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brunchable · 7 months ago

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The Marriage Bet

Pairings: Best Friend Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Themes: A bet. A bit of comedy but mostly fluff and Bucky treating his woman right ;)

Summary: If in three years time both of you were still single, you will marry your best friend, Bucky. That's the bet.

A/N: For those of you who voted for 'Calm Down, Dad Mode' I've added it to this story. This has got to be my favorite fluff FML. Also let me TELL YOU, the cravings in pregnancy and the emotions are real because I lived it lmao. PART 2

Three Years Ago

"You know what we should do?” Bucky said out of the blue, his gaze fixed on you with a seriousness that made your stomach flip. The two of you had been lounging on his couch for hours, talking about everything and nothing. It was a lazy night filled with laughter, shared memories, and the kind of comfortable silence only you and Bucky knew how to savour.

You glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“If we’re still single in three years… let’s get married,” he announced, as if it was the most logical suggestion in the world. His tone was light, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes that made it clear he wasn’t joking.

You stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge if he was serious. “Bucky, have you lost your mind?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug, his lips twitching up into that familiar smirk that made your heart skip. “But think about it. No more crappy dates, no more getting your heart broken by idiots who don’t deserve you. Just us. You and me. We already know each other’s worst habits, and we get along. It’d be a good marriage.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You make it sound like we’re signing up for a business merger.”

He laughed at that, the sound deep and genuine. “Maybe. But at least you’d know you’re stuck with someone who’s never going to walk out on you. Someone who’d fight for you.”

The way he said it made your throat tighten, and for a second, you allowed yourself to picture it. A life with Bucky, the two of you navigating the ups and downs together. No more failed relationships, no more loneliness. Just the comfort and security of someone who knew you better than anyone else.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” you murmured, still stunned by the idea.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah, I am. So, what do you say?”

You hesitated for just a beat, then broke into a grin. “Deal, Barnes. If we’re still single in three years, I’ll marry your crazy ass.”

He grinned back, his hand shooting out to seal the promise with a firm handshake. But as your fingers clasped around his, the energy between you shifted — playful and yet, inexplicably serious.

“Deal,” he echoed softly, a knowing look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.

× × × ×

Present

You leaned against the railing of the rooftop, your eyes skimming over the city lights below as the faint notes of Taylor Swift’s break-up songs filled the air. You and Bucky had been up here for hours, talking and drinking, the night air crisp against your skin.

It had been a rough few months for you — the breakup still felt fresh, the sting of rejection and disappointment lingering. But being here with Bucky made it easier. He had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like everything would be okay, even when it didn’t seem that way.

“Y’know, you’re the best,” you murmured, your words slurred slightly from the champagne. “I mean it, Buck. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiled softly, his gaze warm as he watched you. “Good thing you don’t have to find out, huh?”

You nodded, letting out a sigh as you turned back to the view. “Still, I feel like… I don’t know. Like I’m destined to be alone or something.”

“That’s not true,” he said quietly, setting his glass down and turning to face you fully. “And you know it.”

You shrugged, glancing over at him. “Yeah, well, sometimes it feels like it. Everyone I’ve ever dated just—”

You stopped mid-sentence as Bucky suddenly shifted, reaching into his pocket. Your eyes widened as he pulled out a small blue velvet box and, without hesitation, flipped it open. The soft light of the rooftop glinted off the 1.5-carat diamond ring nestled inside — simple, elegant, and undeniably breathtaking.

“What’s that?” you asked, your breath catching in your throat.

Bucky arched an eyebrow, giving you a pointed look. “An engagement ring, Y/N. What else?”

“Yeah, I know it’s a ring!” you sputtered, your mind reeling. “But why—how—what are you doing with it?”

Bucky sighed, muttering under his breath, “For someone so smart, she really can’t see what’s right in front of her.”

You barely had time to process the words before he got up from his sitting position and slowly knelt down on one knee. The movement made your heart jump into your throat, your breath hitching as he looked up at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.

“I want to marry you, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm and sure. “Not because of some bet or joke we made all those years ago, but because… I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be the one you come home to. The one who makes you laugh when you’re sad. The one who fights for you.”

You felt your chest tighten as the weight of his words sank in, the sincerity in his voice making it almost impossible to breathe. “Bucky… this is—”

“I know this is crazy,” he continued, cutting you off gently, his gaze never leaving yours. “But when have we ever been normal, huh? I’m not asking you to feel something you don’t or to change anything between us. But I am a man of my word, and I’m keeping the promise we made.”

Your mind raced, memories of that night flashing through your mind — the promise, the shared laughter, the way he’d looked at you back then as if you were the only thing that mattered. And now, here he was, years later, kneeling in front of you with an engagement ring, ready to turn that promise into something real.

He took a deep breath, his hand trembling slightly as he held out the ring, his expression almost pleading. “So… will you marry me? Not because you feel like you have to, but because you want to?”

You stared down at him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. The world seemed to fade away, the only thing anchoring you being his blue eyes, filled with nothing but hope and determination.

“Well? Say something, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper now. “Because I’m dying here.”

You let out a breathless laugh, the tears welling in your eyes spilling over as you shook your head in disbelief.

“You’re really going all out, huh?” you teased, “Getting down on one knee and everything… how could I say no to a man with such dedication?”

Bucky blinked, caught off guard, and then let out a soft laugh of his own. “Is that a yes, or are you just stalling to make me sweat more?”

You glanced at the ring, then back at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “I guess… if I have to be stuck with someone for the rest of my life… it might as well be you.”

“Yes,” you added quickly, your smile widening as you looked at him with all the warmth and affection you felt. “Of course it’s a yes, you idiot!”

Relief washed over his face, his grin so wide it could’ve lit up the entire rooftop. “You really know how to keep a guy on edge, don’t you?”

“Gotta keep things interesting,” you replied with a laugh, reaching out to brush your fingers against his cheek. “I can’t make it too easy for you.”

His chuckle was deep and genuine, the tension melting from his shoulders as he slipped the ring onto your finger, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can be so mean you know that?”

“Mean?” you scoffed, giving him a playful look of disbelief. “You’re proposing to me, remember? I’m just making sure you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into.”

Bucky shook his head, laughter bubbling up in his chest. “Oh, I know. And I’m still all in, even if you make me work for it.”

You grinned, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Bucky didn’t hesitate, his arms coming up to hold you close, his chin resting gently on top of your head. The warmth of his body against yours, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

Slowly, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your chin resting on his chest as your eyes locked with his. The sound of the music drifted softly through the air, wrapping around you both like an embrace.

You could see the tenderness in his gaze, the way his eyes softened as he looked down at you. There was something indescribable in the way he held you, his hands warm and secure against your back, as if he never wanted to let go.

“You know,” you murmured softly, a small smile playing on your lips, “I completely forgot about that bet.”

Bucky’s lips quirked up at the corners as he started to sway gently, rocking you both back and forth in time with the music.

“Yeah? Good thing I haven’t.” he agreed quietly, his voice low and filled with something that made your heart flutter.

You let out a content sigh, closing your eyes for a moment as you swayed together under the soft glow of the rooftop lights, the melody of the song weaving its way into your soul. There was a peace, a sense of rightness in the way his hands rested on your waist, the way your fingers curled into his shirt.

Opening your eyes, you tilted your head slightly, the corners of your lips curving up into a playful smile. “I’m really going to make you regret this, you know.”

He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing gently against your side as he gazed down at you. “Doubt it. But you’re welcome to try, sweetheart—I mean what else could I possibly not know about you?”

Your smile widened as you looked up at him, chin resting on his chest. “Oh, you’ll find out. Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean I’m not full of surprises.”

Bucky’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against your temple. “Good. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Just remember you asked for it,” you teased, your voice soft as your fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt. “You’re the one who’s committing to a lifetime of never quite knowing what I’ll do next.”

“Yeah?” he murmured, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again, a smile playing on his own. “I guess I like keeping things interesting, too.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest, and you felt the tension melt away as you both swayed gently to the music. It felt like a new beginning — a promise that whatever came next, you’d be facing it together.

× × × ×

A few months later.

The garden was alive with soft laughter and murmurs as the afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves. The air was filled with the delicate scent of roses and jasmine, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided the perfect backdrop for the small, intimate gathering of friends.

Bucky stood under the floral archway, his suit somehow both perfectly fitted and slightly askew in that way only Bucky could pull off. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his fingers drumming absently on his thigh. When you turned the corner, your eyes met his, and you couldn’t help but smile at the exaggerated sigh of relief he let out.

“Thank God you showed up,” he teased, his voice carrying over the gentle breeze. “Thought I’d have to marry Sam instead.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you made your way down the short aisle, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest. “Yeah, yeah, keep it up, Barnes. He’d leave you at the altar, you know.”

Bucky grinned, his shoulders relaxing as you stepped up to him. “True. He couldn’t handle my morning breath.”

The officiant cleared his throat gently, drawing soft chuckles from your friends. Bucky’s gaze stayed locked on yours, a playful twinkle in his eyes as if you were sharing a private joke no one else could understand.

“You ready for this?” he murmured softly, his tone light but his smile genuine.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, giving him a small nod.

The ceremony was simple and sweet, with your closest friends standing in a loose circle around you, their smiles reflecting the joy and camaraderie that had always defined your relationship with Bucky.

When it came time for the vows, Bucky cleared his throat dramatically, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.

“I’m not good at this stuff,” he began, waving the paper around, “so I wrote it down. Just so I don’t forget the important parts. Like promising I won’t eat your fries without asking.”

You let out a snort, shaking your head. “So that’s why you’re marrying me? For my fries?”

“Partly,” Bucky said with a wink, earning a few laughs from your friends. “But seriously… I promise to always be your partner in crime. To watch bad movies with you, to be your go-to plus-one for all those events you hate, and to be the one you can call at 3 a.m. when the world feels like too much.”

His voice softened slightly, his gaze never wavering from yours. “I promise to be your best friend, to listen, and to support you. And yeah, to not eat your fries — unless you’re not looking.”

You chuckled, blinking back the unexpected prickle of tears. “Damn, Barnes. Setting the bar high for husband material, aren’t you?”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” he replied with a smirk.

When it was your turn, you took a deep breath, glancing down at your own slightly crumpled paper. “Bucky, I promise to keep being your reality check, to make sure you don’t take yourself too seriously. I promise to help you with your crazy woodworking projects, even when you refuse to read the instructions. And I promise to be your partner in all things — the weird, the good, and the unpredictable.”

Bucky’s grin softened into a small, genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I think we’re gonna be pretty good at this whole marriage thing.”

“I think so too,” you murmured back.

The officiant’s voice broke through the quiet moment, his smile warm. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Bucky, you may now—”

“Wait,” Bucky interrupted, holding up a hand as he turned to you, his expression half-serious, half-teasing. “Can I kiss you?”

You blinked, surprised. “What?”

“You know,” he said, shrugging a shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “This is technically our first kiss. I want to get it right. So… how do you like it?”

A burst of laughter escaped you, the tension in your shoulders melting away as the sheer Bucky-ness of the question made you grin. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Come on, humor me,” he pressed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Slow? Gentle? Or should I just go for it?”

You shook your head, still laughing softly. “Just… kiss me, you goof.”

Bucky grinned, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Alright, Mrs. Barnes,” he said softly, leaning in. “I’ll make it good.”

His grin widened and shifts a little closer to you, Bucky dipped his head and you felt your noses brush. His breath is on your lips, and you quiver a bit at the odd sensation. Without another moment to spare you realise that he's pressing his lips to yours—it was nothing like you’d expected. His hand slipped to the small of your back, drawing you closer, his eyes fully closed. Bucky was concentrating on the kiss, and you realised that your eyes were wide open. Slowly you close them, hiding away your brilliant orbs.

Bucky’s lips are oddly doft in this kiss and it stays slow and sweet. He wrapped his arm around you more, lifting you slightly off your feet. The veil fluttered around you like a soft cocoon, and then everything disappeared as his mouth moved insync with you, his kiss remained slowly, his mouth molding against yours in a way that made your knees weak.

His fingers gently tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing softly along your cheekbone as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.

But then he shifted, tilting your head just slightly as he deepened the kiss, his hold around you tightening. It was then that you felt him let go completely — every barrier, every wall he’d kept up around himself crumbling as he poured everything into that kiss.

Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the faint cheers and whistles of your friends—Sam being the most obnoxious—but it all felt like background noise. It was just you and Bucky, wrapped up in this kiss that felt like it had been building up for years. His lips slid over yours with a kind of sweet intensity, a silent confession of everything he hadn’t said — of everything he didn’t know how to say.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting gently against yours, both of you were breathless, hearts pounding in unison. He didn’t let go, his arms still wrapped around you as if you might disappear if he loosened his grip.

A soft cheer went up from your friends—Sam being the most obvious— and Bucky’s grin turned almost smug. “How was that?”

You let out a shaky laugh, your hands clutching his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself. “Yeah, Buck. I think you got it just right.”

“Good,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours for a long, lingering moment before his smile widened into something boyish and relieved. “Just wanted to make sure.”

“Don’t worry,” you teased gently, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You’re not getting rid of me after a kiss like that.”

Bucky’s laugh was soft, his nose brushing against yours. “Guess I should keep practicing, huh?”

You nodded, your grin matching his. “Yeah. Keep practicing, Barnes.”

And as he pulled you in for another kiss, slower and just as sweet as the first, you knew that this — all of this — was exactly how it was meant to be.

× × × ×

1.5 years later

You were pacing back and forth in the bathroom, your heart hammering in your chest. Every few seconds, your eyes would dart to the three little sticks sitting ominously on the edge of the sink — three white, plastic harbingers of potential chaos.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you whispered frantically to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as if willing the tests to disappear — or at least show some clarity.

How did it come to this? You were supposed to be life partners — partners in crime, best friends — no strings attached, no expectations. Just two people who promised to be there for each other. Sure, you got married, but it was all because of the bet. A way to keep each other from loneliness, you both said. Nothing more, right?

Except somewhere along the line, late-night talks had turned into stolen kisses. Comforting hugs had turned into tangled limbs. And now… this.

