#You can pry Hero with silent laughter from my dead cold hands

[kanene-yaaay]

To Catch a Hero’s Giggle

Alternative Title: Golden Child

Kanene’s Notes: This fic is heavily inspired by This Headcanon that is basically that Hero has a natural quiet laughter and everyone likes to pretend that they ‘stole’ his giggles while tickling him

Warnings: This one has a lot of tickles dfghjhgfgh. Angst with a happy ending. Hurt/Comfort. Raspberries. Lee!Hero and Ler!Sunny&Ler!Kel. Around 3.500 words.

[~*~]

The top is a lonely place.

Actually, thinking about where he is - in the highest spot - feels weirdly frustrating. This numb feeling as he stared at the good grade on his newest text, the lack of even a small sparkle of proudness or relief at knowing that he did it again, the neutral tune of his face, the constant tiredness on his bones… none of this felt like the top. Like the best version of himself, like the amazingness and peak of development that he could achieve.

Yet, that was what everyone around him told that it was his place. The top of his class. The top of the students. The top of his school.

Hero had listened to it for years now, he had even fought with all his power for the title. And still he wondered when it would ever begin to make sense for him, to mean something for him.

(He wondered when he would look at the mirror with the same shine of pride and trust that his teachers and parents had when talking to him.)

"Hey, Hero! How did you do?" 

Hero didn't grimace, because that was his classmate and she was nice. In any other and every other situation that didn’t involve school or grades, she was really nice. 

Unluckily for him, that was not the case today.

"How did you do?" A smile, a curious look. Usually that would be enough to trail the attention away.

"I got a D! Not as brilliant as you, I guess, but still enough to pass so yeah!"

"D is still a good grade. I am glad you got it!"

"Hm mm, but still you're not running away from the question. Tell me, what did you get?"

His hand began scratching the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. "Ah, nothing much, just a B." He chuckled in good humor.

"Nothing much? Hero, I would commit crimes for your grades! Uuuurg, and you don't even look happy for it, too. Come on, I would be shooting fireworks if I was you right now. Is being that good just so normal for you, golden student, that you don't even care about them anymore?"

Words appeared and died in his tongue. A mix of "You’re not me" and "but I don't feel happy" and "Please don't call me that". Instead, he smiled and opened his mouth to say something (anything).

Scratch, scratch, scratch. He could almost feel the spotlight. It was starting to irritate, burn his skin.

Another classmate cut them.

"Hey, hey, Heroooo, my man!" That was June. She was nice and the arm that he slipped across his shoulders in a half hug made warmth spread across the touch. She was nice. "Sorry for cutting you short but I really need you to explain the subject of our Literature test like right now." 

His eyes ran at the clock above the white board on the room. It was lunchtime, their literature test would be in the period right after it.

"Of course!" Smile. Suddenly, he was back at his comfort zone, with notes and books and subjects that don’t make any sense, but when you start to stare at them long enough with a tilted head you can start to see the connections. "Do you have any questions in mind? What was the part you got the most confused?"

In a blink his own literature notebook was on his hands, pages being fastly flipped as the boy looked for where his notes were. 

Silence. The arm slipped from his shoulders.

Hero looked up. June laughed, with a tiny drop of awkwardness and bit her thumb with a dangerous smile as she avoided the other's eyes.

"Everything."

Hero stopped. Blinked. There was a light tremble in his words.

"The seven chapters about art schools?" 

"Yep." She popped the p. "And the historical context. And the authors. And characteristics." Hero must have shown a glimpse of the dread he was feeling inside because soon June was holding his hand and kneeling on the not-so-clean-and-where-did-all-this-ink-even-came-from-floor. "Please, Hero, please! I know that I haven't studied anything but you're so great at teaching. I will owe you that one, please!"

"Ok! Ok!" Hero fumbled a bit with his own hands, feeling a mix of relief to take over his movements. No one should be so desperate to get his help. And how could he even say no to her? "It's fine, it is a very long subject but we have one hour before the class so I think we can cover a bit more than the basics." 

His face became more serious, determinated eyes. "Get your book. We're going to meet on the tree next to the entrance, alright?"

"Perfect!" June jumped in the same place. "Thank you so much, Hero!"

"It is fine." And it really was, Hero loved to teach. But…"I am always happy to help, but next time, please ask me a day or two before the test." 

"Of course, dude!" And she was already out the door. 

Deep sigh. Hero looked at the clock. Actually, he took like one week to study all that stuff, however, maybe if he got the main historical events and explained how those affected the literature, architecture and worldview of each age, perhaps he could summon the main points of everything.

Another minute ticked by. Hero got his sandwich from his bag, already opening and taking a bite. Today was going to be a long day.

At least June was truly nice.

(...)

The thing about having Sunny as a neighbor is that sometimes he was just… there.

Hero, in his spot laid on the floorboards of his room - having fallen there after coming back from school and realizing that Kel was still out with the basketball group, - stared wide eyed at the deep dark eyes that curiously peaked at him from above. As soon as his brain clicked and he recognized the boy, however, his fast heartbeats began to calm down.

“Sunny!” He didn’t really want to get up, the cold floor soaking through his clothes and resting on his skin making all his muscles relax and keeping his mind from floating away. Still, he sat and turned around to stare at the younger with a pleasant quirk of lips. “Did you come to see Kel? He is still at his basketball practice. I am sure that you can still find him if you go to the park.”

Sunny looked back at him, his face was less pale and his movements less sluggish. It was good to actually see him more often, see the light come back bit by bit in his eyes. The same attentive eyes that fixed their attention at the taller boy, the silence stretching across the room before Sunny seemed to arrive at a conclusion, lightly nodding his head before popping himself on the floor right at his side.

He pulled his knees up and rested his chin on them and Hero opened his mouth, wanting, but not knowing how to explain that he really wasn’t a fun company right now.

“Heh. Sunny, I-”

A hand rested on his. The cold fingers patting his hand twice before a phone screen was basically shoved in his face.

Hero blinked, chuckled and adjusted himself to see what was on the device. It was a video of a small duck shaking himself and walking excitedly behind its owner with a light and quick ‘pap pap pap’.

He smiled, much more naturally this time, and pretended to not notice how thick with emotion was his voice. “This is cute.”

Sunny nodded, seeming content with himself, before turning back to watch something else. Probably more videos with ducks.

“Right.” Hero mumbled for anyone in particular. Deep breath. “Alright.”

Something hot ran across his cheek. And another. And another. And another.

It felt like burning, almost as bad as his eyes. Almost as annoying as the itch on his nose, the dryness of his throat.

