a bittersweetness (one-shot)

Summary: When the war came, everything changed. It was inevitable that you would be pulled apart by it. You’d seen it happen when the first one came, this one wasn’t going to be any different.
Bucky enlisted as a soldier, you enlisted as a nurse, and Steve… Steve’s health didn’t allow him to go anywhere beyond his own backyard.
And yet, on the 31st of December, camped in Europe, you three reunite again.
Pairing: Hints of Steve x Reader. Cousins Reader & Bucky.
WC: 4.3k words
Warnings: Set in the 1940s. Canon divergence. Platonic relationships. Angst. Tension. Fluff. Emotional hurt/comfort. World War II. New Year’s Day. Some PTSD hints.

New Year's Day - Masterlist

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“I’m fine,” Bucky insisted as you adjusted the pillow behind him on the cot, doing your best to make him comfortable. His voice was firm, but the weariness in his eyes betrayed him. “I’ve been through worse.”

You ignored his protests, carefully straightening his arm to keep the IV in place.

“You were gone for a long time,” you countered, keeping your voice steady. “You’re dehydrated and exhausted. And probably doing even worse, if we actually get someone to examin you!”

A long time away’ was a gross understatement for what had actually happened.

Bucky had been kidnapped by the enemy, tortured for God knows how long. It took Steve — who was Captain America now, apparently — to get him back.

Not the scrawny, sickly kid you used to patch up after scraps in Brooklyn alleyways. He was tall now, impossibly strong, and wielding a shield. It felt like something coming out of a moving picture!

“I can recover from exhaustion by sleeping,” Bucky argued, his tone just full of exasperation, as if he had any right to it!

You shot him an unamused glare, your patience thinning.

“You can’t replace electrolytes and water by sleeping, Bucky. You need care. And if you think I’m going to sit back and do nothing while you recover from this, you don’t know me at all.”

It was strange, seeing him like this — hollowed out by what the war had done to him, by those days away.

It was easy for your thoughts to go to a simpler time, when the three of you — Bucky, Steve, and you — were inseparable.

Aunt Winnie had raised you like her own after your mother passed. She was your father’s sister, stepping in when he struggled to raise a daughter on his own. She treated you with the same love she gave Bucky and Stevie. It was always the three of you against the world.

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a bittersweetness (one-shot)

Summary: When the war came, everything changed. It was inevitable that you would be pulled apart by it. You’d seen it happen when the first one came, this one wasn’t going to be any different.
Bucky enlisted as a soldier, you enlisted as a nurse, and Steve… Steve’s health didn’t allow him to go anywhere beyond his own backyard.
And yet, on the 31st of December, camped in Europe, you three reunite again.
Pairing: Hints of Steve x Reader. Cousins Reader & Bucky.
WC: 4.3k words
Warnings: Set in the 1940s. Canon divergence. Platonic relationships. Angst. Tension. Fluff. Emotional hurt/comfort. World War II. New Year’s Day. Some PTSD hints.

New Year’s Day - Masterlist

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“I’m fine,” Bucky insisted as you adjusted the pillow behind him on the cot, doing your best to make him comfortable. His voice was firm, but the weariness in his eyes betrayed him. “I’ve been through worse.”

You ignored his protests, carefully straightening his arm to keep the IV in place.

“You were gone for a long time,” you countered, keeping your voice steady. “You’re dehydrated and exhausted. And probably doing even worse, if we actually get someone to examin you!”

A long time away’ was a gross understatement for what had actually happened.

Bucky had been kidnapped by the enemy, tortured for God knows how long. It took Steve — who was Captain America now, apparently — to get him back.

Not the scrawny, sickly kid you used to patch up after scraps in Brooklyn alleyways. He was tall now, impossibly strong, and wielding a shield. It felt like something coming out of a moving picture!

“I can recover from exhaustion by sleeping,” Bucky argued, his tone just full of exasperation, as if he had any right to it!

You shot him an unamused glare, your patience thinning.

“You can’t replace electrolytes and water by sleeping, Bucky. You need care. And if you think I’m going to sit back and do nothing while you recover from this, you don’t know me at all.”

It was strange, seeing him like this — hollowed out by what the war had done to him, by those days away.

It was easy for your thoughts to go to a simpler time, when the three of you — Bucky, Steve, and you — were inseparable.

Aunt Winnie had raised you like her own after your mother passed. She was your father’s sister, stepping in when he struggled to raise a daughter on his own. She treated you with the same love she gave Bucky and Stevie. It was always the three of you against the world.

