#steve is dust after he lived a very full and happy life with his true love and wife peggy

[stxrvel]

not my one

summary: bucky was in love with you, from the bones to the tips of his hair, and life would be perfect for him if it weren't for the fact that you had just gotten engaged to Steve.

pairing: (bucky barnes x) f!reader x steve rogers

words: 4k

warnings: some bad words, bucky regretting a lot of things, bucky suffers a lot, reader is not aware of anything, miscommunication, bucky can be unfair to those around him. love triangle?¿ also angst. like i said before, there's no happy endings in this account.

note: hi! i had this in my drafts too for days until my inspiration strike again, and also only by leehi was playing on repeat on my headphones while writing this. if you want a full experience, i highly recommend you to listen to that song while reading. there's something in using a love song to write a heartbreaking story. anyway, i hope you all like this!! and i dont know when ill see you again so i really hope you guys enjoy this one. feedback is always appreciated! <3

So… Bucky knew it was wrong. From the beginning, from the first furtive glance, from the first unexpected, not at all reciprocal, brush. Bucky knew it was very wrong. His moral compass was shot when his thoughts, his intentions, went south and he couldn't stop them, or just didn't want to. At first it was hard to stop them, but at least he knew he intended to. After a good while, Bucky couldn't be sure he was really trying to stop it at all.

His gaze wandered in the crowds, among familiar faces, but only one that really cheered his soul. Guilt followed him, too. Maybe he had stopped fighting the feeling, but that didn't make it any more bearable. Seeing those two faces, smiling at them like it was nothing, asking them about the ring as if it were casual small talk while his heart contracted, made him feel like a traitor every day, and that guilt hung on his back like a bag full of stones. He carried his own sin like the unworthy one he was.

Still, he loved carrying those little moments in his heart, as if they really meant something, as if he didn't feel like he lost something every time he did it, as if butterflies flew around him when they did and everyone around him got as excited as he did, as if all the love songs came true in a single moment. As if saying I love you was as easy as breathing.

“Bucky, what do you say?”

But that was all just in his head.

“I'm with Natasha this time.”

The whole table was filled with shouts and boos. Bucky felt like he could shrink back in his seat and disappear.

Your face was right in front of his, a huge smile made your eyes sparkle. Everyone he knew was gathered and there were so many places Bucky could look, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from the curve of your lips. It was electrifying the way a simple distant gesture could ignite his body like that.

And it was shattering the way he had to remind himself that he couldn't stare for that long.

Not when the first person you saw after laughing was Steve. Not when the first hand you held was his. Not when those sparkling eyes were only for him. Bucky had to remind himself that he couldn't stare at you too long because you were his, for Steve, even though Bucky felt like he was eternally yours.

Bucky could remember the first time he'd seen you because it had been the first time he'd felt alive after so long living in the shadows and dust.

He was fixing his motorcycle, as he used to do countless times, instead of having gone out with his friends to the dinner that night that Wanda had scheduled. Every month they had an outing and one of them had to organize it. That was how they'd basically managed to stay in touch after so long after being out of college.

Bucky knew everyone was going to hate him for canceling at the last minute, but he really didn't feel like going out. So he sat outside his garage with his motorcycle looking for any slightest mistake he could fix or any scratches he could paint while he spent the entire day just there. That was his plan. But everything changed the moment you suddenly appeared in front of him, in a white flowered dress that he could still remember, that you actually still wore, and asked him if he could help you. With those doe eyes and a pout Bucky couldn't have escaped you, even if he wanted to.

“Excuse me, hello,” Bucky heard your voice for the first time and raised his head as if he knew what was in store for him.

Seeing you for the first time was very pleasurable, Bucky truly thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life. The tool in his hand was halfway through fixing something on his motorcycle when his hand froze and his lips remained pursed. When he thought about it from time to time, Bucky thought he must have looked like an idiot.

“I don't want to bother you. Uhm… I'm Y/N. I just moved into the house over there,” you moved to point to one of the houses in the neighborhood that Bucky had seen for sale, being so far inside his own head to even realize that someone actually moved in there. “I wanted to know if… Well, it's just that I see you fix things and I- My car broke down. I don't know what's wrong with it, but it won't start with anything. I don't know anybody around either and only you were around, could you help me?”

Bucky had never heard a person ramble on like that. Rather he could say he had never heard such a melodic voice nor had he ever found a person who just rambled so tender and entertaining.

He took a moment to look behind you, where indeed there was a black car parked near the approach with the hood open. Returning his gaze back to you, he found you anxiously waving interlocked hands and a slightly frowning brow.

“Sure,” was all he said.

The smile you sketched for him felt like a reward.

“Thank you! Really thank you so much.”

Bucky could only nod as he picked himself up off the floor.

At that moment, your gaze lowered and met the bare chest of a man who spent every morning looking for something to fix on his perfectly good motorcycle. Bucky didn't think it was ever possible again, but he felt his cheeks redden.

“I'm going to-” Bucky motioned pointing to his house and then to his bare chest and then disappeared behind the door leading into his living room from the garage.

As he entered he had leaned against the closed door and berated himself for acting like a teenager and not a responsible adult who paid his taxes on time.

He came back out a few minutes later wearing a dark shirt and found you circling around his bike, looking at it as if you were in a museum. When he approached, you straightened up in embarrassment. Bucky wondered what you could feel embarrassed for when your very existence was worthy of being admired like that in a huge museum.

“Is that your car over there?” he asked stupidly, pointing to the only car parked along the road.

But as if that hadn't been too obvious a remark, you nodded animatedly and started walking in the direction of the vehicle. It looked like that huge grin wasn't going to disappear from your face since he agreed to help you, and Bucky felt like he was going to get in trouble for it.

“It came out of the garage very normally and I parked it here. I turned the engine off and went inside to get some stuff out and when I came back it just wouldn't start,” you explained with a cute frown, as you moved closer and closer to the car, that he couldn't stop staring at as if that was what he had to fix.

“Okay,” he almost whispered, and was startled as you moved closer to him to hear what he was saying. “You can stay in the seat and turn it on when I tell you.”

You shook your head animatedly again and went to sit down to wait for his direction. Bucky lingered for a moment processing the delicious floral, sweet smell, and the vanilla that your perfume gave off. He felt it wouldn't be long before it became his favorite scent. The lavender and vanilla. Bucky wasn't even a fan of ice cream or flowers.

He reluctantly looked down, letting the scent escape into the air. He quickly spot the problem and, after a simple motion, reached up to lower the hood.

“You can turn it on now.”

Bucky watched your surprised face, eyebrows raised and lips curved in a circle. It startled him how fast you were making his heart move in such a short time. How was that even possible?

It was even better when you moved the key and the car started without a hitch, with that giant crescent smile that almost hid your eyes completely. By the time you got out of the car, any trace of discomfort or nervousness in you was gone.

“Thank you very, very, very much. You don't know what you just saved me from…”

Bucky stared intently into your shining eyes, as if in the midst of a trance, as if he had to do it to live. He became so immersed in his introspection that he almost didn't notice that you were waiting for him to give you his name.

“Bucky.”

“Bucky…”

He almost melted at your melodious voice repeating his name as simple as butter, as if that's the way it had always been.

“Thank you so much, Bucky.”

He nodded, barely curving his lips into a half smile, and that also served as a farewell.

Bucky didn't know, or maybe he did, that from that moment on he wasn't going to be able to get you out of his head. And even if he tried, doing so would be more painful than simply leaving you there growing in his thoughts like ivy.

--

Bucky had spent many nights thinking about what had gone wrong. He replayed conversations in his head endlessly, like a broken record he replayed his own words, thought about what it all would have been like if he had done something different, if he had said something different, if that really would have been a relief to his heart. Bucky had already thought of everything, but really the only answer is that you were not meant to be together as he'd imagined.

Nothing was ever reciprocated. Any spark, any friction, it all had to have been inside his head because there was no other explanation.

And everything changed that night.

He had talked to you too many times since your car thing, even though it was hard for him. You had been to his house and he had been to yours almost countless times. You would meet in town and drive back together. You walked early on weekends. You brought him the best dishes he'd ever tasted in his life to eat together….

And he decided to take you to meet his friends. Even before he took you on a date. Before talking about what you had. Before a kiss. Before sleeping together.

For Bucky there was nothing more important than you meeting his friends. That's how big his love was, even if sometimes he lied so he wouldn't see them. It was his way of loving.

Every day of his life he regretted that decision because that night it was all about Steve and you. That night he felt like the world was falling apart on him. Everyone was talking about Steve and you. That you had so much in common, that you would make a cute couple, that your children would be beautiful. Bucky loved his friends, but that night…

After that everything went to hell.

As if you'd never met him, your days began to fill with Steve.

“Where are you going?”

“Oh. I'm going to meet Steve. We have a reservation.”

“Ah.”

Every day. There wasn't a day when he didn't hear his best friend's name come out of your mouth, sentencing him to eternal agony, because Bucky was never able to tell him that he loved you first, that he fell in love first. He couldn't do that to Steve who in so many things had been with him and had gone through so much.

“Are you free tonight?”

“No, Buck, I'm sorry. I'm going out with Steve.”

“Oh, sure. Is he coming to pick you up?”

“No, I'll take a cab.”

“At this hour?”

“Don't worry. I'll text you when I get there.”

And you did. But you wrote him too much. You told him how amazing the date had gone. You described how good you felt around him. And you confessed to him that you'd kissed.

Bucky thought about moving out after that.

“Hi, Bucky!”

But he also thought about how hard it would be to be so far away from you. Maybe it was worth it to avoid a broken heart, but…. No, it was too late for that now.

“Are you doing anything tonight?”

He lifted his head so fast he felt a whiplash of tension run down his back.

“No. Why?”

Could it be possible that…?

“Then you are cordially invited to a game night at my house. Sincerely, Steve and I.”

Steve and I.

Bucky shouldn't have been disappointed because he knew he shouldn't have felt hope in the first place, but he didn't expect to feel the anger bubbling in his chest either. You walked away like it was nothing after that, with a huge smile on your face, the one that made him fall in love with you in the first place. You walked animatedly as if you hadn't just stomped his heart to smithereens. You walked totally oblivious to the overwhelming guilt that grew from the pit of his stomach to plant itself in his chest for the first time.

You didn't even know anything. There was no way Bucky could blame you. Not even Steve. He had only himself to blame. For not speaking up first, for waiting so long, for not taking the risk.

Bucky didn't go to that game night.

Not the next one, not the one after that, not the one after that, not the one after that, not the one after that either…

Bucky stopped going to his friends' monthly meetings. He always said he had too much work. And yes, he dragged out his own work so he wouldn't even risk thinking about all he had lost.

At least five months passed and it was a year to the day since that night when Bucky made the worst mistake of his life.

That night he was surprised to find Steve outside his door.

He had just come home from work. It was close to ten o'clock at night. His face was cold from the weather and from not wearing his helmet since entering his residential area.

“Steve,” was his greeting.

“Bucky,” his friend reciprocated as he parked the bike in his garage.

Reluctant to any kind of conversation that might come up that night, Bucky tried to find any possible excuse to get Steve to leave. But he took too long.

“We're neighbors now,” was all Steve said, once Bucky got off the bike and turned to face him.

“What?”

“I moved in with Y/N today. I live with her now.”

Like a hundred broken panes of glass Bucky's heart sounded every time it pounded. His friend's sparkling eyes were telling him, screaming at him to say something, to congratulate him, a few words, but his breath caught in his throat and he didn't even feel like he could trust his own legs at that moment.

You had moved in together.

You loved Steve so much that you'd asked him to move in with you.

“That's good, Steve.”

Not even great, just good. The words came almost slurred out of his mouth, and yes, his own head ripped the words out of him before it became too awkward and suspicious a silence.

“We tried to call you to come by after work. We had a little party.”

“I had my cell phone on silent.”

Bullshit. Bucky had seen every call, even yours, along with your messages, and had spent a good while just staring at the screen wondering what it could be about that both of you at the same time wanted to contact him.

“I figured.”

Steve sighed, and for a second Bucky thought he had figured it out. From the look on his face, Bucky figured he'd tell him to stay away from you and not try to get close because he'll have him between his eyebrows.

“You can stop by tomorrow at breakfast, if you want.”

Somehow, that was worse.

“No, thanks.”

“Buck-”

“I'm leaving very early for work.”

“Bucky-”

“I can't, Steve, I'm sorry.”

“Bucky, we haven't seen you in months.”

The aforementioned stood halfway through opening the door to his living room, almost completely forgetting that had he gone through to the other side he would have locked his best friend in his garage and, for a moment, that almost didn't even matter to him. The thought scared him.

“It's been about four months since I've seen you in person. I figured you were going through something and needed time, but hasn't it been a long time already?”

“Five.”

“What?”

“It's been five months,” Bucky turned to look at his friend unhinged face and guilt washed over him once more, as strong as the first time, a great wave breaking the sand. “Come in. So you can go out the front door because I already locked that door and it's electric and very slow and…”

The sympathetic expression on Steve's face didn't please him, he decided he didn't like it. It looked like he was looking at him with sorrow, with pain, but he didn't understand, he wasn't going through half of what Bucky was feeling everyday, he didn't have the slightest idea. He was going to a warm bed after this, at least, and Bucky would get to the great solitude of his thoughts.

No. Steve didn't understand shit.

“Don't look at me with that fucking face,” he exclaimed before he could stop himself. “Just leave.”

Bucky thought about that hurt expression on Steve's face for several days.

--

Two months later, somehow, you had convinced Bucky to attend one of your monthly meetings. It was so hard and yet so easy to make that decision, because you had gone all the way to his house and knocked on his door and asked him to come so many times that he couldn't say no just to avoid seeing your disappointed face.

And so it had come to that moment. That moment where everyone was booing Natasha and Bucky could tell by your huge smile that he hadn't gotten over you one bit. Two months without seeing you had been for nothing. That zero contact method surely only worked with teenagers.

As the laughter dissipated, Bucky thought about all he had been through and all he had suffered in silence. He hated that he couldn't hate anyone because everything that had happened was his fault. He hated every time he logged on to his text app and had to find himself in the group chat various messages about how Steve and you made such a great couple that neither of them could wait for you to get married.

Maybe Bucky complained too much.

Because the next thing he knew, everyone gathered around the table and you announced your engagement to Steve. When the table was again filled with shouts and applause, Bucky couldn't take his eyes off the giant ketchup stain on the table that Natasha had caused by getting too excited about the news. The envelope had been crushed by her hand, splattering its contents on that piece of the table and even on the shirts of those nearby. But no one really cared, because you and Steve were getting married. No one except…

... Bucky's weak and bruised heart, which despite the months could never stop beating just for you. Even though he tried, for his sake, for the sake of your friendship, for the sake of being happy for his best friend, he simply could not. It was a losing battle for him from the start. Ever since you showed up in his front yard in that blessed white flowered dress you were wearing now to deliver that news, and you smiled gratefully at him with the same smile you had now as you were encircled by Wanda and Tony's arms.

Bucky wanted to say that he'd grown accustomed to the pain that accompanies a broken heart, but the truth was that it never got easier. Every time he felt that pain, he prayed he wouldn't have to feel it again, because the pain that followed was so much stronger, so much so that he felt it suck the air out of him and a hollowness made its space inside his chest.

Bucky was really struggling to keep his composure at that moment.

But when he looked away from the large ketchup stain on the table, he met Steve's eyes, and somehow he knew. Bucky knew that he knew. However it was, coincidence or fate, Bucky realized that Steve knew what was going through his head.

And, for some reason, Steve didn't look angry.

But Bucky wasn't taking that pressure. Feeling invisible hands suffocating him.

So he barely mumbled an apology to him and ran out of the house.

His intention was to make it to the safety of his house, but his legs only gave out until he found his motorcycle parked in front of the future husband and wife's house.

His breathing was heavy, rapid and ragged. Of all the heartbreaks, that one was perhaps the most painful.

“Bucky?”

Hearing your voice behind him as he tried to fight the anxiety of not crying, not that moment, not in that place, not when it could be so obvious to you, was like a bucket of cold water. He suddenly felt alert, uncovered.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Why?”

“You ran out of the house.”

Although he tried to avoid it, the first thing he saw when you stepped around him to face him was the large ring that was now part of you. It was beautiful and delicate, Steve had made a good choice.

“I was overwhelmed for a moment. The screaming and stuff,” he gave you a lousy excuse, but it seemed to convince you enough.

“Oh, sure, I'm sorry. Do you want me to make you some tea? I've got a soothing one.”

“No,” Bucky shook his head quickly. “No need. I'd better go to my place.”

“So soon?”

Bucky looked into those deer eyes he loved so much and it hurt so much to think that would be the last time he saw them.

“Yeah, I'll feel better there. Don't worry.”

“Text me if you need anything.”

“Sure,” he wasn't going to. “Ah, congratulations on the engagement.”

Bucky was going to leave it at that, at a few simple words he tried to say with his heart in his hand, but you went further and jumped in to hug him by wrapping your arms around his neck. He felt dizzy for a moment.

“If it wasn't for you I never would have met him. Thanks, Buck.”

Bucky swallowed hard to keep from collapsing right there in your arms.

“Sure.”

“And to think I thought I'd end up with you,” you blurted out with a chuckle, as if it was nothing, as you backed away from his body, as if you hadn't just dropped a bomb on his face.

Bucky went cold.

“What?”

You laughed again, as if it was nothing more than a funny anecdote from adolescence or college. His chest heaved from the pain, his heart pounding so hard he felt it behind his ears. Hands sweaty, he didn't feel ready to listen to you.

“When we first met I liked you, Bucky, and I thought maybe we could work something out… But then I met Steve and it was… Wow, like fireworks.”

“Ah.”

“I guess things really do happen for a reason.”

“Yeah, right,” Bucky replied on automatic, afraid that any distraction would give him a glimpse, trying to even out his breathing.

“Well, you know, text me if you need anything.”

“Yeah.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

“See you at the wedding, huh.”

“Sure.”

Bucky followed you with his eyes as you walked back to your driveway, where Steve was waiting for you. His gaze lit up as much as yours every time he saw you and the lump in Bucky's throat kept getting bigger and bigger. He couldn't be one second closer to that house.

But then you walked into the house and Bucky met Steve's gaze.

He started to get on his bike as his best friend started walking towards him.

“Why didn't you ever say anything?”

Bucky remained sitting on the bike, helmet in his hands.

“I'm not going to talk about this with you now, Steve.”

“No, Bucky, you're not going to do this again. Answer me.”

“Steve…”

“Answer me!”

Bucky turned to see his friend's contracted face and knew where his anger was coming from. It wasn't against him, it wasn't against his feelings.

“I just… I couldn't do it.”

“And that's all?”

“Yeah, that's all,” Bucky started the bike. “I couldn't say anything when I saw you smile for the first time in months. Not when you actually looked happy after everything you went through.”

“What I went through? What we went through, Bucky! We both suffered through it and you… you…”

“Whatever it is, Steve, it's over. The time is past. It's all behind us.”

“Bucky…” Steve slurred the words, incredulous, pained to see his best friend allowed to suffer like that. In deep pain because he knew if it had been the other way around he would have done the same.

“I'll be fine. Send me the invitation to the wedding. I promise I'll be there, if you want me there. And I'll be fine by then. I'll be fine.”

Bucky finally put on the case and without waiting for final words from Steve, he took off riding to an aimless destination.

He didn't know if he would be better by the time the wedding happened, because thinking about it at that moment made the tears run desperately down his cheeks, even though the wind dried them very quickly, just as they were replaced by others and others.

Bucky had no idea if he would ever be well again, but he had to try. He had to try because at that moment he felt like he would die.

#bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #james barnes #winter soldier #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky x female reader #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x you #avengers #marvel

[onceuponastory]

guilty - b.b x reader

Darling, darling, darling, let me sing to you Let me sing to you, let me sing to you Darling, darling, darling, let me shelter you Let you into all the homes that fear has made of me How the shingles fall like dust beside your company - little words: the happy fits (also you should check out the happy fits, cause their music is really good! highly recommend.)

Plot: Bucky tells his girlfriend Y/N the truth about his past...and all the bodies left in his wake. A/N: My friends requested Bucky being told that what happened to him and what he did as The Winter Soldier wasn’t his fault. They also wanted to see more emotional Bucky, like the opening scene of TFATWS episode 4, so I happily obliged! cause Bucky Barnes is not a villain and if you think he is gtfo.  Also, chapter 2 of ever after is coming, it’s just these chapters are turning out to be way longer than I first thought, lmao. Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, torture, death...basically everything Bucky did as TWS. Also a lot of self loathing. This is a very angsty fic, but there’s a happy ending!

There are a lot of things in life that Bucky Barnes hates. The rain, for one thing. And John Walker. But most of all, what Bucky hates is feeling guilty. And with a past stained with as much blood as his...he has a lot to feel guilty about. It’s not that Bucky doesn’t want to feel guilty or atone for what he did, completely the opposite, in fact. He hates being unable to sleep at night without hearing screaming or seeing the blood he spilt. In all honesty, Bucky just wants it to stop. He hates closing his eyes every night and dreads actually falling asleep because he knows that’s when the nightmares begin. 

Bucky peers over from his spot on the couch to watch his girlfriend Y/N as she cleans up the things from dinner. She’s always been so sweet to him, and it breaks his heart to know that he’s not the kind of person she thinks he is. The complete opposite, actually. But most of all, Bucky hates how he knows he still hasn’t told her about his past and the type of person he used to be. He doesn’t want to tell her, not wanting to destroy her happiness.  Bucky imagines how she’ll react when he tells her. Probably run screaming in the other direction, or dump him immediately. And even though it breaks his heart to imagine that...he knows it’s what he deserves. But first, he has to tell her..and he’s going to do it today...If he can work up the guts to tell her, that is.

“Y/N? Doll? Can you come here for a sec? Please?” Bucky asks, trying to make his voice more serious, but still hating how nervous he sounds. Y/N walks over to him. She raises an eyebrow, clearly confused. Bucky clears his throat and pats the seat beside him on the couch, motioning for her to sit, which she does. 

“Buck? What’s going on?” She asks. Bucky tries not to wince at the fact she used his nickname. It still feels weird to him. Weird that he’s still alive, still loved by people enough to have a nickname, to have a girlfriend, and to be given a chance at redemption...even with all this blood on his hands. And when all the people he killed didn’t even have the opportunity to grow old and be loved. He ruined so many lives. Why should he be the one to find happiness? Why isn’t he the one who died? “Bucky?” Y/N cuts into his thoughts. She’s looking up at him, her eyes full of concern. Again, Bucky wonders what will happen when he tells her the truth. Will she even love him anymore? Or will she run for the hills?

“I uh...” He clears his throat. “I have something I need to tell you.” Her eyes widen slightly, and before Bucky can even think about what he’s going to say next, she asks:

“Did you cheat on me? Please tell me you didn’t.” For a moment, Bucky considers lying and telling her that he did cheat. Even though it’ll break her heart, it’s a lot better than admitting you’re responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people, regardless of whether or not he was brainwashed into doing so. That way, he can protect her from ever finding out the truth. She’d leave, and he could go back to being alone. Even though the very idea of losing Y/N and being alone forever hurts, Bucky knows that it’s the least of what he deserves. “Bucky, please. Just tell me the truth.” She pleads, and Bucky can see her eyes glistening with tears. “Whatever it is, we can talk about it and hopefully work through it.” Bucky’s not too sure about that one. He sighs. Even though the truth was a lot worse, Bucky knows Y/N deserves to hear it...even if it might destroy their relationship.

“No, it’s not like that. I didn’t cheat.” Y/N sighs, and relief floods her features.

“Good. I didn’t think you would do that to me. You’re not that kind of person.” Bucky feels his heart shatter. She doesn’t even know the kind of person he really was. The merciless killer. The Winter Soldier. Someone responsible for so much pain and suffering. Bucky takes her hands. He runs his non-metal thumb over her knuckles, trying not to stare too long at his metal arm and hand. Even though he was given a different one in Wakanda, one not tied to suffering, one without blood on it...seeing his metal arm still reminds him of the pain his previous one caused. “What do you need to tell me?”

“Um...” He sighs, trying to find the words. “Remember ages ago, when Sam said something happened to me? Something bad?” Y/N nods. “Well...he wasn’t exactly honest. I mean, yeah, something bad happened to me. But I did something bad. Something...worse.” She frowns. “Back when I was in World War Two with Steve, my unit got captured, and they experimented on me.”

“I know this. You and Steve told me.” Y/N cuts him off. 

“I know...but you don’t know the full extent of it.” Bucky sighs, memories flooding his brain. He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, trying to block them out. “They injected me with super-soldier serum, which helped me to survive the train fall, as you know.” She nods, listening intently. “Well. I didn’t just sit and wait for Steve to find me or escape heroically or anything. I, um...I....” He takes a deep breath. Y/N squeezes his hand, and Bucky almost breaks down in tears right then. She’s too sweet for him. He doesn’t deserve her. “I was taken by the Soviet Wing of Hydra, and they wiped my memories, implanted these...trigger words in me so I’d do whatever they want. I became their...assassin.”

“What are you saying?” She asks.

“I’m saying...I was the Winter Soldier. The monster that killed innocent people and injured countless others. I’ve left so many bodies in my wake...and done so many bad things Y/N. And I don’t deserve any of...this.” He waves his free hand around at the apartment they’re both in...and at her. Y/N blinks back at him, looking slightly shocked at Bucky’s revelation. “And I definitely don’t deserve someone like you. Not after what I did or who I was. The person who tried to kill Steve, Sam, Fury and Nat-”

“But you didn’t, Bucky, you-” She leans in closer, reaching her hand closer to the forearm of his metal arm.

“BUT I TRIED TO!” He exclaims, cutting her off as he jerks his metal arm back. Y/N jumps back a little, a look of fear crossing her face for a moment. That makes Bucky feel even worse. Even though Ayo and Shuri helped rehabilitate him, and Ayo removed his trigger words, Bucky has spent many sleepless nights tossing and turning. He stays awake almost all night, wondering how much of The Winter Soldier remains within him and whether he’d hurt or scare anyone that way again. Seeing the look of fear on Y/N’s face tells him only one thing: he’s still the same monster he was before. And now he’s scared the one person he wanted to protect. Bucky panics, and his stomach drops. Drops into a black hole that he wishes would swallow him whole. “I’m sorry, I-I I didn’t mean to-” He stammers, tripping over his words. Tears threaten to spill over, and he gets up from the couch quickly. “I’m sorry....I-I should just go. Maybe just...don’t contact me. I don’t want to hurt you o-or...” Without another word, Bucky walks towards the door. 

“Bucky! Bucky, wait!” He hears Y/N following him, and he tries to speed up to avoid her. “Wait, please! Please...don’t leave.” Bucky opens the front door to her apartment, and she runs in front of him, shielding the door with her body and placing her arms out so he can’t get by her. Bucky sighs. In the past, with his true strength, he could easily move her out of the way. But of course, there’s no way he would hurt her...at least, any more than he probably already has. 

“Y/N. Let me get past, please.” He mumbles, and she shakes her head. “Doll....”

“No. I’m not moving.”

“Look, it’s better for both of us if I just go. I’m a monster. I always have been and always will be. That serum that turned me into this monster is still in my veins. Who’s to know when it will strike again, even stronger, or if I hurt you? I can’t do that. I have to go.” He argues back, his voice quieter and shaky.

“No. You don’t. I’m not going to let you.” 

“Y/N.” He sighs again, exasperated. “I don’t know why you’re fighting this so much. I mean...it’s nice, but trust me, I don’t deserve it. Now...” He leans in and presses a delicate kiss to her forehead. But despite how delicately he kisses her, there’s still pain behind that kiss. The pain of leaving Y/N, the only woman he’s ever loved, forever. Bucky almost scoffs at that. Even when he’s trying to be tender and loving...all he does is cause pain. But after everything he’s done, Bucky knows that pain is what he deserves. And Y/N deserves someone better than him. Even though saying that still breaks his heart, he knows it’s true. “You need to let me go. Please. Just let me go.” He whispers, tears falling slowly down his cheeks. Y/N shakes her head again.

“No. Stop asking me to, because I won’t.”

“Why not? You know-”

“Because!” She shouts, snapping her head up to him, tears filling her eyes too. “...Because I’m in love with you, Bucky, and hearing you talk about yourself like that, and saying you don’t deserve to be loved...it breaks my heart.” Bucky blinks at her, confused.

“But-but I did so many bad things!”

“When you were brainwashed!” She snaps back. “I know you killed people. But it wasn’t your choice. Was it?” She asks. Bucky shakes his head. Of course, it wasn’t his choice...but he still did it. And he still has to live with it. “See? It wasn’t you, Bucky. They turned you into that person. It wasn’t your conscious choice.” 

“But I-” Bucky tries to argue back, but Y/N interrupts him again

“Listen. The way I see it, you were kidnapped whilst you were trying to save the world. And when that happened, they tortured you and forced the serum on you whilst Steve chose to get it, right?” Bucky nods. “And then, they kidnapped you again, wiped your memories and forced you to kill all those people.”

“Well, yes, but I-”

“Bucky. It wasn’t you. It wasn’t your choice. It's not your fault. I know you didn’t want to do those horrible things. And you’re atoning for them, aren’t you?” Bucky frowns.

“How...how do you know that?”

“I found your notebook. Sam told me it used to be Steve’s. I uh...I had a look inside and saw a list of names. Are those the people you wronged?” Bucky nods, feeling tears growing in his eyes again. 

“My uh...my therapist suggested it would be useful. It’s part of my pardon, I think. But I wanted to anyway.” 

Y/N’s eyes soften. “See Bucky? The fact you’re atoning and that you actually want to, means so much about you. You’re trying to do the right thing.” She steps forward and gently takes his hands in hers. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. Because I know that’s not you. It wasn’t you then, and it’s not now. You’re the kind of guy who brings me ice cream when I’m upset, who laughs at pictures and videos of cats, and sings along to Disney films with me. You’re not a killer. You are not The Winter Soldier. Your name is James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes, and it’s not your fault.” Bucky is silent for a while, as he can’t even think of something to say. He’s simply overwhelmed with emotion and the feeling of having someone like Y/N loving and supporting him. So overwhelmed, in fact, that he starts crying. Actually, he starts sobbing as the years of pent up emotion spill over. Y/N wraps her arms around him and pulls him closer. Bucky doesn’t even try to stop her, and just wraps his arms around her in return. He feels like his legs are about to give way at any moment and that he’s definitely covering her outfit in snot and tears, but she doesn’t seem to care. All she does is repeat: “You are not The Winter Soldier anymore. Your name is James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes, and it’s not your fault.” She continues this phrase, trying to drill into Bucky that it’s not his fault. After a while, Bucky feels his legs give out, and the pair crash to the floor, but Y/N doesn’t let go. She squeezes him even tighter as Bucky’s body shakes as he cries, so tightly it’s as if she’s trying to transfer all her love and warmth into him. “I love you. So much.” She whispers, softly kissing him on the lips.

“I love you too.” Bucky whispers. Y/N pulls away and looks over at him, her eyes full of love and support.

“I’m here for you. I always will be. You deserve love. It’s not your fault Bucky. It never was.” She whispers. And for the first time in forever...Bucky starts to believe that. Of course, he knows he still has a lot of healing and therapy to go through. But, he knows that as long as he has Y/N there to support him, he’ll be okay.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky oneshot #bucky one shot

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Just My Type: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 2 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Darkside

Main Masterlist

A/N: This chapter is 2K words more than the last chapter and I’ve second guessed every single line in this one. This story is getting a lot of traction guys and I’m equal parts happy and scared. Thank you for the nice comments, they do encourage me. Also I’m just ranting feel free to skip this note haha. Your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Also you can dm if you want to be friends, God knows I need those. Hopefully, this chap was worth the wait. Also, I made a poster for this on the main masterlist so check that out, it might be foreshadowing dome plot.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 2: Just My Type

It had almost been a week since the incident and you had barely gotten a wink of sleep. When you drove back to your house that night, Steve surprisingly didn’t argue as you had expected. After that friend of his whispered something in his ears, you only assumed he was needed elsewhere and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. They escorted you to your car and Steve thanked you with a strained smile, words genuine but eyes calculating. You didn’t even wonder what went inside his head. You were thankful for the peace and quiet of your own car, content to just get out of the area and into your humble abode.

After you put the already asleep Grace to bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of her room. You just sat on the floor beside the bed, hand intertwined with hers as you rested your head beside her tummy on the mattress.

Your adrenaline wore off and your limbs ached as your thoughts finally settled into place, the gravity of the catastrophe a few hours prior hitting you. Tears made their way down your cheeks as you realized that you both could have very well died tonight.

One bullet could have sealed each of your lives and you were basically defenseless had Steve not saved you against the creeping assaulter. You couldn’t commend yourself for even defending yourself against one attacker, the guilt of killing someone harboring in your tired head. Your quiet whimpers eventually wore you out, while Grace’s shallow breaths lulled you to sleep.

You didn’t manage to sleep for long though, every time your eyes closed, horrific images flashed in your mind. A blood curdling scream here, heaps of dead bodies there, with distant exploding sounds all around. You could see men clad in black holding guns to Grace’s head and whensoever you woke up, you just wondered how much more creative your mind could get, making these visuals so realistic.

When 8 AM rolled in, you didn’t wake Grace up even though it was Monday and you had work. You got up, changed into a long tee after a shower and called your office and then her daycare. You knew you would have a hard time going back to your normal life, to become trusting enough to leave her alone.

Your assumption about yourself was right. You took almost the entire week off, which your boss generously allowed you to after hearing your traumatic experience, which soon made the city news headlines. All your colleagues checked on you, almost once in the five day break you took, and sweetly enough offered to bring you anything you needed.

It was kind of them, but none of them could bring you what your heart genuinely craved: peace and assurance that you and Grace would be safe.

Even though Saturdays were off, you did go to work to see what you missed and where to start on again. You went in because you knew that the random spurt of resolution you got in the bathroom to collect your life, wouldn’t last.

To ease back into your normal life, you gathered your guts, called a babysitter and left home. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave Grace at the daycare just yet. One of your good friends offered to come in to the office and help you, even on the weekend and you were quite grateful to him.

When you both decided to take lunch in the nearby dining place, you both got to talking, the conversation obviously originating from ‘How have you been?’ and ‘Is Grace okay?’. You reminisced about how you used a photobooth to hide, grotesquely and uncomfortably chuckling when you remembered Sarah calling you her mom and how her dad saved you all.

You deliberately left the part where you killed someone and Steve shot someone too. You hadn’t come to terms with it yet and you stiffly restricted your mind whenever it tried to go down that lane.

He sensed how the conversation was becoming tense and distressing for you and briskly redirected the topic.

“I hope the dad was hot though?” He wiggled his eyes creepily and you snorted at his vulgarity, light for the first time in days.

“He was easy on the eyes; I will admit that.” You played along, recalling your girlfriends and how you used to ogle people.

“Don’t be a homewrecker though, I don’t support cheating.” He said nonchalantly, checking his phone as a notification bell rang off.

“He’s a widower.”

His eyes snapped up and met yours as his head tilted in confusion. “That’s a strange fact to know about someone you met for a few minutes.”

Steve’s even stranger comment about his dead wife popped in your mind and before you could stop yourself, you blurted that out as well.

“He even said and I quote, ‘She deserved what she got.’” He put his phone down, weirdly amused.

“Ooh Creepy! Do you think he is one of those husbands who kill their wives and bury them in the backyard? The podcasts always say that the psychopaths are visually handsome and charming. And his statement was quite vague and spooky.” He continued munching, and you felt that now Aiden was really paying attention unlike before.

“Steve did have a gun while searching for Sarah, come to think of it.” You drank your tea and awaited his response. What you did not expect was his eyes to widen and worry to cloud his features.

“Um Widower Steve with a toddler Sarah? At the place where The Vices attacked?” He mumbled, grabbing his phone and doing God knows what on it. Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could ask him what was up with his antics, he resumed.

“This is a long shot but I really hope your Steve didn’t look like this.” He positioned the phone in your vision, and you could already tell it was Steve by the sapphire blue of his eyes piercing through the screen into your soul. The picture was a month or two old, his hair was much longer when you met him than in the photo.

“This is him.” Your eyes met Aiden’s and worry visibly took over his features as his forehead creased and jaw tense.

He looked around the restaurant, finding it empty in the afternoon. He leaned and whispered, “This Steve of yours is dangerous.”

You interrupted Aiden, even though you already knew Steve was, the sight of his armed men still fresh in your head, and inquired, “Why do you say so?”

“It’s just like the fictional stories we hear from our parents, except here, in this city of ours, every myth holds true. There are really powerful men, untouchable by law, who reign the city silently and live luxuriously. Every shady, under the table deal you’ve heard of, transpires. Illegal trades, fraud schemes and bounty hunters are not fictional, they exist here. These men kill whatever hinders them and trust me, you don’t want to be the deer caught in their Jaguar’s headlights.”

Ice froze in your veins again, resembling the fear you felt that night but now because of your deemed ‘savior’. You convinced yourself that you had not wronged him in any way, instead had saved his daughter’s life.

“Are you in contact with him? If you are, distance yourself cleverly, don't block him immediately.”

“No, we just parted ways near my car, he thanked me for Sarah and was called away. It’s almost been a week and he hasn’t reached out if that’s what you mean. We didn’t exchange contacts and I don’t think I even told him my full name.” You explained yourself as if you were on the witness stand in court, trying to convince yourself more than Aiden.

“Pray that he doesn’t remember you more than that, if at all. I’m being totally honest here in telling you this, I’m genuinely worried for you and Grace. You are smart but he is powerful. He has unimaginable resources and if you become more than a speck of dust on his windshield, you are screwed. There is no exaggeration here.” You took his words to your heart and swore to be careful, if not for yourself then for Grace.

The rest of the day went by and you found yourself dwelling on and worrying about Aiden’s words. At least he put it out there as it was. Heeding his advice, you did google Steve on your phone, finally finding him in the topmost news headline when you added ‘Buck’ in the search bar as well.

‘With 38 lawsuits pending against businessman Steve Rogers, the filers have lost all hope in prosecuting him. All cases are being drawn out for indefinite periods of time by the Chief Justice Bruce……’

Aiden was right.

Businessmen was code for illegal mob heads. Cases being stretched on meant he was, in fact, invincible, at least to the common man’s fists.

You flickered through several titles, each one more surprising than the last. He was believed to be involved in the carnival attack, alleged for three hit and run cases that he didn’t lose but the witnesses swore they saw him driving and was also rumored to have brought in quintals of drugs just last week, but the packets just evaporated into thin air and there was no proof of their existence in the first place even on incessant searching.

Every crime of his made you shudder and you mentally thanked Aiden for pulling you out of your oblivion. Your mind raced and heart palpated and you cursed yourself for being so drastically unaware even after living here for almost four years. Technically speaking, Steve and you were even, him saving your life and you saving his daughter’s. No logical reason came to your mind for him contacting you ever.

You wished as Aiden said and assured yourself that your paths would never cross again, Steve not having reached out in a week, so hopefully never again.

That thought went out the window when you reached home to find a box awaiting you. Hannah, the babysitter you had called, informed you it came around 5 in the evening and was exclusively to be opened by you today.

Your mind raced as you paid the babysitter, your hands sweaty as you tried not to think about the gift and its sender. There was an apparently clear answer to who mailed it but you refused to accept that, courtesy of Aiden.

The box was of the height of Grace, it was black with red hearts painted across it; some red roses also sparingly adorned it. You opened the lid and found tons of red tissues and a multi-flower bouquet adorned with mostly red roses and a few purple and pink flowers.

Because of your frequent gardening in your backyard, you knew all the flowers’ meanings. To sum it all up, red flowers, especially roses were used for courting someone. Pink meant admiration, purple for beauty and you knew the ‘violet’ flowers were for loyalty.

As your nerves increased tenfold, you willed yourself to get it over with and empty out the box first, ignoring the little card in your bouquet, saving the ‘best’ for last. You find a mini bouquet inside but unlike yours, it had chocolates of every kind. You did read its card and cringed when it was for Grace, bothered not by the deed but by the doer.    

Further inside were some animal plushies, face masks, perfumes, scented body lotions and shampoos. Your head hurt thinking about the ‘single mother care package’ delivered to you by someone you refused to acknowledge.

As Grace sat in her playpen occupied, you dared to pick your card and read its message, your heart beating unrealistically fast for someone who refused to accept the cruciality of her situation.

~

I can’t thank you enough in this lifetime for saving my little princess. The gift of your help is more than anything money could ever buy for me. Please accept this invitation of mine for dinner tomorrow night, 7PM at La Bonne Nuit, as a symbol of my sincere gratitude for everything you’ve done. I’ll gets the kids covered and pick you up, you just be ready and look as amazing you always do.                                                                                           Sincerely,                                                                      Steve Rogers

                                                                                            ~

You stilled as you read it over and over again.

An invitation, your ass. Even in writing his authority portrayed, there was no question and hope for you coming, he just stated that you’d come. Looking pretty as always? You just met him once, in the middle of a calamity, covered in dirt and blood.

All the red roses and gifts screamed his romantic interest but you illusioned yourself into thinking they meant gratitude. You wouldn’t be able to digest it all otherwise.