Still, the floorboards were cold. They were brown and smooth and filled with dents wherever the tip of his fingers passes, result of years and years of both him and Kel having more accidents than the normal amount for two boys with inexplicable clumsy tendencies.

Still, there was a cold hand on his and the sound of puppies ‘yip yap yap’ and ducks ‘pap pap pap’ in the air smiling at it felt a bit easier.

 Breathe.

Hero stared at the ceiling for a pieces of minutes, letting himself slowly close his eyes as his breathing got slower. 

What a long day.

(...)

He opened his eyes, rubbing them and yawning as the consciousness slowly creeped back to his senses. His gaze travelled to the window, confirming that it was still afternoon and that possibly didn’t doze off for more than an hour. 

Stretching on the floor, the older one realized that Sunny was still there, unfolding from the tight ball he usually imitated when sitting down and answering his gaze with his own curious eyes.

Hero smiled.

Sunny was a good friend.

His smile quickly turned into a grin.

“Sunny. There is something on your face, come here for a second.”

One blink, two blinks, Sunny came closer. Hero tried to not let his plan ( or mischief) show too much on his face.

“Just a little bit closer.”

He opened his arms, Sunny moved to attend his request. Hero’s arms got closer and…

Bam!

*HERO captures you in a hug!*

With a squeak, Sunny trash for a second before realizing what was happening and letting himself fall on the floor with a small smile, amused titters making his shoulders bounce for a bit before he let himself be hugged like a teddy bear with no complaints.

“Thank you, Sunny. You’re a really good friend.” 

The younger boy didn’t answer him, but it didn’t matter. The silence that fell on them wasn’t in any way awkward. There was no need for words when all of his acts and little expressions showed how much Sunny cared.

Hero only kept him in the embrace for a couple more of seconds, giving the boy a quick squeeze before letting him go as a dazzling smile took over his face. Now it was time for him to show a bit how he cared about the younger too.

That was enough sulking for one day.

“Kel still hasn't arrived, huh? What if we both play a game then? I am sure we still have that old Spaceboy videogame where you can race his-”

“Another game.”

The voice was low, but for the way that made him immediately stop right on his tracks could be the loudest shout to ever exist. Hero tried to not let the immense wave of pride that filled his chest everytime Sunny decided to express his opinion show in his expression.

“Do you want to play another game?”

Sunny nodded, lightly pushing Hero’s shoulder so he would be laying down again. Hero let himself fall with an amused light in his face.

How could he deny that boy anything, really.

“What game is it?”

Sunny shrugged, as if not sure, he didn’t wonder about it too much, however, the shorter quickly calling his attention by lightly shaking his hands and lifting them. 

Hero tilted his head, confused and still amused. Kids nowadays are so fun.

Sunny repeated the movement.

“Ah!” Finally, it clicked. Hero lifted his own arms. Was this a new version of Worm? He and Kel used to play it all the time as kids, even though his mother never seemed excited in seeing her two sons wiggling around the floor like two invertebrate beings. “Like this?”

The younger nodded, patting the arms for a good measure and a clear message of ‘stay’.

Then he lifted his own hands again, Hero watched attentively, ready to follow the instructions to the next step of the game.

That was the moment Sunny shoved his hands on his sides.

The sound that came out of his mouth was a half gasp and a half squeal, arms immediately crashing down in an attempt to catch and stop the onslaught of squeezes and pinches that were being delivered all across the ticklish skin.

“Suhuhunny!!” As quick as the giggling came, it went away, being immediately replaced airy titters and low, almost inaudible laughter, especially as Sunny spidered his nimbly fingers upwards in order to escape the hands that tried to pry him away, each prod and poke on his sensitive ribs making the older one arch his back and let out a single high pitched squeak that made his entire face explode in warmth. “W-why!”

Sunny only hummed contently, letting his hands rest cozy and snug on his highest ribs, the tip of his fingers just scratching the tip of his armpits while the thumbs kneaded the ribs with energy. Soon enough more and more loud high pitched squeals and squeaks began breaking the quietness of his laughter only for Hero to descend right back and his hysterical airy giggles all over again, arms clued on his sides, torso squirming from a side to another in lazy, futile wiggles that did nothing to actually stop the sudden tickle attack.

“Got you.” Sunny’s voice was as calm as ever, with plenty of a playful joy blossoming on it freely. “I will steal all of your giggles for myself…” 

His attack went back to his sides, however instead of maddening squeezes or killer pinches, Sunny simply laid his hands on the skin and vibrated. 

Hero jumped, merely wheezing before inaudible snickers that made his shoulders bounce with giddiness bubbly right out of his lips.

“Got them. They’re mine now.” Hero almost wished that his laughter was as loud and boisterous as Kel’s just so it wouldn’t be so easy to listen to Sunny’s teasy remarks, which weren’t even that teasy in the first place, lacking the smugness Aubrey had during her tickle attacks or Kel’s mischievous pokes of fun, but his words right now sounded just so sincerely happy that all that Hero could do at the this was let out an embarrassing snort that made his cheeks even more warm, the gigantic smile plastered on his face getting wobblier.

Especially as he heard a voice from his doorway.

“Are we tickling Hero?”

The immediate cry of “No!” that flew from his voice was quickly subdued by the fact that the younger violin player decided to change his technique to a skilled scribbling that concentrated too much on the spot where his sides connected with his stomach to be a coincidence. The word died in the air just as Hero’s bouncy snickers got even bouncier and even snickery, Sunny’s affirmative hum instead filling the room.

“Great!”

“Don’t!” Hero managed to slip in between his chuckles, opening a watery eye just to face the one thousand watts smirk of his younger brother, a smirk full of promises of danger and his very immediate doom. His brain run though arguments to find anything, anything promising enough to discourage Kel from helping Sunny but all he got was the same mantra of “it tickles it tickles it ticklesitreallytickles” that scrambled his thoughts any time that wiggly fingers even looked at his direction. 

“I’m going to-” Wheeze. 

“I can’t-” Yelp. 

“When I-” A hiccup. More airy giggles.

Finally, he acquiesced, accepting his fate. “Plehehehease.”

“You’re tickling his sides? Nice idea, Sunny! That is a very good spot.” Kel carelessly threw his bag somewhere on the floor running to sit right at his brother’s sides, taking full advantage of the situation where Hero couldn’t scold him for that. “But you have to see his reactions when I tickle his legs! It’s like a super secret spot that can get him crazy every single time!”

