I’ll Never Forget That One Time I Was Talking To This Boy And I Rejected Him (mind You I Almost Gave

Damn this gonna be good

Project Spindle (TEASER)- Established Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

She’s always known about her powers, but the truth of where they come from could shatter everything.

a.n - teaser for a series i'm working on. i wanted to see how the interest was before posting more chapters! i have 3 ready so far :3

spoiler warning for thunderbolts*

The team filed into the common room of the Tower, their exhaustion hanging heavy in the air. Mission gear was dumped by the door without a second thought—boots kicked off, jackets slung over chairs, weapons clinking as they hit the floor.

Bucky was the first to make a beeline for the kitchen, muttering under his breath, “If someone ate my last yogurt, I’m leaving this team.”

Yelena threw herself onto the couch with a groan, her legs dangling over the armrest. “Relax, grump. No one wants your weird protein yogurt.”

“I do,” Ava added, flopping down beside her. “Just not enough to suffer the guilt trip afterward.”

From behind them, Walker rolled his eyes. “You two ever get tired of being annoying?”

Ava didn’t even turn around. “Do you ever get tired of being so sensitive?”

“I’m just saying—”

“Shh,” Yelena cut in, holding up a hand. “The couch doesn’t argue with background noise.”

Walker scoffed and stalked off toward the kitchen, muttering something about how no one respected proper debriefings.

Alexei wandered in next, already sipping from a bottle that definitely wasn’t water. “Ahh! A successful mission. You know, when I was Red Guardian, we used to fight for forty-eight hours straight. No rest, no drones. Just fists. And grit. And vodka.”

“You also say you once took down a unit during a ballet recital,” Y/N said, curled up on the big bean bag in the corner, a steaming mug cradled in her hands.

Alexei lit up. “Yes! With the ballerina who hid knives in her tutu! A real artist. You should’ve seen the blood on the stage. Beautiful!”

Bob let out a sleepy whine and leaned harder into Y/N’s side, practically glued to her. His arms were loosely wrapped around a pillow, but his head rested against her shoulder like a clingy child.

“You smell like wet socks and smoke,” he murmured, barely audible.

“Accurate,” Y/N replied softly, running her fingers through his hair.

Bucky returned with his precious yogurt, eyeing the scene before settling behind Y/N. He lowered himself to the floor, resting his back against the beanbag and placing a steady hand on her leg.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, just for her.

She gave a tired nod. “Yeah. Just drained. I almost threw Walker into traffic today.”

“I would’ve caught him,” Bucky said, deadpan.

“I know,” she smiled. “That’s why I didn’t.”

Yelena sat up slightly, glancing around. “Hands up if you listened to a single word of Walker’s lecture in the Quinjet.”

Not a single hand went up. Bob groaned. Ava fake slept. Even Alexei raised his bottle in protest.

“There was a lecture?” Bucky said flatly.

“I heard that!” Walker yelled from the kitchen.

Yelena leaned back with a grin. “Then maybe there’s hope for your listening skills after all!”

The room burst into light laughter, warm and easy. Mission chaos faded into background noise. This was their peace: bruised knuckles, aching muscles, found family—and a whole lot of sarcasm.

Before the conversation could settle, Bucky’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, then answered the call, but his eyes stayed on Y/N as he listened.

“Yeah,” he said into the phone, voice growing quieter. “She’s here. One sec.”

He held the phone out to her. “It’s Sam. He found something... about Hydra. Related to you.”

She blinked, surprised. “Me?”

“Yeah. He said it’s important.”

Y/N took the phone with a puzzled frown and got up, Bob whining softly at her absence. She padded down the hall and slipped into one of the empty private rooms, closing the door behind her.

“Hey, Sam?”

“Hey,” came his voice. “Didn’t want to text this, but Torres and I found something. Something big.”

“Okay…” she said slowly, sitting on the edge of a desk.

Joaquin’s voice joined the call. “We were going through old Hydra files—stuff that SHIELD never decrypted.”

“And?”

“We found you,” Sam said. “In the records. Before the Maximoffs.”

She went very still. “What?”

“You weren’t just another Hydra experiment,” Sam said. “You were the first step. The origin test for what created Wanda’s powers.”

