collared blouses

The Summer of the Seventies

Bell-bottoms, knitted crop tops, fringe - it seems as if retro has made a huge comeback. The fashion industry loves to embrace the next big thing, but this summer, we seem to be embracing a decade that has already come and gone, and is now back again! The SS15 shows in Paris, Milan, and London were heavily inspired by the iconic 70′s. Designers including Prada, Tom Ford, Gucci, Miu Miu, and Giambattista Valli- just to name a few- all showcased their throwback designs. So what trends should you expect to see this summer? Here are a few!

Keep reading

Dirty Minded Cap*

Pairing Steve Rogers x Reader
Rating: Explicit - 18+ only
Prompt: Hi there! I loved resolution! Can I request one where the reader usually wears contacts, but runs out and wears her glasses and Steve realizes he has a thing for the naughty librarian look? Total smut. (requested by @ballerinafairyprincess)
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: Oral sex (female receiving) and unprotected sex. [Sex is safer with a wrapper. Use condoms, folks.]
Author’s Note: I don’t take requests for the moment, but this one has been sent to me after I’ve started posting on this blog, so I thought I could write it and I actually like the prompt. Hope you like it too, though. xx

    You dragged your feet to the kitchen of the Avengers compound, setting a pile of files and books on the counter. Sighing, you reached for the coffee pot and poured yourself a mug. You hummed a long soft moan as you swallowed the hot drink and you leaned against the fridge, looking down and drinking until a certain famous Russian redhead came in.

    “I didn’t know you wore glasses,” Natasha smiled and she poured herself a cup of coffee.

    “I woke up late and I didn’t have time to put in contacts.” You whined, clinging to the rest of the steaming hot liquid and you breathed it in.

    “You know what they say about men loving women wearing glasses,” she obviously quipped and you rolled your eyes playfully.

    “Yeah, of course. Everybody likes the nerd, right?” You chuckled and Steve walked in, joining Natasha behind the counter. “Hi, Steve,” you greeted, watching as his body tensed up when he heard your voice.

    “Y/N,” his smile faded away as he noticed the device perching on the top of the bridge of your nose. “Glasses? You told me you hate them.”

    “I do, but I had no choice. Nat will explain… Sorry, guys, I’ve got a lot of work waiting,” you took back your papers, walking past him with a smile. “See you later, Captain.”

    Keep reading


    Jack Sparrow

    Admiration, attraction, smut

    Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean

    Request:  “Heyyy!!! In celebration of POTC 5 coming out could you do a Jack Sparrow x reader or imagine whichever one you choose where the both of you get marooned on an island by Barbossa and his crew and things get heated like a little more than Jack and Elizabeth in POTC 1. And then like you guys find a way of the island and yeah. I don’t exactly know how but yeah! Thanks <3333”

    Word count: 927

    gif is not mine.

    Keep reading

    Mad: Part 13

    Originally posted by younggjaebum

    “We’re all a little crazy on the inside, some are just better at hiding it than others.”

    Warning: Contains smut, violence and tense situations in some chapters

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

    Keep reading

    Title: Back to the Future (Reader x Peter Parker) 

    Summary: The reader is sent on a mission by Howard Stark to travel seventy-one years into the future to collect all of the information that they can without having their cover blown. Is it possible?

    Word Count: 1604

    A/N: THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN. I’m actually obsessed and I’m SO PROUD OF IT LOL. I hope you guys enjoy it! and let me know if you want a part two? 

    PART 2

    Keep reading

    Unfaithful: This Day (Bill Skarsgård)

    Part 5

    She ran as fast as she could to the washroom. Bending over the stark white porcelain, she emptied the contents of her stomach into the water below, gripping the sink counter with her hand. She didn’t even think there was anything left to throw up, she had been sick so often the past week.

    At first she thought it a side affect of all the stress she was dealing with, but it was happening every day. It hit randomly, while she was typing away at work, watching television at home and most dreadfully, when she was walking home from Victoria’s after their wednesday wine night. Throwing up in the streets was not something she planned on getting used to.

    She wasn’t daft, she knew what could likely be warranting her sickness. It scared her more than anything. She knew that there was a high chance she was pregnant with Bill’s child, in the days leading up to their breakup they were having even more sex than usual. She couldn’t help but be frustrated, of course it had to be now that she was pregnant, not when they were happily together.

    She stood slowly, not trusting her own feet and feeling a bit lightheaded, and flushed the toilet. The sick, vile feeling invaded her mouth, causing her to fill up a glass of water from the sink and wash the ickiness out. After swishing the water in her mouth, she spit it into the sink.

    She looked into the mirror in front of her, both hands clasping the marble counter, before leaning forward, placing all of her weight on her palms and looking down. So many emotions flooded through her, but most importantly, she had to know.

