It couldn’t have been more obvious even if you tried. Unfortunately everyone knew that from the second you met Bucky you were smitten. Fortunately he didn’t.
You had convinced yourself that the super soldier would never look at you the same way in which you did him, especially after hearing the history he shared with Natasha, she was everything you weren’t - strong, brave, in your eyes more beautiful than yourself, she was exactly the one Bucky would definitely pick if it came down to him having to choose.
Not that you would ever allow that to happen, you knew your heart wouldn’t be able to handle the rejection and humiliation.
Yet that didn’t stop you from pining after the beautiful human that is Bucky Barnes.
“Steve?”
Turning to the sound of the soft voice behind him, a smile instantly broke out on his tired face. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I- I was just wondering if you happened to know what Bucky’s favourite cookies are? Or-or if he even likes cookies but everyone likes cookies… right?”
A soft look over took his features as he listened to you ramble as your fingers twisted against each other. “You like him, don’t you?”
“N-no, yes, no, don’t be silly- that’s ridiculous.”
“You like him.” The blond smirks before chuckling as your face pales. “Don’t worry, he likes you too. He loves chocolate chip ones, always has, I’ve got to go alright, see you later for movie night, yeah?”
He likes you too kept replaying over and over, Steve wouldn’t lie to you, right? Especially not about this, surely. Before you could even ask him if he was being truthful or not he had already left. “O-okay, bye.”
Bucky found you in the kitchen the next morning covered in flour - as he wiped the sleep from his eyes he couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his face as he watched you make more of a mess in the kitchen then Sam whenever he was let loose in there. “Mornin’ doll.” The scream you let out caused him to flinch and hold his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I nearly- my heart is pounding now!”
“Sorry. Are you okay?”
“‘M fine.” It was only then when you looked up did you notice that he was standing just a few feet away from you without a shirt on, you knew for a fine fact that he caught you staring at his naked chest - being subtle wasn’t exactly your speciality. With bright red cheeks and three attempts of clearing your throat you managed to speak up, although it came out much more high pitched then you wanted. “C-coffee?”
A deep chuckle breaks past the plumb lips that you had imagined what they would feel like against your own - on more occasions than you cared to admit. “I can make it, doll. What you up to, anyway? Other than destroying the kitchen.”
Playfully rolling your eyes at him then frowning when your eyes traveled the countertops that were covered with flour, egg shells and other mess, you hadn’t quite realised how messy you had been. “I’m making cookies.”
“At half six in the morning?”
“Yeah.”
“Do I get one?”
“Well… you- well the thing is you get a tray full o-only because I want to ask you for a favour.”
As his head tilted to the side your cheeks burned, you had no idea how to really ask the question, if he said no then that meant you had been up since five trying and failing to make the perfect cookies for him - then you would have to run away and never be seen again, okay maybe thats a bit to dramatic but still it would be absolutely embarrassing. “Doll? Y/n? You alright?”
“Huh? Yeah I’m fine, why?”
“Well you’ve just been standing there for the past five minutes just staring at me- well not as much staring but squinting, like this.” The half naked beautiful man standing in front of you with a cup of freshly done coffee in one hand whilst the other went to his hip and mimicked not only your facial expression but your stance.
Much to your annoyance.
“I did not look like that!”
“You really did doll, I thought you were broken for a minute there.” As you roll your eyes at him, again, he chuckles. “What’s the favour anyway?”
“What? Oh yeah, I was wondering- you can say no if you want too but I was wonder- and again please know it’s okay to say no but would you like to come to the bookfair with me? Today? Leaving in two hours, earlier the better and all that.” By the time the words come out and register in your own ears you wince. That was so painful. What's worse is that he’s just staring at you with a hint of amusement on his face. “It’s okay, it’s stupid, you can still have the cook-”
“You just want me to carry all the hundreds and thousands of books back for you, don’t you?”
“Firstly, it won’t be hundreds and thousands. And secondly… yes.”
“And you thought you could bribe me with cookies?”
“Yes… that’s- it’s stupid, I’m sorry.”
“Doll you don’t need to bribe me with anything, I’ll happily carry anything for you for free.” He tells you truthfully. Never in the few years he had known you had he ever lied to you, and he wasn’t going to start doing it now. “But I still want the cookies. Make sure you shower unless you want to go with flour in your hair.”
As you made your way towards the car where Bucky was leaning up against a shy chuckle left your lips as the man commented on how delicious the cookie was that he had just eaten - using his flesh hand to get rid of the few crumbs that had fallen into the stubble on his face.
The car ride was mostly silent with only the radio playing filling in the air quietly as Bucky drove down the road, he wouldn’t admit it but he had plans with both Steve and Sam but quickly mentally cancelled on the pair the moment you had asked him for a favour.
He enjoyed spending time alone with you - cherishing each time you both sat in silence reading a book or strolling through the park with you by his side as he listened to the back stories you gave each person you saw.
He would never admit that every time you had a smile on your face and it was directed at him, his heart would always skip a beat. He truly would listen to your rambles about your hobbies or your retelling of how your day had gone in full detail forever without complaint if you let him.
When he officially joined the team the last thing on his mind was the possibility of falling in love with someone, then he met you. He tried to keep his distance at first, not quite liking the feelings he had developed so quickly for someone that he barely knew yet no matter the distance he put between you both he couldn’t help but search for you in every room he went in - listening intently in hopes he could hear your voice or infectious laugh that always have his stoic expression to crack as a smile formed on his lips.
He had often wondered what would happen if he ever spoke up and actually told you how he felt - every scenario that played in his head always ended with him either being smacked across the face, laughed at or being left completely humiliated by you telling him that you felt nothing for him.
Bucky would never let himself believe that you could actually like him back, at least not in the way he did.
“Bucky?”
Your soft voice broke him out of his thoughts, blinking a couple of times before looking over at you. “Yeah?”
“We’re here. Want to come in with me?”
“Of course, who's going to carry the billion of books you're going to get?” Before you could respond he had gotten out and made his way to the passenger side door and opened it. “M’lady.”
“Why thank you, my good man.” You bowed causing him to roll his eyes as a chuckle left his lips. “Also it’s not going to be billions of books.”
“Liar.”
Sticking your tongue out at him, you hold out your arm for him to link arms. “Let’s go and get me a billion books.”
With each book that was placed into Bucky’s arms he complained.
A lot.
Yet each time you tried to remove them he moved away from you, telling you that he was only messing around. Happily accepting another that got added to the pile.
Just to complain again.
By the time you were finished Bucky joked that his arms were about to fall off - a loud laugh fell from his lips startling those around the two of you when you tried and failed to push him away.
“Do you- are you hungry?” Making sure the books were tucked away safely in the boot of the car, you turned to face the super soldier. “We can go and get some food. My treat, promise.”
“Sure but I’m paying.”
“No it’s fine, I asked so I pay.”
“Absolutely not, doll.” Squinting his eyes at you as you try to argue back, he grins as you nod in agreement. “Want to walk or?”
Shaking your head. “Let’s walk, it’s a nice day out.”
Bucky’s the one that holds his arm out this time, smiling softly to himself as you link arms with his. The two of you walked down the street with him making sure he was closer to the road and unbeknownst to you glaring at anyone that stared at you for longer than he deemed necessary as you talked happily about the books you had picked up.
In your favourite little restaurant Bucky being the gentleman that he is pulled your chair out and pushed it back in once you were settled, your cheeks ablazed at the action, the pair of you spoke quietly before the waitress came over to take your orders - he doesn’t even bat an eye when she openly flirts with him.
“So, are you happy with your new collection?” He asks once the food arrives.
“I am, though I have no idea where I’m going to put them because my bookshelves are full already.”
An amusement chuckle leaves him as he shakes his head. “And you just keep adding to it?”
“Obviously.” You grin.
“What’s your favourite book?”
Watching your face light up as you spoke so passionately about a book that he had to admit he has never heard off, it was in that moment that he knew that he would happily spend the rest of his life listening to your voice.
“The night is still young, want to head back or go to the park?” Bucky asks as the two of you walked arm in arm down the street, leaving the restaurant nearly three hours after the food was eaten - the two of you lost in your own world to the point that neither one of you were picking up the subtle hint coming from the waitress until she placed the bill on the table, which led to a playful argument about who was going to pay, he won by distracting you with the help of a dog walking past the window.
“Park! But can we go and get some seeds for the ducks?”
“Seeds? Thought they like bread?”
“No, bread is bad for them.”
“Oh… didn’t know that but of course we can.” The smile that you gave him made his heart thump loudly that he was sure you could hear it.
Sitting on the bench in front of the large pond where you were both surrounded by the ducks that called the pond home, Bucky couldn’t contain his laughter as you told off two ducks fighting over the food.
Even when the food was gone and the ducks had moved away the two of you sat there watching as the world went by with a conversation that flowed so effortlessly and never felt uncomfortable.
“Y/n?”
“Yeah?”
“I- I-” Shaking his head as his cheeks turned red, his eyes looking anywhere but at you. “It doesn’t matter.”
“What is it?”
“It’s stupid, honestly.”
“Are you sure? Whatever it is-”
“I like you.” He cut you off, wincing once the words that he had been wanting to say for so long blurted out. “I mean I like you as a friend and something more-” Jumping up, you watched as he paced up and down as his hands dragged down his face. “That sounds so stupid, now I’ve ruined things, I’m so sorry Y/n. Just forget I said any-”
“Do you mean it? T-that you like me?”
Hearing the slight tremble in your voice had him spinning around to face you. “More than anything. I’m in love with you.”
Your heart thumped painfully hearing those words. Bucky Barnes is in love with you. Smiling softly as you stand from the wooden bench, his baby blues stayed trained on your face as you got closer. “I’m in love with you too.”
Walking into the common room where everyone sat no one batted an eye at seeing the two of you holding hands or the stack of books in Bucky’s left arm, the only reaction they had was Steve holding his hand out nodding in thanks when everyone placed money into his palm.
Would you mind a fic where y/n (a big bookworm) wants to go to a book fair and wants to ask Bucky’s help for carring all the books so he finds her in the kitchen with a batch of his favourite cookies but the cookies are irrelevant because he has a big crush on her so he would do anything for her? (Obv she has a crush on him too 🤩)
I’m sorry it took so long to post, I hope you like it🤍
I was always told that it’s beauty marks that are from a lover in the past life and birth marks are from how you died, anyways I have a huge birth marks going across my lower back
Summary: Ubbe and his brothers go to England to avenge their father, whilst there he meets Y/n.
Word count: 3,636
Warnings: mentions of rape / by multiple men (not detailed & not by ubbe). mentions of being a sex slave (not detailed). mentions of being branded/reader has a scar on her face. death (beheading, blood eagle, suffocation - not detailed). mentions of a stillborn (not detailed). fluff. angst. swearing. threats of violence. Ubbe’s in love from the jump. reader is called a whore - only twice. blood. timelines are incorrect & doesn’t really follow the show.
Masterlist
She waited. And waited. And waited.
He told her that they would come. So she sat there on the hard boulder watching the water, watching and waiting.
When the first ship came over the horizon a huge smile broke out on her lips, splitting the cut that wasn’t healing properly - once again. Her eyes widening when she saw a huge fleet of ships, he was right, her king was right.
“Slave! Get here!”
“Yes, sir.” Giving the swarm of ships one more glance, she jumps up off the boulder. Not even making a noise as the guard hit her across the face, knocking her down on the ground.
Sliding off the small bed, ignoring the pain in between her thighs she slid her hole ridden shoes on and snuck out of the room. Keeping close to the walls, hiding in the shadows she made her way out of the castle and went straight towards the woods.
It took a few hours, going around in circles, until she could hear the loud and boisterous noise coming from the Vikings. Creeping closer to the makeshift camp, she crouched down weighing out her options - that was until someone held a blade to her throat. “What have we got here? Get up.” With one hand around the handle of the sword, the man used his other to push her into camp. “Look what I found. A Christian!”
Everyone turned to face the noise, most of the men making crude comments as she's pushed into the centre of the camp. But she shows no sign of fear, especially when she grabbed the dagger out of a man's hand and pressed it into the mans - who still had a hold of her - throat. “Let me go or I will cut you.”
“You heard her, let her go.” A commanding voice broke through the chuckles and muttering of the men, the man instantly listened. “You speak our language?”
“Yes.” Flipping the dagger and handing it over to the man she stole it from. “You are the sons of Ragnar, yes?”
Five sets of eyes stared at her, the oldest of them stepping forward. “You know our father?”
Making her way closer to them, she points at the log - getting a nod from the oldest, she sits down. “I know King Ragnar.”
“How?”
“I was born in Kattegat, my parents were farmers.” Picking up an apple, she took a bite out of it. “The soil is rich here, that's what king Ragnar said, and it was. Crops grew higher than men.” She chuckled. “We were happy.”
“What happened?”
“Aethelwulf.” Saying the name in complete disgust, she looked at the brothers. “You’re Ivar - Ragnar spoke about you. Sigurd. Hvitserk.” Her eyes linger on the second oldest son . “You look a lot alike him so you must be Ubbe. And you are Bjorn Ironside.”
“What happened?” Bjorn asked again, causing her to tear her eyes away from Ubbe.
“They came one day, it wasn’t uncommon as they would come to check up on us, but this one day it was different.” Tugging at her tatty brown dress, her eyes went from Bjorns to the flames coming from the firepit. “Aethelwulf raised his arm and then his men came charging in, my-my mother grabbed my hand and we ran, my mother was killed in front of me, the same with my father. I ran and hid b-but they found me, another girl who was the same age as me and a woman.” Gulping down the lump that was forming in her throat, it had been so long since she thought about that day. “Me and Brynhild - the girl - was dragged to Aethelwulf as his men took it in turns raping the woman, she was long dead before they all had a go.”
Looking up at the sky trying to force the tears away as she saw the images she had tried so hard to get rid of, before Bjorn could find the words to speak, she spoke up. “Me and Brynhild became slaves, our only job was to warm Aethelwulf’s and Ecbert’s bed. When my friend became pregnant they left her alone until the babe was born, sadly she wasn’t breathing, I had to watch as Aethelwulf put a pillow over my friend's face.”
“Brynhild?” A large man asked as he stepped forward. “Was she also from Kattegat?”
She frowned as she looked at Bjorn then to the man. “Yes, why?”
“Her mother, what was her name?”
“I-I don’t remember.”
“Did Bryn have brown hair?” She nodded, the men all watching as the beast of a man stumbled back. “She- she was my niece, Bjorn, they killed my family!”
As Bjorn tried to calm the man down, her eyes went from them to Ubbe who still hadn’t taken his eyes off of her from the moment she was dragged into camp. A voice snapped their attention away from one another, Ubbe frowning at the man. “And why should we trust this Christian?”
“And who are you?” She questioned, Bjorn’s words dying on his tongue as he looked between the woman and man.
“King Harald.”
“Never heard of you.” Haralds eyes snapped to Ubbe as he started choking. “I am Dane. The cross on my head was given to me as a punishment when Ecbert caught me praying to our Gods - I can’t remember what I was praying for, whether for them to let me die or for them to help me - but I was dragged out into the courtyard and pinned down as he branded me in front of everyone.” Her fingers trembled slightly as they hovered over the deep scar on her forehead. “It was his way to mock our Gods, to make sure I was never able to take a seat at Odin's table, to even make sure I wouldn’t get into their Heaven. As I said, I am Dane, I am not a Christian.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Ubbe said earnestly, smiling sadly as she shook her head.
Bjorn sat down closer to her. “What is it that you want?”
“When Ragnar was in the cage Ecbert allowed me to give him food and water, he would talk to me about his sons - his first wife, his plans and dreams.” She smiles softly. “I told him I could get him out of there, get him a boat and get him back home but he asked if I would come too, I said no - I don’t have a home to go back to, and even if I went back to Kattegat I would be a target. This” Her fingers brushing over the scar. “On my head makes people, our people, think I’m a Christian. Ragnar wouldn’t leave, he refused, he knew he was going to die and he knew that his sons would raise an army to avenge not only him but the settlement massacre.”
“Was you there? When our father was killed?”
“No, but I do know how it happened. Ecbert laughed about it because he knew I only saw Ragnar as my king and not him.”
“H-how? How did it happen?” Sigurd asked, his eyes nervously looking between his brothers and her.
“He was dropped into a pit full of snakes.” Everyone lowered their heads at hearing of the kings death. “I tried to find out where he is but he wouldn’t tell me. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Ubbe speaks up again. “We know it’s not your fault.”
“I’ll ask again, what is it that you want?” Bjorn asks. “Silver?”
“I don’t want silver.” She whispers, looking the oldest son of Ragnar in the eyes. “I will help you in any way I can, I have no loyalty to Ecbert or his men.”
“But you want something?”
“Aethelwulf.” The brothers and Harald share a look amongst each other. “I want to be the one that kills him.”
Bjorn thinks her words over before nodding. “What is your name?”
“Y/n.”
“Will you help us?”
“Yes.”
Standing up, Bjorn smiles down at her. “Men, women, Aethelwulf belongs to Y/n, and her alone.”
The sun was just coming up by the time she got back to the castle, a new sense of purpose bursting through her veins as she crept back into her tiny room - just as she got as comfortable as she could on the wooden bed, the door came open, Aethelwulf shouting and cursing about how he walked in on his father and wife in bed together - she didn’t dare admit that she already knew about the affair between Ecbert and Judith that had been going on for months, unfortunately she walked in on it. She winced as the rough wood scratched at her cheek as he flipped her onto her stomach, closing her eyes as he began his assault.
She thought about the bright piercing blue eyes that wouldn’t leave her long after she walked out of the camp.
When it was time for The Great Heathen Army to attack the castle, Y/n watched with great satisfaction as Aethelwulf’s eyes widened with fear as he took in the number of Vikings at his gate. Whilst everyone was busy at the front of the gate, she ran towards the other gate that no one was guarding, and removed the large plank of wood keeping it shut. Ubbe smiles warmly at her when they come face to face. “Is every- what happened to your face?”
“Nothing.”
“You have a bruise and a cut on your cheek.”
“It’s nothing.” Kicking a stone which accidentally hits the foot of one of the men. “Sorry.”
“Brother we need to move.” Hvitserk smiled - excited and ready to shed blood.
The whole attack was over before she realised it.
They watched as Aethelwulf spun nervously around in a circle - his desperate, pleading eyes trying to search for an opening or even a small gap between the bodies of men surrounding him. His dark blue eyes squinting as the crowd started to separate, a look of betrayal on his face as he sees Y/n standing in between Bjorn and Ubbe. “Y-you? Should have known to never trust a Danish whore!”
“That is true.” She smiles. “You took away my family, my friends, my happiness. You stripped me of everything!”
“I made you my favourite whore! How ungrateful can you be?”
“Every time you touched me I wanted to be sick, every time you looked at me I wanted to rip your eyes out.” Smiling as she sarcastically says. “Sorry for being ungrateful.”
“You Heathen!”
“And proud.” Holding her hand out, Ubbe hands her his axe, flipping it around as she takes a step forward. “The sons of Ragnar have ever so kindly let me be the one to take your life.”
The smile on her lips grew as she put one foot in front of the other, the fear in his eyes grew more as she got closer to him, he backed up only to be pushed towards her by the Danes. The whole crowd cheers her on as she swings Ubbe’s axe hitting him in the legs.
After the first hit everything goes black.
“Ubbe.” Bjorn whispered, nudging his brother's arm.
“I know.” The crowd was silent as Ubbe slowly approached Y/n - who still hadn’t stopped her attack on Aethelwulf even though he had long stopped breathing. Reaching out, he put his hand on her shoulder, only for him to quickly grab ahold of his axe as she jumps up and presses the blooded blade to his throat. Raising his free hand to signal the men not to move, he spoke quietly. “It’s me, it’s Ubbe. You’re okay. It’s done.”
“Ubbe?”
“I’ve got you.” Taking the axe from her hand and dropping it onto the blood covered ground, cupping her cheeks in both hands he tried to wipe some of the red liquid off of her face. “Let's get you clean, yeah?” As she nods he wraps his arm around her shoulder and guides the two of them away from the prying eyes.
Finding an empty house he helped her sit on a chair, silently thanking the Gods when he found a bucket with fresh water - taking a cloth he began cleaning her face, apologising when he caught the cut on her cheek. As he took his time, Y/n couldn’t take her eyes off of him - especially his bright baby blues, she couldn’t understood why she was so drawn to them or to him - he looked so much like Ragnar, showed her just as much kindness as his father had even when he was locked in a cage. “W-why are you being so kind to me?”
“I saw a seer before we left for England. He told me that I will find what I am looking for.” He spoke back up after a few minutes of silence. “I didn’t understand it at first.”
“What is it you are looking for?” Searching his eyes as he stared at her. The only sound in the empty Saxon house was the red water dripping into the bucket. “I- I thought you came here to avenge Ragnar?”
“I did. But- but I’ve been searching for… you.” Her eyebrows furrowed together causing him to sigh. “I want to find happiness, to find love. The seer told me that I would know who it was when I met them.” Taking her hand in his. “It’s you, Y/n.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know.” Sighing once again. He thought the seer was confused or wrong about what he was saying, but that was until he laid eyes on her, it all settled - the longing, the wanting and needing. Hvitserk nearly fell off his seat when Ubbe confessed how he felt a few hours after Y/n left their camp. “It’s stupid.”
Before she could respond there was a knock at the door. It was Sigurd to inform Ubbe that Bjorn had found Ecbert in the castle. He had told Y/n to stay in the house and that he would be back, not long after he had left she followed him and his brothers.
The coward was taking his own life.
And to add insult to injury, the sons of Ragnar were allowing it to happen. Ubbe did try to chase after her when Ecbert took his last breath but Bjorn held him back.
It was a few weeks before Ubbe talked to her again, he had seen her around yet each time he tried to approach her she would run off in a different direction, ducking and hiding in between everything and everyone around her - much to his brother's amusement. They had defeated king Aelle and his men, she was there as he begged and pleaded with the sons of the man he took great pleasure in torturing, even going as far as demanding how much gold and silver they want in order to spare his life - not knowing that Y/n had already told them where the coward hid his riches.
She was front row and centre with a smirk on her lips as he screamed and writhed in agony as Bjorn began to execute him by a Blood Eagle.
Ubbe found her sitting on the ground leaning up against a tree staring up at the hanging body of Aelle. “Y/n?”
“He deserved so much worse than this.”
“That’s true.” Sitting down next to her, picking up a leaf he began tearing at it. “How are you?”
“Fine. You?”
“Fine.” A comfortable silence took over the pair, even with neither one knowing what to say to the other, the only sound coming from the woods were the army celebrating further away. “Y/n?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you come back to Kattegat?”
“No.”
“Why?” She doesn’t say anything, she just points at her forehead. “Right but where will you go?”
“I don’t know, nowhere I go is going to be safe. I am a Dane on Saxon land, I go back to my home land and I will be killed.”
“You won’t, you will have my protection.” He answered quickly. “I swear to you that no one will harm you.”
Picking up a twig, she started to pick at it. “I- what about your brothers.”
“What about them?”
“I said I would help them but they haven’t asked me for my help yet. Why?”
“You’ve already helped by telling them where the gold and silver is.”
“Do they not want more from me?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“You helped our father, you showed him kindness, and by doing that you helped us.” He wraps his arms around his knees with a soft sigh. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t?”
“I mean about what I said a few weeks ago. I meant what I said.”
“And I meant what I said.” Dropping the remaining of the twig, she began picking at the grass beneath her - needing and wanting to keep her hands busy. “Your seer was wrong Ubbe.”
“Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t.” He shrugs. “The moment I saw you I was drawn to you, I don’t really know how to explain.”
“A tug.” She whispers, her eyes casting downwards finding the holes in her boots more interesting. “I feel it too.”
“Really?” A beautiful smile lights up his face. “So come back home with me.”
“And do what?”
“We can get married, have a life toge-” She cuts him off by giggling. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound. “W-why are you laughing?”
“You would be laughed at.”
“Why would I? You are the most beaut-”
“Don’t”
“-iful woman-”
“Stop.”
“-in the world.”
“You are a liar, Ubbe Ragnarsson.”
“I am not! Please believe me.”
“How can I, when I have this on my face.” Pointing at the scar once again. “How can I believe you when I have been used, abused and made to feel like I am nothing?”
“I will show you- I will spend the remaining of my days making you believe my words.”
Two weeks later most of the Vikings were going back home, Ivar and Hvitserk were the only ones out of the brothers who were staying. Ubbe’s eyes scanned the busy crowd as he waited to see Y/n, even though she hadn’t agreed to come back to Kattegat she hadn’t disagreed with him either, so he stood on the ship waiting. “Brother we need to leave.” Sigurd said as he tapped his back.
“Give it a couple of minutes.” After waiting and realising that she wasn’t coming Bjorn gave the signal for the men to start rowing. The ship was still next to the dock when Ubbe saw her running towards them. “Stop!”
“I needed to grab something.” She panted lightly as she got closer to him, holding his hand out to help her climb aboard. “I want to come home.”
One of his hands went to her waist whilst the other cupped her cheek, he couldn’t help but smile as he rested his forehead against her own. “Let’s go.”
A week after being back a group of men had attacked her - once Ubbe found out who had done it he had killed them without any hesitation. From that moment no one dared to harm her. It took nearly a year for the people of Kattegat to finally stop staring and whispering about her.
Ubbe spent many nights by her side after a nightmare had woken her up, gently running his fingers through her hair as he coaxed her back to sleep. During the day they would talk about everything and anything, there was one day that she opened up about what she had gone through by the hands of Aethelwulf and Ecbert - he held her in his arms as she broke down in tears. Every other day he would go into the woods and search for the best wild flowers he could find and pick them for her, his heart always skipping a beat when her face lit up and a shy smile on her lips as she accepted them. And when they went out no one ever saw one without the other, always arm in arm as they made their way through the market or taking strolls down the beach.
Everyday Ubbe never failed to tell her how beautiful she is, how strong she is, or how incredible she is, it took months for her to realise that his words rang true and that he well and truly meant every single word he spoke. It didn’t come much of a surprise to anyone when Ubbe announced after two years of being back that he and Y/n were getting married. A huge feast was held after they exchanged vows, the celebration lasting way into the night - a huge smile on her face as she bossed Hvitserk around after he lost the bride run.
“Ubbe!” Nearly tripping over her own feet as she ran towards their house, she barged through the door. “Ubbe!”
“Yes my love?” Turning his attention away from their son, chuckling softly as the two year old began tugging on his hair wanting his fathers attention again.
“I told you we should wait!
Frowning as their son climbed up on him. “What for?”
“For another babe!”
“Wh- are you?”
“I’ve been feeling unwell for ages now so I went to see the healer, she confirmed what I already thought. I’m with child.”
Jumping up with their son in his arms and rushing over to her, wrapping one hand around her waist. “This is amazing!”
“Remember when we said we would wait?”
He tried, really he did, try and force the smirk off his lips. “I-I, to be fair it has been over two years since you was last pregnant.”
because you don’t write smut? And? Do you know how nice is it to find stories on my favourite fandoms and it not just be smut? It’s amazing, and actually original. Most smut fics are all the fucking same and it gets boring
15,544 word count on a fic and all you have is what? 60 likes? WHYYYY? I’m sorry but it’s crazy to me that you aren’t as popular as some others on here because in my opinion your writing is amazing!!
Its because I don’t write smut & my writings shit😂 but thank you for thinking otherwise❤️
Hello <3 i am genuinely confused because i saw your post where you mentioned red room in trigger warnings. Is red room something what needs to be warned about when you post fic where it is mentioned? (sorry for my shitty english)
Hi🤍
I only put the red room as a warning mainly because of the abuse that isn’t actually detailed - when I was doing the warnings i honestly thought I put more about the red room than i actually did - I don’t think the red room actually needs to be a warning (I guess it depends on the fic really) I’m going to take it out because now I feel dumb😂
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Black Widow!fem!Reader
Summary: falling out of love is okay, even if it does hurt.
Word count: 1,516
Warnings: angst. tiny bit of fluff.
Masterlist
The forbidden relationship between the two Black Widows where they kissed in the dark, held hands in secret, yearned for each other even when they stood side by side, became a relationship where they could do all of it in public and know that they wouldn’t be punished.
For ten long years they stood side by side, defending the other when needed, had each other’s back when on missions, it had been ten years full of love and affection - okay that’s a lie.
Maybe seven years or eight.
Neither one of them could pinpoint the moment where the love they had for each other dwindled, it just kind of happened - almost slowly and yet it didn’t seem to surprise either one of them.
There was no betrayal or accusations of cheating - there was never any doubt that they would do that to each other. There was no big argument that caused one to storm out of their room, no harsh words spoken or insults thrown at each other.
There was nothing that led to the breakdown of their relationship other than simply falling out of love with each other.
And that hurt more if they were honest.
They had known each other since they were children that went through so much tougher, the pain and suffering they endured was done together, escaping from the Red Room together, starting a new life with the Avengers even though Y/n was skeptical at first Natasha refused to leave her side stating that if she didn’t want to join than neither would she.
Their conversations once full of deep and meaningful words or talks about how their day went became pretty much non-existent. When they spoke now it was full of awkward silences as one tried to rack their brain to come up with something to fill in the awkwardness.
Once upon a time neither one could keep their hands off the other, it wasn’t always sexual but rather a comfort or a reminder that they were together just by simply resting a hand on the other's thigh or linking their pinky fingers together as they sat in comfortable silence as they read a book or watched a film. But now sex became almost a chore, kisses were quick, their hands now remaining to themselves.
For two maybe three years they kept it up, neither one wanted to be the one that said the words that would end everything they knew and grew to be comfortable with.
Both of them had tried to keep a hold of the love they had, even tried to force it but nothing they did worked.
It was a week after their eleventh anniversary - one that they didn’t celebrate because Y/n was on a mission with Steve and Bucky, the two super soldiers sharing a look of confusion as the woman didn’t make a run for it the second debriefing had finished like she always did to get to her other half, instead she told them that she would do the paperwork, waving them off when they asked if she was sure.
Stretching with a dramatically loud groan she checked the time on her phone, her eyes instantly closing in frustration. She hadn’t realised how late it was.
Pushing herself off of the semi comfortable chair, she made sure that everything was turned off before leaving the office and slowly made her way towards the bedroom she shared with her girlfriend.
Creeping into the room, making sure to keep her footsteps light as the last thing she wanted to do was wake up the redhead, noticing that the lamp was on she expected to find her girlfriend asleep - nearly screaming when she saw that she wasn’t.
Letting out a low chuckle, Nat smoothed out the blanket she had covered herself with. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I didn’t think you’d be awake.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” The redhead kept her eyes downward as Y/n changed into her nightwear, the air in the room became thick as the silence grew.
Choosing to sit on the chair near the bed Y/n twisted the ring gifted by Nat around her finger. There was so much both of them wanted to say but neither one wanted to break the other's heart. “Wh- what are you looking at?” She decided to ask breaking the tension - gesturing to the box sat upon her girlfriend's lap.
Lifting up something from inside the box Y/n sat puzzled by the small piece of paper. “Remember the first time we went to the cinemas? It was a completely new experience for us.” A small smile lit up her tired face. “Then you tripped up the step and dropped the popcorn.”
Groaning in embarrassment they both burst out laughing at the memory. “I couldn’t see where I was going!”
“Yeah, yeah.” She winked. “Remember getting told off because we couldn’t stop laughing?”
“Yes! They were so bossy!” Y/n laughed, prompting Nat to roll her eyes but couldn’t disagree with the statement. “Did- did you keep the ticket?”
“I’ve kept pretty much everything.” She whispered shyly. Pulling out a small very dried petal. “From the first bouquet of flowers you gave me.”
“You had been on a mission that went wrong, I wanted to cheer you up so I brought flowers because that’s what Tony does for Pepper when she’s sad.” The other Black Widow shrugged - remembering how lost and out of place she felt when she stood in the florist shop, listening intently as the shop owner explained the different meanings behind each colourful flower. “I had never seen you smile so wide before, and I was so proud of myself-”
“Then Tony mocked the bouquet because it was small.” Nat cut in. The redhead hated the way her girlfriend's eyes turned sad and the way she tried to make herself look smaller as the billionaire laughed loudly at the bouquet that Natasha proudly showed off. “I always hated him for that.”
Shrugging as if the laughter that came from the man she calls a friend didn’t still bother her. “He was right though, I should have gotten you a-”
“No. Don’t even say that.” She cut in again. “I loved them and all the rest that you got me over the years.”
“I know but-”
“No buts.” She smiled softly. Wanting to change the subject she looked through the box again, Nat pulled out a few prize tickets from the first time they went to an arcade. “I’m still pretty convinced you were cheating that day.”
“Wha- why? Wasn’t my fault you kept getting distracted!”
“Y/n you had over a thousand tickets within half an hour.”
“And? I was just better than you.”
Nat rolled her eyes at the comment but made no attempt to correct her. “It was a good day, wasn’t it?”
“It was, I don’t think we’ve ever laughed so much or-or even felt like we were just normal people.”
The redhead smiled sadly as her head bopped slowly up and down, as the room went silent she kept looking through the box, with each item she saw the more her heart ached, as each memory played on a loop around her head tears began to blur her vision - desperately trying not to let them fall down her cheeks. “Y/n-”
“I know. It’s okay.”
Hearing those words come out of her girlfriends mouth didn’t hurt as much as it should have, the reason the tears fell from her eyes freely was because it was confirmation that their relationship had come to an end. They may no longer be in love with each other anymore but that didn’t mean they didn’t have love for the other, Nat would forever consider the beautiful woman sitting on the chair across from her with her own tears falling down her cheeks - her best friend. She would still trust her to defend and have her back on and off missions. She would always be there if Y/n ever needed her.
Natasha would always have love for Y/n. Always. “I'm so sorry it came to this.”
Y/n would always have for Natasha. Always. “There’s no reason to be sorry. You know I will always love you, don’t you?”
Nodding with a sad smile on her lips, she hastily wiped the tears with the back of her hand. “And I will always love you.”
“So this is it?”
“I-” Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nods. “I’ll go and sleep else-”
The redhead quickly interrupts somewhat dreading the response she will get. “No stay, please. Just for one more night please let me hold you.” A small smile on her lips as her now ex-girlfriend, forever her best friend, nods with a smile on her own lips as the tears continued to fall.
Maybe one day they could fall in love with each other again, feel the spark they once had, go back to feeling whole when the other one is nearby, even learn new things about the other, maybe get the ending they both craved and planned.
Summary: There are rooms in the Void meant to break you. Bucky never expected to find his name on the door—let alone more than one. Each one peels back something he’d rather forget. Surviving them? That’s the easy part. Facing what’s inside... not so much.
Bucky took a deep breath. His hands were clenched in fists at his sides as he steeled himself against his next step. He stood at the edge of the darkness. It didn’t look like anything special. Just a smear of black across the wide streets of the city of New York. The air felt oddly distorted and the closer he stepped it buzzed around him.
He stood just outside it, wondering what was in store for him. He’d been here before. Not here exactly, but in this place. The choice between running, or standing and fighting. He had walked away from this so many times, but he just kept being dragged back to this edge. There was no choice left. Not this time.
The Void.
“All right,” he muttered. And then, without ceremony, he stepped into the darkness.
The room was quiet. Too quiet.
It wasn’t the kind of peace of solitude, but an unnatural, almost brittle kind of silence that came before something cracked. The concrete walls stretched endlessly in every direction, bathed in shadows. No windows. No doors. No exit. The space was lit by a series of flickering tube lights which pulsed irregularly and cast jerky shadows like skittish ghosts flying across the floor.
Bucky turned around, seeing himself sitting in a cold steel cage in the middle of a cell, head bowed. The air reeked of bleach and lubrication oil. His left hand— dulled titanium— rested heavily against his thigh, twitching every so often.
Across from him sat a figure— so familiar and yet unwelcome. It made Bucky’s teeth clench.
Helmut Zemo.
Impeccably dressed, as always. Fur collar, gloves tucked neatly beneath one arm. A red leatherbound book was balanced on his lap. He looked at home here, like he’d built this place, brick by brick, from Bucky’s worst memories.
“Asset response time,” Zemo stated, his voice calm and measured, “four-point-two seconds. Kill confirmation ratio: one hundred percent. Psychological resistance: low. Reconditioning required after prolonged inactivity.”
Every so often he turned a page in the journal. The crisp paper crackled in the silence.
“Impressive, no?” Zemo asked, lifting his gaze to the soldier in the cage.
Bucky didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed firmly on the floor. But the tension was palpable, his jaw was clenched tight enough to hurt.
Zemo smiled. Just a quiet, calculated smirk. He’d found exactly the right button to press.
“You flinch,” he observed, speaking softly, head tilting slightly. “Not at these numbers. But at the truth behind them. These files. You remember the missions? The blood? The screams in the dark?”
The words stirred something in Bucky’s chest. Acid rose behind his ribs.
“And yet,” Zemo continued in the same relaxed tone, “they let you walk free. The Avengers. The Wakandans. Even that therapist. Curious, isn’t it?”
Bucky still didn’t speak.
Zemo stood— slow, leisurely— circling him like a vulture scavenging its prey. The red ledger held just under his nose.
“You know what I find most fascinating, James?” he asked. “It’s not how easily they forgave you. It’s how quickly you believed them.”
He stopped behind Bucky’s shoulder. The air felt thick, almost suffocating.
“Tell me…” Zemo leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. Close enough that Bucky could feel Zemo’s breath against his ear. “When will they stop seeing the gun— and start seeing the man?”
He paused. Then, ever so softly, “Or do you fear… they are the same thing?”
Bucky exhaled sharply through his nose, like a man who’d been punched in the gut.
“I didn’t choose this,” he whispered, voice rough and riddled with guilt.
Zemo straightened, footsteps echoing through the hollow hall as he prowled around Bucky.
“No,” he agreed. “But you didn’t fight it either. Not always.”
He settled into the chair once more, putting one leg over the other and reopening the book, idly flipping through its pages.
“That’s the worst part of this, isn’t it? Somewhere in the haze. There were moments where you craved it. The purpose. The simplicity. Just the mission. Pull the trigger. Forget the name.”
He stopped on a photo. Turned it so Bucky could see.
A woman. She was young. Had the audacity to smile. A literal sunbeam of a person. The shot was a moment frozen in time.
Bucky’s breath caught.
Zemo’s tone had become mockingly thoughtful. “This one. You hesitated. HYDRA had to recondition you for almost six hours afterward. They said you spoke her name in your sleep.” He shrugged, almost casually. “They were concerned. They needn’t have been. Your next mission? Clean shot between the eyes.”
Bucky looked away. His throat was thick with bile. His heart thudded in his chest, heavy and uneven. But he knew that face. God, he remembered her. She’d been kind. Brave. She’d smiled at him once, just before he’d pulled the trigger. She hadn’t even seen it coming. The smile hadn’t even had time to leave her face before she hit the floor.
“I remember them,” he whispered. His voice barely carried.
Zemo tilted his head.
“What was that?”
Bucky looked up. Met his gaze for the first time.
“I remember. All of them. That’s why I keep going.”
Zemo paused, studying him. Then, he laughed. Bemused.
“No,” he said. “You keep going because you’re afraid to stop. Because if you stop moving, you’ll have to face it. With the silence. The grief. The guilt.”
He closed the book with a sharp snap.
“Not to worry,” he said, slipping the book under his arm. “The world will always need a weapon. And they will always remember exactly what you are.”
Zemo walked away into the shadows, his footsteps fading as the light above flickered faster and faster— before everything blinked out, plunging Bucky into darkness.
Total blackout swallowed him. Bucky stood in it for a heartbeat, then two, until they had multiplied into an unfathomable pit. Breath coming too fast, too shallow. Sweat beading at his temples despite the cold on his skin.
And then—
The click of a halogen bulb. One single diode. Then another. A cold, sterile buzz hummed to life above him, point by point, until the room was flooded with harsh, surgical light.
Not the concrete void anymore.
A HYDRA lab.
Bucky knew it instantly— the stench of antiseptic and dried blood, the eerie stillness, the vague humming of machines bathed in shadow. He was strapped into an open cryostasis chamber and a wall-length mirror was placed before him by a faceless man. Clean, silvered, and unbroken. Bucky glanced into it instinctively, heart pounding like a war drum in his chest. He didn’t know why.
And then he saw it. The reflection. It wasn’t his.
Not the man with shoulder-length hair and tired eyes, wearing civilian clothes and guilt like armor.
No. This man stood straight. Boots planted, tactical vest gleaming, the red star on his shoulder sharp as a scar. Black mask pulled down just enough to show an expression devoid of emotion. His gloved right hand was clenched at his side. His metal hand was painted in blood.
The Winter Soldier stared back.
Bucky’s stomach dropped. Tried to take a step back, stopped by restraints.
The reflection didn’t move. It tilted its head, just slightly, like a predator watching a wounded version of itself.
“You were good at it,” his reflection mused.
Bucky’s mouth went dry. “No.”
“You liked it,” it continued, an echo of all the voices that whispered in his ear in the dead of night. “Don’t pretend you didn’t.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” Bucky said, louder now, trying to convince himself more than anything.
The Winter Soldier took a step forward. Remaining behind the glass— yet closer somehow.
“Choices didn’t matter. You didn’t hesitate. Not even at the end. You didn’t scream. You didn’t beg. You executed.”
“I was brainwashed.”
“You were effective.” The Soldier lifted his bloodied metal hand, holding it up to the mirror like a priest offering communion and Bucky’s hand mimicked his movements, like a puppet. “You didn’t just survive. You thrived. You became the perfect thing they asked you to be.”
“I hated it,” Bucky whispered, argumentatively.
The reflection smiled wider. “No. You hate it now. You hated remembering. But in that moment?”
Images flickered behind the soldier. Images flashed in the glass— of missions, of kills, brutal and fast. A knife sliding into someone’s gut. The recoil of a sniper rifle. A gloved hand dragging someone from their car and slamming their skull into the pavement. All in silence. All clean. All efficient.
“You didn’t even blink,” the reflection said.
Bucky stepped closer to the mirror. Anger bubbling up now, hot and blinding.
“You think that’s me?” he demanded.
The reflection shrugged. “You tell me.”
“I’m not that anymore.”
“But I am,” the Soldier said. “And I live here.” He tapped the side of his head with a finger. “In every room. Every scar. Every nightmare. I don’t go away, James. You just dress me up in therapy, you try to kill me with Wakandan technology and hope no one notices when your hand starts to shake.”
The lights flickered. Bucky’s knees nearly gave out. The restraints had disappeared, he was tethered only by the shackles of his mind. He dropped to a crouch, breath ragged, hands braced against the floor. He didn’t want to look up, but the mirror pulled at him, like gravity. He had to look.
When he did, the Soldier was kneeling too, perfectly mirroring him.
Bucky’s voice cracked when he spoke. “You’re not real.”
The Soldier leaned in, eyes narrowing. “Aren’t I?”
Silence. Long and trembling.
Then— the reflection moved. But Bucky didn’t. But the Soldier stood up. Slow and smooth. Just as a gun lifts before its trigger is pulled. One final glance. Before he turned his back and walked away.
But his voice lingered, curling around the edges of the room like smoke.
“You’ll never outrun me.”
His words cracked the mirror. Fracturing Soldat’s diminishing silhouette into a thousand pieces and crumbling into darkness.
The next room wasn’t a room at all. He caught the dull rumble of the Quinjet around him before he recognized the soft glow of the Siberian Mountain range outside the window. Bucky sat in the cockpit, his hands loosely collapsed in his lap. He knew this moment. He had lived it before. Another tragedy he was responsible for.
Steve Rogers sat silently in the pilot’s seat.
Then Bucky spoke. “What’s gonna happen to your friends?”
Steve didn’t answer right away. He simply stared straight ahead, jaw clenched. After a long beat, he sighed and shook his head. “Whatever it is… I’ll deal with it.”
His answer was calm, but there was a weariness in it..
Bucky hesitated. But the words somehow managed to tumble to the tip of his tongue. Ones that always haunted him, the confession that always hung on the edge. “I don’t know if I’m worth all this, Steve.”
Steve looked back at him. His eyes were as blue as Bucky remembered, but colder now. Clouded with something harder than grief.
“What you did all those years… it wasn’t you,” he said, almost by rote. Emotionless.
Bucky exhaled, his jaw taut. “I know.”
He waited. Waited for the rest. For the part that always came next. You didn’t have a choice.
But Steve didn’t say it. Instead, he turned away, staring out at the mountains, hands tightening on the controls. His voice was quiet when it finally came.
“But you did it.”
Bucky blinked.
But Steve went on. “You pulled the trigger. You ended lives. Over and over again.”
Bucky’s shoulders sagged, his chest caving in. “I was controlled,” he stuttered.
Steve shook his head slowly. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” He turned to Bucky, a tired disappointment in his eyes. One that cut deeper than any rage he might have displayed.
“I believed in you,” he said. “I needed to.”
Bucky’s throat tightened. Steve’s voice was steady, but each word landed like a blow.
“I burned every bridge for you. I tore the Avengers apart. I lied to people I cared about. I fought people who trusted me. I broke the world trying to save you.”
He paused. The temperature in the cockpit felt colder.
“And maybe… maybe I was wrong.”
The silence afterward was absolute. Terrible. He couldn’t breathe. It was like Steve didn’t recognize the man beside him. This wasn’t the man who had once followed him into war, or pulled him out of the river.
His voice came out small. The same tone he had used when they had first fought as children.
“Steve…” he pleaded.
But Steve didn’t turn around.
“You asked me if you were worth all this,” he said. “And I thought you were. I wanted you to be.” He let out a slow sigh. “But I don’t know anymore.”
Bucky sat back in his seat. Whole body numb. The quinjet continued its flight path, soaring over the endless mountain range. He stood up and made his way to the back of the plane, pulling open the cargo door. He stood there, looking down, wind billowing around him.
In the real memory, Steve had looked at him like he was human. Like he could be saved.
But this wasn’t memory. This was the Void. And here, even Steve could give up on him.
"You asked me if you were worth all this," he said. "And I thought you were. I wanted you to be." He let out a slow sigh. "But I don't know anymore."
Bucky sat back in his seat. Whole body numb. The quinjet continued its flight path, soaring over the endless mountain range. He stood up and made his way to the back of the plane, pulling open the cargo door. He stood there, looking down, wind billowing around him.
^ this. this hurts so much in a way I can’t explain! I just wanna hug Bucky so bad😭
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