#the old man was Steve after he realized and decided to return to give the shield to Sam

[haywrites]

For my sanity I just believe that at the end of Endgame Steve went back to Vormir and managed to somehow bring Natasha back to life by trading the soul stone for her life but in doing so he created a branch timeline and so they are happily living off in another universe.

[marvelskies1969]

Infinity

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader / Loki x Fem!Reader

Premise: Y/N Rogers was sent away as a child, her powers deemed dangerous. After years of brief summers with Steve and Bucky, she returns for good when their mother dies—just as war begins.

As her abilities awaken, she draws the attention of Loki, the trickster god, and faces growing fear from those around her. Caught between destiny, war, and forbidden ties, Y/N must decide who she truly is—and who she’s willing to fight for.

Warnings/content: slight angst, brief mention of death/dying, jealousy, sexual assault, fluff, swearing, unstable parental relationships, follows the plot of the MCU timeline, with small changes.

[Masterlist]

[Part 1]

(Chapter 7)

Knight in Shining Armour

Bucky should have been enjoying himself.

That was the whole damn point.

The music in the bar was loud, the air thick with smoke and laughter, the scent of whiskey and cheap perfume clinging to everything. The kind of night he normally thrived in. The kind of night he had always thrived in.

But tonight, he felt off. Everything felt off.

And he knew exactly why.

His fingers drummed restlessly against the wood of the table as Steve droned on about some guy he’d nearly fought in line at the enlistment office. Normally, Bucky would’ve been all over that, teasing him about picking fights he couldn’t win, but his focus was elsewhere.

Across the table, Y/N sat with her fingers curled around a glass, her gaze cast downward, her lips barely parted like she was lost in thought.

And not once had she looked at him.

Not once.

He should’ve expected this. Things had been weird since the hospital—since that damn moment between them that neither of them had acknowledged, but both of them felt.

So, fine. If she wanted to pretend nothing had changed, then he could do the same.

He could make this easy.

Which was why he had an arm slung lazily around the waist of a blonde he barely remembered the name of, whispering smooth words into her ear as she giggled and leaned closer, her fingers toying with the collar of his shirt.

It was the oldest trick in the book.

And it should have worked.

Except it didn’t.

Because when he stole a glance across the table, Y/N’s posture was stiff, her fingers white-knuckling the drink in her hand. Her lips pressed together as she laughed at something Steve said, but he knew her too well.

That wasn’t her laugh.

And that? That did something dangerous to him.

She wasn’t looking at him, wasn’t even acknowledging him, but he could feel the tension between them. Like a live wire sparking under the surface.

Damn it.

“Bucky.” The blonde giggled, tapping his chin playfully. “You listenin’ to me, sweetheart?”

He blinked, barely registering what she had said. “Course I am, doll.” He smirked, shifting his attention back to her. He turned up the charm, letting himself fall into old habits, giving her the full weight of his smile, the same one that always worked.

Except the only person he wanted to look at him wasn’t.

And for the first time in his life, flirting with a pretty girl felt like a mistake.

Steve let out an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, I’m getting another drink before I have to watch Barnes charm another girl into regretting her choices.” He stood, rolling his eyes, before clapping Bucky on the shoulder and heading toward the bar.

Leaving them alone.

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Y/N traced the rim of her glass with her finger, still not looking at him.

Bucky exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of everything between them settle deep in his chest.

This wasn’t how they were supposed to be.

This wasn’t them.

And that realization? That scared him more than any war ever could.

Then he saw the man approach her.

Tall. Dark-haired. Smiling like he already had her figured out.

Bucky’s whole body tensed.

He didn’t like this. Not one damn bit.

But before he could even shift forward, Y/N spoke.

“I don’t interfere with the girls who come up to you, Barnes.” Her voice was cool, indifferent. “So don’t bother interfering with me.”

Bucky stilled.

It shouldn’t have hit him like that.

But it did.

He swallowed, forcing himself to lean back into his chair with a lazy smirk, like he didn’t care.

Like it didn’t matter.

“Suit yourself, doll.”

And with that, he stood, heading for the bar without looking back.

His grip on the edge of the bar was tight, knuckles nearly white as he waved down the bartender.

He wasn’t going to look back.

He wasn’t.

Damn it. He needed to stop caring so much.

Y/N wasn’t his.

She never had been.

She never would be.

It didn’t matter that the thought of her smiling at someone else made his stomach feel like it had been turned inside out. It didn’t matter that some guy was probably leaning in right now, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh, that made her look at him the way Bucky wished she’d look at him.

And it sure as hell didn’t matter that if she was his, he’d never have to watch someone else try to win her over.

Because she wasn’t.

She was just Y/N.

Steve’s sister.

His friend.

That was all.

That was all it ever could be.

So why the hell did it feel like something was clawing at his ribs, like he was already losing something he never had?

“Whiskey.” His voice came out rougher than he intended. The bartender nodded, sliding him a glass.

Bucky picked it up, rolling the amber liquid around the edges, jaw tight.

She wasn’t his.

She could talk to whoever she wanted.

He had no right to be jealous.

So why the hell did he feel like if he turned around, he’d regret it?

And he did.

Because when he finally looked back, she was gone.

And so was the guy.

A cold dread slithered down his spine.

His feet were moving before his brain could catch up, shoving through the crowded bar, heart hammering. He scanned the bar frantically, calling her name, looking in every corner he could find. Nothing.

The moment he burst outside, he spotted them.

Y/N’s back was pressed against the alley wall, the guy leaning in way too close, his hands where they shouldn’t be.

Bucky saw red.

“Get your hands off her.” His voice was low, lethal.

The guy barely had time to turn before Bucky’s fist crashed into his jaw. The crack of impact echoed through the alley, the man stumbling back with a groan.

“Jesus—what the hell, man?” He spat blood onto the pavement, glaring at Bucky before his expression turned smug. “Fine. She’s frigid anyway.”

Bucky lunged for him again, but the guy was already backing off, raising his hands in mock surrender as he disappeared into the night.

Bucky’s breath was ragged as he turned to Y/N.

And that’s when he froze.

She wasn’t saying something sharp or sarcastic. She wasn’t rolling her eyes, brushing it off like she normally would.

She was shaking.

Tears lined her eyes, her whole frame trembling.

And for the first time in his life, Bucky saw her. Not the quick-witted, stubborn girl who could handle herself in a world that underestimated her—just her. Vulnerable. Frightened. Small.

He didn’t know what to do with it.

His arms moved before he could think, pulling her in.

She didn’t fight it.

Didn’t say a damn word.

Just buried her face against his chest as a quiet, shattered sob escaped her lips.

And Bucky felt it crack something inside him.

He held her tighter, pressing his chin to the top of her head. “I got you, doll,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “You’re safe. I promise.”

And he meant it.

With everything he had.

A second later, Steve came around the corner, freezing at the sight. His eyes flickered between them, between the way Y/N clung to Bucky like he was the only thing keeping her upright.

But he didn’t say anything.

Just stepped forward and rested a hand on her back, grounding her between the two people who would never, ever let anything happen to her.

[doctorstrangereview]

0134: Doctor Strange (vol. 2) #6

Cover Date: February 1975 On-Sale Date: November 12, 1974

And thus we begin arc two of Doc's second solo series. Sadly we lose the brilliant Frank Brunner who gives us one last gasp by penciling the cover. The equally brilliant, but stylistically very different, Gene Colan rejoins the title after a wonderful run on Doc's first solo run. Steve goes back to basics with some returning villains along with a legal loophole, to be explored later in the arc. And Clea goes off on her own for a bit.

It's a wonderful day. Doc and Clea are taking a stroll in the park. Doc has even conjured an illusion that makes their normie clothes look like their sorcery clothes. It's quite spiffy.

The magical pair aren't just here for a relaxing walk. They have a little mission. A few issues ago (about eight months ago in real time as Doc is a bi-monthly title) there was a little mishap with a little rabbit who became a big rabbit and then ran away. For one of the first times in comic history there will be a hero dealing with the consequences of his battles. Our giant Leporidae has found himself a member of the Central Park Zoo.

Clea decides that casting her spell to return the big-eared fluffy while in ghost form. Gene and colorist Petra Goldberg make the choice of having Clea's astral body be a pale pastel version of her physical self. She's also wearing her funky collared sorcery outfit. This makes sense as her miniskirt is really an illusion.

Clea restores the creature to it's former reduced glory and returns to her body after causing a minor ado by appearing to faint. After departing from the rabbit's vicinity the pair run into a junkie who will hold something of a significant role in the story.

Doc explains heroin addiction to Clea and expresses his disapproval of the young man's habit. The young man retorts with along winded speech about destruction and walks away. Clea asks if there's anything they can do and Doc replies "It's beyond even a Sorcerer Supreme." It turns out the encounter wasn't accidental. Mr. Young Junkie was testing the pair!

This leads to another "chance" encounter that's anything but. Doc disguises the incident from the rabble, but we, the readers, get to see the exciting parts. The little old lady who bumps into our pair of heroes is really Umar, the Unrelenting!

Doc dispatches Umar and her hordes a bit too easily.

Yup, Umar has ulterior motives as well. We'll learn that two characters having ulterior motives isn't a coincidence. Doc realizes that things went too easily. He and Clea enter the Sanctum Sanctorum with a neat effect by Gene.

Doc believes that Dormammu is behind this and recalls the events of the Avengers/Defenders war and a later encounter with the Watcher who says Dormie would regenerate and be reborn. Doc attempts to use the Orb of Agamotto to track Umar, but she blocks his efforts. Doc goes to the Dark Dimension to investigate further, but Clea doesn't accompany him and refuses to explain why. It's a neat exit after all the portal stuff you see in the MCU films.

We even get a call-back to Doc's rebirth in issue #4 as he travels far away.

The Ankh will show up sporadically for a couple of years only to be forgotten and never seen again in modern times. Doc's role is done for this issue. Let's look in on Clea.

Clea walks around town contemplating if she should tell Doc why she refused to join him in the Dark Dimension. As she looks around she sees that the city has suddenly transformed into an ancient, virgin forest. There's even a creepy voice calling Clea's name.

We will learn this is Mother Nature! (Eventually we will learn that she is Thor's mommy as well.) She even slightly resembles Dena Dietrich of those old Chiffon Margarine commecials!

Clea returns to the Sanctum and orders poor Wong to attend her as she will be journeying outside her body. (Her words.) Clea heads to Earth's core. Mother Nature warns her away. She was expecting Clea to enlist Doc in the cause.

Clea is attacked by demons on the way down. They surround her on one side and she is backed against supernatural lava. Clea is unable to flee. Clea then discovers what is causing the problems at Earth's core.

Steve and Gene have given us quite the run-up to the newest tale. Steve started in the middle of an arc. The next two arcs get off the ground practically from the first page. This is a slower burn. We have an idyllic opening. Doc and Clea are leisurely ambling though the park to take care of a minor matter. Steve plants some clues that seem lacking significance now, but will be more heavily involved in the story later. Doc is tough and clever. He demonstrates decent detective skills. And he's emotional and tender with Clea.

It's an excellent start for the updated creative team!

[themculibrary]

M'Baku Masterlist

A Contrast of Flavors (ao3) - lionessvalenti bucky/m’baku E, 691

Summary: M'Baku reminds Bucky that he's a person.

All Good Architects (ao3) - camichats m'baku/tony T, 570

Summary: M'Baku wants his first architect job to go well. As the one who commissioned the building design, his boyfriend Tony thinks he should relax a little.

Do you Realize (ao3) - stececilia sam/scott, bucky/m’baku M, 6k

Summary: Scott returns from Wakanda with some major news that will change the dynamics of the avengers pack.

Flirting in the Lab is Now Prohibited (ao3) - mostlystuckony (Aprilmallick) m’baku/tony T, 730

Summary: Tony and M'Baku flirt in Shuri's lab.

in cayenne and honey, in vinegar and lime (ao3) - alby_mangroves, Nonymos bucky/m’baku, steve/bucky, m’baku/okoye E, 27k

Summary: M’Baku fought for T’Challa. But should he keep fighting for T’Challa’s vision? The king is professing change, such deep change, while the Jabari are supposed to be the guardians of tradition.

It’s a complex problem, which demands a cool head. So M’Baku could really do without an old love coming back to haunt him, an obnoxious royal teenager, and T’Challa’s secret one-armed guest.

Inspired (ao3) - opalsandlace T, 800

Summary: M'Baku tries his hand at spoken word

moonstone (ao3) - jesspava (cyclical) m’baku/t’challa G, 3k

Summary: “So you two are having sex!” Shuri yells.

From the bed, T’Challa looks up, face blank. His stack of papers lowers a fraction.

“We are?” he asks drily, “M’Baku why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve put my book down.”

my spirit swims right to the hook (ao3) - napricot bucky/m’baku E, 20k

Summary: “What’s this one?” asked Oson, poking at one of the kimoyo beads. M’Baku frowned down at it. He didn’t think the princess had offered an explanation of this one, at least, not beyond it offering a connection to the internet. Was this one for Wakanda’s internet, or the rest of the world’s? He toggled it on, and squinted as the unnecessarily bright hologram beamed up, proclaiming it to be Hathor’s List. A little message offered an explanation: let Hathor guide your search for a partner, not your elders’ matchmaking! Find a perfect match, or a night of pleasure!

Oh, that little brat, thought M’Baku.

One King to Another (ao3) - Saetha m’baku/namor M, 6k

Summary: Not everyone is happy with the tenuous peace between Wakanda and Talokan. Namor manages to stop an assassination attempt aimed at M'Baku, but is grievously injured in the process. After his recovery, the two rulers work together amidst the the attraction they have developed for each other

Sunkissed (ao3) - NachoDiablo, velociraptorerin m’baku/sam E, 2k

Summary: Sam's hurt on a mission. M'Baku helps him feel better.

The King and M'Baku (ao3) - tehtarik m’baku/t’challa T, 4k

Summary: “Tell me,” said T’Challa, “how did you find me?”

“One of my fishers found you. You were blocking the river. You were lying in the middle of the river on a bed of rubbish. You were belly-up like a dead crocodile with flies on its tongue in the middle of the river. The river flooded and washed away crops and whole villages. Some kind of king you are!”

“M’Baku,” said T’Challa tiredly. “Please do not tell stories.”

----

M'Baku fished his king out of the Omoogun River

The Light in The Heart (ao3) - purpleskies808 m'baku/okoye G, 1k

Summary: M’Baku is a man of honor, but there’s nothing honorable about a man who won’t give thanks. Luckily, M'Baku is not that man.

this life (all I know) (ao3) - jjjat3am m’baku/erik T, 6k

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or,

Erik tries to put his life together after surviving his fight with T'Challa. M'Baku helps. In his way.

Under the Guise of Friendship (ao3) - Marv_with_a_v bucky/m'baku T, 2k

Summary: Bucky gives M'Baku a present. Just because.

What Happens in Wakanda Stays in Wakanda (ao3) - Marv_with_a_v bucky/m'baku M, 98k

Summary: …or: that time Bucky and M'Baku gave friends with benefits a fair shot and discovered everything they needed in each other.

When We Break With Traditions (ao3) - Fighting_for_Creativity rhodey/tony, m'baku/rhodey/tony M, 8k

Summary: M'Baku was approached by Princess Shuri who had an unusual request. Agreeing to it, M'Baku found soon out that he set things into motion, he'd never have dreamed of.

But what can he do when souls are bound to be together. Also, no one is safe from a meddling Princess Shuri.

[lilyevanstan1325]

✨ Astral Lovers ✨

Chapter 3

"Hi, I'm Steve"

It is as if the sound of the waves crashing on the shoreline and the sound of the grass blowing in the wind have merged to give life to this angelic voice.

God, can four simple words completely upset a person?

Can a voice be so sweet to the human ear?

I notice the seconds spent in absolute silence, as if we were in the middle of nowhere.

As if we weren't surrounded by thousands of people who, unaware, whiz past us without noticing the state of pure grace that I am experiencing.

He continues to smile at me, he seems almost amused by my disorientation, and patiently awaits my first move.

I can't help but stare at him like a moron.

That I have already seen him elsewhere?

How can my subconscious give life to such a wonderful man?

I read somewhere that every face you dream belongs to someone that we know or even just someone who has crossed our life for a few seconds.

Maybe a magazine, a film or a painting...

He is so beautiful to take my breath away and I am sure that if I had already caught his eye, even if only for a few seconds, I would never have been able to forget him.

After a few more moments where we both don't know what to do, he is the one to speak first.

He watches me from above, his size is frightening and he is so tall that I have to tilt my head back to be able to look him in the eye.

"You know...a little further on there is a really nice and quiet bar.Would you like to keep me company for a drink?" he sais.

At that invitation my jaw almost touches the ground, surprised that such a handsome man wants my company, only to then remind me that this is my dream and it is more than obvious that he really wants me.

So recovering a minimum of dignity I come out with a miserable "Sure, I'd really like it!"

We walk for a few minutes, in silence.

When we turned the corner I decided to talk but he stops and opens a double glasses door, behind which a wonderful bar is hidden.

Steve holds the door open for me and with a sweet smile invites me to come in.

So I thank him with a nod of my head and I timidly set foot inside the bar.

The first thing I notice are the colors, black and gold is the masters.

The counter is in black ebony, along its entire perimeter is adorned with small neon lights.

The top is black and shiny enriched by a thousand golden veins.

We sit on the stools positioned right in front of them.

They are made of metal, black too.

They are comfortable and soft.

For a moment I let my gaze wander.

The place is really calm.

Customers are not many, thanks to the fact that it is a normal Tuesday night, and the environment is calm and relaxing.

A sweet melody fills the air and I realize that in a corner there is an old gramophone from which a relaxing and melancholy sound comes out, it looks like a melody from the 40s.

I am distracted from my thoughts by a movement to my right.

Steve is taking off his leather jacket and at that moment I wonder how I have not dwelled on his body in the slightest.

If his face is the apotheosis of perfection, baby blue eyes and blond hair like honey, I believe that to describe his body there are no suitable words.

He wears a white t-shirt, the text stretched to the maximum due to his wonderful muscles.

The pectorals pressing against the thin fabric as he raises and flexes his arms to take off the jacket.

The movement causes the shirt to lift slightly, leaving a clear view of his lower abs, where that wonderful V is formed and it dives into his pants.

He wears simple black trousers that rest in an almost scandalous way on his hips.

My gaze falls on his thighs, wrapped to perfection by the black fabric that seems to tend to the limit with every movement.

I immediately return to his eyes and he is there staring at me.

Did he realize I was staring at him?

Staring...

I was more undressing him with my eyes but I try not to show it.

Although I'm sure my dilated pupils and my burning cheeks betray me enough.

Damn!

He smiles at me and turns to the bartender to try to get his attention.

I'm sure he did it on purpose, to give me time to recover and to give me the time to recompose myself.

We both order a beer.

