GUYS

GUYS

This is insane! It honestly feels like yesterday that we hit 200 followers! We're at 300 followers now! I just want to tell you all how much I appreciate you and how grateful I am that you have stuck with me, despite my long periods between updates. You mean so much to me and you're the reason I keep writing 🖤🖤🖤

Hold My Hand (Mycroft Holmes x Reader)

Request: Hello! May I request a Mycroft Holmes x Reader with prompt 35? Please and thank you if you decide to write this!

Words: 1226

Warnings: fluff that turns into angst, character death, brain tumor, secret relationship.

Characters/Pairing: Mycroft x reader, a little of John and Sherlock.

Mycroft Holmes was not known as a very compassionate man. To some, his emotionless personality is seen as a strength, himself included in this. To others, it is viewed as insensitivity and rudeness. But to one such woman in his life, it is nothing but a shield to protect the ones he loves.

Should he show the affection he holds for her, her life will immediately be put into danger.

It is no secret that Mycroft is a targeted man. How could one not be when they hold so much power. Control a powerful man and you control his power.

It is why he keeps her close. Hidden in plain sight. She is nothing but an assistant in the eyes of those who do not know the man.

But away from prying eyes and gossiping lips, he holds her dear to his heart that he claims to not have. She consumes his mind when she is not in the room. And she is the only thing he sees when she is.

Which is why a deep sigh leaves his lips at her voice. He had pressing matters to be dealt with but she was a beacon and he was a moth drawn to her.

“My?” Her voice was slight and timid, he had been in a mood all day and she hated the thought of his anger being directed to her.

“Yes, my dear?” He rested his pen on the desk, closing the book he had been writing in. His blue eyes directed towards her softened at the sight of her in the grey pea coat he had gifted her. Soft lavender gloves adorned her hands and a deep purple scarf around her neck.

“You haven’t had a break yet. I thought we could go for a walk.” She gave him a sweet smile that had him fighting a returning one. It is true. It was well into the night, and he had been working since the early hours.

She always looked after him. Had him eat when he ought to. Had him take breaks to rest when he should. And forced him to take care in his work.

“Perhaps a break will be beneficial.” Rising from his chair he sorted his papers while she moved to grab his coat.

“Ah, thank you, dear.” He did offer a small smile this time when she helped him into his coat. She ducked her head with a smile. She was still unaccustomed to the small displays of affection that began when he had drawn her into his office one afternoon and confessed his thoughts.

Together, the left the building and into the chilly night. They walked in silence side by side. Close enough to pacify her desire to be with him, but far enough to not allude to their relationship. It hurt her tender heart.

They came to a café that was empty, close to closing but not for a while more.

“Let’s stop here. They have wonderful hot chocolate and pastries.” She grabbed his arm, stopping him and pointing to the quiet storefront. He stiffened at her touch, worried that someone may see.

Noticing this, her face fell. Dropping her hand, she turned her gaze to the pavement.

“Apologies, I was lost in the moment.” She turned before allowing him to reply. A cloud seeming to hang over her. His brows furrowed in guilt. An emotion he hadn’t been familiar with until her.

She was already at the counter ordering when he decided to follow. He got himself and pastry and hot chocolate, paying for his and her orders.

She was still silent as they drank and ate at the small table. Their knees brushed but every time they did, she would jerk away. It didn’t take a genius like him to understand that this secret relationship was finally taking its toll on her. He knew this would happen, of course.

It is the reason it took him ages to even consider this relationship. Eventually, she would grow weary of the secret. It is that time.

As they finished, she was still silent. In the quiet, cold street, she stood further from him on the way back.

“My dear.” His voice cut through the silence. Her head snapped up, her despair melting away. Could it be? He never called her such tender names in public. Is this what she has been waiting for?

“Yes, Mycroft?” Her heart thumped in her chest, nearly breaking out of her ribcage in anticipation.

“May I hold your hand, my love?”

The grin that overtook her face was the reason Mycroft finally believed he had a heart. Because if he didn’t, the overwhelming giddy hammering in his chest would be something of concern.

“Of course, My! You don’t even have to ask.” Reaching out she took his offered hand in hers and laced their fingers together. Finally, she thought. With such a simple act, she felt complete. She felt closer to him as if nothing could separate them again.

How wrong they were.

All had been going well from then on. Dates to fancy restaurants, walks in the park, even cozy nights in with popcorn and movies.

