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winterarmyy · 2 months

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Against All Odds | Part I

An arranged marriage with the duke's illegitimate son!bucky.

Summary: In a medieval kingdom where magic and political intrigue are woven into the fabric of society, Y/N, the youngest daughter of a noble Earl family, finds herself in an arranged marriage to James Buchanan Barnes, the illegitimate son of the Duke. Known as the Winter Soldier, Bucky's reputation as a monster in war had instilled anxiety into Y/N's heart. But that fear quickly begins to crumble when she discovers that her husband is not the brutal figure society depicts him to be.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 8.1k++

Pairing: duke's illegitimate son!bucky x noble!female!reader

Warnings: fantasy/medieval au, i did not write this with much knowledge of fantasy nor medieval lore. I write it solely for plot and the couple dynamic lmao. if you're expecting full blown fantasy novel; this ain't it, man. anyways, 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, loss of virginity, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint), marking kink (i think), soft fluffy smut, a wee bit of dirty talk. soft!reader and even softer!bucky. (idk what else, so tell me if there's something i miss.)

P/S: This is the fic for an idea I had earlier this year. The first chapter will only cover the original post but what happens next is something you will need to look forward on the upcoming chapters. Enjoy your read!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N stood in front of the grand mirror in her chamber, her reflection staring back at her with wide, fearful eyes. The delicate lace of her wedding dress was the opposite of the twisting anxiety in her stomach. Today, she was to marry James Buchanan Barnes, the illegitimate son of the Duke of the kingdom, a man labelled to be more beast than human.

He was known as the Winter Soldier, a title whispered with both fear and awe. Tales of his gruesome feats in battle, his merciless brutality, and his cold, metal arm was deemed as a horror story for the children in the kingdom. People spoke of him as a monstrous weapon, a beast moulded by the Emperor to do his bidding without question or hesitation.

Y/N had heard the stories many times before; and it has always been a hushed conversation that floats around whether a ballroom of a gala, or at the tables of the garden parties, sometimes even in between the racks of books in the library.

They always painted a picture of a man who lived only for war, devoid of humanity.

She couldn't help but let these tales feed her imagination. What kind of man was he truly? Did he revel in the violence, or was he a prisoner to his fate? Y/N shuddered at the thought, her heart heavy with fear and uncertainty.

Her father, the Earl, had made it clear why she needed to marry him. It was a political manoeuvre, a strategic alliance to strengthen their family's position. The duke, Bucky's father, wielded considerable power, and their union would bring the Earl closer to the heart of the kingdom's influence.

And when he heard that the duke was looking for a wife for his bastard son, he knew that she would be perfect. That was when Y/N, the youngest daughter, became the pawn in this game. Her father's ambitions certainly outweighed any consideration for her feelings or desires.

Y/N had always longed for a marriage of love, a dream she clung to despite her circumstances. She was a hopeless romantic through and through; much like her late mother. She remembered the nights when her mother would read to her and her siblings, spinning tales of prince charming and valiant heroes.

The fire crackled warmly in the hearth as her mother’s soothing voice filled the room. Y/N and her siblings, her older brother Eric and sister Clara, lay tucked under blankets, their eyes wide with wonder.

"And then the prince, with a heart full of love, swept the princess into his arms, vowing to protect her forever," her mother read, her voice a melodic whisper.

Y/N, her eyes sparkling with innocence, declared, "When I grow up, I want to marry a prince charming too!"

Clara, ever the practical one, nodded in agreement. "Me too! He has to be brave and kind."

Eric, being a little boy, scrunched his nose in distaste. "I don’t want to get married. I want to be a knight!"

Their mother chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Y/N’s forehead. "It does not matter if he is a prince charming or a humble knight. As long as you marry the one you love, that is what truly matters."

Y/N's heart ached at the memory. How she wished her mother were still here to guide her through this terrifying day. The gentle knock on the door brought her back to the present.

"Lady Y/N, it’s time," one of the maids said softly.

Y/N took a long and deep breath, smoothing down the fabric of her dress. She followed the maid down the corridor, her mind a swirl of emotions. Reaching the grand doors of the church, her father waited for her.

"Remember, Y/N," he said, his voice stern. "Do not mess this up. Just endure it. And you'll be fine. This is the most useful you can be to our family."

Her heart sank further; yet she nodded obediently.

Compared to Y/N, her elder brother, a celebrated swordsman, and her sister, a master in the art of business, had always outshone her in their father's eyes. Y/N's talent with languages; ancient and modern – was seen as a useless skill, something that brought no tangible benefit to the family.

Her father had never been cruel when she was younger but everything changed when her mother died. In fact, everyone in the family had lost a piece of their soul when she left. Now, his lack of affection only increases the number of scars on her heart.

The doors opened, revealing the crowds of high-ranking nobles; who were mostly strangers – staring at her. Some were judging her; some pitied her. She reminded herself that she was doing this for her family, for the greater good. But the little girl inside her who dreamed of prince charming certainly felt a pang of sorrow.

As she walked down the aisle, her legs trembled, and her hands shook so violently that she had to clasp them together to steady herself. From afar, she saw the silhouette of the man she was destined to marry. His tall and huge figure stood out compared to anyone in the hall. As she got closer, she kept her gaze fixed on the floor, too afraid to look up at her husband-to-be.

When she finally reached the altar, the priest began the ceremony. His speech was long and dragging, giving Y/N too much time to entertain her growing curiosity that she dared to glance up at the man next to her. Even from behind the veil, she could see his towering and broad-shouldered build, his presence commanding the room. His long hair was slightly untamed, and a scruffy beard framed his face. His metal hand, glinting in the sun that leaked through the church’s windows, was a jarring reminder of the rumors that surrounded him.