We have a few sips and he's the first to speak again.

He turns completely in my direction, leaning his left elbow on the counter and with the opposite hand he brings a handful of peanuts to his mouth.

Perfect red lips part and his pink tongue flickers out to lick his fingertips.

My mind disconnects, all I can think right now is his mouth and his tongue.

His mouth and his tongue on my body.

His hands on my body.

Not on the first date at least.

For God sake this is my dream!

I should get up and invite this beefcake into the bathroom and then ask him to fuck the shit out of me...even though I get the impression he wouldn't...

He seems to be a good guy, an old school man.

Jesus even my subconscious is sad, boring and pathetic!

I realize to late that Steve is talking, so I try to dig into my brain to try to understand what he is asking me but I fail miserably.

Therefore with a pathetic tone of apology I say "Sorry Steve, you said?I got distracted for a moment"

"It's ok, don't worry.I was just wondering where you were from.I don't think I've ever seen you around here.I think I would remember such a beautiful girl" he sais with a disarming simplicity.

I can't help but blush again like a stupid fifteen-year-old but I try to give myself an attitude and I try to respond with a minimum of confidence.

"No, I don't live here" I tell him, "I live in Brookville, Indiana and I'm in New York because I've always wanted to visit it.It's a magical place".

"Tell me something about yourself. What do you do in life?" Steve asks me with real interest, his eyes fixed on mine as if by doing so he can absorb every single nuance of my words.

"I currently work in a bar"

He smiles.

"But I want to act.It's been my dream since childhood.I graduated from the Bachelor of Fine Art in Theater Arts in Brookville.I tried to do some audition but there aren't many opportunities where I live.I know it sounds stupid but..."

"A dream is never stupid!" Steve interrupts me.

I smile politely.

"The solution would be to move to some big city"

I smile again and continue.

"But I...I can't..." and my smile fade.

"You can't?Is there someone at home that you can't leave?" Steve asks and I could swear I saw him blush.

I smile slyly.

"Would that be a nice way to ask me if I have a boyfriend?"

God have mercy on me if I didn't just notice his cheeks taking on a deeper shade of pink again.

He's adorable.

"Maybe?"

We look into each other's eyes, black and blue merging, and we burst out laughing at the same time - a genuine laugh - one that warms your heart and that I haven't felt in a long time.

Watching him laugh is a balm for the soul.

When the last echo of our laughter fades into the air we both turn to our beers.

With my fingers I collect the drops of condensation that have formed on the glass while Steve takes a generous sip of his beer.

"I have no one waiting for me, no one"

Out of the corner of my eye I see Steve turn around suddenly and I realize that I have given voice to my thoughts without realizing it.

I close my eyes,basically it's true.

Who is waiting for me at home?

I have no friends.

I don't have a boyfriend.

I have no one who loves me.

I squeeze my eyes tight, I feel the tears pressing but I don't want to cry.

I don't want to ruin this beautiful dream with my stupid tears.

I open my eyes, his face it's close to mine, more than I expected.

I feel Steve move by my side, now our elbows almost touch and in an almost imperceptible whisper he says to me "I'm sorry if I did or said something that may have upset you.It wasn't my intention.Sorry"

"You didn't do anything Steve, don't worry"

And so saying, in a completely spontaneous way, I put my hand on his muscular forearm.

What happens next is destabilizing.

My heart begins to beat at an uncontrollable pace and it is as if a pure electrical discharge has passed through me.

I'm not the only one to have felt all of this.

I can tell from Steve's dilated pupils.

How his forearm stiffened under my hand.

His breathing quickened.

His eyes are fixed on mine as if to tell me You feel it too, I'm not crazy right?

I jump up and in a faint voice I whisper "Forgive me...I...I need the bathroom.Excuse me"

He has to clear his throat twice before he can answer me with a simple "Sure, go ahead"

I run to the bathroom as if my life depended on it.

As soon as I reach the door I immediately go to one of the three sinks present and opening the cold water I try to recover by wetting my neck and face.

But suddenly I start to feel weird.

My legs are shaking and I start to sweat.

A lot.

I try to stand up but I can't.

With my hands I look for the wall behind me and I lean against it with my back.

Slowly my legs give way and I find myself sitting on the cold bathroom floor.

Shortness of breath.

My head spinning.

A deafening noise pierces the silence.

That blue glow again.

And then nothing...

Please share, comment and rate ❤️

🔥 Masterlist 🔥

Taglist

@deansapplepie

[wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart]

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

STEVE LOOKS AT HIS BIG EMPTY HOUSE AND THINKS FUCK IT

(ft. baby Steve and Hopper accidentally teaching El the word 'orgasm')

cw: child neglect, underage drinking, sexism, brief fatphobia, Italian (like 2 words)

plugging my steve playlist

At first, eating fast food every day sounds like a dream come true. His parents don't allow him to eat pizza - we don't want you to become fat, Stephen, what would the people think? - but when he finally breaks the double digits and they deem him old enough to stay home alone, the freezer is filled with frozen pizza. "You know how to get takeout, right?" his mother asks. Steve doesn't mention that he needs to get on his tippy-toes to reach the tall table with the phone and nods. And then he is alone.

Tommy Hagan says that he loves it when his parents aren't home. His brother wants to be left alone, and so he is sent upstairs and can watch as much tv as he wants, even the horror movies he isn't allowed to yet. Sometimes, when his brother invites friends over, he can even sneak a bit of alcohol. He loudly proclaims that alcohol is cool and fun and awesome, but one time, when Steve and Tommy are alone, he whispers that beer actually tastes really bad and makes him sleepy and that sometimes it gives him a tummy ache.

And it is somewhat exciting, at first. Having the entire house for himself. He can watch as much TV as he wants, even the scary movies his mom hates. (But at night, when he dreams of monsters and demons and blood, there is nobody there to reassure him that it isn't real). He can eat whatever he wants whenever he wants. (One night he puts all the pizza in the oven and plays a game against himself: eat as many slices as possible. The next day the teacher sends him home with a bellyache and he barely makes it into the bathroom before he is throwing up. He can't even look at pizza after that without feeling nauseous)

After that disaster he discovers the wonder that is takeout. (The table is so incredibly tall and every time he reaches for the phone there is a split second when his heart stops and he is sure that the phone will fall on the floor and break into a hundred pieces and he won't be able to hear it when his parents finally decide to call (they haven't had time yet, his father is a very busy man) and they will find out and they will hate him forever. But he always manages to catch it, so it's fine.)

Hawkins is a small town, which means that Steve's options are severely limited. His parents left him three pamphlets from different restaurants he can call. The first is Italian. Steve remembers heaving on the toilet and throws that one away. The second is a Diner. His stomach is already growling and reading has never come easy to him, so he calls without even reading the last one.

By the time his parents return, he knows the number of the diner by heart and is already on first-name basis with most of the staff. His favorite is Daisy. She always asks him how he is doing and sometimes she sneaks in sweets he didn't order.

He misses Daisy when his mother starts cooking again, and then he feels bad for missing her because his parents are finally home! He never really appreciated his mother's cooking until he had to go without. He has vague memories of refusing to eat his vegetables when he was small, but the feeling of eating something not greasy is so good he even takes seconds. His parents smile and he feels his heart fluttering in his chest. "See, he is already growing up", his father says, and Steve beams.

He wants to help in the kitchen, but his parents don't allow it. ("Only women belong in the kitchen", his father thunders. "You're just making a mess! For gods sake Stephen, leave me alone! Aren't you too old to keep running after your mummy?!", his mother complains.)

--

Steve isn't sure when exactly he decided that he didn't care. Maybe it was when he went to Carol's house and realized how empty his fridge is in comparison to hers. Maybe it was when he started exchanging his readymade supermarket sweets for other people's lunches, so he could at least have something that isn't prepackaged. Maybe it was when Daisy suddenly stopped going on the phone when he called the diner and the new worker (he doesn't know her name) got really annoyed with him when he wanted to talk about his day. (He is scared that he is the reason she is gone. That all the secret sweets and fries she would add to his order got her fired. But he doesn't know how to contact her, or even her last name, so he can never find out for sure)

All he knows is that one day he looks at the kitchen and knows he can't do frozen or canned meals anymore.

--

Steve goes to the living room and searches the huge bookshelf with narrowed eyes. (He once asked his father why they had so many books if neither he nor his parents like to read. He said that he should stop asking stupid questions.)

He chooses to see it as a good sign when he finds a cook book in the lowest shelf. The bookshelf is even taller than the telephone table, and if all the recipes were too high up he wouldn't be able to reach them even with a chair.

He makes for a noticeable picture, a tiny boy dragging around a huge book and an even bigger bag. (He had never gone to the supermarket before. When his parents go on a business trip they always leave him with enough food to last until their return, and when they are home food always seems to magically appear in the kitchen - or he assumes it is in the kitchen, he isn't allowed in there when mother is home. He thought grown-ups just magically knew what they needed to buy, but he took one look at the ingredients list and knew he would never be able to remember everything. When he sees a woman taking a shopping list out of her bag, his tiny mind is blown.)

Sometimes he can't reach a shelf. Then he stretches and glares until an adult notices and takes pity on him. They offer to help him with the book or with the bag but he refuses. Father says he is already a big boy, and big boys don't need help. It doesn't count when people just do it without asking. He would've been able to reach the flour all by himself if no one had interrupted him. Probably.

His first attempts in the kitchen are disastrous to say the least, and his respect for his mother only grows. One time his neighbors even call the firefighters. He was terrified when he heard the sirens nearing his house - was sure that his parents found out that he was messing in the kitchen even though they explicitly forbade it and that he was going to prison and that he would never walk free again. Luckily that didn't happen. He doesn't mention that part when he recounts it to Tommy and Carol the next day. And if he exaggerates the fire a bit, there is nobody there to dispute him (it's okay if it makes him look cool.)

(The firefighter asked where his parents were. He said they were on a business trip. Another one asked when they would be back. He answered in a week. The first said he should call his parents, and Steve explained that they didn't like to be bothered. The second one frowned, and Steve asked if he was in trouble, but he assured him that he wasn't. The first one said he should call them anyway, that they would want to know this, and so he did.

His father answers the third time he calls. He sounds annoyed - Steve can perfectly picture his angry frown - and so he explains that he didn't want to call him, he promises, but the firefighter said he should.

"What happened?" his father asked, still annoyed.

And Steve hesitates. His teacher says that lying is wrong, but when he was honest and told his mother he wishes they were home more often she said that he should stop being so selfish, that it's not a good look, that it's ugly. So he doesn't say that he accidentally charred another chicken (the book said that if it is even a little bit raw it can make you sick and being sick isn't fun when you don't have anyone to take care of you) and forgot to turn off the oven. He knows his parents don't want him in the kitchen. They will probably feel like they should come home early, and of course they won't because father's work is important, but they will feel bad while they are gone and Steve doesn't want his parents to feel bad. So he starts talking about his day, hoping to be able to come up with something by the time he gets to the part where he has to explain the fire. Luckily his father doesn't have time to listen to his ramblings and hangs up before that.)

The next day Steve goes to the supermarket, the trip already a part of his daily routine (this time with a list, like a real grown-up), and tries again. He learns what fancy words like "bardare" or "irrorare" mean and that you need to preheat the oven before you use it. He still messes up, but it's okay.

After all, he's got a lot of time to learn.

--

Steve is glad that he wasn't the only one.

And he feels horrible when he thinks that. These fucking monsters are terrifying, he was sure he was going to die more than once. (He still can't believe that he didn't).

But if he had to go through all of this alone, he wouldn't be having a We All Survived An Attack By Monsters From Another Dimension/Will Byers Is Back/The Weird Supergirl Needs Friends/Isn't The Sheer Amount Of NDAs We Needed To Sign Literally Insane/Just Like What The Fuck In General-Dinner right now. He feels a bit like an outsider - which is ridiculous considering his literal girlfriend is also a part of it (or at least he hopes she still considers him her significant other). But he has nothing better to do and he doesn't want to worry Nancy, so he compromises with himself and brings food as a sort of apology.

(he isn't sure what he is apologizing for)

He arrives early to help set up the table, and Joyce places his dish right in the center.

The first one to taste it is Hopper. Steve doesn't blink when Hopper guides the fork to his mouth and he doesn't breathe when he starts chewing. For a moment it seems like time stopped flowing (he is eerily reminded of the first time he saw that monster, the demo-monster-whatever. The realization that the world is so much scarier than he originally thought). Then, Hopper's eyes widen. He makes a sound that would not be out of place in a bedroom. The kids (and isn't it awful that they are so fucking young they are like half his age they shouldn't have to deal with this) stare at him in varying degrees of disgust.

"Holy fuck Joyce, I think I just had an orgasm. I would literally sell my fucking kidney for this lasagna."

The kids look as if Hopper had stripped down and started pole dancing on the table. Nancy's little brother makes an unimpressed "ew." Supergirl imitates him, although she doesn't look too sure about why she is doing that. Steve can't help the small smile forcing itself on his face.

"Oh no", Joyce says, "it's Steve who brought the lasagna". The entire rest of the table stares at him (as if he was the one who has fucking mind powers and okay maybe he isn't over everything like he tried to convince himself he is) and he can feel his cheeks reddening.

--

(Later, the kids give him a self-made "I survived a Demogorgon and all I got was this stupid apron"-apron. He wears it every time he goes into the kitchen)

Unexpected talent #1: cooking

[soulgazingwithbucky]

protect, ch. 1 (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: You've spent your whole life protecting your younger brother, until an invitation from Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes turns everything on its head.

Warnings: mentions of parent death, swearing, mentions of food, mentions of blood

Word count: 5k

A/N: this is another short series y'all, probably only gonna be two or three parts! also realized this could also work as a mom!reader fic too...if anyone would be interested i would be more than happy to post a different version. divider credits to @lesbiacebian!!!

Masterlist: {one} | {two} | {three}

You used to find it difficult to grasp that you were the painfully mortal older sister of an enhanced individual.

Even when your mother stomped off school grounds with you two in tow, having received word that your five-year-old brother displayed an impossible amount of strength against an older bully.

Even when your tween brother returned early from his first hunting trip, his best friend’s dad barely able to sputter praise at his near-professional level of expertise.

Even when he was accused of sneaking into the teacher’s lounge to get test answers, only to find out he had overheard the answer key…from three rooms over.

For better or for worse, it finally clicked when your nineteen-year-old brother proudly arrived home, one hand on his hip, the other shoving a recruitment letter from Captain America and the Winter Soldier in your face.

You weren’t stupid. You knew what this was. Steve Rogers passed his shield to Sam Wilson. Clint Barton was seen running around New York with a young archer. And you can’t forget when you turned on the TV to see the Hulk’s cousin, her emerald skin glowing from the bright camera flashes.

You’d be damned if your brother became some brooding stranger’s ticket to retirement.

But Tomas would be damned if you stopped him from working alongside his heroes. He was absolutely starstruck, having looked up to the captain’s predecessor his whole life. He would consume stories about Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, wondering who would be his right hand man in life.

So, you planned to do what anyone would in your shoes: go up to these buff-ass, tough-as-nails men who've seen war and tell them there was no way they would even get to touch a hair on your brother’s head. After all, it was now your job to keep him safe, lest you be eternally haunted by your mother’s ghost for forsaking her youngest child.

So when Tomas leaves for his daily martial arts practice, you march your ass on over to these alleged “mighty heroes” to give them a piece of your mind.

“I’m sorry. I’m not sure I understand what’s going on here.”

Sam Wilson has no choice but to be completely honest with you. He sits across from you, arms across his chest, shifting in his seat. His partner, Bucky Barnes, sits silently beside him. This entire time, the only change in his expression has been the slight squint of his eyes as he assesses you.

“I said no.” You cross your arms over your own chest, tilting your head and raising your eyebrows.

You say it with so much confidence that the captain almost hesitates to continue questioning you. But he presses on, anyway, asking, “To…?”

“You both seem perfectly capable of fighting evil on your own,” you say, making a show of raking your eyes over the both of them. You tap your fingers along your bicep, tongue poking the inside of your cheek. “Not sure why you need children to do your dirty work for you.”

Bucky has already decided that you irritate him. His patience is running thin, and your grating voice and superior attitude are only serving to make it worse. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out at this point, but the older hero chides, “Sorry–who are you?”

Though his display of hostility is less outright than yours, you still easily pick up on the insulting tone and judging stare. You give him your name, inflecting as much scorn into your voice as possible. They recognize Tomas’s shared surname right away, and you don’t miss the knowing glance they exchange.

“Listen, I understand your concern–,” Sam begins, but you quickly raise a hand to stop him. His eyebrows furrow at your abrupt response.

“Don’t get too excited to lecture me, Captain,” you inform him with a scowl. “I’m not one of those senators you have to bend over backwards for.”

Bucky grits his teeth, reading your ploy to get under their skin like a book. Sam Wilson’s first notable moment as Captain America was him standing up to politicians. Who bends over for whom, again?

The hero formerly known as Falcon has had his fair share of difficult conversations. In fact, he’s impressed at your stubborn determination, but he knows better than to tell you that. But he can feel his partner seething beside him, and Sam speaks up before Bucky gets a chance.

“He won’t be out on assignments with us for a long, long time. We’re just hoping to give him guidance, given his abilities,” Sam continues his attempt to explain their perspective.

You scoff. “He has enough guidance, thank you.”

It’s true. You pushed your grief aside to keep your brother’s life stable. You dropped out of university to work full-time, determined to continue your mother’s goal of cultivating his skills. Martial arts training, gymnastics teams, and language tutors were not cheap. Even if you didn’t fully agree with your mom’s vision of developing Tomas’s talents, you’d be damned if you let all of her efforts go to waste. In your own way, it was the only way your grief could manifest: continuing your mom’s version of parenthood, even if all you wanted to do was hide him away from the horrors of the world.

“Guidance from the right people, though?” Bucky says. You’re ready to snap at the perceived jab at your guardianship, but Sam’s hesitant expression makes you think Bucky’s question has a different motive.

Your smart-mouthed reply melts away, replaced with, “What does that mean?”

“Bucky–”

“No, you know what, she should know, Sam.”

“Know what?” you demand.

The heroes hear the vitriol, but they don’t see it. Your arms have dropped and you’re now leaned forward, eyebrows raising rather than scowling. Sam’s eyes flit between the both of you, trying to make the most informed decision in the next five seconds. Finally, he sighs with the slightest shake of his head.

“Trust us, we had no plans to bring Tomas into any of this,” Sam begins carefully, evenly. “But we received word that he was on a lot of radars.”

“Radars,” you huff. You’re not sure what’s worse: that you don’t know what he’s talking about, or that you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“Your brother’s skill set is valuable,” Sam continues. He leans forward, resting his clasped hands on the table. “In the right hands, he could help a lotta people. And in the wrong hands, he could hurt even more.”

Lips pressed into a hard line, you say, “And which are you?”

Bucky’s response earns an astonished look from both you and his partner.

