#“you know I would take care of your family if something happened”

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

From this poll, this series is born!

a/n: this is changing the dragons from not just mount, but to being able to shift into a human-like form at will...

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・In his dragon form, The Cannibal is larger than Vermithor, and three times nastier as well.

・With fire that breathed green, he seemed like an otherwordly creature to the people of Westeros.

・Once he was claimed, many came to see The Cannibal 'up close.' Crowds would form whenever you went flying; a sight that so many would tell their children, and their childrens children and so on.

・With sharp black horns that curled and protruded from the dragons head, he was terrifying.

・And you loved him.

・Many asked how you 'tamed' him. But that ... wasn't how it happened.

・Unlike many throughout history; he found you.

・And when he came snout to face with you, you did not balk. For dragons were your family's legacy. If you died by his flame, then so be it.

・The Cannibal sensed that.

・Maybe it was bravery. Maybe it was stupidity. Maybe it was the fact that you felt so alone that you did not care what may have happened.

・Your relationship with the Cannibal was different to other dragonriders and their mounts.

・You never chained him up and put him in the dragon pit.

・You gave him free range of the world. Just because you were tethered together did not mean that you owned him.

・For he was far older and experienced than you could ever be.

・The first time you saw your mount transform, you thought it was a dream. One wickedly wonderful dream.

・In his half form, he towers over you at 7.5 feet tall. With long onyx coloured hair partly braided, two glowing green eyes, pointed ears and a face so ... handsome yet scarred, menacing and well honestly a little terrifying. He looked like a death promise to those who look him in the eye.

・Some of his teeth are sharp as well, and he challenges anyone who looks in your direction.

・He's completely attached to you, because why else would he want to be around other people, other beings?

・His name? He was happy with being called Cannibal - but you told him he couldn't be out in society with it. So his 'human' name is: Vorzhul.

・The Cannibal/Vorzhul is very wary of others; as his time has been spent alone. He doesn't know how to converse with others without coming off as ... slightly crazy.

・That's one of the reasons why he becomes so attached to you. Not only because you are his bonded rider, but because he feels like his walls can come down.

・He can be quite funny at times -

・Particularly when he mind-speaks during something important.

・When you're feeling down, he reminds you that: "I'm eternally yours."

・So now you never feel lonely. Or that the world is against you. Because someone always has your back. No matter what you say or do.

・The knowledge that certain dragons can shift, is only known by certain people. High ranking people. Ones who have blood sworn not to tell another soul.

・One maester, your parents and the Hand of the King.

・Marriage is a difficult subject.

・Some shifters will allow their bonded to marry another. But not yours.

・Even if it is tried, he will turn into dragon form and eat those who come to marry you. And their families.

・So it is either, he marries you or a war will break out.

・When he's in his hybrid form, Vorzhul is able to understand English and High Valyrian. With some people he pretends not to know English and lets them talk shit until he responds.

・They usually excuse themselves (basically running away)

・When he's in his dragon form, he'll only take commands in High Valyrian though, just like every other dragon.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

No Social Skills (The Cannibal/Vorzhul) x No Social Skills Either, That's Why We're Bonded (You)

Undying Loyalty x2

"Think they'll try us?" x "Fuck I hope so."

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Found Family

Intertwined Destinies

Legacy and Legend

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys

I Need You by James Newton Howard

Me and the Devil by Soap&Skin

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.

・As you would think, he is completely dominant in bed. Rough; hands gripping you tight against him, teeth sinking into your skin without a second thought.

・His tongue decided it liked the taste of your skin, and started moving further and further downward. And then he pushed your legs apart and devoured you until you came three times ... in a row.

・His animalistic nature could not hold off when he was with you - the suppleness of your skin, the way you trembled underneath his grasp.

・He laughed when you finally wrestled to sit on top of him, only for him to buck you off and roll you onto your back:

"You will have to try better than that little one."

・He felt primal around you.

・Like a peace he never had, had finally found him.

・And sex was more than pleasure; it was about connecting with you. Becoming one with you.

"Just let it stay in a little longer ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved)"

You whispered back, "elilla (honey), you are too big, and it hurts."

He huffed and with a frown, slowly slid himself out of you.

"Are you pouting!"

"No."

"You are!"

"No I am not!"

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hey, do you have any tips for historical detective fiction?

(I would like to draw inspiration from our own history but create an Alternate Universe cause I'm too afraid to get things wrong, might as well make a new country or something from scratch with it's own history.)

Writing Notes: Historical Detective Fiction

Historical detective fiction is an important sub-category of historical fiction in general. As such, it should be judged by the same criteria applied to historical fiction; namely, that a certain verisimilitude is present.

All the events depicted may not have actually happened but the reader should believe that they could have happened.

Moreover, when real events are mingled with fictional ones, that mixing must appear to be natural.

Additionally, real historical characters must act in accordance with their distinguishing characteristics and in conformity with what we know about them.

Martin and Annette Meyers, authors of the Dutchman detective series, know and adhere to these standards.

Their careful adaptation of their novels to the demands of the historical genre has made them a model of historical detective writing.

Using the Fantasy Fiction Continuum, Historical Fiction edges a little further into the realm of Fantastical.

The author describes a past world that modern readers are unfamiliar with by painting mental pictures of times, locations, customs & cultures that no longer exist.

Some Tips from a Historical Fiction Writer:

The big hook for many readers is that the history is real and many of the characters did walk the Earth. But that means readers want it to be accurate. They will be quick to pick on poor research and ‘iffy’ twists on reality and time. But you will sometimes get it wrong – or reality just messes your story. Writing tips for any aspiring authors in this genre are:

Never give up on researching

Keep learning and developing

Accept all feedback – even the highly critical is useful

If you need to twist reality – be honest

People who point out your mistakes can seem pernickety, but they are generally of good intention. Even if not – pretend they are and keep a reader

Common Elements of Historical Fiction

Setting: The setting is the most important part of a historical fiction novel. It should take place during an authentic period in history and be set in a real historical place. For example, New York City during the Great Depression or Paris, France during World War II.

Plot: The plot in a historical fiction novel is a combination of real events and fictional events. You can invent characters, cities, and events, but they still must make sense to the time period. For example, a novel set in London, England in 1666 would benefit from incorporating the Great Fire of London, a major turning point in the city’s history.

Characters: The characters can be real, fictional, or both, but they should all look, speak, and act in ways that accurately reflect the era. For example, if you are writing a book about Mary Tudor, it shouldn’t disregard or reinvent her family history as the daughter of Henry VIII and sister to Elizabeth I, who both played an important role in Mary’s reign.

Dialogue: The dialogue must be authentic to the time period and should reflect the status of the characters who are speaking. For example, British soldiers in the Revolutionary War wouldn’t use Western slang of today.

Conflict: The problems the characters encounter should be conflicts people of that era would encounter. For example, your book might describe the hesitation and fear German soldier feels as he is to the Eastern Front, where he knows he is likely to die.

Tips for Writing Historical Fiction

Free write to brainstorm ideas. If you’re interested in writing historical fiction but don’t know where to start, spend 15 minutes writing in your notebook about a period or historical event you’re interested in rendering in fiction. Note any assumptions you have about the period, cultural depictions of it in other books and films, and what specifically interests you about this moment in history.

Find an interesting way into a time period. Consider using a historical time period as a backdrop and placing fictional characters and events within that world. Or, choose a historical event and create fictional characters who experienced it and whose lives were affected by it

Do your research. In addition to getting the historical facts correct, the smaller details are important, too. Write an inventory of the details in your work that you haven’t researched but should check. Likely, these will be small things—for example, the color of refrigerators—whose accuracy will keep a reader interested and make your story more credible.

Build a world. World-building makes a historical fiction books more authentic and gives readers a reason to keep coming back. Include details about the world in which your story takes place to give readers historical context and balance those exotic details with familiar, relatable ones to keep the story grounded. However, don’t add information just to add it; make sure every part of your world-building advances the story.

Don’t get bogged down in dialogue. Different historical eras have different vocabulary and grammatical structures. Include occasional words and phrases to reinforce the historical setting, but don’t include so many that the novel becomes difficult to read and less enjoyable.

Add fictional characters. Even if you’re writing about true events, you can take some creative liberties. Introducing fictional characters to complement those based on actual historical figures can help you move the story along, inject personality, and keep it entertaining.

Choose which of these tips for historical fiction work best for your story and incorporate them with elements of Detective Fiction.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: Notes & References

The elements found in other subgenres overlap with detective historical fiction as well, so here are previous posts that you might find helpful as references:

Clues in Crime Fiction

Basic Narrative Pattern of Crime Fiction

Writing Notes on Pain & Violence

Writing Tips: A "Convincing" Mystery

In creating your fictional world from scratch, here are some worksheets and templates on worldbuilding that may guide you, or more references on worldbuilding.

Hope this helps with your writing!

[pixarchan]

So that’s what the song means, it’s a prayer, a prayer for Moana to get back to Maui one more time and in retrospective it makes a lotta sense.

Just like you said all his life he’s done nothing more than living in a rebellious lifestyle, tricking both gods and humans for out of fun or for something else, and even tho he was raised by the gods they can’t actually be considered as his family ‘cuz somehow he grew up to be self sufficient enough to take care of himself, and out of the love and appreciation he craves for he shows this stoic man who’s is not afraid of anything and anyone, he cups his own feelings up so he doesn’t look weak in the eyes of everyone, like he was trying to prove himself and everyone he’s worthy of their love, a love that was denied by his own parents, this man really needs therapy ASAP.

And for the first time in his 3000 he showed his true colors to a young mortal girl who taught him that sometimes it’s ok not being ok, that if you keep bottling up your emotions you’ll end up hurting yourself, and in that moment Maui let himself be vulnerable, he let all his emotions flow freely and opened up his heart to Moana, even tho he expected her to understand him she actually did, she gave him empathy and didn’t judge him for his actions, she just simply listened and allowed to see a side of his that barely no one knows, she even offered him a shoulder to lean on even if he didn’t ask for it, just like Klaus said “A true act of kindness always leads to another” Moana’s kindness and compassion showed him that being vulnerable doesn’t make you weaker, it makes you even stronger than ever.

Being strong doesn’t mean you are invincible, Maui spent all his life trying get the approval from everyone and he gained a true friend but at the cost of one day he’ll have to see her die, another thing he tried to avoid in his inmortal life the fear to get so attached to her that the mare idea of watching her die would just devastate him so he would rather die than living another 3000 years without her.

And well, the inevitable happened and all his world shattered in pieces while he holds Moana’s lifeless body in his arms, he didn’t care about his hook, his tattoos or whether is a demigod or not the only person he loved and cared about more than his own life was gone and the desperation and grief made him crumble, so he did the last thing he never thought he would, HE PRAYED he prayed for her to save her, he never asked anything from the gods, humans or even the ocean, but he hoped for someone to listen to his prayer, and when Matai Vasa and all his ancestors (including Tala) showed up he and Tala looked through his eyes and I would swear they silently asked Maui what he would be willing to sacrifice for Moana, eyes say more than words and he answered back with tears in his eyes saying “I’ll give you anything you want, my hook, my power, my immortality, I’ll give my own life if it’s necessary but please save her”, said and done they brought Moana back to life and the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was Maui and that fire in his eyes were back one more time now that the woman he loves is alive safe and sound 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹.

You know, it would’ve been amazing if Disney had at least made Maui kiss Moana’s forehead or even her hand during the Mana Vavau, that would’ve made worth our while but I’m pretty sure they know what they’re doing and I hope so, if I didn’t lose my hopes for Moana and Maui in these 8 years since Moana 1 was released, now more than ever I‘ll hold onto that hope until the third one and if I have to wait another 8 years for it, then it’ll worth it 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰.

Big Moana 2 Spoilers ahead. Beyond the cut is the Samoan to english translation of maui's 2nd song for moana. (And the context it appears in)

ladies and gents of the moana fandom, thanks to the effort of samoan speaker @yuki685 on youtube, and my buddy @rykierykerman for hooking me up with the text and screenshots

what i'd like to discuss with yall today is not only sharing the translation for this song, but some of the character implication this has for maui, especially when you look at how his OG legends depict him.

LYRICS:

(Maui singing in Samoan):

Aue, aue, le faigata / Aue, aue, how difficult it is

Ua pa'ū fa'anoanoa / Falling into sadness

Aue, aue, fa'ataga ola / Aue, aue, please allow this life to continue

Lenā La'u talosaga / This is my prayer

---

(E manu malo) / May there be blessings

(Opataia Foa'i and Te Vaka singing in Tokelauan)

Tele tele mana e o te vavau (Vavau) / Great, great power of mana

Tau ke tu ke Manumalo / Fight, stand tall and be victorious

Ke Manumalo / Be victorious

---

(Grandma Tala)

Aue, aue, mana e o te vavau / Aue, aue, the power of mana

Tau ke tu ke Manumalo / Fight, stand tall and be victorious

Ke Manumalo / Be victorious

Ke Manumalo / Be victorious

Ke Manumalo / Be victorious

_____

The piece that made me flip my shit when I read it was the confirmation that this song is a PRAYER

when I first heard this song before the movie I assumed it was a funeral rite. a dirge, followed by a choral revival. during the film, when maui and then the ancestors sang it over moana's lifeless body and I had no subtitles to go on, I thought perhaps it was a spell, or maybe a lullaby from Maui's far distant past, then taken up by the ancestors as a comfort to the grieving Maui- then back to the spell theory as Moana awoke to the powerful music and emotion channeled by tala and her crew.

even my first google translate search of the lyrics missed the word prayer, which goes to show that AI translation is no match for native human insight.

Maui's song being a prayer is a friggin big deal.

Maui's stories span the width & breadth of the pacific islands, and each culture arising from those island tells variations on that legend. some emphasize his rebellious side, others his inventiveness, still others his drive, his humor, his ingenuity, his pride. But a common theme in most is that this man, this demigod- he does NOT get along with the majority of his ancestors or the gods. Even when he's not outright malevolent to them, he's tricking them or undermining their effort. He's usually stubbornly self-sufficient, if he gets help from someone divine, its usually because he tricked them into doing it. Maui does not beg, he does not plead. (at least, not with any lasting sincerity). he's a charmer, a schemer.

But here he is, his tattoos stripped away, his hook gone, his beloved Moana growing colder and colder- he's out of tricks. he's out of time, out of power. he's as helpless as the day he was thrown into the ocean to save her. rock bottom, figuratively and literally.

he does the absolute last thing he can, born of pure desperation. pure grief, pure need. He prays.

he prays not expecting an answer. he prays, knowing that the gods and all his family would relish the chance to tell him to fuck all the way off. he prays, even if to no one but moana's lifeless body.

i often joke that maui is bad at feelings. but really what i mean is that maui is bad at regulating his feelings. he represses them as hard as he can, denies them, wraps them in humor and when that fails he straight up tries to out run them. its a maladaptive coping skill he's had to pick up over his immortal 3000 year lifespan because otherwise, he'd be wallowing in endless grief as friend after friend either dies or lives long enough to become his antagonist. boy has some serious trauma built up and no good examples of how to handle it in a healthy way.

until moana.

moana provided an example of how to be vulnerable without being weak. a safe space where he could share his heart and be met with understanding and validation. we see him mature, even fractionally, and in the sequel he's not nearly so closed off. he worries openly about moana, admits his concerns about the mission, even returns moana's favor from the first film and gives her a sincere, supportive pep talk.

but all his progress in processing his emotions seems to backfire in this moment. the first time he'd opened his heart to a fragile mortal friend and here he is, exactly as he feared, devastated at her passing. He had invested real time and care and attachment into this human and he's utterly shattered that its all coming to an end so fast. that he'll never experience her voice or her smile or her wit ever again.

she's precious to him. he cant bear to lose her. his sadness in more crushing than the ocean he's surrounded by, denser than the rock he kneels upon. even if he got his powers back, even if he pulled up a million islands, if Moana isn't there to land on them...there's no point.

less than 10 minutes ago he was ready to die for her.

3 minutes ago in movie time, maui faced his own mortality. powers stripped bare, down to his last ounce of strength, frying in impossible lightning heat, he kept struggling. the first look he gives moana is fear, raw and unfamiliar on that handsome face. but in this penultimate moment, his eyes meet moana's. his grimace gentles, eyebrows lift, gaze softens into a regretful, heart melting smile. he finds small comfort in seeing moana for one last time, seeing her unhurt, hearing her call his name. the rope slips from his grip, and somewhere in the milliseconds between lightning flashes, he relaxes, relief skitters across his features. perhaps he thinks "ahh, at least she's ok." "at least she'll outlive me". perhaps he has a moment of acceptance for his fate, knowing she's proud of him, knowing he did his very best. maybe he thinks ,"this way ill be sure to meet her again, in the afterlife. its for the best."

or maybe, just maybe, he thinks

"see you out there, moana."

but now, 3 minutes later, its once again the worst case scenario. any relief he had in that last smile at her is obliterated in the wake of his grief. its once again the worst case scenario. he's not thinking now of the curse being broken or his hook or his tattoos. a world that she's not in, whether he be human or demigod, is not a world he can stand to exist in. he cant do this without her. he needs her.

so he digs deep inside himself, through the pain or losing her, through his own family trauma and antagonism towards authority, and pride, to beg, on his knees for help from a higher power. its unclear to us if he's intending to pray to the gods or to his own ancestors or both or neither. to anyone who can help. to anyone who will listen.

and its neither of those sources who answer, at least, not as directly as matai vasa or tala do. its moana's kin, her loved ones, (eventually including the ocean), who answer from the great beyond. he looks them in the eyes and they weep with him. they sing power over moana and the impossible happens.

(salacious handholding occurs)

the stars are put back in maui's eyes, the sun back into his sky.

does this mean...

yes.

his tattoos are still cooler than hers.

even when theyre mad at him. (same, little guy, same.)

bruh.

now kiss

[h3k3t]

Ok it's neither romantic nor spicy, but in my opinion it's worth listening to, okay?

Geta has anger issues, Caracalla also has the disease...they need a support sister and we need an angst scenario. (just to be clear again, it's PLATONIC, okay? Okay)

tw: caracalla and his madness, toxic way of showing affection towards family

Geta:

We all know that even though Geta shows off his coolness and chillness, he has a fragile psyche like Caracalla, you see it when he throws wine in his brother's face, or when he yells at Acacius, or the terror he feels when he sees Rome in revolt.

So I imagine him going to his sister, the only bastion of light in that darkness, in that chaos; You are in your rooms when you hear Geta shouting your name, then suddenly enters in the throes of a nervous breakdown. Dropping whatever you were doing, you advance towards him but not before miraculously dodging the crown that the young emperor threw after putting his hands in his ginger hair.

In the room only his angry voice could be heard, the servants had all disappeared while he was spewing out words about how he could not handle Caracalla, the senate and "And the people...they're ungrateful and demanding. It's like they expect me to fix everything for them without lifting a finger."

Of course it was always the people and not him you thought sarcastically, knowing the story very well by heart, but now it didn't matter, as much as you hated your brother's cruelty, you had always felt pity for him and Caracalla. And you simply sat on the bed, calling him in a calm voice to you, like a mother would do.

In an instant the emperor whom everyone feared was on his knees, clutching the fabric of your stole with possessive force, his face pressed against your thighs; a caress in your hair was enough to feel a shaky sigh and then a sniff, while Geta bit his tongue bloody so as not to cry in front of his dear sister, the only thing he truly cared about...

"Geta..." you tried to say, but he interrupted you. "No, don't talk, stay here, with me..." He didn't want to make a fuss, he needed silence and to feel your warmth, your closeness.

"...if I lost you too, sister..." he said taking your hand and kissing the back of it, hiding it under his face "...I would burn every inch of Rome and myself with it". Atrocious words, enough to make anyone shudder, yet in that sea of putrid hatred, there was something corrupt that in its own way was love... a desperate redemption, too late.

"Never abandon me, never leave my side..." he said after raising his head towards you, black makeup running under his lower eyelids "Swear to me" and with your heart torn between the guilt of a lie and a loving smile you said: "On my life, dear brother".

Caracalla:

It had all happened so quickly, a fight between two brothers and then Geta threw the wine in Caracalla's face, bitterly regretting it soon after. You ran after your brother, before Macrinus could catch up. The man was a complete stranger, an unnecessary addition to your pile of problems, he had no interest in the empire, just stick your three heads on a pike.

"Caracalla..." Your voice echoed through the room that seemed desolate, until you heard the high-pitched verses of the monkey Dondus. You sighed tiredly, mentally exhausted, your mind took a leap back in time, when life was easier and illness had not taken Caracalla away; The nurses had taught you a nursery rhyme, and you two always sang it when one of you lost his way...

"Five little ducks went out one day..." you hummed, but Caracalla didn't answer, however you saw the little monkey scurry away from under the table, you knew he was under there "...Over the hill and far away..."

You slowly approached the table, but still no response, until a shaky voice said, "Mother duck said, 'Quack, quack, quack, quack'..." and a small smile appeared on your face, before you crouched down and found your brother lying on his side under the table.

His blue eyes were filled with tears, his face looked like that of a lost child and not that of a young man in command, your heart tightened, and the anger for a moment was replaced with so much sadness.

"...But only four little ducks came back" you finished the song looking at him with eyes full of compassion, kneeling on the floor. "My sweet brother...come out, do you recognize me, yes?"

