#but let’s just say… when you meet your soulmate you start aging slower. okay yes let’s go with that

[robertdowneyjjr]

so none of this is what any of you asked for, but part 3 of the stonyclunks soulmates au @stark-and-shield @polizwrites @soliloquent-stark

(parts one and two)

tony spends his flight home from london agonizing over what he should do next.

on the one hand, his feelings about captain america haven’t changed. if anything, he’s now even more adamant that he wants nothing to do with him, because not only does tony now have proof that cap is a total dick, he also now feels like all that childhood trauma?? was the result of a lie. now he knows that he grew up being compared to someone who isn’t even really as great as his dad made him seem. so maybe now he has some validation (and vindication) that howard was wrong. but still, he could have just done without the years of feeling like he wasn’t good enough.

on the other hand, he’s a hopeless romantic at heart and he’s always dreamed of meeting and growing old with his soulmate. he grew up surrounded by them — his parents are soulmates. ana and edwin jarvis are soulmates. aunt peggy and uncle daniel are soulmates. that nature-defying love has always been the shining example of what real happiness is to him and he’s been desperate for it since he was 25, the average age when people meet their soulmates. the fact that he lived until he was 38 and still never met his soulmate had hurt him everyday. and sure, he’s happy in other ways. he’s content with how his life has turned out. he has amazing friends. he has a family that supports him. but god, he wants to share it with someone who he knows is fated to be his.

now, he’s kind of annoyed that he and his dad have another thing in common, what with howard not meeting maria until he was in his 40’s. and at this point he’s starting to think that being soulmates with captain america is some sort of sick cosmic joke that the universe is playing on him.

also he’s really, really pissed that the words that are permanently marked on his skin are so ugly.

at dinner before their night at the opera, tony tells maria, “mama, i met my soulmate.”

“oh that’s wonderful, antonio! tell me all about them!”

maria can hardly contain her excitement, and tony feels awful that the news he’s about to share isn’t worth her feeling this happy about.

“it was two weeks ago, a total accident. he was really mean,” he explains softly. if they weren’t in public right now he might even have just shown her the words on his thigh, but he knows her protective instincts would rear their head immediately and she’d skip the opera just to get started on hunting down the man who spit such vitriol at her son.

“oh. well, has he apologized for it?” maria asks. “i hope he has some basic manners, at least. i won’t allow someone who treats my son such poorly into the family, whether you’re soulmates or not.”

“he… has. quite dramatically,” tony says, thinking about the instagram post that had been causing a media frenzy for a week now.

“well, good. he should know you’re to be treasured,” maria sniffs. “when will i get to meet him?”

“i haven’t seen him again since. i don’t know if i really want to.”

“why not, bambino? you’ve always wanted to meet your soulmate.”

“mama… it’s captain america.”

maria looks around the restaurant. “where? i thought howard was with him tonight. crazy old man, still thinks he’s in his prime and trying to keep up with people half his age.”

“no, mama. my soulmate. he’s captain america.”

“oh. oh dear.”

“yeah.” tony picks up his fork and starts eating again. “i think i might just be better off dying alone.”

maria doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. suddenly all the excessive whining from steve that howard has been telling her about makes a lot more sense. she knows that steve is a good man. maybe not perfect like howard always made him out to be. but kind, nonetheless. he would be good to tony, good for him, she’s sure. tony just needs to give him a chance.

but also, like she said, tony should be treasured. if steve wants to make up for how they started off, he needs to pull out all the stops. tony deserves nothing less than the best, after all. and to be honest, maria thinks she might enjoy watching steve grovel a bit. she’s also looking forward to making fun of howard for having such an idiot as a best friend and future son-in-law.

so she starts planning.

“tonio, darling, why don’t you stay over at the mansion tonight? ana was just saying we haven’t had brunch with you in ages.”

“sure, mama.”

under the table, she texts howard.

M: is steve still pouting about his life?

H: unfortunately. i’m just glad beer does nothing for him. i can’t imagine how much worse this all could be if he were drunk.

M: poor boy. maybe he’s also feeling a bit lonely. there are plenty of rooms in the mansion if he doesn’t want to go home to an empty apartment tonight.

H: he might like that. i’ll let him know.

#maria loves to meddle okay she just wants her son to be happy but she also wants to have her fun #while writing this i also just realized that howard should be basically on his deathbed now he’s so old #but let’s just say… when you meet your soulmate you start aging slower. okay yes let’s go with that #stonyclunks soulmates au #stevetony #stony #kay writes things

[buckybeardreams]

Unwanted

Chapters: 6/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Knotting

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him.

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Can also be read here

Words: 2,125

"Can I dry you off?" Steve blurted out.

Tony raised a brow at him.

"Excuse me?"

"Your hair... it's wet," Steve said lamely, touching the end of one of the curls that framed Tony's face.

"Yeah, I guess," Tony said, because he didn't know what else to say to the odd request.

Tony grabbed Steve's hand and tugged him down the hall and into the bathroom. Steve shifted awkwardly on his feet and Tony hopped up on the counter.

"Towels are in there." Tony pointed to a built-in cabinet.

Tony blushed bright red and bit his lip as Steve rubbed a towel over his head. There was something so tender about the way he did it that made Tony feel strange. It was a good kind of strange, but strange nonetheless. When his hair was as dry as it was gonna get Steve set the towel down and they just stared at each other for a moment.

"Thank you," Tony breathed out, feeling all fuzzy inside.

Steve nodded, clearing his throat and blushing.

"Um, yeah, of course."

Tony licked his lips and jumped down and Steve stumbled backwards, caught off guard by how close they suddenly were. Tony just giggled and headed off to raid Brock's closet for dry clothes, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame the mess of curls.

*****

Steve couldn't stop staring at Tony during dinner and Tony kept blushing and squirming which just made Steve blush and squirm too. Brock just rolled his eyes at them.

"I'm glad you both stopped being stupid, but you need to stop being so damn awkward."

Tony narrowed his eyes at him before smiling a little too innocently.

"Would you rather me bend over the table and let him knot me?" Tony asked sweetly, batting his eyes at Brock.

Steve choked on the bite of pasta in his mouth, coughing and pounding his fist on his chest.

"What?" Steve wheezed.

Tony and Brock burst out laughing and Sam reached over to thump Steve's back.

"You okay, man?" Sam asked him.

Steve waved him off.

"Yeah, fine," Steve managed.

That seemed to break the ice at least. Tony and Brock started chatting after that, teasing each other, all laughs and smiles. Steve and Sam were mostly silent, watching their Omegas like they were celestial beings sent down from the heavens to grace them with their presence. When the night ended Steve offered to walk Tony home. Tony just laughed at that.