    She had scheduled the day off work on Friday, knowing that whatever the test said, she was not going to be able to work.

    Victoria had no idea, neither did Tyler; she had told no one. It was like one big secret, if no one else knew about it, maybe it didn’t exist. But it was time to face the facts, and it was that exact mantra that lead her to the nearest Apotek Hjärta, a Swedish drug store, that morning whilst shopping.

    She had surveyed the whole store beforehand to make sure Bill nor any of her friends or family happened to be there, she couldn’t have handled that. Luckily, it was almost empty. She began to scan the shelves, looking for the pregnancy section.

    The word ‘CLEARBLUE’ on a small package caught her attention immediately. She picked it up and examined it, reading “Only test that tells you how many weeks” and “Over 90% accurate.” It seemed as good as any.

    With the package in hand, she strode to the cash, preparing herself for the awkward conversation that would surely come. She could already hear the pre-congratulatory praises, well wishes, goodlucks and the expression of childish joy of knowing someone else’s secret. Yet when she reached the checkout, she felt relieved.

    A gentle looking old woman greeted her with a smile that deepened the wrinkles around her lips. She had her ivory white hair pulled into a classic clipped updo, only a few wisps of her white hair hung by her ears, and she wore a cream knit button-up sweater over a purple and light grey collared blouse. Her blue eyes were filled with such kindness that she couldn’t imagine feeling any more comfortable.

    She gave the older woman a genuine smile in return, feeling momentarily relieved of all worries, then placed the pregnancy test on the counter.

    The lady took the package and smiled, looking up at her with a gleam in her joyous eyes.

    She smiled half-heartedly in return, biting her lip to keep her emotions inside. She’s right to smile, this should be a happy occasion. I should be thrilled to possibly be pregnant with my lover’s child. Yet it was not that simple, and her weak smile showed that.

    The old lady saw that her smile was not one of happiness, but that she was filled with sorrow.

    “What are you thinking, Dear?” she spoke.

    Even her voice sounded angelic, sweet and pure. She knew that no one else could be a better console.

    She placed on hand on the counter and ran the other through her hair, eyes turning glassy.

    “I think I know… in my heart. I feel so alone and I don’t… think I’m ready,” she managed, looking into the woman’s blue eyes sadly.

    The lady placed her wrinkled hand on top of hers and gave it a soft, reassuring squeeze.

    “There are always options, remember that. Things will turn out in whichever direction you choose,” she promised.

    She wiped her eyes with her free hand, sniffing before looking back at the woman.

    “I… I loved him and… we’re not together anymore,” she explained, her voice shaking, “He… he was unfaithful.”

    The lady felt greatly for the young woman in front of her, she looked so melancholy and nervous to learn the news of her possible pregnancy, something she should be excited about, not dreading. Unbeknownst to the young woman, the old lady knew almost exactly how she felt.

    “My husband slept with someone else a long time ago. I had just had our first boy, Maklolm. He came home one day after work and told me he had been with his secretary. Dear, I was so upset that I took our baby boy and went to my parent’s home without saying a word!” gaining a smile from the young woman, “But after a while, we spoke and I decided to give him a second chance, because in all of the years we had spent together before the incident, we loved each other more than anything.”

    The young woman was still processing everything, the older lady did indeed have a similar story to hers.

    “And you’re still together?” she asked softly.

    The older woman gave her an affectionate smile and nodded, “For fifty-five years.”

    Her story hit home with her, for all the years that she had been with Bill, he had never shown interest in anyone else, had loved her deeply and told her that she was the only woman he would want to bear his children. He had been as committed to her as she was to him.

    “It’s so fresh, raw. It hurts. I… I can’t help but wonder why I wasn’t good enough,” she confessed, and it was the first time she had spoken those words out loud. While half of the struggle was the act of cheating, she kept thinking about why he would do it in the first place, which lead her to that conclusion; she wasn’t good enough for him.

    The lady squeezed her hand again and looked into her eyes, “It always does at the beginning. Time will help you heal, or maybe you’ll decide that he isn’t the one for you. Either way, you are worth the world, Dear.”

    She couldn’t imagine herself with anyone else, in spite of everything. No, she only saw herself sleeping with Bill, marrying Bill and growing old with Bill. There was nobody else.

    “You will know what to do when you take the test, whatever the result,” the lady promised, “And if you need someone to call, just look up ‘Agatha Lindberg’ in your phonebook.”

    The young woman placed her second hand over the lady’s that covered her own, giving it a small squeeze.

    “Thank you for everything,” she said earnestly, looking at the lady with an abundance of gratitude.