There was another moment of silence broken by a sob from Caracalla who crawled towards you, and curling up again towards your lap burst into tears again like a child.

Your heart tightened with anger and sadness, you hated him; you blamed him because he had always been weak, even before his illness, he spent his days with whores and various luxury, while the blood of conquered peoples stained the soldiers' blades, leaving only sand and ashes on barren lands to govern; You hated him because it was his and Geta's job to protect you, and instead it was you who picked up their pieces every time, or you could barely keep them away from vultures like Macrinus. You were tired, it wasn't fair, you hadn't done anything wrong, and yet...and yet, your mother had shaped you between blood and empathy, and even though you hated those two, you couldn't stop loving them.

"I'm gonna kill him" you woke up from your thoughts when you felt Caracalla tightening your clothes and gnashing his teeth "He thinks I'm weak, he wants to take everything away from me...even you, isn't that right?"

"What?" you asked, but before you could react, you found yourself lying on the ground, your brother's hands on your neck, an iron grip. "Caracal--!" you gasped, your nails digging into the pale flesh of his arms.

"I see you, you know? I see you hidden in the shadows, with those ears always ready to eavesdrop... do you think I can't hear you at night, walking aimlessly who knows where" Caracalla continued to accuse you, barking out his repressed anger from his lungs. It was the disease talking, but he still kept his sharp tongue "You went to his chambers, aren't you? To Geta! You're going to be a co-conspirator, you want to kill me, aren't you?! Traitors!"

"Caracalla--!" you shouted, giving him a desperate slap to the arm, which destabilized him for a moment "Break the spell!" that was the phrase that you and Geta used to bring him back to his senses "I'm your sister and I love you.. please, don't go where I can't reach you" you said bursting into tears scared and exhausted...exhausted of all this, exhausted of fighting.

Caracalla seemed to come to his senses and, opening his blue eyes wide, looked at his trembling palms, the same hands that were suffocating his sister... he had hurt his sister. "Sister...?" he fell to his knees in defeat "N-no, no no no! Forgive me...I'm sorry I'm sorry... I'm so sorry" he said before your arms wrapped around him in an almost suffocating embrace.

"I'm here..." you replied in a tired tone "Breathe, follow my heart, everything will be okay, brother..."

There was no lie in the world more cruel than this...

[venusswhite]

A Thousand Years | Arcane Vi x Fem Leitora (Part. 2)

After losing everything, [Name] tries to rebuild her life. But what happens when a ghost with pink hair returns? notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English

Part. 1 Part.3

“Think I’ll miss you forever, like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky.” - Lana Del Rey

They were all dead…

After we robbed a house in Piltover, the enforcers came after us. Vander said he’d handle it, leaving the bar under Vi’s and my care.

“I can’t stay here. I need to help him!” Vi paced back and forth, gripping her hair tightly.

“No, Vi. It’s too dangerous,” I said, stepping closer. “Vander will handle it. He always does.”

“This time it’s different, [Name],” she snapped, anger in her voice. “I feel like something’s wrong.”

“So you’re going after him? You’re just a kid, Vi!” I raised my voice.

“What do you want me to do?” she shouted back. “Without him, we’re nothing! I can’t just sit here doing nothing.”

“We can’t do anything. We shouldn’t have done anything!” I shouted, my frustration boiling over. “I knew that mission was a bad idea.”

“You think I don’t realize that was a mistake?” she yelled, her eyes burning into mine. “Don’t you think I feel guilty for all this mess?”

“Please, stop fighting!” Powder cried, clutching Mylo and Claggor, who were staring at us with worry and fear.

Vi growled, grabbed a bottle, and hurled it to the ground, the sound echoing loudly. Powder flinched and ran into my arms, sobbing.

“It’s okay! Everything will be fine,” I whispered, holding her tightly.

“That’s not what I meant,” I said more calmly, trying to defuse the situation. “This isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault. We need to stick together now… as a family.”

Tears streamed down my face. Vi looked at us, her eyes glistening with tears, and came closer.

“I’m sorry, but I have to do this,” she whispered.

“Vi, please don’t go,” I begged, crying while still holding Powder, who looked at her sister with tears in her eyes. “You don’t have to do this!”

“[Name], I have to help him,” she said, hugging us with tears streaming down her face.

“Then at least let us help.”

“No. You stay here. Please, I can’t lose anyone else,” she said, pulling away and pressing her forehead against mine.

I closed my eyes, feeling her breath against my face.

“Then come back to us, Vi. Promise you’ll come back.”

I opened my eyes, staring into hers.

“I promise,” she replied, and then I felt her lips against mine in a lingering, gentle kiss. It was simple, just two lips touching, but at that moment, I could swear fireworks were exploding inside me. She pulled away, smiling, and kissed Powder’s forehead.

“You four stay together. I’ll bring Vander back home. I swear it,” she promised, leaving, but not before looking back and smiling.

After some time, Mylo and Claggor went after her, insisting that Vander was their father too. I watched them leave, not knowing it would be the last time I’d see them alive.

I was torn, afraid, unsure whether I should go help or stay and care for Powder.

I wasn’t good at fighting and didn’t have any weapons.

So I decided to stay, thinking the three of them would do better on their own.

“[Name], I’m sleepy. Will you wake me up when they come back?” she asked, still in my arms.

“Of course! Don’t worry…”

She pulled away from my arms, walking toward the door at the back of the bar.

“[Name]?”

I turned to see her standing there, holding the door open and looking at me.

“I love you. Thank you for always taking care of me.”

Tears welled up in my eyes at her confession.

“I love you too, Powpow, and I’ll always be here to take care of you,” I said, smiling despite the heaviness in my heart.

“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine!” she said with her childish voice and closed the door.

The bar was empty, but I wouldn’t close it. I wanted to show Vander that I was ready to take care of the bar while he rested.

I cleaned the counter and organized the liquor bottles. Opening the drawer where we kept all the money, I noticed a photo among the bills.

It was the six of us, years ago. It seemed like it was taken shortly after he adopted us.

I smiled, seeing how happy we looked. I hoped with all my heart that this wouldn’t end tonight.

My stomach churned at the thought. I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm for all of them.

After hours, my body seemed to know something had happened. Why were they taking so long to come back? What if the enforcers caught them? Should I go after them? What if something worse had—

“They’re dead,” someone said above me, cutting off my thoughts.

I looked up and saw Sevika.

“What?” A shiver ran down my spine at the possibility of it being true.

“A bomb exploded where they were and killed almost everyone. Except the blue-haired girl.”

“Powder?” I ran through the back door, searching for the girl.

I turned over the blankets, opened the cabinets where she used to hide to play tricks on us. But I couldn’t find her.

“Powder?” I yelled, opening the chest she used as a hiding spot during our games.

I began crying, realizing she wasn’t anywhere. Vi had asked me for one thing, to take care of her sister, and I couldn’t even do that.

“I’m sorry, [Name],” Sevika said behind me.

“Where is Powder?” I asked angrily. I didn’t even know who I was mad at: myself? Powder? No… not Powder. She was just a child. She probably went looking for her sister, worried. I was the irresponsible one. I should have taken care of her, especially during this delicate moment.

I had been so irresponsible.

“Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

I followed Sevika until we reached an old building. We climbed the stairs until we arrived at a room where Powder was sobbing in Silco’s arms.

“Powder…” I whispered, my chest tightening.

“[Name]!” she ran to me, sobbing.

“What happened?” I asked, trying to hold back my own sobs.

“I just wanted to help… I promise! I didn’t know the explosion would hurt them!” Powder cried even harder, and my body froze.

“It’s okay! It’s okay, Powpow! I believe you!” I hugged the girl tightly, trying to stay calm.

After a moment, Silco approached us.

“I have a proposal for you two,” he said.

“We’re not interested,” I cut him off.

“You know you can’t take care of her on your own,” he replied.

The worst part was that he was right. What was I going to do now?

The harsh reality of the situation hit me hard. We had no one else. Everyone was gone. I didn’t know what to do.

Defeated, I asked, “What’s your proposal?”

“I knew you’d make the right choice. Well… my proposal is your loyalty, both of you, and in return, I’ll give you everything you need: food, clothes, protection, a home.”

“Loyalty?” I asked, confused. I didn’t think we’d be useful for anything.

“Yes. Loyalty! You’ll be useful for my business in the future.”

“We won’t be your puppets,” I said, holding Powder tighter.

“Relax, [Name]. You two will be my eyes. You’ll be my representatives. Don’t worry, you won’t do anything you don’t want to…”

I had no choice. Sighing, I replied, “Alright… I accept your proposal.”

“Good. Sevika will show you your room. I want to talk to Powder.”

“What are you going to say to her?” I asked angrily, holding her tighter.

“Nothing bad,” he whispered, approaching us. “She’s traumatized, [Name]. You’re just a child, and now she needs someone to take care of her… to take care of both of you.” When he got closer, his arms surrounded us.

“[Name], it’s okay! I trust him!” Powder looked at me with her red, tear-filled eyes.

“You can talk to her, but I’ll stay outside the room. When you’re done, she’ll go to the room with me.”

“Alright! You take care of yours, [Name]. That’s a good thing!”

I pulled away from the girl, pressing our foreheads together, and whispered:

“If anything happens, call me, alright?”

Sevika led me outside the room, closing the door. I felt tense, wondering what he was saying to Powder.

(POV Silco)

“Come here.” I called her, extending a chair for her to sit on. Slowly, she approached and sat down. “You care about [Name], don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” she replied without hesitation.

“Then I need to ask you something. Something that will protect [Name].”

“What? I’ll do anything,” she said with determination.

“You can’t tell her that your sister is alive.”

“She’s not my sister anymore,” she replied angrily.

“Of course, she isn’t, but you can’t tell her that Violet is alive. Do you know why?”

“Why?” she asked, her eyes welling up with tears while her face remained angry.

“Because Violet abandoned you. And if [Name] finds out, she’ll be very sad, and we don’t want to see [Name] sad, do we?”

“No, of course not! I want to protect [Name]!” she exclaimed.

“I want to protect her too, which is why this will be our secret.”

7 Years Later

(POV [Name])

The last few years have been hard. Losing everyone changed us. Powder no longer existed. She was Jinx now and insisted on being called that.

But it wasn’t all bad. Silco took good care of us; he gave us everything we needed.

I found Ekko after some time, but he refused to join us. Even so, I took care of him however I could.

I found out that Benzo had also died that day, leaving the little guy completely alone.

Since he wouldn’t join us, I arranged a place for him to stay and always brought him what he needed. Years later, he built his own refuge, which I kept hidden from Silco… and Jinx.

He still didn’t accept me being on Silco’s side, even after I explained my reasons. Even so, sometimes we would talk, forgetting for a moment about our differences.

Jinx didn’t want to see him. She hated talking about the past and would have breakdowns if anyone crossed the line. I still wondered if I had done enough to care for her. If Vi would be disappointed in me…

Over the years, Sevika also helped me improve my physical abilities. I hate to admit it, but she became a maternal figure to me—someone to look up to. Someone I aspired to be like.

Walking through Zaun’s streets, I saw the state of the place I grew up in. I didn’t take pride in what Silco had done, but I reminded myself that I stayed by his side for Jinx. No matter how much she had changed, she was still that little girl who cried in Vander’s arms while he helped me during that massacre caused by Piltover. She was still Powder… deep down.

I was heading toward the old Last Drop when I caught sight of pink hair in the crowd. My heart raced, and the feelings from years ago rushed back. My hands started sweating, and my legs trembled.

The crowd blocked my view of the pink-haired figure. I pushed through the people, searching frantically for that familiar color.

I checked every possible entrance and corner, but I couldn’t find her.

I must have been imagining things. Again.

It wouldn’t be the first time my mind tricked me into seeing Vi walking the streets.

Sighing, I returned to the bar’s entrance, walked in, and sat at a stool by the counter. I ordered a drink. After finishing it, I asked for another and another, until the people around me blurred.

“One more,” I slurred.

“No more, [Name],” I heard a voice beside me.

“Leave me alone,” I whispered, resting my head on the counter.

“What happened to make you like this?” the voice spoke again. I looked up, squinting to recognize the person beside me. After a moment, I realized it was Sevika.

“I miss her, Sevika. I miss her so much,” I said, running my finger along the rim of my glass.

“You need to move on, [Name]. It’s been so long,” she said, running her hand through my hair.

“I know, but everything reminds me of her,” I said, feeling something wet on my face. “Today, I saw a girl with pink hair. I was so sure it was her, but of course, it wasn’t,” I said, realizing the wetness came from my tears.

“So that’s why,” she sighed. “Let’s go home.”

“No.”

“I’m not asking.”

She picked me up, slinging me over her shoulder.

[httpiastri]

paul aron x popstar!reader

a/n: told you i'd stay up until i had written something :) not my best work but i hope you enjoy anyway. take care, my loves <3

if someone had told you before this weekend that you were going to watch paul absolutely dominate, you would've felt your heart race at the thought, but never actually believed that it could happen. and yet, here you are.

after a bunch of busy weeks on tour, you finally got a break – just in time for the last two rounds of the formula two championship. this weekend was already, even before paul's pole, bound to be great. with the release of his merchandise on friday and his alpine announcement on saturday, and with you there to cheer him on, he had several things to look forward to. to have qualifying and the feature race turn out so well was just another addition to an already perfect weekend.

the moment his silver car crosses the finish line right behind gabriel bortoleto to claim his first-ever win in the series, the tears are already prickling in the corners of your eyes. the hitech garage erupts in cheers, and you get pulled into a whirlwind of hugs by everyone around – before turning to anna, unable to hold back the tears anymore. in the arms of paul's sister, whom you've come to grow so close to, you feel yourself breaking down, and she does the exact same. when pulling away, she helps wipe away your tears to not ruin your makeup, and you return the favor, both in a giggling haze of happiness and relief and pride. so much pride for the young man currently making his way into parc ferme.

as you all hurry along, she hastily asks you if you're sure you want to come with, knowing you usually want to stay behind in the shadows at these moments, but you just shake your head. "i wouldn't miss it for anything."

paul stands on his car, celebrates with his arm in the air, before jumping down and throwing himself into the arms of his team. he hugs them, shakes hands with zak brown, and embraces his parents, before finally diverting his attention to you.

you blink back your tears as your eyes meet his through the slit in his helmet, and you can practically feel his smile radiating from his body when his arms wrap around you. with your arms draped over his shoulders, you can't help but laugh at the surreality of it; it's just so hard to believe that you've been lucky enough to end up with someone this perfect.

your boyfriend lifts you up in the air, your giggles echoing in his ears and luring out a laugh of his own, and squeezes you tighter than ever before. once he sets you down, he brushes a glove-clad hand down the side of your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb for a moment with a promise to be back in your arms after the podium.

a twinge of disappointment spreads through your stomach, but you understand; he's got a lot of obligations to tend to, and you would never stand in the way of that. you turn around when he pulls off his helmet to pose with the first-place board, facing his family again as they chat off about the plans to celebrate later tonight.

but just as you think it's time to go towards the podium, a hand lands on your shoulder. you spin in surprise, eyebrows already raised when you find paul standing there, rosy cheeks and messy curls on full display. "i forgot something," he mumbles, and his calloused palms cup your face before you can even process his words. and before you can react, he's kissing you.

the shuttering of cameras drowns out all other sounds for a moment – the fans will definitely freak out – but then the whole world fades away. his lips are slightly chapped, though you definitely don't mind, considering how gentle he is with it. your hand instinctively reaches up to rest on his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath his suit. you're not sure who started, but eventually you're both grinning into the kiss, unable to hold back the overwhelming joy of the moment.

"thank you," he whispers as he pulls away, eyes gazing right into yours. "for being here this weekend." he presses another kiss to your lips, letting out a soft sigh. "my lucky charm."

yourusername just posted!

yourusername hard launch: f2 race winner edition. love you tons 💙

paularon_ ❤️

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[locomoqo]

Hello! Can I request an angsty+platonic Eugene fic where the reader is his younger triplet who was recently hospitalised after somewhat contributing to the Hunt For Gun arc with Yuseong anf Mandeok? And Eugene is just regretful and starting to doubt himself? We knew he really cares about Yuseong and Mandeok to the point of crying to say that he can't live in the 'dream world' without them and I need someone to elaborate on that because darn he's so pretty when he cries.

a burning hill

ft. Eugene

details: platonic/familial angst, gn!reader

A/N: anon u r so real he is such a pretty crier

Eugene shuffled through the dimly lit hospital hallway toward your room, the sterile scent thickening around him with each step. The sight of his siblings and Mandeok, lying battered and motionless, echoed in his mind, filling him with a gnawing guilt he couldn't shake.

He had visited Mandeok and Yuseong earlier, his attempts at composure failing in the face of their injuries. Mandeok’s fractured leg and Yuseong’s shattered knee, both injuries rendering them helpless, lingered painfully in his memory. And now, seeing you like this… it was too much.  

The sight of you, his younger triplet, lying unconscious amidst the steady beeping of monitors, broke something inside him. Bruises marked your skin, and bandages covered cuts, each one a testament to the brutal fight you had endured. For a moment, he reached out, brushing a few strands of hair from your face, his fingers trembling. How had he let things spiral so far out of control?

The minutes stretch on, Eugene’s mind spiraling into guilt, his thoughts filled with haunting questions. 

If I can’t protect the people I care about… what am I even doing? 

How can I call myself a friend, a brother, when I can’t shield them from this? 

He had always believed in planning ahead, in staying one step in front of any obstacle. But now, staring at you, broken and still, his plans felt hollow, his ambition a cruel mockery. He clenched his fists, feeling the frustration building, the pain of helplessness seeping through.

“I didn’t want this,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Not for any of you.” He shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “I kept telling you… all of you… to prioritize yourselves over the goal.” His shoulders slumped, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him, his usual confidence dimmed, replaced by a shadow of self-doubt.

The memory hit him suddenly, flashing before his eyes: the locker room, days before the hunt for Gun began. He could still see Mandeok’s grin, the determination in your eyes, and Yuseong’s silent nod of agreement. 

They had all crammed into that narrow space. “I’m sorry, Eugene,” Mandeok had said, “But I won’t be able to do that,” his voice laced with a serious edge. “I want to let you live in the dream.” he said with a wide grin.

You nodded, firm and unwavering. “We’ll do it, Eugene. Whatever it takes.”

Yuseong hadn’t spoken, but his silence held a promise, a quiet strength that reassured them all. He had patted Eugene’s shoulder, a gesture that was simple yet said everything: they would follow him, no matter the cost. Eugene had felt a strange mix of pride and fear at that moment, a heaviness in knowing that you all trusted him so completely.

But now, back in the stark hospital room, that memory felt like a curse. 

How could he have let this happen? 

He gritted his teeth, fighting back tears. “I thought… if I just planned everything right, kept us one step ahead… that it would be enough,” he choked out, voice breaking. 

Eugene leaned forward, his forehead resting against your hand, his composure unraveling as he struggled to steady his breathing. He had always prided himself on staying calm, on being the mastermind who could control any situation. But here, with no one to witness his breakdown, he let the tears fall, each one a mark of the guilt and pain he’d been carrying.

“I… I can’t do this without you,” he admitted, barely audible, as if confessing it would make it any less real. “I can’t live in that ‘dream world’ if you’re not there… none of you.” His grip on your hand tightened, his silent plea echoing through the room: if he could, he would take on all the pain in your place, a thousand times over.

As tears slipped down his cheeks, slow and sorrowful. His vision blurred, and he could barely see through the veil of tears clouding his eyes. But he didn’t care anymore. For once, he allowed himself to put his emotions on full display.

“How am I supposed to call this a victory?” he whispered to the stillness, his voice cracking with each word. The dream he had worked so hard to create, the vision he had poured every ounce of himself into, now felt like a bitter mockery. All the planning, the sacrifices—it had all led here, to this cold, empty moment of regret.

As he sat there, wrestling with himself, Eugene could feel the hands of regret wrapping around his neck so tightly. Every decision he had made, every order he had given, now felt like chains, binding him in guilt.

And the worst part? He couldn’t tell if he’d ever be able to forgive himself for it.

