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[marvelatthehottotties]

James Buchanan Barnes - Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks for taking a peak at this! Don’t be afraid to give us feed back! Co-written by @keliza​

Prologue Masterpost for the series

Warnings: Second hand embarrassment, bullying, sketchy frat dudes

Words: 3,092

 A college freshman. Once again, the low end of the food chain. The bottom rung. Things tended to cycle like that, so you could stay humble. It was your job to learn from it and realize that there was no such thing as the top of the food chain. There was always going to be someone higher than you whether you realized it or not. The end of elementary school was the high end. Then it was middle school. Then high school. A never ending cycle that continued on. Once you finished college it would be you planting right back into the workforce on the bottom rung, like swimming upstream. 

Everyone was just a salmon, hopping those little waterfalls. The only issue was you were scared to jump every time that jump happened. You could see the waterfalls were so close and everyone was jumping. But you could also see the shadows of those grizzlys looming, waiting with open mouths to crush you and devour you. Bears didn’t care if you were a big or a small fish, which made being a small fish especially hard.

This was an exhausting process, but the fear of being left behind made you jump finally and you were free to swim again, comfortable now that the bridge was crossed. 

And here you were, this waterfall had appeared much faster than you had expected. 

Peter had dragged you to a college party. Apparently, he knew some of the people, which honestly blew you away as the majority of the kids here weren’t kids at all. Everyone here looked like they had credentials, like they were legally allowed to drink, not just kegging to get the alcohol. 

Peter. The scrawny pipsqueak that had grown up next door. The one your mother loved and your father hoped would one day be his son. Peter and you wouldn’t love each other like that. He’d always eyed the popular cheerleader. The perky homecoming queen. And you…. Well you just couldn’t tear yourself away from the fantasy men in your novels. You were rarely attracted to people. Well, real people anyway. The kind you had a chance with.

This battlefield was different. You need to jump this waterfall and just swim on but the anxiety of not knowing anyone was creeping up your throat.

“Excuse me,” an enormous, sculpted man with an accent chirps. He flashes you a flirty smile as he slides around you. In your horror (had your eyes seriously deceived you?), you stumble backward and away from the punch table, careful not to bump into the couple unabashedly making out in the corner. 

The man’s arms rippled as he made a few drinks and quickly returned the way he came, shooting you another overly friendly smile. A horde of drunk girls squealed as he returned to them, passing off the second drink to a dark haired guy nearby and the girls converged like vultures on him. 

You glanced around. The couple nearby wasn’t quite as desperate as the highschool students in their antics. It was softer, looked tastier. You darted your gaze away, feeling like you were intruding. Where was Peter, he’d been in the bathroom an awful long time now.

The pit of nervousness was filling you, sinking harder as it grew in your gut. You looked about for anything familiar, struggling to find something.

The Stark house was something straight out of a magazine. Perfect for the well off lawyer and his family in town. Nothing like your own family home. Soft and quaint, quiet even. This was loud and sharp and modern. It was too cold to be familiar in the way you wanted. It offered no comfort. 

Neither did these older people. Most of them couldn’t be more than five years older but you still managed to feel out of place. Like a child at a PTA meeting. You wanted to go home so badly, but Ned, who’d driven, also seemed to be missing. 

“Looking for a drink?” Someone asked, you glanced, because it was loud enough to hear over the music. You were surprised, however, to see a stranger making direct eye contact. A tall, dark and handsome guy with a crooked nose and an even more crooked smile. It made your gut drop nervously. 

“No, thank you,” you managed, politely. “Just waiting on my friends.” Your hands tighten harshly on your purse strap as the guy steps closer.

“You sure? I’m making one myself, it’s no trouble.”

“That’s kind, but I'm the designated driver, can’t drink,” you lie. The guy gives a shrug at you.

“Are you even old enough? To drive? You look pretty young.” You give a non committal shrug and start glancing around, praying that Ned and Peter would appear. This man was making your skin crawl and you think it might be better to look for an out.

Nearby there are some college guys spinning someone in a desk chair. The kid looked like he was gonna be sick. Plenty of hollering sounds as he does hurl and give a drunken smile after. 

“Ew,” the girl from the couple behind you hisses. So, she’d managed to notice as well. She grabs his hand and drags him away, leaving you with the dark haired guy.

“Brock,” the guy offers, and moves closer. You dance away a bit, uncomfortable with how close he now was. “Hey, sorry. I’m not some bad guy, just making conversation.” He doesn’t step back. Dread is sinking in your gut and you pick anxiously at the sleeve of your sweater.

“I should go look for my friends,” you start, voice dropping to prevent from it shaking. 

The guy takes a step towards you, and you do the only thing you can think of as alarm fills you. You were not well known for being bold. You dart quickly only to knock into someone else so hard you nearly tumble back. You’re terrified as you look up into the face of another man. His eyes are hard as he glances over you quickly, then they dart to the guy directly behind you. 

“Brock,” rolls a voice from the guy who’s hands are now on your waist, steadying you. Despite the casual way he says the name, it’s got a warning to it. “Why are you over here trying to scare girls?” He was helping you? 

“I was just going to come looking for you,” you blurt before he’s even done speaking. Glancing up at this man, hoping he’d roll with your lie and focusing less on the fact that his hands were so warm. He adjusted immediately.

“Steve’s around here somewhere. Sorry for leaving you. Do you want to go sit?” He asks. His hands resting ever so gently on your shoulders now. You nod.

“Ain’t she a little young for you, Barnes?”

“My cousin is none of your business, Rumlow.” Brock looks pissed as he locks his jaw. You grasp the new man’s hand hard and without any hesitation, he leads you toward the stairs. “Let’s get some air on the upstairs patio, kiddo.” 

Kiddo! Kiddo! Your savior thinks he saved a kid! Not a damsel? This was straight out of a romance novel and the lead (who was incredibly handsome) just called you his cousin and kiddo. Oh, but he smelled like motor oil, and that made your toes curl. 

God was cruel.

“I’m eighteen,” you interject as he drags you up the stairs. When he flashes you a smile you catch your toe on a step and nearly die on those stairs. The guy hooks an arm under you to drag you up, however. Your cheeks heat as mortification fills you. But he’s so close…

“Mhmm. Focus on one foot at a time, okay?” 

Kill me.

