#He likes rubbing the front fender and the headlight and he likes to rest his head between the mirrors and hug it

[the-bummer-set]

Can you do a one shot with Steve where you get in a scrape ( beat up for some reason) and Steve nurses you back to health ☺️☺️☺️

I LOVED WRITING THIS!!! STRANGER THINGS ONE SHOT REQUESTS ARE OPEN

I also realize I might have taken "scrape" a little to far in this...

   The last thing you wanted was for Steve to see you like this. You never got into fights, but sometimes things are inevitable. Where else were you supposed to go though when home wasn't an option. You didn't want to show up to the Harrington residence unannounced even if you would be welcomed with open arms, the Harrington's loved you like a daughter.  You pulled your car over on the side of the road, got out, and made your way to the phone booth, your fingers dialing the number like it was a part of you.

   "Harrington residence." You heard Mrs. Harrington's voice.

  "Mrs. Harrington, its Y/N, I'm sorry its so late, but could I please talk to Steve if he's still awake." The pain was throbbing in your head, you most likely had a concussion.  You could taste the blood dried up on your lips, rusty.. metallic... bitter and painful.

  "Sure dear.  STEVE Y/N IS ON THE PHONE!" She yelled partially covering the mouthpiece of the phone. "Is everything okay dear, you sound different."

  "I'm okay Mrs. Harrington, just having a bad night." You weren't lying. Things were awful, and you tried to remember what got you into this mess to begin with.

  "Y/N?" Steve answered. "Is everything okay?"

   "Not really." You trailed off. This was embarrassing. There were tiny defensive cuts on your hands and large bruises swelling up on your arms. Everyone would know anyways, there was no covering up these marks. They knew the history anyways.

  "Where are you?" Steve heaved a sigh full of worry. "Did they hurt you?"

  "Yeah..." You tried not to cry, your eye was puffy already and the gash on your cheek burned enough without the threat of saltwater. "I'm at the phone booth on Juniper.."

  "I'll be right there."

  "Steve, don't freak out when you see me..."

  "Just relax, I'll be there soon."

    The crisp air of November wrapped around you and you realized how exposed you were. Jeans, a tank top, and a pair of sneakers. You looked down at the patches of blood, still bright but drying. "He's going to lose his mind when he sees me..." You spoke out loud to no one. You looked up at the sky, it was clear as crystal speckled with the brightest stars you'd seen in a long time. "Some night.." You muttered opening your car door. You slid into the seat and leaned back. Thank goodness you managed to have the heat on. The adrenaline was running on empty and you could feel the coldness setting into your bones.

  The brightness of two headlights pierced the night and your vision. It had to be Steve, but that wasn't Steve's car. His had a distinct shake in the left headlight from that little fender bender he had a few weeks ago. You locked the doors. If it was your attackers again....

    The car pulled over and a boy got out. You would notice that figure anywhere. "Thank god..." It was Mrs. Harrington's car. "Great... now she's going to see me like this too." You sheepishly got out of your car and turned to face them.

  "Oh shit." Steve started before wrapping you gently in a hug. "What the hell happened?"

  "I don't want to talk about it..." You could feel the tears welling up again.   "Okay.. shhh.. its all right, we're going to fix you up."

  Mrs. Harrington waited until Steve let you go. She gave you a sympathetic frown looking you over. "Oh honey," she pulled you in for a hug as well then step away. "I have a first aid kit in the back, we're going to clean you up a bit here, then Steve is going to drive your car back to our place." She grabbed a soft padded first aid kit from the back seat of her car. You nodded.

   "Who did this?" Steve begged you to tell him in the faintest of whispers. "You can tell me."

  "I really don't want to bring it up right now. Can you please just take care of me?" You felt broken; physically, emotionally, mentally.

  "I'm always going to take care of you." He kissed your temple before moving away enough for his mom to start cleaning your wounds.

  "This is probably going to hurt like hell." Mrs. Harrington warned before dumping rubbing alcohol onto a gauze pad. You prepared yourself the best you could... rubbing alcohol can't hurt as bad as some of the other pains you had.

  "The cuts aren't very deep, most likely wont scar up to badly, but if you want to go to the doctor..."

  "No.. no doctors." You interjected. "Thank you Mrs. Harrington, but I'd rather not."

  "That's up to you." She continued. "I want you to stay with us for a while. Whoever did this to you.." She had a clear idea who did. "I don't want them getting to you again. We can set you up in the guest bedroom."

  "She can.." Steve started before getting cut off with a look from his mom.   "The guest room would be great Mrs. Harrington." You moved from the hood of your car, you were stiff, achy...

    The guestroom at the Harrington house was essentially a third master bedroom. Jack and Jill bathroom connecting it to Steve's. Making your way up the steps was more difficult than you cared to admit, but with Steve's help you made it. He pulled the covers down on the bed and had you sit down on the edge.

  "I'm going to go find you something to sleep in." He ran his fingers through your hair and kissed your forehead. "I'll be right back."