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Cock blocked

Warning ⚠️; Smut, oral sex

Pairing; bottom!Leon/top!Male!Reader

Summary; Hop keeps cock blocking you and Leon until you had enough. This time, you ain't stopping.

~~~~~~~~~

Head in your hands, you groaned while Raihan was laughing so hard holding his ribs. You almost regretted opening up to your friend, but it didn't change the reality.

- “Oh shut up Raihan! The kid is giving me blue balls with how much he is cock blocking us. I swear the brat knows when we are trying to have sex!” you exclaimed, throwing your head back and pinching the bridge of your nose.

- “No but that's hilarious.” Raihan chuckled. “Kid so obsessed with his brother, I wouldn't be surprised if he actually knew you two were getting freaky.”

You rolled your eyes, passing a hand in your hair. You were not just getting blue balls there, or frustrated, but truly pissed off. No matter what you were trying to do with Leon, Hop would find a way to interrupt it. May it be sex or even just a date.

You just wanted to take Leon and run away to get some alone time. You both needed it after everything that had happened. It was still hard to believe it. Leon wasn't the champion anymore and even if he showed no sign of it, you knew he was taking it hard. For ten years he had been the Champion and now what? What was he supposed to do?

You didn't know.

Neither of you did.

But you were still there, always by his side, comforting him when a wave of sadness washed over him. You had been together for almost as long as he had been the Champion and you wondered if it was time to take the next step.

But with Hop always around? You couldn't talk or do anything with Leon.

- “You know, maybe just talk to the kid or get in his face. Like wash the floor with him and he’ll go away for a bit.” Raihan proposed, snapping his fingers as if he had the idea of the century.

- “If I do that, its Leon that going to beat my ass and not in the way I want.” You replied, shaking your head. “But I might snap at him or kidnap Leon.”

Raihan chuckled as your phone buzzed. Looking at it, you saw a message from Leon inviting you to his parents’ place for supper and to pass the night. You couldn't say no and immediately agree to come.

Raihan was still laughing as you left, flipping him off.

When you arrived at Leon’s childhood home, your boyfriend was there to greet you. Sitting on the stone wall, he looked sad until he noticed you. He jumped from the wall and rushed to you, wrapping his arms around you and you did the same.

- “I’m glad you came.” Leon whispered, his hands clenching at your clothes. “I really needed you to be there.”

- “You called, I’ll always come when you call for me Lee.” You said with a smile, kissing Leon on the corner of his lips. “Even if your brother is driving me nuts.”

Leon laughed and nodded, agreeing with you since Hop was also driving him nuts no matter how much he loved his little brother. Taking your hand in his, he led you inside the house and never once let go of you. Not even when it was time to eat and Leon made sure to sit between you and his mother.

As much as it surprised you, you were happy to sit next to your boyfriend. While it didn't stop Hop from talking, you enjoyed the evening more than usual. When Leon scooped his chair closer to yours, touching your knee with his, you began wondering if something was wrong with him. But Leon was good at masking his true emotions and you couldn't tell until you two would be alone.

After supper, you sat in the living room, Leon on your lap, your arms around him. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest as if he was terrified of something, this time truly getting you worried. You passed your hand under his shirt, caressing him with your thumb and drawing circles on his skin. Against you, you felt him relax little by little.

It wasn't long until you both gave your goodnight to his family and went to bed after a quick shower. You enjoyed the silence and intimate moment, taking care of your lover. You washed his back and hair and noticed he had dropped his mask. You could tell he was sad and tired for a reason you didn't know.

Your kisses and caresses weren't enough to bring back a smile on his lips and you knew he was down bad. You wondered if it had to do with him losing his title, but asked nothing. Once you were dried and your teeth brushed, you went to bed. Leon’s bed was made for a single person, yet you found a way to both fit.

Tangled with each other, you kept cuddling Leon without a word, allowing him to make the first step if he wanted to talk. Your fingers were brushing his wet hair when Leon’s voice broke the silence, barely audible.

- “You ain't going to leave me, are you?”

The question took you off guard. In response, you wrapped your arms tightly around Leon and kissed his forehead, closing your eyes.

- “No. I am not nor will I ever leave you, Lee. I don't plan on going anywhere without you.” You told him and you felt Leon relax in your embrace. “Why did you think I was going to leave you?”

- “Hop…” Was all Leon whispered with a sigh. “I know how much he got on your nerves recently and I felt like you've been avoiding me because of him.”

- “Oh Lee… no, I wasn't avoiding you at all.” You said, now feeling bad for being the cause of Leon’s state. “I was trying to find a way to deal with Hop and not get so angry at him for just being a kid…”

Leon said nothing but still found a way to get closer to you. You smiled and kissed his face, hand caressing his side and fingers tracing his fresh scars.

- “Not going anywhere…” he whispered so low you thought you had hallucinated those words.

- “Not without you. Besides, I’ve been thinking about us, you know? We've been together for almost ten years now and… I think it's time to take the next step.”

You felt Leon freeze in your embrace and he looked up at you. Even in the darkness of the room, you could see his eyes and could almost imagine his expression. You smiled and rested your forehead against his.

- “I am serious. I want to take the next step, get married and get a house. Just you and me.” You whispered, your breathe tickling his lips.

Leon said nothing, but you felt him nod and you knew he was overcome with emotion. It was Leon who kissed you first, hungry, and you rested your fingers on his cheek as you kissed him back. Against your lips, you felt Leon smiling and it made you happy. You didn't have any ring yet, but you had been look around, trying to find the perfect one for Leon. Knowing he agreed to take the next step only made you more determined to find it.

That night, you slept peacefully in a cocoon of warmth and love, Leon cuddled against you. The ex-champion never once let go of you, as if you would disappear in an instant if he dared to take his hands off you.

In the morning, those same hands woke you up. You groaned as soft lips brushed against your neck and you smiled, your own hands caressing Leon’s naked back. You heard Leon chuckle before you kissed him.

You sighed and groaned when Hop knocked on the door, calling for Leon.

- “You gotta be fucking kidding me.” You hissed under your breath while Leon hid his face in the crook of your neck. “You know what? Fuck it.”

- “What?” Leon asked before gasping as you flipped him on his back, your lips kissing his neck.

Leon’s arms wrapped almost instinctively around you, nails slightly scratching your back as you left a trail of kisses from his neck down to his hips. Your fingers played with the elastic of his underwear. Leon’s fingers grabbed your hair as you kissed his cock over his underwear.

- “Fuck, you serious right now? My brother is right outside the door.” Leon whispered, face as red as a tomato while his eyes stared at the door.

- “Yeah. I’m tired of being cock blocked, let the brat see. Maybe he’s going to leave us alone now.” You chuckled, slowly taking off Leon’s underwear.

Your lover didn't stop, on the contrary. Maybe Leon was as tired as you from Hop’s antics, maybe he actually wanted to keep going, but he smiled and lifted his hips to give you a hand. You kissed his inner thighs, Leon’s fingers still in your hair and Hop still knocking at the door.

A gasp left Leon’s lips when you took his cock in your mouth. Under your hands, you could feel his body slightly shaking each time you moved your head up and down, taking him deeper into your throat. Leon was half cursing under his breath and half begging for more.

How could you tell him no?

You slid your fingers between his cheeks, caressing his hole. Leon tensed for a second before relaxing and spreading his legs more for you. You slowly pushed a first finger in him, distracting him from the discomfort by giving more attention to his tip.

Leon pulled on your hair with one hand, biting the other to keep quiet. Thankfully by now his little brother had left the door alone and there was nothing left to keep his mind busy. Leon quickly relaxed and got used to your finger, allowing you to add the second. Moving them slowly, you searched for that sweet bundle of nerve that made him see stars.

You found it soon, flexing your fingers and hitting it almost immediately. Leon arched his back, pushing his cock deeper into your throat and taking you by surprise. A litany of “sorry” left his mouth through little whines and whimpers, making it hard for you to be pissed.

You knew he was close when it began hard for him to keep his hips immobile. You turned all your attention on his prostate, massaging and milking it. Without warning, Leon came undone in your mouth, a low moan escaping his lips.

Swallowing everything, you slowly took his cock out of your mouth and pulled your fingers out. You kissed his hips and belly, hands caressing him as Leon panted and tried to calm his breath. He wrapped his arms around you once you began kissing his chest and laughed.

- “Shit, it had been so long…” He whispered, eyes closed and you nodded, resting your chin against his racing heart.

- “Yeah. I missed that and I miss your voice. We really need to get a place just for ourselves so I can make you scream again.”

Leon blushed even more shaking his head in amusement. But you both froze when someone knocker louder on the door.

- “Leon, Y/N, come on now, breakfast is ready and it's getting cold.” Leon’s mother called.

- “Coming ma!” Leon shouted and you chuckled.

- “You already came.” You teased him before Leon smacked you on the head.

- “Shut up before my mother hears you.” He hissed, redder if possible.

You got off him and together dressed up. You stopped by the bathroom to wash your face and teeth before joining the rest of the family. You got a look from his parents as you sat next to a still-blushing Leon, knowing they had an idea of what had been happening that morning.

But you didn't care.

Hop acted as usual, but for once he didn't get on your nerves and Leon seemed happier than yesterday. As you ate, you realized that you were happy, happier too. Everything seemed to fall into place and it hit you that soon you and Leon would take the next step and get your own forever place. You smiled when Leon looked at you, stars in his eyes as he took your hand. Yes. The chaos that the last months had been was over and you entered a new joyful beginning.

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between Us: Chapter 10

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Glen helps ease Gabby’s growing nerves about meeting his family, reassuring her with heartfelt words. As the evening unfolds, their connection deepens during an intimate moment, where sweet, lingering kisses turn into something more, revealing the tenderness and passion they share. Afterward, Glen gently takes care of Gabby, ensuring her comfort before they settle into bed. With Gabby curled up against his chest and Glen holding her close, they drift off to sleep, the warmth of their bond stronger than ever as they prepare to face what tomorrow holds.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Nudity. SMUT (Hair Pulling,.Mentions of Marking. PinV Sex.) I think that's it but may have forgotten or missed something so read at your own risk.

A/N: This will probably be the last update for a few days as I work the next four days and don't know how much time I'll have to write, but I will get the next chapter up as soon as I can!

Please continue to let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs! Also if you'd like to be tagged please let me know, and I will get you added to the tag list!

Tag List: @djs8891 @queenslandlover-93 @teacupsandtopgun @loveatfirsttornado @khouse712 @squirrelducks

Gabby stood in front of the mirror, her fingers smoothing over the soft fabric of her sleep shorts as she took a deep breath. The reality of where she was—and who she was with—hit her like a wave. She was in Glen's house in Austin, Texas. Tomorrow, she would meet his family, the people he’d grown up with, the people who mattered most to him. She had only known him for a month, but in that short time, he had become someone she couldn’t imagine her life without.

Her chest tightened at the thought. Love. The word had been lingering in her mind, unspoken but persistent, for days now. Could it really be that? It seemed impossible to feel something so big, so soon. But with Glen, it was different. Everything was easy with him—natural. He made her laugh, he made her feel safe, and somehow, he’d managed to slip past every wall she’d built to protect herself.

Gabby let out a shaky breath, her gaze dropping to the floor. Was she crazy to feel this way? To be here, in his home, imagining what it would be like to be a real part of his life? She bit her lip, the uncertainty gnawing at her. She wanted to trust what she felt, but it all seemed too good to be true.

Her thoughts spiraled, and she lost track of how long she stood there, unmoving, staring blankly at her reflection. She didn’t even hear the soft knock on the door until it came a second time, followed by Glen’s concerned voice.

“Gabby? You okay in there?”

Her head snapped up, and she blinked, realizing how long she must’ve been. “Yeah,” she called out, her voice higher than she intended. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Yeah, I’m fine!”

The door opened just a crack, enough for Glen to peek his head in. His brow furrowed slightly as his eyes met hers. “You sure? You’ve been in here a while. I started to worry.”

Gabby forced a small smile, turning toward him. “I guess I just… zoned out for a minute.”

Glen stepped into the room, his concern evident as he leaned against the doorframe. “You seemed fine earlier. Did something happen?”

Her first instinct was to brush it off, but the earnest look in his eyes made her pause. She hesitated, then shook her head. “No, nothing happened. I think it just… hit me all at once, you know? Being here. Meeting your family tomorrow. All of it.”

Glen’s expression softened as he stepped closer, reaching for her hand. His thumb traced slow, soothing circles over her knuckles, and he gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s a lot, I get that. But, Gabby… you don’t have to overthink it. You’re here because I want you here, and I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t sure about you.”

His words, steady and confident, made her chest tighten for a different reason. She nodded, the edges of her anxiety dulling under the weight of his steady gaze. “Thanks,” she said softly.

Glen tilted his head, studying her for a moment. “Is there anything I can do? To make this easier for you?” he asked, his voice quiet but sincere.

Gabby blinked, caught off guard by the question. He wasn’t just brushing off her feelings or trying to fix them—he wanted to help. The thought sent a warm ache through her chest. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I think I just… needed a second to get out of my own head.”

Glen nodded, his free hand lifting to cup her cheek. His palm was warm, grounding her as his thumb brushed over her skin. 

“Okay,” he said simply. “But if you think of anything, let me know. I don’t want you to feel like you’re in this alone.”

Her breath hitched at the sincerity in his voice, and she couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at her lips. “You’re kind of good at this whole comforting thing, you know that?”

He grinned, the playful warmth she’d come to adore returning to his face. “It’s easy when it’s you,” he said, his tone teasing but honest.

Gabby rolled her eyes but leaned into his touch, letting him pull her into a light hug. The weight of his arms around her and the steady rhythm of his breathing helped ease the tension in her chest. For now, that was enough to quiet her doubts.

Glen stepped back slightly, his hands lingering at her waist as he looked her over. He could see the tension had eased a little from her shoulders, but the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes told him she was still wrestling with her thoughts.

“Come on,” he said softly, lacing his fingers with hers. “Let’s get comfortable.”

Gabby let him guide her out of the bathroom, their steps quiet as they moved down the hallway toward his bedroom. The warm glow of the pendant lights on either side of the bed created a cozy ambiance, their golden hues casting soft shadows across the room. The overhead lights were off, leaving the space intentionally intimate, while a few candles flickered on the dresser and windowsill, their delicate flames swaying lazily. The faint scent of vanilla and amber hung in the air, wrapping Gabby in a comforting warmth.

She stopped just inside the door, her gaze catching on the candles. A teasing smile tugged at her lips. 

“Candles?” she asked, her tone light. “Is this your secret weapon when you bring women back to your room?”

Glen’s expression shifted at her words. For a moment, his confident demeanor faltered, replaced by something quieter, almost vulnerable. He ran a hand over the back of his neck, glancing briefly at the candles before meeting her gaze. 

“I, uh…” He hesitated, then let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

Gabby’s smile faded as her brows knitted together in confusion. “Never?”

He shrugged, stepping farther into the room. “I hadn’t bought this place yet when my last serious relationship ended. And since then… I haven’t really dated. Not like that, anyway.”

Her lips parted slightly in surprise. Of course, she’d known Glen wasn’t like the typical Hollywood actors who seemed to revel in their reputations for being serial flirts or playboys. She’d seen enough of him over the past month to know he wasn’t the type to bring a different woman home every night. There was a grounded, thoughtful side to him that set him apart from most of the industry.

But hearing this? That she was the first woman he’d brought to his home since buying it over a year ago? It hit her differently.

Her chest tightened at the realization, her gaze softening as she studied him. Glen rubbed the back of his neck again, clearly feeling a little exposed after his confession.

“Glen,” she started, her voice quieter now, but he interrupted her with a small, crooked smile.

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he said, his tone easy, though his eyes betrayed something deeper. “Just thought you should know.”

Gabby felt the teasing remark she’d been about to make slip away, replaced by a warmth in her chest that was equal parts flattery and nerves.

“It’s not a big deal,” she said softly, though deep down, she knew it was.

Glen stepped closer and took her hand again, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Come on,” he said gently, guiding her farther into the room.

The warmth of the space and the intimacy of his presence were almost overwhelming as he led her toward the bed. Gabby followed, but her thoughts were racing. The candles, the soft lighting, his confession—it all added to the weight of this moment. This wasn’t just a fling. This wasn’t just anything.

When they stopped near the bed, Glen turned to face her, his hands settling on her shoulders as he met her gaze. “You don’t have to worry about tomorrow, you know?” he said, his voice quiet but steady. Glen’s thumbs brushed small circles over her shoulders as he continued, “You’ve been so in your head about tomorrow, but my family? They’re just… people. Messy, loud, ridiculous people. You don’t have to impress anyone, Gabby. Just be yourself.”

Her chest tightened at his words, but she let out a small, shaky breath. “It’s not that easy,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “I didn’t grow up with a big family. It was just me and my parents—no aunts, uncles, cousins, or anything like that. No big Thanksgivings or chaotic Christmases. Just the three of us.”

Her gaze fell to the floor for a moment, her voice softening further. “And now… it’s just me and my dad. After my mom passed…” She trailed off, shrugging slightly, as though trying to brush the weight of her words aside.

Glen’s heart ached at her admission. He reached up, his hand cupping her cheek as he tilted her head gently back to meet his eyes.

“Hey,” he said softly, his tone laced with quiet reassurance. “I’ll be right there with you. Every step of the way. If it gets too overwhelming, you just give me a look or squeeze my hand, and I’ll get you out of there. Okay?”

Gabby nodded, her throat tightening as she fought to hold back the rush of emotions building in her chest. “Okay,” she whispered.

Glen smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You’ve got this,” he murmured against her skin. “And you’ve got me. You’re not doing this alone.”

Gabby closed her eyes, letting his words sink in, the weight of her worries easing just a little. She exhaled a soft, shaky breath and rested her forehead against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close, and for a moment, the world felt far away—just the two of them, cocooned in the quiet warmth of the room.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Glen’s hand stilled on her back for a moment before resuming its soothing rhythm. “For what?”

“For being…you.” She pulled back slightly, tilting her head to look up at him. “For knowing exactly what to say, for somehow always making me feel safe.” A faint smile tugged at her lips, soft but genuine. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Glen’s brows lifted slightly, his mouth curving into a small, amused smile. “You know, that’s the second time you’ve thanked me for that tonight.”

Her cheeks flushed as she let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “Okay, well, maybe you deserve it twice,” she said lightly, her tone growing playful.

“Maybe,” he teased, his laugh lines making a brief appearance as his grin widened. Then, with a more serious tone, he added, “I’m just doing what any good boyfriend would do.”

She blinked at his words, her smile faltering for just a moment before it returned, softer and more contemplative. “Yeah, well,” she started, her voice quieter, “I haven’t had very many of those.”

His smile faded, replaced by a look of quiet understanding. “Then I guess I’ll just have to make up for the ones who didn’t know how to treat you right.”

Gabby stared at him for a long moment, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around her heart like a protective shield. She could feel her throat tighten, but instead of giving in to the emotions threatening to overwhelm her, she managed a small, wry smile. “You know, you’re dangerously close to making me cry.”

Glen chuckled, his hand moving up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing across her skin. “Not my intention,” he said softly. “But if you do cry, I’ll be right here.”

Her heart swelled, a mix of gratitude and something much deeper—a feeling she wasn’t quite ready to name yet. She let out a quiet laugh, the tension in her chest easing slightly. “You’re too good at this,” she said, her voice filled with a teasing warmth. “I’m starting to think you’ve been practicing.”

He smirked, his hand still resting against her cheek. “Nah. You just bring it out of me.” His tone was light, but there was a glint of seriousness in his eyes that made her breath catch.

The weight of the moment settled between them, not heavy but meaningful, as if the room had quieted to give space for this connection to grow. Gabby opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Glen leaned down, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss so soft it felt like a whisper.

Gabby’s heart fluttered at the sweetness of it, her body instinctively leaning into him, craving more. The kiss deepened as Glen’s hands slid up to cup her face, his fingers gently holding her as his lips parted, coaxing her mouth open with his. Her breath hitched in surprise, but there was no hesitation in her response. She met him with the same intensity, her hands threading through his hair as she pressed herself against him.

The heat between them surged as his tongue slid into her mouth, exploring with a slow, deliberate movement. She let out a soft sound, her body naturally drawing closer to him as she felt the warmth of his chest against hers. Every inch of her seemed to respond, every nerve firing with the intensity of his touch.

Glen’s hands shifted, moving from her face to the back of her neck, his grip tightening as he deepened the kiss. He pulled her flush against him, their bodies aligning perfectly as the kiss turned hungrier, more urgent. 

Glen’s hands shifted, sliding down to her waist. With a gentle but firm motion, he guided her backward until her legs met the edge of the bed. Gabby gasped softly, her balance faltering as she fell back onto the mattress. Glen followed, his lips never leaving hers, his body lowering over her with deliberate control.

His hands skimmed along her sides, the warmth of his palms igniting sparks across her skin as they reached the hem of her cami tank top. He slid the fabric up, exposing her stomach and the soft curve of her waist. The cool air kissed her skin as the top was pulled over her head, leaving her bare from the waist up.

His eyes roamed her body with an intensity that made her shiver, but the admiration in his gaze kept her from feeling self-conscious. Slowly, his hands moved lower, finding the waistband of her sleep shorts. With the same measured care, he hooked his thumbs under the fabric, sliding both the shorts and her underwear down in one smooth motion. Gabby felt her heart pound, the vulnerability of the moment mingling with the heat between them as she lay completely bare beneath him.

