𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 | 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗎𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗎𝗆

So I’m officially à Montréal girly now …

maverick regularly calls iceman snow queen. and snowman. and jack frost. and frosty. sometimes ice cream when he’s feeling crazy.

when frozen (2013) comes out, pete mitchell has a field day. after a month tom kazansky already reacts to „elsa” as if it was his god given name.

I know I already said this a hundred times but I need a bucky in my life.

Hello! I’ve never sent in a request before but I absolutely love your content! Your writing is just *chefs kiss* immaculate 💕 I currently have covid and it’s been miserable! I keep forgetting to eat and drink because I have no sense of taste/smell so I ended up getting mildly dehydrated which makes it worse- anyway, I was wondering if I could get something with Bucky Barnes taking care of his sick s.o who’s just bad at taking care of herself? I need the Bucky fluff for medicinal purposes :’) I hope you have a good day! Thank you, in advance <3

Ohhh nooo, I hope you feel better soon love! And thank you for giving me the gift of popping your request cherry <3

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By Your Side || Bucky

Warnings: slight nudity, just a whole lot of FLUFF and LOVE WC: 1.1k

“I hate leaving you like this.” Bucky murmured as you gingerly laid down on the couch with a blanket wrapped firmly around your body.

“It’s just a sniffle, go save the world.” You reassured him as you weakly brushed away his palm that he pressed to your forehead.

He looked torn as he heard Sam toot the horn outside, debating on sending Sam into the fray on his own until he saw the stern look in your eye. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

He pressed a kiss to your lips despite your attempt to stop him, worried he might catch your cold but he just chuckled. “I’m a super soldier, doll, you don’t have to worry about me. Just let me worry about you.”

Your eyes were drifting shut before he had even closed the door and you fell into the deep sleep that you needed to win the fight happening inside your body. Unfortunately, when you woke up you felt even worse, obviously your body was not winning this fight and you were feeling the ache of the loss everywhere. Your head was pounding and your throat felt like you were swallowing razor blades as you sat up and tried to sip the bottle of Gatorade that you didn't remember seeing earlier. One sip hurt your throat and left you groaning as you failed to taste the flavour of the drink, leading you to put it back down on the side table.

It was only then that you noticed Bucky’s jacket hanging at the door and his shoes on the floor. You were just about to call out for him when Bucky walked in from the bedroom, wearing his comfortable home clothes consisting of sweatpants and a singlet. You could see the concern in his eyes as he took in the pile of tissues beside you and the almost untouched bottle of Gatorade. “Baby, you need to drink.”

You pointed to your throat as your face pinched with your swallow, you had tried to tell him it hurt but found your voice nonexistent.

“I know it hurts, doll, but I can’t have you getting dehydrated.” He said as he took the lid off the bottle and sat down beside you. “Have just a little sip for me, please?”

You knew you were going to regret it but you found your lips parting for him and the cool liquid filled your mouth. If your mouth hadn’t been full you would have whimpered as you swallowed the sandpaper that lined your throat. The pain was almost worth it as his blue eyes shone with pride and his thumb caressed your cheek softly. “Good girl. Have you eaten?”

You begged him with pleading eyes to not try and make you eat but he wasn’t having any of it so you went with distraction. “How was the mission?”

“Decided I had something much more important to take care of.” He smiled softly. “Now, I’m going to run you a bath and you are going to soak until your dinner is ready.”

He knew that as much as it hurt, you needed nutritious food to get better faster. For the first time he didn’t mind playing the bad guy if it meant making you healthier. He pressed another kiss to your clammy forehead before heading to the bathroom and running the hot water. It was like time kept fading in and out as a moment later he was back in front of you, untucking you from the blankets you were wrapped in and helping you to your feet.

You could barely walk as every muscle in your body ached and your head spun from the dehydration. Thankfully Bucky was more than strong enough to take your weight and his metal arm wrapped around your waist to half carry you to the bathroom. Steam filled the room and you could see the fizz of bubbles in the bath but missed their usual lavender scent when you inhaled.

“This sucks.” You groaned as Bucky began to peel your pyjamas off that you still hadn’t changed out of. “This is my favourite bath bomb and I can’t even enjoy it.”

“I’ll take you to get some more of them for when you are feeling better.” He chuckled as you pouted at the empty Lush box. “Let me help you in, can’t have you slipping and breaking your arm on top of this.”

You took his hand and he helped lower you into the hot water that rose dangerously high to the rim but just stopped before overflowing. A sigh of contentment rose in your chest as the water settled around your neck and the aches began to ease under the weightlessness of the water.

“I put some Epsom Salts in too.” Bucky said as he swirled the water around with his hand, the colours of the bath bomb creating an abstract work of art. “Call out if you need anything.”

You nodded as you closed your eyes and rested your head against the bath pillow he had placed to make you even more comfortable, hearing the door close softly behind him to keep the steam trapped. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have Bucky, the way he took care of you, the way he put you first, he was perfect. You didn’t even realise you were crying until he came back in with a tray of dishes.

“Woah, baby, what’s wrong?” He asked as he placed the tray on the vanity and knelt down behind you as you hiccuped.

“You’re just. Too good. To me.” You sniffed as he wiped your tears away and relaxed in the fact that you weren’t hurt. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He said as he cupped your face and kept your eyes locked on his. “You know I’m gonna take care of you for the rest of your life. Every cold, every tummy bug, I’ll be by your side.”

“I don’t know how to thank you.” You whispered, since he never got sick you wouldn’t get the chance to return the favour.

He reached up for a bowl and spoon but you couldn’t see what was in it as he brought it up to the edge of the bath. “You can start with opening your mouth.”

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oh so when wanda maximoff creates an alternate universe to deal with all of her trauma she's "super impressive" and "the most powerful person in the mcu" but when i do it i'm "using unhealthy coping mechanisms" and "should go to therapy" smh so tired of these double standards

Jake beating the shit out of his father… WE LOVE THAT .

And please tell me Why The first thing that I thought when I read that Jake’s lips were busted I thought:

“Oooh no they are not gonna be able to kiss for a while” 😭😭🤦🏻

More Hearts Than Mine Part 10

In which Jakes family comes to have a talk and things hit a boiling point.