"Nah, I can get myself home just fine," Tony said, smiling.

He pressed closer, slipped his hand into Steve's back pocket to pluck out his phone and pouted when he realized it was locked.

"0-8-1-0," Steve offered up unprompted.

Tony blinked up at him in surprise before smirking. He added his number and handed the phone back.

"Text me, yeah?" Tony ran his hands up Steve's chest.

Steve couldn't believe his luck. Why someone like Tony wanted someone like him, Steve would never know, but he was thrilled to have the opportunity to prove himself to his Omega.

"Yes, sir," Steve whispered, feeling breathless like Tony had reached inside his lungs and stole the air from him.

Tony giggled and shook his head in amusement, close enough to Steve for his curls to bounce across his chest. Tony leaned his weight against him.

"You can call me Tony."

Steve nodded, hesitating only briefly before running a hand down Tony's spine. Tony shivered, rubbing his face against Steve's pecs which were remarkably soft for how ridiculously defined they were.

"What about pretty Omega? Can I call you that or will you go off about being an independent Omega that doesn't need an Alpha's validation to know you're pretty?"

Tony rolled his eyes, smiling softly.

"Yeah, whatever. I guess I can allow it. As long as you know I don't need your compliments to know just how hot I am."

Steve chuckled.

"You're gorgeous, Tony, but for what it's worth, I love that you know what you want."

"Yeah? Because you like being bossed around?" Tony teased.

Steve blushed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I do," Steve mumbled shyly.

Tony grinned at him, standing up on his tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

"Text me when you get home, yeah?" Tony said with a smirk.

Steve nodded.

"Yes, si-- Tony."

Tony just shook his head again in amusement, his eyes sparkling.

How did he possibly end up with someone so perfectly suited to him?

It clearly was a match made in the heavens.

"Good boy," Tony purred.

"Can I text you on the way home?" Steve blurted out, blushing bright red when he realized what he'd asked.

Tony raised his brows in surprise.

"Clingy much?" Tony teased.

He regretted it instantly when Steve's face fell.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that--"

Tony cut him off before he could continue to apologize, cupping his cheek and shushing him.

"Hey, no, I was just teasing. You can be clingy. It's cute."

The smile Tony got from that was blinding and his heart fluttered in his chest the whole way home.

*****

They texted back and forth as they headed to their separate locations and Steve told Tony the moment he got home. Tony told Steve when he got home, too, and Steve felt like he was going to melt into a puddle on the floor of his apartment. He was desperately in love with Tony and really that wasn't a shock. That's just the way it was supposed to be with soulmates.

Tony was just as hopelessly lost on Steve, his sweet, blushing Alpha. Tony fell into bed that night with a sigh, a grin on his lips. He just couldn't seem to stop smiling. Unfortunately, his smile did fade when the loneliness kicked in. He spent an hour tossing and turning restlessly before giving in and calling Steve. The phone only rang once before Steve picked up, sounding just as awake as Tony felt.

"Tony?" Steve asked, like he couldn't believe that Tony was really calling him.

There was also a squeak to his voice that made Tony suspicious.

"Why do you sound guilty? What are you doing?" Tony demanded.

Steve stumbled over his words for a moment before managing to form a full sentence.

"I was t-touching myself," Steve confessed, his voice barely audible.

Steve still had a hand wrapped around himself, but the fingers that had been inside of him were now wrapped around his phone.

"Oh really?" Tony said, his voice shifting to teasing, slower, smoother, thick as honey. "You being naughty, Alpha?"

"Um, yes?" Steve squeaked uncertainly.

Tony had never told him he couldn't touch himself, so he hadn't even thought to ask permission first. Tony giggled and Steve loved the sound of it right in his ear. He groaned, his hand squeezing his base, applying pressure to try and find some kind of relief to the sheer amount of horny this Omega was inflicting upon him.

"Okay, here's what we're gonna do. I can't sleep anyway, so we're gonna play a game."

Steve was immediately interested, holding his breath as he waited for Tony to continue.

"You like to finger yourself, Steve?"

Steve swallowed hard.

"Y-yes, sir."

"Good, I want you to get your hand off your dick and finger yourself. We're both gonna finger ourselves and come untouched," Tony told him. "Sound good?"

Steve nodded, whimpering.

"Tony, I'm not sure I can come untouched."

Alphas didn't have a g-spot like Omegas did, but this just made Tony coo at him.

"Aw, are you worried that you'll get all frustrated, Alpha?"

Steve whined high in his throat at the thought.

"If you don't get a release, Alpha, that's really not my problem, but if I don't get my release, then we're gonna have a real problem. So why don't you be a good boy and get some fingers inside of you? Open yourself up and make pretty sounds for me to get off on."

Steve moaned at the thought of his Omega getting off on his sounds. He wanted that so badly.

"O-okay, sir."

Tony bit his lip.

"Put me on speaker," Tony instructed, putting his own phone on speaker and setting the phone next to him on the mattress.

He could hear the shuffling as Steve did the same and then he heard the groan when Steve shoved his fingers back inside of himself, one hand holding his cheek, his fingers trying to dig in as far as they could go. Steve really wanted more. It wasn’t nearly enough, but Tony had said to use his fingers. Steve wasn't about to disobey his Omega.

If Tony thought that Steve made pretty sounds, moaning and groaning, whining and whimpering as he got closer to his release but struggled to push himself over the edge, then Steve thought Tony made the prettiest goddamn sounds in the world. Tony whined and whimpered and Steve could hear the rustling of his sheets as he squirmed on the bed, damn near sobbing as he got close.

"Alpha, Alpha, 'm so close, so close," Tony whined.

Steve whined back, sounding distressed because he didn't think he would get a release and the thought of staying frustrated all night, maybe even longer if Tony didn't give him permission to come in the morning, was just too much.

When Tony came though, crying out for his Alpha, it was enough to push Steve over the edge and he lost himself for a blinding moment, pleasure overwhelming him and relief flooding through him. It was when they were coming down from their highs, panting heavily and barely able to talk, that Steve groaned out,

"Fuck, I love you."

There was a beat of silence where Steve realized what he said and Tony's heart froze, before speeding up until he thought it might burst out of his chest.

Tony didn't know if he loved Steve. He knew he should, because they were made for each other. He thought that maybe he did, but it was too soon. He couldn't admit it to himself, let alone to Steve.

"Go to sleep, pretty Alpha. You did so good for me," Tony murmured instead. "You sound so damn pretty when you're all frustrated."

Steve bit his lip.

He wished he hadn't said I love you. Saying it and then having his Omega not say it back dulled his high, brought him back to the ground painfully quick. The sun that had just been shining on him disappeared and the gray crept in around the edges, threatening rainstorms.