Glen hovered above her for a moment, his gaze roaming over her with an intensity that made her stomach flip. He kissed her again, slower this time, as though savoring every second. But as his hands moved to explore her body, Gabby felt a spark of confidence flare within her.

She reached up, her fingers curling around the hem of his shirt. He paused, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze, his brow arching in question. Gabby swallowed, the hesitation in her chest giving way to a determined flutter as she tugged gently at the fabric.

“Off,” she whispered, her voice trembling just slightly but laced with resolve.

The corner of Glen’s mouth quirked up in a small, approving smile. He leaned back, letting her pull his shirt over his head. The soft glow of the pendant lights caught on the defined lines of his chest and shoulders, and Gabby couldn’t help the way her fingers reached out, trailing across his skin.

Her touch was tentative at first, her fingertips grazing the hard planes of his chest, the dip between his ribs, and the warmth of his skin beneath her palms. Glen watched her, his expression softening, though his breathing deepened with every pass of her hands.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

His smile widened as he leaned down, brushing a kiss against her temple. “Not half as beautiful as you,” he murmured back, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down her spine.

Encouraged by his response, Gabby let her hands roam further, exploring the strength in his arms and shoulders, her confidence growing with every touch. When her hands returned to his chest, Glen caught one of them, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to her palm.

The gesture sent a warm flush spreading through her, and her heart thudded in her chest as he gently pinned her hand to the mattress, his lips trailing back to hers. The kiss deepened, his other hand threading into her hair, his fingertips grazing her scalp in a way that made her shiver.

Then, just as her body arched toward him, he gave her hair a gentle, deliberate tug.

Gabby gasped, her eyes fluttering open in surprise, her lips parting as a wave of sensation shot through her. It wasn’t painful—far from it. It was sharp, startling, and achingly deliberate.

Glen paused, his thumb brushing along her cheek as he studied her reaction. “Too much?” he asked softly, his voice steady but tinged with curiosity.

She shook her head quickly, her breath uneven as she tried to find the words. “No,” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not too much.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face, and his hand in her hair tightened just slightly, enough to elicit another gasp from her. The sound seemed to spur him on, his lips finding the sensitive spot just beneath her ear as his hand anchored her, holding her firmly in place.

Gabby’s pulse quickened, her body reacting instinctively to the mix of tenderness and control in his touch. Her hands gripped his shoulders, grounding herself as his kisses trailed down her neck, each one leaving her more breathless than the last.

“You like that?” he murmured against her skin, his voice low and rough.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling with honesty.

“Good,” he replied, his lips curving into a smile against her collarbone. “Because I like it too.”

Gabby’s breath hitched as Glen’s lips traveled lower, his kisses alternating between soft brushes and more deliberate, heated presses. When his mouth found the sensitive spot at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, she couldn’t stop the quiet moan that escaped her lips. His teeth grazed her skin, just enough to send a shiver coursing through her, followed by the soothing warmth of his tongue as he kissed the spot he’d marked.

“Glen…” she murmured, her voice low and tinged with both pleasure and a hint of warning.

He hummed against her skin, his mouth hovering just above her pulse. “Hmm?”

“Don’t you dare leave a mark,” she said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as her voice trembled slightly. “Not when I have to meet your mom tomorrow.”

Glen paused, his lips still pressed against her neck as a deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his expression caught somewhere between amused and undeniably heated.

“Noted,” he said, smirking. “I’ll try to behave.”

Gabby arched a brow, her lips twitching into a teasing smile. “Try?”

He laughed again, shaking his head as his hand came up to cradle her jaw, his thumb brushing softly against her cheek. “You’re making it really hard, you know that?”

Her smile widened, a spark of confidence blooming in her chest. “Good,” she replied, her tone light but daring.

Glen leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that started slow but quickly deepened, his control threatening to slip as she pressed herself closer.

“Give me a second.” His voice is soft, almost reverent, as if he’s savoring every moment. He brushes his fingers gently down her side, lingering briefly at her waist before slipping away. She watches as he reaches over to his nightstand, pulling open the drawer with a quiet clink.

Gabby’s heart races in anticipation, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. Glen pulls out a condom, tearing the foil with practiced ease. His eyes meet hers, and he holds her gaze for a moment as if making absolutely sure she wants this, wants him. Then he shifts his attention back to himself, rolling the condom on with deft fingers. 

Gabby bites her lip, her face heating as her gaze momentarily drifts lower, catching glimpses of him before quickly averting her eyes. Glen notices and chuckles, the sound warm and teasing.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he murmurs, leaning over her once more and capturing her lips in another kiss. His body presses gently against hers, his warmth grounding her as he settles between her legs.

He adjusts his hips, one hand braced against the mattress beside her while the other rests on her thigh, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against her skin. His movements are slow, deliberate, as if giving her time to prepare.

Glen positions himself, the head of him pressing gently against her entrance. The sensation sends a ripple of anticipation through Gabby, and she instinctively grips his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. His gaze locks on hers, unwavering.

Slowly, carefully, Glen begins to press into her, his movements unhurried and measured. A gasp escapes Gabby’s lips as she adjusts to him, the initial stretch making her tense for just a moment. 

Sensing her reaction, Glen stills, leaning down to press a tender kiss to her temple. “Relax,” he whispers, his tone soothing. “I’ve got you.”

She takes a deep breath, willing her body to ease, and after a moment, she nods again. Glen continues, moving inch by inch until he’s fully seated within her. The fullness makes Gabby’s head spin, but the way Glen pauses, his forehead pressed to hers and his breath warm against her skin, makes her feel safe, grounded.

“You okay?” he asks again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” she breathes, her hands sliding down his back as her body adjusts. “I’m okay.”

Glen grins softly, his lips brushing against hers in a featherlight kiss. “Good,” he murmurs before beginning to move, each thrust slow and measured, as if savoring every second of this moment between them.

Glen moves with a steady rhythm, his hips rolling against hers in a way that feels both deliberate and instinctive, as though he’s attuned to every little reaction she gives. His hand cradles her face, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone, while his other arm wraps securely around her waist, holding her close. Gabby’s fingers curl against the muscles of his back, her soft gasps and whispered breaths filling the space between them.

“Gabby,” he murmurs, her name falling from his lips like a prayer. His forehead rests against hers, their breaths mingling as their bodies move together. “I don’t—” He hesitates, his words catching for a moment as though they’re too vulnerable to say. But then he looks into her eyes, the tenderness in her expression breaking down whatever walls he had left. “I don’t think it’s ever felt like this before. With anyone.”

Gabby blinks up at him, her heart pounding at his confession. Her lips part to respond, but all that comes out is a soft moan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot that makes her toes curl. Glen chuckles lightly at her reaction, the sound warm and filled with affection. 

“You feel so good,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, and the way he says it sends a shiver through her.

 “It’s… it’s different with you for me too, Glen,” she whispers, her voice breathy but filled with honesty. Her arms tighten around him, pulling him impossibly closer.

The connection between them grows deeper with every passing second, the air around them thick with both passion and an overwhelming sense of closeness. Glen’s hand slides down her body, gripping her thigh and encouraging her to wrap her leg around his waist. The change in position lets him press even further into her, drawing a sharp gasp from Gabby as pleasure courses through her.

His name tumbles from her lips, unrestrained and desperate, and it’s enough to make his control falter. 

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against hers before he captures her mouth in a searing kiss.

The pace between them picks up, both of them moving together in perfect sync as their breathing grows more ragged. Gabby feels the tension building, her body tightening with every movement, and the way Glen looks at her—as though she’s the only thing that matters in the world—pushes her even closer to the edge.

“Glen,” she breathes, her voice trembling as her nails dig lightly into his shoulders. “I’m—”

“I know,” he whispers, his hand tangling in her hair as he presses his forehead to hers. His own movements grow less controlled, his breathing uneven as he nears his own release. “Me too.”

With a final roll of his hips, Gabby’s body gives way, waves of pleasure crashing over her as she calls out his name. Glen follows a moment later, his own release leaving him breathless and shaking as he collapses against her, his weight grounding but never overwhelming.

They stay like that for a while, their bodies still intertwined as they catch their breath. Glen brushes a strand of hair from Gabby’s face, his lips curving into a soft smile as he looks down at her.

“You’re amazing,” he says simply, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity.

Gabby smiles back, her hand reaching up to brush along his jawline. “So are you,” she whispers, her words laced with affection.

Glen presses a lingering kiss to her forehead before shifting to lay beside her, pulling her into his arms. They settle into the quiet comfort of each other, their hearts still racing but their connection stronger than ever.

Glen holds Gabby close, their bodies still tangled beneath the sheets as they both catch their breath. His arms wrap protectively around her, his fingers drawing lazy patterns along her back. The room is quiet except for the soft rhythm of their breathing, and he feels the tension slowly leave her body as she relaxes in his embrace.

For a few moments, neither of them speaks. Gabby rests her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, her eyes growing heavier with each passing second. Glen glances down at her and chuckles softly when he notices her breathing start to slow.

“You falling asleep on me already?” he teases, his voice warm and gentle.

“Mmm, maybe,” she murmurs, snuggling closer to him.

He laughs quietly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “As much as I’d love to just stay like this, you should probably go clean up. Use the bathroom, drink some water. You know, all the responsible post-sexy-time things.”

Gabby groans softly, burying her face in his chest. “Don’t wanna move,” she mumbles, her words muffled against his skin.

Glen shakes his head with a smile, his hand brushing lightly over her hair. “Go on, do what you need to do, and I promise you can come back and have all the snuggles you want after.”

At that, Gabby lifts her head to look up at him, a playful glint in her eyes despite her sleepiness. “All the snuggles I want? Like… all night?”

“All night,” he confirms with a soft smile, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “No time limit, no snuggle cap. I’m all yours.”

Her lips curve into a small smile, and she lifts her hand to brush a few strands of hair away from his face. “You’re really good at this whole boyfriend thing, you know that?”

“Yeah, well,” he replies with a grin, his fingers tracing along her shoulder, “you make it pretty easy.”

Gabby’s cheeks flush, and she leans up to kiss him softly before finally sighing and shifting to sit up. “Fine,” she says with mock reluctance, throwing him a teasing glance over her shoulder as she grabs the oversized t-shirt he’d given her earlier and pulls it on. “But I’m holding you to that unlimited snuggle promise.”

Glen props himself up on one elbow, watching her with an affectionate smile as she heads toward the bathroom. “I’ll be right here waiting,” he calls after her.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Glen leaned back against the pillows, the faint sound of running water drifting from the bathroom. A contented sigh escaped him, his body sinking deeper into the mattress as a small smile tugged at his lips. The room was quiet now, save for the occasional creak of the bed as he shifted slightly, and the warmth of their shared intimacy lingered in the air like a comforting embrace.

His gaze drifted to the closed door, replaying the sight of Gabby’s bare back and the gentle sway of her hips as she walked away. He hadn’t meant to stare, but he couldn’t help himself; there was something about her—every little detail of her—that captivated him. It wasn’t just her body, though that certainly left him breathless. It was the way she carried herself, the vulnerability and quiet confidence wrapped up in one. The way she let herself relax with him, piece by piece, like she was slowly learning to trust him with all of her.

That thought made his smile widen, his chest swelling with something that felt deeper than mere satisfaction. She was here, in his bed, in his home, in his life, and it wasn’t lost on him how rare this was. He didn’t bring people into his world lightly, and yet with Gabby, it felt...effortless. Natural.

As the water shut off and he heard the soft patter of her footsteps returning, Glen couldn’t help but sit up slightly, propping himself on one elbow. His smile remained, soft and genuine, as he watched the door, waiting for her to reappear.

As the bathroom door opened, Glen’s gaze lifted from where he’d been absently tracing the stitching on the pillowcase. Gabby stepped out, her hair slightly damp from splashing her face, and her movements unhurried, as if she were savoring the quiet moment. The oversized shirt she’d thrown on after their earlier intimacy hung loosely on her frame, the hem brushing just above her knees, and Glen couldn’t help the smile that softened his features. She looked relaxed, comfortable—at home, even—and the thought filled him with a quiet kind of pride.

Without a word, he shifted, pulling back the covers on her side of the bed in invitation. Gabby paused, her lips curving into a small, grateful smile before she climbed in beside him. The mattress dipped under her weight, and the familiar warmth of her body pressing against his side was enough to make him feel whole in a way he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

She curled up against him, tucking her head into the curve of his shoulder and letting her hand rest lightly on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm was soothing, a quiet reassurance of the safety she felt in his arms. Glen wrapped one arm securely around her, his other hand instinctively brushing a strand of hair away from her face before pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

“See?” he murmured, his voice low and laced with affection. “All the snuggles you want, just like I promised.”

Gabby let out a soft laugh, muffled against his chest, but it was warm, genuine. “Perfect,” she whispered, her voice carrying a note of contentment that made his heart tighten.

The room soon settled into a quiet stillness, save for the sound of their steady breathing. Glen’s hand rested lightly on her hip, his thumb making slow, absentminded circles as he stared at the ceiling. There was a contentment in his expression, but also a quiet intensity, like he was lost in thought.

Gabby shifted slightly, propping her chin on his chest. “Penny for your thoughts?” she asked softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He glanced down at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Just thinking about how I got so damn lucky,” he replied, his fingers brushing through her hair.

Gabby let out a quiet laugh, her cheeks flushing. “You really don’t have to keep saying stuff like that, you know.”

“Why not? It’s the truth.” Glen’s tone was teasing, but there was an earnestness in his eyes that made her heart flutter. “I mean, come on. I’ve got a gorgeous woman in my bed, curled up on me like she belongs here. What’s not to feel lucky about?”

Gabby rolled her eyes, her smile widening as she swatted lightly at his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he shot back, his grin widening.

She shook her head, unable to fight the grin tugging at her own lips. “You really know how to ruin a moment, don’t you?”

“Ruin it? I’m improving it,” Glen said, his hand slipping from her hip to brush a strand of hair away from her face. His expression softened, his teasing tone giving way to something more sincere. “But seriously, Gabby… I mean it. Tonight, being with you—it just felt… right. You feel right.”

Her smile faltered slightly, the weight of his words settling over her. She looked down, her fingers stilling against his chest. “It scares me a little,” she admitted quietly. “How easy this feels. Like… maybe it’s too good to be true.”

Glen’s brows furrowed slightly, and he tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer. “Why does it have to be too good to be true?” he asked, his voice gentle. “Can’t it just be good? Can’t we just… be good?”

Gabby sighed, her head resting against his chest again. “I want to believe that. I really do.”

“Then believe it,” Glen said, his tone firm but kind. “You don’t have to question this, Gabby. I’m not going anywhere.”

She closed her eyes, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear soothing her. “You say that now…”

“And I’ll say it tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that.” His fingers stroked her back, his touch grounding.

Gabby swallowed hard, her throat tightening at the sincerity in his voice. She lifted her head again, her eyes searching his. “You’re really all in, aren’t you?”

“Completely,” Glen said without hesitation. “And when you’re ready, I hope you’ll be all in too.”

She stared at him for a long moment, her chest aching with emotions she wasn’t sure how to name. Then, instead of answering, she leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It wasn’t urgent or heated like before—just a quiet acknowledgment of everything he’d said, everything he meant to her.

When she pulled back, Glen smiled at her, his eyes warm. “I’ll take that as a good sign.”

Gabby laughed softly, settling back against his chest. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet, here you are,” he teased, his hand returning to her back. “Curled up on me like a damn kitten.”

She smirked, her eyes drifting closed as his warmth and steady heartbeat lulled her into a state of calm. “You should be flattered.”

“Oh, I am,” Glen said with a chuckle. “Believe me, I am.”

As the quiet settled over them again, Gabby felt a peace she hadn’t felt in a long time—a sense of safety and belonging that surprised her. And as Glen’s fingers continued their slow, soothing movements, she let herself believe, just for tonight, that this could be her new normal.

Glen glanced down, catching the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek as her breathing slowed, each exhale a little deeper, a little softer. He let his hand drift to her back, tracing slow, lazy circles over the fabric of her shirt, grounding himself in the moment.

“Goodnight, Gabby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her hair as his own eyes began to grow heavy.

“Night, Glen,” she murmured, her voice barely audible as she drifted closer to sleep, her body melting into his.

Glen felt her body grow heavier against his as her breathing started to even out. The corners of his mouth tugged into a soft smile as he looked down at her. She was so peaceful like this, her face relaxed and framed by her loose hair, her fingers still faintly curled against his chest.

It struck him, how different this felt. Normally, after moments like the one they’d just shared, he’d find himself retreating, giving the other person space—or taking it for himself. He wasn’t the kind of guy who got overly clingy. Cuddling? Not usually his thing. It always felt a little suffocating, like it was something he did out of obligation instead of genuine desire.

But with Gabby? He didn’t want to let go. Didn’t want to stop holding her, feeling her warmth pressed against him, or watching her lips curve slightly in a dreamy half-smile as she drifted off. The thought made him swallow hard, his chest tightening with something unfamiliar but not unwelcome. She was different, in every way that mattered.

His hand moved instinctively, brushing lightly through her hair, savoring the silky texture. She stirred slightly at the touch, her brow furrowing for a brief moment before she settled again, nuzzling closer into him. Glen couldn’t stop the quiet laugh that escaped him. She was so damn cute without even trying.

He let his head fall back against the pillow, his eyes drifting up toward the ceiling as his thoughts wandered. How had he gotten here? He wasn’t used to this kind of closeness, this kind of… contentment. And the crazy part was, he didn’t even question it. It felt natural, like they fit together in a way he’d never experienced before.

He then thought back to how he’d blurted out I love you yesterday back in Los Angeles, shocking even himself. It hadn’t been planned, just something that slipped out because it was true. She hadn’t said it back right away. Instead, she’d told him she “thought” she loved him, clearly unsure if she was ready to give all of herself to those words just yet. He hadn’t pushed her. He knew what those words meant for her, what she’d been through. But hearing her say them at all had meant the world to him.

Glen was lost in the thought when he felt Gabby shift against him again, mumbling something so faint he almost missed it. His brows furrowed as he glanced down, her voice barely audible in the quiet of the room.

“I love you,” she murmured, her words soft and slurred, caught somewhere between consciousness and sleep.

Glen’s chest tightened, his heart skipping a beat as her words settled over him. She hadn’t hesitated this time, hadn’t qualified or questioned it. It was simple, unguarded, and real. Something stirred deep inside of him, a warmth that spread through his entire body as he looked down at her.

“Gabby,” he whispered softly, his voice full of affection. She didn’t respond, her breathing slowing as she drifted further into sleep.

Glen’s lips brushed against the top of her head, and he closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the weight of her words. “I love you too, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and tender.

She didn’t stir, lost in sleep, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t saying it to hear it back—he just wanted her to know, to feel it in every moment they shared.

His thoughts began to drift further, imagining what it would be like to introduce Gabby to his family. His mom would love her, he was certain of that. She’d take one look at Gabby’s bright smile and start calling her “sweetheart” before the introductions were even over. His dad would be quieter about it, but Glen knew he’d approve. His dad didn’t say much, but when he did, his words carried weight. Glen could already imagine him pulling Gabby aside after dinner one night to tell her she was good for Glen—and that Glen was damn lucky to have her.

His sisters, though? That’d be another story. Gabby was sharp enough to hold her own, but his sisters were nosy as hell. They  would pepper her with questions, teasing Glen mercilessly in the process. He could already hear his older sister’s sarcastic drawl: “So this is the girl who’s got our brother all googly-eyed? About time we met you.” His younger sister would be subtler, offering sly smiles and warm hugs, but she’d be just as curious.

The thought of Gabby laughing with his sisters, sharing stories with his mom, and sitting at the big dining table in his parents’ house filled him with a sense of anticipation he hadn’t felt in years. He’d never brought anyone home before—not really. He’d introduced past girlfriends to his family, and some had gone to events with him and his family, but it was different this time.

Holding her a little tighter, he rested his chin on her head and let himself soak in the quiet. For the first time in his life, loving someone didn’t feel scary or complicated—it just felt right.

[ray935sworld]

Hello, hope you are doing well

I just read your child of divorce fic for the 100th time (i love it so so much) and i had a funny idea for the future, when the marc-cheating-allegations aren't new anymore and i'd love to hear your thoughts on this

So picture this: there is an interview or a podcast or whatever and some messy rider or journalist/interviewer/whatever is like "yeah maybe who knows, maybe rossi is self projecting with all the accusations of infidelity because HE is the one that cheated and tries to cover it up by throwing mud at his ex bc he can't handle the fact that the he ruined such a beautiful thing and that it is his fault alone, just like he can't handel the fact that 2015 was all his fault and needs a scapegoat that isn't him and Marc is too nice to ruin his reputation bc he still loves him?

