#💖💓💖💗💞💓💕💓💞💖💓💖💓💖💖💖💓💖💓💝💝💖💗💓💗💞💗💗💖💗💗💖

[dominiccotarobles]

Nice 😍💖💘💗💞💕💓❤️💝❤️‍🔥🥰

Angled dragon

[xoxochb]

— late night reading 💌 ⋆˚࿔

“sweet girl.”

you snap out of your trance, blinking your eyes as you come back to reality. “hmm?”

“are you okay?”

percy wears a concerned frown. you can’t help but match his expression knowing that you were the leading cause to his distress.

“I’m okay.”

“are you sure?” he reaches out, giving you a peck on the cheek. when he pulls back, he takes both of your hands into his own, rubbing your knuckles soothingly.

you kiss one of percy’s cheeks. “I’m sure. I just stayed up late last night. you were out by nine but I couldn’t sleep.”

“you could’ve woken me up.”

you shake your head, toying with his fingers. “you looked peaceful.”

“what time did you fall asleep?”

“two…”

“and you woke up at ten.”

you nod, tiredly resting your head on percy’s chest. your entire body follows, curling into him subconsciously.

“you need to get some sleep, sweet girl.”

“I know. but I had to finish my book.”

percy untwines his hand from yours, using one to card his fingers through your hair. the action alone nearly sends you into a deep slumber. though you sigh contently at the comforting notion.

“you’re trying to make me fall asleep,” you mumble, voice muffled from the skin of his chest.

“insightful. and sexy. nice.”

“insightful?”

“yeah.” you hear percy’s smile through his voice. “you told me that word once.”

you tell him a lot of words. you often have him read ones from higher vocabulary to expand his knowledge of words. a few months ago you had began a thing where every sunday you would sit with percy and repeat words over to help his dyslexia after he’d complained about not being able to read your books with you.

you’re surprised he remembers half of them though. usually he ends up zoning out and staring at your lips halfway through your lesson. then he asks if your into the whole teacher-and-student trope.

“I didn’t think you’d remember it.”

“I remember everything you say to me.”

you grin in disbelief. “your lying.”

“promise I’m not. yesterday while you were eating lunch you said you wanted to ‘eat the ass of the guy who made this sandwich.’ direct quote.”

“‘was a really good sandwich.” your eyes flutter closed as the exhaustion begins hitting you.

“I know. you told me seven times.”

“hmm. interesting…”

percy presses a kiss against your forehead, sliding your hair out of your face and behind your ear. “sleep, sweet girl.”

you exhale slowly. soon enough you comply.

— this is literally nothing but I thought it was cute so here’s to all my fellow book girls who also stay up extraordinarily late to finish their books 😋😋💕💖💘💝💗💓💞

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[hayatiayad]

No ask, just...

**THOWS A BUCKET OF LOVE AND HEARTS!!!!!**

💖💗💞💕💝💘💓💖💗💞💕💝💘💓💖💞💕💝💘💓💖💗💞💕💝💘💓💖💗💞💕💝💘💓💖💗💞💕💝💘💓💖💗💞💕💝💘💓💖💗💞💕💝💘💓💖💗💞💝💘

"Wah- thank you, anon..."

[cutebendy]

*purrrs*

[higherpurps]

I need yuh 💘🩷💖💝💗💓💕💞

[fuzziiwuzzii]

It’s the 70s, Claudia and Madeleine are at the lesbian bar… I think they’re looking at you.

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[nonese-random]

Spongebob lovelypants <3

[wolfchans]

[sugarpasteltmnt]

Happy ‘The Neon Void’ 2nd Anniversary!!!

I’m a few days late (it was the 26th) but that’s because I’m currently traveling somewhere I’ve always wanted to go; Japan!! I’m having an amazing time and wished I could have prepared something a bit more special, but I’ll be honest— I’m so much happier and freer now thanks to TNV and all of the wonderful people in this fandom, and I feel like this trip is helping celebrate that.

Two years ago I wasn’t exactly feeling very cowabunga about a lot of things, but while writing TNV I was able to get through some tough times and even help make some important decisions that have significantly improved my life. And I could not be more thankful for everyone’s sweet words and excitement over my silly little fanfic— seriously, you all are so amazing and I am so so so lucky to be a part of such a fun fandom. Thank you all so so much.

