#I still don't understand what I did to deserve the silence

[nyantry]

Dmitry looked up at the rain, suddenly yanked out of that dreamlike haze by the drops hitting his face so suddenly. He did not wake up, though. Not yet, not now. He was still in that realm with Death, in a space between, even if time had now resumed its usual course. Samael was powerful, but even Dmitry knew that Death had no say over time. Not really. Not beyond ordained moments, spelled out second by second in God's great design. He did not hold any hard feelings toward Samael over it, even if that space of timelessness was well-wanted.

He looked back to Sammy as the archangel continued speaking. He reached out instinctively to touch the scythe, not doing so only because he thought better of it when he saw his own hand in the air. He knew better than to intrude like that, curiosity-bitten as he always was.

He sat on the sandy ground below, taking in the words that Samael was saying to him. In the words of the great Marty McFly, this was heavy. There was Samael, echoing something Nico had pointed out forever ago. He wasn't close to death. He wasn't burdened by it, either. It was what drove his purpose. Nico had seen that, and though it had taken a long time, Dmitry had sort of grasped that Nico had meant this. Why did it keep escaping him, then? Why did he keep forgetting? Maybe that was it? Maybe that was the point? To keep his intentions pure, or something? He couldn't possibly pretend to fathom knowing the answer.

God's wrath, though? That, he could not understand. He didn't really think of himself as wrathful, let alone divinely so. He just had that insatiable drive to do something, to not sit and watch while people suffered, to not just be on the sidelines when he had the means to help. He couldn't just watch. He was angry, yes. But he could not comprehend being afforded divinity, and he understood even less the idea that his purpose revolved around it. He'd have to sit with that for a lot longer than this conversation could last.

But guardian, this he could accept. He thought of himself as Nico's guardian angel too. Every person has one, Nico included, and he hadn't seen any other angels near Nico. No, it was his own duty; he had to watch over Nico. He never talked about that to Nico; it didn't seem necessary. But Dmitry did, suddenly, remember that he had accepted this charge previously in Samael's presence. By its very nature, that conversation, and likely this one, and any number of other conversations between worlds, were not for him to remember. There could be nothing to obstruct, nothing to impede, nothing to hinder. What he didn't have to know, he wouldn't remember. It was a grace to be afforded that; it made things simpler, tumultuous as it was not knowing.

He took Samael's warning to heart, though. It was no light caution, not coming from that angel in particular. Dmitry lifted his gaze to meet Death's flames for eyes sitting in a skull devoid of flesh. "I know. I don't say this lightly: I feel it in my very soul, it's him. He needs me."

Aftr a moment of silence and more thought, he spoke once more. This time it was quiet, vulnerable. It was a topic he'd never really talked about with Samael himself, not since it had happened.

"The first time I died, were you there? Before, I mean. Were you watching? I remember it was cold. I don't think I could have chosen differently. I've never talked to Nico about it and... this time, I want to know what you think. I feel like I should, maybe I should tell him? He doesn't ask me certain things and I think it's because he knows I find it difficult to talk about, but this... I feel he deserves to know. Do you think I should tell him?"

"Your nose clouds vision."

"You forget your purpose."

He basically told Dmitry he couldn't see passed the end of his nose and the answer was just as plain as the nose on his face in Death-speak.

He turned the hourglass fast and hard back as it should be and in that one move rain poured in the gravity's shift back to normalcy like a wake up call.

"You never belong where you don't stand, or you'd be moved." He held up his scythe in reasonable explanation.

The little monologuer was over-thinking considering he was discussing this with such a neutral party. He wasn't the Angel of Forgiveness. He wasn't the Angel of Mercy. He was that of all things masculine and war and a psychopomp of death. Where he guided those souls were not his to judge.

But what did he mean by Dmitry was forgetting his purpose? Dmitry clearly thought he was on his own path. Still Samael knew angels and there were those of seraphim, the cherubs, the thrones, virtues, dominions, powers, principalities, archangels, guardian angels etc... Everyone had a place, a job, a space, something they rules over. Some had celestial jobs. Others fought evils. Some were closer to the human race than others.

Samael didn't have to be there with Dmitry and God the day they made their agreement to see what was happening. The great He gave Dmitry an earthly job. He was alive. He also fought evil.

"Have you ever considered you're not close to death? You idolize it. You've experienced it. You're not like me. Maybe close to dying sometimes. You're close to humanity at all times. You're alive. Every time. Every reincarnation you are blessed with a full life however you expend it. If you lost the deep connection with the humanity that drove you to death the first time you'd lose your drive for your purpose. You're blessed with unhealing to be human with mightier purposes. God's wrath."

Dmitry might disagree with him, but he'd not waiver. nor bicker. He also saw it all the time. People were so close to a situation they couldn't see beyond themselves. It was part of the human condition. Maybe Dmitry hadn't considered all that wrath wasn't all his own? Nor a human sin, but an angel's purpose as a conduit.

After Dmitry spoke of Nico, he repeated.

"God blessed you with the human condition for all your purposes. I have no doubt of that."

"If God assigned you one Niccolo to watch over as a guardian angel it's not your job to get him to Heaven. It's your job to protect him on whatever path he walks so he's never alone until the end of days. His free will is always his own."

The reason Nico began to believe Dmitry was his guardian angel wasn't just because it was a cute thing to say after hearing his avenging angel story. No. It was because of Aleister Crowley who wrote Magic Without Tears and who refers back to The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn mentions that holy guardian is an independent being, who may have been previously human. To Nico that meant Dmitry. He might not have been able to see it in the Bible, but he read it from occultists.

Then Samael had a fair warning because he himself already lived that life. He didn't care that Dmitry was given a human form. He himself had a human form. He was an angel. If he thought, he was human he was fooling himself. He was immortal. No human reincarnates without being reborn a baby again. He was an angel. He was deluded by his humanity so focused on his next death day it blurred his focus and that was okay. Samael believed Dmitry was probably supposed to be for the most part and would probably forget most of this or it would feel like a dream later anyway until the next time they met.

The fair warning was this. He thought of the woman he married. He remembered God ripping several of the wings right off his back as punishment for marrying a human. Other angels were mating, but Samael fell in love, had to give up his wife, repent, and welcomed back in Heaven. He was forgiven but given the job of being the keeper over the Grigori's Prison, the ones God did not forgive for breeding as an eternal punishment. So, as Death's jagged misshapen wings that hung from behind him drug along as they began to walk again, he said, "Because if he is not your assignment and you're off your path, He will catch up to you. I know."

Samael wasn't going to claim to know Dmitry's purpose other than it was clear to him he was an angel for humanity meant to feel deeply as them as kindred spirits. This is why he avenged.

[fragmentedblade]

Kalpas and Sakura are so hot together. Every interaction, every dialogue, even the absence, is so heavy and tense and juicy

[mrfoox]

I'm kinda glad I can keep my opinions to myself but man

[dawneternal]

now my head's splitting at the seams

✴︎ in the labyrinth of my pain, would you find me?

✴︎ Azriel x Valkyrie reader, platonic Cassian x reader

✴︎ Summary: you miss a few days of training, down with a bad migraine. It turns out Cassian has a few misconceptions about your condition and, possibly, about pain itself.

✴︎ Warnings: mentions of nausea and vomiting (no descriptions), pain, toxic positivity and ableism, internalized ableism, Cassian's a jerk in the first half. Also I'm so sorry for the tense changing back and forth 💀 I would definitely not call this one a masterpiece

✴︎ Word Count: 3.4k

AO3 Link / Writing Masterlist

✴︎ Notes: somehow writing out my feelings about having a migraine turned into something pretentious about pain and ableism. I think a lot about John Green's "pain is the opposite of language" and how much that's changed my perception of pain

Also listen I love Cassian and I have no problems with him but I had to pick someone to take my feelings out on I'm sorry 💛 also just want to acknowledge that everyone experiences migraines differently and it's not a topic I'm an expert on so I'm sorry if you don't feel well represented by this.

Tbh I could write several essays about the way pain and disability are handled in the acotar books but that's for another time.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you squeeze your eyes shut tighter and twist your knuckle into the pressure point at the base of your palm, chasing the momentary relief it'll give you from your nausea. It works for a minute, and you're considering making your way to the bathroom before another wave hits you when your bedroom door flies open.

"You're late," Cassian's voice bellows through the room and he doesn't see you wince. He strides into the room, footsteps booming across the floorboards, and he's left the door open behind him, letting a traitorous amount of light into your dark room. What good were black out curtains if your darkness was going to be invaded like this anyways?

"Oh my gods you've got to talk quieter," You curl tighter around yourself, head clutched in your hands.

"So you're hungover?" He stops near your bed, arms crossed as he towers over you.

"No, I have a migraine."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

You squint up at him, scowling, swallowing every bad word threatening to spill off your tongue. Though maybe he deserves it for coming into your room without asking.

"Please leave," You say quietly, all the venom you could usually imbue into your voice completely swallowed by your current condition.

"You've missed three days of training." He says by way of answering, definitely not following your request to lower his volume. "You can't coddle yourself like this."

His words punch the air from your lungs. Coddle? Something terrible is rising in your gut, along with the desperate thought that you can't deal with this right now.

"I'm not - this isn't - I don't think you understand how much it hurts." You scramble for words, cheeks heated from pain and anger.

"You've gotta push through it," He says, no hint of sympathy.

"Cassian please."

"I'm not leaving until you agree to come with me."

You don't have time to respond before you're running to the bathroom and throwing up whatever you'd managed to keep down last night, head throbbing with every movement.

Breathing hard, you lean back from the toilet and clutch your head in your hands. The silence rings in your ears and you aren't sure if Cassian is still there or if he finally took mercy on you and left, until his voice makes it's way to you, with just a hint of remorse in it -

"I'd better see you up there."

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Cassian did not see you at training that morning, and you're assuming you've bruised his ego because the next day he doubles down.

The thing is, Rhysand knew of your condition. The other priestesses knew. It's only Cassian being out of the loop and if he understood what a migraine felt like, you're certain he wouldn't be dragging you up there. You were used to dealing with people who didn't understand, had worked hard to learn how to give yourself kindness no matter what other people said. But it's like he knew exactly what things to say, what buttons to press to undo all of that progress.

It was like he'd pulled off your armor, piece by piece, leaving you cold and exposed. Going back to that world where weakness was your given name and it hurt worse than stepping into the ring and fighting the pain. If you could prove him wrong, just make it through a couple of hours, you could return to your sanctuary of darkness. And at least then, you wouldn't hate yourself on top of everything else.

So you followed him up to the training ring, struggling to open your eyes all the way in the morning light, hunched over to make the pain down your shoulders and neck just a bit more bearable. You sway on your feet, but Cassian either doesn't notice or doesn't care.

When he moves aside, revealing your small, huddled frame trailing beside him, Gwyn gasps.

"Cassian!" She cries, her tone scathing, and the hint of smug triumph slips from his face. It disappears completely as Gwyn rushes to your side, folding you into her arms to block your eyes from the light. You groan into her shoulder and go limp in her arms, grateful for the support.

Azriel stands to the side, watching with narrowed eyes. His arms are crossed over his chest like Cassian's, but there is no determination or judgment in his posture or expression. There's angry, crackling flames as he watches the redheaded Valkyrie thread her fingers through your hair and murmur soft comfort.

"She missed training all this week," Cassian says, but he's not barking any more. He's feeling a little bit small underneath the glares that pin him where he stands.

"Yeah, we know," Gwyn says, and it's the closest she's gotten to snapping at him in the whole time they've known each other. She turns to you and her eyes soften. "Let's get you back to bed, love."

"No," You murmur, guilt and shame bringing your resolve to the surface once more. You gently push her away to stand on your own, raising your squinted eyes to meet Cassian's. "I can do it. I'll be fine."

She watches you take shaky steps to the nearest mat and begin stretching, body obviously stiff from a few days in bed. You're conscious of all the eyes on you, far too sympathetic for your liking. This is exactly what you hated.

"Are we starting or not?" You let out a stiff laugh, too aware that your words are lightly slurred. That is absolutely not helping the hangover accusations.

The other priestesses shuffle to get into place, bumping into each other as they move to find their positions. There was still a horrible silence, crackling with fierce anger, all rippling in Cassian's direction. He halfheartedly called a few orders, visibly uncomfortable with the energy in the ring.

And you tried. You tried hard. To move your body through the stretches like normal. But your muscles protested every move, threatening to lock back up, sending stabs of pain through your skull. It didn't take long for the nausea to take over, forcing you to the edge of the ring, doubled over and dry heaving.

"This is ridiculous," Gwyn scoffs before she's at your side again. "You're going to back to bed."

"I will not be weak," You growl at her, panting as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "I am not lazy."

Gwyn's head snaps around to find Cassian, mouth dropped open in fury as she silently dares him to confirm that he may have suggested weakness to you.

"You're not and you know it," She says softly, hauling you up and leading you away from the training ring. “Don't do that to yourself.���

Cassian is feeling like he's surrounded by wolves, all the glares that are being sent his way. He understands by now that he's messed up, and in front of a group that may not be easily inclined to forgive him. He's sure every single one of them has experienced the disbelief that he foolishly shoved your way. For their pain, or for anything else.

He thought you would snap back to your normal self after a bit of warming up, shake off your symptoms with a bit of movement and sunshine. You were strong enough to, if you wanted to. He'd seen it before. He thought you just didn't want to.

A small, firm hand lands on his arm and he finds himself looking down at Nesta. There's sympathy in her expression, but her eyes twinkle with the threat of a nasty bite if he dares to say anything stupid.

"She gets them after particularly bad flashbacks," Nesta says, "Or sometimes they're just random. Madja says there's no fix for the pain but darkness and sleep."

Cassian's stomach twists so terribly he thinks he might puke, too. In the midst of attempting to instill resilience, he's understanding that he knows nothing of this kind of pain. This is something different, something that cannot be conquered in the same way as emotional pain, as every day aches and injuries. You are a soldier in a battle he has no strategy for.

He may understand the concept of emotional resilience, of getting back up and into the training ring when you don't want to. But this is different.

The final blow, the thing that makes him want to cower and hide, is meeting his brother's eyes. Seeing the fire there transports him back in time, sending flashes of a smaller Azriel pushing himself too hard, determined to show the world that he'd never be less because of the damage to his hands. Fighting against words far too similar to the ones his own brother had spouted to you this morning, desperate to become strong enough that no one would ever doubt his pain and live.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

It was not a surprise that Cassian found himself in Rhysand's office later, confessing how thoroughly he'd fucked up, desperate for a little direction in how to fix this mess.

"It has to be their choice," Rhysand is saying, eyes meeting Cassian's over his glass.

Cassian's mouth opens and closes as he tries to conjure a response. He knows that. Of course he knows that. But apparently, his brain had not wrapped around how far that concept might go.

Cassian let out a grunt as he sat back in his chair, arms crossed. Rhysand knew he didn't have to push any further, he recognized the conflict in his brother's eyes. So he sat with him, quiet, while he processed.

"Do you want to know what it feels like?" He broke the since after a while, as the idea came to him.

"What?" Cassian blinked, startled from his thoughts.

"A migraine," Rhys explained, "Do you want to know what it feels like?"

Cassian frowned, studying his brother's expression for anything resembling amusement, but there was none. So he nods.

Not even a full second later, his skull is attacked with throbbing pain, deep in the base of his neck. He hadn't even noticed the fae lights before, but now they overwhelm him, causing a dull pain to surface behind his eyes. Nausea curled up his throat, threatening ruthlessly.

"Oh gods," He leaned forward and clutched his head in his hands, finding that his limbs trembled under his own weight.

"Do you push yourself when you feel like this?" Rhysand asked softly, not taunting. Prompting.

"I don't really ever feel like this," Cassian grumbled out.

"Hm," Rhysand mused, his brows drawing together. He'd experienced episodes like these often, under the mountain. He knew that Azriel struggled with them through his teenage years, like his brain still struggled to process his senses outside of a dark cell.

Deep in thought, he only remembered to ease up on Cassian's mind when his brother whimpered.

"Some say pain cannot truly be described with language," Rhys says, gaze somewhere else as Cassian gulps down air. "And that your pain is one of the few things that is truly yours, that you can never share. Even if you manage to describe it, it will never be felt by anyone else."

"I thought she was just hungover," Cassian says, but he's not defending himself. Rhysand knows.

"What if she was, though?" He tilts his head to the side, watching his brother carefully.

And that is the thing that had begun to unfurl within Cassian as he stood surrounded by the priestesses he'd wronged. He understood that having true control of your body meant that dictating how pain is handled had to be yours, too. He understood that pushing someone to deal with pain in his own way was a violation in and of itself. He had stepped into the world that you had carefully balanced and re-built around your condition and dared to tell you that you may have done it wrong.

"Will she get better?" He asks, thinking of the agony he'd just experienced for a few short minutes. The same one that you'd been experiencing for three days, now.