Oh anon, my love! That was wonderful. I laughed so hard when I read this.

You definitely nailed it! (pls if you ever have another idea feel free to sent it!) That so happened!

I will definitely write a snippet about that (I'm hoping you're okay with that cause... PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE) but I can't 100% promise that it's going to be in the main story.

But it sounds very real. After a consolation with @calia23 we agreed that it was definitely Casey who dropped that. Our little Australian hater would NEVER accept Vale talking like that about his own kid. He is giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Like imagine Casey metaphorically slowly sitting down infront of a mic like "Okay... My fucking turn" and then he just spills that because why is cheating the first thing on Vale's mind? Rossi? Wanna tell us something?

And OOOOH the conspiracies that would follow - everyone is reviewing the 2015 materials to figure out who the possible mistress of rossi was (he denies it btw but nothing else was expected) and the rumors about David's possible real father resurface.

Now if we put this in 2017/18, David would be around 4-5 years old, so he'd be more conscious about what's happening. So imagine he's overhearing his grandparents or his uncles talking with his papa about that. He's hearing them say that his father (Vale) might betrayed his papa. But his papa is denying it all.

And he just doesn't know what to believe. He was told his father had listened to bad people who didn't had the best in mind for him and he fell for it. That's why he left. But he had always loved David. He was just currently being too stupid to see it. Like Marc had always been civil since he doesn't want David to grow up with resentment. But now they are suddenly openly talking about real betray?

A part of David's view definitely shatters. Like it's maybe the first time the golden view of his father really takes a blow. Of course he heard his grandparents curse Vale but Marc had always had a good explanation why they were wrong. And his papa always talks so lovingly about his father and sometimes even shows him pictures about their time. There is still a picture if Vale and Marc holding baby David on a shelf. But now there was no explanation for David. So he thinks there's no excuse, no explanation. He never asks. He's too afraid to get the confirmation from his papa that it's true.

The discussion about Vale were never done in secret too. Alex was more careful about his words but still... And now suddenly they are discussing the betray in silence? In secret? And in the Marquez house, there are no secret. So does that mean that there is some truth in the words? That's why David is kept away from it all and isn't supposed to know?

I can imagine David being very confused about his families behavior. Maybe he somehow hears about the accusation but he's too young to really understand them. He doesn't understand how deep the accusations actually run. He just understands that his father apparently broke his papa's trust in a horrible way.

And mind you, David is a child. He's taught to never lie and never hurt anyone. He is never allowed to break someone's trust, so he understands that this is bad.

Honestly I can't see Marc honestly believing the rumors. Like, at least at the till mid 2015/ Sepang 2015 they were a happy loving family, Vale very much involved and completly in love with Marc. So an affair seems too out of character. And Marc tries to be a good example for David (unlike Vale) so he doesn't want to participate in that mudd war Vale started.

Okay so those are just own quick thoughts on the matter. I hoped you like it and pls, anon - or literally anyone - what do you think?

And OMG I am so happy you like the AU so far that means SOOOOO much to me :)

[lizziee-olseen]

Babysister (one)

Wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x female reader

Mini serie: Babysister

Word Count:1.467

Summary:One day your mother offers you as a nanny to your neighbors who are going on a trip who would have thought that that would be the beginning of a relationship

Warnings:None so far

Note:English is not my mother tongue so if I’m wrong don’t hesitate to tell me;)

One day your mother had let you know that she had offered you to take care of your neighbors' children, at first you were angry and upset since it was just your week of summer vacation and all you wanted to do was rest, your last school year had collapsed you no longer gave more and then the stress of knowing whether or not you entered the university of your city left you more stressed, fortunately they were the children of Natasha and Wanda you had seen them from afar and the word that would best describe them at Women would be hot, both women were extremely beautiful, you never dared to approach her to greet them or something you stayed as far away from them as possible

But their children Tommy and Billy were very adorable children you had crossed them by accident when you left your house early to go to school, they were educated almost shy but when they gained confidence they were the sweetest and most outgoing children, sometimes you saw them play from their yard

But back to the present you were getting ready to go to your neighbors' house, it was hot and you wore fresh colors your baby pink shirt that fit perfectly with your body along with some shorts, your mom was not there since she had to leave the city for family affairs, you grabbed your bag with your clothes since the little that your mother had told you both women were going on a trip to celebrate their anniversary

You arrived at her door and rang the bell, you waited anxiously, you heard how a few steps approached the door and then was opened by Wanda. She looked at you with curiosity and some doubt

"Hello, I'm y/n my mother offered me to take care of Billy and Tommy" Wanda still didn't tell you anything it was almost uncomfortable

"Of course it happens" she came letting you pass you saw the boys playing video games they still didn't notice your presence they were too much concentrating playing a racing game that was until Tommy looked at his mother for a brief moment and saw you next to him, the little one quickly abandoned his game and ran to hug you to be followed by his brother

"Y/n you finally came to play with us" shouted the twin while the other jumped everywhere

"Well, it's something better, I'll be their babysister during the time their mothers are traveling" both twins shouted excitedly asking you a thousand questions that you couldn't answer immediately Wanda luckily jumped to your rescue

"Guys, why don't you go look for your other mother while I stay with y/n to explain the basics" both boys nodded and ran towards Natasha who was somewhere in the big house

Wanda signaled you to follow her and you did, she showed you the schedule of the boys, where the emergency and kitchen things were to then guide you and show you where you would stay she gave you some time to leave your things you didn't bring much more than necessary so you quickly went where all the chaos was

The boys hugged their mothers tightly while talking and as they asked them for memories of their anniversary trip you couldn't help but smile at the small image it felt too familiar and the feeling of sadness invaded your body but luckily for you both twins looked at you and ran towards you

"Mom said you could make cookies while they are away" Billy said while his brother smiled in affirmation

"Well, I'm excited to cook with my two favorite people" both invited you to play a game on their Nintendo you were going to say yes but Natasha's voice interrupted the advances

"Guys will have all the time to play but now it's time for us to say goodbye" Billy and Tommy looked at each other and ran to hug their mothers for the last time until they returned you stayed away to give them their privacy as a family, when both women said goodbye to their children they looked at you so you approached "Well you know the basics please take care of our boys, if you don't want to have two extremely angry avengers" Natasha threatened you you just nodded quickly his wife gently hit her arm and shook her head

"Don't pay too much attention to Natasha and/n but the first thing is important, prevent them from hurting themselves, their powers are still a little unstable and no visitors in our house"

"Understood Miss Romanoff" Wanda smiled simply but it was quick since Natasha spoke

"Oh, she's still maximoff," Natasha said vaguely as she went out the door, not without saying a last goodbye to her boys. Wanda followed her almost instantly, not without first giving you the keys to the house

The three of them saw how the car moved away and you are officially taking care of the children of two avengers

"So who wants to eat junk food" both twins shouted with excitement and followed you excited

The week passed quickly in the blink of an eye it was already your last day taking care of the boys, while you took care of them you learned a lot from them, being twins you thought they would be the same in their personalities but not Billy was a too outgoing child with a lot of energy you were surprised at the beginning that someone as small as him ran so fast instead Tommy was the opposite he preferred to be reading or drawing he was much more reserved with people he did not know but with you he brought out his outgoing and explosive side you quickly learned not to give them sweets before His bedtime

Right now they were preparing to welcome Natasha and Wanda, the twins insisted that you go out to buy balloons and things for a surprise party for their mothers, at first you didn't want to and you had offered them better to prepare a cake at home that didn't reassure them at all so you took your car and drove to the nearest store

They quickly went to look for serpentine balloons and party hats, they also bought a beautiful cake since the three agreed to buy it before ruining or burning the kitchen, Tommy took his feathers and some leaves and made a welcome sign you on the other hand you were decorating with Billy he inflated the balloons and you tied them and then stuck them on the ceiling they left everything organized for the arrival of Wanda and Natasha

"What time are you going to arrive?" This was the fifth time you heard the question

"According to what your mother informed me, they should already be landing" you informed them "what if we put on some music and dance" the twins quickly jumped off the couch and went to the TV to put on some music

They were so focused dancing and laughing that they didn't hear the car parked outside and neither when the door of the house was opened with two beautiful women

Wanda and Natasha were fascinated with you and their boys was an adorable sight that both did not want to interrupt their moment, but seeing you in such a tight and inappropriate outfit was enough to stop it, both were hypnotized by how your skirt went up and showed only a little of your plump ass, Wanda was the one who decided to talk

"Well, we are invited to this celebration" the three stopped dancing and the boys ran to hug their mothers "hey, how are my boys, did they behave well?"

"Yes mom y/n took us to the park and we painted and we ran a lot" Billy said "we also went to buy a cake for today"

"Yes, why don't you show me that cake" Wanda said as she left and you were left alone with Natasha

"Well, I hope the boys haven't exhausted you too much"

"Oh, it wasn't a pleasure to be with them, they are lovely guys, the truth" Natasha thought for a few seconds until she took the money out of her pocket to take care of them

"Again and/n thank you for taking care of them if you want you can still stay at the party that you helped with the twins"

"It was nothing Natasha, I would like to stay but I'm sure my mother must already miss me" so you grabbed your bag and said goodbye to Natasha not without before hugging her and running to your house without a doubt it was good to agree to take care of the boys

[spacebaby1]

After you (PART 6)

(Reader!Nanami's widower / Gojo Satoru)

You sat at the cafe with Suguru watching Choso tell him about a random cartoon show while Suguru gave him the full attention and just when you turned your head towards the door, there was Satoru with Megumi walking ahead of him and rushed when he saw Suguru.

Megumi hugged Choso as the two babies laughed and then Megumi hugged Suguru before running towards you. With a smile you ruffled his long hair; he needed a haircut immediately. Suguru had no idea about what happened between you two.

Watching Megumi and Choso play at the small playground in the café had all your attention even though both Suguru and Satoru tried to include you in the conversation, you'd just hum or nod giving them small answers. "Hello? Yes, ma. Okay, I'll be there, see you soon." Suguru ended the call before sighing, "I have to get going, mom called. We'll meet again, okay?" You smiled at him as he gave your hand a squeeze before muttering, "stay strong, beautiful. Call me if you need anything."

You sighed before getting up calling Choso, "I'll drive you to home." Gojo said and you nodded without saying much. The ride to home was suffocatingly silent only the voice of Megumi speaking to Choso about random things was heard.

Satoru immediately got out of the car after parking to help the kids out of their seats as Choso and Megumi jumped in his arms while you held Yuji making your way inside the house. Once settled in Satoru couldn't stop thinking as he noticed the dark circles under your eyes and the tired look on your face as you gathered the toys from the floor to clean up a bit yet avoiding Satoru completely.

“Are you okay?” he asked, approaching you gently, leaning forward. “You can talk to me, you know. I’m here for you.”

And it all fell apart, a sob left your lips, “I feel like I’m drowning. And I don't know what to do! I can't stop crying. I'm gonna lose my kids and I'm fucking terrified." You sobbed hands reaching your eyes hiding your pain in the darkness.

“Then don’t,” he replied, reaching across the table as he pulled your hands from your tears stained face and giving your hand a comforting squeeze. “Let me help you. Just please, i want to help you! Its killing me to see you like this and in pain. For the boys? Just let me in this and let me do this for you and for Nanamin? I will never forgive myself if anything happened to you or the boys and I'm sure Nanamin would hate me if I don't protect you and the boys. Please."

Fighting back the flood of tears was a losing battle. You broke down again at his words. How could you think of being with someone other than your Nanami? the dam of pent-up emotions collapsing all at once. “I can’t…” you cried. “I can’t just marry you because I need support. That isn’t fair to you, or to me, or to the boys. This is wrong! I don't want to ruin your chance of happiness just because for you to protect me?"

Satoru’s expression softened, and he let go of your hand, creating a space for your pain to sink in. “Darling,” he began softly, “this isn’t just about needing someone. I’d never push you into something you didn’t want. But we could be a family, and I could take care of you all. You wouldn’t have to do this alone anymore. And you're not ruining my chances in anything, I would never live with myself, let alone be in love with anyone if I know I failed to protect the people that mean the world to me. You and the boys are all I care about. I have Megumi. Why would you think I'll go looking for another woman who knows nothing about my child like you do. Someone who won't take care of my Megumi like you did when I was barely able to feed my child lost in grief? Let me he there for you."

As you wiped away the tears, feeling an overwhelming fatigue. The burden of being a single parent weighed heavily on your shoulders already. Perhaps marrying Satoru would provide stability for your sons, especially little Yuji, who barely understood the loss of his father, and Choso, who would soon be old enough to ask questions.

Whipping your tears and taking a deep breath,“Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?” you said finally, voice trembling but steadied by determination. “I…I need to think about it. I need to lay down -" making your way towards the stairs looking for something to support, and Satoru immediately grabbed your hand, leading you upstairs to your room where the boys were already sleeping.

You sat on your bed as he stood on the doorway. "Do you need me to take the boys?" You shook your head. "Do you need anything to eat?" Again you shook your head and Satoru nodded, before leaving he made his way next to you and placed a soft hand on your head immediately making your sob. "Shhh, take care of yourself, Please." You nodded whipping your tears and laying down on the bed. It wasn't long before you fell asleep and Satoru headed downstairs laying on the couch.

The next morning you woke up to the sound of Megumi and Choso playing with their toys in your room, carefree as they had just woken up from their sleep; you could tell from Megumi's and Choso's messy hair, grabbing the watch you saw it was still early in the morning. heart heavy from yesterday, you got up making your way downstairs. And poured herself a cup of coffee, when you noticed Satoru’s soft snoring from the couch as you poured him a cup of coffee and made your way towards him. He had been incredibly helpful since her Nanami ’s passing, always there to lift your spirit yet avoiding his own, even if only for a moment; to the outside world he was the strongest but right now he was as tired as any father can be taking care of his only child and now worried tirelessly about you and the boys. As you sat down on the armchair, the warmth of the early morning broke through your sadness, as did the thought of a future without the constant strain of loneliness for your little boys.

You had made your decision and just then Satoru flinched awake feeling that someone was staring at him, he sat on the couch blinking the sleep away as you handed him the coffee cup which he took with a small smile. “Okay, I’ll marry you,” you told Satoru before he could take a sip on his coffee. His eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and relief as if a weight of worry fallen of his shoulders. “It would be good for us, for the boys. But we need to take it slow. But if at any moment you feel like it's not the right thing to do and you want out, you tell me. Promise me that."

“Of course,” he nodded as you both shared the silence of the morning.

Before you know it; its been 4 years since that morning now. You found yourself laughing more often, the echoes of joy returning to your home. It was one of the afternoon where the kids would run around the backyard with Satoru playing and you watched him running around with your kids; with Choso and Megumi, Satoru’s close companion, who had become a part of their lives now, he's been nothing but a supportive role model to your boys and always treated them like his own.

“Mommy!” Yuji squealed, grinning wide, his brown eyes sparkling with pure delight as he waved at you.

“I see you, baby.” you called. Their laughter bubbling up as you saw them from where you sat at the wooden porch. That when Satoru gathered little Yuji off the gound making his yelp and burst into laughter as Satoru pretended to bite his face. Before placing him on the ground and he ran away towards his older brothers, Satoru glanced back at you, a content smile on his face. You watched him, marveling at how effortlessly he engaged with the boys, playing tag, lifting them high into the air, and making them scream with delight. Satoru made sure to place framed pictures of your late husband Nanami around the house and tell your boys about his high school year stories, their adventures, their jokes and he mostly made sure to have their fathers memory alive to them. He not once tried to take Nanami's place but tried to be around for all of you. And you appreciated him for that.

“Are you happy?” Satoru asked suddenly as he sat beside you watching the kids play, his gaze steady on you. The question was simple, but it held a deeper meaning that only you two understood. You nodded, a wave of warmth spreading through your heart. “Yes, very much,” you replied sincerely.

Omg! Yes! Finally, I got the chance to update on this. Hope you liked it, and I want to thank everyone who's been so sweet and reading my silly little fincs. I love you all! Xoxo

[botanikos]

A soft, barely audible self-soothing coo is emitted. It still felt surreal. Impossible. But seeing the light in Blitz’s eyes and the curl of his tail — his chest aches. A warmth blooms through him. Blitz is safe and most importantly, alive. When he feels the soft touch of claws against his face, Stolas can’t help but lean into it. Stars, he has craved this tenderness. He wants it so desperately. There was only one thing stopping him from pulling Blitz into his arms and holding him there until every last tear was wrung from him until his throat felt too tight, too dry, and the impression of the imp’s body was permanently etched into him. Himself. 

He listens, hanging off of every word like a hopeful and saddened flower turning towards the sun. That’s what he is, after all. . . his Sun; the brightest star in the sky. A constant and powerful thing that chases every lingering fold of darkness out of its path. But Stolas doesn’t feel as though he’s deserving of that patch of sunlight; doesn’t think he’s earned the warmth that radiates from Blitz, least of all now. No matter how badly he wants to sink into it and nest within the comfort and safety being offered to him. And though he holds Blitz’s gaze through it all, Stolas winces. His own hands rise, framing the imp's face, gentle and afraid — as if his touch might invoke some horrible event all over again. ❝ Blitz, you almost died because of me. How. . . How can you . . . ❞ He gives an exasperated sound, withdrawing to press the palms of his hands against his eyes. He can’t stay still. It was too much. The owl carefully extracts himself from the couch, practically climbing over it to put the furniture between them. Now he averts his gaze.

❝ How are you not infuriated with me? What I suggested, what I did, what I established between us put you in danger in the first place! I should have known better. There is so much of what has happened that I wouldn’t dream of taking back or changing, and Stars! If I would have thought of it sooner, if I could have — it would have saved us so much. . . and maybe, just maybe none of this would have happened. But you cannot. . . . You can’t offer me sanctuary and family when I damned well nearly ruined yours! You have a daughter, Blitz! You have friends and an established career and all of that nearly came crumbling down — you almost DIED because of what I did. I need. . . .❞ Tears spill from red eyes, bright but not shining. Stolas turns away, beak clicking the moment he thumps the top of his head on the ceiling fan once more. This time it doesn’t threaten to fall, and the impact is less jarring. Nevertheless, he glares at it before hugging himself tightly. 

❝ You say I do not need to earn a place here, but why not? I think I do. I should! How can you just give me a place to stay and care for me? How can Loona so readily offer clothes to the one who nearly took her father away and ❞ But Stolas can’t conjure the words. He dissolves, and with the trembling that overtakes him, doesn’t trust his body to move. So the owl lets himself drop rather ungracefully to the floor. Drawing his legs close, Stolas buries his face and lets the wreckage of his emotions spill. He could not keep it in, could not hold his mask. But he can hide his face and do his best to stifle the sounds. 

❝ I will. . . I will do my best. ❞ He resigns himself to that and does not dare promise anything outright. Because he was already half of who he was; he felt so empty, so lost, and everything was uncertain. He tried desperately, over and over to remind himself it was only one hundred years. But it already felt so impossibly long, and he had no way of knowing what Via would think of him. They would become strangers.

Stolas wasn’t certain he could survive the aftershocks. But he would try. Maybe not for himself. He could do it for Via, and even for Blitz, but not himself. There was something tragic in it all, and he felt like sand slipping through fingers. Too small, too insignificant, too easy to miss or let go of. Just a pretty decoration to put in a glass and show off.

Blitz watched him, his heart in his throat, but he couldn't help smiling in relief when Stolas spoke to him. Eyes seeming to brighten, tail curling happily at just the sound of Stolas's voice, Blitz shrugged. Dressed in loose old boxers and a tattered t-shirt that had been made for someone six times his size, Blitz looked a little ridiculous maybe, and he certainly looked tired, but he also looked happy.

"A little. More than I thought I would, but I was up for a while. And Stolas, it's... it's really good. To hear your voice." The room had that slightly damp warmth to it from the two of them, from the bath and the shower, from more people sleeping here than there usually were, but it was comforting. The sleep-smell of the air, their hushed voices, the fact that they were able to speak despite the pain, all of it was comforting. Moving up to his knees, Blitz scooted over closer and reached up to brush his claws feather-lightly through the fluff at the side of Stolas's facial disk. "You kind of came through for me in the biggest way last night. And it was... terrifying. Thinking you were going to be--that they were going to... that you and I would never get to... to say goodbye.

"There's a lot we probably need to say. And we can. When you're ready. But." He moved up and kissed his forehead, then pressed his own against those soft feathers. "I need you to listen to me right now, okay? Please.

"Everything's going to... I can't even imagine how it's going to feel. Except... kind of, a little. I was kicked out of my home. Everyone hated me. They didn't want me back. It had been a shitty place. Abusive. Horrible. But it was all I ever knew. So I... I get it. At least a little bit. How bad this is all going to be. And I know how hard it's gonna be to keep breathing. To want to keep breathing. But Stolas... I promise," Blitz met his eyes, if Stolas let him, "I promise, you won't be doing it alone. I'm not going to give up on you. Whatever we, whatever we are to each other, whatever happens next, it doesn't matter. Because you are my family. Okay? Already. You're my family. You don't have to, you don't have to earn that. Or do anything. You've already done everything. You're my family, and what happened to you, because of me, it's bullshit. And I'm not going to let that bullshit destroy you, okay?