  You sat there, finally feeling a little bit at ease, looking around the room. You caught your reflection in the mirror for the first time all night. You were an absolute mess. This time the tears didn't stay at bay. You let a few slip out before trying to swallow the ball of fire in your throat. If you let yourself cry right now, you may never stop.

   "I hope this is okay." Steve came back in holding up an old nightgown of his mothers.

  You wiped the few tears away. "Its more than okay Steve."

  "Hey, no crying... everything is going to be all right, I'm here now." He knelt down in front of you. You looked away from him. "Look at me.." He whispered, you begrudgingly obliged. "I'm going to take care of you. I'm not going to let anyone ever hurt you like this again." He stood up slowly, "I'm going to let you get dressed, then I'll come back in and cuddle you up." He smiled.

  You smiled back. "Doctor Steve..." A small laugh escaped your split lips. "I could get used to that."

   Steve shook his head, glad to see that you were starting to feel a little better by being here with him. "I'll be right outside the door, come get me when you're changed."

   You kicked off your sneakers and socks easily. Even getting your jeans off wasn't that big of an issue. Your tank top on the other hand, posed difficult with the soreness of your shoulder. You felt stupid. Trapped in fabric. You needed help, and it wasn't like Steve hadn't seen you naked before....

   "Steve...." You called him softly from behind the door.

    Steve opened the door, "Ready for cuddles?" He laughed when he saw you. Tank top stuck around your arms.

  "I need help." You pouted. Feeling defeated.

  "You're so damn cute." He pulled the fabric up over your body slowly... exposing more bruising. Whatever happened, you obviously lost. His eyes lingered on them too long making you self conscious.  You put your arms down.

  "Never mind, I'll figure it out." You tried to wiggle free on your own, afraid of him seeing your pain.

  "Stop it Y/N." He wrapped his arms around you. "I'm going to help you, and then I am going to make you feel better."

  You sighed, knowing that there was no way in hell you were going to be able to do this alone. Steve pulled the fabric up again, careful to not bump you or make you uncomfortable. Once shirtless you turned around.  He unhooked your bra and slip the straps down your arms. He kissed the back of your neck letting his hands ghost the path your bra straps started.

  "Steve...." You cooed.

  "Not tonight." He responded. "Tonight, I need to get you comfortable and well rested." Steve grabbed the night gown off the bed. "Arms up the best you can." He chuckled softly as you sighed lifting your arms up to the best of your ability. He tugged the night gown down your body and smiled at you. "You're absolutely beautiful, do you know that?"

  You let a halfhearted smile appear. "You tell me that a lot.. but I never seem to believe you... especially right now." You looked over at your reflection again.

  "You're always beautiful." He kissed you, his lips proving his point, distracting you from the image in the mirror. He broke the kiss. "Now, get into bed and let Doctor Steve nurse you back to health."

  You slid under the covers thankful for such a comfortable bed to sleep in. Steve walked into the bathroom getting a glass of water and a few aspirin from the medicine cabinet. "Here take these, it will make it easier to sleep." You did as you were told.

  "Thank you Steve..."

  "Don't thank me baby..." He answered climbing in beside you. "I'd do anything for you." He pulled you close to him, your head on his chest, his fingers running softly though your hair. "Do you remember when we first met?"  

  "Mmmhmm.." You were finally relaxing enough to realize you were exhausted.  "It was summer time.." He trailed on holding you and peppering your hair with kisses until you fell asleep.  

[delicatelyherdreams]

See You Again

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Following a mission gone wrong, the soldier finds himself stumbling alone in the night, certain he’s going to die. But when a strange woman rescues him, he finds himself in a little pocket of heaven. What happens when reality catches up with him?

Warnings: blood and bullet wounds; language?

Word Count: 3934

The soldier was hurt and he knew it. The wound was gushing blood that was only just barely stifled by his hand and thick stealth suit. He knew he was losing a lot of blood—if he had to guess, he’d already lost two pints by now—but he continued on. He had to make it to the rendezvous point. He had to. They’d have his head if he didn’t.

He stumbled down the dark and vacant road, his vision fading in and out as he dragged his body in the silence.

He was almost there, he was so close.

But he knew he wouldn’t make it, not in the state he was in. He still had a few more miles to go. He’d bleed out by then.

The soldier was defeated, but he didn’t want to accept that. He didn’t want to accept that he was going to die. After so many missions, after so many years, it would be a handful of bullets that finally took him down.

His foot connected with a small hole in the road and he tumbled down to his knees. He gasped in pain at the impact. Normally, it wouldn’t bother him, but tonight was the exception.

He bowed his head. This was it for him. All his life had built up to this one moment: the moment he would die. And, as he accepted his fate, he swore he could see the light that everyone described.

Except...

It was two lights, not one, and they had a yellow-ish tint rather than the blinding white he should be seeing.

And they were coming right for him.