"It's hard to say," Rhysand shrugs, "Madja says she will likely experience these off and on for the rest of her life, but she may have some periods of remission."

He tilts his head at his brother again, "You know that a majority of the priestesses have an invisible disability of similar kinds, right? They won't get better. They will be in pain every day until they die."

Rhysand sighs, thinking of the hundreds - possibly thousands - of tins of salve that Azriel has gone through, numbing the pain of his nerve damage. Trembling hands hidden in black gloves, tucked into his body and away from the world. And that is the reason he's bothering telling Cassian of any of this. Otherwise, he might let him figure it out on his own.

"But the healers-" Cassian begins.

"Are there to help them cope with their emotional pain and trauma," Rhysand nods, "But some of them, a lot of them, were disabled as a result of what they went through and will never get better. Like Clotho.”

Oh.

It clicks in Cassian's mind, then. Who else Rhys meant. Who else Cassian had insulted. He had never barged into Azriel's room, insisting that he still train even when he could not flex his fingers without wincing, without trembling too hard to hold a glass of water. But he'd done it to you, in front of him. And that pinned his disbelief on Azriel all the same.

Azriel's pain, your pain, were enemies that neither of you could defeat. And here he was, shoving a sword into your hands, and insisting that you try.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

A soft knock sounds against your door, so quiet you almost don't hear it. You stare at it, wondering if you should pretend that you didn't. But then the knob turns slowly and it opens just a crack, and a soft voice is saying into the darkness,

"Hey, it's Azriel. Can I come in?"

Your breath catches in your throat, and you watch his shadows dancing back and forth through the thin wedge of light he's letting in.

"Sure," You say, moving quickly to smooth your rumpled clothes and tangled hair before he steps in. You're not exactly sure what he thinks of you after this morning.

He steps inside and closes the door behind him. His eyes seem to glow in the darkness, an amber-honey color, and somehow you can still see his shadows, like they're even darker than your room with no light.

"I just wanted to check on you," He says, crouching down beside your bed so you don't have to sit up.

"I'm okay," You say, still getting over the surprise of the Shadowsinger in your space. It's true, though, you suppose. You're used to all of your other symptoms by now, and your heart hurts worse than your head.

"He's an idiot sometimes," Azriel says, basically spits. A smile begins to spread on your face so he continues, “Like, sometimes he's just an asshole, straight up. But this time, believe it or not, I think he actually meant well and was just an idiot.”

“I know,” You give him a sad smile and all of the anger melts from his face.

“I think he went to buy flowers if that makes you feel any better,” He sighs. You know he's just as mad at Cassian as you are, maybe even more mad. But he still can't help vouching for him. It's definitely going to take more than flowers to forgive him, but it's a good start. You also appreciate that Azriel has bothered to warn you ahead of time, in case you wanted to avoid Cassian's apology.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, so quietly. And you wonder who else has earned this tenderness from him.

“It's not too bad right now,” you say truthfully, though you know that sitting up or going outside might be pushing your luck.

“Still hurts?”

“Yeah. Still hurts.”

He nods. “I can try something that helps me, sometimes.”

You search his eyes for a moment, then nod.

“Can I touch your face?” He asks, almost a whisper.

Your heart leaps into your throat and you fight to keep your face neutral as you nod again, no idea what he's planning to do with you.

Slowly, leaving enough time for you to stop him, he reaches out. He's not wearing gloves, like usual, and in the dark you can just barely make out the uneven silhouette of his dimpled, scarred hands.

His fingers land gently on your forehead, and he presses his thumb between your brows. Gently at first, and then harder, circling a tender point under your skin. It makes the pain in your head sharper, and you let out a hiss.

“I know,” He says, “Bear with me a minute.”

You close your eyes, biting back a whimper, but after a moment the pain begins to ease. He keeps going for a few minutes and you feel your whole body relax, pain free for the first time in days.

You don't realize how much you've leaned into his touch until he gently pulls away and you find your head falling forward with him.

“What is that?” You open your eyes and blink at him.

“A pressure point,” He grins, and it almost looks like he's blushing.

“That's magical,” you say. You hesitate for a moment, and then, “you can sit on the bed if you want.”

Azriel smiles and straightens, and you move your pillow to the side to make space for him. He slides off his boots and sits on the bed next to you, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. You place your pillow next to his lap and settle back into it.

“Thank you,” You say, your body feeling lighter than it has in days.

“Of course,” he says.

A silence settles, but it's not uncomfortable. There's something in it that you understand. He's just keeping you company. Here to sit with you in your pain.

It's easy to relax in his presence, between his calm aura and the pain relief he's offered you. And you find yourself spilling the question that's been circling though your mind since this morning.

“What if I can't fight, someday? What if I can't be a Valkyrie anymore?”

Azriel stills beside you. It's a long moment before he says anything. You're tense beside him, and it makes you flinch when he brings his hand so gently to rest on your head. Not moving, just resting.

“First,” He says, in the same soft voice, “You'll always be a Valkyrie. Because you cut the ribbon. Because you sisters will never let you go. And because I know for a fact that the Valkyries did not strip their warriors of their title if they became disabled by an illness or an injury.”

“Really?” You breathe.

“Mhm,” He hums in affirmation. You forget sometimes that he knows the Valkyries from more than history books.

“And second,” His voice drops lower, like he's sharing a secret with you. His hand moves, fingers slipping gingerly through your hair. And it makes you realize that he came here with his hands uncovered as an offer of solidarity. Combing his scarred fingers through your hair, he is offering you vulnerability, like recompense for what you bared this morning. A trade. A truce.

“If you cannot fight,” He continues, “Then you will show the world that a formidable woman can be made from more than fighting skills. You will still be - will always be - something incredible.”

Tears prickle at your eyes, form a lump in your throat. You reach up to grasp his hand, the only thank you that you can manage in the moment, and he lets you.

There's another silence, as he holds your hand in the dark.

“Who helps you?” You ask, turning to look up at him. He watches your eyebrows knit together, so serious, and he swallows a smile.

“What do you mean?” He says.

You bring one finger up to tap the space between his own eyebrows.

“With your pain? Who helps you like you helped me?”

“Um,” He shrugs, “Sometimes Rhys if he has time. Otherwise, no one.”

That's what you thought, but it still makes your heart twist in your chest. It takes a deep breath before you have the courage to say the next words out loud.

“You should tell me next time you're in pain. And I'll help.”

Azriel stares back at you, something bewildered in his eyes. Because he sees your suggestion for what it is. The same thing he offered you. A trade. A truce.

A beginning.

“Yes,” He whispers into the dark, and his hand closes around yours. “I will.”

[winterarmyy]

He Hates Me, Doesn't He?

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: You hurt Bucky's girl, and now he hates you.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 6.7k++

Warnings: angstyyyyyyyyy, but with happy ending because I cannot live in agony. miscommunication galore. 'I want to strangle bucky's girlfriend.' soft reader, cold/mean bucky. bucky should've grovel more. horrible attempt of writing verbal arguments. nothing much but pain.

Inspiration: I remember reading a bucky fic years ago and I like the pain that it caused me to feel. Idk why the pain suddenly came back to me lately. So, this is my take on the same idea. I haven't able to find it. But when I do, I'll reblog it in my another acc!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

y/n had always been a steady presence in the Avengers, known for her gentle demeanour and unwavering support. Her relationship with Bucky Barnes had blossomed from a quiet friendship into something deeper. When they first met, Bucky was reserved and hesitant, still grappling with his past as the Winter Soldier. y/n, with her gentle nature and patient understanding, slowly helped him come out of his shell.

She remembered the sleepless nights they spent together when they were on the run with Steve and Sam. They'd share stories, and sometimes just sit in silence, her quiet company offering solace to Bucky's restless mind. The unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day. Bucky looked up to her, finding comfort in her presence, and in turn, he became fiercely protective of her. They'd watch each other's backs during missions, their synergy on the battlefield a testament to their deep connection. 

And somewhere along the line, she fell for him. She had fallen for Bucky's resilience and vulnerability, though she never expected more, knowing that a relationship was not what he needed right now. At least, that's what she thought. Little did she know, Bucky had always loved her; ever since the day she offered him tea the first night they were on the run to Wakanda. Maybe she was just simply aloof, or maybe Bucky’s flirting skills weren’t translated the way he wanted, but they never crossed the line between friendship and ‘something more’.

Then when Jen came into the picture, it felt like things started to change. Jen was bold and confident, and it wasn't long before she caught Bucky's eye. Their relationship seemed to spring up overnight, and y/n, though hurt, tried to be happy for Bucky. Jen was supportive and caring, or so it seemed, and Bucky deserved happiness.

Now, as planned the team was instructed to moved into the Avenger compound for a few months to train new recruits. It had only been the first month but surely it was jam packed with endless of rigorous training sessions. The original team—y/n, Sam, Bucky, Jen, Clint, and his mentee Kate Bishop—were all assigned to train the new recruits, with additional of few agents from different branches coming in to help out.

y/n was heading to the training room; she knew it was way too early but she thought that if she didn’t get out of bed now, she might not even get up at all. To her surprise, she was not the first one. She saw a few new trainees were already on the way to the training room; some of them greeted her a good morning. She simply smiled at their enthusiasm. 

The moment she entered the area, she overheard voices coming from the corner of the room. She paused, recognizing Jen's voice, which was raised and laced with contempt. Curiosity piqued, y/n stepped closer, staying just out of sight behind the white board. In hindsight, it might seem weird that she was sneaking around to eavesdrop on Jen, but she couldn't help it.

Initially, y/n liked Jen. She tried to welcome her into their tight-knit group and even supported her relationship with Bucky. However, as time went on, Jen began acting strange. The things she said about Bucky sometimes sounded condescending. She would make comments like, "It's amazing how well he's adjusted, considering his past," or, "It's great that he's trying so hard to be normal." The way she acted often differed from her words, with Jen giving Bucky disapproving glances or sighing heavily whenever he mentioned something from his troubled past.

She had noticed these discrepancies and started to feel uneasy around Jen. She couldn't shake the feeling that Jen’s support was just a facade. Now, standing behind the whiteboard, she strained to hear the conversation.

"…and honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can trust him," Jen was saying. "I mean, sure, he's got that whole 'reformed hero' thing going on now, but let’s be real. He was Hydra’s pet assassin for decades. The things he’s done? It’s unforgivable."

Her friend, another agent from a different branch, nodded hesitantly. "But you’re dating him, aren’t you? Doesn’t that mean you trust him?"

Jen laughed, a cold, humourless sound. "Dating him? Please. I’m in it for the fame and the perks. Have you seen the way people look at us? Besides, he’s hot, I’ll give him that. But trust him? Never. People like him don’t change. They’re broken. He's a monster, and he always will be. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps again."

y/n felt a surge of anger rise within her. How dare Jen talk about Bucky like that? 

Memories flooded her mind, flashing back to Bucky’s nightmare-plagued nights. She remembered the prominent dark circles under his eyes, the haunted look that never quite left his face. The silent pain he endured, adjusting to a modern world where he felt like an outsider, magnified when Steve left. She could still see the wary, suspicious glances people cast in his direction, the whispers behind his back when they first ventured out. Before the fame he acquired as he regained his reputation after the Flag-Smasher incident.

She had witnessed his hardships firsthand—the nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat, the moments of crippling doubt and self-loathing. But she had also seen his triumphs, the small victories that slowly built his confidence. The first time he laughed freely in her presence, the genuine smile that lit up his face when he finally allowed himself to relax. She cherished those moments, the sunshine that broke through the clouds of his tortured past.

All of this came rushing back, breaking the chains on the Pandora's box inside of her. The fury she felt wasn't just for the disrespect to Bucky; it was for every ounce of pain he had suffered, every moment of joy he had fought so hard to reclaim. Her eyes hardened with resolve as she stepped forward, her voice steady but cold. "Take that back," she demanded, her presence startling both Jen and her friend.

Jen turned slowly, a smirk spreading across her face as she saw y/n. She knew from the beginning about the cute little crush y/n had on Bucky. To be frank, everybody sort of knew about it, except for Bucky somehow. 

"Or else what, y/n?" she replied with a mocking tone. "You’re quite pathetic aren’t you? You think that I can’t see how you’ve been eye-fucking my boyfriend all this time? Come on, now. Backing him up would not give you a leeway into his pants, y/n."

y/n’s face went through a range of emotions—shock, embarrassment, and then seething anger. Jen’s words were like poison, each one landing like a punch to the gut.

Jen continued, confidence oozing out of her cocky demeanor, "Besides, we all know that I can easily beat you in a fight, doll" 

The use of doll—a nickname Bucky had given y/n from day one, when Steve had quite literally kidnapped Bucky from the government—made y/n blood boil. Hearing it from Jen felt like a personal attack, a deliberate attempt to undermine everything she shared with Bucky.

And it was true that Jen had graduated top of her batch from the Avengers program and had countless successful missions under her belt, but y/n knew this wasn't about accolades or abilities. This was about something deeper, something more personal.

y/n clenched her fists, taking a step closer. "You think this is about who can fight better?" she said, her voice shaking with restrained fury. "This is about respect. You don’t get to talk about Bucky like that."

Jen scoffed, a cruel smile on her lips. "Respect? For that monster? You’re delusional. He’s a ticking time bomb, a liability to the team. And deep down, everyone knows it."

y/n’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, she slapped Jen hard across the face, the sound echoing through the room. Jen stumbled and fell to the ground, shock and anger flashing across her features.

She stalks forward like a predator cornering its prey, "I’m just done with your lies and your insults. Bucky deserves better than you." Jen instinctively crawled backwards towards the centre of the room. Seeing that she got the attention of the few new recruits she regained her composure, smirked again, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "You’re pathetic, y/n," she taunted. "Defending a lost cause." her voice was loud enough for y/n to hear but quiet enough that the others might not be able to decipher her words.

At that moment, Bucky and Sam burst into the room, followed closely behind by a new recruit who alerted them of the incident. Bucky’s eyes widened as he took in the scene—Jen on the ground, y/n standing over her, shaking with rage. "What’s going on here?" His demand was completely ignored as y/n’s mind was hyper-focused on the wrath bubbling within her. 

"Get up," y/n demanded, her voice shaking with wrath. Bucky’s momentarily froze as he watched the confrontation escalate before him. y/n, usually so composed, was now a whirlwind of rage, her eyes blazing as she stood over a trembling Jen. Bucky had always known her to be fierce in battle, but this was different—this was raw, unbridled anger. "I'm going to make you regret every word you said. So get on your fucking feet before I rip it off you.." 

Jen, still on the ground, looked up at y/n with wide, teary eyes, playing the role of the victim to perfection. "Please, I didn't– I don’t know what you're…," she whimpered, casting a fearful glance at Bucky and Sam, who had just arrived on the scene.

Bucky's mind raced. Why was she doing this? He stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "y/n, hey!" he shouted, his voice a mix of confusion and anger. "What are you doing?"

Completely ignoring him, "Get up," y/n snarled, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Get up and fight me. I’ll show you who the real monster is." Jen looked up, her hand on her cheek, disbelief mingling with her fury. "You’re crazy," she spat, scrambling to her feet.

Her response was only a furious shout. "I said, get up!"

"y/n, are you crazy?!" Bucky yelled, moving quickly to intervene. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and unforgiving.

She turned her fierce gaze towards Bucky; her expression momentarily faltering at the hurt in his eyes. "Bucky, you don’t understand, she--" she began, but the words caught in her throat as she saw Jen's smirk flicker for just a second.

"There's nothing to understand," Bucky snapped. "You’re acting insane."

y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt and frustration. "Bucky, you have to listen—"

But he cut her off, his expression hard. "I don’t care! You hurt her, y/n. You think I don’t see that bruise on her cheek?!" Bucky shouted, his face contorted with anger. His eyes, usually filled with a gentle warmth when he looked at y/n, were now blazing with fury. "This isn’t like you, y/n. I’ve noticed that you’ve never liked Jen, and I don’t know why. But this? This is just immature and reckless." His metal grip on y/n's wrist was tighter than he intended. She winced, her eyes watering not just from the pain but from the sting of his words. 

y/n had never seen Bucky like this. His anger was palpable, radiating off him in waves. It was like being hit with a physical force, and she felt her heart breaking under the weight of it. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her anger flaring even hotter. "Bucky, you don’t understand," she tried to explain, but the words caught in her throat.

Bucky’s expression remained hard, the force on her wrist tightening painfully. "You need to grow up, y/n," he seethed, his disappointment evident in his tone. "You're always causing drama lately, and it needs to stop. Jen’s been there for me in ways you haven’t, and I won’t tolerate you attacking her like this."

The words cut through her like a knife. Her heart shattered at his harshness, at the realization that Bucky thought so little of her. She yanked her wrist free, feeling the sting of his grip lingering. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Believe what you want."