Knowing what you knew now about Steve, you understood there was no denying the dinner tomorrow. You had to get out of his clutches and distance yourself, but as Aiden had so rightfully said, cleverly.

That night you laid in bed mulling over your next course of actions. You had called the gift shop to return the unwarranted presents you received but they said it was non refundable and anonymous to trace. You bitterly snorted in their face, they put a card with Steve’s name on it for heaven’s sake!

You didn’t flinch even when you realized you never gave Steve your address, neither for mailing stuff nor for picking you up. There was no number given to call him and thank or to call him and deny. The bastard had planned it all out, and you felt like you were driving in a one way lane, going deeper into the tunnel. Somewhere among your all-relentless fretting, you managed to finally sleep.

 When the doorbell rang, your eyebrows furrowed. It was just 6 PM and you weren’t expecting anybody else except for Steve. You had already begun getting ready, having developed a habit of keeping an extra margin of time now having a toddler. You still had to assemble Grace’s essential backpack, fill it with her meds and bottles.

While still putting on your diamond earring, you made your way to the door, unlocking it to find a redhead grinning at you. Before you could interact with her, a small body clung to your legs and you looked down to find the azure eyed kid that put you in this mess, Sarah, smiling up at you.

“Mama! You look pwetty!” She looked up in awe and now aware that she didn’t have a mother, you were even more so coerced into accepting this title rather than telling the kid that 'you are semi orphaned'.

“I’m Wanda, Sarah’s nanny. Mr. Rogers told me to pick her friend, Grace, up for the night?” So, this was what Steve meant. Bringing Sarah was proof enough of her legitimacy, but behind her you saw ‘Buck’ salute you from the driver’s seat of the black car. One of these days, you needed to learn his real name.

You invited Wanda inside and Sarah ran to Grace immediately, grabbing and whining while asking Grace to give her some popcorn she was munching on, her fist generously full.

In your open plan kitchen, you grabbed two plastic bowls, filled them with each with the tub of popcorn that sat in the microwave and handed each toddler one, fortunately quietening Sarah. Sarah obeyed Grace, in first thanking you, their ‘mama’ and then following her to her open playpen.

You faced Wanda again who sat on a barstool and kept on beaming. If your annoyance at her amusement showed, she sure didn’t let it falter the smile.

“Mr. Rogers told me you’d worry about your daughter, but I assure you she’d be in more than capable hands.” All you could focus on was how self-reassured she was. “I’ve served him for almost two years, the last family I served, I was there for 8 years and before them, I was employed for 3. I know the general bedtime and snacks, all I need from you is information about her allergies.”

You nodded and told her about Grace, her meds and what all you packed. When you got to know that her family owned the daycare Grace went to, you were finally somewhat convinced. After seeing them off, it was about fifteen minutes later, that the devil disguised in Prada showed up at your door.

You grabbed your purse and your keys. Wiping your sweaty palms on your dress, you opened the door. Steve stood there, a smirk lodging on his handsome face. His blue, three-piece suit perfectly paired with his cerulean eyes was impressive to say the least.

He was dressed to kill, and it appeared as if you were his first victim.

As your eyes took him in from top to bottom, his did the same lazily, taking their time, resting at certain places for longer period than others.

“You look stunning.”

You knew you did. You wore one of your more expensive dresses when you found out La Bonne Nuit to be one of the few seven-star hotels in the country. In hindsight, if you’d have dressed worse, maybe he’d have left you alone.

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?” He offered you his hand and you obliged with your palm in his. Your other hand pulled the doorknob while you stepped out, all alarms already set-in place. He waited while you locked and put the keys in and when you were done, with a soft kiss along your knuckles, he pulled you along.

The act surprised you, your stomach turning and your gut wrenching and you wondered if you’d be able to process the food after all, with your upset digestive system.

Like a proper gentleman, he opened the door for you and when you settled, he took his position at the driver’s seat. The silence was painful for you, your overthinking finally filling ideas in your head that you avoided contemplating about all day, focusing on Grace.

He was relaxed though; his humming was proof enough.

Mid way through, your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a hand housed itself on your knee. You glanced to find Steve’s palm slightly rubbing your knee. If it was meant to be assuring, you certainly didn’t feel like it.

You frowned and looked up to Steve who still had the arrogant smirk on his face, eyes straight ahead on the road, giving no indication of his inappropriate touching.

You wanted to swat his hand away but a brainwave dashed through your head and a disturbing thought made you halt, that whether he carried guns to restaurants as well, since carnivals were no big deal.

You ignored his hand and continued looking outside, pretending to ignore it as well as he did. Your scowl was a huge giveaway though.

You didn’t know that, but when your eyes found their way out, his finally rested on your face, the smirk growing even more.

Thankfully, apart from the incongruous touching, the dinner went okay-ish. The food and wine were impeccable, perfect even, the restaurant on the hotel’s top floors was so picturesque. You tried to savor your one-time experience there, knowing you’d no way be able to come back there.

Well, you tried to relish as much as you could while your mind still sat there, wary of the human in front of you. If you’d ignore your journey here, Steve was nothing short of a true gentleman, often making you wonder if you had imagined his hand on you.

This ‘friendly’ date you were having was probably one of the best you have had, he had left no expenses. He appeared to be interested in your work, about your childhood and about Grace’s but you swiftly avoided his questions about her father. He was growing a tad bit too comfortable for your liking and you still refused to entertain the idea that this was a ‘date’ date.

When you were finally onto dessert, the last course of your meal, your table was shadowed by the broad frame of a brunette and his date. He clapped Steve’s shoulder and Steve rose to hug him, you awkwardly smiled.

“It’s been far too long since you’ve been here, Cap. Why don’t you and your gorgeous date stop by my penthouse for a bit? We could finally go over the papers you sent me, in person?” He winked, they discussed something more and then went away, his date bowing and trailing after him as well.

Steve claimed his seat again, and finally told you about the interrupter. “That was my good friend, Tony Stark, always in a hurry. I’ll introduce you to him when we meet him later.”

“I think I’ll be heading home; you need not worry about my introduction, I hardly think we’ll ever run into each other again.” His eyes narrowed and you clarified, “Me and Mr. Stark, I meant.”

That’s good, don’t associate yourself with more of his kind.

“He was so kind in inviting you though, it would be rude to refuse.”

“It’s already late, Steve. And I’ve never left Grace alone for a night yet. What if she’s antsy? What if she is bothered? What if she feels unsafe? She's only used to very few people, and after last week, I-” You had started the sentence hoping to use Grace as an excuse but every word of yours succeeded in making you more apprehensive.

The carnival night flashed in your mind, along with the nightmares and you started panicking even more. Your hands clammy, your dessert spoon fell in your lap as sought your phone in your purse, hoping to call Wanda for an update. You felt like a terrible mother, who left her child with a stranger, only a week after she suffered trauma, just to go on a date with a mobster.

Steve reached across the table and grabbed your fidgety hands and as you wriggled to get your hands free, he softly called your name. Voice stern but vocals gentle. Your blurry eyes snapped to meet his while he guided you to breathe deeply, in and out.

His firm hold convinced you to listen to him, you’d never free yourself of them otherwise.

When you had calmed a bit, he withdrew his hands and fetched his phone. Your thoughts slowed down, and you wondered if anyone here was judging you. Your little scene, mercifully, went unnoticed by the other affluent people dining here.

Steve handed you his phone where four colored frames rested, the screen showing you Grace and Sarah cuddled in a frilly, pink four poster where Wanda sat too, her lips moving.

The feed was live and the screen muted, both the toddlers’ eyes fluttering close slowly, on the bridge of sleep.

You handed the phone back to Steve and drank your water while he rubbed circles on the back of one of your hands. You never freaked out like you did right now, always collected and never giving into anxiety. What had happened to you?

Well, In your defense, you had never experienced a disaster either.

“The kids are safe; I’m never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

Your mind did catch the plural in his statement but you promised yourself you would not let it get that far and continued drinking your water, emptying the entire glass.

“The HD image you just saw was by cameras Tony recently developed. His technology is amazing, I’ll take you to his lab sometime.” You appreciated his attempt to redirect the topic but you also focused on how tech-savvy his friends were as well.

You hummed and agreed, trying to be ambiguous with your answer.

When you finished your dessert, you hoped he’d forget about his ‘friend’ Tony but to no avail.

“His penthouse is two floors above. He owns this hotel as well in case you didn’t notice.” He led you to the elevator as you recalled the Starks Group logo you saw earlier sometime.

Some AI named Jarvis opened the elevator doors for you in the living room of Tony’s penthouse. It was even more magnificent than the restaurant earlier, the place illuminated by several hues of different colours. Steve chuckled and strung you along, introducing you to a ginger-head named Pepper, who was Tony’s date earlier and went to search for his acquaintance.

She offered you wine but you politely declined, opting for water instead. She brought your glass to you from the extravagant kitchen and you both sat on the barstool there instead of the living room. Too anxious to say the wrong thing, you stayed quiet until her voice filled the deafening silence.

“So, Steve almost never brings dates around. You two serious?” She questioned, leaning towards you, waiting for some gossip, no doubt.

“Oh no! We aren’t dating. He just invited me for a friendly dinner. We merely met the other week.” You deliberately left out the part where there was bombing by crime families and attack on the common man.

“Honey, in the mob life, you don’t just introduce random people to the fam.”

Oh, she wasn’t being shy about the whole mob ordeal. It seemed weird to hear it from her, since you and Steve hadn’t used the word yet. Maybe he figured you already knew considering the circumstances you met in or how famous he was.

“We really aren’t romantically involved. This dinner was just a gesture of gratitude if I’m being truthful.”

She chuckled, as if you were a kid making stories and quizzed, “Gratitude for what?”

You trapped yourself into that one. You didn’t know how to answer her and your brain downright blanked. Surprisingly,, Steve came to your rescue and two voices interposed your conversation.

Steve called your name and as you turned to the men, he continued, “She’s the one who saved Sarah the other night. You know the story, Wilson probably got it printed.”

“Impressive, really. Hey, I’m Tony and I see you’ve already met Pepper, my fiancée.” He shook your hand and kissed your knuckles, much like Steve did earlier in the day. You bowed, smiled and mumbled a ‘nice to meet you as well’. They escorted you to the elevator and Tony continued.

“Well, it’s not everyday Steve brings brave and extraordinarily attractive women around. Welcome to the family, sweetie. She’s a keeper, Cap.” He winked while saying the last sentence and before you could correct him, Steve ushered you inside the elevator, bro-hugging him. As the doors closed, Pepper winked at you from behind Tony and a shudder ran through you.

Okay you had to make it clear, get on the same page.

As the elevator music filled the silence, you started, “Steve, look we aren’t-”, “I served in the army, that’s why Tony calls me Cap, short for captain.” And crudely got interrupted.

“I never wanted to get into the army, I thought people were fools to sacrifice the one life they got. But I went to make my mother’s dream a reality, I really loved her, you know? Sarah is named after her, my mother.”

His voice broke at the end and as much as you wanted to redirect onto your former topic, you couldn’t. This amiability of yours would be the death of you.

“She died alone in her bed; I was dispatched too far away to even make it back for her funeral.” He mumbled but you heard him clear as a sunny day, and he leaned back onto the wall for support while you awkwardly rubbed his shoulder to return the support he provided earlier during your mental breakdown.

He closed his eyes and gathered himself, taking deep breaths. As the elevator dinged, his eyes opened and he gave you a strained smile.  

The car ride to his mansion was painfully silent, his mind too sidetracked to focus on harassing you again. With all that you went through today, you almost forgot about that.

His mansion was enormous, twenty guards stood outside and even more patrolled the lawn. He took you inside his house, the interior even more detailed and scenic than Tony’s temporary residence.

You just concentrated on swiftly getting Grace and Uber-ing back. As Steve showed you earlier, Grace and Sarah hugged and slept and it was a meticulous task to untangle their limbs without waking either of them up andnd get Grace with her back-pack. You thanked Wanda on the way out, hoping to avoid Steve but somehow he stood outside before you, leaning on his sleek black car. He opened the door for you before you could refuse the ride. You settled with Grace in the backseat itself, trying to be smart.

He just summoned one of his guards to drive and sat alongside you in the back. You didn’t let the annoyance at his clinginess show though. You just focused on Grace who drooled over your shoulder.

Hopefully, there won’t be any point of exposure to him ever again, your circles didn’t match, both social and professional. Your Venn diagrams didn’t overlap anywhere. This should be reason enough to avoid meeting ever again.

He didn’t try anything even this ride around. You doubted it was hardly because of the toddler or because of the driver. He did as he pleased, if he wanted to he could very well grope you. Luckily, he wasn't in the mood.

When you reached your dwelling, you stepped out hastily, thanking him in a whisper. You fumbled to get your keys out, but since everything you held slowed you down, he caught up with you without even trying.

He took and held Grace’s bag while you drew the keys out, Grace still on your hip. He handed you the bag back, “So this is it, I guess?”

“Yeah, tonight was a total delight. Thanks for the dinner and everything, really.” You put up your best façade, hoping to convince him.

“It was, thanks to you. The company matters the most.”

You awkwardly chuckled and you sensed him leaning in, his eyes flickering shut. Your eyes closed as you turned your head to avoid him, so that his lips would peck your cheek.

They never came.

Your eyes opened to find his and he chuckled, leaning in once again swiftly, catching you off guard this time. He didn’t meet your lips though, he kissed the corner of your mouth, lips overlapping for a fraction of skin.

“In due time, baby.” He stepped back and strolled to his car leisurely, content in his own world.

You opened your door and slammed it shut, the peck feeling wrong on so many levels. It felt more sensual than a lover’s kiss, leaving room for intimacy and longing.

Your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers an hour, the most absurd but nauseatingly true being, this was a date and it was not your last encounter.

Steve smirked outside in his car, the dinner an absolute success in his opinion. Tonight just made him feel that you both were more than compatible for each other. You needing him during your mental breakdown, him relaxing under your shy touch, Tony’s approval, not that important though, and your anxiety for Grace was the best part, because he, more often than he’d like to admit, fussed about Sarah the same way, agonizing and fretting her well being.

A text lit up his black screen and his grin widened even more if possible.

‘The Stark cameras are up and working, Sir.’

#dark fic #dark mcu #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #Steve Rogers #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #mcudarklibrary #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #marvel fic #mob au #mob!steve #mafia!steve rogers #Mob!steve x reader #dark! mob! steve rogers #mafia au #ray writes #just my type #Lipstick and Crayons #Lipstick and Crayons series

[thedamageofherdays]

This week's [23-08-2021 - 29-08-2021] reading log is here! I read a lot again this week and I feel like it's a lovely variety of fics. Most fics are Stucky like usual, but there's at least one other ship. I am constantly amazed by the talent people have in this fandom! There was one fic I read on Tumblr that I can't seem to find unfortunately, but when I do I'll make sure to reblog and rec it 💕

Favourites are marked with a 🌻

When life gives you lemons by moonthejedi394 @moonythejedi394 [Stucky, 40k words, Mature] (12/15 chapters available)

Or 13 Terrible Things to Do With Lemons Other Than Making Lemonade

Steve Rogers is a home health nurse. He works for an agency, which assigned him to the aging Winifred Barnes, the one and only Silent Era Hollywood darling. As her needs increased, she requested the agency assign Steve to her full-time. She could pay for it, so she got it. Steve then moved in with her, becoming her caregiver; he cooked, he cleaned, he managed her medications, he made sure she was comfortable.

Winifred's children treated him less than ideally. He was the help, after all. And then Steve had the audacity to go and turn out to be eldest son James Barnes's soulmate. No one saw that coming.

The Masseur and the Assassin by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy @buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 17k words, Explicit]

Bucky Barnes needed a vacation from his job. What he found was a happy ending.

The Words Breathe by buckbarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

All Steve has to do is keep his promise. When he doesn’t, Bucky gets mouthy.

Soft by this_wayward_life @wayward-lives [Stucky, 2k words, Explicit]

The last time he'd seen Bucky he'd looked unhealthy, with pallid skin and greasy, lanky hair. Now, Bucky shone; his hair was thick and silky, his skin a deep bronze from spending so much time outside. He was softer, too; the hard muscle that used to cover him was now replaced by soft fat, his body still strong, but in a more mundane way. His thighs were thicker, his ass plumper, and when he'd pulled Steve into the river Steve had noticed the pudge on his stomach.

Seeing Bucky so happy, well-fed and shining, was a bit of a kick in the face. For all the years they'd known each other, he'd never seen Bucky so... care-free. Now that Bucky was putting on weight, his middle soft and his body malleable, it sent a bolt of arousal through Steve every time he noticed the curves of Bucky's body.

Or: Bucky put on a bit of weight in Wakanda, and Steve is Not Coping.

🌻 Revive Another Side of Me by dontcallmebree @iamthe-wo-manwhocan [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Steve’s never lived in a world without Bucky, and he’s not living now. It takes them a while, much too long, to get that awaited rest, a little slice of peace after the dust has settled.Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are inseparable, history remembers. But they’re not men of the past quite yet.

🌻 imagine being loved by me by spacebuck @spacebuck [Stucky, 20k words, Explicit]

Just after 1am - a few hours after he posted today’s photo - he hears the tell-tale sound of a twitter message. Bucky grabs his phone, not checking who it’s from as he opens it because it’s probably one of his mutuals yelling at him as per usual. When he actually looks at his phone, though, it’s not Natasha

The ‘verified’ check stares back at him for a long moment before he can even bring himself to process the name on his screen. Steve Rogers is messaging him. Or, he reasons, a very good fake. The handle looks right though, not that Bucky knows. Not that Bucky has Captain’s America’s tweets set up as notifications, or that Bucky’s own display name is set to captain america’s bitch. Not at all.

Hey, the first message says. It’s Steve.

🌻 JB’s Complete Lube Services by dixons_mama @dixons-mama [Stucky, 3k words, Explicit]

People just didn’t approach Captain America and proposition him. Although, sometimes Steve wished they would; even the pinnacle of virtue and justice needed to get dicked down from time to time.

Or, the one where Steve has the hots for a mechanic and decides to be proactive in getting that dick.

If it had to be someone by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Bucky had known since he was a child that he didn’t have a choice in who he married, but he’d thought he had more time before the day arrived.

Miscalculations by christywantspizza @christywantspizza [Ransom Drysdale/Reader, 6k words, Explicit]

Ransom tries to get you to sleep with him by less than honorable means. You give him what he wants, just not how he wants it.

How to Seduce a Writer by obsessivereader [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

What's a determined master strategist going to do when the oblivious writer he's trying to woo keeps missing all the clues?

He doesn’t think it’s because he hadn’t signaled his own interest to Bucky. He’s pretty much done everything short of hitting Bucky over the head with semaphore flags by this point. There’s no way Bucky could’ve missed them. Unless… There’d been that one link he’d stumbled upon when he’d googled ‘how to talk to a writer’. It’d been written by a writer, who’d been candid about how oblivious writers could be, and how someone could go about seducing one. An idea starts to form. It’s ridiculous, but at this point, he’s willing to go with ridiculous, since subtle wasn’t getting him anywhere.

🌻 Pod Bless America by Deisderium @deisderium [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

Bucky can't believe his favorite podficcer recorded his newest fanfic AU of the show Commandos. He's even more surprised when the customer who busts him listening to fic while he's working in the office supply store turns out to be that podficcer.

* The guy—maybe bi_shield?—took his phone, looked down at the screen, and smiled. "Yeah, that one's mine," he said with no evidence of embarrassment. "It was a good one." He handed the phone back to Bucky.

"I wrote it," Bucky croaked.

take a bite by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 7k words, Mature]

"I’d never let anyone freeze to death.” Steve gives a big sigh and flutters his lashes. “All that blood gone to waste.”

Bucky’s lips turn down and his nose scrunches up a little. “I want to be grossed out, but…”

“But you get it.” Steve gives him a pointed look. “Vampires aren’t the only ones who can appreciate how juicy blood is.”

*

Or: Vampire Steve saves newly-turned werewolf Bucky from a snowstorm.

Leaving the Shield Behind by BuckyAboveEverything [Stucky, 6k words, Teen]

“So, on one hand, we have Steve Rogers - hunk, genius, animal lover. Buys you waffles and overpriced coffee. 100% wholesome all-American boy.”

“And, on the other hand, we have Capsicle – twink, smart-ass, fanboy. Reads your stories and sends you fanart. Possibly a pervert or a serial killer.”

Bucky groaned.

“I am 100% certain I am 0% sure of what to do."

Bucky Barnes, full-time copywriter and free-time fanfic writer, struggles to choose between two equally-attractive suitors, only to find that he doesn’t have to after all.

* Based on a true story *

Cap's Book Corner by Neche [Stucky, 2k words, Teen]

Recluse Author Bucky Barns stumbles into fanboy Steve Rogers bookstore one day...

Cat Nap by galwednesday @galwednesday [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Objectively, losing the Bucharest safehouse and its contents was the least of Bucky’s problems. The balding agent he’d seen directing the raid was apparently affiliated with SHIELD, which was a shadowy government agency that made representatives from other shadowy government agencies suddenly remember urgent appointments when Bucky tried to bribe, threaten, and otherwise shake them down for information on what the hell SHIELD might want with a former brainwashed assassin. Dodging SHIELD should be his number one priority.

Subjectively, he wanted his fucking cat back.

at any given moment by honeypuffed [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

Steve and Bucky find out that everyone thinks they're sleeping together.

Brought to Brightness by eyres [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

Army veteran Bucky Barnes has fallen in love with Steve, a guy he met online a few months after he returned from Afghanistan. Only problem is, he doesn't know Steve's last name or even what he looks like.

When his sister helps him send his story into MTV's Catfish, he's hoping they can help him meet Steve or, at least, let him move on with his life if Steve isn't real. Little does he know, Steve and Captain America have more in common than just a first name.

🌻 Nokken Wood by leveragehunters @leveragehunters [Stucky, 10k words, Teen]

When Sam's friend needs a house-sitter for his place in the country, Steve jumps at the chance. Six months rent-free to do nothing but draw and paint and wander the countryside, looking for inspiration? It was like a dream. But when he gets lost in a storm and nearly falls into a pond he starts to rethink the whole like a dream aspect of life in the country. And when a red-eyed, sharp-clawed, silver-fanged creature rises out of the darkness, Steve is one hundred percent certain the dream's morphed into a nightmare.

...until it gives him a cup of tea.

(Inspired partly by this prompt a supernatural creature is supposed to scare you but instead it gives you a cup of tea and a blanket because you're having a bad day and you keep coming back and partly by this painting.)

Professional Pride by galwednesday [Stucky, 700 words, Teen]

Bucky is having a very good day, until he turns around and finds himself face-to-face with Captain America.

“Oh shit,” he blurts before he can stop himself, and Captain America blinks at him. “Hey, hi, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Here, at New York’s Pride parade, surrounded by thousands of happy screaming people wearing rainbows and sometimes not much else. What is he doing here? Is he on guard duty or something? Was he just on a mission and happened to be passing by on his way back?

He’s in uniform but with the cowl loose around his neck, so when he rubs the back of his head it fluffs up his matted hair. “I, uh. I saw one of your–temporary tattoos?” Captain fucking America says, like it’s a question.

The A-bridged Guide to Trolling by galwednesday [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

“I don’t have any money.”

Oh no, now the girl looked upset. Her eyes were huge and her lip was wobbling. Bucky tried to think fast despite the oh shit oh shit oh shit looping through his head.

“That’s okay,” Bucky said gently. “I don’t need money. We can figure out another kind of toll.”

The girl frowned at him. “Like what?”

Bucky scratched his head, trying to think of something a kid was certain to have on hand. “Do you know any jokes?”

(Fantasy AU in which Steve is a hedge witch with a green thumb, Bucky is a bridge troll who's new in town, and knock-knock jokes are a viable form of currency.)

It's a bittersweet ending (if you know what I mean) by relenafanel [Stucky, 1k words, Teen]

“I’ll see you around, Steve,” Bucky answers with a smirk, moving away from the counter with a wink.

Steve watches him go. Bucky’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans coated in something to give the appearance of leather. It’s impossible to not watch him go.

stuck on you by wearing_tearing [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

“Bucky? You don’t look so hot.”

Bucky makes a tiny little sound in the back of his throat, only to start coughing. Of course he doesn’t look hot. He’s sick and he’s dying and Steve obviously isn’t attracted to him.

Decision-Making in Relationships (Paid Research Opportunity!) by castiowl [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

Clint looked thoughtfully at the flyer. “I guess your actual roommate wouldn’t be down with it?”

Bucky frowned. “Have you met Steve Rogers?”

no way out but through by hollimichele [Stucky, 9k words, Teen]

Steve never sees it coming.

you got blood on your hands (and i know it's mine) by nighimpossible [Stucky, 3k words, Teen]

Bucky refuses to see Steve after his deprogramming.

Like What You See by daisymondays [Stucky, 8k words, Teen]

For all the time Bucky’s spent fantasizing about meeting Captain America, he’d never imagined it would be while posing nude in front of a drawing class.

🌻 A Real Boy by itsnotbleak [Stucky, 5k words, Teen]

It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat.

It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

Amapola by chaya [Stucky, 830 words, Teen]

Total fluff. Bucky's recovering nicely. Steve's oblivious. Sometimes it's best to set aside subtlety for action.

Knocking Boots With Sugar by buckybarnesdeservestobehappy [Stucky, 4k words, Explicit]

In between summers at college, Steve Rogers wants a new adventure beyond his lonely life in Brooklyn. He ends up in West Texas working on a dude ranch where Bucky Barnes is a long-time employee. When Bucky offers to buy Steve a drink, they end up drunk on tequila and making out in public. For the rest of the summer, they're inseparable. As the summer draws to a close, Steve realizes he doesn't want to leave.

Rogers and Associate by roe87 @jro616 [Stucky, 7k words, Teen]

When they first meet, Bucky is a hooker and Steve is a cop. She's been arrested, but Steve lets her off.

Years pass and they maintain a casual friendship, seeing each other out on the streets most nights.

Though he later makes detective, Steve loses faith in the system and quits his job.

He wants to set up as a private investigator, and he asks Bucky if she'd be his assistant.

Just in time by rainbow_nerds [Stucky, 1k words, Mature]

Bucky knew the apartment he was renting was old fashioned, but walking in the front door and finding himself transported back to 1938 was not on the list of things he had prepared himself for.

🌻 You Like What's in My Head by dontcallmebree [Stucky, 15k words, Explicit] (with art by @kocuria)

Bucky can’t decide if Steve’s a tough nut to crack or incredibly easy. The timbre of his voice, a low and almost amused, “Sure, kid,” when Bucky asks for a drink feels like something gripping him on the back of his neck.

He thinks this might be one of those moments in life he’ll pinpoint in the future and either curse at for dooming himself, or remember fondly with pride.

He’s right. Bucky Barnes blunders through falling in love with Commander Rogers and tries to find a deeper meaning behind the expensive gifts and thorough fucking.

Can I Sit Here? by BuckyFrickenBarnes [Stucky, 962 words, General]

Bucky has unusual methods for getting rid of his writer's block.

Or, Bucky needs that table.

Workplace Romance by BuckyFricken Barnes [Stucky, 1k words, General]

Bucky is under the impression that his boss hates him.

Or,

Steve needs to get better at dealing with his feelings.

🌻 1-800-MAYTAG by Miss Plum @misspluckyplum [Stucky, 1k words, Explicit]

Bucky just wants to get some housework done. It gets out of hand fast. Silly little fluff and smut romp with snarky stucky boys.

Eyes of the Forest by Lordelannette [Stucky, 7k words, Explicit] (2/8 chapters available)

When Omega Bucky Barnes comes to Eagle Lake, it was in search of wolves, a creature that had not been seen in the area for decades.

What he finds instead is Steve Rogers, a handsome, though quiet Alpha who seems to be everywhere in the forest.

#r's reading log #my reading log #fic rec #stucky #stucky fic rec #fic recs #stevebucky #long post

[katieraven]

sleep is so tough

Summary: your attempt at dealing with losing Bucky is unsuccessful and results in a sleepless night - for several reasons.

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes/female reader

Warnings: angst!!, happy ending (because I can't write sad endings for the life of me), a lot of metaphors, thoughts about death, loss and grieving, a tiny description of a panic attack

Word count: 3227

Notes: @babycap you wonderful human! 600 followers is huge and i am very happy about this fic. the prompt was: "I wanna be in your touch / Sleep is so tough" - James Bay, Chew On My Heart and I wrote a lil something that i'm kinda happy with. do enjoy!

love,

katie

It’s the same nightmare. You recognise it from the last three weeks, you’ve been here before. Doesn’t make it easier to shake out of it. You watch him convulse, face torn and twisted somewhere between pain and the desperate attempt to keep his free will. The fight against the venomous words the HYDRA agent hurls at him. They’re like daggers, needles stuck into his brain, rewiring him. And all you can do is watch. You are frozen in place in the torture your subconsciousness puts you through. Again. And again. And again.

You can’t will your eyes to tear away from him. He snarls like a cornered animal at the agents around him. Then the final words. “грузовой вагон“. Freight car. You don’t know Russian, but those ten phrases have been burned into your brain. You could recite them in your sleep.

Bucky stills. He slowly stands up from his crouched position, cold stare fixed onto the speaking agent. “Я готов отвечить“.

You startle awake, the nightmare finally loosening its grasp on your consciousness. Immediately, your hands fly to the other side of the bed. It is cold and empty and your stomach drops when realisation hits you like a punch to the gut.

This is not a nightmare. At least not entirely, no. It is a memory. Because you saw the footage. You saw Bucky convulse and bend and snap and straighten. And you saw Steve, heard his scream as Sam pulled him away, forcing him to leave his best friend in the hands of his torturers. Steve knows it was the right thing to do. You do, too. The thought of Bucky being all alone behind enemy lines still makes your breath hitch in your throat, though.

They didn’t want you to see the footage, it wasn’t supposed to be something you get confronted with. But you slipped into the room, originally meaning to talk to Natasha about some software to try out in the next mission. They didn’t notice you entering, eyes trained on a screen, FRIDAY running facial recognition in the background. They kept playing the footage over, and over, and over, and again, looking for any kind of clue as to where they could find him, until your knees gave out under you and you fell with a whimper leaving your throat. Natasha was the first to understand the situation. Steve let out a string of colourful curses you would have never stopped teasing him about, hadn’t you been trying to wrap your mind around what you just saw.

If you had known they were back already, you would have noticed him missing and asked. But you didn’t even know they were back. And then he was gone.

You finally open your eyes. The New York night tints the white ceiling a blueish sort of grey and you feel like someone painted the inside of your heart onto the concrete. A perfect replica. Grey inside. Empty. Broken and alone, left to try and fail to put yourself back together.

Your fingers curl into a fist around the cold and empty bedsheets. They have been empty for three weeks now, and your body has no tears left to give. So you lie there, silent sobs violently breaking free from the void that is your chest. Sometimes you don’t know if your heart is beating, still, and your hands can’t find it in them to check. It wouldn’t be so bad to die, you think. There’s not much keeping you here.

Steve visits every few days. He carries the same hollow look in his eyes, like someone snuffed out the light behind them and carelessly forgot to turn it back on. With the sole difference that he is better at hiding it. It is only when he thinks nobody is watching that the sticky navy blue ink that is grief seeps into his face and turns his eyes empty and his face pale. You don’t mention it.

You know it’s supposed to help, sharing grief. Which is why you open the door when he visits, and don’t turn him away. He needs it, too, you suppose. So you sit on your sofa in front of the tv and watch something stupid and mindless that none of you pay attention to and both of you pretend to find acutely intriguing whenever the other is looking.

It’s all a giant game of pretend. SHIELD is feigning confidence in finding him. Everyone else oozes positivity whenever they talk about the mission. But it’s false, and hollow, and the truth of it sneers at you through translucent optimism.

You turn your head to look at the alarm clock on your bedside table. 4:36 a.m. That means you slept an astonishing three hours. That’s two more than yesterday. You’re not afraid of the nightmares anymore. You know they will come. The terror shaking you night after night has become a companion, just as the grief following closely in everything you do. It looms over you at night, hides in the shadows behind the furniture in your living room, joined by Steve’s whenever he’s there.

You were afraid to fall asleep, yes. Pulled two all-nighters in the first days after. By now you have learned to read the signs your body so openly presents you with and you know you will not fall asleep again tonight. So you lie there, hand splayed over the empty right side of the bed, eyes staring through the ceiling.

Fuck, you miss him. It rolls over you unexpectedly and your body seizes, curling up into a fetal position as your obviously alive and beating heart pumps sharp agony through your veins. He is gone. You know, of course, you understood before and this feeling is familiar, but for the first time, it truly settles inside you. Bucky is gone.

The man you imagined a future with, who handed you his broken and bruised heart and trusted you to fix it, is gone. The charming wooden home near the sea you always talked about when his nightmares were too much and too real slowly turns to dust between your grasping fingers. You feel it slip. The bell-like high pitched laughter of a young child evaporating in your mind.

You feel your heart break. There has been a dull ache in your chest for weeks. You’ve gotten used to it, embraced it into your menagerie of demons and ghosts, grief and loss. But it betrays you, right now, as you feel your heart pound against the cage of your ribs, and it burns. You still lie curled into yourself, blanket tangled between your legs. You will explode. You feel it with a new certainty, this will kill you. You breathe in and out, you know you do, but none of the air arrives in your lungs. It leaves you desperately gasping for oxygen.

Until you realise none of it is real. Because your heart is not here in your room with you, your heart lies in the mismatched hands of a broken soldier somewhere between here and the sea. It can’t kill you here, because there is an organ-sized hole in your chest and the coldness of the world tears at your exposed ribcage with icy shrapnel-sharp claws. Does it bleed? If so, you can’t feel the warmth. Blood is warm, right? Bucky always said it is.

You exhale slowly. Will your seizing muscles to relax, to let you go. To your surprise they do, and you inhale again, cold night air. It doesn’t yet escape through the wound in your chest. The hole hasn’t reached your lungs yet. But you know it will consume you, leave no part of you untouched, unbroken, will rip you apart for all your demons to finally feast on what is left of you.

Maybe he will find you first, you muse. Maybe HYDRA will find the last bit of mercy in them and send him after you, to cut his strings. You know you will not fight when he does. It would be a sweet oblivion with his eyes the last thing you see. Grey irises like molten silver when the sunlight hits just right.

Your arms fold against your chest. The skin is whole, not a scratch, no bleeding wound. You know it can’t be true. It is simply your minds way of processing this pain. Your imagination fixed the hole but you know it’s still there, still gaping. You can feel the edges burning where the hole ends and the marred skin starts. But you live. Still this broken body carries you on, one day after another.

You sit up in your sheets, hair plastered against your forehead by the thin film of sweat covering your body. As your back straightens, the metallic clinking of dog tags root you into this reality and you pull them out from under one of Bucky’s black shirts you’re wearing.

“Keep these,” he murmurs and presses something hard into your open palm. You look down and see the two thin pieces of metal piled on top of each other, embossed letters spelling his name, his full name. Your stunned eyes flicker back up into his and you open your mouth to protest, but he shushes you with a finger.

“It’s not like I need them. If I die, this thing” – he gestures to his arm – “will tell everyone who I am. But I want you to have these.”

Your thumb smoothes over the plates, shoving them against each other. “I mean … I won’t complain, but why do you …?”

He shrugs, embarrassment tinting his cheeks. “I don’t know, I guess it feels like a part of me stays with you, y’know? A physical part. So that you have something real to hold onto until I’m back.”

It hits you, then, that he’s leaving. He picks the tags up and puts them around your neck and you reach for his hands, fingers closing around his forearms. “Don’t leave me, Bucky. Please, I can’t lose you –“

He puts his hands on either side of your face and kisses your nose, before looking directly at you. “You won’t lose me, you hear? I’ll always be with you. Always.”

But now he’s gone, and you close your fist around the metal tags until they push into your palms, and harder until they cut the delicate skin. You want to be angry at him but you can’t. It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault he couldn’t keep his promise.

You steady your breathing. Eyes wander to the red numbers on your alarm. 5:23. No use trying to sleep anymore, you decide, and sit up. Might as well make coffee. Maybe you can get something done today. Clean the laundry up at least, so Steve doesn’t have this awfully concerned look on his face next time he visits.

It takes you a couple of minutes to actually, physically, move. In your mind you’re already in the kitchen, filling the coffee maker with water and watching the coffee slowly dribble into the pot below. It has something therapeutic, one drop at a time. Almost meditative.

But, well, you do have to walk over into the kitchen to reach this point of short-lived meditative oblivion. So you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, and your eyes fall onto the covered mirror in the corner. It’s floor-length, and you used to love being able to admire your whole outfit in there without having to stand on your tiptoes.

Like that one time before one of Tony’s extravagant galas, when you tried to get a good look at yourself and the glamourous dress that, as Natasha had pointed out, would look amazing on your figure. She had been right – naturally. But the tiny mirror in your bathroom hadn’t shown the whole thing and so you were leaning over the sink to try and look. Which was exactly the moment Bucky chose to walk into the room, only to promptly wear an affectionately amused smirk on his face, assuring you of your otherworldly beauty (“Oh come on, Buck, don’t mock me – “ “I’m not, you are otherworldly, doll, dazzling even!”) and pointing out that you were in desperate need of a floor-length mirror.

In the first few days of Bucky’s absence, you hung a bedsheet over it because you couldn’t bear the memory. In fact, you can’t recall the last time you actually looked at yourself. With utmost certainty, though, you can say that your skin must be grey and sunken and the darkened circles under your eyes a deeper shade of purple than when you were knee-deep in college finals. God, that time seems ages away. If you hadn’t gone to college then maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation – you would have certainly never ended up at SHIELD. For a second you wish you hadn’t. This pain would not be part of your reality, then.

But then again, you wouldn’t have met him at all. And as much as this, right now, hurts, you wouldn’t trade it with any reality in the universe if it meant not knowing him. Not loving him. Not knowing his deepest, darkest secrets that he only opened up about after one particularly bad nightmare, with his head in your lap, not daring to meet your eyes.

No, if this pain is the price for his love then you will take it. You will let it eat at you until there is nothing left except your hollowed shell of a body because it will have been worth it.

You walk past the covered mirror and open the door, bare feet against the cold kitchen floor. You go to reach for the coffee maker when something registers with you. Something out of place, a slight inconsistency in your regulated, never-changing surroundings. You barely see it in your periphery.

Your movements still and your head slowly turns toward what is undoubtedly someone sitting in your living room. The moonlight glints on his left shoulder and you realise, within the smallest fractions of a second, who it is.

The hollow excuse for a heart that sits in your chest sputters and stills, before springing back into action twice as fast. He came back.

A steady stillness settles over you as you understand the situation. They sent him. Loose ends and all. Yet you’re not afraid, this death will be quick and quiet. It gives you an odd sensation of peace, to know that his will be the last face you see – even if it is the Winter Soldier’s face. But they’re still Bucky’s eyes.

“It’s okay”, you whisper.

His intent gaze never leaves you as you slowly, deliberately walk towards him, step by step. You know that Bucky is in there, too, and you need him to understand that you accept this. That it is not his fault. That you are ready to die if it is at his hands.

There is an unusual uncertainty in the Soldier’s eyes. You have seen footage of him, cold expression, a sort of stone-hearted efficiency about his movements, never a step too much. He has not moved yet. You feel every bit of skin on your feet connecting to the wooden floor as you move towards him, slowly, but steadily. If this is how you are meant to go, then you will.

You’re only three feet away from him as you stop. His eyes followed you all the way there. Now they start to flicker over your face, your body, confusion slowly but definitely showing in the crinkles on his forehead. He opens his mouth and you hold your breath.

“I –“, it comes out croaky, like he hasn’t used his voice in forever, so he clears his throat and starts again.

“I know you.”

Your lungs deflate, shakily. He hasn’t killed you yet. If he hasn’t killed you yet, why is he here? The Winter Soldier doesn’t hesitate. The uncertainty in his face sparks something deep, deep inside of you that you thought dead by now. Hope.

His eyes find their way back to your face and he is searching it now, not the stoic, cold mask of the Winter Soldier. You don’t dare speak. The fingers of his left hand flex with an electric whirr.

“I know you, but …” he trails off.

His right fist opens, fingers seemingly involuntarily reaching out. You step closer and lower yourself down, bare knees on the wood flooring, eyes not leaving his.

“I remember you.”

His voice is steadier now, more confident that he does, in fact, know you. That there is something inside his brain, something more than just the Soldier. More than just the missions. Just the trigger.

His hand, the real one, reaches towards your face and you close your eyes upon contact, a shaky breath leaving your lips. His index and middle finger trail across your cheekbone. Follow the curve of your lips. Trace your eyebrows. Your eyes flicker open and your breath gets caught in your throat because there he is, there he is, his eyes his own.

“Bucky –“

His name leaves your lips, a choked sob partially escaping. He blinks. Still, his eyes are his own. His lips part and then he whispers your name and you are certain this is a dream. A change of pace from the violent nightmares of late, but still a dream, because this can’t be true. How could it be.

But the hardwood floor is rough against your knees and his hand is warm against your cheek and he is there. He slides off the chair onto the ground before you and you feel hot tears spill from your open, disbelieving eyes. His other hand reaches for your face and then he’s holding you there, so unbelievably gentle, his eyes tortured and lined in purple but undeniably his own.