Hero actually jumped when a hand lifted his leg, a few half-heartedly kicks with no real effort showing his struggle as he shook his head in protest.

“He always gets all squirmy when I do that but he never actually tells me to stop.” Kel ‘whispered’ (which, for Kel’s standard, was a lowered shout). “Even when he kicks me it’s so light that I can barely feel it. I think that he really doesn’t mind being tickled but I don’t tell him that I know or he would be really embarrassed.”

Sunny seriously nodded in understanding. Hero wondered if his face was trying to melt with how hot it was. Maybe if he tried enough he could be able to get that invisibility power he always wanted as a kid.

He kicked again. 

“Watch this.” Kel whispered to Sunny, who decided to stop his own attack so the taller could get some interrupted oxygen. Two sets of watchful eyes turned in Hero’s direction. “Ha! This one wasn’t even close, Hero. Try again!” And then Kel’s hand found his calf and began kneading.

The force of the crackle that was fished from his throat made Hero shoot his head backwards, arms failing around for a couple of seconds before he fell back on the floor, quiet, fast and impossible to hide began dancing around in the room like a sweet melody.

“Ok, ok!” Kel, like the little demon he is, laughed together with him. “Now you just need to do this and…” His fingers crawled a few inches closer to his knee, attacking the spot with squeezes and pinches non stop. A snort shot in the air. And another. And another. And another. “Tcharam!! A snorty piggie coming right up.”

“Kehehehel! Don’t!”

“Make me.” Kel raspberried at him, suddenly stopping the banter when he saw his neighbor moving like he was snatching something out of thin air. “Eh? Did you catch a mosquito?”

Sunny shook his head, a grin on his face. Hero turned his attention to him as well when the boy repeated the gesture.

“I am catching Hero’s snorts.”

“Ohohoho my gohohod.” Sunny telegraphed his movements enough that when the oldest’s protest began disappearing in a wheezy crackle he was already “snatching” it from the air. “Stohohohop!”

“Ah! I get it! But you can’t have only his snorts, Sunny. Look! I can make him do other sounds too.”

Suddenly there were scritchess and scratches worming their way on the extremely, awfully, horribly ticklish skin under his knee, giving every inch of it a special attention as more and more silly sounds fell in flocks from his lips.

“There is a giggle!”

“And a yelp!”

“Quick, catch this squeak, it’s already floating away.”

As Kel and Sunny kept their play pretend, Hero started to feel like he was going to explode, and, in an unexpected bound of energy the flew forward and catched Kel’s hands, holding them with a triumphant grin - which was cracking at the corners with leftover chuckles, it’s true, but still - as he stared down at the brother in front of him.

“Heyyy, Hero.” Kel smiled nervously. “I, huh, er, uh…”

“Hi, Kel.” He was careful enough to put a playful growl at the end of the younger’s name. “Missed your old friend, the Tickle Monster?”

“Eek! Aaaaah!! He is going to tickle me! Sunny!”

“Don’t worry, the Tickle Monster has two hands. One for each ticklish boOOOY!”

A sensation exploded across his senses. A buzzing that began in the back of his neck and spread like a tickly electricity across all his nerves, teasing his ears, dancing on his chin, zig zagging over his spine and humming over his torso.

“Yes! Get him, Sunny! More raspberries until the Tickle Monster is defeated!”

Quickly another raspberry followed the first, and then another and another over and over again, all of them unfairly attacking his unprotected neck. For a moment Hero lost himself in uncontrollable belly laughter, in smiles, in airy snickers, teetery titters and in a maddening sensation that made everything else but the constant idea that “It tickles!” disappear from his mind in a blink.

After some time, he was tapping the floor, happy tears running on his cheeks and a wheezy “enohohohough” flying from his lips as the tickling went away. Sunny running to stay at Kel’s side as his friend called him for a winning high five.

“We did it. We defeated him!” Kel’s excited voice made amusement fill his chest. Kids are so fun nowadays. “Your raspberry attack was a good idea.”

Breathe in. Breathe out. Giggle giggle giggle.

“But, eh, why were we tickling Hero?”

At this, Hero’s head shoot upwards, body slowly unfolding from the defensive ball it tried to mimic to watch Sunny with an equally curious gaze.

The shortest eyes glanced at his form for a bit, but before Hero could think anything out of it (was he going to tell-) Sunny just shrugged.

Silence.

“Ok! Hey, Sunny, since you’re here, we should play a game!”

Their neighbor grinned, just the tiniest tiny bit. 

Hero wondered if he, as a good older brother, should warn Kel.

“Do you have any idea of a good one?”

But nah. Hero sighed - a mix of relief and a calm contentment that spilled from his soul and filled his heart. He would let them have their fun.

[wayward-riana]

Soothing Chords | Bucky Barnes

Summary: Bucky's life is poisoned by his constant nightmares but Y/N has the perfect antidote.

Warnings: Brief mentions of anxiety and sadness. Nightmares. Fluff.

Grey clouds loom over the night sky. The trees rustle each time the wind gushes through. The compound is dead silent. Only things that aren't silent are Y/N's heart and Bucky's demons.

Y/N sits on the edge of her bed. Sweat drips down her temples as she presses her hand against her chest. Her heart palpitations have gotten worse. Sometimes she feels like her heart will burst out of her chest. She struggles to catch her breath. She can't bring herself to calm down so she makes her way to her safe haven. Her studio.

Her footsteps are delicate against the cold tiles that lie beneath her feet. A shawl is draped around her shoulders to keep her from being cold. She hugs herself as she walks through the long, extended hallways. As she passes the kitchen, she notices a silhouette. She comes to a stop to see who it is. A glint of metal catches her eye.

It's Bucky.

Y/N and Bucky haven't interacted a lot. They only ever talked when they were introduced for the first time. Bucky was quiet since the first day he arrived. He doesn't really talk to anyone, that much. And Y/N is shy. It takes time for her to come out of her shell. She is open with the others but struggles to be herself around the reserved man.

She clears her throat, startling Bucky. His gaze snaps to her.

"I'm sorry," Y/N apologises. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Bucky nods at her, "It's all right."

She slowly walks towards him where he sits, "Couldn't sleep?"

He shakes his while heaving a sigh.

"Nightmares."

She didn't expect him to answer. She struggled to find the right words to say, not wanting to offend him.

"I don't mean to pry, but do you get nightmares a lot?"

"Every damn night." He states.

"I'm sorry...I wish I could do something to help." She pauses before she's hit with an idea.

"Appreciate the thought." Bucky offers her a small smile before looking down, again.

"Bucky, come with me."