“Oh my god, he’s going to flip,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the still-blank screens on the tests. “This isn’t how we were supposed to—”

“Supposed to what?”

You jumped about a foot in the air, letting out a small squeak of surprise as Bucky’s voice filled the bathroom. You whipped around, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest as you spotted him leaning casually against the doorframe, an amused smirk on his lips.

“Bucky! Don’t—don’t just sneak up on people like that!” you stammered, instinctively shuffling over to the sink to block his view.

His smirk widened. “I didn’t sneak. You’re just too distracted, sweetheart.” He pushed off the doorframe, crossing his arms as he stepped closer. “What’s going on in here?”

“Nothing!” you squeaked, your voice a little too high-pitched.

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh-huh. So, you’re just hanging out in the bathroom, talking to yourself?”

“Yes!” you answered quickly, nodding like a bobblehead. “Yep, just a totally normal conversation with… myself. Very productive.”

He eyed you, suspicion etched all over his face. “Uh-huh. And why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“I don’t!” you lied, crossing your arms over your chest as if that could somehow shield you from his scrutiny.

Bucky took another step closer, his gaze flicking over your shoulder. “Then why are you standing like that?”

You moved subtly, trying to casually scoot to the left, but your back hit the edge of the sink. “Like what?”

“Like you’re hiding something,” he said, leaning down slightly to look your directly in the eyes. “What’s behind you, Y/N?”

“Nothing!” you insisted, but your hand twitched involuntarily, knocking into one of the sticks. It clattered onto the counter, bouncing once before rolling to a stop right at Bucky’s feet.

You froze.

Bucky’s eyes flicked down to the test, and his entire expression shifted — from curiosity to confusion to wide-eyed realization.

“Wait… is that a—?”

“No!” you yelped, diving forward to snatch up the stick and hide it behind your back. You stood there, breathing heavily, your face flushed with a mix of panic and embarrassment.

Bucky’s gaze slid back to you, his lips quirking into an incredulous smile. “Y/N, are those… pregnancy tests?”

You glanced around desperately, as if you could conjure up some kind of diversion to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Uh… no? Maybe?”

“Sweetheart…” Bucky stepped around your easily, and in one quick motion, he plucked the other two tests off the sink. He held them up, his eyes wide and eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline. “There are three.”

“Yeah, well… you know, the first one could be a fluke, and the second one too, and…” you trailed off, wincing at how ridiculous you sounded.

Bucky blinked, then let out a bark of laughter. “Three tests, huh? You’re nothing if not thorough.”

“Bucky!” you hissed, mortification washing over you. “This isn’t funny!”

“Maybe not,” he admitted, though his lips were still twitching with amusement. “But you’re freaking out over here, hiding them like I wasn’t gonna notice.”

“I wasn’t freaking out!” you lied, folding your arms across your chest again. “I was just… assessing the situation.”

He raised an eyebrow, waving one of the tests in front of your face. “Assessing, huh? And what’s the situation, then?”

You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know, okay? I haven’t looked at them yet!”

There was a beat of silence. Then—

“Wait, you haven’t looked?” Bucky’s voice was filled with genuine disbelief. “You’ve been pacing around in here, stressing yourself out, and you haven’t even checked?”

“I’m not ready!” you snapped defensively. “I mean… what if they’re positive?”

Bucky’s grin softened into something more genuine, and he stepped forward, gently cupping your cheek. “Then they’re positive.”

Your eyes met his, the sincerity and calmness in his gaze making some of your panic ebb away. “But we’re not even— I mean, this was supposed to be—”

“A bet?” he finished softly, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. “Yeah. I remember. But bets don’t always go the way you plan.”

You swallowed hard, your heart still hammering wildly. “You’re not… mad?”

“Mad?” he repeated, his expression incredulous. “Why the hell would I be mad? I mean, sure, this is unexpected. But mad?” He shook his head, chuckling softly. “C’mon, Y/N. You really think I’d be mad about having a family with you?”

The words made your heart stutter, and you stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Bucky…”

“Let’s just see what they say, alright?” he murmured gently, stepping back and nodding toward the tests. “No more freaking out until we know.”

With trembling hands, you turned each test over, your breath hitching as you looked at the results.

Positive.

Bucky’s grin had barely faded before the reality of the situation seemed to really hit him this time. His gaze drifted back to the three tests lined up on the sink, and you watched as his face slowly drained of colour.

“Bucky?” you asked cautiously, noticing the way his grip on your arm loosened slightly.

He blinked, his eyes darting between you and the tests like he was trying to solve some impossible puzzle. “So, uh… positive. All three?”

You nodded slowly, worry beginning to creep back in. “Yeah, Buck. All three.”

“Oh… Oh, wow,” he muttered, his eyes widening. “That’s… that’s a lot of positive.”

“Bucky—”

“I mean, I knew one was a lot, but three—positives?” he rambled, swaying slightly on his feet. “That’s… that’s a whole lot of… baby.”

“Bucky, are you okay?” you asked, reaching out to steady him as his face turned even paler.

“I’m—yeah, I just—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes rolling back slightly as his knees buckled.

“Bucky!” you shouted, grabbing for him as he crumpled to the floor in a faint.

You managed to catch his weight just enough to keep him from completely knocking his head on the tiles, though it took every ounce of strength you had to keep him semi-upright.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” you huffed, looking down at his unconscious form with a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You’re the one who said you’d be fine with this!”

He let out a soft, incoherent groan, his head lolling to the side as you carefully lowered him all the way to the ground and raised his legs above his head for bloodflow.

“Of course you’d faint, you big drama queen,” you muttered, crouching down beside him and lightly patting his cheeks. “Come on, Buck. Wake up. I’m not doing this alone, you hear me?”

After a few more pats and murmured reassurances, his eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked up at you, dazed and confused.

“Y/N?” he mumbled, his voice slurred. “What… what happened?”

“You fainted, you big idiot,” you said, the frustration in your tone softened by the overwhelming relief that he was okay. “Over three little tests.”

Bucky stared at you blankly, then his gaze drifted back to the sink where the tests still sat in a neat row, mocking him with their tiny positive signs.

“Oh… right,” he murmured, his face scrunching up as he tried to process it all again. “So it wasn’t a dream?”

“Nope.” You shook your head, giving him a half-smile. “Definitely not a dream.”

“Damn,” he breathed, a small, disbelieving laugh escaping him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I really fainted, huh?”

“Yeah, you did,” you replied, unable to keep the amusement out of your voice. “And you’re lucky I didn’t let you hit your head.”

He chuckled weakly, his gaze still lingering on the tests. Then, slowly, he reached up, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently.

“I love you, Y/N, you know that?” he mumbled, his voice soft and a little slurred as he still looked dazed. “Not like a friend, but y’know… like, love love.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the sudden confession. A laugh bubbled up in your throat, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting you all over again. “Bucky, you’re still out of it.”

“Yeah, probably,” he murmured, blinking up at you with a lopsided grin. “But doesn’t make it any less true.”

Shaking your head, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, your smile softening. “I know, Buck. We’ll talk about that later when you’re not busy fainting over pregnancy tests, okay?”

“’Kay,” he mumbled, his eyelids drooping slightly. “But just… so you know.”

“I know,” you repeated gently, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “Just rest for a second, and then we’ll figure this all out together.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes drifting shut for a moment before he opened them again, looking at you with a sleepy smile. “We’re really gonna be parents, huh?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, your heart swelling with affection. “We really are.”

“Cool,” he murmured, his head lolling back against the bathroom tiles. “Love you, Y/N… love love.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you sat beside him, holding his hand. “Love you too, Bucky. Now, no more fainting, okay?”

“No promises,” he mumbled, but his grip tightened around your hand, as if even in his half-conscious state, he didn’t want to let go.

And as you sat there on the bathroom floor, Bucky still looking a little woozy but smiling up at you with that goofy, endearing grin, you couldn’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — everything was going to be just fine.

× × × ×

First Trimester.

The clock on the kitchen wall glowed a soft, accusatory 2:37 a.m. as Bucky shuffled groggily into the dimly lit space, scratching at his head. He was half-asleep, dressed in rumpled sweatpants and a t-shirt that had seen better days, and still trying to figure out why he’d been dragged from his warm bed.

He paused mid-step when he spotted you sitting at the kitchen table, your shoulders hunched, face buried in your hands. He blinked, his brain struggling to catch up with the situation. “Uh, sweetheart… what’s going on?”

Your only response was a pitiful sniffle, followed by another one. Bucky’s brows shot up in alarm, and he quickly moved to your side, crouching down in front of you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, peering up at you with wide, concerned eyes. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head, letting out a small, hiccuping sob. “I… I really wanted… chocolate chip pancakes… with whipped cream and strawberries…”

Bucky blinked again, glancing around the empty kitchen as if he expected a stack of pancakes to magically appear on the counter. “Okay… uh… we don’t have any of that stuff right now, but I can go to the store—”

“Everything’s closed!” you wailed, cutting him off with a fresh wave of tears. “And I really wanted it now!”

The sheer devastation in your voice made Bucky’s heart clench in sympathy — but a very tiny, very unhelpful part of him also found it hilariously absurd. He had fought aliens, Hydra agents, and all manner of nightmares… but he’d never faced down a pregnant wife in the throes of a pancake craving at nearly 3 a.m.

“Oh,” he said lamely, scratching his head again as he tried to think of a solution that didn’t involve breaking into the nearest IHOP. “Okay, um… we can make pancakes without chocolate chips, right?”

“But I don’t want plain pancakes!” you cried, your voice wobbling dangerously. “I want chocolate chip pancakes! And… and I want whipped cream on top, but we don’t have any!”

Bucky swallowed, his panic rising as you continued to cry. He was the Winter Soldier, damn it. He could handle this. There had to be a way out of this. “Okay, alright. Just breathe, okay? How about… uh… what if I make you some toast? I’ll put some Nutella on it? It’s kind of like chocolate.”

“It’s not the same!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands again. “I want… pancakes…”

Bucky let out a helpless laugh, running a hand down his face as he glanced at the empty fridge like it was somehow betraying him. “Baby, you’re killing me here.”

You sniffled, peeking out from between your fingers with watery eyes. “You don’t understand, Buck. I can taste the pancakes. I can taste the strawberries… I can feel the whipped cream…”

Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it again, at a complete loss for words. “Yeah, uh, I can’t pull that out of thin air. But…” He glanced around, his gaze falling on a tub of vanilla ice cream in the freezer. “What if I make you a sundae? It’s kinda like a pancake… just cold.”

“No…” You shook your head, another tear rolling down your cheek. “It’s not pancakes…”

Bucky let out a long, dramatic sigh, his hands resting on his knees. “Okay, okay. Here’s the deal. Tomorrow morning, I’m gonna wake up, and I’m going to go get you all the chocolate chips and whipped cream and strawberries you want, alright? I’ll make a pancake buffet.”

“But I want it now,” you murmured miserably, rubbing at your eyes.

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he cooed gently, reaching out to pat your head awkwardly. “But unless you want me to bust into some diner and get myself arrested, I’m gonna need you to hang in there for a few more hours.”

Your lips trembled, and you nodded reluctantly, sniffling again. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

Bucky smiled softly, his heart melting a little. “Nah. You’re growing a tiny human.” Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added, “Although, I gotta say, if I can handle your craving meltdowns, I think I deserve some kind of medal. Or at least, like… superhero husband status.”

A small, watery laugh escaped you despite yourself, and Bucky’s smile widened triumphantly.

“There she is,” he murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to your temple. “Look, we can’t have pancakes right now, but how about we get creative? Maybe I can whip something up with what we do have? I’m talking PB&J sandwich sculptures. Or,” he gasped dramatically, “a waffle made out of popcorn!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, but the corners of your mouth twitched. “Popcorn waffles?”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he said with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “This could be a revolutionary invention, Y/N. We could change the breakfast game forever.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, wiping at your tears as Bucky’s ridiculousness slowly chased away the lingering sadness. “You’re such a weirdo, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you married me,” he shot back, a grin spreading across his face. “So who’s the real weirdo?”

“Still you,” you teased softly, shaking your head.

Bucky let out a mock gasp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow, so rude. No respect for the man who’s about to go MacGyver your snack cravings at 3 a.m.”

You smiled despite yourself, reaching out to take his hand. “Thank you, Buck.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmured, squeezing your hand gently. “Now, what do you say we get a little creative in this kitchen and see if we can’t make something that’ll make these pancake cravings shut up for a bit?”

“Okay,” you agreed, the warmth of his hand in yours grounding you. “But I’m holding you to that pancake buffet tomorrow morning.”

“Pancake buffet with extra chocolate chips, whipped cream, and strawberries,” he promised with a mock salute. “You’ve got my word.”

And as Bucky scoured the pantry for the weirdest possible combinations — “How do you feel about a peanut butter, banana, and potato chip sandwich?” — you couldn’t help but laugh, the weight of your cravings lightening in the face of his relentless optimism and willingness to do whatever it took to make you smile.

“World’s best husband,” you murmured fondly as he started arranging sandwich slices into a goofy face.

“Damn right,” he replied with a wink, holding up the plate proudly. “And this? This is my masterpiece.”

You took one look at the ridiculous sandwich sculpture — a lopsided smile made from pickle slices and a beard of crumbled crackers — and the tears came flooding back, but this time they were unstoppable.

“Bucky… you’re… you’re the best husband… in the world!” you sobbed, your shoulders shaking as you buried your face in your hands.

“Whoa, whoa, wait—hold on!” Bucky stammered, his eyes widening in alarm as he quickly set the plate down and moved back to your side. “What… why are you crying? Sweetheart, it’s just a sandwich! A really ugly sandwich, but—”

You let out another wail, shaking your head as more tears spilled over. “No, it’s not that! It’s you! You’re just so—so good, and sweet, and—and I don’t deserve you!”

Bucky froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Wait, what? Where did that come from?” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around as if he expected someone to pop out with a manual for how to handle this. “Hey, you deserve everything, okay? Even pancakes at 3 a.m. if I could make it happen.”