"Night, Tony," Steve managed, hanging up and rolling onto his side. He curled in on himself and the tears poured down his cheeks.

Tony swallowed hard, his eyes shutting, sleep evading him as the hours stretched on.

*****

Steve felt like shit when he peeled himself out of bed the next morning. He went through his morning routine, but he might as well have been a zombie. All he could think about was Tony and how he hadn't said I love you back. Steve was startled out of his stupor by a knock on the door. He frowned as he opened it.

"Tony?" Steve said, shocked by the unexpected sight of his Omega, his hair disheveled and sticking up all over the place and a pout on his lips.

Tony wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

"I love you, Alpha. I should have said it last night, but I was scared."

Just like that the sun was shining again and Steve grinned at his Omega.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm just happy you're here."

Tony huffed.

"Don't shush me. I'll shush you, stupid Alpha," Tony grumbled. "Shhhh."

Despite his grumbling, Tony pressed closer and purred happily.

"I love you, pretty Omega," Steve murmured in his ear.

Tony couldn't help the blush on his cheeks and the grin on his lips, but he hid his face in Steve's chest so his Alpha wouldn't see.

"Shut up," Tony mumbled into his shirt.

Steve laughed and pressed a kiss to his hair.

"You're cute, you know that?"

Tony lifted his head to glare at Steve.

"Make me some coffee. I haven't had any yet."

Steve's lips twitched.

"As you wish, my pretty little Omega."

Tony rolled his eyes at him, pulling away to plop down on the couch and kicking his shoes off. Steve shook his head in amusement, shutting the door and grabbing Tony's shoes to place on the shoe rack, before heading off to the kitchen to fetch some coffee for his spoiled Omega. Steve made pancakes, too, and all of his domestic work was made worth it when Tony smiled at him and murmured good boy.

#stony fic #stony #superhusbands #stevetony #steve x tony #tony x steve #steve/tony #a/b/o #a/b/o verse #avengers a/b/o #a/b/o fic #a/b/o dynamics #my fic updates #unwanted #the avengers fanfiction #the avengers #the avengers fic #avengers fanfiction #avengers #avengers fic #marvel fic #marvel #mcu fanfic #mcu #iron man #captain america #ao3 wip #ao3 fic #ao3 writer #ao3 work

[ivegotbreadinmypants]

calls of guilty thrown at me

a little soul-baring never hurt anyone (1/3)

Find it here on AO3

Geralt/Jaskier - Soulmate AU

Word Count: 3792

Jaskier has known his soulmate for over twenty-two years, yet he's never felt the man's lips against his.

—OR—

Jaskier and Geralt go to a banquet, and Jaskier meets his rival-slash-ex-lover there. Somehow it gets emotional; there's some crying involved and soul-baring on both sides.

The way s(he) tells me I'm (his) and s(he) is mine

Open hand or closed fist would be fine

The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine

If Jaskier wanted to count the number of times Geralt has saved his life, the number wouldn’t be accurate because twenty-two years of friendship means the many, many, many times Geralt has saved the hair on the top of his head. Jaskier is thinking this night is only another tally to Geralt’s score.

The bard was invited to perform for a ball at this duchy. It all started from a simple contract, really. Geralt was tasked by an ealdorman to take out the two—not one but two—drowned dead nests skirting the edge of the village, near the swamp. Obviously, when word got out that Geralt of Rivia was in town, the duke—a fan of Jaskier’s work—just had to invite the bard to entertain the village, a celebration of sorts after Geralt’s completed contract.

Jaskier could not refuse a man of such power, especially when he’s getting coin. Besides, it has been a while since he’s performed in front of a regal crowd.

Geralt wasn’t fond of the plan.

“Please, Geralt, just one night of drinking and my wonderful music and then we’ll be on our merry way to be covered in selkie guts in the next town,” Jaskier had pleaded. The man had glowered for a good few minutes before grumbling, “Just as long I’m not wearing anything colorful. Or any doublets.”

“Ah, well, that isn’t quite up to me. You see, the duke’s sister expects everyone to be in their finest wear for the evening and we can’t have you walking in wearing your… very fashionable blood-splattered armor. She already sent your clothes that I requested to the inn.” Jaskier worried that it was the deal-breaker for the man, but to his surprise, other than an exasperated glare and a heavy sigh, the Witcher could not say no to the bard. After all, they are soulmates.

——

When they met in Posada, and Jaskier broke the silence with the most charming sentence a man can say: I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood, Geralt had barely flinched and, without missing a beat, told the bard he was drinking alone.

Obviously, a Witcher of Geralt’s caliber was taught not to react to strong, unbidden emotions. But Jaskier, on the other hand, wasn’t taught to suppress what he felt on a day-to-day basis, so it was only fair when the bard had almost lurched forward in shock, the gentle burn of his words—written in bold just above his left hipbone—sending a full-body tingle from his head to the tips of his fingers and toes.

Jaskier still vividly remembers the small smirk on Geralt’s lips after he saw the entirety of his reaction—when the bard’s world was turned on its head in a second.

Despite their shared soul-marks, Geralt never made the whole ordeal as romantic as ballads had painted it out to be. In fact, Geralt never made any sort of move at all. At the end of their adventure at the Edge of the World, Jaskier concluded that the Witcher just wasn’t attracted to him that way.

Sure, they have their chemistry; the easy back and forth between them; that familiar spark of a soul-bond, that pull of fate bringing them together when one needs it; and when Jaskier turns up the annoying theatrics, the Witcher never once pushes or sends him away.

(Other than that one time on the mountain—)

But even after years of knowing each other—possibly closer than anyone Jaskier knows—Geralt never once made a move. Jaskier has heard of soulmates who don’t fall in love; those who choose not to or just have unforeseen circumstances standing in their way. Jaskier doesn’t take it personally (—okay, maybe he did, a long time ago, but only for a while. The bitter anger was fleeting.) and he’s come to treasure what he has with the Witcher, no matter how far apart they are on the Continent.

Being with Geralt is like a warm scented bath after hours of walking, like a sip of cold apple juice in the sun, like a string of pretty words coming together perfectly in a new ballad. Being with Geralt is like coming home.

And it’s no doubt why Geralt humors the bard on his many, many ridiculous whims. The Witcher feels the same when Jaskier is around. It’s inevitable when one is your soulmate.

But sometimes, during the lonely nights away from his dear Witcher, Jaskier wonders if what he feels is a result of falling in love rather than the soul-bond binding them together.

It’s a thought he tries not to visit often.

