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#angsty! bucky
catastrxblues · 1 year
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i love ao3 but tumblr fanfics just hit different 😩😩
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sparklefics · 1 year
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Losing you
Bucky & avenger!reader
WC: 1,185
Summary: a near death experience puts things in perspective.
Warnings: near death experience (not detailed tho), mentions of injury and blood. Language!
I wrote a thing!! It’s been months since I’ve been inspired/ had time to write. Here’s a little angsty fluff.
Gif not mine.
[Masterlist]
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Since you joined the team you’ve gotten along with everyone. Missions are successful at least 90 percent of the time.
For the last nine months you’ve been partnering up with Bucky. He’s damn good at his job and you get along just fine, at least when you’re on the field.
Off the field is an entirely different story.
It’s not so much that you don’t get along, it’s just you don’t hang out outside of work. The only time you ‘hang out’ is during training.
You wouldn’t consider him a friend— at least not like Sam is. Bucky is merely your teammate, your partner.
Normally Bucky is cool, calm and collected until the day you get hurt in the field.
“Star, come in.” Bucky speaks through the comms but is only met with silence so he tries again. “Agent Star, come in!”
Star is the code name Sam gave you when you joined his crusade as Captain America. He liked to joke around about his Stars and Stripes and the Sentinel of Liberty, respectively you, Joaquin and Bucky.
Bucky turns back to the last checkpoint and his body goes rigid as he takes in the scene before him. There you are laying on a puddle of blood—yours, he realizes.
He doesn’t take the time to over analyze what went down, all he cares about right now is getting you to safety.
—————
It’s scary to put so much on someone. To let them be your everything, he hadn’t realized that was what had happened. To him you were just his partner.
Until he almost lost you.
That’s when he realized what’s really at stake here. Not only your life, but his happiness.
—————
Three days, that’s how long it takes for you to wake up.
“Ow. That hurt.” You groan and hear Sam chuckle, when you bat your eyes open you see Bucky storming out of the room.
“That’s not funny, Star.” Sam says. “You scared us. How come you didn’t call for backup?”
“How long was I out?”
“Three days. And yes, he was here the whole time, barely got him to eat and shower.”
“Where’s Stripes?” You deflect and ask about Joaquin.
“Coffee run.” Sam stares towards the doorway and sighs. “Buck was the one that found you.”
“Hmm. I think he might be mad at me— you know for almost dying.”
“He’s entitled to that, you’re his partner after all.”
—————
Bucky never comes back to the med bay. In fact you don’t see him for weeks, until you’ve been given the all clear to go back out on the field.
You approach him silently at the gym while he’s pummeling a punching bag. Three bags already discarded after he ripped them open.
“Hey Liberty!”
“Don’t call me that. You know I fucking hate it.”
“Are you still mad at me?”
“Who said I was?” He turns around and you’re not ready for that tender look he gives you. A mixture of guilt that you almost died on his watch and something else you can’t pinpoint and it almost makes you think that he might actually care.
As scary as it was, almost dying put so much in perspective for you. First thing’s first, before you passed out on the field your very last thought was Bucky’s smile. That was strange…yes, he’s your partner but you were about to die and your last thought was of him not begging for help just one last smile of Bucky’s.
Secondly, it felt so off and hurtful seeing him walk out as soon as you woke up. You didn’t know why it hurt but the fact that it did meant that you wanted him there when you woke up. Or at least you expected him to be there, he is your partner after all.
You almost lost everything.
You almost lost him.
It’s infuriating how he managed to become something more than just your partner without you even realizing it. Though all your anger dissipates with the look he gives you. None of it matters when he’s looking at you and touching you so delicately.
Bucky traces a finger ever so delicately over the still fading bruise on your cheek bone.
You hadn’t realized he’d been standing so close to you. Or why the disheveled look he’s got going on looks so good on him. Has he ever looked better? Yes, but today he looks kinda hot and vulnerable, in a way that you just wanna comfort him, run your hands through his hair, cuddle the shit out of him.
Out of nowhere you grab his face and kiss him— on the lips!
“You can’t blame me for that. I almost died.”
You murmured against his lips. And to your surprise he doesn’t pull back, instead he deepens the kiss.
“Shut up, I'm still mad at you.” He mumbles against your lips.
“Ha!” You pull back just enough to slap a hand on his chest. “I knew it! You are mad at me!”
Bucky pulls you right back to his arms and rests his forehead on yours. “I’m just…I can’t lose anyone else. Do you understand?”
You nod.
“I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at myself. You got hurt out there, I should’ve—”
You pull back to look him in the eyes, “James Buchanan Barnes it is not your fault I got hurt. I should’ve called for backup, it’s not your responsibility to keep me safe.”
“Yes it is. You’re my partner.”
“You say that like it means something else. What are you really trying to say, Sarge?”
As if the kiss you two shared hadn’t made it clear this certainly would.
“Star, you are everything to me.”
And your anger makes an appearance again, you pull away from him. “I’m finding that a little hard to believe, cause since I woke up all you’ve done is avoid me.”
“I’m just— seeing you there in a puddle of blood it fucked me up.”
“Waking up and seeing my partner walking out on me fucked me up. You were the last thing on my mind before I passed out. I was trying to call for— I was going to call for you when I blacked out. Then I wake up and see you walk out the door and never come back.”
This isn’t how Bucky pictured this moment. It should’ve gone like in the movies. You both admit your feelings, kiss and voila: happy ending. Not you angry at him, with unshed tears in your eyes.
“I’m sorry I’m an idiot that can’t handle his own feelings. But I love you. I need you to know that. I love you.” He squeezes your hands.
“That’s the thing Bubba, I love you too. So don’t you dare walk out on me ever again.”
You pull him in for a hug and you climb on him like a koala, arms around his shoulders and legs around his torso. He tells you he loves you again and assures you that he’s not going anywhere without you. “Well then, take me to my room. You owe me three weeks worth of cuddles.”
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thestarkinternship · 1 month
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Whenever, Wherever
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Angst)
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Summary: As Bucky's nightmares about his time as The Winter Soldier continue to plague him, there is only one person who can help him through it.
Word Count: 2.5k (No mention of Y/N)
Warnings: mention of graphic violence (we know what happened to Maria and Howard), angsty! Bucky
A/N: This is loosely inspired by the chorus of the song 'Whenever, Wherever'. I don't know, I just thought it made a good writing prompt.