However, they noticed something was wrong when she began to forget the simplest of things. It started as forgetting to send emails. Then important meetings, until it progressed to forgetting big dates such as her and Mycroft’s fifth anniversary. It was then Mycroft decided she needed to go to the doctors.

The tumor was small. But nestled right next to the hippocampus, right in the center of the brain. Not a place easily accessed. And the tumor was growing quickly.

“I’m sorry, but even if we go through with the surgery, there’s a slim chance of survival.” The doctor held her clipboard tight to her chest, the stony face of Mycroft was off-putting. Not that she could blame him, having just told him that his wife won’t survive with the tumor and even may not survive the surgery to remove it.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Mycroft turned away, walking into the room where his wife was laid on that godforsaken hospital bed. She looked away from Sherlock upon hearing her husband enter. She gave him a small smile, hoping to ease his mind. Not that it worked.

“What did the Doctor say?” John asked from his chair in the corner. Instead of answering Mycroft held open the door.

“Boys, if I may be alone with my wife?” He asked when they didn’t move. John and Sherlock exchanged a look before rising and exiting the room. Mycroft closed the door behind them and took the seat Sherlock had occupied.

He was silent for a long while, just staring at her hands placed in his own. They were pale and clammy. Not at all how they had been all those years ago. When he had asked to hold her hand in public for the first time.

“I’m not going to make it am I?” Her voice wasn’t sad. Nor was it angry. It was just tired. She was tired. His silence said it all. The way he buried his face into their joined hands, his lips pressing to her fingers, told her everything she needed to know.

“I’m sorry.” The stone was cold under his fingertips. The golden band on his ring finger gleamed in the morning light.

When My Back Was Turned (Ezio Auditore X Reader)

Words: 3645

Warnings/Themes: Injury, Violence, Blood, Not Quite Character Death, Angst, Fluff

Characters/Pairings: Ezio x Reader, Claudia, Mario, Maria (briefly mentioned)

A/N: This is just something I’ve been working on and finally decided to post. I almost didn’t. This isn’t the whole story that I wrote, there is more to the ending, but it felt too rushed for me to want to post it. Some background information for this one, I imagined the reader/ this character as ten years younger than Ezio. And in a form of self-indulgence, she comes from a world where AC is just a game, but I imagine it also has it’s version of Templars and Assassins that no one knows about. Thanks for reading!

They limped up to the villa, having abandoned their horses at the stables at the entrance to the village. Eyes had been glued to the battered pair from the moment they had approached. He wasn’t as badly beaten as she was, only sporting a split lip, a sprained wrist, and various cuts and bruises. He held her upright with an arm gently around her waist. He didn’t want to jostle her bruised, possibly fractured, ribs or her recently dislocated shoulder. She was bleeding from multiple wounds along her face and hands.

They were on their way to what was supposed to be a simple visit to Monteriggioni that turned into an ambush by some mountain bandits. Ezio had made it out relatively well and was already running away, thinking that his wife was just behind him. However, her shout of surprise told him otherwise.

As she had been about to follow him, a couple bandits grabbed her. And before she knew it, they had shoved her over the cliff face. It felt like she had rolled for hours when it had been mere seconds before her hand grabbed onto a young tree sprouting from the rock. It groaned and cracked under her added weight and threatened to break. Upon catching herself, her already damaged body smacked the rock and a sickening pop sounded as her arm left its socket.

Ezio had immediately jumped into action, swiftly dispatching the remaining attackers, and rushing to the cliff's edge. His heart hammered in his chest at the sight of her clinging to that sapling for dear life. She was too far down for him to grab her and she definitely wouldn’t be able to climb back up with her shoulder. Thinking fast, he stripped the cloaks and capes from the fallen bandits and tied them together into a makeshift rope. She could barely keep a hold of it as he pulled her back up to safety.

He held her close to him, petting her sweaty and bloody hair. He whispered comforting words to her as she shook against him. He knew she was scared of heights and falling, the reason for her refusing to free-run on certain buildings and to do a Leap of Faith, unless absolutely necessary. However, in this situation, she hadn’t been in control and it terrified her.

Once she had quieted down, Ezio sat her up properly and told her he needed to reset her shoulder. She had nodded somberly and let him pop it back into place without a peep. Ezio almost found it amusing how she can take the pain of a dislocated shoulder with only a wince, but she couldn’t handle heights. But now wasn’t the time to tease her.

Recovering their horses that had run off with their packs, the pair made their way back to Monteriggioni.

