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#theme: angst with a happy ending
themaxieltop333 · 2 months
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#1: Can we talk in the morning?
By: 33max
“You can not just be here,” Max said, his face schooled into an unusually neutral expression. Daniel still hears the with me that goes unsaid. You can not just be here with me. Or, Daniel runs away to LA and Max chases after him
[1-5k words, Teen and Up, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, Friends with Benefits, Internalized Homophobia]
This fic is archive locked and can only be read by AO3 users.
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sky-neverending · 3 months
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@steddiemas Day 16: Angst Themed Sentence Starters
Just leave already. You obviously don’t want to be here.
Tags: Established Relationship, Ficlet, Angst, Angst with a happy ending, Steve Harrington needs a hug, Good Boyfriend Eddie Munson
WC: 655 | Rating: Teen
“Just leave already. You obviously don’t want to be here.”
Those are the last words Steve said to Eddie on Christmas Eve. Two sentences, two small sentences that hurt more than any injury either of them had endured over their lives.
“Fine,” Eddie had grumbled, grabbing his bag from the living room couch. “If that’s what you want, I'll go.” And then he had left, slamming the front door behind him at exactly 6:35 P.M.
The argument that led up to him leaving was beyond stupid. It was silly, the way that one meaningless comment had caught in Steve’s already panic riddled mind.
“This is my first Christmas Eve in forever without Wayne,” he said as the two snuggled up on the couch. “After I moved in, he always promised to be home before midnight. I think he wanted me to know he was there, no matter what.” His voice was soft, distant.
It made Steve tense. “You don’t have to be here.”
Eddie had twisted his neck to look at him. “What?”
“You don’t have to be here,” Steve repeated. “It obviously means a lot to you to spend it with him, so you can go home if you want.”
“Why would I want that?” Eddie sat up. “I said I was spending it with you, Stevie.”
“Yeah well,” Steve paused. There was a tension growing in the air, and out of pure panic that Eddie didn’t want to be there, he kept pushing. “It’s not like I'm used to having anyone here on holidays anyway. So go hang out with Wayne.”
Eddie was standing now, fidgeting with his hands. “I don’t want to go hang out with Wanye! I want to be here with you!”
“You obviously don’t,” Steve muttered under his breath, standing as well.
“What?” Eddie asked. He sounded like all the air in his lungs had been knocked out of him. “Steve, why would you think-”
And Steve lost it. He didn’t want to look up at Eddie, didn’t want to see the face of someone he was about to push away because of his own childish worries. “Just leave already. You obviously don’t want to be here.”
Silence filled the space around them. “Fine,” Eddie muttered, and then he was gone.
As soon as the engine of Eddie’s van roared to life, Steve broke. He fell back down onto the couch, hands in his hair as sobs ripped through his chest. He had just driven one of the most important people in his life away. All because he couldn’t accept that maybe, just maybe, someone wanted to be with him for once.
He thought back to his parents. To the empty halls on Christmas, to the dark windows of the Harrington house, the only one on the street without a tree. His parents were never there to get one, to take care of one. Never there to take care of him either. Never there. Why would anyone else want to be there? Obviously he was worthless, unlovable, pathetic. No one would or should ever care about him. It was impossible.
The front door clattered back open, and Steve jumped. The collar of his sweater was soaked with tears.
“Steve,” said Eddie sadly. “Steve, fuck. I’m not going anywhere.”
Steve’s response came out through broken cries. “Go away.”
“No.” Eddie walked toward him and wrapped him in his arms. “I love you, Steve Harrington. And just because you think you aren’t worthy of love, doesn’t change the fact that I do.”
Steve said nothing. He just sobbed, sobbed into Eddie’s vest as the other man ran fingers through his hair. After a little while, he finally spoke up.
“I’ve ruined everything,” he mumbled. “I’ve made it all a mess.”
“Nah,” was Eddie’s response. “I think it’s perfect just the way it is. You wanna know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I have you. And I'm not planning on going anywhere.”
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chairkind · 10 months
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you find an old photo in the car. it's surprisingly undamaged by the cold lake water.
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steddieunderdogfics · 2 months
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Theme Weekend Rec - The Marriage of Bigfoot and Mothman by hairstevington. It's an alternate canon, season rewrite.
The Marriage of Bigfoot and Mothman by hairstevington
@hairstevington
Rating: Not Rated
6,257 words, 1/1 chapters
Archive Warning: Chose Not to Use
Tags: Alternate Canon, Canon Related, Canon Rewrite, Canon Universe, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Camp, Jason Carver Being an Asshole, Marriage, Bat Eddie Munson, Song: The Marriage of Bigfoot and Mothman, Happy Ending, Angst and Humor, BAMF Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Five Years Later, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson in Love, Soulmates
Summary:
Four years after the final battle with Vecna, Steve is still distraught over losing Eddie. When the two reunite, Steve decides to waste no time in running away with him - even though Eddie has wings, now. Meanwhile, Deputy Jason Carver and his partner Andy try to track them down. Unlucky for them, the cops don't know what they're up against.
Thanks for the rec!
This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is fix it fics and season rewrites.
Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!
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mosaickiwi · 4 days
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Fall Unto Me (part two)
Got too silly. Have some more Angel!Angel and Demon!Ren cause the bot came back and wormed into my brain to post it. Part one here if you haven't read it yet hehe.
cw// religious themes
14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI
The quiet cabin where Ren lived was a stone’s throw from the flowering field you found them in. The devil graciously opened his home, even guiding you around the town you now knew was called Corland Bay. Each morning when you wondered about leaving, he brought something new to pique your interest and put off your departure. The time seemed to fly by and soon you hardly spared a thought to leave.
You'd quickly grown accustomed to his constant presence over the past month. He was never far from your shoulder at any waking moment. The uneasy feeling from when you met was completely gone, replaced with a strange sense of comfort. He had only shown kindness to you, after all. To call a devil your friend was laughable, you knew. But no other word quite fit.
Still, you wondered how he had come to live outside their realm. Every time you questioned him the conversation slipped away to another topic. It must've been odd to discuss with an angel, you naturally assumed.
So you stopped bringing it up after a few days, instead choosing to inquire about the changes in the plants you so often admired. Some had begun to wither, and new buds sprouted up seemingly overnight in their place. A strange new array of flowers that Ren promised would tower over your head and his in due time.
“I think I'll like these flowers more than the others,” you told him one late afternoon. 
You were lying on the porch, your head resting against his thigh as you watched the endless rows of flora sway in the breeze. Their focus was on you, though you didn’t notice. You could feel the faint trace of constellations drawn along the bare skin of your legs. The human clothes he’d gotten for you were a little different from the robes and tunics donned by servants of heaven, but they were just as comfortable despite the lacking fabric.
“I couldn't begin to imagine why,” he mused, his tone teasing as if he already knew your answer.
You explained regardless. “You told me some will grow as tall as they can, even following the sun’s light. It’s rather interesting.”
“I’m already as tall as they'll be.” His tail flicked into your field of view, casting only a slight shadow until his face obscured your vision further. "Is a devil not as interesting as a flower to you?"
The rapidly changing sky above caught your attention before you could respond in kind. Clouds blotted out the sun, tinting the world below in a murky gray. All the signs were there. Heavy clouds, a drop in temperature, and a strange smell in the air—petrichor, it was called in the books Ren had read with you by candle light on quiet evenings. It was a change you'd been waiting for ever since learning about it.
Bursting with excitement, you rolled from their lap and darted from the safety of the covered porch, the answer you meant to give them already long forgotten. Ren followed on your heels in the dirt until you stopped.
“It's rain, isn't it?” you wondered aloud and turned back to them for confirmation.
“Humans normally stay inside when it happens, my angel. But yes. Rain.” He nodded with a smile, enamored by the way your eyes curiously sparkled before you looked away. His pale hands came up to shield your face when the first drops began to fall. 
Tiny thumps of something suddenly bounced off your hair and shoulders, seeping into your clothes. His makeshift shield seemed to be doing its job as you looked all around with wide eyes. Minuscule puddles of water and earth formed around your feet. The sea of flowers still swayed before you, though a few weaker ones fell out of sync as the rain pushed them to and fro as it pleased. You could even hear something akin to chimes when drops pattered over the roof of their home.
You spared a glance up towards the sky, quickly changing your mind with an unwelcome gasp at the spray that tickled your face. Quiet laughter came from behind and you turned to look at your companion once more, shaking off their hands.
Ren appeared unbothered by the dozens of small droplets beading down his forehead to his chin, until you reached forward to wipe them from his face. The heat of his skin stood out to you, and you let your hand linger, rubbing your thumb back and forth over the drops that kept landing on his cheek. 
A dull ache began in your back. 