Series Masterlist

TW:swearing,violence, brief mentions of blood

Word Count:2.7k

A/N: jake deserves better (I say as I’m the sole creator of his pain lol) also this gif??? The nose crinkle!!!

You and Jake have spent the past week since the phone call on edge and running through endless scenarios of how it could go. Now it’s finally Saturday and you’re flitting around the house cleaning like a mad woman while awaiting their arrival. Jake left about thirty minutes ago to pick them up from the airport and your heart leaps into your throat when you hear car doors closing.

You quickly put the vacuum back in the hall closet and check your appearance one last time. You close your eyes and take a deep breath to try and calm your nerves to no avail. You wait just inside the door when you hear a key turning and plaster a bright smile across your features.

The door swings open and you’re met first with your fiancé’s face followed by that of his mother, father, and sisters. “Hey,” you greet. “Welcome to sunny San Diego. How was your flight?” You ask, desperate not to have an awkward silence.

Catherine smiles and puts her bag in Jake’s outstretched hands. “Thank you, honey.” She tells him before turning to you. “It was lovely. Everything went as smoothly as possible.” She answers with a smile and you nod.

“Well, that’s nice. Flying can be a real nightmare sometimes.” You chuckle and she grins with a short nod. She turns to her daughters and waves them over. The two women step forward silently and Catherine smiles.

“This is Josephine, but she goes by Josie. She’s the youngest.” She explains while pointing to the blonde who bears a striking resemblance to Jake. You stick out your hand and she shakes it. “Nice to properly meet you.”

Jake’s other sister takes it upon herself to greet you and you note that it’s the same woman that opened the door at Christmas. “I’m Jane, the oldest of the group. I want to apologize for how I acted at Christmas. It was rude and I should have made more of an effort to welcome you.” She apologizes and you wave her off with a smile.

“Apology accepted, it’s all water under the bridge. Tensions were running high, consider this our first interaction.” You assure her and she smiles with a short nod.

Jake comes back from dropping the bags off and walks up behind you while wrapping his arms around your waist. You look behind the three women and make eye contact with his dad and your gaze hardens slightly.

“Jacob.” You say curtly and he clears his throat. “Y/N.”

You look him over briefly and notice he still has a hint of a bruise around his eye and it takes everything in you not to smile. Jake takes a second to greet his mom and sisters, ignoring his father’s presence completely.

You sigh and clap your hands. “Why don’t we move to the living room?” You suggest and everyone nods in agreement before following you. Jake takes your hand and the two of you guide the group through the entryway and into the shared space.

Everyone timidly takes their seats, you and Jake on the loveseat and the four Seresins on the large couch. You squeeze Jake’s hand and Catherine clears her throat.

“So,” she begins and the two of you turn your attention to her. “Let’s just get this out of the way.” You take a deep breath and brace for what’s to come. “The girls and I would like to be a part of your lives if you’ll allow us.”

You feel Jake tense slightly and shoot him a worried glance. He takes a moment to process before speaking. “We’d like that, but I’m not sure how you’re expecting that to work.” He explains while shooting a sharp look at his dad.

Catherine sighs and nods her head. “Yes, I see your concern but I assure you it won’t be an issue. There’s something else Id like to talk to you about as well.” She says and you feel your heart rate speed up.

Jake’s eyebrows furrow and he stays silent waiting for the woman to continue. “I’d like to pay for the wedding. Anything you want, no budget.” She offers while glancing between you and Jake. Your eyes widen and your head whips to look at your fiancé.

You see the same shocked expression on his face but before either of you can respond, Jacob speaks up. “I’m not paying for him to marry the bitch that assaulted me!” He exclaims while pointing an accusatory finger at you.

Your eyes narrow and before Jake can get a word in edge-wise, you bite back. “Call me a bitch one more time and see if I don’t it again.” Your voice is laced with venom and you see anger cross the man’s face.

He opens his mouth and Catherine puts her hand up. “Jacob so help me god, I have had it with you.” She spits and yours and Jake’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’re not paying for a damn thing, I am.”

Jacob scoffs at his wife and crosses his arms. “And whose money are you using, sweetheart.” Your blood boils at the way he’s speaking to her and you debate jumping to her defense when she laughs.

“Well,” she begins. “It’ll be my money after I leave you.”

You hear Jake choke next to you and you rub his back soothingly while staring at the train wreck in front of you. Jacob lurches forward and you swear his eyes are completely black. “You can’t leave me, Catherine. Our prenup is ironclad. If you leave me, you’ll lose everything.” He laughs darkly.

You and Jake look at each other for a second before turning back to the impending war going down in your home. Catherine shrugs casually and leans back into the couch cushion.

“That’s what I thought too, except I remembered that little affair you think I don’t know about. I had an infidelity clause written into our prenup that states I receive the ranch and every last penny along with 50% of any future earnings if you ever have extramarital relations. You’re fucked, Jacob.”

Your hand flies up to your mouth and you’re certain your eyes are about to bulge out of your head. Your gaze turns to Jacob and you see his face blanch. He shakes his head and stands up quickly.

He advances toward Catherine and before your brain can catch up, Jake jumps up and steps defensively in front of his mother. You stand and motion for the three women to move to the other side of the room with you, well aware of what Jake is capable of if he’s angry enough. This is three decades worth of rage waiting to be let out and you have an inkling it’s going to be ugly.

Jacob laughs bitterly and tries to step around his son only to be intercepted. “Do not take another step toward them.” Jake says firmly and his father’s eyes dart over his shoulder to look at the four of you.

“You can’t do this Catherine. It will destroy my image.” He tries to reason and you scoff. “Your wife just said she’s leaving you and all you care about is your image?” You laugh in disbelief and the man glowers at you.

“Shut the fuck up. This is a family matter.” He barks while angrily pointing at you. Jake shoves his father back and squares his shoulders. “Do you ever learn? Don’t fucking talk to my future wife like that.” He growls and you smirk.