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New Year’s Day (Masterlist)

Happy New Year, my dearest babes.

I hope you had a wonderful end of 2025, and that 2026 is the best of our lives.

Here’s a New Year’s Special collection just for you. We’ll have fluff, tears, comfort, smut… everything.


A BITTERSWEETNESS

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Summary: When the war came, everything changed. It was inevitable that you would be pulled apart by it – you’d seen it happen when the first one came, this one wasn’t going to be any different.
Bucky enlisted as a soldier, you enlisted as a nurse, and Steve… Steve’s health didn’t allow him to go anywhere beyond his own backyard.
And yet, on the 31st of December, camped in Europe, you three reunite again.
Pairing: Hints of Steve x Reader. Cousins Reader & Bucky.
WC: 4.3k words
Warnings: Set in the 1940s. Canon divergence. Platonic relationships. Angst. Tension. Fluff. Emotional hurt/comfort. World War II. New Year’s Day. Some PTSD hints.

OUR MIDNIGHTS

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Summary: Sam surprises you on New Year’s Eve.
Pairing: Sam Wilson x F!Reader
WC: 5.3k words
Warnings: Fluff. Smut. Mutual masturbation. Dirty talking. Very, very, very sweet. Proposals. Vaguely set after ‘The Falcon and the Winter Soldier’.

THE LAST DAY OF THE YEAR — 14th of January 2026

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Summary: Hiding away in Bucharest, you try to gain some sense of normalcy as you spend your first New Year’s Eve with Bucky.
WC: 4.1k words
Warnings: Canon compliant. Kinda. Angst. Comfort. Cuddling. Non-defined relationships. Set in the 2 year Bucky spent hiding in Bucharest. Very introspective, really. Fluffy.

(Read it on Patreon now)

I could have chosen you (and yes, I would) - XI/Final

WC: 1.9k words
Warnings: Fluff. Fun. Heavy petting. Naked people but no smut. The End.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

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You danced until your feet ached and then a little more, nearly falling sat when you came back to Bucky’s side, and your husband looked very amused.

“You had your fun?” he whispered into your ear.

You giggled.

“Lots of it,” you decided, falling with your head on his shoulder. “But I’m tired now. How long does the part go on?”

He chuckled.

“Well… it doesn’t quite stop,” he explained. “We lave, sleep and come back when we are up again. There is always some number of people dancing and eating and celebrating together.”

You turned to him, shocked.

“For a whole week,” James continued. “We don’t have any public appearances on the 31st, we mostly sleep, and then have a small and family bound New Year’s Eve.”

You exhaled, thinking a little bit.

“It sounds so exhaustive,” you touched his arm. “Seven whole days? Without a break during the day?”

He nodded, not seeming surprised.

“You have your 12 days of Christmas. It isn’t so different.”

Well… from that angle he was right, yeah.

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I could have chosen you (and yes, I would) - X

WC: 1k words
Warnings: Fluff. Fun. Christmas Traditions.

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Masterlist

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You twirled in your red dress, a gift from the Queen to all of her ladies, surprised with the level of detail the seamstress had put into the fabric.

“Well, don’t you look gorgeous,” your husband cheered as he came to your side.

You turned to him, surprised with his arrival.

“Oh, look at you,” you strode to him.

He was wearing the same colour, a little more masculine, but certainly in the theme.

Your blood was over, the last three days of it feeling much more comfortable than anytime before in your life.

You were happy.

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I could have chosen you (and yes, I would) - ix

WC: 1k words
Warnings: Tension. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

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When you woke up, Bucky was still by your side.

He usually woke up before you and left bed in a rush, and you would awake to an empty bed.

But this was very nice.

James was so big and warm, you often forgot it, but now that his arm was draped around you, you could not help realising it. It was a little heavy, and he felt like a living fireplace.

"Good morrow," your husband squeezed you, his face moving to hide in your neck.

You put a hand over his, caressing his knuckles.

"Good morning," you mumbled.

None of you moved.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked sweetly. "Any pain?"

You stretched a little bit.

"No pain," you told him.

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I could have chosen you (and yes, I would) - ix

WC: 1k words
Warnings: Tension. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

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When you woke up, Bucky was still by your side.

He usually woke up before you and left bed in a rush, and you would awake to an empty bed.

But this was very nice.

James was so big and warm, you often forgot it, but now that his arm was draped around you, you could not help realising it. It was a little heavy, and he felt like a living fireplace.