He closed his eyes as the sound of screeching tires filled his ears. Great. On top of his bullet wounds, he was going to get hit by a car. What a night!

But the impact never came.

He cracked his eyes open, coming face to face with the front fender of a car.

The driver’s side door shot open and out climbed a young woman. 

She looked to be about the soldier’s physical age, a youthful glow still about her face, and was dressed in a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt. Her eyes were wide with terror and fear at the sight of him, an expression he was used to. But lying underneath the initial panic, was something he just barely recognized: concern.

She rushed over to him. “Oh my god... Oh my god...” she muttered as she reached out towards him.

If the soldier was strong enough he would’ve shoved her away, told her to leave him for dead, but he wasn’t and just lay there limply as she grabbed hold of his shoulders.

“Sir? Are you okay? Did I— Oh my god!” She’d felt his blood coat her hand and, in the blinding light of her headlights, saw the gaping wound in his abdomen. “You-You’re hurt!”

He could neither affirm or deny her claim, he wasn’t strong enough to make the sounds.

“Shit,” she cursed. “Hold on.” She ran back to her car, disappearing from his sight.

The soldier groaned as he was left on his own. He could feel his consciousness slipping away, bit by bit.

The woman returned a few seconds later, a large white napkin in her hand. “Oh my god, oh my god,” she kept mumbling as she carried it over to him. “Hang on, okay? Just hang on. I’m going to fix you. I can help you, just—”

But the soldier didn’t get to hear the rest of her words because, at that moment, his mind gave in to the numbness that was creeping in.

The last thing he saw was her worried face, gazing down at him.

———

It was warm and soft wherever he was. He couldn’t remember the last time his senses had taken in such a feeling. It was... nice...

But what was that on his hand? What was holding it?

He cracked his eyes open and shifted slightly. His eyes trailed down his arm to his hand where another, smaller hand was covering his. He frowned slightly as he darted his gaze up.

The woman was sitting there at his bedside, her hand resting on top of his as she slept soundly.

He watched her closely. She seemed to be at ease around him and it confused him. No one had ever been so calm around him in all of his memory, let alone calm enough to fall asleep right next to him.

Aside from the woman, there were a few more factors he picked up on. One was he appeared to be in a pretty sterile room. With bare white walls and sparse furniture, the room seemed to belong to a hospital, but he wasn’t sure. Another thing he noticed was that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. The cool air of the room bit at his bare skin that wasn’t covered by bed sheets and it was refreshing. Going down his body, he could feel layers of gauze and bandages wrapped around his abdomen, right around the area of his wound. He could also feel that he still had his pants on, which made him feel a little better. At least this woman hadn’t stripped him down completely.

He attempted to lift his hand to shake her off, but that simple movement proved to be too much for him. The effort prompted stars and spots to dance around his vision.

The woman stirred and snapped awake at the sound. Her head swiveled around rapidly before her eyes settled on the soldier. Slowly a smile covered her face. “Oh, you’re awake.” She took her hand off of his and stretched.

He wished she would set it back down on his hand.

She looked him over. “You almost died there on me. But, lucky for you, I’m a nurse at the local hospital and I knew how to treat you.”

His eyes widened slightly at the mention of a hospital. She wasn’t so foolish as to take him to a hospital, was she? It was bad enough that he’d have to kill her when all this was said and done, but he didn’t want to have to kill everyone else. That would just be a nuisance and an inconvenience.

As if sensing his unease, she smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I didn’t take you to a hospital. You’re in my guest room.” Her eyes turned sad as she looked him over. “You weren’t going to make it to the hospital and I... Well, I saw your arm and I knew that the hospital would be a bad idea.”

He said nothing, though he was a little thankful that she’d had enough common sense about her to keep him in private. That made his job of covering his tracks a lot easier.

“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” she asked softly. “That’s an experimental prosthetic you have there.” Her eyes flickered towards his metal arm which was resting on top of the covers. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like to install it, but I do know that no sane person would even attempt it.”

She was right there, he had to admit. His handlers weren’t sane but then again, neither was he.

She pushed herself up from her chair and walked over to a dresser on the other side of the room that he hadn’t noticed before. She dug into one of the top drawers and pulled out a roll of gauze and some rubbing alcohol among other supplies. “Oh, I’m (y/n) by the way,” she said as she carried the items back to him. “What can I call you?”

He didn’t answer her; he had nothing to answer her with. It felt wrong having her call him “Soldier” or “the Asset,” but he had no name to give her.

(y/n) chuckled. “Not very talkative, are we? No matter. I’ll come up with something for you.” She pursed her lips as she studied his face. “What about Henry?”

He scrunched his nose up in disgust, eliciting a laugh from her. The sound was heavenly.

“Not a ‘Henry’ kind of guy. Fair enough, I knew it was a stretch,” she bit her lip. “Billy?”

Slowly, the soldier shook his head no.

She pouted. “Fine... No Billy. But I’ve got to call you something...” She sat in silent thought for a few moments before offering up one last name. “What about James? It’s a good name and it seems to suit you.”

