#I JUST LOVE HOW PROUD HE IS OF HOWARD

[imtryingbuck]

Eighteen part two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 2,240

Warnings: fluff, angst, heavy use of pet names.

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

A/N pt 2: when I saw the duck tattoo I screamed, no joke I screamed! Make sure you have a look it’s so bloody cute!

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

They spent the rest of the night and early hours of the morning apologising, promising to make up for their mistakes. All three guys crying when she told them how much they had broken her heart, the guilt still there front row and centre but she promised them that it was all forgiven.

Steve and Sam had begged for forgiveness for not being there for her but she reassured them that all was forgiven, that it was time to move on.

Even though all three of them had hurt her and they hadn’t done anything to help her when she needed at least one of them the most, she had forgiven them. She missed them more than anything, they were the other part of her fractured soul.

She didn’t want to hold any grudges against them.

For a whole month Y/n caught up with her boys, caused mayhem just as they did a few years ago.

It was as if nothing had changed.

They didn’t understand what was happening when they showed up to Howard’s and Maria’s house to take Y/n out for the day when she opened the door where they could see two suitcases by her side.

“Bun? You’re leaving again?”

“Yeah only for two months, going to travel with Nat and Wanda. Isn’t that so exciting?” She smiles.

“Yeah, yeah how come you didn’t tell us?”

“I was a bit busy catching up with you guys…”

“Is it going to be just you three?”

“No Pietro, Clint and Vis are coming too”

“Who’s Clint and Vis?”

“Clint’s Natasha’s boyfriend and Vis is Wanda’s”

“Will you be coming back?” Steve asked.

“Yeah of course, then I’ll start my new job. I can’t wait”

“What job?”

“You know Mr Stan? Well he’s given me a job as his accountant”

“I’m so proud of you Bun”

“Thanks Duck-“

“Y/n come on love we’ve got to go” Maria interrupts as she checks over the plane ticket and double checking that Y/n had enough money.

“Okay momma, give me a hug then boys”

For the two next two months Bucky was out of his mind. He wouldn’t sit still for long periods at a time. He had gotten a taste of the happiness he had for years, went without for three years and then he got it back just for it to leave with Y/n once again.

“Buck she’ll be home in a few days”

“It’s been too long man”

“Are you going to tell her?” Sam asks.

“Tell her what?”

“That you’re madly, hopelessly in love with her?” 

“No I’m not!”

“Yeah right and I’m Captain America” Steve snorted from the kitchen.

“I’m not in love with Bunny. And plus she’s got a boyfriend and I’m seeing…shit what’s her name?”

Sam burst out laughing, nearly sliding off the chair and Steve shook his head “Lily, Bucky her names Lily”

“Yeah I’m seeing Lily”

“How’s that going Buck?” Sam says as he calms down.

“Great, it’s going great”

“Bullshit she told Sarah that when you two fucked you kept calling her Y/n.”

“No he didn’t!” Steve gasped. Between me and you he already knew.

“Yeah and it’s pretty much the same with every girl he’s slept with, he calls them Y/n’s name” okay Steve hadn’t heard that before.

“Fuck off man, it’s not been with all of them” Bucky weakly tries to defend himself, again just between me and you what he just said was a big fat lie.

“L to the I to the A right down to the R, guess what that spells Buck… liar.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh and plus you have a bunny tattoo on your chest” It was true. On Bucky’s eighteenth birthday he went to the tattoo studio to get his first ever tattoo, he saw it in the book as he flipped through it halting his movements as he saw the cute bunny. It was a lot smaller but he asked the tattooist if he could have it bigger which the guy said yeah, Bucky had him also add the small love heart.

Over the year he got a few more added to his body but his bunny that sat just over his heart was his favourite of them all.

“Don’t mean I’m in love with her”

“Yes. Yes it does.”

“No. No it doesn’t.”

“Steve help me out here man” Sam begs.

“I’m not getting involved. But Bucky your in love with Y/n/n”

Groaning Bucky stands up “fuck you both I’m going out to see Lucy”

“Lily!”

“Yeah her, bye”

“I’m sorry Y/n” Pietro says wiping her tears.

“No it’s okay, I understand honestly”

“I just don’t want to hurt you baby”

“I know Pieface just don’t die please and please be safe”

Laughing sadly at the nickname she had given him he nods with a promise that he’ll be safe.

“I do love you Y/n/n”

“I love you too Pietro”

Giving one final long hug they separate from one another, she watches as he walks through the doors to the airport wiping her fallen tears she smiles and waves at him as he looks back at her, giggles fall from her lips as he pulls a funny face to her.

“Won’t you be able to see him in a few months?” Wanda asks softly.

Shaking her head Y/n shrugs “h-he broke up with me”

“You what?”

“Yeah, he said he doesn’t want to hold me back and wants me to live my life whilst he’s away”

Pietro had told her a few weeks before coming back home that he signed up for the Army and had been accepted. Though he did love her he didn’t want her staying at home worrying about him, he wanted her to experience life and who knows when he got back they could rekindle their relationship, though Pietro knew it was unlikely. He knew that Y/n loved him but he also knew that she was in love with Bucky, and for him there was no way he was going to get in the way of her happiness even if that wasn’t with him and to be truthful he was okay with it.

“Y/n/n I’m sorry”

“Don’t be, it’s fine honestly. Let’s go home I’m missing my bed.”

“I still can’t believe you’re not coming to college with us” Nat says as she pulls on her seatbelt yanking it a little to hard when it gets stuck.

“I know but it’s just not for me you know”

“It’s not going to be the same” Wanda says.

“I guess but you two can’t get another me to add in to your friendship group or I’ll cry”

“Definitely not happening, if another female tries to be our friend we’ll kick them” Nat says seriously.

“Don’t kick them Jesus that’s a bit harsh, just say “no you can’t be our friend because we already have the bestest one” but please don’t kick them”

“I’m kicking them”

Saying her goodbyes as she’s dropped off at home her eyes start to sting with the amount of tears she’s cried. They all promise that they’ll meet up as soon as they can.

As she tells her parents of her adventures and shows them all the photos she had taken, she hands them their gifts.

“You didn’t have to get us anything angel” Howard says loving the pyramid paperweight she had gotten him.

“Alright I’ll take them back”

“Touch it and I’ll bite you”

Gasping she looks at her mom “momma did you just hear what he said?”

“I did sweetie but I have to agree your not taking these back” admiring the snow globe she had gotten, already knowing exactly where it was going, adding it to the collection she had been collecting since she was twenty.

“Where’s Antonio?”

“I’ve told you time and time again not to call me that, hey baby sis” hugging his sister he checks the bag for his gift.

“It’s not in there Tone, it’s outside”

“What have you gotten me?”

“A car”

“Holy shit! Really? I knew there was a reason why I kept you around”

“Yep come on” Her, Tony, Howard and Maria make their way outside.

“Whe-what the hell is this Y/n?”

“A car” she laughs along with her parents as Tony picks up a toy car off the ground. “I brought you a car”

“You’re such a little shit!” He laughs along. “Oh nice new tat”

“Cheers”

“You got another one?” Maria asks wanting to see it.

“Yeah it’s a turtle his names Sid, isn’t he cute?”

“Sid?” Howard questions.

“Yeah, we went to a sea life centre and we got to meet Sid the turtle, so naturally I had to add him to the collection”

“Obviously” Tony rolls his eyes.

“Anyway I’m going to go to the boy’s apartment and give them their gifts see you later”

“Be careful!” Maria calls out.

Panting as she knocks on the door she nearly collapses into Sam’s arms when he opens the door.

“Jesus Y/n, Holy shit guys Y/n’s back!”

“I can taste blood in my mouth is-is that normal?” She asks.

“Are you alright?”

“No Samuel I’m not alright I’ve just walked up a trillion stairs just to get here! Why do you have to live so far up?”

“It’s easier when the elevator works” he grins.

“Hey Y/n/n” Steve says hugging her.

“Hi Stevie”

The three of them hear hurried footsteps coming towards them and when they look they see Bucky rushing down the hallway “shit, Bunny you’re back! I nearly fell in the shower trying to rush to get out” he pants pulling her into a bone crushing hug.

“I-I-I’m sorry but…Ducky…”

“What’s up Bun?” He follows her eye line and he’s realised his mistake. In his rush he managed to pull on some shorts but no shirt.

Meaning that she can see the bunny tattoo.

And unbeknownst to either one, they don’t realise that Sam and Steve have their eyes trained on the tattoo she has on the top of her spine.

“That’s a bunny” she points of the obvious.

“Yeah, yeah it is”

“Why?”

“For you”

“When did you get it done?”

“On my eighteenth birthday”

“And it’s for me?” Watching as he nods “can I?” He nods again to the unspoken part of her question, his skin tingles as she reaches out and runs her fingers over the delicate lines.

“Oh Duck it’s beautiful”

“Your hiding your own little secret aren’t you Y/n” Sam smiles.

“What are they talking about Bun?”

“I-um-I got this done on my eighteenth birthday” she says turning in his hold to show him her tattoo.

“Bun, it’s us. Can I?” It’s her turn to nod at his unspoken words she gasps lightly when his cold fingers trace the lines, he’s so mesmerised by the details and polka dots that he simply couldn’t stop touching it. “Bun it’s so beautiful”

“It was my first tattoo, obviously”

“So was mine”

“I actually feel really left out” Sam admits wrapping his arms around Steve’s “Stevie they don’t love us”

“That’s not true because-“ she rolls her sleeves up to her elbows and shows them the tattoos she had gotten for them ‘♡ S.R ♡ ♡ S.W ♡’ with a love heart on the top of her forearms. Not batting an eye at the scars the two boys lean in as Bucky leans over her shoulder.

“Who’s who?” Sam grins “but Y/n you actually got our initials tattooed on you?”

“Your obviously SR idiot and yeah of course I did, these were my second tattoos”

“B-but we weren’t friends at the time” Steve says as he eyes the long jagged scars.

“Well you three were a massive parts of my life and the reason why I got the duck and bunny on my back was because Bucky was the first person to see the scars once they where heeled and he never once judged me so”

“Y/n…”

“Anyways you want your presents, I’m like Santa but less cool” she moves out of Bucky’s hold and makes her way over to her bag and started to pull out the gifts, laughing as Sam stands there with his eyes closed and hands out stretched. Steve shakes his head at the guy.

Bucky, well his eyes are trained on his Bunny.

He knew he was in love with her since he was fourteen and now he wonders if she feels the same. 

“So how’s you and Peter doing?” Bucky asks as they wait for Steve and Sam to come back with the pizzas.

“Pietro, and he broke up with me”

“What? Why?”

“He joined the Army and he said he didn’t want me to be waiting around on him, that it wasn’t fair for him to do that to me so yeah”

“Bun I’m sorry”

“It’s okay, I actually understand why he did it you know? And there’s no hard feelings about it.”

When the boys got back laughter filled the apartment as the boys filled her in on what they had been up to during them two months she wasn’t with them and her telling them about her adventures.

It was way past midnight when Sam stretched and looked over at Y/n and Bucky curled up on the couch fast asleep.

“Steve, how long you think she’s been in love with him?” He whispered so he wouldn’t wake the pair up.

“I think just as long as he’s been with her”

And Steve was right.

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#marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barns x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #marvel fic #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fluff #Through The Years #bucky barnes angst #bucky series #bucky barnes fanfiction #james Barnes #james barnes x you #Bucky Barnes female reader #bucky barnes friends to lovers

[stxrvel]

i don't wanna live forever (1)

summary: reader couldn't stop having deaths in her life ever since the Supersoldier serum came into her life. no matter how hard she tried to stay sane, it seemed that life didn't want to give her a break. until, one afternoon, she learned that one of her old friends was alive… (you guys know im bad at summaries, but please give this one a chance)

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4.5k

warnings: angst, major character deaths, canon deaths¿?, bad words, english is not my first language! thoughts of revenge and death, this is like an introductory chapter, so the buckyxreader interaction is low, but it'll get better, i promise!

note: holy fuck guys. i just spent like five hours writing and editing this and i fucking love it. its been a while since ive been this proud of a work, im actually scare the emotion will disappear, but i really want to rejoice in this one. i wanted to write something a little different from my usuals, maybe a little common in the fanfiction world, but i started and i simply could not stop (or maybe just approach this bucky fic from another perspective). so this is the first part and i'll try with all my heart to keep this going because it was fucking insane, at least for me. i really hope you all like this as much as i do! feel free to leave any comment! thanks always for all the support!! see you next time <3

part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4

When you went into the Supersoldier serum project with Steve, you thought you were going to change the world. Of course, at that time when technology was relatively new any invention felt like the beginning of a new era. That's how it was all sold to you and it was how you expected everything to turn out… Until you realized that it was all really a waste of effort and time.

They were just propaganda for war. Not to stop it, to promote it. To motivate it.

You tried, on several occasions, not to think too much about it. You tried to stay out of it as Steve sometimes asked you to, even though even he didn't want to, as Bucky asked you to when you lay on his shoulder to cry in the little time you had free between trips. It was a great burden of guilt and helplessness.

Until you and Steve, with the almost imposed help of Peggy and Howard, rescued Bucky from the evil hands of Johann Schmidt and his nefarious organization, HYDRA, that, unbeknownst to you, would haunt you for a long time to come. It was only after that, after spending several sleepless days on edge thinking about what might be happening to Bucky, that you and Steve were finally able to go out and contribute something. Destroy HYDRA and the Red Skull's plans.

Of course, you realized that not everything could go right when, the one mission you couldn't attend, Bucky didn't return. And then Steve didn't come back either.

“Do you think this will ever end?” you had asked Bucky the day before his last mission.

“Of course it will,” he had answered without hesitation, moonlight illuminating his clear eyes, squeezing your hand as if it was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. “And after that we can begin to live as it should be.”

But there was no after that, because you never recovered from losing him. From losing them both.

“Are you okay?” Peggy approached, in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was streaming through the stained glass windows of the church, illuminating the spot where Steve's empty coffin had been, because they didn't even find his body. They didn't even think there was any of it left.

You barely moved your head to acknowledge her presence, moving the prayer slip they had recited throughout the mass between your hands. Your eyes were crystallized, in tears that no longer even made the effort to flow, because you had already spent too many days and nights crying. Peggy had been on the other side of the church, sitting next to Howard while the priest spoke, because you had refused to be near them in those moments. You didn't want to be near them.

“As well as one can be,” you slurred, finding that it had been a long time since you'd last used your voice for anything other than cursing and crying disconsolately.

The people had already left, probably an hour or more ago. The empty coffin had already been brought out, all the flower arrangements had been picked up, and the priest was preparing for the evening mass. You knew you had to leave, you knew Peggy and Howard were there waiting for you, but you felt stuck at that moment. You didn't want to leave, you didn't want to get ahead, you didn't want that life if it had to be this cruel.

You heard Peggy's sigh, before she took a seat next to you, a short distance away, averting her gaze to look at Christ on the cross.

You didn't know if you were selfish to be so closed off to your friends at this moments, because they must be grieving as much as you were, but you didn't know how to deal with the future possibilities. Bucky and Steve, great men and soldiers, one even with enhanced abilities, had not been able to make it through the punishment of war. What if Peggy and Howard were the same? What if they too had the cruel fate of dying at the hands of injustice? Could you deal with that? With everyone gone?

Maybe you could open up to them a little more because if not, who else? Turning away from them was not going to ensure their survival in this hate-filled society. Maybe you could protect them, like you couldn't protect Steve and Bucky. Maybe you could make a difference, because you had the chance to.

“You know,” Peggy spoke again, rearranging herself on the bench and crossing her legs, “Steve always knew this was how it would end.”

Her wistful, mournful, fragile voice sent a shiver through your body. Peggy didn't consider herself someone to show herself vulnerable in front of others no matter how close they were, even in those things that hurt her the most, in those things that affected her personally and made her eyes water instantly, she always tended to shut down. And at that moment you didn't dare interrupt her because you knew it would probably be the only time she would talk about Steve in a long time.

“Sometimes we'd talk, between tour trips, and he would tell me that wasn't what he wanted to do, even when he had to convince you otherwise,” her clasped hands would occasionally squeeze between words, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He didn't know if he'd made the right decision.”

You could almost picture him, backstage at the foot of the stairs with that notebook he carried everywhere and wouldn't let go, Peggy at his side nostalgic, as helpless as the others. It reminded you of the times you'd had similar conversations with Bucky, desperate to find a purpose, a way through so much fog.

“The first time I saw him so sure of himself was when he asked us to help them look for Bucky,” she mumbled his name, as if trying not to scare you away by saying it too loudly. “Ever since then it seemed like he'd found that spark…”

“Until Bucky died,” you whispered, the words cutting through the cold and silence, Peggy shifting on the bench contritely.

“He lost something of himself from that day on, it wasn't hard to tell. The next time I heard him so sure after spending days lost, it was on that call from the plane.”

Peggy paused, raising her hand to cover her mouth as her voice faltered. You turned to look at her, wishing you could rip the pain from her soul and leave it in yours. She was trying to contain her emotions, breathing deeply, and in that moment you wondered what life might be like from now on, with the specter of grief following you around, waiting for the next time the dead knocked on your doors, unexpectedly, without allowing you to say goodbye.

“He had told me he wouldn't die in peace until he could get it all over with. And he took it all with him. And I hated him so much for it…” Peggy sobbed, her labored breathing standing out between words. She kept looking straight ahead at the stained glass windows, the expression on her face hard and scowling despite having tears rolling down her cheeks, as if she were trying to blame something for what had happened. Her reproachful eyes fixed on the Christ.

Her wails echoed through the walls of the church, the father on the dais sending them a look of sorrow. He had offered you water, thirty minutes after everyone at Steve's wake had left, when they kept walking, and you stood there.

Another empty casket.

“Ladies,” Howard's voice reached your ears amidst all the physical and emotional numbness. You could barely notice Peggy wiping under her eyes with the pocket square that was surely part of Howard's suit, as she took breaths to get up. “We should go now.”

You heard him walk, his slow, careful steps stopping just behind you. There, on his feet with his chest tight, he rested a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support. He knew it was the most you would allow him at a time like this, deciding not to pass up the opportunity to let you know he was there. You sighed, feeling a heaviness take over your body as you stood up.

“Yeah, let's go.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Maybe too fast, maybe too slow, you weren't sure anymore.

Peggy continued to work at the Strategic Science Reserve for a couple of years, calling you from time to time to help her with some jobs. You kept a low profile, practically a fugitive from the state, while trying to live a halfway normal life in Europe. A lot of it thanks to Howard really.

Life had become a rather monotonous routine when you stopped getting so many calls from Peggy and Howard several years later. You knew they were fine, but not being able to return to the country filled you with anguish every day. And trying to lead a normal life became too complicated when you looked in the mirror and it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in that capsule of Dr. Erskine's with Steve.

Until Peggy called one day asking you to come back. She told you that it was safe, that there would be no state officials waiting for you at the airport, but even if that had been the situation, you wouldn't have hesitated for a second to buy the first plane ticket and fly to see them again. To Howard and Peggy, to melt into an embrace, longing for the lost years.

You had thought that contributing to the fight in World War II had earned you a ticket to at least be recognized in the military, but all you gained was the government with their mad scientists looking for you to try to recreate the Supersoldier serum. Peggy didn't want to risk you and Howard gave you no choice by giving you a plane ticket to Finland with your bags packed.

You wasted many years not being by their side, unable to keep the promise you had made them in your head to be close by to protect them, to watch over their safety.

But when you left the airport there was only Peggy, and maybe that should've told you everything.

Her hair already looked gray, the effects of gravity and time present on her face. You hated to think that you shouldn't have looked any different from the way she saw you last time when she waved you off at that same airport. Her warm gaze was the same, raising her arms with held back tears to encircle you in a big hug. She tried hard not to sob against your shoulder, you felt the choppy movement of her breath against your chest.

She looked so different and the same at the same time.

You walked to her car a moment later, her trying to carry your suitcase and you telling her you were perfectly fine carrying it on your own. Amidst a smile, she walked into the driver's door and you frowned as you saw the empty passenger seat.

“Where's Howard?” you spoke as you sat down, after stowing the huge suitcase in the trunk of the car. The way you moved to buckle up, you didn't notice the way Peggy froze in place, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that her breath hitched from the effort.

“We're going to see him,” was all she said, but she was very good at hiding that something was wrong. Only for a little while.

During the trip, even though you tried to ask things about them, about what they had been doing during this time, you didn't miss the way her shoulders were tense or her eyes very alert. Something bad had happened and Peggy was trying to hide it from you.

