#i am so excited for soup yall have no idea

[tennybird]

dads will say "dinner is ready i made it special just for you" and then give you the driest burger you've ever had in your whole life

[sumsebien]

by design pt.2 // Prince Friedrich

series masterlist

summary: one room and two very confused individuals.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: none

a/n: don’t ask me how. i don’t know either :) (edited: i added another scene yall)

Friedrich stood awkwardly next to the coffee table, looking out the window while you sat on the couch all the way across the room from him. A queen-sized bed splitting the space into his side and yours that none of you were willing to cross.

“The weather-“ Friedrich began, taking a quick peek outside, “-is lovely, don’t you think?”

“It really is.” You were just going to say that.

It had been 15 minutes and that was the first thing you had said to each other after the doors were closed. Both of you were longing for lunch time to arrive for an escape, any escape from this tragic situation you felt developing.

“I-“

“I-“

“Oh, you were saying?” he asked.

“No, nothing. You?”

“I was just-I think I’ll head out for a minute. Check on where the rest of the luggage is.”

It was confirmed. He absolutely despised your guts. That was not his job. A Prince never had to check on anything. If he wanted to stay, there was nothing that could stop him. Not even some stupid luggage. He must be leaving because he didn’t want to stay in your company any longer.

“Oh, of course.”

Friedrich gave you a small smile, walking towards the door with the least amount of elegance anyone had ever seen. His legs didn’t even feel like they were even his. There went all of his posture and diplomatic training.

As the Prince, he was forced to sit in numerous lessons on the art of making conversation and had to put it into practice almost immediately at dinner with his father. At Cambridge, he spent three years studying international relations, different societies and their interactions.

But somehow, the weather was the first thing he talked about. It was such a poor attempt that he was absolutely certain you found him dull. Even he thought it was dull.

And the walk? He could not explain where that came from. He was a giraffe who suffered an identity crisis and had no awareness of its legs.

There was no way in hell he was going to make you suffer through this the entire day. He thought as he asked his guards to find Heinrich. He was going to fix this.

Lunch had passed and soon came time for dinner.

You sat and watched the plate of beans, stale bread and soup go cold. It wasn’t because you were a picky eater by any means or that you held some sort of contempt for people less fortunate than yourself. It was none of that. It was the voice inside your head, feeding you paranoia every second that passed.

He would probably walk than sit on the same train as you. Remember his face? And the small talk that he kept having to make? Probably did not think you were worth any real conversation.

You stood up abruptly and then sat down again, the skirt of your dress rustling with your movement. You huffed, staring out the window with no intention of admiring the landscape. You just needed something else to think about. But there was simply nothing other than this.

Just as you were about to call your maids in to clear away the food, you heard a knock on the door. Careful this time, you stood up and told whoever on the other side to come in.

It was Friedrich. You scanned his expression with caution, hesitantly. He wore a gleeful grin on his face, his eyes gleaming. The happiest you had seen him. But it was fleeting, quickly wiped off when he saw your face. Were you that terrible?

He took a glance at the neglected tray and then back up at you. “Was the food not good?”

“Oh, I just wasn’t hungry.”

“Your lady’s maids are just outside. Would you like anything? Fruits?”

You shook your head. Through the gap he left, you could see Lea and Ilse’s figures. You walked past him to the doors, calling them in.

Once they saw your face, they immediately rushed into the room, curtsied to the both of you and took the tray away. You just stood next to the door and gazed aimlessly at the floors. Friedrich who was impressed turned to you with a remark that completely missed you.

“Yes?” you asked again.

“Nevermind that,” he smiled, “I have found a solution!”

“What?”

“A solution to our problem,” he gestured between the two of you. A glimmer of hope flashed in front of your eyes, so close that if you had reached out your hand you would have caught it. Your heartbeat hastened, your fingers clenching around themselves.

“I have rented out a compartment for myself. It should work perfectly well! You can have this room!”

Whatever else he said blew away. You heard none of it.

