hi!!! i love writing and marvel and being a fangirl. and my cats. and the sun. and flowers. anyways…. here’s my little fandom bubble. enjoy. 🎀🫶💗💘
series.
the right universe. (loki x female reader)
after y/n's life turns upside down, she's full of grief. somehow, one day, she manages to travel to the mcu, where she meets her favorite characters, including a certain god who seems willing to establish a friendship with her. suddenly she's enwrapped in this new world, where everything she loved in a screen is now reality. how will she react? will she be able to deal with the ghosts that haunt her? or will she let them consume her? will she be open to accept the love she is offered? read to find out!
one shots & drabbles.
marvel:
natasha romanoff:
i hate men
so… being hopelessly in love with your best friend and getting super drunk is not the best combination? who would’ve thought? (a bit of angst but mostly fluff and female reader)
bigger than the whole sky
inspired by the song “bigger than the whole sky” by taylor swift. you navigate the world after losing natasha on vormir. (angst, angst, angst, with a little bit of hopefulness cause i’m me and gender neutral reader)
hits different
in all the time you'd known natasha romanoff, there is one thing you knew for sure. there was no one like her. and if she were to leave, you'd never move on. a song fic. hits different by taylor swift. (angst and then fluff!!! and female reader)
timeloop + vormir fic
exactly what it says. what if you have to watch the love of your life die over and over again while unable to save her?
loki:
who could ever compare to you?
you have a conversation with loki after he does some dumb things because of jealousy (a tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff and some little bit tiny bit of smut. perhaps smut adjacent. oh and loki x gender neutral reader)
bucky barnes:
ours
a comment makes bucky question your relationship and he begins avoiding you. tired of his behavior you confront him. (angst leading to fluff. female reader)
the great war
you get jealous and have a fight with bucky. inspired by the great war by taylor swift. (angsty with emotional fluff at the end. female reader)
i see the light
tony stark decides to throw a valentine’s day party, but the invitation comes with one rule: no date, no entry. when reader shows up to the party with no one by her side and tony doesn’t let her in, it’s up to bucky to find her and make everything better. (female reader friends to lovers yay)
fight for me
bucky breaks your heart due to letting other peoples opinions on you two win. will he be able to mend it? does he even care to?
the fate of ophelia
swiftie reader who insists bucky saved her from the fate of ophelia!!!! <333
gorgeous vs ready for it
you debate with nat and wanda whether bucky embodies the song gorgeous or ready for it by taylor swift. chaos ensues.
never thought i’d find you, but you’re here, and so i love you
when an accident in the lab causes 40s bucky to appear with all his charm and one liners and mended heart, its up to reader to let present bucky know that she doesn’t wish for him to be like that or any different.
steve rogers:
waited my whole life
no summary it’s just a little thing, fluffy and reader struggling to be open with their emotions yay:) (gender neutral reader)
you came along and you changed everything:
a valentine’s day party makes you question whether you’ll ever find love, especially since the one you love doesn’t seem to love you back. then again, you’ve always been kind of oblivious… (friends to lovers, angst to fluff, very cute)
request request part 2
steve rogers x gender neutral reader with a tough family life.
my best girl
basically steve and reader are together, peggy reappears through a time traveling machine, reader thinks steve will leave her and pushes him away. yay.
i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?
friends with benefits to lovers with steeeeeeb!!!
stranger things:
eddie munson:
why can’t this be love?
inspired by why can’t this be love by van halen. you and eddie have a no strings attached arrangement. and maybe you’re in love with him. who knows.
outer banks:
rafe cameron:
afterglow
inspired by the song afterglow by taylor swift. you let jealousy get in the way of the love you and rafe share. will you be able to fix it?
off campus:
john logan:
she toes the line between them, he says he’s new at this
i love you ain’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?
thinking about reader and steve becoming friends with benefits and falling in love but reader is emotionally constipated and to protect herself she always pretends she doesn’t care (need) romance and she also thinks steve would never feel the same meanwhile steve is dying inside because he thinks she doesn’t want a relationship or anything serious based on what she says….
masterlist
…
y/n’s pov:
during your time as the new avenger, you had learned a few things. first, even though they all look heroic, even black widow wakes up looking like a mess. second, if you ever get stabbed, do not, and i repeat, do not take out the knife. you will bleed out. and third, trust is everything. unfortunately for you though, trust is something you’re not very comfortable with. and you figure some things are just too important to say out loud. and some things, well, they’re better left unsaid.
and that’s how you got yourself into this predicament in the first place. because ever since you were able to lie, you have been lying. to every single person on the team, to yourself, and, most importantly, to him.
though you didn’t know that.
the thing is, when you lie for a long time, and when you lie with conviction, eventually… you believe the lie. and everyone else does too.
so when wanda giggled over a romantic scene in a movie and you rolled your eyes, you cemented your stance on it. when nat and sam tried to set you up on a date and you told them it was a waste of time, you did it again. and the worst of it, when you agreed to just be friends with benefits with a man you wouldn’t have been able to help falling in love with, you did it once more. the final nail in your hopeless coffin.
because of course you fell in love with him. and you daydreamed about a life with him.
but of course, it just doesn’t work like that.
…
you don’t really remember the details of how it started; you were both pretty drunk (him on asgardian liquor and you on quite a few shots). you don’t remember how exactly you ended up in his room, how your dress ended up on the floor, how his lips ended over yours. but god do you remember the feeling of it. of him kissing you for the first time, of his hands on your body, softly tracing your curves, your scars, your beauty marks. you remember his voice, the whispers of praise in your ear as he pounded into you with such passion you forgot your own name. you forgot everything except for him. you haven’t remembered yet.
it kept happening after that. after missions, before dinner with the team, on your usual movie nights with just you two that you had been doing ever since you joined the team.
it was like you couldn’t stop. like the need for each other was all consuming. and you wished for it to be just that.
but the softer moments, those are the ones that got to you the most.
…
the knock comes softly. you know it’s him because he’s the only one who would notice that you were off today. it’s like he has a radar for your emotions. you hate it. you love him.
“hey…” you say when you open the door. he smiles at you softly and you step aside to let him in.
“hi, sweetheart.” he takes off his jacket, you begin to assume he was out running a few errands, when you notice the brown bag he puts on the coffee table.
“what’s that?” you ask him, pointing at the bag with your finger, as he sits down on the couch, relaxed. he grins.
“guess.”
your brows furrow as you try to think, trying to figure out what the bag could contain. and then it hits you.
“you went to emily’s?”
“i did.” he looks pleased with himself.
“and you got me…” you drag the last word so he will fill in the remaining of the sentence.
“brownies.”
you stare at him. it’s so hard to be in a sad mood when he exists. curse him and his dumb, proud smile that crinkles his pretty eyes.
a slow, small smile starts spreading on your face.
his smile, somehow, grows bigger.
“there she is.”
you roll your eyes and flop down on the couch next to him, eagerly grabbing a brownie.
“is today someone’s birthday or something?” you joke.
he looks at you.
“you were off today, sad. it took me a bit to figure it out because the date is a bit earlier but-“
you raise a hand to shut him up, mouth full of brownie. when you swallow you speak up.
“i’m gonna stop you right there.” he blinks. “have you been keeping track of my period?”
he blinks again.
“yes…?”
“why?”
“um…”
“is it because all you think about when i’m around is having sex with me and i don’t like having sex while on my period?”
“no!” his eyes widen and he leans forward, alarmed. “not at all!”
“then…” you narrow your eyes.
“i just…” he sighs. “i keep track of it because i know you feel down when it happens and i want to be here for you.”
your brain short circuits. your hearts starts beating erratically inside your chest, so much so you’re scared it’ll break your ribs.
steve is looking down, almost ashamed.
“is that… is that weird?”
you swallow. keep your composure, you think to yourself. he’s just being a good friend.
“no,” you tell him, “it’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
he seems to relax at that.
“well, you deserve sweet things.”
and the way he says it, god, like it’s the easiest thing. like it’s obvious. like maybe he feels it too.
and that’s the thing, you know he doesn’t. because he can’t. because he’s him, and you’re you.
so you continue lying, and he continues to believe it.
…
steve’s pov:
the thing about you is that it’s impossible to know you and not love you. to kiss you and have you underneath him, writhing against his body and not imagine you, just for a second, walking down an aisle wearing a 40s inspired dress.
steve rogers has known loss. he’s fought wars. he’s seen friends be turned into enemies, people he knew and cared for die. he should be jaded, he should be cynical. but how could he when you exist?
before he was a man out of time, he was a man out of place and, as they say, old habits die hard, so every time you look at him, he’s convinced you see a weak man, like everyone did before. he’s convinced you can’t love him like he does you, because why would you? he’s him and you’re you.
not to mention, you never implied that you wanted a relationship. you actually had explicitly stated the opposite, saying it was just a waste of time.
he tried to not be hurt by it, you had agreed to just be friends who fuck, but sometimes heartache crept in. the desire to hold you and tell you all that he felt was overwhelming and incessant. but he couldn’t. because he’d lose you. and if he only had you for ephemeral moments?
well, what was steve to do but ravish you for as long as you allowed him to?
that never erased the longing, but having you for brief moments had to be enough. it had to.
….
y/n’s pov:
it all came to a head one catastrophic day.
okay. maybe you’re being dramatic, but when you heard the news it was like someone shot you straight through the heart.
steve was going on a date.
julie from HR, bless julie, so sweet and patient with all of the chaotic heroes, had asked him out and apparently, from what you heard from the conversation that you definitely didn’t eavesdrop between sam and bucky, steve had said yes.
well. that was that, you thought.
except it wasn’t.
not even close.
…
“okay.” wanda says as she heaves and gestures with her hand up for you to stop trying to get a hit on her. “enough. spit it out.”
you huff.
“i don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re training.”
“you’re trying to kill me!” she protests. then her expression softens. “i know something’s bothering you. you do that thing with your eyebrows when you’re upset.”
“what thing?” you ask her sharply.
“the thing simone ashley does in bridgerton, you know, when she lifts her eyebrows and frowns.”
“please.” you scoff. “i wish i could look like her when im upset.”
“aha! so you admit you are upset.”
you pause. sputter. and eventually give up.
with pursed lips and crossed arms, you look at her. she stares at you, not backing down.
you hate this about her, that she knows you so well and isn’t ever intimidated by your icy stares. i guess that’s what you get when you have a mind reader for a best friend. you were actually able to keep the thing between you and steve a secret for only two weeks. except for her and probably nat, nobody else knew. not even bucky, steve had told you so.
“so… spill it.” she says, raising her eyebrows and motioning forward with her hand.
you swallow. then, lowly, you say:
“steve has a date.”
understanding crossed her features, and you’re not sure why. you’ve never actually told her your feelings for steve. though it shouldn’t surprise you if she knows.
“okay,” she says, “why is that upsetting?”
“stop talking like a therapist.” you roll your eyes and she huffs out a laugh, nodding.
“i was trying to be nice. why haven’t you told him you’re in love with him?”
the sudden erratic beating of your heart makes your head pound. you shake it.
“i’m not in love with him.”
“right, and i’m a natural redhead.” she says, rolling her eyes. “seriously, y/n, why do you refuse to admit it? he’s a good man.”
“exactly.” you say, laughing bitterly. “he’s too good. he would never-“
“he does.” she cuts you off.
“you don’t know that, you’re just trying to be a supportive friend-“
“y/n,” she says, cutting you off again, “i don’t know it for sure because i read his mind, i know it for sure because everyone does.”
your eyes widen.
“no,” she says, clarifying that not everyone knows you’ve been sleeping together, “but it takes one second in a room with you two to know that you love each other.”
you scoff harshly, shaking your head rapidly. you need to calm down, you need to bury the feelings like you’ve always done. nothing good comes out of trusting someone in the way that you trust him. you know that.
slowly, you school your features to look impassive. but wanda sees right through you, sees the moment you shut down.
“it’s good for him to move on. i will, too.”
…
steve’s pov:
it takes one second in a room with you two to know that you love each other.
wanda’s words echoed in his head. but worse of all, the scoff you gave for an answer. a disgusted scoff. and then you said he needed to move on, that you would too.
he didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation, he was just going to train. and now his heart was broken into a million little pieces, though he would never show it.
that’s why he decided, he was going to follow your words. he was going to move on.
and then he texted julie.
…
“i wouldn’t call it a spending problem, though i definitely do have an obsession with buying expensive coffee multiple times a day and then when i see my bank account i want to die-“
steve wanted to die.
julie was going on and on, and she was great and she was sweet, like he knew she would be, and she was the only one putting in the effort in this date, but there was one unsolvable problem. she wasn’t you.
“steve?”
“hm?” he hummed, his eyes going back into focus on her as his ears readjusted to the clattering sound of plates and cutlery hitting them.
julie began turning red.
“i’m sorry, am i boring you?” she asked as if she was the problem and not him. he was being disrespectful. he shouldn’t do this to her. he shouldn’t have come.
“no! of course not.” steve tells her. then he shakes his head. “it’s not that, it’s… well…”
she narrows her eyes, analyzing him.
“it’s y/n, isn’t it?”
“i’m sorry?” he asks, widened eyes full of surprise. but he can’t help the way his heart leaps at hearing your name.
julie sighs.
“i knew i shouldn’t have asked you, im sorry, im trying to get over my ex and my friends encouraged me to ask someone out and you’re really nice and hot and-“ she snaps her mouth shut. “he used to say i talk a lot, im sorry.”
steve frowns softly.
“hey, none of that. you have nothing to apologize for.” then he pauses and looks at her. she was being honest, he should be too. “it is about y/n. may i ask how you knew?”
“i heard her and wanda talking the other day in the gym… i didn’t mean to hear their conversation, i was just walking to a meeting!”
steve frowns. he hadn’t seen her that day. embarrassment started creeping up his neck at the thought of someone else knowing that you were disgusted by the idea of loving him.
“oh,” he says, “so you know.”
“yeah, i mean, you did a good job at hiding it but i work in human resources, so…”
wait.
what?
“i’m sorry, i don’t understand. what do you mean?”
“i mean, i’ve known for a while you guys were sleeping together because im good at reading people but i don’t think anyone else, other than wanda, knows.”
“wait. wanda knows?”
“yeah, they were talking about it.”
“no, they weren’t.” he shakes his head. “i also heard that conversation.”
“then what are you doing here, on a date with me?”
steve tilts his head, confusion covering his features. what was she talking about? had julie not heard you scoff and deny it when wanda said that he loved you? had he not heard you say that he needed to move on?
“what are you talking about?”
julie’s eyes widen.
“what did you hear?” she asks. “i mean, at what point of their conversation did you get there?”
“i… i heard wanda say that it was obvious that we were in love with each other and y/n scoffed, said we both needed to move on.”
understanding crosses julie’s face.
“oh, no. you’ve got it all wrong. she loves you.”
“she doesn’t.” he says solemnly.
“yes!” julie exclaims. “before what you heard happened, wanda asked her why she refused to tell you she was in love with you and she basically said that you’re too good for her!”
steve’s shoulders straightened. you… you thought you weren’t good enough for him? but you were perfect.
and you loved him?
he suddenly got up from the table, making the chair screech across the wooden floor of the restaurant.
“i-“
“go!” julie tells him, smiling brightly. steve smiles back, unsure. “i’ll be fine!”
“okay.” he nods. he leaves a few dollar bills on the table even though she protests that they can split it. he’s still old fashioned on some respects, he tells her, and eventually she gives in.
once he’s out of the restaurant, he starts running.
…
y/n’s pov:
you’re in your room, wearing your comfy outfit, and listening to sad taylor swift music when someone knocks on the door.
you sigh. you’re really not in the mood. steve is out on his date, probably falling in love with wonderful julie and forgetting all about you, and you’ll always be here, stuck on the feeling of him against you.
when you open the door, your eyes widen.
“steve?”
he’s gasping for air, his chest going up and down harshly as if he’s been running a marathon. or more, because he could definitely run a marathon without breaking a sweat.
“hi.” he says, breathless. “give me- give me a second.” he breathes slowly, trying to calm down his heaving, and after a few moments he regains control of his lungs.
“what are you doing here?” you ask. “i thought you had a date.”
he winces, almost pained. your brows furrow in confusion.
“what happened, did it not go well?”
“it went perfect.” he says, smiling softly at you.
“oh.” try not to show on your face that your heart is shattered, you tell yourself. “good. that’s great.”
you look down at the floor as he huffs out a small, quiet laugh.
“y/n.” he looks at you. you look up at him. “i need to tell you something-“
“wait.” you cut him off. you know what’s coming. julie is great and he wants to be serious about her so he’s ending things between you two, though he hopes you can still be friends because he’d hate to lose you and blah blah blah. “i know what you’re going to say.”
steve frowns, confusion shining in his ocean blue eyes. goddamn, how can he be so beautiful? it would piss you off if it didn’t hurt so much.
“i know you want to end things and i agree, we had fun but now you’re with julie and-“
“no.” he cuts you off, making you confused. “you didn’t let me finish.”
“okay. what were you going to say?” you ask him, bracing for impact. his eyes soften, almost as if he’s can tell what’s going through your head. is it obvious that you love him more than anything?
“i heard you talking to wanda the other day.” oh no. he shakes his head. “but i heard it all wrong. i only heard the last part of it and i thought you wanted to move on from this, from us.” he pauses. “but julie was there too and heard the entire thing.”
understanding starts creeping into your expression.
“steve…” you say, trying to come up with something, anything to save your heart from the pain of rejection. nothing comes to mind.
“you love me.” he says, more serious than you’ve ever seen him, though there is a softness there. you mistake it for pity.
you swallow harshly. you lip begins trembling but you bite it down and try to get the next few words out. soon enough he’ll leave and you’ll be able to cry it all out alone in your bedroom.
“steve, i get it. you want to be friends. you don’t feel the same. it’s fine-“
“i don’t feel the same?” he asks. then he grabs your hand and puts it over his heart. it’s beating erratically, like yours does when he’s near. “y/n, i love you.”
your world stops.
steve.
your steve…
loves you?
“i-“ you finally let go of your trembling lip and a tear escapes your eye. steve wipes it away with his thumb and then he cups your jaw. “i don’t understand.”
“sweetheart,” he begins, “i’ve been in love with you for so long, how could i not? you’re perfect. you’re my dream girl.” he frowns, hand now caressing your jaw. “but i thought you didn’t want a relationship. you always roll your eyes at romantic scenes in movies and claim that love is a waste of time-“
you wince.
“i lied.” he looks at you patiently. you purse your lips and close your eyes, then you sigh. “i’ve always encountered people who… who weren’t great, you know? loving them was a weakness and they hurt me. i just…” you shake your head looking down. with his hand he guides your face back to him.
“you just what?” he asks softly.
“i just couldn’t admit it. that i wanted it. that i wanted… love.”
if eyes could shape shift into hearts, that’s what steve’s would’ve been doing.
“if only i had known, sweetheart, i would’ve-“ he shakes his head. “i would’ve told you sooner.”
“you really mean it?”
“baby, the second i kissed you for the first time i already knew i was a goner.”
you purse your lips to stop yourself rom giggling, but eventually do it anyway.
then you sober up.
“i’m not good at this.” you tell him. “i’m a bit… jaded.”
“we’ll go slow.” he assures you and you shake your head.
“i don’t want slow. i love you.” you tell him finally. steve breathes out in disbelief.
“then we won’t go slow.” he says, nodding. you grin.
hiiiiii, just wanted to let you guys know (for the ones who have sent me requests) that i truly appreciate them and i’m working on them though it might take some time cause im really busy right now with personal things and work. thank u so much to the people who have told me they read and love my stories, you are truly the kindest and it makes me very happy!!!!!!
she toes the line between them, he says he’s new at this (john logan x female reader)
a/n: he’s just so <333 !!!!! accepting request for him!!!
masterlist
…
the first time you talk to john logan, you fall and drop your coffee.
on him.
and no, you don’t fall because he’s attractive, or because he’s sort of famous on campus, or because you’re a clumsy cute girl from a wattpad novel written by a twelve year old in 2014.
you fall because you’re carrying three heavy textbooks, two notebooks and one laptop on your left arm, whilst trying to balance a coffee cup and a small bag with a donut inside on your right hand. and john logan had no better idea than to talk to his other kind of famous friend, garrett graham, walking backwards and gesturing exaggeratedly with his hands.
so lo and behold…
you.
on the floor.
papers everywhere.
and coffee right on his shoes.
god, you really wanted that coffee.
“oh god, you okay? i’m so sorry!” he tells you while he helps you up. meanwhile garrett graham barely contains his laughter. you don’t know at the time that he’s not laughing at you, but rather at his friend.
“y-yeah. i’m fine.” you tell him as he crouches on the floor and starts picking up your things. “you don’t need to… do that. its okay, really.”
he looks up at you, all your things in his hands as if they don’t weigh a thing.
“are you kidding? i need to do this and i also need to buy you another coffee. i’m sorry, again.” he tells you before his friend pats him on the shoulder and leaves.
you purse your lips. he stands up.
“its not necessary, i also ruined your shoes.”
“oh, these? they’ve seen worse. come on,” he says, your things still in his hands, “there’s a coffee stand over there that has coffee that actually tastes like coffee and not a watered down version of it.”
you exhale through your nose, almost a laugh, but not quite. he looks at you, grinning.
you nod. and off you go.
…
the second time you talk to john logan, well, you don’t really talk at all.
turns out that pulling an all-nighter was not for you, you realize as you walk your way down the stairs into the classroom like a zombie dragging heavy chains behind you.
it’s not until you sit down and groan and curse under your breath— something along the lines of this goddamn class and social injustice and god why did i stay awake all goddamn night???— that you hear a chuckle from behind you. you turn your head, frowning, and there he is.
your frown immediately softens, now a bit embarrassed by your little overreaction.
you narrow your eyes because he’s clearly amused by your state but he just lifts his hand and waves, mouthing a hi.
a smile tugs at your lips, but before you can say anything, the professor enters the space and starts the class.
…
the third time you talk to john logan, you’ve just received a bad grade. from that all-night study session. that clearly didn’t work.
now, to be fair, you got a b+, which is, by most people’s standards, pretty okay. but you’re on a scholarship that depends on you getting good grades, if not perfect ones, and while one average grade won’t make them take away the help, it still makes the perfectionist in you freak out.
after you receive the grade, you spend the rest of the class spiraling.
it’s not until the class is over and almost everyone has cleared the room that a hand lands on your shoulder softly.
“hey, coffee girl. you okay?”
startled, you look up. and there he is, again. there’s a frown in between his brows and concern covering his features. why would he be concerned? he doesn’t even know my name.
and you blurt it out.
he blinks. then, very slowly, he smiles.
he says your name, almost as if testing it out, as if he’d gotten used to calling you coffee girl in his head.
“logan. john. but most people call me logan.” he tells you.
you give him a small, polite smile.
“nice to officially meet you.”
“yeah.” he runs a hand through his hair. it looks soft. stop. “you um… you okay? you seemed a bit…”
you raise your eyebrows.
“in a crisis?”
he chuckles.
“yeah. kinda.”
“i got a bad grade.”
he furrows his brows.
“oh.”
you purse your lips.
“yeah.” you blink, then you realize he probably doesn’t know what to say so you choose to reassure him. “but it’s fine, i’ll just have to study harder next time.”
“right.” he looks down at his shoes. then his eyes snap up to yours and it looks like he’s just had the best idea in the history of ideas. “i could help you, if you want. i mean, i got an a+.”
your eyes widen.
“you- what?”
“hey, don’t sound so surprised.”
you shake you head and move your hands in front of you frantically.
“n-no, no! i just meant… wow. that’s a good grade.” he smirks, amused.
“yeah, some say it’s the best.”
a loud laugh escapes you and you quickly put your hand over your mouth in embarrassment, but he just full on grins.
“so…”
you blink rapidly.
“y-yeah, yes. please help me.”
he smiles.
“it’s settled then.”
…
the fourth time you talk to john logan, you actually have a really nice conversation.
“hey,”
“hi,” you tell him as he sets his things down on the table and sits next to you. “thanks you for doing this.”
he waves you off with a gesture of his hand.
“oh, it’s no problem.”
the library is quiet—specially at this time of night— as he pulls out a notebook from his backpack.
“shall we?”
you smile and nod.
after a while, you both are blinking slowly, and your movements are becoming sluggish. still, you need to study and you don’t want to stop until he tells you the session is over. after all, he’s the one that’s using his free time to help you out for nothing in return.
you hear your name being called and snap out of your haze.
you blink a few times and realize he’d been talking to you. and you were staring into nothingness.
“sorry.” you say sheepishly.
he smiles.
“it’s okay.” he says before pursing his lips in thought. “i think we’re done for tonight. you hungry? cause i am.”
“i-“ he raises his eyebrows. “y-yeah, a little.”
“then let’s get you something to eat. a reward for the torture you just endured,” he pauses, “hearing me talk for three hours straight.”
you laugh loudly, thank god the library was pretty much empty by that time, and then look shocked by the sound that came out of you. but he doesn’t seem to mind it, because he’s grinning from ear to ear.
after you pack your things, you both walk in silence to a pizza place near there. you order and sit down with your slices.
he starts eating immediately, but you find the slice to be too hot, so you wait a bit, awkwardly.
he swallows, looks at you and wipes his hands on a napkin.
“you alright?”
you smile softly.
“yeah, just too hot.”
“thank you.”
you blink.
“that was bad, wasn’t it?” he asks.
you grin.
“quite.”
his laugh is loud, unbothered.
“hey, i forgot to ask you. what grade did you get?”you tilt your head. he explains. “so we can know how much studying we have to do.”
“oh, um… a b+.” you mutter and start digging into your pizza with a plastic fork and knife.
“sorry?” he leans in to hear you better.
“a b+.” you say, louder this time.
john logan blinks. once. twice.
“a b+ made you freak out?”
you open your mouth, then close it like a fish trying to breathe out of water.
“well, yes.”
he narrows his eyes and gestures to you.
“are you like an overachiever or something?”
you snort.
“i have to be if i want to keep studying here.”
understanding crosses his features.
“you’re on a scholarship.”
“yup.” you say, popping the p.
“me too.”
you look at him.
“really?”
“yeah, though mine relies on being very good at hockey.”
“and are you?”
he smiles.
“i try to be.”
you nod. then you look down at the pizza.
“i also try.” you tell him. “not at hockey but-“
“everything else.” he finishes for you.
“yeah,” you say on an exhale. “i just- no other choice.” you tell him.
“i get that.” he nods. then he looks thoughtful. “no one’s coming to save people like us. we need to figure it out ourselves.”
you look at him. your smile widens.
“exactly.”
he smiles before gesturing to your paper plate with his head.
“now eat, you did the best you could today, tomorrow will be better.”
and you’re not sure why, but you believe him.
that was the beginning of the end.
…
months later…
you’re both watching a movie on your laptop in your room, laying down on your bed, when you realize it.
“he has a sort of stupidity in his eyes you’ll only find in certain pigeons.” you say as the male character walks into a coffee shop.
john chokes on his water.
“what are you even saying at this point?”
you shrug.
“the truth.”
he laughs loudly.
“that he’s… stupid as a pigeon?”
“no!” you laugh. “that he has the same stupidity in his eyes that you would find in a pigeons.”
he shakes his head, almost trying to rid himself of the conversation.
“you know, i can’t believe i’m saying this because usually i can follow your ramblings, but… i’m-“
“flabbergasted?” you ask, interrupting him.
“lost.” he raises his eyebrows. “flabbergasted?”
you grin. he rolls his eyes affectionately.
“you know,” you begin, movie long forgotten by this point, “you’re the only one who can follow my ramblings.”
he looks at you.
“about pigeons?”
you shrug nonchalantly.
“about anything.”
he smirks softly. you look away.
then he nudges you with his elbow.
“you’re not that hard to follow.” the way he says it makes your stomach lurch. you try to play it off.
“gee, thanks.”
he snorts.
“you know what i mean.”
you purse your lips to stop yourself from smiling.
you know what he means.
because he isn’t hard to follow either.
…
it’s at a party where everything changes. when the end is finally in sight.
you’d both been acting… weird. there was a tension that neither of you spoke about, but it was there, and everybody noticed it. and worst of all, you heard that some puck bunny liked him and was planning on making a move tonight.
and she was pretty and cool and everything you weren’t. everything he deserved.
you went there early to help tucker make the dippables, and he hadn’t been there.
still wasn’t. apparently practice was running late.
you were about to text him when some shouts echoed in the house.
garrett and dean were entering through the front door. where is-
john.
there he is. entering the house calmly, completely different than the other two who love the attention.
he spots you immediately. he always does. and he grins.
but before he can approach you, a really pretty girl approaches him— it takes you a second to realize it the girl— and puts her hand on his bicep while whispering something in his ear.
you know what that means, so you look away, trying to spare yourself the hurt. and suddenly, you don’t feel like being at this party anymore.
you get up to leave, knowing that none of the boys will hold it against you since you’ve been there for hours already.
what you don’t notice though, is john looking longingly at your leaving figure.
…
now in your room, after saying your good nights to hannah and allie, you lay on your bed, defeated.
why’d i have to fall for a guy so many people fawn over?
the thing is, he wasn’t just any guy. he was john. and that meant something. well, it meant everything. he did.
and he was probably sleeping with someone else right now, which he had the absolute right to do, because you were a complete and total coward and couldn’t admit your feelings, not even to your best friends. though you had a feeling they knew.
somehow, you manage to almost fall asleep after a bit of wallowing in self pity. well, you would’ve totally fallen asleep if a really loud knock hadn’t resounded against your… window?
who knocks on windows these days?
oh god, you’re getting murdered tonight. you sit up slowly in the darkness, trying to not let the killer know you’re there.
your name said by a voice you know all too well makes you stop.
“john?” you say as you move towards the window and open it.
he very awkwardly manages to enter through it and stands there in your dark room, a bit proud of himself due to not falling. still, there’s something bothering him, you can tell. maybe the thing with the puck bunny didn’t go so well.
guilt twists your stomach at the relief you feel by thinking that.
“hey,” he says.
“what are you doing here?” he looks at you.
“you left.”
your lips purse.
“yeah, i was just tired.”
“but you didn’t say goodbye.”
he sounds genuinely sad.
“i- you were busy.”
his brows furrow.
“busy?”
“yeah… with that… girl.” you say, looking down at your hands. “didn’t wanna interrupt.”
“what girl?”
“john, don’t play dumb.”
he sighs, and runs a hand through his hair. then he looks at you.
“if you’re talking about melissa, she did try to flirt but i shut her down.”
your eyes widen a bit.
“why would you do that?”
“why-“ he laughs, though it’s not amused. it’s almost… frustrated.
“john?”
his eyes close for a moment and breathes in and out one time like he’s bracing himself for someone to punch him. then he opens them, and says your name so softly you almost don’t hear it.
you instinctively step closer.
“hey… what’s- what’s going on?”
he shakes his head, like he can’t bring himself to say it.
you look at him. his posture is stiff, yet his eyes are soft. and then you start thinking about the way he laughed before when you asked why he rejected the girl like it was obvious…
oh.
oh.
“john…”
“i’m new at this.” he says before grabbing your hands. “and apparently i’m not very good at it.”
you open your mouth to speak but he begs you with his eyes to let him finish.
“i love you.” he says, simply. “i’ve loved you for months and i’ve been trying to tell you but i- i’m a coward.”
“you’re not.” you say, frowning. “you’re the bravest person i know.” he laughs softly.
“apparently not when it comes to you.”
your eyes soften and you caress his cheekbone with your thumb, now closer than you’ve ever been to him.
“well then we’re both cowards.” he opens his mouth, about to ask you but you stop him. “cause i love you too.”
“you- you do?”
you purse your lips to stop yourself from smiling, and he can tell.
“of course i do.”
“i-“
“are you-“
“if you say flabbergasted i swear to god.”
your laugh is loud and carefree and so relieved and it only dies down a little when he leans forward.
“john…”
“please let me kiss you.”
your small but confident nod is all he needs to fully lean into you, and when his lips finally lay on top of yours, peace settles in your bones. and as both your mouths move together in sync you know: you just came home.
when you pull away, your foreheads resting against the others, you’re both panting.
“i think,” he starts slowly, “i think i’ve loved you since that day you laughed too loudly at the diner.”
“to be completely honest,” you begin and he waits expectantly, “your joke was really bad.”
he laughs and rolls his eyes.
“you’re impossible.”
“and yet…” you tell him. he smirks.
“yet, you’re my favorite person in the world, coffee girl.”
never thought i’d find you, but you’re here, and so i love you (bucky barnes x female reader)
summary: when an accident in the lab causes 40s bucky to appear with all his charm and one liners and mended heart, its up to reader to let present bucky know that she doesn’t wish for him to be like that or any different.
a/n: i had this idea for a while!!!! needed to write it. i love bucky barnes so much!!!!! <3
masterlist
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the first conversation you have with bucky barnes, if you could even call it that, he isn’t very friendly. but neither are you.
“buck, this is y/n, the new member of our team.” you smile at him, awkward. you’ve never been very good with people. he looks at you and simply nods. relief floods you when he doesn’t seem to want to talk. then, he turns to steve.
“i have to go train.” steve raises his eyebrows, surprised at his best friends rudeness, but eventually just nods with a tight lipped smile.
“alright, i’ll show y/n around.” and then, the brooding man leaves. steve turns to you.
“i’m sorry about him. he’s still… adjusting.”
you shake your head and try to give him a convincing smile. something that makes you look like a functional human.
“it’s fine. don’t worry about it.”
while the reassurance is automatic, you still mean it. you know his story, you understand not trusting people, and really, he doesn’t owe you anything other than basic decency.
…
the second conversation you have with bucky barnes, he still isn’t very friendly. and again, neither are you.
he’s in the kitchen when you enter. sam is also there and he greets you kindly. you’re still new here and you haven’t made any friends, but everyone is nice.
bucky doesn’t even glance at you as he stirs his coffee. you gulp, debating whether you should tell him that he’s in the way of you grabbing a mug. sam’s phone rings and he mutters something about a meeting he forgot.
you stand there, frozen. staring.
slowly, with narrowed eyes, bucky barnes turns to you.
“did you need something?”
your mouth opens and closes in a failed attempt to speak. he raises an eyebrow.
“y-yeah, yes. a mug. it’s kind of…” you gesture with your head to the cupboard that he’s in front of, “over here.”
“ah,” he nods curtly and then steps aside to let you grab what you need.
you don’t say thank you, but you do try to offer a small grateful smile. though you’re sure you look like you’re in pain.
…
the third conversation you have with bucky barnes, well, isn’t a conversation at all.
the mission had been a mess. every single thing that was planned did not happen and instead every thing that everybody planned on not happening happened.
you find yourself crying in the kitchen at four am after a nightmare. memory, what a tricky thing. for a moment you almost believe you’re living a double life, parallel to the present.
you don’t hear him come in. so you don’t stop crying silently.
when you finally do see him, he just walks into the kitchen as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening, and you quickly try to wipe the evidence of sadness off your face.
as you look down at your hands on the table, you hear him tinkering around. you don’t glance at him. you’re not sure why you don’t just get up and leave, something glueing you to the chair.
suddenly, a metal hand appears on your periphery, holding a mug. he slides it to you, and you notice its tea. then, he sits down in the chair in front of you and takes a sip from his own mug, quietly.
for a while, he sips and you stare at your mug. it’s all silent, not even your breathing can be heard.
you don’t say thank you, this time because you don’t want to disrupt the almost peace that has settled, though you do grab the mug in between your hand gently and take a sip, looking at him.
he seems to understand.
it doesn’t take him long to realize that you understand too.
and together, you help each other be functional.
…
a year later…
“good morning!” you say as soon as you enter the kitchen, clearly in a great mood.
“good morning…?” sam says, confused.
“yes! it is a good morning!”
“why’s that?” steve asks as he enters the kitchen with bucky right behind him. he smiles softly at you and you feel so warm you think you must’ve swallowed the sun.
“why’s that?” you repeat. “why not? the sun is shining, the birds are singing, bucky is gonna rewatch tangled with me once again…”
understanding crosses the features of sam and steve, and bucky raises his eyebrows.
“uh, since when?” he asks.
“since… now?” you look at him pleadingly. “come on buck, you love it, you always sing along.”
“no, i complain while you sing along.”
“exactly, it’s like our thing.”
“you two seem to have a lot of things.” sam says with narrowed eyes.
“well, yeah, i’m his favorite. sorry steve.” you tell him, not even a little bit sorry.
steve just rolls his eyes playfully as bucky huffs out a laugh. then he looks at you thoughtfully.
“you’re not gonna leave me alone until i watch it with you, right?”
you grin.
“nope.”
he sighs, faking exasperation.
“fine.”
“that took so much convincing.” you say sarcastically.
“yeah, i think he would jump off a building if you asked him nicely.” sam mutters loud enough for everyone to hear.
“i would never. unless he ate my ice cream.”
bucky looks at you, scandalized.
“i wouldn’t! i know how serious ice cream is to you, doll.”
“god buck, you just get me.” you tell him, wiping imaginary tears with your index finger.
“alright, we get it. can you get a room?” sam asks, rolling his eyes.
“yup, that’s exactly what we’re doing.” the three men look at you with wide eyes. “to watch tangled, guys. god, get your heads out of the gutter!” you laugh. “come on, bucky!”
and you drag him by the arm away from the kitchen.
…
“hey buck?” he hums as he gets more comfortable on your couch, the movie almost halfway done. “you would be a good flynn rider. like, in a live action movie or a play or something.”
bucky sputters, and looks at you like you’ve suddenly grown two heads.
“i would- what?”
you nod repeatedly, sure in your statement.
“yeah, you’d be a good flynn rider. you’ve got that whole… thing going for you.” you say, gesturing all around him with your hands.
“thing?” he says, eyebrows raised.
“mhm, that whole rugged hot guy thing.”
he frowns.
“im not rugged- did you just call me hot?”
“yeah, bucky, keep up. everybody here looks like they came right out of a vogue cover.”
“i-“ he stops, sighs, then shakes his head, like trying to rid himself of the absurdity of the conversation. “just watch the movie, doll.”
“but-“
“look, it’s your favorite part!” he cuts you off, using two fingers to redirect your face to the tv screen.
you huff, but continue watching, enjoying his presence.
…
you’re having breakfast with nat and clint, chatting about anything and everything, when they both pause and look at you.
“so…” nat begins.
“so…” you repeat.
“should i say so too?”
you snort at clint’s question but nat rolls her eyes.
“i heard that yesterday you and barnes were in your room watching a movie.”
“uh huh…”
“alone.”
realization hits you.
“oh.”
“yeah, oh.”
you sigh. one thing about natasha romanoff was that she knew everything. it also didn’t help that you told her everything, her being your best friend and all. so she knew about you. and bucky. and you and bucky. together only in your silly and hopeful and stupid heart.
“did you finally make a move?” clint asks, leaning forward in his chair.
you scoff, almost offended.
“make a move? he’s not some random guy at a bar. he’s-“
“bucky.” he says.
“your bucky.” nat says in a mockingly sweet tone.
“okay-“ you deadpan. though the heat you feel on your body says that you don’t really mind calling him that.
you just wish it were true.
“come on,” nat says, “he’s in love with you too, you know? that’s why he’s so comfortable around you.”
“he’s- not. i’m just one of his closest friends.”
“steve has been his best friend since they were born and he doesn’t act like that with him.”
“i have to agree there.” clint says. “he does not look at steve with hearts in his eyes.”
“he doesn’t-“
“oh my god, you are so stubborn!” she says. “that’s why you’re perfect together.”
“nat.” you tell her. “please, just drop it.”
“why?”
“i just-“ you purse your lips. you won’t tell them that this is not a crush, that you’re not just head over heals in love with him like a normal regular person falls in love with another. you won’t tell them that he’s everything, that he’s the reason why the world is bearable, that he helped you be who you are now, that he- that there is no you without him. so you just look at both of them pleadingly and say: “please.”
they stop insisting after that.
…
“sam, if you don’t give me back my pancake i swear to god-“
“your pancake? i made them!” he protests while bucky and steve look at both of you in amusement.
“for me, right?” you do the best impression of the doe eyes you can muster. sam looks at you. he blinks. and sighs dramatically. then he hands you the plate.
“thanks sammy!” you tell him as you kiss his cheek.
you sit at the table and begin talking with the three of them, until tony shows up, trying to catch his breath like he’d been running.
“hey- hi- hello- i-“
steve narrows his eyes.
“what did you do now, tony?”
“well, you see, it was actually bruce’s fault-“
“it was not my fault” bruce says now entering the kitchen.
“okay, so it was my fault, what does it matter?” he says, gesturing around with his hands like a maniac.
“tony, what happened?” you ask. he looks at you. then he looks pointedly at bucky, and he freezes under the intense stare. you frown in confusion and a bit of worry. tony smiles sheepishly probably for the first time in his life.
“you should see it for yourselves.”
…
steve gapes.
sam stares wide eyed.
tony and bruce fidget nervously.
you blink once. twice.
and bucky… well…
he’s completely frozen.
he’s completely frozen because in front of you, on the other side of the glass doors of the lab, is bucky. but not the bucky you know. nope. it’s bucky… from the forties.
you recognize him immediately, the haircut, the youthful expression as he looks around the place, the sergeant uniform. the arm. more specifically, two flesh arms. no metal in sight.
it takes the young version of bucky a few minutes to realize that you’re all looking at him, and he waves at tony and bruce, almost like he has known them all his life.
“alright, here goes nothing.” tony says, pressing a code on a screen and causing the doors to open.
and there he stands. forties bucky.
“i- tony- how?” steve asks first, stepping forward.
“hey pal.” forties bucky tells him.
steve freezes. then he breathes out.
“hey buck.”
sam narrows his eyes and gets closer.
“damn, i get why he was a ladies man. hell, i would’ve fallen for him back in the day.”
forties bucky smirks, amused. then he looks behind sam to you and his future version.
his eyes go back and forth, and eventually settle on present bucky, who steps forward.
“stark,” he begins, calmly. perhaps too calm, you think. “what the hell did you do?”
you don’t know why, but you’re sure that bucky needs you right now. so you step forward and lay a hand on his upper arm.
forties bucky looks at you.
“hey there,”
“hi.” you offer him a small awkward smile. everything’s weird. you don’t know what to do. then you look at the pair of mad scientists in front of you, though you feel bad for thinking of bruce like that. “what did you guys do?”
“so, here’s the thing-“
“tony, let me, please.” bruce cuts him off. tony raises his hands in surrender and shrugs. then bruce starts talking, looking at you and present bucky. “we were working on a teleportation machine, if you will.”
you nod.
“and?”
“and we basically miscalculated the amount of energy we could create with it, which inevitably created a wormhole through space and time and brought the younger version of bucky to this timeline.”
you all stay silent.
“if i may-“ tony begins but steve cuts him off.
“you may not.” he tells him disapprovingly, knowing full well that he had roped bruce into it.
“steve, we’re already working on a solution.” bruce reassures him.
“won’t that cause the present to change, y’all have never seen back to the future?” sam asks.
bruce lets out a laugh and looks at tony, but when he shakes his head and gestures to the non-laughing people, he sobers up.
“n-no. no, thats… not how it works.”
“then how does it work?” you ask.
“well, it’s really complicated, but basically this young bucky is not the younger version of our bucky, but rather a younger version of another older bucky, from a different timeline.”
“so nothing will change about our present,” tony says, “and we don’t really know the other present so it’s probably fine.”
steve raises his eyebrows.
“it’s probably fine?”
tony pauses.
“it’s…fine. it is!” he insists.
“god tony…” steve shakes his head in disbelief.
“im not hearing a god bruce over here, he was as much part of this as i am!”
you look at him, deadpan. he opens his mouth to protest, but eventually realizes that no one will believe him.
“alright, enough.” steve says. then he turns to bruce. “you said you’re working on a solution. what do we do in the meantime?”
sam purses his lips.
“show him to a room…? i mean he’s staying here for the time being.” he says.
“buck, is that alright?” steve asks him.
bucky just turns to leave, not before saying over his shoulder:
“it’s fine.”
…
the days pass, and while forties bucky seems to be thriving, quite literally enchanting everyone at the compound, present bucky… well, he’s not.
he hasn’t said anything to you that implies that he’s not, but you know him and you know that something’s not right. and you know that because he seems too fine. too calm. too ordinary. if only you could figure out what he was thinking…
…
steve is chirpier than usual, tony keeps asking for funny stories about his father, bruce asks scientific questions, and wanda giggles anytime forties bucky speaks her way, making vision very confused.
but forties bucky? well, he’s seems hell-bent on talking to you.
…
you’re in your pajamas making your morning cup of coffee, as usual, and another cup for bucky when his younger version comes into the kitchen.
“hey there, that for me?”
you look up.
“uh… actually it’s for your older version. but i can make another one for him. here,” you tell him as you hand him the mug.
“thanks, doll.”
you offer him a small smile.
“so…” you begin. he raises one eyebrow. “how… um… how are you?” you frown internally at how awkward you sound.
forties bucky smirks, amused.
“oh, good. just the usual stuff. getting sucked by a black hole into the future.”
you purse your lips, trying not to laugh.
“technically, it was a wormhole.”
“right.” he grins. and it hits you just how charming and outgoing and light he is. was.
suddenly, you feel the urge to go see bucky.
“you alright?” he asks, probably because your smile dropped in a matter of a second.
you look at him.
“y-yeah. yes. i just… forgot i have to be somewhere. yes! somewhere… else. bye!”
and you’re gone, walking fast towards the elevator, almost punching in the floor to your favorite place in the entire structure.
his room.
…
you knock three times.
then another.
and another.
one more for good measure.
but nothing happens.
you don’t hear shuffling on the other side of the door. you don’t hear bucky’s slow breathing.
he’s not there.
you think it through for about two seconds before you decide: you’re going in. it’s not like you’ve never just entered bucky’s room without him explicitly telling you to come in, it’s just that you’ve never done that without him being in the room. and for some reason that makes you nervous.
you take a deep breath and turn the handle, slowly creaking open the door.
when you step inside, everything seems normal. bucky’s bed is made, but poorly. you always tease him about it, about his messy way of organizing and cleaning, but secretly you adore it. it’s imperfect, it’s real, and it’s so bucky.
you walk even further into the bedroom and inhale his scent that’s all over the place. it’s his body wash mixed with the leather jacket he wears and something that’s smells like coming home after being away for too long. perhaps there is one word that starts with ‘L’ and ends with ‘E’ for that specific scent, but you can’t really name it right now.
you’re about to leave when something catches your eye; just under his pillow, a journal.
you don’t know why, blame it on the revolution that forties bucky has caused, because normally you would’ve never done it, but you grab it with the intention of opening it. before you can though, another thing catches your attention.
it’s a very heavily folded piece of paper, right inside his pillowcase, even more hidden than the journal. and something calls you to it. maybe destiny, maybe just curiosity.
you put the journal down on the bedside table and grab the small paper. sitting down on the bed, you unfold it slowly. and your heart stutters.
it’s a picture of you. a picture bucky took a while ago, that day that you dragged him to the forest next to the compound to have a ‘mandatory picnic’ because you found out he’d never had one.
in the photo, you’re smiling brightly. it doesn’t surprise you based on who was behind the camera. you look… you’d almost say beautiful.
why did he have that picture? why inside his pillowcase? was nat right?
you hold the picture to your chest as you close your eyes, trying to calm down your erratic heartbeat.
suddenly, you hear footsteps outside. quickly, you move to place everything back where it was. you’re about to fold the picture exactly the same when you pause. something is written on the back of it.
your eyes read over the words, and a lump forms in your throat, making you forget that bucky is probably about to come in and see you invading his privacy.
i would’ve deserved her back then.
…
when the door finally opens, he just stares at you, wide-eyed. there’s a flash of fear in his eyes, that is then very quickly replaced by betrayal.
“bucky-“
“what are you doing?” he asks you coldly.
“i’m- i was- i just wanted to see you but then you weren’t here and i-“
“so you decided to go through my things?” he cuts you off.
“n-no! i mean, i just saw it and i don’t know why-“ you take in a sharp breath. “i’ve just been so… worried about you. and… i don’t know. i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” you say tearfully.
he just looks at you. slowly, his expression softens. he’s still on edge though, you can tell. probably because of what you saw. bucky huffs out a laugh that’s everything but amused. it’s a bitter sound, and you hate it coming out of his lips.
“so, you saw it?”
you consider lying for just a second, but decide against it, so you nod, looking at the floor. you’re about to say sorry again when you remember exactly what you saw.
your eyes fall on his face. he’s looking at you with a neutral expression. you know its not real.
“what did you mean by that?”
he blinks. you wait.
then he runs a hand through his hair and huffs again.
“do you really need me to explain it?”
you’re not sure what it is, maybe his tone, the words, the huff of air he lets out, but suddenly, you know exactly what he meant by it. you open your mouth to speak, but fall silent immediately. there’s too much to say and the words feel like they’re fighting against each other.
so you stand up from the bed, and slowly approach him.
as you get closer, he looks at you. his expression is raw. once you’re at arms length from him, you stop.
“bucky.” you say softly.
“don’t.” he pleads.
“bucky,” you repeat, even softer.
he looks at you. you smile, encouraging.
“explain it to me.”
he closes his eyes. for a moment you think he’s going to shut down, to kick you out, to never mention this again. and you wouldn’t blame him for it. it’s just that… you love him.
“he’s…” he sighs, defeated. “he’s funny. and he’s not broken. and everybody likes him and i don’t blame them.” he shakes his head, looking down. then he looks up and into your eyes. “i could’ve been good.”
and that last sentence, it kills you.
it kills you because you know he means it.
“you are good.”
air comes out of his nose as he almost laughs at what you just said, wanting to shut it down. but you won’t let him. you won’t.
“listen to me, bucky. you are good, but you’re also so much more than good.”
“but i’m not him.” he tells you, defeated. “he would’ve-“
you purse your lips. you know what he’s going to say. because you read it. so you shrug.
“you’re right. you’re not. and bucky,” you tell him, voice soft, “he’s funny, and charming, and gorgeous.”
you pause. he looks at you. then you smile.
“but he’s not you. he’s not my bucky.”
“y/n-“ he tries to speak but you raise a hand so he’ll let you finish.
“buck, listen to me. i need you to listen to me.” you say, full of determination. “i need you to know that i don’t just tolerate or accept you. i encourage you. i adore you. i think you’re the funniest, smartest, kindest person in the world. i think that you were unbroken, and then you broke, and then you put all the pieces back together. and i know, not in the same way, you’ll never be the same as you were before, but you’re still beautiful, you’re still you. still my bucky.
this is the version of you that i met, this is the version that stood by me ever since that day you found me crying in the kitchen at four am. this version, you, are the reason i want to keep fighting. and i don’t care about deserving, though you do, because this is the version i want.”
when you finish, your chest is rising and falling fast, like you’ve just run a marathon. you actually did something more straining: you bared your entire heart.
bucky is stunned in front of you. but there’s something in his eyes, something you can’t quite read, but it makes you shiver.
“y/n,” he says in a breath. he shakes his head and lets out a small disbelieving laugh. “fuck, i love you.”
you swallow.
“i love you too, buck.”
he shakes his head again, thinking you didn’t understand him.
“no, doll.” he says as he steps closer to you, so close you can feel his breath on your face. his flesh hand cradles your cheek. “i love you.” he says again, and this time, when you look at him, he knows you know.
your eyes shine with love and adoration and barely contained devotion.
“bucky,” you say breathily, heart feeling like it’s going to escape your chest. your lower lip trembles. “i love you too.”
and he kisses you.
his lips, so soft, so gentle, are on yours, almost scared, fully reverent. but after a few moments of just a press of lips, the kiss turns more insistent. more passionate.
bucky is kissing you like a man starved that has just been served a full meal and he can’t stop eating for one second, not even to breathe, not even to make sure he doesn’t choke.
the rest of the night goes by in a blur. but you’ve never felt a clearer mind than with the man you can now confidently call yours.
and as you lay naked, twisted in his sheets, head on his chest, you know. there’s no other version of him that you could love more.
summary: basically steve and reader are together, peggy reappears through a time traveling machine, reader thinks steve will leave her and pushes him away. yay.
a/n: i love peggy carter so this is not the place to be a hater. enjoy!!!
masterlist
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you don’t know how you got here. avoiding the man you know to be the love of your life, unsure whether he wants to stay or go.
you suppose there was a catalyst, a big one a few days ago…
…
the light coming in from the open window blinds you and you shut your eyes tightly while a groan escapes your mouth. you hear a chuckle behind you, then his scratchy beard against your shoulder as he nuzzles into you.
“morning, sweetheart.” he says, voice raspy and oh so hot.
you can’t stop the grin that plasters itself on your face.
“good morning, stevie.” your body turns until you’re face to face with him and you start running your fingers through his hair. he moans softly with his eyes closed and you swallow the heat it makes you feel. god, you love him like this. just yours. your stevie.
when he finally looks at you, his sleepy eyes shine with love.
“any plans today?”
you scrunch up your nose and he sighs, already knowing the answer. you’ve been together for long enough that he knows every single one of your expressions.
“i’m gonna kill tony one of these days.”
you gasp, faking surprise.
“captain america? murder?” he bites his lip, but you can tell he wants to laugh at your antics.
“it’s romantic, honey. i would be killing him so he wouldn’t make you work all the time and we could spend all day together.”
“oh,” you tell him, getting closer to his face and almost putting your lips to his, “i didn’t see it like that, now i get it.”
you stare at each other before bursting out in laughter. as he sobers up, he looks at you still laughing and can’t help but pull you closer with the arm that’s around your waist.
“can i go with you?” he asks, doing his best impression of the puppy dog eyes.
“you’ll be bored and tony will get antsy.” he is still looking at you with those goddamn eyes and you have to sigh. this man, you just can’t say no to him. “alright, but if tony gets annoying, don’t say i didn’t warn you.”
“yes ma’am.” he grins, and so do you.
…
getting ready with steve was a mixture between actually getting ready and kissing and laughing like teenagers who didn’t want to get caught by their parents. ever since you two met, almost three years ago, there was something about him that made you feel… unguarded. free. safe. safe to be who you were, who you felt like being in the moment, who you wanted to be. and in turn, you were his calm space, his no expectations other than be yourself space. and his girl.
…
“oh, i see you brought the boyfriend.”
you snort when you look at steve’s already exasperated face.
“tony, we’ve known each other for almost a decade.”
tony just shrugs as he tinkers with some things on the table.
the lab is where you both work. well, more like where he works and you organize. you’re not fully educated to know all the things he does, but you are creative so he always appreciates your input.
“what are you doing?” you ask him.
“trying to fix this quantum reactor so our little invention actually teleports people and doesn’t pulverize them on the spot.”
you nod.
“yeah, that would be… ideal.”
tony smirks.
“so… got anything?”
steve looks at you curiously and you grin.
“actually, i do.”
getting closer to the table, you grab a tablet and use your voice command to have F.R.I.D.A.Y pull up some files.
“so, we have the energy.” you begin.
“if i can fix the reactor then-“
you cut tony off.
“you will. so,” you continue, “we have the energy, now we need a stabilizer.” tapping a few things on the tablet, you continue talking. “we’ve tried creating exotic matter with things like helium, but what if we use metal as our superconductor? more specifically… vibranium?”
tony narrows his eyes as steve looks at both of you in confusion.
“that… could work.” you smile. “it could also fry the entirety of new york.” your smile drops.
“but-“
“we have to try it.” he finishes.
“really?” you ask, hopeful. tony smiles softly and then begins walking towards the exit.
“really. i do have to ask bruce about the specifics to then ask the wakandans for the vibranium, but-“ he turns and looks at you. “you did great, kid.” and he leaves.
you turn to look at steve to find that he’s already looking at you in awe.
you feel yourself get hot under his intense gaze.
“what?” you ask shyly.
“you’re amazing, you know that?” you open your mouth to deflect the compliment but he cuts you off by grabbing your waist and pulling you in for a breathtaking kiss. when you pull away, he puts his forehead against yours. “i’m the luckiest man alive.”
you shake your head softly.
“i’m the lucky one here, stevie.”
he smiles softly and pecks your lips.
“we’re both lucky then, yeah?”
“yeah.” you say, a little breathless. “i love you.”
and steve, he melts.
“i love you more.”
…
“alright, ready?” bruce asks as he fiddles with the controls.
tony checks out a few things on the side of the machine, where the central console is. as he does that, you, steve and bucky stand there watching excitedly. and a little bit scared. bucky more than anyone, since the first trial of the teleportation machine consists of attempting to teleport his very own vibranium arm.
“one second… almost there- done!” tony exclaims. then he turns to bruce. “ready.”
you look at steve. he grabs your hand. bucky rolls his eyes playfully.
“let’s hope y/n’s idea doesn’t blow up new york.”
“bruce!” you admonish him. “you are also part of this. we are all to blame if something goes wrong.”
“sorry,” he says, guiltily, “you’re right. let’s hope we don’t blow up new york.” he corrects himself.
every one of you takes a step back, getting closer to where bruce’s location is in the lab, putting a safe distance between you and the machine that could explode.
“okay, in three, two, one…” silence. slow motion. fear.
as soon as he presses the buttons, you all prepare yourselves for the arm to disappear and reappear a few meters away from its original position. what you don’t prepare for is for nothing to happen. and when you say nothing, it means nothing. not a damn thing moves.
you feel disappointment sink into your stomach. god, you were so excited about your idea. so happy to make tony proud.
“i’m sorry kid,” he says as he puts a hand on your shoulder.
you watch with unshed tears as bucky begins walking over to the machine in order to grab his arm while steve tells you “it’s okay, sweetheart.” you don’t expect, though, the sparks that start coming out of it as soon as he grabs his vibranium limb. your friend runs back to where you’re all standing and staring at the potential explosion. the gleam becomes more intense, and the floor starts shaking, causing things that were neatly placed to fall over. you grab onto steve’s hand as he steps forward to shield you from the blast. in a second, a blue light erupts from the center of the machine and hits everything, making all of you tumble and fall to the floor.
…
your ears are ringing, and you can smell the smoke that’s probably everywhere.
“y/n! y/n!” you hear faintly. your eyes open to reveal a frantic steve, grabbing onto your shoulders and shaking you, trying to get you to wake up. when he realizes you’re conscious he sighs in relief and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly.
“is-“ your voice comes out breathy and raspy, so you clear your throat. slowly the ringing starts to fade. “everyone okay?” you ask him, wide eyes terrified.
“we’re all good, just a bit barbecued.” tony’s response makes you laugh despite the situation.
you cough and move your hand to dissipate the black smoke near you. it does not budge.
you try to look for bucky and find him at the back of the lab trying to put on him arm.
“buck!” you try to stand and find that your whole body is shaking, so you hold on to steve as you move slowly. “i’ll help you, wait.”
as you attach the arm to your friend, the smoke starts dissipating. bruce and tony ask F.R.I.D.A.Y to turn on the ventilators and start running diagnostics. steve starts walking towards you, but then everything stops.
from the black smoke emerges, not a ghost per se, but the closest thing to one you can think of.
“steve!” peggy carter stands there, in all her glory, looking confused and relieved at the same time.
and that’s when it starts.
…
after that, a lot of things happen. in order, the list goes like this:
-steve freezes.
-steve turns.
-peggy runs.
-peggy hugs him.
-he hugs her back.
…
the rest of the day goes by in a blur. peggy explains that she was in her office in the fifties when a circle, which bruce deduced was a wormhole, appeared and sucked her in. steve keeps looking at her like he’s seen a ghost and his salvation. bucky looks at you sympathetically. you pretend you don’t see it. tony comes to the conclusion that the machine, instead of teleporting people or things from place to place, somehow teleports people or things from one time to another, through a wormhole.
…
that night, when steve comes into your shared room and lays beside you, you pretend to be asleep. and when he wraps his arm around your waist and positions himself close to you, you do your best to stop your heart from breaking.
…
you try to keep it together. you really do.
days pass, in which she settles more into the rhythm of the compound.
one day, you find her alone in the kitchen.
“hi.” she says.
“hey,”
“i don’t think i’ve properly introduced myself. i’m margaret, but you can call me peggy.”
you give your best attempt at a smile. as if you didn’t already know everything about her.
“y/n, i… kind of brought you here.”
peggy’s eyebrows raise.
“well… you have quite the mind.”
you snort.
“thank you. and i’m sorry, it must be a lot to be transported to another time.”
she gives you a smile.
“it is, but… it’s nice seeing some people again.”
you stomach twists.
“i’m sure it is.” you smile, again. “anyway- i have to go. steve will drive me crazy if i miss training.”
her eyes light up at the mention of his name.
“are you two… close?” she asks in a tone you can’t really read.
you stop. what should you say? should you tell her that you’ve been together for the past couple of years, that he’s the love of your life, that you would die without him?
you swallow.
“yeah, we’re all really close here.” you offer her a polite smile and then leave.
…
after that conversation, a realization hits you: you’re going to lose him. he’s hers.
and when he realizes that she’s his too, it’s over for you.
he’ll be so nice about it, but the kindness won’t matter, after he leaves you, your heart will never mend itself again.
so you start avoiding him. when he enters a room, you find an excuse to leave. during training, you always pick bucky or natasha. at night, when he comes into your shared room, you pretend to be asleep.
conversations cut short, smiles that don’t quite reach your eyes. touches that make you feel like you’ve burnt yourself.
a week passes like that. then a week and a half. it all comes to a halt one night, exactly sixteen days since she appeared.
…
you’re in bed, reading with the bedside lamp on, when you hear footsteps outside your door. you recognize him immediately, you would be able to recognize him blind or deaf just by the rhythm of his heart. a heart that used to beat for you. or maybe it never did, maybe you were always second, a consolation prize.
quickly, you close the book and turn off the lamp, getting into the covers and laying down, pretending to be asleep.
the door opens and you can smell him. you wait with your eyes closed for the small noises of his nightly routine to start, but they never do. now that you think about it, after the door closed you stopped hearing footsteps. is he just standing there?
“i know you’re awake.”
your heart stops. you debate whether to keep pretending or face the music, and eventually realize that you can’t hide forever.
you swallow and stretch your arm to turn on the lamp. then you sit up, the covers pooling at your waist.
“i was trying to sleep.” you say meekly.
he narrows his eyes. he seems… not quite upset. but not calm either.
“you were avoiding me.”
“i wasn’t-“
“like you’ve been avoiding me for the past couple of weeks.” he cuts you off. you look off to the side, unable to face him. unable to face all of it.
what are you without him?
“y/n,” he says. you clench your jaw. “sweetheart.” your eyes close tightly.
“don’t… please.” you’re not sure what you’re asking for. not sure if you’re begging him to drop the subject, to not leave you, to not call you sweetheart or to not stop loving you.
he takes a step closer.
“don’t what?”
your breaths are becoming ragged. you stand up from the bed and walk backwards, putting more distance between you two. the look of hurt on his face shatters the last unbroken remains of your heart.
“what’s going on?” he asks, and the obliviousness in his tone agitates you.
“what’s-“ a bitter laugh escapes you. “what’s going on?”
understanding crosses his features.
“it’s about peggy, isn’t it?”
“no! it’s not about her! it’s about you!” you plead with your eyes for him to drop the subject, to let it go. to let you go.
you don’t know that steve rogers would rather face a thousand painful deaths than do that.
“what about me?”
you lower lip wobbles, and your eyes fill with tears and defeat.
“i just-“ you swallow, “i thought i would make it easier.” he tilts his head for a second, confusion covering his beautiful features. when he realizes what you mean, he takes a step forward.
you try but can’t put more distance between you because the desk behind you won’t allow it.
steve keeps walking towards you, and you close your eyes, not ready to face him fully.
when he reaches you, he doesn’t attempt to touch you. that breaks you, and silent tears start streaming down your face.
“make it easier? for who? me or you?”
you cry.
“you… me- both of us. just- can you go, please?”
“go where?” he pleads, furrowing his brows.
“go back to the fifties, go back to her, just… just go.” you say, looking down in defeat.
steve lifts his chin, and looks at you with determination.
“you’re my girl.”
that stops you.
“no, i’m not-“
“yes, you’re my girl, y/n.” he repeats.
your face contorts in pain and you shake your head.
“but i’m not your best girl.” you tell him, completely broken.
steve stops. he runs a hand down his face and sighs. then he turns and starts walking away towards the closet, beginning to rummage through it. as you finally see that he’s collecting his things to leave, a heartbreaking sob escapes you. but you frown in confusion when he quickly comes back, and stands in front of you with a small velvet box in his hand.
“what-“ you croak.
“you’re right. you’re not my best girl.” your heart pulverizes on the spot. steve looks at you softly. “you’re the love of my life, sweetheart.”
the tears stop.
“what?” you say, breathless. steve smiles softly.
“when i first met you, it took me thirty seconds to know that i was going to love you. and when i kissed you for the first time, after our first official date, i knew i would love you forever. i knew i wanted to marry you, so i went and got a ring. you can ask buck, he said he’d never seen me like that, so sure.” he puts the box in your hands hesitantly and then cups your face in between his palms, smiling at you so softly, so full of love and devotion, your heart starts mending itself again. steve's eyes are shining with unshed tears as he keeps speaking. “you’re the love of my life, the woman of my dreams, my everything. i don’t want to be with anyone else and i don’t want to be anywhere else other than here, with you. with my sweetheart.”
“steve..” your shiny eyes look over his beautiful face, the face you know and love, the face you want to wake up to forever and ever. “i thought-“ you hiccup, “i just- i was so scared, i can’t- can’t lose you, stevie.”
he shakes his head.
“you can’t lose me, baby. you can’t.” a grin starts appearing on his face. “much less if you marry me. so… will you- marry me?”
you laugh through your tears.
“yes!” you exclaim. “yes, yes, yes!” you repeat and steve kisses you, laughing.
“i love you so much, sweetheart. i promise i’ll never let you forget that you’re everything to me. ”
summary: inspired by the song afterglow by taylor swift. you let jealousy get in the way of the love you and rafe share. will you be able to fix it?
a/n: i am taking requests for this man after posting this aaand also for the mcu (bucky barnes, steve rogers, natasha romanoff) hope u enjoy this!!!! <3
masterlist
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i blew things out of proportion, now you're blue
put you in jail for something you didn't do
i pinned your hands behind your back, oh
thought i had reason to attack, but no
you don’t know how you got here, at the front door of poguelandia trying to wipe the tears streaming down your face as rafe runs his hands down his face in exhaustion.
“i don’t understand where this is coming from, y/n.” he says. “we were fine like half an hour ago.”
“we were fine, until you decided to flirt with another woman!”
“who- where-“ he stumbles over his sentence, almost like he doesn’t know where you got that idea.
“the blonde in the kitchen.” you cut him off, tone clipped and cold.
“the blonde in the-“ he lets out a huff of laughter, though it’s everything but amused. “samara is kelce’s girl.”
you scoff.
“you should let kelce know that his girl is out there flirting with his friends then.” and, to add more fuel to the fire, you say: “and that his friends don’t seem to mind.”
rafe looks at you, incredulity covering his beautiful features. features that, on a regular day, you would gawk at. but not today, not right now. you’re angry, and scared, and perhaps being a little bit irrational, but try shutting up the voice in your head once it starts.
“i wasn’t flirting with her. i would never do that to you.”
you scoff again, a harshness reflected in your eyes that he’s not used to. normally, you’re a sweetheart. to him and to everyone. though especially to him. but right this moment, you don’t seem like yourself, and he’s starting to worry.
“y/n.” he approaches you slowly, putting himself at eye level, hands on your shoulders. “i wouldn’t do that.”
for a split second, you almost give in. but then the image of the blonde- samara- giggling at rafe’s comments and putting her hand on his forearm shows up in the forefront of your mind, right next to the insecurities you’d been trying to hide since the beginning of your relationship with the man you’re sure is the love of your life. insecurities that you have carried with you pretty much your whole life, even before rafe cameron and his blue eyes that disarm you, a never ending and ever present feeling of being too much. of being hard to love. a fear, and almost sureness, that everyone leaves in the end.
and this is why you spit out your next words with as much venom as you can muster, surely putting a nail in the coffin that your relationship is becoming:
“i don’t believe you.”
fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves
chemistry 'til it blows up, 'til there's no us
why'd i have to break what i love so much?
after your venomous words, everything becomes a blur. the hurt in rafe’s eyes, the way he pulls his hands from your shoulders like you’ve just burned him, and his curt nod directed at no one in particular as he gets in his car and drives off, leaving you there, frozen.
eventually you find it in yourself to move, and you enter through the front door to go up the stairs to your and kie’s room. the house is silent since everyone else is still at the godforsaken party, so the only sound you can hear is the buzzing in your ears and what you’re sure is the cacophony of your heart breaking in a million little pieces.
why’d you have to do that? why’d you have to ruin something good with your broken self?
you collapse on your bed and stare at the ceiling, as salty tears leave your eyes and enter your ears. you consider calling him, but you can’t bring yourself to grab your phone, your self destruction mode completely activated. you hiccup and close your eyes, succumbing to the darkness of your bedroom and your heart. the last thought on your mind before you drift into a restless sleep: did you just lose him?
i lived like an island, punished you with silence
went off like sirens, just crying
why'd i have to break what i love so much?
morning comes and you refuse to face it. somehow throughout the night you managed to get into the covers, and so you burrow further into them, closing your eyes and fruitlessly hoping the sun goes away.
it’s not until noon when sarah and kie come to check on you that you realize you did manage to fall asleep again.
“hey you…” kiara says.
“how are you on this fine almost afternoon?” sarah asks you as she pokes your sheet covered side. as soon as you see their faces you know that they know about your fight with rafe. “we made pancakes, but you need to come down to eat them.”
you only grumble in response and close your eyes again.
“now, i think a good breakfast slash lunch is necessary before you confront your problems, isn’t that right jayj?” kiara says, making you realize that not only is jj there, but everyone else, looking at you with pitiful expressions.
slowly, you sit up and rub your face with your hands.
“does everyone know?” their sheepish looks is all you need to know.
“i mean, we know there was a fight. we don’t really know the details though.” sarah reassures you.
“yeah, we figured something was wrong when your kook boyfriend wasn’t stealing our food this morning.” john b slaps jj’s arm.
“dude.”
the flabbergasted look the blond gives his friend makes you snort despite your very evident despair.
“alright. pancakes?” you sister in law- could you still call her that?- asks you. before spiraling further, you nod.
\\\\
once all of you are done with breakfast, a silence settles over the table.
it takes one look at the expectant expressions of the members of your little family to know that they’re waiting for you to tell them what happened.
your mouth opens, but then the image of rafe’s hurt eyes appears in your mind and your chin starts to wobble.
“o-kay. i feel like this is girly territory. am i right, gentlemen?” jj tells the guys and they all nod, looking various degrees of uncomfortable.
“yeah, leave, you cowards.” cleo tells them with a roll of her eyes, making you smile in amusement.
when the men are gone and that little moment of fun is done, reality comes back to you, making you remember that you probably lost the love of your life last night, and that it was all your fault.
you look down at your fingers on the wooden table.
“y/n…” sarah puts her hand over yours. you look up at her.
“i messed up. acted crazy.” you tell them. a tear slips out of your eye and kie wipes it with her thumb before it touches the corner of your mouth. “i think i-“ your sentence is cut off by your stuttering breath, getting choked up at the thought of having messed up everything with him. with your rafe. “i think i lost him.”
“please girl, you could not lose that man even if you wanted to.”
“and sometimes i wonder why you don’t want to.” kie adds. you look at her with a deadpan expression.
“cleo is right. you can’t lose him. he loves you more than anything.” sarah tells you.
“but what if-“
“no what ifs.”
“i hurt him. i said hurtful words to him after he did nothing. i just… i freaked out.”
the three girls look at you with narrowed eyes.
“you got jealous.” cleo states matter of factly.
“uh-“
“it happens to everyone.” sarah tries to reassure you.
“not to me.” cleo adds. “pope knows if he even thinks of cheating i’ll cut off his little fingers.”
“well, aside from cleo.”
“i just- i made him think that i don’t trust him. that’s like, the last thing he needs. especially from someone who is supposed to love him.”
“y/n, give yourself a break.” kiara tells you. “sure, maybe you messed up a bit and overreacted. but you love him, and no one loves him like you do, i can assure you that.” she mumbles the last thing under her breath, making you snort.
“don’t be mean, i love him.” you tell her, making all of them laugh.
“that’s exactly her point.” sarah tells you. “now, go make up with your boyfriend so i don’t have to go over there and attempt to console him.”
you smile softly at the warmth that covers her tone when talking about her brother, a warmth that a while ago everyone thought would never be possible.
“okay, i’ll go fix it.”
tell me that you’re still mine
tell me that we’ll be just fine
even when i lose my mind
i need to say
tell me thats its not my fault
tell me that im all you want
even when i break your heart
you get to rafe’s place by bike. you don’t realize your hands are shaking until you go to ring the doorbell and notice your trembling fingers.
you take a deep breath and touch the gold button. the sound echoes inside the house and you pray to whatever god that wants to listen to you that he’s home.
a few moments pass, in which your eyes start filling with tears of frustration, before you hear footsteps going down the stairs. you wipe your tears as fast as you can, though you’re sure the evidence of your crying is obvious on your face, and the door opens.
there he is, in a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, looking like the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, cause he is. but you also notice that he looks tired, almost like when he gets insomnia and wakes up during the night half a million times. you always wake up as soon as he’s off the bed and make him tea and scratch his head until he falls asleep again. because you love him.
rafe just stands there, looking at you.
“hi.” you say, breathless.
he swallows before saying back:
“hi.”
your face contorts and your chin trembles. his eyes immediately soften and fill with concern.
“hey, hey, it’s alright, come on-“
“i- rafe-“ you choke out but he shushes you gently, guiding you towards the inside of the house.
once you reach the kitchen he sits you down on a stool and goes to the fridge to grab water. you watch him as he walks towards you and hands you the bottle.
you take a small sip and prepare yourself for the worst.
“y/n-“
“i know. i- i messed up.”
he tilts his head.
“no, i did.”
you stop.
“what?”
“i messed up if my girl doesn’t realize she’s the only one for me.”
your heart melts.
“no, rafe. i- i acted crazy-“
“you didn’t. you were just hurt.” he shakes his head. “i should’ve pushed her away, maybe poured beer on her head.”
you let out a small giggle despite yourself.
“is it really mean of me that i would’ve liked that?”
he grins.
“kind of, baby. but i love it. i love you.”
your eyes get big and shiny as you look at him.
“i love you too and i- the idea of losing you, it… it drives me crazy, rafe. you’re the-“ you stop yourself before saying what you were about to say. as much as you have been thinking it for a long while, you haven’t told him.
he looks at you so softly, so full of love and devotion and you have to grab his hand and kiss it and then put it against your heart.
“i’m what, baby?” he asks, expectant, almost as if he knows.
“you’re…” you bite your lip. he smiles at you like a lovesick fool. “you’re the love of my life.” you finally say, exhaling on the last word. you know he can feel your heart racing, but before he can say anything, you start to ramble. “you don’t have to say anythi-“
and he’s kissing you. roughly and passionately but so full of adoration it knocks the breath right out of you. rafe holds your face with both his hands and you clutch his shirt in between your fingers as if you’re scared you’ll float away if you don’t.
when you both have to pull away for air, you open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it.
“you’re the love of my life too, sweetheart. i thought you knew, i should’ve made it clearer.” he caresses your cheeks with his thumbs and puts his forehead against yours. “you’re it for me, no one else, baby.”
a few tears escape your eyes and he kisses them away.
“i’m sorry for saying hurtful things. im sorry for hurting you.”
“it’s okay, baby.” he reassures you.
“no, it’s not. i need you to know that i trust you and that i believe in you.”
his gaze softens.
“i do know, princess, doesn’t mean we won’t ever mess up. but you’re the reason i always try to fix what i break.”
alright!!! another swiftie reader. this time the fic is about rep songs. and i do feel like bucky embodies gorgeous btw because he’s…. u know…. gorgeous<3 oh i am accepting requests!
masterlist
////
“you guys don’t get it, and i feel sorry for you. i truly do.”
wanda rolls her eyes as nat throws popcorn at your head and boos. clint just laughs like this is the funniest thing he’s ever seen.
“what’s going on here?” sam asks as he and bucky enter the common room, followed by steve.
“y/n’s having a crisis.” clint tells him at the same time you say: “i’m distraught.”
“are you okay?” steve asks, frowning in concern, ever the mother hen.
“no! i’m not! these simple mortals have no taste!”
“okay, what is going on, doll?” your boyfriend asks now, half amused and half worried.
“ooh, i wanna see this.” nat says as wanda steals her bowl of popcorn. “hey!”
“okay so, bucky, darling-“
“oh no-“
“what?”
“you only call me darling when you’re causing trouble.”
you gasp, faux offense written on your features.
“i would never!”
“you would.” he deadpans.
you click your tongue.
“fine. we are having a bit of a disagreement over here. and you may or may not be the protagonist of it.”
he sighs, not surprised but definitely disappointed.
“are you showing people pictures of me smiling next to that dragon from that one movie and insisting its the same picture again?”
“no… and i did that once, bucky, and i was right!”
he sighs again.
“okay… one of you care to fill me in?”
natasha, ever the traitor, raises her hand.
“y/n insists that you embody the song gorgeous by taylor swift. we argue that you are actually ready for it.”
“and i argue that he’s gorgeous but he’s a softie. he’s not ready for it material, he’s more like delicate the song.”
bucky looks at all of you completely baffled. so does steve while sam cackles full of joy.
“oh this is gold, man. you’re delicate the song!” he laughs maniacally again. you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing at bucky’s expression.
“i’m- i-“ he stutters but doesn’t seem to know what to say. eventually he shakes his head, like trying to rid himself of the memory of the current conversation.
“so, what do you think, barnes? is your girl right or are we?” nat asks.
you look at him, pleadingly.
he sighs, again, and runs his hand down his face.
“my girl,” he says, defeated.
“ha! i told you!”
both natasha and wanda boo while clint shrugs his shoulders in the direction of your amazing boyfriend.
“you made the right choice, pal.”
////
later that night, you find yourself in bed with bucky, head on his chest.
“buck?”
“hm?” he hums.
“you really are gorgeous, you know that?” you tell him. “and every love song reminds me of you.”
you feel his smile against your temple and you don’t need to see him to know that he’s blushing.
“i’m not the gorgeous one here, sweetheart.”
“yeah you are, i’m more like the chaos to your beauty.” you say matter of factly.
with his fingers under your chin, he lifts your face so you can look him in the eyes.
“you are chaotic. but, hell, i wouldn’t have you any other way, my beautiful gorgeous chaos gremlin.”
you gasp with a grin on your face.
“you did not just call me a gremlin.”
“i did.” his grin is boyish, then his expression turns more serious. “and for the record, no love song could ever express how you make me feel.”
your eyes soften and you caress his cheekbone with your thumb.
“no song could ever describe how truly beautiful you are, bucky barnes. i don’t even think i can.”
he kisses you and you find yourself thinking: since there are no words, this simple but powerful moment and every other will have to do.
thinking about swiftie!reader who insists bucky saved her from the fate of ophelia…….
masterlist
///
“watcha’ listening to, doll?” his voice from the kitchen doorway makes you jump.
you turn, tea in hand and grin at him.
“taylor swift, obviously.”
“obviously,” he teases. “but i don’t recognize this one.”
“oh! it’s the life of a showgirl, her newest album. with all the missions and stuff i haven’t had time to listen much to it.”
“oh, well, what’s it about?” he asks with genuine curiosity. he is always curious about things that interest you and make you happy. it makes you feel so loved. he does.
“well it’s… i mean it has a lot of themes. a lot of the songs are love songs.”
“oh, are they?” he smirks, knowing full well you love love songs. especially if they’re taylor swift love songs.
you feel heat creeping up your neck.
“y-yeah.” you nod. then you smile cheekily at him. “you know… there’s a song on here that reminds me of you. i mean a few but one specifically.”
his eyebrows raise.
“which one? don’t tell me it’s the one about me being gorgeous again.”
a loud laugh escapes you. when you showed him that song it was the first time you saw him blush. like full on.
“no buck, this one’s… different.”
“okay…” he draws out, waiting for you to tell him.
“it’s called the fate of ophelia.”
“did i have the fate of ophelia.”
you giggle as you shake your head.
“no. i was about to.”
his brows furrow in confusion.
“you saved my heart from the fate of ophelia.”
he nods slowly, looking out into the distance in thought. then he walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“and what was the fate of ophelia again?”
you gasp.
“bucky barnes, you finished the entirety of lord of the rings, movies and books, in less than three days but you’ve never read hamlet?!”
he grins boyishly.
“i’m sorry doll, tell me?” he does his best impression of the puppy dog eyes and you cave, of course.
“basically ophelia was hurt by men and had no agency and that drove her to madness. in the song taylor says to this person you saved my heart from the fate of ophelia. and while men were irrelevant in my life before you showed up, you did save my heart from utter hopelessness. you saved my heart.” you repeat matter of factly but looking at him softly.
“sweetheart…”
if eyes could shapeshift into hearts, that’s what bucky’s would’ve been doing.
“you can’t say stuff like that. i’m old, it’ll kill me.”
you grin.
“buck, you’re a super soldier. i think you’ll survive a romantic confession.”
“oh, that’s what that was? sounded like wedding vows to me.” he mutters, teasing.
“oh that’s the other song. but i won’t explain it to you. listen to it, it’s called wishlist.”
and then you pull away from his arms and leave him in the kitchen confused.
needless to say, when he listens to the song, he immediately texts steve to go wedding ring shopping.
the water pools around your suit and makes the fabric stick to your skin. you punch it and it causes a ripple in the liquid surrounding you.
you clench your jaw and close your eyes tightly in frustration— and something you cannot yet name.
you failed. again.
the watch on your wrist makes a noise, letting you know it’s time to go back. standing up, you clutch the stone tightly in your hand and prepare yourself for the strange sensation of time traveling.
it takes only a second, or a thousand, and then you’re at the platform in the compound, the avengers surrounding you. they all check each other for injuries, not noticing the absence yet.
the first one to do, always, is steve.
“y/n, where’s nat?”
…
days pass, in which tony’s funeral takes place and steve prepares himself to return the stones. you already know he’s not coming back. maybe all of it will change when you bring her back.
the day comes and bucky and sam say their goodbyes, only one of them with the knowledge that it’s forever. bruce fiddles with the controls and in the blink of an eye, steve is gone. before he can come back, you step onto the platform with your own control and press it before they can say anything about it.
…
“see you in a minute.” she smiles softly at steve and then grabs your hand. “ready?”
you take in a deep breath.
“ready.”
the journey to vormir is the same as always. nat hugs rhodey and wishes everyone good luck. then she looks at you softly and stands at your side.
“you nervous?” she asks teasingly. you huff.
“oh not at all. just usual world saving stuff.” you tell her and she giggles. she only ever made that sound with you. you’ve heard this exact giggle so many times already, but you’ll never get sick of it.
“let’s go then.”
…
“let me go.”
your heart twists in your chest like every other time it happens.
“no-“ you sob. “please, hold on.”
“its okay.” she reassures you.
“i love you.”
and she falls.
…
you wake up in the colorful pond again. this time, like many others, you’re crying. you wipe the tears roughly and clench your jaw. you won’t give up.
back to planning it is.
…
the purple hue of vormir engulfs you both. you’ve been here so many times, times in which you tried winning the fight against her, in which you pleaded with her to not sacrifice herself in a thousand different ways. there’s always something you miss; a kick, a punch, a kiss.
but this time you won’t.
because this time you’re sacrificing yourself before she can even realize what you’re doing. this was a last resort, since you didn’t want her to carry that sort of grief unexplained. but it was something that had to be done. she needed to live.
as soon as you reach the cliff, you take a deep breath. you’re about to die, and yet, the comfort of knowing she will live stops you from feeling any sort of fear.
you look at her one last time.
“i’m sorry nat. read my letter.”
and you take off running.
you hear her scream your name as you fall in slow motion. and you can’t help but smile.
…
a splash of water resounds around you. your heart falls to your stomach when you realize what’s happening. it didn’t work. your breath heaves and you start clawing at your throat in desperation. the watch beeps and you know in a second you’ll have to watch grief overtake the team. you can’t do it again. god, why can’t you fix it?
…
“y/n, where’s nat?”
your eyes fall on steve and in a matter of one second you watch as realization washes over his features.
…
the next couple of times, you plead again and again. you cry, you beg, you desperately try to make her understand that she can’t come back after, but every time, without fail, she jumps.
…
the journey to vormir is the same as always. nat hugs rhodey and wishes everyone good luck. then she looks at you softly and stands at your side.
“you nervous?” she asks teasingly. you huff.
“oh not at all. just usual world saving stuff.” you tell her and she giggles.
“lets go then.”
when you reach the top of the mountain, the usual purple hue engulfs you both. but instead of pleading, or fighting, or dying, you take a seat on a rock and look at her. she frowns.
“what are you doing? we have to get the stone.”
“i know. just need to sit for a second. come sit with me.”
“y/n, there’s no time.” her expression is baffled. you were always so mission focused, never failing. a bitter laugh escapes you at that thought.
“believe me, there is time. endless amounts of it.”
“you’re scaring me.” you look at her and smile softly.
“come on, sit.” and she does, slowly. you stare out at the distance. “you know, you always say that. see you in a minute. i hate it, it’s not true.”
she tilts her head, confused.
“always-“
“and every time, without fail, you tell me to let you go. that’s it’s okay. but it’s not.”
there’s a contemplative silence after that. then, she takes a deep, slow breath.
“you’ve lived through this.” she says, more statement that question. you turn to her, biting your lip and nodding. “w-why?” she asks and you love her for it, for asking the right question.
“cause i can’t let you go.”
understanding crosses her beautiful features.
“y/n…”
“a soul for a soul.”
“mine.” she says. you look at her, distraught.
“i’ve tried so many different ways. but i fail. every time.”
“maybe it’s because it’s not supposed to be any other way.”
“i can’t accept that.” you shake your head.
“you have to.”
“no, nat, you don’t understand! a soul for a soul is bullshit, when it takes yours it takes mine too!” that shuts her up.
for a few moments you both look out into the distance. tears stream down your face.
“i love you,” she says, “more than anything. you’re my person. and i know i’m yours.” she pauses, and smiles softly at you. “so we’ll meet again, it doesn’t matter where or when, we will.”
“you don’t know that.” you whisper, broken. she looks at you.
“y/n, we will. and we’ll laugh about this. about a time when we had to be apart.”
“nat-“ a devastating sob escapes you. “nat, i can’t. i can’t live without you.”
“of course you can.” she tells you. “you’ll just sleep through the night better now that i won’t be kicking you while mumbling in russian.” a watery laugh escapes you. her expression turns serious and she grabs your face with both her hands. “you need to stop trying to save me. there’s a world out there that needs you, and you need to let me go.”
your features contort in pain, and you put your forehead against hers, holding her cheeks in your palm.
“i love you.” you tell her, your entire body shaking. “i don’t know how i’ll-“
“lean on the team. lean on yelena. tell her i love her and keep going forward.” natasha takes a deep shaky breath before kissing you. her lips are chapped and you cry into the kiss, knowing that feeling will haunt you forever. she will. “its okay. i love you.”
she pulls away and stands up. you can’t move as you watch her walk towards the edge of the cliff.
before she jumps, she turns around, smiles at you and says:
i need to write a steve rogers fic but have 0 ideas i was thinking about using inspo from the life of a showgirl or some taylor swift song but still brain empty. send requests if u want !!!
why can’t this be love? (eddie munson x female reader)
the gif is not mine!
summary: inspired by why can’t this be love by van halen. you and eddie have a no strings attached arrangement. and maybe you’re in love with him. who knows.
a/n: been wanting to write something for eddie for a while. this is pretty short and the plot is not suuuper developed. but i have longer fics planned for eddie, eventually. anyway. i of course as always accept requests for this man and for bucky barnes and steve rogers and natasha romanoff. i hope you enjoy!!! <3
masterlist
…
you disentangle yourself from him panting heavily. you both lay on your back and look at the ceiling trying to catch your breaths.
“that was…” he trails off.
“yeah.” you laugh breathily.
he turns his head to look at you in a way you don’t understand. eddie tucks a strand of hair behind your ear in such an intimate gesture you hold your breath until he stops touching you.
“uh- i should probably go.” you sit up and grab your shirt that’s haphazardly thrown on the floor next to the bed, trying really hard not to look at his eyes. because they’ll make you want to stay.
“r-right. wouldn’t want to go against rule number three.” eddie says matter of factly— and perhaps a bit bitter. shaking your head subtly you decide you can’t be bothered to analyze his tone. you can’t afford it.
rule number three. the third rule of four— created entirely by you. when you two started sleeping together, it was a way to prevent your friendship from falling apart. to protect it. you made them up on the spot, right after changing back into your clothes in eddies room after the best sex of your life. they were simple, concise and easy to follow.
or, well, you thought so in the beginning. you’ve always been good at burying your feelings, why would this time be any different?
the list of rules went like this:
rule number one: no telling anyone about the arrangement.
rule number two: not doing any couples shit.
rule number three: not staying in bed together after having sex.
rule number four— the most important one: no falling in love.
rule number one was broken pretty much two days after it was established, because robin caught you two right after the act in your couch when you forgot to lock the front door and she let herself in.
you made her promise she a) wouldn’t say anything and b) wouldn’t be weird about it.
surprisingly, she managed the hardest part: keeping quiet. the second though… well, you couldn’t say she didn’t at least try.
the thing about rule number two was that you and eddie munson were best friends. and if you already have the emotional intimacy and then you add the physical one… what’s to be expected?
the third one was the easiest to follow. you basically trained yourself to jump up from his bed the second it was over. and yeah, sure, you felt like you were leaving your entire bleeding red heart on his bed, but that’s normal, right?
and the fourth one- actually, you don’t want to think about it.
“no, we wouldn’t.” you smile at him tightly. “i’ll uh- see you.”
and you leave his trailer without looking back.
…
you find yourself at a diner after your encounter with eddie, zoning in and out of the conversation currently taking place between nancy and robin— and you, supposedly. honestly, there’s only one thing you’re thinking about, and it is not whether jonathan would like socks or boxer briefs as a birthday present or if he would rather have nancy model lingerie for him (robin suggested, obviously).
it’s him. lately, it always is.
your heart twists when a thought occurs to you. it’s always been like this.
you think that maybe you have an illness, some sort of heart issue that makes your chest hurt. but makes it hurt only when you’re leaving him behind. which makes you think that it’s not really a heart issue— not in the literal sense. more like maybe you care more than you’re letting yourself admit. maybe you always have. and maybe you’re a coward.
no.
definitely.
“are you even listening?” robin says and you don’t answer, assuming she’s talking to nancy. “earth to y/n…” you blink rapidly, their faces coming back into focus.
“y-yeah. totally. i think socks.”
nancy bites her lip, trying not to laugh in your face.
“uh… we kind of already established that ten minutes ago.” she says.
“oh…”
“yeah.” robin drawls.
“what’s going on with you?” nancy asks you.
“nothing. just… tired. didn’t sleep very well last night and i think im hearing colors.”
she chuckles while robin looks at you suspiciously. you smile at her awkwardly.
nancy, then, looks at her watch and gasps, realizing she’s late for a date with jonathan. she says goodbye and leaves in a rush, leaving you and your very nosy friend alone.
“so…” she begins.
“so…” you repeat.
“what did he do?”
“he?”
robin rolls her eyes.
“your lover boy. did he forget your anniversary or something?”
you frown.
“robin, we’re not together.”
she stops.
“wait, hold on- are you still pretending you don’t have feelings for him?” she asks incredulously. “i mean, i haven’t brought it up since i first found out and you told me it was a no strings attached thing but i thought you’d get over it by now.”
“get over what?” you ask her, confused.
“your fear.”
your brows furrow, almost offended.
“i’m not scared.”
she deadpans.
“you totally are. and i get it, you know. when i first realized i liked vicky i-“
“it’s not the same.”
“no, of course, i was risking becoming a social pariah-“
“no, rob. that’s not what i mean.” you shake your head as she frowns in confusion. “you and vicky, you were strangers and then you began getting to know each other and realized you liked each other. but me and eddie, we’re… he’s…”
robin widens her eyes and sits up straighter in the booth.
“wait-“
“robin-“
“you love him.”
your body freezes. hearing someone else say it out loud, even though you have been feeling it without naming it, was terrifying. you shake your head rapidly.
“i can’t.”
“can’t what?”
“that!” you exclaim, distressed.
“love him?”
“yeah!”
“why not?” she asks, frowning.
“because.”
“because?” robin repeats, arching a brow.
“what if he… he doesn’t-“
“i’m going to stop you right there.” she says, raising her hand in a gesture that shuts you up. “that man is obsessed with you. it’s ridiculous how he looks at you. and kind of gross.”
“it’s just good sex to him, robin. he’s not-“
“no.” she shakes her head. “i think you’ve been telling yourself that because you’re scared.”
“okay, sure. if he’s so obsessed with me, why did he agree to the rules?”
robin sighs heavily and shakes her head in disappointment.
“because he loves you!” she says and before you can argue, she continues. “think about it, it’s peak romance. sacrificing your own feelings for the one you love. pretending you’re okay with not having them completely, just because then you can have at least some part of them.”
you bite your lip in thought.
when you think about it, eddie never really tried to impose the rules on you. he never asked you to leave after, he never repeated what you did, that it was a no strings attached thing, he never acted like he didn’t care about you.
meanwhile, you’ve been putting so much space between you, you might not only be hurting yourself but him too.
you look at robin. she smiles softly.
“go.”
…
“eddie!” you knock repeatedly. “eddie-“
the door opens quickly and there he is, still in his ozzy shirt, frantically looking you over to see if you’re okay.
“y/n, what-“
“i need to talk to you.”
“are you okay?” he asks, brows furrowing in worry.
you nod.
“yeah, i just… i need to talk to you.” you repeat.
“okay, of course.” he steps aside to let you in and you walk up the steps to his trailer.
once you’re inside, the nerves you weren’t feeling until then due to the adrenaline start twisting your stomach. now that you’re here, it all seems too real.
you look around, avoiding his eyes.
“what’s… what’s going on?”
“i-“ you swallow. “i need to-“
“talk to me?” he jokes, clearly noticing your nerves and trying to ease them. “yeah, you already mentioned that, sweetheart.”
you nod repeatedly.
“yeah.” your voice comes out breathless.
“well,” he says, “i’m all ears.”
“i suck.” his eyebrows raise up to his forehead.
“wha-“
“im a liar. i’ve been lying. to myself.” you say. “but most importantly to you. i hate that.”
you take in a deep breath. eddie looks confused, but he’s also looking at you so softly. almost as if he knows.
“okay…” he says. “what have you been lying about? don’t tell me you’re the one who keyed my van.”
you chuckle nervously, breathlessly.
“no, i…”
he takes a step closer. not close enough to touch, just… near. that calms you down immediately and the fact that he has that effect on you so quickly makes you realize how much you’ve been lying to yourself. about all of it, since the beginning.
eddie looks at you patiently as you try to gather enough courage to speak your truth.
“you know how we established rules when we started… sleeping together?”
“yes.” he says, now more serious.
“and how we broke rule number one because robin found out immediately after. and then rule number two was bound to fail because we spend every waking second together.”
he nods, still looking at you seriously, but with softness in his eyes.
“and then rule number three was… well, you know…”
eddie looks at you expectantly. you bite your lip.
“i broke rule number four.” you say simply and then look down, ashamed.
long moments pass, in which you are sure he is looking at you disgusted by your confession. that is until you hear him laugh.
when you look up you see him smiling brightly, shoulders shaking from the joy in his laughter.
“um…”
eddie sobers up, clearly trying to not offend you.
“sweetheart,”
you look down again.
“look at me.” you don’t. “y/n, look at me.”
it’s not until you feel his fingers under your chin, lifting your face up that you do.
he’s smiling softly. and he’s so pretty.
“thank you.” he smiles bashful but amused. your eyes widen.
“did i say that out loud?” he grins.
“yep.”
“fuck me.” you grumble.
“whenever you want, pretty.” he winks.
“uh-“ you start but get cut off by the heat crawling up your neck.
he smiles again, small and sincere.
“eddie…” you say, without really knowing what you’re expecting him to do.
but eddie, oh, he decides that his name coming out of your mouth is the perfect excuse to kiss you breathless.
as soon as his lips touch yours, you melt into him, like you have so many times by now.
you don’t know how long it lasts, but when you pull away you’re both panting against each others mouths.
when you open your eyes, you see his beautiful doe gaze on you, full of adoration.
“fuck me, i broke rule number four before it was even a thing, baby.”
a loud laugh comes out of your mouth before you can stop it and soon enough he’s following the sound with another kiss. and another.
“been in love with you ever since i met you,” he says, “don’t know what it’s like to know you and not love you.”
“me neither.” you confess to him.
“i love you, sweetheart.”
“i love you too, eddie.” and you feel it, freely.
and you know for sure, even without saying it, you have felt it all along.
summary: bucky breaks your heart due to letting other peoples opinions on you two win. will he be able to mend it? does he even care to?
a/n: nothing too crazy to say. i just love bucky barnes and think he deserves all the love in the world. enjoy! (y/n= your name. y/n/n= your nick name.)
masterlist
\\\\
y/n’s pov:
you’re a mess. you’ve been on the floor sobbing for two hours now. you’re about to go grab your phone when natasha bursts into your room.
“no. don’t even think about it.”
“i-“
“he’s an asshole, and we don’t call assholes.”
“correct.” wanda appears behind her.
“he’s not-“ you hiccup pathetically. “i love him.”
for a second natasha’s face softens, knowing that while the display is pathetic and melodramatic, you are truly in a lot of pain. the reason and the asshole? bucky barnes himself.
everything was fine, it was perfect, but then he decided to end things with you. you couldn’t hate him, even though you really wanted to, because the thing about bucky barnes and you is that you understood each other. you get it.
ever since you two went public— you didn’t really, but you were caught kissing on camera by the paparazzi— bucky’s smear campaign on the news started. not only there, but also on social media and any other media outlet. people started hating him again, after he worked so hard to gain public favor because of the winter soldier’s actions, calling him things like murderer and monster and claiming that he would ruin you, possibly kill you or your reputation. but you didn’t care, you never did. why would you? you were with the love of your life. finally life made sense, after so many things, so much heartache, you found peace. home.
that was before that fateful day, almost a month ago.
\\\\
a month ago…
he had been acting weird. distant. you wondered if he had been plagued by another torturous nightmare and didn’t tell you. he tended to do that, carry his burdens alone, even though you always insisted that his burdens were yours too.
but today you were tired. tired of not being close to him, tired of missing him. and you really missed him.
you walk through the halls of the compound to his room with quiet determination. you know he’s there since friday told you. when you reach his door, you give two knocks.
“buck! you there?”
silence.
“bucky…”
once you realize he’s not opening it, you take a deep breath and twist the knob. and there he is, in all his avoidant glory, reading a book while sitting on his side of the bed. while you two haven’t moved into the same room together, you might as well have, since most of your things were already there and you each had a side of what was once his bed. sometimes it felt like you didn’t take that step because he was holding back, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
bucky looks up and for a second his expression brightens up as if forgetting the fact that he’s been avoiding you, but then, very quickly, it dulls again.
“hey…” you say, unsure now that you’re here.
“hi.” he responds, voice rough from lack of use. “what are you doing here?”
you raise your eyebrows in surprise.
“um… i came to see you. i missed you.”
“oh uh, sorry. i’ve been kind of busy…” he trails off, almost waiting. it takes you a moment to realize that he’s waiting for you to leave.
and you’ve just about had it.
anger flares up in your chest and you take a step forward.
“you’ve been ignoring me.”
he looks like a deer caught in headlights.
“i don’t know what you mean, y/n.” he never calls you by your name.
“yes, you do.” then, your tone softens. “did something happen?”
he looks at you then, and for the first time since you entered his room you can see that he’s struggling. the anger you felt quickly gets replaced with worry.
“bucky…” you take a step closer to him, but to your surprise and heartbreak, he gets up from the bed to put space between you two.
a small gasp leaves your mouth, pained and shocked. you frown. “what’s- what’s going on?” you manage to ask despite your wavering voice.
bucky stands there, looking at the floor. then, it happens. his eyes land on you for a moment, he shakes his head, looks at the floor and says:
“i can’t do this anymore.”
the world stops.
your breath catches.
your heart stops beating.
“i don’t… understand.” with shaky hands you try to reach for him, almost as if there’s a chance you heard him wrong. he takes a step back and your blood turns cold. “bucky, what are you saying?”
“what is there to understand, y/n? i said i can’t do this anymore.”
as soon as his words sink in, your heart— that had stopped moments before— starts beating erratically in your chest. your breath starts coming out in short and rapid bursts.
“you don’t mean that,” you say, looking at him with a pleading smile, on the verge of shattering. his eyes land on your face.
“i do.”
while his words are harsh, his eyes look pained, so you insist again.
“bucky,” you begin, “whatever’s going on, we can work through it. together.”
he scoffs, not maliciously, just bitter and humorless.
“you heard what they’re saying about us? you?”
realization hits you.
“buck, i don’t care about that.” he narrows his eyes.
“maybe you should.”
you walk to him, but this time you grab his face in between your hands. he’s breathing heavily.
“bucky, look at me.” he doesn’t. “bucky,” you start, even though he refuses to look at you, assuming that he will when he hears what you have to say, “i love you. i want to be with you. it doesn’t matter what they say.”
“but it does.” he says, grabbing your hands to pull them away. you don’t let him. you caress his cheekbones with your thumbs.
“it doesn’t.”
“i’m gonna ruin your life, your image. they’ll hate you.”
“it’s worth it. we’re worth it.”
“it’s not-“ he drops his hands from yours. “it’s not worth it.”
that stops you. your blood freezes again. you tilt your head.
“what are you saying?” he closes his eyes. “bucky-“ you try to breathe in shakily around the rock that has settled in your chest. “what-“ your brows furrow and your eyes fill with tears. “what do you mean?”
he doesn’t answer, just looks to the side. you move his head so he can face you. and you ask him the worst thing you could’ve asked him, because his answer will haunt you for the rest of your life:
“it’s not worth it… or i’m not?”
pause.
“it’s the same thing.”
crack. your heart shatters.
you pull your hands away as if he burned you and take a step back. then another. you start looking around the room— his room, a room so full of love now seeming foreign to you— like a caged animal trying to escape. you don’t know how you do it, but you manage to reach the door. with shaking hands you turn the knob and run away, without looking back.
\\\\
you haven’t seen him since, though steve told you he was staying at an apartment in brooklyn that tony got as a safe house.
nat puts her hand on your shoulder.
“i know you do, but he made his choice. now you need to make yours.”
that stops you for a moment. he made his choice. and his choice wasn’t you.
your lower lip wobbles and both girls notice.
“hey, it’s okay. you’re going to be okay.” wanda tells you softly.
you shake your head.
“i don’t think so.”
“in the middle of heartbreak, we never do.”
how can you explain to her that this is not the middle? that you are forever going to walk the same path, bereft and distraught? that if it’s not him… it’s no one.
“you know what you need?” you look at nat. “you need to have fun with us girls. you need to forget about men and remember there is more to life than them.”
“but he’s not-“
“yes, i know. he’s not just some guy you need to get over. but i still think you need to have fun. in fact,” she looks at wanda, slowly smirking, “we all need to have fun.”
your witchy friend grins in response and claps her hands, clearly excited by the prospect of girls night.
and so it begins…
clothes everywhere, pop music blaring through the speakers as you and your very broken heart try your best to have a good time while getting ready with your best friends. somehow you make it to the club at around 10 pm, and while you and wanda go to find a table, nat heads to the direction of the bartender to order an onslaught on incoming drinks. by the seventh one, everything seems lighter, or far away, or funny (at least to both your friends). you’re the quieter one, chuckling every now and then, but still seeming… lost.
suddenly, nat and wanda jump from their seats when a specific tune starts playing, claiming that they ‘love this song!’
“come on, y/n/n, lets dance!” nat says over the music and lights.
you blink at her. god, you want to be anywhere but here. you want him.
“i’ll uh- i’m gonna go get another drink!” you yell over the noise, and, without waiting for their response, you stand up and start walking through the crowd towards the bar. you feel like your heart is weighting down your body. how could he have not chosen you? had you meant nothing?
when you reach the bartender, you order three shots just for you. downing them all takes about thirty seconds and realizing that no matter how much you drink, he will never hold you in his arms again takes you about half that time.
your eyes feel hot and your throat is tightening the more you spend leaning against the counter of the bar. another song starts and you look at a couple dancing and the lights are too bright and too colorful and the love of your life doesn’t want you.
you manage to stumble through the place towards one of the bathrooms, and sigh in relief when it’s empty. entering a stall, you sit on the sticky floor. the music here is distant, and for the first time that night you can hear your sniffles, that quickly turn into sobs. you reach for your phone and call the only number you have memorized.
“y/n?”
“bucky-“ you sniffle.
“hey, hey. what’s- where are you?”
“i’m at the bar with the girls…” tears are streaming down your face.
“did something happen, y/n? tell me where you are and i’ll-“
“why don’t you love me anymore?” you ask in a broken voice.
“y/n…” he sighs in what you assume is annoyance. you’re pathetic, you tell yourself.
“bucky-“
“i can’t do this-“
“anymore. i know.” you cut him off, softly. “but why? i thought- i was ready to spend the rest of my life with you.”
he doesn’t say anything, so you keep going.
“you just-“ you hiccup in between your silent sobs, “you left me. like i was nothing.”
“you’re not nothing.” he says with determination.
“but i’m not enough.”
“y/n, i don’t want to talk about this.”
“but we need to! bucky,” you tell him, crying and breathing rapidly out of desperation, “i don’t want to beg. i don’t- don’t beg. i promised myself i would never beg anyone to stay… but-“ you hiccup again, “please. i don't care about anyone, you're all that matters to me. if they all love me but you don't it means nothing to me. i would rather have all of them hate me and you love me than the opposite.” a sob gets stuck in your throat. he doesn’t say anything but you can hear him breathing on the other side of the line. you close your eyes tightly, making tears fall down your cheeks.
“please fight for me bucky.”
the silence that follows your plea is deafening. it says so much, and the implication makes you drop your phone and hide your face in your hands as you sob even harder than before.
\\\\
bucky’s pov:
“where is she?” he asks natasha as soon as he spots her.
she looks confused for a second but then her expression hardens.
“why do you care?”
his jaw ticks.
“she called me.”
“she said she was going to get a drink an hour ago.” wanda steps in. she looks at him knowingly. he gives her a nod in acknowledgment. and then he goes to look for you.
you are not at the bar and nowhere near the dance floor. he wishes he could just call you and ask where you are but his stupid phone died right after you bared your heart to him, leaving him unable to answer, to tell you that he was on his way.
he was in his room, casually surfing the channels of the big tv stark got for him, trying not to think when you called him. as soon as he heard your sniffle he was putting on his boots and heading for his car.
where were you? it was really loud there, and it wasn’t that loud where you called him from- he blinks. the bathroom.
he heads for the closest one to the bar, assuming you couldn’t walk very far with how drunk you were and sighs before entering, hoping no one else is there other than you.
the music can be faintly heard from in here, but he doesn’t miss the heavy breathing of someone in the third stall. so he goes to knock.
\\\\
y/n’s pov:
you’ve been crying for only god knows how long, and your chest feels somehow heavier than before if that’s possible.
you hear the door of the bathroom open and pray to god that it isn’t nat or wanda, wanting to gather yourself before facing anyone.
the sound of steps floats through the echo of the place and then stops. right in front of your stall.
if the black boots and two knocks on the door didn’t give him away, his rough and oh so beautiful voice does.
“doll?”
your eyes widen. you try to stand up but stumble, hitting your head against the toilet seat.
“ow.”
“sweetheart?”
“one second-“ you manage to stand and quickly open the door.
and there he is. your expression contorts and you start crying again, having stopped before from the shock.
“hey, sweetheart, no. it’s okay.” he grabs onto your shoulders and pulls you into his arms.
“bucky,” you sob.
“shh, shh, i’m here.” he shushes you and softly rocks you from side to side.
you pull your face away from his chest to look at him through your tears.
“what are you doing here? i thought-“ you furrow your brows in distress, “you didn’t say anything.”
“my phone died, baby.” he puts his flesh hand on your face and caresses your cheek while the metal one wraps tightly around your waist. “as soon as you called me i was already running around the place trying to find my keys to come get you.”
“but-“ you frown. “what are you doing here?”
he smiles softly, adoringly.
“i’m fighting for you, sweetheart.”
and that crack in your heart mends itself. “i’m so sorry, pretty girl. so, so sorry. i never meant to hurt you, i just-“
“i know, bucky.” he tilts his head.
“yeah?”
“yeah. cause i know you.” his eyes shine while he looks at you. “and i love you, not them.” you grab his face in between your hands, a bit sloppy, since you are still pretty drunk and smile lovingly. “i don’t want to be without you.”
his gaze softens, and he pulls you even closer by your waist.
“i don’t want to be without you either. i can’t.” he shakes his head. “this month has been hell, doll. hell.”
you caress his cheekbones with your thumbs.
“i know. for me too.”
“god, i love you. i promise you i’ll spend the rest of our lives making it up to you.”
you grin, eyes shiny.
“i’d like that.” you put your face closer to his and look down at his lips. “and i love you too, more than anything.”
“please let me kiss you doll, i think im gonna die if i don’t.” his begging makes you giggle.
“you’re so dramatic buck.” you tell him before pulling him in for a kiss you would both remember forever.
the thing about steve rogers is that he was like daylight. he was the warmth of the sun on your face after you’ve been inside for too long. he was realization, an epiphany perhaps, that good still existed, that it was all worth it, the laughter, the tears, the fight, you.
when you met, almost a year and a half ago, you were not yourself. it wasn’t that you knew who you were and you were actively hiding, but rather that you were a stranger in your own body. you didn’t know who you were, what you liked, what your unfiltered laughter could sound like.
everybody talks about freedom, about peace, about love, and one can hear and imagine as much as they want, but until you have it, until you know, you just… don’t.
you felt freedom the first time he made you laugh uncontrollably. peter had showed him some ridiculous video of him online and his bewildered expression made you burst out into laughter. it was so intense, so much joy, unfiltered, free. and the way he looked at you, god, like it was worth it to ridicule himself in exchange of your laugh.
you feel peace when he’s near you. it takes one word out of his mouth and your breathing evens out.
you have been feeling love for a long time, but it wasn’t until he held you in his arms while promising you companionship forever that you realized you’d been feeling it.
you love him. god, you love him.
and how do you go about your day when you feel like your heart is going to burst out of your chest every time you so much as hear his name being spoken? how do you cope? with the love, with the fear.
because while you love him, and you’re completely and absolutely sure of that, you have no idea whether he cares for you in the same way.
old habits die hard, and truthfully, you can’t imagine it. him loving you the same way you do him, you and him together. while you have made progress since the beginning of it, you still have ghosts haunting you, still have shards of glass inside your throat and heart.
and they won’t let you speak.
but tonight it’s his birthday, and while tony has organized a big event for tomorrow evening, at midnight he’s just yours. you love the sound of that.
“hey sweetheart,” he greets you with a soft smile when he opens the door to his room.
you immediately jump into his arms and wrap yours around him.
“happy birthday stevie.” your voice comes out soft, and if he wasn’t paying as much attention he probably wouldn’t have heard it.
“thank you.”
you arms tighten around him and then they let him go.
“you didn’t have to stay up, you know? could’ve just told me tomorrow.” he tells you.
“of course i was gonna stay up.” you frown, almost offended at his suggestion and he chuckles, amused. that makes you smile.
“so…” you draw out the word.
“so…” he repeats, narrowing his eyes. you let a grin settle on your face.
“i have something for you.”
“you didn’t-“
“if you say i didn’t need to again im gonna have to tell everyone that you unironically listen to the backstreet boys.”
he lets out a laugh and then shakes his head, still grinning.
“you wouldn’t, on my birthday?” he asks, with false hurt.
you purse your lips to stop yourself from grinning.
“try me, steven.”
he raises his hands in surrender and then gestures for you to come in. before you do, you reach next to you on the floor and pick up a medium sized box. at the sight of it, he frowns, perhaps scared, perhaps confused, you really can’t be bothered to analyze his expression because you are too excited.
you two sit on his bed facing each other, his back against the headboard.
he opens his mouth to ask but you beat him to it.
“so… i wanted to give you a present for every single birthday of yours i’ve missed, but then you see, i realized you are 107 years old and that would be insane.”
he nods, still confused but definitely touched by your statement.
“so i decided to give you a present for every month i’ve known you. so that’s 17 months.”
“you got me seventeen presents?” his eyes widen.
“yes, but don’t worry, they’re small gifts, all within the limit you set.”
“y/n, this is…” he seems to struggle to find the words. you probably did go overboard, but he meant so much to you, and you wanted to do nice things for him. if he really knew the extent of which he had helped you, cared for you, he would realize that seventeen gifts is nothing compared to that.
“i know. you don’t have to say anything.”
“i want to, i just-“ he shakes his head, incredulous, “you are just- god, perfect.”
he says the last part more quiet, almost like he didn’t mean for you to hear. but you do, and your heart lights up like the sun, shining through the cracks between your ribs and illuminating his whole room.
he’s looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and every single one of these presents is a star in the sky. as much as you love when he looks at you, it is intense, and there’s only so much intensity you can handle. so you turn away and look at the box, signaling to it with your hand.
“go on, open it.” you tell him gently. he does.
inside the box are various small and medium sized items, all holding a memory within them. a picture from a photo booth of you two when you went to coney island, a note he passed you and you kept with an answer newly written, a vinyl of his favorite old album, the one he told you about on one of those many nights you spent just talking and basking in each others presence.
as he looked through the box and grabbed every small present with the gentlest hands like it was made of the most fragile glass, you told him the reasons for why you chose that specific thing.
for a moment, you feared you might’ve done too much, but the way he looked at you throughout, with utter adoration, melted the fear and your heart entirely.
by the end, his eyes were shining. with gratitude, and perhaps with unshed tears, you weren’t completely sure.
as he puts everything back inside the box carefully and then closes it, you wring your hands together. then he looks at you.
“so? too much? too little? should’ve gone with the 107 gifts…” you mutter, trying to crack a joke, because his gaze is terrifying and electrifying all the same.
“come here,” he just says and pulls on your arm until you’re sitting on his lap, his big arms around your frame and your face tucked into his neck. “thank you.” he speaks against your head. “i can’t- can’t even tell you how much this means to me, how much you mean to me. just- thank you, sweetheart.”
you fist his shirt and pull, trying to convey how much you care.
slowly, you lift your head from his neck, but you don’t move, still on his lap and close.
“um…” you begin, nervously. you bite the inside of your cheek and look to the side, not able to face him.
“what is it?” he asks softly, his brows furrowing.
“i, uh, i have something else.” he raises his brows. “not a gift!” you tell him quickly. “more like a- well… it’s a…” you sigh and reach under the box, where an envelope is stuck there with a bit of tape. slowly, you reveal it to him.
steve blinks.
“you… you wrote me a letter?”
you bite your lip and close your eyes tightly.
“god, i’m so sorry, im literally so intense and you’re probably freaked out-“
“read it to me.” he cuts you off. there’s something about his tone… you can’t pinpoint it.
your eyes widen.
“i- no.” you say, embarrassed.
he smirks softly.
“read it to me, honey, please.” there it is. his tone. it sounds almost like he’s begging. it’s devotion, like he needs to hear you-
you glance at him and your breath hitches. it hits you all at once: he needs to hear you say it. because he feels it too.
so you nod, and you open the envelope, and you begin.
“dear steve, im not very good with talking. or people. but writing is easier… less fear of rejection. but you see? that’s the thing. you wouldn’t, you would never. ever since i met you, i’ve felt no fear. not of you hurting me, or yelling, or changing your mind. not of you. never of you.
when i was younger i read a story about two people who knew each other from past lifetimes and met again in a new one, without really remembering the details of the past. but the details aren’t everything and so they remembered the feeling, like walking through a house you’ve walked through before, like you could do it with your eyes closed.
that’s how it feels to know you. like home, like i’ve done this already, like i could recognize you blind.
i’ve never been fearless, and i’ve always been more angry at the world that i’ve let on, and as cheesy as it sounds, i feel like i can do anything with you by my side.
what i want to do most is forgive.
i want to forgive the world. because the world gave me you.
i couldn’t adore you more if i tried.
always yours, y/n.”
you stare at your name written at the end of the page, like an oath.
“look at me, y/n.” he tells you. you can’t help but do. the love in his eyes is impossible to miss.
you open your mouth to say something, anything, but you can’t. you’ve already said it all. now it’s his turn. and when he speaks, my god, how you wish you could replay that moment forever and ever.
“i love you.” he says, like a promise. “you are-“ he swallows, “you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
your eyes fill with tears and he wiped them away before pulling you in, and a moment before he kisses you, he says:
