#bucky barnes x you soulmate

[darsynia]

Adversarial 1/? (Bucky/Mechanic!Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | RO ROLL MASTERLIST | gif by @dailybuckybarnes

Summary: The textbooks all say that finding your soulmate feels like figuring out your place in the world, something you’ve always thought was utter bullshit, but--

…but your soulmate has a mechanical arm

Word Count/Warnings: 4,000 | explicit sex

As 2/7 of my birthday fics for @ronearoundblindly, adVERsarial is a Soulmate AU 'enemies to lovers' with a brash, outspoken f!reader. Stay tuned for more, and feel free to drop a comment if you'd like to be on the tag list!

Excerpt:

“Are you the lead mechanic? Stark said I could find them here.”

“I am, and I’ll be honest, I’m more than a little bummed out that those aren’t the words written all over my mitt, here,” you tell Captain America, holding up your (grime-covered, unreadable) left hand.

A ripple of… something tugs his eyebrow upward for a few seconds, and he smiles politely. “I get that a lot.”

You feel the burn of triumph in your chest and move in for the killing blow. “Oh really? I wish you’d kept a list, Rogers, because I’d love to meet more female mechanics.”

Adversarial

Your soulmate can go straight to hell.

First of all, your Words are written on your fucking hand, and it almost takes up the whole thing! Who the fuck thought that was okay?

Schools don’t let you cover your hands, did your jerkface soulmate ever think of that? No? Classic.

Oh, and then there are the bullies. So. Many. Bullies. Telling the new kids to come up and say the words to greet you was predictable, but exploiting teachers’ inherent laziness-- ‘but Mrs. DoNothing, I was just reading the words off her hand!’ --was icing on the shit sundae.

You graduated from that hellhole, moved as far away as possible, and got a job that would cover you in gunk so you wouldn’t have to think about your Words every single day.

Now it’s seven years later and your boss asks you to come along on his fancy-ass job at the Avenger Hideout in upstate New York. You’re sure you’ll be kicked to the curb when you meet Stark himself, though. The man is snark incarnate, and you can rarely pass up an opportunity to mouth off.

“‘Sit down and shut up if you want to stay alive,’” he quotes, right after the handshake. The smug look on his face is warranted, because working with the Avengers is one of the few times your soulmate words apply to regular life.

“Yeah I’ll stay standing if it’s all the same to you,” you smile, with too many teeth and everything. You usually choose something more spicy, but you really want this job. Besides, Stark’s soulmark words are well known, so you don’t have to speak to history here.

“As long as you keep your death wish to yourself like everyone else in the asylum, we’re cool. Welcome aboard.”

The Avengers Compound is pretty sweet, actually, and your coworkers don’t seem like the typical stooges. It takes almost a month to persuade them that you really do enjoy the dirtiest, toughest jobs, and after that everything is smooth, filthy sailing. It’s always a good day if you end it needing a long, hot shower and half a bottle of degreasing soap.

There’s an iPad mounted within floor-view for people to text you if they need something. It doubles as your personal DJ, so when the sound cuts out, you slide your ass out from underneath the Quinjet you were servicing to find a pair of boots standing next to it. As you rise gracefully (read: clamber) to your feet, their owner speaks.

“Are you the lead mechanic? Stark said I could find them here.”

“I am, and I’ll be honest, I’m more than a little bummed out that those aren’t the words written all over my mitt, here,” you tell Captain America, holding up your (grime-covered, unreadable) left hand.

A ripple of… something tugs his eyebrow upward for a few seconds, and he smiles politely. “I get that a lot.”

You feel the burn of triumph in your chest and move in for the killing blow. “Oh really? I wish you’d kept a list, Rogers, because I’d love to meet more female mechanics.”

Until this point, he’d been holding himself like the soldier that he is, with the same stiff courtesy you’d seen from his rare television appearances. That all falls away, now. Rogers clears his throat, hitting his fisted hand on his chest as though knocking loose his initial impression of you, then extends that hand out for you to shake.

Your eyebrows skyrocket at just how much grease he’ll end up with if he goes through it, but Captain America’s outstretched hand doesn’t waver.

It’s time for you to knock loose your first impression. You give him a respectful nod and grasp his hand firmly. The grip slips as you shake, but you don’t offer any apology, and Rogers doesn’t seem to need one, not even when there’s a squishing sound as you both disengage. You take pity on the man and snag him a blue towel from your workbench.

“So, what do you need that Stark couldn’t Lord it down here and ask for himself?”

The towel is doing nothing. “We’ve got a mission coming up that will involve some repair work mid-way. Refugee camp in the middle of a regional conflict, with aggressors who like to send self-destructive drones to ruin our day. Army thinks it’s cheaper if it’s us, and not them.” He gestures towards your large tool bag. “We’d like to get in, get fixed back up, and get out in a hurry, and Stark says you’re the…” he pauses.

“Say it.”

“‘Gremlin’ for the job,” he says, apologetically offering back the newly-soiled towel with his still-soiled hand.

“Sounds about right. Have his Jeeves give me the details, yeah?” You start whistling as you scooch back down to finish up the job you’d been working on when Rogers had come in. It takes a not-inconsiderable amount of time for him to walk back out, and you count that as a win.

They were… not kidding about the danger of the mission.

The trip out had been unpleasant as hell, gaining you some unwanted on-the-job experience with what it’s like being motion-sick under fire. As expected, the vehicle is hit by two diligent little destructo-bots, but you take care of the first one handily. Getting the second off and its damage mitigated is made more difficult by the urgency in the comms.

The team is on the way with the refugees in tow, and they want to take off as soon as they get back. Doing that with unknown damage is a terrible idea.

“All right, you heat-seeking little bot-barnacle, you ARE coming off, even if I have to pry off a panel of the ship to do it!” you snap, five minutes later. You're bluffing, since can’t even tell if the damned thing’s done any damage or if the sum total of its effect is ‘skewering the hull and sitting there smug as hell about it.’ The team is getting closer and closer, and the pounding of your heart is so loud you can hear it like a drumbeat in your ears.

They turn out to be footfalls, not your heartbeat.

A metal hand appears out of utterly nowhere and grabs the attack drone, ripping it out of the hull and throwing it with enough force to send it a half mile away. You’re left with your mouth hanging open as the owner of the hand (the arm. It’s an arm, and it’s the most gorgeous piece of machinery you’ve ever, ever seen) turns to face you. He’s wearing tactical gear and a sour expression, and every one of your blood vessels have converted themselves to gasoline at the very sight of him.

“That’s quite an arm you’ve got, soldier,” you quip.

His face twists into fierce fury as he points to the ramp leading into the Quinjet. “Sit down and shut up if you want to stay alive.”

For once in your life, you do what you’re told without complaint or combativeness. The phrase ‘internal combustion’ has never been so apt. The textbooks all say that finding your soulmate feels like figuring out your place in the world, something you’ve always thought was utter bullshit, but--

…but your soulmate has a mechanical arm.

The rest of the team shows up mere seconds later, and from there you’re caught up in the whirlwind of weight balancing, choosing what to ditch to fit every last person in the vehicle. For a few crazy minutes, it seems your grouchy soulmate might be left behind to fend for himself (you have no idea who he is, but you’re completely certain this man could wipe out the entire platoon that Rogers says is heading their way), but you and Stark figure out an overspeed hack that can work for just long enough to get somewhere safe.

You’re too busy keeping your ride in the air to think about anything else, and once you’re all back on solid ground, disembarking is a madhouse. You and Stark are the last two off the thing. He flips up his helmet and gives you one of his thousand-watt smiles.

“Great job today. Forgot to tell you Barnes was with us for this one.”

“Barnes?” you ask, distractedly running your calloused fingers over the rift where the perfect man had pulled out the drone. It looks like a patch might work, rather than having to get a piece machined. 

“James 'Bucky' Barnes. The Vodka Popsicle?” Stark comes over and makes a show of frowning at the way you’re just shrugging. “See, if you were fun, you’d be pretending you have no idea so you can milk me of all the good nicknames.”

The soulmate thing is burning a fuse in the back of your mind, and you don’t have enough left in your tank to banter. “I really don’t know, Motor Mouth. I just kept my head down and did my job.”

You smack the hull of the Quinjet and start toward the elevator bank, secretly pleased with your own stupid nickname. ‘Barnes’ sounds familiar, but you can’t place the name.

“Come on, CS, you had to have seen his arm!”

This stops you in your tracks so quickly you can almost hear the record scratch sound. Right at that moment, you realize where you heard the name Bucky Barnes: in your high school history class! This has to be fake, some stupid Superhero hazing or something.

You spin on your heel, about to accuse Stark of only remembering the name because he had a hot teacher that day, but at the very last minute you remember his father was a WWII war hero. Fine, you can go with 'snark overload' instead. “Friend of your dad’s, then? What happened? Time machine?”

“Fascist Russian trauma, actually,” he says, herding you into the elevator. “JARVIS, can you take over? I need to fly home to the Missus.”

“Wait, Stark--” He’s in the air before you can finish objecting.

One enlightening elevator ride later, you make your way to your workshop in a trance. This whole thing is a coincidence. It has to be. The man has gone through hell, vanquished hell, joined its army only to claw his way out... and his reward is what?

You?

“Took you long enough,” a voice says from the darkest corner of the space. You don’t have to guess who it is. There’s only one person it could be.

“That’s funny as hell in context, you know that?” Shit. Even to your own ears, you sound defensive. “Look,” you rush to add. “I picked this job to keep my Words to myself as much as possible, and I’ll keep doing that. I don’t want anything from you.”

You’re lying. You want a look at his arm like you want coffee in the morning, like you want air in your lungs after a brutal run. If he were anyone else you’d be planning a charm offensive, and you’re not what most people would describe as charming.

“One problem,” Barnes says, stepping out of the shadows with his flesh hand outstretched toward you. It’s so cinematic you forget he’s basically danger incarnate-- and then he makes contact.

Pleasure sizzles up from his grip on your wrist, skin to skin, soul to soul. It’s mind-numbing in the same way as the aftermath of an orgasm, so similar that you stumble a little bit when he lets go only seconds later. You’ve only read about Sensitivity or seen it depicted in movies, and neither did the full glory of it justice.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper. 

He doesn’t look affected at all. “Yeah. One hell of a weakness.” 

You go from shaken to pissed faster than the Quinjet hits cruise speed. “Get the fuck out, then! My workshop is invite only.”

“Is that right?” Barnes asks, insultingly unphased. Your arms are crossed, and he just glares right into your eyes and taps one perfectly articulated metal finger on the newly silver Words on your hand. “Stark’s AI updated our medical files. If you’re unconscious, this gets me into your hospital room. That’s invitation enough.”

Fucking great. “Well, either knock me out or fuck off, then, Barnes. I have work left to do.” Your gut is twisted metal right now, jagged and raw from disappointment and desperation. This man is a legend, a warrior with a marvel of machinery for an arm and a past that would make the devil blush. He doesn't want you, and he shouldn’t, he shouldn’t. With misery staining your heart black as old oil, you stalk over to the nearest workbench before he can tell how upset you are. 

“It’s not personal,” he says flatly.

Soulmate words are as personal as it gets, which means he’s saying it to fire you up. You won’t rise to the bait. Most people are uncomfortable with silence, but you use it as a weapon. The minutes tick by as you clean off the work table, with no other sound than the clink of metal on metal and the slide of heavy tools on the hard, solid surface. 

Soon, all that’s left is a bucket half full of sand. At least this is simple and easy to understand; a cheap, abundant material used for friction, stability, and sometimes even a mold to pour hot metal into. As you burn away your fury with your impossible soulmate staring silent holes into your back, you wonder whether you’re half as valuable to him as this.

“Look. I don’t want or need--”

You shove the bucket off the side of the work table and spin around, your next words practically exploding out of your chest. “You think I don’t know that? I get it. I’m nobody. Neither of us want--” He’s advancing on you and you hop up onto the surface of the workbench, primed to kick, scratch, and scream if he tries to melt your brain again with your goddamned soulmate connection. 

“Jesus. Just-- stay inside, will you?”

With those cryptic words, Bucky Barnes walks out.

You’re speechless, and the worst part is how much your body is craving the glorious, drugging feeling of his touch on your skin.

JARVIS calls out your name just as you force yourself to assess the sand mess you’ve tantrumed everywhere. Your ‘what?’ is as short and annoyed as you can make it.

I thought you ought to know that Sergeant Barnes spent his time after leaving the Quinjet checking on your safety. He requested I adjust the camera angle to more fully catch the doorway to your room, requested the visitor logs--

“Which you denied, yes? Yes?” you snap, gripping the broom handle like it’s your soulmate’s neck.

Of course. Despite his assertion, mutual consent is required for such things, barring a formal, legal relationship.

“For the record, it’s bullshit that it took until 1973 for that.”

I heartily agree. As I was saying, Sgt. Barnes took it upon himself to--

“Blah blah safety, you win the award for meddling, JARVIS, but what I really need from you is a magical ability to clean up this mess.”

Deepest apologies, but there is a purpose to this endeavor. The door to your suite did not meet Sgt. Barnes expectations, regarding your safety on-site.

“What the hell are you-- Wait.” You drop the broom and head out, speaking angrily up at the ceiling as you stalk down the hallway. “Tell me there’s still a door there, JARVIS.”

I’m afraid I cannot.

“Yeah, you should be afraid!” you hiss. “Tell me where he is or I’ll take a blowtorch to the wiring in the server room.”

Stark’s damned AI doesn’t even have the grace to sound concerned. 

I see why some say you have a fiery temper. Sgt. Barnes is in one of the basement sparring rooms. Shall I arrange for an elevator?

“I’ll walk, thanks.”

The bank of exercise rooms is open to everyone on campus, and the doors only close when there’s someone in there. That makes it easy to figure out where to knock.

The door swings open, and your mouth runs dry.

Barnes is sweaty, wearing only a black tank and tight pants, and the harsh hallway light glistens on the metal of his arm. You’re completely certain that touching it will feel just as good as the skin-to-skin contact earlier. You drift forward, captivated, and the door shuts behind you. The clicking sound brings you back to furious reality.

Through gritted teeth, you say, “You. Owe. Me. A. Door.”

He scoffs silently, looking you up and down as if gauging how little effort he’d have to expend against you in a fight. “Stark owes you a door. I just proved that.”

“What the fuck gives you the right--”

Barnes interrupts not with words, but with quick, jerky movements at his waist, unbuckling, unzipping, and shoving. He slaps the flat of his palm against the Words on his bare thigh and says, “This. Every single woman I came in contact with was in danger. You’re not secure here.” He strips the pants off completely and throws them into the corner of the room before advancing on you, somehow just as menacing in briefs and a tank. “Not until we get this out of our systems.”

He’s lithe as a cat, and you’re only able to stumble back a few inches and scrunch your eyes shut before he encircles your wrist with one hand. 

The cool metal is soothing despite being inexorable. You suck in a surprised breath and open your eyes just in time to watch the clever shit that is your soulmate dip his head to kiss you.

The pleasure is sudden and devastating. Your heart seizes up, stutters, and starts sending napalm through your veins as he walks you back against the wall and presses the full length of his body against yours. If each touch is a contact high, these kisses are full-throttle erotic warfare, with your brain offline and your hindbrain keening. You 'fight back' with everything you have, fingernails scratching at the back of his neck, teeth grazing his inner lip, all with your Words pulsing encouragement on the back of your hand.

If you’re not careful, this soulmate bond will acid-etch the narcotic joy of this moment right into your heart.

As if he can hear your thoughts, Barnes lets out a deep groan and pulls back to look you directly in the eyes. “This is a strategy, not a relationship.”

You’re touch-drunk, but you’re not in love. “Look, Deathsquad, I only want you for your arm.”

Barnes’ smile is like the sun coming up, damn him. “Fuck me enough to get past Sensitivity and I’ll let you have a whole afternoon with it.” As if to emphasize how much you’d both enjoy that plan, he slides his flesh hand past your waistband and grabs your ass, holding you steady for the twist of his hips.

Your smarts are offline, your lungs are at half capacity, your cunt is criminally empty, and you fully understand how people end up falling for stranger soulmates, if this is what Sensitivity does to a person. 

“Fine,” you snap, hoping to hell you sound less needy than you feel.

The two of you glare at each other for a charged second, and then there’s a race to strip the rest of your clothes off. Not even sixty whole seconds later you’re kneeling on a thick floor mat, more nervous and excited than you’ve ever been in your life, damn him. Barnes comes up behind to set a warm, drugging hand on your hip, and then it’s bliss, sexual rapture from the very first thrust.

“Fuck, that’s insane,” he rasps into your ear, his right hand coming down hard on the mat beside you as he curls over and into you. “Perfect,” Barnes breathes, the word almost a whine, like he’d tried to hold it back and couldn’t. 

You’re almost at white-out, already seconds away from the kind of orgasm that rearranges a girl’s blood chemistry, but you can’t let this one go. Arching your back and leaning to the side, you rock your hips in a cadence that unbalances the two of you just enough to force him to brace with his left, instead. You’re moaning insult-adjacent nonsense syllables now, but you gather enough willpower to clutch his metal hand with your marked one.

“Now it’s perfect,” you grit out.

Barnes’ sexy chuckle in your ear sends you into a black-out orgasm for the ages.

You wake up alone, which feels like a statement, but you notice when you roll over that you’re not sticky. The clothes you’d torn off and thrown in wild abandon are folded next to you, too. You scramble to put them on, stepping curiously into the shared adjoining bathroom to find a wet washcloth draped over the towel rack and a sticky note marked with a large B on the mirror.

“Don’t get sentimental on me, asshole,” you mutter as you snatch it off.

Crankshaft:  Don’t get sentimental on me.  Wednesday at 4? B

The words are printed, even the B, meaning that while you laid there naked and insensate, he’d gone and printed something out instead of just waking you up. On top of that outrage, someone’s told him your nickname, which for some stupid reason feels more intimate than anything that just happened. It’s something that’s just yours, not influenced by stupid-ass destiny genetics, and if he tries to use it verbally, you’ll… you’ll… You sigh. There’s not one thing you can do to influence this guy, except possibly make him angry that you exist at all.

