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#you should love that hobbit looking man as he is
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I hadn't read that one!
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Despite an initially awkward interaction in your favourite bookstore, maybe things start going well for you after meeting that handsome stranger.
a/n. My academic anxiety allowed me to finish this! Maybe it's because this type of situations it's all I need right now. 😩 I would really appreciate if you tell me if you liked and your opinions about it! Any advice would be appreciated. And please, remember English is not my first language.
Word count: 1.2k
You entered your favourite bookstore, knowing that you were going to buy something even if you didn’t plan on it. You went there a lot, it was on your way home from work and always a comfort place for you.
“Hi, Y/N! Are you buying something today?” The booksellers already knew you and you could even consider them as friends, you can’t remember how many times you just went inside only for a chat with them when the place was empty of customers. “It’s been a week since the last book I bought, so… you know I will.” You laugh knowing it was impossible to leave with empty hands.
You went to your most loved section, the fantasy one. The hunger games, The maze runner, A court of thorns and roses… Oh, how you loved those books. You were too focused on the book titles that you missed someone, only noticing the person when you bumped into him. “Oh my god! I’m sorry! I didn’t see you! I’m so so sorry!” You looked up to the man staring at you and, oh god, he was captivating. His blue eyes were the most beautiful you’ve ever seen. 
He looked at you and nodded, not saying anything. He stared at you for a few seconds and then he went back to his task of checking the book in his hands, The Hobbit. You hadn’t read that one. “Nice book, I guess, I hadn’t read that one!” He looked at you and nodded again. Realising he wasn’t going to say anything, you kept reading more titles until you decided for one. 
“So, today I'm choosing this one, The invisible life of Addie LaRue, have you read it?” You asked the bookseller as you pay. You love to talk about books. You both start a conversation about it, but you couldn’t stop looking at where that handsome man was. You hoped to see him again, maybe not bump into him… or doing it, no matter how as long as you saw him again.
The next day, after having an awful day at work, you stopped again at your favourite place at the same hour, again. “Hey guys, today it's just looking! I need some distraction.” They nodded in your direction, understanding that some days, you just needed your books, not talking, not socialising, just books. Or that’s what they thought. 
You did in fact need someone, someone that you didn’t have. You longed for someone like the men you read about, someone to love you like Hozier loves in his songs. Those days at work were the absolute worst, your boss being an asshole to you and without someone waiting for you at home for some cuddles to forget about everything else. So you searched for that comfort in books, alone.
You went again to the fantasy section, surprised (and excited) to see someone familiar there. It was the same man you’d bumped into the previous day. Should you say something? Maybe apologise again? “Hey! Hi again! I bumped into you yesterday… sorry about that again.” You cringed at yourself, you regretted starting to talk. “Hi, yeah, I remember, don’t worry.”
Oh. My. God. His voice. That’s all you could think about. You didn’t know what to say so you stayed there looking at him and wanting to disappear. “I’m Y/N, by the way, not that you care, but… yeah, hi.” You were two sentences away from punching yourself right in the face. Why couldn’t you just shut up? It wasn’t that hard, was it?
“Bucky.” Oh god, he was making clear that he didn’t want to keep talking, you were definitely annoying him. He didn’t deny that he didn’t care. “Well, nice to meet you, Bucky, I’ll let you keep looking.” 
You saw that he was looking at some of the books you were looking at yesterday and you were curious about it. Was he doing it because he saw you? Or your delusional self was speaking? After some time wandering in between books, you decided it’s time for you to go home. You looked around to see if Bucky was still around but you didn’t see him. 
Another day, another visit to the bookstore. This time you were excited about seeing someone. Was Bucky going to be there? You wanted to see him again, maybe talk to him if you felt brave enough. When you entered the bookstore, you searched for him, but he wasn’t there. One of your bookseller friends saw you enter and immediately called you. 
“Y/N! I have something for you!” For you? What could it be? A new book that could be interesting for you? “Oh! What is it?” You didn’t understand the smile she was giving you. She handed you a book and a note. You read it.
Dear Y/N, 
You told me you didn’t read The Hobbit, I think it’s time for you to do it. I guess I’m too coward to tell you this in person.
Bucky
You then looked at the book in your hands, The Hobbit. No way! You couldn’t believe what was happening. “Did he… leave this here? For me?” You couldn’t think straight, but the librarian understood what was going through your mind. “Yes Y/N!! He did!! He looked so nervous when he handed me everything! He bought the book just for you!” You were blushing so hard. 
You decided then that you were going to go home right at that moment to start the book, it felt like a way to connect with him. You were slightly disappointed that it wasn’t him the one who handed you the book in person, but you couldn’t stop thinking that it was so cute how he did it. You were now excited to see him again to talk about the book, so you had to start it right now.
After arriving home you prepared yourself for a good reading session. You opened the book and saw a post-it on the first page. 
Oh, and by the way, I’m not gonna be in the city this week, so here’s my number in case you want to talk about it while reading it ;). 
Bucky, again.
His phone number was there. You let out an excited squeal. This was better than any romance novel you’ve ever read because this was real. THIS WAS REAL! You lost no time in adding him in your contacts and sending him a message.
Y/N: hi! Y/N here :). thank you for the book, excited to read it!
Bucky📚: Hey, Y/N. Hope you enjoy it ;). Keep me updated.
You were giggling and kicking your feet, you were actually texting the hot guy you met at the bookstore!
Y/N: i will! but… maybe i also want to talk about it in person…🤭
Bucky📚: When I come back to town, I would 
like that too, maybe with a coffee?
Sweet mother of pearl! Was he asking you out? You couldn’t think about what to say.
Bucky📚: Like a date.
Oh. He was asking you out! Time to focus, you think to yourself.
Y/N: sure, i would like that :). 
Y/N: now let me start my book! ;)
Maybe this could be the start of something interesting. Maybe you finally founded the man of your dreams.
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thebonewitch · 11 months
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I honestly think that my favorite thing about Thorin in the films is that he's a terrible king. Of course he is. He has to be. His quest is about vengeance as much as it is about homecoming, and he's too caught in the injustices of the past that need avenging to look to building a better future. He's lost before he ever makes it to the mountain. Even before the gold sickness and the Arkenstone take him, he's confused the people he still has with the people he's lost and he cannot save them. He cannot save any of them.
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estrellami-1 · 9 months
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If I Should Stay
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
He’s staring at him.
Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.
The thing is, people don’t just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, “I need to talk to you,” Eddie thinks he’s entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.
“You? Talk? To me?” Wow. Great job, brain.
“Please,” Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except he’s good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harrington’s eyes.
“Okay,” he says, stammers. “Um. There- there’s, behind the school, a, uh-”
“Table,” Harrington nods. “That works. Just…” he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Leave the lunchbox at home.”
Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Then what the fuck do you want with me, dude?”
“I can’t explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?”
Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. He’s scared. “Okay,” he says, and means it.
Eddie’s a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harrington’s already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. “You sure you don’t want anything from the lunchbox?”
Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. “No. I- I’m good. I can’t, actually.”
Eddie frowns. “What, like, a sports thing? No one’s gotta know, dude, I’ve never been busted, I can keep a secret.”
Steve gives him a half-smile. “No. It’s- it’s not a sports thing. Just… sit down? And promise to listen?”
“Okay,” Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and he’s not a dick; clearly Harrington’s going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesn’t know.
“Okay,” Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. “If I were to tell you I’m from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?”
Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. “Um. I dunno, man, I haven’t really thought about it.”
He takes another deep breath. “Can I try?”
“To- to prove you’re from the future?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. “Man, where the fuck do I get the strain you’re on?”
He blinks. “What?”
Eddie gestures at him. “Come on, man, you have to admit you’re not really making sense here.”
Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, “You live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your mom’s favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when I’ve said enough.”
Eddie’s never been more scared in his life. “Listen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-”
“Eddie,” he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.
A ring Eddie already has on his finger.
“What the fuck,” Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.
His hands start shaking.
“I’m from 1987,” Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. “And I’m trying to stop something terrible.”
“And what would that be?” Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.
“Your death,” Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect
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something something Eddie Munson visits a local bookstore to purchase a first edition copy of The Hobbit.
He sits in a big comfy chair to read it and after a few minutes, a group of kids start to gather on the floor around him. Eddie notices a sign next to the chair that says ‘after school story time’ and because he can’t resist their curious little expressions, he begins narrating the first chapter to them.
The bookstore manager, Steve Harrington, hears the children’s laughter and walks to the back of the store to find an extremely animated man reading a story to the kids.
He’s shamelessly watching the storyteller, when his co-manager - Robin - walks by and sees him staring at Eddie.
“You should hire him next week too,” she suggests. “The kids love him.”
Steve gives her a puzzled look. “You didn’t hire him?”
“No. You didn’t hire him?”
Steve shakes his head and returns back to watching Eddie, who’s now standing up and showing his young audience the novel’s map of Middle-earth. He’s not sure who is more captivated in this moment. The kids. The storyteller. Or himself.
“Well, Steve,” Robin interrupts his internal dialogue. “You better find out his story before their parents get here and give us an earful.”
“Definitely.” Steve is still smiling at Eddie - only this time, Eddie catches him and smiles back.
“I definitely want to know his story.”
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navybrat817 · 3 months
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The Dad Diaries: Welcome Home
Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky reflects on the first night with his son home and puts his thoughts to paper.
Word Count: Over 1.2k
Warnings: Fluff, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?).
A/N: Welcome to The Dad Diaries! This AU will focus on Bucky and his relationship with his son (and you!) ❤️ Thanks to the beautiful @whisperlullaby for giving this intro a look and assuring me it wasn't garbage, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky stared intently at the open blank journal that sat in the middle of his office desk. He had picked up the pen a few minutes ago, but hadn’t written a single word. Why did he feel stuck? Better yet, what was he thinking by doing this? Reading often came easy to him, but writing? That was something else entirely.
It was also something he wanted to do.
He ran a hand over his face with a sigh and wondered if he should call it a night, crawl into bed with you, and try tomorrow. No, he didn’t want to push it off before he even began. Glancing at the monitor, he heard your voice in his head, a memory of something you told him in the early stages of dating:
The best writing comes from the heart. Write what you and your heart love because no one knows that story better than you.
Bucky had plenty of stories to tell. How he became a hero and a good man after years of pain and darkness. Or how he fell in love with you and became your husband.
And his newest adventure of becoming a father.
He wasn’t sure how to be a dad yet, but he knew he loved his son. That was more than enough to start. And with a smile tugging at his lips, he put the pen to paper.
Hey, Nugget,
My name is James Buchanan Barnes. Most people call me Bucky. Your mom calls me her husband and I’m the luckiest man in the world for that, especially since she gave me the greatest gift I could ever ask for: you.
Your name is James, too. Your mom doesn't know if we’ll call you Jamie or JJ, but I have a feeling you'll hear a bit of both. And one day, I’ll get to hear you call me Dad. Or Dada or Daddy or Papa.
Whatever makes you happy.
He paused in his writing when he thought he heard something on the monitor. His eyes flickered to the screen again and he breathed a little easier when he saw that his baby was still sleeping soundly in the middle of the crib. It wouldn’t stop him from checking on him later, just to be on the safe side.
I’m so glad you’re home. In fact, tonight is your first night in the nursery. I hope you like it here. To quote Ralph Waldo Emerson: “A house is made with walls and beams: a home is built with love and dreams.”
Yeah, your old man likes to read. Maybe you will, too. I even have an original copy of The Hobbit and would love to give it to you when you're older.
Books lined the far wall of Bucky’s office, many of them worn from the amount of times he read them. He made sure Jamie’s room had a reading nook, too. It was one of the only things he asked for when the two of you designed the nursery.
I hope you get enough sleep tonight. Your mom, too. You both did great at the hospital and deserve all the rest you can get.
Would you believe me if I said I was a nervous wreck when I brought your mom in, but tried not to let it show? People call me strong, but I don’t think I ever witnessed true strength until I saw how steady of a rock she was. She blew me away, which didn't surprise me. She amazes me every day.
Hearing your first cry stopped my heart and brought tears of joy to my eyes. After nine months of waiting and talking to your mom’s stomach, you were finally here. And seeing her hold you made me fall in love all over again.
Sorry if that sounds sappy, but it’s true. She looked right at me with happy tears in her eyes and said, “Bucky, look! Look at what we made! It's our little Nugget!” and my heart swelled. She insisted on calling you that and it rubbed off on me. Believe me when I say that you are the luckiest baby in the world to have the mother that you do.
He stopped writing again to glance at his wedding band, smiling all over again. He thought your love filled his heart before, but it overflowed now. It warmed him like nothing else ever could.
You’re probably wondering why I’m writing this since a lot of time will pass by the time you read this. Sometimes I may write to remember things I’m afraid I’ll forget. Other days I’ll write to reflect and get the words out when my mind is too loud. But my hope is that this will be a gift to you.
A bond for the two of us.
As you grow, I’ll fill the pages with the memories of you and our family. I’ll tell you about my past and how it shaped me into the man I am today. How your mom and I met and how I somehow convinced her to fall in love with me. And I’ll be sure to tell you about the day she told me we were going to have you and how that news changed my life for the better.
He swallowed the lump in his throat before he continued.
I also plan to fill this with your milestones. Like your first smile. Is it selfish if I hope to see it first? If not me, your mom. She’d love that. Your first step. Being selfish again, but I hope it’s me you walk toward so I can pick you up and tell you how proud I am. And your first word. I hope it’s Mama.