A doctor was already waiting for them as they entered the villa, some kind villager sending for one when they saw the two. Mario and Claudia stood with the doctor, the older female’s hands over her mouth, and Y/N was practically unconscious by the time they made it to the trio.

Mario swept up to take the woman into his arms, allowing Ezio to cradle his wrist and follow them into their shared room. (Y/n) was placed gently on the bed and the doctor immediately began his treatment. Ezio collapsed into the chair at the foot of the bed, his armor digging uncomfortably into his flesh.

“What happened?” Mario began his interrogation before Ezio could get his bearings. Shaking his head, Ezio began to carefully remove his armor. Claudia was already helping the doctor remove (Y/n)’s, who moaned in pain. The younger man’s eyes fixed on her at the sound.

Seeing that his nephew was not going to answer him now, Mario rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. Until (Y/n) was cared for and out of danger, Mario knew Ezio wouldn’t speak to anyone about the mission. This wasn’t the first time this has happened, but it is the worst condition either of them had been in in a long time.

“Once you two are rested, meet me in my office to discuss what happened.” Mario placed a hand on Ezio’s shoulder, squeezing gently. The younger man simply nodded, not wanting to take his eyes off his wife.

Nearly an hour later, (Y/n)’s wounds were patched up and Claudia had changed her into a loose shirt and pants. Ezio’s wrist had been wrapped and put into a sling and his lip cared for. He had moved his chair to be right next to her as she slept, tucked into the bed and her favorite blanket pulled up to her nose, just the way she liked it. He wished he could curl up with her in that bed, but on doctor’s orders, she was not to be moved around too much or her ribs would not heal properly.

Ezio knew he should probably go find his uncle but speaking to anyone and leaving his wife’s side didn’t sound very appealing. So he sat in his chair, watching as her eyes flickered behind her eyelids. She must be having a bad dream. As she often does after a particularly bad mission.

He reached over and stroked her cheek with his good hand, smiling softly when she nuzzled into his hand. She would probably wake in the morning grumpy and very hungry. An angel when she was asleep but a terrifying beast upon awakening. Ezio smiled wider at the thought. She would definitely kill him had she known his thoughts.

At some point in the late evening, Claudia knocked and left some food on the table next to him, squeezing his shoulder and telling him to eat and rest. He nodded and picked at the food. The roasted duck didn’t quite smell or taste as appealing as it did when he wasn’t consumed with worry.

Many times has he tried to convince his wife to retire from Assassin duties, to stay safe and live life to the fullest while she was still young. But those conversations usually ended with him sleeping on the floor and her not speaking to him for a full evening. How dare he think that she would ever let him face the dangers they did alone.

After eating as much as he could stomach, he carefully stripped from his robes and stepped behind the partition in the room. A tub filled with water sat in the corner, filled earlier with hot water by a maid. By now the water was less than lukewarm, but he hardly felt it as he lowered himself in. She had already been cleaned by Claudia with a cloth and a basin of water.

The partition was positioned so he could still see her on the bed when he leaned back. On his own terms, he would have just climbed into bed after changing into a sleeping shirt, but since he began courting her, she always refuses him to enter her bed unless clean.

‘I don’t want my bed smelling like blood, metal, and sweat!’ She had yelled at him early on in their relationship. No matter where they were if there was a bed, she had to be clean before entering it. He figured it came from whatever futuristic upbringing she had.

He still vividly remembers that day, he had just brought the Apple to Leonardo’s workshop with his uncle and Niccolò for the artist to study. When Leonardo had reached out to touch it a bright, golden light engulfed the room and a figure fell from thin air. Ezio had rushed forward to catch the person.

She was unconscious and dressed in strange clothes. But he wouldn’t lie, this stranger was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. In the next few days they had found out she came from a different world, far in the future. She had been tasked by a being called Minerva to guide Ezio on his journey.

Six years had now gone by and she had since become a master assassin and his wife. His gaze fell down to his bruised knuckles. A gold wedding band laid just above one, on his left ring finger. He didn’t normally wear it on missions but seeing as how this was supposed to be just a visit back to Monteriggioni, he had worn it proudly. It had a red smudge of blood on it. Removing it from his finger, he washed it in the waters.

Finishing up in the tub, he threw on a sleeping shirt and stepped quietly over to the bed. He was always hesitant when sleeping with her when she was injured. He was either a fitful sleeper or a cuddler. Neither one is very good for her injured state. But he knew she wouldn’t rest as well without him next to her. So being cautious, he placed a few pillows between them before fully settling in. He laid on his side, careful of his wrist, and gently stroked a knuckle across her soft cheek.  

