george enthusiast!!

marc spector / steven grant

mansplain, malewife, manslaughter

➸ oneshots

in you i find solace°

➸ blurbs/headcanons

in progress

➸ series 

in progress

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

bucky barnes

brooklyn’s finest assassin.

➸ oneshots

deeper wounds

fluorescent gaze

drunk off you

➸ blurbs/headcanons

in progress

➸ series 

false knight

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

mcu!peter parker

queens’ nervous wreck of a webslinger. 

➸ oneshots

twelve thirty-four

juliet

bleachers: a daring tale of lacrosse game confessions

nsfw alphabet

everything

bridge kisses

asgardians and the bum on twenty-first street

quantum

snogging and the wrath of severus snape (harry potter au)

burning sand

reunited

between the bars

fleetwood mac

the underdog*°

tears & toffee

the gingerbread pancake scandal*

➸ blurbs/headcanons

ironic — roomies — sunset — forever — blue lips & boardwalk bliss* — promises (miss misery)* — caught — rainy evening mood —meet the aunt! — stubborn — butterfly — tea party* — peter luvs you

➸ series 

coy witches peter parker x oc part one ➝ part two ➝ part three

helpless peter parker x stark!reader part one ➝ part two* ➝ part three

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

tasm!peter parker

the mouthiest boy on the street.

➸ oneshots

out the window*°

➸ blurbs

study buddy

➸ series

in progress…

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°。

tom holland

britain’s golden boy. 

➸ oneshots

anticipation*

➸ blurbs

hungover buffoons — bedheads and flowers*— in which they race a blue staffy — a nice surprise — chocolate — pre-show antics — champagne problems

➸ series

bruises (detective!au) discontinued

tom holland x fem!reader

Still. All the lights here were golden.

They glinted down into the foam of the random sugary sweet cocktail she got served earlier. It was almost too sweet.

She stared at the drink.

Purple dust sprinkled on top. Flowers floating.

A purple flower turned over.

It reminded her of one of the dead bodies. When she shoved a pile of them into the lake. When they finally sank. When was that… 2019? Right before the Blip?

Ah; she forgot.

She reached out a hand, now, fingers twirling the straw, taking a sip.

The straw felt cold on top of her velvet-clad hands. A per Val’s instructions. For some reason, she had Masha dressed in a frilly, mint coloured corset gown thing.

Masha thought it was more for the humiliation factor but she was here and wore it anyways because money was money. She felt like a more mediocre, slightly absurdly maximalist version of Cinderella, though.

She plays with the straw and twirls it between her fingers.

“Look perky,” Val’s voice snapped in her ear.

It almost made her jump. She didn’t. She had enough training to kill that reflex.

“Cunt,” Masha muttered in Russian under her breath. “‘Perky.’”

“Do you have eyes on me?” Masha continued in a sharp hiss, “How do you know I’m not ‘perky’ or whatever?”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re here to look excited. So look it.”

Masha scoffed. “Bitch,” she said in Russian.

“Oh—and quit it with the accent. You’re supposed to be American right now,” Val replied.

“There’s no one around to act for,” Masha grit out. She scratched at the dastardly dress Val made her wear. And pay for.

“This damn fabric is so scratchy,” she muttered, just as Val sighed again.

“Sight on Barnes. Heading toward you in ten seconds.”

Signal cut.

Masha chuckled. This gala was idiotic. Val was in the bathroom on call every ten minutes while trying to network with socialites. What a shit show.

She had been perched in an alcove with a drink for nearly an hour. Waiting. Watching.

Bucky Barnes—attempting congressman, former Winter Soldier. Hah. Still weird to say out loud.

Val needed tabs on his constituents. The best way in?

Make Barnes hire her.

And the best way to make him hire her?

Plant the idea the night before. One of Val’s nameless government crones just had to suggest it over drinks.

“It’s hard running a campaign alone… I know your past has been rough…”

There. A glint of gelled black hair under golden light. Sharp tux. Standing on the staircase beside Val’s assistant. Perfect.

Once the assistant peeled off, Masha moved. Switched gears.

—Maisie, now.

