#james is also here technically

[moulinruno]

It was a demon- well, that's how he interprets it.

[courfee]

oby jeggy is a different kind of dsfkdsf so here is them from the first fic in that series, i will touch you with my mind by my love @itsjaywalkers

[bruhstation]

steam team's seniors during their baby years

A friend group so weird and toxic to people they dislike it could rival It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia’s. They're not immune to the "I came to Sodor to avoid my problems and wanted a fresh start" trope many Sudrians also follow

Edward Pettigrew

Age: 31 as of 1984

A kind, friendly NWR railwayman who didn’t mind a lot of things and was popular amongst younger folks for his looks and demeanor. He likes showing newbies the ropes of the NWR and Sodor as a whole because he just loves infodumping. Despite being made fun of by some railwaymen for his “weirdness”, Edward worked hard and was known as the jack-of-all-trades by his peers, usually treating younger and newer railwaymen to drinks after work to get them accustomed to Sodor (he did this to Henry, then Gordon, then James). Originally from the village of Pezë in Tirana, Albania, 1940s. Due to his beginnings in a small rural village and the Albanian government’s censorship of outside influences and heavy restriction of traveling outside the country, Edward’s hunger for knowledge about the world grew more and more. His family had connections to the Lëvizja Nacional-Çlirimtare and Edward’s particularly bright and good at talking, so he became a diplomat to travel outside Albania – a step into his plans of learning more about the world. After landing himself in the United Kingdom and studying everything he wanted, he believes it’s still not enough. He found out about an island infamous for its supernatural occurrences and cases of people missing just off the coast of the UK – Sodor. Being the curious man he is, he discarded everything that’s needed for the LNÇ to locate him and landed on Sodor, gorging himself with every mystery the island has to offer. Impulsive? Yes. But for the first time, Edward felt true freedom. However, Edward got too curious and nosy and became a casualty in an accident fueled by supernatural hysteria related to Lady of the Legend and was transported around 40 years into the future, landing in 1983 with his memories all over the place. Despite losing his sense of self and having no idea what he is, his thirst for knowledge still lives on inside his head. His cheerfulness, amicability, and kindness are extensions he formed to make up for the hole inside his heart. Edward does love his friends, but he believes that if he can withhold information from them and make them all live in blissful ignorance, they can be truly happy – this all stems from his fear of exceeding his limits and being discarded (which he later copes by being a typical wise friendly old man in 1999). He often sees visages of Lady in his dreams.

Gordon J. Gresley

Age: 26 as of 1984

Joined after Henry. Looked like he was fresh out of a funeral. A young hotshot who was more polite, quiet, and reserved compared to his 1999 counterpart. Gordon started out as an apprentice fireman for the Wild Nor’Wester’s previous driver. He treated his arrival on Sodor as a desperate last resort to escape his issues and grief and pitifully believed he was “lumped with the social pariahs in the boonies”, but he’s gotten better and believed that this is where he can truly outshine everyone, much to the annoyance and chagrin of his seniors. Gordon acts like he knows what he’s doing in order to build up his image as someone who’s dependable and strong and revels in small basks of limelight. However, he was constantly uncomfortable with how Edward treated accidents as normal due to their survivors being in tip-top shape the next day and how Henry is so distrustful of and odd about everything and everyone and sweats 24/7, but he’s been masking and convincing himself that he’s not like the rest of them. He’s normal. He’s normal! Let’s all hold hands. Don’t be fooled by his sad face. Young Gordon can be arrogant and think he knows everything for being a youngin.

Henry Stanier

Age: 27 as of 1984

Joined after Edward, so he’s quite close to him. Gordon’s “senior” by 6 months. He’s always, ALWAYS scared endlessly about anything “out of the ordinary” and beats himself up over it, much to his own disgust. Henry had a deep rooted hatred and jealousy towards his peers for pitying him after a coworker revealed to other railwaymen that he’s narcoleptic without his permission. He’s been masking his disabilities despite it being detrimental for his well-being, but as long as people treated him “normally”, Henry would endure (dreadfully). He did this especially with Gordon, the newest addition to the Northwestern Railway at the time, because he didn’t want anyone else to treat him differently when they find out about his health issues. As an extention, Henry developed a vitriol towards Gordon too – he’s particularly jealous about how he’s so “ungrateful” of everything’s given to him like his fair looks, clothes, and position as the to-be face of the Wild Nor’Wester. They did become friends though despite the process not being easy. It’s okay. They became besties that were mean to old nosy folks. Initially wanted to pursue arts, but due to circumstances from his past related to his health and paranoia fueled by his past failures and “jinxes”, he came to Sodor as a half-hearted last resort to get a job. He wasn’t hopeful of having anyone respect him for who he is, but things do get better, much to his surprise.

James A. Hughes

Age: 25 as of 1989

Joined the NWR 5 years after Edward did. At that point, Gordon already discarded his GNR Green look and went for the blue attire (minus the big coat). Flaunts his beauty almost at any given time, especially when someone mildly complimented him. He’s more of a nerd (word used loosely because he acts like a know-it-all when he actually has no idea what he’s doing) compared to his canon, 1999 counterpart. James came to Sodor for a fresh start and believed he deserves more than what he’s given. He thinks he’s so tough and hard as nails – in fact it became his source of hubris because he gets into accidents and was scolded by his seniors for being so vain and stubborn. He doesn’t want to get dirty, he doesn’t want to shovel coal, he doesn’t want to get wet from the washdown suds – he only wants the good out of the work and doesn’t want to accept the “bad” sides as well, so James was branded as the “problem kid” of the NWR by older folks. James, who can’t handle harsh criticism and labels well, grow even more distant with them. He primarily hangs out with the RWS trio because they seem to understand his situation and the feeling of being “outcasted” (despite Gordon’s annoyance at his boastfulness). 

[artsandstoriesandstuff]

Ellie and Garcia Aesthetic Swap......

(Reblogs are appreciated!!!)

[christiangeistdorfer]

JAMES HUNT and technical director HARVEY POSTLETHWAITE at the 1975 BRITISH GRAND PRIX

[frostiecake]

POV: you get cornered by a cat while fixing some guys’ sink

[james-stark-the-writer]

doomed by my hubris (turned in a paper that used an expression at the end that is antithetical to my point in the paper and i forgot to double check if it meant what i thought it did and now it seems like i'm insulting the book i worte the paper on)

[brokenhardies]

Life on Mars? - Parent & Adopted Clone Child

template by @/chaos_skeletonz on instagram

Taglist

@darth-caillic​ @sterling-writes​ @wonderguards​ @reirvival​ @arrthurpendragon​ @foxesandmagic @eddysocs @superspookyjanelle (want to be added or removed? send an ask or a dm!)

[rosemaryhoney27]

Gotham's sunshine child part 4

“No One Tells the Sunshine Kid Anything”

Danny Fenton prided himself on being unflappable.

He had died once. Literally. Been half-ghost for years. He could walk through walls, disappear, fly, and fight beings made of fire, rage, or raw existential dread. He had babysat Ellie, his chaos clone-little-sister, through her “I can fly and you can’t stop me” phase.

But nothing—nothing—prepared him for the sight of his own face plastered across the top of an official-looking document on Bruce Wayne’s desk, next to the words:

“Adoption Petition: Daniel James Fenton.”

He stared at it.

Then stared at Bruce.

Then back at it.

Then he panicked.

“You—you can’t just adopt me!” Danny yelped, his voice cracking spectacularly.

Bruce blinked up at him from his desk with the calm of a man who had faced both clowns and demigods before breakfast. “Technically, I can.”

Danny looked like he might faint. “Wh—why would you—? I’m not—You’re a Wayne! I’m not a Wayne! I’m barely a Fenton! I eat cold pizza off library radiators and wear socks that don’t match! I have a hoodie made of duct tape!”

Tim leaned in from the doorway, sipping coffee. “That hoodie has structural integrity, man. Honestly, I’m impressed.”

Danny pointed at him with wide, betrayed eyes. “You knew?!”

Tim shrugged. “I helped with the paperwork.”

“TRAITOR!”

Bruce held up a hand. Calm. Gentle. Fatherly.

“Danny,” he said. “This doesn’t have to be anything more than what you want. You’d have a roof over your head. Legal protection. Access to our resources—”

“I phase through roofs. I don’t need a roof!”

“Then think of it as a...very big ceiling with heating.”

“That’s worse!”

Alfred arrived mid-meltdown with tea and what he claimed were “emotion-calming biscuits.” Danny took three. Out of spite.

“I don’t need to be adopted!” he snapped, halfway through a butter cookie. “I’m fine!”

Jason walked past the study, heard that, and turned on his heel.

“No, you’re not,” he said, stepping into the room. “You fell asleep outside last week because you gave your blanket to a stray dog.”

“The dog was cold!”

“You were shivering in a bush!”

“...It was a warm bush.”

Jason just stared at him.

Dick flopped in through the window upside down.

“We’re not doing this because we think you’re helpless,” he said, casual as a cat. “We’re doing it because Gotham chose you, and so did we.”

Danny looked between all of them. “…You conspired.”

“Yup,” Damian said, finally entering with a folder. “Here are the signed statements from three soup kitchens, a youth center, one angry barista, and a biker gang requesting your formal protection and adoption. The barista threatened to withhold caffeine from Father if he did not comply.”

“I—what?!”

“They also gave me a sticker,” Damian added, pinning a “SUNSHINE CHILD DEFENSE SQUAD” badge to his tunic.

Danny’s eye twitched. “I’m going to implode.”

“Already did once,” Tim muttered.

“YOU’RE NOT HELPING.”

Danny sulked on the couch for two hours with a cat in his lap and five Wayne kids hovering around him like worried bees.

He didn’t leave.

Eventually, Bruce sat beside him with quiet patience and said, “You don’t have to be alone, Danny.”

Danny stared at his mismatched socks.

“…I don’t know how to do any of this.”

“You don’t have to,” Bruce replied. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Danny opened his mouth, closed it again. Then, voice small:

“Can I still keep my hoodie?”

Jason snorted. “Kid, we’re not monsters.”

The next morning, Gotham woke to news headlines:

“Bruce Wayne Adopts Local Teen Hero ‘Sunshine Kid’” “Gotham’s Favorite Child Now Officially a Wayne — and Somehow Still Humble About It” “Criminals Warned: ‘Touch Him and Face Gotham’s Wrath’”

Danny groaned and buried his face in the mansion couch.

“Why are there stickers with my face on them?”

Barbara, voice chipper: “Because you’re adorable and Gotham is proud.”

[sortagaysortahigh]

Juno | James 'Bucky' Barnes

A/N: Heyyyyy, here's part 2 to Lovefool, can technically be read as a stand alone if you're a fluff kinda person. This is the most fluff I've written in YEARS, some angst is thrown in as well! They're getting MARRIED! ugh my babies <3, also writing joaquin was so much fun in this fic, love his comedic timing as readers bestie! Anyways I hope you all enjoy! This is definitely also named after the sabrina carpenter song, so just GUESS WHERE THIS FIC GOES. Also everyone say thank you to @love-chx for beta-ing most of this, and to @anxietyandtacos for encouraging my bs <3

Summary: In the early stages of your relationship with Congressman Barnes, you swore he was kidding anytime he mentioned the idea of being his wife, however, it is apparent that he wasn't kidding. It's also obvious that there's nothing more that you want in the world.

Warnings: 2nd PERSON POV, use of Y/N, spelling and grammar errors fr (I am who I am), angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of bucky sleeping on the floor, mentions of insecurities, mentions of vomiting/throw up, pregnancy (AHHH), cursing, anxiety, Joaquin being an amazing bestfriend (he's so annoying i lvoed writing him), kissing, SMUT: unprotected p in v, praise kink if you squint, choking, smacking/spanking, spitting, squirting, somewhat rough sex, BREEDING KINK, wife kink, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), creampie, getting absolutely railed fr, honestly theres not a ton of smut but it's there fr and they're freaks.

Word Count: 14.8k Part One

Congressman!Bucky Barnes x Secretary!Reader

UGHHHH LET ME AT HIM GOD DAMNIT IM FERAL!

The past eight months have been a whirlwind. 

In the early stages of your official relationship with Bucky, you swore he was kidding anytime he mentioned his ‘bright idea’ of you being his wife rather than his secretary. 

He was still a Congressman and you were still his bossy secretary, but behind closed doors, you were much more than that, and the both of you were irrevocably in love with one another.

It was obvious that you two were more than just professionally involved. Bucky would pull you closer to him in large crowds, his arm wrapped around your waist as if he was safeguarding you from the public. You’d both hold hands on your walks through Capitol Hill, and he’d even pull you into shaded areas to plant quick kisses along your jaw and neck, a series of giggles leaving your lips accompanied by ‘Bucky! Stop it’. 

Not to mention the way he’d sit back and let you speak during committee meetings, not a single argument or glare exchanged between the both of you.

Some journalists even reported that he’d been doing a much better job as a congressman, stating that it was clear something had changed in his life that brought Bucky more satisfaction and genuine joy. That joy clearly spread into all aspects of his life—publicly and privately.

You also didn’t shout at him as much. Sure, you’d still argue with him, and in the first few months of dating, it was obvious that you knew how to separate your professional relationship from your romantic one, but that didn’t stop him from fucking you in his office or workspace in both D.C. and Brooklyn. 

That usually only occurred after an argument on the principle that Bucky knew how to put you in your place. He’d always known, but prior to being romantically involved with you, he would’ve never crossed that boundary.

Slowly but surely you’d let your guard down, easing into being in a publicly known relationship with him. There was still an element of controversy surrounding dating your boss, but the bits and pieces of media coverage on the two of you focused on your relationship prior to his Congressional career, then segueing into the career, and even focusing on the future regarding the New Avengers.

Truthfully, Bucky didn’t care about what the future held, as long as you were with him. He even considered running for re-election after you helped him get his first major bill passed that addressed homelessness in New York and other major urban metropolitan spaces.

You moved in with Bucky one month after the night of the fundraiser. It made sense to live with him—he had two residencies, one in New York and Washington D.C., and you were pretty much always with him regardless. It also alleviated the financial stress of paying rent in two different states. 

Plus you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy being around him all of the time. Especially when your predominant residence was in New York, and now it was with him in a cozy apartment in Brooklyn. Although his lack of furniture in his Brooklyn apartment was shocking.

You were used to seeing his furnished apartment in D.C.. Sure, you knew that it came furnished, but you thought with him having the same place of residency in Brooklyn for so long, that he’d have more than a worn couch and a few bar stools. His bed also looked almost untouched, as if he never slept in it.

Then two weeks into living with him, you found out that he didn’t sleep in his bed. 

The two of you would usually go to sleep at the same time and you were always a heavy sleeper, so when you’d wake up in the morning and he was already up brewing coffee, you didn’t think much of it.

Not until the night that you’d woken up around two in the morning from a nightmare. You jolted out of your sleep, eyes wide, hand to your chest as you caught your breath. Then you looked around the room, squinting, eyes adjusting to the darkness as you used your right hand to feel around—looking for Bucky.

He wasn’t there. 

You thought that maybe he was in the bathroom, so you waited a few minutes, grabbing your phone from the bedside table, looking at the time, letting a few minutes pass as you read through the missed texts from your group chat with Joaquin, Kate, and Peter.

