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Blood Doilies; Part Five

A/N: I wrote this part up yesterday by couldn’t complete it due to the migraine I was suffering from. It had me out cold from 4-8pm then onwards after some strong pain relief. I’m also still feeling super off today, so bear with me, please. I’m sorry for the mess around. 

Hopefully, I’ll be able to start on some more parts and go from there. Even in this story and some others that I have the desire to make a continuation on. It’ll be good to have a day of creativity when I’ve been feeling so lost and spaced over the weekend. 

Taglist: @zodiyack​, @itsfrancisneptun​, @hesagod-notyet​, @fandom-fucking-shit​ & @amy-booxx​

Parts: [1], [2], [3], [4] 

Pairing: Thomas Shelby X Reader

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Thomas carried you up to the bedroom at the safe house. Pol had met your arrival and let everyone in. The children were still with Ada in Shelby’s private residence. Laying you down in the bed, the head of the Shelby empire stroked the clammy hair from your face. Eyes wide with concern and disdain for himself–for not getting there in time. “Pol, I’m going out to find the bastard that did this. Please, can you stay here and watch over her. Ada said that the children were in bed and asleep with Karl.” He said straightening out his coat, stained with your blood and filth. 

Using that as a disguise and appearance that would scare even the hardest of men. “Don’t get yourself killed, Thommy. You’re already blinded by love and affection. Be careful but make that devil pay for what’s done.”  Polly sat by the end of the bed letting the doctor in to do his work. Bathing your body with balms and salves after cleaning wounds. The state of your head meant that it’d be a long night, the concussion. They couldn’t risk you falling asleep and never waking up again. Pol would end up losing the only intelligent communication she had besides Ada and Tommy. 

Her hand rested over yours, she had helped you get changed after the doctor left. Offering tea and painkillers to ease the various levels of pain that rippled through your body. There was so much pain you felt yourself going insane. Driving you to be sitting up in bed propped up on a bunch of pillows. Feeling somewhat better after being cleaned up, but marks lingered your flesh like ugly welts. 

—

Thomas and the other Peaky Blinders were on the hunt. The smell of your iron blood on his clothing seemed all the more the motivator. To find the scum that you had married and put the man in his very own grave. Somewhere no one would find him at all. Where he’d very quickly be forgotten and never ever remembered. People who knew of this crime and the many others that he’d committed against his loving wife and children. Tommy would be sure to make it a painful reminder to those people. 

For them to know, that if they harm the ones that are protecting the defenceless, Peaky Blinders would be soon at your door and delivering the execution of their life. Stalking through the streets of Water Lane, an ember of his cigarette glowing. One of the boys had found him. So, it was to Charlie’s boatyard that Thomas was meeting the Peaky Boy that helped and the scum he wanted nothing more than to cut his throat. No, of course, that would have been a death too simple and easy on him. 

William deserved every bit of the suffering that he had pushed onto [Y/N]. That’s what Tommy had to tell himself over and over again upon arrival. There he was the hateful man covered with your own blood, staining that of his clothes and flesh. Without the look of care in the world. It didn’t bother him whatsoever that he’d been laying into you. The mother of his children. A woman that Thomas had found a strong pull to in the short time of knowing. 

He hurt the woman Thomas was beginning to love and that woman was you. 

He stood straightened than a nail, feeling the cold breeze of the night ushering through the boatyard. Surrounding this vile man was the likes Curly, Charlie Strong, Athur, John, Finn and others. One swift pair of fingers plucked the cigarette from Tommy’s lips. Pushing the butt into William’s forehead twisting the embers into his flesh. The man held back was crying out like a child. “Did [Y/N] scream when you beat her within an inch of her life?” Thomas asked with a voice of malice ice. Driving his foot into the man’s stomach, driving him into the earth. 

“I have a means to kill you right here and now, but that wouldn’t send the message. You’re going to suffer.” Tommy promised as a puff of vapour left his lips into the cool air around them.  God knew the Shelbys were good on their promises. Thomas had all the boys lay a hand in the punishment, some cut William’s ears off and wide smiles in his cheeks. It wasn’t long before they all were particularly painted with the various splatters of the hateful man’s blood. Where they stopped for a time, lighting a smoke. Eyes roaming the beaten man. 

One bullet could end the pain he was in but none of them were going to offer such kindness. Instead, they tied sacks of rocks to his wrists and ankles. Waiting just for the right time. When he would wake up again, to nudge William into the ice waters of the Cut. Where they’d thrown all their medals after the war. Arthur being the strongest took that honour. “Tell the fishes, the Peaky fookin Blinders thought they’d like a good feedin’.” He said pushing the man in the waters watching the thrashing waters for a time. The sinking bubbles. Until it was still and not a sign of the drowning man beneath. 

—-

Thomas returned to the family home and washed himself. Going to see your children and comfort them. Ada was just feeding Marcus with a bottle, Annabeth was sobbing into her dolly wanting her mummy. Clean of all blood. He made his way to the little girl smoothing his hand over the messy curls on her head. “I’ll take you to see your mother soon, I promise you. How about we get you ready for bed for now, and I’ll read you a story, hmm?” Thomas compromised with the stubborn little girl. Trying to make things a little better. 

After the reading, Thomas carried her over to see you. Marcus was fast asleep in the crib. But Annabeth embraced you and sobbed into your chest. Only for you to soothe back the messy curls, kiss your daughter’s head lovingly. Lifting your bruised form to look at Thomas beneath your curtain of dressings. “Sorry to have caused so much trouble for you, Thomas.”  You muttered in a short breath, as he took the seat by the bedside. Offering a crooked smile at the apology. 

“Don’t apologise,” Tommy said clearly, almost like it was an order. Reaching out and squeezing your hand lightly. Causing a spreading warmth in the depth of your stomach. Butterflies flitting about. You honestly at that time thought it was the pain medication making you feel this way. Not the man waiting by your side so faithfully. It was beyond nice having him there. The mere presence of him comforted you, and you saw that the storm behind his gaze had lowered to a dull simmer. Not at all the burning desire to kill when you were fading in and out of consciousness throughout the night.

“You killed him didn’t you?” You felt balls for asking but you needed to know. If you’d continue to be hunted and hurt. If the sleep little lives in the room would be at risk of harm. Annabeth was rested in the crook of your shoulder breathing calmly in her sleep. Murmuring her own little language of talk that only she understood herself in that frame of time. Dolly was on your stomach, and never too far from the little girl out of fear that she’d react badly from the absent dolly. 

There has been enough upset for one day, and you didn’t want to see tears streaming down your lovely daughter’s cheeks. It would just break your heart at that moment. There had been enough heartbreaking pain for one day after everything that happened in the evening. 

No,  instead, you spoke with Thomas until the early hours of dawn had ushered in the sleep that you were now allowed. The aching body fully accepts being pulled under by dire need. Drifting off mid-conversation, but Thomas didn’t at all seem to mind. No, instead, he began to fall asleep his hand over your own.

London Girl- Three.

I. Fucking. Love. Arthur. Shelby.

[1] [2] [3]

Tag list: @power-of-words23​ @igottagetmyselftogemina​ @therightcupoftea @midnattheir​ @the-makingsofgreatness​ @deaflikehawkeye​ @sarai-ibn-la-ahad​ @lettersshapes​ @yoheyyosup​ @awessomness​ @blindedbytheblinderss​ @biba3434​ @onlythechicagoway​ @mortalflower​ @mollybegger-blog​ @imnotuglyimjustpredebut 

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Warning: swearing.

It is the start of something beautiful. 

YOUR POV 

You had lived in London for your entire life, knowing the city as if the streets were mapped out on the palm of your hand. You could walk through the alleys with your eyes closed, and still be aware of your surroundings, as your fingertips brush against the buildings. You had spent many hours as a young woman, exploring the streets of London, discovering what treasures had been secretly hidden within the shadows. You could often see the beauty hidden deep within something, your eyes exposing features that others may not have witnessed. That is how you had come to find the club, where you had arranged to meet Arthur that evening. Hidden within one of the darkest alleys in London, it was the perfect backdrop for your secret tryst with Arthur Shelby. 

Your footsteps echoed, as your heals made contact with the cobbled floor. A simple emerald green shift dress graced your frame, the fabric delicately brushing against your curves. Your outfit was significantly plainer than your usual choice of clothing, a deliberate choice this evening. You did not want to draw attention to yourself. 

You briefly paused outside the entrance of the club, your eyes quickly scanning the building. It did not appear to be a typical entertainment venue, the walls covered in moss and ivy, pushing the walls back into oblivion. The only sign of life was the little light that had escaped through the cracks of the curtains, the windows stained with years of neglect. Despite the fur shawl wrapped around your shoulders, you still shivered slightly with anticipation. Who knew what this evening would bring? 

You pushed open the door, making your way inside the building. The interior was a stark contrast to what you had been met with outside. A band were stood upon the stage, their tunes mingling with the few conversations that were taking place within the room. It was well lit, the light casting off a warm and welcoming glow. It was relatively quiet in here, for a Wednesday evening, with few people sat dotted around the various tables, in groups or alone. No one paid you no mind as you made your way over to the bar, too wrapped up in their own lives, one of the many perks this place provided. 

“Two whiskeys please” you ordered as you reached the bar, smiling softly at the young boy who stood behind. He must be no younger than sixteen. Too young to get involved in the world, he had been thrust into. 

“Waiting for someone miss?” he asked out of politeness, sliding the glasses towards you. Your lips twitched slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of your mouth. He was evidently new in this world too. 

“You could say that” you stated, nodding your thanks to him as your fingers wrapped around the glasses, making your way towards one of the booths at the edge of the room. You sat down upon leather chair, placing the glasses down in front of you. Now you would wait. 

*****************************************************************************************************

ARTHURS POV. 

Arthur despised how slow time moved, the hands on the clock appearing to taunt him, as they dragged along at an excruciating pace. His eyes were focused upon it, counting down the minutes until he could leave. He shifted slightly within the armchair, the aged brown leather crying out in protest as he moved. 

“Waiting for something Arthur?” Ada sniffed, breaking Arthurs trance as she entered the room. She had offered up her home to her brothers for the evening, Tommy and John already making their excuses, having left an hour or so ago in search of the nearest pub. She flopped down on the chair opposite him, her blue eyes scanning his face, an inquisitive expression playing upon her features. 