------

a.n - hih! thanks for reading the teaser :3 let me know if you want more!

my first time requesting im sorry if it sounds really bad or cringe ehehsbbejrr

how do you think Simon would react to someone who has a seashell collection they are v e r y overprotective of and they give him one of the seashells because they trust him???

selling seashells by the seashore? nope!

synopsis: what the ask said! + a bit more because i started to really get into it

warnings: fluff, sfw, gn! reader, established relationship, marriage, a glimpse into simon's private life, soap being soap

a/n: i’m literally on an island rn and i’m pretty sure this seagull is screaming at me so i thought this would be very fitting 😝

Simon definitely has his pockets filled, only with Moroccan sand and shells and rocks and…possibly a starfish? It’s not much, but truly it’s honest work when it comes to him picking up and inspecting every shell or sea cookie there is out here on this damn beach. Soap hollers at him from a few yards away, hand beckoning for him to come over.

“Ain’t this one a big ol' Lad?” Johnny says with his hand on his hip and the other pointing down at a huge mollusk, it’s opal and rainbowed color shone in the blazing sun.

The taller one smiled behind his mask and grunted as his knees popped, reaching down to pick it up. With a knife, he poked and prodded into whatever was in it, which was now just a dead, sandy mess at his feet. “Pretty, then again, anything prettier than your face, Johnny.”

Soap glared at him, “Yeah, at least I have a face.”

Simon missed you terribly. Miles and miles away, he just thinks about how his lovely spouse is on their daily walk down the beach, trading and finding pretty shells to show him once he gets back. You two do this every time he comes home. After a few days of resting (with mostly Simon either shutting off in his own room or hiding his face in the crook of your neck in your shared room), you sit him down on the kitchen table and pull out your beach bag to debrief about the new shells. Each one with a different story attached to it and each one you wanted to share and love.

“I got this one from a fisherman that caught it in his net when he went fishing in the Bahamas!” You showed him a huge, pink and white conch shell that was larger than both your hands combined.

Simon smiled at you and took your prized possession from your hands and inspected the shiny finishing of it. “You weren’t at the Bahamas, Lovie, what did you do to get it?”

“Oh I traded a hermit crab shell for his nephew’s crab.” You said fondly, petting the shell that looked normal sized in his own hands.

Simon pockets the large nautilus shell into his bag somewhere and feels his breast pocket for the small, spiral shell that you’ve gifted him. It was his birthday, the day you saw his toothy grin for the first time.

You had found a beautiful, black, spiral shell the size of a blade. Taking it home, you filed the tip into it was sharp enough to cut through…something, you thought. You don’t know what he exactly would cut, but it’ll come in handy right?

He cried that day when you sheepishly offered him this small gift box, a silver bow resting on the top of it. After you calmed him down and held onto his arm, he opened it and a goofy smile replaced his tears.

“I sharpened it, it’s like a…like uhm a shank?” You said, rather confused actually.

Your husband snorts at your reasoning and picks up the lustrous black shell into his hands. He examines it closely, spinning and turning it in his fingers to make it shine in different angles. With the hard padding of his index finger he grazed the tip of the shell, and sure enough, it was sharp. Simon huffs a laugh to himself thinking about how he could potentially use this as his next melee weapon.

“Do you…like it?” You ask him hesitantly, sitting across from him on the couch. Your own hand fidgeted with each other as you pull and push on your knuckles, making them pop gently.

The large man in front of you looks up at you, eyes a bit wide in confusion. A small gasp is heard from the parting of his lips and he softens his gaze, looking at you fully. He didn’t laugh at you, he laughed at himself. “It’s silly…to be killed with a seashell, hmm?”

Large hands found yours as he abandoned the shell temporarily on the safe coffee table. He kisses your forehead. “Of course I love it, my sea star…best gift ever.”

Simon knew that it wasn’t just a gift from his spouse that day. No that’d be too simple, and his life is anything but. That was a piece of you, your love for him manifesting in such a small, delicate object. To break it, was to break a piece of you…and you would raise hell if he did.

His face settled on a slightly less disgruntled face under his mask as he looked off into the coast. With a pat on the breast pocket of his vest, he pondered to himself, ‘This time, it’ll be different.’ This time he has his own collection to present to you. This time he knows you’ll be even more excited than that time you found a perfectly round sand dollar when he shows you these little treasures. Maybe this time you’ll even scream when he shows you this dried starfish.