    The lady smiled again, those gleaming, kind eyes on display again, “Anytime, Dear. You’ll know what to do.”

    She avoided a call from Bill, most likely to firm up their dinner plans for the night, on her way home. In no way could she handle hearing his voice leading up to what she was going to do. If she wasn’t pregnant, it would be foolish to tell him so, and if she was, she didn’t know what she planned to do. She couldn’t bear to think of Bill’s reaction; he would never be angry, he always pressed her to start a family, but he couldn’t possibly be happy with it in everything that was happening. More than that, she was scared to tell him if she didn’t chose to keep it, she would rather do it alone and keep that secret forever.

    The elevator ride up to her floor seemed excruciatingly slow, it was taunting her.

    When she finally made it to her apartment, she knew that there was no point in wasting time. Time wouldn’t change if she was pregnant or not, it would only make her worry about the result more. So she unknotted the ties on her jacket, slipped it off and dropped it on the stool along with her purse.

    She headed to the bathroom with the test in hand.

    She swore time moved slower. The tick tick of the clock became almost unbearable.

    Everyone said that the result would appear within three minutes, this gave her up to three minutes of full-fledged worry.

    Tick tick.

    She held the test in her hand tightly, eyes bearing blinking as she stared down at the grey reader.

    There was only two options, the test would read ‘Not Pregnant’ or ‘Pregnant’ and tell her how many weeks along she was. She assumed that she couldn’t be more than two weeks pregnant if she were to be.

    Tick tick.

    Her body was rigid.

    Tick tick.

    Time stopped.


    She screamed, loud and out of sheer terror, her hand went numb and she dropped the test unconsciously. Her eyes were wide, pupils heavily dilated. Fear coursed through through her whole body and she couldn’t stand anymore. She slipped to the cold, tiled floor and leaned against the wall, arms curled around her legs which were pulled into her chest.

    She cried into her legs, tears spilling down her cheeks. She felt everything all at once, and she was completely alone.

    She sat huddled in a fetal position, one that her own baby would soon take.

    It was late afternoon when she decided that a walk down by the water would do her good. It would only be more destructive to stay in the apartment alone with her spinning thoughts; fresh air would be nice.

    She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her black wool coat and closed her eyes, feeling the gentle breeze fanning over her exposed skin.

    She felt different. She looked the same, but it was the knowledge that there was something growing inside of her, her and Bill’s child, that made her feel unreal. She placed a hand over her stomach, knowing that she wouldn’t feel anything, not a heartbeat, kick or bulging stomach, but that something was there.

    She strolled to the black iron railing that overlooked the water and held onto it, leaning slightly forward as the wind blew her hair back.

    Unbeknownst to her, Bill had been calling and leaving her numerous text messages. Ten voicemails filled up her lock screen, along with worried, frantic and almost angry text messages. He had no idea what she was going through, he only thought that she was flaking out on him. Maybe she was nervous or scared to talk to him, yet those thoughts filled him with hope; if she felt that way, it must mean she still cared. He hoped she wasn’t ignoring him out of pure hatred.

    Her phone kept ringing and buzzing for twenty minutes. That was until, Bill decided to take matters into his own hands.

    They had just returned from Stellan and Megan’s after a long night of celebrating Kolbjörn and Alexander’s birthdays, since they are only a day apart in late August. The night consisted of a fun cake for the young Skarsgård and lots of drinks for the older one.

    She headed straight to their bedroom, ready to change into her slip and relax. She entered their walk-in-closet adorned with dark, rich wood and unzipped her dress, allowing the smooth fabric to slip down her body and pool at her feet. Grabbing a hanger, she picked up the fallen dress and rehung it before placing it back onto the rack. She discarded her underwear into the laundry hamper.

    She had just finished putting on her white slip when Bill appeared in the doorway.

    “Did you enjoy yourself?” He asked, leaning against the mahogany wood of the doorframe.

    She sent him a smile, “I did. I absolutely adore little Kolbjörn. Yourself?”

    She looked incredibly nonchalant whilst she bent down, one hand on the wood counter, to take off her heels. He always felt something deep inside of him whenever she mentioned his younger half-brothers.

    “Yes, it was a good party,” he agreed.

    She strolled across the room and stood on her toes to place her heels back in their place amongst the other countless pairs.

    When she turned back around, she wondered why he was only standing in the door and not getting undressed.

    “Ossian is especially fascinated by you,” he noted.

    She nodded in consideration, “I suppose so, he’s a wonderful kid. Your father and Megan did well.”

    She had a hunch to where he was going with this conversation, the topic of his younger family tended to always go in the same direction. He knew that she loved them, and hoped that they could have little Skarsgård’s of their own to enjoy.

