#i needed to remove all the endgame angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bonnibuckets · 1 year

Text

— always her pt.2 | lo’ak

(part 1 here)

pairings: gn! x lo'ak (x rotxo)

warnings: angst angst angst, violence

synopsis: as you started to get through your days easier with the help of rotxo— it all comes crumbling down by the same person who use to build you up.

wc: 1.8k+

note: this is an angsty end and lo’ak isn’t the end goal (rotxo is endgame)

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

Your heart broke watching lo'ak walk away, falling to your knees you cried into your hands as you struggled to breathe while hiccuping. You wished he had stayed, that he would've held you and told you that he loved you too but you knew better. You knew that was just a fantasy you had made up in your mind and that's what hurt the most, that you imagined a version of lo'ak that was completely fiction— something that would never exist.

—

You had cut off all communication with him since then and it ate you alive, daily it felt gut-wrenching and consuming to pretend nothing had happened. Crying in secret, hiding, avoiding, ignoring, it was too much for your heart to bear.

Others noticed the difference and you tried to play it off as that lo'ak was just hanging out with tsireya, which wasn't a lie just not telling the full truth. It was all too much, you wanted to follow your heart but you knew you needed to follow your brain. You tried so hard to hold yourself together and pretend to be okay, but you felt the mask slipping. You'd show up late or even skip out on dinner because you knew you'd see them both. You would avoid breathing lessons, fishing, ilu riding, and sometimes even sleep.

Everyone took notice but no one dared to say anything, until rotxo reached out.

—

It was late at night and you were alone under the stars at the edge of the beach. Playing in the sand as you sighed and laid down on your back feeling the cold comforting water and sand.

"What's wrong?" you immediately jumped up and turn to see where the voice belonged to. You relaxed as you recognized who it was— rotxo, a kind kid who was the opposite of his best friend ao'nung. You felt a little uncomfortable by his presence, but you didn't want to shoo him away. "What are you doing here?" you asked avoiding his question, "just wandering" he said and sat near you. You mentally cursed as now that he would be harder to get rid of, and you would have to have a conversation with him.

"You didn't answer my question" rotxo said crossing his legs, you mentally groaned and plastered your fake winning smile. "Nothing just needed some air" you half lied, he tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows. "Are you sure? You seem tense lately" he said cautiously. You started to feel a little annoyed by his statement because you knew that something was wrong, but you couldn't tell him— you barely even knew him, but you so desperately wanted to tell him everything.

"No, just girl stuff" you fake laughed touching his arm in hopes he would believe but he saw straight through. "I think it might be more" he said grabbing your hand. Your heart swelled as your emotions were beating against your chest, begging you to let them free. You let out a shaky breath— he was cracking your code within seconds and you were panicking.

"It's just...i'm worried" you said looking away and removing his hand. You thought if you faked a problem he would feed into it, so you could save your true feelings.

"You don't have to lie i'm here if you need someone in your corner" he smiled. You felt tears well in your eyes as your stomach was flipping. Your lips trembled and you shut your eyes tight as your emotions were seeping out right in front of rotxo. "You don't even know me!" you said angrily and turned your body away, "true but i have watched you" rotxo said then his face went red "i mean observing! No that's worse!" he said hiding his face in his hands.

You turned to him and let out a genuine laugh as he turned and peeked through his fingers. "I'm sorry that sounded weird" You smiled as your heart and barriers slowly and ever so slightly started to dissolve. "It's okay no need to explain" you said, as both of you looked as the moon illuminated the water.

—

A few days passed and you and rotxo started to become closer, you felt a real connection with him. It felt like he understood you and didn't judge you, and you could be who you were. Your heart was in tangles, torn between your old feelings and the newfound feelings for rotxo.

Until you saw something you wished you didn't with rotxo.

—

You and rotxo were laughing and walking along the beach talking about anything and everything. "And then he fell flat on his face!" you said giggling and rotxo held his stomach laughing. You both regained your breath and you looked up and your heart and stomach dropped, you clutched your stomach and covered your mouth.

You saw lo'ak and tsireya holding hands and walking in your direction. Your heart was racing and you felt nauseous and dizzy, you reached out to rotxo for support for your wobbly legs. You collapsed and he immediately caught you before you could make contact with the sand.

"Woah! Come on let's get you somewhere safe" he said worried and turned you around as your trembling figure held onto him.

What you both were unaware of at the time was the pair of eyes burning holes into your back.

—

You and rotxo had made it to your new hideout and you immediately fell to your knees and bawled your eyes out. You let everything go— every feeling that you have felt for the past three years came pouring out like an unrelentless tsunami. Your head was clouded with lo'ak and tsireya, and your heart hurt as you rocked yourself and rotxo held you tight in his arms.

He was clueless as to what started this but he didn't question it— he was more worried about trying to support and calm you down. He stroked your hair and softly shushed you as you held onto him, you hugged him tightly and cried into the crook of his neck, and rotxo held you even tighter and kissed your head.

You were trying to speak but your sobbing was making it difficult and it was frustrating you which made you cry even more. "It's okay just breathe don't worry" rotxo said rubbing circles on your back. You clung to him as you focused only on rotxo and breathing and slowly stopped crying hysterically.

He gently pulled you away to look at his face "Talk to me" he said and you see his eyes were glossy. You felt guilty, angry, and sad all at once and you tried to find the words but you couldn't so you just hugged rotxo. "I'm sorry" you said as he shook his head "Don't be".

"He's made a fool out of me rotxo" you said pulling away to look him in the eyes, "he's burned me" you said as you felt the sadness drying up and anger bubbling. "For once i'd like to burn him back" you said like venom seeping out your pores.

"Who?" "Lo'ak," you said clenching your jaw. "I'd been by his side this entire time hoping he'd notice me, hoping he'd love me, praying that he would see me, and all for what? For him to throw me away like i meant nothing!" you said balling your fists up. "I thought he cared, but he doesn't! He's taken my heart and stomped on it in front of me, and i was dumb enough to even give him my heart in the first place" you said holding your head down in shame.

"Then let's burn him" you looked up immediately "What?" you said confused, "you said he's burned you, so let's burn him back" he said holding your face. "Would he even care?" you said "He'll realize what he's lost" rotxo said rubbing your cheek with his thumb. "He'll learn to ever mess with an amazing, breathtaking, talented girl like you"

Your face went flush and you smiled softly "As much as i'd love to i have to burn him on my own" you said kissing his cheek "I'll be behind you supporting you" He smiled.

—

Another few days passed and you and rotxo became even closer. You and him were planning to try a 'kick' at each other, but slowly of course. He knew you still had unresolved feelings for lo'ak.

—

You entered your and lo'ak's old hideout, running your fingers along the walls— over the carvings and drawing accumulated over three years. Your heart yearned for those days, but you knew they were over— it was bittersweet. You heard footsteps and you immediately whipped around and your heart dropped as you saw who it was. Lo'ak stood at the entrance and you felt anger, sadness, guilt, grief, and relief all at once wash over you.

"What are you doing here," you said taking in a deep breath, "i could say the same thing" lo'ak said rising his eyebrows. You bit the inside of your cheek, your heart was begging you to hug him and be friends with him all over again but you knew better. You knew you needed space, you needed to stay away for the sake of yourself.

"Just looking, remembering" You trailed off and turned around looking at the ground and dryly chucking as the spot you were standing in was the exact stop lo'ak left you in not too long ago. "Well since you're here i wanted to talk to you" You felt your uncaring attitude slowly breaking.

"I just wanted to ask you about rotxo" Your eyes widened "i saw you guys together" Lo'ak was probing you— he wanted to know what rotxo meant to you. You licked your lips and turned around slowly "And why is that?" you said staring into his soul.

"Because..." lo'ak didn't want to admit seeing you with another guy at your side much like he use to be tore him apart. He was starting to understand your pain, but that was just the tip of the ice burg. "Because?" you asked and felt yourself slowly becoming angry— you feared where this conversation was going to go.

"Because i realized the feelings i repressed for you"

You felt your whole world shatter— it's ironic how you had previously wished and prayed to hear those words, but right at this moment they repulsed you. You saw red and were trembling as you marched over to him and punched him in the nose "fuck you!"

He fell on his ass "fuck!" he looked up at you shocked and you never felt so powerful in your life. "You're fucking pathetic" you spat at him before stepping over him.

He had risen to his feet and held his bleeding nose and backed up to where you were previously standing.

"I hope you and tsireya work out perfectly" You fake smiled before leaving him— leaving him feeling exactly how he left you those many days ago.

— [Fin]

taglist 🏷️: @d34ng3l @wekiamo @fanboyluvr @ellieshaze @sully-stick-together @gloryy-vs @catgogrrr @kyber4crystal @kairreeee @winkingface @starfrier @lov3-bby @itsokilovemetoo @eywaheardyou @loverswiftsblog @owaowaowawa @durinsnowxii @loaksbitch @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @die4niyahhh

152 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 2 years

Text

Clingy Love

Title: Clingy Love

Rating: Mature

Square filled for @mcukinkbingo: N3: Free Space - A/B/O

Square filled for @steverogersbingo: D3: Cooking/Food

Summary: You’ve got two clingy omegas.

Pairing: Omega!Stucky (implied) x Alpha!Reader (plus-sized)

Warnings: angst, clingy omegas, implied Stucky, polyamory, a/b/o, scenting, implied smut, cuddling & snuggling, hurt & comfort

A/N: For my story Steve and Bucky retired after Endgame. Sam is now Captain America. Everyone is still alive. Steve never left for Peggy.

A/N2: It was a struggle to turn both into omegas. They are natural alphas to me most of the time. I hope the requester likes it, though.

Words: 1,3+ k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

16.666 followers celebration masterlist

2022 MARVEL KINK BINGO masterlist

Steve Rogers Bingo masterlist

“Alpha,” Bucky immediately is by your side when you enter your shared apartment. “How was your day? Did you get the promotion? I bet you did,” he whimpers as you ignore him.

You had a long and stressful day at work. All you want to do is have a bubble bath and cuddle with your omegas. It’s just, you need some alone time first.

“ALPHA!” Steve happily makes his way toward you to wrap you in a hug. He tries to bury his face in your neck to inhale your scent, but you step away to place your bag on the ground and remove your coat. “How was your day? Did you get the promotion?”

“I already asked our alpha how their day was,” the brunette complains. He whines as Steve had the chance to scent you first. Bucky was antsy to show you the new table he built for your dining room and now, it seems that you ignore him.

“It was a long day,” you step toward Bucky to pat his chest. “My boss said he’ll tell me about their decision at the end of the week. I have a good chance to get the promotion, though.”

“You’ll get it, Y/N,” Bucky tries to scent you again, but you turn to walk toward the bedroom. “Alpha…”

“I’ll be right back. We can talk later,” making your way inside the bedroom, you yawn. You’re just too tired. “Just give me a minute.”

“Oh-okay,” the brunette sighs. He walks back toward the kitchen to check on the food he prepared for dinner. “Dinner will be ready soon, alpha.”

“Alpha,” Steve whines low in his throat. He wanted to show you the new picture he drew of you and Bucky. Now he doesn’t know if you even want to see it.

“Fuck, that’s good,” you enjoy the warm water, and the scented candles you lit. Your omegas bought them for you. Closing your eyes, you moan.

The warm water relaxes your sore muscles, and you are sure, you’ll be in a better mood when you leave the bathroom.

“Do you think alpha will like the food?” Bucky looks at the plates he placed on the table. Steve is busy lighting the candles as Bucky tries to hide he’s unsure about his place in your relationship at the moment.

“She will love it, Buck. You know how hungry our alpha gets after a hard day at work,” Steve sighs deeply. “I just hope she will like the dessert I made.”

“She’ll love it,” nodding to himself Bucky tries to assure Steve, and himself, that you love them. That you only had a bad day…

“How’s the food?” Bucky watches you poke the food he cooked for hours with your fork. You don’t feel well but try to at least eat a few bites. You know Bucky cooked all day and went for a grocery run only for you.

“Very good,” forcing a smile on your lips, you look at Bucky. He looks sad, but you’re a little dizzy, and so tired. Tonight, you are an awful alpha, and you know it.

“Bucky made it with love, only for you,” Steve scoots a little closer to nuzzle his nose in your hair. He purrs low in his throat, as Bucky mirrors his behavior. The brunette buries his face in your neck to inhale your scent deeply.

“Okay, that is enough,” you grumble. It’s hard to focus when your omegas try to get your attention. They are extra needy lately, clingy even. “I need some me-time. The food was good but I need sleep and all…”

“Alpha,” Bucky whimpers. His lower lip wobbles as you get up from the chair and leave your omegas in the dining room.

“Alpha,” Steve sniffles. He had hoped you’ll praise him for the dessert he made. And now, you didn’t even try it. “Bucky…”

“Stevie,” they get up from their chairs to soothe each other. Your omegas hug and try to scent each other. It’s not the same as scenting you, but I’ll do…for now.

“What if she doesn’t love us anymore?” Steve whispers.

“What if she never loved us?” Bucky sniffles. “I-I can’t Steve. I can’t lose her too. What if alpha rejects us?”

“Maybe we were bad omegas?” the blonde whispers. “What if we are not good enough for alpha?”

Over the next few days, you pulled away from your omegas. You’re stressed as you didn’t get the promotion. On top of all, you still feel sick, and their constant attention overwhelms you.

In the past, most of the men you met never showed interest.

Being a female alpha is not easy. Being a plus-sized female alpha is even worse.

“Alpha?” Steve and Bucky whine in front of your door once again. You locked yourself into your office to work in silence. Now your omegas whine for your attention and you cannot focus.

“I need to work, omegas,” you rub your tired eyes. “I’ll be there for you when I got more time. Just let me work. Maybe next time I’ll get the promotion.”

You can’t see the sad look in your omegas' eyes as they look at each other. That night, you will sleep at your office, too tired to go back to your shared bedroom.

Your omegas whine and whimper while holding each other in their arms.

Slowly they lost hope. If you don’t want them anymore. Where shall they go?

Who will love them? Who will make them feel like they belong in this world that isn’t theirs any longer? Only clinging to each other just isn’t enough to them...

“What a shitty day,” you plop down onto your plush sofa, huffing as silence greets you this time. “Steve? Bucky?”

“We are here,” his voice barely above a whisper Bucky walks into the living room. “I…no, we cooked. If you want some food. We will be in our rooms if you need us.”

“Bucky?” you frown as Steve only pokes his head in. “Stevie?”

“Uh-what Bucky said. We don’t want to bug you, alpha,” Steve swallows thickly as he turns to follow Bucky. They agreed on giving you time and space to think about your bond.

“Bug me…” you whisper as you must watch your omegas walk away from you. Your heart aches as you can hear them whine low in their throats. “No…fuck…”

“Bucky? Steve?” you silently open the door to Steve’s room. When you moved in together, you decided to make sure that all of you have your own room. Now your omegas are cuddling on Steve’s bed and you feel left out. “Omegas?”

“Alpha?” their heads immediately snap upward to look at you. “Y/N…alpha…”

“Why are you not in our room? I know I got home late again. Are you mad at me?”

“We thought you don’t want us anymore,” Bucky sniffles. “Stevie and I thought we should give you space. If we are not enough, please tell us so.”

“Oh my god!” whining you look at your omegas. “I-I’m just not to used to being in the middle of attention. You’re so affectionate and I got a little overwhelmed.”

“Alpha,” your omegas get up from the bed to crowd you. Bucky whimpers next to you. He needs to touch and scent you. Steve is no better. He longingly looks at you, hoping you’ll invite them to your bedroom.

“Can we go to our room?” you softly ask. “I was a terrible alpha lately. I was stressed and didn’t feel well. Please forgive me.”

“Alpha,” Bucky immediately picks you up in bridal style to run toward the bedroom with you in his arms. “My alpha.”

“Hey…wait!” Steve chases after Bucky. He doesn’t want to miss the chance to touch and scent you too…

“Much better,” you lie in the middle of your bed, watching your omegas sleep peacefully next to you. Steve lies to your left, and Bucky to your right.

You did more than scenting and cuddling. Tonight, you let your omegas take over control and worship their alpha in any way.

Smiling you watch over them. You’re tired, but you don’t want to miss seeing your omegas so relaxed and sated. “Good night. I love you. Both of you…”

Tags in reblog.

#Clingy Love #mcukinkbingo #steverogersbingo #steve rogers #bucky barnes #16.666 follower celebration #Omega!stucky x alpha!reader #a/b/o #omega!steve rogers #omega!bucky barnes #16.666 followers #16.666 followers celebration #plus!size reader #plus sized reader #female reader

280 notes · View notes

clanwarrior-tumbly · 2 years

Note

Mayhaps a Space Mark x Captain Reader?

So, you know the scene in Avengers: Endgame with Tony’s arm mangled from the Infinity Stones? I thought it’d be cool if the Captain had a thing similar to that, but less lethal, if that makes sense.

I was wondering if you could do something with the reader with serious ptsd from everything that happened, overworking themselves to the bone, realizing that the spot Mark yanked the crystal out had become infected or something. The reader has a horrible long and pulsing wound that goes up to their shoulder from having the crystal so long, and they knew it would scar, but this is so much worse, but they convince themselves they are fine, but then eventually Mark and the crew realize the reader is seriously hurt when the reader almost passes out in the hallway. Mark argues with the reader, telling them to just let him see, and they panic, knowing how he’ll react, but Mark finally pulls their sleeve up and finds the wound.

And stares. And stares, hearing CC scold the Captain and saying how they could have lost their arm to infection if they had left it like that much longer. He then shakily patches it up, not letting anyone else near it, because it was his responsibility. He did this to them.

Reader passes out sometime during all this, and when they wake up, Mark is at their bedside and won’t meet their eyes, bringing them water and shakily asking them what else they need, before the reader says his name and he just absolutely breaks down, sobbing, apologizing and crying.

Angst and comfort and pining and confessions please? 🥺❤️

'God, it’s worse than I imagined-’

“Ouch.”

Wincing as your fingers barely grazed against the pulsating wound, you stared at it in the bathroom mirror, wondering how you let it get this bad.

It all started when that damn crystal was ripped out of your flesh. You still remember how it was so painful you couldn’t even speak or cry out...you were just in total shock the whole time. And you obviously knew it was gonna scar, though it never gave you much trouble.

At least not until now, as it transformed into this horrid thing that trailed all the way up to your shoulder. The flesh looked like burnt muscle, with bluish blisters embedded in its mass.

Feeling your stomach lurch, you sucked in a breath and rolled your sleeve back down and put your gloves on.

You’ll deal with this later. You had other matters to attend to as captain. The duties didn’t stop just because the colony was getting set up.

Not only that, but you couldn’t tell Mark about this. Even after getting out of that messy timeloop, you never told him that he accidentally scarred your palm...and you definitely didn’t plan to show him what became of that scar.

He would be devastated.

And what about the rest of the crew if they found out and panicked?

That would be messy, and you hated messes. So you figured you’ll carry on as usual and see if your assistance was needed anywhere. Surely everyone was wondering where their trusty captain had run off to. It’s surprising that nobody’s spamming your messages yet..not even Mark.

But as you left the room and trekked down the corridor, your uniform suddenly felt unusually heavy. And you could feel your arm throbbing and your breaths becoming labored.

‘Maybe I just need to get this off..’ You figured, removing your helmet. However in doing so, the pain sharply swelled up and you hissed in agony, dropping the gear to the floor and startling a few nearby crewmembers--Celci included.

“Captain? You dropped this.” She frowned as she picked up the helmet and gave it back to you, though she noticed how exhausted you looked. “Cap? Is..everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m..I’m all good, CC. I just got butter fingers today.” With a tired smile, you tried taking it, though you nearly dropped it a second time and quietly cursed at yourself.

Now your sleeve was irritating the wound, and you itched it furiously.

“CC! Are you messing with the captain’s helmet?!”

You froze. ‘Oh shit..why now?’

He’s here, too.

“No, Mark.” The cryo lead huffed as she put the helmet down. “They have trouble carrying it, and..they don’t look so good either. Like they’re running a fever.”

Immediately, Mark’s glare vanished into a look of concern as he saw you sitting against the wall, and he knelt down. “Cap? Are you sick? Do you need anything?”

“N-No, no..I just..need a minute to rest my legs.” You tried staying calm, but it was failing with the anxiety welling up inside your chest. His staring didn’t help matters, either.

“Captain, don’t think I haven’t noticed. You’ve been working your tail off all day. And you’re sweating bullets. Maybe you should take off the jumpsuit-”

“No!”

He flinched at your shout, and even you seemed surprised as you shrunk back and clutched your arm. So much for trying to stay calm and not worrying anybody. “I mean..I..I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”

"What’s wrong with your arm?” Mark asked.

“Nothing.”

“...then why are you holding it like it’s broken?”

“Nothing is wrong with it, Mark.” The panic was starting to settle in as you scowled at him, wishing he would just drop the subject. “I-If you don’t stop asking, I’ll...I’ll...”

“You’ll what? Demerit me for being concerned about my captain’s well-being?!” Now he was growing irritated, too. “If nothing’s wrong, then can I see it?”

“.......”

“Captain-”

“You’re not gonna like what you find..” You finally muttered, realizing that you can’t stop him. He was too stubborn and concerned for his own good...and you knew it was only going to hurt him in the most painful way possible.

But you just sighed and looked away, closing your eyes as you felt Mark gently take your arm and roll up the sleeve a little bit.

That was more than enough to horrify him.

You expected him to react with disgust, though when you bravely opened your eyes, he was just staring at it. Even as he took off your glove and found the crystal-shaped scar in your hand, he didn’t show much of a reaction to that either.

His eyes only stared and stared...

“My god..what happened?!” Celci was shocked, but you were barely able to focus on her words.

Your blurring gaze remained on Mark as, with trembling hands, he dug up a roll of bandages from his pocket and wrapped them around your arm. He did it as gently as he could, ignoring the concerns of anybody who walked by and asked what happened to you.

They didn’t understand.

None of them would understand.

Because only he knew what caused this.

Because he did this to you.

His guilt only grew when you eventually lost consciousness right as he finished, and he was oddly stoic as he quietly ordered the medical team to get a stretcher, operators, and medications ready.

It was all he could do to keep himself from breaking down in front of them.

..............

Hours later you came to and woke up in a bed. You sat up a little, recognizing your surroundings as the medical bay built within the colony. It was definitely more spacious than the infirmary back on the Invincible II, with your own individual room.

As you took in the scents of clean chemicals, you realized you were just in your uniform pants and sleeveless white undershirt. You looked at the bandage on your arm, covering your wound from fingers to shoulder. It wasn’t hurting anymore, thank goodness.

Though..it left you thinking about Mark and wondering if he was doing alright.

Then as if a higher being from above heard you, the door opened and you saw your head engineer stumble in with a glass of water. His gaze was downcast, refusing to meet your eyes; not even as he shakily set the cup down on the small table (which also held flowers native to the planet and get-well-soon notes). A few water droplets spilled, but that was the least of your worries.

Instead you watched Mark as he sat in the chair by your bedside, his head still bowed. “M-Morning cap, can I...get you anything else?”

He was very much not alright.

His voice sounded so monotone, yet so broken at the same time.

This was exactly what you dreaded. So you tried to be gentle with your wording so he didn’t think you were upset with him.

“I’m okay, thank you Mar-”

But before you could finish saying his name..he broke down into tears, hands rubbing at his face as he sobbed quietly. “Wh-Why...Why didn’t you tell me...I..I did this to you?!”

