#i dont know what bucky was thinking in that moment...& it doesnt matter...what matters is that every time i remember it i smile...

[purple--queen]

Bucky taking off his jacket before getting into another round with Sentry will never not be funny. Like Honey what are you doing? It didn't worked with the jacket, it won't work without the jacket. Or maybe Bucky was hoping that Bob might be a little bit bi so he would be distracted by his arms...

[toldthatdevil]

Heyy! I saw that ur request are open and just wanted to make one <3 so

I broke contact off with my mother today and she told me that she dont want me as her daughter and that im stupid and stuff so maybe

Cg winterwidow x little reader where she broke contact off with her mom and just need comfort ❤️

(I used she her pronous if ur not comfy with writing for a female reader than gn pleasee❤️❤️)

I hope you have a nice day 💕😻

Safe With Them | CG!Winterwidow x Little!Reader

pairings: cg!Winterwidow x Little!Reader

summary: Natasha and Bucky are there for you after breaking contact off with your mother

warnings: Age regression/CG themes (SFW), emotional hurt/comfort, mentions of parental neglect and hurtful words (not detailed, but implied), soft reassurance, lots of cuddles and safety.

a/n: First of all, I just want to send you the biggest hug. I'm so sorry for what you are going through, you deserve so much better and I hope this little fic brings you some comfort 💖

***

You haven’t spoken a word since it happened. Not since you finally made the decision to cut contact with her. You knew it had been a long time coming but the decision to do it, to actually do it, was the hardest thing you ever had to do. But she said one too many awful, painful things to you and now they kept repeating in your mind, no matter how hard you tried to block them out.

She made you feel so small, like a tiny, fragile thing in a world that was suddenly too big and too loud for you to function in. So you did the only thing you could think of, with there being nowhere else you could go. You crawled into Bucky and Natasha’s bed, curled up into a ball and clutched your favourite stuffie close to your chest.

That’s where Natasha found you.

Nothing was said when she saw you, not at first. She just sat silently beside you, gently running her fingers through your hair, her other hand resting lightly on your back. “You don’t have to talk, sweetheart,” she murmured. “I’m gonna to be right here.”

It didn’t take long for Bucky to appear in the room, the expression on his face softening as he took in the scene of you and Natasha before him on the bed. Without hesitating he climbed into bed behind you, wrapping his arms around you protectively. “I gotcha, kiddo,” he whispered, “You’re safe here.”

You let out a shaky breath, squeezing your stuffie tighter to you. “She…she said she doesn’t want me,” you finally mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. “That I’m stupid and…” Your throat tightened. “And that she doesn’t love me.”

You felt Natasha’s fingers still for a moment before she shifted, gently tilting your chin up so you’d look at her. “Hey. Listen to me, sweetheart.” Her voice was firm but full of warmth. “That is not true. Not even a little bit.”

Bucky pressed a soft kiss to the back of your head. “People say things sometimes that are more about them than about you,” he said quietly. “And I know it hurts, but just because she said it doesnt make it true.”

Natasha nodded in agreement. “You are so loved. By us. By the people who truly care about you. Nothing she says can change that.”

Tears welled in your eyes at her words, “but it still hurts.”

“I know, baby,” Bucky murmured. “And we’re gonna hold you through it. For as long as you need.”

Natasha lay down beside you, pulling the blankets up around all three of you as Bucky tightened his arms around your waist. Their warmth, their steady breathing, the softest way Natasha traced patterns on your arm - it was everything you needed.

You were safe. You were Loved. You were Home.

[notthestarwar]

For your WIP folder…. Omg it’s so hard to choose. Wonder Soldier AU with Kix?

thank you so much for the ask!!!

omg. this is the one im currently rotating in my brain. im SO VERY obsessed with it.

(im going to ramble so badly here lol pls dont feel you have to read it all but im VERY excited by this au)

ok so. ive been rereading the winter soldier comics. starting from the first reveal of him in captain america onwards. i feel like everyone knows about the 'who the hell is bucky scene' which is a real heartstopper but omg. there are so many moments that didnt make it in to the films. theres just so much feeling there and i see a huge paralell between a lot of stuff bucky goes through and the clones origin.

i'd seen winter soldier au's with various clones before, but there was always something missing for me. on my reread of the comics i realised what it was. the being out of time. finding yourself in the future unexpectedly. having to adapt. getting used to being alone. and then realising you arent. realising that someone you failed to save is here. is still maybe capable of being saved. is such a huge part for me. thats the driver of so much emotion.

and i realised that there IS a part of star wars that makes me feel kinda similar. Kix's story. Kix finds himself waking up in a galaxy that has moved on. theres no room for him anymore. he was once a part of something, but now he isnt. he's never been alone before, but now he is, without question. he is the last of his kind. and after he finds out what happened, his identity as a medic is really threatened. his job was to heal his brothers, to save them. but when it mattered, he couldnt.

so then i started thinking. what would it be like for kix, facing this reckoning, having faced it for a while. finding himself a place in this new world, beginning to fight the first order. beginning to move on from something thats really quite impossible to ever truly move on from. what would it be like for him to face what steve rogers does in those comics?

for anyone that doesnt know, steve and buckys stories in the comics are slightly different. they are brought together because captain america needs a sidekick. they dont know each other before. and bucky is pretty much a kid at the time. he's 16. steve becomes like his older brother as they fight in ww2 with a superhero group called the invaders (pretty much like the avengers) against nazi superheroes and the like, unitil, just at the end of the war, they get captured. steve watches bucky being tortured, he cant stop it, and then when they escape, bucky sacrifices himself. the last thing steve sees before he gets frozen is bucky, just out of steves reach, unable to be saved after sacrificing himself for their cause. steve is awake in the ice in the comics. he has all those years to dwell on it, and when he gets out, the world has moved on and its far far too late to save anyone he knew.

buckys backstory has some real similarities with the clones. he grows up on a military camp, his dad dies when he's like 12 and he ends up staying as a kind of camp mascot. he grows up in the army. violence is every day for him. its all he knows. and when he gets recruited as captain americas sidekick. its all about the image. he is a propaganda tool. there to look like a kid so that other kids want to join up, but trained to be a killer. he is there to do the dirty work that captain america cant be seen doing. he's an assasin from the start. deadly efficient.

buckys return in the comics is delicious. it comes out of nowhere, to the reader and to steve rogers. he has been living in this new world and has accepted that noone will ever really understand him. anyone that survived ww2 looks at it with rose tinted glasses, but in a lot of ways to steve, he's still there. and then comes the winter soldier, a cold war relic, woken up to meet someone elses aims. in a lot of ways, it echos how steve has been working for america, putting out fire after fire, since he got out of the ice. the people around steve put the pieces together before he does and when they try and break it to him, he refuses to hear it. he wont look at their evidence. he simply cant. to know that not only could he not save this younger brother figure, but that while he was frozen, powerless, bucky was taken by the enemy and used in the worst kind of way. made to do things he never would have done (a big part of this is that bucky never would have worked against america. his patriotism was a huge part of his character thanks to his upbringing, which his handlers knew and found pretty funny. they used him to fight america because it was ironic). like omg. the paralells there! with the clones being raised to serve the republic, being raised to know nothing but loyalty because alll they knew was the military. and then having chips in their heads force them to do the last thing they ever would have done? again and again?

steve refuses to believe that its bucky. but we begin to see that he knows. he's just in denial. he fights the winter soldier and we have the 'who the hell is bucky moment' and then, his denial is shattered in the worst possible way. a dossier is delivered to him holding records from the winter soliders handlers from the start. he has to see the cold and impersonal documentation of the ppl that ripped his brother, his best friend, from death (from peace) so that he could be used against his country. he'd forgotten everything about who he was, all he had was the muscle memory of this fight. he could still fight. he was still a killer. these files document a kind of sick amusement from his handlers at his situation. his drs talk about him like he's an object for testing. (there are so many paralels here with the kamineese, palpatine, jango and how they treat the clones). worse than this. the files show that even without his memory, bucky fought them. during a mission in america he dropped off the radar, confused and lost, but trying to find something of himself. at this point they start wiping his memory after each mission and keeping him in stasis. he is no more than a tool. the whole thing is heart wretching. i know the movie version touched a lot of ppls hearts but. oh my god. it doesnt even touch the surface.

that feeling. those vibes. are the backbone of this au.

kix is beginning to move on. and then, the first order pull out the winter soldier. kix fights him and he's caught. because this stranger, decades after the last clone died, fights just like a clone. and against his will kix is just. pulled in. it feels like one last link to his brothers. he needs to know who trained this assasin. he needs to know more. this guy is like a ghost. the more he finds out the further he feels from any answers. what he finds. well none of it fits together. this guy has been doing this for decades. is he the first winter soldier? was he the one trained by a clone or was that his predecessor? his predecessors predecessor. kixs new war continues, as he investigates. this is simply a side quest. research to resolve his own curiosity.

and then, kix is fighting yet another battle. and in comes this guy. and as they fight, it gets to the point where its just kix and this assasin and the guys mask falls off. and he's a clone. and its an impossibility. its not something kix ever let himself imagine. how can there possibly be a clone here? how can he possibly be so young. he's hardly physically older than kix, in statis all these years, and the guy runs and kix is left. just. shellshocked. he goes back to his research. it doesnt make any sense.

time passes and kix realises who this winter soldier is. he knows him. not only that. he knows exactlly how they are controlling him. its the chips. the chips that kix was unable to save his brothers from. he woke up here and he thought it was too late for anything. his brothers long dead. him, unable to save any of them. he's a medic but he was not enough. yet. here is a chance. a chance at redemption. a brother, just one, that still needs saving. that kix has a chance of saving. and if he does. its someone that will understand. someone who knows what it is to be a clone. someone who knows what it is to wake up in a new galaxy, after years of stasis against your own will. its a chance.

the story deals with kix trying to face this. the whole thing is just like. emotional turmoil. he's given himself a impossible task. he's trying to save someone that does not want saving and very much wants to kill kix. in doing so he's having to face all this trauma and shit he had just accepted living with. and even worse. he gets to see a chipped clone in action. the lack of self preservation, the lack of control. kix gets to see what it would have been like for every one of their brothers. and he has to face that. its a journey thats kinda agonising. lots to face up to. lots to be dealt with. bad situation all round.

im so sorry for how long ive rambled but. oh my god im so utterly obsessed with this. its taken root in side me. the idea. the thought of them. gives me a feeling in my chest thats just. beyond words.

theres another post where i talk about it here also here

im just...screaming. the whole thing makes me want to scream and bite and never stop

ive yet to actually write anything that i can share loool cause ive just been chewing over the idea HOWEVER rest assured once i have something i'll be sharing it on here lol cause i need to yell about this au as much as possible

[ohbuckie]

ur vlogging doing ur makeup and b!bucky not noticing the camera will come up and give you the messiest kiss and then u pull away u will be like 'im vlogging, do you want me to keep that in or not?' bc sometimes he doesnt want things like that in ur vlog and he will be like 'up to you, i love you :)' and then sit behind you the rest of the time ur doing ur makeup

you keep turning around to be like ‘should i do eyeshadow?’ and ‘gold or silver highlight?’ and ‘how big should my eyeliner wing be’ and he really thinks about it bc he always cares so much about what you’re saying ❤️❤️

also whenever he does stuff like that, if he does notice the camera first, he’ll cover it with his hand or turn it around because he wants a kiss or to tell you how beautiful you look but knows that no matter how much of your relationship u document u just dont have to share Everything and he really values those private moments between the two of you. he loves to have you to himself

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Fall Back to the Jet

Summary- Bucky x Y/N (Steve, Natasha, and Sam features) Cap tells you to fall back to the Quinnjet, but you decide on another option. Lucky Buckys close by. Warning- Violence, swearing. Written for @hopingforbarnes​ 250 Writing Challenge. Congrats!!!! Prompt is in bold italiacs. 

Word Count- 1.9k

It was all going smooth till Steve spoke directly to you in his com “Y/N, we have it from here, fall back to the quinnjet” 

You were still the rookie although its been a year, and Steve was the Captain, No one defies the captain, except for you. You eyed the open doorway the hydra agent just went into, taking a deep breath as your resolve settled, you werent going to sit on the quinjet any longer while the rest cleaned up. Ducking into the dark doorway, you stalked down the stairs while hearing your name being yelled at in the com “Y/N, I TOLD YOU TO FALL BACK” Sorry Cap, not this time. 

There are times in your life you maybe regret a decision, this was one of them. You thought the room was clear, sweeping your sights back and forth from the other end of a rifle, when there was a clip to the back of your head, knocking you forward and stupidly dropping your gun. “You Mother Fucker!” you yelp, and turn to face your opponent, twisting your head slightly to knock out the kink he put in your neck. He was well over twice your size, his meaty hands flexing to get around that slim column of your neck, you could see it in his eyes when he lunged at you, side stepping around him with a kick. It was like bouncing your foot off cement and didnt phase him much, smirking at you as he came at you again. “SHIT!” you state as you start blocking and trying to attack back. 

“Bucky you got her?” Steve hissed as they barged into a lab and Steve threw up the shield, blocking the barrage of bullets aimed at the two men. 

“Yea I got her” Bucky ducking behind the shield and once in a while lifting behind from it and aiming his own specially trained on targets rounds, he twisted away and went back out the way he came, using his vibranium arm to slam open doors to see them empty. “Come on Y/N, where the hell are you?” He snarled, until he heard you cussing out someone and the shallow sound of flesh getting pounded on. He hoped that it would be you doing the pounding, but when he opened the door, that certainly wasnt the case. 

Bucky came into you looking twisted around the mans arm, and him slamming you down into the floor, doing your best to keep your head from being bashed in, attempting a kick into his face, his throat, just about anywhere to get him to release his hold. Blood ran down the side of your face from your scalp and your words were flying just as much as anytime youve ever been pissed off, regardless of the situation. “If you dont let me the fuck go you dick wilted asswipe, Im gonna rip your balls off and stuff them down your throat.” If Bucky wasnt scared as hell for you at the moment, he would have rolled his eyes at you, once he realized the way you were being flung back and forth wasnt gonna allow him to take a shot, he shouldered the weapon.Close attack it would be 

Without another pause, Bucky strode forward, his strides wide and his metal arm slammed into the hyrdra agents side of the head, jarring his hand to open wrapped around your neck and you fell to the floor from a considerable height,snapping the back of your skull against the cement with a sharp cry. Rolling away from the two men clashing like titans above you. Bucky was shorter in stature then the hydra agent was, but much more quick on his feet, as well as being a super soldier, it wasnt exactly a fair hand on hand fight. Within minutes the agent was merely blocking the bone rattling blows Bucky was issuing, you were crawling across the floor to where you dropped your weapon, sitting back and putting it to your shoulder, waiting to get a clear shot.

Buckys silver hand wrapped around the back of the mans neck, the plates clinking as he tightened pressure and swung him around right in the aim of your shot, you lining hydra right up in your cross hairs, and pulling the trigger. Barnes turned his face away to keep from getting splattered from brain matter and blood. Loosening his hold, the hydras body, minus the top of his skull, collapsed with a dull thud. You lower the rifle and wince, placing your hand against your head. “Bucky... he got me pretty good.” Your vision going in and out at the moment. 

“Jesus Christ Doll” He hisses as he sidesteps around the body and goes to you, his hands cupping your face to look in your eyes. “Can you focus on me?” You blink a few times and wide eyed stare right at him best you can. 

“Hows that?” You question, grinning stupidly since your just glad Bucky got there in time. He frowned a bit and sighed, wrapping you in his arm to get you to stand. 

“Steve, I got her, Im taking her back to the Jet.” He spoke, not to you though and you didnt bother trying to get an answer. With his assistance, you two hobbled, less with sleuth, but with plenty of pauses for Bucky to check to make sure the coast was clear, the two of you headed outside. Sam was already in the jet, waiting on the two of you. 

“Steve and Nat are finishing up downloading the computer files, then they will join us. Come on Kid, I got a spot waiting for you.” 

“She had her head hit pretty badly” Bucky stated as you two followed Sam inside, going to sit you down, a wave of nausea threatened to upchuck whatever breakfast was, which what was that again? Oh yea, bowl of Wheaties, you remarking to Steve and Bucky this morning across the table. 

“Breakfast of Champs!” You werent exactly feeling like a champ right now. 

Sam looked you over to, prying one eyelid open, then the other. “I think shes going to be okay, but once we reach the compound we will be able to take a closer look.” Bucky settled in beside you and you pried them open once more. 

“Thanks for coming for me.” 

It was this moment Steve and Natasha returned, Steve snapping past you without acknowledging you at the moment. “Get us home Sam” his voice clipped, and Natasha plopped down next to you, her eyes brimming with worry. “Hey, we win some, we loose some right? You also got a hard head, I know.” She teased, having sparred and tumbled with you plenty of times. Steve stayed up at the front with Sam for the moment, but once he was sure you were okay, back home, you were most likely gonna get one of the famous Cap speeches youve seen him dish out to other agents. For now you were content to lay your head on Buckys shoulder, his hand resting against his knee, palm up. Without hesitating, you weave your fingers with his and he gives them a gentle squeeze. It might amaze others just how gentle he could be with that vibranium limb of his. Not you though. 