“Nothing. Waiting to spend some time with my baby sister” Arthur responded in almost a grunt, his eyes briefly flickering over to her. Ada snorted, rolling her eyes at her brothers words. 

“Fucking bullshit Arthur. Why don’t you just go out? There’s a whore house not a mile from here you know” she stated, folding her arms as she spoke. Arthur shuffled uncomfortably under her investigative glare, his eyes glancing at the clock. 

“Fuck it. If you’re that desperate for me to leave” Arthur retorted, snatching his suit jacket from the back of the chair as he stood up. He shrugged it onto his shoulders, pulling his cap onto his head as he threw one last look at Ada, before pushing the door open.  

“Leave the key under the door mat or something” he called out, stepping out into the night. Arthur slipped his hand into his suit pocket, pulling out the sheet of paper that you had given him earlier that day. A sudden nervousness gripped at his throat, as his eyes scanned over the address, desperately thinking of a reason why he should not go, why this would be a bad idea. 

You were Alfie fucking Solomons daughter.

 Was this a good idea?

 ****************************************************************************************************

YOUR POV

 Your fingernails scratched into the sticky, worn wood of the table, as you tapped your fingers on the surface. The ice in the whiskey had long since melted, an indication of the length of time you had sat waiting. You could feel your throat anxiously tightening with every passing second. You tugged at the hem of your dress, apprehensive thoughts mocking you. 

What if Arthur never showed up?

You frowned slightly, your eyes briefly dropping down to the two whiskeys in front of you. You were never one to waste a drink. You lifted your chin up stubbornly, downing the two drinks with an air of expertise, barely grimacing as the liquid burned your throat. If Arthur Shelby didn’t want you, you would have no trouble finding someone who did. You slammed the empty glasses down on the table as you stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles that had formed on your dress. 

You hadn’t noticed the door had swung open, until a deathly silence possessed the room. You curiously glanced up, your eyes meeting Arthurs from across the room. The intensity of his ice grey stare caused your stomach to backflip, instantaneously causing your cheeks to flush a light shade of pink. The spell shattered as he looked away, his eyes scanning the room, people desperately trying to avoid his glare. 

It appeared that his reputation was well known, even here. 

Your breath caught in your throat, as he made his way over to you. 

“You’re late” you stated, flopping back down upon the chair, gesturing towards the empty whiskey glasses. You tried to put on an air of indifference, but inside it hurt. You didn’t want to admit it out loud, but you had been looking forward to seeing Arthur. You felt foolish to assume that he’d felt the same.

“I got caught up. You know how it is” Arthur grumbled, straightening out the lapels of his suit jacket as he sat beside you, before gesturing towards the bar man.  “I’ll replace the drinks”. 

You raised an eyebrow as he spoke, folding your arms across your chest. Your eyes scanned over him, a familiar sensation starting to bubble in the pit of your stomach. Fuck he looked good in a suit, but you’ll be damned if you let him know that. 

“I thought you weren’t going to come” you silently cursed yourself, as the vulnerability you felt became evident. “I thought you had forgotten all about me”. Arthurs eyes met your own, his forehead beginning to crease with a soft frown. 

“I could never forget about you”.   

 ************************************************************************** 

ARTHURS POV 

Arthur paused outside the club, double checking the slip of paper that you had given him. This was the last place he had expected to meet you, assuming that you would have opted for somewhere with a larger sense of grandeur and opulence. He smirked softly as he looked back up at the building. You were smart. Maybe he had met his match. Arthur pushed open the door and was met with a familiar blanket of silence. Of course, people knew of him, and his reputation, the cap that was placed firmly on top of his head giving away his identity. Everybody knew of the Peaky Blinders, and the tales of Arthurs murderous rage. So how come you hadn’t? 

He looked around the room for you, swallowing softly when his eyes met yours. You looked fucking incredible, a vision of beauty within the shadows. He noticed that you had stood up, the shawl around your shoulders a signal of your intention to leave. Arthur muttered a curse under his breath, hoping that he wasn’t too late, hoping that he wouldn’t let this opportunity to slip through his fingers. He turned his attention to the revellers within the room, sighing softly as they frantically turned their attention elsewhere. 

Sometimes, being Arthur Shelby was a curse. 

Arthur made his way over to you, his lips parting with the introduction of an apology, before your words interrupted his train of thought. 

“You’re late” he swallowed softly as you spoke, watching as you sat back down. He hadn’t realised he had been holding his breath, until he sighed softly in relief. Arthur pulled sheepishly at his suit jacket as he sat beside you, almost anxious to meet your eyes. 

“I got caught up. You know how it is” the words tumbled nervously out of Arthurs mouth, gesturing towards the bar tender. “I’ll replace the drinks”. 

“I thought you weren’t going to come. I thought you had forgotten all about me”. Arthur blinked at the softness of your voice, your vulnerability exposed and shining at him. He swallowed softly, his eyes meeting yours once more, failing to ignore the way his heart frantically danced as he saw his reflection shining back at him. 

“I could never forget about you” Arthur whispered, reaching forward to entangle his fingers with yours. “Let’s say we forget about this club. I want to see London through your eyes”. 

*****************************************************************************************************YOUR POV 

It was a suggestion that excited you, endless possibilities being laid at your feet from Arthurs request. You had taken Arthur through the streets where you had spent countless hours of your childhood, the places that had provided you with endless amounts of entertainment. He had followed you, listening aptly as you told him stories of your childhood. You weren’t aware of how long you had spent in each other’s company, until the edges of the sky began to turn a light shade of pink. 

“I best go” you whispered quietly, as you sat at the edge of the docks, reluctantly pulling yourself away from his arms. “I think the last thing either of us want, is questions”. 

“When will I see you again?” he asked softly, gently helping you up onto your feet. He swallowed nervously, his fingers lightly running down your cheek. 

“I will come to you. Next Monday” you replied, your cheeks flushing at his touch. You stood on your tiptoes, pressing your lips lightly against his own. 

“Wait for me Arthur”.

 You left him stood there, as you walked away, pulling your shawl tightly around you. A soft smile played upon your lips, as memories of last night flooded your mind. You and Arthur had started something beautiful, despite the odds that had been stacked against you both. You silently closed your front door behind you, your fingers lingering on the handle, as you continued to reminisce. 

“And where the fuck have ya’ been?”.

Choking On Sapphires 92

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Love Her Madly

Summary:  Alfie and Genevieve sign a contract together. Alfie finds a nostalgic turn to the air between them as they negotiate with less than professional means. They whisper about their future together, but it seems others have much louder opinions about it they want to be heard.

Warnings/Tags: FLUFF. Sexual Content. Negotiations. Old Enemies, New Problems. 

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

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Business Comes First - Chapter 10

 A Peaky Blinders fanfiction set around the end of season three.  

MASTERLIST (including parts 1-9)

Summary: Now comfortable in the bustling London scene, Alice makes an internal decision that will alter her life and character. 

Word Count: A relatively short 2,200 words- the next chapter should make up for it though. 

Author’s note: I hope everyone loves Alice as much as I love writing about her: she’s a complex being but she is beginning to find some direction. 

As always, any feedback/questions etc are much appreciated and do let me know if you wish to be tagged in any future instalments.  This blog is a side blog, so any replies will be from @bookish-fox (hopefully this will avoid any confusion!)

Tagged accounts:  @mariamermaiiid @little-miss-mischief1 @liive0urlife @peakyhoegh @chickens-are-life @birmingum @ishoutmarcoandyoushout @tenderlydeliciousthing @megatqistina @sginger1995 @cannibalcuriosity @shesgucci @zazasblogxx @fleurs-en-ruines @booktvmoviefangirl 

Warnings: Blood, death, war, PTSD, guns and language. You know, the usual. 

Your hand was stock-still, the gun aimed directly at the back of the man’s head.  Your eyes glance between Alfie’s eyes and the greying bristles on the man’s cranium.  You exhale deeply and fire the trigger.  

Alfie’s reaction was automatic, this was not the first time a gun had been directed towards him.  Immediately he ducked under the heavy wooden desk, shielding his face as he went.  He stayed there for several seconds, until the reverberations from the gunshot had completely stopped and the room was coated in an eery silence.  Slowly, he peeked over the table, he could see nothing. He rose further, expecting to see one body on the floor- to his surprise there were two.  

Sabini’s man was slumped on the floor by the desk, neck at an awkward angle revealing the extent of the damage your bullet had caused.  Blood was splattered across the floor and the furniture and a pool was forming under the casualty.  After his inspection of Sabini’s man, Alfie’s gaze turned to you.  Upon the feeling and sound of your gun firing, your body had almost completely shut down, causing you to pass out as the distant memories of times in France cascaded over your already over-worked mind.  Alfie practically jumped towards you, immediately checking your pulse with two of his ring-clad fingers pressed against your neck.  He sighed a sigh of relief when he felt the light undulation.  He knelt next you, removing his large, wooden jacket and rolling it up tight.  With upmost care, he lifted your head, and placed his jacket under it like a pillow.  He rose, grunting as his tired joints complained.  Silently and smoothly, he got to work clearing up the mess your single bullet caused.

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mischief maker: chapter 4

♥ summart: You were the youngest of the Avengers, a little shit with a penchant for teasing Steve Rogers made your life interesting, to say the least. 

♥ Word count: 4,100 

♥ pairing: steve rogers x reader

♥ Warnings: Language, age gap, violence

♥ genre: a little angst in this chapter but it ends happy!

♥ A/N: this was inspired by the lovely @venusbarnes​ Operation: Brat fic. I’m sorry this is so late! I’ve been so busy :(

As always, thanks for reading and send me an ask if you want to be tagged!

gif from chris evans twitter lol

previous chapter | masterlist

Every morning, at promptly 8 am, Steve would walk into the gym, Sam and Bucky by his side. He was always ready to go at it in the boxing ring, or lifting weights, or something. Today, though, Sam and Bucky walked in on their own, and the scowl etched on your face deepened. You slowed down the treadmill you were running on as Bucky and Sam got closer.

“Steve feeling a little under the weather?” You called, making sure your voice sounded appropriately curious and disinterested.