Though I won’t object if you say Dada.
Bucky chuckled as he imagined the look of betrayal on your beautiful face if your son said “Dada” first instead of “Mama”.
I’m sure some days I’ll have more to say than others. If I’m lucky, I can pass on life lessons and words of wisdom. Some days though I may not say the right thing and I know I’ll stumble along the way as I figure out how to be the best dad to you. I say “best” and not “perfect” because perfection doesn’t exist. Except for you and your mom.
The beauty of it is that I don’t have to go it alone. I’ll have your mom by my side to help guide and protect you and to watch you flourish. And my hope is that you know as you look through the pages how much we love you.
Even on days I may not get it right, I’m your dad, you’re my son, and you’ll always have a home with me and a place in my heart.
I’ll write more when I can, Nugget. Until then, I love you.
Always,
Dad
Bucky set the pen down as he exhaled. It wasn't perfect, but it didn't have to be. It was a start. As long as he put his heart into his words, it would shine from the pages.
And he couldn't wait for all the adventures he’d have with his little Nugget.
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I hope you lovelies are excited to take this journey with Bucky. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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buckyalpine · 1 year
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A little longer
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HI MY BEAUTIFUL 🐚ANON!! I adore this so much, I adore YOU so much, as always, your requests are everything!! 
Warnings: So so much fluffy fluff, angst if you really squint till your eyes go cross-eyed and blurry
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"It's been decades. Not even a couple years. Almost a century. You probably shoot dust. Or whatever your bionic ass reproduces with"
Bucky contemplated throwing his half finished milkshake at Sam's head while they both scarfed down burgers from a late night diner after a taxing mission. Sam was pestering Bucky yet again about his nonexistent social and lack of a love life, a topic he seemed to get high off of. 
“For fucks sake Sam-”
"You need to get out more man, at least start dating. You don't need a whole girlfriend but a few dates wouldn't kill you. Or maybe it would, since you're what, 106?"
Bucky groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, his patience wearing thin. Dating wasn’t for him, not because he didn’t want to date but because he wasn’t sure who would even date him. He’d only just gotten comfortable talking to Sam though he’d never openly admit he actually enjoyed their conversations. He wasn’t exactly the most approachable, Peter had once told him he had a resting bitch face, whatever that meant. He wasn’t the most tech savvy unless it involved doing something illegal. He had a plethora of devices that could take down the US government at the push of a button he secrecy hoarded under his bed but God forbid someone ask him to pose for their Instagram story.  
Talking to a pretty girl was a completely different story. What would he even talk about? His time before the war involved a lot of nursing an injured or sick Steve back to health. After the war and his time in Hydra, he didn’t really have time for himself. He liked plums. The hobbit. He was thinking about getting a cat. Bucky internally groaned, maybe he’d find a girlfriend at the retirement home down the street; at least they’d have things in common. 
Sam cocked an eyebrow while Bucky narrowed his eyes at him. Usually he’d respond with a grumpy pout or complete silence but today his exhaustion had caught up with him. He debated on how to get Sam of his back, a dim, flickering, half broken bulb going off in his sleep deprived brain. 
"I already have a girlfriend Tweety bird"
The deafening silence that followed that statement made it clear both men were aware that was a lie. Sam snorted, shaking his head while they both finished they food, slapping a $50 on the counter before leaving. He looked at the super soldier, deciding not to press into the issue further for the night but he definitely wasn’t going to let it go that easily. 
5:30 AM
The buzz of his phone jolted him awake, the faint sound of the TV still playing in the background. Bucky felt around for his phone, tossing his sheet off, sitting up from his place on the floor seeing Sam’s caller ID light up the screen. 
“What are you doing next Saturday” Sam sounded unusually chipper, a hint of a smirk in his voice, a suspicious amount of enthusiasm for such an early hour. 
“Why” Bucky groaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes, going back to lying down. 
“Were having a cookout over the weekend, you should come”
“You woke me up to tell me what could have been a text message?” Bucky asked incredulously, closing his eyes, ready to let sleep free him from such a ridiculous conversation. 
“Ooo, white panther knows how to text now” 
“White Wolf” Bucky grumbled, regretting every telling Sam the name he had been given in Wakanda. “I’ll come if you just let me go back to sleep” 
"Alright, but bring your girl too"
There it was. 
He could feel the shit eating grin Sam was giving him over the phone, eye brows wigging up and down, all his perfect teeth out. 
“Whatcha say Barnes?” 
Sleep had disappeared into thin air as Bucky shot up, mentally kicking himself for the nonsense he’d gotten himself into. He fiddled with the corner of his sheet, hoping to find an out. 
"I thought you only invited family" 
"Hey, anyone that you're allowing within 3 feet of your personal space might as well be considered family" Sam snorted, not believing a single word Bucky had said the night before. The conversation moved on to a different topic, easing some of Bucky’s nerves. A whole hour had passed and Bucky was sure he was in the clear until-  
“Back to the matter at hand, you bringing her or not?” 
“Why are you like this, does being Captain America always come with the caveat with also being a pain in my ass, I’m not going to-”
Bucky was about to refuse until a knock at the door pulled him away from the conversation, the scent of fresh pancakes wafting through the door. He pulled himself up, a smile tugging on his lips, knowing exactly who was on the other side, not needing to check as he untangled himself from the sheets. 
His sweet neighbor. 
Bucky wasn’t religious and he wasn’t a big believer in a higher power but there had to be something out there when people like you existed. Whenever Sam asked him why he stayed in the dingy little apartment that barely had windows and a closet for a bedroom, he’d insist it was because he preferred a small space and was still getting used to living a normal life so he wasn’t ready for another move just yet. 
The part he always left out was that his dingy apartment came with an absolute angle that lived next door. Kind hearted. Sweet. An absolute darling. You were one of the first people he’d interacted with when he moved in. All the nerves he had about living alone and growing accustomed to a regular life melted away the first day, when you came over with a plate of fresh cookies. 
He felt like a little boy whenever you were around, having the biggest crush on the prettiest girl on the playground, his mind going to mush whenever you smiled at him. But it wasn’t a crush. Nope. No....? No. He narrowed his eyes at himself before making his way to the door. 
“Buck? Did your tongue rust-” 
“I’ll uh-I’ll think about it” He mumbled before cutting the call, a bashful smile on his face as he unhooked the chain and swung the door open. “G’morning doll” 
“Good Morning” You grinned, handing Bucky the plate which he gratefully accepted, his stomach rumbling between the butterflies that fluttered in his tummy. “I heard you get in last night, didn’t think you’d have time to do a grocery run or cook anything” You handed him a bag of fruits and vegetables, two of those bags full of plums. His favorite. 
“You didn’t have to do all this” If his cheeks grew any warmer he would’ve sworn he was running a fever. And he didn’t get fevers. 
“You’re out saving the world, I think getting you a few groceries is the least I could do. So, how’s the new Captain?” You had never met Sam in person but hearing enough stories from Bucky told you all you needed to know. No one else was better suited to take on the shield than him. 
“A pain in my ass even if he means well” Bucky smiled shaking his head to himself. “He’s been pestering me to get out more...start dating” He mumbled the last part, wincing. He’d fought off aliens, gone to battle alongside a tree and a talking raccoon, survived being help captive by Hydra but being boyfriend material? His flirting game was as strong as pre serum Steve's right hook. 
“Well, handsome solider like you, shouldn’t be too hard to find you a date” You felt your own face heat up as soon as the words left your mouth but wasn’t like it was a secret. There was no way he would have had trouble in the dating department; aside from being one of the most beautiful people you’d laid your eyes on he was also the sweetest. Bucky was nothing but a gentleman and with a pure and soft heart and if you didn’t get your shit together and control the way he made you weak in the knees-
“Not the same ladies man I was in the 40′s doll” He chuckled, blue eyes sparkling at your compliment, “Either way, I got myself into a mess with that” He smiled sheepishly while you cocked your head, urging him to continue. 
“Well, I sort of lied to get him off my case” Bucky blushed, rubbing the back of his head, his the pink on his cheeks deepening at your cheeky smile. “I-I told him I already have a girlfriend but as you can see-” Bucky waved into his empty apartment that showed no signs of human life, “-it back fired immediately because he's invited my nonexistent girlfriend to a cookout this weekend. In Louisiana. With all his family. And friends”
Bucky let his head hit the wall with a dull thump, cursing himself for putting a foot in his mouth. Sure he could just come clean and say he lied. But that would mean admitting he lied and that was worse because then Sam would give him shit for that, plus try to get him out more and- 
“What if- what if I went with you?” Bucky’s head shot up, blinking in surprise at your words, wondering if he heard you correctly. “I could pretend to be your girlfriend for a day, get Cap off your case. Only if you’re comfortable with it though”
“Really? You’d do that?” You giggled at his lost puppy expression, his eyes lighting up when he realized you were being serious.
“Of course” You smiled sincerely,  “I’d be happy to! Just let me know what time to be ready at and I’ll be all yours” 
All his.  
The little boy in his was running around in circles, his heart beating too fast for the rest of his body to keep up. The thought of you being his girlfriend for a day was more than he could ever dream of. Of course it was only pretend and he’d wouldn’t dare push for more; not when you deserved the world. At the very least, he wouldn’t have to deal with Sam’s nagging. 
Problem solved. 
*****
This was a bad idea. 
A bad, bad idea. 
Bucky had gone through at least 4 outfits, debating between an array of Henley’s, before settling on a blue one when he remembered you complimented it because it was blue like his eyes. He picked up his razor and then immediately put it down when he remembered you once said you liked the scruff on him.  Even if this was just pretend, every single part of him was on edge as if this were a real date. As soon as his enhanced hearing picked up your soft footsteps padding down the hall, he was right by the door, nervously chewing his lip. 
Bucky blinked, his heart nearly giving way at 106 years old when he saw you make your way down the hall towards his apartment. You were in a flowery sundress, with a large cakebox in hand, your sweet perfume already making him dizzy. If Sam didn’t kill him for lying, the crush he had on you would be the next thing to take him out. 
"You-you look beautiful"  And sweet. And adorable. And delectable. 
An angel.
You looked like an angel. 
"Thank you, you look good too Sarge" You looked down at Bucky’s chest instead of meeting his eyes, unable to look at his pretty face. His adorable face. Handsome face. That dimple on his chin. Blue eyes. Pink lips. Fuck, you had such a big crush on him. 
It was going to be an interesting day. 
*****
Bucky parked the car at Sam’s place, which wasn’t too far from the lake where everyone had gathered. Part of him was almost sad they had made it on time; the car ride over with you ending faster than he’d liked.  
“He wasn’t kidding when he said he only invited family” Bucky snorted, seeing all of Sam’s relatives there along with his closest neighbors, many of whom he’d met before. He took the cakebox from you, slipping his hand into yours, smiling when you gave him a reassuring squeeze. You both made your way over, hand in hand, your heart skipping a beat each time someone greeted Bucky, every single person over joyed that he’d finally met someone to call his. 
He made his way over to the grill where Sam filliped a few burgers; the new Cap grinning when he saw you both. There was no missing the sparkle in his eyes when he looked down to your hand in Bucky’s, noting you were was holding his metal one, no longer covered by gloves. 
Interesting. 
“You’re lookin’ good” Sam wiggled his eyebrows at Bucky, loving the way the soldier rolled his eyes, trying to brush off the way his cheeks were dusted pink. 
“This is y/n, my girlfriend” Girlfriend. Bucky loved the way it rolled off his tongue with ease, not feeling an ounce of hesitance. The word previously feeling so foreign to him now felt so natural when he had you by his side. And holding your hand. And hearing your laugh. And-
Relax Bucky, it’s just for a day. 
“I’m Sam, and it’s very nice to meet you” He pulled you into a hug, still curiously eyeing Bucky, genuinely unable to figure out where he’d managed to find a sweetheart like you. 
“Thank you for the invite” you giggled as he gave you a light squeeze before letting you go, inspecting the cakebox Bucky handed to him. He grinned at the fresh strawberries that decorated the cake, shamelessly plucking one off and popping it into his mouth. “Strawberry shortcake. A little white wolf told me it was your favorite” 
“Well if the big bad wolf likes you then I like you cause he doesn’t like anybody. You must be special” Sam mused, a part of him wanting to be skeptical but there was nothing, absolutely nothing made up about the Bucky was looking at you. He gazed down at you as if you’d hung the moon and stars right in his room, an utterly lovesick puppy. You felt your cheeks heat up, burying your face into Bucky’s side while he chuckled, pulling you closer to him and pressing a kiss on top of your head. Damn right, she’s special. 
You both made your way over to mingle with the rest of the crowd, have no trouble at all playing the role of an utterly in love boyfriend and girlfriend. Bucky didn’t miss a single chance to press little kisses on your cheeks, every so often pecking your nose. His hand never left your waist, always holding you close to him, his face occasionally buried into the crook of your neck. 
You played your part almost better than he did, gushing over what a gentleman he always was to you, stayed tucked by his side, nuzzling under his chin, occasionally actually getting lost in his soft scent of laundry detergent, his cologne and something distinctly him. You made the elderly ladies giggle and blush each time Bucky did something adorable, proudly showing you off to everyone. 
He didn’t even let you eat without being the most perfect doting boyfriend. You’d both served your plates, finding a nice spot to sit under a shady tree; Bucky sat on the large lawn chair, secretly happy there was only one. You were about to walk off to get another when he tugged your wrist and pulling you back. 
