#Super Soldier!Radiant | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

caws5749 · 4 months ago

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Useless in A Good Way

A/N: oh, another fic where she writes a pregnant reader… YES IM SORRY but I’ve dreamt of being pregnant since I was little and it’s my biggest dream so here we go again 😭I’m working on requests as well but this just popped into my head. I felt very... out of practice with the last few pieces but writing this... I feel good again.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head at some inappropriate joke Tony made after Clint won the round of whatever card game they were playing. Natasha’s hand rested on your thigh, squeezing accidentally while she laughed. The music played in the background, barely heard over the nearly hundred voices that filled the main room of the compound for the latest party Tony had deemed necessary.

You turned your head towards your wife to admire her for a moment. Nat caught your eye, sending you an admiring smile that she reserved only for you.

“You look radiant,” she murmured, leaning in closer to press a chaste kiss to your lips. You blushed, loving the red that still tainted your cheeks after four years of marriage.

"You look like home," you replied quietly, just barely loud enough for her- and Steve (curse that super soldier's hearing)- to hear.

She really did look like home. Her dress was long sleeve and snug, ending just below her knees and made of the softest cashmere. It was cozy and warm and loving, just like her, just like home.

The smile she let show threatened to overtake her lips, so she ducked her head as she always did. Perhaps even more so, considering the amount of alcohol she'd ingested.

You were the only one not drinking, which probably had something to do with the fact that you were seven months pregnant... with twins. You felt like you could hardly move and you the thought of two more months made you simultaneously groan and smile. Not to mention, you hadn't used your powers in a few months; the pregnancy hormones had affected your abilities in a questionable way, and the last time you had tried to let the familiar cool water flow from your hands, nothing had happened. It simply seemed that they had.. petered out. And you were warned by Dr. Cho to avoid trying to use them too much anyway.

"I should probably go check on the intelligence report," you said, sighing. Given that you were the only completely sober being present, it was your task to check on the latest intelligence report currently running after some curious and daunting messages of late.

Natasha nearly pouted, before standing and gripping your forearms with the gentle strength that only your wife could perfect. You groaned, all of your muscles giving maximum effort to stand from a seated position, your large abdomen giving you little room to move.

"God, I have two more months of that," you muttered.

"And it's only going to get harder," Clint chimed in, chuckling sympathetically. You sent him a mock glare.

"I'll go with you," Nat stated, a hand falling to your back. She hardly let you go anywhere alone, not that you minded. Living in the Avengers compound was one of the safest places there was, but it also was a target.

"Sit, I'll go," Steve said, "I've got to check on Bucky anyway."

"Finally, Natasha, it is your turn to lose so one money," Tony grinned, shuffling the deck of cards. Your wife retook her seat, rolling her eyes.

Steve met you next to the couch, offering an arm, which you took gladly. The team had been nothing but supportive after finding out about the pregnancy. They were all in agreement regarding your safety and protection. It was automatic at this point for them to watch over you, something that warmed your heart daily.

"How is Bucky?" you questioned.

"He misses being able to walk," Steve chuckled. "That's what he gets for fighting on a torn knee."

"It's been a week since surgery, right?"

He nodded. "And another week before he'll be able to get up and walk on it."

You hummed sympathetically. It was what all of you hated the most- feeling useless, being unable to be an Avenger. You had grown quite accustomed to the feeling.

Your friend, reached out with his other hand to open the door for you, following you inside the intelligence room, curious what the report would say too.

You studied the screen and briefly leafed through some papers, stopping at another odd message printed. Your brow furrowed.

"What is it?" Steve asked.

"It's a date. Today," you answered, looking up to read his expression.

You'd seen the confusion and slight nervousness in his face before glass shattered in the not-so-far distance. Steve looked at you, panicked.

"We need to get you to the bunker."

"We don't even know what's-"

"It doesn't matter," he interrupted. Shouting then could be heard, growing closer in a split second. "Now."

You moved as quickly as you could, exiting only after Steve cleared the hallway. The two of you moved with expertise, albeit a bit slower than normal, towards the stairs. He helped you down the stairs, hurrying you along without rushing you. When you turned down the hallway that held the bunker, several beings masked in dark leather suits and glowing face shields awaited you.

"Stay back," Steve commanded, not even waiting for a response before running toward them at full speed. He pulled a knife from his pocket and set to work. You felt utterly useless, powerless, as you watched them swarm him. A few tried to sneak past to you, but he wouldn't let them come even close. You stood, anxious, barely breathing. Two swift hits to the stomach and knees had Steve knocked on the ground, stumbling for his footing. On instinct, you stepped forward, hands out in front of you.

You had no thoughts as you summoned the familiar tingle of your powers, forgetting completely that they may not even work for you. When coolness flowed through your fingertips, you only then realized you hadn't been able to do that for a while, and you probably shouldn't be doing it now.

But it didn't matter, there were enemies at hand, and you were an Avenger.

So you let a wave hit the men with everything you had. It was nowhere what you had attempted to do, but it worked nonetheless. It gave Steve the opportunity he needed to jump up and take them out quickly.

He took the remaining problems out with ease and then ran back to you.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, you?"

"You shouldn't have used your powers," he said aloud, more a fact and realization at what you had done rather than a scolding.

"I know."

"Bunker," he stated, gently pushing you towards the door. "Stay inside until you get the 'all clear."

You nodded, finding the hidden keypad and locking yourself inside.

++++++

When Steve returned back up to the party, he found several similar bodies strewn about and a few slightly out of breath Avengers.

"Y/N?" Natasha demanded.

"In the bunker, safe and unharmed."

She nodded, a thanks to her good friend.

"Anybody know what the hell is going on?" Clint asked, setting his bow and arrow down.

"Just today's date written down in a message, we just saw it in the report but couldn't piece anything together," Steve answered.

Natasha heard that and knew there was nothing to answer for now, so she started towards the hallway.

"Nat, she used her powers."

Your wife turned on her heel at that, whipping in the soldier's direction faster than lightning.

"Call Cho," was all she said.

++++++

"Natasha is entering," JARVIS announced, causing you to sit upright, eyes glued to the door.

"Oh, thank god," your wife muttered, seeing you sitting unscathed. "Are you alright?" She rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you, eyes scanning your form, hand coming to rest against your cheek after she found nothing.

"I'm fine. Are you?" You turned to plant a kiss to her palm.

"Fine. You used your powers."

"Well, somewhat. They didn't work exactly right," you responded, frowning.

"What happened?"

You told her how you had saved Steve, well only by giving him a slight edge.

"What's wrong?" Natasha asked gently, picking up on your rather displeased tone.

"I feel useless," you whispered, tears pooling in your eyes as you shifted your gaze downward. Gentle fingers tugged your chin upwards until you were forced to meet those familiar emerald eyes.

"You are growing two human beings. That is not useless. I know you aren't avenging right now, but you did just save Steve, even if your powers were limited. Just because you can't do what you normally used to doesn't mean you aren't doing other things that aren't just as amazing, baby."

The corners of your lips twitched upwards, your mood already lifting.

"That's my girl. Now let's go upstairs, Cho is going to check you out."

"Natasha, I'm-"

"I don't care if you're fine," she tutted. "I'm not taking any chances."

With that, she kissed you softly and helped you upright.

++++++

BONUS

"And you know what she said?" Steve asked, a hand placed over his heart as he sat next to Bucky in bed. "You look like home." He sighed softly, as he thought of his two friends who were so beyond perfect for one another.

"How is that supposed to make my knee better?"

#natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha romanoff x femreader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanov x reader #black widow x reader #avengers x reader #avengers #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #black widow #mine

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 1 year ago

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Request from @imagine-all-the-fandoms: You have a crush on each other but of course don't talk about it. Then one night you enter the living room all dressed up for a date and buck is totally flashed by you, until you ask for his opinion on it. When he realizes this is for another guy he gets all moody and leaves. Then instead of your date, you head to Bucky's room and decide to finally make a move and kiss him and admit your feelings, which leads to sleeping with him and afterwards lots of cuddles and cute Bucky?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: 18+ angsty feelings, some fluff at the end, reader's relationship with an OC, smut, p in v sex without barrier protection, jealous and possessive behavior from Bucky, very minor injury

Bucky Barnes was your best friend. Maybe you might not be his. But how exactly does one compete with Steve Rogers?

Anyway, that was how you felt. Bucky didn't open up to many people, and you felt honored to be included amongst his few trusted individuals. It had been a year ago that you became part of the Avengers initiative. It hadn't taken you long to be accepted as part of the team, become everyone's favorite confidante, in fact.

There was something about you that people trusted, they would open up to you in a way that they didn't to anyone else. Your charms had even managed to weave their magic over one grumpy super soldier. And he was by far your favorite follower.

It had taken a few weeks before he had given in to your spell, finally admitting his love of pancakes to you during one of your midnight snack quests. It was the first piece of personal information he had shared with you and you always remembered it. In fact you'd joined him for a midnight pancake treat on many occasions since that day.

The way you smiled at him lit up his world. Bucky was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. He wasn’t the only one. Objectively, people wouldn’t have described you as the most beautiful person or the hottest, but there was something about you that shone, the expressiveness of your eyes, the kindness in your heart and the unknown bounds of your acceptance of others that drew people to you. Your personality was all anyone saw once they spoke to you and it was stunning.

There were times though, when it all became too much for you, listening to people's problems got a little overwhelming. It was these times that you sought out the company of people you trusted, the people who really saw you for who you were, a slightly nerdy introvert. The list was small; it included Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers and your favorite, James Barnes.

There was something about the solitary supersoldier that intrigued you. He didn't spill his problems to you like others did, you'd had to work very hard at gaining his trust but once you had, you felt like you'd discovered a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Bucky had an unexpected depth and his interests were surprisingly in tune with yours. Steve always seemed to be lost in documentaries when you sat down for down time with him and Nat found joy from horror movies which were far from your taste in cinematography. But Bucky was happy to watch a fantasy or science fiction film with you any time, dawn or dusk.

Bucky enjoyed your interests, but it was your company he enjoyed more. You made him feel comfortable, you didn't ask him intrusive questions, you forgave his selective mutism if he was having a bad day, making no irritating attempts to make him feel happier or better as the other members of the team were so apt to do. No, you let him be himself, in fact, you almost seemed to like his sullen silences.

What he liked the most was that you seemed to be a different person when he was around. You seemed more relaxed, the radiant sunshine demeanor that you exuded became muted, as though you knew that he needed a dimmer switch to help him cope. His scowls were far less ferocious when you were around but woe befell anyone who interrupted or invaded his time with you, his face would become dark and his mood would often turn sour. The only person who he would gracefully accept as an outsider to your pair was Steve. In short, Bucky Barnes was in love with you. Not that he would ever let it show.

The only person who could see Bucky’s feelings for you was Steve. He would smile in a knowing way when he walked in on the two of you laughing together, sharing a plate of nachos. He knew from the way you curled up at Bucky’s side that you harbored similar feelings. The only difference for you is that you had convinced yourself that Bucky couldn’t possibly feel the same way. Friendship was one thing, but you couldn’t imagine that he would want anything more than that. One day, when you had seen a female agent flirting with Bucky and he had smiled back, turned on the 1940’s charm that he apparently was famous for, that was the day you’d decided to put your feelings aside and move on with your life.

It was that decision that led to your current situation. A new dress and fancy heels later, you trotted to the common living area to get your bestie’s opinion. Your makeup was perfect, highlighting your prominent features and Bucky thought you looked radiant as you paraded your dress in front of him, seeking his approval. Naturally, you had it, you always had his approval, it didn’t matter what you were wearing.

“Where are you going all dolled up like that?” Bucky looked you up and down, admiring the view.

“Sidney and I are going out.”

“Oh, that sounds fun. You’ve been hanging out with her a lot. It’s nice that you’re getting along with the other agents too,” he smiled. Bucky was always encouraging of you, even if he would have preferred to keep you all to himself.

You laughed. Bucky usually reveled in the sound, but today he would be wishing he hadn’t heard it at all.

“Bucky!” you swatted his arm playfully. “Sidney is a guy. The guy I’m dating. I’ve told you about this.”

“Yeah, Buck, I did.” You pouted, “were you just pretending to listen?”

“What? No you didn’t.”

“Of course not, you said you were going to minigolf. You were so happy because you won.” Bucky smiled slightly at the memory. How you’d come home with red cheeks from the cold and the joy of winning at minigolf.

“That was our fourth date.”

Bucky was quiet for a moment. “Are you dating a woman?” he asked quietly.

“No, Buck. I mean I have, but Sidney isn’t one.”

“Oh,” Bucky mumbled, processing the information you'd given him.

Your sexual history didn't bother him, it was your present that did. Suddenly Bucky didn't want to look at you. Knowing you'd be spending your time with another man looking the way you did. He hated the thought. He wanted you to dress up for him that way, he wanted to be the one who ripped that pretty little dress off your body, he wanted to be the one who got to kiss you, to touch you, to claim every single part of you. But instead he got to watch another man sweep you off your feet.

“Well I better finish getting ready.”

You gasped as Bucky stood up suddenly.

“You're unbelievable,” he muttered, a darkness descending across his handsome features.

“What's that supposed to mean?” you asked, angrily.

“Nothing. Go have fun on your date.” Bucky stormed out without a backward glance.

He left you in the living room feeling lost and alone. Tears sprung into your eyes and your enthusiasm for your night out fizzled out completely. You couldn't understand his behavior, the sergeant had always treated you so well. Had you done something to upset him?

The sadness you felt was suddenly overcome with anger. Whatever it was that had upset him, you didn't deserve the attitude he was displaying towards you. In fact, you were going to tell him just that. But first, you picked your phone to make a call.

“Hey Sidney? … Yeah about that. I'm sorry Sidney. I know you went to a lot of trouble organizing tonight. I was really looking forward to it. But something’s come up here. I can't get out of it.”

You sighed, hanging up the phone. Sidney had been understanding, waving off your apology with such grace. On paper, he was the perfect partner for you, he was handsome, he shared so many of your interests and he accepted you for who you were. But you didn't feel butterflies when you thought of him, your face didn't light up when you spoke about him, he didn't fill you with warmth the way Bucky did.

Outrage still bubbled under the surface as you put your phone back on the dressing table in your room, so you decided to address the person who had caused the issue. You marched down the corridor, your stiletto heels clacking angrily as you made your way to Bucky’s room. As you pounded on the door, it flew open just in time for you to fling your hands up protectively as an object hit the wall beside your head.

Bucky’s eyes went wide as he saw the shock on your face. He had been pacing up and down his room and caught sight of a photo of the two of you smiling at each other. He couldn’t bear to see it anymore, to look at you when you didn’t look back at him that way. He had grabbed the photograph, letting it fly away from him in an attempt to extinguish the anguish he felt.

“Wow, do you hate me that much?” you asked. Your anger evaporated as quickly as it had arrived.

Bucky stood, speechless, as you bent down and picked up the smashed photo frame.

“Be careful,” Bucky warned you, as your shoe crushed a piece of broken glass.

“I know how to take care of myself.”

“And going out with some random man who knows nothing about you is what? … safe?”

“Why do you even care, Bucky?”

“You're my friend, you think I want you to get hurt?”

“What makes you think that I need that from you? I mean, if this is what you think of our friendship.” You held up the broken picture frame as a reference to your comment. A single tear slipped down your cheek.

Bucky had the decency to look ashamed of himself, at least that is how you interpreted the look on his face. What you didn't see was the guilt that bubbled under the surface, the devastation at the thought of losing you to someone else.

“He isn't good enough for you.”

You scoffed. “You don't even know him.”

“I don't need to.”

He approached you slowly and stopped right in front of you. If you hadn't spent months getting to know him, you'd be afraid of him, the way his vibranium fist clenched and unclenched repeatedly. But you knew it was a nervous tic of his, not a threatening one.

Bucky bent down and started picking up the shards of glass, then with a low voice, he mumbled something.

“You deserve to be with someone who knows how special you are.”

Had you heard him correctly?

You crouched down to help him with the cleaning.

“Leave that, I'll do it.”

“Bucky…” You picked up a small piece of glass between your fingers. “What do you mean?”

“You'll hurt yourself.” He took the glass from you.

You wrapped your hand around his wrist. “Bucky,” you whispered.

But Bucky couldn't look at you, that voice inside his brain that blamed himself for the actions of the Winter Soldier was the same one that often told him that he wasn't good enough for you. How could anyone as bright as you care for someone who held such darkness inside of him? He stood up, hiding his expression from you.

You sighed, reaching down to pick up one last piece. But you were hurt and careless and the sharp edge sliced your finger, drawing blood, making you hiss with pain.

“I told you to leave it alone!” He grabbed your wrist this time, trying to examine your wound. “This is exactly why I told you not to touch it. It won't hurt me.”

“I don't understand why you're upset.”

“This isn't deep.” He let go of your arm, walking away from you.

“What do you want from me, Bucky?”

“I don't want you to date him.”

You were surprised but you didn’t let it show on your face. “Okay.”

“Okay? Just like that?” Bucky frowned in confusion.

“Yeah.”

“No explanation needed?”

“I want you to be happy. And if this upsets you, I won't date Sidney.” You sighed, you hated that he had this power over you, that you were willing to give up a chance for your own happiness because Bucky said so. But you knew you would do anything for him, even if you ended up being single for the rest of your life. And it was all very overrated anyway, happy relationships, you didn’t know anyone who didn’t have problems with the people they had attached themselves to. Who needed a family, it was all nothing but trouble, you said to yourself.

“I don't want to lose you,” Bucky muttered.

“Bucky, you'll never lose me.” It felt like you were telling him you loved him without using the actual words. Rising up onto your toes, you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. “I care about you, Bucky.”

Bucky brought his hand to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb, wiping away the streak of fluid your tears had left. He leaned in towards you until you could feel his breath against your lips. You opened and closed your mouth, feeling like a goldfish because no sound would come out. The way Bucky was looking into your eyes had rendered you speechless. It almost felt like the love you felt for him was being reflected back at you. You wanted to kiss him but you couldn’t move. His nose brushed lightly against yours and then his lips were pressed against yours. It started out gentle, his mouth against yours, lips moving in tandem, until his tongue sought out yours. The taste of you seemed to ignite a deeper desire inside him because suddenly his arms were wrapped around you, pulling you closer, closer than you’d ever been to him, enveloped in his embrace as his hands roamed over your back, fingers pushing into you through the fabric of your little black dress.

You wrapped your arms tightly around Bucky's neck and as he straightened his back, you were lifted off the floor. The only way for you to support yourself was to wrap your legs around his waist, and Bucky's hands on your ass gave you the encouragement you needed to take this next step. Soon your core was rubbing against his crotch and Bucky stumbled across to the bed, laying you down with surprising tenderness. He knelt down between your splayed legs and smiled at you with an adoring gaze.

“I've wanted this for so long,” he whispered, as though a loud noise might wake him for this dream.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn't you?”

You laughed to yourself, both of you had been so afraid of losing the other that you'd missed out on the happiness you'd sought from each other.

“Do we have to talk about this right now? I want to go back to the kissing,” you pouted.

This earned you one of those rare joyous laughs from him, ones that he often saved for you. You treasured each and every one of these, they were so rare and precious. Bucky captured your protruding lower lip between his teeth, giving it a playful tug before going back to the heated lip lock you'd been engaged in earlier.

Only when he was grinding his hips into yours and moaning that a horrifying thought entered your mind.

“Bucky,” you called his name quietly.

“Mmm?” he hummed, not taking his lips off the spot on your neck that he was sucking enthusiastically.

“Buck… stop.”

There was a pop as the seal of his lips on your neck broke. “Are you okay?”

“I can't…”

“I'm sorry,” Bucky backed away, like he'd been burned.

“Buck, wait,” you reached for his hand. “I mean, I need to talk to Sidney.”

“Oh, yeah, right. Of course, you have a date.”

“Bucky, I need to break it off with him before we… I don't want to be that person. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, sitting down beside you as you pulled the straps of your dress back over your shoulder.

“Can you give me some time to go talk to him?”

Bucky nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak lest his voice betrayed his disappointment. But you knew him well enough to read his face.

“Hey, I'll be back. I promise.” You held out your pinky for him to take.

He smiled and linked his little finger with yours. One of the things he admired most about you was your integrity. You stood up, leaning back for one more quick kiss before you walked away, only letting go of his hand once you both couldn't extend your arms any further. You stole one last look at him before closing the door.

On your way back to your room, you called Sidney, asking him to meet you, before you changed out of your dress and into more comfortable clothes. A heavy guilt settled on your chest, you knew you'd be hurting him but you knew you couldn't offer him your whole heart, not when you knew Bucky was at home waiting for you. The next hour was a difficult one for you, you did your best to be gentle and considerate of Sidney’s feelings as you let him down.

“Look Sidney, I’m really sorry about this, I didn’t mean to string you along.”

“But you’re in love with someone else.” Sidney looked at you with a sad smile.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “How do- what makes you say that?”

“It’s the way you talk about Sergeant Barnes,” he said knowingly.

“I’m sorry.” You turned your head to hide the tears threatening to escape.

“He’s a lucky man.” Sidney leant down and gave you a peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you around.”

You sighed as you made your way back home, still feeling a little deflated about what you’d just done. But a promise was a promise and you didn’t want to keep Bucky waiting. It was the thought of Bucky that stopped you dragging your feet but you made a pitstop in your room to freshen up your makeup.

Before you knew it, you were back outside Bucky’s door and you were pretty certain your heart skipped a beat as you knocked nervously. What if he had changed his mind?

There clearly wasn’t cause for concern because Bucky opened the door so fast, you wondered if he had just been standing on the other side waiting for you. He wrapped his arm around your waist and scooped you into his chest, shutting the door with the edge of his foot.

Bucky kissed you as though he hadn’t seen you in years and you melted into him with a sigh.

“You were gone too long,” he pouted. “I missed you.”

“You okay?” he asked, a tinge of concern in his voice as he ran his thumb along your jaw. “I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

He was right, it hadn’t been easy for you to break off your relationship with Sidney. You never enjoyed hurting other people. You made time for people’s problems, even when you were exhausted, always ready to lend that extra helping hand. Your generosity of spirit was another reason that Bucky admired you. It made you smile, the way he understood your feelings without you having to explain them to him.

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

Being with Bucky seemed to make your problems disappear and your feelings for him surged to the surface.

“Are you sure?” he asked, nuzzling your ear and peppering the side of your neck with tiny kisses.

“Yeah, glad to be here with you,” you hummed, enjoying the way his skin felt against yours.

“You sure you haven't got any more men stashed away that I need to know about?” he mumbled.

You pulled away slightly, just to look him directly in the eye so he knew the sincerity of your next words. “No secret stash. Only you.”

“Just me?” Bucky put his hands on cheeks, putting his fingers under your jaw to tilt your face up to look at him.

“I'm all yours, Bucky.”

You leaned up, puckering your lips for a kiss and he obliged. Locked at the mouth, he led you backwards until your heels hit the edge of the bed.

“Tell me again,” he growled, pushing his chest against you til you were falling backwards onto the mattress.

Only your fall wasn't uncontrolled, Bucky's strong hands had settled on you back and he guided your descent. You grabbed the front of his Henley in your hands and pulled him down on top of you.

“Yours,” you claimed his lips hungrily.

“That's right, mine,” his voice rasped, making you tingle with anticipation.

He pushed his hips against yours, grinning proudly as you moaned in approval.

“You like that, huh?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you heard his belt unbuckling, hearing a clang as it fell onto the floor. He pushed his hand under the seam of your leggings and slid it between your legs. A wanton moan left your mouth as you felt his fingers rubbing on your clothed core.

"Look at you, Doll. You're so fucking wet...and I haven't even touched you yet." Bucky’s voice was low and rumbled through you like thunder.

He wiggled his fingers under your panties and between your folds, smirking into your neck and a gasp escaped your lips. Before you knew it, your eyes were rolling back as his fingers stroked your pussy.

“Bucky,” you whined as his fingers delved deeper.

It barely registered as his vibranium fingers pulled down your leggings and joined its flesh twin on your clit. Your breathing quickened to match the pace that he was pushing his fingers into you. Every push had you uttering a quiet sigh as he caressed your walls.

“So wet,” he hummed. “I’m the only one who can touch you like this. The only one who can make you feel like this, right?”

“Only you, Bucky.”

Before you could enjoy Bucky’s fingers more, they left your body. You whimpered at the loss. His hands went to the fabric around your waist, tugging it down until it was off completely and he used his hands to open your legs further. You tried not to gawk at him as he removed his clothes, layer by layer. It wasn’t as though you hadn’t seen Bucky shirtless before, but watching him strip between your spread legs was making you melt. He knelt down at your core, hands ripping apart your bra before kneading your breasts and rolling your nipples in between his fingers. You moaned out when Bucky pinched your nipples harshly.

“Nothing but you,” you repeated, biting your lip with anticipation.

“Doll, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll completely forget who Sidney ever was. I’ll give you my love until you’re satisfied. You’ll think of nothing but me.”

“Good. Now let’s make sure that you will never be able to look at that man again without thinking of this moment," Bucky groaned as he began to nibble on your neck.

His lips sucked and nibbled at your skin, marking his territory. He tugged his underwear down his thighs, using his other hand to line his cock up with your entrance. Slowly and sensually, he rubbed his tip against you, getting lost in his own pleasure for a moment, forgetting to remind you who you belonged to. Loud moans escaped your mouth as he slammed into you with hardly any warning.

"Fuck, you're so tight, Doll,” Bucky groaned into your ear. “Feel so good.”

Bucky lifted your legs up onto his chest so your calves rested on his shoulders. He pulled your hips into his and started pushing into you repeatedly, almost mercilessly.

“Sidney only wishes that he could fuck you like this,” he leaned over so his face was up close to yours. “But no one will ever fill you up like I can. No one can make you feel good the way I can. You’re mine, Doll, only for me to have.”

“Buc-” you breathed, barely able to speak.

“What are you?”

“Yours Sergeant, I’m all yours. Promise. Yours. Only yours!” you repeated over and over.

Desperate for your release, you reached down to your clit.

“Don’t even think about it,” Bucky growled. “You come on my cock screaming my name or you don’t come at all.”

Bucky leaned forwards til his face was inches from yours, bending your legs right up to your chest.

"You feel that, Doll? You feel how I fill you up?" Bucky demanded.

You nodded, unable to speak at first. Eventually you gasped out the words, "I feel you, Bucky.”

"And could he ever make you feel as good as I make you feel?" Bucky asked before going back to fucking you hard and fast.

"No Bucky, never,” you moaned.

You could feel your orgasm approaching far more rapidly than normal and Bucky had gone back to marking his territory with his lips on your skin. It almost burned where he was sucking against your clavicle.

“Bu- Buck-”

“Yeah?” He slowed to respond to your attempts at his name.

His lips were only inches away from yours. All you wanted was to meet them, but instead, Bucky bit your lip harshly, making you throw back your head in pleasure as he kept sucking on you.

"That's what I want to hear," Bucky cooed as he finally kissed you.

He buried his face into your breasts as his thrusts became more frantic. His hands snaked around your waist, a surprisingly soft action for all the roughness he’d displayed up until this point. The moans he released into your ear alone would make you come. The feeling of his balls slapping against your ass, cock diving deep inside of you, sent you spiraling.

“Bucky!” You muttered his name, unable to focus on anything but the way his cock and hands worked your body, filling you to the brim. Pleasure completely overwhelming your mind and body.

“That’s right, Doll. You were made for me.”

“Please, Bucky, I want to come!” There was nothing that could stop the cry that leaves your lips, you needed it so badly, you wanted him so badly.

“Do it already,” Bucky goaded. “Come for me. Come because I want you to.”

“Yes Bucky, yes!” You as his words finally pushed you over the edge, his name leaving your lips as you finally reached your peak.

The only thing you could think of was his cock thrusting inside you. Your pussy clenched and tightened around his cock making him release with a grunt and a moan as he coated you in his seed. He stayed inside you, catching his breath, playing with your hair, looking into your eyes with such complete adoration that it almost took your breath away. At least until he pulled out of you slowly, making his cum spill out of you and drip across your abdomen.

“You did such a good job, Doll,” Bucky whispered to you as he softly kissed your forehead. “My pretty girl. You rest now, let me clean you up.”

You pushed yourself up the bed, trying to avoid spilling his seed all over the clean bed sheets. Bucky reappeared quickly with a washcloth and started wiping himself off your skin, parting your legs gently and cleaning over your folds.

“Bucky, I-” you reached out to stop him, suddenly feeling incredibly self conscious about this new level of intimacy. “You don't have to.”

Bucky sat down beside you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Let me take care of you,” he murmured, voice filled with tenderness.

He finished up and lay down beside you, giving you one of his looser fitting t-shirts which you slipped over your head gratefully. You tucked yourself into his side and rested your head on his shoulder, sighing as his fingers fluttered over your thighs and over the curve of your ass.

“Was that okay?” he whispered into your hair, his warm breath blowing against the bare skin on your neck.

“It was amazi-.” You started answering but your voice was interrupted by a loud growl from your stomach.

“Still hungry, huh?”

You blushed, hiding your face in his warm sturdy chest.

“Want to grab some dinner. Can't have my best girl starving.”

A warmth spread through you at his words. “Maybe in a bit? I don't want to move yet. Is that okay?” You looked up at him.

He smiled down at you, placing a small kiss at the tip of your nose. “Perfect.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction

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eviesaurusrex · 1 year ago

Text

—ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ | ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋʏ

GIFs not mine!

summary: Perfect moments with their best girl.

word count: 5.5k ooooopsie

warnings: nothing, tooth-rotting fluff because these two deserve the world, kissing, two big, strong men being softies for their girl, but also sometimes in overprotective mode, reader is described as shorter than them, allusion to smutty smut and lingerie, short make-out session, an ex is making a short appearance, not entirely proofread

author’s note: I’ve never written something for Stucky, but thanks to tumblr, I’ve shipped them for a very long time and had to do this, so here we are. Don’t hate me for this being utter shit, thanks.

* * *

Sunny days were her favorites. So, sunny days were naturally entirely reserved for her when everyone had gotten time off missions. When the weather forecast predicted sunny days ahead, Steve and Bucky did everything to try and get these days off, especially when the weeks lying behind them had been filled with rain and clouds.

Their best girl was a vitamin D junkie, so they became vitamin D junkies as well.

Her sigh, full of contentment, let hearts flutter as Bucky watched the woman they loved bathing in the warming rays of sunshine, his shades perched on her pretty nose. Nothing of her wasn’t pretty, especially when the sun tickled her skin and let her seem as radiant as the burning star itself.

She had her arms crossed under her head, an opened novel resting on her slowly moving chest, her pretty lips slightly parted, and her eyes closed behind the tinted glass. At the sight of her relaxed state of mind, cruel but crucial missions finally somewhere in the very back of her head, Bucky couldn’t stop himself. Staring wasn’t enough to satisfy his craving at that particular moment, and he bent his head to press a sweet kiss to her even sweeter-tasting lips, humming in amusement at the little gasp leaving her mouth before she herself hummed in contentment and kissed him back.

“What was that for?” YN asked, eyes now opened to stare up at the handsome brunet looming over her as he still was propped up on his arm right next to her on the picnic blanket they had placed somewhere in Central Park near the lake. He started playing with strands of her hair and shrugged one shoulder, a breathtaking smile slowly stretching over his face, even reaching his pretty blue eyes and making them sparkle with happiness. “Nothin’, doll. Just felt like kissin’ ya,” Bucky mumbled close to her lips after he had bent down again, but Steve’s voice made him stop a mere millimeter apart from her. “Already startin’ without me even though I got’ya some food and iced coffee on my way here? Rude.” But his smile told something else.

Pushing Bucky off of her with a hand pressed against his chest, YN reached up as soon as the blond super soldier had knelt on their blanket and tangled her fingers in the neckline of his light blue shirt. “He started,” she whispered conspiratorially with a giggle, well knowing that the other super soldier could hear her words just perfectly. His quiet scoff just underlined it. But Steve only grinned happily and obliged without so much as a second thought as YN pulled him downward to her face and kissed him Hello. “You said something about iced coffee, if I remember correctly?” He hummed in approval and reached for the paper cup holder to get her current favorite summer drink. “Couldn’t let you enjoy the day without it.” Another kiss came close after before his blue eyes followed YN’s movements as she grabbed the cup, took a deep sip, and lay back down again, snuggling closer into Bucky’s chest.

Steve followed close by, putting down the food and the other two drinks he had gotten for them, and settled on her other side onto the blanket, his long legs stretched out and crossed at his ankles. Bucky smiled at him over their best girl’s body and couldn’t stop himself from bending over YN to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s cheek, grinning at the blush creeping up into his cheeks, still not used to the openly shown affection from either of them. It was like a dream, and he loved how his life had turned—how all their lives had turned.

YN had watched her two lovesick men with a gentle smile before littering both their handsome faces with kisses until it was her who was showered in kisses, turning her into a giggling mess underneath the sun. They ignored every single look thrown their way, not caring for the people and their silly thoughts because they were as happy as probably humanely possible. They bathed in her adorable sounds, savored every single touch of her skin, and every single look and smile she showed them.

“How’s our sun girl today,” Steve mumbled against her lips, feeling Bucky’s fingers carding through his hair and YN’s thumb caressing his cheek, her smiling lips pressing almost open-mouthed kisses to his. “Perfectly and utterly content.” It was only a sighed whisper, but it was enough to make both their hearts flutter again. It still was a somewhat adrenaline rush to realize how happy they made this woman, how lucky they’ve been that she loved them both, just as they both loved her. It still continued to blow their minds how open they could be nowadays, how little the majority of people cared when they saw the trio strolling through the city, sharing kisses, holding hands, walking as closely next to one another as possible. Sometimes, Steve just had to think that all this was nothing but a dream and that he would wake up any minute now, back in his sickly body and his loved ones entirely out of reach.

“Hey.”

Bucky drew him out of his mind and back to their cozy little spot in Central Park, blue eyes meeting blue eyes, dark brows worryingly drawn together. The blond super soldier only shook his head slightly, a smile tucking at the corner of his mouth as he looked from one worried face to another, swiftly pressing easing kisses to both their cheeks. “It’s alright. I’m okay. Jus’ tired and too much in my head. Wanna try one of these loaded donuts I found on my way?” YN squealed at that and sat up faster than both men would’ve considered possible, smiling at one another behind her back before following close to at least get a single bite of those treats before they vanished right before their eyes.

Sometimes, this woman really blew their minds.

* * *

It was already dark outside; the night stretching across the window-covered wall of their shared room at the compound, and the moon shining brightly into the dimly lit bedroom. Steve was lying on his side of the massive and custom-manufactured bed Tony had gifted them last Christmas after he had been tired of hearing YN groan and whine about the little space she had between two buffed super soldiers. Now, she was sprawled like a cute little sea star over him and the rest of the bed, almost seemingly covering every bit and appearing a lot taller than she actually was compared to the two men she called the loves of her life. Steve sometimes had to ask himself how she managed to cover basically every inch of the bed while also being sprawled atop their bodies, and some nights even managed to fall out of the bed.

This woman was an enigma to him, but Steve loved her even more for that. It didn’t matter that some nights he felt a foot or an elbow in his ribs or that Bucky always woke him when he single-handedly manhandled YN back into her designated spot of their bed without paying attention to where Steve was sleeping. Even if he could change everything, he wouldn’t change a single thing. This was what he’d always wanted back in the days, what he envied people for. It simply was perfection.

One of his large hands softly and lovingly drew indescribable patterns on YN’s partly exposed skin, his other hand holding the novel he was currently reading after she had bought it during one of their many dates in the city. It was her love language—picking books and gifting them. And Steve happily obliged and started reading it right away. His eyes couldn’t leave the words on the pages, already deeply enraptured by the story unfolding in front of his eyes, head sometimes dipping to his right to press a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. Her slow but deep breathing was the only sound except for his in the room, and in his eyes, it was the only thing he’d ever need in his life—that and Bucky’s heartbeat next to hers when they all drifted off to sleep.

Suddenly, he felt YN moving more in her sleep, her fingers grasping his shirt like a lifeline, and a small whimper escaped her lips, brows deeply furrowed. He let the book rest on the blanket thrown over both of them and started humming the tune of one of her favorite songs while also pressing feather-light kisses to her forehead, trying to pull her unconsciousness out of the bad dream and back to something bright and joyful. And it worked like a charm, just as it always did, and soon, YN rested unmoving against his chest again, her breathing back to the long deep breaths of deep slumber.

Steve picked up his book where he had left off, only to let his motion stop midair as his eyes found Bucky leaning against the doorframe, watching his two people with a small smile on his lips. “Bad dream again?” The blond nodded and put the book on the nightstand. “They come and go as they please.” Bucky had more experience with them than he had, so he just nodded in understanding and walked over to them. His duffel bag leaned against the wall as he sat down on Steve’s bedside, hands finding together and holding tightly onto one another. The brunet kissed the blond first before pressing a lingering kiss to YN’s forehead, sighing deeply as their familiar scent enveloped him and soothed his mind. “I’m too tired to take a shower, but she’ll tell me a piece of her mind when she wakes up and realizes I climbed into bed in my tactical gear,” Bucky groaned quietly, head resting at Steve’s shoulder, but then chuckled and pushed himself back up after he had felt a kiss to his temple. The Rogers grinned at that.

Yes, they were decades-old super soldiers and fought off the most dangerous people on this planet, but they feared the wrath of this tiny, delicate woman more than anything else in this world. And they never liked to upset her in the first place.

“Just a quick rinse. It’ll make you feel better,” Steve nudged Bucky gently and smiled lovingly at his deep sigh, watching his shoulders slump down and his body succumbing to the exhaustion after a mission. “Only a quick one. And only because I love you two.” With that, Bucky let his hand wander into Steve’s neck and pulled him towards him, but only so much as not to disturb YN in her much-needed sleep, and exhaled slowly as he felt their lips touching. “I could join you,” Steve mumbled into the kiss, feeling excitement rushing through his body at the thought alone, but knew Bucky would shake his head even before he actually did it. “You need to take care of our girl here. Y’know how easily she wakes up when no one is next to her.” Then, he smirked and kissed Steve slowly and languidly. “Remember, we have the entire weekend to ourselves. Just the three of us in here, unoccupied time. The little something I found for her should arrive tomorrow.” Steve’s breath hitched in his throat as the memory of a night spent online shopping moved back into his mind, accompanied by the mere anticipation he had felt when Bucky had found the scandalous piece they both knew she would love—until it would be on the floor, probably in lacey shreds.

Bucky chuckled as Steve finally pushed him off the bed. “Go and take a shower, sarge. I know someone is in need of her big spoon.” And he was right because as the other man climbed into their bed and pressed his chest against her back, YN smiled in her sleep and wrapped his arm tightly around her waist, nuzzling closer into each of her super soldiers, the bad dreams entirely gone for the night.

* * *

Choreomania echoed through the still empty apartment somewhere in Brooklyn, the sun filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, facing Prospect Park in its green beauty. YN hummed and sang along to the vinyl of Florence + The Machine, wearing an old pair of sweatpants—she wasn’t even sure who they belonged to, either Steve or Bucky—and an old tank top, and now, after hours filled with painting the walls, she was covered in paint splotches, her fingers raw from removing the old wallpaper meticulously, so she could paint the walls just like they preferred.

This would be their home. This would be their safe space. This would be the home of their family. And therefore, it had to simply be perfect. And that’s why YN was already in here, already working hard for their dream home to become a reality instead of a fleeting image in their heads, even though they had decided to do this together after Steve’s and Bucky’s last mission for the month. But she couldn’t wait. She wasn’t able to sit around at the compound, reading her books and watching her shows when she already had all the time possible at hand to do something.

Dipping the painter’s roll back into the color, YN quickly climbed the ladder to check the painter’s tape one last time, only to rearrange and re-stick it again. She was satisfied with the result after the adjustment; the blue tape line was now perfectly even, and the wall was ready to be painted. With a nod, the Avenger started to climb down the metal ladder, only to slip off it on her sock-clad feet. A shriek thought its way out of her throat as she felt herself falling and following earth’s gravitational forces until a pair of strong arms caught her mid-air and pressed her against a broad chest.

“Woah there, doll,” Bucky’s voice murmured close to her ear, and instinctively, YN’s arms circled his neck. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’ here all by yourself, hm?” She searched his crystal blue eyes with her own and shrugged, almost helplessly, at the sight of his worried gaze and his scrunched-up brows. YN couldn’t even get a word out of her mouth because suddenly, heavy steps echoed through the hallway, and Steve entered the living room, brows just as worriedly furrowed as his boyfriend’s. “What happened?” Immediately, he let go of the bags he had carried, letting them tumble to the hardwood floor just as she had almost done and hurried himself over to the pair, his eyes already scanning for possible injuries before his hands followed. They softly wandered over her arms and her legs, and Bucky let his hand feel her back up and down, only to hum, satisfied when she didn’t flinch in pain.

YN shrugged again and looked from one high-towering super soldier to the other. “I thought I could start on the walls already while you two are still in Prague.” Now that she thought about it… “What are you two doing here, anyway? You weren’t supposed to be back until, what? The day after tomorrow?” Then, she had to add: “I don’t mean I’m not excited to have you back already, in one piece, because I am—excited. Welcome home.” Her eyes almost teared up when she first pulled Steve down at his neck and kissed his soft lips gently before turning her head to Bucky and kissing him just as lovingly. The two soldiers smiled softly down at the woman between them, still lying in Bucky’s arms, and recognized the feeling swirling inside them instantly: pure happiness and domestic bliss.

“You should’ve waited for us, baby girl,” Steve muttered after the brunet had sat her back on her feet, and he had the opportunity to take a gentle hold of her hands. The delicate tips of her fingers were an angry red, her skin plastered in probably toxic paint, and the grumble of her stomach had been heard by the two men downstairs when they first arrived at their new home. “I’m fine. It’s nothing, really, Stevie. The mustard-yellow wallpaper just put up a harder fight than anticipated, but I conquered it.” Her proud grin warmed the two men from the inside, and Bucky wrapped his arms around her shoulders, propping his chin atop her head. “Well, that fight must’ve been a sight to behold,” he chuckled before his metal thumb started to draw circles into her upper arm. “But I think someone forgot to look after herself, so you’ll take a break now and eat something while we’re dealing with the walls. Alright, doll?”

Quietly muttering, YN obliged and nodded because she knew this wasn’t a fight she could ever win. Steve and Bucky were too protective for that, too worried about her well-being to let her have her way now. So she let these two settle her on their folded jackets, back propped up against the wooden passage frame, and takeout from her favorite Chinese restaurant in hands. Her eyes never left them, watching them as they quickly tried to wipe her skin clean of the smelly paint before pressing kisses to her face, reminding her to eat her lunch, and went to work.

They stared at her progress for a moment, trying to figure out what her vision had been for their living room, before grabbing the painter’s rolls and rolling off the excess paint in the plastic bins. “You did such a great job, doll.” Bucky smiled over at her, his heart aching beautifully as he watched his best girl starting to smile radiantly with the chopsticks between her lips, and he was sure she had never been more beautiful than now. “Oh, definitely. This will be done before you finish your food,” Steve added to the praise, smiling himself, as he started to paint the first wall while Bucky climbed the ladder to treat the bare wooden planks with oil.

“You two should do this all day, every day. You look hot renovating our home.” The words were almost swallowed by the bite of Chinese takeout and chopsticks still in her mouth, and YN felt her cheeks blushing when they both turned and looked over at her. “Oh, yeah? Maybe we should take off our shirts then, baby girl?” Steve wiggled his blond brows teasingly, and a laugh escaped him, head thrown back, as YN bombarded him with a napkin. “Don’t you dare. See that window over there?” She pointed to the window at one of the sides, facing the house on the other side of the street. “That woman living there already ogled you two when we first went here. It obviously doesn’t matter that she’s married, but you don’t have to fuel her ego or whatever.”

Quietly grumbling, YN stared down into the box of takeout, the urgent feeling of hiding her two boyfriends from the world almost overwhelming again. Sometimes, she couldn’t help herself and felt overly protective of them, and sometimes even jealous, especially when women tried to take them away from her. It was stupid, she knew that because she knew that these two would never leave her—and neither would she. The thought alone hurt. But sometimes, her brain morphed back to the state of mind she had before them when men always only played with her and never meant what they said. Steve and Bucky changed that, changed her. And now, she was certain that these men would never dump her.

YN didn’t realize the lack of sounds—the wet noises of even wetter paint against a dry wall and the occasionally rusty sound of the ladder when it ached under Bucky’s weight—too focused on munching on her food to distract her mind and think about anything but that awful woman on the other side of the road. She didn’t even hear the sounds of heavy steps creeping closer to her sitting form, and she only realized how close they were when Steve lifted her off the ground and into his arms, wrapping her legs around his hips and carrying her over to the aforementioned window. The woman felt the glass pressed against her back, and she swallowed the last bite down, cocking one brow at their antics. Bucky had settled himself right next to them, leaning sideways against the wall next to the window and letting his hand cup her cheek.

Switching between their faces, YN looked from one to the other, both brows now almost touching her hairline, and her head cocked to the side questioningly. “What are you doing?” Her voice sounded more breathless than initially planned, and her lips parted slightly when Steve turned his attention to her exposed sensitive neck, softly breathing against it before kissing it languidly. “We can’t have our doll being all broody and jealous,” Bucky whispered in Steve’s place, his thumb slowly caressing the skin over her cheekbone. “We can’t have our best and only girl think that stares of some woman would let us react in any way possible.” Now he bent his head to start kissing from her collarbone upwards to her chin, slowly and teasingly. “Need to show that woman who we belong to.” Steve hummed in agreement before he nibbled at her most sensitive spot, gently sucking the skin between his lips, and chuckled when he heard the familiar sound of a gasp of air. “And we only belong to one woman,” he finally mumbled, lips pressed against lips, kissing her like a man possessed, before he backed off to let Bucky get his turn with their girl. He kissed her like a man starved, all tongue and teeth until they both needed oxygen and parted with labored breaths, all the while Steve had his chin propped up on her shoulder, eyes staring contently out the window and occasionally kissing her neck.

“I think that woman will never look at us again, baby girl.”

* * *

Following her through her favorite bookshop was a simple task—and a simple pleasure. They loved to watch their girl strolling through the aisles, her eyes wandering over the colorful book covers in different designs and art styles, stopping more as she actually walked, always a new book in sight that had picked her interest and curiosity. They followed her like two broad shadows, always shielding her from the outside world because they knew how much she needed those hours of mindless strolling and discovering.

YN stopped again at that moment, eyes wandering over the entire length of the bookshelf until they stopped at a book in the top half of the shelf. Pressing herself onto the tiptoes, she tried to reach it, but still, she was too short. With a huff, the woman lowered herself again and turned to her two boyfriends, looking up at them with big, round, pleading eyes, even though YN knew very well that she didn’t need to beg. “Could you…?” She couldn’t even get the entire question out before Bucky was right at her side, one of his big hands resting on the small of her back. “Which one, doll?” Her finger instantly stretched out and pointed to a blue and purple book spine which the brunet grabbed without any signs of effort and handed it to her with a smile and a kiss to her lips. “Thank you, baby,” she grinned up at him before reading the blurb on the back of the book and decided to give it a new home on her bookshelf.

Finding its way into the crook of her elbow, YN continued down the aisles and didn’t even have to turn and ask one of them to grab her another book because both men knew that title by heart now. And it was the main reason they headed to the shop today. Steve pressed himself against her back as he took it from the shelf, one hand resting on her shoulder and lovingly squeezing it, his lips wandering from exposed shoulder to her neck. He reveled in the sounds of her soft giggles and grinned against her skin when she whispered a Thanks, Stevie, when she gathered the third book of her favorite series in her arms. “Any time, baby girl.” It was only a soft whisper against the nape of her neck before Steve took a step back for her to continue her strolling and gathered Bucky’s hand in his to intertwine their fingers.

“We will leave a tremendous amount of money again,” he chuckled as they watched their girl picking up two other books and piling them in her arm, and Steve laughed softly at that. “Try and see it as a donation and continued support of local businesses,” the blond countered, the grin still on his face as he nudged Bucky’s side lovingly with his arm. “At least we earn enough to keep up with her small book addiction.” Steve threw Bucky a look at that and couldn’t contain his laugh as the brunet winked at him and pulled him closer to his side to press a kiss to his lips. “Just wait for what books she picked out for us again. We still need you to let go of The Hobbit for a while,” teased Steve, a bubbling laugh bursting out of him when Bucky nudged his side now and rolled his eyes at him. “Yeah yeah, whatever.”

But then, he stopped for a moment as he looked in the aisles ahead of them—the empty aisles ahead of them. “Where did she go?” It was common for them to lose YN at some point, but it never happened so quickly and without either of them realizing it until it was too late. Steve softly rubbed his shoulder when he felt Bucky’s anxiety getting the best of him. “She’s probably just around the corner in the next aisles, Buck. Remember the list she wrote and forgot on the coffee table? She should be somewhere left of us now. C’mon.” Lovingly, Steve coaxed him to come with him, well knowing how Bucky tended to think the worst when YN just disappeared, still not entirely processing the fact that Hydra was destroyed and no one would ever come for her again.

But when they rounded the shelf and looked into the aisles where Steve had thought YN must be by now, only to not find her there, even his heart skipped a couple of beats. Bucky swallowed thickly next to him, his eyes jumping from one face to another, trying to find her between the shopping people. “It’s okay, Buck. See?” He pointed to the books and the sign reading Non-Fiction hanging above the bookshelf. “They reorganized. She took a right turn then. Okay?” The brunet inhaled deeply and nodded slowly, still not fully convinced. “Let’s find our girl before she raids the entire store,” Steve tried to lighten the mood when he pulled Bucky with him, only to pick up YN’s voice in the aforementioned right aisles.

“What do you want, Chandler? You see, I’m busy buying books which is way more important than your sorry ass. So… Off you go.”

Both super soldiers stopped at the crossing and stared the man down who had the audacity to cheat on this gorgeous woman in front of them. He never deserved her, and they had picked up the pieces he had left and built her up again. And now, he had the audacity to talk to her, to even breathe the same air as she did.

“Chandler.” Bucky’s voice was as deep as it gets, sending chills down every spine of every person who never heard the growl before. But Chandler was too stupid to sense the danger he found himself in because he had dared to talk to her. His eyes moved from them to YN before he chuckled lowly. “So, it’s true? You not only sleep with one but two of them? Or are you just a spectator when they’re at it?” Steve grabbed the shoulder of his boyfriend to hold him back, even if he felt like punching that idiot himself, especially when he leaned closer to her than they both liked. “Always knew you’re a fucking freak.”

They both were on their way to beat the hell out of him, but YN beat them to it. She let go of her books, only for the stack to softly levitate in the air instead of following the gravitational laws of this planet, and with one hand, she grabbed Chandler’s neck and pushed him against the bookshelf with astonishing ease. He gulped and looked helplessly at the two men, trying to get their help, but they just watched their girl being the badass they knew she was. “Listen, dumbass. You can insult me all you want because I couldn’t care less for your opinion about me, but—“ YN let her fingers grip tighter until he had trouble getting enough oxygen into his lungs. “—but don’t you dare and insult my men. I don’t take those lightly. Are we clear?” He nodded quickly, and she let go of him, a radiant smile now on her face. “Perfect. Then off you go now. Go go. Your little dolly is waiting over there, round eyes and all. You should check on her. That’s what you always could do best anyway.”

With a barely seen flick of her wrist, the books landed in her arm again, and with another smile, she turned to her two boyfriends, staring proudly down at her in her pretty sundress and her new possessions in hand. “I think I got everything I need for now,” she smiled up at them and let Steve grab the piling stack of books out of her arms to carry it for her.

Bucky pulled her into his side, his arm thrown over her shoulders and lips pressing kiss after kiss to the crown of her head as they followed Steve to the counter. “You didn’t have to do this, doll.” It was only a mumble, and YN almost didn’t hear it but caught up to it just in time to look up at him and wrap both arms around his middle. “Yes, I had to. No one is talking like that about my boys in front of me, ever. You wouldn’t take shit about me either, won’t you? You wouldn’t allow it.” He stopped to wrap both arms around his best girl and pulled her into his chest, bending his head to kiss both her cheeks and the tip of her nose. “You know we would never take anyone’s shit about you, doll. Never. Even if it’s minor, we would step in and stop it.” The thought alone that anyone would hurt her, physically or mentally, almost broke him. No, they would always protect their best girl; the cost didn't matter. It would always be them against the entire world.

Her smile illuminated the shop, and he oh so willingly let his face get pulled down by her fingers wrapped around his chin to be kissed once again. He would never get enough of her, either. “See?” She now grinned and grumbling, he caved and nodded. “Okay, Okay, I see your point, doll,” he finally muttered, a smile tucking at his lips nonetheless because he could never be mad at her.

Giggling, YN received the paper bag full of new books—even though she still had piles over piles of TBRs waiting at home—and let Bucky take it out of her hands, so she could walk in between her two super soldiers and hold each of their hands. But instead of following them on their familiar route after a successful book shopping tour, she gently but urgently pulled at their hands to make them turn right instead of left. Steve furrowed his brows and looked down at her, not really knowing what was wrong. “Baby girl? The coffee shop is this way.” He already softly pulled at her hand, always having his strength in check. “But I don’t wanna go there,” she started, and immediately, both grew worried again. It wasn’t like her not wanting her iced coffee alongside her new books, so she could sit in the sun and start reading. Steve’s thoughts already wandered to the bookshop situation, blaming it on Chandler and wanting to beat him up just like the boys back in the day beat him up. “If it’s because of him, we’ll make sure that he leaves if he’s even there,” Steve promised with an undertone, ready to move heaven and earth for their woman, but the shake of her head stopped him right there. “No! No, I just wanna… Well, maybe it’s because of him, but not because I’m upset about it, but because you are clearly upset about it. So, I just wanna head home, order some food, and read in bed while cuddling with you. Would that be alright?”

She looked from one towering man to the other and let her eyes fall shut as they both pulled her in, wrapping her in their wonderfully tight hugs. She let them kiss her in the middle of the sidewalk and felt loved and cherished to an extent that wasn’t possible before Steve and Bucky entered her life.

“Of course, doll.”

“Whatever you want, baby girl.”

But deep down, Bucky and Steve couldn’t get over the fact how perfect their best girl was.

* * *

Thank you for reading (even though it wasn’t the best thing ever written)! As usual: reblogs would be absolutely great, just as overall love for this piece, and I’d love to read whatever you thought while reading!

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bluntandsaucy · 3 months ago

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WHOS UR FAV STORMLIGHT CHARACTER

omg omg good question,,, i think it's hard because i really really really want to see more of both adolin and renarin. like they are the characters who i'm super excited when they get on-page and i'm just waiting for their chapters to happen.

on the other hand, if the books ended right now (i am halfway through row) then i would walk away with kaladin being my favorite character. he's just so iconic and slay. i love syl as well which adds to me loving kaladin, and something that i think mr. sanderson does really well is moving on from a character arc exactly when it's supposed to end? like nothing is too drawn-out, i'm never too tired of a kaladin arc (surgeon -> soldier -> slave -> soldier -> leader -> radiant -> soldier -> unemployed -> surgeon (again) -> therapist -> soldier). i really like all these iterations and change--it's not just one single character arc that we're getting, it's multiple and they're overlapping and they're always interesting. also he can fly and he has depression and "honor is dead but i'll see what i can do" was my favorite moment of the entire series so far. i love adolin and kaladin together btw.

but i really want to see more adolin, more renarin, and also more szeth? also i don't really care for dalinar tbh. like someone sue me but i typically like characters more who i can see going into many different directions in the future then characters who i feel are super defined by their past... a past that we only see in flashbacks (not a flashback girlie. sorry squad.)

#stormlight archive #fin reads stormlight #brandon sanderson #the stormlight archive #cosmere #kaladin stormblessed #adolin kholin #renarin kholin #szeth son son vallano #rhythm of war

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koco-coko · 11 months ago

Text

When the World Exploded - - Vincent x Jean - Ikemen Vampire Fic

-> His eyepatch was off, and yet the world didn’t end. In fact, it began anew.

Tags/Warnings <--> Angst then Fluff, Lots of Cuddles and Kisses, Soft and Slow, Bad Cooking, Hidden Relationship, Beginning of Relationship, HEAVY SPOILERS for BOTH suitors, Main POV: Jean D'Arc, HEAVY Exploration of Depression, Passive Suicidal Ideation and Religious Guilt.

Word Count: 5,005 (Around 12 pages)!

A/N <--> this originally started as super fluff but boy oh boy I forgot how messed up these two were. Still super fluff but wow I may have gone a little overboard. So please don't force yourself to read this if you're really sensitive to these things, promise I won't be hurt by it <:)

i think they might like this: @azulashengrottospiano @natimiles @weirdwriter69 (lots of interaction with the jean x vincent posts so i thought i'd tag sorry if you didnt want to be)

Jean never expected to be here. Jean didn’t expect to be alive. Jean didn’t expect much of anything, really.

So imagine his surprise to remember that a blonde painter had arms tightly wrapped around his waist and kept drawing him closer into the scent of dry paint and sunflowers, a hint of pancake batter mixed in there, too.

Jean tried to move away, only to have the arm around him tense and pull him further in. A small hum came from the sleeping painter, his head resting on back of Jean's neck. He couldn’t help it when an uncomfortable shudder went through him. His lips were so close to his ear, the beating of his heart right against his back…

Sure, they agreed beforehand but he never expected this. A part of him wanted to escape. It was all too much, too new. Yet Vincent wouldn’t let him get away, and maybe that was for the better. Despite the blank face and cold demeanor, he was sensitive to many, many things. A case of touch-starvation didn’t help the fact. After a momentary inner conflict, Jean let out a deep sigh and dug his face into the pillow beside him. He could do it. He fell asleep like this once tonight, he could do it again.

He came to learn that there were a lot of firsts when being revived as a vampire.

It was the first time he ever felt attracted to someone, let alone a man.

It was only when Vincent started painting outside more often that Jean started feeling… things. Tingles in his stomach whenever he saw the man paint a dark night sky with swirls of light. Shakes when he caught glimpses of a notebook filled with anatomy practice and fencing positions, all suspiciously bearing a resemblance to Jean. It could be argued that a few were Napoleon, though. The lines were messy enough. These sensations started following him around the mansion, too. At the dinner table, he always felt lighter when he heard Vincent giggle at something Arthur said. Eventually, a simple greeting smile sent a shiver through the poor soldier’s body and all he could do was scuttle off into the piano room.

Vincent was too radiant for a sinner to handle, he deduced. It seemed logical at the time. Jean’s chest was always empty and Vincent always had light to bring to someone. The world was a better place with Vincent in it and it was worse with Jean. That was just how things were. Jean was ready to accept that over… Well…

“Can I paint you?”

It was the first time anyone ever asked… that. Jean had been avoiding Vincent, more than usual, but one late night out of his room for a bottle of Rouge led to them meeting again. Vincent was already coated in paint, perhaps from a late night project, filling one of his paint cups with fresher water.

Jean was a frozen statue for a while, but when Vincent’s smile slowly faded, he suddenly came to. “Why me?” he asked, quietly.

Vincent looked to the side, the enthusiasm of the initial question trailing off. “I’ve never seen anyone like you?”

So unclean, full of sin and guilt?

“So… pretty?”

Jean shifted on his feet uncomfortably, staring at the painter in front of him with wide eyes.

Vincent was quick to catch his mistake. “In a manly way! Very male-orientated. But beautiful and elegant, too! So, um, beautifully handsome? Does that make sense?”

Not at all. Jean felt his entire mind and body shut down, then come back, then shut down again.

Beautiful? Handsome? Was this some sick joke?

“You didn’t drink that, did you?” Jean asked, shyly pointing to the paint-stained cup in his hands.

Vincent glanced down at it, then backed up. “No, I don’t believe so,” he almost chuckled, “Why would you think that?”

“You don’t seem in your right mind,” he responded. “I’m none of what you have described me as. I would suggest getting your eyes checked in the near future.” Jean turned to make his exit, bottle of Rouge in hand.

Vincent’s lips went ajar, blinking in disbelief. Then, he laughed. Jean froze. It was almost insulting to hear that. “Well, I don’t think so. I don’t know you too well, sure, but you seem nice.”

Those words sent butterflies through him.

Whenever Jean looked in the mirror, all he saw was a husk of a living being. He couldn’t say human anymore. He was ugly, inside and out. He longed for life, for warmth, comfort, yet every time it faced him, he ran away. God put him on this Earth to suffer in an endless cycle, yet he couldn’t break his piety to such a cruel deity.

It was something he’d slowly started to accept– the emptiness was a part of his life. If death came to face him, like a fool, he’d fight it, only to realize that victory meant waking up to another day, only after the fact.

Then, an angel descended upon him. It smiled with bright light, with hair as gold as a halo and beamed at him with kind, blue eyes.

“I guess I’ll just ask again,” the angel asked, “Can I paint you sometime?”

Who was he, a mortal man with sins too heavy to weigh, to deny the messenger of God?

It was the first time he ever ‘modeled�� for someone.

He never stopped by Vincent’s room for the specific purpose of sitting in a chair for hours on end (when they did try, it was so unpleasant that Jean almost fainted), but he visited on occasion.

Instead of modeling, Vincent would simply follow Jean around at random times with a sketchbook in hand, capturing moments of life in a still, pencil-drawn image. At the end of the day, when the stars twinkled in through Vincent’s window, Jean was invited in and the two chatted about the scenes the blonde had drawn.

“That’s not me,” Jean would say each time, “That man is too pure to be me.”

And every time, Vincent would shake his head and chuckle. “You should really start being nicer to yourself.” Vincent would then quietly whisper to himself, “Rich, coming from me of all people, but the advice still stands.”

Jean never tried to respond to his extra comments, until one late evening– “Perhaps we both should.”

Vincent’s expression was unreadable as he silently flipped to the next page.

It was the first time someone tried to cook for him. Keyword: tried.

Everyone in the mansion began to notice that the most polar opposites of the mansion had so suddenly gravitated toward each other. Napoleon was surprised when Vincent first appeared at their sparring matches as a regular guest, but now? Why, now he was surprised not to greet him.

Mozart was the most confused, of course. A soldier and a painter? Really, what would they ever want to do with each other? Jean was such a recluse, too. What did Vincent say to him that made him stray from his hideaway room and weapons shop? Theodorus seemed to share this sentiment, trailing behind his older brother like a guard dog.

Still, it didn’t surprise anyone when Vincent wanted to make something for Jean’s birthday.

It did surprise Sebastian that same morning to find the kitchen in shambles. Vincent stood in the middle of it all, a fire blazing inside the oven. Apparently, he had tried to make a batch of macarons.

It took the help of half the mansion to salvage what they could. When Jean was presented with burnt yet somehow undercooked macarons, he just… stared at them.

“How did you know I liked these?” he asked, trying to ignore the smoke coming from the kitchen area.

Vincent’s smile was drenched in embarrassment. “Ah, well, whenever we go to your shop together, I always see you looking at the macarons in the window displays. So, I just assumed you liked them. Glad you do! I would’ve looked silly if not…”

“Thank you.” Jean practically cut him off before he could say anything else. To show his gratitude, he took one from the pan and tossed it in his mouth. Vincent cringed.

The soldier’s eyes burst open with shock. It was so… mushy and crunchy and… How in God’s name could something like this even be created? It was a crime against pastries everywhere.

“Sorry,” Vincent mumbled, “I’m not really a sweet’s fan, so…”

That was all it took to convince Jean to push through, swallowing the macaron (could you even call it that?) with much strain.

“Don’t be. It’s the thought that matters,” Jean said, taking the tray from Vincent. “I… I’ll cherish this forever.”

Jean was looking down at the floor shyly, but he swore he saw a pink color grow on Vincent’s cheeks.

Later that night, he found a portrait of himself waiting by his door. In his critical eyes, it was too divine to look anything like him, but the distinctive stroke style made Vincent the clear painter. A note was attached to the bottom, reading:

“Happy birthday! Sorry for the macarons this morning. Maybe after you close your shop tomorrow, we can go to a bakery and get some non-burnt ones! We could bring them home for a tea party, if you’d like!

Also, I think I finally had enough sketches of you to make a painting, so here’s the finished thing! I hope you like it. I’d like to make more, if you’re comfortable with that

– Vincent Van Gogh”

Unfortunately, Jean wasn’t the most literate. He enjoyed the fact that with paintings, written words were unnecessary. It was a walk of shame to bring the note to Mozart so he could read it for him.

It didn’t completely miss him, though, despite his usual density. Vincent wanted to paint him more. An invitation for more time spent together.

When the fact hit him, Mozart had to double-take the smile he saw on his friend’s face.

It was the first time he ever kissed someone.

Now, granted, he didn’t remember that until the next morning’s hangover passed.

Jean was known to be insanely lightweight, so why he was given a glass of wine- no one knows. Unfortunately, his drunkenness often made him very… touchy. So when the mansion had a banquet drawn long into the night, Jean was practically laying on top of Vincent (much to Theo’s ire).

So, Vincent offered to bring Jean back to his room. His strength was only one factor in it, but Jean’s touchy-feely state made it a slight struggle to bring him into the room without losing his balance and being blinded by Jean’s clinginess.

Vincent has an arm wrapped around Jean as they make their way into his empty room. “Jeanie!” Vincent yelped, “I’m trying to put you to bed!” Through his struggle, he was laughing. Drunken Jean thought it was the most adorable thing in the world. It also didn’t help that Vincent was feeling a bit tipsy, too. He couldn’t stop himself from giggling at the absurdity of Jean’s actions even when he was worried for him.

When Vincent finally managed to get Jean into his room without tripping over his feet for a fourth time, he was content to call it a night. Unfortunately, Jean did not. He latched onto his arm and wouldn’t let go.

“Wait,” he whispered in a hoarse voice, “Please stay.”

Vincent couldn’t tell if it was the wine getting to him or not, but something made his cheeks grow red.

It was hard to remember the rest. Vincent tried to coax Jean into bed, but he refused, instead wrapping his arms around Vincent and locking him in an embrace.

It was a stupored dance, rocking back and forth as the painter tried to keep the soldier on his feet and not knock the two of them over. Not that he minded, though. The closeness was… oddly welcome.

“C’mon, Theo is going to worry if I don’t go back soon! I promise we’ll see each other tomorrow!” Vincent said, taking steps towards Jean’s bed.

Jean pulled back against him, his head leaning on Vincent’s chest. “But I want you here now.”

How could the pure angel say no to such a shy request? It’d break poor Jeanie’s heart to force him off!

The swaying continued, Jean moving closer and closer, until…

What was it Arthur said? ‘Drunken words were sober thoughts?’ Did that translate to actions, too?

The mens’ lips met, for just a brief second, but long enough for Vincent’s to turn into a living cherry.

They stared at each other for a moment, lust and liquor made Jean’s gaze cloudy, just as it fogged his mind. Vincent was more aware, but maybe he was hazy, too.

Jean went in again, losing all semblance of balance, leaning all his weight onto Vincent as his knees bent and only the tips of his toes remained dragging on the ground.

If he was a sinner, so be it. He couldn’t take it anymore– the strange pulses of his heart whenever Vincent smiled in the sunlight or told him he was beautiful. He was looked down upon by Heaven’s eye, so what was the point in searching for salvation any longer?

The devil named ethanol overtook Jean, but maybe it claimed Vincent’s heart, too. He didn’t even stumble, catching Jean’s weight and slowly easing into the second kiss. And the fourth. And the seventh.

When the eleventh finished, Vincent suddenly gained consciousness again and forced Jean into bed, running off soon after. Jean was too drunk by then and passed out before he could realize what he’d done.

When day broke the next day, Jean was alone in his bed. No memory came to him until 10 A.M.

What in God’s name had he done!? What sweet temptation overcame him? He was never drinking again, surely! His heart beat out of his chest with images and sensations flashed by him. With Vincent? He had stooped so low as to share affections with a man!? An innocent one, at that! He couldn’t believe he had even dared to touch the painting angel, tainting him with fault and impurity. God almighty, damnation was all he would receive. He’d turned his back to God thousands of times, but this had to be it. The Holy Spirit would claim him at any moment, banishing him to the pits of hell. Forgiveness was fully out of reach. Why did he have to be revived? He should’ve suffered on that stake, right where he belonged.

Jean locked himself in his room for weeks, only answering when Mozart came to drop off a bottle of Rouge. The pianist would try to speak, only for the door to be slammed in his face. The few glimpses residents did catch of him weren’t all too uplifting, either: Jean, knelt over his bedside with a rosary, muttering the Hail Mary over and over as if he would face judgment at any second. He only left to go to the weapons shop. Jean would avoid Vincent like the plague, or in his case, a harsh blaze.

Vincent didn’t fare much better. He was more shy and nervous around the mansion, his paintings became more chaotic and surreal. He tried to ignore it, push down every bit of emotion that started to rise in his chest, but… the unfinished paintings spoke for themselves. Lilly fields, the brandish of a sword, a fire burning sweetly in a fool’s chest.

Vincent felt his hands shake when he flipped through his sketchbook, only to find the same thoughts circling him. His chest felt like it would explode. He didn’t think anything of it when they first grew close to each other, but things were different now.

It was the first time anyone ever told him that.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The sword fell from his hands with a loud clatter. Jean was a statue in the middle of the weapons shop while Vincent stood by the door, his hand on the knob.

The store was closed, but Vincent had been gifted a key a while ago. Vincent brightened any room he stepped in with such a radiant light that Jean felt blinded by it. Except… Even with the sunset behind him, illuminating him like an angel, Vincent appeared to him as a normal man.

He was impure, too. He sinned. He felt. Vincent wasn’t a big fan of that last one.

“You’re mistaken, monsieur.” Jean’s words cut like a sword; through the air and through Vincent’s heart. Vincent clutched his chest. “Whatever… this… is, it is not love. Lucifer is tempting us. We must not give in.” Jean picked the blade from the floor and placed it back on the rack, his brows knit. He kept his back turned to Vincent. He couldn’t even stand to look at him anymore. He was trying to resist the call of lust, after all. “There is nothing to love about me. Do not let the devil fool you, Vincent.”

Vincent’s head was filled with new feelings, but he knew this one too well: Hurt. It felt like Jean had just struck him in the heart with no remorse. Jean had always been blunt, a bit cold and dense, but this was cruel! Vincent’s fingers curled in, his fingernails stabbing the palm of his hand.

“Why not?” Vincent demanded. Jean wasn’t used to a harsh tone from the painter. “I-I…” Vincent practically trembled as he tried to force the words out. “Why do you get to decide what I’m feeling?”

Jean swallowed hard. He… He never thought of it like that. God was the only judge, why was he deciding for the painter? He opened his mouth to speak, but Vincent cut him off as he stepped closer.

“I love you, Jean. And, sure, maybe I don’t have the best grasp on feelings yet, but I know I love you.” Vincent’s declaration was made and there was no going back. It was a bit scary, pouring the beatings of his heart in front of Jean, but it had to be done. “You’re not going to convince me I don’t. I’m sorry.”

Jean was… silent. His violet eyes were wide, but there were unreadable emotions going through him. Vincent couldn’t bring himself to gaze at Jean for more than a few seconds. Not yet. He had no idea how the soldier would react. He was always so cynical, so shrouded in mystery, but that only made Vincent want to show him the sun even more.

“Why?” Jean parroted Vincent’s previous question. “What is there to love about me?” His voice cracked. As much as he tried to hide it, tears were being forcibly choked and swallowed to save his pride.

Vincent’s shoulders slowly slumped as the tension melted. Oh, what wasn’t there to admire. “Well… You’re strong.”

No I’m not, his mind argued.

“And you’re very kind. You’re always so thoughtful and thinking of others.”

It can’t be true.

“I can only dream to be as selfless as you, really!”

That was a blatant lie. What kind of game was he pulling? Only then did Jean’s thoughts stray. Vincent would never lie so openly. Was there truth in his words?

“I like spending time with you, too. You’ve always got something fun to say, when you do talk. And I like it when we go places. You keep talking about that field of lilies, so I think we could go there next!”

His mind’s voice couldn’t think up a retort in time.

“And… Well, I said it when we first met, right? You’re beautifully handsome. That’s something to enjoy, too,” Vincent giggled nervously, “Not as much as the other things, though! More of an added bonus.”

Vincent peeled his eyes off the floor to meet with an unseemly sight. Saint Jeanne D’Arc, staring him right in the face, with a hand over his mouth and tears rolling down his cheeks. It was sacrilegious to watch.

“Hey, don’t cry, Jeanie,” Vincent whispered, moving right in front of Jean to wipe his tears with his thumb. His hand lingered on the man’s cheek.

Jean felt as if he couldn’t breathe right away. Love? Nonsense. It wasn’t for him. He wasn’t even supposed to be alive! How could someone so gentle and considerate say all those things about him? This had to be some sort of trick or illusion. A dream, even.

Jean’s fingers intertwined with Vincent’s, not letting the painter’s delicate hands leave his face anytime soon.

He was just waiting to wake up from this dream. Waiting patiently. Waiting… and waiting.

It never came.

When he opened his eyes, Vincent was still there, sky blue eyes lovingly locked on him.

Vincent’s smile was soft. Anything harsher would blind Jean. “We’re vampires, Jean. I think God has bigger things to worry about. Maybe he can let this one slide.”

It was overwhelming to be blanketed in the holy light and Jean’s tears kept falling. This time, with a shy smile on his face.

It happened naturally. The gap between their faces drew shorter and shorter, their bodies fit together perfectly, and Jean’s hands felt comfortable on Vincent’s waist.

It was reserved, at first. Neither had any idea how to navigate a kiss with the other, but it was more natural than Jean had expected. It was… warm. Vincent’s thumb ran his across Jean’s eyepatch. Involuntarily, he drew back. They both used that as a minute to breathe.

Surprisingly, Jean was the one who initiated the second kiss, and this one was much more passionate. Their tongues collided on this one, messily and sloppily. Neither had any clue how to do this, but that was part of the enjoyment. It was slow, sensual, simply taking their time to explore each other.

It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t have to be. Jean and Vincent backed away from each other entirely content, their foreheads pressing against the other. A dopey grin enveloped the soldier’s red face. He was certain the blonde could hear just how loudly his heart pumped in his chest.

It was the first time he felt so happy.

The days at the mansion were almost tolerable now. When no one was around, a chaste peck on the cheek or forehead would be shared. Usually Vincent was the one to find Jean alone in the library, but occasionally Jean walked by his room and left a kiss on his cheek.

Theo and Mozart noticed how they would disappear together first. Soon enough, everyone else caught on. Most of the mansion went to Arthur and Sebastian for answers, but both refused to tell. Sebastian out of not wanting to admit the amount of intel stored in his Oh no– They Didn’t! journal, and Arthur because he thought it’d be more fun for everyone else to figure it out themselves. Being the detective he was, Vincent sighed in relief when he heard he hadn’t told anyone. These feelings, this relationship… It’s all so new and they needed to take it slow. Being outed so soon would only spell disaster, especially in this century. Besides, Jean was already suffering from the judgmental stares from his little brother across the dinner table.

So, for the meantime, tea parties were kept in lonesome meadows and their most intimate moments were behind locked doors.

It was the first time he had a picnic.

They promised to go to the lily field, when they had the chance. Vincent was captivated the moment he saw a sea of white petals blowing in the wind, glowing under the light of the moon. Jean didn’t interrupt his pause, allowing him to absorb the beauty around him.

A blanket placed under them, a stiff breeze moving Vincent’s blonde curls in such a way that Jean couldn’t tear his eyes away. His head rested on the painter’s thigh while he sketched the field in front of them, grinning as his mind’s eye was put to paper.

He looked down at Jean, breathing softly as he admired him. Vincent chuckled as he ran his fingers through his partner’s navy hair. “This is nice,” he whispered, not wanting to interrupt the still of the night.

The moonlight hit Vincent in such a way that he looked as if he descended from heaven, his features chiseled by God himself. “It is,” Jean responded, closing his eyes to properly enjoy the sensation.

“We’re really lovers, aren’t we?” the blonde vampire asked softly. “It’s hard to imagine it in the mansion, but here… It feels real.” A pause hit Vincent before he continued, a romantic sigh leaving his lips as he took the moment in. “We should go see the sunflowers next.”

Jean’s eyes fluttered open and he watched Vincent attentively. There was a distinct longing in his eyes as he stared over the waves of flowers.

He couldn’t help himself. Jean cupped Vincent’s cheek in his head, bending awkwardly to plant a kiss on his lover’s jaw.

It was the first time he said those three words.

“I love you.”

It was the first time he took his eyepatch off in front of someone.

It had taken a full year for Jean to open up to the idea of taking his eyepatch off in front of Vincent. When they said they were taking it slow, they meant slow. Molasses envied them. They both had a lot of issues within themself, so moving too fast would only cause even more problems. This was far more safe and comfortable, and for them, that mattered more than anything.

It was a planned event. Theodorus wouldn’t be home for a few days on a business trip and Mozart was completely overtaken by a burst of creativity. Melodies filled the air each night, perfect for the inexperienced lovers. The stars had aligned for them to finally have a chance to sleep together and maybe sleep in, if they were lucky.

Sitting on opposite ends of Jean’s mattress, Vincent observed the empty room around him with slight dismay. The many paintings gifted to his lover were the only decorations on the walls. Otherwise, the place looked like a jail cell. At least Vincent's cell had a nice window and some paint stains on the floor. This was a topic for another day, though.

Jean sheepishly cleared his throat. A fabric eyepatch sling was laid across his open palm, extending it out for Vincent to take. He feared if he held it any longer that he’d put it right back on.

Vincent was instantly enamored with Jean’s face. He came to know of Jean’s execution, of how he covered himself so thoroughly to hide the scars that coated him from his feet to his face, but finally being able to see some, the dead skin surrounding his blind eye and the burns that brushed his usually glove-covered hands… He was so beautiful.

Jean was self-conscious under his gaze, actively forcing his left hand not to cover his eye. Fortunately, Vincent reached out and traced the burnt lines of his face before Jean could. His breath hitched, a short quivering running down his shoulder. “Sorry,” Vincent mumbled, now caressing the side of his face. “I just… I should paint you like this sometime. If you’ll let me.” Briefly, Vincent’s eyes wandered to his torso, before gazing back at the head of his lover. He held his cheek so tenderly.

Jean’s bashfulness melted under the tender gaze of the older Van Gogh. He took his wrist in his hand and planted delicate kisses against his palm. Vincent giggled coyly. Ah, that sound was more beautiful than any hymns the angels could conjure up. “I’ll think about it, monsieur.” He was thankful the attention to his scars ended there, although slight brushes and kisses against his eye were common as they laid next to each other. Any comments on its state would’ve left Jean a mess of regret and self-hatred. Vincent was careful about that, as Jean was with Vincent’s emotional status. It was an equal trade.

The evening was quiet, lulling the two to sleep easily. At first, they had fallen asleep with their hands locked together, not all too close to each other. Vincent knew just how overwhelming physical affection was for Jean, even after a full year in this relationship. Jean was the one who set the pace when it came to touch. He didn’t mind that.

Apparently, his unconscious state did. Jean awoke in the middle of the night to Vincent’s head tucked against his neck, arms around his waist and his back pressed against the painter’s chest, their fingers still intertwined with each other. His face dug against the pillow under him, hiding the scar from the dark nighttime.

Sometimes, he could feel the eyes of God staring at him, judging him for every sin he’d committed. When that happened, he’d spend several days in the city church, ultimately failing to build up the courage to enter the confessional. He was sin incarnate, no Father could offer repentance for that.

The urge to run overcame him. To be so close to another living being was too much… but the scent of paint and sunflowers granted miracles to Jean. His muscles slowly unwound and he found himself falling into the arms of rest once again. The strong arms around him kept him tied to reality and away from the dark thoughts of his wandering mind.

Every time Jean fell asleep, he dreaded the coming morning. The cycle of a torturous, unwanted, wrongful existence continued.

But with Vincent here… Things were different. A small flicker grew in his heart. If he could make it to tomorrow, he’d get to see Vincent smile. Oh, and perhaps he’d get to spare with Napoleon, and then play with Cherie… then he could… And then...

Suddenly everything felt worth fighting for, if only for a day.

He had taken his eyepatch off, and the world still turned.

#ikevamp vincent #ikevamp jean #ikemen vampire #ikemen series #ikevamp #ikevamp jeanne #suitor x suitor ikevamp #vincent x jean ikevamp #ikevamp fanfic #jean x vincent ikevamp #vincent x jean #jean x vincent

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vemaro · 11 months ago

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alone again

[PART 2]

A link to PART 1 and PART 3

Pairing: Astarion x Tav (female Tav)

Word count: ~2100

Notes: Two down, one to go! Once I finish the third bit, I have way more ideas I hope to write. I hope no one minds that these aren’t super cohesive. Everything will be set in the AU, but it won’t necessarily be in order. As usual, thanks for reading! Any feedback is appreciated!

…

As soon as the ceremony is over, Terrick informs his wife of some business that needs attending to in the Upper City (a party). He gives her a kiss on the cheek (they are in public) and leaves without so much as an invitation (not that she wants to go). Unfortunately, he takes the carriage they arrived in, which means she’ll have to walk all the way home. In the tight dress. In the uncomfortable shoes. With an irate little boy. Perfect.

A pull on the skirts of Tav’s dress brings her attention downward. “Mama, I saw a bunch of our friends. Over there. See?” He points to the back of the crowd. And there they are, gathered at the lip of an alleyway. Callum waves at them and they wave back.

She plays with his hair, purposely messing it up. “I saw them, Callum.”

He yanks on her arm, trying to pull her offstage. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

His eagerness is infectious. “We’re going, we’re going,” she laughs. Tav makes sure to signal them to stay put where they are, she and Callum will come to them.

Most of the people have dispersed by now, either having gone inside to use the food bank or left after the speeches. It’s not difficult for the little boy to navigate through what’s left. Tav can’t deny her own eagerness to reunite with everyone. She’s missed them all dearly. It’s been years since so many of them have been in the city concurrently, not since the final fight against the Elder Brain. Lae’zel immediately ran into a battle to save her people from Vlaakith. Wyll and Karlach went to Avernus. Gale stayed behind for a little while, but eventually left for a position at Blackstaff Academy. Astarion is no longer safe from the sun so he went into the Underdark. Shadowheart stayed the longest, but she too ventured out of the city, following Aylin and Isobel.

Tav considered asking to tag along with someone, but she felt it wasn’t her place to insert herself into their lives. If they wanted her around, surely they would’ve invited her … right? So she stayed, in wait for when any of her friends would pass through the Gate again. She grew very lonely, then again, she should be used to solitude. That was her life before the Nautiloid, why would things change after?

Karlach breaks away from the party and meet them in the middle. “Oh look, if it isn’t our fearless leader and the brave little soldier!” She snatches up Callum, who squeals with joy. “Don’t you two look ready for an adventure out in the woods.”

Tav rolls her eyes. “Shut it.” She didn’t pick this ridiculous frock.

Gale, the gentleman he is, steps up to defend her honor. “Well, I think you look positively radiant, Tav.” He takes one of her hands and presses a chaste kiss to her knuckles.

Tav does a small curtsy in return. “Thank you, Mr. Dekarios.”

“The color doesn’t suit you,” Lae’zel says. That’s it. No proper greeting.

Shadowheart points a sour look at the gith warrior. “Tactful as always, I see.”

Wyll joins the conversation. “Lae’zel, does the phrase if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all ring any bells?”

“No,” she says, slightly defensive. “And I fail to see why you mention it. The color of her dress isn’t visually appealing and by informing her, she won’t make this mistake again in the future. If anything, I’m being very nice.”

“To be fair,” Tav says, in Lae’zel’s defense. “I have half a mind to take a dagger and cut myself out of the bodice. It’s suffocating.”

“A dagger? Darling, you know I always carry one or two on me.” Astarion steps out of the alleyway carrying an enchanted umbrella in one hand and a dagger in the other. And not just any dagger, but the Sussur dagger she forged specifically for him early on in their travels. Back when they fooled around like a couple of innocent teenagers and she thought she had a chance. Back before she knew what he’d been through and gave up that chance. “Allow me the honors?”

Tav has to make a show of pretending to be flustered, while actually being flustered. “As tempting as your offer may be—” And gods, is it tempting. “—I’ll have to pass.”

Oddly enough, instead of dropping the smirk, it ticks up a little higher. He tucks his weapon away. “Boo. No fun.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Astarion,” she comments dryly.

He does a sort of half bow. “And it’s always a pleasure to see you, dear.”

“Asty!”

Karlach must’ve put him down at some point and now her son is charging at Astarion. Tav’s heart seizes in panic. “Wait, Callum, be careful!” The enchantment only works within the perimeter of the umbrella. If Callum accidentally knocks the vampire over, not only would it hurt him, it would also cause a huge scene.

Thankfully, Gale plucks the child up before any harm can be done. “Hello, Callum. Don’t you look dashing?”

The little boy frowns and tugs on his collar. “I don’t like these clothes. I can’t play in them.”

The wizard frowns in sympathy. “I can’t play in my clothes either.”

Feeling shy, Callum looks away. “But … can you still do magic?”

“Hmm. Let’s see, shall we?” With a flick of the wrist and a couple hand gestures, Gale conjures up a small glowing prism. “It appears so,” he says with a smug grin.

Callum cautiously reaches to touch it, but when the prism abruptly changes shape, he flinches back in surprise. Now it’s in the form of a sphere. The boy claps with excitement. “I love magic!”

“Me too.”

Astarion clears his throat. “Yoohoo! Hello! I'm the one you were going for. Not Professor Chatty.”

Gale tuts at the vampire. “If I hadn’t stepped in, you would’ve turned to ash”

“Gods below,” Astarion mutters. “I can handle a toddler bumping into me.”

Shadowheart arches a challenging brow. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“I have my doubts,” Lae’zel interjects. No one can tell if she’s being serious or only teasing. Either way, it has everyone else (but Astarion) laughing.

Callum sees that he’s upset and holds out his arms. He makes grabby hands. “Don’t be sad, Asty. I love you.”

Those three little words still do a number on the man’s unbeating heart. Gale holds out the boy enough that Astarion can safely grab hold of him. Once he’s situated on his hip, he takes a deep breath. “I love you too, as long as I’m still your favorite.”

The Blade of Frontiers detects a lie. “I wasn’t there, but I heard you weren’t his favorite.” Astarion glares at him. Wyll holds up his hands in surrender. “Unless I heard wrong.”

Karlach snorts. “You didn’t.”

Shadowheart rolls her eyes. “You’re not the favorite either.”

And the tiefling drops her head in shame. “Ah, don’t remind me.”

Gale perks up at the news. “Wait, am I—”

“No.”

And he too drops his head. “Oh …”

Lae’zel shakes her head. “Chk. Of course his mother is his favorite. Only a fool would believe otherwise.”

Astarion glares at the fighter. “Tav shouldn’t count. Everyone loves her. She’s always the favorite.”

She’s certainly not Terrick’s favorite and that is a fact. Tav gasps, feigning defensiveness. “Excuse me? I don’t count?”

If he could, he’d pinch the ridge of his nose, but alas his arms are full of children and umbrellas. So he just closes his eyes, too frustrated to look at her. “That’s the part you clung to?”

Now she’s preening. “Don’t worry, I also heard you say I’m your favorite.”

Fuck. Is he blushing? He fed on a deer last night. Would the shade from the umbrella obscure the change in tint? “I said you were the favorite, dear. Not my favorite. Do get your hearing checked.”

Tav cocks her head to the side like a curious owlbear cub. “So I’m not your favorite?”

“As of right now, no.”

She lays her head on his shoulder, feeling bold today. “You love me.” Not in the same way that she loves him (or so she thinks), but she’ll take what she can get.

Definitely not blushing. Definitely not blushing. “I tolerate you and your obnoxious goody-two-shoes personality.”

The druid is feeling very bold, perhaps a tiny bit masochistic. “Awe, I love you, too, Astarion.” And she pecks him on the cheek. The regret floods her mind and body as soon as she pulls away. Shit. But it’s fine! Friends can show other friends physical affection. Gale kissed her hand not five minutes ago. She plants one on her son next. “A-and I love you, Callum.”

“I love you, Mama!” Callum places a small kiss on Astarion’s other cheek. “I love you too, Asty!” He then proceeds to tell everyone in the vicinity that he loves them, therefore saving Tav from having to kiss each and every one of her friends in order to cover her own ass. Crisis averted. Gods, that boy is a blessing.

So is Gale. “So, Tav, do you have to stay here at the food bank or are you free for the day?”

Her heart flutters in anticipation. Is he going to suggest they all do something together? Robyn hopes so. “I’m done,” she says quickly. “Nothing left to do here. I have no plans.”

“Splendid! Since this is the first time in a long time we’ve all been in the city, I say we should spend the day together.” He looks around their circle of friends. “Any objections?”

Karlach shakes her head. “Nope.”

“None at all,” Wyll agrees.

It’s happening! She could weep from joy. “That’s a great idea, Gale,” Tav exclaims. “I love it.” She can barely contain her excitement. She has fistfuls of her dress in her hands—oh wait. “Uh, I do need to head home first.”

“No,” Callum whines, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes. “I don’t want to go! I want to stay!”

Gods, so does she. Tav stands with her hand on her knees. “Don’t you want out of these stuffy clothes?” He nods. “Then we need to go home to do that, okay?” She holds out her arms to take him from Astarion.

The boy doesn’t move. “Then we can come back?”

Tav taps the tip of his nose, drawing out a small giggle. “Then we can come back. Promise.” Satisfied with his mother’s answer, he climbs into her arms. “Give me two hours, tops. Wait for us in the Elfsong.”

“Why so long?” Shadowheart asks.

Tav deadpans at the question. “My wonderful husband took the carriage, which means I get to walk back to the Upper City.” She worries her lip between her teeth. “Unless someone has to leave soon, in which case, I will stay.” She’ll suffer through discomfort if it means spending time with everyone.

The cleric is quick to reassure her. “No no, that’s fine. No one has to leave yet.”

“Oh. Good. Thank you.” She adjusts her grip on her son and starts to walk away. “I’ll try not to take too long then.”

Karlach goes over and nudges the vampire forward. “Fangs, go with her. A proper lady like her needs an escort.”

Tav almost trips on a dip in the road when she spins around to face them. “O-oh, no, it’s fine. He doesn’t have to—you don’t have to if you don’t want to, Astarion. You can wait with the others in the tavern.”

Callum bounces in Tav’s arms. “Asty’s coming?”

“No, he’s going to wait—”

He holds out his arm. “I want him to come.”

Astarion turns and gives the barbarian a face that reads I’m going to fucking kill you. Karlach just gives him a shit-eating grin. When he turns back to the mother and son, he’s all smiles. “It seems the decision has been made for us, hm?” He ambles over then extends the arm not holding the umbrella. “Shall we?”

Tav hesitates. In that moment of hesitation, she comes up with several reasons she should continue to insist he stay. It takes another moment for her to convince herself to ignore herself. Tav ultimately switches Callum to her other hip then grabs his arm. “If you’re sure. Will the enchantment last?”

Gale scoffs. “Of course it will last. I cast the spell myself.” He shoos them along. “Off, you three. While the day is still young.”

A bundle of nerves settles itself in her gut. She trusts Astarion. She trusts him with her life. More importantly, she trusts him with Callum’s life. The one she doesn’t trust right now is herself. “Okay …” Tav looks up at the vampire and tries for her best imitation of a genuine smile. “Let’s go then.”

He smirks back. “Lead on.”

#bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #tavstarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #vemaro

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sev-on-kamino · 2 years ago

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30 Days of Blossoming Romance (8)

Day 8: Discovering common interests (prompt list here)

Echo x afab!Reader

warnings: MINORS DNI, it’s sfw, but y’all aren’t supposed to be here. it’s like a sour patch kid, first it’s angsty, and then at the end there’s fluff. I went a different way with this one, and it’s more of a re-blossoming. body anxiety, mutual relationship anxiety, mention of jealousy, pls lemme know if I missed anything

word count: 988

Getting anything that looked like privacy on the Havoc Marauder was damn near impossible. You hadn’t realized how much you’d miss your tiny quarters on the Resolute until you’d woken up with your face stuck to a console in the cockpit. The inconvenience was totally worth it though. You had Echo back, and the galaxy felt less cruel for it.

He was different than you remembered, but in many ways that was a good thing. You could look at him, and just see him. Not Fives. Unfortunately, you looked almost exactly the same minus your armor, and several new tattoos. Sometimes Echo would look at you with such sadness in his eyes you could feel your heart breaking.

This was why you’d been desperate for privacy. You needed a few minutes alone to wrap your head around the choice you’d made impulsively, when the thought of saying good bye hurt too much to consider. Apparently your anxiety was affecting you severely enough for Hunter to notice. He’d offered you his bunk, so you could stretch out and relax while he was on watch.

You’d eagerly taken him up on the offer, climbing in with your holopad, and your journal. It was old fashioned, but you liked the feeling of a stylus in your hand. You pulled up the picture you’d taken on your most recent mission, and started sketching it out in your journal. The knot in your stomach began to unravel, as you remembered the way Wrecker had tossed Crosshair up on the ridge, much to the sniper’s irritation.

The tension in your shoulders eased, as you recalled Echo holding your hand for the first time since your reunion. Fingers laced securely with yours, the quiet confidence he’d always had shining through in that perfect moment.

You drifted off before you could finish the description of the planet and your favorite features. It was the first restful, dreamless sleep you’d had in awhile.

Echo had been tossing and turning every night since he’d come out of that blasted stasis chamber. He was running on a few hours of sleep, which was consumed by nightmares, or a fear of hurting or scaring you, as you slept next to him. You were a constant source of confusion for the ARC trooper.

On one hand, your willingness to give up your life and go with him gave him hope that you could pick up where you’d left off before the Citadel. On the other, he wasn’t that trooper anymore. You were still radiant, kind, beautiful, whole. He felt like a shell of his former self at best.

It didn’t help that the others had taken to you so quickly. A whole batch of super soldiers, who could be what you deserved. He didn’t feel like he stood a chance. It had become a pain point that you chose to be by his side when he was certain you’d rather be elsewhere. Echo despised feeling like you felt obligated or that you pitied him.

Still, it surprised him when he woke up alone. It wasn’t your turn on watch yet, and you’d never been willing to give up sleep. He slid out of the bunk, and went to the cockpit, wondering if perhaps you couldn’t sleep either. He only found Hunter, who mentioned you were passed out in his bunk.

Returning to the racks, Echo tugged the privacy curtain out of the way to check on you. You looked like a dream when you were asleep. Your features soft, unmarred by the worries of the waking world. He moved to cover you with the blanket only to notice your hand clutching a stylus, and a journal splayed out across your stomach.

He lifted it carefully, not wanting to invade your privacy when your sketches caught his eye. A smile brightened his features instantly. He used to keep a journal just like this one when he’d joined the 501st. A map of where life had taken him. He looked at the latest entry, and felt a lump in his throat.

• Wrecker tossed Crosshair like 4 meters to “help” him get to a lookout point “faster”

• Hunter kept me from walking straight off a cliff. Thanks, Sarge

• Crosshair nearly gave me a coronary taking out a creature that was about to bite me. Maker bless his eyes and his trigger finger

• Echo held my hand for the first time in so long, and I didn’t want to ever let go. Maybe I made the right call

• Pretty sure Tech found a new plant species. Show off! Looked like this:

You stirred in your sleep, breaking the ARC trooper’s concentration. He tugged the stylus out of your hand, and secured it to the journal, placing them on the far side of your body, so you wouldn’t knock them to the floor in your sleep.

Echo took a deep breath, biting his lip nervously before leaning close to press a kiss to your cheek.

He swore under his breath, as your eyes opened slowly.

“Sorry, I woke you,” he began softly, rubbing the back of his head. You smiled sleepily at him.

“No, it’s ok, I just wanted to scribble in my journal for a bit without disturbing you.”

“I didn’t know you kept one,” he ventured, not wanting to let on that he’d snuck a peek. Despite the sweet things he’d read, he still felt guilty. “I used to before…all this.”

“Really?” you asked, your smile lighting up the dim corridor.

He nodded.

“It’s nice, yeah? Things are a blur sometimes, most of the time really. It helps me keep track of where I’ve been,” you hesitated a moment before picking up the little volume tucked behind you. “Wanna see a couple things?”

“I’d love to.” He sat next to you, close like he used to, an arm wrapped around your waist to keep you exactly where you belonged.

#tbb echo #tbb echo x reader #tbb echo x you #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #reader insert #April showers bring May drabbles #it’s angst your honor #angst out of love though #blue writes #seven writes #arc trooper echo #arc trooper echo x reader

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marcmarcmomarc · 3 months ago

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Super Smash Bros. Fighter Presentation

MASTER HAND: The third game in the series is “Super Smash Bros. Brawl” for Nintendo Wii! For the game’s newcomers, we have one of Kirby’s rivals, an honorable swordsman who travels around the world challenging strong opponents to duels. He is “The Masked Swordsman”, number 27, Meta Knight!

Theme: Victory! Meta Knight by Comic Mystic

(Meta Knight steps to center stage, slashes Galaxia twice, and then points it in front of himself.)

META KNIGHT: Fight me, if you dare.

CRAZY HAND: First appearance, “Kirby’s Adventure” for the Nintendo Entertainment System.

MASTER HAND: Next, the flightless angel that serves as “The Captain of the Goddess of Light’s Guard”, having taken down entire armies, as well as several gods, a crew of space pirates, an alien race, and the embodiment of chaos itself. Meet number 28, Pit!

Theme: Victory! Pit - Super Smash Bros. Ultimate

(Pit flies to center stage, separates the Palutena Bow, then flourishes its blades before striking a pose.)

PIT: It’s game over for you!

CRAZY HAND: First appearance, “Kid Icarus” for the Nintendo Entertainment System.

MASTER HAND: The next fighter is the galaxy’s most feared bounty hunter. Oh, you’ve already been introduced to this one. Well, what if she didn’t have her Power Suit? You get “The Warrior Within”, number 29, Zero Suit Samus!

Theme: Victory! Zero Suit Samus (Unique Version) by LUCKYRICK

(Samus steps to center stage, then swings the Plasma Whip in a circular motion.)

SAMUS: Try me.

CRAZY HAND: First appearance, “Metroid: Zero Mission” for the Nintendo Game Boy Advance.

MASTER HAND: Next, we find ourselves face-to-face with the slobbish and greedy polar opposite childhood rival of Mario, “The Scoundrel with a Fart of Gold”, number 30, Wario!

Theme: Victory! Wario - Super Smash Bros. Brawl

(Wario crazily rides out on his motorcycle and does donuts at center stage.)

WARIO: (laughing like a madman) l’m-a Wario! I’m-a gonna win!

CRAZY HAND: First appearance, “Super Mario Land 2: 6 Golden Coins” for the Nintendo Game Boy.

(He holds up three fingers forming a “W”, first with his left hand, then his right, then both hands simultaneously.)

WARIO: Wah, wah, wah!

CRAZY HAND: His biker outfit made its debut in “WarioWare, Inc.: Mega Microgame$” for the Nintendo Game Boy Advance.

MASTER HAND: Now for an intensely hype fighter. One of the original stealth game heroes, a mercenary formerly affiliated with the high-tech special operations group FOXHOUND, and a clone of the once-renowned super-soldier Big Boss. You all know and loved when he returned to Smash after ten years, “The Legendary Mercenary”, number 31, David aka Solid Snake!

Theme: Victory! Snake - Super Smash Bros. Ultimate

(At center stage, Snake’s stealth camouflage disengages to reveal himself.)

SNAKE: Kept you waiting, huh?

CRAZY HAND: First appearance, “Metal Gear” for the MSX2.

MASTER HAND: Next, the leader of the Greil Mercenaries, whom he’s led through several trials and ended the Mad King's War since his father’s death. He is “The Radiant Hero of Legend”, number 32, Ike!

Theme: Victory! Ike by GB6

(Ike steps to center stage and hoists Ragnell over his shoulder.)

IKE: I fight for my friends.

CRAZY HAND: First appearance, “Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance” for the Nintendo GameCube.

MASTER HAND: Next, this fighter hails from the Kanto region, “The One Who Aims For Champion”, Pokémon Trainer Red!

Theme: Victory! Pokémon Trainer by GB6

(Red steps to center stage and triumphantly raises his Poké Ball up.)

RED: Gotta catch ‘em all!

CRAZY HAND: First appearance, “Pokémon Red and Blue” for the Nintendo Game Boy.

MASTER HAND: The fighter numbers go to his three Pokémon, all of whom also debuted in this game, the Tiny Turtle Pokémon, number 33, Squirtle…

(Squirtle steps to center stage and raises its arms.)

SQUIRTLE: Squirtle!

MASTER HAND: ...the Seed Pokémon, number 34, Ivysaur...

(Ivysaur steps to center stage and shakes from side to side.)

IVYSAUR: Saur!

MASTER HAND: ...and the Flame Pokémon, number 35, Charizard!

(Charizard steps to center stage and stands upright and puffs its chest out.)

MASTER HAND: Next up, DK’s little buddy, and at one point co-savior. “The Acrobat”, number 36, Diddy Kong!

Theme: Victory! Diddy Kong by GB6

(Diddy steps to center stage and claps his hands above his head, switching feet.)

DIDDY: Hee-hee!

CRAZY HAND: First appearance, “Donkey Kong Country” for the Super Nintendo Entertainment System.

MASTER HAND: Next, the youngest of a set of twins, a kind but timid boy from the Nowhere Islands. After his mother died and his brother went missing, he took it upon himself to stop the evil Pigmask Army, pull the seven needles, and befriend the Dark Dragon. Please give a warm welcome to “The Boy From Nowhere”, number 37, Lucas!

Theme: Victory! Lucas by Groovy Monkey Music

(Lucas steps to center stage and positions his hand to his forehead and grunts, generating bursts of PSI energy from his fingers, then swings his hand down to emit a trail of the energy.)

CRAZY HAND: First appearance, the game not localized in North America- I mean, “Mother 3” for the Nintendo Game Boy Advance.

MASTER HAND: Next, Sega’s mascot, and Mario’s former metafictional rival hailing from South Island, “The Blue Blur”, number 38, Sonic the Hedgehog!

Theme: Victory! Sonic by DIMON • CAMI

(Sonic skids to a hard stop at center stage, then does the Super Peel Out.)

SONIC: Sonic’s the name, speed’s my game!

CRAZY HAND: While his first appearance was a stylized head in “Rad Mobile” for Arcade, the character himself would debut in “Sonic the Hedgehog” for Sega Genesis!

MASTER HAND: Next is the self-proclaimed king of Dream Land, a greedy and gluttonous penguin, but has helped Kirby save Dream Land many times against many powerful foes. He is “The Self-Made King”, number 39, King Dedede!

Theme: Victory! King Dedede by GB6

(King Dedede steps to center stage and hoists his hammer in celebration.)

KING DEDEDE: Heh-heh.

CRAZY HAND: First appearance, “Kirby’s Dream Land” for the Nintendo Game Boy.

MASTER HAND: The space-traveler who was first stranded on a Distant Planet where he had to gather the pieces of his ship with help from the planet's inhabitants is “The Veteran Astronaut”, number 40, Captain Olimar!

Theme: Victory! Olimar - Super Smash Bros. Ultimate

(Olimar steps to center stage and bows at the audience.)

OLIMAR: (in his language) Greetings.

CRAZY HAND: First appearance, “Pikmin” for the Nintendo GameCube.

MASTER HAND: Olimar didn’t come alone. By his side are the inhabitants of the planet he landed on, the Pikmin! Red, blue, yellow, purple, and white.

CRAZY HAND: All debuting from “Pikmin” and “Pikmin 2” for the Nintendo GameCube.

MASTER HAND: Next is the Aura Pokémon and one of the more iconic members of the fourth generation. “The Hero of Aura”, number 41, Lucario!

Theme: Victory! Lucario by GB6

(Lucario steps to center stage, then moves its paws in front of itself, then clasps them together.)

LUCARIO: The Aura is with me.

CRAZY HAND: First appearance, “Pokémon Diamond and Pearl” for the Nintendo DS.

MASTER HAND: Next is the metafictional savior of the Nintendo Entertainment System, and possibly video games in general, helped the Nintendo Entertainment System get off the ground during the tail end of The Great Video Game Crash of 1983. He is “The Last of his Kind”, number 42, R.O.B.!

Theme: Victory! R.O.B. - Super Smash Bros. Ultimate

(R.O.B. rolls to center stage and moves his head around, flashing bright lights from his eyes while clapping.)

CRAZY HAND: While he initially debuted as a toy as his full name, the Robotic Operating Buddy, in 1985, his first in-game appearance is “Stack-Up” for the Nintendo Entertainment System.

MASTER HAND: Next is the Hero of Hyrule taking a cartoony look and hailing from Outset Island, a small location on the Great Sea, and set out on a quest to rescue his sister Aryll from the clutches of the Helmaroc King. Welcome “The Wind-Waking Warrior”, number 43, Toon Link!

Theme: Victory! Toon Link by GB6

(Toon Link steps to center stage and conducts the Wind God’s Aura.)

CRAZY HAND: While the “Toon” design for Link technically appeared first in “The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords”, the character here unambiguously represents the character debuting in “The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker” for the Nintendo GameCube.

MASTER HAND: Next, Fox’s rival and the leader of the bounty hunter force known as Star Wolf, “The Silver Space Wolf”, number 44, Wolf O’Donnell!

Theme: Victory! Wolf by GB6

(Wolf steps to center stage and scowls.)

WOLF: You’re good, but I’m better.

CRAZY HAND: First appearance, “Star Fox 64” for the Nintendo 64.