#sofi's scwc

[a-splash-of-stucky]

Starshine

Pairings: 40s!Steve x Reader

Summary: The stars feature in some important moments throughout your life.

Warnings: Unprotected sex (not a good idea irl), major character death, loss of virginity

Notes: My entry for @nataliarxmanxva season’s change writing challenge. My prompt was: Stargazing.

Idk guys, I tried out a different writing style with this one, not sure if it worked.

Starts off cute, but ultimately, it’s angst without a happy ending (fair warning yo). I had this planned to go one way, but then this story decided to march itself in the other direction and took me along for the ride. Hope you like it nonetheless.

“Steve,” you hiss.

Steve grumbles in his sleep, then turns his back to you as he rolls over. You huff indignantly. Unfazed, you poke his side insistently until he stirs awake, blinking the sleep out of his bleary eyes.

“Y/N?” Steve yawns, “What’re you doin’?”

“C’mon, ya big lug,” you whisper, grabbing his thin wrist and pulling him off the bed, “It’s a clear night,”. You pick up the small canvas bag you’d dropped on the floor, pulling it open to show him the contents. “See? I snuck some apples from home and packed some papers and a graphite for ya,”.

Steve shakes his head, trying his best to look more disgruntled than he really is. “You go on up,” he says, flapping his hand at you in a shooing motion, “I’ll join you in a bit,”.

You flash him a grin, then slip out of his window and climb up the fire escape, all the way to the top of the building. You make your way across the mottled roof, taking care to avoid the murky puddles and dodgy weak spots, heading towards a pair of overturned crates in the far corner. It’s a path that you know by heart, as familiar to you as the back of your hand; you’re positive that you could make this journey with your eyes blindfolded. The canvas bag gets dropped onto one of the crates and you collapse in front of the other, feet planted against the brick wall, face tilted towards the sky.

The view that greets you is one you could never tire of.

The stars are beautiful, twinkling like the lights you see strung up along the sides of the boardwalk — except, of course, so much more magnificent; ethereal in their own right.

Steve’s head pops up over the edge of the roof. He gives you a brief wave, then clambers over. One of his mother’s blankets is slung over his shoulder. He crosses the roof with quickness and ease, as familiar with the path as you are, if not more.

“Hey,” Steve murmurs, handing over the blanket as he sits down beside you, “Thought you might get cold,”.

“Nah,” you drawl, not bothering to tear your gaze away from the sky, “It’s the middle of summer. I’ll probably use it to wipe off my sweat,”.

“Don’t,” Steve warns, dragging the bag closer to pull out the graphite and a couple of sheets of paper, “Ma’ll have my head if she has to wash it again,”.

“Only jokin’, ya great mook,”.

Steve shakes his head, muttering darkly under his breath as he begins to draw. Dark lines bloom over the page in an entrancing show. Nothing could make this moment any more perfect, there’s nowhere you’d rather be; you’re always happiest when you’re by Steve’s side, despite how mundane and unexciting that may be.

You smile internally as you observe him, feeling your heart twinge with longing. In the stillness that falls, you drink in Steve’s profile, memorising the crooked slope of his nose, the angular lines of his jaw, the gentle curve of those lips you yearn to taste. When his fringe flops over his forehead, your fingers itch to comb it back into place.

Fearful that Steve might catch you staring, you force yourself to revert your gaze to the skies above. In all honesty, you’re terrified of these urges. They creep up on you when you least expect, and have been making their presence known more and more frequently in the past few weeks. You’re not sure what to make of them. They’re probably indicative of something more — feelings and thoughts you’re not quite ready to pull out and examine, let alone acknowledge.

Time passes.

You don’t know how long the two of you sit there, shoulders pressed together, you nibbling on an apple and Steve concentrating on his drawing. You’re so absorbed in your own thoughts that it takes you a while to realise that Steve’s hands have stopped moving altogether. When you turn to face him, Steve has a funny expression on his face — awe and reverence and guilt all rolled into one. A flush spreads across his cheeks and down his neck when he realises that he’s been caught.

Steve casts his eyes downwards and fiddles with his chunk of graphite, scratching it idly on the edge of the page. “There’s something I need ta tell you,” he says quietly.

Instead of replying, you rest your cheek against his shoulder, a silent invitation for him to continue.

Steve hesitates for a second. When he speaks, his voice is slow and hesitant, in a way you hardly ever hear it. “There’s…a girl,”.

“A girl?” you repeat, tone questioning and confused, even as dread swirls in the pit of your stomach.

“I like her,”.

“Oh,” you murmur, suddenly thankful that your face is hidden from Steve’s gaze, because you know that the expression you’re wearing is anything but neutral. You feel as if pieces of your heart are crumbling away, tumbling into a yawning chasm of despair. Of course he likes someone else. Why would Steve want a girl like you?

“And…I’m hoping, really, really hoping, that she likes me back,” Steve continues, hooking his finger under your chin and tipping your head up towards him. You catch something flickering across his eyes; apprehension mixed with…an emotion you can’t name.

“I’m sure she will, Stevie,” you reply, forcing a smile onto your features to mask the agony lancing through your chest, “You’re…the best kind of fella a girl could ever want. You’re kind, and thoughtful, and you…why’re you looking at me like that?”

Steve barks out a nervous laugh. “It’s you. I like…you,” he confesses, a tender little smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

The first kiss you ever had happened under the stars. Turns out, the night could become more perfect, after all.

———————————

When his mother dies a year later, you bring him up to the roof.

Steve has been strong the entire day, not shedding a single tear or even twitching a muscle as they lowered her casket into the grave. His face had been a stoic mask, seemingly unaffected by the day’s events.

What a lie.

After the funeral, Steve had wandered through the burnt orange and burgundy leaves of the cemetery with Bucky by his side, probably in search of a fight to take his mind off things. Bucky had invited him back to the Barnes’ for dinner, but Steve had said that he could get by on his own, thank you very much, in that stubborn way of his.

Steve put up no resistance when you drag him up the rickety fire escape and haul him over to the crates. You push him onto the floor and sink down beside him, encircling your fingers around his wrist. His body is as rigid as a board, like he’s fighting to keep himself in check.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you whisper.

They’re just four simple words, but they break him all the same. Steve collapses into your arms, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his shoulders heave and tremble with grief. Heart-wrenchingly broken sobs rip free of his throat. You hold him tight as silent tears trickle down your own cheeks and fall onto his fine blonde hair.

As much as you want Steve to let it all out, your instincts kick in when you register the nature of his breathing; far too ragged and strained for your liking. You do your best to calm him down, murmuring soothing words with your lips pressed to his forehead. They’re meaningless words, really, words that he doesn’t hear, too distraught to even process.

Eventually, Steve’s sobs quieten down as his breathing evens out. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s fallen asleep. Thankfully, Steve is light enough for you to be able to shift him into a more comfortable position, with your back against the crates and his body curled tight against your side. His cheek is pillowed on your collarbone, and one hand clutches the front of your dress. You tip your head back, in search of those sparkling diamonds that never fail to put you at ease.

It’s a cloudy night. They’re not there.

In a way, that is fitting. The stars — magnificent and pure as they are — should not be out on this night, when heartache and loss are thick in the air, suffocating you by the weight of their misery. On the night of Sarah Rogers’ funeral, the skies paid their respects and Steve Rogers took comfort in your embrace.

———————————

“The stars are beautiful tonight,” you sigh, as you lay your head in Steve’ s lap.

“Sure are,” Steve replies, twirling a strand of your hair around his fingers.

Your eyes flick up to glance at him. “You’re not even looking at them!” you protest, when you see that Steve’s gaze is trained on your face.

Steve shrugs one shoulder. “Don’t have to. I trust your judgement. ‘Sides,” he continues, stroking the back of his hand over your cheek, “I got a prettier view right here,”.

“Charmer,” you tease, even as a rush of uninhibited joys dances up your spine.

———————————

Bucky ships out the day after tomorrow.

It’s rare for him to join you and Steve on the roof, but understandably, he wants to spend as much time with the two of you as possible. The three of you have stayed up late, talking into the wee hours of the morning. Steve’s just dozed off, head pillowed on your shoulder, feet propped up by Bucky’s legs.

“You’ll look after him?” Bucky asks abruptly, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Of course I will,” you reply, voice as sincere as you can make it, “I swear on my life,”.

“Good,” Bucky says curtly. There’s a tense set to his shoulders that wasn’t there when Steve was awake. You know how close the two of them are; Bucky has known Steve for longer than you have, loves him like Steve’s a part of his very soul. Getting his orders had been hard on them both, but Bucky’s been desperately trying to put on a brave face.

“Can’t stop him from gettin’ into trouble,” you tell him,  “But I’ll patch him up as best as I can after,”.

Bucky’s lips twitch at that.

“I need you to promise me something,” he says quietly, reaching over to grasp your hand.

“Anything,” you reply, swallowing back the lump in your throat.

He hesitates, chewing on the inside of his cheek. When he speaks, his voice is thick with sorrow. “If I—don’t—come back…you’ll…you’ll make sure he moves on?”

“Bucky…” you breathe, placing your other hand on top of his, “You—,”

“I can’t promise that I will,” Bucky says, twisting his head away, but not before you catch the glimmer of unshed tears in his eyes. “I might, I might not. He can’t…he needs…”

“Okay,” you whisper, “Okay, Bucky, I promise,”.

The stars bear witness to your oath.

———————————

The two of you sit side-by-side in stony silence the day after Bucky leaves.

Steve does not cry. He has not spoken for the entire afternoon. He is, for all intents and purposes, a lifeless zombie.

Bucky had been a part of him, present in the blood that courses through his veins, formed the very fibres of his heart. To have something so crucial ripped out of your life so viciously — you can’t even begin to imagine what kind of horrendous agony Steve must be suffering through.

There are no stars that night.

( Neither are they there a few years later, when Steve comes back and says — in a choked, wretched voice that holds all the anguish in the world — two syllables: “He’s gone,”. )

———————————

Steve is overjoyed.

“I’m going, Starshine!” he cries, for perhaps the hundredth time in as many minutes, “I mean it’s only basic, but—,”

“—it’s still something,” you finish, lips curling up into a tired smile. A part of you is ecstatic for him; little Steve Rogers, the punk ass kid from the back streets of Brooklyn is finally getting a chance to live out his dream, laying down his life for the country.

A larger part of you is terrified. What if his lungs give out? What is his back aches too much? There’re no boys in that camp who’ll know how to rub away the pain, let alone want to.

“Hey,” Steve murmurs, cupping your face in his hands, noticing the concern pinching your features, “It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay,”.

“I’d just like you to be more that okay, Rogers,” you grumble, in an attempt to lighten the mood. Unexpectedly, Steve pulls you into a fierce hug, wrapping his bony arms around your shoulders. He verbalises nothing, but the silence says everything; a million unspoken words, more potent than anything you could have ever articulated.

When you look up, there are stars in the sky, but they are not dancing. They look dimmer than normal. But then again, maybe that’s just your outlook on life, now that Steve’s being taken away.

———————————

“Starshine?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you still love me?” Steve asks.

Do you? Is this still your Steve?

He looks different at first glance, bigger and broader and soldier-like now, a body to match the fighting spirit raging inside him. But, if you study him for long enough, you can still see the same bump in his nose from when it set wrong after he broke it in ninth grade (during an alleyway scrabble, of course). The curve of his smile is unchanged and his eyes haven’t lost their mischievous sparkle.

Yes. This is still your Steve.

“Yeah,” you reply, not a hint of hesitation in your voice, “Big or small, you’re still my punk ass sweetheart and I love you all the same,”.

Steve showed up out of the blue tonight, arriving on your doorstep looking like a whole new person on the outside, but still fumbling and gentle and tender at heart. He can’t — or, perhaps more accurately, won’t — tell you what’s been done to him, but you can see that he’s healthier, that he’s breathing properly and hasn’t even broken out in sweat after climbing up the fire escape to the top of your brownstone.

It’s strange having to tuck your body against his, rather than having Steve curl around yours. It takes some work, figuring out how to fit yourselves together, how to rest your cheek on his chest, where his arms should go. You manage in the end, both your faces tilted upwards, admiring the lights that sparkle prettily against the backdrop of night.

“I can see ‘em better, y’know?” Steve murmurs.

Of course. His astigmatism meant that to him, the stars were little more than bright, blurry dots in the far-off distance. You remember attempting to teach Steve the names of the constellations once, but it’d been too difficult for him to see the formations, so you’d given up partway. Now, with his enhanced vision, he can probably see them better than you can.

“Can I try again? Teach you?” you ask, twisting your neck to look at his face.

“Sure,” he replies, voice rumbling deep in his chest.

You cast your eyes upwards and point towards the left of your field of vision. “Orion,” you say, gesturing towards the cluster of stars that make up the fabled hunter. “That’s you,” you quip, poking  his shoulder playfully, “He’s a fighter, just like someone else I know,”.

“Really, now?” Steve hums, lips curling up into a half-smirk, “So if ya miss me, all ya gotta do is look up and look for Orion, huh?”

“Or, I could just look down a couple’a alleyways,” you retort, “I’d find ya quick enough,”.

He snorts indignantly, shaking his head in amusement. “Probably not wrong,” he mutters.

———————————

Steve has to go to the other side of the world.

You have to let him go.

Though he’s stronger now, sometimes when you look at him, you still see the ghost of his past self, the boy with the frail, uneven shoulders, permanently stuffed-up nose and wheezing lungs. Steve has always been insistent on getting by on his own, but is now actually capable of doing just that, you know this.

But knowing and knowing are two different things.

“Don’t cry, Starshine,” Steve whispers, dragging you into his lap and wrapping his tree-trunk arms around you. “I—it’s gonna be okay,”.

“That’s what you’re supposed to say,” you mumble. Steve chuckles mirthlessly, rubs his thumb in soothing circles at the small of your back.

He tips his head back to look at the stars, goes quiet and pensive for a moment as he chews on his bottom lip. “If I don’t—,”

“Don’t say it,” you interrupt, smacking his shoulder hard, “Don’t you dare say it, Steve Rogers,”.

“Okay, but if—,”

“I said n—,”

“If,” Steve says, louder this time, to get your attention, “If I don’t—,”

“Listen here, you punk,” you growl, angrily brushing away your tears as you sit up straighter and look him dead in the eye, “You listen ta me, Steve Rogers, you will come home, alright? You’re gonna come home to me, because you’ve come out of every damn fight ya pick — bruised, battered or worse, I don’t care, but you will come back,”. Your voice breaks at the last word, a terrified sob clawing its way free of your throat.

Steve is silent.

He cups your face with both hands, uses his thumbs to wipe away the tear stains on your cheeks. “Starshine,” he murmurs, the familiar endearment rolling off his tongue and touching your heart in an intimate caress, “If I don’t, you’ll look up, yeah? Orion, remember? I’ll always be there for you,”.

“But I want you here, not there,” you sniffle, leaning forward to bury your face against Steve’s neck. You inhale deeply, in the hopes of memorising his smell; crisp and clean, like ripe apples on a summer’s afternoon, like the salty sea-spray on your face as you walk along the beach. Your fingers map out his shoulders, his collarbones, his chest — thick and muscular and strong, where it used to be nothing more than bones wrapped in fragile skin. You don’t know this new body well enough, though you ache to, need to—

“Kiss me,” you breathe, lifting your face to look at Steve as you wipe your snotty nose on your sleeve. He smiles at you — though it’s only a shadow of his real one — then tilts his head down, grazing his lips over yours. Steve wants to go slow, but you’re done with slow, there’s no time for it. You surge forward, tangling your fingers through his hair as you crush your lips against his, not bothering to be gentle because this body is built for war, built to battle the demons on the other side of the ocean.. Steve is no longer your delicate china plate.