    “Do you ever think about it?” he wondered, causing her to look into his eyes.

    “I do,” she said, voice quieter than a moment before.

    He slowly advanced on her, eyes watching her closely.

    “When will we try?” He asked her.

    He was standing so close to her, only a sliver separated them. She placed her hands on his upper arms, running them down to his wrists where he took her hands into his. His eyes proved that he was serious this time, they should come up with an answer.

    She opened her mouth, yet nothing came out. She knew that he was simply waiting for her word, he would take her when ever she told him that she wanted to try. It felt like a lot of pressure to be the one deciding when they would begin.

    But she felt ready.

    Meeting his gaze, she squeezed his hand, “Now.”

    His pale eyes widened in disbelief, she had always told him that she was not ready.

    Yet he pressed his lips against hers in a moment of passion, he was so undeniably in love. He was overjoyed that they would finally do this, have their children of their own. She continued to amaze him.

    She responded with an equal amount of passion, a bubbling feeling of excitement deep in her stomach; they were doing it. She reached to undo the buttons of his black dress shirt hastily. He broke the kiss to take her hands in his and look her in the eyes.

    “Are you certain?” he asked, wanting there to be no regrets between them. He would continue to wait if she told him so.

    She gazed up at him with parted lips and he brushed her hair back. Her hands ceased all movements on his chest.

    “Make love to me.”

    With that, he pulled her flush against his body, reached to lift her into his arms, and strode back to their bedroom.

    They always had a great sex life, but that night was different. He made slow, deep love to her, both of them thinking about the child that could be inside of her once he came.

    It was much more than sex.

    It was just past six when she decided to make her way back to her apartment.

    She felt guilty about ignoring Bill, knowing that surely he must have left her a few calls and text messages. But she hoped he would get the message, she wasn’t interested in seeing him that night. If she wasn’t pregnant, that may have been different, but she was and she could not face him. She could not go through a whole dinner keeping that massive secret from him, it would eat her up.

    The doors of the elevator slid open slowly.

    She looked down as she unknotted the ties of her jacket, focussing on undoing the knot she had made.

    It was only when she rounded the corner that she looked up.

    Leaning against the wall beside the door of her apartment was Bill.

    She wanted to cry.

    *Tags: @mizz-kraziii  @winter-slays @hahahannah28 @skarsgardtrash @book-wyrm-snacks @lyra-timelord @jasmineladjevardi @diva-skywalker-af   @mimiloosblog @capricorn-bliss @scarlet-doll-13@negan5589 @lukesriff @allkundsofwrong @diianawonka @wonderlust-luna@cvrousel@weallhaveadestiny@gordonramsayisking@booklover2929@teenageglasshouse @michelleexk@sihakrios28 @headoverhiddles @sergeant-bullshit@destielsangels @dickseverywhere @namelesslosers@negansonicteenagefathead @allkundsofwrong @partypoison00

    If you want or no longer want to be tagged, comment or submit.*


    Hollow Point

    Date: March 28, 2017
    Art: Juujishou (@vosteium)
    Story: @gunnerpalace
    Beta: @synoshian, @sequencefairy, @duckiesteasmiles
    Chapters: 3 (unfinished)
    Word Count: ≈17,800
    Rating: M (likely future E)
    Genres: romance, thriller, action, crime, drama
    Warnings: blood, violence, angst, trauma

    Summary: United States Air Force A1C Ichigo Kurosaki wanted to get away. Against all odds he’s assigned to Security Forces at Yokota Air Base, under an hour from home. Seirei-gumi Yakuza family “Older Sister” Rukia Kuchiki wanted to fit in. Dispatched to Karakura, she discovers a plot to overturn Japan’s criminal underworld. Their chance meeting is anything but, and they’ll only survive the web of lies cast over Tokyo’s concrete jungle by sticking together.

    Notes: This is the start of a (long) retelling of the series within a realistic (non-fantasy/supernatural) setting. You can read the notes if you’d like (1, 2, 3) although you’re warned that there are spoilers of upcoming events and some of the information is out of date. Big shout out to my artist and beta readers, you’ve all been lovely and I couldn’t have done it without you guys! And thank you to IRBB chat for the positive encouragement!

    Mood Music:

    Chapter 1: Neon Rain

    Tuesday, August 17, 2004

    Neon rain fell in sporadic sheets, always hot. Asphalt steamed, glowing with rippling prismatic bands. Every color of the rainbow coruscated, glinting off umbrellas—mostly clear plastic—that hurried to and fro.

    A white and lilac wagasa parasol advanced steadily through the bustle. It bore an unseasonable lunar crescent of snowflakes and was lit from below by carefully concealed soft white LEDs.

