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Honey Girl. Chapter Six.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.
Chapter Synopsis - You finally start to appreciate the happiness that having a soulmate brings.
Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. so much fluff.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 5k
Author's Note - the sixth installment!! thank you to everyone who voted in my poll - I listened, and decided to make this chapter as sweet as pie, because I think we all need it. it's nice to have a little break from the angst. just a liiiiittle break though. a tiny one. as always, thank you for all of your love and support and enthusiasm and patience and kindness towards this story. so much love for every one of you. <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Masterlist. Inbox.
"Are you happy?"
You stretch your feet further into the sand and sit up, wiggling to get comfortable on the picnic blanket.
"That's a big question to start with."
Stella laughs and closes her notebook, deciding to take a different route than originally planned.
"I just mean... be honest with me. I'm not gonna be offended if you say no."
"Do you think I'm gonna say no?"
"Do you always have to answer my questions with questions?"
You tilt your head and watch her, smiling softly.
"I thought this was supposed to be an employee performance review."
"You're not my employee and you know it."
Both of you laugh, the sound whipped away by the sea breeze.
"Then what am I, Stella?" you chuckle.
"You're basically my partner. Come on, we've done all of this together. You helped me build this business from the ground up - I couldn't have done it without you."
You go to protest, so she continues.
"I think you should be. My partner, that is. Obviously there's logistics to work out, but it'd be fifty fifty. You and I, co-owners. It doesn't feel right to me that you're my 'employee'. I'm not your boss. We're equals."
Your mind is running a mile a minute, trying to process what Stella's asking of you. Being her business partner is an opportunity you know is rare and incredibly special - and it could potentially set you up for life - but you can't help but think about the fact it's a big commitment. About home. About Bucky.
"You don't have to answer me right now - I just want you to think about it. We always talked about opening up businesses of our own. I should have asked you to be my partner at the beginning, but honestly... I didn't know if you were gonna stick around. It kinda felt like you had one foot out the door when we started."
You take a deep breath, nodding.
"Yeah. I, uh - I think I did. Don't get me wrong, I was super excited, but the idea of moving away when I felt like I'd just got home was a lot to process. I'd just settled back there, and then I was gonna be packing up all of my stuff again and shipping myself across the country. "
"I didn't realise it was so tough for you, you know. I just assumed you wouldn't mind moving. I mean, you were always up for it, back at school."
"Things changed, after I graduated. I got home, and a couple of things happened and I guess it just... turned everything upside down. Home is different now. In a good way, I think."
"You're different now, too."
You look at her carefully, half attempting to read her mind.
"How do you mean?"
"You're... more grounded. More careful. You think through everything way more than you ever did. Almost like you've realised you're not invincible anymore."
There's a feeling, when you're young, that you're indestructible. Unharmable. Broken bones mend, cuts and bruises heal, hearts and minds forget about their aches if you give them long enough.
Then one day, that feeling is gone. And you realise that you're mortal - made of flesh and blood and bones that will one day be returned to the Earth, whether you like it or not.
Meeting your soulmate is like having that realisation again, but bigger. Again, and again, and again. You don't live for yourself, anymore. You live for them. The pain they'd feel if they lost you is unfathomable, completely unimaginable.
So you become more careful. Less reckless. You drive a little slower, take things a little easier, quit your dangerous hobbies and unhealthy habits. You need to be alive for as long as possible. And you know your soulmate will do the same.
That's how you can tell a Tethered person from an Untethered one. Ask two people to go skydiving with you, and the Tethered one will tell you no. They can't risk it. It's not worth it.
Stella's right. You have realised you're not invincible anymore. You're a little more cautious when you climb ladders, you don't balance precariously on the kitchen counters anymore. You look twice when you cross the street, and don't risk it if there's a car coming and you could maybe get across.
You're also painfully aware that Bucky's older than you. He'll be turning forty in less than two years. Sure, he's not ancient, but it does mean you'll have less time together than Lacie will with Cameron, for example. And that hard truth makes you live a little less recklessly, every single day.
"I guess I just... grew up."
You're honestly not sure why you don't just tell Stella about Bucky. You know she'd understand. But there's a part of you that feels protective over what you have - territorial, even. Your Tethering is sacred, almost, and you feel the primal urge to guard it with your life. To lock it in a box and keep it away from anything that could harm it. The less people that know, the less damage that can be done. Maybe.
"I did too. The world is kinda scary now we're not in that little culinary school bubble, huh?"
"Yeah," you laugh. "We thought that was hard. Little did we know."
"Take your time, thinking about my offer. But just know that I really, really appreciate the fact that you're here. That you believed in me enough to move across the country. It means a lot."
"Of course," you say, reaching across to grab her hand. "I always believed in you, Stella. I always knew you'd do something great."
"We'd."
"Hmm?"
"We'd do something great. The two of us. Together."
"I always knew that we'd do something great," you correct.
You're starting to believe that, as time goes on. You were born to do this. You deserve to live your dreams.
Let the happiness seep through, you'd told yourself.
It finally feels like it is.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
"There's a guy here to see you."
Isabel pops her head around the door, grinning at you like she knows something you don't.
"Again?"
She nods, giggling.
"Let me guess... he's hot, tall, brown hair?"
"Bingo."
"Thanks, Isa. I'll be right out. Is it busy out there?"
"It's quieter than it was. There was a pastry rush this morning, but we're good now."
You laugh and hang up your apron, washing your hands quickly before making your way to the café.
You feel like you're having déjà vu, this situation oddly familiar.
Just like Isa said, he's stood waiting with his back to you, broad shoulders filling out his powder blue short sleeve button up.
You're excited to see Rafael again. You've been trying a new cookie recipe for his sister, and you're eager to get him to try it. You're mentally making a note to buy a nice box to put them in when you feel it.
The lights get a little brighter, the colours a little more vibrant. The tightness in your chest eases, allowing you to take a full, deep breath. You can suddenly hear the birds outside singing, melodies drifting through the open doors like a summer breeze.
The man turns around, and it's not Rafael.
It's Bucky.
You're moving before you can even process it, running and jumping into his arms. You inhale, revelling in his familiar scent. He's here. Your happiness has arrived.
"Surprise," he laughs quietly into your ear. "Miss me, honey girl?"
You beam a grin at him, pulling away to look at his handsome face.
"More than you'll ever know."
"Oh, I know. I feel it."
He places a hand over his heart gently, looking at you with pure adoration.
"What are you doing here?"
"It's been a month since your Mom's birthday. A month since I've seen your pretty face. A month too long."
You roll your eyes jokingly, so he continues.
"You don't mind that I'm here, do you? Because I'll go, if it's too much for you. I know me showing up unannounced is a lot to process."
"Don't go," you reply quickly, grabbing his hand. "I want you here, Buck. More than anything."
He leans in and presses his lips to yours, cradling your face in his warm hands. The background of the café melts away, the man in front of you the only thing that matters.
You pull away and smile at him, pressing your forehead into his gently.