——

“This, this, damn thing won’t fit properly,” Geralt curses, the frantic movement of his shadow behind the room divider giving a rather amusing view of Geralt getting trapped in the confines of his new outfit. Jaskier hardly tries to stifle his laugh, coming up to knock on the divider.

“There’s no shame in asking for help, you know.”

“Yes. There is,” Geralt grits out. This time, Jaskier’s lips split into a grin, a laugh bubbling in his throat. “Just say the word, Witcher, and I shall valiantly save your life from those cursed clothes.”

“Shut up, Jaskier,” he grumbles and Jaskier only hums. The bard walks back to the bed, ungracefully plopping down on the mattress. He grabs onto his lute resting at the foot, and plucks a few strings, making sure they are finely tuned for his performance.

“Geralt?” The Witcher hums.

“Do you think that the duke’s sister is unwed?” There’s a soft grunt and the stomp of a boot as Geralt yanks on his shoes.

“Even if she is, it’s not like that’s going to stop you,” Geralt says matter-of-factly.

Jaskier grins. “You know me so well.” His thumb smacks on the top string, a shallow twang sounding in the room.

“Try not to get killed tonight, Jaskier. I don’t want to spend my evening chasing away jealous lovers,” Geralt rumbles, his voice still as gruff even when behind a room divider. Jaskier wonders what’s the point of the wooden wall. It’s not like he hasn’t seen the Witcher naked. He has, in fact, many times. (Maybe it’s just a flimsy reason to ogle the poor man, but he digresses.)

Jaskier makes a face when he realizes what his friend just said. “I won't, what was it you said?, ‘hide my sausage in the wrong royal pantry’.”

Geralt chuckles, a low sound that makes the air in Jaskier’s lungs disappear. The bard rolls his eyes and mutters, “Of course you’d laugh at your own joke.”

His fingers find a soft rhythm to drum on the surface of his lute. “I’m not quite feeling up to a lustful rendezvous tonight. Even a bard of my skill would be quite tired after performing for a court like this one.”

Geralt peeks around the divider, looking at the bard with a cocked brow. “I’ve seen you play for a kingdom court twice this size. Two nights in a row.”

Jaskier opens then closes his mouth, glancing away.

“That’s a very good point, Geralt.” The Witcher snorts and goes back to his buttoning his doublet.

Jaskier shrugs despite not being in his view. “Maybe I’m just getting old, my dear Witcher.”

Geralt snorts once again. It’s a special case, their soul-bond. Jaskier is supposedly forty-one and yet he still looks as young as the day he met Geralt. It’s almost as if upon meeting the Witcher, his aging process stopped. A decade ago, he would have claimed it was up to his skincare, but over thirteen years has passed and it’s like he hasn’t aged a day.

Geralt had pointed it out a few years ago when Jaskier passed him a bottle of wine—a gift for his thirtieth-sixth from his colleagues at Oxenfurt. It was a startling realization for the both of them. Witcher and human bonds are rarely heard of, but there are bonds between other magical beings and humans that are documented; it was said that the human, Jaskier in this case, is found to be aging slower because of residual magic binding two souls together.

Bollocks, he had said. But time passed and he still hasn’t aged.

Quite convenient, Jaskier had joked once, guess you’ll have to endure me being by your side for many years to come.

Geralt didn’t say anything, only hummed and stared into the fire thoughtfully.

A heavy, tired sigh reaches Jaskier’s ears and he can’t help but smile.

“Come on out, Geralt. You can’t avoid the social interaction forever.”

“I’ll try my darned best to,” Geralt growls as he steps out from behind the divider.

The first thought that crosses his mind is that Geralt is… ridiculously uncomfortable.

The second, well…

Jaskier is glad he has his lute over his lap.

Those sleeves really do a terrible job at keeping Geralt’s arms in, the fabric stretching to accommodate his lines of muscle. For another, his chest is so wide Jaskier has the unshakeable want for the man to press his weight onto him. And Gods, those trousers, those legs

“Jaskier,” Geralt calls out. The bard blinks and—

Geralt is smiling, a small grin curving his lips.

Jaskier clears his throat and jumps to his feet. “Well, chop, chop. We can’t be late; we would be awful special guests, won’t we?”

He ignores the way his cheeks heat up, hoping he turned around fast enough to hide it from the Witcher. Knowing Geralt though, he could probably even feel the damn temperature change.

——

The court is raucous by the time they both grace the halls, with men already drunk off the rails and women fawning over the warriors busy with arm-wrestles. When Geralt sends him the side-eye, Jaskier can only grin and shrug.

“Let’s just hope they have enough ale for you to get through this night,” Jaskier says, slapping the Witcher’s shoulder with sympathy. Geralt grumbles, “I was thinking the same thing.”

“Dandelion!” a manly voice booms from across the room. Immediately, cheers from all over the room erupt, and Jaskier can’t help bowing to his already wonderful audience.

He looks over his shoulder to Geralt, his eyes twinkling under the chandeliers. “And I didn’t even have to play a song.”

The man only snorts, rolling his eyes. They walk up to the ducal table and surprisingly, every member wears only welcoming smiles for the both of them. A small weight is lifted off Jaskier, glad that his songs have travelled this far to spare Geralt a little bit of the prejudicial stress of being a monster hunter.

The duke claps for them, getting to his feet, “Welcome! It’s a pleasure to see you two here. This morning, I had that the invitation did not get to you. Fortunately, it seems you two are not eager to leave the duchy yet. I am pleased.”

His Grace is regal man, his ornately stitched doublet and crown telling everyone that he’s no doubt a man of royalty. “We’d like to thank you, Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf, for ridding us of all those foul beasts—those pests. They’ve really been a pain in my arse—”

“Jarvis!” a well-dressed woman in green and golden robes by his side slaps his arm, but the duke only laughs. He leans down to press a kiss upon her temple. “I apologize, my lady. I did not mean to utter such profane things to our guests.”

“You better not,” the woman warns, but the loving warm grin on her face takes away the bite. Jaskier and the Witcher share a look. Soulmates.

Geralt bows his head respectfully, “I take no offense, Duchess. Besides, it’s all in a day’s work.”

She waves a hand. “Nonsense. You were invited as a guest and will be treated as such. It’s no matter if you wield two swords.”

Jaskier can’t help but pipe up, “Do I have to be a Witcher to be introduced to such a lovely lady?”

She faces Jaskier and the warmth and kindness emitting from her face grows tenfold. “Ah! Dandelion. You may refer to me as Duchess Emylya. My duke and I are nothing but big admirers of your work, especially of the tales with your—” she glances over with a smile to the silver-haired man by his side, “—Witcher.”

He chuckles. He’s not mine.

