#mcu iamgine

[callsign-swan]

bob reynolds wasn't a good werewolf.

but, odie, how can he be a bad werewolf?

bob reynolds hasn't changed. he's, what, late twenties? early thirties? and he hasn't changed. even with the full moon, he hasn't changed. it must've been frustrating for his body, to be unable to obey its instincts, to let him become the beast.

there was a lot of things he could blame for his stunted... werewolf-i-ness. but that's a story for another day.

yelena takes it upon herself to train him up. not the kind of training valentina wants him doing, but something she knows would help bob. it must've been so frustrating for him, to be stuck in a human body at all time. it was like she could see it, his wolf clawing to get out.

it took a while, longer than yelena thought. she had to teach herself after the red room, try to teach herself something the red room had tried to suppress. but it was almost like bob himself was trying to suppress it. like, no matter his frustration, he couldn't bring himself to change.

yelena taught him to let go, to let himself change. at first, it was him getting stuck with too big teeth, glowing yellow eyes and claws for nails. pointed ears that seemed furry at the top. but yelena helped him fixed it and got him to try it again.

and again.

and again.

until he came the wolf.

she didn't know what she expected when he changed. maybe a simple grey, maybe brown like his hair. but not black, fur so dark he was midnight.

as soon as they changed, yelena took him running. running through the streets of new york under the cover of night. bob kept his nose to the ground, discovering every new smell around him.

his paws were too big for his body, but it looked so right on him.

yelena led him through the backstreets and alleyways. even at 2am, they were staying hidden, staying safe.

but bob caught a sent. he tried to keep following yelena, he really did, but his nose led him away from her.

his nose led him to a back alley. bins on one side, buildings on the other he kept sniffing, trying to find the source of the scent. he couldn't describe it, couldn't work out why it was so enticing. but here he was, sniffing around the bins to try and work it out.

the back door to one of the buildings opened. he shied behind the bin as light flooded the back alley.

even though he was hidden, bob still watched. he watched as you stepped out of the building, black bag in hands. you held it just off the floor, as if it was heavy but you didn't want to drag it. made sense, by the smell of it.

you opened the lid of the big bin, threw it back so that it hit the fence behind it. with a grunt, you lifted the bag and threw it into the bin.

the gross, overwhelming scent was drowned out. by you, bob realised as you shut the lid of the bin.

bob didn't mean to step out as you turned to walk back towards your place of business. (a cafe. the bin stank of food and coffee grounds). but you caught sight of him, out of the corner of your eye.

a gasp left your lips as you stepped away from him. the scent bob was getting from you turned sour with your fear. you backed away from him, shaking hands raised.

in your mind, it was already too late to run. the moment you turned and tried, he would be upon you, teeth ripping into your ankles.

but you caught yourself on your untied laces. your gasp sounded more like a hiccup as you fell back. you barely registered your ass hitting the gravel, shuffling back until you hit the back door of your cafe.

even in such a vulnerable position, the wolf stared at you. fur so damn dark, you only saw his glowing eyes at first. he continued to watch you, sat there like a damn dog.

no growling, no snarling. he just stared, just watched you.

internally, bob was panicking. you had seen him, you were panicking, and he didn't know how to fix it.

so, he ran.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request something with the Void and Bob (reader is dating both) where it’s little moments where they make reader feel safe?

i started with the idea of doing small hdc type things, only to keep writing and writing to the point where you'll only get one massive moment where Bob/Void made reader/you felt safe.

You couldn't sleep and no matter how hard you tried your mind would always be too loud to ignore, too present and awake at the early hours of the morning to be silenced, yet you didn't like being alone with your mind which is why you were stood at Bob's door in selfish hopes that he too might be awake.

You felt bad wishing that your sweet Bob was also suffering from a sleepless night out of sheer greediness for no wanting to suffer alone, much rather doing it with the one person whom you've only ever felt your truests in the presence of, the one who you could only ever feel safest without having to try. A beautiful soul of a man so open minded and nonjudemental that admitting to the wildest and darkest thing you've ever done did nothing to waver his love for you, for he still looked at you like you had hung the stars yourself against the nightsky you handpainted.

Thankfully you didn't have to do much other then breathed it seemed for the door in front of you to open, revealing a dishelved looking Bob, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater as he fights back a yawn. Even when he's half asleep and probably wanting nothing more then to go to bed and at least catch some sleep, Bob still made the active decision to open up his door further the second he caught the look upon your face, knowing the look within your eyes better then you did as he was pretty certain that was how he looked when he came to you in help for better sleep.

'i'm sorry.' you started but Bob was quick shut down any and all guilt you might feel just becuase you were in need of company, even if it was in the early hours of the morning, for you had stopped him multiple times for apologising over for the smallest things and now he would do the same for you in your time of need. 'Don't. You don't ever have to appologise for coming to me, it's why i left my door slightly ajar every night in case you ever needed me, i'm always there.' He tells you and you couldn't have felt sillier in forgetting such a simple thing that Bob always did, leaving his door ajar just for you when the nights got too long for you.

Bob could tell that you were condeming yourself for forgetting and instead only presses a gentle hand to your lower wasit while guiding you to his bed, waiting paitiently as you made yourself comfortable under the covers before joining you, bringing you into his arms until you were cuddled so tightly against him to the point where you couldn't tell where Bob started and you finshed. His warmth immeditely made your mind realise that you were in the presence of safety, a calm and warmth that so rarely few people had but Bob had in abundence, making your body relax as your fingers fiddle with the collar of his sweater and lightly grazing his collar bone while doing so.

'Want to talk to me about what's keep you up.' Bob asks softly, rubbing your back soothingly as he allowed you to take your time in gathering your thoughts, allowing you the paitience that wouldn't have been given you elsewhere.

'Mind was too loud, had to get to you.' You tell him as though it was simple, as if there was no possible solution for you to seek comfort and reprieve in or from.

'i'm here. you got to me.' Bob reassured you, kissing your forehead softly, feeling you melt into his act of affection, finding comfort in it and feeling a sense of saftey that you seemingly only find with Bob and only Bob. 'You got to me.' He echoed once more as though to really bring the point home that you were where you needed the most, where you could bring yourself back to reality with Bob and not have to worry about anything of substance when you were within Bob's arms, feeling that he was very much real and right in front of you instead of a dream like you often times thought he was.

'i got you, and with you i'm where i'm at safest.' You said, kissing the side of his neck, close to where you could easily access with ease. 'The safest i've ever been in my entire life even.' You add and you weren't lying -not in the slightest- as you couldn't remeber feeling as invincible and untouchable as you did now within Bob's arms or his room in general. It felt like home to you, from the book shelves lined with well loved and warn books that were treated with respect, the bean chairs, weighted blankets and plushies and even the pictures that could be seen in photo frames scattered here and there; There was even clothes that you've left on more then one occasion to the point Bob had made a section for your stuff in his wardrobe for moments like these.

The room felt lived and loved in and the man you were cuddled up tightly with only made you feel seen and understood, and for that Bob made you feel so safe that soon enough your mind was silent enough for you to fall back to sleep, burrowing yourself deeper into Bob as he tightened his hold on you in response as he too fell into a welcomingly deep sleep.

void -

The mission had gone wrong, really wrong, when or how you weren't quite sure as everything had happened so fast, too fast even for you to recall any vital details that could've given you clues as to how things had become sour so quickly. Yet you found yourself cornered and at aloss of what to do, mind going a million miles an hour as you realised you were slowly becoming a cornered animal, a hurt cornered animal as you could see from the corner of your eyes the small group of crooks were closing in on you rather quickly; leaving you with a time gap that only seemed to have grown increasingly smaller an threatens to shut on you the longer you heistate.

You had no clue where John, Ava, Yelena nor Alexei were, having all been split up the second you had touched down, thinking this mission to be a simple in and out job. However now things have grown more and more complicated and this deadend you had ran into felt more like a sign to you that things were only going to go from bad to worse, the wound on your side was on fire and your ankle was proven an issue when trying to come up with an escape plan, the metophorical wrench that was thrown in to be an additional obsticle of your already growing pile of them that only seemed to tower over you.

Attempts of trying to calm yourslef were all for naught, your mind had already accepted that there wasn't much hope for you in getting out, no hope in making it far enough to make a differance or a chance encouter with another of your teammates. You were willing to put up a fight knowing that it might be your last, knowing that you might not see the end of this mission, forced to be okay with dying here without a single complaint and letting go of the last ounce of adrenaline exited your exhausted and pained body.

You tightened your grip on your weapon, eyes trained forward at the enemy infront of you with the intention of taking at least a good couple of them down with you, at least show signs that you did at least try instead of laying down and dying so eaily. Only the fact that you didn't need to as the lightbulb within the distant hallway flickered before being snuffed out by an inky black darkness, the darkness that seemed to want nothing more then to rid the hallway of it's light as you were soon to realise that the goons that were so close had now seem to be nowhere in sight, only silence and a creeping cold that would warrent you to be weary but not so when this cold and silence were common factors for when you knew Void was nearby.

He had somehow knew you were here, he must've for who else whould he have came for? Certainly not John, or Ava or Yelena and not once would he give Alexei much thought to save and risk appearing like he has as of this moment. The logistics as to how didn't seem all that important as you could see one of the goons looking frightened came into view, gun held tight to their chest and unloading their clip into this unseen entity, which from what you could tell from their face did nothing to cause injury as frustraightion grew within them; yet within a blink of an eye the goon was nothing more then a inky black stain on the floor.

A shadow that looked as though it had been smeared across the floor, like someone's charcoal artwork had gone array.

'Void.' You made eye contact with the two pinprick eyes that peered back at you, twinkling like two lonely stars adrift in the night. He had appeared before you within a blink of an eye, silent and observing of your current perdicament, but you could easily feel the undertones of rage and revenge bubbiling beneath the cold compsure he exuded. 'you came.' you said elated, smiling at the shadowy entity as though there was no one else you'd be looking at with such reverence and relief.

'You called. i always come when you call.' He replied but continued to talk when your confusion was obvious, 'You don't need to say my name for me to know it's you calling. i can just feel you reaching out to me subconciously, so filled with fright that you try to conceal with momentairly bravery, and here i am to deal with the vermin that threatned my walking daydream's life.' He concludes as he offers you his hand of which you were quick to grab onto, allowing him to take you into his arms as you were quick to burry your head into his neck, wanting to take off your mind from almsot dying to how you felt within Void's arms as you shut your eyes tightly as Void's presense brought you safety.

'i was so scared.' You admitted to him, feeling one of his hands cup the back of your neck, massaging it almost like he was trying to have you focus on something else.

'i know.' He replied.

'i thought i was going to die.' you kept going, mouth on autopilot.

'i would never allow you to be brought before such a fate.' Void said it like it was a promise he meant with full intention to keep.

'Then you came.' You tightned your hold on Void, memorising how he fit perfectly agaisnt you as though he was made with the intention of being yours. 'then you came.' You whispered to yourself this time, almost as if trying to convince yourself that this was real, that he was really here with you, but from the way he kept a firm hold on your waist and his breathing were more then enough to convince you he was real. 'you're real.' you concluded.

Void only presses a kiss to the top of your head, letting you seek closure and saftey with the shadow that made him up, find reassurance in the darkness that lingered in each corner of the room and finding solace knowing he was there within arms distance. For you Void would never be too far out of reach, your second shadow he'd become if it meant keeping you safe and far from harms way, content in your silent acknowledgement of this fact yourself but never verbally saying it; You knew as well as he that you'll always find safety in the dark, in the whispers heard amongst the wind that spoke of his forthcoming.

You had a shadowy entity of unspeakable power who was more then willing to keep you within those very shadows to protect you, not that you'd fight against it as with Void his saftey wasn't a threat but more of an heavy insitance, a firm reminder that he'll snuff out all of the light in order to be yours.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Her Turn Now - 2

Character: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Twin sisters. Opposite worlds. The eldest is a tough, no-nonsense soldier. The youngest is a quiet, hardworking corporate girl. They rarely meet—until the younger sister collapses from stress, hiding months of workplace bullying.

Furious and protective, the soldier twin trades places with her. Heels off, boots on. Now, the office has no idea what's coming.

She doesn’t play nice. She doesn’t play fair. And while she's serving justice in a pencil skirt, the ruthless CEO starts to take notice…

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , -

Working in an office really doesn't suit you.

In battle, things are simple. When someone annoys you, you shut them up—with a fist or a boot to the face. Problem solved. But here?

Here, you’re surrounded by high heels, fake smiles, and the sharp click-clack of keyboards... and every single sound grates your nerves.

You grit your teeth, nails tapping against the desk, fists clenched under the table just to stop yourself from punching someone in the throat. You’ve only been here two hours, and already, you’re planning five different ways to commit corporate homicide.

Your respect for Levi just skyrocketed. Eight months she endured this hell? You can barely last one morning.

'Should you? Yes, you can.' 'Lock the door. Grab the stapler. Use the pencil. There are weapons everywhere.'

That little voice in your head sounds far too convincing. If it were the real you—Captain McCain—you’d be halfway through your rampage by now. But no. You're Levi now.

And if Levi McCain loses her cool? That delicate record she’s worked so hard to build will shatter.

Just then, a thick stack of papers lands on your desk with a loud thwack. You glance up. Some guy—you don’t even know his name—doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking like you’re invisible.

"What the hell is this?" you mutter under your breath.

Another assignment. Charts. Reports. Forecast analysis? You squint at the spreadsheet like it’s in another language. Honestly, it might as well be.

They're piling it on, testing you. You've been here two hours, and already they’ve dumped more work on your desk than a full week’s load.

You inhale slowly. Count to five. Calm. You’re supposed to be Levi. Quiet. Polite. Fragile. Yeah, right.

But you didn’t come into this unarmed. Oh no. You came with a secret weapon.

Thanks to Casey.

The night before your little infiltration mission, she handed you a sleek tablet loaded with a custom AI system she’s been tinkering with.

"You’re a genius in combat, boss. Not in spreadsheets," she said with a smirk. "I built this so you can focus on wrecking those bastards emotionally instead."

So while everyone else thinks you’re slaving over numbers, you're calmly sipping your coffee and letting Casey’s AI handle the data analysis.

Now, with zero hesitation, you lift the freshly completed reports and toss them right back at the guy’s desk with a smooth flick of your wrist.

He freezes, staring at the documents like you just performed black magic.

Around the office, heads start turning. Whispers ripple through the floor like electricity.

'How did she finish that so fast?' 'Wasn’t that supposed to take a day?' 'Did she make any mistakes?'

You lean back in your chair, legs crossed, eyes sharp. You don’t say a word. Just stare at them all like a predator in disguise.

Let them wonder. Let them whisper.

You’re just getting started.

You weren’t made for this world of polite requests and passive-aggressive comments—and you’re done pretending.

When someone dumps files on your desk and tells you to print them, you don’t even look up.

“Do it yourself. The printer’s right on your table.”