"Come back to the kitchen with me. Let's get away from all the noise."
You grab his hand and pull him with you, ignoring the excited giggling from Isabel behind the counter.
Bucky perches against a counter, leaning back to allow you to stand in between his legs. You wrap your arms around his neck and peck his lips, stealing kisses in between giddy smiles.
"I hope you weren't expecting a day full of super exciting adventures. I've got a list full of stuff I've got to get finished by closing."
"Honey, I'm more than content to stay here and watch you work. There's nothing I love more than watching you bake."
You run your fingertips over his face carefully, gently tracing his features as you look at him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure. I don't care what we do, as long as we're together."
You wrap your arms around his middle, holding him as tightly as you can.
"I feel like I hit the soulmate jackpot," you whisper.
"No one's as lucky as I am," he whispers back. "Now, come on. Let me see you work your magic."
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
Bucky, it turns out, makes a damn good assistant.
Instead of just watching, he volunteers to help in whatever way he can. You set him onto weighing your ingredients, so you can focus on making and decorating. He takes his job very seriously, measuring down to the precise gram each time. You can't help but grin as you watch him concentrate, determined to get it right.
At lunch time, Isabel brings you both coffee and sandwiches, entering just as you're teaching Bucky how to properly fold in ingredients.
"Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"You could never. Isa, this is Bucky. Buck, this is Isabel. Our best waitress."
He holds out his floury hand for her to shake.
"It's nice to meet you, Isabel. I've heard a lot about you."
"You have?"
Her eyes light up as she looks at you, fighting the smile off her face.
"My honey talks about you all the time."
Isabel glances between the two of you, clearly trying to figure things out.
"And you two are..."
"Soulmates," you say at the same time as Bucky does.
Her jaw drops for a moment, before she laughs.
"Yeah. That makes a lot of sense, actually."
You roll your eyes at her lovingly before Stella's voice calls her name from out front.
"I better go. But me and you are gonna talk about this later."
"Fine," you laugh.
"Nice to meet you!" Bucky shouts after her, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I like that we're just telling people now."
"Yeah, me too, actually. I thought it'd be scary, but... it feels right."
He slings an arm around your middle, pulling you into his side.
"We've still got the two most important people left to tell."
Your muscles tense and Bucky feels it instantly, running his thumb in patterns over your hip gently.
"I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm almost ready, Buck. We can't avoid it forever. Next time I'm home, I think we should do it. We should tell them."
Bucky hooks two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.
"Are you sure? Once we tell them, we can't undo it. We'll only do it if you're one hundred percent sure."
"I'll be ready when the time comes. It'll be a huge weight off of both of our shoulders, which I think we both need."
"Okay then," he says, kissing your forehead. "Next time you're home."
Isabel clears her throat from the doorway, smiling sheepishly.
"I can't believe I'm saying this again, but... there's a guy here to see you."
You laugh, untangling yourself from Bucky with a kiss to his cheek.
"Send him through. Thanks, Isa."
The man you were originally expecting to see this morning walks into the kitchen, envelopes in his hand.
"Hey!"
"Hey, Rafael."
He gives you a quick hug, before waving at Bucky.
"Hey, man. You've gotta be the soulmate, right?"
Bucky chuckles, coming over to shake Raf's hand.
"Yeah, that's me. How'd you know?"
"Are you kidding? You can feel it the minute you walk into the room. There's like, electricity in here."
You laugh, hiking yourself up to sit on the counter. Bucky stands next to you, arms crossed over his broad chest.
"Here," Rafael says, handing you an envelope. "We're having a gala next month, for the charity that has supported my sister. We'd love it if you could come - and bring your date too, of course."
"I'd love to," you say as you read the invitation. "Do you need me to bring anything? You know I'll happily make something, if you guys need it."
"You would?"
"Absolutely! I could bring a cake, if you like? I haven't done a proper, three tiered cake in forever. I'd love to."
"That'd be... amazing. Seriously. We just want to raise as much money as possible."
"Of course. Thanks for these, Raf. How is she?"
"She's okay. She's getting a tiny bit stronger every day, and that's all we can really ask for."
You reach a hand out to squeeze his in support.
"You know where I am if you need anything."
"Of course. Thank you, so much. I've gotta run - I've got like a hundred of these invites to deliver. But I'll see you at the weekend?"
"For sure. See you, Raf!"
"Nice to meet you, Bucky."
"You too, man. Take care."
Isa shows Rafael out of the door, winking at you on her way out.
"Damn, he's handsome," Bucky laughs.
"Isn't he?" you giggle. "Nothing on my soulmate though, I'm afraid."
"Shut up," he blushes, leaning in to capture your lips. "You wanna get dinner when you're done here?"
"Yes, please. I'll show you around my new apartment too."
"Can't wait."
There's not an ounce of tension in your muscles as you finish up your bakes for the day, gliding around the kitchen while Bucky stands and watches your every move.
If you could pause time, this would be when you'd do it. You'd be content to live in this moment forever.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
The minute Bucky walks through your front door, he inhales deeply. The entire place smells like you, cosy and golden.
"You like it?"
"It's gorgeous, baby. I love the windows."
He makes his way over to your kitchen, where the glass panes run from floor to ceiling. Sitting on the bench pressed against it, he takes in the view, savouring the feeling of the sun on his face.
You sit down on his lap, draping your legs over him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Nuzzling your face into his jaw, you press a kiss to the stubble, resisting the urge to lick the salt off of his skin.
"Come on," you murmur. "Let me show you my bedroom. The sun sets in that direction, so it's always beautiful in there."
You grab his hand and walk him across the apartment, swinging open the door to your room and pushing him inside.
He takes in the space for a moment before turning in your direction, striding over to smash his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers into his shirt and pull him closer, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth with ease.
Bucky leans in to trail kisses down your neck as he slips your shirt over your head, making quick work of unclasping your bra with skilled fingers. He grasps your chest in both hands, massaging gently as he nips at your throat.
"So fucking pretty," he murmurs. "Haven't stopped thinking about you since you left me."
You whine and unbutton his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. You're desperate to see more, desperate to feel his skin on yours, desperate to bare every inch of him.
Your fingers make deft work of his belt, sliding it from its loops and throwing it to the ground. You unpop his button and slide down the zipper, pulling his jeans off his legs in no time. You shimmy out of your skirt, leaving you both in your underwear.
The evening sun seeps through the window panes, illuminating the room in hues of orange and gold. The light hits Bucky's skin, making him glow in a halo of love and adoration.
He walks you backwards, wrapping an arm around your back to throw you onto the white sheets of your bed. Crawling over you, he settles in between your legs, pressing gentle kisses from your ankles to your inner thighs.
"The way you look when you come has been burned in my mind," he whispers. "Need to see it again. It's been too long."
He slides your underwear down your legs and wastes no time, diving into you like a man starved. He devours you, tongue never ceasing it's movements. His hands pry your thighs apart, one arm thrown over your stomach to keep you still. When your muscles start to shake, Bucky doubles down on his efforts, lapping and sucking at you like you're his lifesource.