That's all she says before she takes off in long strides. Bucky can't help but follow her. His eyebrows furrow deeper in confusion as he walks behind her.

His blue eyes dart around as he finds himself in an unfamiliar wing of the compound. Y/N stands in front of a pretty door. She takes out a key and unlocks it. Bucky was confused that keys even exist in this place. Usually, everyone in the compound uses passwords or whatnot to open doors. Stupid modern people.

The door opens to reveal a lavish room. The walls are decorated with red wallpaper with gold patterns on it. Multiple acoustic guitars rest on the wall. Some are vintage while some are absolutely new. The electric guitars are stood on the floor against the wall. There's one of each colour. A huge drum set sits at the very corner of the room. There were several violins, too. And finally there was a grand piano, that blends right into the room.

Bucky's jaw was on the floor. He did not expect this.

"I know this is a bit too much. All I wanted was a small room to keep all my instruments, but Tony built me a studio, instead." Y/N sighs.

Of course Tony built a studio for his god-daughter. He would build her another world, if he could.

"Come on in." She steps inside, tugging Bucky along with her.

"Can you play all this stuff?" He asks, jaw still hanging loose.

"No no, I just keep all these instruments to stare at them," She says, sarcasm enveloping each one of her word. "I do play all this stuff."

"That's impressive."

"Thanks, Sergeant."

Y/N walks to the grand piano and nestles herself on the bench. She pats the spot beside her, indicating Bucky to sit. He pauses to look at her for a moment and takes slow steps before finally sitting down.

Y/N's fingers glide effortlessly across the keys. Bucky notices her eyes aren't even on the keys, they are closed. He can't help but be in awe. She looked angelic. The rays from the spotlights engulfed her face. She glowed like a star and Bucky realised, for the first time, just how beautiful she is.

Here I am waking up, still can't sleep on your side

There's your coffee cup, the lipstick stain fades with time

If I could dream long enough, you'd tell me I'll be just fine

It's been decades since Bucky sat down to listen to a song, properly. Back in his days, he's heard a fair share of singers but no voice came close to hers. Her voice was delicate yet powerful. Each note held so much emotion. Bucky felt every word in his heart.

So I drown it out, like I always do

Dancing through our house, with the ghost of you

And I chase it down with this shot of truth

That my feet don't dance, like they did with you

A tear slides down Bucky's cheek as soon as Y/N hits the last note. Neither of them say a word. Silence looms over them like a ghost. Before Bucky eventually breaks it,

"That was beautiful."

******

And from that day, every night, Bucky and Y/N were found inside the studio. Y/N's heart palpitations improved over time but she still chose to wake up every night for Bucky. She sang to him every night so that he could sleep safe and sound.

Steve was so surprised to see his best friend in deep slumber. He might've cried a little but no one needs to know that.

Y/N had created a special bond between Bucky and her. She was very proud of it. They were good friends yet she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that she was utterly in love with him.

She hid her feelings from everyone but Tony could see right through her. He always did. He just wanted his god-daughter to be happy, so he gave her solid advice,

“Look, kiddo. I know you have feelings for Barnes. You gotta tell him not only cause you’re confusing him but you’re letting yourself fall into a deep void. You think I don’t know that you can’t sleep at night? You think I don’t know about how you developed a heart condition because of all that stress? I do. I know everything. And because I love you, I’m telling you to confess.”

Y/N resorts to one of her brilliant ideas, to tell Bucky she loves him through a song. 

*******

“So, naturally I told Sam to fuck off and leave me alone,” Bucky chuckles. “ mean, who does he think he is?”

Y/N smiles at how the beautiful man in front of her can’t contain his laughter. How the corner of his eyes crinkle as he does so. The apple of his cheek flush red when he catches her staring. He clears his throat before composing himself, “What are you going to sing for me tonight, doll?”

He eyes as she fists her trembling right hand. Her shoulders are tense, her left leg is bouncing making the guitar on her lap shake. Maybe she was having a tough night or she was growing tired of his company. 

She inhales loudly and grows still. She stays quiet. She knew she could back out, if she wanted to, but she needed to do this. She needed him. More than anything. 

Her thumb slid down the strings of the guitar filling the room’s silence. Her fingers slowly start to strum a chord progression and she readies herself to lose another person that she loves, 

Loving and fighting

Accusing, denying

I can't imagine a world with you gone

The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of

I'd be so lost if you left me alone

She maintains eye contact as she sings every word. Her eyes are glossy with tears threatening to spill. The lump in her throat makes her voice strain as she hits every note. Bucky is confused and concerned. He just can’t understand why she was being so distant yet it felt like she was telling him something. He hated seeing her so broken. So anxious.

You locked yourself in the bathroom

Lying on the floor when I break through

I pull you in to feel your heartbeat

Can you hear me screaming "Please don't leave me"

Y/N’s voice cracks as she refrains herself from sobbing, Bucky considers stopping her. HIs heart ached. He considered rushing to her and pulling her into his arms while kissing her hair, letting her know that she’ll be okay.

Hold on, I still want you

Come back, I still need you

Let me take your hand, I'll make it right

Bucky, I swear to love you all my life

Hold on, I still need you

It takes him a solid second to realise what she just said. He doesn’t know if she actually said that she swears to love him all her life or he was just lost in his thought and he didn’t hear her correctly. 

“D-Doll?” He stammers not being able to bring himself to say anything else.

“I love you, Bucky and I have since the day I sang to you for the first time. I kept this in me for so long and it was weighing me down. I couldn’t hold it in, anymore. I had to let you know, even if you left. I had to tell you how I feel.”

Bucky stands up and walks towards her. He kneels in front of her and gently takes the acoustic guitar from her, and sets in on the ground. He rests his flesh hand on her lap, hesitant to do the same with his metal one. 

“Why would I leave?” He whispers in the softest voice.

“Even if you don’t, what if you’re ripped away from me like everybody else?”

“Everybody else?”

“My father sacrificed himself for S.H.I.E.L.D. My mother literally died from a broken heart. My brother...who took care of me died in the battle of New York. I lost everyone. Everyone.”

Bucky has spent so much time with her, but no one ever told her that his favourite girl had been through so much. He couldn’t believe how she still had such a positive energy. She was a literal hero.

“I love you, Y/N. I really do and I didn’t tell you because I’m not good enough for you and because I didn’t know you felt the same way,” He leans forward to press his forehead against hers. “But I’d like you to be my best girl. I want you to be my best girl. I promise, I’ll never leave you and I promise I won’t let anyone rip me away from you. I’ll be here, always. For you. We’ll hold each other through our darkest nights, and you will sing and everything will be better. I love you.”