You took an innocent step towards him. The light shower of rain was slowly chilling you to the bone, so it only made sense that you sought out their warmth. A warmth that felt as familiar and welcoming as your heaven. Gentle hands wound their way around your waist, guiding you back to the shelter of the porch only a few feet away. With the curtain of his fingers gone you expected another torrent to stream down your face for a brief moment. Instead, all you felt were stray drops falling from his hair.
Relief washed over you almost immediately in their embrace. Every so often you’d feel homesick like this. That sharp, almost stinging lance of pain where your wings were hidden away—yet it always faded as soon as he comforted you. You couldn’t understand why their presence brought such solace to you. 
“I’m ready to go inside,” you suddenly said.
Your gaze wandered up to Ren's unreadable blue eyes as he answered, “Are you?”
“Yes… I think so.” But you made no move to leave, instead letting your eyes follow the slow crawl of a droplet down from his cheek to the corner of his lips. Their pale pink color reminded you of the sunset that left you empty only days ago.
It was a dreaded feeling you couldn't bear to feel again.
Without even thinking about it you leaned up to kiss them for the very first time. A faint stutter of surprise to his breath, and then he kissed you back. Part of you expected it to burn, to sting, do something when you mistakenly sought out affections you knew were meant only for a bonded pair—especially from a devil of all creations. Yet there was nothing to punish you for now.
The fluttery haze to your body didn’t wane at all, only blossoming at their touch. Until a gentle nip of fangs at your bottom lip had an entirely new feeling thrumming to life in your heart. You pulled back just to breathe for a minute, running your tongue over the spot that stung in a way you belatedly realized you liked for some reason. 
Guilt and confusion battled in your heart at the thought. “Heaven will need me home soon,” you whispered, avoiding their watchful gaze for a long while as you toyed with the still damp strands of his hair.
The devil waited in silence, running one hand in an unknown pattern on your back until you managed to look upwards. “...Do you truly wish to return, my love? Won't you at least stay until the flowers bloom?” The words were desperate, but his voice resigned. As if your answer was already set in stone.
You carefully nodded at his words. Truthfully, you weren’t sure if you were even capable of leaving. It scared you more than your god's surefire chastising about the sin you'd just committed. But it has to be then, you wanted to convince yourself. Or you feared you’d break your vows and never leave him.
He accepted with a heart wrenching smile, took your hand and led you up the few steps that were slick with rain. Your fingers tightened achingly around theirs as he opened the cabin’s door.
Beneath the steady drumming of rain, you didn’t notice a bell had been faintly tolling from somewhere far above you.
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burningarchitecture · 8 months
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volcanicsleep · 10 months
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we watched all* turtle media! here's our ranking list!
*we would watch shows from the beginning until we lost interest, then we'd jump ahead in the series and repeat until we had a good overall impression of the show (we mostly cared about characterization and relationship dynamics).
the rankings are not indicative of objective or subjective quality. it's just based on how much we enjoyed them
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the rise movie
rottmnt
tmnt (1990) + tmnt II: secret of the ooze [watch together. its a complete experience]
TMNT (2007)
tmnt (1987)
turtles forever
tmnt (2003)
tmnt batman movie
first bay movie
tmnt flash forward
tmnt III [nigh unwatchable]
tmnt (2012) [had to drop it after 4th episode for mental health safety]
honorable mention: turtle odyssey
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edb954 · 2 days
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Relationship Aesthetics:
Emme + Coriolanus~
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Emme + Ash~
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The LoveTriangle~
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heyitsme1040 · 1 month
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Body and Soul [b.b]
summary : Your job with the team is to go over files that are collected when the team clears out Hydra bases. You are the only person with authorization to go through the files containing any details to do with the former Winter Soldier, your best friend Bucky. Going about your job as usual, you’re reading through the stack of files the team retrieved from the most recent Hydra base that discuss Bucky. Reading the graphic details of a punishment that happened before a mission, that would go similarly had your heart breaking for the strong man you’ve grown close to. Needing to walk away, you sit outside and look out over the city. Bucky joins you outside, where you admit what you read. Opening up to you, Bucky discusses how that was the first time that particular punishment happened, and how it’s the main reason he doesn’t like touch. During an impassioned speech to reassure him, you admit just how deep your feelings for him go. His next actions reveal just how much he reciprocates your feelings, and the two of you set up your first date. 
pairings : Bucky Barnes x Reader
warnings : 18+ only. Triggering topics will be found in this work below the text break. Mentions and recounts of rape. Physical assault. Haphephobia (fear of touch). General angst. Comfort. Confessions. Getting together. Happy ending. Female pronouns used. Dialogue heavy. 
word count : 7,970
AO3 (x)
a/n : This idea stemmed from a friend and I talking about Bucky, and wondering just what horrors he went through that wouldn’t normally be talked about. And then this idea that he was sent out on missions where he was essentially pimped out. It spiraled from there, and I wanted to write this since the back and forth I had with a friend. 
Again, this content will be very triggering for some readers. It gets very dark. Your mental health is more important than reading this fanfiction. Please take care of yourself, and if that means not reading this then don’t read it. 
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You stretched in your office chair, stiff but determined to get through as many files today as possible. Looking at the stacks of files, you reached for the nearest one. Opening the top folder, you read over an inventoried list of supplies. The next folder was dated a few months later than the prior folder, but was another inventory list. Comparing the two, you could see a significant increase in storage of supplies. Logging into the secured server, you scanned in the two folders. You were able to calculate just how large an increase it was, as well as how many agents it could sustain. You worked your way through the stack, adding each assessed file to the trend. The hours slipped by as you meticulously compared each folder, calculating how many agents there could have been there. Coming to the last file, it was dated just two months before the team cleared it out. From the amount of supplies the base kept inventoried, you were able to estimate there had been just under two hundred agents there before the paper trail ended. You saved your findings, and sent it off to Fury to review. If the base had that many people, where did they all go? It was deserted just last week when the team cleared it out. You hoped by trying to figure out how many agents used to be there, Fury and the team could eventually figure out just how many Hydra agents there were still. And even better, where they all went. 
Grabbing the next stack of folders you began reading. It was mission logs, detailing everything. From the first mention of the assignment, the planning, all the way up to the mission report. You went to a separate part of the secured server, and began getting the documents scanned in. As they slowly uploaded, you began the process of reading the writing. Some of it was so faded they took even longer to transcribe into the system. The large stack filled the entirety of your evening, leading into the late hours of the night. You had to make sure every detail was typed into the system, comparing it to the actual file. You yawned as you saved your work, rubbing your eyes before looking at the clock. Realizing it’s nearly midnight already, you look at the file stacks around you. You see a very short stack, maybe five files high. You grab them, deciding you can finish this stack before heading to your room to sleep. 
As soon as you open the folder, you’re met with the grainy image of Bucky. You tilt your head, skimming over the initial information. Your eyes catch on the year 1952, giving you a start to the timeline events you’re about to read. You sign into the locked folder on the server that contains all the information on Bucky’s time under Hydra’s control. You add a new folder for the base, trying to mentally prepare for what you may learn. You input the date, noting down the initial information on Bucky since his last cryostasis log at the time. Turning to the next page, your stomach plummets and your heart beats a little faster. 
Winter Soldier correctional log, you read. Failure to perform at required success expectations during training. Following this failure, ordered to not resist punishment. The Winter Soldier did not react to the hit that followed the command, ensuring he would be receptive to the punishment. Ordered three officers to punish the Winter Soldier as preparation for his upcoming mission. Observed as officers forced the Winter Soldier against the ground. Pinned against the ground, the Winter Soldier did not react. He was stripped as the officers removed their own clothing. The Soldier’s body thrashed but remained secured against the ground as the officers penetrated into him. As the initial officer punished the Winter Soldier the other two spoke of what they were going to do to him. Once the first officer found his involvement to be sufficient he disengaged from the Winter Soldier, promptly replaced by the second officer. The second officer was eager to punish the Soldier. During this officer’s treatment of him, the Winter Soldier became unconscious. Upon discovering this, the third officer began to beat him while the second remained steady in his aggressive treatment of the Soldier’s body. Eventually, the third officer joined the second officer in their punishment of the Winter Soldier. The simultaneous punishment caused the Soldier to jerk, once again becoming conscious. When the two officers finished with their punishment of the Winter Soldier, he was left on the ground. The Soldier’s body shook, still not resisting as I began to punish him myself. He was still perceptive of the punishment, doing nothing to resist my use of his body. Following my own punishment, the Winter Soldier’s body was severely bloodied and shaking. He was left there for his expedited healing to allow him to recover before tomorrow’s mission. 