Masterlist
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“Ready to comply."
James' metal hand flexed around the accelerator of the motorcycle, giving it a tight squeeze. Its shiny edges glinted under the light of the full moon. His body moulded into the supple, leather seat like it was made for him. Still his rigid body refused to relax. The powerful engine revved as the bike shuddered to life beneath him, gearing up to go. Gas gurgled out from the exhaust, cutting through the thick silence of the quiet evening.  One swift kick up on the safety bar and the bike was now fully under his strong control.  Releasing the clutch, he sped off into the distant night.
Weaving through the inner-city traffic was effortless for him, the numbered streets mapped out in his mind. Standstill cars hummed patiently for the lazy traffic lights to turn green, but James didn't have time for that. Cutting through the backstreets of Washington, he quickened his pace. A light breeze swept his mass of dark hair back, exposing the heavy mask tightly secured across the lower half of his face. Each passing block was filled with clueless individuals too wrapped up in their own business to notice the mysterious stranger.  The city was simply a colourful blur to James as he made his way towards the outskirts of town. Skyscrapers and apartment buildings faded into quiet suburban homes. Soon enough, the buzz of the city was long forgotten, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
James' mission was clear: retrieve the new variant of the serum. Leave no witnesses. The orders burned deep into the depths of The Winter Soldier's mind. He could think of little else as he continued on track towards his target.
The glow from the city lights faded until only the bike's headlights remained. Heavy trees hung overhead, closing in on James as they cast out the moonlight. His wheels crunched over the gravel of the barren, country path. Dirt spat out behind the tyres, leaving murky clouds that hovered in the air behind him. It was a foggy view for anyone who might be watching him.
He wasn’t far off now – his target had only a mere half an hour head start. His grip on the accelerator hardened, propelling him further into the night. The motorcycle's rumble grew until it was all James could hear.
And there it was. Just a few hundred yards ahead of him was the unmistakable red burn of a car's rear lights. It couldn't have been going more than 20mph.
Now was his time.
James made a sharp right turn, barrelling himself down into the woodland surroundings. He drove down the steep bank until he was concealed from the view of the main path. The tyres bounced across the rough earth, shaking him in his seat. His thighs squeezed against the warm bike, maintaining his grip. Gently steering around the thick tree trunks ahead of him, he slowly edged the bike forwards across the rugged ground against its will. He was parallel with the target now, but it wasn't enough. James' right knuckles bared white as his desperation to overtake them grew. Glancing down at the speedometer in front of him, his jaw hardened. He could do better than that.
Just a little more.
He didn't let up until he could no longer hear the target car's engine behind him and he was alone again. Veering upwards, the bike strained under James' demanding grasp. As he reached the edge of the treeline, James finally allowed the bike some refuge as he came to a halt. He slid the heavy bike to the pine needle floor with a soft thud. James paced forwards until he got to the road clearing. Concealing himself in the shrubs outlining the road, he froze in a poised crouch.
The Winter Soldier took a deep breath and cleared his mind. He listened out for the low hums of the fast-approaching car. At first, there was nothing but the leaves as they scratched against each other in the breeze. Exhaling, James closed his eyes and allowed his heightened senses to search his surroundings.
A delicate bird song. An owl crooned overhead. The scuttle of a wood mouse, burrowing deep into the ground. And then pounding gravel.
He could just about make out the constant switch between the gas pedal and squeaking brakes as the car grew nearer.  Allowing his eyes to open, he saw long shadows form behind the trees. They stretched tall in all directions, ghostly branches curling their wicked fingers that beckoned the car forwards in his direction. The dim headlights finally broke out into the clearing ahead. James counted the passing seconds as he waited for the target to finally be in his reach.
One. Two. Three.
Springing forwards, James swiped his left arm out at the closest front tyre. A putrid, burning scent filled the air as the titanium arm sliced through the soft rubber. Vibrations rooted through the metal and spread up all the way to his shoulder. Rolling it back, he straightened himself back out. Screeching pierced his ears whilst the car rolled out of control. Tyre marks dug deep into the soft dirt as it lost its grip on the road. His eyes narrowed as the bonnet wrapped its way around a nearby tree. It finally came to a halt. A warbling alarm faded into silence, too destroyed to cry out for help. The dented metal sprang free as smoke erupted into dark clouds above him. It billowed out in the wind, travelling back towards the city James had left behind long ago.
As he approached the wreckage, he finally got a clear view of the two witnesses. A man and a woman. She was slumped back in the passenger seat, sticky blood trickling down her pale face. The seatbelt had imprinted on her fair skin, leaving a deep, maroon mark. Her shoulders were slung back into the leather, struggling to lift with each faltering breath.
The man was a different story. He convulsed as he struggled in the compressed front end of the vehicle. His hands flapped at the seatbelt as it welded itself into the trapped buckle. Rocking back and forth, his feeble attempts at escape were short lived.
Tucked away on the backseat, a shiny briefcase laid unharmed. The Winter Soldier's glare darted back and forth between that and his own reflection the window. His eyes were dark pools, his pupils dilated with greed as he locked onto the prized serum. Hard grooves across his forehead dipped down into furrowed brows. Sweat silently dripped down past his mask and onto the floor.
He watched as his metal arm flexed in the window, before colliding with the reinforced glass.  Tiny shards shattered out in every possible direction. They littered the floor and turned to dust under James' heavy steps. Cracks splintered through the pieces still clinging onto the window frame. With the barrier gone, he was brought face to face with his witnesses.
Howard Stark's pleading eyes flickered between James and his dying wife. His face softened at the sight of this shadowed stranger who just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Someone had come to save them.
"Help... my wife." His deep voice choked.
The Winter Soldier stayed silent, the only noise from the witnesses’ exasperated breaths. Howard dipped his head level to the window to get a better look at his saviour.
The hope in his voice was soon replaced by dread as he finally recognised the man standing before him. "Sergeant Barnes?"
There was no more time for games. James curled his metal fingers into a tight fist. Built up rage flowing through the titanium as he brought his heavy arm down on Howard's face.