"Oh, Buck, I'm-"
You see stars as you come, white and silver shapes flying through your vision. Bucky never stops, prolonging your release for as long as he can. When you go boneless, he ceases, pressing kisses to the inside of your knee.
"You okay?" he murmurs, moving so his body smothers yours.
"I'm good," you smile, leaning up to kiss him. You groan when you taste yourself, wrapping your legs around his waist.
"Need you, baby. Please, Buck."
"You sure?"
You smile at him, cradling his face in your hands.
"Couldn't be surer."
He dips down to lick into your mouth once more, shucking his boxers off and throwing them across the room. Slipping a condom on, he lines himself up, eyes meeting yours.
"I need you more than I need air to breathe," he murmurs. "You know that, don't you?"
"Buck," you breathe. "I've been going crazy here without you."
He goes to speak, but stops himself, instead leaning down to kiss your forehead.
"I know," you whisper. "I know."
Bucky slides home in one smooth thrust, both of you gasping. One of his hands finds your hip, the other resting against your throat as an anchor. You wrap your legs around his waist, arms snaking around his shoulders.
"Fuck me, please."
"Fuck," he groans. "I'll be replaying that in my head forever."
You chuckle breathlessly, gasping when he draws his hips back and forward again. He sets an even pace - not too fast, not too slow. He has you right where he wants you, both of your bodies in perfect synchronisity. It feels like the stars have aligned. Everything's fallen into place.
Bucky dances his fingers from your hip to your clit, rubbing firm circles. He plays you like a violin, your muscles tensing as you get closer.
"That's it, pretty girl. Fuck, you're so good for me. You close, honey? Gonna come for me again?"
You nod frantically as he picks up his pace, hips colliding with yours. He groans as you tighten around him, head dropping to rest against yours.
"Come for me, honey girl," he whispers. "Please."
Your back arches as you find your release, nails scratching at the skin of Bucky's back. The pain tips him over the edge, spilling inside of you with a deep groan. He collapses on top of you, both of your chests heaving.
"I think we're naturals at that," you chuckle hoarsely.
"You think it's the soulmate thing, or are we just that good?"
"I think we're just that good," you laugh, pushing him off your body so he lands next to you. You link your fingers with his, resting your head on his chest.
"I need a drink."
"I was just thinking that, actually. You wanna go out? Know anywhere?"
"There's a cute little bar that looks out over the cove - it has good food and good cocktails. You wanna go there?"
"I'd go anywhere with you," he affirms, pressing a kiss into your hair.
"I'd kill for a pineapple margarita right now."
Bucky sits up suddenly, bringing you with him, arms wrapped around you.
"Then let's go get my girl a pineapple margarita."
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
The golden lights adorn the beams of wood above your head, the deck illuminated in the gentle glow. The ocean waves break the shore in a comfortingly repetitive motion, a calming soundtrack to the evening. You sit across from Bucky at your table for two, the sunset casting orange hues across the horizon.
"It's beautiful out here."
"Yeah," you agree, smiling. "The view is pretty good."
Your eyes haven't left his, lost in the sea blue of his irises. He chuckles, running his thumb over the back of your hand where it rests atop the table.
"This is our first date, you know."
"Really?"
"I mean, we've been 'dating' this whole time - but we've never gone out and had dinner like this. Held hands and all."
"You're right. Our first date of many, huh?"
"Our first of countless," he grins, brushing his lips over your knuckles in a gentle kiss.
"Where do my parents think you are?"
"Visiting a cousin in Nevada."
You laugh, and the sound makes Bucky light up, electricity running through his veins.
"You're a scarily good liar."
"To everyone but you."
"I used to think I was a good liar. Until I met you, that is."
Just as he's about to respond, your waitress appears, two pineapple margaritas in hand. She takes your orders and leaves, smiling at you.
"Oh, shit. She forgot to give us straws. I'm gonna grab some - be right back."
You chase her inside, tapping her shoulder gently.
"Excuse me - could I get a couple of straws, please?"
"Of course. Sorry!" she apologises, handing them to you.
"Thank you! Your shirt is so cute, by the way."
"Thanks - it's thrifted! You're gorgeous, girl. And your boyfriend is stupidly hot too. You're a pretty couple."
You thank her and laugh, returning to Bucky with a grin on your face.
"What's got you smiling?"
"The waitress called you my boyfriend."
"Huh. As much as I love the commitment... boyfriend kinda sounds like we're in ninth grade, doesn't it?"
You throw your head back, laughing with your entire being.
"That's what I thought. There's gotta be a better word. Partner? No, that makes us sound forty."
"I am almost forty."
"Oops."
Bucky rolls his eyes, but he can't wipe the blinding grin from his face. He takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture of you, admiring the way the breeze caresses your face as the setting sun beats down.
"Sneaky," you tease. "Let me see?"
He hands you the phone, letting you look through. You swipe right one too many times, and accidentally land on a picture of a blueprint laid out across a kitchen counter. His kitchen counter.
"Babe... what's this?"
You don't miss the way Bucky's cheeks heat up, blush creeping across his chest that's exposed by the V neckline of his blue button up. He stutters for a moment, before finding his footing.
"They're blueprints. Plans for a house."
"A house?"
"I want to build a house."
When you keep looking at him softly, he doubles down.
"I want to build a house for us."
Your breath hitches in your chest, the world going silent momentarily.
"You... you do?"
"My Dad worked in construction my entire childhood. I watched him build houses, apartment buildings, bungalows... everything. I've always wanted to do it, but never had reason to. Until now."
You squeeze his hand, urging him to continue.
"I've been planning it for upwards of ten years. But I'm taking it more seriously, now. Those blueprints are the final ones. It's all mapped out, down to the square inch. I've made some modifications for you, obviously."
He zooms in on the picture, pointing out areas on the plans.
"I've added a big island in the kitchen with a tonne of storage in it, for all of your supplies. I know you have that huge mixer, so I've made sure there's enough space for it to fit underneath with the doors closed."
You take a deep breath, lump in your throat forming unwillingly.
"Up here, there's a window at the top of the stairs. I've added a sketch of a bench which I'll upholster, so you can sit and read in the sunlight."
Tangling your legs with his under the table, you urge him to continue.
"I've also made sure there's a balcony off the master bedroom that overlooks the garden. I know how much you love sitting on yours in your apartment at home. There's probably like a hundred more little modifications for you, but those are just a few."
Tears are running down your cheeks freely, emotion escaping you like a flash flood.
"Bucky..."
"If it's too much too soon, please tell me. I won't be offended, baby. I know it's a lot."
"It's perfect."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
You jump up from your seat and around the table, throwing yourself into his lap to kiss him happily.
"I can't wait to build a house with you, Buck."
He grins at you, joy radiating off him in waves.
"Buck?"
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
He blinks back tears for a second, processing the words he's been waiting to hear for what feels like an eternity.