And you manage to make it up the stairs without too much more trouble. He navigates around the bodies with ease, meandering away. Finally, he arrives out on a balcony with you. A few people linger around. You took a moment to take him in. Hair pulled up in a little bun on the back of his head, a wide jaw, cute nose and cool blue eyes. Not to mention he had grease streaked on his arm. Whatever vehicle he was working on before this, he hadn’t showered between and it gave him a delightful metal smell. Complete with his tattered tee shirt and stained jeans and boots, he looked like he’d rolled right out of a novel. 

“You’re gone five minutes and you’ve already got a girl?” Someone sighs. You snap your eyes to a tall, slim kid who’s lounging on one of the designer patio chairs. He brushes some of his soft blond hair from his eyes.

You were suddenly aware that you were still clinging to this poor man’s hand like my life depended on it. “Ah! Sorry, I-I didn’t… I didn’t mean to-”

“Relax, doll, you’re okay,” he chirped and lead me over. “This is Steve.”

“Hi, Steve,” You greet meekly. “Thanks for getting me out of there but I should be heading to find my friends Peter and Ned,” You try to excuse.

“Getting her out of there?” Steve repeats, and his awkward expression regresses into a stone cold one.

“Yeah, Rumlow’s ass was harassing her. Meet my cousin. I’m adopting her.” Your cheeks flare. Worse than being friend zoned. I swear. 

“Brock?” Steve repeats, eyes flaring. 

“Sit your ass down, Steve, it’s taken care off. Why don’t you sit down with us?” The last part is directed at you. “Your friends can come find you.” You almost deny it, but your savior… you want to learn more about him.

“I don’t want to intrude,” you offer.

“Non-sense,” Steve calls. “Sit.” You slowly sink down on a patio sofa, your hand relaxed in the guys hold. You notice the twitch of thick muscle beneath his shirt as he moves to settle beside you.

“So, what’s your name?” The cute guy asks.

“(Y/N),” you answer.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N). I’m Bucky.” Your heart flutters uncomfortably in your belly. It was rare you reacted this way, but he’d been so kind. When Bucky settles beside you, his knee pressed against yours and you’re so caught up by it you don’t notice the knowing look Steve passes to Bucky. Or the grin that Bucky sends back to him.

“Have you graduated?” Steve asks. 

“Yeah, I start at Avalon College this fall, do you guys go there?” 

“Stevie does, I don’t.” 

The casual conversation ate away at the wild adrenaline that sunk your gut. The nervousness easing in the presence around. Only the bitter awkwardness was gaining on you. 

“So, what do you do?” Bucky glances down at the front of his tee shirt and you catch the name of the local mechanic shop. When he looks back at your embarrassed face, he flashes an amused grin and throws an arm over your shoulder. Being so close to the warmth of him. “Mechanic?” You manage to squeak. How had you not noticed the bright white lettering on his black shirt. It hid the grease stains pretty well. Probably do to his pearly white smile, or his sinful smirk.

He threw an ankle over his lap and twisted. “Yes, ma’am. What are you studying at school?” It felt so intimate how close he was leaning in. 

“Uh, undecided,” you offer. When you glance at Steve, he’s trying to hide his big grin, warm eyes gentle on you. 

“What are you doing at a party like this, it doesn’t seem like your normal scene.” He asks.

“My friends Peter and Ned dragged me with them. I’m usually the third wheel. To be honest they may have forgotten I’m here.” Steve frowns at me. “I guess Peter got invited by Tony earlier this week.”

“They don’t sound like very good friends,” Bucky rumbles, eyes narrowed coldly. It makes you gulp and retreat into the cushions a bit. 

“No! They’re wonderful. They support me as much as I support them. They’re just easily distracted, you know?” Bucky still frowns at this answer and shakes his head.

“And leave you alone long enough that Rumlow starts to follow you.” You shift uncomfortably. 

“You know, I’m going to grab a drink,” Steve offers awkwardly. “Do you want anything? Water? Juice?” He asks you. 

“Uh, juice if they’ve got it,” you reply. He stands and leaves, not bothering with Bucky’s. You try to push the thought behind you. That he’s getting you something non-alcoholic for you. You teeter between grateful, and irritated. Was he doing it because they thought of you as a kid or because he wanted to make sure you weren’t taken advantage of?

You start to squirm away from Bucky a bit, as Steve leaves. “I’m gonna check my phone real quick,” you offer. He gestures for you to go ahead and watches as you drag it from your back pocket. 

“Hey, Bucky!” You hear someone call. Light and airy, like a goddess. You lift your head from the lock screen to see a gorgeous blonde, approaching. Legs looking extra long in her leggings and heels.

“Hey, Lindsey,” You don’t like the twitchy nature she inspires in Bucky. His hand twitches by your shoulder, like he almost dragged it away as he moved to sit up straighter. Apparently he thinks twice about this move and sinks into a more natural position. She’s not even looking at him as she struts toward the chair on the other side of him.

A little voice nags in your head. They have history. You can see in the way he tries to act nonchalant. If you hadn’t seen that nervous (or eager, you can’t quite tell) shift, then you wouldn’t be able to tell. He keeps his voice even and his eyes never waver. You admired him silently for being able to hold his nervousness at bay like this.

“Who’s your little friend?” She smiles sweetly, a perfect facade to her real intentions. You briefly wondered if she was being sincere but the wording made your brain stutter with hesitation.

Bucky took a short intake of breath that you could feel against his shoulder as he switched from lounging next to you, to tucking you against his ribs. His expression chilled to something akin to the one he gave Brock downstairs. “What do you want?” He rumbles, voice still even. Her face flutters a bit, not expecting his reaction.

“Wha- excuse you? I was being polite!”

“No, you’re being passive aggressive. What do you want?” Her expression sours from offence. 

“I came by to talk to you, James,” she hisses the name and it only makes him roll his eyes at her. “Rumlow said she’s your cousin. Looking a little comfortable there to be a cousin.”

“You always listen to what Rumlow says, Linz?” He didn’t bat an eyelash even though you were squirming uncomfortably. She turns her eyes on you, they burn into your soul.

“Can you give us a minute, hon? You’re kind of intruding on a private conversation.” Her hand drifts closer, reaching toward Bucky’s knee.

“Me?” You squeak. You wish it’d been hissed out but your lack of confrontation, shoved you down. Never in your life had you felt so offended. Were there really girls like this still? 