“Come find out.”

And so you find yourself at a training facility, your posture as stiff as the bench you’re sitting on as Tomas warms up on the punching bag. Beside him, Bucky absentmindedly throws punches at a speed bag, the object swiveling into a blur as its assailant mutters to Sam under his breath.

“Hot in here, no?” Tomas says, cutting off the heroes’ conversation. Sam furrows his eyebrows at the comment, but shakes his head in response.

“Oh right, it’s just the steam coming off my sister’s head,” he says, shooting you a cheeky grin.

You mockingly laugh before Sam tells him they should get started. You watch as the three make their way to the boxing ring, where they take your brother through a series of drills. Tomas is eager as ever to show his skills off to them, landing punches and kicks on Sam’s mitts with a huge smile. 

You stand abruptly when you think Bucky is aiming a punch at Tomas’s face.

“Hey! He’s just a kid!” you shout from the bench.

Tomas throws his hands up in frustration, but turns to show you his clearly unmarked face.

“I’m nineteen,” he tells his newfound coaches.

Bucky sighs at the way Tomas’s chest puffs slightly. “Elbows down, kid.”

Later, Bucky comes over to you–well, more like his duffel bag, which sits discarded on the floor beside you. He rifles through it, pulling out a new pair of hand wraps. He fiddles with the fabric, leaning against the water cooler. The awkward silence is pervasive as you both watch Sam run agility drills with your brother.

“He’s good,” Bucky says.

“I know,” you reply curtly, making a note to tell Tomas to stop hyperextending his elbow.

You both allow the silence to fall once again, amused by the way Sam rubs his temple when Tomas throws yet another unnecessary flip into a fight combination.

“You could be putting a bigger target on his back, doing all this,” you say.

“Could be,” he echoes. “But whoever’s coming for him won’t stop. Better to have backup.”

“Captain America is backup?”

Bucky cracks a smile, watching as Sam breaks and sets off on a lecture on why a back handspring doesn’t make a jab stronger.

“Something like that.”

And so you find yourself sitting next to Tomas, absorbing every one of Sam’s words. In front of you, an entire pile of Tomas’s…recruiters sit in a chaotic pile. Foreign government entities, underground crime organizations, maybe a fucking alien spaceship or something? You try to memorize every name, every detail, but they’re all blurring together. On top of that, you’re in a completely unfamiliar location. The meeting space could barely be considered an office, and you wonder how anyone could feel comfortable in the barren sterility.

When you shake yourself out of your thoughts, you’re surprised to find a glass of water waiting for you. You glance at Tomas, then at Sam, who are completely engrossed in their conversation. You look at Bucky, who meets your eye for a second before quickly turning his attention to Sam.

Swallowing a shaky breath, you bring the cup to your lips.

“So what do we do?” you finally say, eyes laser focused on the ripples in the water, thrumming your nervous fingers along the glass. You’re not even sure what they’ve been talking about. 

“We focus on what we can control,” Sam says firmly. “We can’t make them forget about your brother, or turn their attention to something else.”

Sam turns to your brother, aiming his next words at him.

“We can focus on making sure your mind and body are strong. Stick to our training sessions, and it’d be a good idea to set up some counseling, too. You can do it with me, if you want.”

Tomas scoffs at Sam’s earnest gaze.

“You guys, I’ve been training my whole life. I’ll be fine. Shouldn’t we be hunting them down, anyway? Making sure they can’t hurt other people?”

At this point, your voice should be breaching stadium crowd levels, chiding your younger brother for his foolish determination. Instead, you can’t focus on anything else but the panicked thoughts swimming in your brain. No matter how powerful your brother was, you never relinquished your self-appointed role as his protector. You would practically bark at anyone who even looked at him in the wrong way, even as he grew older, bigger, taller. No one was safe if you felt your kid brother was in danger–not the geometry teacher, not his first boss, and definitely not that sophomore that called him an orphan in front of you.

But how could you stop a powerful crime boss? A cruel dictator? An otherworldly being with abilities beyond your comprehension? They would kill you without a second thought, wiping your blood off of their boots before stepping over your body to get to Tomas. 

“You’re doing it,” you find yourself saying. At this point, you’re gripping the cup tightly with both hands, the tips of your fingers paling from the sheer force you’re exerting.

“What?!” Tomas cries, exasperated you’re not on his side.

“You’re doing it,” you repeat. “Chrissake, Tomas, these are heroes who have saved the world. You’d think they would know a thing or two.”

Tomas huffs at you, crossing his arms defiantly across his chest. It kills you, bringing you back to moments in childhood where he would be told no to a shiny toy, or moments in adolescence where you told him he couldn’t stay out late. How small those moments feel now.

Your brother looks around the table, realizing he’s outnumbered. He mumbles his reluctant agreement as Bucky silently takes the cup from your vice grip. Feeling returns to your fingers, radiating throughout your body as you feel the slightest bit of relief. You’ll accept it, for now–you know it won’t last.

And so you find yourself straightening your back, trying to elongate your posture to match the two men in front of you.

“Absolutely not!” you tell them.

“Sis–,” Tomas begins, and you snap your hand up to quiet him.

“You’re training with Bucky nearly every damn day, and Sam, you’ve got him at your stupid therapy sessions–which you weren’t even in favor of, Tomas, need I remind you–this is so unnecessary–”

You slam your fork onto your plate, appetite gone.

“They’re not stupid,” mutters Sam, glancing at Bucky, who gives him an assuring shake of his head.

“He’s never been on a plane before,” you continue. “He’s barely even left the state–”

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” Sam insists. “I’ve never even seen Kamar-Taj before–”

“So what, my brother should feel so lucky?”

“I kinda do,” Tomas pipes up.

“Shut it,” you and Bucky pipe up. You shoot him a glare, and Bucky uses your theatrics as an opportunity to get a word in.

“He needs this,” he insists.

“And you know what’s best for him?” you spit, slamming your palms on the table and standing up.

“Apparently,” Bucky shoots back, lifting himself out of his seat. All your prior glowers have merely been practice for the look you give Bucky now. He seems completely unphased, meeting your eyes with an unnervingly calm stare. You’re ready to give him a piece of your mind, index finger pointed accusingly in his direction, but Tomas cuts in.

“I’m going,” he says. You laugh in disbelief, but he repeats himself in a tone you’ve never heard from him before.

“I’m going, sis,” he repeats sharply.

“And you don’t get to speak for me,” he continues, rising abruptly. “None of you do. None of you are my parents.

“And you never will be.”

Tomas’s final sentence hangs in the air. His face falters for a brief second, but he quickly regains his composure, stiffening up before stomping off to his room. You and the two heroes seem frozen until the door slams. Sam recovers first, shaking his head and glancing at the both of you with his eyebrows raised in sympathy, before heading in Tomas’s direction.

You and Bucky let the silence continue. It feels like the echo of Tomas’s slammed door is still bouncing within the walls of your mind. You step away from Bucky, turning your back to him.

“Hey–”

You flinch, though Bucky’s voice is barely a whisper. He reels at your fearful response.

“No. No,” you say, almost automatically, though you’re not sure exactly what you’re saying no to. Your hand is gripping the back of the couch, and Bucky thinks you’re about to inadvertently break off your own fingers. He wants to reach forward, peel your hand off, and shake some sense into you. Instead, he does the opposite, creating more distance between you and sinking back into the dining room chair.

“I was always in there,” he starts. He keeps his voice low. It sounds like gravel in your ears.

“I remember everything. I tried to stop. Every day for ninety years. I begged my body to listen, but it was like I was in the backseat. You know, even if your possessions burn up, even if the clothes off your back melt away, even if everyone you love leaves, you’ll always have you. But I didn’t even have me. It took nearly a century and almost killing my best friend to come back.”

He looks up at you, eyes searing with pain. 

“I look in the mirror, and I gotta be honest, sometimes I don’t know who it is staring back. So who was it that came back? And at what cost?”

He rips his gaze away from you, burning holes into his metal arm.

“I couldn’t stop my body. Because I didn’t have my mind.”

“Bucky–”

"Let him go to Kamar-Taj. Don’t take away that chance from him. The world doesn’t need another…me.”

You take a deep breath.

When Sam eventually coaxes Tomas out of his room, he’s surprised to hear lighthearted quips. Tomas looks sheepish, trying to shrink himself behind Sam.

You’re speaking to Bucky: “So I’m guessing this elusive Camatidge–”

“Kamar-Taj,” Bucky interrupts.

“–Kamar-Taj doesn’t have wifi? You can only communicate with some sort of spell?”

The relic looks to Sam, hoping to tap him in for the modern technology question.

“I actually hear their wifi is crazy fast,” Sam chuckles.

While Bucky and Sam step out to call Dr. Strange and confirm their attendance, you focus on tidying up the kitchen. Tomas joins you, rinsing grime off of the dishes so you can load them into the dishwasher.

“Mom will never be you,” he finally says. “In the same way that you’ll never be her. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He chuckles as he watches the water run down a plate. “You’re both insufferable in your own special ways.”

You shake your head, meeting his mirth with a laugh of your own.

“It’s true–imagine if I got mad at you for leaving the house without ironing your shirt,” you chuckle.

“Or imagine if Mom yelled at my lit teacher because I got a B instead of a B+,” he retorts.

“It’s not your fault he had a personal vendetta against the Oxford comma,” you say. “...She would be proud of us, wouldn’t she?”

He passes you a mug. He knows you better than he knows anyone, which means he fully understands that your choice to continue his training was for Mom, not for him or you. He sees the way you wince when his capoiera opponent lands a strike, how you’re instantly on your feet when he doesn’t land quite right off of the parallel bars. He’s grateful, knowing the alternative would be doing nothing at all, but he wonders how much you allow your mom’s perceived influence to affect your decisions.

“I think she would want us to be proud of ourselves, sis. That’s all she ever wanted.”

You stop to stare at your brother. Though the bar’s low, that is the wisest thing he has ever said. You take him in, his tall figure, his lean muscles, the nose that was always a dead giveaway that you two were related. For once, you don’t see the little kid in overalls with melted popsicle on his shirt. You don’t see a scraggly teen looking at you in disbelief as you hunch over a “How To Shave 101” YouTube video together. You see a powerful, strong man who has more ambition in his pinky finger than most people have in their whole bodies, who wants nothing more than to make the world a better place.

You and Tomas snap your heads towards the door, watching Captain America and the Winter Soldier re-enter your home.

“We’re all set,” Sam confirms. “Pack your bags, kid.”

You can feel Tomas’s excitement radiating beside you. He looks ready to take off before he realizes he has a sponge and bowl in his hands. You nod at him and he drops the items in the sink, running to his room and inadvertently splashing you with soapy water on the way.

Bucky takes his place, rinsing off the dish before handing it to you. Sam follows Tomas once more, realizing your brother probably doesn’t even know what to pack.

“You were wrong,” you say as he hands you the final piece of cutlery.

“Here we go,” he muses as he rinses off the sponge, completely unaware that your next words would take his breath away.

“The world could use a lot more of you.”

And so you find yourself biting the edge of your thumb, trying your best to focus on the book you had selected from your shelf without much thought. It was an ill attempt to escape from the reality that your brother was in a foreign country, in the hands of two people you had just met a couple of months prior.

“Stupid retreat,” you muttered, flipping the page as though you had any idea what you just read.

You pick up your phone for the umpteenth time in the past twenty-four hours Tomas has been gone. It’s like you’re stuck in time, picking up your phone with the same hope of a notification, then feeling bitter disappointment when it’s only your bare lock screen. A few minutes of fruitless distraction later, and you lift your phone again, restarting the cycle.

The stupid novel is doing a terrible job at distracting you, so you think of Sam and Bucky’s advice. They’ve said it an infinite amount of times at this point, but it can’t seem to get through your thick skull.

Tomas is an adult, not a child. You can’t keep him sheltered, protected for the rest of his life. You can’t keep him from all the evils of the world, even if he was just a normal kid. The best way to protect him is to equip him with those tools and skills instead of expecting him to rely on you.

It’s great advice. Wise words, definitely. Just a lot easier in theory than in execution.

“Fuck!” you hiss, your nervous nibbling finally drawing blood. You quickly rush to clean and dress your thumb in the bathroom. You freeze. Is that–?

Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.

You run like you’re in the Olympics, damn near throwing yourself over the back of the couch to grab your device before the call goes to voicemail.

“Tomas! How is it? Did you get there okay?”

“It’s…Bucky,” he says. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Bucky,” you say, massaging your temples. “No, no, thanks for calling. How was the trip?”

“Great. Couldn’t have gone smoother. I tried to wrangle the kid to make this call, but he’s stupefied by the people making sparkles with their fingers.”

You find yourself laughing. “No, okay, that’s good. I’m glad he’s having fun.” You press your lips together, wondering if you believe yourself. “But if my brother comes back through a portal, Barnes, I’m coming to you first.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles. You express your gratitude at his call and give your salutations.

Though you’re met with silence once again, it doesn’t hang as heavy.

And so you find yourself staring at the door. You sure as hell weren’t expecting company. With all the magic and supernatural in the world, maybe someone psychically divined that you really wanted a bowl of soup delivered to your doorstep. The past few days without Tomas have left you sleepless, and reprieve in the form of a comfort meal would be all too perfect.

Gingerly, you approach the door. Despite your hopes, you also acknowledge that the presence on the other side of your door could be dangerous. Fortunately, the brand new Stark security system can tell you who awaits beyond the wooden frame.

From the camera, Bucky adjusts the backpack clinging to his shoulder, waving a gloved hand at your camera. He’s back a few days early…without Sam or Tomas.

You fling the door open, and Bucky raises a hand to quell you before you’ve even started. You’ve never been on the receiving end of that before.

“He’s okay. I had to come back early to handle something.”

You stare at his muscular frame in your doorway. “Is that something me?” you question with a tilt of your head.

He furrows his eyebrows at your statement, then realizes the implication of his words.

“Oh, no–,” he begins, then pauses. “Just a quick check-in. Figured you were probably anxious and, I don’t know, rearranging the furniture for the seventh time.” He peeks over your shoulder jokingly, but you move to block him. His attempt at a jab was actually the truth, and you didn’t need him to know the dining table made a new home along the opposite wall.

You scratch your neck. “Even if it’s your mug I have to see,” you tell him, “I could use the company.” You step aside, beckoning him in.

He hesitates, and your eyes widen. He was expecting to make sure you were okay before retreating to his home across town.

You stammer, “Oh–sorry–you probably have places–”

“No–”

“–hero stuff–”

“I was just–”

“–shouldn’t have assumed–”

“Move,” he damn near barks. “Mug’s here to stay.”

You sit in silence for most of the night, save for your questions about Tomas, sitting on opposite ends of the couch and watching a silly slapstick comedy film. Though you can count on one hand how many words you speak to each other, you can’t deny the feeling of relief that washes over you.

In the morning, you wake up to sunlight filtering in from your living room window. You’re wrapped in a throw blanket, and you can feel the impressions your couch has left on your face. You’re groggy, and kind of confused.

But damn if that wasn’t the best sleep you’ve gotten all week.

As you pick up your phone to type out a mesasge, you wonder if it would be so bad to see if he could join you again.

Heyyy

Stop. Erase that now.

Free tonight?

What are you, a frat boy? Be serious.

I really appreciated you stopping by last night. I was wondering–

Is that bile rising in your throat? You would rather be the frat boy. You stare at the blinking cursor before opting to press the telephone icon in the corner instead.

“Hey,” you greet.

“Hi.”

“I, um–”

“I was actually in the area. You hungry?”

Your teeth find your bottom lip.

“Starved.”

You and Bucky are hunched over the dining room table, picking at the array of food he has brought over. You’re not sure if he’s aware that he bought so much food that you can barely see the color of your dining table, but you don’t mind. You hum as you bring the cup of chicken noodle soup to your lips.

Eventually, you’re stuffed, and Bucky huffs in amusement.

“What?” you say, leaning back in the chair.

“You both do the same thing,” he comments, drawing a circle over his own face with his finger. “When you’re full.”

Your eyebrows flick upward in amusement before you absentmindedly start replacing the lids on the takeout containers. He tries to help, but you smack his hand away. Bucky scoffs, but relents, leaning back with his arms comfortably resting across his torso.

“So he’s doing okay?” you say.

This is probably the third time you’ve asked, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind.

“More than okay,” he says. “Fantastic.”

“That’s good. You all haven’t suffocated him like I have.”

He lets out a long exhale.

“You’re just trying to protect him.”

Your nervous fingers trace the edge of the table, having lidded every container on the table.

“So you don’t disagree.”

There it is. That squint again, like he’s coming to conclusions about you that will forever be a mystery.

“I hope…,” he starts off slowly, “wherever my sister is…she has someone like you. The big sibling I couldn’t be.”

Your eyes widen at the confession.

“Dining table looks awful over here, by the way.”

And so Bucky has made your couch a temporary home for a few days, at your timid request. He has no issue honoring it, more than happy to keep you company. He's through ruining people's lives, but he realizes his and Sam's presence has only seemed to make things more difficult for you. He has been anxious knowing you were anxious, and staying over helps him just as much as it helps you. Though it does cause concern for your little brother, who is surprised to throw the door open and see Bucky stationed at the stove.

If Sam feels the same shock, he is much better at hiding it. He simply throws his bag at his feet as he settles on the couch with a plop, complaining, “Kid fell asleep on me for both flights.”

“Both?” Bucky humors him, shuffling a spatula underneath an egg.

“That’s, like, twenty hours each, man. Couldn’t even watch Cars in peace.”

“Your shoulder is surprisingly comfy.” Tomas can’t miss a chance to get a quip in, though he’s busy scanning the apartment you share. He approaches the couch, grabbing the throw blanket that he’s sure used to be buried in the back of the linen closet. Sam glares at him, feeling the tug underneath his bum. “You’d think with all those lateral raises you do…”

“I’m glad you think so,” Sam says wryly.

Come to think of it, isn’t that the pillow from your room that’s now under Sam’s elbow? Tomas reaches for it–is that a strand of Bucky’s hair that he’s seeing? Sam shoots daggers at the man invading his personal space yet again.

“Tomas, can I help you?” the hero demands, turning around to deliver yet another glower to the younger man.

“Did I hear twenty hours?” you say, stepping out of your room. “Tomas, do we need to make a doctor’s appointment?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve never felt better in my life,” Tomas responds, eyeing Bucky. He looks real cozy, setting four plates of breakfast down on the dining table. “Thanks…Bucky.”

“Yeah, thanks…Bucky,” you echo slowly as Tomas's perplexed eyes turn to you.

Over breakfast, your barrage of questions about Kamar-Taj finally quells the possibilities floating around Tomas's mind. He tells you about Dr. Strange and Wong, the mindfulness training he engaged in, the sorcerer trainings he observed, what his room looked like, how Sam snuck out one night to find pizza, how irksome airport security is, Kamar-Taj’s extensive library, how Bucky wouldn’t help him get the girl in 14C’s number, the protection spell Dr. Strange cast on him…

You let him go on, even when everyone’s plate is clear of food and the feelings of over-satiation subside. When he concludes his recollection with a deep breath of air, you reach over to grab his hand.

