Blame Me (Part 6) - Bucky Barnes

Valentine’s Day is near, you know

Kiss - Chris Evans

Can you do a chris/reader one where they act in a marvel movie opposite each other and they like each other ALOT and then win the mtv award for the best kiss for the movie and the fans and cast asks them to kiss on the spot & they do &later they go on a date. Lots of fluff pls. If you can, smut too!! Love your work btw!

N/A: Ok, guys, I made up a character for (Y/N) because I just couldn’t get any other character and modifies it to use here… And once again I have to warn you that I’m not good with smut… But I hope you enjoy it.

(Masterlist)

You never dreamed that one day you would get such an important role, especially such an important role right in a Marvel movie. But there you were in the big screen wearing combat boots and a clothing style that you would never use on a daily basis. Your character was a powerful villain with huge powers of telepathy and telekinesis, becoming the biggest nightmare of  the Avengers. You made your own fight scenes and most of the scenes that required great heights also, using your skills of Kung Fu you felt really powerful on the movie screens. Then the scream of the crowd roused you from your thoughts, you automatically smiled and looked at huge event screen, facing one of the trailer’s scene.

“Come on, Rogers. I don’t have all day for this or reasons for accepting this invitation.” you saw yourself with long and dark purple hair, passing one hand on the chest of your screen partner, Chris Evans, as you smiled dangerously.

“Nyx, you saw the truth with your own eyes, you can redeem yourself.” the Captain held your hand, entwining your fingers, you stood for a moment shaken because you felt a strong connection with the man after being saved by him. “I can help you, doll.”

“No, you can’t.” you took your free hand to his face, pulling him to lean toward you and then kissed his lips tenderly, but soon the kiss changed with Steve wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him, one hand ended up in your hair holding tight as the kiss became more aggressive and hungry. You moaned against his lips before suddenly open your eyes startled and then you let go of him using your powers, giving apprehensive steps back without looking away from him. “This is a goodbye, Rogers.”

You laughed sheepishly as you listened to the crowd shouting excitedly, your eyes going towards your co-workers, the famous avengers, all participating in the kiss celebration and making you blush and Chris smile wildly. You didn’t imagine that a simple kiss would have so much impact to the point of competing for the MTV Awards. So you took a few seconds to believe that you and Chris had won the best kiss award, and Chris had to literally pull you to the stage while you giggled as you tried to follow in his footsteps with your high heels. But when you two came close to the microphone, you slapped his hand to loosen yours and straightened your clothes, making a serious expression as you watched the crowd agitated around you.

“Alright! Alright! I thought my prize had been the kiss, but I was mistaken. Really, thank you for choosing us… Right, Nyx?“ Chris began his speech, entering into his character and making everyone go crazy, he laughed while watching your nervous gaze and shrugged, laughing even more when you started listening to the crowd and your fellow co-workers shout ‘kiss her’.

“Well, thank you for the award and…” you pulled the microphone to stay on your height and started to speak with your character Nyx’s voice, raising an eyebrow as you pointed your index finger in denial towards your group “Not a chance, that kiss was the goodbye one-”

Suddenly you were interruptedbeing pulled by Chris, who without notice stuck his lips on yours in a passionate and nothing cinematic kiss. You promptly wrapped his neck with your arms as Chris pulled you more against him by the waist, gently turning your body to tilt you down imitating those old kissing scenes and then pick you up in his arms, ending the kiss because both of you needed air. You smiled to each other ignoring the jubilant shouts of everybody, Chris turned his attention back to the microphone.

“Well, I think I’ll take this doll on a date… Maybe she accepts to be an Avenger later.” he said laughing before turning away and leaving the stage with you still in his arms.

A few days had passed and you hadn’t recovered from the kiss that Chris had given you, always smiling sheepishly when you reminded it, you were feeling in the clouds. It had been a long time since the Avengers movie was in theaters, with an excellent response from the public, then you were looking at some movie proposals to work. You were happy to be growing as an actress, but you were really happy when your phone vibrated and you saw who sent you a message.

‘Are you at home?’

‘Yes, Christopher Evans.’

‘You forgot my middle name Robert.’

You chuckled while reading his answer, imagining the kinds of expressions that he’d have done if he was answering you face to face. You felt your heart warm, remembering the days of recording that you two spent a long time talking and laughing during behind the scenes. You couldn’t deny that you had a crush on Chris Evans. He was simply one of the finest men, not by his appearance - something that others always repaired first, but by his wonderful personality. You loved his smile, the way he talked and cared about everyone around him. Dammit, you loved him. 

Leaving aside the papers on the coffee table, you rose from the couch and stretched, after reading for hours you were tired. You picked up the phone again to reply Chris’s message  when you suddenly heard a knock on your door. You went to the door distractedly while typing the message, opening the same as you raised your index finger of your free hand to ask the person to wait.

“Well, I’m looking kind of stupid standing at your door with a bouquet, you know.” you heard Chris’ amused voice, making you stop what you were doing and face him with flushed cheeks.

“I-I was answering you.” you scowled, but then smiled seeing him smiling and noticing how gorgeous he was. Chris handed you the bouquet of pink tulips and you smiled brightly accepting it. “Please come in, Mr. Christopher Robert Evans.”

“I’d love to come in and accept a cup of coffee, but I was thinking about our date.” he said with a shrug, putting his hands in his jeans pockets and slightly raising his eyebrows waiting for your answer.

“Our date? Oh, I need to change clothes…” you blushed again, nervous because you’ve forgotten the date but wondering if you really had agreed to something.

“You’re beautiful like this and your perfume’s delicious, just put your shoes and is perfect.” Chris smiled passing you confidence, looking at your navy blue dress and bare feet, he ended up biting his lower lip.

“Hm… Okay, wait a minute.”

You left the door open and ran to your room, trying to straighten up little but nothing that indicated you were anxious, pulled on one of your allstar and then picking up your bag you returned to where Chris was waiting for you. You left your building in silence, staring each other once or twice to exchange shy smiles. After a quick trip in Chris’ car, you found yourself at his house. Okay, you were alright, you were calm and at his house. And he said it was a date? You took a deep breath. You were so far from calm.