When the jet lands, you walk off, much more in control then before, but Bucky still hovers nearby and follows you into the medic bay. Quickly your head is checked over, a flashlight shining in your eyes, follow the finger, clean up the scrapes and blood. “Your gonna be dizzy for a few days, so nothing strenuous.” 

In this moment, you were okay with that. 

Steve came in, his demeanor still snapping in anger, but a touch calmer then before. He glanced at the medic and asked “Please, give us a few moments Ma’am, then you can have your patient back.” Bucky moved to take over bandaging the rest of you up as the medic left the room to the three of you. 

He looked at you, hands moving to rest against his hips as he seemed to asses you. “I heard your okay, Y/N. Good, you gave your team quite a scare.” You did have the audacity to look a bit sheepish, but felt the need to defend your actions. “I know, I honestly thought I had him.” 

“Thought, not good enough. Your still fairly new to the team...” This caused a look from you while Bucky patched up the back of your head as best he could. “So I think a bit more team building practices are in order Y/N. Until then, field work is off the table.” 

“What? Steve, come on.” You go to push Bucky back so you can stand up, but hes firm, firmer then you can give him credit for. “It was one mistake, I made a bad call.” 

“Yea, could have gotten you killed. Your always trying to think solo and you just cant. Were a team Y/N. We work together. Ive already made the decision.” 

You kinda gape as Steve turns to leave, fuming. You swear your heads going to blow like in those old bugs bunny cartoons where it goes off like a train whistle. “That son of a bitch just benched me. BENCHED ME!” This time you manage to move to a stand, about to storm off after Steve, but Bucky caught your arm and sat your ass back down. 

“Youve got to calm down before I can fix you up, Okay?” Bucky said calmly as he works diligently. His hands just as gentle as ever, you can barely even tell hes doing anything. You stay as still as you can, fighting back frustrated tears at the Captain benching you like this. Your tired and sore, your reaction just adding to your already bad day. “It was one mistake, one. I just hate always being told to go back to the jet when I could be helping you guys out. It was a bad call on my part, but fuck... I just wanted to be useful. I cant believe how bad this has turned into.” 

Bucky is silent for a moment before he pulls back and studies your face momentarily, and sighs. “Listen, I will talk to Steve, okay? Right now hes just being a dick. He will give everyone else crap about not following orders, but damned if he does.” You wipe at your face to get rid of the frustrated tears build up and arched your brows, hopeful. 

“You would really do that Bucky? If he says yes, I promise I wont mess up again.” 

“Course I would, and let me tell you, Steve wouldnt have listened either.” He went to pick up the tools and waste sitting on the table nearby, and scrubbed his hands clean. “Let him just cool off, hes probably speaking in worry as well Y/N. He doesnt always show it, but your just as much family as the rest of us.” 

Tentatively you go to stand, touching the bandages he finished securing gently and wincing. Without even asking he held out some aspirin that you popped immediately. “How about we go crash on the couch? You still owe me live commentary on that second little people going to drop some jewelry in a fiery hole movie. What was it again?”

This caused you to laugh. “The Twin Towers? Sounds good Bucky” 

@what-is-your-plan-today​ @official-and-unstable-satan​ @p8tn0lish​ 

[buckyskorpion]

i am worried trying to include both time travel and soulmates in one fic is too much but like??? it works in my head, its just whether im capable of writing it so it makes sense. the time travel is like integral to conveying the soulmate meta in the fic as it pertains to bucky’s character development............ and im like why have i done So Much but??? idk i think it could be cool if i can pull it off. 

anyway. have a lil snippet of soulmate info dumping (dont worry this doesnt give anything away) and let me know if this makes sense lmao

**

The peace and quiet can’t last forever when you’re around. After ten minutes of listening to Dylan and Rumlow negotiate, you jolt Bucky back to the car interior by asking, “Do you think you’ll find your soulmate?”

That throws Bucky. He’s never once heard you mention soulmates, not that he’s ever had a conversation like that with you. Most people bring it up at some point or another, though, and you never have. Soulmates are the one constant in everyone’s life - the soulmark, branded on you somewhere from birth, and the matching one somewhere out there in the world on someone else’s skin. Your question makes Bucky’s stomach flip, although he knows you probably meant it as a light-hearted conversation topic to liven up a boring, long stake out.

“What makes you think I haven’t already?” he responds, looking fixedly out the window under the guise of keeping watch.

You snort, a sound which always makes Bucky’s eye twitch in preparation for something stupid coming out of your mouth. True to form, you say, “Oh, please. If you were soulbonded you wouldn’t be so emotionally constipated.”

“Constipated? What does that- no, you know what? Fuck you. No, I haven’t found my soulmate - any chance of that died in the forties.” Bucky white knuckles his thigh to contain himself, even if you are laughing at his outburst because you’re vindictive like that. It’s a sensitive topic for Bucky, is all, but you don’t know that. You do know how to push his buttons, even if you're not sure which one’s you’re pressing, and so Bucky feels dread as you quieten down into a thoughtful silence for a few moments too long.

“Hmmm,” is all you say. Bucky stares at you now, every second that passes scratching against his nerves until he can’t take it anymore. He can see you smirking from where you’re looking out the car window, chin tucked idly into your palm, and he knows you’re doing this on purpose.

“What? Spit it out,” he snaps, hating himself for letting you win yet again.

“I just don’t think thats true,” you say, and before he can ask you to clarify you add, “That you don’t have a chance at a soulmate.”

“I did have a chance,” Bucky says. He tries not to sound too bitter when he adds, “Just not in this century.”

“You’re such a nihilist,” you say with an eye-roll. You shift in your seat to face him, ignoring the open-mouthed offence on his face to throw your hands around and say, “What if you get multiple soulmates? What if the person you were made for has reincarnated and they’re wandering around Hobokin waiting for you?”

“You’ve lost your last brain cell,” Bucky says matter-of-factly. “That’s not how it works. You get a soul mark, someone out there has the same, and either you find them or you don’t. I was born in nineteen seventeen, sweetheart. If I was meant to be soulbonded, then that future died as soon as I fell off the train.”

[yennefer-stark]

Rehab of a soldier

Part two

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

Almost at midnight, I heard a scream wich reached the inside of my bones. Like he experiencing physical pain... I immediately ran to him.

-Hey... It's just me, Yennefer, can I come in?

-Please... --his voice was broken and quiet as he tried to holding back his tears.

-You had a bad dream --I sat down in his bed and swiped away his cold sweat. He didnt know what I wanted, so he sat there, completely frozen; when Buck realized that I mean no harm for him, he closed his eyes and leant into my palm-- Can...can you tell me your dream?

-They wiped me again because I said I knew him, the man on the bridge.

-You were right Bucky, You know who he is. Your childhood best friend. He still remember you even if you doesn't.... Should I go or should I stay?

-Please, stay with me...

-Are you sure?

He doesnt answered, just nodded with his head, so I laid next to him, because there wasnt so much space in his bed. For me, his hug with his metal hand was a surprise. I started to play with his hair. Once again, he froze by a sudden, then again, he relaxed. The next day, I woke up in an empity bed, I walked to the kitchen, where Steve cooked something, the radio quietly played some music.

-Do you met with him?

-Buck? No, I didnt.

-He might went to buy a few thing. I found him yesterday at the museum. He sat at your picture and he said, he remember one single date. July 4, 1918. After 70 years of torture and being frozen constanly, he still remembers.

-My birthday, and trust me, he remember much more than that. What do yo think, why we do this in secret?

-What kind of program he has in his arm? Unknown HYDRA right? When dad was an UNI student he hacked the Pentagon...

-How much time do you need Yennefer?

-Thats on Buck's arm... If something can go wrong, It will go bad sometime for sure. I dont want to be a bad person, but I'd be happy if his robotic arm cant fucntion properly. Do you spoke with Thor?

-No. He doesnt know where Loki went, he still search him.

After a few minute, Bucky come back from shopping, looked at me, than Steve, dead in his track. He arranged his face back to normal, while Steve just wanted to hug him.

-Not now Steve.

-Long time no see Buck.

-Long time ago? I dont remember. ... I think my name is Bucky and we went to italy...? And at another misson I fell from the train...?

At the end, Steve hugged his ex-assassin best friend, who pushed away him.

-Why did you do this?

-We used to greet like this.

-Really? Coz I remember only one date... July 4, 1918. I try to remember things, but after a time, it hurts... And I cant remember much more than that.

He placed the plastig bag in the table, then he went up to his room, he may closed the door with his metal hand, coz Steve an I heard a loud crashing sound.

-If the door is still in It's place it's a luck, that was forceful...

-True, but what I've done?

-You? You did nothing wrong, just your presence is new for him. Yesterday night he was so calm... He leaned into my hand when he figured out that I mean no harm to him.

-He doesnt seemed like a sleepless person, what did you done?

-It's... my secret, but if you forgive me, I have other things to do. Captain.

With a slightly evil grin I turned away from him, and then I went up to Bucky's room. The door wasnt there, just the frame.... The man behind the door's piece was stressed and tense. When he saw me, his eyes radiated pure fear and started to backing away.

-I didnt wanted to destroy the door, I'm sorry. I think something happened with my hand...

-Come on, I can do something with it.

-What can you do with it?

-You'll see, trust me.

I saw the pure terror and complete fear in his eyes as he leaned against the wall. I dont know what HYDRA did with him, but I'm sure they broke him into million pieces and this fact broke me a bit too.

-Before I start this whatever, I will ask you a few question, but I dont know that... You're able to answer the questions...

-What questions?

-How much do you want to be free? How much do you want to know them dead?

-So you say, I will be free and no longer under commands? Finally I can be free from them?

-Yes. I can guarantee that.

-Who are you?

-Lemme say, that you met with my grandparents...

His face was so pale when I said that he met with them. After I implanted the blocker, he experienced a littlebit of pain, coz he didnt used to have opinions and peace, and the program just blocked all of those. I meant the HYDRA-programs...

-You might have nightmares still, but at least, they cannot use you anymore. You're free Buck.

-If I find Rumlov or Pierce... I'll kill them without hesitation.

-Take it easy Buchanan, you have so much time. Will you come with me for breakfast?

-They rarely call me like that.

-I hope that it isnt a problem.

I walked into the kitchen with a smirk on my lips, where the Captain raised one of his eyebrows and asked me with that.

-I think he's super confused, and I'm sure those bastards will come to take him back.

Bucky was still afraid but he walked with more confidence than last night. I know it that he need some time to get used to his new surroundings and that fact he doesnt need to kill anymore. The program blocked all of the HYDRA commands. But still, he looked at Steve like he doesnt know him.

-You said that we used to be very good friends...

-You said to me that you're with me till the end of the line.

-I hope you didnt done anything stupid...

-I can not promise that...

-Steve... Dont lie. Or do I need to tell that you love jumping out from planes without parachute? Or that story when you fall 100 meters when we smoked out the HYDRA from SHIELD?

-You didnt changed a damn thing.

We sat down and ate all our breakfast and after that, Steve washed away the dishes, then went away, coz he had serious things to do, he left heavy silence between me and Bucky. His cerulean-greyish eyes hide the most, almost unbearable pain, his walnut brown hair softly framed his features and it was long as Loki's hair...soulder lenght with a little bit of stubble. Completely different from Loki, but as charming as him... But I dont need to pining on things like that, but still... Months went away sinse we had a really heated argument and at the end, I made him leave. He left me in his trademark scent: cinnamon, mint, pine forest and old book.

-What are you thinking about?

-Nothing. Why you would be interested in my problems?

-Its good to tell your problems to strangers.

-But I know who you are.

-You stil can tell me.

-I dont want it.

-You want me to find out?

-Just ask Steve then, he knows what my problem is... I trained with him in the gym, in fact till this day, buf... I got a friend who doesnt liked this..

-Thats good, coz you can train with Steve.

-No, no. Dont misunderstood the situation. He was the best; in everything, well, almost everything.

-How he looked out?

-Tall, like the door over there, shoulder lenght black hair, and gorgeous green eyes. They were envious of him tho... Our relationship doesnt started so well. It's still hard to talk about but this happened almost a year ago... I mean... Our quarell...

-How...how much time do you two...?

-Almost four years. But if you dont mind, I'm going to my room and do some paperwork.

The truth was that I wanted to cry alone, in my room which was still full of Loki's scent.... That doesnt matter that other metal things were here, the God was way stronger. This was the main cause why I cried, but his abscene... was at such level that I started to cry when I saw green... After a few minutes I heard a quiet knock on my door, so I opened up with cried-out eyes.

-Still doesnt matter what's the problem?

-Yes, coz if I tell you, you will laugh at me...

-Why would I do that?

-Soo... I had a very serious and heated quarell with him, and I made him go away. That was a mistake tho; and I start thinking that he's with another.

-Let it go, but as I see, it's not easy to do. Since there is such a scent in your room?

-Since I met with him. It's his trademark scent.

-My hand...

-Do I need to fix it again? I can paint something if you want. Just say it.

-No. What do YOU need?

-Nothing? I have everything. Family, job, money, adrenalin, stress. --he moved closer, and grabbed my hand with his right. As if he knew what powers I own, he looked right in my eyes.

-I'm traumatised, not blind. Dont think that I wont see what you miss.

He let go of my hand, and left me in my room. I went after him, maybe too fast, coz he frooze in his track, and this was the moment I almost regret my whole life.... I kissed him, thanks to an accident. He may thought that I wanted to do because he hugged me at my waist. When I pulled away, Bucky smiled like Loki used to. Not in the mischievous way, more likely in a happy way.

-I...I didnt wanted ...

-I do. Do you want it again?

-I dont know... I have a boyfriend...

-Who went missing a year ago, let it go, you deserve better.

-But you didnt know.... He's not from earth.

-Then Pierce, Rumlov and Zola too...

@winterbuckytho @i-smell-penniess @itsbuckyb1tch

[geminimoonbeamx]

Oh, Baby: Chapter One

A/N: Okay so I’ve literally had this in my drafts for the last...six months or so? And I figured I’d tweak it and edit and post it since I’ve been so AWOL on this site lately, and so that I can give you guys some new content from me.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Heavy cursing. This chapter is pretty PG, talks of mental illness, unexpected pregnancy and contemplating abortion- but she doesnt go through with it. Smut to come. AND LOTS OF FLUFF TOO, I promise lol

Summary: After a drunken night, Y/N finds herself having to face the biggest decision of her life; is she ready for motherhood? And a better question, is Bucky Barnes, her long time friend and womanizer extraordinaire, ready for fatherhood? They’ll just have to go along for the ride and find out together. A Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Reader Story 

Chapter 1/6: The Baby Woe’s and Oh No’s

You knew it.

You’d known something was off, different, changed.

You sit on your toilet, your world spinning as you attempt to wrap your mind around what was going on. Everything seems sludge like, too slow and too fast and not real.

You’re definitely going into shock, you point out to yourself. The catatonic kind. You’ve been staring at the bright, sunny lemon print of the shower curtain, your eyes focused but not seeing. Your elbows rest on your knees and your hands cover the entirety of your lower face.

At least you’re not crying anymore. 

Nope, your body had moved past that-Maybe, it felt like the tears could start rolling again at anytime.

Oh god, what are you going to do?

Why, why, why?

Why you? You’d been a good person- well a decent person at least… You recycled and tipped more than twenty percent. Didnt vote for Trump and ate your vegetables.

And your life was just seeming to even out. You’d somehow landed your dream job a couple months back- every Wednesday night your voice could be heard on WNEX. You we’re making enough money to finally be comfortable- doing what you loved. Gaining a wide audience and wiggling your way into the industry. Your mind was so career oriented, so focused on your end goal that you’d never even considered something like this.

Throwing a big fat wrench in the gears.

One night, it had only been one stupid, drunken night. Hadn't you racked up enough karma coins to cover your ass for one fucking night?

Are you there god? It’s me, Y/N, and I really fucked up this time.

Wanda comes back into the tiled room a few minutes, her dark features soft and a colorful mug in her hand.

“Are you okay?” She gauges, gently, as she reaches out to you.

You snort and shrug, but accept the steaming cup from her anyway. You look down at the swirling, murky drink.

Wishing for just one moment that you could drown yourself in it.

“Look, babe, I know you’re dealing with some major shock right now- but maybe you should go lay down. We’ll figure it out later-” Wanda’s voice is even and you appreciate her being so calm and sure during all of this but you just can't process the situation enough to accept it.

You can't go lay down.

“Why not?” Wanda questions and you didn't realize you’d said that out loud, you hadn't even felt your mouth form the words.

Your head really is swimming. Disconnected from your body a little bit. You force yourself to take a drink of the tea as she gives you a more pointed look.

“Because I have to- I don't know. I have to figure all this out” You protest. You can't hear your voice, how spiked with anxiousness it is.

“There’s not much to figure out” Wanda supplies, unhelpfully as she leans against the counter, arms folded over her chest and you give her a look that’s half between a glare and a gape.