James...

It felt right so he nodded.

A satisfied grin covered her face. “Good. Well then, James, I need to take this blanket off so I can change your bandages, okay? I don’t want your wound to get infected. Can you lift your arms for me?”

He hesitated for a few seconds before complying.

She quickly peeled back the blanket and got to work cutting off the old bandages and replacing them with new ones.

“I got the bullets out and cleaned them the best I could,” she said absently as she gingerly applied the rubbing alcohol and antibiotics to the holes in his body. “It was enough to make you stable, but really you should be going to the hospital.”

“No,” the soldier muttered. “No hospitals.”

Her head snapped up. Shock was written all over her face. “So you do speak!” 

He said nothing.

“Well, that’s good to know.” She shrugged. “But, James, you were shot. Multiple times. You need professional attention.”

He shook his head. “No hospitals,” he repeated in a low voice.

She didn’t look too convinced, but she let the subject drop. “Okay. Then I’ll do my best.” She finished applying the antibiotics and began to wrap new gauze around his midsection. “Are you hungry? Can I get you any food?”

He didn’t want to take her up on her offer despite the growing hunger in his belly. God, he could kill for some of that mush that his handlers would give him right now but she didn’t need to know that. He was already going to take her life, he wouldn’t take anything else from her.

“I make a mean chicken soup,” she tempted with a sly smile. “You’re going to have to eat if you want to get better.” She didn’t wait for him to protest. “I’ll be back.” And with that, she walked out.

The soldier stared at her as she left the room, leaving him in silence. She was peculiar, that was for certain. He sighed. At least she’d keep him amused for the time being.

———

He stayed in (y/n)’s care for another two days before the bullet wounds were healed enough that he could get up and walk around on his own without too many side effects. 

He had scared the life out of (y/n) after the first night when he had started to venture out. The small house was dead silent as he trekked along, exploring and identifying exits. He’d need a quick escape after he’d gotten rid of her.

She’d come out of her bedroom, a baseball bat held in her shaky hands as she prepared to club him over the head. She would’ve too, if his reflexes weren’t so quick and he’d caught the wood in his metal hand.

The sound of her relieved laughter when she realized it was him would be burned in his brain forever. “Oh my God... It’s just you. What are you doing up? You should be resting.”

He stared her down, simply muttering an “I’m fine” before attempting to continue his examination of the house. He was stopped by a small hand wrapping around his metal wrist. 

“Um, no,” she negated as she began to drag him back to the guest room. “You’re going to rest like a child and you’re going to let me take care of you.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” she snapped cutting him off. “It is one in the morning, I’m tired, and you’re going to do as I say cause this is my house and I want to take care of you.”

The soldier wanted to argue, he always wanted to argue, but he’d been through enough beatings to know when to be submissive. Although he didn’t think that this woman would actually lash out at him like his handlers would, he didn’t want to test her patience and take the risk; he’d be dealing with enough of that when he finally went back. And so, he obeyed and padded along to his room. The soft carpet squished in between his toes as he walked.

(y/n) followed him back to his room, dragging her feet tiredly behind her. He could tell she was tired, but she seemed hellbent on caring for him and making sure he was following the “nurse’s orders.”

He pushed the door to his room back open and quietly entered.

She followed him in and waited until he had climbed back into the bed to sit down in the chair beside the bed. At his questioning gaze, she simply said, “I have to make sure you’re going to stay put somehow, right?”

He found the gesture ridiculous and stupid but oddly endearing. This woman beside him was willing to sacrifice her sleep and well being to make sure he was well? Strange but touching.

The two sat and laid there in silence, simply enjoying each other’s company.

The soldier swore she’d fallen asleep with how quiet she was, but that assumption was shortly negated with the calling out of, “James?”

He hummed.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he responded.

He could almost see the inner war raging in her head as she wanted to ask him more. “What does fine mean?”

“Fine,” he repeated. He lay there in silence, staring up at the ceiling.

She didn’t push him anymore than that.

But by the second night, when he had proved himself well enough to stand and do things on his own, she decided he was well enough to ask him questions.

They had been sitting at her dining table when she finally popped the big question and asked, “Are you in trouble? Are you a captive or is someone forcing you to do things against your will?”

He honestly didn’t know how to answer her. He didn’t have a will or any big weigh in on anything at all. He simply was a tool to be guided by the will of his handlers. So he simply shook his head no. 

She pursed her lips. “Are you mixed in with any crimes or anything illegal?”

Probably. He nodded his head.

The color seemed to drain from her face a bit, but she kept her composure. “I-Is that why you were shot?”

I was shot because the other guy was faster. He nodded.

She nodded too, as if that was the answer she was expecting. “I-I assume that...” She took a shaky breath. “If you’re involved in crime and I-I’ve seen and met you that means...” She was struggling with her words. The soldier could see it. “That means I’ll have to, you know, disappear?”

It was his turn to struggle with words.