After ten minutes had passed and he didn’t come back, you got out of bed, wrapping a blanket around yourself as you padded out of the room, down the hall a bit, noticing there weren’t any lights on, and into the main living room space. Then you saw him, the faint yellow glow from the overhead stove light illuminated the space just enough for you to make out the sight of Bucky on the floor, his head against a couch pillow, and your thin pink throw blanket overtop of his figure.

You were confused at the sight of him on the floor. 

He clearly wasn’t sleeping peacefully, not when his chest was rapidly rising and falling and a sheen layer of sweat coated his skin. It was evident that Bucky had been tossing and turning, the sheet beneath him wrinkled and tangled around his lower body.

The sight of him like that made you tear up. You knew he still dealt with the nightmares, he’d told you about it a few weeks ago, said that they weren’t common anymore, but they hadn’t exactly disappeared overnight.

Bucky had spent a while in Wakanda working on coping with them as well. Once he was finally free of the Hydra brainwashing, it had gotten easier to manage the nightmares. He knew grounding himself usually helped, but after seventy years of being tortured, brainwashed, and constant cryopreservation, sleep didn’t come easily. 

You slowly kneeled beside him, placing one hand on his chest, and the other gently caressing his face as you whispered, “Buck, baby it’s me.”

He stirred at the sound of your voice, taking in a deep inhale while squeezing his eyes a bit tighter, then slowly opening them. His eyes met yours in the dimly lit room as he blinked a few times, adjusting to the light.

“You weren’t supposed to know about this,” his voice was groggy, laced with sleep as he whispered. His vibranium hand met yours on his chest, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You sleep like a rock, didn’t think you’d find me this soon.”

You shook your head, sniffling slightly, bottom lip quivering a bit as you tried to hold in your tears. “I don’t like seeing you like this Buck.” You slowly moved your thumb along his cheek, caressing it ever so slightly as he leaned into your touch.

“I should’ve told you, I know.” He sighed, taking the chance to wipe away a few of your tears. “It’s hard for me to fall asleep sometimes, it’s just easier on the floor—bit of a bad habit.” He wasn’t telling you everything, and he knew you saw right through his bullshit.

You nodded, leaning closer to him, kissing him slowly, sincerely, pouring every emotion into the moment. He easily kissed you back, hand now on the back of your neck as you focused on deepening the kiss, tongue sliding along his bottom lip.

Bucky pulled away first, blinking a few times while looking at you, faces inches apart. 

“This your plan? Kiss me until I feel better?” He was clearly joking, but it came off a bit harsh. It wasn’t that he was upset with you for finding out, he didn’t know how to cope with someone caring so deeply about him. Even in the dark, he could see the emotion and concern evident on your face. Your heart was practically racing, and it was clear that he was making you upset.

“No, actually, I was gonna kiss you until I felt better. Don’t think there’s anything I can say to convince you to come back to bed.” You sounded so defeated.

He felt as if he’d broken part of your heart.

“Doll, I’ll come back to bed with you.” His voice was soft as he spoke, peppering kisses along your cheek and jaw. 

You shoved him back a bit. “Not if you think I’m forcing you to come. I just want to know that you’re alright, if you’re more comfortable out here, that’s okay with me—it just hurts to see you like this. To know that you’re still dealing with the nightmares and that I can’t help fix it.” You sounded so small, eyes leaving his to look down at your intertwined fingers.

He lifted your intertwined hands, kissing the back of your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m coming back to bed with you, won’t sleep out here anymore. It’ll just take some getting used to ‘s all.”

You nodded your head, still avoiding his gaze, feeling as if you were pushing him, pressuring him into something that he didn’t want to do. This wasn’t work, it wasn’t something that you could fix for him or something you could save him from. All you could do was be there for him, and that in and of itself wasn’t enough for you.

But it was more than enough for him.

Bucky took the time to stand up, pulling you up with him, then he was grabbing the throw, tossing it onto the sofa before picking you up bridal style. He kissed the top of your head as he made his way back to the bedroom, placing you down onto your side before climbing back onto his.

It wasn’t that the bed was uncomfortable, quite the opposite really. Especially considering you’d added two mattress toppers to it, claiming that you needed to ‘sleep on a cloud’. Then, with you next to him, it added another element of comfort that he hadn’t anticipated. 

Maybe his problem was that the bed was too comfortable. 

He felt too safe, and that scared him. It terrified him. He hadn’t gone a single night feeling nothing but comfort in decades, and so, each night for the past two weeks, after you’d fallen asleep, he’d ease himself out of your hold, and snuck away, finding familiarity in the discomfort of the hard wooden floors.

That familiarity also welcomed the nightmares in a way, he hadn’t had them much anymore, but maybe it was the fear of him hurting you that had the negative memories and emotions resurfacing. Bucky knew that it also had to do with his own personal fear of being genuinely unlovable.

He was scarred, physically, mentally, and emotionally, and he was very self-aware of that. He’d managed to land the woman of his dreams, but he thought you could do better, that you’d be a better fit for a man that hadn’t been through hell and back, someone who wasn’t scarred and jagged.

The two of you laid in silence before you finally turned to face him, shifting even closer, slipping your leg between the both of his, one hand on his abdomen while you propped your head up with the other arm, now looking at him in the moonlight.

“Tell me how to be there for you,” your words were quiet, but they were full of emotion. You needed to be there for him, you wanted nothing more than to show him how much you truly cared for him.

He bit his bottom lip, gaze leaving the ceiling, eyes landing on you. “You already are there for me.”

His response made you blink a few times, brows knit together, “Then why are you leaving in the middle of the night?”

“Because I’m afraid of hurting you.” There was so much raw emotion in Bucky’s voice as he spoke, he’d never been more sure of anything. He was terrified of hurting you, terrified of showing you the worst parts of himself, terrified that you’d leave the second you got to see who he truly was.

You shook your head, “You’d never hurt me James. I know that. I trust you with my life, I don’t think I’ve ever trusted or loved someone more than I trust and love you.”

Bucky smiled, eyes tracing every detail of your face, you’d never looked more serious.

“I don’t care about your scars, physically, or metaphorically. I want to be there for you, I want you to let me in, I want you to know that I’m here—I don’t want you leaving in the middle of the night when I’m asleep—” your voice cracked “—I love all of you. I want you to know that you’ll never, ever hurt me. Even if you did hurt me, I’d kick your ass.”

You sniffled again, blinking away your tears, “If I have to tell you that every night, I will. I love you—all of you.”

That night was the first night that he’d slept in his bed in years. 

Every night following, he was in bed, right beside you. Even when he’d wake up in the middle of the night in a harsh panic, you were right there, right beside him, curling into his side, whispering sweet nothings to him, calming him down and reassuring him. 

Even on days that you two would fight over work, you never went to bed mad at one another. It was an unspoken rule, someone had to swallow their pride and apologize, going to sleep upset wasn’t an option. 

Your shared bedroom was a place of peace, a place of genuine solace for the both of you.

If you hadn’t already been in love, two months into living with one another, you and Bucky were definitively truly, madly, and deeply in love.

James Barnes proposed to you six months ago, on a rainy day in D.C. under the awning outside of 54 after carrying you in his arms while sprinting through a storm.

The neon glow from the signs in the window reflected against your skin in a way that made his breath hitch and head spin. You looked so beautiful, splotches of color along your damp face as you looked at him with a wide smile, followed by a series of contagious laughs and giggles at the sight of his soaked attire. 

The umbrella he’d brought had broken when a large gust of wind hit, leaving the both of you to sprint to your destination, or rather, he picked you up bridal style and ran down the block until you were both fully shielded from the rain.

Both of your outfits were soaked, your hair was a bit of a mess as you scooped it into a claw clip, and he had to shrug off his suit jacket because the material was weighing down on his shoulders. 

He hadn’t planned to propose at that moment. Bucky actually wanted to propose to you by the Cherry Blossoms. He was going to wait a month until they were in full bloom, but he always carried the small red heart-shaped box in his pocket, squeezing it slightly anytime he felt anxious or irritated.

In a way, it grounded him. The thought of you grounded him.

But you looked so beautiful and joyous in that moment. He couldn’t help himself.

You were utterly confused as you watched him get down on one knee, your brows knit together as you glanced around, trying to figure out if maybe he’d dropped something, or if he was trying to adjust his shoe. Then you glanced through the window of the restaurant, watching Ms. Minh’s eyes widened as she shot up from her seat behind the counter.

You were too focused on her actions to notice Bucky placing his briefcase on one of the chairs outside of the restaurant, then fishing through his pocket for the ring box. Ms. Minh was quick to grab her phone, holding it up as if she was recording something while rushing through the front door and standing a few feet away from the two of you.

Then, you were looking back at Bucky, confusion quickly shifting into shock as he ran his hand through his wet hair, looking up at you, then with one hand he opened the heart-shaped ring box where a beautiful golden ring with a princess cut diamond sat. 

“Bucky what are you doing?” You tried to laugh it off, biting into your bottom lip as you stared at him.

He smiled at you, icy blue eyes full of nothing but pure adoration and love.

When Bucky said your full name—middle name included—your jaw dropped, this was really happening. He was actually proposing to you.

“I’ve loved you since you kicked my ass on top of a moving vehicle in Germany when we were both technically war criminals—” You laughed, shaking your head, eyes welling up with tears. “—and I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you and everything about you. I love your good qualities and the uh—not so pleasant ones—” He laughed a bit while shaking his head. 

“I’ve lived a thousand lives and the one thing that I’ve ever really wanted is to spend the rest of my life with you by my side. So, will you do me the honor of marrying me?” He watched as you sniffled, nodding your head, red teary eyes blinking several times as if you were trying to stop crying. 

Then you gave him your left hand, and he slid the ring onto your finger.

“I’d be an idiot to say no to you James Buchanan Barnes.”

He was off the ground in seconds, right hand intertwined with your left as he pulled you into a kiss. His left hand on your cheek, gently caressing your face while he kissed you under the awning of the Vietnamese restaurant that you two had been frequenting for years. 

The first place that you’d genuinely bonded at was now the place you’d gotten engaged at. It made you laugh, smile, and cry as you kissed Bucky under the old rusted awning. The world around you frozen, and in that moment, all you cared about was James Buchanan Barnes.

Breaking the news of your engagement to everyone had been stressful to say the least.

Sam was the easiest person to tell, he was already in D.C. on base, so when you strolled into his office at the Airforce base with Bucky in tow, he was somewhat surprised. You’d visited the base a few times in the past, having the top secret clearance to do so, but never with Buck.

You sighed, hoping that Joaquin would’ve been there, but you knew he’d probably cry so maybe it was better to wait on telling him. 

“Care to explain the impromptu visit? I know this isn’t to talk about anything work related—we already had that call this week. So, what’s going on with Capitol Hill’s hottest couple?” He wiggled his brows, looking between you and Bucky. Your arms are crossed in front of your chest, hands tucked into your sides as if you were hiding something.

“Don’t tell me you’re here with bad news.” Sam clearly braced himself, jaw clenched as he took a deep breath. “Okay, lay it on me, I’m ready.”

You couldn’t hold your laugh in as you elbowed Bucky, smiling up at him before approaching Sam. When you were a few feet away you paused, now leaning against Joaquin’s messy desk, looking around at his different trinkets and small gifts that he’d clearly gotten from his girlfriend.

Then, you glanced back at Sam. “I’m pregnant with Joaquin’s kid.” You deadpanned.

Your poker face had Sam in a clear panic, and that made you crack as you shook your head. “I’m kidding! Sam please! Oh my god!—” Then you looked over at Bucky who was shaking his head, hands in his pockets “—told you it would get him! Dinners on you tonight, Congressman,” you winked at him.

Sam had a hand over his chest as he caught his breath, a disappointed look on his face as he spoke, “Don’t do that shit to me again! You had me worried that Bucky was here to kill Joaquin. Or even worse, you were in a weird throuple and I’d never hear the end of it! You know he never shuts the hell up!”

You were smiling, shaking your head at Sam, then you glanced over at Bucky before nodding. He walked towards Sam, handing him a smaller blue box with a velvet finish.

Sam raised a brow, taking the box, then walking towards his desk, taking a second to open it, seeing the silver custom watch sitting in it, followed by the small folded note. His eyes widening as he read it, gaze snapping to yours, then Bucky.

“Excuse me? Be your best man?! You two are engaged?!” he smiled as you flashed your left hand.

“So, what do ya say? Will you be my best man?” Bucky smiled as he asked Sam, who pulled him into a hug immediately.

“Of course I’ll be your best man, what the hell kind of question is that?!”

Telling Joaquin wasn’t easy, not when he’d found out from Sam first and had blown up your phone in the middle of the night, calling you six times before you finally answered him, a bit hazy from being asleep.

Your head was still resting against Bucky’s bare chest as you held the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“What the hell do you mean hello?! You’re engaged and I had to find out from Sam?! What kind of best friend are you! Have you no shame?! I get it that Sam’s clearly the best choice for his best man! But you didn’t think to tell me first?!”

He was moving a mile a minute, practically yelling into the phone. From your end, you could picture him pacing back and forth in his girlfriend’s apartment, phone in hand while you were on speaker.

“Joaquin, it’s like two in the morning—can we talk about this tomorrow?” 

He scoffed. “Talk about this tomorrow?! I was overseas in Cambodia on some mission with Sam, just for him to ask me if I was part of your wedding party on our flight back? Y’know he made a joke about me being your maid of honor! I was so confused! Then he lays it on me that you’re engaged!” 

You sighed, Bucky now stirring from his sleep at the sound of Joaquin’s voice. He wasn’t on speaker, and he was still the loudest in the room.

Then you sat up, now placing him on speaker after realizing Bucky was awake. “To be fair, I tried to tell you the day we told Sam, but you weren’t there. If I’m not mistaken, you were out living your life with your girlfriend. Who by the way, shouldn’t you be with right now? Instead of shouting at me at 2am?!”

Joaquin clearly let out a ‘tsk’ sound, and based on the silence following, you knew he was rolling his eyes. “I am with my girlfriend thank you very much, and she agrees that you were wrong as hell not to tell me!”

In the background you heard the muffled ‘No I didn’t say that! I said you were overreacting! He told his best friend first, she just happened to be there with her man!’. Followed by “Seriously baby?! Whose side are you on! Hers or mine! I’m the one who’s been wronged here!”

Bucky sat up next to you, rubbing one of his eyes as he processed the sound of Joaquin’s voice in the room. “Hang up on him.” 

Joaquin gasped again “Seriously Bucky?! Now you’re saying to hang up on me! I have every right to be offended right now! Besides, it’s not like I called at five in the morning!”

You sighed, pinching your nose bridge while taking a deep breath. You looked over at Bucky who was shaking his head, glancing from the illuminated phone screen to you. 

“What time is it, Sweetheart?” His sleep-laced voice made you smile, but he was clearly glaring at your phone, considering going to the base in D.C. next week and kicking Joaquin’s ass.

“It’s 2:33 in the morning. Also, Joaquin, just because you didn’t call at five doesn’t make it any better. You know damn well I’m asleep by one!” You yawned, rolling your shoulders back, scooting a bit closer to Bucky who was now sitting up and leaning against the headboard. He wrapped an arm around your waist while you rested your head against him.

