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marvelouslycaptivating · 3 months

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The story that started it all will soon be coming to a close. Go read part 8!!

A Swarm of Butterflies

Masterlist

Part One: An Accompanied Sunrise

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: Your first meeting with Steve Rogers elicits the fluttering of butterflies in your belly.

Authors Note: Hey y’all!! I’m new here on Tumblr and this is my first published fic. I plan to write for several different characters eventually!! So stick around and look out for your fav. This is the first part of a Steve Rogers series. I don’t know how many parts it will be just yet. It will be in chronological order from the first meeting forward. Please leave feedback in the comments!!! Message me requests and I’ll see what I can do. Happy reading friends!!

Ever since you had moved into the city you had strolled through the park a few blocks from your apartment each morning. The park was rundown and over grown because people preferred the new park that was build ten miles north, but this park was your favorite place. You found solitude and peace walking the abandoned trails that were intricately wound though a beautiful garden full of blooming flowers. Honeysuckles climbed the trees and bees buzzed about collecting pollen for their honey. Halfway through the trail, surrounded by roses was an old wooden bench. You sat there each morning to watch the make it’s ascent into the sky. The park gave you an escape from the city. It was a hidden treasure. It gave you a break from the chaos of everyday life. A moment to breathe. A moment to reflect and recollect your thoughts. It was the most cherished moment of each day.

You walked the familiar pathway in silence taking in the greenery encasing the trail. When you began to approach the rose bushes that were bursting with bright hues of red and pink you knew that you were nearing the halfway point of the trail and the old, wooden bench you frequented each morning. Your favorite spot in the city. You rounded the corner with a smile and spotted the bench. It was usually vacant, but on this particular morning it was occupied. You stood back beyond the rose bushes and admired the man sitting on your bench for a moment.

He sat on the bench with his muscular arms stretched across the back of it. His golden hair glinted in the morning light. His jaw was beautifully sculpted and his cheeks tinted the lightest shade of pink. His long legs were crossed at the ankles, wrinkling the bottom of his worn jeans. His face was tilted up toward the sky as he admired the variety of pinks and oranges painted across the sky. A soft smile graced his lips. He looked so at peace. You almost turned and headed back down the path. You wanted to allow him this peaceful moment. Maybe he needed it. Maybe it had the same positive effect on him as it did for you, but you couldn’t fight the undeniable pull you felt toward this man. Your feet carried you closer. You took small, quiet steps and came to a stop a few feet away. You took a deep breath and cleared your throat to speak.

“Excuse me,” you spoke. Your voice was soft, almost a whisper.

He turned his head to face you. His bright blue eyes meeting yours for the first time. It stole your breath for a moment, and you tried to calm your racing heart. You had never seen such an angelic looking man.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” You asked, your voice sounding small in the open space. He offered a warm smile.

“Not at all.” He spoke, moving his arms to rest at his sides. He scooted over to make room for you.

You sat down on the opposite end of the bench and crossed your arms over your torso. You could feel his gaze lingering on your frame, but you kept your eyes on the sky. A few moments passed before you spoke again.

,“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” You asked, breaking the silence between you. He turned his gaze back to the masterpiece appearing in the sky before you.

“It is. Since I was a kid I’ve loved getting up early and watching the colors change.” He replied.

“I come here every morning and watch the sunrise. It’s my favorite part of the day. Normally I’m alone. This park has been abandoned for a decade.” You explained, clasping your hands in your lap.

He chuckled, the sound deep and melodious. “I know. I’m from here.” He replied turning his body to face you. “I’m Steve.” He introduced himself, extending his large hand between you.

You turned finally really taking in his face for the first time. You felt foolish for not realizing who he was sooner. Those baby blue eyes were plastered on posters all over the city of Brooklyn.The pounding in your chest intensified. You wound your hands together to try to mask their shaking.

“I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N” you blushed, placing your palm in his.

As soon as your hands touched goosebumps erupted all over your arms, and it felt as though electricity danced through your veins. His hand was warm and much larger than yours. It was calloused and rough from years of fighting. You looked up into his eyes and he shot you a wide smile. He was easily the most beautiful human being you’d ever seen.

“What a beautiful name.” He replied, your hand still encased in his. At his compliment a swarm of butterflies began to take flight in your belly. Their wings fluttering fiercely and causing the most delightful sense of nervousness to wash over you. You hadn’t felt a sensation such as this in years. Your cheeks heated at the thought and you lowered your gaze for a moment.

“Thank you.” You said with a smile, finally removing your hand from his. You turned back to the sunrise then and took a deep breath trying to calm the fluttering in your stomach. He too turned his gaze back to the sky.

You sat together in comfortable silence as the sun climbed completely over the horizon. Birds fluttered around, squirrels skipped through the trees, and far off in the distance you could hear the rush of cars on their morning commute. The entire world was coming to life, and all you could think about was the super shoulder five feet away. How comfortable you felt sitting there with him, a stranger. The way it had felt when his hand touched yours.

Once the colors had faded into a bright blue and the awe of the moment had dissipated Steve stood from his spot on the bench. Smoothing his hands over the front of his jeans. He walked a few steps closer and looked down at you, hands in his pockets.

“Well Y/F/N Y/L/N, it was nice watching the sunrise with you.” He smiled.

“It was nice watching with you Captain Rogers.” You replied, standing from your spot and walking over to one of the rose bushes. You ran your fingers over the delicate petals of a deep, pink rose.

He laughed, “Please call me Steve.” You crossed your arms over your chest and shot him a warm smile. “Alright, Steve.” You responded. His face lit up.

“I’ve got to head back to the compound, but I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner sometime?” He asked, his voice nervous. He reached a hand back behind his head to rub his neck.

You blushed, caught completely off guard. After this moment you never expected to see him again, and you most certainly weren’t expecting him to ask you to dinner. You looked down at your feet nervousness suddenly overtaking you. You were so tied up in your thoughts that you had forgotten to respond.

“Oh, god. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to over step. Forget I asked.” He rushed out, waving a hand in dismissal in front of him.

“No, no. You didn’t over step.” You shot your head up to look at him. Taking a few steps closer to the towering man. “I was just caught by surprise. I would love to go to dinner with you Steve.” You offered a soft smile.

The super soldier blushed and bowed his head with a smile on his face. He shuffled his feet a bit before looking up at you. “Great. How about you write your number down for me?” He asked, pulling a small leather notebook and pen from his pocket and handing the items to you.

You laughed and took the notebook, writing your name and number on a blank page. You handed them back to him with shaking hands. He reached out for the book and as his fingertips brushed against yours you felt the butterflies wings beating once again.

“I’ll call you, Y/N.” He smiled, tucking the notebook back into his pocket.

“Looking forward to it, Steve.” You smiled. He turned and began to walk the opposite direction. He looked over his shoulder one last time and raised his hand in a small wave.

You smiled and waved back. You stood frozen in your spot as you watched the man disappear around the corner. You really hoped he would call. You turned and continued down the path with a smile on your face and a swarm of butterflies dancing in your tummy.

🦋

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marvelouslycaptivating · 3 months

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A Swarm of Butterflies

Masterlist

Part 8: The Mission

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: The team goes on their urgent mission and Steve uncovers some unnerving information.

Authors Note: Wow. It’s been awhile. I’m so sorry to leave you all hanging for so long. I have been dealing with all kinds of real life things. I’ve lacked inspiration, and honestly almost gave up writing altogether. Those of you that have hung around…thank you so much. It’s you who’ve inspired me to continue. Just a few parts left in this series!! My other stories will also be getting finished up as soon as possible!!

Click the masterlist link above to read other parts! I’m no longer doing a tag list as it’s hard for me to keep up with. If you’d like to know when a new part is released turn on those notifications!! I love you all dearly.

Steve walked out of your apartment building with a broad smile on his face. His heart felt as though it were about to take flight. He couldn't recall a moment in his life that he'd felt happier.

He unlocked his car and quickly opened the door, tossing his duffle bag on the passenger seat. He slid into the driver's seat and put the key into the ignition, turning it to bring the old car to life.

He took a deep breath in and looked up through the dew-covered windshield. The sun was painting the sky with the vibrant shades of pink, much like the sunrise the two of you had shared the morning you met. He couldn't stop thinking about taking you on a date after that morning, and now he couldn't stop thinking about watching every sunrise for the rest of his life with you.

He reluctantly tore his eyes away from the artistry before him and threw the car in reverse.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

About fifteen minutes later he pulled the car into his designated parking space at the compound and killed the engine. He quickly got out and grabbed his bag, slinging it over his muscular shoulder. He walked across the damp pavement and yanked the door open.

As soon as he stepped inside, he was met by the teams new secretary, Maggie. She was a young intern Tony had hired to help with administrative work. She was studying microbiology. She was always on time, professional, and a huge help to the team.

She had deep expresso eyes and a mane of spiraling curls.

"Morning Maggie." Steve offered her a smile.

"Morning Captain Rogers. Tony asked me to bring you straight to the hangar," She explained, extending a manilla file to him. He took in her perfectly manicured nails. They dark fuchsia shade popped against her skin. He wondered if the color would look good on y/n.

He took the file from her with furrowed brows. He flipped it open in his large hands.

"Straight to the hangar, huh? Must be important." He mused.

"Yes sir, I believe it's Hydra related." She replied, her heels clacking loudly across the marble floor as they walked.

His heart dropped as soon as she said Hydra. He looked down at the folder as he walked, quickly scanning over the mission brief.

A potential Hydra base near a village in the mountains. Villagers have been reported mysteriously missing for months. An informant believes that they are being abducted for experiments.

His palms began to sweat, and his heart rate increased immediately. A feeling of dread pooled in his stomach. He picked up his pace and Maggie struggled behind him to keep up with his inhuman strides.

"I've got it from here Maggie. Thank you!" he called over his shoulder, causing the young interns steps to falter and then retreat back down the hallway.

He reached the hangar in record time. Everyone else was already suited up and arming themselves. Natasha shot him a tight lipped smile. Tony wore a look of concern, and Bucky looked as uncomfortable as he was sure he did.

"Morning sunshine." Nat sing-songed in an attempt to ease his mood.

He tried to force a smile, but he couldn't hide the tension in his shoulders.

"Morning," he clipped, "We ready?" he asked.

"Waiting on you, Loverboy." Tony teased, tapping the front of his armor.

Steve sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. Bucky slapped a comforting hand on his shoulder signaling that he wasn't alone in how he was feeling.

"Right. Let me suit up then." he muttered robotically as he turned and headed towards the locker room.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Three hours later he was standing at the front of the Quinjet in his suit. His shield gleamed on his back and his gloved hands were in tight fists at his sides. Tony stood beside him explaining everyone's roles.

"Nat you find the control room. Hack into the system and download any files and information you can find on this hard drive. It will automatically upload your findings to Friday." Tony explained, handing the spy a small, metal drive.

"Barnes you and Rogers will go in first. You'll start clearing out any goons and then try to find the villagers that are being held hostage. Get them out and to safety. Sam you'll be our eye in the sky. We need to be prepared if they send for back up."

Steve stared ahead. His mind on a pretty girl back at home. He'd never been so distracted on a mission.

Tony glanced at him before continuing, "I'll go find the center of the base and I'll be placing explosives. After they're set, we'll only have about fifteen minutes before the go off. The blast will be large enough to bring the entire base down, so we need to be quick in and out."

Bucky offered a nod in understanding, Natasha blurted a quick "yes sir", and Sam just started moving. Steve stayed rooted in place his mind still adrift.

"Cap." Tony called, "Cap!"

Steve offered no response. Still staring into the abyss.

Tony's concern only grew as he took in his friends rigid stance.

"Steve." Tony laid a gentle hand on the super soldier's shoulder.

Finally, Steves eyes snapped over to Tony. His brows furrowed and his plump lips pulled into a frown.

"What is going on with you? You never zone out like that." Tony inquired, voice calm.

Steve released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He shook his head and looked down at his combat boots. Shame colored his features. He was normally a strong leader, but this mission felt different. He couldn't place why, but he was on edge.

"I don't know Tony. Normally I feel confident going into a mission, but ever sense I read that file this morning I've just felt this anxiety that I can't seem to shake." He confessed.

Tony nodded slowly, trying to understand.

"Look, I know Hydra puts you and Barnes on edge, but hundreds of people have gone missing, and they need our help. I wouldn't have called you in on your weekend off if I didn't need you." Tony explained.

Steve sighed. "I know."

"Alright, let's think of something positive to help get your mind off things. Tell me something good Rogers." Tony began to walk toward the back of the Jet. His armor whirring with every step.

Steve smiled for the first time since he'd arrived at the compound. His ocean eyes crinkling at the corners.

"She told me she loved me this morning." Steve confessed, heart fluttering once again.

Tony chuckled as he adjusted his armor.

"Finally," he exclaimed, "If I had to watch you guys give each other puppy eyes for another movie night I think I would've exploded." He joked.

Steve let out a laugh, reaching down to fiddle with the collar of his suit.

“It was different Ton.” Steve tried to explain, his voice shyly dropping an octave.

Tony turned eyes trained on his friend. Steve, the most level headed man he knew, wore a besotted smile. A glow emanated from him, and for the first time since Tony had met him…he looked at peace. He looked happy, and Tony’s heart felt warm.

“She isn’t just another girl. She’s everything, Tony.” He confided, “My heart couldn’t beat without her. She is everything I have searched for all these years. She is the other half of me that I thought was lost in that ice all those years ago.” Steve’s voice was thick with emotion, and his strong hands trembled slightly.

“I have to get home to her. For the first time in a long time home doesn’t feel far away.” His eyes finally rose to meet Tony’s, and tears brimmed his lower lash line.

Tony smiled a genuine, heartfelt smile as he strolled over.

“Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure you make it back, I swear it.” Tony promised, his hand squeezing Steve’s shoulder.

Steve offered him a smile and discreetly wiped at his eyes as Tony turned and called out to the rest of the team.

“Approaching our target in ten. Let’s do this!” He closed his helmet as he readied for the danger ahead.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As soon as the team entered the facility things went sideways. Hundreds of Hydra soldiers poured in from every angle, effectively trapping them at the entrance. They spent what felt like ages trying to take them down.

By the time every soldier had been eliminated they were all breathless and filthy. Natasha had a slight limp, Steve's lip was split, and Tony's armor was covered in dents.

"Alright." Tony breathed, hands on his hips. "Lets get this done. Stick to the plan. If you run into trouble ask for help over the comms." He ordered, taking off down a dimly lit path Friday suggested would take him to the center of the base.

Steve looked over at Natasha. The redhead was in pain, although she'd never admit it.

"I'm gonna go with Nat. You got this Buck?" Steve asked, eyes swinging over to his childhood friend.

Bucky nodded confidently reloading the gun in his hands.

"I don't need you to babysit me, Cap." Natasha sassed, brushing dirt from her uniform.

"Course not." he smiled, turning to take off down the hallway opposite of the direction Tony had gone.

He moved briskly down the abandoned corridor. The lights flickered eerily overhead, and he felt goosebumps explode over his arms. His stomach churned; something didn't feel right.

They swept a dozen empty rooms before finding the control room. Natasha hobbled over to the computers. She hacked into the system as quickly as her shaking hands would allow as Steve stood watch at the door.

He took a few deep breaths in a feeble attempt to calm his racing heart. His mind wondering to the girl he’d left behind at home. What were you doing right now? Were you finishing the book you’d started last week? Were you cuddled up on the couch in your pajamas watching the movies you were supposed to watch together this weekend? Did you miss him as much as he missed you?

He pictured your breathtaking smile as you gazed up at him before he left the apartment. He remembered the way his heart felt as though it were going to burst. He couldn’t wait to make it home to you.

He was suddenly snapped from his thoughts when Natasha spoke.

“Cap, get over here.” Her voice was laced with urgency.

Steve pushed himself away from the cold concrete wall behind him and strolled over to the spy. His boots made heavy thuds in the tile floor.

“Hydra has been running tests on locals just like we thought, but their experiments are failing. Every person they’ve used in their trials have died.” She explained, her eyes cold.

Steve sucked in a breath and ran a hand over his face. This was not what he wanted to hear.

“They can’t seem to get their super soldier serum right.” She explained further.

He eyes the words in the screen. They were all in Russian. He couldn’t read them. He knew Nat was sparing him all the gruesome details.

Suddenly she reached out and grabbed his forearm softly. Her eyes bore into his own. The look on her face made his heart speed up.

“Hydra has a plan to kidnap Y/N.” She stated calmly.

His heart stopped inside his chest. His lungs constricted and all of a sudden he couldn’t breathe. Had he heard her correctly?

“What?” He croaked out breathlessly.

“They plan to abduct her. They know that you’ll turn yourself in to free her.”

His large hands began to tremble. He could feel sweat beading in his furrowed brows.

His girl was in danger. The love of his life was in serious danger…because of him.

“No.” He whispered, his throat betraying him. He began to shake his head rapidly. His mind was spiraling out of control.

He began to pace the floor. His hands reaching up to tug at the golden strands of hair on his head.

If Hydra got ahold of Y/N there’s no telling what they’d do. He couldn’t stomach the thought.

His mind raced as alarm bells blared in his head. His blood ran cold.

This was a set up. This mission was a decoy. Hydra knew that the Avengers would show up if they suspected that civilians needed rescuing, but there was no one left to rescue.

That was why there were soldiers upon entry, but no back up had been called. No alarms went off. They practically waltzed right in and got into their database easily.

They were distracting them so that they could abduct Y/N.

His pacing immediately ceased.

“Damn it!” He bellowed, his fist colliding with the wall. Little pieces of concrete rained to the floor.

“This was a set up!” He turned toward Nat, chest heaving. “We’ve gotta get back. They’re going after her now.” He seethed.

Nats mouth opened and closed rapidly, but no words escaped. She turned and yanked the hard drive from the computer before effectively typing in a code to destroy the system.

“Let’s go!” She demanded as she strolled across the room.

She pressed her delicate fingers to the piece of equipment in her ear.

“Back to the jet, now. We’ve gotta get back.” She barked the command as she led Steve back the way they came.

“What?” Bucky questioned a minute later. “I haven’t found the hostages yet.”

Steve sighed and reached up to his own ear piece.

“There aren’t any. They’re all dead. This was a set up.” He stated flatly.