He strengthens his promise by gently placing his lips on her.

On the other side of the door, Tony wipes the tears from his eyes. His little girl that he had raised is finally happy now and he couldn’t ask for more.

__________________________________________________

Songs mentioned:

Ghost Of You | 5 Seconds Of Summer

Hold On | Chord Overstreet

[jinmukangwrites]

oh gosh so many! um maybe 49 with twilight? or 79 with fairy hyrule?

49) “Are you afraid of me too?”

Brain: write something new. Me: proceeds to write my favorite trope anyways.

***Request are closed***

-o-o-o-o-

From the moment Wild first met him... He knew there was something... important about Twilight. He didn't know what, and he still doesn't even though it's been a week since they've all met up. It's just... been a feeling. A calling. Something special that has some sort of forgotten memory tugging at the back of his brain whenever he looks at Twilight.

Or maybe special isn't the right word. Neither is forgotten. Everybody in this group are special. It's not hard for Wild to find love for each of them. Wind's joyful attitude, Hyrule's bubbling laughter, Warriors' jokes... They're special. And it isn't like Twilight is calling upon a forgotten memory, not really. He knows what remembering forgotten memories feels like, and it doesn't feel as warm and calm as it does whenever he sees Twilight.

He's like a familiar face. Or a familiar spirit.

He doesn't know how to explain it, only that he's detirmined to find it out.

He works his fingers over a chunk of wood he's been trying to carve for the past hour. Sky tried to teach him how, but honestly Wild just isn't the best at it. He still tried though, when he's bored. The only problem now is that he's not bored. He's destracted.

Twilight left camp the moment they set it up, saying he needed a little time to himself. And Wild is worried. He barely even knows the guy, and here he is fiddling with the chunk of wood that's supposed to look like a sand seal but resembles more of chunky slug, tapping his foot with the crackling of the fire.

Ten more minutes pass and Wild decides enough is enough. He stands up and says he's going to look for their wayward companion, and no one really argues or says anything about it. It's like they're all constantly walking through cuckoo pens around each other, no one really sure how to interact with anyone. Wild understands. It's weird knowing eight other people who supposingly share the same reincarnated spirit, but Wild wishes they'll all stop acting like co-workers and skip to the friend part.

He walks through the forest alone, the sun still slightly up and the lightning bugs beginning to stir from their places in the branches. He knows Twilight went somewhere out in this direction—and the broken twigs and flattened blades of grass proves that. The ground is not soft enough for footprints to be left behind, but the trail of a big body going through the forest is enough for Wild to track.

It's only when he does manage to find a muddy patch of dirt besides a small stream does he wonder if he's been tracking the right thing.

The prints are huge. Wolf-like, but still bigger than any wolf Wild's ever encountered. He swallows nervously, wondering how close an animal has been to the camp for how long... And how dangerous it is. The tracks jump over the stream and fallow along it, and in the distance Wild can hear an even bigger stream, perhaps one of snow run-off and rocky white water.

He figures Twilight should be safe. The real issue now is whatever has made these tracks. Who knows what it will try to do during the dead of night.

Wild follows along the massive paw prints, careful to keep his body low because of the wind blowing at his back. He doesn't draw his weapon yet. He's not afraid of massive predators. He's fought plenty bigger and came out without another scar. Honestly he's more detirmined to just simply snap a picture and figure out if he should leave it alone or not. Zelda will be excited to see creatures from another time.

He comes across the stream, and just like he suspected it's mostly rocky and stony, the rocks slick with moss and erosion. The paw prints disappear into a narrow bit of the stream and he frowns when he doesn't see any tracks emerge on the other side. But, with a bit of searching around, he finds claw marks on a rock further up the stream, heading back the direction they came. It must have smelled his scent and tried to throw him off.

Jokes on it. The wind is now blowing his scent away.

He smirks when he sees drying drops in the dirt. It must have recently gone this way. If he's silent and quick, he might be able to catch up to it without being detected again.

He moves on.

And soon enough, a grin of victory spreads on his face, so much so that the left side of his features stretch oddly because of his scar tissue. He can hear heavy steps, a dog's panting. He pokes his head around a tree and has to catch his breath.

It is a wolf. But it's a wolf of massive proportions.

It's almost more than half the height of Wild himself. All dark grey fur with white markings on its flank and tail. Then, his breath is stolen when the wolf looks up from the bushes it was sniffing and instead smells the air, muscles tensing under it's fur.

It turns, and Wild knows those eyes.

And he doesn't really know what happens next. One moment he's admiring a giant creature from behind a tree and the next he's on his rear-end, hands splayed behind him as he stares wide eyed at the creature he never thought he'd see again. His best friend.

His shock and amazement must have been misinterpreted by the wolf, because the wolf backs up in frantic steps, gives a panicked whine, and then turns tail.

A second later, Wild is left alone. Breathing.

Remembering.

The feeling of a wet nose on his hand. The soft fur that comforted him during the cold nights. The excited barking when he traveled through the wetlands; the frogs not standing a chance. The growls when Wild found himself injured and cornered by a strong enemy.

The eyes so oddly human that Wild would stay up at night... wondering.

He blinks and he's in the present, gasping.

Then, he scrambles to his feet and runs.

Thankfully, it doesn't take long for him to crash through the trees to see Twilight sitting against the base of a tree, head in his hands. It all clicks together, and suddenly this whole reincarnated spirit thing just... doesn't seem so strange anymore.

The wolf. Twilight. His partner. His best friend.

He found him.

Twilight looks up at him when Wild begins to approach, his eyes suspiciously wet and Wild doesn't understand.

"Are you afraid of me too?" He asks, and Wild doesn't understand.

The too speaks of untold stories. Trauma left unsaid. Wild won't pry. He knows full well that trauma left unsaid is normally best kept that way until it's ready to be spoken about. He does understand the wolf's reaction now though. He thought Wild was afraid of it.

Wild knows the wolf, but it doesn't seem Twilight knows him.

It doesn't matter. He flings himself over towards Twilight, wrapping his arms around the older hero and burying his head into his shoulders. Twilight goes all stiff in his arms, before he relaxes slowly, but doesn't return the hug.

"Why?" Twilight asks, sounding a mixture of emotions capable to choking up a voice.

Wild smiles. "Because I've found you again."

A second, then hands wrap around his back and finally returns the embrace. "Oh," Twilight says, like he understands. Maybe he does. Maybe he knows someone else here without them knowing him.