One big Sensitivity-struck security risk, that’s what you are.

You’re about to crumple up the note when you see it’s got something else hand drawn on the back, a sequence of numbers and letters in a jagged sort of rectangle. The shape looks familiar, but you’re sated and stupid after however long without caffeine. You gather up your things and make the walk of shame back to your apartment, realizing when you’re almost there that the fucking door is probably still missing.

It’s not. There’s already a brand-new door there, and on it is another sticky note. This one’s just the hand drawn shape and accompanying symbols. You snatch it up and go inside, vindictively locking the door with both locks until you remember Barnes’ whole thing about safety.

With a sour feeling in your stomach from doing exactly what he’d want you to, you lay both notes down to examine the shapes, finally sketching them out on a third piece of paper.

The numbers and letters work out to be a room and floor number, probably for his rooms here at the compound

Combined, the shapes look just like the plating for his metal arm

You refuse to be taken in by this, even if it is right up your alley.

“JARVIS?”

At your service, Miss.

“Will you locate a small, neutral space for a… meeting between myself and Sgt. Barnes tomorrow at four, and let both of us know the location once you’re finished?” There’s no way in hell you’re doing anything that even hints at girlfriend behavior with this guy, so no bedrooms. What’s between you is literally just biology, nothing more.

If you insist.

“I do. And don’t use my nickname with him. He doesn’t deserve it.”

The singing in your veins makes a good opposing argument, but that’s just biology again, and you won’t be swayed by it. The only thing you’ll be swayed by is his marvel of arm engineering. Everything else is just window dressing to help get you through the absurd pleasure-bond shit that comes with soulmate biology.

You skip dinner and go to bed early, dreaming all night of the purr of Barnes’ muscles over and against you, the gravel-drag of his stubble on your skin, and the hum of an engine starting to rev.

to be continued...

[lives-in-midgard]

My Soulmate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: After years of not knowing your soulmate you finally find him.

Word Count: 1.232

A/N: Hey everyone! This has been in my drafts for a while now and this is my first time writing for a soulmate AU, so I hope you like it!

Masterlist

In the world you live, people believe in soulmates, not only do they believe in soulmates. They are real! Because when you are in the same room as your soulmate you get a tattoo with his or her initials on your wrist. Some people get them when they are 5 years, some when they are 13 years, some with 18 and then there is you who still hasn’t gotten yours. Every day you see people with their soulmate being happy and your friends ask you so often if you have one but you always have to shake your head and say no. After so many years of hoping that you’ll find yours, you started to think that maybe you don’t have one. Or maybe your soulmate lives in another country or died. Or maybe your soulmate wouldn’t like you? Everything is possible you thought. So many different scenarios were going through your head at some days. But what you didn’t know was that you’ll meet your soulmate very soon.

It started as a normal day. Before work you drove to your favorite coffee shop to pick up a coffee to go and drive to work. You walked in and ordered your coffee.

“Like always?” The friendly worker asked, and you nodded. While you waited for your coffee, you looked around and saw a few familiar faces but also two guys with caps and glasses on you haven’t seen before. You didn’t know why but they looked like they didn’t want to get recognized. You took a closer look at the blonde one and he kinda looked familiar, but you didn’t know why. Then you could see how the guy with the blonde hair showed the other one with brown hair something on his phone. Then you heard him laughing and wow he had a beautiful smile you thought.

“Your coffee is ready y/n.” You turned around and looked away from these two handsome men.

“Thank you.” You said with a smile and turned around. When you walked out you walked past the men, and the brown haired one smiled at you. You smiled back and said “Hi” to him. Then you walked out to your car. In your car you took a sip from your coffee and then started to drive away. While driving you somehow looked at your wrist and saw three initials on it.

“Oh my god.” You said to yourself and looked back at the street again. Then you looked for a parking lot and saw one near you. After you parked the car, you took a closer look of your tattoo.

J.B.B.

Who could that be? How long do you have it? It must have happened when you were in the coffee shop, right? But there were only people who were there often and who you knew. Wait! You took a deep breath. There were two guys that you saw for the first time. It had to be one of those guys! But who? And what is his name?

You couldn’t believe that you just really found your soulmate! But how can you see him again? Will you even ever see him again?

Your mind started to go crazy with so many questions going through your head. When you suddenly realized why you where there. You were about to drive to work. You looked at your clock and saw that you only have a few minutes left. You looked at the tattoo for the last time. And when you ran your finger over the initials a smile escaped you.

“J.B.B.” You whispered to yourself and smiled.

Your best friend from work immediately knew that something happened when she saw your smile. You showed her your wrist and told her that you think that it must be one of those guys you saw. She said that she will try to help you find him, but you only knew how he looked like and his initials. It’s nearly impossible to find him. But your friend assured you that you will find him.

The same time you found your tattoo was also the same time Bucky discovered his. He couldn’t believe what he saw. He thought he didn’t have one, especially after Hydra. Or that you lived back in the 40s and he couldn’t meet you because of what had happened. Bucky showed it to Steve, and he got so excited for his best friend because he knew how Bucky was feeling about it. For Bucky it was even harder to guess who you could be because he never went to that coffee shop before, and it could be anyone there. But somehow Bucky always had to think of you. He only saw you for a few seconds, but he remembered you with your beautiful smile and the shy little “hi” you said to him. Bucky went back to that coffee shop almost every day in the hope to find you there. You two always missed each other sometimes only for a few minutes. But Bucky didn’t give up.

Days and even weeks passed, and you didn’t see your soulmate again. But you didn’t lose hope that you will find him again. You walked into the coffee shop like almost every day and ordered your coffee. Then you went back to your car, you wanted to drive home after that hard day at work. You were about to open the car door when suddenly someone behind you shouted.

“Hey, I think you dropped something.” You heard and turned around. You couldn’t believe who you saw, it was the brown haired one, you saw weeks ago. The one who could be your soulmate. He was holding your bracelet in his hand.

“Oh, yes that’s mine. Thank you so much.” You said while he walked over to you.

“No problem.” He said and smiled at you.

“Oh, hey it’s you.” Bucky said with excitement when he got near you.

“You remember me?”

“Of course, I do. How could I forget that beautiful smile.” Bucky said and made you blush.

“Oh, your bracelet.” Bucky held out your bracelet.

“Would you put it on me, please.”

“Sure.” When Bucky put it on your wrist you noticed that his left arm was of a black metal. You didn’t have much time to think about that because then he started to introduce himself.

“I’m Bucky Barnes.” Wait? Bucky Barnes? You must have heard of him before.

“Do…you maybe have a second name too?” You nervously asked and he looked kinda confused why you wanted to know that.

“I have, but why-” Bucky got nervous, so you decided to tell him why.

“Because my name is Y/n l/n.” You said and then showed Bucky the tattoo on your wrist. He looked at the tattoo and then back to you. Then Bucky turned his right arm to you, and you saw your name on it.

“You are …. We are.” Bucky started to say.

“Soulmates.” You both said at the same time and chuckled. Then Bucky moved closer to you and tucked a hair behind your ear.

“I know this might be too soon, but you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.” Bucky said and looked into your eyes to see if you want that kiss too. You smiled at him and made the last step that was between the two of you.

[buckrecs]

Hello! You are doing the lords work here on this blog🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 do you have any soulmate au recs? I know some people don’t like them so no problem if not and sorry if you’ve been asked before!

Soulmate AU

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

the knowing by @noctumbra

ten days later, james barnes got a call from the police.

for your love by @noctumbra

they were very young; a little shy from being fourteen at that time, but both of them knew they were it. soulmates.

The Owl and the Wolf by @waiting4inspiration

In a world where a person can their soulmate’s spirit animal speaking like a human, Bucky hears your owl’s voice one day.

Snowflakes by @all1e23

Steve drags Bucky to a Christmas festival to take his mind off the fact that he has yet to meet his soulmate.

Colors in the Dark | 2 by @buckychristwrites

The world is without color, and that’s never bothered the Winter Soldier. The Fist of HYDRA didn’t have time for love and soulmates. At almost a century old, what are the odds that his soulmate was even still living?

Say That Again by @justsomebucky

Everyone hears a key word or phrase in their head from their soulmate, something only heard in person when the moment is right.

Teddy Bear by @softlyspector

in which when one soulmate loses something, their other half finds it.

Winter Sun by @softlyspector

When you and Bucky are kidnapped, you find out just how far you would go to keep each other safe.

Assassination to Soulmates by @bxcketbarnes

See the World the Way You Do by @vanderlustwords

You start to see colour when you meet your soulmate. Bucky thinks that soulmates are a one of a kind thing—you get one and that's it. His world used to be colourful once and then he lost that. He's resigned to see black and white for the rest of his life...until flashes of colours would appear from the corner of his eye. And it seemed to happen more and more as Bucky spends time with you.

Stay Still | Please, don’t by @buckysknifecollection

What if your soulmate was the one person you had hurt the most?

Enchanted by @natasharomanovf

The reader is in a loveless relationship when she meets her true soulmate, Bucky.

what’s in a name? by @ciarawritesmarvel

When you love someone, their name appears on your shoulder. If it’s in blue, it’s unrequited. If it’s in red, it’s requited. The name turns black when your love dies. 

SERIES

Who I Was Looking For by @soopranatural

Even after you started wearing cuffs, the words are engraved in your mind as well as your wrist. You know you’re not destined for love as soon as you learn how to read. How could you? When the words “Sorry, you’re not who I was looking for” are written in black ink on your skin.

The Only Exception by @whitestarbucky

Humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves. A lesson that taunted Bucky Barnes his whole life. Perhaps it was why he refused to believe in it. He couldn’t afford to. Then you came into his life to challenge his fears to their deepest degrees, not once, but twice. Whether he liked it or not.

A Moment Of Your Time by @stevesbestgirl

A soulmate AU where the headstrong reader realizes that she’s meant to love the brutal mob boss of New York City, James Buchanan Barnes. She doesn’t want to be a part of organized crime and she doesn’t want to rely on anyone, but how do you ignore your soulmate? 

Scars by @tokoyamisstuff

whatever you write on your skin, it appears on your Soulmate’s.

Flowers Bloom by @revengingbarnes

Whenever someone is injured, flowers bloom on their soulmate at the area of the wound. She is born with flowers around her entire left shoulder.

Heartbeat by @after-avenging-hours

Where your heartbeat matches the beat of your soulmate’s; they speed up together, slow down together, skip at the same time, but that means they also stop together...  

The Color of Blood by @theidiotwhowritesthings

In this world, a person didn’t discover color until they locked eyes with their soulmate. As an agent of SHIELD, finding your soulmate was hardly a priority. Especially since you were currently dealing with the shocking discovery that HYDRA had been pulling the strings behind SHIELD actions this entire time. Life was all about timing, and you were about to find out that your timing was absolute shit.

My night demons by @themorningsunshine

In which one can see their soulmate's dreams and communicate with them through those dreams.

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[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Worth The Wait"

Rated: Mature

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x reader

Tags: soulmate au, Dom/sub au, age difference (26/34), sub reader, soft!dom Steve, bossy!dom Bucky, soulmarks, angst/comfort, stalking, grinding, virginity kink

Summary: When you find out what the two of them have been hiding from you all these years - and more importantly, what they've been depriving you of - you don't react well. You may be a submissive and they may be two Doms with whom your relationship runs deep, but you just cannot with these two idiots. Not this time.

"Please just wait a second. You're overreacting! Come on, Doll, won'tcha just let us expl-"

You whirl around at the nickname, furious. "No!" You reach up to smack away the hand that was reaching for you—Bucky's hand. He looks so hurt by it, and you grit your teeth, mad at him for his audacity to act hurt over this. "Don't call me that," you grit out, face red from how high your blood pressure currently is (and the crying, though you're doing your best to push that back until you can get away from them).

"Sweetie—"

"No! I said shut up!" You glare daggers at him. "You don't get to call me that anymore."

"Honey ..."

"And neither do you!" you snap, turning the daggers on Steve. You point at him, then Bucky, jabbing each of them once in their chests with your finger. "I'm not your 'Honey', I'm not your 'Sweetie'. I'm the girl whose life you've ruined for the past twelve years, and you don't get to act like you care about me now!"

Bucky sighs like you're being unreasonable, and that pisses you off even more than him acting hurt over it had. "Doll, come on. It's not that big of a—"

"God! Just stop!" You turn back to your apartment door and shakily get your keys out and fit the right one to the lock, your angry tears about to burst out of you from frustration when you fumble a few times before getting it open. You feel the heat of the two of them at your back and you push the door inward and take a step in, then turn back around to face them—they're closer, right at the threshold. "Get back," you say tersely, body tensing up at the threat that they might follow you in. You can't take that right now. You need to be alone. You have to process this.

"Come on, Peach. Just let us explain, please. Let's talk about this."

Goddamn him. It's like he's trying to use up his whole repertoire of pet names just to spite you. "There's nothing to talk about!" You grab the edge of the door and push it to slam it shut in their faces, but Bucky's metal hand comes up and stops it from closing completely.

His expression is harder now, his voice lower as he gives you a stern look. "Don't shut us out, Peach."

You huff, sick and tired of his superior attitude. Normally, you like the way he coddles you, talks down to you, calls you pet names—it makes you feel special and warm—but not today. Today you just found out that Stucky (as you refer to the pair of them) are your soulmates—both of them. That's rare but not unheard of. They're both Doms, after all, so it only figured that one or both of them was eventually going to get the tingle for some sub, somewhere, someday. And now you know it's you.

That's not what you're mad about, though. Your stomach had dropped right out when Bucky admitted that he and Steve have known about this for twelve years. Twelve fucking years! And then Steve had the nerve to tell you that they've been tag teaming as "chaperones" (read: stalkers) for the entirety of your dating life—ever since you were fourteen and started going out with Jimmy Bollinger in the ninth grade.

You get sicker the more you think about it: all those fumbled relationships, all those boys (and later, men) who seemed to like you so much, and then who suddenly lost interest; all those times when a Bumble match would stand you up, or when a few kisses and seemingly fantastic dates led to a sudden ghosting. Now you know why. Steve and Bucky have been "handling" (read: intimidating) them out of your sphere for over an entire decade!

You can't even begin to process the betrayal you feel, how confused and upset this makes you. You feel like your best friends have just played the cruelest trick ever, and you can't let them come into your apartment now because you know if you do, they'll just Dom (read: bully) the upset out of you and that is not what you want. It's not what you need. You need to cry and vent and rage. You need to call Wanda over and drink more vodka than Stucky would ever allow you to. So no, you can't let them in.

You sneer at Bucky's hand on the door and his superior expression. "Take your fucking hand off my fucking door, right fucking now, Barnes," you warn, absolutely fed up with him and totally showing it on your stone cold face.

For a second, his eyes narrow and he looks like he'll fight you on it. But Steve puts a hand on his shoulder and says quietly, "Babe," addressing Bucky as his husband. You clench your teeth and glare Bucky down. His features pinch as if it's physically painful for him to respect your wishes, but he does pull back—which, unbeknownst to him, saves him from a swift punch to the face. He opens his mouth like he'll say something else, continue arguing that you shouldn't be upset at them, but before he can, you slam the door shut in their faces, rapidly locking it and throwing the deadbolt once it's closed.

You stand there, immediately breaking into the tears you were trying so desperately to hold back in front of them, both palms flat on the door and then your forehead resting between them as all the anger inside you suddenly collapses into sorrow.

How could they do this to you?!

You hear them talking from the other side of the door, though it's muffled. They sound frustrated, talking to each other, arguing back and forth in low, hissed voices. You can't make all of their words out, but you do hear Steve scolding Bucky for his aggressiveness, and then Bucky sniping back about Steve being too soft.

"Now she'll never come outta there," he complains to Steve. "She needs us! We need to talk to her, hold her! We need to explain—"

"—You think I don't know that?! Think I don't want her in my arms just as bad as you do?!"

You scoff at the back and forth of their arguing and pull away from the door, not wanting to hear it. You stomp back to your bedroom and slam the door shut, hard, hoping they hear it from out in the hall. You toss your purse on the bed, then yourself. You let yourself break down completely and just sob into your pillow for a while; hot, angry, devastated tears wetting the pillowcase and making you snotty and miserable as you think about the joke they've made of you all these years.

Every single time, you think, horrified as the realization sinks deeper and deeper with the more memories you drag up and examine. From Jimmy in ninth grade, from high school crushes and a ruined prom night, through all your college boyfriends and after-college boyfriends, all the way up to your third date/breakup with Derrick today: All of it has been because of them.

You'd thought there was something wrong with you; that you were a bad kisser, or not that pretty, not thin enough or not toned enough, not smart or interesting enough. You'd angsted over whether maybe you talked too much about heavy topics on first dates, or didn't give off a heavy enough sub vibe—or too much of a sub vibe. All these years trying so desperately to improve yourself, to make yourself lovable, and it turns out that Steve and Bucky were chasing away any chance you had at love in the first place.

You break down for a while in your room, crying and fuming and crying some more, utterly devastated at their betrayal. Eventually the tears run out, and instead you just get really, really angry.

The audacity of them! You remember the scene from earlier, when you'd bumped into them outside the restaurant where Derrick had cautiously told you that he "wasn't ready for a relationship," and that "it was him, not you." You'd left, managing not to cry despite how dejected you'd felt, so sure that it was you (again), and found Bucky and Steve standing there, looking like they'd been waiting for it to happen.

Steve had looked nervous, Bucky less so. He'd been the one to comfort you as you all walked back towards the building you shared. He'd told you that the guy didn't deserve you anyway, that you were too good for him—all the usual platitudes that did only a little to heal the hurt of another rejection. You hadn't thought much of how they'd just been there outside the restaurant, chalking it up to coincidence at first.

God, you felt so stupid now! All these years and you've never seen it. You lay there in your bed and replay that evening in your mind, going back to the moment it'd happened:

"Just tell her," Steve says, once you've reached the stoop in front of your building.

"Tell me what?"

Bucky takes a deep breath and puts both hands on your shoulders as he looks in your eyes and gently confesses, "It's us, Doll. We're the reason why none of your relationships have really worked out." He glances over at Steve, and the two of them share a knowing look, before he turns back to you and the both of them stare you down. "We've been waiting for you."