“I just… you’re always trying so hard, and you’re just… you’re amazing,” you whimpered, reaching out to grab his hand like it was a lifeline. “And I’m crying because I can’t have pancakes, and I’m a mess, and you’re making me a weird pickle-beard sandwich…”

Bucky stared at you, completely lost, before he finally let out a helpless, incredulous laugh. “Okay, okay, I’m officially out of my depth here,” he muttered, gently pulling you into his arms and patting your back awkwardly. “But hey, let’s save the compliments for when I’m not half-asleep, yeah?”

You nodded miserably against his chest, your sobs starting to subside as his steady heartbeat grounded you.

“Good, because you’re gonna make me cry if you keep this up,” he joked softly, running a soothing hand through your hair. “And no one wants to see the Winter Soldier ugly-cry over a pancake buffet.”

You let out a watery giggle at that, sniffling as you pulled back to look up at him. “You’re really gonna get me all the pancakes tomorrow?”

“Every last one,” he promised, his smile gentle and reassuring. “Now come on, let’s see if we can make this popcorn waffle thing work. You’ll need to tell our kid one day that their mom ate the weirdest thing ever while pregnant,” Bucky finished with a grin, his hand sliding down to gently cup your cheek as he wiped away the lingering tears with his thumb. “That way, when they give us a hard time as teenagers, I can say, ‘Hey, kid, I made your mom a popcorn waffle at 3 a.m. She bettered have loved me.’”

You laughed again, hiccupping through the tears as you tried to calm yourself. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

Bucky shrugged, his lips twitching up into a lopsided smile. “Maybe. But you married me, so what does that say about you?”

“That I’m a glutton for punishment,” you teased softly, feeling some of the tension start to ease as his thumb continued its gentle, comforting strokes on your cheek.

“Or just smart enough to know when you’ve got a good thing,” he murmured back, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “And I’m gonna keep being that good thing — even when it means making bizarre snacks and wrangling your tears at stupid o’clock in the morning.”

You let out a shaky breath, smiling up at him as you looped your arms around his neck. “I love you, Bucky.”

His eyes softened, his gaze locking onto yours as he leaned in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “I love you too, sweetheart. And we’re gonna figure out this whole craving thing. Even if it means starting a midnight pancake truck or something.”

The image of Bucky in an apron, serving pancakes from a food truck, was so ridiculous that you let out a genuine, hearty laugh. “A pancake truck?”

“Why not?” He smirked, his fingers playing with a lock of your hair. “I’d be the hottest pancake chef around. We’d have a line out the door.”

“Because everyone’s desperate for pancakes at three in the morning?” you asked, still smiling.

“Exactly,” he said with a mock-serious nod. “They’d be calling me the Pancake Soldier instead of the Winter Soldier.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter again, your earlier tears completely forgotten. “I swear, you’re impossible, Bucky Barnes.”

“Impossible and all yours,” he said with a wink, then glanced at the kitchen. “Now, how about we whip up some sort of Frankenstein snack to tide you over until the morning, huh?”

With another sniffle and a smile, you nodded. “Alright. But I’m still holding you to that pancake buffet.”

“Wouldn’t dream of backing out,” he promised, kissing your forehead again before guiding you to a chair. “You sit right here, and let Chef Barnes work his magic.”

You watched as Bucky moved around the kitchen, his clumsy efforts at ‘creative’ snack-making bringing a smile to your face despite the ridiculousness of it all. He muttered under his breath, concocting weird combinations — “What if we crush some pretzels on top?” — and talking to the food like it would reveal some hidden trick.

Eventually, he managed to cobble together another makeshift treat: a peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwich with a few random M&Ms sprinkled on top for good measure. It looked as chaotic as you felt, but the effort and love behind it made your heart swell.

You stared at the messy sandwich, your lips trembling again — but this time with a whole different set of emotions.

“Hey, no more tears,” Bucky said quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m running out of ideas here, babe.”

“I’m not crying,” you sniffed, reaching out to take a bite. “It’s just… you’re really, really sweet, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, reaching over to give your knee a gentle squeeze. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, your heart feeling lighter than it had all night.

“Good.” He smiled, leaning back in his chair as he watched you take another bite. “Now eat up, because come morning, I’m getting up at dawn to get everything we need for that pancake buffet. You’re gonna be the happiest pancake-eating pregnant lady in the world.”

“And you’re gonna be the best pancake-making husband in the world,” you replied with a soft smile, warmth spreading through your chest.

“Damn right,” Bucky murmured, his voice filled with so much affection it made your heart skip a beat.

As you finished the bizarre snack and Bucky continued to ramble on about potential pancake flavors and topping combinations, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly grateful.

Because, bizarre cravings and all, there was no one else you’d rather navigate the chaos with than him — your best friend, your partner, your ridiculous, wonderful Bucky Barnes.

× × × ×

Third Trimester

Bucky’s overprotectiveness had started out in small, endearing ways—like lingering in doorways or making sure you had an extra pillow at night. But as your pregnancy progressed, so did his paranoia, turning him into an almost comical shadow of your once-confident, battle-hardened husband.

It began with the shoelaces.

“Wait, wait, wait.” He practically skidded across the living room to kneel at your feet just as you were about to bend down to tie your sneakers. You straightened up, raising a brow, watching him fumble with the laces like it was a complex puzzle rather than a simple bow.

“Bucky, it’s just tying my shoes. I can do that,” you pointed out gently, but he shook his head fervently.

“Not risking it. What if you lose your balance?” His words were muffled as he double-knotted the laces, his shoulders hunched like he was shielding you from some invisible force.

“I’m not gonna lose my balance,” you murmured, amused. “I’ve been tying my own shoes for decades.”

“There’s a first for everything.” He tightened the bow a little too firmly, making you flinch. He winced in apology and adjusted it again, softer this time, before peering up at you with those intense blue eyes, a mix of worry and resolve. “Humor me, okay?”

You sighed, relenting with a small nod. “Okay. But just so you know, you’re not going to be doing this every single time.”

He grinned—victorious, as if you hadn’t noticed how he conveniently “lost” all your slip-ons just last week.

Then there was the laundry basket incident.

It happened when you were carrying a half-full basket of towels from the dryer. You’d barely made it halfway down the hall when Bucky materialized out of nowhere, intercepting you like you were carrying live explosives.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—what do you think you’re doing?” His voice was all mock-seriousness, but there was genuine concern underlining it as he gently pried the basket from your hands.

“Laundry?” you deadpanned, trying to tug it back, but he held firm.

“Not anymore, you’re not.” He shot you a look that dared you to argue as he held the basket up high, well out of your reach. “You don’t need to be lugging this around.”

“It’s not even heavy!” you protested, exasperation seeping into your tone.

He scoffed. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll take it. Just point me to where you want it.”

Grumbling, you pointed down the hallway. “Our bedroom.”

“See?” he said with a self-satisfied smile, striding down the hall like he was conquering new territory. “No big deal.”

You had to fight back an eye roll. “You’re gonna be like this until the baby is born, aren’t you?”

“Probably,” he called over his shoulder, unashamed.

It didn’t stop there, of course. In the kitchen, he’d barely let you near the sink.

One morning, you’d decided to tackle the breakfast dishes—something you could usually manage without too much hassle. But as soon as you set the first dish into the soapy water, Bucky’s hand appeared out of nowhere, lightly shoving you to the side.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, though it was clear he wasn’t asking for permission. “Your belly’s gonna bump into the counter. Let me do it.”

“Bucky—”

“Let. Me. Do it,” he insisted, holding a soapy plate hostage as he gazed at you, lips set in a stubborn line.

With a sigh, you threw your hands up in surrender. “Fine. But I’m not a porcelain doll, okay? I can do dishes just fine.”

“Sure,” he replied, but he was already washing the dishes with focused precision, occasionally glancing at you to make sure you hadn’t slipped or stumbled in the two feet he’d moved you back.

It was both infuriating and endearing, and it made you love him even more—though you’d never admit it when he was acting like a hovering mother hen.

The grocery trips were almost unbearable. He’d insisted on coming along, despite your reassurances that you were perfectly capable of picking up a few items.

“We need milk,” you pointed out, motioning toward the far end of the aisle.

“Got it,” he said immediately, guiding the cart forward with one hand and slipping his other arm around your waist as if to support your entire body weight.

You shot him a look. “I can still walk, you know.”

“Of course you can,” he agreed with a grin. “I’m just… helping you waddle.”

“Waddle?” You narrowed your eyes, smacking his arm lightly. “Did you just call me a waddler?”

“Um…” He glanced at you sheepishly, realizing his mistake a second too late. “No?”

“Yeah, nice try.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

“Alright, alright, bad choice of words. I’m just keeping pace with you,” he corrected, slowing his stride even more so that the two of you were practically moving in slow motion down the aisle.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all. “If we go any slower, we’ll start moving backwards.”

Bucky just chuckled, his arm tightening around you protectively. “I’ll take my chances.”

By the time you reached the milk, you were almost tempted to ask him to sprint the rest of the way just to get it over with. But the truth was, there was something undeniably sweet about having Bucky hover around like this.

“Let me guess,” you teased as you plucked a carton of milk off the shelf. “You want to carry this too?”

“Of course,” he said, already reaching for it, his expression deadly serious.

You held on to the carton just long enough to make him sweat before handing it over. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Unbelievably in love with you,” he replied easily, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple.

“Smooth,” you muttered, your lips twitching into a reluctant smile.

With Bucky being his overprotective self, you had no doubt that he’d be like this for the next few months—and likely long after the baby was born. But as much as you complained, deep down, you knew you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

× × × ×

“Bucky, for the last time, it’s just a shoe box,” you emphasise, glancing at your husband as he carefully hoists the empty box off the couch like it’s made of glass.

“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles, eyes darting suspiciously to the plain cardboard. “You shouldn’t be carrying anything in your condition.”

“Condition? Bucky, I’m pregnant, not broken.” You cross your arms, watching as he tucks the box under his arm like it’s a rare artefact. The man is a walking, talking fortress of muscle, but right now, his overprotectiveness is reaching absurd levels.

“And nearly at your due date,” he points out, placing the box on the counter with a sigh of relief as if he’s saved you from imminent danger. “I’ve read all the books. I know how this goes.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, yeah? So what’s the worst that could happen if I pick up a shoe box?”

Bucky turns to you with a dead-serious expression.

“It’s not about the weight. It’s about…” he falters, eyes scanning your swollen belly, “…stability. Your centre of gravity is off right now. A box could trip you.”

“A box could trip me?” You arch a brow, incredulous. “Really?”

“Yes!” His tone is insistent, and you have to bite back a laugh. This is the same man who once told a pack of HYDRA agents they were outnumbered—just because it was him and Steve versus a dozen of them. But now, he’s reduced to eyeing an empty cardboard box like it’s a mortal enemy.

Sighing, you sit back on the couch, deciding it’s not worth the argument. Besides, there’s a certain charm in seeing the Winter Soldier so worked up over an inanimate object. You lean back, letting out a small groan as you shift your weight.

Bucky’s been hovering around you all day like a lost puppy, eyes following your every move. The moment you make the slightest sound, his head whips around, concern flickering in his eyes. So when you groan, immediately, he’s by your side, eyes wide, hands hovering over your belly.

“What? What’s wrong? Is it time? Should I get the bag?”

“Calm down, Dad-mode. I’m just stretching.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’ve gotta stop panicking every time I make a sound.”

“Every time you make a sound, it could be something serious!” Bucky exclaims, sounding almost affronted. “Do you know what it’s like hearing you groan and not knowing if it’s ‘I want ice cream’ or ‘I’m about to go into labor’?”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” you tease.

He huffs, muttering something about ‘pregnancy hormones,’ and kneels down in front of you. Strong hands lift your foot gently, and he starts massaging your arch. You sigh, instantly melting under his touch.

“Better?” His voice is softer now, concern etched in every syllable.

“Much better,” you mumble, letting out a little moan as he presses down on a particularly tight knot.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bucky freezes, eyes wide again. “What’s that? Pain?”

“Relax,” you say, though your voice is slightly breathless. “It’s the good kind of pain. Keep going.”

You lean your head back, closing your eyes as Bucky continues the foot massage. The man has hands that could crush stone, but right now, he’s so gentle you almost feel like you’re floating. It’s hard not to feel a little spoiled under his doting care.

But just when you’re getting lost in the bliss of his hands working away the tension, you catch his face out of the corner of your eye. Bucky’s brow is furrowed, and his expression is one of fierce concentration, like he’s facing down a particularly difficult opponent. You stifle a giggle—only Bucky could make a foot massage seem like a high-stakes mission.

“Alright, alright, enough of that,” you say, reaching down to tug on his hand. “If you keep looking at my foot like that, you might set it on fire.”

Bucky blinks up at you, clearly having forgotten where he was. He chuckles, the sound low and almost shy. “Can’t help it. I just… I want to make sure I’m doing it right.”

“Bucky, it’s a foot massage, not defusing a bomb.” You roll your eyes again, but your heart swells at his concern. “You’re doing it perfectly.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks, but he lets out a small huff, pretending to be grumpy. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Then, without warning, he shifts beside you on the couch, a determined look settling on his face. “Now, hold still.”

Before you can ask what he’s up to, Bucky leans down, pressing his ear gently against your belly. You’re about to ask him if he’s comfortable, but the sheer look of wonder on his face stops you short. His eyes close, and he inhales deeply, as if trying to capture every little movement your baby girl makes.

“Hey, there, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs softly, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper. His fingers splay across your belly, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles. “It’s your dad. Just wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re being good for your mama.”

You bite your lip, warmth spreading through your chest at the sight. The fierce Winter Soldier, the man with a list of enemies longer than most people’s grocery lists, reduced to talking softly to your baby girl like she’s the most delicate thing in the world.

“She’s probably plotting her escape already,” you joke quietly, and Bucky grins up at you.

“Nah,” he says, eyes crinkling at the corners. “She’s too busy practicing her karate kicks. Isn’t that right, little one?”

Right on cue, a small flutter against your belly answers him, and Bucky’s eyes light up like fireworks. He leans down again, pressing his lips gently against the spot where your baby kicked.

“Whoa, easy there, sweetheart,” he murmurs, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Save the punches for when you’re out here. We’ve got plenty of training sessions ahead of us.”