“I’m glad you had fun,” you say.

And you mean it.

Masterlist: {one} | {two} | {three}

A/N: next chapter takes a sharp turn ngl lol. excited for you to read it, thanks for reading!!

[questionablequeeries]

You Looking At Me Looking At You by Ozzy Osbourne

Steve wished he could run away, be normal again, just…exist. Instead, he was crawling through a gate, falling onto a stained mattress as the mood ring clinked against the chain on his neck. Honestly, he and Dustin had both pretty openly and loudly fought against using the trailergate, but it really was the most logical one they could get to, safer than watergate, farther from Vecna’s house than Creelgate (he’d wanted to call it douchebaggate and was once again vetoed) with a softer landing than Roadgate. He couldn’t help thinking back to when Eddie pointed out that slapping ‘demo’ onto everything lacked any semblance of creativity and found himself agreeing that maybe they just didn’t have it.

“It’s gone!” Dustin’s loud voice broke through the quiet, running towards…ah, shit.

“Henderson! Dustin, wait!” Steve ran after the kid, but he couldn’t help staring, “Where is he?” He whispered, looking around as if anyone else would have answers.

“Some demobeast probably, well, ate him.” Nancy offered her own suggestion, looking surprisingly green and guilty upon opening her mouth, “It doesn’t matter. We need to go.”

Robin, ever the more comforting, reached out and took Steve’s hand silently, giving it a squeeze and breathing a sigh of relief when she got one in return.

Steve forced his stoicism to take the place of his anger, that Eddie’s final resting place had been so violated. He wanted to scream, rage, start smashing tentacles, but he…couldn’t? His flashlight caught movement in the trees as they walked from the Creel house to the lab (apparently even Vecna wasn’t dumb enough to make his base of operations an easily accessed old house. All it had taken was the death of his everything), and he felt his throat close up, “Um, guys?”

“Shit, that’s a lot of ‘em.” Mike looked to Eleven for a brief moment before shifting his gaze back up to the dozens and dozens of demobats perched on branches, so keenly aware of them, “El? Think you can beat them?”

Eleven slowly nodded, though she hesitated, “They seem to be waiting for something.” She sounded uncertain.

“Vecna?” Nancy clutched her shotgun a little tighter, definitely on edge when both Eleven and Will shook their heads.

Steve couldn’t help letting out a choked cry when the sound of massive leather wings preceded a creature landing in front of them, letting loose with a screech that caused most of them to clutch their ears. Eddie was different, angry, more animal than man, but he couldn’t help breaking formation, running for him, ignoring the cries of ‘Steve!’ As much as he’d ignored his own misery for months, “Is that…Eds, is that you?” He whispered hopefully.

Eddie tilted his head, glowing eyes peering intently at Steve as if he couldn’t decide whether or not he was food. He solved that answer by lunging forward, throwing them both to the ground.

“Eds…c’mon, this isn’t you.” Steve winced at the claws digging into his throat, looking up at the other straddling him and making a sign for everyone else to stay back. This was his fight, dammit. He reached up with a shaking hand and tucked a greasy lock of hair behind an elongated ear, “V-Very metal-looking.” He hissed as fingers clawed deeper into flesh, his free hand moving to hold the mood ring just so gently.

Eddie caught sight of it, glittering by lightning flash, and he sat back as if he was confused. He shook his head, knocking his hair back into a curtain, and then he was gone, taking his bats with him.

Okay, Steve totally deserved the chewing out he got from pretty much everybody as his injuries were patched up but he honestly wasn’t even paying attention. Their mission was to kill Henry/Vecna/One but, as they resumed their march, he realized that he had a new mission. He was Sam, and he was sure as hell bringing his Frodo back from Mordor.

@steddie-week Follow along and read the other parts to this story here:

[thisisntmyrightera]

Some nights of June | Eddie Munson x Fem. Reader

Summary: Eddie is gone and he visit you in your dreams...or that's what you think.

Warning: Mention of Dead, mention of drepression.

Words: 2,473

All interaction is well received and appreciated. Thanks for read.

Final Part Here

______________________________________________

Life since Eddie left was not the same, one day Eddie said goodbye to you, said he would come back and asked you to promise that you would wait for him, but after the earthquake the only thing that came back with Dustin were his rings, those that little Henderson handed you over in tears telling you that Eddie would not come back, that day you locked yourself in your room, you cried and yelled a lot, your mother went to comfort you but it wasn't enough, your father told her to leave you alone so you could get out all the pain you had inside you but after two days without leaving your room other than to go to the bathroom they decided to almost force you to go out, realizing that almost the whole town had left, only those who could go to another place they had done it to begin their life, fortunately or unfortunately your house had not been affected and your family did not want to leave either, they had everything, they except you.

A few weeks later when you received your diploma at the Hawkins High School principal office and returned home without a ceremony or a nice dress to show off you realized that you had to start a life for yourself and continue with the plans you had made for a long time with Eddie, you called Robin and asked her for an opportunity to work with her and Steve on family video, maybe she accepted you out of pity or because she loved you too much and she knew you should clear your mind, so by the next monday you already had a job, one where you had to wear an ugly green vest and had to stock empty movie boxes and cater to annoying teenagers trying to rent ''Fast Times at Ridgemont High'' by lying that they were old enough.

The laughs with Robin and Steve were not lacking, there was always a joke or a fight that made you laugh, Steve wondering why he didn't even have a girlfriend who really love him and Robin talking about how great Vickie was, you were in the middle of the two, You had someone you loved but he was not with you. From time to time the memories hurt you, when the horror movies where returned, the ones you saw in Eddie's trailer until you fell asleep in his arms, you stared at the cover for long minutes until Steve noticed and offered to accommodate the boxes for you so you wouldn't mentally attack yourself.

Life was very unfair, you had never been interested in any boy and when Eddie Munson came into your life you thought that loving him would be something dangerous, he was the bad boy in town, the adults judged him and the young people feared him, but when he invited you to going out and you had to tell your parents that you were going to the movies with Eddie they didn't judge you, instead your dad gave you a short talk on how to deal with people looking at you or Eddie weirdly and how to ignore bad comments from those who were stupid enough to judge a boy they didn't know.

After that Eddie became your boyfriend, your mother, who never wanted to spend a single dollar on a haircut for herself or her daughters found an excuse that Eddie was home to trim the ends of his hair and give him better volume to his curls. Your little sister loved him so much, so much that Eddie couldn't have been so happy when she asked him to teach her how to play Dungeons and Dragons, that day they were both in the basement of your house screaming and laughing while the two played and created a character for the little 11 year old.

But one day all that disappeared, your family did not believe that Eddie had murdered Chrissy and they defended him from everyone even when the priest of the church expelled your mother for yelling at him that Eddie Munson was an excellent young man and he would never be able to do everything what they had invented just to judge him for some mistakes he had made just like everyone else.

Now, Steve Harrington was the one who took you home from work, usually the trips were in silence while the radio played on low volume and you looked out the window, sometimes Steve would try to clear your mind, he would ask if you had seen any new movie or he noticed that your haircut was new and it looked good on you but you only responded with small smiles or a short ''Yes'' or ''No'', when sleeping, everything was even more difficult, you were alone in your room, in silence, the walls seemed to fall on you and the bed became huge, many times Eddie entered through the window and if you were awake you talked for hours until you realized that it was about to dawn and you slept a little before going to school, when he found you asleep, he just entered quietly and lay down next to you to sleep hugging you, but now it had been 3 months since that hadn't happened, sometimes you hugged the pillow and other times you wore an Eddie shirt that you refused to wash so it wouldn't lose his scent.

On good nights you slept for hours, even sometimes you didn't hear the alarm because of how exhausted you were, Robin understood it and arranged your schedule so that you didn't have problems with your pay, but on bad nights you couldn't sleep, crying forced you to stay awake until your own tiredness forced you to sleep and when you finally managed it, nightmares woke you up. Your fast breathing and the sweat on your forehead was the only witness of what your mind made you see while you were supposed to rest, sometimes you dreamed of Eddie but you couldn't touch or hug him, he just stood looking at you, other times things they got worse, you saw him dead and although you hugged him and called him by his name he did not wake up, those dreams were the worst and they left marks under your reddish eyes combined with your dark circles that made you look more than tired and devastated, this made people look at you strangely, they couldn't understand how you still couldn't get over the death of Eddie, the town freaky, Chrissy's killer, the boy who sold drugs to students and drove drunk. Many people judged you for that, some even invented that you had been an accomplice of Eddie in murdering Chrissy and you could hear his murmurs when you walked down the street accompanied by looks that make you feel worst.

But life couldn't be more unfair, until one hot June night when you decided to leave your window open so that the cool night breeze could enter and so you could sleep a little better or at least without feeling the heat of the month, your bed alone It was covered by a light and fresh sheet that at the middle of the night your legs pushed to the edge of the bed, your arms hugged the pillow which you had turned a couple of times to rest on the cold side of the cloth, you could hear the top of the trees banging slowly against each other in the wind and a lonely cricket chirping in the distance, the moonlight barely illuminated your bed and some things that were on the dresser, like the perfume bottle and the gold-framed brush.

In your dream you could see Eddie, he was in your room and he was lying on your bed, as he used to do, with his body half reclined and his back against the headboard of your bed, this time he didn't move away, he looked at you smiling and He opened his arms to receive you and let you lie on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat, his arms around you and his hair brushing your face as you leaned on his shoulder and hid it in his neck, "I missed you" you told him and he answered you with a slight laugh that made his chest vibrate "I've always been here" he answered making you smile, you were happy even though you knew you were dreaming and just as you remembered that the dream ended and you opened your eyes, you were calm, in the same face down position, your eyes looked directly towards the side of the bed where you were supposed to be lying down, your silhouette was still on the sheets but you didn't move, instead you could perceive that aroma that you missed so much, cheap cologne and a bit tobacco, your arms around a figure, not as soft as your pillow and larger than normal, a light caress brushed your hair slowly and just as you woke up you went back to sleep. The next morning you woke up to your alarm clock, your head didn't hurt, your eyes weren't puffy, and you felt fine, better than you had in the last few months.

After taking a shower, eating some breakfast and waiting for Steve to pick you up you sat in the back of his car while Robin put on some eyeliner and they both talked about nonsense like Boobies and dates, but you were silent, this time you didn't laugh or pay attention to them, you didn't look out the window like every day, your gaze was focused on your shoes while you thought what had happened the night before, had you had a dream within another dream? Steve and Robin noticed this, but they didn't notice the marks under your eyes or your pale face, so they decided to let it slide, why not have a good day at work after all? And yes, it was, your mood was a little brighter, you served customers a little better, although some gave you the usual look ''The freaky's girlfriend'', that day you decided to walk home and on the road you cut a couple of flowers, then you go to the remains of what was once Eddie's trailer and leave the flowers outside what was once the front door, you used to do this once a month but this time you decided to go for thank him for appearing in your dream "I miss you" you murmured to the wind before turning around and walking home with moist eyes from remembering the moments you had spent in that place.

That night the same sensation of the previous night returned, you had not dreamed of Eddie but you could feel it close to you, when your eyes reopened in the middle of the night you could see the red numbers that glowed on your watch on the nightstand, 3:54 AM, again you were lying on your stomach, hugging what it seemed to be your pillow, your body was not on the right side of the bed as you used to sleep, but the left side was again the place where you woke up, but you made no effort to get up, you just settled your head on that surface somewhat firm and cold that made you feel comfortable on that hot summer night, in the morning you felt rested again and better than the day before.

So the nights passed, some you woke up, others you didn't but always both sides of your bed were messy, as if two bodies had slept in it, just like when Eddie slept with you, one night, on Friday night you had a nightmare, again Eddie was in front of you, his body was covered in blood in the clothes you last saw him in, his Hellfire shirt ripped and his face was pale with his eyes wide open, you screamed as hard as you could and woke up with your heart beating fast and your breath shaken, your hands pressed hard the fabric that was between them, very thick and different from your fresh sheets, your body felt tight between something strong that made you feel safe. "Eddie" you murmured barely feeling that aroma again that reminded you of "I'm here" you heard his voice, this time not as a murmur in your dreams or as part of the wind, you heard it close to you making you sigh relieved , a cold and at the same time comforting sensation ran through your back until it reached your hair, taking your head slowly to lay it down again, you went back to sleep again and the next morning the same story of the last days was repeated, your unsettled bed, the feeling of tranquility and this time a dirt on the floor of your room that went from the window to the bed, as if traces of dust had been left by some prowler.

After thinking about it for a few minutes, you called Robin, fortunately it was still early and you found her at home telling her that you felt a little sick and if it was not an inconvenience you decided to stay in bed, she accepted without problem, anyway she had Steve and both of them could get the job done, but you lied, you put on your comfortable clothes, took your bike and go to the Henderson's house fast as you can, just threw your vehicle on the garden of the house and walked quickly to the front door knocking loudly until a still sleepy Dustin opened the door rubbing his eyes questioning what you were doing so early at home if you should be at work "We need to talk" you entered quickly following the boy to his room which was messy, after desperately talking to him trying to sound clear and hoping that the boy will not judge you he just looked at you with a face of astonishment as he sat on his bed "I told him not to go out" was the only thing Dustin said as he covered his frustrated face, ''What?'' the kiddo did not judge you? as he seemed to be knowing what you were saying if it was clearly an incoherence, Eddie could not be alive and much less walking around around Hawkins but Dustin did not judge you for dreaming about him, on the contrary it seemed that he knew perfectly well what was happening, a few seconds passed when his hands lowered and after looking a little more at the carpet he looked at you and sighed deeply "It's time for you to know the truth, let's go for Munson"

[missvelvetsstuff]

Where You Goin, Star?

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader meets Bucky when the truck hauling her show horses breaks down as she is trying to leave for an event and he works for the mechanic. Passionate, secret love affair ensues. After a confrontation with her father, Bucky decides she deserves better than a poor biker like him and leaves town with his friends Steve and Sam. Three years later, reader is trapped in an abusive relationship and about to give up hope of things ever improving, when Bucky comes back.

Chapter 9

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff

John Walker was panicking, everything was falling apart so quickly and he didn't know what to do. He was supposed to keep Y/N around until they had a kid but that damn biker came back and ruined everything.

He shook his head, he always knew what to do. He was John fucking Walker, West Point graduate, decorated Army Captain, congressman on his way to the Oval office. He had a beautiful wife and her family fortunes. He was-. Interrupted by the doorbell- thank God she's here.

He answered the door to see the love of his life, Olivia.

Olivia was mad at first, when he married Y/N. But after a long talk he made her realize that it would be good for their relationship. Well, good for his career which was always the most important thing to him.

John had a plan when they got married, he would rule over Y/N. Beat her into submission so that she didn't question where the money was going. Her father on the other hand asked too many questions. She didn't even question her father's heart attack and it was easy enough to seduce Sharon, to convince her to give Alexander Pierce the injection that made his heart sieze and stop. False promises of being with her when Y/N was taken care of and 7 figure deposits in her Cayman account smoothed the way.

John Walker had it all under control until Bucky fucking Barnes waltzed back into town, making heart eyes at his wife. Even worse, his return seemed to light a spark in Y/N that John was sure he had snuffed out completely.

And now she had proof that Olivia's kid was also his. He should have known that Pierce had some dirt on him. He was panicking because he was sure that wasn't all the dirt that conniving old man had.

Olivia came into the penthouse "John, baby? Are you alright? What happened? You never call on Tuesdays, I had a hard time finding a sitter for Johnny.

How can I help?"

John smiled at Olivia, a real, loving smile, his wife never cared about his feelings or needs unless he was taking it out on her, and gave her a hug murmuring in her ear "You help just by being here. I love you so much, baby."

Olivia pulled back "What did that selfish bitch do? I don't know why you haven't gotten rid of her yet."

John kissed her "I'm so sorry baby but I won't be able to see you for awhile. Somehow that bitch has a DNA report, that proves Johnny is mine. If that gets out my career will be over.

Brock is taking care of her but I'll have to play the mourning husband and all eyes will be on me. When things blow over we will be able to be together for real, to get married and we will have the Pierce fortunes to take care of us."

He rubbed her almost flat belly "We should be together before our little girl gets here."

Olivia smiled "Whatever you need baby."

John smiled and wondered why his wife wasn't like that. Her father promised she would be the perfect, submissive wife. Olivia kneeled in front of him "Let me take some of that stress for you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Bucky got the call from Nick Fury his heart stopped. He ran to his bike and raced to the Pierce house, arriving when the paramedics did. He didn't remember jumping off his bike and bolting into the house right in front of them.

"Star! STAR! Where are-"

He stopped when he saw her on the couch, lifeless, an empty syringe and tourniquet on the coffee table in front of her.

"Nonononono, Star, please" he tried to shake her and gently slapped her face with no response. He turned to the paramedics with tears in his eyes, moving out of the way so they could help her.

The EMT looked at the syringe and shook his head, reaching for the narcan and injecting her. He recognized her and Bucky from the recent groundbreaking. "You're not her husband?"

Bucky shook his head "No just a friend. I think someone drugged her. A friend of mine got a call from one of her bodyguards but he must have left right after. Her husband is-"

The paramedic nodded "I know who he is." He looked at the syringe. "Don't touch that so it can be checked for fingerprints."

A police car pulled up a few moments later and the officers came inside to check things out. The EMT told them what he found when he arrived, pointing out the syringe. One of them put on some gloves and put the syringe and tourniquet in a bag after taking a couple of pictures.

Y/N groaned softly and tried to open her eyes. She tried to speak but only coughed. Bucky brought her some water. She looked at him "Jamie? I must have died but it's already better than being alive."

Bucky hugged her gently "It's real Star. You're alive and I'm here. How do you feel?"

She groaned "Like a truck hit me. Everything hurts."

The EMT looked her over "That's normal with an overdose. You should be more careful.

We need to take you to the hospital. Just because you're feeling better now doesn't mean you are out of the woods yet."

The EMT's loaded her into the ambulance and Bucky held her hand all the way to the hospital.

Once she had been thoroughly evaluated the attending physician decided to keep her overnight.

"Mrs Walker besides the overdose you are dehydrated, underweight and likely more but we have to wait for your blood tests to come back. You have extensive bruising on your neck, shoulders, backside and thighs. The gynecological exam found evidence of forced coitus, including vaginal and rectal tearing."

Star looked confused "Overdose? I don't remember...?" She trailed off.

"I see. Do you remember being raped?"

Star nodded

"You will need to file a police report and a records release with the hospital so we can give them the medical reports.

Your dinner should be here soon, I've ordered a bland diet for tonight. Eat and get some rest, I'll check on you in the morning."