When she pulled up in front of a church, you already knew what had happened without her answering a single one of your questions.

Howard had died.

You two had sat next to Howard's son Tony, his spitting image, in complete silence as the prayers went on. At that moment you didn't know what had happened, hoping it had been a quiet and peaceful death, because you didn't know if you would be able to endure another violent death.

Peggy gave you all the details when the mass was over, after the coffin was taken away, and you hadn't felt such fury in so many years. Not since the deaths of Bucky and Steve had that adrenaline rush of anger returned to run through your body as violently as it did at that moment, when Peggy told you that he had been murdered along with his wife. All to steal some prototypes of Dr. Erskine's serum. The damned serums with which everything had started.

This time there was a body in the coffin, but there was also a culprit. Someone to point the finger at and take it out on for years of anguish and pain.

You were at Peggy's house, staying for a few days, when she told you that wasn't all.

Peggy had a suspicion that HYDRA hadn't disappeared when Steve crashed that plane into the ice. Her suspicions generated panic in you, because Bucky and Steve had died for that, now apparently Howard, only for it all to have been for nothing. The feeling of carnage that ran through your whole head made you nauseous, years of helplessness and pain pent up in such a small body had to find its way out somehow.

“It was a man, according to the information I've been able to gather,” Peggy spoke, taking a seat across from you in the dining room of her living room, after pouring you a glass of lemonade. “He didn't die from the crash. He had a concussion. He was hit in the head. His wife died from asphyxiation.”

“Does Tony know?”

“No,” Peggy shook her head quickly, one hand over her heart as if the mere thought caused her physical pain. “It didn't even occur to me to tell him something like that.”

“And he was looking for the serum,” you recalled, a bitter feeling planted in the back of your throat, the memories of the disastrous times during the war coming back into your head like a blinding flash.

“He took them. We don't know who he is or who he works for, but whoever they are, they must have been following us for a long time to know about them.”

“You mean years,” you arched an eyebrow, your fingers touching the cool exterior of the glass seeking some reassurance.

“Possibly. That project isn't recent,” Peggy nodded, drinking her lemonade with a grimace. You stared at the liquid almost finished from her glass, a wrinkle forming between your brows with each passing second and you kept wondering why.

“But what the fuck was going through that asshole's head?” you spat angrily. Rage at already the amount of lives that serum had taken with it and at Howard's recklessness. Rage at the reaper who seemed to be following in their footsteps for some reason, rage at that damn man and whoever his damn boss was.

“It was the only option, Y/N,” Peggy turned her gaze, meeting your eyes with a strange glint.

“What do you mean?” you were almost afraid to ask, your friend's gaze suddenly turning evasive. You watched her run her fingernails over the glass of the tumbler, lost for a moment in thought. The way her shoulders slumped forward in defeat caused a pressure in your chest that made it hard to breathe. Peggy shouldn't be going through these things at this point in life.

“Howard was working with the Pentagon, as a contractor or something. They had found you. Howard felt cornered and they made him sign an agreement.”

With your incredulous look on her face, Peggy didn't dare look back at you for a few seconds. So much had happened since you had left and it seemed that you had only been told about the things you weren't going to care about so much. But if you had known that you wouldn't have cared much about giving some of the state officials their comeuppance. You would've liked Howard to trust you enough to tell you, not live in as much fear behind his back as the last few years must've been. You didn't like the way Peggy's lips curved downward, as if she, too, would've preferred to make another decision had she known this was how it was going to end.

“Howard assured them that he could recreate the serum, and told them he would as long as they left you alone.”

“Fucking asshole…” you closed your eyes, scrubbing your face with your hands. The rough skin of your hands rubbed against the delicate skin of your face, years of combat and mistreatment foreseeing a harshness that reminded you every day of what you'd had to go through to get to that moment.

“I only found out about it after it happened. I didn't see it for like a whole week,” Peggy shook her head slightly, her eyes glistening in the pain of the memories. You shook your head hard, a more violent reaction than you could have anticipated.

“That stupid… stupid asshole! What the fuck made him think I couldn't defend myself?”

“He was trying to do the right thing,” Peggy finally searched your eyes, meeting the red rims that told her you were holding back too hard breaking in front of her, only using that pain mixed with rage to keep you sane.

“And look how that turned out!”

Peggy stretched her hand across the table, with a pleading look asking you to lower your voice, averting her gaze to the hallway. You followed her gaze, for a second forgetting where you were, forgetting that her family was with you behind the doors where you were plunged into darkness. It was past midnight.

You took a second to calm yourself, trying to drown out the uncontrolled emotions and taking deep breaths to calm your fluttering heart.

“And if what you theorize is true…” you regretted the moment those words left your mouth; you didn't even want to finish the sentence.

“Do you think it is?”

“I don't want to,” you shook your head instantly, closing your eyes, the thought sounding illogical inside your head. Your hands on your chest trying to contain the storm of feelings that was making chaos inside your head. “That would mean that everything we did, everything Bucky, Steve and Howard did and sacrificed, was in vain. It will all have been in vain.”

You spent several weeks with that thought in your head, working hand in hand with Peggy, and the organization you barely knew as SHIELD, to track down the whereabouts of the killer of Tony's parents and the one responsible because the Supersoldier's serums were, surely, in the wrong hands.

And yes, it was many years of fruitless missions and dead ends, with you running every field mission and Peggy calling the shots from the New York facility. Every time you felt close to discovering something, it seemed that the enemy rejoiced in your failures and still couldn't understand how they were always three steps ahead.

However, you had to leave the missions when Peggy became ill.

The silent, lethal Alzheimer's.

During the first months in the hospital, she still recognized you. She also recognized her husband and children. But after the first year, she frowned every time her children walked through the door. After a year and a half, her husband had to remind her that they had been married for about forty years.

After two years, she was still only remembering you, Howard, Steve and Bucky. Her whole life during her time in the army was all you talked about, sometimes you would tell her how much more time had passed than she remembered and always, without fail, she would ask you how much you had done in Europe for so long by yourself.

She cried every time she remembered Howard's death. She cried every time she remembered her children. Out of her mouth came a thousand apologies that no one would accept, because there was nothing anyone could do to prevent what had to happen. You wished she had been a serum test subject instead of you.

For several years, missions to find Tony's parents killer were sporadic because you spent more time around Peggy than at the SHIELD facility. She was the only thing you had left of everything you'd ever had, of when you held the world in your hands. She was the last thing keeping you tethered to that reality, keeping madness from flooding your reason. How could you have so many years ahead of you when that was all you had to live for? A life full of the dead, full of pain and suffering. What kind of karma were you paying for?

You were leaving the SHIELD facility, after another failed mission, when Nick Fury stopped you in front of the exit. You almost rolled your eyes right under his watchful gaze, tired of having to meet him anywhere, and exhausted from his comments about this vengeance project or whatever he wanted you to be a part of.

You still didn't know how, being such an exemplary agent, Coulson had fallen into his nets.

“Miss L/N,” the man stopped you with his words, his hands behind his back and a tense stance that caught your attention.

“Fury,” you nodded in his direction, hoping he'd be quick because you were running late for your weekly visit with Peggy. “Do you need anything?”

“I'd like you to come with me somewhere,” Fury approached tentatively, his one eye fixed on your wary expression, which shifted to boredom the moment you thought you knew what he wanted.

“If this is about that project, I've told you a thousand times-”

“No,” he interrupted you, moving forward and removing his hands from behind his back. “It's not related to that. I really want you to come with me.”

“You look agitated, but I need-”

“I'll take you to see Peggy myself after this.”

You didn't like that he knew your routine, even though you weren't doing enough to hide it from the other agents. But Fury looked nervous, even though he was hiding it very well, trying to keep his cool as he looked for ways to convince you.

You figured it wouldn't be a big deal for you to go off the deep end for once. After all, Peggy never remembered you were going to see her.

You set off in Fury's armored vans, not quite sure where you were going, but sure that it was urgent, because he had taken it upon himself to let his driver know that you had to get there as soon as possible.

You took that time on the trip to come up with a new strategy for the next mission because what you were doing up to that point wasn't working and you felt too close to throwing in the towel, figuratively speaking. You could spend years following a ghost, but you wouldn't give up on finding Howard and Maria's killer.

Before the car pulled up to one of SHIELD's secret sections, they passed the giant, imposing Stark Tower. You never saw Tony again after that time at his parents' funeral, not even during his visits to Peggy because you always made it a point not to cross him. You didn't think you'd be able to look him in the eye while you knew his parents had been killed without being able to tell him. You had promised Peggy in her lucid moments that you wouldn't tell him anything until you could find the culprit. You didn't want to initiate that pain if it had to be kept repressed, as yours once was, and probably still is. You had learned, some time after the funeral, that he was living with Edwin Jarvis, and you were glad to know that he would have good companionship to keep him company in such hard times.

Fury, a handful of agents and you entered the vans through the entrance to what appeared to be the parking lot of an old warehouse. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the number of armed agents that seemed to be guarding the place, not at all discreet to how SHIELD used to do things. You weren't sure if Peggy would authorize something like that, but you couldn't question the Director's decisions. It wasn't your place.

“What's going on here?” you frowned, watching as every meter there was another agent and another agent. You got out of the car without waiting for an answer from Fury, moving directly toward the entrance where most of the agents were concentrated. You barely noticed their looks in contradiction, running their eyes over you and then over the man trying to catch up to you, dubious as to whether or not they should move. “Move.”

“Wait,” Fury's voice stopped the command in the agents, who turned back to look at you as you sent Fury a confused look.

“What's all this mystery, Nicholas?” the man startled almost discreetly at your tone of voice, the agents stirring uncomfortably, but kept the serene expression that was getting on your nerves. “What the fuck did you do?”

“We got a call from the Arctic.”

“From the Arctic?”

You tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck instantly stood up, your body alerting you to something your mind still couldn't comprehend. You felt like a deer face to face with a predator, expecting the worst.

“The Colonel informed us of something that might interest us,” Fury's cryptic voice echoed in your ears, drowning out the flicker of uncertainty vibrating from your head to your toes. “They found a plane.”

You didn't even answer him. Your heart began to pound wildly, cornered, ready to have your head bitten off. The tension in your shoulders intensified, with the involuntary movement of your hands as you broke into a cold sweat. The mere implication of his words caused an emptiness in your stomach, a sense of longing and fear you hadn't felt before.

You looked at Fury, trying to find in his gaze the gleam of a lie, but there was nothing there but assurance. There was nothing but recognition and understanding in his gaze, but that didn't make the emptiness in your stomach and the tight chest go away. It didn't make the feeling of being outside your body go away.

You barely remembered to move in the direction of the door, the agents instantly moving out of your way, pushing it so hard that one of them flew out. You moved your eyes around every corner of the room, the cream-colored walls generating a great repulsion in you. And there, in the midst of all the confusion and the storm, a confused and disgruntled face looked back at you. A face you never thought you would see again.

Steve Rogers was standing a few feet away from you, barely comprehending what was happening around him and instantly recognizing you. Your chest compressed once again, the tears you held back for so many years even in your loneliness making their own way into your eyes, endangering to end that mask you wore everywhere you went.

Steve was actually there, looking back at you with his eyes shining in recognition. You didn't know if he was as surprised as you were to react or you looked so bad that he didn't know if he should approach you or not. You just knew it was him, it really was him right there in front of you. He wasn't dead. Steve wasn't dead. He was alive. Ah, he was so alive.

The broken sob that suddenly left you was loud enough to make your friend shed his stupefaction and stride over to where you were. You barely managed to cover your face, between sobs, wails and disbelief, feeling your knees give out, surrendering to the weight of the pain, when his strong arms grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor. Preventing your fall, as you had wished so many times before.

You cried against his shoulder, when feeling him against your body you knew there was no doubt it was true. You moved your hands away from your face, wrapping them around his waist as tightly and lovingly as you hadn't hugged anyone in so long. Surely the last time you hugged someone like that was when you saw Peggy on your way back from Europe.

Steve wasn't far behind, his arms around your shoulders just as tightly, his chin against the crown of your head, moving from side to side trying to hold back the loud sobs that shook your body.

You couldn't believe it, but it was true, he was right in front of you.

Steve was alive. He had come back to your side. You didn't even want to ask why.

And there was nothing else you could think about for the rest of your life.

#stxrvel talks #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky barnes angst #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier #steve rogers

[literaryavenger]

Broken - bonus part

Summary: It's been a year since Bucky moved in and now it's his turn to help you, only problem is you won't let him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N. Language. A lot of fluff. Eating disorder. Angst.

Word Count: 7.8K

A/N: I made this bonus part to explore more about the eating disorder that was hinted in the first couple of chapters. I had plans to incorporated in the story when I was planning on making it longer, but with how it went it didn't feel like there was a place for it. I'd like to thank @ordelixx for giving me the idea for this additional part. Hope you enjoy it, I'm always open to more ideas so feel free to spam in my inbox or messages, know I always appreciate it! also sorry it took me so long to finish this but I started it and then kind of lost inspiration :(

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Masterlist

It’s been a year since Bucky arrived at the tower and about 11 months since his hearing.

As conditioned by his pardon he’s been going to therapy, he’s been training with the team and has been doing more and more missions, on probation, but still he’s been doing better than ever.

Even Tony had to admit that the more time he spent with Bucky the more the super soldier grew on him.

If a few months ago he begrudgingly spent time with the super soldier at your request, if anything to spend time with you too since you’re still inseparable, now Tony actively seeks him out; wanting to study his new vibranium arm, testing his gadgets since he got hurt less easily than the others. Or sometimes simply to talk about things like astronomy after Tony found out about Bucky’s interest in the subject.

They’ve even had a few conversations on Howard and his friendship with the sergeant back in the 40s.

You're proud of all the progress Bucky’s made, and you appreciate the fact that getting more comfortable in the 21st century and becoming more confident didn’t make him pull away from you.

It's a fear you had, that maybe Bucky stuck to you because you were the first person after Steve that made him feel safe, that the more people he got familiar with the more he was gonna pull away from you, not needing you as much anymore.

But, to your delight, Bucky’s still as touchy and clingy towards you as ever, if anything he's grown even more affectionate.

He never lets a day go by without telling you how much he loves you and appreciates you, kissing you any chance he gets and holding you tight every night in the room the two of you have been officially sharing the last few weeks since you’ve all moved to the new Avengers Compound upstate.

You love Bucky’s attention and you’re just as affectionate towards him as he is towards you. Everything was going great.

Until it wasn’t.

You’re on your way to your room, looking forward to seeing Bucky after a full morning of mission reports with Steve and then training with Natasha.

She obviously kicked your ass and you're exhausted, wanting nothing more than to be in his warm embrace for the rest of the day.

Thankfully, it’s friday afternoon and you have no new missions which means your weekend is wide open.

You stop on your tracks when you hear your name being mentioned in a conversation right around the corner.

You recognize one of the voices as Sharon Carter, one of the agents of Shield that lives and works at the compound the Avengers now reside in.

You don’t know why you stop to listen in on the conversation, you’re not really one to eavesdrop, but something about her tone makes your legs refuse to move towards her direction. Which just so happens to be the way towards the Avengers only part of the building.

Your stomach drops when you hear the other girl’s next sentence.

"And can you believe she got Sergeant Barnes to date her?" Sharon groans before answering.

"Of course she did, he was all broken and vulnerable and she was like the first person he met at the tower. He obviously got attached to the first person that was nice to him, otherwise how do you think a girl like her could ever have a chance with him?" she says matter-of-factly. 

"You’re right, I mean he’s probably still with her just out of habit. He’s too nice to hurt her feelings." the other girl says, giggling.

"Exactly." Sharon agrees, laughing with her friend. "I mean, he’d never go for her if he met her today. He’d probably be flirting his way through the actually pretty girls that live around here, like you and me."

You can hear their laughter growing louder as they get closer to where you are frozen on your spot and feel yourself starting to panic.

You can’t face them right now, the only thing on your mind is finding a place to hide in.

You see a door behind you and you sprint to it, reaching it, running inside and closing the door softly in record time. You press your ear up against it and can hear the muffled laughter and some more comments on you and Bucky.

When they’re finally far enough that you can’t hear them, you let yourself relax, pressing your back against the door and looking into the dark closet you’re hiding in while you let their words really sink in, your brain working overtime to make sure you didn’t misheard or misinterpreted anything.

Once you’re sure you indeed heard everything correctly, tears start to form in your eyes.

Is that really what people think? That Bucky’s just with you because he pities you?

You’ve always known Bucky was beautiful, definitely the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life, and you’ve always known he was out of your league.

You know you’re by no means thin, but you also don’t consider yourself fat, especially not after all the work that it took you to get to a place where you have a healthy relationship with your body.

Yes, you still have your doubts and insecurities, but that’s just in your head.

Although here you are, hiding in a supply closet, tears streaming down your face, because there are actual people outside of your head that see your flaws too.

One thing is to wonder about this stuff in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep, the voices in your head taking over, but to hear those same thoughts coming out of someone else’s mouth hit you hard.

You don’t even know how long you stay hidden, but at some point you snap out of it and dry your tears, opening the door and making the way to your room.

It feels like only a second passes and then you’re opening the door of yours and Bucky’s room. You make a beeline for the bathroom, barely acknowledging your boyfriend when he greets you as you lock the bathroom door behind you.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow at your cold shoulder, immediately getting worried. He gets up from the bed and knocks on the door of the bathroom calling out for you. "Everything okay?"

You can hear the concern in his voice and it only makes you feel worse as you find yourself wondering if he’s actually worried or just that good at pretending.

You look at your reflection in the mirror and all of a sudden you feel nauseous but you barely have time to realize it’s not just in your head when you’re suddenly throwing up in the toilet.

Bucky’s more worried than ever as he hears you be sick from the other side of the door. "Doll, I need you to talk to me or I will break down the door."

He knows it may not be the ideal thing to say, but his concern outweighs his rational thinking when you stop making sounds as he still hasn't heard your voice and is worried you might’ve passed out.

"I’m okay." your voice is quiet, but at least you’re conscious. 

"Can you open the door for me, doll?" He can hear you sigh and shuffle a bit, probably getting up. Then he hears the faucet of the sink being turned on as you splash some water on your face.

He’s a little calmer now, patiently waiting for you and he lets out a little breath of relief when he hears the lock click.

You open it reluctantly, trying your best to look normal, but Bucky can see right through you.

"What’s wrong, baby?" he brings his hands to your cheeks and you can’t help but lean into them for a second before you grab his wrists and gently lower his hands, his face more worried than before.

"I’m fine, Bucky." you say, your voice almost emotionless.

"You were just throwing up. You’re not fine." it takes all of him not to reach for you again, not wanting to cross your boundaries.

"It’s nothing. Maybe I’m just sick. I’ll take a shower, it’ll make me feel better." You don’t give him time to respond as you close the door and lock it again, starting the shower.

Bucky feels like he can barely breathe, your behavior making him more worried than he’s been since the 40s and he had to take care of sickly little Steve.

Youìve never acted like this with him, when you were sick or even grumpy from your period you usually became clingy and wanted him around even more than you usually do. But he gives you the benefit of the doubt.

If you were sick this wasn’t the moment to think about himself. He has to take care of you first and he can ask more later you when you're feeling better.

With new resolve he heads towards the kitchen, determined to get everything you might need to make you feel better.

You stay in the shower for over an hour, trying to avoid Bucky as much as you can, but you know you had to get out and face him eventually.

When you come out of the bathroom you find him sitting in the desk chair, the desk full of things you’re pretty sure weren’t there when you entered the room.

Bucky's on his feet and coming towards you in a second, your favorite pair of pajamas in his hand.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks you softly, worry still present on his features.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, taking the clothes and changing as fast as you can, a small ‘I’m fine’ leaving your lips. 

"What's all of this?" you ask, stepping around him and walking towards the desk.

"Oh, I just brought you some things to make you feel better." He can't help himself as he wraps his arms around you from behind while you look through the things he brought you.

He got you all sorts of pain meds, your favorite snacks and drinks, your heating pad and your favorite comfort book.

You want to cry at the sight, but part of you can't help but doubt Bucky, even with how sweet he’s being.

You snap out of it when you feel Bucky give you a kiss on the shoulder and, suddenly, it all feels fake and it’s too much for you. 

You place your hands on his and move his arms away from you, then start heading towards the bed.

"I’m not hungry. I just want to sleep for a bit." That's all you say as you lay down and turn your back on him, tears threatening to fall down again.