Bucky’s hand tightens over your shoulder and his ankle slips from his knee. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s sitting straighter now as you’re practically crushed to his side. His hand would be more exciting if the pettiness you feel rising in you wasn’t so raw. “Yes, you.”

“No, not her,” Bucky rumbles low. “She’s not going anywhere if she doesn’t want to.” To spite her, you deliberately bite back nervousness and place a hand on his thigh, near his knee. You hope it looks natural enough. You think it does as her hand falls away from where it hung in the air. 

“I don’t want to,” you promise, your voice still soft. You cannot believe you’re being this bold.

“This is between us!”

“She was here first.”

“Fine,” she sighs, and moves. She turns towards Bucky more. It sends a bolt of unease through you. “James, I wanted to talk about getting back together with you. Don’t tell me you don’t want to, too.”

“Lindsey,” he states, and for a moment, you fear he will cave. His arms draw away from you, he leans close to her. “After this, you can go fuck yourself.” He says softly. Too softly. He’s mocking her. A little thrill floats through you. Amazed at how good this felt. She shoots a shocked look at him. Then you. Then she became furious.

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES! YOU’RE A FUCKING PIG!” She squeals in absolute outrage. As she flies to her feet. He tilts back against the cushions, expression ever cool. You couldn’t read him at all. “I’M SO SICK OF YOU TREATING ME LIKE SHIT! SHE’S LIKE FIFTEEN! THERE IS NO WAY SHE’S FUCKING LEGAL!” She twists towards you and on reflex you snatch up Bucky’s hand and squeeze tight. “Don’t worry, he’ll break your heart and leave you just like the rest of us, sweetie.”

“That’s nice,” you manage to squeak. She fumes, deciding to storm away, you hear her as she flies down the stairs, screeching insults along the way. “Wow,” you whisper to Bucky, flushing from the onlookers. Your savior snorts and bursts into laughter.

“Sorry about her,” he chuckles. “Guess we're even now, kiddo.”

“Does that mean I have to leave now?” You ask.

“No! No, you can stay as long as you want.” He shoots you a beaming smile.

“There won’t be any more exes, right?” You ask, only half joking. The mechanic throws his arm over your shoulder and tugs you against him, ruffling your hair playfully.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N). I’ve got your back. You’re too pure to let anyone bully you but me.” You peek up at your new crush in surprise. 

“Yeah, but wait until the rumor mill gets ahold of the fact that we’re cousins and lovers,” you shoot back.

“Ah, fuck ‘em. Haven’t you heard, incest is in right now.” And his wink flutters your heart even as his words disgust you. This reminds you vaguely of the uncomfortable crush you had as a child on a distant cousin. The crush that you only ever spoke of once to Peter… when you were drunk. This crush would never be more than that, but for now, you’d let Bucky tug you a little closer than necessary, forgetting to check your phone all together.

tagging: @tomisbaeholland​

[marvelatthehottotties]

James Buchanan Barnes - Prologue

A/N: I’ll be able to post Tony’s tomorrow or by Friday I think! We’ve almost knocked it out. With me getting a new job and @keliza​‘s school schedule we don’t have a specific date we’re working on. Shout out to @ruthoakenshield​ for telling me how to do the undercut! Thank you! IT’S BEEN SIX MONTHS!

Masterpost Chapter 1

Summary: There are worse things in life than a party right? Sure. Right… Only your introverted self can’t stand them. You do it for your friends, but you get left pretty early on in the night. And stumble into a beefcake that smells like motor oil and has grease smudges on his hands that somehow decides you are too pure to be left on your own and… adopts you for the night. Not as romantic as you were hoping for, if you’re being honest.

When you happen to find an unidentifiable rock, you try to stop him from touching it. But he’s a little science nerd and wants to take some for later. He goes to chip away some with some of his tools and there is a burst of light… and the hot mechanic has disappeared on you! You regrettably panic and jump forward to find him… only to touch the rock and wake up in your bed.

Warnings: Mentions of Death and Abuse

Word Count: 1,889 words

“What screws us up the most in life is the picture in our head of how it’s supposed to be.” -Unknown

James Buchanan Barnes, who most knew as Bucky, was born to the fairly wealthy owner of Avalon Insurance and a school teacher. Unfortunately, Bucky’s mother, Winnifred, died not long into Bucky’s life. He was probably 2 when a car accident took her life, leaving Bucky to be raised by his father George. 

George was a loving father, nobody could accuse him of being anything less. However, there was a point when love and devotion turned to manipulation and ruling with a heavy hand. Most of Bucky’s childhood, he valued the guidance of his father’s wisdom, but as he developed into a teenager and began thinking for himself, he realized the many flaws in his father. He was elitist. He valued only those in Avalon who had as much or more wealth as them. He practically praised Howard Stark. That wasn’t horrible but when he started to imply that he should stay away from Steve because he was poor… that was the final straw. 

Steve and him had been best friends for years, he couldn’t just abandon him when he needed support the most. Bucky and his father were in the middle of one of their usual fights. Bucky didn’t want to be an insurance agent like his father wanted, he wanted to be in some kind of trade. He always enjoyed doing things with his hands, and the idea of going door to door and selling insurance seemed lame to him. The fight started out small… more like a juvenile squabble. 

“I told you 100 times I don’t want to be an insurance Agent” Bucky argued, going down the stairs from his room, his father trailing after him, a dark red tie in his hand. 

“I know but you need a job and I can give you one without the interview or application.” George argued back to him. 

It always started this way; James would get upset over his father suffocating him, George would come up with new ways to guilt him into staying, and it always ended with someone being absolutely livid. 

“If you don’t you will end up poor and I don’t want to see you in poverty!” 

“There’s a million things I can do besides insurance that will make me enough money to survive.” Bucky retorted, putting some dishes away from the dishwasher. It was his daily chore- his dad did laundry and he did dishes. 

“Nobody gets rich selling insurance-” 

“I can make sure you’re in a good placement!” 

“You’re resorting to nepotism now?”

“It’s not-” 

“God living with you is like walking on eggshells! I can’t even do the dishes without you lecturing me about what you want me to do with my life!” 

“I’m just telling you what is best for you!” 

“Can I not figure that out for myself? Explore the world and take some risks? 

“You greedy shit, I’m just trying to protect you!” 

“I don’t want your protection!”

“What would you prefer to do then?”

“I thought about going into some kind of trade after school but you have no interest in what I actually want to do.