It doesn't matter really. Wild's detirmined to get to know Twilight, and make sure Twilight gets to know him in return.

They're best friends. And they will be again, Wild will make sure of it.

[shin-so-sleepy]

Hi, congrats on starting a writing blog, I wish you luck and hope you have fun! Could you do a little ficlet of someone making Momo feel insecure about her height but then her s/o defends her (and then Momo realizes how much she loves her s/o and cuddles/hugs/forehead kisses ensue)? Thank you so much!

2:42 am - how dare someone make momo feel insecure sis imma FITE... which is why the reader in this has a bit of a uh, temper. i don’t think this is quite as fluffy as you wanted but there’s some soft stuff sprinkled in there. side note, you can pry the hc of momo enjoying puns from my cold, dead, body

Momo Yaoyorozu

— you and momo had been recently let off the stress of hero internships, and decided to schedule a fun mall date to relax

— sometime during the trip, momo happened to notice the mall’s new boba store that had opened recently, and insisted you both try some of the flavors that they had to offer

momo tugged at your sleeve and looked towards the direction of the shop, “ah- y/n look, it’s the new gong cha! i hear they make amazing caramel bubble tea...” she turns back to you, eyes wide and hopeful, “would you like to stop by as well?”

— you smiled, amused at her excitement over a simple drink, and simply nodded in agreement,

“yeah, i could go for some boba! i’m curious about their flavors too” you pause, tilting your head in mock inquisition and continue in a teasing voice. “know what you’re getting already? sure seems like it”

— the 1-A student let a gracious blush fill her cheeks, which let you know she was growing slightly flustered at your playful poking,

“w-well yes, i may have done some research beforehand... erm, anyways, if you’re alright with it then let’s go inside!” and with that, she took your hand in hers and made her way to the shop

— among the few customers there was a group of younger boys ( junior high, if you had to take a guess ) huddled at a table in the corner snorting with laughter

— you glanced at the group briefly, noticing their volume, but thought nothing more of it and allowed momo to lead you towards the cashier

the woman at the cash register smiled as you two approached, “hello! welcome to gong cha, how may i help you?”

— you observed the overhead menu as momo cleared her throat to order, hmmm do i want a boba or a milk foam... oo but a slushie sounds good... should i get a matcha? wait is that too basic- actually no i don’t care, i’ll get a matcha

— with that ( rehearsed in your head to make sure you don’t flub your words ), you finalize your order, pay, and opt to stand to the side with momo to wait as the woman prepares your drinks

— while you both stand patiently and talk in the meantime, you can’t help but overhear part of the conversation from the group of boys in the back,

“hey hey hey shut up or they’ll hear you, dude!!”

“bruh they’re not even paying attention. answer the question, is the tall one a solid 10 or what?”

“...nah, she’s not my type. too tall, it’s weird and would probably be like dating a giraffe, honestly.”

— your eyes widen, clamping your mouth shut and immediately searching momo’s face for any sign that she overheard them. your face falls once you recognize the signs of self-doubt slowly creeping into her festures. she gives you a small smile and tries to shake her head to assure you everything’s alright but you aren’t having it

without a second thought about causing a scene ( the shop was almost empty save for a few customers near the back ) you whip around and face the boys,

“seriously, kid? how immature do you have to be to judge someone by their height? what, does it make you feel like less of a man? it’s not like you were one to begin with so i don’t know why you’re complaining, honestly.” you emphasized the last word to mock their last comment, and fix them all a glare,

“she’s out of your league, buddy. turn around and enjoy your drink before i shove it up your-“

— momo hurriedly interrupts, waving one hand and taking yours with the other, giving it a squeeze as if to say “i got it from here, thanks”

“i think they get it! haha...” she starts, but trails off to give them a stern pointed look. “besides, we’ve seen firsthand that poorly-considered comments like those will cease to get anyone very far in life, especially in the hero industry.”

— the group was silent for a moment, processing her words and turning red at the insinuation towards their chances at becoming heroes. eventually, they collectively nodded and muttered their apologies, turning around with ears burning and metaphorical tails between their legs

— you both turn away, glad the situation didn’t escalate further, and you scoff, still clearly irritated by their comments. tch, arrogant middle schoolers... like what the hell? do they even have eyes? momo’s gorgeous!! i should’ve ripped that kid a new one i swear-

momo interrupted your thoughts by squeezing your hand again. you look up at her with a pout and she laughs lightly. “thank you for telling them off, dear. it was- well i guess you could say it was rather heroic of you...?” she giggles

— your irritation morphs into exasperation and you groan, “momoooooo that was baaaad”

“your smile tells me otherwise though, hm?”

“i’m smiling ‘cause you’re cute, not because the pun was enjoyable, duh. which, it was not by the way” you sigh. “but seriously though, are you okay? they were just being dumb kids, your height makes you charming and like, seem more commanding and stuff...” now it’s your turn to blush at how stupid you sounded

— momo gives you a big, genuine smile that spreads warmth throughout your chest. it’s the one that never fails to get your heart all tingly and the butterflies in your stomach all excited, and you can’t help but grin back, as sappy as it sounds

— suddenly feeling a small surge of confidence, momo leans down to give you a soft peck on the forehead before standing straight again. “i’m fine! i promise. i have you to make sure of that, so don’t be too worried now!” she returns.

— as if a light bulb turns on above both your heads, you turn towards the counter to check on the progress of your orders and are relieved to find the cashier woman finally emerging with the drinks

“i’ve got uhhhh caramel boba and a matcha milk slush for momo?”

— you speak up, raising a hand, “that would be for us, thank you so much!” you and momo grab the drinks and some straws, walking out of the shop

“you’re welcome, have a nice day!” the cashier calls

— you both turn back to bid them a good day as well, and momo intertwines your fingers and heads off to the next store. for the rest of the date, you’re a bit more affectionate than usual, albeit, still keeping her bashfulness in mind as you supply your girlfriend a few pecks on the cheek whilst you attempt to help her browse for clothing items. momo, who usually shies away from pda, surprisingly allows you to continue without complaint. i don’t mind much today, she thinks, they deserve the extra love

[beefybuffybucky]

The Fallen and the Guardian (Pt.3)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader - Steve Rogers x female!Reader (Fallen Angel AU)

Summary: Your life has been pretty normal up until a mysterious, unfamiliar face comes into your life. From that point on, everything tumbles into a downward spiral of love, heartbreak, and destruction.

Warnings: Language - Angst - Violence

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: Well, I guess I did get this up after all! Since I have a lot of packing to do, I’m not sure when part four will be up, but it’s in the works. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged, or feel free to send in requests!