You hear him sigh behind you. Then he moves around and you feel him lay a kiss on your head before he walks out the room shutting the lights on his way, wanting to give you the space you clearly want.

You aren't sure if you're glad you can cry yourself to sleep freely or worried that him walking out solidifies the voices in your head that are telling you that maybe Bucky really doesn’t love you.

When you wake up the next morning Bucky’s arms were wrapped around you from behind.

Usually being in his hold makes you feel safe but right now all you can concentrate on is the feeling of his hands on your belly and how disgusted he would be if he woke up and realized the position you were in, no matter how many times you've been like this.

You slip away from his embrace and go to change into work out clothes. You went to sleep pretty early yesterday so it was still early in the morning when you woke up.

You aren’t expecting to meet anyone yet but, once again, you're proven wrong by the shuffling coming from the kitchen as you make your way to grab a bottle of water.

You approach carefully without making a sound and when you peak around the corner you see Steve, probably back from a morning run, in front of the counter with his back to you and a water bottle in his hand.

You try to move as quietly as possible, even with enhanced hearing your skills have gotten so good you're able to sneak around the super soldiers when needed.

You decide to use the stairs to get to the gym, the door leading to them squeaking lightly. Steve turns around at the sound but seems to decide it was nothing as he shrugs and makes his way to his room.

You’ve been at the gym for a couple of hours, stopping only to grab water from the mini fridge, when the door opens and you hear Bucky’s voice.

"Hey doll, I’ve been looking for you everywhere." His voice sounds genuinely concerned. You have to give him props on his acting skills.

"Yeah, couldn’t sleep." You say without looking at him, barely stopping your punching of the bag in front of you.

"I thought you were sick." he’s slowly getting closer, you’d almost think he was trying to corner a scared animal.

"Clearly I feel better." you shrug, trying to end this conversation as fast as possible.

You feel his hand on your shoulder and finally stop, taking a deep breath before turning to face him.

His face looks more worried than you’ve ever seen it and it almost makes you forget your own concerns about the reality of your relationship.

Almost. 

"Maybe you should go visit Bruce, make sure everything’s okay." his eyes never leave your face and you try your best to hide any emotion but it’s always been too easy for him to read you so you shrug his hand from your shoulder, trying to put a little distance between you.

He looks genuinely hurt, but, again, what would you expect from a trained assassin? Pretending comes as naturally to him as breathing. 

"I’m fine, Bucky." you turn back to the bag and resume your punching. You’re so lost in your own thoughts you don’t even notice him walking out of the gym.

You work out some more before deciding it’s enough and go back to your room, thankful for the first time that Bucky’s not there.

After you shower and change again you find yourself with nothing to do and, for once, you wish you had paperwork to keep you occupied and give you an excuse to avoid everybody.

You grab your purse and make your way out, mumbling something about having errands to run in the city when you come across some people in the living room, basically running out of there so fast you can’t even tell who’s actually there watching tv.

You spend the whole day running around the city, not really having a destination but when the sun starts coming down you decide to head back.

When you enter the living room you can see everyone sitting at the kitchen table.

"Finally, you’re here! We can eat now." Sam shouts happily and you know you can’t escape this.

"Sorry, didn’t realize you were waiting on me." You say quietly while sitting down in the only free chair that’s unfortunately next to Bucky.

"It’s okay, koala bear." Steve smiles from your other side. "Bucky said you weren’t feeling great, so Wanda made your favorite."

You try to look excited while smiling and thanking Wanda as she and Vision place the food on the table. If she notices something is off, she doesn't say anything, just giving you a smile of her own in return.

"Where were you all day?" Tony asks you.

"The city." you simply say, trying to sound as casual as possible while making no attempt to look at him, or make eye contact with anyone else for that matter.

But Tony seems satisfied with your answer, taking your lack of conversation for tiredness and going back to talking to Clint.

You manage to avoid all conversations with nods and hums and you can feel Bucky’s gaze on you almost as it burns but you can’t find it in yourself to look back at him.

When you feel his hand coming to rest on top of yours on the table you feel like something inside you snaps and you get up abruptly, making everybody stop as they give you confused looks.

"Excuse me, I still don’t feel well. I think I’m gonna go to my room and rest." and, without giving anyone the chance to say anything, you walk away.

There’s a second of silence before the team seems to dismiss your behavior as grumpiness from feeling sick, after all the rare times that you do get sick you get very irritable.

Bucky seems to be the only one to notice your untouched food. 

After less than five minutes the door to your room opens and Bucky comes in, finding you sitting on the bed staring at nothing while being clearly lost in your head.

He makes his way to you and kneels down in front of you.

"What’s going on, doll?" He tries his luck again, putting a hand on your knee. He hopes that giving space all day allowed you to come around and now you’ll talk to him.

You prove him wrong by getting up, not even sparing him a glance, and making your way to the closet to try and busy yourself so you won’t have to look at him.

"Nothing." You offer nothing more and Bucky starts getting frustrated with you. 

"What is wrong with you today?" He knows something’s wrong. He knows you better than anyone, and he’s trying to be patient with you but you’ve never acted this cold towards him and it scares him.

"Nothing is wrong." You know you’re pushing it. You know you’re doing nothing to alleviate his worries, but you can’t help the feeling that he’s the one in the wrong.

He’s the one out of line, he’s the one that betrayed your trust and hurt you and toyed with your feelings and lied to you about his own. You had every right to be short with him.

Right?

"Something is obviously wrong, why won’t you just talk to me?!" He almost whines and you roll your eyes, your own unjustified irritation coming out.

"Oh, for the love of God, just give it a rest!" you almost yell, and the surprise you find in yourself is nothing compared to the one on Bucky’s face.

"What?" he’s almost whispering and the hurt in his voice for some reason just infuriates you more.

"Stop treating me like I’m made of glass! Not everyone is as needy as you, you know. I’m a grown ass adult and I don’t need you!" You can’t stop shouting, knowing full well you don’t mean a word you’re saying. But you want to hurt him as much as you’re hurting, as wrong as that is.

"Don’t you think I know that you don’t need me?!" He’s yelling too now, and you know you pushed the right button "I know damn well how strong you are, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still worry about you!"

"I don’t need you to worry about me!"

"Well, that’s too damn bad for you, because I love you and I want you to be okay!" God, even shouting he’s still being nice to you.

"Well, that’s too damn bad for you, because it’s none of your business if I’m okay!" Not the best response, but at this point you honestly have no idea of even control of what’s coming out of your mouth anymore.

"God, why are you being such a child about this?!" Bucky barely understands what’s going on right.

The two of you have never fought before, not so much as an argument, and now here you are in a yelling match that started because he's concerned about you.

"Oh boo freaking hoo, poor Bucky having to deal with a child! If you don’t like me just say so!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!" He’s beyond confused now.

"If you don’t want this," you gesture between the two of you "just leave! Go and find someone you actually like! Don’t stay with me just because you feel like you have to!"

"When did I ever say that? Are you out of your mind?!"

"Yes, I’m crazy! Now just leave me the fuck alone!" you yell at the top of your lungs and Bucky seems to freeze in his spot.

Assuming this is over, you turn around and climb into bed, your back to Bucky once again.

When you hear him sigh and start moving you feel like you’re reliving yesterday, except this time you don’t expect him to kiss you but just leave.

He turns off the lights, but you frown when you don’t hear the door, instead you feel the bed dip behind you. You tense up when Bucky’s arms wrap around you from behind, bringing you closer to him with your back pressed against his chest.

"I will choose you over everyone. Even on the days where we don’t understand each other." He whispers in your ear after a moment of silence and you can’t do anything to stop the tears that start coming out as you feel Bucky holding you tighter without saying another word.

You want to believe him, you really do. But Sharon’s voice in your head is like a net, not allowing you to fall fully into Bucky, not being able to accept that someone like him truly loves you.

So you start spending your days by yourself, avoiding people as much as possible.

Everytime you're in a room with someone all you can think about is how they're probably judging you, making just want to run away and hide.

But isolating yourself does nothing to ease your worries as you now spend all your time overthinking and hating on yourself.

You start pulling away from Bucky too and it's killing him.

You still won't talk to him, everytime you're together you pretend that everything's fine.

You put on a smile he knows is fake, really doing the bare minimum to keep a conversation going and when he touches you he always gets the feeling that you wanted nothing more than to slap his hands away.

But you always try to be discreet as you inch away from him with any excuse that comes to mind.

It's the change in your relationship with Bucky that starts to clue the team in on your behavior.

As much as they have fun giving you shit for it, they all admire your closeness and were happy that you found each other.

So they start paying more attention to you. Everybody can see something's wrong, but if you wouldn’t talk to Bucky about it, really what chance do they have?

It doesn't stop them from worrying though, seeing how you seem to waste away.

You spend too much time in the gym, losing weight at an alarming rate and not getting enough sleep to function, sometimes resulting in you falling asleep during meetings or on the mat at the gym.

But you refuse to let Bruce look at you. You refuse any help really, your temper shorter than ever as you end up snapping at people more often than not.

You try to keep it together, but it's obviously not working. The only thing you manage to do is avoiding meals without anyone noticing.

After weeks on end of this, the team decides to do something to try and cheer you up, taking the opportunity of your birthday coming up.

Steve manages to convince Tony to have a small party, just the team and agents of Shield, instead of one of his big parties full of strangers.

They're careful when they approach you with the subject, having taken to walking on eggshells around you. You can’t help feeling bad for the way you’ve been treating them, so you decide to be cool about the party, even knowing deep down you’ll regret it.

Natasha and Wanda offer to go shopping with you for a new dress for the occasion, but you decline their invitation.

You know they're trying to be nice, but just the thought of going from store to store, seeing all those beautiful, skinny women trying on pretty dresses you’d never be able to fit into, together with the two gorgeous redheads, it sounds like hell to you.

Which is why you ask the team to have a more informal dress code than usual, allowing you to dress as comfortable as you can be at the moment with loose fitting pants and a large hoodie.

You arrive at the party in the ballroom of the compound that Tony just had to have and are thankful to see everyone dress casually, most of the girls not even wearing dresses.

But you still try not to linger too long on their looks, not wanting to feel worse than you already do about your own appearance.

Arms wrap around your body and you hear Bucky wish you a happy birthday.

You give him a few seconds before you wiggle away from the embrace and turn around. You give Bucky your best fake smile and thank him before kissing him quickly on the cheek and walking away towards the bar to get some water.

You don't need to be getting drunk and throwing up more than you already do every time your stomach forces you to eat anything.

You spend the whole night going from person to person, trying not to talk to anyone too long and making sure to always keep moving to avoid too many questions.

You know it's only a matter of time before they start coming. Even Fury is present, worried about you ever since he had to take you off missions for passing out on the field.

Soon came the moment you’d been dreading most: Wanda comes toward you with your favorite cake with candles lit and everybody starts singing.

You know that with being the center of attention you won't be able to get away with not eating and the team would piece things together if you try, having already gone through this years ago.

Honestly, you're a little disappointed nobody had figured it out yet, but not entirely surprised as you told yourself everyone just didn’t care enough.

And why should they when you look the way you do?

Everyone cheers as you blow on the candles, fake smile still going strong. The cake is cut and everyone is enjoying Wanda’s culinary talent. You even manage to eat yours and keep it down without looking disgusted with yourself.

Everything was going great.

You're behind the bar now taking another water bottle from the mini fridge when you accidentally knock over a glass full of straws that was thankfully made of plastic so it didn’t break.

While you're picking up straws you hear footsteps getting close to the bar that hid your kneeling figure and stop what you're doing when you hear Sharon talking about you. Again.

"And did you see how she’s dressed to her own party? No wonder Bucky’s been staying as far away as possible all night." she's basically whispering, but it's still loud enough for you to hear.

"I know, he’s probably ashamed of her. Wouldn’t surprise me if he dumped her tonight." the two girls giggle the sound seems to snap you out of your trance.

You get up so fast you scare Sharon and the other girl, their startled squeals drawing the attention of the rest of the party as everybody prepares for any danger.

But there is no danger, all everybody can see is two mortified looking agents and you with tears in your eyes that you don't even feel starting to fall.

The whole team is worried sick, everybody getting closer to the bar, but Bucky is the one that's at your side before you can even think about blinking the tears away.

"What’s wrong, baby?" he looks so worried, almost like he himself is about to cry at the mere thought of you being in pain.

But that can't be it, that's not what you're seeing.

He's probably just embarrassed you're being overly emotional for no apparent reason, and that look in his eyes is him getting ready to break up with you right here and now.

At that thought you can literally feel the cake you just ate coming back up and all you can do is run as fast as you could towards the nearest bathroom with a very concerned Bucky running after you after silently agreeing with Steve with a single look that he’ll be the one to check on you.

You make it to the toilet just in time to unload, barely registering two hands taking your hair and holding it away from your face.

You finish vomiting and clean your mouth with some toilet paper before throwing it in and flushing it, shuffling your body backwards until your back hits the tub and you close your eyes while resting your head back against it.

You feel your hair falling back down on your shoulders and can make out the sound of the faucet running for a few seconds before you feel a wet towel gently brushing your cheeks and mouth.

You open your eyes and are met with Bucky kneeling in front of you, seemingly examining every inch of your face to try and understand what’s going on.

Before he can ask you for what felt like the thousandth time though, you can't hold yourself back anymore.

"Please don’t leave me." your voice is weak enough already from all the vomiting and the sobs that start coming in certainly don't help.

Tears start to fall like waterfalls but you don't let any of that stop you from going on. "I know I said I didn’t need you, but I do. I need you so much more than you could ever know."

Bucky wraps his arms around you and he's more than relieved when you don't pull away for the first time in weeks.

Instead, you cling to him as you keep pleading with him not to leave you in between broken sobs while he moves you to sit curling on his lap.

Bucky’s heart breaks for you and he wonders if this was how you felt everytime you comforted him, feeling even more in awe of you now that he knows how hard it was to see the person you love like this.

All he wants is to make you feel better and take away all your pain, but he had no idea how.

When you show no signs of calming down after several minutes he decides to try to talk you down, hoping not to make things worse.

"Doll, I need you to calm down." he tries to pull away just enough to look you in the eyes, but you just hug him tighter, almost terrified that he's just gonna get up and leave forever if you let go and you start getting more agitated by the second. 

!Baby, please try to take deep breaths." he's trying really hard not to panic himself now. "I’m not leaving, I promise. I’m staying right here with you, but you need to calm down, please."

Maybe it's because he's basically begging you, maybe it's because of the panic and concern you think you can hear in his voice or maybe it's his grip getting impossibly tight on you that grounds you, but your brain seems to clear just enough to give your body the command and you start trying to take deep breaths.

When you loosen your hold on Bucky he grabs one of your hands and puts it on his chest right over his heart, the steady beating giving you something to concentrate on as you try your best to copy his breathing. 

It takes a few more minutes but you calm down, tears still falling silently down your cheeks while Bucky rubs your back with his metal hand, his other warm hand still over yours on his chest.

"I’m sorry I’m such a mess…" Your voice sounds foreign to your own ears, quiet, full of sadness and desperation.

This isn’t you.

This isn’t the confident, strong woman that kicked ass and defended Bucky even to your own family from day one.

What happened to you?

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky's asking himself the same question.

What happened to the sweet, bright girl that offered him a hug after five seconds of knowing him? The girl that calmed him down from a panic attack and kept him company through the night even after knowing about his past?

The girl that let him hang onto her like a koala and allowed him to let it all out? The girl that was patient with him, understanding and never once judged him, no matter how broken she’d seen him?

He really can't think of anything that could've happened to break you this much, to bring you to basically have a meltdown on a bathroom floor.

But whatever it was he needs to know now, and he's more determined than ever to find out.

"Doll, you’re not a mess. You’re hurting, I can see it. We all can. And I know you’re strong, but everybody needs help once in a while. Whatever’s been happening, you don’t have to go through it alone. Just like you didn’t let me go through anything alone. You were always there for me, you’re always there for everybody." he pauses and you take the moment to spiral further.

This is the only reason why he’s still with you. You were there for him, you cared and comforted him. So he feels the need to stay with you because Bucky’s loyal, no matter what his feelings actually are.

But he’s gonna fall in love one day with someone, and what is that gonna mean for you? He’s gonna leave you to be with the person he actually wants, loyalty or not. Your fall down the rabbit hole is stopped by Bucky’s voice.

"Please let me be there for you. This is killing me, watching you do this to yourself. Please tell me what’s going on, baby, because you’re scaring me so fucking much. Please." he finishes in a whisper.

Before you can even properly process his words, you feel a tear that's not yours fall on your cheek, making your eyes widen and you look up to see Bucky already looking down at you with tears rolling down his cheeks.

Your hand goes up to his face automatically and you feel him lean into it. You sit up straighter on his lap, leaning in to rest your forehead against his and closing your eyes while willing yourself to stop the tears long enough so you can talk.

Bucky doesn't push you, finding comfort in your touch after having missed it for what, in his opinion, is too damn long.

"I’m sorry… I just…" you don't even know how to start to explain it.

Bucky can see you're having a hard time finding the words, so he tries to help by saying "You don’t need to rush it, doll. I don’t want to push you to talk about something you clearly don’t want to... But I’ve just been so worried. You’ve been pushing everyone away, and you don’t sleep and stay at the gym until you almost pass out. You think that I don’t hear you throwing up, but I do. And, even with all your oversized clothes, I can see how much weight you’ve been losing. It’s killing me, baby, I hate to see you like this. I just want to know why." he kisses the side of your head and you're on the verge of tears again.

Trying hard to hold them back, you force yourself to speak. "I heard some people talking about me…" you start, your voice still quiet, and you go on to tell him everything.

The conversation you overheard, the insecurities that it brought to the surface, the issues you had in the past and the struggle you’ve been having the last few weeks.

By the end of it Bucky he doesn't know what to feel. He's enraged, worried sick, sad at how miserable you’ve been. Just to name a few.

But more than anything he's heartbroken at how much you’ve been questioning your relationship with him and his love for you. He's devastated to think that everytime he told you how much he loves you, you doubted him and convinced yourself he was lying.

And the worst part is he has no idea how to change your mind.

Is there anything he can say that you won’t doubt? Anything he can do to show you how much you mean to him? Probably not, but he has to try and make you understand.

Your eyes are still closed, not daring to see the disappointment in Bucky’s face.

"Baby, look at me." he says firmly but gently enough to not make you think he was in any way mad at you.

He waits patiently until you look at him which, after taking a deep breath, you do and only then he continues while taking your face in his hands "There are so many things I want to tell you right now... but I’ll start with I love you, doll. I love you so much it actually hurts. Maybe we got close because you were nice and patient with me, but that’s not why I love you. I love you because you’re kind and smart and strong and dedicated. You can kick ass like no one else and you’re still the sweetest person I’ve ever met. And I’m almost 100, I’ve met a lot of people." he smiles when he finally gets you to giggle, the first real laugh he’s heard from you in weeks.

"You’re compassionate and understanding and loyal and beautiful beyond compare. I fell in love with you because of who you are, not what you look like. But that doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re pretty, I think you’re gorgeous and I love your body. I love everything about you. Every. Single. Thing." he punctuates every word with a kiss to each of your cheeks and then your nose, making you giggle more. "You think I’d ever leave you? I could never even consider being with someone else. God, you were never even supposed to mean this much to me! I was never supposed to fall so hard... But you know what? I did and that’s the truth, and that’s what keeps me holding on because it hurts like hell to let you go."

You're obviously in tears, not being able to look away from Bucky’s eyes even if you wanted because of his hold on your face, not that you're trying that hard to get away.

You have no words to describe the way you feel, not even being sure if you fully believe him. The look on his face, though, makes you want to believe. Makes you want to tell all the voices in your head to fuck off until the only one left is Bucky’s saying all the things he just said, over and over again.

But can you really let go of them that easily?

"You don’t have to carry this by yourself, doll." Bucky can see your internal struggle. "Lean on me. Let me help you make this easier."

There's nothing but sincerity in his eyes, he can't possibly be that good of an actor to be faking it, right?

So you decide to trust him.

You trust him with your life, why can’t you believe that he really loves you? 

You can. You do.

You will...

"Okay…" You’re basically whispering, still a little worried he’s just pretending and is gonna rip the rug from under you any second now. "I love you, so much. And I want to believe you love me… but it may take me a little while to accept that completely. I’m sorry…"

"You don’t need to apologize, baby. It doesn’t matter how much time it takes, I’m here for all of it. I want nothing more than to help you feel better, starting with helping you love yourself as much as I love you." he wipes your tears with his thumbs before he gives you a soft kiss on the lips. "And not worrying what jealous, unimportant, random people think of you. You’re beautiful inside AND out, don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise. Not even this." He taps the side of your head.

You wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, neither one of you needing to say more at the moment. After a few minutes like this, you’re both done crying and you let go just enough to look at each other.

"Can we go to our room?" you ask him and he nods, letting you get off his lap and then getting up with you.

He doesn’t let you get too far from him while you go to the sink to try and make yourself look decent as he follows you so closely you might think you’re glued to each other.

Your eyes meet in the mirror and he smiles at you, wrapping his arms around your waist, he gives you a kiss on the shoulder before resting his head on it.

You successfully wash off all the makeup you put on for the party, your efforts now ruined by all the crying.

"You’re so pretty." Bucky tells you, his eyes never leaving yours and you smile a real smile this time, turning your head to give him a kiss on the cheek that makes him smile even more.

You get out of the bathroom and you tense up seeing everybody still at the party, your breath hitching in your throat as embarrassment crawls up on you.

You can see the team’s worried looks and the last thing you want right now is to go through the last 40 minutes all over again, in front of everybody.

You just want to go to your room and cuddle up with Bucky, but the super soldier had other plans.

"Can I have everybody’s attention?" you look at him with a frown, but he simply smiled at you and keeps going once the whole room is looking at you two. "It’s been brought to my attention that some of you have some misconceptions about our relationship."

You didn’t tell Bucky who you heard the conversation from, only that it was two agents just in case he might think it was someone on the team, and it almost looks like he's scanning every agent’s face to try and figure out who it was, but he continues nonetheless.

"I’d just like to make it clear for everyone that not only I love this woman more than life itself, but I, and everyone who knows her for that matter, think she’s the best, most caring person I’ve ever met. Not to mention the most attractive, in my ever so humble opinion." he wraps his metal arm around your waist and brings you closer as your face gets redder, and you can see the team chuckling and grinning at Bucky’s possessiveness and your flustered form. "And it’s also absolutely none of your business what happens in our relationship. But, since you’re all here I might as well give you something real to gossip about."

To say you're confused is an understatement. You turn back to him when Bucky’s arm disappear from around you just in time to see him reach into his back pocket, pulling out a ring box and getting down on one knee.

You hear gasps around the room, your own being muffled by your hand in front of your mouth as your eyes grow wide.

"Bucky..." It's barely a whisper to begin with, your hand almost not letting it escape at all.

"Baby, I meant every single thing I’ve said today. I love you so much. I’ve been carrying this around for a couple of months, looking for the right time to do this. But when you started pushing me away I thought maybe you were changing your mind about me. I was terrified and decided to wait, but I realize now if I had done this when I first wanted to, the last few weeks probably wouldn’t have happened. I could’ve saved you so much pain... I don’t know if this is the right time, but I do know that I’ve been ready for a while and right now I honestly can’t think of a better way to show you just how much you really mean to me. So…" he opens the box to reveal a rose gold ring with one big diamond at the center and two smaller ones on each side of it, then he takes your free hand on his. "Doll, will you marry me?"

He can feel you trembling, tears forming in your eyes once more as the whole room seems to hold their breath.

"Yes!" you're finally able to get out and Bucky feels like he can breathe again, happiness spreading throughout his whole body.

You basically throw yourself on him and he catches you with ease, getting up on his feet while you wraps your legs around his waist like a koala.

There's a chorus of cheers, the team immediately gathering around you to congratulate you both.

It feels like too little time when you finally detach from Bucky as he gently put you on the ground before slipping the ring on your finger and kissing it, his eyes never leaving yours, silently telling you he belongs to you and only you.

You’re about to lean in for a kiss when two strong arms pick you up making you squeal, Steve’s laughter in your ear as he says something about finally having a sister-in-law and making everybody laugh.

After a good 15 minutes of hugs left and right, Bucky intervenes.

"Okay, okay, can you please not smother my future wife?" your heart skips a beat when he says that and you're sure you're smiling like an idiot as he makes his way through the team to get to you.

"You know, he actually asked me for my blessing. I told you he cares very much about you." Tony whispers to you while he passes, giving you one last squeeze and a wink before everybody gives you and Bucky a moment.

He wraps his arms around your waist and finally kisses you.

When you pull away you both have big, goofy grins, never wanting this moment to end.

There's no separating you, and now everybody knows it.

Requested taglist: @aesthetic0cherryblossom @buchi91 @sapphirebarnes

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x f!reader #avengers x reader #avengers x platonic reader #avengers x platonic!reader

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Comet Donati [Chapter 4: Temporary Fix]

Series Summary: Sex, drugs, boy bands. You are a kinda-therapist recruited (via nepotism) to help Comet Donati through a recent crisis. Things are casual with Aegon, very not-casual with Aemond. Loosely inspired by One Direction.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+), drugs, alcohol, smoking, crepes, mental health struggles, the Cookie Monster pajama pants are removed...😏

Selected Chapter Quote: “I will push you off the Eiffel Tower.”

Word count: 6.7k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: ​@doingfondue​ @catalina-howard​ @randomdragonfires​ @myspotofcraziness​ @arcielee​ @fan-goddess​ @talesofoldandnew​ @marvelescvpe​ @tinykryptonitewerewolf​ @mariahossain​ @chainsawsangel​ @darkenchantress​ @not-a-glad-gladiator​ @gemini-mama​ @trifoliumviridi​ @herfantasyworldd​ @babyblue711​ @namelesslosers​ @thelittleswanao3​ @daenysx​ @moonlightfoxx​ @libroparaiso​ @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics​ @mizfortuna​ @florent1s​ @heimtathurs​ @bhanclegane​ @poohxlove​ @narwhal-swimmingintheocean​ @heavenly1927​ @mariahossain​ @echos-muses​ @padfooteyes​ @minttea07​ @queenofshinigamis​ @juliavilu1​ @amiraisgoingthruit​ 

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! 💜

“Our father never cared about us,” Aegon says at the rooftop bar in Kansas City, a full year before you meet Aemond, a full year before you know him as anything other than a face to be printed on t-shirts and keychains like profiles stamped into coins at a mint, things to be acquired, traded, hoarded, lost. Aegon is swirling the ice cubes in his Salty Dog with a green plastic stirrer shaped like a pirate’s sword. He’s glowing from his sunburn, but he glows from within too; you have the sudden and distinct impression that he’s made of weightless luminance, slice a vein and he’d bleed daylight. A year later, you’ll find yourself thinking that if you cut Aemond, storms and rogue waves would come pouring out.

“I’m so sorry,” you offer, knowing it will not help. But it can’t hurt either, unlike those platitudes that well-meaning but ignorant people like to besiege him with: Of course your parents love you. I’m sure they did their best. You’ll understand how hard it is when you’re a dad someday.

“I figured it out pretty early on. How much he preferred Rhaenyra. How I was the antithesis of everything he could have wanted in a son.” Aegon shrugs; it can’t be changed, it’s like trying to stop the rain. He sips his Salty Dog. Ice clinks; he licks his lips. “It took Aemond a little longer. Helaena was always with Grandpa and Daeron was mother’s favorite, but I remember Aemond trailing after our father like a duckling, asking him about history and books and whatever else, just desperate with this need to be noticed, to be loved. If my father was leafing through a biography at the kitchen table, Aemond would spend hours on Google trying to come up with a fact he hadn’t read yet. If my father mentioned a movie, Aemond would watch it over and over again until he had the lines memorized. I remember one Christmas, Aemond wanted the Helm’s Deep Lego set because my father liked the Lord of the Rings. Then he kept asking Dad to help him put it together. ‘We’ll do it this weekend.’ ‘We’ll do it after I get off this conference call.’ ‘We’ll do it tomorrow.’ ‘We’ll do it for your birthday.’ Never happened. Well summer rolled around and I guess Aemond figured he might as well just do it himself. So he stayed up all night putting that fucking Lego castle together and left it on the kitchen table where my father couldn’t miss it. So the old man comes downstairs the next morning for breakfast and we’re all sitting there with our waffles and orange juice, and Aemond is trying not to act too proud but he is, he’s literally shaking with impatience for Dad’s praise, even a crumb, even just a few words, the maple syrup bottle was trembling in his hands. And my father strolls into the kitchen, glances at this meticulously constructed replica of Helm’s Deep—I mean it’s like a sculpture in a museum, it’s goddamn perfect—and he gives this little snort of a laugh. He says: ‘Wow, look at that.’ And then he sits down at the table, opens his biography of King George V, and never mentions it again.”

This moment is real but it isn’t. Sitting outside in the warm, windswept Missouri midnight with a popstar you’ll never see again (an incorrect assumption) and stories you have no right to hear (so you believe).

Aegon takes another sip of his Salty Dog. “Not me,” he says with a puckish, sad half-smile. “I was never going to beg for someone to want me. I go wherever, I’m with whoever. No strings. No anchors. Nothing stays the same except the band, and that’s what bought me my freedom to begin with, so I don’t mind it so much. Me father is disgusted by me. But this is who I am. And I’d rather force him to watch me torch his legacy than break my back trying to earn love that was given away long before I was born.”

“Do you think that’s a part of why you have no interest in settling down?” you say. “I mean, commitment is a two-way street. And if you commit to someone, you have to trust that they’ll commit to you back. That they love you now, sure, but also that they’ll keep loving you. Maybe that’s something that’s difficult for you to accept. That someone could love you for more than an hour, a night, a day.”

He taps his Salty Dog against the tabletop, considering you, perhaps even marveling: wind in his blond hair, blood in his cheeks. At last he asks, teasing: “What are you, some kind of therapist?”

“Well, actually…in a year from now…” You feel uneasy assigning such significance to yourself—it feels inevitably pretentious, over-confident, unearned—but you can’t help returning his smile. “I sort of will be.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re laying in your bed with the French doors that lead out onto the balcony wide open. The breeze—sunny and warm and smelling of the bakery next to the hotel, croissants and baguettes and half a million different sorts of pastries—breathes in through the semi-transparent linen curtains, a great inhale, a sighing exhale. You can hear footsteps and laughing on the sidewalk outside. The tourists are a cross-section of humanity, with languages from across the globe: a sprinkling of Portuguese here, Arabic there, Mandarin and Hindi and Russian. When the wind flutters the curtains aside, you can see the Eiffel Tower across the Seine. You should be out exploring Paris, but you’re not. You can’t seem to get out of bed. It’s been almost one week since the fight in Reykjavik. You don’t speak to Aemond and he doesn’t speak to you, and everyone knows this but they don’t know why. Not the whole story, anyway. They caught snippets through the sliding glass door, but they didn’t hear what Aemond said to you.

You’re just a groupie. You’re just a slut.

And now Aegon’s words come back to you too:  Whoever you are when you’re in high school…that’s sort of who you are forever, you know?

You pinch your eyes shut and roll onto your side away from the open balcony doors. Earlier you had gotten up, showered, deliberated leaving your room…and then immediately put back on your pajamas and crawled into bed. You have no idea where Aemond is now. He mopes around, he avoids you, he disappears on his 1960 Gold Star for hours, he takes notes in white ink, he takes calls on his iPhone.

There is the sound of a key—not a card, but a real, brass key, old and worthy of preservation just like the hotel—jangling in the lock of your door. Aegon steps inside. He’s FaceTiming someone in extremely poor Spanish.

“Adiós mi amor! Sí, te extraño. Claro que sí. Te extraño mucho. Vale, adiós. Hablamos pronto.” He hangs up and slips his iPhone into the pocket of his neon yellow cargo shorts. He’s wearing matching Crocs and a black Comet Donati band tank top. He pushes his aviator sunglasses up into his hair. “Hey.”

“Hey. Who were you talking to?”

“Camila Cabello. But she can wait.” He kicks off his Crocs and walks over to the bed, looking down at you quizzically. He tosses the brass key back and forth between his hands; Criston keeps the second copy of each one, so Aegon must have borrowed it from him. More likely, he thieved it. “You okay, Stargirl? You look stressed.”

“I am stressed.”

He grins, an eyebrow raised, sunburn on his shoulders. “Anything I can do to help with that?”

And you remember what he said to you back in Kansas City last June, a lifetime ago: I don’t think my worth is determined by who or how I fuck. I don’t think yours is either.

Aegon would never call you a slut. And even if he said it, he wouldn’t mean it in the way Aemond did. It wouldn’t be an insult, a belittlement, a curse. You watch him as he stands in the golden afternoon light, caring for you, wanting you in a way that is pure but not innocent. Do you want him too? Sure; Aegon’s beautiful, and you already know you have chemistry, and more than either of those things he is safe. But he’s not the one who keeps you up at night. He’s not the reason you thought, fleetingly and poisonously as you swallowed your birth control pill this morning: What a goddamn waste.

“Actually,” you say, peering up at him, your lips curling into a drowsy smile. “There might be.”

“Yeah?” He’s a little surprised but very enthused.

“Yeah.”

He whips his sunglasses out of his hair and sets them on the nightstand next to your souvenirs: the Colosseum pencil sharpener, the alabaster Apollo, the fighting bull refrigerator magnet, Portuguese soap and Austrian chocolate, the moose snow globe, the silica mud mask, the stuffed comet, the Eiffel Tower keychain you bought yesterday here in Paris, and if that’s cliché then so be it. The mattress shifts when Aegon climbs over to you, pushing up your oversized Jonas Brothers t-shirt. He touches his lips to the softness of your belly, bites lightly and playfully, gazing up at you through his shaggy hair as he works his way down to the waistline of your Cookie Monster pajama pants. And suddenly, you’re back in Kansas City a year ago, feeling the comforting, harmless heat of him in the downstairs bathroom of a rooftop bar, drenched in glowing florescence like moonlight, your back to a red wall and his mouth all over you, first above and then below, coaxing the darkness out of your veins like a shot of penicillin cures sepsis. He’s antivenom, he’s white magic, he’s a spell.

“You sure?” Aegon asks now, pausing as his fingers unravel the blue drawstring on your pajama pants like the bow of a Christmas present.

You reach down to knot a hand in his hair, wanting to be closer to him, and he smiles, knowing what you’re going to say before you say it. “I am so fucking sure.”

A resistless tug and your pajama pants have vanished. Aegon positions himself between your thighs and buries his face in the thin strip of fabric that still separates you, black lace you didn’t buy while thinking of him. Aegon inhales deep and slow. “Oh God,” he moans. “You smell just as incredible as I remember.”

His thumbs slip beneath the lace and whisk it away: the coolness of sudden air, the warmth of his tongue. You gasp, drowning in the best kind of sea, waves that cover splintering piers and razor-sharp barnacles, currents that erase memory. It’s exactly like it was before. It will always be this way with him, you know, you feel in your blood that carries all the same elements as his: iron, carbon, oxygen, nitrogen that builds DNA, hydrogen that ignites and burns. And just like that red-walled night in Kansas City, you are amazed by how quickly the ecstasy blooms in you, wispy and yet unbearably powerful, clearing thoughts and uncoiling muscles.

“Good girl,” Aegon murmurs with your wetness dripping from his lips, watching your face as he slides two fingers into you; his own eyes—murky blue puddles that hold few secrets—are entranced, rapturous. “Now come in my mouth, baby. I want to taste all of you again. I want to drown in it. Come in my mouth, can you do that for me?”

You can, and almost immediately: he plunges his fingers into you as he strokes you with his tongue and the rush is bliss yet superficial somehow, sunbeams on wave crests, without the kind of miles-deep tragedy, pining, promises that poets like to write about. Aegon notices the towel you’d draped over the desk chair after your shower and reaches for it to wipe his face with, but you stop him, drawing him to you by his tank top; and you drag your tongue up his chin and over his lips, tasting yourself on him, licking him clean. Then you take his fingers into your mouth and suck them until he looks like he’s going to pass out, like he’s going to forget how to breathe.

“Fuck,” he whimpers, and he kisses you just like he did a year ago, with an intense sort of need and his hand against your face, his flesh and blood hot and pressed to yours, palm lines on your cheekbone. He wants you in a way that is unburdened by pasts or futures; and who is anyone to condemn that? Perhaps that is the most painless form love can take.

And as the high dissipates, fog burned away at noon only to creep back in the next morning, Aemond returns to you: his words, his wrath, his flawed yet flawless face. You feel unexpectedly, overwhelmingly low. But this is not the time or place for tears; Aegon is still here.

Now I have to get him off too. Now I have to repay him. That’s fair, right?

“Just do it.” You fling one arm across your face as you look towards the balcony, breathing in Paris and daylight, spreading your thighs wider for him, anticipating the faint pressure-pain that will blossom into pleasure as his body melds with yours. “It’s fine. Go ahead. Just fuck me.”

But when your eyes drift back to him, Aegon still has his clothes on. He sits upright and traces the line of your jaw with his fingertips, studying you with uncommon quietness. “No,” he says softly. “No, I don’t think so. You look sad.”

You nod, unable to trust yourself to speak without your voice breaking.

Aegon sighs and flops down beside you on the bed, pulling you against him, whispering as his fingers twist in your hair: “Come here. Shh, shh. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t help.”

“You helped, Aegon.” Just not quite enough.

He kisses your forehead, and then your cheek, and then he looks at you expectantly. “Are you finally going to tell me what he said? That night in Reykjavik? I heard you screaming something about Missouri, but I don’t think that’s what fucked you up so bad.”

You hesitate as you lie together in the sunlit stillness threaded with distant footsteps and passing cars, Aegon twirling strands of your hair, fondness and familiarity and longing that he is politely trying to ignore. Beneath his neon yellow shorts, he is rock hard.

“Now I’m really curious,” Aegon says, smiling has he kisses your forehead again, entangled with you like tendrils of grapevines, morning glory, ivy. “Aemond’s fucked up too. He’s been lying on his bedroom floor and listening to The Script. He hasn’t done that since he and Shelby split.”

Shelby, you think desolately, flinching. “You warned me about Aemond. You told me he was full of demons.”

“Yup. I’m glad I can’t read minds. It’s gotta be like Poltergeist in there.”

But everyone has a few skeletons in their closet, don’t they? Bones that won’t stop rattling. Teeth that gnash and crave. “He called me a slut.”

Aegon pulls back, brow furrowed. He looks at you, trying to decipher which nerve Aemond hit. It is not a word that Aegon considers to be derogatory.

“But it wasn’t really what he said, it was how he said it, like…like…like because of what I’d done with you a year ago, I didn’t matter anymore. Nothing about me mattered. That he could never respect someone like me. That I had deceived him into thinking I was someone worth wanting.”

Abruptly, Aegon leaves the bed. He grabs his sunglasses off the nightstand and pads across the hardwood floor in his bare feet, steps into his Crocs, slides his sunglasses over his eyes, fluffs his blond hair that hangs in chaotic waves.

“Aegon…?”

“Come with me,” he says, nodding towards the door. He pulls a piece of cotton candy flavored Bubble Yum out of his cargo shorts and tosses it into his mouth. “Right now. Put some clothes on and let’s go.”

“Go where?”

Aegon does not elaborate. He only repeats while chomping noisily on his gum: “Let’s go.”

You rush to the bathroom and are ready in five minutes: flip flops, tousled hair, a flowing turquoise sundress you bought yesterday while shopping at Hermès with Baela and Rhaena. “Okay, seriously, where are we going?”

“Out,” Aegon says simply. You follow him through the doorway and down the corridor; like a bloodhound after evidence, Aegon tracks laughter that drifts through the hallway to Daeron’s room. The youngest Targaryen brother is playing Uno with Jace and Baela; Daeron has just made Jace draw four.

Aegon smacks Daeron’s shoulder and demands: “Where is he?”

Daeron is startled. “Huh? What? Who?”

“Aemond. Where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

Aegon smacks Daeron again. “Where is he?!”

“I don’t know!” Daeron wails.

Mercifully, Baela intervenes. “Luke and Rhaena said they were going to the Eiffel Tower. Maybe Aemond went too…?”

“Cool,” Aegon replies. And when he sails out of the room, it’s not just you that goes with him; Baela, Jace, and Daeron file after Aegon as well, chattering conspiratorially. Aegon doesn’t wait for the elevator. He races down the grand staircase to the lobby: white marble floors and Oriental rugs, velvet armchairs and chandeliers, butlers scuttling and women hauling poodles around on taut leashes. Aegon strides past all of it without any interest. You follow him into the street outside and then across it, dodging taxis and limousines. Aegon believes crosswalks are optional. Next he locates the closest bridge over the Siene and traverses it.