“So you want to be poor like Steve?” 

That was it. Steve was Bucky’s best friend in the entire world. He would die for that boy. “His mother is dying-” the 16 year old Bucky breathed out. 

“It’s not like they contributed much before- the woman worked 2 jobs and could barely afford her son’s asthma medication.” George growled, just spitting venom at this point.

“She did the best she could- her husband walked out on her,” Bucky tried to defend. 

“They’re the earth worms and we are the birds, my boy- it's time you associate yourself with people like us-” George clasped his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. 

Bucky grabbed his forearm in an iron grip. “Don’t fucking touch me-” he hissed. “You don’t get to tear my desires down, insult my friends then pretend we are friends!” Bucky shouted, tightening his grip on his father. 

“I’m warning you, kid- I’m not afraid to knock you on your ass.” George warned. He had never hit Bucky. Usually it was just him tearing down his interests, not having time for him, living through him and forcing bucky to do things he didn’t want to do. 

Bucky pushed him away, “Threaten to hit me again, I’ll call CPS.” Bucky advised then grabbed his wallet off the table and his keys then stormed out of the house. Since Bucky could drive, the fights always ended with one of them storming away, and usually it was Bucky. 

Bucky climbed into his beat up pickup truck. While George had money, Bucky insisted on getting an old rusty junk car just in case he crashed or it broke down, he wouldn’t waste his dad’s money. That and when Bucky turned 18 he would buy the car off his dad and he knew he couldn’t afford a sports car and he wanted as few reasons to be trapped there as possible. 

He went to the grocery store, got a bag of food including 3 of the deli sandwiches that were already made- italian for Steve, a ham and mozzarella for Sarah and turkey and cheddar for himself. He was going to stay the night with them tonight. Sarah seemed to enjoy their company and Steve could use the help around the house. Sarah could help; but she didn’t enjoy moving around much and he didn’t mind helping out. Steve was a small boy, tall but very scrawny compared to Bucky. 

He came into the back door which led to the kitchen, spotting the slender young man at the dining table, pre-calculus spread around the round wooden table. He adored that the blonde seemed so concerned for his education. 

The next couple years went about as well as his 16th. Bucky and his dad constantly fought, resulting in Bucky staying longer and longer at Steve’s. He had recently gotten into a fight with his dad, that resulted in him leaving for nearly two weeks. George had laid down a hammer on Bucky’s emotions. He told him how dumb he was for not applying for any colleges for after graduation and letting his grades slip senior year. He told him his desire to become a mechanic would leave him in poverty and be a waste of his life. He told him that he was starting to hope he fucked up so that he would see who was right. The thing that caused Bucky to leave though was George saying how much better their lives would be once Steve and his mother finally die of starvation. 

Bucky left that night and didn’t look back. He packed a small bag of his belongings, threw all the cash he had saved it to buy the pickup from his dad on the table, and split. He stopped at the bank and since he was 18, he could transfer his money from their joint account to a new one for just him so all his money wasn’t taken away. Maybe one day he would see his dad and make amends, but he just couldn’t live there anymore. He had already spoken to Sarah and Steve about moving in if things got bad, which they welcomed because Bucky was responsible. 

“I appreciate you paying for my asthma-” Steve said at the dinner table, having made sure his mom didn’t know about it yet. “I just- her insulin is so expensive and I haven’t needed my inhaler in so long.” 

“Hey- don’t worry about it. I don’t need you passing out because you can’t breathe.” 

“Hey- It hasn’t happened in-”

“A year and a half I know.” Bucky laughed.

The way their days usually went was Bucky would stay home with Sarah during the day while Steve was in class, then the three would have dinner together while Sarah rested, then Steve would watch over his mother while Bucky worked in the evening at the local mechanic shop. He enjoyed their routine. When he found out Steve stopped buying his own medication to pay for his mothers, bucky decided to add extra money to his rent that he owed Steve so he had enough for the medication he needed. 

“Congratulations by the way on getting into Avalon University. I’m proud of you, blondie.” Bucky said, nudging his friend. 

Steve chuckled, a light pink blush on his cheeks. The two were fresh out of high school and in the fall Steve would start at the university. 

“I still think you should apply- I don’t think I’m going… I need to take care of mom.” 

“Nah, college isn’t my thing, you saw my graduating transcript.”

“Seriously. You’re great at science… maybe you could-”

“Steve.” Bucky stopped him, looking into the ocean-like eyes of his brother. “I have been pressured my whole life to do what I don’t want to do. You’ve never had the chance to do what makes you happy… you have been doing so great taking care of Sarah… go to college. I’ll take care of your mom.” 

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

The blonde felt tears brim his eyes when he hugged his friend tightly. Sarah did her best, but since she got sick, nobody put Steve first. Bucky was willing to sit with Steve’s dying mother so that he could get an education. 

“Hey…” bucky ruffled his hair playfully, “Your mom is my mom” he said firmly and nudged him, “save up the rest of summer so you can pay for it. Apply for all that financial aid and stuff- I think the Starks is hosting that scholarship for 1 full ride at Avalon so maybe you could apply there.” 

Steve went to college, still living at home so that he could help Bucky with Sarah when he could. Bucky had been doing well, working early mornings and evenings so that he could have time for them. Bucky had gotten Sarah breakfast and then went to work, knowing Steve would be home shortly. He knew Steve would be home soon and be able to stay with her, and Bucky had hoped to contact his father. George had called him a lot recently, and Bucky planned to stop by after work to see him. The past year they had begun to rekindle their relationship, but they were not going to get back to where they were. 

He had worked a hard day, stopped and spoke to his dad over a few beers. It was the best conversation they had in nearly a year. The two spoke about the old days- when he was a kid and they went camping together. His dad told him some more about what his mother was like… It made Bucky hopeful that he could have his father in his life again, and now he didn’t live under his roof, he could be spared a lot of the mental strain George caused. 

The two men had about 6 beers, which prompted George to take Bucky’s keys so he wouldn’t drive home. Bucky woke up in the morning, realizing he had to rush home to check in on Sarah. It was about 9 am when his cell phone rang… It was Steve. 

“She’s gone.”

taglist: @tomisbaeholland​

[marvelatthehottotties]

Yeah, I was going to reblog and post the story? Clip? Imagine? In the reblog? If thats alright?