Another, bolder one strolls over, holding out a coffee order list.

“Buy some for the team, will you? Get that caramel thing we like.”

You raise a brow and don’t even break stride as you type, voice flat and sharp.

“Try Uber Eats. Or your own damn legs.”

They blink, stunned, as you go back to work like the conversation never happened.

Lunch hour can’t come fast enough. You head down to the building’s park—if you don’t get some air, you might actually kill someone.

You sit on the bench, arms crossed, legs tense. The sun is warm, but your mood is ice. Your jaw still clenched tight.

Then you hear it—laughter.

Voices carry across the grass. Familiar ones.

You glance to your left.

A group of men are huddled in the smoking area—coworkers from your department. Laughing, puffing away, basking in their own stink. You recognize the manager too.

You stay still. Listen.

One of them exhales smoke and scoffs.

“Can’t believe Levi came in today. What’s she trying to prove, showing up now?”

Another snickers.

“Yeah, like she belongs at the celebration. After everything? Please.”

The manager—Levi’s direct boss—chimes in, laughing low and mean.

“She probably thought we’d be happy to see her. Delusional.”

The first guy adds, “Well, no one tell her where we’re going tonight, alright?”

Another laughs. “As if she’s invited. The restaurant doesn’t take extras anyway.”

And then—what finally makes your blood boil—

“If she hadn’t flagged that budget error last quarter, we’d have had bigger bonuses. What a buzzkill. Should’ve just kept her mouth shut.”

Silence hits your chest like a gut punch.

Your hands ball into fists on your lap.

So that’s how they talk about her. About Levi. After all her quiet effort. Her eight months of biting her tongue, holding back, working herself into the ground.

You don’t move. You don’t breathe. You sit there until they finish their smokes and saunter off, laughing like nothing happened.

When they’re gone, you finally exhale—and realize your hands are trembling. One still clutches your phone.

You hit speed dial.

“Yeah, boss?” Casey answers, casual as always.

You look up at the sky. Your voice is calm. Too calm.

“Prepare a runaway car. Gloves. Face mask. And night vision goggles.”

Casey pauses.

“…Do you need a lawyer too?”

You let out a slow breath.

“I don’t think I’ll need it. But yeah, just in case.”

You hang up.

No more playing nice.

They wanted Levi to stay quiet. Big mistake. They got you instead.

💥💥💥💥

The restaurant was packed—but only with them. Levi’s entire department had booked the place for a night of fake smiles and undeserved celebration. Laughter rang loud. Glasses clinked. Wine flowed freely.

The manager, drunk on his own ego, stood up and raised his glass. “To us—the real backbone of this company!”

Cheers followed. Forced. Loud. Hollow.

Then— Darkness.

The lights went out without warning.

A beat of silence. Confused murmurs.

“Probably just for a while,” someone said, chuckling nervously.

Then— “Uhk!”

A rough, strangled sound.

“Sounded like a duck getting choked,” the manager joked, and the room erupted in laughter.

But the laughter didn’t last.

It was replaced by chaos.

A chair crashed to the floor. A plate shattered. A man screamed. Another was silenced mid-sentence by a punch to the gut.

One by one, they dropped.

No warning. No mercy. Male. Female. Coworker. Manager. None of them were spared.

They didn’t even see who hit them.

Fists, elbows, knees—precise and brutal. The air filled with the sound of bodies slamming into tables, glass crunching beneath shoes, and groans of disbelief.

The manager took the worst of it. A swift kick to the chest sent him straight into the dessert table. A metal tray slammed across his face. His hands scrambled for cover that didn’t exist.

By the end, the room was wrecked. People groaned and whimpered in the dark, crawling, gasping, too stunned to react.

Only one person walked out untouched.

Calm steps. Back straight. Breath steady. No fear. No remorse.

As you stepped past the broken chaos, your thoughts were razor-sharp.

'Karma takes her sweet time… So I gave her a hand.'

🏢🏢🏢🏢

The Next Morning

A sleek black sedan sat idling on the curb. The tinted windows reflected the city skyline, but inside, the air was tense.

In the back seat, Bucky Barnes—CEO, sharp-suited and sharp-jawed—sat in silence. His dark eyes were unreadable as he glanced out the window. His posture was relaxed, but his fingers drummed lightly against his thigh. A storm brewed behind that calm exterior.

“I thought you were joking when you called me,” Bucky finally said, voice low and cool.

He had just landed from London, where he’d been in talks with a major international partner. The time difference and chaos hadn’t fazed him—what did was the reason for the call.

Kyle, his vice president, sat beside him. Unlike Bucky, Kyle looked restless, flicking through files on his tablet.

“I wish it was a joke,” Kyle muttered. “But it’s real.”

Bucky scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning back. “If it is, then good.”

Kyle blinked. “Good? You’re joking, right? Twenty-nine people were admitted to the hospital last night.”

Bucky’s gaze didn’t waver. “Good. I've been trying to clean out that bloodsucking department for years. They're toxic, slow, and arrogant. Half of them think they run this company. Maybe now they'll shut up.”

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh god...”

Bucky raised a brow. “There were supposed to be thirty people, including the intern. Why is the count only twenty-nine?”

“One of them didn’t show up,” Kyle replied, swiping through his screen. “Or maybe she wasn’t invited. Probably the same one they suspected was being bullied.”

At that, Bucky’s face tightened.

“The bullied one?” His voice dropped, low and sharp. “And no one thought to warn me?”

Kyle nodded. “Yes. That’s what I was told.”

Bucky leaned forward, jaw clenched. “I’ve been asking H.R. for weeks for an update. They keep giving me the runaround. I don’t even know her name!”

“She canceled her statement,” Kyle said, tapping his tablet. “But this is the person who filed with H.R. before backing out.”

He handed Bucky the screen.

Bucky took one look at the photo—and froze.

His face went still. No words. Just quiet, cold fury building behind his eyes. His hand gripped the tablet a little too tightly.

Kyle watched carefully. “You okay?”

Bucky didn’t answer.

He just kept staring at the photo.

And in that silence, the air inside the car grew heavier.

He wasn’t just angry.

He was about to get involved.

🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢

Back at the office, you were the only one who came in.

The silence was almost peaceful. You hummed a light tune, your fingers dancing across the keyboard as you typed—line by line—a resignation letter.

It was time. Levi deserved better. A company that didn’t treat her like trash. Not this toxic circus masked as a professional environment.

You clicked ‘Print’, and just as the printer began to whir, your phone rang.

“Yeah, Mom?” you answered casually, leaning back in your chair.

Your mother’s voice was calm but firm. “Your sister told me everything”

You sighed. “I’ve handled it.”

“They cry in pain?”

“Choked in their tears,” you said with a smirk, watching the printer spit out the paper.

“Good.” A pause. “Do you need a lawyer? I have a lot of friends whose husbands are great lawyers.”

You chuckled. “No, Mom. Everything’s under control.”

“Good job, baby.”

"Is Dad at home?" you asked.

"He’s still on a trip with his friends," your mom replied.

"What if he finds out about Levi?"

"Only God knows, honey."

You picked up the resignation letter and glanced at Levi’s name at the top. “This will be my last day… or should I say, ‘Levi’s’ last day. I’ve already printed the resignation letter.”

“No, dear! Don’t give the letter,” your mother said suddenly.

You paused, frowning. “Why not?”

“Because—”

She didn’t finish.

You froze mid-step.

Two figures walked into the department.

You turned your head slowly, eyes widening as you saw who it was.

Your hand, still holding the letter, trembled slightly.

Of all people…

'What the hell are you doing here?'

*****

Yesterday, at the McCain House

The black SUV rolled quietly into the driveway. The engine cut off, and the passenger door opened. Ortiz stepped out first, then turned to help Levi out of the car. Her movements were slow, stiff. Casey gently supported her from the other side, guiding her carefully as if she might break.

Levi squinted at the familiar front porch, her expression puzzled.

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ortiz exchanged a glance with Casey before replying, “Captain said staying in the city would only stress you out more. The doctor agreed.”

Before Levi could respond, the sound of laughter echoed from inside the house—warm, bright, and unmistakably familiar. As they stepped through the front door, they saw Elle McCain, Levi’s mother, laughing with two of her friends in the sitting room.

Elle's eyes widened when she spotted her daughter.

“Levi? Honey?” she asked in surprise, setting her teacup down and rising to her feet.

Levi offered her mother a tired smile. “Hi, Mom. I just need some rest. We’ll talk later.” She didn’t wait for a reply and slowly made her way upstairs.

Elle blinked, clearly confused by her daughter’s sudden arrival and unusual demeanor. Her gaze shifted to the two people standing in the doorway.

“Ortiz. Casey.” Her tone softened, recognizing them instantly. “You two again. Have you eaten any home-cooked food since you got back?”

Both of them stood straighter. “No, ma’am,” they answered in unison.

“There’s pork ribs, mashed potatoes, peach cobbler, and iced tea in the kitchen,” Elle said with a knowing smile.

The moment she listed the food, both Ortiz and Casey's stomachs practically growled in unison.

“Thank you, ma’am!” they said quickly and hurried off toward the kitchen.

Elle waited patiently until her friends left later that evening. Once the house was quiet again, she climbed the stairs and gently knocked on Levi’s door. No response. She opened it slowly and stepped inside.

Levi was curled up on the bed, wrapped tightly in a blanket pulled over her head like a cocoon. The only thing visible was the slight rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed.

Elle walked to the bed and sat on the edge, then carefully pulled the blanket down from Levi’s face.

The sight broke her heart.

Levi’s face was pale and gaunt. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes sunken. Her once-vibrant presence was now drained and brittle.

“My daughter…” Elle whispered, her voice catching. “What happened to you?”

Levi turned her head away, unable to meet her mother’s eyes.

Elle placed a hand on Levi’s shoulder, gentle but firm. “Does your sister know? Is that why her friends brought you here?”

Levi gave a slow nod, her eyes brimming with tears.

Elle stood abruptly. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath. “Who did this to you?”

Levi hesitated, then whispered, “It’s a long story.”

Elle crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got all night.”

Levi sighed, knowing she couldn’t avoid this. So she began to speak. Slowly at first, then all at once. She told her mother everything—what she endured at the company, how the bullying escalated, how she lost weight, sleep, confidence. How she tried to tough it out. And how her sister—impulsive, fearless—took matters into her own hands.

It took Elle a long moment to fully grasp it all.

“So... your sister is pretending to be you. She’s working at the company. In your place.”

Levi nodded again.

Elle’s expression darkened. “Good. Let them taste hell.”

“Mom…” Levi said gently.

Elle sat down again beside her daughter. “Honey, you’re a smart kid. Why the hell did you stay in that toxic place for so long?”

“That place gave me a lot of benefits,” Levi murmured. “And I had a friend there…”

Elle narrowed her eyes. “A friend? You stayed because of someone?”

Levi nodded slowly. “I wanted to work beside him.”

Elle’s voice lowered. “Who is this person?”

Levi hesitated, her voice trembling just slightly. “He’s…”

*****

Back to the present time…

You froze.

The two figures who stepped into the department caught you mid-sentence with your mother. You slowly lowered your phone, your eyes widening in disbelief.

Standing there was someone you hadn’t seen in years—but you'd recognize him anywhere. Tall, sharp-featured, with piercing blue eyes and hair swept back like he always used to wear it.

James Buchanan Barnes.

He stepped closer, concern etched into every line of his face.

“Levi?” His voice was softer now—gentler than you remembered. “I’m sorry I’m too late. Are you alright?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your voice. “Yeah… yeah.”

But you weren’t. Not really.

Your heart pounded in your chest like it was trying to break free. You hadn't seen Bucky in what felt like a lifetime. Not since high school. And back then, you and Levi had shared more than just the same face—you shared the same crush.

You both liked the same food—steak medium rare with garlic butter. You listened to the same music—acoustic rock. You even loved the same person.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky looked at you—really looked. “I should’ve found out sooner,” he said, his jaw tightening. “I had no idea what was going on in this department. The H.R. covered it up… and the manager too. They knew we knew each other. That’s why they hid it.”

You blinked. “You knew?”

“I recognized your name the first time it landed on my desk,” he admitted. “But I thought maybe I was just imagining things. Until Kyle told me what really happened.”

You nodded slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. Of course Levi never wanted to quit. Was it because… of him?

Your chest tightened.

Bucky took a breath and stepped closer. “You don’t have to work in this department anymore. Starting today, you’ll be my assistant.”

That’s when your heart really started to race.

It beat so fast, you were sure Bucky could hear it. Was this what it felt like… meeting your long-time crush again after all these years?

But it wasn’t your name he’d said with such warmth. It was Levi’s.

You weren’t just standing in someone else’s department. You were standing in someone else’s shoes. And it hit you harder than you expected.

You swallowed down the sudden tightness in your chest. Why did your chest feel tight? It was just a high school crush—a long time ago.

You glanced down, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck.

‘Alright, Levi…’ you thought. ‘I’ll stay. I’ll hold the door open for you—so you can finally be with Bucky.’

My book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing are on Kindle. Check it out!

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Amazon.com: Dad, I Can't Let You Go eBook : Bing, Alina C.: Kindle Store

[solitaryearthperson]

I'm Not A Hero

Summary: A mistake on a mission makes you question whether you're a hero and Bruce helps you.

(The reader is gender neutral and uses they/them pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably a person of color.)

The sounds of bombs going off and multiple people screaming out was hard to get out of my head, but I tried my hardest to do so. People yelling, crying, and praying in multiple languages was too much for my ears to take. People scattered across everywhere, some on the ground, some in dirt, some in crumbling buildings, bleeding from injuries too severe to heal from was too much for my eyes. I kept seeing them over and over. Even though it had been weeks, almost a month, I couldn't get it out of my head.

"Kid, it's okay. Don't listen to them." Tony patted me on the shoulder and told me this the day after, when it was all over the news.

Every news channel had the same headline: Avengers saves the day, but causes more lives lost. And every one of them had a video of me, the camera zooming in on my figure. They would all pause right at the time my powers went loose and the headlines would change to "Did the Avengers recruit a villain?"

"(Y/N), don't think about it. The news is making it worse than it really is." Natasha told me this when she visited my room the next day, finding me wrapped up in my blanket and watching the news play the video over and over, staring at the image of me on the screen causing so much damage.

"The death toll is in the hundreds now, while the number of injured has reached the thousands," the news caster said.

"Most of those people were already injured or dying before we even got there, (Y/N)," Clint told me, after Natasha left, disappointed that her consoling me didn't help. "You saved a lot of lives. So many people are walking around, breathing, and living because of you."

It didn't matter if that was true or not, it didn't matter that there were people who weren't injured, people who survived and could get back to their regular lives. To me, none of it mattered if the cost of this victory was hundreds, thousands, or even millions of people dying or getting hurt.

I thought I had myself under control. I thought I could handle it. This mission wasn't my first, but it was the first that so many people had died because of me being reckless and overconfident, forgetting the strength of my powers.