You could still see perfectly clearly though. A smile plastered on his face, his lips moving so fast you could not make out what he was saying even if you tried. He seemed so cheerful, so satisfied with himself that he had dealt with this, with you.

You blinked at him, your arms going limp at your side. Were you so despisable? That he had to leave the entire day just to figure out how to get away from you?

But where is the surprise? Even your own parents struggled to love you. All your life you had to live everyday knowing you were undeserving. Undeserving of your father’s pride from the moment you came into the world a girl. Undeserving of your mother’s affection for not being foolish enough. And undeserving of your betrothal’s tolerance. Not likable enough. Not pretty enough. Not Daphne or even Cressida.

“Y/N?”

His voice brought you back. You quickly ducked your head, rubbing away the tears that were gathering at the rim of your eyes. “Yes. Thank you.”

He paused, tilting his head to try and match your faze. “Is something wrong? Did I offend you?”

You waved him off, turning the corners of your lips upward in a show of pretend. “Not at all.”

“You’re crying.”

You sniffed. “Allergies. I apologize.”

You opened the door, “I believe your compartment awaits you. I will be completely fine, I promise.”

He walked over to the door, prompting you to take a step back and clicked it shut before you. “No,” he said, “there is something wrong. It’s my fault, isn’t it? You can tell me. I won’t be offended.”

You walked away from him, your back to him. “There is nothing wrong. There is nothing else I can say.”

“Y/N. I know you don’t trust me. But we are to be husband and wife-“

You spun around, all of your control gone. “Then why won’t you treat me so?”

Friedrich stared at you, unblinking.

“I know I am not who you expected. I am not who anyone expected,” you laughed bitterly, flicking your eyes up towards the ceiling to blink back the tears. “That much I know very well.”

“Y/N-“

You stopped him with the shake of your head. “But you must know that it is not my choice either. You don’t want to be in the same room as me yet you won’t let me leave.” Your fingers had been gripping on the fabric of your skirt. So tightly that it hurt when you yanked them away, throwing them in the air. “What must I do then? Disappear?”

“Y/N. Why do you think I did that?”

You sighed in exasperation. “You despise me!”

When your lungs were gasping for breath was when you knew you were done. Your breaths became deeper, easing the burning in your lungs but not the burning you felt in your heart. You took your time to watch him, really observe. His lips were pressed into a line as he watched you with pained eyes. Your words had slashed him but you did not know that. You did not think he would care.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely louder than a summer breeze and calmer than a pond on a windless day. “I don’t despise you.”

“Y-you don’t...?”

He shook his head. “I got us separate rooms and I am giving you your space and your freedom because you clearly did not have in England.”

“I-“

“I didn’t have any freedom growing up either. People have a lot of input in my life. I know what it feels like to be an outsider in my own body, to want to run away and be myself. I may not have had it as bad as you but I still understand. And I am trying to give you your freedom.”

You stumbled onto the chair behind you and sat down. Friedrich sat across from you. The rounded coffee table was the only thing between you. He leaned against the arm, looking at you like he always did. But only now that you realized what exactly it was that he held in his gaze.

Sympathy.

“I am sorry if I made you feel like I despised you. Because that is not what I am trying to do.”

“No. I am sorry. I shouldn’t have lost control of myself like that. I obviously don’t know you enough to assume.”

An idea flashed in his eyes, he sat up, that excitement filling his blue eyes again. “How about we change that? I want to get to know you. And I will tell you whatever you want to know about me. Does that sound fair?”

“Fair.”

...

You were both painfully aware that there was only one bed. The both of you eyed it, wondering what you were supposed to do. It wasn’t as if any of you had any intention of doing anything other than talk. Right?

Well, you’d be lying if you said your mind wasn’t going somewhere else.

You didn’t know about him but you had been preparing yourself mentally for your wedding night ever since your mother gave you the talk. You just never thought that the first time you would share a bed with a man, your husband for that matter was to talk.