“I didn’t want you to worry.” You frowned with guilt. “It’s my own fault for letting it get this bad. You have every right to be mad at me.”

“..h-how could I ever be mad at you when I’m the reason you got infected i-in the first place?” With a tearful voice he finally looked up at you, face tinted red and eyes puffy. “You didn’t give yourself that s-scar...i-it was my fault..”

Your heart broke further as he choked out those words. Those exact same words he said about the warp core..

Indeed, it was a traumatic experience for both of you. Especially for him, knowing he’s hurt you several times and tried blaming you for all the problems he caused..thinking you were betraying him and the universe and...

But he just sniffled and looked at you directly. “The doctors..brought down the swelling and removed those blisters. Th-They said your arm would still be functional. Might take a few days, though..”

“That’s still good news.” You nodded softly.

“Yeah. Celci was going on and on about how lucky you were..not to need an amputation. God, I..I-I can’t even imagine if that had to happen because of me.” He laughed tearfully, voice breaking into sobs again. “I-Imagine me screwing up that badly, huh? Wouldn’t that be funny?”

Shaking your head, you sat up more to hug him, unable to bear seeing him this upset. And you let him cry into your non-infected shoulder as you held him as tight as you could.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, [y/n].” He didn’t mean to say your actual name, but he was so crushed by the “what ifs” and felt this gut-wrenching heartache inside of him--the fear of losing you or being the reason you lost a limb eating him alive. In this moment, saying your name felt natural.

“It’s alright, Mark. I forgive you.” You patted his back. Even if you only had one good arm left, you’d still give the best hugs that you possibly could to this man.

“Y-You’d still forgive me if-?”

“Of course. Neither of us could’ve known it could infect me like this. And if I needed that procedure to save my life, then..that’s fine. I’ll learn to live with it. Besides, I could get myself a cool robot arm.”

You heard him laugh a little bit through his tears, his stubble tickling your skin. ‘At least he’s feeling better now.’ You sighed softly in relief as you stroked his hair absentmindedly.

He gazed at you tiredly, a smile on his lips; though he did something unexpected as he pulled you closer and rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed. You were flustered, but shut your eyes, too, holding onto each other for a few moments.

After some time Mark pulled away, taking your hands. “[Y/n], there’s something I’ve..been meaning to tell you.” He cleared his throat. ”I was so terrified to lose you, both today and in that wormhole-warp core fiasco. I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to say this, so I’m going to right now: I...may or may not have...f-feelings for you that you may or may not reciprocate...?” He murmured quietly, averting his gaze.

Even he sounded unsure of himself, thinking this was too unprofessional.

Maybe it wasn’t the right time, but he was so afraid that there wouldn’t be a “next time”. Anything could happen to him or you or the crew tomorrow or tonight...with all you’ve been through there’s been missed opportunities and no second chances for some things.

And this was a huge risk he was taking--a risk that could end with him being heartbroken and you never looking at him as anything but a head engineer.

Yet when he nervously looked up at you, all he could see was your warm smile, feeling your hands tighten around his.

And in that moment he found no reason to fear or doubt you anymore.

Because you felt the same.

#clanask #anonymous #iswm x reader #in space with markiplier x reader #iswm 2 x reader #space mark x reader #head engineer mark x reader #captain yn #angst #hurt/comfort

590 notes · View notes

harlequinromancing · 2 months

Text

Bergamot and Beans Ch1

AstarionxTav, Coffee/Tea Shop AU - set post endgame. First meetings, falling in love, eventual smut. (And a little angst!) No warnings apply.

WIP - subscribe on Ao3 or follow for more.

“You’re late,” Alfira said, removing her apron and levelling a disappointed look at Maeve.

“I know, I know!” Maeve huffed, throwing her satchel behind the counter and pulling an apron on. “I done got stuck talking to Master Sinclair, didn’t I? Y’know how he drones on in the evenings.”

Alfira strode away from the counter and picked up her lute, beginning to tune it.

“Maeve, you know I have no idea what any of these people are like, right?”

“I tell you about them all the time!” Maeve turned to Alfira with an exasperated look, pinning her wild red hair out of her face.

“Yes, but you know how you drone on.”

“Oh, shut it, you make me listen to every bloody detail of your life,’ she said, haphazardly clipping on her name tag.

“That’s because it’s far more interesting than boring old monks in a stuffy library… Oh. Wow…’ Alfira trailed off, looking over Maeve’s shoulder. She cleared her throat and continued. “You have customers, by the way.”

“Feck, sorry, okay, what can I–” Maeve turned to face the men behind the counter, plastering on a smile, and found herself momentarily dumbstruck by a strikingly beautiful elf. “…get you, gentlemen?” She hoped she had managed to brush it off as being flustered.

The more harried human of the pair spoke first, asking for a strong cup of coffee with a frightening amount of sugar. Maeve raised her eyebrows at his request - she pitied whoever had to spend time with this man after he consumed it.

“Sure thing, and what about yourself, sir?” Maeve said, turning back to the elf, stealing a moment to properly look at him. He was gorgeous, all perfect lines, and soft-looking hair. He reminded her of one of the marble statues she had studied years ago - the seductively handsome devils playing at being angels.

“Coffee isn’t really my drink.” He sounded almost bored, leaning against the counter, but there was a soft smile playing on his lips as he looked at Maeve. His red eyes seemed to stare straight into her, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear self-consciously. “Surely there’s something more… appetising?”

Well here at Bergamot and Beans we're known for our wide selection of teas! 23 flavours and counting,” Maeve said instinctively, gesturing to the shelves behind her.

Hell’s inferno, she thought, what a tosser I sound like.

“Elkazaran Breakfast’s the most popular,” she supplied, when he raised his eyebrows.

“Sure, why not?” he said, and looked almost… disappointed.

“Great, have a seat and I’ll get those ready. A copper each, thanks.”

They dropped the coins on the counter and Maeve turned away to prepare the drinks as Alfira started playing her set, the opening bars to Somebody’s Girl filling the shop.

When they were ready, she set them down in front of the two men, the human man thanking her far more graciously than a simple coffee delivery warranted. That, and his amusing order, earned the two of them what would be her only genuine smile of the night.

‘Enjoy! Let me know if you need anything else,’ she said, unintentionally directing it towards the pretty elf.

“Thank you, Eveaw,” he said with a smile, and far more warmth than she normally received from customers. She lingered for just a second, to savour the feeling, until two women walked in and signalled the start of the evening rush.

Maeve was already halfway back to the counter when she twigged to what he said. She looked down at her chest and read the name tag there: ‘MAEVE’.

It was upside down.

She muttered out a curse and tore it off, throwing it under the counter as she greeted the two women.

Several more people came in after, and by the time she had a break in service to come check on them, the men had already left. The coffee cup had been drained completely, but the lukewarm tea was almost entirely untouched.

Several hours later, Maeve pulled her hood closer around her face as she turned down a dark alleyway.

She stepped down a set of stairs to a basement door, and palmed a silver coin to a dwarven man sitting in front of it.

“Good to see you again, Morrigan,” he said in a low voice, opening the door for her. “You’ve got a nice crowd in there. Good luck tonight.”

“Thanks Darmund. Shan’t be needing it, if it’s anything like last week.”

Darmund laughed quietly, clapping her on the back as she passed through the door. The sound grew as she ventured deeper into the building, down another flight of stairs and through the twisting halls, until she emerged into a large, dark room filled with people and a smoky haze.

Lakrissa found her quickly, taking her cloak from her and ushering her to the edge of the ring.

“I like the new hair colour,” she said, twirling a lock of it around her finger, “the brown suits you.” She looked down at her fingertips, noticing the residue it had left there, and wiped it off on Maeve’s shoulder.

“Thanks. It’s only temporary. I figure now I’m making a wee name for myself, it might serve to be less recognisable down here.”

“Smart thinking. Now you're just another copper-a-dozen half-elf."

"Thanks," Maeve said dryly. "How's looking in the ring then?"

"Well, it sounds like you might finally have a challenge on your hands again, there’s a new fighter in your class with some real buzz. Betting’s against you, so you stand to profit if you win.”

Maeve tucked in the ends of her wrist wraps, flexing her hands to test the fit and watching her opponent do the same.

She looks strong, but slow, she thought.

Maeve was right - once she got in the ring and dodged a few pot shots, she was practically dancing around the other woman, teasing her and trying to goad her into a mistake.

One lapse and I’ll have her. It was almost too easy.

But then, through the haze over the other woman’s shoulder, Maeve spotted a flash of white hair across the room. Her eyes followed it, mind wandering to her interaction earlier that day.

There’s no way he’d be down here.

“Get your head in the game, Morrigan!” Lakrissa shouted from behind her. Maeve realised her distraction a moment too late as a fist connected with her jaw, hard .

Three evenings passed before Maeve saw the two men again at Bergamot and Beans.

“Not a fan of the Elkazaran Breakfast were you?” Maeve asked when they approached her.

“...What? Oh, uh, no, it was fine,” the elf said, taken aback. He wasn’t the first to be surprised by her sharp memory. “But nevertheless, I think I’m in the mood for something different today.”

“Of course, what tickles your fancy?” Maeve said with far more enthusiasm than required. She cringed internally as she listened to herself.

“You know what? Surprise me.”

His eyes travelled down to the side of her face, clearly catching the purpling bruise on her jaw. Maeve quickly turned her attention to the other man.

“And for yourself? Strong and sweet again?”

He was looking a jot less harried than the last time he was in, but still had an unmistakable air of disarray about him. Typical wizard.

“You remembered!” he said, brightening visibly. “Yes please.”

As they walked away, Maeve caught the beginning of their conversation.

“See Astarion, this is what a little loyalty gets you…”

Astarion. Maeve mouthed the name silently, filing it away for later. A pretty name for a pretty man.

This time, she double checked her name tag before delivering their drinks. Just as she had hoped, Astarion thanked her with extra emphasis on her proper name, so she risked a wink at him and earned a slight smirk back.

Returning to the counter, she kept an eye on the elf, watching for a reaction. He sipped his tea, looked decidedly unfazed, and continued his conversation with his very animated friend. Maeve didn’t see him touch the cup again.

Bugger.

Two nights later, right at the end of the evening, the bell above the door tinkled.

Maeve looked up from the book she’d been engrossed in for the last half hour to see Astarion again. But he was alone this time.

“The lemon green was a bust too then?” she asked, fatigue dulling her usual chipper work-voice.

“Not my favourite,” Astarion said with a chuckle, and she was struck again with that curiously intent stare of his.

“Keen to try something else then? A little more floral perhaps?”

“Dealer’s choice,” he said, waving his hands in her direction.

Maeve gestured for him to take a seat as he dropped a copper on the counter, and she turned to survey the shelves of tea.

She heard his footsteps a few seconds later than she anticipated, like he had lingered. Probably looking at my arse, she thought – he wouldn’t be the first.

Her fingers trailed across the jars of tea before settling on the jasmine. White flowers for white hair.

Maeve brewed two pots of it and when she turned to take one over to him, she jumped, surprised to see him sitting at the counter just a few seats down.

He appeared to be engrossed in a sheet of paper in front of him, a pair of gold reading glasses perched on his nose, but Maeve caught him smirk when she startled.

“Thank you, Maeve,” he said when she set the pot down, a hint of ritual to his speech.

“Yer welcome, Astarion,” she said, holding back a wee grin.

He paused in his movements, looking up at her with narrow eyes, like he might say something. But he breathed out a little ‘huh’ and his face softened again, his eyes still on her.

“You’ll want to pour that quick, it’s a delicate wee brew, the jasmine.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you from yours then,” he said.

“Of course,” Maeve said, and tapped her fingertips on the counter. “Enjoy.”

She returned to her own seat, pouring out a small cup and inhaling the sweet smell of it, watching him over the rim of her cup as she pretended to drink.

When Astarion tasted the brew, he made a face that could only mean “Meh.”

Maeve chuckled into her tea, and he looked over at her.

“Big fan of that one, are ye?” she asked.

“I’m starting to think tea’s not the drink for me either.”

“Don’t be silly, love. Just have to find the right one, don’t we?”

“Three down, twenty more to go,” he said, nodding at the shelves of tea.

“Hopefully it doesn’t take that many. I’ll have to go looking for some more options then!” she laughed.

“Gods forbid,” Astarion said, looking back at her with a slight smile. Maeve held his gaze for a moment, and when his eyes travelled back to her yellowing bruise, she looked back down at her book.

They sat in relative silence for several minutes, Astarion taking one sip for every 10 of hers, until Maeve slammed her book closed.

“What a feckin’ idiot!” she muttered, taking another drink of tea to calm her down. She noticed Astarion looking over at her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It couldn’t have come at a better time, actually. This report was threatening to put me to sleep for the first time in my life.”

Maeve snorted indelicately into her tea, and luckily he spared her a remark.

“What are you reading then? Who’s the fecking idiot ?” he asked, mimicking her accent with surprising skill.

“Elminster Aumar’s Extended History of Faerun - you’d think the bloody man had never left Baldur’s Gate, what with how much he’s made up. Doesn’t know a feckin’ thing about The Whalebones…” Maeve stopped herself before getting too far down that path. Alfira could pretend to listen tomorrow.

“Gods below, what convinced you to pick up that drivel?”

“Some silly bint working at Sundries. Gods, don’t get me started on her either.”

Astarion huffed a small laugh, looking away from her.

Maeve lifted the lid off her teapot, making a small noise of disappointment when she saw it was empty. Astarion slid his over without a word.

“You’re sure?” she asked.

“You’ll enjoy it far more than I will.”

Maeve poured herself a cup, took a sip, and made a face.

“And you expected me to like that one?” Astarion teased.

“Been in there too long, it’s turned bitter now,” she said, and glanced up at the clock. “... d’ya want to try something else? On me.”

“How could I turn down such a tempting offer?” he asked, leaning forward to place his chin on his hands.

“This time I am gonna make you choose something though,” she said, leaning across the counter towards him. “Sweet or spicy?”

“Well, I do like spicy food,” he said conspiratorially.

“I thought you might.”

Maeve prepared a single pot and set it on the counter between them.

“This one,” she said, holding out the open jar of tea to him, “is a divisive one. Technically a tisane, because it contains no tea leaves - but try telling the average punter that. Dark chocolate, chilli, and dates are what you’ll be smelling there.”

Astarion took a deep inhale of the scent, pulling a face that at least tried to appear receptive.

“Well it certainly sounds interesting if nothing else,” he said, and slid his cup over.

“That it is,” she said, making no move to pour. “And it needs a few minutes to really develop those flavours. So while we wait… Tell me, Astarion, what brings you in tonight? I suspect it’s not tea.”

“Well, Maeve . You remember Gale.”

“The wizard you been coming here with?” she asked, leaning against the counter towards him.

“The very same. He was terribly busy and insisted I come down so you wouldn’t forget about us. Something about maintaining our ‘customer loyalty’… Honestly I stopped listening after that. But… I suppose there are worse ways to spend an evening.”

“I suppose there are,” she said, letting a wry smile settle on her face. “And he doesn’t need to worry. Hard to forget someone who drinks coffee strong enough to kill me nan… Or a face like yours.”

Astarion huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “Does that one usually work for you?”

“More often than not,” she admitted, laughing as well. “Probably not as well as it does for you.”

He fixed her with a stare, his face unreadable. “You are perceptive, aren’t you?”

“My stock-in-trade.”

He held her eye for a long moment.

“Interesting.”

Maeve scoffed. “Ah, I’ve been called worse I suppose.”

Guessing that enough time had likely passed, she poured out a cup for each of them, and took a drink, enjoying the slight tingle of the chilli. He watched her the whole time, without reaching for his own.

“Go on then, it’s perfectly safe now.”

He took a sip, and this time he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.

“That one’s not bad, actually.”

“Aha!” Maeve exclaimed, slapping the counter. “We’re making progress! I’ll mark that one down in the maybe column.”

“You’re keeping score,” he said, levelling a playful look at her.

“Can you blame me? You’re a repeat customer even though I’ve not served you a single thing you’ve more than tolerated. How could I pass up an invitation like that? I will find something that you like,” she said, stabbing a finger down on the counter in emphasis.

“So you like a challenge, then?”

“It’s not even necessarily liking them … I just cannot abstain from them, no matter how hard I try.”

“I imagine that gets you into a fair bit of trouble.”

“You’ve no idea.”

“I may have some.”

Maeve narrowed her eyes, thoughts briefly flitting back to that flash of white she saw…

“Do you now? Surely not with the company you keep. How much trouble can you really get into when you’re with a wizard all the time?”

“He’d surprise you,” Astarion chuckled. “But I don’t spend all my waking hours with him. I still have time for… trouble .”

“And what kind of trouble is that?” Maeve asked, dropping her voice lower and leaning in towards him.

“Well,” he said, mirroring her actions, “there’s the usual excesses; drinking… debauchery… sex.”

He enunciated the last word clearly, staring into her eyes as he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers trailing along the edge of her jaw.

Maeve held his stare, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of an outward reaction, despite the momentary stutter of her heartbeat. He was clearly a practised hand at making people shiver.

“Does that one usually work for you?”

Astarion dipped his head, his shoulders shaking slightly as he stifled a laugh.

“It does, actually,” he said, looking back up at her. “And frankly, that gets rather boring. I quite like a challenge myself, as it turns out.”

“Well, Astarion, if you’ll indulge me in mine…” she trailed off, gesturing between them in invitation.

“Of course, Maeve. So what trouble are you getting yourself into, hmm?”

“Oh, nothing special. Burglary, larceny, affray.”

Astarion nodded his head seriously. He was hearing sarcasm that wasn’t there, just as she’d hoped.

Maeve glanced up at the clock again, and stood up straight - she should have closed up about ten minutes ago.

“Alright, I should probably lock up now. Unless you’d like to finish that?” she asked, nodding towards his abandoned cup.

“No no, don’t let me monopolise your time any further,” he said, rising to his feet and letting her lead him to the entrance. “Will you be alright getting home? There are some dangerous people lurking around the Gate, especially at this time of night.” His hand came up, as if to examine the bruise on her face, but then he seemed to think better of it.

“I’ll be quite alright, thank you dear,” she said, lingering at the open door, waiting. “Goodnight, Astarion.”

“Goodnight Maeve.”

He started away, and she locked the door behind him. She lent back on the closed door for a moment, quickly replaying the evening in her mind.

He’d certainly lived up to the little spark of interest that ignited when she first saw him.

Maeve strode back over to the counter, throwing her apron at it and necking the leftover tea, before tidying everything away and heading upstairs to her apartment.

Hope you've enjoyed the first chapter! Subscribe on Ao3 or follow for more.

#astarion x tav #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 author #ao3fic #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #fanfic #astarion love #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #bg3 au #astarion au #coffee shop au

8 notes · View notes

adabisworld · 2 years

Text

Stars to my moon

Genre: Soulmate Au! Idol Au! Angst;fluff;drama;romance, poly Au!

Pairing: ot7×f!OC

Summary: He took big strides, halting right in front of me as he bends to my eye level, causing me lean back a little. I could feel his breath fanning my face, looking into his eyes, I could see a storm of anger into them.

"We have been nothing but considerate of you and your feelings, while all you've given in return is rejection and cold shoulder since day one." He grits out.

when Selene's 22nd birthday doesn't go as she expected, her world turns upside down, making her resent her soulmates. Will she ever come to accept them in her life or will she continue to run away holding onto her past love?

word count: 3k (approx)

Chapter-1

It's been a month since my life turned upside down. Everything good in my life was taken from me by the universe. HE was taken from me. The days following our breakup were pretty hard. I tried to get him to change his mind about his stand but I couldn't succeed. He was pretty adamant about waiting for his soulmate now that we knew I wasn't the one.

Soulmates. A word I have grown to despise, the word that took the only thing I thought would be mine forever from me. It took away my dreams of a future with Eric, something I had since childhood, we both thought we would be endgame but guess not. Eric didn't seem much bothered by the fact that I wasn't the one. He removed himself from the equation of my life leaving me no choice but to accept. Even after he said we could still stay friends, I knew I won't be content by just staying friends, I wanted more. The last time we spoke he said we could be friends again one day when I have finally accepted the fact that we won't be together and moved on with my life and, to be honest, I don't see myself doing it. Eric is someone I would always hold in my heart even if I'm mad at him and speaking of my soulmate, well, I don't want anything to do with them, atleast not right now, not when I'm hurting so much.I don't know what I'll do or say.

The sound of my phone ringing brought me back to reality, I knew it was my mother asking about my well-being. I wasn't the only one the event took a toll on, my mother was hit pretty hard with the news of Eric not being my soulmate. She used to ship us since we were children, she had all kinds of dreams made up. I rolled my eyes as I reached for my phone placed on the coffee table.

"hola, mama!" I answered.

"Selene, baby, how are you?" my mother asked. She has been checking up on me every day since she heard the news.

"I'm good mama, I was just packing for my trip. how are you? are you sure you don't wanna come with?" I asked. Being a single mother she has always tried not to make me feel the lack of my father, so I always try to include her in my life as much as I can.

"Yes, mi hija, I'm sure. I know you need this trip. And if I go, who would look after the business?" she answered and she is right, this trip is a necessity for my mental health. Considering she is a contractual florist, her business has grown quite big this past decade.

"Do get me some gifts from your trip, okay?" she demanded.

"yes, I will. Take care mama. I have to finish packing, I have an early flight tomorrow." I said as I cut the call.

............I wake up to the sound of my alarm and get up to go to the bathroom to get fresh. As I take my clothes off, I steal a glance at my soul mark in the mirror. It's pretty, there is no denying it, if only it connected me to Eric. I sigh, trying to ignore the ache in my heart.

I step into the shower, the cold water washing down my nerves as my mind wanders off to the phenomenon of soulmates.

Soulmates came along before I was even born. On the person's 22nd birthday, a mark appears on their body, on the ring finger of males, whereas it can appear anywhere on the female's body. The marks glow when soulmates touch each other but only a kiss can connect their souls and seal their bond.

I turn off the shower and step out to get ready.

After an hour I'm waiting for my cab to pick me up as I read a text from my mom wishing me a safe flight.

Boarding my flight, I sigh as I take my seat in the first class. The flight is 14 hours long so I get comfortable, plugging in my headphones listening to Enrique Eglesias' discography. Eric loved his music, and I loved what Eric loved. The memories of our time together, our silly food fights, drunk steamy makeout sessions, sweet date nights, our first I love you's, our first time, deep talks, teasing each other during the family functions, started flooding my mind and I sniffled as I wiped the tears off my cheeks.

The sound of a throat clearing made me open my eyes as I looked up to the flight attendant asking if I wanted something.

"A glass of red wine and some fruits would be fine, Thank you. " I answered.

She nodded and went to the back.

After eating, I asked for a blanket and decided to get some sleep and give a break to my tired body.

The commotion at the exit makes me look up from my phone, as I was looking for the address of the hotel I will be staying at. The shuttering of cameras and the presence of the paparazzi make me realize that a celebrity must be coming. I go around to the back exit to avoid the commotion. I have always been fascinated by the Korean culture, I even enrolled myself in hangul learning class but Eric didn't seem to support the idea so I dropped out, but I can understand their language to an extent now. Eric thought if I wanted to learn an Asian language I should be learning of the place of my origin.

I'm a southasian girl who was adopted by a Spanish tourist. I don't remember the life before my adoption since I was only 1. Also I never really found my birthplace much intriguing as I did Korea. The respect, care and love these people show to each other has always fascinated me.