“C’mere, I wont bite” Bucky grinned, surprised with himself as he pulled you onto his lap with ease. You let out a squeak, your nose bumping against his as you plopped onto him, lips nearly brushing his. 
“Smooth, Barnes. Remind me again, how you don’t have a girlfriend” You let out a breathless laugh, screaming to yourself on the inside that this was fake. He was playing the role perfectly, that was all. So fucking perfectly. 
Why was he so perfect. 
Bucky smirked, kissing your shoulder, letting you relax against his chest, wondering if you’d feel his heart hammering against his ribcage from how flustered he actually was. He easily maneuvered you so you sat comfortably across his thighs, his arm still securely around your waist. 
When was he ever this smooth. 
If anyone else was this close, he’s run for the hills, but now he was contemplating tossing you over his shoulder and running to Sam’s house, the guest bedroom was upstairs and two doors to the right-
“Well I’ll be damned, he really does have a girlfriend” Sam shook his head while Joaquin snorted, both men looking at you and Bucky with heart eyes while they sipping their beers from the docks. 
“You think they’re faking?” Joaquin nudged Sam’s shoulder, watching Bucky now fed you a piece of cake, still keeping you on his lap, sneakily kissing the cream from the corner off your lips between bites. You’d giggle every time, feeding him a strawberry, squealing when he’s playfully bite your fingers. 
“You can fake a lot of things but not the way he’d blushing and giggling like a toddler in a candy store” Bucky played with your fingers, intertwining them with his hand, his nose scrunching as he laughed at something you said. 
“It’s nice to see him like this” Joaquin had seen grumpy Bucky, grouchy Bucky, angry Bucky, scary Bucky, sleepy Bucky, just about every Bucky on the planet, but this? This was a first. Love struck Bucky. Charming Bucky. Happy Bucky. Simpy Bucky. Sappy Bucky. Giggly Bucky. Playful biting Bucky. Ready to get down on one knee if you’d let him, Bucky. 
“Steve always said he was a charmer, he wasn’t lying”
They couldn’t take their eyes off the way the corner of Bucky’s eyes crinkled each time he smiled or the way you’d instinctively lean into him when he spoke. He’d tuck your hair away from your face, his hands lingering on your cheek for a second longer, giving them a glimpse of the man from the 40′s before the war,  youthful and innocent, his heart full of hope, a smirk that would make his best girl swoon; the both of you in your own little world. 
“He looks happy”
Sam had seen people look happy before. They’d smile but their eyes would be empty. They’d laugh but their voices were hollow. They’d look like they were on top of the world while sitting at rock bottom. The way Bucky’s eyes sparkled, his boyish laugh, the way he’d nuzzle into you, trying to be closer to you than physically possible, was more than just looking happy. 
“He is happy”
Bucky had completely forgotten about pretending with you, lost in how perfectly you fit in his arms. You had taken up your role very seriously, telling him how utterly handsome he was, never missing moment to peck his scruffy cheek or card your fingers through his short soft locks. You intertwined you fingers with his vibrainium ones, busing your lips against his cool knuckles. 
At some point in the afternoon, he’d slipped his jacket off and wrapped you up with it as evening crept around the corner. Not a single person doubted the nature of your relationship; at least four of Sam’s uncles had told Bucky to propose soon. 
You don’t meet a girl who makes you this damn giggly just anywhere, Sergeant. Hold onto her. 
****
Just when he thought he couldn’t fall for you more, you had fallen asleep in his arms, contently snuggled up in his jacket as the sunset over the lake. Most of Sam’s family had gone back home, a few close relatives still hanging around the boat, sipping on coffee. Bucky couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you, softly kissing your forehead; he could get used to this. Cuddling up with you after date nights. Hearing your laugh. The softness of your lips. The way your hand always found itself in his metal one without hesitation. 
Fuck he wished this was real. 
You stirred slightly, a content sigh slipping past your lips at the feel of his kiss. Nothing felt more comfy than being wrapped up by the super soldier, his solid arms holding you close. You didn’t want to wake up, wishing you could sleep forever if it meant you’d be this close to Bucky all the time. The day felt like a dream; the exact dreams you had when you thought about your sweet neighbor. How it’d be for him to call you yours. To Be his girl. To make him smile. To make him laugh. 
If only it wasn’t just for a day. 
“You have a nice nap, baby?” Bucky smirked as you blinked awake, stretching on his lap like a cat before snuggling against him again. “My pretty girl” 
“Why wouldn’t I when my boyfriend is the comfiest spot to sleep on?” You teased, bringing your hand up to toy with the chain of his dog tags. Bucky chuckled, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes, kissing your nose. There was no one around you both, though neither of you seemed interesting in dropping the act just yet. 
“You fit perfectly here, doll” He grinned, blushing when he hesitantly pulled you a little closer, your arms moving to wrap around his shoulders, resting on the back of his neck. 
“I think I like it here” You sucked in a breath as he rested his forehead against yours, bringing his hand to cup your cheek. His nose gently bumped against yours, his warm breath tickling your lips. 
“Me too” He closed the gap between you both, pressing his lips to yours sweetly, savoring every bit of your softness. He couldn’t help but deepen the kiss as you parted your mouth letting his tongue lace with yours while your hand made its way through his hair, tugging on his short locks. Bucky let out a groan, letting his hands drop to your waist, kissing you for as long as he could until you both needed oxygen. 
“Maybe we can pretend for a little longer?” Bucky broke away, panting, his forehead still pressed against yours. You giggled between breaths, peppering kisses across his face. 
“Just a little longer?” 
“Maybe- maybe forever?” He looked at you with his classic puppy eyes, his heart bursting when you pulled him in for another kiss; forever. Forever sounded good. 
A few years later
“So, you finally gonna admit I made this happen?” Sam whispered while Bucky snorted, shaking his head. 
“Not gonna happen” 
“C’mon, I made this happen, I caused this” 
“You caused chaos” 
Sam scoffed in fake offence, taking a sleepy Becca from Bucky’s arms while the soldier went to go check on you. “Now when do I get to meet my second God child?”
“In a few hours” Bucky stretched before making his way back to your room, smiling at your resting form. He carefully laid down beside you, letting his hand splay across your tummy; in just a few more hours there would be a little Samuel Grant Barnes in the world. 
“We’re really good at pretending” You murmured, make Bucky chuckle, taking your hand in his and kissing the ring that sat on your finger. 
“Maybe just one more baby after this? Really convince them, Mrs. Barnes?”
*
“Uncle Sam, tell me a bedtime story?” Becca pouted, having been at the hospital for hours, giving Sam the exact same face Bucky gave you. Her little bottom lip jutting out, big (y/c/e) eyes blinking up at him. He grinned, settling her on his lap before he made a thinking face before asking what she’d want to hear. 
“What kinda story, Beccs, an animal story, a super cool falcon story or Captain America story or a flying Falcon Captain America story?” 
“The chaos daddy said you caused” She giggled while Sam nodded, taking a deep breath before starting. 
“It all started when your daddy said he had a girlfriend...”
Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie​ @geeky-politics-46​ @lolawassad​ @almosttoopizza​ @a-poor-gryffindork​ @alternativeprincess​ @buckycallsmeaslut​ @kamaria-sweet-writes​ @charmedbysarge​ @xnorthstar3x​ @kryoee7​ @alina02​ @gh0stgurl​ @polishprincess999​ @jessybarnes​ @alltheficsiwant​ @chemtrails-club​ @eralen​ @perdidosbucky-yyo​ @clqrosmgc​  
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panqueen · 3 months
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☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾
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Oneshot Story: Bucky Barnes x Fem Reader.
Story Name: Across The Hall
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Bucky walks through his apartment groaning at the sunlight shining through the cracks in the curtains.
He falls onto the couch with a huff rubbing his tired eyes from the night terror filled sleepless night he had.
He leans his head back resting it on the back of the couch closing his eyes to ease the growing migraine.
Deciding to get up he walks towards his small bookshelf in the corner of the room grabbing a book from his favourite series (The Hobbit) and sits back onto the couch continuing to read from where he left off last time he was up all night avoiding falling back into his nightmare filled dreams.
His eyes are skimming over the page when he feels something nudging his arm away from the book.
“Alpine I’m trying to read” Bucky sighs smiling down at the white cat who’s already looking up at him.
“Alright, alright”
Bucky chuckles petting the top of the cats head.
He settles back into the couch reading his book again when he hears someone walk past his door, his whole body freezes and a visible panic rushes over his face.
Did they find me?
Who’s out there?
Can I get out in enough time?
His mind races over the possibilities until he hears a familiar soft voice laughing and talking to someone.
“Yes I’ll call you back, I know” the voice laughs.
Bucky’s heartbeat picks up hearing the laugh of the woman who has lived across the hall from him for months. Despite wanting to have talked to her he always refrained from it in fears of scaring her because of his past and what he’s known for.
Living in the modern age has been difficult for him especially when so many things have changed and not knowing anyone else except for his grumpy therapist and annoying friend Sam who he would never admit to being friends with when asked. After his therapist recommended having a pet to keep him company he reluctantly got his cat Alpine who he loves dearly even if she can be mischievous.
Bucky’s so lost in thought staring at his opened book to hear the creak of his front door while Alpine sneaks out of the door and into the hallway.
Alpine walks across the hallway into the opened door apartment across from Bucky’s apartment while the owner of the apartment Y/n is juggling bags of groceries into the apartment not noticing the small white cat laying in her doorway to the apartment.
Y/n puts down the groceries onto the kitchen counter looking into the bags putting the items away forgetting about her open door when she hears a meow. She lifts her head looking around her apartment confused until she notices the opened door.
She walks over about to close the door when she notices the small white cat looking up at her meowing.
“Oh hello little one” Y/n bends down petting the cat smiling.
“Alpine!”
Y/n looks up locking eyes with the tall brunette man who lives across the hall from her.
“This must be Alpine?” Y/n smiles at him than looking down at the cat.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about this” Bucky smiles nervously at her.
“I’m Y/n” Y/n smiles at him reaching her hand out for him to shake.
Bucky’s eyes widen slightly with worry and insecurity. She raised the hand that would have to shake his metal arm.
He reluctantly shakes her hand and looks up expecting a scared look on her face but he only sees a smile that makes his heart race.
“Sorry again about Alpine she learned how to open door knobs recently” Bucky scratches the back of his neck nervously.
Y/n smiles nodding at him bending down to Alpine and petting the purring cat.
“You’re a smart girl aren’t you?” Y/n smiles at the cat.
“She wasn’t any trouble just saying hi”
Y/n assures Bucky smiling at him.
“Well I should get back in my apartment I have unpacked groceries in there” Y/n points behind her at her apartment.
“Yeah I should bring her back” Bucky leans down picking up Alpine into his arms.
“It was nice meeting you Bucky” Y/n smiles at him turning to walk into her apartment.
Bucky nods turning to walk into his apartment when his therapists words echo in his head.
“James you have to take chances if you want something good to happen”
“The worst that woman across the hall could say is no”
Bucky sighs walking into his apartment putting Alpine onto the floor watching as she walks away. He rubs his face feeling the nerves setting in walking over to the door shutting it.
After an hour of Bucky pacing around the room thinking about all of the possible scenarios in his head he decides to take a chance.
He opens his apartment door walking across the hall and taking a deep breath knocking on Y/n’s door.
Y/n opens the door with a smile when she recognizes who it is.
“Hi Bucky” she greets him.
“Hey Y/n” he smiles back.
“What’s up?” she asks him with confusion clear on her face.
“If you’re not busy there’s a coffee shop down the street that I go to..uh what I’m trying to ask is if you’d want to go with me for coffee?” Bucky smiles nervously at her shuffling on his feet.
“I’d love to, when?” Y/n smiles up at him.
“Oh, uh we could go now if you’re not busy” he suggests feeling the nerves coming back at the possibility of being rejected.
“Sure I’ll just grab my coat” she smiles at him walking into the apartment quickly returning wearing her coat with a smile on her face.
Bucky and Y/n walk down the street in a comfortable silence hearing the sounds of the city surrounding them.
Bucky takes a breath and takes a chance grabbing Y/n’s hand and intertwining their fingers. He feels his panic melt when she squeezes his hand smiling up at him.
Bucky is definitely going to get all the treats Alpine wants after he gets back for leading him to his across the hall neighbour.
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Hope you liked it ♡
Here’s my Wattpad account name if you’re interested: Graywrites06_
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fizzyxcustard · 1 year
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One More White Hair.
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Masterlist of fan fiction
Fandom: The Hobbit
Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader (human)
Warnings: ANGST! Insecurity, mutual pining, fluff.
Summary: From the imagine, "Imagine that Thorin is in love with you but won't let on as he believes he's an old man and is no good for you'.
Comments: Requested by two anons and @lemond57 Thank you to everyone who voted in the poll regarding when this fic should be set. The majority asked for post Quest. We also get a bit of match-maker Dis. So, enjoy!
As always, if you like the story, please consider a reblog. It really does help. If you would like to be added to any of my story tag lists, or my Follow Forever tag list (where you’re tagged in everything) then please let me know.
Thorin sighed as he stood in front of his full length dress mirror. He was sure that another grey hair had appeared overnight. It shone silver as it wove through his braid. Each hair was a reminder of all those years that he was ahead of you. But nothing could stop his heart wanting you as much as it did. By human years you were in your prime of life, at your peak. Thorin felt as though he was now deflated, crumbling away as he approached his second century. Surely if he had met you all those years ago when he was young, and his hair was black and his skin free of blemish, you would have fallen for him. The scars which littered his body acted as a map of all the wars he had participated in. Each blemish was a sign of his experience. Your skin was still unmarked, unbroken. So much innocence.