"I love you too, honey girl. My pretty baby."
He leans in to kiss you tenderly, the rest of the world melting away. It feels like it's just the two of you, floating on cloud nine.
Suddenly, you get it. You understand why people say this is the greatest thing that'll ever happen.
It is. They were right all along.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
After several pineapple flavoured cocktails and a taco or four, you and Bucky take a slow stroll home, hand in hand along the sidewalk.
"You wanna have a sleepover tonight?" you ask, digging your heels into the ground to stop yourself from skipping with glee.
"Can't think of anything I want more," he chuckles.
You walk a little while longer, content to bask in the comfortable silence.
"Guess what happened a few days ago."
"What, honey?"
"Stella asked me to be her business partner."
He stops where he is, turning to face you but never letting go of your hand.
"Wait, really?"
"Mhmmm."
"And how do you feel about that?"
"I was unsure, at first. But I'm going to do it. I've been thinking about this for a while, actually. We had to take a business class in culinary school, and I actually learned a lot. I've had a business plan for the future of the café drafted up for months. Numbers, locations, investors, everything. I'm really serious about this, you know."
He's gazing at you like you hung the moon, eyes bright and adoring.
You sit down on a bench, looking out over the coastal path. Bucky joins you, arm heavy over your shoulders.
"I can't stay here."
His head whips around.
"Baby..."
"I mean it, Buck. I like this city, I do, but I just can't settle. It feels like a placeholder until I can go home. And it's not fair to Stella, if it feels like I'm half in half out."
He goes to speak, but you're on a roll.
"I'm suggesting that we franchise the business. It's the logical next step anyway, it was just a matter of choosing the right location. I'm proposing somewhere a hell of a lot closer to home. To you. To my parents. And that means we'll have one branch on the east coast, and one on the west. We can start filling the middle, in the future."
"Are you... are you sure?"
"I've never been surer of anything, James Buchanan Barnes. I wanna start my life with you. Telling my parents, building a house, furthering my career. I'm ready, now."
Bucky grabs your face in his warm hands, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. It's all the answer you need.
"I want you to read over my plan, when we get back to my place. But it's tight, Buck. I've been perfecting it for months. There's no way Stella can say no - I've made it so she won't want to. Besides, she just wants me to be happy. And this... this will make me happy. Happy beyond words."
Bucky stands up, wrapping his arms around your middle to bring you with him. He spins you around, laughing when you squeal in surprise.
"I'm so proud of you, honey baby. I love you so much."
"I love you," you grin. "More than I ever thought possible."
Bucky practically carries you home, both of you giddy on excitement and hope.
You wake up tangled in his arms, sunlight beaming down onto your skin through the open window. Happiness, you think. It's finally here.
Happiness. It's finally here.
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she really does, doesn’t she <3
Honey Girl. Chapter Nine.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Ten. The Playlist. Series Masterlist.
Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky are holding it together. Until you aren’t.
Pairing - DadsBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au
Warnings - cursing. hospital setting. talk of illness/health issues. panic attack.
Word Count - 3k
Authors Note - I probably sound like a broken record, but… thank you all so much for your patience and support. couldn’t do it without you. can you even believe that next chapter will be chapter ten? thanks for sticking with me. sorry for this rollercoaster of a chapter. there is still more to come - don’t worry!! <3
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3
Masterlist. Inbox.

You don’t remember the journey.
One minute, Bucky’s grabbing your hand and bundling you into the passenger seat of his truck, buckling you in as your hands shake. The next, he’s undoing your seatbelt, telling you that you’ve arrived as he puts the car in park. You don’t recall speeding across town and into the city. You can’t even think back to the roads flying past in a blur as your thoughts run at a hundred miles an hour.
The only thing that’s on your mind is your Dad.
You and Buck take the stairs two at a time, hands clasped together tightly. When you reach the reception desk, you try to speak, but nothing comes out. Your words have dried up, dissolved and evaporated into thin air. Your soulmate saves you, once again.
“We’re here to see a family member in cardiology. Can you tell us where to go, please?”
The receptionist looks up at you both, before nodding her head in the right direction.
“Follow that hallway, then through the double doors and up the stairs. Go left, and you’ll see the sign.”
You’re on autopilot, heading straight towards the doors. Bucky follows you quickly, throwing a chaste but genuine thanks to the lady behind the desk as he goes.
“Baby,” he calls after you when you reach the top. “Baby, hold on.”
You spin around, looking up at him with glassy eyes. Your bottom lip quivers as he tucks some hair behind your ear, fingertips brushing your cheek gently.
“Take a breath, please. You’re gonna faint before you get there.”
You inhale as deeply as possible, your lungs only filling to half capacity. You grab onto his hand for a second, squeezing as hard as you can.
“Okay. Breath done. Let’s go.”
You take off down the hallway, leaving Bucky to jog after you. Finding the big blue sign that reads Cardiology, you storm through the doors, looking around frantically. You spot Room 4 and head straight into it.
The room is all white, clinical and clean. There’s sunshine beaming through the window, but it doesn’t seem to warm the space. It’s cold, almost ominous. It makes it hard to breathe.
The bed is empty, crisp sheets tucked tightly into the plastic sides. Your Mom is sat in the chair beside it. She looks small, swallowed by the blue material.
“Mama.”
You don’t recognise your own voice. It’s choked and strangled, foreign to your ears.
She practically jumps up, striding across the room to wrap you in her arms. Inhaling the familiar scent of home, you hug her back as tightly as you can.
“Where is he?”
“He’s in surgery.”
You breathe a half sigh of relief. You’d feared the worst, when you’d walked in and seen the empty bed.
“What happened?”
Bucky’s been leaning against the door frame, watching you both carefully but giving you space. The tone of his voice is calm, collected. He’s holding it together for you.
“I honestly couldn’t understand it all. They were telling me so much information so fast.”
She sits down in the chair while you and Bucky perch on the edge of the bed, facing her.
“It was supposed to just be an appointment, wasn’t it?”
She nods.
“They did the EKG and weren’t happy with the results, so the nurse put us in this room while she waited for the Doctor. Then the Doctor burst in, talking about blockages and bypasses and emergency surgery.”
Her hands are trembling, neatly manicured nails being picked at repeatedly. Bucky reaches over and links his fingers with hers, all grounded and reassuring.
“They put him in a gown,” she continues, “and all of a sudden they were wheeling him away. I can’t even remember what I said, or if I said goodbye or I love you.”
“Mama, you will have said I love you. I promise you that.”
“She’s right, Lori. You will have said exactly the right thing. You always do.”
She squeezes his hand gratefully, taking a deep breath.
“The Doctor said he had a blockage, and they were worried about blood clotting. That’s why they rushed him in. The nurse said she’d update me when she knew anything, but I haven’t spoken to anyone yet.”
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon. You know what Jack’s like,” Bucky laughs. “He’s the toughest guy I know.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, freshen up a little. Call me if a nurse comes in, won’t you?”