Pardon, can I possibly elaborate on some of these with reblogs? I'd like to ask before I post because I stated to write some of them. If so, are there any requirements?

I don’t fully grasp what it is that you are asking, I’m afraid. Do you mean are you allowed to reblog to other blogs and other sites if you write something? The answer to that is yes, it is your intellectual property and you are free to do with it as you wish. We do ask, however, that you give a little recognition to the imagine that inspired the story if you do, just out of respect to others. 

I hope this answers your question, if not, please do not hesitate to contact me again and apologies for misunderstanding you. 

[marvelatthehottotties]

REBLOG IF YOU DON’T MIND WRITERS TAKING TIME OFF FOR THEIR MENTAL HEALTH

[marvelatthehottotties]

Steven Grant Rogers - Chapter 1

Warnings: Mentions of sex, alcohol use, bit of angst, bit of fluff.

Masterpost Prologue

Co-authored by @keliza

Masterpost

He was long and lanky. He’d been slow to grow right up until our senior year of high school. Junior year he’d left for the summer and in just three short months it seemed like he’d sprouted right up into the 6’2” bean pole. 

You’d always liked Steve. Most girls gravitated towards Bucky, the well off, naturally charming mechanic that Steve was connected at the hip with. Not you. 

It was always Steve, with his gentle blue eyes and his kind smile. Just once you wanted to know what it felt like to hold his hand or how he’d kiss. 

You always imagined he kissed like John Thorton at the end of North and South. How many times had you fantasized that he brushed his hand over your skin and breath a little breath to blow away your insecurities like he had with his sketchbook. 

You’d glanced once to see what he drew. Mostly doodles, but once, you’d seen a face. One that broke your heart. Ms. Carter. Your senior lit teacher. He drew her in such a lovely way there was no doubt to his affections for her. And how could you ever compete with someone as fierce and intelligent as Ms. Peggy Carter.

You tended to shy away from him for the most part. Usually too worried about being a nuisance to really try to hold a conversation with him. You were honestly surprised to go see him go to school. He came from a poor family, you knew his mother was sick. It made your heart ache to watch him go through what you did. 

Then it happened. 

Sarah Rogers passed away and he was devastated. So was Bucky if you were being completely honest. He and Steve were like brothers, and towards the end of high school he lived with them, right around the time his dad cut him off. You put everything aside. You went to Bucky and asked if there was anything you could do to help. You did a fundraiser to help raise money for her funeral, they didn’t have health insurance, let alone life insurance. Steve tried to deny the help at first but he slowly opened up. 

Somehow you ended up even more in love with Steve than before. It wasn’t hard. Bucky teased you in private about your crush on the little dork who never backed down from a fight. Now here you were, about ready to finish up your senior year with your two best friends. Ready to graduate, to flee the nest. 

The music was so loud in the backyard it was hard to hear right next to the speaker. But thankfully you didn’t have to stay by the speaker. You saw the blond hair that you’d spot from anywhere. The hair your eyes always searched for. It was habitual now. 

You break into a grin at seeing him. He smiles back. His gentle, amused smile that says he’s feeling a bit mischievous tonight. It’s so distracting you aren’t prepared to be lifted off your feet. Letting out a squeal of terror, you kick your feet. “BUCKY! PUT ME DOWN!”

“Down you say?” 

“Don’t you dare!” You meet Steve’s eyes just as you leave Bucky’s arms. Time slows as you see the grin break out of Steve’s face. You inhale as fast as this slowed time allows you to. The water is warm when you hit it. No guarantee it would be when you climb out. Of course, there was nothing like seeing that twinkle in his eye. 

Time stayed slow under that water. Bubbles surged around you, when it cleared you gazed about the pool. Red solo cups had sunk to the bottom of the pool. There was a pretty pink bra near the bottom as well. A few glow stick bracelets shined from the bottom as well and legs kicked about. A couple guys were wrestling near the other side. 

Why was water always so comforting? You wonder idly, listening to the dull noise of music filter through the water. It was so soft and quiet.

You just wanted to stay down here, to float. It sounds morbid. 

When the blond appeared above the ripples of the water, you forgot about the water and pushed off the bottom of the pool, surging up to break the surface of the pool. “You’re an accomplice, you know?” You hum to him. He chuckles at you, hands stuffed in the pockets of the pants he couldn’t fill out yet. 

“That only counts if I knew about it beforehand,” he replies. You shoot Bucky a hard look, but not too hard. You could never mask your true feelings to them. Instead you just soften into a grin and giggle. 

“You’re dead, Barnes.” He smiles as Steve holds out a hand to help you out of the water.

“Sure, sure.”

“Been here long?” Steve asks you.

“About ten minutes. Thankfully I left my phone in my car.” 

“I tried to call you,” he replies, with a shrug. “Explains why you didn’t answer.” 

Wringing out your hair, “To repent, you gotta get me a drink, Buck.”

“Haven’t gotten one yet?” Bucky asks.

“Nah, was waiting for my body guards so I could feel extra special.” 

“Oh, in that case, I’ll get the princess a drink.” He gives a dramatic bow and then turns to head inside to where the jungle juice lay. Leaving you with Steve. 

“To the balcony?” You ask.

“Sounds good.”

There was an ease about being with Steve, one that wasn’t there before. He made things easier. Made things better. There was no doubt that you loved Steve, even if he wasn’t for you. How you longed to be his muse like Ms. Carter was. He was like dawn on a winter morning, long awaited. He was warm sunshine melting the snow. He was a necessity. You’d prayed so many nights that you could be good enough for him, but you weren’t sure. God could be so cruel.

Soon, you both had made your ways onto the balcony. Exactly where you always went when Tony Stark threw parties at his parents house. He’d moved across the country after high school to go to school at MIT. A smart kid, he’d gone from quiet, like he couldn’t bother with anyone, to a cocky asshole. His parties were statement pieces. Tradition in our little town. There wasn’t much to do besides parties around here. Steve wasn’t a big fan, you knew. 

He’d much rather be at home, drawing memories of his mother. A heart breaking experience for you. This at least got him out. Once he even participated in one of those games. Bucky had talked him into playing the game with cards. Where you have to pass the card by lips alone. It had been Bucky’s plan to get Steve to kiss you. 

It had not worked. 