"Come to the party, (Y/N)," Steve urged me, with Natasha and Clint beside him. "It'll be fun and we'll see people who are honored and glad that you rescued them."

The party they're referring to is some party/award ceremony being thrown by half the government and half Tony Stark for rescuing so many people. We'll receive awards, and be honored as absolute heroes of the country. I had informed them a few days before that I didn't want to go and instead I would rather stay in my room binge-watch TV, but they insisted, to the point that Nat threatened to kidnap me from my room and force me to attend.

~

"(Y/N)!"

"(Y/N)!"

"(Y/N)!"

Flashes of cameras and reporters calling my name was quite an overwhelming thing that I haven't gotten used to since being on the team. The others told me that it takes time, but if it ever gets too much, it's alright to duck out when I get a chance, and right now, that's exactly how I was feeling.

So many people yelling my name asking what designer I was wearing, what diet I was on, how often did I train, and other questions were still strange to me.

"(Y/N), can you show us some of your powers?"

The question caught me off guard, but I tried to not let it show and responded with a polite smile and said, "Um, maybe some other time. I will give you a great show then." I was fine until I heard the next question.

"Is it because of your last mission?"

The question made me freeze, and I looked around to find if any of the others were around to help me, but suddenly I couldn't find any of them near me. It was like they had suddenly disappeared.

"What do you have to say about the death toll now reaching 1,000?"

"What?" I asked, feeling my heart beat speed up. I hadn't heard about the deaths getting that high.

"Sources say that you have no control over your powers. Is that true?"

"I-I,...um," I didn't know what to say, my tongue suddenly felt numb and I could feel all the hair on my body stand up.

"Why did the Avengers recruit you if you don't have control over yourself?"

"How can the public trust you?"

I wanted to tell them that it was an accident, that it was one slip-up that will never happen again, but I couldn't make myself do it.

"(Y/N)!"

I recognized the voice but I didn't bother looking to see where and who it came from. Before I could hear another question, I quickly walked away from the reporters and left the room. I didn't know where I was going, only that I needed to get as far away from the party as possible.

Before I knew it, I was opening the door of a nearby hallway closet and ran inside, slamming it shut behind me. Not hearing any footsteps behind me, I took a deep breath and stood against the wall, trying to calm my mind and forget the questions, but it was too hard. How did I not know the death toll rose that high? How could I lose control like that? Why did I lose control? Will it happen again?

I could feel my heart beating hard inside me, like it wanted to escape my body, and I could hear it loud in my ears like drums. Why did I come here? I shouldn't have come here! I don't need to be here! I'm not a hero!

I can't breathe! I tried to catch my breath, tried to breathe deeply again, but for some reason I couldn't. The questions from before were now screaming in my head and the images of my blurry figure on the news kept flashing through my mind. I shouldn't be here! I'm not a hero!

"(Y/N)," I heard a voice suddenly say my name through all the noise. I hadn't even realized that I had closed my eyes and I opened them to see Bruce standing before me, closing the closet door, and looking at me with a look of concern on his face.

"Bruce," I asked, trying to breathe, but still failing. "What're you doing here?"

"I saw you rush out and followed you. Are you okay?" He stepped toward me and grabbed me by my shoulders, squeezing them comfortingly.

"I can't breathe," I told him, feeling tears that I had been holding in for the longest begin to run down my face. "I can't be here."

"Hey everything's okay," he tried to tell me.

"I can't go out there! I can't answer any questions! I shouldn't be here after what I did!"

"(Y/N)," his voice was more stern and when I looked into his eyes, I saw nothing but kindness. "Do what I say. Okay?"

I quickly nodded my head.

"Count with me. 1...2...3... Inhale...4...5...6 exhale."

I nodded my head again and looked at him while doing it. "1...2...3," I looked at him before inhaling, seeing him nod, then continued, "4...5...6," then I exhaled slowly.

"Good. Do it again."

We continued to do this for a couple more minutes. He was patient and counted along with me, then inhaled and exhaled with me too. Each time we did it, I began to breathe easier, and my heart beat began to slow down, but the questions and memories of the mission and the video on the news kept running through my mind over and over again. When he finally saw my breathing become normal, that's when he chose to ask the question that I was dreading to hear him ask.

"Why are you in here?"

"I couldn't take being out there anymore. I had to get away."

"Why? What did they ask you?"

Another question I was dreading to hear, but I tried to suck up as much courage and answer him honestly. "They asked about my powers, and what happened on the mission, and," I could hear my voice begin to tremble, but I ignored it and continued speaking, "They told me about the deaths...that it's in the thousands now."

A look of recognition came over his face and he wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into a hug that I was not expecting, but greatfully accepted. Bruce was more shy than everyone else and kept his distance from the others, so this absolutely surprised me.

"I know how you feel, (Y/N)."

"You do?"

"Yeah," he replied with a little laugh. "The hulk had done some damage in the past. For good and bad."

Oh yeah. I had forgotten about the things the hulk has done. So many people are fans of the Avengers now, including Bruce, that I briefly forgot about the damage to New York.

"What do you mean 'you shouldn't be here', (Y/N)?"

Pulling away, I sniffed, and quickly wiped away the tears from my face before answering him, "The others wanted me to come, but I don't think I should be here. I don't feel like a hero. I feel like a-"

"Monster," he finished for me, making me smile a little. "The others don't have powers like ours. We make a small mistake, it can have big consequences."

"How do you deal with it? The death. Destruction. I don't feel like a hero anymore. I feel like a fraud."

"No matter how much that voice in your head tells you differently, you're a hero. You can't save everyone, all the time. There's gonna be lots of victories, but some sadness as well. Try to find ways to distract yourself. "

"How?"

He sighed loudly before replying, "Meditation, yoga, reading, maybe sports. Try to find a hobby that you know will quickly distract you and make you not think for a while."

As Bruce spoke, I couldn't help but be really moved and quite sad. I've never really interacted with him outside of the usual mission, and sometimes forgot he was there. This whole time I never thought about how he has gone through the same thing as I have and more. Realizing this also made me feel a little sympathy as well as I realize that not only has he gone through this before, but he's also had to cope with everything I'm feeling before, only he had to cope by himself.

"So do you wanna try going back out there or stay here a little longer?"

Just the thought of going back out there and knowing that there's a possibility that I'll have to answer anymore questions made me feel sick, so I quickly shook my head.

"I wanna stay here." He nodded his head in understanding and before he could turn, I asked, "Could you stay and keep me company? You don't have to if you don't wanna."

"Sure," he said, then took out his phone and moved to sit on the floor. He looked up at me and patted the spot next to him. "You wanna watch some Netflix till the party's over?"

I smiled and happily sat down next to him, ready to watch whatever just as long as I didn't go back out there.

"What do you think of 'The Witcher'?"

"My favorite," I told him, scooting closer to look down at the phone.

Who knew that me and Dr. Banner had so much in common with each other?!

[thatonebrazilian]

Illicit Affairs

A/N: Hey guys, I kinda have the sads, so I decided to use it for the greater good and ended up writing this based on Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift. Anyway, not my greatest work, I don't think I write really well in english, but I hope you guys like it.

Word count: 1063

Pairings: Nat x Reader

Summary: You were falling for Natasha and, despite being with Bruce, she couldn't hold her feelings for you back.

-----

It started out with the training. You were the youngest recruit S.H.I.E.L.D has ever had and, as far as non-enhanced people go, you were also one of the most promising ones. So it was natural that the higher-ups appointed you to be trained by the most accomplished non-enhanced person they had, and that’s how the Black Widow became your handler.

During the training sessions, the only thing you could focus on was how mesmerizing Natasha was, you couldn’t keep your eyes away and you had a feeling Natasha knew it wasn’t the training you were paying attention to.

The two of you didn’t become friends super fast, no. Natasha was too reserved a person, she didn’t open up that easily. You, being the personified ray of sunshine that you were, were relentless in your quest to make her feel as comfortable as possible around you.

When you two first connected it was over, weirdly, Natasha’s secret appreciation for pop songs (and only god knows how you managed to find that out).

After that, it only went downhill, for you at least, since you were falling. Fast.

Your first kiss was a ruse on a mission. It made your heart beat ten times faster and you had to use all your focus not to screw the mission after that. You saw Natasha’s dilated pupils, but you assumed it was just desire. Everyone knew the Black Widow and the Hulk were sort of an unspoken thing, so you really didn’t hold any expectations.

And then all of a sudden it seemed as if Natasha wanted more time together, just the two of you. She would call you Kid, request for you to do extra training at ungodly hours together, suggest you revise missions three, four, five times over alongside one another, invite you to buy new weapons with her. It was all a pretense, all to spend more time together.

She was with Bruce, you had to keep reminding yourself, Natasha was with Bruce and all she wanted was a friend.

But then Nat kissed you, not in lust or desire, not as a ruse to an operation, she kissed you after you were wounded on a mission, she kissed you like she cared, like you were important to her, like you mattered. The kisses never stopped after that.

You would always sneak out, then, making sure nobody saw you leave. They couldn’t know, Natasha was official with Bruce now. You would always tell your friends you were going out for a run before leaving the building to meet Nat in some inconspicuous place, after all, you were always flushed when you returned.

Although you knew it was wrong, although you told yourself you could always stop, you couldn’t really hold yourself back, you were in too deep, you were in love with Natasha.

But as time passed you realized that what started in a beautiful room, the grand ball hall where Natasha kissed you for the first time, now seemed to be ending up more and more frequently with meetings in parking lots. You couldn’t blame Natasha, though, not really, the redhead always made it clear she was still with Bruce. You had no hold on her.

That was the thing with illicit affairs, and clandestine meetings, and longing stares, it was born from just one single glance, but it was always supposed to die, wasn’t it? You couldn’t feel it dying, though, the flame Nat felt for you, you could only feel it grow, but it was meant to die, wasn’t it?

You eventually stopped wearing the perfume Natasha liked, the one you picked out just for her. You would leave it on the shelf, hidden away, so when you met up with Nat you wouldn’t leave any trace behind. Like you didn’t even exist.

You felt Natasha a little more distant then. When you would ask, the Black Widow would just look at you for a few seconds before saying something incredibly poetic like “It just scares me how much I’ve been thinking about you lately” or “I haven’t been sleeping well, it feels like I can smell you, but you’re never there by my side, it makes me toss and turn the whole night as if all I need to sleep is you”.

You tried to take the words for what they were, a dwindling, mercurial high, a drug you wished could only work the first few hundred times, but whenever Natasha spoke those things your chest swelled with affection for the Black Widow.

The meetings between the two of you became even more frequent, you wouldn’t just sneak out anymore, Natasha would actually take you out to some nice places. They were like dates, it made your heart soar but your stomach drop. You loved it, you loved being with Natasha, but you knew the possibility of the others finding out was bigger like that.

You felt your heart torn into two, you couldn’t keep up with the lying anymore, not to Bruce, not to the whole team. But that was the thing with illicit affairs, and clandestine meetings, and stolen stares, they showed their truth whenever they were together, but they lied, and they lied, and they lied a million little times to their friends, their family.

You were decided to end it, even if it would break you.

But then Natasha told you she wanted to make it official. You had tears in your eyes, you wanted to yell at Nat, tell her look at this godforsaken mess that you made me, tell her she showed you colors you couldn’t see with anyone else, and all that for what? She was still with Bruce, wasn’t she?

“Baby…” Natasha tried to explain, but you wouldn’t let her.

“Don't call me kid, don't call me baby, look at this idiotic fool that you made me. You have me wrapped around your little finger, it’s like you taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else.”

Nat cupped your face and wiped the tears away.

“My love, I broke up with him. I broke up with Bruce.” Natasha said and, like she read your mind, like she knew you were going to ask about the consequences, she just said “And fuck the consequences. You know damn well that, for you, I would ruin myself a million little times.”

[imagining-imagines]

[jae-sch-writes]

Lunchtime in Solitude

Characters: Sebastian Stan x Reader (more platonic than romantic), MCU cast

Word Count: 808

Prompt: Solitude- a state of seclusion or isolation

Genre: angst

Warnings: ostracism (I think that’s it; let me know if I missed anything!)

A/N: This is for @until-theend-oftheline Beautiful Words Challenge! I am so sorry that this is up so late! I was trying to make sure I got it right! I’m so so so sorry again! Also, I’m sure the MCU actors wouldn’t actually leave someone out, this is just for the purpose of the story! Edited by Grammarly, but any and all mistakes are my own an no one is to blame for them but me, myself, and I.

Despite working on what could possibly be one of the biggest movie sets in the world, you still felt alone. Nothing hurt more than eating alone every day at lunch when everyone else was eating together and talking and laughing at whatever joke someone -probably Chris Pratt- made. Eventually, you just stopped trying to join in on the fun. Every day, instead of seeing if anyone saved you a seat, you went straight to your trailer. Some days, you didn’t even stop to get the food provided, you started bringing your own lunch and supper every day. You wondered if it was even intentional. Maybe you were just that annoying that they made a point of excluding you from their lunchtime discussions. You knew that you were just reading too much into it, but that didn’t stop that little voice inside your head from saying otherwise. There was one day that Sebastian noticed you heading for you trailer before even grabbing a plate of the Chinese provided for the cast and crew. He made a point of bringing it up that day during the conversation, but everyone just told him that you preferred to eat alone.

The next day, Sebastian made a point of asking you to join him for lunch, but you declined. You said you didn’t want to intrude on anything that he and everyone else already had going on, but thanked him for the offer before retreated back to your trailer. Sebastian didn’t mind that you had rejected his offer. What he did mind was how you had used your acting skills against him. Your voice had said that you were fine with eating by yourself in your trailer, and you sounded convincing. Your body language and facial expressions told a truth that he knew was actually a lie. He could see the real truth in the thing that’s the hardest to control while acting: the eyes. Your eyes told a completely different story than the rest of your body. They told him that you thought he was asking out of pity. They said that you were hurt by no one asking you sooner. They explained that you had gotten used to being excluded and isolated from the rest of the cast. Your Y/EC had told him that you had become accustomed to the solitude that lunch had brought you. It broke Sebastian’s heart to see you like this. You didn’t deserve to be secluded from the group. You were a wonderful person who always tried to help everyone who needed it. He was even mad at himself for not noticing you were never there sooner. He was mad at everyone else for never inviting you to sit with them. There were so many inside jokes that you weren’t a part of, all because they ostracized you. There were multiple conversations that he knew you would have made an excellent contribution to. So many things were wrong with this situation, and he wanted to at least try making it up to you. The following day at lunch, he grabbed his food and made his way to your trailer. He decided he was going to eat lunch with you, or at the very least, not eat lunch with everyone else. When he knocked on your door, you were surprised. No one ever interacted with you during the lunch break, however, when you opened the door, you weren’t shocked to see who was standing on the other side. Sebastian stood there. “Can I, uh… Can I come inside?” “Yeah.”  You opened the door wider for him to enter. He stepped inside and after you sat down on the floor in front of your couch, he sat next to you and saw that you had a movie playing on the TV. “Whatcha watchin’?” “American Assassin.” “Nice.” You sat in silence for a while, eating your own separate meals. He had the sushi that provided that day and you had leftover spaghetti from the night before. “Sebastian-” you started, startled by your own sudden break in the quiet atmosphere around you. “Yeah?” “Why’d you come here?” “What do ya mean?” “I mean, you usually eat lunch with everyone else, so why come here to eat with me? I just sit here and watch movies.” “Because I realized how we were treating you and it’s not fair. I was actually disgusted to see the pain in your eyes when I asked you yesterday to join us. You don’t deserve to be excluded like that, no one does.” “Well thank you, Seb.” “Of course, Y/N. I’ll come here every day if you’d like. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re alone. So if you want me to, I’d like to eat lunch with you from now on, just you.” “I’d like that, I’d like that a lot.”