“Hey, I’m sorry for bringing you here… But I thought it would be less stressful and we could talk without worrying about paparazzi or something.“ Chris scratched his neck with a closed smile, as if reading your mind.

“It’s all right, Chris. I think you made the best choice.” you smiled more relaxed, leaving your purse on the coffee table and sitting on the couch he had indicated.

“So, what do you like to eat? Would you like a glass of water? Soda? Beer? Wine? Vodka?” he asked quickly, indicating the kitchen and walking up to half the hall but then coming back to hear your answer, making you raise an eyebrow and giggle. “What?”

“You’re nervous too or is it just me?" you got up from the couch, slowly walking up to him, taking the opportunity to take a deep breath and calm down first, grinning widely when you got close enough to stroke his beard. "I think we need to relax, because we go out together several times while shooting.”

“No, it’s different now.“ he shook his head and smiled shyly, taking his hand to yours that stroked his beard "And you’re feeling too, I can see in your eyes.”

You both were there in silence staring at each other, the light of the living room’s window slightly illuminating the hall and giving a calm air. But you could feel your heart beat faster and faster, every thought your mind formed and claimed about what you felt for that man standing there in front of you. And then something hit you in full, the realization that you had been through multiple steps without notice. The time he helped you cure your flu, when you took care of him while he had food poisoning, when emerged bad rumors about you, when he got injured during filming, the days off that you spent together eating and watching Disney movies or then going out with the rest of the team to drink… You grinned and blushed slightly when you noticed that Chris was bitting his lower lip to contain his own smile.

“Can… Can I kiss you?” he whispered, his eyes alternating to face your lips and your eyes, without relying on your ability to say something smart at the moment, you just nodded slightly.

When you tried to take your hand from his face, he kept his hand on yours indicating to continue there and then grabbed your hips with both hands before sliding them over your back, keeping one in the middle of your back and the other in your neck. Chris stared at you for a moment with a loving smile before leaning to seal your lips in a slow and passionate kiss, but it didn’t take long to your back collide against the wall and have his body glued to yours. Chris’ lips moved away from yours, sliding down your neck with wet kisses and weak bites, tearing a heavy sigh from you and making you slightly pull his hair. You felt one of his hands wander around the side of your body to one of your thighs to then squeeze tightly and you didn’t think twice about picking up impulse to wrap your legs around his waist.

“Babe… I think it’s better we go slow.“ Chris whispered hoarsely into your ear, causing you chills and you just mumbled a little whimper. You heard Chris try to contain a grunt and felt him tighten against you, but then he took a deep breath and chuckled. "Sorry, little one, but I need to talk with you.”

“W-what do you mean?” you opened your eyes a little confused, blushing slightly as he put you on the floor and helped you straighten your dress, smiling when he noticed your flushed cheeks.

“I mean that, this here, us” he indicated with his hand both of you and smiled again, then using his hand to put a lock of hair behind your ear. Chris looked a little anxious, smiling with closed lips and clasping his eyebrows slightly before speaking again. “It’s more than a kiss and make out session for me. Damn, I had planned this in another way… But… Ugh, babe, you want to go out with me? Be my girlfriend? Having to put up with my jokes?”

“Chris, you really are the knight on the white horse.“ you hugged him tight around his waist, burying your face in his chest. Chris promptly hugged you back and kissed the top of your head.

“Huh? Wait, are you-”

“Of course I want to, silly! If you stop to think about it, I’ve done it for some time." You shrugged, raising your face to look at him with a smile from ear to ear and slightly flushed checks, which seemed impossible for you to control near him.

“Oh man, I’m the luckiest person in the world!” he laughed aloud, holding you tightly and lifting you off the ground before returning to kiss your lips. Oh, no, you were the luckiest person in the world.

Of Oblivious Minds (4)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst

a/n: Thank you for reading and sorry for the wait!! I hope you enjoy :) Let me know what you think ❤️

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

~~

You were leaving today, and suddenly—with your bags at your feet and the air around you filled with stagnant silence—a few days seemed so juvenile. So… inconsequential in the grand scheme. 

You would leave, and when you returned everything would be the same. Azriel would still love another and you would still be left with the bleak realization that you had spent the last few centuries denying a love that you knew to be fruitless. 

Nothing would change if you were to be gone only a few measly days. 

But if you were to be gone a month? A year, even? 

Much of your work for Rhysand could be done from afar, especially with the library in Day Court. Helion wouldn’t mind; he’d asked you to consider an extended stay in the past. And maybe there could even be something there, something to take your mind off of your true home. 

The home that wasn’t Velaris. 

You saw him every time you closed your eyes. His rare smiles, his even rarer laughs; you saw the way his watchful eyes skated across every room you entered and reminisced on each twitch of his hands—the way you could feel it against your fingers when you grabbed for him in the busy streets of Velaris. 

Azriel was inescapable, even when you battled against your vision and attempted to drift to sleep. 

He was everywhere, everything. 

But he wouldn’t be in Day Court, and although that wouldn't stop your thoughts, it would be something. It would be distance. 

With a flick of your wrist, you sent your bags away to Day Court and heaved in an uncomfortably large breath. You knew he would do little to deny you, but you still needed to ask Rhys. He was your High Lord and employer, above all your friend, and you knew it would take a little persuading. 

Maybe tears. Yes, tears were very moving and equally as conjurable at the moment.

It only took one step before the knock on your door left you still. Your shoes made a dent in the carpet and you could hear him breathing on the other side of the ornately carved wood. You could always tell when it was Azriel. 

You shifted your weight from one knee to the next, gripping your skirts at the thigh. Azriel knocked again, this time in a faster pattern—more rushed. 

You bit into your lip. You hadn’t planned to see him again, not before you left. You would deal with the repercussions of such an act later on, but not now. Not when you had finally gotten your emotions under control for long enough to have a conversation with Rhys. 