You snort, shaking your head at his words. “Bucky, she’s not even born yet, and you’re already planning training sessions?”

“Gotta start ‘em young,” he says seriously, but the way he softens his voice when he turns back to your belly is anything but tough. “But don’t worry, we’ll take it easy. I’ll make sure you get to be a kid and have fun first. No one’s gonna mess with you. Not when I’m around.”

He pauses, his eyes misting over for a brief moment, and you know he’s thinking about everything he’s been through—everything he wants to shield your daughter from. Slowly, he rubs his thumb along your belly again, his touch featherlight.

“And you’re gonna love your mama,” Bucky continues softly. “She’s strong, and she’s funny, and—” He glances up at you, his smile turning mischievous. “She’s a little bit stubborn sometimes. But you’re gonna be just like her, I bet.”

“Great,” you mutter, faking a groan. “Two of you plotting against me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Bucky promises, but the glint in his eyes tells you he’s already imagining all the ways he’ll spoil his little girl.

He shifts again, his head still resting on your belly, and you have to stifle another laugh as he starts a running commentary, complete with exaggerated gestures.

“Okay, so here’s the plan,” he whispers conspiratorially to your baby. “When you get here, you’re gonna kick a lot. Cry a lot. But not too much. Your mama needs her sleep. Then, we’ll team up to get you extra dessert when she’s not looking.”

“Bucky!” You can’t help it—you burst out laughing. “You can’t be plotting behind my back already!”

He grins, looking up at you with mock innocence. “Hey, it’s not my fault if she wants ice cream. Right, sweetheart?”

A few more soft kicks seem to echo his words, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“I’m doomed,” you say, shaking your head fondly.

“No, you’re not,” Bucky murmurs, his voice softening again. He presses one more kiss against your belly before shifting to sit up beside you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you gently against his side. “You’re gonna be the best mom. And I’m gonna be right here, making sure you both have everything you need.”

You lean into his warmth, smiling as his hand drifts back to your belly, tracing idle patterns.

“I love you,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.

“And I love you,” he replies, voice deep and steady. He leans down, kissing the top of your head. “Both of you.”

With Bucky holding you close and whispering to your daughter, you feel your heart swell with a contentment so strong it almost aches. It’s moments like these that remind you just how lucky you are to have this overprotective, sweet man by your side.

Even if he does go overboard sometimes.

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salemlunaa · 9 months ago

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VOID STATE EXPLAINED: HOW TO GET THE LIFE YOU DREAM OF ᥫ᭡

A TELL-ALL GUIDE TO THE METHOD EVERYONE IS TALKING ABOUT

so in my asks i have alot of people going “sai, you always go on and on and on and on about the void and different problems people may have, but you never explain what it is and how to get there”And to be honest with you, most of my posts were meant to be that way because i knew of other blogs explaining the void and my blog was just meant to be follow up posts for those who already knew about the void. Although, now i feel more confident and equipped to explain the void in its entirety.

so strap in for this long ass post because this is a gonna be THE guide (if you can’t tell i’m very excited for this post)

i just wanna say that this post is an inspiration and a remix of all those that have inspired me

1. What is the void?

so as you can see yourself and life right now is you in the physical plane (the notorious 3D) you are experiencing the world as *your name* *your lastname*, and your experience is confined by the way that you initially came into the world, being y/n y/ln . The void, originally known as the “I AM” state is when you leave that experience behind, you leave the physical world behind and become nothing and everything at the exact same time. And doing so you can create and destroy absolutely anything in your experience = your reality which is why people call their destination after the void their “dr”=“desired reality”.

2. Why the void?

This method is seen as very effective and efficient once you know how to do it right because it’s a “method” in which your subconscious mind is in full control, which means you can do absolutely anything and that’s not some conspiracy or belief, it is a fact that when entering this subconscious-based meditation state that you can do absolutely anything, which is why i said that you have the power to create and destroy anything in the physical plane, altering your experience. You can change your genetics, your family and friends, your wealth, gender, where you live and much more. You can also redesign things, like a country for you to live in, your age, your s/o’s age, your memories and just your life in general. Just one trip to the void and all that you dream of is yours.

The void doesn’t have to be pitch black you can design it anyway you like, i see alot of people in my dms and asks, saying that the pitch black scares them, but your void can look anyway you want.

personally i’m not scared but i just wanted my void to look cute so i added pink stars to the pitch black

3. How do i get to the void?

There are many ways to get into the void, you can follow a guided many meditation, you can listen to subliminals or waves, you can simply affirm, you can visualise, or you can simply do none of these and go into the void with just the intent, KNOWING that it’s apart of you. You don’t need any method to tap into the void, all you need is yourself and the intent, knowing it’s apart of you and not some magical fairyland. You can enter at anytime of day, because you’re a god and don’t need to be confined to “time”. “Time” is a malleable concept and i’ll be dammed if you guys waste your days because you only believe that you can tap in at night.

4. Problems people have with the void

3 things: wavering, laziness and putting the void on a damn pedestal

a lot of you guys fail to enter the void simply because you try to enter. all the things i have said about the void make it almost impossible to believe, a golden ticket to your dream life with one trip to the void. And because of the fact that we have been conditioned to believe that we have to work for everything we have, this just seems to good to be true. and you see the void as some magical place when it’s YOU, the void is YOU, why do you think you affirm “I Am”? well it’s because the void is literally the state of you being everything but nothing, it is not a place it is a state, hence the void STATE, the “I Am” STATE. it’s a meditative state and that’s it.

When you enter the "I AM" state, why do you affirm phrases like "I am, I am pure consciousness, I am the void, I am unattached to any reality, I am faceless and formless"? It's because these affirmations align you with your divine essence, your true God Self. However, this practice is often short-lived. You enter this state briefly, and when you don't experience any immediate changes or wake up in the same shitty reality, you begin to doubt. You think, "Why hasn't it worked? I must be doing something wrong. I'll try again tonight." This is what wavering looks like. You declare yourself to be in the "I AM" state, but when it doesn’t immediately manifest, you believe it hasn't worked and attempt to re-enter it repeatedly. This endless cycle of trying can confuse your subconscious mind. Instead of truly embodying the state, you're constantly oscillating, creating inconsistency and doubt.

STOP TRYING AND START BEING, OR YOU WILL GET NOWHERE

the void is the easiest thing ever and it is owed to you, because it is you

you can literally enter right now and have every single thing you’ve ever wanted, with just a meditation state, the void isn’t the one with the power it’s you. The void is inside of you and it is lifeless, the only time it gains any power is when YOU step into the equation. As i once said, the void is your bitch not the other way around.

5. Unhealthy relationships

Although the void is one of the best methods i know, i would hate for anyone to accumulate an unhealthy, toxic relationship with the void. The void is as easy as breathing, i know, but it can be alot for some of us to wrap our heads around due to the way we have been conditioned to think (which hurts my heart more than you know). I see people spend months and years trying to get into the void going through an emotionally taxing experience with it. Although i tell people it doesn’t matter how much time you’ve “wasted” and not to let that discourage you because you could really enter now if you put your mind to it (no pun intended) , if you know that it has been eating you up trying for the void going around a constant cycle, please take a break or use other methods.

now with that i say go, go and redesign yourself, deconstruct yourself and create the new you, start from scratch and make your dream self, go to the void and get your dream life.

don’t try, just be 🌊💋

i really hope you loved this as much as i do, now go get your dream life -salem ᥫ᭡

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duvetchico · 16 days ago

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25 clips that had us looking like :0

summary it's jimin’s birthday, and what better way to celebrate than by dragging out every single suspiciously couple-coded thing she’s ever done with y/n?

genre crack / fluff overload / lowkey romantic documentary / "they're dating but we’re all playing dumb" energy / yu jimin turns 25

pairing yu jimin x added!member reader

masterlist.

channel: user-duvetchico

[INTRO — 0:00] hey what’s up it’s me again back with another delulu edit that may or may not be grounded in actual real evidence. today we’re counting down 25 moments between our mother jimin and the added member of aespa, y/n, who are just besties except they act like they’re already married. anyways. it’s jimin’s bday so we’re being sickeningly sentimental.

[clip 1 – 0:13] from aespa’s behind-the-scenes vlog at music bank jimin’s sitting on the floor, back against the wall, in full stage makeup but with a sleepy dazed look. y/n walks by and throws her a juice box. “what’s this?” “your personality, because u get grumpy when ur dehydrated.” jimin smiles without looking at her, pokes the straw in, and sips. “love u.”

[clip 3 – 0:28] aespa's live chat: “what are you two doing later?” jimin: “cuddling.” y/n, not missing a beat: “duh.” dead silence and then y/n bursts out laughing while jimin just sips her drink and smirks like she got away with murder.

[clip 2: 0:44] staff "karina, your mic—" jimin, already walking off “hold on i have to fix y/n’s hair first.” camera pans to her literally babying y/n, fixing her bangs and whispering "there. pretty."

[clip 3: 0:56]

aespa's live

comment: “who’s your favorite member in aespa?”

jimin: “obviously the one i sleep next to.”

camera cuts to y/n throwing a pillow at her while everyone else screams.

[clip 4 – 1:10] backstage fancam y/n’s adjusting jimin’s in-ears. jimin closes her eyes. y/n says something too quiet to hear, but jimin smiles so wide she almost forgets to go onstage.

[clip 5: 1:26]

concert footage during the ending ment, jimin lowkey leans over and whispers something to y/n. y/n nods. jimin kisses her on the cheek. yeah. fans SCREAMED.

[clip 6: 1:39] camera catches jimin tracing little hearts on y/n’s arm while she’s talking to staff. y/n doesn’t even flinch. like this is NORMAL.

[clip 7: 1:46]

q&a segment question: “who’s the most clingy?” everyone simultaneously: “jimin.” jimin: “i am NOT—” camera cuts to jimin literally holding y/n’s pinky in hers under the table.

[clip 8: 1:58]

cafe vlog jimin feeding y/n cake while saying “say ahhh.” y/n: “you’re so annoying.” jimin: “say that again after i just bought you a $7 slice of cake.”

[clip 9: 2:12]

idol room game task: “call the person you love the most” jimin immediately dials y/n. y/n picks up like “why are you calling me we’re literally in the same room.” jimin: “bc i love you. duh.”

[clip 10 – 2:30] training room y/n’s struggling with choreo. jimin just sits next to her and holds her hand. “wanna try again?” “not yet.” “ok. i’ll sit here with you.” cue soft music and hearts exploding

[clip 11 – 2:48] instagram live fan: “what do you like most about y/n?” jimin, looking up: “her heart.” y/n, offscreen: “and my ass right??” jimin: “....also that.”

[clip 12 – 3:00] concert footage during aespa’s ment, jimin’s talking, and y/n walks behind her and lightly tugs at the back of her jacket. jimin pauses, leans back a little like muscle memory, and they just stand there like that for 10 seconds before realizing 10,000 people are staring.

[clip 13 - 3:10]

random interview

jimin holding y/n’s hand during an aespa interview. she lowkey rubs circles with her thumb. they ask what jimin does to relax. “i hang out with y/n.” and everyone goes “awww” while y/n blushes hard and tries to disappear into the floor.

[clip 14 - 3:33]

award show red carpet

they’re standing side by side, hand on lower back, classic pose. interviewer: “you two are very close—any messages for each other?” jimin looks at y/n and just goes: “thank you for existing.” y/n’s face goes FULL red. “bro. you could’ve just said ‘you look nice’ like a normal person.” jimin: “no fun in that.”

[clip 15 - 3:49]

aespa behind ep, japan tour

camera pans to jimin sleeping in the van, head on y/n’s shoulder, mouth slightly open. y/n's literally just scrolling through her phone with one headphone in, unfazed.

staff voice (off-cam): “you could move her head if it's heavy.”

y/n: “nope. it’s fine. she only drooled once.”

[clip 16 - 4:01]

instagram live

y/n, half-asleep: “jimin just texted me to eat something. do i look like i wanna chew right now.”

chat: “why does she know you haven’t eaten?”

y/n: “bro she tracks me like a damn fitness app.”

[clip 17 - 4:10]

airport candid

jimin places her coat on y/n’s shoulders and walks off like nothing happened. y/n stares at the camera like “y’all saw that right.”

[clip 18 - 4:18]

concert moment

they pass the mic to y/n to talk. jimin's behind her mouthing every single word she says.

[clip 19 - 4:25]

q&a fan event

fan: “describe each other in one word.”

jimin: “mine.”

crowd: “???!!?!?”

jimin: laughs nervously “LIKE—like she’s my member. i mean. like she belongs to the group. yk?”

[clip 20 - 4:37]

fan spotted them at a café together

jimin and y/n laughing so loud jimin actually hits the table. y/n wipes whipped cream off her lip and flicks it at her.

[clip 21 - 4:49]

award show ending

jimin offers her hand to y/n to help her off stage. doesn’t let go until they reach the dressing room.

[clip 22 5:00]

concert ending

they’re waving goodbye. y/n reaches over and links pinkies with jimin. “did you have fun?” “only because you were there.” “gay.” “you love it.”

[clip 23 - 5:13]

jimin's birthday at their concert

jimin’s on stage during a concert, gets handed the mic for her birthday. she turns to y/n in the crowd. “thank you for being my person. even when i’m annoying. and weird. and obsessed with you.” y/n shouts something back. jimin laughs and covers her face. “okay stop i’m gonna cry now.”

[clip 24 - 5:20]

last night a phone cam video. the members are singing happy birthday. jimin’s about to blow the candles out when she glances at y/n. “make a wish,” y/n says. jimin: “already got it.” y/n: freakin dies

[clip 25 - 5:33]

aespa surprise live for jimin

scene opens with aeri filming the cake. arguing in the background. ningning is yelling something about lighting the candles properly. minjeong is just... eating frosting. and then—

jimin walks in, eyes all sleepy but smiling, and y/n’s already standing behind the couch like she’s been waiting for her or some shit. she immediately pulls jimin into a hug, and you hear aeri screaming in the background like “OH MY GODDDD GUYS GET A ROOM.”

they don’t even flinch. y/n’s arms are wrapped around her waist from behind, chin resting on jimin’s shoulder while jimin just leans back into it like it’s second nature. they're swaying. it’s disgustingly adorable.

then jimin turns her head slightly and says (into the mic she didn’t realize was ON) “i told you i only wanted to spend my birthday with you first...”

y/n literally freezes. everyone heard that. the silence was LOUD. ningning drops a spoon.

jimin realizes. blinks. “WAIT—THE MIC—”

minjeong collapses on the couch laughing. aeri is wheezing. live goes mess. jimin turns bright red and tries to play it off like “hahaha i meant like... metaphorically... like you... the fans... plural...”