“You came back”, is the first real thing you say to him.

His thumb smoothes over the dark bruise under your eye, proof of sleepless nights and tired days.

“I’m so sorry”, is the first thing he says to you in his own voice.

You close your eyes, lids pushing tears over the edge and you let them drip down onto your bare thighs as you shake your head, a soft smile on your lips.

“There is nothing you need to be sorry about. None of this was your fault.”

“I – you’re hurt”, he states, matter-of-factly, and your eyes open again.

You try and put everything into your eyes, everything you feel, the hope, the relief, the love. Most of all the love.

“But you’re back. That’s all that matters. Do you hear me?”

His grey irises swim with regret and pain and fear and yet you see love in them. You gently touch your forehead to his and he sighs, eyelids fluttering closed.

“I love you, and you’re back, and that’s all that matters.”

The cold seeps into your body from the floor, your knees scraping against the hardwood. Neither of you dares to move, the calm of the situation too delicate, neither sure if this is real or just a particularly cruel dream. But it is too beautiful to disturb and so both of you remain where you are, hands gently touching the other. Thankful for this moment of peace.

**

Forgot my taglist consisting of one wonderful person: @mannien

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Bucky Barnes’ adoptive child

Bucky Barnes x child!reader

warnings: knife

a/n:

prompt: @multifandomlover121: “i adored your natasha romanoff’s child headcanons! could you do one with bucky barnes and him adopting a child? thank you!!”

bucky saw someone in need and wanted to help them

that someone was you

he would have wanted someone to do the same for him

“are you okay, kid?”

“i’m fine...”

“are you sure?”

“...no”

you kinda started crying and ran off

but that wasnt the last time he had seen you

the more he’d run into you, the more he’d check on you, offer you food/water/shelter

“i really don’t mind, it’s the least i could do”

“are you sure?”

“i am”

you began to trust bucky more as time went on, he really was helpinh you out of the kindness of his heart

and buck became more protective of you, of course

soon enough he saw you as his child and you saw him as your father, neither of you had had a bond like that before

“i’m going to the market, do you want anything?”

“uh, peaches?”

“got it, be back in a while, don’t answer the door for anyone”

“got it, pa”

that was the first time you called him “pa” and he shut the door behind him and stood there in SHOCK he was so ???!!!!

you asked him about his life, and at first he didn’t want to tell you much

“pleaseee? it all seems so interesting”

“well, i don’t remember it much. and everything i do remember isn’t very great”

“is that why you’re lying low?”

“yeah...that’s one of them”

“can you tell my how you got your metal arm?”

you tried not to pry but you were disappointed that he wouldn’t open up to you

he knew just about everything about the short past you had, all the highs and lows of your messy childhood before he met you

bucky lived in a one bedroom apartment, so he gave you the bedroom and slept on the couch

honestly you guys led your lives mainly inside the apartment just to stay safe

and filling the day was a bit difficult, but you managed

“can i watch tv?”

“after the news”

“you said that twenty minutes ago”

“well, it’s not over yet. just watch it with me”

“can i pleaaaase watch tv?”

that “pleaaaase” always makes him cave

you two also baked together! it calms his nerves

especially when he can smell cookies/brownies/cake/etc baking in the oven, it’s his favorite

“are you sure we’re making these right, y/n?”

“no, i am not.”

helping him clean his arm sometimes

he couldn’t get in the crevices

one day you were watching tv and it said that bucky was wanted for a bombing, which couldnt be true because that was in vienna and you were far from there

“so that’s what you didn’t want to tell me? you’re a...”

“a terrorist? an assassin? an 100 year old man? i...i wish i wasn’t, but i had no choice. i can’t remember everything that happened to me, but i don’t want to. this new life is good for me and you. and i promise i would never do anything to hurt you”

“i know, pa, i trust you more than anyone else on earth. but...what does this mean for us now? the whole world is looking for you”

“nothing, they wont find us here. i’m going to the market for plums, though. keep the door and windows locked”

“yes sir”

“love you, kid”

“love you, pa”

and the next thing you know the door has been opened and you do not know what to do so you hide because that’s the plan you and bucky came up with just in case and next thing you know there’s sounds of fighting, things breaking, yelling

it’s time to come out

“pa? pa, where are you?”

“y/n, get down!”

“bucky, who is that?” -cap

“my kid”

steve immediately: ????¿???

ur WHAT

anywhooo you ended up running with them and not able to keep up bc they were kinda enhanced 100 year old men and you were baby

so the falcon, the REAL DEAL MAN RIGHT THERE had to give you a helping hand

“you doing alright, kid?”

“to be honest, i’ve never flown before”

✨getting arrested with pa and the crew✨

you sat next to steve rogers

“so, you’re bucky’s...child?”

“he took me in a while ago, we were both in a dark place”

“has he told you about his past?”

“i ask but he cant remember most of it, and what he does remember, he’s too ashamed to say. he just recently told me he used to be an assassin...and he’s and eldery man”

“hey, whatever happens to buck—your dad, i just want to let you know that i’ll be here for you, okay? he was my best friend growing up, i owe it to him”

it’s a feat to be a minor caught by the CIA but look at you go

you had to explain how you and bucky became family, which they were not buying even though every word was true

releasing you to steve bc he had some pull

oh yeah bucky kinda sorta went feral and you insisted you’d be able to calm him down but it doesn’t exactly work that way

“pa! i’m right here, it’s me! please, stop it!”

“y/n, you need to get out of here, it’s not safe!”

“i can’t leave him like this!”

escaping the CIA and waiting for your dad to wake up, this is where he regained his full memory

once he was free of the debris, he gave you a big hug and apologized with tears in his eyes (why the fuck am i rhyming)

“i’m sorry if i scared you, dragă”

“i couldn’t ever be scared of you”

steve was so happy that bucky was happy dhshshshhshs

being pushed in the backseat with pa

sharing your granola bar

since bucky remembered some good thinsg about his past, he thought it may be time to share!

“yeah, so me and steve were best friends, right? steve always picked fights with every bully he met, despite being less than half the weight he is now. i always had to swoop in and save the day”

“i can’t believe you were born in 1917. my father is a world war two veteran”

“how impressive” -sam, also a war vet

honestly they didn’t expect THAT much resistance at the airport but everyone knew you were off limits

excellent spiderman who webbed your hand to a car

luckily, your dad had taught you a thing or two and you got to hacking through these webs with your pocket knife

it took forever

but you finally escaped with your dad and who you’d soon call ‘uncle steve’

black widow nearly stopped you, you were very afraid :)

bucky made u stay in the jet “for your own safety”

“we don’t know what to expect in there, y/n. the last thing i want for you is to get hurt. i should have never dragged you into this”

steve casually talking to bucky about you being unofficially adopted by him

“so, you’re a dad?”

“that i am”

“what’s it like?”

“it’s like...finding a reason to get up every day. and a decent amount of compromise”

“sounds exciting”

“you have no idea”

finally being retrieved from the jet to see your dad with one arm

trippin out

but he told you it was alright

t’challa, new king of wakanda who was trying to end bucky’s life just a few hours ago had apologized and offered you sanctuary in his country

he SPECIFICALLY apologized to you, saying that it was unfair to you by trying to hurt your father because the pain of losing one is unbearable in his eyes

getting some much needed peace (not really bc you wanted to train with wakandan warriors)

and it paid off since you all had to fight off a hoard of aliens

“you think you can handle this, y/n?”

“oh yeah”

you definitely could not handle your dad turning to dust :)

:))))))

“y/n? steve?”

no nope no

steve had to take care of you on bucky’s five year hiatus from life (oh my god im sorry)

not a day went by that you didn’t think of him

it kinda sucked bc you didn’t have any pictures together or anything, only pictures from the 1940’s that steve pulled out every once in a while

“doing okay, y/n?”

“not really”

“do you want to come and watch a movie with me or something? im still not completely caught up on everything i missed”

after five years, there was a breakthrough and it was finally time to get your dad back

but he probably wouldn’t recognize you...you’ll find out soon enough

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedgiant // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm // @ofthedewthesunlight //

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x child!reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x reader

[hissterical-nyaan]

The Promise

Pairing - Bucky Barnes/Desi! Female reader

Warning - Angst, sad ending, more angst

Summary - Bucky Barnes broke one promise that meant the most to Y/N

Word count - 1.5K

A/N - This is my first ever fanfic, I am very anxious so please be gentle with me :) This was created purely to make y'all cry lol. This is a songfic of "Lag ja gale" of Lata Mangeshkar ji. I absolutely adore that song and found it quite fit for this story!!! Also English isn't my first language and there might be grammatical mistakes. Thanks to @soradragon for beta reading this and helping me complete it, you are a blessing. Love you 💙 happy reading folks!

It was  peaceful in Wakanda, a cool night had taken its place from the hot humid air of the day, the stars were shining bright and serenity hung in the air.  It was impossible to imagine what the next day would have in store for everyone. No one had a clue that tomorrow was the day that would change everyone's lives forever.

There was the sound of soft humming coming from the modest hut which housed the one and only the White Wolf and his lover.

Inside was you, singing songs softly in your mother’s tongue before the two would go to bed for the night. It was a nightly ritual the two of you shared. For Bucky had found your voice so soothing it would chase away the recurring nightmares that would haunt his sleep every night. Bucky Barnes was unable to sleep without his love in his arms, without her angelic voice singing for him, and without her soft hand weaving through his hair. 

You had an awful day today, throughout the day you felt anxious and restless. As if your mind has been screaming at you that something bad was about to transpire. You had no idea what, but it was bad. if there is one thing you hated most, it would be not knowing what will happen next.

You liked being prepared for everything! Your distressed state made you itch for your ma's presence and her wise words. So the next best thing to feel like she was there was to sing your ma's favourite song. It was a song you had  beautiful emotional memories attached to.

Lata ji's masterpiece ‘Lag ja gale’. The song that always left you peaceful.

"What's on your mind, chaand? No cheesy love songs today?" Bucky teased lightly, slightly puzzled by the song choice. Normally, you would sing more happy, sweet love songs when you were in a good mood, not to forget how out of character you acted the entire day. 

"Acha? You said you don't like my cheesy songs na, so I thought today I will comply with your wish and not sing my ‘overly romantic, Shona Babu songs.’”  You shot back, poking your tongue out as not to worry him. Bucky pouted slightly.

"Arre baba okay now don't pout, I was just joking. I will sing the cheesy songs again tomorrow, right now this song just feels right to me.” Hearing that, Bucky mumbled a quiet yes and snuggled deeper into you, holding you tightly and moving his head ever so slightly to listen to your voice.  

Lag Ja Gale Ki Phir Ye Hasin Raat Ho Na Ho

Shaayad Phir Is Janam Men Mulaaqaat Ho Na Ho

Lag Jaa Gale Ae Ae… (Embrace me, dear, who knows whether or not this beautiful night will ever come again. Maybe in this life we may or may not meet again)

You remember the first time you met Bucky, in Shuri's lab. You were a   good friend of Shuri. You were a researcher staying in Wakanda with T'challa's permission and eventually befriended the Princess. The two of you loved to talk about anything and nothing. One day Shuri told you about the Winter soldier staying here in Wakanda. You had heard many things about him, but never had you seen him in the flesh. Till you saw him come into the lab, bruised and eyes swiming full of emotions, but the distraught was the most clear in those blue piercing eyes.

It was at that moment that you had decided you would help him, and try to soothe the aches and scars that had been covering his fragile heart. He was put in the cryo soon after your first encounter, but you couldn't help but think about him often.

Ham Ko Mili Hain Aaj Ye, Ghadiyaan Nasib Se

Ji Bhar Ke Dekh Lijiye, Ham Ko Qarib Se

Phir Aap Ke Nasib Men, Ye Baat Ho Na Ho (I have been given today, this time by destiny. To your hearts content see me closely, who knows, if your destiny, may present this situation again.)

Six months later, Bucky came out of the cryo and on his request, was given a small hut away from the palace in the fields. You often saw him, with his tiny herd of goats. You remember how one tiny goat - which Bucky had endearingly called Steve -  was the one who caused you to talk to Bucky. Maybe that's why he was still your favourite goat, afterall he was responsible for giving you the love of your life.

Shaayad Phir Is Janam Men Mulaaqaat Ho Na Ho

Lag Ja Gale Ki Phir Ye Hasin Raat Ho Na Ho (Maybe, in this life, we may or may not meet again. Embrace me dear for this beautiful night may not come again)

Your phone rang suddenly. Bucky moved his head from your lap as you moved to get the phone, it was your brother who was calling you. It puzzled you, it was nearly midnight in India. "Y/N….jaldi aaja yaha… ma aur papa ki car crash ho gayi...I am so sorry, hum unhe bacha nahi paye." You went numb...The words didn’t make sense, you couldn’t make sense of them... Ma papa? No, no this can't be happening. You...you just talked to your mom a few hours ago! Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, holding you so close. He whispered some words into your ear trying to soothe you. But you couldn’t hear them, your mind just kept repeating your brother’s words inside your head like a mantra. That’s when the tears fell, soaking Bucky’s shirt. You didn’t remember you screamed. 

Paas Aaiye Ki Ham Nahin Aaenge Baar-Baar

Baahen Gale Men Daal Ke Ham Ro Le Zaar-Zaar

Aankhon Se Phir Ye Pyaar Ki Barsaat Ho Na Ho (Come closer to me, as I will not be able to come to you every time. Put your arms around me and let us cry our hearts out. Who knows, if our eyes will ever see these tears of love again.)

You couldn’t imagine what you would be without Bucky, your Bucky. He was your rock, You couldn't live a day without him. From the day you confessed your love for each other till today, not a day has gone where he wasn't showering you with love. Even through all his trauma and pain, he did his absolute best to be there for you, his sweet, sweet Y/N.

Shaayad Phir Is Janam Men Mulaaqaat Ho Na Ho

Lag Ja Gale Ki Phir Ye Hassin Raat Ho Na Ho

Shaayad Phir Is Janam Men Mulaaqaat Ho Na Ho

Lag Ja Gale Ki Phir Ye Hassin Raat Ho Na Ho (Maybe, in this life, we may or may not meet again. Embrace me dear for this beautiful night may not come again)

Remembering the past left you in an emotional mess, you didn't even realise when the waterworks started.

"Chaand? Hey, no shhh why are you crying? Is everything okay? Talk to me."

"Bucky?"

"Haan chaand?"

"Promise me that you will never leave me." You uttered in a broken whisper

"I promise."

He broke that promise. Bucky Barnes broke his promise and left his chaand. It happened so fast, the Avengers fighting Thanos, and suddenly everyone turning into dust.

You felt helpless and scared, numb and cold. what was happening? Bucky had told you to not come out of the palace unless told. He didn't want you to be in harm's way. No, his Y/N was too precious, he can't risk it. You reluctantly agreed, but you weren't of much use on the battlefield anyway. You just hoped your love would return to you very soon.

Steve broke the news, and your whole world collapsed in front of your eyes.

"Steve, no..no it can't be... please tell me you are lying. This isn't the time to joke around! Where is he!?" you couldn't help but scream at him. All your dreams, hopes and future with Bucky shattered. He was gone, in just a snap.  It couldn’t be real, this was a sick joke. that had to be it. A sick joke…

But deep inside, you knew it was real. All of it was real. The world around you seemed to crumble, all of it came down, it was as if someone let a glass cup fall and it shattered in a million pieces. Unable to be put back together again…

Now you had no one, no mom and dad, no Bucky...He was your rock wasn't he? He wasn't supposed to go...

After a few days, Steve offered to take you to America with him. The least he could do for his pal was to make sure the girl who had his heart was taken care of. But you couldn't go, it was too painful. Brooklyn will always remind you of Bucky, and you promised him when the time came to go back to his home, you will go together. No, unlike him Y/N L/N knew how to keep her promise.

You went back to India, to start a new life. A miserable one. If only you would have known that the last song you’ve sung to him would come true. 

You never sang your mother's favourite song again

Tagging - @spiderrpcrker @a-dragon-under-the-stars @lil-stark @jacquessouvenier @soradragon (I hope you won't mind me tagging you!) And I also hope you liked it :))

Translations (please let me know if I forgot to translate something) -

Chaand - Moon (an affectionate term in this context)

Acha - Really (in this context, it can mean many things otherwise)

"Y/N….jaldi aaja yaha… ma aur papa ki car crash ho gayi...I am so sorry, hum unhe bacha nahi paye." - "Y/N please come fast here, mom and dad were in an car crash, I am so sorry but we couldn't save them" (ma = mom, papa = dad)

Haan - yes

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #desi fic #marvel fanfic #Bucky Barnes x desi reader #indian reader #marvel #mcu #idk what other tags to use 🤦

[shreddedparchment]

Pseudo Princess Pt.35

Sacrifices to Save the World

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 9,582

Warnings: smut, LOTS of fluff, angst

A/N: (THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! One more to go!) Here it is everyone! The moment I have been waiting for. I can’t really say much and I don’t want to give anything away so, I’ll just let the chapter speak for itself. I also want to say that I’m sorry that I haven’t been as diligent about responding to comments. Trust me when I say that I read and reread them often! I appreciate your thoughts and reactions so much. As always, if you happen to reblog, thank you so much for helping me spread my work!

Tags are closed!

Please DO NOT repost my stories. Reblogs are MOST welcome!

You bustle around the cottage sweeping cat hair and dust, mixing the white of the chalk dust with the crimson blood of Grandmother’s sacrificial cat.

Your attempts to tidy the space is wasted as you’re only making it worse, but rather than focus on her words you prefer to clean.

She watches you from the seat at her table where you placed her. A cup of water gripped in her withered hand, still trembling slightly.

“Stop cleaning, girl!” Grandmother chides, watching you with annoyance as you stop amongst the mess on her floor and throw your hands out to your sides in a clear indication of not understanding.

“What would you have me do?” You ask her, voice tight with distress. “You tell me that my husband will fight to his death and I am supposed to what? Dance?”

“Just sit down.” She points at the seat across from her, her finger crooked and weak.

You drop the broom where you stand and plop yourself down on the indicated seat while ignoring the creak of the weathered wood. The old woman would resist new furnishings though you’d managed to sneak in a new bed and kitchenware.

“You killed your cat.” You tell her, as if she doesn’t know.

“Yes.” She agrees and lifts the small cup to her lips to take a drink.

“Why?”

“I had to see.” She explains. “Something was…was there.”

“When I found you outside Steve’s office?” You check, though you know her answer.

“Yes.” With a sigh she captures your gaze and does not release it. “I have sensed a darkness growing in the world. Something elusive. Hidden. It has kept its face secret, behind that of puppets. It uses others to do its bidding and until today I had no idea what that bidding was.

“He is gathering six relics. Stones. Rich in magic properties. Richer than any other relics I have ever come across. Each of them with powers more terrifying than the last.”

“What kind of powers?” You ask her, voice feeble and wispy.

“Powers to control time. Power to manipulate the mind and the very fabric of space and reality.” She warns. “Powers to rule the world…or wipe it from existence.”

Your heart grows cold, slipping into the pit of your stomach as you picture Steve in his armor standing before such massive power. What could your warrior husband do in the face of such might?

“Who is he?” You ask her, eager to put a face to the threat.

“I don’t know.” She says, looking down at the necklace that always rests around your neck. The locket that is Steve’s insignia, with his picture along with your parents. “I cannot see his face. I can only feel him. He is stronger than the king. Stronger than many of those who fight here. Together they may defeat him, but I did not see them together. I saw only your husband, the bodies of those you love surrounded him, and he fell too.”

You get up, unwilling to let her convince you despite you having already accepted her words. “I cannot listen to this.”

“You must, girl. You must take heed of what I tell you and prepare yourself for what is to come. Take your daughter and go as far away from here as possible but even that may not save you.” She adds as an afterthought. “I feel this evil plans for more than death. He has such a will.”

Turning to her you consider her thoughtful expression and the way she seems lost to her vision. She believes it with every fiber of her being and your own heart is swayed into panic as you throw yourself onto your knees at her feet.

Gripping the hand she has resting on her lap, you raise it to your breast and hold it there to where your heart is pounding.

“There must be something you can do. Something that will save him.” You reason, pleading for her to see reason as if she held the very fate of Steve within her old hands. “Won’t you try?”

“I cannot.” She shakes her head. “Such magics are forbidden. I am no dark witch.”

Her insistence is fractured, her own eyes betray her as she eyes you up and then turns away.

Her fondness is clear. You know that she loves you despite the way she speaks to you at times. She has fought hard for your happiness. If you would beg for her life, you think she might give it up.

“Is there no way? Nothing? Surely there is a chance to change things without resorting to dark magics? Please, Grandmother…” Before you know what’s happening, you’re crying.

Tears flow freely across your cheeks but your voice is strong in the only way that it can be when you’re pleading for your husband’s life.

“I cannot live in a world where my husband is not alive. Please…help me. Help me save him. There must be a way. There must be…please. We just had our daughter…” You lay your head in her lap, overcome with fear at this future she’s seen. “Please.”

Her silence is heavy. You can feel her thinking, can feel her mind searching for a way to give you what you want.

You have always loved this old woman but until today, you had not considered how much she might truly love you as one would a true granddaughter.

“Give me time.” She sighs.

“You’ll try?!” You gasp, your heart soaring.

With an elated sob you drop your head onto her lap and with gentle, feeble hands, she strokes the back of your head.

“I will think on it. I will try. I cannot make any promises.” She warns you, reaching under your chin to draw your gaze up. “What you ask for will not be easy. Is he worth it?”

You blink, confused by her question because in your mind there is absolutely no doubt.

“He’s worth more. He’s worth everything.” You nod. “I love him.”

Grandmother’s gaze withers and she releases you, nudging you away.

“Go. Be with your husband and child. Let me ponder.” She orders and slowly you rise.

You’re so stunned you have to keep a hand on the table as you rise to keep your knees buckling.

“When will you know?” You ask her, sniffling from the tears you shed.

“Go.” She orders again, staring at the hem of your dress. “And change your dress. You’re covered in blood.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Standing still, you hold tight to the lower left post of your bed as your corset is laced again.

The copper tub by the roaring fire in your bedroom sits lukewarm, full pink and wine-colored peony blooms floating within its oiled surface.

“Why was there blood on your dress?” Natasha wonders, tugging tight on your laces making you gasp.

“It’s not important.” You tell her, then think better of keeping her completely in the dark. “There was a dead cat on the way to Grandmother’s and I didn’t realize it until I came upon it.”

Fuck, was that believable? Does she trust you enough to accept your words without doubt?

“You’re keeping something from me.” She counters, frowning as she ties the corset closed.

Apparently not.

“I’m not.” You argue, but after her silence pierces your soul, you sigh. “I’m worried.”

“About Hydra?” She asks, supplying you with an appropriate alternative to the truth.

“Of course.” You grasp onto this straw and lean your stress onto this very real threat. “The last time I was within their vicinity someone tried to kill me and Maggie.”

“That won’t happen again.” Natasha assures you, moving towards you with a long ivory gown. The slightly yellowish tinge to the flowing fabric is pretty, though you note this in the back of your head. You’re too preoccupied with the threats looming overhead to notice how pretty the dress is. “I should have stayed with you.”

“It wasn’t your fault Nat. Pierce knew what he was doing. He’d been to father’s many times and he knew that I’d be in that part of the castle. He knew that you’d all be focused elsewhere. He was going to find a way to me one way or another.” You reason, but you know that if Peter or Nat had been there with you, there would have been a better chance of getting away with greater speed.

“I will never leave your side again.” Nat declares passionately but you huff a laugh and turn to look at her as she gathers up the skirt of your dress, hooking her arms through it to make ready for you to wear.

“Nat,” You smile. “I love you, and maybe you’re right and things would have been better if you or someone else had been by my side that night. But you cannot be beside me always. You’re a wife now. And even if you cannot be a mother naturally, there are many other ways to have children.”

Nat drops her arms, watching you with a concerned and furrowed brow. She’s clearly focused on you and not herself. You want to remedy that quickly. You love her, how can you allow her to only ever let you be her concern?

“You two must have discussed it?” You prompt, knowing that Bucky would not give up on giving Nat what she most desperately desires. “I know you want to be a mother. You love children.”

She seems to realize that you are not about to let this drop, so she sighs, relaxing a bit.

“I have thought about it.” She nods. “And yes, I do love children but I’m not sure if it’s right for me with the life that Bucky and I lead.”

Your heart aches suddenly, a renewal of Grandmother’s words reminding you that your daughter could lose her father. She so damn right about that.

“I don’t blame you.” You nod, sitting yourself on the end of the bed. “This life that all of you have chosen is one most unwelcome to the traditional family. But it is possible. Father and Mother have Morgana, Lord and Lady Lang have their daughter. Steve and I now have Margaret.

“It may not be ideal, certainly. But possible.” You offer in encouragement.

You don’t want her to give up. You want her to be happy.

Nat looks down at your stocking covered feet and nods.

“You don’t have to. Of course, it is entirely your choice and Bucky’s. I’m not trying to say that you should have children. But if you should you choose to have them, it is possible to live both lives.” You really hope that you’re not putting any pressure on her to raise a child when she might not want to.

Natasha’s inability to have children naturally should not be a hindrance on her desire to be a mother if she should decide to try. There are thousands of children in orphanages across the Kingdoms that would benefit greatly from a loving home that you know Bucky and Nat would provide effortlessly.

At the end of the day however, you know it is their choice.

“I appreciate your support.” Nat admits, gathering your skirts again and then holding them open for you to put your head through. “Truly. It means so much to me that you think I could do a good job. As a mother.”

You stand and stick your head through the dress and begin to pull your arms through the large puffed sleeves as Natasha straightens your skirt.

The neckline is ruffled, heart shaped, and low. The sleeves are also ruffled, small cinches that wrap around your arm mid-bicep leaving your shoulders and neckline exposed. Nat turns you and quickly laces up the back of the dress. She pulls it tight so that there is no chance of it slipping down.

“Isn’t this a little-?”

“You look beautiful.” Natasha smiles, fixing a long pink sash around your waist that she ties into a long loose bow above the curve of your bum. “Shall I braid your hair again?”

Natasha’s hands work fast, her fingers nimble and familiar with your hair’s texture and flow. The skirt is so long and flowing that you wonder if something special has been planned for you to attend as you feel that despite the somewhat casual look of the dress, it also doubles as pretty in that formal sense.

Your fingers find the embroidered pink and white peonies on the bodice that decorate your breast.

“Am I seeing someone special today?” You ask.

“No.” Natasha smiles. “Just us. Lunch is being served in the garden for you, Margaret, and Steve. Bucky and I shall be nearby. Peter will be close too. No one special.”

You huff a laugh as she lists all of the most precious people in your life. “So, only those special to me then?”

Nat chuckles and finishing tying off your hair.

“Lunch is for you, Steve, and Maggie. Steve expressed a wish to spend some quiet time alone with the two of you. He knows he’s been busy the past few weeks racing about chasing leads on this new Hydra weapon. He wants to make it up to you and I know he’d appreciate you in this dress.”

Her explanation makes sense but you’re successfully distracted from the dress by the mention of Hydra.

“How was the search?” You suddenly wonder, remembering Steve’s orders for her and Bucky.

“We’ve spread the word and will go out again tonight to search. I’ll tell you if anyone is found.”

“I’d like to know what’s happening with this.” You turn to her, adjusting within her grip as she reaches down to fuss with your dress. “I need to know, Nat. I can’t be kept in the dark again.”

Natasha drops her hands, placing them on her hips as she considers the look in your eyes.

“You’re not saying something.” She realizes. “What’s troubling you?”

“Nothing.” You say quickly, a shrug thrown her way just to brush off the concern. “I just don’t want any surprises. Not like before. This threat seems insignificant but what if there’s more to this mysterious weapon? I want to know what you’re all walking into.”

“Steve has promised to keep you appraised.” Nat promises you. “I will hold him to his word.”

Slowly, as the truth of her words shines through her eyes, a small smile stretches your lips.