That's the reason why I chose the first place of my trip to be Korea. I don't know why, but I always wanted to learn about its culture.

A shoulder bumping into me makes me stumble back and my phone slips onto the floor, just as the plushie from the guy's hands falls.

"Mierda!" I curse as I bend down to pick up my phone only for my head to bump into his.

"Joder!" 'Aish!" the words fall from our lips at the same time. I open my eyes to see a face hiding behind a mask and a baseball cap looking back at me with his chocolate brown eyes. His soft eyes making me forget about my phone or the ache on my forehead. Our staring is interrupted when I feel his cold fingertips touching the part of my forehead where we bumped. A weird electric zap from his touch makes me fall back on my butt.

"Gwaenchaneuseyo?" he asks with worry in his eyes. I nod with wide eyes staring up at him as someone comes from behind, whispering something in his ear making the guy look back at me with apologetic eyes as he hands me my mobile and gets up to go back with the other guy, clutching his toy in his arms.

I get up, brushing off my jeans as I shake my head and move towards the exit. I give the taxi driver the address to the hotel and sit back looking out the window. The song playing on the radio catches my attention,

" Nice song, Whose the singer," I ask the driver.

"oh, singer? It's BTS, you know BTS?" he asks.

I shake my head as I reply, " No, I don't know about them but I do know of them."

" they're big in music." he tells me with a big proud smile on his face.

I nod, moving back to look out the window as my mind wanders off to the guy who ran into me at the airport.

who was that guy, I thought? his attire was pretty secretive for an airport look. And why was he even carrying a toy? maybe it was a gift for a child? is he a father? it could be for his nephew or niece? the toy was cute tho, white alpaca, with a comforting smile. how did a toy even have a comforting smile?

The driver's voice gets me out of my head as he tells me we've reached our destination. I get out and pay the driver, ready to check into my hotel and back to my slumber.

---------------------------------------------------

His body is shielded with his bodyguard's, as they walk ahead trying to dodge the cameras and screaming fans. They don't know how the news of their arrival got out since they were pretty careful about it. As he gets into the black van, taking his mask and cap off. Closing his eyes, he leans his head back on the seat. His mind wanders off to the girl he bumped at the airport as a smile takes over his features.

The voice of his member brings him back to reality.

"Jinnie Hyung!" Jimin says, the tone of his voice makes the elder look at him with question in his eyes.

"Your finger Hyung!" he exclaims with excitement, pointing at his fingers.

His words make Jin look down at his hand and his eyes widen in shock.

He knows what that means, the soul mark on his ring finger glowing.

It wasn't there when he got off the plane so he must have touched his soulmate at the airport. Maybe one of the fans? Or maybe the girl-

He holds his breath as the realization of that girl being his soulmate sinks in.

Jin has been waiting for his soulmate for 7 years now. Being 29 and without a soulmate took a toll on him, and just as he accepted the fact that maybe in his line of work there's not many chances of meeting his soulmate, she appeared. He looks at the star on his ring finger.

Her amber, almond-shaped eyes, there was something behind them so hypnotizing. The little mole beneath her eyes stood out on her wheatish complexion. She must be a tourist considering her language.

Was it French? No, It was Spanish I guess, Yes. She's from Spain? But she didn't look like a Spaniard. She could be Mexican too.

He shakes his head trying not to overthink. All he needs to do now is find her before she goes back. The giggling of the Maknaes reminds him that he's not alone. He looks at them,

" Already daydreaming Hyung? Do you know who they are?" Jungkook asks making him shake his head in reply.

"No, But I might have an idea"

"You'll find them Hyung, don't worry."

---------------------------------------------------

For my last night in Seoul, I thought about visiting the Han river once again. The calm and peace I get from this place is what I needed.

The past week here has taught me so much about the culture. This place, even after spending only a week, makes me want to stay here forever. The warmth I feel here, the welcoming nature of the people, makes me consider building a home here.

Having a home here with Eric wouldn't have been so bad. My hand goes to hold the star of my necklace as I think about him. My eyes looking up at the starry sky.

"here, you see that?" I say, pointing at a star in the vast sky. He shakes his head in reply.

"The brightest one baby, you see it? Its Sirius. It means glowing in Greek. A fitting description isn't it? It's the easiest to find since it's the brightest star in the sky, that's why it was well known among them " I tell him still looking at the sky. I hear a hmm in response. I look back at him just to find him already looking at me, I quirk an eyebrow in question.

" You know, your eyes shine when you talk about the universe. Talking about the moon and stars give you a different kind of happiness. And I love hearing you talking about them." He says in his fruity voice making my cheeks flush.

"So, did you think where you"ll be enrolling for your masters?" He asks changing the topic.

"Not yet; I was thinking about visiting Mom for a while, help out in the business, after finishing this last semester" I reply as I reach for the fruit across the blanket. Eric had planned the perfect date for us; a picnic under the starry sky. He organized everything; from lanterns to food. He even had rose petals scattered across the blanket. Sometimes I wonder how I got this lucky to have him by my side.

My train of thought breaks when I feel a tear slipping on my hand. I didn't even realize I was crying but it's not like I've done anything else since he broke up with me. I chuckle, wiping the tears off my face.

"um, Miss?" a voice comes from behind me. I turn around to see a man in a mask, standing there with a bicycle. Maybe wearing a mask is common here.

"yes?" I reply, does he need something? I think.

"Are you okay?" he asks with worried eyes. I don't even know this man and he is worrying over me. These people are too kind.

"Yes, of course. I just...remembered something." I say, not wanting to say the truth but not being able to lie either.

"Oh! bad memories?" He asks hesitantly, making me nod in reply.

"Do you want to talk about it? I mean it might make you feel better talking about it with a stranger nonetheless. Only if you want to of course." He says shrugging his shoulder.

"I..." I open my mouth to reject his offer of kindness but his soft, comforting eyes make me change my mind. What's the harm in telling a stranger I'm never gonna meet again?

"sure," I say, making his eyes squint; He must be smiling beneath the mask.

And so I tell him everything that happened this past month, about Eric. He listens attentively, nodding his head as if to say he understands. We walk down the path together; him holding his bike.

As I finish telling him about my misery, I notice he never tried to interrupt me or show any sign of judgment in his expressions. Only after listening to the whole story does he asks;

"And do you know who or where your soulmate is?" making me shake my head in return. "And you don't wanna find them? Give them a chance? I mean we're talking about a phenomenon here that binds the most compatible souls together, the people who are each other halves." again making me shake my head; "I WAS the most compatible with Eric, he not only knows about my life, he has lived it with me, witnessed it as I did with his, how could we not be soulmates I don't get it. I love him; he doesn't only hold a piece of it, he owns my whole heart, even if he doesn't want it anymore." My voice breaks as I tell him, "I cannot give someone something I don't own."

And I'm afraid of falling in love again. I thought in my head.

He nods; "Give it time, Everything will be alright." he assures me.

We walk in silence for a minute before he stops and says " It was nice meeting you..."

"Selene"

"It was nice meeting you Selene, I'm Namjoon. I hope you feel some weight lifted off your chest now. " He says with squinting eyes, again letting me know about the smile behind his mask.

"It was nice meeting you too, Namjoon. And I do, Thank you. Talking about it did help." I tell him with a grateful smile gracing my lips.

The chilly breeze from the river makes my flowy dress move as if it came to life, I swipe my fingers across my face moving the dark locks behind my ears, I catch a glimpse of the man standing in front of me with a strange look in his eyes.

I call for him making him blink, all thoughts forgotten he smiles, nodding, indicating it's time for us to part ways.

"Well, Get back safely, I hope you have a good time on the rest of the trip!" He says, waving his hand as he moves to get on his bike and riding away, leaving me looking after the trail he just left.

#bts angst #bts fluff #bts jimin #bts jin #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts suga #bts v #bts fanfic #bts romance #bts ot7 #bts j hope #bts #bts x reader #bts proof #bts poly #original character

76 notes · View notes

misshoneybee · 2 years

Text

⟣ 𝑌𝑂𝑈'𝑅𝐸 𝑀𝑌 𝐴𝐶𝐻𝐼𝐿𝐿𝐸𝑆 𝐻𝐸𝐸𝐿 ⟢

— 𝑋𝑉𝐼. 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝑊𝐻𝐸𝑁 𝐼’𝑀 𝐹𝐸𝐸𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐴𝐿𝑂𝑁𝐸, 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝑅𝐸𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐷 𝑀𝐸 𝑂𝐹 𝐻𝑂𝑀𝐸

Masterpost — OFC Biography — Playlists — Chapter XV — Chapter XVII

❧ Pairings | Post-Endgame!Bucky Barnes x Original Female Character, Previous Steve Rogers x Original Female Character

❧ Warnings | Mature content, explicit language, angst, hurt/comfort, soft!bucky, fluff, mutual pining.

❧ Wordcount | ~7k

❧ Disclaimer | Dividers are by firefly-graphics. If you are a minor, or do not have your age in your bio, and I catch you interacting with this, you will be blocked. If you believe you were blocked unfairly, send me an ask with your url.

Sweet dreams of holly and ribbon, Mistakes are forgiven ( Christmas Tree Farm )

December 2, 2024

It seemed like the passing of Halloween marked the point in the year when time began to move faster than Maggie realized. Anniversaries of moments that she’d rather forget came and went, spent in the dark solitude of her room. At least this year, she’d had the energy to drag herself out of it when morning came.

For some inexplicable reason, she’d expected the annual Thanksgiving celebration at the Stewarts’ apartment to be an awkward affair. She had seen the older couple only a few times since the month that she’d spent in their spare room and she’d felt like a nervous teenager again, waiting for them to answer the door as the cold glass of her pie plate froze her fingers.

Before she could even utter an apology for her absent nature over the past eleven months, Morris had taken the pumpkin pie from her hands in the nick of time, just before Maureen had her enveloped in a tight hug. She’d been the closest thing that Maggie had had to a mother since she was twenty-one; there was never even a small chance that the family would turn her away on the holiday.

It had been tearful, but Maggie had made it through, completing the day with her and Poppy’s annual sleepover that had been suspended for the past few years. They’d stayed up late, sharing half of a pie and watching bad Hallmark movies as they laughed until their stomachs hurt. She knew that her best friend was only trying to remove the sour taste from her mouth that the prior year’s holidays had left behind.

And it seemed as though it was working.

If time moved fast after Halloween, those few weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas came at warp speed. Suddenly, it was December and lights were up across the city. The Rockefeller Center tree had been flown in from somewhere in the Northern reaches of Vermont and decorated with lights and bulbs before being ceremoniously lit as it had every year for almost a century before—how bizarre it was to be reminded that Bucky and Steve had been alive to see the first one ever placed.

Now Steve was making up for all those he’d missed somewhere in the past, while Bucky remained in the present.

Unlike the massive white spruce that stood nearly a hundred feet tall in midtown, Maggie needed to be on the lookout for one that was a bit more modest and petite, something that could fit through her front door and in her living room easily. So, she’d ventured to a parking lot turned tree shop and dragged Bucky along for the adventure.

As a child, her family had always used an artificial tree, and by the time she had her own place, she’d never had time to get one for herself…or the desire, if truth be told. There’d been a fake one they’d used for the few years spent at the Compound upstate, but it had been lost to the battle and bombs. The year before, the leaves had barely turned when she and Steve had made their plan to drive somewhere further upstate in the mountains and find their own tree for their first Christmas together in the new place.

Obviously, they’d never gotten that chance.

Maybe they weren’t venturing into the wilderness just south of the Canadian border—they were still in Brooklyn, for god’s sake—but she was going to have a real Christmas tree, come hell or high water. As was typical of herself, she’d researched everything; the perfect stand, what a healthy tree looked like, the right size for the room, species that weren’t toxic to the curious Alpine that would undoubtedly inspect the room’s new foreign object.

If Maggie thought she was picky, for someone that she’d had to beg to come along, Bucky was far worse. Each tree that she’d pointed out, he’d managed to find some sort of flaw to deter her. Too many missing branches near the bottom, not enough needles so it looked naked, too short, bad shape, more brown than green—if he kept it up, she was going to inquire about a bartering system.

Could she trade her annoying neighbor for a cute, little fir tree?

There was only one row of trees left as she and Bucky perused the lot and she’d be damned if one of them wasn’t coming home with her, regardless of his opinion. Glued to his side, siphoning some of the body heat that radiated off of him as the cold air nipped at her nose, they slowly scrutinized each of the trees in a companionable silence.

It was frigid outside, and she had to be careful with each purposeful step in her heavy winter boots. The ground was icy from sleet that had landed on the pavement and frozen over that morning. Despite that, it had yet to snow and cover the city with the white, fluffy blanket that created a marshmallow world.

The first snow was always her favorite.

One winter, when Poppy had been stranded in South Korea due to a blizzard, she’d told Maggie about one of the country’s superstitions as they facetimed from across the world. It was a little silly, and it definitely hadn’t come true for her best friend, but supposedly whoever someone was with as the first snow of the season fell would become their lasting love.

She always thought it was a sweet superstition—far better than any of the American ones that she knew, like breaking a mirror and getting seven years of bad luck or being cursed by a black cat in your path.

She definitely preferred the happier ones.

Frowning, Maggie walked around the last few trees in their path. Most of them, tucked far away from street view, seemed to be the rejects—except one.

“This is the one.” Maggie’s words were firm as she circled the evergreen, eyes peeled for any obvious defects. The needles were a beautiful deep green; it reminded her of mixing several crayons to get the perfect verdant shade when they’d colored Christmas trees in elementary school. It had the picturesque shape where it tapered at the top and the refreshing, sharp and slightly sweet scent, that candles could rarely even compare to, tickled her nose.

It was perfect.

Though she didn’t need Bucky’s approval—she was buying the damn thing, with or without it—she couldn’t help but grin when she looked over. He nodded, impressed with the mighty fir as he checked how flexible its branches were and tugged at some of the hearty needles that stayed firmly attached to their shoots on the branch.

“This is the one.” Bucky agreed, chuckling as she did a little celebratory jig, careful not to bust her ass on the ice. “Stand guard over it so no one swipes it, I’ll get the guy.”

If she gave anyone who neared her, or the tree, a dirty look, it was no one’s business but hers and Douglas’s—the tree. Quickly, she’d paid for the annual totem to the holiday with an impossibly wide, excited grin. The worker had shaken the loose needles out of the branches and wrapped it before cutting the trunk a few inches and sending them on their merry way.

Thankfully, the lot was only two blocks from their building though she had a feeling that Bucky was only humoring her by allowing her to have a light hold on the greenery as he navigated the sidewalks.

Like a parent preparing for their newborn with a nursery, Maggie’s living room had been readied for her own new arrival—a seven-foot, sixty-pound thing that she had to keep alive for an entire month. Her feeling from their short walk down the street was confirmed when Bucky easily put the tree over his shoulder and made her go up the stairs first to open the door because she’d only slow him down if she insisted on helping carry the thing.

As Bucky gingerly placed the tree’s trunk in the stand that Maggie had already filled with water, Alpine yowled at the unfamiliar intrusion to his space and shot a suspicious look at the tree before bolting to Maggie’s room to hide under her bed.

“Can’t believe you’ve never had a live tree before.” Shaking his head, Bucky went to work unwrapping the tall thing as she quickly shed her layers of coats. Her apartment was far warmer than the frigid December, city air.

“While you were sleeping,” She poked with a little smile, rolling up the sleeves of her light sweater, “artificial ones became popular.” Giving him a little shrug, she began to unravel the long string of lights that she’d bought the day before. “They were easy, and you didn’t have to go find a new one every year—”

“But it takes all the fun out of picking them!” He protested before a fond smile replaced his expression as he mused aloud, “My dad and I used to pick ours out. We did it every year ’til he passed, then I took Rebecca. She always loved it, but I think she was really in it for the hot chocolate instead.”

“Rebecca?” Maggie’s head tilted just slightly as she handed him the string of lights that she’d wound into a spool, taking one end, and beginning the process of weaving them through the bottom branches as she watched him.

“My little sister.” He trailed behind Maggie, feeding her more of the strand as she needed it. The little smile on his face held a certain sorrow. Losing a parent was easy for her to understand but she’d never had that sibling-like bond before. “She was twelve years younger than me.”

“Did she…” Maggie trailed off, moving up the tree with each pass around of the lights, ensuring no spot was left unlit.

“I, uh,” Swallowing a lump in his throat, he gave a small shrug, “When I was in Wakanda, I asked Shuri to see if…she could find anything. Turns out, she’d passed a few years before that. In her sleep. Old age.” The chuckle that left him was sad as he mused quietly, “Sounded wrong, you know? When I left, she was barely a teenager, then she died from old age. I’d missed her whole damn life.”

Her hands stilled as she listened, absorbing some of the pain that he’d let out with his words. Just needing to reach out and touch him, she gave a gentle squeeze to his leg from where she kneeled on the ground, “I’m sorry, Bucky.”

“Her husband died a couple of years before she did, but they had a few kids. I saw the obituary.” He murmured with a sad smile, “Got married in ’53 and had two girls and a little boy.” There was almost a spark of pride in his eyes as he admitted with the barest hint of pride, “She named him James.”

“Do they still live around here?” At his nod, Maggie sat up straighter as the idea began to form; she couldn’t help it. She’d always been a ‘fixer.’ Excitedly, she began, “You should look them up, I’m sure—”

“I don’t even know if she told them about me.” Shaking his head, he added quietly, “And what if they do know? And they know who—” At her sharp look, he corrected, “what I did? Maybe they don’t want anything to do with me.”

“You’re the last thing they have of her.” Her eyes softened, “And they’re the last thing you have of her too. Just…think about it.”

At her pleading eyes, that he always seemed to have a problem saying no to, Bucky just nodded. It would be a lie if he said he’d never thought about it before. His little sister’s life had been boiled down to eight, black-and-white lines in the newspaper that Shuri had shown him, but he wanted to know everything—had she gone to school to study science like she’d wanted to when she was a kid? Or had she found a new dream? What had her life become without him?

He hoped that she’d been happy.

As they listened to the Christmas playlist that Maggie had turned on, citing that it was necessary to ‘create the right atmosphere,’ she finally finished stringing the lights on with his help once they got out of her reach. Flicking off the overhead switch and standing back, she plugged in the twinkle lights and suddenly the room was filled with a warm, yellow glow. Crossing her arms, she took a deep breath as she watched each tiny bulb flare and fade slowly.

“You know this is a fire hazard, right?” He asked dryly, peering down at the woman beside him.

“Bah humbug.” Maggie smacked his arm gently with the back of her hand. Rolling her eyes, she pointed out with a smile, “You’re technically the one that brought it up here so, you’re already an accessory if they call it arson.”

Chuckling, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and she returned her gaze to the apartment’s new centerpiece, impressed with its half-decorated magnificence.

The holidays were different now, marred by a certain sadness that she knew would hang around longer than it was welcome, but she’d come to find that that didn’t necessarily mean they were bad. Time would heal that wound too. So, she had to find new traditions—maybe she’d already found one. Dealing with Douglas had been far more work than buying a tree that she could shove in a bag after the season had ended, but it felt much more magical.

As Bucky tried to coax Alpine out from under her bed—he was Alpine’s favorite, so he was their best shot—Maggie went to the kitchen. Opening the cabinet, she spotted that old navy mug with the cat on it and hesitated. Instead of turning it around so she didn’t feel like it was staring at her, steeped in judgement, she gave the inanimate object a nostalgic half-smile before leaving it alone and selecting two other ones, gently closing the little, wooden door on it.

Before long, she had two mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies that she’d hidden from Bucky’s prying eyes that morning. He really had become something of a sugar fiend. It was a quirk that she thought was cute and she’d told him as much, ignoring his groaning about being a grown man and not ‘cute.’

Triumphantly cradling the furry white creature to his chest as he returned to the living room, he spotted Maggie staring out of the window beside the tree. It was times like this that he wished he had a camera on him, but his memory would have to do instead—she glowed with the warm light from beside her, the steam of her mug fogging up the cold window that separated them from the outdoors.

There was no tension in her shoulders as she leaned closer to see outside, her nose almost pressed to the glass, peeking upwards into the night. Small, white flakes had begun to descend from the dark gray sky, swirling through the air with the howling wind before settling on the black metal of her fire escape where the fresh snow had begun to accumulate.

Feeling his presence in the room, she peeked over her shoulder with a smile as warm as the cocoa and held out the second mug to him, “First snow of the season.”

Placing Alpine in the safe haven of his cat tree, Bucky accepted the mug as he stared outside with her. Holding her mug towards his, she murmured softly, “To Rebecca.”

The little wrinkles beside his eyes made a rare appearance at her toast and he clinked the ceramic against hers, agreeing softly, “To Rebecca.”

December 25, 2024

It was hard for Maggie to be sad on Christmas when she got to watch her goddaughter experience all of the excitement of the holiday firsthand. The Stark’s Manhattan apartment was filled with decorations like a winter wonderland. Presents and stockings and candy and cookies—it was like a child’s dream come true. Along with Rhodey and Happy, who was unhappily donning a Santa hat, she’d gone to visit Pepper and Morgan for lunch with too many gifts in tow.

No matter how content she was to watch Morgan rip into patterned wrapping paper and squeal in excitement at the variety of gifts, she still had to battle everything just to make it through the day. Last year, Maggie hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge it as she sequestered herself in the dark bedroom of the Stewarts’ home.

There was no goofy, gag gift from Natasha, or running away from Steve who’d chased her around the apartment with a sprig of fake mistletoe, or Tony who would waltz around with a Santa hat and bag of gifts slung over his shoulder as he handed them out one at a time.

They were all gone, and she’d been left with just those treasured memories.

After she’d been reintroduced to society following her self-isolation, Maggie had resumed her weekly dinners with Pepper and Morgan; they were still her family, after all, even if Tony was gone. The three had taken to trying a new midtown restaurant each week. While Morgan caught Maggie up on the dramatic inner workings of her first-grade class, she and Pepper typically discussed things regarding foundation since the older woman had stepped back into the ring after everything had transpired the previous fall.

Kneeling on the floor with Morgan, she was meant to be reading the instructions for one of the many games that the little girl had been gifted, but she couldn’t pay attention to the tiny words printed in black ink on the thin paper. Morgan’s face of concentration was fierce as she set up the board and pieces, insisting that the adults play with her. Sometimes it was like she could see her godfather in Morgan—almost too smart and always one step ahead of everyone else.

She missed him.

“Magpie?” Maggie had been too busy staring at her goddaughter that she hadn’t even registered Morgan saying her name, trying to get her attention. Raising an eyebrow, the young girl fiddled with one of the decks of cards that she’d placed on the game board as she quietly asked, “When is Steve coming back?”

The paper slipped from Maggie’s hands and fluttered to the floor as she heard the other three adults in the room fall silent at the question. The last time Morgan had said that name, she still couldn’t pronounce certain consonants, affectionately referring to the man as ‘Steeb.’ Maggie had always thought it was cute, but she didn’t think she’d hear that name, correct or incorrect pronunciation, when she woke that morning.

That numb tingling feeling like static electricity took up residence in her fingertips as she retrieved the fallen item. Like she had to double-check the question, Maggie asked softly, “What?”

“The TV said he’s on the moon.” Meeting her godmother’s eyes, the young Stark was curious as she asked, “But when is he coming home?”

Home.

That was a hard concept to pin down—for Steve, he was finally home. And so was she. As it happened, their homes just weren’t the in the same place or time anymore and that’s where the problem had lain. His home had always been seventy years in the past whilst hers was the present, following time in a straight line with one day after the other, ad nauseum.