He never was, really.

You kiss like it’s the last time you’ll ever kiss him — and who knows, maybe it is (but don’t think about that now, don’t think about that). It’s passionate and heated, all lips and tongue and nipping teeth. Steve moans into the kiss, lets his hands slide further down your back—

—and all of a sudden, you realise what you want. You convey your desires to him by not-so-subtly grinding into his crotch, relishing the way Steve involuntarily bucks his hips against you, gasping against your lips.

“Starshine,” he breathes, pulling back a fraction to look you in the eyes, “Are you—,”

“I want this, Steve,” you whisper heatedly, fisting your fingers in the front of his shirt, “Please—I—you—,”.

“Okay,” he soothes, peppering soft kisses down your cheek, “Okay, I want this too,”.

“I can tell,” you giggle, pointedly flicking your eyes down to the front of his pants, where an impressive bulge is starting to form.

Steve lays you down with your head pillowed on his jacket. The two of you had not dared to do this before, mostly because Steve was too sick most of the time. Even on a healthy day — by Steve standards — you didn’t want to take the risk, for fear of triggering an asthma attack or something.

This new body comes with its advantages, it seems.

He is tentative at first, careful to touch only above the waist, and even then, avoiding your breasts completely. His fingers tremble when they unbutton your shirt, but his palms are warm against your naked skin, his artist’s fingers worshipping every inch of your body they can get to. Steve’s touch is exhilarating. No one has ever seen you like this, but you are not ashamed, not when it’s Steve, not when it’s under the stars.

Steve closes his lips around your nipple and you gasp, arching your body skywards as the electric sensations radiate through your nerves, stoking the embers in your core. You whine and whimper with need, tugging frantically at his shirt, desperate to feel his bare skin against yours.

You bring Steve’s fingers to touch your wetness and his eyes widen in awe, expression curious and thoughtful as he traces his thumb over your slick folds. Steve watches how you squirm and writhe beneath him; you’re going crazy from the pleasure he is bestowing upon you.

When your bodies become one, the stretch is unlike anything you have ever felt before, too much, too full, too overwhelming, but at the same time not enough — you can never get enough of this man. Steve growls low in the back of his throat as your walls flutter around him. Heated gasps and impassioned moans spill from your lips as he slowly, carefully rocks into you.

You surrender everything you have to Steve, trusting him completely — if you cannot follow him into the jaws of death, then you can sure as hell give him something momentous to remember you by. You’re holding him as tightly as you can, legs hooked around his waist, one hand laced through his hair and the other digging into the meat of his shoulder.

Pleasure bubbles low in your gut like a swirling, sticky syrup that makes your body feel like it’s floating on a cloud of bliss; high on Steve’s scent, drunk on his taste, intoxicated by the feel of his body over yours. When you reach your climax, Steve kisses you passionately, swallowing your helpless mewls as your body trembles in his arms. He noses at the underside of your jaw, mouths wet kisses against your neck as his hips rut wildly into you—

—and then he’s spilling his release inside your body, filling you with his warmth. Steve slumps down, forehead resting on your shoulder, breathless and sated and overjoyed. Your heart feels full, holding inside it a love for Steve that is as big as the universe, as bright as the stars shining above.

You look up at them and smile, knowing that whenever your heart aches with longing, whenever the burden of his absence becomes too heavy to bear, you can always look up, look for Orion and find peace. Steve will never be too far away, regardless of where he goes, because the stars will always be here. They will forever remind you of Steve; of sweltering summer midnights on grimy Brooklyn roofs, of a boy with charcoal-dirtied fingers and a sharp mouth, of too-ripe pears and a threadbare blanket.

The stars will always be there to remind you.

———————————

The war may be over, but you’re not done fighting your battles.

It’s a struggle to have to wake up everyday, to look into your daughter’s gorgeous blue eyes, comb your fingers through her soft blond hair and be reminded of what you never had. She has Steve’s smile, and — unfortunately — his stubbornness, but you love her all the same. You treasure her fiercely, because she is all you have left to remind you of him.

Tonight, the battle is especially tough.

The plane crashed on this day, three years ago.

You’re lying on a picnic blanket in your garden, Sarah’s head pillowed on your stomach and your fingers idly braiding a few strands of her hair. It’s a muggy summer’s night, not a breeze about to stir the humid air, so your shirt sticks to your sweat-slick skin.

“Mama?” Sarah asks.

“Yeah, baby?” you reply, stroking the back of your hand over her forehead.  

“Tell me ‘bout the stars again,”.

When you look upwards, you see that the sky is clear and the stars have come out to play. “Okay, well, there’s Leo, the lion,” you begin, gesturing skywards, “Ursa Major—,”.

“Big dipper!” Sarah cries.

“Uh-huh,” you laugh, “And then Ursa Minor’s the little one,”.

You continue teaching her the constellations as you spot them, chuckling whenever Sarah stumbles over the more complicated names, like Aquarius. When you get to Orion, your voice sticks in your throat, blocked by a sudden lump. Tears sting at the corners of your eyes.

“What’s wrong, mama?” Sarah asks, sitting up to look at you, concerned by your silence.

“It’s—nothing, baby,” you whisper, “It’s—Orion. That’s the last one up there,”.

Sarah nods, leaning her head back to look in the direction you’re pointing. “That’s daddy, right?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, fighting to hold back the sob that is tickling the back of your throat, “That’s your daddy, sweetheart. He’s watching over us. Watchin’ over you, baby,”.

“Will he ever come down to see us?”

A wet laugh wrenches free of your throat, giddy and sorrowful at the same time. “He’s not comin’ down, sugar,” you reply, taking her wrist and pulling her to your chest, “He’s up there forever,”. Sarah hums, turning her head to pillow her cheek on your shoulder. You press a kiss to the top of her head.

“I never got to see him,” Sarah says quietly.

A couple of tears escape. You take a shuddery breath. “You can see him any night you want, sugar,” you tell her, “All you gotta do is come out here, find Orion, over there, and say whatever you want. Daddy’s listening. He’s so proud of you, baby, he’d be so happy if he got to see ya. Why don’t ‘cha give daddy a wave?”

Sarah does, giggling a little at the silliness of it.

The realisation dawns upon you then, blinding in its truth and leaving you awe-struck by your ignorance.

Sarah is not the only piece of Steve you have to hold onto. There was something to make you think of him before she was even created, something ever-present and never-changing.

They remind you of ice packs and bandaged cuts, knobbly knees and bony shoulders.

They remind you of plump pink lips and joyous laughter, sneaking out way past curfew and sharing kisses when you realised what love was.

They remind you of a boy with a spirit bigger than his brain, fuelled by a fire that blazed brighter than the sun; a boy always raring and ready for a fight, fists perpetually up and nose nearly always bloody. A boy with a pure heart and kind soul, who loved you unconditionally.

They’ll be there to remind you of the best night you’ve ever lived through, when you gave yourself completely to the man you loved.

The stars will always be there to remind you.

[killmongerdreams]

picnic baskets

 summary: my fic for @nataliarxmanxva‘s seasons change writing challenge || fluff || dad!bucky x reader ||

warnings: just a bunch of fluff, short and sweet

note: Better late than never. (I forgot I had this done like two weeks ago and just got around to putting it in my queue to post. Whoops.) This is one of the extras to my fic Parenthood.

“What are we doing?” Grant shifts in his seat at the table, trying to peer into the basket sitting on the top. Bucky merely smiles at his son as he continues to fold the blanket in his hands. 

“It’s your mama’s birthday today.” Bucky explains. “And we’re gonna take her on a picnic.”

“Picnic?” Anna repeats excitedly. She bounds into the dining room, dark curls flopping over her forehead as she hops into a chair, hairbrush clutched tight in her hand. Bucky places the blanket in the basket before grabbing the brush offered to him. He grabs the hair tie from around his wrist, carefully tying her locks into a neat, tight ponytail that he doubts will stay put for long. Anna was a whirlwind on her best days, and nothing about her stayed prim and proper or clean for more than an hour at most. He prays that the park wasn’t too muddy, because otherwise her white, pristine overalls are going to face a very unfortunate demise very quickly. 

“As soon as mama gets back with Becks,” Bucky explains, kissing her head. “We’re gonna go to the park and have us a picnic and give mama her presents.”

“What did you get her, daddy?” Grant asks curiously. He reaches into his pocket at the mention of presents, making sure the necklace he was going to give you was well and safe in it’s little pouch. It was a little locket, a picture of him and his sisters on one side and then of you and Bucky on your wedding day in the other. He’d spent so long trying to choose the perfect pictures.

Bucky smirks a little, thinking back to how he woke up with you earlier that morning before he shakes his head, clearing himself of his thoughts. He leans in, raising his eyebrows like he has the best secret in the world. “You really wanna know?” 

Both of his children nod, eyes wide in wonder. Bucky reaches into his own pocket, pulling out a small, velvet box. He opens it slowly, watching their faces light up. It’s a ring, simple in design compared to the engagement ring he gave to you so many years ago.

“So pretty,” Anna breathes out. She touches it with a single fingertip, grinning wide. She was always the one easily distracted by shiny things.

“You see the stones?” Bucky asks, watching them nod. “They’re for the three of you. The blue one is Grant’s, the pink one is for Anna, and the purple one is for Becca.”

“Where’s the one for you?” Anna asks curiously. 

Bucky smiles, flipping the ring over so they can peer at the inside of the ring. There, inscribed into the silver band, is a small star. 

“It matches the one on your arm.” Grant points out. 

“That’s right, buddy.” Bucky tells him. “It’s something that she can wear to know we’re with her, even if we’re not there physically.”

“We’re there in her heart.” Anna says, seeming wise beyond her years. 

“Exactly.” Bucky slips the ring back into his pocket, sighing in relief that his children approve of the gift. “Now, c’mon, rugrats, let’s pack this picnic for mama.”

“Are we bringing oreos?” Grant asks, making his little sister nod along eagerly. “It wouldn’t be a picnic without them.”

“You know mama loves them!” Anna adds on. 

“And I know you two little terrors love them, too.” Bucky eyes them with a knowing look, trying to hold back his smirk. 

“We’re just thinkin’ about mama.” Grant says, doe eyes trained innocently on the kitchen cabinet where the oreos were kept.

“We’re trying to make mama happy.” Anna can’t help but giggle, squealing when Bucky playfully tugs on her ponytail.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m onto you two.” Bucky rolls his eyes. “I’ll give you one or two after we get this basket packed, okay? Then the rest are for the picnic with mama.”

Grant and Anna cheer, hopping from their seats to follow Bucky into the kitchen.

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@retroasgardian @jurassicbarnes @sanjariti @rotisserierogers @persephone-is-here-omg @thewinterswimmer @sebashtiansatan @bootypoppinbarnes @221bshrlocked @charliexowrite @marvelous-fvcks @thecrownedrose @4theluvofall @caplansteverogers @imsecretlyromanburki @feelmyroarrrr @givemethatgold @ivartrash @captainpoopweinersoldier @plumfondler @minervaem @simplyme8308 @papi-chulo-bucky @kindnesswins @waywardimpalawriter @duskshadowz @sexylibrarian1 @asifblackmagic @just-call-me-your-darling @magellan-88 @pineapplebooboo @supernaturaldean67 @hollycornish @thinkwritexpress-official @nativesebby @whothehellisbella @cassandra-munn @sebastian-stans-thighs @bidianaprinxe @zombiewerewolfqueen @chaoswandas @beebossinner @fandomlyawsome @lovelynemesis @nataliarxmanxva @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @blossombarnes @sniktlogan

[captainmarvels]

bittersweet {1}

Summary: Steve lost you once, and he doesn’t want to risk it again. Too bad he only has three months. | modern AU

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: This is part 1 of my entry for my lovely Sofi’s [ @nataliarxmanxva ] writing challenge! My prompt is Summertime Sadness, by Lana Del Rey, which appears in the second part. This is also my first actual Steve fic, so I hope you all enjoy! | masterlist

A midnight summer’s dream.

Something that sounds… unattainable.

Unrealistic.

Too good to be true.

Coming home to Brooklyn after years abroad, you never thought you’d stick out more. You were the talk of the town; well in this case, the neighborhood. You couldn’t stand on your front porch without hearing hushed whispering somewhere on the street.

As much as you loved and missed Brooklyn, it just wasn’t for you.

You only returned at your mother’s request; it had been 5 years since you had last stepped foot in your childhood home, and she wanted to see you one last time before you settled in Europe.

You accepted, knowing full well it would be the last time you’d ever come back. One summer. Three months. No problem.

Or so you thought.

You had one condition for your return home; no men. Your time and work abroad had left zero time for dating, which you were more than okay with. You had sat through more than enough breakups with your best friends to know just how terrible and cruel love - and men - could be.

You refused to let a man ruin your last summer at home. If you were going to come back, it was going to be hassle-free.

You returned earlier than planned, as a surprise. You asked your childhood best friend and neighbor, James, to pick you up from the airport. He had grown up to be a proud, fine man. You were glad the two of you had kept in touch after high school; being best friends with an Army man was difficult enough as it is. You practically jumped into his arms once you stepped outside, your bags dropping to the ground as he lifted you up, laughing.

“Long time no see, munchkin.” You smacked the back of his head, prompting a roll of his eyes as he set you down. “What? I thought you loved that nickname, Y/N.”

“You are still the worst person alive, Barnes. How’ve you been?” You grabbed your backpack, graciously letting James take your two suitcases as you headed for his car.

“Pretty good, actually. I’m on leave for the summer, so you’re stuck with me for the next few months, kid.”

“I am no kid! Just because you’re 4 months older than me does not make me the kid, James.” He chuckles, nodding as he stops in front of his truck.

“Alright, alright. Your mom invited me over for dinner tonight, said there was something she wanted to talk to me about before you show up. You okay with being alone for a bit?” You nodded, sighing as you imagined just what your mother wanted to discuss with him.

“As long as you promise to tell me what she tells you, Bucky.”

“There it is. I was wondering how long it would take for you to slip back into your old ways, doll.” You punched him in the arm, giggling as he tried to hit you back, to no avail.

“It’s good to be home!”

You found yourself staring a little too intently at Bucky’s decor as you took a quick stroll through his house. You knew the man had no taste, but clearly someone living in his place did.

“You got a secret girlfriend or something? There is no way in hell you designed this place. Not by yourself, at least.” You turn to face him, rolling your eyes as he places his hand over his heart, stepping back against the wall.

“Your words hurt, munchkin. They hurt. Your mom and Steve helped, actually.” There it is.

“Oh?” You tried to hide the excitement in your voice, but Bucky knew you too well.

“Yes, Y/N. Steve is still here, unfortunately.”

“Don’t talk like that, Buck. It’s been years. Actually, like a freaking decade.” He rolls his eyes, prompting you to do the same. “You’re so stubborn, you know?”

“When it comes to him, yeah. Also, you have no right to pull the ‘it’s been years’ card, missy.”

You drop down onto his couch, sighing peacefully as you sink into the plush cushions.

“Oh, please. I’m over it, unlike someone.” Bucky sits down across from you, resting his feet atop his coffee table.

“Yeah, the way you perked up at the sound of his name definitely means you’re over it.”

“Shut up, jerk.”

“Punk.”

He’s not wrong, you know.

“Shut up,” You mutter to yourself, grabbing your glass of wine off the counter. You make yourself comfortable on Bucky’s massive couch, throwing your favorite blanket on top.