But one thing’s for sure, he’ll come home to you after all this. And one day, there’ll be no more war, no more bloodshed, just two old spouses sitting on the beach, the sun rising steadily, and a wall of shells from coasts all around the world.

If the ocean ever disappears DONT GO LOOKING FOR IT… go in the other direction

If I wrote a mcu x arcane story, would anyone be interested, and should to be a vi/viktor x reader or vi/viktor x oc

every single person who reblogs this

every

single

person

will get “doot doot” in their ask box

IKNEW THIS REMINDED ME OF SOMETHING

tumblr

tumblr in october

Same tho

Clint: The best revenge really is being nice.

Natasha in the distance: Or murder.

It's not over, BLM is still going strong. Hold the police Accountable

Is she here?

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

A/N: Military inaccuracies, angst and fluff

TW: hints to PTSD, trauma, loss and anxiety

"As the Royal Navy already have extensive eyes in the region, we will do this mission in collaboration with some of their own" Cyclone starts speaking. I sit up straighter in my chair hoping that in some bizarre coincidence you'll be here. Javy gives me a look that I instantly know means he is questioning the same thing.

"Does that mean the spots on the mission will be allocated to them or that they will have a backup team?" Payback questions.

This is the only part of today that I have been active listening, suddenly having laser straight focus.

"Neither. We are getting coms from them and that will be reciprocated by you. They are running a separate mission on the same target. Naturally, their mission is classified but you will both be navigating the same terrain and dealing with the same enemy aircraft... Today we will be running a team exercise for you to know who you are flying with" Cyclone answers in the most convoluted way. I roll my eyes, it's typical that they expect us to work alongside them and not tell us why.

Maverick steps forward to take over. "You all know the mission parameters and each other's limits. I think that it is important that we get to know their flying so we are going to do more dogfighting. No missiles just guns. This will be done in teams UK v US. There's less of them than us so we will break up into groups" He says before calling up his first team to go get their flight suits on.

We listen on the radio as our team gets shot down over and over again. It is frustrating to only hear our coms so we have no means of knowing how they are shooting everyone down so fast or any understanding of their strategy.

It would be useful to know who these people are and how they work together. Also, more than anything else today, I just want to know if she's here.

Everyone leaves until it is just me, Phoenix and Bob, Rooster, Payback and Fanboy.

"Don't leave us out to dry." Phoenix warns me as we step out onto the tarmac.

"I won't, we're winning this." I respond giving her a cocky smile. She nods.

"We need to pair off and cover more ground. You take Phoenix and Bob, I'll wingman Payback and Fanboy" Rooster directs me.

"Sir, yes sir." I mock salute as I walk towards my plane.

He gives me an unreadable expression. "Something is different about you today." Rooster remarks before dispersing. We don't have time for him to theorise or question me further.

*

Payback and Fanboy are out in literal seconds. Rooster gets lock on the person responsible then moves to protect Phoenix and Bob from the other side.

"You see anything Baby on Board?" I ask bob.

"Ignore him." Phoenix mutters.

"Nothing on the radar. Where are these guys?" Rooster asks the second that someone gets lock on him.

"They're below us." I confirm having watched someone put guns on Rooster.

We swing around to find them but as we're turning they go upwards into the sun.. "I can't see a thing!" I express, dropping back once I realise I've gone too quick and started to stray. That's when I see the plane gaining traction on her.

"Break right." I instruct her as I go after the other person and get them out with ease.

"Two down, two to go." Bob says.

"Great should be easy." Phoenix jabs with a small laugh.

"I've lost them in the sun." Bob informs us.

"Let's drop down slightly because we cannot see up here." Phoenix suggests.

"Break left hangman!" Bob bellows. I do so and it saves me but gives someone the opportunity to get lock on Phoenix and Bob.

"Fuck." I express. It's two against one.

I drop fast, needing to use the terrain here against their targeting systems. I break and one of them flies right over me as intended. I get a lock on them but not a plane on the radar directly behind me.

One v one.

I break left in an attempt to shake them. Predictably that does not work, so I go lower quickly reaching the hard deck. That does not deter them, they follow.

