#Or Bucky having to go to a different school after getting used to the private school life because of his parents financial troubles

[jakes3resin]

Hmmm thinking thoughts about Modern Clegan Break Up Fight AU

Just the pair getting into a fight because Bucky wants to go public about their relationship, but Buck doesn't understand why. Their close friends know, and they know. Who else needs to know? Buck asks this, and Bucky says he wants everyone to know. He wants to do all the cheesy romance shit like meeting the parents and siblings and stuff. Bucky wants to go to parties or events with Buck as his date. He wants to go out on public dates where people see them and know. Buck says he likes their private dates, and he likes how they don't have to be a side show for the people they go to school with (university not high school).

They go back and forth until finally Bucky bursts out that he wants everyone to know because he doesn't want to be the one left behind anymore. Bucky's the good time guy, or so everyone who's ever hooked up with him or gone out with him has said. He's scared that Buck will eventually agree with them (like Buck ever would but Bucky is scared). So now he wants to prove to Gale that he's serious about this, serious about them.

But, Buck's scared in his own way. His dad's still in the picture, and he would rather die than let his shitty excuse for a father anywhere near Bucky. Because his dad is the type to show up and try to teach the boy dating his son a lesson. Except he doesn't say that to Bucky. He says John I don't want to go public with this.

Poor Bucky takes that the exact wrong way. Usually he can read Buck like the back of his hand, but right now he's too emotional and stuck in his own head. He can't see past the facade right now. They start to really argue, building off of each other's energy until finally Bucky says that he can't be with someone who feels like they have to hide being in love with him.

Bucky storms out saying they're over. Heads back to his apartment where he tries to calm down and breathe. He goes and drinks some water to calm down. Except he accidently slices his hand open dropping his water glass. He gets blood all over his bathroom trying to fix it. That's how Curt finds him.

Curt is Bucky's roommate. He wasn't even supposed to be there that weekend. He was actually supposed to be in a different state for a concert the next night, but he forgot his wallet and turned back around after only being on the road for an hour. He finds Bucky bleeding and crying his eyes out, telling himself that that's what he gets for trying to be more than a good time. Curt goes into lockdown mode cause that's bullshit. He cleans Bucky up, and when Bucky looks at him with bright teary eyes and says he and Buck broke up, it's heartbreaking. Bucky sniffles and says he doesn't know what to do because he can't face anyone after this. Curt stuffs Bucky into his car and books it. Bucky forgets his cellphone in the apartment in the rush to get out of there. He realizes it a few hours later when it's too late to turn back.

Buck, meanwhile, has had his panic attack and calmed down. He knows that neither of them were in a good place for that argument, and he gives Bucky some space (a few hours) before he shows up to try and talk to him again. Only Bucky isn't at his apartment, and when Buck can't find him at any of the parties or bars on campus or with their mutual friends, he starts to get scared. Bucky's phone goes straight to voicemail over and over again. Buck goes back and breaks in (uses the spare key Bucky gave him) only to stumble upon an apartment trashed and covered with blood. He freaks out and calls everyone he can think of. Everyone joins the search, and it turns into a whole thing.

Hospitals get called, and then the cops get called, who since they're college town cops are suitably useless. Buck spends the next three days thinking Bucky hurt himself or was hurt bad enough he can't make it to one of their friends or a hospital.

Bucky is having a lovely time by the way. He managed to get a ticket to the concert, maybe Curt had an extra, and it's a great band. He's still heartbroken, but sometimes you just have to scream along to some artist you only learned about yesterday cause it's better than crying. He and Curt end up so hungover the next day that they don't get on the road back to their university until it's super late. They don't tell anyone they got back in town and pass out not knowing everyone in their life thinks Bucky is missing.

Bucky shows up to classes the next day, and he doesn't understand why Brady loses his shit when he sees Bucky walking around campus like their entire friend group hasn't been losing their shit all weekend. Brady drags him away even though Bucky's whining about missing his morning class.

Big reunion scene back at Bucky's apartment where Buck breaks down in tears because he's just so fucking relieved Bucky is okay. They work through their shit, and Bucky has to promise never to go on anymore impromptu road trips.

[kayhi808]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged a couple weeks ago by @gordopickett and I kept missing my Wednesday, but TODAY i remembered & set aside time after work to do this. HAHA! Thank you so much for tagging me by the way!

I've got a couple WIP so, I'll add just a lil bit from each.

Now & Then

***Bucky and Steve lost someone very close to them during WWII which may have instigated the need to enlist for both men. Flash Forward to Pre-Sokovia Accords. Steve is on the search for Bucky after getting pulled out of the river by him. He thinks he may have found him...***

They found heat signatures for a small group in what they thought was an abandoned HYRDA facility. No more than 8 people. A walk in the park for 3 skilled Avengers! Iron Man blasts through the doors, making an entry for Steve & Natasha. Quickly they notice that its a small lab mainly consisting of researchers & 2 Hydra Agents.

They were expecting a fight and was taken aback by the Agents gunning down the staff. Once the Hydra agents realized the lab had been compromised, they started tying up loose ends. Getting rid of the evidence. Because of that small pause Tony and his team were only able to save one technician, before killing the Agents.

As Natasha zip-tied the techs wrists behind her back, "You have to get the Asset."

Steve's head whips around, "What did you say?!"

"In the other room, there's cryo-chambers. Everyone is gone, no one will tend to the asset."

Did Hydra get Bucky back? Was that why him & Sam haven't been able to locate him? Did he go back to them?? "Where is he?!!"

"Through those doors..." Steve and Tony rush to the connecting room. Along the farthest wall, there are 3 cryo-chambers, but only one is filled.

Pretty

***You had a quick situationship with Billy Russo while in Grad School & he was horrible to you. Years later you're a part of the team to assign government contracts. Russo's Anvil are one of the companies up for assignment.***

Dressed in a winter white pant suit, you wanted to make an impression but still be professional. The last thing you wanted to do was blend in with the men in their dark suits or be mistaken for someone's wife/girlfriend. A plus one. You grabbed your chardonnay when you see your boss waving you over again. You internally groan but paste a smile on your face & walk over.

"Bill, I'd like you to meet Y/N, our Lead Analyst." The world seemed to come to a halt as he turns, extending his hand to you in greeting. "Bill. Bill Russo. " His large, callused hands enveloped your soft smaller one. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You as well." He looks the same, yet so different from the young marine you used to know. His bespoke suit fitted him to a T. Beard perfectly lined, not a hair out of place. Dark eyes you got lost in so many times before. You have to remind yourself that his charming smile & pretty face hides a cruel heart.

Stays in Vegas

***You had a one night stand with the handsome security guard at a private poker tournament your were working. The morning after.***

Billy slowly drifts back into consciousness. He stretches his arm across the bed to pull your warm body closer, but all his fingers find is cool bedsheets. Popping his head up & scanning the room, he finds himself alone in his hotel room. That minx! Did she fucking leave him? How'd she leave without him waking up? Normally, a light sleeper due to his line of work, he rolls over to grab his phone from the nightstand. 3pm. Shit! He didn't realize he slept so long. You did wear him out. The things you did with your mouth set his blood on fire.

[sunnyie-eve]

7 | Wolves Vote

Series: A Zombie's Serenity 

Paring: Zed Necrodopolis x OFC Buchanan!

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Might be a few mistakes, and I'm using Brenna D'Amico as how the OC's looks