[OUTRO – 6:00]

anyway. if they’re not dating, then i’m dating them. happy birthday to jimin, aespa’s leader, and certified simp. if they’re not really dating, then i’m deleting this video. but like… i’m not deleting shit. and for y/n.... go give your gf forehead kisses rn or i’ll do it first.

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lovemomhatepolice · 27 days ago

Text

as pretty as a flower - f1 drivers multi!

navigation taglist requests

pairing: f1 drivers x fem!reader

warnings slightly suggestive, English is my second language

belonging: f1 drivers multi!

type: fluff, pure fluff

summary: short stories about how you were gifted with a beautiful flower from your boyfriend

more content: formula 1 masterlist, as a boyfriend - lando norris, latest oscar's one-shot, as a boyfriend - oscar piastri, as a boyfriend - max verstappen, as a boyfriend - charles leclerc

carlos sainz - red camellia [symbolizes: love, passion and admiration]

The Monaco sun bathed the restaurant's terrace in golden light as Carlos leaned against the balustrade, with an undoubted gleam in his eyes. Between his fingers he held a single red camellia whose petals were full and velvety, as rich as the fire that burned within him every time he looked at you.

"This flower signifies deep admiration and love," he muttered, twisting the stem of the freshly picked flower.

You raised an eyebrow, taking the flower from his hands, running your fingers over its red petals. "Is that so? And who exactly do you admire, Señor Sainz?"

Carlos smiled, reaching up to slip the camellia behind your ear gently. "Who else?" - he murmured, and you could hear the sincerity in his voice. "How could I have anyone else in mind when you're by my side, no matter how bad my day is. You're always watching over me, like the most beautiful of angels, and you're just here being yourself."

You immediately felt your cheeks heat up. You had always been proud of how you supported him, but hearing it out loud - knowing that he could see it - made your heart speed up.

Carlos embraced your cheek and his thumb brushed your skin too. "Camellia also means passion, and you drive me crazy every day."

You laughed quietly, leaning under his touch. "You're quite the romantic, aren't you?"

He shrugged his shoulders, drawing you close in a warm kiss. "Just for you, cariño."

—————

alex albon - blue forget-me-not [symbolizes: faithful love & remembrance]

It was a quiet evening, one where the world slowed down enough to make room for gentle words and gentle gestures. Alex sat on the couch, holding a small bouquet of delicate, blue forget-me-nots, their tiny petals creating a sea of soft colors.

You tilted your head in amusement as you entered your living room when you heard Alex call out to you. “Forget-me-nots?”

Alex smiled shyly. “Yes, I thought they were fitting. They symbolize faithful love and memory.”

You carefully took the flowers and smiled at him, sitting down next to him on the couch. “And what exactly are you trying to remind me of?”

He exhaled, leaning back into the pillows. “That no matter where I am—whether I’m halfway around the world at a race or right next to you—I always think of you. Always.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart expand. Just for a while.

"Besides," he added with a crooked smile, "You often forget about a lot of things, so maybe these flowers will work their magic and you'll stop doing that."

You laughed, putting the flowers on the table for a moment to put them in the right vase and leaning against its side.

"You're overreacting," you mumbled, waving your hand. "What am I forgetting?"

"Mm, maybe the cake you put in the oven an hour ago?" Alex asked, raising an eyebrow and nodding towards the oven.

At that moment, a smell reached you, maybe not burning, but definitely tending towards it. You quickly got up from the couch and ran to the kitchen.

"Why didn't you remind me?!" you shouted at him, quickly opening the oven and airing it with a cloth.

"Didn't I tell you you'd need them?" he laughed and put the flowers in a vase in the middle of your kitchen table, looking at you with an amused look.

—————

oscar piastri - bluebell [symbolizes humility, gratitude, and everlasting love]

Oscar wasn't the best with words, but when it came to you, he felt everything so intensely that sometimes it scared him. He loved you—not in a fleeting, random way, but in a way that made his chest tighten every time he looked at you.

And that was why, after returning from a long weekend of racing, the first thing he did was place a bouquet of bluebells on your dressing table in your bedroom.

He didn't do things like that often, but you deserved the reminder. Especially when he was away on long trips and couldn't show you his love on a daily basis.

You walked into the bedroom, setting your bag down before your eyes landed on the bouquet. You blinked, smiling to yourself, and walked over to the dressing table. "Oscar?"

You didn't have to wait long, Oscar had been leaning against the door frame from the very beginning, looking at you with that quiet but loving expression on his face. "Yes?"

You turned one of the flowers over in your hands and looked at it, giggling under your breath. “These from you?”

Oscar looked at the flowers, then at you, and snorted under his breath. “Who else would they be from?”

Then he hesitated for a second, before pushing himself away from the door frame, closing the space between you.

“I missed you.”

You swallowed hard, your breathing quickening. It had been a long time since you had been this close, hadn’t felt how much you missed each other. Standing this close, with his unwavering gaze, you could feel every unspoken word between you.

You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I know. Me too, every single day"

Oscar leaned into your touch, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him. You stood in silence because you knew it was worth just as much as the words that had previously fallen from your mouth.

—————

lando norris - sunflower [symbolizes: adoration, loyalty, and positivity]

Lando appeared outside your door with a sunflower almost as tall as he was. "Before you say anything, yes, I did look ridiculous carrying this around."

You stifled a laugh, taking the bright yellow flower from him and letting it fall inside. "Lando, this is huge."

"Just like my love for you," he said dramatically, then smiled. "I'm joking. But not really. No, I'm not joking."

You shook your head, tracing the golden petals of a sunflower. You thought for a long moment about where you could put it, reminding yourself once again how big a flower it was.

Lando quickly came up with a solution, helping you set the sunflower in a vase on the ground so that it wouldn't fall in any direction. Thanks to your efforts, the flower stood still, and Lando confidently and contentedly propped his hips up, looking in your direction.

"They always turn towards the sun, you know? No matter what. A bit like I always look for you - after the races, on the bad days, and even on the good ones."

Instantly, you felt warmth spreading through your chest. "You're soft, Norris."

"Just for you"- He admitted, putting his arm around you and kissing your forehead.

kimi antonelli - daisy [symbolizes innocence, purity, and new beginnings

You rolled over on the blanket on the other side laughing, looking at Kimi, who was forming a delicate bouquet of daisies next to you, trying to put them together in some sort of a bouquet. The two of you were together in the meadow that day, soaking up the last moments before his first season in Formula One.

You raised yourself carefully on your elbows, looking up at him. “Is this for me?”

Kimi, focused on tying the grass around the white little flowers, nodded. “Si”

You took the bouquet from his hand and sniffed them, feeling them gently fill your nostrils. “How lovely.”

Kimi smiled warmly in your direction, brushing back your hair, which fell across your face. “Like you.”

You put the flowers down next to you, moving closer to your boyfriend and stroking his luscious curls, which were particularly unruly today. You saw a blush on his cheeks, which made you burst out laughing quietly, cuddling up to him.

—————

george russell - red tulips [symbolizes true love, passion, and deep commitment]

George always had a knack for making even the simplest of things seem wonderful, so it was no surprise when he showed up with a perfectly arranged bouquet of red tulips before your date. Everything was perfectly coordinated - his suit, his hair, and the flowers that sparkled beautifully in his hand.

You smiled sincerely, accepting the flowers from him as he walked through the door to your apartment. "Red tulips? Let me guess - there's some meaning behind it."

He smirked, ever the gentleman. "Red tulips symbolize a declaration of love. I thought it would be fitting for us." he replied, stepping deeper into your apartment. "You know, a first anniversary is no small feat."

Your heart beat faster as you poured water into the vase, leaving your boyfriend behind. You arranged the flowers nicely on the table and turned to him uncertainly.

"So are you declaring something?"

George took your hand and smiled gallantly, kissing your knuckles. “Haven’t I been declaring that all along?”

You laughed quietly and touched his jaw, stroking it. “Maybe, but I like hearing that.”

George chuckled, pulling you closer. “Then I’ll keep saying it. Every day.”

—————

lewis hamilton - lavender [symbolizes calm, devotion, and protection]

"I'm here!" you shouted, entering your shared apartment after a long day at college.

The last month had overwhelmed you, you spent many long hours there every day, and after returning you had no time for yourself or your boyfriend, who was a rare sight in your home, because he was constantly traveling to races.

The scent of lavender wafted through the air before you saw him. Lewis was standing at the kitchen counter, skillfully arranging a bouquet of delicate purple flowers.

You leaned against the door, looking at him. "Since when did you become a florist?"

He smiled crookedly, not looking up. "Since I realized you needed it."

You took a step forward, snuggling into his warm back.

The scent of lavender filled your nose, and the presence of Lewis, who protected and cared for you, even when you didn't take care of yourself, immediately made you feel like your head was getting lighter.

“I thought it would help you relax.”

Your chest tightened—he was always in tune with you, always knew what you needed before you even asked. “You always take care of me.”

His smile softened as you wrapped yourself even tighter around his back. Lewis touched your hands with his own and gently turned you around, pulling you completely into his arms. He kissed the top of your head and hummed quietly.

“That’s it.”

—————

charles leclerc - lily of the valley [symbolizes sweetness, happiness, and the return of joy]

It was one of those days when you could afford to spend a lot of time in the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets and cooking whatever came to mind. You hummed to yourself as you set two plates with the rest of the dishes in your dining room. Despite Charles's playful protests that you should sit down and relax, you still stubbornly wanted to do everything yourself.

The man sat on the couch for a long moment, watching you move around your apartment with agility, and then, as if remembering something, he stood up and disappeared into the other room. When he returned, he was holding a bouquet.

You looked up as he approached you with a full smile and beautiful lilies of the valley. You winked, putting down the spoon you were holding in your hand.

"Charles…"

He smiled widely, hugging you to him with one hand and carefully protecting the bouquet with the other. "Surprise."

You gently touched one of the petals, still standing in his embrace. “They’re beautiful.”

“I’m glad,” he murmured, resting his chin on your head. “Maman helped me.”

You shook your head, amusement glinting in your eyes, but there was something softer underneath—something knowing. Charles didn’t buy flowers just to buy them. He especially didn’t ask his mother for help with something so trivial.

You looked at him, your voice quieter. “Tell me.”

Charles exhaled, his eyes flickering between yours before he finally spoke. “Because I love you.” He ran his thumb over your cheek, his expression impossibly sincere. “And because every time I come home to you, I realize more and more that I never want to live a life without you. You helped me get out of the dark place I found myself in. And I feel like I'm not showing you this enough."

And with his words, there was silence between you. But it wasn't unpleasant, you both knew it and appreciated it more and more. Because in that silence, there was love. Pure love.

max verstappen - white carnation [symbolizes pure love, faithfulness, and good luck]

The apartment in Monaco was dimly lit, the soft glow of the streetlights casting shadows on the walls. You entered, dropping your bag by the door, exhausted after a long day. But then you noticed it—white carnations resting on your pillow.

You carefully picked it up, its petals fresh and crisp. As if they had just been picked up from a florist. "Max?"

The man appeared next to you in an instant, smiling to himself. He was tired too, you had just returned home from the race, but he had already made sure to welcome you home nicely.

"You left this for me?"

He nodded, grabbing your hips. "Mhm."

A smile appeared on your lips. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"Do I need a reason?" he asked, stroking your hips as if seeking solace in it.

Your fingers brushed his, and your eyes crossed, causing an invisible spark between you. "No," you mumbled, "but I still like to know."

Max exhaled through his nose, the corner of his mouth twitched, and he laughed sincerely. "You put up with a lot," he admitted. "Mostly me."

You smiled pityingly and kissed him sweetly on the lips, feeling him pull you even closer to him. Your apartment was quiet, very quiet, and the only sound was the cars outside the window and the clock that Max couldn't turn off, even though it irritated you so much.

"Oh, you put up with a lot too," you laughed, pulling away from him for a moment. "And now you'll have to put up with me longer."

"I guess I'll survive," he mumbled against your lips, smiling.

—————

oliver bearman - lily [symbolizes devotion, purity, and a gentle, protective love]

When you woke up after a hard night due to illness, your eyes caught sight of a beautiful bouquet of pink lilies standing in a glass of water on your nightstand. They weren't there last night.

It wasn't long before you also felt the gaze and warmth of someone's body behind you - you knew exactly who it was. So you lazily rolled over to the other side, throwing off the tissues that were your only salvation at night and smiled to yourself.

Ollie was lying on the other side of the bed, staring at the muted TV and just like you, he was snuggled up in the sheets. Even at first glance, you didn't notice that he was in your matching pajamas. His hair was still ruffled from sleep and his facial expression was relaxed.

You cleared your throat slightly, trying to regain your voice and at the same time get the boy's attention. "When did you come?"

Ollie glanced at you and nodded. "Four hours ago?" he asked himself and moved closer to you slightly. "You slept for a long time, it's already after 3pm"

You yawned, still waking up. "Sneaking around again, aren't you?"

Ollie smirked, moving closer. "I'm not sneaking around. I'm just…making sure you wake up to something nice. Especially since you supposedly barely slept the whole night before"

She ran a finger over his face, and warmth blossomed in your chest. "You're too good for me, you know that?"

He shrugged, blushing slightly and showing you one of his most beautiful smiles. "Someone has to be."

The moment of silence between you two was broken by your giggles and you slightly pulled away from the boy, looking into his eyes. "Now I'm sad that I'm sick, because I can't smell at all"

—————

franco colapinto - wild rose [symbolizes love, adventure, and untamed beauty]

Your walks with Franco had become a daily occurrence, whenever you had the chance - especially now, when spring was coming with great strides and all life was waking up. The first flowers were blooming and Franco couldn't pass by the wild rose bush indifferently when you walked by it.