Over Morgan’s head, she saw Pepper’s always poised shoulders droop just slightly at her daughter’s inquiry. A silent conversation with just the older women’s eyes was quickly exchanged; Pepper offered to step in and take the question off of her hands without questions, but Maggie gave the slightest shake of her head.

She could handle it.

“Oh…” Exhaling a sigh, she sat back on her bottom and crisscrossed her legs. Of course, Morgan would wonder where her godmother’s partner had disappeared to; the loss of her father had been difficult enough and perhaps it was foolish to believe the too-bright little girl wouldn’t notice someone else missing in her life as well. She’d known Steve since she was learning to walk; it wasn’t like she’d just forget someone who’d always been so present in her short life.

Maggie’s voice was gentle as she took the young girl’s small hand in her own, “Mo, he’s…not coming home. He’s—”

Cutting herself off, Maggie hesitated as she searched for a way to break the news to the little girl in a way that she’d understand. She didn’t even know where he was, or if he was still around in the present at all, but Morgan was only six. It wasn’t like she could explain the intricacies of time travel—something that she didn’t even understand herself at almost thirty-four—or the concept of death.

Though, perhaps that was an easier pill to swallow. She didn’t know how Pepper had explained the loss of Tony to her daughter, but Morgan had understood that he would never return home and, for all intents and purposes, neither would Steve.

Cautiously, her voice thick with tears that she didn’t permit to fall, Maggie explained simply with a pained smile, “He’s with your dad.”

“Oh.” Her voice was so tiny, and Maggie hadn’t realized how much more her heart could hurt. Pulling her goddaughter close, the hug was more for her own comfort than Morgan’s. She pressed a kiss to the top of her soft, mousy brown hair before the little girl’s eyes found hers. There was a small shred of hopefulness as she asked, “Do you think they’re together? I was scared he’d be lonely but if Steve’s there, then maybe he isn’t.”

Swallowing her tears, Maggie nodded and gave the occupants of the couch a weak smile as she whispered quietly, “You know what? I’m so sure they’re not lonely, especially since they have each other.”

The worst part of the season wasn’t the weather, it was the short tease of daylight that they received in the days leading up to and following the winter solstice. It was like the sun was already setting by the time noon came around. Returning home from her lunch, she’d dragged Bucky over for take-out and Christmas movies that she had insisted he’d enjoy; in all truthfulness, she just hadn’t wanted him to be alone.

And, for once, she didn’t want to be, either.

Lulling him into a false sense of security, she’d begun the marathon with Die Hard; maybe it wasn’t traditionally a Christmas film, but it still counted. She’d followed up with Christmas Vacation, a classic which had been her mom’s favorite, and as the credits rolled, Maggie had already started plotting her introduction to Elf. Humming the catchy Bing Crosby song that had gotten lodged in her brain from the movie, she watched as Bucky stood and crossed the apartment.

Grabbing something from the inside pocket of his leather jacket that he’d hung on one of the coat hooks by her door, she raised an amused eyebrow as he hid the little package behind his back. There was a glint in his eyes as he slowly approached.

Sitting up, she narrowed her eyes, “What is that?”

“What’s what?” Feigning innocence, he kept the thing hidden as he flopped back down on the couch beside her. Alpine gave a few disgruntled chirps as he scurried on to Bucky’s lap, ensuring the man wouldn’t move again and disturb his slumber.

Clarifying, she played along and gave an exaggerated sigh, “What’s behind your back?”

“Oh, this!” Finally revealing the small box, wrapped haphazardly in brown craft paper, and topped with a little adhesive bow, he grinned, “It’s your Christmas present.”

“Bucky!” She protested half-heartedly as he held out the offering, “Why—”

“It’s more for my peace of mind.” He defended with a shrug as she accepted it, brushing a finger over the plasticky, red bow. Slipping a finger under a folded flap of the paper, she gently pried the tape off, careful not to rip the paper as she unwrapped it.

Sitting the box on her lap, Maggie sat the top aside and an involuntary snort of a laugh was pulled from her. Nestled in the folded tissue paper, a shiny silver blade stared back at her, reflecting her face and the lights from the Christmas tree. The pewter hilt had deep engravings of twisted vines that wrapped around it up to the hilt. It was oddly beautiful for a weapon.

“You got me a knife?” Upon closer inspection, she noticed two, thick leather straps with a golden buckle tucked beneath it. Raising a brow, she picked it up, letting it dangle from her finger as she looked at him with a mischievous smile, “And a…thigh holster? Is this a kink thing?”

“You’re such a brat.” Shaking his head, he ran a hand through his short hair, watching as she picked up the heavy knife instead, carefully brushing a finger over it with a little smile. “I just wanted you to have something if you ever needed it.”

“It’s perfect, thank you.” Pressing a kiss to his cheek, the stubble scratching the soft skin of her lips, she stood and made her way to her closet, returning with a box of her own, “And that means…”

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” He protested, accepting the box with a peculiar look on his face. It had been quite some time since he’d received a Christmas gift—it wasn’t like they’d celebrated it much during the war and afterwards, it wasn’t like he’d had many opportunities to. It had been at least seventy years.

“I wanted to.” Maggie shrugged, tucking her legs under herself as she reclaimed her spot on the couch, excited for him to finally open it. She’d spent the last few months planning the gift and the box had been lying in wait for weeks. It was a miracle that she hadn’t spoiled the surprise.

Staring at the package, he looked at the little tag and chuckled when he spotted ‘From: Peach’ in her swirly script. Carefully keeping that piece of the wrapping intact, he opened it. His brow was furrowed as he looked at the little black piece of glass and metal, small enough to fit in his hand.

With a grin, she scooted closer and held down the little silver button on top, a white apple appearing on the screen, “It’s an iPod!” At his puzzled expression, she continued, “It plays music. I went ahead and put a bunch of stuff on it, so you didn’t have to add anything if you didn’t want to. It’s mostly forties music but there are some other playlists on there that I think you might like or maybe not, but—”

“I love it.” He cut off her nervous babbling and threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close enough to press a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Merry Christmas.”

“A very merry Christmas.” She agreed with a toothy grin.

December 31, 2024

For the second year in a row, Maggie laid in a bed as the last hours of the year ticked past. It was finally ending, the first full year without Natasha or Tony or Steve, and she was going in to the next without them again. None of them had gotten to see the aftermath of their sacrifice and it still felt unfair.

She had to wonder if ringing in a new year would always be so difficult; maybe it was because the day reminded her so much of Steve. Their first kiss, at Natasha’s urging, had been six years ago to the day. The second had followed three hundred and sixty-five later, and then their story had really begun.

Year after year, it had always been them as the parties got smaller and they grew closer—at some point, it had unofficially become their day, in her mind. It felt sacred, in a way. Would she ever stop wondering if he felt the same? Had he thought of her every time he’d heard the countdown to a new year? Or had he put it out of his mind when he began his new life?

When Bucky had called earlier, asking if she wanted to ring the new year in with a ‘bang,’ she was grateful that she didn’t need to lie to have an excuse not to. Her period had arrived with a vengeance a few days earlier, so it wasn’t only the depression that had kept her in bed over the holiday. Curled into a ball, the heated blanket that she’d cocooned herself in was one of the only things that brought any relief to the pain radiating from low in her abdomen.

Half-asleep, she jumped as a knock came from the living room door. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she searched the comforter for her phone and checked the time, squinting as the bright homescreen lit up with a picture of Alpine. It was barely nine. God, she was getting old.

Cringing in pain as she dragged herself out of bed, she took a breath before slowly making her way to the door, hoping the visitor would be gone by the time she reached it. Looking through the peephole, she saw the distorted sight of Bucky through the fisheye lens, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited for her answer.

There was no use in ignoring it; he knew she was home. Undoing the locks, her expression was flat as she opened the door. For once, she really wasn’t in the mood for anything, and she looked the part. Clad in loose sweatpants and a sweater with no makeup and several pimples forming a mountain range on her chin, she frowned and shifted uncomfortably as he looked at her, “What are you doing here? I told you, I’m—”

“In the fetal position because your, and I quote, ‘uterus is falling out.’ I know.” He nodded, a little smile on his lips as he recounted her annoyance on the phone earlier that afternoon.

Making a face, she began to press, “So why—”

“You can’t be alone on New Year’s. And I…brought you some stuff.” At that, he held up the brown grocery bag and sheepishly explained, “I read that some women like chocolate and I got that tea you like—”

As cranky as she was, she couldn’t turn down either offer; opening the door wider, leaning against it, she murmured, “I could kiss you.”

Shrugging off his coat, he hung it on the rack with a charming smile as he shot back, “Well, you could if you wanted.”

Standing on her toes, Maggie braced herself with a hand on his shoulder and pressed her lips to his, it was sweet and short, but she almost wished it had lasted just a little longer. A pang in her stomach interrupted that thought and she groaned softly.

“Have you eaten?” Bucky frowned as she pretended not to hear his question while he unpacked the bag in her kitchen. “Maggie—”

Rolling her eyes at his warning tone, she curled back up on her bed with the door open, calling down the hall from her room, “Not hungry!”

“I’m making you a sandwich.” She could hear him pulling the plate out of the cabinet and placing it on the counter as he added, “Tell me what kind you want or it’s peanut butter and jelly.”

Endeared and slightly annoyed, she called back begrudgingly, “Pesto, mozzarella, and tomato, please.”

“Got it, doll.” He affirmed, slipping off his jacket and shoes before going to work. At some point, he’d gotten to know her kitchen like the back of his right hand. Maybe it was from all of the times that she’d enlisted his help when making dinner, having him bring her things that she needed from the fridge or pantry before finally recruiting him to for chopping or some other small task to finish cooking faster.

Getting it out of the toaster oven, ignoring the spatula in her utensil drawer in favor of his metal hand, he put it on a plate and carried back to her room. Sitting on the bed beside where she’d returned to the fetal position, he frowned, “You need to eat.”

“Thank you.” Pushing herself up with a wince, she accepted the plate, and her mouth watered at the smell; maybe she’d been hungrier than she thought. Careful to avoid getting crumbs everywhere, she took a bite above the plate and hummed as the bold basil and acidic tomato was mellowed out by the cheese.

She’d lied; she’d definitely been starving.

“What are you watching?” He looked at the television, some singer was warbling away to a crowd. Looking around the room, he took it in. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been there, countless times, before but typically all of the lights were off, or his attentions were focused elsewhere, but now he could finally look at the space.

Earthy greens and terracotta shades accented the warm cream color that most of her other décor was comprised of. There were shelves filled with more books than could comfortably fit and knick-knacks on one of the walls. Another had become something of a gallery with art that she’d acquired over time and pictures drawn by kids from work.

Between all of the abstract pieces, there was the occasional photograph sprinkled in. He spotted Natasha and Tony and Poppy and, who he assumed were, her parents. But one person was noticeably absent amid all of them; there were no pictures of Steve on the wall.

Speaking through a bite, her words were slightly garbled by the bread as she shrugged and caught his attention again, “Just the stuff in Time Square.”

They watched the performances in silence as she ate slowly, ripping pieces off the sandwich and nibbling on them. Finally, a country artist took the stage and Maggie groaned, annoyed before an idea struck, “Get your headphones!”

He was already standing and on his way to the entryway to retrieve them from his pocket as he asked over his shoulder, “Why?”

“Just do what I say.” She called after him, setting the plate aside on her nightstand and reclining back against her pillows.

Returning, iPod and headphones in hand, Bucky gave her a look as he grumbled, “You’re lucky I trust you.”

“It’s music, not life or death.” Holding out her hand, he gave up the small device and returned to his spot beside her.

Watching as she navigated the touch screen with an ease that he still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of, he added quietly, “I’d trust you with that too.”

Cheeks pink as a little smile came to her face at his comment, she handed him one of the little buds before popping the other in her own ear. Scrolling through the music, she spotted the ‘recently played’ list and grinned in pleasant surprise, “You’ve used it!”

“’Course I have.” Nudging her with his left arm, he smiled as she put the songs on shuffle and locked the device, laying on her back and staring at the ceiling; he followed suit, adding, “It’s the best Christmas gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“Really?” At his nod, she lit up, preening at the compliment. Bare faced and bone tired, he still thought she was luminescent.

Taking the vibranium hand that rested on the bed between them, she laced their fingers together and scooted closer as Crowded House travelled through the wire and into the headphones. The smooth, slow guitar repeated a short melody before the bass and drums kicked in; it was one of those songs that she just had a gut feeling he might enjoy if he gave it a chance.

The white popcorn ceiling was plain, the canvas was interrupted by the generic light fixture that was off, as always, in favor of lamps instead. With the music and the position, she had the funniest feeling of déjà vu. She could recall doing this same thing countless times while alone in high school; headphones drowned out her too loud thoughts as she stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that had been stuck to the ceiling of her childhood bedroom.

The peace that filled her at the memory was indescribable as she made another with someone that she’d grown to care for more than she wanted to admit. Turning her head, a soft inhale of surprise was pulled from her as she found Bucky already looking at her, his face relaxed as he stared. Raising an eyebrow, she asked quietly, “What are you looking at?”

One side of his mouth ticked into a smile as he murmured, “You’re beautiful.”

“You’re…” Trailing off, she could feel her heart in her throat. The way he looked at her made her head spin; it was like she was this precious thing, something that he was always astonished by. It certainly wasn’t how she imagined a friend looking at another friend. It was moments like these, split seconds that made her breath catch and her heart race, where she imagined what they could be.

Would it be so bad—not just to have a relationship again, but to fall in love? She remembered how it felt, that weightless, flying feeling that was so delicate and beautiful; at least, it had been until the bone crushing pain at the end. Because it always ended, didn’t it? That was how love happened for her; it seemed like every romance came with an unavoidable expiry date.

The death of her parents marked the end of her love with Nick. Her burgeoning feelings for someone else had halted any similar ones that had possibly been growing for Ben. And, ultimately, time had been the culprit that had stolen Steve from her.

But if she didn’t allow it to come to that with Bucky, then maybe it wouldn’t end. If they never called it what it was—or what she felt like it could be—perhaps they could stay in that limbo. It was a painless realm where everything felt balanced, everything felt safe. That’s what she needed; she could be okay with that, as long as he stayed.

She could live in their limbo.

Clearing her throat, she finished with a little smile, “a dork.”

At that, his arms wrapped around her and pulled her on top of him with a grumble. She squirmed, squealing as he situated her atop of him, “Bucky!”

“You’re lucky you’re not feeling good because I ought to spank you, peach.” His words were low as he whispered in her ear, one of his hands squeezing her bottom and making her giggle at the flirty gesture. As he moved to replace her on the spot on the bed, she groaned and clung tighter to him.

“Mm, no, wanna stay right here.” With her face buried in his neck, he could feel the way she shook her head, letting out a soft moan at the pleasant warmth from his body pressed against hers. He was like a life-size heating pad. “You’re warm. Feels nice.”

Chuckling, he replaced the headphone in her ear as she rested on top of him. Listening to the eclectic collection of music that she’d curated for him, he traced swirling, fluid shapes on her back absentmindedly with the light brush of his finger. Occasionally, she’d talk about a specific song, or he’d tell her about one of the ones that he’d heard before, but mostly they laid in a comfortable silence as the year came to a close.

Taking stock of it all, looking back, she’d come much further than she thought she would. Three hundred and sixty-five days before, she didn’t even know if she could find it in herself to wake up in a year that three of the most important people in her life would never get to experience, but she did. And somehow, she was happy—maybe not all of the time, but the majority. Somehow despite everything, like a cat with nine lives, she’d landed on her feet.

Bumped and bruised and maybe a little worse for wear, Maggie had walked away from the remains of a whole life that she’d once had and created another one from its ashes and she loved it. The little apartment, her grumpy cat, her job, and Bucky—maybe it wasn’t much, but to her, it was everything and that was enough.

Against all odds, maybe she had actually fulfilled her promise to Steve. Being ‘okay’ didn’t have to mean that she was happy all of the time or that she didn’t have awful days, maybe it just meant that the good tended to outweigh the bad. And thinking about it, it certainly did.

Every day, she was okay—and maybe somedays, she was even better.

Somehow, hours had ticked by, and she turned her head to see the clock counting down on the television. Another year over.

Tilting her head up to look at Bucky to see if he was even awake, he was already looking back at her. She watched as he hesitated for just a second before brushing his lips against hers. It was soft and slow, something they rarely were—and it was perfect. Maybe a little part of her had believed that she’d feel guilty for ringing in the new year with anyone except Steve but, to her surprise, she didn’t.

Reaching up, cupping his jaw, she allowed herself to sink into him. It wasn’t how she ever would have imagined her year ending, but she couldn’t think of anything better than this. Eventually, their lips parted, and she rested her forehead against his, their noses brushing just slightly as her eyes stayed closed and she whispered, “Happy new year, Bucky.”

His wide hand on her back travelled to her waist, giving it a comforting squeeze as he murmured sleepily, “Happy new year, doll.”

#fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x original character #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes #original character #original female character #oc #ofc #misshoneybee: mosaic broken hearts #misshoneybee: you're my achilles heel #misshoneybee: series #ymah

0 notes

otp-holic · 3 years

Text

Will this be the night? (ALSO IN A03)

A random piece of online advertising unleashes some movie memories of a Summer afternoon in 1932

1.5 Ks Fanfic + Pictures Inside. Part of the Never let us lose what we have gained series (AO3) Silly drabble born from my love of classic movies... that ended up not having anything to do with classic movies.

BROOKLYN'S KING'S THEATRE

Poster for Cary Grant's Retrospective. Printed paper 2025.

A poster for the upcoming month long celebration of the movies of Cary Grant to be held in Brooklyn.

Bucky is not expecting a vivid memory of the past to jump at him from a piece of online location-targeted promotion popping on his phone as he and Steve are wandering around the neighborhood on a random Friday.

But the 21st century works in mysterious ways and Google is kindly inviting him to check “Cary Grant: A Celebration”, a month-long chronological retrospective of all his movies taking place at a nearby hipster cinema starting… in half an hour.

He beams as a long string of memories of the both of them in different afternoons and movies plays in his head; how they counted the cents for the admission price, and how Bucky learned to sneak into the movie every time that did not add up to two full tickets.

“Buck, you’ve been smiling at your phone in silence for a whole minute,” Steve interrupts his daydreaming. “Should I be jealous? Worried?”

“Sorry,” he answers, still smiling about the memories. “I think I’m leaving you for Google, they see inside my one hundred years old soul; But I might give you another chance if you don’t mind a change of plans for the afternoon.”

“Lead the way, but can you give me some heads up?” Steve chuckles, more than used to Bucky’s ways.

He takes Steve’s hand to direct them towards the movie theatre and thinks about how much information he wants to share.

Although he is the one who still relies on the comfort of 30s and 40s movies whereas Steve keeps getting bolder with his options, Steve has always loved Cary Grant and Bucky thinks he’s going to appreciate his choice since this particular movie has a history (sad history, maybe) for them, so he debates on whether to tell him or not.

“We are going to the movies. But the real ones, not that shit on Netflix you keep choosing,” he settles for half-disclosure.

“Damn, mister life in black and white strikes again. Embrace the 21st century, Barnes, I think you’ll like it!”, Steve laughs.

“Hey, I embrace it more than you do! At least I look the part of a mid-thirties man from it instead of a fifty-year-old hiding in fucking khakis. Albeit a very hot one, I’ll give you that.”

They both laugh. It’s not the first time these remarks fly between them and having a routine, running jokes, and running pet peeves is very soothing after everything they have gone through.

They’re getting closer to the cinema now, and Bucky can already see the Billboard announcing the retrospective and a small queue forming upfront. He takes a side look at Steve to see if he has noticed and he can certainly tell that his curiosity has peaked.

“Surprise! Call it a win-win, it might be up my alley, but you used to love Cary Grant movies,” Bucky smiles as they reach their place in the queue and glance at the program for the afternoon.

‘This is the Night (1932)’, the poster says, ‘Cary Grant's feature film debut on the big screen’

Bucky is deep in nostalgia, remembering a summer day of 32 when they were waiting in line for the same film and how the evening turned out, but when he looks in search of his partner’s reaction, it’s not what he expected at all.

“Steve, you ok?” he asks, worried at seeing Steve frozen in place.

Steve nods. His whole face is deep red, but at least he is responsive. He looks ashamed and Bucky is shifting from worried to curious.

“Jesus, this movie,…” he chuckles now.

“You seem to remember, then. I thought you might.”

It was not a happy memory: Steve had felt really ill halfway through, looking white as a sheet of paper and about to die on Bucky. They had to leave the unfinished movie and run home, as per Steve’s request. But as far as Bucky remembers, nothing to be ashamed of.

“Why are you acting weird? Oh my god, Steven, are you allergic to this movie?”

The silence before Steve answers is a little too long and the queue moves forward.

“Shit, this is not easy to say and I’m sorry in advance.”

“Duly noted, but could you try to explain? I’m lost and I didn’t expect a full-on confession of something to be sorry about when I decided to follow Google’s intelligent advice to an unfinished movie. I just thought it was a good excuse for a change of plans. And kind of closure.”

Steve takes a breath and starts talking.

“I wasn’t honest with you, Buck. Back then…” he stops, searching for words, nervously musing on his beard. “Ah, I cannot believe this hasn’t come up at some point, but there it goes. I absolutely lied to you that day: I wasn’t sick or half dying and I am very very guilty of using my poor health to run away from that place and that movie, but I did the only thingI could think of.”

Bucky is at a loss for words, he’s still deciding if he is angry, curious, or somewhere in between.

“But… but you were feverish and white as a ghost and you said you had palpitations!”

Steve seems to think for a moment again and the bastard laughs so loud they get a curious look from the people behind. And taking advantage of the queue moving up again, he gets really really close to Bucky who honestly thinks he’s going to try to kiss himself out of the situation since it’s a bulletproof strategy.

But he doesn’t: He goes for Bucky’s ear instead, and whispers.

“I had a boner like you wouldn’t believe.”

Bucky gasps loudly totally taken aback while Steve takes a step back and looks at him in the eye more amused and hungry than ashamed, but still blushing.

“But hey, not all lies! I was somehow sick. And pale since my blood was… otherwise occupied. And I was barely 14!”

Bucky laughs at the dork. His dork. But the information is still making its way into his brain.

“Oh my God,” he exclaims as it starts to settle, “You piece of shit, you pulled the poor sick child card when you were just plain horny. I was worried to my bones as we run to your home. Shame on you Rogers!”

“Me? It was your fucking fault! Yours and Cary Grant’s and your stupid grins and stupid chins, those clefts!” he’s screaming in whispers so Steve Rogers’ teenage boner doesn’t make it to the news, but he’s talking as if he was pronouncing an important speech to the UN, “What was a 14-year-old in the fucking 30s popping one upon seeing an actor who kind of looked like a very tall version of his very male best friend to do?”

He is about to say something, but Steve literally covers his mouth with one hand giving Bucky no other option but to stick his tongue and lick the palm.

“Gross, Buck. I’m not done!”, he dries his hand on Buckys’ shirt before he goes on. “I’m not done because as I was still processing all that, you kept brushing your goddamned hand with mine when you went for popcorn! Over and over and over. It was torture. I have palpitations now just thinking about it.”

Bucky full-on laughs. One of those real ones that come more and more lately and that he honestly thought he would never get to experience again.

