yourvanishinglove - Tumblr blog

[yourvanishinglove]

Twenty Years Later - Joel Miller x F!Reader

Plot: It’s been twenty years since Joel and Y/n parted ways with a farewell so crushing, they were sure it would last forever. Now, fate brings them back together in the form of a 14-year old named Ellie and forces them to set aside their past in order to secure the future.

Warnings: M for violence, gore, language, implied smut, and adult themes (16+)

playlists

————

Chapter One: Reunited

Chapter Two: Strangers In The Night

Chapter Three: Out On The Town

Chapter Four: Luck

Chapter Five: Soundtrack of Life

Chapter Six: Road Trip

Chapter Seven: Hands

Chapter Eight: Someone’s Something

Chapter Nine: Dry Your Tears

Chapter Ten: September 26th, 2003

Chapter Eleven: Almost

Chapter Twelve: (coming soon!)

Chapter Thirteen: (coming soon!)

Chapter Fourteen: (coming soon!)

Chapter Fifteen: (coming soon!)

Chapter Sixteen: (coming soon!)

Chapter Seventeen: (coming soon!)

[yourvanishinglove]

Wowwwww! I’m sorry for being so inactive but thank you so much! Thank you to everyone who got me to 500 likes!

[yourvanishinglove]

“You were amazing.”

*photo from flaminhotcevans on twitter*

Author’s note: It’s been a long time since I’ve posted! I think over a year. I’m really just a lurker and reader on here lol. This is a just a blurb I thought of when I was in my feelings. Something I kind of wish I had when I was a musician. 

Warnings: none, just one mention of sex. 

Hope you enjoy :3

“Is there anything else I can get you, ma’am?” The florist, Sabine, asks me. She finishes preparing the bouquet of red roses and hands them to me.

“That’s everything, thank you.” I hand her my credit card.

“So, what’s the special occasion?”

“My boyfriend has a performance tonight.”

“Really? Is he a singer?” She types in the cost of the flowers into her register and swipes my card.

“No, he’s a trumpet player. Jazz.”

“That’s amazing. My husband loves jazz music. What’s his name? Maybe we can make it to another show of his.” I smile, so proud of Nick and everything he’s accomplished.

“Nick Vaughan.”

“Nick…Vaughan.” She repeats as she writes it down on a sheet of paper. “Great. My husband and I will look him up.”

“Thanks so much. He’ll love that. And thank you for the flowers.”

“You’re welcome dear,” she says as she hands me my credit card and receipt. “Have a wonderful evening.”

“You too.” I say and walk out of the flower shop, and head toward the concert hall.

It was Nick’s first concert at the new concert hall in the city. He signed a residency deal where he’d play two shows a month. He was so excited but it also made him very anxious. He’d practice for hours every day, leaving our shared apartment around noon and not coming back until midnight.

I’m so proud of him, but I missed him. By the time he came home, I was asleep and would only wake up when I felt him get into bed beside me. And since he was so exhausted, he fell asleep almost immediately and he’d sleep until an hour before he’d leave again for rehearsal and I already left for work.  

So, I decided to surprise him with these roses. Musicians get roses after a performance, don’t they? Then, I’d take him to dinner at the Italian restaurant where we made our relationship official and finally end the night in a five star hotel room. Oh, and lots of sex.

I make it to the concert hall and it’s packed. I wonder if I can see him before it starts. But then that would ruin the surprise of the flowers. I decide to just go in and get a good seat. I hand the usher my ticket and make my way to the middle rows, where he can see me without me being too close.

At 7 p.m. sharp, the lights dimmed and people settled in their seats.

The jazz band came out and we stood and clapped for them. Then Nick came out in a nice suit, holding his trumpet. I clapped for him, trying not to cheer louder than anyone else, so I wouldn’t embarrass him. He stood in front of a microphone and looked at the crowd. I waved, hoping he’d see me. He scans the crowd and when he sees me, our eyes lock and he smiles. 

“Thank you all for coming this evening. I’m Nick Vaughan. Tonight we have a wonderful performance prepared for you.”

I watch him glow as he speaks. He’s happy. All his hard work is paying off.

He finishes his introduction and starts his performance with his band.

He was amazing. You could tell he loved being up on that stage. His band followed his lead and supported him. People in the audience loved it too. People saw just how amazing he was.

At the end of the performance, the audience gives him a standing ovation. I stand with everyone and cheer Nick on. He bows and smiles.

When the audience clears out, I go backstage and see Nick putting his trumpet in its case. He’s talking to the other musicians, thanking them for the night.

I hide the roses behind my back and approach him.

I clear my throat. “Mr. Vaughan?” He turns to me and smiles.

“I’m a huge fan.”

“Really?” He smirks. “Thank you very much.”

I nod and pull out the roses. “For you, my amazing trumpeter.”

“Ah, thank you baby.” He takes the roses and pecks my lips.

“You were amazing, bubba.” I put my hands on his shoulders. “Everyone loved you.” I kiss him back, a little longer than the first kiss he gave me. I spent weeks without kissing him the way I wanted.

I pull away. “I want to take you on a date.”

“You do?” He puts a hand on my waist.

I nod. “I have a reservation at Dominick’s. And then we can go to our room at the Ritz.”

Nick’s eyes widen. “The Ritz?” He stutters. “That’s…too much.”

“I got a bonus at work. I’ve been planning tonight ever since you told me you signed the contract. Tonight is about you and your hard work. You earned this.”

“Thank you.” He kisses me again. “I have a couple of people to talk to  before I leave, is that okay?”

“Of course.” I nod. “I’ll wait in the lobby, okay?”

“Alright. Thank you for coming. I love you.”

“I love you too.” I kiss him one last time before heading to the lobby.

***

I stand in the lobby for maybe 15 minutes before Nick comes with his trumpet case and the roses in his hands.

“Sorry that took so long. A journalist wanted to interview me.”

“Really? Which publication?”

“Washington Post.”

“Oh, my goodness, Nick. That is amazing!”

He smiles at my excitement but I know if I don’t show my excitement, he won’t show his. He had the habit of undermining his own success. Any praise anyone gave him, he’d casually find a way to discount it.

I pulled him out of plenty of corners when he thought he should just go back to teaching private lessons instead of pursuing performance. I was proud to be his cheerleader because I knew that when I needed a cheerleader, he’d be mine.

I pull his trumpet case out of his hand, knowing he’d reach for it.

“Ah ah ah. I’m carrying it. I won’t hurt your precious baby. Now... we have a reservation to go to. Come on.” I present my free hand for him to hold.

He chuckles and takes my hand.

“Now, let’s celebrate.”

[yourvanishinglove]

this legit made me cry...this is so good. Benedict Stan forever

they’re not the only ones ii | benedict bridgerton

Summary: 4 times you and Benedict are confronted about your feelings for one another and the 1 time you confront each other

Pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Warning(s): another 4 + 1 scenario (I kind of wanted to keep it consistent to the first part), more pining, fluff, some angst, sheer stupidity…you know the rest

A/n: hi darlings! I was so floored by the love on the first part to this fic that I decided to write another! Thank you all for your kindness and I hope you enjoy! (I’m also totally open to writing a part 3 should anyone want it)…

read part one: here & read part three: here

i

(y/n)

“This will be you some day.” Daphne smirks, holding her son August who’s placed perfectly on her lap. She bounces her knee up and down gently, calming him. “Raising a Bridgerton baby.”

You let out a cough of surprise, eyes blinking rapidly. “What?”

“You heard me perfectly.” She hums in amusement. Daphne loves that she can have this effect on you.

Suddenly a spluttering mess, you fumble with your words, struggling to form a coherent sentence. Defeated, you sigh resting on, “excuse me?”

“Oh please,” she shrugs nonchalantly. “Don’t act like this won’t be you and Benedict in the near future, happily married, and raising a family together.” She adds.

“I—“ you begin, but you’re at a loss for words. As much as it pains you to think about something that will likely never happen, the thought of starting a family with Benedict makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Now, Daphne Bridgerton is far from stupid. Quite the opposite really. She knows what you and her second eldest brother share is not platonic. This is not how just friends behave. She’s heard each of you utter that phrase or something else along those lines so many times that she’s surely lost count, and yet, there’s something about hearing you say it this time, that feels oddly different.

“Daph. I promise.” You murmur quietly, trying desperately to convince her. “Benedict and I are simply friends, as we will always be.”

Her eyes narrow. Observing you keenly, she notices that even you don’t believe what you’re saying. You’re fiddling with your dress, gaze refusing to meet hers, your attention focused solely on baby Auggie, who in the midst of your conversation, had been placed on the floor, and is now sat happily playing with a stuffed toy.

Your behaviour is uncharacteristic. And that furthers her curiosity. Of all the times you’ve had this exact conversation with her, you’ve always been assertive, confidence and surety radiating from your tone. But this time, you sound unsure of yourself, and quiet, a little too quiet.