She pretended to admire the ceiling’s architecture—then crashed directly into him, sending champagne flying.

This is new.

“Oh my god—I’m so sorry!” Masha—no, Maisie, gross— exclaimed. American accent. Bright. Her eyebrows contorted into an apologetic line. “I’ll pay for the dry cleaning, I am so sorry—”

“It’s fine,” Bucky said, already crouching to help. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I was just looking at the ceiling, y’know?” She aimlessly gestures to the ceiling, apologetic smile plastered on her face, “the designs are so… uh, elaborate, y’know?”

He gave a tired smile. “It’s alright. I can agree with you— it is a nice place.”

She glanced up at him. “What’s your role here?”

“I’m Bucky,” he said. “Congressman.”

He extends a hand.

Her eyebrows lifted. She pretends to look him up and down.

She’s gotta have those micro expressions down in case he’s analyzing her. He’s not a stupid congressman, he’s a former assassin. HYDRA asset. She’s kinda excited about it.

“Bucky Barnes?”

He looked sheepish. “Yeah.”

She shook his hand. He returned it.

His grip was soft.

Interesting.

She grinned.

“Well, you looking for any assistants or anything?” she joked. “And, actually, funny you say you’re congress—“ she reached into her purse and pretended to rummage around, “I’m actually here trying to network. Hah!”

She pulled a card from her pocket. “I didn’t think networking would involve spilling $400 champagne on the Winter Soldier, but… here we are.”

He took the card.

Maisie smiled brightly.

Inside, Masha recoiled.

Does a granola-esque- Canadian- university graduate act like this?

“Recent graduate of the Masters of Laws program at the University of Toronto,” she chirped.

Bucky looked it over. Looked a little surprised. Or a little confused.

Probably both.

Maisie Owens was new to Masha, too.

Unfortunately.

“I’m available any time,” she added. Why? “Even if you’re not hiring, I’d still love to grab coffee and hear more about politics. Whenever you’re able.”

He stared at her.

“Alright,” he said.

She couldn’t read his tone. Not entirely dismissive yet not fully trusting?

She stared back.

“Well,” she smiled, “have a good night, congressman.”

“You too,” he said. He tried a smile.

It seemed tight. Perhaps he noticed the tension and tried to make it more tolerable? Did she successfully make him tense?

“I’ll be in touch,” she told him with a smile. Then she turned. Scuttled off. Rounded a corner.

She felt his eyes on her as she left.

“That was pitiful. Who are you, Nancy Drew?” Val’s voice returned in her ear, dry and unimpressed. “‘I’m available any time,’” she mocked.

“I think it worked,” Masha said calmly. “He looked perturbed. Kinda scared? Yet intrigued? I don’t know. But you hired me for a reason, Val—and that’s the kind of reaction you get when you make a lasting impression. Guess you wouldn’t know what that looks like.”

“If you keep this up, I’ll fire you.”

“Okay.”

“And stop doing the fake-lawyer convincing shit with me. Stop selling yourself. I hired you. It’s done. You’re pissing me off playing all Scooby-Doo, truthfully,” she laughs. “Don’t make me regret my decision.”

“Okay,” Masha said.

Lolllllll.

Masha pushed through the exit doors. Cool New York wind greeted her like a sigh. She paused at the edge of the curb, glancing up at the glowing city skyline.

“My task tonight is over,” she spoke into the comms.

Val sighed. “Fine. Do nothing. I don’t care.”

The line clicked to static.

Masha smiled to herself.

It’s kind of surreal meeting the Winter Soldier. She looked up to him for ages as a child.

They used to watch his mission coverage as examples of excellence.

Masha and all her classmates huddled beneath the staticky TV Madame had to roll out. Plaits down their back. Shivering slightly from the cold. Murmuring in excitement as The Winter Soldier murdered The Starks.

She stepped into the street.

The dead bodies she rolled into the river.

Did The Winter Soldier still have that one string of words that fucked him up? Hm. She didn’t know. She didn’t want to try.

She still had some humanity. She thought.

Whatever.

She hails a taxi.

Let the mission begin.

****