“He said something about paperwork. Shouldn’t you be resting? You got shot like two days ago.”  Bucky called back, and you snorted.

“Dr. Cho put me in the cradle. Said something about me being ‘too stubborn to let it heal properly the old fashioned way,’” You answered, pasting a grin on your face. You turned back to the treadmill, turning the speed up as you put your headphones back in, trying to run off the anger. The way your feet were pounding against the treadmill had to be bad for your knees, but you couldn’t be bothered to care, anger and nausea churning in your gut. 

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In The Bleak Midwinter || Part 13

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,  Part 11 & Part 12

Announcement Please See Note Below…

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Adult situations, flashbacks, mentions trauma, talk of abortion, Violence

Gif Credit: @thomasshelbyltd   @cillianmurphydaily  @peakyblindersdaily    @sikanapanele  Thank you for letting me use your beautiful gifs!

Tag: @lainey-lane​, @pindlemouse, @ thelastemzy, @helloandreabeth, @fandoms-broke-my-life,  @shelbysbushblog, @accio-witty-username, @iamtheonewhocares, @infinitelycharmed23, @kingsmanstories, @shelby-gin-limited, @taylxr0, @sympathyfortheblinderdevil, @neversleeping4am, @icebluegriffin  @johhnshelby, @ subhamamu @ unicorn-glitter-princess @thatsamegirl, @mafaldaz, @cafe-sabor-a-chocolate,  @collegecatlady,  @20th-centu-fairy-girl, @xlightning-disasterx  @niiight-dreamerrrr  @i-shouldbepainting  @dermittts  @stylesbooze

Authors Note: I really don’t like this chapter, but I give up. I’m washing my hands of it. It’s given me nothing but grief. I had high hopes for it and frankly, I think it’s cabbage. So Sorry ahead of time.

Also, when Polly mentions things being in their blood because they’re gypsies, and having some deep insight/foresight/psychic intuition. I am going purely off the character established in season four. This is in no way a reflection of actual romani cultures. And I mean absolutely no disrespect in anyway.

Announcement: 

So, I wasn’t going to say anything. I was just to switch it out and call it a day, but then I worried it might be confusing if people noticed. So I’m just gonna own it… I hated the Tommy and Fiona scene, so I changed it. I didn’t want to leave up something I didn’t love. So what that means is there will be two versions of this chapter floating around, because it’s already been reblogged (Thank you for that! You guys are the best!). So just be aware of that. If you happen to notice it, you’re not crazy, I’m owning what I did. You can decide which version of the chapter you like best. Thank you!

You can’t sleep. Your demons won’t let you rest. The threat of your impossible future haunts you into all hours of the night. Long after everyone else has succumb to sleep. You toss and turn, staring up at the ceiling, an itchy nagging feeling just under your skin until you finally give up and get out of bed. You’re running yourself a glass of water, trying not to wake the rest of the house, when you hear a noise come up from behind you in the kitchen – a creak of a board, a shuffle of movement. 

Spinning around quick, you hadn’t expected company in the dead of night like this, but you can’t say you’re surprised to find it’s Polly standing there, candle steady in her hand. Looking gorgeous as ever in her short curls and flowing nightdress against the dancing flame of the candle. You smile at her, the sight a pleasant surprise. A comforting one against the anxiousness the grips you tight tonight.

“Can’t sleep?” She asks, like a mother would to a child. Caring for you and after you in a way you haven’t experienced since you lived with your aunt Brona right after the birth of Finn.

You shake your head no, in response, placing your glass down on the counter, a forgotten thought before you’ve barely had a sip.

But Polly doesn’t mince words or opportunities as she places down the candle on the butcher’s block beside the stove and moves toward you as if she can see the anxiousness churning inside you.

“A’right then, so you’re up the duff?” She inquires without hesitation, without judgment, and the lack of reprisal on her breath and in her eyes settles some of the shame you’ve been flogging yourself with for days now.

“I believe so.” You answer quietly, eyes scanning around to ensure no one is in ear shot, but the house is quiet as a church, not even a board squeaks.

“When was your last flow?” She inquiries bluntly, getting straight to the point. Her big dark eyes holding you in the shadows that surround you both. She speaks with ease, but still her words threaten to swallow you alive with the magnitude of the answer as you muster the courage to speak.

“I don’t know.” You whisper as your face falls from hers, feeling foolish. 

You know it’s the sort of thing you should know without doubt, especially since you crawled into Tommy’s bed and never came out. A line you swore you’d never cross again after all the heartache and struggles you’ve endured to bring Finn into this world and then keep him alive. 

Even with the factory laborer, you had been careful, diligent, to do everything in your power to ensure you didn’t become pregnant. But with Tommy everything seemed so different. You were feeling things you never thought you would feel again. You thought with the tea… You see now you thought wrong.

“With John, an’ the Italians, there’s been so much… One, maybe two months. I can’t- I can’t be certain.” You admit on a shaken whisper, running a frustrated hand down your face, angry with yourself as you try to retrace it in your mind. Ever since coming to Small Heath the days have blended. Living under constant fear of death and grief, and then after Al… it’s been hard to get a good sense of time. But you know full well this is something you should have been diligently monitoring, you feel like a complete failure. 

How could you have been so foolish! One child out of wedlock is an unforgivable sin, but two and by different fathers, you feel a panic coming on just trying to imagine the kind of shame that would accompany that fate. What kind of woman that makes your morally. What kind of mother that makes you, to put Finn’s already fragile joy into jeopardy.

“Could it be iron. Have you tried tablets?” She asks, you see her running down the list of possibilities in her mind before jumping to any conclusions.

You shake your head sadly. “But it’s not just my flow… I’ve been sick lately, light headed sometimes, an’ my breasts are tender… I know what this is Pol.” You tell her, the words starting to choke you up as your throat tightens with an all too familiar fear. 

Heart pounding in your chest as you finally say the words aloud. Making them real and utterly terrifying in a way that plaguing your mind never could. You swore to yourself you’d never experience this again, never find yourself here, and yet, here you are.

“The tea didn’ work. I jus-“ Tears edge at your eyes as your voice wavers. You such in a sharp breath and pull yourself together, holding your belly tight as you force yourself to breath slowly.

“I was hopin’ you might know a woman who can help me.” Those words break your heart. You hate to say them. It’s never something you wanted. Never something you imagined doing. But you can’t do this to Finn. Destroy his world with your carelessness. And you can’t have that monster’s baby and you have no way knowing who the father is. A fact that makes your heart feel sick and leaves you shuttering harder with shame.

“The tea works. Did you forget to take?” Polly is certain, there’s no doubt in her eyes, but there is a peculiar intrigue that seems to light up in her gaze. You wish you could hold on to that same kind of certainty, but this is your body and you can feel what’s happening to it. It’s changing. There’s something inside it and no amount of debate about tea will change that.

Polly steps close to you, her hands unceremoniously reaching for your belly, pushing and palming against your stomach as your secret barely takes shape in her hand.

“No, never.” You finally answer her with a shake of your head, letting her carry out her inspection without a fuss. You swear it, you never forgot. Not once. Not something that important. Your attempts to monitor the situation may have been halfhearted at best, but your attempts to prevent it were steadfast.

Polly suddenly grabs at your breast, brief and quick as you jump a little, startled under her unexpected touch. You watch her eyes narrow with understanding as a quick huff leaves her chest before she quickly steps back.

Polly nods slowly looking you square in the eye to acknowledge the seriousness of your request. “I know a woman, but I warn you this one won’t go easy.” She smiles weakly at you.

You stare into her eyes, fear and confusion coiling and stirring about in your gut as your chest tightens with apprehension. “Why do you say that?” Almost afraid to ask.

She cups your cheeks gently in her weathered hands as she looks you square in the eye.

“Because this baby held on through that bloody match you had with the Italian and Shelby’s never go without a fight.”

Her words hit you like a shockwave, like the floor being ripped out from under you. Tears spring to your eyes with the implication. Your chest suffocating as it pulls in around your heart. “How do you know that? How can you be certain?”

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Innocence Lost - Tommy Shelby

Part 8 of Gods + Monsters series || 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 

You stood in an empty restaurant on a busy street in London. The drapes had been pulled on all the windows and there were men stationed at the doors. Tommy sat in the middle of the room, with two men. Usually, Tommy had said before hand, he would’ve brought his own back-up, but John was still laid up and Arthur was with him. So it was just Tommy and you, standing by a door and trying to shrink back into the wall. This was somehow more intimidating than the club the other night. 

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Lies Travel Faster Part Two: Chapter One

Here it is lovely friends. Thank you to all the folks who have requested a LTF Part Two–it’s given me LIFE!! Read Part One here!!

Summary: Sophia Murphy’s past is coming for her. Can she outrun it?

Tags: Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Warnings: angst; smut; violence; language; rape/non-con; death

CHAPTER 1

Sophie took the hill, putting her weight on the stirrups and directing Belle to sprint at full speed. In a matter of minutes, she found herself pulling back on the reins to stop just shy of the summit.

She dismounted to take in the view.

As much as she’d not wanted to leave him, she was glad she’d come home.

The familiar ridges and valleys still resonated with her, leaving her heart heavy with nostalgia for her previous life. The land had changed dramatically since she’d last stood there, but it was achingly familiar–still very much a part of her soul.

The truth is, she’d wanted to return to America. To find a piece of herself she’d lost. To regain something she felt had been taken from her.

To seek revenge.

But she hadn’t expected to want to stay.

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BYBIBUCKY’S MASTERLIST

updated: September 22th, 2019

Bucky Barnes

Give Me All - Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 

Shocking - Prologue 

Little Lies (Part Fifteen)

Pairings: Steve x Reader // Bucky x Reader // Slight Natasha x Reader // Slight OC x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Implied Smut, WLW & Bisexuality, Dubious Consent, 18+

Summary: You went to Bucky when you wanted punishment. He’d be rough with you because he understood your self-loathing, and he’d leave bruises on your hips that wouldn’t go away for a week. You loved it. He didn’t.

You went to Steve when you wanted reassurance. You went to him because he liked to whisper sweet, sweet things into your ear as he made love to you. He’d tell you that you were perfect and amazing and beautiful. Then you’d get your fill, just far too much of it. He cared too much.