So thank you all again for everything, happy 2nd anniversary, and remember to enjoy the cheesy pizza pies life gives you 🩵

[I’m still traveling with a tight schedule but I see all your wonderful asks and art and I’ll be able to catch up with you all soon!! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ ]

[xoxorory]

The Glitter Incident (Also Known as That One Date That Never Happened) !

POV: Fem!Reader Pairing: Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff | Humor | Chaos | Domestic Softness Featuring: Glitter trauma, Damian being a concerned (and lowkey entertained) boyfriend, and Fem!Reader being Very Done™️ Word Count: ~2.6K Requested by: @simpingmyassoff more damimi reqs pls. . . Taglist🏷️: @simpingmyassoff , @shootingstargirl2001 (if you want to be added,comment down below!) A/N: English isn't my first lenguage,enjoy! ! ! A/N 2: This is my frist time writing for Damian. . .l!! Hope y'all like it (don't crucify me pls) A/N 3: This happend once to me. . . when i was getting ready for my gymnastics competition. . .

The Getting-Ready Phase of Doom

There was something magical about preparing for a date.

Maybe it was the soft playlist you had on repeat (romantic pop, naturally). Maybe it was the way your lipstick matched your earrings. Or maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t blown up anything all day, which in Gotham, was basically a miracle.

You twirled once in the mirror. Soft shimmer on your eyelids, a gentle curl to your hair, the most perfect flowy dress you'd found after an hour of wardrobe warfare.

It was going to be perfect. Damian was picking you up at 7 sharp. You were ready.

Almost.

Until, of course, the Universe got involved.

The Glitterpocalypse Begins

While grabbing your phone from the dresser, your hip bumped a small table. A small, rickety, decorative table you kept meaning to fix or get rid of. On said table: a lone, forgotten glitter popper.

The plastic kind from a birthday party six months ago. The kind you meant to throw away. The kind that, right now, decided to fall and detonate on impact like a sparkly bomb from hell.

POP.

A deafening burst.

A mushroom cloud of metallic pink, blue, and gold.

“…No,” you whispered in horror.

It was too late.

Glitter rained down on you like cosmic punishment. It clung to your arms, your face, your curls, your LIPS—

Your dress was no longer elegant. It was a walking glitter nightmare.

Your makeup? Ruined. Your soul? Also ruined.

You looked like a disco ball had exploded on a very confused Disney princess.

Cue Damian.

Knock knock.

“(Y/N)?” Damian’s calm voice came from the hallway. “I’m here.”

You froze. Your hands mid-air. Your eyes wide. The glitter sparkled menacingly.

You opened the door in slow motion.

Damian stood there, freshly dressed in a soft button-up (black, obviously), hair slightly tousled from the wind, holding a single dark red rose like the romantic menace he was.

And then he saw you.

His brow furrowed slightly.

“…Are you… under attack?”

You just looked at him. “No.”

He blinked. “Did someone glitter bomb you? Was this Grayson? Brown?”

“No.”

A long pause.

“…Did you fight a craft store?”

You groaned, stepping aside and letting him in. “It’s worse.”

The Explanation (And the Panic)

Damian stared around the room. Glitter covered the floor, the furniture, the ceiling fan, even the cat (when did you get a cat?). You paced in front of him like a general who had lost the war.

“There was a popper,” you said, distressed, gesturing at the table. “It fell. It exploded. The glitter’s in my lip balm. Damian, I’m shiny. I’m a human mirror. I sparkle in low light. What if someone sees me and thinks I’m trying to join a boyband from 2008?”

Damian just watched you. “You do sparkle.”

“That’s not helping!”

He reached out and brushed a flake off your cheek. His touch was gentle, his smirk subtle.

“…You’re kind of cute, actually.”

You gasped. “Damian Wayne, this is a crisis.”

“An adorable one.”

Plan B (Glitter Recovery Mission)

Seeing your eyes start to water (and not just from glitter dust), Damian immediately switched gears.

“Alright,” he said, taking your hand. “New plan. No crowds. No candlelit restaurant. Just us, here.”

“But the reservation—”

“Screw the reservation. You need a glitter decontamination unit, not crème brûlée.”

“…That’s fair.”

