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themcuhasruinedme · 8 years ago

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I Still...

[Summary]: At what point you thought that Tony didn’t deserve you, you couldn’t recall. You just somehow always felt that he deserved someone better. The only problem was, was that Tony still cared about you even after you left him.

[Pairing]: Tony x reader (mentions of others)

[Warning]: angst, drinking

Tagging: @bovaria @marvel-ash @just-call-me-mrs-captain @dividedwecantfall @buckysmetallicstump @mellifluous-melodramas @avengerofyourheart @buckyslion @metalarmproblems @marvelingatthewonder @beccaanne814-blog @mcuimxgine @capsbuchanan @imagine-assembling-the-avengers @that-sokovian-bastard @hellomissmabel @abovethesmokestacks @maybe-mikala @violentlyfarts @hymnofthevalkyries @after-avenging-hours @buckys-shield @callamint @redgillan @candyrogers @tragicalchemist @marvelous-fvcks @professionally-crazed @thetalesofmooseandsquirrel @iwillbeinmynest @theassetseyeliner @lilasiannerd @aubzylynn @ourpeachskies @tatortot2701 @raegan-darling @nostalgic-uncertainty @marvelatthepeople

A/N: BSB gif was made by yours truly! Yep, another fic using the Backstreet Boys as inspiration… [x] It has some flashbacks that will be italicized and indented. This hurt to write just because I hate mixing Tony with angst (he deserves to be happy!) but this song just seemed to scream his name. Sorry for all the Tony feels! I will understand if you need a hug after this…

Tony poured another shot of vodka in his glass. It was yet another sleepless night. He glanced at his phone when it lit up, thinking it was a response from you but it wasn’t. Just another notification from his lab computer, updating him on his project progress. He noticed the time as the phone dimmed to black; 3:15 am.

These last six months have thrown Tony into a mess of restlessness, nightmares and non-stop work. He still couldn’t believe that after five months of dating, you just… left. It wasn’t like you didn’t love Tony, you certainly did, but you felt as though you could never love him the way he loved you and he deserved someone better.

You had tried leaving a few times before but you weren’t successful at these attempts. Apparently doing them during the day was a no-go, even if you tried to be discreet about it. Tony never understood what would make you want to leave and it would only make him frustrated on how he saw the relationship going, even though he loved you with all his heart.

When he would bring you back in your shared room, you would start crying immediately. “Why can’t you let me go, Tony? I don’t deserve you! You deserve someone that’s better than me. I’m just a nobody…” you’d cry out, as the tears came. Burying your face in your hands, you’d fall to the floor in a sobbing mess, making Tony run over to you and hold you tight in his arms.

“[Y/N], look at me,” he’d say as he gently would take your hands away from your face. “[Y/N], please look at me,” Tony would whisper. You slowly lifted your head and looked into his chocolate brown eyes. He brushed some of the hair out of your face and gently placed it behind your ear. “I love you, [Y/N]. There’s no one else I’d rather be with.”

Hearing those words only made you cry harder and bury yourself in his chest, while he held you tighter in his arms.

Tony stumbled off the stool and went to get another bottle of liquor. Pouring himself some brandy, he knocked it back hard, letting the amber liquid burn the back of his throat. He picked up the bottle and staggered back to his lab. Sitting down, he poured more in his glass and placed his head on his arms, letting his mind fill up with memories of you.

Your one month anniversary came and Tony made it extra special for you; breakfast in bed, taking you to see your favorite musical and having a quiet romantic dinner on the balcony of the Avengers Tower.

As you two looked over the city, taking in the breathtaking scene after dinner was done, Tony pulled out a velvet box. He handed it to you, gave you a kiss on your temple and whispered, “Happy anniversary, [Y/N].” You open it to find an absolutely stunning necklace, which made you gasp out loud.

It was a floating diamond solitaire pendant in platinum. Tears started to rise in your eyes as Tony took it out of the box and put it on you. You placed your fingers over it and went to say something but Tony’s lips found yours before you could talk.

Some time around 4:30 am, Steve was on his way to the bathroom and noticed that Tony was not in his room… again. He shook his head, knowing exactly where Tony would be. He immediately went to the lab and found Tony passed out. He gently picked him up and carried him to his room, placing him on the bed; the bed that Tony and you had once shared. Steve gently closed the door, leaving Tony to sleep off the hangover.

Tony woke up shortly after and rubbed his eyes, his head pounding from the late night drinking and sleeplessness. It took him a minute to notice that he was in his bedroom but didn’t need to question how he got there. He turned over, having his gaze fall on the side of the bed you slept on. He placed his hand on it and slowly clenched the comforter in his fist while tears slowly started to fall. Tony let go of the comforter and grabbed your pillow, slowly breathing in the fruity scent it still harbored from your shampoo and while hugging it tightly, he cried himself back to sleep.

He woke up sweating and screaming from another nightmare. It was always the same thing: Him searching for you and then there you are, in the distance. He starts running towards you and just as he’s about to reach out to grab you, the ground splits and he falls through the crack. Tony refused to think that this is something telling him that he’s just not meant to find you. He held on extra tight to your pillow and rocked back and forth on the bed, imagining he can still feel you like you’re right beside him wrapping your arms around him when he would wake up in a cold sweat from having a panic attack at night.

The team couldn’t stand seeing Tony like this but what could they do? There’s nothing you can do for a man who has fallen into a whirlpool of hurt and devastation. His life pretty much fell to shambles when you left. He had spent weeks looking for you, doing everything he could to find you.

Tony woke up one morning to find your side of the bed empty. He sat up, thinking that maybe you went to the bathroom but when he saw a note with the diamond necklace laying across it, he knew in his gut you were gone. He grabbed the note and read it:

“Tony, my love. I’m so sorry that you should wake up to find this, but I think it’s for the best. I know you love me Tony, but I just don’t think that I could ever return that kind of love to you. Don’t get me wrong, I do love you, but if you only knew the horrors of my past that I’ve kept hidden from you, you would question everything. I will never forget the day you found me, when I was feeling so down and you showed me such kindness. And how after that, we would meet each other at the same coffee shop, same time, every day. I will remember the times where we made each other laugh over stupid things. And I will never forget the feelings that I had when you asked me to be yours; I was happy but still utterly scared. I’m sorry that I couldn’t bring myself to love you more. I hope you forgive me. Love, [Y/N]”

Tony flew out of bed and ran downstairs, running past Steve and Clint in the kitchen. They looked at each other, questioning what they just saw and it wasn’t until they heard Tony scream your name that Steve ran to find him kneeling on the ground, crying. He brought Tony back in the Tower and poured him a drink. Steve asked him what happened and when Tony handed him the crumpled up note, his eyes widened.

Tony meandered his way out of his room sometime in the afternoon. Everyone knew not to bother him. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass, he then went into the lab and closed the door. He had FRIDAY play a video of the last time he was with you. Knocking back a shot and letting the liquid burn his throat, he watched you and him dance on the video. And even though the video was in black and white, he knew that you were wearing the emerald green dress that he picked out just for you. As the video kept playing, he yelled out and threw the shot glass at the wall, making glass shatter everywhere.

The next few days were spent with the team searching everywhere for you. Tony tried texting you, but you never responded. “[Y/N], where are you? I still care about you. Please, tell me where you are. I want to find you. I still need you. I just can’t let you go. Please, [Y/N]!”

After spending a week and a half searching with the team, they kinda gave up, knowing that it was pointless and that you didn’t want to be found but not Tony. Tony kept up his search. He tried texting a few more times as the weeks went by but no replies came back. Steve asked Tony one day how the progress was going.

“Still no word from her,” Tony said gloomily. “I need to keep searching.”

He walked out to his car and drove around for a couple hours, still searching for you. He pulled over and slammed his hands on the steering wheel. Tears starting to flow freely, he got out and yelled your name over and over. “Oh, god. What am I gonna do?” he cried out as he slid down the side of the car, face buried in his hands.

As the months kept going by, Tony pretty much gave up. He knew there was no hope in finding you. All he had left were the memories, the video and the necklace. He was stuck in that last moment with you where he would’ve never let you go. Because after all, he still cared about you.

#marvel imagine #avengers imagine #tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine

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abovethesmokestacks · 8 years ago

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With Love

Title: With Love

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Rating: General Audiences

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: None

Spoilers: None

A little Valentine’s Day fluff for you. This one was inspired by the heartfelt post @ourpeachskies made the other day. I asked for her permission to write a fic based on it, and she graciously said yes. Everyone deserves a little kindness, and this is my attempt at it.

This fic can also be found on AO3. It is not to be reposted without my express permission.

Bucky celebrates his last Valentine's Day in the field, stuck on a mission in bloody Czechoslovakia and sharing a tent with a snoring Jim Morita while Bucky himself curses his misfortune. His mind keeps drifting to that girl he went out with the night before he shipped out, Bonnie. He hardly remembers what she looks like anymore, his memory too clouded by the horrors he's seen, by the experiments he suffered. Turning over on the hard ground, Bucky swears that next year will be better. He'll be home, he'll give a proper Valentine's Day card for the girl he'll find, maybe splurge on some nice chocolates.

Or maybe-

He'll still be here, but maybe, just maybe they will all have a nice day off, flirt with the girls working the makeshift command office. Most will have their fellas in the field, some will have lost them. He'll have to make sure to sneak a note to them, just like he did in school. A folded piece of paper for the girls who weren't inundated in valentines and trinkets, tucked into their bags or jacket pockets when they didn't notice. It was nothing much, but he'd break out his nicest script, signing each card ”with love, a friend and admirer” and then smile when the recipients unfolded them and flushed such a pretty shade of pink. Everyone deserves a little attention, a little love.

As the months pass and the war continues with no end in sight, he resigns himself to another year following Steve and the Commandos into whatever danger HYDRA throws at them. Sometimes he thinks about the promise he made in Czechoslovakia, tucking away scraps of paper to use for the notes. He thinks about what to write on them, different compliments for the girls working at the base, signs his greeting in the air when Morita keeps him awake with his snoring. He will ask Steve if the Commandos can get a day off for Valentine's Day.

He never gets to voice his question. Of all the thoughts rushing through his head as the train shrinks from him, the last one he remembers before everything goes black is that one. He'll never get to ask Steve for Valentine's Day off. He'll never get to send those valentines.

He forgets celebration. Holidays are irrelevant. Non-critical for mission success. A successful mission is met only with debrief, check-up and back into cryo. Lather, rinse, repeat. But-

Sometimes.

Sometimes there is a stirring deep inside the Asset. February is a strange month. For a brief period of time during this month, the world goes strangely pink. He has learned not to ask questions, questions are met with counter measures; punishment, the crackling of electricity as he is reset and put into cryo. The Asset doesn't ask, but he wonders why his body fights to rebel against the rigor and discipline infused into him, why the colour pink and the shape of a non-anatomically correct heart creates a disconnect in the mind. He- There- Paper. He needs paper.

He doesn't know why.

His mission almost fails because he's so lost in the onslaught of thoughts that he is sure doesn't belong to him. It's a violent need that requires self-imposed disciplinary actions to die down. It is. Scary. The Asset almost longs for returning to base, for reset, for cryo, for waking up to a colour and a shape that does not upset him.

His second-first Valentine's happens two years after Steve finds him. Holidays are still strange to him. They aren't as unsettling as they once were, but it's like they're only concepts with no personal feelings attached to them even though he knows he has celebrated them. He has a host of Christmases, Thanksgivings, Fourth of Julys, Easters and other holidays in him, and now they're all gone. Each one marks a new thing he has to learn. How to respond, how to give, how to celebrate.

Steve takes him to buy Valentine's cards for the group, says it's tradition. Bucky tries to decline, the holiday celebrating love and affection still digging at memories that aren't there. There's... something ‒ a question? ‒ that tries to dig itself out of the damage, and it is putting him on edge. If Steve notices his unease, he doesn't comment on it but he hurries through his shopping, making smalltalk about how he'd thought about drawing something, and how Valentine's Day was the only holiday the girls in their class ever vied for his attention back when they were in school.

Back at the tower, Bucky can feel his heartrate slowly returning to baseline and he ducks into the gym while his friend goes up to sign the pink, frilly cards he bought. It's calming; changing into the workout gear in his locker, moving his body, the strain on his muscles and the sweat prickling at the nape of his neck. It allows him to unplug from the world for a while, to exist as a separate entity in a small pocket of time and space of his own making.

His t-shirt is drenched in sweat when he lands his final punch to the bag. It's been over an hour already, and Bucky heaves a sigh. He'll have to return upstairs, or Steve's gonna give him another mom-talk about hiding out. At least he can prolong the inevitable by showering in his apartment. Returning to his locker, Bucky freezes when he spots something poking out of one of the slats, something pink. The small hairs on his neck stand on end, his focus stretching, listening for intruders as he approaches his locker. It's an envelope, tucked into the ventilation slats just enough to keep from slipping inside. Someone's been here. Bucky snatches the envelope, quickly gathering his clothes and sprinting for the elevator.

There's no one in sight, and he can feel his breathing speed up. Tony's AI scans him and he requests to be taken to his floor.

”F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

”Yes, mr. Barnes?”

”When was the last time this elevator was used from this floor?”