Tags

@re-fordoremi @the-sporty-musical-nerd @ash-the-novice-poet

[hollandroos]

Bullet Wounds | Peter Parker Drabble

I feel like I’ve been neglecting my boy! so here's a small, angsty drabble.

Summary: You get shot on a mission and try to hide it from Peter.

Words: 700

“We did it, Y/N! We won”

Peter pulled off his mask and pulled you in for a tight hug, his arms wrapping firmly around your waist and you had to bite your lip to prevent the small whimper that wanted to escape and wrapped your arms around his waist to stop your legs from crumbling beneath you, all from the pain his body colliding into yours caused.

Your outstretched arms seemed to make it worse but you wanted to stay there for a little longer, enjoying the warmth he bought you.

It was only a graze, just a graze. The bullet had merely made contact with your skin before being diverted by Steve or maybe even Tony, possibly even Hulk.

“W-we did! We did it, Pete” he smiled widely, pulling away. His face only fell when he noticed the unshed tears in your lips, the blood-forming on your bottom lips and oh wow, your cheeks were flushed bright red, bright, fire truck red.

“Are you okay?” The whirling of the jets started and you gripped Peters arms, flicking him a crooked smile.

“I’m good, yeah, I’m fine” You lied straight through your teeth, making sure that your arm now covered the wound beneath your catsuit. “Go back to the jet, I need to do something and I’ll be there in a moment”

“Are you sure? You look pale and-”

“I’m fine, was a tough mission is all. I’ll be there in a few” He nodded, still unsure before turning away and running back to the jet where the rest of the team had been waiting.

When he was out of sight, you turned around, placing a hand over the gash and with shaky fingers, pulled away. Red, crimson, bloody red stained your fingertips and you had to refrain yourself from passing out when you noticed the blood spreading faster and faster until the abdomen area of your suit became sticky.

You’d become almost numb, maybe out of shock or maybe just because your pain tolerance was immensely high but you knew that if you weren’t a superhuman you would’ve been writhing around on the ashy floor by now, gripping the fallen rocks for support but you weren’t a normal human.

“It’s just a bullet wound, you’re not-, not going to die” Your breath got caught in the back of your throat as you spoke. The world spun, munted cars whirling around even when your vision became blurred. It was then that you also noticed that god the area stunk, or gore and death and whatever else was strong enough to leave a city reacking.

This was meant to be an easy mission, nothing too big yet nothing exactly small so how on Earth had you let that bullet slip you gaze? Better yet, a poisonous bullet. You could already feel the poison spreading, sinking into your veins. You saw death every day with your own two eyes but now it was you, it was you that was sinking to your knees, gripping your throat to allow even the smallest amount of oxygen pass through.

“Peter” You tried to call out his name, but it came out as a mere whisper. Your throat had gone dry, too dry in the span of thirty seconds and you lifted- or tried to lift your foot to move, to walk to them but you couldn’t. You were stuck bleeding out, heavy hallucinations as the bullet lodged its way into your abdomen, spreading its poison.

This was the last thing you wanted him to see, but you needed him to hold your hand, to tell you that it was okay even if it wasn’t going to be okay because you were clearly fucking dying. 

Unknown to you, Peter was sitting on the edge of the quinjet, legs hanging off of the side as they dangled back and forth repeatedly.

“Hey kid, where’s Y/N? We’re about ready to take off.” Tony, his mentor.

“She needed a moment, she’ll be here in a few. Can we just-, Can we just give her a few more minutes?”

“Sure thing” he took a seat next to Peter, the iron man suit probably discarded in the weapons vault section of the jet. “So, anything happened with the two of you?”

Peter blushed, his cheeks flushing an innocent shade of pink as he tangled his clammy fingers together. “Yeah I uhh, I asked her out on a date this morning. She said yes”

@draqcnheartstrinq @hollanderheart  @peters-vlogs @no-aaaahhhh @underoosie @cosmetologynerd @holland-ish @kaciidubs @spidey-pal @call-me-wisegirl @khai-day-the-13th @leni-lion-luke-larb-logic  @panicatttckiss @marriedtopeterparker @stormyparker @mysticsthinking @elyshugh @spider-mendes @girl-in-the-chair @sort-of-pretty-in-pink @bloom003-blog @nextkaratekid @saracastickid @prof-scribbles @holyrose96 @riverdalemami @strangerthantheflash @sams-hollands @tiau-man @tiny-friggin-human @thollandtrash @amidblogger @tiau-man @zseonlydavinci @therealme13posts @zseonlydavinci @httpmcrvel @acciorinn @shakespeare-and-shenanigans @satellitesweetpea @maddie-leighhh @spideymanss @stephie-senpai @sherizaraiyah @tomsh0lland @spidey-pal @casualprincess77 @starlightfound @fandom-feathers @spidergirlwanab @smileyhollander @notthepersonyouwerelookingfor @tomhollandsworld @necromancer-inwell @doloreatroce @hottrashformarvel @fragcc @woosh-pear @spider-mendes @softhollandhoe @ill-be-your-temporary-fix @thegirlwiththestories @elyshugh @stilinski-parker @misscookie-monster16 @amidblogger @lovelynerdytraveler @tmrhollandkay @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @thedoctor-and-her-fallenangles @peachesnmei  @ocaptainmycaptainrogers @fuckmerunningtomholland @chingonaconcha @johannaapagan @tomhollandsmouthfr0g @cielofiorito @crazy-bout-books @my-peter-parker @@thehollandfam @its-peter-fucking-parker @lostnliterature @sarcasticsara04 @a-bit-of-contained-galaxies @why-am-i-here-again-shitheads

[crazylittlewitch]

Loki: [gets a paper cut]

Y/N: [under their breath] God, hasn’t he suffered enough!

[prider-parker-imaginations]

79 and 32 with Grant Ward (AOS)

#32. “You’re everything to me.” / #79. “We’ll figure this out.”

“What the hell is going on?” You swallowed hard to try and control your growing anxiety. Comms had been silent for the past hour and Ward was the first person you’d seen since.

“We’re in lockdown,” he explained, keeping his voice low.

“Yeah, I got that much. What I want to know is why!” you hissed.

“Welcome to the club. Best I can tell is some enhanced got loose. Don’t know how many, don’t know what abilities, just that they’re dangerous.” He moved to stand but you caught the sleeve of his jacket.

“Where are you going?” you demanded, eyes widening.

“I’ve gotta make sure containment teams are headed in the right direction. They’re gonna need all the help they can get.” He took hold of your face between his hands, “You’re everything to me. I’m going to keep you safe.”

You shook your head. “If there are unknown enhanced loose out there, one man won’t matter, even if that man is you. We’ll figure this out. But we need to use brain, not brawn, okay?”

Ward pressed his lips together. “Fine. We’ll find another way.”

Prompt List // Requests are open

[skymoonandstardust]

Marvel Soulmate Au Masterlist

Dreaming of you   Loki  x reader

Bound by a name   Thor x reader

Color Vision     Sam Wilson x reader

Racing Hearts   Peitro Maximoff x reader

Counting up      Steve Rogers x reader

1-800-soulmates  Tony Stark x reader

Metal superman   James Rhodes x reader

Heartstrings and. . . Webstrings   Peter Parker

Initial Meetings   Phil Coulson x reader 

Cupid's Bow   Clint Barton x reader

First words   Bruce Banner x reader

Crossed Paths   Bucky Barnes x reader

The forevers: @casownsmyass​​ @a-sea-of-fandoms @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious​ @docharleythegeekqueen​

Marvel soulmate girls: @nykeemauniverse @midnightsummers123 @wildestdreamsrps  @fangirlinghamster @rougedemigods @phaethy @andaddalittlesarcasm @stephie-rowena @@a-girl-who-loves-disney @secondstartotheright-imagines

[pinkbluedreamer]

That toxic department better be shut down. I was ready to fight through the page.

Okay but let’s talk about that flashback. The twins BOTH crushing on Bucky?? I smell disaster and I’m HERE for it.

Her Turn Now - 2

Character: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Twin sisters. Opposite worlds. The eldest is a tough, no-nonsense soldier. The youngest is a quiet, hardworking corporate girl. They rarely meet—until the younger sister collapses from stress, hiding months of workplace bullying.

Furious and protective, the soldier twin trades places with her. Heels off, boots on. Now, the office has no idea what's coming.

She doesn’t play nice. She doesn’t play fair. And while she's serving justice in a pencil skirt, the ruthless CEO starts to take notice…

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , -

Working in an office really doesn't suit you.

In battle, things are simple. When someone annoys you, you shut them up—with a fist or a boot to the face. Problem solved. But here?

Here, you’re surrounded by high heels, fake smiles, and the sharp click-clack of keyboards... and every single sound grates your nerves.

You grit your teeth, nails tapping against the desk, fists clenched under the table just to stop yourself from punching someone in the throat. You’ve only been here two hours, and already, you’re planning five different ways to commit corporate homicide.

Your respect for Levi just skyrocketed. Eight months she endured this hell? You can barely last one morning.

'Should you? Yes, you can.' 'Lock the door. Grab the stapler. Use the pencil. There are weapons everywhere.'

That little voice in your head sounds far too convincing. If it were the real you—Captain McCain—you’d be halfway through your rampage by now. But no. You're Levi now.

And if Levi McCain loses her cool? That delicate record she’s worked so hard to build will shatter.

Just then, a thick stack of papers lands on your desk with a loud thwack. You glance up. Some guy—you don’t even know his name—doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking like you’re invisible.

"What the hell is this?" you mutter under your breath.

Another assignment. Charts. Reports. Forecast analysis? You squint at the spreadsheet like it’s in another language. Honestly, it might as well be.

They're piling it on, testing you. You've been here two hours, and already they’ve dumped more work on your desk than a full week’s load.

You inhale slowly. Count to five. Calm. You’re supposed to be Levi. Quiet. Polite. Fragile. Yeah, right.

But you didn’t come into this unarmed. Oh no. You came with a secret weapon.

Thanks to Casey.

The night before your little infiltration mission, she handed you a sleek tablet loaded with a custom AI system she’s been tinkering with.

"You’re a genius in combat, boss. Not in spreadsheets," she said with a smirk. "I built this so you can focus on wrecking those bastards emotionally instead."

So while everyone else thinks you’re slaving over numbers, you're calmly sipping your coffee and letting Casey’s AI handle the data analysis.

Now, with zero hesitation, you lift the freshly completed reports and toss them right back at the guy’s desk with a smooth flick of your wrist.

He freezes, staring at the documents like you just performed black magic.

Around the office, heads start turning. Whispers ripple through the floor like electricity.

'How did she finish that so fast?' 'Wasn’t that supposed to take a day?' 'Did she make any mistakes?'

You lean back in your chair, legs crossed, eyes sharp. You don’t say a word. Just stare at them all like a predator in disguise.

Let them wonder. Let them whisper.

You’re just getting started.

You weren’t made for this world of polite requests and passive-aggressive comments—and you’re done pretending.

When someone dumps files on your desk and tells you to print them, you don’t even look up.

“Do it yourself. The printer’s right on your table.”

Another, bolder one strolls over, holding out a coffee order list.

“Buy some for the team, will you? Get that caramel thing we like.”

You raise a brow and don’t even break stride as you type, voice flat and sharp.

“Try Uber Eats. Or your own damn legs.”

They blink, stunned, as you go back to work like the conversation never happened.

Lunch hour can’t come fast enough. You head down to the building’s park—if you don’t get some air, you might actually kill someone.

You sit on the bench, arms crossed, legs tense. The sun is warm, but your mood is ice. Your jaw still clenched tight.

Then you hear it—laughter.

Voices carry across the grass. Familiar ones.

You glance to your left.

A group of men are huddled in the smoking area—coworkers from your department. Laughing, puffing away, basking in their own stink. You recognize the manager too.

You stay still. Listen.

One of them exhales smoke and scoffs.

“Can’t believe Levi came in today. What’s she trying to prove, showing up now?”

Another snickers.

“Yeah, like she belongs at the celebration. After everything? Please.”

The manager—Levi’s direct boss—chimes in, laughing low and mean.

“She probably thought we’d be happy to see her. Delusional.”

The first guy adds, “Well, no one tell her where we’re going tonight, alright?”

Another laughs. “As if she’s invited. The restaurant doesn’t take extras anyway.”

And then—what finally makes your blood boil—

“If she hadn’t flagged that budget error last quarter, we’d have had bigger bonuses. What a buzzkill. Should’ve just kept her mouth shut.”

Silence hits your chest like a gut punch.

Your hands ball into fists on your lap.

So that’s how they talk about her. About Levi. After all her quiet effort. Her eight months of biting her tongue, holding back, working herself into the ground.

You don’t move. You don’t breathe. You sit there until they finish their smokes and saunter off, laughing like nothing happened.

When they’re gone, you finally exhale—and realize your hands are trembling. One still clutches your phone.

You hit speed dial.

“Yeah, boss?” Casey answers, casual as always.

You look up at the sky. Your voice is calm. Too calm.

“Prepare a runaway car. Gloves. Face mask. And night vision goggles.”

Casey pauses.

“…Do you need a lawyer too?”

You let out a slow breath.

“I don’t think I’ll need it. But yeah, just in case.”

You hang up.

No more playing nice.

They wanted Levi to stay quiet. Big mistake. They got you instead.

💥💥💥💥

The restaurant was packed—but only with them. Levi’s entire department had booked the place for a night of fake smiles and undeserved celebration. Laughter rang loud. Glasses clinked. Wine flowed freely.

The manager, drunk on his own ego, stood up and raised his glass. “To us—the real backbone of this company!”

Cheers followed. Forced. Loud. Hollow.

Then— Darkness.

The lights went out without warning.

A beat of silence. Confused murmurs.

“Probably just for a while,” someone said, chuckling nervously.

Then— “Uhk!”

A rough, strangled sound.

“Sounded like a duck getting choked,” the manager joked, and the room erupted in laughter.

But the laughter didn’t last.