As you read over Pierce’s signature, you realized you were gasping between hiccuped sobs. You wiped your cheeks once again, shaking your head. You signed out of the secure server on your computer and locked the stack of files in your desk. As you exited your office, you made sure the door was locked as well before taking the elevator up to your floor. You kept wiping the freshly falling tears from your cheeks, keeping your hands balled into fists to control their shaking. As the elevator opened, you covered your mouth with a trembling hand, hoping to keep your cries silent. Swiftly, you walked down the hall toward your room. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at the door across from yours, glad Bucky’s room didn’t have any light spilling from under the door. Entering your room, you toed off your shoes before changing into a pair of leggings and one of the hoodies you had stolen from Bucky. Having the fabric swallow your frame, quickly followed by the smell of Bucky enveloping you as well, gave you the ability to calm down slightly. 
Your socked feet were silent as you entered the hallway once again, padding your way across the smooth surface into the common room. You looked between the couch and the balcony. If you stayed in the common room, you risked Bucky or Steve hearing you cry and coming to check on you. Moving toward the balcony, you think about what you read. The sting of tears quickly returns, and you close the door behind you. Overlooking the city, you let the tears fall freely. Not bothering to wipe away the wet tracks they leave, nor worrying about muffling your cries, you let all your emotions wash over you while staring out over the city. 
You sat on the ground, legs stretched out in front of you while leaning against the couch that was on the balcony. You thought of Bucky, of all the things he’s been through that he didn’t deserve. How for so long he never had a choice in what his body did, constantly forgetting his memories just as they’d begin to resurface. Being forced to take so many lives, and now holding onto that guilt. The times he was put into cryostasis by Hydra, sometimes for months and other times for years. He had so many years taken away from him. The brutal training he’d been put through, along with so many punishments for the smallest mistakes. His body was littered in scars, some you’d learned came from missions while others were from the torture Hydra made him endure. He had been a prisoner within his own mind for so long. 
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When he was initially deprogrammed of Hydra’s brainwashing, you’d seen how lost he looked. Finally able to make his own choices again. He stayed out of the way for so long, just watching this world that was new to him. You remember when you first spoke to him, introducing yourself while holding your hand out, only for him to nod slightly and murmur his name in response. As the two of you became closer, you saw the way he always made sure to avoid being touched. That he stayed a few feet away from the team, only willing to train with Steve. 
Sam had accidentally bumped him in a hallway one day as you were heading down it, and you watched as Bucky swiftly slammed him into a wall with his arm pulled back ready to punch whoever it had been. His body was tense, but you watched how his body slumped slightly as he stepped away from Sam, pressing himself against the other wall of the hallway. Just as you walked past the two, you overheard Bucky’s repeated apologies followed by Sam reassuring him that it was okay. You were in front of Bucky’s side of the hallway when you passed, and you noticed how he pressed himself further into the wall. Whenever you were nearby Bucky always made sure that there was plenty of room between you both. 
It wasn’t until a few months of you slowly becoming friends with Bucky when he first nudged you. The two of you were sitting on the couch, almost a foot between the two of you. You were reading a book while he scrolled through movies on the TV. Suddenly you felt a warmth near you before his elbow gently pressed against your ribs, disappearing as unexpectedly as it’d appeared. You looked up, making eye contact with him. He gave you a small smile, gesturing to the TV to ask you a question about the movie he’d discovered. He was leaning now, the elbow he’d used to nudge you now supporting him in the gap that had closed between the two of you. You happily answered all his questions while still thinking about the fact that he just touched you. It wasn’t a secret that Bucky had been treated horribly by Hydra, so everyone understood that he never liked to be touched. But as much as he avoided being touched, he also rarely initiated a touch. 
There were a few occasions, following the first time he nudged you in the ribs, that Bucky had initiated any sort of physical contact outside of training. You’d first seen some of them while training. The times he or Steve would be sprawled on their back against the training mats as the other loomed over, they would offer a hand up. Bucky never hesitated to grab Steve’s hand, the silent choice an easy one to make. When Bucky offered Steve a hand up, it was always his right hand. Easily pulling the other up. As time went on with this routine, Steve slowly began to clap Bucky on the shoulder. The first few times you watched it happen, Bucky elbowed Steve in the ribs roughly to get the younger man to let go. As Steve continued to clap Bucky’s shoulder, Bucky moved from elbowing Steve to only tensing up under the touch and allowing it to stay. Until one day, you saw Steve do it and Bucky didn’t react. Steve’s hand stayed on Bucky’s shoulder as they left the gym. He didn’t seem to be uncomfortable by the action, but you could tell that Steve was relieved his friend was no longer frightened by the action. It was common, now, for Steve to clap Bucky on the shoulder, or shove him away while laughing. 
Slowly, Bucky got accustomed to Sam as well. On the rare occasions that Bucky let Steve convince him to have Sam train with them, Bucky only offered Sam his metal hand when he’d knock Sam to the floor. And once again, as time went on Sam would offer up a brief touch. But instead of taking the initiative like Steve had done, he’d just hold up a fist. The first time it happened, you had to hold in laughter as Bucky stared down at the fist with his head tilted in confusion. You watched as Steve explained it, pointing between Sam’s fist and Bucky’s hand, until Steve demonstrated that Sam merely wanted a fist bump. And every time, Sam gave Bucky the choice between doing the fist bump or not. Bucky always lifted his metal arm and pressed his metal fist against Sam’s own briefly before pulling away. It was obvious, the distance he held between himself and Sam compared to how he acted with Steve. Using his metal arm to pull sam up from the training mat, giving fistbumps with his metal arm. 
But then there were the moments between you and Bucky. Moments that you cherished. These were moments where he initiated contact between the two of you, ever so slightly. He’d jokingly elbow you at times, much like the first time on the couch. A brief nudge to get your attention, wanting to have your attention. Sometimes it was because he wanted to ask you something, other times to tell you something, and on rare occasions just because he wanted you to show you something. It was these intentional touches that made you notice the seemingly unintentional touches. It became common for Bucky to be in the same room as you, so you never thought twice about him asking you to pass him something. Little things like a pen, the remote, a bottle of water, and other common objects. You’d hold out the item he’d asked for, he’d reach out for it with his right hand, and you’d feel the gentle brush of his fingers against yours. It could seem inconsequential, but knowing just how much he values his own space you realized it was intentional on his part. Each time he took the item with a quiet thanks, you thought you’d see the corners of his mouth tick up slightly. He always avoided using his metal arm with you, letting the warmth of his right hand brush against you in these cases.
Getting to know this man obliterated you. You’d originally just wanted to be welcoming to him, understanding how difficult it could be to get to know the team. He had the advantage of knowing Steve for so long, even if he hadn’t had all his memories back yet by the time he first joined. But the first few months of knowing him had been mostly quiet. Occasionally finding yourselves in the same room, and him choosing to stay in that room with you instead of leaving the way he did with so many of the others. It took one night of the two of you unable to sleep to actually talk. You’d been sitting in front of the window that overlooked the balcony of your floor of rooms for a few minutes, replaying the nightmare you’d just woken up from in your mind. You heard something move behind you, and when you looked Bucky was there. His face looked haunted. You patted the floor beside you, letting him know he was welcome to sit. It was silent for a few minutes, the two of you listening to the other’s breathing slowly relax. 
Bucky cleared his throat, furrowed brows causing him to look conflicted about whatever he wanted to say. “Do they happen every night for you? The nightmares?”
You shrugged, not knowing what he wanted to hear, “For me it’s most nights. For Sam it’s rare, and Steve will have one every few months.”
Bucky nodded, his brow smoothing out. He let out a sigh as he turned to face the city. 
“They’re usually memories. Sometimes the person changes, but they’re always memories,” you whisper what your nightmares contain. Your chest feels less constricted as you admit this.
Bucky’s shoulders sag, “They’re usually memories.” He confirms. 
You hated that he understood your nightmares so well, but you felt better knowing you weren’t the only one. That it was something you’d already survived, yet you never knew at what cost that survival would hurt. Out of the corner of your eye, you’d seen Bucky turn so he was facing you again. 
His face was open, one of the few times you didn’t see the lines of a scowl ghosting over his features. “Do you want to talk about it?” 
You turned to face him, a weak smile pulling your cheeks upward. “I’ll show my scars if you show yours,” you joked.
The laugh that escaped him both surprised and captivated you. It was that laugh, that glimpse at what he was really like, that caused your feelings for him to shift. From that feeling of wanting his friendship, to this consuming feeling of affection. You now wanted to be closer to him than just the friendship you’d hoped would come to be. A warmth settled into your ribs, making your heart beat quicker, as you realized you would do anything for this man. 
“I think that’s only fair,” he promises you. 