It made sense to you now why you had repressed this for so long. 

The sound of your voice was startling. “Come in.” 

The door creaked, but the sound was overpowered by Azriel’s boot clicking against shining marble. The shadowsinger entered before his shadows, but the wisps followed close behind, quickly abandoning their master in favor of darting toward you. They twisted up your legs and elbows, rolling into your hair and dancing along your fingertips. 

Something like fear, love, crushing defeat tugged and tugged at your chest. 

“Azriel,” you greeted, aiming for a surprised tone and failing. “Have you come to see me off?” 

The spymaster didn’t smile. “Rhys sent me. He said you might have a message for him.” 

That cauldron-damned meddler. Of course he somehow knew about your reservations. You doubted he knew exactly what you had to say, but you had been dragging your feet all morning and were currently about an hour late for your own departure. 

And of course he had sent Azriel of all people. 

“Oh! Well, I suppose I could go and—” 

“Why is half of your vanity gone?” 

You blinked, startled by the words. If Azriel was anything, he was polite and never one to cut someone off. You went to search Azriel’s expression but found him zeroed in on the table pushed into the corner of your room. 

“What?” It was all you could think to formulate. 

But Azriel was quick to respond. “Almost all of your things are gone. Your perfumes and the pots of cream you keep on the side. You’ve only left the items you don’t use anymore.” 

“How do you know—” you cut yourself off this time, ignoring the glaring question that tried to blind you. “Azriel, I’m going away… to Day Court. You know this.”

But Azriel only shook his head, stalking over to the table and yanking the drawer open so harshly it shook the mirror. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he went to your closet, throwing open the door, shoulders rising and falling with more effort. 

“Azriel—” 

“You’ve packed too much.” He turned to you, some of his shadows returning to wind around his chest. “You’ve taken most of your clothes.” 

“You know I always overpack,” you laughed, but the laugh sounded fake, painful. 

You fought the urge to cower under Azriel’s scrutinizing gaze. It was as if he was on fire, as if he was aflame and filled with something that had been pent up for far too long. If someone, anyone, were to look inside of you, they would see the same thing. 

Which is why you needed to get far, far away from this situation. Away from him.

But the longer you looked back at him—the longer you tried to slap that easygoing smile on your face—the longer he stared back with the same steady intensity. 

“Is something the matter?” you tried. 

Azriel’s hand twitched. 

That feeling crept along the edges of your ribs once again. 

“Is something the matter?” he parroted, jaw so impossibly tight the words came out pinched. 

You finally looked away, playing with your fingers. “Yes?” 

He started laughing. But it wasn’t the kind of laugh that made you feel light. It didn’t fill you with pride for eliciting such a sound from him, nor did it make you want to laugh in return. It made you feel dark; as Azriel laughed, you wanted to heave the sound back within the depths it flowed from. 

“There are several things that are the matter, y/n, but I’d say the most pressing is that you have been avoiding me for weeks. That every moment I’ve tried to spend with you has been promptly evaded and now you’re leaving and you had no intention of saying goodbye.” 

“I was going to—” 

“Please,” he pleaded, eyes soft yet so achingly desperate. “Don’t lie to me. Not right now.” 

The indent in the carpet was becoming permanent; you couldn’t seem to move. 

“I’ve been… I’ve been going through a hard time. Leaving seemed like it was the best for me. Just for a little while. Just until I could sort a few things out.” 

“For how long?” he asked, voice cracking along the precipice of the last word. 

You paused then, staring hard into his eyes. “A while.”

A shaky breath left the shadowsinger, his chest reflecting the sound. He ran a hand into his hair and tugged at the roots, an action you hadn’t seen him do in years. A sickening sort of pity ran through you—a sort of responsibility. 

Because Azriel was your friend, and he was going through something, too. You had no idea if his mate reciprocated his feelings. You found it hard to believe that anyone wouldn’t love Azriel, but the conversation you’d overheard last week gave nothing away. 

Maybe Azriel hadn’t told her yet because she didn’t love him. And maybe you were being a bad friend by not being there for him. 

Tossing your hurt to the side, you took a step forward. Azriel watched the movement, eyes flickering behind you to catch the previous imprint of your feet on the carpet. 

“I’m sorry,” you began, resolute. “I’m sorry that you felt you couldn’t tell me. And that you’ve been… having a hard time. I know I’m not leaving at the most opportune time, but you can write to me and I can help you.” 

Some of the brokenness on Azriel’s face morphed into confusion. “Help me?” 

“With your mate.” 

And it was as if Azriel had been shot. He physically recoiled, his right foot coming down to catch him as he fixed his imbalance. 

“I know you wanted to keep it private, but I overheard. Azriel—” You swallowed. Hard. “—It’s so wonderful that you’ve found your mate.” 

Something was set in motion, and Azriel was shaking his head. His gaze was fixed on you and his eyebrows were pushed together in a painful expression and he just kept shaking his head as your chest caved and it became hard to breathe. Something pulled from within and it felt like your heart was unraveling. 

Couldn’t he see how hard this was? How much it took from you just to acknowledge that he was destined for someone else? 

The shadowsinger seemed unaware of your inner turmoil, instead taking long steps across the room until he reached you. He leaned down, brought his hands up to your face, and he broke another piece of you as his forehead touched yours. 

He was whispering something, words so low even your fae ears couldn’t catch them, but you knew they were fast. Fast and incoherent and you weren’t even able to find their meaning in his expression because his eyes were squeezed so tightly. 

“Please, just notice. See it, angel, it’s there.” 

Your jaw quivered. He was so close to you. The few words you were able to make out were confusing. 

“My oblivious girl. Please.” 

“Azriel—” 

When he opened his eyes, the world fell off its axis. The fear in your chest—the feeling that had been unraveling you and leaving you weak—alighted. It pulled and pulled but this time it didn’t hurt. It no longer left splinters embedded in your ribs or took the breath from your lungs. 

As you looked up at Azriel, it was only soothing and warm and—

Mate. Azriel was your mate. 