Bucky jolted up in the darkness. It engulfed him like an endless void. Robbed of his sight, Bucky had never felt as lost as he did in that second. His heart pounded with each rapid breath, fighting to get out of his bare chest. The heavy exhales filled the quiet room. Around his neck, the wartime dog tags tinkered against each other, leaving a ringing in his ears. The chain rubbed against the back of his neck. The metal links melted into his skin with his body heat, and small beads of sweat slid down the cool metal before dropping onto the surface around him. He grasped out in the darkness, feeling nothing but fistfuls of clammy bedsheets. The cotton material swaddling his body reminded him of where he truly was. He was at home. He was safe. The nightmare was over, but disturbing images still lingered in the stiff, summer air of the hot bedroom. 
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Bucky began to make out shadowed shapes in the room surrounding him. He spared a glance at your sleeping body next to him. Wrapped up in the soft sheets, you looked so peaceful letting out faint snores as you slept blissfully unaware of Bucky's late-night turmoil. Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss on your head. Murmuring softly, you rolled over but thankfully didn't stir.
Gripping the mattress with shaky hands, he planted unstable legs on the wooden floor. Bucky inched himself off of the bed as not to disturb you. Pacing across the room to the window, he carefully wedged it open. Bucky clutched onto the window ledge, his fingertips tracing over the soft grooves in the woodwork. He focused on the patterns whilst his harsh breaths struggled to return to their normal rhythm.  A midnight breeze blew into the room, tickling along his hardened jawline until his red face cooled. The streetlamps flooded the bedroom. Distant sirens and soft chatter drifted in from the busy Brooklyn streets down below, bringing Bucky completely back to reality as relief washed over him.  
"Bucky? Are you awake?" Your tiny voice whispered out of nowhere.
He rocked on his heels to face you. Your delicate features were lit up by a sliver of moonlight that streamed in from the open blinds. Even in the low lighting, Bucky could see how your sleepy expression distorted into one of concern from the moment he turned around.
"I'm fine. I was just a little warm. I wanted some fresh air." He sighed.
Bucky steadied his agitated body. The floorboards creaked under the heavy weight of his body and mind as he made his way back towards your bed. He clambered under the sheets, sliding his body next to yours
"Are you okay? You feel flushed," worry settled in your voice as you pressed a small hand against his chest, "your heart's beating like crazy."
Bucky let out a sigh.
"You had another nightmare." You stated, rather than questioning.
"He was back. The Winter Soldier. I was him again." He whispered.
You turned until you were face to face. Reaching out in the darkness, you pulled him in close until his face was buried in the crook of your shoulder. Bucky's arms fell limp in your lap as he just allowed you to hold him.
Your round eyes drooped with sympathy. "You know you don't have to keep anything from me. I'm always going to be here for you, Buck."
Salty tears collected in his tired eyes before silently glided down his face. His body went rigid in an attempt to mask his feelings. Bucky pressed his face harder into your mass of tangles, breathing in the light scent of shampoo. His shoulders jerked with every fallen tear. He always hated it when you saw him like this.
Sitting up in the bed, you cradled Bucky's contorted face in your palms. His bottom lip quivered as he was unable to supress his upset any longer. The tears broke out into continuous stream down his face. You wiped a thumb across the bags under his eyes that had accumulated from too many similar sleepless nights, sweeping away his tears.
"Oh, Bucky," you crooned, wrapping your arms around his shaking body, "talk to me about it."
"It was the night I killed Tony's parents." His voice cracked, muffling against your shoulder.
"What happened?"
"I was trying to get the Super Soldier serum. I was back on my old motorcycle, tracking them down. God, it felt so real. I could feel Howard's skull beneath my hand. It broke under my fist. His head cracked open and there was so much blood. I couldn't get it off of me. It was trapped in the hollows of vibranium in my arm. I swear, I could feel it seeping into my body. I still can." Bucky cried.
Tongue clicking, your kind heart broke for him. Rubbing a hand up and down his back, you allowed him to weep until there were no more tears left for him to cry. Bucky's sobs eventually faded into muffled sniffles.
"That wasn't you," you reassured, "you're not that person anymore."
"I can't escape him. The Winter Soldier - he's always going to be there." Bucky exasperated.
"He took up a big part of your life," you murmured softly, "he won't disappear from you straight away, you know that right? I can't pretend to understand what you went through in those times, but I'm always going to do my best. I'm always here to listen and support you as much as I possibly can."
Bucky's face fell and he confided in his love. "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm pushing you away. You shouldn't have to do this for me, and it makes me feel guilty."
Gently, you tilted his chin up to look into his scared eyes. "Do you remember those vows we made two years ago?"
"For better or for worse." He recalled. Like he could ever forget the happiest day of his life.
"Exactly. For better or for worse. That includes your past as The Winter Soldier. No matter how long ago it happened, these feelings are bound to surface, and we've just got to work through them when they do. It'll take time, but what's time to a 107-year-old super soldier?"
Bucky's dry lips curled up into a small smile for the first time since he'd awoken. You always knew exactly what to say to cheer him up, even in the worst of times.
“I love you." He breathed.
"I love you too," you leant back into the mattress on your side, opening your arms to him, "now, come here."
Bucky obliged, pulling the warm duvet around you both. You hooked an arm under his neck, draping the other over his side in a tight embrace. Your fingertips traced the raised lettering of his silver dog tags whilst you spooned his worn-out body. Running your other hand through the soft peaks of his hair, you uncombed the knots that had gathered with his constant tossing and turning. Bucky lulled in the comfort of your soothing movements, finding peace with the gentle motion. His breathing slowed as he finally succumbed to sleep. This time was much more pleasant than the last. You lazily peppered small kisses along the back of his shoulder and neck, until your lips hovered around his ear.
"Everything's going to be okay. You're going to be okay." You whispered.
"Whenever?" He mumbled.
"Wherever. We're meant to be together." You affirmed. "I'll be there."
"You'll be near?" Bucky begged.
"That's our deal, my dear."
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spaceslayer · 1 year
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I didn’t have a choice.
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ace-bucket · 8 months
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Buckytober Day 4: Despair
Buckytober Prompt List
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Illicit affairs (chapter 2)
Chapter 1
Summary: Bucky and Y/n are in arranged marriage. Bucky is having an affair. This is all it is about... Let's see where Y/n's fate lies... Should we?
Pairings: Bucky x reader, Bucky x Dot ...
Genre: angst, affair, unrequited love
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next day
Y/n's POV
The tea kettle's loud whistle pulled me back from my thoughts, and I remembered a moment—a moment that stung with disappointment.
As I took down the tea, the warmth of the steam evoked the chilling recollection of our wedding night. In the intimate dance of shared vows and whispered promises, Bucky's words had pierced the veil of anticipation. "Don't ever expect anything from this marriage," he had declared, the weight of his words settling like a heavy shroud.