“Thanks, Nat.”

~~~~~~~~~~

As you approach your renovated pavilion, peony blossoms blooming all around in varying shades of pink, you adjust Maggie in your arms.

You’re careful with your own dress. Double-checking the top of your bodice to make sure for the tenth time that you are covered after feeding your daughter. Nat made sure it was tight again but you’re fretting is ceaseless as a mother now.

The corset you’re wearing made especially for you since you are nursing, makes it easy for you to feed her without much fuss. Steve seems to favor it too though you’ve told him to be gentle and he’s avoided enjoying your breasts while you’re focused on raising your little one.

Aside from a loving caress and gentle butterfly kisses when the two of you make love, he’s avoided touching them.

Reaching the stairs, you fix your daughter’s dress—changed to match yours with endless ruffles but the same peony embroidery pattern on her little chest and pink sash around her little waist.

Steve rises quickly, rushing towards you with his arms extended.

Maggie coos excitedly, her little high-pitched squeaks and goos nearly make you swoon as she kicks her little legs excitedly. She’s not exactly screaming yet, but her noises are long and eager.

“There’s my princess.” Steve says proudly, his eyes flooding with love as he takes her into his large arms and kisses her chubby cheek.

He turns her to sit with her little back pressed against his chest and smiles at you while your own eyes are glued to your daughter.

“And my beautiful Queen.” He gushes, pulling your attention away from Maggie as he leans down slowly until he meets your lips with a long slow peck. “How are you?”

His voice is soft and deep. “I’m very well.”

It’s almost a lie.

In this moment, here with Steve and Maggie, you are most definitely well. You’re happy and you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Your heart still weighs a ton with Grandmother’s news.

For a terrible moment as Steve walks away from you to sit down with Maggie on his lap, you remember her words and your knees almost buckle.

With him focused on the little one, you manage to sit yourself down before he can notice.

Rapid footsteps climb the stairs behind you. You turn to find Peter moving in to stand beside you both. He smiles excitedly as he watches Maggie. He, like everyone else in the castle, is head over heels for her.

No one draws a smile quicker than Maggie, even from the gentry that had so readily spread rumors about you.

This makes you happy. Your daughter accepted.

“Cook will be out with your meals shortly, your Majesties.” He informs you both.

“Won’t you join us?” You ask him, but Peter meets Steve’s eyes for a moment then reaches up to scratch behind his head, his cheeks flushing pink.

Clearly Steve had made it clear that he wanted to spend time with you and Maggie alone to more than just Nat. However, there’s something else in that rosy tint in Peter’s cheeks.

“I…I’m actually meeting Morgana in the libraries to help her with her studies. I will cancel with her if you wish me to stay?” He offers, though you see the disappointment in his eyes.

“No.” You hurry to assure him. “No, we’re fine. I just wanted to be sure you ate.”

“Thank you, your Majesty. I believe Cook is sending sandwiches to the library for us.” Peter bows and with an excitement in his step you watch him until he’s out of sight.

“They make a good match.” You smile, turning to take a sip of water from the silver goblet before you.

“Who?” Steve asks, confused. He bounces his leg to keep Maggie occupied while allowing her to hold his finger in her tight tiny fist. She drags it to her mouth and bites it with her gums, yet Steve doesn’t seem to notice.

“Peter and Morgana.”

“Peter and your sister?” Steve asks in shock. “But…she’s so young.”

“She’s fifteen, going on sixteen.” You remind him. “If they are engaged this year that will still leave them with two years of courtship before they’re married. That is the custom in Malibia.

She’ll be eighteen by then and Peter will be twenty-four. Some people would say those are two ages perfect for marrying.”

Despite the pleasant picture you paint, Steve’s frown only grows.

“What?” You chuckle, reaching into your skirts to find the pocket where you’d placed a few small towels for Maggie’s constant drooling.

You offer Steve the towel but he’s still frowning? No…he’s pouting! You get up and move around to wipe her chin before placing the towel in Steve’s hand.

“Why are you pouting?”

“I’m not pouting.” Steve grumbles.

It makes you laugh again. “Steve…”

“Maggie will not be getting engaged until she’s at least twenty.” He suddenly declares. “I’ll lock her up in the West tower until she’s that age and only then will I allow her to entertain the idea of a suitor.”

“Are you worried that you’ll only have her for sixteen years?” You chuckle, watching the worry in his eyes as he cradles Maggie closer, stroking her rounded cheeks with gentle thumbs.

“She’s mine right now.” Steve laments, looking down at her as she continues to chew on his finger. “I don’t want to part with her. I’ve waited so long for her for some boy to come take her from me.”

“Oh, my darling.” You chuckle but this time with full sympathy for his heartbreak. “We will have lots of time with her. And even after she marries, she will always be our daughter.”

Steve’s eyes are glued to her little face and he completely doesn’t notice Cook come up to serve your meal. A few roast chickens with potatoes and carrots.

You eat in silence but quickly. Enjoying the sight of him growing more and more enamored with your daughter. Steve doesn’t seem to notice the time slip by as he distracts her with the towel you’d handed him.

She chatters about nothing in her baby speak, drawing smiles and chuckles from your husband.

Finally, you eat your last carrot and slide your chair back.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him, rising to your feet knowing you have no reason to be sorry. He’s so in love with her. Luckily, you’ve still managed to eat fast enough that the food is still warm for him. “I should hire a maid to watch her when we eat.”

It’s true that you’ll eventually need to hire someone to take care of her when you must deal with kingdom affairs too. You’re so reluctant to let someone else care for her. Just as Steve claims her passionately, you feel just as he does. She’s yours.

“Not yet.” Steve counters, letting you take her from him. He adjusts in his chair, wipes his hand then proceeds to eat, stealing glances at both of you as you move towards the benches that line the inner edge of the pavilion.

Everything is so perfect. So lovely.

You’re almost content in this moment, with your little girl in your arms and Steve sharing a meal with you. You’re very nearly happy until you look at him and like a raging storm Grandmother’s words destroy your fragile peace once more.

Steve is going to die.

He turns to you and smiles. He smiles at Maggie. He confesses his love for you both with it pouring from his eyes and while your heart aches, you vow to do anything to stop this new threat from taking him away.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Come to bed.” Steve pleads.

You glance at him through your looking glass, a hazy image because of the distance from your small table to the bed. The silver is in need of polishing or perhaps replacing. You don’t dare speak this thought aloud though.

Knowing Steve, he’d simply buy you a wall full of mirrors and you can’t have that.

Even blurry he’s a vision, an absolute fucking sight to behold with your daughter at the center of your bed his fingers tickling her tummy as she kicks her little legs excitedly. Her little hands absentmindedly stroking his arm.

He’s on his side, shirtless. His lower body hidden beneath the sheets of your bed as he lays naked underneath.

Despite that delectable fact, your eyes are glued to his gentle smile as he takes his hand and gently strokes the length of Maggie’s little nose. He’s noticed how that lulls her to sleep and does it to her every night to send her off when he’s not busy in meetings.

You finish tending to your hair, braiding it back once again to keep out of the way for your little one. When you turn in your seat to look at them, you find Maggie’s movements slowed. Her eyes are closing, little rosebud lips left open slightly.

She’s already fed and content. Your happy baby, so protected and cherished.

Despite his attentions to your daughter that you’ve spent the last ten minutes watching, when you look at him you find Steve’s eyes on you.

“Come to bed.” He urges you, a small twinkle of desire hidden in the tranquility of these moments he spends with Maggie but stares at you.

“Are you trying for a second?” You ask him, teasing as you rise and move to the bed. You know that look well by now.

Steve’s expression suddenly shift, concern etched across his face.

“Am I rushing you?” He asks, reaching for you as you kneel on the bed and gather your nightdress up so as not to trip on it. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’s thinking of this morning, already having had you in his den.

Since you’d given birth, he’s been so careful with you. Even when you’d assured him you were ready to be intimate with him again, he’d hesitated. Worried about hurting you or rushing your body into doing things you should not be doing.

Your smile only grows, a small chuckle escaping your lips as you settle in on Maggie’s right. She doesn’t even stir. Steve’s hand remains around your forearm, fingers gently caressing your skin.

“Why do you laugh?” He asks, his mouth perking at the corners despite his worry.

“You are not like any man I’ve ever met or heard of.” You confess. “Some of the women in Bright Rise, when they still spoke with me, would tell me about their husbands. They were like you were at the beginning of our marriage. Worse, as they took without care for their wives’ wishes. Some of them were always pregnant now that I think about it. Always trailed by a line of toddlers and children.

“The men didn’t care about their wives’ bodies or how their need to satiate their hungers affected the other.” You shake your head. “Some of the women even confessed to me that they took on lovers to find the enjoyment in fucking again.”

“Something you would have been forced to do had I continued in my foolish ways.” Steve suggests, unphased by your still somewhat rural tongue.

“Maybe…in the future. It would have taken me years of neglect to get to that point.” You nod, “Even with Thor, his touch was…unwelcome. He didn’t force me, but I did not feel right accepting his affections. I’m married. Even unhappy that wasn’t something I took lightly.”

Steve’s hand moves up to the top of your arm then slowly he drags it down to your wrist.

“Were you always this considerate? I mean, before me?” You wonder, looking deep into his storm blue eyes. “Say with Margaret? Or, perhaps the other women you were with before we married?”

Steve turns, laying himself on his back.

He releases your arm and gently strokes the length of his chest, fingers dancing across the tuft of blonde hair that rails all the way down below where the blanket ends at his waist. His other hand he shoves underneath his head as he thinks.

You wait patiently for him to be ready to speak. You’ve never asked him about his habits with other women in bed.

He steals several quick looks your way which tells you he’s nervous about answering you. Wary, in case it should prompt a fight. You can see the moment he decides to give in. His lips part a little, they stutter, then he speaks.

“Margaret was strong.” He states plainly, as if that explains it all.

You wait.

“Not that you aren’t!” He rushes to say, sitting up as gently as he can to keep from waking your daughter.

Maggie still stirs and whimpers. You place your hand on her chest and soothe her until she stills again.

“Can you put her in her bed?” You begin to sit up too, ready to do it yourself but Steve is faster, rushing so that you won’t have to.

“Of course! I’ll get her.” He gently scoops her up into his arms then quickly moves around to your side of the bed as you follow them with your eyes, turning your body as they go.

Gently he places her in her crib and tucks her in, shushing and soothing her as she complains then goes silent once more.

She isn’t too close, but you can still see her from your spot on the bed. Steve double checks by looking at you to see if you can still see her.

When he’s satisfied that you can, he moves back to you, crawling over you and stopping to give the tip of your nose a kiss as he goes before plopping himself down on his side once again. This time he reaches for you, grabby hands tracing the shape of your curves as he pulls you a little closer.

“What I meant, is that Margaret was willful. She knew what she wanted, and she made certain that everyone else knew so too.” He clears his throat, suddenly nervous again. “In bed, she was just as certain of herself.

“Even though I made the first move, she was the one who took charge in our physical relationship. I knew that if something were to go wrong or if she was tired or too ill to be with me intimately, she would tell me.”

You listen without judgement and try to keep your face clear of all emotions other than the love you have for him. Even through this conversation, your heart pounds with dread as it repeats Grandmother’s words over and over, reminding you that every moment with Steve is precious.

“I never had to worry about Margaret’s body because she never had to compromise it for me. I did worry for her, but not in the same way.” Steve says, probably thinking about the risks that Margaret would have taken as part of the Avengers.

“And the other women?” You wonder.

“There weren’t many.” Steve assures you, looking down at your chest in embarrassment. “Only two.”

“You were grieving Margaret.” You nod, understanding. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t a man.”

Steve is silent for a moment, resting his head in his hand as he uses his elbow to prop himself up. With his other hand he traces nervous circles in the blanket between you.

“They were visiting ladies. Ladies who, like Margaret, knew what they wanted.” Steve sighs the lunges softly towards you, pushing you onto your back so suddenly it makes you gasp and then laugh.

As he settles his body halfway over yours, he smiles down at you.

His hands caress the sides of your face before he trails one hand along your sides, grabbing you with intent. You can feel the desire in his touch.

“Court ladies are all playing a game. It’s a language they speak that you don’t know.” Steve sighs heavily. “A set of rules that I’m glad you do not understand. You are nothing like them and I love you for it.”

“They had husbands?” You realize.

“Yes.” Steve nods. “Men who are too distracted by their own infidelities or too busy grasping at power to pay their wives any mind. With both of them it was only one night. It came and went so quickly I can barely remember them. I don’t even think I could tell you their names.”

His face grows solemn, sad as if remembering a painful memory that has since lost its sting but not the emotion of sorrow. “I didn’t enjoy myself. I was driven by lust, but I didn’t even…I made sure they were satisfied and left it at that.”

“Mm. You felt guilty.” You nod, understanding as you watch his full lips. The lower is so much bigger than the upper. You reach up and trace it, loving the soft plumpness of it.

“Does it not make you jealous?” He wonders, relaxing more of his weight onto you. “Does it not upset you?”

You meet his eyes again, a smile stretched across your face. You can see that he wants to know you’re jealous. He wants to know that you want him as much as he wants you.

So much progress…is this truly the man you married?

“Only as much as it would upset any wife to hear her beloved husband talk about his past adventures in fucking other women.”

Steve groans and buries his face into the side of your neck, wrapping his arms around you as you also wrap yours around his shoulders. You chuckle, caressing the back of his head.

“So, the concern is not normal?” You realize, feeling better but also worried that you’re not seeing the real Steve. That maybe he’s acting this way with you while acting a completely different way with everyone else.

Is this not who he is?

“No, the concern is normal.” Steve says, muffled against your skin, making you feel almost instantly better.

He pulls back to look down at you again.

“What I’m saying is that every woman that I have been with until you has never given me cause to be concerned. I didn’t hurt them the way I hurt you.” He frowns. “I didn’t take what they weren’t willing to give.”

You look away this time, the solemnity coming from you now. The shift of conversation making your heart ache. When you speak, your voice is quiet, subdued with the reminder of your wedding night.

“I wasn’t unwilling.” You correct him because you hadn’t been. Not that first night or any night after.

Your line was not one clearly drawn, certainly. You’d slept with him out of duty but that hadn’t meant you didn’t want to. He’s the most beautiful man you’d ever seen in your life. Of course, you’d wanted him.

You hadn’t told him no. You’d only told him to slow down. You know that for him, for Nat, for everyone who found out—that slow down had been enough. It should have been enough to stop him.

“You know what I mean.” Steve says, placing both his hands on the sides of your face to tilt your head back until you look at him. “I wounded you. I took something that was not mine to take.”

“But it was yours to take.” You correct him again, and he growls in his throat at you before shaking his head, the pain leaving his eyes to be replaced by admiration.

“I can still feel you, trembling and sobbing in my arms. I was disgusted with myself. I couldn’t believe that I could do that to anyone. And you were so…so kind and gentle. So eager to please and I took advantage of that.” Steve confesses. All of his thoughts spilling out of him like water. “I had turned this beautiful, sweet princess into a sobbing, fearful, and wounded creature. I was so consumed by my grief over Margaret and my anger at having to marry again when I wasn’t ready to do so that I wanted it over. In that moment, I didn’t care about the sweet woman beneath me.

“And even after I hurt you, when I came to see you, despite your fear your only concern was for the tears I shed.”

It takes a moment to find your voice, but you do. You swallow hard.

“I’d never seen a man cry.” You confess. “Much less a king.”

“I meant every tear.” Steve insists. “If I could take that night back, I would. If I could redo every night since, I would. I am concerned for you above anyone else, because in you I saw my darkest self and I never want to be that man for you again. I never want to hurt you.”

The two of you lapse into emotional but pleasant silence. Both hearts beating strongly against each other as his chest is pressed firmly against your own.

At last, you smile, a chuckle spilling from your lips as you reach up and tuck his hair behind his ear. It’s getting long again.

“Have you always made these long speeches? Or is that reserved for me as well?” You check, mostly just teasing.

Steve’s lips curl up, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I make sure to give every pretty woman I see a lengthy speech. Whether they’re enjoyable is a different matter.”

You bite your lip, glaring at him but only in jest. Quickly he dips down to kiss your lips, letting it linger for a moment before he pulls back only a bit so that when he speaks, his lips are fluttering against your own.

“My declarations of love, however, are entirely yours alone.” He whispers. “Tell me to stop and I will obey, my Queen.”

His right hand moves down, searching until it finds the hem of your nightdress which he begins to tug up until he finds the top of your leg. He traces the dip of flesh there, tickling your skin in search of your already yearning core.

As his fingers make contact, you gasp into his slightly open mouth and it draws his attention back up to your face. He licks your lips, just a gentle flick of the tip of his tongue before he kisses you, sinking it into your depths where you meet his eager kiss with your own.

You moan quietly, a whimper of yearning as his fingers spread your folds and begin to explore you. The noises his hand makes absolutely sinful.

Eager for his touch, you bring your knees up. You spread your legs for him, and he pulls out of the kiss to slide down along your body. He does down, down, down until he’s settled between your legs.

He grabs one and throws it over his left shoulder, then the other over his right. He kisses your thighs, trailing his tongue in small circles before every gentle pucker. The anticipation curls your toes as he moves closer and closer to your cunt.

“Steve…” You whisper, aware of the baby asleep in her crib and your need to keep quiet so that she can sleep.

He dives in, his tongue making one long swipe of your dripping core.

You gasp, curling up towards him as your body is sent into shivers.

He grabs hold of your thighs roughly, pulling you hard against his face. Opening his mouth, he suckles on your clit, the gentle sound of his sucking filling your limbs with fire.

As much as you enjoy his mouth where it is, there’s an impatience that wages war within you.

After months of waiting to enjoy sleeping with him, now that you do, it makes you eager to have him within you.

“Steve, please…” You beg, reaching down and tugging on his hair.

He likes that, growling a little at the lusty whisper that is your plea.

Pressing kisses along the length of your body while he shoves your nightdress up higher and higher, he finally helps you pull it off before taking your breasts within his mouth.

His lips are soft against them, gentle in their suckling as he knows how painful you can find it now.

When you whimper from the soreness, he steals a quick look at you to make sure you aren’t in too much pain before he simply kisses them around the nipple.

You run your hand over his hair, a promise that someday he’ll be able to enjoy your breasts again. He reads your reassurance but dismisses it as he rushes to meet your lips in a demanding kiss.

Without warning he pushes into you. He stretches you, filling you up so pleasantly that you throw your head back but swallow the moan you’d normally release.

Fuck…Your mind supplies, nails raking along the scarred flesh of his shoulders.

“Fuck…” Steve groans into your ear, stopping once he’s buried within you. Great minds think alike, you guess.

“Don’t stop.” You beg and wrap your left arm around his shoulders while the other reaches down as far as it can to grab as much of his bum as possible and pull him close.

He starts slowly, letting you both relish in the silky way his cock slides out of you then back in.

“Kiss me.” You tell him, needing his mouth to silence the moans you feel bound to make.

He obliges, roughly meeting your lips with a frenzied and lustful kiss as he loses himself within you.

He doesn’t pound into you the way he did at the cottage. He knows he shouldn’t, so he doesn’t. Even though you want it, you’re grateful for his forethought and instead focus on the way he seems to know which angles to adjust so that his cock not only pierces you but presses against the most sensitive spots inside of you.

He moves faster, reaching down to massage your clit as he kisses his way down your neck.

The moment is sudden, and it surprises you when your body goes tense for a moment as your climax washes over you.

You pull Steve down against you, gripping him hard as you hold him tight while your body is overcome.

Steve continues to push into you. Faster as he realizes that you’ve reached your limit. He grunts as he picks up speed, tracing the shape of your back down to your ass where he takes hold of it, fingers digging into the muscle.

He pulls up a little, searching for your lips with his own, tongue delving into your mouth as you give him what he wants. Both of you moan into each other, muffled and needy until Steve’s body stutters and his heat spills into you over and over.

He thrusts with each burst of ecstasy that overtakes him. His groans grow lazy. His body loose. Your own is already numb and you go still beneath him as he trails lazy kisses along the misty skin of your neck and shoulders.

He sighs, laying his head against your clavicle where he relaxes on top of you, your hands gently stroking his back.

You steal a glance at Maggie in her crib, but she’s sound asleep. It relaxes you to know she’s unbothered and without meaning to, you and Steve both fall asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

A loud thumping makes you twitch. It sounds distant but it startles you anyway.

In your arms, something large moves.

Your sleepy mind reminds you that it’s Steve and you sigh in your semi-sleep as your hands enjoy the feel of his hot body still resting on top of your own.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The thumping returns, this time louder and clearer.

A quiet whine to your right wakes you more quickly than the thumping and like you’ve been stunned with Thor’s lightning, you spring up from the bed, quickly sliding out from beneath Steve who also whines at your moving but peeks up at you as you rise.

“Whereyewgoin?” He asks, still mostly asleep.

“Go back to sleep.” You whisper to him from beside Maggie’s crib.

BOOM! BOOM-BOOM!

The thumping, which is actually a knocking on your door you realize, repeats.

Maggie whines again and you frown.

“Who’s there?” Steve asks towards the door, his voice more annoyed then upset.

“It’s Agatha, your Majesty.” One of the guards outside speaks.

“Don’t speak for me.” Grandmother’s voice grumbles.

“I’m sorry, your Majesty.” The guard says nervously, probably worried about the knocking, which means that was Grandmother and not the guard.

You look at Steve as Maggie begins to wake, her cries soft but rising as you continue to try and soothe her but now only halfheartedly.

Fear grips you, stealing you of your voice as you stare at your husband. Your little girl’s cries grow louder as she wakes but you’re frozen in place, terrified of what Grandmother could not wait until the morning to tell you.

“What, my flower?” Steve suddenly asks, sliding to the edge of the bed towards you.

“I…I should see what she wants.” You whisper, afraid to speak any louder despite your daughter already being awake.

“Go.” Steve urges you, grabbing your nightdress and moving towards you. He offers it to you as he reaches you. “I’ll put Maggie back to sleep.”

You take the nightdress with trembling hands. If Steve notices he doesn’t say so, but you don’t think he does as he’s already lifting Maggie from the crib, moving back towards the bed.

You dress in a hurry, then move to grab Steve’s robe as it’s closer and pull it over your body.

You’re tying it closed as the door opens upon your approach and find Grandmother pacing the hallway behind the two guards assigned to keep you and Maggie safe.

After what happened with Pierce, Steve is taking no chances.

“Grandmother?” You check, voice stronger but still just as terrified.

“We must speak.” She tells you, her voice strong and her eyes full of severity.

With a tentative nod you have her follow you into Steve’s den next door, shutting the door securely before you move into the room and offer her a seat in front of Steve’s desk.

“No.” She waves your offer off, pacing as you take a seat because your legs are weak again. “I have found a solution.”

“So quickly?” You gasp, hands balled into tight fists on your lap as you watch her pace.

“The sooner the better I would think in this situation. This is nothing like I have ever done before.” She admits. “It will take all of my power to do it.”

“It…will it hurt you?” You wonder, worried for her withered body.

“Probably not.” She shakes her head. “No way to know for sure. But it’s something I’m willing to die for.”

“What?” You gasp, suddenly terrified of losing her.

Finally, Grandmother stops her pacing and moves to stand before you.

“This threat is greater than I first thought.” She admits, slowly sitting herself down in the seat beside yours, turning it so that she can face you. “We cannot allow this power to grow. We can either stop it here, right now. Or we can let your husband stop it later. If we allow him to do it, it will take his life. There is no doubt in my mind of that. There will be others. He will not be the only to perish.

“Stopping this threat now is for everyone’s benefit and if I must pay with my life to save many others, I will do so willingly.” She declares.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” You shake your head, your emotions already raw.

“You’re not asking me, girl. I’m telling you that I must do it. I have already made my choice, now the only choice left to make is your own.” She fixes her gaze on you and you find you cannot look away.

“My own choice?”

“You asked me to save him. To ensure that he will live, a great sacrifice must be made. Separate from my own. I will provide the power, the strength for the incantation. Something else must be given for it to succeed.” Grandmother explains.

Your mind springs into action, thinking of the one thing you have of worth to give. Your life.

“So, I’ll…I’ll die?” You whisper, already in sorrow for leaving your husband and child.

“No.” Grandmother says. “No, I’m certain you will live.”

“Then what?”

“The price is impossible to know. It could be anything.” Grandmother gestures at you, looking you over from head to toe. ��It could be your sight. Your ability to hear. Your voice. Your ability to walk. Whatever it is, it will be a great price to pay. Only you can choose to pay it but unless you do, I cannot go forward with the spell.”

“C-can I choose? Can I decide what it is that I sacrifice?” You hope, but what would you choose? What do you possibly have that could be worth your husband’s life?

“No. The magics will choose what to take. It will be equal to what it is you ask for, but only the magics can choose what that value is.” Grandmother explains.

This is impossible. This is unbelievable. This is torture.

You have to pay a price without knowing what it will be?

You know that your answer is yes. You’ll pay it. Whatever the price, you will give it willingly if it will save Steve’s life.

“I will pay it.” You nod. “Of course, I will. Yes.”

Grandmother takes your hand and squeezes it, a knowing look in her eyes. “I knew you would.”

She rises and you follow. Your hands feel weak but with the decision now made, you now it’s right and feel settled that you know this will soon be resolved.

Before the old woman can make it to the door, you reach out and grab her wrist, stopping her before she can leave.

“Grandmother…” You begin, waiting for her to turn.

She doesn’t. “Don’t get sentimental.” She says, voice strong though you’re sure that you can hear a small sadness in her tone.

“I want to thank you…for taking care of me. For loving me. I know that you could not always be there when I was young but you’re here now. Thank you.” You whisper, scared to speak louder in case you begin to cry. “I-I just wanted you to know. In case I cannot say it later or if you-”

You can’t even speak the words. She won’t die. She can’t.

With one withered hand, she reaches down and places it over your own. She gives you a squeeze, her hands trembling but reassuring.

“I don’t know when the spell will take effect. Go. Sleep soundly. Hold them close.” Grandmother advises then pushes your hand off her arm and disappears into the sleeping castle.

The very short walk back to your bedroom feels as if it takes forever. The guard make no comment as they open your door for you and you wander in, eyes searching for the loves of your life.

You find Steve snuggled up close to Maggie, his head pressed against the side of her own, his hand on her tummy and his eyes closed.

Maggie is not sleeping. She’s staring up at the ceiling with her little legs kicking gently as she coos and babbles her baby speak. One of her little hands is closed tightly around Steve’s finger, holding tight. As you move towards them, you notice how her hand doesn’t even close around his finger completely. She’s so small still. So fragile.

What if you can’t hold her after paying the price? What if you can’t hear her babble? What if you can’t see her little face or the way her eyes light up and her toothless smile spreads across her face as she spots you?

Just as she does now, she lets out a louder “Goo…” as she spots you and her legs go into a frenzy as she flails her limbs frantically.

You don’t want to cry but you feel the rush of sorrow overwhelm you. Quickly, before Steve can see, you drop onto the bed still wearing his robe and pull Maggie towards you. You hug her and turn her towards you, burying your face against her tiny chest.

Her little hands grab at you, whatever part of your head they can, and she pulls your ears, tugs your hair, scratches against your cheek but you don’t care. You inhale her scent, memorizing it just in case you lose the ability to smell.

After you’re sure you could never forget it, you tickle her sides until she’s giggling lightly, small bubbles and whines of amusement. It’s not a full laugh. She hasn’t done that for you yet. What if you never get to hear it?

You memorize this one anyway, put it away and lock it up within your heart where you know you will always be able to recall the pure sound of her innocence.

It takes every ounce of will power within you to stifle your desire to sob. Still, you manage it and when you’re certain you can face him, you pull back a bit to look at your daughter’s beautiful face.

She’s all Steve. You hardly recognize anything in her looks of you. She’s gorgeous. Pretty blonde hair, just like Steve’s only slightly darker in shade.

Her eyes are a piercing blue. Lighter than Steve’s but just as observant. She watches you, reaches out for your face where she places a small hand on your nose then slides it down to your lips which she casually grabs and releases before her eyes find her hand and she brings it to her mouth to taste.

You watch her for so long, you’re sure that it must nearly be morning, but the sky continues to be dark outside the windows of your room.

You sing to your little one. A quit lullaby that you hope she’ll remember if you can never speak to her again. You tell her you love her and sing some more.

She drifts off eventually, her little mouth open as she sleeps.

Finally, you turn your eyes on Steve, yearning to see him almost to an unnatural amount. You have never doubted it but in this moment as your eyes find him staring right back at you, you realize how much you truly love him. How much he’s changed your life.

Your world has grown since you met him. He’s changed you forever.

Will the sacrifice be your life? Will you be leaving them behind? Will you be wounding him again, just as Margaret had?

Even though Grandmother said it wouldn’t be, you can’t help but wonder and worry that you might very well be spending the last moments you’ll ever have with him and Maggie now.

What if you close your eyes and they should never open again?

At least she would have him. Maggie wouldn’t be alone. She would have her father. And he would have her.

If by some chance her father should also leave her behind, she’d have Nat and Bucky. She’d have Sam and Peter. She’d have the entire team to care for her. Father and Mother would probably try and take her to Malibia.

She would never need to worry about her meals or whether she could survive frigid winter temperatures. She would be protected and loved even if you aren’t around to make sure she is.

Steve blinks slowly. He’s sleepy but he’s trying to stay awake because you’re awake.

You’re not sure if he can tell that something is wrong, but you push yourself up towards him. You’re careful as you hover over Maggie, reaching to hook your hand behind his neck as he also pushes himself up and towards you.

You kiss him, slow and smooth until your heart begins to ache and your hand squeezes around his neck.

You kiss him with a bit more fervor and though he returns it, when you pull away, his brow is narrowed in confusion. Subtle concern.

“I love you.” You whisper to him, reaching down to trace the shape of his bottom lip with your thumb. You kiss him again. “I love you, forever.”

It’s a promise you have every intention of honoring. Will he love you even if you can’t talk? Will he love you if you can’t hear? Will he still love you if you are not the woman you are now?

You know that you can overcome anything. You can embrace a new way of living so long as it means that Steve and Maggie are safe. But will he see it that way? Will he love you for the woman you will become?

“You’re my entire world, Y/N.” He whispers back almost as if he can hear your thoughts and he wants to put you at ease.

His lips curl up at the corns softly as he blinks even slower than before as sleep begins to pull him under. “You and Maggie are my life.”

Your lip trembles as his eyes shut and do not open again, his head falling to his pillow.

“I love you…so…” He trails off, his words lost to dreams.

You stare at him and then Maggie. All night you stare at them, memorizing the way they breathe and smell. If you’re going to be changed forever, you’re going to remember this moment and cherish it until the day you die.

You will never forget it.

~~~~~~~~~~

1 Year & 3 Months Later

The sun is beaming. It’s strong. July is hot, even more so than normal. You groan as you look up to the sky and shield your eyes from the blinding light.

For a moment your mind goes hazy, full of fog. Something changes as it always does. Something shifts.

Something tugs at the corners of your mind. Something blurry and demanding. You get this way every single time you come here.

Every time you fill the wooden bucket, there’s a flash of something familiar.

You focus on the tug, allowing it to unearth the secret that eludes you.

There’s a quick flash that you don’t quite see. A golden hue. A storm blue circle.

Then your bucket overflows and the water splashes your feet, drenching your newly mended shoes.

They’re too small for your feet but it’s all you have.

“Damn.” You sigh, grunting as you lift the bucket and place it on the damp bank of the river.

Across the barren field, your little hut just at the opposite edge nestled into a grove of forest trees, Bright Rise begins to wake.

Another day, another scramble to find a way to keep your belly full.

“Time to check the traps.” You sigh, groaning as you lift the bucket and begin the trek back to your little hovel in the only village you’ve ever known.

The place you were born, but most definitely not home.

Your heart tells you that somewhere out there…somewhere else, your true home waits.

(THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER! One more to go!)

#steve x reader #king!steve x reader #captain america x reader #medieval au #royalty au #medieval fantasy au #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #avengers x reader #pseudo princess #king!steve x you #steve rogers x you #steve x you #captain america x you #pseudo princess pt35

[dearest-bucky]

Burning heart (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes seems to hate Y/n with a burning passion. Is everything as it seems though?

Words: 3.8K

Warnings: angstyyyyy but with a happy ending, Bucky is mean and I wanna punch him even though I love him (thank God for having everything saved in my laptop xp)

Originally posted: February 24, 2020

The compound is almost empty today, much to anyone’s surprise. With most of the team out on a long mission, the only people left to wander the living areas are Bucky and y/n. The only two people from the team who don’t get along. At all.

She knew that Bucky was somewhere training or simply sulking around the place, so she was trying to be extra careful with her moving, reducing the times she went to the kitchen to get food, going as far as isolating herself in her room for hours.

It wasn’t her fault that Bucky didn’t like her and they didn’t get along. She liked the ex-Winter Soldier, maybe a little too much, more than she should, considering how he treats her and such. But she can’t help feeling the way she does.

From the safety of her room she asked in a timid voice, “Friday, where is Sergeant Barnes?”

“He’s currently in the gym miss.” Came the immediate response.

Y/n sighed in relief and after offering a hushed thanks to the A.I she hurried to make her way to the kitchen. She was craving some chocolate chip cookies and she wanted to make her mother’s recipe for it, besides it would be a welcome home present for the other team members, they were supposed to come back from their mission in the afternoon.

Not wasting any time, she quickly got to work as soon as she set foot in the kitchen, trying her best to be as quiet as possible. It was ridiculous really, just like Bucky or everyone else, she lives in the compound, it’s her right to use each and every area of it, as long as she is not violating anyone’s privacy.

But Bucky, he was a total different thing. He couldn’t stay in the same room as her for more than 5 minutes even if their lives depended on it. He always criticized her, always had an insult to throw her way. It was as if he hated the woman, and y/n had no idea what had she done to deserve such treatment from him.

She was finished with the first batch of cookies and putting them to bake in the oven when she noticed Bucky enter the kitchen. He didn’t even spare her a glance, just headed to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and drinking with large sips. He looked tired, probably wore himself out with the punching bag, skin sweaty and hair dump, sticking on his forehead.

Y/n couldn’t help but stare at him. He was very handsome, with his brooding and almost dangerous features, but his eyes, they were always blue and soft and y/n couldn’t help but lose herself in them.

Bucky noticed her staring and scoffed in annoyance.

“What are you looking at?” He asked her, a little too bitterly for y/n’s taste.

She cleared her throat, embarrassed that he caught her staring, a red shade of blush dusting her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I was just lost in thoughts, didn’t mean to stare or make you feel uncomfortable.”

Her words were quiet, but she knew Bucky could hear her anyway.

“As if.” He replied almost taunting and left the kitchen, not saying another word. As if she could make him feel uncomfortable.

Bucky hated the idea of being alone with y/n. He hated the fact that she was so nice to him, always going out of her way to see to his every need, always offering her help with anything he was supposed to figure out by himself. He hated how she cooked for the whole team and always saved him a plate, never forgetting to call him down when the food was ready or when they were all hanging out, watching movies or playing silly games.

Y/n used to be a part of the Avengers, a very important asset to the team, with her powers and skills, she was amazing and fierce and a total badass. But everything changed two years ago, only a few months before Bucky came back from Wakanda.

Y/n had been captured by Hydra and tortured for three long months, she never said in detail what they did to her there, but whatever it was ruined her for good. She suffered a lot even after Steve and Natasha found her and brought her back home. She was mentally incapable of going on another mission or anything like that, that’s why Tony and Steve decided she would not participate in another mission for as long as it was needed for her to fully recover.

Bucky was sitting on the couch of the common room, reading a book, when he heard Friday’s mechanical yet very vivid voice inform him about the arrival of the team from their mission. He closed the book and got up from the place, ready to meet Steve and the others.

They came one after the other through the door with animated chatter, looking surprisingly well considering they had been on this mission for more than two weeks.

Steve was the first one to go to Bucky and hug him, then the rest of the team greeted him too. After the questions about the mission and if they were all fine, Steve was the first to ask about y/n’s whereabouts.

“Have you seen y/n today?” He asked Bucky, but the latter didn’t have time to answer because at that moment the woman entered the common room with two large plates full of chocolate chip cookies.

“Hey guys” she greeted them all with a wide smile and Sam was the first one to go to her, take the plates from her hands and pecked her cheek lightly.

Steve went up to her next, enveloping her in a warm hug which she happily returned. “How are you?” He asked in a hushed voice, only for her to hear.

“I’m okay. How are you? The mission went okay?”

He nodded and kissed her head.

Bucky was watching them from his seat, almost fuming at how lovingly his best friend and y/n were acting.

Everyone knew that after rescuing her from Hydra’s hands, Steve became her rock, the person she would go to every time she needed someone to talk to, or someone to hold her. His caring, nurturing nature had easily made her trust in him, open up to him with her mind and her heart, helping her become better and helping her heal.

Everyone also knew that there was nothing more than platonic brotherly love between them both, but Bucky couldn’t help the bitter taste of jealousy he’d get in his mouth and stomach every time he saw her with Steve.

He kept telling himself that he was jealous that she was keeping his best friend from him, what with Steve spending most of his free time with her, but he knew that wasn’t really true. He just couldn’t admit it to anyone, even himself that yet.

They all sat together around the couches and chairs, talking and eating y/n’s delicious cookies, when y/n directed her gaze to Bucky and silently nudged one of the plates in his direction, asking him to have one.

He just looked at her for a brief moment, as if not believing her gesture, and then got up from his seat.

“I don’t want your stupid cookies.” Was all he said before he left the room entirely, leaving everyone on the team surprised by his words, and y/n hurt in her very core.

She didn’t know what she had done to him, but she knew that she didn’t deserve his attitude. She tried to swallow the lump that formed in her throat and averted her eyes to her lap. Steve that was sitting next to her, with his arm around her shoulders, furrowed his brows in disappointment at his best friend.

“Don’t mind him. You know how Bucky is.” He said trying to justify the man’s actions, but he knew the first thing he had to do later was go to Bucky and give him a piece of his mind. Y/n just shrugged and gave him a small smile to let her know she wasn’t hurt, but Steve knew that wasn’t true.

He knew how much Bucky would hurt y/n with his attitude towards her, he had witnessed Bucky being mean for no reason to y/n several times, but he couldn’t understand why his pal had to do so.

The atmosphere in the room shifted awkwardly after Bucky’s disappearance, but only for a few moments, because Sam was quick to crack a joke and try to restore the humor.

***

Missions are always hard, with the exception of a few here and there where they get lucky to get in, get the job done and get out without any scratches on them. This time though, luck was not on their side.

Steve, Bucky, Sam and Natasha had all been in a mission in Germany, raiding a Hydra base, while the rest of the team were doing the same in Russia, shutting down the same experiment operation that Hydra was conducting.

When they returned, they were all miserable, beaten down and tired, faces and bodies covered in blood and  scars.

Y/n had been feeling guilty for not being able to help the team anymore every since her capture, so not being one to just stand around and do nothing while her family and friends risked her life to save the world, she started to work in the medical bay, tending to their wounds every time they needed the care.

This time was no different, she was prepared for their arrival hours ago, Natasha notifying her of the situation of each member.

As soon as the jet landed in the hangar, she ran towards her friends and helped them to the med bay. They all looked like they had been through hell. And she knew it was true. Hydra was hell and she had lived in that hell herself for three months a couple of years ago.

She began with Natasha, cleaning and suturing a deep gash on her hairline, assessing to her other wounds, a knife slashing in her upper arm, a couple of bruises in her ribs. After finishing with her she went to Steve, who had a busted lip and a few broken ribs, but ever the stubborn person he was, he insisted he was okay.

“You should see Bucky. He has a bullet wound in his abdomen and I think his shoulder is dislocated.” He informed her in a hushed but quick voice.

Her eyes widened and she asked another nurse to tend to him before she went to see Bucky.

Bucky was sitting at the end of the med bay, head hanging low and the breaths he was taking were short and shallow. Because of his past trauma and everything, he didn’t let anyone take care of him except from doctor Cho, who he had learned to trust with time, but unfortunately the woman wasn’t in the States at all that day.

Now Bucky was losing blood, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, not letting anyone take care of him.

Y/n approached him with careful steps, not wanting to startle him. “Hey, Bucky.” she spoke in a soft tone that was usually directed to him.

He picked up his head to look at her but said nothing. He was paler than she had ever seen him, surely he must have lost a lot of blood.

“Will you let me look at your wounds?  Steve said you’re shot-”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because he abruptly got up from his chair, making the way out of the med bay.

“I don’t need your help.”

His voice was hoarse and a little weak, but she could sense the animosity in his tone. Her heart broke a little from him words, but she couldn’t say anything to him. She wished things were different between them.

He took three more steps in the direction of the door and before he could leave the room, his knees gave out and he collapsed on the floor with a loud thud.

Three heads turned to the source of the noise and y/n gasped in horror when she saw Bucky fall down, but she immediately reacted and went to his side, helping him on his back and assessing to his wound.

Steve and Sam helped her get Bucky in one of the surgery tables where she had to get the bullet out and see his wound before he died of blood hemorrhage.

*

Bucky woke up feeling his head pounding. He opened his eyes with a little difficulty and first thing he saw was all white. White walls, white room, white sheets, and a person in a white coat sleeping in a chair next to his bed, her head tucked next to his thigh, two petite hands holding his metal hand in a firm grip.

When he saw who was next to him, Bucky’s heart started hammering in his chest, but he couldn’t let her be there. Despite feeling bad for having to wake her up, because she looked as if she hadn’t slept in days, he had to, before he did some stupid thing he would regret later.

He retracted his hand rather harshly from her hold and y/n startled awake, looking frantically around the room for any source of danger.

When her eyes met his she let out a sigh of relief and a small smile formed in her lips.

“You’re awake.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked in a gruffly voice, hoarse from disuse. Despite having saved his life, he still couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her.

“I’m sorry, I was just sitting in the chair and then fell asleep…” she was trying to find excuses for her presence there, but Bucky was having none of it.

He gave her what she understood to be a repulsed look and asked for Steve. The smile never leaving her lips, she nodded her head and quit the room quickly.

Despite everything he did to her, she couldn’t hate him, she couldn’t resent him. She felt too deeply for Bucky and it was killing her, but she couldn’t stop being nice to him. He deserved all the kindness in the world, no matter what.

She made a quick walk to Steve’s room and informed him about Bucky being awake. While talking to him she kept her easy smile and normal composure, but as soon as she retreated to her room, the pain came all at once, crushing her, causing her to fall down to her knees and cry her eyes out.

She sobbed and sobbed and felt the pain pierce through her chest, but she couldn’t help but still care for Bucky. All she needed to do was let out all the hurt and pain in the confines of her room and then get out, put a fake smile on her face and carry on taking care of Bucky and the rest of the team as if nothing had happened.

She had been practicing this kind of ritual for a long time, lately more often than not and she was used to it. She knew she was hurting but she couldn’t stop caring. It was her blessing and her curse.

***

The next time they were left alone together was a few months later during a week long visit in Wakanda. T'Challa had welcomed them in their palace, offering each and one of them personal chambers. It just happened that Bucky’s and y/n’s bedrooms were next to each other.

It was almost 3 am and with all the people living in the palace sleeping a peaceful quiet had embraced the atmosphere. Bucky couldn’t sleep, so he was writing in his journal his latest thoughts. Despite having gained all of his memories back and having them sorted in order, he kept writing in a journal, it helped him with his feelings, especially with the ones for y/n.

Speaking of her, he was just writing about the last time he had seen her in the compound, tired and consumed, eyes with dark circles under them and shoulders slumped, almost as she had given up in herself.

He had never seen her like that, even when he had just returned from Wakanda to become part of the Avengers, just a little after she was rescued from Hydra. Her smile, her pretty smile she always wore no matter what, was missing and Bucky couldn’t help but feel responsible and guilty for the state she was in.

He had been horrible towards her, but she never complained and despite his rudeness she kept being kind to him, treating him with extra care and tenderness, but he kept being mean to her. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world.

He was just closing his notebook to go to bed when he heard her blood curdling screams echoing through the walls. He was immediately on panic, running to her door to save her from any threat she might be facing.

Even though the king’s palace was one of the safest places on Earth, Bucky couldn’t help but fear that she was in real danger, if her screams were any indication.

He ran to her room and opened the door in a hurry, but instead of finding any threat there, he was met with her figure thrashing on the bed, kicking and yelling to the top of her lungs for help.

She was having a nightmare.

He was frozen in place, just looking at her living in a terror, before he reacted and without a second thought went to her bed to wake her up.

As he got closer he noticed there were tears in her eyes, and his heart broke for the innocent girl suffering. Bucky was very familiar to the nightmares and he knew that she must have them too, after the pain and torture she went through, but he had never heard her, their rooms in the compound being in different floors.

Without losing any more seconds he closed the distance with her and wrapped his arms around her, one hand getting the hair out of her face, patting them securely behind her ears. She was still screaming in his arms.

“Y/n wake up sweetheart.” He began talking in a sweet soothing voice. “Come on, wake up, it’s okay, it’s just a dream.” He continued speaking to her and caressing her cheeks with his fingertips.

She woke up startled, her eyes opening in shock and pushing at him to let her go.

“No, let me go!” She yelled but she only tightened his hold around her shoulders and kept on whispering to her ears.

“It’s me y/n, it’s Bucky. You’re safe now. It’s okay.”

Soon enough she calmed down and let her weight down in his arms, shoulders slumping forward and arms clinging to him for dear life.

“Bucky..” she muttered in a breathless voice and began to cry with loud sobs.

His heart was breaking seeing her like this, so he kept rocking her back and forth in his arms, trying to soothe her.

“It’s okay. It’s over now. You’re here, you’re safe.” He kept talking to her while his hands were rubbing up and down her back, helping with her calming down.

Eventually her breathing evened and she was quiet in his arms, but her hands hadn’t loosen their grip on his shirt at all. He kept hugging her and rocking her and whispering sweet nothings in her ears and he wasn’t planning on moving if it wasn’t for y/n who a few minutes after having calmed down went stiff in his arms and retreated her body from his.

“I’m sorry you had to come and wake me up.”

Her voice was small and hoarse from all the screaming, but Bucky heard it loud and clearly.

“I’m sorry you have nightmares.” He replied to her. She looked up to his eyes in surprise, not having expected him to say that.

Of course even having him there was a surprise in itself, but she guessed he just had to come and wake her up because her screaming was disturbing his sleep.

She shook her head.

“It’s not your fault.”

“But it is. I made your days a real nightmare too. I’m sorry y/n.”

He wiped the tears out of her cheeks and then took one of her hands in his and started playing mindlessly with her fingers.

“Buck..”

“Yeah?” His eyes met her in a hopeful glance, he didn’t know what she was about to say next, but he wanted to be there for her now, he didn’t want to leave her side.

“Why do you hate me?” Her seemingly nonchalant question made him shudder. He didn’t hate her. Of course he didn’t. But the way he acted towards her said otherwise.

He locked eyes with her for a moment and slowly started closing the distance between them.

“I don’t.” He answered simply and his lips met hers in a short and hesitant kiss.

At first she didn’t react to his lips on hers, but then she returned his kiss, just as timid as him, for a quick second and then she was the first to end it.

“I’m sorry. I should better go.” He said in a hurried voice, clearly embarrassed. He got up from the bed and made to leave the room, but her next words stopped him right in his tracks.

“Please don’t.”

It was barely a whisper and  if he didn’t have super soldier hearing he would probably miss it. But he heard her, and his head whipped around to see her already looking at him expectantly.

He turned back and sat on her bed again, and she nearly crawled to get close to him and curled to his chest, trying to protect herself from the outside world in his embrace.

Bucky circled his arms around her shoulders and moved them to a laying position, to be more comfortable.

“I’m sorry for everything, doll. I know I hurt you and I have no excuse for being such a jerk to you. I don’t deserve your tenderness and kindness, but you always go out of your way to make me feel better and for that I’m eternally grateful. I’m so sorry for causing you pain and hurting you when you didn’t deserve it at all.”

She just hugged him tighter and sighed in relief.

“It’s okay Buck. Everything is okay.”

That night they fell asleep in each other’s arms and it was the very first night of the best sleeps of their lives. In the morning they would talk it all out.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagines

[buckthegrump]

Are You Leaving My Love Behind?

Summary: At lot can happen in five years, but even more can happen in a few months.

Warnings:  Angst, pregnancy stuff, mentions of violence, fluff kind of

Word Count: 4.9k

A/n: this is for @wkemeup​ ‘s writing challenge my prompt was “please tell me that isn’t your blood” sorry it took me so fucking long to get it out

2018

“Ok, we’re gonna start trying,” Charlie smiled as his wife, Y/n, who smiled back at him. 

“I think now’s the best time, I mean we’re never gonna be really ready, ya know?” She lifted her wine glass.

He lifted his glass to tap against hers. But they never touched. Just as they were about to, Y/n’s fell to the ground and shattered. Charlie turned his attention to the mess she had made while Y/n stared at her hand in horror. He looked back up at her with a question on his lips that was never fully formed.

Painfully slow, they watched as Y/n’s body slowly turned gray then to dust. She looked her husband in the eye.

“I love you,” was the last thing she said before she disappeared. 

Charlie sat on the couch watching as the dust particles of his wife slowly fell to the ground.

2023

Y/n was sitting on a couch in a house. Her house, but this wasn’t her couch. The room looked like her living room, but there was something off about it, something different that she couldn’t identify. And it was more than just the fact that the couch was different.

“Y/n?” A familiar voice filled her eyes and relief washed over her. That is until she turned around.

Charlie was standing there with another woman. He looked different, older, tired, still hot though. But it was the other woman that stood there with him that had most of Y/n’s attention. It was the possessive hand on his bicep, and more so the blinding ring on her left hand.

“Charlie,” Y/n whispered, unable to hide the fear and hurt in her voice, “Who’s this?”

* * *

Y/n stared at the snack table in front of her. All the donuts had been sliced in half despite the fact that it was a full dozen and there weren’t even six people in the room. And she highly doubted that anyone else would join, her therapist said that it was a smaller group. 

Maybe it was so small because not many people knew about it. It didn’t help that it was in the gym of an old high school that was not only creepy but a little hard to find. Or maybe people were scared off by the superheroes that were sitting around the circle. Even though there were only two of them.

Y/n grabbed two whole donuts silently daring anyone to say anything about it and sat down in a chair. The two superheroes and one civilian sat next to each other and the leader of this grief group sat in a chair that was meant to be the head of the circle. While Y/n had secluded herself from the group.

“I think now is a good time to start,” the leader spoke, “My name is Sarah, for those of us who are new.”

Sarah very pointedly looked at Y/n who was still chowing down on her donuts trying to turn invisible.

“Anyway -” Sarah then made everyone introduce themselves and share something.

Sam and Bucky were here because they’d lost their friends. Y/n couldn’t tell if they were talking about Tony Stark or Steve Rogers, or maybe both. Maddi was there because while she’d just given birth when she got dusted and came back to a child that she didn’t know, which made Y/n feel stupid for her thing.

So she told them that she was just having trouble adjusting to life after ‘the blip’. Which wasn’t a complete lie but at this point, she was much more interested in finishing her donut.

Y/n didn’t talk much the rest of the time and let the others speak and work through their problems.

“Y/n,” Sarah addressed her at the end of group, “Are you sure you don’t have anything you’d like to share?”

“Not this week,” she answered.

And for a few weeks, she would answer the same way and Sarah would give her the same look. As time went on a few more people joined the group until there were a whopping eight people there, not including Sarah. (Still not enough for them to have any real reason to cut the donuts in half, in Y/n’s correct opinion.) Y/n hadn’t really bothered to commit their names to her memory but it’s not like she ever talked to anyone outside of this.

She hadn’t planned on saying much in group at all, she only came because her therapist said that if she continued to come he would bring some of his wife’s baking to one of their sessions. And she really wanted some cookies.

But, earlier that day she’d sat in an office across from Charlie. 

“Y/n, anything you’d like to share this week?” Sarah asked as she did every week. She was clearly expecting Y/n to say no.

“I shouldn’t hate Daniella, I know logically I shouldn’t but apparently the smart part of my brain is much smaller than the stupid part,” Y/n said. She almost left it at that just to get it off her chest.

“Why?” Bucky asked. Y/n and he locked eyes for a moment that seemed way too long for the setting there were in before she answered him.

“Why what?”

“Why do you hate her?”

Y/n laughed humorlessly. “She’s living the life I want. I know how that sounds but it’s true. I was dusted out of existence and when I came back apparently it was five years later and my husband, who watched me die, had fallen in love with someone else and asked her to marry him. So you can imagine his shock when I reappeared on the sofa in the middle of the afternoon as if nothing had happened.

“He still wants to marry her,” she could feel the lump in her throat begin to rise and did nothing to stop the tears from flowing. “So he asked for a divorce. And I know that it was five years ago and he’s changed, he had to live through my death. But he didn’t. . . I didn’t change. It’s only been four months since I’ve been back and he didn’t even try.”

She paused but no one spoke. They all sat there staring at her.

“And I know that my problems aren’t half as bad as some of the shit that y’all are going through but I just -” Y/n tried to swallow but it was hard. “Why the fuck does she get my life?”

* * *

Y/n was sitting in a forgotten hallway of the school, yes with the box of donuts in her lap. But she had lost her appetite.

“Ya know it’s considered rude to run off with the donuts.” She looked up to find Bucky Barnes standing next to her. She opened the box and offered him some. He grabbed one of the jelly-filled ones and sat down next to her. 

“We were going to try for kids, probably adopt some too, he really loved kids.”

“It’s really shitty of him for doing that to you,” he whispered.

“I lied, he didn’t ask for the divorce,” she admitted, “I did.”

“Why?”

“For the first month, I lived with them. I watched them interact and I -” she paused to compose herself. “He used to look at me like that. It’s not his fault I’m still living in the past. For a week I thought I was pregnant, and I was so relieved when I wasn’t. I don’t think I would’ve kept it if I had been.”

Bucky didn’t say anything and he hadn’t taken a bite of his donut yet.

“Sorry, group is over I shouldn’t be unloading all my bullshit on you.” She began to stand.

“It’s fine I don’t mind,” he told her.

“You’re very sweet, but it’s not like we’re friends or anything,” she smiled down at him.

He stumbled to his feet before she could walk away. “We could be.”

She looked at him expecting to see pity behind his gaze but she found none. What she did find was something that she couldn’t put a name to.

“Ok,” she agreed, “I don’t have many friends these days. Walk with me.”

So he walked her ‘home’ which was more of a temporary living situation. She had always been a babbler, it was something that Charlie constantly said would get her in trouble sooner rather than later. That day had finally arrived.