“I’ll run the shower. You’ll rinse the glitter. I’ll start the laundry.” He sniffed dramatically. “Also, the air smells like sparkly trauma.”

You finally let out a laugh, slumping against him. “I wanted tonight to be perfect.”

He pulled you into a slow, comforting hug, ignoring the glitter sticking to his shirt. “It already is.”

Phase One: The Shower Battle

Twenty minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom in a bathrobe, hair damp, cheeks pink, smelling like vanilla and regret.

Damian sat cross-legged on the couch, now in sweats, with a vacuum cleaner nearby and a trash bag full of glittered paper towels.

“The floor’s safe,” he said. “Mostly. I think the couch is beyond saving.”

You eyed the spot next to him. “I’ll just sit on the floor.”

“No you won’t,” he said, pulling you down beside him with a grin. “We suffer together.”

You pouted dramatically. “I’m still glittery inside.”

He tilted his head. “...What does that mean?”

“I inhaled it. I can feel it in my soul.”

He nodded seriously. “We’ll get you a priest.”

Movie Night: Glitter Recovery Edition

You ended up curled on the couch, a blanket over your legs, watching an old black-and-white movie while you sipped cocoa through a glittery straw (the last indignity).

Damian pressed a kiss to your temple. “You okay now?”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Just embarrassed.”

“You shouldn’t be. You looked magical. Like a chaos faerie.”

You looked up at him. “I hate how weirdly nice that sounds.”

He shrugged. “It’s true.”

You sat in silence for a beat.

“…You’re still a little sparkly,” he added.

“I will fight you.”

Bonus: The Batfam Finds Out

BATPSYCHO'S!!! (oh and Damian's girlfriend)

Steph: [sends a blurry photo of your glitter-covered self from earlier] Steph: “WHAT HAPPENED. WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE A BEDAZZLED PIÑATA.”

Cass: “Pretty”

Jason: “Demon Spawn. Did you lose a glitter war.”

Damian: “She's fine. Do not come over.”

Tim: “So that’s a yes.”

Bruce: “No glitter in the Batcave.”

Damian: “It was ONE TIME.”

Alfred: “I’m making tea. Stay sparkly, Miss.” You: ''Thanks Alfred. . .''

The End (Probably. Unless More Glitter Happens.)

As the night wore on and the movie ended, you turned to Damian, sleepily curling into his side.

“…You really don’t mind the glitter?”

He kissed the top of your head. “Not even a little.”

“Even if it’s in your hair forever?”

“I’ll live.”

“You’re a good boyfriend.”

“You’re a sparkly menace,” he replied.

You smiled into his shoulder. “I’ll take it.”

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[erabu-san]

Fontaine siblings

[peculiargirllove]

AWWW AWWWW I WISH THEY HAD CARS BACK THEN SO I COULD HIT HIM WITH ONE AWWW 💞💕💘💝💗💓💖🩷💘💓❤️❤️💓💗💘💘💘💓🩷

[xoxochb]

“why did we all fall out of our pjo phases” WHO IS WE ????? I’M STILL AT THE RESTAURANT BITCH TRY AGAIN LMFAOOO 😭😭

[ohmyminsung]

WONWOO 💚 LALALI

[hinge]

Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

[totalswag]

Love your writing! So good!! Could you do one where the reader and Rafe have not been dating for long, only for about two weeks or so, and she is very insecure and doesn´t understand why he ever approached her to ask her out in the first place. She isn´t the most outgoing and thinks she is quite plain looking, comparing herself to all the much prettier girls (in her opinion) at parties that she evidently thinks he will leave her for and so she she starts to distance herself to make it hurt less

unworthy doubts — RAFE CAMERON

authors note first off, thank you so much. you don’t know how much that means to me. to all of you reading this right now; please know how important you're in this world. youre beautiful on the inside and outside in your own unique way 🤍.

summary questioning and comparing yourself to other girls while wondering why your boyfriend, rafe cameron, chose you.

warnings insecure, comparing, mentions of parties, crying, doubt.

Rafe Cameron and you started dating for almost a month; it’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a relationship. Although it’s in the early stages of your relationship, you haven’t felt this way.

However, your insecurities felt like they'd been with you forever.