Without another word, she turned and stormed out, leaving Bucky standing there, torn between confusion and guilt.

A gnawing sense of remorse tugging at him, but he couldn't shake the confusion and anger clouding his mind. "Jen, are you okay?" he asked, helping her to her feet.

Jen, tucking herself to his side, managed to summon a few tears, looking up at Bucky with a feigned innocence. "I don’t know why she hates me so much," she murmured, playing her part perfectly.

Bucky fingers softly traces on her wounded cheek before his gaze switched to y/n’s retreating form, a knot tightening in his chest. He wasn’t sure why those mean words had spouted out of his lips. Was it because he saw Jen injured on the ground and his protective instincts kicked in? Or was it because Jen had been whispering doubts in his ear about y/n’s loyalty, making him question his longtime friend? 

The truth was, Bucky had always relied on y/n’s unwavering support. She had been his rock through the toughest times, and seeing her so furious, so hurt, shook him to his core. Yet, in the heat of the moment, he had lashed out, unable to reconcile the image of Jen crying with the fierce anger that radiated from y/n.

As Bucky comforted Jen, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He couldn't shake the image of hurt on her face, nor could he ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

On the side, Sam was only able to watch the scene play out silently, a frown creasing his brow. He had a feeling there was more to this story, and he intended to get to the bottom of it.

As weeks passed, the rift between Bucky and y/n deepened, fueled by Jen's cunning manipulation. In a private conversation, Jen planted seeds of doubt in Bucky's mind, suggesting that y/n harboured hidden resentments and intentions.

"I hate to say it, Bucky, but maybe she's not who we thought she was," Jen insinuated, her voice dripping with false concern. "Maybe she's been hiding her true feelings all along, waiting for the right moment to strike." 

Bucky, already vulnerable and confused after the incident in the training room, absorbed Jen's words like poison, allowing them to fester and take root in his mind. He began to view y/n through a new lens, one tainted by suspicion and distrust. This single conversation, filled with subtle manipulations and insidious suggestions, was all it took to fracture the bond between Bucky and y/n, leaving Bucky cold and distant towards the one person who had always stood by his side.

Most days he would avoid eye contact with her during team meetings, barely acknowledging her presence when they were forced to interact. In training sessions, his instructions to her were curt and clipped, lacking the warmth and camaraderie they once shared. y/n felt each of these interactions like a stab to the heart.

She couldn't understand how quickly Bucky had turned against her, how easily he had accepted Jen's version of events without even giving her a chance to explain. The hurt festered inside her, eating away at her sense of self-worth.

Then one night, as y/n sat alone on the rooftop, staring out into the darkness, Sam found her there. He knew this was where she retreated when she needed space to think, to process her emotions. He approached her cautiously, sitting down beside her without a word.

"Why aren't you at dinner, y/n?" Sam finally asked, breaking the silence. He could see the emptiness in her eyes, the weight of her sorrow pressing down on her.

She shook her head, her voice hollow. "Lost my appetite," she muttered, her gaze still fixed on the horizon.

Sam gently prodded, knowing there was more to her withdrawal than just a lack of hunger. "Is it because of what happened the other day at the training room?" he asked softly.

Instantly, her demeanor shifted. Anger flared in her eyes, directed not just at Jen and Bucky, but at the entire situation. "I don't want to talk about it, Sam," she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. But Sam wasn't one to give up easily, especially when he knew how much y/n was hurting. "Come on, y/n," he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. "You can't keep bottling this up. Talk to me."

Her expression softened slightly at Sam's persistence, but the pain still lingered in her eyes. "Seriously, Sam, please just drop it," she pleaded, her voice wavering with emotion.

Sam could see the cracks forming in her facade, the vulnerability seeping through the tough exterior she usually projected. Without a word, he pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting her bury her face against his shoulder.

As she clung to him, her facade finally crumbled. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "He hates me, doesn't he?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbreak. "Bucky hates me."

Sam held her tighter, offering silent comfort as she grappled with the weight of her sorrow. He knew there were no easy answers, no quick fixes to mend the shattered pieces of y/n's heart. But in that moment, all he could do was be there for her, a steady anchor in the storm of her emotions.

The dim glow of the kitchen's overhead light provided a faint sense of solace in the otherwise silent darkness of the compound. Bucky sat at the wooden table, his tired eyes staring blankly at the cup of untouched tea before him. It was a nightly ritual lately, this dance with sleeplessness and the haunting memories that lurked in the shadows of his mind yet again.

Footsteps broke the stillness, and Bucky's gaze shifted to the entrance of the kitchen. y/n stood hesitantly in the doorway, her presence casting a tentative aura over the room. There was a palpable tension between them, an unspoken weight that hung heavy in the air.

She cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Mind if I join you?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She was expecting Bucky to ignore her completely but he didn’t; Bucky simply shrugged nonchalantly, his guard seemed to flatter. "Suit yourself," he muttered.

As she quietly took a seat opposite him, a heavy silence settled between them. Bucky's thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions, each one vying for dominance over the others. His guard seemed to falter in the presence of her tentative yet comforting aura. The weight of his own vulnerability loomed large in his mind, drowning out the anger he had harboured towards her.

As the silence stretched between them, she felt a surge of compassion wash over her. She knew why he was awake at this time. She knew that the tea he brewed was to help him sleep. She was the one who planted that habit to him after all.

And despite everything that had transpired between them, she couldn't bear to see Bucky suffer alone. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she decided to reach out to him, to offer what little comfort she could.

Without a word, y/n rose from her seat and moved to stand behind Bucky's chair. He stiffened at her touch, his muscles tense with apprehension. But as her gentle hands began to massage the tension from his neck, a wave of unexpected relief washed over him.

Her touch was soft and comforting, a stark contrast to the coldness he had grown accustomed to due to Jen’s unwillingness to acknowledge this side of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, coaxing him to relax, to let go of the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, Bucky allowed himself to forget the walls he had built around his heart. In her presence, her voice, and her touch; he felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of warmth that he had long since forgotten.

But then, like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a fragile flame, the weight of Jen's words came crashing back down upon him. Anger flared within him, hot and fierce, directed not only at y/n but at himself for allowing his heart to yearn for her.

He pushed himself away from the table, his movements sharp and abrupt. "I don't need your pity, y/n," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "Just leave me alone."

With that, he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving y/n alone in the suffocating silence.The disbelief that clouded her thoughts gave way to a searing agony that twisted in her chest. How could he say such things? How could he push her away so callously, after everything they had shared?

y/n buried her face in her hands, her body trembling with the force of her sobs. The weight of her shattered dreams pressed down on her, crushing her spirit beneath its merciless grip. She had never felt so alone, so utterly abandoned by the one person she had trusted above all others.

The pain of losing Bucky, of losing the love that had sustained her through the darkest of times, threatened to consume her whole. Each breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled her soul.

In that moment of crushing despair, she couldn't help but believe that Bucky truly hated her. The thought tore through her like a knife, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that no amount of time or distance could ever hope to heal.

As she sat alone in the suffocating silence of the kitchen, y/n felt the full weight of her heartbreak descend upon her like a tidal wave. She was lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, drowning in the agony of losing someone she had loved so deeply, so completely. And in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find her way back to the surface again.

Unbeknownst to her, Bucky lingered just out of sight, his heart heavy with guilt. He wanted to go back, to take back his harsh words and hold her close, to chase away the tears that stained her cheeks. But the poison in his mind was too strong, clouding his judgement and trapping him in a cycle of self-destructive despair. And so, with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to cry alone in the darkness.

The mission had already been tense enough, but as y/n found herself face to face with Jen in a location she wasn't supposed to be, the atmosphere crackled with an added layer of hostility. It was as if fate had conspired to place them in this confrontation, and her jaw clenched involuntarily as she braced herself for what was to come.

Jen's presence in that spot was no coincidence, and she knew it. Her suspicions were confirmed as Jen turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips, a gleam of malice in her eyes. y/n's grip tightened on her weapon, her pulse quickening as she prepared for the verbal assault she knew was coming.

"How does it feel, knowing that Bucky hates you now?" Jen's words sliced through the air like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of y/n’s deepest fears. It was a direct hit, striking at the core of her insecurities, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath her feet.

But she refused to let Jen see her falter. With a steely resolve, she squared her shoulders and met Jen's gaze head-on, her expression a mask of defiance. She may have been shaken by Jen's words, but she refused to let them break her.

Ignoring the taunts, she focused on the mission at hand, determined to prove her worth despite Jen's attempts to undermine her. But with each passing moment, the weight of Jen's words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over y/n’s every move.

It was a battle on two fronts – against the enemy they faced together, and against the doubts that threatened to consume her from within. But she refused to back down, drawing strength from the knowledge that she fought not just for herself, but for the team she believed in with all her heart.

But Jen's relentless barrage of insults made it difficult to concentrate, her words like daggers slicing through y/n’s defenses.

"Aww come on y/n, bet you’re reeling in the loss right now, aren’t you." Jen continued, her voice ice cold. "The Asset’s little lapdog, clinging to him like a lost puppy."

y/n’s temper flared at the insult, her grip tightening on her weapon as she fought to keep her emotions in check. But Jen's mocking laughter only fueled the fire burning within her, pushing her to the brink of her patience. "Shut your mouth, Jen," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Or I swear to God, I'll make sure that the team finds your body disassembled in one of these rooms."

Jen simply rolled her eyes, unfazed by her threat. "You love him that much, huh?" y/n had no intention to deny that fact; she does love him, "More than you ever could." her voice was firm and true. Jen’s smirk fell as she scoffed. "Ain't that cute, the Winter Soldier and his little psycho sweetheart."

Before y/n could respond, a voice cut through the tension like a knife, freezing her in place. It was Bucky, his expression dark and stormy as he stepped into view. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he took in the scene before him.

y/n’s heart sank as she realized that Bucky might have heard everything. She turned around to meet his eyes and his face confirmed her suspicion; he heard it.  Bucky had heard everything – every taunt, every insult, every word exchanged between her and Jen; even the confession of her true feelings. She met his gaze; searching for some sign of understanding of his emotions and the little that she saw was: disappointment, betrayal and guilt, mirrored back at her in the depths of his stormy blue eyes. 

In that moment, all she wanted to do was pull him into her arms, to pull him away from all the painful memories and hurtful words; so far away that he would forget he had ever been taunted, betrayed, or made to feel less than he was.

Before she could utter a word, let alone take a step towards him, Jen's voice broke through, but it lacked the usual confidence. "Bucky, it's not what you think," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between Bucky and y/n. "I-I was just..."

y/n’s clenched her jaw, her patience wearing thin as Jen stumbled over her words, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. She could see the confusion and hurt in Bucky's eyes, a reflection of the turmoil raging within her own heart.

"I-I mean," Jen continued, her voice faltering. "I was...um...just trying to...uh..."

But her feeble attempts to justify her actions only served to further incense Bucky. His brow furrowed in anger, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to make sense of the situation.

"Enough," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want to hear any more lies."

y/n’s heart ached as she watched Bucky's expression darken with anger and disappointment. She wanted to explain, to tell him the truth about Jen's betrayal and her own misguided attempt to defend him. But the words caught in her throat, choked by the weight of her guilt and regret.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky turned away, his shoulders slumped with defeat. "Let's just finish the mission," he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We'll deal with this later."

As he was about to walk away, y/n noticed a red dot on his chest, the unmistakable mark of a sniper's laser sight. Without thinking twice, she leaped towards him, her body acting as a human shield. Time seemed to slow down as she collided with Bucky, pushing him out of the way.

"y/n, no!" Bucky shouted, his voice filled with panic as her body slumped against his chest.

In the chaos, Jen was nowhere to be seen. She had slipped away, taking shelter and ultimately fleeing the area as she heard multiple footsteps approaching.

Bucky tried to pull up his gun, but it was too late. An array of bullets rained down on them. He felt the searing pain of a few shots piercing his own flesh, but it was nothing compared to the sight of y/n’s body being riddled with bullets. She was hit in the shoulder, wrist, thighs, and other places Bucky couldn't even register.

Rage surged through Bucky like an inferno, obliterating any semblance of restraint. He moved with a deadly precision, his eyes blazing with fury as he unleashed a storm of bullets on the enemy. His movements were swift and unforgiving, every shot finding its mark with brutal accuracy. The enemy fell one by one, their bodies collapsing in lifeless heaps. The air was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire and the acrid smell of gunpowder, but Bucky's focus was unyielding.

Within moments, the room was cleared, the enemies wiped out in a flurry of rage-fueled vengeance.

The adrenaline ebbed away, leaving Bucky standing amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. He turned, and his eyes fell on y/n's crumpled form. The sight of her lying in a pool of her own blood shattered his rage, replacing it with a crushing wave of worry and panic.

"Hang in there. Please," Bucky hastily spoke, his voice trembling. He activated his com line, desperation seeping into his tone. "Guys, we need help. y/n... she's... she's been shot. We need to get out of here right now!" Panic coursed through him as he turned his attention back to y/n, frantically trying to stop the bleeding on her stomach. "y/n, doll…please" he pleaded, watching her hazy gaze. "Don't you dare give up on me now. Come on."

"babydoll, stay with me!" Bucky cried, his voice breaking as he cradled her in his arms. Blood soaked through her clothes, staining his hands. "Please, hang on, you can’t leave yet. I haven't told you... I haven't—" 

Her eyes fluttered open, her breathing shallow and ragged. "It's okay, Bucky," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos. "It's okay. Don't cry." Her shaking hands struggled to move, and with great effort, she managed to cup Bucky's cheek. The gesture was weak but filled with tenderness. "It's okay," she repeated, her fingers trembling against his skin.

"Don't talk like that," Bucky choked out, his own tears mingling with the blood on his face. "You can't.. I haven't told you...please doll..." His voice wavered with the weight of unspoken words and unconfessed feelings. He hadn't told her how much he truly cared for her, how every moment spent away from her felt like an eternity. He hadn't begged for forgiveness for his coldness, his mistakes, and for letting Jen's poison taint his actions. The guilt gnawed at him, each heartbeat a reminder of the words he hadn't said, the emotions he hadn't expressed. 

He pressed her hand harder against his cheek, feeling the warmth of her touch anchoring him in the moment.Her hand weakly brushing against his cheek. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured. "I know."

Bucky's heart shattered as he clung to her, feeling her life slipping away. "No, no, no," he muttered desperately. "You can't leave me. Please, y/n. Please."

She smiled faintly, her eyes closing. "I'm here, Bucky. I'm right here."

With a final, shuddering breath, y/n’s consciousness slipped away. Bucky felt a surge of panic, but he knew he had to move. He lifted her limp body, cradling her against his chest as he ran towards the quinjet. Each step was agony, his own injuries slowing him down, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting y/n to safety.

"Hang on, y/n," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Hang on. I won't let you go."

In the sterile environment of the medical bay, y/n lay unconscious, her body hooked up to various machines that monitored her vital signs. Bucky sat by her bedside, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. Every beep of the monitor seemed to echo through the silence, a haunting reminder of her fragile state. He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing her bandaged wrist.

Memories of their time together flooded Bucky's mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the connection they shared. He remembered the laughter they had shared, the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. He remembered the gentle touch of her hand, the warmth of her smile that never failed to chase away the darkness.

But amidst the memories, there was also pain – the pain of their last conversation, the words left unsaid and the choices left unmade. Bucky's throat tightened as he recalled the day he had walked away from Jen, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths.

His voice was cold and final. "You almost got her killed, Jen," he had said, his eyes blazing with anger. "Stay away from us. Stay away from me."

Jen's eyes had flashed with anger, her words cutting like knives as she lashed out in frustration. "And what, you think you'll find someone better than me?" she had spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Good luck with that, Bucky. You'll never find anyone who would put up with your baggage."

But Bucky had remained resolute, his decision fueled by a sense of longing and regret that threatened to consume him whole. "Maybe not," he had admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'd rather be alone than with someone who doesn't truly care about me."

Now, as Bucky sat by y/n’s bedside, the weight of his decision bore down on him like a crushing weight. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers trembling with emotion.

"I'm so sorry, babydoll," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I never meant for any of this to happen. So, please, wake up. I need you."

But y/n remained unconscious, her breathing shallow and weak as she lay before him. And as Bucky watched over her, his heart heavy with worry and regret, he vowed to do whatever it took to bring her back to him, to keep her safe from harm for all eternity.

For in that moment, Bucky realized that he couldn't bear to lose her – not now, not ever. She was his rock, his anchor in a world of uncertainty and pain. And as he held her hand tightly in his own, he prayed with all his heart that she would find her way back to him, to the love and light that had always guided them through the darkness.

The soft hum of machines filled the air as y/n stirred awake, her senses slowly coming back to her. She blinked, disoriented at first, until her gaze fell upon Bucky, who was sleeping soundly in the chair beside her bed. His hands were clasped tightly around hers, his face peaceful in slumber, but she couldn't help but notice the tear stains on his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines etched into his forehead.