That was the night the two of you began your friendship. He opened up to you after you told him about how you failed a mission, causing more casualties by getting injured than if you’d been more aware of your attackers surrounding you. He recounted to you one of the times he was being strapped into the chair they used to shock his memories into oblivion. That night, you decided he was now your best friend. You’d hoped that calling him your best friend would cover up some of the reason you’d become so attached at the hip. Not wanting to reveal that you’d suddenly found yourself with feelings for Bucky that you knew wouldn’t be returned, you settled for the next best option. You decided it’d be enough to just have him as a friend.
As the two of you began to build up your friendship, you acknowledged the realization you’d had that first night. Certainly it would be enough for you if he just continued to steal small touches when asking you about something, hanging out together in a comfortable silence, and opening up to each other late at night. Except the feeling never lessened, and every day you were more head over heels for this man than the last. And as long as he was willing to have you in his life, then you were right. His presence was enough. 
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The door behind you clicks open, but you don’t bother to face it, too lost in your own thoughts. Analyzing every time you and Bucky happened to touch. You felt extremely guilty. Everyone knew that he avoided physical contact, and yet you repeatedly felt the warmth of his hand gently pressing against you. The torture he went through was more than enough to understand why he made sure to avoid being touched, but what you just read? Him losing any choice in what he did with his body was horrible, but that day he lost that little amount of control he’d still had over what happened with his body. 
“You’re drenched,” Bucky’s gruff voice broke you out of your tortured thoughts. “Why are you out in the rain?”
You look up at him, seeing the rain slowly dampen his shirt. “It wasn’t raining when I came out here,” you lamely explain. 
Bucky stares down at you for a moment longer before sitting beside you. He keeps his usual distance between the two of you, and you think of all the reasons that could be. To have him beside you, just close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him, and yet far enough away there’s no way you could accidentally brush against him. 
“How long have you been out here?” He tentatively asks into the quiet night. 
You shrug, “The last time I remember seeing was one o’clock when I left my office.”
Bucky nods while shifting how he’s sat. He leans back so his arms are supporting him, and his legs shift just enough for you to feel his calf against yours. You tense slightly at the touch, feeling guilty about the contact that now exists between the two of you. You adjust how you’re seated, drawing your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them before resting your head against your forearms to look at Bucky. You watch as his brow furrows, the way it has the rain trailing down his face to change its path. 
“It’s almost three,” Bucky’s gaze flits between your eyes. “What’s wrong?”
You shake your head, trying to brush off his question. “I was just working– and there were so many files. I was typing for hours, and–” You suddenly find yourself choked up on the lie you were ready to tell him. That you hadn’t accidentally just invaded his privacy so severely that he’d no longer want you to handle his files. 
Bucky reaches out and gently holds your hand, runs his thumb across your knuckles. “Easy, deep breaths,” he guides you. “A busy day at work, no reason to cry, yeah?” He tries to comfort you. 
You let out a wet laugh, wishing this were merely one of your breakdowns from a stressful day of work. You shake your head, using your free hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks only to feel them replaced by the rain. You watch as Bucky bites the inside of his cheek. The look in his eye tells you he wants to ask you more questions, but at the same time he’s giving you time to calm down. 
“I, uh,” you wet your lips. “I was going through files, and typing out what was in them. And I wanted to get as much done today as possible. So, when I was tired, I saw a small stack of folders. I thought they’d be quick, that I’d finish one last stack and then go to bed. But, the files,” you look up to avoid his eyes, “they were some of yours.”
Bucky’s thumb falters slightly in its path across your knuckles, “Oh.”
You nod, hating the knowledge you now have. You gently pull your hand from his hold to wrap your arms tightly around yourself. As though hugging yourself would keep you from falling apart again. 
Bucky’s face looks pained as he finally asks the question you’ve dreaded answering. “What did it say?”
Closing your eyes, you let the words spill past your lips, “It was back in fifty-two. You’d apparently been at the base that was just cleared out. They’d had a mission for you, one different from the others from what I can guess,” your voice broke. “Pierce wrote a disciplinary report for the Winter Soldier. During a training session, something happened. Whatever they were hoping for you to achieve while training didn’t, and as punishment Pierce had some officers assist him in disciplining as preparation for the assignment.” You opened your eyes to look at Bucky as you spat the word used to describe what they did to him. 
Bucky was still as he listened to you. He held your gaze as you spoke, keeping his face as neutral as possible. You saw his sadness take over his gaze as he understood the file you read upset you because of him being punished. “It was what they did, tried to make me comply so that–”
“It was different,” you interrupted his attempt at reassuring you as you closed your eyes. You couldn’t bear to see how he’d react to what you now knew. “Pierce wrote how he commanded you not to retaliate. He made sure you were complacent. Then, he had other officers punish you, and they forced you to the ground. Pierce detailed the way they…used…your body,” you shuddered. “He was detached in the way he described what happened, yet at the same time it was clear he enjoyed what he’d witnessed.”
Bucky’s hand gently cupped your cheek, the touch startling you. You couldn’t help the way you leaned into his soft touch. 
“You passed out at one point,” you whispered. “They kept going. One of them beat you while you were unconscious before joining the other officer in the way you were being punished. Pierce wrote that having two of them on you at once caused your body to jerk, and then you were awake. Once they were done, your body was shaking. Pierce decided then was when he would get involved, and once he stopped you were bloodied and shaking. You were left in the room, exposed on the floor, to have your enhancements heal you before the mission the next day. One that I think was similar to what Pierce put you through that night,” you choked out past the lump in your throat as you finished revealing everything you knew. 
Bucky’s hand pulled away from you, and you sobbed at the loss of his touch. 
“I’m so sorry,” you brokenly admitted. “You didn’t deserve that. The horrors that they put you through, you didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry, so, so sorry. I had no idea Bucky, and then I just found out. That wasn’t something you should have no choice in telling someone, and I swear I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. It was an accident–”
Your words get caught in your throat as you feel the ground disappear beneath you. There’s a strong hold around you, a steady swaying motion, as you open your eyes to find Bucky carrying you back into the tower. He carries you straight into his room, walking past his bed, and sits you on the counter of his bathroom. He pulls out a towel and wraps the plush material around you. 
“Look at me,” he gruffly demands. 
Using the corner of the towel to wipe away your falling tears, you look up to meet his piercing blue eyes. 
He settles between your knees, bracing his hands on either side of your legs to level his gaze with yours. “That was not your fault. I trust you to know everything I went through. You’re the only one I trust to go through every one of those files. You’re the only one I demanded Fury give access to those files. When they get sorted, if the first page reveals me, the file gets closed and sent to your office, okay? That’s the protocol I demanded be put in place. If any file so much as mentions me, then it’s getting sent to you for review.”
You nod weakly, “Okay.”
“I remember everything that has happened in those files. I may have no idea what they decided to put into a file, but I remember everything they did. So you don’t have to worry about invading my privacy, or learning about what I’ve been through. You could never invade my privacy. I did everything possible to ensure that you were the only one that could learn anything about me without having to ask,” Bucky hands move to cup your cheeks, “because I want you to know me. Every broken, damaged, and healing part of me. I want you to know it. I trust you to know it.”
“You aren’t broken. Or damaged.”
Bucky rests his head against your shoulder with a bitter laugh. 
You raise your hand slightly, “Can I touch you?”
Bucky nods against your shoulder. You thread your fingers through his hair, gently scratching. His body shudders beside you, and you reach out tentatively to cup the warm hand he has against your cheek. You thread your fingers between his and guide his hand to your lips. You press a lingering kiss to his palm. 
“That was the first time it happened,” Bucky murmurs against your collar bone. “The first mission they chose for the Winter Soldier that wasn’t an assassination. The first time they decided to sell my body.”
You frown, “The first?”
“Those missions only happened a few times over all the years.” 
You bite back the tears that try to overcome you again. “You didn’t deserve any of it. None of the things they did were okay. Nothing you could ever do would justify what they did to you. What they forced you to do.”
“That’s another reason I made sure you were the only person with access to my files,” Bucky leans back to look at you softly. “Because I knew you would never judge me for any of it. Not for the missions, the punishments, the experiments they ran. You’ve never stopped looking at me the way you did when we first met despite everything you’ve learned.”
“Of course not,” you promised. “Because that wasn’t you that went on the missions. You were being controlled by horrible people who didn’t see you as anything other than a tool they could use. In reality you’re a person that has choices. Choices that were ripped away from you for years. You’re the sweetest man I know. You care so much about everyone else, that it’s impossible not to care about you. To worry about you when you’re out on missions. You’re the only person that I fully trust in everything. I want to learn everything about you, all the good that’s happened to you and all the bad. Because no matter what, I have always loved you and always will no matter what those files say. Because that’s what you deserve, is someone who trusts in you, heart and soul, no matter what has happened and will happen. I will always trust you, and want to learn everything you’re willing to share. Okay?”