| MASTERLIST |

~~~

While putting things in my locker towards the end of the day, I feel eyes on me down the hall. I turn my head to see the werewolves staring at me and it made me uncomfortable. "Can I help you?" I take a deep breath in before shouting out at them. 

The whole group makes their way to me as I stand at my locker. "Are you related to the cheerleader with white hair?" The leader asks me. 

"She's my cousin. Why are you asking me?" I ask confused. 

"You have more white than just a strand like us." The other girl looks at my hair. 

"It looks that way. You all were born with a streak?" I see they all had it. 

"All werewolves do." The boy speaks up. 

"Cool." I tell them. 

"I'm Wyatt, my sister Willa, and then there's Wynter." He introduces the three of them. 

"I'm Serenity."

"You know anything about the moonstone?" Willa asks me. 

"If your talking about the thing that our settlers hid from y'all, then no. Tell me if I'm right though, they actually stole it from you. Not the way other way like they say." I close my locker. 

"They did steal it and we want what's ours back." She tells me. 

"I wish I could help you. I have no clue where they hid it." I say making her walk off and they all follow except Wyatt. 

"Have you ever thought you were something more?" He asks me. 

"You mean not human... no." I laugh. 

"You could be a werewolf... your hair is unique." He touches it. 

"I doubt it. There's nothing special about meeee." I get yanked away from him.

"I swear if you develop feelings for a werewolf..." Bucky says dragging me away. 

"What? I was just having a conversation." I laugh. 

"A zombie is dangerous but a werewolf is much more dangerous. So don't catch any feelings, got it." He finally stops. 

"Got it." I agree making him smile. 

"That's my sis." He walks off leaving me confused why he would assume that. 

"You're coming home with me." Eliza rushes past me grabbing my hand. 

"I am?" I laugh confused. 

"Yes. I'm sick of the the boring three colors in your closet." She makes me laugh.

I spend hours with Eliza till it was time for curfew because the laws were back. "You got your hair curled." My dad speaks as I walk into the house. 

"Yeah, Eliza did it. And also gave me some new clothes." I take everything to my room then go back downstairs for dinner. 

"I can't believe there's werewolves in school. First zombies now them. What's next?" Bucky complains as we eat. 

"Vampires?" I joke but no one thought it was funny. "No, okay... How about mermaids? We live in Seabrook." I smile but again it was silent. "I'm done." I give up and just eat my food.

~

"New look, sweetheart?" My mom stares at me while I get a glass of water before leaving for school. 

"Thought I'd shake it up." I give her a smile as my dad comes in dropping his coffee cup while he looks at me. "You dropped your cup." I look at the broken pieces on the floor. 

"I'm not cleaning that up, Ted." Mom tells him. 

"Where's your normal clothes?" He asks me. 

"In my closet still. I'm slightly tired of the bright colors. At the private school, our uniforms were mostly black but with other dark colors." I shrug my shoulders. 

"I like it honey." My mom gives me a smile and glares at dad. 

"It's a good difference." He forces a smile making me laugh. 

"Okay. I'm gonna get going. Love y'all." I leave the house.

When I get to school a few people look at me weird since humans still mostly stuck to our same old three colors. Ever Zombie that look at me have me a thumbs up at least making me feel good. As I make my way towards Eliza and Zed, she sees me and smiles, "It's like I'm looking at a whole new woman." She says making Zed turn his head to look at me. 

"I have you to thank." I smile at her. 

"What?" Zed speaks. 

"Yesterday after school she came home with me and I decided to spice up her closet. She looks good, right?" Eliza nudges me. 

"Yeah." He smiles eyeing me. "Vote Zed for prez." He holds out a flyer. 

"You had my vote from the start." I let him know. 

"Really?" He asks. 

"Yeah, just don't tell Bucky or I'll never hear the end of it." I laugh. 

"Good luck, Mr. Future President." Addison shows up then eyes me. "New look?" She asks. 

"Thanks to me." Eliza smiles proud of herself.

"Hey Zed, did you hear? Addie's being tested for captain, and she gets to run cheer practice tomorrow." Bree rushes up to us. 

"It's not a big deal." Addison shakes her head the agrees it's huge. 

"If Addie aces this practice, oh my gosh, she's so going to be cheer captain once Bucky wins. He's so gonna win, because you know, elections, they're just like theses big old popularity contests. And Bucky is super popular." She catches on after Zed thanks her. "I know it's weird I'll only be cheer captain is Bucky's president, but..." Zed cuts in on Addison. 

"No, that means neither of us can lose because one of us is going to get what we want." Zed tells her. 

"You'll do great, Zed." She steps closer to him leaning up but he quickly holds out a flyer stopping her.

She looks at it and he just smiles waiting for her to take it. Once she does he heads off to pass out more. Eliza looks at me with wide eyes trying to hold back a little laugh. "Ignore the Acey's, because I know you'll become captain." I tell Addison before heading to my locker to get a textbook for class. 

"I really like this look on you. It's very zombie." Zed leans against the lockers next to me. 

"Well it came from a zombie so..." I give him a look as I open my locker, "It's gonna be very zombie." I let out a small chuckle. 

"Is it just me or are you acting like I'm annoying you?" He moves to face me. 

"It's just you." I pull out my book. 

"I'm sorry." He sighs. 

"What are you apologizing for?" I close my locker.

"I don't know. I feel like I should be." He steps closer to me looking down at me. 

"Well don't until you have a reason." I step back but he just kept stepping forward. 

"Hey, we have an election to focus on." Eliza pulls him away from me. 

"Right. With cheer fans in Bucky's camp, and zombies and the football team in mine, the school's split right down the middle. Werewolves are the swing vote." Zed watches them as we walk the halls. 

"Wolves are key to winning this election." Eliza looks at him. 

"But winning over the wolves is going to be hard." I add. 

"Trust me, I got this. We're going to win the wolves votes, and more. We just have to show them how to fit it, like us. Easy." Zed says like it was nothing but when the wolves goal he gasps.

"How exactly to you plan on winning them over?" I ask him. 

"I don't have a plan yet but don't worry. I got this, babe." He heads to class. 

"Babe?" Eliza and I repeat and look at each other. 

"He's losing it." She sighs. 

"You don't say." I agree with her and we head to class. 

During the last class of the day the teacher pairs me with Zed for the homework assignment. I look behind me and he just smiles at me, "Wanna come over and work on it after school?" He asks me. 

"Sure." I agree and he nods his head with a big smile.

After school before Zed wanted to work on the homework, he wanted to go talk to the werewolves first. "Hello wolves, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Zed, zombie, football star, presidential hopeful." Zed puts his hand it to them and they stare at it so he laughs weakly, "Okay." He gives up. 

"When zombies first came to Seabrook, we were outsiders, too. Not very well liked by others. Which is why you need a great president like Zed to represent you." Eliza tells them. "We'd be honored if you guys joined us." She adds.

"Our pack is our pack. We don't need anyone else, so..." Wynter stands up. 

"Who doesn't want more friends? Underneath all that fluffy hair, I bet you're a real softie." Zoey looks up at her. 

"I am a mean, mean werewolf, kid. I am tough and rough." Wynter bends down to her level. 

"Aww, you said ruff. Like a sweet little puppy dog. Ruff, ruff!" Zoey says making me smile at her. 

"We are beasts of the forest, we will never be tamed. Oh boy. Oh wow, that's great. Oh wow." She stops acting tough when Zoey scratches behind her ear.

"We're nothing like you zombies." Willa stands up. 

"You sort of are. Your moonstone necklaces are powered, right? Kind of like their organic Z-bands." I motion to her necklace. 

"You're smarter than he looks." She tells me and Zeds face falls making me laugh/

"Thanks, and I am smarter than him." I tell her.

 "That necklace keeps you from fully wolfing out?" Zed tries to touch her necklaces so she smacks his hand away. 

"The opposite. Our moonstones make us our true werewolf selves." She explains. 

"So without it you'd be human?" Zed asks. 

"No, we'd die. We'd be nothing." She tells him.

"Imagine how alive you'd feel if you didn't have to tamp things down. Hold back your true selves." He changes the topic. 

"Actually, Eliza has a theory." I point at her and she tries to say we might've evolved beyond our need for the band but Zed stops her. 

"Z-bands are great. They help you fit in. And I think you guys would have a much better time at Seabrook if you just followed in our footsteps. Join a club, play football. I'll even teach you how to tackle. Just lighten up. Be more like us." He tells them so they get up to leave.

"Do it like the zombies do. Brush your fangs when you wake up. Comb your hair, do your make up. Sleep at night, don't stay up. Do it like the zombies do. Don't stand out when you're fittin' in. When in doubt, do the opposite." Zed gets their attention while Zoey and I watch. 

"Don't listen to him, he's a hypocrite." Wyatt and Willa tell the pack. 

"Do it like the zombies do. All you got do is give an inch, then we gon' take it to the top. Do it like the zombies do." Zed tells them.

"When the moon is full, no howling." Willa comes back at him. 

"Don't run in the halls, no growling." Wyatt joins in. 

"Let's go to the mall, start styling. Do it like the zombies do. Trim your claws, get a manicure." Willa gets sassy. 

"Cut your bangs, leave it on the floor." Wyatt adds. 

"Now wag your tail like a Labrador." Wynter shakes her imaginary tail. 

"Do it like zombies do. All you got do is give an inch then we gon' take it to the top. Do it like the zombies do, don't stop." Zed goes under Wyter's arm before grabbing her hand to make her join but Wyatt moves are away.

"Stand up, stand up, stand up straight, do your homework. Smile a lot when you network. Did I mention no one gets hurt?" Zed puts his arms around Willa an Wyatt before elbowing him in he chest. "Do it like the zombies do. I hope you're open to my advice." He hands them two hats. 

"Oh, it's invaluable to us, right?" Willa asks. 

"Huh, sounds like this could be a paradise." Wyatt says it sarcastically. "Do it like the zombies do." They take the hats off throwing them to the ground.

"Why should we change? They should be like us. Yeah, he may eat brains, but he's got no guts." Willa makes the wolves laugh. "He's gone insane, yeah, he's acting nuts. Come on, we've got moves to bust." Wyatt says before they all join together and Zoey and I copy the dance of the the side having fun.

All you got do is give an inch then we gon' take it to the top Do it like the zombies do, don't stop Do it like the zombies do

Wynter tackles Zed as he spins a football on his finger making all the wolves laugh then all howl. "Ugh!" Zed groans in pain.

[niobiumao3]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you so much to @eclec-tech for the tag! Quite the trip down memory lane.

How many works do you have on AO3?

86

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

529k

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Star Wars, Star Trek, MCU, various others here and there

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

All MCUs with one LotR piece--not super surprising, though, the MCU is such a MONSTER huge fandom.

Jane Foster's High School Reunion The Sky Cannot Ignore Us Maria Hill’s Bi-Annual Performance Review Nothing's Wrong When Nothing's True The Health Benefits of Knitting

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to repond to all of them with at a minimum a thank you. I've got a bit of social anxiety so it's hard for me to do it, but I try to make sure to get them all as a way to work past that.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

So I don't typically do much with angst of my own; I use the angst of the setting, largely. I guess 'Stormchild' is the best option here given everything that comes after it in canon.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably The Obloquy of Newness, since it ends with Jane getting a Nobel Prize.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I never have that I can think of. Maybe I come across as a little too 'fuck around and find out'? Not sure why not.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do on rare occasions but I post very little of it. If 'what kind' is referring to kinks, I'm kink light in what I write.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I don't know if I've written a proper crossover. I like the idea of them but have never actually come up with an idea I liked enough to fic. I've done a Daemon AU piece, but that's not properly a crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I did have a number of my fics reposted on one of those reposting sites and have to DMCA them, which was a hilariously weird thing for anyone to do and I still boggle at it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have not! That would be super cool.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not that I've posted; a friend and I have cowritten several things which will remain private.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

This is kind of a tough one. I love them all for so many different reasons, so I don't think anyone is an all-time fave over the rest. Nicky/Joe (gay immortal hubbies) from The Old Guard continue to be something I read so much of despite not writing for them; Jane/Thor (nerd socially inept woman and godlike warrior, whats not to love) are an old standby from the MCU alongside Sam/Bucky (bickering to lovers) and Sarah/Bucky (cute overload); I still have a soft spot for Dick/Babs from the DCU, my new faves are Tech/Phee and Miles/Gwen…

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Unshriven. I have a solid idea for it, I just can't get the energy to write for the MCU anymore. A shame, I liked my idea.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I would say dialogue and world-building.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Repetitiveness, being willing to cut out unneeded things or convert them from exposition to action scenes.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I always write it in English and indicate the language if the POV character would know; otherwise, I indicate they don't know what's being said and suggest or state the language. This is simply because I don't know another language to write in; if I were multilingual I would no doubt approach this differently.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

TSR's Dragonlance. It will never see the light of day.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Hm. At the moment I still like how Obliquity turned out despite it being wholly unplanned from the word go. So that's probably my favorite just now; prior to that I'd have said Jane Foster's High School Reunion due to how nicely it all gelled together.

NPTs: anyone who sees these! Let us know~

[cable-knit-sweater]

@otp-holic said something about private school Bucky & struggling Steve and I’m not sure I can write a fic about it but here’s a mood board 😂

If you want to run with it/use the mood board for a fic feel free 😘

[coffeecatsandcandles]

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭-𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈- 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬

➵ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | widow!dad!teacher!Bucky x f!teacher!Reader (ft. Rebecca Barnes and other friends)

➵ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.6k

➵ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Angst, slow burn, enemies to lovers, mention of death (via car accident) and disability (bucky’s arm), grief and self-destructive thoughts.

დ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | დ 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

You had to be a little more stern than usual with your students for gossiping about what happened between you and James. Thanks to the teenagers, word spread quickly about how you’d aggressively defended your student after James unceremoniously yelled at him for having his hood up.

“Okay, we know that probably wasn’t the smartest thing for me to do,” You admitted to your last class of the day, “and I shouldn’t have acted that way.”

“He shouldn’t have yelled at Peter!” One student at the back of your class interjected, to which his peers nodded in agreement.

You defensively raised your hands up. “Okay, regardless, I could’ve handled that better. So don’t go making the same mistakes I did, is all I’m saying. There are better, less confrontational ways to speak your mind.”

“Well, I don’t wanna say Mr. Barnes deserved it, with what happened to his wife and all… and his arm,” a girl in the front row spoke, “but he doesn’t have to be such a dick all the time.”

“Cassie, language. Please.” You said, “And exactly what I’m saying. Yes, we both could’ve acted differently, and I just escalated the situation. And don’t go saying things about his life like that. He’s… hurting.” You sat back down at your desk, taking a quiet, deep breath. You hoped word hadn’t gotten out to the principal about your outburst. It was only your first week, and you’d already lost your cool.

Leaving the conversation didn’t stop your students from continuing to gossip.

“Wait, what happened to his wife?”

“She died a few years ago.”

“My sister had him that year. It happened in October but he was out for the rest of the school year.”

“Well, yeah… he lost an arm. You can’t just recover right away, you have to learn how to do things all over again.”

“Apparently he used to be cool. I guess that just messed him up and now he’s a dick.”

“Wait, he lost his arm?!”

“Duh, why do you think he wears long sleeves all the time?”

You could’ve butt in again. You could’ve told them to stop talking and get back to work. But you sat in silence, simultaneously worrying if your job was at stake and hurting for James. There was once a heart in him, there was once a good guy. You thought you’d seen a part of it before things went south at your parent-teacher conference months ago. You wondered if he was short tempered with Rebecca.

It all felt too personal, like you had too intimate of a look into his private life and you couldn’t untangle yourself from the web you’d created.

The dismissal bell rang, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Have a great weekend, make sure you put your calculators back if you borrowed one today.” You watched your students file out of the classroom and to their lockers, most of them waving goodbye to you and telling you to have a good weekend as well.

Once your classroom was empty, you took in another long, deep breath, much louder this time. You didn’t have the energy to think about what would happen if the principal found out about you confronting James anymore. For now, you just wanted to focus on your weekend.

Meanwhile, James had let go his final class of the day, waiting patiently for his lifelong friend, Steve, to drop off Rebecca. James and Steve had known each other since they were kids, and he trusted him more than anyone to take care of Rebecca. He’d been James’s lifesaver after his wife died and as he attended physical therapy, always being available to watch Becca or bring her home or to the high school if James couldn’t. Right now, James was staying in his classroom so a senior could make up a test they’d missed and wouldn’t have the time to pick up his daughter.

“There you are, Daddy! I’m gonna get you!” Rebecca exclaimed upon arriving at her father’s classroom and racing in, landing in his lap. James’s student looked up, briefly distracted, before quickly returning to their test.

“Bec, sweetie. I got someone taking a test, you gotta be quiet right now.”

“Sorry, Daddy.” Becca whispered, bringing her index finger to her lips and smiling, a trick she’d learned from you, though James didn’t know that. James sweetly kissed his daughter’s forehead, then carried her out to the hallway where his best friend was waiting.

“Thanks so much again,” he said, keeping his voice low so his student could focus, “I owe you one. Cesario’s tonight?”

Rebecca let out a tiny gasp, “Pizza?!”

“That’s fine by me, and how can I say no to this little face?” Steve said, leaning down and pinching Rebecca’s cheeks, causing her to giggle.

“We can share a big slice this time, Uncle Steve! But I get to pick the toppings.”

“Whatever you say, sweet pea.” Steve said, then turning to his friend, “And you know you don’t have to get me back. I’m always willing to help. I’d be happy to be Becca’s unpaid manny.”

“Unpaid what? Jesus, Steve-“

James was cut off by a gasp from his daughter. “Daddy! Look!” She pointed at you as you made your way to the front of the building, about to call it a day. Before James could even say anything, Rebecca ran up to you and hugged your legs, having missed her favorite teacher so much.

“Hi Rebecca! Oh my goodness, you got so tall!” you engulfed her in a hug. You hadn’t anticipated putting on your kindergarten teacher voice today, but you managed to find it again after not using it for so long.

“Daddy says that I’ll be taller than him one day,” she said, turning around to face James, who was awkwardly standing a few feet away from you and his daughter with Steve, as if he was avoiding intruding on your moment.

“I bet you will be.” you smiled, “Are you having fun in first grade?”

She violently nodded. “Yes I am! It’s like kindergarten but better!”

“Who’s your teacher?”

“Mrs. Parker. She’s nice.”

“Yeah, she is. Can you tell me one thing you’re learning about?”

Rebecca smiled, and you noticed that a tooth on the bottom row was missing. “Caterpillars!”

“Caterpillars?!” You asked enthusiastically, “Do you know what they turn into?”

“Butterflies!” She leaped a little as she said it. She was so smart and enthusiastic, you wondered where she got that from.

“Well, it was good seeing you, Rebecca. I hope you continue to enjoy first grade. Mrs. Parker knows a lot about reading and writing, I’m sure she’ll be able to teach you whatever you want to know.”

“Wait, don’t go!” she said, causing James to attempt to peel Rebecca away from you, “Daddy, can she please get pizza with us? I miss her so, so, so much!” She turned to you, “Can you, please?”

Steve decided to butt in as well, but not to try to take Rebecca away. No, Steve was just fueling the fire. “Yeah, Barnes,” Steve nudged him with his elbow, “I don’t mind if she tags along. Rebecca does miss her so, so, so much.” Steve had known James his entire life. His best friend had a very specific look in his eye when he was looking at you. It was a look Steve hadn’t seen from James in a long time. Not since he met the woman who would become his wife. After losing her, he didn’t think he’d ever see that look again- until now.

“You must be Steve, you must’ve picked up Rebecca a few times,” you said earning a single nod from him, “and it’s okay, really. I don’t want to intrude.”

“Please???” Rebecca begged, you didn’t remember her being this persistent.

James looked down at his daughter, hiding the exasperation on his face. It was painfully clear how much Rebecca loved you. If this were any other teacher- like one he wasn’t starting to develop feelings for- he’d have no qualms. He feared that if you did tag along, he’d do or say something stupid that would make you hate him more than you probably already did. But then again, he’d made so many compromises with Rebecca’s happiness in the past few months. Trying to take her out of your kindergarten class, having Steve help with pick ups and drop offs, even little things like not letting her wear the clothes she wanted (instead settling on the clothes he picked), still neglecting how to do her hair how she liked, what kind of books she was reading, or even her new teacher’s name. The way he was acting was an exact opposite reflection of his love for his daughter. He’d move mountains for her, give her everything she wanted if he could, but being a single father was hard, especially to a little girl. “Well, if it’s alright with her, I don’t see a problem with it.”

James’s words shocked you. Was this the same man who made it clear that he didn’t like you? The same man who you’d yelled at not four hours ago?

“Um,” you looked at Rebecca’s face once more. She still had a glimmer of hope in her eyes, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to let her down. “Sure. Just let me go home and change first.”

“Yay!” Rebecca exclaimed, jumping in joy.

When you got home, finding the right thing to wear was another demon in itself. You weren’t sure why you felt the need to find a perfect outfit- you knew how James felt about you and that he was only doing this for Rebecca. But still, a part of you wanted to hold something over him- keeping some level of professionalism, of course. The thing about teaching high school was that you always had a chance of running into a student, whether it be at the grocery store or a sit-down restaurant, especially on a Friday night. They had part-time jobs and cars- they could be anywhere. You settled on some tighter-fitting jeans and a top that sat just above your cleavage. Not toosuggestive, but still cute enough.

Arriving at the pizza place, you spotted James and Rebecca sitting at their table almost immediately. You noticed Rebecca seeing you right away, her eyebrows raised, and though you couldn’t hear her, you could tell she gasped as she saw you. James stood, telling Rebecca to stay in her seat.

“Hey,” he said, not sure how else to greet you. A hug was too intimate, and a handshake was too… formal. He settled on sinking his hands into his pockets. “So, Steve had to cancel last-minute.”

Of course he did.

Steve knew to set it up and flake at the last minute. He wasn’t the type to cancel like this, but after catching on to the way James had been looking at you, it didn’t take a genius to see that he was starting to like you. Steve figured the best way for you two to get to know each other better was for him to be completely removed. So, he made up an excuse that he couldn’t go anymore, leaving you, James, and Rebecca alone.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” James said.

“No, it’s fine. I missed Becca. Besides, I feel awful about what happened earlier. I just felt the need to apologize.”

James sighed, “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. You were completely right to chew me out like that. I deserved it. I’ve been a jerk to you and we definitely got off on the wrong foot.”

You smiled. “Can we just… start over? As just coworkers? No grudges, no scolding and dirty looks. We don’t even have to be friends if you don’t want to be. Just coworkers getting pizza.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” James said, bringing you to his table.

Maybe James had a soft spot for you, after all.

Your waitress came to the table, and you couldn’t help but think she looked familiar.

“Kate?” James said, his eyes getting wider.

“Oh my god, hi Mr. Barnes.” The raven-haired teenager said as she stood, looking at James and then looking back at you. Now you recognized her. After getting a good look, you realized she was a student of his- so she must’ve been a junior or senior- whom you recognized from the hallways. Her locker was just a couple of feet away from your classroom.

You knew something like this would happen. You’d run into a student like this, subjecting yourself to more rumors at the school.

The three of you got over the initial awkwardness of the situation, ordering your slices and drinks as Kate went to ring them in.

You and James stayed relatively quiet throughout the night, making small talk but really only paying attention to Rebecca, who’d busied herself with the printouts of tic-tac-toe and a word search on the kid’s menu, and eventually, the slice of pizza she’d shared with her father. Though you’d moved past the awkwardness of the entire situation, there was still an elephant in the room. Earlier that day you’d become visibly angry at James, and now suddenly you were having dinner with him and his daughter? Even Kate seemed a little confused, avoiding eye contact with you two entirely and focusing only on Rebecca every time she came to check on your table.

“Don’t worry, she’s harmless.” James whispered to you once Kate left the table to retrieve the checks.

“What do you mean?”

“She doesn’t really talk a lot. I know what you’re thinking, I doubt she’d tell anyone.” James had read your mind.

You sat with Rebecca and colored with her while waiting for the bills to arrive. “This is so beautiful, Becca.” You said, holding up the drawing she’d made of you in a field of flowers, the only colors being the waxy blue and red the restaurant had provided. “I’m going to hang it up in my classroom.”

Kate had returned, only one check in hand. “Oh, I thought I asked to be on separate checks,” you said.

“Don’t worry, I got it.” James said, handing his credit card to Kate. Before you could protest, insisting to pay for your own meal, Kate left.

“James,” you sighed, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s fine. Take it as my way of apologizing.”