"How long has it been since?" she wondered to herself, her heart aching at the sight of Bucky's exhausted form. She carefully sat up, trying not to disturb him as she lovingly examined his sleeping face. She couldn't help but smile as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through her fingertips.

Bucky groaned as his sleep was interrupted, muttering something about Sam needs to leave him be; before he abruptly sat up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hi there," y/n greeted softly, her eyes sparkling with affection as she watched Bucky's reaction.

For a moment, Bucky seemed unable to comprehend that she was finally awake. His eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. But then the realization hit him, and he threw himself at her, wrapping her in a tight embrace as if she were the most precious thing in the world .Despite the pain that shot through her body, she managed to let out a soft chuckle, returning his embrace with equal fervor. The warmth of his embrace chased away the lingering chill of unconsciousness, and for a moment, everything felt right.

"y/n..." Bucky breathed into her neck, his voice trembling with emotion. She hummed in response, her heart swelling for him. "Hmmm?"

Not wanting to let go of her, Bucky called her name once again, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "y/n-..." She paused, her lips curving into a tender smile as she whispered in his ear, "Yes, Bucky?"

Bucky tightened his grip, his breath hitching in his throat as he buried his face in her shoulder. y/n gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "I'm here, sweetheart." The scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth against him—it all felt overwhelming. Emotions churned inside him like a tempest. Relief, guilt, love, and fear battled for dominance, leaving him raw and exposed.

She gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "Bucky, I'm not going anywhere.

Bucky's mind raced, images of the past few weeks flashing before his eyes. He remembered the coldness with which he'd treated her, the cruel words that had slipped from his lips, fueled by Jen's poison. He thought of the sleepless nights, the nightmares that had gripped him, and the aching void he'd felt every time he saw y/n’s hurt expression.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "For everything. For not believing you. For pushing you away."

Reluctantly, she pulled away, but not before wiping the tears from Bucky's cheeks and fighting the urge to place a tender kiss on his forehead. As she looked into his eyes, she could see the depth of his love and the pain he had endured for her sake. And in that moment, she knew that she had found her home in his arms. Bucky took her hands in his own, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to her wounded wrists. "This will never happen again. Ever," he vowed, his voice filled with determination.

Moved by his words, y/n felt her heart flutter with emotion. She realized in that moment that she could never stay angry at him, no matter what had transpired between them. She understood now that they were both at fault, both victims of circumstance and misunderstanding.

With a surge of courage, she reached out and pulled Bucky into a kiss. Her lips met his in a slow, passionate embrace, pouring all of her love and forgiveness into the tender gesture. It was a moment of connection, of healing, of reaffirming their bond despite the trials they had faced.

The taste of Bucky's lips was like a soothing salve to her soul; it was intoxicating. It felt as if the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's arms. When they finally broke apart, Bucky whispered those three words that y/n had longed to hear, "I love you."

Her heart soared with joy, and she couldn't help but tease him, "Took you long enough." her teasing words met with a cheeky grin from Bucky.  "I love you too, Bucky" she blinked slowly. As he whispered softly under his breath, "Come here," he pulled her back into the kiss, their lips meeting in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of their unspoken love. And in that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their world, they found solace in each other's arms, knowing that together, they could weather any storm.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I just needed to let this out lmao. It's been stuck in my head for several weeks. Thank you for spending your time reading this crap... honestly. Love you so much 🤍

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Hi!

I’d love a part two to your hit me hard and soft fanfic. Maybe Y/N continues to avoid them as a romantic relationship but begins to accept a platonic one liking eating with Dick or hanging out with Jason at school, etc… but the Batfam gets impatient and talks about why they are afraid (and maybe hunt down the ex which could gain their trust?)

Hit me Hard and Soft: Whispers in the Shadows

Synopsis: The relationship between the batfam gets broken after mistakes lead to accusations, and accusations lead to contingency plans.

Pairing: Yandere!Poly!Romantic!Batboys X Gn!Reader

Tw: Poly!Yandere; All characters aged up; Possible betrayal; Bad father Bruce, but is he actually the asshole here?; Arguments; Mentions of killing and torture; Possibly ooc batboys: English is my 2nd language.

Word count: 2k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Not much action between Reader and the batboys here, but definitely something. Read the end to answer my question👀

General masterlist | Hit me Hard and Soft - Series masterlist

— You can't be serious.

The tension was at its highest point. Only a few times priorly did the conflict between all of them get this bad, and as always, they feared things couldn't go back to the way they were.

— I am being serious. That's how things work. — Bruce stated darkly and Dick narrowed his eyes. — We tried it the nice way, I trusted you to behave, but you couldn't do that. — Bruce raised his gloved hand and pointed at Damian. — First, Damian can't control himself. He spent a decade acting right. Justice, not vengeance. But now, he's using (Y/N) as an excuse to defile orders and act as an assassin again! — Damian hissed and clenched his fists, taking a step forward.

— If you really cared for them, you would understand, father! But as always, you put your so-called mission above everything, even us! Even them! — Bruce clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes in his direction, then turned to Jason.

— And you! How many chances do I have to give you? Both of you! You don't change. You will never change. And until you do that, you will never deserve (Y/N)’s or mine trust. Or their love. — Jason's heart broke in two, but he didn't react on the outside. Just kept his hard, Red Hood’s exterior. As he always did every time he and Bruce had a falling out.

— Bruce… — Dick muttered, a mix of a warning to remind him of not going too far, and betrayal by what he was witnessing. Bruce didn't look phased. And the fact he was still wearing Batman's suit, minus the cowl, just made this whole situation more genuine. He was neither Bruce Wayne, the persona, nor Batman, the vigilant. He was just Bruce. Their boss and their father.

— You hunted down that man, tortured and killed him! And you… — He took his gaze away from Jason and glared at Damian again. — Knew about it, and didn't notify us!

— I did know about it. Todd, you should have told us before. I also wanted that scum’s blood in my hands-

— ENOUGH! THE BOTH OF YOU WILL STAY AWAY FROM (Y/N). FOREVER.

Tim raised an eyebrow.

— Sound’s convenient. — All head’s snapped in his direction.

— What do you mean, Tim? — Dick asked. All muscles on his body tense. Tim gazed at him for a moment, then at Damian and Jason, then at Bruce again, staring directly into his eyes. — I just think it's very convenient that Bruce's getting rid of two of them. While your reason checks with past conflicts we had, with your morals and mission. It's also good for you that you wouldn't have to share (Y/N)’s attention with so many people in the future. Right, Bruce?

Silence took hold of the room.

— What are you implying? — Bruce stomped forward until he was face to face with Tim, their nose’s almost touching, daring him to say more. Tim didn't back down.

— Yeah, Tim, what're you implying? — Jason raised an eyebrow behind his helmet and took a step forward. The others copied that action.

— I’ve been watching you, Bruce. Just like you've been watching us. I know you’ve been upgrading contingency plans, more specifically, our contingency plans. I think he's been trying to keep us busy. To rile us up to commit mistakes. While he hogs all of (Y/N)’s attention. He said Damian could be trusted again if he proved himself, that was a year ago, and he still didn't give Damian permission. I bet he knew Damian would get restless and get more violent with criminals. Until he had an excuse to kick him out. And Jason, he let you spend time with (Y/N) at university. But as soon as (Y/N) started calling you their best friend, hanging out with you outside of classes and even confiding in you about their trauma, proving that our plan to make them trust us was finally working, suddenly (Y/N)’s ex receives an offer to transfer to GCPD, while everyone here has a… Weakness, when it comes to losing people we love and avenging their suffering, it's a known fact some are more… Trigger-happy than others.

Dick shook his head.

— Tim, that's something serious you're accusing him of.

— Let him continue. — Bruce growled darkly.

— I don't have anything to accuse you of, Bruce. I just don't trust you. — He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

— So you're ready to brush off what they did? — Bruce accused and Dick started to feel even more restless seeing that the distance between them didn't change, feeling the urge to get in the middle and defend his little brother.

— I didn't say anything. But I wouldn't be surprised if me or Dick were next. — That made Dick snap.

No, he can't.

He can’t keep me away from them.

After everything I did.

We're just so close now.

Just earlier today we were having lunch together.

He can't.

He can't do this to me.

Is that how Jay and Dami felt? Is that why they snapped and started killing people? Is that why Jason killed that guy? Just for the idea of losing them forever?

Is that why, even with how heartbreaking and horrible it sounds, any possibility of someone trying to take them away from them made Tim voice out his paranoia? Thoughts Dick had when everything was quiet, when he just brushed it off as intrusive thoughts?

It isn't… Logical… But it also is…

The only thing stopping him from believing Tim wholeheartedly is the lifelong trust he had on Bruce. But those are just feelings. And they all feel. Intensely. For you.

And as much as they tried to make it peaceful, everyone having a piece of you and being happy. They were having problems, and a traitor was always a possibility.

Either way, he couldn't take that chance.

That night, Wayne Manor slept almost completely empty. All of the sons were gone. And you would know it too.

It's been a week. They've been meeting at the apartment just beside yours. It was empty, until Damian bought it, and started living there after cutting ties with his father. He wasn't happy that the others were also using it as their nest, a place to meet and talk about strategies. And keep an eye on you.

Damian was slowly steering his tea, mind elsewhere, not really paying mind to the conversation. While it was important, his stomach was full of butterflies and his heart pounded hard every time he thought about earlier, something he couldn't stop doing. After a whole year of being almost completely away from you, finally spending time with you was like a dream. That just made his resentment towards his father grow worse, even if he didn't do that on purpose, it still felt like injustice.

He knew since he was born, his way of doing things was always better.

He just told you he didn't know that part of the town much, and you, sweet you, already acquainted with his brothers, invited him to show him around. A bad taste came to his mouth whenever he thought he was the least close to you, even if he knew everything there was to know about his beloved. He got left behind. He let himself be left behind.

Because he was weak. Because he was submissive. Because he trusted his father.

His mother did send him to his progenitor's home saying that he needed to learn from him.

— We could use the League.

All heads snapped to him.

— Huh?

— We are talking about contingency plans for our father. We could have the League of Assassins on our side. Infinite resources against one single man. (Y/N) would live in luxury. And they did tell us… — His heart warmed at the sensation of finally feeling included in your life. — … Multiple times that they despised the cold weather Gotham always seems to have. Eth Alth'eban is always hot.

— We are not joining those fuckers, and you shut down that idea before I start believing what that old man said about you and kick your ass into your grave, demon brat. — Damian kept stoic after Jason's response.

— We could use the League for something good for once. I could. As the Head of the Demon. — He retorted with confidence.

Dick shook his head in disbelief.

— Dami, I think that's too much. It would only prove what Bruce was trying to say. — Damian leaned forward, as if getting closer would make his point come across as more genuine.

— I could do it! Not as a dictator like my grandfather! But as something actually good! Not just for us, but for everyone! The whole world!

— Does that megalomaniac plan of yours have an actual strategy? — Damian rolled his eyes.

— Of course it has. Kill anyone who gets in the way of my rightful place at birth. — Damian tilted his head at Tim, who looked at him in disbelief.

— Even Ras? — Damian frowned. What a dumb question. Damian would do anything for you.

— Especially Ras. — A fist hit the table and the oldest got up with a scowl in his face.

— No one. Is going to kill. Anyone. And we are not going to use the League. — Damian got up too.

— What is stopping you? This is for (Y/N)! It is not just some fucking petty act to annoy father. He acted behind our backs and he will take my beloved from me! From us!

— We don't know that yet! — Even with Dick's exclamation, it was clear not even him was totally sure about Bruce's intentions.

— … Failing to prepare is preparing to fail. — Tim muttered. They all observed he had a distant look on his face, it was the look he had when he was planning something. After a few seconds, he looked up again and got up, facing Damian. — I'm with you. It’ll be nice to see Ras look when he realizes he lost to me one last time. And to have whole guardianship of my spleen he keeps on his bedside table again.

— What? — The other three sputtered.

— I won't kill anyone. But I will help you and be an ally. Even if that means losing the Titans and leaving behind everything I build here. All for (Y/N). — Tim spoke. Jason got up.

— Tim, you can't be serious too. — He received a glare in return.

— I am. You're invited to join us. Or to become our enemy.

Damian was staring at Tim, the brother he always had a strange relationship with, full of fights and sarcasm, but they always knew they could count on each other in the end. Because they were family.

Of course, it would be nicer to have you all to himself, but he also needed more allies, and brilliant minds like his own. It would also hurt to lose every person he loved while choosing you, even if he would always choose you in the end.

— … What if (Y/N) doesn't trust us after this? — Dick mumbled, trying to see both sides before making a decision.

— We’ll explain to them. About how we got rid of every single individual who wanted to isolate and steal them from us. How we want to care for them. Keep them safe. And how I- We, made the world a better place in the process. — Dick glared at him halfheartedly.

— We have a solid plan here, Dick. We Just have to form our strategies based on what we have. It will work!

Dick sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. He started walking around the apartment, contemplating, listening in on your apartment and Tim and Damian in the background, trying to convince Jason.

When even Jason seemed convinced, Dick knew what he had to do.

Everyone turned to him when he came back to the table again, in expectation.

He looked Damian in the eyes and put his hand on his little brother's shoulders. So grown. So different from what he was before meeting you. You brought the worst out of him. Out of all of them. And you didn't even know it. That was the worse part.

But Dick was always known for being a manipulator.

— Congratulations, you're the new Demon's Head.

Extra note: I'm curious to if you guys think Bruce was actually planning something and not just being regular canon Batman putting his morals above family👀

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

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[impactedfates]

heyy 😁 so um like I was hoping you could do like a combination of hsr men and genshin men, the reader is their lover who sits on their lap just to pass the time (the men are up to u pls pls include wriothesley and neuvillette if u can 😳😍 tys 💖)

★ A/N: Yep, I don't at all mind doing combinations of both fandoms

☆ Genre/Trope: Romantic

★ Format: Mini Scenarios (Characters Included (Separate): Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Zhongli, Jing Yuan and Blade)

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Wrio + Neuvi might be OOC // Short-ish // Reader is shorter then characters included // Reader is NOT the traveler

The first time you do it, Wriothesley is surprised. Don't get him wrong he doesn't mind having you this close he just didn't expect it is all. He at first isn't too sure what to do in this situation, he still has work to do but you're there on his lap, is he meant to drop his work and give you attention and that was your way of telling him? Are you doing this just because and he can still work??

When he does finally get used to it, I see him continuing with his work, using one hand to write, sign and pick up/put down papers while the other hand is wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he calmly scribbles down whatever's he's meant to.

If you're really desperate for attention though and aren't just sitting on his lap just because he might indulge and pepper your face with kisses, however this is only if he doesn't have too much important work to do, if he does he'll just chuckle and tell you to be a bit more patient.

Neuvillette didn't understand the concept of it at all when you first did it. Sure he knew humans had different ways of showing their love or just different things they do with their partner in general but he didn't expect one of things you like doing is sitting on his lap.

He's often working so he likely marks this as a way for you to be closer to him even in silence, and in a way it motivates him to finish a bit quickly so he can give you the attention you deserve.

Overall, although he may not fully understand what you're doing just knows this seems to be something you enjoy doing with him, and if it makes you happy then he's happy. Just as long as you wait until he's finished work before giving you any attention you may want.

Zhongli also is still learning more about humans but perhaps is more knowledgeable than Neuvillete is. He doesn't say anything when you do it for the first time however he will question you if you continue to do it, wanting to know why you seem to find enjoyment from merely situating yourself on his lap.

When you see you just like it because it passes the time or any other reason, he'll simply chuckle. If you were to ask if he's annoyed by it he'll shake his head no, he simply wanted to see why you enjoyed it so much, after that he'll invite you to sit on his lap a lot more, however more so in private.

Maybe if he's reading a book and sees you coming into the room, he'll gesture you to come towards him and pat his lap with a smile, if you enjoy it so much he'll indulge for as long as you like.

Jing Yuan practically INVITES you to sit on his lap once you did it the first time. Once he knows you like spending your time on it then anytime you're around and he's sitting, he'll tug you over just to take a seat.

He loves having you close to him, his work can wait and he can handle Fu Xuans scolding for the nth time that day, you're way more important to him then any work he has due...however he does eventually need to get it done, but he'll happily do it with you still on his lap if you don't want to get off.

HOWEVER, this will come at a price. Yes, he himself also enjoys having you in his lap BUT he'll also like using YOUR lap as a pillow. So if you want to continue using his lap as a seat, be prepared to have your lap being used as a pillow.

I feel like Blade full on pushes you off the first time you do it. Don't get him wrong, he does feel bad for probably hurting you but he's not much of a touchy guy. Especially if you two were still fresh into the relationship.

