#I’m done now I just really like this series and I haven’t found anything to fall in love with fictionally that does everything I want it to
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marymjarvis · 1 year ago
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I haven’t fallen in love with fictional characters and the world that they inhabit the way I have with Victoriocity in YEARS. It genuinely makes me feel like a kid again, the way I got when I was reading Harry Potter for the first time and the universe just was slowly unfolding and I wanted to know everything about it outside of the main storyline. And then you have the pitch perfect humor and characters I AM VERY DEEPLY INVESTED IN that are in the most perfect Victorian slow burn of all time where I KNOW SOMETHING IS GOING TO HAPPEN EVENTUALLY BUT ITS GOING TO TAKE YEARS AND ILL BE HANGING ON TO A DARCY HAND FLEX MOMENT FOR DEAR LIFE UNTIL IT DOES, and you got me hook, line and sinker.
But seriously, it’s well written. It engages in some trope but does so in a way that only good writing can where expectation is subverted and then not that that is surprising and delightful, The pacing is excellent. The world they’ve created is completely original but totally familiar which grounds the characters and the plot.
Anyway, I bought three copies of High Vaultage (audio, ebook and special edition hard copy of course), finished it, binged season three and now I need the link to the kickstarter for the next project because I NEED MORE. This is just going to be a fan account until then.
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that-one-girl2020 · 8 days ago
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Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader Pt. 6
A/N: Y’all are not ready for this. And yes, there will be another part after this. I’ve also been getting a few requests for little side skits so I’ll do those as soon as I wrap up the series itself so please be patient with me if I haven’t responded!
I tried really hard on this part so please tell me your thoughts in the comments!
Disclaimer: I don’t any of the songs or anything in this series.
TW: Death, heartbreak, grief, etc. toxic parental figures.
Word Count: 4,987
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 7
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(Reminder: Baby = Jum, Romance = Chungae, Mystery = Hyeon, Abby = Kwan)
The time had come.
The Saja Boys’ final performance.
Just one more performance and then they could spend the rest of their existence with you.
For now, they were on the other side of the crumbling barrier, standing before Gwi Ma as they watched the space fill with people carrying the red glow of their light sticks. You were there too. A succubus among humans, beautiful having fully accepted your demon side. You were quickly coming into your new abilities, having teleported there with them and now floating above the stands, over the heads in the hypnotized crowd directly across from the stage. The best view in the house. Even from there, they could see the warm amber glow of your eyes.
They were worried about you, of course. But selfish beings could only ignore the call of their desired one for so long. You had chosen to join them, to love them. Flaws and all. And that was the sweetest addiction of all. So they would follow wherever you beckoned and they would protect you and love you with the entirety of the wretched tatters that remained of their souls.
Just for you, they had decided to perform this last song in their demon forms, forgoing their human guises.
“Well done. Ready to forget it all?” Gwi Ma’s voice rumbled as he looked hungrily out at the crowd of fans gathering in place for the performance.
Jinu looked over them as well, memories of the moment he left his mother and sister behind flashing in his mind and then Rumi, their moment of peace found within their friendship, and then you. The soft moments together of you two beneath the stars, you sharing modern music with him. Your face in joy. And then your face in despair. The face when you joined them. His expression steeled. He would do this for you. He didn’t care if Gwi Ma went through with the deal or not anymore.
“Good,” Gwi Ma purred. “Glad that girl is useful for something. And she’ll be singing with you, correct? Perfect. I’m ready to feast.”
The Boys grimaced, their fists tightening at the way the tyrant talked about you. But they all agreed on one thing.
They would do this for you. To protect you.
The Saja Boys had tried to change your mind when you said you would be helping with their final performance, it was a huge jump to go from just letting them feed Gwi Ma all these souls, to actively being a part in feeding them to him yourself.
But you had remained stubborn. “I refuse to be a passive supporter any longer. From now on, I’ll make my own path. Even if it leads me to Hell,” You had said with a sweet, content smile. So they agreed. And incorporated you into their performance with the ease of elite professionals.
Derpy the tiger mewled, nudging Jinu’s arm with the bracelet from Rumi offered in his mouth, shaking Jinu from his thoughts. But Jinu hesitated in taking it. Rumi had been his… friend. But he betrayed her. And she had turned her back on you, the girl he had grown to love. Jinu’s fist clenched.
It was an odd feeling, sitting as you floated in the air, the repeated monotonous chanting of ‘Saja. Saja. Saja,’ sounding below you over and over again. And it was strange seeing your reflection whenever you passed it. Your skin had taken on a dark lilac hue, the electric magenta glow of your patterns contrasting sharply. Your eyes glowed an amber, your pupils slit like a cat’s. Your fingers had lengthened, your nails grown into claws, and even your teeth had sharpened. But you kinda liked it. It was badass in a way.
Your mind lingered on them. Mira, Zoey, Celine, and… Rumi. Yes, they had left you. Turned their backs on you. But… you had loved them for so long. For years, they were your entire world, taking care of them and watching them grow. It would be hard to let them go from your heart.
However, that didn’t mean you would save Mira and Zoey from being part of this crowd.
It would be hard to let them go from your heart, but you wouldn’t forgive them.
You perk up when the Saja Boys logo flickers on screen, the image of Jinu’s demon eyes flashing for a brief second before the logo returns, the crowd coming alive with raucous cheers as a haunting tune begins, the boys rising to the stage. The boys floated, solemn looks on their faces as the song began. You were immediately enraptured just by the presence of them.
“I'll be your idol~”
The boys burst into motion, landing on the stage with their movements hypnotizing and magnetic.
“Keeping you in check (Uh), keeping you obsessed (Uh)~ Play me on repeat, endlessly in your head~ Anytime it hurts (Uh), play another verse (Uh)~ I can be your sanctuary~” Kwan opened strongly, drawing the crowd in with his movements and his charm easily. His eyes were on your figure floating above though, peering up at you from below the brim of his hat.
“Know I'm the only one right now (Now)~ I will love you more when it all burns down~ More than power, more than gold (Yeah)~ Yeah, you gave me your heart, now I'm hеre for your soul~” Chungae and Hyeon joined in, putting their all in this performance because you were watching. Their first and last performance with you. But, hopefully, not the last time they would sing with you.
You were so drawn in that you couldn’t even sway along to the song. You knew this song was meant to gather souls for Gwi Ma, layered with layer after layer of demon charm and hypnotism. But, it feels like they’re singing just for you.
“I'm the only one who'll lovе your sins~ Feel the way my voice gets underneath your skin~”
Maybe it's because they are.
“Listen 'cause I'm preachin' to the choir~ Can I get the mic a little higher?~ Gimme your desire~ I can be the star you rely on (You rely on)~ You're lost in my daze, yeah, you can't look away (Hey)~ Don't you know I'm here to save you~ Now we runnin' wild~ Yeah, I'm all you need, I'ma be your idol~”
The boys’ eyes glowed at you as they danced and sang. Their focus was on you the whole time. This last song was for you, not a message directly to you, but it was all for you. You were entranced, not by their demonic charm and hypnotism, but by them. The way they moved, the way their expressions drew you in.
The boys teleported in a burst of demon magic, reappearing in different places on the stage walkway. Gwi Ma appeared behind them, beginning to come through the barrier.
“Uh, shining with my fame, keep on shout my name, I'm your idol~ Thank you for the pain 'cause it got me going viral~ Uh, yeah, endless is my fever, makin' you a believer~ I was born for you, only your idol~” Jum rapped to the crowd of charmed fans, but his thoughts were completely on you. He couldn’t help but love performing, something he hadn’t expected when Jinu came to him with his plan. But it led him to all these new experiences and it led him to you. These words were meant for the fans but this performance was for you. Gwi Ma’s fires flared around them as more and more of him came through until he fully manifested behind them.
“Don't let it show, keep it all inside~ The pain and the shame, keep it outta sight~ Your obsession feeds our connection~ So right now give me all your attention~”
Then the lights of the stage and the light sticks went out, even the screen with the Saja Boys’ logo on it. The only light being the fires of Gwi Ma. The song abruptly cut off with a glitch effect. And then a new song sounded.
Your cue.
You teleported on stage as the first line of the song left your lips in a haunting melody, your voice enhanced by the demon charm you layered over it.
“Insane, inside~ The danger gets me high~ Can't help myself~ Got secrets I can't tell~” The boys teleported around you, moving and sweeping around you in a circle as you sang, striding forward towards the crowd with confidence you didn’t know you had. The crowd was cheering even more enthusiastically at the surprise voice of a female voice, one they had never heard before.
“I love the smell of gasoline~ I light the match to taste the heat~” The six of you spread out to different points of the stage, reaching enticingly to the crowd with sweet smiles.
“I've always liked to play with fire~”
As the beat dropped, it shifted back to ‘Your Idol’ but you sang with the boys this time as you all beckoned the crowd forward.
“Living in your mind now~ Too late ‘cause you’re mine now~ I will make you free~ When you’re all a part of me~”
The six of you teleported back onto the stage. You floated up first, the boys following you up as you harmonized with the boys. Looking down, it was a crowd of faceless figures bathed in red, drawn in by Gwi Ma’s flames and you guess… yours and the boy’s demonic powers. Why was it so easy? These people were mindlessly marching to their deaths and you couldn’t find yourself feeling terribly guilty. Maybe later you will, when the hurt and the anger at them will fade, but right now? Your heart was cold to these people.
“(Listen 'cause I'm) Preaching to the choir~ (Now) Can I get the mic a little higher? (Play with fire)~ Gimme your desire~ Watch me set your world on fire (Play with fire)~ You're lost in my daze, yeah, you can't look away (Hey)~ No one is coming to save you~ Now we runnin' wild~ You're down on your knees, I'ma be your idol (Play with fire)~”
Everyone stopped. You, the boys, the people all stopped as the music cut out and the sound of a voice came from the back entrance to the stands. The crowd began to part.
“We are Hunters. Voices strong.” You frowned as Rumi came into view. The boys and you slowly descended, landing on the stage with Gwi Ma at your backs. The boys closed ranks around you, protective of you and weary of the demon Huntress. You narrowed your eyes at Rumi, scanning over her form. She looked just as bad as when you had last seen her but her face was blank, numb.
“Slaying demons with our song. Fix the world and make it right. When darkness finally meets the light.”
“You come here like this?” Gwi Ma mockingly questioned your sister. “You think you can fix the world? You can’t even fix yourself.”
“I can’t.”
“And now everyone finally sees you for what you really are.”
“They do.”
“And the Honmoon. Is. Gone.”
“It is.” Even from all the way up on the stage, you could see Rumi’s eyes change as she looked up at Gwi Ma sharply, her amber eye disappearing. “So that we can make a new one.”
~~~
Rumi had many regrets in her life.
She wasn’t perfect, she always knew that. But the golden image of perfection in her mind that she had always strived for was nothing but a pretty illusion. And when the illusion broke, she had hurt you. You, her precious twin sister. The sister that all she wanted to do was protect.
After her talk with Celine, Rumi had to face the hard truth that Celine had poisoned their minds. You and her used to be so close but when did that stop? She had to ask herself what happened to the times when you would laugh together over the stupidest little things? The times you would try to cook together only to end up chasing each other around the kitchen with food stained hands? The times when your giggles would fill the grassy clearing in the forest, your secret spot just between the two of you?
And Rumi knew it was her fault. She didn’t protect you like she should’ve, protected you from Celine’s harsh demands and her shoving the two of you into too tight molds of their parents.
And now there you were. The image of their father come to life, standing before Gwi Ma, your back to his flames as the Saja Boys stood on guard in front of you. You looked demonic, with dark lilac skin, clawed hands, black clothing, and the glowing amber eyes she could see from there. But you were beautiful. You were standing with a confidence she had never seen in you—or perhaps never noticed you had. And you had sung. She hasn’t heard you sing in years and she didn’t realize how much she missed it until she heard your voice again.
Rumi swore she would protect you. She had already broken that promise. But she would hold what remains of that promise in her weary hands with all her strength.
Although, first? She would need her girls.
“Nothing but the truth now~ Nothing but the proof of what I am~ The worst of what I came from, patterns I'm ashamed of~ Things that even I don't understand~ I tried to fix it, I tried to fight it~ My head was twisted, my heart divided~ My lies all collided~ I don't know why I didn't trust you to be on my side~”
You watched blankly as Rumi walked forward, her patterns beginning to glow in a rainbow iridescence as it spread up her legs and to her arms and face. You couldn’t help but think it was just like Rumi for her to take her flaws and make them pretty.
Looking to each side of the arena, you could see Mira and Zoey making their ways down to the stage, their chests glowing blue faintly. It seemed like Rumi’s voice had reached them. ‘It was a song for them, after all,’ you couldn’t help but think bitterly, your fist clenching.
“I broke into a million pieces, and I can't go back~ But now I'm seeing all the beauty in the broken glass~ The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony~ My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like~”
Zoey joined the song as she reached the stage, “Why did I cover up the colors stuck inside my head?~”
Mira reached the stage as well. “I should've let the jagged edges meet the light instead~”
Together, they sang their song of hope, “Show me what's underneath, I'll find your harmony~ The song we couldn't write, this is what it sounds like~”
The three were glowing. This must be what it looks like for their souls to connect to their song. You had never seen it before.
But Gwi Ma had.
“Stop this song!” He roared behind you. He summoned a hoard of demons, flooding the stage in three directions as they charged at the girls to try and keep them from singing.
You knew the power of the girls and their voices. You knew as soon as Rumi started singing that this was a losing battle. Which meant that they would more than likely end up killing you here, with the boys…
“We're shattering the silence, we're rising defiant~ Shouting in the quiet, you're not alone~ We listened to the demons, we let them get between us~ But none of us are out here on our own~ So, we were cowards, so, we were liars~ So, we're not heroes, we're still survivors~ The dreamers, the fighters, no lying, I'm tired~ But dive in the fire and I'll be right here by your side~”
The girls embraced as they finally reunited after getting through the hoards trying to keep them apart. It sent a wave of light out over the crowd, beginning to form a new Honmoon as Mira and Zoey’s once black accents on their outfit turned to pure white. You couldn’t help but feel bitter. Rumi had come for Mira and Zoey. And the lyrics they were singing? It felt like a kick in the chest.
But they were right in a way. You weren’t alone. You had the boys. Rumi and you were both exactly where you belong at that moment.
“We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back~ But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass~ The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony~ My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like~”
The girls turned and marched steadily towards you and the boys. A shiver of fear went up your spine, waiting for them to summon their weapons so they could kill you and the boys. But they didn’t.
‘I’m sorry, (Y/n). Please. Hear me,’ Rumi mentally pleaded, her eyes on yours as she marched towards you, Zoey and Mira at her sides.
‘Please come back to us, (Y/n). I’m so sorry we… I didn’t stand with you,’ Zoey smiled at you, soft and apologetic. The pit of guilt in her stomach that had formed as soon as she had chosen to follow Mira instead of trying to listen to you pulsing in her chest alongside her soul.
‘It’ll be hard but… we love you. Please come back,’ Mira marched with determination. ‘They’ll share the patterns together.’ The iridescent patterns on their purified clothes glimmered in the light the same as Rumi’s.
‘Protect (Y/n),’ was the only thought in the Boys’ heads. They couldn’t shake the memory of you crying in their arms. You had said that they threatened to kill you if they saw you again. Their hearts shuddered in their chest at the thought of you dying with them. No. They refused to let it happen, they promised you that they wouldn’t leave you and they promised themselves that they would protect you.
Kwan, Jum, Chungae, and Hyeon charged forward, leaving Jinu with you to stay back and protect you as they faced the girls who summoned their weapons.
“Why did we cover up the colors stuck inside our head?~ Get up and let the jagged edges meet the light instead~ Show me what's underneath, I'll find your harmony~ Fearless and undefined, this is what it sounds like~”
Despite Rumi’s determination to reach you, Gwi Ma interrupted her, summoning the horde of demons back to him to boost his power as he grew in size, gaining enough energy to manifest more of his features. It startled the girls, distracting them as they held Hyeon, Chungae, Kwan, and Jum back.
“Your voices cannot defeat ME!”
Gwi Ma roared, sending a blast of power from his mouth at Rumi. Your eyes widened as Rumi stumbled under the force of Gwi Ma’s blast, straining under the weight on her sword. Mira and Zoey cried out for her but couldn’t reach her as the Boys held them back.
Your heart was pounding as Rumi screamed, trying to muster all the strength she could to hold Gwi Ma back. But she could only buckle under the force, falling to her knee. You unconsciously took a step forward. Would you really be able to watch your sister die?
‘Why?’ Rumi questioned herself. ‘Why am I never strong enough?!’
She stumbled when the force against her sword suddenly disappeared. She blinked, looking up.
‘No…’
Your human eyes looked back at her.
You hadn’t even registered moving. You couldn’t even remember if you had teleported or used your demon abilities to fly. But it didn’t matter. You were there now, holding back Gwi Ma’s power with your own body. Protecting Rumi.
“(Y/n), no…” Rumi’s voice cracked as she stood, her hands hovering uselessly by your shoulders. ‘What could she do? Why wasn’t there anything she could do?!’
‘Guess old habits die hard…’ You thought to yourself. You smiled sadly at your sister as her eyes welled with tears, despair in her eyes. But also guilt and regret.
“I’m still angry at you, y’know,” You told her softly.
“I know. I know…” Rumi cried, her voice wobbling. “I’m so sorry, (Y/n), I never should have turned my back on you. I never should have left you behind! I just… I wanted to protect you…”
“I know. I wanted to protect you too,” You told her. You could feel your skin flaking away into ash, the heat of Gwi Ma’s power eating through you slowly and yet all at once. It hurt. But you still had things you needed to say. “I’m still angry at you, but I’ll always love you, Rumi. After all, you’re the other half of my soul, remember?”
Yeah. She did remember. She closed her eyes, pressing your foreheads together as she remembered. Her tears wet your faces as she felt you fading away.
When the two of you were little, you would dance in by the ancient tree. Perfectly in sync with childish giggles in the air and happiness in your souls.
“You’ll always be the other half of my soul, (Y/n),” She had promised.
“And you’ll always be the other half of mine, Rumi!”
Nights spent under the stars, trying to find shapes and wishing on the shooting stars that streaked across the night. Celine would come scold the both of you for staying up so late but the two of you hadn’t cared.
“We are Hunters, voices strong~ Slaying demons with our song~ Save the world and make it right~ When darkness finally meets the light~” The two of you would sing together, your voices fading together.
She remembered when you had proudly showed her your first attempts at writing a song. The two of you had spent a week finishing it together to show Celine, who had politely clapped over it before dismissing you.
You at her side when the two of you first met Mira and Zoey.
You staying up for several nights in a row just to get their debut outfits just right, making sure every detail matched their personalities, were comfortable for them to wear, made them feel confident and strong.
You in the wings with Bobby or backstage during every single one of their performances.
You cooking their favorite foods for their birthdays, making sure to make the cake their favorite flavor from scratch.
You helping them to their beds when they spent hours into the night working on a song when inspiration struck.
Your voice when you were happy, when you were frustrated, when you were giddy, when you were tired, when you were comforting her.
“You’re gonna do great. You’ve got this.”
Your face when she had hit you and then left you behind without a second glance, numb to your cries.
Your smile.
Your laugh.
Your anger.
Your joy.
You.
And then you disappeared beneath her touch and all that was left was your soul. Rumi choked back sobs as the orb circled around her, humming in a way that reminded her of childish giggles and little voices singing in a clearing. “I love you too…” She wanted to fall to her knees right there and start sobbing, grieving her sister. But she couldn’t because she wouldn’t let your death… be in vain.
Rumi summoned her sword but it was different this time, heavier and yet lighter all at once. It was bigger than it had been and she could feel your soul humming through it. The two of you were always stronger together, that’s how it was meant to be…
The Saja Boys’ chest felt like a gaping maw as Gwi Ma roared, Rumi cutting through him with your sword. This was unlike any pain they had ever felt before in their centuries of existing. Were they even still alive? Was this death? Was this agony? Was this hell?
Jinu fell to his knees, his hand falling from its raised position, kneeling defeatedly halfway between Gwi Ma and where you had once stood. Biting his lip, not caring as it began to bleed, tears welling in his eyes.
Chungae stumbled, his hands to his chest as if he was trying to hold his heart together without all the pieces. His mouth was agape as if a name stood on the tip of his tongue but his lungs couldn’t give them the air to cry out.
Hyeon stood frozen, his arms limp at his sides. He stood like a gaping wound, succumbing to its fatalities. He was open and vulnerable to an attack but he didn’t care. He stood like a puppet waiting for its strings to be cut. Giving up on living.
Jum took a staggering step toward where you once stood and faltered. He didn’t want to believe his eyes, wanting to go to that spot right there to make sure you weren’t really gone. But he didn’t want to see if you really were either. A single tear trailed down his cheek, leading the way for the others to follow.
Kwan faltered, tripping over his feet and landing on the ground. He pulled his fist back and struck the stage with all his strength, leaving a small crater where he hit but the pain was nothing in comparison to the pain in his chest. He hadn’t been fast enough to help you. Stuck in a stalemate with one of the Hunters, neither letting the other get away from the fight. He cursed as he lowered his head.
Mira shuddered, turning her head away to swallow back her grief. She cursed fate for never letting her have the family she wanted. For letting her build this little family with her own two hands only to keep taking pieces away from her. You were her sister. There would be time for grief later.
Zoey’s arms went limp by her sides, the grip on her knives slackening until they faded away in her shock. She couldn’t process what had just happened. They were going to save you. They were going to apologize and talk it out so everything would eventually be okay again. She wanted to give up. Go back to the days where you would listen to her lyric ideas, always listening to every line no matter how odd or strange. Please.
The Saja Boys and the girls were almost swallowed whole by grief and despair. But the girls still had a job to do.
Mira and Zoey turned to the boys, their glares watery as they readied their weapons. They were intent on finishing their fights quickly so they could go support Rumi.
The boys looked at each other.
They would follow where you beckoned.
The girls were shocked when the boys made no move to attack them. Instead, they seemed to… surrender. Their heads bowed and they closed their eyes. Maybe it was their grief, their heart’s having broken, or their love for you, but… Before the girl’s eyes, the boys began fading away into ash.
One by one, they faded away with acceptance. They faded until all that was left was five aching souls, battered and broken, but whole. And they followed where you led. They danced around Mira and Zoey who watched in shock as the souls raced toward Rumi to circle around her sword trailing behind her.
Their souls led the way as the crowd joined in their song of hope and acceptance, their souls empowering the girls as they raced after Rumi, letting them run faster and faster than they ever had before as all the colors of the rainbow danced around them. The power of all the souls connecting with them were enough to lift the girls off their feet as they continued the song with determination.
“We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back~ But now I'm seeing all the beauty in the broken glass~ The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony~ My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like~ Why did we cover up the colors stuck inside our head?~ Get up and let the jagged edges meet the light instead~ Show me what's underneath, I'll find your harmony~ Fearless and undefined, this is what it sounds like~”
The girls came together before Gwi Ma, soul energy dancing around them endlessly as Rumi held your sword out and the girls held the offered hilt together. They could feel your soul humming through them, and they closed their eyes. They felt all the souls connecting with their song, connecting with each other and with a flare of light, Gwi Ma was banished and the rainbow Honmoon was sealed.
“My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like~ Fearless and undefined, this is what it sounds like~ Truth after all this time, our voices all combined~ When darkness meets the light, this is what it sounds like~”
The girls looked out over the world that they had saved. That you had saved. The crowd was cheering, the sky was clear and bright as the rising sun finally shone over them. The rainbow Honmoon pulsed with power. They descended, gently landing on stage. Mira and Zoey released the hilt of your sword, letting Rumi hold the sword gently by its hilt and the blade. She could see her tearful eyes reflecting back at her as her grief filled her heart. For a moment as the sun glinted across the blade, she thought she saw your human eyes reflected back at her, surrounded by five other pairs of eyes.
She held the sword close to her chest, falling to her knees before the crowd of cheering fans who were none-the-wiser. The fight was over.
And you were still gone.
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Outtakes:
You: *Looking at your new demon form* “Wow. How snazzy.”
The Saja Boys: *Drooling over you* “Yeah…”
You: “Why don’t you just make another hat for Derpy so he and Sussie can match?”
Jinu: *Shook like you just gave him the answers to the universe*
Rumi: “(Y/n)! I’m here to protect you!”
The Saja Boys: “Thank you for your services, but you are no longer needed.”
The Saja Boys: “We have only known (Y/n) for a day but if anything happened to her, we would kill everyone in this room and then ourselves.
*Five parts later*
The Saja Boys: “…”
Let me know if you have ideas for outtakes or side skits! And think about checking out the playlist I made for this little series!
Tag list: @brights-place @itmechaosartist @reni502 @chin-chii @cultish-corner @enerofairy @mama-m1na @akariis4snowball @gremlinartstudio @shynotded @shadowmoonlight0604 @omgsuperstarg @neigesprincess @sleep-7372 @hurts-my-brain @kiwibackie @gh0stied3ath @naysha140 @theferretkids @lelantyuu @sexyindependentdowntospendit @hornehlittleweeblet2 @moonymoo1 @moochiwoochi @cheolright @crescent-z @prorpy @mey-archive @cami1qx @nerdalicios @xxsadlovexx @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @blackheart34 @anonymousewrites @scarletrosesposts @justanindiangirl12 @beexboo @tatsuri-zomushiki @call-me-nyxx @queenofviolenceandnerds @randomfan218-blog @jaybbygrl @unholycheesesnack @ocean-mochi @iviorienne @confusedparticle @otakusimp1 @nosbaby07 @fries11 @ri-eveowe @1950schick @libdarkheart @yourjustassaneasiamx @the-bookish-artist @anduinandwrathionlover @eternallyrosyfire @lysira340 @lansy-4 @strayharmony943 @maximumtrashchild @bleufu1 @minepugs @valeriele3 @arieslucy @nisarelle @suzieq1948374 @esposamultifandom
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buckysleftbicep · 18 days ago
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for better or for worse (7) 𐙚 b.b
pairing: new avenger!bucky barnes x fem!reader (fake marriage au)
warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors, dni, heavy angst, bucky breaking down, flashbacks, fluff if you squint
summary: you and bucky are forced to play newlyweds at a luxury honeymoon resort. he’s controlling, you’re reckless, and now you’re sharing a bed. the problem? it’s getting harder to play pretend. and you’re not sure either of you will survive what comes next.
word count: 6k
author's note: hi sweethearts! wow, i actually finished this series! thank you all so, so much for your love and support, gosh, it means the world to me, and if i could thank you guys with a huge hug, i would 💓. this series means a lot to me, i have so many different ways to end it, i think i had 3, and this is one of them 🫶🏻 thank you all so much for staying and for finishing this series with me 💌 love you guys and stay safe out there!
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The hospital room was quiet, save for the soft, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and the occasional hiss of the oxygen line. Pale morning light filtered through the half-drawn blinds, slicing the space into uneven golden strips that barely touched the corners.
The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and wilted flowers, a bouquet someone had left two days ago already beginning to droop in its plastic vase.
The door creaked open without ceremony.
Yelena stepped in, her hair a little messier than usual and two steaming cups of coffee in hand.
She looked like she hadn’t slept in a couple of days either—the kind of exhaustion that sat behind the eyes, silent and weighty—but she carried it better than most. She always did.
She didn’t say anything at first, just walked in slowly, boots soft against the linoleum, eyes flicking toward the only occupied bed.
Bucky was already awake.
Curled awkwardly in a too-small hospital-issued foldable cot, the sheet tangled around his legs like it had been kicked off in a restless sleep. If you could even call it that.
He sat hunched forward, forearms resting on his knees, head bowed as his fingers toyed with the worn edge of a medical bracelet still looped around his wrist from when he’d refused to leave the ER that night.
He looked up when he heard her—or maybe just sensed her presence—and Yelena caught the full brunt of what the last five days had done to him.
His eyes were bruised with fatigue, red-rimmed and glassy. The stubble across his jaw had darkened into something more permanent. His hair was a mess—not the charming, tousled kind, but the kind born of sleepless nights and fingers dragged through it too many times out of pure frustration.
The navy blue t-shirt clung to his frame like it had been slept in. The sweatpants sagged slightly at the hips. He didn’t look like a soldier, he looked like a man desperately holding himself together by a thread.
“We found him,” Yelena said softly, breaking the silence as she approached. “Raskovic.”
Bucky didn’t react right away. Just blinked up at her, like he had to translate the words in his head before they could settle.
“And?” His voice was low, rough—not from sleep, but from disuse.
She sighed, offering him one of the coffees. “We haven’t gotten much. He’s not talking. Won’t give up the rest of the weapons cache.”
He took the cup without meeting her eyes, fingers curling tightly around the warmth like it was the only thing grounding him. He didn’t drink it, didn’t speak. Just let the silence fall again, heavier this time.
Yelena studied him for a moment—really studied him.
The way he hadn’t moved from that chair for nearly five days.
The way the cot hadn’t even been laid flat most nights.
The way he looked at you every hour, on the hour, as if just by watching hard enough, he could will your eyes to open.
“You should rest,” she said gently, crouching beside him. “Bucky… it’s been five days. You need to—”
“No.” He cut her off, firm but not sharp. Just final. Like the decision had already been carved into stone. “I’m staying. The doctors said… they said she could wake up any moment.” His voice cracked, just slightly. “I need to be the first face she sees.”
Yelena swallowed. There wasn’t anything she could say to that.
Not really.
Not when she’d watched him refuse to leave even once, not even to shower. Not when John, Alexei, and even Bob had tried every tactic short of physically dragging him out, and still—still—he hadn’t budged. 
He’d brushed his teeth in the tiny public restroom by the elevators. Bought protein bars and shitty vending machine sandwiches. Sat by your bed, hour after hour, whispering things he didn’t think anyone could hear.
There was nothing she could say. So she just nodded, gently, and gave his shoulder a squeeze.
The door clicked shut behind Yelena, leaving the room in its usual hush—the kind of quiet that wrapped itself around your throat and refused to let go. Too still. Too loud. The kind of silence that didn’t soothe, but suffocated. 
Outside, the world was slowly waking—nurses exchanging shifts, machines humming behind closed doors—but in here, time had collapsed into a slow, dragging ache.
The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, sterile and cold, casting a pale sheen over the metal railings and tile floor. Even they seemed to dim beneath the heaviness in the air. Like the room itself knew how close it had come to losing you.
Bucky turned toward you.
He moved like it hurt. Like his limbs had forgotten how to function under the weight of what they’d carried for the last five days. His gaze dropped to your hand—pale and unmoving, the skin bruised beneath the tape and gauze, fingers limp where they lay curled near your hip. 
The IV line trailed upward to the bag above your head, slow and methodical, like it had all the time in the world.
But he didn’t.
The sheet had been drawn neatly to your waist, the corners folded with practiced care. But Bucky had seen beneath it. He’d memorised the cuts, the dressings, the angry bruises blooming along your ribs.
He’d scrubbed your blood from his hands in the emergency room sink, over and over, until they were raw. Until there was nothing left but the ghost of your voice in his head.
He reached out—slowly, carefully, like one wrong move might shatter you all over again—and wrapped his fingers around yours.
The contrast was stark: his calloused, battered hands, and yours, soft and still. He held on like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the present.
“Sweetheart,” he breathed, his voice barely there—cracked and raw, like it had been scraped against too many sleepless nights. “I know you can hear me. Please…”
His eyes squeezed shut as he leaned forward, letting his forehead rest against the back of your hand. The contact was fragile, gentle. His breath hitched against your skin.
“Please wake up,” he whispered.
It wasn’t just a plea.
It was a surrender.
The words hung in the air, splintered and fraying at the edges—the way a man breaks when there’s no one left to see it. When the fight runs out, and all that’s left is the ache.
His lips brushed your knuckles, soft and lingering, like he could pour everything he hadn’t said into that single touch. Like if he kissed you gently enough, it might undo what the world had done to you.
His hand trembled around yours, chest rising in short, unsteady bursts. He’d spent the last five days holding it together—barely—and the cracks were beginning to show.
A single tear slid down his cheek, tracing the edge of his jaw like it had every right to be there.
“Don’t go breaking my heart now, doll,” he whispered.
And it wasn’t just tenderness in his voice. It was fear. Bone-deep, marrow-carving fear.
Because Bucky Barnes had spent the last five days living in a world where nothing he did was enough—where holding your hand, begging, waiting, breaking, hadn’t been enough to undo the sight of you going still in his arms. Of blood on concrete. Of your eyes fluttering closed while he screamed.
He had faced war, torture, brainwashing—hell itself—and nothing had ever scared him like this.
He didn’t know how to live in a world where you didn’t come back.
He didn’t want to.
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The memory came like a tide—slow and gentle—washing over Bucky where he sat now, curled at your bedside, hand still laced with yours.
It had been quiet then, too. Not like the sterile hush of a hospital, but something warm. Alive. The kind of quiet that settled into your bones without asking permission, that made everything else—pain, history, guilt—feel far away for just a moment.
The dock creaked beneath his feet as Sam’s boat rocked gently with the tide, tethered but still breathing with the water. The sky had melted into soft amber, streaks of orange and pink dripping into the still, dark ocean like brushstrokes on silk. 
The air was thick with the scent of salt and sugar—someone onshore frying something sweet, maybe beignets or funnel cake—and the breeze tasted like summer. Warm, lazy, golden. 
Somewhere behind him, Sam and Sarah laughed over an engine that refused to start, and AJ’s voice rang out, high and playful, a child’s joy unburdened by the weight of the world.
The sounds of a family.
You sat beside him on the edge of the boat’s stairs, knees pulled up, paper plate balanced in your lap. The hem of your shirt fluttered in the breeze. Your bare feet tapped gently against the wood, relaxed, alive. Like you belonged there.
You nudged the plate toward him without looking.
“Cake,” you said simply.
He took it from you, fingers brushing yours—a soft, accidental touch that lingered longer than it should’ve. He muttered a quiet, almost bashful, “Thanks,” eyes still cast toward the horizon.
But he didn’t eat it. Just sat there, the plate warm in his lap, staring out like the ocean might give him an answer if he looked long enough. The world had gone quiet in his chest for the first time in days, and it scared him more than he let on.
Peace wasn’t something he knew how to hold. Not really.
Then, quietly—almost as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud—“You think I deserve this?”
You turned to him, brows drawing in slightly. “Deserve what?”
His eyes were still on the water, unmoving. But his voice—that voice—was steady. Careful.
“Peace.”
It was such a simple word. But the weight it carried in his mouth was enormous. Like it didn’t belong to him. Like saying it out loud might make it vanish. Like wanting peace made him weak.
You didn’t speak right away.
Just watched him in the dying light—how it hit the high points of his face, turned his lashes gold, softened the lines etched deep into his forehead. How his jaw clenched, how his shoulders never fully relaxed.
There was a quiet awe to him then, even in stillness. Even in pain. Like he didn’t know what to do with a moment that didn’t come with gunfire or consequences.
You smiled, slow and sad. “You do, James.”
He looked at you then—really looked—and it almost hurt, the way your voice curled around his name like it was something worth holding.
“After everything,” you went on gently, “you deserve so much more than what the world gave you.”
His jaw tensed, fingers curling slightly around the paper plate, untouched cake still resting there. Like he needed to hold onto something just to stay grounded.
“But there’s so many people I—” he started, voice strained, barely above a whisper.
You didn’t let him finish.
Your hand found his, warm and certain, sliding over his knuckles like an anchor. You didn’t grip too hard. You didn’t need to.
“It wasn’t you,” you said. “You never had a choice. None of it was your fault.”
The wind tugged at your hair. The sky kept burning gold. Somewhere in the distance, a bell rang from a ship docking further down the bay.
But here, on the steps of Sam’s old boat, time had frozen—like the world was giving him permission to stop running. Just for a second.
And for the first time in a very long time, something shifted in him.
Something cracked open. A softness he hadn’t known how to hold. A thought he hadn’t dared entertain—that maybe he could want something. Someone.
That maybe he didn’t have to be alone.
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The memory faded, slow and reluctant, like a sunset slipping beneath the water. And when it was gone, Bucky was still there—seated at your bedside in the dim hush of the hospital room, your hand in his, the air too still.
The beeping of the monitor was steady, but too steady. Not fast enough to mean you were waking. Not flat enough to mean you were gone.
That in-between rhythm—it was driving him insane. Mocking him. Reminding him that you were here but not really. Close, but still too far.
He looked at you like he was trying to memorise everything all over again. Your lashes against your cheek. The way the corner of your mouth dipped slightly, always slightly, when you slept. The small, near-faded scar on your temple from a mission gone wrong in Marrakesh. Every inch of you mapped onto him like a language only he could read.
And still… nothing.
His throat bobbed as he swallowed, thick and tight. He hadn’t spoken in a while—not really. Not since Yelena left, not since the memory of your voice had come back to him, soft and alive and warm in the golden light. 
Now it felt like if he opened his mouth, the entire dam might break.
So when he finally did, it came out hoarse. Barely a whisper.
“Please don’t take her away from me.”
It cracked in the middle, fractured down the middle of his chest like a fault line giving way.
“Please,” he said again, quieter now. “I don’t care about anything else.”
His eyes stayed on you, like he was afraid you might vanish if he blinked. His fingers tightened faintly around yours.
“Just…” he breathed, voice shaking, “just let her stay. I-I’ll do anything.”
He wasn’t praying. Not really, no, Bucky didn’t believe in that anymore. Hadn’t in decades. Maybe never did. 
But he said it anyway—like if he could just get the words out, the universe might hear him.
Might show him mercy, just this once.
Might understand that you were the only good thing left in him.
That without you, everything else didn’t matter.
That if he lost you, there would be nothing left to come back to.
And so he sat there, forehead pressed to your hand again, tears slipping quietly down his face—no sobbing, no shaking, just the steady, exhausted grief of a man begging the world not to take the one person he didn’t know how to live without.
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The first thing you registered was the light—too bright, too sharp, cutting through the darkness behind your eyelids like glass.
You blinked, once, twice, and the world came back slowly. Fuzzy around the edges.
The air felt sterile and cold, too clean. The scent of antiseptic curled at the edge of your senses, familiar in a way that made your stomach twist.
Then came the pain.
A dull, biting throb that pulsed hot through your leg—enough to steal the breath from your lungs. You winced, the movement sending a shock up your thigh. Your body felt heavy, as if the last week had settled into your bones like lead. It took effort to tilt your head, but you did, wincing as your vision swam.
And then you saw him.
Bucky was slumped beside you in a narrow hospital chair, legs sprawled out awkwardly, one arm still draped across the edge of your bed. His fingers were locked around yours—loosely, like he’d fallen asleep holding on and never let go.
His head was bowed, chin resting against his chest, and for a split second you thought he might have finally passed out from exhaustion. His hair was a mess, strands flattened on one side, sticking up on the other.
There were shadows under his eyes so deep they looked like bruises. His jaw was rough with days-old stubble, his shirt wrinkled and clinging to him in tired lines.
He looked wrecked.
But beautiful.
In that devastating, unguarded way he never let you see when he was awake. Like every sharp edge had been sanded down by worry, like grief had made room for something gentler.
Your chest tightened.
And just like that, it all came rushing back—the warehouse, the blood, the sting of your own scream. The panic in his voice when he found you. The way he’d cradled you against his chest, whispering your name like he could pull you back to the earth with nothing but his breath.
You stared at him now, barely breathing.
Because for all the bruises, for all the exhaustion written into every line of his body, he was still here.
Still holding on.
Like he’d never stopped.
You blinked hard against the prick of tears and let your fingers shift, just slightly, in his hand.
A small squeeze. Barely there.
But it was enough.
He stirred beside you, slow and groggy, like the weight of the last five days was still holding him under.
At first, he didn’t move. Just shifted slightly in the chair, the hand around yours twitching like his body already knew something had changed. Then his head lifted, eyes blinking open, blearily searching the room in that half-conscious fog where dreams hadn’t quite let go yet.
And then he saw you.
Really saw you—awake, breathing, eyes on him.
His breath caught in his throat. His entire body froze.
“Hey,” you whispered, voice rough and thin, barely more than air.
For a second, he didn’t speak. Couldn’t. The emotion hit too fast—like it had been waiting just behind his ribs for this exact second to shatter him. His lips parted, a breath escaped, and then—
“Sweetheart.”
It came out like a promise. Like a prayer finally answered. He moved forward, hand cradling your face, thumb trembling where it brushed beneath your eye, over your cheek, as if he needed to touch every inch of you to believe this was real.
You could feel him shaking.
Not violently. Just enough to know that this had broken him in ways you hadn’t seen. That he had fallen apart in the quiet, in the waiting. And now that you were back, he didn’t know how to hold all of it.
His thumb traced down your jaw, reverent. Like you were something fragile, something rare.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, voice raw. He didn’t let go of your face.
You swallowed, the ache still sharp in your throat. Everything still hur—your leg, your ribs, your eyes—but somehow, right now, it didn’t matter.
You mustered a small, crooked smile. “Think I’m okay. Didn’t Steve used to say ‘break a leg’ before missions?”
Bucky huffed a laugh, a sound that cracked as much as it warmed. His eyes shone—too glassy, too full—but he let the joke carry him for a second. Let it be a tether.
He shook his head, the corners of his mouth lifting in something soft, something cracked wide open.
“You’re unbelievable,” he murmured, pressing his forehead gently to yours.
And for the first time in days, he allowed himself to finally breathe easy.
His forehead was still resting against yours when the silence stretched again—not heavy this time, but fragile. Like something delicate was settling between you, something you both felt but hadn’t dared speak aloud.
It trembled between your shared breath, suspended in that sliver of space where everything had changed and nothing had yet been said.
Bucky pulled back just enough to see your face, his hand still cupping your cheek like he couldn’t bring himself to let go—like if he did, you might disappear again, slip through his fingers like smoke.
“I was scared,” he said quietly, his voice low and stripped raw. “That I’d lose you.”
The confession wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. But it cracked something open between you, split wide and aching. His voice held no armor. No deflection. Just truth—and the unbearable weight of it.
You opened your mouth, not to argue, not really. But he shook his head once, gently, eyes never leaving yours.
“Let me finish.”
His chest rose, then fell—one deep breath, then another, like he was trying to steady himself before the dam broke. Like every word cost him something he’d never learned how to give.
“I know I’m not easy,” he began. “I’m rigid. Controlling. I hold onto things too tight, like if I let go, everything might fall apart. I ruin things before I ever deserve them. Before I even let myself hope.”
He blinked down at you, and his expression was ruined—not because he was falling apart, but because he was letting you see it.
Every crack. Every fear. Every piece of him that had been stitched together over years of surviving, now trembling in the quiet between you. 
He wasn’t hiding behind protocol or mission strategy or the weight of being Bucky Barnes. Not here. Not now.
“But you…”
His voice caught, just for a moment. He swallowed hard and tried again, slower, like the words had to be dug up from somewhere deep.
“You changed everything. And I didn’t see it at first. Or maybe I didn’t want to. But somewhere along the way, I stopped pretending. I stopped keeping you at arm’s length. And now—” his thumb brushed your cheek again, barely there, “now I can’t imagine anything without you in it.”
He paused, breath uneven, like he was standing in front of a door he didn’t know how to open—afraid of what might be waiting on the other side.
His jaw tensed, like he was bracing himself for impact.
“I can’t lose you. If I do… I’ll have nothing left.”
And he meant it. It wasn’t a plea. It wasn’t a line. It was a quiet, soul-deep truth. One that had been building inside him long before the blood and the gunfire and the scream that had torn from his throat when he thought he’d already lost you.
He exhaled slowly, like he had to push the words past the fear.
“You’re everything to me,” he said, softer this time. “And I love you. I don’t expect you to feel the same. I just—if there’s still a part of you that wants this… if you’ll still have me…”
His voice broke, just barely, a hitch so small most people wouldn’t have noticed. But you did.
“I’m yours.”
He looked at you then, like he was standing on the edge of something sharp and bottomless. Like your silence might be the thing that finally shattered him. Like he would take whatever answer you gave—even if it gutted him—because loving you had never been about control.
Because this wasn’t a man trained to ask for things.
And still—he asked for you.
For a moment, he said nothing. Just looked at you like he wasn’t sure he’d heard right—like the words had landed too softly to be real, like they’d slipped through his defenses before he could catch them. 
The weight of everything he’d just laid bare sat heavy in the space between you, and it was clear from the flicker in his eyes that it had taken everything he had to give it to you. Now, he didn’t know how to breathe, didn’t know how to hope.
Then, softly, almost like it hurt: “Say something. Please.”
His voice was barely above a whisper—fragile and trembling, held together by nothing but hope and fear and the quiet kind of love that never asked for anything, but still wanted everything. 
There was no demand in it. Just raw need. The sound of a man standing at the edge, waiting to see if he’d be pulled back or left to fall.
Your heart ached with the honesty of it. With the way he sat there, waiting—not as a soldier, not as a weapon, not as someone who’d been trained to endure the worst the world could throw at him.
But as a man. Just a man. One who had finally admitted what he wanted, and was terrified that it wouldn’t be enough. That he wouldn’t be enough.
You reached out, fingers brushing the edge of his jaw, and he went still beneath your touch—completely still, like something inside him was holding its breath.
Your thumb swiped gently at the tear trailing down his cheek—a small, quiet thank-you for every part of him he had given you without expecting anything in return. For the courage it took to let himself be seen.
“I love you too,” you whispered.
His eyes shut like the words had cracked something wide open—like they’d found every broken part inside him and flooded it with light. His shoulders slumped, not with defeat, but with release, like the tension he’d been carrying since the moment he found you on that warehouse floor had finally let go.
And when he moved, it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t frantic. It was careful, gentle, like he didn’t want to scare the moment away.
He leaned in, forehead pressing gently to yours, and his breath ghosted across your lips—warm, uneven, shaky.
His hands came up to frame your face, fingertips brushing just beneath your ears, thumbs trembling faintly against your skin. And there was something in his expression that looked a lot like awe—like he couldn’t believe he got to have this. Got to have you.
You felt your gaze drift down—just slightly—and caught the glint of silver on his hand.
The thin band still wrapped around the fourth finger of his right hand.
The one from the mission.
“You’re still wearing it?” you asked, your voice barely more than a breath.
He let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh—like it startled him, that he still had laughter in him at all. “Yeah,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll ever take it off.”
There was something unshakable in the way he said it—not possessive, not forced. Just steady. Like this had never been a tactic or a disguise to him. Like it had always been more. Like somewhere along the way, without even meaning to, he’d decided that the ring was already real.
Then, carefully, he reached into the pocket of his sweatpants, slow, almost tentative, like even now he was afraid the moment might vanish if he moved too fast. You watched as he pulled out the second ring, slim and silver and achingly familiar. The one he’d never gotten to put on you.
Until now.
He looked up at you again, and this time his smile was smaller. Shyer. A little nervous in the way only he could be, all confidence stripped away, leaving behind something earnest and boyish and real.
“You never let me put it on, remember?”
You met his gaze, and for a heartbeat, you didn’t speak. Just looked at him, this man who had nearly shattered in front of you, who had stayed by your side through blood and silence and pain, who had chosen you even when it wasn’t easy.
And without a word, you extended your hand, left palm facing him, fingers slightly curled, offering it to him like it meant something.
Because it did.
“Now’s your chance,” you murmured.
He didn’t speak. Didn’t try to make it grand. He just took your hand like it was made of glass, something precious, something that had almost been taken from him, and slid the ring onto your finger with a gentleness that made your chest ache. 
His touch was steady now, but his eyes… his eyes told the truth. They shimmered with a kind of wonder, like he couldn’t believe he got to do this. That you were letting him.
When the band settled into place, his lips found the center of your palm, pressing there softly, not rushed, just sure.
Like a vow made without words.
And for the first time, it didn’t feel like pretending.
It felt like home.
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One week later, the compound felt like a strange mix of familiar and surreal. The sterile hallways and reinforced doors hadn’t changed, but everything else had. Or maybe it was just you.
You were home. Bruised, still limping, a dull ache riding your spine every time you moved too fast, but alive. Healing. Whole enough to smile when someone cracked a joke. Stable enough to tease John back. Present enough to notice the warmth of the sunlight pouring in through the glass atrium instead of the pain it lit up in your leg.
The team had been insufferable, in the way that only people who loved you could be.
Bob made soup. Every day. Different flavours, each one weirder than the last, like he was trying to test the boundaries of what counted as comfort food. 
The last one had contained turmeric, coconut milk, and what he swore up and down were healing enzymes. You hadn't asked. You just nodded, thanked him, the smile on his face grew brighter. 
Alexei had taken it upon himself to be your personal chauffeur. The man had nearly gotten into a shouting match with a medbot over who was allowed to push your wheelchair. He’d won. Somehow. 
And ever since, he wheeled you around like a race car driver, dramatic turns, Russian commentary, occasional sound effects, and all. “Turn three, is hairpin! Hold on!” he’d shout gleefully.
John yelled at the medbots on your behalf. Loudly. Colourfully. "Come on!" he'd barked after the fifth proximity alert went off near your bed, like the bots had something personal against you. 
The medbot responded with a passive-aggressive buzz. John flipped it off. The medbot flipped the switch back, in its own, uncanny little way. You were pretty sure it had been programmed just for him.
And Bucky?
He stayed close, but not hovering. A hand always offered before you asked. A look always checking, just in case.
He’d been quieter these days, not distant, just steady. Like now that he’d said it, now that you’d both said it, he didn’t have to force anything. 
He could just… be. With you. No more waiting, no more pretending. Just the quiet certainty of someone who had chosen you every day, even when you couldn’t see it.
You were curled up on the couch in the common room, a blanket across your lap and a hot pack on your hip when Yelena dropped down beside you. She handed you a cup of orange juice—cold, freshly poured.
She didn’t say anything at first. Just sat close, shoulder brushing yours.
Then she nudged you gently, her gaze tilted your way, curious. A little soft at the edges, like maybe she'd been waiting for the right moment to ask.
“How’s you and Bucky?”
You looked down instinctively, your fingers brushing the ring now resting on your left hand. 
“I never thought I could find happiness,” you said after a moment, voice quieter than you intended. “Not really. Not like this. But with him… it feels real.”
Yelena’s eyes softened. She reached over and squeezed your hand.
“You deserve it,” she said simply. “You both do.”
You let your head rest against her shoulder, the blanket shifting slightly as you moved. Your chest felt warm, not from the heating pad, but from the way she said it. 
After a beat, Yelena added, deadpan, “Val says she’ll pay for your honeymoon.”
You wrinkled your nose. “No thank you.”
She smirked. “You don’t want a government-sponsored vacation? With gps tracking and an optional mission brief?”
“I’d rather eat more of Bob’s soup.”
Behind you, from the kitchen, Bob yelled, “Hey!” You didn’t even turn around.
Laughter spilled into the room, light and easy, stretching out across the space like sunlight through glass.
And for the first time in a long, long time, you let yourself sink into it.
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A few weeks had passed, and life had begun to stitch itself into something that resembled normal. Not the kind of normal you'd known before, not pre-mission, but something quieter. Softer. A version of normal that fit into slow mornings and shared looks across rooms. 
It was healing, in its own strange way. A patchwork of bruises and blooming, of awkward firsts and familiar silences.
You still limped some days. Bucky still flinched at sudden noises.
But there was laughter now. There was warmth.
So when Bucky told you to meet him at the compound garage at 7 p.m, and added, almost shyly, “Dress nice” —you didn’t question it. Not out loud, anyway. 
You just raised an eyebrow, and he gave you that look. The one that meant, Trust me.
You tried to pry it out of John first. Predictable. Blunt-force obvious. And somehow, somehow, the man managed to keep his mouth shut. Not even a hint.
“He made me swear,” he said with smugness. “I’m not breaking that.”
You stared at him. “Seriously? As if that ever stopped you.” You quipped, jokingly.
John just grinned. “You think I want to be the reason he throws me through a wall?”
Alexei was no better. He distracted you for a good hour with a wild, mostly unverifiable story about his glory days involving a Russian circus, a helicopter, and what may have been a tiger. 
You weren’t sure if the entire thing was real or if he’d just been buying time, but he kept looking at the clock like it owed him something.
“Do not worry,” he said, patting your shoulder. “Is worth it.”
And then it was seven.
You made your way down the corridor, heels tapping softly against the concrete, nerves low in your belly even though you didn’t have a reason to be nervous. 
The garage doors were half-open. The light inside was warm, glowing.
You stepped through.
And your breath caught.
There he was.
Bucky stood just a few feet away, dressed in dark jeans and a crisp button-down, sleeves rolled to the elbows. His hair was neatly pushed back, the kind of effort he only made back when he was a congressman and that, that had been after you told him he can’t walk into the capitol with his hair in a mess. 
You both argued over that, sort of, but when you saw him on your television, hair slicked back, you had smiled. 
In his hand was a bouquet, mismatched wildflowers, soft pinks and whites and sprigs of green,like he hadn’t just picked the nicest flowers and wrapped them himself, but the ones that looked most like you.
And behind him, tucked into the far corner of the garage, was a small table for two. White tablecloth. Candles flickering inside glass jars. A few strands of string lights hung above it, casting the scene in a golden, dreamlike glow. 
A single speaker sat nearby, humming something low and instrumental, a soft jazz tune you vaguely recognized, the kind that filled a room without asking too much of it.
“What’s all this?” you asked, your voice catching slightly on the edges. You felt breathless. Not from shock, but from the tenderness of it all.
He gave a shrug, casual, but not careless. There was a nervous twitch to it, like he wasn’t quite sure how you were going to react. Like part of him still expected this to be too much. Or not enough.
“I figured…” He glanced away, then back at you. “I never got to take you on a real date. I wanted to do it right this time.”
You stared at him for a second longer, because it hit you all at once—the candles, the table, the flowers, him.
Every moment that had led to this one. Every choice, every ache, every time he could have walked away and didn’t. 
The man who'd stormed into a warehouse for you, who had stayed awake five nights just to be the first thing you saw—he was here. In jeans. With wildflowers. 
You stepped forward, eyes still on his, and took the flowers from his hand. Your fingers brushed his, and he didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned in, just slightly, like he was anchoring himself in the contact.
“You didn’t have to,” you said, a grin tugging at your mouth despite the lump rising in your throat.
“I wanted to,” he said simply.
There was a beat of silence, the kind that stretched warm between two people who no longer needed to rush. Who had already survived the worst and come out of it not just intact, but better. 
Then his head tilted, the corner of his mouth tugging up into that familiar, crooked smirk that always made your heart skip a beat.
“So… Mrs. Barnes,” he said, voice low, teasing, soft. “You free tonight?”
Your smile bloomed, wide and stupid and completely uncontained—the kind of smile that reached your eyes, your lungs, your bones. The kind that had once felt impossible and now came easy, like breathing.
“For you, Always.”
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a/n: oh my gosh, we are at the end!!! ❤️ i am so grateful for each and everyone of you for taking the time to read this series, for your support, kind words that really motivated me to keep this series going 💌.
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taglist: @hughjackmanadict @vxllys @f1padfoot @mortallydistinguishedwolf @midnightvitality @starglory @benbarnesprettygurl @biggestfangirl @lexavalon52 @harrietandcats @cjand10 @loganficsonly @kqliie @kitkatyap @buckyslefttooth @its-in-the-woods @yessebastianstanus @buckysgirl27 @lokisgirlie @furiousprincesskingdom @keira-kaz2y5 @amatiswayland @emilyswortwellen @samanthaw16 @bobscucumber @rrosiitas @alicetesser @morphoportis @polkadot-567 @w-h0re @c3iiaaaaa @mouseratface@biaswreckedbybuckybarnes@that-daughter-of-hephaestus
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pome-seed · 1 month ago
Text
The Soldier's Keeper ★ 41
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Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Doctor!Reader
Summary: Life with the Avengers
Word Count: 7.0k
Warnings: Mention of anxiety.
18+ blog, Minors Do Not Interact.
Authors Note: Easily the longest chapter of this series. Oh my. ALSO, if you want to be apart of the taglist, let me know :)
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Bucky found his way to your room every night, just after you clicked the light off in your lab station. Most nights he was there before you were. You’d shoulder through the door, pulling your hair down with a groan as you kick off your shoes. You’d stifle your surprised yelp when you found him sitting on the corner of your bed, elbows on his knees. 
“Hey,” you slowly set your bag on the dresser. 
“Hi,” he raises his head, blue eyes flickering over your body. “How was your day?”
You run your fingers through your hair, wincing as the tangles knotted around your fingers. “Good, they have everything here- like, everything.” You smile, stepping closer. “It’s weird being back in a lab, honestly. I haven’t done anything serious yet, just familiarizing myself again.”
“Mm,” he nods along, staring up at you through dark lashes. “Do you have any ideas on what you’re gonna be working on?”
You shrug, digging through your dresser for pajamas. “Not really, I still have to go back to school to finish out my degree, before I go forward with any of my previous projects.” You gather your clothes under your arm and glance back. Bucky’s already standing, moving towards the bathroom.
Everything had changed since moving into the compound, but the one routine you could always rely on was Bucky sitting with you while you shower. In those first few nights, he found you in your bathroom, using the last few sprays of dry shampoo, panicked. He had to pry the can from your hands, and calm you down. You felt embarrassed that you were too scared to shower on your own, even surrounded by the Avengers. 
But Bucky just listened. He listened to you panic, watched you lower your head in shame, and told you it was okay.
You hadn’t wanted to bother him, now that he had his own room, own life, and now that you had a job again. You wanted to feel safe and healed, now that you were home. 
But you didn’t.
And you never would.
So Bucky threw your dry shampoo away, sat on the lid of the toilet, and told you to get your change of clothes and towel. At first you just stared at him, amazed, but eventually did what he asked. 
So now, he found you every night before bed, and sat with you while you showered, like he always did before. 
Except now, you welcomed him to sit inside the bathroom, back against the door. He always kept his head down until you got in the shower, and always left before you got out. But this way, you could share a moment to just talk with one another. And it gave Bucky a way to keep your mind off your anxiety.
“Are you gonna go back to school?” Bucky clicks the bathroom door shut, then flips the lock.
You drop your clothes onto the counter. “Absolutely, just- not yet…” you mutter, fiddling with the shower settings. “I just need some time to settle in, you know?” You glance back, watching Bucky settle with his back against the door, his arms thrown over his bent knees. 
“Mhm,” he nods, his metal fingers picking at his cuticles. “You don’t have to rush anything. I’ve barely left this damn building.”
“Hey, you go out every morning,” you smile, tugging off your socks. 
“Training doesn’t count.” He lowers his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. 
“It does,” you give him one last look before finally stripping out of your clothes. Bucky’s eyes snap shut when he sees your underwear drop to the tiles in his peripheral. “Steve tells me all about your guys’ jog route- he keeps asking me to tag along.”
“You should,” he mutters, listening to the shower door slide open. 
You chuckle quietly as you step under the stream. “I’m not gonna train with the Avengers, and a bunch of super soldiers.” You dip your head back under the water. “You can open your eyes,” you mutter in afterthought.
“Maybe not, but you could still tag along to the gym sometime. I don’t know how much of Sam’s chit-chatting I can take alone.” He mumbles, raising his head. He tries not to, but his gaze flickers up to the frosted glass doors of the shower, your silhouette fairly clear. 
He turns his head away.
“Maybe,” you shrug, raking shampoo through soaked locks of hair. “I need to polish up on those self defense moves you taught me.”
“Do you even remember what I taught you?” He chuckles.
“Not really,” you rinse out the suds. “Never really got a chance to use it,” you scrunch conditioner into your hair. “So I wouldn’t mind going back to class with Mr. Barnes.”
You snicker at the sound of Bucky’s quiet groan. 
“Knock it off,” he mutters.
You pump soap into your hand, laughing. “What?”
Bucky rolls his head back against the door. “You’re ridiculous.”
You have to suppress your smile while you wash your face, but the giddy feeling in your chest is there. It always is when you tease Bucky. 
He huffs, wiping a hand down his face as steam sticks to his skin. 
You stick your head below the stream, rinsing your face. “Almost done,” you grab your body wash. 
“Take your time, sweetheart.” His eyes roll closed.
Your stomach flips. 
You continue washing your body, trying not to focus on his fond tone. 
Once you finally finish with your shower, Bucky lowers his head and you step out, dripping with water. You towel off and tug on your pajamas, then wrap up your hair. When you’re dressed, you take a second to stare down at Bucky, his head hung low. 
His metal arm is quite literally fogged over, dripping with perspiration. Stray hairs stick to his face, and you can tell he must be hot. Fully clothed in a steamy bathroom. You bite down on your tongue and shove your dirty clothes into a basket. 
“You can open your eyes.”
Bucky raises his head, his lips curling at the sight of the towel sitting lopsided on your head. 
“Wanna watch a movie now?” You ask, shifting.
Bucky climbs to his feet and cracks the door open. “Yeah, c’mon.”
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The long wooden dining table is littered with the remnants of dinner- empty plates, half-eaten pies, and at least three varieties of hot sauce- courtesy of Thor, who insists "All meals need a bit of fire." Everyone’s kicked back, lounging with drinks in hand. The warm glow from the fireplace makes the whole place feel like a cozy retreat.
You’re on the couch between Natasha and Clint, knees tucked to your chest.
Tony’s actively poking fun at Steve for his pick of music, as they fight over the Spotify control.
Natasha snickers as Clint carefully tosses popcorn into Thor's long hair, where he’s making himself another drink at the bar.
You’re still getting used to these moments, these calm, domestic slices of peace. You were nervous to start sticking around after dinner, for nightly movies and conversation. But Steve and Wanda urged you, begging to make you feel welcome. 
And slowly you did.
It was a bit harder for Bucky. He didn’t often stick around after grabbing food and slipping back down the hall. You wished he felt a bit more at home, but you would never force him. You started to think this slice of the afternoon was his alone time.
Away from training, people, and you- not in a bad way, just time to himself.
You honestly think he just spends this time in the gym, working off pent up energy.
You blink back into the conversation as Tony is raising his glass, boasting some crappy speech about successfully making dinner. He decided to take the responsibility of cooking tonight, which Vision usually took liberty of.
You stifle a snicker behind your glass, looking up at him across the coffee table. “It’s impressive how you always find a way to make a speech about yourself.”
Tony cracks a smirk. “And here you are, still listening. It’s called charisma. Or maybe that’s just my cologne,” he sniffs his shirt. 
Pepper smacks him in the arm.
“I don’t think they could bottle your ego,” you smile, finally feeling comfortable enough to tease. 
“If someone could, I’d notice.” Tony tsks sarcastically. He squints at you dramatically. “Speaking of things I notice, which is everything, by the way- wanna share with the class why a certain super soldier is always spending his nights with you?”
You freeze, not expecting such a straight shot. “What?”
“I see everything,” he grins, taking a swig of his drink. 
Clint, always a bit out of the loop, looks at Steve. “What’s happening now?”
“Not him, airhead.” Tony smirks. “Sergeant Barnes.”
“He’s not spending the night with me- and how do you even know he comes to my room?” You grimace at Tony.
“The cameras.”
“Tony,” Steve scolds, shaking his head. 
“What? I have a right to know what's happening in my house. So, why the routine visits?” Tony raises a nosy brow. Pepper shoves her arm in his side, trying to shut him up. 
But the seed is already planted. Several eyes are now curiously on you. 
“It’s not anything special-” you blurt, shrugging stiffly. “He just- we have this routine.”
“Uhuh?” Clint leans forward, now unabashedly interested.
You roll your eyes. “It’s from our time in Romania.” You shrug. “I have problems showering alone, so Bucky just sits with me. But that’s not what’s important- you’re spying on me through the cameras? Are you seriously that bored at night?” You gape at him.
“Very true-” Natasha shifts her judgmental smirk to Tony.
“We have cameras, is it a crime to look?” He rolls his eyes. “But anyways, don’t change the subject. You’re the one letting Barnes watch you shower.”
A loud shudder makes everyone's attention snap to the right- where Bucky is standing by the fridge, his hands frozen around a bottle of water.
“Speak of the devil!” Tony grins.
You swallow awkwardly. “And that’s my cue.” You climb to your feet and set your glass on the table. You carefully step around Natasha until you’re walking away, towards Bucky, towards the elevator. “Goodnight.”
Bucky doesn’t move until you step past him. He silently follows after you, not saying a word. 
Tony whistles as you step into the elevator. 
You glance up at Bucky, whose dark hair is tucked carefully behind his ears, slightly damp. He must have just washed up after the gym. He doesn’t say anything as the doors finally close. He cracks open his water bottle and takes a sip. You realize the tips of his ears are a dark pink.
“Tony was just being an ass-” you blurt, feeling the need to explain yourself. “He saw you coming to my room, so I was telling him about the shower thing.”
He carefully caps his bottle, smacking his lips together. “Ah,” he nods in understanding. 
He glances up at you from beneath dark lashes. Your stomach twists warmly. 
“Did you just get back from the gym?” You mutter. 
“Mhm,” he nods, his large hands carefully wrapped around the bottle. His index finger slowly taps against the cold plastic. “‘Re you goin’ to bed?”
You shake your head. The elevator dings, the doors opening to the residential floor. “You?”
“Mm-mm.” He shakes his head.
“Wanna come help me with some Romanian homework? I picked up a translated copy of The Hobbit.” You shift, tilting your head up at him. To Bucky’s endearment, you were still happily studying the language you spent so long learning.
“Sure-” he lets you step out of the elevator first, then follows after you. “Can we watch The Godfather after?”
Your expression breaks into a soft smile. “We’ve watched that movie like six times now.”
He shrugs, following you to your room. “It’s a good movie.” You could swear he sounded like he was pouting.
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Most people would think that the kitchen in the Avengers compound would be constantly stacked full. Except most people didn’t realize just how much super soldiers needed to eat to sustain their bodies. That, and several team members were fans of movie nights, with piles of snacks. 
So grocery runs were often.
When the Avengers lived in the city, in the tower, it was much easier to just have everything they needed ordered. Except they were now located in upstate New York, with miles of forest surrounding the compound.
Which meant longer drives and an entire evening dedicated to shopping.
And as one of the only people in the compound that wasn’t an active soldier, you found yourself being the designated grocery shopper.
You didn’t mind actually, it gave you a reason to leave the lab and drive a car. Which you really missed. So once a week, you loaded yourself into the car and drove into the city, shopping for everyone's favorite snacks and ingredients.
You thought it would be easy and exciting at first. But on your first trip, you only got halfway into the city before you were hit with a massive panic attack, and Vision had to fly out to drive you home.
Something about the packed environment, the prying eyes, and being alone, just got to you.
Maybe because in the last two years, every time you found yourself alone in a city, you were being shot.
When Bucky found out about the incident, he refused to let you go out on your own again. You wanted to protest, to say you were fine and it was just jitters. But in all reality, you were deeply relieved.
So the next time you drove into the city, Bucky sat beside you. 
It was honestly deeply sweet, because while you drove, he grumpily sorted through your Spotify, playing random songs until he found something he liked.
When you finally got to the store, you grabbed a cart and Bucky followed you like a puppy.
He went silent the moment he stepped inside the chilled building, overwhelmed by the many colors and options. “And you thought Romanian supermarkets were bad,” you nudge him with your elbow.
He huffs, following beside you with a frown. “Where’s the list?”
You hand him your phone, where an excessively long grocery list waited. “Let’s start with the dry food, then go for fruits and veggies, yeah?”
He hums, scrolling through the items.
You take your time sorting through the aisles, picking out pastas, cereals, rice, herbs, flour, and countless other dry items. Bucky holds your phone close to his face as he reads out the items in the specific aisle you were in. 
You would have done it the other way around, but you could pick out items a lot quicker since you recognized packaging. Bucky was much slower with finding what you needed. 
There was something so simple about grocery shopping with Bucky. Something that felt familiar and safe. You felt comfortable being able to scour the store without that nagging fear, because you had him.
You knew you were safe with Bucky at your side.
Even when strangers' gazes lingered, or when you had a camera pointed at you both from the corner. You still felt safe, because you had Bucky.
You push the cart towards the dairy section when your phone goes off.
“Uh, Tony says don’t forget ‘pop-tarts?’” Bucky read off the message, following behind you.
You click your tongue and glance into the cart. “Right- can you run back to the snack section and grab a few boxes? It’s the blue box- strawberry flavored?”
Bucky squints down at your phone, then nods. “Okay- just stay here.” He glances at you once before walking off toward the snack aisle.
You continue picking through the freezers, grabbing milk and the coffee creamer you like. You realize about two seconds later that Bucky took your phone, so you can’t continue shopping for any cheeses or yogurts. 
You sigh and start reading through other creamer flavors, when a voice speaks up behind you.
“Excuse me?” You flinch and snap your head back to see a tall blonde man smiling at you. “Sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to say you’re absolutely stunning- do you think I could get your number?”
You gape at him for a second too long, your heart thudding quickly in your chest with unexpected anxiety. “Thank you-” you snap yourself back into the moment. “But uh, no thank you,” you smile awkwardly.
The man scratches his nape, his ears flushing a soft pink. “You sure? I’d love to take you out, we could get coffee or lunch or something.”
You glance over his shoulder, wishing you would have just gone with Bucky. “I’m sorry, I actually don’t have my phone on me right now-”
“Let me take your number, it’s fine.” He steps around your cart, holding his phone out. 
“I’m just-” you cringe. “I’m sorry, I’m just not interested.”
His smile falls slightly, shifting to something more wounded. “Why not? I’m sure I could show you a great time- just give me a chance, I’ll make your night.” He insists.
“I’m busy tonight-” you keep trying to end the conversation, but he just seems to grow more and more insistent.
“Tomorrow then, or this weekend. C’mon, you’re gorgeous, I’m a catch, let me-” The rest of his sentence faded to silence as Bucky’s dark silhouette flashed in your peripheral vision. Your head snaps to the side, watching as Bucky calmly sets the boxes of pop-tarts in the cart, then manoeuvres himself to stand in front of you.
“Sounds like she said no, so the conversation is over now. Walk away,” Bucky exhales.
The blonde man’s frown deepens, his gaze shamelessly wandering over Bucky as he sizes him up. You swear you can see him puff up his chest to seem bigger- to match Bucky’s size. “You her boyfriend?”
“No,” Bucky’s voice is steady, calm. His response makes your stomach flip- making you want to sink further into your shell.
It’s true. He’s not. But then again, you don’t really know what Bucky is.
“Then you can’t speak for her, back off-”
Bucky turns to look at you over his shoulder, his dark gaze making you shiver. “Do you want to go out with this man?”
Startled, you blurt out “no.”
Bucky turns back to the man. “Enough said.” Bucky gestures for you to start pushing the cart away. You grip the handle and push it about an inch before the man's pale hand smacks down on the end of the cart, stopping you in your tracks. 
“Come on-”
In the second it takes you to blink, Bucky has ripped the man's arm up and shoved him back a step. “Go check out,” Bucky’s command makes your spine straighten, shock washing over you. He keeps his eyes on the man in front of him, knowing you’ll listen.
“Okay-” You shove the cart forward, mindlessly walking towards the front of the store. You refuse to look behind you as you hear the two start to argue. Something about Bucky’s frustrated voice lowly scolding the man makes your skin break out in goose-bumps. 
You get to the register and start loading up your items, nerves pinching at you the longer Bucky’s not with you. As you set a small bag of limes onto the belt, you hear a shout and a loud crash. You wince, groaning internally at the possible ban from the store you might be getting.
When Bucky finally pops back up beside you, you’re setting your bags back in the cart. Bucky pulls a heavy bag of milk from your hands, wordlessly helping to load up the bags. 
You stare up at him, confused. “What happened?”
A voice calls over the speakers, “clean up on aisle 12.”
Bucky looks down at you, his jaw fluttering as he clenches his teeth. “We talked.”
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Under the lull of the moonlight and the silence of the room, your bedroom door cracks open. You lay motionless in bed, having nodded off hours before. Bucky slips through the cracked door and clicks it shut behind him. He pauses there, at the threshold of the room, a silent guilt crawling up his chest. 
He woke in a cold sweat, a terror gripping deep in his chest, pulling and tugging until he thought he might vomit. He was still shaking. But he had no right to bring this to you, he knew that. He had no right to enter your room like this, he knew that too. 
You look so at peace in your sleep, it makes him pause. It makes him want to watch you, observe and appreciate the gentle beauty that is you.
But he doesn’t watch. 
He doesn’t wait.
Because the fear gripping his chest is so strong, so familiar, that he needs it to stop. And the only way he knows how to do that, is to be close to you. Like that day back in Romania, cradled in your touch.
You stir from unconsciousness when you feel the bed dip. You hadn’t even really realized you were awake. Your eyes are so heavy, they feel glued shut. You contemplate just slipping back into the river of sleep, when you feel the covers shift.
You freeze, your body reacting on instinct. 
A weight slides over your waist, wrapping around you. Your frazzled mind wanted to gasp and flinch away, but you stopped yourself.
Heavy. Firm. Freezing. 
You blink through the haze of sleep and panic and glance down at the metal hand resting on your stomach. 
Shock follows when you feel the attached body draw close to yours, large chest pressed to your back. Stubble tickles the back of your neck where Bucky presses his face against your nape. A shiver runs down your spine as he blows out a sigh, warm breath coasting along your skin. Like he was exhaling the stress that knotted its way around his spine.
A part of you wants to pretend you’re still asleep, to ignore it and pretend you had no memory of it in the morning.
But you knew that was wrong.
He wouldn’t seek you out like this for no reason. 
Ignoring the flutter in your stomach, you slide your palm along the cold steel of his arm and close your eyes. You let him pull you tighter against his body. You let him nuzzle into your neck. You let him find silent comfort in your embrace, and you let him do it without forcing him to explain himself.
His large cold fingers spread out over your stomach, pressing you closer.
With a pink blush tinting your cheeks, and his soft breath tickling your skin, you fall asleep in his tight embrace. Bucky slips under the veil of unconsciousness not long after, taking comfort in your familiar scent and your familiar touch. 
Through the night you barely budged. Bucky was strong, even in his sleep. He kept a tight grip on you, his other arm sliding beneath your head, cradling you close. 
As the sun finally rises against the horizon, soft golden light melts through the windows, bathing you in warmth. When your eyes finally roll open, you forget the night before. You forget ever waking up.
Until you instinctively start to stretch, squirming in place to adjust your shoulder, but the strong grip around your waist holds you in place.
You freeze, and everything hits you. Your gaze snaps down to the large steel fingers spread out over your stomach, now fully awake. It takes you a second to fully register what's happening, as you’re now aware of the large body pressed against yours. 
His face is nuzzled into your hair, his lips pressed to your nape. His soft little puffs of breath tickle your skin. The strength of his arms wrapped around you shocks you. He clings to you, holds you in place, even in his sleep.
Thankfully you don’t have to use the bathroom, because you doubt you would be able to climb out of his grip without waking him.
As you lay there, you wonder what made him seek you out. What happened in his dreams, in his night, that rocked him so deeply. You wonder how many times he’s wanted to do this before. 
So you lay there silently, heart pounding, allowing him to rest. You doubt he got much deep, uninterrupted sleep.
Your fingers dance absently along the grooves of metal of his knuckles, the material warm from your body. You don’t mean to do it, but you almost have to, to keep yourself awake. The calm, silent lull of warmth that surrounds you begs to drag you back to sleep.
And you almost do, until those strong arms squeeze a little tighter. His face presses a little closer. A heavy sigh brushes your neck.
A small grunt leaves his throat as he disgruntledly wakes. You shiver as a puff of breath tingles against your ear. Bucky stiffens behind you, as if just realizing you’re awake. You can feel the bob of his throat as he swallows. He nuzzles his face into your nape, his ears tinged pink.
“Morning,” you whisper.
He makes a small huffing sound. 
You try to laugh, but wince. “Can’t breathe-” 
He immediately loosens his grip on you. His arm around your waist slides back, his steel palm dragging from your ribs, over your stomach, to rest on your hips. You ignore the butterflies that twist in your gut.
You slowly turn in his arms until you’re facing him. His eyes downcast towards the pillows, with shame or embarrassment, you don’t know. Your cheek rests against his bicep, his other hand still finding its home on your hip.
“Hi,” you whisper, insecure and a little flushed under the new circumstances.
“Hey,” his voice is rough and groggy with sleep, like velvet stretched over stone. 
With slow movements, you brush dark hair from his eyes with the tip of your finger. “What’s going on?” He gulps, his gaze fixed somewhere between you. “Hey,” you whisper, tilting his head up slightly. Stormy blue eyes meet yours. Your stomach flips. “What happened?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” He swallows. You nod, tracing the pad of your finger along his jaw. 
“Okay,” you nod. “Wanna talk about it?” He shakes his head. You assumed he would. You stare into those clear blue eyes, shadowed beneath dark lashes. “Then, wanna go get breakfast and watch Steve yell at the morning training group?”
He huffs out a gentle laugh. He nuzzles his head into his shoulder, glancing at you through his lashes. “I’m sorry.” He mutters. 
“Don’t be.”
“I should be,” he insists. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-…I just shouldn’t have.”
You slide your hand down to the soft corner of his jaw and pinch him. “Stop, just stop, okay?” He hisses and looks up at you. “You didn’t do anything wrong- besides almost cracking a rib.” You smile, lifting a brow. “Okay?”
He frowns at you, motionless, speechless. His silence makes you sigh. You rake his hair out of his face, your fingers pushing into the dark lengths. You catch his visible shutter. The flutter of his lashes.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” You whisper.
“I shouldn’t put this on you.” He mutters, his voice quiet in the small space between you. 
“You know I don’t like when you talk like that.” You tug gently on his long hair. 
He winces. “Still.” He grumbles. 
“What really happened last night?” You trace your nails against his scalp, making him shudder. 
His ashamed gaze moved to the place between you, his eyes sliding shut. “I…” He swallows, clearing his throat. “I had a dream.” The darkness in his voice makes you shiver.
“What kind of dream?”
“About those people.” He confesses. “The people I hurt.”
Something awful twists in your gut, something painful and dark. “Buck,” you whisper, your touch gentle as you pet the back of his head. He refuses to look at you. Something you recently learned was that Bucky was on a mission to make amends for his past. Something encouraged by his therapist. 
You knew it was hard. Writing down all the names he could remember. Searching for the stories of those he disgracefully laid to rest. 
“Can you look at me?” It takes him a moment, but eventually he does. “I’m gonna say something, and I want you to hear me out, okay?”
He nods. 
“Look…I know you’re on a mission to make amends, and I know you think it will help, but honestly? I don’t think it’s doing anyone any good.” You feel guilty saying it, but you need to say your piece. “At least, not the way you’re doing it right now. This mission is to make you feel more at peace, but it's also supposed to right wrongs. But what you’re doing is just hurting yourself and the families of the people who died.”
Bucky watches you with a frown, his brows knit together with shame.
“I think there's other ways to help the living. To help the communities of those who died. I think bringing people closure is great, but there's a difference between bringing closure, and torturing yourself- and them. There's more that you can do, other ways to help you feel like you’re doing the right thing.”
Bucky stares at you in silence, digesting your words. You chew your cheek in thought, nervous that maybe you should have kept your mouth shut. 
“Like what?” He asks carefully.
“There’s relief missions you could go on, disaster relief, habitat for humanity. Or you could join veteran outreach programs.” You list off, hoping the intense look he gives you is a good thing. “You could raise funds for causes that your victims were fighting for, even. There’s so many things you can do, that aren’t torturing yourself and stalking those families.”
Bucky sighs, his eyes falling shut. “I just want to do the right thing.”
Your heart aches for him, in that moment. You trace your fingertips down his nape, your thumb rubbing circles into tense muscle. “I know,” you whisper. “How about we go get breakfast, then do some research?”
He rolls his eyes open, dark lashes fluttering at you. “Okay,” he sighs, his frown softening. But Bucky doesn’t move, he doesn’t pull away. The hand on your hip stays frozen, strong and firm. He stares at you, almost cross eyed with how close you two are. 
He watches you, like he’s picking his thoughts apart carefully. Hesitant. 
You start to get a little confused, until he leans in.
Bucky presses a gentle kiss to your lips, soft and still. Just a brush, like he’s not sure he’s doing the right thing. Your pulse spikes and you push closer, tilting your head. You kiss him back, slow and careful.
He sighs into your mouth, his lashes fluttering fully closed. The strong fingers on your hip press a little harder. 
And then he withdraws, letting space flow between you. 
You blink up at him, a little dazed from the sudden casual affection. It wasn’t something you were used to. It wasn’t something he was used to. But he moved like he wanted to try. Because with you, he wants it to feel easy. He wants to know what he’s doing, and how to do it right. 
“So uh- breakfast?” You whisper, licking your lips. 
He nods slowly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he sits up.
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Your relationship with Bucky was complicated.
Complicated was honestly the best word to describe it. Complex, intimate, vulnerable, and complicated. 
No one would dare argue that.
But it was also clear to everyone around you that neither of you really knew what you were doing. 
You knew what you felt. You knew Bucky held a place in your heart that no other person could. That his voice brought a peace to your soul that felt like the gentle wash of the sea. You knew that his presence, his touch, his being, made you feel safe- in a way nothing else could.
You knew Bucky was special. 
But you knew he needed time. 
What you didn’t know was that Bucky was ready- he just didn’t know how to say it. What to do.
You didn’t know that he reread your letter from last year, nearly every night. You didn’t know that in your time apart, he’d close his eyes and ghost his flesh hand along his cheek, trying to remember your touch. Trying to replicate the feeling.
But nothing could.
Because you weren’t just a warm hand. You weren’t just a kind presence. 
You were everything.
You were the light in his dark abyss. You were the gentle laughter that tugged at his soul. You were the smile that made him believe in joy again. 
You were the beauty that captured his heart, in every manner.
But Bucky was broken. He’d always be broken. He would never fix the damage done to his soul. Neither could you. But you could ease the pain. 
He just didn’t know how to push past his shattered pieces, and find his way to you.
You didn’t know the internal battle he fought every time he was near you. You just let him work through it, by his side. Patient.
You’re sitting against the headboard of your bed, legs curled up. Bucky lays beside you, not close enough to touch, but close enough that the space between you buzzes with something unspoken. His elbow occasionally brushes your leg, but neither of you moves.
It’s the kind of closeness that doesn’t need to be loud.
You’re quietly reading aloud to him, from a new book in Romanian Bucky bought you. He got it for you days ago, but this was your first time reading it. You wanted to wait. You wanted to read it together.
Bucky lays back, his head at the foot of the bed. He subtly watches you frown at the page, stumbling over unfamiliar words.
A soft smile curls at his lips. Fond. Familiar.
The walls buzz gently with music from the other room, the team settling in for a late night drink. You weren’t familiar with the song, but you also weren’t paying attention - too focused on getting your pronunciation right.
Bucky listens silently, quietly correcting you everytime you add the tense in the wrong part of a word.
You scribble in the notebook resting on your pillow, taking notes. 
You start reading again, beginning another chapter. Before you can get too far in, the music in the other room changes. Soft saxophone rumbles against the floor, floating through the air. Bucky shifts, lifting his head. 
You look down at him, smiling. “Guess it’s Steve’s turn with the playlist.” 
Bucky’s lips twitch as he drops his head back down. “Must be,” he mutters, his hands folding back over his stomach. 
For some reason, you don’t look away. Your gaze catches on the shadow of his jaw. The contrast of his dark lashes against bright blue eyes. The flushed color of his lips, as he smiles to himself. 
“Keep readin’ sweetheart, it was just gettin’ good.” He glances down at you.
Instead you close the book and set it down. “Nah,” you slowly climb out of bed, your socked feet sliding against the floor. Bucky lifts his head, watching you with confusion. 
“What’re you doing?” His brows pinch together.
You hold your hands out to him, wiggling your fingers. “C’mere.” 
He stares at you for a second longer before sitting up. You catch his hands and yank him up, to the open space in the middle of your room. “What?” He chuckles, swallowing around the lump in his throat as you pull him close. 
You tilt your chin up at him, straining to hear muffled lyrics through the wall. “Dance with me.”
He stiffens slightly, his lips curling into a frown. “Dance?”
“Yeah,” You carefully slide a hand to his shoulder. “Dance with me.” You whisper. 
He stares down at you with something you can’t decipher. Something familiar and nostalgic. You’re patient, standing with him in silence. You wonder if he’s thinking of the last time you danced. The last time you were cradled in his arms, swaying to scratched CD’s.
He slides his heavy metal palm around your waist. His other hand, rough and warm, cradles yours, raising it up. “It’s been a while,” he mutters.
“That’s okay,” you hum, tilting your head to rest on his chest.
He worries, absently, that you can hear the heavy beat of his heart. That you can hear the way his ribs nearly crack beneath its pace. So he tightens his gentle hold on you and sways to the music, staring down at your smile.
You sigh into him, thinking of how far you’ve come. 
How different your lives are from back then. You don’t have to lower the volume of your crappy cd player, you don’t have to sway in silence. You don’t have to hide. You just have to dance. You just have to live.
You squeeze Bucky’s large hand, leaning into his warmth, his scent. 
Bucky leads you with each small step, each careful spin. His muscles still remember the joy of his childhood. The practiced steps. The feeling of freedom when dancing. 
But it’s you who makes him enjoy it. 
It’s you who makes him want the song to stretch on.
He wishes, in the deepest corner of his heart, that he could explain that to you. That you’re the electricity that sparks life into his old bones. He wishes he didn’t have to find the words- because you never failed to make him feel speechless. 
“I used to force Steve to go dancing with me when we were kids.” He mutters, his chin resting on your head. “Every damn week.”
“Yeah?” You close your eyes.
“Yeah.” He nods, your hair tickling his jaw. “He could never find a date, so he’d always end up sitting on the sidelines, watching me. He’d always tease me.”
“Did you? Find a date, I mean.”
“Mhm,” his voice rumbles in his chest, the feeling vibrating against your cheek. “I had lot’s of dance partners.”
“Waitta make a girl feel special,” you chuckle.
But he doesn’t laugh.
He slows your careful sway, looking down at you. “You are special.” 
You glance up at him, your easy smile softening. 
His brows twitch together. The warmth surrounding you grows thick, tension melting into his expression. “I wish I could have taken you dancing back then.” He whispers, his metal fingers stroking circles into your hip. Your words die out, speechless as you stare up at him. “You would have loved it.”
You swallow. “Yeah?”
He exhales, shaken suddenly. You often find yourself grappling with the easy way Bucky’s mood could change. His warm blue eyes burn through you, something strong brewing there.  He looks down at you like you’re all that’s anchoring him to the present.
“I wish I could talk to you, like I could back then.” His throat bobs softly, frustration with himself growing steadily.
“I like how you talk now.” You squeeze his flesh hand, grounding him.
“It would be different.” He whispers, holding you close. “I’d be able to say it.”
Your brows slowly knit together as you stare up at him. “Say what?”
But he doesn’t answer. He just looks at you - really looks at you. Like he can see right through you. Beneath your skin, beneath the physical. Down to your very core. To the blood that pumps in your veins. To the breath that fills your lungs. To the soul that brings you life.
That brings him life.
“I’d be able to say it.” He repeats, barely a whisper. 
“Bucky-” You swallow, your hand on his chest sliding up to cup his jaw. You shake your head. “It’s okay. I don’t expect anything from you.”
“But I want to.” Metal plates shift as his arm winds tighter around your waist. You’re no longer dancing. Nor swaying. Just standing there, together. “I want to say it, Y/n.”
“Then say it.”
You look up into his eyes - vulnerable, raw, and burning with devotion.
“Y/n, you…” he exhales a trembling breath. Light catches on the glossed corners of his eyes. “Time is the only constant in my life. The only thing that never changes,” his voice is broken, raw. Like a wound torn open. “Except for you. Except for-” his tongue swipes over his lips, nerves sparking beneath his skin. “Except for this. Everything I’ve ever known has changed at least once, but- not this.”
You stare up at him, your lips parted on a breath you can’t catch.
“Not you. Not what I feel for you,” those words sound like they clawed their way from his very core. Climbed their way up, fought darkness and pain, just to float into the air between you.
“You’re the only thing in this world that’s mine.” He whispers. 
Something hot burns behind your eyes, fogging your vision as you teeter on the edge of breathlessness. 
Soft music floats through the walls, buzzing against your skin. 
“I am,” you tremble, your thumb brushing his jaw as he shakes. “I am, Bucky. I’m yours.” 
He flinches, like your words strike him- not in a painful way. But in the way of stepping into sunlight after months. Like tasting water in a drought. Like hearing your voice after drowning in his own thoughts. 
“I just want to be yours,” you whisper. 
And just like that, his hand slides behind your neck, pulling you into a kiss - not hurried, not rough - but sure. Possessive in the way that says you’re not going anywhere, and neither is he.
This isn’t a question. It’s a promise.
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A/N: I was gonna add the next scene to this, but the chapter was getting really long, so I'm giving you guys a cliff hanger. You'll never guess what happens next.
@rafesgurl @pleasecallmeunhinged @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @frog-fans-unite @lonelyghosts-stuff @cherryandsugar @a-world-with-pure-imagination @unicornqueen05 @cupids-mf-arrow @sharkylalala @littlesuniee @meineguete @hawkinsavclub1983 @theconsultingdoctor10 @dollface-xoxo @bloodmocha @natalia42069 @nicolebarnes @fallen-w1ngs @justachillgirllui @avaout @local-crazy @nynxtea @cherryheairt @soupiemeowmeow @akkklys @escapismurmom @sleepysongbirdsings @bumblebeebutter @lalaren @valyriantarg @hosshihusshi @mysoulbelongstobuckybarnes @sebastians-love @clown420cunt
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valleydolli · 1 month ago
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Only You | Chapter Six
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CW 𝜗𝜚 MDNI, Stalking, Obsessiveness, Controlling Behaviour, Love Bombing, Murder, Fluff, Kidnapping, Smut, Toxic Sukuna, Yandere Sukuna? Readers a sweetie, (Touch her you die… like actually…)
𝜗𝜚 Series Masterlist
𝜗𝜚 Chapter Five | Chapter Seven
𝜗𝜚 WC: 2.6k
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“I need to tell you something before we get in there.”
You’ve cleaned yourself up, covering the mascara streaks running down your cheeks. It’s as if nothing happened 30 minutes ago. The ride wasn’t awkward, it was calm enough for you to shut your eyes while he caressed you gently. He’s right about you moving in with him. Trouble follows you. Ren, that creep at the club, and now Satoru is acting up. Come to think of it, you didn’t see Ren for the whole summer. Last year, you would see him everywhere, but you haven’t seen him since… you went to Kaspas with Sukuna and Yuji. 
Strange. 
He must have moved away. 
“What is it?”
He puts his car in park, tapping his finger on your thigh, thinking of how he wants to word what he’s about to tell you.
Your heart begins to beat faster. “Did I do something wrong again?”
“What? No, no, you haven’t done anything. My— For fuck sake.” He runs his hands across his face. “My parents are in there. They’re really good friends with Himiko's parents. Yours too apparently…” 
You do nothing but blink. What do you even say to that?
“Is that why you’re so indifferent to Himi?” 
“No– well, she acts just like her mother. I never met her personally until I met you, but I’ve been around her parents a few times. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.”
“Are your parents Wasuke and Yuuka? I’ve only met them briefly. I never knew they had kids, let alone a grandkid.”
Weird.
You never sat down and spoke with your parents' friends apart from the Suzumis. But that's only because they had a daughter the same age as you.
When your parents started hanging around Wasuke and Yuuka, you were barely around. Out with friends, partying, studying. It makes sense that you never found out more about them. You didn’t even know their last name. They were just Wasuke and Yuuka. A quick “Hi, how are you doing?” And you're off running right after.
“Well, I think it’s a good thing we only just met. I mean, I think I was 16 when my parents and yours became friends. So you would have been…”
“24.”
“Ooo, yeah, it's definitely a good thing. My dad would have killed you.”
Yeah right.
“Well, since I’ve already sort of met them, it’ll be easy! Though you haven’t met mine, I’m sure they’ve heard a lot about you. This is good for us.”
Yeah, it is good. 
He’d hate it if it were a dynamic where the parents hated the girlfriend. 
Blah blah blah
But his parents have already said you’re a sweet girl, and only from brief moments. 
You just exude an energy that makes everyone love you. 
He grabs you, pulling you in for a kiss, then making his way to your side, opening the door for you. 
“M’lady.”
A shy giggle leaves your lips.“Good sir.” You place your hand in his, letting him pull you out of the passenger seat. Your lips meet his once again, but gently, since you don’t want to ruin your makeup again. 
“Let’s go.”
Sukuna holds you like he owns you. Many, many men here will want you. He knows it. You’re the best looking girl here. You walk in with Sukuna’s hand placed on your lower back, leading you inside the mansion. Your ears are blessed with a beautiful orchestra playing sweet melodies from another room, echoing the entire mansion. The decor, expensive, of course. And most importantly the snobby old money assholes with their snobby, somehow worse descendants.
“Can I get a drink before we find your parents?” You question.
His brows furrow slightly.
“I don’t want you to drink.” He tells you. 
You pout, sighing dramatically, “Oh… yeah, you’re right, that’s probably a bad idea.”
“I just want you to be safe, you get too… perky. I don’t want you attracting unwanted attention. And do you wanna be drunk around my parents? That’s not a good look. They like you already. Do you want to ruin how they view you?”
“No, of course not, never. I won’t drink anything.”
“Good girl.” He says, leaning down, kissing your bare shoulder. 
Walking through the sea of rich businessmen and women, he notices. He notices all of them staring at you like you’re a piece of meat. The way their eyes fall to your chest. Their tongues peeking out, licking their lips.
Disgusting.
And you don’t notice.
That’s a common trend for you.
You don’t see the things he sees. You don’t see these predators around you. Just like how you didn’t notice Jogo. You noticed Ren, but you let it happen for way too long.
Do you like this? 
Do you want their attention?
His eyes also fall to your chest. 
Maybe he should have given you a more modest dress, but you seem to like it.
It fits you… well…
He spots his parents sitting with God knows who, conversing about God knows what. 
Yuuka spots her gigantic son instantly, calling the two of you over.
“Sukuna, over here!” His mother calls out. She stands readying herself to greet the two of you, tapping her husband's shoulder vigorously to get up also. So, Jin has his mother's upbeat personality, and Sukuna has his father's. Wow, he even has the same blunt stare as him.
Yuuka pulls you into a warm, tight hug, kissing both sides of your face. “Who would have thought the first time we would properly speak with you would be with you as my son's girlfriend. How crazy is that?” She smiles. “You’re so beautiful.”
You shyly look away, thanking her.
“I got her outfit for tonight. Did I do well?”
“Fantastic, darling. Can I steal her for a moment?” She asks him.
He’s hesitant, but he trusts his mother with you. The two of you have the same personality, you’ll definitely get on well alone. 
“Don’t be gone too long,” he quietly tells you, kissing your lips. It more so sounded like a warning. He said he wanted you by his side the whole night, but if there’s anyone he can’t say no to, it’s his mother.
“I’m just taking her to get a few drinks.” 
Sukuna looks at you, waiting for you to tell her what he specifically asked you not to do tonight.
“Oh, uh, I’m not drinking tonight. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, nonsense, you got to loosen up a bit—.”
“Mom. Don’t pressure her.”
“Right, right, my apologies. Come, we’ll get you a juice or something.”
Yuuka takes you to a secluded balcony away from the party. You feel comfortable with her. 
Safe.
She’s a very kind woman. You’re glad Sukuna has such a lovely parent.
“Tell me how you met. I know you’ve known Jin for a little while, your parents told us about the school work at; it’s Yuji’s school!”
“Yeah, I teach at Yuji’s school right now. I love him and Jin, they're the sweetest. But Sukuna and I met at a park, it’s weird, he lives just five minutes away from me and we never crossed paths. All of this is just crazy. But I think we met at a good point in mine and his life.”
Yuuka softly hums, taking a sip of her drink. She looks at you, narrowing her eyes. “Does he act… okay?”
You copy her expression, confused as to what she’s asking you. “What do you mean?” 
“Oh, don’t mind me… It’s just— You know, he’s a lot like his dad. Quite hard headed, controlling. They like to lead. My Wasuke has grown with age, but I don't know if my son will.”
“He’s a good man, Yuuka, I promise. He practically saved my life earlier on in our relationship. He doesn’t act that way often.” You get where she’s coming from completely, but he’s too good to you. There’s no way he would act that way towards you— well, apart from earlier on, but that was completely your fault. You shouldn’t have provoked him. You let a man you used to have relations with into your home. You let him touch you, get close to you. That argument was on you. 
“Okay, I just want you to be safe. I see myself in you. I'm sad we’ve never spoken properly until now.” 
“I’m sorry, we can change that now, I hope?”
“Of course we can. I’d love for you to join us for dinner, with or without my brute of a son.” 
You both laugh with one another before heading back in to find both of your partners. 
“It’s been an hour,” Wasuke and Sukuna say in unison. 
Yuuka whispers in your ear, “I told you so.” Causing you to giggle. 
“You took too long. What did you talk about?” Sukuna hushly asks. 
“Just how you and I met. She also asked me to come over for dinner sometime. Maybe we can go next week before I start work again.” 
“I’ll think about it—.” 
Suddenly, a voice that Sukuna was hoping to avoid rings through his ears. 
Himiko. 
“Ahh! You made it!” She squeals before looking at her mortal enemy… Sukuna.
“Why are you with the Itadoris?” She questions, as she raises a brow.
“They’re Sukuna’s parents.”
Her eyes widened.
“…No way. Wow, you know I can see it now, looking at you. You look just like Wasuke.”
Sukuna sends her a condescending smile. She, of course, sends one back. 
“Why don’t you give him a tour, Himiko? It’s his first time here. ” Wasuke suggests. 
“Yeah, that’s a good idea, hon. Y/N, you stay with us!”
Sukuna’s head snaps to his mother, as she quickly pulls you and her husband away from him and… Himiko…
Great. 
It’s awkward to say the least. 
Being alone with Himiko. 
She’s shown him around just like his mother told her to. 
She’ll explain whatever room they’ve entered, and he'll grunt in response to her.  
And he hates the way his mother snatched you away from him. 
You’re not everybody’s to have. 
Only his. 
But he can appreciate the fact that she actually likes you, which could have been a worse outcome. 
“Sukuna.” 
He grunts once again, instead of speaking to her.
She stops walking, turning to him, getting up close and personal with him. He cringes at her, taking a step back, but she takes another step forward.
“I don’t like you.”
Sukuna's eyes roll righttt to the back of his head. 
“In fact, maybe I could say I hate you. I don’t think you’re a good guy, let alone a good guy for my best friend.”
He scoffs.
“The same best friend you left alone for her to almost get assaulted. I’m sure she thinks highly of you, Himi.” He mocks. 
Her smug expression fades instantly. “That was a mistake. And I won’t ever again. I care about her more than I care about myself. I love her.”
“Oh, trust me, I know you love her. But you don’t love her as a friend., do you? You want more than that from her.”
She says nothing. 
Not a peep. 
She doesn’t need to. He’s known for a long while that she loves you more than a “friend.” 
He’s seen a lot on those cameras at your place. The way she touches you. The way she looks at you. The things she buys you. The food she makes for you. She acts as if you’re a married couple.
Which you never will be, because you belong to him. 
Just him.
“You want me to tell her?”
“NO—no, don’t— do not say anything to her, that’ll ruin everything… What do you want?”
What he wants is for her to leave you the fuck alone. She takes up too much of your time. Always asking you to go places. To come over to hers or your place. It feels like she sees you more than him. It makes him feel… jealous. You should spend that much time with him. 
He’s your lover. 
Not her. 
Him!
“Me? What do I want? I just want my angel to be safe. Is she really that safe with someone like… you?”
“Yes! She has been my friend way longer than she’s known you, so don't think—.”
She stops herself, she realises she sounds like a lunatic, and he sounds reasonable. If you were to hear this conversation, you would side with him without a doubt. 
“Sorry.”
“Listen, I don’t want to have a bad relationship with my girlfriend’s friends.” Bullshit. “I want to marry her at some point in my life— Hell, she’s moving into my place soon. Himiko, this is a serious relationship.”
Oh.
Words can’t even leave her agar mouth. She’s shocked. Moving in? So suddenly. So soon. She would always ask you to move in with her, but you never budged. But you’re quick to do it with him? 
“Yeah, I‘m sorry, you’re absolutely right. Maybe we should head back.”
“I’m glad we had this talk. I hope we can come to some sort of understanding when it comes to her.”
“Yeah, me too.” She murmurs back. 
“Oh god, you didn’t kill each other, I'm glad!” You say jumping onto Sukuna’s wrapping your arms around him. You spotted the two approaching from afar, standing metres away from one another. 
“He told me you’re moving in together.” Himiko blurts out. 
You freeze, looking back and forth between the two. Trying to find your words.
Sukuna stares back at you intensely, telling you to say “Yes, Himiko.” 
And you do just that. “He thinks it’ll be good for us, and he’s right. I’ll feel much safer if he’s around more often.” 
“But you live in one of the safest condos in the city. And your area is safe too.”
“I know, but Sukuna lives five minutes from me, so it’s not like I’m moving to a new city or something, I’ll still be close by. I want this Himi.” You kissed Himiko's cheek, hoping to comfort your friend. 
She’s sad. 
Not annoyed or mad. 
She’s sad. 
He isn’t the good guy he makes himself out to be. He might be even worse than the other guys you’ve tried to date, but she really has a bad feeling about him, and she’s wasted her time complaining about all the other guys. She would have preferred if you dated them instead of Sukuna. 
“Well then, I guess all our sleepovers will have to be at mine from now on, unless you don’t mind me coming over, Sukuna?”
“Uh— sure.“
Obviously, he doesn’t want her in his home, but he can’t say no in front of you. 
The night has been long, but somewhat bearable. As soon as it was an acceptable time to depart, he practically threw you over his shoulder, running out the door. There’s a reason he’s never attended these gatherings. He’s the least sociable person you’ll ever encounter.
Before he met you, the only person he would call would be Toji. And even that was incredibly rare. This is the last time he comes to one of these; you included. You’re never coming here alone.
Anywhere, actually.
You’ll always be by his side.
Never too far away from him.
He can’t wait to have you living with him. You submitted to it so easily. What else will you submit to? He should test out this submissive trait of yours. See how far he can push it.
“We can start moving you in tomorrow, yeah? I’ll let your landlord know.” He stats
You open your mouth to say something. Maybe to object? But you stop yourself. Smiling and nodding your head.
“Okay, Sukuna.”
The corners of his lips dare to twitch into a smile. 
He’s got you now. 
Not like before, no. 
He has you in the palm of his hands.
Forever.
He’s never letting you go.
Ever.
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Authors Note: hmm hmmm hm im judging myself when it comes to this chapter but it’s fine ig… i used y/n again *faints* “woahhh levi!” sorry sorry sorry. i’m gonna time skip, not too far only like a month or two. erm… i think i was gonna say something else but i completely forgot. I GOT MY OVERWATCH ACCOUNT BACK EHEHE. i muted chat though so i don’t argue with people…. oh wait i think i remember what i wanted to say yes im writing this as im thinking. i’m going to uni in october to im gonna try my absolute best to finish this before hand because i know fo a fact i wont be able to finish this while im at school as well :( okay im finished now bye bye i hope you enjoyed ♡
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𝜗𝜚 Chapter Five | Chapter Seven
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hoeforalbedo · 1 year ago
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Dolly (Pt 2)
Human Alastor x Housewife!Reader
Pt 1, Finale
Tw: Murder, Forced Cannibalism, reader is described as a woman, dumbifying reader, mention of pregnancy, pregnancy.
Note: I guess I’m making this a series? I really want them to meet in hell. Also I really haven’t made it obvious bc I don’t want to erase Alastor being aroace. The way I see it, he’s kinda just toying with reader and grew obsessed once reader became a murderer.
———————————————————————
The morning after your delightful meal, you found yourself puking your guts out. The food did not agree with you at all. You wonder how Alastor’s body did not reject your food. Maybe it was all guilty’s conscience, but you’re not guilty for what you did.
Alastor holds your hair back, rubbing small circles on your back. “Oh my, what a way to start the morning. It makes me wonder if you’re perhaps pregnant.”
You shoot him a look, “Please do not say that, I beg of you.” No, you’re not pregnant, and Alastor knows you’re not pregnant. But if you are. . . That means you’re all to himself. You will have no choice but to depend on him even more. Even if you decided one day to leave him, you can’t. Nobody other man wants a tainted woman with children. Maybe one day he should get you pregnant.
Oh he absolutely knows that his dear wife has committed something awful and he’s proud of you, although he won’t admit it, yet. For now, he’s here to support you through the aftermath of your actions.
He could even recall his first kill, it was messy and uncoordinated, and the gore did not sit right with his stomach. But he hopes that his wife does not meddle in the business no longer. All you must do is sit pretty and be the doll you are. The sweet wife who cleans the house and cooks for him and cares for him dearly while being oblivious to the fact that your husband is out and about, killing many people.
But he’s curious. You might be just like him and the thought of that makes him want to grasp you in his hands tightly. To keep you all to himself and keep you away from anything that could take you away from him. At the same time, he wants to test you, push you further into insanity until there’s no more turning back and you’re addicted to the feeling of blood on your hands.
You’ve made a decision, you’re going to confess to Alastor. You can’t just keep him the dark about what you’ve done. “Alastor dear, so about Linda. . . I’ve. . .”
“No need to say more, ma cheri. I know.” He says, acting sympathetic towards you. He pulls you into a hug and you can’t help but burst into tears. He pats
“My dear, you’ve had such a bad morning so I believe you should go out and treat your pretty self with something,” He hums, combing your hair back.
“But-“
“I insist dear. Allow me to tend to the home and when you get back, you’ll be treated to a nice meal. How does that sound?”
Your lips pursed in thought. “Fine, but only because you insist.”
The phone rings.
“I’ll take that, mon cheri. Now I’ll allow you to get yourself all pretty and I’ll get you some money for you to spend.” He kisses your head and leaves you be.
———————————————————————
An outing is just what you needed, although it was not to relieve your nerves. You only felt guilt for having stained your hands with red. That matters not, anymore. Alastor says to relax and enjoy your outing and that is what you’d do.
Now that you’re out, Alastor prepares to go out. He puts his gloves, “I should prepare a freshly cooked meal for my dear wife. It’s about time I went hunting.” He hums to himself and leaves the house.
———————————————————————
The sound of chopping is heard through the kitchen. Chopped vegetables are put aside and Alastor is seen kneading a sort of meat. After he’s satisfied, he chops the meat and sets it aside.
“Let us see,” He says, squatting down to the body by the kitchen island. He reaches inside the abdomen, a squelch being heard as his hands move deeper. “Ah, there it is!” He says cheerfully as he cuts out the intestines.
After squeezing the contents out of the intestines, he looks up at the clock. “Oh dear me! It’s about time my dear Y/N comes home!”
It’s already 5 and he expects you to be home in about an hour.
He continues to grind away the other organs and meat before stuffing the intestines, making the sausages for the jambalaya.
After an hour has passed, you are back home. As you were about to reach for the handle, the door opened, revealing Alastor. “Welcome home ma cheri!” He greets you with a smile, pulling you in for a hug. You reciprocate and kisses his cheek. “What have you got there?” He asks, motioning to the bags.”
“Oh I’ve only bought a few dresses. Nothing out of the ordinary,” You shrug, putting the bags down.
“Then I should expect a show from you then, is that correct? Give me a little twirl in each dress?” His voice deepens as he tilts your head up to look at him.
“If that’s what my dear husband wants,” You say, almost as if you’re purring.
Alastor hums in approval and pulls your lips into a kiss. His arm around your waist, pulls you in, pressing your body against his. “Oh my pretty doll, you’ve got me all distracted.”
“And it is my fault?” She chuckles.
“Yes dear, it’s your fault for being so gorgeous, however I cannot complain about that. Come now, I’ve made jambalaya. Let us eat before it gets cold.”
You follow him immediately to the dining room. “How I love jambalaya. I’m grateful you’ve introduced me to one of your favorites.” You smile as you sat down. “You didn’t put shrimp?” You ask.
“I’ve decided to add some meat instead,” Alastor says, placing some food on your plate.
“Well anything you cook is delicious. I’ll enjoy every bite!” You beam.
The two of you continue to eat and chat. While doing the dishes, the door bell rings. “I wonder who that might be?” You say confused, not expecting any visitors.
Alastor goes to the front door and opens it with a smile. “Hello, how can I help you fine gentlemen?”
“We’re with the police, I’d just like to ask about your neighbors.” One of the officers say.
“Well of course!” Alastor remains to smile, however he is irritated, not that anyone notices.
“Who is it Alastor, dear?” You say, walking behind him. “Oh! Well hello officer!” You immediately put a bright smile. Alastor wraps an arm around your waist.
“Yes, you must be this fine gentleman’s wife. We’d just like to ask if you folks know anything about Mrs. Linda and perhaps Mr. Connor?” The officer asks.
“Connor? Well what could have possibly gone wrong?” Alastor says in confusion.
“Well officer, last night we got a call from dear Connor and just earlier before that, I believe during the afternoon, Linda paid me a small visit,” You answer.
“Is that so? Well ma’am, did she enter the home?”
“Yes she did. Just for a couple minutes though.”
“Anything in particular happened? Arguments, anything?” The officer pushes on.
“Oh of course not! Linda and I may only be acquaintances but I do not harbor such ill feelings for her.”
Alastor squeezes your waist, “You see, my dear wife is far too good for her own good. Far too oblivious to the world, but who can blame her. She’s a doll after all.”
You smile at the officers, looking very innocent.
“Why, I see why you married such a beautiful lady,” The officers chuckles. “Well did she say anything before she left?
“No sir. . . Well she did complain about how she suspects her husband of have a mistress,” You answer.
Alastor adds, “The couple do tend to have a tendency for infidelity. There’s neighborhood rumors of one of the kids not even being Connors’! It’s no surprise though. They say Linda sleeps with other men.”
You gasp, “You mean that man she was with that one day-!”
“Oh no need to worry your pretty little head about it. That is not our problem,” Alastor says.
“And the call you received from Mr. Connor?” The officer asks.
“Oh he just called to thank my dear wife for her generosity. She was kind enough to bake the family a pie. She’s a rather good cook,” Alastor answers with a smile.
“Well you see, both of the couples are missing and have left their kids unattended.”
“Oh that’s awful! Are they okay?” You ask with worry.
“They sure are. If you happen to hear anything about them, please do give a call, thanks for your time,” The officer nods and leaves.
After Alastor closes the door, you immediately broke into a sob. “They’re out to get me Alastor! They’ll get me!” You cling to him.
“My dear you won’t, I promise you they won’t. I’d do anything,” Alastor says in a hushed voice.
“I-I’m the last to have seen Linda and Connor! Now Connor is gone too! What if they think I am the one who killed him!” You cry hysterically.
“My dear, have you not seen yourself? No one would believe that a small thing like you could have possibly killed someone,” he reasons.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course dear.”
———————————————————————
“Must you really go, Alastor?” You plead, grabbing his hand.
“I’m afraid I cannot skip out on work today, mon cheri. But what if they get me? What if I can’t see you again?” You say with worry.
Alastor chuckles. Your clinginess used to be something that annoyed him but not finds adorable. “Remember what I said last night?”
You nod.
“So you’ll let me go right?”
You nod and let go of his hand.
“Good. Now I’ll be back later, my dear.” He kisses your forehead and walks out the door.
He in fact did not come home that night. He was found dead, a bullet to his head. You never landed on the suspect list, as Alastor was found to be the serial killer of New Orleans.
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potatoplace · 3 months ago
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Labyrinth: Nest
C3 | C4 : Nest | C5
Alpha!Feysand x Omega!Reader - A Backrooms AU
series masterlist | Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist | AO3 Link
Summary: Nothing feels quite right, until you're given everything you need to build the perfect nest. And even then, it can be a struggle.
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, light smut, dub-con cause Y/N is at the start of her heat
Words: ~3.1k
Author's Note: yaaaay I'm so happy to finally have another fun chapter of Labyrinth done!! This is pretty much just puuuure nesting fluff plus some smooching and uhhhh... well I'll just let you guys read 🤭 I hope you guys like this one!! Talk to me in the comments 😁
18+ only pls
🤍🩵💖💜🤍
You drifted in and out of sleep, snuggled in the arms of Feyre and Rhys. It was perfect somehow, with their scents and heartbeats filling your senses. One of their hands was running up and down your spine in a rhythmic motion, and you wanted to arch your back into it, but that would be so much work.
Every now and then your body went rigid when you felt like something was wrong, but that wonderful purr sounded in your ear and you would go limp once more.
You only woke up when you were shifted from being mostly on Rhys’s lap to entirely on Feyre’s, a long whine leaving you when you looked around, and he was nowhere to be found.
“Shh, omega, it’s okay. Rhys just went to grab some things for your nest,” Feyre whispered in your ear, and you went stiff in her hold.
Nest?
Feyre laughed fondly beneath you, pulling your against her more tightly. “That’s right, omega, your nest. You’re going to want to make it perfect soon, I’d imagine.”
You nuzzled your face against her neck, taking in a deep breath of her scent. “What’s a nest?”
“Ah, that’s right, you haven’t had a heat before, baby,” Feyre sighed. “A nest is what an omega builds for their heat, usually with a lot of blankets, pillows, furs - anything soft and comforting, really. And you’re so close to going into heat, I’m sure you must be dying for a safe nest to stay in.”
A contented sigh left you at the idea, of a safe, cushy nest to stay in with the two of them.
“With your alphas, of course we’ll join you in your nest, ‘mega.”
Turning your head to look at Feyre, you whispered, “Alpha?” A deep purr rumbled through Feyre and you collapsed against her, boneless from the wonderful noise. “Alpha,” you sighed.
Feyre stood from the couch a moment later, with you safely tucked in her arms, nose pressed to her neck. “That’s my omega, good girl,” she cooed as she brought you back into their bedroom, settling you on the large mound of furs. “So sweet for me.”
You hummed as you tugged her down, slotting your lips to hers.
What had gotten into you? You weren’t sure, but kissing Feyre, alpha, felt right.
Your lips parted, a breathy sigh leaving them when Feyre gently pushed you down, her body covering yours perfectly. Her soft lips met yours again, sure and confident as one of her hands cradled the back of your head. You melted into her hold, lips parting to let Feyre’s tongue dip inside.
“You got started without me, I see,” Rhys chuckled from the doorway, and you jerked away from Feyre as far as you could, her mouth finding its way to your neck instead. He dropped what he was holding on the ground, the large stack of pillows he’d been carrying falling on top of a pile of blankets, and next to it a pile of plush furs, similar to those you were laying on. “Oh, don’t stop because of me, omega,” he purred, violet eyes flicking to where Feyre’s mouth was latched to your neck, then back to your eyes.
Rhys turned, leaving the room, and you let out a loud keen at the sight, causing him to rush to your side a moment later.
“What is it, omega?” Feyre asked, her worried eyes trained on you as well.
A pout fell on your lips, but you didn’t answer. You didn’t know how to answer, other than you didn’t want Rhys to leave, but…
That was ridiculous.
“No, it’s not, omega,” Rhys reassured you, a large palm cupping the right side of your face. “You’re nearly in heat, and you need your alphas nearby. But don’t worry, I’ll only be gone for a few minutes. Feyre will keep gladly keep you company, I’m sure, or you could start working on your nest.”
You bit your lip but nodded, doing your best to ignore the uneasy feeling in your gut as Rhys left the room, heading somewhere off to the right. The whine that left you was unintentional, but you couldn’t help it.
“Do you want to start on your nest, love?” Feyre asked as she turned your away from the door and towards her with a gentle hand. “You’ll regret it if you don’t, I think. And look, Rhys brought in so many pretty fabrics for you to choose from!” She said cheerily, turning your head now to look at said offerings.
They did look appealing… And it couldn’t hurt to at least pick through the pile, right?
Feyre grinned and moved off of you, standing and pulling you up with her. She gently pushed you towards the piles, and that was all the permission you needed to plunge your fingers into fabric, finding the pieces that felt nicest against your skin.
Soft plush throws and swathes of silk were gently placed on the edge of the existing mound of furs as you searched the pile further, pleased as a peach when you found a thick, down comforter in a sage green - perfect to cover the base of your nest.
You set to it, laying the comforter down over as much of the pile of furs as you could before grabbing pillows, arranging them in a circle around the border of the blanket. From there you added a layer of blankets, making sure the layer was smoothed out.
It was then that you noticed both of your alphas were gone, tears instantly welling in your eyes as you looked through the doorway for them without moving from the pile of furs that you had been rifling through.
“Alpha?” you asked quietly, the tone of your voice pitiful, even to you. When no one answered, you fell forward into the pile, tears leaking onto furs as you cried at being alone again.
You didn’t think you could handle it.
“Hey, what’s this?” Feyre asked from behind you, and you shot up, looking to the doorway, where she was standing, Rhys and his massive wings lurking behind her. You sniffled, wiping away stray tears as she came to you, setting down the armful of pillows she was carrying before pulling you into her arms. “I’m sorry we left, ‘mega, we just wanted to get more nesting materials for you,” she explained as she wiped away one last tear that had fallen.
You pouted at her, annoyed that they’d left without telling you. “Don’t leave again,” you whined when Rhys turned to leave, stopping him in his tracks.
“I only have one more trip of things to bring you, ‘mega, I’ll be back in five minutes, maximum,” Rhys promised you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Hey,” he chuckled when you threw your arms around one of his legs, clutching to him for dear life. “This is very cute, but I will be returning in just a moment, and the sooner you let me leave, the sooner I’ll be back.”
Feyre helped him pry your fingers from his legs, your arms crossing over your chest defiantly as you watched him leave the room. Feyre attempted to coax you into working on your nest again, but you sat, staring resolutely at the door, waiting for your alpha to return. She wrapped her arms around your shoulders, the soft kisses she pressed to your neck and shoulder almost having you closing your eyes…
But you resisted, waiting for the moment your alpha walked back in, so that you could relax again,
And finish your nest.
It took Rhys at least fifteen minutes, or that’s what it felt like to you, to return to the room the three of you share, an armful of decorative pillows and extra blankets that he immediately deposited on the floor, quickly kneeling in front of you and pulling you against him. The soothing scent of citrus and sea washed over you, wiping away the anxiety that had been plaguing you while he was gone.
You were only vaguely aware of Rhys speaking to Feyre, and Feyre answering before Rhys gently separated from you, tilting your chin up with a strong finger. “Do you want to finish your nest now, omega?" he asked you, his midnight voice managing to pierce through the trance you were in. A nod and Rhys was smiling at you, and you smiled back, so happy that your alpha was happy with you. “Good girl, go ahead and finish up. Feyre and I will wait outside of your nest until it’s perfect for you,” he said, turning your head to look at the piles of nesting materials left for you to sort through.
“Take your time, omega, you want it to be perfect for your heat, so you’re as comfortable as possible,” Feyre added when you tried sifting through the pile of furs quickly, a sheepish smile on your face at being caught.
You took their advice to make it perfect, taking what you thought was an hour to arrange the nest to your exact liking. It looked perfect by the end of it, layer after layer of blankets, each layer separated at the outside by a pillow, making a nice, safe wall to protect you and your alphas.
The last layer was made entirely of different swathes of silk, in all the pretty jewel tones you loved - sapphire, amethyst, and emerald, making your nest pretty - though you weren’t sure how important it  was for a nest to look nice.
But it made you happier, that was for sure.
You sat back, looking at your nest. The decorative pillows you quickly moved so rest against the back wall of the nest, with two normal, extra fluffy pillows propping them up. Next you pulled the furs you wanted to use as blankets into the nest, an absolutely massive, snow white pelt and a slightly smaller, charcoal grey one. Other blankets… You looked at them, your lip curling in disgust.
No, your nest didn’t need those anymore.
What else is missing?
Your teeth worried your lip as you slowly spun on your knees, looking everywhere for what you were missing, before landing on the obvious.
“Alphas,” you whined pitifully, reaching your hands out to grab for them, so far away, outside of your nest and standing against the wall. “Please.”
That was all the permission they needed to cross the boundary of your nest, careful not to ruin your hard work. Rhys had you cradled against his chest a moment later, your legs hitched over the sides of his, the ends of his wings draping over the side of your nest.
“Did I make it too small?” you asked shyly as you looked up at him through your lashes, heat already beginning to build in your eyes when you thought of it not being perfect - you not being perfect, for them.
“Not at all, darling,” Rhys reassured you, pressing a kiss to both of your cheeks. “And you are perfect, Y/N, just the way you are.”
“Our perfect little omega,” Feyre cooed as she pressed herself against your back, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them. “Your nest is perfect, I promise, darling. It’s so beautiful, just like you.” She punctuated the sentence with a light nibble on the base of your neck, your body going boneless between them.
You hummed happily, basking in the feeling of being so safe between them, like nothing in this place could hurt you.
This place…
And then you were crying, salty tears leaking onto Rhys’s bare chest as you thought about home, about your things.
“What’s wrong, darling?” Feyre asked softly. You shook your head, not able to say it. “Just think it then, sweetheart, and we can figure out what to do. Can you do that for me, omega?”
You sniffled, but nodded, conjuring up an image of your room in your head, missing your stuffed yellow duck that you’d had since childhood. Not that you knew how they could see it but… This place is strange.
“Oh, ‘mega, do you miss your old room?” Rhys asked, tilting your face so you would meet his eyes. You bit your lip and looked away, not wanting to sound ungrateful…
“It’s not ungrateful, baby girl,” Feyre said. “You’ve had a lot of big changes recently, it’s normal to miss your old things. Do you want us to try to find something similar for you?”
“Not now!” you said, slightly panicked, grabbing Feyre’s hands to keep her exactly where she was.
“Of course, omega, not now,” Feyre agreed, leaning into your more heavily.
You settled back down, relaxing against Rhys again until you thought of your old room, all your soft, pretty blankets and cute stuffed animals, and oh, the silky nightgowns you owned that you would love to be wearing right now. But rubbing your fingers against the soft silks beneath you satisfied that need well enough, and the heat Feyre and Rhys were both radiating was enough to keep you warm.
And as soon as those deep, rumbling purrs made their way through Rhys’s chest, then Feyre’s, you fell limp against him, quickly lulled to sleep.
🤍🩵❤️‍🔥💜🤍
You woke some time later, an aching need coursing through you, and you pressed your hips down automatically-
Oh, you sighed to yourself, rocking your hips again, catching pleasantly on something hard beneath you. You let out a soft breath before continuing, slowly rocking your hips against the hardness beneath you, a fire lighting in your belly when arms wrapped more tightly around you.
The arms kept you from moving as much as before, but you managed to move your hips, your upper body limp against a strong chest as you continued chasing the sparks of pleasure you were creating.
You’d nearly crested when the body beneath you went stiff, relaxing a moment later, a whispered “omega” passing from his lips to your ear, your hips jolting at the title. Hands met your hips a moment later, pressing you more firmly, finding just the right angle to press your clit to -
You came with a cry, muffled by the tattooed skin of Rhys’s chest as he kept moving your hips, seemingly as desperate as you to drag out your pleasure.
Whether it was seconds or minutes later, you came around to the sound of Rhys and Feyre speaking softly, their scents headier than normal, and you breathed in a few deep lungfuls before you managed to crack open your eyes.
“That was quite the show, omega,” Feyre said breathlessly, her blue eyes sparkling as she looked at you. “I think you need to sleep on me next.” She shot Rhys a jealous look, but the smile on her pretty pink lips told you she wasn’t angry.
You puckered your lips a few times, making a kissy noise to try and entice Feyre.
“You don’t need to try to entice me, darling, you do it naturally,” Feyre giggled before leaning in, pressing her lips firmly to yours, tilting your head to get better access as her tongue slipped past your lips. A large hand ran up your spine and you shivered, arching your back slightly, pressing you into Rhys. Feyre pulled away, leaving you breathless as you tried rocking your hips again, only for your movements to be stilled this time. She smiled wide when you whined, answering, “You need to eat something before you go fully into heat, baby, can you do that for us?”
You tried pressing your hips down again, much preferring your chosen course of action, only for your movements to be halted once more.
“For your alphas?” Rhys asked with a deep rumble in his chest, and you whined again, a resigned noise. “Good ‘mega, so good for us,” Rhys said, nodding to Feyre to get food for you before he tilted your head to look at him. Your eyes flicked down to his lips, then back to his starry violet ones, and you could almost swear that you saw actual stars in them.
You were so entranced by his eyes that his lips pressing to yours surprised you for a moment, only to have you melting against him in the next. You let him explore your mouth, felt his hands grip your hips before moving to grasp your rear, just slightly rocking you against him once, but it was enough to have you gasping.
Feyre tutted at Rhys, lightly slapping one of his hands after she’d sat down, a bowl of stew in her lap. “We said food, Rhys,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. When you turned to look at her, eyes glazed with pleasure, she couldn’t help but smile. “Though she does look very pretty like this. Open wide for me, ‘mega,” Feyre demanded, your mouth opening automatically for a spoonful of hearty stew.
“You’re being such a good omega, and do you know what good omegas get?” Rhys asked you once you’d eaten half the bowl, your bites slowing as you grew fuller with each one. You shook your head, looking up at him in confusion. “They get their alphas’ knots, sweet girl,” he purred, angling his hips into yours in just the right way.
“Knots?” you asked after your next bite, looking at the stew still in the bowl warily.
“That’s right, baby, you’ll get our knots to keep you nice and full, for as long as you need,” Rhys answered, and you clenched around nothing just at the thought of being filled. “Just finish your food, and you can have our knots whenever you want.”
You huffed out a breath but did as he asked, carefully chewing and swallowing each bite that Feyre fed you until she had scraped the bowl clean. When she got up to place the bowl on the counter, you keened softly at the loss of her, far too far away, just being across the room.
“I know, omega, it’s okay,” she murmured when she returned, laying on her side, with a slight gap between her and Rhys. Though when Rhys turned carefully, moving you to lay down, you were fit snugly between them, a contented sigh leaving you. “See? Isn’t this better? All snuggled up with your alphas in your nest, with a warm belly full of food.”
You nodded in agreement - it was perfect, especially once Rhys had pulled the two spare furs you’d brought into the nest over the three of you, cocooning you entirely.
The hunger you had felt earlier had subsided, leaving sleepy contentment in its place as your alphas stroked your hair, both of them emitting quiet purrs that drowned out any noises, any thoughts that could keep you awake.
🤍🩵💖💜🤍
General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare @wrenisrad @icey--stars
Series Taglist: @kissesfromnovalie @rosecobollway @loving-and-dreaming
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vettelsvee · 29 days ago
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DRESS | Sebastian Vettel
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⋆ PAIRING: 2018 Ferrari Sebastian Vettel x Ex girlfriend singer!Reader ⋆ SUMMARY: A clumsy and unexpected proposal on New Year's Day is what you wouldn't have thought about after dating Oscar for almost five years ↳ Part of REPUTATION in MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT ↳ Part of GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET SERIES ⋆ WARNINGS: Smut (female and male receiving oral sex, 69 and missionary positions, dirty talking, Seb as the waiting for consent + aftercare king is a must), curse words. Ex lovers + hiding your daughter from Seb ☺️ ⋆ WORD COUNT: 3291 ⋆ VEE'S NOTES: Weekly updates: done ✅ It's been a very hard day for me mentally, so I hope at least to make yours entertaining with this! Hope you liked this one and, if so, let me know in the comments + reblogs are truly appreciated! Thanks for reading <3 ↳ LET'S TALK/REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST
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The elevator doors shut behind you quicklier than you'd expected. Maybe it was because the FIA Prize Giving Gala had ended way too soon for your liking, or maybe it was because the man standing beside you was clouding your thoughts, once again, in the best possible way.
Or at least, that’s what you tried to believe.
Sebastian leaned casually against the mirrored wall, while you stood facing him, one hand clutching your purse, the other brushing nervously over your bare collarbone. You knew the maroon dress you wore, backless, with a daring slit that showcased your legs and hugged your curves in all the right places, had achieved exactly the effect you wanted it to have: he hadn’t taken his eyes off you all night.
And now, it was you who couldn’t stop staring at him, your gaze flitting shyly to the mirror, catching glimpses of his reflection.
“You’ve been watching me all night. Hope you know I noticed,” you finally dared to say in a quiet voice, after mulling it over for far too long.
“I couldn’t help it,” he replied.
You smiled.
“You never could, Seb.”
Those few words were enough to tighten the air between you. The elevator kept ascending, perhaps slower than you imagined and quicker than you wanted, and the space felt smaller by the second. And you knew exactly why… or rather, who was making you feel that way, even if you weren’t ready to admit it aloud.
“You haven’t even asked why I decided to reach out again after… you know.”
You took a hesitant step toward him, your body language anything but unsure now, completely ready to let happen whatever needed to happen between you both.
He stepped forward too, his eyes drifting down your body, taking you in just as he had all evening, without apology, without care for who might be watching.
“I don’t care why,” he said hoarsely. “I’m just glad you did.”
“Really?”
Your gaze dropped to his lips, and it was all the encouragement he needed. He reached out and brushed his fingers along your jaw, tilting your face gently toward his until he kissed you, leaving you no room to resist. You kissed him back, hungrily, exactly as you’d imagined ever since you arrived together at the gala… or maybe since your ex asked you to accompany him that night.
Seb’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you into him. The heat of his body through the thin silk of your dress made you moan softly into his mouth, and you wondered how you had managed to go six years without this, without him. Without Sebastian Vettel.
You were so wrapped up in him that you didn’t notice your purse fall to the elevator floor. Your hands were tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.
By the time the elevator chimed on the floor Seb had his room, he had you pressed against the mirrored wall, his thigh between yours, your lipstick smeared across his mouth, both of you breathless and flushed.
Neither of you spoke as you stumbled down the hallway toward his suite, like you had already agreed, without words, what was coming next. The only sign of your mutual decision was the way your fingers found his, lacing together timidly, as if seeking permission to move forward.
Seb fumbled with the keycard, his hands slightly shaky, until the lock finally blinked green. He let you enter first, and you rewarded him with a chaste kiss and a playful tug on his tie, your silent way of telling him just how desperate you were to feel him again… to have him the way you used to.
The door hadn’t even clicked shut before he pulled you into his arms again and kissed you like it might make up for all the years he hadn’t.
“I love this dress…” he murmured between kisses, his fingers tracing the slope of your waist.
“To be honest… I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry, your eyes locked on his apparently with no trace of the earlier shyness.
Your words struck something deep within him, and you knew exactly what it was when his hands moved to the zipper, slowly drawing it down, agonizingly slow, before you could say anything else. The fabric pooled around your feet, revealing black lace lingerie, transparent in all the places he longed to taste. 
Seb swallowed hard.
“So you knew exactly what you were doing…”
His voice was barely a murmur, but it had the exact effect you craved. He left a trail of kisses along your shoulder, down to your collarbone, and then the gentle curve of your breasts. You slipped off his jacket, your trembling fingers unbuttoning his shirt while your lips explored every familiar inch of his skin.
By the time you reached the bed, you were breathless. You lay back and, as he knelt before you, instinct took over: your legs parting, still in your heels, and your panties still on, but barely.
A low, aching pressure stirred deep in your stomach as he began to kiss the inside of your thighs slowly, possessively.
“I’ve been thinking about this for years, just letting you know,” Seb said softly.
“Then stop thinking,” you whispered, arching your back as his breath teased you through the thin lace, “and make it real.”
“So bossy…”
His hands hooked under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed. He pressed a kiss to your center, still through the fabric, eyes locked on yours as he slipped your panties off and began to devour you.
Your moans filled the room.
Seb started slowly, savoring every moment. His tongue first flicking your clit, then flattening against it. You couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t stop the needy sounds escaping your lips. Your hips moved toward him instinctively, chasing more of the delicious friction, and your hands found his hair, needing to keep him right there, where his mouth, his fingers, his love, had always belonged.
When he finally slid one, then two fingers inside you, curling them expertly just as he used to, you knew there was no turning back.
“Fuck, Seb, don’t stop…” you whispered, voice ragged from the moans spilling uncontrollably from your lips.
Seb groaned into you, his fingers still working you open from the inside, his tongue moving with a rhythm that was anything but accidental. He was so turned on now. Your voice, your body, the way you responded to him… his cock strained painfully against his boxers.
You started to tremble, every muscle in your body tightening. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, and Seb knew it too. He applied just the right pressure to your clit, while his fingers shifted from speed to precision, hitting that one perfect spot that had always been your undoing.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing against your skin, never letting up. “Come for me…”
You shattered moments later, crying out his name the way you had so many times before, when you were together, when you were alone, fingers between your thighs, thinking only of him. Sebastian didn’t stop until you collapsed back against the bed, soaked and spent.
“You’ve no idea how much I missed having you on my tongue,” he whispered, kissing you right where he’d just tasted you.
You laughed breathlessly, pulling him up to kiss him again.
“I hope you’re not finished,” you murmured, arms around his neck. “Because I don’t think I’m done, Seb.”
Once again, you pulled him into another kiss, one you knew you’d regret because if you were addicted to anything, it was him.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” you whispered against his lips, nibbling gently at the lower one. “Still obsessed with making me come first, huh?”
“And I want you to come again,” he smirked. “You know what they say… old habits die hard.”
You raised an eyebrow, your fingers gliding down his chest until they hooked into the waistband of his boxers. He was still wearing them, though the evidence of his arousal was obvious.
“Wanna taste me again, huh?”
“No,” he said, his voice a growl. “I want to feel you falling apart with my cock in your mouth.”
“So… your favorite position, huh? Like you said, old habits…”
“Are you offering?” Seb asked, challengingly.
“No, Seb,” you purred, flipping him onto his back in one smooth move that even he hadn’t seen coming. “I’m proposing it. There’s a big difference, love.”
You straddled him, leaving a trail of kisses down his chest while your fingers toyed with the waistband of his underwear. You locked eyes with him as you slowly undressed him, freeing his cock: hard, thick, and utterly gorgeous.
“Still as beautiful as ever…”
You wrapped your fingers around it, stroking slowly at first before lowering your head to tease the tip with your tongue circling, licking, before taking him into your mouth, inch by inch, until it hit the back of your throat.
Seb groaned through gritted teeth, his hips bucking involuntarily, hands tangling in your hair as he watched, completely entranced.
You didn’t rush. You took your time: swirling your tongue, hollowing your cheeks, pulling back just enough to breathe, then diving back in again.
“Shit, baby… that mouth…” Seb gasped, barely holding it together.
You pulled away with a wicked smile, still stroking him slowly.
“You still want me to come again?”
Seb nodded, breathless.
“I want to hear you choking on my cock while you scream my name, darling.”
“Then let’s make it a win-win for my boy..”
Like you'd done many times before (and clearly, it was like muscle memory), you moved with fluid precision, swinging a leg over his chest and aligning your soaking center right over his face, locking you into a perfect 69 position.
Seb didn’t hesitate. His hands gripped your thighs and he pulled you down onto his mouth, tongue diving between your folds without wasting a second. You couldn’t hold back the moans, not with his cock in your mouth, not with the way he licked and sucked your clit, not with the way his fingers slid inside you again, expert and relentless.
Sebastian Vettel was fucking you like it was the only thing he knew how to do, though, of course, you knew he was capable of far more. In response, you took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, tongue working as his groans vibrated against your core.
“Fuck, babe… just like that…”
Your thighs began to tremble again, squeezing around Seb’s head, though he didn’t seem to mind at all. Your breathing was ragged, your mouth tightening around his cock, every nerve in your body alight. Your moans and his blended together in desperate harmony.
You had to pull away for a moment, panting, trying to stretch out the inevitable. Trying not to come too soon.
“I’m close, Seb…”
“Then let go, darling.”
And you did so.
The orgasm ripped through you, a tidal wave crashing over every nerve ending. You screamed his name again as your thighs clamped around his face, your hips grinding against his mouth, against his nose. Seb didn’t stop for a second, devouring every bit of your pleasure until you collapsed, trembling, on top of him.
Even as you caught your breath, as the intensity of your orgasm ebbed, you didn’t stop. You returned to his cock, slower now, savoring every pulse of it, every drop of precum on your tongue, until he finally came in your mouth.
You swallowed it all.
You took all of him as you lay back down beside him, both of you covered in sweat, breathless.
Seb pulled you into his arms, and you could feel his still-hard cock pressed between your thighs, which made you even wetter.
“You’re gonna kill me,” he laughed, kissing your forehead.
“Then I guess you’ll die happy,” you smiled, running your fingers through his hair.
You didn’t know what else to say. You didn’t expect what had just happened between you two, even though you’d been wanting it ever since you saw Seb again. You knew this had caught him by surprise too, but you hoped, you really wished, he wouldn’t regret it.
Your cheeks flushed as your mind began to process what had just happened with your ex… and the father of your daughter, who he still didn’t know about. The fact that he was now tracing the sun tattoo along your ribs didn’t help either.
“You’re still hard,” you said, trying to break the silence that was slowly killing you. Seb didn’t seem to catch your meaning at first, so you pointed at his dick. “Did I not make you come enough?”
“Not even close. Seems like you don’t know me, love.”
Seb propped himself up on one elbow, watching you. He didn’t say anything at first. After a few seconds, he took your chin in his hand and brushed his thumb over your lower lip.
“I want to see you,” he said in a low voice, with a confidence you hadn’t seen in him in a long time. “I want to see you fall apart for me.”
You knew exactly what he meant. Instinctively, you shifted to the center of the bed and started touching yourself slowly, not even caring that Seb was watching you while devouring you with his eyes.
“I want your legs around me. I want to feel your nails digging into my back. I want to see every second of how you lose control over me.”
“Then you better fuck me hard, Vettel.”
That unraveled something inside him.
He moved you completely to the center of the bed. Then he leaned in and kissed you fiercely, biting your bottom lip and sucking on your tongue before pulling away. He grabbed the condom you’d left on the nightstand without needing to be told, and rolled it on.
You sighed in relief. The last time you had sex with him you didn’t use protection, and even though you were on the pill, the result had been a beautiful little girl named Emily who was now four years old now and, to no one’s surprise, looked exactly like Seb.
Your ex pulled you from your thoughts when he took your chin and kissed you again.
“Don’t say that kind of shit unless you mean it, baby.”
You swallowed hard, trying not to let the intrusive thoughts eat you alive in that moment.
“Seems like you don’t know me, Seb. I was born ready for you,” you finally said.
Seb positioned himself on top of you, gripping your thighs and pulling you down with a force that made you moan in surprise. He slid between your legs, aligning his cock with your entrance and leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours.
“If at any point you don’t feel okay, if I’m being too rough, or if you just don’t want to go on… tell me, okay?”
“I only want you, Seb. I’ve always wanted you.”
And I always will, despite everything, that was what you didn’t say.
That was the only cue Seb needed. He drove into you with one deep thrust.
You both cried out. You threw your head back, letting it fall against the mattress, mouth open in pleasure at the feeling of every inch of him filling you. Seb moaned into your neck, his hands on either side of your head as he began thrusting again and again, deeper and more deliberate, making your legs tremble.
“Fuck… Seb…” you moaned, digging your nails into his back.
“You feel— God, you feel so fucking good, darling. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you…”
You closed your eyes, trying to stay focused and not let yourself go too fast, trying to enjoy the moment. Seb, however, couldn’t stop looking at you. Your breasts bounced in rhythm with his thrusts. Your body trembled under his.
“Look at me.”
Seb’s demand made you force your eyes to stay open, locking onto his gaze, his pupils blown wide with lust.
“That’s it,” he groaned. “Let me see how I make you come for the third time today…”
He thrust into you even harder, even deeper. You gasped between moans, and kept scratching at his back, holding onto him as if letting go meant losing him entirely.
“Harder, Seb,” you screamed when you felt him hit that spot that made you completely lose it. “Don’t stop, don’t stop— Fuck!”
Seb gritted his teeth, sweat dripping from his temples as he pounded into you over and over. His right hand slid to your clit, rubbing it gently, giving you even more pleasure.
“Say my name,” he demanded, desperate.
“Sebastian,” you cried out, hips jerking. “Fuck, Sebastian, I’m gonna—”
“Come for me, sunshine,” he growled. “Keep going… You got it, babe… Show me how good I make you feel…”
You screamed as the orgasm tore through you, intense and uncontrollable. Your entire body tensed, wrapping around Seb with your arms and your thighs, holding him tight to make sure he came too. He lost control a few thrusts later, the way your pussy clenched around him was the final trigger, just as you knew it would be. His hips snapped against yours, burying himself deep with a groan against your neck.
He then pulled away carefully from you, planting a soft kiss on your forehead and, then, kissing you deeply on your lips before finally getting out of bed. He made his way to the bathroom, threw the condom in the trash and soaked a towel in warm water just for you. When he returned, he flopped down beside you, kissed you once more, and gently began to clean you up after you gave him a small nod of permission.
“You okay?” he asked softly, almost shyly, once he was done and lay beside you again, brushing the damp strands of hair off your forehead.
“Yeah, yeah…” You were unsure now, and he could sense it, but you didn’t want him to notice. “So this is your idea of having sex after an important Formula 1 gala? I thought we weren’t in our twenties anymore,” you joked, trying to change the subject.
“To be honest, I’m only brave enough to act like this with you. Though, if you want, we can try a different kind of sex next time… maybe more kinky, or would you prefer the soft, romantic one?”
After he let those words leave his mouth he went silent. You didn’t know what to say either because you knew he regretted saying that because of what it implied.
Not just that you'd see each other again, something that had already happened more than once, but that you might end up… doing this again, if you could even call it just sex anymore.
However, you both didn’t let overthinking get over you, so you let it go.
Your hand rested on his stomach. His left arm was around you, holding you close like he wanted to protect you and never let go. He tickled you, and you just laughed and begged him to stop, then buried your face in his chest and raised it again just enough to kiss him.
And just like that, the rest of the night passed, as if six years of being apart after breaking up and a secret shared daughter had never changed your lives.
“I missed this,” you whispered after pulling away from one of those kisses. “I missed you, Seb.”
“I missed you too, sunshine. But the important thing is, we got to meet each other again. And now, I swear I’m not going to let you go.”
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silksongeveryday · 9 months ago
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Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 600!
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Here’s a quick 30 min doodle to celebrate! :D
Man time really flies huh
Thank you guys for 3.1k btw!!!
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And big thank you to those who have joined me in this wild journey of daily doodles no matter how long you’ve been here. Truly did not expect what started as a joke to make it this far lol
(more stuff I wanted to talk about under the cut)
-A few updates-
General Stuff:
Well, life has been generally pretty busy. And while that’s made it a little more challenging to do daily doodles as of late, it’s been alright for the most part. Some of you may have noticed though that a lot of my daily posts have been showing up as much as 1-2 hours later than the regular time. Unfortunately with all the stuff I’ve been taking care of lately, putting a daily doodle/drawing on top of the pile means it’ll be late very often. I kind of have an unofficial job irl now so this stuffs hard to juggle sometimes.
Hornet’s Strange Adventures:
Initially I was hoping to get a lot of stuff done for this game during October but some recent job stuff is making that pretty hard to do. I probably won’t be able to make any significant progress on this game until very late October and into November. So if you were looking forward to big updates on progress, it sadly won’t be for a while, sorry. Outside of that though, I can at least say that all the routes have been thoroughly planned out from start to finish including the secret route. This includes rewriting some choices that have already been seen during the game’s time on ssed.
About Doodle Requests
I haven’t had them open for a while anyway, but I’ve finally come to the decision that I will no longer be taking doodle requests through tumblr asks/inbox. As fun as it was in the beginning, I often found myself trying to fulfill requests on the daily and that was stressful. That being said, it doesn’t necessarily mean I’m stopping requests entirely. I just don’t really want to do them for free anymore. Since I’m on Hornet Journal Series still, it’s a long way away before anything happens, but there’s a likely chance I’ll only do commissioned doodle requests whenever they re-open. We’ll see as it gets closer though.
Thoughts on taking an actual break:
I’ve mentioned this a lot in the past both here on ssed and on my main blog, but I’ve been seriously considering taking a break. Like a real one. Not just a “I’m gonna stockpile a bunch of doodles and pick it back up when I run out” kind of break. Especially with the way life has been going lately (mostly positive at least), I feel as though I may have to retire from daily doodles somewhat soon if there is no official news by the time this blog hits its 2 year mark. Don’t get me wrong I’ve loved doing this for the almost two years that it’s been going but at some point I’ll have to move on from this whether I like it or not. Does this mean that activity on this blog stops altogether? No. I just won’t be doing daily doodles anymore. There’s a more likely chance it would end up being weekly, or possibly monthly. Just not daily anymore.
Whatever the case, that decision will be considered more when 2 years gets closer. Until then just enjoy daily doodles while they’re still here!
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I think that’s all I can think of to say right now. Might post more thoughts on my main maybe?? We’ll see
Thank you again to all the lovely people that have been here during this crazy journey, you guys are awesome :D
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marvelstoriesepic · 8 days ago
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❤︎ Hi loves, a little update ❤︎
I just wanted to pop in and say I’m so sorry for being MIA this past week. Life is a bit busy right now, and will be for at least the next two weeks, and it’s made it really hard to get into writing lately. I know I’ve been quiet (and I have so many messages, comments, and reblogs to react to), but I truly appreciate you all for sticking around and being patient with me.
The poll from two weeks ago wrapped up, and I wanted to thank you for voting! The wip with the most votes was my Pirate!Bucky x Fairy!Reader series, which makes me so happy to see you’re excited for. I definitely plan to focus on it, but I also want to be honest - it’s a series, and that means it takes time, and I really need to get back into the world and headspace for it. I started it a while ago, and lately, I just haven’t found the right spark of inspiration or motivation to dive back in fully. Also, I plan to complete the series first and then start posting it. It’s just less stressful for me that way.
I have also been slowly finishing a new little fic for my A Window Open to the Moon series, but I’ve been dragging me through the editing process, the banner-making, and the whole post-reading part of things and I am yet to finish. I don’t even know where this lack of energy to write came from, but I am truly sorry y’all. I do want to share these stories with you, but my brain and energy just haven’t been cooperating lately.
For the same reasons, I haven’t been able to continue working on part two of Your Ghost Knows Me (which I have named Where the Soldier Sleeps) even though I truly want to, and I will get back to it when I can. It means so much to me that you’re excited for these stories, and I am trying my best to get everything out in time, even if it’s slow.
Thank you, from the deepest depths of my heart, for being here, for your excitement, your kindness, and your understanding while I move through this season of low energy and slow progress. You truly make this space feel safe and soft, and I am endlessly grateful for you ❤︎❤︎
To hopefully make up for the silence, I’ll be dropping a snippet for each of these three wips as a little treat, to thank you for your patience and to share a piece of what’s coming when I’m ready to post them fully.
Where the Soldier Sleeps:
When the turbulence bumps the jet slightly, your shoulder jerks and his hand is there instantly. Firm. Sure. His fingers grip your wrist, then your waist, then your arm again. Just checking. Making sure you’re in one piece.
He doesn’t say anything.
But his eyes are dark and he only lets go when he’s satisfied you’re unharmed.
A Window Open to the Moon fic:
He then watches Alpine - sweet, nosy, manipulative Alpine - as she rubs up against his ankle and then immediately looses interest, padding off to lie dramatically in the sunbeam on the floor as though she is done with both of you. Probably is. Probably thinks you’re idiots.
“She’s gonna get fat if you keep feeding her like this,” you state plainly.
“She’s emotionally complex,” he mutters, but his voice sounds far away.
There is something hanging in the air now. Something heavy and slow, like a fog rolling in off the coast of a conversation you weren’t ready to sail into.
Pirate!Bucky x Fairy!Reader series:
A deep breath is sighed into the air. Weariness weighs it down, makes it sound heavy. With an unpleased coil of his shoulders, Bucky lowers you back into the cage and sets you down onto the cushion of his glove with a gentleness completely at odds with this world he is living in.
The latch clicks back into place. Steve makes sure it sits the way it should.
“Y'know,” Sam starts, a smirk tugging at his lips, though his voice is rather light. He leans in slightly, lowering his back to be level with you where you’re sitting in the cage that Steve is holding. “For what it’s worth, we ain’t the bad guys, little twinkles. I mean, sure, we’ve done some things - some questionable things - but our high and mighty Captain here-” he jerks a thumb toward Bucky, keeping his eyes on your trembling form, “-he doesn’t go soft for just anyone. For nobody, really. Never happens.” His grin is easy and earnest. Even amused.
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dreamwritesimagines · 1 year ago
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The Eye of the Hurricane [13] - Cupcakes
A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️
Summary: There are many ways to plan a wedding.
Word Count: 2500
Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Violence, stabbing, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
Series Masterlist
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Apparently, the fact that you had been in a car chase with bullets flying around last night didn’t change the fact that you had to go cake tasting the next morning.
Even if you were in desperate need of some sleep.
Bucky had brought you back into the honeymoon suit last night and put around twenty bodyguards in the hallway before leaving, and even if you wanted to go with him to question the captives, you were way too tired to do so. Since he was nowhere to be found in the suit after you woke up, you figured he had gone to his apartment instead of here after he was done. You heaved a sigh as you filled your cup with coffee, then walked to sit down on the couch and pulled your phone up to check the schedule for the day. Taking a sip of your coffee, you sent a quick text to Becca, and looked over your shoulder when you heard the door open.
Bucky offered you a small smile as he stepped into the hotel suit, and you tilted your head.
“Hey,” you said. “I was wondering where you were.”
“Hey,” he rasped out, exhaustion laced in his tone and you frowned slightly.
“Why do you look like you haven’t slept last night?”  
Bucky shook his head, making his way to the coffee pot before grabbing a cup from the cabinet.
“Because I haven’t—” He stopped talking when he looked down at the red fingertip stains on the white porcelain cup he was holding, then cursed under his breath and went to wash his hands in the sink. You took a better look at him, now noticing the blood on his clothes and pulled back slightly.
“Bucky?”
“Not my blood,” he said. “I was uh—we were questioning the guys.”
“The whole night?”
“Mm hm,” he said, wiping his hands with a paper towel before grabbing another cup to pour himself some coffee. You leaned back to the kitchen island, cradling your cup in your palms.
“You should get some rest.”
“No time for that,” he said, taking a huge sip of his coffee. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and go to work. How do you feel? Could you get some sleep last night?”
“Are you trying to divert the subject?”
“Yeah, is it working?”
“No,” you deadpanned. “You need to sleep.”
“Sleep is for the weak,” he joked, making you roll your eyes at him.
“Bucky.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I don’t,” you said quickly. “I don’t worry about you as a principle. It’s just that if you get sick because you haven’t slept or whatever, we’ll have to postpone the wedding and I know you haven’t met our wedding planner but she is not the type of person you cross.”
“Noted,” Bucky said. “Do you have any plans today?”
“I’m going cake tasting with Becca,” you said. “So did the guys say anything?”
“One of them will, eventually,” Bucky said. “We’re being very convincing.”
You hummed.  “Do you have a preference?”
“In weapons?”
You blinked a couple of times.
“In cakes,” you said. “Flavor wise.”
“Ah,” he said. “Sorry, my mind is still at the warehouse. Anything but banana.”
“Very helpful,” you muttered. “You don’t have a favorite flavor in cakes?”
“Not really, I’m good with all of them—” he started but his phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, then his eyes skimmed the lines before he let out a groan.
“What?” you asked and he rubbed at his eyes.
“I forgot I had a meeting with Stark,” he said and cleared his throat. “Great, okay. So doing wedding stuff today then?”
“Yeah I gotta take a shower and get ready, but I can wait. You’re the one who looks like a horror movie killer.”
He grinned. “You know, if you ever wanted to save water…”
“You’re about to pass out from exhaustion and you can still make sex jokes?” you asked with your brows raised and he shrugged his shoulders.
“I have my priorities,” he said. “So if you—”
“That will never happen,” you pointed out. “Go.”
He held up his hands.
“Okay, okay…” he said as he climbed the stairs and you shook your head slightly when you heard the bathroom door close.
“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, taking another sip of your coffee. “Can’t believe I’m marrying him.”
                                             *
When you planned this cake tasting with Becca, you were sure it would be fun for you but safe to say, Becca’s mood wasn’t the best after last night. When you first talked about it, you had said Leila could join as well but since she wasn’t here, you could only guess they had a big talk last night, after the car chase incident.
“So,” you said as you sat down and grabbed the nearest cupcake, then read the label that informed you that it was walnut and carrot. “How have you been?”
“Fine,” Becca said, turning the cupcake in her hand and you pressed your lips together.
“How is Leila after last night?”
“Uh, she went to work,” Becca said, still staring at her cupcake. “And hasn’t texted me yet so I wouldn’t know.”
“Did she say anything last night?” you asked as you bit down on the cupcake, then shook your head and put it aside while Becca heaved a sigh.
“Yeah we talked.”
“And?”
“She says—I mean obviously she was terrified but she kept saying it wasn’t my fault.”
You hummed. “But you don’t believe her.”
“Well she has been in zero car chases with bullets flying around before she met me, so…” Becca trailed off and you reached out to hold her hand.
“Becca…”
“She’s going to leave me,” Becca said and cleared her throat. “You know what, she should leave me. That’s the right choice there.”
“Becca!”
“I never thought I’d say this, but maybe mom was right.”
You rolled your eyes. “I love Winnifred, but I wouldn’t take her advice on romance.”
“No no,” Becca said. “She kept saying this life is no fit for civilians, and she’s right.”
“You’re not even officially in the business,” you told her. “I mean I can see why being with a civilian would put them in danger if you’re one of the bosses, but you’re not. You don’t even want to be.”
“It doesn’t matter though,” Becca insisted. “I put my girlfriend in danger—”
“HYDRA put your girlfriend in danger,” you said. “And everyone is fine except those guys. I don’t know where Bucky took them but—”
“The usual warehouse.”
“Ah,” you said. “Well apparently he questioned them all night last night, so I can assure you that we’re taking revenge.”
“My girlfriend’s safety is more important to me than revenge,” she said and you pulled back slightly.
“Right,” you said. “No I know. But they’re never going to hurt anyone else, I assure you. And Leila is safe.”
She pursed her lips together and shut her eyes before squeezing at your hand.
“Sorry if that came out snappy.”
“No I get it,” you said. “Trust me.”
“It’s just…” she muttered and swallowed thickly. “Is this going to be the rest of my life? Always looking over my shoulder and worrying I might get someone killed?”
“Of course not,” you said in a rush. “No way. We had truce so far and it never happened before right? It’s just until we get rid of these assholes that we need to be extra careful, that’s all. After that, it will all be fine.”
She scoffed a small laugh.
“You sound like Bucky.”
“That might be the worst thing you ever said to me throughout our friendship,” you deadpanned and she let out a giggle.
“He looked pretty worried last night.”
“I mean I’d say so, you’re his little sister—”
“No no, for you,” she said. “We had a talk when he took me and Leila home.”
You pulled your brows together and shook your head.
“No way, Bucky doesn’t worry about me,” you said. “Why would he?”
Becca blinked a couple of times, and opened her mouth then closed it again to lean her fist on her lips, as if trying to control herself.
“Because we’re picking cakes for your wedding right now?”
“Oh yeah but that’s the only reason,” you said. “If I get killed, he will have to do business with Ian and he won’t do it so… It’s in his self-interest rather than my wellbeing.”
“I can’t believe I used to accuse Bucky of being oblivious.”
“Hm?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Okay so, my relationship issues aside, let’s pick the perfect cake for you and my brother’s wedding that is completely pragmatical on both sides, nothing more.”
You nodded fervently, then turned to look at the table.
“Not the bananas though, apparently he doesn’t like banana flavor in cakes.”
Becca raised her brows and tried to bite back a smile.
“Right. Uh huh.”
“Anyways,” you said and grabbed the next cupcake. “Let’s do a pragmatical cake tasting then.”
                                                        *
By the time you were done with everything you were supposed to do, it was already evening. You and Becca had picked two cakes but you couldn’t be sure so you had asked the bakery to give you a box of them so that you could get Bucky’s opinion as well.
Even though the idea of making his slice banana flavored just to mess with him was tempting, you were going to play nice.
Well, as nice as you could.
You pulled over in front of the warehouse and left the car with your bodyguards following you. Bucky’s men rushed around as soon as they saw you walking there with the small bag thrown over your arm, and one of them opened the door to no doubt let Bucky know. You smiled at the men by the door.
“May I?”
“Of—of course ma’am,” one of them said, opening the door for you and you stepped inside to see Bucky approaching the door.
“Charm?”
“Hi there,” you said looking around the warehouse. You had been here a couple of times while you were still the heir, and it looked as huge as you remembered. You could see the tied up figured on the chair far away in the room as the familiar scent of blood hit your nostrils, and you scrunched up your face before turning to Bucky’s men. “Could you leave us please?”
They turned to look at Bucky who nodded, so they all left one by one, leaving you with him and the tied figure that almost looked unconscious. Bucky went to the table to grab a towel so that he could wipe his bloodied hands.
“What are you doing here?”
“Wedding stuff,” you said, putting the bag on the table to open the small cardboard box. “I’m supposed to let them know tonight about which flavor we picked, and I figured I wouldn’t have the time if you decide to spend the whole night here again.”
“Okay but—”
“Also what kind of a question is that? We’re getting married and I can’t visit you at work, asshole?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Here,” you cut him off by pushing a piece of cupcake into his mouth before he could say anything else and he pulled his brows together as he chewed on it, obviously deciding that arguing with you was useless.
“This is amazing,” he said. “What is this?”
“Lemon coconut,” you said as you tore a piece of the other cupcake in the box while he nodded.
“We can go with this one—”
“No so fast buddy, try this too,” you said, pushing the piece of the other cupcake into his mouth again and he chewed on it, deep in thought.
“And this?”
“Chocolate blueberry.”
“Fuck, this is a hard decision.”
“I know right?” you asked while the guy tied to the chair let out a whine. “I’m more leaning towards lemon coconut but…”
“Yeah no, chocolate blueberry is delicious too—why don’t we have two cakes?”
“Because the cake is symbolical Bucky!” you whispered while the guy let out another groan. “This marriage is going to require us to take some decisions about business together, how are we going to do that if we can’t decide on—shut it asshole!”
Bucky looked over his shoulder at the guy. “Yeah prick, we’re having a conversation here.”
“Fuck you,” the guy managed to wheeze out and Bucky shook his head slightly.
“You’d think he’d be more cooperative since I killed the other guy in front of him.”
You hummed, picking at the cupcake. “We are killing him too right?”
“Obviously, he put you and Becca in danger.”
“He also made Becca upset!” you said. “You know how I feel when people make Becca upset.”
Bucky popped the piece of cupcake into his mouth, then nodded his head.
“Lemon coconut it is,” he said. “Can I go back to beating the fuck out of him now?”
“Yeah don’t let me stop you,” you said and grabbed another cupcake from the box to follow him to the guy.
It was quite obvious that Bucky had broken every single bone in his face considering how he looked. Blood was dripping from his nose and mouth, his breaths were leaving his bloodied lips in pained groans but he still managed to look up at you while you leaned sideways to the column close to you, nibbling on the cupcake.
“Oh isn’t this the princess?” he said with great difficulty but let out a groan when Bucky grabbed his throat to squeeze it.
“I didn’t say you could look at her,” Bucky said calmly and you grinned.
“Hi there,” you said, chewing on the cupcake. “You seemed more confident while you were chasing me with a car, huh?”
The guy let out a choked noise and Bucky tilted his head, then pulled his hand back so that he could breathe again.
“You fucking bitch…” the guy started but he didn’t get to finish his sentence when Bucky punched him in the stomach, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He coughed while Bucky shook his head slightly.
“He just doesn’t learn,” he told you and you shrugged your shoulders.
“They never do,” you said, turning to the guy. “That was very rude by the way. Someone should teach you some manners.”
The guy scoffed and spat out blood.
“Maybe someone should teach you, you spoiled slut—”
He didn’t get to say anything else when Bucky pulled out his knife and rammed it right into his kneecap, making him let out a howl of pain.
“Maybe,” you said, your voice completely calm. “It’s not going to be you who teaches me anything though.”
He tried to catch his breath while you popped the rest of the cupcake into your mouth, then tilted your head.
“Bucky?”
He looked over his shoulder. “Yes sweetheart?”
“Make him do it again.”
Bucky shot you a grin and twisted the knife, the guy’s scream echoing through the warehouse again.
Chapter 14
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brattattack63 · 1 year ago
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Is This Off The Record? — Quinn Hughes⁴³
Chapter One
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Series Masterlist Masterlist
Pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader
Summary: Y/n gets a job as a rinkside reporter for the Vancouver Canucks, befriending many of the roster members, but one player (who just so happens to wear the C on his chest) is rather against the idea of becoming friends with the girl.
Warnings: use of y/n, cursing, I think that’s it?
w/c: 3,198
a/n: I haven’t written anything in what feels like forever, so I hope this isn’t too bad. I started writing this at like 6 in the morning without sleep the previous night and finished it up after i finally slept so I apologize for any mistakes. I’m also not very educated in the world of reporting but I tried my best. I hope you enjoy!
  You weren’t new to the world of reporting. Not in the slightest, actually. You had dreamt of being a big-time journalist since you were just a girl. You’d had it in your head for a while now that you wanted to be a sports reporter. It was kind of niche, sure, but you were going to do everything you could to achieve that goal.
  Your dad originally fueled your love for sports, and while you never played any sports competitively, you loved watching them nonetheless. There were a few sports that you didn’t enjoy watching at all. You didn’t have a “favorite” sport per se, but if someone asked you what sport you pictured yourself covering, you would say football. Of course, he made it clear that no matter what you did, he would be infinitely proud, but once your dad had learned that you wanted to work in sports reporting, he brought up how cool it would be if you could be a sideline reporter one day. Since then, that was the picture you’d had in your head for what you’d be doing in sports. Things don’t always work out the way you want them to though.
  When you’d gotten the call that you landed a job as a rinkside reporter for the Vancouver Canucks, you were beyond excited, but part of you felt a bit disappointed. It was the part of you that always wanted to be perfect at everything, the part that always demanded the best of yourself, and the part that never accepted failure or defeat. You had been dreaming about your future job for years, and it wasn’t working out exactly how you’d planned. It was fine though. Lots of people would kill to get a job like this, so it had to be fine.
  You’d lived in the Seattle area for your entire life, so you’d been hoping to land a job with the Seahawks. It didn’t work out that way, but you still landed a job with a major sports franchise within five hours of most of your immediate family. You were glad about that. Family was one of the most important things to you. Well, your family and your job.
  It didn’t take you long to pack up your things, preparing for your move to Vancouver. You’d lived in that small studio apartment for the last 4 years and it still didn’t feel like home. It still felt empty and barren. No marks on the floor from the constant dragging of kitchen table chairs. No residue of crayon low on the wall from where you and your brother had drawn on it and done a shitty job of wiping it off the wall afterward. No crack in the porcelain of the bathroom counter poorly covered by whatever the fuck kind of glue concoction your mom had tested out on it. It wasn’t home. And now it really would never be considered home.
  You’d already found a place to rent in Vancouver, a one-bedroom apartment with suspiciously low rent, and even though you’d seen it in person once, you were still slightly skeptical because of the price. Despite the stress of trying to move and find a place quickly, you were happy. Stressed, but happy. And that’s what mattered.
  You didn’t want to take a plane when you went to Vancouver, for obvious reasons, so you drove your car. Well, technically you didn’t drive your car, your brother, Brock, did. He insisted on driving up with you, even if it was only a two-and-a-half-hour drive. He had a friend who had moved up to Vancouver about a year ago who he hadn’t seen since. He came up with the idea that he’d drive you up to your new home and make sure you were settled in, and then he’d have his friend pick him up from your place so they could hang out for a few days before he took a bus or a train home or something. He didn’t really have a fully formulated plan. He often didn’t. It annoyed you to no end sometimes. It somehow always worked out okay for him though.
  “I’m just a little worried about you is all,” Brock spoke from the driver’s seat, glancing over at you momentarily before turning his eyes back to the road ahead of him. You were sat in the passenger seat of your car, absentmindedly scrolling through social media to pass the time of the could-be-worse drive. Brock’s words broke the comfortable silence that had hung in the car for the past 30 minutes. You lifted your gaze up from your phone to look at your brother who was two years your junior, yet was protective of you nonetheless.
  “I don’t know what you’re getting so worried about,” you said with a faint smile and a fond shake of your head. You turned your phone off and set it face down on your thigh as you heard him sigh at your words.
  “You’re gonna be all on you’re own, Y/n/n,” Brock let out with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, not taking his eyes off the road this time. His words didn’t exactly make a whole lot of sense. You moved out over four years ago and here he was talking about you living on your own.
  “I’ve been living on my own.” An exasperated chuckle escaped you before your sentence had even left your mouth. You found Brock to be a little funny sometimes, even when he wasn’t trying to be.
  “Shut up, you know what I mean, dumbass,” he said, a little laughter making its way out of his throat as he spoke. He shoved at your shoulder lightly. It was kind of hard to have a serious conversation with a boy whom you once saw eat an entire pack of Oreos within five minutes, then vomit everywhere, and proceed to try again with a pack of Nutter Butters.
  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” you said, giggling slightly at the random memory that entered your mind. The car fell silent after that, but the silence was short-lived as 10 minutes later, Brock decided to play any and every Kidz Bop song on Bluetooth to annoy the ever-living shit out of you. It worked tremendously. You flipped him off and popped your headphones in, curling up on the seat in a way that you knew would have your back hurting later. You somehow managed to fall asleep, even with Brock brake-checking you about 10 times.
  Brock had helped you settle into your new apartment, staying there for a day to help you get your stuff unpacked. There was only a box or two left to unpack by the time his friend came to pick him up. You hugged him tightly, knowing it would probably be a little while until you saw him again.
  That night, you’d wanted to go to bed early, since you had your first day on the job tomorrow, but, of course, you couldn’t stop tossing and turning until about three in the morning when your alarm was set to wake you up at 6:30. You were sure that snooze button would be pressed at least a few times the next morning, and you were right.
  You’d finally gotten out of bed at around seven in the morning. Something like that. You weren’t entirely sure. It didn’t affect your morning schedule too much though. You’d given yourself extra time so you could unpack the rest of your stuff. That part of your schedule had been replaced by you lying in bed and repeatedly pressing the snooze button. You could always unpack your stuff when you got back to the apartment, so it wasn’t a huge deal.
  The Canucks’ practice technically started at 11 AM, but most of the players arrived at ten, so that’s when you wanted to be there. That meant you had to leave your apartment around 9:30. You wanted to be punctual. No mistakes.
  You walked into your very empty bathroom and looked at yourself in the mirror. You cringed slightly at the barely noticeable dark circles under your eyes. You knew that they would go unnoticed for the most part and that concealer would probably cover it, but you were still pissy about it. You hadn’t gotten any quality sleep, after all. Well, that’s that, I suppose, you thought to yourself.
  You stripped and stepped into the shower, grabbing the mini shampoo, conditioner, and body wash bottles you always kept in your toiletries bag, since you’d forgotten to buy some yesterday. Your family always teased you about carrying those bottles with you, but they actually came in handy so who’s laughing now? Probably still them. Eh, you can’t win every battle.
  You took a long shower, washing away the drive from the day before and the shitty sleep you got last night. You closed your eyes and let the warm water hit your face, finding comfort in the feeling despite just barely being able to breathe through the stream of water.
  You eventually turned the water off reluctantly and grabbed the towel off the rack that you’d put there just yesterday. You shivered as you opened the curtain and the cold air hit your wet skin. Warm showers were great until you had to get out.
  You went through the rest of your routine, brushing your teeth, blowdrying your hair, finding an outfit to wear, etc. The morning felt like it passed by in slow motion. The suspense was killing you. You were restless as you waited for the clock to tell you it was time to leave. When it did, you practically bolted out the door.
  The drive to the practice arena was anxious, to say the least. The excitement had turned into nervousness as soon as you put your key in the ignition. No music played through your speakers. The Bluetooth never connected to your phone, but even if it did, you wouldn’t have turned anything on anyway. Silence was what you needed to collect your thoughts and prepare yourself.
  You got to the rink early, but you were glad you’d gotten there early. Better than being late. You sat in your car for a few minutes, before finally taking a deep breath and getting out. You must have made sure you locked your car at least ten times as you walked up to the arena, which was most definitely unnecessary.
  Once inside, it was surreal looking at the environment. It was their practice arena, nothing incredibly special about it, but it was what the whole thing meant. It meant that you were doing what you loved, what you’d wanted to do for so long. You absolutely couldn’t wait.
  It didn’t take long for all the players to arrive. Most of them arrived around the same time, pretty much all within a span of about five minutes. You had a few words with some of them, mainly just quick questions that didn’t really get you anywhere, but, hey, progress is progress. You actually had a relatively long chat with J.T. Miller, you know, considering the circumstances. The conversation didn’t last nearly as long as you would’ve liked but he spent longer talking to you than the others did.
  The last one to arrive was none other than the newly-named Captain of the Canucks himself, a whole ten minutes after everyone else did. He wasn’t technically late, but still. It didn’t seem very Captain-like, but you guessed that you weren’t quite in the position to judge, seeing as you didn’t even play sports, let alone captain an NHL team.
  “Hi, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to ask-” You began cheerfully but cut yourself off due to the fact he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. He just…walked right by. You couldn’t tell if he actually didn’t hear or see you, or if he was just really fucking shameless about ignoring people. You could hardly believe either one, but at least the former option would be a misunderstanding. The latter was just plain fucking rude.
  You stood baffled for a moment but recovered as you saw him disappear into the locker room. You blinked a few times to clear your head of the weird interaction, before going over to take your seat next to the rest of the reporters and journalists.
  The practice went smoothly from what you could tell. It didn’t seem like a whole lot was going on, just routine drills. You made sure to take lots of pictures anyway, essentially documenting the entire practice, sometimes focusing your camera lens on the fan favorites. You were certainly better with your words than with a camera, but they say a picture is worth a thousand words, so you tried. Your photography skills weren’t as good as you would’ve liked them to be, but you were getting better.
  As their practice came to a close, most of the reporters and journalists gathered outside the door to the locker room, waiting for the okay to enter and ask their questions. Of course, they wanted their questions answered. It was the first official practice of the regular season, after all. You tried to wriggle your way to the front but to no avail. It seemed kind of counterproductive. Once the limited amount of media reps had begun filtering in, you certainly felt like a small fish in a big pond. Forget the pond, you were in the fucking Pacific Ocean. Everyone else seemed to know exactly what they were doing, exactly who to go to, and which questions to ask them, and you didn’t. You were sure you looked like a lost puppy in here.
  Someone seemed to notice that too. The fellow you’d had a friendly chat with earlier. The 30-year-old center was already answering some questions from another reporter, but as he answered a question you hadn’t quite heard, he jerked his head to the side, inviting you over. You gladly went. You probably wouldn’t have been able to work up the courage to talk with anyone in here alone. You made your way over to where he stood, a microphone held in front of his face by the middle-aged male journalist who stood directly in front of him. You stood slightly off to the side, waiting for the other reporter to finish up with his questions.
  Once he finished his questions, you made room for yourself in front of the man who had thankfully granted you his kindness. He chuckled as you awkwardly stood in front of him. His presence was somewhat comforting.
   “Don’t sweat it, Kid,” He said, flashing you a comforting smile. The way he spoke the words reminded you of the cool teachers in school after you’d fucked up so badly that you’d just barely gotten by with a passing grade.
  You laughed a little self-consciously at his comment, now knowing that your shortcomings were also apparent to others and not just you. You took a deep breath before speaking, attempting to calm your nerves.
  “Would you wanna answer a few questions?” You managed to ask and it felt like a big step for you even though it was just a seven-word sentence. He nodded wordlessly, a reassuring smile on his face as he did so.
  You actually shook off some nerves and asked him a few run-of-the-mill questions. Simple ones like, What aspect of play do you think your team has improved the most in over the off-season? What aspects of play have you improved in individually over the off-season?, and Do you think your team possesses the necessary chemistry between teammates to be a Stanley Cup contender this year? All of the questions either came with easy answers or came with no direct answer at all. You didn’t mind all that much though. Not right now anyway. You were asking the right questions, and knowing that made things just a little bit easier.
  After you had finished your short interview with J.T., he led you over to where his Captain stood, stating that you just had to ask him some of your questions. You weren’t entirely keen on the idea after your, for lack of a better word, odd interaction with him before practice had even started, but you begrudgingly obliged.
  “Are you sure he’s up for more questions?” You asked almost nervously as a sort of last-ditch effort to get out of talking to this guy. You knew it was a stupid question that wouldn’t get you anywhere. These people knew how to talk to the media and they knew that it was part of their job to do such, of course,, he’d answer some questions. No harm in at least trying to get out of it though, right?
  J.T. just laughed at your question and the insistence in your tone at first. He either didn’t know or didn’t care that you didn’t want to talk to Quinn and you didn’t know which one made you more annoyed.
  “He won’t mind,” He finally said said after a breath. You didn’t care if he minded, quite frankly, you did not want to go through another awkward interaction. You’d already gotten the answers that you’d needed anyway. You were screaming internally.
  Quinn was finishing up some questions with some other journalist when you made it over to where he stood. He had an intense gaze as you could tell he carefully thought about each one of his answers. He glanced over at you as the woman in front of him asked what you simultaneously hoped would be her last question and her first question, wanting this to be over with as quickly as possible but not even want it to start in the first place. His eyes weren’t on you long and you weren’t exactly sure what to make of the way he looked at you for that short time. 
  The question the woman had been asking had actually been her last question and you let out a breath when you realized such. With a smile on his face, J.T. nudged Quinn and it looked like he was about to say something, but he was cut off by the woman who had just been interviewing Quinn.
  “Could I ask you a few questions as well?” She asked J.T. with a rather confident smile on her face and you didn’t know how one could even be that confident in a situation like this.
  “Um, sure,” He said after a moment and you could see that he didn’t exactly want to, but he knew he kind of had to.
  You silently begged him not to leave you alone, but it was part of his job and you knew that. You still let out a long sigh as he was led a little further away from you and Quinn as to not interfere with your interview.
  You turned back to Quinn after a moment and he was also watching J.T. being virtually dragged away. It seemed that he saw you look back at him through his peripherals, and he turned to face you.
  “Can you answer some questions for me?”
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fandom-whores-world · 2 years ago
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Remarkable 3
Batfam x Neglected! Reader
Prologue , Part 2, Part 4
Hey guys! I’m back! After seeing how popular this series became I knew I had to shift my focus to it! I hope you guys enjoy Part 3
You woke up the next morning, and everything went the way it usually did. Alfred knocked on your door to announce breakfast, Tim walked right past by you in the hall, and the rest of your siblings made plans you would never be invited to. You finished up breakfast quickly, thanked Alfred for the delicious food, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and then were on your way.
Instead of taking the limo to school with Tim and Damian, you preferred the less stressful option of riding your bike to Gotham Academy. You hadn’t really cared much about going to school with Tim, but now that Damian was about to enroll as a freshman a part of you wished you had gone to school in Metropolis. Damian was a difficult person to deal with on the best of days. His status as Bruce Wayne’s only legitimate son gave him more than a big ego, but the truth was you really just didn’t want another Wayne to have to compete with. At least if you had gone to school in Metropolis you would have been closer to your best friend Kara.
Kara and you had become fast friends when you first moved into the manor. She would tag along with her cousin, Clark Kent, who had a close relationship with your father despite living in a different city and having very different occupations. According to Kara since you were the same age it was a sign you two were meant to be best friends. While you didn’t really believe in things like “signs” you were glad to have Kara in your life. She was kind, funny, strong, but most importantly she saw you. It didn’t matter to her that you weren’t a prodigy like your brothers. She loved you for you, and that meant the world.
You sighed before chaining up your bike outside of the school. ‘What’s done is done’ you thought as you approached the large marble building of your school. Even if you didn’t like going to school with Damian, there wasn’t anything to be done about it. After his elementary school graduation Damian would be attending Gotham Academy whether you liked it or not.
As you entered the school building you noticed a large group of students crowded around the announcement board. You tried to catch a glimpse of what they were looking at, but there were too many people in the way. Eventually you found your friend Olive in the crowd and asked her what was happening.
“You haven’t heard (y/n)?” She pulled you to the side of the crowd where there was a small gap just wide enough to see the poster that had caught everyone’s attention.
“Your father is coming to give a speech about running a successful corporation”
You whipped your head around in shock. Olive continued talking, but all you heard was static. Your mouth felt like cotton, your ears started ringing. You were about to start spiraling, but before you could you felt a hand clamp down on your shoulder. You turned around and saw Olive looking at you with worry.
“Are you okay, (y/n)? Maybe you should sit down? Come on, just a few classes before lunch with Kyle and I”
She guided you away from the crowd and the board so that you could calm down.
“Homeroom is about to start (y/n). Why don’t we head to class?”
You nodded mutely, but your mind was still on your father. You may not fight for his attention anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t affect you. You knew that as soon as the event was over everyone would be swarming you and Tim for info about your father. While Tim may not like being pestered with questions at least he wouldn’t have to reopen all those wounds of neglect you would.
Eventually you reached your homeroom. Olive started waving at her boyfriend, Kyle and pulled the two of you over to where he sat. Kyle smiled warmly at the two of you before gesturing to the seats around him.
“Don’t leave a poor boy alone guys”
Olive laughed before putting her bag down and sitting next to him. The three of you were desk mates with Kyle sitting closest to the window, Olive in the middle, and you in the aisle. Seeing that they were waiting for you to join them you shook your head free of the negative thoughts that filled your head, and took a seat.
Eventually the three of you settled into light conversation over one thing or another, and before you knew it the class had started. You were grateful to have Biology as your homeroom since it is one of your best subjects. When you first moved to Gotham you had wanted to be a Doctor like the men and women who took care of your mother before she passed. While you didn’t want to be a Doctor anymore, you were still reaping the rewards of study from your childhood dream.
The class came to an end, and after that the rest of the day went by in a haze. By the time you realized it you were on your way back to the Biology Lab for second homeroom. You had left your book bag open by accident, and a girl pushed by you knocking all of your school supplies out in the process. She threw out a half hearted apology and a tight smile before rushing by. You decided not to let it bother you. There were very few students in the hallway, but the hall was very narrow which made it difficult for you to pick up your things without getting in someone’s way.
Eventually you decided to just wait for your classmates to leave the hall before grabbing your things. When you were almost finished picking up everything you heard some footsteps approaching the hallway. You looked up and saw the Dean of Gotham Academy turn into the hallway while talking to your father’s party guest, Harvey Dent. You were surprised to see him again so quickly after the party. While you were lost in thought the Dean became aware of your presence, and moved to introduce you to him. However, before she could Harvey stepped forward and held out his hand,
“Ms. Wayne, it’s a pleasure to see you again after the gala”
You laughed awkwardly while getting off the floor before accepting his hand and giving it a shake.
“It’s nice to see you again too, Mr. Dent”
The Dean noticed your familiarity with Harvey Dent and started going on and on about your accomplishments at the school.
‘She’s probably looking for a donation’ you thought wryly.
The whole time Dent nodded his head and listened with rapt attention. Eventually the two started to wrap up their conversation. Once again Dent turned to you, and started to chat
“I don’t want to seem pushy, but it really would be nice to have you work with me. Have you given my offer any more thought?”
You bit your lip and fidgeted awkwardly before finding some inner courage and saying
“I want to take you up on it please!”
Dent gave you a million dollar smile, shook your hand, and said
“That’s the spirit, kid. Glad to have you on board as my newest intern! You start Saturday at 9:00 a.m. Don’t be late!”
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delicatebarness · 1 year ago
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cry baby | chapter three
Summary: Not your average day out, well, maybe for The Avengers it is.
Warning: Minimum Violence. John Walker.
Word Count: 1374
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A/N: JACKET. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B
Tags: buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree
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The aroma of coffee filled the small space of your kitchen, and the events at the restaurant and the fallout weighed heavily on your mind. As you stood by the counter, lost in thought, you heard a soft knock at your door. 
Opening it, you found Bucky standing there, looking slightly disheveled. “Hey,” he greeted, his voice gentle. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay after last night.”
You stepped aside, letting him enter. With a grateful smile, you nodded. “I just made some coffee, would you like some?” 
His eyes scanned the room as if he was ensuring everything was in place as he walked in. “I’d love some, please, Sweetheart,” he smiled, turning back at you. Dark shadows clung beneath his eyes, the whites of them were threaded with red veins as his lids struggled to stay open. “I didn’t get much sleep.” 
You poured two mugs, handing one to Bucky. “I know you told him about John,” you said softly, leading him to the couch. 
“I’m not sorry about that,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Steve should have done more damage,” he mumbled under his breath.
You sighed, sitting next to him and bringing your knees up to your chest. “I just wish it hadn’t come to that. Steve shouldn’t be in fights because of me,”
Bucky turned his gaze to you, softening at the thought of your worry. “That wasn’t your fault, Steve did what any brother would, and John… well, he’s not worth your time or concern.”
His presence helped steady your emotions, comforting you. He had a way of keeping you grounded, making you feel safe. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said, meeting his gaze. “For everything.”
He gave you a small, reassuring smile. “Always.” 
As you found a comfortable silence lacing itself between you, the familiar massage tone of both phones pinged together. Reaching for them in sync, you read the message. ‘They’ve taken Steve in, again.’ Your heart sank.
“Walker,” Bucky mumbled as he stared at his phone, sighing. You closed your eyes, a wave of guilt washing over you. “It’s not your fault,” Bucky reassured you, cupping your face, the cold metal soothing your flushed skin. “Let’s go get him.” 
Nodding in agreement, you raised from your seat and settled your mug down on the coffee table. Grabbing your keys, you began to race toward the door. Bucky cleared his throat moments before you reached for the handle, grabbing your attention.
He held out his jacket toward you, gesturing toward your attire. The adrenaline coursing through you caused you to forget you had yet to change out of your nightwear. Mumbling a thank you toward him, you slipped into his jacket, letting the leather material surround your body.
~
The ride to the police station was a blur, your mind replayed the events of the previous night. Every what-if raced through your thoughts. 
When you entered the police station, Sam, Natasha, and Wanda were already waiting inside for Steve. “Have you seen him yet?” you asked, as Bucky went over to the front desk. 
Sam shook his head, concern shown on his face. “Not yet. They’re questioning him now. They haven’t given us anything, yet.” 
Natasha rose from her seat in the waiting area, her expression a mix of frustration and determination. “He’ll be okay, we’ve been here before.” 
Bucky returned from the front desk, his face masking a barely restrained anger. “Walker’s really pushing himself this time.” 
A confused look washed over your features, “This time?” you asked, gazing up at Bucky, searching for answers in his eyes. “What do you mean, ‘this time’?” 
Wanda put a reassuring hand on your back, “Walker wants what Steve has,” she spoke, and a heavy tension began to weigh in the air. “You know, the authority, the bar’s respect…” she continued as she gestured around the station.
“He’s just trying to provoke us,” Sam suspected, as his gaze met yours, you felt smaller than usual around your friends as you realized your part in this. “He knew getting to you would do that.” 
Your gaze tried to avoid all of theirs, feeling humiliated. Wrapping Bucky’s jacket tighter around your body, you found an empty seat and sank into it.
The minutes felt like hours as you waited. Suddenly, the door to one of the interview rooms opened, and it wasn’t who you were hoping for. John emerged, looking smug and satisfied. His gaze met yours for a brief moment, a smirk across his face. 
Before you could react, Bucky was across the room. He grabbed John by the collar and slammed him against the wall with force, the entire station went silent. “Is there a problem, guard dog?” John spat as he tried to maintain his composure.
Bucky’s grip tightened, his voice a growl. “Listen, Walker. If you ever,” another slam, “go near her again, you’ll have more than just Steve to worry about.” 
“Barnes!” Officer Fury, who dealt with your group on numerous occasions, called out as he approached. “Not here,” the man tried to squeeze himself between the two men. 
Reluctantly, Bucky let go and took a step back. Fury placed a firm hand on John’s shoulder, guiding him out of the station. “Don’t make things worse for yourself.” 
Straightening his collar, he shot one last venomous look at you before turning and walking out of the station. 
Fury sighed as he turned to Bucky, shaking his head. “Keep it together, Barnes. You know the drill, don’t let him get the best of you.” Bucky nodded as he looked over at you.
Within seconds, another interview room door opened, this time, Steve walked out. You immediately rose from your seat and rushed over to him. He pulled you into a tight hug. “You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle with a lace of tiredness. 
You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “Forget me, what about you?” 
Pulling back slightly, Steve looked at you with a soft smile. “I’m good. Fury’s got our backs, letting me off with a warning.”
You glanced over at Fury, sending him a grateful smile as he gave you a reassuring nod. “Just keep it in the bar,” he advised. 
“Speaking of,” Sam smirked as he gestured toward the station door. “Shall we?” 
A sense of relief washed over you and your friends. Following their lead out of the station, you suddenly remember you were still in your nightwear. The warmth from Bucky’s jacket caused you to feel fully dressed and covered the entire time.
Bucky walked beside you, sensing your sudden discomfort he placed a hand on the small of your back. “I’ll take you home first,” he gave you a small smile as you glanced up at him. 
~
As you reached your apartment, Bucky followed you up the stairs, his hand never left the small of your back as he rested gently against it. The familiar scent of your home instantly put you at ease as you stepped inside. 
“I’ll be quick!” you promised, as you turned to glance at him. He closed the door behind you and leaned against it as he watched you make your way to your bedroom. 
“Take your time, Sweetheart,” he said, a playful tone laced his voice as he smiled back at you. “I’m not going anywhere.” 
Disappearing into your bedroom, the adrenaline that had carried you through the events at the police station began to wear off. You quickly change out of your nightwear and into one of your dresses, and check your appearance. The comforting weight of Bucky’s jacket still lingered on your shoulders as you replaced it with one of your cardigans. 
Bucky had moved into your living room by the time you emerged from your bedroom, his expression softening when he saw you. “Gorgeous,” he said, a rush of heat spread across your cheeks. 
“Thank you,” you mumbled, as you avoided his gaze, and caught the sight of his jacket draped over your arm. “Oh, and thank you!” You gestured toward the jacket as you handed it back to him. 
Bucky’s face fell slightly as he took the jacket, disappointment crossed his features. “It looked good on you,” he said as he reluctantly slipped it on.
---
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writing-blog-iguess · 6 months ago
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Online Matchup 12
Summery: Something seems to be going on with Jason. Instead of pushing him, Y/n lets him be and talks to friends.
Warning: swearing
I Tag list: @teapartydreams @adorabluesposts
ao3 Series master list
A/n: Happy holidays! Have a filler, it’s a little angsty but it ends in a happy. I know I've been just posting just this pic. I'm having a bit of a hard time ending the other fics but hope to get them done in January. That is my goal.
—————
March 22
Y/N (7:37 am)
How’d it going today?
Y/n (8:58am)
I burnt my breakfast
I don’t even know how that happened
I looked away for a minute and the next thing I know
The smoke detector went off and there’s smoke in the kitchen
D:
I’m so sad
Now I don’t have anything to eat and I’m late for school
Y/n (10:00am)
I am not sure why I thought getting my engineering degree was a good idea
Nothing my teacher is saying is making sense
I want to go home
Y/N (1:28pm)
So, classes are done but now I have to work
With the amount of sleep I didn’t get
Work is the last thing I want to do
Y/n (3:43pm)
I made another fire again today
Downside, they docked my pay a little
Upside, I get to go home early today
So there’s that
Y/n (4:39 pm)
I hope you’re doing okay
Y/n (5:04 pm)
Hey Steph?
Is Jason okay?
Stephanie
What do you mean?
Y/n
I don’t know
I haven’t heard from him today
I just want to know if he’s okay
Stephanie
He hasn’t talked to you at all today?!.
Y/n
No, and we didn’t get into a fight
Did something happen?
Stephanie
Yeah, but I don’t think I’m the one who should tell you
Y/n
Yeah I understand
There are some things he hasn’t told me
I know that much
Stephanie
I’m sorry
Y/n
No worries
But could you tell me if he’s doing okay whenever you see him?
Stephanie
Of course
Y/n (5:14 pm)
Do you think you’ll see Jason today?
Roy
Um, I’m on my way to him now
How’d you know?
Y/n
Wild guess
I know he’s dealing with something but I don’t know what
Could you tell him I’m here for him if he ever needs me?
Roy
Why can’t you tell him yourself?
Y/n
He hasn’t been talking to me today
And I didn’t want to push if he doesn’t want to talk
The last time we went no contact, we both pushed each other away
Roy
That asshole
Y/n
Just be nice when you see him
Roy
I was
But now I should give him shit for what he’s putting you through
Y/n
No don’t
This is nothing compared to whatever Jason is going through
Roy
If I didn’t know better
You already know what’s he going through
Y/n
But I don’t
I just know that it’s bad if he’s not talking to anyone right now
Roy
You really care about him huh?
Y/n
I’m not afraid to admit it
Roy
Good
Jason needs someone like you on his side
I’m glad he has you
You threw your phone on the couch after reading Roy’s message, and bit your thumbnail in thought. Roy’s words had a deeper meaning now then before you knew the whole truth. And wondered if they would hold the same weight after they realized you went behind Jason’s back to find the truth.
It wasn’t something you needed to worry about now. There was something more pressing and you weren’t sure what to do but wait.
Sighing, you stood from the couch and made your way to the kitchen. After eating supper, you retrieved your laptop from your room and set it on the table.
Staring at it for a good minute or two, you made up your mind and turned it out. Once logged in, you went through the motions and found yourself in the Batcomputer again.
There was nothing for you to do but watch and wait. And that’s what you did for the rest of the night, you watched and listened as they talked out plans and watched as Oracle fought against the Calculator.
Scared of being discovered, you were debating whether or not you should leave. But you couldn’t, not until you knew Jason was okay.
But the decision was made for you when Oracle forced both you and Calculator when she rebooted her system. You gave her credit and wondered why she didn’t do that earlier.
With nothing to do, you slumped against your chair and hoped everything turned out in their favour.
“Jason you have a minute?” Roy called as the Outlaws made their way out of the building with Riddler in tow. Jason nodded, and the two of them branched off from their friends.
”What’s up?” Jason asked when they were far enough away from prying ears.
“Have you talked to Y/n lately?” Roy asked, and Jason flinched at the mention of you. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“Are they doing okay?” Jason asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Roy shrugged and said he didn’t know. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
“Exactly that, I don’t know,” he answered, “I just know that they’re really worried about you and wanted you to know that they’re there if you need them.”
“I’ll always need them,” Jason said without a second thought.
“That’s probably something you need to tell them, not me,” Roy said and looked towards their friends. “Look, everything seems to be okay here now. And I doubt Batman needs our help right now.”
“Probably because he’s being a stubborn asshole,” Jason muttered and Roy ignored it with a shake of his head.
“Why don’t you go see Y/N?” Roy suggested, “it would ease their mind a bit.” Jason shook his head at the thought.
“Not yet,” he said, “not until we deal with Joker. The last thing I need or want is for Joker to find Y/N.”
“Fair enough. Then at least answer their texts,” he said, “that’s something you can do without Joker knowing.”
“Suppose you’re right,” Jason said, sighing in defeat.
“I’m always right,” Roy said, gaining a laugh out of his friend.
“Not always,” he said and walked off towards his bike. He pulled out his phone. Scrolling through his messages, he couldn’t help but laugh.
Jason (12:35 am)
You set two things on fire today
One might think you’re a pyromaniac
Y/n (1:09 am)
:O
I am no such thing
i set ONE thing on fire and burnt my eggs
There is a difference
Jason
No I don’t think so
It’s the same thing
Y/n
Well then I guess your seeing a pyromaniac
Jason
I’ve dated worst things
Y/n
Ex-fucking-cuse me?
What could possibly be worse than a pyromaniac?
Jason
A serial killer
Y/n
YOU DATED A SERIAL KILLER?
Jason
Okay, not technically
Y/n
What does that mean?!
Jason
Means she was apart of the league of assassins
And given that their job description is basically their title
It's the same thing
Y/n
I can feel you shrugging like its not a big deal
But it is
And I worry for you and your taste of women
Jason
There’s nothing wrong with my taste in women
Y/n
Says the guy who dated a women who kills for a living
And me, who’s and I’m quoting here
a ‘pyromaniac’
Jason
Nothing wrong with a little arson
Y/n
My goodness
Judging by that statement alone, I think you’re the pyromaniac
Jason
Well, I mean I have done a little arson myself
So I’m not one to judge
Y/n
……
Jason
Wow, six dots
I must really made an impression
Y/n
You’re lucky your pretty
Jason
I knew it
You’re only into me because of my looks
Y/n
-_-
I’m going to bed
Jason
No, no no wait
I went a little to far, I’m sorry
Y/n
You’re forgiven
Can I call you? Or are you too busy for that?
Jason
Not busy persay, just I’m with my friends and I’m not yet ready for you to meet them
Y/n
Afraid I’ll run away?
Jason
Something like that
Sometimes they can be a little too much
And protective
Other then that, I wouldn’t mind hearing your beautiful voice
Y/n
Oof, maybe I should go to bed
I’m red like a tomato
Jason
Sounds like a sight to see
Y/n
I’m sure it is
Are you okay?
And don’t just saying something cheesy like
Jason
I’m better now that I’m talking to you
Y/n
You son of a bitch
I told you not to say something like that
Smooth fucker
Jason
But I am telling the truth
Something came up last night that triggered something
I had to leave town for the day, but my friends showed up and we talked.
Roy said something about you being worried
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you
I just, I needed to deal with it before I could see you or talk to you
Y/n
No I get
Probably didn’t help with all my messages
But I’m glad you’re feeling better
Still dealing with it?
Jason
Yeah
But once it’s done, I’ll come and see you
Promise
Y/n
Take your time with it, I don’t mind the wait
I’m just glad you to hear from you
Jason
I’m so glad I met you
Y/n
Me too
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yeonmuse · 7 months ago
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ᥫ᭡ f!reader x yang jungwon ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🎧
authors 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 I this series has officially met its end everyone, though I’m thinking about making a special christmas chapter im not 100% I will be doing so. Considering I have all of the other members series to start writing. Within ending this i’d like it to be known that every member will be receiving a mini series that all tie in with one another, beginning with this series. This is part of admins Enhypen university Series
ᦓynopsis Jungwon is a film major that finds honestly complete captivated by an antisocial girl with a love for the stars and a passion for music
TAGLIST CLOSED FOR THIS SERIES
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The girl with the headphones | THE FINAL CHAPTER
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Tonight was the night that Jungwon and the film club had been working so hard on, the night had finally come to premier the film they had all been working so hard to pull together. The first viewing would be at heartstrings, with only a selective few from campus. Yn was more excited than anyone, Jungwon hadn’t told her much about the film other than a few minor details when the two began working on it together so she was over the moon to finally see what ideas had been plaguing his mind.
The two of them hadn’t really spoken much since last night, the night they shared their first kiss. Though she knew it was because he was most likely far too busy trying to perfect things at heartstrings for tonight’s film viewing. When It came to his craft Jungwon was completely serious about it, she’d always found herself admiring him or staring at him at the time even the two were working on the project together. Something about the way his expressions changed so vividly when he was focused, made it impossible to keep her eyes off of him.
A knock at the door forced the girl out of her thoughts of her boyfriend as she brushed her teeth. Before she herself could even make it to the door her roommate had already opened it.
“Oh Nessa! When did you get back from your parents?” Chaewon slips inside as if it were her own dorm, something she had done time and time again and both yn and nessa had grown used to it.
“I got back yesterday, the snow storm last night made it completely hell to get back.”
“Are you coming to Jungwons premiere tonight?”
“I wasn’t going to at first but I feel like I’ve missed so much that I need to be there to not miss anything else, besides I need to meet this new boyfriend.”
“You haven’t met Jungwon yet??”
“Nope she hasn’t let him come over here once because she was too afraid i’d scare him away.” Nessa sighs dramatically and holds her chest as if she had just been struck in the heart.
“That’s not true, he always asked to walk me back to the dorm but it’s been snowing so much I don’t want him out in the cold for too long.”
“Oh she’s whipped.”
“She’s been daydreaming about him ever since I got back.”
“That kiss must have done a number on you or something, he’s all you can think about now.”
“Okay okay enough you two, are we going to go shopping tonight or not, or will you both stand here all day talking about my love affairs?”
“Who says we can’t do both?” Nessa shrugs as yn opens the door and both she and Chaewon follow each other out.
“Oh I almost forgot we’re waiting on one more person.” Chaewon pulls her phone from her pocket as the three of them step out into the main hall of the girls dormitory.
“I thought Sunoo was helping the guys with preparations today?”
“He is, it’s not Sunoo that’s joining us.” As Chaewon slips her phone back into her pocket, as if on queue her name is called causing the three of them to whip their heads around to the hallway.
“Chae Chae you did not.”
“Isn’t that the girl from the theater department”
“Long story short, Heeseung has a thing for her and he’s been trying to approach her for months but fails every time.”
“Heeseung? As in Lee Heseung? As in thee Lee Heeseung, that's always flirting?”
“Yup, I invited her to the premier tonight.”
“Chaewon Heeseung might actually kill you this time.”
“He tried to set me up with an obviously straight woman, this isn’t the worst I could do.” As Sakoia finally made it over to the three of them, it was obvious to the three of them why Heeseung had taken a liking to her. Not only could she sing, and act but she was breathtakingly beautiful.
“Were you guys waiting on me all this time? Show preparations ran a little later than usual today.”
“Nope you’re actually just in time. Koia, this is yn and that’s her roommate Nessa.”
“Nice to meet you both, Chaewon talked about you both nonstop yesterday.”
“I didn't know you were into theater Chae.”
“Oh she’s not, the only reason she was there was because the fashion department and theater department are working together for the upcoming show.”
“I’ve never been more stressed out about fashion in my life, theater majors are no joke.” The three of them laugh at Chaewons obvious fatigue having to deal with so many thoughts and ideas having been thrown at her yesterday.
“Should we get going now? We only have 5 hours until the premier and Chaewon takes the longest time picking out outfits.”
“Mm yeah let’s go, or else we’d end up missing the movie picking out an outfit for just Chae alone.”
While the girls had been out and about, shopping and pampering themselves for tonight’s premier Jungwon had been working the guys like it was their 9 to 5.
“How come Taehyun gets off so easily without doing anything?” Jake complains, as he and the others continue making decorations for the tabletops.
“Um maybe because Taehyun owns the place and he’s already helped enough by letting Jungwon premier hops film here and making the menu for tonight’s show.” Taehyun retorts to his complaining in a mock whiney voice as he places a stack of menus onto the diner counter for them to take.
“Fair enough.”
“Where is Jungwon anyways?”
“He went off into the back room to make sure the film was working properly.”
“Film? What is this in the 1800s? Why didn’t he just make it a drive or something?”
“He wanted it to be authentic, like a drive in theater so he had another copy of it put on film.”
“Do any of you even know what the film is about?” They all fell silent before looking around at one another, usually at least one of them would have been listening to him when he’d go on and on about his works, but not one of them knew.
“I don’t think he ever talked about this one now that I think about it?”
They were right, he hadn’t talked about it, the only people that truly knew what this film was about had been them and those that had put the work in in making the film. Only he knew the true meaning behind the film though, but once everyone else had seen it it would become a matter of time until they realized its true meaning too.
Eventually the sun had started to set and all of the guests had come flooding into the cafe. The very last four to enter had been the four girls that spent almost the entire day in preparations for the night. Once they entered they all parted ways, Chaewon going off to find manon, Nessa going off to find herself a drink and yn off to find Jungwon, that left Sakoia alone.
“Are my eyes playing tricks or were yn and Chaewon serious about inviting Sakoia to the premier.” Sunghoon calls out, making both Heeseung and Jay turn towards the direction which Sakoia stood, seemingly on a phone call.
“Oh Chaewon actually did it.” Sunoo laughs as he joins the three of them, he honestly couldn’t say that he hadn’t expected her to actually do it after all it was Chaewon.
“Of course this was Chaewons doing.” Heeseung rolls his eyes, he had been trying his best to act nonchalant, as if he didn’t care but it was obvious he wanted nothing more than to go talk to her.
“You still haven’t talked to her yet?” Jay was shocked to say the least, if there was anyone out of the Seven of them that had the least trouble with talking to women, it was Heeseung.
“He’s tried, every time he has she’s either had preparations for a show or he chickened out on asking her out.” Jakes comment only further annoyed him
“Why don’t you just tell her you have questions about a play or something?” Maybe Sunghoon had been onto something with that suggestion.
“Five bucks says he chickens out or she gets another call.” Jake bets as the four of them watched Heeseung finally approach her with a newfound confidence (more like annoyance)
“Jungwon, are you here?” Yn had slowly made her way through the back hallway of the cafe, knowing that Jungwon was bound to be found in one of the rooms if not out with the others.
She found him standing next to a film camera, his eyebrows furrowed as he rewound the film back to its start in preparation for the film night. She stood in the doorway watching with a smile on her face, her hip and head resting against the doorframe.
“Penny for your thoughts.” Hearing his girlfriend's voice he couldn’t help but feel his heart leap in his chest, pulling his focus away from the camera he turned to look at her. As his eyes fell upon her standing there in her beautiful dress, he felt the luckiest man in the world was no one other than himself. His eyes raked over her figure as if he was capturing a snapshot with his eyes.
“How can I focus on tonight's film when my girlfriend is standing here looking this beautiful in front of me.” As she steps inside the room he closes the space between the two slipping an arm around her waist while the other hand rests on the side of her neck and face.
“You're an absolutely breathtaking baby.” He places loving kisses on her forehead and cheek until finally his lips rests on hers making sparks fly between the two. She couldn’t hide the smile that made its way into her face at his gentle loving kisses.
“How were preparations? Is everything ready for tonight?”
“They went surprisingly smooth, other than a few dramatics from Jake, everyone pulled their weight.”
“It really looks beautiful out there tonight, I can’t wait to see how everything came out.” She smiles and Jungwon can’t help but melt at the sight of her smiling before him. This was what he had waited for from the moment he saw her. Spent months thinking of how to approach her, how to get her attention without scaring her off. All the time he spent with her occupying his mind, the nights the two had been alone working on the sound score, it all led up to this moment. He felt content holding her here in his arms, as no one else’s but his.
“Is everybody here already?”
“Mhm we’re all just waiting for the man that made all of this happen.” She smiles, locking her fingers with his as he stares down at her with pure adoration in his gaze.
“Then let’s not keep them waiting any longer.” He brushes the loose strands of hair behind her ear before leading her out of the room.
As she took a seat amongst the others Jungwon made his way to the front of the cafe to give his pre premier speech.
“I want to thank everyone for coming tonight, the film team has been working on this film very diligently over the last two months. I’ll admit it surely wasn’t easy having to go through so many different changes and rewrites but it was all worth it. Usually the films I’ve made in the past have all been some sort of documentations or darker concepts but this one is a little different than the others, please enjoy tonight and I'd really appreciate any feedback you’d like to give when the film is over, thank you.” Once Jungwon’s shows was over everyone applauds, the guys of course cheered louder than anyone else, then the film began.
The film itself had been everything Jungwon hoped it to be, a silent film that focused more of the musicality than it did the lines, though the very few lines there were had been aced by the actors and actress. A love story of two people that had no one other than themselves. An empty world where only the two of them existed, a girl that loved music and a boy that absolutely loved films. Both walk the world aimlessly, alone until they cross paths with one another and discover that they aren’t alone anymore, they’ve found each other. It was obvious in the film that the guy had completely adorned the female lead. He’d look at her with so much love and adoration in his eyes yet she was completely clueless. Always walking around wearing those same headphones, humming soft tunes when the two sat alone together just enjoying each other's company. He’d show her his favorite movies and she’d show him all of her favorite songs. The two of them became inseparable, completely bound to one another, not simply because they were the only two still walking the earth but because their connection was strong. By the end of the film he confesses his love to her in an empty aquarium, pulling her headphones of her ears he stares directly into his eyes and asks her. For once in her life the female leads world silences, no music, no solemn tune just silence.
“Even if there were a million others walking this earth, my eyes will always find you, the girl with the headphones. Through any crowd, my eyes would only see you.”
The movie ended with those words, leaving a lingering feeling in the audience, a feeling of the unknown as well, or at least unknown to everyone that had watched that wasn’t him or the rest of both their friends. They all knew, everyone knew..the film was about her, yn.
As if she herself had just realized it her eyes met him, full of tears, her heart thumping in her chest. He met his gaze with one of her own and wiped away every tear that fell from her cheek. Then he recited those words
“Even with the millions of others walking this earth, my eyes will always find you, Through any crowd, my eyes will always only see you.”
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Authors final thank you and goodbye to this series
Thank you to everyone that has read this series completely through, this has been one of my absolute favorites to write and I’m so sad that it’s now come to an end but I really did enjoy writing this one. To anyone that commented, liked, reposted or even asked to be part of the taglist thank you so much i love you all and appreciate your interest in my series
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