“Okay but I couldn’t wait! What was I supposed to do?! Not sleep and be bothered all night by this betrayal!” 

You groaned again “Joaquin, can you go to bed, or go eat something, or go have sex?! Please, get off of my phone right now before Bucky kicks your ass the next time we see you.” 

Bucky laughed at that, the low rumble in his chest vibrating against you. His chin now resting on the top of your head slightly. 

“Wow! So this is it, huh? Now you’re hanging up on me?...Baby you’re being dramatic, let them go back to sleep. I don’t think you’d win a fight against Bucky Barnes…So now you’re doubting me too?!” Joaquin sounded hurt as he gasped, and you knew for a fact he had a hand over his chest right now, jaw dropped, and brows knit together while he looked at her.

“Goodnight Torres. I’ll call you tomorrow.” With that you hung up the phone, ignoring his protests before double checking that your phone was set to ‘do not disturb’.

“What the hell is wrong with him?”

You laughed at Bucky, shaking your head before moving to face him, planting a firm kiss to his lips, then straddling his lap. One hand on his jaw, the other on his shoulder as you smiled at him. “Since we’re awake, you wanna kill some time?”

He nodded his head, pulling you into another kiss as you rolled your hips against him.

It’d taken two days for anyone and everyone to find out that you were engaged. Joaquin sent an over dramatic text about how hurt and heartbroken he was in your shared group chat with Kate and Peter. Peter replied with a quick ‘That’s great! Congrats!’ 

Kate had also called, but she was squealing in excitement for you. Then Kate told Yelena, and she’d sworn to you that she had her girlfriend promise not to tell anyone else. That promise clearly didn’t apply to her father, who called you from Yelena’s phone to give you a long winded speech about how happy and proud he was that you were getting married.

He’d even thrown in a few bits and pieces about how strong your children with Bucky would be, and how ecstatic he was for the wedding. Which you hadn’t even started planning yet, and he volunteered to help plan it, stating that he was an excellent decorator and knew his way around a good celebration. 

After Alexei’s phone call, you received several texts from unknown numbers, which were also followed by everyone stating their names, and adding you into a group chat titled ‘The New Avengers’. It included Yelena, Bob, John, Ava, and Alexei. They’d mentioned that they had tried to add Bucky, but he left each and every time.

From there, it all spiraled. 

Eventually you’d gotten a call from Clint, who you hadn’t spoken with in years following his somewhat psychotic break during the Blip when he decided to be a hitman assassin to grieve his family. 

You’d even gotten a video call from Thor Odinson himself, who was squinting at the large screen, calling you through one of Bruce Banner’s intergalactic communication devices that you only had access to at the Avenger’s tower. 

He was all smiles and laughs, telling you how happy he was to know that Bucky would be marrying ‘such a beautiful human!’ You hardly knew the God of Thunder, so to say it was strange was an understatement. But you did find out that Thor was a lot friendlier than expected, and that he was really sweet, and had a daughter! 

Bruce and Thor had spent more time talking to Bucky and looping Sam into the call as if it was some kind of reunion. 

The weirdest call you’d gotten was from a talking raccoon, some guy named Peter Quill, an alien woman with antennae, a large blue man, a talking tree, and a blue cyborg woman. Bucky had to spend an hour explaining how he knew all of them, and he even mentioned something about giving his previous metal arm to the raccoon as a Christmas present.

The next few weeks passed by in a blur, with an ongoing impeachment trial, several rising intergalactic threats, and a constant debate on the sanctuary agreement regarding Celestial Island, the last thing you and Bucky had time to think about was a wedding.

So you focused on work, at least you tried to focus on work until Joaquin had practically broken your door down on a Tuesday afternoon, bursting into the penthouse with the box that you’d left on his desk two days prior.

He didn’t bother acknowledging you and Bucky’s closeness, the both of you sitting on the sofa together, your legs in his lap as you read off important bullet points in preparation for tomorrow’s major Foreign Affairs Committee meeting. He nodded his head as you spoke, answering and asking questions, ensuring he knew his stance, and knew it well.

“What the hell?! You guys didn’t even bother to call me about this—” He held the forest green box up. “I haven’t been in the office in a few days! I was busy running drills with Sam! He didn’t even tell me you dropped this off?! You mean to tell me you want me in your wedding party?!” 

You and Bucky both stared, shocked expressions on your faces as the two of you stared at Joaquin. How did he even get a key to the penthouse? You had no idea. Should you have expected him to barge in as if he owned the place? Absolutely.

“Oh shit—one second I forgot my girl’s coming up!” he rushed back towards the door, opening it again, looking down the hallways “—Baby speed it up! I didn’t mean to ditch you! I was excited!” 

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Bucky leaned closer to you, whispering the question.

You laughed at him, shaking your head, “I told you, Quino’s special. There’s a reason he’s my best friend.”

Then Joaquin was back in front of you both, this time with a girl beside him. She had an awkward smile while she waved at the two of you.

“For the record, he dragged me here. We were supposed to be going to get dinner, he said this was a pit stop.” She said her name, glancing at Joaquin who was now pacing back and forth, holding the card that you’d left in the box, a long hand-written note on it with a major question on the bottom of it. 

You smiled, introducing yourself to her. “So you’re the doctor right? Tell me, what motivated you to choose Joaquin of all people to be in a relationship with? He’s uh—well. He’s who he is.” 

Joaquin gasped at that, now looking at you, then at his girlfriend, then back at you.

“Okay! Let’s not make this into the Joaquin hate club. I came to say that I’d be honored to be your Man of Honor! Kate and Peter are gonna be so jealous! Oh my god! I love you guys so much.” He smiled, nodding his head, eyes clearly tearing up at the sight of you and Bucky together.

You shared a look with his girlfriend, who now made herself comfortable on the other couch, shaking her head while she watched Joaquin’s emotional moment.

“Can I just say, I always knew you two were perfect for eachother. Even though you still intimidate the hell out of me Bucky—can I call you Bucky? Well, it’s too late, I already did so here we are. Wow. You two are a beautiful couple.” He sniffled, wiping away a stray tear. “I always told her to just jump your bones man, she used to angry text me everytime Mel would breathe in your direction. Oh by the way, Kate told me to tell you that Mel said congratulations! She tried to text you, but I guess you blocked her.”

You shushed Joaquin, jaw clenched and eyes wide as you slowly looked over at Bucky, whose brows were both raised, and you knew he’d be making fun of you for that later.

He then moved around the coffee table, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug, then he hesitated when he looked at Bucky. Against Joaquin’s better judgement he also pulled Bucky into a hug.

The shock on Bucky’s face had you bursting into a fit of laughter, then you nudged him slightly with your foot, laughing even harder as Bucky awkwardly hugged Joaquin back.

“I love you man. We’re family now.” 

You blinked a few times, looking at Joaquin. “We’re not even related?” 

He shushed you “We don’t need to be related! You’re like a sister to me! I love you! We’re family god damnit! And as your man of honor, we need to start planning your wedding. I’ll call you tomorrow. Lots of details to sort through, and don’t even think about wearing a black dress. This isn’t a goddamn funeral.” Then he looked back at his girlfriend, “Okay baby, thanks for stopping by with me, we can go now—also you guys know a good place for dinner around here?”

You and Bucky shared a look, and a smile, speaking at the same time “54.”

Once they were gone, you sighed, placing your laptop on the coffee table before stretching.

“We really do need to start planning our wedding,” Bucky spoke as you yawned, his hands massaging your feet. “I’m thinking we should get married in the late Winter, January sounds nice.”

You blinked a few times “Buck, January’s less than a year away…you really wanna get married that soon?” your brows knit together as you waited for his response. Eyes trailing along his features, watching as his brows knit together, then he rolled his lips inward, nodding a few times.

“If it was really up to me we’d go to the courthouse tomorrow. But I know you want a dramatic wedding.” He sounded so serious, and that had you moving across the couch, pulling him into a frantic kiss. 

“We can get married in January—hell December if we find a place.” Then your lips were back on his, hands in his hair as you kissed him until you were lightheaded.

Planning a wedding was a level of stress that you hadn’t fully anticipated. Sure Joaquin, Kate, Peter, and Yelena were helpful when you needed them to be, but you were quite the Bridezilla. It wasn’t even a purposeful development, you just wanted the day to be perfect, to the point that you’d argued over the kind of chairs at the wedding venue. 

Peter and Joaquin had gone with you to tour venues, and you settled on a renovated winery. It was a beautiful building in Upstate New York, each and every single detail had you in love. From the custom woodwork along the walls, to the stained glass windows, to the field of iceland poppies outside, all in full bloom during the peak winter months with a thin layer of snow around them.

Picking the venue was just the first hurdle, you also had to figure out a color scheme, find the right kinds of flowers, pick the song for your first dance, find someone to walk you down the aisle, and focus on not murdering Joaquin everytime he made a suggestion you didn’t agree with.

Then, there was the issue with finding a dress—something most brides-to-be did first—but you were dreading it. Mostly because you thought you’d never find the perfect dress, or maybe the dress would be perfect to you, but Bucky would hate it and think you looked like a sack of potatoes, and suddenly he’d be running away and leaving you at the altar. 

So what if you were being dramatic? Picking a wedding dress is difficult.

That didn’t stop everyone from ambushing you, letting you think that you were all going to lunch together, instead you ended up in a bridal boutique in Manhattan. They practically dragged you into the shop when you refused to go, more specifically, Peter and Yelena had dragged you inside while Joaquin and Kate cheered them on.

Three and a half hours later you’d tried on sixteen dresses, some too big, some too small, some too short, some too tall. 

You felt like a children’s book.

At least you did until the sales associate walked out with a dress you hadn’t noticed prior. You were currently sitting on the ground, brows knit together in frustration while you were practically swimming in a large poofy dress fit for a princess. There was too much fabric, too many sequins, and it was irritating you.

“I like that dress she is holding. It’s much better than the fabric disaster you’re sitting in.” Yelena spoke as she looked at the Ivory dress the associate held. It had a sweetheart neckline and thin off the shoulder straps that would sit perfectly against your arms. The dress was simple, the fabric smooth, bodice fitted, and the skirt flared out.

Honestly it reminded you of a longer pin-up dress without the halter straps.

“Try that one on.” Yelena motioned to the dress, Kate nodded in agreement.

So you huffed, reluctantly following the associate back to the changing rooms, letting the older woman help you out of the fluffy disaster you’d been in. Then she was helping you into the much simpler dress.

“It’s a timeless piece, simple yet elegant, I think your Fiance will love it.” 

You nodded at her as she zipped you up. It needed a bit of tailoring, but you liked it much better than any of the other dresses, and honestly you could imagine yourself walking down the aisle in it.

Kate gasped as she saw you, eyes watering a bit, Peter smiled and nodded his head, Joaquin whistled as he clapped, and Yelena let out a shocked ‘oh my god!’

Once the dress debacle was settled, you had time to focus on planning everything else out. Eventually, after months of stress, arguments, and threatening to kick Joaquin and Kate’s asses, the wedding was officially here.

You were set to get married in six hours.

There were six hours until you’d be walking down the aisle and marrying the love of your life. Even if he was over a century old and could be quite the grouch at times. 

Things were not going as smoothly as they should’ve, not when Joaquin was chasing down the florists, letting them know the arrangements weren’t perfect, Peter was busy with an electrician after he noticed half of the lights in the reception hall weren’t working properly, Kate was going back and forth with the makeup artist, and Yelena had to remind Alexei several times that he was not your wedding’s bouncer. 

There was a distinct list of guests that would be let in, and only some got a plus one. Everyone else who wasn’t supposed to be there, shouldn’t have shown up. Although, it was nice to know that Alexei had taken it upon himself to escort several people off of the property…and to argue with them until they finally left the vicinity.

Your head was pounding and you were fighting the urge to drink until you blacked out.

Getting black out drunk before your wedding is a terrible way to go into a lifelong commitment. 

“Can you leave her alone Kate! Jesus Christ she’s just doing her goddamn job!” Your shout left the room silent. You blinked a few times, processing that you were much louder and meaner than intended.

“Okay, sheesh, I just want today to be perfect for you.”

You sighed at her, shaking your head, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scream at you. I’m just stressed out okay. I’m not feeling very bubbly and happy or however the hell a bride-to-be is supposed to feel. And I’m worried about Bucky, he was so distant last night when we were on the phone. He’s never like that with me. It was all ‘mhmms’ and ‘okay Sweethearts.’ Then I told him I loved him and he said ‘love you too’ but without the ‘I’ and maybe I’m overthinking it, but he never just says ‘love you’.” You took a deep breath, now glancing at yourself in the full-length mirror, running your hands along your robe.

Initially, you were just supposed to be looking at your hair, making sure you liked it. It was the vision that you initially had, large curls and waves, two braids pulled back, hair cascading down your shoulders. The extensions in your head were a bit uncomfortable, but you told yourself beauty is pain. 

You were supposed to have a few blue flowers in your hair, however, they weren’t here, which is also another reason you’d sent Joaquin to find the florist. You hated how the centerpieces turned out, not because the flowers were wrong, but because the arrangement was off, and that was also making you mad.

“I’m having a shitty morning, and has anyone heard from Sam?! Is he even here?” you spoke as you walked towards the seat that you were supposed to be getting your makeup done in. 

“Yeah, Peter said he’s here, you want me to call him?” you nodded at Kate, a silent thank you.

Then you were told to close your eyes and relax. So you sat stiffly with your eyes shut, mind focused on Bucky and why he was acting so off last night.

One floor below where you were, Bucky was. He wasn’t dressed, rather he was pacing back and forth in his dress pants and undershirt, hands on his hips while he tried to remind himself that today was a joyous occasion.

Sam shook his head, watching Bucky pace back and forth. He’d been doing it for about ten minutes now.

“I’m not understanding what the problem is, Buck? You love her, don’t you? Today’s supposed to be a good day for you two, the best day of your life actually.” Sam’s eyes followed Bucky’s movements, studying his figure. It was clear the wedding stress was getting to him. This was a stressful time overall, as he was coming up on the end of his Congress term, and the ongoing public debate about whether or not he would be running for re-election was prominent.

He was also dealing with the stress from being an Avenger, even if he wasn’t in practice on missions. Sam and Bucky had come to the agreement to continue helping one another, and anytime a large threat surfaced on either side, they’d make one another aware, and their teams would work vigilantly.

But this stress—this stress was a different look on Buck. Sam had known him long enough to understand how stress impacted Bucky. He didn’t look irritated, annoyed, or even bothered in the slightest. Instead he looked worried and anxious, the fact that he was pacing back and forth said enough.

“I love her, of course I love her. She’s everything to me, I just—I don’t know. What if this doesn’t work out? Y’know her parents are divorced? Actually, she doesn’t even speak to her parents. What if we both have shit relationship habits that’ll surface when we’re married?”

Sam blinked a few times, brows knit together as Bucky voiced his concerns.

“Or what if we get married, then she meets someone younger, someone smarter, someone better fit for her. Someone without decades of emotional trauma and baggage, someone that won’t wake her up in the middle of the night panicking over something that happened forty years ago?” 

Bucky ran a hand through his hair as he spoke, shaking his head a few times, trying to ground himself, but it was as if he was falling, deeper and deeper into a hole that he couldn’t get himself out of. 