It was not that you were disappointed. You just did not know what to do. Somehow, this was more awkward than the ballet performance your father made you perform for his siblings and their children at Christmas. If there was ever a competition amongst the most humiliating instances in your life, that one would win, well, would have won.

“I will sit in the chair, you take the bed,” Friedrich decided.

It didn’t take a genius to see that the little wooden armchair was not going to be comfortable for him. Hell, you yourself had difficulty relaxing against the bumpy wooden backrest. He was essentially twice its height and had much more muscles than you. He simply would not fit.

“No, if anything, I’ll sit. It’ll be more comfortable for me.”

He quickly shut that idea down with the shake of the head. “No, I simply cannot allow that.”

“Why not?”

“Well for a start, I started this mess. You shouldn’t have to suffer the consequences-“

“I started it too!”

“You weren’t the one who placed a bet with my father, were you?”

“Bet?” What bet? He never told you about any bet?

Friedrich could see panic slowly rising in your eyes. He hadn’t meant to say it like that. It sounded as though this was all a game to him. You were probably thinking it was at that very moment.

“I,” he began, searching for the right words for a moment before he continued, “my father always wanted me to marry someone of his choice. It wasn’t ideal for me, I had had my freedom. I wasn’t going to give it all up. So I made a deal with him. If I ended up married at the end of the season, he would not be able to intervene.”

“But you weren’t married.”

He nodded.

Quietly gazing at the ground, you said nothing else and just sat down on the edge of the bed. Friedrich couldn’t see your eyes but he began to worry he had offended you.

Of course, he did. What was he thinking? He basically said marrying you was akin to being in a cell. He might as well have said that. What was the difference really?

Then, out of the blue, you apologized. An apology which felt wholly unnecessary. It sent him into a daze. “W-whatever are you apologizing for?” It was you who deserved an apology.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, looking up, “about Daphne and about your father. I’m not sure I could have pulled myself together as well as you did at our wedding if I were you.”

Wordlessly, he sat down next to you, the both of you staring straight ahead. He didn’t think he handled it well at all. He just showed up. But then he decided against saying anything lest he ruined the conversation again.

After a little while, you turned to him with a question. “You loved her, did you?”

If you had asked him that question a couple of days ago, before he met you, he would have said yes immediately. He was very certain that he loved Daphne Bridgerton. But now that you were in the mix, he had other feelings to compare whatever he felt with Daphne to.

With Daphne, there was attraction. A lot of it. Perhaps so much that it had temporarily blinded him. There was also the pressure of the bet. Once he found someone he felt like he could love, he made the leap.

But something was amiss. There was always a concern that they wouldn’t quite connect on a deeper level. He knew that if he were to be having this conversation with Daphne instead of you, he wouldn’t have shared so much about his relationship with his father.

Yet, with you, he just knew you would understand.

“Did you love Simon?”

You shook your head, your eyes on your hands. “No, I didn’t. Not in the way I wanted to. I barely knew him. My parents did though. They were pushing me towards him when you and Daphne began to court.”

“And if they had asked you to marry him, would you have?”

The corners of your lips curled up ever so slightly. “I don’t have any other choice.”

Ever since that day at the abbey, he had suspected that this arrangement was forced upon you as well. Having it confirmed by you, however, saddened him. For you, it was never a question of this or that. It was either you did as you were told or you suffered. At least, he had a shot. You never did.

“I have no say in anything. Not even with my own performance at family gatherings,” you added, swinging your legs back and forth gently. The small smile on your lips lightened the mood. It made him smile as well.

“Me neither. It was quite the embarrassment.”

“I once fell flat on my face at Christmas trying to perform a ballet.”

“You did?”

You nodded. “And then I laid there. Like a log of wood.”

“That is still not as embarrassing as the time I got an awful grade in arithmetic. And came lunch time, it was splattered all over the papers: ‘Prince Friedrich does not know how to count.’“

You tried to hold back a laugh. But you couldn’t, your entire body was shaking with laughter. As a last attempt to save some grace, your hand flew to cover your mouth. A habit you had formed over the years living with a strict mother. Well, you weren’t sure if there was any grace left but it certainly sounded less like a hyena and more like a hyena with a rope around its mouth.