You pushed back from him, stumbling and catching on the rug as you went toppling down to the floor. There was no pain from the fall; a numbness overtook your body where the warmth once flowed. 

“You’re my—Azriel, you—” 

There were no endings to the sentences you began. Azriel tried reaching a hand down, but when you wouldn’t take it he joined you on the floor. He sat with you between his legs, bringing you forward until your knees curled against his chest. And then he wrapped you in his arms and then his wings, taking calming breaths as yours ran rampant. 

“I am your mate,” he finished for you, so much more soothing than you had ever heard him speak.

“But Elain,” you gasped out, finding solace against his chest. You leaned your forehead against him and relished in the heat. 

“What of Elain?” Azriel asked, bringing a hand up against the back of your head. 

“You love Elain.” 

“I do not love Elain.” 

“And Mor?” 

“I do not love Mor, either.” 

You nodded against him. This would take longer for you to come to terms with later, but only simple answers were getting through to you now. And the bond—the bond—sang as you touched Azriel. The bond didn’t care if you were confused or hurt or disbelieving.

Your mind swam as a new influx of emotions filled you, but there was a distinction to them and you knew they weren’t your own. At first, it was hard to pick through them all; there were so many that they all blended together. There was an obvious tender love, but also a crippling fear that mingled with a darkness you couldn’t place. There was adoration and hopefulness and a sense of peace that lay at the bottom of all else. 

But you could tell this peace was new. It wasn’t as deeply ingrained as the others. 

Azriel leaned back, craning his neck down to catch your gaze. “Do you feel that?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued. “Those feelings have always belonged to you. All of them. I know there is not a lot of proof of that, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for that, but they have always belonged to you.” 

“Have you always felt mine?” you asked, voice sounding unused. 

“Since I’ve felt the bond,” he nodded. 

“How long have you…” 

Azriel sighed, but it wasn’t out of irritation. The bond told you as much. “Months.” 

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “Then why did you never—” 

Azriel shushed you as your voice cracked. He ran both hands behind your head and held you steady as his lips pressed to your forehead. 

“I didn’t want to lose you.” 

Throat still closed, words still choked, you replied, “That is idiotic.” 

This time, when Azriel laughed, you felt that pride spark up in your chest. “I know, angel. Gods, do I know that.” 

There was a brief pause, a respite to the revelations and emotions in the room. You counted your breaths as you pressed against Azriel, and he ran his hands up and down the length of your spine, chaste kisses pressed to your head as the minutes ticked by. 

“Don’t leave.” Azriel broke the silence. “Stay. Please.” 

When you didn’t answer, he kept talking. 

“You don’t have to love me. I know that is a lot to ask and there are still so many questions left unanswered. But, y/n, I have loved you for a long, long time. I couldn’t bear it if you left. It has been difficult to even function this past week with you avoiding me. If you were to leave—”

“I only avoided you because I thought it wasn’t me,” you interrupted, pulling back once again to meet his gaze. “I thought you didn’t love me and I couldn’t stand it, so I wanted to leave.”

A grim line set into Azriel’s mouth. The desperation returned to his eyes. “We have wasted so much time.” 

“I wouldn’t say wasted. Not when you were here. Not when I was still with you.” 

“Angel.” The word came out like a plea, and then his lips were on yours. His hands pressed you closer and his mouth was hot against yours and it was everything you’d spent three centuries ignoring. You loved him, gods did you love him, and in this kiss was every proof that he loved you. 

You tangled your fingers in his hair, musing the already displaced strands. His wings quivered as you kissed him more, the action sending little pools of light into the bubble he had created. They felt warm against your eyelids, and when you pulled away to see the cause, Azriel moved his attention to your jaw, your cheek, your neck. 

“You are my mate,” he affirmed against your skin, low and gravelly. “Mine.” 

You pulled his head away, leaning your forehead against his own. “And you are mine.” 

“I love you,” he said. 

And you couldn’t say it back, not yet. Azriel seemed unperturbed by this and accepted your small smile as a reply, reciprocating it tenfold. His smile shone in the pockets of light created by his wings and his eyes no longer looked sad. It made you want to say it back.

When that guilt flooded you and your mouth parted, there was a tug at the bond instead. You gasped at the feeling, blinking up at Azriel with owlish eyes. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he admitted, smile softening as he ran scarred fingers along your cheeks. “Every time I felt your doubt or fear. I figured I could startle it out of you.” 

You rubbed at your chest. “It feels warm. And…” You couldn’t find the words.

“It feels good, angel. This bond was cold and it hurt, but it—it feels good. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” 

A breathy, awestruck laugh escaped you. “You know, I still have to go to Day for the weekend. It’s court-appointed.” 

Azriel groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Then I will come with you,” he grumbled, words muffled against your skin. 

“You cannot. But you can wait for me to return and I will come right back here.”

Real

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky writes a list on how not to lose you and you find it in the back pocket of his jeans. Requested by anonymous, a fic based on the song Tell Her You Love Her by Echosmith.

Words: 1.6k+

Warnings: Nightmare (just one, brief). It’s all fluff here, folks!

A/N: I wrote this on my iPad on iNotes lololol. Thank you thank you thank you to my bae @buckyywiththegoodhair for helping me out when I was stuck. Without you, this fic wouldn’t have happened. Hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what you think :):):)

Bucky had a hard time readjusting when Steve brought him to the tower merely 2 years after he had chosen to go back under, despite being constantly reassured that the only reason Steve had brought him back was because he was confident in new technology that could help reset Bucky’s mind. And it had done the job well. Simple words could no longer trigger the super soldier. But there was nothing they could do for his memories. Those would stay for as long as they wanted. He was plagued by nightmares, but he eventually found solace. In you.