Part One // Part Two

You rode back with Bucky to the bar to pick up your car. He followed you to your apartment with Steve trailing close behind in his own car. All of you were silent as you climbed the stairs to your door. After fumbling for your keys in the darkness, the only sound to cut through the silent night was the door unlocking. Opening the door, you toss your bag next to the couch, not bothering to kick off your shoes.

“Steve, couch,” you pointed to your living room. It consists of a sectional couch and two cushiony chairs on the opposite end of the room. “Bucky, grab a chair.”

You drag the other chair closer to the couch, and Bucky does the same. As Steve and Bucky settle into their seats, you try to fight off a gnawing feeling of uncertainty in the back of your mind. You slowly lower into the chair, Bucky moping in front of you to the left, and Steve sulking to your right, your spots forming a sort of triangle.   

“Talk,” you sternly nod at Steve, crossing your legs. You stare at him for a few long, agonizing seconds. He doesn’t say anything - he’s not even looking at you. His gaze is glued to his hands in his lap. “You had so much to say back at the diner, now you won’t talk?”

“It’s because he feels guilty about what he’s done,” Bucky mutters.

“What are you talking about?” You switch your attention to Bucky. “You two haven’t even met before the night you moved here.”

Bucky just chuckles, sinking into the chair as he extends his legs in front of him and crosses his arms over his broad chest.

“I’ve known Stevie for a long time, darlin’. A lot longer than you have,” he smirks.

“Steve?” You look back at him, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s right,” Steve mutters, still looking down at his lap.

“What?” Utter disbelief and confusion rip through you. “Okay, you two need to explain what the fucking is going on, right now, or else I’m kicking you both out, and will never speak to either of you again.”

Steve finally drags his head up, shooting a hard, cold look at Bucky.

“Bucky’s a fallen angel, and I’m…,” he sighs a deep, heavy sigh. “I’m your guardian angel.”

“I-I’m sorry, did I...Are you okay?” You blink at him. Has he gone completely insane? “You didn’t, like, hit your head or something?” You question heartedly with a tilt of your head.

“He’s tellin’ the truth, doll.”

“Wait...so...you’re tellin’ me that you,” you point a shaky finger at Bucky, “can speak to my mind because you’re a fallen angel, and you,” you shift to Steve, “are my guardian angel.”

Steve and Bucky both nod.

“Are you guys on crack?” You yell unintentionally. “How do you expect me to believe all of this? Angels aren’t real, there’s just no -”

“Then how else can you explain this?” A grin shoots across Bucky’s face.

“Will you knock it off? You know you’re not supposed to do that,” Steve snaps at him.

“How else do you propose we can prove to her that we’re being serious, Steve? It’s obviously too late to go back on it now.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Buck,” Steve tilts his head sarcastically. “How about showing her you scars, huh?” 

“Why? Because you know that she’d see the truth? That she’ll see what you did to me?” Bucky sits up in his seat, leaning toward Steve.

“Are you sure this isn’t a prank?” You whisper, your voice higher than normal.

Bucky clenches his jaw and nods. Steve looks at you.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier,” he whispers. “I’m technically never allowed to tell you, but thanks to Bucky here, I -”

“Don’t blame me for this one, Golden Boy. It’s your fault she’s in trouble now, not mine. In fact, I came here to fucking help you protect her, and this is the thanks I get?” Bucky scowls at Steve.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Steve snarls back, taking up an even more defensive demeanor.

“What do you mean I’m in trouble?” You quickly look between Bucky and Steve. “Is all of this actually real?”

“For the hundredth time, doll, yes, we’re being dead serious,” Bucky groans, rolling his eyes.

“B-But if you’re really a fallen angel, then aren’t you, like...evil?”

Bucky looks from Steve to you, then back again. He bursts out in an uncontrollable, nearly-contagious laughter.

“I fell because of him, darlin’,” Bucky continues to lightly chuckle. “It’s all his fault. I trusted him, and he just let me fall.”

“It was not my fault. You’re the one that tried to play the hero, and got in trouble for it, even though you knew - you fucking knew - that you would fall, you risked it all anyway,” Steve coldly counters, his voice beginning to shake with frustration.

“I did it for you, Steve,” Bucky sneers.

“If you two are actually angels, then...where are your wings?” You interfere with their conversation.

“That’s not exactly how it works,” Steve starts.

“At least you still have your wings,” Bucky spits. “Mine were ripped off my back,” he emphasizes his words as his voice grows louder.

“Did it hurt?” You curiously, hesitantly question.

“What do you think, doll?” Bucky turns his anger on you, mainly by accident.

“Hey,” Steve yells at him. “Watch it. She’s done nothing wrong here.”

“You said someone is trying to kill me,” you whisper to Bucky. “Were you being serious?”

“Why would I lie about something like that?”   

“It’s a long story, Y/N,” Steve mumbles. “The point is, I was sent to protect you. But with him here -”

“Because we both know how well of a job you’ve been doin’, Stevie,” Bucky sharply counters.

“I need a fucking drink,” you shoot up from your chair and briskly walk into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge and popping it open.

“No, you need to listen and hear the truth,” Bucky urges. You can hear his boots on the hardwood floor until they stop behind you. “The real truth.”

“I don’t want to hear any more of this shit,” you grumble, whipping around to face him. “This is just some fucked up dream and soon my alarm will being going off and it’ll all be over.” You shrug and take a swig from your bottle. “You’re not real,” you point at Bucky. “And you -” you glare at Steve from the large opening in the wall that looks into the living room. “I’m probably going to kick your ass.”

“I really didn’t want to do this, doll,” Bucky sighs and he slowly reaches for your face, lightly pressing two fingers to your forehead.  

“What are you -”

“Bucky! No!” Steve shouts.

Then all at once, everything slipped away to nothingness and you were consumed by silence.

When you pry open your eyes, you find yourself in a small, hazy room. The walls are a dark gray and the ceiling is tall and composed of glass panes that filtered in the only source of light you could see. There’s a large, flat altar in the middle of the room that looks like it’s made of rock, and from where you’re sitting in the corner, you can see two figures sitting near a towering set of doors inside the room. You push yourself off the ground to stand, groaning as a dull ache crawls up your legs.

“Hello?” Your voice echoes through the room. When neither of the people responds, you start to cautiously walk towards them. “Hey?” Still no response. As you get closer, you recognize one of them.