He'd much prefer you ask beforehand. Most of the time he'll say no as I see him as someone who needs something to do the majority of the day and he cannot allow himself to relax.

However once he gets more comfortable into the relationship then he might finally agree to let yourself rest on his lap. It might be awkward for the both of you as Blade isn't making any attempts to hold you, his hands at his side but the more comfortable he gets the more relaxed he lets himself become and soon enough Kafka or Silverwolf may find him holding you close.

Hopefully this isn't too messy!! This has been sitting in my drafts as I struggle to find the time to continue writing it sorgipget.

The next post should be a Christmas Special of sorts :> (Hopefully)

[bloodlust-1]

Hi. So I loved the story you made about Tav revealing she's a virgin to Astarion. You said we could send prompts so when you're back I would love a story about Tav's first time with Astarion under the stars 🌟🥰.

Love your stories

Thank you 🙏🏾

Okay - Fine! I'll totally give ya a part 2 ;* ! A few people actually requested this so it's about time ;p Since this is a virgin Tav, I wanted to be extremely delicate and detailed with Astarion's actions, while also still being sexy. This is some slowburned passionate smut!!

Lets get into iitttt. Hope you enjoy reading anon!

˚ ° A purity like yours ° ˚ part 2

Lovely photo by @astarionposting

Astarion x fem Tav — Explicit 18+

T/W: Smut!, virginity

Summary: Astarion fulfills his promise to make Tav's first time a beautiful and memorable experience, something he believes she deserves. When he surprises her, things get heated and her first time becomes a memory that'll forever burn into her head.

Notes: This is a part 2 to this story. You don't have to read part 1 to enjoy or understand the storyline, but it just hits different for the ones who did :* <3

The air was filled with the sweet scent of wildflowers and the sound of crickets chirping. Astarion had been planning this surprise for weeks and now it was finally time to show Tav. He took her hand and led her through the dark forest, carefully avoiding any fallen branches or rocks.

Tav held onto his hand tightly, and the anticipation was welling up inside her. What was it? She had no idea where Astarion was taking her, but she trusted him completely.

Finally, they reached a clearing in the forest and Astarion stopped, turning to face Tav with a soft smile on his face. "Close your eyes," he whispered, "I have a surprise for you."

Tav did as she was told, her heart racing with excitement. She felt Astarion take her hand once again and lead her a few steps forward before coming to a stop.

Tav felt the warmth of his palms on her shoulders. Then, the pressure of his lips pressing against her neck, "Okay, open your eyes."

Tav slowly opened her eyes and gasped in awe at the sight before her. They were standing in a beautiful pasture, surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers. But what took her breath away was the night sky above them. It was filled with countless stars, twinkling in the darkness.

"Astarion..." Tav spoke under her breath, her eyes wide with wonder. "I had no idea..."

And somehow, the moonlight captured Astarion so perfectly under its shine. A small wind blew softly threw his white curls.

Astarion chuckled at her reaction and helped her lie down on the soft grass. "I knew you would love it," he said, lying down beside her.

Tav couldn't take her eyes off the stars, they seemed to go on forever. "I never knew the night sky could be so beautiful," she whispered.

Astarion turned to look at her, his eyes shining with adoration. "Just like you," he said, a hint of awe in his voice. "Your beauty is just as infinite as the stars above us." He shyly averted his eyes back onto the sky.

Tav's eyes welled up with tears and she turned to look at Astarion with a scrunched smile. "Thank you for showing me this,"

Astarion wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "I am just glad you like it, my dear," he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Tav couldn't contain herself, wrapping her arms tightly around Astarion and bombarding his face with kisses. "You're the best," she said between giggles.

"And beautiful!" He exclaimed at her sarcastically, or did he really mean it?

Tav rolled her eyes and shook her head with a light heart.

They lay there for what felt like hours, just enjoying each other's company in comfortable silence. Tav could feel Astarion's steady breath against her cheek, and it calmed her nerves.

Without warning, Astarion's hand slipped down to rest on Tav's hip. She stiffened slightly, not expecting the sudden touch. But before she could react, Astarion's hand moved lower, cupping her ass.

Tav's eyes widened in surprise, and before she could speak, Astarion let out a nervous apology under his breath. Tav could see the panic in his eyes, afraid he had crossed a line.

"No -" She felt herself get flustered, but Tav mustered up the courage to reach for Astarion's face, cupping his cheekbone.

"I-I actually...like it," Tav stammered, her eyelashes battered at him shyly.

Astarion's eyebrows raised in shock before a cocky smirk spread across his lips. "Oh, is that so?" he teased, his voice low and playful.

Tav nodded.

Astarion's fingers trailed up the back of her thighs, tickling her skin. Tav squirmed under his touch, feeling a sudden heat between her thighs.

Her breath hitched as Astarion groped her ass, his touch was surprisingly gentle and soft. Tav felt his breath become heavy and he leaned closer to her, his lips hovering just inches from hers.

"You're such a tease," she playfully scolded him, her voice laced with desire.

Astarion just chuckled, his fingers still teasingly caressing her skin. "But you like it," he whispered, his lips now grazing her ear.

Damn, he's right.

Tav liked the way he made her feel, and the way he touched her. With a sudden burst of confidence, she pulled him in for a passionate kiss, gently climbing on top of his body fully.

Astarion's hands gripped Tav's hips, softly tugging them against his groin. He huffed into the kiss, grinding her hips against him with each needy thrust.

Tav's hands slid up Astarion's chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath his shirt. She moaned softly while he continued to grind against her, the lace of his shirt now completely undone and hanging loosely around his neck.

Astarion growled low in his throat, his lips moving from hers to trail kisses down her neck. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "If this is what you really want, my love - I can't wait to feel you."

Tav shivered at his words, her body aching with desire. "I want you," she replied, her hands running through his hair as she tugged him closer.

Astarion's hands traveled down her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her waist before sliding under her shirt. He lifted it over her head, revealing her bare skin to him. He helped her kick off her pants as well.

Astarion lifted her by the waist, pushing her to sit straight up on his lap as he laid, "I want to see you from this angle."

Tav looked down on him in her undergarments. This was the most naked she had ever been in front of him, and it made her shudder with anxiousness.

His eyes sparkled, trailing down from her collarbones, breasts, stomach, full thighs, and then the soft cloth of her panties. She was a work of art, a muse.

His hand snaked up her side, with a swift motion he unclipped her bra with one hand; allowing it to sink off her shoulders.

Tav turned her head timidly, hiding her face in as much of her hair as possible.

As her bra fell, her breasts were exposed to the cool air of the night, and Astarion was practically drooling.

"Pretty." Astarion hummed in approval. He reached out for her breast, cupping the soft skin into his palm.

Tav's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She had never been touched like this before and she didn't know how to react. Astarion's hand continued to roam over her chest, his touch gentle and curious.

"Relax, my dear," he whispered, he took her nipple between his fingers. "I will be gentle."

He sat up, one breast in his palm, and his other hand wrapped around her waist.

Astarion's lips trailed down Tav's neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses. He gave her breast a gentle squeeze. Tav gasped at the sensation, her body responding to his touch despite her nerves.

He pulled her closer, his lips now on hers, and Tav melted into his embrace. Astarion's other hand joined in, caressing her other breast, and Tav couldn't hold back a loud moan.

"There it is. how does it feel?" His breath tickled her lips.

"More - please.." Tav shamelessly lowered her head, allowing her whimpers to flow out softly.

Astarion kissed her deeply, and her worries and doubts faded away. Tav gave in to the pleasure, letting Astarion take the lead and guide her through this new experience.

she was grateful to have him as her first. He was gentle and nurturing to her needs and wants.

Astarion continued to explore Tav’s body, hands hungrily stroking every curve, scar, and stretch mark he could dip his fingers on.

Studying her every move, expression, and whimper, Astarion pinned every spot that made her jaw drop and face burn red. He specifically loved the way her lower lip fell when she moaned.

He felt one thing that he had never felt before: In control. And all he wanted to do with it was please Tav.

He continued to kiss her, lacing his tongue with hers. The excitement started to whelm deep into his stomach and as a result, poking Tav’s inner thighs with a full erection.

Astarion became desperate, sloppily kissing her while their tongues twirled together. Their hold got tighten around each other and Astarion pulled away with a sharp breath for air.

“I wonder how you taste." His lips pulled into a smug look and it burned Tav's heart. He was so shameless and knew exactly what he wanted. Why wouldn't be honest with his love?

He pushed Tav's back onto the grass, hovering over her naked body.

Tav's heart raced, and Astarion looked down at her with dominating eyes. She couldn't believe she was here, at this moment, ready to give her virginity.

As he pulled his shirt off, Tav blatantly stared at his abs. But when he removed his pants, his erection building right up, Tav had a wave of nerves wash over her.

Astarion noticed the panic in her eyes and immediately stopped. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, his hand caressing her cheek.

"It's okay, my dear," he whispered, "I'll take care of you."

Tav's heart swelled at his words. She nodded, giving him a small smile. He would take care of her, surely.

His lips trailed down Tav's collarbones, making their way to her breasts. Tav's breath hitched, he took one of her nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it and sending shivers down her spine.

He then moved down her stomach, his lips leaving a trail of kisses and his hands caressing every inch of her skin. When he reached her thighs, Astarion couldn't resist the temptation any longer.

With a devilish glint in his eye, he spread her legs wide and took a deep breath, "Delicious," he murmured, before teasing her inner thighs with his kisses.

Tav squirmed under his touch, her skin tingling from the grazing of his fangs against her thighs. A soft moan escaped her lips, and a trail of hickeys littered her skin.

But it was nothing compared to the sensation when Astarion finally placed a single kiss on her core. Tav's back arched for more, her fingers gripping the blades of grass. A soft gasp left her lips.

"I think we should take this slow, my dear," Astarion whispered against her sex, "After all, it's your first time."

Again, his lips were on her folds, kissing them until his tongue dragged across her wetness. The slick of her core had a sweet tinge that only made him desperate for more.

The tip of his tongue fell onto Tav's clit. It burned in heat compared to his tongue and he slowly traced in all kinds of shapes. His red eyes glared up at Tav, studying which designs made her moan more, whimper, arch her back, and push her hips closer against his mouth.

And when he did find her spot, Tav's became a breathy mess. Cries and whimpers flowed out her mouth like lyrics to her favorite song. Her ankles quivered to each long stroke of Astarion's tongue.

Her stomach knotted deep within her and Tav hastily grabbed a handful of his curls.

"A-aahhh, Don't..S-Stop." She gritted her teeth and her face scrunched in an intense plea to his tongue.

His name cried off her lips.

With a devilish glint in his eyes, Astarion flicked his tongue and teased her most sensitive spot. Tav's moans grew louder and heavier.

It was like he became almost feral. He pushed his face closer to her core, his tongue working even more intensely against her clit. Tav felt a knot forming in her stomach. Tav's body tensed up as she neared her climax.

With one final flick of his tongue, Astarion brought Tav to her peak, her body released itself, and Tav let out a breathy cry. Astarion looked up at her, nodding in approval as he took in her flushed cheeks and ragged breaths.

Tav was left breathless and Astarion quickly covered her mouth with his, their tongues tangled needingly like a drug. Their tongues and teeth clashed together roughly. Their bodies practically hummed with a desire for more.

Finally, they pulled away, their chests rising and falling, both trying to catch their breath. "Wow..I...never felt that - before," Tav huffed, her eyes fell hazy.

Astarion gazed at Tav with a mischievous smirk on his face. "I could say the same, my love," he replied, before pulling her in for another heated kiss.

Tav moaned between the kiss, "I want to make you feel good too."

"Open your mouth," Astarion commanded as he fit himself perfectly between her legs.

Tav obeyed, and his slender fingers slipped into her mouth. She sucked on them eagerly, wetting them with her tongue. His eyes coldly pushed them deeper into her throat until she gagged.

"You're such a good pup," Astarion praised, his voice husky with desire. He used her saliva to lubricate his cock before placing it at the entrance of her core.

"Are you ready?" His red eyes pierced Tav's, and with teary eyes, she nodded yes.

With a slow and steady pace, Astarion pushed his hips forward, sliding himself into her. Tav clutched onto his arms and winced at the sharp pain, but Astarion's face faded somber at the sound of her cries.

"Shhh...There, there. Try to relax," he comforted her, giving her a moment to adjust to his length. Tav pulled him closer into a hug, tightly shutting her eyes into his nape.

Astarion gently rubbed the back of her head with his hand, his thumb tracing comforting circles on her skin. Tears welled up in Tav's eyes, but she spoke to Astarion through the pain.

"I can feel you," Tav hummed in a soft voice, admiration.

His heart skipped a beat at her words. They were finally one, and it made him fall in love with her all over again.

Astarion rarely became nervous, but Tav's words shook him, "A-Alright, I'm going to go slow, my love..."

With each thrust of his hips, Astarion could feel Tav's grip tighten around him, and he let out a low grunt of pleasure against her neck. Tav's body responded eagerly to his, and soon they were moving in perfect rhythm together.

Tav's nails dug into Astarion's shoulder blades, dragging lines down his back until it rested on his hips. Tav forced his hips down with her palms closer to her groin.

Their bodies were slick with sweat as they moved against each other, and Tav's moans mingled with Astarion's grunts. At that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of them, lost in their lust.

Astarion grabbed Tav's thigh, forcibly pulling her leg up tighter into his cock. He pumped skillfully into her sex, closing his eyes as his body greedily melted to the sensation.

Fuck, Astarion's mind went blank. Sex was never for pleasure. Not in his world, but in this moment; there was something special about the way his spine shivered and his skin crawled.

Without a word, Astarion took hold of Tav's wrists and pinned them above her head, glaring down at her with carnal lust. Only a gasp left her lips.

"I'm going to take everything I want from you, my love, greedily and passionately."

Wasting no time, his hips rocked against Tav's, their bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces.

Tav mewled a loud moan, the roughness of Astarion's thrusts almost bordering on pain. But it was a good kind of pain, one that sent shivers down her spine and made her toes curl.

"Astarion!" she cried out, her voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation. "Fuck...n-nghh!"

Astarion's own moans mixed with hers, his breath hot against her skin as he continued to drive into her with each thrust. Tav's walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper and deeper inside her.

Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, each moan and gasp pushed them closer and closer to the edge. Tav's mind clouded with nothing but the feeling of Astarion's cock inside her.

"Harder, Astarion," she begged, her voice rasped raw with need.

And he obliged, his movements becoming rougher and more urgent and they both approached their climax. Tav's moans turned into cries of ecstasy while her body trembled beneath Astarion's hold.

With one final thrust, Astarion let out a loud moan. His length twitched three times, filling Tav before collapsed on top of her. Their bodies were still entwined.

When he pulled out, a small sheen of blood covered his tip.

Astarion captured Tav's lips, and his eyes fluttered hazily. He then pulled Tav into a hug and they lay in each other's arms, panting and catching their breath. They may have started as strangers, but in that moment, they were truly one and it was a feeling that he never wanted to let go of.

"You're amazing," Astarion kissed Tav's forehead, "How do you feel?"

"I feel ruined - but in the best way possible." Her mouth hung open, still catching her breath.

Astarion clicked his tongue against his teeth, "Darling, you will be feeling deliciously sore in all the right places tomorrow."

"You really think so?" Tav's glossy eyes widened with a flush of red burning her cheeks.

Astarion was so right. The lingering ache would serve as a sweet memory of their passionate and unforgettable night together.

Any thoughts? Comment 👇🏼 I love to engage!

[awkward-walking-potato]

Do you write for charles xavier?? If so cloud we get a reader who just keeps bothering him while he is working cause they want his attention and every one else is busy? I hope you have a good day!

I hope you don't mind I wrote this Pre Wheels Charles

The afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of the Xavier Institute, casting warm, golden light across the vast room where Charles Xavier sat, surrounded by papers, books, and a holographic display projecting data from Cerebro. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his mind focused on the delicate task of tracking mutant activity across the globe. The mansion was unusually quiet, with the other X-Men off on various missions or training sessions. It was a rare moment of peace, one that Charles was determined to use to catch up on work.

And then, you appeared.

“Charles?” Your voice broke the silence, drawing his attention away from the screen.

“Yes?” He looked up, his expression patient but slightly distracted.

“What are you doing?” You leaned against the doorframe, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Just some work,” he replied, hoping that would suffice as an explanation.

You nodded, stepping further into the room. “Looks important.”

“It is,” Charles confirmed, his eyes drifting back to the hologram. He tried to refocus, but he could feel your presence, still lingering, still watching.

“Everyone else is busy,” you continued, moving closer to his desk. “Scott, Jean, Logan—they’re all off doing something. I’m bored.”

Charles glanced up again, his lips quirking into a small smile. “And so you’ve come to bother me?”

“Pretty much,” you said with a grin, leaning on his desk now. “What’s that?” You pointed to the hologram.