”1.24 pm today. Miss Romanov and Mr. Lang completed training and left the gym. You arrived about two hours later.”

”Did someone-”

He never finishes his question as the elevator comes to a halt, the doors sliding open. Bucky immediately casts his eyes downward. Tony wasn't the only one who'd picked up a stray during the Accords shitshow. Somewhere in the middle of the worst headache ever, Steve had managed to find you. Or maybe you found them, Bucky wasn't sure. One minute he was trying to keep steady on his feet, the next he was trying to keep civil and not make an ass of himself stuffed into the backseat of a beat-up Volkswagen Beetle with a strange girl looking him over while Sam whistled obnoxiously from the passenger seat. Steve had needed a car. You had a car. But no matter how much he'd coaxed and pled, you refused to just up and give the car to him. Bucky had to admit it was pretty impressive. It turned out you were a nurse, and the way both Bucky and Sam had looked at the time had probably sealed the deal for you on not letting the car and the prospective passengers out of sight.

By the time they arrived in Leipzig, Bucky felt good as new and Sam had been seen to as well. You tried to convince them to let you come to the airport, saying they'd need a field medic. Sadly, that was where your powers of persuasion fell short. It was one thing to borrow your vehicle, but Steve would not drag you into a fight when you had no way of defending yourself. Bucky had been both pleased to see his friend put his foot down and sad that this was where your ways would part. You'd offered a deal; you'd stay in Leipzig, check into a hotel for the night. If they needed you, they could call, no questions asked.

No calls came, not immediately. Steve did make good on his promise, though not in the way you had expected. You'd returned to Berlin, gotten back to your life, had almost started to believe you had imagined a roadtrip with three Avengers when Steve had knocked on your door, five Avengers in tow, saying they needed a medic. Bucky could never understand how you'd not slammed the door in their faces, but you didn't. You quietly packed up and left with them.

”Hi, Bucky,” you greet him, stepping into the elevator.

After Tony and Steve had hugged it out, as Tony had put it, you'd decided to stay, adding to the medical team in the tower. It was hard for Bucky to believe you hadn't always been there, always greeting him and the others with a berating smile and hands on your hips when they straggled in a little worse for wear after a mission, ready to mend them with a soft but steady touch.

”Hi- Hello,” he stutters, giving you the briefest of glances before resuming looking at his shoes.

”What you got there?”

He's forced to look up again, following your line of sight to the envelope held tightly in his right hand.

”I... found it. Stuck in my locker.”

You give a warm smile, nodding towards it. ”Aren't you gonna open it?”

Smiling sheepishly in return, Bucky clears his throat, fumbling to push the index finger of his left hand under the flap to rip open the envelope. Inside is a plain white card, decorated with hearts made to look like balloons tied together with a neat little bow. Turning it over, he finds a neat, small script, the words shaking him to his core.

happy valentine's day

with love, from a mate and admirer

The thing underneath the surface, the something that has been bothering him, it's a question. Can you make sure we get Valentine's Day off, Steve? I'm not sayin' it's not important to win the war, but come on, punk, we deserve a break. It's images of much simpler cards with neat script and a text that is so familiar. It's memories of sharing the chocolates he got with his sister, of watching Steve draw almost feverishly for the girls in their class-

”Bucky? Bucky, are you okay?”

His head snaps up to find you looking at him, a worried expression marring your features. He holds up the card, showing you both sides and lingering on the text.

”I... I used to make these. Back when- Before. I used to make these for the girls that never got any. I used to sign them almost exactly like this.”

The line that has formed between your eyebrows smooths out, your mouth softening into a smile once again.

”That's... that was very nice of you.”

”Everyone needs a little love.” It's an echo from the past, his self surfacing and talking through him.

”They do. You know who it's from?”

Bucky shakes his head. He knows it's not Steve, he bought cards, this looks homemade. The elevator comes to a halt again, and you step out giving him a little wave before the doors slide close again. He simply nods his head before returning his attention to the card, thumbing it affectionately all the way to his apartment. It wasn't like he'd expected to get any valentines, no matter what Steve said about everyone getting something. Steve must have told someone about his card habit. They must have snuck in while he was training, not hearing them in his checked-out state, then taken the stairs up a couple of floors to avoid being detected by the elevator system.

He puts the card on his dresser, shedding his sweaty clothes to take a shower, hoping his thoughts might come together under the relaxing spray. It's not Steve, he knows that much. Tony and Clint are ruled out, too, as is Vision. The man's handwriting looks too neat, too measured, Bucky knows this because Tony insisted on giving him that damn-

that damn birthday card.

It had been Tony's idea of a joke. Bucky had been adamant that he didn't want to celebrate his birthday, and while there had been no party, he'd gotten a card. Tony had gone out and bought a birthday card that said It's not every day your young man turns 9! and ”subtly” improved it with a sharpie. On the backside, the team had all signed their names. He had a damn rosetta stone lying in one of his drawers.

Hurrying out of the shower, Bucky all but runs to the dresser, pulling out what he'd designated his crap-drawer; a place to put stuff that didn't belong anywhere else. Card in hand, he grabs the valentine and holds them side by side for comparison, eyes skidding between the two as he eliminated suspects.

Wait.

Not Steve.

Not Tony.

Not Clint.

Not Vision.

Not Wanda.

Not Scott.

Not Natasha.

None of the scrawls on the card matches the one on his valentine. Bucky gives a sigh, dropping the birthday card onto the dresser. He supposes Natasha could have pulled off a convincing fake handwriting, but she doesn't seem like the kind to sneak around and leave anonymous valentines. It has to be someone who knows him, at least in some capacity, who likes him well enough to leave him a valentine like this. Someone who isn't on the team, but whom he saw regularly-

Oh.

Well played.

”F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

”Yes, mr. Barnes?”

”I need some information...”

Twenty minutes later, Bucky finds himself walking down a corridor, stomach filled with butterflies. In his hands is a small scrap of paper, and he tries his best not to crumple it too much in his grasp, but his nerves has already gotten the best of him, denting the edges. Finally finding the right door, he takes a deep breath, hesitating before crouching down. He used to do this. It didn't feel like this back then, that much he is sure of. Biting his lip, he pushes the paper through the small crack, straining his ears to listen for steps. When none can be heard, he gets up, knocking gently on the door.

His heart thunders when he picks up the sound of soft footfall, hoping that his plan will work. A rustle as the piece of paper is picked up sends a surge of joy through him, quickly followed by a need to run away. Bucky forces himself to stand his ground, holding his breath as the door swings open.

”I thought you'd never figure it out.”

It's like being back in school, a smile tugging at the corners of Bucky's lips as he sees you, your cheeks pulled up in a sweet smile. His note, simple and crude in comparison to your valentine, is held delicately to your chest, and Bucky can't help the sense of elation in having his words so close to your heart.

”I'm old,” he offers, giving what he hopes is a offhand shrug of his shoulder. ”Takes me a while.”

A pealing giggle escapes you, and you bring up the note to look at it again. ”'S very pretty.”

It's not, really. He can't draw like Steve can, and his handwriting is not really the same, the flowing script he'd perfected is not as appealing anymore. It's nothing like your card, nothing like...

”Not as pretty as y-” Bucky has to bite his tongue not to get ahead of himself. ”Not as pretty as yours,” he amends, clasping his hands behind his back. ”You didn't have to.”

”Oh, Bucky...”

You hesitate for a moment before your hand comes up to gingerly stroke along his cheek, the touch both scalding and sweet. Affection, touches, it's a struggle for him, and he has been more likely to shy away from hugs and even casual handshakes than to reciprocate them, not realizing he's starved for them. After a lifetime of discipline and punishment, the simple gesture of a hand softly touching him has his eyes fluttering close, his breath leaving him. He realizes the only touch he's allowed himself to enjoy, to not flinch away from in the past two years has been yours, from the hasty examination in the Beetle to the scheduled check-ups that follows every mission.

”You're the one who said it,” you tell him sweetly, running your thumb along his jaw and standing up on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. ”Everyone needs a little love.”

It's his second-first Valentine's Day. It's his best one yet.

@loup-malin, @ursulaismymiddlename, @bakexprayxlove, @callamint, @mrshopkirk, @tatortot2701, @ceebeetumbles, @thetalesofmooseandsquirrel, @lenia1d, @andhiseyesweregreen, @basicallybucky, @thatgirlsar, @avengerofyourheart, @booksandshowsandmovies-ohmy, @themcuhasruinedme, @creideamhgradochas, @feepsmoothie, @nuvoleincielo, @wellfuckbuck, @mellifluous-melodramas, @sarahsassafras13, @bovaria, @sebbytrash, @ouatalways, @awaitingjudgementx, @thelastjedl, @4theluvofall, @just-another-fangirl777, @avengingnights, @softwhispers, @therealgingermermaid, @c-maximoffs, @ipaintmelodies, @reniescarlett, @mizzzpink, @winter-in-wakanda, @ourpeachskies, @lenavonschweetz, @beingpeculiarsince2001, @stephanie11220

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky x reader #marvel imagine #Bucky Barnes imagine #Valentine's Day fic #my fics #fic: With Love

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buckyywiththegoodhair · 8 years ago

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Knittingknerdy Soldatbarnes Marvel-lucy Emilyevanston Our peach skies ?!

@knittingknerdy - Not only does Nadine slay me with her writing, she amazes me with her knitting skills! This sweetheart sent a knitted Bucky my way and I smile every time I see him. So basically Nadine is the absolute best and if you’re in need of some fics to read, just check out her masterlist.

@soldatbarnes - Nikki. My beautiful queen. She’s either the Fox Mulder to my Dana Scully or the Dana Scully to my Fox Mulder. Or maybe she’s just the Dana Scully to my Dana Scully. Either way, the adoration I have for this cutie pie is out of this world and I am so grateful that I can fangirl about The X-Files with her. She’s also an amazing writer, so if you want to check out her writing, just click here.

@marvel-lucy - I’ve only talked to Lucy a few times, but let me tell you, that babe has a heart of gold. One of the best and brightest I’ve ever come across (and I am so thankful that I did!). And, just so y’all know, she also has a masterlist that is definitely worth checking out.

@emilyevanston - I can’t say that I’m familiar with Kate, but according to her bio, she’s a writer of smut which can be found here! She also has loads of Marvel, Chris Evans and Tom Hiddleston stuff which I very highly appreciate.

@ourpeachskies - Oh hell. What do I say about JinAh. If I told you everything I thought about this queen, we’d be here for a while. So long story short, I respect the hell out of her. I admire her. I adore her and I’m beyond happy that I get to call her my friend. Also, her writing is out of this world and can be found here (prepare yourself for the perfection that you’re about to read).

send me a tumblr user’s url and I’ll tell you what I think of them

#buckyywiththegoodhair answers #anon #buckyywiththegoodhair queues

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hellomissmabel · 8 years ago

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The blog compliments are finally here!!!

I am so tremendously sorry that it took me this long to finish them! I recently moved to the Netherlands and things have been so crazy!

@youandb: I feel so very privileged to know the woman behind this beautiful blog. She’s such a kind soul and if you have any common sense, you check out her blog @you-and-bucky. The reader is Bucky’s wife and has been by his side ever since they met back in the 40’ies. You experience their entire life, starting at day one and the writing is absolutely gorgeous. Honestly one of the best blogs out there.

@callamint: oh damn. Your blog. You post the best things, my love. <3

@james-bionic-barnes: fellow writer and lover of all things Marvel. I want to get to know you! Let’s obsess about Bucky together!

@romanovoff: super talented writer, one of the reigning queens of Marvel fan fiction. I love you. That’s it, I love you.

@themcuhasruinedme: I love, love, LOVE your blog header. And you’re such a beautiful girl! I recently saw a selfie or two that you took and I was like damn, you’re so pretty!

@mellifluous-melodramas: classy, such a classy blog. “Alea iacta est”, I admire you. And “Static” made my heartbeat race out of control. Your fics are so freaking great. High class smut.

@austinamelio: baddie witch indeed! One of the most creative people and her blog is so fancy, I am so jealous. Amazing writer! If you’re looking for another fabulous writer to follow, follow her.

@winterboobaer: the super awesome commenter that I don’t know but like to send all my love to. You are such a huge support and your comments are THE BEST, they’re like LIFE to me, the air to my lungs. THANK YOU SO FREAKING MUCH.

@mrshopkirk: my wonderful Belgian friend! I’ve arrived at the point that I am actually actively awaiting your comments. You’re such a fantastic person and I am so happy to have met you.

@hardcorehippos: we celebrated a followers milestone together and you’re such an excellent writer. I look forward to your fics all the time!!!

@the-silver-iris: I want to say something meaningful but I’m just going to send you a virtual hug because you’re such a lovely, lovely, LOVELY person. Let me love you!

@feelmyroarrrr: we don’t know one another but your blog is such a beautiful dedication to the Marvel fandom! Yes my friend, yesssssss! I like you very much ;)

@ourpeachskies: YOUR BLOG IS SO GORGEOUS MY FRIEND. I envy it. And I absolutely loved “Baby Stark”.