You get a sinking sense of dread right away, even though you don't understand what he means. "What?" You lift your hands to cover his on your shoulders, intending to push them off, but he only curls his fingers more firmly there. "What are you saying?"

"We're your soulmates, Honey," Steve says, while Bucky nods. "We have been for ... well ... since you were fourteen." He kind of winces when he says it, and you gape for a full five seconds before you manage to squeak,

"What?!"

Bucky leads you over to the bench that sits in front of your building, urging you down to sit between them. Their big bodies crowd you in from either side, pressing up against you, but for the first time in your life, it doesn't feel like safety. "No," you whimper, looking back and forth between them to try and see that this is just a mean joke. "You don't ... you aren't ..." Steve nods seriously, and you feel your breath leave you. "You can't be. I mean, not all this time? You knew? And you didn't ... you knew you were my ..."

"Yeah, your soulmates, Honey." Steve puts his hand on top of your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze that you suppose is meant to be comforting. "It's a good thing, yeah?"

You shudder, humiliated. "How could you?"

They share a confused look, mistaking your meaning and each of them answering simultaneously:

"We have your Words."

"We felt it happen."

You scoff. "I mean: how could you do this to me?!"

They both look shocked that you're so upset about it. They hold you still to keep you sitting on the bench between them when you try to get up. "Hold on, Doll. Let us explain."

"Explain? Explain?!"

"We were just protecting you, Hon, until you got a little older, until you were ready." Steve is so coaxing, so sweet like he always is, and Bucky hums and pets your arm as he acknowledges that what Steve is saying is the truth.

“But we watched out for you.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“We had to look after you,” Steve explains, like it’s common sense. “Couldn’t let any of those guys get serious with you, you know?”

“... Oh my god,” you whisper. Neither one of them seems to pick up on the horror that's dawning on you, as you realize the full scope of the situation. "Since I was ... f-fourteen?" you say, beginning to hyperventilate, thinking of all the not-quite-boyfriends of so many years, the canceled dates, the ghosted texts, the "I'm not ready for this" excuses.

You're ... you're still a virgin because of these two!

New strength enters your body and you surge to your feet, breaking through their hold on you. You turn to them with angry tears already building up behind your eyes. This is unbelievable! How could they do this to you? "How?!" you demand, voice wavering with emotion. "Show me."

They each pull down on the necklines of their tee shirts, stretching the fabric to reveal the top swells of their left pecs. And there, just underneath their left collarbones, are the matching marks:

You guys are complete idiots, you do realize this?

The Words on their skin are in that odd shade of muted red that everyone's Words are in—like an old scar that never quite healed—and you stare, unable to breathe for a couple of seconds. You must've called them "idiots" and "dumbasses" a thousand times over the years, but the second you see their marks, you somehow know the exact instance when you'd said those words; the memory of the encounter playing out in your mind as clear as if it were right there in front of you on a tv screen.

You flounder for a bit as you try to make sense of it, to somehow make what they're telling you less awful. "So you've ... you've just been ruining my dates for ... for ten years?!"

Neither of them look prepared for this reaction from you. "Well ... twelve," Steve grimaces. "But it was 'cause we knew—"

"Because you knew and didn't tell me! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"Sweetie, just calm down for a sec. This is good news. We were trying to protect you."

You turn all your anger on Bucky at that point, incensed. "Protect me?!"

You don't miss the way that his eyes harden, how he squares his jaw and gives you a firm, "Yes. To protect you." You scoff, and he leans forward and grabs your wrist and tugs you back to the bench, but you land ungracefully in his lap and he wraps his arms around your middle so that you can't escape, your back pressed tightly to his chest.

"Let me go!"

"No. You're going to sit still like a good girl and hear us out," he says, using his Dominant tone, and you freeze at hearing it. Bucky and Steve never intone with you. They're your friends. They're respectful. Sure, there's always been a small degree of sexual tension present between you, but they're married, they're Stucky, and they've always been platonic with you. Always! Bucky's breath hits warm against your scalp and the shell of your ear as he tries to calm you down. "You were too young at fourteen, Doll," he says, still speaking sternly but also compassionately. "Can't you understand that?"

Steve nods along in agreement. "You weren't ready to be tied down to someone. You weren't ready to be Dommed, and you sure as hell weren't ready for intimacy of any kind."

"Intimacy?" you sneer, struggling and failing against the strength of Bucky's arms. "Like I'd have any clue what that is, huh? I'm twenty-six goddamn years old and I've never gotten past second base! I thought there was something wrong with me. And now I find out, after all these years of angsting, that it's because you two have been cock blocking me?!"

"Calm down," Bucky growls in your ear—another Dominant order, just as Steve says,

"Sweetheart, please ..."

To your great shame, you have a physical reaction to Bucky's hold on you: his strong arms restraining you and his scruff brushing against your neck and his Dominant tone seeping into your brain—and Steve's coaxing entreaties coming from the side don't help. It's not under your control, how your clit pulses and your panties get a little wet spot from all that stimulation. You are a submissive, after all, and this is Bucky doing this to you. How many times have you thought about it? How many nights spent lying in bed have you brought him to mind, or him and Steve to mind, as you've slipped a hand down your belly and—

No, you think, shutting those thoughts off in anger. You're not going to go soft for them now. They can't get away with this.

You've been crying at this point, a few tears escaping down your cheeks like firebrands, only increasing your humiliation. And of course Steve coos and leans in to wipe them away. "Hey, heey, Honey. It's okay. We're here now."

You jerk away from him like his hands are poison and you hiss, "Don't touch me."

Steve's hand falls away, his face so full of concern. "Honey ..." he laments.

"No. Don't call me that. Don't touch me." You squirm hard in Bucky's arms again, and when he doesn't let you go you huff and turn to Steve. "Make him let me go. Now."

Your gaze must be murderous, because after a brief hesitation, Steve reluctantly convinces Bucky to let go of you. You immediately get to your feet and storm off, hurrying into the apartment building and towards the elevator, the two men following at your back. "Leave me alone!"

They catch up to you at the elevator before the doors can fully shut, Bucky glaring and Steve wincing as they block the doors and force their way inside. "Please," Steve says, begging you to understand. "It was for your own good."

Wrong thing to say. You go to jab the button for your floor and cross your arms, keeping yourself away from them—and well out of Bucky's reach. Bucky pushes the button for his and Steve's floor, too (it's just below yours), and then swipes his hand over the buttons for every other floor. You hiss and whirl around. "Christ. Real mature, Bucky."

"We need the time to talk."

"You could have told me!"

"We wanted you to have your freedom, Hon," Steve pleads. His kind tone only makes you angrier.

"Freedom?! How is that freedom? Freedom to do what? to spend years trying to find a connection with someone and fail? to figure that it must be me; that I'm, I dunno, overestimating myself? to convince myself I'm a seven and then decide that I must really only be, like, a solid four 'cause no one wants me?"

"The fuck?" Bucky growls and steps forward. "You're gorgeous." But he says it like a chastisement instead of a compliment, and you're far too angry to take any compliments from him, anyway.

"Fuck you!"

"Is that what you would've preferred?" he says darkly. "Hm? Because we were twenty-four back then, already out of college. And you were fourteen fucking years old, Sweetheart." You blush and avert your eyes, and Bucky nods, vindicated. "You really think two grown-ass men were gonna come busting in when you were still practically a kid? Take advantage of you in your prissy little ballerina bedroom? Hm? Pop your cherry on that sweet lacy duvet?"

"Buck," Steve complains.

It's a mean assessment, but it's accurate, and you suddenly hate that Bucky knows what your childhood bedroom back at your parents' apartment looks like. "No," you answer him tightly. "But you should've told me, not stalked me for twelve fucking years to make sure I never get laid!" You're still blushing as you say the words, but Steve looks a little ashamed, so you're glad you did.

At their floor, they try to coax you out into the hallway to go home with them like you've done so many times in the past, but you stay in the elevator and jab at the close door button, trying to shut them out. No such luck.

"Where do you think you're going?" Bucky asks as he steps back on, Steve right behind. You back up until you hit the elevator's wall, nowhere to go. Bucky crowds you in while Steve stands beside you. They both look a little less apologetic now and a little more ... well, dominant.

"Home," you say, meaning for the word come out assertive. Instead it comes out timid and you nearly cringe at yourself. "M'going home. Alone."

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Oh is that so?" The way he says it is dark and dangerous and smooth as satin. It makes your pulse quicken—but not in fear.

"Bucky," you breathe, trying to move to get around him, but they both block you in. "Ugh! Let me go."

They don't allow it. Bucky shoves his knee forward, forcing your legs to part. You gasp and he moves closer, pressing, holding you in place with his thick thigh wedged up against your clothed cunt. He rests his weight through his hand against the wall, right next to your head. Then, holding eye contact and with his lips parted, expression intent, he grinds his thigh forward.

You make an embarrassing 'yip' of a sound, and his eyes darken. You've never seen him look like that—not at you. It makes something nervous and desperate begin to gather in your belly. "Stop," you say, trying so hard to make your voice firm. You push against his chest, mad that he's using his dominance to bring out your submission. You've never subbed for Bucky or Steve—or anyone, really. At least nobody you care about. Since you've been unable to gain a sexual partner all these years, you've always used the services provided by Pro Doms - their platonic services, because no way in hell were you ever going to sign up to lose your virginity in a glorified medical clinic.

"Just relax for me," Bucky intones, nearly purring the words down at you. "Let us take you home and talk this out, huh?"

You whine at the increasing tug in your belly, embarrassed. "Don't–don't do that," you stammer, turning your head away from him. "S'not fair."

Bucky hums, pleased, but Steve clears his throat and then you hear him murmuring, "Buck, let her go. You can't force this. It isn't right."

You breathe a sigh of relief when Bucky pulls back from you, removing the pressure from between your legs. You have to fight the urge to put your hand down there, or to try and rub your thighs together. His big thigh pushed up between your legs had felt so good, and now it's gone.

"You liked that," Bucky says smugly, eyes gleaming. "Admit it. That made you wet just now, didn't it?"

You're scowling as Steve is once again chastising his husband for his crude comments. "Buck! Come on, man."

"Like I'd ever get turned on by you," you snap, hands balled into fists so you don't try to hit him again. "You're like my brother. Gross!"

It's not true. Not even a little bit. But you can tell that it gets under Bucky's skin, that it bothers him, so you sneer at him all the more and jab the button for your floor. The elevator moves up. Bucky's not intoning anymore, so that tugging in your belly fades away and your anger resurfaces, only this time it's even worse. You scowl at him and step forward, shoving him in the chest with your full might.

He barely moves, and when you shove him again and again, he only moves back by a small step, keeping his balance and leering at you because it's obvious how weak you are and how strong he is—and he knows that as a sub, you can't help but like that.

"Ugh!" You're ready to cry again, so mad and so humiliated by what they've done to you. "I hate you!"

"Don't say that, Honey," Steve mourns, still so fucking kind that you can hardly stand him any better than Bucky.

"Fuck you too, Steven," you snap, groaning in relief when the elevator finally 'dings' at your floor and the doors open. You step out and hurry down the hall towards your apartment, knowing that they're following you.

Which leads us all the way back to you, crying and fuming in your bedroom; and Bucky and Steve, ostensibly locked out in the hallway. You have no idea how long they loiter out there, but you're too afraid to open the door and check. You turn on your tv for background noise and make tea, checking the peep hole occasionally, but you can’t hear them talking anymore. If they are out there, they're making sure to stay out of eyeshot.

You huff at your own paranoia when you pull back from the most recent peephole check. You don't need to be doing this. You've already spent forty minutes crying, over an hour fuming, and another hour cry-fuming less vigorously over a few cups of tea. It's time to call for reinforcements.

"Wanda? Hey. I need you to come over for a girls' night."

Wanda, ever perceptive, can hear your clogged sinuses through the phone. She asks.

You sniffle and admit, "No, it's not good. Bring Nat if she's free. And plenty of Vodka."

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup!

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

The Color of Blood [4]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, situational almost non-con kissing? (it’s not too bad, I swear, but I don’t wanna catch anyone off guard), cursing, mentions of PTSD/flashbacks/nightmares

Word Count: 3,976

Summary: In this world, a person didn’t discover color until they locked eyes with their soulmate. As an agent of SHIELD, finding your soulmate was hardly a priority. Especially since you were currently dealing with the shocking discovery that HYDRA had been pulling the strings behind SHIELD actions this entire time. Life was all about timing, and you were about to find out that your timing was absolute shit.

Bucky stood stiff beside you. Over the last few days, the two of you had floated around, out of sight, but hadn’t left DC yet. There was something you wanted him to see first. He wore some clothes you had gotten for him, a baseball cap over his clean hair, and his face was drawn in solemn concentration.

“I’m gonna wait here.” You whispered. Bucky turned and gave you a curious look and you just shrugged. “This is something you have to do alone, I think, but I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Bucky stared at you for another beat before walking away from you into the exhibit. The ‘Captain America and the Howling Commandos’ display wasn’t as crowded today as it had been the day you came with Steve. You turned and found a bench to sit on.

The last few days had been… unusual. Looking from the outside it was probably awkward. Bucky had said less than ten words to you since the two of you left that used to be bank. He stayed though. Bucky hadn’t run from you, and despite the lack of communication, you felt comfortable. Being around him, despite barely knowing him, was just nice. You were on the run with a man who people either thought were dead or a criminal, but you felt at peace for the first time…well…ever.

You rested your elbows on your knees and kept your face down in hopes that your own hat shielded your face from view. The burner phone in your coat pocket began to go off so you quickly pulled it out and answered. It was a quick phone call, only minutes long, but it was good news. One of your sources had gotten you in touch with a guy that could get you and Bucky out of the country without being seen. Granted that meant the two of you would be riding in a sketchy cargo plane leaving an abandoned airfield at around 1:30 in the morning, but beggars couldn’t be picky.

More time passed, nearly pushing onto an hour and a half, and you briefly wondered if he would come back. This would be the perfect opportunity for Bucky to slip away if he really wanted to and you couldn’t blame him. You couldn’t imagine what he was mentally going through right now and as much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t even know where to begin to help. You figured getting out of sight was a good first step, but you were winging this entirely.

You sighed and buried your face into your hands. What if you couldn’t help him? What if you made this worse somehow? What kind of soulmate would that make you? You rubbed your hands against your face and then moved them to the back of your neck. Familiar shoes stepped into your line of vision and you glanced up just as Bucky knelt down in front of you. You hadn’t even heard him walk up.  

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked softly, his voice low.

You gave him a tight smile, “Yeah. How are you? How was…”

Bucky glanced down at his feet briefly before looking back up to meet your gaze. The corner of his lips twitched up just a bit. It was the closest thing you had seen to a smile on him, but you could hardly even consider it that with the pain that was still in his eyes. He nodded once, “Thank you for this. I…”

“You’re welcome.” You replied. He didn’t need to say anything more than that. Bucky stood up and he hesitated for a moment before holding his hand out to you. You took it and he pulled you up from your seat before shoving his hands into his coat pocket. “I got us a ride out of the country.” Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise. “How do you feel about Romania?”

4 MONTHS AFTER THE FALL OF SHIELD

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” You mumbled under your breath as you tried to salvage the chicken that was burning in the pan. You had only looked away for a second and the damn thing chose that moment to start turning black. It was ridiculous. All the skills you had as an agent did not translate over into the domestic world. You beat the Black Widow in sparring once, only once, and yet you couldn’t cook a chicken without fucking it up.

Bucky was suddenly beside you, you never heard him coming, but he carefully took the spatula from you and went to work in fixing what you had messed up. The two of you were living the weirdest domestic life that probably ever existed. You shared a tiny apartment in the middle of a busy Romanian city. It was only one large room with a bathroom that branched off it. A bed sat in the corner that you slept on and a couch sat in the middle of the room, a little way in front of the kitchen island counter, that Bucky slept on. You fought him tooth and nail to trade, since he was so much larger, but the man wouldn’t have it.

The two of you had fallen into a familiar, cozy habit. You worked at a small café nearby with a fake name to earn money and Bucky did odd jobs that he ran into around the apartment complex. He mostly stayed out of sight for now. It was better that way.

Despite four months together, Bucky still didn’t say much. He’d hold a soft conversation with you now and again, but he kept mostly to himself. He’d read books you picked up from him on the way home and he’d write in a few notebooks he kept. You weren’t entirely sure what he wrote all the time, but it didn’t seem like your place to be nosy about it.

You found comfort in all that silence though. Bucky didn’t talk much, but he did little things that warmed your heart. He’d make your coffee just like you liked it in the morning without saying a word and sometimes when you’d wake up from a nap you’d find a blanket spread over you despite not placing it there when you passed out. You had a bit of a sweet tooth, but it didn’t feel right spending your limited money on any sort of sweets. Yet, sometimes you’d come home from work and your favorite candy or pastry would be on the counter waiting for you.

“How did you manage to fix this mess?” You asked with a chuckle. The edges of the chicken were still burned because of you, but Bucky had managed to save the rest.

Bucky gave you a small smile, “It’s easy. You just make cooking a lot harder than it should.”

Your lips curled up into a wide grin at his teasing. Bucky diverted his eyes away from you and focused back on the pan. The urge to bump your shoulder into his playfully came to mind, but you resisted. He still wasn’t much of a fan of any sort of contact, understandably. The only times he sought out any sort of touch was after one of his nightmares, which he still had regularly much to your dismay, and you never hesitated to wrap your arms around him and give him any sort of comfort he needed.

7 MONTHS AFTER THE FALL OF SHIELD

It was the middle of the night and at first you weren’t entirely sure what had roused you from your sleep. Your eyes fluttered wearily, and it took a second for your eyes to adjust to the dark. There was a weight on the mattress beside you and when you turned your head you came face to face with Bucky. You took in a sharp breath as your eyes traced his features. Not Bucky. The Soldier.

This wasn’t the first time you had woken up to what HYDRA had created. Sometimes Bucky would have a terrible nightmare and instead of waking up himself the Soldier would slip through the cracks. As startling as it was though, the Soldier had never hurt you.  