You swore you felt your heart skip a beat when he said that. Yes, you thought he was cute. You thought that from the moment you first saw him. But any attraction flew out the window the second he started acting rude to you. Now that he was actually being nice again, your heart began to flutter at the sight of him.

The three of you started to walk out of the restaurant, but not before waving goodbye to Kate. “I got that Revolutionary War test down, Mr. Barnes. I’m gonna ace it, just you watch.” Kate joked.

“You know what? Forget about the test.” James said, “I’ll find something else for us to do. Don’t spend all weekend studying, go have fun.”

Kate seemed shocked, like she were an explorer who had just spotted a rare creature. She, Kate Bishop, had witnessed a rare sighting. Mr. Barnes: the nice guy. The good teacher who cared about his students’ wellbeing.

“Wow, thanks!” she said, waving goodbye and going back to her other customers. She would later find a twenty dollar tip left for her by the same man. Something had changed in him, and she couldn’t help but feel like it was because of you.

James, now carrying a tired Rebecca, walked you to your car.

You noticed the change too, though you brushed it off as how he acted around his daughter. You’d evaluate if he really changed on Monday. Rebecca was falling more sleepy, the pizza now settling in her stomach and causing her to feel more sluggish. Her eyelids were getting heavy, and she muttered something that sounded like a goodbye to you.

“Thank you for this.” You said before getting into your car, “This was actually kind of nice.”

“Anytime. Seriously, we might have to do this again if it means she’s in bed before 8.” He laughed.

You wished him a good weekend and got in your car, managing to keep the butterflies in your stomach contained until you were in the safety of your own home.

James, on the other hand, was still getting over the initial shock of realizing he liked you. He also noticed the change in his behavior the second he realized it. He didn’t think it affected him as much as it did. Whenever he heard kids from the halls complaining about having his class and the amount of students who nearly failed his class, he would always brush it off as them being dramatic teenagers. But after a while, it got to him. It hurt his feelings, and he wanted to change, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Then you came along. Your patience with them, your understanding that yes, it can be difficult, but still being encouraging. Jealousy was what he first pegged it for, but now, he wanted more than just to be more like you. He wanted you.

He carried Rebecca, now fast asleep, into the house and managed to get her pajamas on without waking her. After tucking her in and turning on the night light, James kissed his daughter’s forehead and attempted to make his way to his own room.

“Daddy?” he heard Rebecca’s tired voice call before he left the room. James internally groaned. Just when he thought he could get some sleep.

“Yes, bug?”

“Can I have a new picture of me and Mommy?”

James’s heart split in two. Rebecca had turned to pick up the small frame that sat on her nightstand which included a picture of a newborn Rebecca and her mother.

“Your mom didn’t really like being in pictures. And she wasn’t really with the two of us for long, so this is the only one.” He said, sitting at the edge of his daughter’s bed.

“Can she take another one with me?”

“Bec, she can’t.” He felt tears brimming his eyes, “You know that. She’s not here anymore.”

“And she can’t come back?”

James shook his head. He looked away briefly when he felt a single tear fall, hoping Rebecca didn’t see. He knew that if she saw him crying, then she would start crying. “I know it’s hard to understand, Bec. You want real answers. Honestly, I don’t even really know what happened to Mommy. Nobody does. But I do know that she knows how much you miss her and that she’s always looking out for you.”

“Does she look out for you too, Daddy?”

That was a tough question for James to answer. He’d like to think so, but he wasn’t even confident in his stances on what happens to a person’s soul after they die. He was only saying these things to Rebecca so she’d feel some sort of ease. “Maybe,” he said, immediately wishing he could take it back and just say yes. He decided to steer the conversation in a different direction while also trying to get Rebecca to fall back asleep. “But hey, you got to see your old teacher again, huh? That’s pretty cool.” He started gently stroking her hair, which normally calmed her to the point where she could fall asleep.

“I wish she was my Mommy.” Rebecca managed to mutter before falling back asleep.

There it was. The very sentence that got him into all these complicated emotions.

He didn’t doubt that you would make an excellent mother to Rebecca. You loved her, she loved you, you were a natural with children of all ages. He was shocked to discover you didn’t have kids of your own. Your way of being was so warm, so welcoming. So maternal.

James almost physically hit his own head at the thought. If his wife was looking out for him, she’d be so annoyed at how he was dealing with this. They’d playfully have the discussion- ‘If I died, which one of my friends would you move on with?’ James would always use the cop-out answer, saying that he never wanted to imaging a world without her in it. She teased, saying that James’s answer was correct, though she still gave him a list of the friends she explicitly did not want him to move on with- just in case. He never imagined it actually happening.

If anything, especially now, he wished it’d been him instead. He’d always felt that way, but he couldn’t do anything about it now, not when he had a little girl to take care of.

He knew from those talks, though playful and meaningless at the time, that she wanted him to move on in case something like this happened. She didn’t want him to be alone forever, and though yes, his life would be different without her, he couldn’t sit and mope forever. If not for his own sake, then for Rebecca. Even from beyond, James’s wife could tell that Rebecca also needed a mom now that she was gone.

All these thoughts- knowing Rebecca saw you as a mom and wanting you two to be together- it took a toll on James. This couldn’t be just some innocent schoolboy crush that meant nothing. James had to be sure that what he was feeling was love- and that if you somehow felt it back, that you were a perfect fit.

[buckydarlin]

DRUNK PROCLAMATIONS ; bucky barnes

pairing: avenger!bucky barnes x avenger!female!reader

summary: a voicemail leaves many thoughts running through bucky’s head. his heart soars with happiness before it crashes back into reality - what if she didn’t mean what she said? bucky’s only solution is to avoid her like hell. he doesn’t want to hear the truth from her lips, ready to take back everything she said in her voicemail because he knows he’s not worth any of it.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: insecure bucky, mentions of drinking, swearing, angst with a happy ending

note: written as part of @pellucid-constellations​‘s love letters writing challenge! i used the prompt “and i’ve never felt like that before, but something about you makes me want to feel like that”. i hope you enjoy!

Bucky can’t fall asleep. 

This isn’t a shocking revelation, he’s had many nights where he would stare into the darkness for hours, preferring it to the images he would conjure up in his sleep. What’s shocking is the reason that is keeping him up this time. His phone lights up on the bedside table and his heart starts to race again, an automatic reaction no thanks to [Name].

His eyes fly over to his phone to find a notification asking him to update his phone software. Bucky supposes he’s glad for the dumb notification. If it was a text, or god forbid another voicemail, he might just have a heart attack. Yes, a voicemail is what’s gotten Bucky all worked up. He groans just at the thought, feeling like a love-sick high school boy.

Bucky closes his eyes, in a lame attempt to fall asleep but minutes pass by before they shoot open again and he reaches out to grab his phone and soon, he’s opening the voicemail from [Name] that he received hours ago. He’s glad that Sam taught him how to open his voicemails (though he could have gone without the ‘old man’ jokes).

‘Hey Bucky! Hope you’re doing alright back at the tower! We’re having a blast but I wish you were here right now’

He swallows the lump in his throat as he starts the voicemail. He assumes that she’s outside somewhere as he can hear muffled music in the background but for the most part, it’s quiet. Her words are slightly slurred and he knows it doesn’t take much for [Name] to get drunk.

[Name] had been the first person to try and become his friend ever since he arrived at the tower and through many trials and errors, she was finally able to break down the wall Bucky had carefully built around himself. [Name]’s friendship is now something that he holds dearly and somewhere along the way, he started to fall for her.

Initially, he chalked it up to [Name] being the first woman in decades to give him some semblance of attention that he started to mix friendly gestures with romantic ones but as time went by, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that his heart seemed to beat a little faster when she was around.

‘I know that you don’t really like big crowds so I’m not upset or anything. I know you try your best and it gets too much sometimes.’ 

It’s something that Bucky is insanely grateful for, how much she understands him. He was close to changing his mind about going out with the team after seeing [Name] in that little red dress but he just couldn’t deal with crowds tonight. Though she was disappointed about it, [Name] didn’t push him either. 

‘I think it would have been more fun with you though. Well, doing anything with you is more fun! We can go somewhere more private next time! Just you and me?

I really like spending time with you Buck, so it doesn’t matter what we do. As long as I can be near you, I’d do anything really’

His hand starts to shake at her words, just as it did the first time he listened to the voicemail. And he can’t even bring himself to listen to her list out different things to do or places to go as he prepares his heart for what comes after.

There’s a pause in your words - only the muffled music in the background and his racing heart reaches his ears until- 

‘I think I like you Bucky. No, I know I do. Friends don’t feel like this. Friends don’t say these things, do they? I don’t know, but I know what I feel for you is more that just a friendship. I might even love you and I’ve never felt like that before but there’s something about you that makes me want to feel like that. I don’t know, I think I’ve always felt the urge to gravitate towards you since we met, even if you were grumpy and closed off’

She giggles and Bucky relishes in it, her laughter is better than any music that’s been produced in this day and age. Hell, he’d listen to her laughter over his old 40′s records any day.

‘I wonder what it’s like to kiss you. I mean, I don’t want to overstep your boundaries but every time I watch you lick your lips, god Bucky, you don’t know what it does to me. I’d give you everything if you let me, Buck. You deserve it and a whole lot more. I-’

[Name]’s interrupted by someone, presumably Sam, who’s telling her to come back inside.

‘I gotta go for now, Bucky. I’ll see you when I get back at the tower, ‘kay?’

The voicemail closes as Bucky remains still, taking in her words. They come as much as a shock to him as it did the first time, no matter how many time he’s listened to it now.

Hours later, the team get back to the tower and Steve knocks on his door to make sure he’s alright. He can hear an intoxicated [Name] stumble through the corridors, wanting to do the same and he silently thanks Natasha when she steers [Name] into her own room, telling her that she can talk to Bucky sober in the morning, much to [Name]’s displeasure.

Bucky’s not sure if he’s ready to be confronted about the voicemail yet. Even if she boldly proclaimed her affections for him (albeit drunk), there’s a small voice that drips in the caverns of his mind. What if she didn’t mean it? Would she have meant them sober?

She doesn’t remember.

Bucky spent hours upon hours, bracing himself for the confrontation he was so sure would come up in the morning when she greets him in the kitchen, but there was nothing. 

“How the hell are you so chipper?” Sam grumbles, rolling his eyes as [Name] sticks her tongue out at him, “You could barely hold yourself straight up not even twelve hours ago”

“I’m just built better than you,” She jokes, laughing when Sam groans and holds his head when she ‘accidentally’ closes the drawer a little too loud.

Steve chuckles and Natasha can’t hide her smirk at the comment, “She’s got a point Sam. I mean, we’re all doing okay”

“Steve, you’re a super soldier and Natasha, you’re an assassin. I don’t even want to hear it from the two of you,” Sam sighs before pointing to [Name], “But she’s normal, like me. Well, not like me because she doesn’t get hangovers even when she drinks her weight in alcohol! Which is weird! You’re not normal, [Name]!”

[Name] laughs, not even slightly deterred by his comments as he continues to rant about her abnormalities. When she looks over to see Bucky quietly entering the kitchen and sit next to Steve, her smile widens, “Good morning, Bucky!”

He nods at her cautiously, the voicemail lingers in his mind, “Mornin’. Have a good night?”

If she notices that something’s off with him, she doesn’t mention it.

“I’m sure I did,” [Name] jokes, “I don’t really remember much of anything last night, if I’m being honest”

And it’s something that should fill Bucky with relief, but it doesn’t. She doesn’t remember. The thought manifests into something bigger. Did it even matter to her, if it wasn’t even worth remembering? Something that is so inconsequential to her but kept him up for hours, hoping that she meant every word she said.

“I did miss you though,” [Name] adds, snapping him out of his tortuous thoughts.

He’s glad that he’s trained himself to remain passive Bucky doesn’t know if he can ever get used to hearing those sort of things from her. Even if they were only said platonically. It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Sam interrupts, groaning loudly, “I already feel like throwing up without needing to see the two of you flirt!”

“Oh, stop it!” [Name] reprimands, playfully, “I’m not flirting with him!”

The comment hits his heart just a bit harder than it usually does (his previous thoughts didn’t exactly help either) and he feels the urge to be alone. So he abruptly stands up, interrupting the flow of conversation around the table and rushes back to his room for a moment of silence.

Bucky needs time to collect his thoughts, to stop making the voicemail more than what it is - a mistake. He should be grateful for her lack of memories. This means he can carry on as normal with her without making it weird or awkward for both parties. Because he’s sure that if she rejected him face to face, his heart would split open.

It’s a blessing in disguise. Something that he repeats to himself, in an attempt to convince himself that things are better the way it is. There were only two other outcomes - one which he’s sure would never happen - and Bucky doesn’t know how he would be able to be around her if he has to hear it from her.

A knock on his door brings him out of his trance and he hears [Name]’s soft and worrying voice through the wood.

“Bucky, is everything okay?”

A few seconds pass in silence as Bucky comes to terms with reality, to forget about the voicemail. He walks over to open his door, finding [Name] staring up at him with furrowed eyebrows. His hand twitches as he feels the urge to smooth out the wrinkles that appear due to her concern but he holds himself back.

“Yeah, sorry about that, I’m fine” 

He’s not sure that she believes him, but she doesn’t push him for the truth either. As he follows her back into the kitchen, he lets out a sigh.

He can do this, pretend that he’s not head over heels in love with [Name], it’s something he’s done for months. Because he’d rather keep her as a friend than not have her at all.

He’s a coward.

The fact that [Name] doesn’t remember confessing to him hurts him more than it should have. Bucky knows he should be grateful, really, because this means he doesn’t need to listen to her take back everything she said in her voicemail and he can carry on their friendship as if it never happened in the first place, but he can’t forget it.

He tried to go through the days as normal, as he always had until that night, but a couple weeks pass by and Bucky isn’t so sure he can keep up the facade anymore. So he does the next best thing he can come up with - avoid the hell out of her.

It’s not a good idea, he knows that but that voicemail has given him too much false hope. He used to be fine standing beside her but now he finds himself inching his fingers closer to [Name]’s, gazing at her just a little longer. He feels like a love-sick puppy following its owner around. 

Bucky feels guilty though, seeing the hurt and confusion on [Name]’s face when he starts hanging out with her less and less, but with her voicemail at the forefront of his mind and a confession of his own ready to spill from his lips, he figures this is the best move for some self-preservation. And to get rid of these feelings, he first needs to rid himself of her first, so he can come back a better man with no romantic feelings whatsoever (though that’s proving to be difficult regardless).

And despite knowing that something’s wrong, [Name] respects his boundaries, as she always did and gives him the space that he wants (though he doesn’t really want it). Which is why he doesn’t expect a confrontation.

There’s a loud knocking on the door and Bucky assumes it’s Steve checking up on him again. He’s been doing so the past few days as Bucky holes himself up in his room just as he did so when he first joined the team.

No matter how many times Bucky tells him he’s fine, Steve knows there’s no truth in his words at all. And while Bucky is grateful that his best friend cares deeply for him, it’s not really needed at the moment. 

But it’s not Steve.

[Name] is able to push him back into his room as she’s caught him off guard. Her eyes gleam with determination and anger and Bucky knows that he might not be able to avoid this situation any longer.

“Bucky, I can’t do this anymore,” Her words are sharp and he winces at her tone. Yeah, she wasn’t happy with him in the slightest.

“Tell me, what the hell have I done to make you avoid me?” [Name] asks him, cutting him off effectively when she sees his mouth open, “And don’t give me that ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ bullshit”

He closes his mouth, unable to think up of any excuse that would deter [Name] from dropping the subject. The silence stretches between them as he does his best to avoid her piercing eyes.

[Name] scoffs, looking away and Bucky takes this time to look at her. She’s not as angry as she was when she stormed into his room. Rather, she looks tired and frustrated and incredibly hurt.

“If I did something to hurt you,” [Name] starts, slouching against his desk, “Then I’m sorry” 

“You didn’t,” Bucky immediately clarifies, shaking his head, “God, [Name]. None of this is your fault”

“Then why are you avoiding me?” She questions, finally looking back at him. She looks as if she’s on the verge of crying and Bucky wants nothing more than to wrap her up in his arms, “One day we were fine and then suddenly we weren’t. I miss you, Buck”

He’s silent again, contemplating on whether to let the truth out or not as she stands up straight and suddenly, he’s in panic mode. [Name] looks like she’s about to walk out - maybe out of his life for good, tired of his shit. And he figures now is as good as any time to say everything that’s been on his mind. Because even if she might want space from him afterwards, if there’s even a slim chance that they can get back to their friendship, he’ll take it.

“That night,” His voice stops her from moving but he doesn’t look at her, “A couple of weeks ago where you and the rest went out. You left me a voicemail... telling me that you like me. Might love me, even”

And it’s [Name]’s turn to freeze up. He’s not sure what’s running through her head as he speaks and to be honest, he’s afraid to know. 

“And...,” Bucky’s voice breaks slightly and he clears his throat, “I know that it was just a mistake on your part. You were drunk, you weren’t in your right mind and you didn’t mean what you said. I mean...” How could you love someone like me? 

His heart constricts as the words get stuck in his throat so he moves on.

“You didn’t remember any of it the next morning and I saw it as a sign to pretend the voicemail never happened. But I can’t forget it, [Name]. I tried, I really did,” Bucky clenches his jaw, “I really wanted to, for the sake of our friendship but I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said to me that night. More than anything, I wanted it to be real.”

And there it was, he finally said it out loud. 

“I like you, [Name]. No, I’m in love with you. And I know I’m not good enough for you, someone as broken as me, you deserve more than what I could ever give,” He lets out a self-deprecating laugh, “But I keep clinging onto that voicemail because even if you didn’t mean it, I’ve never wanted anything more”

He waits to allow his words to sink in for her and prepares his heart for her next action. He just hopes whatever the outcome is, no matter how much space she needs away from him, she’ll allow him to stand by her again eventually.

The sound of his phone ringing makes him jump and when he eyes his phone lying on the bed, he’s confused to see [Name]’s picture on his screen. His eyes, cautiously yet questioningly, look over to her as she walks over. He’s unsure what to do but she reaches out to grab his wrist when he reaches over in an attempt to grab his phone.

[Name] only lets him go when she hears his voicemail message, staring up at Bucky as she speaks.

“Hey Bucky, it’s [Name]. Though I’m sure you know that,” [Name] gives him a half-hearted smile, “Last time I left you a voicemail, I told you that I think I’m in love with you. I’m not really sure what I said and I guess I can’t blame you for thinking I didn’t mean it because I was drunk. But I’m sober now, so listen carefully, alright?”

At this, Bucky straightens up. His heart is pounding so loudly, he’s sure she can hear it as well but doing as he’s told, Bucky takes in your words.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for a while and I suppose that’s why it hurt a lot when you suddenly began avoiding me. Though I wish you would’ve said something earlier because I could’ve loved you openly a whole lot earlier. I don’t want to hear that ‘I’m not good enough for you’ bullshit again, do you hear me? You are more than good enough, Bucky. And if you let me, I’ll love you in all the ways you deserve to be loved”

Bucky is stunned into silence. There’s various emotions running through him, confusion, surprise, doubt, but one feeling stands above all, an overwhelming happiness.

Bucky opens and closes his mouth several times, dumbfounded and at a loss of words. He’s so engulfed in his emotions, he’s not sure what to say.

“Really?” 

And she laughs, covering her mouth in attempt to conceal her laughter, “Yes Bucky, really” 

[Name] throws her phone on the bed and takes a step closer to him, slowly linking her fingers with his.

“I love you, Bucky,” She whispers, words meant only for his ears, “Will you love me back?”

“I already do, sweetheart,” Bucky grins widely, freeing one of his hands to reach up and cup her face, “I love you, so much. Fuck, this feels like a dream”

“It’s not, Buck. I promise you, it’s all real,” [Name] reaffirms, “Would you like me to write you a love letter to prove it? I’m sure that’s more your style, old man”

Bucky laughs, shaking his head, “This is better than any love letter I’ve ever received” 

And he means it with all his heart. The dozens of love letters he received back in the day couldn’t hold a candle to her voicemail.

“I’m gonna kiss you now, Buck,” She tells him, her lips ghost over his, “I’m going to show you how much I love you and how much you mean to me, you hear?”

“Loud and clear, doll”

[buckyownsmylife]

plagiarism and bullying

I am not sure how much readers of this community know about what’s been happening, but I know pretty much anyone who writes has been going through hell the last couple of months because of authors who have grown too big for their own heads - and have effectively managed to poison the entire community with their behavior, which is precisely what I feared.

And I am sick of it.

I am sick of what can only be described as psychological and emotional harrassment, done privately so people feel isolated and scared to post anything.

I am sick of people thinking they own tropes, alternate universes, clichés, pairings, characters, even GENERAL PLOT POINTS that no one can possibly possess and take ownership of.

I am sick of these same people being the ones who can’t see an idea being thrown in front of them before attaching themselves to it until the original author is forced to pull back on something they’ve been working on because this other person who they considered a friend posted it before (oh yeah. I know all about those of you who are calling out people as plagiarists while stealing WIPs from your friends).

So let me give it to you straight - and this is coming from someone who is actually a victim of plagiarism myself.

Every time one of you points a finger at someone else and shames them privately or even attacks them publicly for writing a story that has the same generic set-up (Steve finds your fanfiction, Bucky loses himself to the Winter Soldier, reader needs to be rescued by one of the supersoldiers) you’re doing all of the people in this community a disfavor, by 1. making everyone scared of publishing anything, because the entitlement for the littlelest things seems vindicated now and 2. you’re taking away from actual instances of plagiarism and authors who are having their entire works stolen.

Think of it this way: can I feel entitled to the concept of sex pollen? only one bed? in vino veritas? why can I feel entitled to this concept that I apparently came up with but that can be rewritten in a thousand different ways?

If someone else can take that generic summary and run with it in a way that’s their own, YOU WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO TRADEMARK IT. It ISN’T an instance of intellectual property and it most definitely isn’t plagiarism.

You all have common sense. Use it. It’s one thing to copy an entire premise of a series, keep the same AU and character and change the lines of dialogue. It’s an entire different thing to create your own stepfather Bucky series, or mobster Steve series, or Alpha all of Chris’ characters (here, have one of “my own” ideas), with your own premise, your own ideas for each chapter and the other details of their relationship with the reader.

Or are you telling me from now on, there can be no more alpha!Bucky’s heat taking over him suddenly, Steve and Reader have to share a bed on a mission, stories with reader, charles and lee as a pairing or any other unusual one? Is that what we really want? To be the only suppliers of a certain trope, pairing or au? Can you see how your ego is affecting the entire fanfiction community hee on tumblr? Why authors are giving up on providing their fictional universes to welcome us into after a lousy day?

If your work inspired someone else’s, there’s a simple way to resolve it: reach out to the writer, confirm it was actually inspired by yours and ask them to give you credit. Credit is the actual solution for works that have been inspired by other works, but not bullying, not threats, not forcing someone to delete their own versions of a story we’re all actually sharing because bottom-line? We are all stealing Marvel’s characters and placing them on Shakespeare’s plot lines and the only thing we can do about it is add our porn and our own personal interpretations, imagination and developments.

And that means, of course: writers, if your story was inspired by someone else’s, please give them the proper credit. As I’m sure you’re aware, we are very quick to identify when something is similar to our creations, and it’s a fucking awful feeling. It’s what created this whole witch hunt over plagiarism in the first place, but while in 8/10 cases it isn’t actually plagiarism, it fucking sucks and it could have been easily prevented when it was just a matter of recognizing you aren’t the seventh wonder of the universe and actually got the inspiration to write that story from someone else.

In the same way, DON’T STEAL PEOPLE’S IDEAS WHEN THEY TALK ABOUT THEM. And no, THAT’S NOT PLAGIARISM either, it’s just common decency. They might even be okay with you writing the same idea, but it’s always nice to let them know and give them credit. Especially if it’s someone you consider a friend, but even more so if it’s something you saw as a snippet of a WIP on your timeline (as a general rule, I wouldn’t work on anything I thought intriguing only after I saw someone else was writing it).