Then Sam’s phone started ringing, his brows knitting together at the unknown number calling. He quickly answered, raising a single brow at the frantic voice on the other end. “Okay…slow down Kate. Jesus Christ? Her too? Okay I’m on the way.” 

Sam sighed. “Listen Buck, you love the girl, you want to spend the rest of your life with her, don’t let some insecurities or fears get in the way of that. She loves you for you, she wants to spend the rest of your life with her and vice versa. I’ve gotta go check in on her as well.” 

Then he was grabbing his things, tucking his phone into his pocket before leaving the room. He knew that there wasn’t a single thing that he could say to Bucky to get the man to relax. This was something that Buck would have to figure out, and unfortunately Sam couldn’t tell him what to think, or give him some best case scenario about today.

Weddings had a way of stressing people out.

When Sam rounded the large stairwell, he spotted Joaquin with a handful of blue flowers. Which gave him an idea.

“Joaquin, I need you to go talk to Buck. Give him one of your classic pep talks, and between me and you—he’s getting cold feet. Go remind him that he’s in love.” Joaquin nodded at Sam, handing him the flowers in hand.

“Give those to Bridezilla, and fair warning Sam, she’s not the sweetest right now.”

They both exchanged a knowing look, one descending the steps, the other ascending.

Joaquin got to the Groom’s suite. He hesitated before opening the door, swallowing, anticipating the possibility of Bucky literally throwing him out of the room. What shocked Joaquin was the sight of Bucky seated on the edge of an ottoman, hunched over slightly, running his hand through his hair while he stared at the handwritten note you’d given him two days ago, telling him he wasn’t allowed to open it up until the day of the wedding.

“Uh—are you alright Bucky?” He grimaced as he watched Bucky sit up a bit straighter, now looking over his shoulder at Joaquin.

“I’ve had better days. Thinking your best friend might regret marrying me one day.” He sounded so defeated as he spoke, now looking back at the sealed envelope, your messy writing reading ‘To my Bucky, Everything that I wanted to say in my vows, but can’t because I’d probably ugly cry’.

Joaquin scoffed, his genuine reaction ruining the pity party that Bucky was throwing for himself. The older man now stood up, letter still in his vibranium hand as he stared at Joaquin who was quick to let himself into the room fully, then shut the door behind him.

“Listen, I know I might be annoying as hell, and I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to about this right now, but Y/N loves you. Like, pathetically so, and I would know because I’m also pathetically in love with my girlfriend. There isn’t a single other person on this planet, or in this universe, or galaxy, hell even in the multiverse that she would rather marry than you.”

He paused for a second, now crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. “She used to text me about how angry it made her anytime you’d even smile at another person when you two were ‘strictly professional’ or whatever bullshit you both told yourselves. She would literally pause whatever she was doing to spam me with angry texts because of how jealous she was that you were giving other people your attention.” Joaquin sighed, shaking his head.

“She literally hates Mel. Like, hates her—like, even after you two are husband and wife she’s never going to like that woman. All because she was there when you answered the phone the first time she’d ever called you about the shady shit Valentina was doing. Y’know she ranted to me for half an hour about the fact that your voice supposedly got softer when talking to Mel? There’s a reason Valentina got an invite today and Mel didn’t.”

Bucky slowly nodded his head, processing Joaquin’s words, stifling a laugh at your undying jealousy. 

“Now, do me a favor and stop getting cold feet before she kills everyone here. She’s terrifying right now, Yelena told me that she yelled at Kate over Kate talking to the makeup artist. Then, she was apologizing profusely for yelling at Kate. It’s like she’s hot then she’s cold and she practically chewed me out this morning because I couldn’t find the florist to find the right flowers for her hair.”

“You really think we’ll last, Torres?” Bucky sounded so vulnerable, and in that moment, Joaquin shook his head, walking right over and pulling him into a bear hug—or rather what would’ve been a bear hug if Joaquin was the same size as Bucky.

When he pulled back, he nodded his head, “I don’t think I’ve ever met two people more perfect for one another. Read her letter. Trust me, it’ll give you every ounce of reassurance you need. I cried when I read it, and it’s not even about me!”

Joaquin sighed, running his hands over his light grey suit jacket. Then he was fiddling with the icy-blue tie. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta go make sure she’s not actively murdering anyone.”

When Joaquin left the room, Bucky took a seat closer to the windows, looking outside at the thin layer of snow covering the valley, small pops of color from the winter blooms peaking through.

Then he opened the envelope, pulling out the note, smiling at the pastel pink paper.

James Buchanan Barnes, your name is a goddamn mouthful. 

But when I’m saying my actual vows, I’ll say it and hopefully I won’t start sobbing. Knowing myself though? I will. I know we’ve only been together for a year, and some people have said it’s stupid to get married this early. But you’re genuinely it for me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt the way you make me feel. You’ve shown me bits and pieces of myself that I didn’t even know about. Sure, you piss me the hell off with your lack of punctuality, and terrible media training, but everything else about you makes up for it.

I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment you smiled at me on that truck in Germany, after I totally whooped your ass, with your bloody smile and terrible timing. You called me ‘Doll’ and I think that moment made me realize that maybe, just maybe, life could be more than just running and surviving. 

Every second of every day I think about you, which I know is a little creepy to say out loud, good thing I’m writing it, huh? You’ve taught me that loving someone doesn’t need to be difficult, and though we have our jagged edges, I love each and every piece and part of you. I love you on your best and worst days, I love you when you wake me up in the middle of the night and ask me to just hold you. I love the way you smile at me during someone else's long winded speech. I love the way you say my name and the way you call me Sweetheart. 

You always tell me I’m obnoxious, and I know I am, but I’m so thankful that I get to be obnoxious around you, that I get to be myself with you. I’m not afraid of your judgement because I know you’d never actually judge me. Thank you for that by the way. Shit I’m crying now. Okay, I have to focus. This is the edge of the page so make sure you flip it over! I’m not done!

Okay good, you flipped it. Back to what I was saying before. You’re the love of my life.

When I first started working for you, I wanted nothing more than to kick your ass. Some days, I still feel the same way, but it’s not the same. I’ve never wanted to be around someone so often, I’ve never felt the kind of emotions you make me feel. You honestly make me crazy.

Thank you for letting me in. Thank you for letting me past your walls, thank you for letting me love you and care for you, and thank you for loving me. Not to be a total sap, especially because I’m not even thirty yet, and technically you’re not even forty in terms of physical age, but I hope when we’re both old and wrinkly, everyday you make me feel the same happiness I feel now. God forbid I ever get something like dementia, but if it happens, I hope you’re the only person I consistently remember time and time again. Or at the very least, we can fall in love, each and every day, over and over again.

When our time comes, I hope I find you in the next lifetime, and the next one after that. 

I love you James Buchanan Barnes. I can’t wait to marry you.

He sniffled, shaking his head, a wide smile on his face as a few tears streamed along his cheeks. Bucky took a minute to wipe his tears away, licking his lips as he reread the last two lines of the letter. He carefully folded the paper again, slipping it right back into the envelope, then into his pocket. 

Then he started getting ready, and he let all of his doubts wash away at the thought of you smiling at him as you walked down the aisle.

You had finally finished getting your makeup and hair done, Sam helping the stylist slip the flowers into your hair, opening bobby pins with his teeth as he secured them. He had a sister, it only made sense that he’d know how to do things like this.

“Y’know Bucky loves you, right?” 

You nodded your head at Sam, gaze focused on your reflection, the woman staring back at you looked so ethereal, so beautiful. Like a genuine princess, straight out of a fairytale, waiting on her prince charming.“You think he’s gonna ditch me at the altar?”

Sam sighed, pinching his nose bridge as he took a deep breath. “What is with you two? I’ve never met two people more in love! Do you both have anxiety or something? Is it the super soldier serum running through your veins?”

You sighed, shrugging. “Last night, he didn’t tell me ‘I love you’ and since then I’ve been literally spiraling, Sam. I feel like an idiot. I’ve been mean and grouchy and rude all day, I can’t get comfortable, and I’m so overwhelmed. I don’t doubt that he loves me, I doubt that he wants to marry my psychotic ass.”

Sam now faced you, both hands on your shoulders. “I’m only saying this once, okay kid? That man is utterly in love with you, he wants to spend everyday with you, he wants to be the father of your kids. He has an entire domestic fantasy in his head about the both of you. James Barnes wants nothing more than for you to be his wife. Forever. Now, stop sulking in self doubt, get your happy ass up, and put on your wedding dress.”

It was the tough love you needed, it had you sniffling slightly, bottom lip quivering a bit as you nodded. 

By the time you were in your wedding dress, your nerves had settled, and you were now looking down at the folded piece of paper Joaquin had brought to you, he was out of breath as he said ‘it's from Bucky—shit.’

You recognized his handwriting anywhere, and you didn’t hesitate to unfold the note.

Beautiful, where do I even start. I wanna keep this short and simple because I already cried reading your note to me. Also, I’m gonna cry watching you walk down the aisle, just so we have it out there. We’re both gonna cry today. I just want you to know that I love you, I can’t wait to marry you today, I can’t wait for us to be Mr. and Mrs. Barnes. I’ll see you on the other side.

With Love, Your Bucky.

You smiled, laughing at the letter, shaking your head a bit.

You really loved Bucky, and he really loved you.

After you’d spent an hour or so taking photos with your wedding party, it was time for the ceremony to begin, and you were nauseous, feeling as if you were about to keel over and vomit. The nerves came back tenfold. You didn’t have cold feet, but you weren’t exactly alright.

Then it was time for you to walk down the aisle, the opening chords to ‘Here comes the bride’ playing loudly, the large wooden doors opening, and your grip tightened around your bouquet. Taking a deep breath, glancing to your right, Alexei giving you a reassuring smile.

You weren’t really sure how he ended up being the one to walk you down the aisle, all you knew was that you’d grown pretty close over the past six months, and when Yelena suggested it, you didn’t even think twice.

“You look beautiful, are you ready?” 

You nodded at him. He linked his arm with yours, the both of you walking in tune to the song, everyone’s gaze on you as you smiled, eyes trailing your wedding party.

On your side, Joaquin stood with a wide smile, Peter beside him, and finally Kate. 

On Bucky’s side, Sam stood, wiping a single tear away, then Yelena, then Shuri who smiled at you, shooting you a wink. You were glad she was able to make it in, the Wakandans were family to Bucky.

Then there was your husband to be, in his black tux, white shirt below, with an icy blue tie and a singular blue cornflower pinned to his jacket. He smiled as he looked at you, a red flush to his skin as he bit his bottom lip, teary eyes focused on you. 

When you finally made it to the altar his gaze hadn’t left yours. You faced him, handing the bouquet to Joaquin. Then your hands were in Bucky’s and he rubbed his thumbs against your hands, offering silent reassurance.

Sam’s sister Sarah was officiating the wedding, you thought it was a nice touch. One of his nephews was even the ring bearer. 

You knew it was time for your vows, and you’d known you were up first. Joaquin handed you the slip of paper, while you looked up at Bucky, bottom lip quivering slightly as you tried not to cry.

“James Buchanan Barnes, you are the love of my life. It took me a few weeks to write these vows, mostly because I didn’t know where to start. I promise to always be there for you, to always be present, to always show how much I truly care for you. I promise to keep you on your toes, to continue being my obnoxious self. You’ve taught me so much about myself, and I’ll forever be grateful for our love—” your voice cracked slightly. “You make me a better person, even on my worst days, and I promise to never stop trying. You’re my person, and I love you so much, even if you are technically my boss, and this is highly unprofessional.”

Your joke had the crowd laughing, smiles on their teary faces as they focused on you.

Bucky nodded his head, and as Sarah gave him the queue to start, he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, swallowing as he looked down at it.

He said your full name. “I’ve been alive for a long time, longer than almost everyone in this room. Before meeting you, I was positive I’d never find ‘the one’. I remember Steve used to talk about finding ‘the one’ all the time, and I thought maybe it just wasn’t something I’d experience. Then I met you. You’re the biggest know-it-all I’ve ever met, but I love the sound of your voice. I promise to always be there with you and for you. You’re my everything and more, and I’ll forever be grateful that Sam dragged me halfway across the world to be a hero because it let me to you. You inspire me every single day to keep going, and I love you, Sweetheart.”

You were both crying now.

Then Sarah had Bucky start.

“Will you, James Buchanan Barnes, have this woman from this day forward, to be your wedded wife, to live and love together, in this sacred state of matrimony? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor, and cherish her. For rich or for poor, in sickness and health, in trying times and smooth, all the days of your life?” 

He didn’t hesitate, grasping your hands again. “I do.”

She smiled, looking at you.

“Will you, Y/n Y/l/n, have this man from this day forward, to be your wedded husband, to live and love together, in this sacred state of matrimony? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor, and cherish him. For rich or for poor, in sickness and health, in trying times and smooth, all the days of your life?” 

You nodded, “I do.”

“By the power vested in me, you may now kiss the bride.”

Bucky pulled you into him, lips against yours in an instant, the both of you smiling into the kiss as he dipped you, your lips moving in sync while the room filled with cheers, claps, and even a few whistles.

The day was full of emotion, you cried over and over again. During Sam and Joaquin’s speeches you found yourself laughing, crying, and leaning into Bucky, head against his shoulder while you both whispered amongst each other.

The two of you danced to A Thousand Years by Christina Perri. You’d chosen the song, teasing Bucky about it over the span of three weeks prior to the wedding date, constantly making jokes that you’d chosen it because he was ‘like a thousand years old anyways’. But truthfully, you’d chosen the song because it managed to describe every single emotion that he made you feel.

That and one night four months ago you’d drunkenly waltzed to the song in your shared living room. 

He spun you around, the both of you laughing as you stumbled through the front door, wide smiles mirroring one another. Then you started dancing, he was humming, and you were giggling. Bucky’s hands on your waist, practically guiding you through before he intertwined his right hand with your left.

Then you got an idea, gasping as you shoved him slightly before grabbing your phone, a playlist on shuffle that Kate had sent titled ‘love songs that you might enjoy?’. 

The two of you spent two hours smiling, laughing, and dancing in the dimly lit living room, bumping into pieces of furniture every now and then, cycling through different songs from different eras, all of which shared the common thread of love. Then A Thousand Years started playing, and as you looked into his eyes, you knew at that moment, it would be your wedding song.

The rest of the night felt truly magical.

You felt like a princess getting to marry Prince Charming. 

All of the stress from before had finally faded away, you were finally happy, and you were finally Mrs. Barnes.

Bucky was practically insatiable throughout the entire night. The knowledge that you were his wife was chemistry altering for him, you were his in every sense of the word, and he was yours. His domestic fantasy about you with a ring on your finger was finally real, and you were finally his wife. 

He almost pulled an Irish goodbye at his own wedding. Of course you shushed him, forcing him to stay a bit longer, then you both made your dramatic exit as everyone threw flower petals above the two of you, the photographers perfectly capturing the moment, an image that you’d leave framed in your home for decades. 

Once you finally made it back to the large cabin, you smiled at the sight of it being fully decorated, trails of rose petals from the entrance, leading to the bedroom, different sized faux candles lit along the walkway, creating a welcoming ambiance. Then Bucky grasped your hand, a smile on his face as he looked at you.