“I’m honored, Your Grace. It’s a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is all mine, bard. If you wish, you may start your performance,” the duchess says, and the duke nods, clearly as excited as she is.

“We are all rather eager to hear your tales straight from the source. Quite tired of listening to your stories from minstrels who’ve not faintest idea of what they’re singing about.”

Jaskier laughs. In the corner of his eye, he can see Geralt resigning himself to his fate. A night of mingling.

“Well, I would like to make good on my promise and let me grace your ears with my performance,” Jaskier merely says before heading to the group of minstrels prepping their instruments, sliding a comforting hand on Geralt’s back as he passes by. He overhears the duke inviting the Witcher to sit at their table and he has to muffle his snort of laughter. Only Geralt can be invited to sit at the ducal table.

He takes his time to tune his lute, even though it’s been done several times before the party even began. He then slides the strap over his shoulders and plucks an experimental first note. The crowd quietens.

He grins wolfishly, pleased by the warm reception. He strums a chord, and another and soon, the whole room bursts with life. He steps into the middle of the court, commanding attention with his ever imposing presence.

“Oh fishmonger, oh fishmonger, come quell your daughter’s hunger…”

It is a classic, a song that even dates back before Ciri’s birth. He still remembers the Cintran court like it was yesterday.

His body thrums with vibrant energy, like sunlight bursting from his chest, glowing at the seams. It has been a while since he’s let himself go like this, singing his heart out as if he’s still young and free—like a bird in the sky. He feels limitless, like he can sing and pluck a tune forever and ever, the moment unending as he brings joy and elation to everyone around him.

Golden honey brings him down to earth, grounds him in dirt and cooling soot; he meets the Witcher’s eyes from across the rowdy hall and can hardly tamp the urge to flash a wink. Geralt only smirks and gives a fond roll of his eyes back. The familiar interaction is a soothing wave, washing over him with warmth that Jaskier knows so well, pulling him down under the sea. He never wants to leave the water.

—————

After a whole hour of prancing around, music flowing through the air, Jaskier finds himself parched, a little worn out from the constant movement.

He tells the group of minstrels to take a break, considering they are probably faring worse than he is, and drifts over to the table of juices and alcohol provided. He pours himself a tankard of ale, gulping it down excessively to stave off the thirst.

He wonders if Geralt is enjoying himself, especially when it seems like the duchess has roped him into a deep conversation.

A hand rests atop the table right next to him, and he turns to face the person. Green eyes, dark hair and a handsome face.

Jaskier stops breathing.

Valdo fucking Marx.

His hackles raise, back going straight as a rod as he leans back to glare into those beady green eyes. He resists the urge to spill the biting remark already on his tongue.

“Jaskier,” he purrs, that annoying glint already in his eye, like he knows every little thought that crosses Jaskier’s mind. Before, it used to thrill Jaskier—the danger, the risk of having someone so sly and cunning between his sheets. Now, though, it fills him with unbridled bitter anger, Valdo’s stare unleashing an uneasy crawling feeling under his skin—like little bugs festering.

“Valdo,” he says stiffly, taking a step back, but the man only chuckles and closes the space.

“My dear, I must say, your voice is still as beautiful as the day I—”

“Left me with my heart torn to pieces like the snake you are?” Jaskier bites out.

He supposes he wasn’t able to resist the urge for too long.

Valdo laughs, a grating sound that used to charm Jaskier silly. Sometimes, Jaskier just absolutely hates his heart for falling in love so easily; it can never quite differentiate the bad from the good.

“Jask—”

“Call me Dandelion,” he states, no room for argument, narrowing his eyes. He wishes he has the fear-instilling glare Geralt is well-known for.

Valdo grins, his white teeth flashing in the golden candlelight. “My, my, my, you’ve grown feisty, haven’t you?”

“Not feisty. I just demand the respect you never gave me then.” His tone is sharp, cold and not quite forgiving. He’d rather die from one of Geralt’s Witcher potions than let the man treat him the same way again.

Valdo ducks his head, “Of course, my flower.”

Jaskier’s glare flares. His hand itches to throw a punch. He hasn’t hit a person in a while, considering Geralt has been doing good in terms of keeping him in check—stopping him just short of a tavern brawl every time. He doubts he would miss though; anyone would see Valdo’s face as the perfect target difficult to ignore.

“You should know to stay out of my way, but you just can’t help yourself, can you?” Jaskier hisses, fingers tightening around his tankard.

His smirk looks awful against the golden embroidered red doublet. He has good fashion taste, Jaskier can give him that; the only original thing the fraud has. Knowing him though, Jaskier won’t be surprised if he copied someone’s style.

“You know me, my flower, just a hopeless romantic for nostalgia. How can I ignore a beautiful old friend like you?” Valdo says, fingers digging into a fruit bowl, popping a grape into his mouth.

“Old?” Jaskier scoffs. “Are those crows’ feet I see?”

Yes, in this moment of time, Jaskier is willing to borrow one of Yennefer’s insults (that has since then turned into a fond sarcastic comment every time they see each other). It’s quite embarrassing to know Valdo can drag him to stoop so low as to borrow insults.

It further irks the bard when Valdo only chuckles, amused in the same way Lambert would be when Jaskier falls on his ass during sparring.

“Let’s just say I age for the both of us, especially since you’ve aged so beautifully,” Valdo jokes, sounding wistful, but it’s impossible to tell if there is any actual sincerity to it. The bard resists the urge to spit in his face.

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “Well, it sure has been an awful time catching up. Let’s never do this again, yes?” Jaskier picks up a fresh roll and goes to walk past the two-time cheat.

A hand slaps around his bicep and grips. “Now, now, now, that’s not the way to treat a friend—”

“You’re not my friend,” he snaps, dropping the bread roll and wrenching Valdo’s hand off his arm. The man only grabs a fistful of the back of his doublet and yanks him back to the side of the table—the movement subtle and fast enough no one who isn’t looking at them will notice.

Jaskier is closer to him now, close enough to smell the hint of oranges, lemon, the slightly sweet-sour note making Jaskier’s face scrunch—such a familiar scent that always sends him back to those nights in Valdo’s room.

Geralt had wondered why Jaskier so willingly left him to do work alone when they had that one archespore contract at a lemon farm.

Valdo clicks his tongue, sighing softly as if dealing with a bothersome stray, “That wasn’t what you said when came crawling back to me after your Witcher left you in the dust.”

Jaskier’s face twitches. He hopes the wretched, hurt emotion flew past fast enough but based on the amused grin on Valdo’s face, it wasn’t.