#marvel #blog compliments #i love all my followers #i love all of you so very #thank you for following me #really #i really mean it

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stormy-thomas · 8 years ago

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Tag Game

I was tagged by the beautiful @imthehoneyyourethebee😘

BOLD the statements that are true for you!

APPEARANCE:

I am 5′7″ or taller I wear glasses I have at least one tattoo I have at least one piercing I have blonde hair I have brown eyes I have short hair My abs are at least somewhat defined I have or have had braces There is something I would change about the way I look

PERSONALITY:

My Hogwarts house is: Gryffindor Hufflepuff Ravenclaw Slytherin I am an introvert I like meeting new people People tell me that I’m funny Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me I enjoy physical challenges I enjoy mental challenges I’m playfully rude with people I know well I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY:

I can sing well I can play an instrument I can do over 30 pushups without stopping I’m a fast runner I can draw well I have a good memory I’m good at doing math in my head I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES:

I enjoy playing sports I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else I’m in a orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else I have learned a new song in the past week I work out at least once a week I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months I have drawn something in the past month I enjoy writing Fandoms are my #1 passion I do or have done martial arts

EXPERIENCES:

I have had my first kiss I have had alcohol I have scored the winning goal in a sports game I have watched an entire season of a tv show in one sitting I have been at an overnight event I have been in a taxi I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year I have beaten a video game in one day I have visited another country I have been to one of my favourite band’s concerts

RELATIONSHIP:

I’m in a relationship I have a celebrity crush I have a crush on someone I know I have been in at least 3 relationships I have never been in a relationship I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them I get crushes easily I have had a crush on someone for over a year I have been in a relationship for at least a year I have had feelings for a friend

MY LIFE:

I have at least one person I consider a “best friend” I live close to my school My parents are still together I have at least one sibling I live inside the United States There is snow right now where I live I have hung out with a friend outside of school/work in the past month I have a smartphone I have at least 15 CDs I share my room with someone

RANDOM SHIT:

I have breakdanced I know a person named Jamie I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce I have dyed my hair I’m listening to one song on repeat right now I have punched someone in the past week I know someone who has gone to jail I have broken a bone I have eaten a waffle today I know what I want to do with my life I speak at least 2 languages fluently I have made a new friend in the past year

Tagging a handful of people off the top of my head (don’t feel obligated to if you don’t wanna do it though) but if I’ve missed you (sorry!) and you wanna do it, consider yourself tagged! @mellifluous-melodramas @genesis-of-a-warrior @ourpeachskies @sebbytrash @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvel-ash @imhereforbvcky

#here you go hun #it's like 4am so i did it really quickly sorry haha #tag games #tag game #imthehoneyyourethebee #friends

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viollettes · 8 years ago

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“A Wish for 100″

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Midnight strikes, officially marking Bucky’s 100th birthday. You surprise the super-soldier with a small treat and a gift that has potential to change everything.

ending the last few hours of the day by wishing a happy 100th to our sweet plum, bucky barnes!

A/N: i wrote this in 7 minutes (i timed myself, hurrah) so it’s an incoherent mess. i’ll probably delete this sometime next week xx

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Bucky leans against the headboard of his bed, bringing the covers closer to his body before crossing his arms against his chest. He watches as the second hand of the clock make its way around, hypnotically ticking away.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

In a few minutes, he'll be 100-years-old, and it baffles him that he's been on this planet for a century. He's outlived his parents, his contemporaries, and everything he considered to be home. His age isn't something he's too keen on, especially since he's spent over half of those "one hundred years of life" as a brainwashed weapon for a terrorist organization.

Birthdays are still a weird concept, and he prefers to not make a big deal out of them. He's requested his teammates to treat it like any other day, and he doesn't want any special attention. Lucky for him, the Avengers members with a flare for surprises and events are on a mission, and hopefully the rest of the team will oblige to his request.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

His breath hitches.

It's midnight.

There's a soft knock at the door, and before Bucky can make an effort to get out of bed, he hears the beeping of someone pressing the passcode into the digital code door lock. Bucky's muscles tense up as the door slowly opens, his eyes slightly squinting as the light from the hallways infiltrates his dark space.

"Bucky?" a voice whispers. "You awake?"

The super-soldier's body relaxes as he immediately recognizes the voice. “(Y/N), doll, come in," he says, his voice also a whisper to match her volume. He reaches over to turn on his drawer-side lamp, the bulb dimly illuminating the room. "When did you get back? I thought you guys were coming back in a few days."

"Things ended faster than expected, so we figured we might as well come back home." (Y/N) shuts the door behind her and pads towards the bed. Aside from her mint-green fuzzy socks, she's still clad in her stealth suit. The dim lighting doesn't hide how well the stealth suit fits her, hugging ever curve and line of her body, and the bright smile that dances on her lips.

How's she's still smiling at midnight after a grueling and physically-taxing mission is beyond him. (Y/N) may say it was a fast mission, but Bucky knows it ranks high on the difficulty scale. Had it been him on this mission, he probably would have shut down and growled at anyone who dared to speak to him.

As soon as (Y/N) sits on the edge of his bed, Bucky reaches out, his hands gently patting her shoulders and waist, and carefully gauges her reaction with every touch. He notes that she's sitting in an odd manner, her right arm slightly twisted behind her back. "Are you hurt? Is everything okay? Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm sorry I disrupted you this late."

"I wasn't sleeping. And why are we still whispering?"

(Y/N) giggles and shrugs. "I don't know," she continues, her voice now an exaggerated whisper. "Are you sure I didn't disrupt you?"

"Doll, I'm sure. Are you sure you're okay? I know you have a high pain tolerance, but please tell me if I can be of help."

"Bucky, I promise. It's nothing a hot bath and a few bandaids can't fix. And besides, I'm not here to talk about the mission. I'm here because..." (Y/N) pauses and pulls out a cupcake she's been hiding behind her back.

His metal arm rising to scratch the back of his head, Bucky bites his lower lip as his eyes cast downward. "Oh, (Y/N)..." he sighs as he takes in the chocolate cupcake. A candle in the shape of a star is nestled into the cake, and its sole flame dances dangerously on the wick.

"I know, I know. You didn't want anything, but Bucky..." (Y/N) reaches over, her fingers gently lifting his head up. Her eyes meet his, and her hand caresses his cheek gently, a move that causes Bucky's heart to race. "You can't possibly expect me to ignore my favorite person's birthday. And it's not just a birthday. It's your 100th birthday."

Bucky's body freezes at the sound of the number. "100" sounds foreign coming from (Y/N)'s lips, and a new weight starts to burden his shoulders. "How did you know?" he cautiously asks.

(Y/N) arches an eyebrow and squints at him in a faux-disapproving way. "I'm a little disappointed I had to Google your age. It's the big one-oh-oh, and I had to find out through the Internet?"

He knows she's joking, but guilt nonetheless floods his heart. "It's just a number, doll."

"Oh no, it's a milestone! And I know it's a little... weird," she hesitates, her eyes sparkling as he snorts at her choice of wording, "but I still think it's worth celebrating. I'm sorry I only got you this dinky cupcake. I wanted to get you this amazing cake from Flushing, but the mission kept me away, and all that's open right now are gas stations, and -"

"Doll? Hey, hey," Bucky interrupts her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "It's perfect, I love it. Hey, aren’t you gonna sing me happy birthday?"

The young heroine rolls her eyes but outstretches the chocolate cupcake in his direction before softly bursting into song. Bucky's heart blossoms as she smatters into giggle mid-song. He stifles the laughter bubbling up his throat as she forces herself to finish the song. "Make a wish!" (Y/N) finally exclaims as the birthday song comes to an end.

I hope one day I'll find the courage to tell you how utterly in love I am with you.

Bucky blows out the candle, which prompts (Y/N) to softly hoot and cheer. The super-soldier tries his best to suppress the stupid, goofy smile on his lips as he reaches over to take the cupcake. "Thank you for this. For everything." He grins as the beautiful girl in front of him smiles demurely.

"I'm sorry I don't have my gift ready. The mission isn't a valid excuse, since I've known about your birthday for a while. I-I.. I have no words. I'm sorry."

While Bucky maintains his neutral expression, it breaks his heart at how genuinely upset and apologetic she sounds. "Don't be. This," he shakes the cupcake, "was wonderful." He hesitates for a beat before continuing, "And you're wonderful. You’re enough."

"Oh stop it, you," (Y/N) coquettishly sighs, batting the air with her hand. She pulls her legs up onto the bed, the mattress shifting as she scoots her way closer to him. "What about this? Since you're ridiculously low-key about your birthday and don't want anything, I can grant you a wish as your gift."

"A wish?"

"A wish. I can bring your breakfast to your bed tomorrow, I can do your laundry, I can prank Sam for you... The possibilities are endless. But make it a good one! It has to be worthy of a wish made on a 100th birthday!”

"I know what I want," Bucky suddenly says, impulse speaking loudly over logic. His heart jackhammers as his brain finally comprehends what he's planning to do. It's as if his mind and heart are on two separate paths. He stares deeply into (Y/N)'s eyes, his blue irises smolderingly radiating. "And you don't need to do this for me if you don't want to."

(Y/N) simply shrugs and cocks her head to the left. "Try me."

"Kiss me."

A gasp escapes (Y/N) as soon as Bucky's bold statement leaves his lips, his husky voice laced with desire bringing chills up her spine. She blankly stares at the super-soldier, but her brain kicks into overdrive. "What?"

Gravity quickly settles in her stomach. What about their friendship? It took a good year for Bucky to get used to her presence in the tower and another three months for them to actually become close friends. If she willingly stepped across the invisible line, would things be able to go back to normal?

But it would be a lie if she denied there was a thrill of feminine satisfaction running through her. (Y/N) always thought Bucky was attractive -I mean, come on. The man has the thick, muscular body of a god and a sinfully handsome face- but pushed aside those feelings in the name of friendship and partnership on the battlefield. To know that a bonafide hottie like Bucky wants to kiss her did something to her core.

Bucky watches as her lips part in surprise, her tongue swiping at her lower lip as her eyes widen and latch onto his. He watches as the blank wariness in her eyes slowly gets replaced with desire. "(Y/N), as hard as it is for me to resist you, tell me if you’re don’t want to."

Taking her silence as permission to continue, he wraps his hands around his waist, pulling her snug against him as her legs automatically reposition themselves to straddle him. He skims ups flesh hand up her side until it gently cups the back of her head.

"(Y/N)?" His thumb glides over her cheekbone.

"Bucky." (Y/N) can hear her heart pound viciously in her rib cage as she takes in his blue eyes that hold a mixture of heat and tenderness.

How did they get from blowing out a candle on a cupcake to here?

"May I?" he whispers.

"... Yes."

Bucky closes the distance between them, and (Y/N)'s eyes flutter shut as soon as his lips touches hers. The kiss is soft and gentle, and she can feel her toes curl. Without any thought, she winds her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to his body.

And that's when the game changes.

The teasing and soft kiss transforms into something hungry and possessive. Her lips part underneath his, and he deepens the kiss further. His tongue and mouth work wonders as they do the most sinfully wicked things to her. Bucky kisses her without showing restraint, and much to his inner delight, she responds with just as much abandon.

It's only a matter of time when oxygen becomes a pressing need, and the two break apart. The moment of passion comes to an end with a gradual decrescendo, his heaving chest settling into a calmer rhythm while her body shrugs off the trembling highs from the adrenaline of his kiss.

Silence takes over the room once more as the two Avengers bask in each other's presence and confusion. Something in their friendship has shifted, and while both are unsure of exactly what has shifted, the change is undeniable. The threshold has been crossed, and they’re now in unfamiliar territory.

Questions flood Bucky's mind, and he stares at (Y/N)'s face as if it holds the answer key. Did he do the wrong thing? Should he have suppressed his inner desires? What happens next? Did he just ruin the friendship?

But before Bucky can say anything, (Y/N) suddenly places her hands on the sides of Bucky's face and gently presses her lips against his forehead. "Happy birthday, Sergeant Barnes," she whispers.

Oh. An answer?

(Y/N) pushes herself off the bed. She strolls over to his couch and picks up the soft, gray sweater he haphazardly tossed earlier this morning. Without a word, she tucks the sweater under her arm and makes her way towards his private bathroom. Right before she shuts the door, (Y/N) sends him a sexy wink.

Bucky leans back against his headboard again, a content smile perched on his lips as he watches the clock again. The second hand diligently ticks away while the minute hand takes a slower approach.

It's been a few minutes since he turned 100, and so far... Well, he has a feeling "100" just might be his year.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

#happy birthday bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky one shot #ourpeachskies #ourpeachskies writes

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viollettes · 8 years ago

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“Two Weeks”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: A narrative that explores how Steve copes after your tragic death.

notes: implied character death (reader), a failed attempt at writing sad things

A/N: thank you to @buckyywiththegoodhair for beta-reading this mess. i adore you, and god rest this old bitch’s soul.

One week has passed since you left New York for a month-long guest curatorship in Germany. Before leaving, you kissed Steve goodbye and promised to return in one piece.

One week has passed since HYDRA agents infiltrated the museum. They put the entire museum on lockdown, claiming it had World War II documents that were essential to the HYDRA agenda. Even the Avengers wouldn't stop their mission to obtain these documents, they declared.