They have reached the box office, so he doesn’t push it further. For now.

“Two tickets for `This is the Night´, please.” Bucky smiles at the box-office guy. “He is paying, tho. I paid last time we tried to see this one and he didn’t have the decency to stay until the end.”

He actually feels like a teen as Steve takes his hand into the theatre, as he very intentionally buys popcorn to share, and as they start full-on making out on their seats during the commercials once the lights are out.

“Wanna know another secret, Buck?” Steve whispers a few minutes later, eyes on the starting movie as he brushes Bucky’s hand with intention over the popcorn bucket. His flustered face and recently kissed lips bathed by dancing lights and shadows coming from the screen. “It’s a good thing we were already together in ‘38 when “Bringing up baby” came out because I was able to plan ahead and lure you into that memorable window fuck at our old apartment before the show, or we would have totally missed one of our favorite movies, too.”

Bucky hates Steve with the force of the universe. Or maybe not, but he’s not playing clean.

“Raincheck on the movie?” he manages to whisper back as he drives Steve’s hand to his already noticeable hard-on. Two can play this game.

“Oh, poor Buck. Do you have palpitations” Steve chuckles, lips wet on Bucky’s ear and gripping harder on his bulge instead of letting go. “Was that the memory of the window fuck? Or all the making out? Tell me so I don’t do it again.”

“You are a punk, Steve Rogers,” Bucky answers before standing up to leave, closely followed by a smiling Steve.

Argh, sorry for deleting and uploading again, but i had technical issues with this.... so here it goes again. I need to free myself from this one!

105 notes · View notes

petersnya · 3 years

Text

sight for sore eyes|| peter b. parker ||

[part. 00; jealousy]

summary:: “I watch your eyes as she walks by…” you pause, tears forming as you remember the way peter looked at her- the way you wanted him to look at you, “what a sight for sore eyes…” || when the realization hits you about peter, it’s too late. but sometimes late is just the right timing… sometimes.

word count:: 1.5k

warnings(for the whole series):: friends>enemies>lovers, mature themes/smut, cursing, slight violence, lots of angst, fluff, clueless peter

warning(for this chapter):: cursing, angst, fluff

paring:: peter parker x fem!reader

[a/n]:: wattup! peter parker (and any other teens mentioned) have been aged up to 17 and turning 18 as the story goes on! i hope you enjoy this and make sure to let me know if you want to be tagged in the parts<3 also! endgame and infinity war did not happen for the sake mine and your happiness though out this ‘book’

“Your going down Parker.”

“Nah man, Im gonna—“

Peter was cut off but the vibration of his controller as you killed his video game character. Taking off your head set and setting down your controller with a calm, soft smirk spread across your face as your side of the TV had ‘winner’ written across.

“No-no! That’s not fair dude! You cheated,” Peter yelled towards you as you walked into the kitchen to grab a slice of pizza. Reaching into the fridge to get a soda, you felt your back being pressed against Peter’s toned chest as he grabbed the soda you had in your hand.

Opening it and taking a sip he chuckle at the look on your face as you turned around to face him. All he did was walk away, back towards the couch, falling back on to it as he picked up his head set.

The look that made the curly headed boy laugh was still on your face as you watched him. To him, you looked annoyed yet humored by him; but really, you couldn’t help this feeling you felt when you felt him against you. Redness began to creep up your neck but quickly faded as you shook the feeling he gave you.

He’s you best friend idiot. You can feel this way for him if all people.

“You coming?” Peter question, starting a new game. You rolled your eyes to make it seem as if you weren’t flustered but the boy a few feet away from you.

“Yea man. Ready to get your ass kicked agin?” You joked as you sat next to him.

“Haha- not funny.” He said with a straight face and a fake laugh that made you giggle as you shoved his shoulder with yours.

The whole night as you a peter played video games back to back, you couldn’t help but think about the feeling of his muscular chest against you. Around 1:20 AM, you and Peter had started to get tired. The boy next to you turned off the gaming console, slowly turning towards you.

“I got the couch, you got the bed.” He said, sleep lacing his voice. You wanted to protest, saying that you could both have the bed; but something stopped you and you just nodded your head, telling him good night as you walked to his bed room. His aunt, May, wasn’t home but made it very clear that she had an eye on both of you so you knew that Peter didn’t want to his aunt May to see you to in the bed together. Even if the two of you were just sleeping.

Laying in bed, Peter’s bed, you stared at the sealing not being able to fall asleep.

The smell of room sent your mind spiraling. Rolling over onto your side, you pushed your arm underneath his pillow as you inhaled his the sent. Peter was the only thing on your mind. The way he smiled, his chocolate hair and honey brown eyes, the light freckles across his nose that you could only see if you were up close to his face. His laugh made your heart skip beats.

“3:57 AM,” you read the clock sign with a sigh. You knew you should go to sleep; so you rolled once again, getting into a more comfortable position. Your eyes getting heavy as you drifted into sleep.

<<<<<<<<

A warm arm draped around your waist, fingers slowly sliding up and down your bare stomach from the shirt that lifted in your sleep.

You smiled softly at the contact, not thinking to check who it was. But the feeling a bare, muscular chest on your back made your eyes fling open.

Slowly, you turned your head to see who was behind you, even though you knew it was—

“Peter?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed back in response, not opening his eyes. You couldn’t shack the feeling of the chill that ran up your spine, and the goosebumps that formed on your body.

“Wha- uh.. what are you doing?” You questioned in a hushed voice.

“Hhmm? Oh sorry. The couch got uncomfortable. I didn’t think you’d mind though.” He said while opening his sleepy looking eyes.

“Oh no-I don’t mind.”

Peter removed his arm, turning with his back turned towards you. You almost whimpered at the feeling of his arm not being around your waist anymore.

Stop it [y/n]. This is Peter we’re talking about here. But why would he put his arm around me and not expect me to feel some way about it?

The thoughts ran through your head fast, the last on lingering for a while.

You and Peter were the best of friends. If he needed someone, you were there and vise versa. But you weren’t really that girly. So Peter didn’t think of you in ‘that type of way’. You didn’t think of him that way either. The two of you always called each other ‘bro’, ‘dude’, or ‘man’; but you still had that feeling of tingles and warmth—

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud, tired groan from Peter. The sound going straight to your core. Quickly, you got up and went into his bathroom— making sure to not make a lot of noise as you went, Incase May was home.

Looking in the bathroom mirror you stared at your self in question. You were a tom-boy. You were wearing a pair of rolled up basket ball shorts of Peter’s and one of his very large white Tee’s. You shrugged at your reflection,

“If I wanted to look all girly and ‘pretty’ I could be the hottest girl he would know.”

“Who’s he?”

You jumped at the sound of Peter’s raspy voice behind you. He only had on sweats and no shirt. All you could think was

Damn

“No one, just.. speaking hypothetically.”

“Your wired,” he chuckled as you grabbed a towel from the bathroom closet, mumbling something along the lines of, ‘I’m just gonna go shower in Mays bathroom’. You just nodded, going to take a shower of your own in his bathroom.

After your shower, you went into the kitchen where May stood, making coffee for the three of you. Peter sat on the couch flipping through channels.

“Hey honey!”

“Morning May,” you said as you say in one of the chairs at the dining table.

“Are you going to Florida with Peter, Ned and Mj?” She questioned, you nodded in response. The three of you had been planning this for a while now so you were beyond excited to spend time with you best friends.

You stood for the set you just took, walking over to Peter. He was wearing his usual jeans and flannel but this time had a baseball cap on. As you slumped beside you grabbed the hat and put it on you backwards. Peter chuckled at your childish act, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

The three of you sat in silence till May was done with the coffee. She brought it over to you and Peter, handing you the mugs. You thanked her as she walked away.

Peter’s and your phone got a text notification— the two of you checking it at the same time. It was a group chat with you, Peter, MJ, and Ned for the trip to Universal Studios.

Ned: heyyyy.. so Liz and Flash are also coming to Disney with us.

You and Peter looked at each other at the sight of what Ned texted. You watched as Peter texted back— his cheeks a blushed red color. You have known Peter long enough to know when he’s turning red from anger. This wasn’t anger. He was… blushing?

Peter: Liz is coming?!

You face fell at the text. Looking down at your phone, you glanced up at young guy next to you; but quickly looked away before he saw you.

Mj: yea Ned! Wtf are they coming for???

Ned: well I was talking about it to Betty and they over heard and kinda invited their selves… srry:(

Y/n: I’m just gonna ignore those bitches and go to Hogwarts like I planned.

Peter looked at, “[y/n], you don’t like Liz?” He questioned.

You shocked your head no, not caring enough to look him in the face.

“How dude? She’s so hot,” he said with a smirk. Your heart sank at the words.

What the hell are you acting like this for [y/n]?

Peter continued to text in the group chat. You silenced your phone— not wanted to deal with this right now.

You had never became jealous of anyone. Confusion over took you as you scrambled your mind for why you were jealous of Peter and Liz. You didn’t like Peter at all. Did you?

Did you like Peter Parker? The thought lingered for a while.

No. No I can’t like him and I won’t. It’s just wrong.

Those words that you promised yourself you would keep was the biggest lie you had told yourself. Peter Parker was like a drug—

How could you not get addicted?

I hope you enjoyed this ‘chapter’ !! Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part!! :)

245 notes · View notes

treasureswordsgirl55 · 3 years

Text

One More Try

Character: James Bucky Barnes

Pairing: James Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

Inspired by (Song): Volveré Junto a Ti - Laura Pausini

Warnings ⚠️: Post!Endgame. Post!TFATWS. Mentions of New team of Avengers. White Wolf!Bucky. Angst. Mentions of Break up. Reconciliation. Relationship. Insecurities and Fears. Fluff with a Happy Ending.

Author's Note: Hello everyone!! How are you doing?

I'm here with another fic of my beautiful soldier, Bucky 😍. I write this fic in less than 2 hours. I heard that song and, before I read a list of prompts here and I thought "Why not?"

The ideas in this Fics are VERY VERY crazy. So... I let my imagination fly (So much...)

You'll understand when you read it....

This is the result. In less words, this is a break up/made up fic. So... I hope you like this one, and thanks you for the replies.

Always are well received XOXO ❤️

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Tu dime si estás dispuesto a intentar de nuevo conmigo un largo camino...

"I want to try again, doll. I want to try as many times as necessary whenever it is with you"

I hear his agitated voice and I feel my heart begin to break into a thousand pieces. The sounds of debris falling around him make my heart stop for a few seconds when I notice how the connection is cut off, but Sam, who is next to me, listening to our conversation through the other earpiece sighs worried.

"I shouldn't have yelled that night, I shouldn't have asked you to leave and much less, I should have told you that I didn't love you, because it's the biggest lie I've ever told in my life "

It had been more than three weeks since we had broken up. And it felt like he had been living in hell ever since.

And it seemed like it felt that way to him too.

- Bucky, not now. Tell me whatever you want when you're here - I try to hold back the tears and although I feel Sam's hands on my arms immobilizing me, preventing me from taking a single step where I was not sure - We both said many things that night, and the one that I regret the most. all of them is having run away at the slightest opportunity.

- You shouldn't want to be with me, doll.

His words make my tears fall with much more force down my cheeks. What did I do well to love this man?

- That's not true, you know I always wanted to be by your side from the moment I met you. I'm the one who should ask you for a chance, not you - A curse leaves his lips as I hear in the background that an explosion seems to cut off communication. I don't like Sam's expressions, but I know he's here until the SWORD agents come to protect me - I don't want to lose you, James...

Screams cover his voice as I feel tears run down my cheeks and I feel the desperate need to get to his side. I feel that a pressure in my chest suffocates me at the idea of losing it and I know that I will not forgive myself if I do not tell him what I feel at this moment.

But I can't do it through a headset.

I silently hand the receiver to Sam as I feel the weight of guilt fall on my shoulders and look down the street where the fences prevent people from approaching the perimeter imposed by the Avengers. I see that the new Captain America moves away from me for a moment and it takes me only a few seconds to ponder that idea.

It's crazy but I will always try for him.

- Sam? - He turns quickly as he removes his hand from her ear, cutting off the communication from his earpiece and let out a sigh at his concerned look - Forgive me.

As soon as the word leaves my lips, I turn to Bucky's teachings in our spare time and punch Sam on the cheek, which catches him totally off guard causing him to stagger into a corner as I run towards the door of the building. I barely hear him curse when I pull with full force on the huge glass door and the air from the street hits me, causing me to take a deep breath and try to use all my strength to run the three blocks that separated me from him.

I hear the insults behind me, I dodge the few people who still walk through the streets far from the perimeter as if nothing were happening and as soon as I turn around, I see that some men in suits with weapons are chasing me. I try to accelerate my steps, but I begin to feel that my lungs burn with each step and with each breath I take, I feel like fire is coming from my lips.

The cops try to stop me, but I use what little force I have left to push them and once I'm braked by the debris around me, I look for him. The fallen buildings, the wrecked cars and the dust around me prevent me from seeing into the distance, but I try to walk carefully so as not to hurt myself. I take refuge in the rubble when I hear Sam's voice in the distance, cursing the cops who couldn't stop me and I thank the cloud of dust that hides me.

I walk quickly towards the voices I hear in the distance, and I feel my heart begin to race as soon as I recognize his voice. He sounds sad, but he is talking to someone else.

- Focus, James. Let's get this over with and you can get back to her - I barely recognize that voice, but the green flashes around her alert me who it is. It' s Loki, the God of Asgard.

I try to call him but I can't, the dust in my throat prevents me from speaking.

I walk a few more meters until the dust seems to settle and I see them, they are both next to each other several meters from me, waiting for someone or something to appear around them. I see Bucky raise his hand to his face and turn around as soon as he hears whatever they are saying to him. He seems to look for something with his eyes and I see that Loki points him in my direction.

In that moment I can find my voice.

- Bucky! - I don't need to be around to know that he is cursing, but he quickly approaches where I am and barely wraps his arms around me, I feel at home. I bury my face in his chest and squeeze tightly his suit between my hands, wishing we were away from all the destruction around us - I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Bucky.

He quickly pulls me away and takes me by the face with both hands making me look at him: his despair is the same as mine, but he does not hesitate for a second to put his lips on mine, feeling the salty taste of my tears on our joined lips .

The warmth and despair are present in our kiss and he barely separated me, he rests his forehead against mine.

- What the hell are you doing here? You should be safe.

I put my hands up his white suit and the only thing I can do is caress his face, since the need to touch him is impossible to hide.

-I needed you to know that I want to try as much as you - I admit as I feel him smile against my hand when I touch his lips - I miss you so much, James.

He laughs as he looks behind him and sees that in the distance, Wanda tries to control the variants of Kang who are trying to take control of New York.

- You have chosen a great moment to say it, doll.

I stay silent as I rest my hand against his chest, level with his heart.

- When Sam told me that you had hit him and that you ran away I knew you would come here - He turns away enough so that I can see his blue eyes opaque from the annoyance but at the same time softened by the inopportune moment that we were sharing - You're going to kill me one of these days, doll.

- I can not lose you. I do not want to lose you.

We are both silent and he knows that those words were what he really wanted to say to him.

- I don't want to lose you again.

- Neither do I.

He separates enough to hear Loki's voice calling him from afar, as Sam enters the mist of dust, he barely sees me, he gives me a look of anger that I hope he can forget at some point. Two agents approach him and stand on either side of where I am.

- Sergeant Barnes - Bucky gives them a nod as he tightens his grip on my waist even more and turns to his best friend, who glares at him - Miss.

- This is your fault - Sam indicates his cheek and Bucky lets out a laugh without even letting go - And then I'll talk seriously to you, young lady.

- Sorry to interrupt the friendly chat, and if it was another time I would bring you tea, but I need help. They are coming - The Asgardian's voice reaches us from afar and I see that more men in suits approach his side, protecting the nearby buildings while Wanda turns to Loki with a satisfied smile - Come on, Barnes. Do your thing.

- Get her out of here - As soon as Sam says those words, one of the men surrounds my arm and pulls me away from Bucky, but before I even notice it, I am back in his arms and feeling again the softness of his lips against mine.

He breaks away with a smile on his face and takes my hand to kiss on it - Leave the gallantry for later, Buck. We're in middle of a damn fight.

- Come home in a one piece, White Wolf.

He gives me a mischievous smile as soon as he hears his new nickname and starts walking behind Sam, turning for a second.

- You want me doll, you have me. Remember it.

106 notes · View notes

captainsimagines · 3 years

Text

traitor

Summary: It was only one night, no strings attached, just two friends working through their grief together. Steve went to live his life with Peggy and within two weeks of returning, he peacefully passed. Unimaginable things happen everyday, jokes have negative consequences, and protection doesn’t always protect from the possibility… the possibility of carrying a child. He would have stayed if he knew, everyone agrees with this, so why is the world calling Steve Rogers a traitor?

One-Shot (with a happy ending)

Pairing(s): Avengers x Fem Reader; brief Steve Rogers x Fem Reader

Warnings: Unexpected pregnancy; serious talks about abortion; brief mention of suicide (if you squint); mentions of Endgame deaths; strong language; minor descriptions of actual birth; ANGST but with a happy ending! This is purely fanfiction.

Word Count: 6,600+

A/N: So, Olivia Rodrigo’s album just came out and dude, jfc every song is magical. like... wtf. This is essentially a ‘song fanfic’, but ehhhh not quite. The lyrics don’t match the fanfic lmao but the melody does??? idk this is a shit ton of angst, be warned. It was from a request I got a while back, so this is kind of a request fanfic.

Up until the moment Steve pressed his soft lips to yours, you were certain you had never experienced such a wonderful sensation of magic. You had been witness to actual magic, to beings from other worlds, and yet Steve’s gentle touch was enough to erase any other image, to completely overpower your senses, a kind of magic that dug deep into the trenches of your heart and settled in its new home.

No, you and Steve were not a couple. There were some flirty remarks over the years, some fantasies that lay dormant, but there was never the craving to actually act upon them. But when half the world disappeared and the remaining Avengers came up with a plan five years later, the loss of a teammate prompted the sudden push of two touch-starved individuals. The rest of the team had gone to sulk in their own corners of the compound, some hard at work at constructing the final piece to the puzzle, and you and Steve ventured off to the kitchen. Two cups of tea each, silent but heavy tears mixing in with the sugar and milk.

You were the first to break, shoulders crumbling and knees rocking under your weight. You fell to the floor, sobs and hiccups forming into a full-blown attack, your hands scratching at your neck. Steve fell beside you, pulling you into his chest and rocking you back and forth. He cried too, the final words of his best friend ringing in his ears like a dreaded song on repeat. See you in a minute. See you in a minute. See you in a minute.

Time was irrelevant, you had enough of counting time, estimating it, time-traveling through it. If you could sit there all night, all week, another five years huddled close to Steve Rogers, then so be it.

‘I can’t believe she’s gone,’ you had sobbed.

‘I can’t believe it either. I can’t,’ he had cried back.

You had simply lifted your head and turned his face toward yours, searching his eyes for any hesitation before you had leaned in first. He had returned the intimate gesture almost immediately, gripping you tightly. Tears dripped in between your moving lips, sobs caught inside breathy moans, grips becoming tighter and tighter as each of you shared your first time together. No other partner up until that point had ever pulled such a pained but grateful cry from your throat, no other human being had ever made you feel so safe and peaceful.

The final battle was over, you had lost yet another teammate, but the world had a chance to start over. And Steve had pulled you aside a few days before he returned the stones, letting you know that he wasn’t coming back the same man. He had been so scared of telling you, of possibly betraying you, but when your palms cupped his cheeks and you gave him a kiss on the lips with a soft whisper of ‘Be with her. Cherish her. Be happy. We’ll meet again’, his worries instantly shattered. He could only rapidly nod his head, grabbing your hands that were soaked in his tears, and kissing them until he said his final goodbyes.

And he returned such a different man, but with a smile you had never quite seen before. Yes, he was older and you only had a few seconds to actually process that, but he was happy. He had been happy. He finally lived the life he deserved.

Sitting in that pew two weeks later, both sad and happy tears streaming down your face, you felt at peace for the first time in a long time. You simply gripped Wanda’s hand as they carried the casket down the aisle, a sad melody drowning the church.

The first round of sickness hit you the day of the funeral, but you obviously didn’t think much of it. It was the fits of sadness and grief, the hot coil in the middle of your stomach, you thought. It had to be. It wasn’t until your breakfast was regurgitated into your toilet only a few minutes after enjoying it that you were suddenly worried.

You sneaked to some liquor store a subway ride away, careful of not leaving a trail. This was embarrassing, it was insane, it couldn’t possibly be real. You gave the cashier your money and ran to the stall provided, peeing on the stick the best you could before placing it on the dirty sink in the corner. You patted your hands on your thighs repeatedly, careful to not touch any other thing in a goddamn liquor store bathroom.

‘Friday?’ your voice was so defeated, tears already stinging your eyes.

Your little bluetooth sprang to life, ‘Yes, Y/N?’

Your bottom lip was trembling wildly, hands now shaking. ‘Can you stay active with me while I read the results? I can’t… I can’t be alone right now.’

‘Yes, Y/N. Anything you need, I’m here.’ You sobbed openly, thanking her under your breath. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to contact anybody else?’

‘I can’t face them. I can’t face them if it’s positive, Friday.’

‘Okay, it’s alright,’ her voice was so delicate, so quiet and reassuring. ‘Just keep talking to me, Y/N. I think the results should be ready now.’

You inched closer to the test. ‘I’m scared, Friday.’

‘I know,’ Friday sighed, ‘But you will get through this. No matter the result.’

Grabbing the small device from the sink, you swallowed so much saliva that it actually hurt. The plus sign was so clear, so evident in its visibility, and your ears only registered the loud cries escaping your painful lungs because Friday was practically yelling in your ear.

‘Please, calm down Y/N! Your heart rate is too fast-” she was stuttering, an AI was stuttering. ‘I’m calling for help. You need someone to be here with you. I’m sorry.’

It took ten minutes. Ten minutes of banging outside the bathroom door from the cashier, ten minutes of blurry vision and a strep throat. Sam broke through the door as quickly as he could, eyes flying around the small bathroom until he saw you huddled in the corner, a pregnancy test clutched in your small hand. He crouched down beside you, hands extended but not exactly touching you, and eyes trying to lock with yours.

‘Y/N, Y/N?’

Just the sound of his voice, the voice of someone who didn’t need this added pain in their lives, it was just too much. Another weight added to your shoulders.

‘I don’t know why,’ you choked out, ‘I’m so sorry.’

Sam’s face contorted into a pained expression, eyes brimmed with salty tears. ‘What are you talking about? No one is blaming you for anything. You’re safe, I’m here.’

You shook your head violently, ‘I didn’t mean to.’

But as quickly as those words left your mouth, the pounding in your head had become too unbearable. You collapsed into Sam’s arms.

You woke to a single doctor who was monitoring your vitals. She was just sitting beside your bed, clicking random buttons on the screen in front of her. You whimpered slightly, the bright lights temporarily blinding you. The doctor quickly stopped what she was doing and removed the tube from your nose, allowing you to breathe on your own. You ignored the weird scratch that caused, and asked her the question you needed to have answered by a true medical professional - not a liquor store device.

She confirmed what you already knew. There were no ‘congratulations’ or even ‘I’m sorry’s’, just the fact that you were pregnant and it was very early on. There were still options for you, it was healthy so far, you were healthy so far-

Wait, options?