    Rukia strode beneath it with poise and grace, immune to the heat and humidity. Civilians flowed by her on instinct, like schools of fish about a predator. She wore a Western-style two-piece suit—a black jacket and slacks—and the collar of her white blouse rested open above the former’s lapels.

    To all appearances she made for a plausible—if rather short—office lady, yet her bearing alone suggested something was off. If one looked carefully, her dress shoes hinted at the story. However, the wagasa, and especially the oversized pink pair of almost-oval shades she had on, really advertised what she was—the street was lit up, but the sun had set almost two hours before.

    It wasn’t long before she passed yet another nondescript alleyway leading off the thoroughfare. Her shoes splashed in a puddle that echoed in optical riot as she halted. She turned and trekked into the gloom, taking off her sunglasses and letting her parasol light the way. It was soon the only source of illumination, silhouetting her as she disappeared around a corner and vanished from the night.

    Continue reading Chapters 1–3 on AO3 or FFN!

    Liberty Pt.7

    Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peggy x Steve, Wanda x Sam

    AU: Pirates of the Caribbean Universe

    Characters: Bucky Barnes, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker, Baron Zemo, Brock Rumlow, Alexander Pierce, surprise character!

    Warnings for this fic: Angst, smut, running away, profanity, violence, self defense practicing, injury, alcohol.

    Warnings for this chapter: Hungover!Reader, kisses and tickling (fluff), violence (slight gore) sexual harassment, implied necrophilia (shit gets real guys im sorry) death, family issues, guns, daggers, threats.

    Word Count: 3217

    A/N: enjoy, put a lot of thought into this chapter, my head is spinning! I’m also taking the heading out of new chapters now to keep it tidier.

    Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6


    “Y/N… Did your father ever tell you where that lullaby is from?” Bucky asked, he could feel the unwanted tears pool in his eyes.

    “Mmm, he ne’er told me, why’d y’ask Buck?” You mumbled in your relaxed state.

    “Doll… That’s a lullaby only pirates know.”


    You were fast asleep before you could hear the words, the hangover hitting you prematurely. Bucky shifted you off of his lap to lay on your side on the king size bed. He admired your sleeping form; hair mussed and fanned against the pillow behind you, lips parted ever so slightly, a light snore coming from your mouth. He chuckled before draping the covers over you and kissing your temple.

    As Bucky shifted out of the bedchamber, he made his way to the main deck to Steve, Peggy, Sam and Wanda. Both couples were dancing merrily as Bucky approached them. Judging by his scrunched features, they knew something was amiss.

    Psst, guys, I need to to tell you something, like, right now.

    They all gathered to the galley, ushering the two men that were situated in there outside.

    What’s happened? Is everything alright, James?” Peggy pushed, worried for the man in front of her.

    I-I’ve just put Y/N to bed and, er,” Bucky stuttered, not knowing how to wrap his head around the subject, “she requested if she could sing me a lullaby, albeit it was actually her going to sleep, and… the one she sang, it… it was a pirate’s lullaby, thought some of the words were missing I recognized them perfectly. Her father is a governor, she told me herself- she told me her father used to sing it to her when she was a babe, her mother had died during childbirth.”  

    It took a while for the group to adjust to Bucky’s confession, the thought of you knowing such a rare poem, known only to pirates, shook them.

    Steve cleared his throat, “Surely there must be some coincidence? Maybe… Maybe her father heard it from someone whom he was traveling the seas with?” He pondered, and Peggy wrapped her hands around his arm, squeezing him with a smile.

    Steve, always the man who had faith in the most unlikely people, even if he didn’t know them.

    N-No, I wouldn’t think so. We all know Pirates sing those lullabies to their own kin, they don’t sing them when they’re wandering or in enemy territory, or anywhere off their ships, for that matter. There must be some sort of connection?” Bucky was pacing now, making conspiracies throughout his head and Wanda cleared her throat.

    Oh, merciful God… Bucky, you do know who’s been missing for nineteen years, right? He hasn’t been seen by a living soul, he was only known by his pirate name. The Trading Company never caught him because they could never locate him, therefore they never knew what he looked like. My…My father told me-

    Oh, don’t say his name. I beg of you.” Bucky cried, everyone’s eyes were on him. The realization and fear was written on all of their faces.

    We have to think of a plan, Bucky,” Sam mumbled.

    Bucky kicked a lone stool before rubbing his face. “You’re correct, Sam. We need to make a plan tonight, Steve, Peggy,” Bucky looked up at the tall blonde and short brunette, earning two small nods, “what are your thoughts on accompanying us to Singapore?


    The Governor stood by the large grandfather clock, the time was 8:46 pm and he was holding his daughter’s pale blue dress in his withering hands. He made his way to the main deck of his ship, where Peter awaited.