You nod, clasping her hand tightly for a moment.
“Promise, Mama.”
She stands up carefully, inhaling before leaving the room. Your posture instantly crumbles, faked bravado leaving you as soon as she’s out of view.
“I’m so scared,” you whisper.
Bucky hears it clear as day.
He slides closer to you, wrapping both arms around your frame. Pressing a kiss into your hair, he runs his fingertips up and down your spine gently.
“I’ve got you, baby. You’re allowed to be scared. But everything is going to be okay. I know it will be.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you mumble into the cotton of his shirt. “It should, but it doesn’t. That scares me, too.”
Bucky traces the features of your face gently with his thumb, his ocean blue eyes never leaving yours. He dances his finger over the slope of your nose, your cheekbones, the curve of your lips. His skin is warm and calloused against yours, polar opposite to how cold you feel.
“I’m your soulmate,” he murmurs, “but I’m not a miracle worker. Fuck, I wish I was. There are gonna be some things that I can’t fix for you, no matter how badly I want to. We just have to ride them out together, sweet girl.”
You nod, leaning in to rest your head against his pounding heart.
It still beats to the rhythm of your name. Even after all this time.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
You don’t jump apart when your Mom walks back in.
Upon first glance, the picture is simple - a girl being comforted by her Dads best friend. A hug. Reassuring words.
If you look closer, the image becomes a little more complicated - her fingers tangled in the front of his shirt. His hand cradling the back of her head. Familiar lips softly pressed to her temple.
Any other time, someone might question the sheer intimacy of the moment. But not now.
Now, all focus is drawn to the nurse in sky blue scrubs that appears in the doorway.
“You’re all Jack’s family?”
You all spin to face her, nodding frantically.
“Thought so. He’s out of surgery, and he’ll be brought up here shortly.”
“Is he alright?” your Mom asks, standing up. You can physically see the tension rising in her body.
“He’s doing okay. The Doctor is going to come up and talk to you a little about some… complications. But he’s okay.”
The reassurance at the end of the sentence doesn’t make any of you feel any better. You’re stuck on the word complications.
As if on cue, your Dad is wheeled in, all laid up cosy in crisp white sheets. He has oxygen tucked up under his nose, tubes and wires attached to his hands. He looks fragile, which is a state you’ve never seen him in before. Usually, he’s larger than life, braver than a bear, with a booming laugh that can make anyone smile. In this current moment, he looks like a little boy again, put to bed softly by his mother on a school night.
They get him situated as the Doctor approaches the three of you, huddled by the chair to stay out of the way.
“The surgery went well. The blockage has been fixed, and hopefully shouldn’t reoccur. We’ll put him on medication for the future, blood thinners most likely, to prevent anything further.”
Your Mom nods, lips pressed together.
“The nurse said there was complications?”
Bucky’s voice is low and careful, the timbre of it reverberating next to you.
“We ran into some trouble with the anaesthetic. We struggled to wake him for quite some time, and then his blood pressure completely bottomed out. We managed to get him steady again, but it was a little touch and go for a minute.”
Your Mom sits down slowly, holding onto the arms of the chair with taut knuckles.
“Your husband is going to be just fine, ma’am. We’ll manage any future worries with meds. Some people just don’t respond well to anaesthesia, especially if they’ve never had it before. We’ll monitor him over the next few days, keep him under observation just in case. But it looks positive. I assure you.”
She inhales, leaning back and exhaling the breath.
“He’ll probably just sleep it off for the rest of today, so don’t worry if he’s barely conscious. His body has been through a trauma, and he needs some time to recover.”
You all nod, Bucky’s hand reaching out to squeeze yours momentarily. He subtly presses a kiss into the nape of your neck, as if to melt the tension away.
You all breathe a collective sigh of relief.
“If you need anything, there are always nurses walking around on this floor. They’ll call me if necessary.”
She smiles before leaving, picking up her clipboard as she goes.
“Thanks, Doctor!” Bucky calls after her, making both you and your Mom laugh softly.
The three of you remain still for a while, scared to make any sudden moves. Eventually, Bucky stretches his legs.
“I’m gonna grab some coffees. The usuals?”
You both nod at him.
“Be right back. Call me if you need anything.”
You can’t take your eyes off him as he leaves. You miss his warmth instantly.
“He’s a good guy,” your Mom whispers to you from the chair, where you’re perched on the armrest. She’s watching him go too.
You hum in agreement.
“He looks out for you.”
You hum in agreement once again, albeit this time a little quieter.
“You guys are close, these days.”
You inhale calmly.
“Yeah,” you murmur. “He’s got my back.”
“He likes you a lot.”
Before she can continue, your Dads eyes flutter open slowly. You both jump up, standing on either side of his bed.
“Hi, honey.”
“Hi, Dad.”
He blinks rapidly, trying to adjust to the harsh lighting.
“How you feeling, tough guy?”
He smiles softly, and the relief that fills your body is so overwhelming, you feel as if your legs might give out. You hold onto the metal bars of the bed for support, praying you stay upright.
He groans a little, throat hoarse.
“Water?”
Your Mom puts the straw in his mouth, nodding in approval as he sips.
“I’m good,” he croaks. “Got my girls with me.”
You both laugh.
“Jack, as much as I’d love to be your girl…”
Bucky is stood against the doorframe, keeping a careful distance from the family moment. Your Dad chuckles, shaking his head.
“You’re the prettiest one, Buck,” he says with as much conviction as he can muster. You all can’t help but laugh even more.
“How you feeling, honey?”
“Fine. Tired, though.”
“The Doctor said you’d most likely just sleep it off all day. Go back to sleep, if you want to. We’re right here.”
He nods, closing his eyes instantly. Your Mom settles back in the chair as Bucky hands her a coffee. He goes to give you yours, but you place it down on the side table.
“I’m gonna get some air. Be back in a minute.”
He gives you a look that says are you sure?, but you’re already out the door, not glancing back.
“She doesn’t like hospitals.”
Bucky nods in recognition, but can’t focus on anything except the severe levels of rising anxiety in his chest.
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
You can’t find your way out, and it’s making you panic more.
You’re throwing doors open, running down sets of stairs. Eventually, you see an exit, and barge through it with no regard for your surroundings. You’re at the front of the hospital, somehow making it to the main entrance.
Your lungs feel like they’re burning, white hot heat filling them with each weak inhale that you manage. The world is turning, suddenly, the entire axis of the Earth shifting on its head. Gasping, you grab onto a railing, desperate to just take a full breath and calm down.
The more you try to breathe, the worse things seem to get. It feels like the non existent walls are closing in, claustrophobia settling into your weary bones. Your legs buckle as your surroundings spin.
You don’t even register the impact of your knees hitting the ground, nor feel the pain that follows. You’re only minutely aware that you’re even on the floor because you can feel the warm tarmac underneath your palms.
Suddenly, there are two strong arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you into a solid chest. You relax against it, tired of fighting.