It was replaced by chaos.

A chair crashed to the floor. A plate shattered. A man screamed. Another was silenced mid-sentence by a punch to the gut.

One by one, they dropped.

No warning. No mercy. Male. Female. Coworker. Manager. None of them were spared.

They didn’t even see who hit them.

Fists, elbows, knees—precise and brutal. The air filled with the sound of bodies slamming into tables, glass crunching beneath shoes, and groans of disbelief.

The manager took the worst of it. A swift kick to the chest sent him straight into the dessert table. A metal tray slammed across his face. His hands scrambled for cover that didn’t exist.

By the end, the room was wrecked. People groaned and whimpered in the dark, crawling, gasping, too stunned to react.

Only one person walked out untouched.

Calm steps. Back straight. Breath steady. No fear. No remorse.

As you stepped past the broken chaos, your thoughts were razor-sharp.

'Karma takes her sweet time… So I gave her a hand.'

🏢🏢🏢🏢

The Next Morning

A sleek black sedan sat idling on the curb. The tinted windows reflected the city skyline, but inside, the air was tense.

In the back seat, Bucky Barnes—CEO, sharp-suited and sharp-jawed—sat in silence. His dark eyes were unreadable as he glanced out the window. His posture was relaxed, but his fingers drummed lightly against his thigh. A storm brewed behind that calm exterior.

“I thought you were joking when you called me,” Bucky finally said, voice low and cool.

He had just landed from London, where he’d been in talks with a major international partner. The time difference and chaos hadn’t fazed him—what did was the reason for the call.

Kyle, his vice president, sat beside him. Unlike Bucky, Kyle looked restless, flicking through files on his tablet.

“I wish it was a joke,” Kyle muttered. “But it’s real.”

Bucky scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning back. “If it is, then good.”

Kyle blinked. “Good? You’re joking, right? Twenty-nine people were admitted to the hospital last night.”

Bucky’s gaze didn’t waver. “Good. I've been trying to clean out that bloodsucking department for years. They're toxic, slow, and arrogant. Half of them think they run this company. Maybe now they'll shut up.”

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh god...”

Bucky raised a brow. “There were supposed to be thirty people, including the intern. Why is the count only twenty-nine?”

“One of them didn’t show up,” Kyle replied, swiping through his screen. “Or maybe she wasn’t invited. Probably the same one they suspected was being bullied.”

At that, Bucky’s face tightened.

“The bullied one?” His voice dropped, low and sharp. “And no one thought to warn me?”

Kyle nodded. “Yes. That’s what I was told.”

Bucky leaned forward, jaw clenched. “I’ve been asking H.R. for weeks for an update. They keep giving me the runaround. I don’t even know her name!”

“She canceled her statement,” Kyle said, tapping his tablet. “But this is the person who filed with H.R. before backing out.”

He handed Bucky the screen.

Bucky took one look at the photo—and froze.

His face went still. No words. Just quiet, cold fury building behind his eyes. His hand gripped the tablet a little too tightly.

Kyle watched carefully. “You okay?”

Bucky didn’t answer.

He just kept staring at the photo.

And in that silence, the air inside the car grew heavier.

He wasn’t just angry.

He was about to get involved.

🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢

Back at the office, you were the only one who came in.

The silence was almost peaceful. You hummed a light tune, your fingers dancing across the keyboard as you typed—line by line—a resignation letter.

It was time. Levi deserved better. A company that didn’t treat her like trash. Not this toxic circus masked as a professional environment.

You clicked ‘Print’, and just as the printer began to whir, your phone rang.

“Yeah, Mom?” you answered casually, leaning back in your chair.

Your mother’s voice was calm but firm. “Your sister told me everything”

You sighed. “I’ve handled it.”

“They cry in pain?”

“Choked in their tears,” you said with a smirk, watching the printer spit out the paper.

“Good.” A pause. “Do you need a lawyer? I have a lot of friends whose husbands are great lawyers.”

You chuckled. “No, Mom. Everything’s under control.”

“Good job, baby.”

"Is Dad at home?" you asked.

"He’s still on a trip with his friends," your mom replied.

"What if he finds out about Levi?"

"Only God knows, honey."

You picked up the resignation letter and glanced at Levi’s name at the top. “This will be my last day… or should I say, ‘Levi’s’ last day. I’ve already printed the resignation letter.”

“No, dear! Don’t give the letter,” your mother said suddenly.

You paused, frowning. “Why not?”

“Because—”

She didn’t finish.

You froze mid-step.

Two figures walked into the department.

You turned your head slowly, eyes widening as you saw who it was.

Your hand, still holding the letter, trembled slightly.

Of all people…

'What the hell are you doing here?'

*****

Yesterday, at the McCain House

The black SUV rolled quietly into the driveway. The engine cut off, and the passenger door opened. Ortiz stepped out first, then turned to help Levi out of the car. Her movements were slow, stiff. Casey gently supported her from the other side, guiding her carefully as if she might break.

Levi squinted at the familiar front porch, her expression puzzled.

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ortiz exchanged a glance with Casey before replying, “Captain said staying in the city would only stress you out more. The doctor agreed.”

Before Levi could respond, the sound of laughter echoed from inside the house—warm, bright, and unmistakably familiar. As they stepped through the front door, they saw Elle McCain, Levi’s mother, laughing with two of her friends in the sitting room.

Elle's eyes widened when she spotted her daughter.

“Levi? Honey?” she asked in surprise, setting her teacup down and rising to her feet.

Levi offered her mother a tired smile. “Hi, Mom. I just need some rest. We’ll talk later.” She didn’t wait for a reply and slowly made her way upstairs.

Elle blinked, clearly confused by her daughter’s sudden arrival and unusual demeanor. Her gaze shifted to the two people standing in the doorway.

“Ortiz. Casey.” Her tone softened, recognizing them instantly. “You two again. Have you eaten any home-cooked food since you got back?”

Both of them stood straighter. “No, ma’am,” they answered in unison.

“There’s pork ribs, mashed potatoes, peach cobbler, and iced tea in the kitchen,” Elle said with a knowing smile.

The moment she listed the food, both Ortiz and Casey's stomachs practically growled in unison.

“Thank you, ma’am!” they said quickly and hurried off toward the kitchen.

Elle waited patiently until her friends left later that evening. Once the house was quiet again, she climbed the stairs and gently knocked on Levi’s door. No response. She opened it slowly and stepped inside.

Levi was curled up on the bed, wrapped tightly in a blanket pulled over her head like a cocoon. The only thing visible was the slight rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed.

Elle walked to the bed and sat on the edge, then carefully pulled the blanket down from Levi’s face.

The sight broke her heart.

Levi’s face was pale and gaunt. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes sunken. Her once-vibrant presence was now drained and brittle.

“My daughter…” Elle whispered, her voice catching. “What happened to you?”

Levi turned her head away, unable to meet her mother’s eyes.

Elle placed a hand on Levi’s shoulder, gentle but firm. “Does your sister know? Is that why her friends brought you here?”

Levi gave a slow nod, her eyes brimming with tears.

Elle stood abruptly. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath. “Who did this to you?”

Levi hesitated, then whispered, “It’s a long story.”

Elle crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got all night.”

Levi sighed, knowing she couldn’t avoid this. So she began to speak. Slowly at first, then all at once. She told her mother everything—what she endured at the company, how the bullying escalated, how she lost weight, sleep, confidence. How she tried to tough it out. And how her sister—impulsive, fearless—took matters into her own hands.

It took Elle a long moment to fully grasp it all.

“So... your sister is pretending to be you. She’s working at the company. In your place.”

Levi nodded again.

Elle’s expression darkened. “Good. Let them taste hell.”

“Mom…” Levi said gently.

Elle sat down again beside her daughter. “Honey, you’re a smart kid. Why the hell did you stay in that toxic place for so long?”

“That place gave me a lot of benefits,” Levi murmured. “And I had a friend there…”

Elle narrowed her eyes. “A friend? You stayed because of someone?”

Levi nodded slowly. “I wanted to work beside him.”

Elle’s voice lowered. “Who is this person?”

Levi hesitated, her voice trembling just slightly. “He’s…”

*****

Back to the present time…

You froze.

The two figures who stepped into the department caught you mid-sentence with your mother. You slowly lowered your phone, your eyes widening in disbelief.

Standing there was someone you hadn’t seen in years—but you'd recognize him anywhere. Tall, sharp-featured, with piercing blue eyes and hair swept back like he always used to wear it.

James Buchanan Barnes.

He stepped closer, concern etched into every line of his face.

“Levi?” His voice was softer now—gentler than you remembered. “I’m sorry I’m too late. Are you alright?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your voice. “Yeah… yeah.”

But you weren’t. Not really.

Your heart pounded in your chest like it was trying to break free. You hadn't seen Bucky in what felt like a lifetime. Not since high school. And back then, you and Levi had shared more than just the same face—you shared the same crush.

You both liked the same food—steak medium rare with garlic butter. You listened to the same music—acoustic rock. You even loved the same person.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky looked at you—really looked. “I should’ve found out sooner,” he said, his jaw tightening. “I had no idea what was going on in this department. The H.R. covered it up… and the manager too. They knew we knew each other. That’s why they hid it.”

You blinked. “You knew?”

“I recognized your name the first time it landed on my desk,” he admitted. “But I thought maybe I was just imagining things. Until Kyle told me what really happened.”

You nodded slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. Of course Levi never wanted to quit. Was it because… of him?

Your chest tightened.

Bucky took a breath and stepped closer. “You don’t have to work in this department anymore. Starting today, you’ll be my assistant.”

That’s when your heart really started to race.

It beat so fast, you were sure Bucky could hear it. Was this what it felt like… meeting your long-time crush again after all these years?

But it wasn’t your name he’d said with such warmth. It was Levi’s.

You weren’t just standing in someone else’s department. You were standing in someone else’s shoes. And it hit you harder than you expected.

You swallowed down the sudden tightness in your chest. Why did your chest feel tight? It was just a high school crush—a long time ago.

You glanced down, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck.

‘Alright, Levi…’ you thought. ‘I’ll stay. I’ll hold the door open for you—so you can finally be with Bucky.’

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[starsofcloud]

Wait wait wait… so both sisters liked Bucky?? This is gonna get messy 😬

I love how the mom didn’t even hesitate. ‘Good. Do you need a lawyer?’ ICONIC.

Her Turn Now - 2

Character: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Twin sisters. Opposite worlds. The eldest is a tough, no-nonsense soldier. The youngest is a quiet, hardworking corporate girl. They rarely meet—until the younger sister collapses from stress, hiding months of workplace bullying.

Furious and protective, the soldier twin trades places with her. Heels off, boots on. Now, the office has no idea what's coming.

She doesn’t play nice. She doesn’t play fair. And while she's serving justice in a pencil skirt, the ruthless CEO starts to take notice…

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , -

Working in an office really doesn't suit you.

In battle, things are simple. When someone annoys you, you shut them up—with a fist or a boot to the face. Problem solved. But here?

Here, you’re surrounded by high heels, fake smiles, and the sharp click-clack of keyboards... and every single sound grates your nerves.

You grit your teeth, nails tapping against the desk, fists clenched under the table just to stop yourself from punching someone in the throat. You’ve only been here two hours, and already, you’re planning five different ways to commit corporate homicide.

Your respect for Levi just skyrocketed. Eight months she endured this hell? You can barely last one morning.

'Should you? Yes, you can.' 'Lock the door. Grab the stapler. Use the pencil. There are weapons everywhere.'

That little voice in your head sounds far too convincing. If it were the real you—Captain McCain—you’d be halfway through your rampage by now. But no. You're Levi now.

And if Levi McCain loses her cool? That delicate record she’s worked so hard to build will shatter.

Just then, a thick stack of papers lands on your desk with a loud thwack. You glance up. Some guy—you don’t even know his name—doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking like you’re invisible.

"What the hell is this?" you mutter under your breath.

Another assignment. Charts. Reports. Forecast analysis? You squint at the spreadsheet like it’s in another language. Honestly, it might as well be.

They're piling it on, testing you. You've been here two hours, and already they’ve dumped more work on your desk than a full week’s load.

You inhale slowly. Count to five. Calm. You’re supposed to be Levi. Quiet. Polite. Fragile. Yeah, right.

But you didn’t come into this unarmed. Oh no. You came with a secret weapon.

Thanks to Casey.

The night before your little infiltration mission, she handed you a sleek tablet loaded with a custom AI system she’s been tinkering with.

"You’re a genius in combat, boss. Not in spreadsheets," she said with a smirk. "I built this so you can focus on wrecking those bastards emotionally instead."

So while everyone else thinks you’re slaving over numbers, you're calmly sipping your coffee and letting Casey’s AI handle the data analysis.

Now, with zero hesitation, you lift the freshly completed reports and toss them right back at the guy’s desk with a smooth flick of your wrist.

He freezes, staring at the documents like you just performed black magic.

Around the office, heads start turning. Whispers ripple through the floor like electricity.

'How did she finish that so fast?' 'Wasn’t that supposed to take a day?' 'Did she make any mistakes?'

You lean back in your chair, legs crossed, eyes sharp. You don’t say a word. Just stare at them all like a predator in disguise.

Let them wonder. Let them whisper.

You’re just getting started.

You weren’t made for this world of polite requests and passive-aggressive comments—and you’re done pretending.

When someone dumps files on your desk and tells you to print them, you don’t even look up.

“Do it yourself. The printer’s right on your table.”

Another, bolder one strolls over, holding out a coffee order list.

“Buy some for the team, will you? Get that caramel thing we like.”

You raise a brow and don’t even break stride as you type, voice flat and sharp.

“Try Uber Eats. Or your own damn legs.”

They blink, stunned, as you go back to work like the conversation never happened.

Lunch hour can’t come fast enough. You head down to the building’s park—if you don’t get some air, you might actually kill someone.

You sit on the bench, arms crossed, legs tense. The sun is warm, but your mood is ice. Your jaw still clenched tight.

Then you hear it—laughter.

Voices carry across the grass. Familiar ones.

You glance to your left.

A group of men are huddled in the smoking area—coworkers from your department. Laughing, puffing away, basking in their own stink. You recognize the manager too.

You stay still. Listen.

One of them exhales smoke and scoffs.

“Can’t believe Levi came in today. What’s she trying to prove, showing up now?”

Another snickers.

“Yeah, like she belongs at the celebration. After everything? Please.”

The manager—Levi’s direct boss—chimes in, laughing low and mean.

“She probably thought we’d be happy to see her. Delusional.”

The first guy adds, “Well, no one tell her where we’re going tonight, alright?”

Another laughs. “As if she’s invited. The restaurant doesn’t take extras anyway.”

And then—what finally makes your blood boil—

“If she hadn’t flagged that budget error last quarter, we’d have had bigger bonuses. What a buzzkill. Should’ve just kept her mouth shut.”

Silence hits your chest like a gut punch.