And finally, still keeping that other point in mind: you don’t have the right to stop someone from working on something similar to what you’re writing. Can you imagine how many people are writing, at this exact moment, stories with the same premise? Of course, once it’s out, there’s a high chance the projects will be completely different, since each writer made it their own. I am willing to bet most of them didn’t copy from one another, they just happened to be interested in the same things - which is often the case here, prevented you aren’t an asshole that does what I described in the last paragraph.

I don’t know about you guys, but I am excited to read more stories about magical boading schools and I definitely hope J.K. Rowling won’t stop me from getting that.

Similarly, I beg you. You want to write your mafia!andy series? Please, do. The world needs your story. Just make sure it truly is your story that you’re telling.

tl;dr: plagiarism is a real issue, but never an excuse to bully people and traumatize them from writing. Writers, learn the difference between plagiarism and inspiration. If you do think it’s actual plagiarism you’re working with, please follow the following steps:

Before accusing anyone from plagiarism:

1. Actually talk to them without threatening or manipulating them so you can understand what happened and let them know how you feel. 80% of the times they’ll apologize and give you credit for it. 

2. Unless you’re the reincarnation of William Shakespeare (and so being, you have the rights to all of the tropes and plot twists created in modern literature. go you!) - and prevented the “plagiarism” isn’t so obviously truly plagiarism, that it can be proven with two screenshots placed side by side - talk to someone unbiased who will tell you if what you think was stolen was actually stolen. There’s a good chance you’re being delusional and thinking the entire world is aware of your stories and looking forward to take advantage of your hard work on them.

A good rule of thumb? Don’t do to others what you don’t wish would be done to you, and make sure to apply that rule to the way you approach the situation and treat the person you were so quick to consider a villain. I’ve yet to see (in this community, since I got here) a situation where the writer accused of plagiarism when confronted has been anything other than kind and remorseful, ready to remedy the situation once it’s been brought to their attention.

If you’re so certain of being right, there’s literally no reason to be aggressive to someone who’s not treating you rudely.

[sunmoonandeddie]

and he kissed me right here

pairing: modern!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6,100

summary: I've always been sure that all I ever wanted was a glamorous life.

warnings: Cuss words, mentions of the Afghanistan war (Bucky is a veteran), angst, happy ending, cheesy romantic confessions, age gap

a/n:  This is based on the song 'Stars and the Moon' from Songs for a New World! It's the first one shot in my musical series! This is written in first perspective, but there is no physical description or use of a name in this!

Twenty-Two

I sighed as I tossed a few more dirty plates into the dish window, wiping my brow. After a shitty dinner rush and an even shittier rush around two in the morning consisting only of drunk ass college kids looking for some sort of carb to suck up all the alcohol in their systems, I was ready to go the fuck home.

“Sweetheart, you head on home now,” the head chef insisted as he watched my head nod slightly as I tried my best to fight off sleep. “Ain’t nobody comin’ in before Melissa gets here. No point in you staying on your feet any longer.”

Louis was a godsend. At sixty-seven years old, you’d think he would rather be anywhere but a diner at almost four in the morning.

“Nah,” he had said when I’d asked him a few months after I’d first started. “My Ginny died a few years back, and since she’s been gone, I don’t really have the stomach to sit around that house all alone.” He had laughed, but there’d been a deep sorrow that had come over his deep brown eyes. “Kids are worried, but… Sleeping the day away is better than laying up at night staring at her side of the bed…”

“You sure, Lou?” I asked even as I headed for the back room where all the employees clocked in and kept their possessions in their own little cubbies. I did my checkout in view of the security camera, just like always. I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I stole anything.

Everyone who knew me knew that I wouldn’t, but I’d worked at two many places where the girls tried backstabbing each other and sabotaging everyone else to get them fired.

Though people were a lot nicer in Louisiana than any of the other places I’d lived.

Louis chuckled as he set a to-go box in the window, nodding towards it. “Mmhm. Long as Buck is getting you home safe.”

I gave him a joking eye roll as I took the to-go box gratefully, grinning at my name written in all caps with green Sharpie on top. “You know you don’t have to make me dinner every night.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, shooting me a look. “How else do I know you’re getting enough food in you, huh?” He pointed his rag at me. “Now you go ask him to get you home. Tell him I said he can clock out, and that he’s supposed to text me when he sees you safe inside. You better not say you’re gonna ask him again just to walk yourself home.” The old man shook his head as I headed for the back door, muttering to himself, “Damn girl thinks I’m gonna believe she’s feeding herself good enough when she’s risking her damn ass walking home alone.”

Despite the fact that I’d put off asking for Bucky Barnes’s service, I really did appreciate how fiercely Louis cared about me.

It had been a real long time since anyone had cared so much.

I hesitated at the back door of the diner, my hand resting against the cool metal.

What if he said no?

Granted, he most likely wouldn’t. But what if he said yes, and he secretly thought me some dumb little girl that couldn’t take care of herself?

What did I care if he thought that?

“I don’t care what he thinks of me,” I huffed as I straightened my shoulders, holding my chin a little higher.

“Stop talking to yourself and get going!”

I jumped in surprise, before shooting a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “Stop listening in on my private conversations!” I demanded before storming outside with new found vigor.

Only to freeze when Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette.

God, he was handsome.

“You okay, doll face?” He asked, his New York accent a sharp contrast to the southern drawls you were used to.

“Um… Y-Yeah,” I said faintly, glancing back at the door that I’d come in from. “Um… L-Louis wants me to ask you… Can you walk me home? Or give me a ride? I don’t… I don’t know if you drive…”

“I do drive.”

“O-Oh. Okay. Great.”

“But I don’t have my car on me.”

I peered at him curiously. “Oh. Um… I can just walk by myself. I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be a nuisance…”

He stood up, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Don’t be ridiculous, darlin.’ Come on. I’ll walk you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he began to head for the street. “Besides… It’s a real nice night.”

“Oh…,” I said in surprise at how ready he was to be of service. “Okay. But only if you’re sure.”

A faint smile graced his lips as he glanced at the ground, letting out a faint chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m sure, darlin.’ But you gotta lead the way.”

I was surprised by the rapid pitter patter of my heart beat as we walked side by side down the street, the chorus of ‘Yellow Brick Road’ getting stuck in my head on a loop.

Bucky was an enigma that I found myself wondering about more often than not, but I always ended up talking myself out of going there. After all, he was an older man. A much older man. At least fifteen years older than my own twenty-two years, or something along those lines, not that he looked it. The man looked like some kind of rugged Greek god. Like Hades if Hades was born in the eighties. His dog tags clinked together under his shirt as we walked, his metal prosthetic glinting in the moon.

“So how did you end up in NOLA?”

It took me a moment to even realize that he was talking to me, my heart skipping a beat and my face going hot in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

His bright blue eyes flickered over to look me over. “How’d you end up in New Orleans?”

“I actually don’t know,” I snorted, avoiding his eyes as I kicked at a few broken up pieces of asphalt. “I just… Picked a bus ticket and ended up in one of the Carolinas. Then I picked another bus ticket and ended up in Minnesota. And then I picked another, and another, and another, and then I actually just… ended up here.” The months I’d spent alone on those Greyhounds felt both so long ago and also like it was just yesterday. “The diner was the first place someone recommended for food that’s good but cheap, and as I was eating my mountain of cheese fries, I saw the flyer that said they were hiring. So here I am now…”

“Huh,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t take you for the type of person to run off on your own… riding buses all over the country…”

Head tilting to the side, I gave him a long look. “You didn’t? What kind of type did you peg me for?”

Bucky gave me a long look, a single brow raised as though silently telling me that I jumped to conclusions. “Just that jumping from place to place can take a lot outta someone,” he said slowly, his voice low and soothing. “Hell, if you were my girl—” He broke off as his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, his long hair falling in his face.

I swore my heart had stopped inside of my chest, and I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat. “Oh?”

He rushed to try to correct his wording. “I-I just mean, a lady should be comfortable. And if I had a g-girl like you, well… You’d never want for anything,” he stammered, stumbling over his words like a flustered school boy. “Hell, I… I’d give you the stars and the moon…”

I was shocked into silence, staring up at him like he was the sun itself. “Bucky…”

“No, no, don’t say anything. I… I know that was a lot,” he insisted quietly, unable to meet your eyes as he stared up at the shitty apartment building you called home. “Hell, you probably don’t want a gross old man hitting on you.” His metal hand, glinting in the low light of the street lamp, reached up to brush against my cheek for just a moment before it quickly dropped. “Just let me walk you home each night so I can make sure you’re safe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, unable to take my eyes off of him as he took a few steps back.

There’s a somewhat playful smirk on his lips as he watched me stumble up the steps, continuously glancing back at him. “Goodnight, baby doll.”

“Goodnight,” I said, barely audible before I finally headed inside.

Bucky kept his word. He walked me home every night, and honestly, there wasn’t a moment that I wasn’t thinking about what he had said, about if I was his girl.

What if I was his girl?

But… with that meant I’d have to give up the life I’d dreamed for myself. I wanted luxury, to never worry about bills or where I was gonna get my next meal or if I could afford to buy the nice work shoes or if I could only get the cheap ones that would fall apart in three months and then I’d just be right back where I started.

I wanted the life that celebrities lived. Hell, I wanted to go to parties on the same yachts the Kardashian-Jenners did, even if I couldn’t fucking stand them.

And with Bucky… I wouldn’t have that.

“So why’d you go on the run anyway?” Bucky asked one night as we sat on the curb, eating ice cream in the Louisiana heat. “I know you told me how you got here, but you’ve never told me why.”

“You’ve never told me how you ended up here or why either,” I shot back, nudging his shoulder with my own.

Somehow the age difference seemed non-existent as we sat there. Honestly, I felt like we were just a bunch of dumb teenagers, shooting the shit and enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky took in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking in a way that made it look like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I was over in Afghanistan for a long time,” he admitted quietly. “When the war first started, I was 19. I had no idea where my life was going and I had no options except my dad’s mechanic shop. So I enlisted with my best friend, Steve. The one I told you about.”

It’s completely silent except for the sound of an occasional car horn off in the distance.

“Neither one of us knew what we were doing. We realized very quickly that we had no reason being over there, but… but there was nothing else,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The ice cream he was holding was melting in his trembling hands. “I didn’t know how to do anything else, so I stayed. Steve moved up in the ranks, but I stayed pretty low… I didn’t mind. Kinda liked being the older guy all those young kids could talk to, could rely on… Because they were just like me, getting into a fight that wasn’t theirs because they had nothing else.”

My heart was shattering inside my chest as I scooted a little closer, my knee knocking against his as I tried to give him some sort of silent comfort. He’d been through Hell and made it through.

Bucky let his head rest against mine, his eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of my perfume. “They eventually moved me to some kind of specialized team… Called us the Howling Commandos. I found out that Steve was heading it and he picked me to be part of it. That’s how I met Sam, because he was on some sort of similar team with the Air Force, except it was just him and his friend, Riley,” he continued, taking a bite of his chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. “I am proud to say that I didn’t kill a single person while I was over there. I just couldn’t. Hell, they’re people just like me, terrified and unsure of what’s going to happen.” His lips pressed against my forehead, letting it linger. “But then about five years ago, I was on a mission with the Commandos, Sam, and Riley, and… this bomb went off while we were playing a game of soccer. I wasn’t even in a fight. That thing took my arm and it took Riley.”

Tentatively, I let my fingers find his, holding his hand and squeezing reassuringly.

“Sam decided to come home with me.” There was a forlorn look in his eyes, as though he was right back at that game of pick-up soccer. “After losing Riley… he couldn’t find a reason to be over there. And then Steve decided to stay, and hell, he’s still over there, leading that fucking team…” Glassy baby blue eyes finally found mine, the both of us doing our best to not cry. “I couldn’t face my family for a long time, so Sam asked me to come stay in Louisiana with him and his family, and I haven’t left since.”

“Have you gone to see your family?” I asked slowly, almost like I was scared I’d frighten him if I spoke too loudly, like a wild animal. “Let them know where you are? That you’re safe?”

He turned to look at me, his baby blues shining. “You worried about me, baby doll?”

“I can’t help it,” I said honestly, unable to tear my eyes away. I hadn’t opened up to someone like that in so damn long. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

The way that I felt about Bucky absolutely terrified me, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. It snuck up on me, like a train coming around a bend.

I hated it.

“What do you want out of this life?” Bucky asked on one walk home, his arm linked in mine. He’d become so much more… tactile. If anyone took a moment to look at us, they’d think we were a couple on a romantic stroll.

Perhaps we were.

But I couldn’t help but grin as I looked up at the sky, taking in the warm air. “I wanna live like how the movie stars do… I want a big house on the beach and twenty cars and a yacht and… and…”

He looked at me long and hard. “And you never wanna have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, if you’re gonna have a place to sleep at night…”

For some reason, I’d felt a bolt of panic over whether or not he’d understand. Whether or not he’d think differently of me, but I should’ve known that he wouldn’t. Hell, he knew me better than anyone else.

“You understand,” I said quietly, my hand squeezing his bicep gratefully. “I want to live how the other half lives for once. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

A small smile graced his features as we shuffled along. “There isn’t. But… What about love?” He asked.

“Love?”

“Love.”

Love.

Could I even have love? Did I want it?

“I don’t know if there’s a lot of room for love in my plans,” I admitted after a long moment. “In my experience, love has always just been a lie. A word used to manipulate and eventually abuse.”

Letting out a snort, he let his fingers tickle down my tricep until his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’d show you it’s not… I’d show you what real love is,” he said. “I’d give you every part of me, give you all my strength to help you grow into who you wanna be, even if I don’t particularly care about being famous or rich…” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll give you a love story, a life, that’s a million times better than any recycled Hollywood plot… I’ll give you the stars and the moon, if you would just let me.”

I hated the way that he made my heart beat faster, the way my breath hitched. “Jamie,” I breathed out quietly, the two of us having stopped in our tracks to just… take each other in. Live in each other’s presence for a moment. “I…”

“You want a big life… one a lot bigger than little old me,” he said simply, shrugging. His blue eyes were so honest, so loving. So warm. A warmth I hadn’t ever experienced before. “I know. But that doesn’t change that I’m in love with you. And if you ever change your mind…” Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, pressing it into my free hand. “This is where you can find me. I figure it’s time for me to go home.”

We’d come to a stop in front of my building, and I was shocked at how tight my chest felt. My eyes watered as I stared at him long and hard. “Jamie, please… I⏤”

“Don’t say it. It’s okay,” he insisted as he cupped my cheek, letting his thumb run over my skin as though he was memorizing it. “I just want you to be happy, darling. You got that?” His lips pressed to my forehead, letting it linger. “Go get that life you’ve been dreaming of.”

Twenty-Three

I left New Orleans the next day, grabbing a bus ticket after throwing all of my belongings into my old duffel bag. It was time to move on.

But God, did it hurt.

I didn’t stop crying for weeks, fighting the urge to go right back to Louisiana and tell Bucky to take it back, to get him to beg me to stay with him.

But what kind of life would that leave me with? Working in the diner day after day? Never getting anywhere?

But you’d have James, a voice inside my head reminded me snarkily.

Then again, he most likely wasn’t even in New Orleans anymore, if what he said was true when he gave me the business card of his father’s mechanic shop. Was he really planning on going home to New York City?

A few months later, and I’d worked my way all through the southwest to Santa Fe, where I met Pietro.

My heart was pounding as I pressed in the familiar numbers, having memorized them from the business card now soft and faded from how often I held it in my hands like a lifeline. “Come on… Pick up… Pick up…”

“Barnes Tires and Motors, this is George,” a man said in a gruff voice when he finally picked up. “How can I help you?”

“H-Hi, is James there? James Barnes? Bucky?” I stammered out, hands trembling so bad that the old payphone was almost rattling.

There was a pause, and then muffled talking away from the phone.

And then I heard it being picked up. “This is Bucky,” he said.

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of my lungs. How had I gone so long without hearing his voice?

Breathing in sharply, I tried to figure out the words to say. But my throat was dry and it was like I’d suddenly forgotten the entire English language.

That was all that it took for Bucky to realize it was me. “Baby doll? Baby doll, is that you?” He asked quietly. “I…” He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “You don’t gotta say a thing, sweetheart… But just know that if you’re in trouble or you need help or… or anything at all, you better call me…” His voice wavered, as though he was fighting tears just like I was. “God, I miss you so much, baby doll. I love you.”

I love you, too.

I hung up before I could actually say the words. “God, I’m so fucking stupid,” I whispered as I leaned back against the wall of the gas station I’d found myself at, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

My dumb ass had decided to wander from the bus station, and I’d walked over a mile away. Unless I was staying in Santa Fe for a bit, I’d need to start making my way back.

“You okay?”

In my distress, I hadn’t even heard the rumbling of the motorcycle or noticed the handsome man making his way to me. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I said even as I wiped my nose with a pathetic sniffle.

He eyed me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my figure. “You hungry? I know a great little place nearby. My treat.”

And well, I was never one to turn down free food.

Even if that ‘little place’ ended up being a food truck.

“You know, when you said it was a little place, I didn’t picture it having wheels,” I said teasingly, licking salsa off of my lower lip. “Though, it is the best food I’ve ever gotten from a food truck before.”

“Oh, come on. This is the best food of all time!” He laughed, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I snorted, finishing off my flautas.

Pietro looked at me long and hard. “So, are you gonna tell me what the hell was going on to have a pretty girl like you all teary eyed?” He asked, his head tilting to the side.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Was this your plan all along?” I asked. Wiping my hands off on a napkin, I did everything I could to avoid his eyes. “Get me all fed and then question me?” But at the same time, the thought of being able to finally talk to someone about it was so appealing… After a long moment of hesitation, I finally gave in. “I fell in love with a man, and he let me go because he knew that I want a life he can’t give me,” I said. “And I was a bitch who didn’t even tell him I love him back when he said it to me.”

Pietro took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “Damn. You really are a stone cold bitch, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” I indignantly threw a chunk of tomato at him, glaring. “I just opened up my heart, you dickwad.”

“Dickwad?!” He said, blinking at me in shock. “No one’s ever called me a dickwad before.”

I raised a single eyebrow at him. “Maybe not to your face, but they definitely have.” He gave off the vibe of a fuckboy, of a really, really bad fuckboy.

“Well, since you’re running away from your feelings, how about you spend a week or two with me on the road?” He asked with a grin.

I couldn’t help but blink at him in shock. “What?” I let out a laugh, pulling one of my legs up to my chest. “Do you throw that line out to every girl you meet? Or am I just special?”

Pietro threw a chip at me, and I barely managed to dodge it. “No, I don’t. But… You remind me of me. Needing adventure. A life bigger than four walls and a fence.”

Instinctively, I wanted to snap back that sometimes, four walls and a fence could be an adventure, could be the biggest life there was, as Bucky’s face flashed across my mind.

But I couldn’t do that. Not when I wasn’t ready to face the truth myself.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he teased as his foot hooked around mine. “Just think of it. The open highway, a rhythm beneath your feet… Nights full of passion and days of adventure…” Pietro’s voice was deep and husky, as though he was trying to lure me in. “No strings… just warm summer rain soaking us to the bone before we find some cheap motel to huddle down in…”

Plastering on a smile, I stood up and brushed myself on. “Thanks, but… I’d rather be drinking champagne, and the quicker I get to LA, the sooner I will be.”

He let me go with a kiss on the cheek and his cell number pressed into my hand, with a promise to come and pick me up the second I rang.

And despite how sweet he was, how wild and funny and charismatic, there was only one man I wanted to call.

Twenty-Four

I sipped at my martini as I sat at the rooftop bar, absentmindedly watching the television that was mounted on the wall as people droned around me. I’d been in Los Angeles for a year, and I’d spent my time finding the best places to find a husband who could give me the life I dreamed of.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it took connections to build a career, and the best way to get a foot in the door when nepotism was so rampant was by marrying someone in the industry.

My silk dress was the most expensive thing I owned, something I’d saved up for months for, had skipped meals for. And fuck, was it worth it. I could feel the stares, the lingering gazes on the little bit of thigh that was exposed by the slit in the dress.

I’d already turned away several men, able to tell just from their expensive watches and cheap suits and shoes.

It was amazing how all the up and coming finance bros thought they fit in with the truly big dogs.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.”

I turned to see who was speaking, my heart skipping a beat when I realized who I was speaking to.

The world famous (or infamous) director, Tony Stark.

“Hello, handsome,” I said smoothly, my lashes fluttering innocently as I took a sip of my horrible drink.

I fucking hated martinis. Always had.

But ordering a martini was more sophisticated than ordering a frozen strawberry margarita.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked as he motioned to the empty bar stool right next to me, even as he was already sitting down. “Let me buy your next round.”

“I can’t think of anything better,” I said, feeling as though my dream life was already in reach.

Twenty-Eight

“Tony, where are you taking me?” I laughed as I let my boyfriend lead me to the private dock at our Malibu mansion.

Well, his mansion. I just happened to also live there.

It had been a whirlwind of a year since I had met Tony, and he’d bought me that second round. He’d taken me all over the globe, anywhere my heart desired.

But I made sure to avoid New York City, though he never understood why. I would never tell him.

Not when I was so close to my dream. I could practically taste it.

“Come on, come on. I have a surprise for you,” he said, keeping his hands over my eyes. He was sure to keep me from tripping and busting my ass, thank god.

The ocean waves were so comforting as they hit the shore, a sound I’d gotten used to over the past year.

He finally brought me to a stop, quietly telling me to keep my eyes closed. “Okay,” he said finally. “Open them.”

My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the bright light of the California sun. But I was more shocked by the sight of Tony on one knee in front of me, holding out a box with a sparkling diamond ring in it. “Tony?”

The ring was the size of a fucking meteor. It was easily the biggest ring I’d ever seen.

“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he said quietly, his dark eyes shining. But his voice was steady. “Someone who understands me, who doesn’t expect me to change into someone I’m not. You accept me as I am, and that’s why I want to give you the world.” He couldn’t help but grin as he nodded to the right. “Starting with that yacht you’ve always dreamed of.”

I hadn’t even noticed that there were two yachts at his private docks instead of just the one. The new one had SS Princess emblazoned on the side, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh… Tony…”

“So, what do you say?” He asked, bringing my attention back to him. “Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.”

Thirty-Two

Swallowing nervously, I looked down at the business card in my hand for the millionth time, the stock paper soft from how often I’d looked at it in the past ten years.

Hell, just how often I’d looked at it in the past six should’ve made it fall apart by now. Not that I didn’t have it memorized.

I’d finally ended my marriage after being miserable for so long. I’d gotten my yacht, my fancy houses, my career, all the jewelry that I could dream of, and none of it made me happy. Tony and I… never grew. And I never dreamed. Every day was the same, and every day was torture as I realized that I didn’t have the one thing that actually mattered.

The garage in front of me was busy, music blasting and the sound of men shouting to each other as they worked.

Suddenly I felt absolutely ridiculous wearing a Chanel dress and Gucci heels, an Hermés bag on my arm.

BARNES TIRES AND MOTORS was lit up along the top of the shop in bright red letters, though the lights in the ‘r’ of ‘motors’ were out.

I felt like a fool. I had wanted the life I had so desperately that I gave up everything for it. I got the movie star life, my name on billboards and my face on magazines.

But it wasn’t ever enough.

My heels clicked against the blacktop as I slowly made my way towards the front area of the shop, bells clinging above my head to let them know someone was there.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man asked as he came around the corner.

He looked so much like Bucky, it punched the air straight from my lungs.

“H-Hi. I’m looking for James Barnes. Is he here?” I asked after a long moment of hesitation. There was no way that the man was Bucky, but I didn’t doubt he was related.