The routine of making tea felt a bit sad, each step taking me back to that night. The sounds of cups and boiling water seemed to replay that moment when our hopes started to crumble.
As I lifted the cup, it held not just tea but also memories. The warmth of the liquid was mixed with the bitterness of that night, a night where promises felt broken. The smell of the tea carried the ghosts of our wedding, a reminder of a vow that seemed to fade, and the quiet acceptance of a marriage that had lost its sparkle.
I sigh when I see he's gone, probably meeting her under the excuse of jogging. Disappointment settles in my chest, and it feels like trust is slipping away. The air is thick with things we're not saying, and I take a deep breath to steady myself.
I decide to hit the supermarket while he is away, so I head to our shared bedroom to get ready.
half an hour later
at supermarket
In the bustling mart, my eyes catch a plushie perched high on the shelf. A whimsical desire takes hold, but I bite my lip, hesitating—I'm a grown woman, after all. Glancing around, I make sure no one's watching, and then, in a spontaneous moment, I decide to go for it.
Standing on my toes, I reach, my fingers brushing the soft plushie. Just as I stretch, someone's chest presses against my back. Startled, I turn to find a tall figure in a leather jacket, their presence both surprising and comforting.
Those green eyes meet mine, the contrast between the familiar and the unknown. Bucky's eyes held the depth of the sea, turbulent and mysterious, while this stranger's gaze resembled something serene about them, like a forest bathed in sunlight. It's a peaceful encounter, and for a moment, I forget the complexities that linger in the shadows. Unlike the stormy intensity of Bucky's ocean-blue gaze, these eyes carried a calm, a sense of peaceful allure that drew me in. With dark blonde hair and a hint of freckles, this stranger feels like a breath of fresh air, a divergence from the familiar.
Startled by the sudden closeness, I gasp and take an involuntary step back. My retreat, however, is met with a minor mishap—I lightly crash into the shelves. In that split second, just as I brace for impact, I feel the stranger's hand at the back of my head. It's a gentle touch, preventing my head from making contact with the shelves, even though the impact would have been light. The unexpected act of kindness leaves me momentarily flustered, caught between embarrassment and gratitude.
"I-I-..I'm sorry," I stutter, feeling the heat creeping up to my cheeks. Suddenly, words escape me, and I find myself at a loss, caught between embarrassment and an unspoken gratitude for the stranger's unexpected kindness.
"Are you okay?" I manage to ask, my heart beating a little faster. There's an unfamiliar feeling swirling within me, and for the first time in my life, it feels right.
The man chuckles, a light shake of his head accompanied by a crinkle near his eyes. He smirks, revealing a set of little white teeth, and speaks softly, "No worries, my lady… Actually, I should be the one asking you, are you okay, miss?" His green eyes lock onto mine, and a warmth spreads through me. I gulp down the breath that got punched out of me and find myself nodding, still unable to find words for the whirlwind of emotions. My brain insists it's wrong, but my heart seems to have its own answer ready.
In that fleeting moment, it feels like time stops. I find myself smiling, trying to take in every detail of his form—the way he styles himself, his unique way of speaking. It's as if everything about him becomes the focus in that small span of time—a love at first sight that catches me off guard.
8 months earlier
Dot's POV
"I can do it," I tell myself, taking a deep breath before entering the interview. My head held high, I step into the room, the confident click-clack of my heels echoing against the marble floor.
2 hours later
Walking through the park, I find a bench, sighing sadly as I take a seat. Muttering to myself, "Ugh, not again," I slump down, frustration evident in my sighs. "Why do I always get nervous?!" I groan, burying my head in my hands. "At this rate, I'll stay poor for the rest of my life," I whine, feeling overwhelmed.
Suddenly, a handkerchief touches me, and I look up to see a handsome man extending it towards me. His ocean-blue eyes draw me in, and for a moment, I'm lost, drowning in their depths. It takes me a few minutes to realize I've been staring, and I snap out of my thoughts, shaking my head. I smile at the man, stuttering, "Oh, I...th-thank you, sir. I'm sorry. You really didn't have to stop to help me, but thank you," I say, grateful and slightly flustered.
"Oh, my mother taught me better than to ever leave a crying woman or to ever make a woman cry," the man replies, smirking charmingly with a wink and adds "Especially when it's a beautiful woman like you, miss." As those words leave his lips, it's as if the man's looks, which were already a source of fluttering butterflies, now weave a spell on my heart. I feel a blush creeping up as I glance down, nodding shyly in acknowledgment. "Thank you," I murmur softly, accepting the handkerchief with a light touch, my heart still dancing to the charming melody of his words.
"So, if you don't mind me asking, not trying to be nosy, but may I know why you are crying, beautiful?" The man asks, taking a seat beside me while maintaining a respectable distance. His blue eyes, as usual, lock onto my brown ones, managing to steal my breath away. I maintain my composure, nodding as I reply, "Just knowing I messed up my job interview." Sighing, I look down, my fingers clenching the soft fabrics of the given handkerchief, my lower lip caught between my teeth as I reflect on the interview.
The sound of a clap pulls me out of my thoughts, and I find the man smiling at me. "Oo! I think I know how to bring up your mood…Wanna have a cup of coffee with me? I know the best place." I look at him, unsure, considering he's still a stranger. Before I can voice my thoughts, he continues, "Oh! Sorry…I forgot to introduce myself. I'm James… James Buchanan Barnes. In short, Bucky or Buck." He extends his hand as he introduces himself.
I smile involuntarily as I take his hand and shake it. "Pleasure to meet you, James. I'm Dottore… Just call me Dot," I introduce myself with a hint of warmth in my smile.
Third person's POV
Who would've thought that this random meeting could turn into something so special? It became a beautiful story, defying expectations and creating a connection that wasn't supposed to happen. From a simple park encounter, something magical unfolded—a tale of love that wasn't allowed, something forbidden, filled with both joy and heartbreak. In simple words, it turned into an 'Illicit Affair,' a story written by fate and emotions, painting a picture of love in unexpected places.
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Bitter always follows the sweet,
especially when it comes to love.
Especially when it comes to forbidden love.