“Finally don’t have to worry about that professionalism issue huh?”

You laughed at him, biting your bottom lip and nodding. “Guess your idea made sense after all huh? Now, Mr. Barnes, would you do me the honor of taking me to bed and getting me out of this dress?” 

Bucky didn’t need to be told twice, he was scooping you up bridal style and walking down the hallway, smiling as you laughed at him, shaking your head at the flowers all over the house, vases full of roses, rose petals all over the floor, Kate and Yelena had gone all out for you.

He gently put you down, taking a moment to truly admire you, the glow of the candlelight reflecting against your skin, you truly looked beautiful in every sense.

“Can you unzip me?” You turned away from him, moving the mixture of your hair and extensions out of the way, shivering at the feeling of his hands against your shoulders, then he was slowly tugging the long ivory zipper down, the dress cascading down your body onto the floor.

Bucky’s eyes widened at the sight of the matching white lacy lingerie, which also included a thigh garter that made his head fuzzy. Then you spun to face him, stepping out of your heels, looking up at him with a smirk.

You were silent as you unbuttoned his shirt, moving slowly, one by one, all the while he watched you with a lust-filled gaze. Once the shirt was fully open, you gently slid your hands along his torso, stopping at his belt before making eye contact with him.

“Go ahead Mrs. Barnes.” 

The name made you smile, rolling your eyes playfully as you undid his belt. You paused to push his shirt off of his shoulders, he shrugged it the rest of the way off. It was clear he was running out of patience as you toyed with the button of his pants.

Then suddenly he was picking you up and tossing you right onto the bed, a loud creak as your back hit the mattress, the noise had both of you laughing. He raised both brows as he looked at you in a pile of rose petals, biting his bottom lip while unbuttoning his pants and kicking off his own shoes. 

As you spread your legs for him, he easily slotted himself between them, vibranium hand on your throat, pulling you closer to him as he pressed his lips to yours. 

Bucky kissed you like a man starved, all teeth and tongue, moaning against your lips, holding you in place with a firm grip around your throat that had your head spinning. He poured every ounce of love and adoration into the kiss, with a smidge of frustration. 

You bit his bottom lip, giving yourself the chance to pull back slightly, catching your breath, already feeling light headed as you rested your forehead against his. 

His voice was strained as he spoke, as if he was holding back, “Am I wrong if I don’t wanna go slow with you tonight?”

You smiled, laughing a bit, “I never asked for you to go slow with me, James. I’m your wife, so fuck me like it.”Your seductive tone was all he needed to hear, lips back on yours for a brief moment before he was moving his hand away from your neck, trailing wet opened mouthed kissed down your jaw. 

Usually he wouldn’t leave marks, tonight was different though. He was nipping and sucking marks into your skin, listening to the way you whimpered at the feeling of his teeth against your soft skin. He took a moment to bite into your shoulder, lapping his tongue over the inflamed skin. Bucky was staking his claim onto you, he was practically feral.

You moaned as he cupped your tits, squeezing and massaging them before practically ripping the lingerie off of you—earning a loud gasp. He shushed you, his mouth back on your chest, kissing along the swell of your breasts, biting against them slightly before taking a nipple into his mouth.

Your hands were in his hair while his tongue lapped at your hardened peak, then he moved to the other one, using his free hand to lightly tug on your nipple before smacking your breast. 

He moaned against your skin, smacking your tits a few more times, listening to your loud whines and whimpers, smirking at the feeling of you arching into his touch, hips bucking against him slightly.

Eventually he let up, kissing down your stomach, looking up at you as he situated himself between your thighs. 

“Tonights all about you Mrs. Barnes,” he spoke as he ripped off your panties, literally grasping the material at your hip, then tearing it and pushing it out of his way. “I’ll buy you more—fuck keep you dressed up like this for me all the time.”

You nodded, biting your bottom lip as he peppered kisses along your hips, both hands pushing your thighs even further apart. Bucky trailed wet open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, biting into the supple flesh a few times, coaxing moans out of you. He also tugged on the thigh garter with his teeth, moaning against your skin.

Then he placed a soft kiss to the mound above your cunt before licking a singular flat stripe from your sopping hole to your clit. The motion had you rocking your hips forward.

He used his vibranium arm to keep you still, pinning your lower half to the bed, hand practically bruising as he held onto one of your hips, his other hand steady on your thigh, offering a few smacks while he teased you with his tongue.

Bucky moaned against your cunt several times, letting himself get lost in the taste of you as he licked along your slit, back and forth, over and over again until you were whimpering.

“Baby please—I need more” 

He looked up at you, your hooded eyes staring right back at him. “Anything for you Sweetheart.”

He wrapped his lips around your swollen clit, sucking against it, your moans only motivated him to keep going. He swirled his tongue around your pearl, even lightly grinding his teeth against it. That had your eyes crossed as you tugged on his hair.

The sting against his scalp had him moaning, the vibrations made your toes curl. You were already so close.

Then he pulled back slightly, a ‘pop’ leaving his lips as Bucky let go of your clit, opting to swiftly flick his tongue against it—the way he knew you loved. Then he was tracing his name against it, taking his time with each and every letter, applying just enough pressure to make you scream his name, a rush of euphoria overtaking you.

He laughed at you, biting his bottom lip, “Already cumming for me baby? You didn’t even ask nicely.” 

You whimpered, shaking your head.“Don’t start with me, Bucky.” your voice was strained, words a bit frantic as you tried to catch your breath. However, he didn’t give you a break, his tongue was back on your clit and one of his fingers was sliding into your entrance, the feeling had you whining his name, not Bucky—James.

Then he slid a second finger into you, still lapping at your clit while your walls fluttered around the thick digits, moaning against you as he closed his eyes, getting lost in the taste of your cunt. Bucky slid his tongue to the edge of your sopping hole, gathering your juices, groaning, before moving back to your clit, fingers rapidly fucking into you, hitting the spongy spot inside of you that nearly had you screaming.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t bucking his hips into the mattress.

You were biting your bottom lip, brows knit together, back arched as you tried to rock your hips against him. Still he held you down.

“Take what I give you, baby.” 

You nodded at his words.

“Can I cum—fuck please—let me cum baby—” your moans were getting louder and louder as you tried not to cum.

“C’mon baby, wanna taste more of you—cum for me” 

His voice sent you over the edge, you were creaming along his fingers, cunt squeezing against them as he kept his motions up, prolonging your orgasm in the best way. Then he was slipping his fingers out of you, and usually he’d put them in his own mouth, but you watched as he moved up a bit, raising his arm, then he tugged on your bottom lip with them.

“Know you want a taste—” his voice was deeper than usual, a bit strained as he watched you take his fingers into your mouth, tongue swirling around them, moaning at the taste while holding eye contact with him.

It wasn’t long before his pants were off and he was between your thighs, lips back on yours, relishing in the taste of your cunt contrasting with your usual lip balm. 

Your hands were on either side of his face, kissing him with your all as he struggled to keep up with you. Then you pulled away for a brief moment, whispering, “Need you to fuck me,” against his lips. One of your hands now between your legs, grasping his cock, sliding along the thickness of it for a few seconds as you kissed him.

Then you were angling him towards your cunt, teasing him, running the head of his cock through your dripping slit, even tapping it against your clit a few times, whimpering against his lips. 

He smiled into the kiss, bucking his hips slightly before you angled him perfectly against your entrance. “You sure you don’t want it slow baby?” his voice was low as he spoke, pulling away from the kiss, looking down at you, then glancing between your bodies, groaning at the sight of your smaller hand wrapped around his cock.

“We have a lifetime to go slow James—” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, not when he was bottoming out inside of you, a deep moan leaving him as he filled you to the brim. Your eyes were squeezed shut, hands now on his back, nails digging into his skin while you tried to remember how to breathe.

Bucky rested his head in the crook of your neck, shallow breaths against your skin while he gave you a moment to adjust to his size. “You’re gonna kill me one day,” his voice was strained as he spoke, earning a laugh from you.

“You can move baby,” you were already breathless, then he slowly pulled out of you, taking his time as he thrusted back in. You knew he was trying to go easy on you, giving you the chance to fully adjust to him—but that’s not what you wanted right now. 

“Bucky I need you to fuck me like you mean it.”

He blinked a few times, and it was as if all of his restraint suddenly snapped. Hips pistoning in and out of you as he sat up a bit straighter, two hands making their way to your thighs, pushing them back, practically folding you in half as he fucked into you with no remorse.

Your eyes rolled back at the feeling, pleasure overtaking all of your senses. The world around you faded to dust, all you could focus on was Bucky.

“Take it so fuckin good-fuck look at you baby—so pretty—my pretty fuckin wife.” 

You nodded at him, biting your bottom lip, whimpering as you struggled to keep your eyes open. His hands dug into your thighs as he held you in place, fucking into you like a man possessed.

You started rocking your hips into him, trying your best to meet his thrusts, chasing your own high—moaning his name in a chant as he pounded into you.

His gaze moved from your perfect face down to your cunt, biting his bottom lip as he watched his cock disappear into you, “Cunt’s practically swallowing me whole—fuck always so tight for me—keep taking it baby—just like that.” Bucky smirked at the sight of his cock coated in your cream, your cunt soaking him over and over again.

“Love this little pussy—might even fill ‘er up—you’d like that wouldn’t you baby?” he looked back at you, watching as you stared at him through hooded lust-filled eyes. Lips spread as uncontrollable moans slipped through, brows knit together while you focused on him.

“Yeah, gonna fill this cunt, make it all mine—forever—just like you. Fuck might keep filling you up until it sticks—have you all round with my kid.” he paused, eyes trailing your figure again, biting his bottom lip for a few seconds “—gonna give you my kids baby, make you into my perfect little housewife.” He moved one hand, leaning forward, vibranium hand wrapped around your throat, giving it a gentle squeeze-apply just enough pressure to make you forget anything and everything that wasn’t Bucky.

He also had your hips angled a bit more, the new angle giving him room to fuck you deeper, cock stretching you out and filling you sinfully.

“Gonna make you the mother to my kids—keep fuckin filling you all night.” 

You nodded at that.“Please—fuck—need it so bad-” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, part of you needed to cum again, the other part of you wanted nothing more than for Bucky to cum inside of you, fucking you full of himself.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll always take care of you.” He let go of your other thigh, hand now between your legs, thumb rubbing harsh half-moons against your clit. “C’mon Sweetheart, know you wanna cum—so cum for me,” 

A white heat flooded your body, your eyes squeezing just as you moaned “James—fuck—” orgasm flooding through your entire body, you felt like you were on fire and the only thing that could extinguish it was Bucky.

He moaned at the sight of you gushing around his cock, coating your inner thighs and his cock in your juices as he kept fucking into you. Then he was tensing up, jaw clenched as he shuddered, cumming deep inside of you, moving his hips to fuck it all into you.

It took a few seconds for the both of you to finally relax. You laughed as he practically plopped on top of you, his head against your chest while he groaned. Then your hands were in his hair, toying with the strands as you giggled.

“Consummating the marriage went well I think?” Your voice was a bit hoarse, and he nodded against you, mumbling an ‘mhmmm’, clearly tired from the day.

“I was serious by the way—want you to be the mother to my kids,” he spoke quietly, arms wrapped around your body, holding you even closer to him. 

You knew the topic of kids had always been touchy for Bucky, it wasn’t like he never wanted them, prior to Hydra, he constantly imagined settling down with the right woman, having his own family, two kids running around the house and raising hell. It was a domestic fantasy that he kept to himself, something that he was afraid of talking about because there were too many ‘what-ifs’ involved.

James Buchanan Barnes was a sergeant in the military during one of the largest historical wars, his life was constantly on the line at that point. Then he spent seventy years brainwashed, used as an assassin, and traumatized. He’d done the work, he’d faced his traumas and he was a better person in the end. But in the back of his mind he was always afraid of hurting his loved ones, always afraid that one day something might go wrong, that he might turn back into the monster they’d made him.

You were the one to finally convince him that it wouldn’t happen. That he’d never hurt you or anyone else he cared about, that he wasn’t a monster. You always told him, “Bucky, just because you’ve done bad things, doesn’t make you a bad person.”

You’d even promised to keep reiterating that to him for the rest of his life. 

Four months following the wedding you’d been feeling sick for two weeks straight. 

So sick in fact that you couldn’t keep anything down and would wake up at random hours throughout the night and early morning to vomit, mumbling that you were ‘praying to the porcelain gods’ anytime he asked if you were alright. 

Bucky was always up with you, kneeling beside you in the bathroom, holding your hair back, making sure you were alright as he rubbed reassuring circles into your back. Half the time he was still partially asleep, rubbing his eyes while asking you the same question multiple times between yawns.

It wasn’t until Kate and Joaquin showed up to your Brooklyn apartment with concerned expressions and a CVS bag in hand that you’d even considered the possibility of being pregnant.

“I need you to piss on these sticks.” 

You scoffed at Joaquin, throwing a pillow at him while you sat up in your bedroom. You’d been laying down in a pile of blankets and pillows that you’d sprayed with Bucky’s cologne. He had to be in D.C. for a few hearings and given your ongoing illness, you weren’t fit to travel.

So instead you hunkered down, with a basket full of saltines and ginger ale for four days, constantly reheating a pot of soup Yelena had made for you with the help of Alexei. She’d mumbled several words in Russian that you didn’t understand when she was cooking it, arguing with her father on the phone as he told her she was adding too much or too little of something.

Joaquin and Kate stood side-by-side in your bedroom, he held up two boxes of pregnancy tests, each a different brand, while Kate held the CVS bag and a new bottle of ginger ale. 

It had taken an hour of convincing before you were in the bathroom, taking multiple pregnancy tests while Kate leaned against the sink and Joaquin stood outside of the door, doing his best to be ‘encouraging’.

“If I strangle him, will you help me hide his body? Actually, Bucky’s coming back tonight, maybe he’ll help me.” 

Kate shook her head at you, glancing down at the four tests sitting on the countertop, then at her phone with a timer set. You were seated on top of the closed toilet, one leg rapidly bouncing up and down.

“Y’know how excited Joaquin is at the potential to be an uncle? Y’know I was sparring at the tower with Walker when he randomly stormed in and said we needed to go to CVS as soon as possible.” She then motioned to her clothes.

“I assumed you were just into the athleisure look. It’s fine Kate! It looks good on you. I think maybe we should let him in now, he’s probably pacing outside looking insane.” She nodded, then opened the door, the two of you watching Joaquin suddenly stop in his steps, eyes wide as he walked into the doorframe, leaning against it as he looked at you two.

“Well?! What do they say?” you shrugged, glancing at Kate.

“Timers not up yet, we don’t know.” Kate looked back at her phone as she spoke, then at the tests on the counter, her eyes widening before doing a double take. “Uh…well…we’ve got like two minutes left but I don’t think we’ll need them.”

You shot up from your seat, grabbing one of the tests, eyes wide as you stared at it, the positive sign staring right back. Then you looked at the other three—all positives.

“Oh shit!” 

Joaquin practically shoved you out of the way to see them, then he turned around and pulled you and Kate into a group hug “This is so exciting! I’m gonna be an uncle! Oh my god how are you gonna tell your husband?! Shit, I need to call my girlfriend!” 