After the doctor left two detectives came in, introducing themselves as Det Coulson and Det May. By the time she had gone over the events of the last few days, Star was exhausted.

When she woke up the next morning Bucky was sleeping in one of the chairs but he woke up when he heard her moving around.

Bucky told her his side of yesterday's events including the syringe he found on the coffee table.

She shook her head "I don't do needles. That's not mine."

Bucky nodded "I had a feeling. Do you think John would try to kill you?"

"There's no reason for him to- wait" she groaned holding her head "When I was cleaning out my father's office I found a key for a safe deposit box that had some papers of my dads. A DNA test from John's kid with his ex, Olivia. It was dated last year and she just had a kid.

I talked to Pepper Stark and she was going to help me. John must have been monitoring my texts because he had Brock take me to the penthouse after my lunch with her. It gets fuzzy after that."

She rested her head on Bucky's chest

"I found something else"

Bucky kissed the top of her head and hugged her close for the first time in 3 years. She smelled like vanilla and strawberries, like Heaven, like Home.

"What else did you find, doll?"

"An envelope with Star written on it. In your handwriting. And your grandmother's ring. Brock must have given it to my father." She felt herself choking up

"I'm sorry I doubted you" she couldn't hold back the sobs, gripping his shirt as he squeezed her. "I'm so sorry for all the things I said to you."

Bucky shook his head and shushed her "No, Star, it's not your fault, it's Brock and John. You didn't know. Where did you put everything? The ring?"

She giggled "I gave them to Pepper to keep safe. I didn't want to take any chances."

Bucky loved hearing her laugh a real laugh, the last 3 years had been torture, missing her. "That's my smart girl. They can stay there for right now, until we need them. Unfortunately I don't think John is going to back down when he finds out you survived. He has a lot to lose and we will do everything we can to make sure he loses all of it."

Star nodded, feeling happy and hopeful for the first time in years.

After she had breakfast the doctor showed up. He looked at her chart and gave her a quick once over. "How are you feeling, Mrs Walker?"

Star grimaced "Please call me Y/N or Ms Pierce if you must. I never wanted to be Mrs Walker and will be changing that as soon as possible."

The doctor nodded "Fine Ms Pierce. How do you feel?"

Star smiled softly "Honestly I still feel pretty bad, mostly achy all over with hot and cold chills, like with a high fever. Emotionally I'm better, much better."

"Those are typical symptoms of withdrawal. I'm guessing yesterday wasn't your first brush with opiates." He looked at her knowingly.

She looked down "No, I've been dependent on them for awhile but only pills from a doctor, I've never used needles or anything like that."

"I recommend you check into a rehab, there are some excellent ones locally."

She shook her head "Does it have to be inpatient? I just wanna go home."

"It can be done outpatient but with all the physical trauma you've had I'm concerned for your safety. Do you have somewhere safe that you can stay?"

Star shrugged "I'm not sure but I'm-"

Tony Stark interrupted her as he walked in the door with Pepper "You can stay with us. Stark tower is one of the most secure buildings in the city and I have a small suite near our penthouse that we use for important guests." He looked at her fondly "It's all yours for as long as you need."

Star smiled nervously "Tony, it's so kind of you to offer but I don't want to impose."

Tony scoffed "Impose? Are you kidding me? Pepper can't wait to have you with us. It'll make it easier to meet with doctors, attorneys and all that."

Bucky was beside himself "Thank you Tony but you realize we're a package deal, right?"

Tony rolled his eyes "Far be it from me to seperate you lovebirds after all this time apart. Luckily for all of us the living quarters are all soundproof."

Star felt her face heat up but she couldn't stop smiling.

@pattiemac1

Maybe her 30th birthday would be better than she anticipated.

Chapter 10

[nostxlgia18]

Bittersweet

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Pairing: Steve Rogers Wife! Reader

Summary: Steve realizes how bad he fucked up and decides to get his wife and baby back no matter what.

Warning: Bucky to the rescue, Slight Angst

Steve's POV

'Y/n pregnant'? Steve's only thoughts when she dropped the bomb were "I'm going to be a father?" and "I'm going to be a father?" He couldn't move a muscle due to the happiness and minor shock he was experiencing. Slight murmuring jolted him out of his stupor; whatever the case, he needed to speak it over with Y/n, so he made a note. He saw Y/n talking to Bucky as he walked out of the bathroom and began walking towards them, asking Bucky to give them a minute. Bucky was going to walk out the door when Y/n stopped him and told Indirectly old him to be left alone then stomped out of the room.

Bucky stopped Steve as he was about to follow her "I believe she needs some alone time. Let's give her some space, shall we?" he stated Steve couldn't agree with him more; he knew he'd screwed up big time this time.

"Why don't we go downstairs and have a beer? " Bucky suggested it, and when Steve nodded, he flashed a small smile. They began walking downstairs when Steve overheard Loki and Y/n conversing and immediately came to a halt. He was the one who made Y/n laugh that way when she felt down, yet today he was the reason for those tears. 

He resumed his journey to the kitchen after hearing the front door close, signalling that they had left to grab a bite.

Steve and Bucky sat at the table, each holding a beer, in silence until Steve blurted, "I messed up Buck!" with his hands on his face. "I'm not sure what got you here, but you were a jerk to her at dinner today," Bucky remarked. "I know! After seeing this, I couldn't keep my rage in check." Steve showed the photograph to Bucky. "Steve, this simply isn't true, Y/n will never do this to you," Bucky said after examining it. " You two are so in love, man, you should trust her!" he exclaimed.

Steve told him everything that had happened, including all he had noticed about Loki. "Listen, Steve, Y/n and Loki are simply friends, and it's true that she was planning a party for you. She lied to you about going out with her sister because she wanted it to be a surprise. In fact, one of the reasons for this dinner today was her trying to tell a few people about the party, and she successfully managed to tell Tony, me and Nats". 

"You should've talked to her before jumping to conclusions, and Sharon? Did you seriously compare her to Sharon?  She had to work really hard to get you to go on missions with Sharon, don't you think? Consider the level of trust she has in you, and then consider what you did. Because an unknown number sent you a hazy photo, you agreed that she was cheating on you? Seriously, Steve, you'll have to work your ass off to get her back. Allow her some time to think and relax. I'm sure she'll return to the tower and be safe" Bucky went over everything with Steve.

Steve felt terrible for being so naïve; Y/n is pregnant, and he must ensure that she and the baby are both safe! He made a mental point to do whatever he can to get her back, no matter what it takes. Steve got out his phone and texted Loki, saying,

"Hey man, Please make sure Y/n gets plenty to eat. I'm sure she won't return here today, so take her anywhere she wants to go and make sure she's safe. I know I screwed up big time; also, please let me know where she'll be staying so I can pay her a visit tomorrow and get our perfect marriage back on track. I genuinely appreciate you standing by her side when her jerk of a husband was a jerk to her"

His mind wandered back to the unknown phone after texting Loki; 'who must've sent him that picture?' he wondered.

Bucky grabbed Steve's phone and snapped a photo of the number "Okay, I'll figure out who this is. Meanwhile, wait for Loki to tell you where she will be, give her a visit tomorrow, and make sure you don't return without her; go get the girl, my boy!" Bucky gave Steve advice and patted his shoulder, which made both him and Steve chuckle. "To Y/n!" they said as they sipped their drink. 

MEANWHILE

Loki read Steve's message and returned his gaze to Y/n, who was eating her Mac n Cheese but her mind was elsewhere, as he could tell. He knew how much Y/n loved Steve, and the last thing he wanted for his closest friend was for them to be separated, he quickly responded to Steve's text, 

"I'll take her back to the tower, man. Don't worry, she'll be safe with me because I'll guard her with my life. I'm hoping you guys can sort this out; she's already been through a lot. She doesn't deserve all of this."

"Who are you texting, huh? Is there someone special?" Y/n grinned. "My therapist, yes. Asked her to get ready for a night of her life" Loki sneered. "Loki, you're so filthy! I'll be in the room next to you, and I'm hoping to get some rest" Y/n sassed. Loki frowned and said, "What is your dirty mind thinking Y/n; I have problems to discuss with her." 

"Sure, right at practically midnight!" Loki laughed as Y/n grinned and she stood up.

Masterlist

Taglist: @shyconversationalbookworm @justreadingthatsit @rogersdrysdalebarber @sleutherclaw @sophiaedits @kalopsia-flaneur @thedancingnerdmermaid @foxchild-v @blossomedfloweroflove @jessyballet @aubageddon91 @witchychanel @the-soot-sprite @delicatecapnerd @darkjellyfishcoffee @ragamuffin285

Reblogs are appreciated 🥂

[mypoisonedvine]

vignettes of a bond || alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader

I originally wrote this in two parts for my sleepover but after I realized how long it accidentally became, I've reformatted it, added/changed a few things, and made into a oneshot!

word count: 3.1k

warnings: smut, angst, knotting, violence

June 2nd, 1943, 11:43 p.m., James Barnes’ bedroom

“I wanna do it, before I go,” he whispered against your skin. “But I know it’s wrong. It’s too cruel.”

“No, please,” you whimpered, “I want it. I want your mark.”

Bucky pulled back for a moment and you examined your Alpha’s face carefully, knowing it might be the last time for a long time. “I couldn’t bond to you and then leave you. It wouldn’t be fair… you deserve to find somebody who can stay, and be with you, and protect you.”

“All I want is you,” you whispered. “Please, Alpha… bite me.”

You saw him hesitate for a moment before he leaned in and sucked at your neck, building the anticipation before he finally sunk his teeth into your skin and you cried out, one single tear rolling down your cheek. “Mine,” he growled against your skin as he lapped at the healing wound, “my Omega. Forever.”

“Yours, only yours,” you agreed eagerly.

It wasn’t the first time Bucky had taken you, but that night he really and truly claimed you, left you a desperate begging mess, stretched out over his knot as he filled you over and over.

The next morning, you were still sore between your legs as well as on your new mark, and it took everything in you to be strong as you saw him off at the train station, waving goodbye and praying that your Alpha would return to you soon.

November 9th, 1943, 2:24 p.m., undercover SHIELD facility

“You promised Bucky you’d take care of me,” you reminded him with a little smile, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“I know,” Steve relented, “but we both know I can’t do that. Not in this state. But maybe I can protect you if I do this. Maybe I can protect my country. I owe it to everyone, especially Bucky, to try.”

You nodded. “But I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too. Come see me before I ship out for good, alright?”

“Of course,” you agreed.

December 27th, 1943, 8:32 a.m., your front porch

“You’re lying,” you gasped as you shook your head. “You’re wrong, no, it’s not true.”

“It is,” Steve promised as tears welled in his eyes, “I’m so so sorry, I saw it myself, I had to watch him fall…”

“It’s not true! He’s not dead!”

“I know he loved you so much. He talked about every day, he couldn’t wait to come home to you,” Steve remembered, choking up noticeably. “But he won’t. He’s gone.”

“You don’t understand, I know, okay? I know.”

“You’re in shock, I understand, it’s hard to lose your mate—”

“You’re a beta, you wouldn’t understand,” you dismissed; sure, he looked like an alpha now, but it didn’t make a difference. “Omegas, we know when our Alpha dies, we feel it, it kills us. He’s far away, but he’s still there, I still feel him!”

Steve held you as you sobbed, your body crumpling into his arms. Sometimes you thought maybe he held you too tight on accident because he was still getting used to his new strength; other times you thought he did it on purpose.

February 3rd, 1944, 12:00 p.m., undercover SHIELD facility

“Even when I had nothing, I had Steve,” you recalled shakily, “and now he’s gone too.”

“Is that why you’re volunteering?” Agent Carter asked you. “Because you’d rather sleep for a hundred years than live without your mate and your best friend?”

“I’m volunteering because my mate and my best friend died for SHIELD,” you corrected firmly, “and if I’m not willing to also, then I’m admitting I think they went to waste.”

“Steve told me you didn’t think Bucky was dead,” Peggy remembered.

You winced. “I’m not sure. But I know he’s not coming home again. I came here to give whatever I could to help find him… I was asked to participate in a cryogenics research study. If it helps him, then I’ll do it.”

She was about to get up, apparently satisfied with your final interview, but you stopped her.

“On one condition,” you added. “If James Barnes is found, alive or dead, wake me up to see him.”

She nodded, stepping out of the room and leaving you alone again.

May 8th, 2012, SHIELD headquarters

“Can you hear me?”

You slowly blinked awake, your vision taking a moment to catch up with your mind. You saw tubes coming out of your arms; you saw Steve above you, looking like the day you saw him last.

“Did you find Bucky?” you asked instantly. Why else would they wake you up?

“No,” Steve answered, seemingly a bit disappointed that that was your first and only question.

“Then put me back to sleep,” you demanded.

“It’s been 68 years,” he told you. “You’ve slept for 68 years. It’s time to wake up.”

And you did, more than you ever wanted to, because you realized you couldn’t feel him anymore. Your Alpha was gone. Worse, he probably died while you were asleep; he probably died alone.

One more time, like he had 68 years ago, Steve held you while you sobbed.

August 1st, 2014, 2:11 a.m., Avengers compound, Steve Rogers’ quarters

You ran into Steve’s room barefoot and still in your pajamas, barreling through the door and right into his bed.

“Steve, I feel him!” you rushed.

“What?” he groaned sleepily, looking up at you as he blinked in confusion.

“I feel him again, he’s alive,” you explained. “I know it. He’s weak… he’s hurting… but he’s there.”

“That’s impossible,” Steve shook his head. “It’s been too long, he would’ve died of old age anyways.”

“Don’t you want to believe it? Don’t you want to think he’s out there?”

“Do I want to think he’s alone and I didn’t save him?” Steve hissed. “No, I can’t say that I particularly do!”

“But we still can, Steve, we just have to find h—”

But before you could finish, the feeling left you, and you were just half of something again.

“Oh,” you breathed.

“He’s gone again?” Steve realized.

You nodded, biting your lip as it started to quiver. He sighed and pulled you into a hug. “If I could just see his body, and know it was over,” you whispered, “if I could just bury him, have a funeral…”

“We’ll have one,” Steve decided, “after this mission. We’ll put him to rest. He deserves that, and so do you.”

You nodded into his shoulder. It shattered you into a million pieces but it was still the better option, to try to let him go in whatever small way you could. He would always, always, always be your Alpha, nothing could change that, but a funeral would at least bring some closure.

That would have to wait until after your next mission though… and it was going to be a big one: tracking the elusive Winter Soldier.

August 3rd, 2014, 1:14 p.m., Lower East side

You were a few blocks away, helping civilians escape the firefight, when you felt it.

For one impossibly brief moment, you felt him, stronger than you had in nearly 80 years. He was here.

You instantly got up and ran like you’d never run before, finding the Soldier and Steve locked in a brutal showdown— but his mask was gone now, and you nearly fell to your knees at the sight of him.

“Bucky!” you yelped, but you knew he wasn’t there or you would’ve felt his presence. Your Alpha was somewhere underneath the shell that wore his face, and you needed to find him.

You ran forward just as Steve made a break for it, getting to him just in time to stand between the Soldier and his mission.

“Alpha, please,” you whimpered, clutching at his chest. A metal hand backhanded you to the ground.

“Out of my way, Omega,” he growled, stepping over you, but you grabbed at his ankles even when he tried to kick you away.

“My mark,” you explained hastily, pulling your shirt down some to make sure it was visible. “It’s yours. Do you remember? You gave me this. This is your mark on me.”

He stared down at you, seeming to be contemplating it, and you scrambled back to your feet and faced him.

“I still feel you,” you whispered. “I knew you were alive, I knew you’d come back to me. I could feel you, right here,” you explained as you took his hand and placed it on your chest. “Could you feel me? Did you know I was waiting for you all this time?”

His eyes were watering but he still seemed confused— stunned, more specifically, as you placed your hand on his chest.

“I’ll always be yours, Bucky. I’ll always be your Omega, no matter where you are.”

A stun gun took you down, an array of masked men appeared, and before he could really see you for what you were, he was dragged away and taken to be erased again.

August 3rd, 2014, 9:04 p.m., Avengers compound, medical bay

“I can’t believe we let them get away,” Steve lamented, resting his face in his hands. “I can’t believe they took him again…”

“They’ll be back,” you promised sternly. “They’re going to figure out what I am to him. They’re going to realize I could break his programming. And they’re going to come for me.”

“And when they do?” Steve pressed.

“We’ll be ready. And I’ll get my Alpha back.”

August 3rd, 2014, 9:04 p.m., temporary HYDRA operations facility

"The woman on the bridge... the Omega..." Bucky mumbled. "She knew me... she had my mark."

"No she didn't."

He furrowed his brow. "She showed me..."

Pierce sighed, glancing over to the HYDRA scientist who looked back at him sternly.

"She's too dangerous to be left alive," the man sighed, shrugging in his lab coat. "We can't deprogram a bond like that."

"We'll take care of her," Pierce promised.

Bucky launched from the chair, snapping his restraints like paper. "Touch her and I'll fucking kill you!" he bellowed, tackling his handler to the ground.

Pierce just laughed as another scientist jabbed Bucky with a needle, dosing him with something strong enough to kill any other man but just enough to knock out a super soldier. Pierce stood up and dusted himself off as he watched Bucky go limp and be lifted back into his chair.

"I can see the fight in your eyes, Soldier," he taunted as he leaned into his face. "I know you really would kill me, if you could. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, right? But don't worry about your mate, we'll make it quick and painless. Hey, maybe beforehand me and a few of the other Alphas will show her a good time, poor thing's been without her mate for 70 years... I bet she's raring to go."

Bucky's arm twitched as his eyes started to fall shut, a tear falling down his blank and motionless face.

"Wipe him," Pierce instructed to the scientist, turning and walking away as the electric whirr of the machine charging up filled the room.

August 11th, 2014, 3:53 p.m., SHIELD headquarters

Steve was impressed with how accurate and imminent your prediction was; HYDRA was hot on your trail and desperate to eliminate the biggest threat to their Asset. Knowing they were coming made it easier, but it was still a brutal fight.

You and Steve tried to stay together, but they were smart, they used the perfect bait to lure you away.

"Tell me where he is," you demanded from the HYDRA agent as you held a blade to his neck, "then I'll kill you."

"Isn't it supposed to be 'or I'll kill you'?" he frowned.

You shook your head. "Not the way I operate."

Opposite to the reaction you were expecting, he grinned widely. "He's here."

Your heart stopped.

"On the roof. He's here to kill you."

You dropped the knife and ran straight for the stairwell, ascending them like they were nothing and calling out for your Alpha.

You found him there, waiting, gun trained on you. Raising your hands in surrender, you yelled to him again.

"Bucky," you called across the windy roof, eyes nearly blinded by the bright afternoon sun. "Alpha."

"I'm not who you think I am," he yelled back. "I'm not your Alpha."