That evening would be your weekly dinner with Thorin, the rest of his court advisers and Dis. Since being part of the King's Company only a few months prior, Thorin had made sure you now had a home, security and position. You remembered your first day at council, all eyes were on you. No one of the race of Men had ever taken a seat on Dwarf council. However, as time passed, you had gradually found your place. Dwalin and Balin had welcomed you immediately, having been two of your traveling companions.
In your bedchamber and you began pushing through the clothing which hung in your wardrobe. Dresses, tunics, shawls, cloaks, robes. One dress sat at the end of the line of clothing: it was the dress that Thorin had gifted you upon moving into your bedchamber. It was deep, midnight blue. Dresses always made you feel insecure, as if unwanted attention would be drawn to you and mockery would be shown. And this one had been no exception, until now. You picked it up and draped it over your arm. Something hit you, a revelation... it was the same colour that Thorin always wore. Had this been a simple coincidence? Probably. You highly doubted that Thorin would have thought that deeply into such a thing as this.
With a sigh, you shifted away and began to dress for the occasion.
Thorin was first in the hall, sitting at the head of the table. And gradually everyone began to appear, filling up the seats around the long table. Wine and ale was on hand, plenty to keep everyone merry.
You sat at the far end of the table, next to Balin. First off, you placed a napkin into your lap, preparing for the meal. Then you looked up and noticed Thorin glancing at his own reflection in a goblet. Why did he do this so often? Was he becoming vain?
Thorin sighed and looked over toward you, noticing that you had your gaze in your lap. But his heart hammered in anxiety and delight at the sight of you wearing the dress. It looked just as he had imagined; it was a snug fit and showed off your curves beautifully.
Balin smirked to himself as he noticed Thorin watching you. It had become known within the main circle of advisers that Thorin had his eye on you. However, you remained oblivious to the fact.
The evening went as it normally did: eating, drinking and plenty of chatter.
You noticed that Dis kept whispering to Thorin, nudging him. But his face would then contort and grow angry, until finally he hissed something at her and she crossed her arms in frustration. "I think you take the stubbornness of Dwarves to a whole new level!" Dis exclaimed.
"Enough!" Thorin bellowed.
Everyone stared for a second at the King and his sister, then shifted their nervous gazes elsewhere.
"Umm, we'll begin taking our plates to the kitchens," you proposed, feeling awkward. The rest of the table, apart from Thorin and Dis, muttered in agreement and grabbed their plates and cutlery, hurrying to the kitchen, which was just out of the hall.
Thorin and Dis remained sat down, almost side by side.
"Thorin, I'm being serious, you need to tell her," Dis said, her voice soft but firm. "You've given everything for this kingdom, for our people. You deserve some happiness. I see the way you look at each other."
"Dis!" Thorin warned.
"You think the fact you're older than her makes a difference. It doesn't."
"Look at me!" Thorin exclaimed. "I'm an old man. What kind of woman would want..."
"She would," Dis replied. "Trust me. You've got nothing to lose here, Thorin, and everything to gain. Just talk to her."
Thorin sighed and smiled weakly at Dis. "I shall."
As the guests of Thorin's dinner began to disperse, he called you back. "Can I talk with you privately?" he asked.
Dis smiled to herself and winked at Thorin as she disappeared out of the main double doors.
"Of course," you said. You sat down at the table where Dis had been sat. "You look worried. What's bothering you?" The set of his face seemed to be that of anguish. Did this relate to his outburst earlier?
Thorin blinked hard and looked down at the table.
You reached across and took his hand. "You've put your faith and trust in me this far, please do not stop now."
"I..." Thorin began, his silver blue eyes locked with your gaze. "I love you."
You gasped, unable to hold back your shock at this. "You...you..."
"I love you," he said again. "But I'm old, and while I know my sister means well, she doesn't see the years on my face that I do. Every time I look in the mirror, I see one more white hair. My body is littered with scars. I should not be yearning for you the way I do...."
You gripped his hand tighter, your thumb caressing his. "You're not old. You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen."
"What?"
You smiled as you saw his eyes widen in shock. "I mean it. You are. You might be older than me, Thorin, but I never see your age. I just see a beautiful man who I would never have any chance with."
Thorin chuckled. "You're very wrong in your estimation of chances."
You brushed your hand through his long locks, still smiling as you did so. "These white hairs just add to how handsome you are, you know?"
"You are trying to flatter me now..."
"No, I'm speaking the truth. I'd never speak anything but truth to you. I've seen you look at your own reflection so many times, and I kept wondering if you were growing vain."
Both of you couldn't help but laugh.
Thorin cupped your cheek with his hand. "It felt like with each new white hair you were growing further and further away from me."
"Never," you whispered, and leaned in for a kiss.
***
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ofstardustanddreaming · 6 months
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comforting ways
preference summary: one way they comfort you when you're sad.
content warnings: none
fandom: the hobbit
characters: bilbo, tauriel, thorin, fili, kili, dwalin, bofur, thranduil
gender neutral reader
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Bilbo: He knew you had been missing home along the journey, and tried his best to cheer you up. He would pick flowers that reminded him of you, he would talk with you under the starry sky next to the warm fire. He wanted to keep your mind off of things, but if it also meant being a shoulder to cry on while you did want to think about home. He's a sweetheart about your sadness, he also understands missing home, so he'll give you stories to help with relatability.
Tauriel: She would take a walk with you around the palace gardens if she wasn't on duty. She would listen intently while you talk about what it was that was on your mind. She would hold your hand lightly, rubbing soothing circles into the back of it. She would offer suggestions if that was what you were looking for, or she would offer words of comfort. Once you've gotten most of your sadness out into the world, she'll pull you in for a small kiss to try and get the rest of it.
Thorin: He would move the stars and sky if he could, to make you happy. He's more a man of action than comforting words. He would wrap his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead. It doesn't mean he wouldn't add some words of comfort, mostly whispering I love you's and Go ahead, I've got you as you let your emotions go into his shoulder, whether it's crying or quietly venting. He's just better at listening, and providing a physical comfort.
Fili: He was a mix of sweet words and soft jokes. He wanted to show you he was a reliable, safe person to come to when you're sad, and he'll do sweet things for you. He'll make you something warm, or wrap you up in something warm as well. He'll play with your hair, and lets you lie down on his lap while lightly stroking your side. He knows that sometimes silence, with the occasional words, with another person in the room is all it takes to ease the pain in your heart, little by little.
Kili: He would hate to see you sad, wanting to take the pain of your sadness himself. He would crack jokes, giving you his best puppy dog eyes to not be so sad. When he sees you crack a small smile, he feels relieved. He knows that sometimes your mind needs to be taken off of whatever topic it was on, but then he'll listen to what it is you want to talk about if it's what's needed. He'll plant small kisses around your shoulders and head as you talked, to remind you he was there.
Dwalin: He's a man of few words and more action as well, like Thorin. He is a little unsure at first though, what he should do to comfort. He'll sit silently near you, hovering, wanting to let you know he was there for you however you needed him to be. When you look up at him, wanting his comfort in the way you wanted, he wouldn't hesitate in getting closer and pulling you in tight. He was gentle with his hugs, but he made sure that you knew he would always be there for you.
Bofur: He would break into some soft songs, or hum, while having you leaned up against him to feel the vibrations. He would eventually get carried away, leading to a whole dance routine, and it would make you feel better with his happy approach to a lot of situations. He would pull you in afterwards, wondering how else he could help ease your sadness, and would do what it is you wanted. Whether it was hearing stories of the journey, or talking through your sadness.
Thranduil: He would check you all over, to make sure it wasn't an injury, feeling more secure in taking away a physical injury than an inner feeling of sadness. He has a harder time with emotion, but he's gotten better when fretting and constantly asking if you were doing any better. He would eventually calm down, realizing what you want is just him holding you and giving you comforting words. He would draw a bath, to help you feel more comforted from the heat as well.
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itsonlydana · 18 days
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"passenger princess" | chapter six
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the hobbit | a modern!AU by itsonlydana
❱ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader
❱ wordcount: 4,9k
❱ summary: a horror movie, 'your dad jokes' and overcoming the fear of being vulnerable by opening up
❱ warnings: mature language
❱ an: we're back on schedule! Anyone got the reference with the documentary?🤭
general m.list + series m.list
🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot - especially with longer projects <3
CHAPTER SIX: MOVIE
It was movie night and once again you found yourself sitting on the giant sofa, a glass of wine cradled between your hands as you watched Legolas and Aragorn argue over what to watch.
It was amusing, really, to simply sit back and observe how both completely missed the fact they could be on the same page if they weren't blinded by the urge to please the other.
While Legolas was trying his hardest to convince Aragorn you didn't have to watch another romcom and he would much rather try to understand that one French art film Aragorn studied in his poetry class, the brunette was keen on rewatching Mean Girls for Legolas.
They seemed to have forgotten you were there to be included in the discussion.
Feet burrowed into the cushions under you you sipped on the wine that Thranduil brought out to the pool two days ago.
Every sip brought the scent of sunscreen and the warm rays of sunshine back to you on this rainy evening.
Your gaze trailed to the floor-to-ceiling windows next to the sofa, right outside to where the pool was illuminated by lanterns and laid undisturbed except for the raindrops splattering onto the surface.
Thinking back to that day, you felt a heat creeping into your cheeks that not only came from the wine.
You had no idea what had been the push into the decision but when Thranduil had joined you in the pool, he had joined you. Not just sitting at the edge or watching you from the shadow of the terrace.
He'd come outside and immediately shed himself from his shirt and trousers, leaving you to a close death with every layer of fabric removed and every bit of light skin revealed.
You nearly had a heart attack at the sight of his upper body and the lean muscles you had known were there, but never had the pleasure –and oh, it truly was a fucking pleasure– to see in all their glory.
Thranduils shoulders were broad, yet fit his form and the adonis belt that accentuated his –must be said– slender waist.
The sentiment that no man his age should be allowed to be this good-looking extended to include all men or women no matter the age. It made little sense to you that this man looked like that at his age when you knew full well that he didn't exercise.
He had a body to fantasize about, and you gladly did.
"What do you say?" Aragorn called to you from the other end of the couch, where he was rubbing his temple, "Tell Legolas I really don't mind watching whatever he chooses."
"Oh, you remembered I'm still here?" you asked while Legolas gasped and clicked his tongue in annoyance, "Yes, but you shouldn't not mind, you should enjoy the movie as well!"
"Legolas, I mean it. It's alright if we watch Mean Girls!"
"Woah, pause!" you took another sip and swiped the air with the other hand. "You two have been so insufferable ever since you did it. Can we go back to pining but without all the.. you know, back bending for just a movie?"
It shut them up, maybe they thought you hadn't noticed them sneaking off together or whatever the reason was, you were glad for the momentary silence.
"Let's just do the 'surprise me' thingy and no one will be truly happy, alright?"
No idea when you'd become the voice of reason but both nodded in agreement, sparing shy smiles to each other that said more apologies than Legolas had ever given to you in words, for the evenings you had to watch his choice of movie.
Love could really change a person.
"Fine," Legolas threw his long legs into movement, walked to the cabinets next to the flatscreen, and grabbed the remote. "Next time we–"
"We'll have the same discussion over and over again," Aragorn added.
"You're disgusting," you pretended to gag, heaving your chest for dramatic effect, "Finishing each other's sentences is so cringe."
"Using cringe in a sentence is cringe."
"Shut up and dim the lights, Las. Please down to the level that's in your head, alright?" You smiled angelicly, cheeks hurting from the effort though it was all worth it at Legolas scowl when he tried to fish for a response but ended up silently muttering under his breath and turning the lights off.
Engulfed in near darkness you only saw his lanky figure reach for something on the incliner next to the sofa before a cushion flew toward you with a scarily accuracy.
Wouldn't you have leaned to the side because you wanted to place the glass onto the coffee table, there would've been an accident for sure.
"Legolas you fucking idiot," you swore, already grabbing the cushion that hit your back. "Do you want another wine-stain incident?"
The wine-stain-incident of last year went down in history as the biggest argument this house had ever seen.
Legolas and Thranduil had been arguing like never before, snapping at each other back and forth for days over red wine spilled over the newly bought designer sofa cushions.
It went so far that Legolas camped at your dorm for a whole weekend, clearing out your fridge and complaining that his Ada was up his ass for an accident he didn't even remember.
After three days of coming home from work and seeing Legolas sulk on your bed, the thing that pushed your patience over the edge had been one night when the blonde couldn't sleep and decided that your bed was big enough for him to cuddle you; big surprise: it wasn't.
Nothing was big enough in the tin can of a dorm.
"So what?" Legolas fell onto the sofa next to Aragorn, giving you plenty of space to spread out on your half, "I'm just gonna tell him it was you again. Nothing's gonna happen then."
"You're a wicked man, Las," Aragorn said. Legolas grinned.
You snorted. "Sure, if you want your ass handed to you. Don't think it's going to work twice."
"Oh no, it will." Legolas raised an eyebrow much similar to his father, "Just like last time his anger will go up in the smoke the second he sees you and then–" he cooed in a very over-the-top imitation of Thranduil, "–no no no, it's alright! I hated the sofa anyways.. what? It's new? Doesn't matter, I'll buy a new one, babe."
"He doesn't sound like that and it wasn't like that!" you complained.
It had been exactly like that.