I try slowing down again but they anticipate the collision with me and invert above me to swing around and take the shot. I lock eyes with her then and she smirks. I give her the finger and she laughs - we both know she's about to shoot me down. "Holy shit she's good." I say as the lock tone rings.

Moving in line with her I wave enthusiastically before signalling for her to land. "God I am so in love with you." I mutter to myself completely oblivious to the fact that everyone is still on the radio channel downstairs.

Seconds after her, I land. She's already nowhere to be seen, probably gone to the lockers. By the time I get there she's gone. I swiftly strip out of my flight suit and into my uniform for a debrief.

"Nice of you to join us." Bob remarks as I meander in. I smile and put a toothpick in my mouth as Maverick starts talking. I'm listening to him, but my eyes are on you. How are you already stood here in your pearly whites looking so good after hours for dogfighting?

There's a phone on my desk. I pick it up wondering who it belongs to as I do not recognise it. I am met with a picture of myself as the lock screen - so you got a new phone.

I look back up at you and you're smirking: you want me to snoop at something. Looking away from Mav I glance down and unlock the phone. You're looking at a hotel in the Maldives, of course you are. I check the dates and press confirm glancing up every so often to look semi-engaged in whatever Maverick is saying. Bob coughs to get my attention and gives me a disapproving look as I start entering my card details.

I lock the phone again, placing it face down on the table to give you my undivided attention after Maverick announces, "Okay I'm going to shut up now and let our British counterparts introduce themselves."

True to word he stands back and you step forward.

"I'm Captain Y/N Seresin -" you start instantly cut off by Fanboy. "Any relation to Hangman here?" he asks.

She doesn't look at me as she lies. "No." she responds simply.

"I mean he did say that he loves you so that's a pretty big indication that you might know him more than you're letting on." Coyote says making me smirk. She knows he knows, so I expect her lie to falter.

"You've seen my flying, why are you surprised?" You respond winking at him.

"Everyone loves her." Phoenix says loudly over to Coyote not knowing he was best man at your wedding. There's no one else I would've asked to do that for me. You smile at her and nod in agreement.

"These are Lieutenants: Warren Smith, Harvey Brown, Suzie Radcliff, Thomas Raey and Rose Turner. As team leader, if you have any concerns or problems with any of them, which you shouldn't because they're all great, please come to me directly." You instruct us all.

You meet my gaze and I can't help myself but smile.

"What are your callsigns?" Rooster asks you, taking your attention off of me. I glare at him unconsciously annoyed.

"We don't have call signs like you do. Individual flights are given callsigns but these are not attached to the aviator." you briefly explain.

"Ah that's strange" Bradshaw responds.

"They were given honorary callsigns last time our paths crossed, I'm surprised you're not enforcing them since taking over the team Y/N" Phoenix speaks up.

"I'm not enforcing your drunken callsigns on anyone." You giggle playfully rolling your eyes at her.

"Where's Prince?" Phoenix questions looking over your lineup of aviators and noticing the missing party. Your smile is instantly gone, a frown taking its place.

"He's MIA." You respond voice ever so slightly quieter.

"Shit." Phoenix counters.

"It has been so long, I hope he's dead." Warren contributes.

I watch you instantly withdraw. It's not like you to go quiet. You cross your arms and I know you were there that day. Whatever happened to him, you witnessed it.

"Maybe he didn't eject?" Rose theorises.

So whatever happened, you haven't told your team?

"Dear God, can we not rehash this?" Tom asks loudly before looking to you. I know he's about to ask if you're okay you nod once as a silent answer to his unasked question. He was there too then.

That completely shuts down the conversation and you've mentally distanced yourself enough from the conversation to not instantly fill the silence like I'm used to.

"Let's just get on with this... Americans introduce yourselves." Tom speaks for you.

When everyone starts introducing themselves you snap out of whatever thought process gripped you, and start asking personalised questions to get to know the people you've never spoken to before.

When it comes to me you don't bother with a question because you already know me. That's your tell here. You haven't asked Coyote, me or Phoenix any questions.

Trace is looking over at me with a raised eyebrow having picked up on that. I raise my eyebrows back at her. "How?" She mouths. I laugh and tap my nose. It's a secret... because I have absolutely no idea what the answer to that question is. How on Earth I managed to score you is a mystery I do not think anyone will ever solve.