“Mutant activity tracking. I’m trying to—”

“Sounds complicated,” you interrupted, picking up one of the pens on his desk and twirling it between your fingers.

“It is,” he said, still smiling despite himself. He could sense your playfulness, and though he knew he needed to focus, he couldn’t help but be charmed by your persistence.

You sighed dramatically, putting the pen down and plopping into the chair across from him. “Can I help?”

“I’m not sure this is something you’d find very interesting,” he said diplomatically, though the idea of you sifting through the data with him did amuse him.

You groaned and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “Why is everyone always so busy? It’s like this whole saving-the-world thing never ends.”

Charles chuckled softly. “It does tend to keep us occupied.”

There was a pause, and for a moment, Charles thought you might have given up. He returned his attention to the hologram, his fingers hovering over the controls.

But then, you spoke again. “Charles?”

“Yes?”

“Do you ever just—” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Do you ever just want to take a break from all this? From being the wise professor and the leader of the X-Men? Just…be Charles for a while?”

Charles looked at you, truly looked, and saw the sincerity in your eyes. It wasn’t just boredom driving you to seek him out; it was a desire for connection, for a moment of normalcy in a life that was anything but.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, the work momentarily forgotten. “Yes, I do. More often than you might think.”

You smiled, a warm, understanding smile that made something in his chest loosen. “Then maybe you should take a break. Just for a little while. You deserve it.”

Charles regarded you thoughtfully. “And what would you have me do during this break?”

“Well,” you said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin, “I was thinking we could take a walk in the garden. Or, if you’re feeling adventurous, we could raid the kitchen for some of those cookies Hank made yesterday.”

Charles laughed, a genuine, light-hearted sound that echoed in the quiet room. “Cookies and a walk in the garden, you say?”

“Maybe even some tea,” you added with a playful wag of your eyebrows.

He shook his head, still smiling. “You’re very persuasive.”

“It’s one of my many talents,” you said, standing up and holding out your hand.

Charles looked at the work spread out before him, then back at you. The world could wait a little while longer. With a nod, he reached out and took your hand, letting you pull him to his feet.

“Alright,” he agreed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Let’s go see about those cookies.”

As you led him out of the study, chatting animatedly about all the things you wanted to do, Charles couldn’t help but feel grateful for the interruption.

[sugarlywhispers]

Bakugou Katsuki is known for being a man with character, with a strong personality. A man that looks menacingly and fucking scary. Everybody knows that he isn't a man that you would want to have problems with –villains literally shit their pants every time the name Dynamight is pronounced. He is fucking terrifying when he gets mad and angry. Even his own hero colleagues and friends know that.

Some people thought that Katsuki needed a woman who was different from him. Like someone more easy going and friendly. Someone who denoted more brightness than him.

And you are exactly that. You two look so different sometimes that people don't understand how you two work things out. But what people don't know –but Katsuki does, perfectly well– is that inside you hides a person even more scary than Bakugou Katsuki could ever be.

And so there all his hero friends are, standing freeze and looking gobsmacked at how you angrily yell to a man at the restaurant all of you were about to leave. Katsuki doesn't know exactly why you are screaming so pissed off at that man, but he thinks that if you are that upset, it surely means that it is something bad. Which also means that the man probably deserves it. You know how to defend yourself, and Katsuki is fucking proud of that.

“Are you really not going to interfere?” Asks Kirishima, looking surprised and a little worried at the same time. Bakugou shakes his head smiling.

He completely loves when you show that side of yours; it is actually the very big thing he loves about you the most and one of the reasons he fell for you in the first place.

“But… I-I don't get it. What happened to our little princess?” Katsuki can't avoid laughing at Mina's words. They really don't know you the way Katsuki does.

“Was it something on the food?” Kaminari asks, kind of like hiding behind Todoroki, the latter watching the altercation with big surprised eyes.

“He wished that was the reason,” says Sero when he comes back from where you are standing, still yelling at the man. “He was selling information about us, and our whereabouts. Apparently, the idiot also took some pictures and was selling them too.”

Katsuki crosses his arms over his chest and grins. So that is why you are that pissed... You are defending him and his friends.

Fucking cute, is what you are.

All of them look at Bakugou dumbfounded. And him? Well, Katsuki looks fucking proud of you.

“Go home, guys. This may take a while,” he says, not taking his eyes out of your still yelling little form.

“Are you sure? Don’t you want us to stay and help you ease things down? She looks pretty… upset,” Deku says sincerely, even though he looks kind of afraid of you. HA. Not even fucking Pro Hero Number 1, Deku, is immune to your terrifying side.

Everyone is a little afraid, and Katsuki smiles proudly at that.

“Nah, I can handle it. I'll see you guys tomorrow.”

Everyone says their goodbyes leaving him standing there in silence, watching you proudly and with amusement.

It took almost half an hour later until you released all your anger in the form of words to the man. With one last not so pretty word to him, you turn around and walk to your waiting boyfriend.

Katsuki's smile is so freaking big, you think it may break the skin of his cheeks. “Finished already? I thought it would take longer than that…”

“Did you know what he was do-ing…” You start a bit heated, but his arms surrounding you by the waist and pulling you to his chest calms you down immediately.

Even though you don't quite finish the sentence, Katsuki already knows what you are talking about, “Yeah, Sero told us what happened.”

He rocks your bodies slightly from side to side, hands caressing your back in a comfort, soothing touch. You don't understand what or why he is doing it, but you aren't complaining either. You love being in his arms.

And Katsuki loves the way he can calm you down just with one touch from him –just as fast as he does when you hold him.

He hugs you tightly and then kisses your forehead, hanging his lips there for a moment.

You snort, a delicate amused breath that collides with his neck and makes his body tingle.

“What is this? A kiss to calm the beast?”

He chuckles, “It's a kiss that shows how much I love you.”

And that shows how proud he is that you are as scary as him. Or even more than him.

a.n; lol this is actually something that happened to me once.. i'm suuuuuuuuch a short tempered minion sometimes it even pisses me off LMAO and then i have the audacity to question why i have favs like bakugou and sanemi oops>.<

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Previous - Part 9 - Next

You banged on the door of the room where that man was locked up, waking him up abruptly.

"Let's talk"

Jimmy: "I thought visiting hours were over."

He complained, turning around to turn his back to the door.

"Don't try to be funny with me, Jimmy. What the hell did we do to deserve so much hate from you?"

Jimmy: "Don't play innocent, you know very well what you did!"

"Honestly, I have no idea! That's why I'm asking you!"

Jimmy: "Of course, because I was always the shadow of your dear husband. You never turned to look at me again after you got with him, you never smiled at me like you did with him, you didn't even speak to me. It was as if I were invisible to you!"

"Oh, of course I was looking at you!"

Jimmy: "Then why didn't you ever tell me anything?!"

He shouted that, getting up from his bed to head towards the glass that separated them, watching your face to see you when you replied.

"BECAUSE I'VE ALWAYS HATED YOU!"

You screamed with all your lungs, to the point of making your throat hurt.

"You always brought trouble to Curly! He was always so naive, a sucker for approval, of being the good guy in the story, of not letting anyone down! That's why he never abandoned you! I knew better that's why i stopped talking with you! Because you were and are a piece of shit!" 

Jimmy: "Oh, but you talk as if I were the only fucked up one in the story."

"Yes! I admit it! I was also a mess when I met Curly, but I did something, I was able to see beyond that mess I was, he showed me that I could improve, he gave me opportunities that I knew how to take advantage of and become a better person! In someone who could make his mother proud instead of making her cry because she didn't know if he was coming home or not!"

There was a silence when you finished saying that, until you saw him smirk, that reaction you didn't like at all.

Jimmy: "You're right, Curly loves to please, you should know that very well."

"Ugh, for the love of God, I don't know why I try to reason with you, it's impossible."

Jimmy: "But you were the only one who refused to give in to make me happy."

You opened your eyes wide upon hearing that, turning again to the man who still wore that smug smile.

Jimmy: "Just as beautiful and messed up as I am, I thought you would understand me, but then you became a good girl, yet I still hoped you would look at me..."

"Shut up-"

Jimmy: "Oh, and the damn way Curly talked about you, how incredible you are, so kind, hardworking, so beautiful."

"I tell you to shut up-"

Jimmy: "Those lovely moles in the center of your chest that look like a constellation"

"He wouldn't talk about those things with you!"

Jimmy: "I saw it myself"

You felt like you were going to puke at that moment, you didn't want to believe that he had really done something like that to you while you were unconscious, you didn't want your suspicions to be confirmed, you refused to believe it.

"Liar. Anya wouldn't leave me alone, she would lock the nursery door-" 

Jimmy: "Yes, yes, she did that, it was a pain in the ass. Every night when she went to sleep, she locked the nursery with that code that only Curly and she knew... But that place wasn't closed while someone was inside."

"She wouldn't let you get close to me!"

Jimmy: "They were so sweet, Anya staying by your side saying she had to make sure all your signs were okay, and when she left, she would ask Swansea if he could keep an eye on you. But he was so depressed that he didn't dare to stay with you for long, so... I took his place to make sure you were okay."

"In front of Curly..."

You murmured at having to imagine the scene your husband had to witness without being able to do anything about it other than watch.

Jimmy: "That was the funniest thing"

You hugged tightly, feeling a horrible tingling all over your body, as if you were dirty.

Jimmy: "Swansea had no idea about anything, Anya didn't want to talk about it with anyone else. Thanks to her silence, I was able to finally look at that body that you always hide from me, thanks to Swansea's stupidity and feeling sad for his little captain, feeling all guilty and shit."

Swansea: "What did he just say..." 

You turned to see Swansea at the end of the hallway, carrying Jimmy's rations, holding an axe firmly in the other hand; he had managed to hear everything.

"Swansea-"

Swansea: "Open the door, captain"

"Listen - it's not worth it, do you have any idea what they'll do to you if they find out you hurt someone from the crew? Please, I don't want them to lock you up." 

You said immediately, positioning yourself in front of him, trying to get him to see you, but his eyes were glued to the door where he could see Jimmy's face.

Swansea: "How are they going to know? Let's say it was an accident. Open the door!"

You wanted to keep reasoning with him, but you couldn't deny that you also wished he would face consequences for his actions.

You took the axe from his hands, making him look at you annoyed.

"I won't take the risk of you killing him."

Those were your last words before opening the door, Swansea didn't take much more than a few seconds to fully open the door, step inside, and throw himself at Jimmy.

You could hear the sound of the blows, the insults, and the screams.

You stood at the door wide open, axe in hand, watching as the blood spread across the floor with each blow Swansea dealt.

You watched Jimmy and tilted your head, waiting for him to defend himself.

You wouldn't hesitate to cut off his hands if he touched Swansea.

[aphroditelovesu]

can you please write 🦄 for either yan!steve or yan!bucky?

❝🦄❞ - ‘’I... I really can't let you go.’’

❝tw: kidnapping and slight angst.

When Steve found you at home, well, at least he considers it your home, you were lying on the couch, reading a book of your favorite genre. The mere sight of your presence made him smile and he unconsciously moved closer to you.

"Hey, honey." He murmured as he sat down next to you on the couch, close to your feet stretched out and bare beneath the soft fabric. Steve frowned slightly when you didn't respond to him. "Honey? I'm home." He tried again, his voice firmer.

But he got no response.

Steve sighed irritably when he realized what you were doing. The punishment of silence.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, feeling his frustration growing. He knew the punishment of silence was your way of showing that something was wrong, but he couldn't understand what he could have done to deserve it.

Everything he did was for you. Always for you and would always be for you.

He leaned forward, placing his hand gently on your knee. "Honey, please tell me what's going on." He pleaded, concern evident in his voice. "I can't fix what's wrong if you don't tell me."

The book in your hands continued to be your only answer. Steve sighed again, deeper this time, and decided to try a different approach. He got up and went to the kitchen, preparing your favorite drink. Maybe, with a little patience and a gesture of affection, he could break the silence and find out what was going on.

Steve quickly returned to the living room, bringing with him a silver tray with your favorite drink and snacks. He placed it in front of him, on the coffee table. However, you refused to talk to him, or even look at him.

Had he done something wrong?

Steve tried to search his mind for anything he could have done that triggered such a reaction from him, this coldness that hurt him more than anything. He sighed when he finally realized that it may have been the sudden change in your life that caused you to become so cold towards him.

You still hadn't completely gotten used to his presence, to living with him. It had been something sudden when he brought you here, but Steve couldn't leave you alone, not when the world was becoming more and more dangerous. He couldn't even imagine what he would do if something happened to you.

Steve sat next to him again, this time closer. He gently touched your shoulder, trying to get your attention. "I know things changed too quickly." He began, his voice low and full of regret, "I brought you here thinking it would be for the best, but perhaps I didn't consider how much it would affect you."

He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words, "I just wanted to protect you, make sure you were safe. But I understand if you're feeling like you've lost your freedom, your old life. I'm sorry if I was selfish in not realizing it sooner."

Silence still hung between you, but Steve continued, determined to get through to you. "I want you to feel at home here, not like a prisoner. And if there's anything I can do to make this easier for you, please tell me. I'm here to listen."

You finally looked at him and placed the book down in your lap. Your gaze met his and you spoke, your voice loud and clear. "I want to go home. To my real home."

His gaze suddenly hardened and the grip on your shoulders tightened, becoming painful. His voice was low but you could feel the anger, the pain, in them. "No."

Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden change in his behavior. Steve had always been protective, but he had never been so authoritarian. You tried to pull your shoulders away from his grip, but he wouldn’t budge.

"Steve, you're hurting me." You mumbled, trying to keep your voice calm even as fear rose within you.

He took a deep breath, eyes softening a little, but his grip still firm. "Sorry." He murmured, slowly releasing you. "I just... I can't let you go. It's dangerous out there, and I can't risk losing you."

You rubbed your shoulders, feeling relief mixed with growing discomfort. "But I can't live like this, Steve. I need my freedom, my space. I can't be a prisoner. I can't."

He shook his head, visibly struggling with his own emotions. "It's not a prison. It's to protect you. You have to understand that."

Steve grabbed your hands and squeezed them gently, touching you as if you were made of glass, and with any wrong touch, you could fall apart. He rubbed your fingers and replied, "I... I really can't let you go."

His words were painful to hear because you knew he was telling the truth. He would never let you go.

[boiohboii]

A broken house

(Charles leclerc x daughter! Reader)

Masterlist

I just saw remembered this heartbreaking scene from an old theatre play (is that what they're called?), like when colors on tv first became a thing old, and I just had to write it down. WARNING: implications of cheating, abandoning children, Charles is not a good guy at all, a daughter confronting her dad, not proofread, just something quick right before bed

Charles never imagined he would ever be in this situation.

When he first held yn in his arms, his precious, precious daughter, his oldest and the apple of his eyes, he vowed to never hurt her, to never see her cry and to never let her expirence heartbreak, so what was he supposed to do when she's standing right in front of him cheeks flushed, fists by her side and angry tears falling out of her eyes.

He was the reason, he was the reason and he never thought he'd be. And to make it all worse, he doesn't feel sorry. He doesn't know where it all went wrong and he doesn't know when he became so cold-hearted towards the sunshine of his life, his pride and joy. But it's too late now, too late to try and talk, too late to try to explain and too late to even get a speck of the love yn held in her eyes for him. He knew it was too late. It was just too late.

"So what," yn refused to accept her father's silence, she needed to hear him say it, admit to his wrongdoings "you're just gonna leave us?"

"You don't understand," Charles tried to reason, his eyes not even meeting his daughter's identical ones "she needs help."

"THAT'S YOUR REASON!" yn's voice boomed through the empty house, thanking anything and everything that her mother and siblings aren't home yet "that's your reason to abandon us! What about mum huh? what about your wife? The woman WHO SACRIFICED HER YOUTH FOR YOU! TO FOLLOW YOU! TO HELP YOU! And what of my siblings, what are they gonna do? What did they do to deserve this? What did any of us do to deserve this?"

Yn looked at her father, slowly walking towards him, she refused to believe that's the same man who showed her what love is, who carried her on her shoulders to hear her laughter, who promised to sheild her from the world's treachery. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, the man who promised to protect her is the one clawing at her heart and watching it bleed, too much of a coward to even lift his eyes from the floor.

"Please," yn's voice broke as she thought of her home tearing apart, her mother and her baby siblings "please take a moment and think about it, about our family, just for five minutes. Please."

"I'm not going to waste my time."

Yn's breath hitched in her throat, her voice gaining power as her disappointment and anger took over, yet still so quite.

"All four of us don't even deserve five minutes of your time. Are you that impatient to leave with her? Don't worry, I won't hold you back, but I swear to you, I swear on everything that you believe in that you will regret it. There will be a day where you will wish for the time to go back for an hour, a minute or even a second, you will wish you'd have thought this through and really kept in mind who actually loved you before you ruined it all. But even if all the years turn back, we will never forgive you, we will never miss you and we will never think of you as the man you once were. We will never love you again."