"It kinda was," Aragorn chimed in and received a smile (Legolas) and an angry huff (you).
Legolas tapped away on the remote, lightning up the living room as the flatscreen showed the last thing that had been watched.
Some nature documentary that, in the small second Legolas gave you before opening up the streaming app, seemed to be about whales and crocodiles.
Thranduils taste in movies was everything Legolas didn't enjoy: docus with long biology conversations, silent black and white classics or, his guilty pleasure, fake jury shows where he would point out where they went wrong or how inaccurate the case was.
You adored how he would sit on the sofa wearing his slim glasses and pretend he wasn't interested in the drama at all.
"Alright," Legolas said and pressed a button for the random movie.
"By the way," you said hushed, "He doesn't call me babe. Your father calls me sweetheart or darling, which is completely different and so much more endearing in my opinion."
Aragorn let out a loud breath and leaned over to rub Legolas' shoulder. "Wow, that was basically a 'your mom' joke, although much more eloquent. Hope you're alright."
"He will survive," you waved off, "It's not like I told him how he–"
"No, I actually don't want to hear that!" Legolas interrupted you loudly and turned up the sound of the TV, shutting down every remark that could've followed by the loud boom that cracked through the surround system like thunder.
You didn't need to read the title of the movie, that the first scene was a first-person shot of someone running through the woods at night and the only sound was their breathing and the snapping of twigs was telling you exactly what you were in for.
"Sorry," Legolas said before you even opened your mouth, grinning over at you in the moonshine light of the movie, "No take backsies for any insults just because you don't wanna watch horror!"
"But–"
"No no, no buts."
"You're so mean," Aragorn said to Legolas, but nevertheless grabbed one of the blankets beside him and threw it toward you, "Here, to protect you from any murderers."
You stuck out your tongue at him and yanked the blanket over.
Horror, was by far, the worst outcome of the random selection.
Everything else would've been fine, hell, even a compilation of every time you'd embarrassed yourself in front of Thranduil could be an easier watch than an hour.. oh well two hours of jumpscares.
"You'll be fine," Legolas was already munching on the popcorn he'd prepared earlier, throwing the golden snack into his open mouth and –naturally– not missing a single piece.
It was infuriating how talented he was in some aspects.
"Just don't look to your left and imagine the killer's waiting for you behind the trees."
"I hate you so much."
As expected, the blanket provided little comfort as the movie progressed and whenever you glanced over to Aragorn and Legolas, you could see them whispering together, quietly laughing over the dumb decisions the main character made.
So unfair they had fun while you suffered.
The scenes got even worse the longer you watched, tension sharpening like the knives you saw on screen, flashing in and out as the killer sneaked through the woods. The wind outside as well as inside screamed like a boiling kettle, rattling as the storm picked up and hammered the wind against the window.
There were creaks and echoes everywhere.
Every hair on your body stood up, an electrifying rush of adrenalin cursing through your body and having you cling to the blanket in an attempt to shield yourself.
It came out of nowhere.
The sound of a door opening and immediately shutting close with a bang loud enough that you let out a scream like your life depended on it.
It led to Legolas joining in, yelling in surprise and as he turned around to stare into the dark kitchen, the popcorn flew everywhere.
There, looming in the doorframe was a tall figure, dripping water and looking extremely haunted by the white flashes of the screen illuminating long wet hair and hauntingly sharp cheekbones.
"Oh my fucking god.. fuck! Fuck this shit," you gasped for air, inhaling one breath after the other until you were nearly dizzy.
"Ada, you scared the shit out of us!" Legolas quickly let go of Aragorn, whom he'd jumped the second he'd heard your scream pierce the quiet room.
"My apologies," Thranduils deep rumble sounded.. off. Strained, like the lopsided smile on his lips. "That was not my intention." He looked around, pausing at you and for a second the look on his face seemed haunted. "Please, continue. I'll be upstairs and make sure not to bother you anymore."
"Thran–" you started and rose to bend over the back of the sofa.
He stopped in his movement, haltering to nod at you, "Hi, sweetheart, excuse me for scaring you like that. You look lovely, though." And then he was already stalking back to the hallway, his wet hair clinging to his equally drenched coat.
You turned to Legolas and Aragorn, your expression communicating the confusion you felt clearly by the look of their equally unsure faces.
"Ada?" Legolas called, not looking away from you, his eyebrows drawn together.
"Yes?"
"I may have spilled wine onto the new white carpet. It was some hours ago but maybe we can fix it?" Questioningly you inclined your head, close to asking him what the fuck he was talking about, when Thranduil answered:
"Oh, no worries," –your eyes widened– "It's fine. Let's talk later."
"Well," Legolas stated as soon as you heard Thranduil walk up the stairs. "Either someone kidnapped Ada and that's someone else, or he's calculating how to murder you two for practically living here at this point."
Aragorn, sensing that this wasn't the time to continue, paused the movie. Even he was frowning.
You fell back onto your bottom, eyes flickering back to the doorway in uncertainty. "So I didn't just hallucinate that? You noticed how weird he was?"
"So weird. Maybe something happened?" Aragorn mused and started picking up the popcorn Legolas had strewn all over the place.
"Maybe he finally realized I live here rent-free as well."
You and Aragorn looked at each other. You spoke up first: "Las, the way you inhale his snacks and wine he's just ignorant of the fact. Do you have any idea what's up with him?"
Legolas shrugged, throwing one of the popcorn pieces into his mouth again. "Not the slightest. Haven't seen him like that since.. oh–", he paused, grimacing like he tasted something sour.
"What?" Next to him, Aragorn took away another lint-covered popcorn before he could eat that as well.
Suddenly, Legolas seemed sheepish, his gaze scattering everywhere except you which you immediately noticed.
"Legolas, since when?"
"'S probably doesn't matter," he mumbled, his face turning a traitorous reddish shade that reached the top of his pointy ears.
"You're lying," you detected, not trying to hide the sharp edge in your voice. This was quickly escalating, moving far beyond a simple discussion over what movie to watch. "What's going on? He's never like that… at all. He looked like he'd run over someone!"
"Love," Aragorn tried softly, but you were already too busy staring at Legolas to notice.
"You really want to know?" Legolas asked, the blanket he and Aragorn were under clutched into his fists. "I'll tell you but don't, and I mean it, don't zero in on that. This could be different, like completely." After your nod and a look over his shoulder to check that Thranduil wasn't creeping through the hallway with an axe, he continued:
"Y'know my mother left him, right?"
As soon as he mentioned her, you grew wearily. "Yes–"
"So she left when I was still a baby, like no worries he's fine with it and I'm fine with it and we were alright. He kinda knew it would happen, she was around but never there. He was the one giving up half of his firm so that he could work less and mostly from home. She just.. didn't change at all and when she was gone, Ada wasn't surprised."
You knew the story, it was one of those things Legolas had shared with you under the confined comfort of the blanket of the night and his bed.
"Uhm.. yeah, I don't know how to tell you this but she came back once."
The world swayed, ripping open right in front of you and you felt yourself tumbling, one foot over the edge of that darkness this statement had dunked your head into.
"Oh," you said, immediately trying to shut down the feelings of unease and insecurity gnawing at your mind. "I mean, she's your mom?"
Legolas huffed, "Barely. Biologically yes, but even then one could argue I'm Ada's clone." He grew serious again, his long fingers tapping the arm he'd thrown over his middle, "T'was like what.. nine years.. ten years ago? I was in the kitchen doing my homework when the keys turned and some woman suddenly stood in front of me that I didn't recognize but knew who she was. I kinda screamed. Ada came and when he saw her, he looked just like he looked then."
You blinked, your breathing coming in a bit faster than what you would define as 'totally fine'.
"What happened then?" Aragorn asked for you. Thankfully, because you weren't sure what to say.
"He threw her out and called someone to change the locks," Legolas said and lifted his head to stare at you, "Ada told her to go to hell or he'll sue the living shit out of her for child abandonment and whatever dirt he would find. Yes, he had the same look on his face, yes he was so fucking weird and kind of apathetic but, and listen to me; this could be a whole other thing."
"Wha– what.." you started, stumbling even over that one word, "what if it's not? Maybe he changed his opinion over time."
"Sure," he rolled his eyes but dropped the sarcasm when it did not comfort you at all, "No seriously, believe me, he doesn't want her in his, my, or our life. Not then, not now, not when you two finally figured yourselves out."
While that helped just as much as throwing a single glass of water onto a giant campfire, you nodded and put on a mask of uninterest.
Simply because it was much easier than getting into a whole discussion over feelings that may or may not be out of place.
He could've simply had a bad day at work.
"Let's just continue?" you asked, nearly begged, and were glad when Legolas and Aragorn didn't say another word but started the movie again to fill the awkward silence.
Under the blankets, you were wired.
You'd known you should've let it rest, to leave Legolas alone and maybe if that story had stayed untold, the straw just waiting to be dropped, hadn't dropped to throw your mind into a frenzy that was based on a "what if" situation you had on your hands because of a single, small interaction.
Well, it stood out and didn't fit Thranduil at all, but should you really care that much?
As Legolas said, you and he hadn't even figured out what was going on, just that there was something you both wanted to pursue.
The movie didn't fade you the slightest after the conversation, the next minutes flew past you like they didn't happen at all and when you heard Thranduil come down the stairs and walk into the kitchen, you flew from the couch.
"Be right back," you muttered as you ducked past Legolas and Aragorn; the latter brushing his hand over yours to give it a gentle squeeze.
The momentum that led to you standing up in the first place left you at the sight of Thranduil's turned back, hunched over a plate of chocolate cake Legolas had bought while shopping for snacks.
He looked so weary and tired, deep worry lines indicating his age, still attractive and even more now that he had his hair up in a bun and wore sweatpants you'd never seen him in, but yes, exhaustion was written all over his face when he turned around.
"Hi," you shuffled around, making a lame hand movement that was neither a wave nor anything else, "Should I go? No forget that, of course I'll leave you alone. Never asked, alright? Bye—"
"Stay?"
The question was soft and almost overshadowed by the squeaks of fear coming from the TV.
"I…," you started, stammering but when Thranduil held out the plate and the cake he was still shoveling into his mouth in big bites, you agreed. "Of course."
You jumped onto the counter next to him, ignoring how the sight of sweatpants, gray slightly baggy but not baggy enough sweatpants!, up close messed up every single thought swarming around your head like busy bees.
He leaned back against the counter beside you, ankles crossed and his head thunked against one of the hanging cabinets on the wall.
For a while, all you did was let Thranduil feed you bites of the cake, taking every fork he held up to your mouth carefully and swallowing the questions you wanted to ask with it.
He ate as well, lifting one bite after the other to his lips in between feeding you and every time your eyes hung onto his plush mouth.
Not because his rosy lips looked especially enticing with chocolate cream smeared into their corners, but because of the indications of his teeth in them, in the raw bitten look of them that told you there was definitely something going on.
"Hey," you nudged your leg against his side, "do you want to talk about it?"
The sigh that left his throat sounded more like the groan of a pained animal, his Adams Apple bobbing as he swallowed another bite before placing the plate on the kitchen island.
"You don't have to," you followed up in a rush, not wanting to corner him or force him.
"I should." Thranduil kicked one foot against the counter and turned his head so he looked at you.
Sitting up there, you were close enough to reach over and, in a moment of spontaneity, wipe away the chocolate on his lips.
He caught your hand, pressing a quick kiss onto your palm and keeping it in his when he dropped them.
"Yes, I should absolutely tell you," he swallowed again, "you have a right to now as someone.. as someone important in my life." The way he talked and furrowed his eyebrows showed how much energy and willpower it took him to admit that.
It meant a lot that he tried and cared about the conversation about opening up and being there, being in.
"I got a call at work today that I didn't expect and I'm still unsure what to make of it." Thranduil's hand tightened ever so slightly. His teeth once again found their place in his lower lip, dragging it back and releasing it.
"A lawyer informed me Legolas' mother wants to talk to me."
The air left your body instantly, the sentence punching you into the gut with an iron fist that had 'shouldn't have asked' imprinted on it and marking you all over.
Thranduil noticed, of course, he did, and lifted your intertwined hands for another kiss onto your knuckles.
"I told them not to bother me again," he clarified fast, "Told them ten years ago, told them now."
"Legolas told me that happened," you admitted quietly and let your head fall on top of his shoulders.
"I hope he told you that I had never any interest in keeping contact or searching that woman. I respected her choice to step away from our lives; she expressed a reluctance to embrace motherhood, and I had no authority to impose that role on her if it brought genuine discontent."
"Yes, he said that as well to comfort me."
"And I presume it did not?" Thranduil spoke forward into the otherwise empty kitchen and you followed his words with your eyes, searching the tiled floor for the courage to jump over that damn river of worries that hindered you from opening up.
He did it as well, you thought, he said you had a right to know, that you were someone important in his life.
"No," you finally acquiesced, feet firmly planted onto the metaphorical ground.
"Not the slightest. There is this woman I don't know, the mother of my best friend and the ex-partner of this man I really like and she's a total mystery and suddenly I hear she tried contacting you a few years back and now again and my mind can't help but project that she would be a much better fit to you than me."
There was a pause as the words sunk in.
Then Thranduil turned, opening up your legs with his large hands and stepping in between them.
The dimmed kitchen lights made this intimate, tension there was none for the look in his eyes spoke more of worry and his hands placing themselves under your thighs to pull you closer with effortless strength acted more out of the need to hold you than anything sexual.