It all came to a head when the three of you went on a mission together. You’d done it a hundred times, even during this mess of a situation, and still neither of them was any the wiser. Your little lies always slipped right through the cracks - until one night, they didn’t.

Part Fourteen / Master List

Tony definitely followed the limousine back here that night. Over the past three days, your hunch was only further confirmed when you caught glimpses of him in the sky every now and then. He was always way, way high up in the clouds, almost unnoticeable; in fact, you only noticed because you were purposely looking for him.

Now, he’d just flown by again. It was unfortunate that you hadn’t had a chance to call him out on it yet. You didn’t want him to get hurt.

Luckily, you finally had a minute to yourself, so you used it wisely.

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the face that launched a thousand ships (4/10)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3,114

summary: In a land not-so-faraway, the daughter of Prince Anthony Stark has been heralded as the most beautiful woman in the world.  Men have gone as far as kidnapping her to try to take her for themselves.  But, her cousin, King Steve, has an idea.  One that involves his best friend and the King of his nation’s greatest ally, James.

chapter warnings: bad words

masterlist

a/n:  I love writing soft!Bucky so much.  Let me know what y’all think!

“Do you think we need a sash?”

You raised your eyebrows as you stared at yourself in the mirror as the royal seamstress, Emilia, pricked and prodded at the dress you were currently donning.  The white fabric of what was to be your wedding dress fell to your feet like a waterfall.

“No, I think we can do without a sash,” Natasha said from where she was sitting off to the side.  It was strange how well she could read your mind, knowing that you would absolutely loathe a sash.  “Though…” She stood up and wandered over to where you stood on a platform.  “I think the straps should be off-the-shoulder.  To show off the princess’s lovely neck.”

Emilia stared long and hard at the dress.  The corset was tied as tightly as it could go, presenting your décolletage for everyone to see.  She then grabbed a pair of scissors from her apron and cut at the sleeves to create crude straps that hung on your upper arms.  “I’ll have to fix it up a bit, but I do think it’ll give it that little extra something we’ve been searching for,” she said with a warm smile.

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Trepidation  {One-Shot}

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re rescued from HYDRA by the Avengers, only to be met with a ghost of the past in the form of Bucky Barnes. They tell you he was brainwashed, that it wasn’t him, but you aren’t so sure.

Warnings: Minimal violent descriptions, fluff? lil bit of angst but not really. Cussing.

A/N: Just a one-shot I’ve been working on for a while… im gonna say i wrote this for @jupiterbucky because I yelled ur ear off about this hahahaha

They found you on a ship in the baltic sea. HYDRA, of course. You’d been shoved in some dark, dank cell, shaking and filthy when they’d discovered you.

Actually, Bucky had found you first, which proved not to be the best thing, because the moment you’d looked up at him, you’d moved faster than he’d seen anybody move in his life, slamming yourself in the farthest corner and whimpering.

It had been a blow to his self-esteem for sure, but he was far more worried about getting you out safely.

He’d called Nat.

When the redhead had arrived, he’d made his exit from the lower decks, only sticking around to make sure there was nobody left standing that had done this to you

On the jet, Nat had sat you as far away as possible from him and Bucky had decided to sit in one of the pilot’s seats, just so maybe you could relax not seeing his face.

Yeah, that definitely stung.

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In Your Atmosphere (Part Eight)

Pairings: Steve x Reader & platonic Bucky x Reader (mostly)

Warnings: PTSD / Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Anxiety Disorder, Panic Attacks, Mental Health Issues, Survivor Guilt, Eventual Smut 18+

Summary: The first time you met Steve Rogers, he kissed the hell out of you. It wasn’t the first time he met you.

Part Seven / Master List

—

For a little while, you and Sam continued to tease each other about your sparring match. It wasn’t meant to be malicious, but to give each other some impartial feedback. He pointed out your tendency to favour your right side, particularly your kicks, and you told him that his grappling could use some work.

You didn’t notice that Steve had poured you a coffee until he casually sat it down on the counter in front of you, steam rising from the top of the white mug. You blinked at it, and then at him, before a bright smile came across your face. It was such a simple thing - domestic, really - but it made your heart flutter.

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Hardcopy

A Sebastian Stan Twin AU

A/N: This will most likely be the last chapter posted on tumblr, it’s depressing and discouraging and it’s not good for me. I know I said I’d post it all here, and maybe I will once it’s all over and I don’t have to care anymore, but for now I can’t do it. Ao3 has a lot of issues, I’m not too fond of that either, but it’s less visible to me since I’m here every day and there once a week tops. 

Also I tried something new in terms of structure, hope it works.

Anyways, I really hope you enjoy. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks.

The editor is, as per, the lovely @mischief-in-mirkwood who also is responsible for the picture. Thank you so much, babe. You are literally the fucking best.

Chapter 13

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 please read them first

By: @lowkeysebastianstan

Word Count: 8219

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: 1st Person POV, Internal Monologuing Like There’s No Tomorrow, Slow Burn, Smut, And Some Fluff, Maybe a Little Angsty Fluff. And Some Angsty Angst. Cat :). Oh, and language.

Seb and Alex. Photo: LK

My head was spinning when I saw the number float in front of my eyes, and I wanted to hurl the phone across the room. Stunned didn’t cover it, I felt in shock, I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around it. FUUUCK! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, F—I tried to stop my hand from shaking and restart any mental facilities I might still possess, but I was still unable to decide on an action. FUCK! GET A GRIP! GET A GRIP! The image of Sebastian Stan kissing someone—me, it was me —on the street, of Alex’ dejected form as I walked out the door, of Seb across from me at breakfast, of Alex leaning back on the couch above me—a literal series of greatest hits flashed before my eyes, fuckfuckfuck, and I jolted back to life and hit answer.

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Who You Sellin’ For? -6

Pairing: (Bodyguard) Steve Rogers x Musician OFC (Addison Schmidt) x (bodyguard) Bucky Barnes | Word Count: 2.2k | Warnings: 18+ through entire fic for drug use, alcohol use, language, sexual content, dark themes. | A/N: I’M BACK! This might be trash, just trying to figure out where I want to go from. After this chapter there’s gonna be a time skip so this is just a transition chapter. I had to get this out to get past the word block. | MASTERLIST

Take Me Down

“What the hell is happening in here?”

Tony’s voice shook both Bucky and Steve awake from where they had dozed off in Addison’s bed. At the very least, in Bucky’s opinion, Addison was no longer in the bed with them and they hadn’t drifted towards each other like they normally would have and were in a compromising position. They were still a body width apart from each other, phones fallen forgotten on their chests, as Layne sat on the floor in just a black bralette and thong. She had a large black permanent marker in her hand and was scrawling random sentences across the baby blue paint of her walls. Her arms and legs and midriff were also covered in permanent marker.

Steve rocketed out of the bed, while Bucky was slow to rouse like every other time he woke up. Layne paused mid word and looked back at her uncle with wild eyes that were red from the blood vessels she burst at some point when throwing up. To both men’s great relief, she had the pitcher of water sitting on the ground next to her and it was only a quarter full.

Picking up her glass she chugged it down all while maintaining a disturbing amount of eye contact with her uncle. “So like…do you knock or naw?” Addison asked, her voice raw, when she drained her glass.

“I did. Twice. Loudly,” Tony argued, tearing his gaze from his niece and back towards the men that were supposed to be her bodyguards in disbelief and exasperation.

Steve went over to her dresser and opened drawers until he found one full of shirts and found one that seemed more like a shirt dress than shirt. “Addison, here, put this on please.” Steve held it out to the blonde girl and she looked at him with confusion and knitted brows.

“No, I’m too hot and I need some of these,” she stated, motioning down at the sentences on her body, before going back to the writing on the walls.

“Addison, put on the goddamn shirt,” Bucky groused, pulling his hair up in a half bun while he waited to get chewed out by Tony.

Tony’s eyes were flicking between the three of them before they finally narrowed behind their red tinted lenses and his lips pursed in a fine line. “Addison,” Tony said firmly. She sighed heavily and whipped her head around.

“I’m trying to fucking work here,” she snapped angrily, a red flush high on her cheeks.

“Addison, I need you to meet us down in the living room in five minutes. I have news on the album and also the legal team, so please put your shirt on.”

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A Scarlet Dream III

Masterlist

Gif Credit: princeubbe

A/N: If you have trouble reading Read More, please contact support. You can also hit a reblog from someone else or open this in safari to read. I’m told that the issue seems to be with individual blogs.

The rules were what they were.

On the first day of heat, Ubbe was to sit with his good book and banish the hellish desires from his body. On the second day, he was to make love to Margrethe; his rightful wife. On the third, oh the third, he was allowed to give into these carnal desires and ravage her body for sons, most preferably.

But the bible was trembling under his knee.

“Ubbe.” Margrethe was speaking, offering him more black coffee. He took the cup from her, the sear of hot porcelain against his fingers doing nothing to cool him in this state. The protrusion of his shaft against his dark work trousers was distracting enough– but made worse when she slid around him. Her fingers were like spokes, poking and prodding him when his state was poor enough to begin with.

“What is that?” She accuses him.

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Liberosis [3/3]

My Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Telekinetic Reader Prompt: Cheap Sunglasses Word count: 4,707 Warnings: None. Summary: Prequel to Fata Organa. Adopted into Avengers Tower, you develop your powers and learn more than you bargained for. 

Written for @barnesrogersvstheworld‘s Marvel kiss writing challenge! 

Fata Organa [Part 1] || Redamancy [Part 2]

Liberosis n. the desire to care less about things—to loosen your grip on your life, to stop glancing behind you every few steps, afraid that someone will snatch it from you before you reach the end zone—rather to hold your life loosely and playfully, like a volleyball, keeping it in the air, with only quick fleeting interventions, bouncing freely in the hands of trusted friends, always in play.

It’s raining the day you arrive at Avengers Tower. Your security clearance must have been lost in the mail - figuratively, of course, because everything Stark Industries is paperless - and so you’re left in the growing storm outside while the AI, the famous Jarvis, contacts Pepper Potts to clarify that you’re supposed to be there.

By the time you’re allowed in, you’re soaked. And not exactly in a chipper mood.

You throw off the hood of you sweater as you stride towards the elevator, raindrops splattering the fancy floor of the foyer. It’s empty. Then again, it is seven a.m. on a Saturday.