“Um, what the fuck do you mean? There’s so much to figure out, I don't even know where to start” You give a short, sharp, slightly hysterical laugh gripping the mug hard enough to hurt with one hand while cupping your forehead with the other.

“Okay, first things first. And this is the big one: do you want this?”

Well, that whole ‘I'm done crying’ thought you’d had before was a lie. You feel the tears well up once more and overflow, spill down your already swollen cheeks. Your face is hot. Your tummy is full of rocks.

You’d always hated crying. It never made you feel released or freed or lighter like it did for other people. It made you feel icky and stupid. And afterwards it always felt like you’d gotten punched in the nose.

Yes, you did have a therapist to work out those issues with, thanks.

Your mind doesn't know what to do with that question.

You look at Wanda, searching her face as though she might have the answers but she just shook her head and reached out her hand to rub your shoulder. That’s all she could offer. Her support in whatever path you we’re about to embark on.

And then you look down, at the countertop. That was usually littered with stray tubes of mascara or straightening irons. Bobby pins and half lit candles. All the things that resided in the bathrooms of girls in their mid twenties.

In place of those was now four pregnancy tests. All of which read positive.

The first two had been those double lined ones. Two bold lines- both times. Then you’d ran down to the bodega at the end of the block and gotten two more. And those we’re more straight to the point. They literally read the word pregnant- in a font that you don't think you’d ever forget.

Did you want this? Did you want a baby?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I dont know- I’m not ready. The timing is all wrong” You croak.

“Okay” Wanda coo’s “well there's alternatives then-” you squeeze your eyes closed at that thought “Either way we should make a doctors appointment to make sure you’re actually pregnant. I’ve read so many stories about how unreliable these things are”

She holds up one of the tests and rambles on about all of the online articles she’d come across. How some woman had taken a dozen of ‘em, gotten all positive results and then went in and had an empty uterus.

“For one, ew. I peed on that” You nod your head at the test in her hand and she rolls her eyes.

“Other side of it- and I held your hair when you got food poisoning from that shrimp shack. I’ve come into contact with worse body fluids of yours”

“For two- I’m pregnant. I know it. I’ve known it for weeks. I knew something was wrong and I just tried to...think it away, you know? Out of sight, out of mind? I sound insane” saying the words out loud makes you realize how...ludicrous those thoughts had been. But still. It was the truth.

She just nods though “You don't”

There’s a moment of silence. Stretching, as you stew in your reality.

“I’d be doing it alone” you whisper into the mug as you sip on it “I really dont think he’d want a baby”

“You would never be alone, you know that. You have so many people in your life that would support you with this” Wanda protests, sad that you’d even say that.

“You know what I mean” You push on. Because having a good group of friends and family wouldn't change the fact that you were possibly looking at the possibility of being a single mother.

If you decided to keep it, that is.

“Yeah I do- and I don't know if I agree with that. Bucky's a lot of things, an arrogant asshole at that top of that list, but he’s a good guy and I think he’d want to be involved. He doesn't give off deadbeat dad vibes”

All of that was true. Bucky is a good guy, at the core of him.

He was kind and decent and the two of you had been friends for years upon years. He was charming, magnetic and women loved him- you’d found it amusing, before you we’re the one in his bed after a drunken night a month ago.

He’d left your messages mostly on seen since then. You’d only sent a few, but still that had stung. Him icing you out the moment he’d gotten into your pants pissed you off, not only because it was rude but because it was expected.

You knew how Bucky was with women, it had been such an idiot move to sleep with him.

It made it all the more complicated that you ran in the same social circles- had all the same friends. Sam’s small promotion dinner a couple weeks ago had been extremely awkward for you, to say the least.

He’d earned himself the cold shoulder from you and no matter how many times he’d try to broach a conversation with you, crack a joke in your direction, or single you out in a group conversation you pretended he didn't exist.

“Damn, re-jec-ted” It had been so obvious that Clint had of course pointed it out, which was uncomfortable but expected because Clint had no filter like that.

Bucky had stopped trying after that- and started flirting back with the waitress that had been throwing herself at him throughout the night. You cut out early, claiming tiredness. And upset stomach. Whatever to get you out of there.

To say it was a shitty night was a bit of an understatement and you hadn't spoken one word to him since.

“I haven't talked to him since that night- and now I’m what, supposed to call him up and tell him I’m carrying his child because he doesn't properly know how to operate a condom?

“I don't know, yeah? It doesn't mean you two need to get married, but if you choose to keep this baby, that’s going to be a conversation you’re going to have to have” Wanda is so annoying sometimes. She was such a sharp thinking human- always grounded and level headed. She claimed it was from always having to be the “good twin” growing up.

Of course she was rationalizing this whole thing while you we’re floundering about it like a fish.

“I think I should make a doctors appointment” You just mutter. You’d rather focus your attention there. It was easier, cleaner for you. A goal you could actually accomplish.

And so that’s what you did.

//////

They were able to get you in at the end of the week, which in overpopulated New York City was a godsend. And still, it felt like far too long. Like the reality of it couldn't sink in until you talked to a medical professional so you we’re left in some kind of fucked up long until then.

You tried to keep your anxious mind busy, throwing yourself into work. Talking to people over the static airways of the radio about their lives; about the world and all of its workings was so much easier than talking to anyone about what was going on with you.

The only person who knew was Wanda and you’d canceled all of your other plans during the week, not able to face anyone. Not yet.

Lots of sleepless nights, staring at the ceiling. Thinking until your brain physically hurt.

And then you’d turned to you journal- maybe if you wrote everything down it would make sense. If you could see it all, inked out, you could make a decision.

Did you want this child?

Wanda had suggested making a pro’s and con’s list and while it sounded crazy and unhelpful, and you rolled your eyes at it ‘As though that will help’, you ended up doing it anyways.

You start with Cons, naturally. Always had been too damn negative.

Cons:

-I have no fucking idea how to be a mom

-Bucky???

-My job. My career. Who’s going to watch the baby while I work?

-How in the fuck am I going to financially support a baby.

-No room in the apartment/My room is fucking tiny and where will we put a baby

(Wanda said we can turn half of the living room into a playroom/makeshift nursery. How fucked up though? Not even a real nursery)

-No car? A baby on the subway? No thank you.

-Weird to explain to people even if Bucky wants to co-parent. All our friends??

-PAIN

-Pregnancy looks so painful. Birth looks scary. My poor vagine.

-Life is basically over

-The baby will not have a grandmother from your side...

You could keep going on, but you decide to stop there. You could go on, make the list pages and pages long but you decide against it.

Pros:

-I’ve always wanted to be a mom. Always dreamed of babies and motherhood, baby fever crashes over me in waves.

-Me and Bucky’s baby is going to be cute AF(and that just pure facts)

-I have a great support system- amazing friends and family who I know will help

-Bucky could want to be involved. He probably will...maybe?

-He has a big family, i think. The baby would have lots of family

-I don't want to have an abortion. All about pro-choice, but I just...don't know if I can.

That had made you bite the end of your pen.

Adoption?

Could you give a child that you went through nine months of pregnancy up for adoption? Knowing yourself- probably not. You cant even get rid of the moth hole ridden clothes at the back of your closet. Not comparing a baby to a jean jacket- fuck, see how unequipped you were for this?

-I’d be a good mom(I think)

-I could swing it financially. Maybe get a second job

-At least I have a good insurance plan now

-My life might have more of a purpose?

You hide the lists away in one of your many journals. Stick it in the wicker basket under your night stand- and revisit it too many times in those days between.

You make a lot of other lists in that time, too. 

//////

One of them sits tucked in your purse as you make your way to the eighth floor- Arms folded across your chest and the inside of your bottom lip speared between your teeth as the elevator takes you up.

Wanda stands beside you, of course. Sipping on her iced americano. You’d tried to tell her that she didn't need to come, that you were perfectly okay with going on your own. You’d gotten about two words out before she shut you down-

“I already took the afternoon off, don't be ridiculous”

You both know you wouldn't admit it, stubborn as you we’re, but you’d let out a big sigh of relief. You really didn't want to do this alone.

The waiting room is standard for this building, looks similar to the one that you sit in when you see your GP- save for a sign hanging about the door that labels it the OB-GYN.

Fake plants and those standard waiting room chairs that had that weird diagonal print on them TV’s that we’re playing the local news and tables stacked with months dated magazines. There was no windows though and it made the back of your neck feel hot.

The receptionists is nice. Middle aged with mild with droning, mellow voice. She checks you in fast and efficiently and tells you that you’ve got about a 15 minute wait on your hands.

Annoying, you think even though you give her a big grin and a sweet ‘thank you’. You’d been right on time. Why in all offices of all kinds is there always a fucking wait?

Wanda has plopped down on a chair in the corner and is fingering through an issue of LIFE, her long legs crossed at the knee. you sit next to her. The office air conditioner is blasting, it had been a muggy May in the city, but you feel overheated. You let the chunky cardigan you’d donned slip down one shoulder, exposing your skin to the chilly air.

You should feel the cold but you’re over heated. Nervous as hell. Why doesnt anyone else in this office seem nervous?

You tend to people watch when you get overly anxious like you are now. Tend to take in every little detail of every little thing around you.

There’s a black couple- the woman doesn't look pregnant but they’re holding hands tightly and they keep whispering to each other. He smiles and nudges her shoulder with his. Then there’s a Latina woman who looks just about ready to pop and is reading one of the kids book to a little boy with her eyes. A white lady, with twin carriers rocks them gently as she chats with a woman who looked to be related to her, maybe. Older and graying.

You feel like a creep but you can't stop looking at them all. Staring at each of the people who are at different stages of the same  life-path you found yourself on.

Wanda clicks her tongue as her dark eyes focus on the magazine. Muttering, her accent thick, about how the lenses they used for the shoot on the page was all wrong.

Her photographers eye was snobby and elitist.

“Y/N?” The nurse calls you back, not butchering your name which is nice and look over at your best friend.

“Are you sure you don't want me to come back with you?” Wanda whispers, big gingerbread eyes searching yours and you shake your head quickly.

You had to do this, on your own. What if...what if you ended up having to do this whole thing alone? You had to be grown, had to face this solo. That’s just how you felt, even if it might not be true.

“It’s just another appointment- I can do it on my own. I’ll live” there's a reasoning lilt in your voice that she doesn't quite buy but she nods all the same. Tells you that she’ll be waiting right there for you as you muster up all your courage and train your face into a smile, following the nurse into the back offices, the door mechanically closing behind the two of you.

The OB’s office is...warmer then you’d thought it would be. Her desk has frames of all types and her walls are plastered with colorful posters, making the alabaster of the wallpaper less daunting. There was even a window in here.

You’re perched up on the exam table/ chair thingy, staring out at the tall buildings across the street, at the people moving fast below on the sidewalks. You wonder what all of them are doing? How many of the have kids?...

When there’s a soft knock at the door your attention snaps back to the present.

Doctor Helen Cho is a petite Asian woman. She has glossy dark hair that's tied up in a clip high on the  back of her head, and her voice is friendly and her expression open as introduces herself to you and reaches out to shake your hand.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you, too” You sound so much surer and more confident then you feel. It had always been your party trick- meeting new people and being able to talk to them. Leaving trails of barley there acquaintances in your wake.

“So it says here that you think you’re pregnant, yes?” She gets right to it, and your appreciative for it.

“Yeah, I know I am.  I took four tests and they all came out positive and I...I feel really off” you try to explain it, poorly but she seems to understand.

“When you say off, do you mean like bad feeling off or?” She probes as she sits at her desk, swivels her chair to face you. Her chocolate almond eyes weren't piercing or clinical, just waiting.

“Not really bad? But I’ve just been so tired lately and I’ve had like, zero appetite. And my breasts have been so sensitive that it hurts to put on a bra” as you tell here these things you could slap your head for not assuming you were pregnant before you’d taken the tests.

Dr. Cho hums and nods as she looks over her tablet “Well from the look of these results from those blood and urine tests your nurse went ahead and gave you when you came in, I can tell you that you are definitely about nine weeks pregnant- so those symptoms are right on with where you are”

You inhale and exhale, bigly. It’s real. It’s been real, was a notion, a happening but now...it’s so freaking real.

And there's a real life changing decision to be made-

That you’d already made before you’d even walked into this office but now seemed even clearer. Crystal, in that moment of clarity.

“I want to keep it” Your confident as you say it. Your voice cracks with some kind of emotion you couldn't even begin to explain, but you’re confident. You’re sure.

Dr. Cho grins at you, and stands, congratulating you then, after she’s sure you even want a congratulations. You like her, think you might.

It’s hard to focus on her voice though because all your mind can think of is the next big obstacle, the next big step in all of this.

How were you going to tell Bucky?

Okay guys? I posted? Crazy right? lol give me some feedback! Comment and tell me what you thought of this. I absolutely love interacting with you guys, but I’m sure ya’ll know that. 

Also- the taglist for this story is still OPEN, so if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters just ask!

@peacefulwriter88 @jaamesbbarnes @jalapenobarnes @brieannakeogh @gifsbysimplysonia @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @lostinspace33 @4theluvofall @plumfondler @tatathekissypotato @siren-kitten-his @skishenanigans @geekyweed @spidey-babe-parker @lastfallenstar @rachelle-on-the-run @prettybubblesintheair @dani-si 

[imagining-sio]

Escapism V

Biker!Bucky X reader

Chapter V: James 

Something defintely changed over the next few weeks. I found it odd that Rumlow kept his distance, I hadn’t heard a peep, nor even seen his face. Surprisingly, I had no encounters with any officers even though I had been expliitly told by everyone that they were in his back pocket. 

That and the fact Bucky was now the replacement for thor in the ordering of coffees. Every time he came in he gave a wierd excuse for Thor not being present, of course it was to please Edna, whom took it in good strides. Eventually, she just found it to be amusing to see what outlandish thing he could come up with.  

It was the same case this morning, I walked back from handing a beverage to a small pair of men in suits. They looked like they were travelling, they mostly kept to themselves and didn’t really talk to anyone else but each other. They clearly weren’t from around here. 

Enda looked up at the door when the bell jongled, signalling a new customer walking in. She glanced over at me with a satisfied look. 

My neighbor nervously sauntered into the shop. His white shirt stained with grease, as was his usual attire. His tattoed sleeve on his left arm drew attention from some of the customers, mostly the ones who were ogling him. I couldn’t blame them, I still don’t know how his legs could have fit into the light wash jeans he wore. 

“Hello James; is Thor off sprocketing again?” She said with raised brows, watching his nervous, shifty expression. He stuttered over his words, his arm rubbing the back of his neck; extending his shirt to reveal the left half of his hip, as well as what type of under wear brand he uses. 

I took a deep breathe before walking by him, occaionsally setting dirty dinnerware upon the tray. 

“Good morning Bucky,” I said slyly, making him jump. 

“M-morning Y/n.”

“The usual James?” Enda asked, catching the man’s attention. 

“Hm- Oh! yes, please.” He replied, almost doing a double take. 

“Something on your mind?” I eavesdropped from the back room. Occasionally peeking over my shoulder, watching Barnes self destruct. 

“oH, NO-NO; just jittery from not having coffee yet.”

“Isn’t it after you have coffee that you get the jitters.” Enda prompted to ask, smiling at his wide eyed expression. Enda laughed, which only to make Bucky ore on edge. 

“I’m messing with you James, You know where to sit. We’ll get you order for you.”

“Thanks Edna. And please, don’t call me that.”

“Well apart from your, Mother who else is going to?” She said walked back into the backroom, giving me a smirk. 

“What?” I furrowed my brows, drying my hands off. 

“If you two aren’t together by the end of this week; I’m gonna have to talk to his mother about it.”

I swore I almost dropped the plate I had in hand. There was still a loud clatter, but thankfully nothing broke. 

“Why me? What makes you think I wanna be with him.”

“Oh, please. You two argue like you’ve been married for years. Yesterday, you had a debate for five minutes on wether or not sprocketing was even a thing.”

“Because its not!” I said, my tone defensive. 

“Well, I think you two are good for each other.”

“Where could you get that from.” I threw the towel over the drying rack, untying my red apron from my outfit. I grabbed the large bags that held all of the sandwiches while Enda put the drinks in their carriers. I held the door open with my waist, making sure she was able to walk out first without problem. 

“Here you go James,” She handed him the drinks. 

“Thanks, Ed.” He pecked her on the cheek, making the elderly woman blush. 

“Ready to go?” he turned toward me, a small smile gracing his lips.  I nodded my head, his smile grew contagious and spread to my lips as well. He strode ahead of me, making sure to open the door, even though his hands were full. 

“I could’ve gotten that you know,” I told him. 

“I know.” He smirked, his charm bouncing back full force. I could only roll my eyes fondly. 

“So, anything new happening?” I asked as we walked down the street toward the crosswalk. 

“Not much, we’re still havig trouble landing a place for the cookout next week. We usually have it at the park, but the farmer’s market threw a wrench in our plans.” 

“Oh?”