"Darling," Thranduil's face filled your entire vision, the impact of the worry etched into the darker circles under his eyes hitting you square into the heart. "I can follow that train of worry and this is not me dismissing it but rather me questioning myself and my actions. Have I given you a reason to believe you're not the only one I want to spend my time with? You alone roam through my house and my head and dreams as if you own them, no one else."
You shook your head and rested your free hand on his chest, splaying your entire palm on the crimson sweater he wore, "Never. But she's probably your age and I'm... well I'm not."
"That is true. She is my age and you are not. She's also– what did Legolas say ten years ago?" He thought back, "Ah yes," he tipped his head closer, leaning his forehead against yours, "No one important. No one worth a second thought. No one, and now those are my words, that would come between you and me."
Your hands wandered, trailing up his collarbone standing out, and up his cold throat.
The hairs you brushed on his neck were still slightly wet, curling at the bottom as they slowly dried. "Then why were you this worried?"
He paused, mirroring you and cupping your face in his warmed hands, "This plagued me for different reasons. A part of me feared you would get scared and I might lose you, and the other was circling the dumb idea that Legolas could be angry that I blocked her off."
"So it was stupid of me to be jealous," you exhaled a deep breath, feeling the heavy weight being lifted of your heart as Thranduil's thumb followed the curve of your jaw and chin.
"Feelings are never stupid, they are valid in every form as long as you don't single them out or ignore your mind. And for you, that's really important because you have a really clever mind." He tapped your temple with his pointer.
A laugh escaped you, easing up the tension. "We're getting good at this," you said and nuzzled your head into his palm, "y'know, talking."
"I do feel very wise right now," Thranduils voice was airy and light, falling into that usual banter you guys were so much better at.
"Mhm, must be the age."
Where his voice had been light, his chuckle was deep and throaty, the tone rasping over every word he spoke: "My age allows for exceptional knowledge in many areas."
If you had been a maid in earlier times, that statement would've caused you to faint and even now it brought a heavy blush to your face at the directness in it.
Because you neither knew what to answer nor to do, you lightheartedly shoved him away, and while you regretted not going in for a kiss, the euphoric feeling that spread through you as he chased behind you through the kitchen made up for it.
"Come on, Grandpa," you giggled, swatting away his arm as he reached for your middle, "Use your knowledge to protect this fair maiden from the movie we're watching."
Legolas's head turned just as you entered the living room, the skeptic look on his face morphing into an understanding smile when Thranduil followed close behind you.
"Fair maiden?" he snorted, "Please, as if."
"Shut up Las," you hit his head as you passed him, nearly hitting Aragorns chest as well and wow, when did they decide that showing their affection in front of Thranduil wouldn't lead to instant death?
You settled into the cushions again, pulling Thranduil next to you.
There was a passing look between Thranduil and Legolas, where Legolas raised an eyebrow daring his father to say anything, and then between Thranduil and Aragorn, where they both nodded at each other before turning away; Thranduil to you, Aragorn to Legolas.
It was so weird, your lips curled.
Then you realized the movie was paused, the screen showing the beginning rather than the middle where you'd left.
"Noo," you whined as realization hit you, "You didn't continue!"
"Why would we? It's so much funnier if you're crying and screaming," Legolas teased and you fired a look of pure hatred at him that he reflected with an angelic smile.
Next to you, Thranduil had made himself comfortable, long legs stretched out and one arm lifted onto the cushions, giving you an encouraging nod to come closer.
You followed the invitation, huddling closer until you were nearly glued to his side and, after drawing the blanket over the both of you, his arm found its place on your hip, fingertips lifting your shirt just enough for him to feel the warmth of your stomach under his spread palm.
"Don't worry," he whispered and his nose nudged the crown of your head, "I scream much louder watching these movies. Now, Legolas, know that after this movie you're in for spilling wine again and ruining the carpet!"
"Wasn't me." Legolas tipped his chin to the wine glass next to where you'd sat when Thranduil had come home instead of telling him that there was in fact no stain or no ruined carpet.
"Oh," Thranduil's hand started circling your stomach, causing the army of butterflies in there to fly high, "then don't worry, sweetheart. I hated it anyway, ugly color, so much white. I'll buy a new one in red if you like that color that much."
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laneynoir · 11 months
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Heyyy :)
I was wondering if you could do “How long has it been since someone hugged you?” From the writing prompts, but with Y/n asking Legolas that? Cuz I thought that would be fitting ig.
I love youuu <33
I adore this idea! And of course, I've never tried to write a wedding scene before, so please don't shoot me (or do, that's your choice.)
"A month!" The cry of Gimli is met with an amused expression from the king. "Near an entire month yet you've kept us here, under no clear pretense! Only now to tell us that this elven lass is to be your bride?" Here does Gimli pause, looking to Arwen. "You are a lass? I thought Legolas was for the first week of our journy, your braids are so odd."
Laughter as soft and glowing as the stars flows from the Lady Undómiel. "Yes Lord Gimli, I seem to remember your father, Gloin, making the same mistake. Worry not though, you have not insulted me any more than you did my grandmother when you asked her favour."
"Well I for one," You break in before Gimli can start another speech on the grace of Galadriel. "Would like to be the first to offer you both congratulations. My heart sings that you should finaly be wed, I can think of no better a reward in peacetime for what you hace done for our world."
Legolas echoes your words. "Indeed, I can think of none more deserving of this union, prehaps Lord Elrond has finally decided you worthy of the sceptre of Annúminnas?" The jest is taken goodnaturedly by Aragorn, who responds with a false groan. However the comment perplexes the residant Hobbits, and it is Pippin who asks what on earth 'and you minnes' is.
A lovely smirk on her face, Arwen supplies. "When he was young, and first come to Imladrís, Aragorn was given the heirlooms of his house, save the Sceptre of Annúminnas which my father withheld until Aragorn should earn it. This supplied my brothers with a bet: for which could Aragorn earn first? Arwen or The 'shiney stick'? My father learned of this bet before, and with some vindictive pleasure enssured that Aragorn should gain both at once."
The laughter of the fellowship causes no embarrassment for the Man, he has eyes only for his beloved. "All true words, though I am afraid still that I will never truly earn your love, but I will spend the rest of my days trying."
After the others who are there offer their congradulations, Sam asks a question which has obviously been bothering him. "Begging you pardon, but who do you have making the cake? Strider hasn't introduced us to any of his family, and I was curious."
Aragorn frowns. "The... Cake? I suppose one of the cooks will provide a cake." Four gasps of horror, and one of laughter (from you) resound at the statement. "I beg your pardon, it seems we've reached a cultural differance yet again. Samwise, would you tell us of this tradition?"
Despite the faint blush on his cheeks, Sam agrees. "Cakes are very important at wedding sir! Why the very though of not having one is horrible. When a couple is joined in matrimony, the youger parent of the younger partner bakes the cake. At the wedding, the couple slices the cake which is colored on the inside, and if a bit of the blue is on the spoon, the first child will be a girl, if it's red, then the babe will be a boy."
Aragorn smiles kindly at the hobbit. "It would surly be a shame to skip such a delightful tradition, though my blood family no longer lives. If it is I would ask you to fill the task?"
Sam's face lights up in pride and delight. "It would be an honour, I promise that no pastry will ever rival the wedding cake of the first restored rulers of Gondor!"
~
The entire city seems to have accepted invitations for the wedding; people of all ages crowd around the the palace gardens (which, true to his word, Legolas has assisted in whiping into shape).Vines of deep greens creep down contrasting white stone arches, life on cold rock, hope in an empty place.
Aragorn stands under one such arch, dressed in royal garb that has caused at least two of his new subjects to swoon. His face shows nothing but calm content- at least on the surface. However to the eye of one who has traveled for high on a year with the man, and lived for his youth in Imladrís, you can see the stress in his eye.
Standing on the side of Aragorns honour guests, you send him what you hope is a comforting and encouraging smile. He inclines his head just the slightest amount, acknowledging you. His attention shifts rapidly however as a string of clear music flows from the hands of the twin elven minstrels.
As one, the congregation of men, elves, hobbits, a wizard, and dwarves alike turn to the opening in the garden wall that separates the high garden feom the battlements.
Framed against the ivy, the light of early dusk adds an ethereal effect to the Evenstar; Arwen. The dress she wears is simple at first glance, a simple white gown with green trimmings. The waves of fabric seem to float around her; her steps are so light they seem nonexistent, she takes Aragorn's hand after steping onto the slightly raised platform.
The ceremony is short, but breathtakingly beautiful. A satin cloth so pure it glows is wrapped around the Royal couple's hands. Eyes locked on the other, they resite there vows, words so heartfelt that very few eye stay dry, and when they seal the union with a passionate kiss that has a watery-eyed Elrond grimacing, the applause is deafening.
Your hands sting with how hard you clap, and you pause, eyes drawn to Legolas beside you. He wears his soft smile, the one that just barely turns the corners of his lips up, yet still makes your heart shudder. Still though, there seems to be an indescribable light in his eye, that hints at somthing hidden behind the facade of content grace and joy he usually keeps.
Curious, you stick close to your elven friend throughout the reception, and as the toasts pass, and the dancing has moved away from the consistent expectation of nobles asking gor a dance, you withdraw to a more secluded area of the brightly lit room. Your eyes wander over the sea of elegantly dressed people, searching as always for the light presance that holds your heart.
"Do you look for someone, Y/n?"
You jolt at the voice, turning happily to Legolas. "Indeed, my prince, though ive found him now." He smiles, but it looks almost... Strained. Sipping on the rosehip wine in your hand you look over the elf. He meets your gaze with the same calm as usual- at least on the surface.
Looking closer you notice the delicate crease in his brow, faint and noticeable as a small ripple on a clear, calm lake. His fingertips tap together, one after the other, each touching once, before he appears to catch himself, and the movement stops, leaving the hands tense.
His actions, and lack thereof, remind you of those before a battle, however legolas even usually did not exhibit such, not even before the throes of Mordor were washed upon you all.
"Legolas," you ask, hesitantly, "what bothers you?"
His eyes widen a moment, before his expression softens. "Nothing of any great importance. Only... I find the sounds and smells of such a large gathering almost suffocating." He says this as if it were a crime, and he were addmiting to such before a council. "Especially after so long of traveling, I have become unacustomed to life in court, and thus the stress which acompanys."
The knowledge that Legolas has been in discomfort for some time, as it draws near midnight, sets a feeling of dismay in your stomach. Straightening yourself resolutely, your snatch up his hand and weave yourself among the outskirts of the crowd.
Through an ornate door you pull Legolas into a small garden, and while the sound of sparse minsterals can be heard, the sound of talking fades into the background. "Better?" You ask, peering at Legolas.
He nods, but you have no time to admire the light in his bearing before he is bowed over your hand. "May I have this dance?"
The question startled you, but you quickly affirm your acceptance, allowing him to pull you closer, and the soft instrumental tune provides a leisurely beat to step with. You meet his eyes, and a mist covers them, so doing the natural thing you remove your hands from Legolas' own, you wrap him in an embrace.
When he stiffens, you make to pull back, but instead he tightens his grip in a way that you can feel the muckes beneath his tunic, his head nestles into the crook of your neck.
Running a hand along his spine in what you hope is an appropriately comforting motion, you feel the damp of his eyes drip onto your skin. "Oh Legolas," You trail off a deapseated sorrow filling your very soul at the inability to know what brings such display to the usually strong and lighthearted elf. "How long has it been since someone hugged you?”
"I- don't..."
At the words you gently pull him to the ground, a movement which is slightly hindered by his unwillingness to release you. When you reach a half sitting, half kneeling position, he draws back slightly. "I apologize, I-" you cut him off with a fingertip to the lips.
"Please do not let such words nor guilt fill you," you trace the line of his brow, and see the pink hue in his eye from tears long withheld. "I love you, and any service I may do, or condolence I can offer... All that I have is yours, please do not try to take the privilege of heloing you away."
A choked "Meleth" is all Legolas can reply to the declaration, but the intent is visable, so you pull him closer, and run the silk soft hairs of his head through your fingers.
For you meant it, anything for him is well worth doing, and you would be colder than the stone in a creek before you could even think about galting your care.
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cornerful · 1 month
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I love the conversation between Frodo and Boromir so much. So much. It's dripping with overarching themes and character work and the tension is electric the way it builds, the physical environment-as-cue, the parallels between Boromir and Bilbo, and Gollum, Boromir saying "so much depends on you" Boromir the first son of the steward of Gondor saying those words... thinking to sway Frodo with this conversation, yes, and it gets out of hand yes, but what does he say first he says 'may I sit with you' and 'none of us should be alone' and I just think of the mountain of responsibility heaped upon Boromir and how kind he is anyway, and it only twists the knife further that were this Ring not between them things would be different. Yet without the ring they would probably never have met.
And Frodo is so measured, so gracious, so strong in his resolve even though he is so scared, I love him, I love both of them, they are both so good, and that this is how they part...
That Frodo is forced to flee, that even if he heard Boromir calling after him and came back, how long until the madness that passed would return? That this desperate escape, not friendly counsel, is what pushed him to set off alone. That he must witness those around him fall to powerlust and violence, no matter how grand or valiant their hearts it may be no one can withstand the ring's influence. And the one thing Frodo cannot do is cast it away. He has to keep it, whatever it may do to him, and to protect those around him he must isolate himself?? Using his body and soul as a shield in the hopes of containing this dreadful, evil thing long enough to save everyone else from it for ever!!! Excuse me??
