NOTE: This was originally written and posted on AO3 on July 14th, 2020
It was written for:
Marvelously Magical Fanfiction Bingo 2020 - Square O3: Soulmates
words for my soul(mate)
Chapter One
By: Paramour Party
The first time he noticed writing show up on someone's skin, Bucky was sitting in Tony's lab. He watched the other man patiently fix some damage his metal arm took on the last mission.
He'd only been with the Avengers for a few months and it was surprisingly… normal. Sure there was still some hesitancy from the team where he's concerned, which he wholeheartedly understood. But he honestly expected more hostility; more cold shoulders. Instead, he got a welcoming warm home with friendly and sometimes sarcastic banter.
Tony was leaning in closer to his metal bicep carefully extracting something that managed to get stuck beneath a plate. That was when Bucky saw writing appear on Tony's arm by his wrist. Letter by letter, neat straight writing. Did you promise to pick Peter up to avoid a meeting? The way the writing got darker and darker as seconds passed made it look like a tattoo.
He blinked when Tony swore, also looking at the writing on his arm. "Damn. I forgot I had a meeting this afternoon," he mumbled, "Oh well."
Bucky's thoughts on the mysteriously appearing words were derailed when Tony sat back, setting his tools on the table. He dropped small pieces of metal shrapnel into a square container. "Looks like you're set, Fullmetal."
"Thank you, Tony," he said.
"No, thank you," Tony returned, "I've been thinking, how about we change up your arm? I'm sure you don't like walking around with HYDRA tech. Maybe you'd wanna work on a new one with me?"
He thought it over surprised by the idea. He'd resigned himself to having this arm for the rest of his life. "If you have the time?" he said, "I think I would really like that."
"I'll make the time! Hey, would you mind if Underoos joins in on the project? I think it'll keep him busy and out of trouble for at least two weeks."
They shared a quiet laugh. The kid was a handful on some days, and the team tried their best to keep him out of the worst of the trouble he somehow always managed to find himself in. "Sure. As long as I don't end up with a red metal arm at the end of the day, I'd be okay with it."
They were walking out of the lab, Tony going on and on about how great the colour red was and Bucky forgot all about the strange writing.
The next morning he was at the kitchen island with Nat. Tony walked in covering a large yawn with his left hand. Bucky's brows furrowed when he remembered the words that appeared yesterday were somehow gone.
He wondered if he misremembered. He frowned but didn't mention anything, content to just continue eating his breakfast. Nat was busy cutting fruit and putting it in a blender. "Morning, Tony. You think Pepper would like a smoothie?" she asked.
Tony mostly hummed an answer. Without his bowl-sized mug of coffee, it was hard to get him going this early in the morning if he'd gone to bed at a reasonable hour the night before. Bucky watched as Tony pulled the magnetic pen from the fridge and instead of writing on the reminder notepad like he thought he would, Tony wrote on his hand.
"Yes, she would like one, please," Tony mumbled moments later as he pulled his mug from a cupboard and walked over to the coffee machine.
When he was set, Tony came next to Bucky stealing a piece of bacon from his plate.
Whatever Bucky was about to retort about the theft fell from his lips as he stared at Tony's hand. There, in Tony's messy writing, Want a Nat-smoothie? and right underneath was the same neat writing from yesterday. Yes, please.
Just as Natasha was done blending and pouring two smoothies into a thermos, Pepper, ready to take on the day in her pressed dress, high heels, and sleek pinned back hair, came into the kitchen with a bright smile. "Thanks, Nat. I owe you one," and like the busy whirlwind the woman was, she was gone after a quick kiss on Tony's cheek. Her left hand holding her newly acquired smoothie had Tony's messy writing on it with her own writing just underneath. Want a Nat-smoothie? and Yes, please. was dark against her pale skin.
Bucky hid his confusion behind his own mug of coffee. Maybe Tony was trying out some new communication tech with Pepper.
When Bucky saw the weird skin writing thing happen again, it was two weeks after seeing it on Tony's arm. This time it was on Steve. It was a small text appearing at the bend of his left arm. Late. was all it said. He can tell from the way the letter L was capitalized and looping who wrote it. He recognized the writing from mission reports. It was Sam's.