-Karina Halle
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(WANNA GUESS THE GUY WHO Y/N MET AT THE SUPERMARKET?😆I GAVE ENOUGH HINTS...EVEN THOUGH THEY ARE HIS FACE FEATURES 🤭 BUT HE IS FROM SOMETHING SUPERNATURAL GENRE TV SERIES AND OLD ONE)
Note: Hey guys! Hope you like it. English is actually my second language so if there's any mistake you can inform me by messaging me privately. And PLEASE REBLOG AND DON'T STEAL MY WORK. Please like and comment too so, that I can know your views. Thank you for reading guys! Have a nice day and please comment if you wanna be tagged in.
Taglist: @angstysebfan @cjand10@learisa@themorningsunshine @binkszamsstuff
@dreamerglassesgirl @winterslove1917 @perfectpieslimeprune @nikkivillar @bethexo07 @vicmc624 @pattiemac1 @ozwriterchick
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majorbuckyegan · 2 months
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"Yeah, well, that's easy for you to say, isn't it?" He snapped, "We all know what you're rushing home to, since you never shut the hell up about it. Marge, this. Marge, that. Give me a fucking break." (x)
(Credit to some of the episode 7 screencaps: @itstheheebiejeebies 🫶)
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babyjackdaniels · 1 month
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cedarshade · 1 year
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drew the silly white boy
it's been a while old friend
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ihearteugeneroe · 3 months
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im having so many feelings about john and gale in the new episode and i NEED to share them. buckle up guys this is a long one because this last episode was angsty for these two and i love psychoanalysis
HUGEEE MOTA SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!
first and foremost, john is absolutely not okay. like i know we have seen this so many times already because he’s been on a mental decline since episode six but it’s gotten worse. the beginning scenes where him and gale fetch the water and gale tries to create some playful banter only to receive a mostly silent john is scary, especially because he knows that man is a chatterbox that can’t shut up to save his life. something has changed and gale knows, but gale doesn’t push it.
second of all, the topic of marge. nobody would ever make fun of a guy getting a letter from his girl because that’s the only source of joy they get inside the hell of a pow camp. but the way john seems almost annoyed by it, as if it is personally inconveniencing him is so noticeable. now one could argue it’s just because he doesn’t have a girl back home, but i don’t think he cares even a little bit about that. john has realized that his home is wherever gale is. which brings me to my third topic.
the scene where gale tells john he asked marg to marry him. the fact that he doesn’t even say those exact words, but rather “popped the question and she said yes”. god, the tension in that scene was goddamn near unbearable. john is entirely stoic which is concerning knowing that he is a man of emotion who feels things on an entirely different level than most men. something is turning within his brain and his way of congratulating gale was so robotic and almost calculated. i feel like a part of him kind of froze in that moment. i mean, he likely knew they would never get anywhere serious because hell this is the 1940s in the middle of a war but still. his buck is no longer his. and who does he have besides buck?
which brings me to one of my final points: john is realizing he doesn’t have anybody. that scene between them where he mentioned he never got letters because he didn’t set it up right, and was so concerned gale would only know this version of him and not his old self. i don’t think anything gale could’ve said would help, but it was nice that he tried at least… john’s whole world is gale, but gale has his world back in america. he has a home. he has something to return to and someone to love when he’s out of this mess. all john is going to return home to is his own loneliness and severe ptsd. john is a feeler and he feels things deeply and painfully, like a knife in the belly, especially when it comes to gale. the man he’s in love with has a woman to return to, and he might as well just be a legend that gale tells his kids about someday. but to john, gale is everything. he will never forget.
anyways this episode for them was VERY angsty and it’s late and i’m tired so this is kind of all over the place but i wanted to share my main thoughts. thank you for reading if you got this far i’ll probably continue my rant tomorrow depending on if this actually gets any traction LMAO i still don’t know how tumblr works.
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i was thinking about what late night talks with bucky would be like (call me crazy), and it got me thinking:
other than dying (though arguably some are not afraid of dying), what do you think some of the mota men’s greatest fears are? i could write a hundred essays on each of them, they all are so different!
Gosh, this is an incredible ask and it got me thinkin. Too hard, probably. And while I didn’t summarize thoughts for everyone I did think of them for Bucky.
So much so I wrote a little blurb on it. Sorry Nonnie if you’re not even into this universe, I totally get it but I found fic to be a more enlightening method for exploring this. I wanna hear those thoughts of yours! Send them, I beg!
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Greatest Fear
They got a bit existential as the weeks went on and their nights got more conscious. Ida and Bucky’s minds grew restless in the cold now that their bodies were healing. Huddled in their bunk they had debated baseball vs football endlessly, and argued regarding the accuracy of each other’s training anecdotes, the morality of mobsters and who was the better boxer: Braddock or Baer.
They’d ended up talking of the war, and both being sick of the dead end that the question of the future brought, they circled back around more concrete -if troublesome- thoughts. Most hairy landings, worst sounds either heard from their crew over the radio and what flashed across their minds when they had to finally press that abandon ship control.
And finally, Bucky ended up asking her what her worst fear was. And when Ida didn’t have it readily to hand -too used to suppressing any such thoughts even to her own self- he clarified: “Besides dying, I mean. If you’re even scared of that. Knowin’ you, maybe you aren’t.”
“I’d rather not.” she admitted.
“So? So what gets you scared?”
“This your way of fishing for another ghost story?” Ida teased.
“No. Just feels like sometimes you gotta remind yourself what it’s all about. Scared of dyin’ means you like livin’ enough to rather not stop. That sorta thing.”
“You’re saying love for one thing drives fear for another.” She summarized.
“Dunno. Just mullin’ it over.”
“I’d go through anything not to lose John.” she conceded, “Funny enough I’m positive he feels the same, so what a snarl.”
“I know he does.”
“Yeah.”
“If they put a gun to Buck’s head I’d tell ‘em Roosevelt's address and his favorite drink order, too.” Bucky expounded, tongue loosened by her tiny admission of frailty. “And he’d hate me for it.”
“All different kinds of loves out there.” Ida murmured consolingly, thinking hard on how her brother had been in a rage at her condition when he first saw her, and yet one of his first questions was whether she’d given anything up. Her Johnny knew she couldn’t live with herself if she had and he wouldn't've wanted her to. And nothing about that struck her as cold. Just as Bucky’s dangerous devotion to Gale didn’t strike her as weak. Just different.
“I saw a train.” Bucky began a thought but his voice died out with such finality Ida wondered if he’d ever pick the subject up again. But after a long moment he did, with some far away quality present in his voice that she’d never heard before, “On the way here. We were on one set of tracks and it was comin’ up the other.”