And that Boromir, if he could just understand what the ring is, would recognize Frodo's bravery and his wisdom. But he can't see it. He is in need, and the ring uses that. His crazed ramblings about how he would overthrow Sauron are all the more tragic for how hopeless they are. If he could he would 1v1 Sauron himself, this is the man that toot tooted at a Balrog. I think of Fingolfin in his last despair pounding on Morgoth's door with a fey light in his eyes, a tiny star under an engulfing cloud, blazing his challenge, and dying there in blood and dust. Because that is the real story, Boromir. That is how this ends.
The little hobbit, who looks younger but is actually older, who has raised a blade against an enemy only a handful of times, has the right of it. And maybe this gets missed sometimes but it says so much about Frodo that he fled. He could have used the ring to stab Boromir in the back. He has been carrying the thing on his body for longer than Boromir has even been in proximity to it, and has owned it for nearly twenty years on top of living in the same home as it for even longer. Boromir's direct threat to take it could have twisted his mind to possessive fury, but it doesn't. Frodo just runs, puts as much distance between them as possible, and that is such a significant act.
Not only that, but the minute he takes the ring off he puts the blame of Boromir's madness on it. He does not decide that Boromir has secretly been false this whole time, he does not even think of getting back at him, or ruminate in anger over what happened.
And Boromir dying, saying "I am sorry. I have paid." ??? Breaking of the fellowship more like breaking of my heart
It just kills me that anyone could possibly think either of them cowardly or unheroic.
Frodo and Boromir are both so incredibly brave and good and this is the hill I will not die on but live on because I will win!! I love them
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popquizhot-shot · 3 months
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i was inspired by @allysunny 's fic where miguel watches snow white and i loved it so much its literally so wholesome. GO READ IT.
and after that i watched a lotr fanart reel with the evenstar theme and i began to wonder how mig would like Lord of the Rings. cuz he has to if the relationship is going to work im sorry-
So here's the product of my labour lmfao im doing the first movie only because this would be way too long if it was all three
MIGUEL WATCHES LOTR(extended edition ofc)
-I feel like he'd come across you either looking at fanart or edits of the characters and be intrigued.
-"what's that, tesoro?" nosy mf he'd smush onto your shoulder from behind, your hair ticking his nose lightly.
"it's lord of the rings, babe. how have you-"
and you realise mans is from 2099 how tf is he going to know what lord of the rings is.
and thats how you end up sitting in front of the tv at 8am in the morning with tea and breakfast and the shire theme playing from the tv.
-"They're dwarves?" Miguel asks when he sees Frodo next to Gandalf
"No, they're Hobbits."
"But Hobbits are basically dwarves?"
"Nope, different race, honey." you kiss his cheek as his eyes squint in confusion.
=Merry and Pip remind him of ahem certain spider people
-He gasps when Bilbo disappears and is like wtf when he sees him reappear and have a meltdown over the ring.
-He gasps AGAIN when you tell him that gandalf actually left frodo in the shire for 17 years and not like a few hours or days
-gets annoyed at merry and pippin AGAIN
-fucking loves samwise but thinks he needs a bit more spine(give him a chance wait till the end of the series)
-he will raise an eyebrow at you trying to stop your squeal when looking at the first glimpse of this strider and his pipe.
-i feel like the nazgul would freak him out(just a little but its the horses)
-THE HORSES i feel like he wont give af honestly about them because he can co exist with widow on the team but since he has the phobia he wouldnt fawn over them(not me pssh i love the pretty horsies)
-absolutely thinks frodo is going to die when hes stabbed by the nazgul
-his eyes widen when arwen our queen rides in and you squeal again
-he admires arwen and her abilities, that scene with the river and the nazgul makes his jawdrop.
-"tesoro i like this movie." "slut" "im YOUR slut" *mwah*
-he loves the rivendell and the set design is honestly breathtaking he gets so into it
-arwen and aragorn are adorable and he holds you tighter when the flashback scene between them is shown
-you clap when you see legolas ride in and he sideeyes you yet AGAIN
-sees the appeal tbh
-he loves that you're so passionate about something and want to share it with him and he sees it as an honour that you're willing to do this, spend an entire day watching a movie series with him its baffling to him
-you on the other hand get worried that he finds it boring but then when he gets into it youre ecstatic that he likes it too and you both can enjoy something thats so close to your heart.
-it can be hard to relate to someone who's so different from you, like mans is spiderman, a geneticist, leads an elite strike dedicated to the multiverse-
-but you both gel in a lot of ways (which is why dude loves you and would die for you and kill for you either way what bliss)despite leading such different lives and now there's one more thing you can bond over and it fills you with happiness and you have to snuggle into him and he holds you tighter in response, smooching the top of your head
-absolutely despises boromir at first(it changes)
-thinks elrond is bossy asf(look whos talking babe)
-he gets worked up when boromir starts coveting the ring and is like he should die
-sniffs when the man actually dies in such a heroic way
-i think he has to cover his mouth when aragorn finds boromir and kisses his forehead because its such an emotional scene and this man has gone through such loss and probably similar things in his own battlefield except he wishes he could have given his teammates better goodbyes.
-when the movie ends yk the way it does he immediately puts on the next one.
-"babe wait i have to pee!" "pee fast then and come back!" *pats your ass as you walk past him and you try to swat him because that doesnt help after holding in your pee for like 3 damn hours
-he really likes it and he loved experiencing it with you, listening to your commentary sometimes, rolling his eyes lovingly when you grin at aragorn or legolas or sam or arwen, but he loved it even more because it was a piece of you that was bared to him and he accepted it and loved it too because it was YOU
-and because its a legendary piece of art.
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peri-helia · 3 months
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Take it easy with me, please
In lieu of the New Year drabble I haven't finished, here is a Joe x Nicky slice of life drabble where the title inexplicably comes from ABBA. Taken from this prompt list: cooking together
“I love you more than life itself, but fuck off”
Joe snorted on a laugh, a hand coming up to cover one of Nicky’s that is cradling his face. It’s a line he’s heard from his beloved’s mouth so many times before. He remembers it from the first argument, proper argument, that they’d had since they’d become lovers. And so many others since. Probably none more than this.
“But I want to help” he insists.
Nicky’s lovely eyes kindle warmly, mouth ticking up in one corner the way it does when he’s trying not to laugh. Joe knows no map better than he does Nicolo di Genova’s face.
“I know you do, hayati. And I love you for that. But this,” Nicky gestures behind them, “is not what one would call helping”
Joe plays along, mouth dropping into an enquiring ‘o’, eyebrows raising. “What would ‘one’ call it, tesoro?”
“Getting in my fucking way”
Joe can’t hold back anymore, he ruptures into laughter. Abandons the pots and pans he'd been starting to wash to pull Nicky into a soapy kiss. They both get lost in it a little, while the others are in the other room. They pull at each other, hair and shirts. Nicky bites at Joe’s plush lower lip, the way he’s wont to. Joe’s hands slip under Nicky’s t-shirt, the hem pulled free from the constricting ties of his apron up to press at Nicky’s shoulder blades, leave marks that will fade a split second after they’re made.
Nicolo is a tolerant man but if there is one thing he cannot stand, it is someone trying to help him cook.
Joe pulls away first, delighting in the way Nicky chases his mouth, at having made him forget the holds of life, beyond love and desire. Many a pot has bubbled over because of Joe and he holds each time a personal success.
“Should I disappear from your sight?” Joe asks with a contented sigh, patting Nicky on the chest, smoothing a non-existent rumple from the fabric of his t-shirt.
Nicky smiles, that gorgeous, rakish grin that Joe loves best. “Another hour would be perfect”
When Nicky is in the kitchen, it is to be himself, his ingredients and the battered old radio crooning terrible love songs The rest of them are expected to involve themselves only if they want a glass of water or to have a spoon shoved under their nose to check the seasoning.
“I’ll just-“ Joe reaches over to the corner of the worktop, where his hoodie sits beside the eggs and the other groceries not yet put away, “get out of your way”
He winces when he hears the tiny crackle of the bag of Doritos under the fabric, even as he carefully off-sets the weight of the jar of salsa in the right hand inner pocket. Joe was so the wrong person for this job. He knew he should have gone with paper over scissors. 
He’d be sent to do recon, because they were, with all the love in the world, starving. Another hour. Quynh already had Domino’s on speed dial. It’s not that they won’t eat what Nicky’s so lovingly cooking – he always relishes his turn to cook – especially now that they are all together once more. They will savour it. It’s just that like so many things with immortality; their healing, refractory periods, hair growth – they burn a lot of calories and coming back to life is hungry work. They put Hobbits to shame with the size of their second breakfasts and elevenses. Brunch as well as lunch, supper after dinner.
Hence the crisps and dip. Nile had pleaded. Begged.
Joe holds his breath as he looks up from under his lashes at Nicky. His beloved is singing away under his breath, swaying his shoulders as he bangs the wooden spoon on the lip of the saucepan.
He gathers the hoodie tighter, to stop the bag falling out by a loose corner. Another treacherous crinkle of the paper. Fuck. What did they make these bags of anyway?
Turning as nonchalantly as he can, Joe starts to walk towards the door. Then, as it comes over the radio he sings along, "Take your time, make it slow"
Nicky remains, a smile slipping over his face as he stands by the stove, as he too sings along under his breath. Joe can barely believe it when he gets away with it, slipping out and just as casually pushing the kitchen door to before haring up the rickety stairs as quickly as his feet can carry him.
“Make your fingers soft and light,” Nicky huffs on a laugh as he stirs the casserole, listening to Yusuf make off with ill-gotten gains, reaching into the pocket of his apron. “Let your body be the velvet of the night,” the half eaten brownie he’d cut from the tray is a little squashed from being in his pocket when Joe embraced him, but Nicky wouldn’t have it any other way. “Touch my soul, you know how” he warbles, savouring the gooey chocolate, “Andante, Andante Andante, Andante, go slowly with me now”  
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sgt-seabass · 1 year
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Hear me out about dark!TFAWS!(wintersoldier) bucky with a puppy or a kitten!reader?? Would he be mean like daddy!lloyd? Or would he be gentle but firm? Would he let you cum? Or would he let you suffer??? PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!! I have had this thought all fricken day long and I NEED this. But take your time:) no obligation either! Love you Ambs!!
Hnghhhh I love this. There’s so many ways you could go with this but here’s what my brain is singing for.
Dark Bucky headcannon below -
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Bucky never got to have anything of his own. He was someone else’s weapon, and when he wasn’t with Hydra, he was Captain America’s weapon. Steve didn’t mean to treat Bucky that way, but being Captain America’s best friend and right hand man meant there was a required personal sacrifice. And then after all Bucky gave, Steve left.
He’d never known how to own his own body, make his own decisions. He’d latched onto Sam when he took the mantle. It was easier that way - familiar.
Yet he longed for something of his own.
“You should get a dog or something. Like a therapy animal.” Sam had suggested.
And so Bucky got a pet. You.
A sweet thing he met working at the bookstore. Bucky had wanted a new copy of The Hobbit, but instead came home with so much more.
Bucky finally made a decision for himself. You would be his pet.
Keeping a crying, screaming girl in his Brooklyn apartment wasn’t going to work. So he took you out to his small cabin on the outskirts of the city. That way he could break you in before you could come home with him. All puppies need training, after all.
The big question is, how did Bucky treat his pet?
Well, being the only thing Bucky felt ownership for, he cherished you. But he also wouldn’t stand for your bullshit.
If you were good, he’d give you the world.
If you were bad, he’d take the world from you.
Of course, in the beginning you were unequivocally bad. Constantly trying to get out, attack him, deny him. But over time with training, spanking, and some gentle moments, your walls began to break down.
Someone’s sanity can only last so long when under constant duress. Bucky was admittedly impressed with how long you lasted. And it made his win all the more sweet when you broke.
Bucky wasn’t a mean lover, but he was demanding. He needed constant attention and affection. If he was home, you had to be with him. And when he left, he expected you to be thinking of him.
"Who's a good puppy? That's right, you are. Look at you, nuzzling at daddy's legs. Do you want your treat, pup? Daddy has got a nice big bone for you."
And when you were good, the rewards you got were stellar.
Play time was Bucky’s favourite. He’d get you on your back so he could tickle and play with your belly and tits, before giving you some of the strongest orgasms of your life. The little bell on your collar would jingle with the way your body shuddered from his ministrations.
Bucky was a pleasure dom at heart. He may have ripped you from your world to be in his own, but at the end of the day he only wanted his puppy to be happy with him.
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Thranduil x Modern Soulmate Reader
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Word Count: 3,367
Thranduil had always wondered who his soulmate was. But, that didn't apparently matter to his father, who insisted that he married a princess, to strengthen Mirkwood's power. He knew certain bits and pieces about his soulmate. For example, they liked music as they were always humming some tune that only he could hear. Their favourite song was called 'Keep Yourself Alive' by a band apparently called Queen. He also knew that, due to the fact soulmates could see each other's dreams, they did not hail from Middle Earth. 
He thought he knew his soulmate well, until one night, he was pulled from his own dream and into a nightmare of war. It was night, he could tell that much. Everything had an eerie green glow as his soulmate looked through an eyepiece for any threats. Within seconds, it went from quiet to deafening. Guns blazed around as a man diffused something. Shots fired from his soulmate hit their mark, even in the darkness. The man jogged back to them, the soldiers regrouping and getting into the vehicle. As his soulmate turned their back, they were hit by something in their right shoulder.