He was lying on his right side, and slowly lifted his left hand up to your face. That was one strange thing you noticed. Bucky tended to shy away from physical touch still, but anytime he did reach out to you he always used his right hand. His flesh and blood. Anytime the Soldier came out to play though, he would only touch you with the metal one.

The Soldier traced his metal fingers across your eyebrow then around the curve of your eye down to the cheekbone beneath it. He lightly grazed the skin there before letting his fingers trail down the bridge of your nose until they found your lips. The Soldier’s cold fingers traced your lips and you stayed as still as possible as you let him. He never seemed to mean you harm and he never went too far. It seemed like he just liked to trace your features, like a man memorizing a lover’s face, while mumbling in Russian.

You couldn’t help but gasp a little when his cold finger brushed against your neck. They followed the curve down to your shoulder and slipped under the edge of your shirt just a bit so he could feel your collarbones. It was all normal. Actually, normal might not be the right word. You didn’t think anything about this was normal. It was the usual though. Nothing out of the ordinary and you actually found your eyes drifting closed at the feather light touches.

The Soldier shifted beside you, but you didn’t think anything of it until the metal hand cupped around your neck. Your eyes snapped open, panicked, but the Soldier’s face just hovered over yours as he half leaned on top of you. It was easy to differentiate between the Soldier and your soulmate. As time had passed you mentally separated the two and drew a line in the sand. The face hovering over yours with cold eyes and tightly drawn lips was not your Bucky. It was not the man whose lips would curl up into a small smile anytime you walked into the room. It wasn’t the man whose soft, stormy eyes made you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. Like you were something special.

Your thoughts were interrupted when the Solider leaned down. You whipped your head to the side, his lips landing on the side of your face, and his hands tightened around your neck in response to try and straighten your head.

“Bucky!” You yelled. The moment the name fell from your lips the body half on top of yours leaped off. You sat up and your eyes landed on Bucky who was pressed against the wall opposite from you, his chest heaving like he had run a marathon. It was Bucky though. It was your Bucky. You recognized those eyes, “Buck—”

Bucky’s eyes snapped to meet yours, but before you could say another word he sprinted out the front door. You fell out of bed, tangled in your own blankets, then tried to run after him. By time you got to the stairs though he was far out of sight. Panic flooded your system. You stumbled back to your apartment and sat down at the kitchen island at one of the two bar stools you had.

You had known the Soldier wouldn’t have hurt you. Something in you was convinced that if you had told him to stop he would’ve immediately.  You had just panicked though. The first time you’d kiss those lips you wanted it to be Bucky. It’d be a lie to say you hadn’t thought of it before, but you’d wait until he was ready. Even if that took years and years and years.

What if he didn’t come back?

That thought plagued you for hours until you passed out on the counter.

Morning light filled the room around you and when you slowly woke up you realized you were lying back on your bed rather than the kitchen island. Your blanket was tucked around you, a good sign, but Bucky was nowhere to be seen in the room and you didn’t hear the bathroom fan running. Worry ran through your veins as you sat up, but before you could start to form some kind of plan the front door opened.

Bucky stepped inside, baseball cap pulled tight over his dark hair, and he stopped at the sight of you staring at him. In one hand he had a box of pastries from your favorite bakery down the street and in the other he had a bouquet of flowers. He swallowed nervously, using his foot to close the door behind him. You stood up as he walked over to the counter and set the items he had on the tile top.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky breathed. “I’m so sorry. I thought about leaving. Thought it’d be better, but…” He clenched his jaw and glanced down at his feet with a shake of his head before looking back up at you, “I couldn’t. I’m so sorry.”

You crossed the room, stopping in front of him, and pressed your lips together, “Can I—Can I hug you?”

Bucky opened his mouth just to shut it again then he nodded. That was all you needed. You closed the space between the two of you and threw your arms around him as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. It took a moment, but you slowly felt him wrap his arms around you as well.

“It’s okay.” You whispered. “I’m not scared of you. You’d never hurt me, Bucky.”

His arms tightened around you just a little bit more.

14 MONTHS AFTER THE FALL OF SHIELD

It had been a normal day. You had gotten home from work in a good mood, dinner had been made and eaten. After a year together, the two of you had settled like some sort of old married couple. It wasn’t the kind of life you ever expected you’d have, but you were weirdly happy. Bucky had improved a lot over the year. He still had nightmares, but they were coming once a week rather than daily now. More than that, he smiled these days. He’d smile and laugh and he’d talk to you about old memories that came to him. That’s what those notebooks he kept were. One was for the memories he wished he didn’t remember. Missions that he felt obligated to suffer for. One was for memories from his past. Things about Steve or his sister Rebecca or his parents and friends. Then the third notebook he had was for things he never wanted to forget. It was like his journal.

Bucky had come so far and nothing proved that more to you than the moment he touched you for no reason other than wanting to touch you. You had been at the sink, washing dishes, and he had come over to help you by drying. As he grabbed the rag though, he set his right hand on the small of your back and left it there for just a moment. It was such a small thing, sweet and short, but it felt like such a huge step as well.

It had felt like a switch had been flipped. Bucky had gone from no contact at all to constantly having at least one hand on you. It was all innocent touches. A hand on your shoulder, a hand on your back as he passed you, a brush against your wrist as he handed you a coffee, or his shoulder pressed against yours when you sat on the couch together talking. It was just like he was trying to convince himself that you were actually there beside him. You liked it though. You liked it a lot.

16 MONTHS AFTER THE FALL OF SHIELD

Your shift at the café had lasted longer than it usually did, you were covering for a coworker, and when you got home you figured Bucky would’ve eaten by now and had something set aside for you. That’s usually how it went. When you opened the apartment door you were startled to see that the room lights were out, but a couple candles were lit on the kitchen counter. The setting sun cast light through the small balcony door you guys had as well. Bucky had been by the fridge and he turned around at the sound of your entrance.

Bucky had on a button up shirt and jeans, rather than his usual t-shirt and jacket, and his hair was pulled back into a small half bun so it didn’t hang in his face. On the counter, by the candles, you now realized there were two plates set out and a small thing of flowers there as well. A small smile flittered to your features and Bucky mimicked the motion.

“Hey,” He nodded and wrung his hands together, a nervous tic of his that you recognized, “I figure, we’ve lived together almost a year and a half now, yet I still haven’t taken my soulmate out on any kind of date.” Bucky cleared his throat. “My ma would beat me if she knew.”

You laughed, “Oh, would she?”

“Without a doubt.” Bucky nodded. He quickly stepped forward and pulled out the stool for you, “I made your favorite.”

You tossed your bag aside and sat down on the stool, “My favorite? Wow, you’re pulling out all the stops, aren’t you?”

“I’m trying, doll.” Bucky chuckled and moved to get the food. “I’m just praying some of the charm I used to have back in the day somehow survived.”

“I think you’d be surprised.” You replied with a smirk. After setting the food down, he grabbed a bottle of wine and uncorked it. If someone had told you that your first date with your soulmate was going to be in a rundown apartment in Romania after living with them for a year then you would’ve laughed in their face. Yet, here you were doing just that and you couldn’t imagine a more perfect first date.

The evening went by perfectly. As the sun dipped below the horizon the only thing lighting the room were the candles and the moonlight.

Bucky chuckled and took a sip of his drink, “It would be too cheesy if I said that of all the colors we can now see my favorite is your eyes, right?”

“Oh, absolutely.” You laughed even though your favorite color was definitely the stormy, blue gray of his. “You were supposed to be convincing me that you were charming not cheesy.”

Bucky grinned and it made him look years younger, “I am doing my best. Can I get a little slack, doll?”

“Nope.” You said and finished the last of your wine. “I’m actually keeping score right now so I can give you a grade by the end of the night.” Bucky shook his head and stood up to grab the wine bottle off the counter behind him. He poured a little more in your glass. “I can’t decide if you gain points for giving me more wine or lose points for trying to get me inebriated.”

Bucky scoffed, “You’re killing me. You know that right? Actually killing me.”

“You love it.” You joked in response.

He hesitated beside you, setting the bottle down, and cleared his throat, “Yeah. I do.” Your eyes widened a little at his tone. Bucky leaned one arm on the counter beside you and took in a steadying breath, “Everything you’ve done for me… I can’t even begin to tell you how much that means to me.”

“Bucky…”

Bucky shifted to set his hand on top of yours, “I spent the first 27 years of my life wondering what it’d be like to meet my soulmate. What she’d be like. Then, when I—when I fell… I can remember it. I can remember lying in the snow, bleeding, and I distinctly remember waiting to die and feeling so goddamn sorry.” You flipped your hand over to squeeze his hand in comfort. “I felt so awful that I was leaving my soulmate with no one. That she’d live in a world without color for the rest of her life because I made a stupid mistake on a mission.” He gave you a tight smile. “Then I met you. I don’t deserve any of this. After everything I’ve done—”

“None of that was your fault. That was HYDRA, not you.” You said firmly.

Bucky raised his other hand to set on the side of your face, “I don’t understand how I’m so lucky to have a soulmate as remarkable and amazing as you. I love you. I just want you to know that.”

“I love you.” You replied softly and you meant it with your entire being. Bucky said he was lucky, but you felt like the lucky one. You had never met someone who seemed to just understand you like he did. He might have thought all of this was effort for you, a trial, but this past year and half had been the best of your life.

Bucky’s eyes darted down to your lips and he slowly leaned forward. His lips hovered a breath away from yours and you knew he was giving you the space to pull back if you wanted to. That was the last thing on your mind though. You had been waiting for this moment for so long. You leaned forward, eyes closed, and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was soft, hesitant, and you broke apart after a moment. When your eyes opened and met his again though something changed between the two of you.

You stood up from your stool, knocking it over in the process, and wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled his lips back to yours. Bucky grabbed your thighs, not letting his lips leave yours, and lifted you up until you were sitting on the counter. One hand traced up your body, grabbing the back of your head to hold you close, as his other rested on your back to pull you flush against his chest. You sucked on his lower lip and the groan that fell from his mouth was a sound you’d do anything to hear again.

Bucky tore his lips from yours and left a trail of kisses along your jawline, to the space right below your ear, then down the side of your neck until you felt his teeth graze against your pulse point. A small gasp left your lips as his tongue brushed over where his teeth had gotten you and he tightened his other arm around you as if you weren’t already pressed as close to him as you physically could be.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done this.” Bucky mumbled against your skin.

You grinned and tugged on his shirt to bring his lips back towards yours, “Could’ve fooled me.” Bucky slipped his tongue between your lips and you briefly wondered how the hell anyone could be this good at kissing. You didn’t realize a kiss could be good enough to make you feel like this. After another moment, the kiss turned soft again. Bucky pulled back slightly only to lean forward and press his lips against yours a few more times. You set your hands on either side of his face and met his warm gaze. “I love you.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.” Bucky mumbled and pressed his lips against yours again. “I love you.”

Romania wasn’t a place you planned to call home, but you were beginning to realize that home was in Bucky’s arms.

[previous chapter]

[delicatebarness]

giirl I love ur writing and I read all of it ! so thank you !

I was just thinking, crybaby and bucky - soulmate au....(i´m a sucker for those and angst)

so you know, having a sentence or something tattooed, and for once Bucky is patching up crybaby and he sees the tattoo or says the sentence whatever and FLUFF

cry baby | "we're soulmates,"

Summary: ^^ Requested.

Warnings: Fluff. Soulmates AU

Word Count: 481

Series Masterlist

A/N: I kinda wanted to make this canon. Also, sorry for taking so long to write this! I hope you like it!

Cry Baby: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes

A sharp pain shot through your side as you tried to remove your cardigan, causing you to wince. The bruises and cuts were a testament to the rough night. Bucky, the self-appointed protector, insisted on helping you clean up.

“Let me see,” he said, his voice firm but gentle as he carefully peeled the cardigan off your shoulders. A mix of concern and anger flashed across his face as he scanned the damage. “Whoever did this to you is going to pay.” 

“I’m fine, Bucky.” You managed a weak smile. “Just a little bruised.” 

Shaking his head, his jaw tightened. “No, you’re not fine. Sit down, let me patch you up… for a change.” 

You sat at the dining table, your heart pounding as Bucky retrieved the first aid kit from the kitchen. 

He knelt beside you, dabbing antiseptic gently against the cut on your arm, his fingers brushing against the edge of your skin. He froze, his eyes catching sight of something. “What’s this?” he asked, his voice hushed. 

Following his gaze, you saw the small tattoo that you were born with– half of a black star adorning your left forearm. 

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat as he slowly rolled up his sleeve, eye-widening. He revealed the other half of the black star on his own forearm. Realization dawned on both of you simultaneously. Your unspoke connection finally making itself known.

“Buck…” you whispered, your eyes welled as you met his gaze. “I didn’t know…” 

Reaching out, he gently traced the outline of your tattoo. “Neither did I,” he said, his expression softening. “I’ve had this mark for as long as I can remember.”

“Me too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “We were meant to find each other, Bucky.” 

A silence between you, heavy with shared history and unspoken words. Bucky’s removed his hand from your tattoo and reached up to your cheek. His touch continued to be gentle and comforting. “You mean everything to me,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. Something, you have never witnessed from him before this moment. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you leaned into his touch. “And you mean everything to me. I feel like I’ve been waiting for this my whole life.” 

Leaning in, his forehead rested against yours. “We’re soulmates,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “I promise I’ll always be here to protect you.” 

A sense of peace washed over you. Despite the injuries and the rough night, being with Bucky made everything right. You leaned up, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmured, wiping your tears with his thumb. “And then we’ll figure out what this all means.” 

You nodded, offering him a smile. “Together.” 

He smiled back, a genuine and heartfelt smile. “Together,” he echoed.

---

Series Masterlist

[elissanatok]

﹒•˒⟿⭒「𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐄 ❞」ʿʿ ⟿☼ 2

↳✉⭒˞˔˙ː❛ -ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡?✹⋮

◌༄۵ !𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗎 !

!𝚂.𝚁. //𝙱.𝙱.// 𝙿.𝙼. //𝙿.𝙿. !

𝖱𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗋𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍. 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗐𝗁𝗈, 𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈, 𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖱𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍??? 𝖶𝖾𝗅𝗅 – 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗁𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 – 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 – 𝗅𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖾.

a/n: this is complete fluff I guess

Peter Parker felt his fingers twitch for the thousand time this morning. He wished he could give the one cup of coffee he had that morning the fault for this, but he knew something was wrong. He knew his senses were even higher than usually and the strong grip on the strap of his backpack did nothing to release some tension.

He did send Mr. Stark a message telling him something was wrong, but the moment he told him his problem was finger twitching Tony stopped answering.

His brown locks were ruffled, and Ned's eyes widened when he met him in the halls. "Woah what happened to you man?", he asked, analyzing his friend from head to toe. "I – I don't know. Something is wrong." He started rubbing the itching art on his body. Usually, he loved it. The fine sketch of a woman who's reading a newspaper, keeping her legs crossed, was his favorite part about his body. Although it wasn't really about him. It would make his day - looking at his waist in the mirror and tracing the lines till they had burned themselves into his mind. God, he loved the idea of her feeling his touch. And even after he found his favorite part to be the favorite part to three other men, he still couldn't help but give himself butterflies every time he thought of her.

Her.

Snapping out of his trance, he looked at his friend who was raising an eyebrow at him. "Did you listen to me? Hey dude where is your mind. I just told you the best thing ever!", "Sorry.", Peter mumbled, biting his lip. "So there's this new girl, alright. I have math with her. She's hot. So hot bro. And- and- ", "Yeah she's cool I guess." Both guys snapped their neck towards MJ, who was slightly smirking as she stopped next to them. "Yeah- so- ", "What's her name?", Peter asked wanting to meet her now that his friends already got to know her. "Y/n. Cool right?", Ned said grinning. "Yeah -cool. Look – I should go.", "You alright Pete?", asked MJ, to which he nodded, before he speed walked to his next class, just to freeze in the door.

Her hair was beautiful. Braided in some kind of pretty bun which he had no clue about. Her nose was wrinkled as she looked down at the notebook, the pencil tightly held between her fingers and her lips in a pout. "Shit.", he whispered, looking at her lips. They were rosy, not red, not too big, but not too small. The perfect match to his.

Wrinkling her eyebrows Y/n slowly looked up, but came to the conclusion she must have imagined the feeling of someone starring at her, because no one was standing in the door. No- the boy who was leaning outside of the room, with a rapid beating heart and red cheeks couldn't look into her eyes.

Everything he imagined could come true now, but he wished oh so dearly for it to be Steve or Pietro who got to meet her first. Look- Peter was an awkward, shy boy most of the times and even tough he would be the one to spend some time with her alone before he had to tell the others, he was scared shitless.

She wouldn't laugh at him if he started to ramble or said something that sounded wrong. Right?

Peeping around the wall he took a deep breath. Her legs were crossed, the same way the lady from his soul mark did. Another deep breath followed, before he closed his eyes and- he opened them again and fell right into a deep pool of y/e/c.

Y/n’s head was tilted slightly as her mouth went dry. "H-Hi.", she whispered and started fumbling with the rings on her finger to prevent from falling around his neck immediately. "H—Hey", Peter coughed out, getting even redder cheeks when he took in her smell. "So- you're my soulmate huh?", she asked, trying to ease him and herself a little bit. "I guess."

"Is that bad?", she asked nervous. "I mean is- am I- "Her self-consciousness was interrupted by her teacher walking thru the door next to them. "Mmh." She didn't find the words she was searching for, so she pointed at the door and left in a hurry. Great. Just Great.

It did exactly go like he always imagined. Not really tho.

He sighed, as he rubbed a hand over his face. He didn't even know where to start from here. He didn't know if he should tell the others first or get to know her. He was going to have a heart attack at the age of seventeen and it would be her fault. Y/n St. Lorenz would be the death of him.

Slightly she took her eyes of her book, when the sound of the chair next to her being pulled backwards met her ears. Peter -again- took a deep breath. "It's – uhm- fantastic.", he smiled, and tried to memorize her face. "What?", she whispered, and looked in his eyes again. "I- uhm- you know- you are – it's not bad that you're my soulmate. It's perfect. You're perfect." A blush spread over both their faces. "Oh- You don't even know me.", "But I would love to."