The man raised his brows, wiping his hands on a rag. “My son’s in the shop. I’ll take you to him.” His full head of hair was white, his thick facial hair matching. Even with all the wrinkles on his face, he was a handsome man. Holding open the door for me, he led me into the loud shop, some eighties rock song blasting over the speakers.

I couldn’t help but smile as ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane’ by Scorpions came on. It was one of Bucky’s favorites back when we worked in the diner together.

“BUCK! YOU GOT A VISITOR!” The man shouted, causing several people to look our way.

My cheeks felt hot as I avoided their gaze, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to be a famous movie star anymore, a celebrity that had to beg for scraps of privacy.

My mind went numb, my heart stopping inside my chest as he stepped around a gray Ford Escape another man was working on.

He was even more handsome than he was the last time I saw him.

“Can I help y—” He broke off, his blue eyes going wide when he realized that it was me. “Hi.”

All of a sudden, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my head. All of the eloquent words I’d strung together were gone. And I just proceeded to word vomit.

“Did you know that, uh, when you marry someone you’re not in love with, you won’t… you won’t grow into it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Um… I married a man who could give me a life I thought I always wanted, and he just… sucked.” Eyes stinging, I fought back against tears. “And I thought that all I ever wanted was the life I have now, was the life movie stars and the Kardashians lived. But… But I hate it. I hated every second I was away from you.” I let out a weak laugh, unable to stop the tears. “I wanted to turn around the second I got on the bus in New Orleans, but my stupid stubborn ass didn’t. I should have. I should’ve gotten off and just run right back to you because I… I love you, James. I always have.”

The garage had gone almost deadly quiet, and my heart sank when I realized Bucky looked almost frozen in shock.

“I know that I shouldn’t have showed up like this,” I scrambled to say. “But I… I’ve been trying to get my divorce finalized for two years and I finally did, and I kept telling myself that once it was done, I’d never hold myself back from what I really want ever again. From who I want. If… If you want me.” My face felt like it was on fire, my hands shaking. I shook my head as I took a step backwards. “What am I thinking? There’s no way you’re not married. I… I’m so so—”

Before I could finish the word ‘sorry,’ Bucky had closed the distance between us, his hands cradling my face so gently. He held me like I was made of fine crystal as he kissed me. He kissed me like his life depended on it, like I was the one source of oxygen.

And I kissed him back just as fiercely. “I love you. I love you so much,” I breathed out in between kisses, unwilling to let him go as my Hermés bag fell into the dust and oil on the concrete below.

Bucky smiled into the kiss, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep me pressed to his chest. “I love you so much, darlin.’ God, I’ve missed you…” His nose nudged against mine as we finally broke for air, both of us breathing heavily.

My knees felt like Jell-O as I held onto him. His grip was the only reason I hadn’t fallen to the ground already.

“I’m sorry I was a dumb twenty-two year old,” I said, snorting as he stole another kiss.

“No… Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, his fingers massaging my scalp as our foreheads pressed together. It was like he was scared to stop touching me, like I would disappear at any second. “You were young… You had to go out and make your own mistakes… I’ve just been waiting for the day you were ready.”

All the years apart melted away and all that remained was the two of us, two souls so intertwined that there was no way to truly separate us.

Our lips were half molded together as I said, “I’m never leaving you again. I promise I swear on everything…”

My heart almost stopped inside my chest as I heard someone clearing their throat, looking to see Bucky’s father staring at us with his arms crossed over his chest. “M-Mr. Barnes, sir…”

He gave a crooked smile that was so reminiscent of Bucky that I couldn’t help but grin back. “The Mrs. will wanna know if you’re staying for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked up at Bucky, toying with a strand of his hair. “That sounds perfect.”

Later that night, Bucky and I laid in his bed, a mess of bare limbs as his fingers ran up and down my back soothingly. “What do you want from this life, baby girl?” He asked absentmindedly.

Humming, I traced shapes on his bare chest, sometimes pressing a kiss to where his prosthetic met his shoulder, on the tender scar tissue. “You.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, despite the already mischievous look on his face. “Really? Not even the stars and the moon?” He asked teasingly.

I knew he’d give it to me anyway, give me all that he could. But I was sure now that the only thing I wanted from this life was his love. “Not even the stars and the moon.”

[deexchanel]

Overprotective

Word Count: 1,629

Pairing: Avengers x BlackFem!Reader

Warning: Swearing, Fighting, Angst, and Fluff maybe? I can’t really describe it.

Summary: Y/N is the adopted daughter of Howard and Maria Stark. She goes to school with all her siblings and today seems different than other days.

A/N: This is basically their outfits, it gives private schools vibes. Everyone last name will be their last name and Stark. Thank you for reading.😘

Y/N was the last to be adopted by the Starks. The couple fell in love when they saw her at the adoption center. They were the best parents to Y/N, giving her unconditional love. “Mom? I can’t find my skirt!” Natasha yelled from upstairs, throwing random skirts behind her. Y/N walked out of the bathroom, brushing her hair. "It's downstairs Nat, Mom steamed it this morning."

"Thanks, sis." Natasha rushed out of the room, downstairs. Y/N and Natasha shared a room while Steve and Bucky shared a room. Thor and Loki shared a room across the hall from Tony and Clint's room. "Tony do you have my mousse? My hair is frizzy." Y/N knocked against his door. Those two were always the last ones to get dressed which sometimes made everyone late. "It's actually mine, you used all of yours last week Y/N. I know your hair is that damn frizzy all the time." Tony opened the door holding the can.

"Mind your business bro."Y/N flipped him off taking the can out of his hand.

"Y/N? Tony? Come on. You guys are going to be late!" Maria yelled up the stairs. Everyone else was around the table eating except them. 5 minutes later Y/N and Tony were at the table with the rest of the family. They had about 15 minutes before it was time to go.

Maria placed waffles and cheese eggs on their plates when they sat down. Natasha played on her phone, "Y/N got dress coded again Mom." Y/N glared at Natasha for bringing that up. Thor sloppily ate on his waffles getting syrup on his face.

"Y/N did you change your clothes when we got to school yesterday? This is the third time this week that you've got dressed coded."

Maria sat down her fork. "Thor cleans your mouth and he's right Y/N. This is the third time. Do I need to clean out your closet or something? I don't want this to happen again."

"No mom, they always say something to me for no reason. I can't help it if I'm thick." Y/N rolled her eyes, smoothing out her skirt. "Plus it's their fault for making this little skirt a part of the uniform."

"Clint pass me some more orange juice?" Loki asked not taking his eyes off his book. "Okay." Clint slid it towards him.

"Do we need to come up to the school?" Howard sat down his newspaper. His children instantly spoke up in protest. "No!"

It was bad enough that people at their school knew who their parents were. Them coming there was going to make it worse than it was. The kids just wanted a normal school year. "It's fine Dad. Steve will talk to them." Bucky reassured getting up from the table so he could place his plate in the sink.

Steve wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Yeah, I will. There wouldn't be no need for you guys to make an appearance at the school."

"Alright then. I love each and every one of you guys. Have a good day at school and drive safe." Howard checked his watch then stood up. He was always the first one to leave the house for work. That was an indication that it was time for everyone to leave.

Y/N and everyone else got up from the table grabbing their bookbags that were beside the door. "Steve I'm riding with you." Y/N smiled knowing that he was going to give her the aux.

"Alright. Let's go." Steve held the front door open for her. Y/N did a happy skip towards his car. Loki, Clint, Natasha, Steve, Bucky, and Tony were all seniors so their early graduation present was a car. They each had different after-school activities sometimes is why they rode in separate vehicles and since Y/N was only a junior she had to catch rides with either one of them.

Y/N laughed at Steve belt out the lyrics to Work by Rihanna and Drake. "I haffi work, work, work, work, work, work."

"Sing it, Steve!!"

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

The day progressed by and now it was a couple minutes before lunch period. Y/N wrote down the last little bit of notes then closed her tablet. The teacher was done teaching so now the students could talk amongst themselves. In this class block, she didn't have any friends. The boys were too full of themselves and the girls were straight-up bitches.

"Y/N right?" Jenn sat down on the desk in front of her. Y/N knew it was going to be some foolishness coming out of her mouth.

"Yeah."

"So everyone here wants to know how did you get adopted by the Starks?" Jenn leaned forward on the desk and Y/N sat back because she was starting to be in her personal space.

"How do you know about that?"

"Word around here travel fast. So what? They needed a maid or they just felt bad? There has to be a reason why they adopted you because you are a little too dark for them just to want to adopt you."

Y/N tilts her head a bit. 'I know this bitch did not.' She thought to herself.

"Jenn I'm going to let you think about that dumb ass shit you just said."

Jenn let out a fake laugh. "What I said wasn't dumb. Everyone wants to know."

"Well everyone can kiss my ass. I don't owe anyone an explanation. You know what? girl get out of my damn face before I get disrespectful on your ass." Y/N huffed throwing her hair over her shoulder. The bell ring and Y/N instantly got up leaving the room with her packed bookbag.

Relief flooded through her veins seeing her siblings sitting at their usual table. At this point, Y/N was ready to go home. "Hey, guys." They greeted except Clint who grunted because his mouth was filled with food.

"How's your day so far?" Loki looked at Y/N while he bit into his sandwich. Y/N stirred her mac and cheese that was in a plastic container.

"It's been okay. Not all that."

“Can I have some of your burgers?” Steve asked Tony who nodded his head, tearing off a piece of his burger placing it on his napkin. The siblings talk amongst themselves, enjoying the little time they had together.

A football player, Jaxon slid his plate which held his leftovers from lunch on the table in front of Y/N. “You’re going to need it when they dump your ass on the street. Maid girl.” Normally Y/N would be strong but this one really hurt.

Thor stood up with a scowl on his face. “The fuck you just say?” Bucky stood up, shoving the football player a bit.

“What the hell make you think you can speak to my sister like that?!”

Steve, Clint, Loki, and Tony stood up with anger written on their faces. More football players walked over for Jaxon’s backup. Both Y/N and Natasha sat there with disbelief on their faces.

“ We know you use your ‘sister’ as a maid. You don’t have to lie. That’s what her people are for.” Jaxon laughed crossing his arms. Steve stepped forward.

“You don’t know what you’re talking Jaxon so I’ll advise you to shut up.”

“Watch how you talk about my sister pretty boy.” Tony snarled clenching his fist.

“Or What Stark? You’re going to get your rich daddy to sue me? Just tell-” Loki pulled his fist back punching the shit out of Jaxon. It turned into a big brawl between the guys. Y/N couldn’t do anything but watch with tears clouding her eyes.

Words hurt and she couldn’t help but think that the only reason why her parents adopted her was that they felt bad. “Let’s get you out of here,” Natasha whispered placing her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. The two ended up in the office so Y/N could tell her side of the story.

20 minutes later Clint walked into the office with a bandaid over his eyebrow. “Hey Y/N, Natasha. Are you guys okay? Have either of you got in contact with mom and dad?”

Natasha kissed his cheek, “We’re okay and No I haven’t.”

“I haven’t either.” Y/N fumbled with her fingers. “Are you and the boys okay? I didn’t mean for this to happen. I had everything under control.”

“Sure you did Y/N but we’re fine. What he said was wrong. I wasn’t going to let him continue to do it.” Clint furrowed his eyebrows.

The principal cut their conversation short bringing them into the office. The boys had 2 days of detention while Jaxon and his crew had a week's suspension. Y/N walked out of the office seeing Loki coming towards it. She ran towards him giving Loki a big hug.

“You okay little sis?”

“I’m okay Loki. You didn’t have to do that for me. I could’ve handled it.”

He gave her a hug, “Y/N I know you handle everything else but he was out of pocket and I solved the problem.”

“I understand but I can’t help to think.” Y/N bit her lips to keep the tears from falling. “Did mom and dad only adopt me because... because they felt bad?”

Loki took his sister into his arms, as she starts to cry. “Y/N don’t let them get inside your mind. It’s nonsense they're speaking of. Mom and Dad chose you because one look at little Y/N brightened up their life. You’re the best daughter they could ever ask for. They wouldn’t replace you for anything and I wouldn’t let them. I’m very overprotective of you Y/N. You aren’t going anywhere.”

Y/N closed her eyes hugging Loki tighter, she was terrified to let him go. He sighs kissing her head.

---------

I'm posting this and a Tony one shot in like 2 seconds, sooo enjoy these for the weekend 😁

stay slutty my friends.

[sniper-spider]

Do you Even Love me Anymore? ~Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

a/n: basically Bucky’s been pushing you away and you dont understand it and you blame yourself. also btw this is tfatws Bucky and Dr. Raynor is Bucky’s therapist in case yall didnt know that. also the reader was with Bucky in the ‘40’s and was frozen over time like Steve.

tw: reader has never had anyone he trusted or who loved him, bad parents (not mentioned as abusive but you could imagine them that way)

Bucky was everything to you. He had been ever since you became close in elementary school. You never had anyone other than him. Your parents never cared about you and neither did anyone else. You thought it wasn’t possible for you to be loved until Bucky.

But recently Bucky had been pushing you away. He’d been different after everything that happened with HYDRA and you still loved him, but he’d been progressively pushing you away more and more. You didn’t even seem like you were dating anymore. Hell, you didn’t even seem like friends anymore. You didn’t wanna bother him, so you never tried to talk to him. You’d even stopped calling him the nickname you’d given him and reverted to calling him James since it just didn’t feel right anymore.

One day, Bucky told you that Dr. Raynor wanted you to come in with him to his therapy session. You agreed, and now you sat on a grey couch, Bucky on one side, you on the other. You looked like 2nd graders who got in a fight and had to talk to the principal at the same time.

“All right,” Dr. Raynor said, getting a notepad. “You’re (Y/n), then.”

You nodded, muttering a simple, “yeah”.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Dr. Raynor said, which inspired confusion in you, which showed on your face. “What, you thought your own boyfriend wasn’t gonna talk about you?”

You waited a moment to find the right words.

“I guess not,” you sad, in a voice dry of emotion. “It’s not like our relationship has been going well.”

“And that’s exactly why you’re here,” Dr. Raynor said. “I have some questions for both of you to answer one-on-one and then an exercise I’d like you to do.”

You and Bucky muttered out a small, “kay”.

First, Bucky answered questions from Dr. Raynor privately, and then it was your turn.

“All right,” Dr. Raynor told you once Bucky was out of the room. “First, you should know that I won’t tell James your answers to these questions.”

You nodded.

“Okay, so…” Dr. Raynor said, flipping a page in her notepad and looking at a piece of paper. “On a scale from one to ten, one being awful, and ten being perfect, how would you describe your relationship with James?”

You thought for a moment. Thought about how much he acted like he didn’t even like you. How he ignored you sometimes and even avoided you. You hated the answer to her question, but you thought it best to tell her the truth. Sadness brewed in you as you prepared to tell her.

“3.”

“All right,” Dr. Raynor said, scribbling it down on her pad quickly. “So, next; what does James do that could lead to your relationship being rated a 3 in your mind?”

You didn’t need to think too hard for this one.

“Well,” you started. “He doesn’t really try to be around me. He doesn’t talk to me unless I talk to him. Even then, he doesn’t always talk back. He avoids me sometimes and I don’t think he trusts me anymore.”

You paused and Dr. Raynor’s pen danced along the paper.

“I guess, you know, in the ‘40’s, things were so good with us. We were probably at a 9 or 10. And, yeah, I know we’ve both changed, especially James and he’s been through a lot. I don’t expect things to be the same. I just… I just wish it could be better. I love him and I feel like I’m losing him. He’s all I have.”

Dr. Raynor recorded your main points on her pad while nodding.

“Okay,” Dr. Raynor said. “Now, what are some things you do that could cause it to be a 3?”

You thought for a moment. It took a few moments to conjure an answer.

“Well, when this first really started, I would try to do things about it. I would try extra hard to communicate with James. I would really try to make things better, but it didn’t work. Eventually I gave up…”

Dr. Raynor nodded, scribbling on her notepad.

“I guess, not trying to help is contributing.”

Dr. Raynor finished up her notes.

“All right,” she said. “From what I’ve heard, I think you would benefit from talking to James about this. I have a great exercise for this that I’ll have you do.”

You nodded, growing anxious for what would happen in the conversation. Would Bucky tell you he didn’t love you anymore? You didn’t know if you could handle hearing that.

Before you knew it, Bucky was sitting on the opposite end of the grey couch. Dr. Raynor arranged 2 chairs across from each other in front of you and told you each to sit in one. One of your legs was in between Bucky’s and the other was on the side of his right leg.

“Is this really necessary?” Bucky asked, sounding annoyed.

“Yes,” Dr. Raynor confirmed. “Now, this is called the soul-gazing exercise. Look into each other’s eyes.”

You both obeyed. You got even more anxious.

“All right. Good,” Dr. Raynor said. “(Y/n), explain to James what you told me.”

You gulped.

“Uhm…”

You were so nervous of talking to your own boyfriend. It likely was due to how many times he simply dismissed your words. You swallowed your fear and spoke.

“I… Look, I know things have changed a lot since the ‘40’s and I know things will never be the way they were then,” you explained. “But, you just keep pushing me away. It’s constant. In the ‘40’s, we were closer than anyone I ever knew were, but now, you won’t even talk to me. I know you’re different, and so am I but I love you anyway and I miss you. So much.”

You paused for a moment.

“James… do you… do you even love me anymore?”

Bucky’s mouth open for a moment, your words leaving him speechless. After a few moments, he pressed his lips together and swallowed, looking down.

“Eyes,” Dr. Raynor reminded.

Bucky complied, looking back into your eyes, pain evident in his.

“That’s what you think?” Bucky asked in a hurt tone. “You… you think I don’t love you anymore?”

“It’s not like you make it clear if you do still love me,” you spoke dryly.

“(Y/n)…” Bucky started.

He didn’t know what to say. He kicked himself for making you think that he didn’t love you. For hurting you. Something he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do to you.

“I… Of course I still love you, (Y/n),” Bucky spoke sadly. “I-Im sorry.”

You waited for Bucky to explain.

“Look… uhm… I just… After what happened… I just don’t know how to interact with someone who doesn’t take joy in my pain. I’m not used to trusting people anymore. Or having anyone who cares about me. Now, I have… issues and I-I guess I’m… scared of you seeing that. And I… I guess I feel like…”

Bucky trailed off, pausing for a moment.

“I feel like I don’t deserve you. Especially with all that I’ve done now…”

“Bucky,” you said for the first time in a while, getting up and standing in front of Bucky, your hand touching his cheek. “What happened isn’t your fault. It wasn’t you. You didn’t do it. You’re the best person I’ve ever met, Bucky.”

“I hurt you…” Bucky said, his voice submerged in pain. “I made you think that I didn’t love you. How can I be the best person you’ve ever met if I did that to you?”

“You had good reasons to do that, okay?” You told him. “You weren’t trying to hurt me and I was just being paranoid.”

“I’m not good enough for you, (Y/n),” Bucky spoke dryly.

“That’s not true,” you told him. “You’re perfect in every way, Bucky. I know you’ve changed. I know you think you did those things, but you didn’t. You’re not less of a person than I am.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said sadly.

“Hey,” you said. “It’s okay. Just… don’t worry about me knowing about your issues, okay? I’m completely okay with all of it. I love you no matter what. I mean it.”

You brought your arms around Bucky, who was still in his chair, and pulled his head into your chest. Bucky hesitantly returned the embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“I won’t do it anymore,” Bucky assured you. “I’ll try to talk to you about it…”

“That’s good, Bucky,” you said, pulling away and looking him in the eyes. “I love you more than anything.”

“I love you, too.”

Bucky stood and leaned in, allowing you to share your first kiss in months.

el end.

[lastxviolet]

Madripoor is for Lovers - Ch. 1

Summary: Y/N is a SWORD agent recruited to help Sam and Bucky track down Karli and the super-soldiers. When Helmut Zemo joins the team, he takes a special interest in her. The friendly union is wrought for disaster, but then things take a turn for the worst when Y/N is taken as collateral. Will Zemo keep her forever? Does she even want to escape? And what happened in Madripoor that made the whole thing so complicated?

Warnings: 18+ / eventual smut / kidnapping

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32878015/chapters/81589774

“Don’t scream,” a voice whispered in your ear, low and slow. “I do not wish to harm you.”

His hand wrapped around your mouth and the other snaked around your waist. The cool metal of a gun pressed into your ribs. He pulled you tight and fast against his body with ease.

You knew who it was, of course. It was the only person in the room not fighting in the pit of madness. The duel between a super soldier, the new Captain America, and the Dora Milaje hadn't been tempting. But it’d been him to grab your arm to pull you away from the fighting when Sam had yelled for help and now you knew why.

“Don’t do this,” you hissed against his hand.

Zemo pulled you backward, inch by agonizing inch.

You clicked your heels against the floor hoping to knock something over along the way. Anything to get Sam and Bucky’s attention. No one even glanced your way.

“None of that, Liebling,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. His grip on your waist tightened as you passed through the bathroom threshold. What was worse, you wondered. Seeing your team; your friends disappear behind the closed double doors. Or the goosebumps from Zemo’s breath hot on your neck.

With his gun aimed at you, he knelt near the bathtub and pushed it aside to reveal an escape hatch in the floor. You watched him unlatch it and then smirk, surprised that his plan was going so well. That smirk made your blood boil.

“I’m more hassle than I’m worth,” you warned, casting a hesitant glance down the manhole.

He motioned for you to jump down first. “But you are excellent collateral.”

The noise of battle continued beyond the doors, much to your disappointment. They weren’t going to notice in time. Sam and Bucky had looked out for you but their alliance superseded any with you. Sam had only known you for a few months, and Bucky even less. You shot a prayer into the ether that they'd think of you if only this one time.

“You overestimate my importance to them,” you hissed.

Zemo looked up with dark and serious eyes. Usually, when aimed at you, they were less so. You wouldn't have considered him a friend, by any means. But in the last few weeks, he'd become a quiet, witty companion, who infuriated you less than most. Especially when Sam and Bucky spent most of the mission bickering about the plans you had made.

“Perhaps you underestimate yourself,” he cooed, shaking his head.

Sewage stink hit your senses immediately. This would not be pleasant. The drop was too short to give you the time to make a run for it. A second after your feet hit the ground, Zemo returned his gun to your head, with a smile.

“This way.”

Fighting was pointless, that much you knew. You hadn’t been recruited by Sam for your fighting abilities, as Zemo hadn’t been recruited for his. You were handy with a gun but tracking and strategy were your specialties. They’d taken you far in the military, and then as an anomaly investigator and agent with SWORD. And now, they’d brought you here, kidnapped, with a gun to your head in the back of Zemo’s car.

The driver was off towards the airstrip without any further commotion. You watched the road behind you, hopeful to see Sam or Bucky run up on the car. You could've even settled for a Dora Milaje with murder in their eyes and Zemo’s name on their tongue but it was empty.

Once on the plane, you sat in the furthest seat towards the back. Angry, hurt, and nervous, because despite all the warning bells, you’d trusted him. There was clear hatred between your teammates and Zemo but it was different between the two of you. You had no past or grudges against one another. It was silly now to think that that made you believe that there was an understanding.

“I hope you don’t think me indecent,” he murmured, gesturing to an opaque scarf in his hands. He avoided your gaze before wrapping it around your face. “But it would be unwise for me to trust you with my location. You are too intelligent for your own good.”

“Is it normal for wardens to flatter their prisoners,” you hissed, hoping to land a blow.

You heard him sit in the seat across from you and felt his foot brush yours as he crossed his legs.

“Prisoner,” he chuckled. “You are my guest Y/N and I hope that in time, you will find that I can be an excellent host.”

“In time,” you repeated, weighing the consequences of not putting up a fight when you could. How long did he plan to keep you?

He was quiet then, and so were you. The choice of words lingering between you. It wasn't until after takeoff that he spoke again. A glimpse of his face would've given you the clues you desired but the tone of his words was enough. His exhaustion from relentless thought weighed his voice to a deep baritone. Sluggish and soft.

“I have no intention of living the rest of my days in a cell,” he whispered finally.

You couldn't feel bad for him, especially when his freedom came at the cost of your own. It was clear then that confidence and swagger were a disguise, for survival. You’d seen glimmers of the real pain lurking beneath the smirks and fur coat but you hadn’t thought that he’d let it win. It wasn't a disappointment but somewhat a relief to go toe to toe with the real man.

“You can’t run forever,” you reminded him in a soft tone, trying to coax the shadow of humanity left in him out further.

“Ah,” he sighed. “It feels nice to know that you can be wrong, Y/N. For a moment, I doubted that you were human.”

The words lit an angry fire inside you. You couldn’t see him but almost heard the cavalier shrug he threw in for effect. The fabric over your eyes covered the tops of your cheeks hiding the angry flush. You hated him for making this complicated. You hated yourself even more, for not screaming when you had the chance.

Except for the occasional page turn, the rest of the ride was silent, which was unusual for the two of you. There’d been an instant dialogue since the very first time you’d met a few weeks ago. Since then, quiet moments had been rare.

________

The Baron’s private plane had landed an hour ago, but no one was on the tarmac yet. It’d taken you, Sam, and Bucky that long to come to terms with the uniforms chosen for the night.

“You know you don’t have to Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and glared at Sam through the small airplane mirror.