You manage to make it through a few episodes of 30 Rock before hearing the front door open, the lock clicking soon after. Bucky strolls into the main room, shrugging his peacoat off while slipping out of his dress shoes.

“Wow, very fancy, Mr. Barnes. Didn’t know my mom was some celebrity.” You chuckle as he rolls his eyes, bunching up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows.

“Funny. We need to talk.” He sits down next to you, moving your legs onto his lap. You sit up, setting your glass on the table next to you.

“About what?” You ask.

“Steve.”

“What is there to talk about? I told you, I’m over it.”

“Yeah, well we both know that’s a flat out lie, so,” You throw a cushion at him, which he gracefully catches, throwing you a side eye as he sets it down. “Seriously, Y/N. It’s been ten years - don’t tell me you’re still in love with him.”

“I was never in love with him, James!” You say, smacking him in the arm as you bring your knees into your chest.

“He forgets we exist for the past ten years, and you talked about him every day like he was still our best friend, Y/N. If that’s not love, then clearly-”

“I hate you. And he didn’t forget we existed. Just because he was off doing his own thing in Belgium-”

“For almost ten years, Y/N! He said it was going to be one year, and he’d be back with us at NYU in no time. All he ever cared about was himself, and you know it.” Bucky shakes his head, resting his arm on the back of the couch as he turns to face you.

“I told you I was over it. Don’t bring this all back again.”

Fresh out of high school, the golden trio - Bucky, you, and Steve - were ready to take on the world. The three of you were set to attend NYU together; Bucky enrolled in the ROTC program part-time, Steve on a fast-track science program, and your five-year master's program. Everything was like a dream; living with your best friends in the heart of New York city, doing what you loved best.

Unfortunately, that dream came apart as quickly as it had come together.

Steve was offered the chance to take a gap year and do research with NYU scientists in Europe; he was the science genius in the group, so it was no wonder he was chosen for the competitive program. The opportunity was once in a lifetime; he would be able to take classes abroad, and his full ride scholarship would cover all the costs.

He felt horrible that he was ruining the plan the three of you had spent months putting together, but you and Bucky knew this was a big deal, and it was more important that Steve live up to the potential he had.

His last night in the city, the three of you spent in your new apartment, plates full of pizza and wings sitting in your laps as you finished the fifth Harry Potter film.

“How long’s the flight again, champ?” Bucky asks from the kitchen, his eyes focused on the pizza in front of him.

“A little under 9 hours; I have a layover in London.”

“Wow, enthralling. Don’t die!” You whisper, not looking away from the screen.

“Not nice! I hate flying, but this is worth it.” You laugh, nodding as you pat Steve on the shoulder.

“Just promise you won’t forget about us when you become famous, big shot.” Bucky says, sitting down on the couch behind you. You look over at Steve, pointing at Bucky and nodding.

“What he said, Rogers. I didn’t waste the last 16 years of my life being friends with you for nothin’!” The boys roar out in laughter, Steve throwing a napkin at you as you double over, nearly dropping your plate onto the floor.

“I hate and love you guys. Don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“Ew, don’t get sappy on us now, Stevie. Otherwise I’ll have to punch you before you get on the plane.” You laugh, high fiving Bucky as Steve just rolls his eyes.

“Remember to send us postcards; I doubt we’ll be leaving this place anytime soon.” You all laugh again, tears welling up in your eyes from all the joy. Steve wraps his arm around your shoulders, his other hand hitting Bucky in the knee.

“I promise I won’t forget you, as long as you promise to hold these movie nights forever.” You lock eyes with him, nodding before turning to Bucky.

“Always; it’s a lifelong tradition!”

It was only a short time after Steve had left, and the new chapter of your lives began, when Bucky confessed something.

You were at a frat party; having lost a bet to Bucky, you were his designated driver for the night. You were sitting on the back porch of the apartment, secluded from the rest of the drunk students, Bucky’s head was resting on your shoulder, his breath heavy with the smell of beer and vodka.

“Y’know, there’s something I’ve been meanin’ to tell ya for some time now, Y/N.” Bucky’s words were somewhat coherent, considering you took away his last beer nearly an hour ago.

“What’s that, Bucky?” You glanced over at him, seeing his eyes shut.

“Remember Stevie’s last night with us? When I sent you downstairs to see if our neighbor had plates we could use so we didn’t have to… have to wash our own?” He giggles, burping while trying to focus on his train of thought.

“Yes, I remember. What about it?”

“Stevie made me do it so he could... so he could tell me he liked you.” Bucky’s head drops, and you carefully guide him to rest on your lap.

“You sure this isn’t something your drunk self is making up, Barnes?” You play with his hair, trying your best not to let his words get to you.

“No, no, I swear. Stevie didn’t wanna tell ya because… uh, because he said he didn’t wanna ruin his chances with you. Said somethin’ like he didn’t think you should have to deal with inconsistency on his part because of uh, distance. Yeah.” His soft snores follow soon after, and you shake your head, covering him with his jacket. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

Except Bucky does.

The next morning, he brings you breakfast in bed, a pair of sunglasses perched on his face.

“Good morning, hangover.”

“Shut up and eat, loser. Remember what I said last night?” Your eyes widen, nodding as he sits down on your bed.

“You remember, too? I thought you were still drunk.”

“Drunk me has a very great memory, apparently. It’s weird. Anyways - wanna talk about it?” You shake your head no, your mouth full of pancakes. “You sure? I know you have the biggest crush on him so-”

“Had, Barnes. I’ve been getting over it since he told us he was leaving. I’m okay; promise. Besides, Steve did the best thing for us both; I don’t think I would’ve been okay with him dropping something like that on me when he was going to be gone for so long.” Bucky nods, reassuringly squeezing your knee as you took a bite of your toast.

“What do you say to some Dexter later?”

“Oh hell yes.”

Steve’s gap year eventually turned into years; his time abroad pushing him towards brighter and better opportunities. Sadly, that meant leaving a few things behind. Including you and Bucky.

“First he said one year. One. Now it’s four years later, I’m about to graduate, and he can’t fly in for one lousy weekend? Who the hell does he think he is?” Bucky was shouting at no one in particular, his hands running through his hair as he paced back and forth in front of you.

“He’s speaking at a symposium in Poland that weekend, Buck. There’s not much he can do.”

“He knew about it since October, Y/N. He definitely could’ve at least tried to figure something out. Steve doesn’t care anymore.”

“Don’t say that, James; we don’t know what-”

“Exactly! We don’t know what’s been happening with him because he’s forgotten about us, Y/N. Take the fucking hint; he doesn’t care.”

“I know you don’t want to remember, but it’s kind of hard not to. He’s a shitty friend, Y/N.” Bucky’s head rests in his hands, your own heart sinking at the thought of his words. At the thought of your best friend.

“What were you going to tell me? Why are we even talking about Steve?” You whisper, wrapping the blanket closer to your body.

“Your mom asked me if I thought it was a good idea for him to stop by the house and see you. He’s been back for a month, and she let slip you were coming home. He really wants to see you, but I don’t want to see you getting hurt. Especially by him.” You roll your eyes, gently shoving Bucky with the heel of your foot. “What?” He asks, glancing at you.

“I can take care of myself. I’m not the same girl Rogers left behind ten years ago. I want to see him, James.” He sighs, reluctantly nodding his head as he moves to stand up. You grab him by the arm, locking eyes with him as he raises an eyebrow.

“Tomorrow. I want to see Steve tomorrow.”

[persephone-is-here-omg]

Blue Jeans.

Pairing: Chase Collins/Reader.

Warnings: SMUT. Blood, magic, knives, toxic relationsips, angst.

Word Count: 1703.

Rating: 18+.

Masterlist.

This is my entry to @nataliarxmanxva Season’s Change Writing Challenge. Almost on the deadline date. Is based on Lana Del Rey’s Blue Jeans, so no, is not a healthy relationship the one depicted here.

@sexylibrarian1 @lucetheding @charliexowrite @bookybuns @angryschnauzer @feelmyroarrrr @erisjade @acunningstargazer @palaiasaurus64 @marveldcmistress @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @debbielovesbucky @janellexox0 @bidianaprinxe

'And I know that love is mean And love hurts But I still remember that day we met in December'

You bent down to fix your over the knee sock, that sticked just a little bit over the boots you were wearing, laughing at some joke someone told. When you stood straight again you found him staring at you. Heat spread immediately over your face, a pleased smirk over his. You turned back to the conversation, but could feel his eyes on you.

You moved to the bar and smiled at the bartender, asking him for a vodka cranberry, taping your nails on the wood of the bar at the beat of the music and you felt a hand on your waist.

"I'm Chase, by the way" You turned and were met with the same self satisfied smirk from earlier. "Nice to meet you, Chase" You rested your chin on your hand, looking back at him.

You bit your lip, leaning back against the wall besides the door of your apartment and Chase leaned in, putting his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. His kiss consumed you and you should have taken that a sign of what was to come, but you didn't.

You wake up to an empty, cold bed, groaning at the soreness of your body. The usual soreness after a night with Chase, you make your way over to the bathroom, turning on the light and twirling one side and the other examining the finger shaped bruises on your hips and waist, some of them on your thighs, too.

The sound of something crashing on the floor of your living room startles you, and you moved as fast as you could without making that much noise, picking up your oversized sweater and throwing it on.

There was nothing you could get to use as a weapon to defend yourself in case you need it, so you open your room's door and take a deep breath, walking out and into the small living room. You almost jump out of your skin when you see Chase on the floor and run up to him, kneeling by his side. "Chase!" You whisper urgently as you look him over, taking in his battered appearance. Shock taking over you at realizing he couldn't heal himself with his magic "Chase, Chase... No, no, no, no! Chase!" Your hands move all over him, without touching him, until his eyes snap open, black taking over them and one of his hands clasp around your forearm, you gasp and try to free your hand, but Chase's grip on you is too strong. "Wh-What happened, Chase?" Your voice shakes and you wince when he tightens his hold on your forearm "You're hurting me" Your voice shakes with fear, you had seen Chase in many states, many humors, but not like this. The tears start to flow down your cheeks and you try to calm yourself, but there's no use.

His eyes go back to normal and he focuses on you, his grip loosening and you try to breathe slowly, control the shaking of your voice "Chase I-I have to take you to the hospital" Chase grips your jaw tightly and makes you look at him "Do you really think a hospital is going to do me any good?" He coughs and you sob. "I-I do-don't know what to do!" His hand is still on your jaw and he makes you look at him. "Stop crying" Another cough "I'm not worth your tears" "I'm sorry!" You sob and whip the tears off your face "Let me... Can I... Can you move? At least let me move you to the bed" Chase nods and you take his arm, putting it around your shoulders, and pushing on the sofa, to get up. With Chase leaning almost all his weight on you.

You try to lay Chase on the bed but he stops you and instead sits "Need you to do something for me" You nod, not even questioning what it could be he'll ask of you in this state "Yes, whatever you need Chase" He smirks "You have a scalpel?" You nod hesitatingly and Chase groans in pain "Go get it and your first aid kit. Now" you move as if on autopilot, not even doubting what he is asking of you. You have told yourself that you don't need to know what Chase doesn't tell you and for the biggest part you believe it, when you come back to the room he looks you over, a lewd smile on his lips, his hand grasping your thigh and riding up the side, coming to your hip under your oversized sweater "Just how I like it" "Chase!" You scold him, and he tightens his grip on your hip. "Go get that bottle of whiskey you keep hidden" You nod and move away, almost running out and grabbing the bottle.

You take a swig of the bottle when Chase tells you to, then Chase puts the scalpel in your hand "I need you to get it out" You pale and your hand starts shaking harder "Get what out?" "They put a binding stone in me. As long as it is inside me I can't use my powers. You have to get it out" He coughs again and you start to panic. "But... Cha-Chase... I d-don't know how to do that" Chase grabs your hands and stops them from shaking. "I'll tell you what to do" You look at him pleadingly, almost asking him not to make you do that "Once you get the stone out I'll heal myself and leave" You want to protest and say you don't want him to leave, but bite it back and keep it to yourself, knowing the last thing Chase wants to hear is about your feelings for him.

Chase points in between his ribs, under his sternum, then takes your hand and puts the tips of your fingers there, pressing them against his skin you can feel the stone under the skin, a hardness that shouldn't be there. "You feel it?" His voice shakes a little and you nod "Ok" He takes a deep breath and takes your jaw in his hand again, making you look at him "You have to cut where I showed you. No matter how much I scream or ask you to stop. Get it out" "Chase" He tightens his grip on your jaw. "Do it" You nod again and take the scalpel "Just cut and grab the stone, then pull at it"

You clean it as best you can with alcohol and then proceed to do the same with Chase's clammy skin, then you offer him the whiskey bottle he smirks weakly and takes a long swig. Once he sets the bottle down on the bed you start touching him to feel the stone when you find it you start cutting until you see it. But the moment you cut, there's blood everywhere, you whimper and can see Chase trying to hold back a scream. You push your fingers inside the cut and try to pull the stone out but it burns your fingers and you pull them back. Chase grabs your hand and grits his teeth. "Get it out" "It burns Chase" He stares at you and then grits out "I know. Is inside me. And I need you to get it the fuck out" You sob and clean his skin of blood with the bed sheets, your hand shaking a little and you look at him, and push your fingers inside the wound again grasping at the stone, pulling at it until it comes off and you throw it beside Chase.

He falls back on the bed, breathing heavy and closes his eyes as his magic starts to heal his wounds, you try to move away but Chase shoves his hands under your sweater and pulls you to him, he grips your waist hard enough to make you yelp, his hands are greedy and possessive on your body, and he pulls you until your sitting on his lap "Chase you're hurt" "Not anymore" His lips are on you and your mind goes blank, you sigh against his lips and Chase tangles a hand in your hair, tugging and exposing your neck to his demanding lips. Suddenly you are laying on your back, hands immobilized by your own sweater and Chase is on top of you, between your spread legs phantom fingers teasing your thighs, inside you, on your breasts, you feel them everywhere he knows you're sensitive. "Cha-Chase!" You stutter, this time not out of fear. Chase makes you come time after time until you're begging him to fuck you and then fucks you until his name is the only thing you can say.

You watch Chase sit at the foot of the bed "Stay" the word is out and you can't take it back. Chase doesn't turn around. "You know I don't do that" Is voice is low and you sit, bringing your knees to your chest. "Why?" You're hoping he changes his mind and it hurts "Just tonight... Chase, you... I want more. You" "Stop. You don't know the things I've done" He moves to get up and you grab his arm, trying to stop him. "I don't care. I know you're not..." You trail off when he moves your hand from his arm and starts getting dressed. "I'm not going to stay" You lay back on the bed and let him go.

Chase had been gone for two months. He left that night and you did not hear from him, but there was still a small part of you that wished he came back. That cared and remembered.

You looked to the door and saw him come in, a serious expression in his face, your heart starts beating faster and you try not to stare, but do anyway and he notices. Chase always does, and starts making his way towards you.

'I will love you 'til the end of time I would wait a million years Promise you'll remember that you're mine Baby, can you see through the tears?'

[hellomissmabel]

The Girl From The Village part 1

MASTERLIST

AO3 account

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warnings: Cheating. Death by car accident, and by infection. Physical assault, breaking and entering.

Word count: 5k

Summary: Still grieving for her husband’s death, Captain America is the last person Y/N expects to show up at her door. Their fate is connected in a peculiar way, one that sparks an unusual friendship. Yet Y/N still isn’t sure she wants to be included in this particular narrative.

A/N: written for @nataliarxmanxva and the prompt is in italics. I know this first part is extremely heavy, but the second part will be much lighter, I promise!