Friedrich couldn’t care less though. Very quickly, he joined you, leaning forward with a chuckle.

You found yourself looking at him and thinking how nice his laugh sounded. It wasn’t obnoxiously loud like the ones that echoed all across the estate during one of your father’s dinner parties. It wasn’t too perfectly staged either. It was simply a delightful sound. A laugh anyone would be jealous of.

When the room returned to its familiar silence, his arms accidentally brushed yours. The unexpected graze was so brief that you didn’t think he even noticed. You, on the other hand, were very aware.

To mask your increasingly reddening cheeks and clammy hands, you opted to carry on with the conversation. “I guess gossip papers truly are everywhere.”

“For an appetite so voracious, it is only fair. At Buckingham, everyone reads Lady Whistledown.”

You paused, shaking your head to yourself. “You read Lady Whistledown?”

“I must admit it is quite entertaining when it is not your name on the front page. You read it too, right?”

“Of course!” you grinned,” I am not allowed to but I find my ways. Who could dare dream of missing out on London’s latest?”

“So what are you allowed to read?”

“Nothing. Which is why I read everything I can get my hands on.”

You then continued to recount your late night adventures sneaking into the library. You seemed so proud that he couldn’t help but smile and nod along.

There was also that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he learned more and more about your upbringing. You seemed to know that the nonsensical rules your parents imposed on you were unusual too. But somehow, you had learned to accept it as nothing more than a fact of life. You never spoke of them or referred to them with spite. Certainly not had the same sour taste that Friedrich had on his tongue everytime he spoke about his father.

The Duke and Duchess of Clarence were damn lucky to have you as their daughter. They certainly did not deserve it though. He thought bitterly.

...

You and Friedrich ended up in bed, talking all night.

By the time dawn was on the horizon, you had both finished recounting your childhood tales, leaving nothing behind. In the end, the two of you found in this complicated arrangement so much more than either of you could bargain for. A confidant.

“Who is to say the betrothed can't be good friends?” Friedrich said, leaning against the headboard as he looked up at the ceiling.

You laughed. “Not us apparently.”

“Would you be able to promise me something?” He turned his head to look at you.

If there was one thing Friedrich learned after hours of conversation, it was that you were the best friend he had never had. And he was not going to let that go. Not even for his own feelings.

“Yes?”

“That we will remain friends even if we can’t love each other like we should.”

You grinned, sticking out your pinky. “Promise.”

...

Dear sister,

Everything is in order. All that is left to be done is for my ‘Diamond of the season’ to produce a male heir....

Bernadine closed the letter and stuffed it in her trunk of clothes at the faintest sounds of footsteps echoing in the hallway outside. Putting on the sweetest smile, Bernadine made sure she was the first thing he saw coming into the room.

“Good evening, your Majesty. How was hunting?”

The King entered the room swiftly, slamming the doors behind it. She did not jump, immediately following him and helping him with his cloak.

“Didn’t catch anything,” he said, shaking off his muddy boots onto the floors. “The weather. Too gloomy and rainy. Scared off the deers.”

Bernadine hung the fur cloak up. While the King disappeared into the bathroom, she quickly closed the blinds, of course not missing the bright blue sky and the royal garden bathing in sunlight.

“Yes, the weather has been absolutely terrible these past few days.”

When he came out of the bathroom, she made sure to cling onto his side, steering him towards the desk. “Are you feeling better, my love?”

“Much. Made sure the train stayed right here before I left. Good luck travelling with the lower-class, son.”

The King began to cackle uncontrollably at that, even had to sit down at one point. And Bernadine made sure that he sat right before the stack of paperwork sent for him this morning.

“That is a genius idea!”

“I know it was. What is this?”

“This is everything that needed to be signed while you were gone.”