Ida had memories of trains, a lot of them. Going south all alone, first trip down to the uncle and aunts during the worst year of the depression. Old enough to know her own folks couldn’t support her, old enough to question how a ticket could be arranged but not supper. There had been trains that took her to training in Texas, then on to Iowa and Nebraska. Trains that took her deeper into Germany. One entire train car just for herself and too many German soldiers. Then the train that took them away from Ravensbruck. Ida felt an unsettled anticipation around trains that the peaceful rightness of flight had never caused her.
When Bucky mentioned trains and didn’t go on, Ida folded her hand into his huge one and squeezed it tightly. “What about those trains, John?”
“Heard ‘em before we saw ‘em.” he clarified, nodding his head conversationally as he was want to do, like he was gaining momentum towards a hard saying. Ida braced herself, squeezed just a little harder. “Not the engines, the screams. Car after car, and nothin’ but arms and faces reachin’ out. Screaming.”
Bucky’s bruised eyes were fixed, downcast gaze somewhere in the vicinity of her throat, but Ida knew he was seeing something far away. “I think I saw where they take them.” she muttered before she even had time to weigh her contribution to this horrid tale.
His eyes focused again and he looked at her with silent inquiry. “They took us to a labor camp first. Before here. Apparently one of the nicer ones, they had intentions of treating us as civilians.” Ida had been preoccupied with her aching body and her sharp terror of failure while at Ravensbruck, but not so much as to not notice the haunting vestiges of humanity answering roll beside her. “I felt like I was in Hades, the cold hell. Where the living damned can peruse each special misery waiting for them when they die. Called it a labor camp but I don’t know how skeletons like that could produce anything. Last bits of human resilience used to put together some industry to keep their oppressors fed, equipped. What an end.”
“Scares me shitless.” Bucky replied vehemently, and Ida realized they’d gotten full circle in their talk, that he’d dragged more out of her than she ever intended. Somehow neither his statement of fear nor her own felt weak in the moment. “That folks could get so hard they could do that to each other -I don’t know what to do with that, Ida. How’s it get to that point. Why’ve you got Fritz and then you’ve got…that? Same country, same sauerkraut, same uniforms. Scares me shitless.”
MOTA taglist, I only have one so ignore if this is not the universe you signed up for:
@stylespresleyhearted
@ab4eva
@earth-to-lottie
@suraemoon
@blurredcolour
@steph-speaks
@crazymadpassionatelove
@rubyfruitjungle
@taestrwbrry
@storysimp
@javden
@sexualparkour
@jointherebellion215
@sunny747
@ask-you-what-sir
@xxanaduwrites
@pretty4u
@yorkshirekiwi
@waitedforlove743
@elvismylove04
@blikebarbie92
@luminouslywriting
@euryno-j47
@justheretoreadthhx
@bookotter01
@mads-weasley
@ka-ski
@darkestbeforethedawn16
@slowsweetlove
@richardslady121
@barbeygirl
@prfctplcsreads
@vaf24
@harrys-housewife
@claireelizabeth85
@pearlparty
@piastrinho
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lokidokieokie · 1 year
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Healing Hearts
Summary: your typical enemies to lovers plot, except it’s only one-sided… and Y/n's Bucky's physical therapist/nurse.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Nurse!Reader
Warning(s): brooding Bucky, mentions of physical therapy, other than that nothing else I can think of...
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Bucky Barnes had always been a solitary man. He preferred to keep to himself and avoid unnecessary interactions with others. So when he woke up in a hospital room, with a perky nurse named Y/n assigned to him, he knew that he was in for a long and frustrating recovery.
From the moment Y/n walked into his room, she was like a ray of sunshine. She was constantly talking, asking him how he was feeling, and offering him unsolicited advice on how to speed up his recovery. Bucky found her incessant chatter annoying and intrusive, and he made it clear that he wanted her to leave him alone.
"You don't have to talk so much, you know," Bucky grumbled as Y/n tried to engage him in conversation.
She smiled brightly. "I'm just trying to keep you company, Mr. Barnes. I know it can be lonely in here."
Bucky rolled his eyes. "I don't need company. I need to heal and get out of this hellhole."
Her smile faltered, and she looked hurt. But Bucky couldn't bring himself to care. He had more important things to worry about than hurting the feelings of a chatty nurse.
As the days went on, Bucky found himself becoming more and more irritated with Y/n. She was always there, hovering over him, and he couldn't escape her constant attention. He started to resent her presence, even though he knew that she was just doing her job.
One day, as she was helping him with his physical therapy exercises, she accidentally brushed against his metal arm. Bucky winced, and she immediately pulled back.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Barnes. Did that hurt?" she asked, her voice full of concern.
Bucky gritted his teeth. "Yeah, it hurt. What did you expect, with that clumsy move?"
Y/n looked at him with hurt in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm just trying to help you get better."
Bucky glared at her. "You're not helping. You're just getting in the way."
She sighed. "I know you don't like me very much, Mr. Barnes. But I'm just trying to do my job. I want to make sure you're getting the best possible care."
Bucky scoffed. "Yeah, right. You just want to make yourself feel better. You think that if you can fix me, you'll be some kind of hero."
Y/n looked hurt and shocked by his words. "That's not true, Mr. Barnes. I don't help people to make people think I'm the hero; that I'm some sort of saviour for humanity. All I want to do is help people, that's all."
Bucky shook his head. "Save it for someone who cares. I never needed or wanted your help."
As the days went on, Bucky's attitude towards Y/n didn't improve. But despite his constant complaints and snarky remarks, she never gave up on him. She was always there, by his side, offering him words of encouragement and support.
One day, as she was helping him with his physical therapy, Bucky felt a twinge of pain in his leg. He winced, and she immediately stopped what she was doing.
"Are you okay, Mr. Barnes?" she asked, her voice full of concern.
Bucky looked up at her, and for the first time, he saw her in a different light. He saw the kindness in her eyes, the determination in her voice, and the genuine care in her actions. He realised that he had been wrong about her all along. She wasn't annoying, she was kind and caring.
Bucky felt a strange feeling in his chest as he looked at her. He couldn't believe that he had been so blind to her kindness before. She had been nothing but patient and supportive towards him, even when he had been rude and ungrateful.