Her lips quirked up and she turned her head to nuzzle into his hand. He let a gentle smile take over his face. Even battered and weary, she still found a reason to smile. Pride swelled in his chest at being the reason for her smiles most of the time. A truly beautiful thing to behold.

“Buonanotte, amore mio.” He withdrew his hand, but let it rest on her stomach. As his eyes closed, he felt calloused fingers wrap around his.

“Buonanotte, Bello.” Her voice was raspy and quiet, but it was still the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.

________________________________________________________________

A knock to the solid wood door roused him from his dreamless sleep. As predicted, he had moved a lot in his sleep. Now he laid on his back, arms sprawled out and one leg tossed over the barrier of pillows, his foot tucked under her leg. The sheets had bunched around his waist and the duvet tossed over her slumbering body. Drool was crusted to the side of his mouth and his hair was in disarray. She, of course, looked positively heavenly, despite her injuries.

Rising from the bed, Ezio straightened his appearance and moved to the door as a second knock sounded. The kind Doctor from the previous day had returned, most likely to change her bandages. Behind the elderly man was Claudia, a tray with fruits, bread, and two small bowls of soup on it.

“Ah, Dottore, Buongiorno. Come in.” Ezio stepped to the side, letting the two into the room. He excused himself to behind the partition to change into more presentable clothes. It was somewhat difficult with only one good arm, but he managed. After struggling to button his shirt up with one hand he gave up, stepping out from the partition. Claudia rolled her eyes and buttoned his shirt up for him.

“Nothing but a child.” She grumbled, poking him roughly in the chest. He chuckled, rubbing the spot.

“Careful, Claudia, I still have uses for him.” A raspy voice came from the bed. Claudia’s attention snapped over to her sister-in-law.

“(Y/N)!” The siblings rushed to the bed, leaving enough space for the doctor. “How are you feeling?” Claudia questioned. The younger woman gave a pained smile as the Doctor peeled back the bandage on one of her deeper wounds.

“Like hell, to be honest. And I’d kill for some ibuprofen…” She bit her lip and pressed her head further into the pillows when the doctor dabbed an alcohol-soaked rag into the wound. Ezio took a step closer, worry flooding his veins. He truly hated seeing her in such a state. He was beating himself up inside for not getting to her sooner.

“I can give you a poultice to take the edge away around your ribs.” The doctor began rewrapping her wounds. “I’d advise you twist or move around as little as possible for the next few weeks to give your ribs time to heal, and only wear loose clothing. Your other bandages must be changed every eight hours.”

“Grazie, Dottore.” The woman nodded in appreciation. The doctor smiled and set a small jar of the poultice on the bedside table. After giving a few instructions on the next few weeks of healing, he bid the three farewell and departed.

“I’m glad you’re already doing better, mia sorella.” Claudia sat on the edge of the bed, taking Y/N’s hand in hers. “You had me worried sick seeing you return like that.” She lightly scolded.

“Sorry, Claudia. Next time I’ll tell those bandits to not attack us. Just because you worry about me.” Y/N smiled.

“Piccola merda.” The two women laughed, only to be cut off from the grunt of pain from the junior. Ezio finally stepped forward, still silent as before. He took the jar and removed the lid, setting it on the table.

Claudia stood up out of the way of the man on a mission. His face was drawn into a concentrated frown and he refused to look at his wife’s scratched-up face. With stiff and precise movements, he pulled up her shirt to just under her breast. Her skin was a vivid purple, the bruise forming overnight. His brows furrowed deeper at the sight.

His sister excused herself, sensing that the two needed to talk. But not before directing her brother to make sure to feed his wife the soup she had brought. He merely grunted in response, dipping two fingers into the greasy concoction.

Despite his angry demeanor and calloused hands, his touch was feather-light on her skin as he spread the poultice on her ribs. Her eyes didn’t leave his face as he worked. It had been so long that either one of them had been injured like this that Ezio was having a hard time controlling his emotions.

“Bello…” Her voice was just a whisper, but it had his finger freezing over her skin. He sniffed and grabbed a rag to wipe his hands clean. “Ezio. Look at me.” Her fingers closed around his wrist, tugging him down to sit next to her. He slowly brought his eyes up to meet hers. And the tears immediately sprung to his eyes.

“Oh, my love…” Her own vision blurred with tears and she threaded her fingers with his. “It’s okay, I’m okay.”