Your hands ball into fists on your lap.

So that’s how they talk about her. About Levi. After all her quiet effort. Her eight months of biting her tongue, holding back, working herself into the ground.

You don’t move. You don’t breathe. You sit there until they finish their smokes and saunter off, laughing like nothing happened.

When they’re gone, you finally exhale—and realize your hands are trembling. One still clutches your phone.

You hit speed dial.

“Yeah, boss?” Casey answers, casual as always.

You look up at the sky. Your voice is calm. Too calm.

“Prepare a runaway car. Gloves. Face mask. And night vision goggles.”

Casey pauses.

“…Do you need a lawyer too?”

You let out a slow breath.

“I don’t think I’ll need it. But yeah, just in case.”

You hang up.

No more playing nice.

They wanted Levi to stay quiet. Big mistake. They got you instead.

💥💥💥💥

The restaurant was packed—but only with them. Levi’s entire department had booked the place for a night of fake smiles and undeserved celebration. Laughter rang loud. Glasses clinked. Wine flowed freely.

The manager, drunk on his own ego, stood up and raised his glass. “To us—the real backbone of this company!”

Cheers followed. Forced. Loud. Hollow.

Then— Darkness.

The lights went out without warning.

A beat of silence. Confused murmurs.

“Probably just for a while,” someone said, chuckling nervously.

Then— “Uhk!”

A rough, strangled sound.

“Sounded like a duck getting choked,” the manager joked, and the room erupted in laughter.

But the laughter didn’t last.

It was replaced by chaos.

A chair crashed to the floor. A plate shattered. A man screamed. Another was silenced mid-sentence by a punch to the gut.

One by one, they dropped.

No warning. No mercy. Male. Female. Coworker. Manager. None of them were spared.

They didn’t even see who hit them.

Fists, elbows, knees—precise and brutal. The air filled with the sound of bodies slamming into tables, glass crunching beneath shoes, and groans of disbelief.

The manager took the worst of it. A swift kick to the chest sent him straight into the dessert table. A metal tray slammed across his face. His hands scrambled for cover that didn’t exist.

By the end, the room was wrecked. People groaned and whimpered in the dark, crawling, gasping, too stunned to react.

Only one person walked out untouched.

Calm steps. Back straight. Breath steady. No fear. No remorse.

As you stepped past the broken chaos, your thoughts were razor-sharp.

'Karma takes her sweet time… So I gave her a hand.'

🏢🏢🏢🏢

The Next Morning

A sleek black sedan sat idling on the curb. The tinted windows reflected the city skyline, but inside, the air was tense.

In the back seat, Bucky Barnes—CEO, sharp-suited and sharp-jawed—sat in silence. His dark eyes were unreadable as he glanced out the window. His posture was relaxed, but his fingers drummed lightly against his thigh. A storm brewed behind that calm exterior.

“I thought you were joking when you called me,” Bucky finally said, voice low and cool.

He had just landed from London, where he’d been in talks with a major international partner. The time difference and chaos hadn’t fazed him—what did was the reason for the call.

Kyle, his vice president, sat beside him. Unlike Bucky, Kyle looked restless, flicking through files on his tablet.

“I wish it was a joke,” Kyle muttered. “But it’s real.”

Bucky scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning back. “If it is, then good.”

Kyle blinked. “Good? You’re joking, right? Twenty-nine people were admitted to the hospital last night.”

Bucky’s gaze didn’t waver. “Good. I've been trying to clean out that bloodsucking department for years. They're toxic, slow, and arrogant. Half of them think they run this company. Maybe now they'll shut up.”

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh god...”

Bucky raised a brow. “There were supposed to be thirty people, including the intern. Why is the count only twenty-nine?”

“One of them didn’t show up,” Kyle replied, swiping through his screen. “Or maybe she wasn’t invited. Probably the same one they suspected was being bullied.”

At that, Bucky’s face tightened.

“The bullied one?” His voice dropped, low and sharp. “And no one thought to warn me?”

Kyle nodded. “Yes. That’s what I was told.”

Bucky leaned forward, jaw clenched. “I’ve been asking H.R. for weeks for an update. They keep giving me the runaround. I don’t even know her name!”

“She canceled her statement,” Kyle said, tapping his tablet. “But this is the person who filed with H.R. before backing out.”

He handed Bucky the screen.

Bucky took one look at the photo—and froze.

His face went still. No words. Just quiet, cold fury building behind his eyes. His hand gripped the tablet a little too tightly.

Kyle watched carefully. “You okay?”

Bucky didn’t answer.

He just kept staring at the photo.

And in that silence, the air inside the car grew heavier.

He wasn’t just angry.

He was about to get involved.

🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢

Back at the office, you were the only one who came in.

The silence was almost peaceful. You hummed a light tune, your fingers dancing across the keyboard as you typed—line by line—a resignation letter.

It was time. Levi deserved better. A company that didn’t treat her like trash. Not this toxic circus masked as a professional environment.

You clicked ‘Print’, and just as the printer began to whir, your phone rang.

“Yeah, Mom?” you answered casually, leaning back in your chair.

Your mother’s voice was calm but firm. “Your sister told me everything”

You sighed. “I’ve handled it.”

“They cry in pain?”

“Choked in their tears,” you said with a smirk, watching the printer spit out the paper.

“Good.” A pause. “Do you need a lawyer? I have a lot of friends whose husbands are great lawyers.”

You chuckled. “No, Mom. Everything’s under control.”

“Good job, baby.”

"Is Dad at home?" you asked.

"He’s still on a trip with his friends," your mom replied.

"What if he finds out about Levi?"

"Only God knows, honey."

You picked up the resignation letter and glanced at Levi’s name at the top. “This will be my last day… or should I say, ‘Levi’s’ last day. I’ve already printed the resignation letter.”

“No, dear! Don’t give the letter,” your mother said suddenly.

You paused, frowning. “Why not?”

“Because—”

She didn’t finish.

You froze mid-step.

Two figures walked into the department.

You turned your head slowly, eyes widening as you saw who it was.

Your hand, still holding the letter, trembled slightly.

Of all people…

'What the hell are you doing here?'

*****

Yesterday, at the McCain House

The black SUV rolled quietly into the driveway. The engine cut off, and the passenger door opened. Ortiz stepped out first, then turned to help Levi out of the car. Her movements were slow, stiff. Casey gently supported her from the other side, guiding her carefully as if she might break.

Levi squinted at the familiar front porch, her expression puzzled.

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ortiz exchanged a glance with Casey before replying, “Captain said staying in the city would only stress you out more. The doctor agreed.”

Before Levi could respond, the sound of laughter echoed from inside the house—warm, bright, and unmistakably familiar. As they stepped through the front door, they saw Elle McCain, Levi’s mother, laughing with two of her friends in the sitting room.

Elle's eyes widened when she spotted her daughter.

“Levi? Honey?” she asked in surprise, setting her teacup down and rising to her feet.

Levi offered her mother a tired smile. “Hi, Mom. I just need some rest. We’ll talk later.” She didn’t wait for a reply and slowly made her way upstairs.

Elle blinked, clearly confused by her daughter’s sudden arrival and unusual demeanor. Her gaze shifted to the two people standing in the doorway.

“Ortiz. Casey.” Her tone softened, recognizing them instantly. “You two again. Have you eaten any home-cooked food since you got back?”

Both of them stood straighter. “No, ma’am,” they answered in unison.

“There’s pork ribs, mashed potatoes, peach cobbler, and iced tea in the kitchen,” Elle said with a knowing smile.

The moment she listed the food, both Ortiz and Casey's stomachs practically growled in unison.

“Thank you, ma’am!” they said quickly and hurried off toward the kitchen.

Elle waited patiently until her friends left later that evening. Once the house was quiet again, she climbed the stairs and gently knocked on Levi’s door. No response. She opened it slowly and stepped inside.

Levi was curled up on the bed, wrapped tightly in a blanket pulled over her head like a cocoon. The only thing visible was the slight rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed.

Elle walked to the bed and sat on the edge, then carefully pulled the blanket down from Levi’s face.

The sight broke her heart.

Levi’s face was pale and gaunt. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes sunken. Her once-vibrant presence was now drained and brittle.

“My daughter…” Elle whispered, her voice catching. “What happened to you?”

Levi turned her head away, unable to meet her mother’s eyes.

Elle placed a hand on Levi’s shoulder, gentle but firm. “Does your sister know? Is that why her friends brought you here?”

Levi gave a slow nod, her eyes brimming with tears.

Elle stood abruptly. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath. “Who did this to you?”

Levi hesitated, then whispered, “It’s a long story.”

Elle crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got all night.”

Levi sighed, knowing she couldn’t avoid this. So she began to speak. Slowly at first, then all at once. She told her mother everything—what she endured at the company, how the bullying escalated, how she lost weight, sleep, confidence. How she tried to tough it out. And how her sister—impulsive, fearless—took matters into her own hands.

It took Elle a long moment to fully grasp it all.

“So... your sister is pretending to be you. She’s working at the company. In your place.”

Levi nodded again.

Elle’s expression darkened. “Good. Let them taste hell.”

“Mom…” Levi said gently.

Elle sat down again beside her daughter. “Honey, you’re a smart kid. Why the hell did you stay in that toxic place for so long?”

“That place gave me a lot of benefits,” Levi murmured. “And I had a friend there…”

Elle narrowed her eyes. “A friend? You stayed because of someone?”

Levi nodded slowly. “I wanted to work beside him.”

Elle’s voice lowered. “Who is this person?”

Levi hesitated, her voice trembling just slightly. “He’s…”

*****

Back to the present time…

You froze.

The two figures who stepped into the department caught you mid-sentence with your mother. You slowly lowered your phone, your eyes widening in disbelief.

Standing there was someone you hadn’t seen in years—but you'd recognize him anywhere. Tall, sharp-featured, with piercing blue eyes and hair swept back like he always used to wear it.

James Buchanan Barnes.

He stepped closer, concern etched into every line of his face.

“Levi?” His voice was softer now—gentler than you remembered. “I’m sorry I’m too late. Are you alright?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your voice. “Yeah… yeah.”

But you weren’t. Not really.

Your heart pounded in your chest like it was trying to break free. You hadn't seen Bucky in what felt like a lifetime. Not since high school. And back then, you and Levi had shared more than just the same face—you shared the same crush.

You both liked the same food—steak medium rare with garlic butter. You listened to the same music—acoustic rock. You even loved the same person.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky looked at you—really looked. “I should’ve found out sooner,” he said, his jaw tightening. “I had no idea what was going on in this department. The H.R. covered it up… and the manager too. They knew we knew each other. That’s why they hid it.”

You blinked. “You knew?”

“I recognized your name the first time it landed on my desk,” he admitted. “But I thought maybe I was just imagining things. Until Kyle told me what really happened.”

You nodded slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. Of course Levi never wanted to quit. Was it because… of him?

Your chest tightened.

Bucky took a breath and stepped closer. “You don’t have to work in this department anymore. Starting today, you’ll be my assistant.”

That’s when your heart really started to race.

It beat so fast, you were sure Bucky could hear it. Was this what it felt like… meeting your long-time crush again after all these years?

But it wasn’t your name he’d said with such warmth. It was Levi’s.

You weren’t just standing in someone else’s department. You were standing in someone else’s shoes. And it hit you harder than you expected.

You swallowed down the sudden tightness in your chest. Why did your chest feel tight? It was just a high school crush—a long time ago.

You glanced down, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck.

‘Alright, Levi…’ you thought. ‘I’ll stay. I’ll hold the door open for you—so you can finally be with Bucky.’

My book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing are on Kindle. Check it out!

Link for Arrogant Ex-Husband

Amazon.com

Link for Dad I Can't Let You Go

Amazon.com: Dad, I Can't Let You Go eBook : Bing, Alina C.: Kindle Store

[deliciousangelfestival]

Honestly? Same. I wanted to throw hands as I typed 😤

You’re absolutely right. Twin love triangle? Say less 🫣

Her Turn Now - 2

Character: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Twin sisters. Opposite worlds. The eldest is a tough, no-nonsense soldier. The youngest is a quiet, hardworking corporate girl. They rarely meet—until the younger sister collapses from stress, hiding months of workplace bullying.

Furious and protective, the soldier twin trades places with her. Heels off, boots on. Now, the office has no idea what's coming.

She doesn’t play nice. She doesn’t play fair. And while she's serving justice in a pencil skirt, the ruthless CEO starts to take notice…

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , -

Working in an office really doesn't suit you.

In battle, things are simple. When someone annoys you, you shut them up—with a fist or a boot to the face. Problem solved. But here?

Here, you’re surrounded by high heels, fake smiles, and the sharp click-clack of keyboards... and every single sound grates your nerves.

You grit your teeth, nails tapping against the desk, fists clenched under the table just to stop yourself from punching someone in the throat. You’ve only been here two hours, and already, you’re planning five different ways to commit corporate homicide.

Your respect for Levi just skyrocketed. Eight months she endured this hell? You can barely last one morning.

'Should you? Yes, you can.' 'Lock the door. Grab the stapler. Use the pencil. There are weapons everywhere.'

That little voice in your head sounds far too convincing. If it were the real you—Captain McCain—you’d be halfway through your rampage by now. But no. You're Levi now.

And if Levi McCain loses her cool? That delicate record she’s worked so hard to build will shatter.

Just then, a thick stack of papers lands on your desk with a loud thwack. You glance up. Some guy—you don’t even know his name—doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking like you’re invisible.

"What the hell is this?" you mutter under your breath.

Another assignment. Charts. Reports. Forecast analysis? You squint at the spreadsheet like it’s in another language. Honestly, it might as well be.

They're piling it on, testing you. You've been here two hours, and already they’ve dumped more work on your desk than a full week’s load.

You inhale slowly. Count to five. Calm. You’re supposed to be Levi. Quiet. Polite. Fragile. Yeah, right.

But you didn’t come into this unarmed. Oh no. You came with a secret weapon.

Thanks to Casey.

The night before your little infiltration mission, she handed you a sleek tablet loaded with a custom AI system she’s been tinkering with.

"You’re a genius in combat, boss. Not in spreadsheets," she said with a smirk. "I built this so you can focus on wrecking those bastards emotionally instead."

So while everyone else thinks you’re slaving over numbers, you're calmly sipping your coffee and letting Casey’s AI handle the data analysis.

Now, with zero hesitation, you lift the freshly completed reports and toss them right back at the guy’s desk with a smooth flick of your wrist.

He freezes, staring at the documents like you just performed black magic.

Around the office, heads start turning. Whispers ripple through the floor like electricity.

'How did she finish that so fast?' 'Wasn’t that supposed to take a day?' 'Did she make any mistakes?'

You lean back in your chair, legs crossed, eyes sharp. You don’t say a word. Just stare at them all like a predator in disguise.

Let them wonder. Let them whisper.

You’re just getting started.

You weren’t made for this world of polite requests and passive-aggressive comments—and you’re done pretending.