"I guess that can be arranged.",

"Great. I'm Peter -Parker uhm- Peter Parker.",

"Nice to meet you, Peter Parker. I'm Y/n.",

"Perfect.",

"Yeah- Perfect."

[eat-limes-bitches]

The Sounds That Bind Us

PAIRING: Female Farmer! Reader x Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: Music has a way of tying two people together, in ways that only the universe can design.

WARNINGS: umm, major fluff, so so so fluffy! Minor injuries (for Bucky any way)

Word Count: 2967

Alternate Jun-iverse: C4027 | Square 1: Soulmate | Square 2: Country

A/N: OOO! I'm excited for this one yall! I've been working on it for a while! (Hence the word length hehe) But this is my first attempt at a soulmate AU and I hope I did it justice, but I'm really happy with it and I hope you guys love it as much as I do!

Song lyrics are in italics and the songs are:

Honey Take My Hand by Cody Francis

Didn’t See It Coming by My Brothers and I

Fallen Like A Star by St. Lundi

Enjoy! <3

Divider by Rookthorne, graphic by Eat-Limes-Bitches

Bucky was going to kill him. Steve had promised an easy in-and-out mission, something low stakes to get back into the groove after some time off in Wakanda. This was everything but that. Bucky was snapped out of his murderous thoughts by a bullet whizzing by his head, making him curse as he sped up. These HYDRA soldiers were hot on his tail, and not letting up. It didn’t help that he had been hit, the pain coursing through his right thigh a constant reminder of the bullet lodged in the flesh. As he tumbled through the treeline into a clearing, he saw an old barn, the moonlight reflecting off the tin roof seemed like a beacon of hope. Without any other options, he skillfully hopped over the fence, ducked into the barn, held his breath, and listened. The soldiers came exploding through the treeline and stopped, seeing no sign of Bucky anywhere. Bucky listened carefully as he heard them approach the barn and stop. Their boots crunched on the fallen leaves as they circled the barn. His heart was in his throat, blood rushing in his ears but after a moment that seemed like forever, they left. Bucky didn’t move for almost an hour, listening and making sure that he was in the clear before he pulled out his transponder. He looked down to activate it and saw that it had been trashed by a stray bullet. He groaned out a curse and threw the useless device across the barn. He tried to stand but the pain in his leg prevented him from supporting any weight so he pushed himself up against the wall, deciding that he’d just rest for a bit.

He was on the verge of sleep when a song started to flow through his mind, louder than it had been since, ever, causing him to startle. See, everyone had a soulmate, something Bucky never believed in, having never heard any music in the 40’s. After he fell off the train, he figured whoever they were would be long dead by now. However, since coming out of recovery, he started to hear the music again. Part of HYDRA’s programming, he found out, was to block the music that would be pumping into his mind from his soulmate but now that he was free from all of the things that HYDRA put in his head, he started hearing music. He didn’t think much of it, as it was always quiet and in the background like a thought, but this song was so loud that it sounded like it was being whispered in his ear. 

“Let's get out, we can leave this city. Let's drive to the open air. Yeah, the countryside is so pretty. With the wind blowing in your hair. We can look back someday Baby, don't you understand? That we only get one love, I wanna make it count. Honey, come on now and take my hand”

It was a soft melody, the gentle guitar soothing his frayed nerves, and just as quickly as it startled him awake, it soothed him back to sleep.

He was woken up by something cold and wet nuzzling into his cheek. Bucky groaned and tried to shift away from the intrusion but he was too stiff from his awkward sleeping predicament to move very fast. Swatting at whatever the hell was messing with him, he was greeted by more music flooding his senses. This time, even louder than the last. The guitar was vibrating his bones and the drums rattling his teeth when all of a sudden there was a gasp and the music promptly stopped. 

“Jake! Get away from him! Jesus, hey guy, are you ok?” 

A panicked voice called out as the presence next to him disappeared. Bucky shot open his eyes and shot up into a position ready to defend himself when he saw a woman staring at him. Her light blue button-up was tucked into a pair of old worn-out jeans with a dark belt securing them in place around her hips. A large black and white dog was standing at her side, tail wagging furiously back and forth as its warm brown eyes stared at him. 

Bucky blinked, all the memories of what happened yesterday came flooding back into the forefront of his brain.

“Uh- yeah, I uh- I think so.” He groaned, his leg screaming at him in pain causing him to hiss out in discomfort. 

“Are you sure? You don’t seem like it, here, let me help you.” The woman walked over, tucking an arm underneath his and wrapping it around him, hoisting him onto his feet and leading him to a bench on the other side of the barn. She gently placed him down and ran her eyes over him when she noticed the dried patch of blood on his thigh.

“Shit, have you been shot?!” Bucky was too busy gawking at how stunning this woman was to notice that he was bleeding again, her words caused him to look down where she was staring.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess I was. I kind of forgot about that.” Bucky shrugged as he watched the woman wander off to another area.

“How in the hell do you just forget that you were shot?!” She called out in between the slams of cabinet doors. Bucky took a deep breath, opening his mouth to respond when he noticed the dog, who he presumed to be the ‘Jake’ the woman had called out to, resting his head on Bucky’s non-injured thigh. He ran his fingers through the soft silky fur of the pup’s head, looking back up when he heard the woman's rapidly returning footsteps. She appeared from around an old tractor, med kit in tow. She saw the dog vibrating happily underneath Bucky’s attention and smiled softly.

“Jake! Leave…” She paused looking at Bucky for his name. 

“Bucky. You can call me Bucky.” She smiled.

“Y/n. Nice to meet you Bucky.” Bucky’s heart flipped in his chest at the sound of his name rolling off her tongue. His eyes followed her as she crouched down next to him, placing the med kit on the bench. 

“Are you ok with me taking care of this or would you rather do it,” Y/n asked as she began to rifle through the box looking for all of the necessary supplies. Bucky was shocked, she just found this strange man in her barn and was going to help him out instead of calling the cops. He realized she was waiting for an answer, her eyes full of worry staring at him, waiting for an answer. 

“Or, um, I can take you to the hospital, but that's a bit of a drive.” Bucky just shook his head.

“No, no. It’s fine. If you leave the supplies here I can take care of it. Thanks.” Y/n nodded standing up.

“Of course! I’ll get you a change of clothes. My brother left some clothes here, he’s about your height. Hopefully, they fit.”

Before Bucky could say anything else, Y/n walked out of the barn and disappeared, leaving Bucky alone with Jake and a med kit. Bucky gave the dog a final pet before tending to injury.

Once, he was cleaned up and in a fresh pair of clothes, Y/n brought him to the little farmhouse for some breakfast. Bucky sat on a stool watching Y/n cook.

“So how did you end up in my barn? It’s not every day that I get up to start chores and find a man in there.” She asked, flipping over the pancake in the skillet. Bucky chuckled scratching the back of his neck, trying to decide what to say.

“Well, uh… It’s kind of a long story...” 

A few days had passed since breakfast that morning, him spilling his entire life life story to this woman. She promised to try and help him get back to his team, however, the first snow of the season had fallen that same evening and there was no way for them to drive to the town some thirty miles away with the ice and snow covering the roads. 

“Being in the middle of nowhere has its advantages and disadvantages.” She had told him, shoveling a path out to the barn the next morning. “The fact that no plow trucks come through here just happens to be one of the shitty things.” 

Bucky felt strange just sitting around while she worked so he offered to help out while he was there. A sort of thank you for inadvertently saving his life. The more he worked around the farm, the more music he heard playing through his mind, but every time he tried to find the source, it would disappear and Y/N would appear from around a corner, tucking something into her pocket and then asking Bucky a question as she approached. 

The same thing was happening again as Bucky heard the first few chords from a new song drift into his mind, the same volume as the song that first night he slept in the barn.

“Fell in love with a girl that's a few years younger. Was a sister of a friend, didn’t see it coming.”

Bucky set down the bale of hay he had started to take to the horses, to follow the music. He walked over towards the door of the barn, the music getting louder with each step he took.

“I was hanging with him when I heard the door open.”

He pushed open the door and looked out to see Y/n and Jake walking towards the barn. She had earbuds tucked in under her hat, humming softly, and with each step she took towards the barn the louder the music in Bucky's ears got. He felt his heart start to race, his mouth ran dry.

“She walked into the room with a smile and that’s when, her eyes looked at me and said quietly,”

Y/n looked up to see Bucky staring at her and plucked the earbuds out of her ears and tucked them into her pocket, the music playing in Bucky’s mind disappearing with them.

“Hey, Bucky! I was lookin’ for ya!” She smiled at him, continuing to walk closer. “I was wondering if you could help me with something a little different.” She was standing right in front of him now, her bright eyes locking onto his. His pulse started to quicken as he hoped the cold masked the blush forming on his cheeks. 

“W-what might that be?” Y/n giggled and placed a hand on his shoulder sparks flooding throughout his body as she pushed him back into the barn. 

“I have to round up the cows today, since it’s snowed that means all of the bot flies are gone so we can go ahead and deworm them. I was hoping you could tag along. I know you’ve probably never done anything like this but it would really help me out a ton.” She smiled sweetly at him as she paused by the tack room, heading inside to grab her saddle and other equipment for the task at hand. 

“Uh sure, I’ll give it a go,” Bucky replied, following her into the small room, grabbing the other saddle sitting on the rack. It was then Bucky decided that he would do just about anything to get Y/n to smile at him like that again. It was so warm and bright that he felt ten times warmer than he did just moments ago.

“Awesome! Thank you so much, Buck! If you want to tack up Shanty I’ll hop on Zippy and we can go bring those cows up to the cattle shed!” 

Bucky saddled up Shanty with some difficulty due to the fact he had no idea what the hell he was doing, but with Y/n’s help, the pair were ready to go. Bucky watched as Y/n skillfully mounted the red horse who was stomping around impatiently waiting for her to get on. Taking a deep breath, he carefully pulled himself up into the saddle and nodded for Y/n to lead the way. As the pair began to jog through the snow Bucky called out,

“I hope you know I haven’t been on a horse since 1943, an’ never used em’ on a farm before so I have no idea what I’m doin’ darlin’.”

Y/n let out a laugh that seemed to sing off of the ice that covered a nearby pond. She looked over her shoulder and Bucky was convinced he had never seen a more beautiful sight. The morning sun reflected off the snow, causing its golden glow to dance across the landscape. Its golden rays were blocked by the brim of her dark cowboy hat, but the leather band almost seemed to be turned into gold as the beams of light that slipped around the edges wove into the intricate braid. Her eyes sparkled with something so warm and bright that Bucky was sure he was seeing an angel in person. 

“Don’t worry too much!” She replied, oblivious to the effect she had on the man. 

“Shanty’s a pro. She can basically do this on her own, she just prefers having someone on her back or a little extra guidance.” Y/n explained as the cow herd came into view. “Just point her in the right direction, she will do the rest.” 

Bucky nodded and watched as Y/n kicked Zippy forward toward the cows and once she rounded the back, the herd started running in his direction. Gripping onto the reins, he pointed Shanty in the direction and when the cows tried to jump out of line, Shanty would run and slide to a stop, forcing the cows to stay in a group as they ran towards the cattle shed. 

The journey back to the cattle shed was considerably more work than the ride out, constantly trying to keep the frisky cows from darting off one way or another but eventually, they were all secured in the barn, Y/n smiled at Bucky.

“Thank you for your help. I can take it from here. Meet you inside for dinner? I prepped some ravioli last week that’s in the freezer.” 

Bucky smiled and agreed, leading Shanty and Zippy back to the barn, the goofy grin remaining on his face all the way there.

Bucky grumbled angrily as the wrench slipped out of his hand. He reached out from under the tractor with his left hand when he remembered that his left hand was, essentially, an all-purpose tool. After finally getting the stubborn bolt off, he pushed himself out from underneath the tractor and took a sip of the hot cider in his mug that Y/n insisted he take with him after dinner. In between bites of the best ravioli that he had ever eaten, Y/n mentioned that the tractor had a bust pipe and that he had gotten the parts but hadn’t had the time to fix it herself so naturally, Bucky set off to fix it as soon as the dishes were done. 

Just as Bucky was about to get back to work, he heard a new melody whisper in his ear.

I'm flying, shining, bright like just like the Leonids, Heading for you.

Wiping his hands off on an old shop towel, Bucky made his way back to the farmhouse, and with each step he took, the music got a little louder.

Slowly, but surely, lighting up the pyramids, On my way to you

Kicking off his snow and mud-covered boots in the mud room, Bucky followed the sound of the music, to the back porch where he found Y/n sitting with a mug in her hands gazing up at the stars.

Ooh, ooh. I've fallen like a star for you

The music was so loud at this point, that Bucky was convinced that it was integrating itself into the very fiber of his being. Taking a steadying breath, he reached out a hand and placed it on Y/n’s shoulder startling her her slightly before realizing it was just him. He watched as she hit the pause button, and the music that was flowing so clearly stopped. Bucky felt his heart rate pick up. There is no way that he's finally found her after all this time.

“Hey Buck, What going on?” Y/n asks softly, offering a smile

“Can I see your Phone?” Bucky asks all in one breath.

Puzzled Y/n hands it to him. “Uh, sure why?”

“I just want to try something” He mumbled as he put the earbuds in and walked away from her to the opposite end of the porch. He locked eyes with her and hit play.

He watched as Y/n’s eyes grew wide, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. She heard it too. Bucky swallowed as he took a shaky step toward her, the music getting louder with each step he took until he was standing face-to-face with her.

Ooh, ooh. I've fallen like a star for you

“I think you’re my soulmate” He whispered, reaching out to cup her face with his flesh hand, the metal one still holding onto the phone.

Y/n blinked a few times in surprise before surging forward and tackling him in a hug planting a firm but warm kiss on his lips. Bucky blinked in surprise but responded immediately, wrapping his other arm around her and pulling her flush against his body.  Eventually, they parted and Y/n smiled up at him.

 “Does that mean you’ll stay here with me?” She whispered.

Bucky pressed his forehead against hers before he replied, “Forever and always, for as long as you’ll have me.”

[vicmc624]

Looking for a fic, reader's gma dies but before she does tells her she is a soul reader. As soon as she dies reader can see lines connecting people. She follows a line out of her chest and starts following Bucky. She ends up killing people trying to kill Bucky bc he's her soulmate.

[imwall-e]

A CHOICE TO MAKE

Paiting : Bucky x Reader

Warning : soulmate AU, fluff, angst

Word count : 2047

READER POV

At the age of one, small letters appeared on your left wrist : the initials of your soulmate. It has been like this for everyone over the centuries. Your parents were no exceptions, destined to be together. Their lives sealed by ink on the skin. However, that didn't stop them from fighting over and over again. Tearing themselves apart before your eyes every day, even to the point of forgetting your presence. When you were eight, they filed for divorce and left you with your Aunt Emilia.

From that moment on, you refused to believe in this absurd soulmate story, wearing a bandage that Emilia changed every day to hide the initials. After a while, you stopped remembering which letters were engraved.

As years went by, you stayed with your aunt. Your parents never came back. Never called you. If that was what love looked like, you didn't want it. You didn't want to be abandoned, to have your heart broken by anyone else.

As you grew up, drawing became your one true love. Your aunt taught you and you were really good at it. Studies have never interested you. So, when you finished high school, you joined your aunt in running her clothing boutique. She made everything herself and taught you everything you needed to know. Thanks to her talents and yours, the store flourished. You even had the opportunity to partner with a few well-known brands.

About your sentimental life, you finally decided to give it a chance. After all, your parents were probably an exception. Unfortunately, the few relationships you had failed. Either because you were too scared, or because you couldn't ignore the men's wrist : it was never your initials. And the main reason was that not many people wanted to be in a relationship with someone they knew wasn't their soulmate. As a result, you were still single at the age of 28.

You wanted to find love, but you still refused to look at your wrist. To avoid thinking about what you would never have, you worked relentlessly. After a busy day, you liked to go to your favorite café. It was open all night, which was perfect because you were more productive at night. Sometimes you even spent the night there. During another evening, you settled in with a café au lait in hand. You were concentrating on a new summer dress project and hadn't heard the stranger arrive.

BUCKY POV

It was another sleepless night for Bucky. It has been like that since Hydra. His dreams always turning into nightmares. He'd got into the habit of wandering around at night. It helped him to calm his mind. Steve, his best friend, had advised him to go out and explore. « It helped him when I woke up in the 21st century, » he had told him, before going back to the 40s.

Bucky was walking through the streets. Night had already fallen but New-York was called « the city that never sleeps » for a reason : there was always activity even at night. Yet, he still managed to find a quiet place in a small street. A café opened 24/7.

When he entered, a little bell announced his arrival. The owner was behind the counter, and greeted him with a smile. Bucky ordered a cup of black coffee. All the tables were free, except one. The young woman sitting by the window was wearing glasses, a computer in front of her, a pen in her hands and notebooks spread out on two tables.

He decided to approach her. After all, why not try to make new friends ? Plus, she was really pretty. He took his café and headed towards her.

« Is this place available ?, » he asked. But she didn't answer, her mind way too focused on her drawings. Bucky tried again and this time she jumped. « I'm sorry, » he quickly added, « I didn't mean to scare you. »

« No, it's fine. I was just working and sometimes I just don't pay attention to my surroundings, » she said, putting her things away to make room for him. While she was doing that, Bucky noticed the bandage on her wrist and wondered why. That made him think about his left arm, the metal one, hidden under his leather jacket, his hand under a glove. He couldn't remember the letters. And almost all pictures from his previous life had disappeared, making it impossible to find out. However, this wouldn't be useful. His soulmate must be dead by now. He was still alive, but love was dead for him.

READER POV When the man's voice finally reached your ears, you got scared because usually there weren't a lot of people in the café late at night, and no one talked to you because you were always busy. Your eyes met his blue ones, and it was like looking to the sky after a storm.

Instinctively, you looked at his wrist which was hidden under his clothes. It scared you and reassured you at the same time. Maybe he was like you. Maybe he didn't want to know either.

« My name is Bucky, » he said, holding out his hand for you to shake. You shyly took it, giving him your name. You sat, facing each other. He was interested in your drawings, and you told him about your job and the store you ran with your aunt.