It hurt to hear it in his voice, but you knew it wasn't him. Cautiously, you stepped closer. "Before you left, you told me you didn't want to mark me and leave me behind," you recalled. "But I wanted it. I wanted to be bonded to you more than I'd ever wanted anything."

He could clearly see you were coming closer, he even tightened his finger over the trigger of his weapon, but he was waiting. You kept walking to him, slowly.

"I've never regretted it," you continued, "not even when I thought you were dead, not even when I had to spent a lifetime-- more than that-- apart from you."

Finally you were face to face, and you stepped closer until his gun was pressed right into your chest.

"You can shoot me now and I still won't regret it," you promised. "I love you."

Shakily, he lowered his weapon. "Omega..." he breathed.

"Your Omega."

He pulled you into him and you sobbed as you felt him come to life in your arms-- the real him, your Alpha, your Bucky. He held you close and breathed against the top of your head and it was like a dream coming true decades after you'd forced yourself to let it go.

But you'd never given up. And now you had found him again.

Agents started to come onto the roof and Bucky spun the two of you around, firing with his right hand and using the left, metal arm as a shield for you.

He carried you and you didn't even know where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. In his arms, you were home.

August 12th, 1:03 a.m., Avengers compound, your quarters

You hadn't stopped coming or crying for at least an hour. Bucky had all but split you open on his knot all night and he didn't show any signs of stopping.

He apparently intended to make up for lost time. And you'd lost a lot of time.

"Just one more, I know you can give me one more," he groaned furiously rubbing your clit as his knot began to swell again.

You could give him anything, as long as he asked for it like that.

You'd lost count of how many times he'd told you to come for him, and how many times you did it immediately.

"I can see how full you are," he whispered as he rubbed your stomach gently. "So much seed in you that your body can't hold it all."

You looked down and yep, you were distinctly bloated from his come alone; it made you a little dizzy to even look at it.

"The idea of you alone during your heats, no one to protect you, it kills me," he explained with a growl. "I won't let you go again. I can't."

"Then don't," you sighed. "Never leave this bed, fill me with everything you have."

"Did anybody ever help you through them? The heats?" he asked. "I wouldn't blame you, they can be so painful... I just need to know so I can make sure you forget about them."

"No, Bucky, never— I never let anyone touch me."

"Steve could've helped you, at least some..."

"He wouldn't have, he loves you too much. And I wouldn't accept anything less than you, ever. You're my Alpha. We're bonded. There's never anyone else."

That didn't seem to satisfy him, his eyes darting away as he swallowed. Your gut sank with the realization he probably wasn't being totally honest about why he asked.

"Your ruts," you gasped. "Were you alone for all of them?"

He shut his lips tighter.

"Bucky, it's okay, just tell me. I was asleep for 70 years, I skipped most of them, but you... you had to live through them all."

"They gave me betas, and omegas," he mumbled, "but I don't... I don't really remember. I know they wanted me to. They threatened to hurt me if I didn't, because they knew I'd go crazy after so many ruts alone, but I can't remember if I really did it. I remember... I remember crying, and begging for you."

"Alpha," you breathed as you felt new tears run over the stains of your old ones. "It's okay. Whatever happened, it's okay now. We're together again. Everything's okay."

You wiped his tear away with your thumb, holding his face tightly, weaving your fingers into his long hair.

"I'll always be your Omega," you promised.

He leaned in closer to you, kissing your cheek before pulling back a little. "It's faded," he whispered as he ran his thumb over the mark on your neck. "The last time I saw it, it was still fresh."

"It's older, sure, but it's stronger than ever, Bucky."

August 14th, 10:12 a.m., Avengers compound, residential area kitchen

Steve's eyes went wide when he came into the kitchen for breakfast and found you there, steeping your tea. "Surprised to see you out of the love nest so soon," he smirked.

"It's been three days, I don't think that counts as soon," you scoffed.

"It does to him," Steve frowned. "He's asleep, isn't he?"

"Yep."

"I know he wouldn't let you out of his sights if he was conscious," Steve chuckled.

At that moment, you heard Bucky call your name and run out into the hall, only a bedsheet covering his groin as he appeared in the doorway. You spun around and smiled when you saw him come running towards you, embracing you with his free arm.

"You should've told me you were leaving, I got scared when I woke up without you," he admitted weakly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry!"

He pulled back and clutched your face in both his hands. "I'm waking up next to you every morning for the rest of my life, you understand?"

You nodded dutifully. "Yes, Alpha."

"One hand on the sheet, please, Buck?" Steve winced, looking away.

“Whoops,” Bucky groaned, reaching to cover himself as you laughed softly.

“Let’s go back to bed, baby,” you decided quietly, taking Bucky’s (free) hand in yours and waving goodbye to Steve, who was already making his way as far out of earshot as possible.

[black-mistress-of-evil]

Hey! Can I request a Bucky x Reader where Bucky gets hurt during a mission and the reader is there to take care of him? Maybe he’s caught of guard by this because he hasn’t had someone take care of him in a long time? Feel free to do whatever you want with this!! Thank you so much and I can’t wait to read it 💕

Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N Thanks so much for the request @thighs-of-betrayal-blog this was so fun to write! Sorry it took so long! I swear every time I get the motivation to write my life gets crazy. But here it is, hopefully it’s a little bit what you hoped for and if it isn’t I hope you enjoy it anyways haha 💜

Warnings: FLUFFY FLUFF; angst if you squint; very very brief canon level violence; a minute of mutually pining idiots

Word count: approx 2.3k

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (he uses the endearment “doll” but other than that reader is gender neutral)

Why Do You Care?

“Bucky stop being so stubborn and let me see!”

You were standing in the living room of the safe house Bucky had dragged you into, hands on your hips glaring down at the super soldier on the couch. He was avoiding your gaze, staring a hole in the wall to your left, and had his arms folded across his chest. He looked to you more like a pouting child than a 100+ year old ex-assassin/current Avenger and if you weren’t so frustrated with him you’d probably giggle at the sight.

The mission had been a success. Sort of. You and Bucky had been sent in to steal sensitive files from an abandoned Hydra base. Which you managed to do. But it ended up being less than abandoned and without any backup the fight out was a rough one. Just as the two of you were finally getting out, covered in blood and bruises, Bucky had grabbed your arm and shoved you into a crouch, bending himself over you protectively as a shot rang out. He grunted out in pain and you leaned around his frame to send a bullet straight into the skull of the Hydra agent who’d been stupid enough not to stay down. You’d tried, then, to make sure Bucky was okay but he wasted no time in hauling you back up and out into the night. His hand slipped down your arm to clasp yours and he didn’t let go until you were safely within the walls of the safe house. The more the two of you had run the more obvious it became that he was hurt but he ignored you asking about it.

Now that he’d made sure the safe house was secure and reported back to Steve what had happened and where you were, he couldn’t avoid you anymore. But he could ignore you and he was trying his damnedest to do so.

“M’fine.” He grumbled at you for probably the third time in as many minutes, shifting to turn his injured side away from you as if that would make you go away.

“Bucky I know you’re not fine so why won’t you just let me see so I can help?” The cuteness of his pout was wearing off as your patience was wearing thin. “Do you not trust me or something??”

Bucky’s eyes snapped up to yours then, his heart rate rising as he saw the concern there. He did trust you. More than he trusted himself most days. Hell he was in love with you. But you were way too good for him, too full of light, and you’d never be interested in someone like him. He’d only ruin you anyways. But when he looked into your eyes he couldn’t stand the flash of hurt he saw when you asked that question.

“Course I do doll...I trust ya...” his voice was hoarse and he tried taking a deep breath to clear his throat but it sent pain shooting through him and he groaned, pressing his hand to the still bleeding wound in his side.

“Buck....” your tone was softer now as you took a step closer. You thought for a second that he was going to let you check on his injury but the moment your hands reached for him he shot up, ignoring the pain, and pushed past you into the bathroom while mumbling about not needing help.

You roll your eyes and sigh as the bathroom door slams shut behind him. Ever since you’d met the quiet soldier when he joined the Avengers he’d swung back and forth between pushing you away and pulling you in closer. He always volunteered to be partnered with you and you worked well together but he’d refuse to spar with you. He liked helping you cook for team dinners but always declined your invitations to go out for lunch. During movie nights he only ever sat beside you or, if someone beat him there, he’d sit on the floor and lean against your legs even if there was an empty seat by someone else, but he wouldn’t join you when you were binge watching your favourite show alone. You couldn’t figure him out but the more you tried to the more you fell for him. It had been agony for you to want him knowing he could never see you as more than a teammate and friend. Regardless of how many times his behaviour had made it clear he wasn’t interested in you that way, you couldn’t help it. You loved him. And if that remained unrequited the rest of your life then so be it, you were that gone for him.

And so, despite his insistence that he didn’t need your help, you found yourself trailing after him towards the bathroom. You pressed your ear to the door and could hear him shuffling around, pulling out a first aid kit, and then gasping in obvious pain.

“Bucky? Open the door and let me in? Please? I want to help...I want to take care of you, you just have to let me....” you pause, waiting for a response, and notice that all the sounds on the other side of the door have ceased.

“Buck? Please, I care about you...let me...” your voice is lower, almost a whisper now, and you wait another few painfully silent seconds before hearing a long sigh from the other side of the door. When it cracks open, your eyes meet his piercingly blue ones and you nearly crumble at the uncertainty you see there.

“Can I come in, Buck?” You ask gently and he hesitates for only a second before nodding and opening the door wider. You step inside and motion for him to sit on the edge of the counter for you and he quickly obeys.

“You’re gonna have to take your shirt off for me to see, Buck.” You say gently, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. He grunts in acknowledgement and begins pulling his black tee up, hissing as he raises his arms causing a tug to his injury. Without a second thought, you reach forward and help maneuver his shirt the rest of the way off, dropping it to the side as he brings his arms back down. As other times in the past when you’ve seen him shirtless, you can’t help but let your eyes travel across his firm chest and toned abdomen, drinking him in until you raise your eyes to his and realize he’s watching you. You quickly avert your gaze, your ears burning at having been caught ogling him, so you miss the way his lips curl into a smirk. Focusing your attention onto his side you gasp at the large gash there still slowly leaking blood.

“Not that bad, doll.”

“James Buchanan Barnes! Just because its not life-threatening does not mean that it’s ‘not that bad’. Dammit Buck why wouldn’t you let me help you take care of this as soon as we got here?!” You huff as you grab some antibacterial cloths and begin cleaning the wound, ignoring his hiss as you do so.

“M’sorry, doll...it’s just...haven’t really had anyone take care of me in...well since before the war to be honest. Got used to taking care of myself...used to not having anyone care.” Bucky’s voice is barely a whisper and you have to strain to listen to him. He’s never been so vulnerable with you and you want to make the most of however long he’s going to let this moment last. When its clear he’s waiting for you to say something you reach one hand up to softly cup his cheek and turn him to face you.

“I care. I care so much, Buck. You just have to let me.” You try to put all your emotions into your gaze, desperate for him to see that he doesn’t have to be alone and that he is loved and cared about. He sighs and leans into your hand more, raising his own to rest on your hip.

“Why?”

He spoke so quietly you’re not sure you heard him and raise an eyebrow to ask him to repeat himself, too afraid of breaking the spell that seems to have fallen over the two of you to speak.

“Why do you care so much, doll? Why me? I’m not...I’m not worth it.”

This is it. The chance to tell him how you feel. If he rejects you that’s fine, you decide. Even if he doesn’t return your feelings at least he will know that he is loved and that’s enough for you right now. Your heart feels like it may burst as you weigh your response carefully.

“You, Bucky, are so worthy of all the care in the world. You went through hell and back a million times over and came out the other side a kind, thoughtful, sweet, considerate, gentle, loving man. The world tried to break all of that out of you but you are too strong and too GOOD. The world owes you and if I could wrap up all the love that exists in it and give it to you I would. But I’ve only got mine so that’s what I’ll give you.”

Dropping your hand from his face to his shoulder, you hold your breath as Bucky’s eyes stare into yours as though searching for something. He tightens his grip on your waist, before finally breaking the heavy silence, his voice at least an octave lower.

“You’ll....give me...your love...?” Bucky is the strongest man you know and yet you have never heard him sound so timid and unsure in all the time you’ve known him. He looks so hopeful and scared and you can’t help the confession bursting from your lips.

“Yes Bucky! I will. I already have. It’s yours. I-I love you.” You take a deep breath before continuing, rambling now. “And I don’t expect to you to return my feelings and I hope I haven’t ruined our friendship because that would just kill me nothing has to change between us I just needed you to know that—mmph—“

You’re cut off by Bucky’s lips connecting with yours, his hands cupping your face, thumbs rubbing gently across your cheekbones. The kiss is gentle, careful, almost tentative at first. But then your arms snake around his neck and one of his hands makes its way into your hair and it becomes passionate and desperate. Bucky pulls you between his thighs so you are flush against him and the feeling of his taut muscles against you makes you moan. Your hands lift to tangle in his hair and tug gently as he runs his tongue along your bottom lip, practically begging for entrance which you immediately grant. He growls into the kiss as he explores every inch of your mouth with his tongue, his hands roaming all across your body, pulling you impossibly closer as you arch into him needing to feel him. He stands suddenly, pushing you back a couple of steps until you are pinned between his body and the wall. You gasp for air and he moves his lips along your jaw, down your neck, and then back up to press another searing kiss against your lips before resting his forehead against yours as he tries to catch his own breath. Your chests rise and fall together and he rubs his nose against yours before placing another tender, gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Sorry....couldn’t help myself...” Bucky manages to tell you between gasps for air.

“Never apologize for THAT...” you giggle and the vibrations of his chuckle against your chest make you feel lightheaded as he leans back to look you in the eye, cupping your cheek tenderly.

“I love you.” He sounds sure. Confident. Like nothing in the world could be more true than that statement. You can’t help the ridiculously giddy grin that splits your face as you tug his face back to yours for another kiss, which he smiles into.

Once you come down from your highs a little bit you manage to coax him back to his spot on the counter and you continue cleaning his injury and stitching him up though it takes much longer now as Bucky keeps distracting you. He plants kisses to your nose, your shoulder, your neck, your cheek, your forearm, basically any part of you that comes close enough to his lips. When you finally finish, you let your hands run along his muscles as you rub your nose against his and kiss him deeply, gently biting his bottom lip eliciting a sound from him that turns your insides completely upside down.

Before you can say or do anything else, the front door opens with a crash and Bucky grabs you and shoves you behind him protectively as he peeks out into the front room to assess the threat.

“Dammit punk! What’re you breaking down the door for?! I thought you were a hostile! Why didn’t you just call and say you were here??!” You sigh in relief at Bucky’s nickname for Steve and move to peer over his shoulder at the Captain as the two super soldiers glare at each other.

“I’ve been calling for several minutes! You didn’t answer! I thought you were in danger, jerk!”

“Sorry, Steve! We were...distracted. Bucky needed stitches.” You quickly apologize and give an excuse in case Bucky isn’t comfortable saying anything yet since you hadn’t exactly taken the time to talk yet. But he just turns to face you and smirks as he tugs you to him for one more kiss before reaching around you to grab his shirt and pull it on.

“Ya. We were pretty damn distracted. Didn’t really appreciate the interruption, punk!” Bucky chuckles and can’t help the grin that has been plastered on his face since you told him you love him. Your cheeks flush as he puts an arm around your shoulder, guiding you to Steve who is looking between you and Bucky with a happy, almost proud, look on his face.

“It’s about damn time, you two! Now, who made the first move? I need to know if I owe Sam $50 or not.”

[lenissa]

(Not So) Obvious (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

masterlist

warnings: none

summary: Bucky almost gives up asking you the most important question of your life when you seem to just not get it.

word count: 1.5K

happy reading!

————

James Buchanan Barnes.

The man of your dreams. The man of your reality. Of your past, present and future. So how come you were so bad at recognizing his plans for a shared future?

It all started when you heard of the engagement of your friends Hope and Scott - Bucky was so happy for them… but the whole time the couple told him the story about how Scott asked Hope to marry him, he could only imagine your possible answer if he would ask you that question. He decided that he was ready for the next step. Were you though?

There was only one way to find out.

Well, or in your case: five.

Bucky, the old romantic he was, wanted everything to be perfect. So, when you returned from a mission that took longer than expected, he created a romantic candlelight dinner. Or at least that was what he was trying to.

After you got back, you went to have a shower real quick and then went to spend the evening with Bucky. You were really exhausted but you saw how excited your boyfriend was at you returning, so you kept it together and tried to not fall asleep on the table.

Tho when he noticed that you were leaning against your fork and your eyes were already close to sinking, he took your hand and looked at you with worried eyes. “Hey honey, are you okay?”

“Tired…that‘s all”, you mumbled and Bucky noticed your inability to keep your eyes open for more than ten seconds.

“Why don‘t we postpone that dinner to another evening?” Bucky sighed and squeezed your hand.

“You‘re not mad?”

“Of course I‘m not mad, you just came home from a long, exhausting mission. Now come on, I‘m gonna take you to bed.” He stood up and pulled you with him, and then put his arms around your shoulder to steady you.

“I could just marry you, man of my dreams.” You uttered tiredly under your breath.

Bucky gulped, the weight of the engagement ring in his jeans pocket doubled at the hint.

The next time he tried to ask you the question, he went for a special walk with you on a late autumn evening. It was perfect: september sun was shining, leaves started to change colours, and a fresh breeze was in the air.

When he took the corner that leads to the place you first met, an old kickboxing studio, he realized that he could discard his plans all over again.

“w-what? why?” You pouted at the now empty place where some of your favorite memories together were made.

He turned around at the sound of you sounding sad and smiled apologetically. “I‘m so sorry. I thought it was cute, I didn‘t know it got knocked down.”

You stepped forward and hugged him, leaning against his chest, and hummed faintly. “You couldn‘t know, darling. It was a cute idea.” You kissed him and the only thing he could think about was how you hopefully would kiss him much stormier if you knew the real reason for your walk to this place.

Bucky wouldn‘t give up though. He organized everything again for a special occasion: the 4th anniversary of your relationship.

He booked a luxury hotel a bit away from the town, so you two could relax and enjoy some time without agents or fellow Avengers buzzing around.

Bucky put your suitcases in the car, drove the first bit, and when you parked on a public layby, he was checking if he had the ring with him.

Yes, he had the ring, but he found something different too. Your car had a flat tyre.

Bucky got so angry that he dropped his coffee and kicked against the tyre when you came out of the bathroom and saw his tantrum. You hastily walked to him and tried to grab him by his shoulders, of no avail of course, but at least your touch seemed to calm him.

“What is it??” You put your hands on his cheeks, looking him deep in his eyes, scared to find a dark part of his personality shining through.

“Everything is going wrong.“

“That‘s not true. We both had coffee, and we listened to great music. We are both here together and we love each other. What do we want more?”