"We need medics at base, a.s.a.p. Sergeant Y/n L/n has been hit. Bullet wound to the shoulder. I repeat, Sergeant Y/n L/n has been hit." A woman's voice spoke over radio. Other shouts for medical treatment echoed in the small space, but, everything was muffled as shouts of 'stay with me, Y/n!' were herd various times.
"Don't you dare die on me, Y/n. This group has been through way too much to lose its best woman." The same female voice said as his soulmate's eyes fell closed.
That was when he woke up, in a cold sweat, his covers in the floor. He moved his hair out of his eyes as he looked around him. He was safe and sound. He worried about his soulmate, searching his brain for her name. The name he had herd when she had been hit. Y/n. Sergeant Y/n L/n. He scribbled her name on a piece of paper and put it on his bedside cabinet for later. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You woke up in a medical bay, not really any memory of what had happened. You remembered shots. You turned your back and felt as though you had been punched in the back. Adrenaline had kept the pain at bay, now, unfortunately, it had worn off. You tried to sit up as you saw the Lieutenant Colonel walk through the door of the tent. 
"Don't get up, Sergeant. I just wanted to give you this." He handed you a letter from HQ. "I also want to thank you for your service to the nation. You've done immensely well. You should be proud." You knew he had herd about your resignation from the Army, probably from HQ. You also knew that although he pretended to be cold, he was actually a nice person on the inside. 
"Thank you, sir." You said. 
"Good luck with civilian life, Y/n. I mean it. Bluestone 42 won't be the same without you. As you were." 
"Thank you, sir." You said as he walked out of the tent with a nod. 
Six weeks of recovery and a day of travelling later, you were unlocking your London house, after two years of not touching it. You put your bags by the door, took off your uniform cap, coat and boots, leaving them beside your bag, before turning the electric back on, by the meter, along with the water and central heating. You put the kettle on and flumped onto the sofa, exhaustion draining from your body. No sooner had the kettle boiled was there a knock at the door. Reluctantly, you answered it. You couldn't quite believe what you were seeing. Thranduil. From The Hobbit. Or, at least an extremely good lookalike. 
"May I help you?" 
"My name is Thranduil and I was hoping that you could show me the quickest way back to Middle Earth." You raised an eyebrow in complete disbelief. "I'm only asking as yours was the first house I came across." 
"Hate to break it to you, but as much as I would love for fictional worlds to be real, they're not. Nice costume, though Halloween isn't until October, Barbie." 
"What is this 'Halloween' you speak of, and who is this 'Barbie', mortal?" Okay. Maybe he was the real deal. 
"It's a time when people put up decorations of pumpkins and ghosts, witches, ghouls, goblins and other magical stuff. And Barbie, is a kids toy. She's a doll with long blonde hair." 
"Aside from the toy, why would anyone want to worship goblins?" You saw the hatred. No, disgust in his eyes and remembered the movies. 
"The goblins aren't worshipped. It's about remembering dead relatives. The goblins and all of that are just meant to scare kids. You look freezing, come in. I can't promise a way back to Middle Earth, but I can make a decent meal." You said before hid did so. You closed the door behind him.
"You're very kind to a stranger.." 
"Y/n. Sergeant Y/n L/n." He took off his shoes by the door "Just through here." You noticed the state of his robes. "D'you want me to get you some clean clothes? I should have some somewhere." 
"What's wrong with my royal robes." He stated, matter of factly as he stood in his socks, still looking regal.
"You can't really go walking around on earth in robes, mate. You'll be a laughing stock. Besides, they're muddy." You walked upstairs as he followed close behind. You walked into your bedroom and began looking for the clothes. You went in your drawers and pulled out a stonewash blue Guns n Roses t-shirt, passing it to him. Then, you found the birthday presents that you had never given your family, as you had signed up for service. A navy blue hoodie and black denim jeans, along with a leather belt. The bathroom is just across there. You said as he went to go and change. You noticed that you were still in uniform, so you swiftly changed into jeans, a Queen t-shirt and a grey Rolling Stones hoodie.
You walked out of the room at the same time Thranduil did. "Where would you like me to put these?" He asked as you took the sight in. He looked hotter than you'd seen him on the films in normal clothes. And the hoodie and jeans were doing everything for his look. He looked at you, slightly surprised at how good someone could look in such simple clothes. 
"Erm, just leave 'em on there and I'll was them for you." You said, gesturing to the wash basket. He placed his folded clothes on the basket. "So, what kind of food do you like?" You asked as you both walked downstairs and into the kitchen to see what you had got, food wise. 
"I don't mind. In Mirkwood, we usually have majority of Middle Earth's cuisines." Ok now he was just showing off. You looked in fridge, freezer and the cupboards, but other than some icicles and some cups, there was nothing. 
"I haven't been here in about two years since I went in the Army. We could order food in?" You tried the house phone, which had been disconnected. "Let's go out to eat." You said as you grabbed your keys from the shelf above the kitchen counter. The pair of you walked to the door. You slipped your converse on as he put on his boots. Luckily, the trousers covered most of the shins of them. Thranduil was about to undo the door when you stopped him. "C'mere. If you have your hair like that, someone's bound to notice you're not human." You said as he stepped closer to you, so you were face to chest, due to his height. You got up on the bottom step behind him. You tied his hair in a low bun before stepping in front of him to tease a few strands to cover the points of his ears. "Perfect." You whispered as you locked eyes with him, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You wanted to kiss him right then and there. You cleared your throat as a blush made its way across your cheeks. "We should be going." You muttered, not trusting your own voice. 
On the walk around the path to your car, he slipped his hand in yours. You looked at the floor, trying to hide your face, by instinct. Thranduil stopped walking. You stopped a foot after him. He turned you so you were looking at him. "I've waited years to meet you, Y/n. I've never met anyone like you. This is probably premature, but, I love you." He whispered before he lent in and kissed you. You didn't have to stand on your toes with him. His arms pulled you closer by your waist as yours went around his neck. Images of both of your pasts flashed before both of your eyes. He was the one. Your soulmate. You had only ever been told that you would see images of each other's pasts. You didn't think it was true, until then. After what felt like a lifetime, you pulled away for air. 
"I love you too, Thran." He smirked at the nickname you gave him, a smile on your own lips. You felt something fall on your head, and within moments, you were standing out in the pouring rain with Thranduil. "This is gonna be so cliché, but, wanna dance in the rain?" You asked as you took his had and led him to the middle of the now empty car park. Holding you close, you both waltzed around the area, until a car horn pulled you from the romantic moment. You both ran to your car and you unlocked it as you both opened the doors and got into the dry. "That was the most fun I've had in ages." You breathed as you ran a hand though your wet hair. Turning the engine on, you began to drive. Noticing the time, you had a better plan than to drive to a fancy restraint that you could undoubtedly not afford. Houses and buildings fell back from the scenery as you drove along the M25 from London. Soon enough, you found a service station. You went into the McDonalds Drive Thru and ordered two Big Mac meals and two McFlurries. 
Half an hour later, you were back on the road again.
Thranduil couldn't help but stare at you as he took in your features. Your h/c hair was curling slightly at your temples, from being wet. Your e/c eyes gleamed as you watched the road whilst talking to him. 
"So, back in Middle Earth, what do you do?" 
"I'm prince if Mirkwood. I ride elks and horses and I have to attend the most boring gatherings ever." 
"So, the usual royalty stuff then." You laughed. "All heirs and graces, yeah?" You said in a faux posh accent.
He couldn't help but laugh along with you "Something like that, yes, meleth." He watched how your laugh lit up your features "What do you do?"
"Well, I was an aspiring singer and dancer. But, I couldn't get any roles or attention from the big names I needed to. I was loosing money, fast. I was on the brink of loosing everything. The house, this car. So, I found an option. I joined the army and became an ATO in Afghanistan. It wasn't the first choice, or the cosy one, but it was to help people, and to help myself." He looked at you sympathetically but blankly as you figured he wouldn't know what you were talking about after the word ATO. "Bomb disposal." He still looked at you blankly. "I was a soldier. Until I resigned." 
"What made you resign?"
"Job lost its appeal, I s'pose. I tell you what, if I had the gift of foresight I wouldn't have made half of the mistakes I did." You drove I silence for a while, until your SatNav tells you that you have reached your destination. You parked the car on the seafront and got out of it before locking it. "I hope you like the sea, your highness, cos here we are. The White Cliffs Of Dover." You put a blanket over the bonnet and sat beside Thranduil. You then pulled the corners of the large blanket over you both, his arms pulling you into his lap. 
"It's beautiful." He said, resting his chin on your shoulder as you leaned into him, your head on his shoulder, watching the sunrise over the sea. 
When the sun had risen higher, you spoke again "Y'see that dark line on the horizon that starts there and ends just there," you pointed "that's France. There's a song about these cliffs. And a story. When pilots were flying back to England during the Second World War, they would look for these cliffs and know that they were home." You didn't say anymore, instead, you began singing.
"There'll be bluebirds over The white cliffs of Dover Tomorrow, just you wait and see I'll never forget the people I met Braving those angry skies I remember well as the shadows fell The light of hope in their eyes And though I'm far away I still can hear them say "Thumbs up!" For when the dawn comes up There'll be bluebirds over The white cliffs of Dover Tomorrow, just you wait and see There'll be love and laughter And peace ever after Tomorrow, when the world is free The shepherd will tend his sheep The valley will bloom again And Jimmy will go to sleep In his own little room again I may not be near, but I have no fear History will prove it too When the tale is told It will be as of old For truth will always win through; But be I far or near That slogan still I'll hear "Thumbs up!" For when the dawn comes up There'll be bluebirds over The white cliffs of Dover Tomorrow, just you wait and see
When night shadows fall, I'll always recall Out there across the sea Twilight falling down on some little town It's fresh in my memory I hear mother pray And to her baby say "Don't cry!" This is her lullaby There'll be bluebirds over The white cliffs of Dover Tomorrow, just you wait and see."
Thranduil looked at you with pure adoration as you finished the song. He took off one of the rings he was wearing and put it on your hand. You took your phone out and took a picture of the two of you, the cliffs in the background, made it your lock screen, then took a picture of the sunset before falling asleep in your love's arms.
"That was magnificent, my sergeant." 
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It had been three months since you had woken up alone. You hadn't entirely expected him to be there when you woke up. He had put you in the back seats of your car, the blanket over you. But, what you hadn't accounted for was the loneliness you felt when you woke up alone. You shouldn't have fallen for him. Even if he was the one. The only thing you had left of him was his robes and the ring he gave you. 
To get your mind off of the Elvenking, you went for a walk in your local forest. But, halfway through the forest, you tripped and fell. When you got up, you were no longer where you had fallen. You recognised the all too familiar shadow of the ruins of Dale a few meters before you. You were in the Battle Of Five Armies. Thankfully, the battle had not yet begun. You got onto your feet, noticing the rip in the jeans and the crack in your phone screen as it had fallen from your pocket. You ignored both. If you were in the third Hobbit movie, then that means that you had a chance of seeing Thranduil again. Running as fast as your body would allow, you made it into Dale. You stopped to catch your breath as you looked around you. The people of Laketown were preparing for battle. You silently thanked whoever controlled the universe when you saw armour clad elves. 
You were about to move when shouts came your way. "Oi." You tried to ignore the voice, belonging to Alfred. "We don't want any more beggars 'ere. Or any more wizards or vagabonds." With every word, you took a step away from him. 
"I'm here to see Thranduil. I'm from Rohan. I owe him a great deal of gratitude after he helped save my sister a short while ago from illness and most likely death, and I intend on seeing him to thank him once more." You just hoped that you had sounded convincing enough to pass for an inhabitant of Middle Earth with the whopping lie you just told.
He looked at you sceptically. "Follow me." He said as you did just that. He led you to a yellow tent.
"What do you want now, Alfred?" Bard said in a bored tone. 
"There is a woman here that claims to be from Rohan. She said that the king of Mirkwood saved her sister from death, so she would like to show her gratitude." Thranduil looked up from his wine glass, not remembering doing any such thing. 
"If you touch me with your grubby little mitts once more, I'll be your next big issue." Thranduil herd this as Alfred kept one hand on the woman, who was just out of sight.
"Send her in." Thranduil said, knowing your voice anywhere.
"As you wish." The man stated, pushing you inside the tent, tripping you up in the process, before walking off. 
"Arsehole." You muttered as you dropped your phone for the second time today.
"How do I know that you're my Sergeant L/n?" He gazed at you, as if looking for a fault that you were not the same woman he had been ripped from the arms of by fate and someone's magic.
"I met you on my doorstep, half an hour after I had just got back from being posted in Afghanistan. You stood in front of me and told me who you were. I didn't believe you at first. Until I spoke about Halloween and called you Barbie and you had no idea what I was on about. I offered you food, but then saw I had no food cos I hadn't been back for two years. I tied your hair in a bun. You were wearing the blue hoodie. Then, then went out and danced in the rain until we were soaked. We went to McDonalds and both had a Big Mac meal and McFlurries. We then drove to Dover and I showed you where France was. I sang the White Cliffs Of Dover song as the sun rose. And you gave me this ring." You said as he walked over to you and kissed you like it was the last thing he would ever do. You pulled away and spoke "It's only been three months, Thran."
"It's been three thousand years, my sergeant. I don't plan on ever letting you go again. It's not a coincidence that we met twice. Marry me, please Y/n, you've already got the ring."
You looked into his eyes, knowing you were safe "I'll marry you, Thranduil." you smiled as he kissed you once more. 
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