“Welcome to Avengers Tower, miss.” You half-jump from your skin as a cool voice in the elevator greets you. “Miss Potts will see you right away.”

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Howler & the Black Cat [11/11]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 30k Warnings: Vague mentions of icky things, a few games of tonsil hockey and mentions of whoopee. Summary: By day, you’re just another employee at Stark Tower. By night? A justice-seeker known as Black Cat. No one knows your secret, and certainly not your sometime partner in vigilante activity, sometime-pain in the butt Romeo, Howler. But no matter how hard he tries, you have no intention of giving in…

Several days later.   Your fingers curl over the ledge of the roof as you lay on your stomach, peering below into the dark alley. Thanks to your special contacts, you can see perfectly: a group of thugs, exchanging something in heavy black duffel bags. Bucky’s guess had been guns - yours had been heirloom jewels. It’s unlikely, you know - but his laugh had been worth it.   Glancing up, you catch Bucky’s eyes from across the alley - he’s lying on the roof across from you, observing the scene from his own perspective. A roll of thunder from the sky makes you shiver. This will have to be finished fast if you want to get inside before the rain starts. Bucky gives a short nod, and you send him a thumbs up.   You crouch forward on your feet, keeping an eye down below - no one has noticed anything suspicious - and twist ‘round to start rappelling down the side of the building at the same time as Bucky. So being partners in crime - or partners in preventing crime - has had its advantages. You’ve been spending less time jumping from fire escapes, that’s for sure.   The voices of the thugs get louder the further down you go - they seem to be arguing. That’s good for yours and Bucky’s appearance. Only one story above them, you pause, peering over your shoulder at the scene below. Now there’s shoving and shouting. Too bad for them. Great for you. You strain your neck further, and meet Bucky’s eyes. He’s grinning as he signals to drop.   Easy peasy. Loosen belt, twist through the air, and a perfectly timed, arched landing on the shoulders of one of the thugs. He shrieks, but it turns to a strangled cry as your taser claws bite into his neck. He shudders, and falls to the ground as you jump slightly to land on your feet.   Stark knows his tech, that’s for sure.

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Recruit - Upstate New York

MINI-SERIES

Description: Fury gives Bucky a simple mission that’s also guaranteed to be impossible. But Bucky refuses to give up.

Pairing: Bucky x Fem/Reader - Enhanced

Word Count: 6,263

Recruit - Masterlist

Previous Chapter: Tokyo

Banner Artwork by @steve-rogers-personal-hell​

Bucky smirked as Steve once again got slammed to the ground by Natasha.

She was showing them some techniques of her’s. Yes, Bucky and Steve were well-versed in multiple styles of fighting. But Nat had a style that was no easily replicated. She used her body in a way Steve and Bucky had never even attempted.

Bucky was watching from the side to fully observe the move Nat executed on Steve. This also required that he eventually helped his friend off the ground.

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Give Me All - Pt. 5

Bucky Barnes x reader Modern AU

     After a series of disappointing wanna-be doms, you give this last one a chance and he not only makes you forget every man you’ve ever been with but also your own name.

     word count: 4.6k

     warnings: smut (18+ please), language, daddy kink, BDSM, phone sex, masturbation, sex toys, a hint of breath play, anal play, knife play

A/N: now that my assignment about Mozarts is finished and I’ve stopped having a stress-induced out of body experience, it’s time to upload more smutty things with our favourite dom

“Bucky?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“I’m bisexual.” Where that came from, you had no idea. It just slipped out, you hadn’t even seen it coming.

In the beat of icy silence that followed, Bucky stared at you and you thought it was disappointment that he felt, ready to be rejected like you had been several times before.

“You mean…” he trailed off.

You nodded. “I also like girls.”

He put his tablet to the side before he gathered you on his lap. “Thank you for telling me.” He could sense this was a touchy subject to you from the way you were so tense before and melted in his arms.

“Thank you for not being an ass about it,” you murmured into his neck.

He put some distance between the two of you, though still remained close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. “Why would I be an ass about it?” he asked, confused, “it’s a perfectly normal thing.”

You shrugged. “Many people are.”

Bucky’s features softened. “Well, I’m not.” He smiled. “Wanna watch a movie?”

The movie had already been left unnoticed when the logos were still on the screen but neither of you complained. You had changed positions on the couch so Bucky had his tongue on your clit and cock down your throat as you lay across him. Steve had left a few days ago and now you both relished in christening every surface in Bucky’s apartment.

::::::::::

“Ah, before I forget it.” Bucky turned back around, away from the door. “I left something in your room. A black velvet box and you are not allowed to touch it until I get back.”

You frowned. “Why give it to me now then?”

He grinned wickedly. “Because I love teasing you,” he said, giving you a kiss to the cheek and leaving.

You looked out the window after him until his car left your driveway and you loved the sight. He was in one of his black suits, which he usually wore at work, and it wasn’t noticeable to the untrained eye but underneath, he had a variety of weapons clad to his body. You had watched him strap on the holsters around his ankles and hips, and the ones hidden by his suit jacket, just an hour ago. He had a knife in each sleeve of the jacket, too, and you wondered how he didn’t cut himself with every move. But Bucky Barnes knew how to handle weapons.

He also knew how to handle you and you had come to find that he took both jobs very seriously. Not that there was any surprise in the matter. He took everything he did seriously and with the way he took full responsibility in every scene you did and whenever he knew you were giving up your inhibitions to become putty in his hands. It was why you weren’t afraid to lose yourself, to fully let go. You trusted him. Maybe with your life even but you weren’t fond of ever having to find that out.

And he was gone for a day when you started to miss him. This mission, as he sometimes called it, would have him working all of three weeks. Some celebrity wanted to go on vacation for a bit so he had to go with them.

Now, it was only Tuesday. Though already the second one. Somehow, it had ended up feeling much longer than expected – for the both of you. You had gone to work and lunch break and then to work again and then home every day but the whole time, you knew very well that you couldn’t just go to his house or on a date with him. It was boring, to say the least.

You were getting desperate, as well. Of course, he had given you the rule that you weren’t allowed to touch yourself at all. And because, weeks ago, you had found the loophole that rubbing yourself on your pillow or sitting under the bath faucet wasn’t technically ‘touching’, Bucky had specified this time that no masturbating of any kind were to take place. You hated him but you loved him. It entailed that your orgasms would be that tad more intense and he had promised a nice, long scene in Tony’s club when he got back.

But the prospect of all that didn’t help ease the ache between your legs. And obviously, it didn’t get better during the curse of the week. Especially when Bucky sent you pictures of himself.

Daddy please, you texted him instantly, you’re torturing me. You knew it was pointless to beg but you tried anyway.

That’s the plan, baby girl, he replied and shut off his phone again.

He had his phone turned off during work as to not get distracted. Only at night did he have the time to relax. He’d used this to get a hand around himself in order to blow off some steam.

This Tuesday, though, he didn’t want to do it alone. He needed your voice to get off. Your moans and whimpers always got him so hard and tonight, he had to hear just that.

On top of that, your begging against the rules left him impatient but desperate times called for desperate measures.

:::::

“Daddy,” you whimpered into the phone when you picked up his call.

“Mmh, baby girl,” he groaned, happy to hear your voice for the first time in exactly four days, “how are you?”

It was a nice thing to say but weren’t here for a casual conversation. “Aching, daddy.”

He hummed. “I bet you are,” he said, “same with me.”

You whined. “Daddy.” On the other end of the line, you were rubbing your thighs together, trying to keep yourself from sneaking a hand in between. That morning, you had woken up rutting against the mattress, instantly disappointed with yourself.

“I know, baby,” Bucky said softly, “if you’re good for me and follow my lead, you’ll get a reward today.”

You inhaled sharply. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Tell me, what are you wearing?”

“Panties and a shirt you gave me,” you whispered.

“Mhm, I bet you look gorgeous.”

It wasn’t a question and you didn’t reply.

“Push up your shirt, get your nipples nice and hard for me,” he instructed and you obliged immediately.

“They’re already hard, daddy,” you said.

Bucky chuckled. “I’d love to bite them like this, get you desperate. Use your fingers, baby. Pretend they’re my teeth.”

“May I put the phone on speaker?”

“Are you alone right now?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Then you yes, you may.”

You tapped the button and threw your phone to the side to get your fingers on you as quickly as possible. The moment you pinched your nipples hard, as hard as he would if he were there with you, you moaned deeply, sensitive due to abstinence.

“You like that, kitten?” He was touching himself as well, palming his hard cock through his boxers.

“Oh God, so much.” You pinched and pulled, rubbed and twisted your aching buds, your panties drenched by now.

“Go on, baby, get your fingers wet for me.”

The index and middle finger of your right hand went up to your mouth and you opened wide, pretending they were his larger ones. You absolutely loved sucking on his fingers, always knowing where they were going to end up next.

A bit of drool dribbled down from the corner of your mouth with the way you eagerly worked your fingers, pushing them in and out, licking them.

Bucky could hear the wet noises you made and knew you were ready.

“Put them on your nipples again, tease them for me,” he instructed and pulled himself out of his boxers.

“Oh, daddy,” you whined at the feeling but you ached to use your dripping fingers on something else, something more south.

By now, he was full-on tugging on his cock, getting closer to release with every minute that passed by. You could his quickened breathing through the phone and your hips bucked upward into nothing.

“Please, let me touch my pussy.”

“You’re desperate, aren’t you?” You could also hear the chuckle he made before you could even answer. “Beg.”

At his demand, the words flew out of your mouth. “Daddy, please. I need to touch myself, Sir. Shit, daddy, please.”

He let you hang for another minute before, “go on, nice and slow circles on your clit for me. Through your panties.”

You moaned loudly with the first touch.

“That’s it, baby,” Bucky growled on the other end of the line. “I’m so close.”

You nodded hastily although he couldn’t see you but your words had escaped you. All you could think of was that sweet release. He wasn’t there in the room with you but you could feel his hands all over your body, coaxing your closer and closer.

Both his breathing and the breathy sounds he made grew more and more erratic until he told you, “fuck, I’m coming,” and spilt his seed over his hands and abdomen.

You were so, so close yourself, riding the edge like a pro. But he hadn’t told you to come so you had no other choice.