Yn doesn't know where it all went wrong, she doesn't know how could 20 years of loving someone, your father, all just go down the drain because of one voice call. She doesn't know what she's supposed to do or what's she supposed to tell her mother, her siblings, her grandparents, but she knew one thing; it was too late to try and talk her father out of it, too late to not let this moment tarnish all the good memories they had together, too late to even leave a bit of her love for her father in her heart. It was just too late.

[purple-babygirl]

don't call me daddy V

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader

Word count: 4,660

Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails.

Warnings: crying, age regression, fluff, a little angst

A/N: i would like to give credits for this part and its idea to🦊nonnie because without her ask there might've not been a fifth part to this story. Having said that, i'm thinking this should be the last part of the story because i am out of scenario your girl is empty. but anyway, please enjoy this one and have a tight hug xx💜💜

~

When they arrived back at her house, she was asleep in the passenger's seat.

Bucky didn’t want to wake her up. He knew she barely got any sleep last night because of the mean cough she was suffering from and so he carefully carried her inside without a word.

His heart kept speeding up every time he would remember what she called him after taking her shot as he slipped her feet out of her shoes and socks and tucked her in her bed.

He frankly had no idea what he would do if she was to wake up little and if he was ready to be a good daddy to her. What if he messed up again? He seemed to be a pro at that.

Luckily, when she woke up later that night, she was her big self again and didn’t seem to have any recollection of calling Bucky daddy, or if she did, she didn’t mention it.

Bucky gave her her cough syrup and the rest of the meds, helping her go back to sleep as he presumed his place on the floor by her bed.

In a way he couldn’t explain, even her coughs were more comfort than the silence at his house, and definitely more comfort than his nightmares.

It was 12 days of little sleep, a lot of crying, meds, movies and sleepovers until she was fully cured again, and even though Bucky hated that she was sick, those seemed to have been some of the best days he’s ever gotten to live since he’s come back to himself.

He got to laugh with someone, care for someone, comfort someone and enjoy the company of someone. And not just anyone; it was her.

But something was missing still.

Bucky wanted her to call him daddy. More than anything and from the bottom of his heart, he wanted to deserve that name, that role.

What Bucky had noticed in the days he’d stayed at her place was that she had no family pictures at all.

She had framed pictures of friends, of herself, of Corgi, but none of family members.

It didn’t come as a surprise because she’d mentioned it to him before, and he just knew that if he wanted to be her caregiver, her daddy, Bucky had to prove to her that he was nothing like those who’d hurt her. He had to prove himself worthy of taking care of her; set himself apart from them.

And to do that, he had to know more.

“I see no family pictures anywhere,” Bucky spoke as he helped her plant the new tulips she had in place.

“Yeah, we’re not close.” She shrugged, hand stuttering just the tiniest bit in their movements.

“Can I ask why?”

She sighed, “why?”

“I’m trying to learn from the mistakes of others.”

She laughed, “really?”

“Really.”

Oh, this wasn’t a joke?

“You know you don’t have to do that anymore, right?” She couldn’t understand why he would want to try again when the report was handed and he was let off the hook.

“I want to. I really want to.” Bucky wished his gloved hands weren’t muddy as they were so he could touch her face.

He found himself craving physical contact around her more often than not.

“You finally believe in the power of the program?” She teased, keeping her focus on the flowers she was rooting.

“No, I couldn’t care less about the institution and its programs.”

“Not even Mrs. Morrison?” She joked again.

“I’m serious, doll.”

“Why then?” She dropped the bulbs, deciding to face Bucky.

“I want it because it’s you I’ll be daddy to.”

“They never loved me for who I was.” She answered his previous question and Bucky felt a pang at his chest.

He had made her feel the same way.

He remained silent, not wanting to interrupt her in fear that she might stop.

“I always had to be a certain way, say certain things, act a certain way. Do what we say and then we’ll see if we can love you.”

Bucky might’ve been speechless, but his eyes spoke a million words, begging hers for forgiveness for his ignorant mistakes.

“That’s why it hurt so much when you showed me you didn’t accept the little version of me.”

“I’m so sorry-”

She shook her head, stopping him.

“I’ve been rejected for too long, Bucky, too many times. It took me a good while to finally believe that I was worth loving despite my quirks, ugly parts and possible mistakes. Took too long to teach myself that it didn’t matter if I cried all the time, was too clingy or too talkative; I was still lovable.” She pointed to her chest as she finished her words.

Bucky took his gloves off, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop himself anymore. He had no words, only anger and remorse raging inside his chest.

“It takes you a while to unlearn stuff you’ve been taught your whole life by the people who were supposed to love you the most.” She whispered into his shirt.

“Doll, I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered back.

“It’s okay.” She looked up at him, “I appreciate you, Bucky, I really do, but I don’t think I’m ready to lose everything I’ve built inside me if you decide in the middle of it that you weren’t fully ready to take on such a responsibility. I forgive you. I promise. But I don’t trust you enough to give up full control of myself and my life to you again. I’m sorry.” She pulled away from the hug, giving Bucky the option to walk away.

“Don’t be. I understand.” He remained in place.

“Are you gonna disappear now?” She wondered with a sad smile.

“No, you’re not getting rid of me so easily.” Bucky returned the smile, putting his gloves back on.

She smiled gratefully, “I don’t wanna lose you either. You’re such a great friend. And I owe you forever for taking care of me those past few days.”

“What if I prove myself to you though?” Bucky asked, dipping a tulip bulb in the soil.

“What?” She tilted her head in confusion.

“What if I show you how serious I am about this and prove myself worthy of you?”

“Bucky, you don’t have to do that. I know you have a life, responsibilities-”

“I want to do it. There’s nothing more important to me right now than this. And you.”

“If you’re doing this just because you can’t accept that you failed the program-”

“I swear on my ma’s soul, I want to do this. Because of you, doll. For you and with you.”

The words died on her tongue as she watched his sincere eyes implore hers.

“Would you give me a chance to prove myself to you? Please?”

“Okay, Bucky.” She swallowed, “one chance.”

“That’s all I need.” Bucky smiled.

She was not sick anymore and he didn’t have a reason to stick around. He also didn’t want to push her on the matter of regressing, so, respectful of her boundaries, he left.

~

After their conversation in the garden, Bucky had to go home.

His heart was heavy when he entered his empty apartment to nothing and no one. Being alone in here wasn’t something he enjoyed anymore.

It has been 2 days of intense research that Bucky has conducted on age regression and partners in little space when she texted him that night.

“Mr. Barnes, can you please come over?”

He wasn’t particularly happy about the fact that he was Mr. Barnes again, but he certainly was happy that she thought to text him when little. This was an improvement and it counted to Bucky.

“Will be right there, doll.” He texted back, running to his motorcycle.

~

Bucky took in a deep breath before knocking at her door, ready to prove himself a suitable daddy.

She opened with teary eyes, making Bucky’s heart sink.

“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked as he stepped inside.

“I can’t open the pickle jar and now my hands hurt,” she cried, showing him the insides of her palms and how red they were from trying so hard to twist the cap on the glass jar.

She was indeed a little worried that Bucky might find this stupid, that he might yell at her or get upset because she was crying over something minimal in his eyes.

But that wasn’t the case at all. The man was just thankful that she was alright.

“Oh, doll,” Bucky sighed in relief, glad that she wasn’t actually hurt.

Until he remembered that this was a big deal to her. Her hands hurt and she was frustrated because the cap wouldn’t budge.

Moments like these definitely required a daddy.

“I thought Mr. Barnes could help,” she sniffled, her hand wiping under her nose, “metal arm.” She touched his gloved hand.

Bucky chuckled, taking the pickle jar out of her hand, “what if I can do it without the metal arm? What would you give me in return?”

“The biggest pickle?” She offered, wiping her tears away from her eyes, her crying stopping at once.

Bucky laughed at her innocence, “no, I want something else, doll.”

She tilted her head expectantly.

What could Mr. Barnes possibly want? Did he want the whole jar? Would he at least leave her one pickle? She was craving pickles-

“I want you to start calling me Bucky again. No more Mr. Barnes. Can you do that for me, doll?”

Oh, that was something she could do.

“Only if you can open the jar with your not metal hand,” she challenged, her little mind amazed by the idea because look at her hand! It had red marks all over when she tried opening that jar.

“You got it,” Bucky said, easily twisting the cap on the jar open, making her mouth open with it.

“Woah,” she whispered as Bucky handed her the jar with a laugh.

“You’re welcome, doll.” He smiled, watching her chew on a crunchy pickle.

“Thank you, Bucky.” She smiled back, offering him a big pickle.

Bucky’s nerves tingled, knowing he was one step closer to her and his desired title.

~

Moving forward, Bucky learned to distinguish between her big self and little self through texts.

Her little self would always talk about him and herself in third person.

Plus, her big self always needed help with bigger things like needing Bucky to fix her sink or look at her car, knowing he might burn down the city if she went back to asking Adam for help with those things.

Her little self, on the other hand, would need help with the lighter things, the sweeter things. She would call asking for help with Corgi, something too high on a shelf or even just wanting Bucky’s company.

Tonight was one of those nights.

It was thundering more than usual and Bucky had wanted to go and be with her, but he didn’t want to invade her privacy.

But then she called and her scared voice saying his name had Bucky moving even before she uttered the words.

He was proud that she now knew that he was just only one call away; that he would come running whenever she needed. She could finally count on him to be there for her and he couldn’t be more contented.

He knew that consistency was important in relationships, especially one where she was little.

“Hey, doll, it’s okay. It’s just a little thunder,” Bucky cooed, rubbing her back as she let him inside.

“I’m not scared anymore now that Bucky is here.” She smiled, her breathing visibly slowing down.

“Well, I’m staying the night so you have nothing to worry about,” he chuckled, following her to the bedroom.

“Bucky covered his motorcycle?” she asked, worried his vehicle would get ruined.

“Leave that for now, we’ll hose it down together tomorrow when it’s sunny.”

“Corgi loves the hose,” she spoke out the first thought that came to her mind and Bucky loved it, laughing heartily at her comment.

The dog’s ears perked at the sound of his name, jumping at Bucky’s feet as soon as he entered the bedroom, waiting for his share of pets.

He bent down to give the dog some love when he heard her sigh.

“Corgi loves Bucky too.” She smiled shyly, internally wishing her name was Corgi.

“Bucky loves Corgi right back,” Bucky whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

She only smiled bigger, running to her bed and getting under the covers.

When Bucky got down to sleep on the floor that night, however, she slipped off her bed and right next to him.

“Doll, the floor is too cold for you. Sleep on your bed, come on.” Bucky sat up, wanting to help her up on the bed again but she wouldn’t move.

“Wanna be next to Bucky,” she said with a pout.

“But-”

“I know Bucky can’t sleep on beds. It’s okay. Doll will sleep here,” she told him, squeezing Wolfie in her arms.

Bucky’s heart fluttered and it made his mind light up with an idea only a true daddy would have.

“Do you wanna build a fort?” He suggested and her face instantly beamed with a smile as she nodded.

Of course she did!

That night as Bucky gathered all of her soft blankets to make her a floor mattress inside a fort full of fluffy pillows, he knew he was smitten.

This girl had him head over heels for her and there was nothing in the world that he wouldn’t do just to see her smile.

“Can Bucky please tell me a story?”

“Sure, doll. Do you have any books I can read to you from?”

“I have books that big me likes but I don’t want those.”

“What would you like then?”

“I want a story that is Bucky’s. Tell me a story you didn’t tell anyone at the institution.”

Oh, she was jealous. The thought made Bucky smile as he pulled the covers up to her neck to make sure she was warm down on the floor.

“Okay, you ready?” Bucky asked, dimming the lights in her room.

She made herself comfortable under the covers, big eyes watching Bucky’s handsome grin as the cozy atmosphere he’s created comforted her through the storm, “ready.”

“Once upon a time, there was a small idiot who picked up fights with boys much bigger than himself. His name was Steve…”

Bucky fell asleep with his hand stroking her hair, watching her soft breaths leave her chest that night without abruptly waking up in the middle of it for the first time in forever.

~

Bucky didn’t know what it was like to be her, but he was going to do his best to put himself in her shoes like she’d previously tried.

She deserved to be fully and entirely understood.

He witnessed a glimpse of her feelings towards the concept of family a couple of times when they would watch movies like The Lion King or Lilo and Stitch.

She didn’t seem to be affected by the death of Mufasa even though he knew her to be a very sensitive little. She was sad for Simba, of course, but not for Mufasa’s demise. Similarly with Lilo and Stitch, she didn’t care much about the concept of the family.

There was an actual barrier separating her from experiencing any positive feelings that came with the idea of family. Because she had none to associate with hers.

With some more research, Bucky managed to find a few animated movies that didn’t seem to revolve around the idea of family love and how family was everything and whatnot.

One of those movies was The Willoughbys. The movie depicted how neglecting some parents can be and that 2 people loving each other and getting married didn’t necessarily mean they would love their children too.

It was a very unique movie and Bucky was actually happy they could make such movies nowadays.

When the song I Choose You started playing in the movie, Bucky felt her small hand squeezing into a fist.

He silently wrapped his hand around hers, offering quiet comfort and support.

“Bucky chooses you, doll. Wholeheartedly.” Bucky reassured, bringing her knuckles to his lips.

He looked down to see tears in her innocent eyes as she showed her feelings for the first time during one of their movie nights.

“Bucky chooses me?” she croaked, lip trembling as she cried.

“I choose Bucky, too.” She pulled him down by one cheek to leave a kiss on the other.

Bucky froze.

It was the first time she’s kissed him since he applied that cream on her burnt hand back at his house. She did it on her own, too.

“And I choose Corgi,” she said, running her fingers through the hair of the puppy sleeping soundly on her lap.

“That’s right, and Corgi chooses you. Family doesn’t have to be the ones you were born with, doll,” Bucky told her as he wiped her tears away, “you can choose the family you want for yourself”.

“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him tight, afraid he might not be real and that this moment is all made up.

“You’re welcome, doll.” Bucky kissed the side of her head as they pulled away.

“Can I choose Adam, too?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper as she gauged Bucky’s reaction.

She could actually hear his chest rumble with a low “argh” before he nodded despite himself, making her giggle.

“Don’t worry. I only have one Bucky.” She reassured, slinging her arm around Bucky’s metal one.

One daddy, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. She was still scared.

~

Bucky knew that she needed her own independent time alone sometimes even when little, and he would allow her just that, texting throughout the day just to make sure she was okay, reminding her to drink water and take care of herself.

But there was one particularly hard weekend when she felt real down about some of her plants dying as the storm took them out of the ground.

When she opened the door she was clearly disheveled, hair all messy and looking like it hadn’t been brushed all week.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky spoke gently as he closed the door behind him.

She quickly ran into his arms, needing the comfort more than anything, “my plants are dead and Corgi peed on my new carpet and my hair doesn’t smell like shampoo anymore and I’m-”

Damn. She was spiraling. She just slipped out of his hug and on the floor. Oh no.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here now and I got you, okay?” Bucky tried his best to reassure her, getting on his knees before her to look into her eyes.

“Okay,” she hiccupped, nodding even though she wasn’t fully convinced.

“What happened to the plants?” Bucky wanted to handle her concerns one at a time.

“My apple trees were pulled out of place because of the storm,” she started sobbing again as she remembered what had happened to her hard word.

“Okay, okay, tell you what, I’ll put them back in place, okay?”

“Really?” She sniffed.

“Really.” Bucky smiled kindly.

“Okay.” She nodded, trying to control her breathing.

“And we’ll throw the new carpet in the washing machine, and keep Corgi in his playpen with pee pads,” Bucky gave her the steps of how the day was going to go, leading her by the hand to where Corgi was.

“Okay.” She nodded again, her tears ceasing.

“And while the carpet is being washed, I’ll help you wash your hair. Does that sound okay?” Bucky asked her permission, wanting to make sure she was completely comfortable.

“Yes.” She was finally smiling again as well.

“Okay, let’s get you in here,” Bucky told the puppy before placing him inside his playpen.

He spread a few sheets on which the dog could pee if needed before collecting the affected mat.

“Let’s take this to the washing machine,” Bucky voiced his movements, wanting to put her at ease as he kept her hand in his and walked with her to the bathroom.

“In you go.” Bucky threw the rug inside the washing machine along with some detergent.

“Now what do we do?” He asked her, wanting to keep her out of her head.

“Wash doll’s hair?” She asked with half a smile.

“That’s right, get in there.” Bucky tilted his head towards the bathtub with a smile.

~

And for some reason, it was different this time. He didn’t feel all weird seeing her naked. Maybe it was because he knew her better this time and was familiar with her in more ways than one that such intimacy didn’t startle him.