Rafe's confidence and charisma seemed to effortlessly command whatever room he entered. You felt invisible; blending into the background. Comparing yourself to other girls at parties; pretty smile, makeup, etc.

What could rafe see in you?

The worries had recently gotten stronger, a constant voice in the back of your head. When you saw Rafe taking to someone or laughing too hard at someone’s joke, the voice whispers became louder.

You stood against the railing of Tannyhill watching at the sunset in your own thoughts. The breeze felt nice and it felt like good time to enjoy the moment.

"Hey," Rafe's voice interrupted your thoughts, making you jump slightly. He joined you at the railing with a troubled expression on his face. "You have been quiet recently. Is everything alright?

Rafe noticed your change in attitude in the previous three days. He had asked if everything was fine, but you refused to talk about it. Tonight, he wants answers. He's concerned about you.

You forced a smile, but it did not reach your eyes. "Yeah, I am fine." Just... exhausted, I suppose."

Rafe did not appear convinced. He stretched out and carefully tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You know you can speak with me, right? If something is bothering you, please let me know.”

Your heart sunk as you heard those words. Deep down, you want to open up to him and express your feelings. You don't want to come across as undesirable and make him think differently of you.

You felt words spilling out, but you remained silent.

"Y/N, I feel like you're pulling away from me." "Is it something I said or did?" He creaked "Please let me know, baby."

"It's not you, Rafe," you eventually confessed, the words rushing out before you could stop them. "It's me." I just don't understand why you chose me. I am not like the other gals. I'm not as attractive, outgoing, or—"

Rafe cut you off, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Is that what you think? That I don't realize how magnificent you are?"

Rafe's thoughts were all over the place. Seeing tears gather in the corner of your eyes caused him to cry.

You shrugged your shoulders, feeling tears form in your eyes, and down your cheeks. Not bothering drying them off.

"It's difficult for me to not to think about that when I'm constantly comparing myself to these girls" you ramble on when Rafe cuts you off.

Rafe approached, holding your face in his hands. "Look at me," he murmured quietly, waiting for you to meet his eyes. "I asked you out because I like who you are. You are nice and intelligent, and you make me laugh like no one else can. You are attractive to me both inside and out. And if you can't see it yet, I'll spend as much time as necessary to show you."

His words struck you like a tsunami, removing any doubts and anxieties that had been building up. You took a nervous breath as tears finally poured over.

You bury your face against his chest, letting out your sobs and putting your arms around his body; Rafe gently strokes your back, rocking you both side to side and whispers nice words into your ear to calm you down. 

"I can't afford to lose you," you whine against his chest.

"Baby, you will not lose me; I will be with you every step of the way," Rafe says before kissing the top of your head several times.

my taglist!

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[buckysflicker]

😭😭😭😭💗💓💞💖💓💝💓💝💞💘💞💕💕💞💗💗💞💞 THIS IS AMAZINGGGG

one and only

pairing: husband!bucky barnes x reader

summary: you and bucky decide to take the next step, afterwards you both reflect on your choices, and your love.

word count: 3.3K

cw: thunderbolts* spoilers

a/n: i was recently in a wedding and forgot how much i love true love, this is inspired by that. this is just straight tooth rotting fluff! enjoy!!! ✨

Marriage was always in the cards for Bucky — well, it was when he thought that life had a time limit and wasn't something that could be delayed. He had imagined returning from the war to find a partner, a house with a white picket fence, maybe 2-3 kids, and, hopefully, a good paying job.

None of that came true.

None of that would ever be the case for him.

So he gave up his dreams and realized that life had dealt him a brand new hand. He had spent many years running, hiding, now it seemed like all he could do was try to make his way back to at least some of his old life. Marriage didn't seem to align this time around, and he was okay with that.

Or at least, he pretended to be.

Imagine his surprise when you made your way into his life. Bucky didn't know if the universe was playing some fucked up trick on him, or if he had been reading this new hand of cards wrong this entire time. He knew you were special. Life changing, even.

There was never a doubt about it, that you were someone worth fighting for — someone that he was meant to love. It felt foreign at first, he had gone so long without the kind touch of another human being, but the two of you eased into it as if it was the most natural thing in this world.

Because it was.

You never explicitly spoke about marriage, not even when things shifted from fun to serious.