    Sir, I swear. I haven’t seen her or two weeks. She didn’t say a word to me - like she would have - she would have left a note or a letter or a secret sort of hint. I’ve only just found her dress underneath my bed, a pair of pants and a blouse of mine have gone missing too. She only mentioned once - and this was months ago - that she wanted to go away and never come back. I’m sorry, Sir.” Peter stuttered, his fingers tapping against one another as the crease between his brows deepened. The young man was upset, worried, all the negative emotions rushing towards him full throttle like a tidal wave. He felt heartbroken because you were his best friend- his only friend apart from the mule that shifted the grinds and gears in the blacksmiths.

    It’s okay, Peter, you didn’t know,” The man reassured him, patting him on the back. “Why don’t you eat something, boy? I’m sure you’re famished after all the interrogation, help yourself to some fruit and water.

    Peter muttered thanks as he plucked an apple from the fruit crate.

    I’d like you to accompany me, Peter, I want you to help me find my daughter.

    It’d be an honour, Sir.

    Let’s hoist the sails then, Mr. Parker.


    The sun had risen, the blinding rays blinding your awakening form. You looked at the small clock hung against the wall of the bedchamber and gasped; it was half nine in the morning, you were normally awake by eight.

    You looked beside you to find Bucky’s side of the bed empty, the memories of last night’s rendezvous flowing through your head, the dancing the alcohol, the shooting the throwing up, all of it. But there was something missing, you felt, something important.

    As you scrambled to get up, a throbbing pain occurred between your eyes.


    So this is what it feels like? The effects of the rum from the party had definitely turned your brain into a whirlwind of blood, sending you straight to your knees with a small cry.

    You suddenly heard footsteps coming towards the bedchamber, you looked up to see Bucky coming to crouch by your side.

    Oh, sweet Jesus, Y/N, are you alright?” Bucky asked, his warm hands coming to lift you up and plop you down on the bed gently.

    I-I don’t know, Buck. I just need some water…” You looked up at him. His eyes were surrounded by purple again, a dark shadow. Judging by his clothes, he hadn’t even come to bed last night.

    I know that look, doll, what’s wrong?” The tall brunette kneeled in front of you, his hands gently rubbing at your bare thighs.

    You didn’t sleep last night, why, Bucky? You know it makes you feel unwell.


    Come on, my love, spit it out. Tell me how you’re feeling and what’s on your mind.” You urged, your eyes still squinting because of the harsh rays of sunlight pouring through the small windows. You brought your small hands to run through his dark hair, lightly scratching at his scalp.

    You’re going to have to take this in… carefully. Well, last night, you were absolutely smashed, no doubt about it,” You groaned at the words, scared that you did anything embarrassing. “you… You were resting your head on my lap as you were drifting off. You asked if you could sing me a lullaby,” You turned beet-red in embarrassment. “What you sang…fuck…” He rested his forehead on your stomach and breathed deeply.

    Oh, someday this chair may be a boat for another pair and you and your baby will sail the sea.” He mumbled the words, the octaves of his voice slightly deeper.

    Within this same rocking chair, and as we rock and hum and sing so you will go sailing too,” You continued.

    And pirate dreams, with sweep and with swing, will take baby and boat and you.” Bucky looked up at you then, meeting your bright eyes. You felt the tears prick at the corners; your father had always sung that to you when you were small, and at times when you couldn’t sleep as a young adult and the realisation hit you. “Y/N… it’s a pirate’s lullaby.

    I-I gathered that from the…the…” Your chest started heaving as the panic hit you. Was your father a pirate? Was he a wanted man? Was his name even his actual name?

    Darling, shh, shh, it’s going to be okay. Now, I need you to listen to me, please, Y/N?” Bucky gently grabbed your face in his calloused hands, using his thumbs to wipe away the salty tears smearing your cheeks. “We’ll figure this out, but I’m going to have to ask you some questions- that’s if you don’t mind?” You shook your head.

    Bucky crawled onto the bed and ushered you to sit on his lap, facing him. His hands pulled at your waist, egging you into coming closer to him, you obliged and shuffled up, your smooth thighs rubbing against the cord-like fabric of his trousers. You felt one of Bucky’s large hands rub up and down soothingly on your back and you relaxed in his touch.

    Now, my love, I’ll probably only have to ask you about three questions.” You hummed in response, tears still slipping from your eyes. “Could you tell me what your father looks like?

    You described him as a man with slightly tan skin, wrinkles upon his face, and when he didn’t wear the grey Governor’s wig, he donned a head full of jet black hair which was usually ties back. He sported a dark grey to almost black beard, always trimmed neatly. As you finished your description, Bucky inhaled shakily.