« Do you also design men's clothes ?, » he asked, looking at your different drawings.

« No, I never tried to be honest. We also were never asked to do them, so I only created them for women. But, why not, that could be fun and we would reach more people. »

You continued talking and around 1 a.m, Bucky invited you for a walk through the city. « The night is still young, and I feel like none of us is tired… but only if you want of course, » he was scratching the back of his neck and his cheeks took a pink shade. He was nervous.

« It's okay, » you genuinely smiled at him, « I'd love to. » He looked relieved.

« I'm sorry, it has just been a long time since I invited a woman somewhere. If you feel uncomfortable of course, I won't bother you ! » He looked so nervous, it was cute.

« Bucky, it's fine. You're just talking like you are really old, » you chuckled.

« Well, let's talk about that while we're walking. »

While you were walking through the streets of New-York, Bucky told you about his life. The 40s, the war, Hydra, waking up to the 21st century. When you asked why he was telling you all of this, he said : « because it's not everyday that I can talk about my own story. Usually people learn from the Internet, and it's not the same. » He also explained that he was scared, because he knew that he was going to spend the rest of his life without a woman by his side. His soulmate was in the past, and he was here.

« I think that isn't true. Love can't only be defined by a tattoo. And if you really believed what you just said, you wouldn't be here with me. »

He stopped, taking your hand. « You seem angry. » You didn't answer. « I saw that you were hiding the letter, why ? You could look for your soulmate and be happy. »

« Because I don't believe in it. I don't want this fucking inscription to tell me who I have to love. » He told you about his story, so you did the same. He didn't judge you, instead he understood. « Come on old man, » you didn't want to talk about this anymore, « let's forget this soulmate thing and enjoy our night together. »

« Follow me, » he said, taking your hand, « I know a nice spot. »

Bucky took you to a building, using the elevator to get to the roof. He asked you to close your eyes and you opened them when you felt the wind on your face. The view was beautiful : you could see the lights of the town, some of them coming from windows. Looking at the sky, you were able to see a few stars. It was silent, the sound of the city seemed far away.

You looked back at Bucky who was smiling. He took his jacket off, revealing the metal arm. « Dance with me », he said. And you accepted, taking his hand.

« Where did you learn how to dance ?, » you asked, letting him guide you.

« My mom taught me, » you briefly saw sadness in his eyes but his smile was stronger. « I'm glad I didn't forget. »

You both stayed like that for a long time. No words were required. You could have stayed like that for the rest of the night, when it started to rain. « I should take you back to your place, » Bucky broke the comfortable silence.

"Wait, » you begin. « I.. I always wanted to have a kiss under the rain. » You could feel your cheeks burning. But you had to try because there was something different about him. Because he had no letters. Because maybe you had a chance. Because maybe life was easier this time.

He took your face in his big hands, and gently kissed you. The rain fell harder and harder, it was cold on your hot skin. But Bucky didn't stop and you didn't want him to. Nothing mattered but you and him.

Later, he took you to your place. And you both knew that even if it was the end of the night it was the beginning of a life together.

3 years later

It was a beautiful rainy day. The dark clouds were reflected in the lake. The reception room was decorated with blue flowers. People were talking as they were waiting for you. In a few minutes it would be your moment. One of the most important in your life.

Emilia helped you with the final touches. She noticed that you still had a bandage around your wrist. « You should remove it now, » she gently said. Bucky has often told you the same, he didn't care about what would be written on it.

« I'm scared, I don't want to ruin this day by seeing another man's letter. Only Bucky matters now. »

« Then, you won't pay attention to it. Trust me, take it off. » You looked into her eyes. You knew you could trust her, as always. With trembling hands and your heart beating loudly, you removed what was covering your skin. And you saw.

J. B. B.

Tears were rolling down your cheeks. Your aunt read the letters and smiled. « What is so funny ? » you asked.

« Honey, I remember the initials from before you decided to forget them. I even have a picture on which you can read them. I'm always keeping it in my wallet, in case you wanted to see it one day. » She handed you the picture, a younger version of yourself was smiling, waving at the camera. You took a look at this small hand.

S. G. R

« I don't… » But you didn't have the time to finish your sentence. The music started. It was time to go. You took your aunt's arm so she could walk you down the aisle. When Bucky saw you, he was amazed. Your dress was beautiful, and you had designed it yourself. He couldn't wait to say the words that would unite the both of you forever.

« Remember, » Emilia told you in the middle of the aisle, « your life isn't determined by letters, but by your choices. » You couldn't ask her any questions as you were already in front of Bucky. Looking into his perfect blue eyes, you remembered what you said a few minutes ago : Only Bucky matters now.

You looked again at the letters and realized that you were going to marry your soulmate, because it was your choice.

I hope you loved this soulmate OS! Tell me what you think in the comments !

[darsynia]

Ro Roll Masterlist

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST

It is my BESTIE'S BIRTHDAY and I have done something silly and outrageous. You see, @ronearoundblindly LOVES the song Never Gonna Give You Up. So I decided to write her 7 stories, one for each of the syllables in that first phrase.

It's a celebration of friendship, of blatant ridiculousness, and most of all, the characters we both know and love! Thanks for coming along!!

NEw Nomad Steve/nurse!fReader first kiss

adVERsarial Bucky/mechanic!fReader soulmate AU

draGONfly MCU Steve/wizard!fReader fantasy AU

banaNA Steve/f!Reader established relationship smut

forGIVEn CEO!Steve/f!Reader fluffy meet cute

joYOUs CEO!Steve/f!Reader (part II)

sUPine Bucky/mechanic!fReader (Adversarial Part II)

It's been an honor and a delight being your friend!

[saltsicklover]

I've Always Dreamt of You (Unknown Soulmate AU) 

Part One: Blue

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader 

Word Count: 3365

Rating: T

Warnings: Drinking, Swearing, mention of Blood, mention of Vomit, Mention of Character Death.

-- To be continued. I hope you enjoy! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list :) --

Disclaimer: I do not own Bucky Barnes, or anything related to Marvel within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

The way Icarus dreamt of flight doesn't even come close to rivaling the way I dream of him. I can still feel the touch of his hands on the cold of my skin, fingertips warming trails like tepid wax down the plains of my neck, dripping from the hallows of my collarbones and down my chest like a whisper. 

He first came to me in glimpses, blurry and burned around the edges. Teasing my senses, never allowing me to catch more than just a piece or two before he faded away again, my heart leaping from my chest and jolting me awake. I guess, over all of these years, I still haven't been able to piece a full picture of him together in my mind. 

He has been visiting my dreams since I was sixteen. He's always been there, in my mind's eye as I drift each night; his presence, his touch. Then, slow and treacherous, fragments started breaking through the darkness of my mind. Every image, sound, scrape of skin against mine seemed to disappear upon awaking, but as the years passed, they lingered like tart whiskey and the stench of cherry cigars. 

I remember the first time I saw something I could recall about him for more than a few minutes upon waking; the color of his eyes, ocean salt blue and trench deep. I began seeing that color everywhere, in the depths of the sky and the cold water beneath my feet as I sat on the bank of the creek listening to the songs of sparrows. 

The color was the only thing that stuck with me for three years; over the time I collected a list of items in the same color, pieces of him that snuck into the real world. Bluebells and feathers, trinkets from nature. I saw it in the jack of my playing cards and the paint of my neighbors truck. I felt like the color was surrounding me, and I welcomed it because I craved him, devouring each sliver I could find, worried that if I continued to let him slip through my fingers I'd never have a complete picture. 

The next time I saw something I could remember, I was nineteen. Bloodied hands never left my brain. The image haunted me like an apparition. The way the crimson leaked down his palms made my stomach twist, queasy and aching. The way his veins bulged beneath his pale skin and the callouses marking themselves over experienced hands. The fact that his hands never quite matched each other, like they weren't both flesh and blood made my stomach turn. 

I vomited the morning after that dream. 

Today I am twenty six and the broken images of him still leak though my subconscious into my conscious mind, interrupting my work day. Sometimes I can smell the strong scent of his cologne in the air, or feel the brush of his fingertips on my skin, up and down my arm. I try to push all the thoughts away, turning back to the files set out on my desk. I scan over the lines again and again but none of the words seem to stick in my head and at this rate, if I can't finish payroll I'm screwed. 

Yet, the only thing I can think of is the bit I saw of him last night, a new bit this time. The faintest five o'clock shadow surrounding desert rose brushed lips. I can almost remember him speaking to me, and the way his tongue would dart out of his mouth to run over his bottom lip, but all of the details are much too disjointed and blurry. 

Most of the encounters I have of him are lovely. Going to sleep and dreaming of him, his hands, his touch, the feeling of occupying the same space; it feels like coming home. He never ages, and the changes that come are small, few and far between. 

He seems to be a combination of both hell and heaven and I am painfully torn between them, the waking hours like hell with the inability to conjure up his image or the feeling of his presence, body pressed up against my own- but at night, whether it be called a dream or heaven, he is there in front of me, and I don't need to see him to know the way me soul yearns for him. 

Lately, he has been coming in flashes- even while I am awake. I can see the the crinkle of skin around the corner of his eyes when he squints. I get hit with whiffs of cologne and the smell of conditioned leather. I feel a cold finger run it's way down the side of my arm, from shoulder to elbow; the whole ordeal making my hair stand on end, goosebumps encapsulating my skin. 

The shrill ringing of the phone manages to pull me from my thoughts, I clear my throat before answering. "Hello, thank you for calling Charred Ambrosia, how can I help you?" I ask over the loud music that is rumbling through the walls.  Seven in the evening on a Thursday night and people are already starting their weekend off at the bar, my bar. 

"Hey, Scooter, is that you?" A smooth voice asks through the crackling of the land line. I grimace at the nickname but a smile still tugs at the corner of my lips. I've always hated the fact that I like the nickname, but I could never tell Scott that I do in fact like it- couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing. 

"Hello, Scott, yeah, it's me. What's up?" I question, pulling the coils of the phone cord through my fingers, letting each one of them bounce carefully through my fingertips. 

"You keeping busy tonight, or do a few friends need to stop by to keep you company?" He jests, I can hear the joy leaking through the line. I roll my eyes, though he can't see. 

"We are plenty busy, thank you very much. But I wouldn't say no to seeing you, or your friends, you know that," I inform him, closing the paperwork in front of me. I slap the pen on top of the files, creating a problem for future me. 

"Happy to hear it, Scooter, because some new work friends and I are on the way over right now. You better be behind the bar when we get there!" The line goes dead and I can't help but laugh before setting down the receiver. I head out of the office and head back behind the bar, attempting to make myself as busy as possible as I wait for Scott and his buddies to get in. 

After a handful of checked ID's and served drinks later, Scott comes barreling into the bar, his throng of friends in tow. They stick out against the regulars, their eyes too trained, movements calculated as they position themselves with their backs to the wall. Maybe old habits die hard, or maybe it's because they've come close to death one too many times not to play it overly safe; it's like their scapula's are drawn to the studs in the walls. 

Scott pushes up to the bar, his mudslide iris's bleeding with light unbridled joy just as they always do. A wide smile adorns his face, cheeks beginning to go red. He slides himself into a barstool, the rest of his friends confining themselves to a booth against the far side of the bar. 

"Hey Scotty, what can I get you?" I ask, running the towel in my hand over the counter in front of him. I try and return the smiles he gives me but I know it doesn't quite crest over my eyes. If Scott notices, he doesn't say anything. 

"A round of tequila shots for the table, so that will be six please, Scooter," He taps his hands against the warn and scratched surface of the bar top as he speaks. I swear I have never seen Scott not fidget. 

"If I counted right when you came in, there is only five of you," I chuckle, pulling the shot glasses out from underneath the bar. I line them up carefully before pulling out the salt to rim each glass. Scott furrows a brow at me before turning back to his group of friends to count. I can't help but laugh as he counts each of them on his fingers. 

"Oh right!" He exclaims, turning back to face me, "Bucky isn't here yet, but he will be, so six shots please." I roll my eyes but rim one more shot glass with salt before putting a wedge of lime on each of them. 

"Go sit with your friends, Scotty, I'll bring these over when they're ready," I inform him, shooing him away with a wave of my hand. He goes to protest but keeps quiet when I raise my eyebrows at him. He knows better than to challenge me, especially after all of our years of  friendship. Scott wanders over to his friends and I pour each shot before placing them carefully on a tray. I pull the tray carefully from the bar before rounding the corner to their table. 

"Good evening, gentleman and Wanda, how are we this evening?" I ask, a smile spreading over my lips. I have met only Wanda, which happened to be by complete accident when she came into the bar with her brother, Pietro, when they were still new in town. She came around a lot after his passing and we became friends somewhere between then and now. 

I know of the men sitting with Scott, being that they are Avengers, but I haven't met them officially. The large blond sitting next to Scott cracks a shy smile, sending a look my way and the older man next to him shoots a knowing glance across the table towards Wanda. He earns a hard elbow to the ribs from the black man sitting on his other side. I pretend not to notice as I place the shots down in front of them. 

"I'm Steve," The blond speaks as he looks up at me from his seat, "We've heard so much about you, from Scott, it's nice to finally meet you," 

"Hello Steve, it's nice to meet you as well. Thank you guys for coming in to visit little ol' me," I chuckle, tucking my tray under my arm. I lean into Scott's shoulder with my hip, bumping him playfully. 

"Scooter, this is Clint, Sam, and you know Wanda," Scott introduces the rest of the group, each of them nodding and offering a kind smile. 

"What brings you guys to this little hole-in-the-wall this evening?" I question, my eyes roaming around the table. 

"Scott says you make the best drinks," Sam answers as he spins his shot carefully on the table.

"And we wanted to meet you! Sometimes it's nice to talk to normal people, you know?" Steve speaks and I can't help but laugh at his choice of words. Scott laughs too, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. 

"Normal people what's that supposed to mean?" I jest, looking Steve dead in the face. A blush beings to form under his collar, spreading up his neck and over his face quickly like a wildfire taking over. 

"You know, civilians, not super people, just normal!" Steve tries to save the interaction but the blond next to him, Clint, shoves an elbow into his ribs again. 

"Quit while you're ahead," He mutters, a grin pulling at the corners of his lips. Steve just slouches down a bit in his seat, trying to make himself disappear into the upholstery. 

"Don't worry about it, I'm just fuckin' with you, that's all," I chide. The group erupts into laughter, and I can't help but feel grateful that Scott drug his friends here tonight. All of this is better than trying, and failing, to fill out paperwork. "Scotty told me you have another friend joining you this evening, is that right?" 

"Yeah, Bucky should be here any moment," Sam informs me, checking his watch for good measure. 

"Well, considering the fact that he is late, I think this shot here belongs to me," I pick up the glass carefully, taking the lime off the rim. "Shall we?" I ask and each person grabs a shot. 

"To drinking with normal people!" Scott toasts, shooting a wink in my direction. A chuckle escapes my lips as I tap the bottom of my glass against the table before bringing it to my lips. I lick the salt off the rim quickly before taking the shot. The alcohol isn't as unpleasant as it could have been, but I hastily shove the lime into my mouth anyway. 

"I don't think I'm meant for shots," Wanda grimaces, shaking her heads. Her body vibrates, goosebumps pilling over her skin as she shoves the shot glass away from her on the table. 

"I don't blame you," Sam laughs, the sound full and rich coming from his lips. It makes me smile.

 It's nice having actual joy radiating through the bar. More often than not, there is always someone here drinking away some sort of grief or thought they cannot outrun. Others are here to get into some trouble or someone else's bed for the night. Joy seems to be in short supply and I try and soak it in as Scotty and his friends laugh whole heartedly. 

I let my eyes run around the group once more, the hodgepodge of personalities seem to coexist is a natural nature I've never seen from a group before. Each one seeming to compliment another, the group more tight knit than most I have ever seen. The pure definition of chosen family. When I zone back into the conversation, they are making bets of if their friend Bucky is even going to show.  

"He is definitely coming," Steve assures the group, rubbing at the crease in his forehead. He looks tense, like he is trying to convince himself with his words. 

"I doubt it. You know he never leaves his apartment," Sam counters. 

"Shall I get another round?" I ask, placing each of the empty glasses on the tray. I am looking for an escape from what seems to be a tense conversation forming. 

"Yeah, I'll come with you!" Scott smile, looking a little uneasy about the group conversation. We walk back to the bar, Scott following close behind me until I round the corner.

"Same thing? Shots? Or would you guys like something else?" I question, moving each of the empty glasses over to the sink. He orders beers on tap, the local stuff the team came to try. It's apple forward and sweet, pouring the drinks makes me wish I could have one myself. 

"How have you been Scooter? How's your Dad?" Scott asks, plopping himself down one of the tall stools. He shoots me one of those looks, like he is trying to get into my head and dig around. 

"Are you asking or is it just an opener for the question you really want to ask me?" I set two of the freshly poured drinks on the tray before grabbing another glass. 

"Well, I do want to know how you and your Dad are. But I guess I'm really asking, how have you been lately? Any new dreams?" He doesn't quite meet my eyes at the last part, instead opting to look over my shoulder at the rows of liquor behind me. I curse under my breath, wishing my Father had never told Scott about my dreams in the first place. 

"I am doing fine. Dad is still in prison, just where he was when you got out. You know that. But I do get letters and he assures me that he is doing well. He misses you." I tell him, working on the fifth drink. "I still have dreams. Lately, though, it feels like he is coming in flashes and feelings even while I'm awake. I can't shake the feeling of his fingertips on my skin," I shiver at the thought. My voice comes out somewhere between longing and desperate but Scott doesn't let his face faulter. "But I am all good, Scotty, I promise. I just wish I could figure out if there is something more significant here or if I am meant to be tortured by this phantom my whole life," I place the last drink on the tray, smiling sadly at Scott. 

Scott leans across the bar, taking my hand with his. "You know if there was anything I could do, I would," He reassures me, his thumb running over my knuckles. "I know you don't want to talk about it anymore, and I said I wouldn't, but I'm sure if you came by the facility Bruce would run some tests-" I cut him off with a tight squeeze to his hand. 