The team were all huddled outside, nerves all over the place. They didn’t know what was going on. Sam knew but it wasn’t his information to pass on. It wasn’t until Bucky’s angry demeanor actually turned violent, a hole forming through the hospital wall. You were all on a private floor, completely displaced from the reality down on other levels, so any freak-outs were only slightly justified. Slightly.

‘Sam, you gotta tell us. I made a promise to Steve, Sam! I promised to take care of her!’

Bucky’s words gripped Sam’s heart in a metaphorical vice. ‘She’s gotta tell you guys, man. It’s not my place.’

You had curled in on yourself, the doctor’s words echoing louder and louder.

‘Abortion is an option. At this rate, it would be quick and safe. I can promise you that. It’s your choice.’

You wanted to die. You wanted the world to swallow you up and bury you alive. You wanted to disappear. If you had died in the snap, this wouldn’t have happened. It wouldn’t have happened.

The ride back to the compound was a quiet one, with Sam driving you and the radio on low volume.

‘Are you going to tell them?’

You bit your lip, ‘The doctor said I had options.’

Sam’s breath hitched and he tried to mask it, but you had heard it. You felt guilty, disgusting, like you betrayed Steve and the rest of the team. They had just lost him, you had just lost him, and you were carrying his child. And if Steve would have known, he would have wanted it. He would have encouraged you to have it, he would have been so happy, he would have been such a great fa-

‘The choice is yours, Y/N.’ He glanced over at you, ‘Can you at least tell me who the father is?’

The wrecked sobs were like second nature now, choking you with their strength. ‘I’m so sorry!’

Sam pulled to the side of the road and quickly took off his seatbelt, sliding over in the connected front seats to pull you into his chest. ‘Shh, hey. We are not going to be mad at you. Everything’s going to be okay. It may not seem like it now but-’

‘Sam!’ you cried, clutching his shirt in a tight fist. ‘I swear it was an accident! Steve didn’t know! He didn’t know, I swear he didn’t know!’

Sam’s mouth dropped open, an almost embarrassing noise of surprise sounding from the depths of his soul. He ran his hands through your hair, eyes rapidly searching for a single viewpoint. But he couldn’t focus on any one thing, not when you were shuddering against him and apologizing nonstop.

Steve didn’t know.

The team had reacted in a similar manner. They so desperately wanted to wish you a congratulations, it was the norm for this kind of thing. Especially with such a rough few years - bringing life into this world could be considered an ultimate blessing. But this was Steve’s child, his baby, his only baby in this timeline. It was a part of him, something he had unknowingly left behind.

The team took a few days. The pain of losing Natasha, of losing Steve, of losing Tony. The gift of life. It was just too much.

And you found yourself in front of Wanda’s bedroom door, hands clutching your night robe closed and knees wobbly. She brought you tea, she laid underneath the covers with you, she spooned you until you stopped crying.

‘We weren’t together.’

‘You weren’t?’

You sat up, muscles straining due to your thousandth crying session that week. ‘No, it was one time. It was a mutual thing. We just… felt safe. And we made love.’

Wanda shut her eyes briefly, only to open them for two parallel tears to slip. ‘That sounds beautiful.’

‘We used protection. It really was an accident.’

Wanda interrupted, ‘No, don’t try and justify yourself. It happened. It’s done.’

You whimpered, reaching out to grab her hands. ‘I feel so guilty for even talking to you. I don’t know how you did it. I’m so selfish to be pouring all this on you-’

‘Hey, hey,’ she whispered, ‘But I am the only one who can truly understand. I have lost more in my lifetime than anybody ever should. But I am going to help you get through this, Y/N.’

You pulled her into a hug, ‘I missed you so much. I’m so sorry, but I can’t do this.’

Wanda slowly pulled away, eyes cloudy and touch of red twinge flying in her irises. ‘Alright. I won’t leave your side. No matter what you decide.’

The chair was cold, the room was cold, no matter how inviting the hospital tried to make this room. It was decorated in the most neutral colors, so delicate in its designs, pamphlets and books scattered on every available surface. It was made to make the pregnant person feel secure, to feel comfortable in the hands of their doctor, but it just made you sick.

And when the doctor asked if you would like an ultrasound first, that it wasn’t actually necessary for you to view it, you found yourself saying yes. You were at six weeks, it would be there. Wanda clenched her eyes shut, because even if you were strong enough to do that, she wasn’t. But she was here to hold your hand. She would hold your hand no matter what.

It was the size of a grain of rice. That fuzzy, white figure off a little to the right of your uterus was the size of a grain. A literal grain of rice. The monitor shifted and the doctor cleared their throat, the slimy device absentmindedly being circled around your lower abdomen.

‘Oh my god,’ you whispered, eyes locked on the place the doctor had their finger. Wanda brought her hand up to her mouth and looked away.

That’s when you heard it.

The steady rhythm of a strong heartbeat.

Your chest started heaving, tears staining your cheeks as you listened to the beautiful sound.

‘I’m so sorry,’ the doctor mumbled, ready to pull the monitor’s plug to end the live video but you gripped their arm before they could.

‘No, no!’ you yelped, the heartbeat still sounding, so early in its actual life that this was for sure Steve’s child.

You turned to Wanda, face contorting into one of agonizing regret. ‘I can’t do this. I can’t do this to Steve.’

Wanda gulped and took in a ragged breath, ‘Y/N, Steve’s not here.’

‘No,’ you whined, head turning back to look at the monitor. The monitor with yours and Steve’s child on it. ‘This is the only real part of him we have left, right?’

Wanda opened her mouth but shut it again, unable to formulate a proper response.

‘This is Steve’s child,’ you stated, sucking in a breath through your sobs. ‘This is my child.’

The team was alerted of your decision the minute you walked into the common room. They had known what you left for, dread itching in their souls and morals twisting greedily, but they hadn’t stopped you. They couldn’t do that to you.

‘Hi,’ you mumbled, placing your things on the counter. Everyone kept their heads down, lumps growing in their throats as each second passed. ‘I’m okay.’

Clint was the first one to speak. ‘Did everything go well? Did they hurt you?’

You smiled with your teeth for the first time in weeks, ‘No, they didn’t hurt me. They didn’t even touch me.’

For a few seconds, no one caught on to your words. But Bucky was the first to register them, to etch them deeply into his brain, to stand from his seat and walk to you cautiously. ‘You decided-?’

You smiled wide now, happy tears falling over your strained cheeks. ‘I’m having a baby.’

The team erupted, cries and cheers deafening you. Bucky stumbled over and hugged you close, arms wrapped over your shoulders and face buried in your neck. He had to bend his knees to keep that position. He weeped into your shoulder and thanked you repeatedly, his own body rumbling with broken sobs. You held him close, fingers digging into his shirt and the skin of his back.

‘We promise, Y/N,’ Sam said off to the side, waiting for his turn to hug you. ‘We promise to take care of you and this baby.’

A few more long-awaited congratulations were shared. ‘Guess I’m on desk duty for the next nine months, huh?’

Bucky held you tighter.

The first four months were certainly eventful. Wanda insisted on taking pictures of you every few weeks. She had you model with a nice tight shirt to show off your growing stomach, different props in your arms as the weeks passed on. Flowers, sporting equipment, random Avengers inventions, signs that read the number of weeks you were at. You even did couple shoots, with your teammates posing behind you with their hands on your stomach and an equally bright smile.

She had them printed out and framed, the compound common rooms now littered with random photos of you and your growing child. It was like a timeline, a museum considering you would catch someone inspecting the photographs. This time it was Scott, casually eating his cereal and balancing it in his hand as he walked the hallway. He had this silly smile on his face the whole time, milk dripping from his bottom lip. In his photo, he was posed behind you with a giant smile, back arched and head thrown back while you were trying your best to arch your back as well. And then he saw you watching him, eyes falling from your face to your stomach, and that silly smile growing wider.

Happy insisted on doing yoga with you every other morning, his chosen playlists actually Tony’s. Half expecting the songs to only emit the essence of rock and roll, you were surprised when the playlist only contained acoustics. Happy winked at you, ‘He was a man of taste, Y/N. He, too, had those sad driving songs.’

Peter was hesitant to visit at first. He was still mourning Tony, as you all were, and seeing everyone again was certainly a hard thing to do. But he managed, and the moment he saw you there, trying to balance a plastic bottle on your tiny stomach, he burst into a fit of giggles.

‘Oh, oh! I almost got it!’ you encouraged yourself, stomach not yet protruded enough to quite get it.

Peter rushed over and caught the bottle as it slipped, ‘You’ll get there. How do you feel?’

You grinned at the kid, ‘Like I’m pregnant.’

Peter chuckled, ‘I wouldn’t know, so.’

‘It’s weird,’ you admitted, turning back to your abandoned bowl of fruit. You popped a piece of pineapple in your mouth, ‘But I just remind myself that they’re gonna be an angel when they come out.’

‘All slimy and angelic.’

You swatted at Peter, ‘They’re healthy. That’s all that matters.’

Peter placed his hand on your stomach, half-expecting something to happen. ‘I can’t believe you’re having his baby.’

You bit your lip, willing yourself not to cry. Steve should be here experiencing this. ‘Me neither.’

The next month had come so quickly. Your friends - your family - made sure to keep you occupied. Whether it was to shop, to nap together, to eat together, to exercise together, anything, they were by your side. It was so overwhelming at times, but not wanting to scare anyone, you took time for yourself whenever you could. You’d settle in your room, in a nearby cafe, in Natasha’s room, and just sit and breathe. With one hand on your stomach, you couldn’t possibly fathom the luck on your side. It always tore your heart in two when you realized Steve would never meet his child, absolutely mutilated it. But the realization that this child was going to have such a massive family, your family, uncles and aunts who would die for the kid - that realization was sometimes too much.

The thunder from outside startled everyone. The quiet night everyone was having was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a certain god, hair now cut and beard trimmed, running into the common area. He was practically hyperventilating, his quick pace halting as he scanned the room. ‘Is it true?’

‘You got my message?’ Wanda asked, shutting off the water from the sink.

‘I’m sorry, I was away. I just got the message and-’

Thor lay his eyes on you, your obvious stomach, and he started crying softly. ‘It’s true?’

You smiled at him, opening your arms for an embrace. But Thor fell to his knees in front of you, forehead resting on your stomach. ‘This is a miracle.’

‘It really is,’ you laughed, wiping away a few stray tears. ‘The condom broke.’

Laughter sounded almost instantly.

Thor looked up at you, eyes red and eyebrows furrowed. ‘He didn’t know?’

You shook your head, ‘No, Steve didn’t know. I promise.’

Thor nodded, believing you. He stood slowly, encasing you in a tight squeeze. He hadn’t changed much since you last saw him, but he did seem to be drinking less. ‘After so much loss, the Heaven’s send us a gift from a beloved friend.’

Bucky seemed to be the happiest. Although he shared your beliefs that Steve should be here to experience this, to cherish this, to be the father he had deserved to be, Bucky couldn’t help but feel grateful that you decided to keep the baby. He knew he needed to stop relying on Steve to fix his mind, this he had to do on his own, but the bundle of joy inside of you just added to his undying love for his best friend. This was a piece of him, a true half of Steve’s heart that would soon be breathing air and opening its eyes.

He was currently laying beside you, just woken up from a nap and lazily drawing circles over your clothed tummy. You were still asleep, deep breaths a little ragged since you were twisted slightly to your side. You had given up trying to sleep on your back nowadays.

‘Hey there,’ Bucky whispered, a funny smile forming on his face because he can’t believe he’s talking to your literal stomach. ‘You know you’re a miracle, right?’

There was no response, obviously. But Bucky just positioned himself to lean on his elbow, temple resting in the palm of his hand. ‘We’re going to love you so much. Steve would have loved you so much.’

He placed his metal hand on your stomach, careful not to apply so much pressure. He was hesitant though, the metal hand now from Wakanda but still something he didn’t entirely trust. Still, he rubbed smooth circles on your side. ‘I already love you so much.’

Kick.

Bucky widened his eyes, a hitch in his breath. Was that real?

‘Did you just respond to me?’ Bucky asked, a little laugh escaping his lips. ‘Should I say it again?’

Nothing happened for a long while. He switched hands, rubbing a little deeper now. It was a free massage for you, anyway.

Bucky bit his lip and looked up at your face, still peacefully dreaming. He leaned closer to your stomach and repeated his earlier confession. ‘I love you.’

Kick.

Bucky shot up from his spot on the bed and covered his mouth, a loud laugh accidentally escaping and startling you awake.

‘W-What?’

‘They kicked! They kicked!’

‘Seriously?’

Bucky was shooting through the stars, because even though it was a long shot, he felt like somehow Steve was telling him he loved him back.

Sam’s leg bounced madly as he watched the doctor slick up the generator. You repeatedly tried to calm him, tell him that it would be quick and simple, and there was nothing to be worried about.

You were six months now. Belly now protruding to the point where you could only see the tips of your toes when you glanced downward, and the baby was positioned farther into your back. If anything, you were having a giant freaking baby. He was a product of a super soldier.

You remembered having that scary conversation with the doctors, your whole family beside you as they heard and relayed the information.

‘Your baby is perfectly healthy. The serum isn’t affecting it. His lungs are forming less quickly than the other organs but there’s no serious worry.’

Bucky had literally cackled at that, confusing everyone in the room. ‘Steve and his shit lungs.’

But now you were finding out the sex. Only one person was allowed in the room this time, and Sam had literally begged you with his eyes to choose him.

‘Are you two ready?’

You each nodded at the doctor, waiting for the monitor to spring to life. After a few seconds, the heartbeat was detected. You gripped Sam’s hand in yours, a quiet ‘thank god’ passing through his lips.

Then the giant image of a literal baby appeared on the screen. It was so surreal. It resembled a quick sketch, like one Steve would have casually drew, and you couldn’t help but imagine him drawing that very image from memory.

‘Y/N, I-’ Sam cleared his throat, smiling at you.

‘Would you like to know the sex of the baby?’

‘Yes, please,’ you answered, gripping Sam’s hand harder.

The doctor moved the generator a few times more, hitting the spacebar on the computer to capture the image. ‘Congratulations, you’re having a boy.’

You shuttered a tiny laugh as Sam flew out of his seat, arms extended upward for a moment before he brought his hands down to kiss them over and over.

‘I’ll print this out for you,’ the doctor smiled, leaving you and Sam to celebrate.

Everyone had gathered later that night to find out the news. You had printed enough copies for everyone who wanted one. Bets were placed, a multitude of gifts already mounted in online shopping carts.

‘Don’t keep us waiting!’ Rhodey shouted, champagne bottle at the ready and propped up on his thigh for when you made your announcement.

Sam was standing beside you, a massive grin plastered on his face. You rolled your eyes at him and urged him on, telling him that you were fine with him saying it. Sam didn’t need to be told twice.

‘It’s a boy!’

Pop! Drinks were poured and hugs were shared, with even Friday coming over the monitor to congratulate you.

Even in the midst of all the excitement, you felt a little empty. But you enjoyed your pre-baby shower, happy that everything was so unbelievably working out.

It was midnight when you alerted Friday to call Happy to your room. You needed a ride.

Happy was slightly irritated at being woken up, but once you told him where you were heading, he obliged. The ride was silent, comfortable, with Happy glancing at you once in a while to make sure you were okay.

You walked across the grass slowly, hands resting on your stomach and just a little waddle in your walk. You flashed your phone light over the headstones even though the headstone you were looking for was in a secluded area. Happy trailed you, keeping a respectable distance.

You stopped in front of the small building, the fence somewhat blocking your path. But there was no security around, and even if you were caught on camera, your face let everyone know who you were and your connection to Steve. You had no worries.

You broke the lock easily and opened the door. It was almost entirely marble, a good deal of Steve’s actual aesthetic. So simple, not overly patriotic, and secluded. He had refused to be buried in Arlington.

You sat on the bench provided, the three names in front of you standing out like they were begging to be read out loud. So you complied.

‘Sarah,’ you muttered, smiling as the name rolled off your tongue. ‘Thank you for sending everyone a literal angel.’

You muttered his father’s name as well, but felt no personal connection to it. You spent at least ten minutes building up the courage to utter his name, to say his name in front of him again. He was buried right underneath your feet, his name the only thing for you to see.

‘Steve,’ you sighed and rubbed your stomach. ‘Steve.’

You sobbed silently and watched as the tears fell on top of your resting hands. ‘I don’t regret it.’

You were met with silence. ‘I don’t regret any of it. God knows why he did this. But you lived your life, and I just can’t believe I have to bring life into this world without you here.’

‘It’s a boy, Steve. A lovely little boy.’

You brought your hand up to your mouth to bite the side of it, throat clenching. ‘Everyone is so happy. I am, too. I promise you.’

You lowered your hand back to your stomach. ‘I just wish that you could feel that happiness.’

The moonlight moved slightly, shining on his name brighter now. ‘He’ll know about you, don’t worry about that.’ You laughed.

You didn’t want to keep Happy waiting. You stood from the bench slowly, feet sore. You walked closer to him, wishing you could easily bend down and give him a kiss. But you physically couldn’t right now, so you blew him one instead. ‘Thank you.’

Somehow the rumor got out that an Avenger was pregnant. And when Wanda was seen outside without a large stomach, all fingers were pointed at you.

The news went ballistic, most positive and raving, while others pondered just who had gotten you pregnant. You had been seen with everyone in paparazzi photos, so no actual conclusion had been made.

Until a picture of you at Steve’s gravesite was leaked.

It was constant bombardment, timelines were stitched together, magazines and their headlines were having a field day. Rhodey had tried to cancel these news stories, to threaten lawsuits, but to no avail. The world was now cursing Steve’s name - ‘how dare he leave her while pregnant?’, ‘how could he leave her pregnant and for another woman?’, ‘did he even know?’

The team had done everything in their power to try and clear yours and Steve’s name, but no one was having it. Steve’s love story was now tarnished, with many calling him a traitor and a deadbeat. It was no use.

You struggled to climb the stairs, inwardly cursing the staff for not installing a ramp instead. The flashes were blinding, the lights were hot, and the various microphones placed on the stand were comical.

Everyone hushed, looks of sympathy and pity slapping you in the face.

‘I know what you’re all thinking and what you’ve all been saying,’ you started, eyes wandering to the far corner of the room where your team were huddled. ‘But I need to clear a few things up.’

‘Steve didn’t know.’

The crowd erupted, questions flying at you like fast bullets. They were silenced after a few moments. ‘We shared a moment with each other before we brought everyone back. I didn’t know I was pregnant until after his funeral.’

The crowd murmured amongst each other. ‘He told me he was planning to stay in another timeline. To live his life. I encouraged him. He did not leave me alone and pregnant. He truly didn’t know.’

You finished, they didn’t deserve a deeper explanation. You ignored their calls for questions, some even trying to crowd you at the doors. But you pushed through them, cradling your stomach with a newfound sense of pride.

It was time.

You sat up in your bed and quickly wiped away the hard crusts from the corners of your eyes. You sat there for a few seconds before you felt another harsh twinge. ‘A-ah!’

You didn’t know why you paused, legs now thrown over the side of the bed. They felt like menstrual cramps, it could be false labor. You let out a heavy breath and pushed yourself up, legs wobbly. But the moment you did, it was like something snapped. Your legs were wet and a tiny puddle had started forming on the floor.

‘Friday!’

The lights in your room turned on immediately, ‘Y/N, is it time?’

You moaned at the uncomfortable cramping, ‘Yeah, I think it is.’

‘I’m waking and alerting the team right now, Y/N. Sit back down, please.’

You listened to Friday, sitting at the edge of your bed for a few moments before you realized you had to pack a bag. You shuffled across your room and grabbed the duffel bag Scott had left for you a few days ago. You packed a pair of socks, sweats, underwear, vaseline and your toothbrush, hairbrush, and phone. You zipped your bag just in time for both Bucky and Sam to throw open your door, Sam struggling to put his shoes on and Bucky slipping on a jacket inside-out.

‘Y/N, is it really time? Are you ready? Are you okay?’

You ignored the cramping in your back and laughed at them, ‘Yes! My water broke, I’m in pain, it’s time.’

With both Sam and Bucky at your sides, they held onto you as you all stumbled down the hallway. Thor was already waiting with the elevator open, the biggest smile on his aging face.

‘Wanda and Bruce are preparing the room. Scott already called the doctor. Clint’s in route,’ Bucky reassured. The three men huddled into the elevator with you, all instructing you to breathe and to squeeze them if you needed to.

But even though you were in pain, albeit not as extreme as it was going to inevitably get, you were so incredibly happy. They were all so loud, so chaotic, and you were as calm as a cucumber.

The elevator dinged. ‘Good luck, Y/N,’ you heard Friday call after you. You pinched your eyes closed, the thought that Friday was ultimately a part of Tony’s consciousness - Tony was wishing you good luck.

The pressure in your hips was starting to build and you didn’t know how long this would actually take. Some people had quick births, some people lay in labor for hours, some for a day. But it seemed like this was going to be pretty quick, because your next scream was completely involuntarily.

Bucky winced, leading you to the bed Wanda had just lay sheets on. ‘You’re doing great, Y/N. Absolutely perfect.’

You laughed at Bucky and gripped his hand in silent thanks before slipping into the bed and trying to get comfortable. Before you could truly feel like you made it, like the first hard step was done, you sat up quickly.

‘Wait, wait! Nat’s sweater! I was gonna wear Nat’s sweater!’

Thor was already out the door, ‘I’ll get it! Don’t worry!’

You smiled at the ceiling, beads of sweat now rolling down your forehead. ‘Oh, this hurts!’

It was an hour. Once you shimmied into Natasha’s purple knitted sweater, you lay there trying to control your breathing. Everyone had piled into the room one right after the other. The room was big enough, spacious enough for even Bruce to roam freely. Although you were in an immense amount of pain, you still focused on your team.

Scott was on his third cup of coffee, sipping excitedly as he conversed with the others. Bruce was constantly checking your vitals and wanting everything the doctor was saying repeated. Wanda was beside you, a hand gripping yours and the other running ice chips along your lips. Bucky was on your other bedside wearing one of Steve’s sweatshirts because it still smelled like him. His logic was that if he was wearing something of Steve’s the first moment he held your baby, then the first thing he smelled would be the remnants of his father.

And Thor was practically speechless, silent in his own little corner and feeling like the god’s really did bless everyone in this room after such turmoil.

Clint arrived with Peter trailing behind him just when the doctor instructed you sit up - you were at ten centimeters.

‘You gotta push, Y/N! You gotta push when the doctor says push!’

You yelled until your lungs gave out, head almost rolling back but Sam held it in his palm. ‘C’mon, Y/N! You’re doing great!’

You usually had perfect pitch when you sang, never faltering when it was time to hit a high note. But your voice was cracking at the most unusual times, throat rubbed raw as you felt your hips splinter open.

‘He’s crowning!’

Wanda traded places with Sam real quick, deciding that she wanted to see the baby when he was finally out. Bucky had a death grip on your hand, tears flowing freely and a smile to match Thor’s.

‘Push, Y/N! Push!’

‘I’m-I’m! I’m sorry! I can’t!’

The doctor was working her hands around the head, trying to ease the baby out easier. ‘Trust me, Y/N. One more big push and the shoulders will be out. That’s the hardest part.’

The doctor’s words were starting to drown out, and your head lolled back again. You felt tiny smacks on your cheeks, ‘C’mon, Y/N. You can do this. Everyone believes in you. You’re so goddamn strong, Y/N!’

That was Bucky’s voice. Bucky.