There was always a reason not to:

Bucky dealing with the loss of Steve

Him and Sam weren't seeing eye to eye for a while

He decides to have a midlife crisis and become a Congressman (which you happily supported, even if you weren't entirely sure where it came from).

Now, he was finding his footing with a new group, the Thunderbolts — er, New Avengers (there were some legal issues with the name that Bucky didn't want to get into, he was usually too tired, too stressed, it wasn't important enough).

Which is why it surprised you that one night, after dinner, Bucky's leg seemed to be shaking more than usual — a clear sign that he had a lot on his mind. He was pretty good at not wearing his emotions on his sleeve, but tonight seemed different

"Everything okay?" you ask, your hand resting on his knee under the table.

Bucky turns his head in your direction with a look that said he saw you, but that his brain was in an entirely different place. There were dark spots on the shoulders of his gray t-shirt, he had taken a shower as soon as he got home and the droplets of water were falling from his still damp hair.

For a man so large and brooding, Bucky looks so small. He's hunched inwards, his elbows resting on the table as he holds his head in his hands. He barely touched his food, instead just moving it around with a fork. Holding secrets to himself.

"Things have been crazy," he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Walker's been driving me up a wall every single day asking the dumbest questions. Alexei asked me if we could experiment with doing a double dosage of the serum. Yelena's been talking me off the edge so I don't bust everyone's heads in."

Your lips curl into a soft smile as you squeeze his leg, offering him your silent support. The team was still semi-new and most days Bucky didn't have the patience to deal with them — even if silently he enjoyed their presence.

"You're all still working out the kinks."

"It's been a year, you'd think we'd have it figured out by now. Sam does, Steve always did."

"Sam didn't for a while," you remind him. "And Steve never did, he was just confident. You will work it out, you always do."

Bucky's head lolls to the side to look at you. Even in the smallest moments you never gave up on him, you always told him it would find a way — you were usually right, he just hated waiting for it.

"I love you, you know that?" he asks quietly, his hand moving to grab yours and bring it up to his lips. He presses a soft kiss against the palm of your hand before he intertwines your fingers together.

"I do," you nod. "I love you, too."

Bucky uses his free hand to push away his plate of untouched food, then he grabs the bottom of your chair and drags you over until you're next to him. Leaning over his hands wrap around the underside of your legs and lifts them up, letting them drape over his lap. He watches you intently, always memorizing your features — always scared one day he won't recognize them anymore.

"That's not the only thing that's on my mind tonight," he admits, his voice soft.

"Care to share?"

"Maybe."

You chuckle as you lean your head against the back of the chair, the amount of love in your eyes could make the Earth shatter.

Whatever is going on in that big, beautiful brain of his is taking a toll on him, his fingers playing with the tips of yours as he purses his lips. It's obvious he's trying to figure out what exactly to say, or how to say it.

"We should get married," Bucky finally comes clean, exposing his thoughts right then and there.

You wish you could say you were surprised by his admission, but the truth is you and Bucky had known from the very start that this was where your lives were headed together. It didn't need to be said audibly, no one needed to make sure. This was it.

"When?" you ask.

"Now."

"Right now?" you chuckle again, shaking your head with a playful eye roll. "The courthouse is closed, we'd need a witness."

"Too many logistics," he huffs. "Tomorrow, then."

"I'd have to check my calendar."

It was Bucky's turn to laugh, his head tilts back as he lets out a hearty bark, one that he only reserved for you. His hand runs up and down your leg, you can feel the calluses on his hands from where he held his gun or gripped his knife too tightly, but you didn't care. You loved the feeling of him.

"Mean."

"Tomorrow might work," you say, your eyes examining his features. "I don't have anything to wear."

"I don't care. You could wear that ratty old t-shirt you've been hanging onto for too long. I just want to marry you."

So that's exactly what you and Bucky did.

The next day the two of you called Sam and asked (pleaded) with him to meet you at the courthouse that afternoon and be the witness. He put up a little bit of a fight about the whole Avengers thing but you managed to remind him that this wasn't about petty arguments.

Bucky managed to scrounge up a suit from his time as a Congressman and you found an outfit that would work — it was slightly off white, maybe a little less traditional, but it did the job.

"Wow. And you we were worried about having nothing to wear" Bucky says as the two of you meet at the top of the steps in your home. "Give me a spin." You take his extended hand and he spins you around, whistling in admiration as he does. "Beautiful, as always."

"Not too bad yourself," you say as you face him again, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Are you ready to marry me, Barnes?"

"I've been ready since the day I met you," he whispers your name before he kisses you again, his lips lingering a few seconds longer this time.

Deep down he doesn't want to leave, he wants to take those clothes right off of you and worship the ground you walk on. He wants to hear you moan out your vows and promise to be with him forever. He'll settle for the courthouse instead.

The wait is longer than you had anticipated, apparently trying to get a marriage license was more of a hassle than either of you had expected (which wasn't very high since you both did a quick search on the computer the night before than hoped for the best).

Sam showed up as promised, albeit a little late, and now the three of you waited in the lobby of the courthouse, your leg bouncing in anxious anticipation.

"You're going to start an earthquake," Sam teased, earning a playful nudge from you.

"It's not everyday that you get married, Wilson."

"Can't believe R2-D2 over here found a soulmate," his chin nods over in Bucky's direction.

Bucky flips Sam off in a way that's both brotherly and full of hate, a perfect balance that only the two of them could master. You turn your head to the side to hide the amused smirk on your face, Sam was always getting you in trouble with his jokes.

"Don't egg him on," Bucky mutters.

"I'm sorry, R2-D2 is funny."

He grumbles something under his breath about being lucky he was going to marry you, but it doesn't matter because at the same time you hear your names being called out by one of the staff members.

It was time.

You wish you could say that you remembered every detail of what happened. That it was this beautiful, over-the-top ceremony filled with tears and wishes of love. In truth, it was quick and your mind sort of blanked out during it. There were no rings, no exchanging of pre-written vows, Sam watched a few feet back, with a quiet smile. It was intimate, quiet, exactly what you wanted.

A few signed documents, one cranky judge and a kiss later and the two of you were officially married. Not in the traditional sense that everyone grows up to dream about, but in a way that still promised each other the world and more.

"We're married," Bucky says.

It was hours later, the sun had now set, the world was dark and still. The two of you were now sitting on the floor of the kitchen, your legs draped over his. There was a skylight on the ceiling that let the moon and stars shine through illuminating the floor.

Bucky had gotten rid of his tie and suit jacket at some point in the night, the first button of his shirt was undone and his hair was a mess — but he was your husband, and he was beautiful. Your own hair was a mess and your strap had fallen down your arm, though you didn't care to fix it, there was a mysterious stain right under your chest and for all intents and purposes it was exactly how you pictured your wedding night.

A few feet away were a few empty bottles of champagne and a cake that you picked up from the grocery store on the way home. The white box was opened revealing what was left of a chocolate cake (which was now some crumbs) and two forks because of course you and Bucky fed each other and laughed about how weirdly dry it was.

"You keep saying that," you tease, biting down on your bottom lip.

"Can you believe it though? We're married." He grabs the open bottle of champagne by the neck and tips it to his lips, taking a long sip. It's not like he would ever feel the effects of the alcohol, but getting time to sit here with you and bask in your love made it feel like a celebration. What was a celebration without a little booze? "I never thought I'd be married, not after everything that happened."

You nod your head and give him a sad smile, grabbing the bottle that he was now holding out for you and taking a much smaller sip, the bubbles popping in your mouth.

"I wrote vows," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

"When did you have time to write vows?" he asks, his eyebrow raising.

"Not last night, a while ago," you admit. "Do you want to hear them?"

There's a knot in Bucky's stomach at the idea that you had laid everything out on a piece of paper. He thought of his name in your neat handwriting, and how you must have taken time to reflect on this relationship — this love. He doesn't tell you he's done the same, that sitting in the breast of his suit pocket is his own set of vows. Ones that he wrote years ago.

But right now he wants nothing more in that moment than to hear what you have to say, so he nods his head. You stand immediately, using his shoulder as leverage, and patter over to the steps, soon finding your way to the bedroom. You kept the vows in the nightstand next to your side of the bed, a folded up piece of paper that you scribbled on the nights he was away.

They served as a constant reminder of his undying love for you.

The paper is tight in your hand as you make your way back to the kitchen, taking a seat on the floor in the same position that you got up from, your back now resting against the cabinets. Your eyes find Bucky's and when he gives you a soft smile you unfold the paper and begin to read:

"I'm not going to pretend that these are perfect, or even close to describing the love that I feel for you, but I would be a fool not to reflect on our story, and hope that I've had nearly a fraction of the impact on your life as the one you've had on mine.

"When we met for the first time, I knew at that moment that I would never be the same. Neither of us were searching for the other, but there we were, standing a few feet apart at that dirty dive bar that Sam brought us to …"

Bucky laughs.

"And the world seemed just a little bit brighter — like something had changed. Well, something did change. We were both scared of the world, of each other, and of falling in love. But we ignored those little voices, we leapt into this and no matter how scary or hard it was, we did it together. Hand in hand. Head first.

"Life isn't linear and our stories are never what we expect them to be, but with you by my side I know that we are unstoppable. You've shown me how to be brave and what true unconditional love looks like. If I've never said it before, then I am saying it now: thank you.

"I promise to be your partner, your best friend and your soulmate in this lifetime and every one. We will find each other no matter where we are or who we become, because our stories are now one. It's not just you and me, it's us.

"And at the end of our days you will not just be Bucky Barnes the hero, you'll be James Barnes, my husband, my one true love. And I hope by the time I'm reading this that we decide to get married, or calling you my husband will be kind of awkward."

Bucky laughs again, you join him as you try to get the rest of the words out, trying to hold back tears. Your voice is now shaking.

"And if we did get married, then I hope we did it like we do everything. Together, hand in hand, head first."

You fold the paper in your lap, a few tears sliding down your cheeks as you meet Bucky's gaze. His eyes are glossed over and there's a fondness on his face that he only reserves for you — like most of them are.

"I love you, Buck," you whisper.

Bucky nods his head a few times as he leans back, reaching out for his suit jacket that was behind him on the floor. If you were going to read him your vows, it was time for his. He pulls the crumbled paper out and holds it up. Your eyes widen in surprise, you did not expect him to have his own ready.

"I keep this thing with me wherever I go, I think I've crossed off a lot of things that didn't sound right," he says, showing you the paper for a moment. "May I?"

You nod your head. Bucky clears his throat, then begins:

"I'm not a man of many words, though I'd like to be, because life has passed me by and my only regret has been not telling you that 'I love you' enough. I know that you'll argue and say that I do, but I don't, because I should have told you the second we met and every moment after. Every single silence should have been filled with me saying those words to you.

"I knew it, I always did. What is there not to love? Your kindness? Your intelligence? The way you make sure to always keep my side of the bed warm when I get home late because you know I hate when it's cold? If I am the man worthy of your love then I have done something right in this world. I'll never take this love for granted, not ever.

"Maybe in another lifetime we found each other sooner, but in this lifetime we found each other exactly when we needed it. I always needed you. My life has been a constant tidal wave and you were the only one to swim me ashore. Now I can breathe, and you and I sit in the sun and bask in the warmth, where we belong.

"I'm sorry there aren't many words to explain how deep my love for you is, but I hope that every single day I can show you instead. I promise to be your partner, your best friend and your protector. And from now until my dying days I love you, I love you, I love you and I love you."

The paper in Bucky's hand is now splattered with teardrops, the once black ink now smudging across the off white paper. But it doesn't matter, none of it does, the vows are just a promise, one that the two of you had already made years ago.

You crawl over to him and wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his lap. There's a few silent tears shed as you hold each other close, but nothing neither of you haven't seen before. It’s a rare moment of intimacy between lovers.

When Bucky pulls away to look at you there's a smile, not a sad one, but a grin so wide the corners of his eyes crinkled.

"We forgot rings."

"I know," you nod. "Do you have a pen?"

Bucky nods, reaching back into his suit pocket again and pulling out a ballpoint pen. You grab his hand and click the pen to expose the tip, writing your initials on the inside of his ring finger. He does the same shortly after — not a permanent solution, but a symbolic one.

He kisses the back of your hand a few times then begins to stand, lifting you to your feet and into his arms. Neither of you untangle from each other, instead opting to slowly sway back and forth in the middle of the kitchen, never wanting to let go. There was no music playing, there didn't need to be.

You and Bucky were starting your forever with whispered I love you's, hand in hand, head first.