Spitfire



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Steve pauses after finishing a story about the alien invasion in New York and simply asks, “Do you think he feels the same about you?”

    Bucky flexes his hand impulsively, earning an angry look from Steve until he manages to get his fingers back in the places they were before. There’s some bossy nudging involved. Steve’s charcoal fingerprints are left behind. Bucky doesn’t entirely mind them. It makes him feel loved, a little. It makes him feel like someone who actually deserves to be loved.

    He doesn’t pretend to not understand Steve’s question.

    “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice hoarse.

    “I think it’d be nice, if he did.” Steve manages to say the words like they don’t matter, his focus back on his drawing, pencil moving crisply across the paper. “But whatever this thing is that you guys have, I think that’s nice too.”

    “Yeah,” Bucky says, glad Steve isn’t looking at him anymore as a ridiculously stupid smile takes over his face. “I think it’s nice, too.”

     

    ***

    I'm going to take care of him, Bucky thinks.

    “When was the last time you had a proper night’s sleep?”

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    16 Apr 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 85

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    All jokes aside, the cat’s a good thing. Clint has some self-respect left and refuses to pine after a cat guy.

    “Are you actually being serious right now?” Nat elbows him in the gut as Clint stares at Bucky’s bleeding face, whimpering a little when he just spits out some blood and, with a scowl, waves off the medic who dares to approach him.

    “Why is this so hot?” Clint fans himself with his own t-shirt, stretching the cotton with each drag, and pines with the intensity and urgency of at least a hundred dying phone batteries.

    Clint has a type. And his type is assholes.

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    14 Apr 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 69

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    Peter forces a smile, but he can still hear it:

    ‘No, no, no, please, not him, not him, c’mon—’

    He looks at Bucky and is instantly hit with the old Bucky face. Full block, expressionless wilderness, a six-lane blacktop of good luck guessing what’s going on back here. Miles of unreadable. The expression Bucky rocked for at least a year, when Peter was shiny and new to this, before all the smirks and smiles crept in, and before he was allowed to guess out loud what was behind them.

    “You got to me fast,” Peter says, echoing Tony’s words, tone a touch flat. Trying to make it fact, not feeling, seems to be working. If Peter was to make this feeling, he doesn’t think he could deal. At all. Fact is safe. Fact is extremely not a feeling.

    Bucky gives him a clipped nod.

    “You got to me very fast.” Peter’s own addition this time. He’d seen the video. It was very. Very.

    Retrospect: noun, the act of looking back and going 'oh fuck, that's what that was'.

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    14 Apr 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 23

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    A weekly fix of standalone winterspider mini-ficlets, cooked up from the Monday Discord prompts.

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    14 Apr 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 42

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    Peter’s used to life delighting in messing him over with secret depths and hidden bullshit, making his other superpower terminal misjudgment. Everybody’s hiding something. That’s Humanity 101. It’s not paranoid to expect a personality trait or two at odds with their brand. People are complicated. Not one-dimensional. People contain multitudes, Parker. If only Peter didn’t keep forgetting that.

    But this is Cap. As in, the Cap. Captain America. Steve Rogers. Who, at most, should be doing a decent thing and packing basic-level secrets, and not—

    Which is why this is… oh.

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    08 Apr 2026