It was an accident, really, how it all started. You were just heading down to the gym on a restless night when you heard grunts and pleas coming from behind his door. At the time, he was still adjusting to being around so many new people. He would mostly hang out with Steve, but when Steve wasn’t around he kept to himself. Never being outright rude or impolite, just quiet. So when you heard him struggling on your way to the gym, you made a split second decision to open the door, the urgency of his pleas leaving no time for you to second guess what you were about to do. When you got to his bedroom, you didn’t even bother knocking, you just opened the door and ran to him. His eyes were shut tight, sweat beading on his forehead, his arms gripping the sheets as his whole body thrashed against the mattress. You were careful but urgent in your attempts to wake him up, his screams of pain growing too much for you to bear. So you slowly placed a hand on his forehead and whispered his name. His face scrunched up in confusion, little lines forming between his eyebrows, but his eyes stayed shut and his breathing was still erratic. So you repeated his name over and over again, gradually raising your voice, until his body relaxed and his eyes finally fluttered open. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion before a flicker of recognition flitted across his eyes and he finally registered who was sitting on the bed next to him. You slowly lifted your palm from his forehead and started running your fingers through his damp hair. You stayed like that, gazes never breaking, until his breathing completely calmed. “You okay?” You kept your voice low so as not to frighten him. He nodded slowly and your lips lifted into a gentle smile before you got up from where you were perched on the bed and started making your way to his bedroom door. Before you could leave his room though, he called out your name. Turning around, your eyes met his once more, “Yeah?” A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. A real smile though, not the forced polite ones he’d given everyone on the team when he first arrived. “Thank you, [Y/N]”

After that night you two slowly grew more comfortable around each other until eventually he started confiding in you. About the things he’d done, the nightmares that plagued him, his fears. And when he finally did get more comfortable with your presence, a side of him came out that you could only assume was akin to what he was like in the 40’s. Playful, funny and charming. Somewhere along the line, you had completely fallen. He had been through so much and yet he had come out of it the kindest, most considerate man you’d ever known. In a new world, where the people were different and the customs had changed drastically, he had adjusted so well. His presence became a constant in your life and besides Nat, he was your best friend. So you tried your best to tamp it down, hoping it was just a passing thing. It made sense you would develop a little crush right? He was built like an Adonis after all, you weren’t immune to that. It didn’t help your case that you would sometimes catch him looking at you with longing in his eyes. He never made a move though. You suspected he was afraid of losing your friendship in the case you didn’t want him like he wanted you. So one day, when you two were watching a movie in his room, his arm draped across your shoulders, you decided to throw caution to the wind and finally take what you had wanted for so long. So you grabbed the remote and pressed pause. He looked at you with a playful smile and lifted an eyebrow, “Bathroom again?” He was poking fun at your ridiculously tiny bladder. You shook your head at him, a smirk on your lips. “Nope. Just tired of waiting.” His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Waiting for what?” “For you to make a move.” And then you were crashing your lips onto his. He reacted almost instantly despite his initial shock. And when he really registered what was happening, his hands came up to cup your face, tilting your head and taking control of the kiss. His lips were firm and soft against yours and it was everything you had wanted for so long and so much more. His tongue ran across your bottom lip, asking for permission that you quickly granted him. He explored your mouth fervently and you sighed at the feel of him, your hands flying to the front of his shirt. When the burning in your lungs got too uncomfortable, you parted for air, your eyes fluttering open and meeting his slightly darkened ones. He grinned. “I’m really glad you did that.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him. “Well someone has to have balls in this relationship.” He threw his head back laughing wholeheartedly and your heart danced at the sound. You joined him, overcome with joy.

7 months later, you were doing his laundry when you found a crumpled up note in the back pocket of his pants. Bucky had recently moved into the same living quarters as you. It wasn’t something you guys had talked about, it just happened. He was finding it harder and harder to sleep alone in his room when he knew what it felt like to fall asleep holding onto you. Besides, he was your boyfriend and you guys weren’t trying to hide it from the team any longer. You were never good at that anyway, anyone with eyes could tell. Unfolding the note, you found it was a list. Scrawled in his messy handwriting, it read:

1. Treat her better, make sure to see it through 2 Don’t be just everything she wants, be everything she needs 3. Don’t run away when you get tired 4. When she says she needs you, tell her you need her too 5. Tell her she’s lovely 6. Always tell her the truth 7. When she says she loves you, tell her you love her too

You scrunched up your nose at the cheesiness, but found yourself smiling anyway. The words sounded familiar to you, you were pretty sure they were lyrics to a popular song right now, you just didn’t know which one. “Buck!” You yelled over the sound of the tv program he was watching in the living room. He came strolling in, “Need some he-” his words cut off when he saw what you were holding in your hands. You smiled. “I’m just curious”, you assured him. He shuffled on his feet and put his hands in his pockets, something you only every saw him do when he was nervous or uncomfortable. “I-I was just getting groceries last week when I heard this song. Sam gave me a notepad with his grocery list on it, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to write them down, seemed like good advice.” You slowly approached him. “What for?”, you asked quietly, even though you already had an idea. He sighed. “I’ve never been a serious relationship person, not even back then. And now dating’s even more crazy. Tinder? How is that a thing?” You chuckled. Trying to find your significant other purely by looks and a short bio did seem a little unconventional, even to you, a millennial. “And I don’t want to mess this up, [Y/N]. It’s too good, you’re too good”, he continued, his gaze dropping to his feet. You cupped his face and forced him to look back at you. You smiled before speaking. “You’re not going to mess this up. You’re the best man I know, don’t underestimate yourself. We’ve been doing fine so far, don’t you think? Actually, in my most humble opinion, we’ve been doing amazing. I love you so much. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, and if you’ll have me, I’ll spend the rest of my days proving it to you until you believe it.” His face split into the biggest grin you’d ever seen and he let out a breathless chuckle. “I love you, I love you so much. I’m not sure you’re even real sometimes.” You beamed at him and pressed your lips against his, capturing them in a toe curling kiss. When you pulled back, you smiled at him. “Does that feel real to you?” He nodded vigorously. “It’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt,” he whispered, a smile blooming on his beautiful face. You ran your thumb over his cheek and grinned. “Good.”