“You’re in love with him.” She smiles, beaming with pride.

“Daphne—“ you try to interrupt, but she waves you off with the flick of her hand.

“You’ve always been in love with him,” she’s pacing now, deep in thought. “Of course you have. But now,” she turns to you, her eyes burning into yours, “you know of it. You know that what you are feeling is love.”

You blink in surprise, eyes lowering bashfully. Had you really been that obvious?

“It is alright to admit it.” Her gaze softens on your nervous form. She never meant to make you feel uncomfortable. Daphne wants nothing more than to reassure you, to encourage you. “This is a good thing (Y/n).” She says. “A very good thing.”

Her voice carries with a poise of certainty to it, like she knows she could never be wrong about the outcome of your feelings. But, as your heart rate picks up and your stomach churns with nerves, you find it difficult to take solace in this conversation.

“If this is such a positive revelation,” your gaze meets hers, your posture tensing with the anxiety that comes with your words, “then why do I feel as if my world is crashing in upon me?”

She smiles at you in understanding. She had felt the same way with Simon. “Love,” she rests a hand on your arm gently, seating herself next to you, “is wonderful in that way.”

“How so?” You ask, pulling yourself to the edge of her sitting room couch in genuine curiosity.

“Well,” her lips shape upward adoringly, “it makes you feel happiness like you’ve never felt before,” she pauses thinking about her next words carefully, “but it is also equally terrifying. Because when it’s so new and you’re still so unsure about everything, that is when the fear of losing that love is the greatest. It is truly life changing.”

Her words resonate with you instantly, knowing exactly what she means. Loving Benedict, even if in secret and unrequited, has been the best thing you’ve ever done, the most wonderfully life altering thing you’ve experienced. It’s also been the scariest, and yet, you wouldn’t change it for anything.

A silence washes over you both, Daphne allowing you a moment to soak it all in. It can be overwhelming, as she’s well aware, and based on the look on your face, you’re more than lost in thought. Your eyebrows are creased, like you’re running over something in your mind, like you’re trying to say something, but you just can’t figure out how.

“I’m afraid.” You finally admit to her. “What if he doesn’t feel what I feel?”

Daphne coos at that, she’s determined to make you see. “Benedict loves you more than I ever thought a person capable of loving another. Of that I am certain.” She says it with so much wit and charm that you feel yourself start to believe her.

A flicker of hope is forming in your chest, a warmth that hugs you tightly, that makes you feel whole. Benedict loves me, you think. Could it really be true?

“I almost envy you really.” Daphne cuts in, tone teasing and playful.

Tilting your head in confusion, you ask, “Why?”

There’s an almost sorrowful look that crosses her face, never one of jealousy, but there’s something yearning in it that you can’t seem to place.

“I’ve met my fair share of couples, married or otherwise” she starts, “and not one of them looks at their spouse the way you and Benedict look at each other.” Her brows furrow, lips pursed in thought. “Not Anthony and Kate, not Colin and Penelope, not Simon and me. What you have, it’s different.”

Different, is the word that stands out to you. Your love for Benedict is special, as is his for you.

You only hope he returns your affections.

And as if she’s reading your mind, she sends you a comforting smile. “With every breath in my body and thought in my mind, (Y/n), I know that Benedict feels the same as you do.”

You chuckle slightly to yourself. Much like her brother, Daphne Bridgerton has always had a poetic way with words, one that has your heart beating and your thoughts swirling.

But it’s her next words that stick with you the most:

“Never doubt that.”

ii

benedict

The afternoon sun beats down on Benedict’s skin, a sweat forming on his brow. He’s not sure if it’s the heat or his nerves that’s causing him to feel so distressed. Maybe it’s both, he thinks. He hadn’t wanted to visit Anthony today, nor any other day really. Ever since his wedding to Kate, his older brother has been insufferable with him, talking non-stop of marriage this, and marriage that. It’s been driving Benedict mad.

And if he’s being honest with himself, which he likes to think he usually is, it’s not the idea of marriage itself that puts him off. It’s the fact that the only person he wants to marry is his best friend, the woman who has been by his side since he was a mere child. You.

Anyone else could never compare. They could never make him happy. And that terrifies him.

“Brother,” Anthony tuts, breaking Benedict’s train of thought, “for someone so gifted, you really are terribly dim.”

His eyes find Benedict’s easily, a glint of apprehension resting within them. Benedict is nervous, blatantly so, and Anthony has never felt better for relishing in it. He’s going to have fun with this. Or so he thinks…

“Unfortunately,” the younger brother responds, fiddling with the glass in his hand, “I do not catch your meaning.”

“Ah,” Anthony jests, “but we both know that to be untrue. I can see it written all over your face, you’re more than aware. You know exactly of what we speak.”

Benedict doesn’t like where this conversation is headed. The direction alarms him, all while causing his heart to race and his palms to clam up.

You, he supposes. The viscount is trying to get him to admit his love for you. And the thing is, if Anthony had been straight with him, serious enough to ask him of his feelings as opposed to turning to teasing and belittling his intelligence, then maybe Benedict would find himself being much more receptive.

But as for right now, all he can find himself being, is annoyed. He’s had this conversation one too many times over the past couple of weeks to find it anything less than frustrating.

With an apparently loud huff, he chooses to no longer hide his frustration. “Then why did you entertain my pretense brother,” he shoots, “if you knew from the beginning what this is about?”

“Benedict,” Anthony’s voice lowers in an attempt to calm him. He may have gone too far, he realizes. Although in his defence, Anthony has never known his oldest brother to be quick to react to anything. He’s aways been the calmest of the bunch, a thinker, a problem resolver, never a fighter.

But, he supposes, he’s never challenged Benedict with anything where love has been involved. Love, as he’s personally experienced, heightens anyone’s emotions, especially when it is called into question.

So, they find themselves in this more than uncomfortable position, standing in Anthony’s garden, as Kate attends to some of their flowers, a mere few feet from the brewing conflict. Her ears perk at the sound of Benedict’s voice, low, eerily calm, and suddenly very controlled.

“Do not play games with me Anthony.” He warns. And for the first time in his life, Benedict is not willing to go away quietly. He does not want to play the peace maker.

This forces Anthony to be the one to back down, something he is certainly not used to. “I apologize.” He relents. “I am only worried for you.”

A scoff releases itself from his lips, ocean eyes meeting amber. “Don’t.” His tone is laced with venom. “I never asked for you to be.”

And this is where Anthony can stand back no longer, pride and protective nature outweighing anything else. He can’t let his brother wallow like this.

“Jesus Benedict,” Anthony’s brown orbs are lit with passion, “you’re so in love with her and yet so unwilling to let her know of it. Why?” He pleads.

The glass in his hand feels heavy, not wanting it to slip from his grasp, he sets it down. Benedict’s voice is quiet now, his shoulders slumping forward as his eyes focus on the ground at his feet. “Because she does not feel the same. And I cannot lose her.”

Twelve words. Those twelve words are enough to cause both Kate and Anthony’s hearts to twist. How can he possibly think this way? How can he not see just how in love with him you are?

“Benedict.” Kate’s voice is warm, much warmer than Anthony’s had been. She’s not teasing him, not toying with his emotions. She’s taking this seriously. “You cannot truly believe that.”

“I have no reason to believe otherwise.”

And while Kate’s heart clenches further at Benedict’s admission, Anthony’s does not. He feels irritated. “Then you are wrong, and a fool.” He spits. “I understand what you are going through Benedict, I do, and I know how difficult this seems.”

Benedict’s eyes shut, his lips pulling into a grimace. “No.” He seethes. “You cannot fathom how this feels.”

“Then tell us.” Kate urges, placing a warning hand on Anthony’s arm, daring him to say another word.

“When I’m around her, I cannot breathe,” he starts, his eyes darting between his brother and his sister in law in pain. “I cannot think, I cannot sleep, and I cannot eat. I am consumed with her, consumed by her.” His breath is shaky, his voice cracking. “Do you understand how terrifying that is?”

“I do not.” Kate shakes her head in sympathy. “Explain it to me.” She smiles softly.

Benedict nods, trying to contain his breathing. He’s overwhelmed, never having admitted this to anyone aloud before. He feels like he might collapse in on himself. But eventually, he finds his voice, allowing a deep breath to fill his lungs with air.

“For years I have pushed my feelings down, suppressed them until even I believed they did not exist. I told myself that our friendship would be enough to keep me happy.” He pauses, thinking for a moment. “As long as it made her happy. But it’s not.”

Beside Kate, Anthony blinks in surprise. Benedict had never been this open with him before. Maybe jesting his brother had been the wrong approach. He should have known that a sensitive soul like Benedict’s required a softer touch. But he had been so hellbent on convincing his brother to tell you of his feelings that he had forgotten that.

“How do you feel about her?” Kate poses, and it takes Benedict a moment, because it’s the first time anyone has actually asked him that question. Most of these conversations had resulted in someone telling him how he feels about you, or how you feel about him, never simply asking. It nearly stumps him.