You immediately shushed him, shoving him away while shaking your head, one test still in hand as you pointed it at him. “No—you’re not telling anyone! Not until I tell Bucky! We’re not having a repeat of my engagement!” Then you turned to Kate, pointing the test at her too “That goes for you too! Don’t tell a soul!”

Joaquin slowly nodded, “What about Peter?” You raised a single brow and he cracked, “Okay, I told Peter that Buck might’ve knocked you up! But to be fair! To be fair! It was because I wanted him to go to CVS with me and Kate—but he’s with his girlfriend.”

You smacked Joaquin with a bottle of hand soap. 

Then you heard the door open. Blinking a few times, the sound caught you off guard. Your shocked expression met Kate and Joaquin’s who ushered you out of the bathroom before slamming the ensuite door shut.

By the time that Bucky walked into your shared bedroom, you were already back in bed, tucked under your layers. He relaxed at the sight of you, a smile on his face while he shrugged off his suit jacket.

“Missed you baby, you feeling better?” He spoke as he approached you, pulling off his tie and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his white dress shirt. Then he was leaning into your space, one hand on the bed to brace himself as he kissed you. 

You couldn’t hold it in, and you were shoving him off of you as you sat up. He blinked a few times, and you knew he was worried he’d done something wrong. But you immediately shushed him the second his mouth opened to say something.

“I’m pregnant and Joaquin and Kate are in the bathroom hiding and I didn’t think you’d be home until tonight and holy fucking shit I’m gonna have a baby—your baby.” You spoke so fast you hardly even registered what you were saying.

He blinked a few times, brows knit together as he tried to process what you’d just said, all he’d gotten was ‘Joaquin and Kate…bathroom…baby’. He then sat down beside you, grabbing your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Sweetheart, I need you to slow down and say it again.”

You sighed, nodding your head, eyes watering for some reason as you looked into his eyes. “James, I’m pregnant, and Joaquin and Kate are hiding in the bathroom because I thought you’d be home later tonight and they had me take the tests, and they’re all positive.”

Bucky nodded slowly, shock evident on his features while he stared at you.

“So we’re gonna have a baby?” 

You nodded “We’re gonna have a baby.” Then your tears started falling while he pulled you into a hug, planting a kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re gonna look so good pregnant.” 

You knew he was joking, trying to make you feel better, and truthfully it worked. You moved to kiss him, a soft, tender kiss. Then you leaned your forehead against his, “We’re gonna have a baby.”

Joaquin practically fell through the bathroom door with Kate on top of him, both of them had clearly been eavesdropping, and whoever used the doorknob for leverage was an idiot (newsflash, it was Joaquin). They both groaned in pain at the impact, blinking a few times while you and Bucky stared at them.

“Get the hell out, both of you.” Bucky’s voice had their eyes widening, both shooting up and mumbling awkward goodbyes. Once they were out, you started laughing, lightly swatting his arm.

“You’ve gotta stop intimidating everyone like that! They’re just excited for us. But just so you know, we’re gonna be getting a lot of calls soon about the whole baby situation.” 

He nodded. “Is now a bad time to say that Sam’s in the living room?”

-

As always thanks for reading sexies <3 feedback is appreciated!!!

[fluff-lover]

Past Future | Logan x fem!Reader

Summary: Logan time travels and finds out his future self is married... to you.

Note: this is in a way part of my Healing Touch fic, where Reader is called "Angel", is a mutant and has healing powers. But can be read without reading the whole fic.

Also, I don't think the timelines and plot makes much sense, but this came to me one night and I just needed to write it!

In a desperate attempt to stop the sentinels, Charles and Logan offer to travel into the future to find out how (and if) the X-Men won the war, only to find out that mutants are almost extinct there. Year is 2030 and their only lead takes them to the Logan from the future: a more rugged, worn down Wolverine who hung the claws a year ago, after Charles died.

“I don’t go by Logan anymore.” He told them. “Here I’m James.”

It took a lot of persuasion to make James take them home and help them. James wanted to leave the past in the past, but seeing Chuck again, even if it was a younger version, pulled some strings in his heart.

That’s how they found themselves standing outside Jame’s home: a little cabin in the woods, with lovely flowers in the front yard, a wooden fence, a nice porch… 

Logan, the one from the past, felt like this was a completely parallel universe instead of his own in the future. The man standing in front of him was completely different from him.

“Listen, I’m very protective of my home.” James said. “So here are some ground rules: Don’t go sneaking around, don’t touch anything…” He said looking from Charles to Logan, then back to Charles. “Don’t feed the dog.” And finally he turned to Logan. “And don’t hit on my wife.” he said in a warning tone.

“You have a dog?” Charles asked.

“You have a wife?!” Logan added in disbelief.

They walked in and found a cozy home, a lit fireplace, and the smell of homemade food filling in the air.

“Shoes.” James said before taking his shoes off.

Charles and Logan exchanged a look before taking their shoes off too.

Oh, James was whipped!

A white and brown border collie rushed to James and he bent down to greet her.

“Hi Whiskey, have you been a good girl today?” He asked the dog while patting her. She wiggled her tail and licked his hand. “Yeah you were… always such a good girl.”

Logan watched closely, he couldn’t imagine ever getting a dog. 

James straightened with a groan and walked further into the home.

“Sweetheart?” He called out.

You walked out of the kitchen to greet him and Logan’s breath hitched.

You were SO beautiful, breathtaking. Now he understood Jame’s warning. His younger self would definitely try to make some moves on such a pretty thing.

Logan watched in disbelief as you cupped your husband’s face and kissed his lips oh so sweetly while James wrapped an arm around your waist. Logan wondered how on Earth he would end up with such a loving, beautiful partner. It was clear your tenderness rubbed off on James, seeing him being all lovey dovey with you.

James quickly introduced them and you couldn’t help but look at Logan in wonder. He looked just like your husband, just younger. But he wasn’t the same man. You and Logan went through so much together: losing the other mutants, helping Charles, finding Laura, only for Charles to pass away in a horrific way… No, your James was unique, and you loved him just the way he was.

Charles was a whole different story…

“That’s… a head full of hair…” You half joked. James snorted and kissed your temple.

Your life with James was simple and very domestic. You made dinner in the kitchen while he set the table. Logan and Charles tried to take everything in as this wasn’t the future they expected.

“Alright, dinner is ready!” you said as you placed the food on the table.

“I’ll get Laura.” James said before going upstairs.

“Who’s Laura?” Charles asked.

“She’s James’ kid.” You said as you sat down. Logan opened his eyes so widely you thought they would pop out of his skull. “It’s complicated, technically she’s his clone, but after we found out about her we decided to keep her and raise her as our own.”

Logan watched James arrive downstairs followed by a little girl. There was some resemblance, especially in her frown. She didn’t look happy to have visitors.

When Laura spotted Logan, she quickly hid behind James’ legs. He smiled gently at her and patted her head.

“It’s alright kiddo, he’s good. Not a clone.” He explained while guiding her to her chair next to you. You smiled sweetly and placed a plate of food in front of her.

Once you were all sat at the table Charles and Logan explained the situation and asked a ton of questions about the future. With a lot of patience James told them everything, from how to defeat the sentinels to how you two ended up here. He told them about Charle’s seizures and how it killed every other mutant except for the two of you. 

You told them about your healing powers and your days at the School as “Angel”. 

…About your marriage…

…About finding Laura…

About Charles passing away.

At one point you turned to Charles with glassy eyes.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. I used my healing powers with you every chance I got but…” You shook your head and sighed. “I think you were so tired you just gave up. And then when you were attacked by X-24 I got to you too late, you had already passed away…” you looked away in shame. James lifted your hand and kissed it.

“You did everything you could… We all did.” James said before turning to the others. “She’s constantly healing me too, otherwise I would be dead by now.”

“Healing from what? I thought you… we…” Logan cleared his throat, not knowing how to address James. “What about the enhanced healing power?”

“I still got it, but the adamantium in my bones is slowly poisoning me.” He then looked at you lovingly. “My little angel keeps it from taking me out entirely.”

“What’s adamantium?” Charles asked.

“A nearly indestructible metal that was injected inside me to make me stronger.” With that James unleashed his claws and the other men saw their reflection on the shiny material.

“What the fuck…?” Logan mumbled.

“How did that happen?” Charles asked.

“That’s another long story…” James sighed.

“And it’s been a long night, I’ll tuck Laura in.” You said getting up. “Come on sweetheart, it’s bedtime.” 

Laura got up and before following you upstairs she stopped to hug James goodnight. It took a while for James and Laura to form this father-daughter bond, but you knew they loved each other and every day they learned more and more to show their affection. It was slow progress but it was worth it.

“Good night, kiddo.” James smiled softly and watched the two of you walk upstairs. Logan was still trying to wrap this whole thing around his head. James turned to him and tilted his head towards the door. “Care for a drink?”

James, Logan and Charles sat down on the porch, each one of them with a glass of bourbon. The sky was clear and the stars shone bright. It was quiet and nice, the only light in the porch coming from a little lamp hanging from the roof.

Charles and James discussed plans of action against the sentinels and how to get reinforcements, but Logan stayed quiet mostly. He had so many questions, the most important one being what did he do to deserve such a happy, tranquil life?

Whiskey, the dog, laid next to James on the floor with her head resting on her master’s foot.

“So this is your life now, uh?” Logan suddenly said, interrupting Charles and James’ talk. “You go to work, come home to a wife and kid, have dinner, sit on the porch with a drink and a cigar…”

James arched an eyebrow.

“Pretty much, yeah.” He said before taking a drag.

“You forgot the dog.” Charles added and Logan shot him a glare.

“Hard to believe, no?” James asked him. Logan didn’t know what to say, but yes, he was having a hard time believing this.

“It's just so… peaceful.” he mumbled.

James hummed and took a sip of his drink.

“It is, and so far away from all the violence I once knew. For the longest time I didn’t believe I deserved it. That I didn’t deserve HER.” It was clear he was talking about you. “But each morning I wake up next to her and she reassures me this is where I belong.” He smiled, thinking about the quiet mornings, the whispers under the covers, the light kisses on his face.

“Are you happy?” Charles asked softly, wanting to believe his friend got a somewhat happy ending while the rest of the world went to shit.

James hummed again and nodded his head.

“Happier than I recall ever being.”

By the time they went back inside you were almost done washing the dishes. James stood next to you and started drying them, a radio playing old tunes in a corner.

While Logan and Charles discussed strategies, Logan caught a glimpse of you and James slow dancing in the kitchen. It was a heart pulling scene: your head resting against James’ chest, Paul Anka’s voice sounding in the background. 

It looked so simple, just a common married couple slow dancing in the kitchen late at night, a domestic yet sweet tint to it. Yet to Logan it looked like an impossible dream of something he never thought he could get.

“You’ll get there.” He heard Charles whisper and his face went red as he realized he was caught staring.

“Uh?”

Charles looked at the couple and back at him.

“You’ll meet her, fall in love and marry her. Don’t worry, this will happen to you.”

Logan cleared his throat awkwardly.

“It won’t if we change the future.”

“You won’t remember any of this when you get back to your own time. But I will, and I’ll make sure you meet her.” Charles promised.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He said dismissively. “That’s not what we’re here for. Keep your head in the mission.”

Charles simply smiled.

Logan was whipped too…

Tags:

@starsmoonn

@insanesosciopath

@rebloggingfanfictioninthechaos

@ayamenimthiriel

@charmingballoon

@espressopatronum454

@uncertified-doc

@ltristessedureratoujours

@all-for-kpop

@readerofwords616

@tezooks

@tomhockstetter7-111

@meetmypointlessaddiction

@mostly-marvel-musings

@jules-and-gemss@reidsworld

[mischievousmoony]

I’m blushing so hard at frat boy James!! What about the first time she comes over and meets the guys outside a party

hope i've done your idea justice! ty for requesting

𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

⟢ frat boy!james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 1.9k ⟢ warnings/tags: references to drinking, technically american!james potter and american!marauders

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"It'll just take a minute," James promises. "We'll be in and out."

With his hand in yours, he leads you through the door, passing under the large Greek letters as you cross the threshold.

You have been seeing James for a month and a half. You never thought you'd be interested in a frat guy—you've never even step foot in one of their houses until now—but James has proven to be the opposite of what you thought a frat guy would be like.

James is a total sweetheart. Possibly the most thoughtful and genuine guy you've ever dated. He makes you feel special, always remembering the little things like your favorite flower or your drink orders at all your favorite places. He's attentive without ever being overbearing. But honestly, you don't think you could see him that way if you tried, always loving every bit of attention he gives you.

Today, he's taking you on a study date. He remembered that you were complaining about an upcoming exam in a class he's already taken, so he's grabbing his old notes and sitting you down in a quiet corner of the library so that he can help you study.

James would already have you set up in the library on the coziest chair with your favorite hot drink from the cafe if he didn't forget his old notebook in his room—which he felt rather sheepish about leaving behind.

So, here you are. James asked if you wanted to wait in the car, but you were curious to see the inside of one of these things. You half expected to see solo cups littering the floor, a pong table in place of a coffee table, and maybe even a few hungover frat guys strewn about the living room still sobering up from last nights antics.

You were a little surprised to find out that it was rather clean. You know from James that there was indeed a party here last night, but apparently they clean up nicely.

Although, you’re right about there being a pong table. But it is folded up and leaning against a wall for future use.

James guides you towards the stairs, but before he can even mount the first step someone appears in the foyer from a hall that you can see leads to the kitchen.

"Jamesie! Back so soon?" the boy cheers when his eyes land on his friend first. His eyes dart to you a second later, and something like recognition flashes in his expression. "Is this who I think it is?"

The boy has long, black hair that cascades just to his shoulders in soft waves, the kind that look effortless but too perfect to not be styled in some way. He stares at you with piercing blue eyes, making you feel oddly self-conscious, which might also have to do with the big smirk on his lips.

James squeezes your hand, sensing your nerves, but he'd bet money that they pale in comparison to his own. He's been nervous about bringing you around here. It doesn't have anything to do with you, or them (well, maybe he's a little worried they'll scare you off). You're really important to him, and so are they, and he's been putting a lot of pressure on introducing you to them. So, this unplanned visit has his palms sweating, which he's hoping you haven't noticed.

"Sirius," James greets his friend. "Yeah, this is Y/N."

Your eyes widen a fraction when Sirius immediately steps forward, taking your free hand to press a kiss to the back of your knuckles. "Hi, sweetheart, I've heard a lot about you. Truly, a lot. James has talked my ear off about you so I really feel like I'm meeting an old friend. I'm Sirius."

You feel heat rise to your cheeks but you're not alone, as James' own face turns rosy as he mutters a scolding "dude!" at his friend.

"Don't tell me you were just gonna sneak in without so much as a proper introduction." Sirius places a hand over his heart, a dramatic look of utter disbelief painting his face.

"We're just stopping by to get my notes. We have a very important study sesh to get to, didn't want to delay us too much," James explains, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"I promise it'll only be a short detour then. Pete and Remus are the only ones here anyway," Sirius says. His eyes dart to you again, something mischievous swimming within them. "We've all been dying to meet the girl that has our James so smitten. I mean, he's been going on and on and on. It's nice to finally have a pretty face to the name."