“It’s me, baby. Shit, it’s me.”
The voice is panicked, almost frantic in the way it hits your ears. There’s a hand stroking over your hair, strumming over your cheekbone, squeezing your shoulder. You wonder for a second if anyone has ever died from something like this. You feel as if you’re pretty close.
“You’ve got to start slowing your breathing, honey. Can you hear me?”
You think you nod. You assume you do, because the voice continues.
“Put your hand on my heart,” he says as he does it for you. “Just like that. Can you feel the beat of it, underneath your palm? It sounds like a drum, right? One two, one two, one two. Can you focus on it?”
You try to hone into the sound. You think you might be able to distantly feel it, where your hand meets his shirt.
“How about if we create a pattern together? And we’ll both follow it? Like this.”
The voice tilts your chin upwards, so you’re looking into his eyes.
“Bucky,” you choke out.
“Breathe when I breathe, okay? In, and out,” he inhales and exhales. “In, and out. There we go, atta girl. In, and out. You got it.”
You stay collapsed on the sidewalk for what feels like hours, breathing when he tells you to. You focus your vision on his ocean blue irises, finding your home in them. Eventually, you feel like you’re somewhat filling your lungs, and the world stops spinning.
“There she is.”
You drop your head onto his chest, warm tears soaking into the material of his shirt.
“I’ve got you, sweet girl. I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
You finally let yourself relax, sagging against his body as he holds you close.
“Fuck, you scared me. Are you hurt?”
You don’t even know the answer to that question yourself.
Bucky starts checking you over, looking for any visible injuries. When he reaches your knees, he inhales sharply.
“Shit, baby. We’ll have to get some antiseptic on these grazes of yours. You’ll have some badass bruises tomorrow, tough girl.”
You realise, slowly, where you are. You’re on the sidewalk outside the hospital, sat on the floor, wrapped in Bucky’s arms. You try to stand up too quickly, and wobble backwards.
“Woah, easy. There we go. Come sit over here with me.”
There’s a wooden bench not far from the entrance, tucked in between a hedge and a flowerbed. You take a seat, surveying the bloody mess of your knees as you do.
“They look worse than they are, baby. Promise. We’ll fix them when we go back upstairs.”
You rest your head on his shoulder as he throws an arm around you and tugs you into his side.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, hmm?”
“Don’t like hospitals,” you whisper. “Never have.”
“Is there… any particular reason? Or is it just one of those things?”
“Spent a lot of time here when I was younger,” you admit quietly. “I was kind of a sick kid. Had my own set of issues. Lots of appointments and stuff.”
Bucky nods against the top of your head, pressing a kiss into your hair.
“You never mentioned anything.”
“Didn’t think it was relevant.”
He hums.
“I’m sorry,” you confess. “For causing a scene. Being dramatic.”
“Honey,” he scolds. “You’re not dramatic. We’ve all got our fears, the things that make us tick. I promise you, no one thinks you’re dramatic. You feel how you feel, and that’s okay.”
You sigh in defeat, pulling your knees up under your chin.
“I think I was holding it together until I saw he was okay. When I knew he was fine, I just… crumbled.”
“That’s a perfect reflection of your character, you know. Keeping it together for everyone else.”
You chuckle dryly.
“Maybe. I suppose.”
✵ ✵ · ✵ * · ✵
The two of you sit outside for a while longer, breathing in the fresh air and revelling in each others embrace.
“We should probably go back up. They’re going to wonder where we are.”
You go to stand up, but Bucky pulls you back down onto the bench.
“Honey, wait. There’s something we need to… talk about, before we go.”
You turn to face him, and instantly tense up. He looks worried.
“Buck, what is it?”
“I… I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. Or how we’re meant to handle this. I really, really don’t know what the best angle is here.”
“You’re scaring me,” you say as you cradle his face. His scruff tickles your palm, and any other time, you both would have laughed.
“Before I came down to find you, your Mom raised a question with me.”
“… which was?”
He takes a deep breath. Exhales it shakily.
“She asked me how long you and I have been soulmates.”

tag list part one
@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk
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YEAAAAAAAH!!!
I forgot about this fic until this reblog so I just reread it and… why did this scenario literally happen to me irl last month. manifested it
How about: showing Frank Castle your new lingerie? It can be fluff, it can be smut, do with it what you please! <3

Spin For Me.
frank castle x female reader
warnings - allusions to sex. cursing.
valentines masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
“Keep your eyes closed, Frank. I’m serious.”
He’s grinning, both hands pressed to his face as proof. He’s sat on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for you to come out of the bathroom.
“Come on, baby. Don’t think I can wait any longer.”
“Good things come to those who wait!” you yell through the wood. Frank laughs, shaking his head.
You finally swing open the door, leaning against the frame with a hand on your hip. You take him in for a moment - the smile on his face, his relaxed stance, the way his sweatpants hug his thighs just right. Inhaling deeply, you clear your throat.
“Open ‘em, Frankie.”
Frank blinks in the lamplight, adjusting to the brightness. When his eyes land on you, his breath hitches in his throat. He rakes his gaze all the way down your body and back up again, slow and sticky sweet. His irises darken, lust blooming across his skin.
“Shit, baby.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Goddamn.”
You push yourself off the doorframe, standing up straight.
“Spin f’me.”
“Hmm?”
“Spin for me, baby. Let me see you.”
You twirl around gently, like a ballerina in a music box. When you stop in your place, Frank gestures with his finger for you to spin the other way.
It’s almost voyeuristic, the way he’s devouring you with his stare. You feel like predator and prey, in the moonlight of your bedroom.
“Prettiest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen.”
The lace hugs your body exactly, every dip and curve accentuated. The colour compliments your skin perfectly, and your mind is running a mile a minute wondering what Frank is going to do to you first.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Frankie.”
“You’re tellin’ me,” he chuckles. “Yes it is.”
He stands up finally, making his way over to you. You’re waiting for him to twist his fingers into the material and rip, like he usually does. Instead, he runs his fingertips over the lace trim on your chest, gentle and featherlight. He dances his touch down your sides and onto the top of your underwear, playing with the band softly.
“Want you to keep it on,” he murmurs. “Wanna see this lace against your skin when I eat you out.”
You exhale shakily, nodding your head.
“Plus,” he whispers, leaning down to mouth at your ear. “This pretty thing gives me something to hold onto. Better grip when I fuck you into the mattress.”
You drop your head forward onto his chest, bare skin warm against your forehead. You can feel the way his lungs are heaving, just as buzzed on the anticipation as you are.
“You’ve given me a gift, honey. Now let me give you one.”
He drops to his knees in front of you. You’ve never seen anything prettier.