“I was sorry to hear about your friends,” she said as they walked.

“Thanks,” he said with a shrug.

“Do you miss him? Captain America, I mean. What do I even call him? Captain America seems so formal but calling him Steve Rogers seems too casual ya know?”

“It’s complicated. It’s not like we were dating or anything but I thought -” the nearly forgotten donut in his hand made its way to his mouth. Y/n walked silently waiting for him to continue his thought or change the subject. “I just assumed that we were something different.”

“Were you in love with him?” She blurted and he nearly choked on his bite. “You don’t have to answer that. In fact, forget I even asked.”

“I think so,” he answered once he was able to speak. “But clearly he didn’t feel the same way about me.”

“Why do you say that?”

Bucky chuckled. “That’s a little harder to explain.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” she said as she stopped in front of a dingy motel. “This is me.”

Bucky’s brows knitted together and his lip twinged in disgust. “You live here?”

“Well, I couldn’t really continue living with the happy couple, could I?” She asked. “Good night, Bucky. I’ll see ya next week.”

* * *

Charlie was talking about something to do with the divorce, but Y/n wasn’t really listening.

“Y/n,” he said pulling her from her daydreaming.

“Huh?”

“I know when you’re spacing out, is everything ok?”

Y/n let out a quiet sigh. What a loaded question. But the short answer was no. Of course, she wasn’t ok. How could she be? She was about to get a divorce that she wasn’t sure she wanted. Sure, she was the one who asked for it, but the look of relief on Charlie’s face when she suggested it-

If she hadn’t had said it when she did, sooner or later, he would’ve.

The paper was just sitting there on the table in front of her. The legal side of the divorce was pretty straight forward with a little leeway for Y/n after being gone for five years.

“I’m fine, Charlie,” she said. After taking a deep breath she flipped the pen in her fingers and signed the paper without a second thought. “I’ll see ya around, Ace.”

“Y/n,” he said.

Before he could get another word out she rushed through the doors. She walked faster than she needed to away from the building once she was outside knowing that Charlie would probably try to follow her. Well, at least her Charlie from five years ago would’ve. 

She wandered around the city for hours until she found herself outside the high school, that had recently reopened, where the grief group was held. It wasn’t until she saw Sam and Bucky walking towards her that she remembered that it was Thursday and they did have group today. She was also painfully aware of the tear streaks that stained her cheeks.

Sam made a b-line for the high school entrance, while Bucky walked right to her.

“What’s wrong?” He started to lift his had but put it back down at his side thinking better of it. She began to shake her head ready to deny that anything was wrong. “Don’t bother lying to me.”

“I signed the divorce papers today,” she whispered.

Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line. “Do you wanna skip today?” She nodded and he gave her a small smile. “C’mon, I know of something way more fun than dealing with our emotions.”

* * *

Y/n was still crying but now they were tears from laughing too hard. Bucky had fallen on his ass for the seventh time in two minutes. One would think that a highly trained assassin would know how to stay upright on a pair of roller skates.

“Who knew that all they need to defeat the great Bucky Barnes is a pair of skates,” she giggled as she rolled over to him to help him up.

“Keep laughing,” he grunted, “I’m about to get the hang of this stupid thing and lap you so hard.”

“Oh, I don’t think so baby blue.” She offered him his hand, which he gladly took. But once he was standing he instantly almost fell again but Y/n caught him helping him balance. He was gripping her for arms as he steadied himself. He looked up from his feet to her face.

The lights of the roller rink dimmed and the disco ball was the only thing illuminating the floor, some 80’s love ballad started playing, and the rest of the people skating around them ceased to exist for a brief moment.

All the pain that she’d been feeling for that past few months, every thought of Daniella and Charlie, everything, except for Bucky, melted away. And for one glorious second, her heart wasn’t heavy.

But then the moment was over and it all came rushing back hitting her like a semi-truck barreling down the highway. 

She smiled and gently prompted Bucky to stand up on his own.

“Here’s your chance hot-shot, get the hang of it and lap me.” She stuck her tongue out at him and skated away from him.

Once she was facing away from him her smile dropped. If she had stayed in that position even a half-second longer she would’ve done something stupid. Like, try to kiss him, which only could’ve ended with him rejecting her. For a multitude of reasons on his end, and she just wasn’t ready for something like that. 

The universe was clearly playing some sort of cosmic joke on her.

About an hour later they were walking down the street in the general direction of Y/n’s temporary home but she almost didn’t want the night to end.

“Thank you,” she said bumping her shoulder against Bucky’s as they walked. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I meant it when I said I wanted to be friends.”

She looked down at the ground smiling. He shouldn’t be affecting her like this, she’d just signed divorce papers for fuck’s sake.

“Give me your phone,” she said when they stopped in front of the motel. He handed it over to her unlocked and she put her number in and handed it back. “There, now we don’t have to wait a week to talk to each other.”

“You might regret this choice,” he teased then bid her goodbye.

Later that night she got a text from Bucky. It was some video with the caption ‘I thought you would find this funny.’

* * *

A few days after she signed the papers, she found an apartment that was move-in ready. Things were finally starting to look up for her. She wanted to text Charlie and just talk to him but she restrained herself.

Instead, she distracted herself with social media, and apparently she hadn’t unfollowed her ex-husband because the first thing she saw on Instagram was a picture of him and Daniella. It was obviously some of their engagement photos, and whatever good feelings she’d had, flew out the window.

On a whim, she texted the only friend she had these days. She wasn’t expecting anything to come from it, but about forty-five minutes later Bucky was knocking at her door.

“What are you doing here?” She asked as she opened the door.

“I brought treats,” he said walking in not waiting for her to invite him in. He set the brown bag down on her coffee table and sat on her couch. “And there are a bunch of movies that I’ve been told are classics that I haven’t seen yet, so help me catch up.”

She smiled at him as she sat next to him on the couch and dug into the bag of snacks.

They were halfway through the first movie when she was hit with a sudden wave of emotions and she started crying.

“Woah,” Bucky whispered putting down his drink on the coffee table. He turned to her. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s my best friend, or he was,” she wiped the tears off her cheeks, “Any time someone talks about getting a divorce they don’t talk about that you lose your best friend. I saw something stupid on the street a few days ago like right after the signing and I wanted to text Charlie so bad. And I had the message all typed and ready to go when I remembered that I can’t do that anymore.

“Not to mention that all my friends pre-blip weren’t blipped away and now they have all moved on and I’m still in the same place I was five years ago.” She looked down at her hands and picked at her thumbnail. “I just - all my life I was afraid of being left behind, and now I have been.”

“Well, I like stupid things,” Bucky said, “so next time you can text me. We’re friends, and I know what it’s like to be left behind.”

* * *

As the week went on Y/n realized a pattern in her behavior. Any time that she found something funny or just wanted to talk to anyone, Bucky was her first choice. She had other friends but Bucky had quickly become her best friend.

Thursday came faster than she expected it to. And for once, she was actually looking forward to it. 

That is until she opened Instagram. Charlie had posted again, and it used to be that he would post maybe once every month if that. So him posting again so soon after the most recent one, surprised her a little, but, she could handle Charlie and Daniella being cute in one post.

She was sitting in the chair in the circle while the rest of the patrons trickled in, and that’s when she finally really looked at the post and her heart nearly stopped.

“Alrighty,” Sarah said calling attention to herself, “Let’s begin. Does anyone want to start us off?”

Everyone was silent, Y/n sent a pleading look to Bucky who was across the circle from her. She knew that if no one else started it Sarah would -

“Y/n,” Sarah said as if she could read minds, “We missed you last week. Anything you’d like to share?”

Y/n snorted. “Two seconds before I was turned to dust, my husband, well ex-husband, and I had just decided to start trying for a kid. And now we’re divorced, and his new fiancee is pregnant. Or at least they just announced it, which means they’ve known for a few months. But I’m just trying to figure out what the fuck I did in a past life to warrant this kind of bullshit. Ya know?”

“Well,” Sarah started but Y/n wasn’t paying attention. All of her attention was on Bucky who was staring back at her. His gaze was unwavering. He offered her a small smile, which she returned.

At that moment, something deep inside her sparked back to life. She knew the feeling, she hadn’t had these feelings since the beginning of her relationship with Charlie. She had this feeling of almost despair with the knowledge that she could easily fall in love with this man if she wasn’t careful.

And Y/n was one clumsy fucker.

* * *

Y/n would like to say that she held out for months before she fell in love with Bucky.

It would be a lie, but ya gotta lie to yourself sometimes.

Three weeks had passed since Charlie’s announcement and Y/n hadn’t thought about it in a long time.

No, instead she was spending most of her free time acting like a high school girl who had a crush. When she was in bed at night texting him she would be grinning like an idiot. Or anytime he called her, her heart would skip several beats.

It even got to the point where one time at the support group he said something to her that was mildly flirtatious and her palms started full-on sweating. It was getting ridiculous.

Crushes weren’t supposed to feel like that as an adult. The butterflies in her stomach were supposed to be subdued, her heart wasn’t supposed to completely stop every time he so much as smiled at her. And yet, that’s exactly what she was going through.

* * *

There was one Thursday when Bucky wasn’t at group. He had sent her a text telling her as much, but she’d hoped that he was lying and was going to show up anyway. Because yes, they were friends and hung out outside of Thursday nights, but with the group, they got to see each other every week.

But then she didn’t hear from him for a few days, then a whole week. Which wasn’t the biggest deal in the world, people get busy Y/n understood that. She didn’t start to worry until another Thursday came and went without a word from Bucky.

Y/n was pacing her living room after group and was three seconds from calling Bucky and then the police if he didn’t respond. Then there was a knock at her door.

She opened it to find a beaten and bloodied Bucky standing at her door, and her heart dropped to her stomach.

“I forgot to text,” he whispered, but she was no longer worried about the lack of contact for the past week.

“Please tell me that isn’t your blood,” she whispered.

He gave her finger guns and the weakest smile. “I can’t.”

“Jesus, Barnes,” she pulled him in and closed the door behind him.

Y/n led him to the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked as he watched her sort through everything in the bathroom looking for the supplies she needed.

She glanced at him sideways before wetting a washcloth with warm water. As gently as she could, she began to wipe the blood away from his face. Y/n focused solely on his blood-stained cheeks, but she could feel Bucky’s gaze glued to her.

“Ya know that I’ll take a shower and be fine, I’m a super soldier I don’t need you to patch me up,” he said softly sending a shiver down her spine.

“Do you want me to stop?” She started to pull her hand away but Bucky caught her wrist in his hand.

“No.”

Y/n continued silently cleaning off his face, he hissed when she found a cut on his left cheekbone. She mumbled an apology but then found yet another half-healed gash on his face.

“Is this punishment for not telling you I had to go on a mission?” He teased.

“Is that where you were?” She raised an eyebrow at him and he smiled sheepishly. “Well, now the lack of communication during the week makes sense. But what I still don’t understand is why you decided to forego a shower before showing up at my doorstep battered and bruised? Especially if you knew that you would heal up in a few hours. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll tell you what’s going on next time. And shower before I come over.”

“As long as you come over,” Y/n shrugged.

* * *

Sam was sitting on the couch when Bucky returned to their shared apartment. The grin on Sam’s face didn’t go unnoticed but Bucky was trying to ignore him.

“You didn’t even bother to shower before you went over to her place,” Sam unnecessarily pointed out. “How bad do you have it?”

“I do not have it bad-”

Sam interrupted him with a laugh. “Barnes, she got you acting like a damned fool. And don’t think I haven’t seen the way that you stare longingly at her during support group. And the stupid smile you have on your face anytime she texts you. Not to mention -”

“Ok, ok, I get it. You know I like her.”

Sam stared at him in disbelief. “That’s what you’re calling it? ‘Liking her’? Boy, I got some news for you.”

Bucky sighed and sunk into the couch next to Sam. “I can’t be in love with her Sam. We only met a few months ago. Not to mention she just got a divorce.”

“Well, you were apart of two different fights for the universe with no break in between. Your concept of time and the time you have left on earth has been altered. The timeline that you normally would’ve given yourself doesn’t really apply anymore. And if I’m right, which I am, you’re probably not gonna tell her that you’re in love with her for about 80 years after being on ice for 70 of those years, fighting a war or two and then leaving your best friends with little to no warning. Then somehow making your way back to your friends only to, I don’t know, take off your arm and saying ‘you’re in charge now’,” Sam said only mildly bitterly.

Bucky snorted.

“If it’s any consolation,” Sam said after a moment, “I think that she could be falling in love with you too.”

* * *

Y/n was sitting on Bucky’s couch. It was only the second time she’d been to his apartment. And she was trying to relax but she was trying not to think about the fact that she was falling in love with Bucky.

It was the fact that she was already so enamored by him and she’d just gotten a divorce.  She felt guilty. For what? Having feelings? Moving on with her life?

“Steve isn’t dead,” Bucky blurted.

Y/n looked at him, eyes wide. “What?”

“Rogers,” Bucky continued. “He didn’t die in the same fight as Tony. He went back in time to be with Peggy, which is his own choice. But it’s like every time I got him back I lost him again, and this time he chose it. I don’t know, I just feel like I’m wanted.”

“I want you,” she said. His eyes were wide when he looked at her. “No, that’s not really what I meant but like -”

“I get what you mean,” he said then whispered, “I think.”

“Do you want pizza?” Y/n asked getting off the sofa.

“We’re not gonna talk about how you want me? Specifically for my body,” Bucky got up and followed her.

“I’ve decided to kill you and then you would be a joke in your community. A supersoldier, taken out by little old me, a human. You have a metal arm, Barnes, why was I able to take you down?”

“Well, I hope that you do well in your life after you murder me in cold blood.”

“It wouldn’t be in cold blood, besides I don’t even know how to throw a proper punch,” she shrugged.

Bucky chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to fight.”

Y/n looked down at the floor with the hint of a smile on her face. “Ok, thanks.”

“But do you actually want pizza?” He asked as he grabbed his phone. Y/n looked up from the ground at him. “Because I could order some and then have Sam pick it up on his way home.”

“Pizza sounds good.”

“Great.” Bucky unlocked his phone and started typing away. 

“You’d really teach me how to fight? I’m not coordinated at all, but I’m great at giving people bruises, so prepared for that,” she gave him finger guns.

Bucky chuckled. “Ok, Sam is gonna pick up the pizza and -”

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Y/n blurted.

She and Bucky stared at each other silently for a moment. Y/n let out a noise that was halfway between a squeal and a laugh before running towards the door. Bucky grabbed her arm before she got far.

“It’s not fair to tell me something like that and then run away,” he said softly.

“But what if you judge me?”

“I have no place to judge you.”

“I shouldn’t have blurted it at all because now you might feel pressured to say something you don’t mean. Listen if you don’t feel the same way and want to just say friends just tell me right now, I can handle it.”

Bucky tilted his head to the side. “What makes you think I don’t feel the same?”

A beat. 

The tension between them got so intense Y/n almost couldn’t stand it. For a brief moment, she thanked her lucky stars that Sam wasn’t in the apartment because he definitely would’ve made a joke that ruined the moment.

“Do you wanna kiss me as much as I wanna kiss you?” Bucky asked.

“No,” she said and his face twisted in confusion, “Clearly I want to do it more.”

She cupped his cheeks with her hands pulling him into her. Once their lips met every worry she had about falling in love again went out the window. All the guilt and anxiety that had been building up over the last few months was gone. 

The door to the apartment opened and in walked Sam. Bucky and Y/n were still in each other's arms and they stared at Sam who stared back blankly.

“Shit, the pizza,” was all he said before he walked right back out the door.

“Just so there’s no confusion, I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you too,” Bucky said.

“Good because that would’ve been awkward,” Y/n chuckled.

#kas4kwc #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x reader

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Steve//i can see a better time, when all our dreams come true

hey! last part! i just want to say thank you to everyone who’s read, liked, reblogged and supported this series! you all mean the absolute world to me. i know this is gonna sound cringey or whatever, but this series is more than just that. i was originally supposed to write and post this last christmas. but something that i can’t really remember stopped me and i was so disappointed in myself. then this hell hole of a year happened and i had a major mental health crisis (something i am still recovering from) meaning i couldn’t do anything but watch the same three tv shows and scroll through instagram for about 3 months, as well as a bunch of other awful things. i thought it would be a miracle to just start writing requests again, but then when i was going through a notebook, i found this idea and remembered how much i loved it and how upset i was that i hadn’t done it. so i thought i’d try and do it, and after many, many days and nights of me stressing about the littlest things and driving my girlfriend absolutely insane by only talking about this (sorry, i love you!), i’d done it! and i am so proud of myself! i know its not the biggest achievement of the year, but it’s mine. so again thank you to not only everyone whose read this series, but also thank you to everyone who has read and supported everything i’ve done this year. i really do hope that next year is a better one for all of you! happy new year my loves! 

They say that time moves in different ways depending on the situation. 

For example, the day you spent hours driving to the beach with Steve and Robin felt like it was over in five minutes. But the time stuck under ground in a really crappy elevator with them felt more like a week. 

From the time it takes Steve to take his bandana and goggles off and to walk the three steps to you, it feels like days and seconds all at once. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight to him and the two of you let out a breath you feel like you’ve been holding for the past week. Finally you feel like you can breathe again, and finally the weight on Steve’s chest shifts a little. 

Your hair is matted, your clothes dirty and torn and there’s a cut on your cheek, blood slowly trickles down your cheek, staining your face and your t-shirt red. But you’re you, and you’re alive and you look like you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” You’re the first to speak, your words stumbling over each other. A chuckle mixed with a sob passes your lips as you hug him again, you hold him tighter than he’s ever been hugged before, it feels like his ribs are being crushed but he doesn’t care. He just presses a kiss against your forehead, and runs his fingers through your knotted hair. 

Hot tears land on the top of your head but you don’t feel them, you’re too busy crying into his shirt and the two of you stand like that for a few minute, thankful and very overwhelmed that the other one is alive and well. 

“I think I do.” He sobs and you let out a short laugh. “I love you so much Y/n. I am so fucking sorry. I’m such an idiot.” 

“No, no. It’s fine.” You cup his cheeks. “I was overreacting and I shouldn’t have stormed off. It’s fine.” You say and press a quick kiss to his lips, they’re salty because of the tears but neither of you care. “I love you Steve.” You finish and he breathes deeply, his shoulders sagging and the only thing that keeps him from falling is you. 

“I thought you were dead.” He cries. 

“Nah. You can’t get rid of me that easy.” You try, nudging his shoulder but he doesn’t smile. 

“I thought I’d never see you again. I thought...I thought.” 

“I’m fine.” You cut him off before he can finish his sentence. “Look. I’m good.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” He teases and you stare at him offended. 

“Rude. You do know that I almost died right?” 

“You’re so dramatic.” He rolls his eyes and yours widen. 

“Excuse me? I’m sorry who came all the way into an alternate dimension just to save me? Oh right. You.” 

“I only did that because I had nothing better to do. You know after boxing day things got a bit boring.” He shrugs and you slap his shoulder. 

“Asshole.” You mumble making him laugh. “How did you find me?” 

“Do you really think I’d forget the place we first met?” He replies, sending you a look and you squint up at him, the light from his torch blinding you slightly. “Sorry.” He mumbles and quickly turns it off.

“I thought given the circumstances you would have at least tried.” You shrug, staring at the floor. 

“Nah. Surprisingly it was the best day of my life.” He confesses and it surprises not only you but himself. That’s something he never thought he’d say. 

He thought Halloween 1984 would be a day that always hurt to think about. And yeah, thinking about what Nancy said to him still stung, but then he remembers you. 

You, in a costume he didn’t quite get. Your expression full of irritation that only softened when you saw him crying. You who asked what was wrong and stayed with him until he decided he wanted to go home. You who the next day found him to make sure he was okay. 

“Will you marry me?” He asks and your eyes widen.

“What?” You splutter and he stares at you hopefully. 

“I love you more than I have loved anything ever. You’re my favourite person ever, you make every day brighter. On days where I think I can’t do anything, when I think my dad is right about all the the shit he’s said and that little nagging voice in my head is shouting, you’re always there to tell me I’m wrong. You’ve helped me when I’ve been broken up with, beaten up and drugged. You fought a Russians for me and beaten up creatures from another dimension without even knowing what it was. I’ve never felt safer or happier with you by my side. I know I’m an idiot, but still...will you marry me?” 

“Steve.” You gasp, tears roll down your cheeks mixing with the blood and goo. “Yes. Yes I will marry you.” You reply and he lets of a sigh of relief. “Although, you didn’t get on one knee, and I don’t see a ring.” You tease and he rolls his eyes. 

His hands cup your cheeks delicately, he ducks his head down and presses a gentle kiss against your chapped and sore lips. 

“Steve? Steve? Are you okay?” Robin’s voice crackles through the walkie-talkie and you jump apart, suddenly remembering where you are. A loud crash comes from just outside and you and Steve freeze and stare at each other.

Thunder booms so loud it rings in your ears for a few seconds after and Steve feels the weight come back, only this time its shared with you too.

“I’ve got her.” He says slowly and eyes the bathroom suspiciously. “If you’re not already at the portal, go now. We’re on our way back...over.” He says and you hear a collection of relived sighs. 

“Yay! You said it!” Annie cheers and Steve rolls his eyes.

“What she means is we’re glad you’re both okay. Now get your ass back.” Robin adds and you and Steve don’t need to be told twice. Steve grabs the bat he dropped on the floor and reaches for your hand. He starts to pull you but is instantly stopped when he hears your cry in pain. 

“What? What’s wrong?” He’s in front of you instantly, looking you up and down for any injuries, and then his eyes land on your leg, and you watch him pale. 

“Stupid ugly thing got me.” You mumble and glance down at it, you cringe at the sight of the now brown blood, and inflamed scratches. Yeah, there is no way you’re going to be able to get that stain out.

“Can you walk.” He asks and looks around for anything to help. 

“I’ll be fine Steve. I just need to get used to it.” You reply. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” You nod. “Come on. I don’t want to be in Tina’s bathroom anymore than I already have been.” 

“Same.” He huffs and wraps his bandana around you. 

“What about you?” You ask while he puts the goggles on you. 

“I’ll be fine.” He waves you off. “It’s only a bit of dust.” He smirks and you roll your eyes. “Now come on.” He says quicker and wraps an arm around you. The two of you hobble towards the front door, tripping on a few vines and branches.

Steve helps you balance against the wall and the front door creaks as he pulls it open. 

“Okay.” He nods and looks back at you. “Nothing is waiting to kill us so I think we’ll be fine.” 

Famous last words.” You smirk and he rolls his eyes at you while helping you walk again. 

As soon as your outside, the door slams closed making the two of you jump. Wind rushes around the two of you and brown and black works its way into the cracks of the sky. Buildings tumble down around you, almost as if an invisible force is stomping on each of them. You and Steve share a look as the chaos seems to get closer and closer to you. 

“Shall we go then?” Steve asks, his eyes wide with fear and you quickly nod. 

“Yep.” You reply. “I hate parties anyway.” You say and a small smile twitches on your lips. Steve returns it and the two of you make your way down the steps and onto the street. 

Thankfully, Tina doesn’t live that far from you. In the past that was something you hated because it meant you couldn’t get out of parties, this time however, you’re very grateful for the closeness of your homes. 

In an ideal world, it means you’ll be able to get back to the right and semi-safe world in less than twenty minutes. However, if the past seven years have taught you and Steve anything, it’s that you don’t live in an ideal world. You live in the opposite in fact. 

Like you said, the habitants of The Upside Down, don’t care much for cleaning, and it’s only made worse now that the entire things seems to be collapsing around you. Either it’s doing it on purpose so none of you can escape, or all of you just have some really bad timing. 

“So this whole place is dying?” You ask and look around. It certainly looks like it’s dying. It has done since you woke up and its only gotten worse. You also thought it was strange that you hadn’t been eaten by now. 

“Yep.” He replies. “Apparently all those times we thought we’d won but hadn’t. Did actually do something. It just took a while for it to feel the affect.” 

“And I’m in here because?” 

“Annie said that whatever dragged you in, was probably looking for anything to eat.” He replies and you think about it for a few seconds. 

“So why didn’t it eat me?” 

“How the hell am I suppose to know.” He says. “Do I look like the scientist here?” 

“Furthest from actually.” 

“Exactly.” He smiles. 

“So what’s the plan?” 

“We get out as quickly as we can.” 

“The more detailed plan?” You roll your eyes. 

“Dustin and Lucas got a bunch of explosives and fireworks. We’ve dumped them in here and as soon as we get out, El and Will’s going to explode them!” He says proudly and you look at him impressed. 

“Wo-Watch out!”

You and Steve narrowly miss being hit by a falling tree, only to trip over some sort of decaying monster. 

“Gross.” You huff and look down at your hands, now covered in blood and guts. “Are you okay Steve?” You ask while trying to stand back up. 

“No.” He mumbles and you frown as you turn around to face him. He’s hunched over in the middle of the road, dry heaving and your eyebrows furrow as you watch him. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, however instead of answering you’re just met with a groan. “Steve? We haven’t got all day.” 

“It went in my mouth!” He exclaims and turns around, throwing his hands up in the air. “That things guts were in my mouth. I can taste blood. Oh god. I’m gonna die. Or turn into one of those. Y/n, if I turn into anything like that please just kill me. You have my permission to take a baseball bat to my head...just please, bury me somewhere nice.” He rambles making you snort a laugh. “It’s not funny Y/n.” 

“It kind of is.” You reply and he glares at you. 

“It’s not.” He mutters and slowly walks towards you. However he freezes when he notices your eyes widening. “What?” He asks. “Y/n? What’s wrong?” 

“Don’t move.” You whisper and he feels his blood run cold. 

“What?” He squeaks and watches you slowly limp and pick up the bat lying on the floor. 

“Oh god. It’s happening isn’t. I love you Y/n. Tell Robin it was me that broke her Walkman. I told her it was Dustin, but it was me.” He closes his eyes, expecting the worst. 

Something scratches at his legs and he breathes in, this is it. He’s going to die, so are you and everything is going to be for nothing. He wants to reach out for you, to hold you close and then at least you’ll be together, but he can’t he’s frozen. 

And then he hears a thud, a small whine and your heavy breathing. Slowly he opens one eye, expecting to see some sort of toothy monster staring back at him. But instead he’s met with the back of your head. He watches you drop the bat, the noise echoing into the darkness and slowly he looks down. 

He’s not entirely sure what tried to kill him, it’s unrecognizable now that’s been beaten into the ground, but it looks scary anyway. 

“It’s the same fucker that dragged me in here in the first place.” You look over your shoulder and wipe your forehead. 

“I love you so much.” He stares at you in awe. “That was hot.” 

“Shut up.” You huff but wink at him anyway. “Are you okay?” You ask and glance at his leg. 

“Oh, yeah.” He shrugs and looks at the small scratch. “I’ll be fine. What about you?”

“I’ll live.” You shrug. 

The two of you stumble around the corner and into the forest and you watch as your friends climb through the glowing doorway to the real world. 

“Guys!” Steve shouts making everyone freeze. The kids have already gone through, leaving just Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, Annie and Joyce behind. Tears form in your eyes as you stare at your friends. 

“Hurry up!” Jonathan shouts. 

“I’m trying! It’s a bit difficult though with my leg hanging off!” You shout back and watch as Jonathan pushes Nancy through the goo before running towards you. 

“Jonathan!” Joyce shouts, her voice can barely be heard over the wind. It blows through your ears and makes you shiver. Trees move wildly around you and you watch as the sky starts to fall away. 

“Well that can’t be good.” You gulp and walk a bit quicker. Jonathan stands on the other side of you, holding your waist and the three of you stumble towards the portal. 

They let go of you and push you through, you land on the forest floor with a loud thud and small groan escapes your lips. 

“Y/n!” The group shout and everyone moves to help you stand. You’ve never been so happy to see everyone. Robin and Annie pull Jonathan, Steve and Joyce through. And as soon as Joyce is stood up, El and Will press the detonators. There’s a loud bang that makes you all jump back, and you watch as the portal vanishes, leaving the brown of the tree trunk behind. 

“Is everyone here?” Joyce asks and scans the group. 

“It’s a bit late if they’re not.” Robin replies.��“But yes...I think we did it. We actually did it! Yes!!” She cheers and jumps up and down. Everyone shares a look before looking back at her and even Annie looks a little concerned. 

“I can’t believe you all came for me.” You pull the goggles and fabric off of your face, and tears roll down your cheeks. 

“Of course we did.” Dustin hugs you. 

“You didn’t think we’d leave you in there did you?” Nancy asks also wrapping you up into a tight hug. The res of the group follow and soon you’re in the middle of an eleven people hug...not that you’re complaining though. 

“Jesus Christ. How long were we in there?” Steve asks and looks at the now dark sky.

“Who the fuck cares. Let’s go home.” 

Fireworks crackle and explode above your head. The sky lights up with red and oranges, leading the way home for the 12 of you. 

The residents hope that the bright lights will keep the darkness at bay, but from now on, they won’t have to.

“Happy New Year love.” 

“Happy New Year Steve.” 

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine

[bucky-s-girl-n-stuff]

One Shot [B.B]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Words: 2 226

Summary: Sam gets injured on a mission forcing the team to stop in France where Bucky meets someone unusual.

Rating: G

Warnings: Almost death of a character, mention of injuries (no descriptions), arguing.

Civil War, Infinity War and Endgame never happened, everyone is happy and friends with each other. 

The Avengers had been called to intervene at an old Hydra base that had been active again. The mission was successful and the intel secure. Nevertheless, they had been outnumbered and Sam had gotten badly hurt. He was unconscious, lying on a stretcher in the Quinjet. Bruce was assessing his injuries while everyone was attending their own wounds the best they could. 

"He's not gonna make it..." 

As soon as those words left Bruce mouth, everyone stopped what they were doing. All eyes were directed toward Sam. Each one of them wanting to scream at the thought of losing him. You could see heads churning plans after plans to make it to the medical bay sooner, to heal him right now. But there was nothing to do really, it was almost too late. They were flying over Europe and even with the Quinjet, it would still take hours to arrive at the Tower.

Bucky was the first one to move forward Sam and the only one brave enough to break the silence.

"We have to do something..."

"Buck..." Steve started.

"I know someone," Tony interrupted "Nat, where are we right now?"

"Over Germany, why?" She responded.

"Head over to France. We're saving him and if it's too late... at least we can say we tried our best." Tony gave a small smile at Bucky who nodded thankfully at him. Tony got to the GPS, taping in the new coordinates.

After a few hours, they were on the French soil and thanks to Tony, 3 cars were waiting for them. The drive from the airport was short. The Avengers were in front of a house, in the middle of the Parisian suburbs, at 3 in the morning. The scene would be comical if not for the tragic state of Sam. They were all filthy with mud and dust from the battlefield, still in suits, sheepishly standing in front of a yellow and red house surrounded by a fence and plants for privacy purposes. Tony was the first to enter the property. A man was standing on the terrace, arms crossed, looking angry. The second the Avengers were up the terrace stairs, Tony and the man began to argue. 

"I told you to never come back. I don't want to hear it!" The stranger said to Tony in a heavy french accent.

"And trust me I don't want to be here either but it's a life or death situation!"

"The last time you said that, she was the one who almost died!"

"I know and I promise, it's not going to reach her limits this time!"

"No, she is not going to do this again because you know this time she won't stop that easy. You can't just come here when you need it and use her like that!"

"It's not true! You know it's not like that and that I always make sure she is safe !"

"Like you did last time?"

Tony huffed at the last statement and ran a hand over his face. He was tired from the mission and Sam was going to die if he didn't hurry up.

"Please, (Y/F/N)," as Tony was pleading, he shifted to the right so your father could see Sam being held by Steve and Bucky. "He needs her help...he needs your help." Tony finished with a sigh. (Y/F/N) looked up to the night sky, annoyed and sighed. 

"Fine." He finally said. At those words, the whole team was relieved, even though they still didn't know what that meant. (Y/F/N) led the team inside the house. He put the pillows from the two couches on the dining table before instructing Bucky and Steve to lay Sam down on it. The two executed themselves gently, not to hurt him even more. (Y/F/N) and Tony went up the stairs, leaving them a few minutes.

You were being woken up by gentle shakes and a hand passing through your hair. You opened your eyes, your mind still clouded with sleep. Your father was standing above you, a sad smile on his lips.

"Dad? Is everything okay?" You worried with a groggy voice. 

"Yeah, don't worry sweetheart." He replied. You frowned at his word, clearly sensing that something was wrong. You sat up against your headboard, rubbing off the sleep in your eyes.

"What's going on?" You insisted. Instead of answering, your father looked behind him. Your eyes widened at the sight of Tony entering your room.

"Hi kiddo," Tony said with a small smile. In return, you gave him a wide smile and got off your bed to hug him. 

"I missed you," you said, your voice muffled by Tony's shirt.

"I missed you too," Tony replied. You couldn't see his painful expression from what he was about to ask you."I need your help, sweetheart."

Your eyes slowly opened and you silently sighed. You detached yourself from his embrace and looked in his eyes. When you saw the sorry and fearful look in his eyes, you gave him a small and reassuring smile. 

"Okay." You said. You heard your father sighed behind you. You knew he thought it was too dangerous but how could you let people die when you had the power to save them. Of course, your father agreed with that but what he didn't agree with was what it cost you.

The Team lifted their eyes from Sam to the staircase as they heard people coming down. Bucky's eyes focused on you the minute you got into his visual field. He didn't even notice everyone taking a step back as you approached Sam's body. 

"Buck" Steve whispered to get his attention. As Bucky was about to take a step back too, he was softly stopped by a hand on his metal arm. You didn't flinch at the feeling though.

"You can stay if you want. It'll be nice for him to see a familiar face when he wakes up." You said smiling. You took your hand off of his arm and gave all your attention to Sam. Bucky did as you said and stayed by Sam's side.

You quickly looked at all his injuries, keeping in mind the most important ones. Tony went by your side before you could start.

"Just heal the most important, don't drain yourself, please..." He whispered in your ears. You didn't give him a sign that you had heard him, even though you had. Tony left the room with your father, the two of them far too anxious for the same and different reasons. 

Nat, Bruce, Clint, Wanda and Vision sat down on the couches, exhausted by everything but wanting to keep an eye on what was going on with Sam while Bucky and Steve stayed by his side. 

You closed your eyes to focus and gather the energy you needed to heal the man before you. You were what was called a healer. You could heal, with the energy flowing through your body, anything and anyone you wanted. As it was not in your blood, you were sad at first not to be able to give a cure to the deadliest diseases in this world. But you tried for a while to go on hospital journeys to heal as many people as you could. That's when you understood that this energy in you was not infinite. You had fainted trying to heal a little girl sick with a brain tumour. Some diseases or wounds took way too much energy from you. That's when you met Tony. He was the one to tell you that without this energy you could die and that you would need training to use it to its full capacity. It took less and less time for you to recover from healing someone, your energy regenerating faster. You had succeeded a few years ago to heal this little girl thanks to the training Tony gave you. He was the only one, except for your parents, to know about your powers.

Bucky was fascinated by the scene that was unfolding before him. Your entire being was emanating this yellow and orange energy like flames engulfing your form. Your eyes turned completely white as your hands started to roam Sam's body. At the contact of your energy, bucky saw Sam's wounds close themselves and his skin not sporting a single scar. Bucky continued to admire your work alternating between your face, your hands and Sam. He was pulled back into reality as your warm energy suddenly died down and Sam's jerking up into a sitting position, awake.

"Welcome back, birdie," Bucky said, smiling widely.

"Yeah yeah, I couldn't leave without annoying you some more Elsa," Sam said, trying to get his breath under control. Bucky smiled at his sassy behaviour. Soon enough The avengers had gathered around Sam to ask about how he was feeling. Bucky was the only one to notice you leaving upstairs. 

You felt more than tired after healing that man, Sam. His wounds were deeper than you thought and you hadn't prepared to use this much energy. You discreetly made your way back to your room, leaving them reuniting. It was always overwhelming for you to see a family come together after you healed someone. It reminded you that this power was a gift to give love and happiness in people's lives. You were startled by a knock on your door. When you turned toward the noise, you saw the man from earlier that was standing by Sam.

"Hi," He said, hesitantly taking a step into your bedroom.

"Hi," You responded, looking down at your hands. You couldn't deny that he was a little bit intimidating and the fact that you had felt a metal arm earlier wasn't exactly reassuring. But if your father let him in, it must have meant that he trusted him so you didn't feel scared or threatened.

"I wanted to say thank you for what you did. I'm Bucky, by the way."

"Your welcome Bucky, I'm glad I could help your friend." You responded with a timid smile. When he took another step forward you could feel your chest become heavy.

"You didn't only help Sam back there." He took another step. He was three steps away from you now. "But everyone downstairs." Another step. You couldn't tear your eyes off him. Those blue/grey eyes held so much intensity that it was hard to look anywhere else. Bucky was also sensing this tension in the room. Breathing became much harder and he felt very hot suddenly. He gulped down when you licked your suddenly dry lips. You should have brought up a cup of water. 

"Well, it was my pleasure Bucky." you breathed out.

"You never told be your name," he stated, taking a step forward.

"(Y/N)"

He said it again as if tasting the sound of it in his mouth. The second he said it, you couldn't help your energy from coming out of your body and engulfing your frame. Bucky didn't even budge, but instead took a last step forward reaching his flesh hand out. The second his hand touched your halo of energy, it was like you had been shocked. He pulled back immediately, afraid he had hurt you. Your energy died down then.

"Wow" was all you said. 

"Are you okay?" He asked, still worried.

"Yeah," you let out a small chuckle. "I've never felt better actually. It's like...it's like you gave me all the energy I've ever spent back." You stated confuse at your own words. Bucky didn't say anything after that, he seemed to be thinking about something. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it. You could see what he wanted to do, his hand twitching at his side. This time, it was you who took a step forward and reach for his hand. When you touched nothing happened. You looked up to Bucky to find him already staring at you. 

"Your eyes," He said. You turned your head to look at your reflection in the mirror on your wall. Your eyes were white, exactly like when you were summoning your powers. 

"What's happening?" Bucky asked you, making you look at him again. 

"I'm not sure." You answered. "When I was younger and my powers started to surface, Tony sent me to this witch in the south to help me figure out myself and what I wanted to do now. She was my spiritual guide for 3 years and taught me everything I needed to know about this gift and how to control it. She said I was a Healer. Someone that has a great power of healing anything alive. But she said that I could also if I learned how to take someone's life and turn it into energy that I would take for my regeneration or simply for more power. But to every great power comes a weakness. Someone was made to counterstrike my power. This, someone, was made to be my antithesis to stop me from being consumed by my power or accumulating too much."

"So... what you're saying is...I'm your antithesis?"

"I mean I don't know for sure but with what happened I wouldn't be surprised." You answered sheepishly.

"Your eyes went back to normal," Bucky informed you. You gazed some more into each other eyes until Bucky broke the silence.

"How about we go on a witch hunt?"

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fic #bucky x you #the winter soldier #winter soldier #winter soldier fanfic #the winter solider fanfiction #fanfiction #Sebastian Stan #bucky barnes x reader

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Happy Birthday, Tony Stark

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: ~11k Notes: Tony’s birthday is an important holiday in my life - so I decided to celebrate with this cute little fic. @stark-bb supplied the beauty for the end & I’m really happy with the way it turned out. Happy Birthday, Tony - this is how 50 should have gone for you!  Warnings: endgame fix-it (kind of), NSFW stuff, hurt/comfort, insecure!Tony Summary: 

It's Tony Stark's birthday - which means there's tons of reasons to celebrate. Check out his relationship with Peter over the course of two birthday's.

For his 50th, Peter goes all out - but is it really the night that Tony wanted?

Or, the one where Peter plans a party and all Tony wants is his love instead.

Read it on A03 here

In retrospect, after Thanos, actually getting to 50 was a miraculous thing.

It took him and Bruce 6 months to figure out how to bring everyone back after the snap. The easiest part of it all was going back in time to collect all of the stones – despite a couple of little hiccups, the job was well done. The gauntlet Tony constructed could easily be coined as one of his greatest technological masterpieces – and when Cara Danvers came back looking for Nick Fury, their answer to who would yield it was nicely answered.

There wasn’t much time between the stones being used and the gauntlet being stolen right out from under their grasp. With the total annihilation of Avenger’s tower, it didn’t seem all that surprising that they were all of the sudden looking down into the abyss of a full-on war. There were so many of Thanos’ troops that for the first little bit of the battle – it didn’t seem like they were going to get anywhere close to winning.

Then, the portals opened up and every single person Tony could remember ever hearing about or seeing stepped through. His eyes caught and kept Peter’s when Cara pulled him out of the ditch with the gauntlet held tightly in his arms. There were so many other things that were important in that moment – the world was on the cusp of decimation once again – yet, he couldn’t break the eye contact. He didn’t want to.

Pulling Peter into his arms the second he could felt like the most natural thing in the world – when the kid dusted in them not that long ago, the world felt a little less special. Now, the scale shifted back to normal. The picture of him and Peter they took when he put together his ‘internship’ was one of the biggest catalysts in his adamancy in figuring out how to solve the time travel issue and put things back to right.