"I'm fine," he muttered, feeling embarrassed by his outburst. "Sorry for snapping at you."
She smiled warmly at him. "It's okay, Mr. Barnes. I understand that you're in pain, and it can be frustrating."
Bucky nodded, feeling grateful for her understanding. "I guess I've just been a bit of a jerk to you, haven't I?"
She shrugged. "It's okay. I know that you didn't mean it."
Bucky sighed, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. "Thanks for being patient with me, Y/n. I really appreciate it."
Y/n grinned at him. "Of course, Mr. Barnes. That's what I'm here for."
From that day on, Bucky's attitude towards her began to change. He found himself looking forward to her visits, and he even started to engage in conversations with her. They talked about everything from the latest movies to popular music trends, and Bucky found himself enjoying her company more and more.
One day, as she was helping him with his physical therapy, Bucky realised that he didn't want her to leave. He wanted her to stay with him, to keep talking to him, to keep being there for him.
"Y/n," he said suddenly, as she was packing up her supplies. "Do you want to grab a coffee or something after your shift ends?"
She looked surprised, but she smiled. "Sure, Mr. Barnes. I'd love that."
"Call me Bucky, doll."
Bucky grinned, feeling a strange warmth in his chest. He couldn't believe that he was actually looking forward to spending time with the woman he had once despised. But as he looked at her, he realised that she was more than just a nurse to him. She was a friend, a confidante, and maybe even something more.
As they walked out of the hospital together, Bucky felt a strange feeling of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he had finally found someone who could help him heal his damaged heart.
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A/N who doesn't love the enemies to lovers trope? It's personally a favourite of mine 🥰
tagging the usual...please lemme know if you'd like to be added or removed.
🏷 @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley @moonlight-ee 
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softspeirs · 3 months
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hello! could i please request "remembering things they told them" for mota - dealer's choice on characters and/or ocs?💕 — @shoshiwrites
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A/N: @shoshiwrites My gut said more John Egan so here we are. This follows this loosely but you don't need to have read it first.
two. dark skies (i remember)
Three cups of coffee the next morning is barely enough to get her out of bed and moving, but she's back in the pub bright and early. They don't do breakfast, but they open at noon, and she promised herself she'd try to put the day before out of her mind.
She's wiping down the bar when she hears the door open. "We're closed--" She stops when she sees Major Egan. He's twisting the brim of his hat in his hands and looking anywhere but at her. "Morning, Major." She says. "Unfortunately we're still closed... no matter how many of those shiny pins you have on your lapel."
His smile is small. "I just wanted to--" He sighs, looking skyward like he's trying to find the right words. "Look, I'm sorry I was an asshole last night."
He doesn't apologize for his language or look at her like she's going to be offended, which she appreciates.
She still doesn't like the look in his eyes. It's... blank. A bit of remorse there, but something else, too. Something dark and closed off, and she hates that she can tell. That she's spent enough time trying to guess what he's thinking that she can tell his moods apart.
"It's alright, Major."
"No it isn't." He's firm, but not unkind. From behind his back, he pulls out a small, small bouquet of flowers.
She doesn't think she's ever seen Major Egan look anything than confident, cocky, and sure of himself. But this look? She wishes she had a camera.
"I remember you said you like daisies," he says quietly, holding it out towards her, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck.
She's taken aback - the idea that he remembers anything she's said when they've been surrounded by everyone else is crazy to her. "That's-- no offense Major, but I thought you were three sheets to the wind when this conversation was going on."
A group of rowdy aviators, each one of them bragging about the nicest thing they ever did for a girl, and then the competition to see who could outdo the other... it ended with her chiming in from the bar that all she needed was a picnic and some daisies and she'd be happy, just like most other girls her age. No grand gestures necessary.
This feels like a grand gesture, sort of. Her heart rate kicks up when she takes the flowers from him, their fingertips brushing.
"Did you pick these from some unsuspecting housewife's garden?" She asks, narrowing her eyes.
His eyes light up with amused indignation. "Did I--" His voice is half laugh. "I'll have you know I gave some of my hard earned coin to Mrs. Henderson down the road for these."
"You didn't have to do that."
He shrugs. "I know-- I know you were just looking out for me when I came by here last night. You didn't deserve my... bad attitude."
She doesn't know what to say. She has no idea what he's going through. She has her own heartbreak every time she opens the door for business and sees fewer and fewer airmen walking through the door. But these men, his friends? How is he possibly handling that?
"You, uh... you let us in here night after night and have never kicked us out even when we deserved it. And I... I don't know." He shrugs. "Buck went down yesterday. And I'm angry as hell and all I wanted was to drown it."
She looks down. "I'm sorry I turned you away."
His eyes are clear when he meets her gaze. "Don't be. You were right." He rolls his eyes at himself. "But don't go tellin' anyone I said that."
"You're flying today." It's not a question.
"I have to--" He shakes his head. "It's my job." He straightens, drawing himself back to his full height. "Anyway. I just wanted to..." he trails off, gesturing to the flowers still in her hand. "I should go."
He turns, and she remembers him like that the night before, telling her she shouldn't get attached to any of them. She remembers, but suddenly she doesn't care.
It's too late anyway.
"Bucky." She says his nickname for the first time, and he turns faster than she expected, his eyes widening with-- hope? Surprise? "Take this. For luck."
She hands him a single daisy. Takes a deep breath, raises herself up on her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek.
It all happens in a second. A heartbeat.
And it's that second, that heartbeat that she plays over and over again in her mind later that night when Captain Rosenthal's plane comes back alone.
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Bucky: I think I'm in love with Buck.
Curt: I'm sorry.
Bucky: I said i-
Curt: No i heard you the first time, i'm just sorry.
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itneverendshere · 4 months
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runaway - bucky barnes au! (one shot! series)
warnings: angst!!!!!; little backstory and a little surprise??
parti i and ii: out of time; as it was
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I remember the day it happened as if it were yesterday, the years not having drifted by and drained every emotion from my heart.
How foolish of me to think I ever stood a chance against the most powerful woman in the Kingdom. To go against the Queen meant meeting your doom. My love for her son, for Bucky, had blindsided me. It made me believe that she would understand, maybe not at first, but surely, if she saw how happy we were, she would do her best to respect her son’s wishes.
I was wrong.
Royalty loves their power and their choices more than they could ever love someone else. There’s no space for understanding, for caring. Everyone is a pawn in their game, and if you become a threat, you’ll be dealt with.