At Sirius’ words, you can’t help but crack a smirk as you peer up at James.

“Don’t look at me like that,” James murmurs, now rubbing his thumb across your knuckles the way he does when he gets anxious. James is sure the tips of his ears are bright red. Sirius will go to no end to embarrass him, but despite the fact that his heart might jump out of his chest at any second, James really only cares how you feel about the situation. James tilts his head toward you, lowering his voice to ask, "Are you up for meeting some of the guys?"

"Yeah," you say with a warm smile. "I'd love to meet your friends." And you really would. James talks a lot about them, too. Always reciting some story about all the shenanigans they've gotten into over the years.

You've been able to tell he's been overthinking bringing you to meet them. You get it—you're secure in James' feelings for you, so you know it's nothing personal. Plus, you were really nervous when James met your friends. To be honest, even though they were jokes, you're friends have made digs at frat guys before because of the stigma. You really wanted James and your friends to like each other, and thankfully, they really do and you had nothing to be worried about.

You hope that meeting his friends will have the same outcome and ease some of James' worries.

Sirius provides a generous introduction as you enter the kitchen. "Boys, it seems we have a very special guest in our midst this morning."

There are two guys sitting on kitchen stools who swivel around to greet you.

There's a lanky boy with mousy brown hair whose eyes dart back and forth between you and James before he directs a kind smile in your direction.

The other boy spins around mid-spoonful of a bowl of cereal. He abandons the utensil in his mouth to wave at you, his other hand occupied by the bowl resting in his palm.

Your eyes trail around the kitchen as James introduces you to them. It's rather large, as it would have to be to accommodate the large number of guys you assume live here.

You've also discovered the mess you thought you'd be stepping into. It seems that all of the discarded solo cups and beer cans have already been shoveled into a few trash bags, which are just about ready to burst at the seams as they wait by the back door to be taken out.

"I'm Peter," the boy with the cereal pipes up after returning his spoon to his bowl.

"Remus," the tall one introduces himself. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too," you say. "You know, I've never been in a frat house before. I take it you all live here?"

Remus is the only one who shakes his head. "Not a brother," he clarifies. "Just unlucky enough to have them as my best friends."

"Oh, you know you'd be lost without us," Sirius says, rolling his eyes playfully. "And it's not a frat house, it's a frat home," Sirius says very earnestly. Too add to his dramatics, he pulls Peter into a hug (which nearly makes him fall off his stool) and raps his fist against his back as he pretends to get emotional.

Peter's laughing as he shoves, Sirius off. "Alright, man," he says, swatting Sirius' hand away as he ruffles his hair.

"Sirius had beer for breakfast," Remus informs you to excuse Sirius' behavior.

"Hey, I only had two and I know you're not suggesting I'm a lightweight," Sirius points at Remus accusingly. "Anyway, I was just telling Y/N how often Jamesie muses about her."

Remus clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "Don't tease him too badly, Sirius.”

"It's not like it's not true," Peter shrugs, earning himself a glare from James.

You look up at James. His cheeks have deepened a few shades now as he glowers at Peter. You give his hand a squeeze to attract his attention, the expression on his face immediately softening when he looks at you.

“I think it’s sweet,” you say, encouraging a smile onto James’ lips. He drops your hand, only to wrap his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side. You nuzzle your nose against his shoulder, looking at him with expectant eyes. He knows what you’re asking for, and would rather hand his friends more ammo to tease him with than deny you, so he gladly plants a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“You two are sickening.” Sirius leans over the counter, propping his chin up with his hand as he sighs dramatically. “It’s adorable,” he adds.

“Wrapped around her finger, are ya?” Peter joins in on the teasing.

James keeps his eyes on you as he responds. “You bet I am.”

You tear your eyes away from James’ sweet gaze to address his smirking friends. “You know, I've heard a lot about you guys too," you say.

Sirius lights up with intrigue. "Oh, do tell."

"Well, Peter must be the guy to go to if you want to have a laugh. Every time James asks ‘Wanna hear a story Peter told me’ I know I’m gonna have to sit through several fits of laughter before he gets to the end of it," you say, nudging James with your elbow who nods along to confirm your story.

Peter puffs up his chest, proud to be known as the funny one.

"Remus," you continue, "I should've known you weren't a brother. James always tells me about how they drag you into things that you have to get them out of. If he hasn't told you before, he's very thankful for you. And Sirius. I think I've heard the most interesting stories about you."

"This should be good," Sirius says, a cocky grin on his face. "I've given James a whole catalog of legendary stories to tell about me."

"My favorite is the one that started with you trying to impress a girl by jumping into the pool from the roof and ended with you in the bushes after you tripped on the gutter,” you say, an air of sweetness in your tone and a smile on your lips.

The confident smirk drops from Sirius’ face and James snorts a laugh beside you. Peter cracks up, and even Remus snickers at the look on Sirius’ face.

"I think you’ve just won over Sirius," Remus says, watching as his grin returns.

“You got me, I can appreciate that,” Sirius says. “Why have you been hiding her from us for so long, James? I like her.”

"Yeah, I like her too,” James replies, squeezing you a little closer into his side. He doesn't bother trying to hide the broad grin overtaking his features. As he looks down at your giggling face, he can't remember what he was so nervous about.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[hermioneslovely]

rainy day cuddles

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, drabble, reader is in ravenclaw

a/n: this is my first time writing so please bare with me. also, english is not my native language so sorry if there are any mistakes.

The rain poured outside, tapping gently against the castle windows. The Gryffindor common room was warm and cozy, the fire crackling softly in the hearth. Most students had gone up to bed, leaving only a few stragglers curled up with books or playing chess in the corner.

Y/N wasn’t even supposed to be here—technically, as a Ravenclaw, her common room was in an entirely different tower. But somehow, she always found herself here, curled up on the couch next to him.

Harry sat beside her, his arm lazily draped along the back of the couch, dangerously close to her shoulders. Y/N, wrapped in the oversized Gryffindor sweater he had practically forced her into (“You’re freezing, just wear it!”), tucked her legs beneath her as she read.

Or at least, she was trying to read.

"You're not even turning the pages," Harry murmured, tilting his head at her with a lopsided grin.

Y/N blinked, realizing she’d been staring at the same paragraph for way too long. "Maybe because someone keeps distracting me," she shot back, nudging him lightly with her elbow.

Harry chuckled. "Me? I haven’t even said anything."

She glanced up at him, narrowing her eyes playfully. "You’re breathing. It’s distracting."

Harry let out a dramatic gasp. "So now I can’t even breathe around you? Harsh, Y/N. Really harsh."

She rolled her eyes, but the way he was looking at her—green eyes soft, a teasing smile playing on his lips—made her heart skip a beat.

Another roll of thunder echoed outside, making her flinch just slightly. Without thinking, she tucked herself a little closer into the warmth of his sweater. She felt Harry shift beside her, and before she could react, his arm—the one that had been so conveniently resting on the back of the couch—dropped onto her shoulders.

Y/N stiffened for half a second. Harry hesitated, waiting for any sign that she wanted to pull away. But when she relaxed against him, just a little, he took that as permission and pulled her in properly.

"There," he murmured, resting his chin lightly on the top of her head. "That’s better."

Y/N let out a soft laugh, her cheek now resting against his shoulder. "You’re warm," she admitted.

"That’s what happens when you grow up wearing Dudley’s oversized hand-me-downs," he joked.

She snorted, curling up even closer. "Well, congratulations, Potter. You’re officially a human heater."

Harry smirked, pressing the tiniest kiss to the top of her head—so quick she almost thought she imagined it. "Guess that means you’ll have to stick around more often," he whispered.

[aangelinakii]

BATBOYS AS ROMANTIC MOVIE LEADS.

note : so basically the batboys and what romance movie / love interest character they would are !!!!

BRUCE WAYNE as...

CAPTAIN VON TRAPP ( the sound of music )

no i'm being so fr when i first watched this a few months ago i was so contemplating writing a fic or series of this exact scenario,, like reader is a nanny or something for bruce wayne's kids and they fall in love

take away nazi germany and it's LITERALLY a bruce wayne love story

him and his many kids

he would be slow to warm up at first, because at that time i imagine him to be very robert pattinson, very emo very lonely, very lego batman as in falsely independent

but then he realises he's in love with the person right in front of him, whom his kids adore, and he would do anything for them

DICK GRAYSON as...

JOHNNY MARTIN ( penelope )

if you haven't seen penelope this is your sign to go watch it because james mcavoy plays THEEE most dreamy man i have ever seen

he falls in love with who you are, not what you could be or what other people say you are,, he makes his own judgements and sticks to them, even everything you hate about yourself he sees the beauty in it all

literally ready to give up everything for That person

he may make a silly mistake like johnny did in the filmb, but you gotta realise dick grayson is not the man you want to let get away GO CHASE YOUR MAN GET HIM BACK

anf also the ending scene where johnny and penelope kiss HELLO he is literally putting his whole james mcavussy into that kiss and we all know dick grayson wouldn't half ass anything for the one he's most in love with ;(

JASON TODD as...

PATRICK VERONA ( 10 things i hate about you )

you can't tell me the whole bad boy and miscommunication thing wouldn't happen because it just WOULD

like say after everything's happened, jason too is a little bit emo and is this brooding "bad" kid who smokes in the corner of the library or something and hangs out at bars after school

he wants to make a little extra cash just to be extra rebel (he just doesn't want to ask bruce for money because he's going through a phase) and he doesn't reallllyyy care about the person he's being paid to take out

but then it hits and every time he looks at them angels start singing and they glow like they've been kissed by the gods

TIM DRAKE as...

JESSE WALLACE ( before sunrise )

okay forgive me if i get anything wrong here it's been a very long time since i last watched this movie but

tim has that cheekiness when he's in love that jesse has, maybe not exactly as cheesy (i can't watch the kissing scenes becquse they're so sloppy lol), but he falls and he falls hard

when he likes / loves someone they literally take up every fibre of his being and morph him into a lighter, happier person

he notices the little things, like the scene of wanting to tuck celine's hair behind her ear but being too shy because she already did it ???? that's SO tim because it's like he wants to be this suave macho guy, but he's just a little bit shy at the same time at initiating things

but he's in a european country getting all cultured and he's met this amazing person and he can't just let them get away

DAMIAN WAYNE as...

MR DARCEY ( pride & prejudice )

LOLLL yes i did it i could so totally see damian as like this awkward little thing but he shows he cares with the little things, like noting you prefer to walk so he asks to accompany you as opposed to taking public transport or driving ????

and also the hand thing

is so freaking damian

like he'd be a bit withdrawn, definitely awkward and he doesn't know how to act but he wants you BADDD sooo what daddy wants daddy gets

technically he is royalty right ?? i don't think mr darcey was royal but he definitely held a lot of prestige, so he'll be respected, have the manners he was taught to have growing up and struggle to talk to you any other way than to refer to you as if you were a blessing to walk this earth (but you're his blessing so it's okay)

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character 2024 — Scripted Redemption Bracket — Round 5

Propaganda

Madge Stallion (Fawx & Stallion) (Boba Count: 2):

This is the woman who always has anything you might need in her bustle. Portable phonographs, certainly, but what else? Alcohol, without doubt. Knives? Probably. More knives? Wouldn't be surprised. Candy? Always good to have something to mollify Hampton with. More alcohol? Well, James can always do with a little nip. Another knife? Why not? Lockpick set? I mean, where do you keep yours?

Everyone messaging us “please let Madge kiss [redacted]” we will remember your support during this difficult time should this go our way

But MADGE NEEDS TO WIN THIS ONE, JUST LOOK AT THE PROPAGANDA MAN

Antigone Funn (Wooden Overcoats) (Boba Count: 2):

What on earth could possibly be sexier than being presumed dead by the village she lives in at large. She genuinely cares about funerals as an art form, she puts so much care into her work. Possibly bisexual if that helps. Ghost wrote a wildly popular erotic novel with the help of village’s reverend. Come on just please vote for Antigone I’m so very sleepy and I can’t think of more reasons but I promise they’re there

Antigone's mess might be an acquired taste, but I think it's a deeply attractive mess.

SHE WAS IN LOVE WITH A BLOND GUY ONCE SHE EARNED HER REST

Art of Antigone Funn with thanks to @acornzest.

Additional propaganda below the cut:

Madge Stallion (Fawx & Stallion):

Madge Stallion was submitted without propaganda.

we gotta get our girl some propaganda. she would hate it, but the mystery of it all is kinda part of the appeal here.

Madge stallion NEEDS no propaganda

Madge: so sexy she needs no propaganda

#madge stallion is a great woman to lose to

#Madge she's a sassy lesbian detective what else do you want

#madge stallion needs no propaganda #by virtue of being madge

This is propaganda for all the female characters. Voters please remember how pretty all women are and factor that into every single vote you make. Thank you.

Raging lesbian in a lavender marriage

Seduced someone working for the enemy

Is just as chaotic and at time brain cell-less as her male companions

Loyal but still willing to call her friend since childhood out on his bullshit

She canonically fucks. Like in canon she fucks so much. See above about seducing the enemy and then pepper in her on again off again romance with Martha Hudson.

#madge propaganda time : #she will flirt with basically any girl she sees and oh she does it so well #also !!! she once flirted and got on with technically an enemy in the middle of a spying mission ???? #she went like 'oh sorry just gotta go to the loo' to go spy in the house got caught and flirted so well she 1/ got laid 2/ got information #3/ came back like nothing happened #with some motivation she could flirt and get a boner from a dead rock tbh #madge stallion IS THE SEXIEST

#it's that time again #madge madge madge #she's earned it

#!!!!!

#home stretch

MADGE MADGE MADGEEEEE

Madge propaganda from a show that had the pleasure of guesting with her! At the end of the day no matter how you squeeze or present it, a great character is a great character and Madge is the best by a mile. Wonderful one-liners, complex and layered relationships with everyone in the cast around her, a messy and real depiction of female sexuality (especially a lesbian!) that she is never punished or demeaned for, and all of this brought to life in a performance that could make a phone book fun. Look and you’ll see: Madge’s writing and acting speaks for itself!

#madge here #yes you have to choose #choosemadge #we need the points #much appreciated #very sincerely yours

Antigone Funn (Wooden Overcoats):

Amazing character arc/growth; shadows follow her around; afraid of the sun; methanol is her drink of choice; is often told “I thought you were dead” despite a complete lack of evidence other than her deathly paleness; the morgue is her personal sanctuary; absolutely hilarious character; demanded to be co-owner of Funn Funerals with her brother rather than allowing him to continue running the business alone;(spoiler) decided NOT to get with her frenemy who she had been doing a will-they-won’t-they thing with the entire series!; writes smut in her free time

#antigone!!!!!!!!! #i just need one chance with her #she's perfect

#antigone!!!!!

*Cracks knuckles* Team Antigone is back and ready to do some damage. #antigone sweep year 2

#YEAR TWOOO

#Antigone sweep #!!!!

#thrilled to participate as always

This is propaganda for all the female characters. Voters please remember how pretty all women are and factor that into every single vote you make. Thank you.

VOTE FOR ANTIGONE!!!