TAGGING: @buckyywiththegoodhair @avengerofyourheart @bovaria @imaginingbucky @yourplumbucky

Please Don't Do It || Steve Rogers

Summary: It was the end, you couldn’t take it anymore, you decided to end your life. Until a certain handsome 97 year old finds you and tries to change your mind…

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Suicide, Depression, Reader Near-Death If you’re depressed or suicidal then, please please please ask for help. Ending your life is not worth it. You can talk to me ANYTIME, I don’t bite.

*Requests are open*

 •

 •

 •  

You were alone in your bedroom, laying on the bed as tears were rolling down your cheeks. You’ve been holding it in all day. Seeing all those people smiling an happily living made you want to die. You felt like you were drowning, expect you could see everyone else around you breathe. That’s what depression felt like.

That was it for you. No one understood your pain. No one wants to help. No one.

You made your way to the bathroom, making sure to stop by the mirror, wanting to take one last look at yourself. You hated what you became, you used to be such a happy person, but now it was too late. That joy and desire to live you used to carry has been robbed from you. But then Steve came, and for a while, everything seemed to be better… but it didn’t last, unfortunatly. Not wanting him to abandon you, you never told your lover about your depression. You felt like you were a burden to him, and expressing to him how you felt would just add more weight on his shoulder. You didn’t feel like you mattered.

But what you didn’t know, is none of that was true, you did matter. You did have people who cared about you, you just needed to be brave enough to ask for help, because you deserved someone to be there for you, and help you get through those difficulties. But it didn’t really matter anymore now, did it?

Sighing for what would maybe be the last time, you opened the cap of the bottle, pourring a part of its content in your hand.

Ready to swallow the pills, you shakingly brought the pills close to your mouth when you heard a familiar voice shout.

“Don’t do it, please don’t do it (Y/N) .” No, you told yourself, what is he doing doing here?

“Baby, please don’t do it. I can’t lose you too. Please just put those pills down, love.” He gently whispered.

“You don’t get it Steve, you just don’t. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep putting a fake smile on my face and pretend I’m okay when I’m not. I can’t live with those people who pretend to be my friends while they actually hate me. This world is cruel and I can’t live in it anymore. You can’t understand my pain, no one can Steven. You’re better off without me, you’ll find someone better, there’s so many pretty girls out there who would kill to be with you. Please just let me die Steve.”

You whispered the last sentence, not finding enough strengh to use your voice. Steve was fighting back his own tears, blaming himself for not noticing sooner, all the signs were there, if only he just paid more attention to you.

“(Y/N) Look at me.” At first you ignored him, feeling too ashamed to face him. “Baby, hey, look at me. You don’t have to pretend anymore, okay? From now on, I want you to be honest with me. I want to help you fight this, I want to help you. Do you know why? Because I love you, because you’re the only one I want, those other girls mean nothing to me. (Y/N) please, just let me spend the rest of my life showing you how important you are to me.”

As he went on with his speech, he slowly took the pills from your hands, and hid them in his pockets, you didn’t take any actions to try to stop him. You were just exhausted, all you wanted was someone to hold you and tell you everything would be okay.

Steve wrapped his arms around your fragile body. He then tightened his grip around you, never wanting to witness an event like this ever again.

“Please don’t let me go…” You desperately asked as you wrapped your arms around his neck, starting to sob once again.

He kissed your hair and your forehead multiple times as you both sat down on the floor.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere, baby. Everything will be okay.  We’ll get through this together love, we’ll get trough this together.”

You weren’t alone anymore, everything was finally going to get better.

Watch Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 687 words

Warnings: Absolutely none. This is all fluff and cuteness. 

Request: Bucky sees the reader one day and follows the reader but keeps his distance and is to nervous to approach the reader but you notice and introduce yourself. Anonymous _______________________________________________________________________

You can feel his eyes like daggers in your back, but you don’t think he means harm. He’s been watching you clear tables all afternoon and you’ve dropped things several times throughout the day, because his stare makes you nervous. Every time you look his way he quickly looks at something else, but you’re confident that he is indeed looking at you. 

“How can I help?” you ask another customer but your mind is somewhere else; what would happen if you introduced yourself? You take down the order while you ponder the question. The worst thing that could happen is that he denies everything and you scare him off. 

“Mary, can I leave a bit earlier today?” you ask your boss wanting to talk to the man before he disappears.

“I don’t see why not. You take the finished orders out and you’re free to go,” Mary smiles. You thank her and hurry out with the last dishes before heading out back to change into your regular clothes. 

“Here goes nothing,” you mumble to yourself before heading outside. But when you get outside you notice that the man is gone. As if he was never there to begin with. 

“What the hell?” you ask yourself looking around. He couldn’t have just disappeared. He was there just a minute ago and the streets are too crowded for him to make a quick exit. You sigh as you begin to walk home. It’s a 30-minute walk and after 15 minutes of walking you feel his glare again. You turn around and notice him behind you. It’s starting to creep you out because he seems to want something from you. Why else would he be following you? Deciding to catch him in the act you turn around a corner and wait for him to follow. It doesn’t take long before you’re suddenly face to face with him. 

“Hi,” you breathe a little nervous. It’s starting to down upon you what you’re actually doing. He could be a stalker or something worse. 

“Hi,” he says a bit wondrous. It’s only now you notice that there’s something different about his arm. Is it silver? 

“I’m Y/N,” you say wanting to tread carefully. 

“That’s a pretty name,” he says and you wait a moment, but he doesn’t say more. He doesn’t introduce himself and you can’t help but wonder who he is. 

“Thank you,” you say blushing a little, “what’s your name?” 

“Bucky. I mean that’s just my nickname. I-My name is James Buchanan Barnes,” the tall man replies. You can’t help but laugh a little. 

“I like Bucky.” It’s quiet for a while. “Why have you been following me?”

“I just thought you were really beautiful. You are really beautiful,” he says stammering a little. You can’t help but find it adorable how shy he is. With his enormous arms and his tough exterior you’re surprised to learn that he’s practically a teddy bear at heart. 