Bucky looks dazed as you finish your passionate speech. You shake slightly from the rush of emotions overwhelming you. Slowly, his cheeks redden as his eyes flicker between your own. You don’t back down from his gaze, willing him to believe every word you just said.
“You love me?” Bucky whispers. 
Your eyes widen, the words you just told him catching up to you. With squared shoulders and an even gaze you repeat, “Heart and soul.”
Bucky’s shoulders sag further, “Can I hug you?”
You wrap your arms around him, quickly being engulfed by him. “You never have to ask to touch me. In any way. I trust you, all of you.”
“You never have to ask either.” 
The two of you stay there in silence. Your ear pressed against his chest while you were wrapped firmly in his arms. His nose stays pressed against your hair. Slowly, water drips off of Bucky and onto the tiled floor. You shiver slightly at the coldness that has seeped into your bones. Bucky’s hold on you tightens at the feeling.
“Let me grab you a change of clothes,” Bucky whispers against your hair. 
The loss of his hold makes the cold air around you rush back. You shiver in earnest at the chill of the bathroom. Despite being able to dry off the excess water that had soaked you from the rain, you were still damp. Your clothes stuck uncomfortably against your skin, and you moved the towel to your hair. As you finally get your hair dried, Bucky returns with a stack of neatly folded clothes. 
“Thank you,” you smile up at him, taking the clothes from his hold. 
Bucky gives a polite nod before he steps out of the bathroom, once again leaving you in the chill of the room. You pull off your clothes, putting them in a wet pile inside the bathtub. You lifted the first item Bucky had on the stack, and as it fell open you realized it was his maroon henley. You pulled the shirt over yourself, and enjoyed the way you were nearly drowning in it. The hem stopped just above your knees, and the sleeves fell well past your fingertips. Unfolding the second item, you saw they were some black sweatpants. As you tie them securely over your hips, you realize you don’t think you’ve ever seen Bucky wear them. Pulling on the socks he’d brought you, you sighed in relief for the reprieve from the cold. 
“Are you decent?” You called out. 
You heard Bucky’s muffled laugh before he called out, “I’m clothed, you can come out.”
You opened the bathroom door and stepped into his bedroom. Bucky was propped against the headboard of his bed, and a lamp was on causing the room to be filled with a warm glow. Bucky had on his own pair of black sweatpants and a white a-shirt. You walked toward the bed, and sat down on the edge, making sure to leave the usual space between the two of you. You chew the inside of your cheek, thinking over everything Bucky told you. 
“What’s wrong?” Bucky frowns.
You lace your hands together, “Nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking about some of the stuff you said, and I was debating how to ask you about it.”
“Whatever you want to know I’ll answer,” Bucky gently prompted. 
“Okay,” you take a deep breath and try to think of how to phrase your questions. “You chose me to handle your files?”
“Obviously Fury has access to whatever is in them as well, but you’re the only agent other than me. Tony was furious and demanded the team have access, but Steve supported my choice. He managed to convince Fury that it should be up to me who gets to access my files,” Bucky explains. “This really only became an argument after we cleared out the first Hydra base. Steve noticed there were files on me, and he set up a meeting with Fury and me after Tony found out Hydra had files on me. I told Fury that I had no issues with S.H.I.E.L.D owning the files, but that I wanted some guarantee of privacy of my past. I explained I was willing to give full access to the files to him as the director, but that I didn’t want just anyone to be able to read everything. You’d been the most understanding and welcoming to me at that point, so I chose you. Every file was to be sent to you to be added to the database, Fury would be able to see them from there, and I was able to check my memories matched what was reported.”
“I don't get why you didn't give access to Steve?”
Bucky shrugged, “I’m not the only one who feels guilt over that period of my life. Steve fought to go back along where the tracks were on the ground. It was Peggy and Howard that had told him there was no way I’d be able to survive a fall at that speed. They explained it was very unlikely to find my body from the amount of snow that I would have fallen into and would have covered me. None of us knew at that point that Zola had already injected me with his version of the serum, or that it was successful. I didn’t change the way Steve did. So, Steve thinks he should have fought harder to search for me.” 
Your shoulders slump, “Oh.”
Bucky nods, understanding exactly how you feel. “Steve shouldn’t feel responsible for it, but he does. He knows about the missions I was sent on, but I don’t want him to know about exactly what happened to me. I made him aware that I was trained and they shocked my memories into nothingness regularly, but that’s all he knows.”
“You said that wasn’t the only mission they…” You trailed off, not wanting to say what they assigned him to do.
“That was the first,” Bucky nodded. “That was also the only time they decided to punish me like that, but they still prepared me for those missions. Those weren’t brutal like the first time was. Total, there were seven of those missions. Ultimately, it was established clients of Hydra that were aware of the Winter Soldier and what I had been capable of. These individuals wanted to feel a sense of power over the Winter Soldier in a way beyond commanding me to kill someone. After the first mission like that, it was only the highest ranked clients of Hydra that were able to pay for me to bend to their desires,” Bucky swallowed. 
“What happened to them?” You whispered. 
Bucky looked away from you, down to where his hands lay in his lap. “I killed them. At one point, Hydra decided these clients held too much power over certain missions. One of these clients would want a different client to be killed, and that target wanted another client to be killed. To handle this, Hydra accepted the contracts and took the payment. But the assignment of the Winter Soldier was to kill the top clients of Hydra.”
“When were you assigned to assassinate these clients?”
“It was seventy-eight. I didn’t complete that assignment until seventy-nine, though. There was talk about clients paying for the Winter Soldier to hunt down some of the other clients. When the first was assassinated, the others went into hiding. I was to hunt them undetected until they were all eliminated.”
“You were active for a full year?” You were surprised. 
Bucky nodded. 
“What about your memories in all that time?”
“They started to come back sometimes. I was to return to Pierce every month as a progress report. These reports were when Hydra would provide the beginning of recent paper trails from my targets. It was usually at these times, as well, that my memories had started to return. I would ask something, questioning why I was searching for these people, or why I remembered something but couldn’t place its meaning. I’d be strapped down, they’d shove something into my mouth so I wouldn’t break my jaw, and then the electricity fried my brain.”
You shuddered at the memories you held of recordings Hydra kept of wiping Bucky’s memories. “How did they know how to get your memories to disappear?”
“Shock therapy was popular back in the forties. It was a treatment they believed made patients happier and more willing to accept treatments. At first, Zola was hoping it would make me more susceptible to brainwashing. What they didn’t expect was that my body couldn’t heal that damage at the rate it did combat injuries. Where a bullet wound would heal in a day with a faint scar that would sometimes be gone the next day, my body could take months to heal the damage shock therapy caused. When active, my body healed the damage faster than in cryostasis. The usual temporary memory loss lasted longer for me because it took my body so long to heal from how long they would shock me.” 
You sat in silence for a moment, your eyes watering at that information, “Would it be okay if I hugged you?”
Bucky opened his arms to you. “I told you, you never have to ask to touch me,” he tenderly said.
You shifted onto your knees and moved toward his open arms. You allowed yourself to fall into his hold, reassured by the solid arms that wrapped around you. You reminded yourself that he was fine now, nobody could get him. He was safe from everything. You buried your face into the safety of Bucky’s shoulder, not trying to keep your tears from falling. As you cried, Bucky held you tight and quietly reassured you that he was fine. As his hand began to rub slowly across your back, your tears slowed and your sniffles quieted into hiccups. 
“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I should be stronger about this by now.”
Bucky pulled away from you, wiping your tears away once more. He shook his head gently before he opened and closed his mouth. “I think it’s a good thing,” Bucky started off, “it goes to show how much you care. I don’t like that I seem to be the cause of so much of what upsets you, but I appreciate how much you care about me. And I am so lucky to have you care about me.”
You couldn’t deny the wobble in your smile as you looked up at him, “I like caring about you.”
Bucky’s body shook beneath you as he laughed, “I like you caring about me too.”
You jokingly shoved his shoulder while trying to push your way out of his hold. He didn’t budge against your struggles, but you felt him loosen his grip on your waist. His arms fell away slightly, giving you plenty of space to wiggle out from the hug he’d been keeping you in. You kept up your dramatic struggle, but made sure not to pull away from him. As the two of your laughter calmed down, you stopped your struggle. Your body relaxed against Bucky, fully melting against his relaxed form. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to catch your breath, each puff of air making your chest bump against Bucky’s.
“Why do you let me touch you?” You wonder aloud. 
Bucky tilts his head, “What?”
“You let me touch you,” you point out, “and you’ve told me twice now that I don’t need to ask. Why?”
Bucky shrugs, “I feel safe with you. I don’t fear that something bad will happen to me when I’m around you. With you, it’s different. I don’t have the sudden flash of fear whenever you’re close to me the way I do with other people.”
“Not even with Steve?” You ask gently. 
Bucky shakes his head with a sigh. “He’s my best friend, and I trust him to always do what’s right. Before the war, he was very different. He’s the same on the inside, but now he holds so much responsibility. I know he would never want to do anything to hurt me, but there’s always going to be a risk with me. The trigger words don’t work any more, but I’m afraid that one day something might happen. I could get severe head trauma, or somehow my wires get crossed up there. And I’m going to have to rely on Steve to handle the Winter Soldier and do the right thing. I’ve told him this, Steve knows my concerns, and he knows I expect him not to hold back.”
You reach out and pull his metal hand into your lap, wrapping both hands around his.
Bucky takes a deep breath, “I can’t risk something like that. I can’t risk becoming him again. Especially not when it comes to you. I trust you fully, and I feel things so strongly toward you that it scares me sometimes, yet you’ve never been afraid of me.” 
You lifted his metal hand up to cup your cheek, keeping your hand against his. “You don’t have to worry about anything with me. I fully trust you, and I believe you would never hurt me. Even if something happened to cause the Winter Soldier to return, you wouldn’t hurt me. I know you sometimes struggle to trust yourself, so let me trust you for the both of us,” you turn your head to press a kiss into his palm. 
Bucky smiles down at you, “I don’t know how you’ve managed to do it, but you make me feel whole in a way I never thought would be possible again. You erase every bad thing that has ever happened to me and every bad thing I’ve ever done. I ache when it comes to you. I want to feel your touch in any way I can and that terrifies me. Selfishly I started bumping your shoulder, brushing past you in the kitchen, letting my hand brush against yours. I did anything I could to feel your soft touch, and it was so relieving compared to how I’ve felt about being touched for so long. I fight to stay awake until you go to bed, just so I can know you’re safe. You’ve been a breath of fresh air for me in so many ways; I stopped caring about how I was supposed to act with you. I haven’t felt this way since before the train. I didn’t think I was capable of these feelings anymore,” Bucky quietly admits. 
“I was scared when I realized my feelings for you,” you quietly admit. “It was that first night, where I made that stupid joke about revealing my scars to you. I was so sleep deprived that those words just slipped out, and you laughed. It sounded so carefree, and happy, and loud. You tilted your head back, and for once you were actually smiling. It was like I got to see you for the first time instead of this person that had been hurting for so long. A glimpse at what you would’ve been like if we’d met in the forties,” you smile up at Bucky. “I was captivated by you. In that instant, I was gone. But we hadn’t really talked before then, and I figured you’d always keep me at arms length. I figured it’d be enough just to have you as my best friend, and I decided I’d be content with whatever you were willing to consider me so I could have you in my life.”
Bucky leaned in close to you, his breath fanning across your face. “I have been head over heels in love with you since the day you introduced yourself to me. You held your hand out to me, and I just nodded with a mumbled greeting. Without missing a beat you gave this small wave and carried on talking like I was a normal person. You were the only one who hadn’t faltered at my weariness while treating me like everyone else. Something inside me clicked like I was finally somewhere I could call home. All because you didn’t treat me like some scared animal that needed comforting. Steve noticed immediately, and when you walked away he gave me this knowing smile. I tried to deny it but it was obvious I was lying. Anytime you were in the same room as me, I was drawn to you. I’d keep finding myself looking for you when I entered a room, or coming to stand near you.”
Your eyes dropped from his and landed on his lips. He was so close that you’d just barely need to lean forward to feel his lips against yours. You looked back up to Bucky’s gaze, and he just barely nodded. You felt him pull you closer as you leaned in to kiss him. When your lips met his, it felt like something in you clicked into place. Bucky kissed you back gently, the kiss remaining sweet and lingering. Slowly, you pulled away to breath and Bucky rested his forehead against yours. 
“I have no idea how I managed to keep myself from doing this sooner,” Bucky groaned. 
You breathed a laugh, “I have no idea how I convinced myself I’d ever be okay being only your friend.”
Bucky laughed at your words, nodding with a smile. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, and you rolled off his lap. You cozied up into his side, fingers laced with his metal ones while his warm hand traced lazy shapes into your side. Bucky rests his head atop yours. Your emotions no longer felt like they were running wild, a calmness had settled over the two of you. 
“I want to treat this right,” Bucky says into your hair. “I want to take you out, and ask you to be my girl. Treat you the way you deserve.”
“I’ve always been your Bucky,” you lightly tease. “But I would like to experience that ‘Barnes charm’ Steve always teases you about.”
“You’ll get the whole nine yards, doll. We can go out to dinner, I can show you the Brooklyn I remember, kiss you goodnight. I’ll give you the full treatment,” the smile was obvious in Bucky’s voice. “Whatcha say?”
You hummed, “I say that Friday at seven works.”
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Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.
©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.
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gladumfdoodles · 5 months
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Working on my next fic, it's grian centric and I'm beginning to realize that I just like putting this poor block man into the most miserable situations
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aftgficrec · 2 months
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hi besties! can i be a bit weird and ask for sick fics here? old/new/favorites, any will do! just some big ol’ hurt/ comfort, especially if combined with some emotional hurt/comfort 🥰
There’s nothing weird about this at all!  Apart from the fics below, there’s also our sickfic tag as well as our hurt/comfort tag for more (see our tag page under the heading ‘themes - injuries/illnesses/conditions’). - S
Previous recs:
cool andreil sick fics here
sick fics here
foxes with headaches/sick fics here
10k+ sick fics here
Andreil in hospital here
Neil with major injury here
Neil gets injured (post canon) here
Neil & car accidents here
accident-prone Neil here
Andreil with amnesia here
medical Andreil/Aaron & Neil here
Neil getting roofied here
Also see… 
‘we're one (there's nothing to be done)’ here
‘Just like that day’ here
‘head case (what to do with you)’ here
‘Such Stuff as Dreams are Made’ here
‘Neil Josten Is a Lucky Man’ here
‘Broken’ here
‘If Only I Were Enough’ (completed) here
‘I'll Come Back To You’ here
‘glass in the trees (objects in the rearview)’ here
‘Running Ragged’ here
‘To Love and Be Loved’ here
‘all that looking down’ here
‘next best thing’, keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?)’ and ‘no matter when and where, we’ll be alright’ here
‘Can Nobody Hear Me (I cannot breathe)’, ‘I remeber tears streaming down your face (for me to wipe them away)’, ‘you crawled inside my head’, ‘living leaves so many holes in us’, ‘Ciggarette Smoke Cure’, ‘Breathless’, ‘i've done my time’ and ‘cats and close calls’ here
‘The Highs and Lows of Pre-med Majors' here (Aaron)
‘Hold My Hand?’ here
‘Echo’ here 
I’m More Than This Body of Mine by yall_send_help [Rated M, 88811 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]
The doctor took a pause, which Nathaniel was able to use to ask, “what about my leg?” The two pigs had the audacity to look surprised. The doctor looked over at them with a hint of confusion. “You didn’t tell him?” Towns shook his head as Browning said, “you told us not to.” Dr. Byrd nodded her head in approval and turned back to the bed. “Nathaniel…” she trailed off, reevaluating her words. “Would you mind if I sit?” and only after his own nod did she. “The damage done to your leg… it was unlike what most of the staff at this hospital had ever seen. The surgeons tried to save it, but…” She looked down at where his legs were and Nathaniel did too, only to feel himself pale at what he found. “The surgery took about three hours,” Dr. Byrd continued. “The only reason why it took so long was because the surgeons really did try to save your leg. They did. Amputations usually take only half that time. Eventually, Dr. McCoy called it. Because of the damage done to your leg, we couldn’t wake you up to ask. It had to go. I’m sorry.” or - the one where neil goes to baltimore and comes back missing a leg
tw: torture, tw: amputation, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: blood, tw: animal cruelty, tw: implied/referenced drug overdose
fireproof by mostly_maudlin [Rated T, 2097 words, complete, 2024]
Andrew gets his flu shot.
Things Always Gets Worse Before They Gets Better series by Renee_Walker_09 [Rated G, 40141 words, incomplete, 3 complete works, 2024]
Part 1: Beginnings & Endings (G, 1083 words)
It's 1:30 in the morning. The Foxes are celebrating their championship win against the Ravens the only way they know how to: booze, partying, and a little bit more booze. Nothing could possibly ruin this?
tw: car accident, tw: major character injury
Part 2: You Mean Everything To Me (G, 12767 words)
There are two crashed cars. There’s blood on the floor. Lights are flashing all around. Andrew is standing in the middle of the crash site with a blanket draped across his shoulders as he stares straight at Neil, lying on the floor.
tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: suicide attempt, tw: drug overdose, tw: blood, tw: self harm
Part 3: Hours, Days, Weeks (G, 26299 words)
Andrew is lying in a coma following the accident. His condition is critical. And Neil and Aaron have to find a way to cope.  Neil and Aaron’s POVs of the crash and the past 6 weeks
tw: car accident, tw: blood, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: self harm, tw: panic attacks, tw: seizures
NB: find art for the fics by the author here as well as embedded in the fics
Even goalkeepers can’t block sickness by BlowingYourMind [Rated G, 12768 words, complete, 2024]
“Rabbit,” Andrew peered up at him with half lidded eyes, “Yes or no?” “Yes ‘Drew,” Neil clasped his hands at Andrew’s elbows, “it’s always a yes, you know that.” “No ‘s not,” Andrew weakly argued as he took hold of Neil’s chest pad, using it to leverage himself upwards. It was awkward work of walking half-delirious Andrew back to the locker room, shielding him from the crowd while keeping him on his feet, but they managed. Or Andrew becomes very sick at an away game, and Neil and the foxes take care of him.
tw: vomit
the upswing by missgivings [Not Rated, 45569 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]
The next universe over, life has gone a bit easier on Andrew. He’s gainfully employed as a nurse of all things, working beside his best friend Renee, and living in relative harmony with his brother, the recently graduated Dr. Aaron Minyard. Everything’s fine. It’s fine that he hasn’t spoken to Kevin in person for three years. It’s fine if Aaron’s leaving him to marry his stupid doctor girlfriend. It’s fine until the boy with the box-dyed hair stumbles into the ER and passes out at his feet, bringing a world of secrets and trouble with him. And Neil? Neil’s looking for any port in a storm.
tw: major character injury, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced self harm
please (don't bite) by Major_816 [Rated M, 5478 words, complete, 2024]
Genioglossus. It’s a fan-shaped muscle and forms the bulk of the inferior part of the tongue. It stretches to the hyoid bone too. ~ Neil wakes up to a bad day and it just gets worse.
tw: blood, tw: self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: nightmares, tw: flashbacks, tw: vomit
Will you love me for who I am, not for who I was? by something_boring [Rated T, 1580 words, complete, 2024]
Neil is sick on New Year's eve, wakes up to the fireworks, and continues to have a panic attack about his time on the run.
tw: nightmares, tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced child abuse
Your Needs, My Needs by TogeMythia [Rated T, 1073 words, complete, 2023]
‘Neil.’ He whined, his face still buried under the blankets. ‘Hrmph?’ Neil responded with a confused noise from somewhere across the bed. ‘Do you feel as shit as you sound?’ - Or Neil and Andrew wake up sick on Christmas day.
tw: vomit
To be safe by HushedStars [Rated G, 2116 words, complete, 2023]
Neil is feeling unwell. He seeks comfort from Matt. It was late at night. Neil stood in the kitchen, deep in thought but still with one ear alert for any movement of his roommates. He shifted from foot to foot, hands digging into his sore neck
tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks
Safe with him by 1mNot4Hum4n [Not Rated, 2434 words, complete, 2023]
Neil is sick but doesn't want to admit it. He can't be sick. He can't be weak. Luckily Andrew is there to make sure his junkie is okay, and remind him that he has people around him who are willing to do anything to protect him.
'tis the season by moonix [Rated T, 5579 words, complete, 2023]
Five holidays Andrew had to let Kevin take care of him and one time he got to return the favour.
i called your name ‘til the fever broke by cyanica [Rated T, 5632 words, incomplete, last updated Nov 2023]
Neil’s breath is hot and awful against Andrew’s thigh. “I can’t be sick on your birthday,” he says, like it’s that simple. “I can’t be sick on you on your birthday.” “How considerate,” Andrew’s voice is a bland murmur, and he is left watching Neil’s bloodless, wet lips, as he curls into Andrew’s lap. Neil gently pulls away after a moment, leaning back into Andrew’s hand on his neck. “Is me being sick still making you anxious?” he asks. Fever-stricken with dizzied-eyes and delirious thoughts, he knows Andrew without more than a moment beside him, a look into his eyes that makes Andrew feel undone, found. Or Neil is sick and Andrew isn’t coping well.
tw: vomit, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation, tw: anxiety
You Know I'm Good On My Own by sambutwithbooks [Rated G, 4568 words, complete, Aftg Then And Now 2023]
Andrew breaks his arm two games into the season and it feels a little bit like Neil’s world snaps with it. (A snapshot of Neil and Andrew between Andrew coming home from the hospital and going back home to Palmetto State.)
tw: major character injury
that's my line by sillyunicorn6154 [Rated G, 1291 words, complete, 2023]
Andrew is definitely not sick. But he is a little stubborn.
You're not fine, but you will be by karmenvi [Not Rated, 616 words, complete, 2023]
Neil is sick, so Andrew takes care of him. So it was supposed to be a sickfic, but it turned into 'Andrew stares at Neil and thinks his boyfriend is the prettiest boy in the world.' Anyway, enjoy some fluff.
I'll be okay if he's here by obsessivereader156 [Not Rated, 1673 words, complete, 2023]
“Thank you, Drew,” Neil says for the twentieth time, feeling so lucky to have someone take care of him. “Say it again and I will kill you.” “You’re just so nice to me,” Neil says a bit deliriously, “I’ve never had someone take care of me when I’m sick.”
If it means losing you, then no by LostMess_24 [Rated T, 6712 words, complete, 2023]
There was something against his hand, a pressure he knew too well, a hand that fit so perfectly against his, making Andrew’s presence known, making Neil’s entire body relax, slowing his breathing a bit. But before Neil could see the man at his side, it hit him. He was starting to feel it, all around him. Those white walls, the mattress he was in, the soft yet old sheets, the pressure on his arm. And finally, unmistakably, the regular and aggressive beeps, signs of a life that was his own. He was in a hospital bed. There’s an accident. Those idiots would do anything and everything to protect each other.
tw: major character injury, tw: car accidents
cause and effect by mistyrie [Rated M, 13107 words, complete, 2023]
"Andrew realized what he was seeing but he couldn’t comprehend it. He didn’t know how to help. There was no enemy to deal with – there was just Neil seizing on the floor and Andrew didn’t know what to do." Neil starts having seizures and Andrew tries to help.
tw: seizures (epilepsy)
how the foxes act when they're sick by @detectivebambam [tumblr, 2024]
headcanons on the foxes and illness
headcanons on Neil getting sick by @24-0z [tumblr, 2022]
Neil doesn't get sick very often, so when he finally catches the bug that had been going around campus, he's suddenly 8 years old again, sweating and trembling with fever
SICK!Neil for my soul. by @satan-in-a-v-neck [tumblr, 2021]
Neil is acting strange. Ask every fox and they'll tell you that for the past three days Neil Josten wasn't acting very Neil Josteny.
tw: vomit
illness/injuries as background event:
The Songs Around Us by doodlingstuff [Rated M, 80075 words, complete, 2022]
The mission was simple: Nathaniel would join Astral Foxes as Neil Josten and make them part of Moriyama Music. In reality, Neil became real, found a home, and fell in love despite his lies. When the Moriyamas send the Butcher to remind Neil of his mission and Andrew's life ends on the line, Neil will have to find a way to escape his fate and bring Andrew back. As he gets closer to losing the man he loves the most, Neil will realize that sometimes, music is the only answer, and others, truth is the only weapon he can use. Another Band!AU. This time extra angsty.
tw: torture, tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: violence
NB: find art for this fic by @doodlingstuff here
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nsfw-kill-me-now · 2 years
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Blood
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Instead of Bonnie dying on the cross, the Billy Boys decide to have some fun with the young Gold's future wife. They beat her, have their way with her until she's bloody and unconscious, shoot her in the chest, and tie her to the cross. By some miracle, if you could call it that, the girl survived, but she'll never be the same.
THIS FIC IS VERY MUCH INCOMPLETE. I DON'T KNOW WHEN I'LL FINISH IT, OR IF I WILL. I WILL TAKE CRITICISM BUT KEEP IN MIND THAT THIS IS MY FIRST FIC EVER POSTED.
Warnings: fem!reader, heavy angst, allusions to rape, blood (mentioned), miscarriage, paralysis, likely inaccurate depictions of a Birmingham-based hospital in the 1920s, abortion themes, childhood abuse (mentioned), verbal abuse (mentioned), MASSIVE TRIGGERS ALTOGETHER
While there are absolutely no religious themes or allusions in this fic, I did partially base this on my own experience being raised Catholic (tho not in an ideal, "good" Catholic household if that makes sense), as well as events that have happened in my extended family, including but not limited to: mental/verbal child abuse, rape, disability, and miscarriage.