“I’m in love with her.” He says. That much is obvious to everyone. “So much so that my heart burns,” he continues, voice breaking slightly. “And every time I think about telling her, my stomach twists, and I feel my chest tighten in panic. Because as much as I want her, as much as I love her, I cannot risk losing her.”

“You have every right to feel afraid Benedict.” Kate assures, understanding how overwhelming this must feel.

But unlike her relationship with Anthony, and the fears she held towards their love, she knows that it’s different for Benedict. Because you and Benedict have been best friends for over two decades. There is much more for him to lose than was at risk for her and Anthony. Of that, she is well aware. Of that, she thinks Anthony forgets.

It explains his erratic behaviour perfectly, Benedict’s uncharacteristic anxiety overtaking his usually rational, care free, and calm demeanor.

“Thank you.” Benedict relaxes for what feels like the first time in a long time.

“There is no need for thanks,” Kate waves him off, her eyes searching his, “But I want you to know that you do not have to be afraid.”

And for whatever reason, Benedict feels himself calming at her words. He believes her. And as his gaze drifts towards Anthony, he takes in his appearance. Anthony’s lips are pulled into a thin line, and he looks like he’s trying, struggling to get something out. Nodding his head in encouragement, Benedict smiles. It’s okay, he tells his brother wordlessly, eyes communicating perfectly. I’m okay.

Allowing himself a change to breathe, Anthony exhales, processing the words he’s about to say.

“Fear is a rational emotion to be experiencing.” He finally asserts. “But Kate is right.”

“As she always is.” Benedict chuckles jokingly, his mood lifting.

Anthony laughs at that, eyes crinkling at the sides. “You need not worry.” He assures. “(Y/n) loves you more than life itself.”

Benedict’s breath hitches, hopeful he asks, “You truly think so?”

The eldest Bridgerton grins, although never more serious in his life, he says, “I would never lie to you brother.” And Benedict knows that to be true. “Of that, I am certain.”

iii

(y/n)

A game of cards with the Bridgerton women as well as Lady Danbury and Miss Penelope Featherington of course, is always a worthwhile affair, albeit sometimes a tiring one. Especially when the conversation of the table comes to talk of marriage.

You, Eloise, and Penelope are the only unmarried women in the room, much to your dismay, turning the conversation towards the three of you. Leaving you even worse off, is the fact that the youngest Featherington’s affections are clearly known. She will marry Colin one day, which makes her certain match, less interesting to discuss.

And try as she may, Violet Bridgerton cannot for the life of her get Eloise to budge on the idea of marriage, allowing her to be narrowly in the clear of said conversation, despite some sparse comments being thrown her way every once in a while. (The former viscountess simply cannot help herself)…

Unfortunately, that leaves you, wide open for an incoming interrogation.

“So,” Lady Danbury grins holding her cards close to her chest, “Miss (L/n). How are you and Mr. Bridgerton faring? Is an engagement on the horizon?”

Whereas before your conversation with Daphne a few days ago you would have been flustered, this time you take it in stride. “I do not know Lady Danbury.” You smile politely. Two can play at this game. “Such things are out of my control.”

Across from you, Daphne beams with pride, pleased with your answer. But beside you, Eloise nearly chokes on her drink. Since when had you gained such confidence?

“So you have told him then?” Lady Danbury continues to pry. “Of your feelings for him.”

“No.” You keep your head high, placing a card down that inches you closer and closer to victory. “He is unaware.”

“For the moment.” Penelope quietly giggles to Eloise, and you almost miss it. But the comment makes you smile. If your feelings for Benedict are truly returned, then you suppose she is right.

The table goes around taking their turns in ease, Violet Bridgerton seeing this as an opportunity to observe you. Something is different, she thinks. On the outside, you seem more at peace. Maybe finally accepting your feelings as such has brought you some solace, but, she wonders, how are you feeling on the inside?

“Isn’t that right mama?”

“Pardon me.” Lady Bridgerton’s eyes snap up to meet Daphne’s. “I mustn’t have been paying attention. I apologize dearest.”

“Ah.” She nods. “I was simply complimenting (Y/n)’s skills when it comes to playing card games such as these. She’s a formidable opponent, wouldn’t you agree?”

Violet smiles warmly. “Yes. She most certainly is.”

Lady Danbury chuckles, taking her turn earnestly. She directs her attention to Lady Bridgerton. “That must be why your son is so entranced by her.” She hums. “One of the many reasons of course.”

Lady Danbury can see the end of this game in sight. There’s not much else that she hates more than losing, but if she must, she supposes the best outcome is to lose to you.

“That,” A wicked grin spreads on your face, lips pulling upward in victory as you place down the winning card. “You would have to ask the man himself.” You shoot a playful and challenging look in Lady Danbury’s direction, musing, “Though, I must say I should hope that besting you lot at a measly game of cards is not my most defining nor cherished character trait.”

Kate snorts at the exchange, amused by your sudden tenacity, garnering the attention of the other women at the table.

“Whatever is so funny?” Lady Danbury eyes Anthony’s wife.

Kate flashes her a toothy grin, comfortable joking around the older woman, after many months spent in her company. “It’s not often that you find yourself put in your place Lady Danbury.” The former Miss Sharma raises a brow in utter bemusement. “Not many have the courage to attempt it, let alone follow through with it.”

“I agree.” Lady Danbury hums. “Though I suppose this time, it was warranted. You are one most vexingly wonderful woman Miss (L/n).” She smiles at you, a respect flowing through her tone. “I can see very much so why Benedict Bridgerton is so besotted with you.”

“As do we all.” The women around the table muse in harmony. They are more than excited at the prospect of a relationship between you and Benedict, but none is happier than Violet. Her eyes meet yours, and she sends you the most motherly, gentle smile you think you’ve ever received. There’s something adoring it in, you recognize, beautifully sweet and nuanced. Violet Bridgerton knows you better than just about anyone, behind maybe only Benedict.

Sometimes you forget just how long you’ve known her. She’d practically raised you along with her eight other children, caring for you equally and affectionately. And as you sit here, eyes pouring into each other’s souls, soft smiles grow wide on your faces.

You don’t need her to voice it to know what she’s thinking. I love you, she mouths silently. You hope she can tell that you’re saying it back.

She does, she knows. You can see it in the way she’s smiling at you.

The gesture makes your heart sing in serenity. It makes you feel safe. Because if things with Benedict don’t work out the way you would like them to, the Bridgerton’s will always be your family. By marriage or otherwise.

iv

benedict

The sound of laughter floats through the summer breeze at Bridgerton House, the young children’s giggles intertwining with your own. Keeping Gregory and Hyacinth entertained has always been a task and a half, but you make it look so easy, so effortless.

Sitting on one of the infamous garden swings, Benedict rocks himself back and forth slowly, taking in the image before him. He can’t seem to take his eyes off you.

“Wonderful, isn’t she brother?” Eloise’s deep rasp interjects. When he doesn’t answer, a love struck smile resting on his face, she continues, “You’re practically drooling.”

“I know.” He sighs dreamily. He almost can’t believe he’s allowing himself to act this way, so openly besotted, when you could easily turn around to see him staring. But Benedict can’t bring himself to care. After his conversation with Anthony, and after admitting everything aloud, he’s finding it harder and harder to hide how he feels. “I cannot help but watch her. I cannot help but hope that one day, that will be her and I, running around with our children.”

Eloise hums, reaching up to feel his forehead with the back of her hand. “Are you sure you’re alright brother?” She asks. “I’ve never seen you act such a way, let alone day dream about being a father and raising children.”

“I am in love El.” Benedict shrugs, saying it as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. “Besides,” his eyes flick over to you and his younger siblings, “this is hardly the first time I have thought about something like this.”

Eloise feels her lips pull into a soft smile, thinking back to your card game at Lady Danbury’s. It appears that you’re not the only one who has finally realized their feelings. Benedict is not only openly admitting it to her, as you did mere days ago, but he’s also not trying to disguise it.

“I like this side of you.” She comments.

Benedict chuckles. “As do I.” He says, grin lopsided. “I rather enjoy this feeling.”

“Falling in love?” She suggests.

“Falling in love with her.” He corrects. It wouldn’t feel right with anyone else.

“Mmm.” Eloise hums in contentment, a warm gentle breeze ruffling her chestnut locks. “You know she feels just the same as you do?”

Benedict’s eyes meet hers, blue catching blue. “As everyone keeps telling me.” He trails off sighing, “that doesn’t seem to make me any less afraid.”

“I suppose I understand.” Eloise nods sympathetically, gaze following the sound of your giggles. Her eyes rest on you. Selfishly, Eloise can’t wait for you and Benedict to be married and have children. She would never tell anyone this, but you two have always been her favourite people, never judging her character and never stopping her from becoming who she wants to be.