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hi i just found your honey girl masterlist and read it all in one setting and phew that was sooo good. i’m new to your fics/account so i might’ve completely missed you already addressing this, but the last update was a while back, right? are you planning on continuing it? love your work <3
hi!! welcome!! so glad you liked honey girl. I am definitely planning on continuing it - the story isn’t finished, I promise.
i’ve just had stuff going on mixed with no motivation to write, so everything came to a standstill. hoping to get some writing done soon <3
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Hey, i’m not sure if you still write for 911, so if not it’s totally fine!! I’m just in desperate need of more Buck smut and the old cliche was SO GOOD. I’m not picky, but anything with like close/best friends to lovers or established relationship!! Anyways thank you, have a wonderful day/night!!
I do!! I looooove writing for buck and eddie. and I am such a sucker for best friends to lovers, it’s one of my favourites, if not my favourite trope. will start thinking of ideas <3
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hi omg i just finished your honey girl fic and i CANT WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER AHHH!!!!! it’s so rare to find great bucky x reader fics but you made it on the top of my list I LOVED ITTTT ♥️♥️♥️♥️
ahh I am so glad you loved it!! thank you for reading!! <3
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hi i reread honey girl ever so often when i feel the beachy mamma mia seaside town vibes and i NEED a continuation pls tell me when youre gonna drop it...
omg beachy mamma mia seaside town vibes… a perfect description.
there will be a continuation!! a half written chapter thirteen is in my drafts <3
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Hi!
Sorry to bug you about it, but have you got another update about when the next chapter of honey girl will be up? I’m obsessed with that fic! By far my fave on tumblr! Always worth the wait for a new chapter ❤️
xoxo
hi!! you’re so lovely - thank you!!
i’ll be entirely honest and say that I can’t give you an exact date, because I don’t have one. but I can assure you that honey girl is still ongoing - it isn’t finished!! there’s more story to be told <3
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OH EM GEE, LANDO WIN IN MONACO BABY!!!!! race was boring as expected bc monaco, but i still rocked with it 🙂↕️ anyway, slight man update, he took AGES to respond to me but that's like so fair and understandable because he was literally graduating. i congratulated him on graduating. when he finally responded he was like omg so sorry, but thesis was good. he was happy that he's done and then asked me how im feeling about senior year. i also finally told my mom about it because she was asking me about guys and stuff. and she was like so what was going on with that guy that offered to take you tea and stuff? and i was like 'LOL funny you should ask he did end up taking me stuff' and she kinda just let me yap about it and was like oh so like are you sure there wasnt anything there, and im like yup....so, theres that little update hehe - 🏁 anon
lando win in monaco!!! huge!!!!!!! let’s not utter a word about fucking canada
girl what do you mean “are you sure there wasn’t anything there and i’m like yup”… there is something there!! come on!!
try and stay in touch as much as possible, keep checking in with each other so you don’t drift apart because of the summer. it could be good for the two of you to maybe meet over the summer, without the pressures of school etc?? could be fun!!
moms are so funny about boy stuff sometimes. my mom randomly started interrogating me about a guy I slept with like 3 years ago the other day. I don’t know where that came from, but she’d clearly been thinking about it lmao
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mine too, mwahaha
imagining steve rodgers rn talking n flirting with other girls all night whilst out to get you back, then teaching him a lesson once youre home and not letting him touch you - only you can touch him and tease him, tell him when or even if he can cum
I haven’t forgotten my steve roots… promise. here’s a blurb for your sunday night with our golden boy. smut warning. <3
You’ve never seen Steve Rogers cry before.
You’re about to.
It’s his own fault. All of it. The flirting, the touching, the laughing at her jokes. Constantly looking over to see if you’re watching, smirking when he confirmed you were.
Maybe he underestimated you.
Or maybe he just lives for the punishment.
Because now he’s crying. Tied to your headboard, hands bound tightly. You know he could get out if he really wanted to - but you’ve sternly warned him against it. He wouldn’t dare. Not when you have that look in your eye.
You’re sat comfy at the end of the bed, body naked and legs spread. You’ve been touching yourself for what feels like hours, making him watch the way he made you watch him flirt all night. This isn’t about you reaching your climax - this is about retribution.
Revenge, if you will.
“This is what you get, Steve,” you tut as you squeeze your tits, never breaking eye contact with him. “The punishment fits the crime, don’t you think?”
When he doesn’t reply, you smack his thigh, revelling in the way he whines at the jolt of it.
“Use your words, Captain. America’s Sweetheart can’t string a sentence together now, huh?”
“Y-yes,” he stutters, mesmerised by this sudden change in your demeanour. “I deserve this.”
“Correct,” you grin.
You swipe your fingers through your arousal before crawling in between his legs, leaning up to smear it across his lips. His tongue darts out as if by instinct, unable to resist a taste of you.
“That’s all you get.”
When he bucks his hips up towards you, you push them down into the mattress forcefully, clicking your tongue.
“Behave, and don’t get greedy. You don’t deserve me tonight.”
You decide you’ll give it another twenty minutes, and then maybe you’ll let him get undressed. You feel a bit sorry for him all tied up fully clothed.
He’s crying, again.
It’s the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen.
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HI! When writing smut do you use the content labels (mature, etc) or do you just tell people it's 18+ with smut?
hi babe! i’ll be honest… i’m not totally clued up on content labels. I just make sure to label my fics with smut warnings in bold at the top, so they’re the first thing you see. and I try, if I can, to not put anything inappropriate above the cut, just in case.
I know a lot of writers (basically all the ones I follow) do the same thing as me. it’s your audiences responsibility to take accountability for what they’re reading, at the end of the day. but clear warnings at the top of fics definitely help!! and it’s just the right thing to do <3
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HIII! It’s been quite a bit, but i still go back to “that old cliché” every single time i open this app. I absolutely adore your writing and how you portray buck. In my opinion there’s not enough buck x reader fics- BUT YOUUUU LITERALLY are my all time favorite writer in general, and you make it so easy to re read! I was wondering if you could do something with Buck again, maybe with smut wrenched in there somewhere (also a fav of mine from you). I HOPE THIS REACHES YOU WELL AND THAT YOU’RE DOING JUST AS GOOD ! 💕💕💕 THANK YOU !
this is so lovely, my HEART !! you’re so sweet i’m giggling and kicking my feet over here
i’m always open to write more for buck. he’s genuinely one of my favourite characters to write for, because he’s such a good mix of goofy and sweet and complex and flawed. need to write more buck asap <3
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not sure how I missed this answer, but thank you!! I appreciate it so much. thanks for taking the time, you’re an angel <3
hi angels,
does anyone have any tips to treat migraines?? this one is kicking my ass big time. the internet says drink a coke, lie in a dark room, etc, but I thought i’d ask here in case anyone had any tricks or hacks that really work for them.
please please share your wisdom with me, i’ll be forever grateful <3
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oh how sweet, my heart :(
i'd like to order whiskey with mikey berzatto and 'don't go anywhere i can't follow', thank you <3
Follow You.
warnings - just a little hint at sexual content. and lots of fluff.
my first mikey fic!! I almost made this really sad, but decided against it. you should all be grateful. it was gonna be brutal. I adore mr bernthal and mikey too. <3
3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.
He'd made a promise to you, one night.