“Are they gonna fight?” Jace asks Daeron excitedly. “You think they’re really gonna fight?!”

You plead as you hurry across the bridge, riverboats and swans gliding by below: “Aegon, I don’t want you to say anything to him.”

“I’m not going to say anything.”

“I don’t want you to shout anything either.”

Aegon peeks back at you, smirking wickedly. You know him too well. His pace picks up as he exits the bridge; next comes the vast stretch of gardens that surround the Eiffel Tower, strewn with picnicking tourists, fountains, ferns, lilies, roses, shrubs and trees and waddling ducks.

Jace gasps, euphoric: “Oh my God, they’re gonna fight!”

“Do you really see that ending well?!” Baela hisses back. “Aegon has to be on stage tonight! That’s not going to happen if Aemond snaps him in half like a KitKat!”

“Aegon, you can’t fight him,” you say, petrified. Aemond would win. Easily. Everyone knows that.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Aegon, please!”

“What the hell happened?!” Baela puffs as she jogs up beside you, clutching your arm, bewildered and alarmed. You shake your head. Too long a story, not one you wish to share, not one you entirely feel you have a right to disclose. You’ve only told Aegon, and how is that going to turn out? You don’t want people to hate Aemond. You don’t want to alienate him from the band any further. That might seem contradictory given his recent disregard for your own wellbeing, but it’s—however regrettably—true.

“This is going to be so fucking epic,” Jace says. “Wait, do I have time to get popcorn? I think I should grab some popcorn. Wait, wait, there’s a crepe stand right over there, just give me five minutes. Aegon? Aegon?! Man, please, just postpone the beatdown for five minutes!”

“I hope you can sing Aegon’s parts too,” Daeron tells Jace. “I don’t have them memorized.”

“Cregan can do it.”

“Cregan is going to flay you alive if he sees you encouraging this.”

“He can’t sing all our parts,” Jace replies sensibly.

Aegon battles his way to the front of the long line of people waiting to purchase tickets to go up into the Eiffel Tower. They grimace and jeer at him, hurling swears in a myriad of languages. When he reaches the ticket counter, an aghast employee begins to implore Aegon—“S'il vous plait, Monsieur, vous devez attendre votre tour!”—until she gets a better look at him. Her mouth pops open; her sky blue eyes go impossibly wide. “Oh mon Dieu…”

“You know who I am, right?” Aegon says impatiently. “Yeah, you recognize me. Okay. I need to get up there right now. Me and my friends. What can I do to make that happen? I have lots of credit cards. I can also sign your arm or tits or whatever. What do you want?”

The employee settles for a selfie with Aegon, Jace, and Daeron. Daeron smiles dazzlingly and poses with two thumbs up. Jace gives Aegon bunny ears. Then the five of you receive your tickets. This time, Aegon is willing to wait for the elevator; it’s over 600 steps to the second floor alone, and you’re all already winded from the walk here. Aegon gets off at the first level, does a lap around the tower—tall glass barriers and metal cages around the balcony, a café and a gift shop—and then reboards the elevator to ascend to the next floor. The second level is more open. There is a railing around the edge of the walkway of course, but it only comes up to your waist. Next to one of the tower viewers is who Aegon is searching for: Luke, Rhaena, Cregan, Criston…and Aemond. He’s wearing dark jeans, a black Calvin Klein t-shirt, vintage Adidas sneakers like the ones Freddie Mercury had at Live Aid, sunglasses to shield his damaged eye from photographers, and a fanny pack. He’s biting into a Golden Delicious, round and shiny; juice glistens on his lips. None of them have spotted you yet.

You hear Luke ask Aemond: “Bruh, this is really embarrassing. You’re worth like $100 million. Why are you eating apples and pecans out of a fanny pack?”

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find vegan food in Paris?”

Criston spies Aegon just as he’s closing in. He reads the fury on his face, his outstretched hand. “Don’t—!”

Aegon thrusts his palms against Aemond’s chest, hard, hard enough to force him back a couple of steps towards the railing. “Apologize,” he orders.

Aemond looks at you—for a moment, only a moment—and then back at Aegon. “For what?”

“You know what you did. Apologize.”

Everyone has gathered around. Criston’s dark eyes dart between Aemond and Aegon. He has a grip on Aegon’s shoulder, but he hasn’t dragged him away yet. He doesn’t know what this is about, and though he would never admit it…he’s intrigued. Cregan hovers close by; he lights a cigarette, taking advantage of Criston’s momentary preoccupation. Baela and Rhaena are gossiping in hushed voices. From behind his black sunglasses, Aemond stares at his brother, the wheels in his mind spinning. He doesn’t hit him, though he easily could. He doesn’t seem to have the spirit for it.

“Whoo!” Jace shouts, pumping his fist in the air. “Fight, fight, fight!”

Daeron mutters to Luke: “Are we taking bets?”

“Um, no?!”

“Right now,” Aegon tells Aemond, and shoves him again. “I mean it. I will push you off the Eiffel Tower.”

“Whoa, illegal!” Jace hoots. Cregan hooks a hand into the collar of Jace’s polo and yanks him back. “Hey, referee abuse over here—!”

“I will break your fucking arm,” Cregan growls.

“Okay,” Jace says. “Got it. No problem. I’m done now.”

“Apologize,” Aegon commands again, as if you’re the only people here: him, you, Aemond.

You are mortified. “Aegon, please don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” Aemond says. He’s looking at you again, and this time he doesn’t turn away. You wish you could see his eyes: windows to the soul, however clouded they might be. It’s the first time he’s spoken to you since Reykjavik. The gravity of it—his voice, his steady gaze, the gut-punch realization of how much you still want him—knocks all the words out of your skull. You sweep them up like a child collecting spilled coins in cupped hands.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.” Aemond’s tone is benign, calm, like he’s already rehearsed this and has just been waiting for the opportune moment. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was speaking out of anger. It was impulsive of me, it was indecorous.”

What the fuck? Indecorous…? Who uses words like that in casual conversation? Incurably pretentious Aemond Targaryen, that’s who. “Thanks, I guess. You must spend a lot of time with your thesaurus.”

“Well, I write lyrics, so.”

“Yeah.” You wait for Aemond to add the most important part: that he was wrong about what he said, that it wasn’t true. But he doesn’t go there. He only apologizes for speaking it into existence, for vibrating the air with its treacherous molecules. “Okay,” you tell Aegon. “I think you got what you wanted. Can we go now?”

“Sure.” Aegon slaps Aemond across the back and gives him one final glare, swift but cutting.

“What’s a thesaurus?” Daeron whispers to Luke, who shrugs.

“Some kind of dinosaur…?”

“That’s alright, boys!” Jace says, clapping his hands. “Walk it off! Take a breather! Plenty of time for Round 2 later!” Cregan bends one arm behind his back. “Ow—!”

“No smoking,” Criston snaps, ripping the cigarette out of Cregan’s mouth and stomping it into ash.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, after soundcheck, eating dinner in the gardens under the lengthening shadow of the Eiffel Tower, dark stripes that swallow up daylight like bathwater sucked down a drain. Everyone has a crepe that’s rolled up in wax paper, as Europeans serve it…everyone except Aemond, of course. He’s sitting by himself under a 200-year-old sycamore tree and gnawing morosely on a plain baguette that’s as long as his own forearm. His iPhone rings; he checks who it is and then silences the call. Luke goes over to sit with him, dripping whipped cream from his banana and Nutella crepe all over his white shorts speckled with sailboats. You keep trying not to look at Aemond. Each time you see him is like poking a bruise; it’s nothing but pain, but you can’t seem to stop.

“Oh wow!” Baela cries, beaming as she scrolls through her phone. “The Paris Opera Ballet is performing Romeo and Juliette this season!”

“Neat!” Rhaena says. “Like right now?”

“Yeah. We could catch a show before we leave next week.” She turns to Jace. “Baby?” And when he ignores her, she rubs his shoulder, her voice honeyed. “Jace?”

He groans. “Really? Ballet?”

Baela frowns. “I think it would be fun.”

“I think you can go without me.” Jace points to Aemond, grinning. “Take him, he likes archaic things. Hell, he is one now.” New lines appear in Aemond’s brow, but he gives no other indication that he’s heard this.

“You can’t spare one afternoon for me?” Baela says; and her words have turned from honey to battery acid. “Are you fucking serious? Do you know what I’ve given up for you?”

Jace sighs heavily. “I knew you were going to make this into a thing.”

“Me?! You’re the person who’s being unfair here, I’m asking for one afternoon—!”

“There’s literally no reason why you can’t go with someone who won’t feel like they’re being tortured for three hours.”

“Torture? That’s what my life’s work is to you? Torture?!”

“Well now I definitely don’t want to go anywhere with you if you’re going to act like this—”

“Act like what, like I want my boyfriend to occasionally show even a vague interest in something I care about—?!”

As they go back and forth, everyone else stares down at their dinner, actively dissociating.

Baela asks you: “You want to weigh in on this?” It’s not really a question.

You take a cagy bite of your baked apple crepe. “Um, honestly, I don’t really have much experience with couples counseling.”

“Great. Now’s your chance to acquire some.”

“Uh…” You eat some more of your crepe, slurp your citron pressé, a sort of do-it-yourself lemonade. Baela waits. Jace smirks at you, attentive but not for the right reasons. “Well. I guess what I can say is that it’s important for both people to have their interests valued and their needs met. So for every activity that Jace chooses, there should be roughly the same amount of time spent on something that Baela wants to do.”

“Yeah but I have a lot less free time,” Jace says. “Since…you know…I happen to be in a world-famous boy band in the midst of their third global tour.”

Baela pitches back: “Exactly, which has completely taken over my life, so I think if I could get just one fucking afternoon where you show me some minuscule amount of appreciation then that might be kind of nice, you know?”

“Jace,” you say gently. You can see on the periphery of your vision that Aemond is watching you, once again hidden behind sunglasses that you know he wishes he didn’t feel the need to wear. “It sounds like this is really important to Baela.”

He sighs again. “Baela, Baela, ballerina,” Jace muses, somewhat affectionately but without respect. “Okay. We’ll see. We might have time tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Baela agrees; but already she looks defeated. And she is not a woman who defeat comes naturally to. She’s been worn down by weeks, months, years of the same rote disappointment. She glances at a street vendor who’s selling falafel. “Hey,” she says to Rhaena. “Go get us some wraps.”

“Me?” Rhaena peers nervously at the falafel cart. “What if he only speaks French? Or some other language I don’t know?”

“Then point to the sign, you’ll figure it out,” Baela replies testily.

“I’ll go too, Rhaena,” you offer. “And you can order but I’ll stand there with you and help if any charades need to be done. Will that make it easier?”

“Sure,” Rhaena says. “Okay. Deal.”

And when you return ten minutes later, along with all the other food you have one order of plain falafel: no yogurt sauce, no wrap. You bring it to Aemond, who is stunned. “What’s this?”

“It’s vegan. Falafel is vegan. So here, your dinner just got a little more exciting.”

“Well…thanks.” He takes it with tentative hands.

“That’s so thoughtful of you!” Luke says cheerfully. “Do they have falafel in Kansas?”

“Missouri,” you correct. “And not really. But I ate a lot of it when I was at UChicago.”

This captures Aemond’s interest. “You went to UChicago?”

“Yes, Aemond. Shockingly, liking sex does not make women stupid.”

His iPhone rings: Mr. Brightside. Less than ideal timing. He rejects the call.

“Who was that?” Criston yells over.

“No one,” Aemond responds irritably.

“Your mom?”

“No, Criston.”

“How’s she doing?”

“She wasn’t the one calling, Criston!”

“Okay but I’m just asking, how is she doing like in general…?”

Back at the hotel, Comet Donati is getting ready for their first show in Paris: drinks in glasses, white lines on tables, hair and makeup, cigarettes and pills. You soak in your massive jacuzzi tub and stare up at the ceiling wondering: What am I doing here? What the hell am I still doing here?

But the thought of actually boarding a plane back to Kansas City is terrifying. Never seeing Aegon again? Never seeing Aemond again? Never seeing any of them except on YouTube or Spotify? You don’t want to leave their orbit. You don’t want to zoom off to the other end of the solar system just yet.

You wrap a towel around yourself and mosey out into the bedroom to get dressed. He’s there inspecting the souvenirs on your nightstand, chuckling and pushing them around with his knuckles, wearing a sequined blazer and skin full of ink: not Aegon, not Aemond, not Cregan, but Jace. You squeal, startled, and clutch your towel tighter around yourself. Unfortunately, it’s a very small towel. A very very small towel.

“These are neat,” Jace says. “So I collect tattoos and you collect souvenirs. We have so much in common.”

“We have exceptionally little in common. What do you want?”

He smiles, but never quite kindly. “What do you want?”

“I want you to take Baela to the ballet,” you say. “And I want you to get out of my room now.”

He turns all the way around to face you. He flings your moose snow globe from Stockholm into the air and then catches it, again, again. “Do you really?”

“Yes, Jace.”

And for a minute, or two, or what feels like forever, he doesn’t move. He just stands there staring at you, not moving any closer but not leaving either. Not listening to you. Not hearing you because he doesn’t want to. And you think, your heart hammering in your chest: At what point should I scream for Aegon or Criston? Will they hear me? Will they help me?

“Alright,” Jace says at last. He sets your moose snow globe back down on the nightstand, roughly, with a loud clunk. Then he walks across your room; but before he disappears through the doorway, he throws you a brass room key. Instinctively, you move to catch it, almost dropping your towel in the process. You snatch it back into place just in time. Jace is amused. Perhaps he planned it that way. “Aegon left that lying around,” Jace says, meaning the key. “Maybe you should be more discriminating when choosing who you give it to.”

“I didn’t give it to him. He took it from Criston.”

“Sure he did.” And finally, Jace leaves, as unwelcome as a funnel cloud or a hailstorm.

Aemond spends the concert in the shadows: pacing, taking his notes, ruminating over his many grudges. You spend it in the front row with Baela and Rhaena, wearing the neon yellow gown you found in Reykjavik. You try not to scan the arena for glimpses of Aemond. You fail miserably. Comet opens their concert with an interesting choice, an upbeat cover of Third Eye Blind’s How’s It Going To Be. When you ask Rhaena about it, she says it was Luke’s idea, which in your experience means it was almost certainly Aemond’s, or at least one that he enthusiastically endorsed. Daeron begins, peppy and animated, strutting across the stage:

“I’m only pretty sure that I can’t take anymore

Before you take a swing

I wonder, what are we fighting for?”

Aegon is next, characteristically a little sloppy, a little shaky, yet getting colossal cheers:

“When I say out loud

I want to get out of this

I wonder is there anything

I’m going to miss?”

Cregan’s voice is deep, sensuous, inviting yet with an edge like a blade:

“I wonder how it’s going to be

When you don’t know me?

How’s it going to be

When you’re sure I’m not there?”

Jace is technically the best singer, rich and smooth and nearly always pitch-perfect:

“How’s it going to be

When there’s no one there to talk to?

Between you and me

‘Cause I don’t care…”

And Luke leads the harmony as guitar notes pluck out of the monstrous speakers:

“How’s it going to be?

How’s it going to be?”

Aside from the cover, the setlist is the same as it’s always been since you joined the tour in Rome…but you’re experiencing it in a new way. You are needled by jealously every time you wonder what woman, moment, day, night inspired one of Aemond’s songs; you are nauseous with envy for everyone who’s ever been able to touch him. When they perform A Girl Named After A Car—which had previously always struck you as fun, light, unserious, perhaps satirical—you are consumed by a specific conspiracy theory. After fighting it for half of the song, you Google two words with your iPhone: Shelby car. Sure enough, there’s a vintage Mustang model called a Shelby. It’s gorgeous. It’s perfect for Aemond.

“Great,” you mutter to yourself.

“You okay?” Rhaena asks.

“Yeah,” you reply, slamming your phone back into your purse. “I’m awesome. I’ve literally never been better.”

“You don’t look awesome,” Baela says, smiling. “That’s okay. I’m not so awesome either at the moment.” She takes your hands and starts spinning you around the floor. “We can be hot bitter bitches together.”

It’s tradition for everyone to hang out after the concert, but you’re in no hurry to get to Jace’s suite; you certainly don’t want to be one of the first people to arrive. You don’t want to be alone with him. You walk very slowly, taking a detour to touch up your hair and makeup. As you are wandering a quiet section of the hallway, you observe that Aemond’s door has been left ever so slightly ajar. You peer inside to find it empty…but his notebook is on his nightstand.

No way, you tell yourself. No no no. Huge violation of privacy and respect.

“Oh yeah?” you object, barely audible. “And what would you call what he said to me?”

You go to the notebook and flip it open. Matte black pages slip beneath your fingertips.

“Just the first page,” you swear to yourself. “That’s all. Then I’m leaving.”

There’s a song written there; or, rather, partially written. He’s only worked out a verse and the chorus so far. Your eyes skim over it with lightning-flash quickness, cognizant that you cannot allow yourself to be caught. At the top of the page is one word in pale gleaming ink like pearls, opal, moonstone: Magic.

(Ver1) You walk into the room and I think:

How am I going to get you out of me?

Are you an infection, a lethal connection,

Or are you a fire to burn me clean?

“Nice,” you breathe, with hushed awe you wish you didn’t have.

(Chorus) Are you a witch or are you a spell,

Is loving you gonna be heaven or hell?

Black cats and white salt, ladders and doorframes

I think of magic every time you look my way

There are drunken, giggling voices and the sound of doors opening and closing in the hallway. You scurry out of Aemond’s suite and proceed to Jace’s before anyone thinks to come searching for you.

The room is thick with label executives and hangers-on, smoke and music; Watch by Maisie Peters is playing. She’s a friend of the band. You’re reasonably sure Aegon has hooked up with her, or at least aspires to. Speaking of Aegon, he is currently flitting around with Cregan. He stops briefly to say hi to you, a chilled emerald bottle of Kronenbourg 1664 in one hand, white powder on the other. He’s there and then he’s gone again. He might as well have been slingshotted to the other end of the galaxy. Criston is standing by the open balcony doors and talking to Daeron. Jace is at the bar laughing loudly—obnoxiously, hyena-like—with some mid-twenties guys you don’t recognize. Baela is glaring at him from one of the couches, seated next to Rhaena and Luke. But when she sees you, the rage vanishes from her face. She waves you over rather frantically.

“Look, I know this probably isn’t going to help your situation, but I just wanted to let you know that I am really, really hoping you’ll be willing to stay with us a little longer—”

“Yes! Totally!” Luke seconds, nodding.

“—And it’s not like we’re going to forget about you or prefer her over you or anything—”

“No, definitely not,” Luke says.

“What are you talking about?” you ask them. “Prefer who?”

Rhaena grabs your hand and squeezes it. You follow her eyeline across the room to the opposite couch, a mirage through warm smoke and icy dread. And you think: I should have known. I shouldn’t be surprised. Of course it would be here—in this city of Instagram models and Hallmark-card romance—that she would reappear like the moon growing large again after fading to a sliver, everything back in its rightful place, nature restored to harmony.

Sitting beside Aemond—on his good side, his unscarred side—is Shelby.

#aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x y/n #Aegon Targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii #Aegon Targaryen II x reader #Aegon II Targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader

[mrsrookhunt]

Hey!!! How’re you? Anyways no rush on this because I know how busy you are, with school work, and the requests and I know it’s a lot so no rush on any of my requests, but here’s a new one.

Ango, Sigma, Nikolai, Lovecraft and Mushitarou with an s/o that LOVES thighs, like any kind of thighs. (Pretty sure we had a conversation about this ☠️) and they constantly hold their thighs, touch them, kiss them, bite them, MAN EVERYTHING, I LOVE THIGHS.

Anyways thanks again, and no rush, I love your writing and you should continue doing what you do. Have a good day/night bye! <3

BSD Men with an S/o who Loves Thighs

Fluff, crack

Warnings: Suggestive

Ango Sakaguchi

Ango's more embarrassed than he's willing to let on that you take such interest in his thighs.

He doesn't see them as anything special, being on the thinner side and certainly at least average.

When you first express your love for his thighs, he's confused by it, and slow on the uptake to realize it's not specifically sexual, either. He's flustered when you shyly ask him to allow you to put a hand on one when you're sitting together; it's not something he ever thought of, but he doesn't mind it after he gets used to it.

He loves your enthusiasm about his thighs; he won't admit it but it makes him feel just a little bit more special in your eyes.