He didn’t want her to disappear. Not anymore. He hadn’t known her for long, but she was just so good and pure that it’d be the worst sin to commit to kill her and take her away from the world. He, despite being a monster, couldn’t make himself do that anymore.

“No,” James said quietly. “No disappearing. Just silent.”

At this, she looked up, locking her eyes on his own. “Just silent?” she asked.

He nodded. “I won’t kill you. I won’t make you disappear. You just have to pretend you’ve never seen me. And I will do the same.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Understand?”

She nodded. “I do. And I appreciate it.” She smiled softly. “How much longer can you stay before... Before whoever you’re with comes looking for you.”

They’re probably already looking for me. “One day,” he said. It would take them two days to uncover his tracks and follow him to here, wherever here was.

“One day,” she repeated, letting the time sink in. “I see.” She visibly deflated, almost disappointed by the lack of time she had with him.

But the strangest thing was that he was disappointed too. James wanted to stay with her. In the last few days, he’d felt something changing inside of him from the exposure to her kindness and goodness. And he didn’t want that to go away.

However, HYDRA would come for him and they would kill anyone who got in their way or who bore witness to them. That included (y/n). James needed to leave to protect her.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered, reaching across the table to rest his flesh hand over hers. “I’ll be fine.”

She looked uncertain, but she also knew that he would. She’d witnessed firsthand just how fast he healed; after all, his wounds that were less than a week old were already closed and starting to scab over. And so, she nodded. “Okay. Then tomorrow, I guess you’ll be...”

“I’ll be leaving,” he confirmed.

“Thought so.” She took a shaky breath. “Well. I guess we’ll just have to make the most out of the night we have left.” She pushed herself up from the table and moved over to the phone hanging on the wall. “You seem well enough to eat solids now, I’m going to order us a pizza.” She picked it up and began to dial.

James was over there and slamming the phone back onto the receiver within an instant, his eyes ablaze. “No. No people,” he hissed.

She stared up at him in shock.

He could hear her heart beating fast in response to his sudden movement. It was then that he realized just how close together they were. Their chests were practically touching and her hands were resting against his front. He could feel her breath ghosting over the skin of his neck and it sent shivers down his spine.

She stood still as a statue as she watched him carefully, waiting for him to make a move.

He slowly took his hands off the phone. “No people,” he said again.

She nodded. “I know. No one will come here. I order the pizza on the phone and then I go to get it. Yes?”

He didn’t like it. He didn’t want her to leave on the off chance that something would happen to her. But he nodded, backing away to let her make the call.

She ordered their pizza and left to go get it. She returned a half hour later, not a single scratch on her body, holding a large and warm box. She set it down on the table and let him serve himself first.

He took a single piece, only daring to get more when she prompted him to eat to his heart’s content. He’d never had that freedom to eat as much as he wanted before. It was nice. He ate three fourths of the pizza much to (y/n)’s amusement. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate that much in one sitting.

By the time they were done eating, they had migrated from the dining room to the couch. They lay there, sprawled out next to each other, just barely touching, as they watched the television in a warm silence.

James felt content and he couldn’t help but think that this was something he could get used to.

He glanced at (y/n) through his lashes.

She had her eyes closed and a lazy smile covered her lips. She was beautiful lying there in her natural state of being. Her hand lay open next to her. It practically begged for James to just reach over and lace her fingers in his.

He complied.

She opened her eyes, a little startled by the sudden presence, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she just squeezed his hand tenderly, happy for the company.

And he’d never felt more complete. If he could just frame this one moment and keep it forever, he would. Because what came next, he never wanted to face.

———

The next morning came as a disappointing shock to the both of them who, over the past few days, had grown used to the other’s company.

It was before dawn when they had to say “goodbye.”

He stood at the door, tactical gear strapped on and ready to go. He should’ve just left, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to go without saying goodbye to the woman who had nursed him this week. He had to see her before he went because he didn’t think he ever would again. He glanced behind him and a smile crept onto his face.

(y/n) was in the kitchen making him a sandwich “for the road.” Of course she was. It was just in her nature to be good. She was good... Too good for him. 

He’d miss her. He’d miss her dearly and with all his heart. 

A few moments later, she emerged from the kitchen holding a small bag with what appeared to be a turkey and cheese sandwich inside and the most forlorn look he had ever seen on a human face.

She walked over to him, her feet heavy as they dragged on the ground and she offered him the sandwich.

James took it without a word and slipped it into one of his large pockets.

“Will I see you again?” she asked after a bit. The heartbreak was evident in her voice; she was genuinely sad that he was leaving and it made his heart ache.

He looked down at her, his heart heavy as he answered her, “No.” The single syllable was firm, resounding, and heavy in his mouth. He hated having to say it, but it needed to be done.

Her face visibly fell. She expected this, she just wasn’t prepared. “I see...” She drew in a shaky breath and peered up at him. “Then... Just be safe, okay?”