You opened your eyes, delirious for a second. ‘Steve?’

Bucky whimpered and nodded, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing kisses all over. ‘He’s here. I feel him, Y/N. You can do this.’

And you could feel him. You could see your family but you could feel him. It was so light, like a gentle whisk across the cheek, a promise that this truly was a miracle.

You screamed as you pushed under doctor’s orders, feeling numb and abused but satisfied. His shoulders slipped out and along with them came his arms and torso, legs and all ten toes. The doctor caught him quickly, lifting him up vertically to let you see him. He was already crying.

‘He’s here!’

You sobbed and smiled widely, laughter rattling your chest as the team bombarded you with quick hugs. Sam remained at your side, his eyes motioning for Bucky to go see the baby.

‘Who’s cutting the cord?’

You looked around the room but you knew. You answered the doctor’s question. ‘Bucky.’

Bucky was truly confused. Not because of your decision, but because he couldn’t possibly be worthy of this. His hands, those hands that had killed so many people involuntarily, had almost killed Steve, those hands were now gripping a pair of medical scissors to cut the symbolization of new life entering the world. He turned to you for permission one last time, before he gripped the cord in his hand and cut where the doctor pointed.

His shoulders felt a million times lighter. Like he was set free all over again.

They cleaned the baby up quickly and swaddled him. The doctor placed him in your arms, all warm and utterly safe, to look back up at you with the same blue eyes as his father.

You sobbed happily, brushing your fingers delicately along his pink cheek. ‘Hi. Hi there.’

He was no longer crying, just staring up in pure astonishment at the various faces staring back at him.

‘Y/N, he’s beautiful,’ Clint said, tissue already in hand.

‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ you spoke softly.

‘Do we have a name?’

It was like everyone said it in unison. ‘Steve.’

You snuggled into the bed and Natasha’s sweater, somewhat aware of the doctor still fixing you up down there. You would try feeding later, but for now your newborn needed to be passed around the group and be awed at.

You carefully guided him to Bucky, holding his head gently in your palm. Bucky took him, arms instinctively curling in the correct position. Once Bucky had him in his arms, it was like everything that happened in the world was worth it. Absolutely everything.

Bucky watched in fascination as the baby curled deeper in his chest, little fist clutching Steve’s sweatshirt. He took the sweetest little intake of air…

xxMoni

#steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #angst fanfic #happy ending #avengers x you #captainsimagines #platonic relationships #pregnancy fanfic #marvel fanfiction #by Moni #one shot #avengers oneshot #trigger warnings listed

386 notes · View notes

samstree · 3 years

Note

for the drabble thing: “you weren’t there”

maybe post mountain geraskier? i’m in an angsty mood rn but whatever you wanna write will be good :)

Creatures of the Night (2)

It's the night of Jaskier and Valdo's wedding. Geralt needs to do something.

(endgame geraskier, background valdo/jaskier, angst, infidelity)

Previous | AO3

The Oxenfurt Observatory might just be the grandest building in Redania.

The great hall is decorated with countless flowers and candles, giving the ancient walls a soft glow. Through the tall glass ceiling, stars are shining in the clear night sky, the perfect weather for a wedding.

It must be Jaskier’s idea, to be handfasted at midnight, to have his guests slow-dance under the moon and the stars until dawn breaks. Their new life will begin when the candles burn out and the first ray of light spills into the room.

If only there’s a competition for the biggest romantic on the continent. Jaskier could win without breaking a sweat.

The room is being filled up with guests—mostly bards and professors, old schoolmates of the two grooms. After all, both Valdo and Jaskier are Oxenfurt’s children, which means everyone is dressed in the most colorful clothes one could imagine. In another word, the room is being filled up with Jaskiers, and it’s getting loud.

It’s more difficult to locate the bard himself through the din of the room, but Geralt hears him, unmistakably. Jaskier’s heartbeat approaches the Observatory, thrumming with nervousness.

No more nervous than Geralt.

He breathes in, and exits the room in a few strides. And there Jaskier is, surrounded by pale moonlight, with jasmine flowers braided into his hair and pure joy painted across his cheeks. He seems to be murmuring a private joke to Essi, and they both burst into strings of giggles.

Geralt almost backs out.

“Geralt!” Jaskier notices him. “You came! I was worried for a moment.”

“Of course.” Geralt gestures to the outfit he helped pick out. “You look nice.”

“Thank you. Now, Poppet, can you give us a few moments?” Jaskier sends Essi inside with the sweetest smile. She shoulders past Geralt a little too curtly. There’s always an air of wariness whenever Essi regards Geralt, an untrusting side-eye here and there.

“Don’t mind her.” Jaskier waves when they are left alone. “Little Eye is a tad too protective. She’ll get over it.”

“Hmm.” Geralt swallows hard. “Can we find somewhere more private? I want to talk to you.”

Jaskier blinks, but leads them away anyway until they are by the side of the road, the celebrating crowd and the orange glow of candlelight in the distance.

“Here to make sure I end up someone else’s problem, aren’t you? Don’t worry, in about half an hour, I will be legally required to only bother Valdo for the rest of eternity.” Jaskier nudges Geralt in the shoulder, a jasmine slipping by his ear.

Geralt rights it without thinking, his fingers trembling.

Gods, he can’t say it. He can’t. Jaskier is so happy and Geralt will only ruin their friendship. His second chance is too precious to be risked—

“No, actually,” Geralt heaves out a breath, his heart pounding. “The opposite."

Jaskier snorts, “And, my dear witcher, what is the opposite?”

Here it goes.

“I am in love with you.”

The words sink into the silence. Geralt’s world narrows down to the steady rise and fall of Jaskier’s chest and the little hitch in his breathing. In the darkness of the night, Jaskier’s eyes stay in the shadows, his emotions obscured.

“No, you are not.” When he finally answers, it comes out in a snort. “Ha! A good one, Geralt! And they say witchers don’t have a sense of humor, idiots!”

Jaskier lets out another dry laugh, although the waver in his voice betrays everything.

“I am,” Geralt stresses again, “in love with you, Jaskier.”

Jaskier is staring, the upturn of his lips freezing into shock, the rise and fall of his chest picking up into a frenzy and suddenly he’s breathing too fast. “You can’t. You just can’t…” Air seems to trap in his lungs and a salty tang of tears hits Geralt full-force.

“I wish I couldn’t love, like what they say, but Jaskier, I can and I do—”

“You can’t do this to me!” Jaskier shouts, crying openly. “No, no! You don’t get to tell me this now! We had twenty years…”

Geralt wants more than anything in the world to pull Jaskier into his arms and wipe away the tears, but the space between them is too great. “I didn’t know for twenty years, Jask. Forgive me. It was only after the mountain that I learned how important you were to me. I couldn’t go on like this—”

“The mountain?” Jaskier chokes out a whimper. “You realized after the mountain? You mean when I bared my heart to you and you stomped on it like it was nothing?”

Geralt shakes his head, the guilt constricting his chest. “I’m sorry. For all the pain I caused you.”

“For months I thought I was but a mistake to you, that you hated me for two decades and couldn’t wait to cast me aside like dirt stuck on your shoes. Do you even know… Geralt, do you have an ounce of idea what I went through?”

Jaskier sways and Geralt catches him in his arms, placing his head on his shoulders and feeling the uncontrollable shakes running down Jaskier’s spine. The sight of Jaskier hurt because of him, again, pains Geralt more than any monster’s claws or talons.

“I love you, Jaskier,” he vows. “You were never nothing to me. You are everything. I was an idiot. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Jaskier struggles and swats at his shoulders and Geralt takes it all the while murmuring more sweet nothings into his ear. Finally, when Jaskier calms down, it’s with another whimper. “You are an idiot.”

“I am.” Geralt cradles the nape of Jaskier’s neck, running his thumb in circles, soothing the last of the trembling away. “Just one word from you, Jask, I can take you away. You don’t have to marry him. Just give me the word and I’m yours. Gods, I’ve waited for so long for this day. At last, I’m sure of my heart, just as I’m sure of yours.”

He buries into Jaskier’s hair and inhales the grief and the flowers, and something that is distinctly Jaskier, expecting a whispered plea. Just one word from Jaskier and they can start their new life together.

What he doesn’t expect is the way Jaskier goes stiff in his arms and the hand that pushes him away.

The soft moonlight catches a glint in Jaskier’s eyes, and it speaks of determination. “Valdo,” he says, as if in a dream.

“You don’t have to marry him. We can lea—”

“Valdo will be here soon.” Jaskier sniffles and wipes at his tears frantically. His whole face is puffy from crying and there’s no way he can hide it. “It’s almost midnight.”

Geralt’s world comes to a stop.

“What?”

“Get inside, and don’t say anything about this.”

“I don’t understand. Jask, you don’t need to go through this anymore. I’ll give you anything you ask. Just say the words, please,” he begs for the first time in a century, catching Jaskier’s hand.

“I am saying it. Get inside. Sit in the back row and don’t speak to me. Valdo might be able to tell.” With a few deep breaths, Jaskier school his features back to neutral. “Only the gods know how he can read me like an open book.”

Geralt’s blood runs cold. “Do you love him?”

The anguish by the corner of Jaskier’s lips says everything. It remains as he smiles a crooked smile. “He loves me. Oh, Geralt, he loves me. I can’t hurt him like this.”

“I thought,” Geralt looks down in shame. “I thought I knew your heart.”

“I thought I did too.”

“Then why?”

“You weren’t there,” Jaskier shrugs like it’s the easiest explanation. “He was.”

Despite every cell in Geralt’s body screaming against it, he nods and lets go of Jaskier’s hand, allowing his limp fingers to slip from his grasp at last.

Jaskier has asked it of him after all.

He doesn’t know how he got back into the crowd, the warm light only a blur in his vision. Another group is stopping near the hall, among them is the other groom-to-be. Valdo’s worried voice when he sees Jaskier is another blow to Geralt’s chest.

“Oh, Julian, are you crying?”

“Just…too happy.”

There’s the sound of kissing, and Geralt can’t tune it out. He laughs at himself for the masochistic tendencies, but maybe he deserves the torture.

“No more tears. Let’s get married, my love.”

The guests settle, and the music begins.

The happy couple walks towards the altar in the witness of family and friends, and Geralt watches every moment of it.

If the smile on Jaskier’s face is a bit strained as the priest ties the ribbon, no one seems to notice.

---

A big thanks to anon for the prompt! I asked for some one-word or one-sentence prompts and the next thing I knew they were connecting into a whole story.

Each chapter of this story will be based on a prompt, so send in one if you want to steer it in certain directions ;)

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #angst #background valdo/jaskier #geralt x jaskier #weddnings #unrequited love #requited unrequited love #valdo marx #endgame geraskier #ignore the fact that glass ceilings weren't a thing back then #also 'Oxenfurt Observatory' looks so nice

80 notes · View notes

wish-that-i-was-buckys-girl · 3 years

Note

Hi! How are you!? Hope you're good 😁 Could I request a BuckyxFem!Reader oneshot? ❤️

A mission goes wrong. The reader and Bucky are trapped in a cell surrounded by several HYDRA agents. One of them says the keywords to activate the Winter Soldier just at the moment when Steve and Tony appear to help them, they fight against Bucky trying to make him the same again until a scream takes him out of that personality: the reader is wounded, wanting to protect him from another HYDRA agent getting in the way of the bullet. Bucky becomes him again and takes the reader in his arms to return to the quinjet.

Maybe lots of angst and fluffy ending with them confessing eachothers love at the hq?

Thank you so much!!!!!!! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

A/N: Hi guys! Wow it’s great to be back and free from college stress. I received this request two months ago, and again I am so sorry it took this long for me to make it, but writing academic papers had absolutely kicked my ass this past semester. This ask obviously takes place where Bucky has not been to Wakanda yet to get his trigger words removed. I hope you guys enjoy! I am a little rusty, and not sure if I should write from the first person perspective or third person perspective for Y/N fanfictions so let me know what you guys prefer. Happy Summer!

Pairings: Bucky x female!Reader

Warnings: Talks of blood, gun violence. Other than that I don’t think there is anything else.

Word Count: 2.5k

You’re My Endgame

The floor was cold. It’s not like you haven’t endured worse, but the concrete you had been resting your head on was less than inviting. Your body was rigid due to the freezing temperatures and the uncomfortable position you curled your body into. The HYDRA facility you had been captured at was in Lithuania, Bucky promised he knew it like the back of his hand. Things had changed since his work and internal torment as the Winter Soldier, something he wasn’t expecting due to lack of funds on their part. Unfortunately, no one could’ve predicted there were spies in SHIELD funneling crazy amounts of money into new buildings and updating new HYDRA facilities and weapons.

You decided to sit up and stretch your limbs. It had felt like weeks you were being held hostage, but in actuality it was only a day at most. The HYDRA agents kept you and Bucky busy with periodic torture. You’ve been kicked, punched, beaten into the ground even but neither of you talked. Bucky was more familiar with these torture treatments than anyone, but he focused all of his attention on you.

He was the first real friend you had made at the Avengers’ campus. He had trauma, you had trauma, one of the best bonding factors you had both concluded. He listened to stories of your abusive childhood, being trained by your father as his own personal assassin, and he would share whatever he was comfortable telling you. You never poked and prodded. You knew you were more open than most when it came to over sharing experiences. Talking helped some people, others not so much.

You stood up and shook out your arms and legs. Once you stopped, you assessed the bruises on each body part, counting how many had accumulated over the canvas that was your skin. 48 in total. A new record.

You looked over at Bucky to see he was lying in a similar position to you, close enough that you were in arms reach but not too close that you were uncomfortable with his touch. You were both exhausted from the continuous torture, touching was not in anyone’s best interest at this point in time.

He groaned softly, beginning to stretch his limbs out as well. Trying to turn a horrible situation into a lighter occasion (as if that were possible), you cracked a joke in Bucky’s direction.

“Good morning sunshine, I see you decided to join me for our delicious gourmet breakfast” you gestured to nothing behind you on the concrete floor.

Bucky cracked a smile “Good thing I didn’t miss it, I’m starving” he joked back. You understood each other’s humor and personality so well.

“How’re you feeling Buck? I know they did a number on you after me” you looked down at him somberly.

He shook his head “Don’t worry about me. Show me your arms and legs. I wanna see how much they hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Buck I’m fine. I can hold my own just the same as you. We are trained for these situations.”

Bucky rolled his eyes back at you. “Did I ask if you were trained? No. In fact I didn’t ask you anything at all. Show me your goddamn body Y/N”

You didn’t want to stress him out anymore, so you just knelt down in front of him and started showing him your arms. He hovered over them, careful not to touch your delicate flesh. His phase was full of confusion, anger, and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He shook his head, not even wanting to see your legs if this is what your arms looked like. He didn’t want to upset himself even more, which would in turn make you upset.

“Lay back down Y/N. You need to rest, even if it is on concrete. We can’t have your pretty self looking like that when we get back to the compound now can we?” Bucky replied, trying to lighten the mood once again. It was worth a shot.

Bucky always told you you were pretty, never really thinking anything of it. Steve or Natasha was his endgame, and you respected that. You were best friends and best friends always complimented each other like that. You definitely didn’t need to make your relationship more complicated, even if you were desperately in love with him. You would keep those feelings locked down in the deepest crevices of your brain, unwilling to share with anyone.

You smiled towards Bucky, getting ready to sit back down when you heard the door to the basement unlock. You both winced at the sound, turning to look at each other with dread in your eyes.

Please dear god no more. We can’t take anymore.

You wanted to keep Bucky safe from HYDRA’s wrath, and he wanted to do the same for you. Given the circumstances however, it was near impossible. Bucky felt helpless that he couldn’t properly protect you against their torture, only adding to his mental torment. He was in pure agony, and hearing that door again made him want to scream out to a higher power he didn’t believe in.

“Rise and shine dirtbags, we have a new surprise for you today” the first HYDRA agent said with a small smirk on his face.

You had no idea what they had in store for you today, always expecting the worst. You definitely were not prepared for what they were planning to do to you today.

“You, girl, have you ever met those they call the Winter Soldier?” the second HYDRA agent asked.

You had no idea what he was talking about, honestly thinking he was talking about Bucky. You knew he had been called the Winter Soldier in the past, but Bucky never shared much of his trauma. You didn’t know to the full extent what he was capable of, he never wanted you to know what he was capable of. In response, you nodded with a confused look on your face.

Bucky, however, knew exactly what he was talking about. His heart felt like it had dropped to his stomach, unable to prepare for what was about to happen. He started shaking his head furiously, begging softly. “Please, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything, just please don’t do this. Not with her.” You could see the pain in his eyes.

A third HYDRA agent strutted into the room, just as smug as the other two. He was holding a red book with a black star on it. You thought it was just a log of what torture they had performed on you, but it was much more sinister based off of Bucky backing up into the far corner of the room with absolute dread in his eyes. That’s when the third HYDRA agent started to speak.

“Longing, rusted, seventeen.” Your confusion only grew as the HYDRA agent spoke these words, but your confusion slowly faded as concern took over. You looked over to Bucky who was squinting his eyes as he hugged his rigid body. He was whispering “No, no god please no, please stop.”

You walked over to him gently, crouching. “Bucky? Bucky what’s wrong..”

The second HYDRA agent took the book from the third, continuing reciting the words “Daybreak, furnace, nine.” Everyone’s smile grew wider except yours and Bucky’s. He was starting to shake from fear and anger, knowing what was about to happen. Bucky screamed at you, something he had never done before in his life. “Y/N, get away from me. Just stay away!”

You were a strong woman, never faltering during a mission, especially in times of crisis, but you felt like curling up into a ball and crying. You were worried, disoriented, and even worse, you couldn't do a damn thing about it. The words kept flowing from the HYDRA agents’ mouths.

“Benign, homecoming, one” the HYDRA agents spouted in unison. Bucky was screaming in pain. You couldn't bear to look at him, tears streaming down your face as you heard his agony. This was far worse than any torture inflicted on you yet.

Then, the final word was spoken.

“Freight Car”

Bucky’s eyes shot wide open. His rigid body remained the same, only beginning to stand instead of hugging himself in the fetal position. That’s when he spoke.

“готов подчиниться”

You understood the meaning, but didn't understand what your best friend had become. That’s when an explosion behind the three HYDRA agents erupted, causing everyone to become disoriented.

Debris had been blown everywhere, dust clouding your vision and settling all around you. You didn’t see Bucky, you didn’t see the HYDRA agents. All you could see was a glow. It came from beyond where the explosion came from. You began squinting, trying to identify what was heading in your direction. That’s when you began to see flashes of the one and only “Hot Rod” red, along with the Star Spangled Man with a Plan. Although you wanted to smile at your rescue, your thoughts were all encompassed by Bucky. You hadn't known what happened to him, only knowing he was in extreme pain, now missing. You yelled out to Tony and Steve.

“Over here!! I’m over here. Do you guys see Bucky??”

That’s when you heard a shift in the rubble, only a few short feet from where you were lying. A metal arm had popped out of the ground, reminiscent of the scene in the Evil Dead.

Thank God. At least I know where he is.

You worked slowly over to where he had appeared out of the ground. You began removing the stones off of his body with vigor. You could finally see his face and somewhat of his body, calling out his name.

“Bucky? Bucky tell me if you’re hurt. Bucky please talk to me. You’re scaring me”

His expression remained blank, awaiting orders from whoever was willing to give them first.

That’s when you heard the faint commands of a fallen HYDRA agent, determined to finish his job.

“Attack”

Bucky’s reaction was immediate. He grabbed your throat with force, causing you to claw at his metal arm with what little energy you had left. Gasping and kicking your feet as he held you in the air, you tried calling out to him. This was your best friend, surely he had to recognize you. That’s when Steve threw his shield directly at Bucky’s legs, causing him to loosen his grip on your neck.

You fell to the ground coughing, your body begging for air as you inhaled so sharply you thought your chest would explode. Your coughing didn’t stop for a few seconds, only being brought back from reality when you heard the clash of vibranium on vibranium. You looked up to see Steve and Bucky fighting, Steve screaming “Buck! Buck it’s us!”

Bucky replied with angry grunts, not understanding anything but his commands. While Steve and Bucky fought, Tony was busy securing the area, taking out other HYDRA agents who had flooded the scene. You didn’t know what to do, but you knew Bucky was your top priority. You called out to him several times, hoping he would realize it was you. Your cries fell on deaf ears, however, as he continued to fight Steve with all of his might.

You quickly glanced at everything going on, that’s when you noticed a HYDRA agent Tony had missed while fending them off. He was holding a loaded pistol, directly in Steve and Bucky’s direction. Before you could truly process what was going on, you heard the gunshot go off. At this point you weren’t too far away from them, sprinting in their direction to protect them from the bullet. You launched yourself in their direction, screaming in pain as your body was pushed to it’s limits already in pain. As you fell to the ground, you barely noticed the bullet had entered your right shoulder. Figuring the pain was from landing on sharp stones, you groaned loudly.

As soon as you screamed, Bucky was ripped from his Winter Soldier persona and back into reality. However, Steve didn't see his realization, landing a punch straight to Bucky’s jaw, sending him staggering back. Both Steve and Bucky turned their attention to you, lying on the ground and bleeding everywhere. Bucky, who couldn’t care less about the fact that he just got punched in the face, moved over to your body with haste.

He looked down at you softly, covered in dirt and blood. His heart wretched in his chest, knowing all of this could’ve been avoided if he just double checked the layouts of the base before invading the building for their mission. “Y/N? Y/N sweetheart talk to me please” he said as he picked your head up gently to lay in his lap. You coughed up a little spittle of blood as you turned to look at him with tenderness in your eyes.

“Bucky? Is, is it you?”

He smiled down at you, with tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Yes sweetheart, it’s me. Just hang in there for me okay? We’re gonna get you to the quinjet. It’s gonna be okay.” You could hear the cracks in his voice as he spoke to you, but couldn't focus on it for too long. Both your vision and your hearing were starting to waver, going in and out as the chaos ensued around you.

The last words you remembered hearing before everything went back was Bucky’s voice.

“Don’t leave me now sweet girl, I need you. Please don’t go, you’re it for me.”

He continued talking, but lost consciousness as he spoke. Everything was dark.

_______________________________________________________________________

You woke up, looking at an absolutely blinding light. You squinted as you opened your eyes, not fully able to open them completely thanks to the mini sun above your head.

You began to move your limbs, realizing that someone was holding your left hand. You looked over to see Bucky, sitting with you in the quinjet infirmary, his head hung low and gentle sobs escaping his mouth.

You spoke up softly, unable to speak at a normal tone.

“Bucky?”

Bucky picked up his head, eyes puffy and red from the crying, not expecting you to be awake so soon after how much blood you had lost.

“Y/N? Oh god, oh sweetheart” he stood up and kissed your forehead, not wanting to move your body by embracing you with a hug.

You smiled up at him as he hovered above your face, taking in your beauty.

He spoke with a quiver in his voice.

“I, I thought I’d lost you. All because I was a fucking idiot who couldn't do my job before the mission, Y/N I am so sorry, I don’t, I never wanted you to see me that way. I’m so stupid, I’m-” you stopped Bucky from continuing his pity party by raising your left hand to his lips, shushing him with one finger.

You gently removed your hand and lifted your head slightly to meet his lips with yours. You both closed your eyes as your lips met, savoring how delicious you both tasted, even post mission. You deepened the kiss slightly, angling your head so you both had more access to each other’s mouths. You held the kiss for what seemed like forever, finally decided to pull away softly.