He didn’t plan to press the kiss against his cheek – the adrenaline of battle and finally succeeding made it easy to override the thinking portion of his choice of actions. Peter melted into him and it suddenly felt more than okay. The mumbled “this is nice” drove home the point and Tony let himself have that – the embrace, the comfort, even the solace that came from having Peter back again.

The rage of battle swept them away from each other and for a while, Tony was focused on being the perfect distraction for Cara – her final move of sweeping and engaging just enough to get the stones off of Thanos and onto the gauntlet the single greatest in Avenger history. Watching Thanos drift away into nothingness felt more satisfying than Tony cared to admit – and when he fell to his knees, it was from being overwhelmed that maybe, just maybe, they saved the world for good.

Aftermath in the face of a tragedy that only half of the population remembered was a little weird. It took a lot of explaining to the ones they lost for everyone to make sense of the missing time – of the life that got put on hold because of a crazy vendetta. Tony tried hard to document the progress he and Bruce made through the construction of the time machine and their ideas about the stones so he could explain to anyone that asked. Though – it was unsurprising that Peter was the only one that even wanted to know.

So – Tony explained it to him. They talked through the schematics he initially drew up when solving the irregular blip that Bruce initially couldn’t. Peter’s questions were educated and the things he inferred before Tony could tell him were some that even Bruce did not conclude. He can’t help but be impressed by the kid’s true intelligence. Tony spent so much time trying to protect him, he never took the time to pay the closet attention to him as a person – to the extremely smart and talented individually Peter absolutely was.

In the end, the boy left with a much clearer understanding of the ins and outs of the journey to get him back. It appeased him a grand total of two days before Peter came knocking again. His excuse didn’t seem nearly as sound this time. He kept listening for May to come through the door even though he knew she was working the overnight shift – Tony could see it for what it was, a plea for distraction, for the company of another human being that wasn’t going to ask questions or wonder out loud about things that shouldn’t be spoken about ever again.

It quickly became a routine between them – Peter showing up later into the night with a feeble excuse to come in and spend time with Tony. Tony didn’t spend any time pretending, though – each time it happened, he opened the door and let Peter come in without worrying about the muttered excuse thrown his way.

Dealing with shit was a personal thing, the understanding of that was something Tony knew very intimately.

His own special way of dealing pulled him away from Pepper – their relationship crumbling at the seams when Tony refused to give up the suit. After everything, he felt it to be too big of a compromise – he loved her, but some things were bigger than ultimatums and their inevitable consequences. Losing half of the population made that pretty clear.

And though Tony hated to admit it, he came to rely on the kid’s presence – their late night tv binges one of the only things that chased the nightmares away. Despite seeing him on an almost daily basis now, Tony still dreamt about the way Peter faded from his arms, the impossible to hold feeling of dust running through his hands the worst part of it all. He figured they would stop when the world started to spin the right way again – yet, he couldn’t escape them. It took a lot more brain bytes than he originally thought to push away the few reasons he could come up with as to why that actually was.

No matter how much he didn’t want to think about it, letting Peter in all of those nights ago set the course for them. Tony couldn’t deny that he learned to heal a little more every single time Peter came through the door – the ease in their conversation slowly but surely becoming something that Tony couldn’t live without. They forged a closeness with every night that past – one that Tony quickly had to put in a safe category. There were so many times he found himself wanting to reach across the couch and grip Peter’s hand in his own. So quickly, Peter became a steady source of comfort.

Sooner rather than later, the Avengers were suiting back up – the idea of instituting regular rounds and patrolling schedules winning without question when Steve brought it up. If they were going to deal with entities like Thanos ever again, the need to be better prepared reigned supreme. Luckily, the rest of the group recognized his and Peter’s familiarity and always paired them up. It felt nice to work with him and Tony absorbed every single second of it. They were constantly learning together and when the time came to actually fight, they’d be prepared – some of their tag team moves way more than enough to truly debilitate an opponent.

Of course, being patrol partners meant dealing with the times that things turned to shit. Though there weren’t big time things forcing all of the Avenger’s to assemble, they still dealt with things that were dangerous. Peter, no matter how many times Tony shouted at him about keeping it on the safer side, refused to ignore intuition – even if it led him astray nine times out of ten. It was extremely frustrating, and the only downfall Tony could find with being back to saving the world so soon after the last time.

Things got interesting when Peter almost died taking down Mysterio. It took them a few minutes longer than they expected to get across the pond and into a position where they could help – so Peter handled a lot of it on his own. Tony was glad they spent all the time they did training – some of the moves Friday showed him were truly impressive and genuinely lifesaving. It felt shitty to find Peter broken and bloody – there was no mistaking the pure intensity of the battle that raged before him.

Tony pushed aside all of his personal feelings and helped solve the problem – the best thing he could do for Peter was get things under control, there wouldn’t be any need for the younger man to have to fight so hard after that. It took the two of them and some well-planned drop-ins from Steve and Natasha to put everything to rest. When things were finally over, Peter slumped over against Tony and howled, the tears just as much from frustration as exhaustion and pain. He didn’t let Tony detach the entire time Dr. Cho took a look at him – he stayed by his side and talked him through what happened – tried to keep him calm when a bone was reset and his body temperature worked off the sedative before it could actually numb anything.

It felt hard to separate Peter from the thoughts of caring, and protection, and on the weakest of days – love. He figured the idea of being a father figure wouldn’t be too bad. Tony wanted to believe that Peter leaned on him the way he would May or Happy. There were signs, though – signs that said the younger man’s feelings were way deeper than either wanted to think about at the moment. For the sake of allowing independence and growth, Tony didn’t pursue the obvious.

That mindset didn’t last very long  – Peter had a way of being pretty persuasive. His 49th birthday crept toward them without anyone really noticing. Everyone was trying to figure out what post-Thanos meant – and the simplicity of a birthday didn’t seem to be on the forefront of people’s minds. It didn’t matter, anyway – the older he got, the more meaningless birthdays seemed to be. The world continued to spin and need protecting and want things regardless of birthdays.

When the day came, it surprised him to see candles sticking out of a big pile of Belgian waffles that morning – a smiling Peter and Bruce carrying the plate over to him. He shook his head and blew out the candles, the cheesiness of it just that – cheesy – but also very thoughtful and way more than he wanted or imagined. The waffles tasted just a little bit better that morning, too – which was quite the feat, because Tony loved waffles; absolutely fucking loved them.

The rest of the day past in a haze of bowling in the alley in the SI building, eating disgustingly shitty food, and good company. Bruce begged out after the third game and left Peter and Tony alone to duke out games four and five. Peter’s incredible strength worked against him in the end, Tony grabbed both the games and the overall win count for the day. It wouldn’t have hurt his feelings if Peter let him win, either – it felt good to feel good for once.

Heading back to the penthouse, Tony wasn’t surprised when Peter followed him up. From the beginning, Tony made sure to keep May in the loop – and at this point, as long as Peter was somewhere safe, she didn’t seem to mind. Peter probably took more advantage of that little giving piece of her, but Tony wasn’t one to complain when it benefitted him just as much. He watched the kid go straight to the fridge, the massive quantity of junk food they consumed just hours earlier obviously not enough.

“What do you want to do for dinner, Tony? Your fridge is kind of empty,” Peter said after a couple of minutes of leaning over and looking, then stepping away – like if he looked enough times, things would show up eventually. Grinning, Tony sank into one of the stools tucked into the kitchen island, his fingers knitting together.

“I hadn’t thought about it – I’ve eaten more today than I usually do in a week. Want me to order something? I bet we can get that Vietnamese place you like to deliver out here,” Tony mumbled in reply. He brought a finger to his glasses and tapped into Friday’s interface. “Can you order the usual, doll?”

Peter stood on the other side of the island across from him, his cheeks flushed. “You didn’t have to do that. I found an egg in there,” he remarked, his thumb hiking over his shoulder towards the fridge. “It’s your birthday – we should be doing what you want.” Peter tried for a serious look in his direction but failed at the last second – the soft ‘for Tony’ smile he’d come to be very familiar with over the last few months spreading across his lips. He leaned down onto his forearms, the two of them closer than ever now.

“We’ve done enough, Pete. Let me be an old man for the rest of the night, huh? Besides, we’re almost done with The Sopranos – I’m ready to see how it all ends.” Tony wasn’t lying, either – there wasn’t anything else he’d rather do. The thought of getting dressed to go out or partying the night away made his head spin. After all of the bull shit of the life he led, sitting around with takeout and good company didn’t seem all that bad.

The boy seemed to understand, the softness in his eyes answer enough. He shrugged his shoulders and pushed away from the island – Tony watched as he went over to the bar on the other side of the room and grabbed a small rock glass. Without much effort, he poured two fingers worth of whiskey into it and walked back across the room, the glass being passed to Tony before he could even understand what happened.

“You’re going to need that, then,” Peter finally uttered, his face breaking out into a smile. Tony watched the grin grow and internally documented all of the lines and grooves that played across the boy’s face. Peter must have noticed because his smile grew a little bigger. “Want to go hangout in the lab until the food gets here?” The question was shy, despite what felt like millions of hours they spent there together already.

Slamming back the liquid in the glass, Tony let the burn clear his head – his mind in all sorts of places it probably shouldn’t be. He caught Peter’s eye and nodded, his own grin slipping across reluctant lips. “It’s funny that you even need to ask.” Tony got up then, his neck swiveling to crack the stiff joints. “Shall we?” he asked, his head tilting when Peter didn’t move or even say anything.

He didn’t expect the clumsy hands Peter answered with, the boy grabbing his hips a little too tight, the strength in his arms bringing Tony against his chest. Tony let out a breath, his secret wants and desires coming to life before him – his brain shortcutting with the responsible thoughts that tried to break through the haze. His arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders on their own accord, Tony losing the fight against himself with every passing second.

“Pete – “ Tony tried, his arms opposing his words, the muscles in his shoulders, chest, and biceps tensing and clenching, every fiber of his being wanting to be that much closer. Peter tilting his head until they were looking eye to eye stopped him in his tracks, though – the boy’s eyes bright with many things unreadable, except for one. Slamming his own shut, Tony pulled in a long breath, the look too much.

Then, lips were on his, and all thoughts ceased to exist for the few seconds that clumsiness turned into the hottest thing he’d ever felt. Peter’s hands moved from his hips to frame his face, the tightness of them bringing their lips closer together – Tony tilting his head at the very last second to stop their noses from colliding painfully. He sunk into it and forgot for a second what he needed to do when they broke apart.

The soft moan leaving Peter’s lips when the kiss broke made him press back in for another couple of chaste pecks – Tony hoping more than anything that it was enough to engrain the taste of Peter onto the surface of his skin. Dipping his head, Tony pressed their foreheads together, his eyes closing.

“You figured out what I really wanted,” Tony whispered, a laugh leaving his lips at the sound of the words in his own ears. Up until that point, he hadn’t allowed himself to even think like that. With Peter in his arms – it was easy, though. Like their embrace on the battlefield, Tony couldn’t help what his lips did this close to Peter’s person.

“You’re just a couple months too early,” he managed to get out, the few seconds of hesitation before doing so just enough to soak this intimacy in a little bit longer. “You know we have to wait.” Peter’s head became a little heavier against his own for a second, then he felt the slightest of nods – the boy way smarter than Tony ever gave him credit for. Pulling back, he put a bit of space between them, the only point of contact now his hand on Peter’s cheek.

While his thumb brushed the sharp bone there, Peter leaned into the touch – his eyes shut, the storm inside them kept under control by the lids covering them. Tony let himself look his fill until Peter was the one pulling away – the saddest little smile on his lips. “I know – I just – I couldn’t wait. I – Tony, you’re everything.” The words were earnest and if this were anyone else, he wouldn’t have even given thought to believing him. Peter constantly showed how much respect he deserved, so Tony gave it to him.

“Save that for later, okay? We’ll make your 18th one to remember.”

“Okay. Happy birthday, Mr. Stark.”

----

And boy did they – even a year later, Tony can still remember the entire day they turned into a week rather vividly.

He told Peter to pack a bag and let May know they were staying in the city for the week. For the first time in almost two months, Tony was finally letting him stay over again. He knew if he gave either of them any opportunity to give into temptation, they would – and this seemed like too important of a thing to screw up before it could officially be a thing. He didn’t want to give anyone – including the person who trusted Tony to be a good part of Peter’s life – the ability to question anything between them.

The second Peter walked through the door; the boy was on him – Tony barely able to get his glasses off his face before they were kissing. It didn’t make it past the necking stage, of course – Tony had too many plans to lose his shit on the couch in his front room – but it was nice to finally let himself touch and feel, to give into the want that so obviously coursed through them both. He let Peter squirm against him until he let out a satisfied huff and finally came up for air. “Happy birthday, Petey,” Tony mumbled against his forehead.

Coney Island took up the rest of the day – Tony laughing and smiling harder than he could remember, especially since Thanos. The ride on the Cyclone threw them into each other and when they got off, Tony wrapped Peter in his arm and steered them back towards the line, the two of them riding the coaster two more times before moving on. Peter insisted they finish the day at the aquarium – the boy totally obsessed with the penguins and otters.

When they got back to the penthouse, Tony led Peter into the bedroom, straight past the bed, and into the attached bathroom. He pushed him down until he was sitting on the edge of the tub and went about putting the necessary stuff for a bath in it. While the water ran, Tony took Peter’s clothes off one article at a time, his lips following behind caressing the newly exposed skin. Getting down to his boxers, Tony had him stand up and pulled them very slowly down Peter’s legs, the tips of his fingers tracing the same path as the fabric.

He stayed on his knees and lavished the skin on the inside of Peter’s left knee, then nosed his way up his right thigh – his lips landing on his hip, eyes looking up. “Get in the tub,” he mumbled, his eyebrows raising in invitation. Peter didn’t waste any time complying with the request – a soft sigh leaving his lips when he sank into the warm water.

Stepping back, Tony started the actual part of the bath that was for Peter. He slipped the buttons out of the slots on the vest he was wearing and let it hit the ground. The shirt came next, his fingers slow in the way they moved from one button to the next. A light shimmy had the button down flowing off his shoulders to join the vest on the floor. Kicking off his shoes, he hobbled about for a second to get the socks off – then straightened back out with sexiness written on his face once again.

Peter’s eyes were glued to his every move, Tony happy to see red trail down his cheeks, neck, and onto his chest with each new piece of clothing that came off. The boy was fisting himself under the water, Tony could tell by the wave and ripple of it. Tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, Tony made quick work of his belt and the button on his slacks, the pants falling without much effort after that. His black boxer briefs stayed on for a second, Tony taking a couple of steps closer to the tub until he could lean down and press a kiss against Peter’s lips.

While they kissed, Tony pulled his underwear off, a little groan slipping out between them when his erection finally hit the coolness of the air around them. “Shift forward a little, babe,” Tony muttered, his body sinking easily into the water with the newly made space. Peter moved back and settled between his legs without any prompting, Tony’s chest now toasty from the combination of water and the boy’s warm skin. Wrapping his arms around him, Tony pulled him even further back – his cock trapped perfectly between his own stomach and Peter’s back.

Touching his lips to Peter’s neck, Tony let himself relax into the warm water and the sound embrace – the boy in front of him doing the same thing if the sagging weight against his chest was anything to go by. “Did you have a good birthday?” he spoke the words right beside Peter’s ear – the gust of breath having the desired effect as goosebumps launched themselves across his skin.

His head fell back against Tony’s shoulder, Peter’s hands moving until they were gripping the older man’s across his stomach. “It’s been great. This is the best part, though – finally getting to spend this kind of time with you.” It was obvious Peter meant each of those words, too; his voice took on such authentic tone when he was talking to Tony. “I love you, Tony. I have for a while.”

Though he suspected, Tony didn’t think he would hear those words for a long time. He forgot how mature Peter could be when he really put his mind to things. Tony moved his arms until he could cup Peter’s cheek, the boy shifting a little bit to look over his shoulder – their eyes meeting. “I love you too, Pete. I’m the worst possible choice for you, but I’m also incessantly selfish. You can have whatever you want from me.” Tony capped his words off with a soft kiss, his lips lingering just because they could.

“I just want you, Tony. I thought for a long time that I wanted to save the world, be a hero – and yeah, I still want that – but I want this, too. Simplicity. Your arms around me. I’m young, I know – I also know what I want, so don’t try and talk me out of it.” Peter practically huffed out, his last couple of words sounding a bit petulant. They made Tony’s heart jolt, regardless – the weight of them surprisingly heavy.

Who was he to dictate any of that part of Peter’s life? Tony did lots of questionable things in his youth – more than a few of them without thinking about it as thoroughly as Peter seemed to. There were no regrets in the pacing of their relationship and how very natural it occurred, so what was there to really hold him back? There were times Tony was selfish about much lesser things and at this point in his life, why hold now? Smiling to himself, Tony relaxed even further into the porcelain of the tub.

“I’m not going to try and talk you out of anything. It might suck for a little while – telling everyone and explaining ourselves, but I’m with you.”

That was about a year ago and while Tony was right – it was a hassle to constantly answer questions and defend a thing that felt so natural to them – things were also too good to really be that upset about it. They went about telling the team first, these people fought with them on a constant basis and needed to understand the decision they made. It took a bit of talking Steve from the tizzy he spun up and a few well placed “I know exactly how you feels” to get everyone to calm down enough to talk to Peter about it.

The old guy of the group grabbed Peter’s shoulder, Steve’s eyes seemingly trying to stare right into his soul. “He’s old, Pete,” Steve started – the rest of the group breaking out into varying degrees of laughter around them. Tony prickled for a second, his pride a little hurt from the implication – but what could he really do? When compared to Peter, he was old – generations older, in fact.

Peter’s hand grabbed Steve’s and dislodged it, usually soft brown eyes serious, his gaze just as sharp. “So are you.” Tony watched him bite into his bottom lip and unsuccessfully trying to stop laughter from bubbling in his chest. “I don’t care. I’m old enough to understand all of your concerns and appreciate them – but I am politely ignoring everything you guys have to say. I want this. He didn’t talk me into it, he didn’t groom me,” Peter stopped then, his eyes trailing over to Rhodey who spoke the traitorous words earlier. “He’s just my person, you know?”

After hearing that, Tony figured no one could stand between them. Not even May – who surprisingly didn’t seem shocked or upset about the situation. She glared at Tony for a long minute, then pulled him into her arms. “If you hurt him, I’ll do the same – got it?” she whispered, the arms “hugging” him tightening ever so slightly.

“Noted,” Tony replied instantly, his hands patting her back lightly. He caught the look Peter and May shared when they pulled away and had to try very hard not to burst out laughing in her face. They were both stubborn, the older man instantly understanding where Peter got it from. Wrapping his arm around Peter, Tony pressed a kiss to the side of his head, the boy relaxing into him.

“The hardest part is over,” he mumbled into Peter’s hair, the hand on his shoulder bringing him more tightly against his chest.

----

Despite being with one of the most caring humans on the planet, Tony’s 50th birthday loomed over him. For whatever reason, it felt like a big one. The age difference between him and Peter never played a part for either of them – yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about how glaring it actually was. Sometimes when he picked Peter up from HIGH SCHOOL, he felt incredibly old – and the closer his birthday got, the more ridiculous it seemed to be picking someone up from secondary school.

He didn’t give a shit about it – not for him, at least. The older person in the scenario always got the better end of the deal. Peter was loving and kind, young to the point where some of the shit he pulled out of his ass to refer to was adorably offensive. No – he didn’t really get what Peter saw in him. At least – lately. Maybe that mid-life crisis was finally sneaking up on him – the idea of that laughable after some of the crazy stuff that went on his life.

In the last couple of weeks, Tony felt some of his self-worth starting to diminish a little bit. Which was literally silly – Peter touched him, kissed him – practically worshipped him on a nightly basis. Feelings weren’t always rational, though. Every time Peter mentioned the big party he was planning for the occasion, Tony felt himself curl in a little bit – his affinity for not hurting Peter seemingly the only thing keeping him from shouting about how little he wanted to attend a party celebrating his old ass.

Peter flourished, though – so he didn’t stop him, not even when his heart started to race when his young boyfriend talked about all of the Avengers and their travel plans to meet at the complex. It was nice that they all wanted to come back and celebrate – he just hated the fact that they were celebrating such a long milestone on Tony’s account. He told himself to grin and bear it, though – it couldn’t possibly be that bad.

And since Peter was really wrapped up in all of the planning, he didn’t get the subtle hints that Tony tried to make. His “maybe it can be just you and me” wasn’t said early enough and when he thought to bring it up – his mind went to all of the plans Peter made; the way his caring, so very loving boyfriend thought every little thing out.

The night of, Tony went through the motions – he donned the suit (because let’s face it, Tony looked damn good in a custom Gucci suit.) The barber Peter paid to come in and clean them up did a good job on his facial hair and the slight trim of the longer strands on the top of his head made him feel the slightest bit better. Whenever Peter caught his eyes in the mirror, Tony could genuinely smile back.

They walked in together hand-in-hand, which Tony still felt a little giddy about. He milled around and did the right amount of small talk – his chest feeling a little warmer with each hug he got from his Avenger family. Tony did all the right things until he found an out, the anxiety that was building starting to clutch at him, the shininess of the night a little too bright for his tastes.

Walking into the lab, Tony breathed a sigh of relief, his muscles unclenching for the first time all night. He slipped off his jacket and got to work on a couple of modifications to the nanotech he was implementing into the suit – the response time still a little slow for his liking. For the first time the entire night, Tony felt the weight lift off of his chest. He got so zoned into what he was doing, he didn’t see Peter walk into the lab – or really acknowledge his presence until a hand was on his shoulder.

“I thought I might find you here. What happened?” His voice was soft – though, Tony also sensed the slightest bit of tension sitting under the surface of those words.

He bought himself some time by swiping across the holoscreen, his work dropping down into the folder to be pulled out at a later time. “It got a little crowded in there.” He mumbled with a shrug, his eyes nowhere near meeting Peter’s. “I got an idea and kind of had to run with it.” That excuse almost as lame as the first one.

Peter’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, the boy’s strength keeping him against his chest – forcing him to give up some attention. “What’s really wrong, though? You’ve been a little off lately.”

So, he did notice. Clenching his eyes shut, Tony gave in a little, his body leaning into Peter, letting the younger man take a bit of his weight. “I’m just old – I didn’t want to celebrate that. But, I didn’t have the heart to say anything.” He felt deflated as the words left his lips – the strain of it finally climbing its way down and off his heart. “I’ve been having a moment and I love the hell out of you for doing what you did. I’ve been doubting why you’d want me and it’s so obvious, isn’t it?” Tony leaned his head against Peter’s, so much defeat within him.

For a man that saved the world, he didn’t feel very strong in that moment. Being in Peter’s arms made him vulnerable and, in that moment, he couldn’t find a way to stop the avalanche tumbling him down the cliff. A couple tears streamed down his cheeks before Tony could even think to stop them. Peter’s thumb was there in an instant, mopping them up without a second thought.

“It is – but that’s okay. I should have noticed – I mean, I did, but I was excited. You did say you wanted it to be just you and me. Can we start that now? I’ve got a pretty decent idea,” Peter whispered, the leverage of his hands on Tony’s face bringing their eyes level. “I love you, Tony – today is about you, not me.” Peter let the words sit between them for a second, the boy giving him time to say no if he really wanted.

Instead of answering, Tony closed the space between them, Peter’s lips warm against his own. Tony gripped the side of Peter’s suit jacket and simply let himself go – the younger man taking control of the kiss without a single problem. Tipping his head to the side, a soft gasp left his mouth when Peter took advantage of the position and started to press his tongue in deeper. The tangle of heat there absolutely delicious.

He felt himself being pushed back, his feet moving on their own accord until the edge of the lab table hit his lower back, another moan leaving his lips. With the kiss broken, Peter put a little bit of space between them and went right for Tony’s belt – his nimble fingers getting the thing undone and his button open within seconds. The innocent Peter from a year ago did not exist – the younger man had no problems pushing his pants and boxer briefs down enough to get access to his cock. Lips wrapping around him pulled a “fuck” from deep within him, his control ticking down to nothing.

“Pete – “ Tony grumbled, his hand camping out on his boyfriend’s shoulder, fingers digging into the suit jacket there. Peter worked him over effortlessly, the boy’s tongue trailing down his length as the swallowed him whole. The tip of his dick hit the back of Peter’s throat time and time again – his hips pressing in that last little inch when the other’s hands reached back and used his ass cheeks to pull him forward. The tears in Peter’s eyes welled, but he pulled him deeper anyway – his mouth stretching obscenely.

The gulping sensation of Peter’s throat restricting against his already pulsing length brought him to the edge embarrassingly quick. He moved his fingers up Peter’s neck into his hair, his grip tight after a particularly delicious suck from the tip of his cock all the way down to the root – Peter’s cute little nose dirtily pressed into the nest of well-trimmed pubes. “Oh god – Pete. I’m going to cum. You’ve got to stop. Pete!” Tony spoke helplessly, his free hand scabbling at the table behind him.

Tossing his head back, Tony felt the snap of too much arousal in his gut – his hips pressing forward totally out of his control. “Pete, fuck!” He let out a series of groans with every hard suck against the head of his cock, Peter obviously very keen on milking him for all that he was worth. Tony forced himself to loosen the grip in Peter’s hair, a soft wince leaving his lips when a couple strands of hair caught between his fingers. Desperate for the feel of those spit slick lips against his own, Tony pulled Peter up off his knees and slammed their mouths together.

“What about you?” Tony mumbled against his lips a couple of minutes later, the taste of himself on Peter’s tongue almost enough to get him ready to go again. His fingers were desperate to get their hands on Peter’s skin – the older man hoping for just a little bit more.

Peter grabbed Tony’s hand and pressed it against the crotch of his pants – the wetness there apparent, the suits pants totally ruined by the mess he made. “I think we should head upstairs and see where the rest of the night takes us.” He grinned and gave Tony another kiss, his hands greedy in the way they helped him get his pants up – in the way he pulled Tony out of the lab and into the elevator.

Surprisingly, Peter didn’t try anything in the elevator – he kept Tony against his chest, arms slung tightly around him. “I love you,” the boy mumbled against the shell of his ear, the ride long enough for the intense zing to cool off a bit – the softness of his words perfect for the moment.

“I love you, too.”

That was just the calm before the storm.

Tony followed with hungry eyes as Peter started to take off his clothes the second they hit the penthouse – his bow tie hitting Tony’s cheek before the older man could process what was even happening. Eyes wide, Tony didn’t hesitate to stay on Peter’s heals and try to touch the newly revealed skin with hungry fingertips.

Getting into the bedroom, Tony expected to find a naked Peter in his bed – instead, the naked man was standing at the edge, an expectant look on his face. “Come here,” he beckoned, his long fingers hypnotizing enough to draw Tony in right away. His feet carried him over there – skintight with excitement of what was to come. “Get on the bed, Tony.” Peter’s grin was too good to ignore, so he complied immediately.

Lithe hands made quick work of his shoes and socks – Tony moving up a little further on the mattress when his feet were bare. Peter continued his exploration by moving to the button on is pants and pulling them and his underwear down his legs without hesitation. Soft fingertips explored the soles of his feet, nails running over the arches. “I love how strong your legs are. You’re not the tallest guy – but you’ve got these legs that carry so much weight.” Tony slammed his eyes closed, his brain not able to take the words and the sight of Peter all at once.

The younger man peppered kisses up his legs, over the ticklish part of his knees and across the long length of his thighs – his skin pebbling with the physical sign of arousal. Peter moved up after that, his fingers getting Tony’s buttons open without much effort – the boy touching the newly exposed skin with reverence – eyes glued to Tony’s. “Your stomach is my favorite. You’re stacked – there’s so much muscle there. And then you’ve got this slight little swell here,” Peter moved his hands to run over the littlest bit of stomach Tony hadn’t been able to get rid of over the years. “Reminds me that you’re human, you know?” He let his tongue swirl across the skin there.

A soft touch to his face had him blinking his eyes open, Peter’s face wide open – the heat there, totally encompassed by the lightness the other was trying so hard to portray. Tony nodded his head then, a little smile playing on his lips. Peter returned it, his exploring fingers moving once against to his chest – his nipples pebbling with their attention. “It’s hard to forget sometimes, too,” Tony whispered, chest coming up off the bed to press into Peter’s touch.

A couple minutes later, Peter urged him to turn over – his teasing touches starting up the second his flesh was on display. The younger man’s fingers pressed into the muscles of his shoulders and back, the touch just as soothing as it was arousing. He made a trail from the back of Tony’s neck down to the valley of his lower back with tongue, teeth, and lips – each nip and lick taking him apart inch by inch.

Stopping at his ass, Peter grabbed a cheek in each of his hands. “This is my favorite, though. You’ve taken to wearing those tight slacks and it’s a total tease. I want to take you apart, but then, I want to see your ass clench and flex in those pants,too. It’s distracting, Tony. And I think you know that.” Peter emphasized each of his words with sharp bites to each round globe – the stimulation of the skin there causing Tony to groan, his muscles clenching.

“I like the way you look at me,” Tony managed to groan out, his hips pressing back to get more of Peter’s touch, anything and everything the younger man could give him. Peter rewarded him with another stinging bite on the meat of his right ass cheek. “Fuck, Pete – “ his words felt a little slurred, each one dripping out with any consent of his own.

“I know – and that’s what makes it hotter. Your ass is kind of forbidden. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve had it over the last year,” Peter drove his point home with a not so subtle yank of Tony’s cheeks apart – the air hitting him cool, a sudden chill rushing over his already tender skin.

Fingers pressing against his hole brought Tony to mere whimpers – Peter was right, he didn’t usually do a lot of time in this position, the vulnerability usually making him uncomfortable. There was something in the way Peter was handling him that made him want to give in and let Peter take and give and bring them both to their fucking knees, though. The other seemed to take his noises as a good sign and got to work.

Despite being 50 years old, Tony never got used to the feeling of a tongue in, around, or up his asshole. A laugh fell from his lips – the feeling their foreign and overwhelming, his gut filling with shame and heat all at once. Peter wasn’t discouraged by anything and went to town – his tongue tracing Tony’s rim before pressing in, the tip absolutely devastating in the way it plunged and caressed. The looser he started to feel, the more Peter doubled his efforts.

Soon, fingers were joining Peter’s tongue, the rhythmic press of blunt fingers and a warm tongue a complete mixture of sensations and stimulus – the feeling absolutely fucking perfect. He didn’t feel old when he gave his cock a little thought – the length was raging, the hardness there throbbing with needy want. It felt good – Peter made him feel good. Groaning at a spectacularly good press of Peter’s fingers, Tony bit into the pillow below him – Peter made him feel so fucking good.

“Pete – I need you to fuck me, please. Show me. Show me how much you want me. Need it – need you, baby.” He couldn’t explain what he said or how he said it or even if it made sense; his brain was running on want, adrenaline, and the dopamine that made being delirious feel like the warmest hug – like it was the most exquisite thing in the entire world. His breaths were coming in pants, Peter’s last few thrusts glancing his prostate deliciously.

He felt the younger man move behind him, the bed shifting with his weight. Tony heard the drawer open and let out a sigh of relief – Peter’s weight draping over him the best feeling of the night. “I’ll take care of you, Tony,” Peter said, the words skating across his skin – Pete’s fingers already working the lube into him, the fingers there not nearly enough.

The party a few floors below them probably heard the loud groan Tony let slip from within him when Peter bottomed out. The stretch of not being all that used to the fullness inside him made all of his limbs break out in what felt like waves of fire – his brain stuck between the pleasure-pain of the feeling. The fact that Peter didn’t give him any time to think about it before bottoming out completely helped and the leering blaze of pain that tried to stick around went straight out the window – the heat in his core pooling once again.

Kisses against his neck and the hands running down his sides relaxed him enough to let Peter move – the younger man’s cock thick, his length the perfect combination of inches and girth. For such a young person, Peter kept amazing control over himself – his strokes long and lazy, the best part coming from the exquisite roll of his hips when bottoming out; his prostate getting a gentle nudge with each one. Tony didn’t do anything other than squirm below him – his mind was everywhere, filled with nothing but the things Peter was doing to him.

“You feel amazing, Tony. Fucking amazing,” Peter babbled, the boy’s strokes picking up without either of them noticing – the pace natural, the steady climb of their love making slowly getting to the ultimate crescendo. “I don’t know how you can do this for as long as you do – I want to cum already. I’m going to coat your insides so that every time you even think about not being enough – you’ll remember the way it felt to have me pulse everything I have so deep inside of you. Fuck. I’m so close – “

Tony shouted – Peter’s words and the increase of pace getting him from hot to completely bothered in no time at all. The other’s weight pressed him against the mattress, every thrust brushing his cock against the soft sheets below him. His eyes were clenched tightly, Tony determined to let his mind and body wander – Peter’s guiding hands the only thing that mattered in that moment. “I love you, Pete,” Tony choked out, his head turning to catch Peter’s glance over his shoulder. When they caught eyes, the look in Peter’s tossed him over the edge – the younger man’s mouthed ‘I love you, too’ way, way, way too much for him to handle.

Peter miraculously held on for another handful of strokes, the younger man keeping his promise – his overused hole clenching with every pulse he could feel. The repeated Tony played in his head like a mantra – Peter’s voice the only one he wanted to hear say his name for the rest of his life.

----

When the immediate fatigue of orgasming within the inch of his life wore off, Tony coerced Peter into the shower – the younger man still covered in sweat and lube. The stayed wrapped around each other trading kisses back and forth – Peter continuing his trend of taking care of Tony; the young man surprisingly thorough in the way he ran his fingers through long locks and scrubbed the dirt, grim, and cum off his skin.

The last couple of hours were exactly what he was looking for – and Tony told Peter so more than a few times between getting out of bed and finishing up in the shower. His boyfriend simply kissed him, the boy obviously not looking for any sort of praise. After all they did for each other, thank you’s were a little meaningless – both men more than capable of expressing their gratitude in many different ways.

Pulling on a pair of sleep pants, Tony got back into bed on Peter’s instruction. The younger man walked out of the room for a couple of minutes – Tony laying back against the mattress, the feeling of contentment lingering in his mind for the first time in a while. There were many things Peter did for him – but this, the never-ending feeling of comfort, that’s what Tony liked the most. Being the 50-year-old man that he was, having a person that could bring him that was the best birthday present Tony hoped to continue to keep on getting.

The snick of Peter’s bare feet on the floor brought him out of his thoughts – the younger man carrying a box with him when Tony sat up to watch him walk back into the room. “I know you said no presents, but I think you’re going to like this one. I only spent money on one part of it – and it wasn’t that much, so don’t be upset, okay? I’m 99% sure you’re going to really like this.” Watching Peter babble about it made up for the fact that his boyfriend once again ignored his wishes (though, the longer they were together, the longer Tony figured Peter did that on purpose – because it was a fun game between them.)

Tony reached out to Peter, his fingers beckoning the younger man into bed. “I won’t be upset – just come sit with me while I open it.” He didn’t care how needy he seemed – today was his birthday and Peter was hell bent on catering to him. Peter didn’t disagree, anyway, he easily slid into the bed next to Tony, the box still in his hands.

“So, I guess I should explain this a little bit before you open it,” Peter started, his fingers playing with the bow on top of the box. “You’re always talking about how you miss everyone – and how it would be a lot easier if you had tangible memories of things. I know you’ve got all the technology in the world and could make that happen if you really wanted to. I mean – you still use Friday to watch me sometimes, you can’t even deny that.” He chuckled then, his face a little red from nervousness – the emotion easily read on his face.

“Anyway – I wanted you to see that people love and miss you, too. That, despite what you might think, the world would not be the same with you and the 50 years you’ve been kicking around it.” Then and only then did Peter let go of the box – his eyes flitting back and forth between Tony and whatever was in the damn thing.

Taking a deep breath, Tony pulled the top off, his head tilting when he saw what looked like a photo album sitting there. He peeked up, but Peter’s eyes were staring at the album in the box, the expression on his face unreadable. Tony took a deep breath and dug in, his curiosity winning out over any other emotion that was vying for his attention.

Opening it, Tony’s breath caught – the cover page was one of the professional photos they got done a couple months ago. The smile on both of their faces was stunning, the love written there obvious. A few of those photos were in frames around the room. In big letters it said, ‘To Tony Stark’ and under the picture the words ‘from the people who love you’ were written there.

He flipped the first page and almost lost it – the collection of him and Rhodey during college making him want to cringe and rush back up to the party all at once. His hair cut during that time of his life wasn’t the greatest – an instant regret for the party in the back look he tried to pull off for a little while washing over him. On the far side of the page, a note was written.

Happy birthday, old man!

When Peter brought this up, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to embarrass the hell out of you. College is where you changed my life and it’ll always be one of my favorite times in life. Thanks for the memories, Tones – I love you, brother.

Rhodey

Tony glanced up, a few tears streaming down his face freely. Peter shook his head, his eyes moving back to the album in Tony’s hands. “You’re just getting started – keep going.”

He didn’t have anything left in him to argue – so he turned the page, his heart warming up a little further. The shots of him and Bruce in the lab were some he’d never seen before. There were a couple of more recent photos in there, too. The combination of Bruce and the Hulk still something that made Tony laugh to this very day – the symbiosis between the two entities just another thing to add to the long list of things that changed over the years.

Tony,

There’s too much to say and not enough space to say it. Learning and progressing and creating with you over the years is why I am the way that I am. We saved the world together, brother – that’s the ultimate bond. Thankful for you and your arrogantly brilliant ass.

Happy birthday, Tony – enjoy it.

Love you,

Bruce

There were so many pages filled to the brim with photos of him with various people – Happy, Pepper, Natasha, Clint, Thor, even Wanda and Vision. They each wrote individual notes and recalled shared memories and little thoughts and blurbs about his progressive old age and the notedly selfless way Tony could care about people. It was overwhelming – each new page eye opening, his perspective of himself and the relationship he had with these people progressively changing. This was how people saw him? He spent so much of his youth having people slander his name – it almost didn’t make sense that people could feel this kind of way about him.

When he got to the last couple of pages, Tony couldn’t stand it – he reached over and pulled Peter to him, his face settling into the safe confines of the other’s neck. “I can’t believe that you did this, baby. It’s – the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” Tony spoke the words so reverently, his entire being still a little bit in awe of what he’d seen – of the kind words that some of the best people he knew wrote about him, each one way more than he ever could have expected.

Peter wrapped his arms around him and held him close – the younger man pressing kisses against his hair and forehead every few moments. “You’re still not done yet,” the younger man reminded him – Tony pulling back to find a soft look on Peter’s face. “I think you might like these last couple the best.”

Suddenly spurred on by Peter’s words, Tony shifted his attention back to the photo album in his hand, eager fingers turning the page to find pictures of himself. The look on his face in every single one of them radiated love and excitement and pure happiness. He didn’t usually like pictures of just him – no matter how much Peter begged, he didn’t even send the man he loved selfies. Yet, he couldn’t peal his eyes away from these. Lifting them, he looked questioningly at Peter. “What are these from, even?”

Chuckling, Peter reached over and let his fingers brush across the ones within reach, the ‘for Tony only’ smile pulling his lips wide. “I took these, actually. When we first started dating, I got into the habit of snapping a picture of you when you looked happy. Then, it became a thing to catch those looks whenever I could. You’d be surprised by the number of pictures I had to choose from.” Peter spoke the words with pride, the creepiness of them not even registering with the younger man. Tony grabbed his hand and pressed a soft kiss to the knuckles – his eyes alight.

“I’m not surprised by anything that you do, Peter Parker. They’re beautiful – I didn’t know I could look like this,” Tony remarked, his voice carrying all of the awe that he felt. It warmed his heart to know that Peter was the one making him look like that – they were good for each other, but it was nice to get a real example of it.

The thought of what could come next had Tony moving on – the apprehension making his fingers tremble as he turned the page. And man did it completely knock the wind from him. The last page was a collection of pictures of him and Peter – some he’d seen before and a few he hadn’t, the candid nature of them making it seem like they were taken by other people. His chin dropped a little, the evidence that Peter felt the same way right there on the page. Some of these pictures were old – a couple of them obviously before they got together.

Reaching over, Tony grabbed Peter’s hands and tangled their fingers together – he would probably need the added strength to read the long note there. Peter’s words always had a way of bringing him to his knees, he doubted this would be any different. The other’s hand gave his a squeeze, Tony diving in the very next second.

Hey you,

When I first started this, I never thought I’d get to learn so much about you. I especially loved your college hairstyle – totally my favorite.

I know there’s not a lot you can give a person that is both a genius and a millionaire – but I figured memories are priceless and the easiest thing I could give  you. Not just memories between you and I, either. We’re just starting our journey.

I guess what I’m trying to say with all of this is – there’s nothing wrong with the years you’ve lived. They have given so many people things that are priceless. Friendship, love, mentorship, knowledge. All of those things are important. You are a manifestation of each one and that is the person I get to love on a daily basis.

Every single one of your years will always matter, Tony. I’m forever grateful that you want to spend the ones you fought so hard to get with me. That’s not something that I take for granted. You teach me things I’ll never be able to learn from anyone else. You care for me in a way that is devoted and careful – like I’m the most precious piece of china you’ve ever been given. And the way you love me, Tony, it’s something that is unexplainable and completely mind-blowing. You give yourself so fiercely – it just takes a little while to truly understand what that means.

You’re my hero, Tony. And I don’t think I’m the only one that feels that way.