He wasn’t sure, but Bucky wasn’t complaining, only grateful as she closed her sweet eyes and trusted him to wash her hair for her.

“Alright, show me how it’s done,” Bucky encouraged, instructing her to whip her hair to the front so he could wrap the towel around it.

She did as told with a giggle, dangling her hair before her and letting Bucky wrap it up the best he could.

“Off to the couch.” Bucky chuckled as he watched her skip in her cashmere bathrobe to her couch.

Later after Bucky has brushed her hair for her, he helped her get dressed and they went outside together to replant the fallen apple saplings the wind had knocked down just like he'd promised.

The smile on her face was new and unmatched as she watched Bucky handle her plants with care.

“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him close, hardly wanting to let go as they stood in the middle of her garden.

Bucky was now rooted in her heart just like the plants in her garden were in their soil.

She didn’t think she could be away from him anymore. She didn’t want to be away from him anymore.

“Daddy, I’m hungry,” she whispered timidly as they started walking back to the house.

“What do you want on your piz- what did you say?” Bucky stopped in his tracks.

“I’m hungry.” She bit her lip and looked away quickly, hesitant now that his eyes were on her.

“Before that, doll.” Bucky brought her eyes back to his by her chin.

“D-daddy?”

Bucky smiled a smile that reached his eyes as they lit up with gratitude. He couldn’t believe he was finally hearing that word.

“Daddy’s thinking pizza, doll. Sound okay?”

Her face glowed up with her own smile as she witnessed Bucky, with full commitment, refer to himself as daddy.

She nodded, knowing this was going to be the most delicious pizza she was ever going to eat.

~

“What is daddy thinking?” She asked when she noticed his eyes on her, slipping a loose strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.

“Just thinking about all the things you make me feel, doll.” He smiled, turning his face to kiss her hand before it left his face.

Her face started heating up as she retracted her hand, tingles spreading all over her, “things like what?”

“You make me feel like there’s still good in this world. Like I’m worth patience and kindness and maybe even… love,” Bucky voiced his feelings, eyes dreamy as they watched her pretend to be focused on organizing her stuffies’ seats on the floor.

“You are, daddy,” she replied sincerely, hurting inside that Bucky might doubt this even a little.

“I can’t believe I was so horrible to you, doll.” Bucky’s sigh came out hot from his chest, holding so much regret.

“That’s in the past, daddy. Doll doesn’t think about it no more.” She smiled, her littler hand covering his own lovingly before giving a soothing squeeze.

“You’re just perfect, aren’t you?” Bucky held her hand up and gave the back of it a noisy kiss.

She laughed, face heating up more at the sweet attention, “no body’s perfect, remember?”

Bucky tried to continue laughing with her but he was still kicking himself for what he did to her during her visit to his house.

“How did you even tolerate me back then, doll? I was the worst.” Bucky covered his face with his hands as he threw his head back, laying on his back on the floor full of shame.

“That’s not true. You just misunderstood me and that happens!” She was quick to defend him, refusing the idea that he would even criticize himself, “daddy is the best.”

“I know, but it still gave me no right to treat you the way I did.” Bucky’s eyes teared up at the memories of his very mean words and actions, “I made you cry a lot.” He struggled to forgive himself for that one.

“Daddy, I forgave you, I swear,” she promised, her hands cradling his full cheeks.

She felt like her heart might stop from sadness if Bucky was to cry right now.

“I’m really sorry. I’m really really sorry, doll.” Bucky’s eyes were sincere, holding so much emotion in them that she felt her own begin to fill up with tears.

“Daddy, you don’t need to apologize no more,” she whispered, doing her best to hold back tears.

“You have made me the luckiest man on earth by accepting me as your caregiver, your daddy, and you’ve taught me so much, doll.” Bucky actually started crying, a lot of held-inside feelings coming out at once.

“Daddy.” Her thumb wiped under his eyes gently as she felt her own tears roll down, “don’t say stuff like that”.

“But I need to. Because you did. You taught me unconditional love and acceptance. You taught me what it means to live again. Doll, your patience with my terribleness has taught me that maybe I’m not a hopeless case after all, and that this shell of a man with a metal arm might be capable of things he thought have been wiped from his memory long ago.”

“Daddy, please stop crying,” she sobbed, pressing her forehead to his chin as her attempts at wiping his tears away have proven to be futile.

“I love you so much, doll. I love you with every old bit of me and if you’ll have me…”

“Daddy?” she raised her head, eyes on Bucky’s face, trying to read his expression.

Could Bucky really be asking what she thought he was asking?

“Doll, I want you to be my baby for more than just a few days. Would you give me that honor? Would you let me be your daddy for real?”

“Daddy, are you sure?” she nervously bit her lip.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything before.” Bucky promised.

She nodded frantically, afraid the offer might disappear if she took too long to respond, “yes.”

“Thank you, doll.” Bucky breathed as he pulled her to him, strong arms engulfing her in a protective hug.

“Daddy will not regret it later?” her eyes watched him, a small hint of doubt still tainting her trust.

“Do you like the moon, doll?”

“Yes.” She tilted her head, not understanding the relation between her question and Bucky’s answer.

“You know how our sky only has one moon?”

She nodded.

“My heart is just like that. It can only have one doll no matter how much time passes.”

“Oh.” She sniffled, trying to hold the tears in.

“I love you, doll.” Bucky gave her hair a long kiss.

“I love you, daddy.” She kissed his chest, her arms tightening their hold around him as best as she could, never wanting to be away from him again.

And she wasn’t going to be. Bucky was an idiot who let her go once; never again was he going to make that mistake.

He was blessed with her now and he was going to spend every day of his life proving he was worthy of this blessing.

~

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[serejae]

TAKE A CHANCE WITH ME | BND

WHAT ? - BND TRYING TO REKINDLE WHAT THEY HAD (P1)

WHEN ? - (warning) this is not a REAL display of the members im just doing this for weeping entertainment:) cursing

WHO ? - (a/n) i had a lot of mixed reactions whether to make a p2 or not but here we are!! i love niki sm

uncapitalization intended and not proofread

theres a theory that you will always meet the same person twice

P.SUNGHO ;

as soon as he turned around and made eye contact with you he knew he had a decision to make. either leave you alone or try and attempt to fix what you two had. and one thing Sungho didn't want to do was admit he didn't try when he had the chance to. he didn't care if his friends looked at him weirdly when he suddenly got up from the table and walked away. everything was a blur now, he didn't know what he was doing but his brain went on autopilot and took charge. when he finally stood in front of you he snapped back into reality, at this point your table had gone quiet as well. he stared at you and you stared back at him in silence.

"can we...uhm talk?" he said scratching the back of his neck as his voice died down with each word. to avoid the awkward situation your friends were in you just nodded and walked out of the bar with sungho. the first 3 seconds which felt like minutes were just of uncomfortable silence until he spoke up.

"i'm sorry, no i'm really sorry. i don't-

you were right that day that you left, that i didn't pull my weight and it was wrong of me to even get mad at you for wanting a healthy relationship but it was even worse of me to let you leave not knowing how much i love and value you. i'm not ask for forgiveness now or to be taken back i just want you to know that i realize how ashamed i am for how i acted that night and how i do love you

so much. "

he whispered that last part but you heard it clearly. "thank you for that, it's nice for peace of mind but this is a lot...i'll call you once i made up my mind" you said to which he nodded with a closed smile knowing he knows that you know he loves you (still)

L.RIWOO ;

he couldn't speak, if he did his first words would probably be tears. you spoke up to interrupt the silence. "here's...your things" you said to which he looked up at you, and he moved out of the way. you just stood there though not knowing what he meant "can you put it on the counter?" he asked quietly not wanting his voice to shake, you walked in put the box on the counter, and turned around ready to leave. you told yourself two things, drop the box and go. he held your shoulder, not in a rough way but rather in a desperate way. "don't you want your things?" he asked

shit. you forgot about that

"uh yeah," he emptied the box of his things and you picked it up walking into the bedroom. you walked into the closet and started putting your stuff in the box with your back facing him

"i'm sorry."

you freeze at his words, please don't do this riwoo.

"i took these last days to reflect upon myself and us and...i understand why you wanted to leave. i clearly wasn't healed and you didn't deserve to be treated like that, it was selfish of me to always blame you when it was really me. we both know I'm still not ready for a relationship but if your willing to

will you wait for me to heal?"

you turned to look at him and could see some remorse in his eyes

"i can try."

M. JAEHYUN ;

jaehyun couldn't do it anymore. he couldn't live his life normally as he did since there was no more you. he had to see you one more time

even if it meant it was the last time

jaehyun spent the whole week reciting the moment, what he would say what he would bring. what he would do. unfortunately for him, things weren't going according to plan, he had a last-minute online meeting and the only way he would make it to your favorite cafe and flower shop on time before they closed was if he arrived in the clothes he was wearing currently. a worn-out t-shirt and some sweatpants, he could've done it another day but today would've been your 1st anniversary if you had stayed together. he wanted to make it...special

after scrambling in the lines and traffic he had gotten the cafe goods and the flowers. so there he was at your door. he didn't know where his confidence went. so he just stood there, impulsively he knocked rather harshly and almost ran until he saw you open the door. it sounds dramatic but after 3 days he had forgotten your face, scent, and voice, he was just deprived of you. "yes jaehyun?" you asked

what happened to his week of planning?

why was he failing miserably now?

why was he about to cry a river?

"i miss you a lot." thats about all he was able to get out

"jaehyun we talked about why i had to leave"

"i cut her off! I promise! i'm sorry i didn't realize it sooner, i just thought that was normal but clearly it was not. one more chance please, I'll cut off anyone you want me too" he said on the verge of tears.

"it wasn't about cutting people off silly, i just wanted you to set some boundaries with her"

"i'm sorry i just let you leave before realizing how right you were about her and defending her so stupidly without seeing your side and now i understand how weird and wrong of me it was and i understand why you felt the way you felt. i'll set all the boundaries you want, we can just be friends i just need you back in my life"

you could tell by his eyes and tone that he was sincere with his words and was desperate to have you back

"lets start off fresh jaehyun"

H. TAESAN ;

taesan didn't know how to approach this. he didn't know whether to scream out his love for you or to do it simply, either way his mind was like a fish out of water without you, just spinny spin. he knew you weren't the type to forgive easily and he was okay with that, especially with how he treated you.

taesan was rather calm with his approach as he knew that he would have to do some groveling. he picked up flowers and a plush and knocked on your door. when you opened the door and saw who it was you closed it immediately, he expected it so he let out a deep sigh of disappointment and decided he'll try again tomorrow. as he picked up his head and was about to turn he felt water on his face, he stood there shocked for a second before realizing what you were doing. you were spraying him with water to punish him, when you stopped he opened his eyes to see your barely visible smirk. you spray him one last time before closing the door. he stood there trying to process everything before you opened the door again for the third time, except much calmer

"how can i help you?"

he stared at you drenched "i'm sorry for just letting you go like that, i should've valued you more-"

"restart"

"what?"

"you heard me"

"i'm sorry for hurting-"

"i will spray you again"

"I'm sorry for being a asshole and not realizing how much you meant to me before you actually left. I'm sorry for taking so long to realize that i love you and you were actually all i needed on those days i shut everyone out. I'll work on communication but i do trust you and do want to tell you everything i feel."

he was going to speak again until he felt another spray of water on his face, wiping away the water he could see your smile now

"come inside, you have a lot of explaining to do"

K.LEEHAN ;

after losing you leehan stopped craving the attention of anyone else but you. he stopped going to areas he knew would attract his fangirls. one of the places he avoided most was parties despite his friends still inviting him. this one day he felt it in his gut to go. he didn't know what would happen but he knew it needed to happen. there just so happened to be a party that day.

after he had gotten ready he pep-talked himself in the mirror and gave himself on last look before leaving. at the party, his friends were hyped that he finally came to one in months. his friend brought him over to the balcony to talk and he saw that there were no one there besides 2 people standing against the railing. his friend stood against the railing and was talking, to which leehan didn't pay much attention to until his friend caught a glimpse of the other person standing at the balcony and excused himself to go catch up with this person leaving leehan and one other person. he looked over and caught a quick glimpse before taking a double take.

it was you. you looked over too and smiled warmly before looking back.

he may be delusional but this had to be his gut feeling.

"i haven't seen you at these parties lately" you spoke up playing with your nails

"yeah, i just didn't want to go" he said scratching the back of his head "after our..." he continued

"i know, i know" you quietly laughed

"I'm really sorry, you know?" he started while looking over at you he saw you look at him and got that feeling in his stomach. this was definitely his gut feeling

"over these months i took time to reflect and set my priorities straight and understood how not okay it was to just treat you like that. you mean more to me than anything and i was too busy being satisfied with proving to myself that you loved me when in reality i didn't have to make you go through all of that." he felt you grab his wrist and looked up at you, he saw you look over and turned to see where you were looking. both of your guy's friends returned with their mouths dropped at what they had heard

you looked over at leehan "lets go on a walk yeah"

he nodded with a smirk on his face

K. WOONHAK ;

woonhak was particularly sulky today, he couldn't get you and your relationship out of his mind. i mean he couldn't daily but today it was just more extreme.

to clear his mind he decided to go for a walk, as he walks he noticed a figure walking towards him on their phone. as the blurry figure got closer he realized its you

as you almost walked past him he gasped when his suspicions were confirmed. you looked up because of the rather loud gasp and realized who it was.

"yn!" he said instinctively grabbing your hand into his and in return, you grab his back. "please just 5 minutes, you don't have to take me back i just need to explain myself.

you stare at him for a second before nodding and continuing to walk. he may have let out a little 'yipee! ^-^' but he ran to catch up to you and wasted no time

-

closure

sense of peace

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Let Me Love You (Eddie Munson)

Summary: Eddie fucked up, and he thinks you wont love him anymore.

WC: 740ish

Read on Ao3!

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The silence in the trailer was thick, hanging heavy as a storm on the verge of breaking. You sat on the edge of Eddie’s bed, your knees drawn up close to your chest, arms wrapped around them as you tried to ground yourself. Outside, the rain beat down on the thin walls of the trailer, each droplet drumming a nervous heartbeat in the background.

Eddie stood in front of you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, fidgeting with the many rings on his fingers, his hair hanging like a dark curtain around his face. He kept his gaze down, almost as if he were afraid that if he looked you in the eye, he’d lose his resolve. He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising with it, but still, no words came.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know I messed up."

You looked up, and the pain in his eyes mirrored your own. "Yeah, you did."

He winced, running a hand through his hair, tugging on the ends in that way he did when he was feeling desperate. "I don’t know why… why I always feel the need to push you away when things get too close. When things get good." His voice was raw, as if every syllable hurt. "I know it doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. I don’t know what’s wrong with me."

Eddie’s eyes found yours, pleading, hoping for understanding that he didn’t deserve, for forgiveness that he hadn’t earned.

You wanted to say something sharp, to remind him that he’d hurt you, that he’d left you wondering if any of the moments you’d shared meant anything to him at all. But there was an ache in your heart that softened your anger, that made your words come out gentle instead of harsh.

"You know, Eddie…" you started, your voice soft but steady. "I love you. I’ve loved you even when you’re a stubborn, difficult mess of a person. Even when you make me feel like this, like you’re holding me at arm’s length and breaking my heart all at once. But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep waiting for you to let me in, only for you to shut me out again."

He reached out then, his hands hovering near yours, uncertain, as if he thought he didn’t have the right to touch you anymore. "I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot, I know. But I’m trying, okay? I… I don’t know how to love someone like you. Someone who actually… cares about me." His voice broke at the end, and for the first time, you saw the vulnerability in him, the fear that lay behind his walls.

Taking his hands in yours, you looked up at him. "I need you to mean it this time, Eddie. I need you to say it, and I need to believe it."

He took a shuddering breath, as if he were bracing himself for a leap off a cliff. "I love you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. But then, he said it again, stronger, as if he were willing the words to be true, to feel true, even if he didn’t think he deserved them. "I love you, alright? I love you more than I know how to say."

You closed your eyes, letting the words settle over you, feeling the warmth in his voice as he said them. There was still a part of you that wanted to guard your heart, to keep a piece of yourself protected in case he left again. But this was Eddie, and despite everything, you loved him enough to take that risk.

"Can I hear you tell me you love me again?" you whispered, your own voice trembling with the weight of the moment.

He let out a shaky laugh, pulling you closer, his forehead resting against yours. "I’ll say it as many times as you need," he murmured, his hands finally settling on your waist, holding you close as if he were afraid you’d vanish. "I love you. I’m yours, okay? If you’ll still have me."

You pressed a hand to his cheek, letting your fingers trace the line of his jaw. "I’ll always have you, Eddie. But don’t make me regret it."

And for the first time in a long time, as he wrapped his arms around you, you felt like you were where you belonged.

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