“You were so good,” he cooed with a lazy smile on his lips, “helping me get off. You get your reward now.”

But you couldn’t believe your ears at his next words. Almost with tears in your eyes, your bucking hips came to an abrupt halt. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said sternly, although also very much amused. You were beginning to think you were only ever going to have an orgasm in his presence. “Go to your dresser and open the present I gave you.”

“But-”

“It’s your reward for being such a damn good girl.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him for too long, you’d do close to anything for him if it would make him call you that. “You’re going to be the fucking death of me,” you sighed and pulled your shirt back into place.

“Have you opened it yet?” Bucky sounded a lot sleepier than he had before.

“On it.” You scrambled off the bed over to your dresser where the small package sat exactly like it had since he had placed it there. Inside was a golden key. You gasped. “Is this…?”

“Yep,” he replied casually, although this was actually a big step forward, “So you can walk in an out whenever you please. You already have a few clothes and a toothbrush there, this was the only thing missing.”

You were at a loss for words. “Thank you,” was all you managed, “thank you so much.”

::::::::::

The idea had been to properly show him how grateful you were and how much you cared for him with a surprise. It was rather easily put into reality, too. A few candles – safe to play with, of course; you’d just hope you wouldn’t forget to put them out before it got too heated – dimmed lights and you kneeling on the soft carpet of the living room.

His bag unceremoniously hit the floor before Bucky was fully through the door.

“Doll?” he asked, initially confused at the sight of you. Of course, he was intrigued within a moment of studying your kneeling form. You were wearing his favourite lingerie and your hair up in a braid, just how he liked it. “What’s this?”

“What does it look like to you?” you countered.

He arched an eyebrow. “Sassy, are we?”

You bowed your head, closing your eyes. This was going to be fun. “I’m sorry.”

Bucky snorted out a small laugh. “Yeah, right.”

Slowly, he started to circle you. When he came to a halt in front of you, he traced his fingers underneath your chin to lift it.

“I missed you,” he murmured and leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “And I brought a few presents.”

You shook your head. “You’ve already given me so much.”

“These are for both of us, darling,” he said with a smirk and dropped to his knees. He pulled you onto his lap, making you straddle his waist. “For every orgasm you give me, you get a present.” His big hands on your hips pulled you against him. “Give it all you got, baby.”

And you rolled your hips like it was your last act on earth, desperate to be good for him, desperate to get off.

“Bucky,” you whimpered when your cunt dragged over his hardened middle, offering the perfect pressure.

He stopped your movements instantly. “What do you call me?” Bucky’s voice was stern and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Daddy.”

“That’s right,” he said, pleased now, “you can move.”

You rolled your hips again, faster this time, using his shoulders as leverage. With every thrust, you pulled yourself closer and closer. Whispering his title, the question whether you were allowed to come was on your lips but Bucky beat you to it.

Wrapping a hand around your braid, he pulled your head back to expose your throat to him. “Come for me, baby girl,” he said and leant down to suck a bruise to your skin.

You shuddered in his hands as you came hard and long from all the suspense he had put you through and even worked yourself through the orgasm with desperate force, aching to feel more of it.

“That’s it, kitten,” he whispered, “so good. You get your first gift now.” As he reached behind himself, twisting a bit to see better, you fumbled with the buttons of his shirt trying to get it off. “No, no, leave it, baby.”

You wanted to protest but knew better than to open your mouth against him right now, not wanting to risk not finding out what he had brought.

Bucky took one of your hands and you watched in amazement as he strapped a leather handcuff to your wrist. It was thick and wide and felt oddly comfortable with the cushion on in the inside.

“Is this okay?” he asked, “not too tight?”

You shook your head. “I love it.”

He grinned at you with an essence of pride in him you fought to bring out every time you were like this.

Then, he took your other hand and did the same after guiding them behind your back. It made you almost push your breasts flush into his face as he reached around you, not that you were trying to hold back.

Whilst he was down there, he continued his mission to make you melt under his touch by gently kissing and biting your skin. No doubt, you would have bruises all over your chest and neck in a few minutes but they would become a reminder of what you were doing right now. You arched your back to offer him more skin to reach and he gingerly used this new access to move down to one of your nipples. There, it grew hotter and rougher and within seconds, he pulled on the bud with his teeth, forcing a moan out of you. Your bound hands behind your back fought the restrains as you longed to bury your fingers in his hair, making him stay where he was as he carried on his sweet assault.

“Daddy!” you shrieked when he wrapped a hand around your braid and pulled, hard. You fell backwards and almost into the carpet, had it not been for his other hand, the one he held tightly around your waist, that kept you mostly upward.

The rush of adrenaline caused by his action shot straight to your aching core and you couldn’t help but rock your hips forward into his.

He chuckled darkly around your nipple before detaching himself from it. “Baby, if you liked that you’ll love what I have planned,” he said, “but I need another orgasm from you to make it happen.

Bucky gave you no time to process his words or answer before he had pulled a knife from the back of his jeans, just like the first time you’d been together, and ran it across your thighs, careful not to cut you when he reached the edge of your thong and ripped the garment into pieces. Your body shuddered in his grasp, you couldn’t stop yourself, and it earned you a sharp slap to the thigh.

“Keep still or I stop.” His voice rumbled with a deepness to it that told you – had you not felt him nudging against your ass – that he was painfully hard in his jeans.

You nodded weakly and forced yourself to let him continue. Within a few moments, he had torn your thong to shreds, followed by your bra, and thrown them off to the side together with the knife and gave you no warning before he thrust two fingers deep into your cunt, instantly searching out your g-spot.

A scream fell past your lips and he caught on, hitting his target every time he drove his fingers in and out of you.

It was almost embarrassing how close you were already but Bucky wanted you to be. “Baby, come on.”

“Daddy, fuck,” you rambled, high-pitched breathless, “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Ah, so good, daddy.”

“Yeah?” he asked, “then come, baby. Come for daddy.”

And you did, although it took you a few more thrusts before you came all over his fingers, suddenly spreading the wetness that gushed out of you.

The sight made Bucky let out a surprised moan. You had come not only on his fingers but soaked both his jeans and parts of his shirt. “Did you just squirt?” he asked disbelievingly.

But you were too far gone to actually process his words and offer anything other than a weak, “mhmm.”

His face spread out in a cocky grin. “You’re so gonna do that again, I’ll make sure this wasn’t the last time,” he said, “so hot. You get two presents now.”

Your eyes followed his hands as they reached into the bag again.

Whilst you recognised one of the items as a brand new anal plug, a heart-shaped pink one this time, you couldn’t fully identify what seemed to be a metal chain of sorts.

“What would you like first, baby girl?” he asked you in that deep tone of his that had you trembling.

“Plug, please,” you mumbled and Bucky nodded.

From somewhere in his travel bag, he pulled out a small bottle of lube and coated his fingers with it after he had made you lie back on the carpet, lower half still propped up on his lap.

With the other hand, he nudged your legs open for better access. Bucky circled your hole a few times before he pushed his middle finger in to the first knuckle. “Relax, baby. I’ve got you.”

You closed your eyes and complied, allowing him to pump his finger in and out a couple of times.

When you let out your first moan, he retracted his fingers and coated the plug with a new amount of lube.

“Look at me, pet,” he said, “I want to see your eyes.”

And the moment you locked eyes, he pushed the plug in with one steady move and your jaw fell slack. Bucky grinned a cocky grin as he wiped his hands dry on his jeans and tapped the base of the plug with his knuckles, making you squirm again.

“Mhm, that’s what I like to see,” he said, “a good girl on my lap, silently begging.”

You whined shamelessly, aching for his hands on your body.

Bucky chuckled. “What do you want?”

“Daddy,” you breathed. It made you realise how far under you actually were. Usually, you felt normal until Bucky asked you a question and you had trouble gathering the words and making your tongue cooperate. This was more. “Touch me.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Touch me what?”

You licked your lips to be able to form the words better. “Please. Touch me please, daddy.”

“That’s more like it.” He ran his hands up and down your inner thighs. Then, he turned his attention to the other thing he had pulled out of the bag. When he untangled the little chain, you recognised what it was. Nipple clamps.

Bucky pulled you back up into a seating position on his lap, the plug lightly rubbed over his legs and you let out a helpless moan.

“Daddy, fuck.”

He had you soaking his pants with more of your wetness when he leant down to suck at one of your nipples. The other he circled with his knuckles. He replaced them with a clamp and your breath got caught in your throat. It hurt. It hurt a lot and you knew it would be constant until he’d take them off again but you loved every bit of it.

Your other nipple was released with the tiniest wet noise and he attached the clamp there as well and you could only watch as he experimentally tugged on the little chain, drawing a moan out of you.

“Colour?”

“Green,” you hummed, eyes closed in bliss.

Bucky captured your lips in a deep kiss that had your mind swimming even more. At the small of your back, your hands held tightly onto each other, desperate to touch something, anything.

“I need another orgasm, kitten.”

Without much of a warning, he pushed to fingers of his right hand into your pussy and placed his thumb on your clit. “Move,” was all he said. He was making you work for this one again. It was one of his favourite things to do. Torturing you by having you chase your own orgasm, not allowed to touch, only taking whatever he was giving you and getting nothing at the same time.

So, you moved. You rocked your hips a couple of times before you found an angle and a rhythm. And Bucky knew you had it when whined and rocked harder and faster, whispering his title like a prayer.

He kissed your throat again, eager to leave more marks to remind you both of this time, this reunion after ages apart. Then, he reached for the chain between your breasts and gestured for you to put it between your teeth. It made the feeling sting even more as it inevitably pulled with every move of your hips. You couldn’t get enough.

Despite this being your third orgasm and having been barely touched, in comparison to other times you had with him, you came embarrassingly fast. Head falling onto his shoulder, you almost sobbed into his shirt as you came around his fingers. The thumb on your clit coaxing you through it and helping down when the waves eventually ebbed.

“You’re so good, baby,” he whispered into your ear, “so, so good for me. Making daddy proud.”

You had no energy left to verbally react, so you merely nodded into the crook of his neck, breathing deeply, breathing in his scent.

“Last present, baby,” he said, “you up for it?”

You hummed in response.