"A beautiful rose for a beautiful lady" he said, handing it to you with a smile.

You took it hesitantly, holding back your laughter. A small, pink rose that smelled wonderful and had apparently only recently appeared there in one piece.

"You just stole it" you snorted under your breath, looking at the boy.

He shrugged. "Borrowed. Nature won't mind".

You carefully put it in your bag so as not to destroy it and grabbed Franco's hand, gently nudging him. "You're impossible".

“And yet,” he mused, wrapping his arm around you, “you’re still here.”

You looked at him, rolling your eyes. You let go of his hand and walked forward, trying to hold back the laughter that was escaping your lips. “For now.”

Franco smiled broadly, shaking his head and following you. “Liar!”

—————

arthur leclerc - daffodil [symbolizes new beginnings, hope, and joy]

The apartment still smelled of fresh paint and new furniture. There were boxes lining the walls, some half-open, others untouched. The space wasn't fully yours yet—not until they had time to settle in—but it already felt different. Like the beginning.

You sighed, stretching your arms and looking around. "This still feels unreal."

Arthur, standing at the kitchen counter, smiled wickedly. "I know, but we'll get used to it," he muttered and pulled something out from behind himself, revealing a small bouquet of bright yellow daffodils.

You winked, smiling sincerely at him. They fit perfectly here. "Flowers?"

"For the apartment," he said, stepping closer. "And for you."

You took them carefully in your hands, brushing your fingers over the soft petals. "Daffodils?"

Arthur nodded, his expression unusually sincere. “The lady at the flower shop advised me. A new place, a new beginning. I thought they were a good fit.”

Your heart warmed, and at the same time, you bit your lip to keep from laughing. “You’re such a sucker.”

He rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his face. “Yeah, yeah. Just put them in water before they die.”

You laughed, standing on your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Our first flowers in our first apartment. I love them.”

Arthur’s hand found your waist, pulling you into a hug. “Good. Because there’ll be more.”

—————

daniel ricciardo - marigold [symbolizes warmth, passion, and unwavering affection]

The door to your apartment slammed loudly, practically making you jump from where you were standing in the kitchen. Then, like a torpedo, Daniel marched in, grinning from ear to ear.

You looked at him, but you weren't very surprised. He used to barge into the house like nothing had happened. And then he was surprised that your heart rate was racing.

Daniel raised his hand, holding a marigold, as if he was handing it over as if it were a trophy, grinning from ear to ear. "For you, love."

You accepted it with a smile, looking at your boyfriend. "What's the occasion?"

He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. "I thought you should have something bright."

You glanced at the golden petals, then back at him, looking at his beautiful wide smile. "You're already doing it for me."

His smile softened and he tilted his head to the side. His Australian accent was more audible than usual. “Yeah, well. Now you have two of us.”

She rolled her eyes, stepping closer. “You’re riddiculous.”

“And you like that.”

You sighed dramatically, placing the flower in the vase where other flowers from Daniel were. “Unfortunately.”

He pulled you closer, brushing his lips against your temple. “Lucky me.”

A/N: please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

a bit longer chapter, because I didn't want to split it into parts. spring blew in, huh? hope you like it <3 feedback always welcomed!

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sukirichi · 11 months ago

Text

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐒. 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮

— in which you and your fuck buddy pretend to date, which totally won’t lead to feelings at all, right?

content / warnings. toxic college settings. explicit smut. MINORS DNI. choking. exhibitionism. fingering. making out. masturbation. voyeurism. toxic characters. reverse cowgirl riding. implied dub-con. friends with benefits. fake dating. unedited.

dedicated to @kyriaan

The sixth beep of your phone that cursed morning had you shuffling around your bag for the device, fishing it out and muting it with exasperation. To no one’s surprise, he was the sole topic again. Oikawa this and Oikawa that — how he’d be such a great boyfriend to you and your friends could also go on dates with his equally charismatic friends; you were tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.

“Funny seeing you here,” a bored voice drawled out, the scraping of a chair against the floor snapping you to your senses. “Never in my whole life did I imagine I’d find you hiding in a library of all places — are you reading Freud? His theories are shit. They’re not even scientifically proven.”

You raised a brow at Suna Rintaro, your not-so friend friend.

You and Rintaro had a strict friends with benefits relationship.

It started with meeting at a party once when you needed a release from the stress of finals, you made out on the crowded dance floor and found yourselves tangled in the sheets with barely any memory of the night before. The rest was history. Soon, you ran into him more often than you’d expected, and it wasn’t long before you added his name into speed dial.

Funnily enough, you weren’t that close to him.

You either knew everything about him or knew little to nothing. Most of the time you spent with Rintaro would be when you two were drunk out of your minds, bodies too occupied with moving against one another that ‘getting to know each other’ had never been a thing.

For some reason, however, Rintaro was someone you could trust with your whole heart. You just wouldn’t date him because you weren’t looking for a relationship, and neither was he.

Both of you loved the arrangement you had now.

“Why do you know so much about Freud? I just randomly picked up this book.”

Rintaro shrugged, “‘Hooked up with a girl in Psychology once; she was pretty hot, but you’re still my favourite,” winking, he chewed on his gum before snatching the book away from you.

A protest nearly fell from your mouth when a mop of wavy, dark hair sauntered inside the library, taking long, confident strides as he chatted with Iwaizumi. Eyes widening, you ducked your head behind Suna, desperately clutching the hoodie clad on his stiff back.

Rintaro glanced downwards at you, “You’re hiding like you murdered somebody’s pet. Should I be worried or should I help you in hiding someone’s body?”

“Literally shut up. Oikawa is right there.”

“Oikawa... Tooru?” following your line of sight, Rintaro’s back slouched at the same time his lips curled into a mischievous smile. You could tell he was stifling his laughter; the vibrations of his back spoke enough of his urge to betray you. “Oh, he’s looking here. At you, I might say — care to explain?”

“I have nothing to explain to you. We’re not even friends.”

“Ouch,” Rintaro clutched at his chest, “That hurt. Weren’t you at my dorm like five nights in a row last week? You didn’t want me to leave the bed either. I thought we had something special!”

“Suna Rintaro, I am not fucking around with you. Shut up. I swear if Oikawa walks here, I’m never talking to you again.”

As if to prove a point, you plopped until your upper body squished against his back and the chair, cheeks puffing out in frustration as Rintaro sighed. “Okay, you don’t have to explain anything to me, but come on. You’re using me as a human shield and I have zero context on what’s going on,” he tapped your thigh, head slightly tilted to the side with a wary eye out for Oikawa. “Listen, if he’s bothering you, I could deal with it. He looks like the type of guy who doesn’t know what ‘no’ means so if that’s the case, stop hiding. I can help you with it. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Your grip on his hoodie listened. Peering up from the bottom of your lashes, you nervously licked your lips. “Wait... you mean that? You’ll really help me?”

“Yeah! You send me nudes that motivate me to ace my exams so this is the least I could do.”

“You just have to make everything sexual, don’t you?” you rolled your eyes and ignored Rintaro’s shameless smile. Scanning the room, you glared at Oikawa’s direction before sitting up and gluing yourself to Rintaro’s hip, whose brow raised but said nothing otherwise. “Okay, so the thing is... my friends may or may not have set me up with Oikawa. They kind of gave him false hope I’m really into him — which I never will be because he has a shitty personality — but he’s not having any of it. He insisted I should go with him on just one date, and if I still don’t change my mind about him, then he won’t push further. Otherwise, he really doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s everywhere that I ended up blurting out I was already dating someone.”

Rintaro rested his chin on his palm. “That’s a lot of information to take in,” he mused, “So... you need help in finding a fake boyfriend, is that it?”

“About that,” with guilt written all over your face, you scratched the back of your neck and chuckled, making sure to avoid eye contact the entire time. “You were the first one to come to mind so I told him I was dating the middle blocker from his team. The uhm, guy who stays up until three am fighting in Twitter threads.”

Rintaro’s jaw dropped. “No way,” he clicked his tongue, hands coming up to ball beside your cheeks as he fought the desire to squeeze your cheeks. Meanwhile, you blinked at him innocently, lower lip jutted out in hopes you’d appease him — which more or less worked as he slumped in his seat. “I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”

“I didn’t have a choice!”

“You did and you chose to date me!” Rintaro hissed under his breath, “Jeez, if you wanted us to be official, you could’ve said so. I would’ve thought about it,” exhaling through his nose, Rintaro pushed his hair back, his head too much of a mess to notice you getting flustered. “Fine. I’ll be your fake boyfriend, but don’t you dare fall in love with me. Our condition when we started sleeping together was that we’re limited to casual relationships only. I like our arrangement already, and you mean a lot to me as a friend so I don’t want to lose you, alright? Whatever we’re doing, it’s all going to be an act.”

“Deal,” you shook his hand, face lighting up at how it didn’t take much to convince him. “Now go to the party with me tonight. We’ll show Oikawa why he can’t have me.”

The sight of bodies grinding onto another and music blaring through the speakers weren’t new to you and Rintaro. You’d both seen the same scene a thousand times before, having been part of that crowd at one point. Yet, tonight felt different from rest. The music felt muted as you walked through the door with Rintaro’s hand down on your waist, the stench of alcohol and sex overpowered by the musky perfume your fake boyfriend wore.

You couldn’t think clear around him.

You tried to blame it on the jitters that set your nerves on fire, anxiety pooling in your stomach at the thought Oikawa made it clear he wanted to see you tonight.

Of course, you weren’t stupid. Knowing the guy infamous for his reputation for sleeping around and changing partners like they were his clothes, he wouldn’t give up once he had his eyes set on someone. It just so happened that unfortunate person had to be you.

“Relax,” Rintaro breathed into your ear, pulling you closer by the hip when you weaved through the people nearly fucking on the floor. The sudden gesture had you jolting for a split second. Blinking, Rintaro’s reassuring smile greeted you with a tinge of amusement, his gaze tracing down your nails forming crescent moons on his arm. “Do you really have to cling to me all night?”

“We’re supposed to be a couple madly in love, remember?” you reminded with a bounce of your heel, surveying the throng of people milling in and out of the frat house in search of Oikawa. “You should kiss me too as soon as we see him. Then he’ll stop bothering me and we can be over with this fiasco.”

“Asking just in case, but how should I kiss you? Like a peck?”

“Kiss me like you want the whole world to know I’m yours,” you said nonchalantly, not thinking too much of it since this was supposed to be an act. Until a horde of loud males started cheering as soon as they entered the room, the crowd welcoming Oikawa and his friends warmly when Rintaro suddenly grabbed you by the wrist, twisting you to face him. The last thing you saw before Rintaro tilted his head to the side to press his lips to yours was the look of utter horror on Oikawa’s face.

Although, honestly, who cared? Rintaro tasted like beer and strawberries, his musky scent clouding your senses that your eyes closed in response.

Knees weakening, you grabbed onto Rintaro’s shoulders to steady yourself, gasping into his greedy lips when you felt him squeeze your hip possessively. You groaned into the kiss, your hands running up to play with the ends of his hair as Rintaro’s back hit the wall, his bent leg trapped between your thighs. He quickly took the chance and nudged his knee on your clothed pussy. Your skirt grazed against your sensitive core that you attempted to pull away to breathe, but Rintaro wasn’t having any of it.

Smirking beneath you, Rintaro hooked a finger into the chains dangling from your skirt and pulled you flush against him. You had no time to react before he was pushing a tongue past your lips. Warm, wet muscles danced against each other as Rintaro memorized the taste of you the same way you did for him — not a single care about air anymore when he made those low, deep whimpers setting fire to your loins.

But just as soon as you leaned in for more, his hair tugged backward to deepen the kiss, Rintaro pulled away. “That’s how I’d kiss you if I were your boyfriend,” he declared, pads of his thumb swiping against his moist lip swollen from the little nips you gave him — the look of pleasure and satisfaction displayed all over his handsome face that told you how much he enjoyed your needy whines.

You gaped at him, your skin burning from being edged.

Rintaro flicked you on the forehead. “Don’t look at me like that. You asked me to kiss like I wanted to let the world know your mine, and he was looking. Besides, we need to show someone who you belong to, right?” pushing his weight off the wall, Rintaro lightly bit your earlobe as you breathed hard, his sharp, cold gaze focused on a flushed red Oikawa standing across the room. “I have a better idea if you’re up for it.”

Arms crossed against your chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist in faux affection, when in reality you only needed to hear what he said through the loud music. “What do you have in mind?” The smirk on Rintaro’s face was as loud as a warning siren.

“Turn around.”

Even if you didn’t want to, Rintaro wasn’t asking. He spun you around by the shoulders, your back flushed against his chest when you felt his knee nudge between your legs once more. His fingers calloused from playing volleyball snaked past your thigh and dangerously close to your heated pussy. “This is what I had in mind,” he whispered, his voice sending tingles straight down your spine. “Let’s burn that pretty face of yours into his head. Show him what he can’t have.”

Your dignity told you to say no. To be fingered in public like this was less than ideal, even more so when your lace panties dangerously flashed into view. Yet, you found yourself arching your back to retaliate.

Ass nudging against Rintaro’s hardening cock, you smirked upon hearing his low groans. One palm cupped your ass as a warning before he playfully snapped your underwear against your thigh, a wince painting your half fucked out features from the sting. Glancing at him from the side, you sneered, about to protest when he wiggled his free hand and cupped your pussy.

Your mouth hung open.

Oikawa’s drink fell from his hands. No longer was he paying any attention to his friends, rather on the way you keened and your tongue threatening to loll out your lips the moment Rintaro’s thumb flicked your clit.

“You’re such a naughty slut. Who knew you were into this?”

“He’s watching, Rintaro,” you whimpered, gripping at his wrist like he wasn’t knuckle deep in your pants already. “Someone could see and think we’re—”

“That’s the point,” lowering his mouth onto your neck, you gasped at his teeth sinking down on the skin. Behind you, you could hear the hand on your ass disappear at the sounds of a belt unbuckling, fuelling your imagination to both the best and worst scenarios. Rintaro wasn’t far behind in his surprise as were you; you never expected you’d enjoy giving someone a show either, much less cum on the spot the second Rintaro’s cock slipped inside you. “Aw, fuck, did you just come undone for me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You shook your head, palms slippery with sweat as you held onto his slick hands squeezing your waist. The music was no longer audible from the pounding of your heart. Hell, you could barely feel your legs when Rintaro mumbled something incoherent around you before he guided your connected bodies onto a nearby couch.