When someone dumps files on your desk and tells you to print them, you don’t even look up.

“Do it yourself. The printer’s right on your table.”

Another, bolder one strolls over, holding out a coffee order list.

“Buy some for the team, will you? Get that caramel thing we like.”

You raise a brow and don’t even break stride as you type, voice flat and sharp.

“Try Uber Eats. Or your own damn legs.”

They blink, stunned, as you go back to work like the conversation never happened.

Lunch hour can’t come fast enough. You head down to the building’s park—if you don’t get some air, you might actually kill someone.

You sit on the bench, arms crossed, legs tense. The sun is warm, but your mood is ice. Your jaw still clenched tight.

Then you hear it—laughter.

Voices carry across the grass. Familiar ones.

You glance to your left.

A group of men are huddled in the smoking area—coworkers from your department. Laughing, puffing away, basking in their own stink. You recognize the manager too.

You stay still. Listen.

One of them exhales smoke and scoffs.

“Can’t believe Levi came in today. What’s she trying to prove, showing up now?”

Another snickers.

“Yeah, like she belongs at the celebration. After everything? Please.”

The manager—Levi’s direct boss—chimes in, laughing low and mean.

“She probably thought we’d be happy to see her. Delusional.”

The first guy adds, “Well, no one tell her where we’re going tonight, alright?”

Another laughs. “As if she’s invited. The restaurant doesn’t take extras anyway.”

And then—what finally makes your blood boil—

“If she hadn’t flagged that budget error last quarter, we’d have had bigger bonuses. What a buzzkill. Should’ve just kept her mouth shut.”

Silence hits your chest like a gut punch.

Your hands ball into fists on your lap.

So that’s how they talk about her. About Levi. After all her quiet effort. Her eight months of biting her tongue, holding back, working herself into the ground.

You don’t move. You don’t breathe. You sit there until they finish their smokes and saunter off, laughing like nothing happened.

When they’re gone, you finally exhale—and realize your hands are trembling. One still clutches your phone.

You hit speed dial.

“Yeah, boss?” Casey answers, casual as always.

You look up at the sky. Your voice is calm. Too calm.

“Prepare a runaway car. Gloves. Face mask. And night vision goggles.”

Casey pauses.

“…Do you need a lawyer too?”

You let out a slow breath.

“I don’t think I’ll need it. But yeah, just in case.”

You hang up.

No more playing nice.

They wanted Levi to stay quiet. Big mistake. They got you instead.

💥💥💥💥

The restaurant was packed—but only with them. Levi’s entire department had booked the place for a night of fake smiles and undeserved celebration. Laughter rang loud. Glasses clinked. Wine flowed freely.

The manager, drunk on his own ego, stood up and raised his glass. “To us—the real backbone of this company!”

Cheers followed. Forced. Loud. Hollow.

Then— Darkness.

The lights went out without warning.

A beat of silence. Confused murmurs.

“Probably just for a while,” someone said, chuckling nervously.

Then— “Uhk!”

A rough, strangled sound.

“Sounded like a duck getting choked,” the manager joked, and the room erupted in laughter.

But the laughter didn’t last.

It was replaced by chaos.

A chair crashed to the floor. A plate shattered. A man screamed. Another was silenced mid-sentence by a punch to the gut.

One by one, they dropped.

No warning. No mercy. Male. Female. Coworker. Manager. None of them were spared.

They didn’t even see who hit them.

Fists, elbows, knees—precise and brutal. The air filled with the sound of bodies slamming into tables, glass crunching beneath shoes, and groans of disbelief.

The manager took the worst of it. A swift kick to the chest sent him straight into the dessert table. A metal tray slammed across his face. His hands scrambled for cover that didn’t exist.

By the end, the room was wrecked. People groaned and whimpered in the dark, crawling, gasping, too stunned to react.

Only one person walked out untouched.

Calm steps. Back straight. Breath steady. No fear. No remorse.

As you stepped past the broken chaos, your thoughts were razor-sharp.

'Karma takes her sweet time… So I gave her a hand.'

🏢🏢🏢🏢

The Next Morning

A sleek black sedan sat idling on the curb. The tinted windows reflected the city skyline, but inside, the air was tense.

In the back seat, Bucky Barnes—CEO, sharp-suited and sharp-jawed—sat in silence. His dark eyes were unreadable as he glanced out the window. His posture was relaxed, but his fingers drummed lightly against his thigh. A storm brewed behind that calm exterior.

“I thought you were joking when you called me,” Bucky finally said, voice low and cool.

He had just landed from London, where he’d been in talks with a major international partner. The time difference and chaos hadn’t fazed him—what did was the reason for the call.

Kyle, his vice president, sat beside him. Unlike Bucky, Kyle looked restless, flicking through files on his tablet.

“I wish it was a joke,” Kyle muttered. “But it’s real.”

Bucky scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning back. “If it is, then good.”

Kyle blinked. “Good? You’re joking, right? Twenty-nine people were admitted to the hospital last night.”

Bucky’s gaze didn’t waver. “Good. I've been trying to clean out that bloodsucking department for years. They're toxic, slow, and arrogant. Half of them think they run this company. Maybe now they'll shut up.”

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh god...”

Bucky raised a brow. “There were supposed to be thirty people, including the intern. Why is the count only twenty-nine?”

“One of them didn’t show up,” Kyle replied, swiping through his screen. “Or maybe she wasn’t invited. Probably the same one they suspected was being bullied.”

At that, Bucky’s face tightened.

“The bullied one?” His voice dropped, low and sharp. “And no one thought to warn me?”

Kyle nodded. “Yes. That’s what I was told.”

Bucky leaned forward, jaw clenched. “I’ve been asking H.R. for weeks for an update. They keep giving me the runaround. I don’t even know her name!”

“She canceled her statement,” Kyle said, tapping his tablet. “But this is the person who filed with H.R. before backing out.”

He handed Bucky the screen.

Bucky took one look at the photo—and froze.

His face went still. No words. Just quiet, cold fury building behind his eyes. His hand gripped the tablet a little too tightly.

Kyle watched carefully. “You okay?”

Bucky didn’t answer.

He just kept staring at the photo.

And in that silence, the air inside the car grew heavier.

He wasn’t just angry.

He was about to get involved.

🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢

Back at the office, you were the only one who came in.

The silence was almost peaceful. You hummed a light tune, your fingers dancing across the keyboard as you typed—line by line—a resignation letter.

It was time. Levi deserved better. A company that didn’t treat her like trash. Not this toxic circus masked as a professional environment.

You clicked ‘Print’, and just as the printer began to whir, your phone rang.

“Yeah, Mom?” you answered casually, leaning back in your chair.

Your mother’s voice was calm but firm. “Your sister told me everything”

You sighed. “I’ve handled it.”

“They cry in pain?”

“Choked in their tears,” you said with a smirk, watching the printer spit out the paper.

“Good.” A pause. “Do you need a lawyer? I have a lot of friends whose husbands are great lawyers.”

You chuckled. “No, Mom. Everything’s under control.”

“Good job, baby.”

"Is Dad at home?" you asked.

"He’s still on a trip with his friends," your mom replied.

"What if he finds out about Levi?"

"Only God knows, honey."

You picked up the resignation letter and glanced at Levi’s name at the top. “This will be my last day… or should I say, ‘Levi’s’ last day. I’ve already printed the resignation letter.”

“No, dear! Don’t give the letter,” your mother said suddenly.

You paused, frowning. “Why not?”

“Because—”

She didn’t finish.

You froze mid-step.

Two figures walked into the department.

You turned your head slowly, eyes widening as you saw who it was.

Your hand, still holding the letter, trembled slightly.

Of all people…

'What the hell are you doing here?'

*****

Yesterday, at the McCain House

The black SUV rolled quietly into the driveway. The engine cut off, and the passenger door opened. Ortiz stepped out first, then turned to help Levi out of the car. Her movements were slow, stiff. Casey gently supported her from the other side, guiding her carefully as if she might break.

Levi squinted at the familiar front porch, her expression puzzled.

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ortiz exchanged a glance with Casey before replying, “Captain said staying in the city would only stress you out more. The doctor agreed.”

Before Levi could respond, the sound of laughter echoed from inside the house—warm, bright, and unmistakably familiar. As they stepped through the front door, they saw Elle McCain, Levi’s mother, laughing with two of her friends in the sitting room.

Elle's eyes widened when she spotted her daughter.

“Levi? Honey?” she asked in surprise, setting her teacup down and rising to her feet.

Levi offered her mother a tired smile. “Hi, Mom. I just need some rest. We’ll talk later.” She didn’t wait for a reply and slowly made her way upstairs.

Elle blinked, clearly confused by her daughter’s sudden arrival and unusual demeanor. Her gaze shifted to the two people standing in the doorway.

“Ortiz. Casey.” Her tone softened, recognizing them instantly. “You two again. Have you eaten any home-cooked food since you got back?”

Both of them stood straighter. “No, ma’am,” they answered in unison.

“There’s pork ribs, mashed potatoes, peach cobbler, and iced tea in the kitchen,” Elle said with a knowing smile.

The moment she listed the food, both Ortiz and Casey's stomachs practically growled in unison.

“Thank you, ma’am!” they said quickly and hurried off toward the kitchen.

Elle waited patiently until her friends left later that evening. Once the house was quiet again, she climbed the stairs and gently knocked on Levi’s door. No response. She opened it slowly and stepped inside.

Levi was curled up on the bed, wrapped tightly in a blanket pulled over her head like a cocoon. The only thing visible was the slight rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed.

Elle walked to the bed and sat on the edge, then carefully pulled the blanket down from Levi’s face.

The sight broke her heart.

Levi’s face was pale and gaunt. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes sunken. Her once-vibrant presence was now drained and brittle.

“My daughter…” Elle whispered, her voice catching. “What happened to you?”

Levi turned her head away, unable to meet her mother’s eyes.

Elle placed a hand on Levi’s shoulder, gentle but firm. “Does your sister know? Is that why her friends brought you here?”

Levi gave a slow nod, her eyes brimming with tears.

Elle stood abruptly. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath. “Who did this to you?”

Levi hesitated, then whispered, “It’s a long story.”

Elle crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got all night.”

Levi sighed, knowing she couldn’t avoid this. So she began to speak. Slowly at first, then all at once. She told her mother everything—what she endured at the company, how the bullying escalated, how she lost weight, sleep, confidence. How she tried to tough it out. And how her sister—impulsive, fearless—took matters into her own hands.

It took Elle a long moment to fully grasp it all.

“So... your sister is pretending to be you. She’s working at the company. In your place.”

Levi nodded again.

Elle’s expression darkened. “Good. Let them taste hell.”

“Mom…” Levi said gently.

Elle sat down again beside her daughter. “Honey, you’re a smart kid. Why the hell did you stay in that toxic place for so long?”

“That place gave me a lot of benefits,” Levi murmured. “And I had a friend there…”

Elle narrowed her eyes. “A friend? You stayed because of someone?”

Levi nodded slowly. “I wanted to work beside him.”

Elle’s voice lowered. “Who is this person?”

Levi hesitated, her voice trembling just slightly. “He’s…”

*****

Back to the present time…

You froze.

The two figures who stepped into the department caught you mid-sentence with your mother. You slowly lowered your phone, your eyes widening in disbelief.

Standing there was someone you hadn’t seen in years—but you'd recognize him anywhere. Tall, sharp-featured, with piercing blue eyes and hair swept back like he always used to wear it.

James Buchanan Barnes.

He stepped closer, concern etched into every line of his face.

“Levi?” His voice was softer now—gentler than you remembered. “I’m sorry I’m too late. Are you alright?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your voice. “Yeah… yeah.”

But you weren’t. Not really.

Your heart pounded in your chest like it was trying to break free. You hadn't seen Bucky in what felt like a lifetime. Not since high school. And back then, you and Levi had shared more than just the same face—you shared the same crush.

You both liked the same food—steak medium rare with garlic butter. You listened to the same music—acoustic rock. You even loved the same person.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky looked at you—really looked. “I should’ve found out sooner,” he said, his jaw tightening. “I had no idea what was going on in this department. The H.R. covered it up… and the manager too. They knew we knew each other. That’s why they hid it.”

You blinked. “You knew?”

“I recognized your name the first time it landed on my desk,” he admitted. “But I thought maybe I was just imagining things. Until Kyle told me what really happened.”

You nodded slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. Of course Levi never wanted to quit. Was it because… of him?

Your chest tightened.

Bucky took a breath and stepped closer. “You don’t have to work in this department anymore. Starting today, you’ll be my assistant.”

That’s when your heart really started to race.

It beat so fast, you were sure Bucky could hear it. Was this what it felt like… meeting your long-time crush again after all these years?

But it wasn’t your name he’d said with such warmth. It was Levi’s.

You weren’t just standing in someone else’s department. You were standing in someone else’s shoes. And it hit you harder than you expected.

You swallowed down the sudden tightness in your chest. Why did your chest feel tight? It was just a high school crush—a long time ago.

You glanced down, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck.

‘Alright, Levi…’ you thought. ‘I’ll stay. I’ll hold the door open for you—so you can finally be with Bucky.’

My book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing are on Kindle. Check it out!

Link for Arrogant Ex-Husband

Amazon.com

Link for Dad I Can't Let You Go

Amazon.com: Dad, I Can't Let You Go eBook : Bing, Alina C.: Kindle Store

[deliciousangelfestival]

Oh, you have no idea. Keep reading 😈

Elle McCain is the mom we all need. Protective, dangerous, and owns a peach cobbler recipe.

Her Turn Now - 2

Character: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Twin sisters. Opposite worlds. The eldest is a tough, no-nonsense soldier. The youngest is a quiet, hardworking corporate girl. They rarely meet—until the younger sister collapses from stress, hiding months of workplace bullying.

Furious and protective, the soldier twin trades places with her. Heels off, boots on. Now, the office has no idea what's coming.

She doesn’t play nice. She doesn’t play fair. And while she's serving justice in a pencil skirt, the ruthless CEO starts to take notice…

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , -

Working in an office really doesn't suit you.

In battle, things are simple. When someone annoys you, you shut them up—with a fist or a boot to the face. Problem solved. But here?

Here, you’re surrounded by high heels, fake smiles, and the sharp click-clack of keyboards... and every single sound grates your nerves.

You grit your teeth, nails tapping against the desk, fists clenched under the table just to stop yourself from punching someone in the throat. You’ve only been here two hours, and already, you’re planning five different ways to commit corporate homicide.

Your respect for Levi just skyrocketed. Eight months she endured this hell? You can barely last one morning.

'Should you? Yes, you can.' 'Lock the door. Grab the stapler. Use the pencil. There are weapons everywhere.'

That little voice in your head sounds far too convincing. If it were the real you—Captain McCain—you’d be halfway through your rampage by now. But no. You're Levi now.

And if Levi McCain loses her cool? That delicate record she’s worked so hard to build will shatter.

Just then, a thick stack of papers lands on your desk with a loud thwack. You glance up. Some guy—you don’t even know his name—doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking like you’re invisible.

"What the hell is this?" you mutter under your breath.

Another assignment. Charts. Reports. Forecast analysis? You squint at the spreadsheet like it’s in another language. Honestly, it might as well be.

They're piling it on, testing you. You've been here two hours, and already they’ve dumped more work on your desk than a full week’s load.

You inhale slowly. Count to five. Calm. You’re supposed to be Levi. Quiet. Polite. Fragile. Yeah, right.

But you didn’t come into this unarmed. Oh no. You came with a secret weapon.

Thanks to Casey.

The night before your little infiltration mission, she handed you a sleek tablet loaded with a custom AI system she’s been tinkering with.

"You’re a genius in combat, boss. Not in spreadsheets," she said with a smirk. "I built this so you can focus on wrecking those bastards emotionally instead."

So while everyone else thinks you’re slaving over numbers, you're calmly sipping your coffee and letting Casey’s AI handle the data analysis.

Now, with zero hesitation, you lift the freshly completed reports and toss them right back at the guy’s desk with a smooth flick of your wrist.

He freezes, staring at the documents like you just performed black magic.

Around the office, heads start turning. Whispers ripple through the floor like electricity.

'How did she finish that so fast?' 'Wasn’t that supposed to take a day?' 'Did she make any mistakes?'

You lean back in your chair, legs crossed, eyes sharp. You don’t say a word. Just stare at them all like a predator in disguise.

Let them wonder. Let them whisper.

You’re just getting started.

You weren’t made for this world of polite requests and passive-aggressive comments—and you’re done pretending.

When someone dumps files on your desk and tells you to print them, you don’t even look up.

“Do it yourself. The printer’s right on your table.”

Another, bolder one strolls over, holding out a coffee order list.

“Buy some for the team, will you? Get that caramel thing we like.”

You raise a brow and don’t even break stride as you type, voice flat and sharp.

“Try Uber Eats. Or your own damn legs.”

They blink, stunned, as you go back to work like the conversation never happened.

Lunch hour can’t come fast enough. You head down to the building’s park—if you don’t get some air, you might actually kill someone.

You sit on the bench, arms crossed, legs tense. The sun is warm, but your mood is ice. Your jaw still clenched tight.

Then you hear it—laughter.

Voices carry across the grass. Familiar ones.

You glance to your left.

A group of men are huddled in the smoking area—coworkers from your department. Laughing, puffing away, basking in their own stink. You recognize the manager too.

You stay still. Listen.

One of them exhales smoke and scoffs.

“Can’t believe Levi came in today. What’s she trying to prove, showing up now?”

Another snickers.

“Yeah, like she belongs at the celebration. After everything? Please.”

The manager—Levi’s direct boss—chimes in, laughing low and mean.

“She probably thought we’d be happy to see her. Delusional.”

The first guy adds, “Well, no one tell her where we’re going tonight, alright?”

Another laughs. “As if she’s invited. The restaurant doesn’t take extras anyway.”

And then—what finally makes your blood boil—

“If she hadn’t flagged that budget error last quarter, we’d have had bigger bonuses. What a buzzkill. Should’ve just kept her mouth shut.”

Silence hits your chest like a gut punch.

Your hands ball into fists on your lap.

So that’s how they talk about her. About Levi. After all her quiet effort. Her eight months of biting her tongue, holding back, working herself into the ground.

You don’t move. You don’t breathe. You sit there until they finish their smokes and saunter off, laughing like nothing happened.

When they’re gone, you finally exhale—and realize your hands are trembling. One still clutches your phone.

You hit speed dial.

“Yeah, boss?” Casey answers, casual as always.

You look up at the sky. Your voice is calm. Too calm.

“Prepare a runaway car. Gloves. Face mask. And night vision goggles.”

Casey pauses.

“…Do you need a lawyer too?”

You let out a slow breath.

“I don’t think I’ll need it. But yeah, just in case.”

You hang up.

No more playing nice.

They wanted Levi to stay quiet. Big mistake. They got you instead.

💥💥💥💥

The restaurant was packed—but only with them. Levi’s entire department had booked the place for a night of fake smiles and undeserved celebration. Laughter rang loud. Glasses clinked. Wine flowed freely.

The manager, drunk on his own ego, stood up and raised his glass. “To us—the real backbone of this company!”

Cheers followed. Forced. Loud. Hollow.

Then— Darkness.

The lights went out without warning.

A beat of silence. Confused murmurs.

“Probably just for a while,” someone said, chuckling nervously.

Then— “Uhk!”

A rough, strangled sound.

“Sounded like a duck getting choked,” the manager joked, and the room erupted in laughter.

But the laughter didn’t last.

It was replaced by chaos.

A chair crashed to the floor. A plate shattered. A man screamed. Another was silenced mid-sentence by a punch to the gut.

One by one, they dropped.

No warning. No mercy. Male. Female. Coworker. Manager. None of them were spared.

They didn’t even see who hit them.

Fists, elbows, knees—precise and brutal. The air filled with the sound of bodies slamming into tables, glass crunching beneath shoes, and groans of disbelief.

The manager took the worst of it. A swift kick to the chest sent him straight into the dessert table. A metal tray slammed across his face. His hands scrambled for cover that didn’t exist.

By the end, the room was wrecked. People groaned and whimpered in the dark, crawling, gasping, too stunned to react.

Only one person walked out untouched.

Calm steps. Back straight. Breath steady. No fear. No remorse.

As you stepped past the broken chaos, your thoughts were razor-sharp.

'Karma takes her sweet time… So I gave her a hand.'

🏢🏢🏢🏢

The Next Morning

A sleek black sedan sat idling on the curb. The tinted windows reflected the city skyline, but inside, the air was tense.

In the back seat, Bucky Barnes—CEO, sharp-suited and sharp-jawed—sat in silence. His dark eyes were unreadable as he glanced out the window. His posture was relaxed, but his fingers drummed lightly against his thigh. A storm brewed behind that calm exterior.

“I thought you were joking when you called me,” Bucky finally said, voice low and cool.

He had just landed from London, where he’d been in talks with a major international partner. The time difference and chaos hadn’t fazed him—what did was the reason for the call.

Kyle, his vice president, sat beside him. Unlike Bucky, Kyle looked restless, flicking through files on his tablet.

“I wish it was a joke,” Kyle muttered. “But it’s real.”

Bucky scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning back. “If it is, then good.”

Kyle blinked. “Good? You’re joking, right? Twenty-nine people were admitted to the hospital last night.”

Bucky’s gaze didn’t waver. “Good. I've been trying to clean out that bloodsucking department for years. They're toxic, slow, and arrogant. Half of them think they run this company. Maybe now they'll shut up.”

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh god...”

Bucky raised a brow. “There were supposed to be thirty people, including the intern. Why is the count only twenty-nine?”

“One of them didn’t show up,” Kyle replied, swiping through his screen. “Or maybe she wasn’t invited. Probably the same one they suspected was being bullied.”

At that, Bucky’s face tightened.

“The bullied one?” His voice dropped, low and sharp. “And no one thought to warn me?”

Kyle nodded. “Yes. That’s what I was told.”

Bucky leaned forward, jaw clenched. “I’ve been asking H.R. for weeks for an update. They keep giving me the runaround. I don’t even know her name!”

“She canceled her statement,” Kyle said, tapping his tablet. “But this is the person who filed with H.R. before backing out.”

He handed Bucky the screen.

Bucky took one look at the photo—and froze.

His face went still. No words. Just quiet, cold fury building behind his eyes. His hand gripped the tablet a little too tightly.

Kyle watched carefully. “You okay?”

Bucky didn’t answer.

He just kept staring at the photo.

And in that silence, the air inside the car grew heavier.

He wasn’t just angry.

He was about to get involved.

🏢🏢🏢🏢🏢

Back at the office, you were the only one who came in.

The silence was almost peaceful. You hummed a light tune, your fingers dancing across the keyboard as you typed—line by line—a resignation letter.

It was time. Levi deserved better. A company that didn’t treat her like trash. Not this toxic circus masked as a professional environment.

You clicked ‘Print’, and just as the printer began to whir, your phone rang.

“Yeah, Mom?” you answered casually, leaning back in your chair.

Your mother’s voice was calm but firm. “Your sister told me everything”

You sighed. “I’ve handled it.”

“They cry in pain?”

“Choked in their tears,” you said with a smirk, watching the printer spit out the paper.

“Good.” A pause. “Do you need a lawyer? I have a lot of friends whose husbands are great lawyers.”

You chuckled. “No, Mom. Everything’s under control.”

“Good job, baby.”

"Is Dad at home?" you asked.

"He’s still on a trip with his friends," your mom replied.

"What if he finds out about Levi?"

"Only God knows, honey."

You picked up the resignation letter and glanced at Levi’s name at the top. “This will be my last day… or should I say, ‘Levi’s’ last day. I’ve already printed the resignation letter.”

“No, dear! Don’t give the letter,” your mother said suddenly.

You paused, frowning. “Why not?”

“Because—”

She didn’t finish.

You froze mid-step.

Two figures walked into the department.

You turned your head slowly, eyes widening as you saw who it was.

Your hand, still holding the letter, trembled slightly.

Of all people…

'What the hell are you doing here?'

*****

Yesterday, at the McCain House

The black SUV rolled quietly into the driveway. The engine cut off, and the passenger door opened. Ortiz stepped out first, then turned to help Levi out of the car. Her movements were slow, stiff. Casey gently supported her from the other side, guiding her carefully as if she might break.

Levi squinted at the familiar front porch, her expression puzzled.

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ortiz exchanged a glance with Casey before replying, “Captain said staying in the city would only stress you out more. The doctor agreed.”

Before Levi could respond, the sound of laughter echoed from inside the house—warm, bright, and unmistakably familiar. As they stepped through the front door, they saw Elle McCain, Levi’s mother, laughing with two of her friends in the sitting room.

Elle's eyes widened when she spotted her daughter.

“Levi? Honey?” she asked in surprise, setting her teacup down and rising to her feet.

Levi offered her mother a tired smile. “Hi, Mom. I just need some rest. We’ll talk later.” She didn’t wait for a reply and slowly made her way upstairs.

Elle blinked, clearly confused by her daughter’s sudden arrival and unusual demeanor. Her gaze shifted to the two people standing in the doorway.

“Ortiz. Casey.” Her tone softened, recognizing them instantly. “You two again. Have you eaten any home-cooked food since you got back?”

Both of them stood straighter. “No, ma’am,” they answered in unison.

“There’s pork ribs, mashed potatoes, peach cobbler, and iced tea in the kitchen,” Elle said with a knowing smile.

The moment she listed the food, both Ortiz and Casey's stomachs practically growled in unison.

“Thank you, ma’am!” they said quickly and hurried off toward the kitchen.

Elle waited patiently until her friends left later that evening. Once the house was quiet again, she climbed the stairs and gently knocked on Levi’s door. No response. She opened it slowly and stepped inside.

Levi was curled up on the bed, wrapped tightly in a blanket pulled over her head like a cocoon. The only thing visible was the slight rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed.

Elle walked to the bed and sat on the edge, then carefully pulled the blanket down from Levi’s face.

The sight broke her heart.

Levi’s face was pale and gaunt. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes sunken. Her once-vibrant presence was now drained and brittle.

“My daughter…” Elle whispered, her voice catching. “What happened to you?”

Levi turned her head away, unable to meet her mother’s eyes.

Elle placed a hand on Levi’s shoulder, gentle but firm. “Does your sister know? Is that why her friends brought you here?”

Levi gave a slow nod, her eyes brimming with tears.

Elle stood abruptly. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath. “Who did this to you?”

Levi hesitated, then whispered, “It’s a long story.”

Elle crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got all night.”

Levi sighed, knowing she couldn’t avoid this. So she began to speak. Slowly at first, then all at once. She told her mother everything—what she endured at the company, how the bullying escalated, how she lost weight, sleep, confidence. How she tried to tough it out. And how her sister��impulsive, fearless—took matters into her own hands.

It took Elle a long moment to fully grasp it all.

“So... your sister is pretending to be you. She’s working at the company. In your place.”

Levi nodded again.

Elle’s expression darkened. “Good. Let them taste hell.”

“Mom…” Levi said gently.

Elle sat down again beside her daughter. “Honey, you’re a smart kid. Why the hell did you stay in that toxic place for so long?”

“That place gave me a lot of benefits,” Levi murmured. “And I had a friend there…”

Elle narrowed her eyes. “A friend? You stayed because of someone?”

Levi nodded slowly. “I wanted to work beside him.”

Elle’s voice lowered. “Who is this person?”

Levi hesitated, her voice trembling just slightly. “He’s…”

*****

Back to the present time…

You froze.

The two figures who stepped into the department caught you mid-sentence with your mother. You slowly lowered your phone, your eyes widening in disbelief.

Standing there was someone you hadn’t seen in years—but you'd recognize him anywhere. Tall, sharp-featured, with piercing blue eyes and hair swept back like he always used to wear it.

James Buchanan Barnes.

He stepped closer, concern etched into every line of his face.

“Levi?” His voice was softer now—gentler than you remembered. “I’m sorry I’m too late. Are you alright?”

You swallowed, trying to steady your voice. “Yeah… yeah.”

But you weren’t. Not really.

Your heart pounded in your chest like it was trying to break free. You hadn't seen Bucky in what felt like a lifetime. Not since high school. And back then, you and Levi had shared more than just the same face—you shared the same crush.

You both liked the same food—steak medium rare with garlic butter. You listened to the same music—acoustic rock. You even loved the same person.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Bucky looked at you—really looked. “I should’ve found out sooner,” he said, his jaw tightening. “I had no idea what was going on in this department. The H.R. covered it up… and the manager too. They knew we knew each other. That’s why they hid it.”

You blinked. “You knew?”

“I recognized your name the first time it landed on my desk,” he admitted. “But I thought maybe I was just imagining things. Until Kyle told me what really happened.”

You nodded slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. Of course Levi never wanted to quit. Was it because… of him?

Your chest tightened.

Bucky took a breath and stepped closer. “You don’t have to work in this department anymore. Starting today, you’ll be my assistant.”

That’s when your heart really started to race.

It beat so fast, you were sure Bucky could hear it. Was this what it felt like… meeting your long-time crush again after all these years?

But it wasn’t your name he’d said with such warmth. It was Levi’s.

You weren’t just standing in someone else’s department. You were standing in someone else’s shoes. And it hit you harder than you expected.

You swallowed down the sudden tightness in your chest. Why did your chest feel tight? It was just a high school crush—a long time ago.

You glanced down, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck.

‘Alright, Levi…’ you thought. ‘I’ll stay. I’ll hold the door open for you—so you can finally be with Bucky.’

My book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing are on Kindle. Check it out!

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