I love you.

& I happen to think that’s inevitable.

Happy birthday, Tony

The tears were falling freely now – the day taking a completely different turn than he expected. Between the tenderness, spectacular sex, and this insanely heartfelt gift, Tony was out of his mind with feelings he couldn’t classify. He never liked his birthday. Whether it was a reminder of how lonely he was or a big spectacle for the people that wanted something from him – it never seemed to be the occasion that others could make out of their own special days. Though it didn’t change his opinion about the day in general, Tony wasn’t afraid to admit that the day with Peter by his side was substantially better.

He didn’t hesitate to use both hands to palm Peter’s cheeks and seal their lips together. His wet face made the kiss a little messy – but neither of them seemed to care. Feeling Peter give into it, Tony tilted his head and deepened the kiss, the closeness just right for the situation. “I love you, Pete. This is – I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Leaning their foreheads together, Peter rubbed his nose against Tony’s, his eyes closing as he leaned into the connection between them. “I love you, Tony. I’m going to take care of you for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever then?” Tony asked immediately, the words tumbling out on their own accord.

“Yeah, baby. Forever.” Peter answered, his lips finding Tony’s again.

“Happy birthday, Tony Stark.”

#starker #ironspider #iron man #happy birthday tony stark #peter parker/tony stark #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #endgame fix it #marvel fanfiction #fan fics #ao3 fan fiction #fics #bobbie writes #soft starker #soft tony stark #caring peter parker #happy birthday

[the-irish-mayhem]

Fosterson Fic Rec Masterlist: Oneshots

The Main Reclist has been split to fix the links that tumblr decided to break if there were too many of them in a single post. I’ll be keeping the main reclist updated (even if the links appear broken) as well as maintaining this list and the list for multichapters.

I need help expanding this list! If you have any favorites or fics of your own of your own you don’t see included in this list and you’d like to submit for consideration, please drop me a line.

List updated April 2020. New additions marked with **

Updated during this wild quarantined time, which should serve as a reminder to everyone to APPRECIATE YOUR CONTENT CREATORS! Leave all the comments and kudos to show our love for everything they do. Big thanks to everyone who recommended and/or created content for this amazing ship.

Rated G/K-K+

**Promise by igi_pigi: Thor visits Jane to say goodbye before he leaves for Asgard. Rec: Bittersweet but lovely post-AOU, semi AU pre-Ragnarok. | 1.1k

**Spooky Nights by igi_pigi: "So what is it about?" Thor asks. "Or are we to go in uninformed?"Jane's eyes instinctively flick towards the blank tv screen. Darcy was insistent about it being a horror movie this time - as they serve as "perfect romance fodder", according to the maniac. Jane has decided to go with the recent one, 'The Conjuring'. [Set a few months after Thor2] Rec: Just sweet, dumb, wonderful fluff. Not an ounce of angst to be found. Also Thor learning about Earth is always sweeeeet. | 3.2k

**Stars and Solitude by igi_pigi: It's Jane's first night in Thor's home, however unusual the circumstances. He wishes to show her somewhere. She thinks it's his room. [Set during Thor2] Rec: A nice lil add on, Thor inviting Jane further into his life. | 3.3k

**Can’t Go Back the Same Way You Came by gumbridge: Loki lets go. This is what happens after. (post-film; basically a fixit fic.) Rec: This is pretty Loki-centric, but Jane is fabulously written, the family unit that Loki gets inducted into makes me very happy, and the fosterson is understated but so important and wonderful. | 20k

**spring will come by LadyCharity: As if grieving over the death of her husband wasn't hard enough, Jane has to deal with Thor's angry, bitter, emotionally shot little brother. Rec: This is literally all pain but god it is so good. You can feel the love binding Jane and Loki and Thor and it is so, so well written. Holy shit. | Content Warning: Major Character Death | 12k

the universe in your hand by amonkeysue: For the free day of Fosterson Week 2019, Thor's finally taking the right chance to propose to Jane. Rec: an adorable little bite-sized proposal fic. | <1k

Who Lives, Who Dies by MissChrisDaae: When the dust settles, who is left? Rec: Post-Infinity War, semi-kidfic. Pretty cute, and brings Jane into the story like she should’ve been. | 1.2k

Morning by MissChrisDaae: Thor and Jane's morning is interrupted by their kids. Rec: Fluffy fluffy FLUFFY Jane and Thor with a whole gaggle of children. | <1k

Trending by MissChrisDaae: Jane and Darcy's work session gets a little derailed. Rec: For the Social Media day of Fosterson Week, a fluffy and silly bit, and feeds into the 2012 Avengers Fic nostalgia. | <1k

ever on and on by often_adamanta: Darcy has to correct three separate people at the reception about their relationship, not younger cousin or sister, but college professor and boss and finally best friend. Jane thinks about their surprise, the second glances they give her, and wonders. Rec: Jane deals with the implications of immortality. Her friendship with Darcy is so potent and real in this. | 3k

Before the Thunder Shook Us by niobium: #6, “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” #14, “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.” Rec: This is such a wonderful canon-insertion/canon divergence. Just enough fluff and bittersweetness to seem real. | 1k

Private Jokes by MissChrisDaae: Before his return to Asgard, Thor and Jane have a talk. Two years later, Thor misses a chance and Jane has to carry on. Rec: An AOU coda and a Ragnarok fix-it all in one. Feisty Jane and apologetic Thor. My bbs. | 1k

On the Physics of Magical Space Hammers by shinyopals: ‘So what does it mean to be “Worthy”?’ Jane asked. Jane doesn't mind sharing her life with Mjolnir. She just wishes she understood it a bit better. Rec: We’ve all wondered about Mjolnir and worthiness. Jane finally takes the initiative to find out with amazing results. | 4k

Fives Times Jane and Thor Broke Up and One Time They Didn’t by shinyopals: I didn’t know you were in the country, Jane,’ said Jane's grandmother. ‘Of course, nobody tells me anything.’ ‘It’s just a very last minute thing,’ said Jane, which Thor knew to be a lie. ‘I only arrived yesterday-’ another lie, ‘and I’m just on the way to work and thought I’d stop by and see Mom.’ This too was not true. ‘This is my friend Thor,’ she added, almost casually. ‘He’s been helping me with some work so we’re driving into the university together.’ This seemed the most flagrant of all the lies, but Thor decided not to let it show. It's not always convenient to be a relationship, so sometimes Jane and Thor have to make sacrifices. Rec: A giant SUCK ON THIS FEIGE that takes the “Jane and Thor break up” concept to the best possible places. | 12k

Hours Long and Short by shinyopals: The first night, Thor does not sleep. (Written for a post-TDW prompt for Fosterson Week 2017.) Rec: A really wonderful slice of life fic post-TDW. Deals with their trauma so wonderfully, and includes some lovely soft moments. | 4k

#7Days7Hobbies by shinyopals: Thor wants to try out some of Midgard's finest hobbies and turns to Twitter for suggestions. Jane isn't really sure how this is now her life. (Prompt for Day 4: Domestic, for Fosterson Week 2017.) Rec: One of my favorite things that’s ever been submitted for Fosterson Week. I love reading about Thor fully embracing Earth customs, particularly social media, which opal KNOWS is one of my weaknesses. | 5k

A Question of Honor by shinyopals: ‘Paintball?’ said Steve. ‘We could do… that…’ ‘What is that?’ asked Thor. He nuzzled into Jane’s hair. His mead-breath was giving her a headache. ‘It’s a thing- a game… thing. With paint.’ ‘Rogers, stop explaining stuff to Thor, you’re embarrassing me.’ Tony’s voice was remarkably coherent. Must have been drinking sensibly. Bastard. When it comes to deciding whether Earth or Asgard has better warriors, the stakes are high, and Jane is wishing she'd kept her big mouth shut. Rec: TEAM BUILDING EXERCISES FOR THE WIN. | 8k

The Gift Horse by fartherfaster: Sam and Darcy are formally introduced for the first time. Sam says “formally” with some flexibility. And a couch. A couch and a great deal of flexibility. Nevermind, he’s said enough. They met, is what he’s trying to say. Or, Sam's early days with the whole gang. Rec: Mostly a teamfic from Sam Wilson’s POV, which is awesome because how often do you see that. Fosterson is mostly background, but it made me smile so much. | 3k

on the verge of understanding something extraordinary by dirgewithoutmusic: “Jane, you’re an astrophysicist, not a storm chaser,” said Erik Selvig, and he was wrong. She was just an astrophysicist too. (A Jane Foster character study) Rec: I’m relatively certain I read this before and loved it, only it somehow didn’t make the reclist. An amazing, touching, wonderful, stunning portrait of Jane Foster. | 9k

starlight in her eyes by jdphoenix: “You,” she says, voice strong with accusation. “You’re the one who attacked me!” Thor really must laugh at that. “You are the one who attacked me. Or is it considered polite among stars to crash into one another?” Rec: A really awesome take on a Stardust fusion AU. Full of inquisitive Jane and cocky Thor. It gave me really hard vibes from the first Thor film. | 1.2k

a true lady of Asgard by jdphoenix: It's not uncommon for Jane to fall asleep working when she's chasing a new theory or hunting down evidence but the middle of a battle for the future of Asgard is not the time. Rec: Jane becoming a fixture of sorts in Asgard is one of my kinks. Also Jane being friends with Thor’s friends and the people of Asgard. Kink. | 3.5k

Afterwit by RC_McLachlan: Good with patients, bad with relationships. That's what she told Thor before she ripped the name tag from the shirt in his hands and crumbled it in her palm, relishing the way the sticky back clung to her skin before she threw it in the waste bin. She'd never been so right in her life up to that point—the rightest she's ever been was when she decided to offer the crazy blond guy a ride to his mysterious non-satellite in the desert. Or, the one in which Jane and Thor run into Donald Blake. Rec: I am such a sucker for the “running into the shitty ex with the New and Improved Partner” trope and this is that. All of that to such a wonderful degree. | 2.7k

drabbles by freshexes: Rec: Some really fantastic little bits of prose. Great voices of Thor and Jane. Some fluffies, some angst. | 1k

The Good Times are Killing Me by alwaysaprilia: Rec: Modern royals AU. Jane and Thor are perfect in this. The dialogue is sublime, and the interactions made me squee really hardcore. I only wish there was more. | 3.6k

College AU by anthropologicalhands: Rec: It’s kinda more meta/heacanon, but it’s really adorable. | 1k

all’s fair (in love and war) by sweetwatersong: This is what you fight for. This is what you yearn to feel: this moment, this passing of every second, this rush of life and the indomitable strength of the present. Thor is a warrior, born and bred, and he is glad of any battle - and yet, as with all things, even this can change. Rec: A Thor introspect and a really well done second person perspective. | 1k

Five Times Thor Gets His Shirt Off FOR GREAT JUSTICE And One Time He Doesn’t by shinyopals: Sometimes Thor’s armour is more useful when not being worn by him. He definitely doesn’t end up in these situations on purpose. Rec: Please bury me in every single five times fic shinyopals has written. This one might be my absolute favorite. So many fantastic interactions for Thor, not just with Fosterson (which is BEYOND perfect), but the whole team. Plus: naked Thor fighting bad guys in an apron. Also the SamSteve is so strong and I’m in love. | 9.8k

A Discussion of Hypotheticals by shinyopals: Jane and Thor talk about their future. Hypothetically. Rec: I am so glad we’ve made Fosterson Week a thing because this fic is WONDERFUL. Great communication makes me weak, and also so many squee-worthy moments. | 5k

Jane Foster Versus the Internet. Or: Five Times Jane Allegedly Dated An Avenger And One Time She Apparently Did Not by shinyopals: Jane discovers that the internet is The Worst. Rec: It’s the thing I loved so much I made graphics for it because it’s so good. Jane’s interactions with all the Avengers are delightful, not to mention her steady relationship with Thor that is so grounded and real. It’s also freaking hilarious. | 10.4k

Untitled by polyamoryavengers: Rec: Angst and fluff and Jane comforting Thor. *cartwheels into the sun* | 1k

Sexiest ‘Something’ Alive by Niobium: Tony is bound and determined to make sure a human is awarded the title of Sexiest Man Alive (he even has a solid candidate in mind); Jane just wants media outlets to get their science right. Rec: This is absolutely fantastic. Just the right kind of blend of humor, sweetness, and meta criticism ever. | 7.5k

The Hours Filled by websandwhiskers: Ritual and comradery are basic human needs. Rec: Focus on Jane, not a ton of Thor, but pregnant Jane is always a delight. | 1.7k

First Dates? by hariboo: Jane’s not really sure what her and Thor’s first date is? The party or the barbecue? In end does it matter? Rec: I am not a big fan of high school AUs, but if they float your boat, this is definitely worthwhile. | 1.4k | Part of Let’s Be Young Forever series

Of Car Crashes and Coffee by hariboo: “you bumped my car and I’m so piss- oh wow no you’re hot let’s go for a coffee” au prompt. Exactly what it says on the tin. Rec: This made me giggle. Super duper cute. | 1.3k

Tactile Perception by RC_McLachlan: “The day I met you, I knew you would see me.” Her hands find his face, sliding over his jaw, his cheeks, and she brings their foreheads together. “The day I met you, I hit you with my car. Twice.” Rec: *dies quietly* Teasing and cute story telling and just so many good things. | 2k

Clarke’s Third Law by shinyopals: “Of all the people to knock down the stairs, she would pick the practically-seven-foot-tall son of the Minister for Magic who just happens to be the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.” Jane’s just trying to read every single book in the Hogwarts library in between classes, and she’s not quite sure how Thor happened to her. Rec: I never read Harry Potter but damn it this makes me want to. I just love this. So much. I don’t know how but it happened. I actually really wish there was more? | 3.8k

The Most Daring Prophecies–Dr Jane Foster at TED Talk by Rozilla: A transcript of Jane giving a TED Talk on her experiences of crossing the cosmos, Asgard and her hopes for the future of interstellar travel - as reported on WHIH. Rec: I can’t tell you how badly I wanted this to be real. Fosterson is mentioned a bit, and it makes me smile a lot. | 5.1k

Paradigm Shift by jdphoenix: “Jane’s implementing a ‘new organizational paradigm.’ She does this like once a year, usually when she’s extra stressed. Like after that time your brother messed up NYC.” Rec: cute domestics plus Jane is worthy. | 1.5k

Raging Storm by jdphoenix: Thor knows the moment he touches the hammer that it is not Mjolnir. Rec: A brilliant continuation of Paradigm Shift (above, previously recced) wherein Jane bests Loki and is worthy, plus Jane talking down berserker!Thor. So many of my Fosterson hot buttons. | 4k

Overlap by littlestardust: A moment between Thor and Jane. Alternative summary: Thor is respectful of Jane’s life choices, and also there is cuddling. Rec: Teeny tiny fic, but super cute. | <1k

amazed & confused by tashlae: Dating an alien/god/man who fell from the sky isn’t something to take lightly. Rec: Jane/Darcy centric with lots of talk about fosterson and a kinda sweet moment at the end. | 1k

untitled by ifilovedyouless: jane/thor, modern royals. Rec: Oh my god, the sweetness overload was too much. Also YAS Thor in military uniform. | 1k

Fosterson - dancing by batsonthebrain: Rec: Introspective, sweet, and with a heavy dose of mutual respect. | <1k

Unplanned by hariboo: The first person to hear Jane is pregnant isn’t Thor. It should be, but extenuating circumstances. This happens a lot when it comes to living in Stark Tower. Rec: Very much toeing the crack line. Baby!fic, obviously, plus fabulous Clint, and a semi?redeemed Loki. | 1.2k

clash of the (scientific) titans by anthropologicalhands: Thor brings Tony to meet Jane. Thor admits he probably could have thought it through a little better. Rec: this fic always makes me giggle. Fosterson is mostly background, but the interactions between everyone makes this worth it. | 1k

Through Doors by nayanroo: The Jedi Order knows a good team when they see it, but unfortunately even the best-planned missions always have something go hilariously wrong. That’s when the true strength of any bond is shown. Rec: A Star Wars fusion is always a good idea. The way Jane and Thor play off each other and their bond through the Force is lovely. | 4k

Straight On 'Til Morning by arsenicarcher: Thor and Jane are having a baby. Tony’s conflicted about the whole thing. Rec: Kinda Tony-centric, but I’m always up for a fosterson baby. | 4.4k

hard to keep the rainclouds out by veliseraptor: Rec: A unique view on Thor’s grief and Jane’s struggle to be there for him. Very lovely, very angsty. | 2.1k

Perils of an RPF Life by hariboo: Look, it isn’t that she isn’t excited for Jane, sure she is. But Darcy wonders if Jane ever thinks about that. The fact she’s dating the sexiest E.T. ever. Rec: Darcy’s voice in this is hilarious and touching all at once. Jane and Thor’s caring for each other is so clear and endearing I audibly squeed a few times. | 2k

amazed & confused by tashlae: Dating an alien/god/man who fell from the sky isn’t something to take lightly. Rec: Jane and Darcy friendship is a lot of fun. Jane’s pondering of their relationship seems very characteristic of her. | 1k

On The Unsubtle Nature of Fish Ties by Niobium: Fancy clothes shopping for your alien boyfriend should be easier than this. Or, how Thor got his red velvet jacket. Rec: Fosterson is mostly background, but cute Jane/Darcy/Pepper interaction. | 3.3k

Be Safe by MissChrisDaae: Thor and Jane have a contingency plan for emergencies. Rec: Speculation/AU for Age of Ultron. Baby!fic, and is just so damn cute. | <1k

It All Happens Here by MissChrisDaae: Her very first year of teaching, Jane Foster gets an unusual bonus in the form of one of her students’ extremely attractive father. Single dad and his daughter’s kindergarten teacher au. Rec: super fluffy and just adorable. | 7.5k

Remembrance by Are_you_ever_not_going_to_fall_for_that: Thor and Jane take a walk and come across something that sparks memories. Post The Dark World. Rec: Jane and Thor talk about Loki, and the lack of heavy angst is refreshing. | <1k

Traffic jam by kes: When you’ve been fighting omnicidal aliens and the bureaucracy, a getaway is in order. Unfortunately, flying from A to B isn’t always possible… Rec: domestics. cute domestics EVERYWHERE. | <1k

nothing is ever convenient (except to make things uncomfortable) by anthropologicalhands: After Thor returns, there is still the matter of responding to Richard. Rec: The awkwardness of dealing with Richard made me smile. A very smile inducing fic. | 1.3k

Jane on Top by Rozilla: Jane Foster is asked to lecture at the SHIELD Academy, but she feels her old anxieties and worries begin to creep in- but it’s okay. Darcy has her back, not to mention it appears she has a fan club at the Science and Tech Division of the SHIELD Academy! Rec: An unapologetic Jane-fest, which is my favorite kind of party. Fosterson is background, but very relevant. Darcy is a cool friend. | 4.1k

leave this star crossed world behind by anthropologicalhands: Sif visits Jane with an offering. Rec: Jane/ Sif friendship, and they talk about immortality. Great interactions and insights on fosterson. | 2k

Measured Uncertainties by plushbug: Gap-filler, applying to the 2011 Thor movie. A shot at what might have gone missing from the rooftop scene between Thor and Jane Foster, after his 'rescue’ from the SHIELD base. Fits between “…and Asgard. That’s where I come from.” and “Thank you, Jane." Rec: A good fill for the movies, explains some comic-verse continuties. Curious Jane is a lovely person, and Thor relishes in giving her knowledge. | 4k

halfway between the gutter and the stars by verity: Thor pulls his phone out of his pocket and lifts it above them to capture a picture of the moment, their hair lit by the sun, Jane’s soft smile next to his beaming grin. The Rise filter suits the image perfectly. “I shall title this 'THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE,’” Thor says, typing carefully on the touchscreen. “With the small image of your planet, flanked by sparkling stars." "Well, we abandoned a geocentric model of the galaxy hundreds of years ago,” says Jane. "'THE CENTER OF MY UNIVERSE,’“ Thor says. He amends his caption and selects the options to crosspost from Instagram to Twitter and Facebook. Rec: Okay I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE this. So much. I love the world-building that Avengers + social media allows for. Also, cute Thor and Jane and team stuff plus Neil Degrasse Tyson and George Takei. So much good stuff. | 2.2k

Catalysts by Niobium: Meeting people winds up being a catalyzing event in Jane Foster’s life more often than not. Rec: Well-written Jane, and super supportive boyfriend Thor. I love it when he treats her like a genius. | 2.1k

The Reconstruction of the Mind by Niobium: Jane Foster’s introduction to astronomy doesn’t start with a backyard telescope or a shooting star or the arm of the Milky Way strewn across the nighttime sky, but with an Alexandrine woman named Hypatia. Rec: Jane-centric, and very well done, as per usual with this author. Fosterson is more background, but they have some lovely moments. | 4.6k

Asgardian Cautionary Tales for Young Maidens by Niobium: Jane discovers that Asgardian love stories aren’t exactly romcoms. Rec: Jane and Thor sharing love stories. I audibly squeaked at their cuteness. | 2.3k

the new millennia by hoosierbitch: Thor’s life was measured in centuries, not days. Rec: Post-Dark World, very Thor oriented and introspective. Jane helps him through his grief over Loki. Angst on angst. | 1.1k

the drumming inside her by hariboo: she can feel everyone looking at her, waiting for her to break or give up. they don’t understand. she made a promise too. Rec: oh my god Jane being determined, Thor pining a bit, Heimdall being awesome, and a super sweet reunion. | 1.3k

Starchild by empyrean: One night Jane teaches Thor the basics of Western astronomy, and Thor tries to describe Asgard. Then the Bifröst breaks, and Jane isn’t having that. Rec: Jane and Thor bond over the stars, and Jane doesn’t take it sitting down when the Bifrost breaks. Love the simplicity and the power in this. | 1k

There by Barkour: Jane has found Thor and in the finding, she has gone somewhere she’d never dreamed she’d see. Rec: Jane geeking out over Asgard, plus some really cute banter, and Thor being a gent as always. | 1.9k

Numbers and Lines by Sheeana: Jane Foster visits Avengers headquarters to help install a program she designed, and gets caught up in helping with their latest problem. Rec: Jane and Natasha get some great action together, and the Fosterson is handled well. | 4.9k

Important Meals of the Day by hariboo: or alternatively: Five Breakfasts With Jane and Thor and them feeding their family and friends. Which sometimes lately seem to be the same thing. Rec: domestics! Fluff that makes me want to stay there forever! I love this author’s way of writing fosterson. Also Darcy is so great in this. | 6.2k

Fire in the East by Maat: He finds that there are sweeter things than mead and glory and the fierce bright colors and rich textures of Asgard. Rec: Best Thor-being-on-Earth-longer fic that I’ve read. Short, poignant, sweet, and painful. This is beautifully written and left me wishing this was how the canon story could have gone down. | 1.1k

Few So Generous by galaxysoup: After Odin falls into the Odinsleep, Frigga takes up her husband’s spear and the rule of Asgard. Rec: Jane and Thor from an outside perspective, and a different version of events. Though the focus is not on fosterson outright, it is still a very good fic. | 2.7k

we fall like stars by jadeddiva: All that is left of him now is the extra chair pulled up to her makeshift fire pit, which she never sits in and hasn’t had the heart to move. Jane, and the search for Thor and a greater understanding of herself. Rec: A character study of Jane and how Thor affected her life. Lovely and poignant. Fluid writing style. | 3.1k

Not "Functional” or “Elegant” by Niobium: Jane Foster has worked some bad jobs in her career; working with Stark Industries’ R&D is a vast improvement. Rec: Jane-centric, and gives her a great backstory. She and Thor are adorable as always. The author clearly respects Jane as a scientist, so that shows through a lot, which is amazing. | 1.6k

Jane Foster’s High School Reunion by Niobium: Jane Foster has a high school reunion to go to. Rec: Jane and Thor are adorable. Thor is a gentleman, and Jane gets to laugh in the face of a jerk. Very satisfying. | 5k

Nature and Nurture by nayanroo: What’s better than solving a physics problem that may well get you another Nobel Prize nomination? Having a baby on the same day. Rec: Part of an amazing series (full rec with multichapter fics below) but can be read as a standalone. Featuring pregnant!Jane and adorable and far-too-accurate expectantfather!Thor. The fluff is lovely. Features all of the Avengers with some lovely domestics. | 7.4k | Part of in progress series, The Kingsverse

don’t we all want happy endings? by hariboo: Thor is thinking about Jane, Steve cares (because Steve has Feelings about Lost Lady Loves*), and in the end it’s a team effort. Rec: We get the closure on Thor contacting Jane after the events in New York. Sweet and painful and just lovely. | 3.4k

Legacy by me: A generation later, a budding social scientist tries to figure out Jane and Thor. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. Both Jane and Thor have passed away in this fic. | 2k

Rated T

**Heed the Signs by igi_pigi: Thor wakes up from a nightmare. Is it just a dream, or something more? [Post Thor2, Pre Thor3.] Rec: A heavy, meaningful setup to a Thor 3 that never was. | 4.8k

**Heartless by igi_pigi: Everything reminds her of him, it's funny. Wherever she looks, whatever she thinks of, usually and especially to get her mind off him, will eventually lead to him. [Set the night before Jane's date with Richard in Thor2.] For Day 6 of Fosterson Week - 'things that make you think of them' Rec: A really interesting and fabulous rumination from Jane about Thor’s impact on her life. | 1.4k

**Her Healing Touch by igi_pigi: Jane doesn't really realise that the Aesir are a bit relaxed when it comes to physical hurt. And freaks out over what Thor thinks are just petty bruises of battle. Ending with a little confession from Thor. [Set after Thor2] Rec: A neat take on Asgardian culture, love the way Jane’s care connected to Thor’s past. | 2.5k

**Qeryana by Domenika Marzione (domarzione): Thor and his efforts to live on Midgard, as opposed to just defending it. Rec: Thor’s visceral struggle of living in a culture not his own, but is ultimately still hopeful and positive. | 3k

**First and Foremost, Red by RC_McLachlan: There's a reason Jane and Thor break up. It's not a great one but it's the right one. In the year that follows, Jane carries on, doesn't win a Nobel Prize, defeats Thanos and saves the universe, and finally allows herself to be a little selfish. Rec: YAAAAAS I want ALL the Jane Saves Everything in Infinity War/Endgame fic. ALL OF IT. It’s so satisfying and good. | 9.7k

**Gangráðr, Faðmbyggvir Friggjar by tsukinofaerii: Less than a week before her wedding, Frigga warns Jane of ancient Asgardian rituals she and Thor must undergo before her marriage ceremony. Jane and Thor call on their friends for help as they face what might be the challenge of their lives. Rec: Just an absolute fucking delight from start to finish. Hilarious and amazing. Absolutely the best of the 2012-era Avengers fics. | 19.1k

The Courage of Stars by always_a_queen: Half the universe turns to dust. Thor goes to find the one person who is his whole universe. Thor/Jane Post-Infinity War and during/after Endgame. Spoilers for both movies and Ragnarok. Rec: god this is so heartbreakingly perfect. A wonderful fix it that gives a perfect little taste of what we might’ve had if Jane had been rightfully included in these movies. Jane does pass away at the end of the fic. | Content Warning: Major Character Death | 4.3k

Family Values by shinyopals: ‘It would have been kinder to leave me dead,’ Loki informs her one day. Jane Foster, who’s just revoltingly kissed Thor goodbye, told him she loves him, and called him a disturbing pet name, snorts derisively. ‘He brought you lunch; quit whining,’ she says. Loki isn't sure how he feels about his family, these days. Rec: The best take on Loki ever. His relationship with Jane is fabulous, and the interplay between him, Thor, and Jane is AMAZING. What a freakin treat this fic is. Post-Infinity War AU. | 3k

The Second Law of Thermodynamics by shinyopals: ‘What have you done?’ he asks. He still attempts to sound grave, but with Jane it is hard not to give into smiles.‘Done? I haven’t done, well. I mean. I have done some things. But it’s not bad. I was just curious! And nobody stopped me. I mean, they even welcomed me. So. I didn’t do-’‘Jane,’ he interrupts, laughing and leaning down to plant a kiss on her mouth. ‘You are absurd. I missed you. Tell me.’ Rec: Pardon me while I try to physically scream this fic into existence. It’s perfect. Jane loves science, and Thor loves Jane. Post-Thor 2. | 1.8k

Storm Warning by shinyopals: Then he strides to her and presses a kiss to her lips, taking her face in his hands as he does and holding her close. ‘You planned this?’ he asks. ‘Your morning’s work was not astrophysics, then?’She gives a guilty smile. ‘I wanted to, you know, surprise you.’ Thor gets ~romanced. He kinda likes it. Rec: GOD THE FLUFF. THE. FLUFF. PURE AND GOOD. | 3k

Sakaar by MissChrisDaae: Jane's been stuck on Sakaar for a year and a half. So Asgardians are a welcome sight. Rec: A really original way to get Jane involved in Ragnarok. Jane + science for the win. | 1.3k

Lab by MissChrisDaae: Thor likes spoiling Jane. Rec: For the Jane on Asgard day of Fosterson Week, a short and sweet lil tidbit! | <1k

Domesticity by MissChrisDaae: Little moments around Avengers Tower. Rec: I literally gasped in delight with how much this made me nostalgic for the fluffy Avengers Living in the Tower fics of 2012. | <1k

The Prince(ss) and Me by asoulofstars, MissChrisDaae: Prince Thor of Asgard just wants a little time to feel normal before he has to marry the mysterious Princess Jana of Ameos. So, he runs away from home and enrolls at Harvard University as Donald Blake, where he meets Jane Foster. Jane is clever, kind, and everything he wants, but can never have.Princess Jana of Ameos has spent her whole life studying incognito, getting the best global education possible under the alias of Jane Foster and trying not to think about romance, or the fiancé waiting for her back in Europe. Then Don Blake comes along and throws that plan out the window. Rec: A funky Modern Royals AU. Charming in some nice ways, and I like the slow-building tension. | 17k

Misunderstandings by writerblocked: She looks up at Thor, who grins warmly at her, and looks at their surroundings again. “This isn’t my apartment,” she says. Thor’s grin grows wider. “I know,” he says back. Rec: Newlywed!Fosterson fluff. | 1.8k

Turtures in Aeternum by shinyopals: ‘Legend tells that some unlikely souls are known to pause in their work for reasons of leisure,’ deadpans Thor. ‘History does not say what trials they faced.’ Asgardian science is giving Jane a headache. Thor persuades her to take a break to see some of the sights with him. Rec: Asgardian worldbuilding (literally) via Fosterson field trip. I love everything in this. | 5.5k

Five Times the Bad Guys Interrupted Thor and Jane's Date Night and One Time Tony Freaking Wishes They Had by shinyopals: ‘I have told Steve,’ Thor says to Tony as he’s leaving to go back to his rooms, ‘but I thought I should tell you also. Jane and I plan to institute the ritual of ‘Date Night’.’ As always, Thor sounds like someone’s severely uncool father trying to be hip when he uses any slang invented since the Civil War. Tony's been an Avenger long enough to avoid deliberately tempting fate, even if he doesn't actually believe in fate. The universe is just plain cruel. That's why he knows to be prepared for the worst Hydra can throw at them whenever Thor and Jane make evening plans. Rec: IT’S SO FUDGING CUTE. I CAN’T. IT’S CUTE AND HILARIOUS AND PERFECT AS ALWAYS. | 4.7k

Unexpected Arrival by shinyopals: ‘Jane-’ Thor cut himself off, opening and closing his mouth without managing words. Her name on his lips sounded so familiar; warm and deep and like nothing else mattered. An undercurrent of nerves there that she could still hear after all this time, that she didn’t think anyone else would be able to. She wanted to run to him, bury her face in his neck and jump back in time. Back before the break up - not enough time for each other with the universe in peril. Back before the baby. The baby she still sometimes wondered if she should have terminated to save them both this moment. Rec: The angsty and painfully yearning babyfic that you never knew you needed. | 2k

Steadfast as the Stars Above by jdphoenix: It was not meant to be like this. With him so small and weak, fighting every second to find purchase on a tiny world that spins faster than he can fathom. He wanted to be strong for her. Rec: A fabulous use of the Soulmate AU that completely slots itself perfectly into canon. | 8.3k

too poor for silver, i have a copper tongue by venndaai: “Maybe you don't have the perfect words all the time but, you always have something to say, right? You never have to, have to stop and think about it, and you never stumble over your words or anything.” He squinted at her. “I thought such things simply aspects of Midgardian speech, which you know I am not well versed in.” Jane sighed. “They're not supposed to be.” Rec: A story featuring an explicitly autistic Jane Foster. So wonderfully done. Full of empathy and love and kindness and warmth. | 1.3k

Gift by spikewriter: Jane looked at the brightly colored rug on the floor of the farmhouse in the Hudson Valley they were still moving into. “I like it,” she admitted with a bit more enthusiasm, picturing how her six-year-old self would have run screaming around the room in glee at such a gift. Rec: Some post-TDW fluff with bonus Darcy inclusion. | 1.5k

to candle incandescent as you pass by sweetwatersong: The legacy of King Tristan and the Star Queen Yvaine is not a mere tale in Stormhold, a fantastical portion of the kingdom's history. It lives and breathes in the blood of their descendants, in their long lives and graceful aging, in the ruling King Odin and his son, the Crown Prince Thor… Rec: A Stardust/Huntsman/Thor fusion that isn’t so much a full fic as it is, as the author describes, “a sketch.” Still a really lovely read, a great blend of the films. | 5k

Raiment of The Gods by randomcelt: They say the clothes make the man ... or the god. But sometimes, they do the most for his friends. (Or, a tale of all the times someone else wore Thor's clothes and the adventures necessitating such a development.) Rec: A great Thor character piece. A heavy emphasis on Thor + the team which I love. Runs you through the full gamut of emotions in the best way. | 10k

How to Quantify by Rozilla: It turns out Jane has a personal top ten list of favourite equations - and a nice expanse of hot Norse God to write them on. Rec: Super sweet and also contains the phrase ‘who said science never got you laid’ so. Yep. | 2k

this new bravery by hoosierbitch: For alfadorisawesome, who requested Thor/Jane “about to hook up with someone who doesn’t know.” This is my favorite piece so far. <3 Rec: Incredibly well done Trans Jane Foster. I am such a sucker for open lines of communication between partners, and that’s exactly what this is. Thor is incredibly sweet, and this story establishes his very nonbinary opinions on gender which I LOVE, but he still makes an effort to understand Jane’s experience. I love this fic so much. | 1k

The Hammer and the Ice by grav_ity: In the course of her short and mortal life, the heart of Jane Foster has been twice touched by the sons of Asgard. Rec: I adore AUs where Jane was in the Avengers. This is a short flashfic, but really lovely. | 1k

A Royal Wedding by MissChrisDaae and Science_Thunder_Lightning_Love: After three years, ten months, an alien invasion, a cosmic event, and a baby, Thor and Jane finally make it to the altar. Rec: Ridiculously cute fluffies. | 7.5k | Part of the Convergence series

The Thunder God Job by fuzzy_paint: Jane and Thor are thieves. Rec: Oh lawd, the AU I never knew I needed. Beautiful characterization with a rich world they’re placed in. I only wish it was 200 chapters. | 16.2k

there was a star danced by tosca1390: This is the familiar rhythm of her days; the coffee shop until one pm, five days a week, then class and the lab, then home or the library. Here, in her last year with a future dark ahead of her, she doesn’t see anything to change her ways. Jane and Thor, meeting at a coffee shop. Rec: College/Coffee Shop AU. Bless the AU gods. Sly little Shakespeare references. Thor and Jane being cute, sweet idiots. | 6.2k

Proximity Alarm by fayedartmouth: Thor comes back to Earth. Jane thinks it’s great. Except all the times it isn’t. Rec: It’s a great writing style. Jane and Thor are awkward, adorable, and passionate in a realistic way. Them navigating how to be together is a challenge that not all authors can rise to, so this is a great piece. So much yes. | 13.7

Never So Empty by iwillavengeyou: Thor has traveled the nine realms and seen many things in his centuries of godhood. What could possibly make everything seem so empty? Rec: Wow, just no. This hurts. This is not cool. Ow. Ow. Transcends angst and ends up somewhere much worse. Read if you’re into self-flagellation or are making a reclist. I literally yelled “Wow rude” at the conclusion of this fic. Major Character Death | 1.5k

An Ancient Gesture by Niobium: Jane and Thor come up with a tradition for dealing with situations where a social function gets to be a little too much for either of them. Rec: Super smiley, stomach flutter inducing fic. Fluff upon fluff, but also Asgard culture/worldbuilding! Yay! | 2.8k

Five Times Jane Kinda Sorta Accidentally Slept With An Avenger, The One Time She Didn’t, And the Many (Many) Times It Wasn’t Even a Little Accidental by shinyopals: Some people collect Avengers trading cards. Some collect action figures. Jane Foster, almost entirely without meaning to, has them all beat. Rec: If you’re not convinced by that title and summary, I’m not sure I can help you. Hilarious, in character, and kinda cute. | 9.3k

Well Remembered by Rozilla: Jane’s met Tony Stark before. Rec: Cracky and hilarious. | 1.1k

you may end up wanting more from this life by tosca1390: Everything is cold where it was once warm, and Jane is at a loss. Rec: Not sure why I haven’t put this beautiful thing on here yet. Deals with their separation, and a great character study of Jane. Angsty. | 1.6k

The Hearts of Stars and Thunder by MissChrisDaae, Science_Thunder_Lightning_Love: Rec: A Snow White and the Huntsman/Thor fusion. Really great use of characters, and all of the medieval battles and fosterson abound. | 7.7k

You Get One Phone Call by MissChrisDaae: Following the Battle of Manhattan, Jane gets a phone call. Rec: Post-battle strain, but then suddenly fosterson cuteness hits you like a wrecking ball. | <1k

Abs of Thunder by Unknownnobody32: During a flight on-board Stark’s jet, Jane learns how turbulence, pasta sauce, her Thunder god boyfriend, and his rock hard abs can soon become a recipe for embarrassment all thanks to bad timing. Rec: Takes washboard abs to another level. God, this is just too funny. | 2.1k

London, underground by Maybug: Clint Barton meets some familiar faces and has a very bad day hunting the jotunbeast left behind in London after the convergence. Rec: an awesome outside POV on fosterson, plus badass science Jane and her science assistant Thor, and awesome Clint. | 2.6k | Part of the Fosterson Files series

We have loved the stars to fondly by Maybug: Jane and Thor are up to something on the roof of the Tower. Tony thinks he knows what it is, but doesn’t see why he should be the one to tell them to stop. Rec: Outside POV of fosterson. Basically Thor does cute/dangerous things for Jane’s happiness. | 1.8k | Part of the Fosterson Files series

change places by coffeesuperhero: Jane and Thor get in the way of a Stark experiment. This goes about as well as you might expect. Rec: Body swap madness. So many cute moments though, plus some implied sexytimes with swapped bodies “for science.” So much yes. | 3.1k

Slowly, We Adjust by katsumi: Jane Foster leaves the lab on Friday exhausted, overworked, and petrified that she won’t get the grant proposal for her wormhole experiment finished in time to get funding. So, of course she gets rear-ended, because that’s just the kind of week she’s having. Rec: Protective/Worried Thor is best Thor. Reassuring Jane is best Jane. So much angst/cute. | 1.4k

Put a Ring on It by fuzzy_paint: Jane makes Thor a wedding ring. Rec: What it says on the tin. | 3.9k

The Pretty Birds Have Flown by beanarie: "Jane never pukes, not when she first wakes up, not at any other time of day. She has a cast-iron stomach and wicked stable inner ears, and morning sickness doesn’t stand a chance.“ The one where Thor knocked Jane up that night they chilled on the roof, and offscreen Frigga swore Heimdall to secrecy in the interest of protecting everyone involved. The All-Father’s house has a lot of enemies, okay. Rec: Heartbreaking, fluffy, and feelsy. Batten down the emotional hatches. | 2.2k

Jane Foster and the Impossible Library by Niobium: Jane, Darcy, and Thor find a peculiar library, and their afternoon takes a turn for the bizarre. Rec: This one’s wild from start to finish (I say that lovingly), but as always, Niobium delivers on fantastic characterizations. Not super-duper shippy, but so worth the read. | 12.4k | Part of the Jane Foster Works series

Northern Climes by Tyranusfan: Six months after the Avengers saved New York from the Chitauri invasion, Thor must convince Odin to return him to Earth. Rec: Jane and Thor doing cutesy couple-y things. The author captures well the eager awkwardness of a new couple while remaining true to their characters and story. | 4.3k

nowhere to go but up by anthropologicalhands: It is not uncomfortable, waking up with Thor’s arm draped over her waist, their legs entangled under the sheets. It is inconvenient when she wants to get out of bed or, at the very least, look over last night’s data. Rec: So very fluffy it makes me want to roll in it. Adorably domestic, too. Jane at her scienceing finest. | 2.3k

Late Night Waiting by hariboo: Jane didn’t often get home late. Rec: A very sweet and simple Jane/Thor that makes their relationship seem very grounded and real. Also, it is so sweet it makes my teeth hurt, and then I just want more. | 2.1k