“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself,” you reply feeling your cheeks burning. Both of you stand there in awkward silence waiting for the other to say something. 

“Well, are you going to ask me out or not?” you ask feeling a little bold. You’ve clearly taken Bucky by surprise with sudden outburst. But he quickly recovers and smiles. 

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” he asks. 

“I don’t drink coffee,” you say deciding to tease him a little. You need to get him back for staring at you all day. He looks like a lost puppy because coffee is apparently the only idea he has. 

“I’m just joking. I’d love a cup of coffee,” you say laughing a little. He starts laughing himself as he realises your comment was meant as a tease. 

“Come on,” you say grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. You’re surprised at how bold you’re acting, but Bucky seems to give you confidence. And it doesn’t take you long to find a coffeehouse. Once inside and seated you can finally have a proper conversation with the gorgeous man in front of you. 

“Tell me about yourself.”

‘’I Don’t care’’

A/N: Just a silly idea that popped into my head, sorry this is crap I just had to get it off my mind.. I have a thing for bickering Bucky. Please note that english is not my first language so there might be grammar mistakes Pairings: Bucky X Reader Prompt: Your reckless side can drive Bucky mad sometimes but he also kind of enjoyed it..  Warnings: injuries? violence?  Word count: 2164

Your heart was beating hard against your chest, adrenaline rushing through your body and you tried to be as quiet as you could while making sure that no enemies were in sight. ‘’All clear’’ you said over your earpiece and you lowered you gun slightly, feeling a little bit of relief. You instructions had been clear, stay together and clear the area, but you had an instinct that there was more to gain from this mission than was originally planned. 

You glanced over at Bucky before taking a deep breath as you pondered over the decision you were about to make. ‘’We should get going Y/N’’ Bucky said, gesturing down the hallway behind him ‘’there’s nothing down here’’ he gave you a small smile. 

Keep reading

Broken Heart- A Peter Parker Imagine

Anonymous Requested: Can you write one where Peter comes to YN’s really hurt and she has to patch him up and make sure he’s safe and no in anymore pain, a few weeks after he tells her he’s Spider-Man and he tries to break up with her but she’s like, No im kinda in love with you, and maybe they end up sleeping together or something? (Doesn’t have to be sexual- preferably not lol)

Broken Heart

A rapid knock at your window awoke you from your slumber. You were so close with Peter that you could tell the difference between his knocks based off of his moods. His usual knock was very playful, but this rapid succession knock let you know that whatever it was was an absolute emergency. You looked over at your clock and it read 2:06 in the morning. What could Peter have done at 2 in the morning? You crawled out of bed and opened up the window, Peter falling in, quite literally. You gasped as you could see your carpet build up blood from Peter.

You rushed over to him, and rolled him over. He winced in pain as he held his arm which had a long cut running down it. “Peter, what happened?” you asked, as you ran to get towels. You applied pressure to the wound and looked up at him to see him looking in concentration. “I got in a really bad biking accident”. You knew that this was a lie because of how long it took for him to come up with that. You let it slide however because he was in enough pain as it was. You bandaged him up and hugged him tightly, thankful that he was ok. “I’m glad you are ok,” you whispered against his chest. “Yeah, me too,” his mind wandering to the truth.

The truth came a few weeks later. You had started to grow distant and Peter knew it was because you felt that he wasn’t being truthful. He knew it was time to come clean. He asked if he could come over to your house, which was unusual since he always just came over unannounced, which is what you liked about him. You knew that something was going to happen, you just didn’t know what. He came in through the window as always, but the look on his face told a different story from the usual face Peter had. “Peter, what’s wrong?” you asked, knowing that he was upset. He just told you to sit down on the bed next time. You sat next to him and slipped your arm through his, but he just slid out of your touch. “[Y/N], I need to be really honest with you,” was all he was able to say. He started to fidget with his hands, which was something he did when he was nervous.

After a few seconds of silence, Peter turned to face you. “There’s no lighter way to put it: I’m Spiderman. I was bit by a radioactive spider and I now try and protect the city. That’s why I came to your house the other week, I had been fighting someone and I got hurt. I’m so sorry”. You gave him a confused look. “Why are you sorry?” He stared in your eyes for a second, almost contemplating his next words when he said, “Because I’m breaking up with you”.

You shook your head and wiped away your tears. “No, you can’t break up with me”. He gave you an estranged look and asked “What do you mean?” You gave him a serious look and said “Because I’m in love with you”. You two had never said those words before, so it took Peter aback for a moment. “[Y/N], I love you too, but I’m doing what’s best for you”. You knew he meant no harm but his words brought rage in you. “You’re doing what’s best for me? If you were doing what’s best for me, you’d ask me. I love you and you love me, you don’t have to worry about keeping me safe. Staying together is what we should do. You can’t fight with a broken heart,” you held onto Peter as if your life depended on it. He held onto you back after a moment, knowing you were right. 

Thank you so much for being so supportive! I’m leaving Florida in a few days, so I’ll be much more active! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

-Lianne

So.

As you might imagine, my inboxes have been flooded over the last few days.  My fic represents, for a lot of people, either their start in Avengers fandom, or the safe place they retreat to when the angst and infighting and shipwars got too intense.  Which I get, and I appreciate, and I’m so glad if my old fics can give people a little happiness, even after all this time.

But there’s a thread I keep picking up in comments, that kind of worries me.

That things that happened in the MCU have taken the fandom away from them.  That the way things happened in Endgame have left people distraught, or angry, or just grieving.  And a lot of people have worried that they’ve ‘lost’ these characters.

And look.

Look.

I say this as a fandom old.  I say this as someone who reads comics.  Who came from the Trek fandom.  Who’s lived through bad movie adaptations and subpar ghostwriters and writing staff changes that have destroyed tv shows before they had a chance to really fly.

Don’t let canon take anything away from you.

You can be disappointed in a thing.  You can have your heart broken by a writer.  You can hope against hope that something that means the world to you will be ‘true,’ but don’t let a corporation take your heroes away from you.

Every one of us has to pick and choose what we keep and what we leave behind.  But every single version of Captain America has been fanfiction since Jack Kirby and Joe Simon put their pens down.  He’s owned by a corporation, and they can decide what’s on screen, who gets paid to write him, who gets the big platform.  They get to decide canon.

But canon is meaningless.

Canon is a way to win an argument in a bar or in a schoolyard.  It’s knowing publication dates and issue numbers and who wrote what arc and when the reboots happened.  It exists.

But when I think of Hawkeye, canon is only part of the picture.  I do think of Matt Fraction’s run on the comics.  I do think of those early years, sneaking my brother’s issues of West Coast Avengers.  I think of the weird, wild, off beat run of Secret Avengers.  But I also think of @dr-kara’s art of him.  I think of fanfic long since deleted, that introduced me to the fandom tropes of Clint living in the vents.  I think of the Tumblr posts, diving deep into the psychology of trauma, into his place as the most human and the most pointless of the original six, into a thousand stupid memes.  Caw-caw, motherfucker.  I think of the comments I got, telling me he was OOC.  I think of the Hawkeye cosplayers I’ve met, including the one guy who was in full gear at Star Wars Celebration in Florida.  I asked him why, and he shrugged and said, ‘Clint would’ve.’  I agree with him.  

I think of the first time a friend put a bow in my hands, and showed me how to shoot, wobbly and uneven, at a straw target all the way across the yard.

I think of the bruises that dotted my arms afterwards.

So canon can add new things.  Take bits away.  Make me think.  Make me hurt.

But nothing canon does will ever cause him to be different, not on any fundamental level.  Clint Barton started forming in my head when I was eight years old.  He belongs to Marvel, but the version I carry with me has a lot more sources than that.

Guys, this is a long way of saying: find your own version of the character.  Find what you need in a fandom.  And think of canon like that one fic that has a million kudos on AO3 and you just. Don’t.  Know.  Why.  That one fic, that everyone talks about, that you just can’t stand.

If canon doesn’t work for you, then discard it.  And move on.

But don’t let a corporation take a character you love away from you.

Don’t ever let that happen.

Caught (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: Bucky catches the reader singing in the kitchen.

Word Count: 700ish

Warnings: a few swears?

(M/f/n) = male friend’s name

—————————————-

You and Bucky shared a floor in the tower and were quite close. He’d come home late from a mission yesterday so you assumed he’d be sleeping in late. So you took the opportunity to bake him a bunch of cakes and biscuits.

During your baking, you FaceTimed one of your friends (m/f/n) and you played cheesy love songs which the two of you were singing along to.

Bucky walked down the hallway very early on in the playlist, while you were singing loudly to “Careless Whisper” by George Michael. He’d decided to stay quiet and hidden to see what you were up to without scaring you.

He’d managed to not be caught for at least half an hour, listening to terrible renditions of songs like “Every Breath You Take” or “I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing” and he’d only just managed to stifle his laughter at your ridiculous singing and dancing to “Take My Breath Away” from the Top Gun film you’d made him watch a few weeks back.

About halfway through “I’ll Make Love To You” you pointed at your iPhone to your friend as you sang the chorus. Bucky craned his neck to see what you were pointing at and his heart dropped when he saw you’d been FaceTiming a guy this whole time, and that all those songs were probably aimed at him.

He sighed as he began to walk away and his disappointment made his presence known to you, “Bucky! You’re awake!” You ran up and hugged him and he forced a smile.

“Hey, what’s with the fake smile mister?” You could see right through him.

“I’m just tired from yesterday, (y/n), I’m alright.”

“Well that’s why I made you all this!” You spread out your arms and gestured to all the cakes and cookies that were cooling on the counter.

“Ah thanks (y/n).” He hugged you.

“You don’t seem very surprised about it.” You raised an eyebrow.

“Well-uh… I may have been watching you singing and dancing for a while now.” He said with a small smile - genuine this time.

Your jaw dropped, “Ah fuck, how long exactly?” You asked, hoping for a good reply.

He thought for a second before replying, “Umm, the first song I remember was George Michael.”

You grabbed your laptop and looked at the playlist. “Shit, that was like 40 minutes ago. Oh god this is embarrassing.” You put your face in your hands before a voice spoke up, “I’m still here you know.”

“Oh shit, sorry (m/f/n). I’ll talk to you later okay, I need to gather up my dignity. I’m never gonna dance again.” And you mentally cursed your choice of words when you heard Bucky murmur ‘my guilty feet have got no rhythm’.

“Alright, no worries, speak later.” He spoke and you hung up.

“Who’s that?” Bucky asked, expecting the worst.

“Oh that’s just my friend from my old work. Cheesy love songs are kinda our thing.” You smiled to yourself and then looked up at Bucky, who looked a lot happier than before.

“What’s perked you up all of a sudde-?” You asked before being cut off by his lips on yours.

You broke apart for air. “I thought he was your boyfriend and that’s why you were singing those songs.”

“God no, we’re just really close friends.” You said through giggles.

“Good.” Bucky smiled before kissing you again before an obnoxious beeping sounded in the room.

“Oh fuck, the gingerbread is burning.” You ran to the oven to take them out and put them on a cooling rack.

You sauntered back over to Bucky, “where were we?” And you began to kiss again.

“Ah yes! Food! Thanks for telling me FRIDAY!” You pulled apart as Tony practically shrieked as he entered the kitchen and went to pick up a gingerbread before dropping it and squealing at the heat of it.

“Hands off Tony! They’re for Bucky.” You snapped and he stepped back.

“What, all of it?” He asked with puppy dog eyes.

“Yep. Now get lost.”

“But (y/n).” He whined, drawling out your name.

“If I let you take a rack of cookies, will you leave us alone for a little while.” Bucky offered.

“Yes! Definitely! Wait, why do you wanna be left alo- oh gross!” He looked in disgust and picked up a rack and sprinted off.

You both giggled and carried on with no more interruptions.