“No one really wants a buch of gearheads at a farmers market with their exhaust pipes.” He shrugged, pretending it didn’t bug him. I knew better. Bucky, as well as the rest of the shop had been trying to get me to go, almost pestering me everyday.

“Is there an alternative?”

“Not at the moment no. Wanda doesnt wwanna use the bar, we kinda trashed it last year. We helped clean up, but she doesnt wanna risk having to buy another jukebox.”

“I see. Was it you or Sam who broke it?” I nudged mockingly. He chuckled, his shoulders jutting forward as he laughed. 

“Nah, that was all Tony, when he’s drunk he likes to trick things out. He may be a genius but he can make some stupid desicions when wasted.”

A though popped into my head at that moment. I watched as the crosswalk turned green, signalling our right of way. Not that it mattered, there weren’t enough cars to make a difference. 

“You could have it at my place.” I blurt out. As soon as the words left my lips, I winced, not wanting to see nor gage his reaction. 

“Really?” he lit up. 

“I mean, yeah. I have private access to the lake. My backyard should be big enough. Just as long as they park on your side of the street. I just finished gardening.” I shrugged, trying not to make it out to be a big deal. 

“Are you serious? This isn’t a joke?” 

“Why would I be joking Barnes?” I shook my head exasperated. 

“You would do that?” we walked into the shop’s large garage entrance. Steve immeadiately went to grab the coffe, quickly skirting out of peripheral. Sam walked up on my flank, eyeing my neighbor as he slid the bags out of my hands. 

“I-I mean yeah. It’s neighborly.” I said lamely, my shoulders hunching up to my neck. He blinked at me, his mouth slightly agape. I took a sheepish step back, swallowing the butterflies jumping around my stomach.

“Well, lemme know when you guys wanna have the cookout. I can-“ I started, but I felt a jolt forward. Bucky grabbed hold of my arms and envoloped me in a tight hug. His arms encased my width easily. I could only inhale the scent of his greasy shirt, sensing the mixture of motor oil and his oclonge he used. I slowly started to reurn the favor. 

“You don’t know how much this means to me.” He pulled back, far enough that I was still in his grip.

“It’s no problem, really.” I deflected, trying to stop the bright red tint flaring upon my cheeks. For once I was actually excited to have friends over. I was excited to have friends. 

Little did I know; thats where it all went haywire. 

It took me a whole week to make sure my home was spotless. I had mostlikely cleaned the house three times out of sheer panic. The bathroom was cleaned almost everytime I used it. I stocked my fridge full of beverages both alcoholic and non. 

I started the day as usual. I showered and got dressed in a casual crop top and destroyed jeans. I roamed around the house barefoot, since I had no need ot be going anywhere. 

I tried my hand at baking around lunch, and was somewhat sucessful. I made three batches of biscuits, which was plently for the whole group. However when it came to sweets, I failed in that department. 

As I wafted the smoke detector with my rag, I heard a knock on the door. No one was supposed to be here for at least two more hours. Then again, no one ever showed up on time. 

“Just a second!” I shouted, finally getting the smoke detector to stop blaring, I strode toward the door. 

“You guys are a little early dont you think-“ My words fell out of my mouth. 

“Actually I think I’m right on time.” Yon Rogg turned around, a smug smile plastered on his face. He peeked over my shoulder; analyzing my home. 

“Love what you’ve done with the place.”

“What are you doing here?” I tried to remain emotionless as possible, but my white knuckle grip on the door proved otherwise. 

“I wanted to see how you were doing. Can’t I see my favorite person in the world?” He strode into my home, tainting it with every step he took. I pursed my lips, taking a deep breath. I looked out across the street, seeing my neighbor walking out the door. My adrenaline spiked as soon as I saw his bright blue eyes. He waved from across the street, calling my name. I shook my head, slamming the door; hoping he understood. 

“You’re neighbor seemed pleasant.” Rogg spoke up from the kitchen, helping himself to the fresh biscuits. 

“What do you want.” I stated, venom spilling out of my voice. 

“I wanted to say Hello, Y/N,” he took a bite of the baked delicacy, eyeing me up and down. 

“No you don’t.” 

“Oh, you know me so well. I love how clean the place is. Looks like I may have rubbed off on you.” He stood before me. His stature towered over mine, the alarm bells in my head were running at full volume. 

“I told you we were done.” I took a step back, only for him to follow with me. 

“Oh, I could never be done with you, honey.” He set the biscuit down on the counter. His tone turned dark, I looked past him to fnd my purse, whee my pepper spray was kept. 

“Did you really think you could hide from me? You give yourself too much credit.” He backed me up against the wall. His hand slammed flat next to my head, makign me jump. 

“You could never get rid of me, sweetheart. You know how the game is.” I flinched as his hand came up to my face, caressing my cheek. 

A knock came at my door, jutting the conversation to a halt. I ducked out from under Yon, walking toward the wooden gate to my threshold. Upon opening it, I was relieved to find my neighbor on the other side, with a stack of small boxes in hand. 

“Hey, Y/n!” He smiled, though I could see the concern in his eyes; “I know I’m early but I thought I coud help set up for tonight.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, making sure that the man in my home would never see my neighbors face. Not if I had anything to say about it. 

Bucky had other ideas. 

“I tried going through you gate but it was locked.” He stepped inside, giving the man in the kitchen a hard glare. 

“I didn’t know you had company.” He said plainly, though I could easily spot the suspicion in his tone. 

“Yon was just passing through town. Thought he would say ‘hi’. Don’t worry, he’s not staying.” I spoke before the man could get a word in edgewise. 

“Yes, I was just leaving actually. I have many clinets to get back to as you well know. Kree Inc, won’t take care of itself.”

���Kree Inc?” Bucky set the boxes down on the breakfast table near the window. 

“You never heard of it?” Yon asked incredulously, adjusting the linen suit he wore 

“No, can’t say I have. We don’t here much in a small town like this.” Bucky stood straight, sizing the man up; “How do you know Y/n.” He jutted his chin as Yon walked up to him, standing toe to toe with the man. Bucky still had an inch over him, as well as a few pounds of muscle. 

“Y/n is- was, my fiance.” Yon straightened his tie dismissively. Bucky’s eyes widened at the statement, his fists balling up. He looked at me, the disbelief still evident. I could only cast my gaze on the floor, nodding my head. 

“Well then, aren’t you two the happy couple.” Bucky smirked as he watched Yon’s expression harden. I fiddled with my watch upon my wrist. 

“Bucky,” I chided him. 

“Well, been nice meting you John,” Bucky stuck his left hand out. Yon raised a brow, but met the man’s hand with his own. The two shook hands, but something was different. They stared each other down like they were looking down the barrel of a gun. For Bucky’s case he might as well have been. Yon however, he grmaced near the end of the shake, finally relenting his hand. 

“Quite a grip you got.” Yon rubbed his hand, walking past the man and toward the door. 

“Y/n, my dear, always a pleasure.” Yon pecked the side of my cheek, it took everything in my power not to gag as I reached for the front door.

“Just go,” I muttered under my breath, the desperation in my voice made him smile. It was sickeneing. 

“Nice to meet you, Billy.” Yon said over his shoulder as he passed through the threshold. I slammed the door before Bucky could retort. That didn’t stop him from trying. 

“It’s Bucky!” He shouted. I ran up to him, covering his mouth with my hand. He gave me a quizzical look at my actions. Once I heard the start of his engines I remained silent. I waited with bated breath as the engine of his expensive sports car drove off and finally out of earshot. 

“What did you ever see in him?” Bucky said with disdain, his hand encasing mine. I shoved him as hard as I could, causing his back to knock into the counter. He merely laughed at first, before he saw my enraged expression.

“What is the matter with you!” I shouted, wringing my hands through my hair. I began pacing. 

“Wait; what did I do?”

“What didn’t you do James!” I threw my arms up exasperated; “You don’t know him like I do Bucky. He will pick you apart bit by bit. Trust me I know. He isn’t a CFO for nothing.”

“So, I could take him.” He crossed his arms childishly. 

“This isn’t something you can punch your way out of, James.” I pointed at him. He eyed me from where I stood, a glint in his bright blue irises. 

“Since when did you call me James,” He snorted. I rolled my eyes. 

“Since you decided to barge in and almost start a fist fight with my ex.” 

“So what, he probably deserved it.”

“You don’t get to make that choice.” I retorted.

“Oh, and you do?” 

“YES!” I shouted, my hands resting at my hips. I watched as Bucky’s expression changed, his eyebrows furrowing. He gyrated his hips, making his upper body follow with him; pushing himself off the side of the island’s ledge. He uncrossed his arms as he approached, still not uttering a sound. I stood straight as his left hand reached out, liftng the hem of my crop top a little highter; thus exposnig the raised line of tissue on my side. 

“He do this?” He traced the scar with a delicate, feather light touch. The back of his finger caressed the scar, as if it were still fresh and would reopen if he put too much pressure on it. I tried to cool the warmth pooling in my stomach, only staring at his face, which was locked on the eight inch long scar. 

“Yeah, he did.” I whispered beneath my exhale. His nostrils flared, he bit his bottom lip hard as he raised his head. He took a deep breath, his chest heaving a few times. He backed up a few steps, his arm rubbing the back of his neck. His other fist balled up again, I could hear his knuckles crack from the pressure. 

“Bucky-“ My stomach dropped. 

“I’ll be back.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna kill him.” I heard him mutter under his breath. He marched toward the door. Now the alarm bells were sounding in my head. 

“What! Bucky wait!” I scrambled to stop him. I tried to grab his arm, only for him to evade my grasp easily. He was getting closer to the door. I had no choice. 

I jumped on his back, causing him to stagger backward from the weight. 

“What are you doing!” He shouted, one of his hands latching on to the underside of my thigh. He was quickly loosing balance, and we toppled to the rug covered floor, in a heap. 

“Do not go after him!” I wrestled with him as he tried to get back up. I latched on to his wrists, someway, somehow wrangling myself to get on top of him. I threw my weight into my arms, planting his wrists above his head on the floor. I straddled his waist, effectively planting his center of gravity to the ground. 

“Bucky, listen to me! Do not, under any circustances; go after him!” I heaved, finding the ordeal heavily exhausting. He blinked at me with his ocean blue eyes, his expression blank and half lidded. 

“I don’t care if you don’t like him. And for once in your life, just listen to me.” I lessened my grip tentitavely, gaging his reaction to see if he would try anything. 

“Okay.” He spoke softly, his word breathing life back into my lungs. My shoudlers sagged in relief, hanging my head as a sigh escaped my lips. I finally released my hold on him, but I was far too lazy to actually get up. 

I felt his hands against my hips. the sensation made my head snap back up to him. He was giving me a mischevious smirk. It was only then I realized the predicament I had gotten myself in. 

“You know,” he said, a smile growing on his face; “If you wanted me under you, you could’ve just asked.”

“You’re disgusting,” I couldn’t help but laugh, trying to quell the warm feeling in my stomach. His laughter didn’t make it any better. I stood to my feet, not bothering to help him up. I rumaged through the boxes on th eisland counter, finding a load of multicolored market lights. 

“What do I need these for? It’s not christmas.” I looked back at him, finding that he was watching me from the floor. He rolled his eyes, finally opting to get to his feet. 

“No, they’re for decoration; honey.” He placed the lights back in the box. Stacking them one atop another, he nodded his head int he direction of my backyard. 

“C’mon I’ll need your help.”

“Oh by all means then,” I replied condescendingly; “Lead the way fearless one.”

He laughed in respone, making me smile. 

After an hour, we had the all three boxes strung up all over the place. Some were stung along the edges of the dock, lighting it up like an airport runway. Others were around trees, and connecting between them. By the time we were turning them on, the sun was beginning to set beneath the mountain, casting the shadow needed to make the lights glisten. We exchanged glances, both satisyfied with our handiwork. 

Which was perfect timing, because that when weveryone was starting to show up. Thor brought his pickup, housing most of the food and chairs. Sam also brought his beat up vehicle, its model and make foreign to me. 

“Let’s get this party started!” he walked through the gate to my backyard, holding a pair of tongs and a bag of charcoal. 

“We gotta get the grill frist, dumbass.” Bucky rolled his eyes, elbowing the man. Wilson gave a defeated Aw in reponse before following the brunette. 

“Wow, I love what you’ve done with the place.” Wanda walked into view. I noticed she had a towel in hand. and her top was a halter bikini top. 

“You’ve been here before?” I asked. 

“My brother used to live here. He was close with everyone; we usually had the cookouts here anyways.” She smiled fodnly, as if recalling the memories in her head. 

A loud shout from Clint drew our attention, watching as he sprinted toward the dock. His flip flop caught on on e of the boards, causing him to stumble straight into the water. The brunette and I laughed. 

“Somethings don’t change though.” she laughed. Thor was setting up the snacks on the picnic table as if he’d done it a million times. Steve was carrying all the cups and plates, holding the gate open for Bucky and Sam, whom were arguing with each other as they brought the grill in. I watched as they set the large round grill down, Bucky, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. His gaze met mine, and he returned the smile I had on my lips. 

“Alright lets get this thing started!”Sam perked, pouring the charcoal on the grill. 

Everything hit me then and there. This rag tag group of people who welcomed me into there group with open arms. They were more than friends. They were a family. The fact they welcomed me into their group could only mean I was soon to be in their family as well. It felt safe, secure, stable. Like nothing I had experienced in a while. The cookout went with out a hitch. Music was palying, people were happy. I was content. Even with what had transpired earlier that day; I would usually start my way into packing up and heading to the next nowhere small town as fast as I could. For some reason, I didn’t want to leave this place. I wanted to build a life here. It was a profound feeling, but I knew I didn’t want to leave. I liked that feeling. I had become less tense over my stay here, I couldn’t let Yon try to ruin by simply knowing where I was. He was right, I could never hide from him. But I could be happy. Happy was something I hadn’t felt in a long long time. 

As everyone was starting to pack up and head out for the night, others were cleaning up, or hitching rides from the people who brought vehicles. It was hilarious to see a drunken Sam try and pawn a ride off of Thor, who was indifferent to the whole situation. 

Bucky however, hadn’t spoken to me the whole night. Yes, he had kept his distance, but I wasn’t so oblvious to feel his eyes on me as held conversation with the others. 

Bucky and Thor were draggin the grill back over to his place. Steve was escorting evryone back to their designated drivers. I was getting rid of the trash when Natasha walked over to help me. 

“You two need to get a room.” SHe said abruptly, makng me trip over my feet. 

“What?” I shot up. 

“You and Bucky. You two need to get a room. I am not about to lose forty bucks to Sam for another week.”

“Is there a bet I don’t know about.”

“Yeah a whole pool. We all took bets on how long it would take you two to get together. So far Sam is winning.”

“How come?” 

“Because he doesn’t think t’s gonna happen.”

“What if it doesn’t?” we tossed the used tablecoth in the trash. 

“Then Sam gets to play whatever he wants on the radio for a month, and he gets the cash money.”

“There’s cash!” my eybrows shot up. 

“Oh, yeah. Its split half and half in the shop. Everyone is in on it.” 

“You guys are weird.” I said, dusting my hands off on my pant legs. The gate creaed open, Steve and the afformentioned neighbor were back.

“You ready Nat? Clint’s been calling you.”

“NAT!” as if on cue, we could hear the man from the street. Natasha shook her head, small smile gracing her lips as she walked out of the backyard. 

“Night Y/n,” Steve gave me a burly hug and walked out behind her; leaving me alone with my extremly good looking neighbor. 

“Need any help?” Barnes asked, nervouse wringing his hands. 

“Nah, just gotta clean up the bottles in the kitchen. You’re welcome to join though,” I said, opening the glass door leading to my home. By the time I turned around, he was already at my side, his eyes lit up like stars. 

“I would love to.” He smiled brightly, his cheeks bringht pink, probably from all the alcohol we were drinking. I rolled my eyes, a smile forming on my face as I walked into my home. 

“Make yourself at home.” I waved to the couch, which was directly opposite of the island where the bottles had been placed. I grabbed a large trash bag and began placing the glass bottles in. As the black plastic bag grew heavier and more cumbresome, I stuggled to keep it open as I gathered more bottles. 

“Here,” Bucky said softly appearing behind me. His hand grazed over mine, reaching for the bottles. I looked up at him, finding a warm smile on his lips. I hled the bag open as he placed the remaining bottles in, finally tying the bag in tight knot. 

“Thanks.” I spoke softly, matching his tone. A bright flush of pink flaring on my cheeks, one that wasn’t from the alcohol. I set the bag down next to the trash can, a reminder for tomorrow. 

“I’ll take it,” Bucky reached out, his tattooed arm reached past my face. I raised the bag, standing sideways to legnthen my outstretched arm. 

“No,” I told him. 

“No?” 

“You heard me,” I gave him a satisfied smirk. I set the bag down with a thud next to my aluminum trash can. I turned around to find him lungin at me. I barely had time to dodge out of the way as he tossed me over his shoulder. 

“Bucky! Put me down!” I was laughing, much to my own chagrin insdie. He twirled around, making the two of us spin. 

“James!” I shireked, casuing him to stop. He was laughing at my predicament, walking toward my living room. 