Sigma

"My... thighs? Is that a... fetish or something?"

Poor baby he's so flustered

He doesn't like his thighs; he says they look too unprofessional for a casino manager, but you beg to differ.

"They're a natural part of you, how can they be unprofessional-?"

He grows to like your fixation, however. It's endearing. He may not be one to indulge it often out of his own low self esteem, but if you're both alone and you're stressed out or overthinking, he may put your hand on his thigh and give it a little squeeze, hand-over-hand, to remind you he's here for you, whatever you need.

He blushes like mad if you ever bring it up but you do appreciate his subtle affections and gestures of love for you.

Nikolai Gogol

He laughs like a madman when you 'confess' this to him.

"Of course you love my thighs, who doesn't? They're everyone's dream~~"

You nearly smack him when he uses his ability to rest one right on your shoulder while he cackles.

It's true, he's proud of those thighs of his. He knows their immense worth.

Now well-aware of your fascination with them, he often makes a point to plop one on you as much as possible, demanding rubs and cuddles for his 'oh-so-sore' thighs.

Something about all that weight making them ache

You start playfully biting his thighs when he gets them too close for comfort.

He doesn't seem to mind, snickering each time you do and giving you a soft kick to the chest.

"Aaaaah, my doveee--- I can't help it-- it's my reflexes!".

Nikolai's thighs are a 10/10 experience

Howard Phillips Lovecraft

His... thighs? You... like them?

What thighs--

His emaciated form is skinny and gaunt; he doesn't expect you to become enamored with the practically skin and bone thighs he bears.

He's not really surprised. He doesn't care much at all; you have free reign over touching and playing with them, he doesn't mind. So long as you're not disrupting his sleep.

Once, after a particularly long time 2 days away from him, he puts your hand lightly on his thigh, and when you hesitantly squeeze, he makes a mild noise of contentment. However, that's the most he's ever indulged you.

You like to lightly smack him on the thighs sometimes when he annoys you. It's just the best spot, in your opinion, and a great way to let him know he needs to dial down the eldritch horror again--

Overall, you can do practically anything with his thighs. He doesn't find it endearing or sweet, but he does appreciate your affections.

Mushitaro Oguri

You never tell him; you never get a chance to. By the second month of dating, he insists on holding your hand on top of his thigh at any possible opportunity, and is more than thrilled when you show them any special attention.

You tested the waters by going in for a kiss on his lower thigh once, a sweet one that made him flustered and red, but in the best way.

You never took him for a thigh man but he very clearly loves when you play with his and enjoys playing with yours too, if you'll allow him to.

He loves how you just lock onto his thighs for cuddles, laying in his lap and resting your head between them, like your own personal body pillows. He'll rub your head and give you kisses the whole time. This is 200% your favorite way to watch movies on the couch together.

Pay attention to his thighs. It's a major center of his affections.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

May 23rd, 2023

-Kaori

#x reader #x character #character imagines #fanfictions #fanfic #bungou stray dogs #fanfiction #yandere #sigma x reader #bsd s4 #mushitaro x reader #sakaguchi ango #bsd sakaguchi ango #bsd ango #ango x reader #ango sakaguchi #sigma bsd #sigma bsd x reader #bsd nikolai gogol #nikolai x reader #bsd howard phillips lovecraft x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai gogol #bsd mushitaro #mushitaro oguri #i love mushitaro #bsd lovecraft #bsd lovecraft x reader #bsd fluff #fluff

[watermelonsugacry]

Quick question do the fans know about bandmembers relationship with her father? Like I know she probably keeps it very private but they must’ve found some stuff out. Also have people asked her often like interviewers or anyone really about where her father was since he was never brought up? Seems invasive but I’m sure there would be some interviewers who would cross the line. Anyways love you!!😘😘

She keeps that side of her past VERY private but the fans are like the FBI so of course they find out bits and pieces.

Like they know that her father wasn't present in her life and how she doesn't want him to be in her life anymore. They know he lives a rich life now and has a separate family--the fans were quick to investigate and find out that his new wife and daughters went to one of her shows for her most recent tour. And that YN was kind enough to take a picture with them backstage and sign a little something for them.

The fans know that Penny isn't her biological mother but they don't see or treat her any differently than if she was. The fans LOVE Penny and love how much she loves YN.

There was one time in an interview when they asked about YN's family pretty early on in her career. It was in a group interview before heading off on their first world tour. It was an innocent question that got her worked up:

"And you, YN? How about your parents? Are they coming to the first show as well?" The woman asked in a perky tone before extending the padded microphone in YN's direction.

"Um, well me stepmum is gonna come along," She says from her spot squished in between the boys. "Penny loves the boys and gets real excited whenever she sees them so that should be pretty embarrassing," Seventeen-year-old YN lets out a playfully pained laugh at knowing how Penny gets when she's around the rest of her bandmates. Her stepmum loves to pinch their cheeks like they're in primary school. Hopefully her response was enough to redirect the question.

"And your dad?" The interview lady presses on. "I'm sure he would like to see his little girl making her dream come true."

The term "his little girl" makes her want to cringe. She never considered herself as such. She's still working on her media training, on taming her smart mouth from snapping back, so she tries her best to mask her uncomfortableness with a smile but it comes out strained.

"I'm sure he would."

The boys sensed her uneasiness as soon as the question left the interviewer's mouth. Thankfully, after a stern look from one of their management representatives from behind the camera, the woman quickly moves on to another question.

It became a subject that their management team prohibited any interviewer to ask which she was grateful for. Yet, the subject of her father probably would have come up in her first H*ward S*ern interview or something because we all know he's hella invasive.

"So your father," The horrid interviewer begins behind his microphone and unnecessary sunglasses. "He was a drunk wasn't he?"

It wasn't a question but more of an assured assumption to try to embarrass her. But anyone who knows YN knows that she doesn't take shit--especially when it comes to this host.

"Takes one to know one, huh?" YN counters with a faux furrow of her brows and an innocent tilt of her head.

Fans love to edit the video with close-ups of each of her band members' reactions that sit behind her:

Her guitarist tucks his lips in as he tries to suppress his smile. Her drummer turns his head away and brings his smirk to the ground. The man on keys can't help the snort that comes out of her mouth, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth. And her bassist just has his tattoo-covered arms folded across his chest, nodding his head with a proud smirk resting comfortably on his lips.

"I love this girl," Howard shakes his head with a laugh. "So I'll take that as a yes. So with that, I assume he was a bit abusive too? I mean, every pop star has to have some type of trauma to be able to be as successful and talented as you."

"Oh, Howard," YN shakes her head in return, a genuine laugh tumbling past her lips. A gorgeous smile graces her face that can make any person weak in the knees. "Your logic is truly one of a kind. Um, I mean, he wasn't the best father out there. But I honestly wouldn't be where I am today if it wasn't for me mum. She was both parents combined and she's just the most amazing woman in the world."

"And Penelope wouldn't happen to be single and interested in, I don't know," The older man waves his hand in front of him, a sickening smirk on display. "A handsome, successful interview host?"

"Yeah, sure." YN nods sincerely at the suggestion. "Know any?"

#harry x 1dbandmember!reader #harry styles x reader #since 2010 series #harry styles x y/n #harry styles #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #1dbandmember!yn #1d!yn #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles and famous reader #harry styles and reader #harry styles and you #harry styles and y/n #harry styles x famous!reader #famous!yn #famous!reader

[ircn-dad]

One thing I love about Irondad is that Tony -despite his past with Howard- is not cold with Peter, and is not ashamed to admit how much he cares for the kid (in his way, ofc).

People always judge Tony's character is Homecoming because "Hah!! Stark doesn't care about him! He ignored for two months!! He's the worst!"

Can I Start saying that that man right here wasn't in the right mood to mentor a kid right after civil war? He saw his parents die, he saw his friend almost killing him in rage and then had to deal with the breakup of the Avengers and the whole Rhodey's situation. He probably thought it would be better for both to not be in contact, because while Tony wants to heal, he also want Peter to not be like him.

Think about it: After civil war, Tony was a disaster and all of this because he was an Avenger. Of course the man wouldn't want Peter to be like him, not when Tony's life went down hill since the first day as Iron Man. He doesn't want that life for a fifteen years old kid, so he leaves Peter with Happy and everyone is safe.

Not because he doesn't want the kid around, but because he thinks it's the best for the kid to not be around a billionaire with severe anxiety and a little bit narcissistic.

Tony never showed any discomfort around Peter, since their first scene together. He has always been interested in the kid, and was the one one who understood Peter, as Peter said him self in the infinity War novelization.

(I won't start saying how everyone blames Tony for "manipulating" Peter and bringing him into a war. Just know that is incorrect, and Tony would never bring a kid in a war, because that wasn't meant to be a fight. Tony brought Peter so that -his words, not mine- he could web them up if they tried to escape. He never thought about ending up with a broken arm and with Rhodey who can't walk anymore)

Anyway, returning to the subject, I think we can all agree on one thing: Peter is not aware of how Tony actually cares about him. But not because Tony is an asshole and hates him, but because of one reason:

1. Peter in homecoming only wanted to prove himself. He desperately wanted Tony to see the potential in him, so during all the movie he he acted so that Tony could be proud of him, but at the same time when Tony complimented him he didn't even showed gratitude. He was blinded by wanting to show the man what he was worth for that he didn't notice Tony was always proud until the very end.

I don't think the main problem is in fact Tony because as we see, and Peter can't, he actually already invested in Peter's life.

He listens to the voicemails, remembers them and always kept an eye on him, even during his journey to India (TO RECOVER HIM SELF FROM CIVIL WAR Y'ALL).

And can I say something more? Tony isn't afraid to think Peter as his son. Often, in the Fanfics, we always see Tony panics because him and Peter became closer and he's scared how he could be like Howard to the kid. The second part is right, but he would never panic about thinking Peter as his son. Actually, he doesn't mind and already thinks the kid as his responsibility.

It's actually funny and cute how he says "My father never really gave me a lot of support and I'm just trying to break the cycle of shame" because all I see is a man who was neglected and abused by his father, and hated the idea of having a child because of this (remember that scene in IM3 where he flinches at the only thought of having one) until he met Peter. He decided to be better because of him, he wanted to change because of him.

When he says "I sound like my father" my heart broke because no, YOU DON'T YOU SILLY.

These two phrases demonstrate how he's not afraid to tell the kid he sees himself like a father for him. Ofc he's scared because he doesn't want to end up as his own father, but he is ready to be a good role for Peter when he will finally be healed from civil war.

He's not cold, he's not distant towards Peter and even though he's afraid of ruining the kid and his childhood, he already loves him.

Homecoming was a new start for both of them and I believe that in the two years between Infinity war and Homecoming they were not afraid to tell each other how much they cared (again, on their way because even I think it's pretty weird imagining tony saying "I love you you're my son" to Peter or Peter saying "Yes you're my dad adopt me" because that's so out of character).

Every interaction they had in infinity war screamed that. You can clearly see how much the kid is now comfortable with the man, is not shy around him, and is not scared to talk to him; you can also see how Tony has become more protective of Peter. Literally everything he says or does screams "don't touch this kid or I will kill everyone in this room and then my self" (I mean, that's what he did in endgame, no?)

at last, I want to appreciate this scene because it's not appreciated enough:

Strange is literally assuming Tony is Peter's guardian, and the way Tony crosses his arm, assuming this defensive pose to protect him self when he said "I'm confused as to the relationship here" because he wants to know what Strange has to say about them, ready to answer and to kick his ass out of the flying donut if he says something bad about Peter or about their relationship. Or the fact he always has something to answer to Strange, but this time he stays silent and doesn't even try to explain who is Peter when he asks he is his ward because that's his kid and so many other things he doesn't know how to explain.

Also, Peter saying an awkward and quick no while staring at Tony will never not be cute for me. It's like this already happened before and someone already pointed out how they look father and son together, and Peter is not even that embarrassed. He's just confused why everyone keeps thinking they are father and son (but not unhappy)

#tony stark #peter parker #tony and peter #tony stark and peter parker #irondad #spiderson #irondad and spiderson #ironfam #iron man #spiderman #marvel #mcu #still talking about them because I'm not over #homecoming #spiderman homecoming #infinity war #doctor strange #analysis? kinda #tony deserves better #tony stark defense squad #anti howard stark

[jonasgoonface]

Happy anniversary of Willem Van Spronsen's attack on the Tacoma ICE detention center. Here's a thing I drew a while back. Here's a manifesto that he wrote, it's v good. ------

What follows is the written manifesto of Willem Van Spronsen:

there's wrong and there's right. it's time to take action against the forces of evil. evil says one life is worth less than another. evil says the flow of commerce is our purpose here. evil says concentration camps for folks deemed lesser are necessary. the handmaid of evil says the concentration camps should be more humane. beware the centrist.

i have a father's broken heart i have a broken down body and i have an unshakable abhorrence of injustice. that is what brings me here. this is my clear opportunity to try to make a difference, i'd be an ingrate to be waiting for a more obvious invitation.

i follow three teachers: don pritts, my spiritual guide, "love without action is just a word." john brown, my moral guide, "what is needed is action!" emma goldman, my political guide, "if i can't dance, i don't want to be in your revolution."

i'm a head in the clouds dreamer, i believe in love and redemption. i believe we're going to win i'm joyfully revolutionary. (we all should have been reading emma goldman in school instead of the jingo drivel we were fed. but i digress.) (we should all be looking at the photos of the YJP heroes should we falter and think our dreams are impossible, but i double digress. fight me.)

in these days of fascist hooligans preying on vulnerable people on our streets, in the name of the state or supported and defended by the state,

in these days of highly profitable detention/concentration camps and a battle over the semantics, in these days of hopelessness, empty pursuit and endless yearning,

we are living in visible fascism ascendant. (i say visible, because those paying attention watched it survive and thrive under the protection of the state for decades [see howard zinn, "a people's history of the united states.") now it unabashedly follows its agenda with open and full cooperation from the government. from governments around the world.

fascism serves the needs of the state serves the needs of business and at your expense. who benefits? jeff bezos, warren buffet, elon musk, tim cook, bill gates, betsy de vos, george soros, and need i go on? let me say it again: rich guys, (who think you're not really all that good,) really dig government, (every government everywhere, including "communist" governments,) because they make rules that make rich guys richer.

simple. don't overthink it.

(are you patriots in the back paying attention?)

when i was a boy, in post war holland, later france, my head was filled with stories of the rise of fascism in the 30's. i promised myself that i would not be one of those who stands by as neighbors are torn from their homes and imprisoned for somehow being perceived as lesser. you don't have to burn the motherfucker down, but are you just going to stand by?

this is the test of our fundamental belief in real freedom and our responsibility to each other. this is a call to patriots, too, to stand against this travesty against everything that you hold sacred. i know you. i know that in your hearts, you see the dishonor in these camps. it's time for you, too, to stand up to the money pulling the strings of every goddamn puppet pretending to represent us.

i'm a man who loves you all and this spinning ball so much that i'm going to fulfill my childhood promise to myself to be noble.

here it is, in these corporate for profit concentration camps. here it is, in brown and non conforming folks afraid to show their faces for fear of the police/migra/proud boys/the boss/beckies... here it is, a planet almost used up by the market's greed.

i'm a black and white thinker. detention camps are an abomination. i'm not standing by. i really shouldn't have to say any more than this.

i set aside my broken heart and i heal the only way i know how- by being useful. i efficiently compartmentalize my pain... and i joyfully go about this work. (to those burdened with the wreckage from my actions, i hope that you will make the best use of that burden.)

to my comrades:

i regret that i will miss the rest of the revolution. thank you for the honor of having me in your midst.

giving me space to be useful, to feel that i was fulfilling my ideals, has been the spiritual pinnacle of my life.

doing what i can to help defend my precious and wondrous people is an experience too rich to describe.

my trans comrades have transformed me, solidifying my conviction that we will be guided to a dreamed of future by those most marginalized among us today. i have dreamed it so clearly that i have no regret for not seeing how it turns out. thank you for bringing me so far along.

i am antifa, i stand with comrades around the world who act from the love of life in every permutation. comrades who understand that freedom means real freedom for all and a life worth living.

keep the faith! all power to the people! bella ciao

don't let your silly government agencies spend money "investigating" this one. i was radicalized in civics class at 13 when we were taught about the electoral college. it was at that point that i decided that the status quo might be a house of cards. further reading confirmed in the positive. i highly recommend reading! i am not affiliated with any organization, i have disaffiliated from any organizations who disagree with my choice of tactics. the semi automatic weapon i used was a cheap, home built unregistered "ghost" ar15, had six magazines. i strongly encourage comrades and incoming comrades to arm themselves. we are now responsible for defending people from the predatory state. ignore the laws of arming yourself if you have the luxury, i did.

#willem van spronsen #terrorism #ICE #abolish ICE #no borders #anarchy #power puff girls #manifesto #long post

[harrysfolklore]

OMG FINAL PART OF YOUNGER YN!!! IM DESPERATE

and here it is, the final part of this series! i have to be honest with you, i’m not convinced of this is the best ending but i hope you enjoy it, let me know your thoughts <3

IF YOU LIKED THIS PLEASE CONSIDER SUPPORTING ME

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !

liked by jacobelordi, oliviarodrigo and 1,096,754 others

yourinstagram something’s coming

view all 47,635 comments

ynfan1 STUNNING

conangray they’re not ready

ynfan2 JUST ANNOUNCE THE ALBUM

jacobelordi ❤️❤️

↳ ynfan1 just confirm that you’re dating

harryfan1 if she releases her album the same day as harry’s house istg

↳ ynfan2 get outttt

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 1,908 others

harryupdates “I write about my personal experiences so yeah, there’s going to be songs on this album about the time we spent together, just as there’s going to be songs about other people in my life and stuff I’ve experienced” - Harry about if there’s going to be songs about YN on Harry’s House, via the Howard Stern Show

view all 459 comments

harryfan1 i hate stern

harryfan2 as someone who listened to the leak album.. there’s a lot of songs that scream yn

↳ harryfan3 don’t spoil

ynfan1 when is he going to stop bringing her up

↳ harryfan1 maybe when interviewers stop asking about her

liked by spaceykacey, fingermonkey and 6,235,734 others

harrystyles Harry’s House. Out now.

view all 106,735 comments

harryfan1 BEST ALBUM EVER

harry_lambert ❤️❤️❤️❤️

fingermonkey So proud ❤️

↳ harryfan2 awww adorable

ynfan1 the songs about yn are the best

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 1,987 others

harryupdates Official lyrics from “Little freak”

view all 454 comments

harryfan1 damn

ynfan1 and that’s how the best song on his album it’s about yn

↳ harryfan2 annoying

harryfan2 i don’t know why are people surprised, harry said they were going to be songs about their time together on the album

ynfan2 i wonder how she feels about thisss

liked by ynfan1, ynfan2 and 1,865 others

ynupdates YN via instagram stories !

view all 408 comments

ynfan1 AN ICON

ynfan2 omfg is that jacob?

↳ ynfan3 yeeees

ynfan4 she’s really an icon. being unapologetically happy with her new boyfriend and not caring about drama, i love her

liked by ynfan1, ynfan2 and 73,987 others

enews The rumors are true. Jacob Elordi and YN are the new IT couple. Link in our bio for the full story.

view all 17,836 comments

ynfan1 LETS GOOO

ynfan2 ahhh i’m so happy for her

harryfan1 the blue hat is giving harry’s fisherman hat

ynfan3 i love them

liked by selenagomez, madisonbeer and 1,529,072 others

yourinstagram THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE. JUNE 3RD

my second studio album is about to be yours, i wrote this record during a time where heartbreak was all i could feel, but also how i healed and blossomed again.

i hope you love it as much as i do

view all 49,863 comments

ynfan1 IM SO READYYYYY

conangray i’m so proud of you it’s insane

oliviarodrigo I CANT WAIT 🤍🤍🤍

ynfan2 i’m so ready for those diss tracks

jacobelordi ❤️❤️

↳ ynfan1 all he comments is hearts it’s so funny

annetwist Congratulations 🥰

↳ harryfan1 ANNE?

↳ harryfan2 help they still have a good relationship i guess

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 1,906 others

harryandcamille Camille watching Harry perform tonight !

view all 503 comments

harryfan1 she’s so pretty

harryfan2 harry is with camille, yn is with jacob. i know we loved them as a couple but they’re happy now and that’s what matters

↳ ynfan1 agreed

liked by yourinstagram, fingermonkey and 6,802,178 others

harrystyles Thank you, thank you, thank you. My love for you has no end. I hope you’re enjoying ‘Harry’s House’

view all 96,267 comments

harryfan1 i’m so proud of you

fingermonkey ❤️❤️

ynfan1 YN LIKED ??

yourinstagram 🤍

↳ harryfan1 HUH?