“Steve?” You pick up your pace, stopping next to him. He’s wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt and gray, smooth pants. His golden hair was softly glowing in the light, and his blue eyes were more vibrant and magnificent than you’ve ever seen them before. The man next to him is older. His black, long wavy hair was beginning to be streaked with whites and grays. His old, wise eyes were a golden amber, and you could feel the intensity radiating off of him.

“Steve, where the hell are we?” He still doesn’t turn to you, seeming to ignore your attempts to get his attention. “Very funny, Stevie,” you huff, swinging your arm to gently hit the top of his head.

Your hand went right through him.

“What the…,” you gasp, blinking hard at your hand. You reach for his arm and try to grab it, but your fingers breeze through it, cutting through space like a hot knife going through butter. The ancient doors begin to open, not allowing you time to fully freak out or question anything.

Two large, burly men drag another man with long, black wings sprouting from his back through the door. He’s only wearing pants. Wavy, dark brown hair hung over his face, and his limbs and muscular, toned back were covered in bruises and cuts. His wings were made of thick, dark feathers, and as he was forced into the room, a trail of fallen feathers appeared behind him, the delicate plumes fluttering to the ground.

The older man walks to the side of the altar as Steve stays put, a look of regret shrouding his eyes as he watches the man being thrown onto the cold, raised stone. His skin makes contact with the stone as he lands on his chest, the impact making you wince.

“James,” the man’s voice was deep and powerful, but calm and serene at the same time.

“B-Bucky?” You whimper, the urgency in you growing by the second.

Bucky shakily pushes himself up to rest on his hands and knees, his head still dangling between his heaving shoulders.

“You know you must pay for what you have done,” the man moves closer to him.

“Steve, wh-what’s going on?” You desperately attempt to get through to him, but it was no use. Steve walked up to the altar, stopping near Bucky’s head.

“I’m sorry, James,” you can hear Steve’s voice will to Bucky’s mind. Bucky painstakingly drags his head up to look at Steve. His eyes were a blinding, bright gray, and hair was caked to his face in blood. A trickle of red runs down his chin from the corner of his mouth, and a fresh, blossoming bruise spreads around the corner of his eye.

“You...you did this to me,” Bucky’s voice was fragile and hushed. “This is all your fault,” he spits. A few flecks of dark blood land on the hem of Steve’s shirt, staining the pristine white a cruel red.

“James, you have sinned against your own kind,” the man calls out into the room. “You put violence and yourself before others, and for that, you must be cast out.”

“I killed to save you, Steve!” Bucky yells at him. “Tell them the truth!”

The old man glides his rough, wrinkled hands over the structure of his wings, carefully eyeing them as his fingers glide over the frail feathers.

“Don’t let them do this, Steve.” Bucky’s eyes drain of their vibrancy and his arms tremble as he wills the words to Steve’s thoughts.

Then all of sudden, the old man pulls on his wings, hard. You close your eyes tightly, afraid of what you might see next.

Bucky unleashes a piercing, blood-curdling scream that invades every crevice of your mind.

That’s the only sound ringing in your ears as everything goes black again.

You frantically gasp for air as your eyes fly open. It feels like your whole body was just slammed into a brick wall, and you grab onto Bucky, who’s still standing in front of you, a grave look embedded in his face. Something cold and wet coats your leg, and you look down to see the side of your pants soaked in beer, the bottle in shattered pieces on the ground.

“Wh-What the f-fuck,” you feel overwhelmingly faint and your legs start to give out underneath you.

“Woah there, doll,” Bucky quickly takes hold of you, supporting your weight. He helps lead you to the table and pulls out a chair for you, then sits you down. “The answer to your earlier question is yes,” he forces a pained smile, “it did hurt.”

“Y-You…,” your eyes are fixed on the ground for a few seconds as images of what you just saw flash through your head. “You had wings,” you whimper, lifting your head to look at him.

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbles, nodding his head timidly. “I did. I just showed you the moment I fell.” He squats down to be more eye-level with you. “Do you believe me now?”

You nod your head once. “S-Steve,” you turn around in the chair to glare at him. “You were there.”

He doesn’t say anything, only offering a heavy look of regret in response.

“Why didn’t you help him?”

“There was nothing I could’ve done to stop him from being cast out, Y/N,” Steve’s voice is rough, almost raw. You’ve only seen him cry once in your life - at your parents’ funerals - but you could tell he was doing all that was in his power to hold back tears.

“I fell protecting him,” Bucky blurts out. You turn your attention back to Bucky. “We were sent on a mission by the higher-ups, and something went wrong. In order to protect Steve, I had to take a life, which is obviously a big ‘no-no’.” Bucky swallows hard. “They took my wings from me and cast me to Earth shortly thereafter, just like a piece of garbage.”

“B-But wouldn’t they have understood if you were protecting him?”

“That’s not how it works, darlin’,” Bucky chuckles lowly. “Killing is still a sin. And once you commit a sin, you’re out. No more wings, no more freedom - down to the Earth to dwell with humans and Nephilim like you.”

“Did you really have to bring that up?” Steve groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Then, why is Steve here? On Earth?” You blink at him, generating a never-ending list of questions in your mind. “And what’s a ‘Nephilim’, and why am I one of them?”

“Nephilim are half-angel and half-human. That’s why I’m able to speak to your mind,” Bucky explains calmly.

“There’s another angel out to kill you,” Steve intervenes from behind, cutting off your thought. “When you were a baby, I was sent on a mission to protect you as your Guardian. This guy has been searching for you all your life after he decided to try and erase his ‘sins’, not matter what the cost. He thinks it will lead to his redemption and get him back into heaven.”

“Who is he?” You asked, repressing the urge to panic. You jump from your chair, breezing past Bucky and storming towards Steve when he doesn’t respond. “I swear to God, Rogers, I will never speak to you again if you don’t tell me. Enough with beating around the bush, I’m done.”

Steve looks up at you through his lashes, a mixture of sadness, concern, and hurt pools deep in his eyes.

“Steve, I don’t think -” Bucky starts.

“It’s your dad,” Steve whispers.

“What...what do you mean...m-my dad died when I was -”

“No, he didn’t,” Steve presses. You plop down on the couch near him, trying to absorb his words. “Your dad had a kid with a human, which is another major sin. He was cast down to Earth and has been growing in power, trying to get his redemption by erasing his sin...by trying to erase you.”

Tags: @buckyisloved @awinterloveuniverse @isaxhorror @hollycornish @bexboo616 @superwholockian5ever @queendarkmuffin @theraputicwritings @asouthsideserpent @captainfbffangirl99 @randyortontattoos @alicia5833 @sebatmanstan