Series masterlist can be found here

I married young, fresh out of high school with my prom dress as inspiration for my wedding dress. I married the first fool that told me he loved me. He was a car freak and tweaked at his father’s vintage car collection over the weekend. Some say I married up, with a real gentleman that treats me like a queen. Others say he married down, and even though I’m a beautiful butterfly, our love will only last a couple seasons before the butterfly gets stripped of her wings.

So it’s only fitting that for this year’s Halloween walk around town, I dress myself up as a dark forest nymph, with withered, ghostly butterfly wings. As an annual tour guide, I escort the kids, teenagers and other youngsters around different haunted locations. At the end of the night, there’s a party for those who can’t get enough of the nightly terrors and an open bar for the other who, like myself, just need a drink to come down from all the screams.

As I sit down on one of the long bar stools, waving over the bartender with a kind smile, I check my phone for any missed calls or messages. There’s one from my mother-in-law who tried to reach me about an hour and I cringe at the reminder of our last conversation, a neat little bruise high on my cheek bone where she slapped me right in the face, now covered up by a thick layer of make-up.

She had already warned me that she was going to do that if she ever saw me again. But I just wanted to return our wedding album I borrowed from her husband, my father-in-law, last spring. He seems the be one of the few people that understand my situation, having experiences the very same emotions I went through. Of course he’ll never talk to his wife about this, or she will be just as ‘sympathetic’ to him as she is to me.

“Why the long face, Y/N?,” the bartender comments on my sullen appearance as he makes me a Bloody Mary on the house.

Sighing while I cup the glass in both my hands, I take a sip from the red liquid. “Family issues. As usual.” The bartender, Jimmy, tells his colleague to take over for a minute as he leans on the counter and listens to what you have to say.

“She still thinks it’s my fault. Everything is always my fault. Last Monday she gave me a shiner. But how else was I going to give back our wedding album to her, hm? Mail it to them? Come on…”

“Don’t, Y/N. Jared would want you to be happy.”

“She was the one that set me up with her son in the first place. I mean, she probably regrets that now. She regrets many things, she told me. Yet she makes it look like I don’t regret anything at all. I’m fine with taking the blame because I deserve it. But I refuse to be her patsy, I can’t control every element of her and my life.”

“Of course you can’t, sweetie, you’re only human.” Jimmy squeezes your shoulder. “I gotta go back now, I’ve got customers waiting, but I’m always here if you wanna talk. And remember sweetie, you’re a wonderful human being and you’re gonna get through this.”

The walk home is silent, with my headphones on and in comfortable loneliness. These last few weeks have been nothing but comfortable loneliness. I have gotten used to being on my own so I don’t feel as lonely anymore as before. But I still clearly remember a time when I was surrounded by people, when I was loved by everybody in this little town instead of shunned by half.

That night, you don’t even bother to take off your make-up properly, not yet ready to see the blue-ish bruise on my cheek shine in the soft bathroom light. It’s only when morning comes that you regret ever not taking it off, scrubbing and rubbing at the best of your abilities until your face is red and swollen from the exertion. Exhausted again, you crawl onto the couch with a warm blanket or two and some Halloween-themed cornflakes, reminiscing about Jared, and Tom.

A strong knock to the door startles you as it disrupts your trail of destructive thoughts. Getting up with a heavy feeling in your bones, you drag yourself from the safety of the couch and towards the front door. When you open it, it’s like the wind is knocked right from your lungs.

“Hi,” the blond says shyly, giving you a warm half-smile as awe transforms his face. “I’m sorry to show up here unannounced, but I was hoping to talk to you. You’re Y/N right?”

“And who may you be?,” you ask a little defensive, your evident surprise putting you straight on edge.

“I’m Steve, Steve Rogers,” he replies as he goes through his hair with long, slender fingers.

Steve Rogers. You’re going over in your mind where you’ve heard the name before, until it finally clicks and recognition dawns on your face. “Captain America?,” you whisper under your breath, a couple curses on the tip of your tongue. “What is Captain America doing on my doorstep?”

“Like I said, I wanted to talk to you. I saw you in Brooklyn, like a month ago, is that possible?”

You nod since you have been in Brooklyn for a baby shower last September, but unfortunately you don’t remember running into none other than Steve Rogers. If you had, surely you would remember? “Come in,” you offer hesitantly as you size him from head to toe. He’s just like the news reports show, tall and muscly and all bulging biceps.

He waits for you to sit down before he takes a seat opposite of you, wringing his sweaty palms together. “So I’m just gonna… say it,” he chuckles wryly, embarrassment rolling off him in thick waves. “I was in Brooklyn getting some groceries when I saw you walk up to one of the apartments across the street. You were wearing a soft blue dress with a red bow in your hair. Your hair was pinned up like they did back in the forties and you looked very classy.”

As he finishes his appreciative description of your vintage outfit and matching looks that day, you’re already blushing like a lobster. But Steve isn’t finishes yet. “The resemblance was uncanny,” he gushes softly, taking his wallet and fishing out an old photograph. Steve shows it to you and you take it in the palm of your hand, very carefully.

Tentatively you speak with a quiet voice and tender eyes. “She does look like me. A lot.” Your thumb smooths over the black and white surface. She’s in some kind of uniform, ready to salute, her red-painted lips holding a perfect smile while her eyes glisten with genuine heartiness.

“She was a chorus girl. Her name was Naomi.” His eyes dart from the picture in my hands to mine and back. “She was one of the brightest souls I’ve ever met. Really talented performer, so good they sent her with me to the battlefield to cheer up the men.”

Your eyelashes flutter softly as you try to hold in your emotions, moved by how his voice seems to break under the pressure of his words. “She was special. Bucky and I, we were smitten by her. When I rescued him from where they held him imprisoned, she was there to nurse him. Bucky… He – euhm, he was a little infatuated. But Naomi, she only had eyes for me.”

With a little laugh, he accepts the picture as you give it back to him. “Naomi stood up for me and kind of… tamed the other girls. One guy taking on at least a dozen show girls… that’s just too much oestrogen for little Stevie here to handle. Even though I wasn’t so little anymore.”

After pocketing it back in his wallet,  he fidgets with his hands in his lap. “Some of the girls didn’t have lads at home and could get a little handsy from time to time, but it was always very innocent. They missed having a man around, so I sort of became their man. But Naomi… With her it was different… She – euhm, she was my first.”

Your eyebrows knit together as something snaps inside of you. “If you’re here hoping to get laid by a lookalike of your forties sweetheart, then you better get out of here before I kick you out.”

Steve gapes at you, his pupils flared in surprise as he stutters and stammers to correct himself. “No, no that’s not why I’m here at all. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m just here to talk, promise.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as your lips are set in a thin, stern line, jaw still clenched tight. You believe him. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to be so rude. I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

The colour slowly returns to his face as you relax your shoulders, a flush creeping up on you as a more positive connotation settles in your thoughts. This chorus girl, Naomi, who looks so much like you, was Captain America’s first time fooling around. That must be a compliment in that, right?

“What happened to her?,” you query gently, noticing the Captain’s cheeks are turning from pink to pale white again.

The Captain is fighting back the tears and he squeezes them shut as he remembers her, clearing his throat first before answering. “She took a hit when Bucky fell of the train. Naomi had caught some kind of infection from the battlefield and when she heard about Bucky… She lost her will to fight. She was devastated.”

You get up from the couch and join his side once you notice how hard this is on him. Placing your hand on his knee, it gives Steve a little boost to continue. “Yet we made each other a promise. I’d get back from the war and she’d get better. She’d hook me up with Peggy and I’d find her a nice lad, too. But instead of keeping that promise…”

“You ended up in the ice, trying to save the world,” you finish his sentence for him. “I’m sure she knew. I’m sure she knew you did what you had to do.”

“Naomi was one of the first people to ever appreciate me for me. To her I wasn’t just some bulky and weird science project, but a real man. She didn’t know me before I became Captain America, but she assured me she would’ve loved me just the same.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Steve,” you whisper softly. “I know what it feels like to lose someone that special.”

Steve shifts his body towards you, interest peaking his ears. “My husband, Jared, died last year,” you explain as an uneasy mood strikes you. This is the first time you’re actually willing, prepared, just ready to talk about it.

“Jared and I, we were everybody’s favourites, so naturally we were bound to fall in love. High school sweethearts, you know...” Your mouth has run dry so you run to the kitchen and fetch yourself a glass of water, offering Steve a drink too.

“We got married shortly after we finished high school, before we were supposed to go to college. Jared had already procured his placed at an Ivy League University and soon thereafter I earned a scholarship to the same one, too. I didn’t want Jared’s help, I didn’t want to thrive off his last name. I insisted on earning my place.”

Returning with two glasses, you sit cross-legged next to Steve, holding on tightly to both your glass as well as your heart. “We had a solid relationship. We had a good marriage. But we married too young, there were others things we still wanted to do other than being married. Sure, we loved each other and wanted to grow old together, but after a while there was no passion, no excitement, no sparks flying anymore.”

Steve listens intently, nodding here and there whenever he believes it’s most constructive. The sound of your voice is somehow soothing to his own grief. He wants closure just as much as you do. he thought that by going to see you, he’d be able to turn the page. But one page can wait a little longer if he can help you move on to the next chapter, too.

“Two summers ago, I met another guy, Tom. Jared had flown to Europe for his internship and would be away for two full months, maybe longer. We’d just graduated and the whole world seemed to be at our feet. Tom was here visiting some family and one of my friends, his cousin, brought him along to a party.”

Inhaling deeply, that night’s events still freshly engraved in our mind, you attempt to suppress the flashbacks and the memories by holding your breath. Steve tells you it’s alright, his hand rubbing circles on your back to help you level your breathing. “It’s okay. You can tell me, I won’t judge.”

“Nobody ever talks about summer love like it’s going to last, you know? You don’t expect a summer fling to last. But Tom… he took me hiking one day and we’d just lay in the grass looking at the clouds changing, holding hands. Tom adored me. He was so easy to adore, too. So we kept it going for longer than just the summer, long after Jared had returned...”

Your glass is empty and it’s like you’re staring into a bottomless pit. “Tom got a job here, because I asked him to. Jared never suspected anything. Of course I still loved him and Jared still loved me, but the chemistry between us had long died down. The most intimate moments with Tom were our hikes, when we could just… be together. Period. It wasn’t about the sex, it was about something much deeper.”

Looking up into Steve’s baby blue eyes, you recognise the same remorse, the same regret that’s flooding your system as we speak. He was in love with Peggy, yet allowed himself to fall for Naomi as well. “If you don’t mind me askin’… How did Jared die, love?”

“Jared was supposed to take one of his dad’s vintage cars out for a spin. He wanted to take me with him and maybe organise a little picnic with just the two of us. He got home early from work to prepare for everything. I knew Jared inside out and he probably thought he should do some warming up first so he could impress me with his driving skills. But the car hadn’t been out of the garage for ages and didn’t receive a regular check-up either. Jared crashed into a tree because the brakes didn’t function properly.”

Crying softly into the blond’s shoulder, the super soldier wraps his arm around your waist and comforts you silently, giving your emotions free reign. “His mother likes to blame me for what happened. She needs someone to blame.”

“It’s not your fault, Y/N,” Steve whispers into your hair. “None of it is your fault.”

“If I hadn’t been in the woods with Tom, I would’ve had reception and I would’ve heard my phone ring.” Detaching yourself from his sturdy frame, you try to make yourself look presentable again by wiping away the tears and putting your hair up in a messy ponytail. “The whole town soon found out. She made sure of that. I’m the town’s sweetheart that became the town’s scapegoat.”

“Y/N…, don’t think like that, doll. You can always move…”

“I can’t move. Everything reminds me of Jared and I wanna hold on to his memory. At one point, I couldn’t take it anymore and considered going back to New York where I did my internship. But if I move back to New York, I risk running into Tom again and I can’t… Too much has happened.”

Your red-rimmed eyes find his and as they lock, his phone rings loudly, breaking the tender atmosphere surrounding you like a safety net. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but I gotta go. The team is wondering where I am. I wish I could’ve stayed longer to talk. Maybe I can come over again? Somewhere next week?”

“I have a day off on Wednesday and I can start later on Thursday, so then we have plenty of time to talk.”

Steve nods softly, making a mental note of your appointment. “So I’ll see you next Wednesday.”

“Thank you, Steve, for listening.” You don’t feel exonerated, but there’s a small sliver relief at the end of your tunnel, guiding you to a better mindset, helping you grieve. All thanks to Steve.

“Thank you, Y/N, for your trust. And for not screaming when I showed up at your door.”

You both chuckle at this and after watching Captain America get back into his car and drive back towards the highway, a warm and fuzzy feeling has lit up your chest. You didn’t hear from Steve anymore as you forgot to exchange numbers. But figuring that he’s Captain America, an Avenger, working together with Tony Stark, he would’ve found a way to contact you if he needed to. Next Wednesday couldn’t be here fast enough.

So to ease the nerves, you started baking as early as Tuesday morning. You worked at the shelter and the adjoining pet store and had an hour lunch break during which you made the decorations and toppings for your cupcakes. And when you got home around half past five, you started baking even more; from cookies to pie to even croissants for breakfast should Steve show up as early as eight a.m.

Steve arrived a little after eleven in the morning and he also brought a guest. When you opened the door this time, you expected to see just the blond super soldier, and not a certain metal-armed assassin that’s been all over the news as of late.

“Y/N, I know I should’ve called or at least texted you, but we were sent from one mission to the other and…” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration with himself. “I’m so sorry, that’s not an excuse. But I still hope you don’t mind Bucky tagging along. I let it slip that I tracked you down and he kind of wanted to see for himself.”

By now, Bucky’s jaw has gone slack, his mouth agape as he sizes you up. “She’s just like Naomi, Steve.”

Unsure of how to react, you invite them in, Steve pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek as a greeting and Bucky giving you an awkward wave. “I told ya, didn’t I, Buck?,” Steve chuckles to his friend as you show them inside.

“I doubt that I look exactly like her. I mean, I don’t have the size of a show girl let alone the legs for it,” you mumble as you neatly arrange all the pastries on your kitchen table. The two men protest and assure you’re just as stunning as Naomi, no matter your size.

“Did you make all this just for us?,” Steve asks you as he sits down closest to the apple pie, the scent tickling his nostrils with delicious intent, exchanging an impressed look with Bucky.

“Well,” you blush shyly, “I actually made it just for you, since I didn’t think you’d bring a guest. But I think there’s enough to feed two mouths. If not, I can always bake more.”

Bucky shakes his head, grinning boyishly at you as his flesh hand reaches for one of the chocolate chip cookies. “This is more than enough, Y/N, thank you so much.”

You spent the rest of the day talking to the two super soldiers, enjoying the fruits of your labour with their stomachs filled to the brim and crumbs everywhere in your kitchen.

“So what do you do for a living?,” Bucky inquires before taking another forkful of his plum pie with dark chocolate topping.

Putting down your cherry and cream muffin, you take a napkin and dap the corners of your mouth clean. “I’m actually a vet. I work at the pet shelter and help out at the pet store on the regular. I used to have a dog, Sam. Well, actually she was Jared’s dog, a black Labrador. She died after our first year of marriage.”

The table grows silent, Bucky’s heart aching for Y/N as he envisions how much it would hurt if his own service dog died. “Steve’s been thinking about adopting a dog,” Bucky blurts out all of a sudden, taking Steve by surprise.

Sure, he’d been thinking about getting a service dog just like Bucky. But then again, he didn’t think he’d have the time to take care of the little fella if he did get one. For now, it’s been a constant game of pro and cons in his mind. His heart, however, tells him to just do it and adopt.