“Good morrow,” your husband squeezed you, his face moving to hide in your neck.

You put a hand over his, caressing his knuckles.

“Good morning,” you mumbled.

None of you moved.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked sweetly. “Any pain?”

You stretched a little bit.

“No pain,” you told him.

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I could have chosen you (and yes, I would) - VIII

WC: 1.4k words
Warnings: Tension. Angst. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort. Suspicion of infidelity but no actual infidelity.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

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Lady Darcy finished with your hair after a long process of braiding and twisting, pinning it up in a flower-like bum surrounded by more braids before reaching for the cloth of the hood one of them brought in for you and pinning it in place.

When she was done with your headwear, the bum was covered, but a large stripe of your hair was showing.

It was… daring.

Beautiful, but daring.

“There,” she smiled, giving you a smaller mirror. “Now the duke can see your hair colour all the time, he won’t forget.”

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I could have chosen you (and yes, I would) (VII)

WC: 1.4k words
Warnings: Tension. Angst. Fluff.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

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You grimaced at the pain in the lower belly as you woke up, confused for a moment - had James been rough last night? - before realising the true reason behind it.

Your blood.

Of fucking course. Always in the mornings, never during the day when you were ready for it.

“God,” you groaned, feeling the pain radiating to your back just as your husband moved stiffly by your side.

“Are you okay?” he called, turning to look at you.

Your marriage was… quiet. Uneventful.

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I could have chosen you (and yes, i would) - VII

WC: 1.3k words
Warnings: Tension. Angst. Fluff. Funny bits are provided by Bucky’s sister.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

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You looked out the small window of your cabin as Cassie braided your hair back tightly.

Your ship had arrived at the port in the morning when you were all sleeping, so you had to wait to leave, until everyone who was supposed to welcome you arrived. You were just finishing setting up to leave when it happened.

The whole way down to his country, James didn’t touch you a single night. Every bedtime, he would walk to your room, kiss your forehead and turn around to sleep. In the mornings, he would kiss your cheek and leave to whatever duties he had with his days.

Or to avoid you. You wouldn’t know.

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I could have chosen you (and yes, I would) - 5

WC: 950+ words
Warnings: Tension. Angst.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

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You watched with near-suspended breath as your things were loaded into the Royal Ship.

Your centre was still sore from the night. Just the morning after your wedding, you were leaving with your new husband to his home.

“I will certainly miss you, ma’am,” Anne declared, her voice a little affected as she spoke, sniffing as she hugged you.

“Are you sure you can’t come with us?” you asked, squeezing her hand. “They might let you if you ask.”

It was something had practically begged your father - after your engagement was settled, and you knew you had to move - but your stepmother was insistent she needed Anne, and that your husband would hire as many ladies-in-waiting as you wanted or needed.

As if Anne was replaceable and just a lady-in-waiting, and not your closest friend, not the one person who stayed by your side when your family changed.

She sniffed and kissed both of your hands.

“I can’t,” she lamented. “I would go if I could. Your family needs me, and my family is here too.”

You nodded, sad, and she continued to look at you, eyes watery and lips trembling a little.

“I’ll miss you,” she told you. “We will miss you very much.”

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I could have chosen you (and yes, I would) - 4

WC: 1.5k
Warnings: Vaginal sex. Very robotic sex.  Angst. Hurt/Comfort.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

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There were two guards leading the way as you left the boys’ room and a bunch of the queen’s ladies-in0waiting following you close on your way to your chambers.

There was no way in delaying the inevitable. Eventually, you would have to lay with your new husband.

Preferably, tonight.

Hopefully, it would be quickly, but you weren’t too confident with anything.

You could see the people waiting for you in the corridor leading to your chambers before they noticed you, but soon your presence was perceived, and they opened the space for you to pass through their obnoxiously large group.

When the door to your room was opened, you were happy to see the chamber before your bedroom wasn’t crowded.

The ladies closed the door, and you could see that the door to your bedroom was open.

When you stepped inside, James looked very relieved with your presence, standing beside the Archbishop, and only one of the women with you followed your steps inside it.

“I have requested that our bed is blessed before we undress,” your husband explained. “For better privacy. If you don’t mind.”

You relaxed a bit.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

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i could have chosen you (and yes, i would) - 3

Summary: To form an alliance with another Kingdom, your father arranges a marriage between you and James, the duke of Barnes and best friend of King Steve I of a neighbouring kingdom, and you struggle to make a relationship out of your arranged union.
WC: 800+ words
Warnings: Tension. Fluff. Slowburn.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

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Your husband didn’t ask you to dance.