Jaskier doesn’t need to think twice to know what he’s talking about. It feels like a lifetime ago when Geralt was dragged to a royal court just like this—Jaskier was so naïve then, having fallen so deeply for his soulmate—that somehow ended with Geralt saddled with the responsibility of a Child Surprise, leaving the bard behind at the party. Jaskier didn’t get to talk to him, he just upped and left wordlessly, surrounded by broken furniture and aghast members of the royal family.

Obviously, Jaskier was hurt. Back then, it had been nearly a decade since they first met; he had thought Geralt trusted him enough to share his personal burdens.

It was so easy to float on the familiar wave of abandonment he started to associate with broken hearts and—sadly, more often than not—Geralt. It also made it much easier to fall into the arms of another.

Valdo wasn’t at Cintra’s court, but he was there at that blasted tavern when Jaskier licking his wounds after the party.

“I’m quite surprised you’re still trailing after him like a lovesick puppy.” Valdo takes obvious pleasure in the way Jaskier’s face twists, flames of anger licking the edges of the bard’s vision. The ‘you’re pathetic’ goes unsaid, but Valdo might as well have said it with the way he mockingly traces a finger under the line of Jaskier’s jaw.

“Even after all this time. I’d have thought you’ve grown a spine by now,” Valdo tells him, voice just above a husky whisper, the words send his temper skyrocketing.

Valdo’s hand slides down his front, nails grazing his throat, a twisted show of his benign mask. Jaskier bares his teeth, trying to slap away the offending limb from his body.

In a blink, the man grips Jaskier’s wrist, fingers digging into his pulse.

“Stop fighting. You know you can’t resist me,” Valdo mutters with a coy smile, like they’re sharing some sort of sick secret. He steps closer, breaking the boundaries of even Jaskier’s personal space, pressing up against his front.

Jaskier’s eyes go wide and he drops his tankard of ale—a twang of fear ringing in his chest—when fingers edge under his doublet, Valdo’s intent very clear.

Part two

#geraskier #geraskier fic #Ao3 #geralt x jaskier #geralt x jaskier fic #geralt #jaskier #witcher fic #soulmate au #geraskier soulmate au #my writing

[tgwltw]

Like a tattoo

Hi! Thank you for sending this in – it’s honestly my first ever attempt at a soulmate AU and it’s really fun! The ending is a bit vague, might write a part two but we shall see. Hopefully you will enjoy this! Quite sorry if it feels like there is a lack of Dick in this piece!! (So how is my first attempt at soulmate au!?) Anyways, hope you enjoy!

You have always known who your soulmate had been the first time you saw the name appear on the inside of your arm – this is mostly because you are friends with the owner of the name. You have always had an inkling at the back of your mind that he is your soulmate mostly because the two of you have been friends ever since you were a young child. Not only that, there is a zing between the two of you – he always manages to cheer you up whenever your favourite food cannot and he is always there for you too almost all of the time. He is your best friend just as you are his. Obviously, you have entertained the thought of him being your soulmate.

John.

When you are of age, you will receive your soulmate’s middle name appear on some part of your arm and yours had appeared the moment you turn of age. It caused you to panic at first – mostly because John is a very, very generic name and anyone and everyone can have the name ‘John’ too.

When Dick had asked you whose name appeared on your arm, you simply told him you didn’t know who the person is and that you are looking forward to Dick receiving his – you are after all two months older than him so obviously you would get yours before him – and Dick simply pouts but relents with your decision anyways.

“Hey, Y/N. Are we still up for movies tonight?” Dick asks you over the phone one day. Ever since you have found out that Dick is your soulmate – there are a lot of signs that shows who your soulmates are and all of yours point right to Dick – you have tried your hardest to go out of your way to avoid him. It hurts to be apart from Dick but you also don’t know how to act properly in front of him too. Especially since you are now very aware of your own state as Dick’s soulmate.

You ponder for a while. You miss Dick. You really do – you don’t even remember the same time you have hung out with Dick and just bask in each other’s presence, talking about work and random stuff in life. “I’m getting in late from work…” You trail off when you hear Dick sighing.

“Are we okay, Y/N? I don’t know why but I’ve got this feeling that you have been avoiding me.” Dick points out and your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “Did I do something wrong?” Dick only noticed you avoiding him the second week you received your soulmate’s middle name. “Is it because you have got yours already – but we promised to still be friends regardless of who our soulmates are?”

That definitely made you feel extremely guilty and try as you might, you know you can no longer deny Dick anymore. “We are fine – you’re just thinking too much.” You lie through your teeth. “I was going to tell you I’d still be up for movie night if you can get take-out for dinner because I doubt I will even have the energy to cook from scratch.” You tell Dick who then chuckles, sounding relieved at what you have just said.

“Our favourites for dinner then?” Dick says excitedly. He really has missed you quite a lot. Dick has an inkling that you actually know who your soulmate is but instead of pestering you to tell him, Dick figures you will tell him whenever you are ready so he will wait until you are. “I’ll see you tonight, Y/N.” Dick hesitates for a bit before quickly adding, “I miss you, you know?”

Your cheeks are now burning for a different reason. “I miss you too, Dick. See you tonight.” You tell him and Dick chuckles. The two of you exchange a few more words before hanging up the call. You place your phone down and sigh. You roll your sleeves up and look at the name that is on your arm, tracing the name ‘John’ multiple times. Dick’s birthday is coming up sometime soon and you are deathly afraid of whose middle name will appear on his arm.

The other – more important – reason as to why you tried your hardest to avoid him is because you know the moment you tell him; Dick will not let it go until he knows every single thing – you can never say ‘no’ to Dick too. Being with Dick has always attracted a lot of media attention and this is something you are still uncomfortable with – the fact that almost everyone will know of your stories on the newspapers or magazines – some fabricated, some exaggerated, rarely any ever appears to be true.

You like remaining anonymous, like remaining as a faceless person to the public eye. Which is why most of the time, Dick and you ever meet up whenever you are done with work late at night or Dick drops by your apartment – you also know of his life as Nightwing as well, there is nothing he keeps away from you – or the occasional Dick sneaking you in to the manor from the public eye. Yes, you are really bad with receiving attention and the attention Dick may draw to you (if your middle name ever shows up on his).

Your day could not have gone any slower. Half of you is very excited to finally be able to see Dick again but the other half is just absolutely terrified at the confrontation you know will happen because Dick being Dick will not let you run away with your problems. So you steel yourself the moment you get off work. Your drive back to your apartment is a whole lot of convincing yourself to not cancel very last minute and a lot of “you can do this, Y/N!”

By the time you get to your apartment, you spot Dick’s motorcycle and your heart starts to beat rapidly against your chest and you can feel his name throbbing slightly – that is also another sign of him being your soulmate. You lock your car and pad over to your building – Dick’s most likely either in your apartment or he is waiting outside of your door. Thankfully, you have a little bit of time for yourself when you notice that Dick is not outside your door.