"You too?" Bucky asked as he sat closer to Steve.
"Hmm?"
They were sitting in the living room, Steve engrossed in his sketchbook and him reading a book recommended by Peter.
"The writing thing," Bucky pointed out. "Is Tony testing new tech?"
Steve paused, a surprised and somewhat guilty look in his eyes as he glanced down to his arm and back up to him. "Oh. You don't know."
Now it was Bucky's turn to be confused. "What do you mean?"
His best friend closed his sketchbook and placed his things down onto the coffee table. "Sorry, Buck. I didn't think you might not remember." He cleared his throat and showed his arm and the writing to him. "It's… it's not technology. The way it was explained to us when we were younger, is sometimes someone could have a soulmate. From your eighteenth birthday, if you write on your skin, the words would show up on your soulmate too."
Bucky frowned. "I don't remember this back in the day," he said touching the word on Steve's arm. "Was this a thing, back then too?"
Steve nodded. "It was, but neither of us had anyone respond. We thought it might be because whoever they were, they hadn't turned eighteen yet." He smiled sheepishly.
Bucky made a face. "What would it mean if you hadn't been frozen in ice, you old man."
Steve laughed. "I knew you'd ask that. But having a soulmate doesn't necessarily mean romantic. The fact that Sam and I ended up that way just worked. And… and maybe it was the way it was meant to be anyway?" he shrugged and Bucky let go of his arm.
"Is it always them left arm? I think I saw it on Tony too."
Steve thought it over. "No. It's just easier for us right-handed folk, I guess."
Bucky stared at his metal arm and frowned wondering if he'd had a soulmate who probably wrote to him while he was frozen or working as a brainwashed killing machine. If someone out there had been waiting for an answer and never got one. Steve pulled him close by the shoulder. "Buck, don't go down that dark train of thought."
He huffed but accepted the hug and shook away the guilt he felt. He probably didn't have a soulmate anyway.
Now that he was aware of it, he could see it everywhere. People in public glancing down or writing on their hands or arms. He could see it more in the younger generations, he can tell when the writing is new for a person, shy smiles on their faces and long texts as they slowly got to know their soulmates. Other times the words, on who he assumed held longer formed relationships with their partners looked mundane. Questions, lists, reminders. Often, it was simple words of affection. Sometimes not even words, just simple drawn hearts.
He sat on his bed with a pen in hand. He wondered if there was someone out there who had waited for a response from him and had given up. It was nearing three in the morning, a sleepless night after dreaming about having a soulmate.
Hesitantly, he uncapped the pen and held it just above his knee. He didn't feel comfortable enough writing with his left hand to mark his right arm. HYDRA didn't need him to write things with both hands, only to wield weapons.
Was the knee an appropriate spot to write? He wondered. If someone was on the other side, would they think it strange? Would they even see it? What does he even write? Does he keep it simple or write an explanation?
He capped the pen closed without writing a word.
Steve knew right away that he hadn't slept well when he showed up at the gym the next morning. "Buck," he said in that worried tone of his. In it was a loaded silent question that he didn't want to answer. Not yet. He needed to think about it first.
Instead, he shrugged his hoodie off. "What, you punk?" he asked. "You think missing out on a little sleep means I won't be able to whoop your ass?"
Sam snorted from where he was jogging around the perimeter with Peter who was watching the two of them with fascination. Steve rolled his eyes and settled in for the spar, "Jerk," he mumbled.
"I heard that."
"Good, at least we know your hearing ain't going out with the old age."
"As if you're not as old."
"What are they arguing about?" Peter asked Sam in that not-so-quiet whisper of his.
Sam shrugged. "Who even knows man." They stopped their run to watch the two of them deck it out in a more brawl-like style, a change from their usual coordinated training. "Let's… just leave them to it."
He was in Tony's lab with Peter the following weekend. Tony had stepped out to take a very important call he pressed ignore on four times in the last two hours until Pepper came in with that stern not quite yell to get Tony to do her bidding.