“I’m fine,” you reassured him before going back to gawking at the dress. Tight but not too short, seeing as you were posing as a baroness tonight in the mission to Madripoor. Sheer black fabric slung over one shoulder, sewn onto a bustier underneath. Simple. Elegant. You’d never worn anything like it.

Sam shook his head, mumbling something about this being a bad idea.

“It’s better than the Air Force uniform,” you smiled, knowing full well that that’d get at least a chuckle out of him. It did, earning the both of you a glare from Bucky who was the worst off tonight.

“No time like the present,” Zemo called from the front of the plane. The men left you, bickering about whose outfit was worse. You tried to follow but the only piece of jewelry, a silver charm necklace, put up a fight.

“Allow me?”

Zemo’s voice made you jump. He leaned against the door, with a hand outstretched towards you. Now that half the audience to entertain was gone, he looked more forlorn; less self-assured.

You nodded, moving your hair out of the way before handing the necklace to him. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He did that a lot you had realized. After the fireworks at the beginning of the ride, he’d turned his attention to you. Smile bright, but the eye’s dead. One would think small talk was his forte but you knew better. It is an easy distraction; a way to put your opposition at ease. Regardless, you couldn't blame him for seeking to charm the only one on the flight that did not hate him.

“I don’t think that we met,” he’d stated, settling into the seat across from you. “Last time.”

“Don’t talk to her,” Bucky hissed. You knew he was trying to help but you waved him off, giving him a look that said ‘someone has to talk to him.’

“No, I’m new,” you’d told him, squinting at the artificial grin that didn’t leave his face. You guessed that conversation was difficult to come by in prison. It was a pity that he was an evil mastermind. His ability to fake friendliness rivaled the most talented US agents.

“How new?”

“A few weeks before you.”

His eyes twinkled at your commonality. They bore into yours, trying to decipher what you know of what he'd done. This look was how you knew the stories of his genius, were true. They scanned and shifted, guessing that you knew it all with one look. He was right, of course, and you thought that would be the end of it. Then, he surprised you. He asked about your family, schooling, job, passions, and interests. He spoke about the books he’d had in prison, and you teased him for even reading The Prince.

He smiled wider and wider as you spoke until Sam shot you a glare and you gave the Baron some excuse about sleep. But even when you closed your eyes, and curled up into the seat, you’d felt his eyes remain on your face.

Warm hands against your neck brought you out of the trance and back to the man who you should hate.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, watching his somber expression in the reflection.

“The sigil is — was, my family’s,” he stated, coming around to face you and fiddle with the charm. “You are playing the part of a baroness, after all. We need to make it believable.”

His lips curled into a soft smile at the royal word. A chill ran down your spine. Even though your conversation had been short, you hadn’t meant to enjoy it so much. Conversation was like pulling teeth with most of the people you knew, especially Sam and Bucky. And even when it came, it didn’t flow like this.

“There are worse roles,” you mused, shooting him a soft smile in return. “I could have to play the part of the mind-controlled assassin, or worse, the evil baron.”

He smirked. “Strenuous, yes. I have found that there is nothing more difficult to be, than yourself.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You find it easy, to be yourself?”

“No, I don’t think that you are what you want us to believe.”

The words seemed to catch him off guard and you wondered the last person to show him any kindness was. Not that your words were kind.

Sam yelled some threat from the cabin about Zemo keeping his hands off of you, and you knew that your time was up. You ignored the pang of disappointment and looked up at the Baron's stone eyes.

“I am afraid that I will prove you wrong Y/N.”

You nodded and followed him out into the cold evening.

Low town was the target and as the four of you walked, the air was tense.

You nudged Bucky. “You ok?”

“Never better,” he sighed through gritted teeth.

A car appeared on the fluorescent bridge you were crossing as Zemo took his position next to you. Bucky stood on the other side of him, silent since you’d all marched out of the plane. You couldn't tell if it was memory that hardened his eyes or tonight’s assignment.

“You’re Bucky Barnes, born 1917,” you reminded the sullen soldier. “No more, no less.”

Zemo’s eyes squinted at your words, no doubt in disagreement but you avoided his gaze.

Bucky nodded and gave you a half-smile. It was as much as he could muster, especially when he had to become something he was trying so hard to forget. People have a way of finding their way back to themselves in time and you wondered how long he had left to go. The man who fought in WW2 was different from the man who fought against the Avengers. Both versions of him were different still from the man who'd turned silent in recent years.

“No matter what happens, we have to stay in character,” Zemo instructed as a car appeared on the bridge. “Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”

You prepared yourself for the night ahead where you would look at the Baron with lust. It would feel strange to see him as something other than interesting and distrustful. Attraction to him was not far-fetched. He had a strong face and a sultry accent, but you stood on opposite sides of the moral spectrum in the end. Unfortunately, your realism in love hadn’t left you very open to romantic connections. From the little experience you had, it was clear that couples didn’t work if they didn't have a common goal. Yours was not the destruction of your friends and his was not to make the world a better place.

An arm snaked around your waist, cutting off the train of thought. You jumped and looked wide-eyed at Zemo.

“We are newlyweds, yes?”

His words sounded more like a question but a smile played on his lips. You nodded, unfamiliar with the feel of a confident man at your side.

“Right,” you confirmed, being the first one to break eye contact.

The car doors opened and you knew the driver was the first person to judge the performance. You let Zemo pull you towards the car and then hesitated as he walked to the passenger side. You glanced to the middle seat between Bucky and Sam in the back. Sensing your hesitation, Zemo pulled you close.

“Your performance has begun, Baroness Zemo.”

You smiled like he’d whispered a sweet nothing in your ear and drew close to return the favor.

“I’d keep my last name,” you breathed, earning a soft chuckle.

Despite the nerves, you let him pull you into his lap and tried your best to look lovesick. It wasn’t as difficult as you thought as his large hands held your waist, and one of your legs. He looked ahead, with a smug smile and ran small circles on your bare leg. The rush of goosebumps and the hitch of your breath gave you away within seconds. His smug smile turned devious in the reflection on the window.

“Das hast wunderschöne Augen.”

He whispered into the side of your head. You didn’t speak German, and even if you did, you doubted you'd want to hear something mundane or rude. Yet you could feel the hammering of your heart in each fingertip as he spoke in his native language.

A performance you reminded yourself. Two could play at whatever he was doing. You turned to glare at him before bringing a hand up to caress his cheek. The light scruff tickled your knuckles and you wondered what he’d look like with a beard. His brand of handsome wasn't rugged, even when he'd escaped the prison, he looked neat and clean. You rested your head against his shoulder and continued stroking his rounded cheeks. Being a few inches away from his face gave you a chance to study his features. It’d be good practice if you ever had to pick him out of a fleeing crowd, or a Madripoor police lineup.

Other powerful engines surrounded the car. Motorcycles with nosy drivers appeared in each window. He gripped your thigh harder, warning that the stakes were high, even here and it had to look real. A heat manifested between your legs, followed by a throbbing that you hoped he wouldn’t notice. It didn’t feel so much like an act anymore and in truth when ran your fingers through his hair, you did it out of desire. He sucked in a breath and gripped your waist like iron. The stern man didn't seem so impenetrable anymore, as your lips brushed his ear, following a sloppy pattern along his jaw. You ran your fingers through his hair roughly again and felt a slight gasp leave him. His eyes left the windows and found yours. Serious and challenging. His hand moved up towards the hem of your dress. The fabric put up less of a fight than you as he gripped your bare ass. He felt the heat then, releasing a noise from the back of his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed and your kissing became frantic. Your lips buzzed from the pressure and his five o’clock shadow. His lips parted in anticipation but before you could make it, the car stopped.

Zemo released you immediately, nodding an apology to the driver. Pity, you thought, it felt like you were finally making him a little nervous.

Sam and Bucky averted their eyes as the group walked through the streets, trying to look normal. Again, Zemo slung an arm around your waist. You took this as your cue to drape yourself on his shoulder. He stared ahead like this was a death march and that a guillotine stood on the other side of the door with his name on it. He’d been here before, you remembered. The memories couldn’t have been pleasant judging by the way his mouth pressed into a tense line. Empathy came over you and you reached out to slip a hand under his coat to rest on his chest.

This broke the trance and he stared at you for a moment before a smug smile crept across his stone-cold expression. It would've annoyed you but not a second later, he reached up to hold your fingers against him. He pressed you into his sweater, rubbing each finger in an anxious pattern, the only sign of nerves at all. Even the heartbeat beneath his sweater was still steady and calm.

Zemo led you all through a packed crowd to a dim bar. The agent part of you wanted to stray from your role and look around to assess the situation. But your mind went blank as his hand dropped to your hip and guided you up against the bar. You faced a mirrored wall holding more extravagant bottles than you’d ever seen in your life.

Through the reflection, you watched Zemo claim ownership of his Baroness. Each of his hands gripped the railing on either side of you, pressing his chest into your exposed back. His large stature towered over you, but your eyes couldn't tear away from his hands. Their grip around the rounded corners was mesmerizing. In a flash, your brain conjured the image of him holding your legs apart with the same strength. You let out a shaking breath. The fur from his coat tickled your back, and you couldn't focus on his words to Sam as his breath hit your neck.

Disgruntled with the lack of vantage point, you turned in his arms, bringing your face a few inches from his. Intent on taking in the room, you rested your chin on his shoulder. People had noticed your group right away and hadn't stopped looking. You kept eye contact with some, all while kissing the Baron's neck. Only then, did you feel his heart rate quicken.

Zemo spoke to the bartender behind you, but you didn’t hear them. Again, he tested your boundaries by caressing your thigh underneath your short dress.

Newlyweds, you reminded yourself. Very horny, newlyweds.

Mesmerized by the raunchy crowd behind you, and the soft caress of his hand, you gave in again. You peppered wet kisses of longing against his jaw as he spoke to a man who’d come up on the other side of him. He swallowed hard but somehow, you doubted it was out of fear of the man that Bucky had in a chokehold a few moments later.

That was the last moment you remembered feeling calm that night. The moments after put your mission and lives in jeopardy. When the violence and fleeing had played out you'd realized that his hands had never left you. The safety of his grasp was far more dangerous than Madripoor. The feeling of relief when he’d found your waist again at Sharon’s party, had you kicking yourself.

“A very believable performance, Agent Y/N” he purred. “Well done.”

You smiled and glanced down at the few inches between the two of you. Drinking was not the best option tonight but it was too late. Vodka was already coursing through your veins.

“I’d call it compelling,” you smirked. “Not believable.”

He cocked his head to the side, eyeing you with curiosity and something else. Something ferocious that made you wonder why he didn’t have an army of devotees or a cult following. It was that look that made you question your willpower, for the first time ever.

“Why’s that?”

Exactly the question you’d been hoping for. He’d had the upper hand all night but that was going to change.

“Who would believe that I would actually fall for you,” you teased, tossing back the last of your drink.

That would’ve been the end of it for a lesser man but Zemo smiled, showing all his teeth. He was always intrigued by a challenge.

“Tell me, Y/N, who would you fall for?”

Your mouth went dry and although a smirk was still plastered to your lips, nerves rushed back in.

“As if I have time,” you laughed.

He returned the smile. “Gun to your head, then.”

The alcohol in your system whispered different answers. Irresponsible answers. Bringing them to fruition would give you more than you bargained for but you fought against them.

“I like nice men,” you whispered, watching his reaction. “Who don’t use animals for fashion.”

He chuckled and then a dark look passed over his face before he closed the gap between you. A step backward and you found yourself against a wall with nowhere to go. Zemo brought a hand to your neck, caressing the exposed skin and the chain resting there.

“Who says I am not a nice man?”

Now it was your turn to chuckle. “Your body count, history, profession…reputation.”

He nodded. “Ah, you mistake ambition and purpose for — cruelty.”

“I never said you were cruel. I know you don’t crave suffering. I know there was a reason…for what you did.”

He cocked his head again and pursed his lips, looking at you like a puzzle; something not yet solved.

The techno beat dissolved into a slower, bass-heavy, R&B song. The hand on your neck made its way down to your waist once again, pulling you in. You complied without a fight, letting the Baron lead you through a slow dance.

“Even I can be gentle,” he said after a while. “For you — I would even consider being sweet.”

The words sent shockwaves through your body, igniting every inch. He was a master of manipulation and a conniving son of a bitch who wanted your colleagues — friends, dead. And yet, your mind and body betrayed you. You squeezed him a little tighter and pulled in a little closer.

“And what about the fur coat,” you whispered, playing with the fuzzy material against his neck.

He surprised you with his laughter. He threw his head back in a genuine laugh and leaned into your neck to stifle the giggles.

“I have been in a prison jumpsuit for the last eight years, forgive me for my outdated fashion,” he cooed. You could feel the smirk against your skin.

“Is it real,” you asked, holding up the stupid furry flap.

“Of course. I am a Baron,” he responded, pulling you closer, staring at your lips.

[mosswillow]

Jumping In (Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Warnings: 18+ adult content!!, Kidnapping, smut, Dark fic, vaginal fingering, noncon/dubcon, yandere.

Summary: You submit your application to the Avengers as a joke. You’re nowhere near qualified enough for the job. So why do they want you?

AN: A big thanks to @rayofdawnworld for commenting on “Your Room” that they wanted to know about the other Avengers. This one is (obviously) Steve and is happening chronologically before “Your Room.” You can read it by itself though!  I also have a story forming for Bucky in my mind so I’ll probably do him next. 

You’ve always been the type of person to jump into things without thinking. It’s gotten you into plenty of trouble throughout your life but you’ve always managed to get yourself out of it. It’s opened up opportunities for you and taken you all over the world. You put in the application for SHIELD almost as a joke, thinking there’s no way they would ever hire you, especially not to work with the Avengers.

The joke becomes serious when you get a call from Stark Tower offering you a job. You skim over the contract eagerly and sign it immediately, jumping on the opportunity to work your dream job.

After a whirlwind week you find yourself standing in the middle of a high tech training room surrounded by Avengers. Being around a group of people as powerful as the Avengers is intimidating to say the least. The contrast between you and them is stark and you feel your confidence slip trying to keep up with them. They all assure you that you’re doing great and they’re glad to have you with them. It feels like a little family and you get pulled in immediately. You find yourself gravitating to Steve, or maybe he gravitates towards you. He shows up everywhere you go, at the water fountain filling up his bottle, running at the treadmill next to you, stretching on the mat. He watches you spar with different Avengers, giving advice and words of encouragement.

“Keep that arm up Y/N.”

“I will, thank you captain.”

“Call me Steve.”

“Steve.”  You smile.

You spar with Bucky and try to ignore Steve's looks. You don’t know if you feel flattered or uncomfortable with the attention he’s giving you. You decide that he’s probably just trying to be friendly since it’s your first day.

It doesn’t stop though and you constantly find yourself in situations with Steve. He’s in the elevator with you or walking by your room as you’re leaving. You even bump into him at the grocery store.

A week later you open your door to see Steve waiting for you just outside your room. Your heart does a flip at the sight of him standing in front of you. His hair is damp and you try to control your mind from imagining him in the shower. His tight white shirt shows off his muscles, which doesn't help your wandering mind one bit. You shift your eyes away from him and chastise yourself. God, He smells good and you wonder what soap he uses. He gives a cocky half smile and takes a step toward you.

“Good job yesterday.” He says, moving in front of your line of sight.

“Thanks.” you smile and force yourself to look him in the eyes.

He puts his hands in his pockets and rocks on his feet looking nervous.

“I thought I could treat you to coffee?”

Your heart starts beating rapidly. Is he asking you on a date? Steve Rogers asking YOU on a date? It can't be that. The flirting has to be in your head.

“I’d like that,” You mirror him, putting your hands in your pockets. You realize too late that you don’t have pockets though and end up awkwardly rubbing your hands against your sides.  Steve lets out a chuckle and you cross your arms and laugh along with him.

You follow Steve to a nearby coffee shop and he orders you a drink. The two of you sit at a semi-private table in the back next to some barely cognizant university students who are furiously typing away on their laptops.

“How are you enjoying being part of the team?” Steve asks.

“I love it! Everyone is really nice.”

“Are you nervous for your first first mission?”

“A little bit,” you confess.

“I’ll be there with you, don’t worry.”

That was definitely flirting, you think. Captain America is flirting with you.

You smile and take a sip of your coffee. This is like a romance novel, a cute coffee date with a literal super hero. It comes to an end though when you notice a kid taking a picture of the two of you. Steve frowns and cocks his head towards the prepubescent photographer.

“I think we should head back before we get more fans.” Steve Says.

Steve does a silly pose for the kid as he passes by and pulls out a signed Captain America card. The kid stands stunned looking at you as you walk out of the shop. Steve puts his hand on your back and leans in.

“Sorry this was so short. We’ll have to go somewhere more private next time.”

“Don’t apologize! The coffee was amazing, thank you so much.”

It only takes twenty minutes for you to start getting phone calls. A picture of you and Steve is all over the internet. It looks very incriminating, Steve's arm on your back and him smiling close to your ear. You answer your phone and hold it away from your ear as your friend Amy yells at you from the other end.

“Captain America!” She screams over and over again.

“Are you guys dating now or...”

“No, he was just being nice.”

“The picture looks like he’s being a lot more than nice. Please hit that Y/N, if you don’t I’ll scream.”

“You’re already screaming.” you say with a laugh.

“Seriously though, I want to be invited to your wedding one day.”

“Amy! he’s hot for sure but he’s also kinda my boss and I’m not ready for anything serious right now.” The picture of you and Steve is still in your mind. You can barely take care of yourself and certainly aren’t ready for everything involved with dating Steve Rogers.

You hang up the phone and smile to yourself. You can’t believe how your life has changed so fast. One day you’re working security at a hotel and the next you’re working with the avengers and flirting with Captain America.

---

You shake your foot nervously on the way to your first mission. Your role is simple, in fact it's almost impossible to mess up. You’re nervous anyway though. Everyone tells you it’s normal for your first mission and you take deep breaths trying to calm down.

You exit the jet and make your way into town. Your only job is to distract your mark for five minutes. You check your watch and start your way toward your mark.

“Excuse me sir?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know a good breakfast place around here?”

It’s beyond easy. You keep the conversation up for five minutes and end it quickly. Steve gives you a pat on the back after, congratulating your successful first mission. It feels off. Anyone could do what you did. You’re nowhere near as skilled as the Avengers and don’t understand why you would be picked for the job.

“What’s wrong doll?”

“I just don’t feel like I’m really good enough to be part of this team I guess.”

“You’re more than good enough.”

“But you guys are so much stronger... and faster... and smarter.”

“We look for more than those things when picking recruits. Trust me, you’re exactly what I… We need.”

You feel a little better and push away your doubts.

---

The missions become harder after the first one but you’re still never put in direct danger. They say you need more training before taking on more dangerous roles and you agree. You’re not sure if you’ll ever improve enough though and it makes you guilty, like you’re taking up space in a team that someone else could have. As you start becoming more part of the group Steve starts coming onto you more. He takes you out several times and starts becoming more physically affectionate. You like Steve. Aside from being gorgeous he’s old school, bringing you flowers and opening doors. There’s Something about him that feels disingenuous and your gut prevents you from starting a serious relationship.

You meet a barista at the same coffee shop Steve took you to. He’s cute and you  decide to give him your number impulsively. He texts you that evening and you stay up late texting back and forth. The next day everyone stares at you as you stretch before your training. You’re not sure why until you notice Steve standing outside of his office.

“Y/N, can I see you in here please.” His voice is an octave lower than usual and a chill runs down your spine.

“Of course.”

Steve closes the door and motions for you to sit down.

“I’m aware that you’ve exchanged numbers with someone who is unapproved.”

You nod slowly, confused how he knows at all and why it’s a big deal.

“This is a huge security risk.”

“I already ran a background check on him.”

Steve sits on the edge on his desk and caresses your cheek.

“Why do you want to talk to this boy when you have me?”

You push his hand away.

“I mean, I like you Steve but I’m just not ready for the commitment yet, you know that.”

His eyes narrow and he looks at the hand you pushed away.

“I understand.” He says.

You stand to leave and he calls after you.

“Oh, and remember you have a curfew. I don’t want to have to reprimand you.”

Steve feels different, unhinged. You’ve only been late a few times and only by a few minutes. You push away your worry hoping it will get better. He’s probably just not used to feeling rejected. He’ll get over it.

---

“Y/N, don’t you dare enter that building.”

“There are still people inside Steve!”

“It’s too dangerous. Help is on the way, don’t do it.”

You rip the com out of your ear and run into the building. There’s smoke everywhere and you cover your face with your arm. You make fast work of reaching the blocked room, breaking the door in and letting the room of people out. You escort them out of the building and to safety.

“Thank you so much.” A woman says, hugging you.

“No problem.” You smile.

The building starts collapsing in front of your eyes and you watch it burn. You walk back to the jet, coughing and bruised and get checked out as soon as you land.

Steve waits for you outside of medical.

“What were you thinking Agent!”

“Not now Steve.”

“It’s Captain and yes now.”

You sigh.

“I was thinking, Captain, that I needed to get those people out and I was right.”

“And what would have happened if the building had come down on you? Help was coming and you had an order. You’re lucky your lungs are ok with the smoke you inhaled.”

You push Steve out of your way and walk towards your room.

“It was a risk I was willing to take,” you call back.

You reach your room and take a long shower, thinking about everything. As much as you want to fit in with them you just don’t. Something tells you that you need to quit. You need to get out of here and never look back. you decide that you’ll hand in a two week notice tomorrow.

The next morning you wake and dress quickly still feeling the same as the night before. You head to your door and turn the knob but find it locked.

“What the fuck?” you pound on the door but nobody answers. You pick up your phone to call for help. It won’t connect to the internet or call anyone. Your computer is the same way. As the day passes you start feeling more and more uneasy. They have to know by now that something is wrong with you. your voice is raw from yelling for help and your hands bloody and bruised from pounding on the door.

Finally, hours later you hear the click of your door unlocking. You open it to see Steve standing with his arms crossed on the other side.

“I was locked in my room.” you say in a quiet voice.

“I know, I locked you in.”

“What’s wrong with you? That’s insane Steve!”

Adrenaline rushes through your body and you start pacing. Everything is telling you to get out. This is not what you signed up for.

“I quit.” you say defiantly.

Steve rushes toward you, pinning you to the wall. None of your self defence training helps you. He’s so much bigger and stronger, trying to fight is a joke. You know your best bet is to stun him somehow and run but you can barely move.

“You can’t quit doll.” He brushes a hand down your body, giving your butt a squeeze. Your eyes widen in shock.

“I’ll report you.”

“To who?”

You start thinking, your eyes darting back and forth. He slides his hand into the front of your pants and rubs the bulge in his pants against you. your breath hitches and you relax your body a bit. You scream at yourself to do something. The hand in your pants rubs against your clit expertly and it takes everything you have not to let out a moan.

“Ah, I see you’re getting it.”

His finger slides to your entrance and he prods you before submerging his finger. You gasp at the intrusion and realize that he’s barely holding onto you anymore. Your hands grasp his shoulders and you lean against him.

“This would have been much easier if you had followed my plan. You had to go putting yourself in danger.” He chides.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please you’re scaring me Steve.” you say,

“It was going so well but you’re unpredictable, flirting with that barista.”

He pushes his finger in deeper and you whimper.

“If I don’t take action now I might lose you and I can’t lose you.”

“Get away from me,” you beg.

He grasps your hip painful tight.

“You're my girl now, ok? My girl doesn’t disobey me, especially not on missions.”

He pumps his finger, coating it with slick.

You realize that he won’t listen to reason but you try anyway.

“I’m so sorry you’re right I’m your… your girl, just let me go please.”

He pulls his finger out and gives you a kiss.

“See, there’s a good girl.”

He pulls a ring out of his pocket and places it on your finger. His watch vibrates and he looks at it before kissing you on the cheek.

“We can celebrate tomorrow.” He winks.

He leaves you in the hallway and you back into your room, shaking and crying.  You don’t care if he locks you in again. You need to be in a place where you feel somewhat safe and can process everything that just happened. You take the ring off and throw it across the room.