“Alright, Y/N. You can do this, girl.” You mutter to yourself as you unlock your door. You are greeted with the savoury smell of food and your stomach growls, protesting for some food.

Dick must have heard the door unlocking because the next thing you know, you are wrapped tightly in his arms, burying his nose in your hair. Your arms came around your waist and you relish the feel of being in his arms – you have definitely missed this. You only pull away when you smell something starting to burn so you push your hands in to his stomach.

“Dick, do you have something on the stove? It’s starting to smell burnt.” You look towards the kitchen and Dick lets out a gasp before rushing off to the kitchen and you laugh. This is definitely something you have missed. You drop your bag on the floor before walking to the kitchen as well. Dick is currently putting the food on to the plate. “I thought you were going to get take-outs?” You ask him, taking a whiff of the delicious smell.

Dick shrugs his shoulders. “I figured you should at least get something home-cooked! You probably had take-outs and reheated frozen food. Besides, Alfred taught me how to whip up this pasta and it’s the easiest one to do too before you compliment me too much that is.” He explains without you asking. “Do you want to take a shower first or should we do dinner first and then movie?”

You look at the state of your clothes. “I think I’m going to take a quick shower, be right back.” Dick chuckles and nods his head as he watches you leave the kitchen. Dick lets out a sigh, scratching at his arm. His birthday is coming up soon and he really hopes your name will appear on his arm – that’s mostly the reason why he has yet to act on his feelings at all. He knows deep down inside that you will most likely be his soulmate – he has been harboring these indescribable feelings for you ever since he had been old enough to understand the concept of being in love.

IF this knotted feeling in his stomach is love then, Dick knows for sure that he is in love with you. He just needs to make sure you understand that fact too. He seriously cannot wait to get his own mark.

#Dick Grayson #Dick Grayson x reader #Dick Grayson imagines #Dick Grayson imagine #Dick Grayson x reader imagines #Dick Grayson x reader imagine #Nightwing #Nightwing imagines #Nightwing imagine #Nightwing x reader #Nightwing x reader imagines #Nightwing x reader imagine #dc #dc comics #dc comics imagines #dc comics imagine #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc universe #dc reader insert #soulmate au

[mistyeyedgirl97-blog1]

Aging (Bucky x Female!Reader) {AUish}

A/N: This came to me and totally messed me up. So I thought... Why not write it down and share it so everyone else can be messed up like I was.

Summary: Soulmate AU where your soulmate’s first words are tattooed somewhere on your arms. You get your mark between 18 and 21. If you don’t meet, you age slower than average until you meet them. You continue aging at a normal rate once you meet them.

*Disclaimer: Obviously I don’t own anything except the AUish storyline.*

Summary: Y/N had gotten her mark the night before her 21st birthday. She thought she was going to be just like her other family members and meet her soulmate not long after. That wasn’t the case and if she was being truthful with herself... She didn’t want to meet them.

Sorry I shot at you. 

You rubbed over your forearm where your words were. They were written in a forced controlled type of manner. You couldn’t understand why that made you feel odd.. or angry. You couldn’t even think of why your soulmate would say that to you.

You had gotten your mark not long ago and your family wondered when you would finally meet your soulmate. Everyone in the family had met their soulmate within a month of having their soul mark. You could see it now, that they were pulling away from you. Away from the one who was different from the rest.

You were at a bar about a block from your apartment in Brooklyn. You looked up as you heard the door open. A woman in a red dress walked in and sat a seat down from you. You felt intrigued but didn’t push anything. You noticed she was crying but didn’t go and ask her anything. You saw a guy come over and try to hit on her and she moved down. You looked at the guy before acknowledging her.

“Oh my gosh! Angie? Is that you? I didn’t see you come in,” you said and turned to hug her. “Just go with it,” you whispered into her ear.

“I didn’t think I would see you here,” she said as she hugged you back.

“Come on, I heard of this new place down that I thought you would love to visit,” you said and led her out of the bar.

“Thank you,” she said as she stopped to turn towards you and held out a hand.

“No problem. Name’s Y/N, Y/N L/N,” you said and shook her hand.

“Peggy Carter,” she smiled.

“What brings you to Brooklyn?” you asked her.

“My soulmate,” she told you, sadly.

“Oh? And why isn’t he with you?”

“The war...”

“No need to finish that,” you told her. “Come on, I think I have something at my apartment.”

And that was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. You watched as Peggy grew old and married someone else who had also lost his soulmate. Your appearance stayed relatively the same. You kept your face out of the main parts of shield. Your file was on a need to know basis. When the new director, Nick Fury, came on you met him. You told him that no one was to know about me.

And then they found Captain America. You went to the nursing home that Peggy was at. She smiled at the news before she forgot it. You knew that her Steve would come to see her. You had remembered her telling you that he had always had two soul marks. You kept to yourself for awhile. Until one evening, Natasha Romanoff called about Nick Fury. And you went into hiding with her and the Captain.

“Sam,” you said. You had gotten to know him over the years at the VA clinic. He smiled as he opened the door to his home.

“Agent L/N,” Romanoff said.

“Please, it’s Y/N.”

“And who is this?” the Captain said as he came into the room.

“I think it’s time we finally met. Y/N,” you said and held out your hand. He shook it.

“Peggy-”

“Yes, I’m sure she’s been telling you tall tales about me,” you smiled at him. “She told me many about yourself, Captain.”

“My friends call me Steve,” he said. “And I’m sure many of those stories were true.”

“It has been a long 70 years, Steve,” you told him.

“Have you really been...” he seemed to want to ask but didn’t know if it was okay.

“Yes, unfortunately. I hope he’ll be worth the wait,” you smiled at him.

And you and this rag tag team were off to a great start. And then, the incident on the bridge happened. You could see that Steve had felt defeated. The mask had come off of the Winter Soldier.

“Bucky?” Steve asked.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” the Winter Soldier had said and then you jumped in front of Steve. The bullet missed but you knew that was the end.

Of course, Nick Fury had survived and you found yourself searching for this Bucky with Sam and Steve. And then, Ultron happened. You dealt with that and it felt as though everything was just piling up. The trails you were chasing were cold and you watched as the government you used to trust drew up the Sokovia Accords. And you found Bucky.

You smiled as Sam argued with Steve about trusting Bucky just because of something he said about the past. You loved the relationship they had with each other. You looked over to see Bucky staring at you. You rubbed at your covered forearm and walked over to him.

You looked at him curiously as he looked back at you.

“Sorry I shot at you,” he said. You gasped as a tingling sensation went through your body.