He’d hoped you’d both finally be able to admit feelings. But it hadn’t worked. Steve ended up locking lips with another girl. Not just once. The girl had spent the night kissing Steve exactly how you’d imagined to kiss, delicate, savory. His hands, brushing hair from her cheeks like she was a flower. At some point you couldn’t take it anymore. You shuffled away, looking for some relief from the awful pain of seeing someone else on him. 

You found it, alright. 

Clawing at some strangers back, hiding your tears and regretting the next never ending weeks. Hating that those hands weren’t Steve’s. The guy, who’s name you didn’t care enough to get didn’t have soft blonde hair, his hands were too soft. He didn’t smell like him. The whole thing took way too long to recover from. It took almost six months for you to even meet Steve’s eyes like you used too.

Now, you both pretended nothing happened. It had been erased like a nightmare fading after waking. 

But dreams still came. You never expected to be Steve’s number one. His number two, maybe his number. When you fell in love with him, a little spot of necrosis began on your heart. It expanded every time you gave yourself hope to be more. You’d settle to dream of him.

There was a recurring one that hurt more than anything else ever had, only because they were so real, you’d forget they weren’t. Waking up to his skin under your fingertips, he’d smile, gentle, free. His fingers black from charcoals, he’d drawn you sleeping, loving the morning light coming through the window. 

You’d once told Bucky you hoped one day you could break away, and love someone else. “One day, I’ll love someone more than him,” you promised. Alas, it wasn’t anytime soon.

“You cold?” Steve asks. As you shiver on the balcony. 

“Hm? Oh, no,” you dismiss. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Here, I’ll get you a blanket, I’m sure the Starks won’t mind.”

“Ah, thanks,” you reply and glance out at the party below. A familiar prickle rose in your gut. Something unsettling. You lean against the edge and ponder. It didn’t seem more than a moment before a voice tore you back, but not completely. There was something, almost like being underwater.

“Sorry, I took so long.” You frown at Steve, throwing a blanket over your trembling shoulder. You weren’t cold though.

“You were only gone a few seconds.” Steve chuckles.

“I suppose. I was gone for almost five minutes.” You shake your head at him, or yourself, you’re not certain. “Maybe you zoned out again,” he suggests.

You didn’t want to worry him, but it happened frequently. “Yeah, probably.”

“Where do you go when that happens?”

“I… There’s this feeling sometimes.” Steve frowns deeper. “It’s almost like the air gets stale… like… I feel like a ghost, Steve. Like I’m not living anymore and I’m just… stuck, just reliving the same moments over and over,” you breathe. “It’s not good or bad or numb… just like I get stuck in these little moments, you know?” Steve doesn’t reply, but he also doesn’t look at you like you’re crazy either.

“Well, you’re not a ghost, (Y/N). You’re alive. More alive than anyone I’ve ever met.” You meet his gaze. You take a moment and nod, reassured for another moment that all was well. 

“Steve?” You ask.

“Yeah?”

“Is it too much to ask you not to leave me, I don’t care if this is dream. But when you get famous for your art, don’t forget about me, okay?”

“A dream?” He repeats. “Why would you ever want to dream about me,” he jokes.

“I’m serious, Steve.” You say, turning and fluttering a hand toward his chest. You hesitate, afraid if you touch him he would crumble into a thousand, thousand butterflies and float away to be gone forever. But when you lay a hand, he doesn’t crumble away like your dreams, instead you stroke the fabric of his collar under your fingertips.

“I would never leave you,” he leans down when you avoid his eyes. Making you meet his eyes, a tiny smile stretching on his handsome face. “‘Till the end of the line, right?”

“Right,” you breathe, like a relief. And suddenly your eyes are holding each other’s and it’s endless. Like one of those moments only you feel very much alive. He’s very close. If you pushed up onto your toes, your lips would meet. Would he want you too?

You could smell him. He smelled like clean sheets and his paints. Like the craft store.

“I got drin- Oh…” Both of you snap your heads. Bucky looked disappointed.

Both you and Steve shifted away from each other quickly, a coolness rising. Dosing us and sending us toward Bucky. The dark haired beauty presses his lips together like he was uncomfortable and heaves a sigh as the both of us took the drinks. 

“This is gonna be a long night,” he sighs into his drink as I shuffle over to the patio furniture with them.

@tomisbaeholland​

[marvelatthehottotties]

Steven Grant Rogers - Prologue

A/N: These will be mini series for the avengers that has been co-written by a dear friend of mine @keliza

Masterpost Chapter 1

Warnings: Death of loved one, angst

Words: 2,346

“Be not afraid of greatness; some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.” - William Shakespear 

Love is a magical thing. Some explain it though religion, others use science. The truth is we don’t know why it happens. Nobody truly knows what brings two souls together in the universe. Perhaps the most magical thing is when those two souls finally meet and bring a new life to the world. This is a daily occurrence. Every single day about 385,000 babies are brought into this world. 

It was the fourth day of July in 1996 that one very special child was born. The 220th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence was the day Steven Grant Rogers was brought into the world. His mother, Sarah Rogers, often called him her little patriot. Steve’s upbringing was a loving one for many years. It was just Steve and his father and mother. 

On Father’s day in 2000, Steve’s father went to the hardware store, but he didn’t come back. This left Sarah in a tough position. She didn’t have a job, they were a single-income family. Her husband made enough money to support them so she never had to worry. Now she was on her own with a toddler. Luckily, their hometown of Avalon had a pretty good public school. She was able to get Steve enrolled in kindergarten so she could get a job. 

When Steve was 6, they discovered he had asthma. This wouldn’t be a huge deal for most families, but Sarah was just getting by with the bills on a hostess’ income. They made it though. Steve had gotten good grades and progressed well, all things considered. Avalon wasn’t an expensive place to live, and once Sarah had found a job that would support them, they lived happily. 

Steve was about 9 when he met James ‘Bucky’ Barnes in fourth grade. The two became best friends rather quickly. It was evident to everyone around them the two would be friends for a lifetime. The two did everything together. When Bucky needed him, Steve was there. When Steve needed him, Bucky was there. 

The boys had looked out  for one another, but nothing could prepare Steve for the year of 2008. Steve was 12 years old when Sarah fell ill. They were sitting in the hospital when Steve heard the news that his mother was terminal. Bucky was by his side the whole time. Steve wouldn’t forget the day the words, “She has two- maybe three years.” left the doctor’s moth. This brought a sound from Steve that he didn’t know possible. Anguish. Despair. His mother was his light. His Angel. The thing that kept his feet on the ground, and now she was dying. Words cannot explain the closeness that Steve and his mother shared. 