One week has passed since a certain HYDRA agent recognized your face from a tabloid, the headline screaming “Captain America Finally Finds Love!” He also deduced your title as one of the United States' leading experts on Nazi Germany. It was the perfect coincidence.

One week has passed since HYDRA attempted to use you as a bargaining tool. "Give up the documents, and we'll let you go back to your precious boyfriend," they said. Much to their surprise, behind your simple dress and ballet flats was a woman not afraid to kick men in the balls, both figuratively and literally. You proceeded to do the latter.

One week has passed since the Avengers compromised the guards and rescued most of the hostages at the museum. Only one remained, but when it became clear that they're wouldn’t gain access to any of the documents, HYDRA decided to inflict pain in the best way they knew how - by taking away the remaining innocent life.

One week has passed since your tragic death. One week has passed since Steve Rogers buried the love of his life.

Everyone is shocked at how well Steve is dealing with the tragedy. Though he's a bit quieter, he seems to be his usual, collected self. He insists that he's fine and carries on with his daily routine. It's odd, especially because the super soldier is well-known for wearing his heart on his sleeve. Even Bucky is confused by his best friend's calm demeanor.

"Should we force it out of him? Blast some Metallica and have him exert his true feelings onto a punching bag? Tony, you installed the new speakers in the gym, right?"

"I did, but that’s a bad idea. Cap's already ruined about ten punching bags, and I haven't upgraded the punching bag hook yet."

"But what he really is fine? What if he’s really okay?"

"The man just lost his girlfriend, the woman he was and probably still is infatuatedly in love with. There's no way he's fine. He's repressing his emotions," Sam theorizes.

Natasha tilts her wine glass in Sam's direction. "I agree. This whole," she pauses and gestures as she tries to come up with an accurate term, "charade is out of character for him."

Clint clears his throat. "No one really knows what's on Cap's mind so -"

"Actually -"

Firmly shaking her head, Wanda holds up her finger and silences Tony. "No, I said I'm not digging into people's minds unless it's for the greater good," the Sokovian says, a slight ice lacing her gentle tone. She proudly smiles while Tony holds up his hands in both understanding and mock surrender.

"Let's just be there for him. Tony, I know this is an impossible request, but please refrain from being an asshole," Clint warns.

Over the course of the week, the Avengers do exactly that. Even though both of them are clueless about art, Sam and Bucky buy year-long passes and offer to take him to the exhibits. Wanda fills the pantry with the tasteless, healthy snacks that no one but Steve likes while Vision has the blonde's coffee ready every morning. Bruce leaves vitamin supplements specially created for Steve's serum-enhanced body at his door. Nat and Clint offer to accompany Steve on his ridiculously early runs - something the two assassins refused to do in the past. Even Tony is on his best behavior, biting down on the witty remarks that have potential to trigger.

But Steve continues to insist that he's fine. He claps a hand on the respective Avenger's shoulder and gives a gentle squeeze before returning to whatever he was doing.

Friday rolls by. Two weeks have passed since your death.

"Cap, um... I hate to be the bearer of bad news..."

Sam uncomfortably shifts his weight from one foot to the other, bearing the posture of someone who has to deactivate a ticking bomb. Steve looks up from the mission reports. "It's fine, Sam. Just say it," he encourages.

"Erm, (Y/N)'s former landlord called. She needs us to clean and sort out the apartment."

The light in Steve's eyes slightly dims as he takes in this information. This is the first time anyone's said your name out loud since the funeral, and it sounds a little foreign coming from Sam's mouth. But something pangs in Steve's heart, and all of a sudden his chest starts to hurt. He forces himself to smile and says, "I'll head over there later tonight. Thanks, Sam."

"Hey," Sam murmurs, waiting until Steve looks up from the mission report again. "If you want, a few of us could go with you and help."

Hesitation lines the super soldier's eyes, but he slowly nods. "Okay. I'd appreciate that."

The chest pains grow in intensity when Steve steps into the small one-bedroom apartment, and a shiver runs up his spine as he takes in the place you called a second home. Memories float around everywhere, haunting almost every piece furniture or decor.

The kitchen island rings of lazy Sunday mornings. You always hopped into the island while Steve made breakfast. Standing in between your legs, your arms winding around his neck, he could never resist planting sweet kisses all over your face. The pancake batter would be long forgotten as the kisses turned hot and frantic.

The baby succulents lined up on the window frame speaks of trips to the farmer's markets. Knowing you were notorious for being an unintentional plant killer, Steve made a point of gifting you with plants you couldn't kill.

The couch holds memories of embraces. Whether they were sinfully infused with desire or meant to seek comfort, Steve loved to hug you, claiming that your hugs had the power to placate him and bring peace like nothing else could.

Bucky taps Steve's shoulder, bringing the blonde back to reality. For the second time today, Steve forces a smile onto his face. "I'm going to clean her room. Do you guys mind doing the living room and kitchen for now?"

"Go, we got this."

Your room is a treasure cove filled with knick knacks and books, but the first thing that comes into Steve's line of sight is your beloved vintage film camera. You had a knack for film photography, and he was your favorite subject.

Steve walks over to your desk, two photos neatly placed on top of a thick textbook capturing his attention. He carefully holds up the photos by the edges - a habit you've instilled in him.

The first photo was taken the day the city flooded the streets to celebrate the victorious return of the Avengers. Still clad in his stealth suit, Steve is rushing towards the viewfinder, happiness etched on his face. A number of people are reaching out to congratulate him, but Steve only has eyes for the camera. Well, the person behind the camera, that is.

Steve flips the photo over, a soft snort of laughter huffing out of his nose. In addition to the date, you'd written out the second stanza of Walt Whitman's "O Captain! My Captain."

O Captain! My Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up -for you the flag is flung- for you the bugle trills; For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths -for you the shores a-crowding;

The second photo is less hectic. It's a candid of him leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed against his chest. He's looking off into space with remnants of laughter on his lips.

The blonde flips the second photo over to read what you've written as the description. It's one word, but it's powerful enough to make his heart crumble.

Home.

"This wasn't too bad... I guess it helped that she was a neat minimalist."

"True. Natasha, everything good with Stark?"

"Mmhmm. He's arranged for people to pick up the boxes and donate them to schools, women's shelters, the Salvation Army, the museum, library... A lot of people will benefit from her things."

"Classic (Y/N). Always helping others."

Scanning the rest of the now-empty living room and kitchen, Natasha lets out a satisfied nod. "Okay, we should check in on Steve and see how he's doing with the bedroom."

Bucky pushes himself off the ground and tosses Sam the roll of duct tape he was using. "I'll do it. Finish this box up for me?"

The brunette wanders down the short hallway of the apartment and gently knocks on the closed door, but Steve doesn't answer. Bucky pushes open the door and he opens his mouth to speak, but the view in front of him immediately halts his steps and words.

Steve sits on your bed, silently sobbing and clutching your favorite sweater to his chest. His chest heaves up and down, his silent sobs turning from violently loud. Inhuman wails come from deep within his soul. The dam inside him has finally burst open, and every emotion he swiftly blockaded in the back of his heart spills out with fury. Each gasp claws through his throat and sends him deeper into a storm of loss and grief.

Two weeks have passed since your death, and Steve Rogers is finally unleashing his pent-up emotions.

His heart and head kaleidoscopes with memories both good and bad. The time he returned his old Cap uniform, only to be stunned into awe while you berated him for stealing from the museum. Your smile that sang of sunshine and spice and easily became his favorite thing about the twenty-first century. How his blood ran cold at the sound of a gunshot, only growing colder when finding your lifeless body a few minutes later. The heavens mourning through rain on the day he put you to rest.

It hits him that you wouldn’t be able to fulfill your promise of returning to him. No more kisses on the kitchen island, no more trips to the farmer's market, no more warm cuddles on the couch. All remnants of you are being packed away in boxes and given to other people. All that will remain of you are intangible memories and the love he had for you in his heart.

Two weeks have passed since your death, and all Steve can do is cry his heart out for the one who was unjustly and tragically whisked away from him.

#steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve x reader #steve x you #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #captain america x you #captain america fanfic #captain america x oc #ourpeachskies #ourpeachskies writes

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viollettes · 8 years ago

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“Baby Stark”

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Summary: After returning to New York, Tony is greeted with surprising news that has potential to change his life.

A/N: another one from draft-purgatory. lol i’ve never written for tony stark, and i i struggle to capture his swaggering tone. however, but i thought it would be fun to write for a slightly softer tony stark.

His elbows resting on the metal railing surrounding the large helicopter landing pad, Tony Stark skims his eyes over the beautiful aerial view of Manhattan. A relaxed smile perks onto his lips as the familiar clamor of the concrete jungle sinks in. "It's good to be back," he hums to himself, taking in the majestic view carved around the Avengers Tower.

After rapping his knuckles against the metal railing, Tony saunters down the glass walkway leading into the tower, the eery silence reminding him that everyone is on a mission. He's about to greet F.R.I.D.A.Y. when a smile enters his view, one that he isn't expecting.

She sits on the counter of the bar, her legs elegantly crossed despite the restrictive nature of her pencil skirt. The sunlight streams into the room through the glass windows, creating a natural glow about her. A coy smile perks onto her lips as Tony's drinks her in, his lower lip getting caught between his teeth as his eyes dance up her legs and body. She's the most alluring girl he'd ever seen -he'd thought so two years ago when they first met, and he still thinks so now- and it's one of the many reasons why he's infatuated with her.

"I thought I told you not to wait for me," He grins, glad that she ignored his request.

"I couldn't wait until dinner, and I wanted to be here when you arrived. Is that such a crime?" (Y/N) hops off the counter and saunters towards him. She cups his cheek in a way that makes Tony feel like he's the only person in the world.

"Well, counselor, I recommend -" His words are cut off as (Y/N) yanks the lapels of his jacket to bring his face towards her for a kiss. Tony laughs against her lips, but the laugh quickly gets drowned out by a rough growl as she lightly bites his lower lip. A smile creeps in around the edges of her kiss as she slides her hands down his muscular back. A nip of teeth, a glide of tongue, and she easily has him under her spell.

It's only a matter of time when the need for oxygen brings the kiss to an end. Tony gently knocks his forehead against (Y/N)'s. "Remind me to always bring up a counterargument, because baby, I could get used to that," he drawls.

(Y/N) laughs, a devilish glint lighting up her eyes. "Welcome back to New York, Mr. Stark. It's been a while." Her hand dangerously inch south as she brings his ear to her lips. "That was a little preview of what's going to happen tonight."

He feigns exasperation as (Y/N) playfully smacks his ass but twirls out of his arms before he can do anything. A low noise escapes his throat as she shoots him a sexy smile over her shoulder while kicking off her "ball-busting stilettos", as she calls them.

Tony leans against the wall and watches (Y/N)'s shadow dance in the glow of the sun. Two years into the relationship, and he still gets butterflies. His fun, beautiful girlfriend, the skyline of the most magical city in America, wonderful weather - his life is perfect and Tony wishes it would stay this way for a long time.

"As much as I love pencil skirts, I need to change," (Y/N) announces. "I have workout pants in my bag, but could I borrow a shirt or sweater?"

"Baby, at this point, you've stolen over half of my comfortable clothes. Why do you even bother asking?"

(Y/N) smirks and plants a kiss on his cheek before sashaying towards the door of Tony's private apartment. Before she opens the door, she turns to him. “T, I have something to tell you."

"Mmhmm," Tony hums, pulling out his phone from his pocket.

"I probably should have told you, but I was kind of scared of how you would react. I thought it would be wise to tell you when you were back in New York." She hesitates for a bit, her fingertips drumming against the doorframe. "Promise not to freak?" she asks, a slightly icy look glazing her eyes.

A small alarm rings in his head, but Tony maintains a calm expression. "I promise. Did you max out my credit card?" he jokes.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes but relaxes a bit, which pleases Tony. "No, and I never will."

"My wallet thanks you, baby. But what’s up?"

"Tony." She swallows. "How do you feel about becoming a dad?"

Something explodes in Tony's head, and he begins to feel a bit woozy. He rapidly blinks as his brain starts to panic, sending waves of panic and fear rushing down his body.

"I -"

(Y/N) holds up an index finger. "Hold on, let me change out of this skirt and blouse. Ugh, I wasn't made for clothes like this. I'll be back!" she sings. One smile later, she slinks into the private apartment.

A shaky breath rushes out of him as Tony staggers onto the couch. "Fuck me," he whispers, running his hands in his hair.

What does this mean for the future? How am I supposed to do Avengers things and also be a dad? Can the Avengers even stay in the tower now, especially since the baby is going to cry nonstop? No, the tower is soundproof, so that will be fine... But still, wouldn't it be awkward? I can't run team meetings while taking care of a baby!

And (Y/N)... She'll never let me touch her again. We're going to argue all the time about who needs to wake up in the middle of the night to shush the baby - wait, can I still call her baby? Would that be weird considering that we have a real baby?

Hold up, Stark. This isn't about you. Calm yourself. You first need to see where (Y/N) is and how she's feeling. Make sure she's doing okay.

Oh God, what have I done? We've been so careful, but... Her career, she's worked so hard to make it to her current position. I mean, things are a bit better, and her employer better not discriminate because she's pregnant, but still she’s going to have to make some big decisions.