Let me know what you think in the comments!
.
"Was it a girl? A boy?"
A pause. "A girl."
"I want to hold her."
A gasp. "No."
"Give her to me."
"I-I'm sorry, th-the fetus has already been--"
"DON'T CALL HER THAT!" I roared, attempting to lung at the poor nurse, but my legs were numb. The girl leaped away, her eyes wide with terror. I wanted to blind her. "SHE'S A BABY! SHE NEEDS HER MOTHER! GIVE HER TO ME! GIVE HER BACK! GIVE HER--"
Arms wrap around my shoulders and I screamed. Back in the forest, the Billy Boys' chanting rang in my ears as their hands groped my body. One of them sliced the front of my dress, cutting flesh down to the stomach. Another squeezed my breasts. Someone slammed his boot into my gut. I couldn't even cry out with a hand covering my mouth. In the hospital, nurses and doctors surrounded me, then I returned once again to the forest. Memory and reality blurred into one. I struggled against the arms wrapped around my midsection, only vaguely processing that I couldn't kick my legs, try as I may. Hot tears spilled from my eyes in the struggle, screaming and scratching the unwelcome touch of my captors. There were no words, only rage and fear and a desire to not be touched. The telltale BANG of a gunshot echoed in the country air. My abdomen felt sticky and warm. Vaguely, I register a cloth covering my mouth, it's sickly-sweet scent all too familiar. My world, hazy and warped, once more fades into darkness.
The next time I woke up, the room was different. A heavy door, white brick walls, and a single window with light streaming through. I went to shield my eyes, but my arms were too heavy. I couldn't even muster out a word, only what could be called a grunt.
Xxxxxxxxxxx
"I can't, Bonnie. I can't get up."
A pause. "Why?" His voice was so small.
I sighed, and looked up to him with sad, tired eyes. "I can't feel my legs."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"I..." My breath hitched. "I... didn't want a baby." I stared at the wall. I couldn't look at her. I didn't want to see her eyes. "I could never be...a good mother. H-How could I? Didn't exactly have the best example."
I paused. "Sh-she'd always held it over my head. 'I could'a 'ad ya killed,' she'd say. 'Should'a let the doc cut ya into pieces an' be done wi' ya,' she'd shout. Like my life was an inconvenience, e-even before my first breath. My own fuckin' mother. And I'll have been just like 'er, wouldn't I?
"B-But.. I still wanted my-- I still wanted her to... have a chance. Bonnie's a good man, and she would have known her father to be a good man. He didn't force me, and I think he knew I didn't want... but I knew he really wanted to be. I tried for him. A-And I get why other people would just get rid of it, there are serious reasons to, but... but I never saw this child as an "it." She was there. She was moving... dancing, even. She was alive. How could I take that away? Even now, I don't understand how anyone believes they have the right to do something like that, even if the m-mum would d-die otherwise. And God, I'm a fuckin' terrible person for saying that, aren't I?" I paused, breath hitching, then continued. "But to me, I'd have killed her. I-I didn't want a kid, but I wanted her to live."
I saw Ada's shoes approach my chair, and she surprised me by wiping my cheeks. When had I started to cry? She gingerly turned my face towards hers, stood back an inch, and opened her arms.
Another pause.
A sob ruptured from my throat. I lunged into her bosom, clung to her satin dress, and cried.
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cloudytaeeee · 1 year
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☁️fic rec☁️
nevermind by rkiveink
retro au (1980s-1990s)
drummer JK & bassist JM
exes to lovers
childhood friends, first love, queer themes, heavy angst, time period typical issues, smut, non-sexual intimacy, recovery, fluff, happy ending
PLEASE read the tags carefully⚠️ there are heavy themes such as drug use & dealing with addiction. for the most part it’s not explicit, just implied/referenced-however, there are detailed individual chapter warnings if there’s anything else to be aware of. besides that though, this is very much about love & healing.
chaptered || 81K words
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let me start off by saying, I absolutely LOVE all of hel’s works. this one in particular is very special to me because it was the first one I ever read from them. also certainly won’t be the last recommendation I post for their stories. they’re amazing and deserve all of the praise!
that being said: I won’t ramble too much because honestly there aren’t enough coherent words to describe my feelings about this story. it’s better to just dive in and fully experience jikook’s journey. as well as all of the emotions that come along with it. which you will feel whether you want to or not (unless you’re a robot lol)-I guarantee something will strike you in one way or another. I definitely cried quite a few times for different reasons. it’s that impactful. like this is one of those fics I wish I could gate keep, but it’s so beautifully written I can’t. that would be selfish and this needs to be shared!
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awesomedurraworld · 3 months
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“ ma’am, your husband kidnapped the State Alchemist, the Fullmetal Alchemist…”
Chapter 27, Gore and Glory go hand in hand.
Coming soon
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steddieunderdogfics · 12 days
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for the soulmate theme weekend, i recommend:
The Moon Turns Gold by Peachesandpears 💕💕💕
The Moon Turns Gold by Peachesandpears
@pearynice
Rating: Mature
15,539 words, 3/8 chapters
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Platonic Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Feels, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Trans Eddie Munson, Canon-Typical Violence, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Domestic Violence, shown through flashbacks- never between any of the ships, Season 4 re-write, Vecna’s curse, Nightmares, Recreational Drug Use, Eddie Munson Whump
Summary:
Having been forced to bear witness to his parent's toxic soulmate bond, Eddie Munson promises himself he will never fall in love. Promises himself he will never curse another with the touch that will bind his soul to theirs, promises himself to never let another do the same to him in return. But in the spring of 1986, when Chrissy Cunningham is murdered in front of him, breaking those exact promises may prove to be what saves him.
Thanks for the rec!
This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Soulmate AU.
Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!
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koolkat9 · 2 years
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Fruk Week 2022: Day 6
@aphfrukweek
Prompt: Magic / Sinful
Rating: T
Pairing: Fruk
Word Count: 543
Author’s Note: CW for religious themes, religious guilt, struggles between sexual identity and religious beliefs, and I think that covers everything. Let me know if you think something else should be tagged.
Love is...
“Do you think we really are damned to hell?”
They may have been sitting in a church, but the question threw Arthur off. “And why are you asking the heathen that?” Arthur shot back jokingly.
“I’m serious Angleterre. Even you know what they’re saying…What they’ve always said.”
Arthur searched the other’s eyes for some hint this was some joke, but he was only met with glassy cerulean. “You know I was never one for religion.”
Francis sniffed.
“But…” Arthur went on. He hated to see Francis upset. Sure he liked to see him enraged, eyes fiery and sword swinging, but this dejected, hollow display was terrifying. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. We don’t get to play by human rules, we’re not born like humans. I’m sure your God has a special place for us. After all, our will doesn’t work like humans either.”
“Do you really think that? That we don’t have free will?”
Arthur grimaced. “We’re but passive watchers in history occasionally forced to act by tyrannical bosses. Ships that are to be steered by our people. Wasn't that how you put it? But…We still choose the smaller things. Especially now.” Arthur placed a hand over Francis’s who was gripping the church pew tightly.
Francis’s eyes bore into the pew in front of them.
“And if your choice is to act upon your love gets you damned to hell, then your God is just as messed up as the rest of society.”
Francis remained silent, leaning forward slightly, hair falling into his face. He sniffled again. Pulling his hand away from Arthur he wiped his eyes.
Arthur sighed, slumping against the pew. He was never good with theology and thought religion was ridiculous and did more harm than good, but it was important to Francis. After a moment of thinking things over, something came to mind.
“Love is patient, love is kind,” Arthur murmured, “It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always hopes, always perseveres.”
“1 Corinthians 13:4-7,” Francis whispered. He laughed shortly. “And you say you’re a heathen.”
“According to God, love cannot be sinful.” Arthur pushed back a strand of Francis’s hair, finding a faint blush under it.
“Mhm…”
“Love is a wonderful thing, Francis. And very few find the genuine thing. Isn’t that what you always say?”
Francis let out an amused huff, finally meeting Arthur’s gaze again. “And here I thought you never listened to me.”
“Well maybe you say a few good things,” Arthur teased.
Francis slapped his chest, though he was giggling. Arthur felt a weight lift off his chest. In a fit of passion, he pulled his lover against him, holding him tightly.
Francis tensed at first before slowly leaning into the touch. “Thank you," he whispered against Arthur’s collarbone.
“Of course my love. Now, do you think you're ready to go home?”
Francis nodded, pulling away.
Arthur rose to his feet first, offering a hand to Francis. He gladly accepted, and the two headed home, hand and hand, lighter than before.
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