The night is spent curled in your bed crying and the next morning you walk self consciously to the kitchen. Bucky sits at the counter eating cereal and he knits his brow when he sees you.

“Hey, what’s wrong.”

You shake your head.

“You can tell me.” He looks at you with his big kind eyes and you decide to confide in him.

“Steve… assaulted me. He’s out of his mind, saying all sorts of crazy stuff. I don’t know what to do.”

Bucky holds you close.

“You’re his girl Y/N, don’t provoke him and you’ll have a good life.”

You tear yourself away and look at him with disbelief.

“It’s not a secret Y/N and we’re on Steve's side.”

You back away and head straight for the exit hitting Tony on the way

“Woah, what’s the rush?”

“I quit.” you say, tears starting to fall.

“You can’t quit princess, you’re Steve’s.”

Your breaths become shallow and your head starts feeling light.

“How did you think you got the job in the first place Y/N?”

You run to the elevator slamming the button over and over but it won’t let you down.

“What’s wrong with Y/N?” Thor walks over.

“She’s having a hard time adjusting to being Steve’s,” Tony answers.

“Let me out.” you yell.

Steve comes out of nowhere catching you in his arms and you throw your head back and duck. He stumbles back. Other Avengers start to gather and you pull your fists up in defense.

“I want to leave.”

“Come with me back to your room doll, it doesn’t have to be this hard.”

You stand your ground and Steve goes into a fighting stance. You don’t even have a chance, he has you trapped in his arms within minutes.

“I don’t understand.”

“We got your application in the mail. As soon as I saw your picture I knew you were the one I’ve been looking for.” he coos.

“Why go through the whole facade?”

“Use your brain Y/N. Everyone knows we’re together. There’s pictures of us everywhere online. You’ve talked to friends and family about our relationship. It won’t look weird when you drop off for a while because of your job and when you come back engaged nobody will blink an eye.”

“No.”

You look at the Avengers, you’re family. None of them do anything to help you. Every single one turns their back and walks away nonchalantly like it’s just another normal day.

Steve drags you to your room and closes the door. He walks over to where you threw your ring grabbing it off the floor, and places it back on your finger.

“This doesn’t come off again,” He says.

You look at the ring and back at Steve over and over trying to make sense of all of it. Steve walks purposefully to the drawer you keep your candles and lights several, placing them around the room.

He backs you into the bed and undresses you slowly and meticulously. He sits back and looks at your naked body, taking his time touching and examining every piece. He grabs your legs and parts them, looking at your pussy and two fingers in.

“So wet for me already.”

You shake your head and he lands a slap on your thigh.

“No.” He commands.

“Be good so I don’t have to punish you. You’ve seen me work, you know what I’m capable of.”

You bite your tongue and force yourself to lie still as he slams his cock into you. You cry out in pain and he rubs your arm and whispers sweet things. He kisses you as he pushes his cock deep into you. He grabs your chin and squeezes until you open up and let his tongue in.  you reach out and grab his arms and he pulls at your leg until you hug them around him.

“You can come Y/N.” he whispers

You shake your head.

He reaches between you and pushes against your clit. You fight against it for as long as you can but it becomes too much. An orgasm crashes over you and you flutter around his cock. He thrusts hard enough that you get pushed into the headboard and seconds later he’s coming in you. He smiles down at you, lovingly stroking you face.

“I love you Y/N”

You stay silent and he pulls you into a constricting hug.

“Don’t worry doll, you’ll love me soon.”  

You’ve always been the type of person to jump into things without thinking. It’s gotten you into plenty of trouble throughout your life. You’ve always been able to get yourself out of it,

but this time.

This time you jumped too far.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.03

10/21/2020

Garden of Delights

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,411

Warnings: angst, jealousy, talks of death, talk of sickness, infant sickness, neglect, fluff

A/N: As I said, writing itself right now. lol I’m not really sure how long this story will be. I have the basic premise set and a small plot, but if I choose to make this around the size of Pseudo Princess, I’ll have to come up with a bigger plot than the simple one I’ve got. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I know I certainly loved writing it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Seriously, Thor doesn’t reblog as easily as Bucky or Steve on tumblr, so I TRULY appreciate it.

Please do not RESPOST any of my works on other sides or blogs.

REBLOGS always welcome!

You’re still laughing gently, hiding your chewing behind your hand.

“Stop.” You plead, looking across the table at Thor.

Both of you seated on opposite heads of the table. To your left is Loki, smirking with no shame at the stories just relayed. To your right is Brunnhilde, sipping her wine…well, guzzling would be more apt.

She’s teetering left and right, elbow on the table as she shakes her head at Loki across from her.

They lock eyes and Loki scoffs, “Don’t pretend as if you didn’t want to stab him too when you first met him.”

“I never said I didn’t!” She argues, plopping her glass down a little too hard and the glass makes a loud clink that draws everyone’s gaze.

“Why did you want to stab him?” You ask her, reaching for your own glass of regular wine. Thor had promised that you didn’t want to try the Asgardian mix.

“You won’t wake for a week. Trust me, Your Highness.” He’d been super proper, and it was a little annoying, but you understand why he’s being so careful. He wants to impress everyone, especially the two who sit beside him.

To his left sits a woman, absolutely drop dead gorgeous with creamy moon skin and raven hair. She’s certainly one to watch out for as Brunnhilde had said.

She hasn’t smiled once since she gave you a small stiff grin as Thor had introduced you.

Even now she watches you, her hand resting on the table, a little too close to Thor’s hand for comfort.

Her fingers seem to be inching their way towards his and you feel the beginning bite of fangs in your mouth at the thought of her hating you because she wants Thor for herself.

This also makes you sad because you don’t meet women who are as unique as she, but Lady Sif has drawn a line and you find yourself on one side with Thor while she watches from the other, despising your very existence for taking the man she covets.

On Thor’s right is a man with his dark hair in dreads. Beautiful amber eyes stand bright against his dark skin, and the luxurious gray armor he wears, sits pretty on his muscular form. To his own right is a sword, placed between him and Loki.

He looks less amused by the story Loki and Thor just told them but when he meets your gaze, his eyes betray an amusement. Heimdall, protector of the Asgardian borders, has a soft spot for his King and his friends.

“To put it short,” Brunnhilde begins, popping her lips as she lifts her wine to her lips again, eyes locked on Thor. “He’s a bit of a doofus.”

Thor’s burst of booming laughter in infectious and you laugh too, just as Loki, Brunnhilde, and even Heimdall chuckles along gently.

Lady Sif is the only one who doesn’t laugh but merely smiles as she look at Thor as he shakes his head overwhelmed with amusement.

You know what she sees, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes are endearing. The sparkle of his one blue eye. The loveliness of his golden bearded face all stretched into a stunning smile.

“I am not a doofus!” He protests, then clears his throat and taps his fingers against the table as he makes his face as serious as he can manage. “What way is that to speak of your King?”

Brunnhilde throws her head back outrageously tickled by his words.

“You may be my King, but that does not make you any less of a doofus than before you earned your crown.” She throws at him and Thor laughs again, shaking his head as you quietly chuckle with them, loving this exchange and the ease at which they seem to be.

“What about that made you want to stab him?” You ask her, everyone’s gaze drawn to you and Lady Sif’s smile vanishing.

“Well, you’ll just have to wait and see.” Brunnhilde teases. “My condolences. Being married to this buffoon will be a true test of your character.”

Although her words are said as a joke, your heart gives a small lurch as you meet Thor’s gaze again, and this time he holds it, his own face falling a little to only a soft smile as both of you replay the conversation in the hallway once again.

“I’ll just have to try my best.” You tell her, a small shrug of your shoulder. “He seems alright so far. No major red flags. Besides the obvious.”

Thor’s smile is completely gone now, his brow furrowed as he continues to stare at you, his breathing a little deeper. A little more labored.

You’re nervous as you speak, voice shaking a little as your heart pounds and aches.

“What’s that?” Loki asks, also serious suddenly, picking up on the tension between you and Thor.

It might seem like you’re letting it go on too long on purpose, using it to make everyone uncomfortable, but really you just have to find the strength to speak as your nerves begin to get the better of you.

“Well,” You begin, voice still shaking. “I mean, look at him.”

And they all do.

“He’s also been really nice to me.” You admit, because aside from the unanswered question in the hallway, Thor has treated you respectfully, politely, with genuine concern and compassion…so far. “I think the deal was that I’m supposed to marry him and it’s alright if I don’t love him but, how long can I really resist?”

Brunnhilde scoffs, purging the atmosphere for everyone else of what you’re saying allowing them to relax and laugh at your strange way of telling them you find Thor attractive.

“At least your worries about your wife not liking you are assuaged.” Heimdall claps Thor on the shoulder, visibly shaking his body, but Thor’s intense gaze is on you alone.

Swallowing hard, you reach for your wine glass and take a deep drink, so conscious of Thor’s stare.

Dinner goes on just as it began and before long, Thor is back to laughing and chatting while your own attention is given to Loki and Heimdall whenever he remembers something he’s wants to ask.

When all plates are cleaned and glasses sit empty, dinner officially over, Sif turns hard eyes on you.

“So, I hear that you don’t have parents.” The interest is forced. She couldn’t care less about you or your life.

“Yeah,” You nod. “Um, they died a few months after I was born. Plane accident.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.” Heimdall laments kindly.

Beside you, Brunnhilde has her head in her hand, elbow on the table, eyes shut and mouth slightly open.

She’d just been talking so this is new.

“Thank you, but I don’t remember them. My only sorrow comes from never having a family.” You admit. “I grew up in a school—well, really it was an orphanage, but it was run much like a private school with uniforms that the government provided along with a minimal education. I attended until I became a legal adult and my lawyer, came to give me my inheritance.”

“Why weren’t you adopted?” Sif asks, her voice full of well-hidden venom that you can hear only because you know to look for it, her hand is inching towards Thor’s again and while he’s not your husband yet, the urge to stake claim over it is strong.

The way she asks also makes you feel as if she’s waiting to see exactly what is wrong with you. What can she use against you?

You smile, a smirk really, knowing what she’s up to.

You’re not unkind, but you bristle when attacked and Sif is making it easy for you to be defensive.

Searching within yourself for the strength to keep yourself calm, you take a deep breath before you answer.

“I wasn’t a healthy baby. I was sick, all the time. There was even a night my fever became so high that the doctors were sure that I would be left with brain damage. So, they watched me grow, expecting defects, but I got sick less and less the older I got.

“My speech and motor functions were top tier, and my learning capabilities were also fine.”

Everyone is silent, watching you with somber expressions. You’re a little on edge with them paying you such close attention, but this was the point of the dinner. To get to know each other.

“Unfortunately, potential parents were warned about the possible challenges I might face as I grew older, which put many of them off. While they wanted an infant, they didn’t want one that was broken.”

“I’m sorry for their ignorance.” Heimdall offers. “Clearly you grew up to be a lovely woman, but even if you had not, I’m saddened by their lack of compassion.”

You can only smile at him, having come to terms with the facts of your childhood long ago.

“Anyway, that’s why no one adopted me. So, a true family is something I’ve never had. I’m…” You blink, wondering how honest you want to be here. “I think it’s one of the things I’m looking forward to most. After tonight, I’m more convinced than before that this is will be a good environment to build a family. You’re all so nice.”

Loki, Brunnhilde—who’s awake again—and Heimdall are smiling. Lady Sif sits stiffly, her hands pulled onto her lap as she keeps her eyes locked on the empty plate in front of her.

Your heart stutters as you meet Thor’s eyes again. Staring deep into the single blue orb still locked on you.

“As conflicted as my past with the people in this room has been, I promise you, that is the right decision.” Loki assures you, a peaceful smile on his face that somehow comforts any misgivings you’ve been having.

At least about the people you’ll be around daily.

Your conversation with Thor in the hallway is a different matter, and one that you really want to finish.

“Well,” Brunnhilde slaps her hands on the table, rising to her feet with a little sway. “I think that’ enough pleasant conversation for me. I am tired-”

“And drunk.” Loki adds.

“-And that.” She agrees. “I need some sleep. So, Y/N, Your Royal Highness this has truly been a pleasure. I will be by in the morning to see you about wedding arrangements. Not too early though, you know—”

She steps out from in front of her chair, already walking towards the door large double doors.

Heimdall rises too, then Loki, Thor, and Lady Sif.

You stand last, fixing your dress as you do, making sure it isn’t stained. Luckily, it isn’t.

“This has indeed been illuminating.” Heimdall agrees, moving over to you to take your hand and press a chaste kiss to your knuckles. “Your Highness, it has been a true pleasure. I look forward to getting better acquainted with you.”

Loki is smiling, standing by the door but then he turns his eyes on Lady Sif.

“A word, Sif?” She looks at him, freezing beside Thor where she’d already begun to take his arm to pull his attention. “It won’t take long.”

With a sigh, she gives you one look before moving out the door in a huff, Heimdall following. Loki gives Thor a nod, something silent passes between them. With one final nod to you as well, Loki leaves.

“I really am very sorry that Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun could not join us. Unfortunately, the Warrior’s Three are highly sought throughout the galaxies.” Thor says, moving towards you with calm slow steps. “They should be back for the wedding though.”

“I’m excited to meet them. Everyone was so kind.” You observe. “Well, almost.”

Thor looks confused, stopping just at the corner of the table beside you, his fingers nervously tracing the shape of the edge.

“Seriously? You didn’t notice?” You shake your head, somehow finding it funny. “I think Brunnhilde might be right about you being a doofus.”

Thor laughs once, blows a quick raspberry in denial at your conclusion. “Why do you say that?”

“Thor, Lady Sif hates me.” You point out, it’s so obvious to you and was obvious to Loki too at least.

“No.” Thor shakes his head.

“She kept trying to grab your hand! She kept glaring daggers at me.” You sigh. “She’s in love with you.”

“Sif is like a sister.” Thor tells you, as if this negates her feelings as well.

“She’s still in love with you.”

Thor sighs. “I’ll speak with her.”

“Don’t bother. I think Loki’s beating you to it.”

“Walk with me?” He asks, and your heart goes into sudden arrest.

Fingers nice and tingly, you swallow the lump in your throat. “What?”

“I would like it very much if you walked with me for a while. The night is not over yet, and despite the exhaustion of my court, it’s not actually that late yet. The gardens my people have cultivated for the palace are beautiful. I’d love to show them to you.” He offers his hand, waiting patiently for you to take it but you can only gawk at him.

“Isn’t it cold outside?” You ask, on edge.

Thor drops his hand. “Oh, right. Estrid?”

She’s already waiting by the door, auburn hair looking slightly disheveled.

“Ah, Estrid.” Thor smiles, big dopey grin on his face. “Oh, your hair…”

He gestures and she quickly fixes it.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” She gasps.

“No, no. Just looked funny.” He eases her, and she calms instantly, smiling bashfully. “Can you fetch Her Highness a jacket?”

Estrid turns and rushes from the room but returns only seconds later with a long navy cloak. It isn’t a jacket, but it will match your dress nicely.

“That’s not a jacket.” You observe, feeling self-conscious.

Thor takes it from her and holds it open for you. There’s a clasp around the throat that will sit against your collarbone. “It’s a cloak. It’ll keep you just as warm as a jacket.”

You turn for him and he slips it over your shoulders, holding it until you turn to face him then he quickly fastens the clasp.

“Better?” He checks, fixing it around you.

You can’t find your voice to answer. Heart is racing. Damn him. This isn’t going to work if he keeps being sweet.

He offers you his arm and you hesitate, timidly wrapping your hand around the lower part of his large bulky bicep again.

“Wonderful.” He smiles wide. “Estrid, Her Highness will be in later, please prepare her bedroom so that she might go to sleep as soon as we return.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” She curtsies quickly then turns and rushes out to get your room ready.

“She doesn’t have to do that.” You tell him, turning to watch her flee. “I can make my own bed and stuff.”

“It’s her job.” Thor tells you. “Will you take it from her?”

You think about it carefully, and despite the fact that  Thor is a warrior and has travelled around the world sleeping in terrible places with no comforts at times, you understand in this moment that having servants is something he’s used to.

“No.” You realize and make a mental note to let these people do their work without putting up too much of a fight.

Thor leads you off down a side door into another dark wooden hallway with beautiful cobbled floors beneath your feet with a long carpet running its length. No one seems to be walking around in this hallway which makes you think it’s more secluded.

“Did David tell you I like flowers?” You check, wondering how much information Thor has about you.

“No? I didn’t know that though. That makes this even better.” He realizes.

You lapse into silence, hand trembling around his bicep as your mind replays the last two hours, picking apart every moment, every word shared, and every lingering look Thor had given you.

“Did you enjoy dinner?” Thor asks, his voice much lower, quieter.

It’s an intimate volume and it startles you, giving you a little bit of a delay in your response.

You meet his eyes and he’s staring right at you, soft smile stretched across his lips. It’s more a peaceful expression, calming.

And yet, it has the opposite effect on you, and you gasp a little as you catch your breath. Your heart is pounding through your ribcage.

“It was good.” You nod, looking towards the large stone archway up ahead. One of the doors stands open, the Norwegian night beyond.

You can see a splash of beautiful green beyond and can already hear the soft tinkling of flowing water from what is probably a fountain.

“And the conversation?” He asks, tilting his head to one side as he gives it better thought. “Aside from Sif.”

“They were all super nice, Thor.” You smile, honestly grateful to Loki, Brunnhilde, and Heimdall for their warm welcome. “I wish Lady Sif had been more open. She’s been fighting at your side for a long time, right?”

“She has.” Thor nods, as the two of you break through the doorway and you’re greeted with an elegant garden larger than even the circular room you’d first met with Thor in.

Your jaw drops and you stop walking, gaping at the collection of flora and fauna each piece delicately pruned and cared for. There are certainly several small fountains, dark gray with small underwater lights to provide the garden with diffused illumination.

Despite the chilly night, the garden makes you feel warm with flowers of every color. Roses in white and red, lilies with stunning white, carnations in pink, wine, cream, yellow, and purple. Throughout the roses are smaller pink flowers you don’t know but they’re adorable and the fragrance in this garden is intoxicating.

“Wow.” You whisper.

“You like it?” Thor asks, smiling a little wider as he waits for you to take your long look.

“It’s beautiful.” You nod.

“Come.” He pulls you along gently, urging you to walk again.

You follow, your hand sturdier around his arm. “Do you like gardens too?”

Thor nods. “My mother used to cherish her garden. When we arrived, it was the first thing I had commissioned. They were finished building it before they even finished the palace.”

“She passed?” You wonder, looking up at the echo of sadness in his eyes.

“A while ago.” Thor nods. “I miss her counsel. She was always the voice of reason and logic in my life.”

“I’m sorry.” You offer, hoping it’s a comfort.

You reach up with your other hand, wrapping it around his arm too.

He looks down at you, eyes searching, confused? But his smile never wavers. “Thank you.”

The two of you lapse into silence again, you busy looking at every flower you pass in admiration, Thor lost in thought.

“I’m going to miss my herb garden.” You lament with a sigh.

“You had an herb garden?” Thor wonders, turning his attention back to you.

“Just a small one. I only had some rosemary and thyme. I wanted to grow some mint, parsley, basil, and dill but I didn’t get the chance.”

Thor stops walking, gently shakes his arm to make your hand slide down along his forearm. As it falls, you takes hold of it.

You’re startled, but you don’t pull away, your mind devouring the information you can gleam from this moment as quickly as it can.

His hand is warm. No…it’s hot. Like he’s had it shut for a long time. The skin is a little rough, calloused, but not uncomfortable. You can just imagine the battles he must have fought. His hand is so big. Fingers wrapped softly around yours. He gives it a squeeze and you feel it in your core that this isn’t going at all how you planned.

You almost want to run to your room and hide under your blankets with the speed at which you can feel yourself dropping your guard to him.

The plan had been to marry him, never love him, and live your life as best you can and probably take a lover at some point. You should be able to love too.

But it isn’t supposed to be Thor. You’re not supposed to fall for him.

You remind yourself of his refusal to be honest with you. You remind yourself that his heart is already given and accepted. Jane loves him too, even if she won’t marry him to prevent him from marrying someone else.

You can understand why she can’t give up her life to take on this one. It’s a lot to ask of anyone.

It helps you grasp onto reality, to remember the conversation before dinner and his inability to commit to honesty when It comes to Jane.

“I have something to show you.” He tells you and pulls you down the length of the garden until you reach a greenhouse.

Thor releases your hand and throws the doors open before holding his hand out for you to take again.

You do, and he pulls you into the narrow but long space. Each side is lined with planter boxes, each box holds a different herb, including all of the ones you mentioned before, and some you have never seen before.

“What is this?” You gasp, reaching for a particularly strange one in a deep blue, almost black color.

“It’s the Asgardian version of lavender.” He tells you, placing his other hand over the one you’re reaching out for it with. “But it stings a little for humans to touch with bare hands. There are garden glove in the box by the door if you want to cut some for your room later. It smells wonderful. My mother used to keep some on her desk.”

“I can take some?” You gasp, turning to look up at him and he’s standing so damn close, you shrink in surprise.

“Of course.” He smiles at you, “This is your home now. Anything in these gardens is yours to have.”

He’s so fucking nice! You hate him.

You’re too stunned by his proximity to speak, hands twitching under his own. He seems to realize what’s got you tongue-tied because he takes a step and one hand back but keeps hold of the other.

“I wanted to talk with you, it’s why I’ve brought you here.” He pulls you along, and you give the herb garden one final look before he shuts the doors and moves back towards the center of the garden.

There you find several white marble benches around a small manmade pond, surrounded by more flowers.

Thor leads you to one of these benches, then extends a hand towards it so that you’ll sit.

You do, nervous suddenly as he sits beside you, taking his hand back for the first time since he began to show you the garden.

“You’re making me nervous.” You admit, your mouth moving before you can stop it. Anxious is not a good state for you.

“No.” He assures you, shaking his head, full of concern. “No, please don’t be nervous. I only wanted to continue our conversation from before dinner.”

“Oh.” You nod, expecting to be denied the honesty you want.

How will you use his refusal to do it as an excuse to not fall for him if he agrees to it?

“You’re right.” He nods, turning in the seat to face you a little better, your body mirroring his.

“I am?”

“Yes.” He takes a long deep breath. “After everything that was said during dinner, after watching my friends meet with you and get to know you, I realize that you’re right in what you say. I am asking a lot from you. More than I care to admit.”

Your mouth is suddenly dry.

“Did you mean what you said?” He whispers, a trace amount of uncertainty in his deep voice.

“What did I say?” You ask, voice not as quiet but still a little breathless.

“About falling for me?”

“Oh.” Your brain goes fuzzy and your heart is probably going to burst through your chest like in that one horror movie you watched as a kid.

“Truth is, I chose you because you were different.” He nods. “Not, different from regular humans. Most of them are very much like you, which is great. I love humans. But compared to the other ladies that came to meet for this purpose, I…if I’d wanted someone who would turn a blind eye while I and Jane continued to see each other, then I should have chosen one of them.

“They knew what was expected, as did you, but I didn’t consider how the difference in you would affect your own responses.”

“Are you saying you don’t want me anymore?” You ask timidly, feeling a rush of emotions all mixing together, turning into confusion.

You’re almost happy that he doesn’t want you anymore. You won’t have to marry him and deal with Jane and a life of standing by watching him be with someone else while the world thinks you’re together.

Another part of you, the part that’s already out of your control—even though you’ll never admit it—can’t help but feel depressed that he’ll be married to someone else.

“No!” Thor rushes to assure you, sliding over closer so that he can take your hand again, his knee touching yours. “No, that’s not at all what I’m saying. What I’m saying is that I understand what you meant. I know why you were upset. I’m sorry that I did not consider this whole thing more carefully from your perspective.”

You feel a wave of relief and know you’re screwed. It’s already too late.

“But I need you to answer my question.” He says.

Your eyes go wide at the audacity of this man as you laugh because it’s so funny of him to need that of you when he couldn’t return the favor before. “You didn’t answer mine!”

He smiles, chuckling. “Answer mine first.”

As you consider him, blue eye staring at you with no restraint for the way his gaze makes you feel, your mood grows somber, all traces of your laugh gone.

“Yes.” You sigh. “I’ve never been in love before.”

You shrug.

“And it’s not like you’re not…I mean…You know damn well what you look like.” You growl.

Thor laughs, throwing his head back.

“And then you come in with that voice and you’re not rude or…I mean, you were a little mean with the whole asking me to put up with being married and having no love in it. Like, I get that it might be normal for royals or whatever, but I’m not really royal. I haven’t lived in a palace with servants and a crown on my head.

“I grew up in an orphanage with no friends. No one has ever loved me. My parents loved me, I think, but they died and no one has cared about me like that since. Even now, the only person on my side is David, and I know he only stuck around because he felt bad for me. He’s also getting paid by my estate, so…there’s that.