“You’re an asshole, James Buchanan Barnes,” you yelled at him. You heard two gasps in the room and turned to see that Steve’s mouth had dropped wide open.

“Guess now I know why you said it,” Bucky smirked. You hit his arm before you pulled up your shirt sleeve to show your mark and he showed his.

“Wow,” Steve and Sam said. You smiled at them.

“I knew she would be feisty. What did I tell ya, Buck,” Steve said as he came up and wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

You laughed at the look on Bucky’s face before you all went to call everyone.

The Raft sucked. You didn’t even turn around to look at Tony when he came. And you heard the alarms going off and Steve was there. You smiled at him and left for Wakanda. It was beautiful but it wasn’t home. You were in your room looking out at the forest that seemed to surround the palace. You heard a knock on the door before the person came in. Steve had asked you to go with him.

You made it to the medical part of the palace. You looked at Bucky curiously as he had almost no more of his metal arm. You looked over and saw a cryo tube. Your eyes widened as you realized what he was doing.

“You sure about this?” Steve asked him.

“I can’t trust my own mind.” And Bucky smiled. That smile told you everything you needed to know about what you were going to do. “So, until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head I think going back under is the best thing... For everybody,” he said as he looked from Steve to you. Steve moved back as you stepped forward.

You smiled at him before you took his hand in your own. “I’ll be here... When you wake up,” you told him. He smiled at you before he kissed you for the first time. You let him go and they put him under as you and Steve watched.

You saw King T’Challa walk in but you stayed by the tube. you placed your hand on the glass over where Bucky’s would go if he were to put it up with yours. You left and went to your room where you stayed.

Wanda had thought of something in the first two years of Bucky being in cryo. But, it would take a few years to perfect and make sure everything was gone. She knew that she could use her powers to get the triggers out of his head.

They were waking him up for the first session today and you were there. You held his hand as she worked and he smiled up at you before they put him to sleep. And then, monitors were going off and doctors were pushing you out of the way. Something had gone wrong and you watched as they put him back in cryo.

That was the first time you had truly broken down in front of someone. Steve held you as you realized that Bucky wasn’t going to get any older and you would always be changing... Aging. You knew that was the price you would have to pay as the years seemed to be growing longer and longer.

Wanda didn’t want to try again until she was sure that she wouldn’t mess up this time. That had taken her almost five years. You looked to be about 31 and everyday, you looked in the mirror, you saw that while Bucky’s age didn’t look a day over the 24 that you had looked when you met him, he would see an older version of yourself.

Bucky woke up with a start and you held him your arms. He looked at you and saw some of the newly acquired wrinkles you had gotten and he smiled. He told you that he would always love you, no matter what you looked like. You smiled and told him to lie back. you held his hand again and then the monitors were going off again. You looked at Wanda and she was shaking and blood was coming from her nose.

You held her back and she cried. She wished she could help you get him back but you just smiled at her. Steve took her from there and you went back to your room. You looked in the mirror again and another seven years passed and Wanda was ready to try again. You smiled and Steve took her hand so he was there for her support.

Bucky woke up again and he told you that if this time didn’t work, he didn’t want you to wake him up again until they were sure. You smiled as he took in your 38 year old self. He smiled and joked about the grey hairs he could see. Truly, you could tell he was scared. You smiled and made him lie back again. And then the monitors were going off and his indefinite cryo was put in place.

Years went by and Wanda perfected her technique but you knew, just as she did, that she wasn’t ready to help Bucky again. Ten years had gone by and you looked 48 and you could tell the years were wearing on your body. You had started visiting Bucky everyday and talking to him. You wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone.

Steve watches as you age, making sure to take a picture for every year so that Bucky could see how much you had grown. And then it happened. You had made sure you were checked every year but it still hit you pretty hard. You had been diagnosed with cancer. Steve wanted you to get the treatments but Wanda held him back.

“Steve,” you said from the chair that had been placed by Bucky’s tube for you. “I think it’s time to let nature run its course. I’ve been alive as long as you but I’ve been awake for all of it.” You smiled.

“But... What about Bucky?” Steve asked.

You smiled as you placed your hand on the tube. “He’ll be fine. Wanda will help him and he’ll have you.”

“He needs you, though,” he protested.

“Steve,” Wanda began. He looked at her. “Y/N’s body is wearing on her. It’s been almost 100 years. Her mind is not as old as her body. You have to let her make this decision for herself.”

Steve looked from you to Wanda before he fell to his knees in front of you. You pulled his head into your lap and you felt his shoulders shake as he cried. He knew there was nothing he could do and he felt like his world was falling apart again. You soothed him as if he were a child.

“I just wanted him to be happy. I don’t want him to wake up alone,” Steve told you.

You pulled his head up from your lap and looked him in the eyes. “He won’t wake up alone. He’ll have you,” you told him and kissed him on the forehead.

And you died the next year...

Wanda had gotten everything out of Bucky’s mind. Steve watched from the wall as his best friend woke up slowly. Before he was fully awake, Steve made sure to be right by his bedside. Bucky’s eyes opened and he smiled at Steve before he looked around the room. Steve knew he was searching for you.

“Where’s Y/N?” Bucky asked as he looked back at Steve in confusion.

Steve just shook his head as he felt the tears start to fall. Wanda came in and Bucky looked at her.

“Wanda, where’s Y/N?” Bucky asked in a more dangerous tone.

Wanda looked to see that Steve was crying silently. “You haven’t told him?”

Steve simply shook his head. Wanda sighed as Bucky looked between the two with confusion before that confusion slowly started to turn to anger.

“Where is she? Where’s my soulmate?” Bucky practically yelled and both Wanda and Steve flinched.

“She-” Wanda began.

“Let me tell him,” Steve told her. She nodded before she left the room again. “Buck...”

Bucky looked at him and then he saw that look. “No... No. Stevie, don’t tell me...” Bucky was shaking his head in disbelief. He couldn’t believe what Steve was trying to tell him.

“She had cancer. I wanted her to do the treatments but...” Steve stopped to wipe the tears from his face. “She said it was her time to go.”

And then Steve and Bucky clung to each other as they became a sobbing mess. Wanda came in and they looked at her to see she had been crying as well. Everyone in the palace that day... that had been a part of the Avengers when you were there, even for that brief time. They felt the pain of your loss in the two super soldiers. Men out of their time but a pain that could be felt across generations.

A/N: Okay, so I’ve never actually cried while writing something but wow!! I remember thinking about it when I watched CA: Civil War and I figured, why not share it with some other people.

#bucky x reader #soulmate #alternate universe #female!reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #peggy carter #aging #heartbreak