Tucked up in bed, sheets strewn across your bodies, limbs tangled, hearts content.
You always get clingy, in the afterglow. Like to plaster yourself to him, making sure he doesn't go far.
Mikey gets up to grab you some water, but you whine and pull him back to you by his wrist.
"Sweet girl," he chuckles. "I'm just going to the kitchen."
You smile and climb onto him from behind, wrapping your arms around his neck. He stands up and piggybacks you all the way across the apartment.
"Don't go anywhere I can't follow," you whisper in his ear, half sincere, half joking.
He sets you on the counter, brushing your hair back from your eyes.
"I won't, baby. I promise."
That promise seemed sacred to him.
He locked himself in the walk in refrigerator at The Beef, one afternoon.
The both of you were crying with laughter, in disbelief at the absurdity of the situation. It was just the two of you in the restaurant, everyone else at home.
"Michael! You haven't frozen to death, right?"
"Not yet, honey!"
You're scrambling around, trying to find a screwdriver or a hammer or a wrench or anything that could be remotely useful. Your sides hurt, a giggle escaping you every now and again.
Eventually, you break him out. A mixture of smacking the lock with a mallet and Mikey kicking it as hard as he could did the trick.
You throw your arms around him, both of you still laughing.
"What did I say, huh?" you tease, leaning up to press a kiss to his cold lips. "Don't go anywhere I can't follow. That includes walk in refrigerators."
"I won't do it again, I promise," he murmurs against your mouth, hands grabbing at your hips, seeking your body's warmth. He wraps himself around you, still chuckling.
Years later, gold bands on both of your ring fingers, you're sat out on the porch. Cigarette between your fingers, sleeves pulled down your wrists to shield yourself from the Chicago chill, your husband's chest warm and solid behind you.
He's been quiet for too long. It's unusual.
You turn in his arms to face him, fingertips stroking across his cheekbones.
"Mikey," you murmur under your breath. "You with me?"
He nods, blinking back to reality.
"Where did you go, huh?"
He smiles softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.
"Nowhere, baby. Just thinking."
"You made a promise, remember?"
"Hmm?"
"Don't go anywhere I can't follow. That includes in there."
You tap a finger against his temple. He laughs.
"I was thinking about how lucky I am. To have met you. To get to love you."
"I'm the lucky one," you whisper, choking back tears.
"That's up for debate, baby."
Snow starts to fall, flakes scattering your sweaters. You lean back into your husband, his strong arms wrapped around you tightly. The two of you watch the winter come in, bodies warm and hearts content.
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BRUH, man update!! so i had a dream about him and i need someone to analyze it that isnt one of my delusional friends, so it goes in your asks..... so basically i was at his house with all his family. and the main part was us planning a study date. and he was like so we can go study together and then as a study break we can go get coffee. and i was like yeah that works for me. but during that whole conversation i was like holding his hand or like playing with it. idk how to explain it. and then apparently i was like having dinner with his family and he was like super attentive and like checking on me, making sure I was okay. I want to say it was because I was with his family but like ??? anyway, idk what this means for me. the last thing i texted him about was about his thesis defense. i found out that he is staying in our home state for med school so now, in my head, he seems attainable. anyway thats that - 🏁 anon
girl… dreams mean something!! i’m not much into that kind of thing but I do often believe that our dreams tell us things we haven’t realised subconsciously sometimes. a dream isn’t nothing… ;)
and he’s staying in your state!! that’s big news!! that means he is for sure 100% attainable, but honestly, I think he was anyway.
go for it, girl. you have nothing to lose. and it could be something wonderful <3
more man updates please!! actually if anyone wants to give me their relationship updates… please feel free. I love this stuff. tell me your happy and your confused and everything in between, if you fancy it !! i’ll always listen (and give advice when you want it)
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Hi babes, I’m sorry about the migraine, I just read about it, what I normally do is take my meds, lay on my bed with all the lights off, put a cold towel on my head, put on some aroma therapy and try to sleep it off🫶🫶
thank you my love!! so so appreciated.
i’ll stick this response under the tag so me or anyone else who needs it can find it <3
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that makes me happy <3
i'd like to order whiskey with mikey berzatto and 'don't go anywhere i can't follow', thank you <3
Follow You.
warnings - just a little hint at sexual content. and lots of fluff.
my first mikey fic!! I almost made this really sad, but decided against it. you should all be grateful. it was gonna be brutal. I adore mr bernthal and mikey too. <3
3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.
He'd made a promise to you, one night.
Tucked up in bed, sheets strewn across your bodies, limbs tangled, hearts content.
You always get clingy, in the afterglow. Like to plaster yourself to him, making sure he doesn't go far.
Mikey gets up to grab you some water, but you whine and pull him back to you by his wrist.
"Sweet girl," he chuckles. "I'm just going to the kitchen."
You smile and climb onto him from behind, wrapping your arms around his neck. He stands up and piggybacks you all the way across the apartment.
"Don't go anywhere I can't follow," you whisper in his ear, half sincere, half joking.
He sets you on the counter, brushing your hair back from your eyes.
"I won't, baby. I promise."
That promise seemed sacred to him.
He locked himself in the walk in refrigerator at The Beef, one afternoon.
The both of you were crying with laughter, in disbelief at the absurdity of the situation. It was just the two of you in the restaurant, everyone else at home.
"Michael! You haven't frozen to death, right?"
"Not yet, honey!"
You're scrambling around, trying to find a screwdriver or a hammer or a wrench or anything that could be remotely useful. Your sides hurt, a giggle escaping you every now and again.
Eventually, you break him out. A mixture of smacking the lock with a mallet and Mikey kicking it as hard as he could did the trick.
You throw your arms around him, both of you still laughing.
"What did I say, huh?" you tease, leaning up to press a kiss to his cold lips. "Don't go anywhere I can't follow. That includes walk in refrigerators."
"I won't do it again, I promise," he murmurs against your mouth, hands grabbing at your hips, seeking your body's warmth. He wraps himself around you, still chuckling.
Years later, gold bands on both of your ring fingers, you're sat out on the porch. Cigarette between your fingers, sleeves pulled down your wrists to shield yourself from the Chicago chill, your husband's chest warm and solid behind you.
He's been quiet for too long. It's unusual.
You turn in his arms to face him, fingertips stroking across his cheekbones.
"Mikey," you murmur under your breath. "You with me?"
He nods, blinking back to reality.
"Where did you go, huh?"
He smiles softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.
"Nowhere, baby. Just thinking."
"You made a promise, remember?"
"Hmm?"
"Don't go anywhere I can't follow. That includes in there."
You tap a finger against his temple. He laughs.
"I was thinking about how lucky I am. To have met you. To get to love you."
"I'm the lucky one," you whisper, choking back tears.
"That's up for debate, baby."
Snow starts to fall, flakes scattering your sweaters. You lean back into your husband, his strong arms wrapped around you tightly. The two of you watch the winter come in, bodies warm and hearts content.
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