“I’m not asking you to love me. I know that you love someone else, but I was only asking for you to be open with me about it. If you want to meet Jane, fine. Meet her. But do it somewhere that I can’t see. Do it but tell me that’s where you’ll be so that even if rumors fly in my ear that Thor is meeting with his mistress, it won’t hurt as much. It won’t make me feel as stupid, because I already know that’s where you are.”

Thor’s hand over yours grows tighter, his face lamenting for who knows what reason, because you’re not in his head but you can see that he feels bad which is stupid and you hate him for it because it means he cares.

You only just met him but with every passing moment in his presence, you fall more and more. It’s not love yet. You know that. It can’t be a crush because you know him too well. You like him. You’ll admit that.

“To answer your question more clearly,” You take a deep breath, exhaling quickly to wipe away the excess of emotion that surged forward suddenly. “Yes. I meant it. I don’t love you now, but I think I could.”

Thor nods, looking down at your hand, turning it over in his own.

The silence feels endless! He won’t speak, but his thumb keeps caressing your hand and you kinda wanna bite him for it.

“If my mother were here, she’d be disappointed in me. She’d tell me that I should let go of Jane. She met her, and while she liked her but…We are clearly moving along different paths and as much as I love her, she is not the one for me. Not anymore. My mother would definitely think so.

“I think she would have really liked you.” He admits, and his words give you comfort. “She would have called me a fool to pass up such a sweet and level-headed woman.”

“I’m not that level-headed.” You confess. “I’ve got anxiety issues sometimes.”

Thor smiles.

“I think she would have been right.”

Wait, is he saying what you think he’s saying?

“I will talk with Jane tomorrow to…to break things off. It won’t be the first time for us to part ways and I think in the long run it will be better for us both.”

“Thor, you don’t have to-”

“But I do.” He nods, meeting your eyes. “I need to let go of my past to embrace my future. And that’s you and New Asgard. It’s my people.”

“I want this marriage to work.” He continues. “I chose you and I meant that choice. Out of all the women I met, your picture of an ideal marriage was the closest to mine. It would make me happy to live that life with you.”

You’re breathless, chest heaving as you struggle to find a coherent thought.

Thor seems to realize that you’re struggling because he places your hand on your lap, tapping it gently before scooting back a little to give you space.

He’s so fucking massive! How is it possible that this is seriously your life? This God will be your husband. You’re going to have his kids?!

Your cheeks burn, neck burns, ears burn, legs suddenly clenched together as the fear from before runs quickly through your mind.

They’d wanted a maiden and they got one. Will he talk about it with you later? You can’t bear to talk about it now. You’re too embarrassed and overwhelmed by what he’s saying.

“So,” He starts, rising to his feet to tower over you. Then he falls, gliding gently onto one knee before reaching into his pants to pull from his pocket a small brown pouch.

He opens it, turns it over, and into his hand tumbles a shining silver ring.

“I chose this before I knew you liked flowers but now that I know, it makes me glad I picked it.” He smiles, “It just made me think of you when I went searching so, I hope you like it.”

He grabs it with two fingers, pinching the thin band delicately to hold it upright so that you can see the stunning design. A round diamond rests in the middle, shining brilliantly at the center of what looks like a lotus flower made of smaller diamonds filling its leaves.

You hate him because you absolutely love this ring. You love the sight of him on his knee in front of you. You love the way he scoots closer so that he can hold your hand easier as he gently straightens it and presses the ring to the tip of your finger.

“Will you marry me, Y/N? Will you be my Queen?” He asks, and you’re so silent, he grows visibly nervous. “Please?”

You laugh at the hitch in his voice, the plea there.

“Yes, stupid.” You laugh again.

He chuckles as he slips the ring on your finger, then after a moment of hesitation, he hooks his hand behind your neck and pulls you down to meet his lips.

Eyes wide, heart stopped, you freeze as hot lips fry your nervous system.

[heytherejulietx]

Surprise ~ Jughead Jones

Masterlists

Requests are OPEN (for Bughead only)

Read on AO3 here.

Notes - Okay so this is the fic I promised you guys at Christmas. Yes I know it took forever and I’m so sorry but I’m so so so glad it’s out now you have no idea!!!! I really hope you enjoy it please let me know if you do! Thank you to @lathyrusodorxtus to helping me write Bret and help me make him a douche, ily lee.

Warnings - Slight sweating.

Word count - 3k.

Riverdale tag list - @bucky-j-barnes @adorably-sweet-hufflepuff @kpopgirlbtssvt @booksmusicteaandanimals @happy-puff @teenloves

Fic tag list - @typicaljuggie

Fill out this form to join my tag list.

Her fingertips lightly brushed over the checkered blue and white quilt cover that covered his bed as she sat waiting for him to arrive. Whilst she had been in the space that her boyfriend essentially lived in before, it still was new to her. His side of the room wasn’t messy, as she had expected from her boyfriend, who had created quite a mess in Archie’s bedroom when he had been staying with his best friend. He had some stacks of different books on his desk that she could only guess were reading materials for his class, and some different drafts piled beside them, though it was all neat. She couldn’t say the side for his roommate's side of the room, which was littered with different scrunched up balls of paper and even some clothes on his nightstand and the floor.

Jughead had been at the school for only a few weeks, though she hadn’t seen him since he had moved in. He had been busy with his studies and she had been occupied with other things back in Riverdale, and they just hadn’t had time to see each other. Though after multiple calls from Jughead explaining how he felt like an outsider there, and multiple times she had almost cried because she missed him; it was enough to buy a train ticket to meet him at his school.

Stonewall Prep had a sort of atmosphere to it that she didn’t like. It was cold, for a start. The corridors and halls were all freezing cold, unlike the warmth that came from most of the buildings in Riverdale, and the only warmth she did have was in Jughead's dorm after she had turned on the small heater in the corner of his dormitory. Though the people there were making it worse. She had walked past a few of his classmates on her way into the private school, and they seemed to all have the same cold stare that made her a little uneasy. Jughead had told her that his classmates weren’t the nicest of people, and she could see why very clearly.

Though anything negative had been cleared from her mind as soon as she heard the doorknob turning and the creak of the old wooden door as it was pushed open, revealing the person who she’d been missing terribly for weeks. It was like she was walking through a desert and he was her oasis; he was so beautiful. His signature beanie was sat atop of his head as usual, light raven curls peeking out from underneath the grey wool which caused her to smile. The red tie that was a part of his uniform was loosened and his top button was undone, his collarbones barely peeking out from the white fabric. And the sleeves of his blazer were rolled up slightly, exposing his olive-toned forearms. In usual Jughead fashion, he walked into the bedroom juggling two books, his laptop case, and a cup of coffee; which she could see was still hot by the steam rising from the mug. She smiled softly when seeing he was using the mug that she had gotten him for the previous Christmas that they had shared together. It had been a dumb joke present that had a literary pun that read “Why are writers always cold? Because they’re surrounded by drafts.” And whilst Jughead had groaned about how bad of a pun it was, he’d taken it to Stonewall with him anyways.

It only took a second for him to spot her. She was practically beaming as she watched his gaze drift upwards from the floor to land on her, and if it were possible her smile widened at the sight of his blue eyes lighting up and a smile quickly taking over his expression.

“Hey,” He breathed out through the grin, quickly emptying his arms of his belongings to a free spot on the nearest unit as she stood up from his bed. “What’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to come and surprise you.” She beamed and crossed the small space of the dormitory that was between them, before she giggled as he pulled her into his arms and hugged her so tightly that her feet lifted off of the floor slightly as he’d lifted her up.

Her arms locked tightly around his shoulders as he did around her waist, and she melted into his touch with a warm smile and a sigh of content. It had been weeks without his touch, his warmth; and she had never known such torture as not being able to be held by her beloved. Through all of the sleepless nights and the tears she shed over not being able to be with him, in that moment she felt it was all worth it by being able to see him then. She pressed her face into the material of his blazer and inhaled deeply, relaxing more in his arms as the familiar smell of old books and coffee beans washed over her senses. She used to hate the smell of coffee, when she’d started dating him she complained all the time, though now she couldn’t get enough of it, because coffee smelt like him.

“I missed you so much.” Jughead murmured into her hair, his arms subtly tightening around her frame as he spoke.

“I missed you too.” She whispered as she smiled softly. “Sorry I didn’t come down any sooner. I wanted to but I’ve just been so caught up with everything. And I know you have too.”

“No, don’t apologise darling.” Jughead flattened his palm against her back and gently rubbed it through the soft material of her jumper. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

Her eyes fluttered open and looked up at him when she felt him move back slightly, and couldn’t help but smile brightly when she met his eyes and the smile that he was wearing too. It had been too long since she’d seen that smile in person. Video calling each other was fine, but it was never enough. It could never make up for not being able to see the real thing.

His hand moved from her back and her smile softened a little when his palm cupped the side of her face and tilted it up slightly, before he leaned down and met her lips with his in a soft kiss.

When was the last time she had kissed him? She couldn’t even picture it, though she knew for a fact that whatever she had remembered kissing him like was nothing compared to the real thing. Butterflies rose up in her stomach as she melted into his touch, her hands resting on his chest as he pulled her closer by a hand on her lower back. She hadn’t felt so warm and euphoric since the last time she had seen him; and in that moment she couldn’t imagine anything better than kissing Jughead Jones.

Though before either of them could pull away from the kiss, the noise of the door creaking open behind them filled the room, before a quiet chuckle followed. “Sorry, I’m not interrupting am I?”

Jughead looked visibly annoyed as he pulled away and sighed as he turned to face the person at the door, reaching for her hand in the process. She turned to look at who was standing at the door and smiled politely, not recognising who was there. He was taller than Jughead, though only by a little, wearing the same uniform though his was a little more presentable; his tie on properly and his sleeves not rolled up. In his hand he carried a laptop bag that looked a little like the one Jughead had, though it was a lighter brown in colour instead. Was this the roommate Jughead was constantly complaining about?

“Nope.” Jughead answered him a little stiffly, and upon looking up at him she could see his jaw was clenched, in - what she guessed was - annoyance. This was definitely his roommate.

“Good, I’d hate to intrude.” The guy at the door chuckled quietly again, before he shifted his gaze from Jughead and onto her with a lift of his eyebrows and a slight smirk.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you around before.” He mused, and she couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy under his gaze. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Y/N.” Jughead answered for her, and as he spoke he let go of her hand to move an arm around her waist instead. It wasn’t often that Jughead got jealous or protective, though she could definitely tell when he did. Her hand lifted to lightly rub his arm, and once he had glanced down at her she shook her head slightly, as if to tell him it wasn’t worth getting mad over.

“Y/N huh? A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” The guy smirked slightly, and this time she didn’t mind at all once Jughead had tightened his arm around her slightly. “Bret Weston Wallis, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Tell me, doll, what’re you doing with someone like him?” Bret eyed Jughead for a moment before his gaze locked with hers once more. “Charity work?”

A frown quickly formed over her features when she felt Jughead stiffen at her side, and she glared at Bret as the frown quickly turned into a scowl. She knew more than anybody else that Jughead was insecure of his past. He had asked her a few times about why she chose him, of all other people. Why choose the kid from the broken home instead of the put-together kid from a happy one? And although she knew Jughead understood her feelings completely, after almost three years together, she could tell comments like that still hurt him. And truthfully they hurt her too.

“Because I love him, you dick.” She shot back, though he just chuckled at her again which got on her nerves even more. It was like he was mocking her

“Easy there, I’m just letting a beautiful girl like yourself know your options. You don’t know what you’re missing out on until you experience it, sweetheart.” He winked at her and she scowled.

She could tell Jughead was itching to say something by the way he kept his jaw clenched and his hands in fists, his knuckles turning white under the pressure. Though she simply rubbed his arm to let him know it was okay as she stood up a little straighter in front of Bret. It definitely wasn’t the first time Y/N had gotten into an argument with someone taller and stronger than her; back in her sophomore year she had gotten into constant arguments with people like Reggie Mantle for picking on Jughead among others, so it wasn’t new for her. She wasn’t someone who enjoyed conflict, though she would never stand for someone being nasty. Especially not towards herself or her boyfriend.

“Trust me, I’m not missing out on anything. I’ve experienced it.” She glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest, only growing more aggravated when Bret had simply laughed and looked back up at Jughead instead with an irritating smirk.

“She’s feisty. I like that.”

Bret’s words had her face twisting in disgust as she glared at him, feeling Jughead fully tense at her side before he let go of her to step forwards and lightly push him towards the door. “Okay, Bret, go and find Donna or someone.” Jughead spoke stiffly, clearly trying to keep his anger in check as he opened the door and nudged Bret to walk out of the room.

“Okay okay, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. I can see you want to be alone,” He rolled his eyes and went to leave the room, though at the last moment turned back to face Y/N as he leaned against the doorframe. “You know where to find me if you're ever looking for an,” He paused as he turned to look at Jughead, very clearly giving him a once-over, before his eyes returned back to Y/N. “...upgrade.”

Her expression twisted into an angry scowl and she opened her mouth to say something, though before she could Jughead slammed the door in his face, still clearly tense.

“Your roommate is an asshole.” She frowned as she moved back over to him, sighing as she moved her arms around his waist to hug him. Y/N couldn’t imagine how much worse Bret might be when she wasn’t around, and the thought made her frown. Jughead stayed at Stonewall Prep five days a week, and for the majority of his time that was what he had to deal with? It just wasn’t fair.

“I know,” Jughead sighed as he moved his arms back around her, dropping a kiss to her hair before he rested his head on top of her’s, swaying them slightly as he gently held onto her. “I don’t like him on an average day, but I definitely don’t like him talking to you like that.” Jughead huffed and his hold on her tightened subtly.

“I’m sure he won’t bother us again, and if he does I’ll punch him.” She joked and giggled quietly, smiling once Jughead had pulled back enough to look at her.

“Oh yeah, I’ve got no doubt about it. You’re extremely threatening, all four feet of you.” He cracked an entertained grin as she gasped in mock offence, lightly smacking his chest.

“Hey! I’m way taller than four feet, you’re so mean. I’m not even short.”

“Oh yeah?” Jughead challenged and raised his eyebrows a little, smirking slightly. “Kiss me then.”

Y/N scowled playfully as she leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him as challenged, though without him helping her by leaning down slightly she could only just about reach to press her lips against the underside of his jaw.

“You got it, short stack?” Jughead teased.

She just huffed and moved her hands to the side of his neck to pull him down so she could kiss him properly, causing him to chuckle quietly against her lips as his hands found her waist, holding her against himself as he walked her backwards until the backs of her knees hit the edge of his bed, causing her to sit down.

“I’m not short.” She playfully glared at him, though her expression changed to a more fond smile when his hands tilted her head up slightly to look up at him.

“Mhm, I’m sure you’re not.” He responded teasingly before he just leaned down to kiss her again as she knocked his beanie off of his head to thread her fingers through his soft hair to pull him closer to her.

Just over an hour later she sighed as she felt his fingers gently moving through her hair, brushing any loose strands from her face. They were laying across his bed with the sheets just about up to their hips so they didn’t overheat underneath the extra material. All she was wearing was his white button-up that he had been in earlier as she rested her head against his shoulder, her fingers tracing invisible shapes and lines across his bare chest as he held her against himself.

“I’m sorry we don’t see each other more often.” Jughead spoke softly into her hair.

Y/N glanced up at him and shook her head as she smiled softly. “You don’t need to apologise, baby,” She said softly, her hand moving to his side again so she could run her thumb lightly over his ribs. “I’d rather you stay here and take this amazing opportunity with your writing then stay somewhere that won’t help you at all,” Y/N leaned up to gently kiss his jaw. “Your roommate might be a dick and so might your classmates, but it’s not like they’ll kill you.”

“Don’t jinx it.” Jughead mumbled jokingly and she giggled quietly as she felt him press a kiss to her forehead softly. “Are you sure you’ll be okay without me there the whole time? I worry about you, y’know.” He sighed.

She couldn’t help but smile softly as he moved his hand from her hair to gently rest it along her jawline instead, the pad of his thumb running along her cheek. Of course she missed him whilst he was away, but Stonewall Prep was important. It was a chance for him to enhance his already amazing writing skills and take his talent even further than what he had. She couldn’t get in the way of that. They would have all the time in the world when he was finished, but for now it was important he kept at what he was doing.

“I’ll be fine, Jug,” She said softly. “This is important for you, and if I do ever need you I’ll call you.”

“You promise?” Jughead raised his eyebrows a little.

“I promise.”

He sighed though accepted her answer nonetheless, a soft smile painting over his lips as he leaned down to press his lips against hers softly for a long moment before he pulled back to look at her.

“I’m going to miss that beautiful face, though.” He smiled fondly, his thumb circling her now pink cheek.

“And I’ll miss yours.” Y/N giggled, kissing him again for a long moment before she pulled away to lean her head against his shoulder again.

“I love you so much.” Jughead said softly, his fingers combing through her hair again as she relaxed into him a bit more.

“I love you, too,” She smiled and turned her head to gently kiss his jaw again before she nuzzled her face into the side of his neck, enjoying the peaceful moment with her boyfriend in his arms.

[plus-size-reader]

Lightweight

Natasha Romanoff x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1475 words

Warnings: alcohol?

Summary: Natasha has the sweetest, most lightweight gf who gets a little too enthusiastic about Thor's liquor

I really love the HC where Bucky and Nat are really close, and used that a lot in this one. It just makes me happy. 

——————————————————————————————————

To say that you weren’t what people expected when they thought about Natasha’s partner was an understatement.

The two of you couldn't have been more different, but she always said that was why you worked so well together. Where she was a bit rough around the edges and aggressive, you couldn't have been softer. While she was a literal assassin, you taught kindergarten in a small school downtown.

Really, there was no reason for anyone to think the two of you would have ever crossed paths.

...and maybe they wouldn't have, if it hadn't been for the party.

It was no secret that Natasha wasn’t super vocal about her private life, and that didn’t really change much when it came to you. While she didn’t hide you away, or pretend that you weren’t part of her life, she just didn’t believe in oversharing in the way certain other avengers did.

She was private.

She always had been, and it seemed easier to keep those sorts of things to herself, even when they made her as happy as you did. Maybe it was because she was paranoid, and worried for your safety, or being selfish and keeping you to yourself.

In any case, it was fine for a while, but over several months, you two got more and more close, and keeping you away from the Avengers wasn’t an option.

They were her family, and she wanted you to feel close to them. She wanted you to be able to get to know them and vise versa, that way maybe Steve would stop trying to set her up with all kinds of random people.

Admittedly though, this wasn't what Nat had in mind when she suggested that you come with her to the party Tony was throwing.

Speaking of, at the moment, you were standing on the table in Tony Stark’s apartment, surrounded by all her friends, dancing like a maniac and carrying on. It was quite a scene, but no one was really surprised.

If there was one thing that they had picked up on in the last few hours of the event, it was that you were very clearly a lightweight.

From the moment you walked in the door, they all knew that you had no place in this world, in Natasha’s world. You had sensible shoes on, and not a hair was out of place. As far as the Avengers were concerned, you'd wandered in from the street, searching for the Barnes and Noble.

Anything would have made more sense than you actually showing up here on purpose.

Though, when you walked through the door hand-in-hand shortly after a very dolled up Natasha, everything sort of snapped into place for them. She had been talking cryptically about a new partner she was seeing for quite some time.

The pieces fell into place organically from there.

You entered slowly, surveying the place with quick eyes darting back and forth. It was like you were going to miss something if you weren't careful. It wasn't until you laid eyes on Clint that you visibly relaxed.

A second friendly face made it a little easier to not have to cling to your girlfriend all night long.

Luckily, the cocktails came pretty quickly after you did and that helped you loosen up even more. "Who's carrying Y/N to the car tonight?" Clint laughed, tossing an arm around your shoulder, making it clear he was joking with you.

The others laughed as well, though they didn't know that the man was drawing from personal experience. The first time you three got together and had dinner, you drank a glass of wine and nearly had to be carried out to the car.

It was funny looking back, though in the moment, you had been so sick that you slightly winced at the memory.

He often joked that getting you drunk was like giving a baby a lemon for the first time, except there was no limit to how many times they could get a laugh out of it. That was about the time that Thor brought out a special treat, something he had been waiting to share for quite some time in hopes that it would provide some much needed entertainment.

Though, this was much better than he could have even expected.

Somewhere along the line, the music had gotten turned all the way up and was blaring through the speakers while you danced, without a care in the world.

You couldn’t even handle regular beer and wine, with hard liquor being out of the question. It only followed that something out of this realm was going to be much harder to handle.

“You-” you slurred, somehow trying to scream over the music. Everyone else was remaining rather calm, all things considered, just watching the situation unfold. Steve and Bucky were still as sober as can be, with Thor, Banner, and Tony hardly feeling anything.

They didn't seem to even bat an eye as you made a fool out of yourself, finding the entire exchange endearing if nothing else.

However, Nat, who you were now pointing out, was anything but calm. All she could think about was you tripping and falling off that table, or getting hurt in some other way. Even if you didn’t somehow break your neck, she knew you would have a killer hangover tomorrow.

“You, are so beautiful” you stammered, finishing your sentence which was a miracle at this point. Your had been stuttering and blanking through several songs that she knew you knew by heart, which was usually when she cut you off.

It was sweet, sure, but she could hardly even react before the laughs set in.

“Awe, you hear that ‘tasha” Barton grinned, gesturing up at you with the tail end of his beer, which he had been nursing for the last hour. He had never been much of a drinker, especially not since having kids.

He was just soaking it all in.

"You hush, I love her so much" you tutted, earning another gaggle of laughs from the surrounding group. You didn’t care that she was a killer, or that she had a past more blood soaked than anyone else's you'd ever known.

All you cared about was her, and the way that she made you feel. You knew that she was no threat to you, or anyone else, as far as you were concerned.

Natasha couldn't hurt a fly, at least when you were in her presence. You really thought that she was a good person, and knowing that made her feel like less of the monster she'd come to believe she was in recent years.

You believed in her, and that was enough for her.

Still, that sort of loving, reassuring was hard to focus on while you were fighting with the buttons of your blouse. "Okay sweetheart, let's get you down" Bucky suggested, shooting the redhead a glance for permission which she gave gratefully before he helped you down from the table.

He never would have touched you without some kind of allowance but he had been around enough intoxicated young ladies to know that nothing good ever came after they started stripping.

The large man lifted you from the table without any problem at all, making you gasp before erupting into a fit of giggles. "Hey, get your hands off me you big teddy bear, I'm taken" you grinned, clearly amused with yourself.

Bucky said nothing, only setting you down on the couch where he'd been sitting a few seconds ago. Perhaps out of second nature, he headed toward the front door to get your shoes, just like he'd done for Steve all those years ago.

Believe it or not, he had never been able to hold his liquor either, and Buck had spent a number of nights scooping his little buddy up of the floor and cleaning vomit out of his car. Seeing you in a similar state just triggered some old instinct in him.

"You need help getting her home?" Tony asked finally, talking to Natasha. Even if he had asked you, you weren't paying him any mind. You were too busy admiring Steve's blue eyes for anything like that.

The redhead only smiled in thanks before shaking her head. "No, I've got this." she smiled, making it clear to the rest of the group that this also wasn't her first time dealing with this from you.

"Let me know when you get home, and don't forget the water and aspirin" Bucky suggested, giving Nat a sideways hug before handing her your shoes. She smiled in thanks again, gathering herself while you muttered your goodbyes to all your new 'best friends'.

"Good to meet you sweetheart" Bucky hummed, helping you into your shoes while Natasha said goodbye to Clint and the others, thanking them for a great evening. Right now, you were on cloud nine with no signs of ever coming down, but they all knew you would be in a world of hurt in the morning.