He nodded. “I will. I promise.” And with that, he began to walk away; away from her, away from the normalcy, back towards hell on earth.

It was hard on his soul to leave her. He didn’t want to but he had to.

And yet...

He didn’t know what took him over when he turned on his heel and ran back towards her. He caught her off guard as he charged her and grabbed her by the waist, scooping her up and planting his lips on hers.

She responded instantly, her arms wrapping around his neck and tangling themselves in his hair.

This kiss was unlike anything he had ever felt. It was true and caring, and he cherished it as much as he could.

He’d go back. He’d go back to his handlers, his pain, his hell. But it would be all the easier to endure now with his memories of her and the knowledge that she would be safe. And he knew that, if fate willed it, they would see each other again.

He’d just have to wait for the day.

But for now, he had to leave.

He set her down and pulled away, his lips lingering as he rested his forehead against hers. “Goodbye,” he whispered softly. He pushed her back from him and turned, running into the darkness to resume his life as the Winter Soldier, the fist of HYDRA, a monster who didn’t deserve her goodness and love.

Next: I See You

Bucky Barnes Taglist: @cauraphernelia @thorins-queen-of-erebor @ria132love @moonstruckhargrove @free-as-fishes @jitterbuck @mallorydoesstuff @baneofkoveras05 @trashpanda-barnes

Sebastian Stan Taglist: @mywinterwolf

Permanent Taglist: @dont-speak-just-read @becauseismellgood @impalaimages @breezy1415 @lou-la-lou @aestheticapricity @a-book-pressed-rose @watchoutforfrostbite @dragonborn791924 @everythingisoverrated @extreme-supernatural-lover

[putaloadintrucks]

Newcomer coming

The refueling station, More well known in the area as Inline Fuel, was a ghost town.

The moon rested high in the sky above the gas station and café, bathing the ground below in pale white light. The seldom street lights of the area could barely keeping the area around it from being bathed in darkness in the shadows., therefore some parts of the station bordering the forest where black, only little bits of lights from the fireflies keeping the area from being smothered in absolute darkness. It was quiet as well, barely any animals being heard in the area, most having ventured further up into the mountains to sleep or eat, therefore leaving the grounds nearby nearly devoid of sound. It was almost like life itself had decided to leave the area.

That was exactly how the three cars resting there wanted it to be like. They could see each other in the Pale light off the moon, staying away from under the owning of the refueling station itself to get the full coverage of the moon upon them. Two of the vehicles there had V8 valley police markings across their bodies; the third had various states of paint peeling and rust along their body. All three where quietly talking in the light.

“Ya’lls job doing okay?” said female a voice belonging to the rusty, peeled large body Chevy

“As any I reckon, been slow cause of the off season sadly” grumbled a voice, belonging to a much larger bodied Suv.

“Jaslo had to go back for the time being, No reason for she to be here if there is no violators” also grumbled a voice, this one belonging to a smaller vehicle, a younger looking Caprice Cop.

“Aww that sucks, your BFF left, whatever shall yah do Dodger” cackled the female voice, earning a growl from the Caprice.

“You shut your mouth Christine, She at least made it interesting with the pranks we pulled” Dodger grumbled, sinking his body low onto his frame, the wheels tucking up into the wheel wells.

“Come over here big boy and make me, Bet yah would like tah get yer dick wet, Now wouldn’t yah” teased Christine, earning another growl from Dodger, though that was interrupted by the loud rumble of the Suburban

“Quiet you too, Not now.” He growled, earning a sigh from the Caprice and an eye roll from the Chevy

“Yeah Vic, whatever” sulked Dodger, Christine patting his hood playfully, earning a rumble from the unhappy Caprice.

“So when are all ya lovebirds going on vacation, Heard about it down the grapevine. I think Jay even knows at this point” Christine asked, Dodger giving a soft yawn as the stars above them softly twinkled in the night sky. Vic sighed, resting as well on his frame as well as the Chevy truck grinned.

“Who at this point doesn’t know” grumbled Vic, trying his best not to sulk more. Christine gave a soft smiling, nuzzling the older Chevys headlight, murring softly to him as the Suburban leaned into her.

“Yah’ll have a great time, Ah know it” she purred, Vic murring back as Dodger rolled his eyes.

“Didn’t take you as a lover of older guys too Christy, whatever shall Jay do” Dodger stated, giving a dramatic sigh as Vic gave a grumble. For his mouth, Dodger got a tire to the grill, yelping as some of the grill bands broke or bent inwards. “Damnit Christine” he growled, rubbing one of his tires over the damaged areas.

“Shut your mouth sometimes, and maybe you won’t be hit. You would think after the shit with Jaslo that you would have learned” Vic uttered as Christine pulled away from him, A raspberry escaping from her lips as Dodger whimpered, wondering how he was gonna fix this later.

“So about that whole rumor I heard about you two…” started Christine, earning a well-placed tire into the mouth as Vic glared at her.