"You're going to be okay. Not today, and not tomorrow. But... eventually. You're gonna be okay. But until then? If you gotta scream, or cry, or just curl up and not think or move for hours on end? I got you. I'm not gonna judge you, or reject you, or get tired of you, okay? Shit might be hard, but I need you to know this: you will always have a place here. Even if you don't feel like you deserve it. Even if you feel like you're in the way or something. You belong. And you're not getting abandoned. And I know there's--there's probably gonna be a lot of shit that'll seem new. Or like you don't... like you don't know how, or can't do it, or... but I'll teach you, okay? Whatever you need to learn, if it's shit I can teach you, I will.

"That's what I am gonna do. And what I need from you? Is your promise to keep breathing. That you'll stay alive. That you'll eat food and drink water. That you won't disappear on me, cause," Blitz's voice broke, "I can't, I can't handle it if you disappear on me again. Okay? Please. Just tell me you'll stay alive, and that you'll keep trying. And that's gonna be enough for me, okay? Cause you don't--you don't gotta have all the answers and solutions on your own. I'm gonna be at your side the whole fuckin' way, from here on out. And we can do this. Together. I promise. We can do this."

Eyes shining, voice shaking, heart feeling like it would shatter apart from the force of the love and hope blazing within it, Blitz looked into his lovers eyes, praying they would understand, praying Stolas would at least be willing to consider agreeing, that they weren't too far gone. Not yet.

[livingbythewords]

Mike Ehrmantraut (Breaking Bad) and Mark Hoffman (Saw)

[brazilian-whalien52]

I am so upset that my host family told me they brought tickets for the ice cream festival and in the end they didn't

[sinner-as-saint]

scary? my god, you're divine

Hitman/Mob!Bucky x Reader 

Run-through: Your marriage to Bucky Barnes was crucial in stopping the rivalry that had been getting rather violent recently between the two families. You agreed to it. But there was one little problem. Although people knew of Bucky as being a ruthless, fiercely loyal, and feared hitman, no one had ever seen his face. In the rare occasions when he’d been seen out during assignments, it was rumoured that he always wore some sort of mask which covered most of his face. So you ended up marrying a man, and had no idea what he looked like. But surely that wouldn’t be an issue. It’s not like his one touch would get you addicted. Who cared what he looked like? It’s not like you could grow to love someone like him anyway… right? 

Themes: arranged marriage, age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, bucky’s in his late thirties), mentions of violence and death, hitman!Bucky, smut, fluff, explicit language, virgin!reader, HEA

Something woke you up in the middle of the night. 

And you’d been staring at the dark ceiling above your bed for the past few minutes now. What had woken you up? It could’ve been the strong winds hitting the large Georgian windows. Or perhaps it was the soft ticking of the nearby clock. Or maybe even the weight of all the incessant thoughts running through your head. 

Gods, you thought, what a day. 

It had started out like any other. Your father was pacing around, worried and barking orders on the phone, trying to find a way to put a stop to this chaos that was quickly forming into a full war between him and his number one rival. Small attacks had turned to frequent drive-bys, threats had turned into taking turns and blowing up each other’s warehouses and clubs. And it would only get worse and worse. 

But this morning, as he watched you come downstairs and into the dining room for breakfast, something in his eyes was different. And you could tell what was coming. You had been thinking about this for days. So when he sat you down and discussed how you could do your part in helping to put an end to all of this. 

“It’s only a matter of time before he sends his son, his favourite weapon after us all,” Your father sounded defeated. “And none of us would survive him. No one ever does. You know that.” 

You nodded, understanding what he meant. “I know.” 

The son of your father’s rival, Bucky Barnes, was a name which could make even powerful men like your father tremble in fear. He was like a ghost. No one ever saw him. No one knew what he looked like. Those who had seen him claimed that he always wore a muzzle-like mask to conceal his identity. He was known for being his father’s most prized weapon. They say he never misses, that his aim is and has always been as sure as Eros’ arrows. He was like an evil Cupid. 

“The marriage would only be on paper of course, you don’t have to live with him.” Your father explained, seeming desolated, “But you being married to him would make us family, and…” He trailed off, sighing. 

But you knew what he meant. Family meant everything in this society. If your family and the rival’s were joined to each other by marriage, all attacks would cease. Because keeping family safe was everyone’s number one priority, even in this line of work. 

So this was all up to you now. Your family’s safety, the safety of people who worked with and for your father, all the allies, and friends, and acquaintances. It was a heavy weight to carry. 

“I’ll do it.” 

Things happened so quickly after that. Phone calls were had, arrangements and deals were made, and by the afternoon, a sheet of paper was brought to you. That’s it. No groom, no fancy shit. Just a piece of paper on which Bucky Barnes had already signed. And with your signature added next to his, you two were now forever husband and wife by law. 

It was weird, being married to a man you had never seen before. He was just a name. Granted, a name with immense magnitude in the society, but still just a name. No face to go with it. 

By the evening, your things were packed. It was an order by your new husband. He wanted his new bride in his home, and things were so freshly mended that neither you nor your father wanted to argue. So Bucky sent cars and a bunch of his soldiers to escort you to his house. It was not unexpected that he was so absent from all this. Bucky Barnes had a reputation of living in the shadows. He was so rarely seen.

Bucky’s house was not too far from your family home. In fact, the closer you got to your new home, the more you realised that despite everything, you did not mind this as much as you thought you would. 

Your husband’s home was this stunning piece of architecture. A lavish Georgian-style mansion. Beige stone, carved details and mouldings around the many windows and main entrance. Dark shingles on the roof, well-manicured lawn, a long driveway giving it a sense of both elegance and exclusivity. The mansion sat on a beautiful, seemingly endless estate. Lush and green. It was a testament to the wealth and the power of its owner. 

You were politely led inside the home by one of the many staff members who took care of the house. And the interior was just as breathtaking. Luxurious, with the right amount of vintage accents. 

“We did what we could with the limited time we had to prepare a room for you.” The kind lady had said to you. She also mentioned that this room would be entirely yours. Bucky apparently had his own on the other side of the mansion. 

You murmured that it was alright, and when she finally showed you to the room they had ready for you, you were pleasantly impressed. The layout, the colour theme, the decor, all of it was to your liking. You even had a personal little balcony which looked over the endless green backyard. 

That night you dined alone, which was not a surprise. Everyone knew Bucky Barnes was a busy man, and he was apparently above trivial things like dining with his new wife. But the silence was welcomed. After dinner you found yourself back in your bedroom, and soon in bed with a book. 

Well, maybe this was your new life now. Grand mansion with an impressive library. Solo dinners and kind staff members. A giant, dreamy bedroom all for you. Dare you say, it wasn’t too bad. 

–

But here you were now, unable to fall back asleep after some mysterious thing woke you up. You sighed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. You couldn’t even blame your new surroundings for your inability to sleep. Everything here was so quiet, and comfortable. Even this new bed felt like laying on the fluffiest cloud. Perhaps you could read some more–

You froze when you heard it. 

Someone breathing. Someone else’s breaths. A soft exhale, but it was enough to make your heart race in panic. It was the middle of the night. And there was someone in this dark room with you. 

Slowly, you tried to reach for the lamp on your bedside table to turn it on, but then you heard a voice say, “Don’t.” 

A smooth, relaxed, male voice. Sounding like it came from one corner of the room. It could only be one man, couldn’t it? 

“Bucky?” You questioned, for some reasons pulling the covers up to your chin as if he was not a man but a ghost. 

A pause, then he said, like he was gently teasing you, “Hello, wife. Can’t sleep?” 

You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness better. You strained your eyes until you could see the silhouette of a man in the corner of the room. He was sitting in one of the sofas near the unlit fireplace, quiet, still like a marble statue. 

There was almost no light coming into the room. The thick curtains allowed very little moonlight in, and it was hard to see. But you couldn’t ignore that large silhouette now that you’d noticed him. Something near him was shiny, almost metal like, you couldn’t tell what it was. 

“Do you always lurk around in the shadows like a ghost?” You asked, wondering where the hell you found the confidence to talk to one of the finest hitmen like this. It’s not like he would shoot you if he didn’t like you. A small voice said. Would he? 

A chuckle. Deep, and careless. A boyish sound. 

“It’s my house,” He responded in that same gentle but teasing tone, “I lurk wherever I please.” 

Well, he did have a point there. 

“Well then,” You said in a casual tone, “If you’re done lurking and spying on me, I’d like to go back to bed.” 

A soft scoff. Then he said, “I’ve watched you toss and turn for the past half an hour. I’d say you’re having trouble turning your brain off.” 

Half an hour?! 

“Wouldn’t you?” You retorted, keeping your voice calm and steady. “If you were forced to marry someone who’s so mysterious that no one’s ever seen them before, wouldn’t you have some trouble turning your brain off?” 

“Ah.” He got up, and you could tell by the sound of his footsteps that he was approaching the bed, “No one forced you to marry me. A suggestion was made and you agreed to it.” 

You replied quickly, “The alternative was watching everyone I love and myself be murdered by you, so semantics.” 

Another chuckle as he stopped at the edge of the bed, so close to you. You refused to move. You tilted your head up but could still only see his silhouette. He spoke in that teasing tone again, “They said you were smart, and beautiful. Guess they forgot to mention you were bratty too.” 

You frowned. “What?” 

Silence. Then he began moving away from your bed and towards the door. “Good night, wife.” 

“Good night,” You muttered, slightly annoyed and confused, “Ghost.” 

You heard his soft chuckle right as he shut the door behind him and left you all alone again in the dark. You didn’t dare turn the lamp on even after he left. 

— 

“Is Bucky ever home?” 

You asked one of the staff members at breakfast the next morning. The lady smiled at you and answered, “He keeps to himself. We rarely ever know if he’s home or not. He works at odd hours, you see? Besides, our job is to take care of the house. We clean, we make the meals and leave them in the fridge, we get our paychecks each month. Everyone is happy. We don’t pry.” 

You nodded, sipping on some tea. “So… are you one of the people who don’t know what he looks like?” 

“Oh no. I saw him recently.” She said, smiling. 

“How recent?” You asked. 

“A couple of months ago. He’s a busy man, he’s rarely ever home.” 

Unbelievable. 

“Doesn’t it feel like you’re employed by a ghost?” 

She smiled again, refilled your cup and said, “Oh, we’re used to Mr. Barnes. Sure, sometimes it feels like the house is way too empty. But look, now you’re here! We get to take proper care of someone for once.” 

She was so cheery and kind that you couldn’t help but smile at her words. How on earth did a man that grim manage to have the best staff members in the whole world? 

— 

The following night, Bucky came to see you again. 

You woke up upon hearing the door of your bedroom opening. You sat up again, leaning against the headboard. You didn’t reach for the lamp on your bedside table this time. Instead you said, “Lurking again, I see.” 

“Oh yes,” He answered, taking a seat on the same sofa by the dark fireplace. “How was your day, wife?” He asked, as if this was the most normal way to have a conversation. 

“Good.” You said, “I spoke with your staff members. They say they barely ever see you at home.” 

He sighed, “I barely ever am at home.” 

You rolled your eyes even though you knew he couldn’t see it. He was too… intangible. Faceless. There was nothing you knew about him aside from his profession. And not knowing was starting to annoy you. 

“Why can’t I see you?” You asked. “I mean it’s not fair. I married you. I’ll eventually see you someday.” 

He was silent for a moment. Then asked, “Will you?” 

“Well, yes.” 

“What for?” There was that teasing tone again. So subtle. But it was there. 

Your face burned. “Well… we’re married.” You stated the obvious. “And it won’t be long till our families start asking for, you know, grandbabies.” 

“Babies can be made in the dark.” His smooth voice felt like a gentle caress. Like the finest, cool silk sliding over your warm body… 

Oh no. You can’t like his voice. Not yet. 

“That’s not what I–,” You sighed, “Why are you so against showing your face? Are you ugly?” 

He chuckled then. Loudly, if you could see him you’d surely see his shoulders shaking. “You think too much, wife.” He got up again, ready to leave. “Good night.” 

You sighed, defeated, and listened to the sounds of him leaving the room. Then almost angrily whispered, “Good night, husband.” 

—

“It’s because he’s ugly, isn’t it?” You asked two of the staff members one morning while they set the table for your breakfast. “That’s why he doesn’t show his face?” 

The two ladies chuckled to themselves, and one of them said, “No he isn’t.” She sounded confident too. 

“Have you seen his face? Like properly?” 

They both nodded. 

“And? You don’t find it weird that he doesn’t show his face?” You questioned. “He refuses to let me see him. He only comes to talk to me in the dark. Like some messed up Eros.” You whispered the last part to yourself. 

One of the ladies said, gently, “Give him time. He’s not… terrible.” 

— 

“Your staff speaks highly of you.” You said to him when he came to see you that night. Again, sat in that corner like a ghost whose only purpose was to haunt your bedroom specifically. 

“Do they?” 

“Yes,” You made yourself comfortable, leaning against the headboard like you had the habit of doing. “Do you pay them to sing your praises?” 

He chuckled. “Is it that hard to believe that I’m not some sort of monster?” 

You sighed. “If not then why can’t I see you?” 

“Not yet.” He said. 

“Why?” 

“Because I said so.” He replied, and by the sounds of it, he stood up. Surely ready to leave. “Now, is there anything you need?” 

You tried to see if you could tell where he was standing but the room was too dark. However, it seemed like, judging by the sound of footsteps, that he’d gotten closer to the end of your bed. “There’s nothing to do around the house. The ladies take care of everything. I appreciate the library, but…” 

He was quiet, like he was thinking. Then said, “I’ll see to it.” 

“I’m assuming you won’t let me go back to work in my family’s companies.” You could tell he wouldn’t. 

“No,” He said, as expected. “You’re my wife now. I’m well equipped to provide for you and see to your needs for the rest of our lives. But if you have any hobbies, please, indulge away.” 

Something about his calm tone made you confess your little secret, “I like to paint. I’ve always wanted to be an artist.” 

You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Perhaps the dark helped you open up better. Maybe the fact that you didn’t know him made it easier to talk. Like how people tend to prefer texting over calls. Him being so invisible made it so much more effortless. 

You continued, “I always wonder what it must be like to have an exhibition of my works.” You chuckled. “I know it sounds vain but… I’ve always wanted to let my mind and soul leak all over canvases, and share it with the world. I think it’s such a brave thing when people do that.” 

He was quiet for a few seconds, then spoke in that teasing tone, “Painting, huh?” 

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t get to make fun of me, ghost.” 

He chuckled. “Get some sleep, wife.” 

And then he left. 

— 

The following morning, you woke up to two surprises. 

The first one was waiting for you at the breakfast table. You noticed the box on the floor immediately. It was partially opened, and had a note stuck to it. 

The note read: ‘Since there’s nothing to do around the house…’ written in a messy handwriting. Surely Bucky’s. 

You opened the box and in there, on a folded blanket, was a sleeping, fluffy little puppy. A black lab it seemed. With a pink collar around her neck. You gasped as you gently picked it up and couldn’t resist bringing it up to your face. Puppies always smelt so good. 

The little one yawned and let out some cute noises as you held her up to look at her properly. By now the two ladies whom you saw frequently around the house walked up to you and one of them said, “He left something else for you.” 

You followed the ladies, new puppy in hand, and they led you to what seemed like a newly built studio. It was in an area of the mansion where you didn’t go very often. And as you walked in, you gasped in surprise for the second time that morning. 

It was located on the ground floor. A bright and spacious space. The beige walls felt like a giant blank canvas in itself. The large Georgian windows allowed the perfect amount of light in. And everything in the room was neatly organised. Art supplies, paints, canvases, palettes, easels. 

Oh, it was perfect. 

The ladies left you to explore on your own, saying something about bringing you breakfast in here. But you were distracted by the bright yellow sticky note on one of the easels. You walked up to it and it read: ‘For your mind and soul to leak all over. Paint me something. I’ll consider it a wedding gift.’ 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read and re-read the note left by your mysterious husband. You whispered to your sleeping puppy, “Maybe our ghost isn’t so bad, huh?” 

-

Hours went by. 

The ladies brought you and the puppy your meals, a bed for the pup, snacks for you, all while you were busy letting your creativity flow as much as possible. 

The first few canvases were horrible according to you. You hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in so long so it felt like day one all over again. But gradually, over the next few canvases, you could see what your brain was trying to create. 

The blank canvas soon turned into flowy shapes. Curves, facial features, hands. Entwining bodies. Two of them. And the colour purple, lots of it. It didn’t make too much sense at first, but the more you worked on it the more you realised what you were painting. 

It was your version of ‘The Abduction of Psyche’. How fitting. 

By the time you were done and happy with it, your back was aching from sitting on that stool all day. It was almost time for dinner. The sun had set. The puppy was awake so you held her up to show her the canvas and asked, “You think our ghost will like it?” 

She let out the tiniest, softest howl. 

“Yeah, I think so too.” 

You left to shower and have dinner. Then once it was time for bed you asked one of the staff members, “Does Bucky have some kind of an office?” 

She replied saying yes he does, and that she could show you where it was. You grabbed the not yet dry canvas and carefully carried it all the way to where Bucky’s office was. The lady again left you all by yourself to explore. 

At first you didn’t want to spend too much time in there. It was Bucky’s space after all. But then you thought, if he was comfortable walking into your bedroom at odd times during the night, why shouldn’t you check out his office? 

So you did. You left the canvas where it could dry without any problem and where Bucky would see it upon entering the room. Then you began exploring. The room was not what you were expecting for someone like Bucky. You thought it would be less… old school. 

He had a vintage looking typewriter on his desk for gods’ sake. Not one he used of course, but it added layers to his character you thought. Dark wooden furniture, comfortable looking chairs, more bookshelves filled with cloth-bound books. It was… cosy. 

So cosy in fact that you grabbed a book and made yourself comfortable on one of the chairs. You’d read for an hour or so then head off to bed, you thought. 

But soon, you drifted off to sleep. Right there. In Bucky’s office. 

-

You woke up and felt something soft and fluffy moving around on your lap. You opened your eyes and quickly realised you weren’t in bed. The room was dark. With very little light coming in from the outside. There were no curtains in this room, but also it was situated in an area of the mansion where very little moonlight came in.

Before you could panic though, a voice spoke up from not too far away, “You’ve been busy today, I see.” 

Ah, Bucky. And fuck. You’d fallen asleep in his office. 

You refused to feel embarrassed. So you asked, “Did you like your wedding gift?” 

“Yes.” He replied, and gauging by the sound you could tell he was sitting at his desk, in the darkest corner of the room. “I’ll hang it in my office.” 

You smiled in the dark, feeling a little proud of yourself. “And where’s my wedding gift?” 

“In your lap.” 

Fair. 

“What should we name her?” You asked, reaching to caress your puppy who let out an adorable grunt. “Hedone? Donnie, for short?” 

He let out a chuckle. “You are really leaning into this whole Eros-Psyche thing, huh?” 

You shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t have to if you’d just show me your face. But you keep choosing not to, so deal with it.” 

A pause. Then he asked, “You like your new studio?” 

That made you sit up straighter. “I love it. Thank you.” Then you added, “My family always thought painting was a waste of time. They said it kept my head in the clouds too much. That it was… pointless.” 

He was quick to say, “It’s not. Besides, your hobbies don’t have to make sense to anyone else but yourself. And I’ve seen the other canvases you left in the studio. They’re good.” 

You turned to face the dark corner he was in. “You think?” 

“Yes,” He said. “We can hold an exhibition if you want. Let me know when you’re ready.” 

You let out a surprised chuckle. And when he didn’t laugh you realised he was serious. “Bucky, it's not so easy.” You explained calmly. “There’s so much work that goes into it, there needs to be some cohesion to the art pieces. There’s marketing, there’s research, there’s…” You exhaled, “There’s a lot of work to be done. Art exhibitions aren’t as easy or quick as you think it is.” 

He replied, “Leave all that to me. Just let me know when you want to hold one.” 

Just like that? 

“I… okay.” 

You felt warm in a way you’d never felt before. No one had ever taken your interests so seriously before. You’d never even been able to discuss this freely about your hobbies. And here Bucky was, ready to listen and interact with it. 

You got up to leave because this was… a lot to process. “Well then. Good night, Bucky.” 

A soft scoff. “Think I liked it more when you called me a ghost.” 

You smiled as you approached the door, puppy in hand and amazed at how well you were able to navigate in the dark. “Night, ghost.” 

He gave you a satisfied hum, then, “Good night, wife.” 

— 

It was bizarre to admit but you’d gotten used to those conversations in the dark with your husband. Days went by quickly given how engrossed you were with painting. Especially with the thought of a potential exhibition now in the back of your mind. Gods, that would be a dream. 

And while your days consisted of painting, playing and training your puppy, exploring more and more of the grounds and your new home, making quick trips to the stores to get more supplies, catching up with your friends who were still trying to grasp the fact that you got married so quickly, getting to know the household staff and the guards better, your night consisted of waiting and fighting your sleep until Bucky came to talk to you. 

It was always short conversations. Filled with easy banter and teasing tones, sarcastic comments and you asking each and every night if he was in the mood to show his face. Bucky always said no. And you always sent him off with a ‘good night, ghost’. 

You had gotten used to your ghost. As had your puppy. She would bark happily each time Bucky would enter your bedroom door at night. She’d run to him for playtime and cuddles as he sat in his dark corner and spoke with you until you fell asleep. 

Bucky would often leave you some kind of a note, for you to read in the morning. At the breakfast table, or in your studio. Sometimes he would leave compliments and comments on your dry canvases. Eventually, you stopped fighting the smiles which formed on your face as you read his notes. 

But all of it only made you want to see him more. Not that it would change anything. Bucky had quickly become… a friend, you’d say. A confidant if you will. He had become a habit. Part of your routine. 