And this age difference between us. Now she's stuck with me through the obligation of a child. What if she doesn't want to be with me in the future, and - God, I've fucked up her life.

No, think how I can support her. If I were (Y/N), what would I need and want to hear? How can I be a stronghold?

Okay, Stark. Remember - this is not about you.

"T, how are you feeling?"

Tony's head snaps up. (Y/N) steps back into the glass walkway, her blouse and skirt replaced by yoga pants and his old, red long-sleeved MIT shirt. "Hi bab - erm, love," he smiles, praying that he's squeezed out a calm and comforting smile. He pushes himself off the couch, ignoring the slight quaking in his knees. "I'm okay, but more importantly, how are you feeling?"

(Y/N) beams and claps her hands. "I know we haven't really talked about it, but I think it'll be good for our relationship in moving forward." She turns the doorknob. "I'm very excited, I've always wanted -"

The unmistakable sound of a dog bark comes from the private apartment. His brow crinkled, he rubs his hands against his face. "A dog?"

(Y/N) sheepishly opens the door, and out runs a gray pitbull. Tony's knees give out, and he sinks back onto the couch. A gong-like sound pounds his head as the dog jumps onto its lap. It stares into Tony's eyes with a soulful look, its tail resembling a metronome set for the fastest tempo.

"Isn't he cute?!"

"Holy... (Y/N), baby." Tony rubs his eyes and shakes his head. "I-I..." His words falter him as the dog starts to lick his hand. He sits dumbfounded as his heartbeat continues to skip erratically.

"I adopted him from the shelter a few days ago. His previous owner abandoned him three years ago, and he's been in the shelter ever since. I couldn't just leave him there." (Y/N)'s hands flutter around, a habit that indicated she was worried.

"Oh God. Right. What's his name?" he asks, scratching the pitbull behind its ears. A smile reluctantly grows on his lips as the dog nuzzles its head into his hands.

"Bucky."

Tony stares at (Y/N) with a deadpan look. "You're kidding me, right? We're not naming him after the Tin Man.”

"But look at him. He has the same soulful eyes that Bucky has," (Y/N) points out. "You look at both of them, and you just want to protect them and hug them and -" She pauses with a chuckle, holding her hands up in mock surrender as Tony shoots her with an icy death glare. "I'm kidding, T. He already has a name."

He runs his fingers over the dog's soft fur around the neck and checks out the collar. "Maverick?"

"Mmhmm. Maverick, go get your toy!" As Maverick the dog runs back into the private apartment, (Y/N) climbs onto Tony's lap. "Hey, T?" She fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt, stares deeply into his eyes. "I freaked you out earlier, didn't I?"

"Hm, what?" Tony pretends to play dumb, which is stupid on his part.

"I'm not pregnant, but what's really on your mind, babe? Are you okay?"

Guilt starts to seep through his bones, and Tony tries to figure out the best way to explain his thoughts without offending her. "I’d want to say that I was completely fine, but you’d easily call bullshit. Unfortunately my witty ability to tell a smooth lie doesn’t work with you.”

"It's okay to be scared. I kind of worded it weirdly," she assures, patting his chest.

"But babe, as selfish as my initial thoughts were, I would have been supportive, and I will be supportive in the future. I just felt so horrible, because I thought I was ruining your life because I -"

(Y/N) frowns, tightly grabbing his arm. "Why would you ruin my life? I-”

Tony cups her cheeks with his hands, bringing her face closer to his. "Baby, I’m a genius, billionaire, former-playboy, and philanthropist who pretty much saves America on the regular, but I have insecurities too." His speaking pace starts to quicken as he rambles, "You're perfect - young, beautiful, and on the cusp of becoming a senior executive at your company. I was worried that this would change everything and -"

"Okay okay, Tony, let's take a deep breath." (Y/N) moves her hands in an upward and downward motion, instructing him to breathe. "Being scared is normal, and I probably would have reacted very similarly had it been me. Also, I'm very happy with my life right now. I'm paying off my student loans, I have a kickass job, I’m dating a hell of a man, and now I have a new dog!

I don’t think we’re ready for kids right now. But I assure you when it happens, I'll be thrilled about Baby Stark. In fact I’ve thought about it. It’ll be you, me, Maverick, and Baby Stark. And because you’re such a genius, I’m confident you’ll figure out a way to be both a wonderful father and superhero. But T, unless you throw away the Louboutins I spent a year saving up for or give away Maverick, you can never ruin my life.”

Tony arches his eyebrow with curiosity, amusement slowly replacing the anxiety. "Baby Stark? You’ve thought about having my kids?" He chuckles and presses a kiss to her cheek. "You really do love me, don't you?"

"Yeah, it kind of sucks, but what can I do," (Y/N) dramatically sighs. A laugh bubbles up her throat and she hops off his lap."I'm going to get Maverick's leash. It’s time for his walk."

Maverick then runs out of the private apartment as if he's been waiting for his cue. He jumps onto the couch and settles himself onto Tony's lap. Tony rolls his eyes and feigns annoyance, his heart blooming as his girlfriend bursts into another round of laughter.

Scratching the pitbull's head, Tony watches (Y/N) saunter back into the private apartment. A genuine smile perks onto his lips and a content sigh escapes his lips. Tony brings the dog into a semi-hug. "And that, Maverick, is the mother of my future children. Baby Stark is going to be a very lucky child whenever he or she enters the world.

But until then,” Tony pauses to kiss the dog’s nose, “you’re the Baby Stark of the household. I guess you can call me ‘Dad.’ Actually no, don’t do that. It’s weird. Oh God, am I really talking to a dog right now? Is this what Barton is like?”

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony x reader #tony stark one shot #tony x you #tony stark imagine #tony stark oneshot #tony stark fanfic #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fic #marvel imagine #marvel fic #tony stark x oc #ourpeachskies #ourpeachskies writes

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viollettes · 8 years ago

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“Chemistry”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (College AU)

Summary: In which Bucky attempts to use chemistry to explain the chemistry between you and him.

soundtrack: “Unholy War” (Jacob Banks)

A/N: any chem talk was me attempting to remember things from chem class in senior secondary school. forgive me if i made any mistakes! -j. x

“Are you annoyed?”

“… Oh, I don’t know, Bucky, what do you think? What do you think my problem is?”

“Um, it’s a Friday night and you’re here in the lab instead of somewhere else?”

Your problem isn’t the fact that you’re stuck in a lab on a Friday night. You’re annoyed because for some reason, Bucky Barnes has followed you into the lab and refuses to leave. He’s now poking your upper back like he’s a prepubescent teenager who just discovered the poking feature on Facebook.

Your apartment mate Steve introduced you to Bucky last semester. Apparently a few interactions and that one time you helped him with a Chem 101 problem set was enough for Bucky to decide that you two should be a couple.

Oh yes, sparks did fly, but that’s because Bucky’s personality borders on the line of flirtation. As cute as he is, you’ve brushed away his “declarations” of love. You know how guys like Bucky work, and their agenda isn’t something you want to get involved in. When you find yourself getting too entranced by his chivalry and wit, you remind yourself to tread carefully. Much to your annoyance, your rejections have no effect on his persistence.

Forehead creased in frustration, you grab Bucky’s offending finger before staring into his blue eyes. “Please stop,” you let out.

Bucky hops onto the surface of a lab desk. Kicking his legs up and down, he lazily smirks at you as he watches your eyes drift from his eyes to the rest of his body. “You like what you see?” Bucky cheekily asks. “Take a picture, doll face. It lasts longer.”

“Hmm, I would, but I don’t want my camera lenses to shatter,” you sarcastically spit. You let out an exasperated sigh, tiredly rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. “Bucky, this,” you point to him and yourself, “will never happen, so just… Don’t waste your time on me. You could be doing something better with your time.”

“(Y/N), I don’t understand why you think this,” he mockingly imitates your pointing gestures, “will never happen.”

“Because it won’t. I’m sure of it. And I don’t want to date someone like you.”

While he pretends to nurse a wounded look, you spy hurt lining Bucky’s eyes. “What exactly does ‘someone like me’ mean?” he testily challenges.

Ignoring the poke of guilt that stabs you, you defensively cross your arms. “Accuse me of having my head in the clouds, but I want someone who makes me feel like the lead of a movie. I don’t want to be the supporting character who sits in the sidelines of the leading man’s life. I want to be kissed without abandon in the rain, not left in the rain with the raindrops masking the fact that I’ve been crying.”

“You’re the only person I want, and it’s been that way for a while.” The brunette tilts his head with a soft squint of his eye. “There’s no point in denying the attraction between us, (Y/N),” he solemnly notes.

“I’m not attracted to you, Bucky.” That’s a blatant lie, but he doesn’t know that…. Right?

Bucky hops off the counter and swaggers forward, his intense gaze burning fanatically with a dangerous glint. As he steps towards you, you reciprocate with a step backwards. This parallel dance continues until your back hits the edge of a table. The air grows heavy as Bucky cages you in with his arms. Your heartbeat starts responding to his close proximity by channeling a drum line, loudly jackhammering at its maximum potential.

“W-what are you doing?” you stammer, your eyes darting everywhere but his face.

Bucky lazily glides a hand up your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps. You will yourself to remain collected, but an involuntary shiver betrays your true thoughts. A smug smile confirms Bucky’s well-aware of what he’s doing to you.

Damn him. Damn his sex appeal. Damn his -

He tilts your chin upwards, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel the attraction between us.”

“Bucky, this is -”

“Do it, (Y/N), unless you can’t. But speak wisely, because your body’s basically given away the answer.”

“It’s just a physical reaction. It’s just adrenaline, dopamine, and serotonin,” you scientifically state, your voice contrasting the feel of your factual words.

“I’m not asking for a science lesson, doll.” Bucky leans in even closer, surprising you with the sincerity swirling in his eyes. “You’re not a hit-and-run person. You’re the real deal. I’ve said it a million times, but I’ll keep saying it until you fully comprehend - I really like you. How do I get you to understand this?”

You shrug with a challenging gaze. “I’ve always been a visual learner.”

“Visual learner, huh?” Bucky’s eyes dart to the containers and equipment placed on the table next to him. A roguish smile perks up on his lips and he releases you from to step behind a table. “Okay, I got it. Let me explain in ways that you understand.”

“Bucky, I -”

“Chemistry,” Bucky firmly asserts, filling up medium-sized bucket with water. “You and I have undeniable chemistry, something so electric that it’s explosive.” His eyes scan the table before he scoops something out of a container with a teaspoon, his hand covering the label. “You put us together, and we create something beautiful.”

Your eyes grow wide as Bucky tilts the teaspoon, the contents of the spoon falling into the water. “Bucky, wait, what did you -”

BOOM!

The explosion isn’t huge, but it’s big enough to ignite an explosive ball of flames. The echo of the explosion reverberates in the lab like thunder clap, and smoke plumes into the air. Bucky yelps, stumbling backwards in shock. Just as he opens his mouth, the smoke triggers the sprinklers in the room, and water rains down from the ceiling.

A pregnant pause smothers the room as the water soaks the both of you. Bucky gapes at you, his jaw dropping and closing like a goldfish’s as he realizes the gravity of the situation he just created. He glances at the label on the container. He sheepishly looks up. “Potassium?”

“An alkali metal that forms a soluble alkaline hydroxide and hydrogen gas when meeting water.” Bucky stares at you with a “what the fuck” expression. “The metal reacts rapidly with water, and the reaction is exothermic,” you yell over the sound of the sprinkler system. The brunette continues to stare at you with befuddlement. “It explodes when reacting to water!”

“So I messed up?!” He grounds his jaw as you point to the water raining from the ceiling. “Fuck me!” Bucky yells back. “I’m so sorry! There’s a reason why I failed Chem 101, and -” He pauses as he notices you stifling a smile, your shaking shoulders betraying laughter. “(Y/N)?”

“You’ve created an indoor storm,” you grin as water continues to rains down. A giggle escapes your lips as you take in Bucky looking like a kid who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar, his eyes wide with both boyish innocence and guilt. The corners of Bucky’s mouth quirk up, and within seconds the both of you erupt into loud and carefree laughter.

There’s something about unintentionally wrecking havoc to a chemistry lab that makes Bucky seem more endearing than annoying. As waters flood the room and the sound of laughter reverberates against the walls, the heavy prejudices you’ve built for Bucky start to melt away.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” Bucky chuckles, easily jumping over the table to directly face you. “I got caught up in the moment and forgot that things in a chem lab have potential to explode. I promise I’ll help you clean up.”

“Cleaning up is going to be a shit show,” you laughingly sigh. You look up, only to burst into another round of laughter over how Bucky’s wet hair falls over his eyes. “Aww, come here,” you giggle, mentioning for him to step closer. You lean in and skillfully push back his hair from his eyes and face. “There, now you can see properly.”

Bucky’s eyes darken and pierce into your soul as your hand traces down his jawline. His right arm hesitantly snakes around your waist as if to ask for permission to continue. When you don’t say anything, he raises his left hand to your cheek, caressing and wiping away away the water that rains onto your face. Your breath gets caught in your throat as lean into his touch, your body acting like it has a mind of its own.

“Alright.”

“Hmm?” he hums.

“As much as I don’t like being wrong, I’ll admit it. I’m attracted to you,” you slowly let out.

Bucky chuckles as he lightly knocks his forehead against yours. “We can blame chemistry. Literally and figuratively. And for the record, this,” he pauses to pull you flush against him, “obviously is very mutual.”

“This is Chemistry class, Bucky. We show our all of our work to prove ,” you breathlessly say, your eyes zeroing in on his full lips.

“Right. You’re a visual learner.” Bucky leans in but pauses, his lips inches away from yours. “For chemistry?” he asks, his voice rough and low.

“For chemistry.”

You could never have imagined that you would be glad someone ignored the basics of chemistry by dropping a chunk of potassium into water. You could have never imagined you would be thankful for an explosion that had potential to be dangerous.

Yet here you are, head in the clouds and basking in the feeling of the leading man kissing you without abandon in the “rain.”

Thank God for chemistry.

extended author’s note: your girl isn’t 100% fond of valentine’s day, but this one is for the all the mates and greats who deserve all the chocolate and love in the world. special thank you to the greats who stood up for me a few days ago. with all the “fight me”’s thrown at the anon, it almost felt like we were creating an army.

that said, this little ditty is dedicated to my greats (in no particular order): @buckyywiththegoodhair • @bovaria • @jurassicbarnes • @sebbytrash • @abovethesmokestacks • @hardcorehippos • @supercwm12 • @brighterlights • @plumfondler • @stormy-thomas • @iiharu-kunii • @cleanslates • @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x • @hellomissmabel • @maha-pambata-is-my-patronus • @dearthofequanimity • @corruptedlungsandblackwings • @beccaanne814-blog • @themcuhasruinedme • @imsecretlyromanburki • @pixierox101 • @fandomlifeuniverse • @captainpunk • @peoniesinmyhair • Grace my turnip anon • all the anons who smashed my “ask” button to shower me with support

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky oneshot #bucky imagine #marvel fic #marvel imagine #modern!bucky #modern!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky fanfic #ourpeachskies #ourpeachskies writes

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viollettes · 8 years ago

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“Worth It”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (College AU)

Summary: In which a friendship drastically changes due to an all-campus text alert about a strange man wandering the campus.

A/N: Another one from draft-purgatory. It feels weird releasing it into the wild.

"I hate you. So. Much," Bucky deadpans, looking up from a stapled packet of papers. "It takes me two weeks to write something of this quality, yet you pulled it off in two hours.”

"We'll know if it's really 'quality' when Professor Coulson gives it back," you yawn, snatching the 18-page research paper from him.

"How do I obtain your kind of focus? What's your secret?"

"The startling realization that a deadline is actually 8am and not 8pm."

The brunette stares at you as if you just grew a third eye on your forehead. "You're either completely insane or a brilliant genius," Bucky sighs with either admiration or exasperation.

"Well, all this insane genius wants to do right now is sleep," you sleepily murmur as you slide your paper back into your bag.

"Too bad Coulson docks points if you're absent." Bucky swings his messenger bag around and swiftly zips it open and pulls out a bottled iced coffee. "Take this," he nudges.

"For me?"

"No, for the unicorn behind you," Bucky sarcastically says, pushing the iced coffee towards you. "I can tell by your dark circles that you didn't sleep much. Take it, you have class until 8pm today," he insists.

Touched, you take the iced coffee and scrunch up your face in a cute way, but you don't know that, of course. "You're one of a kind, James Barnes," you grin.

Bucky crosses his arms against his chest, a slightly peeved look crossing his face. “How many times did I ask you not to call me 'James'?" he defeatedly sighs.

"A little less than a million times." You laugh as Bucky looks like he can’t decide on laughing with you or strangling you, but both of you know that you're absolutely right.

Like many college friendships, it started with alcohol. During a fraternity house party, you both were on the same team for a series of drinking games. By the seventh game, a pissed Bucky clung onto you, drunkenly explaining the Burr-Hamilton duel. He threw up your dress before passing out on your dorm room floor, only to profusely apologize and buy you brunch the next morning. The rest of your friendship was history.

It's undeniable that the friendship often straddled the line between platonic comfort and flirtatious tension. There were moments you found yourself staring into his eyes, wondering what would happen if you acted on your deepest instincts. Too bad Bucky would frequently kill your courage by saying something stupid or poking fun at you.

Just as you're about to comically bat your eyelids and bring up more details from the vomit story, your phone beeps - a text message.

"What? Your boyfriend?" Bucky nonchalantly asks, his eyes peeking over in attempt to check out the screen. "A secret admirer who also moonlights as your stalker?"

"Funny, James," you cajole while dropping your eyes to check the message. "And no, a campus text alert. Apparently there's been a strange man spotted around the greens. It's just telling us to be careful," you shrug, pocketing the phone.

Worry clouds over the brunette's blue eyes, but it disappears rather quickly, as most students ignored these alerts. "Okay then," Bucky brushes off. "I'll see you later?”

"Bye, boo," you saucily say, wiggling your fingers goodbye as you make your way to the ivy covered building on the right. You look over your shoulder and laugh as Bucky watches you leave with an exasperated expression.

You saunter away, only quickening your pace when you realize you're about to be late. In doing so, you miss Bucky's exasperation turn into a look of adoration and longing.

- - -

When clock finally strikes eight, and you sprint out of the building, spreading your arms out to bask in the cool air wafting through the dark campus.

Your stomach starts the ring the bells of hunger, so you turn on your heel and head towards your off-campus apartment. Music blasts through your earphones and you can't help but do a little dance as you strut your way down the college green.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

You ignore the campus alert text and tap on the group chat you share with your housemates.

WM: (Y/N), some of the girls in 1B and 3C spotted a creeper lurking around the apartment complex. Be careful when you walking home! NR: Scream if you need us WM: Not the time for jokes, Nat. WM: Wait, but actually scream if you do.

Just as you're about respond back to the girls, your phone dies, leaving you with a blank screen. Without the musical stylings of Bruno Mars blasting through your earphones, you suddenly became more aware of your surroundings.

As a tour guide for prospective students, you're very familiar with the campus, but today the place you call your second home seems very cold and unfriendly. A wave of dizziness passes you, it was the feeling people get when looking down at the edge of a tall building.

The moon is a strange kind of brightness, an unnatural light hanging in the clouds. The tall shadows of the buildings loom over you, and at that moment you realize you're alone. The wind whistles a low mystical tune in your ears, and a cold sensation suddenly tickles your spine.

Goosebumps scatter on your arms and you will yourself to shuffle along, cautiously peering at your surroundings. Uneasiness washes down you make your way down the street. You're about three minutes away from your apartment complex, and you quickly pick up your pace.

All of your senses jerk into high-gear when you hear the sound of leaves crunching behind you. Your hand automatically reaches for the small pepper spray you carried in your bag. Your blood freezes cold when you realize you left the spray in a small clutch bag in your room.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you continue on. You think there might be the sound of footsteps following you, but you don't dare look over your shoulder. As you walk, you remind yourself of self-defense steps you learned at the community center.

Hit the solar plexus. Strike the nose in an upwards palm strike. Poke the eyes. Go for the groin.

Apartment 1A appears in your line of sight, but it fails to bring you comfort as you notice the footsteps behind you quicken to match your fast pace. You're about to make a run for it when a hand grabs your right shoulder.

"NOO!!!!" you wildly scream.

All internal hell breaks loose, and you immediately forget about everything you learned at self defense class. In a split second, your eyes flash shut and you blindly throw a punch.

"OWW!!"

"Oh my God, Bucky! What are you doing here?!"

Bucky lets out a groan as he clutches his left cheek. "The hell, (Y/N)?" he lets out. A shaky exhale escapes his lips as he scrunches his face in an attempt to control the pain. “I -”

"STRANGER DANGER!" a female voice screams from behind.

Bucky opens his mouth to protest but is silenced as Wanda runs past you to deliver a Brazilian Kick. Her leg slams into the side of Bucky’s shoulder, effectively knocking him down to the floor. The brunette barely lets out a groan when the lean and fit figure of Nat practically flies down and kicks him in the center of the chest, flattening him to the ground again.

"I swear to God, lurk around here again, and I will personally cut off your ba -" Nat suddenly pauses as she gets a clear view of the person she just cleanly kicked in the chest. "Bucky Barnes?"

Bucky lets out a guttural moan as his hands switch around to clutch his cheek, shoulder, and chest. "Hi Natasha," he hoarsely says. Bucky attempts to sit up but quickly gives up and flops back on the street.

Both Wanda and Nat whip their heads around to where you're standing frozen, a look of shock permanently stamped on your face. The three of you stare at each other, silently communicating through your eyes. "I said to scream?" Nat hesitates. Looks of guilt flood onto your housemates' faces, and they quickly murmur their apologies to a moaning Bucky before scampering back into the apartment.

You rush to Bucky's side and help him sit up. "Oh God, you weren't supposed to be the person behind me... I'm so sorry, Bucky. I got freaked out because of the whole creeper text alert and everything," you pleadingly explain.

"All I wanted to do was surprise the girl I like, and I almost died doing it," Bucky groans, rubbing his chest. A laugh and smile makes its first appearance since the girls’ stealthy attack. "This never happens in the books and movies,” he self-consciously snickers.

"I thought you were a - wait, what?!"

"Are your all of your housemates MMA fighters or something? I know about Natasha, but that other girl. Girls that small aren't supposed to be that strong. How the hell is she stronger than most men?"

"Wanda's actually a ranked champion in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, but wait, Bucky you just said -"

"And you! Since when did you know how to punch like that?" Bucky lightly strokes his cheek with a crinkled wince. "Oh no, this is going to bruise badly," he bemoans. “God, I have to reschedule my senior portraits. I can’t show up with a big bruise like -”

"BUCKY! Shut up for a second!" you loudly exclaim, gently shaking your friend's collar. You wait as Bucky's mouth moves up and down a like a guppy before he obliges to your rather loud request. "Did you just say you like me?"

A beat of silence snaps by, but Bucky's face scrunches up in an incredulous way. "Out of everything I just said, is that the thing you only picked up on? (Y/N), you just punched my face, and your housemates -"

"Stop deflecting," you demand, giving him a knowing look.

Bucky exhales and his tongue swipes across his lips. "Damn, I wasn't supposed to say that out loud," he dejectedly sighs. Uncertainty reflecting in his eyes, he looks at everything but you. "Yes, I do like you, but... But, this wasn't the way I wanted to tell you."

"How would you have told me?"

"I don't know. I've been struggling to come to a decision. I don't want to ruin the friendship we have. I give you a lot of crap, but you actually mean a lot to me," Bucky slowly admits, his eyes finally meeting yours. He isn't aware of it, but the tables have turned and you’re trying not to squirm under his intense gaze.

"Um, you mean a lot to me too," you say before falling silent.

There have been multiple times when you've wondered about your reactions and feelings if you and Bucky ever crossed the line separating platonic friendship from something more. Now that it's actually happening, you have no idea what to do or say.

Bucky misunderstands your silence for rejection, sadness dimming his eyes as he pushes out the side of his cheek with his tongue. He quickly musters up a friendly grin and shakes his head. "Hey, don't worry about it. I can just fold up my feelings, and I promise that -"

"The county fair."

"- it won't be awkward, and - What?" He quizzically glances at you.

You gather up all of the courage resting in your heart, and say, "Would you like to go to the county fair with me? It's in town, and I'd love to go with you. But maybe not as friends. Maybe… like, on a date?”

Without a word, Bucky slowly ambles to his feet, softly groaning as he massages his aching shoulder and chest. He slings his arm around your shoulder and pulls, a move that brings your body flush against his. A gleeful smile has replaced the hurt and he chuckles. "Maybe getting punched and kicked by three freakishly strong women was worth it," Bucky cheekily grins.

A smile of equal amount of glee appears on your face when it hits you what Bucky's implying. "Really? Worth it?"

"No. Kind of. Yes? I don't know. But yeah... Worth it."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes #modern!bucky #modern!bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky #marvel imagine #ourpeachskies #ourpeachskies writes

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viollettes · 8 years ago

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“Worthy”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The super soldier returns from a difficult mission, and you witness a side of Captain America that not many can or will see.

soundtrack: “Close to You” (Rihanna)

A/N: I wrote this a few months ago as a self-reminder that it’s okay to be sad and angry. Posting this is my way of letting that moment go. - j. x

“Well done, everyone. Today…” Tony lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his tired eyes. “Today was rough. But we did what we had to do,” he continues, his voice straining with effort. “Let’s get some rest, team.”

Steve waits until everyone shuffles into their respective suites to raise his arm and clap a hand on Tony’s shoulder, wincing at the pain the movement creates. “Hey, I’m going to head out for a bit… Clear my head,” he mutters.

Tony gives him an exhausted but bright smile. “Going to see (Y/N)?”

“Yeah… Yeah.”

“Take the autopilot car. You can’t take the bike in your current state. And it’s late.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.” He looks past Tony’s shoulder, making eye contact with Bucky. “Will you -”

The brunette super soldier shakes his head at him with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be okay. Go see her, man.”

Sending grateful nods at the two men, Steve backs up and heads to the garage, the light fading from his eyes until they’re dark and empty. He revs up the engine and rips through the dark of night. Tonight’s evening ride is different from previous rides because the bright lights of the city fail to cheer him up as he whizzes through the cars on the streets. The cathartic feeling of the wind whipping through his body doesn’t bring the comfort and thrill it normally does.

It’s only when he comes to a stop in front of the familiar apartment that the light slightly returns to his blue eyes. Gritting his teeth through the pain, Steve chains his motorcycle and clicks it locked. He pushes through the pain of the stairs, letting out a sigh once he finally stares at the dried rose wreath hanging on your door.

For the first time in a long time, a genuine smile cracks through Steve’s stony facade, and he poises his fist over the door.

- - -

Whenever Steve leaves for a mission, your heart kicks into overdrive.

He tries to assure you that he’s okay with an occasional heart or smiley face emoji message, but even that can’t calm the quick staccato beats of your heartbeat. You feel like you’re drowning in a quicksand of concern until you receive confirmation that he’s safe and sound.

Maybe your heart wasn’t meant for dating a superhero whose job and purpose had him constantly putting his life on the line. But it’s too late to do anything about it - you’re head over heels in love for the blonde super soldier, and for some reason he’s really in love with you too.

After tossing and turning for hours, you finally fall asleep while hugging the long body pillow. Only thirty minutes pass when a knock at your apartment door awakens you from your light slumber. You wrap a quilt around your shoulders and sleepily pad off to the door. You open the door, and a flurry of emotions pass over your face as you take in the battered form of Steve Rogers.

"Hi, babe," Steve lets out, his smile bright and boyish, trying his best to mask the pain and exhaustion.

You want to cry when you take in his injured form. Just by looking at his posture, you know his attacker used his spine as a keyboard and banged out an entire symphony. He's fully clothed, his stealth suit stained of blood and dirt, but you know his strong body will be a visual map of contusions and abrasions, colorfully highlighted in red and purple.

You want to ask him why he's here at 2am instead of the Avengers Towers. Steve shouldn't be here in his condition, he should be receiving medical attention under the monitoring of Dr. Banner.

But you don't cry, because it'll only worry him. You don't ask, because this man has the right to do what he wants after a strenuous mission. Instead you open your arms with a huge smile. "Hi, Stevie," you softly say. “I’m glad you’re back.”

A sigh of relief escapes his lips, and Steve quickly steps into your arms. "I needed to see you," he groggily admits, inhaling your scent as he winds his arm around you.

"Mmhm," you hum, gently kicking the door shut and carefully wrap your arms around his body, snuggling deep into his chest as he sinks into your body. You remain silent but allow your body language to communicate your thoughts.

I'm glad you're okay. I'm glad you're alive. Whatever it is, you'll be okay.

“How bad is it?” you finally offer after minutes of silence.

“I’ll be fine. Bruce took care of most of the injuries on the quinjet. It just looks worse than what it really is.”

“Tough night?”

“You have no idea,” Steve murmurs into your hair. He lets out another a long and dragged sigh, the end quivering with emotion.

Red alarms go in your head as the blonde tightens his grip. Something happened tonight, and while you’re slightly curious, you aren’t going to actively coax the reason out of him. Steve’s obviously in a sensitive state of mind, and you don’t want to poke and prod. Moments like this make you feel a little helpless. While you know he’ll never hold it over your head, you can’t help but feel apologetic for how much you can’t do for Steve.

And as if he’s read your mind, Steve pulls apart from the hug and gently taps your nose. “You’re enough, just the way you are, doll,” he huskily whispers. He chuckles as you blush and make a face. “Now,” he leans his forehead against yours, “all I want to do is take a hot shower and fall asleep with my girl.”

- - -

After scouring for the ultra-soft towel you bought specifically for Steve in your drawer, you head to the bathroom where you've set up a hot shower for the super soldier. The door is ajar, the light streaming into the hallway, and you stop in your tracks as you take in the view.

Steve stands fully clothed under the rushing water of the showerhead, the bathroom dimly lit. You can see his upper body spasming and jerking, making you wonder what's wrong. As you come closer to the door, you barely hear soft whimpering sounds, and you see his face glistened with freshly shed tears.

The whimpering grows louder, and soon Steve is desperately sucking in breath between sobs. His hot, salty tears flood his cheeks, dripping off his cheek and blending in with the hot shower water.

Without any apprehension or hesitation, you step into the shower, ignoring the odd sensation of wet wool sticking to your skin. You cautiously place a hand on Steve's back. When he doesn't protest, you take that as an invitation to slowly turn him around so he faces you.

Steve opens his mouth to say something, anything, but all that comes out are deep, gut-wrenching sobs that tear through his chest and convulsed his body. He drops to the floor, bringing you down with you, shaking and gasping.

"I couldn't save them all," he chokes, rocking back and forth. "There's so many I couldn't help. I'm supposed to be Captain America, the man who can do it all and protect everyone. I... I tried my best, but my best wasn't enough and -" Steve stares at you, his bloodshot eyes boring into yours. "How do can you love someone like me? Someone who's not worthy of being called a hero?" he demands, his voice desperately quivering towards the end of his sentences.

Struggling to find the right words, you resort to speechlessly sinking to the floor to bring him into your chest. One arm winds around his waist and another curves to the back of his head, gently stroking his wet blonde hair. Steve fully slumps into your embrace.

His beaten and battered form reminds you of what many people tend to forget - the man behind the red, white, and blue shield may be primed to be at the zenith of human potential, but he isn't invincible.

You know that Steve will be back on his feet tomorrow, cracking jokes at how lazy you are as he swaggers back into the bedroom from his too-early morning workout. He’ll fix you a quick breakfast and whisk off to work, but he’ll make sure he steals a sinfully delicious kiss from you. Despite the soreness from his injuries, Steve will head into meetings and trainings with a his signature professionalism.

After the Avengers clock off, he’ll steal away from the tower and come back to your apartment. Steve will wrap his strong arms around your waist and refuse to let you move while smothering your neck and face with kisses. When you sleepily note he should get back to the tower before it gets too late, Steve will coyly make an excuse about being too tired. He’ll throw you over his shoulder, chuckling as he ignores your giggles and yelps. He’ll fall asleep in your arms as you finish a chapter of your book.

He is Captain America, and he’s embodiment of American bravery and diligence. But he’s also Steve Rogers, the world’s best boyfriend and the man of your dreams.

While you want to bring up his admirable resilience as a way to comfort him, you figure it’s best to keep that silent for the time being.

So for now, you let him bury his head into your shoulder and release all of the inner, suppressed demons. You kiss the side of his temple and continue to tangle your fingers in his hair, allowing him to bask the cathartic feeling of the hot water beating down his back and the smooth stroking of his hair.

You were doing the right thing. It’ll be okay. I promise it’ll be okay.

You are worthy. You are so worthy. I love you. Ardently and dearly.

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viollettes · 8 years ago

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“Eyes Up Here”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (College AU)

Summary: In which you can’t take your eyes off of Steve’s rather glorious abs.

This story was heavily inspired by “Counting One, Two Three” written by @brighterlights. Naturally, this one’s for Jade as she shares my fangirl feelings about Steve/Chris.

A/N: This is my first Steve story, and I thought it’s finally time to bring it out of queue-purgatory. Because I’ve gotten so used to writing for Bucky, switching over to Steve was a little bit of a challenge. However, I adore him so I’m going to try my best. Hope you enjoy! - j xx

"Sssh, guys it's happening."

Right when you look up, a tall figure stops running and pulls off his shirt, revealing a body Michelangelo's David would have envied. The sunshine and sweat add a shiny gleam to the ridges of his pectoral and abdominal muscles, making him look like a fallen god from the skies of Olympus.

That is, if fallen gods wore tight gray running shirts and track pants.

"And there it is," Wanda breaths, her already-large eyes widening. She and Nat start a slow clap, the latter adding in a couple of whistles.

"I can't tell believe you dragged me out of bed at six in the morning on a Wednesday to watch someone take off his shirt," you sigh as you tiredly rub your eyes. You look around - there's no one at the track but three of you and the hottie with the abs.

"You can grumble all you want, (Y/N), but you have to admit this is hell of a view," Nat grins. Her steely gaze turns pensive and she muses, "You think those abs are completely gym-manufactured or made through sports?"

"It's got to be both. That," Wanda moves her hand in the direction of the abs in question, "is too incredible and has to be a result of magic."

"It's too early for this," you sigh. But Nat is right, those abs are rather glorious, and you can't help blush as you watch the athlete's chest rise and fall as he catches his breath.

Right then the half-naked person of their discussion squints their way, his hand shielding his eyes from the sun. While you're too slow to react, Wanda immediately drops her eyes to the phone while Nat casually blows a bubble with her gum.

His eyes stop on you, and his lips turn up into cheekily smile. He first waves before sending you a two-finger salute. Something in your brain clicks as soon as he salutes, and you gasp, "Holy motherfu -"

"Swear jar!"

You hold out your index finger in Wanda's direction. "Nope, I didn't say the entire word!" you exclaim.

Nat keenly stares at you, her fingertips drumming the side of her leg. "Do you know this guy?" she asks.

"That's my friend who's been helping me study for my History of World War II class."

"That's Steve Rogers?" Wanda incredulously asks, her jaw slightly dropping. "That's the guy you've been meeting up with three times a week for this past semester? The sweetest guy you've ever met has a body like that? No wonder you think you might have a crush on him."

"No! I mean, yes, but -"

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N), you little minx." A sly smile perks up on Nat's lips and the redhead strikes a saucy pose. "You didn't tell us that all this time, you've been meeting up with this bonafide hottie with an ass that won't quit."

"Swear jar!" you loudly accuse.

Nat glances at Wanda. "Swear jar commissioner?" she asks.

"Pass, because it's true," Wanda nonchalantly shrugs. She giggles at your miffed expression and nods her heads towards Steve. "Look, his butt is like a perfect peach," she observes before turning to you. “How did you not know about this incredible body of his?”

"He always wears sweaters that cover up... that," you gesture at your study buddy's incredible shoulder-to-waist ratio. Besides, you have a crush on him because of he’s such a gentleman; he’s a ridiculous flirt with you during your study sessions, but everything he says and does has the foundation of chivalry and integrity. Looks were never important to you, but you, too, begin to blush as Steve's sex god body slowly infiltrates your mind.

"Oh, he's waving at you again."

You look up from your shoes, and sure enough Steve is waving at you, beckoning you to come over. You shrug at your girlfriends and make your way over to him, well aware of Nat's hawk-like eyes boring into your back.

"Hey Steve," you awkwardly greet, holding up your hand. Your mind goes blank as you realize how close you are to his perfectly sculpted chest. His pectorals are much more majestic up-close.

"Thank you for sending me the notes for last week's class. If you ever need a favor, you know who to ask," Steve kindly thanks, a sunny and eager look reflecting in his eyes.

"Mmhm, don't worry about it," you say, not realizing how distracted your tone is. Your eyes unconsciously drop from Steve's blue eyes and wander down.

"I was wondering if you have time tomorrow to review for the upcoming test," he asks. "I know it's a Thursday night, but..." Steve pauses when he realizes that your eyes have lowered and are ogling at his naked torso. "(Y/N)?" he calls out.

"Mmhph," you numbly utter, still taking in the glory of Steve's abs. How is it humanly possible for abs like this to exist? Your hand unconsciously reaches out to touch, but you catch yourself before your hand makes contact with his bare skin.

"(Y/N)?" Steve stifles his laughter and taps your shoulder, snapping you out of your trance-like state. "Hey, eyes up here," he pokes, pointing to his baby-blues.

Your face immediately burns red, and you wish you could dig a hole in the middle of the track and bury yourself in it. "Yeah, mmhmm," you offhandedly mutter, forcing yourself to look up into his eyes. "You were saying?"

"Tomorrow night? Reviewing for history?" he repeats, a teasing mixture of a smirk and smile taking over the tall blonde's face.

"Right. History. Yes," you choppily respond, growing more flustered as your peripheral vision catches the subtle movement of his abs. Was he flexing on purpose or was that natural? "Thursday night, history - Wait! I'll actually be in the art studio from 1pm. Come to Quill Hall around seven. We can review there."

"See you then." Steve flashes you a grin before turning away, giving you another free chance to stare at his physique.

Once Steve leaves the track, you spin around to glance at your friends, still dazed from what just happened. Wanda starts to slow-clap again while Nat smirks, a devilish glint in her eyes.

Oh, you’re so screwed.

- - -

"Done!"

You throw your arms up in celebration and take in the large acrylic painting you just completed. Music blasts through your speakers, complementing your ecstatic mood.

Doing a little shimmy, you use your paintbrush to twist your hair into a bun. Gleeful, you spin around in happiness, only to freeze when you notice Steve watching you in amusement and wonder. "When did you get here?" you inquire.

"Right about here." Steve starts to imitate your shimmy, his hips sinfully swaying back and forth. He gyrates his body and loses himself in the music whilst making the goofiest facial expressions. He clutches his chest and throws his head back in laughter as you cover your face in embarrassment. "Hey, it's cute," he comments, lightly poking your arm.