Catherine shakes her head next to you. “You destroyed this family for 30 years, Jacob. Whatever karma brings you is not my problem. Y/N is more part of this family than you are.” You see Josie and Jane each grab their mother’s hands and Jacob’s eyes quickly lock onto the interaction.

He looks at his daughters and you see his chest heaving with angry breaths. “What is this? Some sort of coup?” He yells and the two women shrink under his hateful gaze. You block them with your body as best you can and stare back at the man just as viciously.

In a matter of minutes, you’ve found yourself having the same protective instinct over them as you do for Jake. You decide at that moment that if it comes down to it, you’ll gladly lay their father out again. Though based on Jake’s body language, you’re guessing he’ll beat you to it.

Jacob shakes his head condescendingly and puts his hands on his hips. “After everything I’ve done, this is how I’m repaid.” He turns around and paces for a moment and you think he might be on the brink of a psychotic break. He stops to take a deep breath and for a split second, you wonder if he’ll just accept defeat.

You’re quickly proven wrong when he whips back around and lunges for Catherine. “You ungrateful fucking bitches!” You don’t flinch at the sudden act of aggression, standing tall and unwavering in your place. You notice Catherine stand up straighter in an act of defiance and feel a surge of pride at the way she’s standing her ground.

Even though Jake’s back is facing you, you see the exact moment it happens. Something in him switches at the violent outburst from his father and you watch as his muscles ripple with restraint. You’ve seen this a few times before when a man gets handsy with you or Phoenix, it’s like something takes over your fiancé and he operates off of pure animalistic instinct.

Jacob slams directly into his son’s chest and Jake doesn’t budge. He’s like a wall, and with the adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream he’s an immovable force. “You have one chance to leave.” He offers and Jacob laughs.

Jake turns his head to face you over his shoulder and his next words have you scrambling for your phone before he even finishes speaking. “Call Rooster and Mav.” His voice is hard and you wonder what exactly he’s planning.

Before you can consider any possibilities, you watch with wide eyes as Jake puts his father in a headlock and the two men start flailing around. You clamber to the side as Jacob kicks over your coffee table and you corral the women to the kitchen as you quickly find Bradley’s contact.

You tremble as you press the phone to your ear and hear Jake wrestling his dad out the front door and into the front yard. You catch Catherine’s hand as she tries to follow them and shake your head.

“Let them go.” She stares at you with tears in her eyes and your attention is drawn back to your phone when you hear Bradley’s voice.

“Hello?” He asks with confusion clear in his voice and you sigh a breath of relief. “Is everything okay? I thought you were with Jake’s fa-“ You cut him off mid-sentence and the words rush together as you try to explain.

“Jake needs help. They’re fighting in the front yard.” You’re met with silence and you can almost see the frown on Bradley’s face as he tries to make sense of what you just said. “Okay. I’m on my way. I’ll bring Mav.” He says and you thank him quickly before hanging up.

Bradley and Mav must have been close because it’s not even five minutes before they come screeching into the driveway. The two men jump out of the blue bronco and rush over to the MMA match happening.

You stare as Bradley grabs Jake and Mav grabs Jacob, forcing them apart. You see that Jake has a busted lip but his dad is much worse off. The older man has a split eyebrow and blood pouring from his mouth as he stumbles backward.

Once they’ve got a good amount of distance between them you hear Bradley trying to calm Jake down as his dad continues fighting against Mav. You don’t know what Mav says but you can see the fury written clearly on his face and it must have knocked some sense into the older Seresin because he shakes his head and walks off.

Once he’s gone, you rush to your fiancé and throw your arms around his now-shaking figure. “Let’s go inside and get you cleaned up.” It’s not so much a suggestion as it is an instruction and Jake follows you silently. He shoots his mom and sisters an apologetic look and continues up toward your shared bathroom.

Once you’re inside, he sits on the counter and you stand between his legs with a first aid kit. You sigh deeply as you blot at his lip, noting that the bleeding has stopped on its own. Once you’re satisfied, you lean back and take his face in your hands.

You see the tears gathering on his waterline and your eyes soften. “Oh, baby. Come here.” You comfort him and his face drops into your shoulder. You hold him against you as he lets out heavy sobs and your heart breaks. You feel a few of your own tears fall and squeeze your eyes shut.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes before he finally pulls back and looks at you with puffy bloodshot eyes. “I’m sorry.” He says with a wobbly voice and you shake your head. “Don’t you dare. You did nothing wrong. That man terrorized you and your family for years. If anything I’m surprised you didn’t snap sooner.”

Jake takes a deep breath and you give him a reassuring smile. “Let’s get you situated and go back downstairs, okay?” You say while wetting a washcloth with cold water to soothe his swollen eyes and cheeks.

Once the blotchiness is mostly gone, the two of you return hand in hand. Bradley and Maverick are laughing on the couch with the three women and you smile at the sight. Catherine notices your presence first and bolts over to Jake, taking him in her arms.

“Oh, honey. Are you okay?” She asks while frantically scanning his face and body for injuries. Jake frowns slightly and shakes his head. “I’m fine mom. You’re not mad?” He asks and Catherine scoffs.

“How could I be mad at you for protecting us?” She asks and Jake just shrugs his shoulders timidly. You can tell he’s uncomfortable and attempt to change the subject.

“Why don’t we order some Chinese and have a night in?” You propose and everyone enthusiastically agrees.

“You guys are staying right?” You ask the other two pilots and they look at each other before shrugging. “If you want us to. Don’t want to impose.” Mav says and you roll your eyes. “Of course we want you to. You couldn’t impose if you tried, don’t be ridiculous.”

Once everyone’s order is placed the seven of you sprawl out around the living room. It takes a while for the food to arrive but once it does, the rest of the night is spent eating and laughing. You notice Bradley hitting it off with Josie and shoot Jake a knowing look.

He shakes his head at the idea and pretends to gag, making you laugh loudly. You turn to the other three women and smile. “Hey, I have a question.” You say and they look over at you expectantly. You hesitate for a second and decide to just go for it.