What on earth could possibly be sexier than being presumed dead by the village she lives in at large. She genuinely cares about funerals as an art form, she puts so much care into her work. Possibly bisexual if that helps. Ghost wrote a wildly popular erotic novel with the help of village’s reverend. Come on just please vote for Antigone I’m so very sleepy and I can’t think of more reasons but I promise they’re there

EVERYONE VOTE ANTIGONE FUNN PLS

I'm voting for Antigone not because she's sexier (she is) but because she needs at least One Win in her life. #girl failure solidarity

1. she is very sexy. We know she's deathly pale, she's described as transparent more than once as well as green and blue-skinned, she's 35~38 depending on what season you're listening to. She's allergic to like everything.

Her hair is canonically always a mess and she uses it to hold on to bones and things she's gonna need later. She wears the same dress every day (it has a hole in it)

She's one with the shadows and can blend in with her surroundings to a supernatural degree.

2. She is rough and socially inept and artistic and the most passionate person you can imagine. She puts her heart and soul into her work as a mortician, SHE CREATES PERSONALIZED EMBALMING FLUIDS TO MAKE THE CORPSES SMELL NICE and she WILL tell you about it.

She is somehow always angry or flustered about something and she will pull victorian era phrases you cannot imagine. She's been saying Christ Alive since before it was cool.

3. SHE LOVES SEXY THINGS!! she is the most fitting for this tournament cause she's the queen of learning to accept her desires!! She loves old french films and their weirdly shot sex scenes, she's canonically really good at writing erotica and likes to read it too. There's a whole episode dedicated to her conquering her fears and appearing on a naked calendar. Also we hear glimpses of her fantasies and she wants to tie up and dom the guy she likes so there's that too I guess.

She spent 17 years locked in her mortuary cause she was sad. SHE WANTED TO BECOME A CLOWN AS A KID. She is everything to me and I love juno very much but she is sexier and deserves to be known that way. VOTE ANTIGONE

[andrealol7]

somewhere in the crowd theres you <3

James Potter x fem!reader

based on the song Super Trouper by ABBA

summary: When James Potter injures his arm just before a big Quidditch match, he convinces his secretly talented (but anxious) girlfriend to take his place.

tw: anxiety attack

a/n: not proofread

---

The problem starts with James being an idiot.

Or, well. Technically, it starts with a dive during practice — “for dramatic effect,” he claimed — and the next, he was on the ground clutching his arm and wincing with a dramatic flair that Sirius called “very on-brand.”

But you maintain it was his fault for trying to pull that ridiculous stunt he kept bragging about during breakfast.

“Madam Pomfrey says he’ll live,” Remus says gently beside you as you hover in the Hospital Wing, arms crossed tightly.

“Pity,” you mutter.

Sirius snorts. “She doesn’t mean that.”

You scowl. “No, I do.”

James is lounging dramatically on the infirmary bed, with a cast on his arm and an arm sling, acting like it’s he's on the verge of death.

“Don’t look so mournful, love,” he croaks at you. “Your hero lives on.”

“I don’t look mournful,” you snap. “I look furious. Because you decided to pull that ridiculous stunt earlier and now you’ve got the grace of a knocked-over bookshelf. And may I need to remind you, a day before the biggest Quidditch match of the season."

"And now how are you gonna find someone who's gonna fill out your spot just in time for tomorrow.” you continue with your eyebrows furrowed.

Its ironic how you're the one who's stressed out about this whole thing while the Quidditch captain doesn't seem to have a care in the world.

“Bookshelves are noble,” he says. “And stacked with knowledge.”

“Stacked with idiocy, apparently.”

Remus hides a smile.

James just blinks up at you like you’re the sun and he’s been staring too long. “You know what would make me feel better?”

“Let me guess,” you say dryly. “Snogging.”

“Well, that too.” He smirks. “But also — you flying for me.”

You blink. “What.”

“You. Tomorrow. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. You fill in.”

You laugh. Like, actually laugh out loud.

James just keeps smiling. “C’mon, you’re brilliant.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Y/N.” He sits up straighter, and his voice softens. “You’re the best flier I know. You just don’t like the pressure of people watching you.”

You look down. Your throat tightens.

Remus, ever the peacemaker “You’re the best flier we’ve got besides James.”

“You’ve never even seen me play,” you scoffed, heart rate already spiking.

“Please,” James groaned, “you made me eat dirt third year when we were messing around on the pitch. You flew circles around me.”

You crossed your arms. “That was a one-time thing and I was showing off because you wouldn’t shut up about your record.”

“Exactly,” James said, beaming despite the sling on his arm. “And now you get to show off again. Officially.”

A quiet moment goes by

“I…I can’t,” you murmur. “You know what happens. I freeze. My chest locks up. I feel like I’m going to faint or fall or—or die or worse, vomit in public.”

James reaches out, his fingers curling lightly around your wrist.

“Then don’t look at the crowd,” he says gently. “Just look for me.”

Your heart aches a little.

Because he says it like it’s easy.

Because part of you wants to believe he’s right.

“Look, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t believe you could do it. We’re playing Slytherin. We need you.”

You swallow. Your heart is already trying to break out of your chest, and it’s only the day before.

“But what if I mess it up?” you whisper.

James leans forward. “You won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do” with that signature grin of his.

“Really reassuring”

⸻

If someone had told you two weeks ago that you’d be starting as Seeker in the biggest Quidditch match of the year, you would’ve laughed, choked, cried, and then passed out.

In that order.

But here you are. Dressed in James’s oversized scarlet and gold jersey, broom clutched in white-knuckled hands, standing just outside the changing tent with your heart in your throat and what feels like a war inside your lungs.

Eight minutes to go.

The pitch roars outside. A blur of cheers and chants and stomping boots.

Your brain is short-circuiting.

You can’t breathe.

You’re too hot in your jersey. Your hands are shaking. There’s a stone lodged behind your ribs.

“I’m gonna die,” you mutter, sitting down hard on the bench by the tent flap.

“Bit dramatic, even for you.”

You flinch.

Sirius stands in the doorway, arms crossed, still in full gear and a crooked concern in his expression.

You try to smile.

He doesn’t smile back.

“Talk to me, Y/N.”

“I’m fine.”

“You look like you’re about to throw up and cry.”

“That’s just my face. You’ve seen it before.”

“You’re not funny.”

“No, you’re right. I’m hilarious.”

He strides over and crouches in front of you. His voice is quieter now.

“You don’t have to do this. I’ll talk to McGonagall. I’ll bloody fly two positions if I have to.”

You shake your head quickly. “No. I want to.”

Sirius studies you. His eyes soften.

“You’re terrified.”

You nod. “Yeah. Just—just give me a minute, okay? I need a second.”

A long pause.

Then, quietly “Okay.”

He squeezes your hand once. Then leaves.

Your body slumps with the effort of just existing.

You bury your face in your hands. Try to breathe like Madam Pomfrey taught you — in for four, hold for four, out for four — but your lungs still feel too small.

You’re going to mess it up.

You’re going to fall.

Everyone’s going to laugh.

“You alright?”

You jump so hard you nearly kick your broom.

James Potter.

Leaning against the post of the tent like he owns the world, hair wind-tousled, grinning at you like you’re the one who’s handsome and ridiculous.

He’s still in a sling from yesterday. Which is his fault, by the way.

You groan. “Don’t look at me.”

“Too late. Already doing it.”

“James.”

“Y/N.”

You glare. He sits beside you anyway.

“I’m fine,” you say preemptively.

“Brilliant,” he replies. “Then I won’t offer you this emergency chocolate I just so happen to have in my pocket.”

You pause.

“…What kind of chocolate?”

James grins, pulls a small Honeydukes bar from his robes, and holds it out like it’s a peace offering.

You snatch it. “Thanks.”

“So,” he says, swinging his legs under the bench. “You’re panicking, huh?”

You freeze mid-bite.

“I—no—I just—”

He raises an eyebrow.

You sigh. “Okay. Yes. Like, a lot.”

James nods. “Good. That’s normal.”

“Is it?”

“Sure.” He gestures grandly. “I panic all the time. Yesterday I forgot how to spell ‘February.’”

You snort. “That’s just because you’re stupid.”

“And you’re gorgeous and terrified. We all have our things.”

You blink at him.

He leans in, nudges your knee with his.

“Listen to me,” he says, quieter now. “You don’t have to be perfect. Just get out there. Do your thing. You don’t have to be me.”

You scoff. “Good, because I have more brain cells.”

“Debatable. But we’ll circle back.”

You laugh. It breaks the fog around your ribs a little.

James smiles.

“I’ll be in the stands. Front row. First person you’ll see when you look up.”

“What if I can’t look up?”

“Then I’ll scream so loud you’ll have to look up.”

You shake your head chuckling. “Why are you like this?”

He shrugs. “Born this way. Curse and a gift.”

You hesitate, then quietly: “Thanks. For… being here.”

He meets your eyes.

“Always,” he says simply. “Now go kick Slytherin’s arse.”

You stand, wobble slightly, then straighten your shoulders.

You’re still scared.

But he’s watching.

And somehow, that makes it easier to breathe.

-

Your vision swims.

The stands are packed — students crammed shoulder to shoulder, flags waving, chants rising like thunder.

“Breathe,” you whisper to yourself. In for four. Hold. Out for four. You repeat it. Again. Again.

“Y/N,” Sirius says behind you, voice low and protective as he tightens his gloves. “If you freeze up midair, you land. Got it? I don’t care if we’re down 200 points. You land.”

“I’ll be fine,” you mutter.

“You’re pale.”

“I’m always pale.”

He glares at you, jaw tight. He doesn’t say I’m worried out loud, but he doesn’t have to. You can see it in the twitch of his eye and the way he keeps glancing between you and the sky like he’s weighing the wind himself.

You offer a weak smile. “Try not to punch a Slytherin in midair again.”

“No promises,” he mutters.

⸻

The whistle shrieks.

You mount your broom and push off. Your stomach lurches.

The world spins around you for a second — air whipping past, people screaming, wind pressing at your ears — but you manage to stay steady.

You start flying slow circles above the match. Not diving, not chasing. Just… existing.

Barely.

The Slytherin Seeker zooms past you with a sneer. “Gryffindor couldn’t afford a real one, huh?”

You want to scream. Or vanish. Or both.

You pull your broom a little higher. Hide.

Then you hear it.

“Y/N! Y/N!“ “YOU CAN DO IT! GO! THAT’S MY GIRL!”

You blink.

The voice is obnoxiously loud — familiar and grinning.

You glance down instinctively and spot him immediately.

James Potter, front row of the Gryffindor stands, somehow out of his sling, hands cupped around his mouth as he screams.

Next to him, Remus is trying to calm him. And Peter who has somehow acquired a red-and-gold megaphone screaming encouragements.

James waves both arms in the air like a man possessed.

“SHE’S GORGEOUS AND SHE’S GOT A SNITCH TO CATCH! MOVE OUT THE WAY, SLYTHERIN!”

You laugh.

Actually laugh.

A short, stunned laugh that escapes you without permission. It rattles your chest and leaves your lungs a little lighter.

You look up.

The wind hits your face. The sun glints off something to your left, fast, bright, fluttering.

The Snitch.

You dive.

Nothing exists but the gold flicker ahead of you and the rush of air behind you.

The Slytherin Seeker spots it too and follows, but you’re faster. Lighter. Sharper.

Your heart pounds. Your eyes sting from the wind.

The cheers around you turn into a dull roar and somewhere in it, you hear him.

“YOU’VE GOT IT, LOVE! GO, GO, GO!”

And suddenly, you’re not scared.

Suddenly, you believe it.

You flew like you were born to do it.

Sharp turns. Clean dives. You didn’t even notice the eyes on you after the second lap — you were too busy focused on the wind in your hair, the sound of the air parting around your broom, the way your muscles remembered how to move.

It was like a song you’d known all along.

You chased the Snitch, heart in your throat, eyes locked, adrenaline buzzing.

Faster. Closer.

And with one final lunge—your fingers curled around it.

The whistle blows and the crowd explodes.

You can’t believe it. You actually did it.

You land shakily back on the ground, your teammates crushed you in a hug, screaming and laughing. People were chanting your name. Marlene gave you a headlock no one asked for. Even McGonagall looked impressed.

Sirius rips his helmet off midair, looking like he might cry and punch someone simultaneously. He swoops down, grabs you in a crushing hug mid-laugh.

“You absolute maniac,” he breathes. “That was insane. That was—Merlin. You did it.”

You can’t stop smiling. You’re breathless and shaking but so happy.

The team is lifting you up. Students are pouring down the stands.

But your eyes are searching for only one thing.

You’re still riding the high — the Snitch clutched in your hand, your chest tight with laughter and disbelief. Gryffindor is screaming. Red and gold confetti is falling from somewhere (you suspect Remus had a charm ready).

And then — from the crowd — comes the voice again “THAT’S MY GIRL! SHE’S A LEGEND! SHE’S—” James Potter.

Charging down from the stands like a golden retriever on fire.

You catch his eyes just as you’re lowering to the ground. He’s pushing through people like a man possessed — beaming, breathless, sprinting.

And—wait.

That’s when you finally realised.

He’s using both arms.

No sling. No careful cradle. Just full arm-swinging enthusiasm, waving at you like he’s landing a plane.

You freeze mid-step.

You glance at his shoulder. Then at your hand — still holding the Snitch. Then back at him.

He doesn’t notice. He’s too busy literally jumping up and down.

“Y/N! Did you SEE that catch? You were like—woosh! and then—bam! You’re a star, I mean—I’m amazing for choosing you, obviously, but you—”

You stare at him.

“James.”

“—and the way you dropped into the dive, Merlin, I was ready to pass out—”

“James.”

He blinks. “What?”

You just… point.

To his arm.

Now very much not broken.

The whole team starts going quiet around you. Sirius raises one eyebrow so high it practically vanishes into his hairline.

You fold your arms. “You’re not even hurt?”

James immediately backpedals. “I—I was! I mean, technically, there was a mild—”

“Mild?!”

“Okay, so I may have exaggerated the severity of the fracture—”

“It wasn’t even fractured, was it?”

“…No.”

The team loses it.

Sirius lets out an actual cackle. Remus just pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s questioning every life choice that led him here. Peter’s laughing so hard he nearly drops his wand.

“You lied,” you say, half-stunned, half-laughing. “You faked an injury.”

James holds up his hands. “I didn’t fake—okay, yes, but I had to! I wanted you to play!”

You gape at him.

“Y/N, you’re so good, and you’d never try out on your own, and I knew if I didn’t give you a reason—”

“You could’ve asked me!”

“I did! That one time in third year!”

“That doesn’t count, you offered me the Beater position as a joke!”

James grins sheepishly. “Okay, yeah, that was mostly for the flirting. But this time I was serious.”

Sirius chimes in, “You’re never serious. I’M Sirius.”

You and James both groan.

“You are—” you jab a finger into his chest, “—an absolute menace.”

“And yet…” he leans in, eyes twinkling, “…you still look good in my jersey.”

You shove him. “You’re the worst.”

He laughs. “Maybe. But you did it, didn’t you?”

You sigh, finally letting a grin creep in.

“…Yeah,” you admit. “I did.”

He beams.

“I knew you could do it,” he said, soft and proud.

And when he wraps both arms around you in a warm, full-bodied hug — with no sling, no excuse, no apology — you let him.

Because somewhere in the crowd, it was him.

Even if he was being a complete idiot.