“James, put me down this instant.” I said between my feats of laughter. 

“If you insist.” He dropped me onto the couch as if I weighed nothign. I flopped onto the cushions, bouncing as I finally came to a stop. I was laughing so hard it hurt. Bucky flopped on top of me, becoming dead weight. I struggled to breathe. I barely could get my legs out from under him, finally pyring them out on either dise of his waist.

“Get off you oaf!” I laughed, trying to push him up and away from my body. Both of us were laughing, mostly from the alcohol. His hands grazed the curve of my waist, his fingers ice cold; I jumped at the sensation. His head snapped up, a wry grin on his face. 

“You’re ticklish.” He said plainly. I shook my head violently. His grin only widened, his hands plastering themselves on my back. The ice cold palms made me arch my back, shireking at the subzero temperature. 

“James!” I desperately tried to pry him off of me, giggles spewing out from between my lips. 

“Say it again.” His voice dropped, his hands splaying out onmy bare skin under my shirt. I could feel his thumb rub back and forth as he did. All of the laughter I had caught in my throat. I looked up at him, his blue eyes gazing directly back at me. 

“What?” my eyes flitted between his eyes and his lips. 

“Say my name again.” he repeated, his tone even. 

“James.” I obliged, my hands grazing over his taught biceps. He dropped his head toward mine, his nose tracing a line up the side of my neck. 

“Again.” His tone dropped agian, making the pool in my stomach flare up. I dropped my head back onto the couch. 

“James.” My voice became more breathy. I felt his lips upon my neck, leaving a wet trail. 

“Again.” he said, barely above a whisper. My fingers threaded through his hair. I felt his lips encase my earlobe, only fueling the fire in my insides. I could feel one of his hands cradling the back of my head, his deft fingers carding through my locks as well. I could barely muster a thought let alone say anything, opting to close my eyes and revell in the moment. 

I only opened them again, albeit half lidded; when he ceased. I looked up to find him flitting between my eyes and my lips, slowly, excruitatingly, inching toward me. 

“James if you don’t-“

I didn’t have time to finish my sentence. His lips beat me to the punch. 

[beckzorz]

PREMONITIONS 2 (2/8)

or, Adventures in Pursuit of a Seven-Year-Old Seer

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Words: 1662 Summary: It’s been over a year since you met Bucky, and you couldn’t be happier. If only you could figure out why your precognitive niece is burying you in abstract crayon art… A/N: Happy new year!

Part 1

Your phone slips out of your hand and clatters on the ground at your feet. Blood rushes in your ears. You run to the front door, pull on your coat and boots, and yank open your door. Before you lock up, you remember your phone. You run back in and grab it. In another thirty seconds you’re in the street, trying to flag down a taxi. The freezing air stings your cheeks, your legs, but nothing compares to the terror flaring in your chest.

What the hell is happening? What was that call? Where is Gemma? Is Matt okay? What about Sarah?

Where is Gemma?

A taxi finally pulls over for you. You rattle off Matt’s address. “Hurry,” you add, voice catching. “It’s an emergency!”

The driver peels away from the curb. You can’t relax; you lean forward, breathing down your driver’s neck, not even buckled until he nervously asks you to sit back. Even then, you’re trembling, your blood pounding. You stuff your hands between your knees, but they’re shaking too.

Ten minutes never have never gone by by so slow.

The second he pulls up to Matt’s house, you open the door. You’re half out of the cab before you remember you need to pay. “Shit shit shit,” you mumble. Your purse is still hanging on its hook by the door back home.

You stare up at Gemma’s open window as you dig through your coat pockets. By some miracle, you find a twenty.

“Here, take it, keep the change,” you blurt, throwing the bill at the driver. You slam the car door shut and squeeze between the parked cars in front of Matt’s house.

The front door is unlocked. You burst inside, heart in your throat.

You freeze.

Half the stair runners are askew, and Gemma’s winter gear is strewn haphazardly across the living room. One of the couch pillows is in the kitchen doorway. You inch forward, barely breathing. The slow cooker is on the floor, and Sarah’s mulled cider is in a brown puddle across the floor, soaking into the pillow. A strangled sob escapes your throat.

You run upstairs to Gemma’s room. It’s empty, cold… The window is still open. Scribbled-upon papers litter the floor, covered in crayon and pen. Gemma’s bed isn’t made—but then again, it never is. You fall to your knees and press your hands to her bare sheets, willing them to reveal your niece. What’s happened to her? What’s happened to your brother?

In your pocket, your phone starts buzzing.

You flinch in surprise. Damn it, you should have called the cops by now! You pull your phone out and stare blankly at the screen before registering that it’s Bucky calling.

Thank god.

“Bucky!”

“Hey darlin’, how are y—”

“Matt and Gemma are missing!” you cry.

“What?”

You collapse onto Gemma’s bed. “Matt called and he said Gemma was missing and then someone else was there and the line went dead and now they’re gone and—”

“Woah, woah, hey, calm down,” Bucky interrupts. “Where are you?”

“Their house.” You sniff. “I haven’t even called the police, I just… ran over.”

“Okay. Okay.” Bucky is quiet for a moment, but you can hear his breathing accelerating. “I’m on my way there now. I’m going to call Steve, okay? If this is about what I think it’s about, we’ll be able to do more than the police. Okay?”

You bite your lip to keep your crying quiet. Instincts from the days before Bucky—most of your life, really—all want you to hang up and call the police. But Bucky’s not wrong. The Winter Soldier and Captain America have more resources at the arsenal than every police force in America. Probably.

“Y-yeah. Okay,” you tell him. “When will you be here?”

“Soon,” he says. “Where’s Sarah?”

“I—I don’t know. Her cider’s all over the kitchen floor…”

“Can you call her?”

“Um, okay. Yeah.” You sit up slowly. Your head is spinning, but you nod. “I can do that.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Bucky promises. “Call Sarah, and I’ll be there before you know it.” He pauses. “We’ll figure it out. It’ll be okay, darlin’. I promise.”

“Okay.”

You hang up. What else is there to say?

When you call Sarah’s phone, it rings from their bedroom next door. Your heart drops.

No one answers.

“Hello?” you call.

No one answers.

If Sarah is with her phone, why didn’t she answer it? Why would she ignore you?

She wouldn’t. She never has. The only options that come to mind are that she’s missing too—or she’s lying prone in her bedroom. Dead or unconscious.

You bolt to your feet and fly into the other bedroom.

An ounce of tension lifts from your shoulders. The bedroom’s empty; Sarah’s not here. At least she’s not dead—not that you can see. You still have no idea what’s going on, but at least you haven’t seen any dead bodies today.

“Darlin’?”

You jump. It’s Bucky. “Up here!”

Two sets of footsteps pound up the stairs. Two? You spin to face Bucky, who buries you in his arms without preamble. Over his shoulder, you see Steve going straight into Gemma’s room, his face drawn and focused. You close your eyes and let yourself relax into Bucky’s hold, burying your face in his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. His metal hand is secure across your back; the other is on your neck, warm and grounding.

“Oh god, thank god you’re here,” you whisper. You pull back. There are wet spot on Bucky’s shirt, and you lift your hands to your cheeks in surprise. Oh. You’re crying.

Bucky brushes your tears away, his eyes soft but his mouth set. “We’re going to find them. And then we’re going to make sure nothing like this every happens again.”

Bucky and Steve go through the upstairs one room at a time. You hover along behind them, trying not to get in their way, but the house isn’t big and those two aren’t exactly small. Every other minute, you’re in their way. But they never send you away. Bucky’s focused on studying the rooms, looking for clues, but he says nothing.

When they move downstairs, you linger in Gemma’s room. You kneel at her bedside again, tracing the empty indent on her pillow. God, what’s happened to her? Your sweet niece, with her happy laugh and her stubborn determination and her ominous certainty—

You put your head against the spot where she sleeps, wishing you could close your eyes and hear her breathing, hear her heartbeat, hear anything that would reassure you she’s alive.

Downstairs, Steve and Bucky start to talk. You sit up and listen hard.

“This has to be about her powers,” Bucky says.

“I agree.” Steve sighs. “What’s the plan?”

“What’re you askin’ me for?”

“She’s your… dammit, I’ve never even been here before, Buck! You know these people.”

A thump—did Bucky punch something? You hope he didn’t leave a dent.

“Keep it together, Buck,” Steve hisses. “Your girl’s upstairs!”

Before Steve finishes, you can hear Bucky stomping up to you. By the time he reaches you, you’re sitting on Gemma’s bed, your hands between your knees. You can’t imagine what you look like, what with the crying and the terror, but Bucky doesn’t comment. All he does is kneel at your feet and take your hands in his. He stares up at you with tender concern.

“How are you doing?” he murmurs. You shake your head, unable to meet his eyes.

“I don’t know. I keep wishing her damn bed would tell me where she is.” You force a laugh. “Crazy, right?”

Bucky joins you on the bed and pulls you into his arms. “No,” he says. “Not crazy.” He settles his chin on your head. “I’m sorry to do this, but can you tell me about the phone call?”

You tell him as much as you can. The phone call, your harried trip over, your exploration of the abandoned house. He listens in silence.

“—and to think, I was going to have a nice night,” you finish with a sniff, thinking of the unlit candles and the pie no doubt setting off fire alarms in your oven and the new lingerie. What was all of that against your brother, his wife, your niece? “God. That sounds so selfish.”

“Trust me,” Bucky says, pulling back, “it’s not.” He kisses away the tears clinging to your cheeks, then tugs you back against him for a last, brief hug. When he pulls back, the dismay is clear on his face. “I don’t want to leave you. But I—we, Steve and me, need to get to the bottom of this.”

“I’ll be okay,” you say. You’re pretty sure it’s a lie, but what does that matter? “Go. Find them. Save them, and then come home safe.”

Bucky squeezed your hands. He studies your face, his blue eyes intent as if he were memorizing you. “Yes, ma’am.”

After Bucky and Steve leave, you call the police as instructed. It’s easier to tell the story this time. Or maybe you’re just numb.

Either way, you let them take your statement. You let them root around your brother’s empty house. You let them bring you out of Gemma’s room, downstairs, outsi—

“Wait,” you blurt.

You turn and rush back inside, back upstairs, and into Gemma’s room.

“This is a crime scene!” one of the officers says, running after you. She tries to grab your arm, but misses as you kneel on the floor and pick up a piece of paper.

Your heart pounds. It’s one of Gemma’s drawings. All the other pages on the floor are pictures of people, of animals, of houses or rocks or flowers. This one, though?

This one is abstract.

You stare at the paper clutched in your hands as the officer leads you back outside. Her lecture goes in one ear and out the other.

Gemma, you think, what are you trying to say?

Read Part 3 here!

[bagelbite]

so my thoughts on endgame

yes this does contain spoilers and yes, i will continue to tag any of my spoilers as “endgame”

did i hate the movie? no. it had many very good moments that i will list before i list the problems i had with it

i LOVED all of the humor like they did that so well. like when steve was fighting his younger self and young steve says “i can do this all day” and now steve goes “yeah i know” in this just tired voice. and americas ass. and all of the jokes about rocket being a raccoon. and hulk taking pictures with the kids and then when rocket and hulk were sitting in the back of the truck. when tony threatened to sell all of morgans toys. korg playing fortnite. the whole scott coming back the wrong age bit. hulk having to walk down the stairs. when tony told steve that if he dropped the shield one more time he was gonna keep it. like there were so many parts that were just so funny and i loved it.

i loved all the tender moments. that little moment of friendship between nat and steve where she calls the avengers her family. i was SOBBING when tonys daughter was revealed and at literally every interaction between them. the fact that tony wasnt even going to build the time machine until he saw peters picture and thw fact that he had peters picture at all. tony telling nebula “you won” and her freezing bc shes probably never heard that before. the fact that both nat and clint refused to let the other one die (which was the truest form of love i have ever seen, not romantic but just genuine platonic love. also not that bullshit thanos called love for the very same stone). the moment when clint was looking around for his family and couldnt find them so he was just running back and forth not knowing what to do. im not even going to mention tony and peter’s reunion or goodbye because i was sobbing like a child the entire time. quill thinking for a second that gamora was back. when pepper told tony “we’re going to be okay” and you think she means the world and humanity but she really means her and morgan. the entire interaction between tony and his dad. there were so so many parts that just hit me so hard.

i loved all the heroic parts. carol showing up outside the ship with tony and nebula. steve standing up with his shredded sheild, still fighting on. the fact that steve can fUCKING WEILD THORS HAMMER LIKE BRUH. also that sick combo he did with the sheild and the hammer. the hail hydra moment because steve is so incredibly smart and knows how to work a situation. all of those bad ass women gathering to fucking destroy thanos. the circle opening up and revealing tchalla and shuri and okoye walking out, silhoutted by the light and the wakandan battle cry. the fact that the canons recognized that carol was the largest threat around and firing at the atmosphere to try and stop her and she just fucking rips through them like nothing. carol beating the shit out of thanos and him having to literally hold the power stone in his hand to beat her. that moment where you see all of the heros lined up ready to fight. “i am iron man”.

obviously there are more of every moment, and i loved all of them.

but.

that doesnt mean that i liked the movie. and heres why:

1) thor’s literal character assassination. i reblogged a few posts (that you can find in my endgame tag) that explain this better than i will be able to but bruh. the russo brothers did thor so fucking dirty and it makes me pissed. they made him fat purely for the laughs (which someone pointed out an emphasis on the fact that they literally edited his weight out of the trailers because they wanted to use it as a gag in the movies). also, they blatently ignored and made fun of the fact that thor OBVIOUSLY was grieving and blamed himself for how things had turned out. he has lost literally everything in his life: his home, his father and mother, his brother, his best friend - and now the man who wiped out half of the human population taunted him with his mistake of not going for the head. also, thor literally just went through the whole process of realizing his true power and sacrifing his home in order to protect his people and youre going to tell me that he just decides “mmm imma go to space and leave you all here youre fine without me” like no. also please read this post it makes me so mad its so true.

2) the whole time travel plot. to me it didnt seem well thought out and it leaves so many plot holes. like if removing a stone can create another timeline, i dont think putting the stone back fixes anything. you have still technically created another time line. and like what happened to loki we saw him disappear wouldnt that be another time line??? and like if 2012 or 2014 or whatever thanos came to the present, then wouldnt that create another time line?????? and if steve stayed behind, then thats a whole other time line. like it just doesnt make sense there are so many things that do. not. work. (sidenote: thanos said the infinity stones were reduced to atoms. wouldnt that be reversable by scott and shrinking down into the quantum realm??? this is just an idea)

3) it was predictable. there were SO many times that i was able to tell what was going to happen before it did. like clints family vanishing. and scott finding an older cassie. and scott being turned into a bunch of different ages. and tony saying no and then saying yes. even tony weilding the gauntlet was predictable (i just refused to think about it bc i didnt want to see tony die).

4) steve staying in the past. now im going to preface this saying that im not trying to say that steve didnt deserve it. he did and im happy for him (since this is what the russo brothers have decided to make permanent). steve did deserve happiness and i will even say that he deserved peggy. but. that doesnt mean thats what he should have done. it was out of character for steve (not as bad as thor but still out of character). he would have recognized that the world needed him in the now and he wouldnt have been able to just stay in the past. like steve’s biggest character flaw is that he cant just sit by and do nothing, he always has to act. so now out of no where he just decides that hes gonna screw over everyone in the present and stay behind. like he knows they just lost tony AND nat, two of the og avengers, and hes just gonna decide to leave them hanging without another person???? and hes just going to sit by knowing that bucky is out there being tortured??? ALSO i am absolutely not saying that any part of his talk with sam was unnecessary. i even love the fact that he gave the sheild to sam (black captain america is my shIT HELL YES I AM HERE FOR IT). but. there is no way that steve “even when there was nothing i had bucky” rogers wouldnt say anything to bucky. and i saw someone saying “well they obviously talked off screen” bitch i dont care there are probably thousands of off screen things that happen and thats why we have fanfiction. but the on screen stuff matters and steve just ignores bucky entirely?????? no he fucking doesnt the russo brothers are just afraid to encourage any more interaction between steve and bucky because they fear stucky fans. and im not even saying this as a stucky fan im literally saying it as a marvel fan who knows the smallest amount of steve’s character.

5) tony creating his worst nightmare. tony has said multiple times that he blamed his dad for leaving him and it only makes sense that he would fear having a kid and then leaving them alone. and the russo brothers did just that. they gave tony the life he always wanted and then ripped him from it, creating tonys nightmare at the same time. he has now subjected morgan to live a life like he did, without a father. now personally i dont think tony should have died. did i predict that he was since infinity war (bc of rdj’s contract ending and also it will be very difficult to continue the “next generation” with these huge figures still around), yes. and i know that its unrealistic for everyone to survive in war but so is fucking time travel and they pulled that card. idk i just dont like how they did it.

so overall, i think i loved a lot of the overall moments on film, its just that i didnt like the themes, messages, and character delieveries shown in the movie. im just gonna go watch winter soldier and ragnarok and homecoming and captain marvel and black panther and all the other Actually Good marvel movies.