"I'm going to wash my hands. Make yourself home, I booked the studio until midnight," you say before you scamper off. In the restroom, you splash water onto your cheeks, hoping the pink on your cheeks will settle down.

Ready to focus on history again, you return to the studio, only to freeze in your tracks. Steve's in the middle of taking off his hoodie, and he's accidentally pulled up his white t-shirt as well. As a result, his glorious chest and abs are on display again.

Your breath gets caught in your throat again and you don't realize Steve catches you blatantly staring again.

"(Y/N), eyes up here," he clucks, pointing to his eyes again. When you don't answer, Steve throws up an X over his chest with his muscular arms and grabs his shoulders, effectively blocking his pecs and abs.

"Wuh? Wait! I wasn't staring," you defend, fervently waving your hands in protest.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll think you’re only keeping me around for my body,” the blonde teases. "At least buy me dinner before you stare at me like that!" Steve teases. He drops his arms, only to hoot in laughter when you jaw involuntarily drops again. "Eyes up here!"

“It’s not my fault you keep flashing your abs in front of me!” you accuse as you pull out the paintbrush intertwined in your hair and incriminatingly point at at his midsection. “Who even has muscles like that? That’s just rude!” you declare as you continue to swipe your paintbrush around like a wizard attempting to conjure a spell.

“This is only the second time!” the blonde argues, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Rude!” you yell again, lightly whacking his thigh with the brush. A defeated yet amused sigh escapes you as Steve goes into another chest-clutching and shoulder-shaking laugh.

“It’s just my stomach, (Y/N),” he nonchalantly shrugs.

“Well, you don’t see me flashing my boobs at you, do ya?”

Steve stops from opening his backpack with a pondering look. “Huh, true.” Suddenly the corners of his mouth turn up to match the deviously devilish glint in his eyes. “Though, I wouldn’t -”

You hold up the paint brush, eyebrow arched and daring him to continue. “Really, Rogers?” you interrupt.

The blonde innocently shrugs as he sits on one of the drawing desks, flipping open his textbook. “Worth a try,” he winks. “And besides, we’re friends.”

“Friends flash each other’s abs and boobs at each other?”

“Probably not,” Steve chuckles. “But I have to admit, I kind of like it when you get all flustered.”

“No, it’s embarrassing.”

“No, it’s cute.”

You frown and crinkle your nose. “I look like a spaced-out lobster.”

Steve crosses his arm with a steely determination on his face. “I like lobsters,” he staunchly retorts.

Confused about how you’re supposed to respond, you furrow your brow and rapidly blink at him. Steve also visibly processes his words, and pretty soon both of you are laughing your heads off at the ridiculousness of his sentence - him clutching his chest again while you face-palm yourself in laughter.

“Okay, come on. Let’s start reviewing. We have a test, and Professor Carter isn’t going easy on us this time,” Steve encourages. “Also...” He leans dangerously close to you with a playful glint in his eyes. “If we kick ass on this review session, maybe I’ll let you touch my abs,” he winks.

“Oh God, please stop.”

“Eyes up here, babe. Eyes up here.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x oc #steve rogers x you #steve x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve imagine #modern!steve #modern!steve rogers #captain america imagine #marvel imagine #ourpeachskies #ourpeachskies writes

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viollettes · 8 years ago

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“Leap of Faith”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: After hiking up a beautiful cliff overlooking the ocean, you confront Steve about why he hasn’t acted on his feelings for you.

Soundtrack: “Castle on the Hill” (Ed Sheeran) “Stronger” (Clean Bandit) “On Our Way” (The Royal Concept)

A belated one for JinWoo, the master of taking leaps of faith.

A/N: This one has been in my queue for about a month, and I rewrote it yesterday after a horrible session of therapy. Forgive me for the bumps and mistakes, I’m still not used to writing for/about Steve. - j xx

"Whoa... This is beautiful.."

"Yeah, it is..." Steve breathes out, silenced by his awe of the view.

The isolated cliff you stand on sits tall, almost angrily, breathing in the salty air of the ocean below with small gasps. There's a rocky edge that looms over the majestic sea, which spawns fantastic waves. Boasting a gradation of shades ranging from a peaceful sea green to a deep blue, the ocean dances the line between raging waters and a lulling calm.

The hike up to the high point had been a rather challenging one, but anyone who endures the hike is rewarded with with a stunning vista of the surrounding area. While the rest of the Avengers have chosen to frolic and relax on the beach, you and Steve toughed the upward hike and are treating your eyes to a view worthy of the gods.

Steve glances at the you with a small smile. "You okay, (Y/N)?"

"Peachy, Captain. Just peachy," you sarcastically wheeze. You use the sleeve of your shirt -why on Earth did you wear a long sleeve on a hike?- to dab your forehead before shooting the blonde an infuriated look. "How are you not sweating? Does the serum also make you look like a model even after a six mile hike?"

Steve glances down at his body before shrugging. "The wind blew it off?" he weakly offers. The super soldier bursts into laughter as you dramatically roll your eyes at his answer. "Sorry, (Y/N). I probably should have warned you about this hike's difficulty."

"Mmhm, no wonder everyone else opted to skip the hike." You take in a deep breath and allow yourself to bask in the warm sun and salty air. "But man, they're really missing out," you happily sigh.

"Yeah, they are..."

This time you glance at Steve, letting your eyes wander over his physique, which is fantastically showcased in his tight blue workout shirt. Your eyes return from its journey only to make eye contact with his brilliantly blue eyes. Knowing that he caught you ogling at him, Steve arches an eyebrow. You, shameless about your lustful admiration for his body, deviously bite your lower lip and wink.

"One day that look will get you in deep trouble," Steve grumbles. He's suddenly aware of how hot his face is and looks away, hoping the ocean air will cool him down.

"Too late, Captain. I'm already in too deep."

Steve's blood runs cold and he whips his head back in your direction. He only grows more flustered as you fluff your hair and wipe off more sweat, all while giving him a knowing look. "What?" he quizzically tosses.

A bittersweet laugh escapes your lips. This was the first time you've directly referenced your feelings for the hero, but you might as well continue. "Steve, it's no secret that I'm madly in love with you."

"Why?" the super soldier blurts out, staring at you in an unreadable way.

"You have a heart of gold, sacrificing yourself for the benefit of others. While others run away from the gunshots, you actively run towards them if it means keeping people safe. You stick to your morals and values, You're a gentleman who speaks louder with his actions. Whether it's covering me with a blanket when I fall asleep in front of the TV or covering my blindside on a mission, you're always there for me."

"(Y/N), you..." His voice falters as he shakes his head.

"I mean it," you firmly insist. "You're the first thing that pops into my head in the morning and the last thing to bid me good night when sleep takes over. You occupy my brain so much that it's beginning to resemble a fangirl blog dedicated to Captain America."

The initial surprise of your confession has worn off and Steve finally finds the luxury to snort out a laugh. "I've seen one of those blogs. It's kind of scary."

"I know. And you know what else is scary?" You poke his muscular arm with your index finger, cutely wrinkling your nose as you do so. "I learned it's really easy falling in love with you, but it's difficult denying the intensity of my feelings for you."

"(Y/N), I -"

You place that same index fingers on his lips, effectively blocking whatever counterargument Steve was going to bring up. "I know for a fact that you also have feelings for me." You laugh when the super soldier's brow furrows in indignation. "Oh come on, I've seen the way you look at me. Plus," you lean in devilishly, "Bucky and Clint told me everything."

"Remind me to kill them," Steve defeatedly sighs, scratching the back of his head

"But I have to ask," you start, doubt finally crowding into your usually confident eyes, "is there a reason why you haven't acted on your feelings? There's a limit to how much a girl can physically flirt with you without losing her own pride, Steve."

Steve's lips start to mirror the bittersweet smile that seems to have permanently settled on your beautiful face. His chest rises and falls as he lets out a deep breath, his brain ricocheting as it searches for the best way to answer this question.

How is he supposed to explain that the sparks he’s been encountering since the day Clint recruited you into the Avengers as his official protege? How is he supposed to let you know that every time you did that sinful thing with your lips and eyes, he has to suppress the strong urges to toss you over his shoulder and ravish you in his bedroom?

Oh yes, Steve is the face of American freedom and chivalry, but the thoughts he has about you are everything but chivalrous.

And you're absolutely right. He has feelings for you that go beyond the physical. Your devil-may-care attitude amuses him, and it's the perfect compliment to his noble and sturdy persona. However, it's your softness inside that truly captures him. You may be in line to take over the Hawkeye name -no one knows when that is as Clint likes to go in and out of retirement- but you're all but a soft and harmless marshmallow at heart.

But why hasn't he acted on his feelings?

"I don't know what will happen if we become official," Steve slowly admits. "In order for me to be a Steve Rogers who can take his girl out for a drive or a walk in the park, I'd have to sacrifice a bit of Captain America. I... I just can't do that right now. I can't take that leap."

You arch your eyebrow, not completely his buying his answer. “The leap?”

“The leap.” Steve repeats, a pensive look resting on his eyes and eyebrows. “It’s not my time to date and love, because I have a duty to the people. I can’t have my duty as Cap be compromised because I want to be a carefree and happy Steve Rogers.”

He lets out a small pained sigh, his hand reaching out towards your cheek but faltering midway. “My resolve started to falter when Clint brought you in. For the first time in years, I found myself wanting to break my own rule.” Steve drops his hand and shoves it into his shorts pocket. “But it would kill me if you’re put in danger because of our relationship. I can’t have you become the bait. I can’t risk that happening to you.”

“So you’re saying you have feelings for me, but you’re going to sit on them and do nothing about it?”

The super soldier winces at your blunt paraphrasing but slowly nods. “That’s one way to put it...”

You cock your head to the right, lips slightly pursed, before giving him a small shrug. "Okay... Well, you leave me no choice!"

"Yeah, and - wait, what?!"

A cheeky smile takes over your lips as you whip off your shirt, displaying a colorful high-neck halter bikini top. Steve stares in both lustful awe and confusion as you tightly knot your shirt around your hips.

"(Y/N), what are you going to do?"

You clap your hands on the sides of Steve's cheeks and pull his face closer to yours. "Captain, I'm going to show you how to take a leap. Watch carefully," you grin. Just as Steve registers what you're implying, you plant a quick kiss on his lips and take off with a running start. Within seconds, you push off the cliff and you're gone.

"(Y/N)!! NO!!" Steve runs to the edge of the cliff, sand and dirt flying about as he dangerously skids to a stop. His heart pounds like a jackhammer as the water consumes your body. Cold sweat forms on his forehead and back as he gets on his knees, his eyes darting around the ocean. "Come on, (Y/N). Surface, surface!" he frustratedly demands, smacking the ground.

After what seems like an eternity, you pop out of the white sea foam, adrenaline-infused laughter outlining your face as you wildly gasp for air.

"WHAT THE FUCK, (Y/N)?!"

"LANGUAGE, STEVEN!" you yell from below, gleefully letting the water embrace you with its salty waves. "Jump! It's so wonderful here!"

"YOU'RE INSANE!" Steve yells, not knowing whether or not he should cry in joy or rip out his hair in frustration.

You cup your hands around your mouth to create a faux-megaphone and yell, "Think of it as an opportunity! This is your chance to take the leap! COME ON!"

“That’s it, she’s no longer allowed to spend time with Clint,” he mutters, pushing his hair back. “What the...”

Steve knows what you're asking him to do. Yes, there's the frightening cliff jump -he makes a mental note to talk to you about thinking before acting - but there's also the figurative jump.

A large part of Steve’s personality deeply stems from the rooted melancholy that seems to follow him around. He’s aware his heroics and selflessness have costed him. He’s constantly grappling with idealism of feeling out of place with this radically different world.

But things aren’t too bad these days.

Unlike before, he now looks forward to eating breakfast, where a certain bright-eyed sassy girl always holds court with her cup of coffee in her signature violet mug. During team meetings, mission reports take second priority as Steve finds himself discreetly staring at the female archer, wondering if she’s having a good day or not. His heart skips a worried beat whenever they’re on a mission, but the concern immediately turns to pride as he catches her effortlessly flip off a building and skillfully mark her target with her violet bow and arrow.

A breeze swirls about his body, a stunning calm creeps into his heart as he watches you delightfully tread water in the water. Warmth embraces his stomach as he thinks about how you, too, have invaded every aspect of his thoughts and dreams.

"COME ON, STEVE! YOU CAN DO IT! TAKE THAT LEAP OF FAITH!"

After stepping away from the edge, Steve gazes at what's ahead of him, a long drop, then water. An unfamiliar sensation of euphoria electrifies his entire body, instilling confidence as he begins to run. His feet pushes through the rough grass and sand, hitting smooth warm rocks. His foot slowly and gracefully pushes off the edge of the rock.

And as he soars towards the water, butterflies invade his stomach, and the man behind the Captain America shield experiences the type of lightheaded and worried anticipation that comes along when embarking on uncharted waters.

But that's how you're supposed to feel when you take a leap of faith, right?

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x oc #steve x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #avengers imagine #steve rogers #marvel imagine #steve imagine #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x oc #captain america imagine #ourpeachskies #ourpeachskies writes

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