↳ ynfan2 it’s good to know they’re in good terms i guess

harryfan3 his gf and ex in the comment section i can’t

annetwist ❤️❤️

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @maria-r @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @evanjh @daydreamingofmatilda @sunflowervolume66 @lollypopsx @multiplums @89evrs @trulymadlykiki i  @piscesrecord @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ivegotparticulartaste @springholland @harryhoney-bee @harrysgloves @ayeshathestyles @comfort-reads @stylesmygucci i @gimsaysay y @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @sleutherclaw @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @alyxisacrybaby @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @leadmetogarden

#harry styles fake instagram #harry styles imagine #harry styles story #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x you #younger!yn #harry styles x reader #harrysfolklore #harry styles fake social media #harry styles au #harry styles instagram concept #harry styles fan fic #1k

[k4marina]

lives on

synopsis : even after the death of tony stark, he remains in his two daughters

warnings : tony’s death (i think that’s it), just overall angst with a lil fluf/comfort, unedited or proofread, this idea literally just came to me and i had to write it out ig

the backyard of starks cabin was filled with superheroes and loved ones, all chatting and laughing about. you could hear sam and bucky playfully arguing around the grill, beers in hand.

bruce, carol, and thor sprawled out talking about their space travels, with thor’s signature loud laugh. inside, pepper and laura were finishing up some of the food. clint and his kids (including little miss kate) were sat in the living room fighting over who gets to play the next round of mortal combat.

all in all, everyone was having a good time. the night was settling down and you and your mother brought out the cake. morgan, who’s been floating around everyone throughout the night was glued to your side, eyes wide and ready to cut the cake.

everyone had gather outside, smiling as you, morgan, and pepper sat around the cake. they started singing happy birthday, some going the more ‘normal’ route while others did their own thing (thor).

“happy birthday to you, tony stark, happy birthday to you!”

you three leaned in blowing the candles while everyone cheered. pepper cut the cake and morgan and you helped pass it around, conversations being picked up again.

“uncle bruce! uncle bruce! look what i can do!” all eyes turned to the little stark as she began to recite all of the elements of the period table. you and your mother watched in awe at the little girl. she reminded you all of him so much.

when you were younger, everyone told you how much you and your father were like twins and now, you could say that about morgan, too.

after reciting the periodic table, and getting a bunch of cheers, she went off to spitting facts about different elements.

“palladium is the 46th on the table, and it’s atomic number. it was discovered by william hyde wollaston, and then, grandpa howard used it to power his arc reactor at stark industries, and then, dad used it for his own arc reactor, but because it made him sick he had to redo the this allll over again, and he had to replace using grandpas notes!”

“that’s right, morgan, good job sweetie!” pepper gave her a kiss on the side of her head. you shook your head at the memories of your dad going of his shit and how (when you finally figured out what was going on) you gave him a lecture of a lifetime.

bruce chuckled, “i’m not even surprised, the stark gene lives on!” everyone laughed, agreeing. both you and your sister were gifted from a young age, just like your father, and as much as you wished he could see it now, like he saw it with you, you know he’d be proud of how his girls were growing up.

your eyes stung, tears creeping up, but blinked them away. this was a time for celebration, no need to cry. glancing over at your family, human, android, god, and all, you were thankful for them all.

happy birthday, dad.

oof, don’t know how to feel about this one. hopefully it was too bad (fingers crossed) or sad idk. stay safe y’all :)

#iron dad #avengers x you #avengers x stark!reader #morgan stark #the avengers #avengers x platonic reader #bruce banner #sam wilson #bucky barnes #carol danvers #thor odinson #tony stark x child!reader #pepper potts #clint barton #idk what other tags to use #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stank

[seraphtrevs]

i know that this is extremely random, but what do you think the brba/bcs character's love languages would be? imo lalo's love language would be acts of service maybe? idk. i would love to hear your thoughts! you always have such great insights

I actually remember doing this during the Long Hiatus!

Kim's is definitely acts of service. She is angry at Jimmy for switching Chuck's documents...but she's also clearly moved by his gesture. She would have broken up with him otherwise, but it just brings them closer. When they are on a break following the fallout from the commercial, Jimmy calls every day to sing to her answering machine. She's not ready to talk to him yet, but it's important to her that he makes a tangible effort at apologizing and demonstrates his willingness to be patient in a way that makes her laugh. He paints her toenails. He gets the Kettlemans backs for her. He is always doing stuff to show her how much he cares

Jimmy's is definitely words of affirmation. He desperately wants his brother to tell him he's proud of him. He wants people to express amazement at his cleverness. Unfortunately, this is something Kim has a hard time with. She will acts-of-service him all day long, but putting things into words is very difficult for her. This is part of the reason why Jimmy is so less secure in their relationship than Kim is - he's always asking for her to reassure him ("this guy? really?") but she struggles with giving that to him. That's why the office becomes such a huge deal to Jimmy because to him, sharing the office is like her saying "I'm proud to be seen with Jimmy McGill, whom I love"

Chuck values quality time. His whole EHS is an elaborate way to get Jimmy to spend time with him. After the death of his parents and his divorce (and probably the death of Hamlin Sr too), he feels very abandoned. However, he can't ask Jimmy to spend time with him because that would be too vulnerable and humiliating. So his brain made up a way for him to get what he needs from Jimmy without having to say that he loves him - it's just because of the dang EHS, not that he really wants Jimmy there every day

Howard's is acts of service. You can tell because he's constantly trying to do things for other people - he agrees to take the blame for shutting Jimmy out of HHM. He offers Jimmy a job to make up for it later. He pays off Kim's debt. He makes Cheryl a peace latte. It's so important to him for people to accept these acts because he's showing his love and care, but he sadly gets rejected a lot because he misreads which acts of service would be welcome and which are not helpful. No one does acts of service for him. Poor Howie. :(

Nacho wants gifts. In the end, he rejected the ill-gotten gains from the cartel...but I think he never stopped being a material girl at heart. He loves jewelry and nice clothes and expensive cars. Tragically he has to go out and take it for himself, but I think he would react really well to being showered with gifts. Maybe if Lalo put a ring on it, things would have turned out differently.

Lalo values acts of service. Nacho wins him over when he parkours to rescue the drugs from the trap house - the drugs themselves weren't worth a lot, but Nacho's willingness to put himself in danger to impress Lalo works really well on him. Nacho burning down Gus's restaurant really sealed the deal.

Mike definitely needs quality time. Yes, he's working to get money to support Kaylee...but actually, he's getting the money to support Kaylee to make sure that Stacey will still want him around. He doesn't feel worthy of spending quality time with either of them unless he's being a provider, which is very sad because Stacey and Kaylee enjoy time with him no matter what, but he can't see that

Gus also prizes quality time. He visits David for the pleasure of listening to him talk, enjoying basking in the presence of someone who can take the pressure off of him and let him be swept away by the dulcet sounds of neurodivergent infodumping.

#i will do brba later! #jimmy mcgill #kim wexler #chuck mcgill #howard hamlin #nacho varga #lalo salamanca #mike ehrmantraut #gustavo fring #better call saul #asks

[sailoryooons]

With the new Yoongi photos, I see a lot of people bringing up Scarface references and linking it to the Tony Montana song, which honestly I love. As a Cuban-American and a giant history nerd, I feel like babbling about why Yoongi selecting Tony Montana as a representation of his music is so perfect.

Hali being a fucking long-winded nerd under the cut

For those that aren’t familiar with Tony Montana, who inspired Yoongi’s track Tony Montana, he’s a fictional character in Howard Hawk’s movie Scarface. Tony Montana is a Cuban who, along with thousands of other Cubans, came to Florida by way of the Mariel Boatlift in 1980.

Let’s talk about the historical aspect of this first cause I think everyone should actually know the cultural significance of the Mariel Boatlift. 

The movie starts with the Mariel Boatlift event in 1980. It was basically a mass immigration all at once of Cubans to the United States when Cuba’s president at the time, Fidel Castro, agreed to release the thousands of Cubans who were trying to escape Cuba and its violent communist dictatorship. The US (Carter administration at the time) agreed to take Cubans under asylum - until they realized that a majority of the Cubans Fidel released were only the members of society the Cuban government considered ‘undesirable’. So people who had been in jail for years - and very specifically anyone who identified as queer - were sent to the US where they ended up stuck in immigration camps in absolute CHAOS. 

In the movie, Tony is one of the Cubans released who was a “criminal” (we could discuss for hours what actually constituted a criminal via the Cuban government but that’s not the point). The point is, that because of this realization, the media and the Americans freaked the fuck out when this happened and there was a HUGE wave of hate, backlash, and fear against the Cubans who were now plopped in Miami with nothing to do and nowhere to go. There was a HUGE pushback to get them out of the US and there was a lot of villainization of Cuban people for just existing. 

Thus - the growth of the cartel industry. Miami in particular was built on the back of Cubans and Cuban-Americans and I will die on this hill, and the cocaine boom in the 80s/90s is largely responsible for Miami becoming so funded the way that it was. Through the beginning of the movie, Tony is jumping through hoops as a low-level drug runner, but he’s viewed through the lens of a hero from the audience: does good by his family, has a great relationship with his best friend, is kind of making the best with what he has and wants so much more. We can liken this to how Yoongi views his own story: someone who is just trying to make a life for himself, someone who loves his members and his fans and family, someone who is passionate about what he does and is fighting for his legitimacy. Yoongi is the Tony Montana, being hated and shamed by Western media and even K-Media and struggling with enemies all around him.

The drug trade in Miami at its beginning was predominantly run by elite white men. In the 70s/80s/90s cocaine was a “white man's drug” as it was largely expensive - the majority of it was coming from South America. Tony essentially climbs the ladder through a white man’s game and trade, and ends up top. He slaughters his way there, killing whoever is in his way, and the entire time he does it, the viewer loves his story because he’s so proud and his brutality is from pride and want for power because he comes from nothing. 

This is literally Agust D. It’s Yoongi fighting his way to be who he is, to establish himself. His entire first two albums are consumed with anger and saying fuck the industry because he, like Tony, is good at what he does and even though others do not want him there, he doesn’t care. He will do whatever he wants to get to the top.

And both Tony and Yoongi get to the top, but once there, the enemies are even worse. The people who hate you are tenfold, you’re paranoid, you want more because you realize it isn’t enough, and you feel like you have people trying to fucking snipe you and tear you down every second. Your friends aren’t your friends anymore because you don’t know who is trying to bring you down, but despite all that, you’re the king because you did it. Which is Yoongi’s going in feel like Tony Montana.

Also, it’s not lost on me that using a character not native to the United States who started from nothing and climbed their way to the top with enemies everywhere is the fucking genius of it. Yoongi, a Korean rapper, has dealt with people thinking his music is a joke, not taking him seriously, and having so many haters - especially in the Western music industry predominantly controlled by white media (we can dissect this bullshit too)- likens himself to Tony because of the insane pride, the willingness to do anything, and the way you have so many people out for you when you fucking get there.

There is also a great comparison to draw between the two when you consider that Americans largely hated Cubans when they first came to Florida and it was all: they’re going to take our jobs, they are criminals, they don’t belong here. 

When you look at kpop and the BTS experience in general, it’s the same fucking thing. The Western media does not want BTS here - doesn’t get it. Thinks that kpop and BTS specifically are there to take jobs, that they don’t belong here. And then BTS did it anyway. 

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk idk I could talk about this so much longer and there are more things I want to include but this is just a summary on why Yoongi x Tony Montana is such a vibe.

also fun fact about hali's dad - he went out on his fishing boat to help rescue Cubans from Cuba and brought them back during the Mariel Boatlift lmfao

#lmao this was way too long and not really well laid out but idc #just some random thots for you guys on a sunday #i didn't make this as eloquent and educated as i wanted to but whatever!!!!

[witchthewriter]

𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒇𝒐𝒓 @perseephoneee.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑷𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒂 𝑴𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒌! The most ... gentle ... caring ... kind man that has ever existed ?? Will do anything to protect you, he's such a gentleman. Never lets you do up your laces, or zip/button your own clothes. When he sees things that need to be done around the house; he does them, rather than thinking 'oh someone will do it later.' He is your ... present from being the firstborn (I know how it feels my love, I'm sorry you had that trauma...)

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Loves when you get the zoomies late at night. It puts a permanent smile on his face. It's like your energy chases the oncoming nightmares away

All animals love him, especially your pets. A man who respects women, definitely respects cats (there's this whole theory about men who don't like cats because they don't like having to keep boundaries. Anyway-)

He knows your 'tells'. Meaning, Peeta knows when you're getting overwhelmed, anxious, sad, hyper, happy, depressed etc. It's more than just recognising emotions, he also has plans in place for the negative feelings

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Story Of My Life by The Chamber Orchestra of London

𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆/𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒂𝒏! Out of all the Narnian characters, I think he learnt the most in such a short time. He has a lot of passion and drive, but it's with good intentions. Is he a peacock? No...but he does like to show off. Especially in front of you. Plus, he has a lot of emotional intelligence. That's why I think you would make a great fit!

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Loves that you're musical. There's something about Caspian that makes me feel as though he loves music, loves dancing, loves yipping and swinging you around. In private, in public - he doesn't care. And when you show him that you have musical talent; oh god he would die of happiness

Caspian can't help but hold your face in his hands. Stroking your cheeks, holding you like you're the most precious thing in the whole universe. He's absolutely smitten with you. Cannot keep a smile from his face whenever he thinks about you.

King Caspian is really proud of having you as his wife (or partner, however you want to label it). Your empathy, the way you treat your family and the older generations. It's QUEEN behaviour. It truly is.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Ella and Kit by Patrick Doyle

𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑰𝒔𝒂𝒂𝒄 𝑳𝒂𝒉𝒆𝒚! Soft yet grows into his own person. Once it was you helping him and now he's the one with a dominant air about him. He definitely has a heart of gold. Isaac acts with the best interests, it's why I put in him Hufflepuff. He's loyal and would always look out for you.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

For Isaac's birthday, after a few months of being together, you gifted him a crocheted beanie. It took a lot longer then you were expecting, since your OCD kicked in - it had to be perfect. But he loved it - even if you just gave him one square, he would have it in his pocket every single day.

One of Isaac's favourite things to do is nap with you. Especially in the middle of the day. You will whine and say, "but I feel like I'm wasting time!" and he would pout, gather you in his arms and say, "any time I get to spend with you, is never wasted."

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

First Kiss by Howard Shore

#match ups #witchthewriter #pair ups #teen wolf match ups #teen wolf pair ups #narnia match ups #the hunger games #howard shore #patrick doyle #match up #pair up #ships #let me ship you #teen wolf pair up #teen wolf fanfiction

[lanyakea-universe]

I saw a TikTok a few days ago that broke my heart. And decided to make it an IronDad post.

You see, Tony Stark despised his father - so many bad memories were linked to this man and the few moments spent together. Howard taught him how to be a terrible father. Howard taught him how to destroy the self-esteem of a little boy too vulnerable to stand up for himself or understand why he wasn't loved. 

When the doctors announced that Pepper was expecting a girl, Tony Stark was so relieved. He could manage a girl. It was different. Pepper was here. Howard wasn't.

But a strange surprise came on the day of the delivery; after Morgan, came Peter.

It wasn't that he hated him - far from it, in fact, it was the exact opposite. He loved his little boy and girl with all his heart, more than life itself. But the idea of being like Howard terrified him; when he looked at Peter, he would see himself, small, too small to take a man's wrath, too small to take words and fists.

Tony never intended to neglect Peter in favor of Morgan. He didn't think that the fear of failure that constantly shone in his eyes could be visible to his son, who most of the time was glued to his twin's side. He thought he hadn't failed like Howard.

Even if Peter always got smaller and quieter when his father was around. Even if Peter looked scared just to breathe the same air as him.

One day, while Morgan was undergoing a minor surgery, a complication caused enough blood loss to necessitate a blood transfusion. Fortunately, the nurse announced, Peter was a compatible donor.

Pepper and Tony asked him if he could help and naturally the little angel agreed.

As the needle sucked out his blood and the boy stared blankly, a pale figure in a bed too big for him, machines rattling around him, he asked how long it would take for him to die. Confusion ensued as Pepper and the nurse tried to reassure him.

In this little boy's mind, giving blood meant trading his life for Morgan's. It meant dying.

And while tender laughter was the main reaction, Tony stood aghast, his eyes watering. He was incredibly proud that his son would naturally protect his sister. But then he understood what Peter thought of him: his father had asked him outright to die in order to save Morgan. His father had used his life for his sister's.

His father had killed him.

He chose Morgan. 

His father didn't love him.

That night Tony insisted on sleeping in his son's bed, holding his little baby close, kissing his hair, whispering how much he loved him and how proud he was of him.

#irondad #irondad spiderson #tony stark #peter parker #morgan stark #tony stark & peter parker #tony stark needs a hug #i need hurt #kid peter parker #peter is tony's biological son #whump prompt

[mynonclicheblog]

After seeing the first 5 minutes, it's VERY clear that both Ben & Devi's actions post-boink are very much (virtually 100%) being driven by fear and insecurity. They both feel awkward that it wasn't some epic fairytale First Time (because that happens sooooo often to teenagers in the real world, right?) and they're overthinking each others' behavior to the point that it's clouding their judgement.

I'd like to talk about them both, but I'm going to focus mainly on Ben since he appears to be our little troublemaker this season (compare w/ Devi's season 2) - and also, I think I have a better idea where his emotional/romantic development arc is going this season. To start off:

I'm sorry to the dxtons who tried to relay this scene in the most disparaging and anti-ben way possible, but this is the face of a boy who WANTS to talk. A boy who was surprised and excited when Devi turned towards him because he really really likes her and it seems like she's actually initiating communication- for real this time! All he's ever wanted was for them to talk candidly about their feelings!

...But then, like a teenage dum-dum (who is still nursing the wounds from two years ago), he hits the panic button. I, uh- I should probably hit the hay.

This swallows up the crumb of hope Devi was clinging to that maybe, just maybe, the whole thing wasn't as bad as she'd thought - and as we see in her following scene with Elfab, sure enough, she has been drowning in fear that she didn't measure up.

Girl... no he wasn't 😂 you were embarrassed for you, and Ben was embarrassed for Ben! [John McEnroe voice] That's how this works!

But it's just a great example of my very first point: that all of their thoughts, actions, and perceptions are based in insecurity right now. Fortunately for Devi, she has two supportive besties who know both her and Ben, who are here to talk and help her work through what to do next.

But as Ben tells Dwight Howard... he doesn't have any friends. So he resorts to a complete stranger.

I want to quickly point out the parallels between Ben & Devi's dialogue here (Devi in the last section and Ben in this one). They are both thinking about themselves. They're worried/making the assumption that the other person thought they... ehm... performed badly, and now they are confiding in other people rather than clearing it up with each other (because they're idiots [affectionate]).

Devi makes a great first step by inviting Ben out for coffee, and can I just say how PROUD I AM OF HER? Like, yes, love! Open up that avenue of communication! Talk it out! There's nothing to be afraid of!

But across the valley, Ben tells Dwight Howard that after having sex, Devi "didn't say anything, she just got up and sprinted out"... but that's not really what happened, is it? Ben fumbled the ball when he offered to call her an Uber, and Devi took that as her cue to leave. We (and Dwight) are listening to Ben's inaccurate retelling of events, skewed by the post-boink anxiety he's been stewing in. This boy who was once delighted that Devi turned over in bed to talk, has since repressed the mortifying moment that followed wherein he blew her off. Now all he remembers is her darting out the door.

In accordance with spoilers, it looks like Devi's Starbucks text comes through while Ben is still talking with Mr. Howard - and since Ben provided him with a misleading picture of how things went down, Dwight is going to tell him that Devi doesn't really love him. That she's just going to hurt him again. That he deserves someone who brings out the good in him. (All of this coming from a man who doesn't know Ben, has never even met Devi, and has no insight whatsoever into the relationship he's advising.)

Unfortunately for Devi (& us), this is Ben's biggest fear, so he listens. He takes the easy road yet again and pursues the less scary option... but she's still not Devi.