It’s on these very swings that she’s had so many midnight talks with the two of you, like therapy almost. Eloise can’t wait to have you as a sister, officially, she thinks. Because really, you’ve been her sister ever since she’s known you. And when you have children, she can spoil them rotten.

“You should tell her Benedict.” Her voice rumbles, yet there’s a fondness to it that he adores. Benedict sometimes forgets just how much Eloise loves you too. She only wants you to be happy. “(Y/n) will not turn you away. She is equally in love with you as you are with her. It’s annoying really.”

“I’m sure you’ve suffered greatly for it.” Benedict sends her a teasingly cheeky grin.

“Well, despite your sarcasm, I have.” Eloise fails to convince him. She even fails to convince herself. “I mean, you should have seen her at Lady Danbury’s ladies night. That was comical.” And before Eloise can continue to run her mouth further, she slaps her palm to her face, shutting herself up.

Benedict’s eyes narrow in curiosity, ears suddenly perked and ready to listen. “And what exactly happened at Lady Danbury’s?”

Eloise’s brows furrow in concentration. “No.” She mutters, determined to keep quiet. “I should never have said anything.”

“Eloise.” Benedict’s tone is taunting, melodic.

“No.” She refuses, very much struggling.

“You can tell me.” He urges.

“I cannot.”

“You can.”

“I mustn’t.” Her breath hitches.

Benedict warns, “Eloise.” He’s nearly pleading. “Tell me.”

And it’s the utter look of bewilderment in his eyes that gets her to break, spilling the events of that night. “The women were teasing her incessantly, about you.”

Benedict’s eyes turn towards you, taking you in. He’s not surprised to hear that. It’s been happening all your life, the subtle and not so subtle jibes. “Lady Danbury was the highest offender I presume?”

Eloise nods in response. “Most often when we tease her, she refutes it. But this time she didn’t.” Eloise is talking faster than she’s used to, excited to get everything out. “She simply sat there and admitted her feelings to all of us.” Her eyes search for her brother’s. “She practically told everyone but you.”

Flicking his gaze away from his sister, he relaxes at her words, shoulders no longer tensed and jaw no longer clenched. Benedict allows the warmth to spread throughout his body, his heart beating in happiness.

He has spent so much time refusing to believe what he’s heard, trying desperately not to acknowledge the gossip, that you love him too. He’s done everything, tried rationalizing every scenario to explain why you could never feel the same. And yet every piece of evidence he’s gathered, tells him that you do.

You love him. And he loves you.

Now all that’s left to do, is tell you…

+ i

(y/n) and benedict

Another night, another London society ball. It almost scares you how accustomed you’ve become to attending these functions, and yet, that doesn’t stop you from seeking refuge in Lady Danbury’s library. Hiding away has become your standard move for when you want to avoid the dance floor.

And maybe also when you want to avoid a certain Bridgerton…

It’s not that you don’t want to see Benedict, because you do, desperately. It’s just that, as the days pass, and your feelings for him continue to grow, you’re finding it harder and harder to pretend you’re not in love with him. And you think he’s starting to notice.

Ever since he’d come back from visiting with Anthony and Kate a couple of weeks ago, he’s been acting strange. You suppose you have been too, but it feels weird. There’s been a mutual share of awkwardness between you, and you don’t know how to shake it.

Sighing, you turn the page of your book, having reread the same lines over and over for the last number of minutes. You’d lost count how many times you had to go back, too lost in your thoughts to truly focus on the novel in your hands.

You’re ready to give up, huff in defeat and make your way back to the ballroom, until:

“Pride and Prejudice?” Benedict muses, his voice startling you. He’s leaning his body on the wooden door frame casually, blue eyes drifting. “Again?” He asks, not needing your confirmation to know he’s right.

Your gaze runs down his form in awe, his face lit beautifully by the glow of the fireplace. He looks ethereal, angelic, you think.

“You know me too well.”

Benedict smiles, cheeks illuminated in wonderment. There’s a teasing hint to his tone. “I should hope so,” he says, “after so many years.”

You chuckle. It’s crazy to think about how long you’ve known him, how long he’s been the most important person in your life. Because if you’re being honest, you genuinely cannot remember a time when that was not the truth. You don’t know what you’d do if you ever lost him.

Benedict coughs lightly, taking one step closer to you. “You are a hard woman to find.”

“Purposefully.” You tell him. “I have never been an adequate dancer.” There’s a twinkle in your eye that he cannot shake, it’s effervescent. “But surely you did not come here to discuss my lack of skills regarding the finer arts.”

“No.” He agrees with a laugh. “Although I think you to be perfection in any form, dancing or otherwise.”

Your breath hitches at his words, heart beginning to race. This feels like something. You’re toeing the line now, dangerously so. “You mustn’t flatter me Ben, my ego is rather well fed as it is.”

He likes this, whatever it is. Even as you’re both inching closer to blurring your friendship, getting closer to never being able to go back, you’re still joking with him, calling him Ben. You’re the only person he allows to do so.

“Something is troubling you.” Your voice cuts through his thoughts.

“No.” He ignores your concern, blinking away the fear. He swallows a lump in his throat, suddenly the room feels very hot. He pulls at the collar of his suit anxiously.

“Benedict.” You plead, your hand reaching up to touch his arm in reassurance. If anyone were to walk in right now, it would surely result in scandal. The two of you are alone and unchaparoned, touching, but however gently, it could ruin you. “You can tell me.”

He continues to ignore your soft pleas, breathing rushed, coming in short and quick bursts. Is this what a panic attack feels like? He doesn’t know. He’s never felt anything like this before. All he can register is your touch, your hands running down his body, your breathing working to calm him down.

“Breathe Benedict.” You coo softly. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

He does as you say, relaxing immensely at your guidance, until his breathing is even. In and out, he hears you say. In and out.

A brief chuckle breaks its way from his throat. He almost wants to laugh at how pathetic he feels. But all he can think about, is you. If he had trouble believing you loved him before, he doesn’t now. He can feel it radiating from your body. He’s never felt more loved by anyone before.

With his voice cracking at the worst of times, he finds himself finally able to say, “you really are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

And he wants to kick himself for it, because of course that would throw you off guard.

Your eyes widen in shock, hand dropping suddenly from his arm. That was not what you were expecting him to say. And judging by the look on his face, he’s just as surprised.

But when he notices the doubt that crosses your features, he abdandons his embarrassment. “You do not believe me.” He states in realization. “You do not think yourself to be beautiful.” It breaks his heart to see the recognition flash in your eyes. How could you possibly think that way?

With a shaky breath, all you can think to do is say his name. “Benedict.” It’s the only thing on your mind. Benedict, Benedict, Benedict.

“But you are.” He mutters in disbelief. “I have never met someone so frustratingly breathtaking.”

Your heart lurches. This is getting too close for comfort. “You should not say things like that.” Your voice is quiet now, your posture caving in like you’re trying to shrink yourself. Like you don’t want him to see you.

“And why not?” It’s his turn to touch you, his palm reaching up to cup your cheek. “I love you.”

“And I you.” You breathe, but Benedict deflates internally at your words, you still don’t believe him. You think he’s doing this as your friend.

“Not like that.” He grimaces, eyes pouring deeply into yours. “Not like—” He pauses, taking your hand and placing it on his chest. “Can you feel that?” He asks, voice low. He’s almost whispering.

Your reply is silent, nodding, you don’t trust yourself to speak.

“My heart,” Benedict’s chest rises and falls steadily, “it beats for you. Only for you. Because I am in love with you (Y/n), so deeply and so wholly, that I cannot breathe without you. When I am not with you, my soul aches.”

Euphoria, that is the best way you can think to describe it. This must be what Daphne had been talking about, the relief flooding your body as Benedict’s words ring through your mind. You’re not sure you have any words that can match up to his. He’d always been the poet after all, the starved artist.

So you don’t. You don’t say anything. You simply smile a coy smile, reaching your hands up to pull Benedict down by the neck of his suit. He’d rendered you speechless, so, you may as well return the favour.

And it feels like perfection, your first kiss. It’s far from Benedict’s first, but it’s already his favourite. His stomach churns in the most wonderful way, his left hand still resting on your cheek. He brings his other hand up, fully cupping your face now, and deepens the kiss. Your lips move against his in harmony, a light groan falling from them as he backs you up against the bookshelf.

“Benedict.” You murmur. His name has never sounded so wonderful to him before. But he knows you cannot keep going on like this, as much as he wants to.

Bringing himself back to reality, he pulls back from you gently, releasing your face from his grip. You eye him curiously, but you understand him fairly quickly. You can’t do this here, not now. You both know that. Benedict wants things with you to be done right.

“Marry me?” He breathes, blue eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. He knows it may seem sudden, but he’s waited what feels like a lifetime to be with you. He doesn’t want to wait any longer.

You grin, slightly dazed. “Eager Mr. Bridgerton?”