Plopping down with your weight on top of him, you held onto his knees for dear life. Rintaro settled on the leather couch occupied by a stoned student laughing by himself, the latter’s chuckles halting when he was greeted by the sight of your hazy eyes and pants falling from your mouth. Meanwhile, Rintaro rested his arms on the back of his head. He didn’t have to lift a finger, much less give a command for you to know he wanted you to ride him right here — if you looked straight across, Oikawa would be right before you a few feet away, his frown deeply engraved into his face.

“Rin, I...”

He sat up in a flash at the hesitance in your voice, warm hands wrapping around your waist protectively. It took you a second to realize he hid his nestled cock from everyone’s prying eyes in case you weren’t comfortable, but the gesture did nothing but make you clench around him harder — both from the anxiety and anticipation.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you wanted people to watch. You wanted him to see Rintaro had total control over your body, no matter how humiliating the situation might be.

“Do you want us to stop? Should we go somewhere else?”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you bent your legs to rest beside his thighs, fingers looping around the ones hooked under your breast to steady yourself before you lifted your hips, then slammed back down. Again and again, until sweat dripped from your head to your jaw, you kept eye contact with a red-faced Oikawa. All the while as you bounced on Rintaro’s dick and threw your head back, laughing with your whole chest at the lights spinning from the ceiling since it reminded you of the seventh heaven you were in.

Rintaro let you go at your own pace, his grunts and garbled utterances of your name blending with the party wilding from the background. You could feel him twitching inside of you. His cock bumped and grazed your walls until the tip kissed a particular sensitive spot that had you losing your balance for a moment, nails digging into his ripped jeans to catch your breath.

“Goddamn,” Rintaro cursed, stealing away your ability to breathe with his hand snaking into your neck. “You dirty fucking slut, getting off to acting like a whore in front of the whole campus, huh? Go on. Show them how you’re such a whore for my cock.”

You couldn’t swallow down your words.

Rintaro’s grip on your neck had you on a literal chokehold, strong enough to deprive you of air and tighten around him, but not to a point you felt lightheaded. If anything, the power he displayed only fuelled you to ride him harder. Drawing figure eights with your hip, you could feel drool smearing your lipstick as the red stains smudged against Rintaro’s palm, the sound of slick and skin slapping against skin like music to your ears.

Only Rintaro could ever make you feel this way.

From the night you’d met him, each time you fucked would be the best experience of your life. Not once had he failed in bringing you over the edge or experimenting with the most absurd positions you’d never thought of before, and now you were returning the favour.

You rode his cock like it was your last mission. ‘Death by cock’ didn’t sound like such an unfavourable thing either, not when it meant losing yourself in his thick girth spreading you wide and the lewd sight of your cum sticking to his thighs. His jeans were a mess, but Rintaro never complained. He didn’t care then, and he wouldn’t care now. Seeing you dirty his clothes, your sweat dampening his shirt and your own cum coating his cock like a rewarding trophy of what felt like the best night of his life — Rintaro didn’t give a single fuck about the mess.

“F-Fuck, Rin, I’m coming!”

Rintaro held your waist, taking over with complete control as he slammed your hips up and down his twitching cock, curses falling back and forth from his mouth. “Cum on me,” he ordered. Resting his chin on your shoulders, Rintaro’s other hand twisted your jaw in the direction of Oikawa biting his lip, his hand suspiciously following your movements from under the luminescent lights. “Look at that dirty fucker. Let’s show him what he missed out on, yeah?”

A burst of warmth exploded inside you. You were too stunned to move, thighs burning from the ache that you accepted it with delight before falling back into Rintaro’s chest. “That was the best fuck of my life,” you admitted through lidded eyes, “But we’re fucked tomorrow. The whole campus is going to talk about us.”

“Let them.”

Post-nut clarity hit you hard like a truck.

Albeit expecting the rumours and looks you’d be getting the next day, the blatant impressed stares mixed with some envious ones never got easier by the end of classes. Everywhere you went, people would be whispering. But like Rintaro always used to say each time you cried to him, there’d be light at the end of the tunnel, because the best part of it all that made everything worth it?

Oikawa avoided you like the plague. Not because he was appalled of what he’d witnessed and what he’d done, but rather word spread out how he’d been rejected.

For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru felt humiliation, at the hands of his own teammate, no less — something Rintaro took pride in when you crashed by his room that night.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face. It was priceless,” he snickered while scrolling through the phone, about to comment when the door swung open, revealing a carbon copy replica of Rintaro. In female version.

Rintaro quickly shot out of bed and threw a blanket over your head, stalking to the girl standing with her mouth hanging ajar at the door. “What are you doing here? I thought you guys wouldn’t be home until the weekend. Plus, how’d the fuck you get inside the dorms? You’re not supposed to be here, Remi.”

Remi ignored him. “Are you hiding your girlfriend? Mom needs to know about this, she’d love to meet her!”

That was how you found yourself stuck to Rintaro in a cramped booth with his family not an hour later. You awkwardly picked at your food, stealing glances at an equally silent Rintaro while his younger sister, Remi, kept babbling about how her brother hid a girlfriend this whole time. His family went out of town for business for a while, but since they got home earlier, they decided to surprise Rintaro with a visit.

He sure was surprised, and so were you since they hadn’t stopped calling you ‘dear’ ever since.

His parents were nice — they warmly welcomed you and even invited you to have dinner with them sometime at their house. Mrs. Suna would whip up a meal to welcome you as part of their family, saying that you should consider it a thanks for making their son smile. Remi was the most excited out of all them. She’d been wanting an older sister for a while now, and she hadn’t stopped clinging onto your arm the whole time until her parents forcefully snatched her away when it was time go back home.

The entire walk back to the dorms felt suffocating.

None of you spoke a word, not until you arrived at your building and Rintaro shoved his hands down his pockets, swinging back and forth on his feet. “So... are you free this Friday? You should come have dinner with us.”

“You’re seriously asking me that?”

“Why not? You’re invited. Don’t be rude and not go.”

“It’s not being rude, Rintaro, you’re asking me to lie to your parents,” you snapped, halting in your tracks to stare at him in disbelief. “They adored me all because they think I’m dating you, but we’re not the least bit close to that. We just fuck and call it day, maybe hang out when we’re bored, but we don’t know each other at all. And weren’t you the one who told me that we can’t be more than just fuck buddies?”

Rintaro rolled his eyes. “You’re right, but I agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend to push Oikawa away. Now do me a favour and keep up with the fake girlfriend thing. My parents will be devastated if I tell them we’re not real.”

“I don’t want to lie to them!”

“It’s not a big deal! Why’re you making a mountain out of everything? So because the deal on my side doesn’t require fucking, you’ll back out just like that?”

Your mouth hung open in shock. “It’s because I don’t want to be your fake girlfriend, Rintaro, I want to date you for real!” you blurted out, eyes widening at the same time Rintaro’s cheeks flushed. Realizing what you just said, you inwardly regretted it with a grimace. “I’m sorry. You said we can’t be more than that and I know I just ruined our friendship, but I’m really sorry. I can’t bring myself to lie to your family like that, and I don’t want to lie about my feelings either,” hanging your head down low, you bit the insides of your cheeks. No matter what you said, you couldn’t take it back anymore.

“Rintaro, I like you. You make me happy and I want to do the same for you, but I understand if we’re done now. It was nice to have met you.”

Without waiting for his response, you ran back into the building when a hand wrapped around your wrist. You stared at the long fingers and to the arm connected to it, heart sinking into your chest when you came face to face with Rintaro’s handsome face.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to speak.”

“I’m sure you don’t want to be near me, Rintaro.”

Rintaro sniffed, averting the intensity of your gaze and shrugging his shoulders shly. “On the contrary... I’d like to spend every waking minute with you,” he mumbled so soft that you wouldn’t have heard it if you didn’t listen hard enough, but you did, and you were left gaping at him with warmth spreading through your skin. You stood there, watching as Rintaro laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry if I said that a little too late, but yes. I’d like to be your real boyfriend. Then I can fuck you exclusively because I don’t think I like the idea of you riding other people like that.”

You swatted his arm away with a laugh. “That’s the reason you want to date me?”

“There’s other reasons too like how I love talking to you and I want to get to know you more,” he cupped your face, grinning when his palms felt the warmth emanating from your skin. “And also, I want to do this more with you.”

Leaning down, Rintaro kissed you under the flickering lights of your hallway, the both of your lips stretching into a smile. In a way, you were thankful your friends tried setting you up with someone else, because if you’d known it would lead you to realizing your feelings for Rintaro, you would’ve asked him to date you a little earlier.

#suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader fluff #suna x reader smut #suna rintaro smut #suna rintaro x reader smut #suna x you #suna x you fluff #suna x you smut #rintaro suna x reader #suna x reader romance #suna rintaro x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #suna rintarou smut #suna rintarou x reader smut #rintaro x reader smut #🖤. after dark

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circeyoru · 4 months ago

Text

Loyalty of The Shadow _ Part 3 *END*

[Sung Jinwoo x Friend!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 (here)

“Arise!”

[YOU FAILED TO EXTRACT THE SHADOW.]

[YOU STILL HAVE TWO CHANCES REMAINING.]

“Arise!!”

[YOU FAILED TO EXTRACT THE SHADOW.]

[YOU STILL HAVE ONE CHANCE REMAINING.]

“No… I can’t lose you…” Jinwoo hugged your cold body close, ignoring all the blood that dirtied his clothing or the scene he was making in front of his Shadows who watched with bated undead breath. “I shouldn’t have been with Hunter Cha… I shouldn’t have let you leave…”

It all happened within less than an hour. Jinwoo heard from Igris—with the help of Beru, who was the only Shadow to speak—that you left for some time alone and wanted to be completely alone. He thought it was fine as long as you were near him and he could go to you the moment he was done with Hae-In. But it took longer than expected and look what that led to.

You were the target of some people that saw Jinwoo through a negative lens. Since it was impossible to harm the S-Rank, it was simpler to put their anger and envy on people close to him. You happened to be unguarded at the worst time possible. When he got the news from his patrolling Shadows, it was already too late. Your body was cold and you had lost too much blood for his potions to do anything.

Jinwoo pleaded, he wished, he begged, he hoped. This was his last chance.

“Arise.”

From your body, misty tendrils formed and flickered around until it started to create a figure he was all too familiar with. There was you, standing before him with purple eyes and a body of shadow and darkness, dressed in what appeared to be robes like a mage—just like Min Byung-Gyu—but also some form of armour at the joints, everything outlined by neon purple like his Shadows.

[SHADOWS HIGHER THAN RANK KNIGHT CAN BE NAMED.]

It was weird that you could be named, and even more bizarre that you were ranked as high as Igris was when he was first extracted. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was what to name you. It felt wrong to give you your original name because this was just a Shadow version of you, but then he can’t just give you another name.

Just then, he had the answer. He stared at you in the eye and brushed his thumb across your cheek. “Blank. You’ll answer to that from now on.”

His heart ached when you bowed to him with a hand over your heart area. Your gaze fixated on him when you straightened up, and there was wonder and eagerness in your eyes that he couldn’t help but be reminded of your memories.

Well, he might as well say it now. Still, with all his perceptive point investment, he somehow failed to notice his Shadows giving you a particular look. Particularly Beru and Igris, who appeared most fidgety, as if they had something to tell but couldn’t.

“I have loved you for so long… Will always love you. I am so sorry for letting that happen to you. I should have protected you. I should have been with you.” Jinwoo leaned down where his forehead lightly touched yours and his eyes closed. “I love you.”

Hm!

Jinwoo’s eyes opened with confusion. The sound was way too close to be from the outside source. Not to mention… He raised his head and stared at the Shadow newly added to his army. He definitely felt a flinch from this Shadow. His eyes narrowed as he eyed the Shadow that stiffened for no reason. “Hey…”

Your eyes blinked and somehow avoided his gaze. Which was weird already since his Shadows never does something like this. They never act this human, nor were they affected by what he says on an emotional level. This was very suspicious.

“Is there something you want to say to me?” Jinwoo’s eyes stayed glued to your facial expressions.

You shook your head and made a cross with your arms in front of your face, anything to shield you from Jinwoo’s intense gaze.

“It is you, isn’t it?” Jinwoo sighed your original name. “Stop acting.”

You tried maintaining your Shadow act as much as possible. It was too much and you ended up nodding in defeat with a droopy attitude.

“How is this possible?” Jinwoo questioned aloud as his eyes widened, bewildered by the relaxed posture you suddenly took after your admission. You were acting the same as before, like nothing has changed and he didn’t just extract your shadow from your dead body. Wasn’t there an urge of loyalty placed on you that directed your attention to him? A force that compelled you to act inhuman?

You shrugged and pointed at your neck, no, throat to be more specific. Your mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

“Are you saying ‘you can’t speak’?” Jinwoo guessed your meaning.

You nodded enthusiastically and clapped your hands with a smile. Your lips moved, but once more, Jinwoo couldn’t hear anything from you.

“My Queen is calling you smart and quick on the uptake, My Liege.” Beru spoke up suddenly, his wings fluttered with pride as he was now more important, being a bridge between his master and his master’s love.

“You can understand?!”

“I can understand you now!?”

Both Jinwoo and you exclaimed. The two of you looked back at each other and giggled. Soon, some changes were made. Instead of Beru watching over his mother and younger sister, Jinwoo had a legion of knights, mages, orcs, ice bears, and ants to guard them. Since Beru was the only one who could deliver your words to him, Beru had to be close by.

Then he wondered how you could have your voice back. His only answer was to raise your rank. However, sending you into battles was something he swore he’d never do to you. He wanted to protect you, but not have you serve him. Now that you weren’t any ordinary Shadow but something akin to a reincarnation of yourself, he can’t do this to you.

“My Liege.” Beru’s words brought him out of his thoughts. “My Queen wants to fight as well.”