"Scott, I know you are concerned, and I really appreciate it, but," I shake my head at him, my hair falling into my face, "I am perfectly okay. I don't want to be poked and prodded just to find nothing. Plus, they are just dreams, very vivid dreams," I say in an attempt to sound convincing and I squeeze his hand for good measure, but I know he doesn't believe me. Hell, I don't believe myself.

He drops the whole thing and I pull my hand from his. "Lets get these over to your friends, huh?" I grab the tray and pull it carefully from the table. Scott nods at me, leading the way back to the corner of the bar where his friends sit. When the table comes into view, there is a large man sitting in the chair Scott was sitting in previously. His hair is dark, cut short around the sides but the top is longer, tousled back away from his face. A well worn leather jacket is slung over the back of his chair. 

Scott scoots into the wrap around booth, sitting himself down next to Wanda. I move next to the mystery man, who no doubt is Bucky, the friend they have been waiting on. Scott is to my right. I Bucky's face is obscured by the tray of beers in my hand. I begin sliding each person at the table a beer, the honey colored liquid sloshing around in each of the glasses as they slide across the table. 

I grab the last drink in my hand before tucking the tray under my arm. I turn to look at Bucky, a smile on my face- one that quickly melts into a look of surprise and absolute bewilderment when his eyes meet mine- no one else seems to notice the glint of recognition that flashes through his eyes and mine. The cool blue of his irises send a volt of electricity through me and the beer in my hand quickly slips from my grip, the glass shattering when it hits the floor. 

That shade of blue- somewhere between cerulean and slate- hits me for the first time outside of my subconscious and the color is beyond entrancing. Everyone around us seems to jump and begin asking if everything is alright, but I am stuck in the depths of his eyes and the way they seem to glimmer in the low amber light of the bar. 

He looks at me too, in a way no one has ever quite looked at me before; like he could see right past the flesh and blood of my being, straight into my soul. A small smile blooms over his lips, dusty rose and plump. I drag my bottom lip between my teeth as my eyes dart back up to his. 

Scott grabs me around my upper arms, moving me a couple of steps back away from the broken glass that now decorates my floor with sharp slivers. 

"Scooter, what the hell was that?" He asks me, stepping into my field of view, blocking Bucky and I's shared eye contact. "You look like you've seen a ghost!" 

"More like a dream," I whisper, "Maybe a nightmare."

[buckrecs]

2022 Bucky Barnes Fic Rec 5

masterlist | req masterlist

All of them are COMPLETE Series.

✨ - fav fics

Status - Completed

1. I Remember All of Them by @tuiccim

Bucky x Agent!Reader

After Hawkeye’s retirement, you are assigned to the Avengers as the new sharpshooter. You form a special friendship with Bucky but when friends turn to lovers Bucky suddenly turns cold. Were you just another conquest of Bucky Barnes’ or was something deeper at play?  

2. Eye For An Eye by @sinner-as-saint

CEO!Bucky x Reader

Battered and bruising, Y/N is out to seek sweet revenge from a man, James Buchanan Barnes, who tore her family apart 10 years ago. Y/N’s plan was simple; infiltrate his life, mess with his head, toy with his heart and leave him broken. Headstrong, she will stop at nothing, not even when it comes down to her being the villain in her own story...

3. Little Lavender Friend by @thepsychewrites

Roommate!Bucky x Reader AU

The stories and encounters you and Bucky face as roommates, best friends, and eventual lovers.

4. Tempestuous by @sinner-as-saint

King!Bucky x Reader

With his kingdom flourishing in peace, and no threats from enemies; recently crowned King - James Buchanan Barnes sets out at sea. With his finest ship, the best crew ever recruited, and a deep desire to see whether the edge of the world truly exists; the King sets sail. Hoping to find the marvels of the ocean, to find beauty and magic even; however he ends up finding a fiery soul – one he cannot get enough of. But then again, no love story is ever perfect, is it?

5. Can’t Fight the Feeling by @sidepartskinnyjeans✨

Bucky x Agent!Reader

After the second snap the world rejoices at the return of their friends and family. But for the Avengers their home is destroyed. Steve and Tony move the homeless Avengers back to the Avengers Tower. With only a few usable floors they're paired up to support each other from the shock of returning and the changing world. Some are happier with their room allocation than others. Can you and Bucky make it work?

6. Nothing to Despair by @bvccy

Soft!Dark!Bucky x Reader

Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.

7. Soldat by @the-fallen-nightmare

Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader, Slight Steve Rogers x Reader

Captain America and Reader have worked together at SHIELD for over a year. What happens when they have a run in with The Winter Solider and Steve finds out the secret Reader had been hiding from him all this time? And what happens when reader is captured by Hydra and The Winter Soldier, again. Can she make Soldat remember her or is her life with Steve just a slow fading memory now?  

+ Soldat Trilogy

8. pansies, pain and other things about bucky | sex and sage flowers by @bucky-bucket-barnes

Bucky x Enhanced!Reader (2 parts)

You and Bucky are begrudgingly paired on a mission together. This is less than ideal considering neither of you are too keen on the other tagging along. All goes as normal until a surprise attack severely hurts both of you. Feeling incredibly guilty, Bucky helps you tend to your wounds. He has trouble admitting it, but he wants to make sure you’re safe.

9. Mr. Grumpy by @holylulusworld

Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Bucky hates omegas. You change his mind.

10. Picture Perfect by @writingsoftheloser ✨

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

When Steve asks his collegue to be his fake girlfriend, she accepts, thinking nothing could really go wrong. Then, she meets Steve’s best friend.

11. Show Me Love by @lenavonschweetz

Professor!Bucky x Reader

Where sex-on-legs Dr. Barnes is your History professor that makes it impossible to pay attention in class.  Perhaps it’s the danger of it all, but god help you - you can’t stay away.

12. Siege of the Heart by @world-of-aus

Chubby!Bucky x Reader

With a ring burning a hole in his desk, bucky begins to have second thoughts

14. Bucky Barnes | 2 by @assembletheimagines

Dad!Bucky x Reader (2 Parts)

Bucky Barnes, the winter soldier, a ghost story, deadly assassin and-

15. All We See by @kiritella

Bucky x Reader

You’re the person Bucky goes to for a breath of fresh air, the one who’s smile is the brightest, the one that has the softest voice.  You are sweet and kind, something he is falling for a little more every day, but you have someone, and he respects it...what happens when he finds out your special someone turns out to be a monster you can’t seem to get away from?

16. Deception by @avecra

Mob!Bucky x Stark!Reader

Growing up in the dark business your father ran, violence wasn’t new to you. Rivalries and bloodbaths were something you unfortunately were used to. And in order to save your father from an unnecessary fight, you force yourself into an arranged marriage with Brock Rumlow. But when he threatens your father over a small mistake on your part, you find yourself in front of your husband’s biggest rival and your old friend, Bucky Barnes. With the shared history between the two of you, Bucky finds himself drawn to you once again, and will risk everything he has just to keep you safe.

17. Радость моя (+7 series) by @assembletheimagines

Dad!Bucky x Reader

Bucky being a dad.

18. The Light We Lost by @world-of-aus

Mob!Bucky x Reader

James Buchanan Barnes had been it for you, and you wanted to believe that what the two of you had, was you making it. You wanted to be the other side of the statistics that actually made it, but your marriage wasn’t meant for this life. You fought hard to make your way back to him, to get him to see you, but life had a funny way of kicking you down when you were already down.

19. Typo by @shurisneakers ✨

Doctor!Bucky x Reader Social Media AU*

What happens when he texts the wrong number and suddenly there are memes and friendships involved.

*I’m not sure if I should put this as Social Media AU so tell me if I’m wrong plz😅

20. Bucky and the Bed by @that-damn-girl

Bucky x Agent!Reader

You and Bucky are stranded in the middle of a snowy nowhere when there is an 'electronic blackout' during your mission. With no back ups or any way to contact your team, you take refuge from the worsening weather in the only cabin you find  in miles. Not to mention, with no power, Bucky's become your personal heater and there's only one bed.

21. drifting by @real-jane

Bucky x Reader

bucky saves the life of a woman when she's buried in an avalanche. faced with the possibility that his cover might be blown, bucky must keep the woman alive, and try to keep her from finding out who he is... or what he's done.

22. My Favorite Flower by @theyoutubedork

Bucky x Florist!Reader (2 Parts)

Bucky goes to your floral shop to get flowers for all the unsuccessful dates he’s been on. Soon, he only goes to buy flowers for an excuse to see you.

23. Misfire by @shurisneakers ✨

Bucky x Reader

The four times Bucky tries to ask you out and fails.

24. Project V by @babyboibucky

Bucky x Reader College AU

You ask your best friend Bucky a favor of a lifetime.

25. The Only Exception by @whitestarbucky

Bucky x Reader Soulmate AU

Humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves. A lesson that taunted Bucky Barnes his whole life. Perhaps it was why he refused to believe in it. He couldn’t afford to. Then you came into his life to challenge his fears to their deepest degrees, not once, but twice. Whether he liked it or not.

26. Untouchable by @dreamwritesimagines ✨

40’s Bucky x Reader

What happens when Bucky Barnes falls in love with someone he shouldn’t have?  

27. I Want to Hold Your Hand by @thismustbefakeme

Bucky x Reader

Set after TFATWS. Reader is part of the Newly appointed Captain America's growing team. Reader has had a crush on Bucky and vice versa. When they finally admit their feelings...shenanigans ensue.

28. obsidian by @bentobarnes

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

you and bucky lead a peaceful life after the big battle with thanos but what happens when one day everything starts getting a little big stranger?

29. home for the holidays by @classylo

Roommate!Bucky x Reader

your mom had been pestering you for weeks about coming home for thanksgiving and bringing along the boyfriend you've kept secret for so long...

30. 10 Signs an Introvert Likes You by @andyl394 ✨

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Bucky wasn’t the type of guy to show his feelings and neither were you the one to notice subtle things, until you come across this video; A guidance that may help you discover rather The Winter Soldier likes you or not.

31. Blink Twice by @simmerandwrite

Bucky x Reader

It was just an undetermined amount of time in a safehouse with a stranger: Bucky “I didn’t come here to make friends” Barnes himself. Would it really be all that different from your lonely life with your cat in the city? Bucky was basically a cat, anyway. He was quiet on his feet, only really made noise when it was dinner time, and you both seemed to just coexist without acknowledging each other. His mandate was to keep you safe. What could go wrong?

32. face the sun by @buckys-darling

King!Bucky x Queen!Reader Royal AU

To ensure the prosperity of their two kingdoms, a determined Princess and reluctant King are to be wed. She is willing to commit, but he can’t seem to let his lover go.

33. Don’t Say Anything by @cumonbucky

Bucky x Reader

You finally decide to tell Bucky that you’ve been in love with him since the day you met but what happens when you walk in on him with a girl? And not just any girl; Natasha.

34. Love At First Grade by @buckysimp101

Single Dad!Bucky x Single Mom!CEO!Reader

When father and first grade teacher Bucky Barnes ends up with Avery L/N in his class, the daughter of the “ruthless” CEO of L/N Enterprises, he's in for a surprise that's sure to change his life.

35. Seventy Years by @writingcroissant

Bucky x Reader

You were with Steve in the Hydra Valkyrie when it crashed into the Arctic. 70 years later you wake up in an entirely new world and have to find out a few heartbreaking details from your past. It’s hard to find your bearings in the world that’s so different than the one you’re used to and just as you think you finally managed to find your way back, a certain someone unexpectedly returns. But he’s not the guy you used to love.

36. The Friendly Wager by @justsomebucky ✨

Chef!Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet  another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical  weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there  more on the line than reader cares to admit?  

37. Love or Hate by @justsomebucky

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

When the reader’s shot at a better life is stolen from her, she  continues to see the person responsible all over town. Will she learn that there’s a fine line between  love and hate?  

38. all you need by @traitorjoelite

Publisher!Bucky x Author!Reader

just after finishing college and your first novel, you meet bucky barnes - a friend of a friend, a publisher, and hopefully something more

39. Bucky’s Got Game | Doc’s Got Game by @real-jane ✨

Bucky x Doctor!Reader (2 Parts)

Bucky's got a crush, and Sam's a little worried about whether or not he's gonna see it to fruition.

40. The Holiday Hack by @gogolucky13

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party.

41 The Quest For Love by @sgtjbuccky

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Work has always been a priority for Bucky, leaving things like love long forgotten, and for him it’s no problem, but for Sam and Steve it is the biggest problem to grace this earth. Fed up with Bucky and his constants protest and avoidance of love, they set him up on a series of dates to find the girl of his dreams with the help of the magical spirit of December. Only for Bucky to realize that love isn’t always found where one goes looking for it, but may be close by.  

[thatfanficstuff]

Open Wounds - 21

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x soulmate!reader

Warnings: killing and stuff. a bit darker chapter. 

A/N: I’m still here I swear. Just...struggling to get shit done. 

It was a calculated risk.

A loaded gun weighed more than an empty one. Everyone knew that. And Hydra trained you to know how many rounds were left in a weapon from the weight alone. And this one was lighter than it should be.

And this scientist, this doctor, was one of Strucker’s favorites. It was evident in the way he spoke to her. He respected her. Would he really put her at risk? You doubted it. And if you disobeyed, if you fired at him with an empty weapon, you were done. Finished. Dead. And no one would be left to save your Bucky. Not that you’d even get the chance to pull the trigger. He clearly had the remote to your chip in his pocket, his hand wrapped tightly around it. He’d used it on you too many times for you not to recognize it by now.

But still, your hesitation had been you calculating the weight of the gun. Of running the probabilities through your head. The weapon you aimed at the doctor was empty. You’d bet your life on it.

And you would have lost.

The bullet pierced the woman’s skull and her years of ivy league education sprayed across the equipment behind her. Her body crumpled to the floor leaving behind another motherless child in the world. Even as shock slammed through you, you forced your face to remain blank and your hand steady. Fuck, fuck, fuck. They’d done it. He’d done it. Turned you into what he wanted you to be. A cold-blooded killer. Asshole.

Strucker pulled the gun from your grasp and your gaze finally shifted to him. He studied you for a moment with a pleased gleam in his eye. Finally, he looked at the corpse at his feet. “If I thought for a moment you’d actually do it, I would have chosen a different sacrifice. Dr. Gannon had an incredibly creative mind. In fact, it was she that came up with your current experimental regimen.”

Well, fuck her then. You clenched your teeth and closed your eyes as the thought passed through your brain. That wasn’t who you were. That was Hydra filling you with vitriol.

He shrugged and turned back to you. “Pierce will be unhappy but bringing you back under our control will outweigh the loss of the doctor.” He leaned forward until his mouth was but a breath from your ear. You fought the urge to flinch away. He lowered his voice so his words wouldn’t be picked up by the cameras in the room. “And where Nicto goes, Soldat will follow. And you will know that you brought him to us.”

It took everything in you not to react. Not to attack as he most likely expected you to do. He straightened and looked you over once more. Your gaze remained focused on the mess you’d made of another human being rather than the devil that made you do it.

“Prepare yourself, Nicto. This is only the beginning.”

Once again the Avengers found themselves in a meeting room talking about you. This time they were joined by your father and your best friend.

“Antonin Sergei,” Tony said as a photo of a sharply dressed old man appeared on the screen behind him. “Drugs, guns, you name it, he sold it. Single bullet to the brain. Witnesses put our girl on scene.”

Bucky clenched his teeth together and tapped his thumb on the table. His skin itched, felt too tight. They’d had meeting after meeting about where you might possibly be and were no closer than they were when they raided the wrong base all those weeks ago. Where were you? Why couldn’t he find you?

“Why would Hydra want this guy dead? Seems like someone right up their alley,” Bruce asked.

Clint shrugged. “Competition, maybe?” His gaze shifted over to Wade. “Didn’t you say something about them hiring her out?”

“Rumor had it she was available. Haven’t heard about anyone actually taking them up on it though. Could have just been talk. Hydra getting the word out she was back.”

“This is the third time in as many weeks she’s been sighted at a crime scene. It may be time to consider the possibility they’ve turned her,” Steve suggested, his voice soft but firm. Bucky barely resisted the urge to punch him.

“Impossible,” Phil said as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Look, I get that you don’t want to believe it but this is what Hydra does. They can turn even the strongest willed amongst us. I mean look at Bucky.” Sam gestured with his hands to emphasize his point.

Bucky shook his head and cleared his throat. “You don’t understand. It’s not denial, it’s a fact.” He raked a hand through his hair. “She has some sort of gift, ability. She inherited it from her mother. They can’t fuck with her brain like they did mine. Even when she was a kid they couldn’t make her into what they wanted.”

“So maybe she flipped sides of her own free will,” Tony said with a shrug. “I like the girl but if she’s been out in the field, surely she had a chance to escape and didn’t. Maybe they made her an offer and she took it.”

In a flash, Wade was out of his chair with a katana pointed at Stark’s neck. Bucky blinked in surprise. What the fuck?

“Take it back,” the merc ordered.

Everyone remained quiet and still, not wanting to irritate Wade any further.

His gaze narrowed when Tony just stared with wide eyes, his hands lifted in a gesture of surrender. “I said take it back,” Wade ordered again and pressed the blade closer to the billionaire’s throat, nicking the delicate skin. A thin line of blood ran down the length of his neck.

Bucky stood and clamped his hand on Wade’s shoulder before pulling him back to put space between the weapon and Stark’s neck. “Easy, Wilson. Tony didn’t mean anything by it. He’s just spouting shit as usual.”

Tony frowned. “Hey.”

Clint shook his head. “Not the time, Stark. Let it go. You knew you were going to piss people off and said it anyway.”

Wade grumbled but sat back down. “Only because it’s you asking, buttercup.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Where the hell did you have that thing hidden anyway?” He’d been sitting beside the merc for over an hour and hadn’t even spotted it.

Wade grimaced. “You don’t want to know.”

“What is it, Nat?” Clint asked, interrupting the chatter going on around the room and thankfully taking Bucky’s mind off Wade’s hiding place.

Natasha hadn’t uttered a word through the whole meeting. She’d simply sat observing everyone else and taking in the reports. Now, she wore a smile that Bucky had rarely seen.