“Absolutely.” Is his quick reply. “I wish to make you my wife, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

You hum in delight. “Your wife. I quite like the sound of that.” There’s a slight pause before you speak again, brow raising ever so curiously. “Whatever will your family think of our engagement? As far as everyone is aware, we were not even courting the time they saw us last.”

Benedict knows that you’re joking. You’re merely teasing him, having a little fun, and he decides to play along. “I am sure Mama will faint from the shock.” His sarcastic tone has you giggling. “But in all seriousness,” he says, “surely, they would have seen this coming. They have been pushing for this for months—“

You chuckle earnestly, interrupting, “Years, darling.” You smile. “I believe it’s been years.”

He sighs, agreeing happily, allowing a sweet silence to fall between you. If he really thinks about it, Benedict is sure he can find many occasions where his family had subtly, and not so subtly, tried to push the two of you together. It surprises him how dumb he had been, how blind he must have been not to see it.

Absentmindedly, you place your hand in his, a content smile resting upon your lips. You’re thinking much the same as he is, reminiscing over the many moments you must have missed. The years of mutual pining, too scared to say anything, afraid you might lose the one best friend you’ve ever had.

But what surprises you the most, is that you don’t regret any of those moments. You don’t regret the years you may have lost being married to Benedict, because let’s face it, if you had had the courage to say something years ago, you would have been married by now. But somehow, you prefer it this way. Your journey, your love story, is etched with history. And there’s truly nothing more you could want.

As you sit side by side, the glow of the fire illumating your bodies, your shadows brilliantly cast intertwined on the wall, you’re reminded of something Anthony had said.

Incognizance can happen to the best of us.

Funny, you ponder. While you hadn’t gleaned the meaning behind his words that day, you now know, how true they seem to be…

||||||||||||||||||||||

tags: @freyathehuntress @idli-dosa @maryswollstoncraftshelleys @theoraeken-lover @i-always-come-back-xoxo @lostinwonderland314 @lvsickhyuck @magical-spit @auroresce @mell-bell @kpopgirlbtssvt @sanovr @mayakblack @arkofblake @acupnoodle

[yourvanishinglove]

NAH NAH CUZ WHY HE SO FINE?!

Chris Evans - MTV Movie & TV Awards

[yourvanishinglove]

Not gonna lie…this was one of the best I’ve read in weeks!

Quickie ♡

Jake Jensen x fem!Reader

Summary: Jake only has a few minutes with you before he has to get back to business.

Warnings: oral sex, fluffy puppy Jake, established relationship, sexy times while on the phone (?), unbeta’d

Words: 800+

A/N: cross posted to my ao3, comments and reblogs are much appreciated

18+ only don’t repost pls thank you be cool

Okay but like can you imagine,

Keep reading

[yourvanishinglove]

SEBASTIAN STAN as BUCKY BARNES The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (2021)

[yourvanishinglove]

[yourvanishinglove]

Every chance you had, you lied, pt. 4 (final main part)

Summary: The reader partakes in the battle between the Avengers, ultimately getting arrested along with Clint, Sam, Scott, and Wanda. But as we know, Steve rescues them. After their escape, the reader has an important decision to make: keep running with Steve and remain a fugitive forever, or go to Wakanda with Bucky and get the help they deserve. 

Warning: Mentions of arrest/imprisonment

A/N: Sorry this is so late again! I was sick over the holidays and then my mom got sick too! This is a great end to this main story, in my opinion. There will be an epilogue in the future. Thanks for all the support in this series. This is the very first series I’ve ever written. :3

The four of you were now fugitives. No matter what Bucky did or didn’t do, the government was after him, and after finding out your true identity, they were after you too. 

Steve and Sam called a few of their teammates and the plan was to escape to Siberia to find out exactly what was happening. To find the person who was framing Bucky. 

You all met in the Leipzig-Halle Airport where a huge fight broke out between Steve’s other teammates. 

You didn’t know any of them and found yourself fighting a bunch of people that you didn’t know. Steve told you just to make sure that you didn’t kill anyone. Apparently, all of these people were friends. 

Steve and Bucky escaped to a jet while you were fighting a red-haired woman, who you learned is Natasha. Right before your chance to escape with the duo, Natasha fired a small disk at you, it latching onto your body, sending an electric shock through your body, sending you to the ground.

She ran after the two, but you were able to claw the disk off of you, stopping the shock. 

Just before you could get up, two webs captured your hands, sticking them to the ground. “What the?” You muttered, looking around. A guy in a red and  blue suit jumped down in front of you.

“Sorry…Mr. Stark told me to.” The guy said, his voice sounding very young. No older than 16. 

A bunch of agents came surrounding you, pointing guns at you. 

“Stand down!” One of them yelled at you. 

“I’m literally already on the ground, dipshit,” you mutter. 

In the distance behind the agents, you could see the jet flying off in the distance. Bucky and Steve had made it. 

The agents arrested you along with Clint, Wanda, Scott, and Sam. They transported you all to a prison that was in the middle of the ocean. The Raft is what you heard them call it.

They took your weapons and put you in a straitjacket. “Is this really necessary?” You asked the guard. 

“Of course it is,” a man with blonde and gray hair stepped in front of the guard. “We heard about your break-out in Germany. You broke tempered glass with your bare hands. Not taking any chances with you.” The man leans over to the guard. “Make sure she’s sedated as well.”

“Yes, Secretary Ross.” The guard nods. 

“You think I’m gonna try breaking out of here?” 

“I have my suspicions. But if you try anything, it won’t be pretty. You’re lucky that you weren’t killed back in Berlin. The United States government would prefer you dead to pay for your crimes.”

“That was HYDRA, not me.” You shake your head. “It’s more complicated than you think.”

“A judge will see about that very soon. Take her to her cell. She makes one move, zap her.” The guards push me forward to a cell, bolting it closed behind me.

***

Y/N’s direct POV

It had been about a week and a half that we were locked up in the Raft. They only took me out of my straitjacket when they gave me food, a guard watching me the entire time. 

I knew how much the government hated me. Even if I didn’t remember my missions as the Crimson Angel, I figured that what I did was horrible. I think that’s the worst part of it all, not knowing who I killed. Whose families I ruined. Whose lives were completely destroyed because of me. 

When they’d shut the lights off at night in our cells, the memory of being in the HYDRA prison would come back to me. Being in that cell alone, with little food or water. I remember being in there for days in the dark. Only for the Winter Soldier to come in and beat me within an inch of my life. 

It was hard not to think about Bucky. It was hard not to be angry. I knew that he was under the same mind control that I was, if not worse, but knowing that Bucky knew everything about me while we were in Bucharest and said nothing…it was too much. 

I remember the day he saved me from the river. I woke up in a dingy apartment on a cold floor, a stranger wrapping bandages around my arm and torso. 

“W-who?” I muttered, completely unable to remember anything before. I had no recollection of where I was, how I got there, or even who I was. Everything was blank. Even the memories of HYDRA.

“You need to stay still.” He said to me. 

“Who are you? Where am I?” My voice was painfully hoarse, each breath I took felt like a thousand needles were piercing my lungs. 

That’s when his lies started. “Adrien. I found you by the river.”

I don’t know why he decided to lie then. Maybe to save me the pain of reliving everything over again, but I’d think I would’ve preferred to know then. At least I would’ve had the right to choose what I could do next. 

I’m interrupted from my recollection when the lights in our cells dim. We all look up, and someone walks out of the shadows. 

Steve Rogers. 

**

*Before Steve broke into the Raft* Steve’s POV

“Steve.” Bucky says to me on the Quinjet. 

“Yeah, Buck?”

“I know you don’t know her. But I need you to make sure you get her out too.” 

“Buck-“

“Please. I’ve put her through hell. I’m the reason she’s in there. One of the reasons she’s who she is.  Please. Just make sure you get her out.” 

“I was gonna say “of course”, Buck.” I smirk. “I’ll make sure she gets out and that she’s safe. And I figured that…she can come with us. To Wakanda.” 

“Really?” Bucky looks relieved. 

“T’Challa wants to help you. He’ll understand her situation too. He said that there’s someone in Wakanda who can probably get rid of those triggers. Both of you can get the help you deserve.” 

“If she can even stand to be in the same room as me.” 

“Look, Buck.” I put my hand on his shoulder. You both have been through a lot, but she wouldn’t have done all of this if she didn’t care about you. I can tell that she’s struggling to differentiate the you that she met in Bucharest and the Winter Soldier. She could’ve run in Germany. But she went through with all this.” 

Bucky nods.

“We’re gonna get you both out of this, alright? I promise.” 

**

Y/N’s POV

Steve breaks all of you out of the cells, taking you out of your straitjacket. “Can’t believe they put you guys in this.” He tosses the jacket. 

“I’m fine. Just make sure Wanda’s okay.” You say. Over the time spent in the Raft, Wanda spoke to you about her past. How she lost her parents at a young age, her development of her powers, losing her brother. Such a sad story for someone so young. 

“Let’s get out of here.” You all make your escape out of the Raft and make it out to the Quinjet. The doors open and Bucky is standing at the entrance. 

You slow your stride, surprised to see him there. 

“Thanks for keeping it ready,” Steve says to Bucky, patting him on the back.

He turn back to you all. “Now let’s go. Ross is probably onto the power outage. Those generators alert the headquarters when activated.” You all rush onto the Quinjet and take off onto an uncharted course where Ross wouldn’t be able to track you.

You look over at Bucky and notice that his metal arm is gone. 

“My god, what happened?” You ask him.

“Stark.” He shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah.” 

It was still hard looking at Bucky without getting emotional. You knew a different side of him while in Romania. The person you got to know in Bucharest was someone kind, caring, protective. And you knew that the person in front of you was the same person, but it was hard to separate the two after finding out that he was one of the people who tortured you for years. 

As you all fly on the uncharted course, Clint tells Steve to take him back home. 

“Clint, if you go, then you’ll—“

“I know, Cap. But…my family needs me. And I can’t have them become collateral. I retired because I kept missing things. They need me.” 

“And Cassie…” Scott speaks up. “I need to go back too.” 

“Even if it means you’re arrested.” 

“I’ll take that over the government going after my family.” Clint says.

“Go.” You say. Everyone turns their heads to look at you. “Don’t miss that opportunity. If you have someone who’s waiting for you…you should go.” 

Clint gives you an appreciative nod. 

“Okay…we’ll take you back. Sam, Wanda. What’s your plan?” 

“I’m behind you Cap. It’s not like I can go back home. Don’t have a job waiting for me.” 

“And I’m pretty sure Tony isn’t letting me back into the compound anytime soon.” Wanda says, crossing her arms. 

“Alright. Clint, Scott. We’ll take you back. And then the rest of us…we’re headed to Wakanda.” 

“Wakanda?” You ask. 

“You and Bucky can be safe in Wakanda. They’re offering you both asylum and a treatment. The government can’t come after you there.”

“A treatment?” 

“To help get HYDRA out of our heads.” Bucky speaks up. “They can help us, Y/N.” 

You never thought that you could be fixed. You thought that everything HYDRA programmed in you would be there forever. That every memory you had before HYDRA would never be recovered.

While listening to Clint, you realized that you had no one. No one who was waiting for you back home. You didn’t…have a home. You didn’t have many options. Maybe in Wakanda, something could change.

“Okay,” you nod. “I’ll go.” 

“You will?” Bucky kneels next to you.

“I want HYDRA out of my head. For good.” 

** 

Tags: @vicmc624​

[yourvanishinglove]

Happy New Year! May everyone be happy and healthy!

[yourvanishinglove]

Every chance you had, you chose to lie, pt. 3

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Reader is under the control of HYDRA brainwashing, her mission to help Bucky complete his mission. 

Warning: fighting, brief mentions of torture, mind control/brainwashing

A/N: So sorry this took so long. I was stuck with how I wanted reader to confront Bucky about the past. But, I’m satisfied about this part. It’s also the first time I’ve written action like this, so sorry if it’s a bit choppy or weird. 

You break out of the briefing room, following the sounds of yelling down a corridor. A guard runs around a corner behind you. “You! Stop right there!” He yells win German. 

You turn around to face him. 

He approaches you, but you grab his arm and throw him back into the wall next to you, choking him out until he falls unconscious. 

You continue down the corridor where you see Bucky fighting a red-haired woman in a cafeteria. You jump off the balcony and land down in the cafeteria.

Bucky slams the red head onto a table and grabs her throat. 

“Hey!” You turn around and a man with some kind iron glove shoots at you, stunning you for a few seconds. You get up and when he tries to shoot at you again, you elbow him in the face, knocking him to the ground. 

A blonde woman pounces on you, tackling you to the ground. You grab her by her jacket, throwing her off of you. You both land kicks and punches, and you head-butt her and kick her into a table.

You grab a discarded gun off the floor and you point it at her and pull the trigger, but the chamber is empty. You pistol whip the blonde, knocking her out. 

You decide to leave her when you see another man fighting Bucky on an upper platform. You leap onto the platform, kicking the man over the railing.

“Go.” You say to Bucky in Russian. He jumps over the other railing, escaping the reception area. You follow him, running close behind him. 

You two make it to the helipad on the rooftop and you hop in the passenger side of the helicopter. 

Steve rushes outside and sprints toward the helicopter as Bucky begins to raise it off the helipad. Steve jumps up and grabs the landing gear. The chopper can’t get higher with Steve pulling it back down.

“I’ll handle it.” You climb out the side of the helicopter and grab onto the landing gear. Before you can kick Steve’s hand off, Bucky throws the joystick left and the chopper slams into the edge of the helipad, knocking you off the landing gear, sending you falling about twenty stories to the river below. You land in the river, the force of you hitting the water knocking you out. 

**

You wake up in an abandoned warehouse, your head throbbing as you sit up. You feel a tug and see that your arm is tied to a machine. On the other side of the machine, the Winter Soldier is tied up too. 

The blunt force of landing in the river brought your mind back to its normal state. As your mind returned from its brainwashed state, some memories you had been trying to remember began coming back. 

Your heart begins to race when the memory of the Winter Soldier comes back to you.

The Winter Soldier was in that cell with you. HYDRA would make you fight him as training, and he came extremely close to killing yo

Fear was taking over you. It was like you were back in that cell again, scared as hell. “No, no, no, no.” you mutter, pulling on the restraint. 

The Winter Soldier looks at you. “Y/N…”

“Someone help me! Get me away from him!” You scream, pulling at your restraint, the material cutting into your arm. 

“Hey, Cap! We got a problem!” You pull harder on the restraint, but the machine it was attached to was bolted to the floor. 

“Shh, shh. You need to be quiet.” Steve comes running in. 

“Get me away from him!”

The days where the Winter Soldier would come into your cell began haunting you again. The guards would lock the door behind him. 

“Commence training session.” Someone said in Russian over an intercom. You’d have to fight the Winter Soldier or die. You knew you would never be able to beat him. You’d just have to take the beating until they told him to stop. HYDRA never wanted you dead during your time there. They wanted you defeated, so you wouldn’t fight against them. 

You dreaded the days that he came into your cell, the guards locking it behind him. And every time you failed, you’d be brainwashed over and over again. 

Now you remembered the face that tortured you for years.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Steve kneels down in front of you. He puts his hands on either side of your face. “You need to calm down. We can’t be heard here. You’re safe. Just breathe.” 

“He’s gonna kill me.” You sob.

“No, he’s not. He’s not your enemy. Bucky’s not gonna hurt you. He’s safe. I promise. Now, breathe. You gotta calm down.” He begins taking deep breaths. You follow suit, your breathing slows down, and your heartbeat returns to its normal rate. 

“Good. Now…am I right to say that you’re safe? Is this Bucky I’m talking to?”  Steve stands up. 

“Your mom’s name was Sarah…You used to wear newspapers in your shoes.”

“Can’t read that in a museum.” Steve says. 

“Just like that, we’re supposed to be cool?” Sam interjects. “And what about her?” He points to you. “Why the hell did she freak out like that?” 

“Sam,” Steve warns. 

Bucky looks ashamed. Ashamed that he dragged you into this. 

Steve turns his attention back to you. “You and Bucky started attacking people. Do you remember any of that?”

You shake your head. “I remember being in that interrogation room and then waking up here. There was a man…he was asking me about how I got to Romania. Then he…said those words.” 

“What words?” Sam asks. 

“The words HYDRA uses to control you. You can’t fight them. It’s like you lose control of your own mind. And you just forget everything.” You look at Bucky. “But I remember now. You. You tortured me. You almost killed me dozens of times. And then you acted like none of that ever happened.” 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said. 

“You pulled me from the river, didn’t you? That’s how I got to Bucharest. Because you remembered me. I spent the last 15 years trying to get away from you. From HYDRA. Every day was hell in there. And you knew that and you didn’t tell me when I was trying to find out who I was. When I was trying to remember.” Tears begin rushing down your face. 

“Y/N, just let me explain.” 

“Do you remember? Anything from those days? Every time you attacked me?”

“I didn’t recognize you until I found you and saw the marks, I swear. Every time we fought back then…that wasn’t me.” 

“But it was you who lied to me about everything. About who you were. About who I was.”

“I wanted to tell you. I just…if you left, HYDRA would’ve found you. I wanted to tell you, I swear.” 

“Every chance you had, you lied to me. And now what? I’m here, stuck with you, again.” You wipe your face with your free hand. 

You didn’t know what exactly you had done while you were under, but considering you were restrained, it must have been bad for Steve and Sam to think they needed to protect themselves. You had nowhere to go. Your home was that cell. It was Bucharest until everything happened. You had nothing. Nothing to lose. 

You look up at Sam and Steve. 

“What happens now?” 

@vicmc624​

[yourvanishinglove]

Every chance you had, you chose to lie, pt. 2

Bucky Barnes x reader 

Summary: You’re transported to a facility in Berlin where someone triggers your memories of who you once were, and your identity is revealed to some Avengers. 

 A/N: italics indicate another language. sorry this one is so short. I want to pace things a certain way. 

The police strap you inside the armored, making you unable to move your arms and legs. 

“Why are you doing this? I didn’t do anything!” The police ignore you and you shut the pod,, locking it from the outside. 

You look out the window of the pod and see Steve from earlier walking along side the man who attacked Bucky. 

“What’s gonna happen to him?” Steve asks. 

“Same thing that out to happen to you. Psychological evaluation and extradition.” The gray-haired man says. 

“And her?” Steve nods towards your pod. 

“Same thing. Not only was that woman harboring a terrorist, but she’s one herself.” 

“What do you mean?”

“That is Y/N L/N.” The gray-haired man points at you. “It’s taken us decades, but we finally found her. She’s been a HYDRA agent since 1991. They called her the Crimson Angel. She has over 50 assassinations under her belt. At least those are the ones that we could find records of. Crimson because each kill was bloodier than the last. We gained some intel on her after your friend Romanoff released all of HYDRA’s records, but we could never find her. Turns out she’s been hiding in Bucharest with HYDRA’s greatest weapon.”

“She doesn’t look—“ 

“Looks can be deceiving, Captain Rogers.” 

***

They move your pod with a forklift and place you in a briefing room. A man comes in and sits at a table in front of your pod. 

“Ms. L/N. You’ve gotten yourself in quite the predicament, haven’t you?”

“I don’t know why I’m here.”

“Oh, you know why.” The man opens a small notebook. 

“No, I really don’t.” 

“Tell me, how did you wind up in Romania.”

“I…don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” 

“I don’t remember how. I just remember waking up on the bank of a river.” 

While you’re speaking to the man in front of you, Steve Rogers is watching you on the cameras in a separate conference room. 

“This girl can’t be a HYDRA assassin.” 

“Looks can be very deceiving.” Sharon Carter says next to him. 

“No, this girl…she didn’t know a thing about what was happening. What Bucky is being accused of. I don’t think she’s in on this.”

“Maybe she’s playing dumb. To save herself.” Sam suggested. 

Back in the room you were in, the man stood up from his chair, holding his small notebook. Suddenly, the lights turn off. 

He puts his hand up to his ear. “Start the process?” He asks in Russian.

“What process?”

“Affirmative.” You heard a muffled voice. The man was wearing an earpiece. 

“Longing.” The man starts in Russian, taking a step closer to your pod. 

“Rusted.” You shut your eyes. Your memories, which had been hazy for so long, started flooding through your mind. A dark cell which you spend years in, these same words recited over and over again until you complied.

“No.” You shake your head. “Not this. No.”

“Seventeen.”  The man takes another step closer. 

“Stop this. Please! No more!” You scream. 

“Daybreak.” 

You scream, pulling against your restraints, breaking free. 

The man smirks at your anger. “Furnace. Nine.”

You punch the glass door of the pod, cracking it on the first punch. 

“Benign.” 

You punch harder and harder, the glass cracking under your fists. Your mind didn’t belong to you anymore. You had lost all control once again. 

“Homecoming. One. Freight Car.” You give the door a kick and the glass shatters under your boot. You climb out of the pod, standing in the broken glass. 

“Angel?” The man says. 

“Ready to comply.” You respond in Russian. 

“Help your fellow soldier complete his mission.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

[yourvanishinglove]

I love the way he walks. 

SEBASTIAN STAN as BUCKY BARNES The Falcon and The Winter Soldier | 1.03 “Power Broker”

[yourvanishinglove]

Every chance you had, you chose to lie, pt. 1

Civil War Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: set in the MCU during the events of Civil War, reader comes home to see that Bucky, who they knew under another name, is being chased by the government, and reader gets caught in the chaos, and in turn, learns the truth about her past. 

Author’s note: Italics indicate another language. 

You climb up the stairs of your apartment building, grocery bags in your hands. You fumble with the key to the apartment door as you get up to the ninth floor. Just as you put the key in the door, your roommate opens the door and pulls you inside. 

“Damn it, Adrien, what the hell?” You ask in Romanian. 

Adrien locks the door behind you, securing the bolt lock. “Did anyone see you?” 

“Did anyone- no? Why?” You put down the bags of groceries on the floor. 

“We have to go…now.” 

“Go where? What are you talking about?”

“I’ll explain everything later. But we need to leave.” Adrien hands you a backpack. 

“Come on. We have to go.” 

You look behind him and a man with a shield is standing behind him next to the balcony door. 

Adrien turns around.

“Do you know me?” The man asks Adrien. 

“You’re Steve. I read about you in a museum.”

You stand there, flustered and confused. 

“I know you’re nervous. And you have plenty of reason to be. But you’re lying.” Steve says. 

“I wasn’t in Vienna. I don’t do that anymore.” 

“Adrien, do what? What is he talking about?” 

“I can’t guarantee your friend will be safe from them. The people who think you did this are coming here now. And they’re not planning on taking you alive.” 

“That’s smart. Good strategy.” 

“This doesn’t have to end in a fight, Buck.”

You hear footsteps outside the door. You’re scared, confused about all of this.

“It always ends in a fight.” 

A loud bang startles you. Someone’s ramming into the door outside. 

“You pulled me from the river. Why?”

Bucky takes off his glove, revealing his metal hand. You had only seen it a couple of times, but he never talked about it. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Yes, you do,” Steve says.

There’s another huge slam outside the door. A grenade crashes through the window. Adrien, or Bucky, according to the stranger, kicks it to him and he uses his shield to smother the blast. 

A policeman is slamming the door with a battering ram. Bucky pulls you to him and shields you both with the mattress on the floor. 

He blocks the door with a table as cops come in from the windows. 

You scream as a cop knocks you to the floor. Bucky shoves the policeman into the wall.

“Buck, stop! You’re gonna kill someone.” Steve yells.

“I’m not gonna kill anyone.” Bucky grabs a backpack from under the floorboards and throws it out the window along with the one he handed you. He helps you off the floor and brings you to the window.

“You have to jump over there. Now.”

“I can’t leave you here.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll find you later, okay? You have to jump over there.” He points to the next building over. 

“I can’t jump over there.” 

“I’m sorry.” He tightens his grip around your waist and he throws you across the gap. 

“Sam, catch her!” You hear Steve yell. 

Before you make it over to the next ledge, someone comes flying through the sky wearing a pair of mechanical wigs and catches you, holding you by your arm. 

“I got you.” He grunts, and flies you to the building where Bucky threw your backpacks. “Are you with Bucky?”

“I guess I am. He told me his name is Adrian. What’s going on?”

“Your friend is in a lot of trouble. And a lot of people are after him right now. Stay here.” 

“I don’t really have much choice, do I?” The man flies off the ledge and up to the roof our apartment building, where there are cops patrolling the area. 

You hide behind an air conditioning unit when you see a helicopter flying above the building. “Shit.” 

Bucky tumbles onto the roof of the building and you pop your head up from behind the air conditioning unit. 

As he grabs his backpack and runs over to you, a muscle man in all black slams Bucky from behind, knocking him down to the ground.

“Adrien!” 

The man has.a full face mask with pointed ears on. He extends his fingers and sharp claws pop out. He starts fighting Bucky and kicks him into a wall, almost slashing him with his claws. You reach into your backpack and find a gun and point it at the man. 

“Stop! Leave him alone!” You shoot at the man, but the bullet ricochets off his armor and grazes your arm. “Damn it,” you wince. 

Steve leaps from the balcony down onto the building as the helicopter comes back. A cop from the helicopter starts firing a machine gun. You duck behind the air conditioning unit again, dodging the bullets. 

Bucky breaks free from the man, runs and jumps down a level off the building. You’re left on the roof and a cop from the helicopter lands on the roof. 

He points a gun at you. 

“Drop your weapon.” He yells in German. 

You drop your gun and raise your hands. The cop arrests you and waits for the helicopter to land. You look down onto the street and see Bucky running from the man who attacked him on the roof, with Steve running behind him. 

**

The police take you to an armored car and throw you inside, you landing on your wounded arm.

“Why are you putting me in here?” you groan. “I didn’t do anything.” 

Before the guard closes the door, you see another armored car with the police putting Bucky inside. 

“Adrien! Adrien!” You scream, scrambling to your feet with your hands handcuffed behind your back. Your eyes lock right before the police slam the door shut. 

The armored car starts moving and you fall back to your back. 

** 

After a two hour air transport, the police walk you into the large headquarters where they place you in an armored pod. You see a sign that says “Joint Counter Terrorist Centre.” 

What the hell did Adrien..Bucky…whoever he is...what did he do?  

[yourvanishinglove]

Thanksgiving with Bucky

Summary: Per Sam’s request, you get Bucky to come to Thanksgiving dinner with Sam’s family. 

Author’s Note: not connected to previous storylines. 

Gif from @winter-soldier6

_____________________________________________________________________

“This is stupid.” Bucky huffs as your turn your car into the driveway of Sam’s sister’s house. “Why did I have to come?”

“Because Sam wouldn’t leave me alone until I promised to get you to come. You already don’t spend time with him. I think he misses your presence.” You say, putting the car into park.

“He’s seen enough of me.” He huffs again, holding onto the cake box in his lap.

“Okay, mister. Just promise you’ll engage in social interaction just this once, okay?” You bat your eyelashes at him. 

“Fine.” He mumbles.

“Thank you,” you lean over and kiss his cheek. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Bucky gets out of the car and waits for you.

“There they are!” You look up to Sarah’s house and Sam is standing on the porch. “Our special guests are here.”

You glance at Bucky, who’s looking at the ground.

“Hi, Sam. We brought dessert.” You point to the box in Bucky’s hands. 

“Great, we’ll have plenty of it. Come on in. Sarah and the boys just finished setting the table.” 

“Come on, Buck.” You close the car door. You go over to Bucky’s side and pull on his jacket, pulling him with you up to the house.

**

Sarah and her sons greet you both with hugs and she takes the cake box from Bucky.

“I managed not to drop this one.” Bucky says. 

“That’s great Bucky,” Sarah chuckles. “You had the whole block talking with that last one.” 

Bucky’s ears turn red and he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. The cake was still good. Everyone loved it. Now, how about you both go wash up and we can have dinner.” 

“At 3:00?” Bucky asks.

“It’s a Thanksgiving thing,” you say. 

“Oh…” 

You lead Bucky to the kitchen and you both wash your hands before sitting down at the dining table next to each other in front a spread of delicious looking food. 

“Thank you so much for the food Sarah. It looks amazing,” you say, unfolding a napkin onto your lap.

“No problem at all. Thank you for coming. I’m glad you and Bucky could make it.” 

“I’m surprised she got him here,” Sam says to Sarah. “I think she’s the only one who can talk sense into him.” 

Bucky rolls his eyes, a smirk on his face. 

As we eat dinner, Sarah makes conversation with you about life after the blip, what it’s been like readjusting, and you explain everything. Bucky’s sitting beside you quietly, picking at his food. 

Sam notices and tries to get him to talk. 

“So, Bucky…how has therapy been going?”

Well maybe that was the wrong thing to bring up. 

You shoot Sam a warning look, taking a sip of water. 

“It’s fine.” Bucky says, taking a bite of turkey. 

“And the proposal?” Bucky spits out his food and you choke on your water.

“P-propsal?” You cough, looking at Sam and then at Bucky. 

“Sam.” Bucky groans. 

“Oh…did you not?” Sam asks, gesturing at you. 

“No, I did not, can you please shut up?”

“I thought you said you were-“

“Sam,” Sarah stands. “Can you help me get the dessert? Now. Boys, you come help me too.” The four of them get up from the table and practically run into the kitchen. 

“What was he talking about?” You ask Bucky, wiping your mouth with a napkin. 

“It was…nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“A proposal?”

His ears get red. “God, Sam really can’t keep his mouth shut.” He scratches the back of his neck. 

“No, he cannot.” You chuckle.

“Just ignore him, okay?”

“Okay James…” you smirk, taking another bite of your food. 

**

At the end of the dinner, you hug Sarah and the boys, and hug Sam last. 

“Sorry, I didn’t—“ Sam starts.

“It’s fine, Sam.” You chuckle. 

“Well, thank you for coming, and getting him to come.”

“You’re welcome. Now, you can stop calling me every day about him.”

“Get him to answer his phone more.”

“I’ll do my best.” You hug him again and go out to the car, where Bucky is waiting in the passenger seat. 

“Okay mister, we’re going home now.” You buckle your seatbelt.

“Do you want to get married?” 

“Huh?”

“This isn’t me proposing, I’m just asking.” Bucky stares out of the window.  “Since Sam kind of…ruined my original plan. I figured I should ask first.”

“I haven’t really thought about it.” You say, looking down at your lap. 

“Really?” He looks at you, curious. 

“Ever since…the blip, things have been so different. So much more difficult. I just haven’t thought about it. I was gone for five years. I’m still adjusting.” 

“I can definitely understand that.”

You look at Bucky. “Were you really going to propose?”

He nods. “Last week. But you came home really angry that night. I was going to take you to dinner.”

“And then I ignored you the entire night.” Your heart sinks. You remember icing him out the entire night after your meeting with your landlord. He had increased your rent by 500 dollars, even after you explained you were still looking for a job after coming back from the blip. 

“I’m sorry.” You say. 

“It’s okay, I understand.”

“God, I feel like an idiot.” 

“Don’t. I’ll try again. Even better next time. And I won’t tell Sam about it.” He smiles. 

“Yes, don’t tell him anything.” 

Bucky leans over and kisses you. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Buck.” 

[yourvanishinglove]

Introducing Victoria Stark, pt.1

A/N: This is a character I thought of back when the first Avengers movie came out. Since then, I've written/thought of ways that I could insert her into the storyline of the Avengers. It has probably been done, but I was so excited when I thought of her backstory, I just wanted to share. :D

Throughout the backstory, I'll include some short dialogue just to paint a better picture of the scene. And I'll include some photos and GIFs too from the MCU to help illustrate. :)

I'll post this in parts so it's not too much to read.

I hope that this serves as enough backstory for any posts in the future that include Victoria Stark. :3

Warnings: mentions of assassination, memory suppression

__________________________________________________________

As you could probably tell, Victoria is related to Tony Stark. She's the daughter of Howard Stark and Elena Maxwell. She was born in 1984, born the same year as Natasha Romanoff ;). She is 14 years younger than Tony, who was born in 1970.

Her mother Elena Maxwell was an associate at Stark Industries and had a short-lived affair with Howard Stark.

After Elena told Howard that she was pregnant, Howard forced her to leave Stark Industries so no one would find out about her pregnancy and the affair.

Victoria was ill as a baby. The doctors were unable to identify what the source other illness was, but it was projected that she wouldn't live past three months.

Elena begged Howard to get their daughter some help.

"Howard, please. You owe me this.

Howard looks at Elena, brows furrowed. "And what exactly do I owe you?"

"You pursued the relationship between us. You started this. You uprooted my life. You owe me this. I don't want you or your money. I want my child, our child, to be okay."

"Fine, but you can't come back here. I can't see you or her around here. If people found out about this..."

"I don't want anyone to know about this either. More than you know."

Howard sent Victoria and Elena across the country to New York to a doctor that he knew from the war. He was a doctor and scientist among the team that worked with Dr. Erksine in giving Steve Rogers the super soldier serum.

Secretly, Howard sent the doctor a version of the super soldier serum that he had been working on for years. After giving Victoria this version of the serum in the spring on 1985, Victoria began to recover from the mysterious illness. Elena decided to stay in New York, knowing she wouldn't have a job to go back to in Los Angeles at Stark Industries.

Unknowing to Howard and Elena, their daughter was in danger. HYDRA had been tracking Howard's movements since the war ended. And they knew everything. They knew about the affair, and the serum that Howard gave Victoria.

They had a sense that Howard was getting close to perfecting this super soldier serum, but they needed to wait until it was perfect. Howard wouldn't have given the dosage to Victoria unless he knew that it wouldn't cause harm. He gave her a smaller dosage, but he couldn't anticipate the effects it would have on his daughter.

HYDRA would keep close tabs on Howard and his wife Maria in Los Angeles and Elena and Victoria in New York until December 16th, 1991.

The next day, Elena and the entire country would find out about the death of Howard and Maria Stark.

Elena grew suspicious of their death and she began investigating. She knew that Howard would be in New York to present at the Pentagon. She had talked to an old friend and associate about it.

The same serum used on Victoria, now perfected, was going to be presented at the Pentagon in D.C. that week.

Two days after the death of Howard and Maria Stark, the Winter Soldier was deployed again to kidnap Victoria, the only person with super soldier serum coursing through her veins.

Elena was driving with Victoria in the backseat of the car to the countryside, where Elena's parents lived, and the Winter Soldier crashed the car, just like he did the Starks.

Under the assignment from HYDRA, the Winter Soldier took the unconscious Victoria from the back seat and brought her back to Siberia. After the assignment, HYDRA put the Winter Soldier on ice and put their focus on Victoria. Due to the super soldier serum, she withstood the car crash. She had some minor injuries and remained unconscious for several hours.

After treating her injuries, HYDRA used the Memory Suppressing Machine on her to weaken the memories of her short life before HYDRA, ultimately suppressing her memories of the only person who loved her, her mother.

A/N: That's the end of the first part. Hope you enjoyed this little snippet of the history of Victoria Stark.

[yourvanishinglove]

You guys have been overwhelming me with joy 😭 thank you for the support ❤️