    Did he ever mention to you about a ship called ‘The Queen Anne’s Revenge?’”

    No, I don’t think he did.” You whispered, playing with the ruffled edge of the collar of his blouse.

    There was once a pirate named Blackbeard. 19 years ago…He disappeared off the face of the earth, no one knew where he went, where he is at this very moment.” You furrowed your brow, trying to string things together in your mind. “Rumours spread amongst pirates that the notorious captain had found love in a woman of good fortune, she was a Lady, born not to royalty but to wealth. He wasn’t attracted to her money, but to her soul.” Bucky took a deep breath and continued his explanation. “His ship was the Queen Anne’s Revenge and when he disappeared, she disappeared with him, maybe she lies at the bottom of the ocean, who knows. But I must ask you this, Y/N. What is your father’s name?

    Edward. Edward Teach.” You replied.


    Bucky felt as if his whole world had jolted to a stop, he felt the colour drain from his face as he heard the name fall from your lips.

    Blackbeard, also known as Edward Teach (amongst pirates) was the thing all men feared aside the gallows. Bucky had never met the man, but his father used to tell him stories about the wickedness; how he could use his sword to steer his ship and maim mutineers with a flick of his fingers.

    If it wasn’t coincidental, and Blackbeard was your father, everyone surrounding you would be in mortal danger. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

    Bucky gently squeezed your hip, “Your father is Blackbeard.

    “Is that… a bad thing?

    Many people have fallen to his blade, he had no mercy, killed innocent men and women. Some say he was full of dark magic- that his sword was cursed. He attempted to take command of the sea, but failed, that’s when he went missing. Most pirates assumed he had been taken to Davy Jones’ Locker- but they were obviously wrong.” You took a sharp inhale of breath, pulling back to look Bucky dead in the eyes.

    He’ll come for us, he’ll find us. My father didn’t really pay much attention to me after I turned 18- he arranged for me to be married to Commodore Zemo but-

    Zemo?” Bucky choked, his turquoise eyes wide with shock and his mouth agape.

    Yes, Baron Zemo… A weird man, really, do you know him, Bucky?” You questioned, hands still resting lightly on his neck.

    Not personally, but we’ve had a few spats during my years sailing the sea. He tried to send me to the gallows once, I’m surprised you never heard.” You winced at the thought of Bucky being hanged. He looked at you then, a hand creeping its way to your face, a soft thumb rubbing your jaw.

    He pulled you a bit closer as he placed a soft kiss to your nose. You blushed and giggled as he began to pepper kisses all over your face, the tickling feeling making you forget about the life threatening circumstances for just a few fleeting moments.

    I must admit, waking up how I did wasn’t the best way to wake up, neither was the whole ‘your father is blackbeard!’ but, right now, with you? I can get through my day.” You murmured, pressing a tender kiss to Bucky’s lips. Your Bucky.

    I’m sorry you had to wake up like that. Y’know, if I could rewind to the day you boarded my ship I wouldn’t have grabbed you by the neck and scared the shit out of you- if I heard what had been going on I would have been way easier on you than I was at the beginning.” Bucky admitted.

    My sweet, I wouldn’t have it any different. I’m here now, I’m happier than I was back at Port Royal, I wouldn’t trade it for the most rarest gold on this earth.

    Are you sweet talking me, princess?” You chuckled and then your smile faltered.

    Er, have Peggy and Steve left?

    No, actually, with all the whole… y’know, they’re accompanying us to Singapore.” He grinned as he saw your face light up. You done a double fist to the air and yelped when Bucky’s slender fingers tickled your soft sides, you were a laughing, fidgeting mess and he looked at you with the amount of admiration a smitten husband gives his wife.

    You are truly beautiful, Y/N, are you sure you’re not a mermaid?” Bucky chuckled.

    I’m not as beautiful as a mermaid, Bucky.

    True, you’re way more beautiful.” Bucky began to tickle you again, making you fall backwards onto the large with a thump. Bucky laid by your side and held your hand in his whilst you both stared up at the ceiling.

    So… what’s the master plan for today?” You mumbled.

    Well, Peggy and Sam are going to teach you how to shoot properly until you can get the hang of it yourself. Steve, Wanda and I are going to inform the crews what is going to happen, or what could happen, hopefully there won’t be any backlash or mass suicide as soon as they hear the word ‘Blackbeard’


    The fuck do you mean Y/N’s father is Blackbeard?!” You heard Brock scream. You were on the quarterdeck of the ship with Peggy and Sam, firing a few rounds for practice. You turned back to Sam and he looked at you with a face and he mumbled ‘ignore him, he’s an arrogant piece of shit

    Men! Listen to me!” Bucky yelled, clearly irritated at the hustling and bustling of worried and angered voices. “This has all happened so suddenly. Y/N didn’t know until I had to confirm it for her. She is just as shaken as we are!