The day it happened, Bucky and I stole moments together in hidden corners, weaving dreams of a future where love conquered all. Little did we know that our happiness hung by the thinnest thread, a thread that would soon be violently severed.
It was during a lavish royal banquet that the Queen's displeasure was unveiled. The grand hall echoed with laughter and music; the air filled with the aroma of delicacies. Bucky and I exchanged stolen glances across the room, oblivious to the storm that was brewing. 
How did I not see it?
As the night wore on, the Queen's icy gaze found its way to me. Her piercing eyes bore into my soul, stripping away the illusion of safety I had built.
She knew.
My heart sank as I realized I was no longer a dirty secret kept between the walls of the castle.
“Tell me, girl,” her voice haunts me to this day, even after her passing, “How long have you known?”
My eyes darted quickly in her direction, seeking to escape whatever punishment I knew she was about to bestow on me. “I’m—My sincerest apologies, my queen, I don’t know—”
“Surely, you’ve realized you’re with child?”
Her words hung in the air like a heavy fog, thick with a mix of shock and terror. The revelation struck me like a thunderbolt, leaving me momentarily paralyzed. My hand instinctively moved to my stomach, as if to shield the secret growing within me. The truth was laid bare, and the Queen's sharp eyes seemed to pierce through the layers of my being.
“I understand your education is…appalling. But surely, you’ve noticed your lack of monthly bleedings.”
I stammered, trying to find the right words that could soften the blow of this revelation, “I don’t understand—”
With a deliberate step, the Queen descended from the elevated platform and approached me, her royal gown trailing behind her like a river of silk. The weight of her disapproval bore down on me.
"Your naivety is astonishing," she hissed, her voice a low, venomous whisper. "You will deny that child belongs to my son as well?”
I could feel tears welling up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. The Queen circled around me like a predator closing in on its prey.
I summoned whatever courage I could muster, standing tall despite the storm of emotions raging within me. "Your Majesty, my love is genuine. I never intended to disgrace the kingdom or your family. Bucky and I—we simply wanted to be together."
The Queen's cold laughter filled the hall, sending shivers down my spine. "Love?! You dare speak of love? You believe you’re special.”
“I don’t—”
“But you do! Look at yourself, girl, you dare to think my son would ever love a commoner such as yourself? You can barely write your name, let alone rule a Kingdom.”
The Queen's words were like a harsh wind that threatened to extinguish the flickering flame of hope within me. I felt the weight of her scrutiny, a heavy burden that threatened to crush me under its enormity.
“Any man is easily fooled by a pretty face and a pair of legs. James, as smart as he is, is still a man at the end of the day, is he not?”
I felt the hot sting behind my eyes, my breath caught in my chest. My shoulders trembled slightly, a subtle sign of the emotional turmoil within. Determination etched across my face, I fought valiantly to hold back the tears threatening to spill. My jaw tightened, and I blinked rapidly as if trying to push the emotions away. “Your son is a good man.”
“Yes, but he is only just a man. Not very smart creatures, are they? So easily played, so gullible, yet so… treacherous. You cannot possibly think you were the only girl in his bed.”
I knew his heart better than anyone; Bucky would have never hurt me. If there was one simple thing I was certain of, it was him.
"Your Majesty, please," I implored, desperation seeping into my voice. "If it's punishment you seek, punish me. Banish me from the kingdom, but spare the child.”
A cold smile played on the Queen's lips as she continued her circling, the predatory dance of a predator toying with its prey.
 "Innocence is a rare commodity in the realm of politics. You, my dear, chose to dance with wolves, and now you must face the consequences."
My mind raced, desperately searching for a way to salvage the remnants of my shattered world. “I beg of you, please don’t do this!”
She halted in front of me, her gaze piercing through my defenses. "You will leave this kingdom at sunrise, never to return. Your presence will be erased from our history, and my son will be free to fulfill his destiny without the shackles of your deceit."
Leave? I’d barely left the castle, let alone the kingdom; it was all I ever knew. There was nothing for me outside these walls, no one to guide me or to come to my rescue.
“I have nowhere to go."
“And that is your doing. Your kind is not meant to challenge the order we've established. You’re a stain, a stain I will erase for the sake of the kingdom. If your child meets its death, it will be a deserving ending, better than what I would allow."
A profound sense of isolation engulfed me. The weight of impending exile pressed upon my chest, making it hard to breathe. “Bucky won’t allow this.”
“James will abide by his duty to the kingdom. He’ll have someone warming his chambers by tomorrow night.”
A surge of disbelief and betrayal coursed through me. The Queen's words cut deeper than any blade, and I struggled to comprehend the enormity of the situation. The love we had shared, the dreams we had woven together – all seemed to crumble into dust before my eyes.
"You underestimate the bond between a mother and her son," she continued, her voice dripping with malice. "He will move on, just as the kingdom will, once you are but a distant memory."
The reality of my impending exile and the Queen's ruthless intentions gripped my heart with a vice-like force. “He loves me.”
“He might, but he will certainly not once he learns you gave him up for a better life.”
“You would lie to him?”
A realization struck me like a lightning bolt – my love for Bucky had become a pawn in the Queen's game of power and control. She wielded it like a weapon, ready to sacrifice it for the sake of the kingdom's stability. 
My fight wasn't just against her disapproval; it was against the very foundations of a society that deemed love a threat.
“I’d be doing him a favor. He’s currently out on a mission? By the time he comes back, you’ll be long gone.”
Her cruel indifference stung like a thousand needles. I stood there, my world unraveling, as the reality of her manipulation settled in. 
A numbness crept over me, replacing the desperate fight with a resigned acceptance of my fate.
"Your Majesty," I spoke, my voice barely above a whisper, "I will leave at sunrise, as you command. But please, spare him the lie. Tell Bucky the truth about why I must go."
The Queen's cold gaze bore into mine, and for a moment, I glimpsed a flicker of satisfaction in her eyes. "You underestimate the power of a well-crafted narrative, my dear. Sometimes, a lie is more potent than the truth. It protects not just the kingdom but also the fragile hearts of those who must bear its burdens."
The truth, it seemed, was a luxury not meant for the likes of me.
She took everything from me that night. And although surviving in the cold, harsh world lying outside those walls almost killed me, it allowed me to protect the most important thing in my life.
My beautiful Becca.
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gayspacedrawings · 1 year
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Happy birthday kid
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