“No, nothing happened, I am tiring of hearing about it, Shut up about it. You are like the eight person to ask about it and I am frankly tired of hearing it” he answered, grumbling as his maroon eyes glared into Christine’s. She gave a shrug, pulling the tire from her mouth, but not before she give a long wet lick across Vic’s rim, causing him to Yelp and pull the tire quickly back

“Fair enough Grandpa” she said, smirking as Vic continued his grumbling and Dodger his whining. “So when are you guys leaving for this vacation anyway? I might have to ask come along and Bring Jay. Make this a whole adventure for all of us” she asked.

“Probably not for another month, need to finalize all this bullshit of paperwork. You would think after nearly 10 years of no one taking a vacation here, that they would happily let us go, but no we have to go through mounds of paperwork each just to make this official” Mumbled Dodger with Vic softly nodding in response.

“Its ah hassle, But we will get it done” Vic stated, earning a murr of approval from both Christine and Dodger. “I do have a question for you Christine, What do you even do for a job anyway?” he asked, earning a puzzled look from Christine.

“ Odd jobs mostly, whenever someone needs tah do a job, but doesn’t want to mess up their paintwork, they call me” she answered. “ Why you asking?”

“Cause we need someone to do undercover around here, catching speeders and all that, and the country finally decided to send a larger budget our way this year for once. Jobs open if ya want it” answered Vic back, Dodger sputtering as Christine’s grin grew wider..

“Me ah cop eh, Hear tat Dodger, Ah could fuck with yah even more” Christine said happily, nudging the Caprice who looked more like a fish at the moment than a vehicle. “Ah’ll need to ask Jay what she thinks of it, don’t need her worrying more about me than she already does” she mused as Vic softly chuckled.

“Position is open if ya want it, we would be glad to have you. Isn’t that right Dodger” Vic stated, turning towards the Caprice, giving him a glare as Dodger weltered under the intense gaze of his boss.

“Y-Y-yeah boss, whatever you say” he half heartily chuckled, Christine holding back a giggle at the Cars meekness.

“It’s getting late, we should probably be heading home” mused Vic, earning nods from the two cops as they popped on their headlights. As they did so however, more powerful beams of headlights started to glow around the bend near them, the soft rumble of an engine heading up their mountain becoming more and more audible as the Three turned to the approaching lights.

“Now who in same hell is heading up this mountain at 2 in the morning” grumbled Vic, the lights becoming brighter and brighter with each second.

“An idiot probably” quipped Dodger, earning a fender smack for his comment from Christine, who continued to watch the lights approach. The lights continued to grow, the rumble more audible with each second until the vehicle popped around the corner, but what kind of vehicle was hidden by the intense lights coming from the top of the vehicle, roof LEDs if any indication from the brightness. The lights turned, following the vehicle as it pulled into the rest stop, stopping in front of the three, The lights boring into the threes eyes, making them squint under the intense high beams.

“Hey Guys, Ah was wondering if you guys could help me find the Quickslip cabins? I’m moving into the area, but I am ah little lost in regards to finding them” the vehicle quipped, earning a growl from Vic.

“ Up the road and take a right kid, and for Chryslers sake, turn those beams off, Yah gonna blind someone” he growled as the vehicle eeped, the beams on top of his roof dying out as the car chuckled.

“Sorry about that sir, didn’t mean to blind yah guys” said the now visible vehicle. A minivan formed beneath the lights, though from the height of it and the tires underneath him, It was not the little minivans that came here for vacations.

“What’s your name Kid” mumbled Dodger, earning an eye roll from Christine as the Van stumbled on his words.

“My-MY NAME? Uh, Cade. Call me Cade” he quickly responded, earning a giggle from Christine as the Van blushed softly, embarrassed.

“Be safe going up those mountains kid, It’s a dozy” stated Christine, earning nods of approval from the two other vehicles and Cade perked up.

“Yes M’am” he said saluting with his antenna before he turned back towards the road, his high beams kicking back on as he slowly moved back up the pass, the three vehicles watching him disappear around the forested edge of the road.

“Anyone else have the feeling they’ve seen the kid before?’ quipped Dodger, earning a rumble of approval from Vic and a nod from Christine.

“Yeah and I have a feeling we will be seeing more of him around here as well, especially if he is moving here” she answered. None of the vehicles could disagree with her, soft rumbles coming from all three before they all peeled away in different directions.

Whoever the Van was, Life in the Valley continued, with or without you.

No matter what.

[olivereliott]

Custom Bikes Of The Week: 14 June, 2020

A pair of Yamaha TZ racers that have never even been started up, a most unusual 1980s MZ two-stroke, a beastly Honda CBX1000, and a Royal Enfield Bullet 500 gets the steampunk treatment.

MZ ETZ 250 by Kraftrad Noeda Some bikes lend themselves to being turned into cafe racers. According to Martin at Kraftrad Noeda in Germany, a dusty old 1980s MZ two-stroke is not one of them. After being coerced into buying this 1985-model MZ ETZ 250, Martin simply stuck it in the corner of his shop, reluctant to actually work on it.