Bucky pulled you flush to his chest with one arm and reached for the bag with his other. “This is a big one, baby,” he whispered against your lips once he was close enough.

“Is it your cock?” you asked dumbly. It pulled a surprised laugh out of him.

“No, baby. I meant metaphorically speaking.” His fingertips gently ran over the base of your skull before he tipped your head backwards. He asked for your colour just in case but your answer remained the same, so he kissed your neck again, so softly, this time, you almost didn’t feel it in your headspace.

What you definitely did feel, though, was when some unfamiliar fabric touched your skin there. You jumped slightly at the sudden contact and searched for his eyes.

“Do you remember our first scene where I told you I was gonna put a collar on you?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“I got you one.”

With a sharp intake of breath, your eyes widened when you saw it. It was what seemed to be expensive leather with a clasp. In the middle, the two leather strips met in a silver heart-shaped ring. It was going to sit right in the middle of your throat and make you look so pretty. You longed to touch it.

“Can I?” he asked almost nervously.

You gave him permission with a silent nod and closed your eyes so you could only feel the leather touch your skin for the first time. And it was a completely new sensation. You knew what it felt like to have his hand around your throat but this? This was entirely different on such a high level of both intimacy and trust, and it was all you ever wanted.

He didn’t even get the change to ask if you were okay with it when you hummed in approval at the feeling.

Bucky ghosted his fingers over the material absent-mindedly. “So pretty,” he cooed, “you look so good. I wanna ravish you.”

“Then do it,” you challenged. “Daddy,” was an addition for good measure.

With a smirk, he had set you back onto the carpet and stood up above you, telling you to follow him with a gesture of his finger. “Strip.”

Reluctantly, you rid yourself of what was left of your lingerie set, meaning stockings and the garter, the only things that had survived, and waited for more instructions.

He cocked his head to the side. “I want you against the wall,” he decided.

And so you found yourself, less than a minute later, in his arms getting pushed flush up against the wall, legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Your arms were painfully trapped in between but you couldn’t care less. His lips were on you even before that. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me,” Bucky panted as he aligned himself with your entrance and inched inside. Both of you let out your separate noises of relief and bliss as you felt yourself adjust to his width and length. With a weak but determined buck of your hips, you told him to move.

Bucky didn’t fuck you with the same relentless passion that he usually did in a scene but it was fast nonetheless and felt so, so fucking good.

“God, shit. Daddy.” You were borderline hoarse from moaning and it only grew worse when he reached up to slip a finger under your collar and pull from behind. All of a sudden, your vision was swimming in the best way possible as air flowed into you more slowly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

It spurred Bucky on. He sped up his pace and worked you both to the finish line.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” you whined and whimpered even against the restraint.

“I need you to come, baby,” he grunted, “I’m so fucking close.”

You nodded as a sign that you were close yourself. Pulling him closer into you with your legs around his hips, his pelvic bone brushed hard against your clit and it was all you needed to get lost in your orgasm. With a scream, your walls fluttered around him, driving him mad with pleasure.

“Shit, fuck.” Bucky’s thrusts grew sloppy as he spilt himself inside you for the first time in weeks.

It took you both a while to get down from that high. But when you did, you were sitting on the couch, candles around you long burned down, breathing heavily into each other until Bucky spoke up once more, “you know, those candles are giving me an idea.”

The Woodsman - 3

Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: A/B/O Fairy Tale - You’re a sheltered, thirty-something princess on the run from your brother, the newly crowned ‘Mad King’ of France. When you’re waylaid by marauders and left for dead in the forest, a gruff woodsman nurses you back to health.

Warnings: A/B/O smut, knotting, language, violence, assault, non-con

Word Count: 32,000

The entire story is complete and available now on Patreon. subscribe for a pledge of $2.50 a month and get access to this and other Patreon exclusive content.

-

Despite his animosity toward you, Sam is a better man than any you’ve come across before. You believe his words, you trust with all your heart that he would protect you if the situation arose.

He deserves the truth.

“My father, King Henry, died last year.” You look down to your lap, wringing your hands together.

Keep reading

me and my friends dancing to “mr. brightside” 

could you explain the post about shoelaces and presidents? it would be greatly appreciated thank you

Sure! Do you mean this post?

So, it started in a post in 2012 (or earlier, I don’t know the exact date). As the Urban Dictionary entry explains, you would say “I like your shoelaces” in public as a sort of secret code if you suspect there’s another Tumblr user there. And if there is another Tumblr user, they would reply “Thanks, I stole them from the president” to let you know they understood the message and are, in fact, a Tumblr user. 

I don’t think people do this anymore, and if they ever did, it probably wasn’t a very common thing to do. Maybe they did back in 2012 when the post was recent and Tumblr wasn’t as popular as it is now. 

I also don’t think there’s any deeper meaning to the phrases. “I like your shoelaces” seems like a pretty common and nice thing to say, and if it turns out the person you thought was a Tumblr user doesn’t recognise the ‘secret message’, nothing would happen. But then “Thanks, I stole them from the president” seems weird and specific enough that you would know they understood the ‘secret message’, unlike if they just replied “Thank you”. 

Then other posts appeared making references to the shoelaces and president posts:

I’ll Wait For You

Summary: You, Bucky, and Steve were childhood friends until Bucky joins the war efforts.

Buckyxreader

Warnings: Death, sadness, anggssttt, fluffffff

Word Count: 3403

A/N: So, this is my first marvel one shot. I hope everyone enjoys! I’ve been working on this for a while now and finally finished it! I hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated!

     Growing up with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was a trip. Bucky Barnes was the one all the girls wanted while Steve Rogers was the one everyone made fun of. Then there was you. You were the one that had Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers wrapped around your little fingers. You didn’t really mean for that to happen. It just did. However, you had Bucky wound a little tighter than Steve.

    It was the three of you against the world, until WW2 started. Bucky had signed up and Steve was trying, but you both knew he would never get drafted. 

     Bucky had asked you to go for walk through town, seeing as it was one of his last nights home before he got shipped off to who knows where. “Are you scared?” You asked him.

    He looked down at you. “Of course I’m not. Who would mess with me, doll?” He asked, smirking.

    You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m serious, Buck. What if you get hurt? What if you- if you-” Die. You couldn’t finish. You looked away from him as tears stung your eyes.

    Bucky stopped walking and made you look up at him. “Hey, hey. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be alright.” He told you. You nodded, but couldn’t help the tears that fell down your face. He sighed and wrapped his arms around you. “Don’t you cry, doll. I’ll be back before you know it.” He whispered.

    “Bucky,” you said, moving away from him. “I love you.” You told him.

    He looked down at you. “I love you too.” He leaned down and you felt his lips touch yours. You had been dreaming of this moment since you were twelve. Bucky broke away from the kiss and looked down at you. “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He whispered.

    You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m glad you did it before you left. I was afraid another man would sweep me off my feet before you did.” You told him.

    He smirked at you. “Well, I better do this.” He said as he got down on one knee. Your hand flew to your mouth as you shook your head. “Will you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), be my wife?” He asked.

    “Bucky! You can’t be serious!” You exclaimed.

    “Of course I’m serious!” He yelled back, laughing. You smiled as tears came to your eyes. “I have loved for as long as I could remember. I can’t imagine another day without you being mine. I can’t imagine writing to anyone else other than Mrs. (Y/N) Barnes while I’m away. I want to come home to someone waiting for me.” He told you.

    Your tears fell as you smiled. “James Buchanan Barnes, of course I would love to marry you.” You told him.

    He smiled and stood up to kiss you. You laughed as he picked you up and spun you around. “We will get married before I leave.” He said.

    “I can wear my mother’s wedding dress. We can go to the local church. Steve and Mary will go with us.” You started planning. Bucky couldn’t help but smile at your excitement. “We have to tell Steve!” You exclaimed and started running down the street.

    Bucky laughed and ran after you.

__________

    Your friend Mary tucked a strand piece of your hair behind your ear. “I can’t believe you two are getting married.” She said.

    You smiled and nodded. “Me either.” You told her.

    She smiled brightly at you. “Alright. Are you ready?” She asked. You simply nodded. She took a deep breath. “Okay. Well, I’ll see you at the altar.” She gave you a kiss on the cheek and then walked through the doors into the main part of the church.

    You waited until you heard the church organ start playing. You held your bouquet of white roses in your hands and walked through the doors as they opened. Steve stood next to Bucky at the end of the aisle beside the minister. Mary stood on the opposite side.

    Bucky didn’t turn around and look at you just yet. He knew he had to wait till you got beside him. Your mother’s dress cascaded down your body, the train following behind you. Your arms were covered in the lace sleeves of the dress.

    After what felt like ages, you finally stood beside Bucky. He looked at you and tears came to his eyes. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered.

    A blush rose to your cheeks as you looked at him in his army uniform. He really was handsome and you really were lucky that he was yours. You smiled and you both looked at the minister. “We are gathered here today-” You tuned out the minister as Bucky grabbed your hand.

    “Do you, James Buchanan Barnes, take (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?” The minister asked Bucky.

    Bucky smiled at you. “I do.” He said, making goosebumps appear on your skin.

    “And do you, (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), take James Buchanan Barnes to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?” The minister asked you.

    You looked up at Bucky with tears in your eyes. You couldn’t believe you were doing this. “I do.” You whispered.

    Bucky let out the breath he was holding and you both laughed. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. James, you may kiss the bride.”

    Bucky turned towards you and grabbed your face in his hands. “I love you.” He whispered as he leaned closer to you.

    “I love you too.” You said breathlessly. Bucky smiled before he slammed his lips to yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tried to get as close to him as possible.

    Steve coughed and made you two break apart. “Congratulations.” Steve said, shaking Bucky’s hand.

    You smiled as Bucky wrapped his hand around your waist and held you close. “Smile for the camera!” The photographer that you and Bucky had found yelled. You, Bucky, Steve, and Mary faced the camera and smiled.

__________

    There was a knock on your front door just as you were taking the pie you baked out of the oven. “Be right there!” You yelled as you placed the pie on the counter.

    You put the oven mitts down and went to the front door. You opened the door to see a man in a uniform. “Hello, doll. I’m looking for Mrs. Barnes.” He told you.