After the church wedding, you were all reunited in your uncle’s castle, where he was throwing a party to celebrate your wedding, with a feast and lots of music.

Your brothers were happily dancing around with other kids, and your stepmother was exchanging little whispers with other ladies all around, probably gossiping.

You were seated by your husband’s side as he ate every so slowly and glared at the happy people, looming and quiet.

“Don’t you want to dance?” you suggested.

He had been sweet back at the church, asking you if you were alright, but other than that, there were no other words from him to you the whole day.

“I’m not a dancer,” he answered, struggling to cut off a piece of the meat in front of him, which had been there quite a bit of time.

You watched quietly for a moment, boomed and disappointed, and he grunted, impatient.

“Stupid knife,” James hissed, dropping it.

You looked at the place. It was a two-hand operation, not work for a single knife.

You reached out his abandoned knife, using your free hand to hold the meat as you slice it, and placed the big slices on James’ plate.

“More?” you asked.

Your husband shook his head, looking embarrassed, and you cleaned your fingers on a napkin before moving back.

“Thank you, lady wife,” he mumbled, at last.

“You’re welcome, lord husband.”

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i could have chosen (and yes, I would) - 2

Summary: To form an alliance with another Kingdom, your father arranges a marriage between you and James, the duke of Barnes and best friend of King Steve I of a neighbouring kingdom, and you struggle to make a relationship out of your arranged union.
WC: 1.1k words
Warnings: Arranged Marriage. Medieval AU. Light angst. 

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

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You stared down at the angular gable hood waiting for as Anne pined your hair back.

“Did you tell her I won’t wear it?” you asked.

Your friend stopped and looked at you through the mirror.

“She says you will,” she pointed out, continuing. “That the round bonnet is…”

Anne’s words stopped, and you turned to her, angry.

Every day, that woman worked hard to make your life worse, as if she had a vendetta against you to make your life miserable.

“Indecent,” she finished, hissing. “To have your hair out and showing like that, like the disgraced Queen.”

You scoffed. Disgraced… the Boleyn queen was unfairly judged and cast aside, so he could marry his third wife. She had done nothing wrong.

“Please, Y/N,” she spoke softly, reaching for you and raising your chin, making you look at your face. “It’s just one more day. Before the mid-day, you’ll be married, and you’ll wear whatever hood you want.”

You looked away, not wanting to fight her in this. It was a nice hope from her, that you would have freedom after this. But would you?

How many words had you exchanged with your husband? Ten would be too many.

James could be even worse than your stepmother. Some men would physically punish their wives whenever they did something they disliked.

Still, you stayed quiet as she pined the squared bonnet on your head, pining and placing it, and you sighed before standing up.

“Alright, then,” you decided. “Let’s go before we are dragged out.”

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i could have chosen (and yes, I would) - 2

Summary: To form an alliance with another Kingdom, your father arranges a marriage between you and James, the duke of Barnes and best friend of King Steve I of a neighbouring kingdom, and you struggle to make a relationship out of your arranged union.
WC: 1.1k words
Warnings: Arranged Marriage. Medieval AU. Light angst. 

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

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You stared down at the angular gable hood waiting for as Anne pined your hair back.

“Did you tell her I won’t wear it?” you asked.

Your friend stopped and looked at you through the mirror.

“She says you will,” she pointed out, continuing. “That the round bonnet is…”

Anne’s words stopped, and you turned to her, angry.

Every day, that woman worked hard to make your life worse, as if she had a vendetta against you to make your life miserable.

“Indecent,” she finished, hissing. “To have your hair out and showing like that, like the disgraced Queen.”

You scoffed. Disgraced… the Boleyn queen was unfairly judged and cast aside, so he could marry his third wife. She had done nothing wrong.

“Please, Y/N,” she spoke softly, reaching for you and raising your chin, making you look at your face. “It’s just one more day. Before the mid-day, you’ll be married, and you’ll wear whatever hood you want.”

You looked away, not wanting to fight her in this. It was a nice hope from her, that you would have freedom after this. But would you?

How many words had you exchanged with your husband? Ten would be too many.

James could be even worse than your stepmother. Some men would physically punish their wives whenever they did something they disliked.

Still, you stayed quiet as she pined the squared bonnet on your head, pining and placing it, and you sighed before standing up.

“Alright, then,” you decided. “Let’s go before we are dragged out.”

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