Staring into his beautiful ocean blue eyes, smiling up at him while holding the back of his head, you spoke softly “You are Bucky Barnes, and you’re my endgame.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan characters

172 notes · View notes

kallypsowrites · 3 years

Note

Ok serious question you seem like the best person to ask ( love your blog and your fics btw you got me reading GOT fics when I wanna purge that show from my mind) because you're sort of optimistic but also realistic I think. What do you think we're going to get in S2 in terms of darklina I'm bouncing like a ping pong ball between thinking on the one hand they wrote everything before seeing just how popular it is and leigh was involved and they're building the other ship so how are they gonna give us darklina at the same time but also Ben only signed on bc they promised him a lot of involvement but he spends most of the second book removed from all of them so how are they gonna do that. I need to manage my expectations so in a year or a year and a half when the show comes out I don't get depressed when they give me nothing 🤣. Thank you for your service.

Oh wow! First off, I'm glad you read some of my GoT fics despite being burned by the show (same).

Secondly, I'm definitely an optimistic realist when it comes to Darklina. So I'll break it down for you:

1. We will get a lot more Darklina moments. The show knows, at the very least, that Darklina is the most popular ship. it does numbers every time. For over a month, the last post sitting on the official twitter was a pic of the actors. Even if its not endgame, they'll continue to give them moments with each other because that is the major draw of the show. Yes they wrote the scripts before seeing but TV scripts NEVER stay at the first draft. The studio orders changes. They make edits. TV shows live by appealing to an audience. They fear constant cancelation, especially on Netflix. So even if there wasn't enough Darklina in the initial drafts...they'll stick in more in edits.

2. Past that, as you said, Ben Barnes is one of the main draws and they got him on board with the idea he'd be involved a lot. Sure, he's not there for much of the plot HOWEVER he and Alina have their convenient telepathic bond which means they can bring him in regularly and do a lot of juicy stuff with that. They'll also probably give him non book stuff to show what he's doing while he's not with our heroes which I'm tentatively excited about. Ben will do it justice.

3. Ben himself has always fought for the humanity of the character, and of all the actors, he probably has the most sway over the writing. So his nuance and the way he says the lines is gonna continue to be great.

4. I don't think they're going to kill the Darkling in season 2. People have said that BUT unless they intend to end Alina and Mal's story in two season, I don't think it will happen. Remember that once the Darkling is dead, they're out too. And since there's a six of crows spin off being developed, we know the show doesn't have to rush to get to the Six of Crows content. So I think he's got a solid three seasons ahead of them, as they all do. And then the Crows get to go off an have their own thing (avoiding the curse of the post season 3 cancelation).

Like, do I think they'll actually give us Darklina endgame? No. Not a chance. But they will keep milking Darklina until the finish. They will let Ben give the character more consistency and humanity than he was allowed in the books. And there will be lots of delicious angst. And even if the Darkling's character does go more in the evil direction...Ben is so delicious when he's evil and consider the Lovers to enemies tension???

For actual Darklina endgame, fanfic is the way to go. I won't let myself hope in that. I just want them to continue lighting up that screen for long as the show lasts :)

#asks #lovely anons #darklina #the darkling #aleksander morozova #ben barnes #shadow and bone

76 notes · View notes

lokislittlesigyn · 3 years

Text

You and Me - Loki x Reader [Oneshot]

Part 2 of Sigyn’s Angst-to-Fluff Drabbles

Inspired by Cozy’s Fluff-to-Angst Fun and Games!

Pairing: Loki / Female reader

Warnings: Strong themes of depression and suicidal ideation/a near attempt. Mention of Infinity War and Endgame and all the things that happen there. Fluff awaits at the end.

Author’s Note: A nearly-impossible prompt to turn happy, but I tried my best without taking an easier route like “it was just a dream” etc! I wanted to give it my all. This is the most.. sensitive-topic fic I’ve posted here, so please, skip it or skim it if you need to. <3

@silver-lupines:

Ohohohohoho Loki’s permanent death and the reader is left as a widow. No resurrections.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You still remember it.

You’ll never forget.

Never.

The smell of the air. Thick smoke in your lungs. The colors. The sounds. Death, all around you. Permeating you. You begged for it to end.

He was not so kind.

No, He was not the kind type.

He killed half of every whole. And Loki - Loki had made you feel whole.

What were you now?

You were still a full person, but broken nonetheless. A ghost. Yes, you were a ghost of who you were before. You haunted your own body, desperate for it to stop. Stop aching, stop hurting, stop feeling - let you go, release you to the endlessness of whatever unexistence was, because any unknown it held was surely better than knowing Loki was gone.

You had lived five painfully long years without him. Your husband. The boy you’d known on Asgard, fallen in love with, married and loved and lived through the pain of losing. Twice.

No, thrice. But the third you had to watch.

You had to watch everything. Leg pinned under the rubble on the Statesman, no more than entertainment for the creatures around you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, unwilling witness to-

You couldn’t bear to think of it.

Sure, you weren’t completely alone. You had your remaining friends: the ones that were not also ripped from you, destroyed for the sake of an asinine plan that made you want to scream and cry and unleash all your anger on the monster who caused it.

You never got the chance.

The others fought. You joined, but you never were close enough to attack The One You Wanted. You were wounded early on. And now He was nothing. No more than dust.

But you felt more despair than comfort.

When the portals had opened, you’d turned, tears pricking your eyes as you scanned them. Loki would be there, you were sure of it. He’d find you. He had to. They knew what he meant to you - they knew to bring him back, too. You pushed through oncoming allies, looking for him. But with every new face you saw only made your heart sink further.

He wasn’t there.

He’d never be there again.

That realization dragged your hope away with it.

Now you’d made the preparations. Everything was laid out. You even left notes. Your friends would know it was nothing they’d done, because it wasn’t up to them. You didn’t blame anyone that was left. They hadn’t taken Loki from you, that Creature had. And carrying on without him? It was just all too much for you, now - you needed an escape.

But as soon as you closed the door of your room, intent on your next action, someone behind you spoke. With a jolt, you faced them.

“On behalf of the Time Variance Authority, I hereby charge you with crimes against the sacred timeline.”

You went agape. How did they get into your room? Officers of some sort, suddenly standing before you. A glowing orange door pulsated behind them.

This had to be a dream. Yes, you must be dreaming. Your mind was cooking up something bizarre in a last-ditch effort to pull you back to the land of the living. Not that it would matter. The gleaming sword on your bed held promise. You just had to reach it.

“What?!” Was all you could manage. One of the people moved forward, hand outstretched- Now this, this you could do. Life on Asgard trained you for combat. You grabbed them, leveraging your body weight to flip them over. But the other agent swung, hitting you with a baton-

Time stopped.

Or, slowed, to the point that you felt as though you were frozen in place, yet you listened as the one officer brushed themselves off, grumbling about Asgardians, while the one who hit you secured something around your neck.

“Let’s get her back.”

As you were escorted through the door, you turned and growled in your throat, arm outstretched to grab your sword - but as soon as you were through the door, it closed.

~~~

The next minutes - hours? - were a blur. You were escorted through a strange place you didn’t recognize - you figured it must be the TVA your captors spoke of, whatever that was - but before you could ask any proper questions, you were tossed into a room. And another room. And another.

In fact, you had been to so many places that were all the same drab beige, and had your clothes removed and replaced with a horrific jumpsuit, you weren’t sure where you were until at last you were taken to a long room, flanked with booths. Down at the end of the room sat someone who was clearly a judge.

A trial. This was a trial.

So what in Odin’s name were you guilty of?

You were pushed onto a small podium, glaring up at your captor. You’d already tried to escape - but had been overpowered, the collar firmly around your neck offering no chance of liberation.

The woman before you, now clearly visible - or, part of her was, as most of her person was concealed behind the mountain of wood between you.

She was well-dressed. Professional. Her hair drawn back, her gaze stern. She looked like a leader, and practically radiated power.

But she was wrong. You were blameless. Why were you here?

“(Y/N) Lokiwife,” The judge spoke, gazing down her nose at you. “Or Leifdottir, if you prefer.”

Your glare didn’t waver.

She cleared her throat.

“You are charged with sequence violation seven-thirty forty-one. How do you plead?”

You sighed. “You must be mistaken. I have done nothing wrong.”

The judge tapped her pen against the paper below her.

“Are you guilty or not guilty?”

“Of a sequence violation, whatever that means? No. No, I am not. I was in my room, minding my own business, when your goons barged in and brought me here.” You clenched your jaw.

The judge smiled - a forced, strained sort of smile, where her teeth remained hidden behind her lips. You matched her expression with one just the same.

“Those goons, as you call them, were tasked with bringing a criminal,” She pointed the pen at you, “To justice. How. Do you. Plead?”

“Not guilty.” You hissed.

“I highly doubt-”

She was cut off by a new individual running over, whispering into her ear. The judge tensed. You saw her brow furrow, her jaw clench.

“Thank you.” Her voice was curt.

Silence hung over the courtroom as the other individual left.

The judge shook her head. “I sentence you as not guilty.” She took her gavel, pounding it in a swift, final motion.

Your breath caught in your chest. “Not guilty?”

“Yes, that’s what I said. Not guilty. I suppose this was all more for formality, anyway;” Renslayer motioned to the trial room and straightened a stack of papers, “You’re merely assurance.”

“Assurance for what exactly?”

“A mission.”

You felt like screaming. Everything was so vague, so mysterious - couldn’t they just let you go? Or else kill you and get it over with?

“Fantastic. Glad to know I can help your cause.” You sneered.

The judge raised a brow, then looked past you. “You’d better be right about this, Mobius.”

“Not to worry, I can handle it from here.”

A new voice sounded behind you. You whipped around to face it.

“Woah, hey there.” A man walked toward you, his hands raised. Wearing a suit - much like those you had seen on Midgard, yet somehow different - his short hair streaked silver, a mustache over his crooked-smile lips. Mobius. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“What do you want with me?” You glared, not moving from your place.

“Not one to trust easily. I get it. Listen, I’ve got someone you’ll want to see. But you need to trust me now, okay?”

He held his hands out, palms up. You looked at them. Then back at his face. His brows were raised, he seemed hopeful - expectant. You sighed through your nose, and took a wary step toward him.

“That’s better.” He looked at the judge, pointing at her. “I owe you one, Ravonna. I’m telling you - irreplaceable help, you gave today. Irreplaceable!”

The judge rolled her eyes, but a smile played on her lips.

Mobius turned to you. “Shall we?”

Your next journey was far more welcome. Mobius didn’t manhandle you, thank the Norns, though you did sense the eyes of surrounding agents on you. Agents, dressed in the same black armor as those who had fetched you. You stared ahead, avoiding their gaze.

“Where is this place?” Finally, you broke the silence.

“Where, not what?” Mobius answered, smirking.

“This is the TVA, whatever that means. But where is it?”

“You thinking of running away?”

You looked at him.

“Right. Of course you are.. Outside of space and time, if it matters.”

You raised a brow. “And I’m supposed to believe that?”

Mobius exhaled through his lips, chuckling softly. “Ideally, yeah.” The two of you walked through a corridor, apparently intent on a destination you had no idea about.

“Well- Well why am I here?” You stopped in your tracks. Mobius turned to face you, hands in his pockets. You continued, “The judge ruled me not guilty. Said I was assurance - assurance for what?”

“A mission.” Mobius spoke carefully. You narrowed your eyes.

“What?” He asked. “You weren’t exactly busy.”

“Actually, I was in the middle of something.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I was! I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be anywhere-” You stopped yourself. You felt heat rush to your eyes and nose, but forced yourself to swallow the knot in your throat. You couldn’t, wouldn’t break. Not here. Not in front of countless strangers.

You just wanted to go back to Loki, wherever he was. You didn’t care where.

Mobius watched you. “Come on, I think this will help.”

Giving him a look, you let your shoulders slump, then followed him. Felt your eyes go dull. When you reached a door flanked by two guards, which Mobius quickly dismissed, you straightened up.

Mobius turned to you. “Now, this is going to be a little weird, okay? But bear with me. Just, go with the process, laugh or cry or whatever you need. Got it?”

You stared at him. “I.. What are you even getting at? I told you, I don’t want to be here! I don’t want to be anywhere. I don’t want to be alive, I don’t care if it’s here, or on Earth, or anywhere else, I do not want it-”

Mobius sighed, placed his hand on the small of your back, and urged you into the room, shutting the door behind you. You gasped at the motion and moved to stop the door - but it shut with a resounding thud. Tears betrayed you, streaming down your face.

“Let me out!” You pounded your fist against the door, “I don’t want to be part of your sick game- Do you understand me? I have nothing to live for, nothing-”

“(Y/N)?” A quivering voice pulled you back to reality.

No, not just any voice.

That voice.

The voice you knew. The voice you missed.

You turned on the spot. Your body froze. There, before you, stood Loki.

“Loki?”

Loki rushed to you. You were frozen, staring up at him. Afraid to touch him. Afraid that if you dared to feel his embrace again he may disappear.

He looked familiar, but not the same as when you last saw him - thank the Norns for that.

No, he looked almost.. Younger? His hair was shorter, not so long nor so wavy as the tresses you remember playing with on the Statesman before He came.

And his clothes. The same as yours: a demeaning jumpsuit. They must’ve put him through all this, too.

What could he possibly be guilty of?

You looked at his face. Your vision, blurry, your body, shaking - you reached for him. He met you. His hand touched your face, cupping your cheek. You felt yourself sob without fully realizing, certainly not controlling it.

He was here. He was alive.

You broke. Melted into his touch, embracing him.

“My love.. Oh, my darling…” His arms enveloped you, his hand sliding to the back of your head, cradling it against his chest.

Your ear pressed to his body, you smiled past your tears, gripping his clothes as though he could disappear at any moment. But you could hear his heartbeat. You savored it, the rhythmic beat, which seemed to steady as you held him in turn. You wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“L-Loki, you.. You were gone,” your voice cracked, “You... He took you from me.”

“I know.” Loki kissed the top of your head, “I know, I saw it all.”

“You - what?”

Loki pulled away, gazing into your eyes, though never letting you go. He swallowed. “I saw it. All of it. My entire life, as it was, apparently, meant to be. I know what you had to endure.”

Tears formed in your eyes again.

“My love, I am so sorry.”

“N-No, I..” You cupped his face, hands stroking his cheeks. One of his hands found yours, and grasped it for him to press a kiss to your knuckles. You smiled. “I have you. You’re back, you’re alive, you…” You huffed a soft laugh and leaned in to kiss him. His lips met yours, and you could feel a tear from his cheek slide onto yours. He broke the kiss, pressing your foreheads together.

“I love you. I missed you terribly. Darling, I can’t express how good it is to see you,” he let himself grin, another tear squeezing out onto his cheek at the movement. He steadied himself, watching you with adoration shining in his eyes.

“I-I missed you too.. Norns, I.. I thought they would kill me or something.. I wished for it.” You swallowed.

Loki’s expression stayed composed, but you saw fear flash in his eyes. Pain. “I heard.”

“I.. I’m sorry-”

“No. You don’t have to apologize for that. It’s not your fault. Neither of us caused the pain we were put through, do you understand? And I am never leaving you again. Never.”

You stared into his eyes. Somehow, the surety with which he spoke seemed… Real.

He wasn’t leaving.

He’d never leave you again.

Silently, you nodded. “And I’ll never leave you.”

He smiled. “I know, my sweet. I know you never will. ”

You remained a moment, until the both of you calmed enough to part - now standing near each other, the tears ceasing.

You wiped the back of your hand across your cheek. “I can’t believe you’re real,” you joked, weakly, “You’re here.”

Loki smiled, letting out a small chuckle. He gave you another small, loving kiss.

“I’m here.”

#loki x reader #loki x reader angst #loki x reader fluff #loki x female reader #angst to fluff drabbles #tw suicidal thoughts #tw suicide attempt #tw depression

128 notes · View notes

alkalinefrog · 3 years

Note

may I request your top 10 favorie lawlight fics ?? I’m really interested

AIGHT BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUP because I’ve got a lot of feelings about these! Also, people have been asking me for fics featuring:

Ryuk shenanigans

yagami sibling hijinks

whammy kids found family

----- from my bingo card I made a while back. Tbh, I put those on the list to try and manifest the energy into the universe hoping people would bring fics to ME about them lmao. I do have a couple that check the boxes though!

Also thank you to everyone who’s been recommending me fics!! You’ve all hit the nail on the head and sing straight to my heart! I’m just slow to make my way through them between work. <3

GOING UNDER THE CUT (rip mobile users)

Aight here we go, in no particular order:

“Change OR the one where L and Light get married” by @translightyagami (I’m so sorry I keep tagging you in these alsfjkalsfdj)

The one I never shut up about and am adapting part of into a comic because it’s just that GOOD. :’’’D Light and L get married in front of Watari and Light’s family back at the Whammy orphanage in England. A melancholy yet painfully sweet tale as Light and L reminisce on their history together while getting ready for the ceremony, and their first night together afterwards. Single-handedly sold me on Kira being intrinsically part of Light to boot.

“the forest holds strange creatures” by @translightyagami (I’m sorryyyyyyy I just love your stuff)

An AU where Light’s a paranormal researcher and L’s a reclusive cryptid living in the forest next to a small town. The writing has a fairytale feel to it, and the romance is so gentle. Light’s bunking at Whammy’s small little house, and Near and Mello are there as little kids pestering Light. It’s ADORABLE. Beyond Birthday also shows up in one of the extra chapters as a creepy cashier at a thrift shop for double the fun!

"Sickness” by BlueberryValentine (more fics on their fanfiction.net account!)

The ultimate hurt/comfort + fluff + angst with a happy ending fic. The first fic I read to get back into lawlight a couple months back! Canon divergence starting during the Yotsuba arc. Light is diagnosed with terminal brain cancer while still under investigation. L has to take care of him, and somewhere along the way they fall in love. It carved out a chunk of my heart but luckily filled it back up with a sweet sort of aching.

“Seeking His Hand” by magic__mind

Historical regency AU! L is a rich nobleman courting Light, a humble farm boy, for his hand in marriage. One of the most romantic pieces of literature that I have ever come across. The prose is pure poetry, and their love so pure! This one also has a special place in my heart for its portrayal of Misa! She’s A)a spy who helps L on his cases, B)totally removed from her co-dependence for Light, C)the bubbly badass she was always meant to be. 100/10 worth the read!

The “Resurrections” Series by Shadow_of_Quill

A modern Orpheus and Euridice story, wherein Light’s spirit leads L back from Hades while he’s still Kira. L is thereby present for the confrontation at the warehouse. Believing that any trace of Light is lost in the man, he executes him right then and there. However, this was a grave mistake, and Light’s soul won’t be as easily revived. (spoilers, they’re both fine in the end) ******* THIS ONE ALSO INCLUDES YAGAMI SIBLING HIJINKS. Sayu plays a HUGE role in bringing Light back!

“Is This The Way It Ends Now?” by Seastar98

The one that checks off ALL the above three boxes!! A “characters watch their own show” fic, wherein the gang receives a mysterious DVD in the middle of the Yotsuba arc. Horrified by what’s to come, Light and L work to make sure their future is brighter than the one they witness. They bring in all three heirs to watch with ‘em, everyone gets character development, and Sayu comes in like black panther in endgame yet again to bring Light back from the darkness! Ryuk pops up in the end and the epilogue and he’s great. The ultimate and most direct fix-it you’re ever gonna get.

“From the Same Star” by Nilahxapiel

This is my only pure “Ryuk Shenanigans” fic, and it’s really really sad :’’’D A short but sweet one-shot wherein Ryuk traverses multiple dimensions, dropping the Death Note at Light’s feet each time. Light and L were always fated to clash, and it’s just as heartbreaking every time.

“Primitive Liars” by Nilahxapiel

This one’s super popular in the fandom for a reason! The only omegaverse fic that I’ve liked! The A/B/O dynamics and their affect on society are super well developed, and the writer manages to keep L and Light very in character while still developing their budding romance in a believable way. This is an AU where somebody else is Kira, and Light’s genuinely helping L and the task force hunt him down. ***** Naomi Misora lives, the heirs come in, and Sayu actually hops aboard the task force!!! DUDE. BRILLIANT. I also just love the exploration of gender and identity that the author weaves in. Lots of LGBTQ rep!

“and indeed there will be time” by lawlietismyfavorite

The ultimate soulmate AU. People grow to be 18, then stop aging until they meet their one. L is the greatest detective of not only this century, but of six centuries. And then there's Light. (taken straight from the description!) The prose is absolutely breathtaking; like walking through a dream. Can not recommend this fic enough! It’s got my head up in the clouds and looking towards the stars!

“K” by Dlvvanzor

AU where Light’s a Whammy with the moniker ‘K.’ He and L grow up together along with kiddos covering the rest of the alphabet. A murder-mystery-thriller on top of the romance featuring Beyond Birthday as a main character! Light’s a pathological liar and L’s super into it. They’re the top students at Whammy’s and are tasked with solving a string of homicides happening RIGHT AT THE ORPHANAGE (guess who dunnit). It had me on the edge of my seat, and I binged the whole thing in two days.

i’mMMMM doing more than 10, this’ll just be my ultimate fic rec post 😂

“Change of Circumstances” by wordbombs

Another AU where Light’s a whammy! It’s just a one-shot though, but one of my all time faves!!! I’ve gone back and reread it so many times and drew some stuff for it a couple weeks back. Much more light-hearted than “K”, Light arrives at the orphanage at age four and meets an eleven year old L, and from there they grow up together and fall in love (the age difference is handled really well, L’s not physically present for a lot of Light’s childhood and they bond on a platonic level first). It’s one of the healthiest relationship dynamics that I’ve seen for these two, which is honestly such a breath of fresh air. Matt, Mello, and Near are there too in the background!

“Dial K for Kira” by @kiranatrix

“Light needs some easy money to finance his Kira plans, and notices there’s a big demand for Kira roleplay phone sex. So he figures, “Why not? Pretty sure I’ll be convincing.”He raises some fast cash and plans to shut the whole thing down and get back to writing names, until he gets a request from somebody who wants to “roleplay” as L....“

Taken straight from the description! It’s very VERY NSFW so be warned. I’m too shy to talk about it more alskfjdasldjf sorry BUT IT’S GREAT.

“Dance with Me” and “Birthday Note” by @dotti55fanfiction

These are both one-shots so I’m putting ‘em together! Absolutely adorable tooth-rotting fluff!! “Dance with Me” has Light and L going to a club, while “Birthday Note” features L trying to think of the best present for Light. The dictionary definition of “warm fuzzies.” (Dotti ilu, I still gotta find time to read your longer works)

“you’re a wasp nest” by raisuki (inthegripofahurricane)

Blind!Light AU! Light and L are both college students who meet when Sayu dares L to break into her house. Yagami sibling hijinksssss! Their quippy dialogue is adorable and it’s just a fun time watching them flirt.

“softly now” by smallestbird (jenwryn)

THANK YOU TO THE ANON WHO SENT ME THIS REC. The softest lawlight one-shot to finish off this list! Light and L share an intimate moment while painting their new apartment. The absolute JOY this fic radiates in a short 700 words!! Read it before bed for the sweetest dreams!

These are just my favourites, but read anything by any of these authors and you will not be disappointed! I might make a separate post later for soulmate AUs because... There’s just too many. :’D

-Alka

#Anonymous #ask #fic rec #lawlight #text #when you meet a work deadline and use the extra time to catch up on asks lol

394 notes · View notes