And then one night, he didn’t come to see you. 

You waited. He usually came around midnight. It was well past 2 a.m. and he never came. 

At some point you went downstairs, pretending as if you just needed some water. One of the guards caught you trying to peek out into the driveway from the kitchen window. 

“Boss is not home yet, ma’am.” He said. 

You acted like you didn’t care. But still asked, “He does this often?” 

“Sometimes.” 

You nodded. You took your drink and with your puppy in your arms you walked back upstairs, passing by the many guards who were on duty inside the house at nighttime. 

“It’s alright, he’s probably just busy.” You whispered to the sleeping pup as you made your way up. “Or maybe he’s hurt and tending to his wounds somewhere else.” You felt a gentle pinch in your chest at the thought of Bucky hurt and alone out there. So you forced yourself to think of something else. Something way worse. “Or maybe he’s with someone else.” You scoffed, nuzzling the soft fur of your pup, “This marriage means nothing to him anyway. But that’s alright, we don’t need him. I’ve got you. We’ve got each other. Don’t we?” 

Safe to say, you went to bed slightly annoyed that night. And in denial too because you refused to admit that you missed him. 

– 

There was a note waiting for you in your studio the next morning. 

It read: ‘No I did not spend the night with someone else. I’ll explain later. See you tonight, wife.’ 

Huh. Looks like the guards have really good ears. 

Well, whatever. It’s not like you were impatiently waiting for night to come just so you could talk to your ghost of a husband. Right? 

Except you were though. So much that you couldn’t paint a decent thing. You were easily giving up on each canvas, and leaving a trail of unfinished work the more time went on. 

Eventually you sighed and left the studio. You tried reading but that wasn’t happening either. So you did the only thing you knew would take your mind off things. You asked the ladies to show you where everything was kept in the kitchen and you got to baking. 

Which you did until it was time for bed. Your mood was off, and it was all because of a faceless man. And that somehow annoyed you even more. 

You grabbed a plate of the mini muffins you’d made earlier and made your way upstairs. Your puppy had just gotten used to the stairs so she happily followed you everywhere you went now. 

You proceeded to sit in bed, and eat your muffins angrily and forced yourself to try to sleep. 

-

You woke up sometime later. And you just knew who was in the room with you. 

Except he wasn’t in his usual spot. 

He was standing by the windows which faced your bed this time, with his back to you. The curtains were pulled, the moonlight came and there was his dark silhouette. And… you frowned as you noticed the shiny metal arm. 

“You’re home.” You said. 

Bucky turned his head to the side, “I am.” He said. 

You took a second or two to admire the side profile. With the moonlight shining all around his silhouette he looked like a fallen angel of sorts. “You didn’t come home last night.” 

“I was out working,” He said. 

“Maiming and killing?” 

“You know me so well.” 

“Is that a… metal arm?” You questioned. 

“It is.”  

“Were you hurt?” 

“I was.” 

You sighed again. “Is it always going to be bland answers and mystery with you?” 

“Get used to it.” He said in that teasing tone. 

You got out of bed as quietly as you could. “I think I liked you better without the attitude, when you sat in the corner like a ghost.” You took some steps away from the bed, approaching the giant windows. The room was rather spacious so it would take some more steps to get close to him. If you’d only– 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.” He warned, but remained in the same spot. 

You groaned. “Don’t you think this is getting tiring? I mean, I’m married to a man I’ve never seen before. In fact, no one has ever seen you. Why? What are you hiding?” You added, sounding defeated.  

Bucky lowered his head, which only accentuated how broad his shoulders really were. He sighed. “Do you know how much trouble could’ve been avoided if only Psyche trusted Eros?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I think she had her reasons. A mysterious, faceless lover who only shows up in the dark and hides in the shadows is bound to raise some doubts. Don’t you think so?” 

He chuckled. You blinked and he’d turned around to face you. But despite that, you couldn’t see his face at all. Even though he was inches away. 

He was quiet. Observing you with interest. The moonlight allowed him to see all of you, and he just… stared for a moment or two. A shiver ran down your back. An unfamiliar, but pleasant shiver. 

Without a word said, Bucky reached out and gently touched the thin strap of your silky night dress resting on your shoulder. His metal finger gliding along your skin and making you gasp at his cold touch. 

“What’s this?” He asked in his usual teasing tone. “Trying to tempt me with this excuse of a night dress, wife?” 

Fuck. Had his voice dropped lower? 

Fuck! He was so close to you. You didn’t even notice that your heart had begun racing. Your breaths had deepened. Shit. Why was this so hot?! 

“Are you? Tempted?” You asked with a steady voice, without thinking obviously. You just needed to say something so he wouldn’t notice the way you were basically panting after him like a thirsty dog. 

He chuckled. But remained quiet. 

So you said, “Thought so.” You sounded smug but you were feeling the complete opposite. 

Bucky scoffed in that arrogant way he often did. It was insane how easily you were able to pick up on his mannerism when you hadn’t even known him for that long. “Is that what you think? That I don’t want to sleep with you?” 

Oh. 

Oh this was bad. Because now your brain was making up hot, steamy scenes in your head. Scenes involving you and your faceless, mysterious husband in the dark. Entwining bodies on soft bed sheets. Fuck, you should paint that. No, what?  

“Then why haven’t you?” You found yourself asking. 

Okay then, bold as fuck it is. You’d gone past the point of no return now. Guess it was time for this conversation. 

Bucky’s fingers remained on your shoulder, tracing the thin strap there. And you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the smirk in his voice when he asked, “You want me to?” His metal hand dropped to your waist and before you could fully process it, he pulled you closer, leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You want my hands all over you, wife?” 

You could feel his slight stubble against your skin as he spoke. His lips brushing against your ear, making you gasp and tremble. Your hands found their way to his shoulders. And oh, he was pulling you even closer. Your chest pressing against his. The cool material of his suit felt amazing against your warm skin. 

“Look at you,” He cooed into your ear. “Is this what you want? Hmm?” He placed both his hands on your waist, pulling you into him. His lips moved lower, brushing against your neck as he spoke. “You like how rough my hands feel?” He moved his hands up and down your sides. “Do you know how many people I’ve hurt with these hands?” He chuckled when he heard the tiniest moan leave your mouth. “You’re so soft and warm, aren’t you worried what these hands might do to you?” 

He nuzzled your neck, hands roaming all over your sides and back and squeezing your butt. You became so pliant under his touch. Tilting your head back to allow him to kiss all over your neck, pressing your chest more and more against his like you couldn’t get enough. The layers of clothing, you wanted them gone. 

With a shaky voice you murmured, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to scare me or turn me on.” 

He laughed. And it was the best sound you’d ever heard. 

“You’re sick in that pretty head, huh?” He teased. “That beautiful brain is filled with filthy, dirty, dark thoughts, isn’t it?” His metal hand reached up and carefully wrapped around your throat. 

You gasped as he squeezed just a little bit. Those dirty thoughts he spoke about really started to fill your head. 

“Are you just all talk or–,” 

He cut you off by dragging you all the way to your bed, still holding you by the throat. 

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and he gave you a slight push, ending with you falling onto your bed on your back. You looked up at him, hovering above you, his lower body pressing into yours. 

“Do you just run that mouth?,” He asked, supporting himself with one hand while the metal one remained wrapped around your throat, his voice low and menacing but in a way that made your legs part on their own so his hips settled in between them. Your bodies fit together like the most perfect puzzle pieces. “Or do you know how to take it like a brat as well?” 

You felt the need to let him know then. “I don’t know,” You said, sounding both breathless and bratty. “I’ve never had to take it.” 

He paused for a moment. Then asked in subtle surprise, “What do you mean?” Even his grip around your throat loosened completely. 

You squirmed in slight embarrassment but that only caused your hips to grind against his and for a moment there both of you let out a strained moan. Fuck. The tension between the two of you was almost physical now. Even in the dark, even with Bucky being nothing more than just a shadow above you. 

“I, uh…” You cleared your throat, still feeling his cold fingers all over your skin, “I’ve never been with anyone before.” 

He was quiet. As if thinking. You tried your hardest but you couldn’t see any of his facial features. You knew he had a slight stubble because you’d felt it earlier. But aside from that, you knew nothing. Not even his eye colour. 

“You want us to stop?” He asked, shifting his body slightly as if he was ready to pull away if you asked him to. 

“No,” You answered way too quickly. Then you got bold again and let your hands find their way back to his shoulders. You pulled him down, closer to you just a little and said, “This is okay.” 

His fingers moved up, from your neck to your mouth. “Yeah? You want this, huh?” He mumbled, tracing your mouth with his fingers. You shivered under his touch. “You’ve been a whiny little brat lately, haven’t you, wife? Pouting and all just because I wouldn’t show myself to you.” He whispered, leaning in to just brush his lips against yours. You gasped at the sensation of his soft lips rubbing against yours. Bucky chuckled at your reaction. “Don’t think my staff doesn’t report back to me. I’ve been well aware of all the times you asked the ladies to give you details about me.” 

Now that made you squirm in embarrassment. Still you said, sounding a little annoyed at being caught. “Can you blame me?”

“Can’t you just trust me?” He argued. 

The danger and authority in his tone had your thighs clenching together to try and alleviate the torturous pain in between your legs. You were almost certain you had never been this turned on and annoyed at the same damn time before. You sighed in frustration. “This isn’t fair.” 

“No, it isn’t,” He said, pulling away and began undressing you to your pleasant surprise. “Deal with it.” 

Oh fuck. 

Fuck… You had to hold back from whimpering each time his hands rubbed against your skin. He took his time in sliding the straps of your night dress down your shoulders, dragging the silky fabric down your body, leaving you more and more naked under him. 

You shivered once he left your night dress bunched around your waist carelessly. It wasn’t just because of the slightly cold air. It was because even though you couldn’t see him, you could tell he was staring right at you. 

You spoke in a hushed voice, not daring to speak loud in fear that it might break whatever spell you were under. “So you get to see me naked all you want, but I can’t see your face?” 

He chuckled. “You want me to leave this room right now? Leave you here all wet and squirming? Or do you want me to take care of it and make you come? Huh?” 

That shut you up really quickly. 

“I thought so.” He sounded smug again when he said that. “I should spank you for the brat you are. But since it’s your first time… I’ll be nice.” 

His hands touched you everywhere, your thighs, your stomach, your sides, your chest, your neck… everywhere. He left you gasping and trembling under him. 

“Please.” You caught yourself whispering. 

Bucky leaned down, his soft mouth brushing against your cheek as he said, “Please what?” 

You squirmed, “Touch me, please.” 

He chuckled. You felt his warm breath against your skin as he kissed his way down your naked body. “Look at you,” He murmured, lips brushing against your stomach, “You’re so eager already.” 

You heard the faint chuckle which left his mouth the moment he noticed your legs spread apart for him naturally. Your face felt like it was burning but fuck, you were too turned on to even be properly embarrassed. Also, being in complete darkness helped. 

Damn. You were really getting intimate with your husband whom you hadn’t even seen yet. And somehow that fact was making you want this even more. 

But that mystery stopped being an issue the moment Bucky leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease.

He poked at your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than before. Back arching off the bed as you let out a soft moan at the foreign feeling. Fuck he felt good. You whimpered as you felt his tongue stroke your most sensitive parts. Your immediate reaction was to pull your hips back from the overwhelmingly good sensation his mouth was causing. And that made him grip your thighs tighter, keeping them pinned to the bed. 

“Stop moving.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble. 

You whined as you felt his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to his mouth. The metal hand on your warm skin made you shiver and tremble so much that you were thankful for the darkness. 

The small amount of moonlight which came in allowed you to only see the silhouette of his broad shoulders, and his head moving slowly, sensually in between your legs. Fuck… somehow the mystery only made it hotter.

Oh you were fucked in the head for real. 

And oh, Bucky was a fucking tease. Once he noticed how easily you cried out and moaned for him, he slowed down and began kissing around your clit just to purposely mess with you. He kissed your thighs, purposely avoiding touching where he knew you needed him the most. He kissed down all the way to your core, and gently bit your skin around your inner thighs. 

“Bucky, please!” You cried out, hand reaching for his hair. When you managed to grab a fistful of his soft hair, you gave it a gentle tug. “Stop teasing me.” 

“You don’t get to give me orders, wife.” He said, sounding all proud and mighty. “I could just walk out of here and leave you like this. Naked and squirming.” 

“Please,” You begged again. You could feel your arousal trickling out of you. 

A scoff. Then he leaned in again. You whined and whimpered under him, with your legs wrapped around his head. Fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp instinctively as he flicked, and sucked, and teasing your clit as much as he could. 

“You’ve been a brat because you wanted your husband’s attention so badly, huh?” He taunted. “Is that what you wanted? Just my attention?” He chuckled. “You’re as calm as a happy kitten now, aren’t you?” 

His stubble rubbed against your sensitive skin, and the friction burned a little but it was the kind of pain you kept wanting more of. You wanted more of him. 

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” You murmured, throwing your head back, moaning as he kept teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue. 

“Come for me, wife.” His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud. 

You couldn’t even hold on for much longer, and ended up coming undone all over his tongue. Heart racing, legs trembling in his grip as you came. Your moans were soft and incessant. 

Fuck… that felt amazing. 

You had barely gotten your heart to stop racing, and Bucky was already standing up and in the dark you couldn’t see very well but it did look like he was moving away from the bed. 

“You’re leaving?” You asked, unable to stop yourself from sounding a little upset at his departure. 

All he said was, “Good night, wife. See you tomorrow.” 

You scoffed after he shut the door behind him, leaving you in darkness yet again. “Ghost.” 

— 

That night ended up being the first of many. 

Your days consisted of painting, and finally finding a flow in most of your pieces. Perhaps if you’re able to make a decent collection, you could start thinking about the exhibition seriously, you thought. When you weren’t painting you were either training your rapidly growing puppy, or baking. You’d begun taking your puppy out for walks around the mansion, consequently doing some more exploring of the grounds. 

After all that, each night you’d get in bed and wait for Bucky. It became part of your routine. And each night with him was different. He’d spend his time touching you slowly until you were purring for him like a kitten. Kissing you all over your body in the dark. Making you come all over his tongue and fingers. Kissing you until you moaned and pulled him closer just to feel his weight pressing down on you. 

But he would always leave after making you come. And you two never actually fucked. Neither would he let you make him come. 

On nights when he wouldn’t make it home, you’d worry yourself to sleep. But then each morning you’d find a note from him either in your studio or the breakfast table. He would always say some cheesy shit. And he would always promise to come see you later that night. 

On nights when you two didn’t engage in anything sexual, it was still just as fulfilling. Bucky would tell you things about his work, his past, his family. You learnt that he was over a decade older than you, and teased him about being an old man until he pinned you to the bed and tickled you until you couldn’t breathe. 

You learnt that he liked to keep to himself and stay as far away from his family as possible. He liked peace and quiet, which would explain his lovely home being here away from most people. 

The more you learned about him, the easier it was to grow fond of him. But the more you grew fond of him, the greedier you got. You wanted more. More of his time, his touch, his attention, and most of all, you wanted to see him. 

The mystery, while hot as fuck, was killing you. 

—

One night, things changed. 

Bucky came into your room as usual. He’d gotten bolder lately, he wouldn’t sit in the corner like a ghost anymore, instead he would find his way to your bed and only leave that bed after making you come hard. 

Tonight started out the same way.  

You felt his hands all over you as he pulled you closer to him under the covers. You giggled as he bit and licked that one sensitive spot on your neck. Your fingers had a habit of finding themselves in his hair. It was insane how easily you’d gotten used to being with him in the dark. How easily you could find his mouth with your own. How easily you’d find your way into his arms. 

It was weirdly comforting. His warmth, his voice, his touch. 

“Tell me about your day,” He murmured, kissing your neck while his hands grabbed you and caressed you wherever he could reach. 

You squealed when you felt his metal fingers wandering dangerously close to your clit. Then said, “It went pretty well. I went out to buy some supplies, made a new friend at the store, I went to see my father but he wasn’t home. I took our dog for a walk, I painted…,” You gasped when his mouth trailed down till he took a nipple into his warm mouth, while he slid two fingers inside you gently. “Oh fuck…” You whined. 

He kissed his way up to your mouth again and said, “You sound so good when you moan for me, wife.” His lips brushed against yours. 

He was so close. And it was dark. And you wanted so desperately to see him. 

He moved his fingers expertly in and out of you. Making sure to brush against your most sensitive spots each time, turning you into a whimpering mess under him. He gave you a gentle kiss, swallowing your moans as he brought you closer to the edge. 

You whimpered and whined, then in the moment you just blurted out, “Can I please see you now?” 

Bucky stopped. He pulled away from you, making you whimper again as he got up and got out of your bed. 

In the dark it took a while for you to figure out where he was, whether he was still nearby or already making his way out the door. But he was here, standing near the bed. 

“We talked about this.” He said, sounding grave and disappointed. 

“But it’s been so long.” You argued. “I trust you.” 

He let out a loud exhale and said, “Then trust me when I say, it’s better this way.” 

You let out a sigh. “You can’t keep me in the dark forever, Bucky. Literally!” 

“Yes I can. I will.” He said arrogantly. That tone of his bothered you. “It’s better this way.” He repeated, but it sounded a lot like he was trying to convince himself instead of you. 

“Oh screw you!” You said with enough bitterness to make a grown man flinch. “If you won’t let me see you then stop coming into my bedroom. I don’t want to see you unless you agree to let go of this weird persona.” 

“Fine.” 

—

That night was the last time you heard from Bucky. 

He didn’t come home the following day. Nor the one after that. 

And no one knew where he went. 

You could tell something was wrong when you began noticing that the guards were talking in hushed voices whenever you were around. You noticed that the amount of security around the house doubled. That’s when you began to worry. 

By the third night, the entire house was filled with this almost tangible tension, worry, and fear. The house staff wouldn’t talk to you as much. The guards were always in and out of the house. The head of security advised you to not wander too far away from the house while you roam the grounds. 

You noticed the guards would follow you whenever you left the property. Be it when you left to visit your father at your old house or when you went out to buy supplies. 

Then you worried some more. But no one had answers to your questions. Nobody knew where he went. Whether he’s away for an assignment or if he’s simply choosing to be away from home. 

You tried your hardest to pretend that you didn’t care. You were still a little angry. After all, why couldn’t you see what he looked like? You’d spend so much time with him in the dark, running your hands all over him, tracing the outline of his facial features, he never had an issue with that. But why couldn’t you see him? 

You were angry, but also very much worried by the fourth day. You missed him, you realised. He had become such a habit, such a constant in your days. His sarcastic humour, his gentle hands, his comforting embrace, the way he left you notes in the morning, the way he took your art seriously. 

Fuck. You sat up in bed one night, patting ‘his’ side of the bed softly. You missed him. Badly. You felt a pinch inside your chest which you had never felt before. It hurt. You wanted him home. You admitted to yourself with a painful sigh. 

“Where are you?” You whispered, looking at the dark corner of your bedroom where he used to sit in silence like a ghost. “It’s okay if you want to stay in the dark forever.” You looked around the dark room which now without him seemed so much bigger and empty, “Just come home.” 

—

The next morning, as you half-heartedly approached the kitchen, you overheard something. And quickly realised you shouldn’t have heard it. It was the two ladies talking in hushed tones, the ones who usually served you your meals and often kept you company while you baked. 

“...cannot tell her, she’ll be heartbroken.” One of them said gravely. 

Sudden panic made your body freeze. You pressed your back against the nearest wall to keep yourself hidden while you processed those cryptic words. No, no, no. Is he hurt? Do they know something you don’t? 

The other replied, “But she deserves to know. Even if it’s not confirmed yet. I mean, do you see how she smiles when she reads his notes? Clearly she had grown to care for him. She needs to know.” 

The other argued, “I know, but I cannot imagine how hurt she will be when she hears about the rumours that her own father kidnapped her husband due to some past rivalry which was supposedly laid to rest after their wedding.” 

“They’ve been looking for him for days now. It’s been too long, he should’ve been found by now.” 

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! 

No. This cannot be happening. 

You carefully walked away from the kitchen. Thinking, processing, analysing. 

If your father did it, it must’ve been for some shitty, arrogant reason. He probably just wanted to rub it in Bucky’s family’s face that he could still eliminate his biggest threat if he wanted to. To show that he could still get rid of them by holding their most precious weapon hostage. To toy with them by making them wait in anticipation. Your father had done it before. Not with Bucky, but other people. He usually never asked for ransom but he liked having his rivals beg him for mercy. 

Shit. He’s had Bucky for days now. 

You moved without thinking twice about it. For some reason, your brain knew exactly what to do even though your heart was still bothered by a multitude of emotions. It felt like you were on autopilot. 

You rushed into Bucky’s office and grabbed a handgun from his desk drawer, checked if it was loaded. It was. You knew Bucky kept it there for safety, he had told you that one time when you two were in bed together. 

You let out a frustrated sigh, then felt movement around your ankles. You looked down at your puppy and gave her a sad smile as you bent down to pet her. “I’m gonna go find daddy, okay? I’ll be home soon.” You left her with a kiss. 

You rushed back downstairs and found a group of armed guards in the foyer near the front door. You didn’t have the time to explain it all to them, especially since you were driven by a gut feeling. Instead you asked, “Do you guys have a way of tracking my phone, or my car?” 

One of them nodded. The rest frowned in confusion. 

You tried to keep your calm as much as you could even though your heart was racing. “Okay, I’m gonna go to my father’s house. Don’t follow me yet, but I need some of you to come find me as soon as I begin driving away from there.” 

Surprisingly, they just nodded and let you go. 

