I sniffed, having come much too close to death than what I wanted. The cave was musty and I was very wet, my arms wrapped around me to try and get warm as orders had been sent out to not light a fire.
I sniffed again, my body hurting.
The path into the mountains had seemed easy at first, at least until the storm hit, then it became dangerous. When the giants started to move, then it became treacherous.
I’d been stuck next to Dwalin, as usual, and I was trying my hardest to not show how truly terrified I was.
Then, as it turned out we were standing on a giant, and as it moved, I slipped.
This is the second request made by sweet @thorinanddwalinsdwarrowdam hope you´ll like it dear!
Pairing: Thorin x reader
Warning: a teeny tiny bit of angst, fluff at the end
Thorin Gif prompt list
Masterlist
“I´m your king and you will do as I say!!” Thorin´s angered voice boomed through the royal chambers traveling across the corridors making you jump backward eyes opening wide as you stared Thorin standing tall in front of you. His blue eyes were darkened with rage, his nostrils flaring as he glared at you taking in your frightened state.
Thorin has been busy with rebuilding Erebor and it was starting to take a toll on him, he was tired, his temper rising even from the slightest mistake someone would make and if they argued against him it was all out war. And you, newly crowned queen of Erebor was at the crossfire right now because you had dared to say that maybe negotiations between Dale and Erebor should handle Balin since he was familiar with the subjects on the table but Thorin wanted you to deal with them. You didn´t have any experience on the matter but Thorin apparently didn´t care about that kind of minor detail. And making matters worse, he denied your request taking Balin with you to help you. It had every possible material for disaster and for a minute you actually thought if that was Thorin´s goal, to make you look unfit to be a queen so he could save the day. But as quickly that thought crossed your mind, you shook your head to get rid of it, Thorin wasn´t that kind of a dwarf. But still, it hurt you deeply when you asked for help, he turned a cold shoulder and yelled at you.
“Maybe after this day, you will remember how to address your king and husband. Don´t cross me again,” Thorin growled and turning on his heels he walked out from the chambers slamming the door behind him so loudly the sound scared you even more than his growling. The tears you had been holding so you wouldn´t give him more reason to hurt your feelings by saying you´re weak because you cry in front of him, were burning behind your eyes and leaning against the bedroom´s closed door covering your mouth with your hand, you fell to the floor as first tears rolled down on your cheeks. Bursting in crying you stayed there hours just letting out your agony starting to the first time in your life to regret that you agreed to marry the king under the mountain. This wasn´t the life you wanted, to be belittled by your beloved, to be ordering around like you were nothing more than a loyal guard dog. Fili and Kili had a few days ago reassured you once Erebor was rebuilt Thorin was able to step back and take a breather and his personality would change for the better, but how long would that take? Months? Years? Thorin was so driven by his desire to make Erebor as mighty as it was more than 60 years ago before Smaug had attacked that he had forgotten everything else he had in his life.
It was getting dark outside when you finally lifted your head taking a deep shaky breath and stood up. Thorin was nowhere to be found so you decided to take a walk outside. Wearing light, thin white gown you headed out without anyone seeing and took in the chilly night air into your lungs tilting your head back and staring at the sky.
Your surroundings were quiet, a light breeze blowing from the plains twirling around your feet making the hem of your gown dance as you kept walking bare feet enjoying your brief moment of freedom. You didn´t care how far you would go, you just needed some distance, your feet were starting to bleed from the rocky ground you had been walking on leaving blood stains behind on your trail. Finally reaching the edge of the grand hill you had been climbing you stood there looking ahead seeing Dale´s torches flickering as the wind traveled by them. A lonely barn owl was hooting somewhere in the darkness and somehow, it made you even sadder. You and that owl had something in common, you were alone in the darkness, crying out for anyone who would be willing to listen.
You didn´t hear when someone approached you from behind but soft couching sound spooked you and turning around you came face to face with Thorin who looked like his soul was tormented as he stood there gazing at you sorrowful expression on his tired face.
“I thought I had lost you….” he whispered so quietly you nearly didn´t hear him.
“When Roäc came to me telling he had seen you standing on an edge of a cliff my heart stopped at that moment. I thought I was gonna lose you forever…” Thorin´s voice cracked as he was fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. You hugged yourself as the wind was making you feel cold as you listened to Thorin silently seeing that his fear was genuine. Carefully he took few steps toward you extending his hand waiting for you to take. Your eyes were glossy as you stared at his hand for a second pondering should you go back to be treated the way he was treating you earlier. Apparently, Thorin read your mind because he managed to form a fond smile on his face speaking softly.
“I´m sorry the way I spoke to you today….I don´t have an excuse for that but know that I wouldn´t intentionally hurt you. You´re my love, my queen, my One and I promise you I do better from now on,”
The way his blue eyes were shining you knew he meant every word and a small smile formed on your face as you closed the gap between you two taking hold of his hand. Pulling you into his arms firmly he inhaled your sweet scent shivering as he thought how close he was losing you.
“Let´s go home,” you whispered in his ear and hearing him humming in response you two walked hand in hand back to Erebor but when Thorin noticed your grimacing expression on every step you took because the state of your feet was in, he suddenly without a warning scooped you up in his arms and carried you rest of the way murmuring something about you were stupid to walk this kind of distance without shoes and now Oin would have to tend to your feet. But you just pressed your cheek against his warm chest listening to his steady heartbeat a goofy smile on your face while a spark of hope ignited in your heart as you remembered his promise…From now on…..
For some reason, this fic was so realistic to me 😂 It felt so real?? What? I felt the cold and his breath, I’m kinda freaked out lmao. I should go to sleep 😂
Today's fic for the Writer’s Month 2021 challenge (see @writersmonth for more info) was prompted by @gwen-ever who told me once that there were not enough Dwalin fics in the world. This is my attempt to correct it.
THIS IS FOR YOU, YOU HARD-WORKING WOMAN! 💙💙💙
It’s also my first time with Dwalin as a romantic interest, so forgive me for any errors (also, I was in a hurry) - I hope he’s not too much OOC. Any constructive feedback welcome.
Today's prompt: word: night | setting: tattoo parlor AU
Fandom: The Hobbit
Relationships: Dwalin x Reader
Warnings: grumpy dwarves, 2k words (Mahal help me)
Rating: G/T
Have you ever wondered what would happen if you were a tattoo artist in Erebor (Everyone Lives AU) and Dwalin visited your shop?
As usual, you can read this fic here and on AO3.
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Cookies
The first time that big, angry-looking Dwarf visited your little tattoo parlour, he wanted to touch up some of his tattoos that had faded over time. He had quite a few of them on his body: on his hands, his forearms, even quite a few on top of his head, and you suspected there were more in other places. Being a tattoo artist, you recognized the type easily. For many warriors, it was a way to record their greatest victories and achievements. Judging by the tattoos scattered all over his skin, this one saw many battles.
As you worked on inking the old patterns on his left hand, he sat still, not speaking much; you only managed to drag out of him that he was a warrior, and his name was Dwalin. You did your best when working on his tattoos and even improved their look a bit. After finishing your work, you asked whether he was satisfied with the outcome and were rewarded with a grunt and a nod. Oh well, you thought, perhaps he was just one of those Dwarves of few words.
The second time he visited your little tattoo parlour, he came with a friend, a cheerful Dwarf in a funny hat called Bofur who kept on amusing you with the anecdotes from their travels while you worked on Dwalin’s head tattoos. The warrior would sit still, grunting or chuckling from time to time in all the right places, but that was all he did. After you were done, Dwalin got up from the chair, stretched his impressive body, muttered a few words of thanks pointedly avoiding your eyes, and disappeared through the door as fast as he could. Bofur grinned, made a silly joke, and followed his friend. You sighed. Was Dwalin not happy with your work? Did you take too much of his time and he had a busy schedule? Mahal, have you offended him somehow? Touched his hair by mistake? No, you were sure you didn’t do anything of the sort.
The third time he came, he brought a new and complicated tattoo design that he wanted to add to his existing tattoos and cover his whole arm with the pattern. He agreed on the price at once without any haggling, surprising you completely. A Dwarf that did not haggle was an unusual sight. But perhaps he had a lot on his mind, so you simply shrugged and got on with your work. You couldn’t help but admire his tanned, muscular arm he bared for you, along with his large, calloused hand, but you scolded yourself for unprofessional thoughts. Of course he would have strong arms, a wide chest, and powerful thighs, he was a warrior! You tattooed plenty of those limbs before, but you didn’t know why seeing a piece of this particular Dwarf’s body made your cheeks burn and your heart race.
Starting a friendly conversation with him sounded like a good idea, a welcome distraction, but you completely failed in your efforts. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was a huge, hairy bear sitting in your tattoo chair, staring blankly at the wall, and not Dwalin, son of Fundin. And so you worked in silence. When you finished your work for the day, you tried to coax a few words out of him and once again asked whether he liked the results so far. Dwalin looked at you from under his furrowed brow, pulled his bushy moustache, and said:
“Mhmm.”
That was it. You sighed, and then grunted, and groaned. And then you had to stop, worried that you’d turn into a bear yourself. That Dwarf was impossible!
His fourth visit looked exactly the same. And his fifth one. And the sixth one, too. He grunted, huffed, but barely said a word. You tried to ignore the way his muscles played under his skin and worked on the pattern. And when you informed him that you were done for the day, he would nod or pull his moustache again, and leave lightning fast, as if the mountain was crumbling down around him.
His seventh visit was a literal catastrophe. Dwalin came a bit earlier than usual, in the late afternoon, while you were still working on another customer. The large warrior sat down in a chair nearby and just stared at you, his gaze bright and piercing. You welcomed him as always and offered a plate of cookies that lay on the table beside him. A nod was all you got. You returned to your work, feeling Dwalin’s heavy gaze on you.
And then he grunted. Your other customer, a red-haired miner, shifted nervously in the tattoo chair.
Dwalin growled. The customer cleared his throat and you noticed how his muscles tensed as you worked on a tattoo on his chest.
Dwalin huffed. That was enough for your other customer. He asked you to interrupt your work and informed you he had just recalled an urgent business in the merchants’ quarter that he had to attend to.
When the customer left your tattoo parlour, you met Dwalin’s intent gaze, resting your hands on your hips. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Not only were there a few cookie crumbs in his beard, but also a small smirk of triumph danced on his lips! You had enough!
“What does that supposed to mean?! How dare you scare away my other customers?! Do you think that being a big warrior gives you the right to barge in here and throw angry looks at everyone? How am I even supposed to focus on work with your constant grunting and growling?! Don’t you have better things to do?!”
Dwalin took a step towards you, folded his arms across his chest, and simply said, “No.”
Silence filled the room. You suddenly noticed that his tunic was new, his hair was freshly washed and combed, and his boots were newly polished. He smelled like some exotic spices.
You shook your head, “Is that what you have for me?! A frown and a one-syllable word?!”
When the ground shook beneath your feet, you first thought it was your anger, but then the realization came. A mountain quake. It intensified quickly, making you fall to the ground. Everything went dark while the tremors grew. You heard the low rumbling of the rock beneath you, some shouts and noises, objects crashing against each other. Something heavy pressed you to the ground, perhaps a piece of furniture, at the same moment as big chunks of the ceiling started falling to the floor. You tried to move, but you couldn’t. The only thing you could do was cough, the stone dust filling your lungs.
The tremors stopped as unexpectedly as they started. Once again you tried to move and the heavy object above you grunted. Of course. It wasn’t a table nor a chair. It was Dwalin.
“Get… off…” you muttered. “I need to breathe!”
Another grunt followed, but he lifted his weight from you. Your shop was now as dark as night, but your eyes adjusted to the surroundings quickly. You realized that he was now staring at your face, sitting beside you.
“Are you well, lass?” he asked. Four words. Impressive.
“I… I think so,” you sat up, relieved that you haven’t been injured.
“Thank Mahal,” he muttered, staring at you intently.
At that moment, you weren’t too happy that Dwarves could see quite well in the dark. From what you could observe, your tattoo parlour seemed to be ruined. There was broken furniture, your tools and inks crushed by large pieces of stone - you could only hope that your backroom with all the supplies remained intact.
You turned to Dwalin and then you realized that something glistened on his cheek.
“You are wounded!” you gasped.
“‘Tis but a scratch, lass,” he protested.
“No, it’s not! You’re bleeding!” You moved towards him anyway, tearing off a piece of fabric from your tunic.
“It is nothing,” he started, but then your hand touched his face. As you felt the softness of his beard under your hand, he stiffened, closing his eyes for a moment longer than usual.
“It doesn’t look like nothing to me! Let me help.”
You received a grunt in reply and proceeded to take care of his face. He simply sat there, unmoving, as you gently dabbed his temple.
“I saw that huge stone over there. If not for you, I...” you spoke quietly. “Thank you for saving me, Dwalin.”
“Think nothing of it, lass. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you,” he lowered his face towards yours.
Not believing your ears, you retorted, attempting to joke to mask your feelings, “It is because... I haven’t finished your tattoo yet, isn’t it?”
His eyes shone in the darkness like two diamonds when his hand covered yours and pressed it against his cheek.
“No,” he spoke huskily.
Dwalin’s nose brushed against yours, and then somehow your lips met his, or perhaps it was the other way around. His moustache was surprisingly soft against your skin and his lips gently caressed yours, sending a myriad of shivers down your spine. He tasted like molten dark chocolate and went to your head like good whiskey. Strong and intoxicating. Who would have thought there was so much tenderness hidden behind that scary warrior’s facade?
Dwalin swallowed, pressing his forehead against yours, and then words started spilling out of his mouth, like a sudden mountain avalanche.
“Lass… I need to tell ye somethin’ I wanted to tell ye for a while. When I saw that stone fallin’, I could only think of how I never told ye that…” his voice trailed off and he grunted. “Ye must think me a grump with no manners, and ye’ll be right. Ye’re so talented and quick-witted, and as pretty as a summer day! I forget my tongue every time I see ye.”
Your eyes widened. This silent warrior had just spoken not only a full sentence, but quite a few of them.
“Dwalin…?” you whispered, still dizzy from the kiss, not quite comprehending.
“Aye, ye barely know me, but I’d like to change it. Will you allow me to court you?” his hopeful gaze rested on your face.
This bear of a Dwarf was the grumpiest person you have ever known, and his grunts could scare away a rabid warg, but you’d always liked a challenge. No words were necessary; you simply kissed Dwalin, showing him how much you liked this idea.
A few moments after your lips parted, he murmured, a hint of disbelief in his voice, “So... ye’re not scared of me, are ye, lass?”
“Scared?! I’ve been annoyed with you, that’s what I was, you… You oaf!”
Dwalin opened his mouth and started laughing. As surprising as it was, you had to admit to yourself that he had a pleasant laughter.
“What’s so funny about that?!” you demanded.
“Ye’re a fiery lass. There is no one else who would dare to say it to my face.”
“Well, I do and prepare to hear more of such things in future if you ever return to communicating with me by grunts!” you warned him, stifling a giggle.
“Then I’ll be lookin’ forward to our little sparrings,” he chuckled and kissed your cheek tenderly. “But before that, I have one more question for you before we try to find our way out from here.”
“What is it?” You tilted your head.
“Are there any more of those cookies left?”
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P.S. If you liked "Blame It on Cider", I have good news for you: Thorin and Yrsa are going to come back tomorrow!
Read it? Like it? Spread the love and reblog it!
Fell like reading more?
Here is my masterlist for the Writer's Month 2021 event.
I can imagine being a bit down whilst with the company due to not being as good with weapons as the other dwarves, or as sneaky as bilbo, and dwalin notices and comes over to where youre sat on a damp log (as that’s what you feel you deserve, a nice damp log)and awkwardly lays a hand on your shoulder.
‘Listen ere ya big wet lemon, stop doubting yerself n start smashin’ it ye weirdo, ya can do anythin’ ye want when ye decide to actually believe in yerself.’
Surprisingly, it helped lift your mood. Wether it was the words or the fact the most serious, grumpiest warrior dwarf you knew just called you a ‘big wet lemon’ you weren’t sure, but from then on, whenever you started doubting your place in the company you’d remember his words.
Summary: Trying to deal with Thorin’s death the night after Botfa. Also kind of a platonic Dwalin x reader fic
A/N: Technically this story can actually have 2 more parts if anyone wants to be sad some more
Warnings: SAD, drinking, death
Word Count: 1712
The whole world felt empty. You knew that the battle was won, that your side was victorious, but none of that mattered. Not when the love of your life lay dead on a slab of stone. The memory of his dying words to you seared into your mind.
Many, many years ago a little dwarfling with hair as dark as the dark obsidian and eyes like bright sapphires sat in his mother’s lap.
Those blue eyes were wide and full of wonder as he stared at Princess Dara.
“Mummy, would you tell me a story?” the dwarfling asked.
Dara had smiled and ticked the edges of his face where his sideburns were.
He was so young that his prized Dwarven beard had not yet begun to grow.
The little dwarfling giggled and Princess Dara smiled at her son, “Who does mummy love , Thorin?” she asked him.
“Me!” the little dwarfling cheered.
Princess Dara laughed and gathered the little dwarfling in her arms for a hug, “Alright, Thorin. Go and get us a book.”
Little Thorin raced away to the other side of the room to fetch a book for his mother to read him when his father came in.
Prince Thrain loved his son but he had never been very accustomed to children.
Thorin turned his big blue eyes on his father, “Da!”
Thrain patted Thorin’s head but said nothing else and went about his business.
Thorin, who was quite used to this turned to the bookshelf, to retrieve a book.
“Mummy, can we read about dragons?” the dwarfling asked.
“If you wish.” Princess Dara replied but Thrain snorted.
“Dragons.” he scoffed. “Why would you want to read to him about those slithering serpents? Disgusting, awful, selfish creatures…”
Princess Dara watched with a frown as Thrain left the room to go about his business.
Little Thorin looked to his mother expectantly as she rose from her chair and crossed the room to him.
“Not all dragons are bad, Thorin.” she said and he watched her slender fingers pulled a new book from the shelf.
“They’re not?” he asked following her back to the chair before immediately climbing into her lap.
“No.” she said flipping through the pages of the book until she found the story she wanted.
Little Thorin gasped and his tiny hands splayed out across the book in surprise.
“A girl dragon!” he said. “Mummy! A girl dragon!”
“Yes, Thorin. Isn’t she pretty?” Princess Dara asked.
“Very, very pretty, mommy.” he said examining this dragon.
She was beautiful with all different colors and sparkling gold eyes.
“Would you like to hear about her?” Princess Dara asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yes, mummy. Please. I would.” Thorin said trying his very best to be polite and still.
“There once was a dragon.” Princess Dara began, “Fierce and beautiful, she was.
She lived deep in the jungles of the elves from the far, far east.
She was worshipped as their fire goddess who warmed them at night and protected them instead of using her fire to burn them like other dragons did.
The great Jezguli, fire drake of the east.
Her beauty was unrivaled.
Her scales glittered upon her great body in thousands of different colors….like gems and jewels winking in the light.
Her eyes were great amber orbs brighter and more beautiful than all the gold in the world.
The people loved her.
They adored her and forged great pieces of jewelry for her to wear as a symbol of their respect.
News spread of the generous and kind fire drake.
Most believed it to be myth.
But then something great and terrible came.
Smaug.
A terribly awful red dragon.
Possessive and evil he was.
He flew into the jungles and to the top of a mountain before he opened his terrible jaws and let loose a horrible fire.
The mountain ignited and angry red flowing fire oozed from it engulfing the village.
Jezguli was heartbroken and furious.
How dare he hurt her people!
She attacked the red dragon who laughed.
“They are only elves.” he had said. “Why do you care? They do not deserve your beauty. I know how to treat treasure. Let them burn.”
But Jezguli was not like Smaug and she wept for her people.
She fought Smaug until he fled.
As she heard her people’s screams she could not bare it anymore.
So she flew into the mountain and sacrificed herself to stop the burning.
A great and powerful flash was seen in the sky and the eruption stopped.
The mountain hardened again but the deep red still flowed beneath the ground heating it and the water so that her children would still be warm at night.
Homage was paid to her once every month for many years.
Soon it became tradition.
Tradition became legend.
Legend became myth.
But she was never forgotten.
The people say that sometimes they see a lone dark elf deep within the jungles riding a mighty black cat as large as a horse.
With bow on her back, whip by her side and dagger in her hand she guards the people.
Some say it is Jezguli reincarnated to seek her revenge on Smaug.
Some say she is just a bedtime story.
What do you believe, Thorin?”
Thorin’s blue eyes were as wide as plates as he looked at the rainbow dragon in the book and then at the dark elf riding a large black cat.
“I think she still lives.” Thorin said. “Right, mommy?”
Princess Dara smiled at her son, “I don’t know, Thorin, but someday you’ll be big and strong and I’m sure very adventurous. You might meet her one day.”
“Yes, mommy.” he said looking back to pages. “Could I have this book? I want to put it by my bed. Jezguli is very pretty. I want to look at her.”
Princess Dara smiled and picked up Thorin and carried him to his room.
She opened the book back up to the correct pages and placed it on the table beside Thorin’s bed.
The dwarfling ran his little fingers over the pages.
“Mommy?”
Princess Dara looked down at her son.
“I like treasure too.” he said. “Do you think Jezguli would marry me one day?”
Princess Dara’s eyebrows shot up.
She had not expected that.
“Perhaps she might, Thorin.” she said. “If your heart is true enough.”
Little Thorin gave a determined nod that made his mother smirk just a little bit.
“I could braid her hair and put beads in it. We could ride her kitty cat through the jungle and shoot arrows together, mommy. Don’t you think she would be a pretty princess?” Thorin asked tiredly nodding.
Princess Dara smiled and almost laughed a little a her son’s obvious crush.
“That sounds nice, Thorin. Perhaps one day you’ll bring her to Erebor and she’ll be your Queen.” Princess Dara said.
“Yeah.” sighed a sleepy little Thorin. “I’ll be King Thorin and she’ll be Queen Jezguli. Dragon Queen.”
Thorin’s blue eyes closed and his breathing deepened and when Princess Dara knew he was asleep she let herself out of his room with a chuckle.
Thorin had the wildest ideas sometimes but she treasured those moments for he was still young and pure.
He had not learned the ways of the world to taint his heart.
He still believed in everyone and she hoped that at least part of that would always stay with him.
Next Chapter!
Hey, smooochies! I hope you enjoy the revamp of one of my favorite old stories!! I’m so excited to bring Jezguli onto Tumblr since she is so close to my heart! Be on the lookout for more because I’m redoing several chapters with big plans for the future ones! Eeek! I’m so excited! If you liked this please tell me in the comments! Happy Reading!!
Bucky loves the sounds you make, it started with the cute little chrip that slipped out when you first saw him. Your eyes dilating as you gazed up at him. He knew right then and there he wanted to hear you make that noise again.
He fantasized about the way you said his name, imagining all the ways he could get you to scream it after you became his.
The second favorite sound, well, he discovered that by accident. You were in the middle of an argument when you growled at him. It stopped him mid sentence, his cock stiffening and throbbing when you did it again. You're even sexier when you're angry. He can't even remember what the fight was about, only that it ended with him lifting you off the ground, legs over his massive arms as he pounded into your tight cunt until you were sobbing his name.
But nothing compares to the noises you make when he's fucking you. Oh the way you moan when he's deep inside you almost makes his cum. He's had dreams about the way you softly gasp when he first stretches your little pussy, even after all this time, you're still not used to how big and thick he is.
A few strokes in and your breathy little moans surround him, driving him to go deeper, harder until you're keening, telling him you can't take anymore.
That's what he lives for you, that cute little tremble in your strained voice, pleading with him to let you cum, begging him for more, whimpering that it's too much Bucky, oh god I can't.
That's when he pushes on your belly so you know how deep he is, reminding you that you can take every inch Bunny, your pussy was made for his cock and he's not stopping until you give him one more.
And because you're his good girl, you give him what he wants, letting him feel your tight heat spasm around him as you cum for him again and again. Chanting his name until you're reduced to whimpering and soft grunts.
When your orgasm finally winds down, he places a sweet kiss on your cheek, a smirk forming on his bearded face because you're about to give him last sweet sound. A soft shuddery noise slipping from your slack mouth as he pulls out of your puffy cunt.
"Good girl," he murmurs in your ear. "Since you did so good for me, I'm going to clean your pretty little pussy up with my tongue."
And when he feels a shiver wrack through your sweaty, pliant body as he whispers all the things he's going to do to you, Bucky thinks you might like his mouth just as much as he likes yours.
Legit looks like he stumbled across a conspiracy theory, starts telling people about said conspiracy, figures said conspiracy out, gets a bunch of money from conspiracy.
Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for aa few years. As far as you’re concerned he is the one. But what happens when a blast from the actual past shows up?
A/N: Ive seen a lot stories of Bucky getting his first love from the 40′s back. And I’ve always wondered… what would happen if he was dating someone already? Reader is from this time. Not proofread.
Warning:
–
Bucky tried for several hours to try and get you to open the door. You ignored him, not wanting to see him because you were so angry with him. He promised he would change and make more time for you, and then he leaves you in the middle of sex for her! Dot is his priority, as far as you’re concerned. You roll your eyes as you think about the “trauma” she had. You know she is using their past to manipulate him, and he is being stupid and letting her. Well now he must face the consequences for his actions.
Please do not steal, plagarize or repost my work on any other site. Likes and reblogs make me happy.
I do not have a beta reader. All mistakes are my own.
Summary: Y/N and Bucky are soulmates, bound together. What happens when one cannot remember the other? (I suck at summaries)
Taglist is open for this story! Please let me know what you think!
Dividers by @whimsicalrogers
Chapter 9
*A/N- Sorry. Father’s day got in the way of posting this yesterday. This is a shorter chapter but I’m happy with how the turned out. Big things are happening. Please let me know what you think!*
Bucky woke the next morning, his nose buried in Y/N’s hair as he held her close to his chest. Blinking sleep away he held her closer, reveling in the feel of her. Never again would he take these small moments with her for granted.
Despite his best efforts he couldn't fall back asleep even if his flesh arm had. Why had he not had Y/N sleep on his metal arm? Wincing as he flexed his fingers he gently moved her, freezing as she made a noise of discomfort. Breathing a sigh of relief he moved to stand, making sure to adjust the blankets to cover her and placed a kiss on her forehead.
He covered his mouth to yawn as he walked into the kitchen. Coffee. That was his only thought. Coffee. His cleared his throat as he set up the keurig. Coffee. He smiled as the scent traveled into his nose. Coffee. He cradled the cup in his hands, rim of the cup almost to his lips….
"Morning Mr. Barnes!" Leter exclaimed as he appeared out of what Bucky was sure was nowhere. His voice loud enough to startle the former assassin. "Are you alright?" Peter asked as he saw Bucky wince.
"Fine kid." Bucky gritted his teeth as he wiped spilled coffee on his sweatpants. He had forgotten Peter was going to be here. "What are you up to today?"
Peter shrugged. "Not sure. Schools out this week and Aunt May is away. So I'm going to be spending the week with you and Y/N. If that's ok of course." He held out his hands in submission as he finished speaking.
Bucky waved him off as he began to gather ingredients. "No worries kid. Do you want some breakfast?" He put all the ingredients on the island. "Making bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches." He leaned on the island. "Y/N's favorite."
Peter offered a wide smile. “I knew your girl had good taste.”
Y/N strolled out to the common room, rubbing sleep from her eyes as a yawn escaped her lips. Scratching her scalp she waved at Peter as she stood behind Bucky, her arms circling his waist as her forehead rested on his back.
“Mornin doll.” Bucky laughed as she moved with him. “Coffee?” He chuckled again at her agreeing grumble. “I can’t hand the mug to you if you won’t let me turn around.”
Mumbling a protest Y/N loosened her grip just enough for Bucky to turn in her arms. A smile broke her face as his kiss landed on her nose, praises of ‘there’s my girl’ met her ears.
“What are we doing today?” Peter asked as he put his phone away, happy to see the food put in front of him.
Y/N shrugged as she sat next to Peter. “Whatever you guys want. I don’t have a preference.” She sipped as her sandwich was put in front of her. “Baconeggandcheese!!!!” She said it as one word, excitement in her eyes.
Bucky grinned as he sat beside her. “I know I know. Your favorite.” He kissed the side of her head as she put her cup down. “I’m good to do anything.”
“What about watching movies?” Peter suggested. “Its going to be raining all day.”
“Can we watch the Princess Bride?” Y/N asked.
“What is that about?”
Both Y/N and Bucky froze mid bite. “You’re joking?” Y/N eyed him. “Please tell me you’re joking.” She put her sandwich on her plate as Peter shook his head. “Next you are going to tell me you haven’t seen The Neverending Story.” She scoffed at Peter’s shaking head. Turning to Bucky she exclaimed “Set the theater up. We need to educate him!”
Most of the week went along. Peter would be there in the morning and in the evening. The three of them had trekked out of the tower a few times, making sure to hit most of the landmarks. Eating dirty water hot dogs and pretzels. Bucky and Y/N made it out one night to a bar, teasing each other over a game of pool.
Bucky woke each morning with his girl in his arms. He always woke up first, his body leaning into hers, arms pulling her closer. He wanted nothing more than this. Everything he would ever need was right in his arms.
Towards the end of the week Bucky was woken by the ring of his cell. He turned, one hand silencing the phone as he gently pulled the other out from Y/N. “Hang on.” He whispered to the phone as he stepped outside. Once he was safely in the hallway he put the phone to his ear. “Everything ok Steve?”
Steve’s tired sigh reached Bucky’s ears. “How are Y/N and Peter?”
“Fine. Everything here is fine. What happened?” Bucky was trying not to let his fear dictate his tone.
“Right. Get to the point.” Steve muttered. “I’m sorry Buck. It’s only a few more days but we need you to come out.” He coughed before continuing. “I didn’t want to ask. But Clint is hurt and Tony’s suits are taking a beating. We need the extra muscle.”
Swallowing hard Bucky exhailed his disappointment. He was praying it wouldn’t come to this. He knew he would have to go on the field again eventually. He was hoping to avoid that for a bit longer. But the team needed him. He wouldn’t say no to that. “Yeah. Ok Steve.” He made sure to keep his voice calm. “When do you need me to leave?”
“This afternoon.” Steve’s answer was immediate. “I can only give you the morning to say goodbye to Y/N. I’m really sorry Buck.”
Bucky shook his head, aware Steve couldn’t see the gesture, before he answered. “No need to apologize. You gave me more time than I anticipated. Thanks Steve. I'll leave as soon as we finish breakfast.”
“See you soon Buck.” Steve hung up.
Bucky groaned and headed to the kitchen. He began to mindlessly cook, too focused on the task at hand to hear Y/N enter the room a few minutes later. She took her place behind him, arms around his waist as she rested her head on his back. Feeling his muscles tense she mumbled into his shirt “what’s the matter?”
“I’m sorry doll. But the team needs me to come out for the rest of the mission.” He cursed as he felt her tense behind him. He turned off the stove, gently prying her arms off of him, as he turned to properly hug her. He held onto her, feeling the anxiety in her breathing. “It’s ok. I don;t have to leave just yet.”
Y/N nodded and moved to start the coffee. She didn’t want to say anything. Her anxiety was building. She had not been without Bucky since the accident. The fact that he wouldn’t be standing in the kitchen tomorrow morning made the pit in her stomach grow. She began to worry for him. Worry about how dire the situation for the team was that they needed to call him in. Moving to lean into him she wanted to make sure some part of her was touching him for as much time as they had left. She wondered how she had done this before. God she wished she could remember.
“Take a breath doll.” Bucky tried to soothe as he moved the eggs around the pan. “I’ll text you when I get there. I don’t know if I’ll be able to communicate but I will send a message as often as I can. Steve said it would be a few days. It’s ok. I’ll be back before you know it.”
She nodded again as they sat and ate in silence. She followed Bucky into the bedroom, watching as he picked out clothes for the mission. Still she said nothing. She quietly pulled his red henley out of the suitcase as he went into the bathroom, hiding it under her pillow. She walked with him to the hanger, her hand holding tightly to his. He stopped in front of the small plane he was taking. Looking to the ground she swallowed the lump in her throat as she heard his suitcase stop moving.
“Look at me Y/N.” Bucky’s voice was soft, his warm hands holding her face, wiping the tears she had not realized had fallen from her cheeks. “I’ll be back. Don’t worry.”
“Promise?” She asked tearfully.
“I cross my heart.” Bucky said as he pressed his lips to hers. He held her as close as he could, willing all the love he felt for her into this kiss. “I’ll be back in a few days.” He whispered as he rested his forehead against hers.
Nodding Y/N added “Keep the other’s safe.” She smoothed his shirt as she painfully detached herself from him. “Come back to me.”
Picking the suitcase up Bucky forced a smile he hoped was comforting. “I’m coming back for you.” His steps seemed heavy as he walked into the plane. “I’ll see you in a few days doll. I love you.”
She waved at him before crossing her arms over her chest as if holding herself together. “I love you!”
The first day was hard, the first night worse. Y/N had gotten used to Bucky sleeping with her. She found it hard to stay asleep, choosing to watch TV instead. Bucky had texted her when he arrived as promised. But he had not contacted her since.
To his credit Peter did everything he could the first day to keep her mind occupied. The second day he took her to the museum of natural history. She didn’t remember the Blue Whale. Peter had gotten a bit of excitement in being the one to bring her back for the first time. She refused to go to the Planetarium. Bucky loved space. It was something she wanted to experience with him.
It rained the third day. Still no word from Bucky.
“How did you become Spider Man?” Y/N asked as she made lunch.
“I was bitten by a radioactive spider.” Peter nodded as he spoke. “It was an accident at Oscorp. Took some getting used to.”
“I’ll bet.” Y/N thought a moment. “How did Wanda get her powers?”
“That;s something you should ask her.” Peter was quick to add once he saw the disappointment on Y/N’s face. “Or you can look it up.” He picked up her phone, logging into Stark’s files. He pulled up Wanda’s file. “See?” He handed it back to her, basic information on her screen.
“Can I look up anyone?” She asked as she stared at her screen.
“Yeah. Well anyone that is in the database.” Peter added.
Y/N nodded as she continued to scroll. She sat, forgetting the food. “Oh God.” She whispered.
“What?” Peter asked as he took up her space and continued cooking.
“She volunteered after her family was killed. She and her brother volunteered.”
Peter kept his eyes on the food. “Maybe it isn’t a good idea to be reading this. Maybe you should talk to them.”
“No.” Y/N scoffed. “It’s weird to go up to them and be like ‘I know I don’t remember but can you please tell me how you became what you are?’ That’s just not ok.” She looked back to her phone. “I won’t tell them you showed me how to look.”
Peter exhaled, defeat in his stance.
Day four. No word from Bucky.
“Did you know Nat was recruited?!” Y/N exclaimed as Peter entered the kitchen for breakfast.
“Yeah…”
“Though the file still doesn’t tell me what Bucharest means between her and Clint.”
“To be fair…” Peter defended. “I don’t think anyone knows what Bucharest means.”
“Did you know Bruce is angry all the time. That he has to stay calm to be Bruce? How twisted is that?!”
“I see you read about everyone.”
“A bit here and there.” Y/N shrugged. “This makes it easier to relate to them.”
“School starts again tomorrow.” Peter began. “I have to head back this afternoon.” He met Y/N’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Y/N waved him off. “No worries. I can take care of myself here.” She swallowed hard as her anxiety began to rise.
Peter had left an hour ago. Y/N sat in the common room with her phone in her hand as she finished reading about Sam. She had read about every member of the Avengers.
“Miss Y/L/N.” Friday spoke. “I have been asked to inform you Mr. Barnes and the team are 40 minutes away.”
Y/N perked up on the couch. “Are they ok?” She practically shouted.
“Minor injuries for Mr. Stark and Mr. Barton. The rest are healthy minus a few scratches and bumps. Mr. Barnes is very anxious to see you.”
A wide smile spread on her lips. “I’m excited to see him too.” Y/N whispered to herself. She stood, walking to the kitchen in search of cookies for her and Nat. Tradition.
After she plated the cookies she pulled a teapot down and decided on the tea. It was still too early to begin boiling the water but she could prepare. Looking around she felt nervous energy flow around her. Bucky was coming home!
A thought planted itself in her brain. She had read about every avenger except….
She pulled her phone out again, typing Bucky’s name into the search bar. His file came up:
Name: James Buchanan Barnes
Nickname: Bucky
Born: Shelbyville Indiana
DOB: March 10 1917
Bucky was practically bouncing as the quinjet began it’s descent. He refused to sit, choosing instead to stand near the back door. He was dead tired. The mission took more out of him than he wanted. His phone was destroyed within hours of his arrival. Not that he could contact Y/N if he wanted to.
Y/N. He couldn’t wait to hold her again. Couldn’t wait to see her smile, feel her lips on his, hear her laugh, her voice. Four days was too long. Too long to be away from his girl.
“Almost there Buck.” Steve laughed as the quinjet landed, the others gathering behind him. “She’s going to be in the hanger.”
Bucky ignored Steve, nearly running out of the door once it opened. He was the shadow of her before he saw her. Excitement filling his senses he moved as fast as he could, arms outstretched and a wide smile on his face.
His steps faltered as his eyes landed on Y/N. She stood with her arms crossed, anger painted on her face. Fuck. Dropping his arms he stopped in front of her. “Y/N?” He questioned. “I’m so sorry doll. My phone was destroyed. I couldn’t call you.” He reached for her, flinching when she moved back from his touch. “Y/N?” He tried. “I’m so sorry my love.” He swallowed his nerves down as he felt the anger radiating off of her. “Is there anything I can do to make this better?” He was willing to do anything. He was desperate to hold her, kiss her, love her in any way she would allow.
Y/N’s eyes met his. She had a million things she wanted to say, a million things to yell at him. In the end she decided to keep it simple, making sure he heard the two words, watching as the realization took over his face. “Hello Soldat.”
artist!reader gets a new grumpy neighbor, so you decide to color his world
word count: 5.3k >.<
masterlist
a/n: hi bffs ! hope u r all well <3 thank u lovely anon for this request !! <33 let me know what u all think :] pls forgive my lack of knowledge in art don’t attack me i tried </3 sorry for any typos !!
Your apartment was on the fourth floor in the corner, you had no neighbor to the right of you and a beautiful view of the skyline to your left. There was ms. Mary, the nice old lady across from you, who you helped bring up groceries every week and had dinner with at least once a week. It was nice not having a neighbor, you could blast your music at ungodly hours while you painted and you wouldn’t feel guilty or get evicted.
So you were filled with mixed emotions when you saw a stack of boxes outside the door of the vacant apartment. You eyed the boxes as you crossed the hall catching a glimpse of the messy writing on one box ‘gifts from sam.’
Summary: Your father is the leader of a biker gang, you got out and moved away, years later you return searching someone out with only one person to turn to. (I suck at summaries sorry)