Your eyes light up at Bucky’s comment. “You can come to the shelter with me some day, if you want to?”

Bucky nudges Steve’s side, giving him an encouraging sideway glance. “Y-y-yeah,” Steve stammers softly, “That would be great.”

“I don’t mind walking around town a little while you guys go to the shelter,” Bucky announces a little too quickly and too eager for Steve’s taste. He’s trying to play matchmaker, a role solely reserved for Nat. But Bucky wouldn’t be Bucky if he didn’t at least attempt to be a good Cupid.

The shelter appears to be a lot smaller on the outside than it is on the inside, providing enough space for the pets to roam freely. The owner, Jensen, greets you with a big, toothy smile and gives Steve a firm handshake, patting his arm as he remains completely oblivious as to who he actually has in front of him. Maybe it’s for the best, you reason.

“Steve’s interesting in adopting a dog,” you pitch the idea to Jensen, your shoulder brushing briefly with Steve’s as you both try to follow after Jensen. He apologises immediately, as do you, and like a true gentleman he allows you go to first.

“Awesome! I also just had an elderly lady in that was interested in adopting three cats!,” he boasts while he guides you around the desk and out back where the dogs out. “She’ll come back on Saturday. I won’t be in on Saturday, gotta keep the wife happy and take her and my little girl to big city for some shopping. But you’ll be here, so the shelter will be in very capable hands.”

At the moment, there are fifteen dogs at the shelter. Steve’s interest is instantly captured by one of the smaller dogs. “Hey there buddy,” he coos at the little pup, scratching behind its ear. “I like this one,” he smiles up at you with matching puppy dog eyes. He’s already head over heels for the little golden retriever.

“Ah yeah… that one’s name is Scout. One of six puppies that came in about a month ago. The owner couldn’t take care of six pups and asked me if I could take on four of them. Scout here is the smallest and we believe he won’t grow up to be a very big dog. But don’t be fooled by his size, this fella’s got a really big heart.”

You could sense by the way Steve interacted with Scout that it was a match made in heaven, so it didn’t take the blond long to decide he wanted to adopt the little pup. After making sure the papers were all signed and in order, Steve and Scout were now a fact. Bucky was overjoyed when he saw Steve approach with Scout asleep in his arms. You wanted to invited them for dinner, but Bucky and Steve kindly turned down your offer as they still had a long drive back to New York.

“I promise to take good care of Scout.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise, Cap,” you hum warmly as you hug the two Avengers goodbye.

“And I’ll call you, too. I have your number now,” Steve winks and prompts a heavy red blush to tint your cheeks. He pecks your cheek one last time before disappearing into the car and Bucky insisted joining him on the driver’s side since Steve had already driven all the way out here.

With Steve and Bucky gone again, you had nothing left to wrap your mind around anymore. You fill your days with the same activities and the same thoughts as you have done before the blond arrived. He calls you every now and then, and even lets Scout take over his cell phone. But it just isn’t the same anymore. Your friendship with Steve, if you can call it a friendship at all, is solely based on your resemblance with Naomi, Steve’s chorus girl. There’s no way a man like Steve would ever be friends with a woman like you if it wasn’t for that particular reason.

So when Steve invites you to spend a few days with Bucky and him in New York, you feign illness and tell them you’ve been taking ill by the flu. When a second request arrives, another excuse is made up. Until Steve offers it a third time and comes to get you in person.

He doesn’t expect to find the house in a complete state of utter disaster, your door ajar and your walls clad with red spray paint. There are words scribbled on the front of your house, such as ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, and once he walks inside he sees the true damage that has been done. Your house is no longer a house, it’s a wreck, overtaken by the work of vandals.

You’re huddled in the corner of your bedroom and when you hear footsteps approaching, you crawl in your closet, afraid the men who did this have come back to hurt you even more. You’re wearing your pyjamas, or what’s left of it, and are extremely cold since all your windows have been shattered and the icy winter wind has full access to your chilly bones.

Steve crouches down next to you, embracing you in his strong, warm arms in an attempt to get your temperature up. He asks you what happened, but you refuse to reply. He asks you if you want to see a doctor, but you shake your head no. So he’s left with no choice and hoists you up in his arms to take you the shelter where he knows Jensen will be able to help you out.

The first thing that comes to Jensen’s mind is “not again”. Steve gives him a puzzled and baffled look, which he answers with a regretful smile. You’ve passed out on the couch in Jensen’s private quarters at the back of the shelter, giving the doctor time to assess your injuries.

“She’s fine. They tore her clothes apart just to scare her, but her injuries show no signs of a sexual assault. Well, we won’t know for sure until she’s ready to tell us what happened, but they didn’t rape her last time, so I don’t think…”

“Wait, this has occurred before?,” Steve interjects, smoothing over your hair.

“They’re trying to bully her away. Some guys from the edge of town who heard about her history with Tom.” Jensen runs a hand down his face and groans. “They never entered her house in the past, they’d only mess with her garden or the outer skeleton of the house. But things have… escalated since people spotted you at her place.”

“So this is all my fault,” Steve concludes from Jensen’s words, cradling your body against his as he notices the goose bumps rising on your skin.

“Hey, man,” Jensen rests his hand on Steve shoulder as a sign of comfort, “That’s not true. Those kind of people… they don’t need much to start a riot. Y/N has been keeping to herself since Jared died. Once in a while a friend would pay her a visit. Sometimes this friend would be a guy. And they know he’s just a friend, but that doesn’t stop them.”

Steve gets the bigger picture and is even more adamant than before to get you out of this town and give you the life you deserve. He keeps watch by your side for the rest of the afternoon, until you wake up in the middle of the night crying out his name and he has to console you until the early morning light sets in.

“There were three of them. Again the same guys. They broke into my house, expecting me to be still at work. But I wasn’t feeling very well so I took half the day off. I walked in on them and they just…” You bite your quivering lip, crossing your arms over your chest. “They just lost it. They attacked me on the street once before and just bruised my face, cut my hand, tripped me on the sidewalk… Yet this time, they made sure to beat me up real good.”

“Please, Y/N,” the captain pleads with you, “This has to stop. Come to New York with me.”

He can see you’re in doubt, the memory of your late husband fighting to stay in this little, wretched town where it all began. But there a part of you that’s crawling its way out of the deepest, darkest depths of your disgrace in an attempt to find the light again. And it’s Steve that awakens that part in you the most. Whenever he’s around, you don’t feel the pain or the heartache as much anymore. It’s like he’s a catalyst of better times ahead. It’s like he’s your antidote to the sorrow threatening to swallow you whole.

So you agree to come with him to New York.

Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @howlingbarnes @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @barnes-heaven @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @supernaturaldean65 @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @sniktlogan @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @lovemarvelousfics @yknott81 @rrwilson66 @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers @sammyissassy @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @kudosia @bellejeunefillesansmerci @lumelgy @mizzzpink @southernbellestatues @daringtodreamawake @neurotic-narwhal @cokamarie24 @blue1928 @movingonto-betterthings @breezy1415 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @jesspfly @weenie-butt @debzybrazy @fuckingchaotic  @always-an-evans-addict @petersunderroos  @thegreentgirl @nedthegay @eve1978 @yourtropegirl

Strikethrough means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you!

[babyjamiebarnes]

Baby Steve

Rating: PG

Warnings: Steve is a big baby about haunted houses

Featuring: Steve Rogers x reader

A/N: “Hey look, that 5sos girl is writing more Marvel” What’s up, guys, it’s your local trash can again (PS feel free to read all my old, shitty 5sos fan fiction on my other blog @1980hood ) This is my submission for @nataliarxmanxva‘s writing challenge. tbh that’s what all of my stories are gonna be for a while so I’ll be posting a few more in the next couple days. I don’t usually write in second person so if it sucks, just let me know

Steve would never admit it, but he hates haunted houses. He hates anything that goes bump in the night and anything that recreates it. Scary movies? Sorry, Steve has a mission report to work on. Prank war? Nope, Steve’s staying out of town that week. Haunted houses? Nah, Steve’s not really a Halloween person.

Except Steve loves Halloween. He loves dressing up and watching not-so-scary movies (he’s a sucker for the Halloweentown series) and stuffing his face with chocolate for a day. But he knows if he tells anyone how much he loves the spooky holiday, he won’t be able to avoid the one thing he hates about it: being scared.

You’re good at what you do so Steve never saw it coming. If Nat or Sam had tried the same line, Steve would’ve shut them down immediately just to be safe, but when you batted your eyelashes and pulled out a “please, Stevie?” he was putty in your hands. He trusted that your only plan for Halloween weekend was bar hopping in your costumes, so when you pulled the car up outside of a haunted house instead of the bar, Steve started to fidget in his seat.

“Uh, this isn’t the bar, guys,” he said, hoping beyond hope that he could get everyone back in the car.

“Yeah, I know,” you said with a shrug. “We’re going to the bars after the haunted house. It’ll be fun, Steve! Look!”

He stepped out of the car and looked where you were pointing just to see three teenagers being chased to their cars by a man with a chainsaw.

“That doesn’t look fun at all,” Steve mumbled.

“Oh, come on, grumpy Gus. I’ll make sure nothing bad happens.”

“You can fight aliens and take down Nazis but haunted houses are where you draw the line?” Sam said, scoffing out a laugh.

You turned to Steve to see his face drawn in a frown.

“Hey, it’s fine,” you said quietly. “If you don’t want to go in, I can give you the keys and you can stay in the car.”

His expression softened when he looked down at you, a friendly smile on your face and a comforting hand on his chest.

“No, it’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he said, finally giving you a smile.

You clapped your hands with a squeal and turned back to face the rest of your friends — but the tension in Steve’s posture whenever the chainsaw man ran after people didn’t go unnoticed.

When you finally got to the front of the line, Nat and Sam insisted on leading the way while you and Steve brought up the rear.

The long, winding path through a makeshift forest had all of you on edge, waiting for something to jump out. The chatter of the other patrons waiting in line grew quieter the further you went until you finally made it to the actual house — without being scared. For some reason, this made Steve even more uncomfortable than strangers jumping out at him.

The first scare of the night was a man dressed as a glow-in-the-dark skeleton right after you walked through the door. You, Nat, and Sam, as fans of haunted houses, jumped and laughed. Steve, on the other hand, jumped and put his hand over his chest to stop himself from screaming.

“It’s okay, Steve,” you said with a smile. “They can’t touch us. You’re okay.”

He nodded his head and continued following you through the winding passageways. The next rooms weren’t jump scares, just a room full of dolls and another with a dismembered zombie lying on the floor. When someone did leap out at you, you were almost more scared of the hand you felt gripping your arm. Fortunately, it was just Steve. Big, strong Steve had his hand wrapped around your arm and his six foot tall body hunched behind yours.

You felt bad for the giggle that left your lips, but it was so cute seeing him acting like a little kid. You set your hand over his on your arm and kept on through the house.

By the time you made it to the end, Steve was practically glued to your back. He let out a huge sigh of relief when he saw the parking lot full of cars and even managed to laugh when Sam took off in a dead sprint for the chainsaw guy to chase.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Nat said, clapping her hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled.

“You’re fine, baby Steve,” you laughed. He hadn’t moved his hands from your arm so you pulled them off and slid one hand into his. “You can drink away your sorrows now.”

He let you lead him back to the car with a pout on his lips.

Before you let go of his hand, you heard him quietly whisper, “I’m not a baby.”

[marrvelle-fics]

Flowers (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Words: 702

Pairing: (Steve Rogers x Gender Neutral Reader)

Warnings: Angst, Breakups, 

Summary: This is for @nataliarxmanxva  ‘s “Season’s Change Writing Challenge” and my prompt was “But I brought flowers!”

A/N: I hope you like it! I know it’s short but I’m actually quite proud of it.

Springtime.

It was your favorite season. It had been ever since you were a child.

You loved the way everything was blooming, the rainy days. The smell of the wet earth in central park after it rained. The sound of birds singing in the trees. It was all just so magical to you.

But your favorite part about it was Steve.

The two of you had been dating for almost two years now. Every spring, he’d take you out on cliche dates, but you loved them. You went on walks through central park. You went on picnics, he took you to Coney Island. And on days or nights when it rained, he’d take you outside, and the two of you would slow dance in the rain. He knew it was your favorite season, and he always wanted to make the most of it.

But not this year.

He’d been going on missions left and right, and when he was home, he usually spent his time sleeping or watching TV. Sometimes he’d go out to the bar without telling you and wouldn’t get home until two in the morning.

Tonight, you sat next to the window, staring out at the rain outside. Tears ran down your cheeks.

You missed him. But you were tired of being neglected. You had packed your bags already, and now you were just waiting for him to get home.

Just then, you hear the keys jingling, and the familiar sound of him unlocking the door.

He walks in throwing his jacket on the couch and going to the fridge for a beer. He throws a plastic bag on the counter.

“Haven’t you had enough?” You say.

He turns and looks at you. “What?”

You step out of the shadows. “I said: ‘Haven’t you had enough?’. Because that’s where you came from isn’t it? The bar.”

Steve narrows his eyes. “Maybe it is, but that’s none of your business doll.”

You wince at the way he says your nickname. It wasn’t full of love and adoration like it used to be. Instead, he practically spat the word at you, making it seem less of a nickname and more of an insult.

“But it is Steve! Because I’m your goddamn girlfriend! We’re supposed to talk to each other when something’s wrong. But you haven’t been doing much talking lately! And I’m sick of it Steve! I’m sick of being neglected, being treated like a fucking doormat!!”

Steve’s eyes widen, and he slowly begins to realize what he’s done.

“(Y/N)... I’m- I’m sorry.”

You scoff, turning on your heel and going into the bedroom to grab your things.

He follows you. “(Y/N), please just hear me out!”

You grab your suitcase and turn around, shoving past him to get out of the room. “No Steve.”

He rushes to the kitchen. “Please don’t leave just… let me explain.”

“Steven Grant Rogers, you had plenty of opportunities to explain what’s been going on these past three months you’ve been like this, and I just can’t take it anymore. So just let me go. I think it’d be best if we spent some time apart.”

Steve feels hopeless. How could he have been such an idiot? It wasn’t your fault he was like this, he was just stressed, and things were going downhill. He was fighting tooth and nail to make sure his enemies stayed away from you. They’d come too close far too many times.  And you had no idea.

“But…” His voice is small, and he looks at you with tears in his eyes. “But I brought flowers…”

He reaches into the plastic bag he had so carelessly thrown on the counter and pulls out a small bouquet of daisies, your favorite.

You feel tears flood your eyes, but you blink them away. “Yeah well… It’s gonna take a lot more than ‘I’m sorry’ and flowers to fix this one Stevie.”

And then you open the door, pushing your suitcase out of your apartment before stepping out and shutting the door.

Steve stares hopelessly at the door before he breaks. He collapses on the floor of the kitchen, sobs wracking his body as he holds his head in his hands.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this short little drabble. 

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[supersoldierslover]

No Place I Rather Be

Summary: You and Steve enjoy a beautiful spring day Words: 967 Pairing: Steve x Reader Warnings: This is my submission for @nataliarxmanxva Sofi’s Season’s Change Writing Challenge. My prompt was “I missed the sunlight”

Thank you @widowsfics for beta this for me

“Come back to bed it is early, baby.” You hear your boyfriend say behind you. Turning around you notice that he is standing next to the door that connects your bedroom with the balcony just in his sweatpants “I am not really sleepy, Stevie.”

You don’t know what time is it, but since you woke up at 6 am you have been in this balcony watching the world outside. Spring has always been your favorite season, the weather it is not too hot or too cold. The sun rises earlier than in the winter, the flowers bloom and people start wearing colorful clothes again.

It is beautiful to watch.

“So, what are you doing here, outside?” He asks sitting next to you, sneaking an arm around your waist pulling you closer to his body “I missed the sunlight. Look at this day, it is beautiful.” Steve laughs, kissing your forehead.

You can’t remember what was the last time that you and Steve had a day off, especially at the same time. He was so busy with the Avengers lately and in the last few months, you felt like you lived in your office.

You can’t say how many times you got home to see Steve sleeping on the couch waiting for you. Or worse, you got home to a post-it saying he was going to a mission and didn’t know when he was coming back.

You missed him as much as you had missed the sunlight.

“What is going on in this pretty little head of yours?” He asks, taking you away from your thoughts. You kiss his jaw, then his cheek and for the last his lips “I think we need a vacation, just us. I don’t care where we go, I just want us to spend time together.”

He pulls you into a kiss, making you sit in his lap “I love you, you know that?  Choose a place in the world, any place and I will take you.” He says caressing your back; of course you know that he loves you, never once he made you doubt about his feelings for you “Really, right now? Any place that I want?”

He nods kissing your shoulder “Any place, we can go to Paris like you always wanted.”

You look around. You are in the arms of the man that you love, feeling protected and cherished. From there, you can smell the aroma of fresh coffee and pastries from the bakery around the corner. The cherry blossom tree in front of your apartment is blooming, along with other trees on the block. There is no place in the world that you rather be, right now.

“Here is perfect, at least for now. Do you know what I really want?” You ask running your hands thru his chest, making him shiver.

“Me? Please say it’s me.” He gets up with you in his arms; gently he lays you on the bed. His lips go to your neck, while his hands play with the hem of your shorts “No, breakfast. I am starving.” You say coltishly, pushing him away from you “You hurt me, sweetheart. Do you like eggs and bacon more than me?” He asks in the same tone as you.

“Of course not, baby. I love you but if we are talking about chocolate chip pancakes, your chocolate chip pancakes… then the answer is maybe?” He laughs, hugging you by your waist “Fine, but can you change before breakfast?”

“Why?” For you, there is nothing better than eating breakfast in your pajamas, especially if you can cuddle with your boyfriend in the process “Because I have a surprise for you and you can’t go in your pajamas. Doesn’t matter how adorable you look on them.”

You nod agreeing “But are you sure that you want to go out? We can continue all the kissing on the bed later.” You say kissing his neck “I am pretty sure, you are going to like the surprise.” You smile at him excited, you used to think that you hated surprises, but every time Steve says he has a surprise for you it is always something that you love.

Like your favorite flowers after a rough day at work, or when he takes you to your favorite restaurant without any reason other than to make you smile “I can’t wait, what do I have to wear for this surprise?” You wonder where he is going to take you, you hope it is to a park or something like that.

You want to see the flowers, the trees and to enjoy the sunlight “Anything you want, just be comfortable.” You smile kissing his cheek “Ok, I am going to take a shower first.” After your shower, you find Steve sting on your bed in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. You decide to mimic his outfit only changing the jeans for your favorite pair of shorts.

“Come with me.” He says taking your hand, instead of going to the kitchen for breakfast he leads you the front door taking you to the rooftop. You look around, there are at least two thousand white daisies all over the place “It is so beautiful, how? Why?” You woke up early today and he was still sleeping.

Steve drops on his knees, taking a ring of his pocket saying your name in lovely manner “Sweetheart, I love you so much. There is no one else I would rather spend my life with, you make me laugh, you make me feel like I can be normal. Would you give me the honor to be my wife?”

You wipe a few tears of your face “Yes, of course.” You nod, as he kisses you. You are never going to forget this day of spring.

Please leave feedback, it makes me happy and i am dying to know what you guys think of this fic.

Tags:   @kindnesswins  @widowsfics @buckyappreciationsociety @spiderween @you-should-love @amrita31199  @vashanatasha @magellan-88 @fabi112 @littlenerdgirl16  @smilexcaptainx @ballerinafairyprincess @psychicwitchphilosopher @actual-bucky-barnes-trash @buckyswinterchildren  @addictionmarvel  @with-more-issues-than-vogue @s7sense @elwenia @anorborg  @shamvictoria11 @hollycornish @landofbucky @aya-fay @supernaturaldean67 @yknott81 @debzybrazy @ria132love @justreadingfics @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19  @crownie-sr @50shadesofyes @its-not-a-tulpa @umwhatandrea @supernatural-girl97 @its-daydreamer23

[buckys-shield]

The Great Bakeoff

Summary: It’s autumn, so you feel the need to bake some cookies. You decide Bucky should help you, but is he really a help or more of a burden?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 721

Warning: excessive waste of food? also fluff, fluff and even more fluff

A/N: This is for @nataliarxmanxva‘s season’s change writing challenge. My prompt was: who knew baking cookies was this hard? it’s also bolded. Yeah the due date is in 2 days and I discovered I can work under time pressure!! Yeah!

Taking a sip from your hot chocolate, you let out a content sigh. For once everything was quiet in the tower. The people living in it, including you seemed to be adapting to the wet, cold autumn weather outside.

Tony was tinkering away in his lab and the whole day you hadn’t heard a single explosion, nor had an exasperated Bruce stormed the kitchen you were currently working in. Natasha was sitting next to Wanda in the common room, peacefully chatting away. Clint was sitting there too, trying to build a house out of playing carts.

Steve and Sam where down in the training rooms, because even though everyone else was relaxing, those two couldn’t bear a day without doing something for their ‘health’ (Sam’s words, not yours.)

Only Bucky, you hadn’t seen the whole day. After breakfast he disappeared into his room and hadn’t come out since. You looked at the ingredients for your planned cookies before you and put down your mug, making your way to Bucky’s room.

It took you only 5 minutes of persuasion and you and Bucky were standing in the kitchen of the tower, ready to bake some delicious cookies.

“So, I’ll start with dough and you could search for the cookie cutters.” You suggested and with an approving hum, Bucky started searching the cupboards. In the meantime you began to prepare the cookie dough, by spilling flour all over the giant kitchen island.

Bucky was still searching for the cookie cutters when you decided it was time to mess with him. Grabbing a handful of flour, you sneaked up to him, only to run your hands through his hair seconds later.

Bucky yelped and swirled around, causing some flour to trickle onto the floor. You could only laugh as you watched him pat his head. His bewildered expression soon turned into a wicked smirk however and before you could even register what happened, he had already rounded the kitchen area and was standing now in front of you.

His hands full of flour he stared down at you, smirk turned into a wide smile. “So, you wanna play?” he whispered, causing you to widen your eyes.

“No, no, no. Bucky, don’t you dare!” you screeched, but before you could flee from the attack, he had already left two flour-y fingerprints on each of your cheeks.

“Bucky!” you squealed and grabbed the entire bag of flour, emptying it all over him. With an exaggerated sigh, he raised his arms and looked over at you. You had to admit, you were taken aback by his reaction. Why would he surrender so quickly?

“I surrender!” he chuckled and you held up your hands in a mocked winning pose. “I have to admit, you are very good in the art of food fighting.” he continued and you had to giggle. “I think this deserves a hug!”

Widening your eyes again, you took a step backwards when Bucky spread his arms to pull you into a big hug. You knew he was up to something. But there was no way you let him catch you! You had already flour on your face, you didn’t need it in all over your body too.

You took another step backwards, but again your reflexes weren’t as fast as Bucky’s and so you quickly found yourself squished to his chest. You squirmed and squealed, but no matter what you did, he wouldn’t let you go.

By now, he wasn’t only hugging but also tickling you, causing you to laugh even more. Your squirming lead Bucky to sink down on the kitchen floor so he could make sure not to drop you and together you simply toppled over, laughing like maniacs.

Bucky and you were still lying on the flour, giggling like mad when Natasha, attracted by your loud laughing, stepped into the kitchen. Placing her hands on her hips, she took in the chaos of the kitchen and raised one eyebrow.

“I thought you wanted to bake some cookies?” she asked, amusement lacing her words. Still breathless, you only managed to nod, a wide smile playing on your lips.

“Well, who knew baking cookies was this hard?” she smirked and swiftly turned around to leave the kitchen, her words sending you and Bucky into another laughing fit.

@heismyhunter @crazychick010 @heytherepartner @ultrabarnes  @themcuhasruinedme  @captainpunk @lilasiannerd @systemfailuresunshine  @melconnor2007 @buckysberrie @mytrueself

[sologxlaxies]

Sofi’s Season’s Change Writing Challenge

Yes, it’s me again! So, I just realised it’s been about a year since I started this blog, and it also matches me moving to a whole new country and experiencing seasons for the first time (Yes, we do not have seasons in the Equator...) and in order to celebrate, I thought about hosting a season themed writing challenge. Thank you so much for sticking with me and supporting me, and let’s hope the road ahead is just as bright <3

Rules:

Must be following this clumsy sunflower (me)

Likes/reblogs on this post are appreciated but don’t count as an entry

All writing genres are allowed! that means fluff, angst, smut, etc... 

It can be a Drabble, one-shot, multi chaptered fic... whatever you like!

Send me an ask with the song/sentence/prompt of your choice but make sure it’s not already taken

Please include the character you’re writing for in the ask (you can pick any Marvel or Seb character)

Please use your prompt accordingly. This means that the plot of your fic should fit with whatever season and prompt you choose. 

Either one-shots, drabbles or multi part fics are fine! as long as they’re minimum 500 words long

AU’s are more than welcome! (I love AU’s)

The due date for the fics will be October 25th. If it’s a series, the first part needs to be posted on or before the due date.

I understand that life can be difficult, so if you need more time to post or need to drop out for any reason, please let me know at least 24 hours before the due date, and don’t worry! Just give me a heads-up. 

Tag me in your fics when you post them! I’ll be making a masterlist with your submissions. Please use  #sofi’s scwc as a tag so that  I can keep track of them and reblog your posts.

If you have any questions, feel free to sed me an ask or message and I’ll do my very best to answer!

But first, here’s a little explanation...

I’ve split the prompts into four categories, and because it’s a season themed writing challenge, the categories are: spring, summer, autumn and winter. Each category is divided into: songs/lyrics, sentences and general prompts! What’s a general prompt, you might be asking yourself? One example is: sunglasses. That’s it! it can either be an element or a general situation if you don’t want to include a specific sentence in your fic, and they’re all related to each of the seasons. Whatever prompt you choose, please make sure to include it in your work. 

Now let’s have some fun, shall we?

Spring

1. Ho Hey - The Lumineers (holy-smoaks96 -> Steve)

2. Open Spaces - Marc Robillard

3. “I missed the sunlight” (supersoldierslover -> Steve)

4. “We’re going outside today! No staying home and huddling inside, nope.”

5. “But I brought flowers!” (marvelle -> Steve)

6. Picnics (bladebarnes -> Bucky)

7. Bare feet

8. Getting caught in the rain (untimelyideasforstories -> Bucky)

Blue Jeans - Lana del Rey (Persephone-is-her-omg -> Chase)

Garden escapades

“You taste so sweet’

“No amount of fruit tarts is going to make me change my mind, but nice try.”

Summer

9. “Summer’s meant for loving and leaving” White mustang - Lana del Rey (rotisserie-rogers -> Bucky)

10. Summertime Sadness - Lana del Rey (sanjariti -> Steve)

11. Cheap Sunglasses - RAC (-alltimelilly- -> Tony)

12. “Are you... wearing a suit? at the beach?” (theassetseyeliner -> Carter Baizen)

13. “You look amazing” (aelin-blackstairs -> Bucky)

14. Stargazing (a-splash-of-stucky -> Steve)

15. Going to a music festival

16. Barbecues (fanlove-fandomlife -> Bucky)

Summer lovin’ - Grease

13 Beaches - Lana del Rey

“I wish we could stay here forever”

“It’s the thing about summer love... Nobody ever talks about it like it’s supposed to last” (hellomissmabel -> Bucky)

Autumn

17. Shiver - Coldplay (whothehellisbella -> Bucky)

18. Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood (captnbarnesrogers -> Steve)

19. “Don’t tell me this is your first hot chocolate!” (wingtaken -> Bucky)

20. “Did we just interrupt them doing what I think they’re doing?” (whothehellisaemun -> Bucky)

21. “I’m telling you, this is my pumpkin. If you want it, you’re gonna have to fight me” (buckys-fossil -> Bucky)

22. “pumpkin spice...what?” (sgtbxckybxrnes -> Bucky)

23. “Who knew baking cookies was this hard?” (buckys-shield -> Bucky)

24. “Don’t be afraid” (haven-in-writing -> Steve)

25. Camping (denialanderror -> Bucky)

26. Haunted houses (dammitparker -> Steve)

27. Corn mazes (whiskeyandwashitape -> Bucky)

“It’s your fault that we’re stuck here in the middle of the night” (tasting-writers-block -> Bucky)

“Don’t look at me like that, this was not my idea” (onceupenahiddleston -> Bucky)

“I swear to you, that thing just moved.”

Brooklyn Baby - Lana del Rey

Winter

28. I’ll Find You - Lecrae, Tori Kelly 

29. Snow - Angus and Julia Stone

30. Winter song - The Head and the Heart

31. “Sorry, it’s not me, it’s the eggnog” (just-some-drabbles -> Bucky)

32. “You remind me of the Grinch, you know? Except his heart grows three sizes and you stay an asshole”  (Buckthegrump -> Bucky)

33. “It’s not an ugly sweater!” (twisnies -> Peter Parker)

34. “You look cute when you’re cold” (starker parker -> Bucky)

35. “Here, you can borrow my blanket” (buckysinthesinbin -> Bucky)

36. Getting snowed in (themcuhasruinedme -> Sam)

37. New year’s Eve kiss (call-her-little-bird -> Bucky)

38. Frostbite (the-witching-hours12-3 -> Clint)

“You can’t carry mistletoe around so that other people will kiss you. That’s called cheating”

Going Christmas gift shopping (vibraniom -> Steve)

“How am I not expected to freeze if you’re holding all the blankets?”

Beautiful people Beautiful problems - Lana del Rey ft. Stevie Nicks

[hellomissmabel]

The girl from the village part 2

MASTERLIST

AO3 account

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warnings: Fluff. One sexual reference.

Word count: 2k

Summary: Still grieving for her husband’s death, Captain America is the last person Y/N expects to show up at her door. Their fate is connected in a peculiar way, one that sparks an unusual friendship. Yet Y/N still isn’t sure she wants to be included in this particular narrative.

A/N: written for @nataliarxmanxva and the prompt is in italics. I know this first part is extremely heavy, but the second part will be much lighter, I promise!

Series masterlist can be found here

“I’ve been wondering when you’d come and pay me a visit.” His light grey eyes are revealed the moment you set foot inside the room, eyelashes fluttering with divine elegance despite his charcoal black hair and the chains binding his hands together. “The girl from the village. The Captain’s girl, am I right?”

Eyeing him suspiciously, a question mark burning on the tip of your tongue, you inch closer to his cell. “You are Loki, right?”

With a sly smile, the imprisoned God of mischief confirms your suspicions. “I am indeed. Loki Laufeyson of Jotunheim, at your service.” He bows down for you, feigning diligence and respect, amused by your curiosity and the insecurity of your actions reflected in those Y/E/C eyes.

There’s a photograph burning in your back pocket, and as soon as you show it to the God, a fraudulent grin paints his eyes a shade darker. “A doppelganger, how endearing.”

“Do you know who he is?,” you question the God, eyes focused on his flawless face.