The King cleared his voice, taking his quill and began to scribble his name on every page. Even the one that had nothing to do there along with the more important national matters.

A contract.

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[be-gay-do-heists]

i am not immune to a good sickfic nor to eliot and hardison bonding time so here yall go....

---

Usually the only bugs Hardison had to be worried about were the ones he guarded his computer against, or more often was giving to the security systems the team came across. Sometimes he forgot he was also susceptible to bugs of a different sort. He hadn’t been this sick in a long time, he groused from where he lay in bed, covers half on and half off his body. It had been five days of being confined to his bedroom, five days of fever, fatigue, congestion, and boredom. Sophie had been kind enough to check on him every day and Parker was more than game to keep him occupied with stories of her past heists, but there was only so long Hardison could lay in bed without being able to do anything and not feel like he was going absolutely stir crazy. Short of a new job, game, or project, he needed something to delve into. Which is why seeing Eliot’s face in the open door was pretty new and exciting.

“Hey, uh,” the hitter started, and then cleared his throat. “Sophie took Parker out to cool down for a bit, so I’m on sick duty for a while. I, uh, made you some soup.” He awkwardly came into the room, putting the steaming bowl on the bedside table, and then, as if uncomfortable standing there, starting setting about straightening Hardison’s quilts and opening the windows. “You feeling any better? I came by earlier this week but you were pretty out of it, man.”

Hardison didn’t remember that at all, and was glad he had graduated to being conscious of his surroundings at least most of the time. He leaned over to sip a spoonful of soup even though he didn’t feel up to eating, because he knew Eliot had made it special; he appreciated that there was ample spice in it to register on his muted tastebuds. “Yeah I’m gettin’ there, it’s all cool,” he said, his stuffy voice sounding unconvincing even to his own ears. A coughing fit prevented him from saying more, and he panicked slightly not being able to get a proper breath in. Eliot swiftly moved to his side and thumped him on the back, once, twice, and Hardison gratefully managed a lungful of air.

“Yeah well, you still sound pretty sick to me,” Eliot grumbled. He turned slightly as if to leave, pausing. “Anything else you want before I let you get some sleep?”

“Whoa dude, don’t leave, please,” Hardison blurted out, trying to sit up and, failing, looking up at Eliot awkwardly. “I am so bored. You have no idea how bored I am. Just, hang out with me or something, man, we can even watch sports, I don’t care.”

Eliot crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, but genuinely seemed to be considering Hardison’s words. He turned back to the hacker. “You ever seen Ladyhawke?”

Hardison had heard of the movie, mostly concerning its cult status among medieval fantasy geeks, but had never watched it. “Nah, I haven’t.”

“Dude, it’s a classic, how can you not have watched it,” Eliot growled, grabbing the tv remote from beside him and lightly sitting down on the bed. It took a little searching and some help from Hardison, but eventually they found the movie and queued it up. Eliot scoffed at Hardison’s attempts to weakly sit up again.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Hardison muttered, frustrated at not being able to get a good angle to see the screen. He slumped, exhausted, against his pillow. He froze when he felt Eliot grasp his shoulder.

“Here,” Eliot said softly, and the hacker let himself be moved as the hitter sat him up and situated himself behind him, letting Hardison rest back against his chest. Hardison didn’t know what to think except that Eliot was very warm and took the edge off his chills.

His attention was diverted by the sound of synthesizers. “Oh hell no,” he moaned as the title sequence flashed over the screen, full of old special effects. “Holy shit, this has gotta be the most dated movie in existence.”

“Shut up, you’re gonna miss the exposition,” Eliot growled.

Hardison wished he had the energy to give the hitter his most unimpressed stare. “Let me guess, there’s gonna be a lady and she’s also a hawk.” He smirked at the wordless sound of warning Eliot made that he could feel against his back.

Despite his initial protest, the movie quickly grabbed his attention. The story was intriguing, and it was fun to see the ‘80s aesthetic, however much it made him cringe. But he gathered from the way Eliot was tensed behind him that the movie was important to the hitter in some way, and it was worth watching just for that.

By the time the full truth about Isabeau and Captain Navarre was revealed, Hardison was genuinely invested. “That’s… really sad actually,” he whispered, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Not being able to be with the one you love like that, not really apart but not really together either.” He wiped at his face, blaming his misty eyes on being so sick.

“Yeah,” said Eliot, equally transfixed, and when another fit of coughing seized Hardison his hand came up to rest on the hacker’s chest, thumb absently rubbing small, soothing circles.

They both startled when the door swung open and Parker did a running leap onto the bed, landing right on Hardison’s legs. “We’re back! What are you guys watching?”

Hardison winced under her shifting as she got comfortable, readjusting his position as well and catching a glimpse of Eliot’s uncomfortable expression out of the corner of his eye. “A good movie, wanna join?” he said diplomatically, not wanting either of them to leave. He couldn’t think of anything better for his recovery than the two of them keeping him company.

“Sure,” Parker hummed, laying back across Hardison’s legs and resting her head on Eliot’s knee. Hardison felt Eliot settle back against the headrest, and enjoyed the feeling of his people being there for him. And as the movie ended with the big romantic finish, Navarre and Isabeau reunited in a joy too strong for words, he held Parker and Eliot’s hands tighter than he ever had before.

[stressisakiller]

A Moment of Peace

Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU

(Hello Sunflower Part 12)

Summary: You finally get a day to rest after the craziness of the past week

Warnings: None really, fluff, like one cussword a little bit of spice

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Small Edit 3/18 Fluffy chapter yay!  Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future chapters! Thank yall for reading!’

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Between being kidnapped by Hydra and worrying about the trial, there hadn’t been much time in the last week for you to relax. So after the final trial and final decision of not guilty you felt like you were going to collapse. Everyone was happy to be back at the tower but you all decided that celebrating could wait. The week had worn down on everyone. Leaning on Bucky as you headed to his room, your legs felt like lead, and the moment that your head hit the pillow you were out. 

You were a little disoriented as you woke, it was dark in the room and outside, your eyes still felt heavy and there was a weight on your waist. Shifting to look to your left you found the weight to be your soulmate's arm flung over you as he slept, mouth open and small snores slipping out of his mouth. You couldn’t help but giggle at the image, in that moment it hit you that you are free. The government isn’t going to come after you and Hydra is in hiding again, at least for a little while. Allowing yourself to relax again you shuffle closer to Bucky, pausing when you feel him stir. He simply turns to his side and pulls you closer in his sleep resting his chin on top of your head as you bury your face into his chest. Breathing him in, you soak in the warmth of his chest and arm. Even with the super-soldier serum flowing through you, your body still runs a little cooler and you always enjoy the warmth that your space heater of a boyfriend gives off. You smile to yourself as you allow your body to drift back off to sleep.

The sun is the first thing you notice as your body slowly comes to consciousness. You must have slept all afternoon and night. Can’t say you're surprised, you hadn’t been this exhausted since you disobeyed and got a tattoo to cover your soul mate mark at eighteen. A soft kiss to your forehead pulls you out of your thoughts and causes your eyes to flutter open. The sight you are met with makes your heart melt, Bucky is leaning on his metal arm looking down at you with a soft smile gracing his lips. His flesh hand is tracing random patterns on the skin of your hip. You sleepily smile up at him.

“G’mornin’ love, wha’ time s’it? Your words are slurred with sleep, causing Bucky to smile a little wider

“9 am, the day is practically halfway gone.” he jokes, considering you normally end up waking up closer to 5:30 in the morning 9 is surprising.

“No shit? I can’t remember the last time I slept in this late.” you giggle at the noise that your tummy makes at that moment “‘M hungry.”

Bucky nods and goes to get dressed, at least enough for the communal kitchen as you stretch out across the bed, trying to release those last few knots in your body before getting up and putting on your baggy pj bottoms. 

You are surprised to see Tony cooking bacon and pancakes when you enter the kitchen. You walk up and give your brother a hug,

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he unsuccessfully tries hiding his smile as you raise your eyebrow at him, “and really, I’m only good at making a couple of things, breakfast being one of them.”

You give him a kiss on the cheek before you walk over to the coffee maker, pouring yourself a cup and making a fresh pot for the rest of the group. Sipping on the sweet nectar of life in your hands you hop onto the counter beside Tony, Bucky leaning on the island across from you. 

“So, it seems like you’re the only one having to pay a fine for your actions, bro.” you make it into a joke but watch his face closely for any sign that he feels uncomfortable.

“Yeah, I get it though, I am the one with the most money and the one with the most agency to do whatever I want. So, I can’t really blame them for being a least a little frustrated with me.” You smile at his words, you wouldn’t say that they were only a little frustrated, but you weren’t going to say that to him. You sit there with your two favorite boys as Tony finishes with breakfast, helping set the table when everything was almost ready.

“Hey Jarvis,” you call out.

“Yes miss Stark.” You roll your eyes at the formal ways he addresses you.

“Could you please let anyone that is awake that breakfast is ready?”

“Absolutely miss.”

You nod satisfied as you pull some orange juice from the fridge and syrup from the pantry. You can hear voices approaching as you place them on the table. Sam and Steve walk in first, followed quickly by Nat and Clint whispering to themselves as they approach the table. Bruce slowly walks in from the lab, clearly lost in thought.  Thor is currently off-world, per the usual. Conversation ceases as everyone stuffs their faces with the food in front of them, surprised comments at Tony making such a good breakfast are made and you could see the attention going to his head but you decided to allow it this one time. 

Finishing up the food on your plate you lean against Bucky on your right, watching the people around the table as they begin to joke with each other. A sense of calm overcomes you as you allow yourself to realize that the people around you have become more of a family to you than your so-called dad ever was. Bucky looks down at you, 

“You ok little sunflower?” you look up at him and smile,

“I have never been better, my star, I have my soulmate next to me and my family around me. And for the moment I have nothing to worry about except how I’m going to spend my day.”

His smile widens at your words, pulling you closer he nuzzles his nose against the shell of your ear, 

“I think I have an idea about how to spend the day.” His voice was deeper and raspier than normal, sending a shiver down your spine as you smack his arm.

“James Barnes!” you threw your hand over your heart in mock outrage, “you kiss your soulmate with that mouth?”

“I want to kiss her elsewhere right now.” He murmurs, you just roll your eyes at him, 

“At least let me finish breakfast first, yeesh.” Bucky laughed at your reaction, kissing your temple 

“We don’t have to right now but I wouldn’t say no to later today.” shaking your head at his antics you smiled up at him, as an idea popped in your head.

“Sounds good love. Hey, wanna go to the farmers market today? We haven’t gone in such a long time.” Bucky’s smile grew at your request, he couldn’t say no to you, especially when you looked at him with those big expectant eyes.

“Of course Sunflower, let’s have a day out.” 

After eating and getting dressed, and a couple of breathtaking kisses you both headed out for the day. Bucky insisted that you go back to the Farmers Market in Brooklyn so you piled onto the back of his motorcycle. The wind and sun on your face felt amazing as he weaved his way through the traffic, this, you think, is exactly what I was missing. 

Walking towards the market you noticed Bucky glancing at some barbers as you walked past. You decided quickly to find out exactly what he was thinking about.

“Thinking about getting a haircut, handsome?” you tried to keep your tone playful as you asked. Bucky looked at you, eyes swimming with a thousand emotions.

“I am but I don't think I’m quite ready today.”

You just nodded and looped your arm through his, leading him to the market

While looking at some of the vegetables on display you decided to make a big super for everyone that night. As shity as the man you called father was, he had taught you how to cook traditional Russian meals. Mainly so that he could feel more at home, but you didn’t want to think about that right now. Right now you wanted to make a meal for your family that you remembered from your childhood. 