“Nonsense. I won’t allow it.” Jinwoo spoke without missing a beat. “Never.”

Beru continued to relay your words, “My Queen wants to fight your battles with you, to be next to you. Rather than listening to your hardships.”

Jinwoo looked over to you, who was busy mingling with his Shadows, seemingly trying out a sword or a mage’s staff. Needless to say, the Shadows were ecstatic to finally communicate with you, even though it was your death and their master’s powers that allowed it. Still, they all made the best of things and kept you busy.

“We will ensure The Queen is never in danger, My Liege.” Beru promised.

It wasn’t like he and the other Shadows wanted their master’s beloved to fight alongside them. Yes, it’s an honour. But they shared their master’s worry when it came to your safety and health. When you told the Shadows this, they were against it until they heard your reasoning behind it. You wanted to be able to talk to Jinwoo again, to accept his confession by your own voice. For you, too, saw this as your second chance in life or the afterlife.

Jinwoo sighed, though a small smile was on his lips. “I could never say no when it comes to that, huh? Fine.”

As if you heard the resolve, your head turned over to Jinwoo while you waved with a beaming smile, not caring that you were swinging a sword in the air.

“Let’s do some levelling up.”

Note: Welp, first one of the Christmas update is out~ And this is the end of this series. Thanks for following this series! (even though I never planned for it to last this long)

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist: @lunavixia @o-qi-shisme @skylar896 @marydragneell @bri602 @posionapple24 @akemityan @shaq-27 @the-dumber-scaramouche @mydearestbeloved @icefox8155 @loudlylovingcreator-blog @kaeyasoccs @rozuburedo @shineinouzen15

#Circe's Nighty Writings #Solo Leveling #Only I Can Level Up #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling jinwoo #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo #Loyalty of The Shadow

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hivemuthur · 4 days ago

Note

hello hive, I'm glad you opened your requests 🎀

viktor and reader both are students in the academy and go to the library most of the time. One day Viktor found a handwritten note left between the pages of a book, it may be a question about something in the book with no name or anything and viktor decided to answer it before returning the book, days later he was curious if the mysterious person answered and they did, and added another note to him, over time it turns to a habit, talking about studying, telling eachother about their day, gossip and unspoken confessions about how they enjoy their talks, until one day one of them didn't answer for a while and made the other worried and desperate for their reply (idk if the last thing is a good choice but i want it to be a slow burn, and i want them to kiss passionately at the end of this 🤧 so i leave this to you)

Hi Anon! Sorry this took so long!

Bookends

viktorxgn!reader, but viktor-centric for the most part, general/mature - some pining and making out :v

word count: 2,5K

author’s note: Artist of course is @petitesieste.

—

How does one truly know when they've crossed a line between curiosity and obsession?

It falls out of an old textbook on mechanical theory as Viktor flips through the pages. A question he himself has asked glares at him mockingly from a small piece of paper wedged into the book’s spine. The script is barely legible, written in haste and left there—intentionally or not, he doesn’t know. But the very nature of the question is what compels him to answer.

Perhaps when the object of your curiosity becomes something you can't stop thinking about, even when you should be focused on something else.

His handwriting is almost too precise for the nature of the exchange, a stark contrast to the wobbly letters on the parchment. He folds it neatly in half, redoing the uneven crease, and places it back in its spot.

And then, Viktor thinks nothing of it.

For an entire week, the memory lingers at the back of his mind, barely a passing thought—until his feet carry him to the academy library once more. He beelines toward the mechanical engineering section, eyes scanning the spines until he spots it: the same textbook as before, wedged tightly between others, sticking out by an inch, as if put back in a hurry.

Excitement shakes his hand as he reaches for it and takes it to a secluded corner obscured by bookshelves. He flips through the pages in one sweep, his heart skipping—only to deflate when he realises it’s just a dog-ear. And of all pages, it’s on one of the most unremarkable.

He sighs, leaning back on his chair when he sees it—the tiniest triangle of white peeking from under the cover. He opens the book’s end and there it is, another note. Fresh paper, though folded roughly, like the last one. Writing less surgeon-like too.

What if the object of my curiosity is also the one I should be focusing on? What then?

Viktor smiles under his nose, breath light, forming into a chuckle as he conjures an answer. He wishes his tone—teasing and gentle—could be poured into paper and hopes you will read his good intentions from it.

Then you must ask yourself—are you studying it, or surrendering to it?

He stares at it a little while longer, finally deciding no touch-ups are needed. Like last time, he puts corner to corner, edge to edge, as his neat fold overrides yours—uncaring and hasty. He places it at the book’s end and wedges it back onto the shelf.

Next, only three days go by before Viktor finds himself lurking in the library again. He doesn’t even pretend it’s for any reason other than a quick trip to his now-favourite section.

When he opens the book and sees the same piece of paper insistently folded at an angle, he can’t help but think this is you making some point. And then he knows—that intended tone of his was, indeed, not read as he wished for.

I am not surrendering to anything. IT consumes me—do not presume this is a consensual capitulation!

Oh. Something sinks in him. Quickly, as if scribbling would fix it in an instant, he bleeds his apology in ink, letters less neat than usual.

Forgive me, I did not mean to intrude like this. I hoped you’d read my tone as light, but jest doesn’t transfer to paper, it would seem. You can speak freely, I promise I won’t judge.

To reinforce his pliancy, this time Viktor doesn’t iron the page out with his palm. This time, he folds it just as it was—crooked—as if telling you he’s on your side.

What his heart does when the next little letter he finds is folded neatly is indescribable.

No harm done, forgive my short temper. And thank you, truly. I’m just afraid I’m going mad, my secret confidant.

Viktor sighs. A breath leaves him, leaving a smile behind—and a blush. Secret confidant is such an intimate title; his heart flutters again, and he writes down a question before his brain manages to deem it too eager.

Am I a secret of yours?

Scratch that. Again, scratch. Scratch, until it is obscured enough, Viktor thinks. Instead, he writes:

What are the symptoms of your madness? And the object of the curiosity? Or, should I say, obsession?

As a sign of good will, he folds unevenly.

It’s day by day now. Sometimes twice, as he swings by the library in the evening, just to check. One evening, it proves worthwhile, as you’ve replied sometime in the afternoon.

I keep things close to my heart a secret, so nobody takes them from me.

Scratched—yet not enough to obscure the text. His heart swoons at the thought of how carefully you must have traced each letter, deciphering his attempt at confining the reckless scribble. Further on, you say:

Patterns. I see them everywhere I go; they haunt me day and night. My friend is sick of me, says not everything has a meaning. What do you think?

For a minute, Viktor closes his eyes. Uncanny, how the universe has thrown him someone equally tormented—and by the same hand, too. He rubs his thumb over the paper, caressing it, as if you could somehow feel the comfort meant to be given through the gesture. Then, with a soft smile, he writes:

I’m afraid I might be the worst thing that has happened to you, as I wholeheartedly agree—there is a pattern in everything. But therefore, I don’t think it is obsession, but loneliness you are experiencing.

He presses it to his chest before folding it. Then, he adds:

You are my secret, too.

Bravely, he scratches it out with one neat line only. And it requires a heart emboldened with courage because Viktor feels as if he’s just exposed himself in a way he never has before. When your next message arrives, he’s relieved that the effort proved worthy.

If you are the worst, why do I feel less lonely?

It’s a rhetorical question, which I believe you know, but also, given the history of our past conversations, I wouldn’t be surprised if you answered it in some elaborate way. I will be blunt then: thank you for making me feel less lonely.

Can you tell me what’s the most recent pattern you’ve noticed? I observed that Professor Heimerdinger’s poro acts uneasy when one of my classmates, who is particularly fond of unsolicited petting, sits at the front bench during lab class. As soon as the poro gets disturbed, the professor’s attention splits, and his test questions are hasty. I tend not to do well without a properly structured quiz, so as soon as I see his grabby hands—no, as soon as I see him sit his ass in that front chair—I know my quiz score will be lower than usual.

So many words from you make Viktor feel blessed. He reads them over and over again, and three things strike him. One—you’ve said he makes you feel less lonely. Two—you take class with Heimerdinger, so as the professor’s assistant, he’s most likely already seen you. And three—you keep these conversations with you. That’s why it’s a new piece of paper each time.

That is both a fascinating and highly practical observation. It seems you have developed a contingency plan for academic sabotage, courtesy of a poro and an inconsiderate classmate. I admire the ingenuity—though I must ask, have you considered distracting the poro yourself?

I, too, have been noticing patterns lately. One in particular stands out: my favourite book in this library always seems to shift slightly out of place before I get to it, as if someone has touched it before me. I wonder, do you think this is a coincidence?

I’m glad you feel less lonely. I do too.

From this, it just flows. Stories, jokes, gossip (apparently Heimerdinger has a lady friend that Viktor had no idea about?), heartfelt confessions sometimes—you even left him some doodles. Attached to the main paper with a paperclip, you wrote a short note: This one is for you. Heimerdinger’s poro asleep under a desk, a sweet way to say thank you for his idea of diversion against that one student’s grabby hands.

And Viktor feels ridiculous, blushing to himself as he writes longer and longer messages, almost letters at this point. He scans the classroom when he pops in to pick up Heimerdinger’s notes, wondering which face belongs to you, visiting the library three times a day, poking at the already worn-out tome, until—one day, it’s gone.

Borrowed.

A gaping hole in your communication method that neither of you had even considered. He rushes to the reception desk to check who took the book, but the grumpy librarian refuses to provide such information.

Days pass without a message from you, and with the book still gone, Viktor finds himself at his wit’s end. Shoulders hulking sullenly, brows furrowed, and mouth lopsided, he steps into the dusty rooms on any given occasion, until the sodden thought runs through him—he misses you.

Instead of leaving such a great revelation to something as gambable as fate, he decides to go to the source. He takes his usual seat in the secluded corner, scribbles down a few words on a note, and waits. He half-stands each time when someone enters the dim corridor made of books, only to retreat, deeming it the wrong section.

Until someone’s shuffling feet walk timidly between the bookshelves. Lips sucked between teeth, hand tracing the spines, and, finally, a disappointed sigh.

And he can’t help himself when he asks, “Is something the matter?”

“Oh,” you startle, glancing toward him. You instinctively step back, your gaze briefly dropping before meeting his. "Viktor, I did not see you there," you say, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, as if you've been caught in the act. “Uh, have you by any chance seen that one old textbook on mechanical theory?”

That’s it, Viktor thinks. He almost says too much, because oh, your voice is sweet and you... you are so heart-wrenchingly pretty, he has no idea what he’s done to deserve such kind fate. But he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t test the theory first.

“Sadly, no.” Viktor puts on a schooled pout, shaking his head and taking a step toward you. “I have been hoping to find it too, but it has been rented out some time ago.”

“Oh—” you say, your brow furrowing slightly. Trying not to give away that you’ve already picked up whatever Viktor has put down and are currently playing with it in your hands, you ask innocently, “What’s… what’s your interest in it?”

Another step. "Other than me being an engineer myself?" Viktor’s lips twitch slightly, a trace of a smile. "I have a..." he says, slowly extending his hand toward yours, fingers brushing as he slips you a tiny piece of paper, "personal relationship with it, in a manner of speaking."

You stare at him for a long moment before unwrapping the paper tube.

I missed our talks. V.

“It’s you,” you whisper into the note. “Oh, I was hoping it would be you,” you whisper again, louder and breathy, clutching the sheet to your chest. When his brows furrow in question, you explain, “Your handwriting—it’s very neat. I’ve seen it once or twice and, uh… it got my attention.”

He smiles, and there is a ghost of blush dusting his cheeks. “Would you… be willing to participate in some verbal conversation from now on then?” Viktor asks, leaning into your ear. It’s a library, after all.

You breathe a soft, airy yes, and your lips brush against his cheek, the touch lingering there, leaving warmth behind. He pulls back slowly, breath held up. He licks his lips, eyes scanning your face, seeking. He’s been so far all this time, now closer than ever, and the space between you, even though small, is charged, taut like a bowstring.

Your hands meet, and his fingers weave through yours, long enough to reach your wrist. He hooks his cane onto a nearby shelf, its gentle clang against the wood unnoticed by either of you, and presses his forehead to yours, his warmth seeping into you.

"I missed you too," you murmur, the words clinging to the air between you. Your lips brush against his, just the lightest touch—an accident, or perhaps not. But Viktor’s lips press back with a soft, almost apologetic insistence, as though he’d waited for you far too long.

His mouth moves against yours with purpose, slow at first but hungry, needy. His breath quickens, deepens in tandem with yours. He steps closer, crowding you against the bookshelf, the hard wood pressing into your back as he leans into you. You arch into him, your fingers tightening around his hand, pulling him closer. His body is warm against yours, and the kiss deepens—faster, more urgent, the world around you fading to nothing.

And oh, just as your conversations on paper, the conversation between your tongues is seamless. They smooth over each other, pushing in when the other retreats and retreating when the other demands access.

Viktor’s hand moves to your waist, firm, gentle, and before you can think of resisting, he’s pressing you harder into the bookends. The coolness of the wood bites into your back, but it’s quickly forgotten as his body crowds you, a wall of heat and taut sinew and bone.

Mouth on mouth, insistent, with his teeth gently scraping over your lower lip, Viktor drowns in the sounds you make, guides your hands into his hair, and groans when you pull at his nape. You can feel the weight of him, the hard edge of his cane still wedged against the shelf beside you, but it matters not, as truly, neither of you is lonely anymore.

His lips break from yours as he presses his forehead to yours, both of you gasping for breath.

“That’s not a verbal conversation,” Viktor murmurs, his voice hoarse, as if the words themselves are a struggle. There’s a trace of a smile in his tone, but it’s swallowed quickly as you crane your neck to steal another kiss. Between smacks and bites, he mutters again, “You sure are very brilliant at pattern recognition.”

“Thank you, I have been obsessing over it for quite some time,” you mumble back, fisting his shirt. “I just didn’t expect the answer, of all places, to be at the end of a mechanical engineering textbook.”

“Thank gods I read from cover to cover,” Viktor smiles and sinks his lips back onto yours.

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