Nat spared him a concerned glance. His shoulders were rigid. His lips pressed into a thin line.

“What? What are you talking about?” Tony demanded, sounding out of breath.

Steve’s hands clenched into fists at his side.

“Hydra sent us here as a diversion. They’re going to abduct Y/N.” Natasha explained as Steve’s fist flew into another wall.

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marvelouslycaptivating · 6 months

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if i could give you the moon || s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x afab reader

*navigation/directory | request box | taglist | masterlist

word count: 5.5k (of mostly pain)

summary: your relationship with steve is nothing more than a string of lies and promises in a hearty affair, but hope lingers still.

warnings: swearing, angst, cheating, smut (degradation + appraisal, finger sucking, brief spanking, unprotected p in v, brief mention of hair pulling, use of the names ‘dove,’ ‘bunny,’ and ‘slut.')

a/n: highly recommend listening to moon song and/or midnight love while reading this :,)

‘you pushed me in and now my feet can’t touch the bottom of you’

Love is to be experienced as a delicate, never-ending symphony between two souls. Love is supposed to feel like soft sand under your feet, a perfect breeze flowing through your hair, and warm water wrapping around you in a comforting embrace.

But loving Steven Grant Rogers?

It’s sharp teeth sinking into your flesh that gnaw the meat off your bones. It’s total darkness and an unrelenting dagger piercing your very core. The blade twists, somehow sinking deeper with every thrust of his hips and soft groan that falls from his lips. The warm water that’s supposed to comfort you is freezing cold as it pulls you under, water filling your lungs.

“My pretty girl.”

He says it like it’s a title meant for you, only for you.

“Don’t think I could ever get enough of you,” he sighs. His hips drive faster into “Fuck- got such a tight little cunt, dove.”

You croon, your sounds being drowned out by you shoving your face into your soft comforter. You’d wash the sheets in the morning. It’s always less painful after he goes home when there’s no trace of him left behind.

Steve delivers a hard smack to your ass before gripping the aching cheek roughly in his hand. His free hand comes to rest on your hip so he can force your hips back into his to match his thrusts. He slaps your cheek again with the same roughness, desperate to pull more whimpers and moans from you.

His pace quickens, the tip of his cock deliciously hitting your g-spot as he slides in and out of you. “Come on, sing for me, dove,” he demands.

And you obey; loud moans and gasps falling freely from you now. A deep groan emits from the man behind you as your sounds greet his ears. Large hands grip your hips tightly, sure to leave bruises that would have you avoiding mirrors until they disappear.

“Look at that,” he groans as he pulls out of you slowly.

You wince at the obscene squelching noises coming from your sopping heat. He doesn’t notice your discomfort because you don’t allow him to. If he knew about that ache you feel every second of the day that he’s not stretching you out then he’d probably end things for good. Having bits and pieces of him is better than having none of him, you’d decided.

Steve watches closely as he enters you again, speaking through gritted teeth, “So. Fucking. Perfect,” he grunts in between thrusts. “Fuck, I can feel your needy cunt gripping me, bunny.”

“Stevie,” you mewl, grabbing fistfuls of the sheets under you, “Please, please.”

You’re not even sure what you’re begging for anymore. More of him? For him to go deeper into you, to fuck into you so roughly that you forget he’s not yours?

His thrusts slow as his hand tangles in your hair to gently pull you up and against his chest. Your head tilts back against his shoulder, your teary eyes locking with his lustful blues. He rocks his hips at a moderate pace like he’s savoring what he can of you. There’s not much to savor though, most of you has withered away and he takes what’s left of you home with him every night. He’ll return tomorrow night anyway, in your bed, to claim what’s left of your hollowed bones.

He coos softly as his eyes scan over your blissed-out expression, “There’s my girl. Always look so pretty getting stretched out by my cock, don’t you?”

Your jaw goes slack when one of his large hands travels down and between your legs to rub circles on your sensitive clit. The fingers in your hair come to rest under your chin, his thumb being placed in your open mouth. He chuckles when you immediately start sucking on it, relishing in the fact that only he could do this to you. Only he gets the pleasure of turning you this cock-hungry and seeing you this desperate. He’d already ruined every other man’s chances with you because, well, they’re no Steve Rogers- nobody is.

If only he’d thought the same about you as you do about him.

His head tilts to the side, his thumb leaving your mouth with a ‘pop’ as his hand makes its way onto the back of your head. He pushes your head so that your lips smash against his. His soft lips move with yours feverishly in a series of sloppy kisses. He kisses you with the same amount of need he always does, but you kiss him with a desire that runs much deeper than sexual. You need him in every possible way he’ll offer you.

His tongue swipes out in between kisses, urging you to open your mouth. For the first time, you allow him entrance without teasing. His tongue explores your mouth Your tongues swirl together as he explores your mouth. The kisses he offers you always have your mind reeling in the most blissful way. You figure it’s because it’s the closest you’ll get to being filled by him completely; his tongue down your throat, his fat cock stretching you so deliciously, him being yours for the time being- even if only for a few hours.

‘you couldn’t have stuck your tongue down the throat of somebody who loves you more’

“Close, m’close, Stevie,” you breathe out against his lips.

Steve pulls his lips away from yours to tsk at you tauntingly, “Are you? You gonna come all over my dick, bunny?” he asks, the circling motions on your clit coming to a stop so he can softly slap it a few times.

The slaps send a sharp tingle through you and your hips jolt forwards slightly, his cock almost slipping out of you. A growl makes its way from his chest and out of his mouth as he slams back into you fully. You pule when he starts to rub your clit again at the same speed as before.

"Such a pretty baby when you take what I give you- squeezing me so tight, s'like you were made for me."

“Please,” you beg, “Wanna come, please let me come.”

“No, you can wait," he orders.

“Can’t, Stevie. Need to finish.”

“I know you can hold it ‘cause only bad girls come without permission- and you’re not a bad girl, are you, dove?”

He would be the death of you. And you were sure of that simple fact.

“N-no,” you whine, the knot in your stomach tightening.

He chortles as your hips move to meet his, “I know you love being bent over like this, like the dirty little slut you are, but I think I want you on top of me so I can see that pretty face when you milk me,” he says with a grin.

You find yourself unable to conjure up anything other than a low hum as he sinfully ruts into you. His movements quicken, the pressure applied onto your swollen bud increasing. Moans and soft whimpers come from between your lips, your back arching off his chest. He doesn’t let you fall though, and his hand that once was wrapped by your hair flies down to your chest to steady you.

Thick fingers dig into your breast as Steve holds you tighter against him. You mewl when he pinches your hardened nipples between his digits. Somehow you’re able to hold your building release as he rolls the peak around, tugging only slightly. His thrusts become unrelentingly fast and the tip of his lengthy cock slams into your g-spot with a force that’s bordering painful.

‘It’s like you were made for me.’

To you, you were made for him. All of him fits so perfectly with all of you, from your witty personality paired with his serious exterior down to how your walls were molded for his cock.

You wondered if he thought she was made for him too.

Warm, salty tears run down your cheeks slowly as you take the pain that he’s unaware he’s inflicting. The physical pain was being dulled by the pleasure, and some nights that used helped the mental pain too, but not anymore. He places soft kisses on your cheek to kiss away the train of tears.

“What d’ya think, sugar? That sound good to you? You wanna bounce on my cock so I can see all of you?” he questions again, his accent becoming more prominent. You don’t respond, still unable to, so he speaks again, “C’mon, dove. Color?”

You manage to breathe out a, “Gre-green,” the first half of the word getting caught in your throat.

“Good, now come sit on my cock,” he demands as he pulls his girth completely out of you.

His hands pull away from your body, giving you just enough time to steady yourself. You whine at the loss of contact as you lower yourself to your knees, trying to catch your breath. The mattress sinks when he sits next to you before pulling his legs onto the bed, careful not to kick you, and straightening them.

Patiently, he waits with his back sat against your bed frame for you to take your spot on top of him. Rarely did he rush you because he always loses track of time when he’s with you. Not that time matters anyway since the woman he truly belongs to had been picking up the night shift for the last few weeks.

You shuffle on your knees to his side and throw your leg over his to straddle him. Steve's gaze never shifts from your face except for once to look at the sight of your dripping cunt being prodded by the fat head of his length. He grunts quietly when you slowly lower yourself onto him, the tightness of your clenched walls almost pulling him all the way in.

Hands make their way up your thighs with one stopping on your hip and the other on your waist. As you continue to sink down, his thumb brushes underneath your breast as it strokes your side gently. You’ve always been able to take him fully, whether with ease, or with a lot of foreplay that he never really minded because he loves to tease you.

“There we go, little bunny. Such a pretty girl, aren’t you?” he coos, the grip on your hip tightening as he bottoms out inside of you.

The bright blue eyes you’d come to love and hate were significantly darkened now. But that wasn’t unusual during times like these, for his usual sweet gaze to blacken and gloss over with lust and desire.

Almost as soon as you’d sunken fully down, his hand moves you around, swiveling your hips in circles. His length stirs inside of you, hitting that familiar soft spot that makes you gasp. A rough hand kneads your breast as he starts to bounce you up and down on his length. The movement is painfully slow at first but builds up speed after a minute.

You moan loudly as you ride him, not bothering to muffle your noises. As much as you don’t wish pain on her, the selfish part of you wants her to walk in on the unholy scene; him plowing into you, his hungry stare glued to your bouncing tits, the lewd noises of skin against skin filling the room. Maybe if she saw you two like this then you could have him. He was amazing, truly, and you know that you’d want him all to yourself if you were her too.

You take control from him for a moment, pushing down on his chest as you move. He allows you to do so, his hips only moving in the same slow swiveling motions from earlier. His dick swirls inside of you as you ride him and it provides an extra sensation that has you whirling.

That knot in your stomach tangles itself up again as you ride him quicker. You lose control of your movements after a few seconds, your hips stuttering as you try to keep a steady pace. Per usual, as he does with everything you do, Steve takes notice of it quickly.

“You close again?” he rasps, although he’s fully aware of the answer.

He takes over again, bouncing you so that his thrusts meet yours in the middle. He’s also knowing of the fact that you probably won’t find it in you to respond, so he speaks once more.

“You can let go for me now. Been such a good girl tonight, you deserve to come,” he praises you, his voice husky due to his own climax approaching.

“Stevie,” you whimper lowly, wanting to come with him.

“I know, dove, s’alright; come for me, promise I’m right behind you.”

The verbal confirmation is all you need to let yourself release. Your body spasms, your vision blurring into a white static as your eyes shut tightly. An embarrassingly crude string of moans make their way out of your mouth and deep grunts emit from his chest as you clench around him.

Both of his hands come to sit on the back of your head and pull you down to his face. His lips press to yours so hard that both of your mouths open, your teeth clashing. The kiss doesn’t last longer than a few seconds before he’s groaning into your mouth. His lips disconnect from yours and he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

The sight of your face twisted in pleasure stuck in his mind, his thick cock still sliding in and out of you, is all it takes for him to let go too. Strings of hot, white cum paint your insides. The warmth of his seed sends a tingle down to your core that only prolongs your orgasm. His thrusts slow almost to a stop but his hips occasionally rut into you roughly as the two of you ride out your high.

The feeling is both sour and sweet because you know he’s going to leave. He’s going to clean you up, either in a quick shower together or with a warm rag, get you some water, and then hold you until you fall asleep. You’re never sure if he leaves when you’re sound asleep or when the sun starts to rise and his fiancé gets off work. All you know is that he leaves, and he’s never there when you wake up.

And that’s what hurts more than almost everything- that you’ll always be right here waiting for the man who’ll never be waiting for you.

'so i will wait for the next time you want me like a dog with a bird at your door’

“Love you, I fuckin’ love you,” Steve moans quietly against your neck, brushing your hair back softly.

Ouch.

Maybe if it hadn't been the first time he'd said the words, it wouldn't have hurt as much. Or maybe it was always going to hurt to hear them because they're always going to be whispered as a secret.

“Steve…,” you trail.

“I know,” he whispers.

He places a few chaste kisses on your neck before moving his head back up so that his forehead rests on yours. Your fingers dig into his hard biceps as you swallow the lump in your throat. Your chests are pressed together, your heartbeat in sync with his. Soft pants fill the silence that's thick in the room.

"Color?" he asks.

"Green."

Your eyes finally open to meet his gaze. His eyes are softened now, perfectly showcasing the soothing waves of baby blue in them. Tinges of regret and disappointment can be seen beneath all the longing and drowsiness in his eyes.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

You offer only a nod in agreement before pulling off of him, his semi-hard cock sliding out of you. He slides off the bed, leaning down to pick up his clothes. You come to stand beside him as he pulls his boxers up, looking up at him affectionately. He then slides his shirt onto your form with ease before helping you pull your arms through the sleeves.

The shirt smells just like him, an intoxicating musk paired with amber and sandalwood. You exchange a knowing, grateful glance with him and he returns the look with a smile. He laces his fingers with yours and leads you to the bathroom in your bedroom.

"D'ya want to take a bath with me tonight, dove? You might be sore tomorrow," he says.

You're almost starstruck by his question. A shower together wasn't uncommon if he had the time to spare, neither was him running you a bath if he was running short on time, but he'd never asked about a bath together before. You'd never thought to ask about it before either, deciding the act was too romantically intimate.

"You'll take one with me..?"

"'Course I will, bunny," he replies, the corners of his mouth turning up ever so slightly, "Is that a yes, then?"

He waits for you to hum a soft 'mhm,' before turning the water on. You sit on the closed toilet as he glances down at you. Without taking his eyes off of you, he leans down to pick up your favorite vanilla bubble bath soap. Only then does he look away from you to pour a decent amount of soap under the running water in your large tub.

Most nights, he wouldn't dare use your soap, let alone bathe in it. It was almost as if he was starting to care less and less about covering his tracks. But you knew that wasn't true and he'd probably just wash your scent off as soon he got home.

Steve sat himself on the edge of the tub next to you, one hand on your thigh and the other swirling the soap to create more bubbles. The first time he'd done this for you, you told him you liked a lot of bubbles, and he remembered that. He always remembered the things you like.

You continued to watch him while the water rose in the bathtub. When it was considerably full with the warm water and thick vanilla-scented froth, he stood and offered his hand to you. A smile graces his lips when you place your hand in his. Once you're standing, he pulls his shirt over your head and helps you lower yourself into the water. The bubbles embrace you as you scoot up to give him enough room behind you.

He joins you only a few moments later, his legs stretching out on either side of you as he pulls you into his lap. His strong arms wrap around your midsection tightly and you melt into his touch. Your eyes close in contentment, your head tilts back to rest lazily on his shoulder.

A chuckle rumbles through his chest as he places a kiss on your temple. Your face nuzzles into his neck to place a soft kiss at the base of his throat.

"You comfortable, dove?"

"More than," you whisper, lost in the feeling of his embrace.

"We can stay like this for as long as you want," Steve replies as he glances down at you, "I promise."

Does he do this for her too? Touch her with such a tenderness that you can’t help but swoon at? Whisper soft, sweet nothings into her ear that would make anyone weak?

Only a few beats of silence pass before he speaks again, "M'gonna give you the world one day," he murmurs, "You're my sunshine, you know that, right?"

'and if i could give you the moon i would give you the moon'

The unusual affectionate sentiments throw you off. It wasn't odd for him to be sweet to you, but it was different for him to be expressing it so verbally. He usually preferred to show his affection towards you in more physical ways- it used to be easier that way. While the words are nice to hear, silky as they roll off his tongue, they sting a little. As far as his loving nature goes, you would never be the first to hear the loving words he spews.

Your heart clenches, but you respond nonetheless, "And you, mine," you whisper back.

Minutes pass by as Steve holds you close in the water, the fragrant bubbles surrounding you both. It's a moment of tender vulnerability that you don't get to share with him often. His whispered promises pierce you, leaving you both longing for more, and you wishing for a future where these moments with him are reserved for you. He's like broken glass slipping through the cracks between your fingers, and you're like water in his hands.

Steve began to gently wash your body, his touch gentle and filled with care as he ran the soapy loofah over your skin. He always knew how to soothe your aches from the physical exertion, but the emotional weight of being the other woman was untreatable. His hands moved in soothing circles, kisses raining down on your shoulders and neck. Occasionally he mumbles little praises like 'my pretty dove,' and 'such a cute little bunny,' in your ear.

"Gonna miss you tonight," you admit as he rinses the loofah in the water.

He pauses briefly before rinsing the bubbles off of you, "I know- I miss you every night, dove."

'Then stay,' you want to say- but you don't.

"But you know I'll always come back to you, right?" he adds, "And even though I leave, my heart always stays here with you."

You want to say more but instead hum another low 'mhm', reaching forward to pull the plug from the drain. The water, tinted slightly white from the bubbles and soap, spirals down the drain. Steve helps you stand and steps out of the tub, grabbing a towel for you and one to wrap around his waist. He cocoons you in a fluffy, plush towel, his touch lingering as he dries you off. Then he dries himself off just enough to throw his boxers back on before taking you back into your bedroom.

"What're you wearing t'night, bunny?" he inquires, leading you to sit on your bed.

He shuffles over to your dresser, awaiting your answer. When he doesn't receive a response, he cocks his brow up at you expectantly, and you shrug back at him.

"Black lace," you finally respond, "And your shirt..?"

When he doesn't answer immediately, nerves pool in your stomach as a manifestation of your worry that you've crossed a boundary. Steve glances at you and a storm of emotions swirl behind his deep blue eyes for a moment. The room feels heavy, the air being replaced with thick tension and unspoken thoughts.

"Sweetheart, I don't know if that's a good idea tonight," he sighs, his head lowering to avoid your gaze.

How silly of you to think you could keep a piece of him here. His bits and pieces you thought you got to keep were reserved for her too, now that you think of it. You merely got her scraps. But he's her fiancé, so what else could you have expected?

"It's alright, I'm sorry," you say, mumbling the added, "Don't know why I asked anyways."

A frown makes its way onto his face, "Bunny, please don't do that,” he coos as he grabs your lace panties from the drawer.

"Don't apologize to me." Steve's eyes soften as he walks over to you, his hand delicately lifting your chin to make you meet his gaze. "You can have my shirt."

"Steve, really, it's-"

"You can have it. I know it's hard not having any piece of me here, I feel the same way when I'm without you, my sunshine," he admits with a soft smile.

"Thank you," you whisper, thanking him for both the offer and the vulnerability he gives you.

His hands cup your cheeks, one thumb brushing your cheek. He presses his lips to yours without another word. The kiss is slow and chock-full of passion, a silent promise of the love he feels for you. You practically sink into the feeling of his lips on yours, cursing whatever force brought you into his life after he met her.

When he breaks the kiss with a soft sigh, forehead resting on yours, you open your eyes. You stare longingly into the familiar seas of blue, getting lost in them. You start to feel like you're drowning again, but, this time, the sinking is caused by the way he looks at you.

'you are sick, and you're married and you might be dyin' but you're holdin' me like water in your hands'

Your body shivers as your air conditioning turns on. He walks to the bathroom to grab the shirt then slides it over your shaking form.

“Better?” he asks softly.

“So much better,” you reply with a yawn, savoring the scent of him on his shirt.

Steve tilts his head in adoration, “I’ll get dressed and we’ll go to bed, okay bunny?”

You nod in agreement then push the disheveled comforter to the far side of the bed. Steve slides back into his pants that were long forgotten earlier in the night before turning to face you. He watches affectionately as you scoot backward on the bed to lie down, a smile threatening to force its way onto his face.

Once you're settled in comfortably, he takes his spot next to you and pulls you into his side. His heart starts to beat a little faster than usual when you lay your head on his chest. A strong arm wraps around your waist to hold you as close as possible, his other hand stroking your hair back in a soothing manner.

Your bedroom is enveloped in an aching silence as Steve holds you as close as possible. Time always seems to stand still whenever he holds you. The only reminder of the outside world's existence is the impending, and unavoidable, separation soon to come that weighs heavily on you. The weight is heavy on him too, but he'd never tell you just how heavy it is for him.

His chest rises and falls with each steady, slow breath he takes. You can feel and faintly hear his heart beating just beneath your ear, a bittersweet reminder that he's real and actually there- that this isn't just a dream.

The room is bathed in a soft glow from the moonlight filtering through your curtains, creating a serene ambiance. It's a serenity that doesn't feel deserved, a stark contrast to the guilt and longing that nip at your flesh.

Steve breaks the silence, "I do love you, you know," he admits in a whisper.

"I know," you reply with an equally soft tone, "and I love you."

"You're my everything," he promises.

"I wish I could be."

"You are," he says reassuringly, "Bunny, you mean everything to me. Please don't ever doubt what I feel for you."

You squeeze your eyes shut tight in an attempt to hold back the tears that long to spill over. You've heard these words before, but tonight they feel more real. Maybe they feel more real because they're only spoken in this intimate space that you and Steve created.

"But you go back to her every night," you mumble, half hoping he didn't hear and half hoping he did.

His movements still, his body tensing for a moment. He heard.

He sighs deeply, "I have to, dove, you know that. But I promise that one day, soon, we won't have to hide. You deserve more than this and I'm going to give you more. Just hang in there for me a little longer."

You want to believe him. You want so badly to believe the promises of a future he's selling you, but you can't. If you give in to all of the promises and all of the desires, what do you have left to keep you grounded? Why gamble in putting your trust in something that's nothing more than an idea?

"I won't ask you to leave her, but who do you want, Steve?"

He pauses as if thinking about his answer, "You. It's always you."

"Then why does it hurt so much?" you whisper with a trembling voice.

His hold on you tightens, "Because you're a good person. Loving you is the most beautiful but agonizing thing I've ever felt, and I can't keep hurting you. I'm going to fix this, okay?"

When you don't say anything, he speaks again, "I wouldn't promise you something I can't keep. Try to get some sleep for me, bunny. I'll be back tomorrow, just like always."

There's a quiet, unspoken understanding between the two of you. For now, you close your eyes and find comfort in his presence and warmth. The soothing feeling of his hand in your hair and arm around your waist puts you to sleep rather quickly. You always fell asleep faster when he was here, and you probably always will.

Steve stares down at your peaceful, sleeping form for about an hour after you fall asleep. His eyes trail over the face he's come to never stop thinking about. From the very moment he wakes until the time he sleeps, he's thinking about you. You never slipped his mind and it didn't seem to matter whether he was with you, her, or by himself.

Of course, he'd never pegged himself as the selfish type, but he was, and he knew it now. He knew it was selfish of him to keep you and her, but he'd be selfish even if he ended things with you earlier since he would always come back to you. Now he was in too deep and it was simply a matter of who he had to hurt; nobody could come out unscathed at this point.

"God, I love you," he murmurs, his statement falling on deaf ears.

He gently lifts your head off of him and onto your pillow before slowly getting out of your bed. After he stands, he tucks you in under your comforter. The room is quiet aside from your soft breathing as he pulls his flannel on, buttoning it up to cover his naked chest. He pulls a little box from his pants pocket and adorns you with the gift he bought for you. Steve takes a brief second to memorize your expression before he turns to leave. When he slips out of the room, he can't help but feel the guilt of the choices and promises he's made.

The door clicks shut behind him, waking you slightly. You notice that his warm figure isn't under you anymore. You'd expected it, but it hurts nonetheless. So, you drift back into an almost restless sleep, hoping to wake up from the cruel dream where the man you love isn't truly yours. A small and irrational part of you prays that when you wake up you'll be in the future; a future where your love can be more than a symphony in the night.

'when you saw the dead little bird, you started cryin' but you know the killer doesn't understand'

When you wake, thick sunlight pours through the blinds and curtains. The morning sun that you used to love waking up to is now just a brutal reminder that another night has passed, and you're still waiting. You sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and trying to reorient yourself. The emptiness in the room bathes you in loneliness.

As you stretch and get ready to get up, the feeling of something cold sliding around your neck makes you pause. You look down to find a delicate rose gold chain with a small pendant. Your brows furrow in confusion as you pull it up closer to your face to observe it. There, hanging from the chain, is a matching rose gold locket. The locket is heart-shaped and detailed with intricate lace patterns. It opens with a tiny latch to reveal, what you assume is, space for a small picture.

Your heart flutters as you realize it's a gift from Steve. Gently, you open the locket to find a tiny 's.g.r' engraved on the empty side and a small photograph of the two of you on the other. It's a candid shot, and your favorite picture, from a few months ago. It was taken by Bucky when the three of you went to get ice cream in the park after a four week-long mission. The photo captured a moment of genuine happiness on both of your faces, only weeks before Steve made the first move on you.

Tears spill freely from your eyes as you smile down at the locket, closing it in your hands. A knock sounds at the door, pulling you out of your thoughts. You sniffle and wipe the tears from your eyes. Your legs fling lazily over the edge of the bed and you make your way to the door.

"Coming," you call out.

You open the door to find Steve standing there. His hair is messy, his hand still running through the damp strands, and his eyes are slightly red. Your eyes widen a little at his disheveled state.

"Steve? What are you doing here so early, are you okay? I-"

"I told you I would fix it, and I did," he states, "I choose you- I want an honest life with you and I always will."

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marvelouslycaptivating · 8 months

Text

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐊𝐢𝐝.

—boxer!bucky x reader

—summary: bucky hated his job just as much, if not more, than you did. but if you wanted to live the remainder of your lives together comfortably, you'd both have to stick it out. which included him having to fight your ex husband.

—word count: 7.2k

—tw: swearing, alcohol, violence, blood, guns, hospitals, abuse (not from Bucky), Br*ck R*mlow, grammar mistakes, unedited lol

—a/n: my first Bucky pic! Yay! this is kind of a heavy one, as all of my fics are, lol, so if any of the triggers bother you pls don't read any further! I wanna write more blurbs based on this so keep an eye out for those. also Steve and nat are married in this, and sam's wife is an OC named Sonya, I picture her as Kiki Layne but feel free to use imagination! enjoy!

It was never fucking easy.

He had promised. He had always promised that it would get easier.

Of course, you’d believed him at first. When the love of your life whispers sweet promises into your ear with his hands grasped at your waist, your knees turn to jello and you believe him.

But as time went on, how could watching your fiance get his face smashed in repeatedly by his opponent wearing a red boxing glove ever get fucking easier?

“It’ll get easier, baby. Promise.”

Bullshit.

The tremor in your fingers never eased, the clamminess of your hands never dried, the tunnel vision barring you from seeing or hearing anything that wasn’t Bucky in that goddamn ring never let up.

“What if it doesn’t?” You whispered.

If there was anything in this God forsaken universe that Bucky Barnes loved, it was you. And he hated himself for making that promise, because it never got easier for him either. The last thing he could ever want was to see his girl shaking in panic, a panic that he caused. But, this was all he knew. His father was a boxer, and he’d been training since he was a teenager. There was no other life for him now, he just needed her to hold on a little bit longer. Just a little bit longer until his contract is up and he can retire forever, having made enough money for the both of them to live comfortably for the rest of their lives and raise a family.

He hoped and prayed that it would get easier, that the pain both of them felt would subside until it was over. But of course, nothing ever seems to work out that way.

—

“Well if you aren’t as beautiful as the day I first met you!”

“That was only 5 years ago Tony. You gonna break my husband’s contract or what?”

Tony Stark, the loveable yet completely tiresome man who managed your fiance, along with multiple other well known boxers under SBA.

“You know that’s out of my control, gorgeous.”

You sighed. Of course you knew. Tony owned the company when you first started dating Bucky, but things changed, and Tony ran out of money. He was eventually bought out by Nick Fury, a good man who let Tony keep a high up enough job at the company, but he played by the rules. He refused to let Bucky end his contract and keep his money.

“I know it.” You rolled your eyes and patted him on the back as you made your way into the gym.

“Visitors pass!” Tony called after you and you flipped him off, causing him to chuckle. You made your way to the far corner of the gym, knowing it was exactly where Bucky and his friends would be on a Thursday.

“Afternoon, boys! Your voice sang through the gym as you raised a hand in the air, catching the attention of the 3 more so men than boys huddled in a circle with their arms folded across their puffed up chests.

You scoffed. Men.

Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, and Bucky Barnes. Or, “The Big Three” as most of their fans called them fondly.

Steve and Bucky both trained under the infamous Sam Wilson, originally the heavyweight champion for the PBA before a debilitating head injury left him and his wife fearful for their future and the future of his newborn daughter. Sam was lucky enough to break his contract with PBA, with the help from his lawyer who found multiple legal loopholes, at the fault of the CEO, Alexander Pierce, who Sam describes as “an asshole on a stick”.

You always thought it was so funny, these 3 big men that just turned to absolute putty in the presence of their girls. Just 3 soft teddy bears that only a select few got to see the sweet, carefree and fun side of.

Just last weekend, you and Bucky hosted a dinner party for all your friends at your new penthouse in New York.

–

“Steve, for the love of all things good, feet off of the sofa!” You scolded from your seat at the bar where you were accompanied by Sam’s wife, Sonya, and Steve’s wife, Natasha, along with Tony’s assistant, Wanda. Sam’s youngest girl, Thalia, was on your lap, head rested on your chest and playing with your hair.

Steve groaned, yanking them off and planting them on the ground before hoisting himself up and making his way towards the bar for a drink for himself, but not before plucking Thalia from your grip.

You were extremely proud of yours and Bucky’s home, it was exactly like you’d always dreamed. A kitchen with the most gorgeous island and oak cabinets, a beautiful dining room with a sparkling vintage chandelier and a table big enough to fit your dysfunctional family, a full functioning bar in the living room and the most stunning view of New York a small town girl like you could never dream of. Bucky wanted to give you everything and more.

“She sent me the link to that sofa when she first ordered it, and for that price you better keep those nasty ass feet off of those cushions.” Natasha berated, pointing a finger in her husband’s face, who responded by playfully biting the end of it before kissing her nose, causing the woman to scrunch her face, and earning a giggle from Thalia.

“Ever so charming.” Sonya taunted, rolling her eyes before taking a sip from her martini, only to make a sour face. “Tony this is the worst martini that’s ever made its way past my lips!”

“I make men fight, Mrs. Wilson, not martinis, be thankful you got anything at all.”

You shook your head, though a smile still played upon your lips as you felt your fiance’s well built arms wrap around your waist, his lips grazing your shoulder.

“Well, hello handsome.” You greeted, turning your head so he could give you a kiss on the lips.

“Hi, my love.” He said ever so gently, pressing a kiss to your brow before letting his lips linger there.

“When are you two lovebirds finally gonna get married?” Sam asked, breaking the silence as he reached over Wanda to grab a piece of cheese from the assortment of snacks you’d set out before dinner. His comment earned a smack on the arm from Sonya.

“If you don’t wife her, Barnes, I might. Because this amaretto sour she made me is kind of to die for.” Wanda joked, sipping from her drink.

“And that sauce just smells heavenly.” Tony remarked, popping a grape into his mouth.

“And this decor…” Steve said, looking around the apartment, wrapping an arm around Natasha. “Honey, do we need a third?

“I think we might-”

“Alright, alright.” Bucky said, tightening his grip around your giggling frame. “Everyone back off of my girl before things get ugly.”

–

Bucky turned to you, his face lighting up as he saw his girl, beautiful as ever, walking through his gym with a cooler bag in hand, lunch for him, no doubt. He met you halfway, picking you up by your waist, spinning you around and dipping you before kissing you in front of all the men who liked to stare a bit too long as you walked past them in your tight jeans and small tank top.

“Bucky!” You squealed, “Don’t make me drop the food I slaved away making for you all this morning.”

Bucky froze, raising an eyebrow, “All?”

Steve and Sam’s ears perked up, “All?!”

You smiled, wiggling out of Bucky’s grip, but keeping one hand wrapped in his. “Thought it’d be a fun surprise!” You set down the cooler bag and let the 2 men rifle through what you had to offer. Salmon, rice, steamed vegetables, your special sauce that you refused to share the recipe to, and multiple bags of your boxer diet- friendly chocolate chip cookies that the boys went crazy over.

“Mrs. Barnes you are quite literally a saint.” Steve said, gripping your small head in his hands and planting a kiss right in the middle of your forehead.

You and Bucky weren’t married, he hadn’t even proposed yet. But you both had a habit of calling each other ‘husband’, ‘wife’, ‘fiance’, and everyone else’s favorite ‘Mrs. Barnes’.

You laughed and wiped the remnants of Steve’s kiss before turning to Bucky, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“How are you today, doll?” He asked, a serious tone on his face as well as settled in his eyes.

You grimaced. Bucky had a fight today, and you weren’t exactly ecstatic over it. Well, you were never exactly ecstatic when Bucky had to fight. But, that was the only way to bring in money, and the only way to end his contract faster.

“Quentin Beck, right?” You smiled while Bucky ran a hand along your spine. “Easy money.”

“I know that’s right!” Sam whooped, cookie crumbles falling from his mouth. “Gonna need all the practice you can get before you fight Rumlow!”

Brock Rumlow.

One of the meanest, most vicious fighters of the PBA, heavyweight champion the past two years. He gave Wilson the head injury that put him out. He nearly killed Steve 3 years ago.

Infamously known as “The Hydra”.

Cut off one head, two more grow back.

And much to your dismay, your ex husband.

You had married extremely young. After running away from your small town in Georgia at 18, you met Brock Rumlow at a fancy party you snuck your way into with some girls you met at your job. He promised security, safety, wealth, love.

You got maybe two of those things.

You met Sam through Brock, he helped you through all of the legalities of divorce after you showed up on him and Sonya’s doorstep in the rain, soaked, bruised, and shaking.

It’s how you met the love of your life.

“Bucky…”

He hadn’t told you he was fighting Rumlow.

Sam regretted his words as they barely even tumbled past his cookie stuffed mouth as Steve shook his head, pity evident on his features as he looked at you.

“Doll…”

His voice was so achingly gentle, his eyes so painfully soft as he continued to hold you, letting you work through every emotion that seemed to be hitting you like a semi truck.

“Please say somethin’, honey. Anything.”

“Um- when, when is this happening?” You asked, trying your best to keep your cool amongst the many other men and women in the gym.

The three exchanged looks. Bucky had a world of time to tell you, but he was so damn afraid of the exact reaction painted across your face at that moment.

Everyone threatened to tell you multiple times, but Bucky insisted it needed to come from him, and he’d get around to it. Wanda even went so far as to dial your number one day.

You had picked up with your signature cheery hello and Bucky made a pleading gesture with his hands, desperation evident on his face as he wordlessly begged Wanda to keep her mouth shut.

“Hello?”

‘Please’ Bucky had mouthed.

“Wanda?”

Wanda shook her head before answering you, “Hey girl! Just making sure we’re still on for drinks this weekend.”

Bucky wanted to cry as he held you in his arms, not that he’d think you would be angry with him. You just had been through so much, you didn’t deserve to go through this too.

“Two weeks.” Bucky choked the words out.

You were stoic, staring at Bucky as if you were just staring straight at the weight machine behind him.

The three men held their breaths, terrified for the reaction you might give.

“Okay.” You said. Your voice suspiciously even. “Let’s beat this motherfucker.”

–

You never liked the private rooms at the arena.

They were nice, perfectly clean with comfortable couches and working restrooms. The mini fridges were stocked with sodas and snacks, the good kinds like cheez-its and coca-cola. They even had air fresheners in the corner of each room, making all of them smell like fresh laundry and flowers.

But that wasn’t your qualm.

You hated the rooms because all they brought were anxiety and pain.

The moments before a fight were filled with unshed tears you struggled to keep inside and Bucky’s arms around you, whispering the sweetest of words that seemed to drip like honey and stick to your ears.

The moments after were filled with panicked breaths that you tried so hard to conceal as you watched your husband's unrecognizable face get cleaned and bandaged by his medical team while he held your hands in his own, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs and occasionally bringing them to his lips to press sweet kisses to your wrists.

Today was no different.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay to be nervous.” Bucky said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

His med team just finished checking him before the fight, so he was sat on a temporary medical stretcher, his large arms wrapped around your waist, you had your arms around his neck.

He tried to pull away to look at you but you just shook your head and held him closer, allowing a few stray tears to slip.

“Okay.” He whispered, running his hands up and down your back. “Okay, doll. I’m here. Right here, okay?”

There was a moment of complete quiet. Just you and Bucky, the only sound being the whirring of the air conditioner in the corner. You didn’t want to ruin it.

“Don’t fight him.”

Yet, you did.

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows. “Beck? Baby, that guy’s barely even-”

“Rumlow.”

“Doll, you know I wish I could…”

“Bucky, please.” You pulled away from him then, feeling the ache in your bones of no longer being in his hold.

Bucky’s heart severed at the look on your face, cheeks puffy and eyes swollen, fat tears rolling down your skin but ever so beautiful.

“He’s doing this to get back at me.” You were sobbing now, not even fully pronouncing your words.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to give in. To say ‘Okay’ and tell Tony he wasn’t doing the fight. Hell, he’d march straight into Fury’s office if he could.

Bucky held your face in his hands, firm, yet gentle enough for you to want to just melt into him. He pulled you closer, settling your legs in between his knees.

“Tony did everything he could all these years to keep me from fighting him. We need this money, baby. We’re one step closer. We’re so close.”

You let yourself lean into Bucky’s touch, bringing your hands up to grip onto his wrists as you continued to cry. “I don’t want him to hurt you like he hurt me.”

Bucky hated thinking about what Rumlow did to you before you found the courage to leave. It took everything in him not to beat that sick son of a bitch every time their paths crossed. Which wasn’t often, but enough to get Bucky to think about it.

Luckily, Brock knew to steer clear of anybody from the Big Three. He wasn’t stupid. One wrong move and he could completely lose his contract. Though, it didn’t stop him from taunting Rogers or Wilson anytime he saw them, a disgusting grin splattered on his face, beaming with pride that he almost killed one of them and completely ruined the career of the other.

“I got this, babydoll. Then it’ll be one step closer to me and you.”

–

“Bucky ‘The Winter Soldier’ Barnes!”

The announcer’s voice pierced through the stadium, causing you to cringe. He hated that name, it was chosen for him by his father, whom Bucky resented throughout the entirety of the man’s life, until quite literally the day he died. He tried to change it, but everyone refused. He couldn’t change his brand this late in the game.

“And aren’t we lucky to have the infamous Big Three in the arena with us tonight!” The other announcer exclaimed as Bucky walked up to the ring with Steve and Sam in tow, his walk up song blaring through the speakers.

“And all three wives in the stands, it’s a family affair!” The screens lit up with the view of you, Natasha and Sonya sitting side by side in the stands, all adorned in T-shirts with Bucky’s face on them, and you did what all 3 of you were trained to do.

Smile and wave.

It was rare that all 6 of you were there at the same time. There was usually a straggler or two in the mix. Either someone had to stay home with the kids, a relative was in town, work came up, or you stayed backstage to sneak away from the fanfare.

“And don’t they all look stunning as ever!”

“Get this camera off of me so I can take a sip of my damn margarita.” Sonya mumbled, though continued to smile and point to her Bucky shirt.

You couldn’t help but cover your mouth as you laughed, trying to remain composed for the camera so nobody would speculate later. You could already see the fans on twitter spewing lies about Sonya having an attitude and being ungrateful.

The camera changed to Bucky, who seemed to be looking right at you so you turned, making eye contact with your man.

He broke into the most gorgeous smile you’d ever seen and your heart burst just before he blew you a kiss, causing the arena to erupt in cheers. You caught the kiss and pressed it to your cheek.

“What a sweet moment, but it’s time to move on.” The announcer’s voice rang in your ears once more.

“I love you.” You mouthed.

“I love you more.” Bucky mouthed back.

–

The fight with Beck went as everyone predicted. Bucky won, of course, but not without a fight from Beck. Which left him bruised and bleeding, but nothing nearly as bad as you some of the times you had seen him before, which was a thought you hated but it was a relief for now.

Bucky could feel the ache down to his bones.

Not of pain, or exhaustion, or anger.

The ache of how much he loved and completely adored you as he looked down at you, your head in his lap, completely enthralled by the movie playing in front of you as if the two of you hadn’t seen it countless times. Bucky could recite it beginning to finish.

“Here’s looking at you, kid.”

Bucky spoke along with Humphrey Bogart on the screen and you smiled, slightly turning your head to look at your husband, and he was already looking at you.

“Sap.”

Bucky smirked and leaned down to place his lips on your temple, lingering there for a moment before sitting back up and letting his eyes return to the movie, his fingers mindlessly running up and down your torso.

You stayed that way for a while, positions switched, Bucky’s eyes glued to the TV, and yours glued to him.

The purples and blues on his face made you frown, and you could just cry at how beautiful he looked, face illuminated by the black and white of Casablanca, his perfect lips unconsciously mouthing the words.

You yearned for this life forever with him. Everyday he promised you were one step, a couple thousand dollars closer to living up to his contract and getting all of the money he was owed. He could be a trainer with Sam. Still bring home consistent money, but be safe,

Safe.

The word rang in your ears until you winced.

Safe. Safe. Safe. Safe.

Nothing about your life, except for Bucky, felt safe.

It felt completely out of control, unpredictable, scary.

Bucky knew that and it broke his heart to know you went through everyday life being scared out of your mind. He’d break his contract now if he wasn’t completely certain, without a shadow of a doubt, that the two of you were going to come out the other side of this happier and more secure than ever.

“We’ll always have Paris.”

You’ll always have me.

–

Bucky had been at the gym for nearly 6 hours.

Sam put him on a strict “No visitors” rule, and “Yes, Mrs. Barnes that applies to you.”

And an “Especially, you!” From Tony.

Bucky didn’t have his phone on him, and you understood, he really did need to focus, the fight was in 5 days. Steve assured you that his phone would be on and close to him in case of emergencies, same went for Tony, Sam and Wanda.

So, you decided the best way to spend your time was with Sonya and Nat, using them as a distraction while the three of you holed up in your apartment, sipping seltzers and playing drinking games like you were teenagers again. Sonya left the girls with their Aunt for the day.

“Okay, if you could marry anyone in the big three, not including your own husband, who would it be?” Sonya asked, a smug look on her face before she added, “If you refuse to answer you take a shot.”

“Barnes. Without a doubt.” Nat said without hesitation and Sonya laughed at her transparency, covering her mouth with her hand.

“What?!” Natasha asked as you laughed as well, clutching your stomach.

“Have you seen where you live? Not only is it gorgeous but Bucky lets you decorate it however the fuck you want! And I’ve never once seen you have to ask him to do anything. He even cleans! Cleans!!!”

You and Sonya continued to cackle as Natasha continued to ramble, tears streaming down your cheeks while you clutched onto each other’s hands.

“Nat, baby, if you were so unhappy with Steve you shoulda said something!” Sonya joked, still holding back chuckles.

“I’m not unhappy with Steve! Wouldn’t trade him for the world! But, gun to his head, I had to trade him or else he’d die, I’d pick Bucky!”

You laughed, shrugging in agreement. You couldn’t blame her.

“You know what, I think I’d go with Mr. Barnes too. Y’all know I love Sam and I love our girls and don’t slap me for saying this either but he is entirely too easy on the eyes.”

The three of you burst out laughing again. You didn’t feel the slightest bit annoyed or jealous. These were your best friends, your sisters, who loved their husbands, and you, and each other’s husbands, and Bucky like family, and protected and fought for you like family. You thought it was kind of endearing actually, that they could see how yours and Bucky’s love was something special.

“You never said your answer, babe.” Nat said, gesturing to you with her can.

You pondered for a moment. Both men had been so good to you on so many different levels.

“Sam, but only because he was so good to me with the whole Brock thing, I don’t know if I could ever repay him. And you, Son.”

The vibe changed after that, your friends’ faces softened and the air felt heavy.

Sonya shook her head, exhaling through her nose, mumbling your name as if she were scolding you.

She wasn’t.

“Nothing can compare to that fear I felt. Nothing. It still keeps Sam up at night too.”

You frowned.

“But we’d do it again a million times if you needed us to. We would.”

She leaned forward, taking your hand, “Don’t ever, ever, insinuate that you owe us a damn thing. We fucking love you.”

You smiled, not realizing you were crying until the tears were wetting your lips. You were quick to wipe them.

Natasha had stayed silent for the most part, letting the two of you have your moment, she hadn’t been around then.

“And even though I wasn’t there I also fucking love you and would probably die for you.”

The moment was over almost as quickly as it began, the three of you going back to drinking and asking each other outlandish questions, until your phone rang.

“It’s m’ husbandd!” You sang, holding the phone up to your ear and smiling, your cheeks burning from intoxication.

“Hi, gorgeous. I’ve been tryin’ to open the door for ages. Did you lock the top?”

You gasped and slapped a hand to your mouth before hurriedly running to the front door, fumbling with the lock only for a moment before swinging it open to reveal a tired and amused Bucky, followed by Steve and Sam, lazy smiles pulling at their lips.

“Oh, my handsome boys! I locked you out! However, will you forgive me?!” You threw your arms around Bucky, falling into his embrace and he responded by peppering your face with kisses.

“Make me a double jack and coke and I might consider it.” Sam said, sauntering into the room and into the dining room, to sweep Sonya off of her feet no doubt. Steve did the same, before muttering, “I’ll show myself to the refrigerator.”

“Good man.” Bucky responded as he walked you into your home, shutting the door behind him with his foot.

“I missed you.” You mumbled against his lips while he kissed you again.

“Oh, my doll, my soul ached for you.”

“You watch too many 50’s movies, Barnes.”

“Are you complaining, darling?”

“Not at all.”

“Well then, here’s looking at you, kid.”

–

Bucky was stressed.

So incredibly stressed he felt like he might throw up.

He was fighting Brock Rumlow today.

He knew he could take him, that’s not what Bucky was worried about. He was worried about you. The thought of you in the private room, tears rolling down your face and shaky breaths filling the air, with him unable to hold you made him feel sick. He wanted you to stay home, in fact he practically begged you to stay home with Natasha and Sonya to keep you from turning on the TV but you completely refused. You’d be there, sporting a T-shirt with his name and face on it, and you’d look Rumlow dead in the eye while you celebrated victory with Bucky.

You would not hide.

And Bucky was so incredibly proud of you. His brave girl. But that didn’t change the fact that he was worried out of his mind.

“It isn’t too late to change your mind, doll.”

You were applying last minute makeup in the bathroom of your private room in the arena, Bucky behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I’m only leaving this arena when you do.”

“Okay.” He said softly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Whatever you do, baby, block him out. Don’t listen to his taunting. He’s trying to get in your head.”

Bucky nodded, wrapping his arms around your waist and lightly squeezing.

“Any chance you wanna back out together?” You asked, a sad smile on your face, knowing the answer.

Bucky only sighed and kissed your cheek.

It wasn’t long before Steve and Sam came to collect Bucky, or maybe it was. You could’ve stayed in that bathroom forever if it meant Bucky wouldn’t get hurt.

You followed behind him as he exited the room, his large hand engulfing yours. You had to get to your seat and he had to get to his place to talk and warm up before his walk out.

You connected your forehead to his and looked into his eyes, giving him a nod and a kiss before you separated, going to find Tony and Wanda, who would take you to your seats with Nat and Sonya.

You weren’t as high up in the stands as you usually were, requesting to be right next to the ring for this fight.

Everyone questioned the decision but you put your foot down. You wanted to be in Bucky’s eyeline, wanted him to easily see you.

You wanted to reach him easily if anything went south.

You didn’t pay attention as Tony patted your shoulder, or as Nat and Sonya squeezed your arms when Brock’s walk out song began, or the sympathetic glance Wanda shot your way when Brock looked at you with a nasty grin.

Bucky entered the ring and your heart stopped.

His eyes were glued to you.

You nodded.

He nodded.

“Lookin’ at you.” He mouthed.

“Always.” You mouthed back.

You don’t know where that became your thing in the past two weeks, or how it just now blossomed even though the two of you had been watching that movie for ages, but you adored it and thought it to be incredibly sweet.

The moment was short lived before Brock started mouthing off, but Bucky kept his cool, his hands clasped behind his back and his head held high.

You couldn’t hear what he was saying, though you were sure you didn’t want to.

Bucky was thanking God you couldn’t hear what he was saying.

“You take pride in the fact that you stole what was mine, Barnes?!”

Bucky said nothing.

“I wouldn’t think sloppy seconds were your style.”

Nothing.

“I see you’ve got your bitch sitting in the front row. Tight leash, huh?”

His blood was boiling but he didn’t flinch.

“Does she scream for you like she did for me?”

Bucky was just waiting for the ref to blow the whistle, he was itching to slam his face into the mat.

“She’s a good fuck, isn’t she Barnes?”

The whistle blew, and it was Bucky who was face down on the mat in seconds.

You wanted to gasp when Bucky went down but you held your composure, not only for him but also for the thousands of eyes on you, no doubt just waiting for a hysterical reaction.

But Bucky was quick, and regained himself quickly, taking his turn to pin Rumlow to the mat, holding his arm behind his back so he could not get back up.

It was brutal. The entire fight was vicious, blood and sweat ran down both men’s faces, drenching their necks and chests and you wanted to cry at the sight of Bucky’s already swelling bruises on his knees and face. His chest was heaving, and the look in his eyes was something you had never seen, even in all his years of fighting some of his toughest opponents in the ring. It was dark.

He was angry.

For Bucky, this was the best way for him to take out his anger on Rumlow for what that man had done to you. The years of nightmares and overthinking and tears and anguish.

“Damnit, I said no!” Bucky’s voice thundered across the kitchen, in perfect timing with his hand flying through the air to run through his hair and you flinched.

Your Bucky.

Your lovely Bucky who danced with you as the moonlight pooled into the room through your curtains on nights where you couldn’t sleep.

Your gentle Bucky who wiped your tears and washed your hair when your days were just too much.

Your patient Bucky who sat with you and instructed you to breathe with him, your hand to his chest when he’d come home to you panicking.

Your Bucky.

And you fucking flinched.

“Bucky I- I’m sorry. I just-”

He shook his head, his angry demeanor had completely vanished, his pretty blue eyes soft and beginning to fill with tears.

“Sweetheart, please don’t apologize. God, please don’t.

And just like that you were in his arms, a complete weeping mess because of what that man had put you through.

What Brock Rumlow had put you through.

That sick son of a bitch that was in front of Bucky now, a disgusting smirk on his face, blood seeping from his gums and smearing onto his teeth.

Bucky was certain he could kill him if it wouldn’t land him in prison.

“Come on, Buck.” You muttered, your knee rapidly bouncing up and down. You hadn’t noticed, but you were gripping Nat and Sonya’s hands.

You were trying your best to pay attention. Really, you were. But you kept going in and out of focus and flashbacks. You were sure people had caught multiple photos and videos of you spacing out, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to care.

Wanda has asked you multiple times if you wanted to go back and sit in the room, take a breather and maybe drink some water but you refused. You’d be right here.

And when the fight was finally over, when Bucky finally stood victorious over Rumlow while the ref held his red glove covered hand in the air and the crowd cheered, you could breathe again.

He was drenched in blood and bruises but you couldn’t feel anything except relief.

Bucky looked at you and you couldn’t help the tears that began to gather in your eyes and spill down your cheeks as you smiled at him. Nat and Sonya were cheering and hollering, jostling your shoulders and jumping up and down, planting kisses on your cheeks and the side of your head and you could barely notice.

Because Bucky was looking at you.

The ref let go of his hand and he made a dash to get out of the ring and to you, shoving past Sam and Steve trying to congratulate him, completely ignoring the med team trying to lead him away to check his injuries.

You. You. You.

You met him halfway even though your knees felt like jello and your hands were shaking, you took his face into those shaky hands and pressed your forehead to his as his hands rested on your waist.

“You did it.”

“I did it.”

–

Luckily, Bucky didn’t have any major injuries. After some stitches and some compression wrap on his ribs and wrists, he was cleared to leave.

You just couldn’t believe it. One of his biggest fights to date and he was walking away almost unscathed.

It almost felt too good to be true.

Despite how tired everyone felt, this was cause for celebration. You all decided to retreat to your respective homes and get ready for a nice dinner, just the 8 of you.

“Bucky this place has a coconut blood orange margarita!” You said from the bedroom as Bucky continued to get ready in the ensuite bathroom. You were putting on your shoes while browsing the menu on Yelp. You could never visit a restaurant without checking the menu first.

“That sounds right up your alley, doll!”

“I know!”

Bucky emerged from the bathroom, looking as handsome as ever in his white button down and black slacks.

“Have as many of those as you want, sweetheart. Long as I get to take this” Bucky’s fingers ran along the fabric of your black dress, just simple cotton with a long slit coming up to almost your hip, “Pretty thing off of you when we get home.”

“You can do whatever you want to me when we get home, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky smiled, his large hands grabbing at your waist as his bottom lip made its way between his teeth.

“God, you are so beautiful, Mrs. Barnes.” He hummed.

“As are you, my love.”

“Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.”

“Always.”

–

Dinner was completely perfect. Nothing but laughter and jokes, bread being thrown across the table while the waiters weren’t looking and you and Wanda taking secret sips of Tony’s $200 champagne when he was in the bathroom or on a call.

Bucky was never not touching you. Whether it was a hand gripping your thigh or his arm around the back of your chair, his fingers gently tracing the length of your arm, or your hand in his.

And, God, was he radiant.

His smile was ear to ear. His top buttons on his shirt were undone, showing off his chest and you could absolutely just eat him up. It was like heaven hearing him laugh at some stupid joke Sam had made or when Steve would get flustered at Natasha’s flirting after she’d had a couple glasses of wine, or Sonya scolding Sam after an inappropriate joke. He even took a couple photos with fans who had just watched the fight, all of them ecstatic to take a photo with the Bucky Barnes with the scars from the fight still fresh on him.

You were both so happy even once you decided to get the check and wrap up dinner. You’d had 4 coconut blood orange margaritas, a celebratory shot of tequila and Tony had even been kind enough to let you have a glass of his fancy champagne.

“You deserve it after these past two weeks, gorgeous.”

Bucky had agreed. You stuck by him ferociously and put on the bravest face, even in the presence of Brock Rumlow, you stood tall. He was so proud of you.

You were trying not to trip over your own feet in your much too tall heels on the way out to the valet. You felt fuzzy and drunk but you still couldn’t shake the feeling of the valet watching you entirely too closely.

“Bucky that guy keeps staring.” You whispered and Bucky’s head whipped around, the valet turned his head immediately.

“You’re a diamond, sweetheart. People can’t take their eyes off of ya.”

You nodded and smiled, though you were still entirely too uneasy, and Bucky could tell.

“Car’s comin’ around soon, baby. I gotcha.” His grip tightened around your waist and he moved in front of you so his body was blocking yours, but you could still see him. He wasn’t looking at you, he was looking at Bucky.

Steve’s car had barely pulled up to the restaurant when it happened.

It was like everything happened in slow motion.

You saw the gun first, Bucky’s eyes were still on you.

“What were you thinking?” He sobbed.

But that’s just the thing, you weren’t thinking. There wasn’t one thought in your head besides Bucky as you ripped yourself from his arms and shielded his body with yours, and gave him not even a second to react before the sound of a gun rang.

The valet was tackled to the ground in seconds.

An angry fan of Rumlow’s, no doubt.

How Bucky’s security team didn’t catch on sooner was beyond you. He had security with him everywhere, though they stuck to the sidelines so as to not disturb. There were a lot of wild fans out there who got very angry very easily about the outcome of fights, and it just wasn’t safe to go out alone.

You were in shock, your hands clutched your stomach but you didn’t even register you had been shot as scarlet red liquid thick as syrup seeped through your black dress and into your fingers.

Bucky’s arms were around you in an instant as he lowered you to the ground. You could hear the commotion and panic of other restaurant patrons around you.

Blood was seeping into his white shirt. Your blood was seeping into his white shirt. He didn’t care. He couldn’t fucking care, not when the life was trickling out of you right before his eyes.

“Baby. Oh my god, oh my god.” Bucky was shaking, his voice thick with tears as he held you as close to him as he could.

“Somebody call 911!” Sam.

“I’m on it!” Tony.

Bucky wiped the hair from your face as his tears began to splotch on your face, he couldn’t bother wiping them.

Not when this could be his last time holding you.

You tried to close your eyes but Bucky tapped your cheek firmly. “Ya gotta keep your eyes open, sweetheart. Gotta stay with me, come on.”

You nodded, your head lulling to rest comfortably on Bucky’s chest as his body shook with the most vicious cries that had ever ripped through him. You continued to look at him, those pretty eyes that he adored so much looking up at him, but there was barely anything there.

“Bucky-”

“Save your energy, doll. Please. Ya gotta stay with me, okay?”

Your hand felt like heavy stone as you brought it up to hold Bucky’s face, weakly wiping his tears. “I love you.”

“No, no, no. Keep looking at me, baby. Keep lookin’ at me. Please.”

“So much.”

Bucky planted a kiss on your forehead as he continued to sob.

“I love you, doll. I love you so goddamn much that’s why you gotta stay, alright?”

He pulled away. “Here’s looking at you, kid. Remember? You remember, doll? Always.”

You didn’t respond.

Bucky screamed.

–

Hospitals are so fucking gross.

It was something you firmly believed in since you watched your great grandfather die in one when you were 14.

Full of dead, sick and dying people. Full of weeping family members and friends.

“Don’t let me fucking die in a hospital, Bucky, I swear to God.” You had said.

Bucky always laughed when you went on your rants about how much you hated hospitals. Talking loudly and waving your hands around in the air.

“I’ll never let you die in a hospital, sweetheart. Promise.”

And now here you were, lying in a hospital bed after 12 hours of surgery, hooked up to a heart monitor and Bucky thought how do you still look so impossibly beautiful?

It was just you and Bucky in the room. Tony, Wanda, Steve, Natasha, Sam, Sonya and their girls were all squished together in the waiting room. None of them had it in them to sit even an inch apart.

Not when they could lose you.

Bucky hadn’t cried in an hour. His eyes dry but still red and heavy, a headache that he was waiting to go away after a nurse gave him Tylenol booming in his temples. His blood stained shirt was discarded as soon as they wheeled you in for surgery. Steve gave him an extra T shirt stashed in his car.

He threw up in the bathroom while he was changing.

“You gotta wake up so you don’t die in a hospital, honey. Can’t have ya kickin’ my ass when I get to heaven for lettin’ that happen.”

The thought made his lip quiver. The doctors were hopeful after the surgery, but things don’t always go as planned. And he was fucking terrified.

“I’m gonna kick your ass for even letting them bring me to this awful place.” You mumbled.

The sound that came from Bucky had to have been embarrassing. Somewhere between a laugh and a sob as he stood up and immediately started fawning over you and pressed the nurse button to alert them you were awake.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He cried, his hands cupping your face and placing kisses all over your cheeks.

“I’m okay, Buck.”

“What were you thinking?” He sobbed, his face buried into your hair and you broke, wrapping your arms around his neck. The pain in your stomach didn’t even register because you just needed him closer.

“I wasn’t. I wasn’t thinking. I just- I saw the gun and he was gonna kill you Bucky.” “Don’t ever do that doll, not for me. God, please not for me.”

“I was so scared, Bucky. I didn’t wanna scare you but, I had- I had to tell you I loved you. I couldn’t leave this earth without telling you I loved you.”

“I know, baby. Just please, I can’t lose you. I can’t fuckin’ lose you.”

His whole body was shaking as he continued to hug you when the nurse came in. He awkwardly separated himself from you, his large body pushing itself off of the tiny bed.

She checked you over and ran a couple tests, and afterwards promised to go and alert your friends and allow them to come in.

While you waited to be bombarded by the people you called your family, Bucky had situated himself next to you in the bed, his arm around you, allowing you to put your weight onto him, and careful not to disturb your wound.

“Hey.” You whispered, bringing your hand up to hold his.

He looked down at you to find you already looking at him fondly.

“Here’s looking at you, kid.”

Bucky smiled, the most beautiful, genuine, sincere and heartstopping smile. He kissed you.

“Always.”

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marvelouslycaptivating · 1 year

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Thank you so much for the mention. It means so much 💕

NOVEMBER FIC RECS! — @dracosluvbot's fic recs

fics that i’ve been reading and obsessing with over the month of november

this is extremely important and i take this very seriously out of respect for the community. please do remember to read the rules for the respective blogs before interacting with or reading them.

F: fluff A: angst S: smut

𖥻 - series /multi part

BUCKY BARNES

F: seven-thirty by @nacho-bucky 𖥻 apart from the fleeting hellos, your first real interaction with 4B is when he's knocking on your door with a crying blonde in his arms.

F + A: hearts of steel by @invisibleanonymousmonsters 𖥻 being a princess, it is your duty to serve your kingdom and seek its best interests. there is no room nor time for a princess to love, nor is it proper for her to be in love with her knight.

F + A: for love by @moonbeambucky 𖥻 you are willing to do anything and everything for love. royal duties be damned.

F + A: my eyes by @invisibleanonymousmonsters 𖥻 golden boy captain steve rogers is a good man, a great man even. this doesn’t make bucky feel any less guilty for harbouring deep feelings for the captain’s girl.

F + A: three hundred by @adrinktostopyourthirst bucky's always been there for you as a friend, but what if you need him there for you in other ways

A: one step at a time by @tmpestuous you’re hurt after a difficult mission and nobody seems to know where you are. bucky is determined to find you, to find his love.

F: lumby and bunny by @sweetdreamsbuck 𖥻 lumberjack bucky is a big grump with a soft spot for his darling bunny

F: astrophile by @all1e23 𖥻 orion, or ori, as you had gotten to know her was by far your most adorable bookshop regular. when she has deemed you her very best friend, you get to know her firefighting father a little better.

F + A: swallow by @all1e23 𖥻 you're back in town for good, sparking chatters around the mc. truths are revealed and feelings that had always been there bubble.

F: cuddles & cocoa + part 2 by @sparklefics bucky felt like he didn't deserve you, not when you were a walking ray of sunshine.

F + A: we're fools by @achillieus 𖥻 you met bucky barnes on your first day of school while asking for directions. then again, at book club. and again, at debate club. he pushes your buttons and you push his back.

F + A: invisible string by @oitommothetease 𖥻 upon meeting the man who owned your building for the first time, he humiliated and declined your job interview. when he relents and finally gives you said job, you become his greatest weakness

F + A: better by @captainscanadian 𖥻 dr. james barnes grew up in an affluential neighbourhood with his dear family and friends. the same couldn't be said for you.

F: pick up & delivery by @sweetascanbee winnie barnes has been trying to pitch her usc braniac of a son to you for a while now and you’ve always narrowly dodged her advances. you are horrifically surprised one day when you get a delivery from her pizza shop.

F: café cream by @wonderlandmind4 𖥻 you were enjoying your daily coffee when bucky barnes came crashing through a window and landing in front of you, leaving a coffee spillage massacre. it seems almost habitual that every other encounter with him ends up with toppled coffee.

F + A: safe with me by @bitsandbobsandstuff 𖥻 you should've known better that investigating hydra would put a target on your back, that it would lead to a 100 year old super soldier breathing down your neck at all times.

F + A: sore spot by @kinanabinks bucky's offhand comment hurts you more than he thought it would. luckily, he's there to comfort you.

F + A: someone’s calling my name (and it sounds like you) by @mellowsaturns bucky is bleeding out on the quinjet floor as he professes he love to you, not knowing that you’re really there.

F + A: love at first grade by @buckysimp101 𖥻 to the media, you were a cold and cunning businesswoman. to anyone who had ever seen you interact with your daughter would see just how much of a loving mother you were. mr barnes, avery's teacher, seems to be one of the lucky ones who got the chance to.

F: winter canvas by @sebbytrash 𖥻 your professor tasked you and the rest of your class to draw a portrait of a stranger. great, because finding someone and having to ask if you could draw them was an easy feat. the cute jock you run into seems to solve all your problems though.

F + A: redcove harvest by @iwillbeinmynest 𖥻 james barnes had returned home for good after his last tour. he spots a flier requesting a farmhand for hire and decides to take up the job.

F: hearts and crafts by @world-of-aus it's valentine's day and love is in the air. well, as much as love can be in the air of a grade school classroom.

F: shop class by @marvel-fanfic-writer-8675 𖥻 mr. barnes is the workshop teacher and you teach culinary arts. your students are tired of the blatant pining, deciding to take matters into their own hands.

A + S: steel blue by @rassvetsky bucky gave up on you and your relationship, never giving you the chance or choice to fight for the two of you.

F: once upon a time + far, far away by @navybrat817 a glasses-clad and gorgeous beauty is your knight in shining...cardigan? as he saves you from an awful drunk on the subway.

F + A: two sides of the same coin by @anonymityisfunwriter 𖥻 you had spent your entire life in captivity, never seeing a wink of the outside world. sam wilson had been tasked to assimilate you back into society, and eventually become an avenger. bucky barnes is known to be a grump, appropriate for his age, and yet he has a soft spot for you.

F + A: under oath by @ugh-supersoldiers 𖥻 the state tries james barnes for his crimes as the winter soldier. thankfully, he has new york's best lawyer on his defense.

F + A: summer plans by @notimetoblog 𖥻 you and your best friend bucky come together to plan a summer holiday to the grand canyon. when bucky meets who he deems as the one, it threatens to come between not only those plans but your friendship with him.

F + A: the slip up by @justkending 𖥻 7 years ago, a one night stand gave you your greatest gift. aurora was your angel, excited to begin the first day of second grade which proved to be an eventful one for the both of you.

F + A: not me by @simsadventures 𖥻 your marriage with bucky had only ever felt miserable. when you've finally had enough, truths unfold and long-term secrets were revealed.

F + A: the diner by @bolontiku 𖥻 just six months ago, max had been left to your care. struggling between two jobs and raising a child could not be easy till james, a nice police officer, came along.

STEVE ROGERS + CHRIS EVANS

F + A: out of left field by @time-for-a-lullaby 𖥻 chris had been photographed sniffing snow in a compromising position. what else better to save his public image than to get into a fake relationship with one of the city’s most eligible bachelorette.

F: a swarm of butterflies by @marvelouslycaptivating 𖥻 from your first meeting, to your first date, and even today, steve never stops feeling butterflies in his belly when he’s with you.

F: his new partner by @star-spangled-steve 𖥻 yours and steve’s meet-cute was unconventional. you were screaming for your life while hanging off a while. luckily, captain america was there to save the day.

F: life is short so make it sweet by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork 𖥻 curtis was the one who had gave you and your 8th grade class a tour around his workplace. you run into him in a bar a while later, a relationship sprouting between the both of you.

F: bake off by @kaunis-sielu 𖥻 to rival against the largely popular stark bakery, you and clint team up with star spangled bakery to save both of your businesses.

F + A: you, always you by @imaginedreamwrite 𖥻 a decade can past and steve will always be the one you love. especially since he was a part of the most important thing in your life.

F: teacher, teacher by @kaunis-sielu 𖥻 mr rogers is in his first year of teaching, you, along with the rest of the faculty staff warmly welcome him to the school

A: the other woman by @epiphany-of-a-madwoman your relationship with steve means nothing in comparison to peggy carter.

A: everything he wanted by @navstuffs steve finally has everything he had ever wanted but it’s no longer what he ever wants.

F + A: can i call you her name? + no, you can't call me her name by @cherryblossom-heart captain america is the man you met, but steven rogers was the man you fell in love with. he, however, can’t say the same.

F + S: ethereal by @oh-my-damn 𖥻 steve rogers was the human emodiment of a golden retriever. who wouldn't fall for the charming and handsome avenger?

F + A: where would we be without the distance? by @nightowlwriting steve rogers does not like you one bit. he thinks you’re incompetent and a danger to him and his team.

SYVERSON

F: famous last words by @its--fandom--darling 𖥻 you meet sy in a bar on your birthday and the both of you have an instant connection

AARON HOTCHNER

F + A: how far we've come by @14buddy22 𖥻 you met the hotchner duo while vacationing in florida with your own three children. when you realise that you and aaron have more in common than you think, you and him teach each other how to move on.

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marvelouslycaptivating · 1 year

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ILLICIT AFFAIRS M.L

Illicit Affairs: Part 1

You and Harry have a secret affair.

Cherry Wine: Part 2

You never expected this to happen.

Hold On: Part 3

The aftermath of Harry finding you.

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marvelouslycaptivating · 1 year

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At First Sight

Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson X Reader

Summary: The God of Mischief discovers love at first sight.

Author’s Note: Here’s a little something I wrote for the God of Mischief, another favorite character of mine. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. There will be more Loki stories to come as I grow my blog. I also plan to write for a few of my other favorite characters and actors….so stay tuned. Don’t forget to like, leave your feedback in the comments, and REBLOG so that others can enjoy the story as well. Thank you all so much for your continued support. All my love. Xx

Odin was known far and wide for the celebrations he hosted on Asgard. He threw large, elaborate parties at least twice every quarter of the year. He often had delicacies of other lands shipped in. He had the sweetest wines selected from the cellar to keep his glass filled, and he always hired the best entertainment to keep his guests dancing late into the night. The king would sit upon his throne and overlook the large ballroom, a wide smile on his withered face as he basked in the joy of the moment.

Loki wasn’t particularly fond of these celebrations. He loathed dressing in his most uncomfortable, regal attire for hours on end. He detested the boring conversations he would have to hold with Kings and Generals from other lands. Most of all he despised the way the young women would feign interest in him in a desperate attempt to get close to Thor.

He didn’t attend these asinine events to please Odin, but more so to please his mother. Frigga was the person closest to him. She loved him for who he was, and he would forever be grateful for the affection she’d showered him with for the entirety of his life. She had crafted him into the great magician he was today. He would do anything to bring her joy, even if it meant attending a thousand dreadful balls.

So the God of Mischief found himself winding through the halls of the palace, a solemn look on his face as he headed toward the ballroom. Guards were posted at every corner. As he approached the ballroom the sound of laughter and music poured into the abandoned hallway. The party had only just begun, he hadn’t even stepped foot inside, and yet he was already exhausted.

He took a deep breath and smoothed his hands over his deep emerald suit before stepping away from the shadows and approaching the grand golden doors.

“Open the doors.” He ordered the guards posted on each side, running a hand through his raven curls.

They complied immediately, pulling the heavy doors open so that their Prince could enter the celebration. Loki stepped over the threshold and took a moment to glance around the room.

The tall ceilings were draped with glittering gold silks and beautiful white flowers. Lanterns were scattered around the room, bathing the space in a warm glow. In the center of the room was a large dance floor, beside it an orchestra of Asgard’s greatest musicians. A large banquet table filled with food was off to the side of the room, by the doors that led out into the courtyard.

The servants carried vases of wine and trays of delightful desserts, all of them dressed in elegant gold and white robes. Throngs of people were scattered about the room, lost in conversation. Laughter flitted through the air. A large group of guests floated around the dance floor as the orchestra played an energetic tune. At the back of the room on top of an elevated platform Odin sat on his golden throne overlooking his celebration.

Frigga stood dutifully by his side, the perfect picture of elegance and grace. The most wondrous Queen Asgard had ever known. She sipped a glass of wine leisurely and watched as Thor twirled Lady Sif around on the dance floor before them. A wide smile graced her face.

Loki swiped a glass of wine from a passing servant and began to head in the direction of his mother. He’d just turned and taken a step when his body collided with another, toppling the glass in his hands and spilling wine down the front of his suit.

“Watch where you’re going!” He boomed, anger immediately washing over him like a hurricane. He inspected the damage done to his jacket carefully. He used magic to dry the fabric in an instant.

“Watch where I’m going? It was you who ran into me!” You spat, bending down to retrieve the golden goblet from the marble floor.

“I beg your pardon? Do you know who I am?” He seethed, looking up from his suit. His eyes caught yours as you stood, goblet clutched in your delicate fingers.

It felt as though his heart had ceased beating that very moment. He was completely captivated by the stunning creature standing before him. The woman who had dared to speak to him in such a venomous tone. An outspoken, brave, bold woman.

Your skin glistened beneath the soft glow of the lantern filled ballroom, the shadows illuminating your sharp features perfectly. Your pastel pink dress swam elegantly over each delicious curve of your body. Your round cheeks were dusted with little gold flakes. Your brows furrowed in annoyance, lips pressed into a firm line.

He felt the anger leave him just as quickly as it had accumulated, receding like the tide. He was enraptured by the fire that blazed in your eyes. He was rendered breathless, and he was at a complete loss for words….which never happened.

“Of course I know who you are. You’re Loki, pompous Prince of Asgard.” You broke him from his trance. He blinked rapidly, unsure he’d heard you correctly.

“You’re just as rude as everyone deems you to be.” You spoke, lifting your chin triumphantly. You handed the empty goblet to a passing servant, thanking them politely before turning your attention back to Loki.

The anger Loki had felt moments ago was replaced by glimmering amusement. His signature smirk formed on his chapped lips, and his bright green eyes danced with mischief as he drank in every inch of you.

Women usually swooned over him. They clung to every word that tumbled from his lips. They spewed compliments his way, and never pointed out his arrogant behavior but you were different. You were quick to point out his attitude, and clearly didn’t put up with bullshit. It was refreshing.

“Pompous? If you aim to offend me you’re going to have to do better than that, my dear.” He smiled, taking a step closer to you. He ached to touch you, to pull you closer.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, “Trust me, if my goal was to offend you I certainly would.” You took a step back, trying to ignore the magnetic pull you felt between the two of you.

He stepped forward again. Your chests were brushing as he gazed down at you in the crowded ballroom. You tilted your head to look up into his Jade eyes. Intrigue swam just beneath the surface of his irises. He gazed at you as if you were the first woman he’d ever encountered in his life.

Your breathing quickened as he splayed his hand across your lower back, his touch searing your skin through the thin fabric of your dress. He crushed you into his chest. You could feel his heart drumming against his rib cage, the rhythm matching the erratic beating of your own.

“You’re a brave soul speaking to your Prince in such a manner.” He whispered, leaning close. His lips brushed the shell of your ear as he spoke causing a bolt of electricity to run down your spine in the most satisfying way.

You closed your eyes for a moment, basking in the warmth of his touch. Imagining what spending an evening with this bewitching man would be like. You let your brain wander for a few seconds before snapping your eyes open and looking up at his face. He was smirking, knowing the effect he was having on you. It was an act, a game. He just wanted you to comply.

“You’re not my Prince.” You spoke, voice laced with venom. You were from another land, but he didn’t know that. You placed your hands on his chest and shoved him away from you.

His brows furrowed and his jaw clenched as you turned and stormed away from him, not sparing him a second glance. He ran a hand through his hair, fighting the urge to follow you through the crowd of guests.

He took a moment to regain his composure. He took deep, steady breaths and tried to think of anything but the way your body felt pressed against his own.

His mind raced with thoughts. Who were you? Why were you so beguiling?? Why did he find himself longing to know every detail about you??? He didn’t even know your name.

He ran his hands over his face, and slipped on his best smile before heading over to his mother. He climbed the golden staircase that led to the platform and waltzed right over to Frigga.

“Mother, lovely decorations. You’ve out done yourself once again.” He complimented, shooting her a dazzling smile.

“Thank you my darling. You finally managed to make your way over to join us?” She questioned, opening her arms to embrace Loki.

“Yes, well I got a bit caught up.” He explained, as he took a seat beside his mother. Which wasn’t a lie. He was caught up thinking about a vexing woman who had ignited something peculiar deep within his soul.

Was this what love at first sight was like?? He’d heard stories about people who fell in love immediately, but he had always deemed it to be complete nonsense. He hadn’t even thought himself capable of love, but he couldn’t shake you from his mind.

He found himself scanning the room as Frigga rattled on about the party, looking for you amongst the swarms of guests. He wanted to speak with you again. He thought about asking you to dance or speaking with you in the courtyard. He thought about holding you in his arms and bringing his lips to yours in a gentle, passionate kiss.

He felt his heart clench painfully in his chest as his eyes combed over the ballroom for the fifth time. You were nowhere to be seen. He would never get to know you. He would never get to hear your laugh or hold your hand in his own. He felt disappointed to say the least, but he decided at that moment that what had transpired that evening had to be fate.

The God of Mischief had experienced a myth. Something so real that he would dream of it for years to come, and he knew that he had to find you. You were the woman he was meant to love, he was sure of it. He would search the realms far and wide until you were in his arms.

Maybe Odin’s celebrations weren’t so bad after all.

#loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki god of mischief #loki odinson #loki fluff #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson imagine #loki odinson imagine #loki odinson x reader #loki (marvel)#loki angst #loki of asgard

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marvelouslycaptivating · 1 year

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At First Sight: Part Seven

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson X Reader

Summary: Your father finds out about you and Loki

Author’s Note: Here is Part 7 for all of you that have been patiently waiting. Please reblog so others can read too!

Three days had passed since you and Loki spent the night researching in Frigga's chambers. Every moment since had been filled with joy. You'd stayed up well into the night and exchanged stories of your childhood. You'd snuck into the garden and danced beneath the light of the silver moon. You'd stolen kisses and laughed until your stomach hurt.

You had never felt more at peace in your existence, but you and your father were set to return home in just two days' time. The mere thought of leaving Loki behind filled you to the brim with dread. You knew you'd both be in immense torment if you left, and you needed to confront your father about remaining behind with your beloved.

You walked down the gilded hallways toward your father's chambers. It was early morning and sunlight streamed through the windows, warming your exposed arms and bringing a smile to your face. You could hear birds chirping just beyond the glass, and their sweet song eased your nerves slightly.

You approached your father's room rather quickly. The large door was closed, and you could hear him muttering to himself on the other side. You inhaled a deep breath and raised a shaky hand to knock on the weathered wood.

"Come in." his deep voice called. He sounded irritated. His normally gentle voice two octaves deeper.

You pushed the door open and stepped inside the large room. An oversized bed took up the right side of the room. A large window with long, billowing curtains was behind the bed. On the left side of the room there was a small sitting area, two cream-colored sofas were sat facing each other with a glass table between them. A large bookshelf sat behind the sitting area, overflowing with books.

Your father was sitting on one of the sofas, running a hand through his thick, grey hair. A stack of paperwork was laid out before him on the table. His brows were furrowed, his lips set into a thin line.

"Father." you called as you approached, your voice soft as not to startle him.

He looked up from his work to meet your eyes. Deep purple lined his under eyes, signaling that he hadn't had much sleep. His broad shoulders slumped in what seemed like defeat.

"Yes?" he questioned, eyebrows raising on his wrinkle lined forehead.

You cleared your throat and crossed the room, taking a seat on the sofa opposite of him. His dark, chocolate eyes followed you.

"Are you alright, father?" you asked cautiously, clasping your trembling palms together in your lap. You hoped your voice didn't give away how nervous you felt.

"No," he was quick to reply. His voice was gruff.

"Odin wishes for us to stand beside him in war." he growled, his eyes falling back down to the paperwork before him.

Your curiosity peaked at his words. Your people were a peaceful people and hadn't fought a war in hundreds of thousands of years.

"War?" you questioned, worry filling you.

"Yes, against Muspelheim." He seethed, his large hands clenching into tight fists.

You gasped and your heart began to beat ferociously in your chest. Muspelheim was the land of fire and ruled by ruthless demons. Your land was filled with farmers. Farmers with young families who were not well versed in the art of war. If your people were forced onto the battlefield they would surely be slaughtered.

"Does he know that we are but farmers?!" you spat, blood beginning to boil with rage at the Allfather.

Your father laughed. The sound was ominous and bitter. It reverberated off of the stone walls and transcended throughout the room. It sent unwelcome chills down your spine.

"Of course, he knows daughter. We have remained a peaceful people for quite some time now." he explained, rising to his feet.

"Then why would he ask us to fight?" you shrieked, throwing your hands up.

Your father turned away abruptly and stalked over to the large window, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Because Odin is a selfish man. If he believes that Muspelheim is a direct threat to Asgard he will stop at nothing to eliminate them, even if it means sacrificing thousands of innocent lives." He barked, pacing the marble floors.

Your mind swirled with the faces of your friends back at home. All of the people whose lives would be at risk.

"What will come of us if we say no?" You asked, rising from the sofa. You fiddled nervously with the silver bracelet on your wrist, it had once been your mother's. The action often brought you comfort in times of turmoil.

"If we refuse to comply, he will terminate our treaty of peace. Which will in turn make us the enemy, and we will lose the protection of the Asgardian army." Your father lowered his head in defeat. You could hear the emotion in his voice.

Without the protection of Asgard your land would be invaded by the other realms. Vanehiem was rich in recourses that many other realms did not possess. Either way your people would suffer.

"Who shall he have us send?" you bellowed, "we haven't any soldiers!"

Your father turned to face you; his dark eyes somber.

"The strongest man from each family. The strongest two from large families." He shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes.

Your eyes welled with tears. Sending all of those men would leave the realm to women and children. Women and children would not be able to tend their farms alone. The food would grow scarce, and the people would begin to starve.

A sob ripped itself from the depths of your chest. Your heart felt as though it was being pressed in a metal vice.

Your father crossed the room and took you into his large arms. He too would have to fight, leaving you to rule alone. You'd have to watch everyone suffer and be powerless to stop it.

"Come now, daughter. I have taught you to be stronger than this." You father whispered into your hair. His hands rubbed shaky circles across your shoulders.

"I am strong, yes, but no one should have to endure such a burden." You whimpered.

"I know, but we haven't a choice. Sometimes as rulers we are forced to do things, we do not desire." He stated, as if trying to convince himself. Your father had been in many battles, but since his rule began Vanehiem had lived in quiet peace.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to think of a better option.

"I can ask Loki to speak to Odin, maybe he can help!" You blurted, without thinking. You wished you could retract the words as soon as you'd said them. This was not how you wished your father to find out.

Your father stepped away roughly. The look on his face as cold as stone.

"Loki?" your father questioned. "The God of lies?" he spat.

You blinked rapidly, twisting your hands in front of you. You could feel the disdain radiating off of him in waves.

“What do you know of that demon?” Your father questioned, the veins in his neck bulging.

Your heart began to race and anger began to claw its way to the surface.

“He is not a demon!” You defended, “He is a wonderful man that is misunderstood.”

“Wonderful?!” Your father laughed. Your heart plummeted.

“Yes, he is wonderful. He is kind. He is brilliant.” You spoke, your passion shining through. You squared your shoulders and tried to look confident.

“You have been deceived, daughter. Loki is not to be trusted, and that is from the lips of Odin himself.” Your father stated, turning his back to you.

“Odin?!” You bellowed, “You would believe Odin, the man sending our people into a war that is not our own, over your own daughter?!” You spat. Your eyes began to fill with tears of rage.

“When it comes to this matter, yes. Odin has known Loki the entirety of his existence. You have known him a mere twelve days. I hadn’t even the slightest idea that you’d been spending time with him, if I had I would’ve sent you back home.” Your father explained. He paced the floor angrily, his boots slapping against the marble.

"Sent me home?!" You laughed incredulously, "I am not a child." You barked. Your anger finally bubbling over.

"Odin knows only of Loki what Loki allows him to see. Odin has never bothered to look beyond the surface. Odin knows nothing of the prince." You explained, chest heaving, and fists clenched.

"And what makes you think you do?" Your father questioned, abruptly spinning around to face you once more.

You took a deep breath and took a brave step forward. You would not let him intimidate you.

"He is my soulmate, the one to whom my heart belongs. I know him better than anyone else ever could." You spoke, tipping your chin up confidently.

Your fathers' brown eyes suddenly turned pitch black, raging like a storm. He no longer looked like the kind man you'd always known. He was unrecognizable.

He stepped forward grabbing your biceps harshly. It felt as though your bones were being crushed. His fingertips were sure to bruise your delicate skin.

"He is not your soulmate Y/N. Never utter those words again." He commanded, his voice was deep and the look in his eyes was feral.

You could feel your heartbeat quicken. You had never feared your father, but the look in his eyes terrified you to your very core.

You didn't let your fear deter you. You took a breath and looked into his eyes.

"He is my soul mate." you said definitively.

"Love at first sight is real...we have the proof. I love him and he loves me. I will allow nothing, not even you, to keep me from him." you stated, with as much conviction as you could muster.

He flung you to the marble floor with unbridled force. Your head smashed into the wall behind you, the sound of your skull hitting the marble resounded throughout the room. Your vision was blurry, and your head ached.

Your father towered over you. His hands shaking at his sides.

"I am going to find Odin to inform him that our treaty has come to an end. We will be departing Asgard immediately." Your father growled.

He turned away from you and began to stalk over to the door. You had to stop him. You had to let him know that he could not control you no matter how much force he exerted.

"No!!" you screamed, slowly standing from your spot on the floor. "I will not go with you." You defied, your head spinning.

You took a few shaky steps forward. Your stomach turning at the motion.

"You haven't a choice!" your father shouted, opening the door and stepping into the hallway. "Once we return home, I will have the healers make something to cure you from this infatuation. All will be well." he stated, slamming the large wooden door behind him.

You rushed forward as quickly as your wobbly legs would allow. You clutched at the golden doorknob and twisted it, only to find that your father had locked you inside.

A river of warm tears began to flow down your flushed cheeks. Your head was swimming, and your breathing was becoming labored. You were angry, afraid, in pain, and alone.

Your vison began to darken, and your head pounded. You reached your hand up to feel your head, and when you pulled it away it was covered in crimson.

Your fear intensified, and so you did all you could think of. You closed your eyes and thought of your prince. You desperately hoped that he would hear your silent pleas for help.

#loki x reader #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki god of mischief #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki layfeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x reader #loki angst #loki odinson #loki odinson x reader #loki of asgard #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #thor imagine

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marvelouslycaptivating · 2 years

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Hey! Hope you’re doing well. I just wanted to ask how often will you be releasing a new chapter of Saving an Old Flame? x :)

Hi!! I’m not really sure. I just write when I can find the time or inspiration. I have ADHD and OCD. I get distracted easily. I’m hoping to have Part Two finished in the next few days!

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marvelouslycaptivating · 2 years

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Saving an Old Flame: Part One

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: This is based off of a request by @imlolxd.

Authors Note: This wasn't really meant to be a series, but I got way too into it. So, I hope you guys enjoy part one! Please don't forget to like and re-blog so others can read!! My requests are open. If you have an idea, send it in! It may take me some time to get it done, but it'll get finished eventually. I'm currently writing for Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Loki, Chris Evans, Ransom Drysdale, Sebastian Stan, Tom Hiddleston, and Austin Butler.

"Y/N" a deep voice whispered in your ear. It sent chills down your spine in the most delightful way and pulled you from the depths of sleep.

Your heavy eyelids drifted open, and the first thing you saw was Steve Rogers hovering over you. His hair was a tousled mess, sweat clinging to the golden strands from his morning run. His eyes were bright, and a soft smile pulled at his pillowy lips. His biceps bulged as he easily held himself up above you.

The two of you had been dating for just over two years. You'd moved into his cozy, Brooklyn apartment six months ago, but you still weren't quite used to how beautiful he was first thing in the morning.

"Morning sweetheart." he cooed, leaning down to press a delicate kiss to your nose.

"Hi." you murmured with a sleepy smile. You sat up slowly letting the sheets pool around your waist, exposing your completely bare torso to the man before you.

The look in his eyes was feral and sent heat surging to your core.

He groaned as his eyes drifted down to your chest. He leaned in to press a kiss to your lips.

"You know I'd love to stay tangled up in bed with you all day, but we gotta get to the compound." He sighed as he pulled away from the kiss.

Your brows furrowed. It was the third Saturday of the month. You and Steve always had the third weekend of the month off.

"Why?" you asked, reaching up to brush your tangled hair from your eyes.

Steve huffed as he stood from the bed and made his way over to the bathroom.

"Some kind of emergency." he stated as he started the shower.

You slung your legs over the side of the king-sized bed and stood, stretching your arms overhead. You watched as Steve stripped off his shirt, the muscles in his back rippling as he tossed the sweaty fabric into the laundry hamper. Goosebumps erupted on your arms at the sight.

"It must be a big deal if they're calling us in on our day off." You stated as you stalked toward the bathroom.

"I guess." he shrugged as he stepped beneath the stream of hot water, leaving the glass shower door open for you.

You stepped in behind him, your mind swirling with ideas of what could possibly be so urgent.

The two of you arrived at the compound an hour later after a steamy shower and a cup of coffee. Steve was sporting a large, purple hickey right beneath his ear and you couldn't wipe the grin from your face.

You marched toward Conference Room A hand in hand. The hallways were silent and most of the lights were still off. As you approached your destination you spied Bucky walking from the opposite direction.

His hair was tied back away from his face and dark stubble covered his chin. His expression was as stern as always as he sipped coffee from his favorite mug.

"Mornin' lovebirds." he sighed as you grew nearer.

"Morning Barnes," you chirped, "Chipper as always, I see." you teased.

Steve chuckled beside you, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. Bucky glared at him over his mug.

"Yeah well, not all of us are so disgustingly jovial all the time." he explained as he lowered the mug. His signature smirk on his lips.

You rolled your eyes and reached for the heavy, wooden door to the conference room.

"You're annoyingly broody." you quipped over your shoulder and the dark haired super solider shrugged in response.

"Alright, alright. That's enough you two." Steve playfully chastised as the three of you entered the conference room. He knew you and Bucky had developed a fondness of teasing each other.

The rest of the team was already gathered in the spacious room. Natasha, Thor, and Bruce were engaged in conversation off to the side of the room. Wanda, Vision, and Sam were munching on the bagels that were displayed in the center of the large, round table. Tony stood alone at the front of the room arranging papers. He was dressed in a crisp, designer suit as always.

Steve pulled out a chair for you and you slid into it immediately reaching for a poppy seed bagel and Strawberry cream cheese. Steve took his seat beside you and Bucky sat across from the two of you.

"Good morning, guys." Steve smiled, reaching for a bagel of his own. He selected a plain one with blueberry cream cheese.

Three sets of eyes turned his way. Sam, Wanda, and Vision all offering their Captain a warm smile.

"Mornin' Cap." Sam chirped, his mouth full of food. Wanda's nose crinkled in disdain at the action. Vision offered him a napkin.

"Anybody know what this is about?" Steve asked, eyes flickering around the room, observing his team.

"Not a clue." Wanda stated, "We just received word from Friday this morning that we were needed for an urgent matter." She swept her red hair over her shoulder as Bruce, Thor, and Nat joined the rest of you at the table.

"Hmm." Steve's brows furrowed in thought. Absolutely no one knew why this meeting was called.

You reached over and patted his knee. You knew how anxious he became when he wasn't immediately presented with all of the information he needed for an "emergency situation".

"We'll find out soon enough, baby." You assured with a small smile.

Forty-five minutes later Nick Fury waltzed into the conference room. He made a beeline to the front of the room to stand next to Tony.

Tony cleared his throat and straightened his purple, paisley tie.

"Morning, Losers." Tony smiled, "I'm sorry to bother you all on a Saturday..." he continued shooting a glare at the side of Fury's head. "But apparently this was an urgent matter. So, without further ado I'll let Nicky here hijack this meeting."

"Thank you, Stark." Fury growled as Tony walked over to the table and took a seat with his team.

Fury took a few deep breaths before beginning his debrief.

"Two days ago, we received a distress signal from an agent that was deployed on an undercover mission. Hydra had uncovered her identity and she was deemed in imminent danger. They attempted to abduct the agent at our safehouse in Italy, that's when she sent the signal. We sent a team immediately to extract her." Fury explained.

"She has been recovered safely, but she holds valuable information. Information that could bring us closer to disbanding Hydra for good. They have already attempted a second abduction." Fury continued.

"So, what? You want us to baby sit a trained agent?" Tony scoffed, leaning back to throw his feet up onto the marble tabletop.

"Don't be ridiculous," Fury rolled his eyes, "I want you to work with her to eliminate the threat and take Hydra down. She has the information you need."

You looked over at Steve with furrowed brows. His eyes were filled with questions. Just as you opened your mouth to speak to him the door to conference room opened behind you.

The sound caused every head to swivel in that direction. Maria Hill stepped into the room first. Her hair was slicked back into a bun, and she carried a gun on her hip.

A woman entered behind her. Her head was cast down toward the floor, blonde hair falling around her face. She wore tactical gear that was covered in mud and blood spatters.

You could feel your heart rate rise as she looked up, her eyes immediately searching the room for your boyfriend.

The agent you'd be working with was none other than Sharon Carter.

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marvelouslycaptivating · 2 years

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Thank you so much @cevansgoatee 💕

A Swarm of Butterflies

Part two, Part three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part seven

Part One: An Accompanied Sunrise

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: Your first meeting with Steve Rogers elicits the fluttering of butterflies in your belly.

“Excuse me,” you spoke. Your voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” You asked, your voice sounding small in the open space. He offered a warm smile.

“Not at all.” He spoke, moving his arms to rest at his sides. He scooted over to make room for you.

,“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” You asked, breaking the silence between you. He turned his gaze back to the masterpiece appearing in the sky before you.

“It is. Since I was a kid I’ve loved getting up early and watching the colors change.” He replied.

He chuckled, the sound deep and melodious. “I know. I’m from here.” He replied turning his body to face you. “I’m Steve.” He introduced himself, extending his large hand between you.

“I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N” you blushed, placing your palm in his.

“Well Y/F/N Y/L/N, it was nice watching the sunrise with you.” He smiled.

He laughed, “Please call me Steve.” You crossed your arms over your chest and shot him a warm smile. “Alright, Steve.” You responded. His face lit up.

“I’ve got to head back to the compound, but I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner sometime?” He asked, his voice nervous. He reached a hand back behind his head to rub his neck.

“Oh, god. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to over step. Forget I asked.” He rushed out, waving a hand in dismissal in front of him.

“I’ll call you, Y/N.” He smiled, tucking the notebook back into his pocket.

“Looking forward to it, Steve.” You smiled. He turned and began to walk the opposite direction. He looked over his shoulder one last time and raised his hand in a small wave.

🦋

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marvelouslycaptivating · 2 years

Text

A Swarm of Butterflies

Masterlist

Part Seven: Morning Light

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: Steve leaves for a mission and you confess some big feelings.

Authors Note: Wow, it’s nice to be back. I’m sorry I was gone for so long. My life has been a chaotic mess the last year. I welcomed my 3rd child and opened a small business (that is not doing great and is taking most of my time.). I’m going through a bit of a self discovery journey, which sounds strange since I’m in my late 20’s. But I’ve realized I love writing and I wanna make it my career so I can support my family. If you have any suggestions let me know in the comments!

Thank you to everyone for the continued support. I hope you love it!! Reblog and share!! I’m also no logger doing tag lists as it takes so long…if you’d like updates on my work follow me and set it up to be notified any time I post!! Love you all. Xxx

**Three months later**

“Y/N” Steve whispered as he gave your shoulder a gentle shake. “Baby, I’ve gotta go.”

He shook you a few more times, a soft chuckle falling from his lips when you hardly stirred.

“Sweetheart, wake up.” He pleaded. His warm hands rubbing your bicep.

Slowly you forced your heavy eyelids open. Steve sat beside you on your bed. He was dressed in jeans and a navy t-shirt. His hair was damp and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“There’s my girl.” He cooed, moving his slender fingers to brush the hair away from your eyes.

You smiled sleepily and turned your head slightly to look at the clock on your bedside table. 6:04 AM.

He had always been an early riser, but it was his weekend off. Normally he spent the morning beside you in bed even if he was awake. He’d lay there and hold you in his arms until you decided to wake up.

“Steve, what are you doing up?” you asked, reaching out to take his hand in your own much smaller one.

He blew out a sigh and cast his eyes down to the duvet.

“I got a phone call an hour ago. It was Fury. I’ve gotta go.” He explained, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You groaned and squeezed your eyes closed. The two of you had planned to stay at inside and watch movies all weekend. He’d been extremely busy the last month and you hadn’t had much time to spend together.

“I know, doll.” He whispered, guilt lacing his tone. You knew he felt horribly.

You opened your eyes and sat up in bed. You scooted closer to him, reaching both hands up to run through his golden hair.

His gaze finally met your own. His blue eyes looked uncharacteristically dull. His brows were furrowed and little wrinkles formed on his forehead. He was afraid you’d be disappointed, and Steve hated disappointing people.

“It’s okay.” You reassured, “I’m sure the world needs you a little bit more than I do. I have to learn to share.” You chuckled.

He swallowed roughly and brought his hands up to stroke your arms.

“I know you were looking forward to this weekend.” He smiled sadly. “I was too. I’m sorry.” He apologized.

“Hey, it’s okay. We can have a movie night when you get back. I’ll even bake those brownies you love so much.” You promised, letting your hands fall from his hair and into your lap.

“I wish I didn’t have to go, but it’s a quick mission.” He assured, still feeling the need to explain himself.

You chuckled flinging the duvet off of your body and climbing out of bed to stand in front of the soldier.

“Stevie, it’s okay. Just make sure you come home to me.” You spoke, stepping between his legs and lacing your arms around his neck. Your warm breath fanned over his face.

He looked up at you through thick lashes. His hands moving to cup the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer.

“I’ll always come home to you, baby.” He promised, his voice soft.

Steve went on missions all the time. He would leave and be gone for a few days and then he’d come back. You were used to it. You knew it was his job and it had never bothered you before, but this time was different.

This time you had something you wanted to tell him. Something you’d been dying to say for months, but could never seem to find the courage to.

Suddenly standing in front of him in your bedroom as the sun began to peak over the horizon it seemed like the perfect time to confess.

“Steve..” you whispered, voice trembling slightly.

His brows furrowed as he looked at you with concern. He could see tears gathering in your eyes. He could feel your hands trembling behind his neck.

“What’s wrong, y/n/n?” He asked. He traced circles on your skin with his thumbs. He knew the small gesture would bring you some kind of comfort.

You cleared your throat which felt impossibly dry.

“Steve..there’s something I’ve been wanting to say for awhile now.” Your voice was all but a whisper.

He nodded as he gazed adoringly into your eyes. He was listening intently, his head tilted slightly to the side.

“I love you.” You swallowed thickly. “I am hopelessly, desperately, irrevocably in love with you Steven Grant Rogers and I’ve known that for a while now. Hell, I think I knew the moment we met.” You confessed with an emotional chuckle.

Steve stared at you with wide, tear filled eyes. His calloused fingertips clutched your thighs.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his own voice held the slightest tremble now.

You shook your head with a watery smile. You wanted to finish your thought before your sudden surge of courage dissipated into thin air.

“I’m not done.” You giggled, a few tears sliding down your rosy cheeks.

“You are the most remarkable human being I have ever met. You are all that is good in the world. You are kind, brave, and loyal. You are everything I strive to be. You are truly selfless, the pure definition of a good man. You are everything I have ever wished for.” You cooed, stroking your thumbs over the stubble on his cheeks.

You felt breathless. You desperately hoped he understood how much he meant to you. How special you thought he was. He deserved to know that.

Your heart was hammering in your chest and your legs felt like jello as you gazed down at him, awaiting his reaction.

A wide smile spread across his face, and he turned his head to kiss your palm. He stood slowly, his chest brushing your own. He brought his hands up to cup your cheeks.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N…you have no idea how long I’ve been dying to tell you the same thing.” He whispered, his cerulean eyes glimmering in the sunlight that was beginning to trickle through your bedroom curtains.

“You have no idea the depth of my love for you, doll.” He continued, “After Peggy I thought that I’d spend my life alone. I figured that I’d already had my great love, and that I was destined to spend the rest of my days protecting everyone else’s…but then one morning I ran into this girl at the park. The most beautiful creature I have ever in a hundred years laid eyes on, and I knew in that moment that you were my destiny. You are my greatest love. Of course I loved Peggy. She helped shape me into the man I am…the man I was meant to be, for you. The love I have for you is far deeper than anything else I’ve ever felt in my life. It’s terrifying and exhilarating. It takes my breath away, and I never want to live without that feeling.” His voice cracked slightly, his eyes watering.

A large tear fell down his right cheek and trickled down to his jawline. You let out a soft sob, unable to contain your emotions any longer.

“I’m in love with you Y/N, and I never want to spend a single moment without you by my side.” He confessed, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You wrapped your arms around his torso and looked up at him through hooded eyes. Tears still staining your flushed cheeks.

“Move in with me.” You commanded.

You watched his eyes widen slightly before a grin broke out over his plush, pink lips.

“As soon as I get home.” He chuckled without even a moments hesitation.

You reached up on your tippy toes and connected your chapped lips with his. Your lips slotted together perfectly. Your fingers reached up to tangle in his hair and his hands gripped your waist tightly.

You both poured every ounce of emotion you felt into that kiss as you stood in the beam of morning sunlight. Your stomach swirled and your heart pounded.

Steve pulled away too soon for your liking. A silly smile decorated his face and his cheeks were rosy. You moved your hands to rest on his chest. You could feel his thundering heartbeat beneath your fingertips.

“I’ve gotta go, doll.” He took a step back his hand reaching for yours.

The last thing you wanted was for him to leave, especially after you’d finally confessed the depth of your feelings.

“Okay.” You nodded, a sad smile on your face as tears clouded your vision once more.

He stepped closer taking your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked over your cheeks catching the tears that had begun to fall.

“Hey, none of that. I’ll be back in a few days. Then we’ll pack up all my stuff and I’ll be here with my girl all the time.” He reminded you.

You smiled and nodded, clutching his shirt in your hands.

He leaned in for another kiss. It was quick but it was his promise to you that he’d return.

“I love you.” He smiled as he stroked your hair.

“I love you too.” You leaned in for one more hug.

He stepped away and grabbed his bag, turning back to look at you over his shoulder as he reached for the door knob.

“Go back to bed, baby. I’ll be back before you know it.” He smiled, turning the knob and walking out into the dark hallway.

You sighed as the door closed and crawled back into bed, pulling the wrinkled duvet up to your chin.

You were sad that Steve had to go, but you were also over the moon that the man that you adored felt the same way. The sweet words he’d showered you with made you feel as though you were soaring, and you’d never been more proud.

So you closed your eyes and drifted back off to sleep with visions of a blue eyed super soldier dancing through your mind.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

#steve rogers imagine #chris evans #chris evans fluff #captain america x reader #captain america fanfiction #captain america #captain america imagine #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers story #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #marvel story #avengers imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #avengers x reader

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marvelouslycaptivating · 2 years

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So honored to be mentioned on my very first fic rec list. ❤️

Loki Fics Recommendations

Ello peeps, I'm still alive!!!!!! It's been a while. I wanted to take a moment to share some of my favourite Loki fics and blogs which are amazing. This is just a small sample of the many fics I enjoyed which I highly highly recommend so please check them and their authors out!

Navigation ~ a). S - series | OS - one shot | MS - mini series | D - drabble

b). × : on going | ° : completed

Please understand some of these lists contain content that is for readers 18+ and may contain themes that an individual could find triggering. Read the trigger warnings/tags! Be responsible for your own content consumption! Respect the writers' boundaries please!

° Chasing his heat(MS)

Flour follies(OS)

Family Fun Night(OS)

° Mission accomplished (MS)

Heavy(D) by @hopelessromanticspoonie

× A Dutiful Disaster(S) by @cake-writes

° Love in the Time of Uncertainty(S)

° HMBOMT(S)

What's your type (OS)

I'm yours(OS) by @lokisprettygirl

Anchor(OS)

The Hands that Holds You(part 2 to anchor) by @stjarnaloki

°Prince Charming(S)

× Love(MS) by @immersed-in-mischief

× Twisted love(S) @letstalkaboutshtufff

Wake up calls(OS)

drunken murmurs(OS)

Loki's lure(OS) by @sabine-leo

× Revenge is complicated(S) by @tricksterlokilaufeyson

° Ripped Apart(MS) @ffangirlingsince2001

T as in toxic(OS) by @emeraldiis

°Queen of my court/King of my heart(MS)

His Place in the world (OS) by @writings-of-my-own

° The river runs deep(MS) by @myoxisbroken

°Chance Meeting (MS)

Frost(OS) by @bunniesofsteel

Misunderstanding(OS) by @darkacademicfrom2021

×Betrothed(S) by @violette-hue

° Warrior(MS)

° Fake Fiance(MS)

° Asgardian heir(S)

by @devilbat

Sleepless (OS)

Dreamless (OS)[part 2 to sleepless] by @lokimostly

A Bit Longer(OS) @captnmarvcls

°At first Sight (S)@marvelouslycaptivating

Mischief Maker(MS) by @glxssylaufey

You ran away(OS)

Panic(ON)

Waffles and Marriage(OS) by @youlightmeupfinn

Understanding(OS) by @writingfics-passingtime

Show the writers some love <3

If you'd like me to remove your work, please comment.

Have a noice day/night

Bye✨💚

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marvelouslycaptivating · 2 years

Text

Right In Front Of Me

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 & KO / @thirteenisles

Relationship: Married; Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Summary: The only way he could rationally find a suitable wife was by removing love from the equation all together. Courtship was game of jumping through hoops he really did not want to play, and he was a Viscount. Surely there would be a father with a more than suitable daughter he could simply ask for your hand and get it. Or the one where your arranged marriage with Anthony Bridgerton isn’t a loving marriage… until it is.

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex. Mentioned loss of virginity. Period typical misogyny and gender roles. Major character injury. Men are dicks. Nightmares. Mentioned menstruation. Pregnancy.

Comments: Absolutely no one come for me for this. It’s not period accurate (tho neither is the show). We decided to take liberties and make it our own and we had fun writing it and that’s what counts. This ended up way longer then intended! And yes, I will be working on my legit WIPs soon because I’m SO close to being finished with this term!

Keep reading

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marvelouslycaptivating · 2 years

Text

Choice - Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Genre: angst? | friends to lovers

Warnings: my bad writing | GIF not mine | English is not my first language

Summary: You are the daughter of the Marquess of Queensberry, and have been a friend of the Bridgertons since birth. After your father allowed you to pursue your studies in France, you return to London to enter society. Upon receiving the news of your return from your father, Lady Bridgerton offers to look after you during this season. You are delighted to be reunited with your friends, confident that your past feelings for Anthony are now gone. But how true that is, you are soon to find out.

You were not nervous. Not at all. You were the epitome of calmness. That is why you could not stop toying with the ribbon around your wrist, or why you were tapping your foot on the marbled floor.

You were calm. Posed, elegant. A perfect lady.

It would have been nice if you could actually believe what you were so desperately trying to tell yourself. Your dear mama, bless her soul, would have fainted if she could have seen the mess you were making of your perfectly styled dress. But you were a lady, and you were calm.

And, most importantly, you were grateful that the butler had stayed silent. If anything, he just gave you a sympathetic look when you loudly gasped as he announced your arrival at the Bridgerton House.

There was no reason to be nervous, so you inhaled as much air as humanly possible, and stepped through the open door.

The first thing you saw was a flash of light blue, and before you could blink twice, Lady Bridgerton was in front of you, smiling fondly.

"My dearest Y/N," she said, holding both of your hands, "it brings me so much joy to see you after all of these years."

You breathed. This part was easy; it came to you like second nature to delicately wrap your arms around the woman who had been to you nothing less than a mother. "Lady Bridgerton, it is a pleasure to finally be here again."

"Now, dearest, you know you must call me Violet," she reminded you with the same sweet voice she used when you were a child, "we are family, after all."

You bowed your head.

Family. That is what the Bridgertons were to you. And speaking of, you could not help but notice the absence of all of them.

"Where is everyone?" you asked, looking around the room.

"I thought it best not to call them this morning until you arrived. I wanted it to be a surprise."

You nodded, taking a seat next to Lady Bridgerton. Everything was so familiar in this place, although most of your childhood was spent at Aubrey Hall, and you could not help but relax. You had loved your time in France, but returning home was a feeling so warm and overwhelming that it had managed to ease all of your nervousness for the upcoming season.

"I take France has been a lovely time?"

"Most wonderful. My tutors were incredibly patient with me and my studies proceeded well. Although, I must say I have missed you all."

The door opened with a loud bang and you saw Gregory and Hyacinth making their way inside the room, fighting over something you did not quite catch.

"Children! Where are your manners? You must be on your best behaviour in front of our guest," Lady Bridgerton said, amusement colouring her voice.

"Y/N!" both Hyacinth and Gregory shouted, immediately running to you. They had grown up so much in the three years you had been away, you could hardly believe that they were not the two little children of your memories.

You hugged them both, telling them how much you had missed them. Their shouts must have alerted the other Bridgertons because one by one they started filling the room. Benedict was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he noticed you, his younger siblings wrapped around you. Colin had wanted to share notions of his travels with you, seeming completely enraptured by your tales of France. Eloise could not stop asking you about your studies, what had you been reading, what did you think about modern political issues concerning women, and utterly expressing her frustration and envy at the fact that your father had allowed you to study while she was forced to go hunt for an eligible husband. Francesca was just as polite as you remembered and she made you promise to practice with her on the pianoforte.

In the middle of your reunion with the Bridgertons, you almost missed Anthony standing frozen at the door, disbelief written all over his face upon seeing you entertaining his siblings with your stories of France. When you noticed him, you shot him an amused smile.

"What is the meaning of this?" Anthony said looking at you and then at his mother. "Is it not custom anymore to inform first the head of the household of the arrival of a new guest?"

You laughed, hearing the amusement in his voice. You got up and walked towards Anthony, deciding once again that you were calm. Nothing was happening inside of you. Absolutely nothing.

"Hush now, brother," said Benedict.

Anthony met you halfway through the room and you lightly bowed your head. "My Lord," you said shooting him a playful glance, "I hope my unexpected arrival is not met with your disapproval."

"I guess forgiveness might still be granted," he sighed tilting his head to the side feigning annoyance. "With the right price, of course," he added.

Eloise groaned in the back, "you two are gross".

You could not help but laugh, "and what could possibly be that the Viscount wants from me?"

Anthony smiled at you. He was done joking, you could tell how happy and pleased he was to see you. You could have pointed out the small flip your heart did inside your chest, but you ignored it. It seemed there was a lot you were going to ignore when it came to Anthony Bridgerton.

"Why, but a hug." And before you realised it, you were between his arms, your head gently pressed to his chest. You could not help but inhale deeply, because you could ignore almost anything, but you certainly could not ignore how much you had missed him. And perhaps your heart was now pounding in your chest, perhaps your throat felt tighter and you could not quite well inhale enough air. Perhaps your stomach became an intricate knot and your skin was burning you alive. And perhaps you had been a fool, thinking that three years in France would have removed any feeling you might have possibly harboured for the Viscount, but when you took a step back nothing of what was going on inside you was showing on your face.

You were going to ignore it all. And perhaps, you were going to ignore how the Viscount's hand had brushed ever so lightly on the bare skin of your back when you pulled away. Perhaps, you were going to ignore the sharp intake of breath he took when you had rested your head on him. You were more than certain you were going to ignore how his fingers brushed your arms before falling back to his side.

Yes, you were going to ignore it all, for if there was one thing in this world you could not allow yourself to do, it was falling back in love with Anthony Bridgerton.

And so, you stayed calm.

***

The evening of your first ball since your return to England had finally come. Lady Danbury was hosting this ball to celebrate your reunion and your father had informed you earlier that day that the Queen would be attending. You supposed it should have come to no surprise considering that both women had been close with your mother, the late Marchioness.

“Maybe we can still find a way out of this dreadful situation.”

You turned around to look at Eloise wrestling with her dress and fidgeting around her gloves. You chuckled, “I am afraid one does not say no the Queen.”

“One could fake an illness or faint on the dance floor,” she muttered making Benedict laugh.

“Must you always be so much fun at every ball, sister?”

You shook your head and left the two Bridgertons arguing to themselves. To be completely honest, you were starting to feel nervous, and you regretted drinking that lemonade earlier. It was exhausting having to join meaningless conversations with men who had clearly no interest in your studies and with women who had too much interest in your private affairs.

“Lady Y/N, the Queen summons you.”

At last, the time had come. You made your way to where the Queen and Lady Danbury were standing, your heart sinking into your stomach. When you stood in front of the two women, you bowed deeply in sign of respect.

“My Queen, it is an honour to be back in England and in your presence,” you said with all the grace and sweetness your voice could manage. “Lady, Danbury, I am most grateful for the ball. Your kindness humbles me.”

The Queen smiled at you, and your worries disappeared. You had her favour still.

“Come, child. I want to hear everything about your trip.”

***

“I could not help but notice you are not dancing.”

You smiled, no need to turn around. You could have recognised that voice in the middle of a maze, at midnight, blindfolded. The way your chest would alight upon hearing that voice, the way the sound would carry its weight right into your heart and deep inside you, making you feel heavy and light at the same time, were all signs that you had learned to recognise with time.

“I am afraid I have not found anyone worthy of my time,” you replied.

You knew your mother would have wanted you to find a love match, or at the very least a comfortable marriage, but truth be told you were not looking for either. Your father had other plans for you when it came to marriage, and as for you, you swore off love years ago.

Anthony smiled at you, standing at your side. “I take you have not missed any of this?”

You looked around the room, at all those people dressed in fancy clothes, dancing and talking, some of them hoping to secure a future for themselves. You watched them from distance, as you have always done. The dynamics of society never really concerned you. Your father had made sure that you would be provided for well before your birth. Your life was secure in a way many of these people envied. You had no need for a husband, you had never really needed to fit in. The Queen had treated you like a protege since childhood, a favour to your mother. All you ever desired was to find your freedom and your place in the world. You had found the first, but you were far away from achieving the second.

“I suppose I have not, not really. I was never much of dancer,” you replied at last.

Anthony hummed and stepped in your line of vision, extending his hand towards you. “I remember differently from when we were children. Allow me to have this dance, Lady Y/N.”

And so, once again, you were a turmoil of emotions, desperately trying to tell yourself that you were imagining everything. You nodded your head, not really trusting your voice. Taking Anthony’s hand, you both stepped in the dance floor. His hand found its place in the centre of your back while the other held yours firmly.

“You are right, in a way,” you told him while spinning around the room. The way he would catch your body back to his was making it very difficult to concentrate on your steps. Your bodies were gravitating around each other, being pulled back together like a magnet.

Anthony cocked his head to the side, a curious glint in his eyes. You continued, “you are quite right, my Lord. We danced together a great deal in our youth. However, I never really enjoyed dancing, not even as a child, unless it was with you.”

You felt his grip on your back tighten and you could swear Anthony took a sharp intake of air. His hand was so firmly pressed against you that you soon found yourself dangerously close to him. The dancing pace had quickened and you were soon out of breath, yet you knew that the reason had little to do with the dancing itself. Anthony was silent, he was looking at you in the eyes, not allowing you to look anywhere but him. On the rare occasions that his eyes would move, it would be lower, and you had to fight the urge to whimper when you found him staring at your lips.

Breathing was becoming almost impossible. You had to get away from him. And really, you only had yourself to blame for the situation you were in. Three years spent in France trying to forget the very fact that your soul was consumed to its very core from the love you had for Anthony Bridgerton had not been sufficient enough. You had wasted all of your efforts and all it took was one dance. All of your talks of freedom, of independence, all was being washed away but the same feeling that caused you to flee.

You could not take it anymore, and so when the dance finally came to an end, you swiftly bowed to him and ran away in the most contained and gracious way you could manage. You did not stop when he called your name, nor when Eloise did the same. You had to get out of there because any minute spent around Anthony was another minute your heart would spend harbouring hopes of a future together. Hopes that you could not allow yourself to have. You were the only heir your father had, the family line was going to die with you. And so, your father had allowed the freedom and the independence you had always desired. As his only heir, you were to be Marchioness of Queensberry. But you could not marry or you would lose your title.

You could either marry Anthony Bridgerton and become his Viscountess or you could become the head of your own household and be Y/N, Marchioness of Queensberry.

Perhaps France had not been a far enough place for you to run to to get rid of these feelings. Although, you doubted there was a corner in this world you could go to where your soul did not long to be with Anthony, where your heart would ever stop loving him.

***

Dear Gentle Reader,

as I am sure you are aware, Lady Y/N of Queensberry has made her return to England and was present at yesterday night’s ball. For those of you who don’t remember, three years ago the young Marchioness left the country to pursue her studies in France. The reason behind such a decision is to most obscure, but not to this author. In fact, as the only heir of the Marquess of Queensberry, Lady Y/N has been schooled on matters of the estate, on top of the duties of a household. Nothing has been confirmed, but this author wonders whether certain traditions might finally come to an end and if indeed Lady Y/N is to become the new Marchioness. And now, dearest reader, I must inform you of what I am sure has been duly noted by many members of the ton. Lady Y/N, noted friend of the esteemed Bridgertons, was seen dancing with no one less than the Viscount himself. You must agree with me that the two did make quite the couple, and this author wonders if perhaps we are in the presence of what might very well be the most heartbreaking story of the season. Rest assured, dear reader, that I shall uncover the details.

Yours, Lady Whistledown

***

“Y/N? Are you listening to me?” Eloise was waving a hand in your face while you were all enjoying the sunshine in the park. You were lost in your own thoughts and had not heard a single word she said.

“I am sorry, Eloise, what were you saying?” You asked, shaking your head to get rid of your thoughts. It had been five days since the ball and you had managed to avoid Anthony with great success. Your father had joined you in London the day after the ball so you could assist him in his work. Focusing on your duties and responsibilities made it a lot easier to avoid Anthony but when the Bridgertons had asked you to join them for an afternoon stroll in the park you could not refuse. You finally had a chance to catch up with Daphne about her life and tried your best to avoid Anthony’s gaze.

“So, is it true what Lady Whistledown has written about you? You are to be Marchioness?” Eloise asked again.

You nodded, “indeed. Although, there is still much to learn before anything really happens.”

“That is quite lovely my dear,” Lady Bridgerton said with a small smile, although you couldn’t help but notice a hint of sadness in her eyes. “I cannot help but wonder what will happen when you finally find love.”

“Whatever do you mean, mother?” Benedict asked. You knew very well what Lady Bridgerton was asking and you finally understood the sadness you spotted in her eyes. She was worried about you.

“I cannot imagine many gentlemen who would marry a woman who is in charge of her own land,” Lady Bridgerton said.

“Then they would be a fool,” came Anthony’s reply. You forced yourself to not look at him in the eyes.

You sighed, “do not worry, Lady Bridgerton. I do not think it will pose any threat.” When you were met with confused looks, you continued explaining, “the conditions of my inheritance is that I will not marry. If I have to become Marchioness that shall be on my own and not through marriage.”

Lady Bridgerton gasped, “you cannot mean that. But what about love?”

You finally turned towards Anthony. He looked like someone had just punched all the air out of him. He opened his mouth to say something and then immediately closed it. He didn’t know what to say, but then again, what does one say when the person whom you have loved your entire life just told you they are never to be married?

“What about it? She’ll have something much better than that. She’ll have her independence,” replied Eloise.

“Yeah, I suppose I will,” you said sadly.

***

You were enjoying some lemonade, looking at all the people dancing. Throughout the years, when the other ladies where being taught how to dance gracefully and you were learning how to manage your estate, you had grown fond of being a spectator. You had learned how to recognise the look of true joy, to spot if a gentleman was interested in a young lady and if she had any feelings towards him. You had known from the very start that love would have no part in your life, so you learned how to live love through people.

Your father had been so scarred by the death of you beloved mama that he vowed you would never have to go through the same pain. And so, he had given you something many ladies wished for but could never have: your freedom. In return, you had given up love. You had set to France hoping to get rid of your feelings for the Viscount, wishing that distance could take them all away, so that you could become the Marchioness you were always meant to be. But now you knew how foolish you had been to even think that. Your feelings had resurfaced the moment your eyes met Anthony’s. They bursted into your heart and set it alight consuming you to your very core. And all was left behind was heartbreak and ashes.

“Is it true, then?”

You didn’t turn around, you already knew who it was. “Is what true, my Lord?”

“You are to be Marchioness?” Anthony asked you. This time you looked at him. His jaw was set, his posture rigid. Why did he look like he was the one in pain? And why did that make you feel hopeful?

“I am indeed, my Lord,” you answered him. You didn’t really know what he wanted you to say that he didn’t already know.

He nodded, “very well.” Then, he moved in front of you, just like he always used to do when he wanted to shield you from everyone else, the very same action that had always made you feel you were his and his alone. “May I have a last dance, Lady Y/N?”

You inhaled sharply. “My Lord?” You asked confused. Last dance? You had no idea what he meant by that. But Anthony offered you no explanation, he simply took your hand in the most delicate and loving way. Your heart melted, you did not care that it was probably inappropriate to take hold of a lady’s hand, all you cared about was the soft brush of his thumb against your skin. Everything inside you was burning. The world was empty but from him and you, and you were burning.

You started dancing. It was slow, it was intimate, it was painful. Every time he had to let you go, you could see the pain in his eyes. And every time you came back in his arms, he pulled you closer, like he never wanted to let you go. You felt Anthony’s hands gripping your waist, leaving a mark behind. You felt the heat through the fabric of your dress and you had never wished for the contact of his skin like you were now. Breathing was becoming a hard task.

“I guess this is why you never concerned yourself to dance with anyone else but me.” You were not expecting him to speak, nor to sound so broken.

You looked at him in the eyes, not even feeling offended at his slight accusation. “I dance only with you because you are the only one I want to dance with.”

He spun you around so that your back was firmly pressed to his chest. Then he lowered his head, and his lips brushed your ear ever so softly when he whispered “and why is that?”

Before you could turn around, the dance was over and Anthony was making his way out of the room. You were left there, breathing heavily, with your stomach scrunched in pain, empty and broken. Your father would be sad knowing that you had felt the pain of heartbreak long before you even knew what love was and that the very thing he had tried to shield you from was the thing that was already destroying you. But what your father could never figure out was that that pain, that crushing feeling of not being able to be with the person you loved, it was all worth it. Love was worth the pain, the burning. Anthony was worth every tear, every heartbreak because he was the person that had always cheered you up, the person you would go to whenever you were sad, the person who loved you dearly, of that you were now sure, and the person you had loved since you were old enough to know what love was.

He was worth the pain, he was worth more than your title. And so, you ran after him.

***

You found him on the terrace, his head lowered down, his shoulders visibly tense. He looked in pain and the sight broke your heart a little.

“Why did you say a last dance?” You announced yourself by asking him the question that had been plaguing you.

Anthony chuckled but there was no mirth in it. He shook his head, looking at the starry sky. “I cannot dance with you again.”

You took a step closer to him, “and why is that?”

Anthony rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed, turning around to face you. “Because it is too much of a torment. One that I cannot endure anymore.”

“I had no idea dancing with me would cause you so much torment, my Lord,” you said through a broken voice and tears that threaten to run down your face. “Rest assured, it is not my intention to hurt you any longer. You shall be free from your torment.”

“What are you implying?” His voice hardened, but whether it was from hurt or anger, you did not know. Anthony was now in front of you, his eyes frantically looking for yours.

You gulped, “I shall return to my estate in Scotland. I have no business in London seeing as I am in no need of a husband. You will never have to dance with me again.”

“You cannot do this.” Anthony grabbed your arm and you could no longer hold your tears. “You cannot leave again.”

You looked at his pleading eyes, at the fear that lied behind them, it was for you cause of immense pain. Perhaps this was the right thing to do. You came here to tell Anthony that you loved him, that your title meant nothing, and now you were in the middle of doing the opposite. It was for the best, you told yourself through the sobs. You could not disappoint your father. It did not matter that you would never know what it was like to be utterly and completely loved. It could not matter.

“Please,” Anthony whispered, “do not leave me again. These past three years have been so difficult, all I could think about was seeing you back here. Back with me.”

You shook your head, anger rising. “I do not understand. I thought I caused you torment?!”

Anthony squeezed your arm and rested his head on your shoulder, inhaling deeply. You felt his nose brush your neck and your heart skipped several beats. “It is the love I have for you that torments me so.”

“Anthony, I-“

“Y/N,” he spoke your name softly, hesitantly, almost scared. He said it so quietly and you were immediately drunk on the way it had sounded from his lips. “Being so close to you and not being able to kiss you,” his other hand now grabbed your waist, leaving hot marks on your skin, “to hug you, to make you mine in all the ways a man can make a woman his,” he continued, placing his lips to your ear and breathing in your scent, “it torments me. It is crushing my very soul.”

You were breathing hard, almost panting. Your head was hurting, you could not think. Everything around you was a blur and all that existed was the man who was gripping your waist as if you were the only anchor in the ocean that could save him. All you could feel was Anthony’s lips brushing against your skin, so close that you could feel little sparkles and yet so far from where you really wanted them. Your world was on fire, and Anthony had been the one to set it aflame.

“Anthony, please-”

“But I am a gentleman, and I cannot,” he said tearing himself away from you, “I will not take away your freedom, your title.”

You shook your head with vigour and this time it was you who grabbed his arm. “Don’t,” you whispered, “don’t take away my freedom by choosing for me.”

Anthony was refusing to meet your eyes so you tugged on his jacket, “I love you, Anthony Bridgerton. And I have done so since the very first time you asked me to dance with you.”

You were now crying. Silent sobs were shaking your body and your head was pounding so hard that you could hardly stand up. Anthony finally met your eyes and brushed away your tears. You smiled, wishing that you could show him how much he had always meant to you. But here you were, crying on the terrace and no idea on how to fix the situation you were in. You loved the Viscount, but did the Viscount love you?

“I do,” Anthony said, reading the silent question in your eyes. “I am tormented by my feelings for you, by the fear that I will be taking away from you much more than what I will be able to give you in return. But I love you, every day more than each passing one. With all of my heart, my soul is yours.”

And then he kissed you. Slowly, like you expected him to do. Because Anthony had always been careful with you, always making sure you were comfortable and happy with him. He had a way of touching you, almost as if he was touching a diamond, as if he wanted to worship you, cherish you. You kissed him back through your salty lips, anchoring yourself to him. His lips were soft and warm and you never wanted him to stop. You needed him to never stop.

You let out a small sigh, almost a moan, and it was all it took for Anthony to groan into your mouth and completely devour your very essence. He was everywhere, in your hair, on your waist, touching your back, caressing your face, pushing you closer and closer to him. He was consuming you, and you had no objection to it.

“Anthony,” you sighed while trying to breathe in as much air as you could. He was smiling at you, so bright and beautiful, and you could swear that in that moment there was no title, no duties to honour, just the love that you two shared.

You laughed, finally happy. “I choose you, Anthony Bridgerton.”

“What about your position?” He asked.

“I will deal with my Father when the time is due. For now,” you said resting your head on his shoulder, completely at peace, “for now, I choose you.”

Anthony kissed the top of your head and embraced you. The two of you stayed like this for a very long time, long enough for Benedict to find you, still embraced, still in love with each other, still so happy. You would both worry about the future tomorrow. Because you were determined to keep your position as Marchioness and marry the man you loved. You had made your choice and the world was going to respect it, one way or the other.

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