“I don’t,” Loki replies honestly, his voice trailing off in a suspicious whisper.

“He is a drama teacher and lives here in New York. His name is Tom. He is married to a preschool teacher and they have a son, Harry.”

“Tom…” Loki repeats his name with a certain sass. “A drama teacher? Married to a preschool teacher? How boring a life must he lead…”

Scoffing at this insult you show a second picture, one you sneaked out of Steve’s wallet when we went on his morning run today, and hold it against the glass so Loki can inspect it closely. “This girl… is she my doppelganger?”

Loki scrunches up his nose in contempt once the word falls from your lips. “Seems like it.” Taking a few steps back, he shakes his head with a dark chuckle. “You obviously don’t know much about the way the universe works, don’t you, girl?”

Feeling a little insulted by his comment, you cross your arms over your chest and stuff the pictures away in your jacket. “Before I came to New York, I didn’t know about any of this.” You gesture around you, emphasising your words. “But I’ve been around for quite some time now, yet I’m still new to all of this.”

“I can see that,” he huffs, cocking his head to the side to scrutinise you. “Do you know why the universe created doppelgangers?” With his hands, Loki attempts to conjure an image in your mind but all magic is blocked by Stark’s technology. His powers only work inside of this vault and therefore cannot reach you. Dropping his hands again with a deep groan of frustration, balling them into fists, he squints his eyes at the girl from the village in front of him.

“Doppelgangers are a glitch in the system designed by the universe. You and I,” he points towards you and then back to himself, “Are a glitch in the system of the universe. We were created for the sole purpose of cleaning up the mess. Or at least you are. And that man, what’s his name again?”

“Tom,” you whisper in a frail voice, intimidated by the God’s antics.

“The thread of life failed to bring the girl in that picture and your Captain into the same storyline, and so they created another. You. And it also just so happens that this man you’ve shown me, this Tom,” he utters the name with yet another growl of disgust, “is another way of the universe rubbing more salt into the wound.”

“Tom was created so the balance would be restored, the injustice that has fallen upon me would be corrected. At least he gets to be happy,” Loki scoffs haughtily. “Because you see, girl from the village, doppelgangers aren’t meant for happiness. They are meant for a far less exhilarating fate. They are the stitches preventing two souls from ripping apart. They are… How do you call it nowadays? They are rebound.”

You pretend there’s no hurt behind your eyes, that you are not shocked by the revelations you’ve encountered today. “Thank you for pointing that out to me,” you respond flatly, the mockery in Loki’s nature reflected in the cunning grin tugging on his lips.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he grins sardonically, bowing his head again as if to scorn you. “I rarely get any visitors these days. Not even my own brother, unless he has come to take me back to Asgard. So I must admit your presence, sweet Y/N, has lessened the solitude of my captivity considerably.”

The flirty tone to his voice is unmistakable, and it makes your stomach turn in disgust. “Don’t flatter me. You’re just some puny God, you don’t deserve my attention,” you mumble under your breath, turning your back to the dark-haired man.

“You were gone for too long,” you breathe softly into Steve’s neck, whining when he wants to kick off his sweaty workout gear first and slowly detaches you from his lap.

“I’m training for the New York marathon, baby,” the blond whispers into your ear while pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.

With a scoff, you slip out of his lap and slide onto the edge of the bed so you can watch him change, ogling him without shame or apology. He is your boyfriend after all. “You don’t need to train for the New York marathon, Steve,” you huff with a half-smile as the corner of your lip twitches in appreciation once the super soldier takes his shirt off.

“But I want to,” he retorts with a boyish grin, catching you stare at him with greedy eyes and grabby hands. Kicking off his pants and boxers next, he shuffles over to the closet to grab himself a new pair. Rolling your eyes at him, you chuckle darkly once his pert ass sparks your interest. “And because Sam asked me to.”

Steve then returns to the bed and curls up next to you. “How was your morning, Y/N?,” he sighs into your hair, peppering your face with tiny, soft kisses.

Biting your lower lip, you cast your eyes downwards when you mentally prepare yourself for Steve’s reaction. You weren’t going to tell him at first, but then on your way back from Loki’s cell you ran into Natasha Romanoff. She didn’t say anything but one raised brow from the redhead is enough to raise your walls and watch your step. She will eventually talk to you about it, if she hasn’t talked to Steve about it already.

“I went to see him,” you admit gingerly, shifting uncomfortably in the sheets as you gaze at Steve from the corner of your eye. “Loki. I went to see Loki.”

The Captain is quiet for a few seconds before a long, tired exhale breaks his distant posture. “I know.”

Eyeing him with surprise evidently etched onto your face, you put your hand in front of your mouth to muffle your gasp. “You know? Did – Did Natasha tell you?”

“No, I haven’t seen her yet so she didn’t tell me anything. I just –“ Steve takes your hands in his and rests his forehead on your collarbone, tightening his arms around your waist. “I knew that sooner or later you’d go to see him. You deserve answers. You deserve to know and who am I to stop you? I am just a man who loves you.”

“And I am just a woman who loves you,” you reply in a heartbeat, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of his head. “Steve… I’m sorry I went behind your back.”

“Don’t apologise, baby,” Steve hums to your skin, pecking your pulse point with his tender lips. “Did you learn anything from your visit?”

With calculated precision, you reveal Loki’s explanation to Steve’s eager ears, careful to not hurt him as much as Loki hurt you with his snide remarks. How doppelgangers aren’t meant for a joyful life and are just a simple means to an end. Nevertheless, as you take your lover’s feelings into account, you forget to listen to your own emotions and as soon as you feel yourself cascade down the staircase of your own insecurities during a silent dance macabre, you find solace in Steve’s warmth.

His heart is in his eyes and on his tongue as he comforts you. “Loki gets off on hurting people, Y/N, I warned you about that.”

Clinging onto his chest as you lower your head and turn your body so you can rest your cheek on Steve’s chest, your eyes flutter closed at the soft timbre of his chest heaving up and down in rhythmic breathing. “I know, I know. But it still hurt to hear that I wasn’t even part of the big plan in the first place.”

“If that is in fact true,” Steve announces in his no-nonsense Avenger voice, “Then it doesn’t really matter because you are here now, with me, in our bed, in our bedroom, in our apartment and on our floor.”

It makes you giggle and Steve breaks character as soon as your hearty laugh rumbles through your lungs and infects your soldier, too. “I love you, sweet Y/N. I don’t care if you were part of the bigger plan. You are part of my plan and that’s what matters most.”

“You’re such a softie,” you comment on Steve’s impromptu declaration of love. “I’m glad you came looking for me.”

“I’m glad you look like Naomi,” you smiles down at you and you hit his knee with your own as payback for such a sneaky comment. “Ow! No, seriously, though,” Steve is quick to correct himself, “Thanks to your resemblance to Naomi, I found the love of my life.”

Upon gazing into his eyes, your heart flutters out of your chest thanks to the wings Steve’s love has given it. “Those are big words, Captain.”

Chuckling happily, he captures your lips in a loving kiss. “You’re forgetting I am a big man. So big words to match a big man.”

“Oh, you’re big alright,” you joke suggestively, your sultry look inching down to his boxer briefs. Steve erupts into a bouldering laugh, clutching his side from laughing too hard as he shakes awake your dog, Scout. With loud barks and a waggling tail, the now not so little pup jumps onto the bed to give his parents some attention.

Scratching behind Scout’s ears while he licks your cheek repeatedly, you look over at Steve who watches you with a boyish grin, happy to finally see all the pieces to the puzzle fall in place. “I remember when we first came out as a couple and told the team. I recall Bucky going all ‘I knew it! Friends don’t share the same bed!’ and Natasha snickering in turn because of course she’d known for a long time.”

As you mimic Bucky’s voice, Steve shakes his head and coos Scout over to his side. The dog nestles himself at Steve’s head, allowing you some more quality time as Steve presses you closer to his torso. “In the beginning, we were also just friend sharing the same bed.”

“I wasn’t ready to come to terms with the past, to bury the hatchet and reconcile with myself. But I am now, all thanks to you. Now I’m ready for whatever comes next because I know you’ll be by my side throughout it all. For I am just a woman who loves you.”

“And I am just a man who loves you,” Steve repeats softly, pressing his nose to yours in a moment of intimacy, when you’re just staring into each other’s eyes without saying another word. It is then that he realises Naomi was right. She was not the right girl for him. She might’ve been his first, but Y/N will definitely be his last.

Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @howlingbarnes @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @barnes-heaven @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @supernaturaldean65 @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @sniktlogan @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl @capbuckybuchanan @lovemarvelousfics @yknott81 @rrwilson66 @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers @sammyissassy @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @kudosia @bellejeunefillesansmerci @lumelgy @mizzzpink @southernbellestatues @daringtodreamawake @neurotic-narwhal @cokamarie24 @blue1928 @movingonto-betterthings @breezy1415 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @jesspfly @weenie-butt @debzybrazy @fuckingchaotic  @always-an-evans-addict @petersunderroos  @thegreentgirl @nedthegay @eve1978 @yourtropegirl @4theluvofall @lostinthoughtsandfeelings

@@princess-evans-addict @hellkat2 @lovelifeeat

Strikethrough means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you!

[moonbeambucky]

Fallin’ for You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Reader Word Count: 3630 Warnings: light angst, fluff

Summary: The Avengers spend their day off at a farm near the compound where the leafs aren’t the only things that have fallen.

A/N: This is my submission for @nataliarxmanxva Sofi’s Season’s Change Writing Challenge. My prompt was “Don’t look at me like that, this was not my idea” Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated! gif source (x)

It was a beautiful day as the crisp wind blew, rustling the golden leaves of the surrounding trees. You were excited, walking with a little extra zest in your step as you crunched on the leaves that trailed up the entrance of to Lee Farms.

This past weekend had been their annual fair, kicking off your favorite season, fall. It’s the perfect weather; cool enough to snuggle up in a hoodie in the early mornings and evenings, with just the right amount of sun during the day, whose rays warmed you like your favorite hot drink. 

This season had your favorite festivities like apple picking and finding the perfect pumpkin to carve for Halloween. You missed going to the farm near you. It had been a yearly tradition with your best friend Joe but life has changed for both of you and it’s not something you’ve been able to keep up on.

Tony knew how much you missed it so he arranged this outing as a treat for the team, a break from the nonstop missions you’re all exhausted from. He booked the farm for the day, offering a generous donation to the small family owned business to help them convert their power system into something clean and more sustainable. Not everyone wanted to come though. Clint left to see his family which was understandable and Wanda and Vision stayed in. You thought they would enjoy the farm, especially Vision who loved experiencing new things but they wanted time for themselves.

As the newest member of the team it took you a while to learn all about their different personalities. Tony felt most comfortable in the lab tinkering with something, Sam always found a way to liven up the room and Steve tried to include everyone, making sure each member knew how valuable they were to the team and to him. Bucky kept to himself mostly, often reading in his room and you were surprised he came along. Overall everyone made you feel welcome, well except for Bucky. To him you were invisible and it wasn’t just because that happened to be the strange gift you were born with.

You discovered your power in the worst possible way. You already felt like an outcast in school, having only a handful of friends but still never really fitting in. You were eating lunch with Joe when you heard some girls giggling from the table behind you, their voices increasing in volume and you just sensed it had something to do with you. Suddenly you felt something foreign smack against your back, slowly sliding down. You stood up in shock to see a cheeseburger on the floor. The girls wailed with laughter as someone else threw fries at you.

Before learning to control you power your emotions would set it off. Your eyes closed to stop the hot tears from escaping, your fists squeezed into tight balls until –poof– you vanished. You opened your eyes to see everyone’s mouth agape in shock and confusion. You didn’t understand until you looked down, being able to see through yourself save for the thin outline of your body only visible to your eyes. The shock you felt turned you visible again and you ran out of the cafeteria.

The whole school was talking about you, calling you an invisible freak. Joe stood by you, defending you against them and cheering you up as he raved about how cool you were. You love your powers, now more than ever, but at that time you’ve never felt like more of an outcast.

Here you were again, feeling out of place for the most part. Bucky just didn’t see you. Sometimes that was okay though, because every time you saw him your heart fluttered. You couldn’t help the crush you had on him, he was obviously very attractive but there was more to him than that. He was mostly quiet except around Steve, that’s when he blossomed with his beautiful smile shining through. And his laugh, oh how you loved that sound.

When you were around Bucky you were horribly clumsy except during a mission. Somehow in the midst of stress that’s when you were the most levelheaded. Enemies surrounding you, great, no problem. Pouring a glass of orange juice in front of him, complete disaster.

Being invisible had its perks though because at least you could watch Bucky without the threat of embarrassing yourself. You never abused your power though, only pining for him silent and unseen while he cooked dinner or when he would sit on the grass after a nightmare, letting the gentle wind and the morning symphony of birds relax his mind.

A few days ago you went to watch him at the gym, Natasha unknowingly passed by you as you watched Bucky lifting an enormous amount of weight. He grunted, bringing up the barbell and you had to bite your lip hard to stifle the noises that threatened to escape. Steve hovered over him, encouraging his friend to finish his set. Bucky’s tongue slipped out to lick his lips as his face strained from the exertion.

“Hello Miss Y/N.” The tranquil voice of the android broke the silence.

You turned around with a look of horror, with eyes as wide as your mouth was open to see Vision, innocently standing there to greet you as his powers enabled him to see through your own.

“Y/N?” Bucky questioned, looking over towards where it was assumed you were standing. You smacked your head as you became visible, dragging your palm down your face in disbelief.

“Working out today?” Steve asked. From the corner of your eye you saw Natasha cock her head, smirking as she watched the embarrassed expression on your face grow. “Uhhhhhh, I’m not here,” you said, practically sprinting out of the gym.

I’m not here!? Ugh, you’re so stupid.

Natasha caught up with you after, forcing you to admit your feelings for Bucky. She vowed to help you though, trying many times to gauge Bucky’s interest but he was very protective of himself. It’s probably why he’s barely a word to you now.

Bucky may not be interested in you but at least you had an eager audience of animals. You walked to the open pens of the goats and sheep, attempting to pet them but they stuck their heads out, overzealously nudging your hands with their face as they were eager to be fed. Their tongues tickled your palm as they lapped up the food pellets you had, allowing you to finally pet them after a few rounds of feeding. You walked backwards, smiling as you said goodbye to those animals before slamming into something– no, someone.

“S-sorry,” you stammered, having backed up right into Bucky. You washed your hands in the outdoor sink, wishing you could rinse away your insecurities as well. Finding Natasha, you looped your arm through hers, telling her about your latest disaster.

Everyone made their way into the chicken barn, passing an incubator before huddling around baby chicks. You squealed in delight, gently cupping the pale yellow fuzz balls of cuteness. Natasha grabbed your phone at your behest, to take pictures of you holding one close, softly caressing its little head.

You placed the chick back gently and were about to pick up another one but something caught your eye. Looking over you saw Bucky standing against the wall watching you and your eyes flared with anxiety. He shifted his focus on Tony teasing Sam. That’s right, you knew he wasn’t just watching you, why would he?

The group laughed as Tony couldn’t stop his jokes, asking Sam if he feels at home in the chicken coop. Everyone was distracted by their back and forth, laughing as Sam told Tony he looked like a shiny metal chicken. You smiled but kept silent, not wanting to get yourself involved in this and turned back towards the baby chicks when you noticed Bucky was still up against the wall. He’s smiling at the chicks but he hasn’t gone near them at all.

You’re not sure what gave you the courage to speak up but you walked towards him and asked why he wasn’t holding them. He softly cleared his throat, “I don’t want to hurt them,” he said, waving his metal hand up.