“A promise for the future.” He mumbled ununderstandable to you while melting in your touch.

“I love you, you grump.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, so close you could even hear his breathing calm down. You sighed in relief that he was better, though you still worried about his sudden change of mood.

“You would talk to me if there was something else?” You asked him with expectant eyes, trying to understand his behaviour. But he nodded and smiled, and assured you that he was okay.

Bucky was annoyed. And he lost his patience. And he wanted to be more obvious from now on.

So when he wore a T-shirt saying “Marry Me?” and you asked him if that was an old shirt of Scott, he almost got insane.

“No - uhm, actually it‘s mi-”

“Bucky!! Have you noticed that Redwing changed colours?” Peter walked in the living room of the compound, completely clueless that he interrupted a very important moment. “Oh! Nice shirt. Scott has the same, right?”

Bucky blushed and went back to his shy self. He couldn‘t ask you the question while wearing a shirt your friend had already worn some time ago.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He plopped onto the couch next to you and put his arms around you, for you to snuggle into him. “I probably mixed it up when I took down the wash.”

Your boyfriend began to ask himself if that all was some crazy sign from the universe. Maybe you two just were not meant to get married? So, he swore to himself that he will try one last time before giving up.

You were reading in your bedroom when you suddenly noticed an unevenness in the paper. Confused, you turned to the next page and found a small silver ring stuck.

Bucky was just returning from training with Steve as you grabbed the ring and touched it carefully. He saw that you found it and immediately stopped walking, red cheeks forming and his heartbeat faster than ever.

“Look Bucky, there was a ring in my book!”

He sighed and started walking to the bathroom again, closing the door with a loud noise. You didn‘t think too much about it, maybe he just had a not so nice training with Steve or got a new mission he didn‘t like.

Then, he finished showering, laid down on the bed next to you and you asked him if he wanted to watch a series. He nodded and you turned the tv on, grabbed some snacks and cuddled up with him.

When a episode of the sitcom played in which the main characters got engaged, he rolled his eyes and eyed you tensed. But you just sat there, eating popcorn and staring at the tv screen. The scene ended and Bucky knew he was done with the whole marrying thing.

Though suddenly, you jumped up at the engaged couple telling the story of their engagement to their families and spilled the whole popcorn. Bucky startled and looked at you worried, but you just fluttered your hands and stared at him.

“Oh. My. God.”

“What is it, honey??” He frowned and tried to come closer to you, but he had to get the snacks away from the bed first.

“Oh my god, James!” You laughed and started pacing around the whole room. “Of course, yes!”

He chuckled and got out of bed, walked to you and put his hands on your shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, you-” your expression faltered when you realized you were just guessing the reason for his behaviour lately, “I thought you were asking me to marry you?”

“What?!” His eyes widened and he took a step back. You cursed under your breath and turned away, closing your eyes in embarrassment. “This is weird. I thought all the trips and dinners were times you were trying to ask me to marry you but nevermind just forge-”

“Yeah, I uhm- I was.” He laughed nervously and rubbed his neck with his hand. “I thought you don‘t want to marry me cause you never seemed to get it and ignored even the obvious tries.”

You turned to him again and shook your head. “Oh god. This is so embarrassing. I just- i don‘t know…something clicked while watching", you gestured to the tv screen, "that. I never thought about your intentions too much, god, I‘m so sorry.”

Bucky stepped closer again and took your hands in his. “You‘re all good, babe.” You squeezed one of his hands and he pulled you closer, a smile on his face.

“So?”

“So?” You bit your lip to contain your smile as you looked lovingly into his blue eyes.

“Yes or No?”

“No if you‘re not asking me the full question now.” He gasped as you laughed and lightly pushed you.

He sunk to his knees and you gasped, hands coming up to cover your mouth. The brunette took the box (that he always carried around) with the ring in it out of his breast pocket and took a deep breath.

“Will you marry me, my love?”

————

Tagging: @bisexual-chupacabra @mrs-avenger3000 @musicinourlips @yeetus-thyself (please let me know if you wanna be tagged for specific characters only)

[angstysebfan]

The Past Can Break You - 3

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

AU: Avengers

Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for aa few years. As far as you’re concerned he is the one. But what happens when a blast from the actual past shows up?

A/N: Ive seen a lot stories of Bucky getting his first love from the 40′s back. And I’ve always wondered... what would happen if he was dating someone already? Reader is from this time. Not proofread.

Warning: 

--

Bucky tried for several hours to try and get you to open the door. You ignored him, not wanting to see him because you were so angry with him. He promised he would change and make more time for you, and then he leaves you in the middle of sex for her! Dot is his priority, as far as you’re concerned. You roll your eyes as you think about the “trauma” she had. You know she is using their past to manipulate him, and he is being stupid and letting her. Well now he must face the consequences for his actions. 

You stare up at the ceiling of your old room as you again, for the millionth time, hear the knock and pleads of your boyfriend from the other side of the door. “Please, baby. Open up. I’ll let you scream at me, you can even hit me. I know I deserve it. Just let me see you, please,” he begs.

God this is getting pathetic, you thought. You sigh and figure it’s time to give him an earful and some food for thought. You walk over to the door and unlock it, before opening it to reveal Bucky looking disheveled. He still has no shirt on, just his sweats from last night.

“What could you possibly want me to say to you, Bucky? You obviously made your choice in this. You are allowing Dot to manipulate you to keep you away from me. She wants you back, and it’s completely obvious. You say you want to prioritize me, but you prioritized her! I’ve tried to be calm and understanding to what she is going though, but enough is enough!” you yell, causing Bucky to flinch.

He opens his mouth to speak but you continue, “Ever since she found out that we are dating, she has made it her sole mission to separate us. Do you even care that your actions are killing me? Do you even care that I have cried myself to sleep so many times at night that I forgot how to fall asleep without crying? Do you even care that you are shattering my heart with your actions?!” you yell as tears fall down your face.

Bucky now has tears falling as well as he takes in your words. He didn’t realize just how bad he had made the situation. He needed to fix this. He couldn’t lose you. You were the best thing that has ever happened to him, and he can’t believe that has been so stupid. He walks up and wraps his arms around you, allowing you to cry in his chest. He buries his face in your neck and cries also.

You don’t know how long you have been standing in your doorway crying, but after some time you pull away. Bucky looks at you with sad eyes, “Tell me it’s not too late for me to fix this. I-I don’t want to lose you,” he says in a raspy voice.

You sigh and look down, “I think I need some time to think about things. You need to figure out where your priorities lie. I’ll stay in here for a bit until I’m ready and then we can talk, okay?” you ask.

It breaks your heart to see the distraught nature of Bucky’s face at your words, but you need him to understand how his actions have made you feel. He nods and quickly pulls you into a hug and then slots his lips on yours in a heated kiss. When you pull away he looks you dead in the eyes, “I’m going to make this right. I am going to show you that you, and you alone are what I want and need. That you are my top priority. I promise,” he says.

As he turns and walks away, you can’t help but say, “Don’t make promises you might not be able to keep.”

Bucky stops and looks at you sadly. He really messed up. He finally turns away and walks back to your shared room, that he will now live in alone. When he closes the door he slides down to the ground and openly sobs. How could he be so stupid. How could he not see what was happening. Now he might lose the love of his life because of his past. 

--

Dot is sitting in her room, feeling rather victorious. She overheard your argument with Bucky, and knows that now that you are separating yourself from Bucky, she will have a better chance to win him back. She sighs at the thought of having her love back with her. She was surprised that he didn’t take her back immediately, as she was his first love. Yes, ok so it was like 80 years ago, but I mean the fact that they were both together after all this time, must be fate.

Suddenly her door opens and shows the man she has been thinking about. Dot looks up and smiles, “Hey Jamie! What’s wrong?” she asks, deciding to pretend she is innocent and knows nothing. Always worked with guys. So easy.

“We need to talk, now,” Bucky says, anger evident in his voice. 

Dot’s smile disappears. She figured he would be upset, but not angry, and not at her. “What’s going on?” she asks with a furrow of her brow.

“This is over, Dot. Whatever you are trying to do, it’s done. I know you are dealing with a lot, but you need to start figuring it out for yourself. I am done putting you before Y/N,” he says.

Dot can’t help but roll your eyes. “Oh is she upset with you again Jamie? I mean I understand being slightly threatened by our past, but she obviously doesn’t trust you. If she can’t trust you, then she isn’t good enough for you. Maybe it’s time for you to cut your loses and return to me,” Dot said.

“She has every reason to be upset! I’ve neglected her! I just want to know... are those panic attacks that you have even real,” he asks.

Dot feigns being offended, “How dare you! Of course they are! Look at all I have gone through! I volunteer for something back in the 40′s and wake up in 2020′s. There is a lot of thoughts and feelings I feel and I don’t know how to process them! Is she saying I am lying?”

“I am saying you are lying. You always seem fine when we are together, but the moment I go to my girlfriend you start freaking out. You are trying to keep me away from her,” Bucky says, his voice raising.

“I feel comfortable with you, Jamie! I love you! Of course I feel better when you are near! It’s not my fault you tried to move on! But tell me this, if you don’t love me like you did, and you love her, why then did you constantly leave your girl for me? You obviously are still in love with me! So dump the girl and let’s be together!” Dot yelled.

“You’re crazy! Seriously you are delusional! You use me being a good friend and a gentleman against me to separate me from the woman that I truly love. Well it stops now! You need to get your ass in gear because it will take me nothing to turn you out of the compound to fend for yourself. If Steve and I can make it work, so can you. And your trauma is nothing compared to what we have gone through. So get yourself together and figure your life out. I am done playing these games with you!” Bucky says before leaving Dot’s room.

Dot sat there stunned at the last outburst. If Bucky thinks that she will go down without a fight to the death for him, then he doesn’t know her at all. Dot always gets what Dot wants. No matter the cost.

--

Bucky knocked on Natasha’s door, trying to calm himself down from his conversation with Dot. Nat opened the door and immediately tried to close it, “Nat please! I need your help,” Bucky begged.

She rolled her eyes and allowed him in. He sat there and told her everything about what happened last night, and this morning with Y/N and Dot. Natasha smacked him upside the head at least 4 times for being dumb. When he was done explaining everything he looked sadly at Natasha, “So will you help me? I have a plan that will allow Y/N the time she asked to think, while also showing her that she is my priority. She is the love of my life. Please?” Bucky begged.

Nat knew how much you and Bucky loved each other. She knew how happy you both were, so she agreed to help. Bucky laid out the plan to Nat and they both agreed to set it in motion. Bucky felt better already. He told off Dot, got your best friend to help him, and now all he needed was to win you back. He hoped he wasn’t too late.

--

Chapter 2 / Chapter 4

Dot is trouble! What plans does he have up her sleeve? Will the reader forgive Bucky? Does he deserve it? 🤷🏻‍♀️Feedback is appreciated!

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[roger-that-cap]

wildest dreams

witch!wanda x reincarnated!reader 

summary: wanda had walked around the earth for centuries with no magic and hardly any soul left after losing her soulmate. she thought that her lover would never return and that the only reunion they would have would be in the afterlife, but a run-in with bucky changes everything after he insists that he met the long gone y/n at a fountain in the park. 

yet another au by me... 

word count: around 6.5k?

imma tag one person bc she gets upset when she isn’t tagged- and idk if anyone else would actually be interested?

@teenwonder

also this picture is not mine, and the dividers are by @firefly-graphics !!

without further ado, it’s almost 6 in the morning but i give you this!!

She held you tight, fingers digging into your skin as she trembled above you. The rose bushes were rustling in the wind next to you both, the sweet smell of the flowers contrasting with the moment. You were halfway gone already, eyes far off but trying to swim back to the surface, wanting to look at her one last time before the inevitable happened. 

  “S…” you tried to say, but she hushed you immediately, tears falling down on your face and mixing with your own. You shook her head at her as hard as you could, begging for her to let you continue. “Say you’ll remember me,” you ground out, fingers tightening around her hand. 

  “What?” Wanda asked, voice already thick with grief as she tried to decide whether or not it was better to keep the knife lodged between your ribs inside of you.

“When I come back-” you cut yourself off by coughing up blood, and Wanda didn’t even wince when it splattered on her cheek. “Back for you, promise that you’ll remember me.” 

 “Darling,” Wanda whispered back, her voice cracking as she bent over and rested her head on your stomach for a moment, hiding her sob. She could feel her magic tingling inside of her; under her skin, in her bones, dancing on her fingertips. “I wish I knew- I wish I just knew how-”

  “Please.” You said, a desperate look in your eyes as you halted her words, already knowing what Wanda wanted. But natural magic was nothing to mess with. She sobbed again with her lips pressed together, no sound escaping her. You squeezed her hand tighter as the sun started on its routine descent, basking the two of you in an orange glow that you would have stopped to admire in any other moment in time. But Wanda would grow to hate that shade of orange with every breath in her. “Please.” It would always remind her of the sound of your begging, voice reaching for something that she couldn’t see. 

Maybe it was the desperation in your voice, or the way that she just knew that you were well within your last moments, because she looked up at you one last time. “Of course I’ll remember you, darling. I couldn’t even dream of forgetting you.” There was a wheezing sound that came from your chest as you cracked a bloody smile, and then you gave one last squeeze before you looked away from her, your soul settling in the afterlife. 

  Wanda Maximoff would never forget it. Suddenly, her previously  irrational fear of losing her magic became real, but that feeling didn’t even come close to the one she got when you grew lifeless in her arms. 

Ever since you knew what a normal person was supposed to be like, you had identified that you, in fact, were not the normal person that you were probably supposed to be. Normal people didn’t daydream to the point where it felt like their bodies weren’t in the present anymore. Normal people didn’t have birthmarks under their ribs that aced and burned. Normal people didn’t feel out of touch with their world, like they weren’t even meant to be in the century they were in. Normal people didn’t feel like they were searching for something tirelessly, something just under their noses. And normal people surely didn’t dream of the same set of hands, same pair of eyes, or the same voice over and over again, a new setting every time, but always the same, faceless person. You either drew the same faceless person or rose bushes, and every sketch book you ever had was full of them. 

At first, you were sure that you were going insane. Every time you closed your eyes, you would see a flash of reddish brown hair, or the same set of eyes, or the same pair of pale hands. You kept seeing this person without ever seeing a face for nights at a time before you went to see a therapist, who just ended up telling you that worrying about it was only going to make it worse, whatever it even was. But eventually, you learned to get used to it. 

Acceptance turned into expectancy. You went to sleep knowing that there was going to be a pair of hands accompanied by the same slender fingers as always before you, sometimes intertwined with your own. You knew that there was going to be a set of eyes on you, watching you intently with no ace to go with them. You knew that you would hear whispers of the same voice, speaking so clearly in a language you didn’t even come close to understanding, and soon, you were craving to see and hear those things. And wanting to see them led to something that you never told your therapist; drawings. 

You drew nearly every day under the sky, trying to find different park benches to see the sun rise and set at different angles for inspiration. You loved the sky, moon and stars alike, but there was something special about sunrises and sunsets. Sunrises and sets both meant new beginnings to you, out with the old and in with the new, and each rise and fall filled you with a strange feeling of nostalgia. You were watching the sunset on a park bench by yourself, a sketchbook sitting on your lap as you held an idle pencil, still thinking about the way you wanted to draw the hands. The birthmark between your ribs started to tingle, letting you know that it was about to burn again. That damn birthmark. You dropped the pencil and scratched at it, trying to beat the annoying feeling at its own game. You cursed the mark, but your eyes didn’t leave the sky, and you noticed your heart swelling in your chest, faint despair in the pits of it, churning around like the middle of the deep sea. 

 You shook your head and put your pencil in your hand again, brain not even having to work hard at all to see the features of the faceless person who was in your every dream. 

Even before she ever met you, Wanda didn’t sleep well. She would toss and turn for at least an hour before she finally found some temporary, flimsy form of peace. Her sleep was always light and she hardly ever had dreams, which was customary for a woman like her at the time- an un-blossomed witch. 

It was hard for her to remember the time where she didn’t have magic, but that time certainly existed. It lasted nearly thirty years. She never aged a day past twenty one, time moving past her without a care in the world. She was stuck right there, no magic except for the little bit in her bones that was keeping her young. And then she met you. 

You were the person that kicked her magic into gear. You were her kindred soul, her other half and the power to her magic. Meeting you had flung her right into the world of magic and spells, things that she only watched others do, but even as she was introduced to an entirely different world, she could remember only really wanting you. Her heart and soul called to you far louder and stronger than spells called to her eager mind. When she met you, it all fell into place. It was an easy love, one that was never going to be disputed or questioned, and loved it. She was prepared to move heaven, earth, and the gods for you, if she had to. Your arrival into her life had caused her to finally blossom. 

But now, she had bloomed and flourished and wilted all the same, and she was just waiting to decompose. 

“Have hope,” was all that Bucky, a warlock who had been tortured enough in his own way, would tell her. “Have hope that something good will come to you, and it will.” 

She never had the heart to tell him that good things hardly came to those who waited. He himself was a product of waiting, and it had served him well. Before he met his other half, he was taken by a rival clan and experimented on with spells that were so far past illegal that they made the casual witch shudder. Eventually, he was broken out and the rival clan was defeated, but he returned to them as an empty shell of a man. But then, Steve came, and then the man was nothing but a ball of light. His magic grew to be strong and so did Steve’s, and together they became known as some of the strongest practitioners of magic in the world. 

 But what did Wanda have to hope for when you were gone? What did she have to wake up for and smile at when she knew that she had buried you hundreds of years ago? It wasn’t even about the magic. She couldn’t care less about the way she felt the energy leave her- and it was dramatic- leaving in a singular burst of light the second you left. She only knew that you were gone, and that was the only thing that mattered, and it seemed to be the only thing that she even really felt. 

Well, she did feel one other thing. Exhaustion. Exhaustion caused by the lack of you by her side. And exhaustion was exactly why she assumed that she was hallucinating when she felt a small tug at her heart, in a part of her brain that had been dormant for years and years. She shook her head and tried to take her thoughts away from you and the nagging feeling in her gut. 

“Oh, no…” you exclaimed, voice tapering out into a whine as you watched the ruined paper sink deeper and deeper into the fountain, a fist clenching at your side in disappointment when you realized how many hours were lost, just like that, and then even tighter when you realized that part of you wasn’t even truly upset about the time spent on the ruined art. You were mostly upset that you lost the only vision of the hands that you had during the daytime. 

You were on your knees, sleeves still all the way down as you reached into the water frantically, causing the paper to move even further away. You weren’t even worried about your sketchbook that had fallen open onto the pavement, more focused on the rapidly deteriorating piece of paper. You hardly even noticed the man who knocked into you talking, trying his hardest to make the situation better. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?” 