“Spit it out, Romanoff,” your father ordered when the assassin took a beat too long.

Her gaze flicked from him to Stark. “You said she was seen three times?”

Tony frowned as he held a handkerchief to his neck. He nodded and pressed a couple of buttons on the keyboard in front of him. The three scenes replaced the old man’s face on the screen.

Nat’s smile widened as she looked between Clint, Coulson, Wade and Bucky. “She was seen.”

It took Bucky a moment longer than it should have to understand what she was telling them. You had too much training and were far too good at what you did to be seen if you didn’t want to be. The others figured it out at almost the same time.

It was your father that spoke for all of them. “She wanted us to know she was there. She must have left a message or something. We need to see those photos, Stark. All of them from all three scenes. There must be something there.”

Stark nodded, forgetting about his neck as he got caught up in the new mission. He swept a hand from his screen out toward the room and everyone’s tablets dinged as they received the information. “Jarvis, do some analysis. See if you can find any sort of message from Coulson Junior.”

“Of course, sir.”

The room was silent as they poured over images searching for anything out of place. Anything that might lead them to you.

Nearly an hour passed before the AI spoke again. “Analysis of the areas surrounding the three scenes in question has led me to discover the following.”

Three images of poorly done graffiti flashed on the screen. “It was far enough away to not be tied to the crime scenes but close enough she could have easily accomplished it while on her assignment,” Jarvis explained.

“It just looks like a mess to me,” Sam admitted. “What am I missing?”

Red outlines appeared around the letters hiding in the graffiti before spelling them out below. Belarus. Bucky was on his feet as hope surged through him. Its not like he could go after you right at that moment, but he couldn’t stay seated. Not when they had their first real lead to your location in weeks.

“What do we know about Hydra activity in Belarus?” Steve asked.

“I have already analyzed that as well, Captain. I believe Miss Coulson to be at the facility located here,” Bucky’s favorite AI stated before showing a map with a mark near the northern border of the country.

Bucky’s gaze found your father only to find the man already looking back at him. “I can have the bus ready to go in thirty.”

Bucky grinned. “I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

The Color of Blood

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, mentions of blood, cursing

Word Count: 2,608

Summary: In this world, a person didn’t discover color until they locked eyes with their soulmate. As an agent of SHIELD, finding your soulmate was hardly a priority. Especially since you were currently dealing with the shocking discovery that HYDRA had been pulling the strings behind SHIELD actions this entire time. Life was all about timing, and you were about to find out that your timing was absolute shit.

You shifted in the seat uncomfortably. Natasha, to your right, shot you an apologetic look, but it was hardly sincere considering the smirk she wore. You had drawn the short straw, so you were sitting bitch between her and Agent Sitwell. More like Agent Judas. You were still in shock that an organization you had dedicated most of your life to had actually been HYDRA infested this entire time. Of all the missions you ran, you wondered how many had been fueled by HYDRA’s goals and desires. It physically hurt your heart to linger on that thought.

“HYDRA doesn’t like leaks.” Sitwell snapped as he leaned towards where Sam was driving. His thigh pressed up against yours and you were not discreet in shoving him off you.

Sam shook his head, eyes on the road, “Then why don’t you try sticking a cork in it?”

“Insight’s launching in 16 hours.” Natasha chimed in and you glanced down at the watch on your wrist.

You bit back an aggravated groan, “As per usual, we’re cutting this save the world thing kind of close.”

“That does seem to be our style.” Natasha hummed from beside you.

Steve glanced back with a nod, “We’re gonna use Sitwell to bypass the DNA scanners and access the helicarriers directly.”

“What?!” Sitwell shoved forward and you had to physically resist throwing his limb off of you. “Are you crazy!? That is a terrible idea.”

“Look, Sitwell--” You snapped in anger, but the low thud of something hitting the roof of the car made you pause as everyone’s eyes shot up. Seconds later an arm smashed through the backseat window, grabbed Sitwell, and ripped him out of the car. You turned just in time to watch a large truck smash into the man. The arm disappeared from view and you heard the familiar sound of a gun. “Nat!”

Your old friend was already ahead of you. She leapt forward, into Steve’s lap, as a bullet fired down into the backseat to your right. Natasha called out your name, but just like her you were already moving. You reached up front grabbing Sam’s shoulder. A bullet fired toward Steve, Natasha yanking him forward and out of the way, and another was fired at Sam, but you were able yank him to the side so it hit the headrest.

Steve reached out and slammed the emergency break bringing the car to a screeching halt. Natasha rolled off Steve onto the floorboard and your own head slammed forward into the edge of the seat. It caused you to bite down on your lip hard, and when you brought your finger to your mouth a warm liquid coated your fingers.

People told you blood was red, and you weren’t entirely sure what that meant, it wasn’t something you could picture, but the shade of gray on your fingers was immensely familiar to you. Over the years, you had become well-versed in that particular shade of gray.

All eyes looked forward as the man on the roof, who had flown off, managed to flip over and land with ease. His metal fingers digging into the asphalt bringing up bright sparks. He slowly stood up, and you only hesitated for a second before pulling your gun out of your holster and aiming it forward. Before you, or Natasha, could get a single round out, something slammed into the back of the car forcing you forward again as glass exploded behind you.

“Fuck!” You barked in both jarring surprise and pain. You managed to keep your hand on your weapon as the car slid forward, but the Winter Soldier leapt from the road and landed back on top of the car. Sam slammed on the brakes, but it only filled the air with the sound of squealing tires since the men behind you were still ramming into your car. You turned and fired a round of shots, but not a single one pierced the bullet proof glass.

When you turned to reload, you watched as a metal hand crashed through the windshield, grabbed the steering wheel, and ripped it out. Sam leaned back in surprise and barked, “Shit!”

Natasha, who got a hand on her weapon again, fired rounds into the roof while you struggled to get a new clip into your gun. The Winter Soldier jumped off the roof and onto the front of the car behind you. Finally reloaded, you began to turn so you could fire, but the truck slammed into the car again and suddenly the car spun sharply to the side.

It was going to flip.

Steve realized this the same second you did, and he caught you off guard when he reached into the backseat, his fist tightly bunched into your shirt, and ripped you into the front seat.

“Hang on!” He yelled and the next moments were a blur. The kind of blur you assumed only a super solider would be able to follow. One moment you were in the car, and the next you were lying on Steve’s chest, beside Natasha, with Sam pressed on top of you. Sparks flew around the group of you as the car continued to roll, while the car door slid along the road. It all happened in seconds, and it couldn’t last. Sam slipped off first, rolling off to the side, and you were the next to fall off while Steve and Natasha continued to careen down the road.

Your body slammed into asphalt hard and the world around you spun a few times as you rolled along the hard surface. When you finally stopped it took a second to catch your breath and gather your bearings. Despite the pain, you pushed yourself to stand. Sam was off to the side, in good enough condition, and hiding behind a car. Up ahead were Steve and Natasha.

The truck stopped and you watched in shock as the Winter Soldier was handed a grenade launcher. A curse was half out of your mouth as you realized you had lost your gun in the fray and the Soldier fired his own weapon. Steve threw his shield up in time, but it hit him dead on and sent him flying back. Steve clipped the hood of a car, flipped over, and then disappeared off the side of the bridge.

Natasha’s eyes caught yours and you nodded once. Years of working together meant words often weren’t needed. She’d be on the bridge with Sam, you needed to cover Steve. Gunfire filled the air as you sprinted to the side of the bridge and jumped. When your feet left the concrete, you fired a zipline from the gauntlet on your wrist that dug into the concrete and rappelled you down just slow enough that you didn’t end up a smudge on the ground.

Steve had been thrown into a bus that now sat on its side. You unclipped the used cord and sprinted to the front of the bus. Screaming and gunfire still filled the air and you helped a few people near the front of the bus out of the vehicle while telling them to run to safety.

“Steve!” You yelled and ducked under the broken glass to get into the bus. You spotted the blond lying on his back slowly shifting up and made your way toward him. Each person you passed you dragged up and told them to run. “Steve!”

You grabbed his shoulder and helped him sit up. He grunted in pain, “Nat and Sam?”

“On the bridge, last I saw.” You replied. “Shield?”

“Lost it on the road.” Steve motioned to the front of the bus, “Get out. Get everyone on the street to safety. Now.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You turned and climbed out of the bus back onto the street. A familiar face ran past you on the other side of the street ducking behind cars. Natasha. That meant Sam was up there alone? You didn’t have time to linger on the thought. You ran forward and began to herd civilians out of crashed cars and down the street. The slamming of another car made you glance back to see the Winter Soldier land harshly on the roof of a car under the bridge.

Bad sign. Very bad sign.

Heavy artillery fire echoed behind you and you moved even quicker. As you sprinted down the street looking for Natasha with the Winter Soldier slowly stalking down the road towards the two of you, you spotted a small group of people huddled behind a car off to the side. You veered off the road to them.

“You can’t stay here, it isn’t safe.” You barked and began to drag them down the sidewalk. A car exploded into a ball of fire behind you. Shit, he was close. You ripped your jacket off, wrapping it around your arm quickly, and then slammed your elbow into the glass on a storefront door so it shattered. You reached in to unlock it, then herded the people inside, “Get all the way to the back and stay hidden!”

You dropped your jacket and didn’t bother picking it back up. Instead, you took off again knowing Natasha would be facing the Soldier alone if you didn’t get there in time. As you sprinted around the corner you spotted Natasha jump onto the Winter Soldier’s shoulders. She used a cord to try and choke him out, but his arm stopped the move entirely. You ran in, without hesitation, and slammed into the Soldier’s back with a grunt in hopes it would jar him enough that Natasha could get a grip. She managed to tighten the hold just a bit, but a thick leg kicked out, backwards, and the asset’s boot slammed into your chest sending you sprawling back and into the side of a car.

With a cry of pain, you fell forward onto your chest. You desperately sucked in a sharp breath, trying to regain the air you lost, and as you shifted to try and get up you felt your entire body ache. The ribs on your right side were broken, you recognized that pain. Natasha must have gotten thrown off too, she was across the road, and she gave you the signal to retreat before throwing a widow bite onto the Soldier’s arm.

Despite the pain, you sprinted toward her and as the Winter Soldier slumped over to try and regain control of his arm, you and her ran down the side road. This one was still crowded with people who were too panicked to listen when you told them to get the hell out of the way. Luckily for them, unlucky for you, it seemed the asset’s main focus was on the two of you.

A shot rang through the air and Natasha cried out in pain while stumbling forward. You cursed and grabbed her, pulling her behind a car, while she tried to refocus through the pain. A through and through bullet wound. Right shoulder. “Shit.” You mumbled again and pressed down on top of her hand that was already on her wound. That same familiar shade of gray leaked over both of your hands. “It’s bleeding too much.”

“Get the hell out of here.” Natasha hissed.

“No.” You snapped. “Not without you.”

She whipped around to look over her shoulder in panic, and when you followed her gaze you watched as Steve sprinted out of nowhere to attack the Winter Soldier. The metal arm punched out against the shield, like the ringing of a gong, and you breathed a quick sigh of relief.

“We gotta go. While Steve has him distracted.” You looped her arm around your shoulders and began to drag her away. Natasha began to complain through grunts of pain, but you didn’t slow down or argue with her. In a matter-of-fact tone, you spoke, “I’m getting you to a safe spot and then I’ll help Steve.”

You got her to cover behind a van, and ignoring her yelling after you, ran back out to where you had left Steve. When you got back, Steve was just standing there. The Winter Soldier stood between the two of you, facing Steve, but all you could see was the look of disbelief on your friend’s face.

What the hell was going on?

Why had the fight stopped?

The Soldier raised his gun again, Steve was still frozen, but you only got another step forward when Sam dropped from the air from your right and kicked both his feet into the asset. The Winter Solider went careening to the side as Sam landed. Now you had him surrounded, Steve to his right, Sam in front of him, and you to his left. You stepped forward with arms ready for a fight. Did you think you could come out of a tussle with the Winter Soldier alive? Absolutely not. But, you could keep him from escaping past you while the others closed in.

Sirens could be heard in the distance, the asset stood back up from where he had fallen and you realized now you could see his face. He no longer had the mask on, and he was… vaguely familiar? Where had you seen that face before? Before you could ponder a second longer on that, his glaring eyes dragged from Steve to Sam and then from Sam to you. The moment your eyes met his though, it felt like your world had fallen out from under you.

Shades of gray and black turned brighter and with every blink something new flooded your senses. It was too much all at once. Your once bleak world exploded with color and you sucked in a sharp breath as your arms fell to your side. In fact, you were so distracted by the vivid scenery around you that it took you a few moments to realize the cause of this had been the Winter Soldier. HYDRA’s number one asset. The man who had been trying to violently murder all of you less than thirty seconds ago.

If the Soldier was surprised, you didn’t see it. He suddenly lunged to the left just as something hit the car behind him sending it up in flames. A grenade. You had been just a bit too close and the force of it sent you sprawling back. The back of your skull bounced off the asphalt and suddenly the oh so colorful world seemed to be spinning. Dazed, you stared up at the sky.

The blue sky.

Your hand reached back to touch the warmth dripping from your head and when you shakily brought you hand back into view, blood coated the fingers. Red blood. Oh.

So, that’s what red looked like.

Still stunned from the blow, you struggled to sit up, but you were only a few inches up off the ground when someone grabbed you and threw you over their shoulder. The movement made your world spin again and you groaned out in pain as you hung limply over the broad shoulder that was now carrying you. You heard your name being called out, but sounds were beginning to grow dim. Replaced with ringing.

“Steve?” You mumbled in hopes. He had broad shoulders. Maybe he was the one carrying you away. You blinked your blurry eyes a few times as they briefly came into focus as you stared at the back of the person carrying you. Black leather. Steve hadn’t been wearing black leather. The ringing grew louder as your eyes fluttered close. Your entire world went black before you could connect the dots on what was happening.

[next chapter]

[elissanatok]

﹒•˒⟿⭒「𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐄 ❞」ʿʿ ⟿☼

↳✉⭒˞˔˙ː❛ -ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡?✹⋮

◌༄۵ !𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝗎 !

!𝚂.𝚁. //𝙱.𝙱.// 𝙿.𝙼. //𝙿.𝙿. !

𝖱𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗋𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍. 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗐𝗁𝗈, 𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈, 𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖱𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍??? 𝖶𝖾𝗅𝗅 – 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗅𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗁𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗂𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 – 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 – 𝗅𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝖾.

When I was a little girl, the world seemed brighter. The sun seemed to be a little lighter and more blinding. I remember my mother holding my hand tightly while she dragged me up the streets of San Francisco, because my father didn't bother picking us up at the shop after we went grocery shopping in July. I was sweating, something I still hate, and I realized that I wanted my father to be nicer to my mom. To be nicer in general. But I never witnessed that. Even after my brother was born, the only thing he would do was sit in his office and stare at his computer. He made call after call. It took my mother a while to find out that he was cheating on her, but it didn't even catch her of guard.

Three months later we were living at my grandmothers house, much to my mothers displeasure. She had a nice garden tho. After they got into a fight we left again in the middle of the night, just to go back to my father. I hated it.

My parents were never soulmates. They weren't meant to be and even if they tried to be, it always ended in tears and us moving.

I remember when I hugged him for the last time. The smell of coffee clung to him like I always thought only cigarettes could. I loved his coffee scent. Even if its fucked up, it always reminded me of home, a save place. But when he finally left, leaving us in the three bedroom flat, I knew it was the last time I would see his face.

Twelve years later my father sent me a postcard from Italy, saying he found his soulmate in his hometown. I didn't tell my mother and I didn't answer him. My mother was the one who deserved to have a love like this, someone to love her always, not him.

Twelve years later my father was probably still a dick.

Now, sitting at the new oak kitchen table my mother invested in, I couldn't imagine him here with us in New York. I couldn't even realize the fact, that we moved or that I still had to unpack. My eyes drifted to the boxes all around the room. We were just to unmotivated to unpack.

My mother went out to take a look at her new restaurant and my brother Charlie didn't bother looking up from his physics book, reminding me of the fact that if I wanted to graduate this year, I had to find a tutor. Of course, I could always ask my brother, but the little ego I had left couldn't die for my grades.

I yawned as I looked out of the window. It was raining and if it kept raining I would have to rethink the outfit I planned to wear to school tomorrow. If  I would even be able to find anything in those boxes. Stretching, I took the last sip of the hot choco I had left and clapped my hands, trying to motivate myself an maybe my brother. But neither worked.

ʿʿ ⟿☼

One hour later, y/n and Charlie were still doing nothing. Well- y/n was sketching her brother, who was studying and nipping on his drink every Minute, but to Caroline St. Lorenz they weren't really doing anything helpful – like unpacking.

"What are you doing?", she asked the moment she let the shopping bags fall onto the leather couch. "Learning.", Charlie answered without looking up, while his sister painted a gentle smile on her lips. "What did you buy?", she asked as she stood up and walked towards her. Of course she went shopping for decoration even though they didn't even unpack. "You know... stuff.", Caroline mumbled after releasing an exhausted breath. "Cool"

"You didn't even start. Why does it always have to be me who's supposed to do the shitty stuff?", she whined and let herself plop next to her bags on the couch. "Because we're helpless without you.", y/n whined in the same tone and looked around the flat.

It was big, definitely bigger than their last, but Caroline's cooking has gotten pretty known in the last years. Her restaurants had many locations and her name was well known. The lamp above Charlies head looked expensive, but not as expensive as the vase on the dresser. "Can't you just- ya know – call someone to do the job?", Charlie asked, looking slightly up from his book. y/n cracked in the matter of a second and fell into a loud laugh when her mom looked over the back of the couch and asked if she looked like a fucking mafiosi.

"Maybe.", her brother whispered, poking his tongue out at his sister the moment their mother looked away.

y/n sighed. 12 boxes for the kitchen and the living room, 10 for her mothers room and each 8 for the siblings room. She really didn't want to. And by the looks of it, nobody else wanted to unpack either. "Sooo- we aren't gonna do anything about the chaos?", she asked. Her mother opened her eyes. "Not if you're not gonna make the start."

Sighting again, she stretched, ready to do something, but deciding to start in her room. She had to set some priorities.