“Well, I was going to go look at dresses in a couple weeks. My friend Phoenix is coming and my mom and sisters are flying out. I was wondering if you ladies would like to come too?” You ask apprehensively and Josie shrieks.

“Of course!” She exclaims and her mom and sister quickly agree. You laugh at their eagerness and fall back as the youngest sister tackles you in a hug. “Okay, I’ll send you all of the information.” You tell them and Jake stares at you with pure adoration.

Things may not be perfect, but this is as close as he’s ever come to having a real relationship with his family and he can’t help but feel his heart swell at the idea of you bonding with the women in his life. Things with his dad have finally hit rock bottom, but it can only go up from here.

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The Super Soldier Who Loved Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky is concerned that he’s not as romantic as the men in the period dramas that Reader loves.

A/N: This piece is purely self-indulgent and all I can say is that I need Sebastian Stan to be cast in a period drama so I can see him in a puffy shirt. Also Bucky being so soft for reader has my whole heart.

“Oh my god, Buck, this is it! This is my favourite bit!” You said excitedly, slapping his knee repeatedly.

Bucky chuckled at how cute you were before looking up at the screen to come face to face with someone he’d soon deem to be his rival: Anthony Bridgerton.

“And it is not far enough! Do you think that there is a corner of this earth that you could travel to far away enough, to free me from this torment? I am a gentleman. My father raised me to act with honour; but that honour is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence.

You are the bane of my existence…

And the object of all my desires.”

Religiously, you recited the words with Anthony and then dramatically flopped your head into Bucky’s lap. Your boyfriend smiled at you throughout your Oscar-winning performance and began stroking your hair as your eyes were glued to the screen.

“Isn’t that just… ugh. It’s amazing. If I was Kate I’d have collapsed.” You reviewed, squeezing the remote and humming contentedly at Bucky brushing his fingers through your hair.

Bucky frowned, looking up at the screen again. In all seriousness, he hadn’t really been paying attention to Bridgerton. He had returned from a three week long mission in Mexico in the early hours of that morning. There was barely any time for sleep as he was too excited to see you. He had got into bed and cuddled into you, eager for you to wake up and see he was there. When you did eventually waken, you had pinned him down and pressed kisses all over his face. After ensuring he was unharmed and didn’t have any wounds you needed to tend to, you spent hours talking; catching up on what had happened on the mission and informing him of the latest gossip in the compound.

After the late night and lack of sleep, a lazy Sunday afternoon on the couch with his best girl as she watched her comfort show seemed perfect to Bucky. That was, until Anthony Bridgerton reminded him of his incompetence.

Bucky thought it was so endearing and adorable that you loved period dramas and romance. You were such a thoughtful and kind girlfriend. He’d never felt so loved, even back in the 40s when his family were still alive; even by Steve who had risked everything to save him. You had always been different; you were gentle and always knew exactly what to say. It meant that when you did melt at the words of men in your beloved period dramas, Bucky felt a twang of pain that he didn’t have the same vocabulary or eloquence.

When you had made him watch Jane Eyre, he’d clenched his jaw at Mr Rochester as though he was facing up to a Hydra agent when he said: “I have a strange feeling with regard to you, as if i had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. and if you were to leave, i'm afraid that cord of communion would snap.”

Mr Darcy from Pride and Prejudice was not much better as he confessed his love with: “If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever. If, however, your feelings have changed, I will have to tell you: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love - I love - I love you.” This had Bucky staring at the screen in wide-eyed disbelief that someone could actually formulate those words in their head. Meanwhile, you were cuddled up to him on the verge of sobbing and saying “isn’t that beautiful?”

He had almost sympathised with Mr Knightley when he explained to Emma “maybe if I loved you less, I could talk about it more.” Bucky had related to that one as this is what he felt about you. Finally, one of these idyllic and charming men understood him.

That was until he remembered how you had squealed earlier in the film when Mr Knightley was so overcome with his love for Emma that he’d stripped himself of his jacket and threw himself on the floor in frustration. You had slapped Bucky’s chest at this point with a “how gorgeous is that scene?” Bucky had concluded based on that, Mr Knightley was not on his side.

He almost felt like he was wasting your time. Bucky was far from the romantic, puffy shirt wearing gentleman who had a gorgeous grasp on the English language that you loved so much.

Bucky looked down at you and tickled the back of your neck a little, wishing he could be better. You giggled and shuffled to reposition yourself on his lap, completely oblivious as to how nervous and insecure Bucky was feeling.

*

“Of course Y/N loves period dramas! She is dating a 106 year old!” Sam laughed hysterically. “The girl has a type, man.”

Bucky grimaced at Sam’s remark. “Yeah but I’m not like them. I love her so much but I don’t know how to say it the way they do.”

Sam shook his head and handed his friend a coffee. “Buck, no one does. We don’t speak Shakespeare nowadays.”

Bucky sipped his coffee thoughtfully, digesting what Sam’s words. Whilst Sam was right, Bucky couldn’t help shake the feeling that he wasn’t romantic enough for you. It had been plaguing his mind that week ever since you’d watched it on Sunday. You had left for a mission on Monday morning and his brain had been doing overtime trying to think of ways to improve his romance game.

“Anyway, I don’t think anyone actually did speak like that in those days. It’s a made up story, Buck. Just dig out your old war uniform and show her a good time that way.” Sam playfully winked and Bucky let out a bashful chuckle.

“I think she is more into the puffy shirts kinda thing.” Bucky responded, anxiously playing with his fingers. “Help me out, she comes back from her mission tonight and I want to surprise her with at least something.”

Before Sam could offer any suggestions, he was cut off by Peter, who had been sitting at the kitchen table with his face buried in a book and listening to music.

“I’m studying Shakespeare in English class right now! I can give you a sonnet to read to her.” Peter smiled, taking his headphones off. Sam and Bucky had assumed he wasn’t paying attention to their conversation but were pleasantly surprised to hear that he was.

Sam folded his arms and looked at Peter for a minute. “You know I think the little spider freak is right.”

“Spider-Man.” Peter corrected.

Bucky thought it over, looking between Sam and Peter. He wanted to show you that he could be romantic the way you needed him to be. Whilst the thought of reading out a Shakespeare sonnet made him feel extremely uncomfortable, the possibility of you reacting to him the way you did for your beloved characters was all the motivation he needed.

“Okay, fine. What have you got, kid?” Bucky asked eventually. Peter frantically looked through the papers on the table and landed on one that was decorated with highlighting, scribbling and notes.

Bucky reluctantly took the sonnet and read it over, knitting his eyebrows together in concentration.

“Look at that cyborg brain go. Taking in all that data?” Sam joked, slapping Bucky’s shoulder. “Remember when you read it out to her, you need to show that emotion and passion, that’s what she’ll want.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said with a frown. “Got it.”

*

Bucky smoothed down the puffy shirt he’d bought for the occasion with his vibranium hand. He wanted to dress the part while he read out the sonnet and give you the full experience you had no doubt dreamed of. However, he did think it wise to not share this part of the plan with Sam otherwise he’d never have heard the end of it. The shirt felt a little gratuitous but he was sure you would like it and that was all that mattered.

The super soldier was shaking with anxiety. He could go into dangerous missions stealthily and unfazed. But his nerves were getting the better of him now as he recited the sonnet once more under his breath. Desperately, he tried to inject some passion into his performance but he couldn’t relate to the words in front of him. They weren’t nearly as special enough for you. He cringed at the words but continued to try and memorise them nonetheless.

When you got back to the compound, you wasted no time in rushing upstairs to Bucky’s room. You opened the door, slung your duffel bag off your shoulder and started to remove your tactical jacket before freezing at the sight of Bucky in a puffy shirt. Perhaps you were tired from the mission or just jet lagged but you didn’t question his attire. Instead, you enjoyed the view of your tough super soldier boyfriend wearing one of those romantic and gorgeous shirts that clung to his broad shoulders perfectly.

“Baby, I have to say I have dreamed about you wearing one of those shirts but now I’ve seen it in person… wow.” You took him in for a second before hungrily stalking over and tugging at the shirt. “This was a lovely surprise to come home from a mission to.”

Bucky looked down at what you were doing and moved your hands away, chuckling at you.

“We can do that later, Doll. There’s something I want to say first.”

“Okay, I’m all ears.” It wasn’t until this point that you noticed he was nervous and holding paper in his hand. Bucky put his hands on your shoulders and manoeuvred you so that you were sitting on the edge of the bed and he was standing facing you.

You folded your arms and raised your eyebrow at him expectantly. Bucky inhaled deeply and stared down at the paper. Eventually, he scrunched the paper up and stuck it in the pocket of his trousers. You deserved better than someone else’s words. You deserved him to at least try and use his own.

“Okay, Doll, so the thing is, I know you love it in those period dramas when the hero-“

“I wouldn’t exactly call Anthony Bridgerton a hero, babe.”

“Well, okay, when the main guy makes this grand romantic gesture or speech to a woman. And all I can say is that I don’t know how to use flowery language or where to start with making big gestures. What I do know is that you’re my hero. You’re the best girlfriend I could ever have hoped for, you make me feel so loved and so safe. I love that you play with my hair when I’m anxious. I love that you take care of me when I have a panic attack or a nightmare. I love that you leave me little notes and that you give me gentle kisses all the time. I love you, Y/N. And I wish I was better with the pretty words or the expression of love but I just want you to know I’m trying to be better, for you. All I want to do is make you feel as happy and safe as you make me feel.”

The words replayed over and over in your head as you stared up at your boyfriend who was now shaking like a leaf after pouring his heart out. Yes, it didn’t have the same gallant polish as Anthony Bridgerton or Edward Rochester or Fitzwilliam Darcy; but you didn’t care. Despite what Bucky had thought, he’d actually done the big gesture he had deemed himself incapable of. He had taken something so dear and important to you and paid respect to it by wearing the shirt and trying to deliver a romantic speech to make you happy. It was perfect, truly perfect.

The gesture rendered you speechless which didn’t help Bucky’s nerves. He was quivering, waiting for your response until you got up from your spot and wrapped your arms round his neck, pulling him close. He concluded that this meant you were happy with his speech and started to feel secure again, slowly putting his hands on your waist to ground himself. He buried his head into your neck and pressed some light kisses to your soft skin.

“That was beautiful, Bucky, thank you.” You whispered and kissed the side of his head repeatedly. “You’re more of a romantic than you thought.”

“You think so?” He hummed against your neck, taking in your scent that he’d missed while you were away.

“I know so.” You asserted. “That was the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Bucky couldn’t help but grin and feel proud of himself. He squeezed your waist and pulled you as close to him as humanly possible. You ran your fingers through his hair, massaging little circles in all the spots on his scalp that you knew brought him comfort. Both of you absorbed the moment, slightly swaying from side to side, exchanging I love you’s and other sweet nothings.

“Now,” you chuckled after a couple of minutes and grasped a handful of the material of the shirt at Bucky’s back. “As much as I love this on you, I want it off.”

Safe Place

Summary: You are Bucky’s safe place. Well your boobs are. 

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, mention of boobs

Word count: 317 short but sweet

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

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It all started on a sunny Tuesday. You and Bucky were currently laying on the sofa in the common room of the tower, Bucky was laying between your legs, his hips were on yours pining you down so you couldn’t move, not that you want too anyway. 

It was a bad day today. You knew it was because he was like a lost puppy dog following you around all day begging for his safe place.

And that’s how you ended up pinned under a super soldier, with his face gently nestled in between your boobs while you were reading your book. A comforting silence washed over you both, making Bucky sigh with calmness. His hands trying to go around you so he could be closer, so you arched your back slightly to help him and relaxed when he connected his arms.

You heard a muffled “thank you” causing you to giggle slightly at the vibrations in your chest.

“You’re most welcome bubba.” You whispered, kissing the top of his head as to not disturb the peaceful silence between you both.

It was a little over an hour when your silence was interrupted by the ding of the elevator, causing you to look up from your book to see Sam walking out with his head in his phone.

“Hey.” He greeted, doing a double take. “What is he doing?”

“Hi, Sam.” You greeted back, smiling at him, and then going back to your book. “It’s not a good day today.”

Sam nodded understandingly, hearing a muffled “piss off pigeon” causing him to shake his head as you giggled again from the vibrations.

“Feel better soon, Tin Man.” Sam called before walking away, making Bucky growl into your chest.

“Hey. Less of that.” You scolded playful as he whined, snuggling into your boobs more and sighing happily.

He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

You are Bucky’s safe place.

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This is easily my favorite series and the fact that it gets better every you write a new part

Run These Streets {4} || Street Racer!Bucky

Summary: You take it upon yourself to get Bucky out of his funk after receiving home detention for his racing. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, illegal racing, changing wound dressings WC: 2.5k

Bucky Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

The local radio station was playing loudly in Bucky’s garage when you arrived. He didn’t even hear that you had pulled up until you turned the volume down and he smelt the food you had bought with you. “You need to rest babe.” 

Bucky winced as he stood up from the empty engine bay he was inspecting. He looked like he was about to argue but wisely closed his mouth when he saw the bandage on his side was turning red. “Fine.”

“Scrub up and come inside, I got your favourite.” You ordered as you teased the mouth watering bag in front of his face while walking past. 

“You are my favourite.” He called out as he watched you disappear into the house, your soft laugh drifting back.

The oil and grime was stubborn and by the time he had scrubbed his hands clean you had set the table and poured you both some homemade ice tea. You could see he was in pain as he gingerly lowered himself into the chair so you opened the cupboard that was littered with pill bottles and half empty first aid kits.

“How do you find anything here?” You mumbled as you looked at the labels and found most of them had expired years ago. “Honestly, I don’t even know how you survived on your own so long.”

“Luck mostly.” He chuckled before groaning. “I may have pushed it this time.”

“You think?” You shook your head as you carried a few rolls of gauze and painkillers. “Take these and lean back. Your bandage is soaked.”

You carefully took off the soiled bandage, trying not to hurt him anymore, and felt your stomach roll at the sight of the sutures that followed the line of his ribs. None of them looked torn but the wound was still bleeding so you wrapped it again with fresh gauze and checked he had swallowed the painkillers.

“You’re lucky you didn’t have to go back to the hospital.” You tutted. “Do you know what a pain in the ass it is having to get hold of your probation officer?”

“Not really,” he admitted with a timid smile, “that’s why you’re so great, because you take care of all that shit for me, and I love you for it.”

“Nice save.” You giggled as he sat up and kissed you before you took your seat. “What’s the damage?”

“I can save a few parts but she needs a new engine and most of the panels replacing but the chassis is straight so she’s not completely written off.” He muttered as he pushed his food around the plate. “It’s gonna cost a fortune that I don’t have.”

“I know how much that car meant to you.” You said softly as you placed your hand over his. “We’ll find a way to get her fixed.”

He wasn’t convinced as he chewed his lip. There weren’t many options left since he was on house arrest for illegal street racing that resulted in the crash. Even if he wanted a mainstream job he couldn’t leave his front yard and he doubted many people would hire him after the addition to his record.

“I’m going to go lay down for a bit.” He mumbled quietly after eating in silence.

You were about to offer to join him, even though it was far too early for you to be able to sleep all night, when your phones buzzed simultaneously.

Unknown Number: 14th and 3rd. Midnight.

Bucky’s phone was tossed away angrily and you sighed heavily as you got up to grab it, finding no new cracks on the screen. He had been in the hospital for the race the week before and you wondered if every Friday night would be this hard for him. The four month sentence suddenly seemed a whole lot harder, especially if he couldn’t have some connection to the racing scene.

Grabbing your laptop, you came up with an idea and worked quietly, tinkering with Bucky’s TV while he slept. When you were all set up you walked into his room you were surprised to find him wide awake, staring blankly at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling. 

“Babe, I have a surprise.” You whispered as you broke through his harsh self reflection he had been stuck in. “Two actually - though one you might not like.”

He frowned at that and sat up, his chest still shirtless despite the drop in temperature. “Yeah, doll? Why’s that?”

“Why don’t you come to the living room first.” You said as you offered your hand to help him stand, linking your fingers as you led him down the hallway. “I connected my laptop to the tv so that you can still watch the race tonight but, and this is the part you won’t like but hear me out, it's connected to our headcam.”

“So you’ll have to be there, racing, for me to watch.” He laughed humorlessly as he shook his head. “No way, doll, you’re not going out there without me.”

“It’s a win-win babe, you still get to watch what you love and we kinda need the prize money for those repairs.” You argued as you sat him on the couch and let him pull you to his side.

“Not if it means risking your life. The Camaro isn’t worth that.” 

“You know I can drive, just as good as you.” You said, taking a deep breath. “I’m doing this Bucky, with or without you…but I could really do with you having my back.”

You held out your headset that was already connected to the laptop and waited as he stared at it. You were about to give up when you saw him look away but with a heavy sigh of his own, he took the headset and placed it on his lap.

“No unnecessary risks, you hear me?” Bucky warned. “If you get a hint of any dodgy shit from the other drivers, you pull out. And, I will cut this ankle bracelet and steal a car to come find you if this connection cuts out for more than a second.”

“Deal.” You grinned as you jumped up. “I need to steal your tires real quick and head off.” 

“Take a breath.” Bucky caught you by the hand and kissed your knuckles. “Adrenaline makes for easy mistakes.”

“I know, I know. It’s just been years since I last had a proper race, I forgot how it feels.” You rambled as you tried to calm your mind. “Tell me I’m gonna win.”“I don’t have to.” Bucky chuckled, kissing the corner of your mouth with a smile. “Because you are gonna win.”

You were conscious of his injury so you carefully wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed the light beard that was growing out along his jawline. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He whispered against your lips. “Drive safe.”

Your Hellcat wasn’t meant for racing in the sense like Bucky’s Camaro. It wasn’t fit with a roll cage and the interior hadn’t been gutted out to lighten its tare weight but Bucky made sure the front seats had been fitted with harnessed bucket seats a long time ago. But the soup and nuts of the matter was that your Hellcat was fast and with your skills it was easily a strong contender. 

“Holy shit, it's been awhile since you brought her out.” Steve grinned when he saw you pull up at the 11th hour. “How’s our boy doing?”

You held up your helmet with the camera mounted on the top. “Ask him yourself. You can take Bucky away from the race but you can’t take the race away from Bucky.”

“I wanted to see the race, not his mug.” Bucky joked in your ear and from the indignation of Steve’s scoff could read his best friend's mind. 

“He’s talking about me isn’t he?”

“Maybe.” You winked. “I actually have a favour to ask.”

You hit the mute button on the helmet's microphone so you could talk to Steve and heard Bucky call out after a moment's silence. 

“Sorry, Buck, must have knocked it. I could still hear you.” You assured him as you imagined he began to pace the living room. “Time to get this show on the road.”

Steve walked around the other drivers before making his way back to you, a small nod giving you the go ahead to pull up to the spray painted starting line. 

“Do you still get nervous? I feel like my stomach is going to try to climb out of my throat.” You swallowed as you reached the line and focused on the woman removing her bra to flag the race start.

“Every damn time.” Bucky chuckled, easing some of the worry knotting your insides. “Concentrate, doll, finishing in one piece is what matters.”

“Yeah, about that…” 

You ran out of time as the woman waved her bra three times before letting it loose and you dropped the clutch and floored the gas. The front wheels lifted off the road as you launched forward and for a second all you saw was the reflection of lights glimmering off One World Trade Centre before you fell back down to earth. You gripped the wheel tighter as the suspension bounced and noticed there was a supercar to your left that was inching ahead of you, but the machine was made for drag races not taking corners which was exactly where you were heading.

“90 degree right turn coming up.” Bucky guided seriously. “You’re going into it pretty fast there.”

“Yup.” You confirmed much to his dismay as you pushed further, the last to start breaking heading into it. “I didn’t come here to lose, Barnes.”

You ripped the e-brake back as you turned, kicking the back out and drifting into the corner before anyone else. The others were quick on your heels but you had effectively put the supercar out of the running as it popped out of the corner in last place. 

“It’s been months since we tuned your ride.” Bucky growled as you raced along the straight, jumping red lights as the scream of your engine limited. “Take it down a notch.”

“Can’t do that babe.” You shook your head, his view on the tv screen shaking with the movement. “I didn’t have enough cash for the buy in.”

“Fuck.” Bucky swore as he fisted his hair in his hands. “Right turn then hard left.”

You eased off the accelerator for the back to back turns and your heart skipped a beat as you almost over-corrected coming out of the turns. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Bucky asked as he watched the street fly past in a blurr, feeling like it was him in the driver's seat. “300 yards until you have a long left turn so don’t go in too tight.”

“You wouldn’t have agreed.” You admitted as you flicked your eyes to the GPS and saw the turn he was talking about, one that snaked under the highway. “We need to work on your terminology.”

“I’m not exactly used to being in this position, you’re much better at this job.” 

Headlights flashed in your wing mirrors as the Toyota Supra tried to take you on the straight with his lighter car. 

“Right back at you.” You murmured as you tried to keep your eyes on the road, on your competition and on the ECU diagnostics that had popped up with an alert. 

“Turn!”

Your eyes flashed away from the screen in the centre of the dashboard to see you had reached the left turn. You braked too much in a spike of panic before turning and clenched your fist tighter on the gear stick as you chopped down and tried to chase the Supra that made it past. The next two corners were a dog fight as you edged to close the gap and came neck and neck on the last straight. 

“I’m not losing to a fucking import.” You growled as you turned the nozzle for the NOS and watched the pressure engage. 

“That bottle hasn't been swapped since the roady to Boston.” 

You could practically taste Bucky’s fear, hear the anger at himself for not keeping your car in top shape but his was supposed to be the race car, not yours.

“You worry too much.” You said, stealing one of his favourite phrases. “It’s scary isn’t it, being on that end of the line.”

He grunted in agreement. “Does it get easier?”

“Nope, but I’ll always do it for you.” 

You saw the Supra boost forward and chuckled because your V8 cylinders were about to annihilate his inline 6. You pressed the release for the NOS and felt the increase in horsepower almost immediately, the front wheels threatening to lift off the ground with the surge. 

“You got this, doll.” Bucky all but shouted as he chewed his lip and froze in front of the wide screen tv. “You’ve got this.”

Your long hood inched past the Supra’s and you saw the driver smash his fist against the steering wheel before the finish line appeared not a moment too soon. Your triumphant laugh was echoed by Bucky’s cheers and you spun into a burn out at the end of the street where Steve waited with the other unofficial officiants of the street racing scene. 

“I love you!” You laughed as you tore off the helmet and kissed the camera.

“I love you too, now get your sexy ass home so we can celebrate properly.”

Steve was quick to work his way through the three race cars parked behind you and took the pink slips and keys from the angry losers before any got ideas of making a run for it, which wasn’t unheard of. He was grinning from ear to ear as he brought the winnings over and you knew it would go a long way into paying to repair Bucky’s Camaro as well as some of his legal fees.

“Thanks, Steve. I actually have one last favour to ask.” You said as he engulfed you in a hug.

“Anything for you.”

You were still riding your high as you drove to Bucky’s and parked outside, needing a moment to gather your thoughts and calm down after the rush of endorphins left your hands trembling. The moment only lasted a second before your door was pulled open and Bucky grinned proudly at you. 

“There’s my girl.”

“She’s got a surprise for you too.” You said as you unclipped the harness and stepped out to see three pairs of headlights coming down the street. Their engines purred across the quiet night and Bucky draped his arm over your shoulder as he watched them approach. “I didn’t have cash for the buy in.”

“You said.” He nodded. “So you used your car as collateral.”

“Kind of.” You smirked, seeing the Toyota, a Ferrari and a Camaro as few years older than Bucky’s park at the curb. “It was a race for pink slips.”

His jaw gaped wide as he stared at the cars, his friends climbing out of the drivers seats. “These are all yours?”

You laughed and shook your head. “No, baby, they're ours.”

@dilemmaontwolegs you know I love you but if you do that I might just die of sadness

Hi! Uh, could i request some grief prompts? Like uh, A just lost B? If thats too dark you could just do villain x hero prompts instead fkksjs

It’s not too dark at all! I might do villain x hero prompts further down the line.

Grief Prompts

Prompts

A and B were very close but B was never open or affectionate to A. After they died, A goes through B’s stuff and finds a box of trinkets. The box is full of pictures of A and B, momentoes that A gave B, and other things from their relationship.

After B’s death, everyone is gathered together, shocked with grief. A joins the room, chattering happily about something B did earlier, unsure why everyone else looks so upset.

When B was alive, A and B had casual rituals that they would follow without a fault; A would bring B coffee in the morning and leave it on their bedside table, B would make A a sandwich at lunchtime, A would drop a towel into B’s room at 6 because they know that B always showers at 6:30, and so on. After B dies, A can’t help but unconsciously keep doing the rituals.

After B dies, A has to tell B’s much younger sibling. Unsure how to gently break the news to a kid who doesn’t know much about death, A paints a fanciful image of the afterlife.

Everyone knows that B was writing a novel before they passed. A finds the unfinished story, in the process discovering hundreds of ideas and short stories by B (some of them not-so-subtly about A).

(Building off of 5) A takes it upons themselves to finish B’s story. They pour over their notes, go to B’s favourite brainstorming places, and try to figure out how B would end their novel.

Oneliners

“If I knew that those would be my last words to you, I would’ve said something sweeter”

“You son of a bitch, you promised me we’d grow old together. You promised me!”

“I don’t know for sure if angels exist, but if they do, B is one of them”

“Aren’t you supposed to pour out some drink when someone dies, as a sign of respect?” “At this point, I’ll take any excuse to get hammered”

“If you’re still somehow here . . . can you send a sign? Anything?”

This is the cutest thing ever I’m melting

I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve become obsessed with your blog the last few days!!! Are you able to do a bridgerton!daugter where she is inconsolable and just really upset and nothing/nobody can settle her so they have to get Anthony out of a dinner or a ball maybe and she calms because all she wanted was her papa xx

The maids, Humboldt, and youngest four Bridgerton siblings are all tired as they stay in the room with the crying baby, out of ideas on how to soothe the crying two year old.

"What are we to do?" One of the maids question.

"I vote we go and find Anthony." Eloise states.

"He's at Lady Danbury's ball." Hyacinth states.

"So somebody go get him." Eloise groans. "If it will get his baby to quiet, go retrieve him."

"Are you certain, Miss Bridgerton?" Humboldt asks.

"Positive." Eloise says, but looks around and sees all of their uncertain looks. "Very well. I shall do it. If it gets me away from this dreadful noise."

"May I go with?" Hyacinth asks.

"No, go to bed." Eloise tells her.

Eloise quickly changes out of her nightgown and into one of her dresses. She and her maid exit their house, hurrying over to Lady Danbury's residence. They manage to get in without anybody questioning them.

"Just stay here. I will go find Anthony and get him." Eloise tells her maid who nods.

Eloise takes a deep breath, praying that she doesn't get dragged into conversation. She enters the ballroom, searching around for her eldest brother.

"Eloise!" She hears and groans, turning to the direction the voice came from, only to find her elder sister. "Eloise, what on earth are you doing here? In that simple dress?"

"I am trying to find Anthony. Do you know where he might be?" Eloise asks.

"Why do you need Anthony? Is something wrong?" Daphne asks.

"Yes, his child won't shut up." Eloise growls.

"What?" Daphne asks.

"She won't stop crying. We've tried everything. Do you know where her father is?" Eloise asks again.

"Last I know of he was over by the refreshment table." Daphne says.

"Thank you." Eloise says, making her way through the ballroom. She doesn't find her brother at the refreshment table, having to continue to look around.

"Eloise?" She hears. She turns to find Anthony leaning against a wall, but he stands up when he realizes it is indeed his second younger sister. "What are you doing here? Should you not be at home?"

"Perfect. We need you. You must leave this dreadful place." Eloise says, grabbing his hand and starting to drag him away, but he resists.

"Wait, wait. What's wrong? What is so urgent? Can it not wait until tomorrow?" Anthony asks.

"Your child is causing us all migraines so no, it cannot wait until tomorrow." Eloise says through gritted teeth.

"Y/N?" Anthony feels the protectiveness fill him. "What's wrong? Is she all right? Is she sick?"

"None of us know. She simply won't stop crying." Eloise grumbles, dragging Anthony off.

"Did you try feeding her?"

"Yes."

"Did you try to give her milk?"

"Yes."

"Warm or cold?"

"Both."

"Water?"

"Yep."

"Did she--"

"We have tried everything, Anthony. Nothing is calming the girl down. Now let's make haste."

Eloise dragged Anthony all the way home and Anthony rushed to his daughter's room, able to hear her cries halfway down the stairs.

Anthony walks into her room, finding some of the maids still in there, Hyacinth sitting on the bed and plugging her ears.

"Y/N?" Anthony calls, walking over to the bed. "What's the matter, darling?" He softly asks, picking her up. Anthony holds her, pushing some of her hair back, the strands now wet from her tears.

Once Y/N is able to realize she's in her father's arms, her cries almost immediately go quiet. Y/N feels safety and comfort and lays her head on Anthony's shoulder, lightly wrapping her arms around his neck. Anthony rests his head against hers, softly rubbing her back.

"That is all she needed? Is you?" Eloise questions. "You're never going to a ball again." She states, leaving.

"I've got it from here. You can all go now." Anthony instructs the maids. They all curtsy before filing out. "Hyacinth, go to bed." He tells his youngest sister who listens.

"Am I all you wanted, dear?" Anthony asks his daughter who nods, tightening her hold on him.

"Stay wit' papa." Y/N sleepily mumbles.

"Very well then." Anthony whispers, rocking her to sleep.