[thisissirius]

so i saw endgame. spoilers below obviously.

so anybody that knows me, knows that tony stark is hugely important to me. i started reading iron man comics that i stole from my brother at the age of 8, and he has been my favourite ever since. bucky barnes is like right up there, but tony stark always has the edge. 

going in, i was terrified of what might happen thinking rdj is the end, right? it’s obvious he’s gonna leave somehow but that does not in any way prepare you for what’s gonna come. i am at a loss tbh. i haven’t even tried to put my feelings into thoughts because it’s genuinely heartbreaking. i was sobbing in the cinema and had tickets for this morning which i had to cancel because i could not put myself through that again so soon. 

sure, it’s in the last part of the movie but jesus, it hurts.

natasha. what an awful, awful, AWFUL way for her to die. the fact that it was her and not clint will always fuck me off tbh. she deserved better and she deserved to keep her family. IT WASN’T EVEN A SACRIFICE. it was an accident. 

i don’t .... i cannot put into words how devastated i am that the two characters i lost are tony and natasha. it’s heartbreaking.

that said, the movie itself was great but full of gaping issues lmao. 

the time shit just doesn’t work. whatever explanation they give, the past becoming the future, the future being present blah blah doesn’t work when you have characters changing KEY EVENTS and things still progress as normal? S U R E.

don’t get me started on the idiocy that was steve going back in time to spend ~forever with peggy. i’ve seen people argue both sides; it works! somebody would notice peggy married to steve! to me, it’s just a lazy way to get him out of commission for the hand over of the shield.

the worst thing is, it CANT MAKE SENSE and everything work out the same way. it just cant, no matter what shitty reason they give.

returning the stones? dumb as rocks. how you GONNA RETURN THE SOUL STONE? the 70s? no big deal, just walk back into the bunker and pretend i know what im doing. the scepter? the time stone? the REALITY STONE? steve rogers just walking onto asgard and putting the ether back in jane? jshajf IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE and they were just like HERE HAVE OLD STEVE AND FORGET THAT WE DIDNT EXPLAIN SHIT ABOUT HOW HE WAS GONNA RETURN THE STONES BYE

a l so the whole howard stark and tony MESS just upset me. i get it, we want redemption for howard because apparently the russos love him or disney was like “make him great! tony’s a father! let’s have some emotions!” but howard stark is a shitty father at best, abusive at worst and i HATE IT. get out of here with that shit. 

PEGGY WAS AMAZING AND I LOVE LOVE LOVE JARVIS FROM AGENT CARTER BECAUSE Y E S

that said, a MESS EVERYWHERE TBH

ugh. 

PROFESSOR HULK. i’m... in two minds. I LOVED IT and i know the bff did lol, but it’s also super weird to me BUT IM SURE I’LL GET USED TO IT BRUCE WAS GREAT THIS EPISODE and him getting to undo the snap was PERFECT

clint’s journey was pretty much wasted, i hated the whole nebula killing nebula and there being no repercussions from that? thanos was just .... didnt make sense idek, i forgot how much i hated his reasoning in iw and it wasn’t helped in eg, and then i had to deal with him being like “lol im gonna sit here and let you come to me and it’s clear my message is correct and dlkjhdja no”

thor’s journey distressed me in so many ways. it was played for laughs so many times and just generally hurt my soul. it should have been handled better. when the only person doing the right thing with thor is rocket the fucking raccoon? we got problems. 

DONT GET ME WRONG THERE WERE SOME EPIC MOMENTS

steve wielding mjolnir will forever be my favourite thing. with that, STEVE AND TONY AND THOR being the PERFECT PERFECT PERFECT trio in that end fight. YES THANKS. tony stark saving the universe twice over; once with the time loop and the second time with the gauntlet. pepper potts being perfect and awesome. she saved the universe, guys, with her convincing tony to go. never forget. AND IRON HEART YES THANKS. it was VISUALLY STUNNING and the fight scenes were great everyone got a great showing, tbh, and i love everyone carol was... actually well handled. i was concerned for a while how they would handle it, but she WORKS nebula was GREAT.  despite how annoyed i was at the treatment of women majorly in this movie, the scenes of ALL the women helping carol get through the army? AMAZING. i had chills and i’m pretty sure i said “im glad im a lesbian” because let me tell you, they are amazing and i love them

THE STONY/STEVETONY/SUPERHUSBANDS the steve and tony moments were PERFECT. their fight at the beginning, with too-thin tony and a devastated steve felt perfect and real. i don’t think i will ever recover from tony thrusting the arc reactor into steve’s hands, or him calling steve a liar, or steve’s own disbelief and sadness about what’s happened to them. 

i love their meeting when tony decides to help out, and the returning of the shield, and their interactions.

the fact that they get the same mission, and then have their little you trust me, i do moment and going undercover together in the 70s and lksjha.

THE ASS COMMENT are we worthy NOPE

i forever maintain that the ending should have been steve retiring and be like “nah” and instead, sticking around to be uncle steve to morgan, because i honestly believe that without peggy and natasha and tony? there’s not a whole lot left for him. but.

NOW BUCKY BARNES. i just... we didnt get a lot obvs, but what we did get was PERFECT. i loved that he KNEW steve wasn’t coming back, i love that he said goodbye in the only way the two of them COULD say goodbye, and i will forever love that moment between him and sam with bucky’s like whatever, of course you’re captain america, duh

(on that note, i had Feelings about sam consoling bucky at tony’s wedding? why does he need consoling? i have QUESTIONS and i’m probably gonna have to write out my feelings considering my winteriron feelings are growing.)

so in the end, i loved it as a whole, got my ship content, and the fight scenes were phenomenal.

but i lost natasha and my found family.

i lost tony stark, which is a much harder pill to swallow.

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Qi Flows for Her

Chapter Five

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC x Bucky Barnes  |  Word Count: 5112 Warnings: Language, angst

Celine made sure she was last onto the jet where she took Bucky’s previous seat in the back, darkened corner, as far away from the others as she could get. She snapped the hair band wrapped around her wrist, using the physical pain to remind herself to breathe. Her hair hung forward, hiding her face. Back to the straight, dark brown of before, she listened as they murmured about the rest of what they found and looked after Peter who had been knocked out for his own good.

God… that had hurt like rejection hadn’t hurt in years.

Hunched over, she leaned her face against the wall, the metal cool against her skin. A tear worked its way down her cheek. She’d known this was going to happen, had been saying so since the beginning. Yet, she’d still chanced to hope this time would be different. This time someone would see her for who she truly was and not react with fear.

Why do I bother to hope? She snapped the elastic at her wrist again.

“Celine…” The whisper of Charles' voice only made her flinch.

“Go away, Charles…”

“Darling, I can feel your pain.”

“Pain you have a part in instigating. Go away, Charles!”

“Celine… please…”

She sighed. “What did you expect? That I’d come here, reveal myself, and everything would be tea and crumpets? Go… the fuck… away!” She gave a mighty push and slammed her shields closed.

Her inner demons were relentless after. The voices of hate and disgust hissed and wailed in her head. The self-loathing caused her to wrap her hands around her middle. She was an abomination. A freak. A thing to be feared and despised. No one wanted her. No one would care if she just walked away.

Disappeared.

Died.

The phone in her pocket vibrated.

She ignored it.

It continued to go off for the next fifteen minutes straight, becoming an annoying vibration against her thigh until she finally dug it free. “What?” she sighed, expecting Charles.

“Little girl, next time you pick the fuckin’ phone up on the first ring!” The snarling voice of Logan had her lip twitching.

“Yes, papa,” she sassed.

“What the fuck happened, Celine?” he demanded.

Sighing, she glanced through her hair at the others speaking quietly away from her. “Can’t, Logan. Not now.”

“You’re on the plane?”

“Yeah.”

“Did they hurt you?” he snarled.

“No.”

“Not physically, you mean. Dammit, Charles! I told you sending her was a bad idea!”

It almost made her smile. The Wolverine was highly protective of those he called family. “I’m a big girl, Logan,” she murmured. “I tie my own shoes and everything. I’ll be fine.”

He huffed a dismissive bark of sound. “You ain’t fine! I can tell you ain’t fine! Do I need to come kick around a few super soldiers again? Cause I fuckin’ will!”

“The way I heard it, it sounded like a draw, though Steve said you’re a heavy son of a gun.”

“He’s one to talk,” Logan grumbled.

Leaning her head back against the wall, Celine smiled slightly. “Put up a bit of a fight, did he?”

He snorted. “Decent enough.”

“Good. You were getting full of yourself again.”

“Tricky little witch,” he scoffed. Silence descended for a few seconds before he murmured, “Celine… you can come home. I can replace you if you want.”

She wiped the tear from her cheek. “Nope. Charles sent me. I’m staying until they kick me out.” No matter how much it hurt.

“Look, if you’re doing this to punish Charles cause you’re pissed, then don’t. He’s already hurt you shut him out.”

This time she snorted. “He deserved it.”

“Yeah, probably,” he chuckled. “Take care of yourself, darlin’. And if you need me?”

“I’ll let you know, Logan. Tell Rogue I miss her.”

He grunted just before the line going dead.

She stuffed the phone back in her pocket and returned to her silent reflection, feeling only slightly better.

When the jet landed what felt like hours later, she was down the ramp and into the tower as if the hounds of hell were nipping her heels. To her mind, it wasn't far from the truth.

***

Steve and Bucky watched her go, neither knowing how to fix what they’d wrought.

Peter was alright, the bullet nothing more than a flesh wound, but the way the boy had reacted to her… they’d quite literally watched her heart break.

She was far more powerful than they’d realized. So much so, she’d plucked a soldier off the mountain and ate him before throwing something, likely his soul, into... hell? The underworld? Somewhere else? They had no idea.

Were they a little disconcerted? Sure. Who wouldn’t the hell be? But were they scared of her? No. The shock had kept them mute though, something they now realized had done a lot of harm.

She’d sat, huddled and silent in the corner, gradually curling in on herself, getting smaller with each passing moment until her phone had rung.

Steve had been about to go over and force her to answer when she’d finally dug it free on her own.

The irate voice of Logan was one he’d never forget, and he’d exchanged an eye roll with Bucky. He was a gruff son of a gun, but intensely loyal and protective, especially of Charles. Clearly, that protection extended to Celine.

Logan’s accusation, the comment about hurting her, had caused both of them to stiffen in offence. Her denial and his rewording had jabbed them both firmly with guilt.

Logan was right. They hadn’t hurt her physically. Emotionally? In her heart?

Yes.

“Shit,” Steve hissed softly once the others had exited.

“More like fuck, punk. We screwed up.” Bucky sighed, making his way toward Celine’s seat where he crouched down and swiped his fingers through the dark droplets on the floor. “She’s been bleeding.”

“What?” Steve jolted, coming quickly to Buck’s side.

“Yeah. We should check on her.”

“Pretty sure she doesn’t want to see us, pal.”

“So? We fucked up. We should fix it before it gets worse.” Bucky got to his feet and headed for the doors.

They walked in silence, both feeling intensely guilty.

She'd done some incredible things tonight, but they hadn’t told her so. Had her force been a little excessive? Sure, but seeing Peter take a bullet had Steve longing to hit the asshole sniper with his shield, so he understood how upset Celine must have been.

When Natasha stepped into the corridor, blocking them from getting on the elevator,  Steve heard Bucky sigh and tried not to echo it.

“Need something, Nat?” Steve asked.

“I hope you get it now. You'll send her on her way?”

Steve frowned and shook his head. “Why? Celine’s part of this team.”

“Really!” she snapped. “After seeing what she did? What she is?”

“What I saw was a powerful woman who was treated like a freak tonight by her own team. Me included. She's still a person. Still Celine. Her powers don't make her anything different.”

“Shit! You've got a hard-on for her too! I knew Barnes was balls deep, but I expected better of you, Cap.”

Bucky’s hand wrapped around her throat and slammed her into the wall. “You're pushing the line, Natalia,” he snarled softly. “Celine may be Styx, she may be ridiculously powerful, but she's bruised, broken, and your snide comments aren't doing anyone any good!”

“She’ll destroy this team!”

“You said the same thing of me when Steve brought me in. The ghost. The Winter Soldier. The HYDRA weapon. Fuck you, Nat! She's no different!”

She blinked at him, stunned. “She's completely different! Did you not watch her kill a man tonight by eating his life force? Was that simply my imagination?”

“And I kill people with a gun or a knife. So what?”

“You're not about to take us all out in our sleep!”

“But I could if I wanted to!” he roared. “So could you, goddamnit, but you don't see any of us trying to shove you out the door!”

Laying a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, Steve urged his friend to let Natasha go. Once he had, Steve rounded on her himself. “You've taken issue with Celine since the moment she arrived. What's the beef, Nat? What's the real problem here?”

“This is the real issue! You're both so blinded by the hot new piece of ass; you can't see the danger she presents.”

“And me, Natasha? Am I also blinded by a hot piece of ass?” Wanda asked, appearing behind them. She looked at him, and Steve felt a clutch around his heart. The red wash of power in her eyes showed how disconcerted she was feeling. “But then, I am also one to be feared, to be treated like a freak. To be caged and collared because of what I am. What Hydra made me.”

“Wanda, no… I…” Natasha shook her head. “You're different.”

“How?” she asked coming closer. “I use similar powers. I can kill nearly as easily. You also locked me up to keep me away from people because I was a danger to society. Because you didn't trust me. Celine has shown me nothing but kindness after I have proved myself untrustworthy three times,” her voice rasped with self-hatred. “I keep telling myself, I cannot control other people's fear, only my own. Tonight… I failed at both.”

She walked away, and Steve's heart cracked. It appeared many of them were regretting what happened tonight.

“Celine is part of this team. She stays part of this team,” Steve said with finality.

“Fine. But my working with her comes as a last resort. I don't trust her to have my back.” Nat spun and headed away from where Wanda had gone.

Bucky waited only until she was out of earshot before muttering, “I'm not sure I trust you'll have hers.”

“Buck,” Steve sighed.

“I ain't ever seen her like this, Steve. She's been confrontational and just…”

“Nasty,” Sam muttered, wandering down the hall. “I'll go talk to her.”

“You alright with what happened tonight?” Steve asked.

“Alright?” He took a deep breath, eyes widening as he shrugged. “Not sure I’d say alright. Am I gonna throw a hissy fit? Nah. I kinda think Scott’s got the right idea. Better with us than against us.” He patted Steve's shoulder. “Am I gonna think twice about pissing her off? Hell yeah!” Chuckling, Sam continued on after Natasha.

“That's four,” Bucky murmured, a smirk twitching his lip. “Let's go poke the bear, see if she'll forgive us.”

“I think you mean the dragon. Damn that was cool,” Steve grinned.

“Now you sound like Parker.” Bucky’s face fell as they got on the elevator. “You think the kid will come round?”

Steve sighed. “Hope so.”

She’d been so happy spending time with Peter. Having the kid look at her in fear had just killed her.

When they stepped off the elevator, they had the answer hit them full force.

“Celine! Please!” Peter was standing outside her room, one hand pressed to his ribs, the other banging on her door. “I'm sorry! Let me explain!”

“Peter? Shouldn't you be in the med wing?” Steve asked sternly.

The kid shook his head. “Not until I apologize. Not until I tell her how sorry…” Pain took his breath, not all of it physical.

“Okay, kid.” Taking Peter by the elbow, Steve held him up. “How long you been here?” he asked.

Seeing as how the kid was still in his suit, he doubted Parker had even been to see Bruce, or if he had, the kid had snuck out.

“A while,” Peter mumbled.

“And she hasn't answered?”

Peter shook his head.

“FRIDAY located Celine.”

“Celine is on the roof. Captain? It appears she's is quite distraught. She is standing on the roof ledge.”

“What?!” Three voices bellowed before all of them scrambled for the elevator. It took them to the glassed-in common room where they barreled out the door to hit the exterior stairs which would take them to the roof.

Steve grabbed Peter's shoulder. “Are you alright to go around? If something goes sideways…” He didn't need to say Peter was the only one capable of catching Celine.

“I'm good, Cap!” Peter turned to go.

Steve dragged him back. “You stay out of sight. Let us talk to her before you do anything; you get me?”

“Yes, sir!” Peter nodded.

“Go.” He gave the kid a small shove and sprinted up the stairs after Bucky. His heart stuttered when she came into view.

Hair blowing back in the wind, balanced on the balls of her feet, she stood, hands relaxed at her sides, staring out over the city.

“Celine?” Bucky called quietly.

“Doll, you want to come down from there?” Steve asked, both of them edging closer.

Her head turned only enough to show them her profile. The tear streaks were impossible to miss. “Not particularly, Captain. I like the view.”

“Sweetheart, we'd really like it if you came down from there,” Bucky muttered, moving slowly forward.

“I am not your sweetheart, Sergeant. I am not your doll, your baby, your darlin’. I am Celine. I am… a vampire. I am Styx. And I am always to be feared.” She turned to walk the narrow edge of the building.

“Celine, please come down.” Steve would beg if he had to.

She paused, looked at him, and sighed. “You believe I do this, walk this ledge because I wish to hurt myself?” A snort of derision escaped her. “I wish to clear my mind, nothing more.” She turned back to face the city, turning her back on them. “I have no wish for company, especially from those who see me as something to be despised.”

Striding forward, Bucky reached for her arm only to have her dance out of his reach. “Celine!”

“What, Sergeant? Are you here to look at me with fear again? Are you going to tell me to leave? Explain how I am too much a freak to be part of the Avengers?” Night seemed to flow into her, swirl around her. It darkened her hair and brightened her eyes. She stepped backward, crouched, and snarled like an angry animal. “Then you tell me now to go, and I will pack my things!”

“No, Celine,” Steve said, holding up his hands. He approached with caution like he would a wounded creature. “Yes, you surprised us with what you did, maybe even spooked us at first, but we're not afraid of you.”

“Yes, you were!” she almost howled. “And after you said…” She shook her head. “I knew you would fear me. Everyone fears me. I should never have hoped for anything different.”

The words were so soft they could barely hear them, but they hit harder than the Hulk.

Bucky walked toward her, hands raised. “Read me, my aura, my emotions. I’m not afraid of you, Celine. Steve’s not afraid. Sam’s not afraid. Peter isn’t afraid. Wanda isn’t afraid. Come down. Talk to us. Let us show you.” He held out his hand.

“No… no, you lie!” She gave a violent shake of her head. “I won't look! I won't! I can't take anymore! Why are you so cruel?”

Peter landed on the ledge a few feet away. “Celine, I am so sorry.”

She whipped to face him, and Bucky lunged.

His arms closed around her, dragged her from the edge and back to the center of the roof. Expecting a struggle, he held her tightly, but she only sagged, eyes wide and staring at Peter.

The curl smoothed from her hair, the colour lightened. Her eyes lost their glow, and her face fell. Instead of struggling, she turned into Bucky, turned away from Peter, as a distressed cry escaped her lips.

“No, no… you were afraid. I made you afraid. You wouldn’t… let me help…” she moaned, clinging to Bucky.

This time it was the devastation on Peter’s face which broke Steve’s heart. “Celine, doll face Peter’s sorry. He, like us, didn’t mean to hurt you. But you were pretty impressive tonight. More than we’d expected. Read us. See for yourself. It's not a joke.”

“Promise,” Bucky murmured and stroked her arm. “No one's gonna be cruel, darlin’. Give us a chance.”

She bit her lip and looked between the two of them. Such pain shadowed her eyes Steve's heart felt like it tore open for her and whatever trauma had forced her to this point, to where she felt the need to wall herself off from everyone.

A moment passed before her amber eyes filled with relief and she sagged against Bucky. “Oh…” the word flew free on a heavy exhale.

“Can you forgive us, baby?” Steve threaded his fingers through her hair, gently pulling her head back so he could see her eyes.

They were wet, as was her face, so he wiped her cheeks dry. A breath shuddered from her, and she gave a slow nod. She looked as shocked, possibly as stunned as he and Bucky had been when she’d thrown a dragon into the sky and plucked a man off the mountain.

“I thought your dragon was incredible, Celine,” Steve said softly.

“And the way you dealt with the guards on the gate, and the people at the warehouse… amazing,” Bucky smiled.

“You were really spectacular, Celine. I'm… sorry I hurt your feelings,” said Peter, coming closer. “You did… kinda startle me, what with you havin’ just, like, eaten a dude. I promise it won't make me spaz out on you next time.”

“Peter,” she whispered, hands tight to her chest.

“Hug?” he asked, holding out the one arm. The other remaining pressed to his wound.

Bucky let her go, but Celine was hesitant to reach out until Parker gave an exasperated sigh and simply dragged her in via a shot of webbing and hugged her.

“You wanna fix me now?” Peter asked. “That is if it's still okay?”

She nodded a small jerk of her head before placing her green glowing fingers on his side.

His eyes widened in surprise when the pain disappeared. “Wow. Celine, you're so awesome!” He laughed as he lifted her off her feet and swung her around.

“Peter!” she squealed in surprise.

Chuckling, he dropped her to her feet and hugged her tight with both arms. “Thanks, doll,” he drawled, bussing her a kiss to the cheek - bold little shit-eating grin on his face - and darted away. “I'll check-in with Bruce. See ya tomorrow!”

She pressed her fingers to her cheek, eyes full of tears, but a smile was twitching her lips. Turning to face them, her smile broke free. “You people are so messed up.”

Bucky grinned while Steve laughed.

“Maybe it's your previous fri-uh-colleagues who were messed up,” Steve said with a sheepish grin.

“Yeah, darlin’,” Bucky smirked, “You just needed a couple’a old guys and a kid to see you for who you really are.”

“Speak for yourself, pal. I ain't old,” Steve snorted.

“Maybe being in the ice that long just froze your self-preservation brain cells,” Celine quipped.

“Then what's Peter’s excuse?” Bucky asked.

“Young and foolish,” she scoffed. “He doesn't know any better.”

Steve shook his head and held out his hand. “C’mon. You were bleeding on the jet. Let’s see it.”

She arched a brow in wry condemnation. “After the last few days, do you honestly think I cannot fix myself?”

He arched one in return, shook his hand and said, “Just give!” It was a fair imitation of what she’d done the day they’d met, causing Bucky to burst out laughing.

Rolling her eyes, Celine stalked forward to hold her hand out palm up. “There, you see? Perfectly fine.”

Steve frowned as he traced his fingers over her palm. “What did you…” he started to ask when it dawned on him what she’d likely done to herself. “Celine…” Heart hurting, guilt filled him for what she’d gone through, those talons of hers digging into her flesh with her anguish. “I am sorry.”

Her eyes softened. “I know, Steve.”

Bucky collected her opposite hand, sighing quietly as he stared at her unmarked flesh. “I promised you I wouldn’t feel any differently and at the first opportunity to prove it, I fucked it up.”

She gave her own sigh, released their hands, and patted both chests. “You are good men, but you are only human. I am,” she shook her head and turned away, “not.”

Steve went after her, grabbing her by the elbow to drag her back against his chest. “You are as human as the two of us. Powerful you may be, but you’re still human, Celine.”

Her eyes brightened, and her hair curled. “I am not. Human’s do not feed off other humans.”

“Your mutation only makes you different, Celine. It doesn’t make you less human.” Bucky’s hand curled around the back of her neck.

Trapped between the two of them again, Steve couldn’t help but notice the heat she radiated like a furnace. People always commented on how hot he or Bucky ran, but Celine seemed to nearly double their temperature. Cupping her chin, he tilted her face up, so her diamond-bright eyes shone for him to see. “You aren’t a freak. You’re an Avenger. We’re all a little… abnormal.” He couldn’t understand how she could’ve grown up in a place like Xavier’s school and view herself so differently from the other mutants. If anything, it should have been a place she fit into fairly well.

“I believe I’m a lot abnormal, Steve,” she chuckled, the curl of her hair growing more prominent as her eyes drifted down to his lips.

Bucky’s hand went from her nape to her throat, pressing up beneath Steve’s to tilt her head back onto his shoulder. “You ain’t the one with the vibranium arm,” he said, smirk growing.

Her eyes watched his lips as well before her tongue darted out, moistening hers.

Steve had never wanted to kiss a woman as badly as he did Celine in that instant. The desire he was trying to contain roared into life.

It sent her eyes darting back to his. They blazed bright, burned into him, filled with distress and sent her jerking away from them both. “Sorry! Sorry. That’s my bad… ha, I should go.” She darted away, down the stairs before either of them could move to stop her.

Groaning, Steve thrust his hand through his hair. “Fuck!”

“No shit,” Bucky muttered, trying to adjust his pants without being overly obvious.

“What the hell keeps happening here?” Steve grumbled.

Sighing, Bucky shook his head. “I don’t know, punk, but…” a wash of red filled his cheeks, “I… kind of like it.”

“What?” he gasped, jerking his head up to look at Bucky.

The metal-armed soldier shrugged. “Feels… good having her between us. I don’t know. She just… fits.”

“Bucky…” Steve shook his head.

“I know, I know. Can’t seduce a recruit,” he huffed. “But Steve, you can’t tell me you don’t feel it. We ain’t talked about it, keep pushin’ it to the side, but we can’t fight what we’re feeling.”

“She won’t even be a friend, Buck. Besides, you just watched her rabbit when she got a hint of something off me. I’m not going to put that pressure on Celine.” Steve stalked toward the stairs. “I don’t even know what the hell is happening! Every time it's just us, you, me, her, it’s….”

“Intense sexual heat?” Bucky chuckled.

“Laugh it up, jackass,” Steve grumbled.

“I’m serious!” he scoffed. Grabbing Steve’s arm, Bucky forced him to stop. “I’m asking this in all seriousness, if she chose me over you, would you be okay with it?”

“Bucky… I… Why are you even going there?”

“It’s a hypothetical, Steve. Just answer the fucking question.”

“I’d have to be, wouldn’t I?”

“But you’d hate it, right?”

Jerking his arm away, Steve snapped, “Yes, damn it! I’d hate it!” and stormed down the stairs.

Bucky simply jumped over the rail to land in front of him. “I’d be the same way!”

Coming to a stop, Steve’s eyes closed in pain. “I know, Buck. I can’t be your rival. I won’t be. I don’t have it in me to go against you, and you know it.”

“Stevie.” Bucky’s hands closed over his shoulders, gripped tight, shook him a little. “You think I could?”

When he looked up, Bucky’s eyes were bright with emotion. The smack which came to Steve’s cheek was anything but light, yet it was full of affection, even as it stung something fierce.  

“You’re my brother, Steve. I wouldn’t ever do that to you. I love you, pal, and we’ve been through too much hell to fight over a girl, even a dame as amazing as Celine. Whatever comes, we’ll figure it out. Besides, she’s skittish as a baby deer,” he sighed. “Doubt it will go anywhere for either of us.”

Both sighed unhappily and continued inside.

***

A little panicked, Celine made her way back to her room, thankful she avoided seeing anyone else. Riding in the elevator, she allowed herself a small amount of hysterical laughter for, sure enough, she’d found herself sandwiched happily - and hornily - between the two soldiers again. Her nature had taken over thanks to her overactive libido, and she’d drawn them in.

And it had felt… good. Too good.

The spike in Steve’s chi had nearly made her moan and beg for a taste. The Captain was potent!

Bucky, too, though slightly more in control, his arousal had shivered through her. It was subtle, like the nip in the air which preceded a snowstorm but it was still delectable.

So intent was she on the near taste she’d had, something she really should be berating herself for, Celine did not notice the aura waiting in her room until her hand was on the doorknob. Steeling her spine, she slowly pushed her door inward.

The lights were on, the one sitting on her couch doing nothing to hide her presence. Natasha smirked smugly at her.

“I do not remember inviting you to my room,” Celine said cautiously, remaining in the doorway.

“You didn’t. Come in, shut the door, and sit down.”

Brow arching, Celine snorted. “I think I will stay where I am.”

Anger flared in her aura before Natasha smoothed it away. “I think… Adeline, you will want to do what I say.”

The use of her real name was so rare, Celine momentarily froze. Closing the door, she moved toward Natasha, growing angrier by the second. “So, you have found my birth name. What of it?”

Picking up a tablet, Nat read, “Born Adeline Evans to one Tammy Evans, drug addict junky, and alcoholic absentee father, Marcus Evans. Ran away from home at thirteen, wanted for questioning in the death of one Franklin Delacore after he was found dead on the floor of your bedroom.”

She refused to flinch, only sat in an armchair and crossed her legs. There was nothing there. Charles had seen to the reports, the heart attack the man had had was ruled as an accident. Her mother’s drugged up ravings were nothing more than the ramblings of a woman out of her mind.

“Lived on the street, it seems from the age of thirteen until fifteen.” Here Nat looked up. “Wouldn’t it be interesting if the police were informed of the mutant Styx whose MO perfectly fits the two cold cases they have from way back when Adeline was a teenage runaway.”

“What do you want, Natasha?” Celine asked, without a hint any of what she’d said had been true.

“Oh, I’m not done yet,” she fairly purred. “There’s also the information about poor Thomas and Jacob. Nasty business that. It really would be a travesty if the new team found out what you’d done to your old team. To your friends.”

“What do you want, Natasha?” Celine asked a second time.

“What I want is for you to leave and never come back, but we can’t always get what we want, so how about what I need?”

Tired of these games, Celine snapped, “Just spit it out, Widow!” Hair curling, nails lengthening, she dug her talons into the cushioned arms of her chair.

Natasha stiffened her entire countenance sharpening. “I’ve safeguards in place, Styx, so think twice about hurting me. Anything happens to me here, or on a mission, you're a part of… all this information goes public.” She smiled, a predatory baring of teeth. “It would be a pity if the Professor's involvement in all your messes came to light.”

The cold weight of fear wrapped around Celine’s heart. “Get to the point, Natasha.”

“I see how you look at them you know. Steve and Bucky. They’re too blinded by the pretty girl to see the monster you really are. You're going to stay away from them; you're going to stay away from all my friends. You'll limit your involvement with the team outside of missions.” She got slowly to her feet, triumph and bravado coating her innate fear of what Celine was. “Isolate yourself, Celine, or I'll do it for you. Permanently.” Striding toward the door, Natasha dropped the tablet in Celine’s lap, the faces of Jacob and Thomas staring up at her from the screen.

Celine spoke softly, “Be careful, Widow. What you try so hard to protect… may not take kindly to your methods.”

“You’ll never tell them. You try so hard to be human, fit in, but you're a monster. I know it. You know it. If they knew what you'd done….” Natasha let the words hang as she shut the door and walked away.

Celine stared down at her lap and lightly touched first one and then the other face.

Natasha may have found the information on the boys, she may know some of Charles involvement, she suspected the Widow had likely bugged her room, but Natasha didn't know everything. She couldn't for there were no records of what Celine was beyond the mental knowledge shared by four people.

But the two smiling faces on the tablet in her lap, the one lost and the one…. She couldn't bear to think about it. The pain it caused was simply too great.

She placed her hand flat on the screen and ignored the tears which fell down her face as she cried for things she could never make right, and for the life she might have possibly had here.

Next Chapter

[blakegallo]

i want to congratulate black panther on it’s academy awards nominations. i’m happy for this historic moment, i’m happy for the cultural significance of the film. i thought i could complain briefly, but i rambled and so under the cut is me rambling and complaining. 

but i am happy. particularly for their costuming and production design awards. the movie did a lot really well.

but i don’t think it’s best picture?

i really liked black panther when i watched it the first time. i really enjoyed it the second time. shuri is the best thing to come from the mcu [ she’s been hardcore sidelined and offscreen dusted, but still.... ]

i’m not going to sit here and deny the cultural significance of the movie.

and as a black person i’m really happy to see black people on screen in a movie backed by a major studio...

but like, i’m also not going to sit here and say that those experiences actually reflected me? 

most of the characters are continental africans, n’jadaka is first generation american and his american mother is of so little importance that she’s not named or seen on screen at all period. his whole motivation as a child of the diaspora is to feel connected to this place that rejected him and his father and to destroy that place on a fundamental level. the other assumingly black american woman that’s his girlfriend has like no lines and is unceremoniously shot by him. while i get that black people sympathized with n’jadaka really nakia was the black liberation narrative that we needed. and if n’jadaka was meant to be the voice of the diaspora i feel like... it flopped? and no line about wanting to be buried at sea changes that. if anything i feel like it’s lowkey insulting to the africans that did make it to the americas/caribbean and endured slavery and created such diverse and enduring cultures. maybe that’s just me, but i find it insulting. maybe i’m reaching. i don’t know. 

the more stereotypical hood aspects of n’jadaka’s character are constantly presented on screen as a signifier of his antagonist status [ the same with andy serkis tbh... shoutout to gangster stereotypes there.... at least he dies. ] but the only time we really see the side that agent ross says is him being the best at destabilizing government is when he burns the flowers. like i guess you could say when he throws t’chala off the cliff, but like... eh. it doesn’t help that wakandan government to the movie going audience is loosely established before we get the nice shot of the throne upside down and all that. like eh. it didn’t feel all that well rounded to me in retrospect.

he also was deadass about to kill shuri so like no matter what i wasn’t going to like this man.

and again n’jadaka was the only black american in the movie and so like... that was the only black american rep it had. and it was all trash.

but also n’jadaka being the only sympathetic antagonist that’s dead and is human and won’t be back is also trash. like bucky and loki have had really great arcs but n’jadaka won’t get that is again trash. even if he was trash. like stop. 

sidenoting the fact that movie wants you to cheer for agent ross’s white cia ass as he shoots down ships piloted by africans to aid oppressed black people world wide is lowkey gross in a big picture way. now if you want to talk about the proliferation of dangerous weapons in general that’s fine. if you want to have a discussion about how armed revolution might not be the best solution that’s fine. if you want to talk about how these dangerous weapons could end up in the hands of criminal organizations even that’s fine. but agent ross being the bitch to do it, that’s not so fine.

like in that moment i guess he’s not technically operating as an extension of the united states government, and given the shit that the cia has done this isn’t a stretch. but it’s an odd thing to get people to cheer for. i’m not saying it’s wrong. or right. it has me feeling all kinds of way.

all the people piloting those ships were doing what their kind told them to do. i guess t’chala appeared right before they took off. or right after. it was in a grey zone, and that doesn’t absolve them from the potential damage that could have been done. but it furthers this narrative that 99% of the people that wanted to help oppressed black people had to die in the narrative, some by a literal white man.

nakia is the only one to survive. which is chill because i fuck with her and she got t’chala to see that she was right. or whatever and that’s good. but still.

this is a superhero movie, and like i get that regular wakandans aren’t going to the focus. but this movie does make you wonder what the fuck was going on with the people in the city that nakia and t’chala walked through. at the end of the movie only the border tribe was at war with the dora milaje so where the citizens of the city just like chill? were they confused? did they join the border tribe? how far away is the mountain if the jabari can be at the battle like five minutes after it starts? like. so many things that obviously weren’t going to be addressed but a bitch can be petty.

again, just to be a repetitive bitch, the only people that died on screen were americans. two of which were oppressed black americans trying to rise up. one of which was literally killed by a prince who had done nothing in his entire thirty years of existence to help oppressed black people until he murdered his cousin and lost his privlege by nearly dying.

so um yeah. t’chala is lowkey the bad guy.

also t’chala solution at the end of the movie feels like... it’s such a nonresolution? 

and only after killing people that also wanted to let the world use these same resources to liberate black people the way you are now. and not even just oppressed black people, but even the imperialist colonizers will have access to the resources and technological advancements that literally five seconds ago you were having people killed to stop them from being distributed.

okay susan.