    The rest of what he said was white noise as you tried to focus on shooting. The small blasts in front of you the only thing you could really hear.


    Later that night, you had a small moment of despair and anxiety. Your father was Blackbeard. Your father was a murderer, a fugitive.

    As you leaned against the railing of Bucky’s ship, you looked up at the stars. As a little girl, your father told you that your mother was up there somewhere, always looking down on you. But now you didn’t know what to believe, first your father not informing you about who and what he was, what if your mother was still alive?

    You felt a stray tear slip down your cheek, you hastily wiped it away as you heard heavy footsteps approach you.

    No need for tears.” The voice was gruff, and you instantly recognized it from earlier; Brock Rumlow.

    B-Brock, er, what are you doing out here? I thought you’d be sleeping…

    No time to sleep when Blackbeard has resurfaced.” He snapped, and you suddenly saw him flinch. You felt a cold blade being held against your neck as he pressed his front onto your back, squishing you between his tall body and the hard wood of the ship.

    W-What are you-” You stopped speaking as the blade was pressed harder against your neck.

    Now you listen to me, princess. I don’t care if you’re the Captain’s little slut, I will slice your fucking throat open, let you drain and then dump your body in the ocean for your dear father to find, after me and my friend Alexander have had a little bit of fun with you,” You could feel the pulsing behind your eyes and the burning in your throat as you struggled to keep the pained cries from slipping out. The words coming from his mouth were vile like nothing you heard before, you were disgusted and felt the familiar sensation of vomit rise in your throat. “I’m not risking Blackbeard’s blade again,Again? So this is a grudge. “and I know for a fact he will find all of us, probably massacre us all just to get his precious little daughter back.

    By then you were shaking like a leaf, you weren’t going to get out of this.

    Give me one good reason I shouldn’t shoot your fuckin’ nasty piece of shit head off your neck right now.” Sam’s thick accent growled. Thank goodness, you were saved. You were stupid enough to come out here unarmed.

    As Brock turned his head, holding you still underneath his bulging arm, he heard a whirring surrounding his ears and red wisps of light swirled around his head and neck.

    You move that blade one inch and I will crush the bones in your neck to dust, then I will gladly watch you suffer.” Wanda. It was two against one, but you were still at a disadvantage; unarmed with the sharp metal still held against the soft skin of your neck, right on top of the hard cartilage. Your life was in this bastard’s hands, literally.

    Before you could think, a loud bang came from behind you, the sound of curdling blood strong in your ears and you felt the sticky texture of it and human tissue splatter against your skin. You felt the burly man’s body fall limp, the blade falling from his then clenched fist.

    You whipped around on your heel to see Bucky holding a rifle, the face he held was murderous and his eyes looked almost black in the dim light, it was almost as if he didn’t look like himself.

    Sam, fetch me Pierce, please.” Bucky’s voice was deeper than usual, yes, his voice would drop a few octaves when he was angry, but this was a whole other level.

    Your world had stopped. Your hair and skin was stained with the blood of a man you had never provoked, you were a statue, stuck, unwilling to move, the stench of iron in your lungs.

    And then everything was black.


    Tag list:

    @papi-chulo-bucky@tamianich@when-lighting-strikes@rachelle-on-the-run@hotemotionalmess@aubzylynn@marvel-fanfiction@confuzzled-panda@tahreemhaq576@gypsygirllover19@siobhanrebecca@jezzula@you-didnt-see-that-cuming@xxchexchickxx@imamoose@i-cannot-escape-this-fandom@buckybarnesbestbabe@erinvanlyssel@kenobi-and-barnes@vaisabu@adrianabribiescacortes@mellifluous-melodramas@vibraniumdoll​@scarlettsoldier @witheringblooddemon@langinator@barnescrazy​ @kaykayvoltage53 @topthis808@sketchbookthingz@willowtighe@inlovewithmydreams@crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons@buckycf

    Finally got around to editing my coord photo from the Spring meet. Thanks @missmaiko for being the excellent comm photographer! 

    Alice and the Pirates Harlequin Hat + the Mouse King Gualtiero Echarpe vest +  Arabesque Lame OTKs; Atelier Boz Aventi Pants; Innocent World Lace Sleeves Standing Collar blouse + Ribbon Loafer shoes; Jane Marple ring; Voodooodolly Bishop’s Blood ring; Moi Meme Moitie Gold Jewel Cross pendant; Dreamholic Toxic Unicorn boy wig, handmade mask + jabot + cuffs