“I should have been faster… I should have made sure you were following me…I’m so sorry, mia bella.” He covered his face with his free hand, the other squeezing her fingers. His chest constricted with suppressed sobs.

“Ezio.” Her voice was soft but stern. He managed to look at her again. “This is not your fault. You had no way of knowing what was going to happen, not even your sixth sense could have predicted this… I don’t blame you for this happening, so I don’t want you to blame yourself either.”

He sniffled and wiped the tears from his face.

“And besides, I promised to kick the ass of anyone who wronged you. So don’t make me kick your ass when I get out of this bed.” She gave him her signature lopsided grin. He let a laugh escape him despite the want to sob instead.

“Now, I’m starving, so help me sit up.”

“Sì, Signora.” Ezio helped her up and placed the tray of food in her lap. There was just enough for the two of them. They ate in silence for a few minutes, not realizing how hungry they were.

“The real tragedy here though is that I think I lost my hairpin down the side of that cliff.” She pouted as she popped a strawberry into her mouth. The dainty gold hairpin had been an anniversary gift from Ezio two years ago and she wore it every time they took a break.

Ezio chuckled. “I shall buy you all the hairpins until the void of missing that one is filled.”

“Oh, my dear, I fear your wallet will weep. As it may take all the hairpins in the world for the hole in my chest to be filled.” She feigned distress, pressing the back of her bandaged hand to her forehead.

A yawn suddenly forced its way from her, stretching her chest painfully.

“You should sleep, it will help you heal.” Ezio cleared the tray and set it next to the door. His wrist twinged. He almost forgot his own injury. Despite the pain though, he once again helped his wife lay down and pulled the blankets up to her chin. Her eyes batted slowly up at him; her lips pursed ever so slightly. He huffed a laugh and bent down to press a slow kiss to her waiting lips.

“I will be back before you wake again, mia bella.” After kissing her forehead, he made sure she closed her eyes then left the room. He had to report to his uncle about the attack. Not something he looked forward to.

________________________________________________________________

It took a little less than six weeks for her to be fully healed. Her ribs still twinged dully when she twisted wrong, but daily stretches were quickly strengthening her muscles again. Ezio had finally broken his moody attitude now that she was up and walking.

The pair had stayed in Monteriggioni while she healed but constantly corresponded with the others in the Brotherhood. But today, the two were finally returning to Venezia to continue their search for Savonarola and The Apple.

She knew Ezio was anxious to resume their search, but despite being injured, she was glad they had somewhat of a break. She knew it would be around this time that Savonarola would be making his way into Firenze to steal control from the Medici. In the next three years, they will be storming the city to take down the corrupt monk. And then they won’t have a moment to breathe.

“Tesoro, are you ready to go?” Ezio’s voice brought her back from her thoughts. She smiled up at her husband and nodded. They were already packed and had their horses ready for the long journey. She hugged Mario, Claudia, and Maria goodbye as they met them at the town's entrance. She mounted her horse, Ezio on his horse trotting up next to her.

Waving, the pair left the town. And for the next eight years, they fought tooth and nail against the Templars. They defeated Savonarola, regained the apple, took down Rodrigo, and returned to Monteriggioni. Got run out of said town and came to Rome. Together, they began the rebellion against Cesare, starting with destroying the machines he forced Leonardo to make for him.

The two had destroyed all but one, the naval cannon. Following the engineer and getting past the guards was the easy part. Burning the blueprints was also easy. But when it came to actually destroying the machine and the naval fleet, that had proved to be more difficult.

Ezio rowed the gondola while she manned the Cannon. And slowly but surely, they dispatched the large ships. They had survived a few near-hits, the small boat rocking violently, the ropes and extra ammunition sliding around on the floor.

She cheered as the last ship went down in flames, Ezio breathlessly laughing next to her. His arms were on fire from rowing.

Y/N turned the Cannon, facing down onto itself. She looked over to her husband with a grin. “Would you care to do the honors, messere?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Ezio wrapped his hand around the firing mechanism, “Perdonatemi, Leonardo.” He pulled back on the lever and they both turned to dive off the side of the boat.

But as she had said once, many years ago, they could not have predicted this.

As the boat had been rocking from enemy fire, and she moved around, a rope had looped itself into the perfect snare around her foot. When she jumped from the boat, it tightened, the other end is tied off on the metal machine. She had dived perfectly, was swimming next to Ezio as the explosion went off.

And then she was yanked back.