Uru by sheffiesharpe: Thor cannot look after Jane, no matter how he wants to. Hogun offers a solution. Puente Antiguo receives another unexpected visitor. Rec: The author makes a really strange concept work brilliantly. Jane and Thor’s pining is frustrating and well-written, and the writing sizzles with unresolved sexual tension. | 6k

Star-Crossed by websandwhiskers: A vignette taking place during "Avengers”, after shawarma, before Thor returns to Asgard with Loki. Thor and Jane have their reunion, and discuss their future. Rec: Jane is an awesome person, and Thor respects the hell out of her. One of the best portrayals of Jane Foster that I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading. | 1.7k

The Morning After by fuzzy_paint: "I can’t believe we’re doing this,“ Jane says. "Can you believe we’re doing this?" Rec: Even without much in way of dialogue, Jane and Thor’s devotion is plain. We get a little view of domestics, too. | 1.7k

The Observable Universe by Sarea Okelani (sarea): As an astrophysicist, Jane studies the observable universe for work, but in her free time what she likes to study is a bit closer to home. (Or: Jane has a low tolerance for stupidity. Clint and Natasha take exception to being called stupid.) Rec: Not a ton of overt Jane/Thor, and is mostly an outsider POV on Clint/Natasha, but there is lots of team shenanigans and there is definitely a lot of affection for Thor from Jane’s POV. | 10k

Deal by GreenVelvetCurtains: Jane introduces Thor to the great Midgardian tradition of being made to remove your clothing when you lose a hand of poker. Everybody wins! Rec: I got a huge kick out of this one. Toeing the line of becoming crackfic. Oh, how I wish there was a smutty follow up. | 2k

Before the Fall by verily-thor: Jane helps Thor prepare for Ragnarök. Rec: Oh god, if you’re in the mood for some sadness, come on in here. Tragic without being grotesque, stripping it down to the bare emotions, and two people who love each other more than anything. | <1k

top gun is not a movie; it’s a lifestyle by hariboo: jane and thor got that loving feeling. Rec: an AU that is reminiscent of Top Gun, which is a fab movie. Awesome Jane, and adorable Thor. | 2k

A Brief Introduction to Asgardian Dinner Parties by jonesandashes and pentapus:  This is the first Earth-Asgard bonding opportunity since that time Loki punched interstellar relations in the face, twice, and the king and queen of Asgard are here, and they are her boyfriend’s parents. Jane is absolutely not going to get drunk at this party, is the point. Rec: This fic makes you smile, then laugh, then cringe, then do it all over again. | 4.5k

Destiny, Disrupted by me: Loki never sends the Destroyer to Midgard. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. | 3.5k

Rated M (these won’t contain the smuts unless otherwise noted)

**The Teardrop by igi_pigi: Post-Infinity War reunion of Thor and Jane. Forewarning - heavy angst. [Set right after the movie] Rec: Angst, melodrama, and desperation ahoy. Contains some smut | 4.2k

all the best distractions by fuzzypaint: They've found a rhythm when they share Jane's lab, Jane with her science and Thor with his own work, and though it is easy to be distracted by each other, usually they're both very capable of avoiding such things. Usually. Rec: Cunniligus in the lab ;) | Contains smut | 1.8k

Patience and Poker by Rozilla: Jane and Thor sneak off from one of Stark's parties for a quiet chat. Nope, just kidding, hot tub sex. Snarky hot tub sex. Best kind. Rec: What it says on the tin and it’s delightful. | Contains smut | 4k

A Deal with the Duke: An Epilogue by hariboo: Thursdays were busy days around the house, but today was the first day of winter much. Thankfully, the skies were clear, without a hint of storm, but the wind was sharp and bit into his cheeks. He was looking forward to a warm meal and seeing his wife, curling around her in bed for rest of the evening. Rec: Historical romance AU. A nice slice of life bit. Contains minor smut | 2.8k

Ray of Light by evieeden: To Thor, Jane shone brighter than any star in the sky. Advent fic for 18th December. Rec: A sweet, introspective fic from Thor’s POV. | 1.5k

just memories to hold by tosca1390: When the dust and light and smoke clears, the roof of Stark Tower is still intact. Jane can still feel the surge of power in her fingertips, thinks she could hear the songs of Asgard, feel the chill of Jotenheim, as the bridge built itself through Yggdrasil, Thor calling her name across realms. And then, a shadow falls over Jane. Rec: A really, really great post-Avengers reunion fic. Contains some smut | 3.6k

set with the stars by hariboo: jane tries to teach thor earth’s stars. tries, being the operative word. Rec: Jane and Thor getting distracted by each others’ sexy is my favorite thing. Contains some smut | 1.5k

It Could Be Sweet by hariboo: Jane and Thor traverse their last year of high-school. However, they didn’t expect it to be together. Rec: I am not a big fan of high school AUs, but if they float your boat, this is definitely worthwhile. Contains some smut | 7.8k | Part of Let’s Be Young Forever series

Thunder Whispered Low by Niobium: Rec: I love it when Thor talks about his magic, and the bridge that makes between him and Jane. Contains minor smut | 1.5k

Specularity by Niobium: Jane’s bad day improves significantly with a little reflection. Rec: A great slice of life fic, really, really nice interactions. Contains very minor smut | 3k | Part of the Jane Foster Works series

My Blood is Singing by Niobium: Sometimes Thor pushes a storm a little too far. And, sometimes, the storm pushes back. Rec: Jane and Thor at their domestic finest, with some internal angst and the simple comfort found with another person. Contains smut | 2.9k

All my faces are alibis by agirlnamedchuck: Thor is strong and stubborn and she thinks she could be a good king. Maybe even a great one. Besides she’d never seen herself as queen anyways. Rec: Genderswapped Thor. Fosterson is minimal, but amazing insights into Thor’s character. | 6.5k

Leaving On An Airship by Rozilla: To escape to a better life, Jane Foster, maid to a cruel villainous Baron, must leave her lover and disguise herself. But not before one last goodbye. Rec: *cartwheels into the sun* FOSTERSON STEAMPUNK WITH SMUT AND FEELINGS OH GOD SEND HELP. Contains some smut | 2.6k

Unrememberance by letthesongtakeflight: Before he became the Huntsman, he was a prince. Rec: Marvel/Snow White and the Huntsman fusion. Prequel of sorts to SWatH. Angst on angst. Major character death | 1.2k

steal my heart 'til kingdom come by tosca1390: Her eyes stray over reading upon reading; she thinks she can taste the tang of energy and ozone even now, and that strange sense of pine and smoke that she associates with Thor. Rec: AU post-Avengers where Thor goes to visit Jane who has remained in New Mexico. Yay for a great collision of two characters who absolutely did not prepare for any of this. Contains some smut | 2.1k

fingerprints that leave me covered for days by tosca1390: It is not all lost, to be stranded here. Perhaps, he could make something of it. Rec: Another AU in which Thor is on Earth longer in the first movie. Great development for Thor, and the relationship he has with Jane feels very real. | 5.5k

journeys end in lovers’ meeting by tosca1390: Solitary moments in snow; it sounds conducive to rest, to a time of rejuvenation before her research resumes. Rec: A really cute AU based on the movie The Holiday (which I’ve never seen before). Just adorable holiday fluff wherein Thor is human. Contains some smut | 19k

Bound by Medie: It was ironic that his and Loki’s greatest mistakes had led to her. Rec: Some tame bondage featuring dom!Jane. Contains smut | 1.1k

Rated E (these will contain the smuts unless otherwise noted)

**Ambush by orphan_account: Jane isn't into violence, but there's something about those SHIELD debriefings, something primal and raw about hearing how the bad guys got their asses handed to them by the good guys, something that inspires her to act on instinct alone. Rec: If you’ve got a thing for Thor’s armor.... mmmhmmm. | 1.1k

Is This More than You Bargained for Yet by Anshin Archives: Thor and Jane's first go at sex. Jane's expecting Thor to have a cock, and is surprised when he doesn't. It doesn't take her long to adjust. (Pure porn for the excuse of writing Thor with a vagina.) Rec: Genderfluidity and completely accepted queerness for the win. | 2.5k

When Jane Pegged Thor by waldorph: They raise them slutty in Asgard. Rec: What it says on the tin. Pretty damn hot if pegging is up your alley ;). | 1.4k

Practical Magic by Rozilla: Freya’s flowers can do funny things to you. Rec: Roz is the queen of smut so this is amazing. Kind of a play on sex pollen, but takes it in a totally new, refreshing direction. Asgardian sex magic for the win. | 2.8k

built on the old rivers by fartherfaster: You catch her wrist and delicately kiss the bone of it. “Nothing to be sorry for,” you tell her. She composes her reality in absolutes and theories and the true phenomenal names of things. Colloquial language is not her means of communication. You like her hard lines, her curiosity, her determination. Jane would never call Mjolnir just a hammer, and that puts a small, needy part of you to rest. There is a storm in the desert, and Thor comes to terms with all of his changes. The one where human-Thor has Lichtenberg figures. Rec: Incredibly poignant and the author makes a second-person POV work incredibly well. | 3.3k

Tell Me Something New by hariboo: "Compile the data of the reading we took during Convergence. The gravitational–“ She trails off, can’t finish the sentence out loud or in her mind, her voice catching on the words as Thor’s mouth latches onto her throat. Rec: Cute and hot and perfect because smart Jane is Thor’s biggest turn on. | 1.5k

On the Throne by murdur: His insistence that she should sit on the throne had been in jest and merriment, but the sight of her sitting upon the seat now makes his heart beat quick and steals his breath. Rec: Oh my god, Thor goes down on Jane while she sits on the throne of Asgard. I have nothing else to say. *dies* | <1k

Experience Counts for Something by Rozilla: Jane was surprised at Thor’s new female body- but pretty keen to explore it. Rec: Bisexual Jane and Genderfluid Thor are great. Some hot femslash fosterson. | 2.3k

Just Get In The Van by paxnirvana: Written for a prompt on Anenko’s Bad Sex & Awkward Romance: a comment-a-thon that got away from me. Rec: All first time sex is gonna be awkward, friends, even if you’re Jane and Thor. Might as well enjoy the ride. | 6.3k

close your eyes and count to ten by fuzzy_paint: Post battle, Jane and Thor make sure the other still lives. Rec: Reassurance of safety sex is hot. Sue me. Still manages to be angsty too. | 2.4k

We Woke Up In The Kitchen by hariboo: He didn’t think he could miss someone as he missed her, but there is something singular in Jane that pulls at him and threatens to overtake him. Rec: post-TDW sexies that are adorable and awkward and hot all at once, plus some really nice conversation at the end. This author just really gets Jane and Thor in a way that is always awesome to read. | 3.7k

A Helping Hand by fuzzy_paint: Jane can’t sleep. Thor has a solution. Rec: Some nice, cute sleepy!smut to help Jane to relax and stop thinking. | 1.5k

The Scientific Method by Serious Snugglebunnies: Thor is much too honourable to have meaningless sex with Jane - but will he do it for the sake of science? Rec: Cracky, hilarious, and hot. | 3.3k

A Thorny Situation by GreenVelvetCurtains: Jane has a problem and she’s not afraid to try and solve it. Rec: A hot fantasizing/masturbation piece starring the lovely Jane Foster. | 2.7k

Detours by ancarett: Life is a highway. Jane takes Thor on the detours. Missing moments from the movie. Rec: Some mildly awkward sex which is actually kind of adorable and works out for everyone in the end. Not my favorite smut ever, but worth a read. | 3.9k

Say It’s Okay by theleaveswant: Darcy gave her a sympathetic pout and walked around the table to put both hands on Jane’s upper arms. “Okay. Honey? I know this isn’t your preferred way of handling things, but it looks like you’re going to have to talk with him.” Rec: Big premium on 'consent is sexy.’ Jane teaches Thor how to pleasure her. Not my favorite smut, but worth a read. | 2.1k

Accretion by RC_McLachlan: "You are burning inside,” Thor whines, rolling his hips again, and she rides it out helplessly, eyes rolling back, lungs cramping with envy for air. “Like a star." Rec: A seriously hot look at the simple difference in size between Jane and Thor. | 1.6

Salt On Your Lips by Barkour: The strawberry daiquiri is indeed a drink worthy of adulation, but Thor prefers the taste of Jane Foster. Rec: For it’s sense of fun that comes with the sex, and the pure happiness of two people who simply enjoy being in each other’s company. | 2k

Good Morning by me: Jane wakes up with Thor between her legs.My addition to Fosterson Week’s smut day. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. | 2k

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year by me: Jane and Thor do Christmas. (Finally.) Tis the season for holiday smut. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. | 5.4k

Your Highness by me: Jane wants something in bed and Thor is more than happy to oblige. For the first day of Fosterson Week, post-TDW. Rec: It’s not a true reclist without a self plug. | 6k

Not Your Average Star Trek Fanfiction by me: After several years of unresolved sexual tension, Jane and Thor are in quite a rush to rectify the situation. Takes place immediately following TDW. Rec: Because it wouldn’t be a true reclist without a self-plug. | 3.7k

#fosterson #jane foster #thor #jane x thor #thor x jane #fosterson fic rec masterlist #fic recs

[atsixesandcevans]

All Too Well

Summary: A collection of memories from your time with Steve, and the reality you now find yourself in.

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: angst, fluff

A/N: This was written for @yslbuckyx 1k celebration writing challenge, and my prompt was the song All Too Well by Taylor Swift. I had a lot of fun writing this, and although the song is quite angsty, I've tried to make the end of this slightly less so, as well as taking a few creative liberties to make the song work. It's technically also a modern-day au, but its not really mentioned, it just made it easier to make the song work. This also happens to be the first fic I've completed in 2 years, and my first fic for the mcu, so please be gentle, and I hope you enjoy! <3

Read on AO3

You cursed under your breath as you rifled through the storage boxes stashed under the bed, the ones filled with your winter wear, searching for your old scarf – worn and tattered but still your favourite – that you could’ve sworn you had put in there.

It was September, and the temperature had suddenly dropped, the world saying farewell to the long, hot summer, and you found yourself thrust into the chilled winds of autumn.

As you pulled out the last box, you heard a thud come from under the bed, and you ducked your head down to see what it was – a photo album. It sat, lost and forgotten, hidden from view, the memories too painful to look at, and too beautiful to get rid of. Distant sadness flooded through you as you realised what it was; the album you had filled with pictures of your time with Steve.

You reached under, grasping the solid cover, pulling it towards you. Your scarf forgotten, you perched on the end of your bed and started to flick through the pages, memories surging forward at the sight of every one.

The first picture was of you and Steve together, almost two years ago, right at the start of your relationship. You were huddled together, bundled up against the cold, snowflakes clinging to your eyelashes and the hair that wasn’t covered by your beanie. Wrapped around your neck was your old scarf, the one you had been looking for, the same one Steve had used to pull you closer to him so that he could press warm kisses to your lips, your cheeks, your nose. Your faces were bright, happy, the unbridled joy of the very first snow of winter.

In the picture, Steve had his arm around your shoulders, sharing the body heat he knew you needed, and he was looking down at you with the softest look on his face while you looked at the camera – though you couldn’t remember who was taking the photo.

Next to it was another, taken moments after the first, almost the same as the first, except in that one Steve had his lips pressed firmly against your cheek, the cold tip of his nose nudging the side of your eye.

Prospect Park had been beautiful that day, the light dusting of snow making the trees and grass look like something from a Christmas card. Families and couples had gathered all over the park, each with cold-brightened faces. Steve had taken you back to his apartment from the park, refusing to even entertain the idea of you walking all the way back to your place on the other side of town, even with him pressed tightly against your side.

It had been cold when you walked in, though Steve had immediately turned the heating on and gave you one of his sweaters to wear while he made cocoa. It was cold, sure, but you couldn’t help but think it felt so homely; pictures and trinkets placed on the empty surfaces, books lining the shelves, an easel set up in the corner by the window, some drawings and paintings pinned to the wall in an almost haphazard collage of both colour and monochrome.

You remembered, now, how you had left your scarf there that day. After spending the rest of the day cuddled with Steve, you had forgotten about plans you had made it the evening, and so left in a rush, your scarf forgotten on the coat rack by the door. You reasoned you’d take it home another time, but each time it remained forgotten until the warmer weather rolled in and you didn’t need it.

On the next page, there were three photos; one of the view from a hilltop, oranges and yellows and browns creating an autumnal sea as far as the eye could see, one of you in boots and a sweater, leg raised mid-kick through a pile of leaves, hair brushed back by the chill autumn wind, and finally one of Steve, crouched in front of a golden retriever, Charlie, face screwed up in a grin as his new companion gave him endless energetic kisses.

You’d come across Charlie on his walk during a trip you and Steve had taken upstate. On a rare day where you were both free, Steve decided the two of you would go on an adventure, so you took the car and lunch and just drove, not caring where you were going or if you got lost, only that you were together, full of that feeling that wasn’t quite love, but could be one day.

In a rare moment of distraction, Steve almost ran a red light because he couldn’t stop looking at you, the joy on your face as you sang along to whatever pop was on the radio. Steve didn’t care for the music, but it didn’t matter; the pure happiness on your face was all he cared about, and he found himself wanting to make sure you stayed that happy for the rest of your life.

And you were happy, then. Even now you could remember how right it all felt, how things were finally, finally falling into place.

The next page held just one photo – an old image, two young boys stood close together, wearing kid’s baseball uniforms, arms flung over shoulders and wide grins on their faces. One of the boys – Steve – was skinny, his uniform hanging off of his body. His dirty blond hair fell into his eyes, which were framed by black circular glasses. The tip of his nose was shiny and red, despite being in the height of summer, a sure sign of the hay fever he was no doubt suffering from at the time.

Bucky, in contrast, was taller, more filled out, and looked very much at home in the uniform, holding a baseball bat up against his shoulder.

It still baffled you how much Steve had changed physically since then. Obviously, he’d had one hell of a growth spurt, and now stood a little taller than Bucky, while he once only came up to his best friend’s shoulders. He was still the same at heart, though, from what Bucky had told you that day; soft, caring, but not afraid to fight for what was right. Always willing to stand up for the little guy, the one who couldn’t stand up for himself, just like Steve had been all those years ago.

Steve had taken you to Bucky’s apartment, a few months into your relationship, and the three of you had sat around the kitchen counter, box of photographs scattered across the surface, while Bucky told story after story from his and Steve’s childhood. Steve’s cheeks tinted pink as Bucky recalled the time he had thrown up after riding the Cyclone at Coney Island, and how the only real reason he got onto the Tee-ball team in the first place was out of sheer persistence as opposed to actual athletic talent. He really couldn’t play very well, but the coach had taken pity on him and let him on the team, placing him in a deep-fielding position so as to keep him as far from the action as possible (though it didn’t stop Steve from getting bruise after bruise from flying balls).

He told stories about how he had to come to rescue Steve on countless occasions when he got on the wrong side of one or other of the big kids that hung around the neighbourhood. How Steve’s mom would roll her eyes and fuss over him when he came home with yet another bruise or graze, yet how she never once told him to stop standing up for others, only to “be more careful,” quietly proud of her only son’s heart of gold.

It was the first time you had seen Steve truly embarrassed. While they had taught you about Steve’s past, you wondered, now, if they, like you, had thought that you were his future. Judging by Steve’s embarrassment, you had assumed he didn’t involve a whole lot of people in his past, and it broke your heart to think that he might think it was a mistake to let you in.

You’d stolen the picture. Or rather, it was given to you, by Bucky, while Steve was in the bathroom. He’d slid it across the counter with a wink, pressing one finger to his lips with a sly smirk which you had returned. You had never told Steve you had it, instead you’d tucked it away as soon as you had returned home, though you had been oh so tempted to frame it and hang it pride of place in your living room to serve as a reminder of the way your Steve had always been, kind-hearted and true.

That feeling was gone. Now, all the picture reminded you of was an easier time, and the promise of a future that couldn’t be.

A single tear hit the page and you took a deep breath, shutting the album abruptly. The memories were good, but you couldn’t help the way your heart ached just a little at what you had lost.

It had all changed so quickly between you and Steve, and you couldn’t place exactly what it was that had changed. Maybe the communication between you broke down, and Steve had become less open with his feelings, bottling things up like he had done when you had first met. Maybe the blame was yours; perhaps you had begun to ask too much of him, desperate for him to share his life with you. Or, maybe what you had was a masterpiece, a beautiful watercolour of bright oranges and pinks, until it was torn up by secrets and heartache.

Soon, it all became too much. Steve would cancel on plans with last-minute phone calls which almost always ended in an argument that was only ever partly resolved, neither of you wanting to be apart for long. During those arguments, you both became cruel, spouting hurtful things that neither of you really meant to say, but knew were at least partly true. You’d both attributed it to merely being honest with each other, but each time you both ended up feeling like crumpled pieces of paper, laying used and abandoned on the cold ground. Until it became too much, and you’d both finally waved white flags of surrender.

Time flew when you were together. There never seemed to be enough time, and you found yourselves spending as much time together as possible, neither wanting to say goodbye. Perhaps that’s where your relationship broke down; you both fell for each other so hard and so fast, perhaps neither of you stopped to think about whether you were even ready to commit fully to each other.

Now, though, time seemed to drag. You often felt paralysed by it, going through the motions each day with no real goal. You’d changed in the year since your relationship with Steve, you knew you had. The heartbreak had torn you apart, made you more closed off, submitting yourself to an altogether lonely existence.

You were still trying to find your old self again, the person you were – loving, open, optimistic to a fault, the very things that Steve claimed to have fallen in love with – before you dated Steve. Before the days he’d wear his plaid shirts because you’d told him they made him look like a sexy lumberjack, and mornings you’d wear nothing but that after a night full of nothing but love and passion and the promise of forever, forever, forever.

The finality of it all had hit you when you received a box of your belongings from Steve. You hated that you felt hurt by the fact that he didn’t even have the decency to give them to you in person. It had been shoved to the back of the closet as soon as you had opened it, the memories attached to the things inside too raw and painful for your aching heart. The rain poured that day, and where Steve once would have taken you home, insisting that he didn’t want you to catch a cold, you now trudged home alone, rain soaking your feet despite the umbrella clung tightly in your fist.

What you didn’t know was that Steve had kept your old scarf, had it stashed away in his drawer ever since that first week when you left it at his place. He takes it out sometimes, to remember a time when he was so full of light and hope, to remind him of your innocence and optimistic view of the world. It still somehow smelled like you, though the scent was fading, and he refused to wash it, clinging desperately to that last sliver of a better time, before he lost what he now realised what the only real thing he had ever known, the only time he had felt so truly, wholly in love.

Love like that was rare, magical, and although it had hurt when it ended, and still did sometimes, you were both grateful to have even experienced it at all.

It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well.

#yslbuckyxwritingchallenge #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers/you #steve rogers #captain america #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #captain America fanfiction #captain America fanfic #all too well #taylor swift #songfic #beth writes #my fic

[peggysousfan]

A Wild Reign

Lady Margaret Carter, Princess and daughter of the King Harrison Carter, is of age to marry. Her father has a set of suitors and picks the wealthiest and best candidate of them all in his opinion; Prince Steve Rogers. The marriage is less than happy, and whats to say will happen when young Peggy falls in love with her protector, her most trusted knight, Daniel Sousa. 

(This is chapter 1)

Far along the out skirted lands of England, hidden away beyond the open sea and wooded wilderness, hailed a Kingdom. The Astoria Kingdom was far stretched and held tightly together, ruled by a beloved king; King Harrison Carter of The Royal Founders. This family was responsible for the founding and building of this kingdom. Astoria Kingdom was named after the one true lost love to the original Carter himself, Rowan.

Many centuries have passed and still the Carter family reigns over the land, continuing to build and prosper. Year after year, heir after heir, the thrown was passed to the first born, man or woman. With the current King things were not so simple. A war was started between the neighboring kingdoms, a fight for land and resources; many lives were lost. Including the life of the first born child to Harrison and Amanda Carter, their son Micheal. He fought to his very last breath, the commanding knight and leader to his father's army was determined to defend his families land; but it cost his very life.

In the following months the Queen had fallen severely ill. The doctor had done all that he could but her life could not be saved. It was in this tragedy that the King and Princess remained as the only royals in Astoria. In so being, with both the prince and queen gone, it leaves the thrown to be passed down to one person alone, Princess Margaret.

Now that she is of age, Peggy must marry a suitable prince and prepare to take over the thrown in her fathers upcoming retirement. However, the princess herself no more wants a betrothed than that of a lamb wants to be slaughtered by a lion. But alas, the laws of nature and the land must be followed.

Given her very public life, everyone in the kingdom is well away of the appearance in which she portrays. Her face and features are well known to all, particular her clothing sets her apart. Because of this she takes advantage and slips on a peasants disguise to walk about the lands. Her dusted, muddled green kirtle drags behind her as she walks around, observing everything in sight. In doing so she see the lives of her subjects with her own eyes. Many do not recognize the princess when she deceives them, and it quite amuses her and the King.  Peggy watches among them, making sure all is as it should be, or simply making note on what can be improved to uplift the people in the kingdom.

But that is not her primary goal on this day. As of now the princess wheres her rags and disguise to observe the cluster of men all from far away lands. They have met here on this day, in this very tavern, to meet one another and wish good luck to the winner for the princess's hand. Indeed Peggy could not despise this reason more, but there was simply nothing she could do except obey her father's wish. Perhaps by observing she may yet find one of her suitors an acceptable husband.

"Ay! What say you, Rogers? How will you win over this fair maidens hand?"

The man in question chuckles heartily with his companions before gulping down the remainder of his enticingly strong beverage. The glass clinks on the old wooden bar as he looks to his dear childhood friend.

"James, you know all too well what I intend to do to take this Lady as my betrothed. And when I do, you can rest assured knowing I will have my way and an heir to the thrown."

The young princess observes from afar, her undertaken task revealing itself to be a success. She is learning all the intentions of these suitors and is far from amused or moved by their intentions. Neither one of these men seem the right sort of companion to spend the rest of her life with. To love and grow together, that is what she wants most of all, and it would seem not a one would be suitable for her.

"Indeed I know of your plan, but do enlighten our guests," James insists. Lord Rogers bellows a laugh and gazes at his companions,all anticipating his answer.

"My dear friends, if I were to tell you my plans to beseech the princess then it would leave an opening for my competitors to use. But I will decree this... the best way to win the princess's hand in marriage is to win over the King's trust. He must know his daughter will be safe, and I shall proclaim that Princess Margaret shall be in no safer hands than my own. Among other things." He smirks, leaving everyone around him to holler in praise and crooked laughs.

Peggy listens to the words of her contending suitor and is highly unpleased. What sort of man would say such words aloud? Surely not that of a man with good intentions. It is there in this moment that the Princess has decided to  not give Lord Rogers the satisfaction of being the winner of this contest. Steven Rogers of the Dumeria Kingdom will not be her husband so longs as she has a say. The princess takes her leave from the tavern and finds her way onto a path.

As she walks along the dirt filled road, she collides with someone unexpectedly; a tall dark haired knight with eyes a dark brown that reflect his kind soul. As this tall dark and charming leader looks upon the face of the person he had encountered, he could not stop the twinkling light of his smile blossoming across his face. Peggy looks up at him and she does all that she can to not chortle at the situation in which she finds herself in. The man in his glistening red armor bites his lower lip as to keep his own distinct amusement from calling attention to others around them. Peggy then in this moments looks to see if anyone has an eye on their person, once she deduces they are not being watched, she takes his hand in hers and they run off to the stables of the castle

All the while they run, they cannot contain their laughter a moment longer. Once stopped their hands break apart and the knight guffaws at the sight before him.

"O  Daniel,  I pray you are not so entertained and implore that my attire is what amuses you so," Peggy jests.

"My dear princess, might I ask what the devil you are doing with such attire on your person," He continues to laugh as he gesture so to her clothing. She then in turn shoves him, but he dares not budge.

"Indeed I am your princess and you will not question my actions,"

"I beg your forgiveness for such inquiry, but I fear I will never not be amused by such pretensions." She gasps with such glee and proceeds to advance further.

"Daniel!" She shoves him again and he steps aside, causing her in turn to loose her balance. Peggy then trips over the hay, making flacks fly about around her. At this sight it is then that the knight laughs at her, holding his gut while doing so. "I say! It is not as entertaining as you pretend it to be!" The pins in her hair had fallen undone, leaving it to flow over her shoulders.

"I fear it is more so than you may think, Peggy." She stands at this and charges at him, and takes him by surprise. The cotte de maille he wears clinks in sound and her hair gets caught on the ends.

"Are you so amused by my disguise that you cannot for your own sake, keep such jest to yourself." She inquires while looking down at him. Daniel in turn huffs and chuckles in delight.

"Indeed I am."

"Oh you!" Peggy untangles her hair and removes herself from him, praying no one had witnessed such an intimate position between them, and dusts away any hay that has clung to her rags.

Daniel guffaws as he watches her and stands on his own. He then questions once more her reason for wearing such clothing. He has never known her to do such a thing before.  

"And why would I answer such a pretentious question?"

"Enlighten me." He takes a seat on the straw bale behind him while she sits next to him, pins her hair, and unravels her reasons. As she ends her explanation, he takes this moment and smiles at her lovingly.

"What?" She inquires, a smile of her own appearing. Daniel takes her hand in his once more and places a tender kiss upon it.

"You will make an excellent queen one day."

Peggy then looks away, her face bashful. He has always known her to love her kingdom and care for her people, but to hide and live among them, to help and understand them, it was something in which had not been done. Daniel knew her caring nature would take her far in her reign. This he knows, but she fears such coming times. All that is required of her in those moments, with a husband she must have by her side. It is in this thought her smile fades from her features.

"I'm not too sure all of my reasons were for purity."

"Your Highness, you are not the first, nor the last woman to worry needlessly when it comes to her marriage." At this she leans to her right, her head resting upon his shoulder. In return his arm wraps around her, a comforting embrace. "You will survive this conquest and see it through. If anyone will be victorious in choosing a perfect suitor, it is you."

"You are too kind. But I fear that may not be true."

"Peggy, if I remember correctly, it was you who saved my life as a child. You alone pulled me from the reservoir and assisted me in making all my dreams possible. You, princess, can do all things so long as you have your mind set. I know you."

Peggy lifts her head from its comforted spot and gazes into his eyes, so full or warmth and truth. It is in this moment that the world has seemed to slow its pace and fall to an easing calm.

"Thank you, my good knight. My dear friend. What would I do had God not sent you on my path?"

"Given our history? Most likely have fallen out a tree and broken every bone in your body, or simply burn all of the castle down in an attempt to soil Micheal's own plans against you."

"O such cheek! Continue such words and you may find yourself back in the reservoir." Daniel smiles and leans closer, their nose but a breaths apart.

"I have learned the art of surviving the waters. My teacher was very proficient in her teachings."Peggy in turn glances down at their close proximity, then gazes into his eyes.

"Hmm, I may have to have words with this woman." She  replies, her eyes glistening with mischief.

"By all means, allow me to find you a mirror." They two laugh with jolly feeling and pull apart.

"You highness!" Both Peggy and Daniel turn to peer at the voice calling to the Princess. As they do they see it is no one more than Peggy's handmaiden; Angela. Or as many friends call her, Angie.

The pair stand in unison and watch as she storms over to them. The knight looks down, his head hung low in knowing what is to come. Peggy glances at him and then at her handmaiden, her friend, and sighs with defeat. They know what they have done. They know it is wrong now they are older, and yet it is hard to let go of such tradition; such connection.

Since the day Peggy had found Daniel, then a frail boy with no one to support him, she has stuck by his side; and him to her. She found him nearly drowning in a lake near the country side. The Princess and her brother were playing a game, and much to the majesties disapproval, the siblings wandered far beyond the castles borders with no protection. It was there Peggy had dove into the frigid cold water and saved his life; it was this day their lives were forever changed.

Peggy and Micheal had fought tooth and nail to assist Daniel in receiving a better life. His one and only dream was to become a knight; one of the fairest the Kingdom had ever seen. But it was almost impossible to make this dream come true. Daniel was not of high stature, he has no noble blood in his family. It is not a done thing to do to allow a commoner to serve such a great honor; and yet it has happened. The Carter Royal family is the first ever to allow such a historical change. Not to make a charitable example of him, but to make him the first of many to be accepted as a non-nobleman to serve his country. Daniel is more than fitted for his status and it is because of his long time friend, the Princess.

Over the years, the two have grown very close. Many letters of love written between them as children. It was very amusing to the King and Queen; were it not for tradition they would have thought it a perfect match, but alas some rules must not be broken. Although now much older, Peggy and Daniel fight and play as if they were children still, unknowingly finding themselves in very compromising situations which could bring about scandal. It is this reason alone Angie tries to help the Princess at all times when it comes to her beloved knight.

"I know what this must look like, but I swear it upon my very soul it is nothing of the sort. Angie please, you mustn't tell father." She pleads.

"Princess I am sworn to you, that is why I have been searching the grounds to fetch you. Your suitors are waiting." Angie looks between the two, knowing it is not what it seems; and yet it is exactly what her mind believes. It is quite obvious what has happened, but she says nothing in ear of someone over hearing.

Daniel does not speak a word, he simply nudges Peggy lightly in encouragement; however his smile is not one of happiness.

"Good luck, Peg." She sighs with a heavy heart, wishing only to spend her time with the only man's company she truly enjoys. Not that of men whom only which to use her and her crown as to become a King. The knight sees her unease and takes her hand in es own, their fingers linking together as one. "Trust your heart. Choose the one that will treat you and love you for who you are. The way you deserve."

"I will do my best." The two embrace and pull apart as she begins to walk away.

"So..." The maiden hesitates to speak.

"Angie, please." The Princess sighs, knowing all to well what she will say. "We simply saw one another and came here to-"

"You do not have to explain yourself, your highness. I know." The look in her eyes is one of full understanding, and Peggy is all too grateful for it. "But I word of advice, if I may?"

"Dare I say given your boisterous and illuminating nature, you were going to advise me with or without my consent." She chuckles with light amusement.

The maiden laughs as she and the Princess walk side by side, nearing the Castles doors. "I know, given these many years of serving you, that you have grown... shall we say rather close with Sir Daniel. It is very clear you care for this Knight of yours, and I pray you will not be vexed by my next statement. But given your betrothal it would be unwise to see him as often as you have once before."

"What are you saying, Angie?" Although she is well aware in her handmaidens answer, she must hear the words for herself.

"You mustn't see Sir Daniel any longer. That is to say, not nearly as much as you do now. Not after your wedding."

As the Princess digests her friend's words, they walk in silence the rest of the way. At once they stop at the double doors in which meetings and such are held. The room where Peggy must choose her fate in love.

"I understand why I must do so, but would it be so wrong of us to be more private about our time together?"

"Peggy... You will be more in the public eye than ever before."

"Angie I cannot leave Daniel. I cannot push him aside! Not after all these years." Once again silence falls between them, not either knowing what to say next.

"I will assist in anyway I may to allow you to see him. Perhaps... no I-I shouldn't say."

"Angie... what is it you are not telling me?" At this the maiden lowers her head in sulks, fearing she is overstepping her boundaries.

"Could he become your personal knight? A protector to guard you after your coronation as Queen? It is only this thought I can muster where you may see your knight without true scandal throughout the lands."

As if a light has shone through Peggy's mind,a smile blossoms across her face. Daniel could personally be with her at all times, or whenever she wishes it. Not only would her husband have no say or reason to speak against it, she will also see her knight everyday for as long as they wish.

"That is an excellent idea! I shall approach father with this request after dealing with these suitors." The woman part ways as the Princess enters through the doors, her father in waiting on the other side.

Within several long enduring hours of speaking with each man from different lands, the Princess and King are left alone to discuss the winning Prince for her hand. Lord Roland of France is more likely in her opinion, but in her mind none are suited for her heart. Not a one has seemed genuine in their words to her. Even Lord Rogers was less than convincing, but the King thinks otherwise.

"Father, surely you are not considering Lord Rogers as the man in which I will marry?"

"Indeed he is, my dear." Harrison says whilst sitting down on his thrown. His daughter follows suit and stands before him, her stance pleading.

"O father! Please reconsider another bachelor. One of whom is any man but him!" She begs, but he simply huffs and looks at his beloved daughter.

"Margaret... Peggy, darling, he is the obvious choice. He is well bred and is fine in all manners of strategy for the kingdom. He has many years of experience in combat and has served in high ranks as a Lieutenant-general for his army. He has all the wealth that could bring prosperity to us all, and to make the matter more than ideal, his heavenly features. It is more than adequate enough to call him the perfect husband for you."

"I'm not quite sure 'heavenly' is the veracious vocabulary I would use to describe his features, your majesty." The princess kindly retorts. Her father catches the underlying tone and wit in her voice and chuckles wholly.

"My dear girl he is a fine gentleman with whom I've heard a great deal. He is the man I deem worthy enough to bare your hand in marriage and my decision is final. You will be wed by-"

"Father please think upon your decision before decreeing your answer! Ruminate this, your majesty, as your daughter I ask you, what about my happiness?" Her eyes gleam with stricken tears, and the king notices as such, constricting his heart in a way that he has not felt since the late queen had passed, nor that of his sons death in battle.

"The happiness of the kingdom must come before oneself, my darling. Remember that." Harrison looks away from the sight before him, no longer being able to bear the look in his daughters eyes.

"Mother would not hear of this. Her last dying wish was that I not live my life in misery. That  I prosper and find love. To not only love but to marry the man with whom I am in love with and only him. To fill my heart with his love and flourish in my life. Come, father. Pray, tell me how I may fulfill her request if I am to marry a man that I despise!"

The king laughs at her heartfelt statement and shakes his head in grief. Indeed his wife had wished that their daughter would marry for love when she was of age, but that accord was many many years ago. Times have changed since that day and now Margaret is without a choice to make.

"Your mother is gone, Peggy. I know that of which was her last wish, but it cannot come to pass. I beg of you to put an end to any spat you have with Lord Rogers and claim his as your husband."

"Father we have no spat." She mumbles, aloud whilst looking at the stones floor beneath her feet. Her posture now stiff and crestfallen.

"If it not a quarrel that you have with him, then speak fully. What is it that you despise of this man? He has not placed any harm to you from my knowledge." At the thought of this, he sits straighter and leans forward. The king has already lost his wife and son. He will not have any harm come to his daughter as well.

"Not in the way your mind may think. I simply have no faith in a man that relies on his charms. Lord Steven Rogers of Dumeria is over confident, in love with himself, and-"

"And is no different to that of any other man in all the lands. You are simple uninterested in the fact that Sir Rogers had not spoken to you through the duration of the time in which we met."

Peggy huffs a breath and crosses her arms in defense. She does not want to live through her reign and life with a man that will only think of himself before her and her kingdom. Once married, all the wealth will be divided between the two kingdoms, both that of Astoria and Dumeria. As Peggy and Rogers wed, she will be Queen and oversee all subjects withing her domain after her father dies, not her husband. But to her suspicion, Rogers may very well try to take it from her.

Given his atrociously inappropriate behavior in the tavern, Peggy can only conclude what sort of trouble he will get up to. If only there were a way to ensure he did not stand a chance in winning her hand and claiming her as his wife... Perhaps there is.

"May I offer a suggestion, Father? One that may give us both what we please?"

"What suggestion do you have in mind?" Harrison leans forward, peeked with curiosity.

"A contest. More specifically, a jousting contest. The winner may have my hand in marriage." Before her father can interrupt, however, she interjects. "Only the leading 6 men of your choosing will attend and compete. Only the men you think best suited for my heart."

The king then leans against  his thrown in thought. Perhaps his daughter has reveled in a fine idea after all.

"Very well. I shall announce this event and it will be hosted within the week."

As promised the announcement was made and all the men were chosen to compete. The contenders for the Princess's hand were Prince Roland of France, Edmund of Nochosta Empire, William of Kings-bridge, Jack of Satilia Kingdom, Bradford of Dreviel, and Steven of Dumeria.

Within 3 days the event takes place, all contenders compete with haste. They each mount their horses, charge, and one falls. Each round more intense than the last. As the jousting unfolded, nearing the end of the contest, the King had begun to grow worrisome. Princess Margaret had vanished. It was not unlike her to be bored with men and their need to fight over her, but it was strange for her to not want to witness such fighting on this day of all. This day determines who will serve by her side when she is Queen. This man will be her husband and King and bear her children. It is this day that will determine the rest of her life.

It is in these moments and appearances that many subjects take note of. The Princess has not attended her own requested  competition. How could she ever judge a man by his strength and strategy if she herself was not there to observe. It is in the last round that Harrison himself pays less attention to the jousting and more to the whereabouts of his daughter. Peggy is not one to take her duties lightly; more so seriously in that of the public eye. Although Lord Steven, Harrison's own choice for Margaret, is the last competitor to compete against Lord Bradford, he simply cannot watch with interest.

In the end it is not Rogers that wins, but his competitor. As the winning contender rides along the ground, they dismount their horse and stand, listening to the crowd roar with applause. The king himself stands and claps in praise, and yet does not seem at all too pleased; the princess has missed the entirety of the event in which she had wanted arranged. Now the King is anxious. Harrison looks to his left and searches the crowd for his daughter, and yet she does not appear; not in the area in which he except too that is.

As the king is unsettled, the crowd bustles about with praise. The contender continues to stand and wave before attempting to remove their helmet. When they do, the audience becomes silent with shock.

Princess Margaret has won the contest.

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