You quickly told Bucky about your plan, dragging him around as you found all of the ingredients you would need for the food as well as stuff to make dessert. Luckily you were able to hold all of your groceries while on the motorcycle as Bucky drove you back to the tower after spending the majority of your day galivanting around Brooklyn. Pulling into the garage below the tower Bucky helped you take everything up to the communal kitchen so that you could get started. 

You put Bucky to work as you cooked, having him peel veggies and potatoes so that you could chop them up and put them into the pot for the Borscht, a Russian vegetable soup. Also making some Kartoshka, Russian cake pops, for dessert. It took about 3 hours for you to completely finish cooking everything but you hadn’t felt so at peace in a long time. Cooking and baking had always been your escape from everything that was happening around you while at Hydra. Of course, your sexist father hadn’t minded, he enjoyed having a good little daughter that knew her place to cook for him. His duality always surprised you, he wanted you to be a typical girl while also making you into a super-soldier. You wonder how fucked up his brain had really been before your bullet went through it.

The cool feeling of Bucky’s metal arm wrapping around your stomach pulled you back to the present. Leaning into his warmth you looked up at him with a soft smile.

“Hey, lovie could you help me set the table? I need to finish this and I’ll tell Friday to let everyone know that it is ready.” Bucky left a soft kiss on your head before nodding and heading to the cabinets to grab everything.

“Hey Jarvis, could you please let everyone know that I made dinner and it’s ready?” 

“Yes, miss” 

“Thanks J, and you know that you don’t need to call me miss?”

“Yes miss.” you rolled your eyes, who knew that AIs could be so sarcastic, leave it to Tony to create one that was.

Everyone filed in, looking confused yet excited about the food on the table and absolutely shocked at Bucky’s haircut. They quickly commented on how good he looked before looking to you to explain what they were about to eat. You explained that it was a  traditional Russian meal that you had been taught to make when you were younger. You didn’t miss the misty look in Nat’s eyes when she saw what you had made. She gave you a small smile when she noticed your eyes on her. You were proud to note that she had eaten three full bowls before leaning back stuffed.

 Everyone was overly full at the end of dinner, shuffling over to the living room to watch a movie. Lord of the Rings was put on the table and you, Bucky, and Steve all looked at each other confused, you had never heard of that movie before. Everyone else looked at you in shock,

“You haven’t seen this?” Tony asked incredulously, “I mean I know you didn’t have a normal life but even I’ve seen them and I was in a type of jail for half my life.”

“Sorry, Stark but random movies weren’t high on my priority list as I tried to escape Hydra and then worked on getting my soulmate free.” The sarcasm dripped from your voice as you raised your eyebrow at him.

Tony was right, of course, the movie was amazing, you were hooked and by the end of it you couldn’t wait till you would get to watch the rest of them. But by the looks of everyone else they were ready for bed, and you could feel your eyes getting a little heavy as the credits rolled. You slowly stood, stretching out for being curled up by Bucky for the last couple of hours. He followed you to his room, since your kidnapping incident you spent more nights there than not.

Stepping through the door you were surprised to be pushed against the wall, door slamming behind Bucky as he crowded against you. His lips were rough against yours as he trapped your arms above your head and leaned his whole body against you. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you at the feeling of him against you. Of course, he wouldn’t have forgotten your conversation and testing kisses from earlier. He pulled back panting slightly, breath fanning over your face,

“You looked so beautiful today, and then you made such amazing food that reminded me of the good things in my past. You are amazing and I feel incredibly lucky to have your mark on me.”

At his words, you couldn’t help but pull your arms from his grip and lift his shirt to kiss along his tattoo.

“You’re the one who looked distractingly good today and I’m the lucky one Buck. I don’t deserve you and your heart,” he growled at your words, not liking how self-deprecating you sounded. He lifted you easily and threw you on the bed, deciding that he would spend all night showing you exactly how much you deserve each other.

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