As the Cannon sunk to the bottom of the bay the rope tightened even more around her leg. She was quickly running out of air as she tried to free herself. Her hidden blade picked the wrong time to jam, if only she cleaned it as often as she should have.

Ezio was just about to break the surface when he turned to look at her. And his blood went as cold as the water around him. Managing to take a deep breath at the surface, he dove back down, swimming as fast as he could. She was sinking fast, faster than he could keep up. He watched desperately as she finally gave up, looking up at him and giving him an apologetic smile.

“NO!” The word only came out as a bubbled scream, mixing with the last bit of air leaving her body. Her eyes slipped shut and she descended into the dark depths. Out of his vision.

Not caring about his swiftly depleting oxygen supply, Ezio continued to swim after her. His lungs burned and his arms and legs grew slower. Just when he thought he was going to pass out as well, a bright golden light illuminated the bay, he could see the outline of the Cannon as it sunk. But not her.

The ache in his chest became too much and his body moved to the surface on its own. His head broke the surface and he gasped for air. His body was filled with relief, but his mind was a typhoon of emotions. Panic, confusion, grief.

He knew that light, he had seen it fourteen years ago when she first entered this world.

And just as she had come, she disappeared just as quickly.

My Dash did a thing.

And Bucky is horrified.

Hi I just binged your masterlist and I fucking love your work. That is all. ♥️

OMG 😭 THANK YOU SO MUCH ❤✨💖❤ YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW.MICH I NEEDED TO HEAR THIS ❤❤❤❤❤❤

Pieces Welded in Gold (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Words: 2.6k

Warnings/Themes: Self-hate, sad!bucky, angst, fluff, comfort

Characters/Pairing: Bucky x reader, Steve, Nat and Wanda (Mentioned), Tony (Mentioned)

She was too good for him.

This is something he had in his head from the moment he had met her. She was a light in everyone’s lives, whereas he was just a pathetic excuse for an Avenger. It took her and Steve months to get him pardoned and then even more months for him to be accepted as an Avenger. Not that he blamed the people they had worked against. He has done so much damage in his unnecessarily long life.

So watching her now, laughing and smiling brightly with Natasha and Wanda, Bucky felt like some ghostly shadow that drifted solemnly down hallways, wondering if he was ever going to feel worthy of love.

The glass of champagne in his hand was set down on a passing waiter’s tray as Bucky excused himself from the group of men he stood with. They had all been talking of some heroic thing Steve had done on their latest mission. And while Bucky was extremely proud of the man Steve has become, he couldn’t help the jealously that rose in his throat. Like ichor that threatened to drown him in resentment. He wouldn’t allow it.

“Everything alright, Buck?” Steve, of course, was the first to stop the conversation and give his best friend his undivided attention.

“Yeah, pal. Just feeling a little empty, gonna go fuel up.” To others, it might sound like Bucky was just hungry, but between the two, it was a code they came up for when Bucky’s social bar was low. It was weird… it used to be Steve having to step away and Bucky making sure he was okay.

The ichor rose to the back of his mouth. Without giving Steve a chance to say anything else, Bucky paced off to the hallway where the elevators were. The grief of his old life and who he used to be hanging over him like the grim reaper.

He made it after skirting along the walls, avoiding prying eyes. Not that anyone would really look at him right now. They were all too busy celebrating something going on with Stark Industries that he had not bothered to remember.

Bucky was barely through the door of the apartment he shared in the Compound with Steve, when he began stripping out of the suffocating suit he had been required to wear. The jacket was haphazardly hung on the hook, mostly thrown at the wall it was on. The polished loafers were kicked off and left to trip anyone who walked through the door.

He entered his room with his button-up undone and his pants barely hanging on his hips. He finally discarded the rest of the clothes in a wrinkled pile in the corner. With a huff and a heavy plop, Bucky collapsed onto his bed in only his briefs. Getting up to shower and put proper clothing on felt like a mountain he didn’t want to climb right now. So he just laid there on his stomach, staring out the window and the fireworks that Tony had arranged.

He wondered if she was out there enjoying them. He knew she liked things like that. She had once told him in the dead of night in a Wakandan hut of all the things that felt otherworldly to her. Like fireworks. Or libraries. Bowling Allies after hours. Abandoned malls. Or her living room at 3am.

She promised him they’d go to places like that when he said he wished he wasn’t here. Just to disconnect for a while, to forget his problems and just feel like he was someone else. Someone that wasn’t the Soldier, or a younger version of him. Not even him right now.