Bucky listened to Peter ramble on and on about school when he had a thought. He sat up straighter looking at Peter trying to remember how old he was. "You eighteen yet, kid?"
Peter froze, wide-eyed and surprised by the sudden change in subject. "Uhh. No? I mean. No," he said more firmly after his voice cracked. He put down the tablet he was working on to stare at him in confusion. "Why?"
He rubbed at his cheek glancing away for a moment to think about how to ask. "I… I was recently reminded of something. The whole soulmate thing. With the writing?"
The younger kid jumped forward in excitement. "Did you have someone?" He froze again remembering the Winter Soldier history and winced. "Ahh," he faltered unsure of what to say.
Bucky laughed dryly and pat the kid on the shoulder reassuring him. "Steve said back then neither of us had someone write back. But during the in-between. I don't know. Can't remember and wouldn't have noticed if any writing came up anyway."
Peter nodded in understanding. "Are you gonna try?" he asked, "Writing I mean?"
"Haven't decided. Don't know what to write. I'm technically a centennial, what could I even say?" he paused realizing he was just unloading all of the questions that plague him on the poor kid. "What would you write? Is that too personal to ask?"
Peter sat on the table, legs swinging as he thought. "I don't think it's personal. Most people just start with hello." He laughed. "I've been trying to think of something clever for my eighteenth birthday. But I haven't thought of which one to use yet."
He chuckled. He could easily imagine the kid writing large blocks of witty text to his soulmate. He let Peter brainstorm some ideas for him, not having the heart to tell him he was probably never going to write on his skin with the intention of waiting for an answer.
The kid was intuitive though. He lulled in his rambling and looked up at him with Bambi eyes. "Are you worried about it?" he asked.
Bucky didn't frown but it was a near thing. "Not worried… mostly... resigned."
"Would it be better knowing no matter what at least you tried? Even if the end wasn't what you wanted? Or would you be okay with all the what-ifs?" Peter asked. "It's what May reminds me whenever I worry over something."
He reached out ruffling Peter's hair and ignoring his indignant 'hey'. "Your Aunt May is a smart woman," he said affectionately.
Peter grinned up at him all bright. "I know."
It was an early morning three days later. Bucky was sitting on his bed, pen uncapped and poised just over the skin above his knee. If nothing happened, his life wouldn't change, he'd forget all about this soulmate business and move on. But. there was always a but.
If on the rare chance someone did write back. Even if it was for a short while. Wouldn't it be nice to know that there was someone out there, who was ideally suited to him?
Pushing past the hesitation, he put pen to skin. Hello. He wrote a little shaky but resolved to be neater. I don't know if you've ever tried to write to me before, but if you have, I'm sorry you had to wait a long time for me to write you back.
He paused, unsure if he should write more. What could he say?
With a groan, he flopped back onto his bed throwing an arm over his eyes. What's done is done, he couldn't take it back. He threw the pen onto his bedside table or at least in that direction. Now, he just had to wait. He sighed. He could do that. If someone had written to him once, they would have likely waited for decades. The least he could do was wait patiently.
To Be Continued...
HELLO EVERYONE.
I know, I know. This isn't an update for Home Again or Novelty. It's been a while since I've updated anything here... If you follow me on AO3 I do have several other fics that's been posted and over the next few days, I'll be crossposting said fics. These were all written for prompts across several writing events I'd signed up for and a few Tumblr prompts. After this post, there will be 6 other updates (5 one-shots and the second chapter of this fic), once every evening up to the 27th. If you don't wanna wait every day for the updates, head on over to my AO3!
When is Chapter 7 for home Again being posted, you ask? I'm hoping if all goes well, at the end of this month on the 31st.
Thank you all for your love and support on all of my work I really appreciate it! I hope you'll enjoy my other stuff too! I'm sorry the updates stopped for a while there. I'm trying to fight this writer's block and it's been tough haha. Anyway, if you wanna see any banners for all of the fics or my master post of links, OR IF YOU WANNA DROP ME A PROMPT, come by my Tumblr: paramourparty.
Thanks again for your patience!
Until next time!