From that moment, Steve pledged his life to his mother. He came home from school every day and made sure she got her medication, did his homework, helped her with dinner, then watched a movie with her until she fell asleep. Sometimes they would play a game of Monopoly or Life. 

Soon,  Steve was old enough to get a job. Without his mother’s income and his father having abandoned them, they were left destitute. It was a fight to get her medication and put food on the table. Steve had to make sacrifices. His mother’s Diabetes had been progressing- they say she had it long before they knew. It didn’t take long for their funds had run dry, all their savings gone. Steve had a job as a grocery store clerk after school on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays but it wasn’t enough. 

Sarah’s insulin had been far more expensive than he had anticipated and they couldn’t afford it. It was that or food. It was a choice nobody should have to make. Steve would rather go hungry so his mother could get every second longer out of her life. That’s when Bucky stepped inside, a bag hidden behind his back. 

“I come bringing gifts.” he said firmly, plopping a paper sack on the wooden table. Steve looked up from his books. Papers were scattered along the oak on over half of the table. He wanted to go to college but it was a far off dream. “What’s this?” The blonde stood, peeking into the bag then snapped it closed, the paper crunching loudly in the kitchen. “What is this??” the blonde whispered at his dark-haired companion. “Food. It is what you put in your mouth hole that gives you energy.” Bucky said in an overly snaky tone. “I don’t- I can’t accept this,” Steve tried to deny the gift. 

“Too bad,”

“Bucky. I can’t,”

“You can. Dad paid for it anyways so it’s no money out of my pocket. Now you-” Bucky placed two firm hands on his pal’s shoulders, the slender boy shuddering at the sudden pressure, “sit.” Bucky plopped Steve down into his chair. “Ea,t” He pulled a pre-made sandwich out of the bag and placed it in front of his friend, “And do your homework so that you can play Uno with us.” Bucky said firmly then grabbed two more and crossed from the kitchen/dining room into a small bedroom. Steve sighed, hearing his mother’s voice and Bucky’s mingling in the distance. His friend was more charitable than he realized. 

He spent about 30 more minutes doing his homework. He had an hour to spend with them before he had to go to his second job at a nearby craft shop. His boss had allowed him to put some items in the shop, knowing that Steve was struggling, so that they may sell and he could get some extra money. Bucky seemed to come around less often recently. He thought it was because his father didn’t like Steve that well. He didn’t know why, but the last few years he got the vibe that he wasn’t liked by the owner of Avalon Insurance. 

He came into the room slowly, always hesitant to step into his mother’s room. It wasn’t because she was there- it was because he was scared she wouldn’t be. He knew she was already two  years passed when they said she would die. He knew she could go any day. It scared him more than anything in the world. Bullies he could deal with. Bucky’s asshole father, he could deal with. An asthma attack, he could deal with… but losing Sarah… it would change him and he was terrified of it. 

Push those thoughts aside, Soldier.  He reminded himself. He was his mom’s soldier and he needed to fight for their comfort while she fought for her life. He stepped into the small bedroom, a twin sized bed sitting in the middle of the room, the walls painted a light lilac color, a matching quilt over his mother. He walked across the stained carpeting and sat on his mother’s bedside. The woman had blonde hair that matched her son’s, but she was very thin and clearly not well. 

“Where did these come from?” the tall dark haired man asked, his eyes bright. Steve cocked his head to the side then nodded, “I drew those for mom” he said. In his hand, Bucky held about thirty sketches. Some were landscapes, but most were body parts. Many were of himself or of his mother. That's all they needed. A couple were of Bucky too. What Bucky found the most interesting was that many were of hands. His mother’s hands. His and hers together. Some were of her lips, her nose. Steve had a talent. Not even Bucky knew. “She liked one I did so i’ve been doing it a lot” he nodded to her gently. He had a knack for bodies and the human form. 

“You never cease to amaze me, Rogers” Bucky ruffled his hair. 

The next two years were more than his mother could have asked for. She survived 4years passed they said she would, and Steve never stopped. He still worked at the art shop, attended classes through the week at the local college (part time), got a new job in management at a local department store that paid a little better, and had been doing some drawings at the local fair every summer. That’s where most of his college money came from. 

Bucky had recently found out while on a run that Steve had stopped renewing his inhaler medication to afford his mother’s insulin. It was a hard choice, as Steve knew if he had an attack bad enough, it would mean hospital bills they couldn’t afford, but it was a risk he had to take. This caused a mild fight between the best friends because Bucky just knew Steve was going to lose his mother, and he worried for his brother more than anything in the world. 

Wednesday November 12, 2014. This was a day Steve would never forget. He woke up that morning, made breakfast for him and his mother, then went to class. When he returned he had 20 minutes to spend with her then had to go to work at the art shop. That’s when it happened. He came into his mother’s room to tell him about his school day as he always did, and she just looked at him. A sad, distant expression in her eyes.

 “Come my son.” She whispered. Steve made his way to her, mentally going over a checklist to make sure she got all of her medications. She had other things as a result of her diabetes, all of which had to be monitored. “Are you feeling alright” he asked, running a hand over her face and gently taking her hand. She gave it one firm squeeze, “It’s time” she whispered. She had known all day, but held out as long as she possibly could. “Lie with me” the woman whispered to him. Steve felt the blood rush to his face, time. It couldn’t be. Not yet. Please, God.  Steve thought to himself as he lied beside Sarah. The woman wrapped herself in his arms, the two holding each other. 

“I am so proud of you, my son” she whispered. Steve felt tears brimming the bottom of his eyes, “Everything I’ve done is for you.” She gave a gentle nod, coughing a little bit as she inhaled. “I know… but it’s time you lived your own life.” 

“This is how I want to live my life- mom, with you.” Steve choked, trying his hardest not to cry at his mother's last moments with him. “No,” she said stubbornly. Even on her literal death bed, Sarah Rogers was a strong woman and wouldn’t take any other answer than what she knew to be correct. “You have lived the last six years being my humble doctor.” she said quietly. “I’m thankful-” she stopped. She cleared her throat and cupped his cheeks, “I’m thankful I got to see the man you will become.You’re a good man, Steve. I’m proud of who you are.” 

Steve felt the tears begin to roll down his cheeks, “Mommy please don’t leave me-” She tutted and kissed his hands, snuggling back down into his arms. “Shh…” she soothed. “I will be okay.” she said, her voice faltering. She closed her eyes. The two lied like that for nearly half an hour before a quiet whisper breathed, “I love you, my Patriot.” 

“I love you too, mom… more than life itself.” Steve said to her. He had so much more he wanted to say to her but he couldn’t find the strength to speak again. He had drifted off to sleep with her in his arms, no regard to call into work and let them know- he didn’t care. All that mattered was Sarah and him. He didn’t even call Bucky to tell him his favorite woman was dying. 

Part of him thought Bucky knew. Part of him knew. She hadn’t been doing well the last few days and Bucky asked to speak with her alone. Maybe he was saying goodbye. Not that he would ever admit it. 

The next time Steve opened his eyes, the sun had come up. He fell asleep around 6 pm and slept nearly 12 hours. He was exhausted. He looked to Sarah, the woman’s eyes were closed, her lips together, but it didn’t look like she was asleep. There was no stiffness in her muscles. Her cheeks had sunken in. Her body relaxed. She was gone. 

Steve had thought this moment over a million times in his head. How he would react. He thought he would scream. Be angry. Cry. But right now… He knew she was finally at peace. He didn’t know where you went when you died. None of us do. But he knew wherever she was, she wasn’t suffering. Sure, she had survived four years longer than they said, but she didn’t live. She was bedridden most of that time. 

Steve kissed her hands, knowing this was the last time they would hold each other. “I love you” he whispered and hugged her body close to his. He sighed shakily, tears running down his face, wishing he could talk to her again. “I’ll make you proud. I promise” he vowed to her. He stayed there, knowing he could spend an eternity in bed with her. He let out a huff, pulling himself away from her bed and standing up. He knelt by her bed, packing away all her medical stuff. 

He gave a soft sigh and tucked her in so she looked more comfortable. He smoothed her hair out of her face and grabbed her rosary off her side table. He regretted he didn’t get her last rites. He wasn’t all that religious, but he knew she was. She didn’t ask for it, though. Maybe she had it arranged while he was at school. He would never know though. Once he was satisfied by how she looked more like she was sleeping, he went to the living room and picked up the phone. 

Call Bucky. 

@tomisbaeholland 

[marvelatthehottotties]

Imagine Loki being in love with you, but you are with his brother Thor.

[marvelatthehottotties]

Avengers: College AU Masterpost

Tony Stark’s famous parties are supposed to be fun! Not life altering! You were here for a good time but you got more than you bargained for.

Hi, guys! Thanks for checking this out! If you want to be put on a tag list for this new series let me know! I’ve been burned out on the hobbit lately and my best friend wanted to collaborate on a story! You can totally ask us any questions and we’ll answer them for you! Each character will have multiple parts! Feel free to request any of the characters too! I’ll update as I go!

Currently we are trying to work on the prologues to each character and then the first chapter to each person. After that we will rotate through the chapters.

Tony - Prologue (Coming Next)

         What was it about cocky frat guys that just drove you wild. Not the good wild. When you thought back on Tony in high school, he was almost reserved. You wished he’d never gotten into MIT. Now all he ever did was brag and try to get into girls pants. Tonight, he was trying to win you like a prize. It leads to you drinking a bit too much. Then fighting.

         Somewhere in the night you find yourself in a cave with a very special rock. One moment you’re reaching out for the glowing rock, the next you’re in your college dorm room with the worst hangover of your life! And within a week, the host of the party is tracking you down asking you some… strange questions…

Steve - Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2

          Parties aren’t normally your scene but they can be fun! Especially when you’re dragging the cute asthmatic art major out with you. Sure most girls wouldn’t go for the bean pole who couldn’t seem to stay out of a fight but you’d be damned if he was the kindest individual. One of these parties was bound to get him loose enough to ask you to be a nude model. And you’d be a great couple! If he knew that you even liked him. 

             Anyway, watching the stars with him is an easy and romantic way to wind down the night, but it’s ruined when the cops show up unannounced, sending the both of you (and a very tipsy Bucky) into the woods to avoid capture. You actually debate that you’ve died when you wake up the next day in your own bed. Steve won’t answer his phone, neither will Bucky. It isn’t until you happen to be passing the track that a suspiciously familiar head of blonde hair flies around the track, and you realize it’s your bean pole…. But he’s not a bean pole anymore…

Bucky - Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2

        There are worse things in life than a party right? Sure. Right… Only your introverted self can’t stand them. You do it for your friends, but you get left pretty early on in the night. And stumble into a beefcake that smells like motor oil and has grease smudges on his hands that somehow decides you are too pure to be left on your own and… adopts you for the night. Not as romantic as you were hoping for, if you’re being honest.

        When you happen to find an unidentifiable rock, you try to stop him from touching it. But he’s a little science nerd and wants to take some for later. He goes to chip away some with some of his tools and there is a burst of light… and the hot mechanic has disappeared on you! You regrettably panic and jump forward to find him… only to touch the rock and wake up in your bed.

Peter - Prologue

Pietro - Prologue

Sam - Prologue

Thor - Prologue

        A lion? No, not quite right. A bear? Maybe… A viking? Definitely! What was it with sexy Scandinavians and them being giants! It was ridiculous how ripped that big guy was. You’d met Thor in a communications class last semester and he had a magnetism that drove girls wild. You were not exempt to his charms, in fact you were so non-exempt it took you being heavily intoxicated to gather the courage to speak with him… only to throw up on his shoes.

      You don’t remember much of the rest of that night, however, when you wake up alone in your bed, wearing Thor’s varsity jacket, there’s more questions than answers. Not only are you mortified, hungover and struggling to remember the night previous, but now lights are acting up around you and this week just keeps getting worse.

Loki - Prologue

       You dreaded parties. Detested them, even. So when you spot another introvert sitting by himself near the pool, reading, you hesitated. You’re always told to branch out, maybe flirt with a boy. He seems nice enough… and he’s incredibly handsome. So maybe you’ll try to talk to him? Or so you think, before you discover he’s a prickly, rude bastard.

      You storm off the property and come across a cave after reading that man his last rites. Only he finds it intriguing and follows you, even if it is just to get away from his brother. Your night spirals into one of the strangest you’ve ever experienced and it only gets worse from there.

Bruce/Natasha - Prologue

Wanda/Vision - Prologue