“I mean,” you breathed out, taking the nearly disintegrated paper from the water and grimacing. When you realized that the man was fumbling to say something from behind you, celery apprehensive over the fact that you were upset, you took a short breath and turned around, giving him a small smile. He had dark brown hair that was cut short and crystal blue eyes that were striking, but you knew that they held thousands of stories by looking just once.  He was holding your sketchbook, and by the way he was gripping it tightly, you could tell that he had flipped through it for a second. “It’s just a drawing. I guess I can make another one.” 

  His eyes widened. You saw his jaw slacken and his neck stretch out, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He blinked three times, and his parted lips trembled for a second before he slammed them shut. You cocked a brow at him, your sadness about losing the drawing being replaced by a weak feeling of uneasiness. “Sir?” 

  “Knew it.” His face was clear from any type of emotion as he watched yours, and when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, a grin spread across his face. “I’m Bucky, what’s your name?” You furrowed your brows at him, asking what the hell had just occurred without saying a single word. “I’m sorry, you just looked really familiar.” 

 Just like that, you smiled. You knew that feeling, you felt like you got deja vu far too often to be normal. You hated when people made you feel strange for it, you always had, so you tried your best to ignore it with him. “You’re fine, don’t worry. I’m Y/N.” You extended your dry hand for him to shake it. He stared at it for a moment, and then with an eagerness that made you smile, he shook your hand. 

“‘I’m Bucky.” 

  For a moment, you could have sworn that you had done more tha just seen him before. Could have sworn that you had shaken his hand, met him before, been at the receiving end of his blinding yet somewhat shy smile. It flashed through you warm and bright, and you cleared your throat before pulling your hand away and realizing you had held it for too long. You cleared it again when you saw something flash in his eyes, a weak smile lifting on your lips.

“It’s not her.” 

Wanda was furious. She was insulted more than anything, really, angry that Bucky could even mistake the light of you for someone else. She knew that you would never grace the earth with your presence again, and she was so used to the fact that she was going to have to die before seeing you again. And for one of her closest friends to try to convince her that you were back? 

 “She would have already found me.” And Wanda believed that with her whole heart. You had asked her so long ago that you remember her, like she could ever forget. Your scent was so flowery that whenever she walked past a growing garden that she smelled you, your smile was so bright that she saw it in the way the rays of sun came down on the earth. She heard your laugh in the chirping of the birds every morning, and she saw your playfulness in the running waters of the stream by the cabin. She could never forget you, because everything was traced back to you. And you would never return without finding her. 

“I don’t think she even knows it yet, but she is looking for you.” Bucky insisted, stepping forward and receiving Wanda’s burning glare while Steve stepped to the side and let it happen. “I bumped into her and she dropped her sketchbook. I saw her drawings- she drew your eyes.” 

  Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. “What?” 

“She dropped the drawing of hands in the water, but I saw she had drawn eyes that looked just like yours, hair the same shade as yours, even drawn the necklace you used to wear. She draws roses, too. I swear to everything above, it’s her.” 

She could feel herself getting warm, the sort of emotions stirring inside of her that had the potential to turn into a singular weapon. The thought of a rose bush made her sick to her stomach. “It’s not her.” 

“You forget that I knew her, too,” Bucky stated, and Wanda’s desolation was replaced by some ancient feeling of possessiveness. “I could never forget her face, and that was it right there. That was her face, without a shadow of a doubt, And her voice-” 

Wanda’s face curled into a snarl. “Stop talking about her.”  

“Hey, Wanda, take a deep breath,” Steve cut in, ever the mediator, but Bucky was hardheaded. If he thought something needed to happen, he was the one to push for it to happen, and he needed her to see. 

 “She looks the same as she did the day she left.” Wanda let out a choked noise. For a second, all she could picture was her lover dying by the blooming rose bushes in the sunset, ruining two of the most beautiful things in life at once. The third (but first) was you, but not even your horrible death could taint Wanda’s memory of you. You would forever be the brightest and most beautiful thing to grace the earth. “I got her number, we’re meeting at a coffee shop a few blocks away.” 

“Leave her alone.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, tears welling up in her eyes. When she saw the brunet’s eyes widen and his mouth drop open, she spoke before he could get a word in. “Just stay away from her, Bucky.” 

All she could think about was your death. The way you choked on your own blood. The way you cried and looked up at her, but still managed to smile. And as she was consumed by rage and memories, the only other thought in her mind was that she was yours and you were here, and that she couldn’t save you then. But she was surely going to preserve your memory from Bucky’s mouth. 

  “I know you feel it coming back. You haven’t felt it in so long, but it’s warm, right? It’s powerful. You always were the strongest, and you’re not dormant any longer. Stop lying to yourself and depriving yourself of love, Wanda. You know Y/N-”

  She saw red. Red as red as the fires that burned in the magma underneath the ground, as red as embers in a fire. “You don’t get to say her name.” She saw so much red, so much hot anger that hardly covered her sadness, that she didn’t even see the way that she had her hand out red coming from her palm as she lifted Bucky right off of the wooden floor of their shared home. “You don’t get to talk about her.” There was a warbling noise in her ears, whispers that sounded like her name, getting louder and louder until she finally realized it was Steve trying to get her attention. 

  “Wanda.” 

Instantly, she dropped her arm and watched Bucky fall to the ground, landing in a crouched position. She watched him catch his breath on the ground. She opened her mouth to apologize, to say that she felt terrible and that she had no idea what happened, what took over her, but she was stopped by the brilliant smile that came onto Bucky’s face. 

  “You used magic.” He said, slowly and steadily, not a hint of hesitance or animosity in his eyes or voice. Instead, he seemed more proud than anything. “You can’t deny this now, Wanda.” 

She was hyperventilating, the pain in her chest intensifying as she tried without any results to get the right amount of air in her lungs. She felt her knees hit the ground before she knew that she did, her hands covering her face as she sobbed into herself. Her heart ached, tugging in so many different directions as her brain fought to rationalize what everything meant. She had used magic,  and that meant that you were back, in one way or another. She was in disbelief. She was in despair. She was in shock. 

“I know you do, I know you do,” It was Steve’s arms around her, and Steve’s voice in her ear, and she realized that she had been saying I miss her, I miss her, over and over again until the words jumbled. “We know you do, Wanda. We miss her too.” 

But he didn’t understand. He hadn’t lost Bucky since he had found him. He hadn’t walked the earth for centuries after losing the only thing that mattered to him as an empty shell of the person he used to be. He would never understand, but that wasn’t his fault. In fact, she prayed that he would never understand. 

“I’m sorry I approached you like that,” Bucky said, crouching down and hugging her just as Steve was, enclosing her into a hugging circle. They were coven, related by magic, and just being around them made her tears subside. “But you know that I would have never said anything like that unless I was one thousand percent sure. I would never do anything to hurt you, Wanda. All I want is for you to be happy. And I know that I found her.” 

And how could he want anything but the best for her? He knew her just as much as Steve did. Just as much as she probably knew herself. He and Steve were the ones who stormed the coven that took you from her by her side, and they were the ones that helped her send them to their graves. They supported her through thick and thin, through revenge and peace, and mostly, they loved you almost as much as she did. Why would Bucky lie? 

Wanda blinked, staring down at her hands in fear and wonder as her heart beat started to get away from her. Steve’s warm hand landed on her shoulder, and she flinched from the sudden touch after such a rush of power. 

“I think you should go with him, Wanda.” Her heavy breathing was all that filled the air for a moment. “Just take a look at her from outside so you can leave if he was wrong without anyone knowing, but you should at least try. I think Buck’s right.” 

Wanda’s breaths were still labored. Her hands trembled as she moved hair from her eyes, and her lip quivered before she found the strength to mutter a few words. “Will she- will she remember?” 

“I think she will,” Steve said softly. “But she’s probably just a human. It may take more than just seeing you for her to remember everything.” 

 Her eyes were wet with tears, and her heart was so big with warmth and need that she was scared that it would burst open at the seams. But she was even more terrified to lose the idea of you. Slowly and shakily, she nodded, her head bobbing up and down as she sealed her own fate. “I’ll go.” She saw Steve give her his fatherly and supportive smile, small yet full. “I’ll see her.” 

You didn’t know how you were gently swindled into giving Bucky your number. You knew that it was nothing but friendly, but he was so charming that you felt like you could never not know him. In fact, it felt like you already did know him. He said something about maybe commissioning an artwork of yours, and of course that excited you. You were going to meet him at a coffee shop, in a public place even though you weren’t the slightest bit afraid of him. But something felt different. 

 It started once you got into your car. You were driving to get to the shop when tingles came down your spine, and bumps raised on your arms, like someone was whispering against your skin. You started to feel warmth come and go in waves, brushing against your mind and then retreating again. You shook off all of the strong feelings as you turned your car off, parked in front of the coffee shop while the music from your speakers filled the silence, soft piano music that was perfect for the weather. 

  It was drizzling, the kind of weather that you liked to call a “lover’s drizzle” because of how often it was seen in romantic scenes. Scenes of confession, of reunion, of desperation between two lovers- more often than not, they had the mild rain to stand in. You turned the music down before shutting your car off and then stepping out, closing the door and locking it immediately before walking briskly to the entrance of the coffee shop with your recent drawings in hand. 

 Bucky wasn’t there when you arrived. In fact, hardly anyone was there besides the few employees, who smiled at you when you entered but otherwise fell back into conversation amongst themselves, which was fine with you. There was one beefy blonde man who was sitting with a laptop and a ball cap on. He glanced up for a moment and then took a double take, blinking hard at you with a star struck look on his face, and then he shot his gaze back down and went back to typing.

You sat down at a table for two, the only type of table that was there besides the long, awkward study tables that they had set up in the center of the room. You would much rather take the intimate setting of a two-seater than to sit in the middle of the shop, so you did just that. You flipped through your work, looking at it closely now that you had the time. He had mentioned something about possible portrait work for a friend of his, so you naturally brought most of the drawings that you had done with hands, arms, eyes, hair, nearly everything that was the closest to your heart. You rested your palm on top of them and watched your fingers trace the slender ones that you had drawn in what felt like by memory at the time, like you were just remembering the way an old friend’s hands used to look. You peeled that one back and looked into the eyes, the strangest and prettiest light green color that made your heart pound every time you looked at it. You took a deep breath in.

  “That’s gorgeous.” You jumped in your seat as the chair in front of you pulled out from under the table, and there was the charming brunet that you had met by the fountain, giving you the same welcoming smile that he first granted you. You smiled back without hesitation, your heart warming at the sight. “You sure can draw.” 

  “I try,” you joked, your grin nearly splitting your face. “Do you drink coffee?” 

“Nah,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “But I like tea, though.” You gave him a thoughtful look. 

“Are you into herbal healing?” 

You could have sworn that there was some sort of excitement in his eyes, but you weren’t sure enough by the time he opened his mouth again. “Yes, actually! What, does it look like I’m into it?” 

“No,” you answered, and it was true. Bucky was huge. He had the kind of build that intimidated other guys at the gym, the kind that made athletes jealous. He looked like the typical meathead, but he was sweeter than you could have imagined. But he looked nothing like a man who would be into herbal healing. “Just a guess.” 

“Pretty good guess,” he mused, and you grinned back. Your head was in the clouds of some strange deja vu when he asked you if you wanted something, and the entire exchange of whether or not you were going to pay was on the back burner as you sifted through your thoughts. By the time he came back, you noticed that you must have told him that you liked hot chocolate, and that he must have paid. You scolded him before he sat back down, waving you off. It was silent for a few moments as you looked out of the window, the rain still steadily working through the atmosphere. The cup was comfortingly warm. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

  With any other man, you would have immediately told him no, or at least have your guard up. But there was just something deep down, so buried that it was faint, but it was there, that told you that he was nowhere even close to being a threat. “Yes.”

 He nodded, taking a sip of his tea and then putting his cup down gently before giving you an intense look. “Who’s the girl?”  

You frowned. “What girl?” 

He raised a singular brow. “The one you draw.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat. You blinked twice, and then tilted your head to the side. “I don’t draw just one person,” you said slowly, the lie dragging its way out of your mouth and through your teeth. “They’re different people.” 

“Oh,” he said, but the smirk on his face told you that he knew you were lying to him and to yourself. You sipped your drink and something tugged at you, telling you to look out of the window and into the rain again, just one more time before you spilled your guts about seeing things- and then something caught your eye. A flash of a familiar reddish-brown. You turned your full body to look that way, and once you did, you nearly dropped your cup. 

  There was a woman staring back at you, eyes wide and full of so much emotion that the artist in you wanted to rush to make an unworthy attempt at capturing it. Her lips were parted in pure shock, but you were watching them tremble even from far away. She was getting slightly damp in the rain, but she stood there like it didn’t even matter, just locking eyes with you and sending your heart rate through the roof. When your eyes finally came back to hers after looking at her for what felt like the quickest eternity, you gasped. You knew those eyes. 

  If you weren’t so deep into gazing at the woman stuck behind the glass, you would have noticed the pleased and content look on Bucky’s face, and the look that he gave the big blond sitting with a ball cap on all by himself. You would have noticed the way that the blond man was turning his body towards your table, watching with the same amount of anticipation as Bucky was. You tried to understand why she looked so familiar, why she was scratching the part of your brain that always tried to convince you that you were much older than twenty something- and then it hit you. 

  You had been drawing this woman. And you had been thinking about her ever since you knew how to think. It was just the first time you were ever seeing the full picture. “I-” you muttered, eyes stuck on her and the way she looked like she was about to topple over from emotions. The words got stuck in your own throat as you weakly tried to get your mind to take you back to the conversation. “I- excuse me. I have to- I’ll be back- excuse me.” Your chair made a loud noise as you stood from the table in a haste, pushing the door open and walking towards the woman who was still standing on the sidewalk, dumbstruck. 

Before you even knew you were outside and into the rain, you were standing not even four steps away from the woman, who was now looking at you with an incomprehensible look on her face. You couldn’t even feel the rain on you. All you could feel was her gaze and the warmth that was settling in your stomach and chest, and the same intense familiarity that was hitting you when you looked at Bucky. But it was so much stronger. 

“I-” you frowned, taking a step closer and resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. “Do I know you? Have we met?” You had to have met. You had seen her in your sleep, in your daydreams, in your sketchbook. And still, you never could have imagined how beautiful she was. 

She was silent. 

“I know this is random and that I just bum rushed you, but, did we go to school together or something?” You were embarrassed. You had never begged someone to remember you before, but this woman was different. She hadn’t said a word to you, and you didn’t even know her name, but you were enraptured. You swore you knew her. You swore you saw her eyes glaze over for a second. 

“You really don’t remember, do you?” Her voice struck something familiar in your chest, something warm and comforting. It was so familiar, so far back in your memory that it felt like home. Her accent, her inflection, the way she spoke slowly yet deliberately. It was all there in your mind, but you just couldn’t figure out how you knew it so well. “You don’t remember who I am?” 

 That had you closing your mouth. You tilted your head to the side at what could have been a hostile question, but her tone made it sad. Did you forget a high school friend? “Oh, um, I know you from somewhere, but I can’t really-” 

 “Think.” The desperation in her voice made your knees shake. If she were anyone else, you would have told her to go away, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want her to go away. But you couldn’t quite place her either, even though your own heart was screaming at you to remember. 

  “I’m sorry,” you said, a hurt expression on your face. You braved yourself to leave, taking a deep breath and giving her a weak smile that embarrassed you even further. “This was weird of me. I’ll just-” 

 She was reaching for you. Time started to run slower as her pale arm extended towards you, long fingers that you had committed to memory and to paper a thousand times outstretched. Your mouth dropped open ever so slightly as you stood in place for a second, body still until you subconsciously leaned forward, your nerves buzzing under your skin. 

  For a second, the only thing you could do was look at the point where her skin touched yours. 

  You had seen magic before. You had seen it in movies and at theme parks and when miracles happened, but nothing ever like when her skin touched yours. You swore that the warmth that your body had been feeling kicked in even stronger, surrounding you in comfort. Her hand was wrapped around your arm, gentle yet begging, firm yet wishing all the same for something you couldn’t quite see yet. You looked up and into her eyes, the eyes you had drawn and seen so many times, and then you saw it. 

   You saw it in more than flashes. They were coming in at the speed of light, but somehow you were able to catch every moment and every feeling that came along. You heard her voice as clear as day, ringing with laughter. You saw the two of you attempting to skip stones. You saw her enchanting your stones behind your back to make you think you had actually done it. You saw her mouth brushing over your cheeks, your mouth, your forehead. You could feel her hands on you, holding you, protecting you, cherishing you all the same. You could remember the way that you felt when you saw her standing in traditional witch’s clothing, being inducted into her coven as a blossomed witch. You saw everything and nothing, and you remembered it all. 

Wanda. 

A strangled sound escaped your body, so feral that it scared you, but you didn’t care. You pulled her forward, your head clashing against her chest. You could feel her shaking, like she wanted nothing more than to hold you just as tightly, but she was hesitating. “Wanda,” you called out, hugging her tighter, and then, like something in the universe stretched too far and then snapped right back into place, she was returning the embrace. 

  “I thought I had lost you forever,” she said, her voice hollow yet so full, so expressive. “I lost you, darling.” 

  The memories were all there, like all it took was a touch, but you were still coping with the knowledge. You had been murdered. Murdered by witch hunters, way back when witches were known and feared. That had to have been hundreds of years ago, you knew it. But still, your focus was on Wanda. It always would be on Wanda, forever and always. Just like hers was on you. 

“You didn’t,” you managed to say, your own voice thick with emotion as you buried your face into her neck, finally feeling the texture of the hair that you tried so hard to get right. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere ever again.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly sobbing in your arms. You had no idea how you weren’t being interrupted in the crowded streets, but when you took a look back inside of the cafe to see the men who you so clearly remembered as Steve and Bucky, you knew it had something to do with them and their fulfilled smiles. “I wasn’t able to save you. I let you die, and I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.” 

  Her words brought you back to the present. “Wanda, no. No, no, no.” You wanted to pull away and look at her face, but the second you started to, she held onto you even tighter. You leaned your head back onto her chest. “It wasn’t your fault. There was no way any of us could have known, and no way that you could have saved me. It was beyond us.” 

  “Nothing should have ever been beyond us.” She argued softly. “I’m so sorry.” 

“But it was,” you said. “And now it’s behind us. Don’t apologize, Wanda.” You wiggled around and got free enough to look up at her teary face. “I may not have recognized you, but now that I do, I can’t believe that I ever forgot you.”

   “A new life will do that to you.” 

“Is it really a new life if I remember everything?” You said softly, the rain long gone as you stood with each other, bodies nearly molded together with how close you were. 

  She pulled away to look down at you, her eyes and overall expression tense, and then there was a look that you recognized from a long time ago. It was a look of sweet desire. You closed the cap between the two of you, pressing your lips to hers in a way that proved that you were both two lost souls who had wandered their way back to their other halves. 

“It can be whatever you want it to be, darling.” Her lips brushed your again, soft and tender and eager for more touch. “As long as you let me be in it.”