When he did start tinkering, he and his team quickly realized what they were in for. The stance was all wrong, and the ETZ has an unusual top clamp—so Kraftrad Noeda had to fabricate a new set of triples. Then they extended the swingarm, to increase the MZ’s short wheelbase to something more reasonable.

The new arrangement called for a set of shocks with an uncommon length, so a set of YSS units were milled to fit. But the swingarm’s new angle was causing the chain to rub against the frame, so Martin and his team had to design their own roller guide.

The rest of the work was equally extensive. The motor was rebuilt and taken up to 300 cc, and an exhaust system was built using parts from a KTM 300 and an aftermarket muffler. A Yamaha XS500 tank was reshaped and fitted to the bike, along with a custom-made tail unit. Even though it’s intentionally scrappy-looking, this little MZ should be surprisingly fun to ride. [More]

A pair of untouched Yamaha TZs Our good buddy Tim Huber just stumbled upon a pair of two-stroke auction lots that have our mouths watering: a 1978 Yamaha TZ350 (above) and a 1980 Yamaha TZ500. Both are being sold by the original owner (we’re guessing it’s the same person, since both bikes are in Toyko), and, most miraculously, neither motor has ever been started.

Both of these bikes are thoroughbred two-stroke race bikes. The TZ350 broke cover in 1973 in spectacular fashion, with Finnish racer Jarno Saarinen taking first at the Daytona 200. By 1978, the water-cooled TZ350 was sporting dual piston brakes, and a mono-shock rear suspension arrangement.

The TZ500 was Yamaha’s first commercially-sold road racer, and arguably one of their most iconic models. That’s thanks in no small part to Mr Kenny Roberts, even if the TZ500 was more of a replica than a direct copy of his race bike. Packed with what at the time was considered modern technology, the TZ’s unmistakable silhouette is what really sets it apart. Look at it long enough, and you start to pick out shapes that would come to define sportbike design in the 80s.

If you’re feeling rich, the TZ350 is expected to fetch between ¥1,000,000 and ¥2,000,000 (that’s about $9,315 to $18,630 in US currency), and the TZ500 between ¥5,500,000 and ¥7,500,000 ($51,231 to $69,861). Both bikes will ship with a wooden box of unused spare parts, and the TZ500 even comes with a set of Goodyear slicks.

Honda CBX1000 by Cafe Racer Sspirit One hundred horsepower isn’t mind-blowing by today’s standards, but back in the early 80s it was a big deal—and part of the allure of Honda’s whopping six-cylinder CBX1000. But despite that, the CBX wasn’t a major sales hit, so Honda redesigned it as a sports tourer.

When Spanish shop Cafe Racer Sspirit got their hands on an 81 CBX, they had a clear goal: “Build a powerful and interesting and ‘beastly’ CBX with interesting components.” So they stripped off the fairings, and reworked the 80s sports tourer as a purposeful retro muscle bike. But the changes had to go deeper than just bodywork, so the crew also decided to swap out the Honda’s running gear.

On went a full complement of Triumph Speed Triple 1050 parts, including the forks, wheels, brakes, swingarm and rear shock. If that sounds like a simple plug-and-play job, it wasn’t—it reportedly took a fair amount of finessing to get everything to work. They also added a six-into-one exhaust system from GR Exhaust, and set of Pirelli Supercorsa tires.

Up top, Sspirit shortened and installed the tail cowl from an older CBX, along with a custom seat. Other parts include clip-ons, Tarozzi rear-sets, a Motogadget speedo and turn signals, and an LED headlight. With improved handling, a killer soundtrack and punch-in-the-face looks, this CBX ticks all our boxes. [More]

Royal Enfield Bullet 500 by GDesign The venerable Royal Enfield Bullet is one of the most rudimentary bikes you can still buy today. Italian builder Giacomo Galbiati at GDesign knows this all too well; the simple single-cylinder engine is the reason he picked it for this project.

Giacomo likes to build unusual machines, and so the Royal Enfield combines a board track style with almost steampunk-esque elements. It’s laden with handcrafted pieces—like a split fuel tank that holds the electronics in one half and fuel in the other. It’s adorned with hand-made aluminum wings and a winged gas cap, and the speedo and amp meter are embedded up top.

The front forks are aftermarket units from India specific to the Bullet, but they turned out to be poorly made and rickety. So Giacomo pulled them apart to weld, strengthen and rebuild them. The wheels are off-the-shelf numbers from the UK.

There’s a ton of detailing work on this board tracker—from the subtle split in the repurposed Kawasaki rear fender, to the etching on the velocity stack.

The cockpit’s kitted with swept-back bars, leather-wrapped grips and reverse levers, and the sprung solo saddle’s sporting a stunning contrast stitch. Whether the black and gold combination hits the right notes for you or not, there’s no denying Giacomo poured everything into this build. [More]