[bolontiku]

*not my image*

Avengers A/U

‘Homeless’

Part 4

Summary: you work for Stark ent. Tony finds out you are homeless. You wake up in bed after Bucky and Steve picked you up after confronting your ex.

***

Strong arms pulled you deeper into the covers, you squeaked as a face burrowed into the crook of your neck.

“Shh, your okay go back to sleep.” came Steves gruff voice.

A small yelp escaped as one of his long muscular legs snaked between yours and he brought it up and so close you froze. “S-Steve?”

He sighed, “hmmm?”

“What happened? How did we get back here? Is this your bed?” you asked feeling a bit embarressed.

Steve grumbled and finally pulled away from you. He smiled at you, “your really good at cuddling.”

“Oh my god! Harry!” you sat up as best you could, his legs were still entwined with yours.

“Hey!” Steve pulled you back down as you raised a hand to your forehead feeling a bit lightheaded. “Look, just stay laying here. You dont need to worry about him at all. And dont answer his phone calls anymore. As a matter of fact i think Nat is good at blocking people, then again it may be she kills them…” he added as afterthought.

“What?!” you asked a small giggle escaping as you laid back down and stared up at him. He was still so much taller than you, so you wiggled till you were eye level with him. “How did-never mind. Haha Mr.Stark tracked the GPS in my phone?” he smiled nodding at you. “But why?”

“Why? We know a few things about that guy and couldnt leave you alone with him, plus everything he said was complete crap.”

He let out a huff of breath before reaching over and gently brushing a strand of y/c/h from your face, “don’t let what he said get to you. If it was at all true you have to ask-why would he be so desperate to get you back?” he rested his hand against your cheek for a moment, his blue eyes seeming to stare straight into you.

You looked down, his stare too much for you to hold and felt a weight in your stomach as you remembered that afternoon. “I fainted?”

“The doctor said it was a panic attack,“ he answered. Your stomach grumbled loudly causing him to chuckle. “I think we should get something in you…”

You felt a blush cross your face as the implication crossed your mind quickly and nodded as he untangled himself from you. A small pout presented itself as his body heat left you leaving you slightly cold.

Steve smirked, ‘so cute!’ he thought before pulling himself from the bed and holding his hand out to you.

You let him pull you out of the bed with seemingly little effort. ‘Duh, hes Captain America,’ you thought as his strong arm wrapped around your waist to steady you. You looked up at him, “thanks.”

Steve nodded as he led you out of the room. You smiled broadly as there on the couch sitting and seemingly waiting on you two were Nat, Bucky, and Tony. Who all looked up at you a small cheer coming from them.

Steve felt a pang of jealousy as Nat swept you out of his arms and led you to the couch, a knowing look crossed between them. Bucky smirked at him and punched him on the shoulder.

“Lets make her something to eat pal,” he chuckled running a hand through his dark hair.

“No! You dont have to, I can make something for myself,” your stomach grumbled again and you crossed your hands across it trying to stifle the sounds.

Tony laughed, “girl after my own heart! Let them cook, Steve loves cooking anyhow!” Tony said wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You looked over your shoulder at Steve before Tony pulled you down onto the couch, “Mr. Stark-”

“Come on now! Call me Tony! How are you feeling?” he asked as Nat sat beside you.

“Uh, im feeling better. T-thank you,” you stuttered. “Oh, no! I didnt even get around to grocery shopping yesterday!” you realized.

Nat took your hands in hers. “That doesnt matter, food ‘magically appears here at Stark tower. Besides that, I am so sorry i wasnt able to be there! I was away on a mission, though from what Steve tells me Bucky did rough him up.”

You looked over at them with wide eyes. Bucky sported a broad smile. “Really?!”

He nodded, “I couldnt let him talk all that crap about my best friends girl.”

Steve jerked his gaze from the cutting board to Bucky who laughed heartily. You blushed furiously as Nat and Tony chuckled. “Now I might have to fight you for her Steve,” Tony said pulling you so close to him you nearly were sitting in his lap.

You squirmed in his grasp missing the look on Steves face as he nearly cut through the board with the knife. “T-Tony!” you squeaked feeling unsure if you could call your boss that while pulling away from him. “I wanted to thank you, for coming to get me, both of you two.” you added looking over at Steve and Bucky.

“Well, no problem there. You’ve kinda grown on us,“ he smiled as he stood swooping down to peck you on the cheek. “I have to go for now. You know business and whatnot. See you guys around. Steve? Make sure y/n doesnt do anything too strenuous for the next three days, you heard the doctor.”

“Three days?! But i have work!” you cried trying to stand, wobbling as vertigo hit you making you sit down hard.

Tony fixed a stern look at you, “now what kind of friend would i be if i didnt let you have certain perks since im your boss?” with that he winked at you and disappeared out the door.

Nat sat back patting your knee. “Lets let the boys cook for us, yeah? We will watch a movie.”

***

@nanie5

@shamvictoria11

@the-great-irene @absessive

[trendingnewsb]

MIA: This is a white country, you dont have to spell it out to me

Maya Arulpragasam is bringing dancehall, hip-hop and grime to this years Meltdown. Is the outspoken British Sri Lankan the best argument for positive cultural appropriation?

The Guardian said that you couldnt shag to my record. As conversational openers go, MIAs beats the banal niceties of, say, Hello, how are you doing?. Its no surprise that she charges straight into a chat about why her last album was considered too confrontational for the bedroom by this paper. Its an icebreaker moulded to MIAs very own design: abrasive, compelling, underpinned by sex. Yeah, she finally concedes with a grin when I suggest we move past it, you cant have it all, can you?

Its a theme she warms up to when we talk about her edition of Meltdown at the Southbank Centre, which were ostensibly here to discuss. Usually, I wouldnt do something like this, she says, slouched under an oversized khaki coat dress. [But the organisers] were like: Hey, you can do whatever you want. Still, putting on the South Banks annual festival, curated in previous years by the likes of David Bowie, David Byrne and Patti Smith, has turned out to be a fairly arduous affair for MIA who says she doesnt do computers at the moment.

They didnt tell me it was nine days long. I thought it was a weekend. And then all my lists were, like, Well, this person wont be in London and that person is doing Glastonbury. Organising festivals is actually really complicated, she stresses. It wasnt just about dreaming something and then it appeared. Programming literally means, like, programming.

For all that Maya Arulpragasam didnt quite know what she was letting herself in for, one suspects the Southbank Centre didnt either; logistics aside, the mornings photoshoot has already been met with some flapping from the press officer made nervous by MIA climbing on the roof without safety clearance. Still, her lineup dancehall, Brooklyn hip-hop, depressive Swedish rap and Nigerian grime is perhaps the most underground the festival has seen in its 24 years. How much is she expecting to shake up its comfortable concert halls, cafe bars and conference-room spaces?

Click here to watch the video for last years Go Off.

When I was a teenager in London, I would just get a Travelcard and go somewhere, explore the city and go to weird places, she says. I would never judge the place, like, This is middle class and white. This is a white country, you dont have to spell it out to me, but there wasnt ever a limit on where I could go or what I could do.

A long, elliptical digression on London then and now follows, which takes in the optimistic multiculturalism of the 90s, Tamil house parties, empire and British identity. Its the bento box of an MIA interview: individually contained ideas that dont obviously bleed into one another and yet, overall, make a collective sense if youre prepared to go with it. Thats the key thing about MIA: you have to be willing to go with her to properly get her. Given that she still looks and sounds like a beautiful, bratty, art-school upstart and is prone to labyrinthine tangents, its easy to portray her as inarticulate or unhinged. But MIAs intelligence is instinctive rather than intellectual, and fuelled by the political.

The Mehrabian maxim that reckons that only 7% of communication is verbal is one that might best be proven by the transcript of a chat with MIA removed of all tone, attitude, context and body language. Take, for instance, her explanation of why only the future remains relevant:

As humans, we dont use our past and our history to work out the importance of what our role is in the present, she says. And if you cant use the past to define your present, then it should not be an element that holds back the future. Greece is a perfect example. More than Britain, they were brought to their knees, and not a single white country thought about saving them. And it was part of their heritage. Its where their mythology comes from or their concept of capitalism and democracy comes from. Nobody cared, everybody cared about the modern. Right?

Kim Kardashian is actually more powerful than Greece. She has more money than the whole of Greece, she continues. Therefore, thats where the power lies. If you then define it that way, then you kind of just have to live with that. And maybe whats happening in modern society: that if youre going to judge it by that, then other countries are gonna come in and define the future.

In print, its a statement that seems lacking in logic and coherence. In the moment, Im fairly sure Im able to follow her and we go on to consider how and where this future is being defined (for the record: You cant ignore the fact that China is going to be doing their thing in the next 50 years) and how Arulpragasam believes the immigration issue has become a red herring covering up a truth that can explain the American and British swing to conservative populism.

With Brexit, the idea was to get away from Europe and reinvent our identity, she says. And really, that identity was going to be American, but then they gave us Trump! So, everyone now is like, Oh shit, what is Britain? Are we going to rewind back to the 1800s? We cant. Its too late for that. So, going forward, we need a charismatic leader who then va va vooms the British identity. And we dont have that either.

People thinking that Im a bitch is totally unwarranted … MIA. Photograph: Stephanie Sian Smith/The Guide

The prime minister has called a snap election on the day we meet. Does MIA have any faith in our political system? Or in the left?

Everyone keeps going, Corbyn cant do this, but its, like, well, who else is there? she says. If people just left him alone to actually do the job and actually gave him some support, maybe hed be different. Treating him with so much contempt fighting that takes all his energy. How the fuck do you expect him to do interesting things? In any case insists the estranged daughter of a Tamil revolutionary, politicians are people who couldnt get jobs somewhere else.

MIAs politics, unwieldy and unslick though they may be, have often made her an easy target for tedious sneering in the press; the most insistent narrative is that, like Banksy, shes big on arch, subversive statement but lacks substance. Or that she is a hypocrite for making herself the poster girl for the worlds most marginalised people. And yet, shes one of the best pop stars Britain has ever produced. For all the ear-clanging experimentation of her five albums, MIA has always kept a sleeve full of pop bangers Bucky Done Gun, Paper Planes, Bad Girls, Finally that have sounded like little that came before or since her. Even if she didnt have the tunes, here is an art-school refugee Sri Lankan single mother with a visual aesthetic co-opted by everyone from Vetements to Versace who was born into political rebellion and revels in controversy. Gleefully gauche and carefree, MIA is the best argument for when cultural appropriation works. Bland singer-songstress beloved of Radio 2 playlists she isnt. So how much has the criticism bothered her?

People thinking that Im a bitch is totally unwarranted because Im not, she ays. I just had to fight for shit, and I still do. I just dont care any more. I dont know. She stops and starts. What I deal with as an artist, the media, the public persona, its a walk in the fucking park, compared to how confusing the universe really fucking is. Theres so much beauty in it and theres so much mystery, theres so much confusing shit in it. That is way more interesting to think about than why, like, Patricia hates me. You know what I mean? I laugh. Its like, Who the fuck is Patricia? and How can Patricia say this shit about me?. It just does not matter to me at all.As it is, she says shes most preoccupied with how to be a functioning grown up, an adult and a mother to an eight-year-old son (whose father Benjamin Bronfman is son to the billionaire heir of the Seagram fortune) born into immense privilege.

When the war came to an end in Sri Lanka in 2009, it actually did affect me, she explains. Everyone was, like, What the fuck does she know? Shes, like, a pop star, but that was my life. It was 50% of who I was, it was my identity. I didnt know what to do with myself. So I had a kid. Its the year the cause died, but the year my personal cause my son was born. And then, OK, I have to figure out what to do in very small parameters: I have a son, how is he going to see his grandma, am I going to make it there on Saturday? Can I make sure that I dont mess up his head by being depressed about certain things?

She struggles to reconcile her upbringing poor and living in Sri Lanka for her childhood to poor and living on a council estate in Mitcham, south London, in her adolescence with her sons. Im not very straightforward as an immigrant. That whole My kids would never see the pain that I saw; Im not like that. Im totally up for reintroducing him to the pain. I dont have any qualms about that. Her problems havent changed, she says, because of money or better circumstances. Whether Im in a mansion or a council flat, I would feel the same anxiety waking up going: I need to write this thing in a scrapbook, wheres my notepad? I would still have all those problems. I might still overcook the fish fingers. Those things are not going to magically transform because your house has changed. At the beginning I thought that money couldve saved my family. Very quickly I realised that money is not the thing.

Her conflict in wanting to being huge and commercial versus credible and ahead of the curve has been a persistent tension threaded through MIAs career. When I got into the music game, it was never an option to shut up and make lots of money. she says. To be a huge pop star, I would have to be, like, Yes, I think bombing Afghanistan was a great idea, I love our democracy and what it has achieved. I love the American flag and Im going to make a jumpsuit out of it. I just think it was important to have all of those Arab Springs, and its great and lets drink Coca-Cola. I had to do that, and do it all in a thong. Could I have done that if it meant that my mum had the nicest house in Chiswick by the river?

Click here to se the video for MIAs Bad Girls.

Does she worry about money now? If youre preaching living within your means, you have to, to some extent. But I also know that if youre someone in society that speaks out about injustice or political issues, one of the things that happens is that you get economically punished, 100%. I take that hit all the time.

The most recent, obvious example was MIA being forced to quit her headline slot at Afropunk last year, following a contentious quote in which she asked in an interview why Beyonc and Kendrick Lamar might not discuss why Muslim lives matter or Syrian lives matter. I dont regret [raising the issue], she says, with triumphant chutzpah. You saw how bad it was. And the Muslim ban didnt happen just with Trump, it was already happening under Obama. But you couldnt say that about him, you couldnt say that he introduced the Muslim ban, or banned seven different countries, or was already monitoring people, or dropped more bombs than Trump has. In truth, Obamas administration did identify the seven countries on Trumps list for additional screening measures, but it didnt bar their nationals. Shes already skipped ahead. The quantity of damage cant be quantified right now, she insists. Well have to wait the four years. After eight years of Obama, we kind of knew [his failings], but we just werent allowed to say them because he was so great. He was better than any person in Hollywood that I wouldve watched. He was really likable and just had loads of swag. That doesnt mean that you have to deny the truth, though.

This (and much more) comes moments after she tells me she has no time for opinions these days. She claims she doesnt read the news any more and that her primary sources for information are customers at the local kebab shop, taxi drivers and then sort of figuring it out. What about the state of the world? MIAs moment as an agitprop pop activist has never seemed more potent. Politics? I have no time for these things because Im so stuck in the zone. Ive become a hermit. [Meltdown] is actually giving me the chance to actually go out and meet people again. Ive gone for weeks without talking to a person, I do that happily. I tell her I dont believe her, as I suspect it would be a recipe for her to go fully barmy.

Im actually quite an extreme person, so I dont see that as madness. I see that as, like, solitude, doing a phase of solitude is not that bad. After declaring her fifth album AIM to be her final one, shes also trying to find new ways to channel her creativity. Im trying to write a film. I havent stepped into it yet because I want it to be good. Once you hit the start button you cant really stop it. She has, she tells me, the added complication of ADD to contend with. When was that diagnosed? I just have it. Dont even need diagnosis, its a waste of time, its a waste of the NHS. In truly blithe MIA style, she adds: Its just when you have too many ideas and not enough ways to get them out.

MIAs Meltdown is at the Southbank Centre, SE1, 9-18 June

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