His eyes held a fear you couldn’t understand. “Bucky you would never.” You said it confidently, knowing it was true in your heart despite Bucky’s apprehension.

You turned his metal palm over with your hand and placed the tiny chick in it. Grabbing his other hand you motioned for him to cradle the small animal against his chest. Your breath caught in your throat when you realized your hands were still touching his. The gaze of his beautiful blue eyes hypnotized you for a moment before you let go, nervously smiling and running back to Natasha.

After washing up again everyone stopped to eat. The farm had graciously put together a buffet of different offerings, cheeseburgers, pulled pork sandwiches, chicken wings (which you declined after spending so much time with the baby chicks) plus sides of fries, kettle chips and fresh corn. Natasha had wordless configured the seating arrangements so that Bucky was across from you. You caught Bucky’s gaze as you sat down on the bench, trying to control your shaky hands to avoid spilling your cup of apple cider. Smiling quickly you looked away before filling your plate with food.

You spaced out while eating until you hear a voice call your name. Looking up you see Bucky waiting for an answer to the question you didn’t hear.

“Huh?” you asked, wiping your mouth with the napkin.

“Is it good? The corn?”

You pondered his seemingly obvious question for a second and you were about to answer him but you stopped yourself, feeling pieces of corn all throughout your teeth. You shut your mouth tightly and nodded your head as you hummed your answer. You hated doing this but there was no choice, you went invisible, just for a few seconds to pick the corn out of your teeth in private.

“Hey Frodo, will you take the ring off and come tell us what you wanna do next?” Tony sarcastically said.

You reappeared, smiling at one of the many nicknames he’s given you. “Okay so is everyone ready for the corn maze?” you asked enthusiastically. You explained that you’ve done them more times than you can count.

“What’s the fastest time you’ve ever finished?” Sam asked.

“My record is twelve minutes.” It was the fastest time you and Joe had ever done the maze and Sam nodded approvingly.

Natasha split everyone into teams, she and Steve, Sam with Tony and of course you and Bucky. You made a mental note to buy her a churro when you get out of there as a thank you.

“No, no I’m sitting this one out,” Tony spoke up. “Getting lost in a field of vegetables, not my thing. You kids have fun.”

You were disappointed because you believed everyone should enjoy a good corn maze but now Sam insisted on joining your team thanks to your earlier bragging. “Twelve minutes huh? Well with me on your team we’re gonna get outta here in less than ten,” Sam laughed, throwing his arm around you.

Everyone waited for the farm employee to come over. The clearly intimidated kid squeaked out the rules of the maze, showing everyone an aerial map of the large field. He explained that the theme was based off of Charlotte’s Web.

“Ooooh I love Charlotte’s Web!” you interrupted.

Sam narrowed his eyes towards you and smirked, “Y/N will you let, uh what’s your name?”

“K-Kevin,” the boy sheepishly replied.

“Will you let my man Kevin here finish? I really don’t want to be stuck here all day.” You mimed zipping your mouth shut and throwing away the key as Sam rolled his eyes, missing the way Bucky cracked at smile at your gesture.

Kevin laughed and then stopped himself, unsure if he was allowed to laugh at an Avenger. He continued, flipping over the map to reveal a color coded version of the maze. He explained that the pathways have different color ribbon around them and that you need to find the black ribbon where Charlotte is depicted to cross the bridge of victory.

Steve looked over the map he handed each team, “It’s blank.”

Kevin explained there are nine mailboxes hidden within the maze, each provided a small piece of the map. You could look for them if you want or just try to get out on your own. “If you make the first nine moves correctly then you’ll be out in fifteen minutes, if not we clear the field at the end of the season so we’ll find you eventually,” he said, finding the courage to make a joke.

“Why am I doing this?” Sam questioned.

“Because it’s fun!” you replied with a beaming smile.

Making your way into the field you were given two options, right or left. Steve and Natasha went right and so Sam insisted you three turn left. You crossed under the bridge of victory but clearly you’re a long way from finding its entrance. Bucky stayed relatively silent, following behind as you and Sam tried to navigate the maze. You found one mailbox, taping the tiny section of the map to its corresponding location on your paper, but it didn’t help you. After thirty minutes of Sam’s increasing frustration he finally spoke up.

“I thought you were good at this!”

“Yeah, well each maze is different Sam,” you said as you pondered a crossroads between green or red ribbon.

“What’s the longest you’ve ever been in one of these?” he asked.

“Hmmm,” you thought about it, “Close to two hours.”

Sam practically shrieked, “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“You didn’t ask,” you said, holding in your bubbling laughter as you stared at his frowning face. You turned around at the sound of Bucky laughing and it made your heart swell. There it was, that sound you seldom heard but loved so much.

Sam shook his head, “Nah, nope. I’m getting out of here.”

He went through his backpack and put on his goggles. Both you and Bucky stared at him in confusion. When he took out his drone you had to question him. “Sam what are you doing?”

Redwing flew up above the field scanning the pathways.

“Sam you can’t, that’s cheating!” you tried to plead with him.

“Don’t look at me like that, this was not my idea!” he said, touching his goggles and presumably deciphering his way out. “I did not sign up to be stuck in a corn maze all day. I’m gettin’ outta here the easy way.”

Sam turned the corner, focused on leaving the maze. You and Bucky stared at each other, sharing a knowing look before bursting out with laughter.

“Shut up!” you heard a distance voice shout.

You wiped tears away that formed from laughing too much. “I guess it’s just us,” you smiled at Bucky. “Uh… unless you want to follow him out,” you said, regretting that you gave him an opportunity to leave.

“No I’ll stay. I just hope it doesn’t take two hours.” Your smile faded for a moment before he continued speaking, “I’m still hungry.”

“Oh! I have some almonds in my bag if you want,” you scrambled to search inside your bag to pull out the small packet.

It slipped from your hand before you gave it to him and you both bent down at the same time to get it, bumping heads in the process. The force of Bucky’s strong body knocked you to the ground.

“Ow,” you hissed, rubbing your forehead.

“I’m so sorry!” Bucky apologized, helping you up to your feet. You brushed off the dirt from your backside, clearing your throat and offering Bucky to lead the way.

You and Bucky continued, finding another map near red colored string. You pulled up your incomplete map and looked over it with Bucky.

“So we’re here but we need to get to Charlotte,” you pointed to the blank space on the map where you knew the exit was.

“Charlotte’s the spider?” Bucky asked.

“You don’t know Charlotte’s Web!?” Your question came off a bit snappier than you intended.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck and laughed, “I wasn’t around for it, doll.”

You froze for a moment before spewing out your words entirely too fast in response to the name he called you, “Oh well you should watch it. I mean it’s a children’s book you could read it, but there was a movie too.” You took a deep breath after that mouthful, reminding yourself that he calls everyone doll and it didn’t mean anything.

Bucky smiled in response to your flustering as you continue through the maze. More time has passed now and although you’re enjoying spending the time alone with Bucky the insecure part of you can’t help but to wonder if he’s regretting his decision to stay. You wondered if Natasha & Steve got out of the maze. You hadn’t seen Redwing flying over head in some time so you assumed Sam did. Even though you’re enjoying yourself with Bucky you felt very disappointed in your lack of skills.

“I swear I’m really good at these normally, or maybe I’m not. Maybe it was all Joe,” you thought.

“Joe?” Bucky questioned with a hint of sadness in his inflection.

“Yeah he’s been my best friend since we were thirteen. He was the only person I could trust. Everybody else judged me or tried to use me because of my powers but not Joe.”

Bucky’s mouth opened to speak but you continued, frowning as you expressed how much you missed Joe. He shut his own mouth, feeling his whole body sink at your confession.

“But I get it,” you continued, “Our lives a very different now. Me with all of this world saving stuff and now that his wife is pregnant I think our corn maze days are over.”

You heard Bucky sigh in what seemed like relief but again you doubted it. He was probably just catching his breath from all the walking you’ve been doing in the hot sun together.

The farm was oddly quiet except for the distant sound of a tractor. Your mind drifted as you passed the pink ribbon representing Wilbur the pig.

“There were two movies actually,” you said looking up at Bucky, continuing the conversation about Charlotte’s Web that had finished long ago. “The original is my favorite, better music.”

“Oh yeah?” he replied.

You began to softly sing under your breath as you referenced the map for a possible route out, “Oh we’ve got lots in common where it really counts, where it really counts, we’ve got large amounts. What we look like doesn’t count an ounce. We’ve got lots in common where it really it counts.” You felt Bucky’s eyes on you which made you smile nervously.

“Is that from the movie?” he asked. You nodded quickly, feeling embarrassed for singing at all. “Will you watch it with me?”

You turned your head up, brows furrowing in confusion and shock. “Um, yeah sure.” Your face began to heat up and you didn’t think it was from the sun.

“Back at red again! Bucky I don’t think we’re ever getting out of here. I’m afraid I’m not a good corn maze partner,” you said, holding your head in your hands in frustration.

“It’s fine, I’m having a really nice time.”

“Can I ask you something?” You swallowed hard before continuing, holding on to some form of false courage. “This is the first time you’ve talked to me… like ever, outside of a mission. Now you want to hang out. I mean, I want to but I’m…” you stammered on before realizing you had spoken over Bucky.

He repeated his words, “I like you Y/N.”

“What?” you screamed. “I mean, sorry, it’s just this came out of nowhere…”

Bucky cleared his throat, “Yeah, I’m not good at letting people in after everything… I put up walls to protect myself.”

You smiled at his admission. “When Steve told me you liked me…”

“Natasha!” you jokingly hissed her name.

He chuckled, “I never thought you saw me as anything more than a teammate but when I found out I was trying to find the right way to tell you.”

You sighed heavily, “Well we can thank them both if we ever get out of here.”

Bucky laughed, that sweet sound that you’ve been hearing more and more as the day went on. “Oh it’s just this way.” Your brows furrowed as you stared at him waiting for an explanation.

“Yeah, I saw the black string a long time ago but I made us go the other way.”

“Why?”

His smile softened. “Because I wanted to spend more time with you doll.”

“Bucky Barnes I’m going to beat you over the head with this corn!” you joked, playfully shoving him. Your hands lingered on his muscular chest as you stared into his blue eyes, the corners crinkled as he smiled from ear to ear.

He wrapped his arms around you and you felt yourself growing warmer under his stare. Your eyes focused on the way his tongue slipped out to lick his lips as he leaned in towards you and you closed the gap. You whimpered as his soft lips molded perfectly with your own, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Overcome with emotion you had unintentionally disappeared. Redwing was flying overhead as Sam watched Bucky awkwardly kissing the air.

“Yeah, they’re falling for each other,” he smirked, telling the rest of the team.

[authoressskr]

bahahahahaha Frodo 🤣🤣

Fallin’ for You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Reader Word Count: 3630 Warnings: light angst, fluff

Summary: The Avengers spend their day off at a farm near the compound where the leafs aren’t the only things that have fallen

A/N: This is my submission for @nataliarxmanxva Sofi’s Season’s Change Writing Challenge. My prompt was “Don’t look at me like that, this was not my idea” gif not mine, source (x)

It was a beautiful day as the crisp wind blew, rustling the golden leaves of the surrounding trees. You were excited, walking with a little extra zest in your step as you crunched on the leaves that trailed up the entrance of to Lee Farms.

This past weekend had been their annual fair, kicking off your favorite season, fall. It’s the perfect weather; cool enough to snuggle up in a hoodie in the early mornings and evenings, with just the right amount of sun during the day, whose rays warmed you like your favorite hot drink. 

This season had your favorite festivities like apple picking and finding the perfect pumpkin to carve for Halloween. You missed going to the farm near you. It had been a yearly tradition with your best friend Joe but life has changed for both of you and it’s not something you’ve been able to keep up on.

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[sheerioasteroidpanda]

OMG so sweet!!!!!!!!! I love this omg!!!

Fallin’ for You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Reader Word Count: 3414 Warnings: Fluff!

Summary: The Avengers spend their day off at a farm near the compound.

A/N: This is my submission for @nataliarxmanxva Sofi’s Season’s Change Writing Challenge. My prompt was “Don’t look at me like that, this was not my idea” pic not mine, source (x)

It was a beautiful day as the crisp wind blew, rustling the golden leaves of the surrounding trees. You were excited, walking with a little extra zest in your step as you crunched on the leaves that trailed up the entrance of to Pine Valley Farm.

This past weekend had been their annual fair, kicking off your favorite season, fall. It’s the perfect weather, cool enough to snuggle up in a hoodie in the early mornings and evenings, and just the right amount of sun during the day, whose rays warmed you like your favorite hot drink. This season had your favorite festivities like apple picking and finding the perfect pumpkin to carve for Halloween. You missed going to the farm near you, it had been a yearly tradition with your best friend Joe but life has changed for both of you and it’s not something you’ve been able to keep up on.

Tony knew how much you missed it so he arranged this outing as a treat for the team, a break from the nonstop missions you’re all exhausted from. He booked the farm for the day, offering a generous donation to the small family owned business to help them convert their power system into something clean and more sustainable. Not everyone wanted to come though. Clint left to see his family which is understandable but Wanda and Vision stayed in. You thought they would enjoy the farm, especially Vision who loved experiencing new things.

As the newest member of the team it took you a while to learn all about their different personalities. Tony felt most comfortable in the lab tinkering with something, Sam always found a way to liven up the room and Steve tried to include everyone, making sure each member knew how valuable they were to the team and to him. Bucky kept to himself mostly, often reading in his room. You were surprised he even agreed to come along today. Everyone made you feel welcome, well, except for Bucky. To him you were invisible and it’s not just because that happened to be the strange gift you were born with.

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[amoonagedaydreamer]

Just so fracking adorable. I love pumpkin patches and corn mazes and everything about fall. So sweet! Love it💕💕🎃🍁🍂

Fallin’ for You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Reader Word Count: 3414 Warnings: Fluff!

Summary: The Avengers spend their day off at a farm near the compound.

A/N: This is my submission for @nataliarxmanxva Sofi’s Season’s Change Writing Challenge. My prompt was “Don’t look at me like that, this was not my idea” pic not mine, source (x)

It was a beautiful day as the crisp wind blew, rustling the golden leaves of the surrounding trees. You were excited, walking with a little extra zest in your step as you crunched on the leaves that trailed up the entrance of to Pine Valley Farm.

This past weekend had been their annual fair, kicking off your favorite season, fall. It’s the perfect weather, cool enough to snuggle up in a hoodie in the early mornings and evenings, and just the right amount of sun during the day, whose rays warmed you like your favorite hot drink. This season had your favorite festivities like apple picking and finding the perfect pumpkin to carve for Halloween. You missed going to the farm near you, it had been a yearly tradition with your best friend Joe but life has changed for both of you and it’s not something you’ve been able to keep up on.

Tony knew how much you missed it so he arranged this outing as a treat for the team, a break from the nonstop missions you’re all exhausted from. He booked the farm for the day, offering a generous donation to the small family owned business to help them convert their power system into something clean and more sustainable. Not everyone wanted to come though. Clint left to see his family which is understandable but Wanda and Vision stayed in. You thought they would enjoy the farm, especially Vision who loved experiencing new things.

As the newest member of the team it took you a while to learn all about their different personalities. Tony felt most comfortable in the lab tinkering with something, Sam always found a way to liven up the room and Steve tried to include everyone, making sure each member knew how valuable they were to the team and to him. Bucky kept to himself mostly, often reading in his room. You were surprised he even agreed to come along today. Everyone made you feel welcome, well, except for Bucky. To him you were invisible and it’s not just because that happened to be the strange gift you were born with.

Keep reading