I truly believe that in the first few episodes when Ben talks to Devi, he is doing nothing more than basically parroting what others have told him. Why? Because those words will justify his urge to continue retreating to safety; they will enable him to avoid confronting his biggest emotional truth, something he's been running from for two years. As much as he obviously, clearly WANTS to give into his feelings for Devi, he's still afraid. And even though she's the one who hurt him, he still thinks she is incredible (which she is!!!), and that he couldn't possibly live up to what she deserves. There's so much to unpack here and I think this is a great way to make the events of season 2 a relevant topic again without being contrived.

Similar to Devi in seasons 2 & 3, I think Ben's arc is going to be about gaining the self-worth to stand on his own rather than passively agreeing to what others think he should do (i.e. Dwight and Margot).

The back half of the season will be Ben not only overcoming his greatest fear by talking with Devi and learning how deeply and genuinely she wants him this time around, but in doing so, he's going to become more confident in his relationship with her and learn to make his own decisions regarding it. He will learn that he can trust his own instincts again, no longer paralyzed by heartbreak or feelings of inferiority. He can trust Devi with his heart now. She's all in.

#we'll see how accurate this ends up being... i could be totally wrong bc this show loves to surprise. but that's my read so far #god i remember being stressed bc someone was like 'yeah ben tells her to take an uber home so that he can go to bed. and then he blew off- #-their starbucks date because she put a period in her text' or something like that jfdajsdnqwnefg like... Y'ALL... the clownery #benvi #ben x devi #never have i ever #nhie spoilers #ben gross #analysis post #for the record i am both a ben AND a devi apologist. what about it

[shelbgrey]

Time In A Bottle(young!Howard Stark X reader)

Paring: young!Howard X Carter!Reader

Summary: after a time machine going wrong a few faces from the past get knocked into our century.

A/N: this is an old story of mine that I posted on Wattpad a while back. It's not edited but I hope you all enjoy.

"can't believe how long it's been since you've been in the ice" I mumbled looking through a magazine that was just published. It was full of articles and pictures of Steve, my aunt peggie, and Howard Stark. I kept flipping through when I stopped on a picture of my aunt.

"you know you kinda look like her" Steve said standing behind the stool I was sitting on and looked over my shoulder looking at the picture of Peggy. I smiled and nodded. I was proud to be a Carter and I didn't hide it like my sister Sharon did. Before I could say anything else there was a loud crash coming for the lab. "what the hell was that?" I asked Tony who was sitting on the couch with pepper.

"you didn't leave anything on did you?" pepper asked. "it's probably just Bruce" Tony mumbled and got up.

"no because Bruce and natasha went on vacation... Remember?" tony stopped in his tracks and looked guilty. He knew exactly what he did he just wasn't ready to admit to what he did. "I'll be back" he said running towards the lab.

"miss. Carter, Mr stark has requested your assistance in the lab" I hear Friday call out from the speakers of the lab. I sighed and threw the magazine onto the coffee table and walked towards the lab. "Tony way do I always have to save your ass" I asked walking into the lab.

When I looked up I saw a treo of people serounding the time machine we've been working on for months. "who's your friends?" I asked crossing my arms. Tony tried to talk but I ignored him looking at three people. One that I recognized made my heart skip a beat.

"aunt Peggy?" I mumbled. She didn't hear me which I was thankful for. No need to add more to the confusion.

"how did you guys get here?" I asked my question was competly ignored and my aunt Peggy started to attack a man who looked like Tony. "Howard you buffoon I told you to not mess with that damed robot again"

"time machine!" Howard correct. "it's a time machine and it obviously worked so I'm a genius" he said with a smirk and crossed his arms over his chest with pride. Now we know where tony gets his ego. "what year is it miss?" the third one asked. He sounded like Jarvis just more human.

"2022" I said crossing my arms. As the three conversed with Tony and I couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes on me I looked over and noticed Howard staring at me. Howard was pretty handsome in his younger years. He looked at lot like Tony but maybe a bit taller. They both seemed to have the same attitude and the same eyes and hair.

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow questioning him. He simply winked and tried to get his two since in the conversation. After a few minutes of arguing we finally came to agreement.

"okay so they'll stay here In till we can figure out how to send them back home" I said walking to the time machine. It looked burnt to the crisp and refused to turn one. I sighed as I picked up a piece that fell off and sat on top of the waist of space.

"(y/n) why don't you show our guests around and show them where the extra rooms are" Tony said before I could escorts them to their destinations Peggy chimed in. "that won't be necessary" she said to me. "I think I can find my way around" she left the lab and literally walked the opposite direction of where she was supposed to go. I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes at the woman I shared blood with. "she's going the wrong way isn't she?" Howard asked clearly reading my expressions right.

"yup" I said turning to him. He flashed me a smirk and looked me up and down. "if the offer of a tour of our new living facilities are still open I would love if you'd show me around" I rolled my eyes at him. He was definitely cocky and very brave you could also tell him and Tony are related. I scoffed "fine" I then started to walk down the hallway as Howard tried to catch up with me.

-----------(1st pov)-----------

I tossed and turned in my bed. Once comfy bed felt like a brick and the room felt like a hundred degrees. Millions of things ran through my head. From the simplest things to more hectic things. My first thoughts were on my aunt and how hard it felt to tell her I was her blood or the fact me and Tony couldn't figure out how to send her back to the right time period.

It also felt wired that I couldn't get Howard out of my head. The man was indeed a charming man much like his son. He also held the same ego and sarcasm but he seemed to know when to hide it unlike Tony.

The man wouldn't leave me alone the rest of the day. He would follow me around the compound like a lost puppy or try to 'help' me in the lab. On the contrary I don't need help in my lab and I felt that he needed to know I don't need a man to help me get my job done. That's why I own my own lab because dispit Tony being my best friend it was always hard to do a job with out him breathing down my neck.

I sighed giving up on sleep and left my room. I quietly walked down the hallway trying not to wake anyone and headed into the kitchen for some tea and maybe a snack. I sighed rumgimg through the cabinets in the dim almost dark room.

"can't sleep either?" I voice said making me jump. I quickly turned around and saw Howard setting at the counter in the middle of the kitchen. He looked just as tired as I felt. His brown hair slightly wet from a shower but in some strainds of hair were fluffy and Stubele peppered his jaw. He was wearing a white t-shirt and blue jeans that Tony possibly gave him. Above all he was handsome I wasn't denying that but in the end I would have to stop myself from getting close to him. For his, mine, and especially Tony's sake.

"no I can't sleep too much on my mind" I sighed setting a crossed from him. He simply smirked and shook his head. "this hole thing is a mystery to me too. I think this is an amazing experience but then I want to get Peggy and Jarvis home where they belong"

"if ony Bruce was home, he's just as smart as you and Tony"

"your pretty intelligent yourself doll" he responded. His brown eyes looked at me and he smirked making me blush.

"me and Tony will try to get you home" I said. "I mean no rush... This time period can't be that bad could it?" he asked.

I titled my head to the side and my straight face broke to a smile. "are you kidding? I would love to live in the 40s"

"why?" he asked with a chuckle. "I Love the history, the music, the cars are my favorite" I smiled.

"you like cars?" he smirked like he was surprised. I slightly nodded and He looked amused.

"what was Steve like back then? I mean before the serum?" I asked breaking the silence.

"much like he is now I'm guessing. I didn't really know him much before he took the serum" he said drinking the last of his coffee. As we fell into comfortable silence I started to feel my eyes get heavy. I rested my elbow on the tabe and my head was supported by my  fist. "you look tired.. You should go back to bed..we gotta lot of work to do tomorrow" Howard smiled at me. I only nodded and stood up from the counter. I smiled and padded his shoulder. "get some sleep too Stark" he only nodded.

"good night doll" he called out as I left the room.

------------

The next morning I woke up before anyone else. It was pretty quiet which in my opinion was good. That ment Tony was getting the right amount of sleep he deserves and hopefully the rest of the team was doing the same.

I really didn't feel like working on the time machine before Tony and Howard got up so I just went down to the grauge where all the cars we owned sat. All of them were different in size in color. To Scott's rust bucket of a van to clint and Steve's motorcycles. I like to think my baby out shined them all. My car is back 1967 chivy impala. I worked hard to keep in shape and always made sure I ran to perfection.

I smiled at the black automobile and turned on my CD player. The silver machine flashed one and played Elvis Presley on a low volume. Tony and Clint always called me old school. I didn't use Bluetooth speakers to listen to music and I never saw the reason to by modern cars. I hated New music and new anything. I'm a old soul as steve would say. I loved old movies like Alfred Hitchcock movies or Friday the 13th. I refused to listen to any new music which annoyed Wanda and Peter in some ways.

I digged out the tools I needed and started tinkering under the hood. Things were going through smoothly in till I felt one bolt that wouldn't loosen. I grunted getting aritated and started to pull harder while cussing under my breath.

I then herd the door open and close. I ignored it and continued to work. So after the noises disappeared I felt someone come up behind me. The figure the bigger than mine and I felt his arms reach and grabbed the rinch I had. When I felt his chest against my back I quickly elbowed him. "hay doll I'm only trying to help" it was howard. I rolled my eyes and moved away from the car. "thanks but I got it" I said crossing my arms.

As I turned back around and finished my work on the engine. As I had my back to him I heard him snort and let out a sigh. I quickly wiped around and crossed my arms and Clinched the wrinch I had. "what?"

"nothing" he smiled and moved closer. I stepped back and leaned on my car. "your different from anyone I've ever met"

"oh?" I said not really amused but wanting to know what he meant. "you don't fall at my feet and you stand your ground" he explained. "your kind to me with out trying to be a flert and I really admire how smart you are"

"well... Thanks I think" I slightly blushed and turned back around before he could see. When I leaned over into the car under the hood I saw him move over to the side of the car in the corner of my eye. I sighed as he watched me closely as I worked.

When I went back to the bolt I was struggling with I pushed down as hard as I could and got it lose. But when I did I smashed my had making me hiss and pull back. I grumbled and shook my hand to hit rid of the pain. I squeezed my eyes shut not seeing Howard come up and grabbed my jammed hand in his hand. I opened my eyes and saw him looking down at my hand and rubbing where it hurt. "what are you doing?" I asked stepping back slowly.

"it's bruised let me see" he said taking my hand back and examining my thumb and palm. "im fine really" his chocolate eyes looked up at me making my heart race. My cheeks faded into a pink color and this time he saw it.

"I'm making you nervous, aren't I doll?" he asked kissing my knuckles then Releasing my hand. "n-no you don't" I said trying to stand my ground. I quickly turned around to my car and shut the hood. As soon as the hood shut with a thud I felt him behind me.

"so now your being shy around me?" he asked and kissed my cheek then my jaw. "what happened to your little attitude?" I sighed and turned around facing him. One of his hands fell to my hip and his other went under my chin lifting it up so we made eye contact. "we should see if Tony's up" I whispered.

He leaned in closer brushing his nose to mine. "he's not up yet" his brown eyes stared into my soul as his free hand moved to the back of my neck and pulled me closer. "can I kiss you?"

His question surprised me. I wanted to say yes but when I stared into his brown eyes all I saw was tony. What would he think or react to his best friend kissing a young version of his father. He would always tell me how much he hated Howard and I was always Tony's shoulder to cry on and was always there to listen when he needed to rant about his father.

"I can't" I whispered as I placed my hands on his chest as a single tear left the corner of my eye. "we- I cant do this to tony" he looked at me with hurt and confusion glossing over his eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to over step-" he started but I cut him off.

"I'm sorry... It's not you" I shook my head and left his arms. "I should get to work Tony's probably waiting" I said leaving him alone in the garage.

-----------

"sorry about intrupting your vacation Bruce" I said crossing my arms and looking at him through the screen. "we wouldn't have called you unless it wasn't important" I said.

"don't worry about, sorry I cant be there to help" he responds. "no, you and natasha deserve to get away"

"wait I've got a quick question" Scott said behind me. "what?" me and Bruce said at the same time.

"so if Howard doesn't get back to his normal time period doesn't that mess up Tony's chance of being born?"

"no not necessarily" I said hoping up on my desk and flipping through my notebook of notes we've taken the last month.

"most likely when Howard and Peggy went into the future they made a different time line" Tony chimed in.

"wait, what do you mean?" Peggy asked crossing her arms. I looked over to my aunt and Howard. Howard avoided looking at me which made me upset but that was the least of my problems.

"okay like 5 or so years ago a member of the X-men had to trave into the future to fix something. Now when he did he made two different time lines. The one he was originally from the a different one...kinda like an alternate reality" I explained. "now if Tony's right you being here won't affect the past."

"so ignore everything you learned from back to the future Scott" Bruce committed through my computer.

"what if we don't want to go back?" Howard spoke up. Peggy whipped her head around and glared at him. "and take the chance of messing up the future? Messing up the chance of your son being born?" he said kinda shouting at him.

"aunt Peggy" I started she turned around and looked at me without any of the aggretion she gave Howard. "if you trave to the past or the future, that becomes your future/past and the your  future becomes the present. Which now can't be changed by your new future"

"so we could stay here if we wanted?" she asked looking at Steve. He was in the back of the lab trying to stay out of the way. "it's a risk to take, but most likely yes" Tony responded.

"we need to look more into it before you guys make any decisions" I said looking at Peggy then Howard. He immediately looked down and started to fiddle with button on the sleeve of his gray dress shirt.

------------

Another week passed and we got a little bit closer at cracking the codes. Last week we were lucky enough to get Shuri to trave from Wakanda and help us. Me and her worked into the night so Tony and Howard could get sleep and then we got sleep in the early mornings.

"almost done with the coding on this" shuri said taping on one of the hologram screens in the lab. "I'm putting in the last of the wiring now" I respond twisting the red and blue wire together then closing the lid to cover it. Before I could continue with anything else the alarm went off signaling there was a mission.

I sighed and ran off after apologizing to shuri for ditching her. "what do we got?" I asked running into the jet were everyone else was. "just a standard Hydra base, nothing we aren't already use to" steve said.

The mission was longer than we intesapated and a lot of us got engerd especially me but I didn't really care. When we got home I tried to go to bed but Tony and Steve dragged me to the lab were Howard was working with Shuri. "what happened?" he asked as steve picked me up and sat me on Tony's desk. "I'm fine" I mumbled.

"Howard check her enjeries will ya" Steve said walking out of the lab. "I'm fine really" I said as Howard rolled up my sleeve to check the cut on my arm.

"so what happened?" he asked cleaning the cut that was on my forehead. "it was just harder than we expected... More weapons and better sacurity than we thought" I replied and tried to leave but he pushed me back down. "come on Stark"

"you know it's not a bad thing to get help some times" he said kinda irritated. I sighed and let him help. "thanks" I mumbled.

"your welcome" he simply replied and wrapped up my forearm with a bandeges. "I'm only trying to help ya know" he said breaking the silence.

"I know" I mumbled looking down not wanting to face him. He didn't seem to like that so he gently lifted my chin with his fingers. I looked into his brown eyes and felt the familiar feeling. My heart pounded as he leaned in closer than pressed his lips to mine softly. I surprisingly didn't push him away I let it happen. I felt his hands move to both sides of my jaw and pulled me close as he depend the kiss. "Howie.." I said.

He only hummed. "I like that" he said against my lips smirking. He tilted his head to the side for another but placed my hands on his chest stopping him.

"okay I'm sorry" he whispered.

"I'm not, but I can't get attached" I said. "why?" he asked looking scared of rejection. "because we live in two different worlds and time periods.. We have to get you back home" I said tearing up. I moved away and left him but he quickly grabbed my hand before I could get to far.

"you can honestly tell me you feel nothing for me" he spoke.

"yes... I have feelings for you Howard" I said with a whimper.

"then-then what's wrong? Why can't we be together?" he said stepping up closer. "you really want to know why?" I spoke getting frustrated.

"yes! I want to know why" he said shouting. "because I don't trust myself with you" I whispered. I wanted to hug him, kiss him, but I couldn't. The idea of being with someone always seemed to be slim or negative for me. I did care about him but I was scared.

------------

"have you seen my father?" Tony asked coming into the kitchen where I was reading.  "how should I know? I'm not his babysitter" I said not looking up from my book.

"well I just noticed how he started following you around like a lost puppy" he said setting down in front of me. I looked up from my book and locked eyes with genius. "what are you implying?"

He tilted his head to the side like he didn't know what I was talking about. He gave me the soft puppy eyes he always gave me when he knew something was wrong. "okay forget my father, are you okay?"

I shook my head and felt the clinch in my chest as I tried to hold back the tears. "me and Howard kiss" I sob and covered my face afraid of his reaction.

"did he kiss you?"

"yes" I responded

"did you kiss back?"

"I'm sorry Tony, I tried to not get close bu-"

"I'm not mad" he said cutting me off. I raised my droppie head and gave him and questioning look. "why aren't you mad? You always told me how much you hated your father, now I'm starting to fall for him"

"it's okay" he whispered then wrapped his arms around me. "he just better not hurt you"

"it doesn't matter" I spoke pulling away from his arms. "once we get the time machine to work he's going back home.. It would have never worked between us"

"I'm sorry (n/n)" he wrapped his arms around me again and rested my head on his shoulder. "we'll figure this out okay?"

"okay" I mumbled.

----------(Howard's pov)----------

"okay let's start it up" Tony shouts. The machine that's supposed to take us home fired up. I stood there not really wanting to leave and I could tell Peggy didn't want to leave either.

I watched the time machine glow and slightly shake signaling us it was time to leave. I sighed feeling bad that I didn't tell (y/n) goodbye. She was probably the first woman a genuinely loved and was more than a fling or lust. She was smart and sarcastic and didn't fall to my feet when first met her. She made me work for her affection and attention which I actually liked and I worked hard for it.

The times she pushed me away only told me she cared more about other people's happiness than her own. She had a heart of gold and I admired that. She pushed me away because she was afraid of hurting Tony.

"wait" Peggy's voice said grabbing my arm. I looked at her kinda sad and stood in my place. "do you love her?"

I tilted my head to the side trying to play dumb. "don't you look at me like that, you know what I'm thinking about" she said.

I dropped my head and sighed. "I do" i shook my head and started fiddling with the insides of the pockets of my jeans. "than go to her" she said crossing her arms. "stay here and be happy"

"what if effects something? What if I screw up the time line?" I asked pacing back and forth.

"you won't" Tony butted in. "I've talked to Bruce and Strange, and they both said you can't mess it up" I looked down not wanting to look at the man that would be my son in the future. "look she loves you so just stay with her" he said with a sigh. He had the look of someone being forced to say something they didn't.

"I don'-" I started. "go!" Jarvis and Peggy both said at the same time cutting me off.

I nodded and ran out of the room than down the hallway looking for her. I frantically looked around and found a lot of dead ends before I found her in one of the labs. "hay" I said casually.

She quickly looked at me with big dough eyes. "aren't you supposed to be back in the 40's now?"

"I've come to a conclusion" I said walking up to her. "and what is that?" she said crossing her arms. "I'm staying here"

She stared at me with shock painted all over her face. "why would you? What dose this time period have to offer really?"

"you" I said truthfully and stepped up closer maybe only leaving five inches between us. "I want to stay here with you"

I placed my hand on her cheek and slowly leaned in connecting my lips to hers. I felt her arms slowly wrap around my neck and deepen the kiss.

"I love you" I whispered against her lips.

She slowly pulled away and smirked. "I know" I playfully rolled my eyes knowing she was joking. I kissed her forehead and smiled. "your gonna have to teach me about modern time though"

"oh that should be tons of fun" she chuckled than wrapped her small arms around my waist.

"is Peggy staying too?" her small voice spoke making me sighed. She's going back for me, for us. She was on of my closest friends and she's giving up the opportunity to be with steve just so I could be with (y/n). She told me of one of us stays someone needs to be on the 40's keeping it safe. She also told me to keep her safe because (y/n) was her niece. Even though the the two just met you could tell how much Peggy loved her. "she's going back so I could stay with you"

"she also told me to take care of you and if I break your heart she'll come back and kick my ass" I said trying to make her smile. She sadly smiled and looked up at me with her (e/c) eyes.

Everything happens for a reason. I was supposed to screw up with the time machine so it would take us into the future. I like to think I was supposed to find (y/n) and maybe I was supposed to make myself a better father to tony. What ever it supposed to be its definitely a second chance and I'm grateful for that.

#Howard Stark #Howard Stark X reader #Howard Stark imagibes #agent carter #Dominac Cooper #Marvel imagines #Mcu #Mcu x reader #Peggie Carter x reader #Peggie Carter imagines #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers imagines #Tony stark x reader #Tony stark imagines #Bruce banner x reader #Bruce banner imagines #Jarvis