The whole time you drove to your father’s house, it felt you were constantly having to force yourself to keep calm. After four days of having no idea where he was, and now as all the puzzle pieces fit together, it was hard to remain calm. You just wanted to get to him. 

And while you drove, unanswered questions tormented you. 

Was he hurt? Where was he being kept? Was he beaten up? Was he even conscious? Would this end badly? How far would your father take this? Would he hurt him? 

Before you knew it, you were entering your father’s property. The guards let you in like they always did. You had to take a minute to breathe in your car before stepping out and going inside your old home. 

Luckily your father was home. 

You walked in and stopped in the middle of the foyer as you saw him making his way down the stairs. He slowed down when he noticed the glare you sent his way. And when he stopped in the middle of the grand staircase, with you still glaring at him, the guards who were scattered around the entrance noticed. You caught the way they silently got closer and closer, slowly reaching for their guns. 

Good thing you’d brought your own. 

The guards, as well as your father, froze in place the moment you pulled out Bucky’s gun and pointed it at the man responsible for all of this shit. No one made a single sound. No guard moved to even try to disarm you. 

You looked at your hand, which was surprisingly steady as it held the gun. And there, on the side of the shiny metal, you spotted Bucky’s initials. Your heart throbbed in a painful way, but you refused to be emotional right now, even though you needed a good cry after having bottled up your feelings for the last few days. 

You glared at your father, who was still shocked, and asked in a cold tone you’d never used before, “Where’s my husband?” 

Your father frowned. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

You repeated, “Where is he?” 

Your father scoffed, “You’ll shoot your own father? Is this how I raised you?” 

“And you’ll kidnap your own son-in-law? For what? To show that you’re still the shit?” You questioned in a slightly raised voice. 

He sighed like he was disappointed, “You don’t know what–,” 

You cut him off. “We had a deal, right? That these petty attacks would stop after the wedding? That’s why I got married, isn’t it? Because we’re supposed to keep family safe?” 

He was quiet for a moment. Then began talking again, “If I could just get them to–,” 

“Enough!” You sounded just as tired of his bullshit as you were. “Whatever plan you have, just stop!” Then it came spilling out of your mouth, “You were supposed to protect me. All of us,” You said, referring to your older siblings, “Instead you married each of us off in exchange for whatever or whoever was going to benefit you more.” 

He argued, “If this works, you can come back home. Don’t you want that?” 

“No,” You said, and realised you meant it. “This was never home.” You admitted. “He treats me better than my own family ever did. He doesn’t tell me that my art is a waste of time. He doesn’t keep me imprisoned inside his home. He doesn’t choose who I should mingle with and who I shouldn’t. He doesn’t force me to join family businesses because it’ll be good for his image.” You taunted your father. “And he’ll never sell me to the highest bidder.” 

Your father made a sound like he was disgusted. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with him?” 

You remained quiet. I care for him, you wanted to say, deeply. But that would be lying, wouldn’t it? Truth was… you did fall for him. His calm voice. His gentle but playful demeanour. His dark humour. His brilliant mind and sharp tongue, always ready to argue and debate. His gentle touch… you loved him. 

“What I do and who I care for is none of your concern anymore.” You concluded, stepping forward and keeping the gun aimed at his face. “Now, where is my husband?” 

The smirk on your father’s face was maddening. “You’ll never find him,” He said. “I’ve hidden him well.” He added.  

You gave him a smirk as well. One which mirrored his. 

“Oh don’t make me do this.” You cooed. “Did you forget all those times you got drunk and confessed all the bad things you did?” You began listing, “All those times you spilled all your little secrets. About our family businesses, about your allies, the lies and betrayal. The bodies that are buried on this very property. The skeletons in your closet.” You gave him a sick, sweet smile. “Imagine if all that information just magically ends up in the ears of your rivals, dad. Imagine the carnage.” 

His smirk disappeared. “You would betray me by siding with them?” He asked in disbelief. 

You were getting tired of this. So you lowered your gun and said, “I am one of them.” 

You walked out without a single glance back at your father, but you could tell he had his jaws clenched in anger. He hated being outsmarted. But his mistake was underestimating you. 

And as for Bucky’s location, well your father gave it away when he said ‘I’ve hidden him well.’ 

There was only one place he believed you knew nothing about since at the time that he told you about it, he was drunk out of his mind as he confessed more of his crimes: the rundown warehouse which he used as a hideout/storage for weapons and arms. 

Your father had always referred to Bucky being a ‘weapon’ so it was only fitting that he would think to hide him there. Thinking no one would find him. 

But you would. 

As you drove to the warehouse, you hoped that the guards were tracking you as you had instructed them to. Because if Bucky was truly there, there was a high chance that there would be some guards, and that Bucky must be injured. And you’d need help getting him out of there. 

Driving to the warehouse, you had silent tears streaming down your face. Not just out of sadness, but also frustration. Fuck, what had your life become? 

The warehouse was a disaster, you realised as you approached it. Large, crumbling, windows boarded up with rotting wood, broken machinery scattered around the outside. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades. And it was exactly the type of structure no one would bother to look twice at. The perfect place to hide illegal things, and son-in-laws you hate. 

There weren’t as many guards as you expected. Which would mean that Bucky was either chained and locked up like an animal, or that he was injured to the point where he was too weak to fight his way out of here. 

Or both. 

You shivered as you got out of your car. The few guards who were around noticed you and one of them began walking faster towards you the more you got closer to the entrance. 

“Miss, you can’t be here. Your father explicitly said no one is allowed–,” 

You scoffed and said, “Oh, I know what he said.” You kept walking. “What will you do? Shoot me?” 

“Miss,” He tried again, “I can’t let you–,” 

You turned towards him and placed the barrel of Bucky’s gun right under the guard’s chin. “You were saying?” 

Then you heard it. A fleet of cars approaching. The guards heard it too. You heard them yelling at one another while the one in front of you remained frozen in place. You smirked at him and said, “Now go play with them.” 

You had just enough time to duck and run inside before the gunshots began. You didn’t stop. The interior of the warehouse was just as dilapidated as the outside, and by the sound of it, there were quite some guards on the roof. Their heavy footsteps as they ran to duck and try to escape the bullets raining down on them echoed inside the empty warehouse. 

It was fairly easy to spot Bucky. But fuck was it painful to see him that way. 

He was chained to the wall, shackles around his wrists and ankles. His body slumped on the ground, his breaths ragged. You could tell he was tired. Perhaps tired of fighting against the chains. You couldn’t hold back your soft sob as you ran to him. 

They had left his muzzle-like mask on him, covering the lower half of his face. The leather jacket and gloves he wore were covered in blood and dirt. A lot of blood. You knelt down in front of him and that’s when you noticed the bullet wound on his thigh. It looked fresh. 

“Bucky?” You called, reaching a hand to touch his face. He was cold to the touch, but stirred at the sound of your voice. “Bucky, come on. Wake up. Please.” You sniffled and inched closer to him, “I’m here, I’m gonna get us out of here, okay?” 

He let out a weak cough. You could barely hear it over the sound of the gunshots outside. 

“Bucky,” You tried to get the chains and shackles off of him, “Come on, wake up. We need to go home.” Your own voice cracked as you felt the silent tears streaming down your face as you were unable to get the shackles off. “Please,” You begged. 

Then as the gunshots outside faded away, you heard Bucky’s faint voice saying, “Use the gun.” 

You turned to face him. “What?” 

He spoke again, his voice raspier than usual and sounding muffled due to the mask. “Shoot at the chains.” 

Your hands trembled just a little as you reached for the gun you had brought. His gun. And you said, “Okay, don’t move.” 

You did. And only missed twice. 

Breaking the chains left the shackles still around his wrists and ankles but that could be dealt with later. You were panicking, wondering how you’d get him out of here but the guards barged in just in time. And you let out a sigh of relief when they ran straight to Bucky and carefully picked him up. 

As a couple of them managed to get Bucky in the backseat of your car, one of them let you know that there was a doctor and his assistants already waiting at home to tend to Bucky. Another one asked you what to do regarding the warehouse. 

“Burn it.” You told him. “I’ll deal with my father later, right now we need to get Bucky home.” 

On the drive home, Bucky kept trying to talk. But he was so weak he could barely get full sentences out. 

“Weren’t you mad at me?” He asked.

You sniffled and said refused to answer that. Instead you said, “Try not to talk. You’ve been shot, we don’t know how much blood you’ve lost,” You rambled. “Let’s get you to the doctor, okay?”  

“S’okay,” He mumbled, “It went through.” 

That only hurt more. “Bucky please, you need to save energy, okay? We’re almost home.” 

“They… shot me with my own gun.” He refused to keep quiet. 

At first you thought his brain was being delirious and making him ramble. Because of the pain, exhaustion, thirst, hunger. But then a weak sound left his mouth. Still muffled by the mask because no one removed it, and it sounded a lot like a very weak, faint laugh. 

“Eros got pierced by his own arrow after all.” He mumbled. 

You held back a sob. Then muttered, “I hate you so much, Bucky Barnes.” 

Another weak laugh. “No, you don’t, wife.” 

Then he passed out cold. 

— 

The next few days which followed Bucky’s rescue went by so fast and so painfully. The medical team kept close watch on him for days. Bucky was in and out of consciousness a lot. All the meds and the exhaustion kept him constantly out cold. 

The nurses and the house staff were constantly around him. But for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to go into his room. Not yet. You’d linger near the door and the doctors and the staff would constantly update you about his condition, but you never went in. 

Mainly it was because of shame. At what your father had done to him. But also you were still making peace with and processing your own emotions and you couldn’t face him until you were fully ready. What was important was that he was rescued and safe in his home. 

About a week later, the medical team finally left. And promised they would do frequent check ups and told you that Bucky needed a lot of rest. 

And that night, you managed to find the courage to finally step inside Bucky’s bedroom. It was a lot like yours, just larger. The room was dark when you walked in. But the open curtains allowed some light in from the outside. 

Okay. You spoke to yourself as you approached Bucky’s bed. It’s high time you find out who you married. 

Your hands shook a little as you reached for the dim lamp on his bedside table. But you turned it on quickly before you could talk yourself out of it. 

The golden light illuminated the room partly, and there he was. A little bruised, with a cut on his lip. His handsome face made you smile and tear up at the same time. You couldn’t hold back from reaching to touch his face softly, carefully. You ran your knuckles along his cheek and whispered, “There you are, ghost.” 

He stirred. And soon, a pair of sparkling blue eyes look up at you. For a moment you panicked, wondering if he would be upset. But instead he said, “This is cheating.” 

You let out a soft laugh and asked, “How are you feeling? You’ve been asleep for days.” 

“I feel like beating your father up.” He mumbled. 

“Oh, same.” You agreed. Then added, “I’m so sorry for what he did to you.” 

Over the past few days, the guards had gathered what had truly happened the day Bucky went missing. Turns out, he did leave for an assignment but your father and his men had been keeping a close eye on him for days, and since the wedding was supposed to have ended all rivalry, Bucky had his guard down as he entered your father’s territory. And your father had the upper hand for once and took advantage of it. Bucky was cornered, outnumbered and taken. He was kept in that warehouse up until you found him. 

“Don’t be,” Bucky whispered, reaching for your hand on your lap. He gave your hand a soft squeeze and said, “You saved me.” 

You couldn’t look away from Bucky. It felt so intimate to finally be able to see his face. Then rather sheepishly, you asked, “Can I sleep here? I’ll be careful.” He was still injured and in pain, but you just wanted to be close to him. You needed to. 

He smirked, “Come on.” You walked to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers, keeping some distance between you and him. He turned to look at you and said, “Want me to leave the light on?” 

You nodded. And he did. 

— 

A lot changed after that. 

Bucky was healing from his injury and was starting to walk again. Which meant that he was home a lot. He did ‘work’ but it mainly consisted of him ordering people around on the phone. 

Him being at home meant that he followed you around as much as he physically could. He would spend time in your studio, sometimes he’d stay for hours and watch you finish your pieces. He also spent a lot more time with your dog, taking her on short walks and teaching her new tricks. 

He’d stay with you in the kitchen while you baked. He’d go with you whenever you went shopping for supplies. Bucky became your shadow. And consequently, spending this much together made you feel closer than ever to him. 

He became your best friend. 

He also became a lot more… bold. 

—

One night Bucky found you in his bathroom. After that night when you first slept in his bed, you hadn’t gone back to your bedroom. So now, most of your things slowly found their way into his space. Like your night time skin care products. 

Bucky crept up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. 

You met his eyes through the mirror and gave him a smile. “Your limp is nearly gone.” You announced, noticing the way he walked was so much better now. 

He gave you a look which meant nothing but mischief, “And you know what that means?” 

You could already tell where this was going. You immediately turned him down. “Bucky, we cannot. You’re still injured.” 

“But it’s been weeks.” He said it like it was the ultimate torture. “Don’t you miss those nights we spent together? Hmm?” He whispered, leaning in to kiss your neck. He knew it was one of your weaknesses. “Remember how good it feels when I make you come?” 

You sighed, letting him kiss you and hold you for a moment. “Buck… you’re still healing.” 

“Come on, baby,” He cooed, nuzzling your neck, “I’ll make it so good. I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts.” 

You almost gave in the moment he playfully bit your neck, his hands finding the belt of your robe and shamelessly undoing it before sliding in to touch your warm skin. “But,” You tried to find something even though all you wanted was to drag him to bed, “Your stitches…” Your words ended in a soft moan as his metal fingers found their way in between your legs, circling around your clit. 

Bucky growled. Growled. Then said, “Fine, you get to be on top then.” 

You froze, and let out a nervous chuckle. “But I…,” You opened your eyes and met his through the mirror. “I–,” 

“Shh, it’s okay.” He reassured you, remembering the time you told him you’d never done anything with anyone before. “I know.” He gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll teach you.” 

And he did. Patiently. 

He took his time in undressing both of you and held your hand in his as he laid down and pulled you on top of him. 

“I’m scared I’ll hurt you.” You murmured. 

He gave you a reassuring smile. “You won’t, baby. Now come on.” 

He watched as you carefully straddled him, settling comfortably around his waist. One hand holding his metal one tightly while the other remained splayed over his chest. 

Bucky looked up at you with nothing but adoration and lust as he tugged on your hand, pulling you in for a kiss. You leaned down gently and pressed your mouth to his. His warm hand immediately rubbed up and down your side lovingly. He pulled away just a little and whispered against your mouth, “We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with, okay?” 

You nodded, already breathless. 

“Tell me, baby. What do you want?” 

You told him the one thing you desperately wanted. “I want to touch you.” 

Bucky smirked and supported his upper body up on his elbows, with you still straddling his waist, your core pressing down on his crotch. “Go on then, touch me.” He murmured. 

He watched you intently as you reached out and touched his face first. Bucky’s heart was racing, you could tell by the way he breathed, as your finger slowly trailed down his face, along his neck and down till his abs, so slowly that you could feel his muscles tensing underneath your touch. 

You gave him a teasing smile when you noticed the effect you have on him, and how he couldn’t help but stare at your naked body. 

“Don’t tease me,” He mumbled. 

You chuckled and leaned in to give him a brief kiss before hesitantly wrapping your hand around his cock. Part of the reason why you kissed him while doing it was because you were worried about your lack of experience, so you did it to distract him. 

But he caught it. And wrapped his own hand around yours, making you grip him tighter. You pulled away from the kiss and looked into his pretty eyes. Bucky was breathing heavily. You let his hand guide you as you gave him an experimental stroke, a gentle up and down movement. 

He felt thick and hard, and big. You looked down for a quick minute as you let him continue guiding your hand, lazily stroking his cock, up and down. Your thumb rubbed his tip slowly, making him groan as you looked back up at him and kissed your way down his neck, around the base of his throat, making him gasp in pleasure. 

“See?” He whispered, “You’re learning already.” He said as he slowly let go of your hand and let you touch him on your own. 

You continued exploring this new feeling. He was completely fine with just being there and letting you take your time. And you did take your time, touching him everywhere you could, stroking him as slowly or as quickly as you wanted to. Until he was so close to the edge, eyes rolled to the back of his head, lips parted and occasional moans escaping his open mouth as  pre cum started dripping down his cock. 

Oh he was a sight to behold. But you were getting impatient, and you wanted him in you as soon as possible. So you stopped, earning a groan from him. 

“I want you,” You said. 

Bucky looked like he was barely able to hold back either. “Come on,” He held your hand again, pulled you in for a quick kiss as you straddled him properly. His hand reached down and aligned the tip of his cock to your hole, teasing you with it by sliding it up and down your slit a few times until you were whimpering. “Now sit on it baby come on,” He encouraged you as you began sinking down on him, gasping as his cock stretched you out. “You can do it.” He murmured, breathless as he watched his cock disappear inside you more and more. “That's it. All the way down, come on baby.” 

You were a moaning mess by the time you sunk all the way down, impaling yourself down on his cock. Fuck. You had never felt so full before. So fucking full. 

“You okay, baby?” He asked, holding you by your hips, moving you back and forth just a little bit to create some friction. 

You nodded, moaning at the slight movement. 

“Want me to help you move?” He asked, lips parted and he had that wild look in his eyes.

Fuck, he was beautiful. 

“Yes, please,” You whined, placing your hands on his chest to brace yourself for what was coming. 

He wasted no time. Bucky grabbed you by the hips and helped you move up and down his cock. Your wet warmth wrapped all around him, making him swear under his breath and groan at how good you felt. 

You couldn’t look away from his ocean blue eyes while you rocked your hips against his. You moved against him perfectly, your walls gripping him tightly and feeling him twitch inside you. 

“Look at you.” He cooed. “Look how well you're taking it.” 

You couldn’t help but lean in to kiss his open mouth. He was so perfect. He was everything you had ever dreamt of, you realised. 

His metal fingers moved to touch your clit while you rode his cock, teasing you and bringing you closer to that edge. It wouldn’t take much. You were so overwhelmed already. 

“Bucky…��� You whined, dragging your hands down and pressing both your palms against his toned abdomen, carefully avoiding touching him around his thigh area, where he was shot. 

Bucky watched you, your breasts bouncing gently, lips parted, softly gasping as you got so, so close to the edge. 

And he knew. So he quickened his pace, still moving you up and down his cock while he rubbed your throbbing clit. 

“Baby, I’m gonna need you to come for me, okay?” His voice was low, barely even a whisper. His desperation was quite clear. He began to thrust his hips up even harder, matching your movements.

The air around you got hotter, and that look in his eyes made you want to live in this moment forever. Bucky was the most beautiful mess you’d ever seen. A sweaty, moaning mess under you, messy hair, swollen lips, and a throbbing cock. 

You were sure you looked like a mess too as you felt your walls clench around him, gripping him and milking him perfectly. 

“Come for me,” He whispered, “Come on, baby.” 

You came without a warning, crying out loud and impaling yourself down on him one last time as you did. Bucky thrust up into you one last time and came undone as well, both of you breathing hard and fast. 

You carefully got up from his lap and laid down beside him, body limp and slightly sore in between your legs. 

You were still catching your breath as you asked, “Did I hurt you?” You sounded just as worried as you were. 

Bucky chuckled. “I should be the one asking you that.” 

You smiled and snuggled into his side, he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer. 

“I’m fine, baby.” He said and kissed your forehead. 

You both laid there in silence for a while. 

Cuddling and relishing each other’s warmth, caressing each other’s skin. 

You felt his fingers drawing random shapes on your back as you laid your head on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeats against your cheek. You felt the need to ask him, “Why were you so against showing yourself to me?” 

He gave you a soft chuckle. “You just can’t let that go, huh?” 

“Nope.” 

He sighed, pulling you closer. “I was… afraid.” 

You frowned. “Afraid of what?” You pulled away and looked up at him. “Why did you hide this pretty face from me?” You gave him a quick kiss on his chest as you waited for his answer. 

He sighed again. “Everywhere I go, I… whenever people see me up close, it’s already too late. They don’t see a human anymore, they see death staring back at them.” He paused. You remained quiet. He continued. “I see it, you know? In their eyes. When they look at me and plead, or beg, or curse me.” A humourless laugh, then, “After some years of that, I began seeing it in the mirror as well. I saw the same thing they see. After years of brutality, and killing, and spilling blood,” A soft chuckle, “Years of being an evil Eros as you call it, I grew to hate my face.” 

You felt tears forming at your waterline but you couldn’t look away from him. Not when he was being so brave and vulnerable. 

He continued. “And then before our wedding, I looked you up.” He confessed, a little embarrassed. “And you were so beautiful.” He looked you right in the eyes and repeated, “You are so beautiful. I guess, I didn’t want you to look at me and see death, and ugly and all the other dark stuff. I didn’t want to see that look in your eyes, the same one I see in everyone. That look of fear and disgust.” He finally admitted, “So I thought, I’d just hide and be a ghost.” 

“My ghost.” You corrected him, reaching out to cup his chin in your palm. “And I’m gonna need you to never stop haunting me.” You said, leaning in to leave a soft kiss on his lips. “I want you to always be in the shadows. Be with me, even in the dark.” You gave him a smile. “I look at you now and you know what I see? I see a man who treated me with respect. A man who wouldn’t touch me unless I asked for it. A man who gave me so much space for my creativity.” A faint smile, then you added, “You made me fall in love with art all over again, and now everything I paint, I paint with you in my mind.” 

He gave you a smile which both broke and mended your heart. 

“Oh Buck,” You cupped his gorgeous face with both hands and said, “You’re not death, or scary, or any other dark shit. You’re mine, and I love you.” 

He pulled you in for a kiss so quickly you barely processed it. “And I love you.” 

You giggled into the kiss and only pulled away when you were breathless. You kissed your way down his chin and nuzzled his neck, sighing in delight. 

Bucky said, “I think I should retire.” 

“Hmm,” You asked, “And what would you do in retirement?” 

“Watch you paint, raise our dog, adopt some more animals, attend your art exhibitions, and eventually make some babies with you.” He listed it all so easily. 

“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed.