#I wish this didn’t happen and things could go back to how they used to be | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

godmadeaterribleerror · 2 days ago

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All I've Wanted Was You

Main Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, smut (fingering, oral f!receiving, p in v sex), angst, light fluff, humor, no use of y/n, friends with benefits, love confessions

Summary: You have an arrangement with Bucky. You sleep together, and nothing more. Every time is supposed to be the last time. You love him too much keep this up and pretend it's not killing you.

But it might be killing him too.

Author's Note: Request from @wintersoldierchronicles! I had SO much fun with it, and it got (as expected) emotional. I am what I am. Enjoy!

Word Count: 5.7k

He’s giving you the look again. The one that he’s promised not to give you anymore, because it makes you both break promises, and shatters your heart into a million little, glowing pieces every time.

And Bucky always picks up the pieces, after. He doesn’t know what he’s doing—or that he’s the one who broke you in the first place—but he’s good at cleaning up after himself. He makes his bed every morning. His guns and knives are always polished and well-cared for, and his plates are cleaned with his hands before he puts them in the dishwasher, because that’s how his ma raised him. He folds all his laundry, never has dust on his floor, and never wears boxer two days in a row. All his trash finds it’s way into the can, and then the bag gets taken out over his shoulder because no matter how many times Tony tells him he has robots and people to do that instead, Bucky insists on doing it himself.

It’s one of the reasons you love him.

And that’s exactly why he can’t give you that look. He promised he’d stop it. You’d promised you’d stop indulging it.

But if Bucky’s good at cleaning up, you’re good at making messes. There’s always a little wrapper empty can on your desk—Bucky always throws it out for you—and you tend to wait until you can smell it to change your sheets. You’ve been wearing the same bra for two weeks, and you have one pair of heeled boots where the sole is coming apart, but they still work, so you’re still using them. You had to throw out your last laptop, because five coffee spills were apparently too much for it to handle. People don’t hand you weapons anymore, after Nat gave you a dart gun for safety and you ended up shooting yourself in the thigh. Tony has an extra robot for your apartment.

But Bucky cleans it anyway, whenever he gives you the look, and finds his way back into your bed.

“Don’t know how it’s this bad every time,” he’d muttered a few weeks back, folding your towels with a small frown.

He didn’t need to do that. You wish he wouldn’t. It’s domestic, and it makes this—you and Bucky, though there isn’t really a you and Bucky—feel far too real.

You’d shrugged, watching him move around from the bed. “I spend every day cleaning up your messes, Barnes. That’s where all the energy for this,” You’d mad a sweeping gesture around the room. “Goes.”

“Hey.” Bucky had given you a mockingly stern look and pointed finger. “I haven’t done anything, for like a month.”

“Steve hasn’t done anything in three years.”

“Yeah, but the last thing he did was become a war criminal, doll. That had you on overtime.”

“And who did he become a war criminal for?”

Bucky had rolled his eyes. “Shut up. And the last thing I did wasn’t even that bad.”

“You punched the governor.”

“He called you a whore.” Bucky had glared down at your trash. “I woulda done worse, if I didn’t know it would come back to bite your ass.”

You’d sighed. “Bucky-“

“And I never mean to make mess for you.” He’d muttered, giving you an almost puppy-like look, and you’d wanted to vault off the bed so you could wrap yourself around him and never let go. “Just happens. If I was in charge, we’d all be on perfect fuckin’ behavior, all the time.”

“Well, thank you.” You’d given him a soft, gentle smile, and he’d relaxed slightly. “And I’m not mad about it, Bucky. It’s my job. And I’m good at it.”

“You are.” He’d said under his breath, his tongue flicking out between his lips, and his words had sounded like they were mostly for himself. “Use a lot of pretty words, when you do it. Could make a man jump off a cliff just by asking him to believe the wind would catch him.”

You’d blinked at him, having no fucking idea what that meant, but Bucky just continued, his voice raising back up.

“But I make it harder-“

“No, you don’t. It’s not your fault people are dumb and don’t understand how brainwashing works.” You’d given him a pointed look. “And nothing you do could be worse than the Nat Burrito-Stripper-Arson incident. And she never cleans up my room for me.”

Bucky’s lip had twitched. You’d counted it as a victory. “I’m gonna do your laundry too.”

“What a gentleman.”

“Only for you, doll.” He’d shrugged, and gone back to his self-inflicted mission.

That was one of the ways he picks up the pieces. Even if he doesn’t love you, Bucky really does care about you. So much. It’s one of the reasons this can’t happen. You don’t know what you’ll do if you lose him forever.

But the look is getting more pleading. Shining blue eyes on yours, raised brows that have a question and a promise, something dangerously close to hope all over his handsome features.

You don’t know how to say no to him. You’ve been trying to get better at it, but you also love him, and want him always. So you’re not quite there yet.

When you smile at him, the recognition flashes over Bucky as his jaw clenches, he blinks once—which, for Bucky, is basically jumping with joy—and turns back to his conversation with Steve and Sam.

You both have to get through the rest of the night. One of Tony’s dumb little cocktail parties that’s mandatory, for a united front, and neither of you will be able to escape. You’d tried once, and that’s the only time you’d almost gotten caught. Steve had gone looking for Bucky because it was Steve, and Tony had gone looking for you because apparently the head of PR needed to be easily accessible.

You and Bucky had made promises that time, too.

“That was…” He’d looked at you over the kitchen counter that morning, his words slow and measured. “Close. Last night.”

You’d hummed, staring down at the coffee in your mug. It had long gone cold. You’d been clinging to it and pretending to drink it for an hour, because it gave you a good excuse to wait for Bucky. But it was bitter. And a little shitty, because Tony had been fucking with the machine again.

“We shouldn’t do that again.” Bucky had muttered, and you’d only nodded. “I don’t want to get caught, and then have Steve and Stark down our necks-“

“I know.” You’d whispered, forcing your gaze onto his. And that was a different look, in his eyes. Further away. Untouchable.

Reminding you that, at the end of the day, Bucky’s not yours to touch or have or wait for. Just like you don’t have a good enough reason to be his.

“That was the last time.” You’d said it like it didn’t rip you in half, and Bucky had nodded.

“Alright. Good.” He hadn’t walked away. You’d wish he would.

You could’ve fallen apart again in peace, if he had.

“Are we still good for the whole aquarium thing tomorrow?” He’d asked, and you’d shrugged.

“It’s a team event. I organized it. You have to be there.”

“Yeah, but, uh-“ Bucky had cleared his throat, his tongue flicking out between his lips, his gaze dropping to the kitchen counter. “I was kind of plannin’ on just following you around.”

God. He kept saying things like that. All the fucking time, and it was a little cruel, but you know he didn’t mean it be. He had—has—no idea that you dream about him and feel colder when he’s not there and look for him in every room, even when you know he’s not going to be there. Just in case, you always look.

He’d muttered your name, and you’d just given him a small smile.

“As long as we look at the jellyfish.”

Bucky had nodded slowly. “Jellyfish. Got it.” Then he’d smiled. A wide, toothy, real smile that so few people got to see. You don’t know how you earned Bucky’s smile-list.

You know you’re never going to risk your spot on it. So you’d smiled back, and said nothing else because the words might transform into I love you.

After he’d left the kitchen, you’d dumped the coffee down the sink, and sworn to yourself that that, the close call, was really the last time.

It’s been six more last times since then. There had been the last time at the aquarium, and the last time after a meeting, three last times on random days where nothing had happened, but you’d caved anyway, and the last time when he’d shown up at your door after a mission, and you’d taken him in without a question.

And now it’s seven last times.

But this one, this one for certain, will be the real last time. To save yourself, this has to be the real last time.

So you might as well make it count.

You drift through the rest of the party, smiling at the people Tony tells you to smile at, shaking hands and making soft-edged jokes about your job, keeping Bucky in your periphery because you can’t fucking help yourself. You tell yourself it’s to see when he gives the signal, but in reality, it’s because you need to see him. Need to torture yourself every time a pretty woman glides over to his side and touches his arm—never the metal one, they never touch the metal arm and it makes you hate them��because maybe he’ll change his mind and want her instead.

It would be a mercy, in a way. Take away the torment of knowing you’re going to have him, then need to leave before morning.

You always leave before morning. The only time you’re allowed to linger is when you’ve fucked in the daylight, and you start talking like nothing’s happened at all. It breaks you a little more every time.

But you still go. You love him, and you don’t have the strength of all the gods and heroes around you, so you always go.

The night starts to die down. Couples drift off with their hands tangled together, or they drop onto the couch and give each other little smiles—the kind that tells you that, to them, they’re the only two people into the world—and you stand in the corner, alone.

Bucky gives you the signal, as he moves to the door. Two hands casually behind his back one gloved palm splayed open.

Five minutes, before you can follow him.

They’re the longest five minutes of your life. You chew on the ice at the bottom of your glass until your fingers are sort of numb, but you don’t really care.

Bucky will warm them up.

It’s hard not to run to his room, when you know he’s waiting. For you.

Bucky’s waiting for you.

You’ve barely even knocked on the door when it swings open, and Bucky pulls you inside.

There’s no foreplay. There’s never foreplay, because that would imply something intimate and sacred.

But this is sacred. Only to you, but all the same. Every single second Bucky offers you is holy. To him it’s just hunger. A god starved, asking you to leave him an offering while you’re still in his favor.

That’s what this is supposed to be. You’re supposed to kiss with teeth for a minute, then you’ll fall to your knees to please him. He’ll take a fist full of your hair and guide you up and down his cock, fucking your mouth until you’re choking on him and moaning, before he pulls almost all the way out, and cums.

He never settles for only cumming in your mouth or on your tits. He has a habit of angling himself perfectly so that you swallow half of it, and the rest spreads everywhere. Then he’s supposed to drag up into another violent kiss, and fuck you however he wants.

But that’s not what’s happening.

This kiss is longer. Deeper. Bucky’s mouth almost fully overtakes yours, his tongue pressing on you lower lip until you open for him, and then he’s running it over your teeth and down your throat, like he’s trying to plant himself into you. His hands are handling you softly. Holding you at the curve of your back and pressing your body right into his, until all you can sense is Bucky. All you can hear are his slow grunts rolling through you—born from only kissing you—and all you can taste is the whiskey on his breath, that he probably only drank because Nat handed it to him, and he’s scared of her. And you can smell his cologne, and when your eyes flutter open for half a second you can watch his nose bump yours, and feel-

You can feel Bucky everywhere. The hand that’s not holding you is starting to trail over your thighs, closer to where you’re aching for him, and-

This isn’t right. You’re supposed to get on your knees, and then earn him fingering you back. And you try to pull away and sink down, but Bucky just tugs you right back up, and slams his lips back over yours.

“Bucky,” you gasp, pushing a little on his chest because this isn’t supposed to be about you. “Wait-“

He stops immediately, his furrowing in concern. “Are you o-“

“I’m okay.” You mumble, playing with the fabric of his shirt. “You didn’t do anything, Buck, I just- I’m-“ Supposed to isn’t right. That makes it sound like he makes you, and he doesn’t. “What about you?”

Bucky frowns, his hand still resting on your thigh. “What about me?”

“You’re- You know.” You flush, keeping your gaze firmly fixed on your hands as your voice drops to a whisper. “Blowjob.”

He relaxes against you immediately, and you don’t get it. You’ve done something wrong. You’re supposed to be serving him.

And you definitely don’t get his low chuckle, or why his expression is so soft when he tugs your hair back, forcing your gaze onto his.

“We can skip the blowjob tonight, babygirl.”

That’s not fair. He can’t babygirl you right now. “But-“

“Look, I-“ He sighs, shaking his head at something you don’t understand. “I know you wanna, and I don’t not want it, you’re- Jesus, you’re so fucking good at that, but tonight, lemme take care of you. Please.”

That’s not what this is about. And he said tonight like there will be more nights, and there will be, but you’re not supposed to acknowledge that.

But he said please.

And he pulled out the babygirl.

You nod, the movement smaller than you want it to be, and Bucky grins.

“Good. Alright- Yeah.” He presses another perfect, too-soft kiss to your lips. “Tell me what you want.”

Whatever he wants. As long as Bucky’s offering it, you want it.

You don’t think he’ll care for that answer.

“I- I dunno-“

“Yeah, you do.” He’s kissing a line down your throat as he speaks. That’s not fair either, because it makes your head fuzzy, and you forget how to lie. “C’mon, doll. Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

Your answer slips out without thought, and you’re lucky. Bucky doesn’t read into it. He just groans, and you feel his bulge twitch slightly against you.

His hand slides up to cup your pussy, right over your underwear, and you moan lewdly into his ear.

“So fucking wet already.” He mutters against your neck, and you nod a little stupidly in agreement. “C’mon. Be creative. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

He slaps your cunt once, and your nails dig into his shoulders as you try to stay upright. “Bucky-“

“You can do it, babygirl. Anythin’ you want, just tell me and I’ll get it for you.” Bucky starts to rub his palm back and forth, and you might fly out of your skin. “Use all those pretty words you’ve got, tell me.”

That’s his Sargent voice.

You don’t know how to disobey his Sargent voice.

“I want you to touch me.” You whisper, and Bucky’s eyes shoot back up to yours. “With the metal arm. Until I can’t fucking stand. Then toss me around. And catch me. And taste me, fuck-“ You’re turning yourself on, and Bucky’s blown-out, lustful gaze isn’t helping. “I want you to taste me, Bucky, you- you do this fucking thing with your tongue all the time and I love it and I want it on me and shit-“

Bucky mutters your name in a low warning, but you’re on a roll, and you don’t know how to stop.

“I was to cum on your face, because sometimes it- Fuck, it gets caught in your beard and that’s so hot, and then I was you to fuck me stupid and hard and rough, and keep touching me, don’t stop touching me, Bucky, please. I want to feel it, baby, I need to feel you tomorrow, please.”

You take a long, heavy breath, and maybe you pushed it too far. He’s just staring at you. What if he’d expected you to say something gentle, and you said that. What if that was a test, and you failed it. And Bucky wouldn’t test you like that, but he’s still staring at you, and it’s a hungry, borderline animalistic stare, but he’s not moving or speaking or-

“Tell me if it’s too much.” He mutters, and it’s almost a growl. “I need you to promise me you’ll tell me if it’s too much.”

You nod, trying not to show your eager desperation on your face. “I promise. Please, Bucky. Please.”

His throat bobs, his metal fingers slowly hooking around your panties. “Hold on.”

Your arms wrap around Bucky’s neck right as his fingers shove into your cunt, and he hadn’t lied.

He’s giving you exactly what you asked for.

Not a single part of your instructions gets neglected or ignore. Bucky seems to have given himself a mission to follow them, and he already knows what you like, and this might kill you.

He starts with the touching. Your underwear is ripped off with your entire dress, and tossed into a far, unimportant corner of the room. A metal finger pushes right into your cunt, pumping in and out, faster and faster until you’re moaning. His palm still rubbing right against your clit, his fingers never slowing, and you can feel it, already you can feel the pleasure in your core-

“Want more, doll?”

You moan at Bucky’s voice, right in your ear, and grind down onto his hand.

His chuckle is dark, and you know he understands. “Yes, ma’am.”

Two fingers. You’re so fucking full and it’s only two fingers, but he’s moving so fast and your knees feel weak, your nails scratching and clawing at Bucky’s neck to remain on your feet-

“Let go,” Bucky mutters your name in your ear, and you’re a little worried he can read your mind. “I’ve got you.”

He’s got you. Bucky’s got you.

Your orgasm hits you with a heady warmth that spreads everywhere, over your nerves and into your mouth as a you moan, right to your fingers as you cling to Bucky, and your legs give out.

He catches you. He’s got you, and his touch is so gentle as he continues to roll your clit between his thumb and forefinger, pushing you right back up to the edge.

“Bucky,” you whine, shivering slightly as he kisses over your collarbone. “I- I’m gonna cum again-“

“Hold it.” He mutters, and you squeak as he fucking pinches your clit. “You’re cumming on my face next, babygirl, and you need to be ready-“

“I am ready-“

“Nah.” He draws back up, giving you a grin that can only be described as wicked. “Not for what I’m plannin’ with you.”

Your eyes widen, but Bucky’s already moving on.

Tossing you down onto the bed, barely giving you a second to settle before he’s prowling over you, shoving your thighs apart and looking at your dripping pussy with something impossibly close to awe.

“So fucking wet for me, doll.” He mutters, shaking his head. “I can’t- You’re a damn angel, letting me taste you-“

“Bucky,” you whine again. It’s dangerous, how easy he does this to you. “Please-“

His grip on your thighs tightens, as you start to grind up into the air. “Need you to stay still. Can you be good for me and stay still?”

Oh, God. “Yes,” you whisper, and his grin is dangerous.

“Yes, what?”

You hate it when he does that. There’s nothing in the world that’s going to stop you from giving him what he wants, and he fucking knows it, too.

Asshole. Handsome, perfect, stupid James Barnes is an asshole, and you’re going to give him exactly what he wants.

“Yes, sir.”

“There you go.” Bucky hums, running two fingers between the puffy lips of your cunt. “Good girl.”

He dives down before you can think of something smart to say. Then thinking flies out the window all together, because he’s going to make you fly out of your skin and fucking ascend.

He’s doing the tongue thing. Bucky’s doing the tongue thing, right against you, over and over as he eats you out like it’s the end of the fucking world if he doesn’t. Working you into a frenzy on your clit before dropping to your cunt and tongue-fucking you until you’re humping his face. He’s not trying to restrain your movements. Given how he’s groaning, and his hips are jerking against the bed, he’s liking how your thighs are squeezing his head and you’re writhing below him.

And you’re so close. So fast, you’re right back on the edge, and the heat building is a little different, and fuck, he’s so fucking good at this, why is he so fucking good at this-

You make a high sound that’s supposed to be a warning, but just comes out a raw sound of need.

Bucky understands.

And he doubles down.

A new coil in your stomach snaps, when Bucky’s tongue presses flat on your clit, rolling it, and this orgasm is hot and wet. You’ve never been this wet in your fucking life, and never been the wet from before until you met Bucky, but this is different. This like a flood between your legs, and your back is arching off the bed as Bucky keeps his face pressed right against your sex, and you feel a little molten and gooey as it fades, and you’re not sure what just happened, but it felt good.

“You squirted.” Bucky’s voice is low as he rises back up, and he has to be reading your mind. “Shit, I fucking knew it- You’re always so wet, and- That was beautiful, babygirl, tasted to fucking good, wait-“

His lips crash right over yours, and you moan a little stupidly as you taste yourself on his tongue. You’re already limp on the bed, and it feels like heaven, but Bucky notices and draws away.

“You sure you want more?” His question is genuine. And if you tell him to stop there, he will.

But you can see your release, glinting on his dark stubble.

You’re this far gone anyway.

“More.” You whisper, and Bucky’s eyes flash. “Please, Bucky. Need more. I can take it, please-“

It’s a good thing he kisses you when he does. You were embarrassingly close to crying.

It’s another long, slow, fucking passionate kiss. You’re pretty sure this night is a dream. You don’t want to wake up.

“Still got you, babygirl.” He murmurs against your lips. “Gonna take good care of you. You still want it, uh, rough?”

You nod, your head already clear of all thoughts but Bucky, and he lets out a long breath, pressing one last kiss to the space between your eyes as he draws back up.

You don’t know why, but you thought he’d flip you over. Maybe spank you a little before spreading your ass cheeks open and fucking you like an animal from behind.

He doesn’t move from about you. Bucky strokes himself a few times—his own clothing long joined yours in rags on the floor—lining up at your entrance with a deep breath.

You’re getting one last chance to push him away.

You don’t want it.

And when he sees that, something in Bucky seems to snap. You ask for rough. He promised it.

Rough is what you get.

Bucky slams into you with one movement, not bothering to give you time to adjust before he’s fucking you at a brutal pace, his cock driving deep enough to hit your cervix and press right against your g-spot, setting you on fucking fire. He’s holding himself over you with the metal arm, his gaze locked on yours as he watches himself cleave you open, and you have to close your eyes, or you’ll lose your mind. There’s something too deep in his gaze, and it’s going to drive you insane. Being filled up and fucked until you’re drooling, all while Bucky groan pure filth above you, is more than enough.

“Taking my cock so fucking well, you were made for me, doll, made to be fucked so good- Look at me.” Bucky growls, grabbing your jaw, and there’s no more hiding. Bucky’s eyes are dark and hungry on yours, and you can feel him everywhere as he splits you open. “Open.”

It takes one squeeze of your jaw for you to understand, but then you’re obeying without thought.

“Let me hear you.” Bucky groans, his dick slamming right into that deep part of you. “C’mon, make all your pretty fuckin’ sounds for me babydoll-“

You let out a high, loud whine, and Bucky grins, the bed squeaking as his pace picks up.

“Good girl.”

You were already sensitive from his mouth and fingers. And that’s enough. You fly back over the edge with a weak sound, your pussy squeezing and fluttering around Bucky’s cock, and somewhere far in the distance you can hear him roar your name as he slams home.

It sends another, smaller aftershock orgasm through you again. It’s going to hurt to sit tomorrow.

Good.

Bucky has the same habit when he cums in your pussy that he does with your mouth. Pulling just far enough out that he’s still pumping you full of him, all while allowing the rest of it to dribble down your thighs and onto your ass. The only difference is that with this, he’ll roll his cock right back into you, letting out a long groan as his brow drops to your shoulder.

You don’t know how long you both lay there. Bucky’s cock still filling you up, everything about him everywhere around you, your head lost in a daze of Bucky. So fucking good, and warm, and—in this stolen moment—yours.

Bucky takes a long, ragged breath, and slowly pulls out, leaving you a little aching and empty.

“Stay here, baby.” He mutters, and you hum. You’ll have to go soon.

For now, you’re indulging yourself.

Bucky’s cleaning up after himself, just like he always does. A warm, wet washcloth between your legs, and a kiss to your inner thigh that’s far too gentle. A little water and chocolate that he sits you up to eat, holding it out and glaring until you take it.

You sigh. “Bucky-“

“You need it.” He grunts. “You know you need it.”

He wasn’t wrong. You’re still a little lightheaded, and he’s left bruises on your hips that you love, and you know Bucky hates. He thinks they’re hurting you. It doesn’t matter that you asked him for it, he’s still going to hate them.

He doesn’t know you fucking cry, like some pathetic, lovesick idiot, whenever they fade. To you, they’re proof he touched you.

But you still take the water and food. Bucky wants you to, and you’ll do anything for him.

You’ll even participate in the dance where he crawls back into bed, pulls you into his body with his arms around your stomach, and presses a kiss to your shoulder. The game you both play where you pretend this is really the last time, and that you’re not going to be gone the moment Bucky’s asleep. It’s an odd game. He’s holding you because he’s pretending he’ll care if you go. You’re letting him because you want him to make you stay. You leave because you have to, if you want to survive. Bucky doesn’t stop you, because right now—if you ask either of you—that was the last time.

It won’t be. You always say it is, and you both know you’re far from the last time, but you also know that one day, there will be a last time. And it will break you, and Bucky won’t clean you up, and then you’ll just have to… Keep going.

And this is the worst part.

Bucky’s breathing is even behind you, and his body is relaxed. He’s done his part, and fallen asleep. Now you have to do yours, and leave. This was the last time—and even as you think it, you know it’s not the truth, but you have to pretend it is—and now you have to leave.

You start by trying to squirm away from him, but Bucky’s muscles flex, and suddenly you’re pinned tighter to his chest. Then you try to roll, and his legs tangle into yours. Prying arms away just makes him drag you closer. Trying to scramble quickly ends with him half on top of you.

This isn’t how the dance is supposed to go.

You’re supposed to just leave. Without a fight, or resistance. Bucky’s supposed to stay asleep as you gather your clothing and slip out the door. He’s supposed to bunch all the blankets in his arm to replace where you’d been, and breathe out a little sigh of your name that makes you cry in the shower a few hours later.

He’s not supposed to be looking at you, when you roll over in his arms.

“What are you doing?” You whisper.

“Tried to fuck you good enough you couldn’t walk away.” He mutters, watching you so fucking carefully. Like he’s afraid you’ll turn into nothing but air if he says the wrong thing. “Guess I shoulda known better.”

“Bucky-“

“You never stay.” He scans over your face, something painful in his eyes you don’t want to stare at for too long, or you’ll start crying. “Nothin’ I do is ever enough to make you stop leaving.”

“I leave because you never ask me to stay.” You whisper, and Bucky sighs.

“I never ask you to stay cause I think you want to leave.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You’re staring at each other, and being the first one to move—away or deeper into Bucky—is the most terrifying thought in the world. You could leave, and this will be the last time. And you’ll lose him. You’ll stay, and he’ll want you now but not later, and you’ll lose him. You’re going to lose him, because there’s no world where something this good just happens, and you want to stay but the most important thing about this has been never losing Bucky-

“If I ask you to stay,” Bucky mutters, tracing metal fingers carefully over your cheekbone. “What would you say? And before you answer,” he adds in a rushed tone. “I want to tell you something.”

You frown at him, your confusion obviously written all over your face, and Bucky sighs.

“I’m not telling you because I’m tryin’ to make you stay. If you wanna go, you’re free. Won’t drag you back, no matter how much I want to.”

“Bucky,” you whisper, and you’re lying down, but you’re still a little dizzy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

“I love you.” His words are soft, but firm. Certain. And the world might have stopped moving. “I don’t know a lot, you know I don’t, but I know I love you. I’d do anythin’ for you, and that includes letting you go. If that’s what you want.”

“Bu-“

“Wait,” he shakes his head, holding your gaze. “I do want you to stay. If that’s what you’ve been waiting for, if that’s all I’ve had to do, then I love you,” he says your name, and the world must have stopped. This can only have happened because the world stopped, and everything dies, and now you’re in heaven.

But Bucky’s warm and strong around you. And he feels real. Looks real. Tastes real, still lingering on your tongue.

You swallow. You have to speak slowly, or this might all slip through your fingers. “Are asking me to stay?”

“Think so.” He gives you a small, slightly nervous grin. “And let me love you. Be my girl. You know, if you’ll have me-“

“Of course I’ll have you.” The words fall out of you like you’re a waterfall, spilling into the river, but that’s just how this is. There’s gravity, so of course the water goes down. You love Bucky, so there’s no world where you don’t have him.

Bucky raises his brows. “Of course?”

You nod, trying to ride the wave of frantic confidence, not allowing yourself to look anywhere but Bucky. “Yeah. I- I love you too.”

It’s good to say. You’ve spent so long choking on it, and now it’s free, and you can breathe so easily. You’d forgotten what it was like, to not be strangling yourself with your own secret. It’s like having a fruit after years of only eating ash.

But Bucky’s just staring at you with wide, deep, blue eyes, his lips parted and fingers still so carefully on your cheek.

He looks a little like an angel.

“You sure?” His voice is hoarse, but there’s something soft under it, and it’s the same thing you can feel in your heart.

Fear. Of losing something you’ve barely even had.

But you want it. And Bucky wants you.

So there’s nowhere else to go. All you have to do is stay here.

“Yeah,” you give him a small smile, and his grin splits his face. “I’m sure.”

You’ll talk later. For now Bucky just pulls you further into his body, and kisses the top of your head. In a way, that was the last time. And the first.

Because you stay.

All through the night, and a long, long, long while after, you stay.

End Note: how many times do I have to write something like this before it happens to me?

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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livingmybestfakelife · 3 days ago

Text

Concrete Rose

After recovering from camera flashes burning your eyes and the pack of people screaming your ears off. You had yourself a well needed glass of champagne that was offered to you by one of the waiters. Your manager Jerry, the slime ball that he is, had guided you through the private room of the Winifred Hotel to greet the other guests. You all had just gotten back from the Los Angeles premiere of your new picture, and now you’re at the after party that you honestly didn’t want to be attending. But it would be in bad taste to not be here when the studio had paid big bucks to make it happen. Oh well, next month your contract will expire and hopefully with your record of bringing in box office success, they’ll let you negotiate fewer movie deals.

But that was just wishful thinking. These people were greedy and wanted every dime out of their stars at all costs. Which is why when you begin to show signs of not being able to handle the long film hours, they instructed Jerry to put you on some Benzedrine, which you quickly became addicted to, so to mellow you out and make sure you slept you were also put on Veronal. Your body began to get even more sick from being on it, but you also felt drained from being off of it. You didn’t know what to do or who to turn to. Hollywood isn’t the most sympathetic place, especially not to an actor. So you swallowed down your feelings and decided that the show must go on.

After being talked to death by all of the sycophants and hanger ons. You walked towards your table, but before you could sit down you heard a familiar voice fill the room.

“There’s my girl!”

You turn around to see Stack in one of his favorite suits and hat. His huge and charismatic smile stays on his face as he walks towards you and engulfs you into a warm tight hug. His cologne is sure to stick to your dress which you don’t mind, you missed the comfort of him being in your presence. He and Smoke were a constant cloud hanging over you your entire life. In both a good and bad way. Good in a way that you had protection, guidance and support when your folks were working or you were out and about outside of their watchful eyes. And bad whenever you wanted independence, to think for yourself and make your own decisions. No one ever asked them to be what they were to you, they didn’t have to, it’s what they assigned themselves to do.

Their mother and yours had a girlhood bond that never died, even when the twins’s mother’s passed away. Your mama kept her memory alive. It was so strong that the adoration they shared with one another was the same type their children inherited with each other. They had gotten pregnant within the same year, the twins being born seven months earlier than you. You’d think it was seven years earlier with how overprotective they were, as if you were a baby who need the big kids to watch over you like a hawk. People who didn’t know y’all would’ve thought you were siblings with how close you were, but no, they were just a pair of misfits who didn’t play about you.

“Stack? Whatcha doing here? I thought you were still in Chicago”

“Yes well we’re on vacation….why aren’t you happy to see us?”

“Of course I am just wasn’t expecting you”

Smoke stepped up from behind Stack and hugged you as well. Though his was less suffocating. His eyes lingered around your face and the rest of your body as if he was checking for any abnormalities. He was satisfied that you were physically in one piece, but something still bothered his spirit, he could see it in your eyes that you weren’t in any emotional peace. It was one of the things that you hated about him, that he was so observant and could read you so well. Sure, Stack would notice some things, he wasn’t an idiot, but you and Smoke held a different type of bond that Stack couldn’t get from you. And he preferred it that way, he was always the one who reminded you to come to him whenever something was wrong, that he’d handle it if it was something very serious. He felt some guilt that he felt like he was hiding things from Stack, but once you two began talking and tuned out the world, he forgot all about how his little brother would feel.

“Hey Stack, why don’t you go get yourself something to eat”

Stack sucked his teeth, he didn’t like how he was being pushed away.

“Man we just started talking, what’s the rush?”

“Just for a minute, you’ll get your chance”

“Yeah whatever, hey don’t go too far, I’ll be right back”

Once he was out of the way, Smoke lifted his arm so that you can snake yours around his and you two walked to your table. He pulled your seat out and you gracefully sat down like you were taught to do in the etiquette classes that the studio had you attend early into your career. He pushed your chair in and sat next to you. You waited for him to bombard you with the questions you were expecting. He picked at the table cloth that was draped over the round table, he didn’t care for this environment, he despised it just as much as you did. It was too stiff for his liking, he knew that he and his brother were being judged the second they walked through the hotel doors, unfortunately for everyone else they weren’t intimidated by the stares and whispers, they weren’t there to impress anyone, their only mission tonight was to check on their friend and to find out if the information they heard through the grapevine was true.

“Jerry been doing right by you?”

You nod and took a sip of your champagne, he knew that by you avoiding his eyes you were lying, it’s like you forgotten that he knew you like the back of his hand.

“He been drugging you?”

You cough from your drink going down the wrong pipe, you never got used to him not mincing his words, he got straight to the point every time, refusing to sugar coat things, it was a waste of time.

“Where the hell did you hear that from?”

“It’s true ain’t it?”

You sigh and place your drink down.

“If you mean making sure I take my medicine as scheduled then yes”

“That ain’t no medicine you should be taking and you know it, ain’t even prescribed by a respectable doctor”

“Smoke please, you wouldn’t understand”

“I understand that you’re being used as a circus animal, hopped up on bullshit you don’t need!”

“Keep your voice down”

“I don’t give a shit if these muthafuckas hear me! Let em!”

“Elijah please!”

He silences himself from his rant when you call him by his real name. He knew you were serious when you called him and Stack by the names their mama’s gave them, the look in your eyes hurt him, he didn’t enjoy when you looked like you were disgusted by him, you were supposed to be happy to see him, to feel safe and wanted, now it’s like you didn’t even want to know he existed, it broke his heart.

“Look I….I just didn’t like what I heard, that’s all, okay….hey look here”

He gently grabbed your chin and moved your head back to look at him. Only you could humble him like this, knock him from his high horse and shut him up. It wasn’t his intention to upset you or make you feel ashamed from your problem, Lord knows he was far from perfect himself and had his own ways of self medicating. But he wanted more than that for you, you were still sweet Little YN, the one Stack would hate being left out of playing with when y’all were youngin’s. He would do anything in his power to make sure you kept whatever innocence you had left in you.

“It’s just a little pick me up, it’s nothing, I can quit anytime I want”

He took you by the arm and placed you on his lap, when you cuddled up in his arms he saw the tears beginning to spill from your gorgeous eyes, the ones you got from your dear mother. He reached up and wiped them away and kissed your temple.

“We’re leaving okay. We’re gonna get you out of here”

“Wait, no we can’t I have to stay, Mr. Burnell-“

“Fuck Burnell, I’ll deal with him later, him and Jerry are gonna pay”

It was useless to argue with him anymore about this. The twins already heard the dirt, even while all the way in Chicago, the juicy details of what went down in Hollywood was nationwide, if not universal. And one of the eyes and ears they had working in the studio informed them that while things were fine the first few years of you being here, things soon turned how they typically did for pretty young starlets like yourself. You were overworked and overwhelmed and occasionally propositioned for inappropriate favors. The latter you managed to avoid actually having to be forced to go through with by this informant of theirs being one of the higher ups who had enough power to step in and prevent it from going any further than that. The letters, phone calls and occasional visits from Smoke and Stack wasn’t enough to shield you from the wolves that stalked around you every single day. It was time to come in and take matters into their own hands. They never wanted you in this industry in the first place, trying hard to convince you to work for them as their secretary in their “office” while in Chicago, but you wanted to live out your dream in the entertainment industry, so they finally gave in, a decision they’d regret for the rest of their lives.

You nodded and he helped you stand up and held the small of your back while guiding you out of the party. You keeping a kind face and excused yourself from the party, claiming exhaustion, which wasn’t too far from the truth. He kept you close to his side while you two made your trip to the elevator and while it took you to your room to the sixth floor. He unlocked the door with the key you gave him, but then he suddenly stopped you from walking any further. He felt as though something wasn’t right, his former war instincts kicking in when he smelled gun powder in the air. He told you to stay in the hallway while he pulled out his own piece and rushed inside, closing the door behind him. You were confused, you told yourself he was being paranoid, you weren’t close enough to the door to smell anything and you were too into your own head to feel the danger in the atmosphere, so you waited, and let Smoke have his little moment of overprotectiveness.

———————————————————————————

Smoke has his gun trained in front of him as he walked down the hallway that was in the entrance of the door. Once he turned the corner, what he saw in front of him wasn’t something he was expecting, at least not yet.

Laid out in a pool of his own blood was Jerry, the tall, lanky man was now even more paler than he naturally was. He was as dead as a dog, that much was obvious. He walked closer to the corpse and looked around to see who else could’ve been here, this wasn’t self inflicted, someone had took him out.

“Ay! Whoever is here come on out now!”

Soon some heavy footsteps walked out of the bathroom to his right. He spun in the direction and kept his gun pointed, out walked Stack with his sleeves rolled up and wiping his now bruised hands with one of the bath towels. Smoke put his gun back in his holster and stepped towards him.

“Stack what the fuck did you do?”

“I took out the trash”

“Dammit Stack! Why the fuck did you do that huh?! Ain’t no telling who could’ve heard them shots going off”

“Relax, I timed it with the fireworks”

“Man what the fuck?! Fuck! Fuck! Stack!”

“Ay man, calm your ass down, he’s out of the picture like we agreed to remember? Quit acting like you didn’t want his ass dead too”

“Of course I did but-“

“But what? Huh? He’s gone like we wanted. Riiight?”

“Stack you killed him in a public building”

“You acting like I wouldn’t know how to clean up after myself”

“St-“

“Or that you weren’t planning on doing it yourself”

He paused at his brother’s words. What he said and the way he looked him showed him that Stack knew something that he thought he kept well to himself and one of the mafiosos that he planned this out with.

“What? You thought I wouldn’t find out? Come on my nigga surely you don’t think I’m that stupid, that I play so much that I wouldn’t pay attention to your moves, that I wouldn’t know that those errands you had me do was a distraction to make sure I was out of the room while you and Ignatius planned out how to drop Jerry off of the face of the Earth? You think I’m stupid?”

He shook his head but Stack wouldn’t let him insult him anymore with whatever lie he was about to cook up. He had enough of the secrets and being pushed aside.

“You’ve been doing this shit to me ever since we were kids Smoke. You stuck me with the job to be the comedian that would keep her laughing, distract her from whatever bullshit life had thrown at us. All while you snuck off with her and let her tell you her deepest darkest secrets, let you kiss her, hold her….be her first time”

Smoke’s face gave himself away. Once again another secret that he thought was kept between you both, was one that Stack had known about all along.

“Yeah, didn’t think I knew about that shit huh? Muthafucka I saw the tail end of it, it was obvious when you were buttoning up the back of her dress that you had just got done making her a woman”

He chuckled bitterly, shaking his head.

“Stack, look, what YN and me have ain’t got nothing to do with you alright, it wasn’t on purpose and it wasn’t to hurt you”

“Nigga shut up, I don’t wanna hear nothing else from you tonight. Just call up Ignatius to help me with this”

Smoke gave up trying to reason with him, nothing he could say could mend the pain he caused him, even though it wasn’t on purpose, you and Smoke really did have more chemistry with one another when came to matters of the heart. Stack was your heart but Smoke was your soul.

Before he could attend to his request, the door opened and closed and soon you walked around the corner and your mouth trembled looking at Jerry’s dead body. You looked at the twins who cursed themselves that you had to see this. Though you were no stranger to violence, having grown up in neighborhood that was its own version of the Wild West, you never actually saw a dead body in person outside of a funeral, it was surreal to you.

“Baby doll, I had to do it, he was gonna kill me first”

Stack had managed to convince you that Jerry had gotten upset at them coming back to Los Angeles after hearing how he was contributing to your excessive drug use. That when Jerry caught him packing your bags, he came in cussing up a storm and demanded he leave. And when he refused, Jerry had came at him with a knife and that’s when he shot him. The crime scene looked convincing enough, the knife wasn’t too far away from Jerry’s corpse and your bags were halfway packed. You had no reason to believe he was lying, and it’s not like Jerry wouldn’t have eventually been killed by someone else anyway, having more enemies besides the infamous Smoke Stack Twins. You nodded and walked over to Stack and hugged him, he once again held you tight and kissed your bare shoulder, all while Smoke watched on. Stack had grown tired of his big brother being the one who took on majority of the credit of protecting you, being the one you took more seriously when it came to your well being, tonight he held the title of your hero.

“Hey listen to me okay, I want you to go back downstairs and get yourself something to eat, if anyone asks, say you wanted to put something on your stomach before going to bed, once I come back down to get you all of this will be cleaned up and we’ll go over our cover story alright?”

You nod and kiss his cheek. Smoke watches as you rush out of the room before turning back around. He couldn’t think of anything to say to him right now, his nerves still bad about everything, all he could do was nod and go to the phone and had the operator connect him to Ignatius’s house.

“Hey, you’re late for the card game, you coming or what?”

“Nah I’m coming, be there soon”

They both hang up and an awkward silence clouds the room.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Would you have taken me seriously? Or just think I’d treat her like the other women who’d entertain me around town?”

“YN ain’t that kind of girl, Stack”

“You think I don’t know that? I would’ve never played with her!”

“I know that”

“Then how come you never backed off? You know me well enough to know I felt”

“Because I didn’t want her to look at any other man the way she looks at me”

“Not even me?”

He looks away. That was all the answer he needed. After that night things would go back to normal, the three of you would leave Los Angeles after Smoke had bought you out of your contract. It was back to Chicago for all of you, the twins would continue with their business with Al Capone and you would become the secretary they wanted you to be. But the tension between the brothers would continue to hang in the air, you would remain oblivious to it, but the twins would always be reminded of it every time they looked at one another.

tags:

@rolemodelshit

@uzumaki-rebellion

@childishgambinaax

#sinners #sinners imagine #elijah moore #elijah moore imagine #elias moore #elias moore imagine

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do-androids-dream-ao3acc · 7 hours ago

Text

“You look fine in that suit.” Tommy pauses briefly, then he adds, a little more subdued, “I’m sorry. That’s inappropriate today.”

“You’re not even looking at me,” Buck says, confused. That much is true: Tommy, standing on the station’s rooftop terrace with his arms crossed, doesn’t turn around. He looks like a man enjoying the sun and the view, but Buck knows that’s not true. Without saying a word, he takes a few steps to stand next to Tommy. The view is spectacular, but they’re standing a little too close to the edge for his taste. Perhaps that's ambiguous.

“Noticed you earlier.”

“We’re all wearing the same uniform,” Buck remarks, and Tommy just shrugs.

Buck realizes that it was a small, very gentle and spontaneous confession, and he wishes he could tell Tommy that he understands, because he felt the same way. He wishes he could tell him he noticed Tommy, who, even though he will be one of the pallbearers, quietly slipped in through the door and kept himself in the background. He hasn't exchanged words with the others, not even with Chimney, and he hasn't looked at Buck, just like he’s not looking at him now. But Buck has seen him, and he wishes he could tell Tommy about that little sting in his heart, back then. Yet his throat is tight—not because he thinks it would be inappropriate to say anything, but because the reason they are here is only minutes away. The atmosphere downstairs is so devastating that Buck desperately needs a break.

“How did you know I was here?” Tommy asks.

“Well, if you're running away, where else would you go but up?”

Maybe that came out a little too harsh, because now Tommy turns his head, surprise and a little hurt in his gaze.

“I-I mean...” Buck struggles to find the right words. Happens a lot lately, ever since Bobby’s death. “I get it. Nobody wants to be here today.”

“A lot of people want to pay their last respects to the captain, Evan.”

“Yeah, but that makes it so final. Tommy… I'll never see him again. None of us want to be here today. Chimney is tearing himself apart because he blames himself. And to be honest, Athena was pretty mean to him. I know it's just grief, but she was also close to not even showing up for the funeral because she said she had to solve a case. Can you imagine that? At Bobby's funeral?”

He pauses briefly, sniffs, and then continues in a staccato, as if all these words have to come out right now.

“I would have preferred to stay at home either, honestly, but Eddie and his constant nagging about the changes I made in his house drove me out. Well, him and Ravi, who’s way too serious. He shouldn’t be so serious. Everyone is so sad, Tommy. Hen is crying all the time, and I wish I could too.”

Tommy's smile is gentle and sad. “Hold on a little longer,” he says softly. “Just… try. For Bobby, okay? I don’t think I can stand to see you cry again…” He trailed off, looking in the distance.

“W-what do you mean?” Buck asks with a frown.

“The military had the lab’s surveillance cameras on monitor. You didn’t know?”

“No. Wait. You saw Bobby die? That’s horrible, Tommy.”

Tommy looked ready to shrug it off, but this time, Buck wouldn’t have it. He's reaching out, because it's the right thing to do; he's pulling Tommy into a hug. They stand like this for a while, heartbeat to heartbeat; without a word, not moving. Grief unites, someone had once said to Buck, and now he understands what that means. Finally, Tommy gently withdraws.

“Thanks,“ his voice is merely a breath.

“We should talk. Later,” Buck urgently returns. Tommy raises a brow, “Do you really think so?”

“Of course I do,” Buck insists. “It's long overdue. We're really bad at it, but that’s no excuse.”

Tommy smiles indulgently, like he always does around Buck. “True. I just don't think this is the right place or time.”

“Oh,” says Buck. “You're probably right. Well. W-what are you doing on Saturday?”

#ficlet #BuckTommy #BuckTommy fanfic #evan buckley #tommy kinard #911 8x16 #promo stills #911 spoilers #my fics #tevan #kinley

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tweetybaird · 3 days ago

Text

Daddy’s Girl

in which carl finds a traumatized girl and works to heal her, but ends up confusing the poor thing in the process

tw: seatbelts everyone!, very angsty, heavy talk of sexual assault, daddy issues, traumatized!reader, reader calls carl dad- carl likes it, mention of a boner at the end, THERE IS NO SMUT IN THIS, idk i dreamed about this last night lol

“i wish you were my dad”

it was on a foggy afternoon when rick had asked carl to go on a quick run, just to see if he could find any more diapers for judith as she was quickly growing out of hers. instead he had found you in a cabin, tucked so deep into the woods he almost thought he was imagining things when he saw it. but it was real, and so were you. the beautiful girl he could’ve sworn was an angel. he told you so himself, and it quickly became your nickname. my angel, sweet angel, hey angel, c’mere little angel. he knew you weren’t like other kids your age, in the sense that, you truthfully had been traumatized.

the first night you stayed with carl he felt sick to his stomach, and the feeling never truly left till the next morning. you’d asked him, snuggled close in bed that night, if you’d have to ‘lay with his father.’ carl was scared to find out what that meant, but asked anyways. “well back at home, me and my sisters had to prove our to love to our father by being intimate with him before we started dating. i never got the chance to date after laying with my father, so do i have to lay with rick now?” carl swore he was gonna puke.

it took time, months even, for him to help you understand that everything you’d been taught was not love, but abuse. you were in denial most of the time, but he was patient, and you eventually came to terms with the fact that your ‘normal’ was not everyone else’s normal. carl taught you what it meant to be held, to be cared for, to have an honest relationship with someone without any intimacy involved. then, when the time came, he taught you that intimacy didn’t have to be painful, or something you should dread.

the idea of him becoming something more than a best friend to you had never crossed his mind. sure you two did things that couples normally would, like kissing, sharing a bed, he took your virginity for crying out loud. but he knew what you’d been taught growing up and he wanted nothing less than to scare you by pushing commitment onto you. so he’d never thought to want more with you. that is, not until now.

it was a friday night, and friday nights were always movie night. this week it was carl’s turn to pick the movie, and of course he picked a horror movie. you didn’t mind so much, in fact you loved horror movies. but this one was so realistic you could’ve sworn it was truly happening. you’d been curled up in carls lap from the moment the movie started; it was coming to an end now, and exhaustion was creeping in. you sighed, pressing your face against carls neck as your eyes started to drift shut.

“see?” carl whispered, tucking a blanket around the both of you. “i told you i’d keep you safe. ‘s just a movie.” you hummed in agreement, cuddling close and mumbled some nonsense about how tired you were. carl just chuckled, carding his fingers through your hair as he started swaying slightly side to side, rocking you to sleep.

i could get used to this, carl thought. maybe she could start staying in my room every night. and i could wake her up with breakfast every morning. and maybe on those mornings where it takes her longer to wake up i could brush her hair for her. and when she gets sleepy after movie nights on the couch i could carry her up to bed like i am now, all curled up in my arms like the angel she is. and maybe-

“wish you w’re m’ real dad s’mtimes”

and i could be like her dad. and-

wait.

she… oh.

that’s new.

carl froze halfway up the staircase, arms tightening around you. the angel in his arms stirred, the sudden stop pulling you out of your half asleep state. you hummed, a quiet thing, wondering what cause all the commotion. carl took a deep breath and continued up the stairs, walking the familiar path to his bedroom before tucking you in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before leaving the room.

carls step were hurried but not loud as he walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and falling forward, arms gripping the sink. that was never his plan. this wasn’t supposed to happen. all carl wanted was for you to understand what love felt like, what it meant to have a friend who wanted nothing from you, just to be there. it was during this thought process that carl realized his mistake.

he’d been correcting everything your father did to you.

my dad always made me wear a tight bun. carl learned how to do loose braids and ponytails, even asking maggie to teach him how to curl your hair. my father never let me eat sweets. carl brought you a cookie every night before bed. my dad told me that the only way to show someone you love them is by being intimate. carl taught you that you could have a relationship with someone without ever having sex.

he only ever did things right according to what your dad did wrong.

carl thought back to that moment on the stairs. the way that you’d slumped in his arms, trusting him to hold your weight. how your small fingers had gripped his loose shirt. the way a small puff of air left your lips before you spoke. the muffled words, “wish you w’re m’ real dad s’mtimes.” carl took several deep breaths to compose himself, sitting up straight and bracing himself to walk back in the room.

carl paused as his eyes noticed something in the mirror, his hand hovering over the door knob. he was hard. carl was aroused from you calling him dad.

…

fuck.

authors note: i’m back! did ya miss me🤭 part 2?

#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fic #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes angst #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x oc #carl grimes smut #twd carl #traumatized!reader #soft dom carl

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cupcakedejour · 2 days ago

Text

Let Them Talk.

After Sawyer & Ridoc point out some interesting things about your friendship, it leads to a very important realization.

Semi fluff/angst.

No proofreading, sorry for the typos.

Garrick sat another drink down in front of you, your cheeks already heated from the first drink. Xaden had flown back to Aretia on leave so Sgayel and Tairn could be together and somehow Garrick managed to have leave at the same time. Ridoc sat to your left and Garrick to the right. You knew a free weekend was rare for cadets but Garrick being here was even rarer. You sipped the purple drink he’d placed in front of you.

“Thank you.” You smiled.

He grinned back, winking at you. “How are things going?”

“Uh…not bad, I guess.” You shrugged. “I survived the last fight so I can’t complain.”

“I’m glad you did. I would hate to fly all the way back just to be told you’d been killed in battle.” Garrick shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, “And deny yourself the attention from every girl who wants to comfort a mourning rider? I doubt that.”

“I wouldn’t allow myself that kind of emotional support after suffering such a loss.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” Ridoc piped up beside you.

Garrick leaned forward to glare at him, “When it comes to this particular rider, I wouldn’t.”

“After the show he put on last year when she got stabbed, I think I believe him.” Sawyer shrugged.

“He was quite dramatic about that.” Ridoc agreed.

“There were real tears.” Sawyer smirked.

“It’s almost like…there was something more there.”

You shifted awkwardly to look at Garrick. “Did you really cry?”

“I…I mean, no but…kind of?” Garrick stammered.

“And the way he held her hand the whole time she was in the infirmary.” Ridoc continued. “Seemed pretty more than friends to me.”

You felt your cheeks flushing. It could have been the alcohol, or I could have been this information you’d never considered.

“Oh, what about when Violet saw her sneaking out of this room?”

“Okay, okay, that was not what it looked like.” Garrick groaned.

“It wasn’t. I swear.” You protested.

You’d returned from a delivery with Xaden, Garrick and the others late one night. When you’d dismounted from your dragon, you’d slipped on her scales and slid into a puddle of mud, soaking your leathers. Garrick had let you wear his flight jacket so you wouldn’t freeze and after you’d bathed, you simply went to him room to return it. At 2 AM.

“Or how his hand it’s sitting on your thigh right now?” Ridoc smirked.

You glanced down, never noticing how it had come to be there.

“Or how his hand is on her hip sometimes when he gets protective over her.” Sawyer grinned.

“Oh, how about how she leans in really close when they talk.”

“That one time when we were reading all those books for Violet and she had her head in his lap and he played with her hair.”

“Okay! Stop!” You finally huff. “There’s nothing going on! We aren’t…together or anything. Despite what you think.”

Your cheeks were still hot and you reached for your drink, downing it quickly.

“There is nothing between us other than friendship. Honestly, we’ve known each other since we were kids. We’re just really close.” Garrick agreed.

“I dunno, seems a little…comfy.” Ridoc shrugged.

“Says you, who’s in a different bed every night.” Garrick rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be jealous.” Ridoc winked.

You wished this wasn’t happening after you’d been drinking. Now you were in your own head. All you could think about was how his hand felt on your thigh. How he DID hold your hip when you’d been headed into battle, and how he did play with your hair, on more occasions than the one they’d mentioned. The times they didn’t know about in his room on the many nights you’d spent talking for hours. And if you were being honest…you did care about Garrick as more than a friend. You had since before your parents were executed. The way he held your hand as you squeezed your eyes shut while everyone around you screamed had always been a moment you’d never forget.

Later that night he walked you back to room. You’d shoved your hands into your flight jacket to avoid reaching for his.

“Hey, you’re awfully quiet.” Garrick nudged your elbow.

You shrugged, “Just thinking.”

“How many nights have we spent lying in bed thinking out loud?” He smirked.

“A lot.” You admitted.

“Look, if you want me to tell Ridoc and Sawyer to shut up, I will. The last thing I want is you upset over their dumb assumptions.”

You stopped and turned to Garrick, “They’re not dumb assumptions. They’re…right. Everything about us seems like more to everyone on the outside. We are really close and they’re not wrong to think there’s more. If I was on the outside I’d think the same.”

Garrick chewed at his stupid, perfect lip as you stared at him. Finally his gaze met yours.

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. I don’t want you to do anything. I just want you to be my Garrick. The same one you’ve been for years.” You reached out and grasped his hand.

He smiled softly, his thumb brushing over the back of yours gently. “I will always be your Garrick.”

You stepped closer, “Always?”

He nodded, moving even closer. “Always. Painfully honest and very difficult.”

“Sounds about right.” You stood on your toes and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“So you want me to tell them to mind their own business or let them talk?” His lips were dangerously close to yours.

It was so unlike Garrick to care what others thought. Neither of you had ever paid much attention, except when it came to each other.

“They’re already talking.” You shrugged, “Either way they’ll still talk.”

“Tell me what to do.” Garrick almost begged.

“Fuck it.” You said before closing the distance.

Garrick’s lips were on yours and his arms lifting you off your feet. You couldn’t help but groan softly at how perfect he felt holding you against him. It was a moment just for you and him. It was warm and fuzzy and perfect. His tongue brushed yours and you shivered, suddenly very aware of how hot it was. Finally Garrick set you back on your feet and you broke the kiss. Your lips were on fire as you stood in a daze.

“You okay?” He asked, hands firmly on your hips.

“Mmhmm.” You nodded.

“Good. Because the entire squad just saw that.” He said looking past you.

You slowly turned to find your friends standing at the end of the hall, returning from the pub. None of them looked surprised in the least, and you didn’t expect them to.

“Cool. So…this is a thing.” Rhiannon pointed between you.

“Sure.” You shrugged.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Ridoc grinned.

“Okay.” Garrick agreed.

He took your hand and continued to your room, following you in and closing the door behind him.

“You staying the night?” You asked softly.

“If that’s what you want.”

“It’s definitely what I want.” You bit your lip.

“Then your wish is my command.” He grinned, flipping off the light.

The end.

#garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis x you #fourth wing #onyx storm #iron flame #garrick tavis #the empyrean #xaden riorson #Xaden torsion x reader #garrick tavis x y/n #garrick x reader #Garrick x you #Garrick tavis ffn #fourth wing fic #fourth wing fanfic

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darkfalcone · 6 hours ago

Text

Now You’re Playing With Fire (It’s Never Gonna Stop)

Pairing: Natalie Scatorccio/Reader

Warnings: Mentions Alcohol, Toxic Nat, Face Slapping, Rough Oral Sex, Daddy Kink, Choking, Spit, Nat is Mean, Mentions of Mistynat, Angst, Gagging, Mentions throwing up but doesn't happen

Summary: You told yourself that you weren’t going to let her in again. Unfortunately for you, you fail to keep her away.

title credit: fool's gold - motionless in white

You were busy organizing your room when your phone rang, causing you to drop what you were doing and rush to answer it. You were wondering if it was your parents again, calling you to make sure you were doing okay.

“Hello?” You answered the phone.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said, and you instantly wanted to hang up the phone. “I’ve missed you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes before responding. “What do you want this time, Nat? I’m not giving you money; I’m not bailing you out of jail; and quite honestly, I’m about to hang up with you.”

“Don’t be like that.” Nat said, but when you said nothing in return, she continued. “Please, don’t hang up, okay? I did miss you; I miss having you in my arms and I miss what we used to be. Can I come over?”

You sighed, “I don’t live at my old place anymore; I moved out. I’ll give you my address; just let me know when you’re ready for it.”

When she told you she was ready, you gave her your address and she told you she would be there in an hour. You hated that you gave in to her so easily again, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss her. The two of you had been friends in high school and you did have feelings for her back then, but when the plane crashed and they were missing, you were heartbroken. However, when she came back, she wasn’t the same Nat that you fell in love with. Granted, you knew she wasn’t going to be, but the night she showed up at your house, she fucked you on your bed. Nat was mean and rough, but you didn’t mind. She climbed out of your window when you fell asleep. You didn’t see her for three months after that—until she showed up at your door drunk, wanting to fuck again. That was the first time Nat stayed over and for a few hours, you saw a glimpse of the old Nat. But that all changed when she asked you for money, telling you she needed it for gas and other things. You gave her money and to your surprise, she left almost instantly. You weren’t sure what she was going to do with the money, nor did you care anymore.

For two years straight, Nat was in and out of your life. Wanting to be with you and then breaking up with you or when she would cheat on you. You finally had enough - calling it quits with her despite her begging for one more chance. That was the last time you heard from her, until now.

You sighed, wishing that you hadn’t given in. You had practiced how you were going to say no to her if she ever reached out again more times than you’d like to admit to. But here you were, waiting for Nat to get here. When you heard someone pull up, you jumped up and rushed to your door. You opened the door just as Nat was about to knock.

“Hey,” Nat said, waiting for you to let her in.

“Hi.” You said, your voice cold.

“So… Are you going to let me in or are you just going to have me stand here like an idiot?” Nat asked.

You rolled your eyes, moving out of the way so she could come in. You closed the door and locked it once she was all the way inside.

“What do you want, Nat?” You asked, wanting to know the real reason why she was reaching out to you.

“I miss you,” Nat stated, sitting down on her couch. “Can’t I just miss you?”

“No, because last time you told me that, you left me to go fuck Misty of all people.” You snapped, sitting on the couch on the other side of the one she was on.

You never had a problem with Misty, even trying your best to befriend her. But when Nat had left you to go see her, you were left heartbroken again.

“Leave Misty out of this.” Nat snapped, leaning back on the couch.

You weren’t sure why you looked down, but you felt your face heat up as you noticed the bulge in her pants. You bit your lip as you brought your attention back to her face, realizing you had been caught.

Nat smirked, “Why fight? We haven’t seen each other in so long; why don’t I show you how much I’ve missed you?”

You sighed at her suggestion, hating that she still had an effect on you. That deep down you still loved her and you hated yourself for that. That no matter what, you would always let Nat back in, no matter what she did to you.

You got up from your seat, slowly making your way to Nat. As soon as you were standing in front of her, you pulled your shorts and underwear off, not wanting to waste any more time. You bent down, unbuckling Nat’s belt before pulling it through the loops.

“Why don’t you get on your knees for me?” Nat suggested, biting her lip.

“Is that what you want, Daddy?” You teased, not moving to do it as you unzipped her pants.

Nat lifted her hips, helping you out as you pulled her pants down. You stopped when they were on her knees - pulling her boxers down next.

“Yeah, it is,” Nat breathed, leaning forward to grab at your shirt. She pulled it off for you, holding back the whimper that was threatening to come out. “You gonna give it to me?”

“We don’t always get what we want.” You snapped, climbing onto the couch. Even though you let Nat back in, it doesn’t mean you were going to give her what she wanted easily. “Now do we, Nat?”

You straddled her lap, bringing your hand down to hold the base of the strapon in place. You squeezed your eyes shut as you slowly took the whole thing, trying your best to adjust to the size.

Nat brought her hand to your neck, squeezing it gently as you started to fuck yourself. She allowed you to go at your own pace, but she moved her hand off your neck. She pulled your bra up and shifted so she could comfortably wrap her arms around you. Nat smirked; having your tits in her face was what she wanted - wasting no time in taking one of your nipples into her mouth.

“Please, Nat, please fuck me.” You begged.

Nat ignored you, wanting to take this moment in as much as she could. When you grew impatient, you tried to fuck yourself but Nat held you in place.

“Please, Daddy, need it.” You begged, growing desperate for anything at this point. Her mouth on your nipple wasn’t enough, despite how hard she was sucking on it.

Nat pulled her mouth off you, humming, “We don’t always get what we want, huh?” Nat teased, “Luckily for you, I want to fuck you.”

Nat continued to hold you in place as she fucked up into you roughly. This was the first time you had been fucked in so long; you knew you weren’t going to last - not with the way Nat was fucking you.

You brought your hand into her hair - pulling it hard so she would let go of you. You fucked yourself, grabbing Nat by the neck once she let you take control again. You squeezed hard, only stopping when Nat brought her hand up and slapped you across the face as hard as she could. Not once, but twice.

Nat pushed you off her. “Get on your fucking knees,” she demanded, not giving you any room to deny her this time.

You did as you were told this time, moving onto your knees as quickly as you could. Nat gave you no time to even get comfortable as she forced the toy into your mouth. She fucked your mouth roughly, each thrust pushing the toy deeper into your mouth. You gagged hard enough, thankful that you didn’t have to pee - knowing that you would have pissed yourself with how hard you were gagging. Nat paused her movements, using her thumbs to wipe your tears away as you held the strapon in your mouth.

Nat picked up where she left off once she knew you were okay, laughing at how hard you were gagging. “You better not throw up on my cock, or I’m never fucking you again. Understood?”

You tried your best to say “Yes, Daddy” with your mouth full. You breathed through your nose, trying your best to relax as best as you could as she pushed you all the way down onto it. Nat held you in place by the back of your head with one hand and with the other, she slapped you.

“I should leave you here, all desperate and needy,” Nat commented, but you knew it was more to herself. “But I won’t, so say ‘thank you.’”

Nat pulled the toy out of your mouth, allowing you to take a few deep breaths before she wanted your response.

“Thank you, Daddy.” You whispered.

Nat slapped you in the face, giving you no time to react before forcing your mouth open. You got the hint - sticking out your tongue and moaning when Nat spit on your tongue.

“Swallow.”

You did as you were told, slowly retracting your tongue as you tried your best to maintain eye contact. Nat smirked, pulling you into a kiss once you swallowed before you pulled away. Nat stared at you for a few seconds; you weren’t able to guess what she was thinking; her facial expression was unreadable. Nat pushed you onto your back on the floor before joining you - she moved between your legs.

“Spread your legs wider.” Nat demanded.

When you hesitated, Nat pushed your legs apart roughly, causing you to cry out. You kept your legs open, even when she took one of her hands away to wrap around the base of the strapon. She leaned in closer, lining the tip of the toy to your entrance before she pushed in, this time not giving you any time to adjust as she fucked you. Nat paused, finally pulling your bra off before she leaned down to suck on your nipple again. You whined as Nat grinded against you, causing you to grow impatient.

“Please, Nat, please just fuck me already.” You whined, hating how desperate you sounded.

Nat pulled away from you and grabbed the back of your knees. She pushed your knees to your chest, fucking you roughly; you cried out.

“You wanted me to fuck you, so fucking take it.” Nat snapped. “Always been such a good fucking whore for me, no matter what.”

You nodded, “Yes—fuck, yesyesyes.”

Nat picked up her pace again and you were already embarrassingly close. Nat could tell; bringing her hand to your throat, she squeezed lightly. This was enough for you to come, but Nat wasn’t finished. She fucked you through your orgasm, laughing at your whimpers. You were overstimulated, but you also didn’t want Nat to stop, not when she hasn’t come.

“Gonna fuck you any time I want and you’ll let me, right?” Nat snapped; her thrusts were growing sloppy - switching between fucking you and grinding against you. “You’re so pathetic.”

Nat came with a silent cry, continuing to grind against you with her strapon still buried inside of you. When she was done, Nat slowly pulled out of you, moving so she was sitting on her ass as you stayed in place, trying your best to collect your strength. Nat got up from the floor, pulling her pants and underwear back up, not bothering to take the strapon off.

She helped you to your feet and cleaned you up while you sat on the couch. When you were dressed and had some energy back, you led her to your bedroom.

“Did you want to stay?” You asked, trying your best not to sound too hopeful.

Nat nodded, a smile on her face. “I am, but I’m tired and I’ve missed having you in my arms.”

The two of you climbed into your bed and when she wrapped her arms around you, you felt happy with her for the first time in a long time. You closed your eyes as you felt Nat hold you tighter.

A few hours later, you woke up and were disappointed when you realized Nat wasn’t in your bed. You learned quickly to not be surprised when it came to her, but it still hurt you.

You looked at your clock, realizing that it was five in the afternoon, so you dragged yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. Going to the bathroom and washing your hands, you noticed that your wallet was a lot thinner than what it was this morning. As soon as your hands were dried, you picked it up and opened it, realizing that Nat had stolen all of your cash.

#natalie scatorccio x reader #my writing #mine

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andromeda-nova-writing · 3 days ago

Text

Forgetting For a Moment

Summary: Moving on can take a minute, where sometimes the only thing that can help is to throw yourself further into work.

Words: 1,686

AN: @milkstore is always giving ideas. Is anyone surprised this is another fic inspired by one of those ideas? This is very much a prequel for the other Wriothesley fics I've written. Beta read by @painom

“Could you do me a favor?” Navia asked after poking her half of the slice of cake with a fork.

“Depends on the day.” Y/N’s half of the cake was untouched. Her tea was sipped once. The lipstick mark that normally would be left on the cup wasn’t there. Navia had considered it a miracle that she got Y/N out of her mother’s house. Since she broke off the engagement, it had been just work and home for her. It was sad to see her this down on herself.

“Next Monday, if you are free.” Her favor was just a ploy to get her out of the house more.

“Can’t. I signed up to assist the Fortress of Meripode. I start that day.”

“You signed up for more work?”

“I bought a wedding dress that I won't wear! I almost bought a house. I spent so much money, excited to build a new life.” Her voice had already started to crack with the fresh wound. “I wish I could have seen everything coming.”

Navia was quick to rub her back. “I know, but you shouldn’t overwork yourself.”

“Work has been the one thing I’ve enjoyed.” Mostly because it kept her from feeling sorry for herself. “I at least feel like I deserve being called smart at work.”

“I wish you would quit blaming what happened on yourself.”

“All the signs were there. I was supposed to be getting married this weekend in that dress I paid so much money for. I didn’t even like that gown. You’re supposed to feel special in your wedding dress.”

“You’ll find someone who makes you feel special no matter what you wear.”

“I don’t want that right now. I just want to make it through the day. I really thought he was the one you know.”

“Don’t think about that guy. He doesn’t deserve the energy it even takes to think his name. Tell me about why you wanted to work at the Fortress.” Navia changed the topic. It would be a while till her mood changed, but the least she could do was make sure her mind focused elsewhere.

The Fortress was imposing. The first few shifts there, she was assisted by a guard who showed her where to go and how to get around. Sigewinne, the Melusine who worked in the Fortress, was a sweetie. It was hard to believe she worked there for as long as she did. But then again, she knew so much that Y/N shouldn’t have been surprised.

It was clear that Sigewinne loved stickers, placing them on anything and anyone. There were even some rumors that the Duke who ran the Fortress was a sticker target as well, which had to be false. Everything else she heard about the man was that he used to be sentenced here as well, and how inmates were scared of him.

A mysterious duke with questionable morals. No need to go out of her way to talk to him. She dealt with men with titles enough. Her mother was right when she said that it’s fine to take money from them when you are hired, but there is no need to be close. Horrible that she had waited so long before fully understanding her mother’s thoughts.

“How was your lunch?” Sigewinne asked, breaking the silence of the infirmary.

“Quiet. No one showed up except for one lady picking up a prescription.” Y/N explained. The lunch she had taken out to eat was barely touched. It has been almost an hour since Sigewinne's return. Perhaps she just wasn’t all that hungry.

“That’s good.” Sigewinne saw Y/N’s lunch sitting on the table in the same position as when she left. “Did you get distracted by something then?”

“I’m just not as hungry as I thought I would be. It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just my mother tends to make a large breakfast and has been packing quite a lot for lunch for me.” She held up a note with a drawing on it. “Even writing about how much she loves me like I’m a little kid again.”

“She sounds nice.”

“She is one of the sweetest people I know.”

Sigewinne could tell how something heavy weighed on Y/N’s mind. It wasn’t her place to pry but there was comfort in knowing that she had a good support system in place. “At least you had time to rest. If you need to take a break to eat, please do so.”

“I will. I managed to drink all of my water, at least.”

“At least someone here understands how important that is.” A complaint framed as a compliment?

“What do you mean?”

“His Grace has a tea addiction. He is currently suffering the effects of too much caffeine at the moment.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Idiot.” Even with her engagement called off, causing emotion to cloud her, she knew to pay attention to her body. “How bad?”

“Resting finally… I hope.”

“He sounds like a handful.” More reason to avoid meeting him as long as possible.

“He was worse as a teen.” The way Sigewinne reminisced looked an awful lot like her own mother thinking of her childhood. Best not to question it. Melusines were old creatures anyway.

“I take it you two are close.”

“Yes. I think he has grown up quite nicely. He could do better about how much tea he consumes, though.”

“If he is suffering the effects of too much caffeine, he probably needs to cut back quite a lot. He should notice before it becomes an issue. He's the warden. Him being out due to an issue he caused like that could easily cause issues in the Fortress.” That probably came off harsh. Oh well. He's still a Duke. Probably spoiled to some degree.

Maybe it was good that they hadn't met yet.

Y/N worked on organizing medical files for some of the new inmates who had come in. Quiet, peaceful, mindless work that she could easily get done while still continuing to pity herself. Loud footsteps against the metal floor entering the infirmary broke up her pity party.

“I’m fine! It’s just a small cut! I can clean this by myself.” A man’s voice argued.

“Nope! Last time, you didn’t even bandage it properly. You were supposed to dress a wound, not wrap your hand for boxing.” Sigewinne argued.

“Ehhhh, it’s the same wrapping style.”

Y/N turned away from the desk, looking at Sigewinne and the mystery man entering the room. “No, it’s not. I would advise you to listen to a medical professional.

Sigewinne nodded yes as she dragged the large man over to one of the beds. “Y/N, you haven’t dealt with many patients as of yet. I think this should be an easy one.” She looked the man directly in the eyes. “As long as he listens. I would hate to have to tell Monsieur Neuvillette that you are refusing medical care. It would be such a bad precedent to set for staff and inmates.”

So the mystery man was high up in the staff to have that type of influence over everyone.

“How many times are you gonna use that threat against me?”

“Until I have to tell him. Sit down already. Y/N, come over here too.” Sigewinne ordered.

Y/N got up from the desk. “You said it was just a cut. Let me go clean up before I can examine it.” It didn’t take long to wash her hands and put on gloves. Sigewinne had already brought over the necessary supplies in that short time.

“Could I have your name so we can add this to your medical record afterwards?” It was a habit that was forming off of advice from Sigewinne.

“Wriothesley.” He was being a good sport about it for Sigewinne.

“Wrytheslee?” She attempted to repeat back. Sigewinne was already laughing like she expected that to happen.

“Not quite. Wriothesley.” He spoke again with a smile tugging at his lips. “I could say it slower.”

“Wrothelsye.” She tried again.

He spoke his name again, slower this time.

“Wirotsheyle. We are saying the same thing.” Frustration already took over.

“Sigewinne can handle that. She knows where my file is. Just call me Your Grace, everyone else down here calls me that anyway.”

“Wait, you’re the Duke? You don’t even look like one.” It was the most lively she had been since coming down to the Fortress for her shifts.

Sigewinne kept laughing.

“I get that a lot. Must be my love of darker colors. I’ve been told there aren’t a lot of people in high society who get piercings.” He went on, avoiding the obvious of the scars that littered his body. “I’ve been told my hair is unruly, but I think I style it nicely.”

Y/N kept a straight face or at least tried to. “Most Dukes try to look the part and would usually start by introducing themselves as a Duke. Not by their extremely difficult-to-pronounce name.” “I’m still getting used to it. Effects of not being brought up in high society. I am a little curious how you would know how a Duke is supposed to act. Sigewinne said you were a pharmacist in the overworld.”

“I still am one. And you don’t need to know how I would know.”

He put his hands up in a surrender. “I won’t ask about it then.” He took an interest with the back of his right hand. There were no wraps on it like his left. “It closed up already. Told you it was nothing.”

Sigewinne shook her head. “This was more about going through the motions anyway. At least the two of you finally had a chance to meet.” She went up to Wriothesley and placed a sticker on his tie. “For being a good sport.”

The pout on his face is what made Y/N finally break into laughter. It was the first laugh she had all month. It had also been one of the few times she was able to forget about her failed engagement, even if it was for a moment.

#wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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jimblejamblewritings · 11 hours ago

Text

Pet Soldier | 4

Summary: Bucky's past catches up to him, unlocking painful memories of his time as the winter soldier. The only thing that could make it worse was having to be on a team with a captured HYDRA soldier he wants to see dead. But her healing power is simply too invaluable to let go.

THIS IS A DARK FIC!

Warnings for the Series: 18+ only. Heavy Angst (eventual hurt comfort). Violence. Mentions and depictions of Non-Con and Dub-Con. Psychological Trauma. Not Canon Compliant. Manipulation. Hydra.

Important Warnings for this Part: Non-Con. Seriously. All the Italics are where it could be held.

Pairing: eventual Stucky x reader, Stucky x hydra!reader, Bucky x reader

Word Count: 8.9k (yeah, sorry, there was no good place to cut this part off so it'll be our oddly long chapter)

Previous Part | Series Masterlist

You didn’t want a UN meeting where you were paraded out to the public for corrections about you and your new place in SHIELD. The Accords Committee felt obligated to honor that. But they did need to make corrections about you and verify the truth. Which meant a small group of the Accords Committee and SHIELD’s board showed up early to Avengers Tower and would hopefully have a public statement by evening.

No one was surprised when you were the last one into the meeting flanked by one super soldier who hadn’t left your side since the terrace incident and a redheaded spy who watched your back even when you thought she wasn’t around. You were introduced to everyone, some familiar and some not.

Everett Ross shook your hand. “I’m, uh, very sorry about how your past few months have been. Please, take a seat.”

He wasn’t sure how to proceed, grateful for Nick going straight to the heart of the meeting. Natasha reassured you multiple times that you didn’t have to be in the room if you didn’t want to. For whatever reason, you couldn't bring yourself to leave even though you didn't exactly want to witness the harsh realities you had already experienced. Instead, you brought your chair closer to the super soldier at your side and held his wrist, squeezing it tightly.

Bucky swallowed thickly at the gesture. It wasn't for your own comfort but his. And the worst part was he couldn't even remember what he needed comforting about. He did the only thing that felt right, putting his hand over yours and echoing the team’s sentiment that they wouldn’t force you to stay in the room and that everyone aside Nick, Steve, and Ross could leave as well if you didn’t want them to see it. While they all preferred to be on reports, technically it was only necessary for Ross as the liaison of the SHIELD division and Accords Committee, Steve as team captain, and Nick as SHIELD’s director to be here.

“I don’t mind,” you said. “HYDRA guards have already seen and shared everything whether I liked it or not. I’m more concerned that you all won’t be comfortable with what you see.”

That was something they all discussed. But whether they were comfortable or not, they had to assess the evidence given to them. And unfortunately, all the evidence was video based. For once, Steve has wished he was given an abundance of paperwork.

He was sure he could stomach reading about what happened to you and Bucky. But he wasn’t sure he’d be able to witness it without breaking down. Everyone nodded, not wanting to delay the inevitable for any longer. Despite not being the leader, Tony naturally took over.

“Alright, FRIDAY, what do you got for us?” he asked.

“All videos sorted and accounted for. Repetition has been saved but cut from this viewing. Focus is solely on moments including Sergeant Barnes and Y/N L/N aside from moments deemed important enough to include even if they aren’t involved.”

“Sounds great. What’s the earliest date we’ve got? Year is fine.”

“1945.”

Everyone but you paused.

“FRIDAY, are you sure?” Tony asked. “Not Buckaroo’s time at HYDRA. When L/N arrives, we don’t really need to crack open Barnes’ old baggage.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark. The dates have been checked and verified multiple times. This is the earliest date with both Ms. L/N and Sergeant Barnes. 1945.”

Even Bucky had to blink back confusion, he could have sworn you weren’t around for more than two or three decades at the most. Nervousness began to build in his stomach and he felt a tightness in his chest. What if the soldier had been hurting you from the very beginning? If so, did that mean you two were never truly in love?

The subject of you having been his wife hadn’t been brought up since the day it was revealed. Bucky wasn’t eager to unpack those memories or feelings, especially when he had a very loving boyfriend that he was head over heels for. But he knew it would have to be talked about eventually. He had been hoping for later rather than sooner.

Now, Bucky had to think about it whether he liked it or not. Because the only thing he was now focused on was if you had ever loved him or did you have the worst case of Stockholm Syndrome imaginable? He didn’t know which answer would have been preferable, less painful.

Ross grabbed the remote and paused it before FRIDAY could even begin playing the first video. He tried to soften his voice as best as possible.

“I have to ask, when were you born exactly?”

“1920.”

Most eyes in the room nearly bugged out of their skulls. At least they confirmed that FRIDAY was right in her information. Unsure of what else to say, Ross simply pressed play on the remote:

Bucky moaned on the hospital bed he was strapped to. The bleeding had stopped but he was very aware that his arm was missing. You were thrown into the room, landing roughly on your hands and knees. Bucky didn’t know Russian but he could tell whatever was being shouted at you before the door slammed shut was Russian or, at least, definitely not German.

You slowly got to your feet, attempting to speak broken Russian to the man on the bed. Bucky cut you off quickly.

“I don’t understand that shit.” He tilted his head when you breathed out in relief.

“You’re a prisoner too?”

“Where the hell am I?”

“A HYDRA base. Somewhere in the Soviet area. I haven’t been able to figure out if we’re in Russia yet.”

Bucky threw his head back in frustration. Captured by HYDRA again. He wished he had just died from the fall instead. You picked up the crude and barely filled manila folder clipped to the end of his bed. All of Bucky’s information that HYDRA had gathered and the biggest reason you had been sent in to heal him despite the fact that he was missing one arm and therefore should have been expendable. He had a version of super soldier serum in him. The only other person you heard of having that was Captain America. You sighed as you set the folder back down and produced the key the soldiers had given you.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me.”

“What do you mean?” Bucky was more than confused how you were a bad thing considering you were currently unlocking his handcuffs.

“Because they only drag me out of my cell to heal someone worth saving.”

Bucky swallowed thickly, not needing you to explain anymore. He wasn’t sure if you were a complete good guy yet but you were at least an ally for now. He waited patiently for you to lay out your equipment. You went through basic check-ups before assessing the real issue. Bucky’s eyes went wide when he saw the faint blue glow coming from your hands. His soreness started to slowly melt away as you pressed your hands to his wounds.

“You’ll have to keep coming back before the next phase of your new training,” you told him. “I’m still learning my powers. My base camp was helping me learn how to get better to help soldiers for the war but I got taken before that. I’m working on it though.”

“Were you given serum too?”

You shook your head. “Born.”

Bucky nodded, going silent for a while before noticing the silver dog tags hitting against your chest every time you moved.

“Are those yours?” Bucky asked.

You nodded.

“From this war or the last?”

“Do I look old enough for them to be from the last war?” you asked with a snort.

“I never like to assume a lady’s age.”

“You’re trouble, Sergeant Barnes.”

Guards came to take him away before either one of you could have more conversation.

✭✭✭✭

Lock clockwork, you were taken to Bucky’s temporary chambers in the hospital after his breakfast. Both of you had concluded that the other was an ally, potentially even a friend in this grim place.

Bucky turned away from looking at his shoulder that was no longer an open sore to staring at the ceiling.

“Wish I would have met you back at camp. Did you ever hear about getting an assignment with the 107th?”

“No, I don’t think so. Although, I hate to admit it but I never really paid attention to assignments. I just showed up where they directed me too.”

“Shame. I’m sure you would have brightened up the days at camp.”

He smirked when you rolled your eyes. It was so easy to pretend that you guys were back on one of the military bases. Without guards breathing down your back, you could almost imagine that you were in one of the medical tents and simply tending to a wounded soldier.

“Sergeant, are you flirting with me?”

“Is there another pretty doctor fixing me up?”

“I’m just a nurse.”

Bucky pretended to ponder that thought for a few seconds. “Well, HYDRA’s training you up, aren’t they? And you have that weird magic that I’m really grateful for right now. I think that makes you qualified enough to be a doctor.”

“You’re too handsome for your own good. I hope you know that.”

He finally sat back with a smile. “So what I’m hearing, doc, is that my flirting does have an effect on you. I was worried that I was losing my touch.”

✭✭✭✭

“Not to be offensive to the lady patching me up but where are you from? You sound kind of like a lady I know, Peggy Carter but you also sound like you belong from Brooklyn with Steve and I. And your tags don’t look like the British ones.”

Your nose scrunched up as you tried to stop from laughing too loud before it attracted the guards. “I don’t know anything about Brooklyn but my family are from the States. They moved here when I was little. Better life and all that. I guess I still sound like my parents somewhat.”

“Did you get that better life? Before HYDRA, I mean.”

You shrugged. “In some ways. In others, the racism is all the same. As for the tags, I lost my original. They gave me new ones while I was sent out to some American camp with a nurse shortage. Don’t tell anyone but I like this version more.”

“My lips are sealed.”

It was quite obvious to everyone watching that you and Bucky had established quite a rapport. The super soldier felt a bit better at the fact that there was a time he knew you before the winter soldier. You weren’t just another one of his victims that happened to live to tell the tale.

✭✭✭✭

Bucky already knew that he was in his final days before they did something else to him. Carefully, he took off his dog tags and slipped into the pocket of the lab coat that HYDRA let you wear.

“Keep mine for me. I know they’re going to take them soon. And I know I’m not getting out of this shit, not this time.”

“But what about your friend you were talking about? Steve?”

“Trust me, darlin’. The way I was taken, no one’s coming. Just keep these safe for me, please.”

✭✭✭✭

Bucky wasn’t the same when he was brought to you. That was already the first change you noticed. You were upgraded from dingy barracks to a solitary cell. You worked next to the other scientists as the resident healer. And the Asset, as they were now calling Bucky, was brought to you rather than the other way around.

He looked more feral than before. More like a machine every time you met him. And every time he left and you were allowed back into your cell, you cried for the man they destroyed. You cried, knowing that you two were stuck at HYDRA for the foreseeable future.

✭✭✭✭

You looked up when the sirens started. Another winter soldier rampage. Part of you thought it was good. Bucky was still sticking it to them somehow. They couldn’t perfectly control him. On the other hand, you hated it because anyone that wasn’t flat out murdered was brought to you for healing. Aside from draining your powers, it gave you horrible nightmares. What you didn’t expect was for the guards to not subdue the rampage in a timely fashion. But it was too late to process that as the soldier busted down the door to the lab.

Both Bucky and Steve noticed the hitch in your breath as you watched the scene unfold. Steve felt awful ever forcing you to leave the quinjet on missions because you jumped and flinched at each gunshot the winter soldier unloaded on the scientists in the video.

The soldier turned his attention to you as the only other living being in the lab. You shook hard as you held your hands up in a surrender fashion. Pleas to spare your life seemed to fall on deaf ears as he stalked towards you. His arm shot out quickly, grabbing you before you even had a chance to run. The wind was knocked out of you as you were pulled back and flush against his chest. Metal fingers crept closer to your throat, wrapping around but not yet crushing.

With an aggressive growl, the soldier ripped his hand away and shoved you against your workbench. You squirmed and panicked as you felt the fabric of your scrubs cleanly tear in two. Even your underwear seemed to offend the soldier as he ripped through them as well, the elastic snapping harshly against your skin. You clamped both hands over your mouth when you felt him prodding and poking at your entrance. You weren’t even sure when he had managed to get his pants down while you were still pinned with one hand.

No one in the conference room was sure of what to say. It was almost like Bucky was trying to be gentle somehow. They expected the same brutal pace from his nightmare-induced rampages in the tower. But what they were watching while still rough was slow. Only the soldier’s flesh hand touched you while the metal one kept opening and closing in a fist. Almost like he was holding back.

✭✭✭✭

The next scene was one FRIDAY deemed important even though you and Bucky weren’t in it.

HYDRA officials gathered in a nice room that didn’t seem to belong to the base. They stared at footage on the screen while some scientist at the front of the room pointed out things. The footage became clearer — the winter soldier’s latest rampage.

“I believe the Asset recognized her ability to heal during his rampage. It is impossible to know what was going through his head but I truly believe he made a connection in his mind and remembered her healing ability, somewhat warping the nature of his rampage.”

“Saving her despite leaving everyone else for dead,” an official answered bluntly.

“Yes. His rampage wasn’t going to stop but the Asset did not want to kill her. We have witnessed the first instance of control during his instability. But that isn’t the only remarkable thing.”

“It isn’t?”

The scientist pulled up the cctv footage. “After his interaction with her. The rampage only continued for a mere two minutes before the soldier returned himself to his chamber without any guidance or threats.”

All of the officials in the meeting room paused. At this point, they had multiple times to learn the Asset’s rampage schedule. So hostile and lasting for long stretches of time that he would have been executed if he wasn’t the only experiment that took well to the serum.

He should have had another ten minutes before they could even start attempting to wrangle him back to his chamber after the first failed corralling. The scientist merely nodded as an answer to whatever question must have been racing through their minds.

“The instability in the Asset seems to stem from a remembrance of his previous life, a longing for that human side. Extensive wiping of his mind doesn’t seem to be a tool that works to eliminate that. We will have to come up with better technology. In the meantime, I would like to propose a temporary solution. Her.”

“The healer?”

“Watch the video again.” The scientist paused at the graphic scene. “Look at her hands.”

They could all see the small glow emitting from them.

“She either calmed his rampage through her abilities or the Asset’s human nature was seeking help and solace and recognized that she had provided a form of that for him in the past.”

Karpov set down his drink with a laugh. “So instead of killing her, he found his solace and took it.”

“Simple biology.”

“And you truly believe it will control his instability?”

“For now. The solution might not last forever but I do believe he can be subdued for now.”

“The problem is if he kills her. We have yet to find another mutant with her power. Her blood and dna give little in progress to create a serum from her. Without her, the Asset is down for weeks instead of days if he is severely injured,” an official said.

Karpov stood, garnering all their attention. “Then offer him other whores first. But if they cannot aid him then she goes in. The Asset is our most valuable weapon. The healer dies then she dies.”

✭✭✭✭

“I’m sorry.” The deep voice startled you.

You looked up to see yourself face to face with the winter soldier. Although, his eyes looked different today. More animated. A touch of clarity. The soldier flexed his metal arm before relaxing it again. He wasn’t with any guards but no sirens were blaring either. Did they let him walk on his own to the lab?

“I hurt you, didn’t I?” he asked, breaking your thoughts.

You wanted to ignore him but the look on his face made you nod. The soldier sucked in a harsh breath. It was silent for what felt like hours, both of you lost in your own thoughts until he came forward and sat down in the patient’s chair. He took a chance and held your knee with his metal hand.

“I didn’t want to.”

The honestly startled and confused you. The soldier turned to look at the door and then the cameras in the corner, wondering how long he’d have before the guards came in and wiped him for this sudden confession. He swallowed thickly.

“I didn’t want to but I think I was going to kill everyone here. I couldn’t stop myself but it was the only thing I could do to not kill you. You’ve always been kind. I remember that now. I think that’s why I didn’t want you dead.”

“Thank you for telling me. I think that makes me feel a bit better, Bucky.”

The soldier sat back with something that almost looked like a smile on his face. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

You gasped when you realized the mistake you made, constantly looking at the door and making the soldier feel on edge. After five minutes, no guards came. Even after you finished healing, no one showed up. The soldier bridged the gap once more, feeling confident.

“Is that my name? I was named Bucky?”

“A nickname.” You didn’t want to tell him more in case HYDRA thought you were pushing it.

“Hmmm. Will you call me that then? Instead of Soldat or Asset.”

You nodded. “Of course, Bucky.”

“I really am sorry for hurting you. I don’t really remember it but I feel that it happened.”

“If you don’t remember it then let’s not worry about it, Buck—” You were interrupted by the crinkling of an intercom.

“Nurse L/N, please escort the Asset back to cryo before the evening ends. You have until an hour after dinner.”

✭✭✭✭

It became a routine for you and Bucky whenever he was let out of cryo. Both of you were suspicious about why HYDRA let you have this time but you didn’t want to question it too much before it was taken away. No guards came in even when you were trash talking their organization. Granted, they mind wiped him and punished you afterwards but even that was less harsh than their normal punishments of the past. You spent most of your time together.

Bucky had a permanent seat next to your work bench. The other scientists learned to bow their heads because the winter soldier wasn’t afraid of growling at them or tensing his metal arm so the plates would crunch against each other with a menacing echo. But you had no reservations. Bucky was entirely soft with you.

He sorted your papers, recovered other people on the base to bring to you when you needed them, and he always brought your meals. And every evening, you were allowed to escort Bucky back to his cryo chamber with no guards around.

In a sort of awe and confusion, the entire conference room watched FRIDAY fast forward at super speed through these clips. The date stamp in the corner of each cctv showed this strange allowance HYDRA gave you and Bucky lasted for a good six months. The footage went back to normal speed.

Bucky looked down when you grabbed his metal hand, slipping your fingers through his, as you led him back to his cryo chamber. He still hated the thing but getting precious moments with you was better than kicking and screaming and being dragged back anyway.

“Walk slower,” he softly commanded. “I just want to savor this, please. They send me out on a mission in four days and then back to cryo for who knows how long.”

“Of course, Bucky.”

You didn’t know if it would get you in trouble later but you didn’t care. You led him the long way through every floor of the facility that you were allowed on before finally returning to the cryo rooms. Bucky protectively wrapped an arm around your shoulder when you two noticed that all of the important officials, including Karpov, were in the rooms.

But none of them summoned any guards. Karpov merely smiled and asked you to continue your standard routine. True to his words, the officials focused solely on the scientists, asking them questions about cryo rooms and what improvements have been made and such.

You were suddenly self-conscious but you tried to continue as usual. There were some things that you had never planned on doing for a man, ever. Bucky knew that. Yet, he was grateful that you bent some of those rules for him even if it was solely out of pity for his circumstances. He sat down while you removed his tactical boots and replaced them with slippers for cryo.

“Thank you,” he said, reaching for your hand again.

“Gear.”

Bucky removed his tactical vest. You raised your eyebrows as he put it to the side instead of handing it to you like usual. He was thinking about something. You just weren’t sure about what. Instead of rushing him, you gave Bucky the time to figure it out. His blue eyes stared down your own.

“I really want to kiss you,” he muttered.

You two were more than aware when all the scientists and guards started leaving at his words. There was no pretense or excuses made. Their Asset made a request that they were willing to grant. This is what they had been waiting for. You and Bucky realized it at the same time. Bucky wrung out his hands.

“I don’t care if they expect something. They kept bringing me women so they must expect something but I don’t want them. I won’t kiss you unless you want it… Please say something.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s the only thing I’m sure about in this place.”

You nodded. “I want it, Bucky.”

He surged forward, taking your face in both hands, and kissing you like there was no tomorrow. Bucky tensed up when the guards returned. Karpov stepped forward.

“Relax, Soldat. Miss L/N, please prepare yourself for cryo.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widened and your breathing got faster.

Bucky rubbed your arms up and down, applying a slight pressure. “It’s alright. Just like sleeping.”

On instinct, he pressed kisses along your shoulder. You tentatively took the cup of pills one of the scientists handed you. It was like you had a choice. Another held up a large tub of what looked like a gel mixed with lotion. You were informed that because you weren’t serum-jacked like Bucky, they had to prep you differently until your body became used to the chamber. No one said anything when Bucky snatched the jar from the woman. He’d be damned if he let one of them touch you.

It was almost sensual how he made sure the lotion covered every inch of your skin. He kissed you one more time before watching you get into the chamber first before he stepped into his own.

✭✭✭✭

Karpov’s log was simple and to the point.

“Sergeant Barnes wakes up from cryo a lot calmer now. We will be keeping Miss L/N in cryo alongside him.”

✭✭✭✭

“They gave you guys a window?” Ross asked in complete shock at the scene of Bucky closing the curtains over what was clearly a real window.

You two had been moved to a shared cell. There was a real bed in the corner, a small couch, and a small bathroom with just a toilet and a sink inside. It wasn’t much but you and Bucky made it look like a real home as far as everyone was concerned. But, like Ross, they looked on in disbelief. It was obvious that HYDRA was going to keep the two of you together once Bucky had made that first move but they were being oddly accommodating.

“Their deadliest soldier they had to keep brainwashing was given a window? That shows the outside!”

Bucky squinted at the large screen, the faintest hint of a memory flashing before him. “I think I wanted it for Y/N?”

His question was answered as FRIDAY flitted through the data to find what he was talking about. Sure enough, there was documentation. Only, you weren’t in the room at the time that FRIDAY didn’t think it necessary to include at first.

The Winter Soldier was more like Bucky in that moment than the team had ever seen. He demanded a windowed cell, not even realizing that no such thing existed in a HYDRA facility. But no matter who talked to him or tried to hurt him, he wouldn’t listen. The soldier shook his head again before grabbing the throat of the nearest guard.

“My girl wants to see the outside. Misses it. She will get her window or she will accompany me on missions. But I am giving her outside. Doll, deserves it.”

The guards in the video and the team watching on the screen all glanced over at their versions of Bucky. Karpov stepped closer to the soldier. His smile was sickly sweet.

“She will get her window… If you return to the machine, Asset.” He held up a hand before the soldier could growl. “We will let you remember her. But she isn’t your doll.”

The soldier did growl at the way Karpov spat the nickname.

“She is barely your girl. A whore, a pet, a toy, perhaps. All appropriate names. Get back to the machine without causing a fuss and you will get her a window and we will allow her to be your girl.”

The guard slowly dying in the soldier’s clutch gasped as he was finally dropped.

“My name is Bucky. She calls me Bucky.”

Karpov and the other handlers nodded, watching the soldier comply with no further issues.

✭✭✭✭

You were escorted in Karpov’s office, having been awoken from cryo only mere minutes ago. Bucky was scheduled to come home that day. They rarely let you out of cryo when he was on missions. It kept him under control. If there was one thing Bucky would never do, it was endanger your life.

Karpov barely looked up from the paperwork he was filling out. “You are not to refer to Soldat as Bucky anymore. N—”

“I’m not calling him the Asset or Soldat.”

The man in front of you looked up with a bit of a smile. “I see the soldier’s bite has begun to rub off. You didn’t not let me finish. He will be referred to as Sergeant James Barnes. You may call him Bucky in the privacy of your own home but he must get used to his name once again. Assist him with that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Dismissed. Guards will be escorting you to your new chambers.”

You stood as straight as possible, preparing for the potential punishment you were about to face. “I’d like to request permission to give Sergeant Barnes his tags back if he is being allowed to become a sergeant again.”

You breathed in deeply when the man came from around the corner of his desk.

Karpov backhanded you. “If you ever hide something like that from us again, the consequences will be more severe.”

“Yes, sir,” you said through gritted teeth. “May I return his tags, sir?”

Karpov snatched them from your hands. You thought that was it. Accepting defeat, you let the guards escort you. You were taken to the first level of the garages. The first thing you noticed was that you were taken to an apartment building. It wasn’t far from the base and nothing else was around. You figured all the other residents were grunt workers for HYDRA. It might not have been the outside and in the city that you were hoping for but you could almost cry at the sight.

The apartment had a living room, two bedrooms, a large bathroom and a smaller half-bath. There was a dining room right off of the kitchen. And several catalogs of furniture laid on the floor.

Nat paused the video. “They didn’t want you brainwashed. They wanted you as an answer to Steve.”

The thought didn’t make the team feel much better. It was another form of manipulation but not through torture. Pity pulled at all of them as they watched you sit on the floor and excitedly thumb through magazines, bookmarking what you thought Bucky would also like. The team watched as back in the facility, Bucky was stopped by Karpov. The dialogue must not have mattered much because FRIDAY skipped right to Bucky coming into the apartment.

He laughed, gravelly from years of having not done so, when you jumped into his arms. Bucky pecked your lips before setting you down.

“We have our own place, Sergeant. There’s a patio.”

“A patio? Well, surely we need furniture for that as well.”

You held up a catalog. “This one is for clothes. Not many options but… We can feel normal.”

✭✭✭✭

Bucky wasn’t in tactical gear when he entered the apartment. That was the first thing they noticed.

The soldier wasn’t in his standard uniform or a simple black tank top and pants with his military boots. They gave him scrubs. Scrubs like the ones you used to wear. All in colors that matched your new dresses. The illusion of a normal life. Most importantly, his dog tags dangled on a chain, slipping out of his shirt as he bent down to take off his shoes. He made a beeline straight for the living room where you were reading some book in Russian.

Bucky leaned over the couch, pecking your lips. “We’re a bit low on groceries. I’ll put in a delivery order tomorrow. Is beef stroganoff okay?”

“You could make just a grilled cheese and I’d love it, Buck. Are you sure you don’t want me to cook? You just got back from wherever you’ve been.”

He adamantly shook his head. “Switzerland and you hate anything to do with the kitchen.”

“But you always cook.”

“And you always do the laundry. I rather like our arrangement. I don’t have to do any chores I hate, so why would I let my girl do the ones she doesn’t like? Hey, I got you something.”

He pulled a bar of chocolate from one pocket and a small teddy bear from the other. “Happy Birthday, doll. Sorry I was away for the real day.”

“Thank you!”

Bucky let you pull him down for a few more kisses before stating he had to get dinner ready. You had let him have his domain in the kitchen for a few minutes but you just had to enter. For a moment, you simply watched from the doorway. Bucky was cleaning up bowls that you could tell were holding cake batter just moments ago.

He lifted his head from staring at the pot of stroganoff when music started to play. You tugged at his arm to try and get him away from the food.

“The cake’ll burn. So will this.”

“We’ll set a timer,” you stated so simply.

Rolling his eyes, Bucky smiled as he lowered the stove’s temperature before letting you pull him away.

From the music playing through the radio, everyone could tell it was the 60s now. You and Bucky had been placed in cryo for nearly six years and neither one of you were even aware that it hadn’t been a single night. The two of you didn’t even register that the music was completely new. Instead, you danced in the kitchen without a care in the world.

They watched as you finally went to bed, content with life. Part of the reason you and Bucky didn’t seem to have a proper track of time was because of the new cryo chambers. HYDRA had configured your whole apartment to be one big chamber. The disorientation helped manage Bucky even better. Six years to the two of you just felt like a good eight hours of rest.

Knowing that there was such a big jump in time, the team thought now was an appropriate time to take a break.

Sharon and Maria agreed to monitor the video now on mute with just subtitles while the others moved around the conference room piling plates with food and filling cups with various drinks.

“Do you want anything?” Bucky asked you, pushing his plate a bit closer to your hand.

You shook your head. “The bad years are coming. I don’t think I have the stomach to eat and watch.”

A gasp from Sharon drew everyone’s attention before Bucky could ask you to define what the bad years meant.

“What?” Ross asked.

Silently, Sharon rewinded the video all the way to the beginning, turning up the volume. It was another one of Karpov’s logs. Only for once, he seemed more interested in the camera than usual when he normally does his paperwork while reporting. Karpov set down his pen and pushed a ledger aside.

“Sergeant Barnes and the Asset are starting to work together. His rampages have significantly improved. It seems as long as Barnes gets his girl and as long as she is safe, the Asset will comply. Fortunately, he has also confirmed with this revelation that the instability is purely from Barnes trying to gain control of himself again. We are working on how to eliminate that problem with future winter soldiers. For now, we are aiming for that goal rather than fixing the Asset. He has a solution that continues to work. It will do for now.

“If the newest rounds of soldiers prove to be effective and our improvements to the serums work then we will grant the Asset the one thing he has been asking for. He will be allowed to retire from all missions that are not deemed the highest level. He will resume his life as Sergeant Barnes, training other winter soldiers. And we are considering granting him and his girl a proper house away from the facility. He has not tried to run away since she has been with him and she is too weak mentally and physically to flee if given the freedom.

“The illusion of normal life has done well for him. If he wants a white picket fence and a silly ranch house, we feel confident in giving him that. Zola is coming from America to assess Barnes himself. He hasn’t given an official report yet however he believes that we will be able to transfer the Asset to America. Instead of a HYDRA base, he can live a little away from the city with L/N. Still monitored, of course. However, we might be able to remove surveillance from their house in a couple of years or so. Also, Sergeant Barnes has requested permission to marry Doctor L/N. We will be granting that request.”

It hurt Bucky more than he thought it would to see the wedding ceremony. It looked real. You were in a very pretty wedding dress. His tux looked just like one he was considering for him and Steve’s wedding in a couple years or so. The two of you looked so happy. He didn’t understand the turning point until it stared him in the face. HYDRA didn’t allow mistakes and the Asset had made a mistake. Several.

With you becoming his wife, he had started to care too much. He wasn’t failing his missions but he was getting sloppy. Bucky’s main objective was getting home to you. And that meant taking less risks, taking longer to hit targets, doing more spy work than sniper work if needed. All things that HYDRA didn’t like. But they couldn’t seem to agree on a route for correction.

“If we take her away then it will take us another decade to make the Asset perfect again. He almost believed he chose to be a part of HYDRA. He was nearing perfection. He needs her but he needs to care about her less,” Zola argued. “He needs to be taught what constitutes coming home to her versus what means spending nights in the cryo chamber alone.”

Karpov thought. “So we don’t take her away. We change his nature towards her. She can’t continue being his girl, not until we have studied this final stage more.”

Another official nodded. “She must be his punishment and reward.”

“She will reward him when he does what we want. She will punish him whenever he refuses to comply. And she will always look perfect. His mistakes no longer are a consequence to her. She is the consequence for him. When Sergeant Barnes is able to deliver us perfection, we will allow them to live the rest of their days as proper HYDRA operatives. He will get his doll back forever.”

The word doll left Karpov’s lips with so much venom.

✭✭✭✭

The first time Bucky failed in their eyes, you were brought into a prison cell. A riding crop was handed to you.

“No,” you whispered. How could they ask you to harm your own husband?

It only took one guard slapping you clear across the face for Bucky to call out to you. He tried to calm your tears, telling you to just do what HYDRA wanted. The reassurance he gave wasn’t much of a comfort. You were hurting him. No matter the circumstances, you couldn’t get over it so easily.

✭✭✭✭

A vicious cycle at the hands of HYDRA began. Whenever he failed, you and him were trapped in a prison cell with a riding crop or a taser until you did what they wanted. Whenever he succeeded, Bucky got to go back to the apartment with you with a box in his hand. It usually contained a sweet treat or a new vhs tape or some lingerie for you. And Bucky was given many days, sometimes even a whole week, to just be with his wife and make love to you.

You two cuddled a lot more than before. Bucky tended to hold you in his arms while your murmured apologies and let your healing powers dance against his temple. Neither one of you was sure if it mentally helped him or not but it became a comfort of sorts for both of you.

✭✭✭✭

The change didn’t come gradually. It was a sudden snap. Bucky had failed again and once again you both were locked in the prison cell. You felt like something was wrong when Bucky didn’t give you his customary “It’s alright sweetheart.” But the guards didn’t care, telling you that they’d double Bucky’s punishment if you didn’t get to it.

You were about halfway before he lunged at you. It might have been years but everyone still remembered what a rampage looked like.

The team watched many fast forwardings of Bucky’s rampages, all directed at you now. Bucky understood what you meant by the bad years now. It was like he didn’t exist anymore. All traces of James Barnes were practically gone until only the winter soldier remained.

Another one of Karpov’s logs appeared.

“The Asset’s feelings remain complicated towards L/N. He no longer takes to her rewards but is satisfied using her as a reward for himself. The wiping seems to be having that effect. He remembers a faint desire for her but seems to be under the impression that HYDRA is granting him this release. There is concern that L/N might not survive if he gets rougher.

"Whether from physical or mental stress we aren’t sure. The Asset seems to naturally default to patterns that mimic the apartment incident. The only reason we have yet to step in is we are noticing signs of Sergeant Barnes returning. He seems almost apologetic at harming L/N. We will continue watching this new development and if it is the final stage in his patterning. Ideally, we would have liked to give him the perfect HYDRA life but creating a controlled cycle will work as well.”

“I don’t think we need to see anymore,” Bucky muttered, pausing the video. “She’s cleared, right?”

The committee nodded. Without a shadow of a doubt, you were a victim of HYDRA like Bucky was. Both of you were doing what you were forced to do. They were delicate in their questioning, mainly wanting to know if there was anything they missed. Nick cleared his throat.

“That pattern Karpov mentioned, did it ever emerge?”

You nodded, pulling the dog tags out from underneath your shirt. “It was a routine. Every few years started with us being strangers, getting a few good years of marriage, me becoming the Asset’s handler and then his pet.”

“You never tried to leave or at least get away from Barnes. Why?” Nick tried to keep his voice soft.

“Because when they let me have my Bucky, he was the sweetest man I’ve ever known. You’ve met Sergeant Barnes. He’s always been a charmer. And I wasn’t going to let him go through that hell alone.”

Bucky’s fingers drummed against the table. “You were the tool they were supposed to be bringing me in D.C. a couple years ago, weren’t you?”

You nodded. “Probably. They said something about nearing your major rampage before I was put under.”

“So we were just going to do this again? This fucked up cycle?”

“Until the day one of us died.”

“And you stuck with it… With me.”

“Yeah.”

Bucky shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell us? We treated you like one of those fucking criminals.”

“Because you have built a life here, James. You have a partner and family and a really nice career. Why should I be allowed to come in and ruin that? I had a plan. Gain your trust, be pardoned or put on a watchlist or whatever, leave the tower and live some quiet life as a barista in Harlem or maybe Brooklyn. Maybe even Tribeca. I was content with that plan.”

“And that was good enough for you?” Tony asked. “Your husband leaving you and hating your guts?”

“We’ve essentially divorced many times. It doesn’t hurt any less even when I knew you were coming back to me eventually. This was just another one of those times, just permanently. I just wanted both of us safe and as normal as we can be after what’s happened to us.”

It wasn’t the answer everyone was expecting but it gave them an insight into your mind. No one really had a response. Even thinking about being in your position, they realized they were unsure of what they would have done.

“What did Karpov mean by the apartment incident?” Bucky asked, thinking about the last log.

“We were having really good years, no punishments necessary. I think everyone thought you had been perfected. But they had wiped you a little more than they meant to and it sent you into a rampage and you briefly forgot who I was. It’s nothing, Bucky.”

“It was just like my nightmares, wasn’t it? Just like when I hurt you in that prison cell.”

“Yes.” You debated lying but knew he hated that.

“How badly did I hurt you?”

“I don’t really remember,” you admitted. “The memory is still there but I don’t really remember the physical. It’s probably somewhere in the tapes you reco—”

“FRIDAY, please pul—”

“I don’t think you’ll want to see them, Bucky. I had become so used to Sergeant Barnes and they let you keep most of your memories about us any time you were wiped. It took a while for me to remember that you and the winter soldier weren’t the same person. We weren’t doing well for a while afterwards.”

“I need to see what I did to you.”

You didn’t try to argue with him, just nodded ever so slightly. For the first time in person, Steve knew how deeply involved you and Bucky had been. Anyone else would have kept arguing with him. But you could read the micro-expressions on his face and hear the slight bend in his voice that everyone else seemed to miss. You and Steve both knew he needed the closure of remembering everything.

Bucky’s jaw clenched as he watched you sit up straight when the front door slammed.

You barely had time to ask what had made him mad before his hand was around the back of your neck and practically dragging you to the kitchen table. Between the hardwood and his metal hand, you felt nothing but pain.

“Mine,” Bucky muttered, voice with the gravelly tone that came with the winter soldier mode.

Your hands flailed pathetically as you tried to get him to slow down a bit.

You excused yourself to the other room, knowing what came next. Your slight trembling as you tried to calm down wasn’t lost on them. They snapped back to attention when you began to beg Bucky — using his title, his first name, and his nickname at different intervals — to continue bruising your cervix rather than begin to prod at your other entrance.

“We’ve never done this before. James, please, no!”

The soldier pushed on, not even trying to accommodate as he set his own brutal pace. You watched the clock on the wall just hoping that he’d be finished soon. A sharp cry came from your throat as he practically ripped himself out of you. With a gentler touch than before, your nightgown was pulled back down.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. Shit, are you oka—”

You yanked one of the serrated knives from his tactical gear belt and ran to your bedroom before he could finish his sentence. Bucky didn’t try to get in even though he never heard the door lock. Instead, he kneeled in front of a closed door, forehead resting on it. Tears ran down his face, leaving wet spots on his tactical gear.

“Please, just open the door.” His voice cracked. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry. If I had known the Asset was going to rampage then I wouldn’t have come home.”

The cctv footage switched to inside the room. You were holding the serrated knife out in a fashion that showed you had never learned how to fight with it, shaking like a leaf as you stood as far away from the door as possible until you were up against the wall.

Bucky thought he was going to throw up at the sight, so familiar in ways to his first nightmare with you here in the tower but different at the same time. Your nightgown — instead of pajama shorts — was bloody mainly on the lower half. The lower half that wasn’t ripped up. Bruises littered your skin, most in the shape of his fingers. Your tears had dried up a while ago but the stains they left behind still trailed along your cheeks.

The door opened slowly. Bucky nearly jumped to his feet before kneeling back down at your sharp intake of breath. You both looked down at the blood trickle that now landed on your foot. Your trembling resumed.

“Let me help you with that.”

You flinched. “I-I can do it… I think I just need some time, James.”

He began to cry again, watching you twist your body so you could avoid touching him. Announcing everything he did so that you wouldn’t be startled, Bucky moved into the second bedroom that was just used as an office and glorified closet. He didn’t bother to look at the catalogs that HYDRA left, he didn’t need another bed. The floor was good enough for now. Bucky didn’t care about comfort but about your wellbeing.

Every night for a month, Bucky slept on the couch. Whenever your apartment wasn’t turned into a cryo chamber, he’d clutch a pillow so tight that seams were on the verge of ripping and listen to your nightmares. Early one morning, he knocked on the bedroom door and waited for a hitch in your breath. You never answered him but he knew when you were awake.

“I have a mission. I’ll be gone for two months.”

✭✭✭✭

You paced back and forth, wringing out your hands.

“It wasn’t him,” you muttered to yourself, taking deep breaths as you stared at the clock.

He was supposed to be coming home in a couple of hours.

“It wasn’t him. Bucky wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He’s coming home, not the Asset. Bucky wouldn’t hurt me. He didn’t hurt me.”

It pained the team to watch your panic. You didn’t look like you believed your own words, not that they could blame you. Bucky stopped paying attention to the screen, although he was still listening. Instead his focus was on you in the other room. He could easily see you through the glass, the way your leg kept bouncing up and down as you sat there.

You turned abruptly when the door started to open. Bucky barely had time to inform you that he was back before you hugged him tightly. You repeated the mantra that you had been saying since the day he left. He stood there frozen for a moment before slowly wrapping both of his arms around you. Both of you sighed for two different reasons as he came to rest his cheek on the top of your head.

“Thank you for forgiving me, sweetheart,” he whispered, almost afraid to speak out loud and break the fragile reconciliation you two have built up. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know it wasn’t you, Bucky.”

“But I scared you all the same. It doesn’t matter what they did to me. I scared you.”

“I just forgot it wasn’t you.”

“Don’t do that, doll. Don’t spare my feelings.”

You nodded and took a breath. “It did terrify me. I-I couldn’t tell the difference between you and the soldier. I can handle it when I know it’s not you but…”

“I’ll make sure they never let me be home again unless it’s confirmed that it’s just me. Okay?”

You sniffled but nodded.

Both you and Bucky jumped at the clap of thunder. He held you closer as if that would drown out the sound of rain hitting the windows, pressing another kiss to your hairline.

“I’m sorry about that as well.”

“I know it’s the soldier.”

“Still, you shouldn’t have to know. Write down exactly how you know it’s me and not the soldier.”

“You want a checklist?”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, Y/N. Give me a checklist. How about I go run you a bath and make dinner and we can watch a movie.”

“They dropped off a new box of vhs tapes. My Neighbor Totoro looks nice. Calm.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Bucky got up the moment the footage ended. The same way he could see you, the team could see him through the glass wall. He hugged you tightly, not saying anything but just hugging you. Bucky took your face in both hands.

“Are you okay? Really, don’t lie to me.”

“It was more triggering than I thought. Fuck, I should be fine by now.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t do that. You shouldn’t be anything after what’s happened to you. Okay?”

You nodded, going in for another hug to try and ground yourself. Bucky only pulled away when he felt you finally loosen your hold.

“Whatever you need from me, I’ll help you. Seriously, Y/N. Even if you want to move out of the tower and to another country, just call me. Even if I’m busy, I’ll make sure Steve or Sam or Nat is there.”

✭

TAGLIST:

@lil-riddle-kiddle @valckenaux @fries11 @blackterrae @violetlilites @dakotali @23victoria @dottirose @marsmallow433 @seventeen-x @vicmc624 @topgun-imagines @hadenough333

#avengers fic #marvel fic #bucky hurt/comfort #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #stucky x reader

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mirhashi · 2 days ago

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Everything hurt. Odysseus woke up on a hard floor. The last thing he remembered was being dragged down with Poseidon forever. He blacked out before he was able to see where they were going. He lifted his head slowly, a pain shooting through his body causing him to wince in pain. He slowly looked around; he was in a stone room, most likely a dungeon—he couldn’t tell. He tried to move his arms, but that’s when he realized there were chains around his wrists and ankles. He went limp against the wall. He looked up; he wasn’t dead, but he wished he was.

He heard footsteps, causing him to jerk and cower in the corner. “Ah, you’re awake!” A female voice called out, “Lord Poseidon dropped you off in here and told us to check on you.” The woman walked over to his cell door and opened it. She moved over to him. Odysseus moved away from her, clearly scared. “If it makes you feel any better, Poseidon made it clear to all the servants we can’t harm you; only he could,” she said, slowly reaching out and unchaining him. “What are you doing…?” He asked and looked at the chains.

“The master wanted us to make sure you’re shown around. He said you can’t be a good servant if you don’t know your way around,” she said, helping him up. She led him out of the dungeon. She showed him around. The palace was covered with sea green decorations and gold designs across the wall. It was clear it belonged to a god. He looked out a window to see they were underwater with fish swimming around.

“How…” “If you’re wondering how the glass isn’t breaking from the pressure, I do not know myself, just that it does,” she said, looking at him before continuing down the hall.

“Where is…he?” Odysseus whispered, looking at the woman. “He said he had to go deal with something; he will be back,” she said, looking back at him. Odysseus looked around; he needed a way out. “There’s no way out unless he takes you himself,” she said as if she could read his mind. Odysseus looked at the ground. They kept walking around the servant, explaining different things and how things work. She introduced Odysseus to the others. “That’s the lord’s room; none of us are allowed in there,” she said as they passed by a room. “This is the lord’s bedroom; one of the servants will help when it comes to waking him up,” she said the last part a bit uneasily. They kept talking, and eventually they started talking about what happened before they became servants. After that they cleaned a little.

Poseidon wasn’t there all day. Odysseus was glad he wasn’t. He didn’t even want to think what he would do to him. After a while the servants started to head to what seemed like their room.

“I don’t know where Lord Poseidon wants you to stay yet, but if you’d like, you can come with me and stay with me,” she said. “I’m good... I’ll go back and stay in that…cell,” he whispered. After being with Calypso for seven years, he didn’t trust staying in a room with a woman sleeping. He made his way to the cell. Oh, how uncomfortable it looked! He sat down in there, curling up in the corner. He felt so weak; he will never again see his wife and son because of his stupidity.

There were still screams in his head. He covered his ears, the same word being repeated: “Captain! Captain!” They haunted him. “Captain! Why would you let the cyclops live when ruthlessness is mercy!” He curled up on the floor. Tears falling down his face.

“Odysseus!” A voice rang out, waking him up. He sat up, his body sore from the hard floor. It was the woman. “The lord isn’t back yet, so I assume he must be at Mt. Olympus.” She said, Help him, but in the meantime, we have work to do.” She helped him around, explaining the routines that they do and how he could help.

“Though you might be a personal servant to Lord Poseidon from the way he was speaking,” she said. They walked around as they started to get some stuff done. He learned her name was Eleni. They were talking and cleaning when Odysseus felt a presence walking into the room. He tensed up. The servants bowed their heads, and Odysseus did the same, not daring to look at him. He moved over. “Glad you guys met,” Poseidon said, his clawed hand coming up and grabbing Odysseus’s face, forcing him to look up. “Look at you, King of Ithaca, the man who blinded my son, who insulted the gods, finally in his place as a servant for the gods,” he sneered, throwing him into a wall. Odysseus yelped in pain as he slowly sat up. The servants took a step back. “Out,” Poseidon said to them. They all left. Eleni looked at Odysseus before leaving. “I should give you to my son so he can make you feel the pain he did,” Poseidon said, grabbing Odysseus’s hair. Odysseus whimpered as he tried to pull Poseidon’s hand away from his hair. Poseidon only tightened his grip. “But my son will end up killing you,” he sneered, slamming Odysseus’s face into the ground. Odysseus cried out in pain, blood trickling down his face. “And where’s the fun in that?” he said, walking away. “Go get cleaned up and clean up that blood on the floor,” Poseidon said, leaving the room. Odysseus groaned in pain as he sat up. He wiped his nose, blood smearing on his hand.

Eleni walked in, seeing Odysseus cleaning the blood mess. “Are you ok?” She asked, walking over, “I don’t know, a god practically just used me as a toy to take his anger out on.” He grumbled as he finished cleaning the mess. “It will get easier...hopefully,” she whispered, helping him. He looked at the ground, shaking his head. “No, it won’t. That god held a grudge for ten years…” he whispered.

The time went by slowly. Anytime Poseidon needed something, Odysseus was the one that needed to do it. Every time, he got a new bruise or scar from it. He was slammed into a wall, blood dripping down his head. “Lord Poseidon, I’m sorry for questioning you, but at this point you might kill him!” Eleni finally spoke up. Poseidon glared at her before turning. “Clean that blood up,” he snapped, walking off, his hair flowing behind him like water. His toga dragging against the floor. ‘Clean that blood up.’ He heard that same sentence maybe five times today. Eleni helped him clean up before patching him up. “At this point…I’m going to be dead by tomorrow.” He whispered, wincing as Eleni wiped his face. “I’m sorry…” she whispered.

Poseidon did keep his side of the deal, though…

Ithaca, Telemachus was returning home after a mission he went on. He hoped that maybe when he docked his ship, his father would be there with his mother, but he knew that was just a dream. He docked his ship, and climbing down, he helped some of his crew unload the supplies. He walked until a group of men jumped out of the bushes. They tackled the young prince. “Get off me!” He yelled for his crew to come help, but another group of men held them back. Antinous walked out with a knife in his hand. “This is going to be fun,” he smiled, flipping the knife. Telemachus struggled as best he could, but the men were too strong. The water around the shore started to grow chaotic. Antinous went to slice the boy's throat, but something threw him back—something powerful. He hit the tree hard. Telemachus looked up, moving away as the suitors cowered back, seeing the figure in front of them. “Poseidon…?” Telemachus whispered, backing up. An owl flew by, landing near Telemachus. Even as an owl, Telemachus could tell Athena was confused. “How I love your attempt. Unfortunately, I can’t let you kill these boys; he and his mother will be under my protection for the time being,” Poseidon said, not really seeming happy. The suitors back up. “And your time as being a suitor is unfortunately over; you can go back to your normal life. The queen will rule by herself,” he said, knowing he was getting kind of bored. That’s when one of the suitors spoke up. “You can’t take that away from us!” Dumb idea. Poseidon looked at him. “Oh, I can’t? And who are you to tell a god what I can and can’t do?” he said, moving over to him. “Say it again…I dare you,” Poseidon said in a low tone. The suitor cowered in fear. “I’m sorry, Lord Poseidon!” He said, falling to his knees and bowing. Poseidon stood up straight, wiping off his toga. “Disgusting,” he sneered. “Y’all can go now,” he said, flipping his hand. The suitors practically ran. He turned, and that’s when he was faced with Athena. “What the fuck are you doing?!” She snapped, “Does it matter?” He said, raising an eyebrow. “Why are they under your protection? What did you do!” She sneered, “I didn’t do anything; I just made a deal. I’m holding my part of the deal. Come on, Athena, I have some dignity,” he said, looking at her and then at Telemachus. He sneered, “You look just like your father.” Telemachus sat up. “My father? Is he alive? Is he ok?! You've seen him! Where is he? Telemachus said quickly. Poseidon blinked. “You ask too many questions,” he sneered. Athena stepped in. “What did you do to Odysseus?” she snapped. “I only made a deal: he comes and serves me for life, and I protect his family.” Poseidon shrugged. “You can’t…” “I can, and I did. The deal was already made; no going back now.” He said, narrowing his eyes at Athena.

Poseidon walked with Telemachus and Athena back to the palace. Poseidon told Penelope that she will no longer need suitors and she and her son will be under his protection from now on. As Poseidon left to go back to the ocean, Athena stopped him. “If I find out you killed Odysseus!” She said, “Oh, Athena, he isn’t your student anymore. After all, you said your goodbyes. He is my servant now.” He smiled, going into the water, and said, “And I’ll do whatever I want to my servant,” before he merged with the water, disappearing from view.

#epic the musical #epic odysseus #odyseidon #epic poseidon #fanfic

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allthepandasintheworld · 11 months ago

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I just realized I can’t say Rene and Alois live in my head rent free. Like, they do pay rent.

The rent is emotional support

#not art #it took me like 9 years to realize this #which is also a wild realization all on its own #it’s really been nine years… in real world years rene is going to 5th grade this year…#that’s just wild #they’ve literally supported me through so much #rene in particular bc he’s like MINE mine. not like. an in-law #back in high school id pretend he was running with me when we did the mile #bc I could imagine him struggling and it was kinda funny so it kept me going #he was also the channel for so much vent art #he was kinda the guy I’d daydream with instead of daydreaming about real people and my self insert #it was a lot healthier (relatively speaking)#and he also pushed me to hone my art skills #I specifically learned how to draw that slicked back hairstyle just so I could draw him #and how to do a more western comic style #bc he looked awful in the anime style I used to have #he was kinda the catalyst behind a lot of the decisions that I ended up making. and he led me to my two best friends #he just means a lot to me ok #my little guy. who knew you’d mean this much to me #who knew you’d bring me so many good things #like crow and I obv met in the rp scene #but Keyx and I met bc I talked about how Rene was from marseille and they were like omg no one ever makes non-Parisian spies #and we got to talking #and eventually that’s why I even committed to studying abroad in Paris #well originally I wanted to go to marseille but they transferred me to Paris bc they didn’t have enough students at the marseille campus for #our major #which was fine I guess but I wish I had gotten to go to the marseille campus. it was way more chill.#even so I did meet a lot of nice classmates in Paris. they were mostly pretty accommodating to my lackluster French #anyway none of this would’ve happened if i didn’t have Rene #so. yknow. he’s my special little guy. so much of my life has changed just bc I have him.

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jinwoosbabyboo · 6 months ago

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Self-Aware!Sylus x Down-bad!Player

Sylus becoming aware he is a character in a game and now he’s aware of you as well. A modern day Romeo & Juliet story here …. A tragic love story A/N: Don’t fight me [Requested by: Anon]

continue ↣

Self-Aware!Sylus who realizes he’s in a game when he can sense your energy on the other side of a phantom wall. He can hear you squealing when he calls you honey and you're radiating happiness when you send him random emojis.

Self-Aware!Sylus who finally sees you when he happens to be looking around during a photoshoot and sees your shocked face when he makes eye contact. He smirks and turns back to the in-game version of you. “Why are you out there?” You dropped your phone and stared at it in shock. Did Sylus just ….. talk to you? You muttered a low ‘Hello?’ but got no response. You brushed it off as you just being tired and on the game too long.

Self-Aware!Sylus who manages to create a keyboard in your chat so he can actually text you. You were so confused when you opened it and it allowed you to type without just pressing a prompt. You gave it a spin with a quick ‘Hey Sylus’ something simple. Of course the message was read immediately and he replied with a ‘Hello [your name]’ you stared at the screen in shock not knowing if this was a new update or if you were just going crazy.

Self-Aware!Sylus who chuckles when he sees you pouting because you didn’t get his card so when you close the app and lay down he gifts you the card himself. You opened the app and the first thing Sylus says to you is “I don’t like seeing you sad, check your memories I left a gift for you”. When you open your memories you see that you not only got his most recent card but all of his five star memories. “What's happening here?” “You’re smile is so captivating I just had to see it again”

Self-Aware!Sylus who opens the app randomly throughout the day so he can see you “I haven’t seen you all day what are you doing?” causing you to snatch your phone off the table because he always seems to catch you when you’re at work or around a group of people. “Sylus I'm at work I'll call you when I get off” he crosses his arms and seems to be pouting? “I don’t like how much you have to work I don’t see you as often” “Well not all of us are billionaires some of us work for said billionaires to make a living” “I wish I could take care of you….” “You and me both”

Self-Aware!Sylus who teases you when he wins a game of kitty cards or who uses his evol to get every stuffed animal for you when you get frustrated. “You sure do wear your heart on your sleeves sweetie”

Self-Aware!Sylus who stares directly at you when you’re doing a photoshoot with your in-game MC “Sylus focus on her so I can get the picture” “I want to focus on you though” “She is me” “…..she’s not”

Self-Aware!Sylus who tells you not to fall in love because he’s not real, but he falls head over heels in love with you anyway. From the late night conversations of you explaining your world to him and just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. He can’t help it one night when you’re up late on the phone as always he just has to ask “Do you love me?” you’re shocked by his question, but swiftly answer with a shy “Yea I do”

Sylus: I thought we agreed not to fall in love Y/N: I was already in love you just noticed late Sylus: I believe I fell harder You giggled as something somber settled in your chest. Y/N: We’ll never truly be together you know? Sylus: I know and yet I continue to long for you …. I wish I could kiss you Y/N: I wish you could too…..

Self-Aware!Zayne Self-Aware!Xavier Self-Aware!Rafayel Self-Aware!Caleb

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#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads sylus #sylus x you #l&ds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus qin #Sylus salads #self aware love and deepspace salads #nikaaaaimagine

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holeforzenin · 27 days ago

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𝜗𝜚˚⋆ PARK KID ASKING IF YOU AND ROOMMATE TOJI ARE MARRIED

It was a bright, quiet Saturday afternoon when you and Toji decided to take a break from the usual routine and go to the park to get some fresh air. The sun was high up in the sky, the air warm and crisp with the promise of spring. You both hadn’t had much time to spend outside together as roommates so the decision to take a stroll and enjoy the fresh air felt like a good welcoming change.

Toji, as usual had his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket, his casual stride effortless and laid-back. You walked beside him, your hands swinging at your sides, a slight smile on your face as you took in the peaceful and refreshing atmosphere.

The park was lively— families picnicking, little kids running around, and the occasional dog chasing after a ball. It was a serene scene, and for once, it felt nice to just exist in the simplicity of it all.

As you walked, you and Toji talked about little things— nothing in particular, just the kind of chatter that happens when you’re not focused on anything in particular. You found a small bench near a fountain and after sitting down, you both just relaxed, enjoying the scenery.

A few moments passed in comfortable silence and that’s when you heard a small, high-pitched voice break through the calm.

“Are you guys married?”, The voice came from a little boy, no older than six or seven, standing in front of the bench. His wide eyes were filled with curiosity as he gazed up at both you and Toji, his hands clasped behind his back as he waited for an answer.

Toji glanced down at the boy, his eyebrow quirking up slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he leaned back on the bench. You could feel your face flush at the sudden question, a little caught off guard by how direct the kid was being.

“I— uh no, we’re not married,” you said, a laugh escaping your lips as you tried to figure out how to explain the situation. You caught Toji’s eyes and he gave you a small, teasing smirk.

The kid wasn’t finished though. His gaze shifted to Toji, his eyes narrowing slightly as he seemed to assess him then his voice came out with a completely innocent tone. “Isn’t he a bit too old for you, miss?”

The question hung in the air for a moment. You froze for a split second, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment but then you caught Toji’s amused expression. He wasn’t fazed by the question at all— if anything, it seemed to amuse him more than anything else.

“Well kid, life doesn’t always follow the rules,” Toji said with a chuckle, his voice calm and casual as he leaned forward slightly. “What’s important is that we get along, right?” He shot you a sideways glance, a playful glint in his eye. “And I’d say we get along pretty damn well”.

You rolled your eyes at him, laughing nervously, but the kid didn’t seem to notice your mild discomfort. He was already looking up at Toji with an almost serious expression then back at you.

“You’re lucky,” the kid said, his tone thoughtful. “He’s big and strong! Like a superhero”.

You let out a small laugh, trying to recover from the awkward moment. Toji grinned, clearly enjoying the kid’s unabashed honesty.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Toji said, his smirk widening as he looked down at the kid. “But not all heroes wear capes, kid. Some of us just keep things simple, ya know?"

The kid nodded seriously as if everything Toji said made perfect sense. Then without another word, he turned and ran off, his little feet thudding softly against the pavement as he rejoined his group of friends playing nearby.

You let out a sigh of relief, smiling at how the situation had unfolded. Toji on the other hand, leaned back into the bench, looking completely unbothered.

“Not every day I get called a superhero,” Toji mused, glancing at you with a raised brow. “You think he’s got a point?”

You rolled your eyes again, though a smile tugged at your lips. “You wish, huh?”

He just grinned, the teasing energy still very much present but there was something else in his eyes too— something softer, something that made the situation feel… oddly comforting.

“Well, I like the sound of it. I guess I do my best to keep you safe,” Toji said, leaning his shoulder against yours and giving it a playful nudge. “How about it, kid? You want me to be your superhero?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous and sweet the moment had turned out to be. “Yeah, yeah, you’re my superhero,” you said, shaking your head fondly at him.

Toji’s grin softened as he glanced at you. “Well, that’s good enough for me,” Toji said with a small smile, letting out a contented sigh as he leaned back again, the comfortable atmosphere of the park settling back around you both.

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1-800-adore-me · 3 months ago

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Quickies are never possible with Caleb .

🍎nsfw warning (18+) + tags:, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names (baby, honey, sweetie/sweetheart, princess, etc…), biting, praise kink, big cock, deep creampie, overstimulation, inappropriate usage of Caleb’s evol [ 1.3k words | porn without plot ] [A/N: i really want to write about Caleb using his mechanical arm...]

Here’s the thing that you quickly realized with Caleb ever since the two of you have became intimate: You could never do quickies with him.

And it is very hard to say no to quickies when it comes to Caleb, especially with those big puppy eyes of his. It’s that sweet voice that he possesses that can easily fog your judgement. “Just 5 minutes, princess. It’s all I ask for, okay? I won’t take long, sweetie. I just- I just need you right now, yeah? Understand me, sweetheart? I just need to feel you real quick and we can get going, okay?”

And who were you to deny him? Ever since you guys were little, you were always weak to his wishes. If Gran asked if you wanted to go to the grocery store with her and get some snacks, you would say no - giving an excuse of something like: “I’m tired” or “I have homework to do.”

Oh, but if Caleb asked you to? It didn’t matter if you pulled 2 all-nighters straight to study for an exam or if you barely woke up a minute ago, you were already rushing to put on your clothes and head out. Sure, you’d complain about how he decided to go at an inconvenient time but really, you were just happy to be by his side. With that sweet smile of his that is only seen with you, it felt like you needed nothing else from the world.

Which is why Caleb was currently drilling his big, thick cock inside your sopping wet cunt right now. This all happened because you couldn’t muster a simple “no” to his request after he walked in on you changing after a shower. You knew that your period was going to come soon so in order to prepare for it, you shaved your pubic hair so it wouldn’t get too messy down there. Just when you were slipping on your underwear, Caleb walked in to see the sight of your plush, bare pussy. It began with a simple - “Just let me feel you, baby. Just real quick, okay? I’ll even wash you again after.”

Perhaps you wanted this to happen as well because if you were stronger, you could’ve easily said ‘no’. But was it really your fault that his voice was just so irresistible?

“Aah-...! Haahn- C-Caleb! Caleb…!” His name, along with your dirty moans, were the only sounds that could be made from your drooling mouth. He was on top of you, relentlessly pumping his hard cock in and out of your pussy that was just gushing juices everytime his shaft pulled out of you. He thought that it was so cute that your cunt didn’t want to let go of him.

“What is it, princess?” He’d say in a playful tone, chuckling as he did so. “What do you want me for, baby? You’re saying my name so much… You always say my name so pretty.” He teased the opening of your mouth with his thumb, which you then began sucking as if he had another cock. You could see that his eyes darkened with lust as you licked and teased his tongue before enveloping your soft lips around his digit.

When he dragged his cock out of your pussy, only leaving his thick tip inside, before bucking his hips forward and shoving it all back inside, you bit down on his thumb to contain your cries. He hissed at the pain, letting out another rich chuckle from his throat.

“You want to give me another bite mark again, honey? Go ahead, give me everything you have. I’ll take it all so long as it’s you.” He pressed his pelvis closer to yours, trying to get deeper into your cunt. You could feel him reaching the depths of your sobbing pussy and the only thing that you could do was take all of Caleb inside of you. Along with that, he decided to torture you by rubbing your swollen clit with his large, big fingers. Your soft walls clenched around his thickness as you began squirting now - your mouth opening to let out a cry.

Your squirts began dirtying his abs, soaking it with all of your slick and wetness. He let out a dark laughter, satisfied by your adorable reaction to him fucking the shit out of you.

Caleb continued to fuck you as you orgasmed, enjoying the feeling of your walls getting wetter and tighter with every spasm he forced out of you. He felt delirious now, moaning as he felt you give him everything you had from your cunt. - “Fuuck, baby… You feel so fucking good inside. You’re taking my big cock so good with your pretty ltitle cunt, honey.” You tried to get up and slap away his hand in order to stop the overstimulation but you quickly felt his evol stopping you - forcing you to stay in your current position. You were just a fuckdoll laying down on his bed, forced to take whatever torture he wished to lay on you.

You started sobbing as he didn’t stop thrusting inside of you nor did he stop his fingers from playing with your swollen bundle of nerves. Your hips began squirming down and you, yourself, were unsure if you really wanted him to stop or not.

He leaned down to start to kiss you, tasting all of the sweet gummies that he had bought you earlier. One of his free hands intertwined itself with yours, a kind gesture that contrasted how brutal his thrusts were. He was fucking you into the mattress, as if he was trying to get inside your womb room.

The sound of skin slapping against another rang out in his bedroom, along with your cries and moans that you couldn’t help let out. - “Be a good girl for me and cum again, princess. Who’s making you cum? Say my name again with that pretty mouth of yours.” And in response, you moaned out his name again as if it was the only word you knew. Happy with your response, he dragged out his cock until the tip was the only thing left inside, and then slammed it inside of you again. A wet plap! noise was heard, along with your screams. The mattress underneath you was absolutely drenched with cum, slick, and squirt - all because Caleb needed to see you be absolutely ruined underneath him.

“-Mmph… mmm! Baby, I’m so close… I’m gonna go fast now, okay? I’ll let it all in your baby room, sweetheart. Let’s make a cute baby, yeah?” He said against your neck as he began suckling the sensitive skin and nipping at it with his teeth. You weren’t even sure if you could cover them with your Hunter uniform as he began biting the very center of your throat, making you squirm against his evol. His hold on your hand tightened as you felt his brutal pace began going faster. You could feel his cock begin pulsating as he released his seed deep inside of you, pumping in a few last thrusts into your abused pussy in order to make sure that your womb was drinking every single last drop of his precious cum. He whispered your name against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. - “So good, you feel so fucking good… You’re milking me, honey…”

The feeling of his thick cum filling you up made you begin squirting again as you both climaxed together. Your poor abused cunt was grinding against his cock still inside of you, the both of you moaning as you rode your orgasms.

When you felt Caleb release his evol, you sat up and grabbed his face - kissing him deeply as you craved his every person. You needed him more than ever as your mind slowly became more delirious as well.

He chuckled against your lips as you two took a small break to breathe. “Looks like someone is ready for round two then?”

Perhaps this was why you would never believe Caleb asking you for quickies.

#love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace #caleb x mc smut #caleb x you #caleb x mc #caleb x reader #caleb x y/n #lads caleb #lnds caleb #caleb smut #l&ds caleb

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snowballseal · 9 months ago

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Pretty Bird

Sylus X Reader

Summary: Sylus is jealous of you giving Mephisto attention. That's it. You tease him when you find out.

Word Count: 2123

Note: Nothing really, hope I did him justice! His dialogue is a little harder for me to nail down.

---

The first time it happens is when you cross to the N109 Zone to accompany Sylus on an “errand”.

The first thing you do when you reach the ornate, empty house - of course - is say hello to your favorite bird.

“Hey there pretty bird.”

Mephisto squawks, bobbing excitedly on his perch as you bound up to him. You grin and give the crow a gentle scratch on his head. He preens under your touch, mechanical feathers fluffing with another quiet, scruffy caw. Adorable.

Despite his unnerving gaze, which you find to be eerily similar to a certain Onychinus leader, you can’t help but love the little bird. For some reason, it always comforts you a little bit to see him perched outside your apartment, or following you around Linkon. He always tries to act like he’s not spying on you, but you know he is, and you know he’s going to report right back to Sylus. Maybe that’s why it’s comforting.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to sway his loyalties.”

Speak of the devil.

“As if,” you snicker, giving the bird one final scratch before spinning on your heels to face Sylus. He sits across the room in one of his big armchairs, eyes glued to the gun he’s loading, face carefully blank. As always. You saunter over and pop yourself onto the arm of the chair, bumping his shoulder. “You know Mephisto doesn’t listen to anyone but you. I’m just like the fun mom who gives him things.”

His lips twitch ever so slightly, “Mmm, does that make me your husband in this situation?”

Heat creeps up your cheeks.

You are no stranger to Sylus’ flirty nature. That’s how things have always been between you, though it only really gets to you now. Before, when you kind of hated his guts, it was just annoying. Well, maybe even then-

“You wish,” you retort, but there’s no hiding the blush painting your cheeks.

“Hm, I thought you knew me better than that, sweetie.” In an instant, his hand curls around your wrist, giving it a sharp tug that knocks you off balance. You let out an undignified squeak, tumbling right into his lap. And before you can squirm away, Sylus locks an arm over your legs, keeping you trapped against him. Those red eyes freeze you in place, dark and warm with mischief. “Why would I wish for something I could so easily take?”

You stare at him, eyes blown wide, face completely red now. You can’t even form any words in response, which seems to amuse him even more. A smirk curls his lips, and he gives your hip a playful pinch.

“What? Crow got your tongue, sweetie?”

You sputter, finally finding your voice, “Sylus!”

“Good. Now that you’re focused, we can go handle business.” Sylus sets you on the ground, making sure you’re steady before he stands nonchalantly and tucks his gun in its holster. Like nothing just happened! “We don’t want to be late now, do we?”

Before you can even say anything more, he’s heading for the door. It takes a few seconds to shake yourself from your state of shock, and then you’re quickly following after him.

“Sylus-!”

He cuts you off, that stupid, attractive smirk still on his lips, “And by the way, try not to spoil Mephisto too much, sweetie. He’s grown rather petulant when you’re not around.”

You’re pretty sure your blush sticks around for the entire car ride after.

---

The second time is when you visit on one of your off days.

When you get there, Sylus is still asleep. You take a moment to crouch by his bed, a fond smile adorning your lips as you take in his peaceful face. You remember when he used to sleep sitting up, so he was ready for anything, but now he looks relaxed. Though you still spot the gun tucked under his bed.

Deciding not to bother him, you quietly make your way back out to the living room and grab a book. It’s about the only way to pass time in the N109 Zone, at least, without getting yourself into anything dangerous. As soon as you sit down, Mephisto flaps across the room and lands on your arm, plopping himself down into your lap like a cat.

A giggle escapes you when the crow throws his head back, looking up at the most awkward angle you can imagine. You give his beak a little rub, and he makes a soft clicking sound, beady red eyes falling shut.

“I swear, it’s almost like you’re a crow with cat programming,” you hum, mostly to yourself. Mephisto ruffles his feathers, though, at the word ‘cat’, eyes flashing back open. You snort, easing a hand over his wings, “No worries, pretty bird, no cats. I’m just kidding.”

He settles back down, seemingly embarrassed by his reaction, which only makes you want to coddle him more. So cute. If only Sylus would be this cute with you. Heat tinges your cheeks at the thought of the tall man resting against your lap, looking up at you with softly narrowed eyes, humming in content as you pet his ha-

Snapping your book open, you throw yourself into the story in hopes of banishing such rogue thoughts. If Sylus knew what you were imagining, he would tease you for years. You really don’t want to feed his ego even more. Mephisto wedges himself between your arm and your side, happy to just fall asleep as you read, oblivious to your inner turmoil.

It doesn’t take you long to actually get immersed in the storyline, though. So much so that you don’t hear the steps coming up behind you.

“It seems you come here more often to spend time with Mephisto than with me.”

You practically jump out of your skin when a strong arm circles your shoulders. Sylus’ voice is a low rumble in your ear, thick with sleep. He leans over the back of your chair, and you narrowly miss the way he eyes the bird in your lap with distaste. He looks far too content curled up on your lap.

“I didn’t want to bother you while you were sleeping,” you hum, closing the book.

He grumbles, sleepy eyes shifting to bore into you. The smallest pout pulls at his lips, and you have to stifle a giggle as you reach up to smooth down his messy hair. Sylus leans into your touch, much like Mephisto did, his eyes flickering shut. Okay, maybe he is just as cute.

“Are you mad I didn’t come cuddle with you?” You tease. Sleepy Sylus is definitely your favorite Sylus. “I didn’t know the big, bad Onychinus leader likes to snuggle.”

“It’s simply to ensure you don’t cause trouble in the N109 Zone,” he murmurs, still just as quick-witted though he’s half-asleep, “I can’t have my kitten wandering around all by herself, now can I?”

“I was just reading, Sylus. No trouble here.”

“Hmm, then you might as well come read in bed.”

You hesitate, fingers tracing along his jaw lightly, “You sure I won’t disturb your sleep?”

Those dark eyes blink back open lazily, a rare, genuine smile dancing in their depths, “Trust me, kitten, my sleep will be much better with you at my side.”

God, you’re weak for this man. Mephisto squawks his complaints as you lift him from your lap, but takes off to his perch without much fight. Sylus feels a flash of victory as you intertwine your fingers. The sensation of your small hand in his eases the strange tightness in his chest whenever you’re apart. He curls his other arm around you possessively, sending the bird a smug smirk.

You catch it this time, lifting a brow as you glance between him and Mephisto. Your brain stalls. Was he…jealous? No way. There’s no way Sylus would be jealous of you spending time with his bird. He’s more mature than that…or maybe not, you realize as he drags you back to his bed, only to lay himself over you like a large cat, using your lap as his pillow. Exactly as you imagined.

Your heart flutters a little, which you’re sure he hears somehow, because he squeezes your waist teasingly. You pinch his cheek lightly before running your fingers through his snowy hair. It’s always softer than you expect.

“Go to sleep, Sylus,” you murmur, voice far too fond, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He hums, and you can feel the sound vibrate through his body. Almost like a purr.

God, you don’t even have a chance, do you?

---

The final time is when you visit the N109 Zone to attend another auction with Sylus. And this time, you catch him in it.

“Where’s Mephisto?”

Sylus’ face sours at your question. You bite back a smile.

Ever since the day you spent napping in his room, you haven’t been able to escape that thought swirling in the back of your mind. So you decided to test your theory. Sylus is always messing with you, afterall. It’s only fair you get a bit of revenge.

“I sent him out to gather intel,” Sylus huffs eventually. Why do you always look for that d*** bird first? “That is his purpose, afterall.”

“Oh.” You feign sadness, letting out a long sigh. “That’s too bad! I brought him some treats.”

“Well, you can leave them here. I’m sure he’ll eat them later,” he says, voice dismissive as he fixes the cuffs of his coat.

“Hmm-” You slowly make your way over to him. Those perceptive eyes narrow on you, watching you carefully while you straighten his collar. “Will he be here later? Maybe I can give them to him after the auction. I miss my pretty bird.”

Amusement curls in your chest when you see the man’s brows twitch ever so slightly. He’s really annoyed. Now you understand why he loves pushing your buttons so much.

“No, I’m afraid he’ll be busy all night.” You can practically hear him gritting his teeth. Almost there. You keep your eyes focused on his coat, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. He’s trying to figure you out and you’re scared that if you look up, the laughter you're holding back will break loose. Instead, you put on an exaggerated pout.

“That’s unfortunate. I was really hoping to see him tonight.”

Sylus growls. Actually growls in annoyance.

“Would you prefer to have Mephisto on your arm tonight instead of me?” His words come out biting and harsh, tinged with unmistakable jealousy.

The air goes silent.

Before you burst into a fit of giggles. Sylus’ eyes widen when you collapse against his chest, your entire body shaking with laughter. He freezes, though his confusion quickly gives way to realization.

You were playing with him.

“I suppose this is some form of revenge,” he hums, shaking his head. It’s surprising it took him so long to catch on. With anyone else, he’d be beyond angry, but your laughter is so bright, so infectious, that he can’t stop the small smile that pulls at his lips. When you finally look up at him, tears glint in the corners of your eyes. Who thought this would amuse you so much?

“You’re jealous! The Sylus is jealous of a little bird. His bird.” You bite down on your lip in an attempt to muffle the giggles that keep coming, but it doesn’t do much to help. It’s just too much for you. You never ever thought you’d see Sylus actually jealous of someone, let alone an animal.

Sylus narrows his eyes, though they glow with a certain fondness. “Such a sadist, sweetie, messing with a man’s heart so lightly.”

“Oh, but your reaction was so adorable,” you sing, reaching up to poke his cheek. He playfully bites at your finger, making you draw it back quickly with another laugh. “Just the fact that you could even think I like Mephisto more than you is so silly. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Hmm, then I’m afraid you’ll just have to prove my silly conclusion wrong, won’t you?” His hands settle on your waist, drawing you closer to the warmth of his body. You oblige him, stretching your arms up and around his neck to draw him down.

“Of course. I can’t have my pretty bird walking around thinking he’s second best,” you tease, fingers curling through his hair. “Even if he has a jealousy prob-”

“Quiet.”

Anything else you say is muffled as Sylus finally kisses you.

Safe to say, after that, you make sure to give Sylus extra attention, especially when Mephisto is around. (Though you do still sneak him treats when Sylus isn’t looking.)

#lads sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads sylus x reader #love and deepspace reader insert #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus x reader #x reader #reader insert #jealousy #love and deepspace sylus

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nezuscribe · 2 years ago

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𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3

jjk masterlist

never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything.

you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights.

his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to.

and he seems to despise you.

you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore.

he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you.

but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back.

you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three.

but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed.

he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything.

after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up.

and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you.

ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans.

you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him.

not that it mattered now.

all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.

you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip.

whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.

any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry.

he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away.

you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else.

“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes.

“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left.

it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer.

sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up.

for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity.

but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from.

“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples.

“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone.

you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged.

he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies.

he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle.

it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak.

“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife.

if only you knew.

“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long.

you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say.

“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you.

“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it.

“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features.

and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show.

“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk).

he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.

“just tell them the truth.”

the truth.

tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up.

tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were.

tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms.

tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms.

tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position.

you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.

“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.”

you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.

the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind.

you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy.

“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him.

you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position.

but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.

“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door.

“i don’t-”

“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway.

you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself.

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected.

you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered.

you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury.

“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.

“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.”

he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside.

“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating.

you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen.

“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate.

“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such?

“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”

gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you.

“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement.

“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”

the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away.

you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking.

“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless.

gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite.

“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic.

“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”

“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.”

you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind.

a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.

“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”

“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly.

“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this.

“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”

your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.

“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it.

“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you.

you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around.

“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile.

“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response.

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!”

a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.

“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.”

you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch.

“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other.

“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh.

“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you.

his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature.

“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded.

you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance.

you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl.

she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions.

she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls.

you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat.

you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you.

you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.

---

gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him.

“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress.

“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down.

you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead.

so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other.

once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo.

you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased.

though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation.

“what you saw last night-”

“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.”

“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either.

“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables.

“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words.

“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.”

you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it.

you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck.

leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you.

you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so.

it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him.

“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door.

your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else.

“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door.

you didn’t answer, still, waiting.

“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door.

“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit.

you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table.

“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.

a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing.

---

gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day.

it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy.

you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time.

when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned.

“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down.

“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks.

“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet.

“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you.

your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis.

you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.

sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders.

myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing.

until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window.

“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.

his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw.

he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance.

“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her.

the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had.

“are you alright?”

you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being.

he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either.

“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly.

“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you.

“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.”

“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you.

“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.”

“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable.

“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”

you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three.

“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure.

“you are my wife-”

“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him.

gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back.

“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man.

“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.

he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint.

he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks.

“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.”

you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self.

“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you.

“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself.

“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint.

he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw.

“what do you mean?”

you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin.

“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”

“letters? what letters?”

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form.

“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”

his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing.

“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.”

the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement.

“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks.

“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.”

you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words.

“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you.

“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations.

“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face, twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-”

“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull.

“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-”

“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.”

you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones.

“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago.

“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.”

a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it.

“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face.

“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself.

“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.”

he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters.

you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided.

it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours.

it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined.

“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love.

“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness.

he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you.

“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder.

“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again.

“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin.

“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name.

“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could.

“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them.

“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did.

“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one.

“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours.

“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago.

“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it.

“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.

“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”

“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips.

you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move.

his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give.

your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch.

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds.

“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin.

“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face.

his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.

“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him.

“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down.

he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this.

but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you.

you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.

he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.

he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping.

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most.

“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.”

he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye.

his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck.

it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be.

his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall.

“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response.

“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more.

his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more.

he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit.

“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision.

you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo.

“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.

“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over.

when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces.

he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest.

“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?”

he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you.

“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.”

you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you.

“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that.

“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.

“and then?”

your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face.

“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs.

“and then?”

“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.”

“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking.

“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain.

“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves.

“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.

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