It was at that moment that he knew he loved her. She was here to help him through the problems he was facing, but she also understood that sometimes he didn’t want to try. He just wanted to float away. And she helped him do that, safely.

He truly felt like he was floating when he was with her. Tied by a string to her wrist so he wouldn’t drift away. And she didn’t seem to mind it. In fact, whenever he was near her, she would always subconsciously grab his hand. Or when he sat next to her on the couch, she would always move closer until their thighs were pressed together.

In a small part of his mind that still held optimism, he hoped that she did this because she also felt that if they were apart then she would combust. Since he met her, she had always been a comfort to him, she was there when Steve had found his apartment in Bucharest. She stopped him when Zemo had activated the Soldier by using her abilities. And she was there in Wakanda.

The one thing he doesn’t know, however, is why. Why is she doing all of this for him? Why does she seem to care so much about him? Steve, he gets because they’ve been friends since diapers. But she didn’t know him before Bucharest.

She had him feeling every emotion known to man, but he couldn’t find a way to tell her any of it. He could pour his heart out about his frustrations on his past, on how he misses the 40s, on how he felt like a burden to everyone. But when it came to owning up to his feelings about her… he froze. How could he not? She was everything.

Bucky rolled over onto his back and rubbed at his eyes, trying to dry the tears that didn’t seem to stop coming. The fireworks continued like bombs on the battlefield. His gaze was fixed on a random speck on his ceiling. His mind felt sluggish now and his eyelids struggled to stay open, even as tears still fell.

He must have dozed off at some point as now his eyes flickered open at the sound of shuffling outside his door. The fireworks had stopped, and the air was still and quiet. Steve must have just gotten in. The sound of the shuffling sounded like his gait and weight.

With a groan, Bucky lifted himself onto his elbows to look at the clock on his bedside. Two in the morning. A late one for an old man like Steve. Must have been having a good time then, seeing as how Bucky left the party around 11pm.

A shower was sounding more appealing now that he had released his emotions and slept some. He rose from the bed and hobbled over to the attached bathroom. He didn’t bother looking at his appearance in the mirror; he already knew he looked like shit.

Y/n wouldn’t think so, a tiny voice said in his head. She’d probably say he looked like someone who has lived a lot. Too much, would have been his reply.

He took a lukewarm shower and spent too much time under the spray, pretending that the water running down his face was only that. Not a mix of salty tears that apparently hadn’t run out. Once he was feeling a little more like a person, he exited the walk-in shower and entered the closet.

A simple black t-shirt and some gray sweatpants would suffice. He tried to practice some self-care Y/n had suggested and combed his wet hair and applied lotion to his skin. It gave him a small sense of accomplishment.

Bucky froze in the doorway between his room and bathroom, however. When did she get here? Was she waiting for long?

Y/n sat on his bed, one of the lamps on the nightstand was on. She looked fresh and clean with her damp hair in two braids and an oversized maroon sweater swamping her. She wore cozy-looking bottoms and Star Wars-themed socks. And she looked so beautiful cuddled up in his bed.

“Sorry, I knocked but you didn’t answer. Figured I’d wait for you here.” She spoke so sweetly to him while offering him her hand. He didn’t hesitate to take it and climb into bed next to her, pressing her hand to his chest. He wondered if she could feel his heart thumping.

“It’s fine… Sorry, I left so early.” Bucky rested his head on her shoulder and her hand found its way into his drying hair.

“I get why you did, Buck. It’s okay.” Her free hand came to grab his metal one and threaded their fingers together. “To be honest, I wanted to leave as soon as I saw you walking out. But Tony, of course, demanded I showed off some illusions.” She sighed and released his hair to rub tiredly at her temple.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky sat up straight and took her face in his flesh hand as if he could take away the pain with just his touch. She smiled and shrugged. His body hummed when she nuzzled her face into his palm. Maybe…She does feel the same way as him. Why would she be here at this moment if she didn’t?

“Sort of. I’m still not used to using my abilities on so many people, and in combination with people telling me what to show them next; I got a bit of a headache now.” Her head was fully relaxed into his hand now and he couldn’t help but run his thumb over her cheek.

The question was gnawing at him, but fear of rejection was a brick wall stopping it from leaving his mouth. Would you stay with me tonight? When he was younger, that might have been something cheeky he would have said to a dame. But now it was something he felt he needed to keep himself from having a nightmare. Just someone he loves beside him.

“Hey, Buck?” He barely heard her over the debate with himself in his head. Her hand covering his own drew him from his mind. He briefly thanked God that she never read anyone’s mind without consent.