    You laughed and threw your arms around him. “Bucky!” You exclaimed. Bucky laughed and spun you around.  “What are you doing home? I thought you weren’t coming back for another couple months.” You said as you walked into the kitchen.

    Bucky followed you and sat down at the kitchen table. “Well, I just came home for a few days before I’m shipped out again. I also had to tell you that you’re now married to a Sergeant.” He said proudly.

    “James! That’s amazing!” You exclaimed and ran over to him. You sat on his lap and gave him a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.” You told him as you kept planting kisses on his lips.

__________

    You laid next to Bucky in your bed. His arm was wrapped around your naked body as the sheets covered both of you. “Bucky, I don’t know what to do with myself when you’re gone.” You whispered.

    Bucky kissed your forehead. “The war will be over soon enough and then I will be home to you. We can start a family when I get back.” He told you.

    You placed kisses on his arm and looked up at him. “What if you don’t come home?” You asked.

    “As long as you’re waiting for me, I’ll always come back to you.” He explained. He leaned down and kissed you ever so gently. “Don’t forget that.” He whispered.

    Tears came to your eyes as you nodded. “I’ll wait for you.”

__________

    “Have you heard from Steve?” You asked Mary as you brought a pot of tea into your living room. She shook her head as she poured herself a cup. “It’s been months since I’ve heard from him. In fact, it’s been months since I heard from Bucky too.” You explained.

    Mary simply laughed. “Don’t worry, (Y/N). He’s saving our country. He’ll be home once we win.” She told you.

    You nodded and started pouring yourself a cup of tea. Suddenly, there was a banging on the front door. “Excuse me.” You said as you set the pot back down. You walked to the front door. You opened the door to reveal a man in a uniform with his back to you. “I wasn’t expecting you home so soon.” You beamed. The man turned around to reveal he wasn’t Bucky. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were my husband.” You laughed in embarrassment.

    “M’am, I am very sorry to tell you, but your husband, James Buchanan Barnes was killed in action several weeks ago.” He told you.

    It became very hard to breath. You clutched your chest as tears came to your eyes. “No. No. He can’t be. He was going to come home. We were going to start a family. He can’t be dead.” You said and choked on your tears. “I would have felt something. I would have known he died.”

    The soldier in front of you reached into his coat pocket and handed you a letter. “This was amongst his things and was addressed to you, Mrs. Barnes.” The young man told you.

    You clutched the letter to your chest as your tears fell. “What about Steve Rogers? Do you know where he is?” You asked.

    The man held a solemn face. “Steve Rogers was killed in action several days after your husband.” He explained. You shook your head as you stepped back into the house. “I’m very sorry.” Was all he could say.

    “Thank you.” You said, but I barely came above a whisper. He nodded and started walking away as you closed the door.

    Mary stepped out of the living room and rushed over to you. “(Y/N)? What’s wrong? What happened?” She asked, her voice laced with concern.

    “They said he died.” You whispered as your legs buckled beneath you and you slid to the floor. Mary sat down beside you and wrapped her arms around you. You cried on her shoulder for what felt like hours.

__________

    You sat on your front porch with Bucky’s letter in your lap. It’s been two weeks and you’ve yet to open. With a deep breath, you ripped open the letter and began to read it.

    My dearest love,

    I want you to know, that every night I think of you. You’re all I think about. I think about you when I wake up. I think about you when I’m on a mission. I think about you at all hours of the day. I can’t help it. That’s how much I love you.

    Steve had come to our camp several weeks ago. I wasn’t here, however. I had gotten lost on a mission and little Steve Rogers had to come and rescue me. It was a nice change for once. Looks like we don’t have to worry about him anymore. He’s gotten more muscles than I can count.

    They are sending us out tomorrow. It’s only going to be three of us, but I know we will be able to win that battle. I know it, because I have to come home to you. I know you’re waiting for me. I can feel it.

    Remember what I said? As long as you’re waiting for me, I’ll always come back to you. Okay? I promise with all my heart, my love.

    I will love you forever and I will see you soon.

    Signed, James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th Infantry Regiment

    Tears were rushing down your face as you set the letter down. “He’ll come home. He has to. Cause I’m waiting for him.” You told yourself. You leaned back in your chair and waited.

__________

    Over the years, you had become a legend in your neighbourhood. You were the old Mrs. Barnes waiting for her husband who had died in the war everyday.

    Everyday you sat on your porch without fail. You sat there with Bucky’s letter beside you and a glass of lemonade waiting for when he got home. You would be out there at the crack of dawn and would stay there until you couldn’t keep you eyes open.

    The neighbourhood kids would always stop by and talk to you. They loved hearing your’s and Bucky’s story over and over again. It was always their favourite of how he proposed.

    Until, one day you weren’t there. The whole neighbourhood thought the worst, but you had only had a minor stroke and were stuck in a hospital to live out the rest of your days. You had argued and told them that you had to go home and wait for Bucky or else he would never come home.

    All your protests did nothing. Instead, you sat at your window everyday, hoping that your one true love would find you.

__________

    “Who’s that?” Bucky asked Steve as he pointed at a picture Steve had of the three of you.

    Steve couldn’t help but smile at it. “That’s (Y/N).” He said.

    Bucky looked at the beautiful girl in the photo and he could feel his heart flutter. “Who was she?” Bucky asked.

    “She was- is- your wife.” Steve explained.

    Bucky’s head shot up and looked at Steve. “Is she still alive?” Bucky asked with hope in his voice. He didn’t remember you, but he was hoping that if he met anyone from his past, he would slowly start to remember. Steve nodded. “That’s great! Can we go see her?”

    “Buck, she’s not herself. If she saw you, she might have a heart attack. She’s too old for any new surprises.” Steve explained with sadness in his voice.

    “But, I promised her.” Bucky said before he could stop himself. He shook his head as if to clear and looked down at the photo. He remembered you a bit. “I-I told her to wait for me. If she waited, then I would go back to her.” Bucky said. He looked back up at Steve. “I just want to remember her. Please.” He begged.

    Steve sighed. “Alright, but don’t come crying to me if she doesn’t remember you.”

__________

    There was a knock on your door. “Come in!” You sang as you fumbled with the blanket in your lap.

    A nurse’s head poked into the room. “Mrs. Barnes, you have visitors.” She said brightly.

    A smile grew on your face. You haven’t had visitors in years. “Send them in!” You exclaimed. The nurse nodded and rushed out of the room. You fixed your white hair and grabbed your hand mirror. You had several wrinkles on your face, but you looked good for a ninety year old.

    Two handsome men came into your room. Both of them were tall and muscular. One had blond hair while the other had long brown hair. “Mrs. Barnes.” The blond one said and you immediately recognized his voice.

    “Steve Rogers!” You exclaimed. He laughed and nodded. “It’s been too long.” You told him as he bent down to give you a hug. When he broke away you looked at his friend. “And who is this?” You asked.

    The man took a step towards you and reached his hand out to you. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes.” He told you as he grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on it.

    “Bucky?” You asked as tears came to your eyes. The man smiled and nodded. “Bucky! I knew you would come home! I’ve been waiting for you. They told me that you had died and you weren’t ever coming home to me, but you never break your promises. I knew you would come back to me.” You told him.

    Bucky pulled up a chair and sat down beside your bed. “Of course I would come back to you, doll.” He said. You laughed and your tears fell.

    Steve took that as his cue and left as quietly as he could. “Was it hard to find me?” You asked and Bucky shook his head. “I would have waited at home with your favourite lemonade, but there mean doctors put me on lock down and told me I can’t be by myself.” You explained.

    Bucky took your hand in his flesh on. “I’ll always find you. No matter where you are. As long as you’re waiting for me, I’ll always come back to you.” He said.

    You smiled and laid down a bit. “Oh Bucky, this is too much excitement for one day. I must get some sleep. When I wake up, you have to tell me all about your trip home.” You told him.

    Bucky shook his head. “You can’t sleep now. I just got back.” He told you, desperation in his voice. Bits and his pieces of his memories were coming back, but he wanted you to tell him stories about the two of you. About who he was.

    “I’m sorry, Bucky.” You whispered. “I think I’m dying. The doctors told me that I don’t have much longer to live. But you know what? I think I would be happy dying. Because right now I’m happy. I got to see my love one more time.” You explained.

    Tears came to Bucky’s eyes. “Promise you’ll wait for me wherever you go?” He asked.

    You looked up at his blue eyes. “I’ll wait for you. I’ll always wait for you.” You said. You slowly closed your eyes. “I love you.” You whispered. You breathing was slowing and Bucky knew you didn’t have much time left.

    “I love you too.” He said as he placed a kiss on your forehead. A smile crept on your face.

    Finally, several agonizing minutes later, you took your last breath. Your chest stopped moving and your hand went slack in Bucky’s.

    “Nurse!” Bucky yelled. The nurse came running in. “She, uh, she just stopped breathing.” He explained.

    The nurse walked over to your body and felt around for a pulse. “We knew this day would come, but we never wanted it to.” She explained. She looked up at Bucky. “She would tell us stories about her and her husband. All the nurses would stop by at least once a day to hear any story about them. She loved telling them. I just wish, she had a better life.” She told him. Tears fell from her eyes as she left the room.

    Steve came in soon after and stood next to Bucky. “They’re going to come in soon and start planning her funeral. We should probably leave.” Steve told him.

    Bucky simply nodded and left the room before Steve could see the tears rush down his face. He would remember you. He would find anyone who could tell him your story. He would listen to your story until he had it memorized. He would remember you if that was the last thing he did.

__________

    Bucky stood in front of your grave. Your name was written on it with your birth year and the year you died. Bucky took a deep breath and placed the white roses on the ground. “I remember you, doll.” He whispered.

    Tears came to his eyes. “I remember the way you used to sing when you baked. The way you always had to sleep on the right side of the bed. How you always asked for my opinion on the clothes you wore even before we were married. I remember how you said yes to my lame proposal. I remember our wedding. You were in your mom’s dress. It looked so beautiful on you. I remember promising you I would come home. And I’m so sorry it took me so long.” He told you.

    His tears fell and he looked up at the sky. “I’m sorry, doll. I’m so sorry. But as long as you’re waiting for me, I’ll come back to you.” He whispered.

   He looked back down at your grave. There were four little words printed at the bottom. “I’ll wait for you.”