“Yeah, doll?” She smiled with her eyes still closed and her fingers running gently over his. A small quirk in her smile, however, had him nervous. She looked like she was contemplating something.

“I need to tell you something.” She finally opened her eyes and held his gaze for a few moments before looking away. Perhaps it was the dim lighting, but her face took on a darker hue. There was no mistaking the nervous lip bite she did, though. The movement has his skin feeling like it was ignited.

He adjusted his metal grip on her hand to give her a hopefully reassuring squeeze. He didn’t say anything but just waited for her to be ready on her own. That’s what she did for him. She never pushed him to talk when he wasn’t ready, just let him know that she was there.

She was silent for a while, her eyes fixed on the wall above his bed. He could practically see the cogs turning in her head. Of course, this anticipation was killing him. Was she rejecting him without him getting a chance? Was she saying that she was done helping him? Is he too much?

Before his thoughts could go any further, she finally spoke up in a quiet voice filled with anxiety.

“Before I tell you, I want you to know that it’s totally alright if you’re not ready, or you don’t… feel the same. I never want you to feel pressured or rushed, and it’s up to you to respond…” Bucky was practically on fire now. She took a deep breath, held both of his hands in hers, and looked him in the eye.

“I love you, Bucky,” she said. Her voice held no quiver of nervousness now. Her eyes shone with love and confidence in that love. The sight of it sent Bucky into orbit. The tether keeping him on the ground snapped and he felt himself floating away in pure joy.

The smile that broke over his face was wider than any she had seen before. He bounced up to sit on his knees and towered over her. He took her face into his hands, taking in every detail he could. He must be dreaming. He must have fallen asleep after he returned from the party, and this was a dream.

“Doll, I – Are you serious?” If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. She laughed and placed her hands over his. She nodded and he swore her smile was brighter than the sun. “Lord, doll... I – I love you so much.”

His eyes dropped down to her lips as her tongue darted out. “Really?”

“Of course! How could I not be?” He ran one hand over her hair, letting it fall to rest along her jaw. “You – you’re everything to me, doll. I’d do anything if it meant that I could be by your side, even if you didn’t love me.”

Her smile wobbled and tears filled her eyes. Her hand gripped his t-shirt and tugged him closer. “Kiss me.”

Bucky didn’t need any more prompting than that. He bent over her and captured her lips in a searing kiss. Everything he hadn’t been able to express through words, he tried to convey in his kiss. His hands held her face and neck like she was the finest porcelain.

Her hands spread over his chest and trailed up around his neck. Her fingers toyed with the short hair at the base of his neck. The feeling sent chills down his spine. He remembers when she helped him cut his hair and how she had run her fingers through the shortened locks then.

The super soldier pulled away briefly, only to press his forehead against hers. Her eyes were still closed, and lips still parted. She looked divine. Her bright eyes slowly opened and met his. And it felt like he was being seen for the first time.

How could anyone so perfect actually exist. And how could they love me?

“You’re perfect for me, Buck.”

His eyes widened and he pulled away slightly. Had she -? She shook her head.

“Your expressions are sometimes enough to know what you’re thinking.” She sat up on her knees and cupped his face. She ghosted her lips over his cheeks, moving over his eyelids and down to his lips. When she pulled away she whispered against his skin.

“I have loved you since I first met you. And when I saw you I thought to myself, in the words of Etta James, at last, my love has come along.” She sang the words and it sounded like the voice of an angel. It gave Bucky the little bit of courage he needed to ask her what he’s wanted to ask her all night.

“Stay with me tonight?” She kissed him again in reply.

“I didn’t plan on going back to my apartment tonight anyway.” Bucky grinned at that and pulled her off the bed with him.

“Good, because I was only asking to be polite.” Bucky grinned slyly at her as he pulled the duvet and sheets back. He noticed she had brought her biggest and softest blanket from her bed. “You were really confident, weren’t you?”

She shrugged and grabbed the blanket from where she had deposited it on the armchair in the corner of the room. He took it and wrapped it snuggly around her shoulders. She gave a squeal when he swooped down and picked her up. He couldn’t help himself as he kissed her again before laying her down on the bed, and then again as he crawled in next to her.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Bucky could feel the cracks in his heart fusing, held together by the pure gold of her love. She cuddled closely to his side and laid her head on his chest. He brought his vibranium hand up to caress her cheek.

“I love you, too, James Buchanan Barnes.”