There were no heartfelt vows to recite to each other; only their promise of "I do" was exchanged. And that was the first time Y/N heard his voice. It was deep and resonant, sending a shiver down her spine; but there was a certain warmth in it that contrasted sharply with his fearsome reputation.

When the priest announced their union and Bucky lifted her veil, Y/N was struck by the unexpected gentleness in his eyes. They were a brilliant, mesmerizing blue, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. Bucky's eyes softened as he looked at her, his gaze tender and almost reverent. Slowly, he placed one hand gently around her waist, pulling her slightly closer. His other hand came up to cup her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle against her skin.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as he leaned in, her breath catching in her throat. When his lips met hers, they were soft, warm, and so unexpected. She could smell his cologne; an earthy, woodsy scent mixed with a hint of something fruity; like peaches or tangerines. It made her head spin and her heart jumped all at the same time.

The kiss was gentle and unhurried, very much differs to the forceful gesture she had feared. As he pulled away, Y/N found herself blinking slowly, her cheeks flushed and her fear momentarily replaced by confusion and a surprising awe. She was caught off guard by the tenderness of his touch, the way his lips had brushed against hers so gently.

Could the rumors about him be wrong?

"I’m sorry if I startled you," he said, his voice low and gentle. "I hope I didn’t scare you, my dear."

Y/N blinked slowly, trying to process the sudden shift in her emotions. The fear that had gripped her so tightly seemed to dissipate, replaced by a confusing mix of relief and intrigue. Her hands, which had been trembling, now rested at her sides, feeling strangely steady. Her eyes met his, and she could see softness in his gaze that contradicted the harsh rumors she had heard.

“I—no, you didn’t scare me,” she managed to say; her voice barely more than a whisper. She took a deep breath, her cheeks getting warmer as she processed the endearment he just called her. On the other hand, her mind was racing as she tried to reconcile the man in front of her with the fearsome figure of the Winter Soldier.

Bucky’s eyes mellowed even further, his gaze glazed with a tenderness that seemed to pierce through the weight of the room. A warm smile spread across his face, and he held her gaze with a comforting assurance.

“Good,” he said, his voice carrying a gentle affection. “I’m glad to hear that.”

The reception that followed was a blur of faces and polite conversation. Y/N moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and well-wishes, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Bucky than the rumors suggested. Every time she caught his eye, he gave her a small, reassuring smile that made the butterflies inside of her go wild.

As the evening drew to a close, they were escorted to one of the Emperor’s palaces, a grand and opulent residence that was to serve as their temporary home before they traveled north to Bucky’s territory. The palace, with its lavish furnishings and golden accents, seemed to mock the uncertainty Y/N felt. She had been assigned a chamber to prepare for the night, and the palace maids were bustling around her, helping her into a set of elaborate, far-from-modest lingerie.

The palace’s maids’ whispers and side glances did nothing to ease her growing anxiety. Their condescending tones and occasional snickers were laced with cruel speculation about how roughly Bucky would treat her. The more Y/N overheard, the more her apprehension grew. Despite the gentleness Bucky had shown her earlier, she found herself doubting its sincerity.

Could he really be the caring husband he appeared to be, or was it all just an elaborate show?

The maids finally left, their laughter fading down the hallway, leaving Y/N alone in the grand chamber. Her heart raced, and cold sweat formed at her brow as she sat quietly on the edge of the ornate bed. She kept her gaze firmly on the floor, her hands fidgeting in her lap. The room felt enormous, its sheer size heightening her sense of isolation and dread.

The door creaked open, and Bucky entered the room. Y/N’s heart nearly stopped as she heard the heavy, measured footsteps approaching. She couldn’t bring herself to look up, her body tense and her mind a swirl of panic and unease. She almost held her breath entire when she felt the slight indentation of the mattress beside her.

“Y/N,” Bucky’s voice was soft and coaxing, a distinct difference to the coldness she was expecting. “Look at me.” He continued. She hesitated momentarily; torn between obeying and disobeying but ultimately decided to raise her eyes to meet his.

The sight of him; his upper body bare, revealing a tapestry of scars and the stark metal of his prosthetic arm; made her breath hitch. Her eyes traced the lines of his faded wound, particularly the jagged marks where his shoulder met his metal arm. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow and concern. Her fingers, almost of their own accord, reached out to trace the contours of his chest and shoulder.

Bucky let the innocence of her touch to trace the most tainted parts of him; however noting her trembling eyes, he misunderstood her apprehension. “I want you to know, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle, “that I will never hurt you. You are safe with me.”

Y/N shook her head, her heart aching. She felt an unexplainable pain growing in her chest as she gazed at him. Her fingers still lightly touching his scars; her eyes, full of unshed tears, silently asked a question she was too afraid to voice. “Does it still hurt?” she wanted to ask, her expression betraying her concern.

Bucky’s eyes sparkled with affection, and he took her hand in his, holding it tenderly against his chest. “Don't worry. It does not hurt anymore,” he said with a reassuring smile.

The connection between them was electric, charged with a deep, unspoken understanding. Bucky’s gaze was steady and filled with a depth of unspoken emotion that took Y/N’s breath away. “I know this is difficult for you, Y/N,” he said, his voice laden with sincerity. “But I promise, I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”

His words and the way he looked at her left Y/N feeling both comforted and overwhelmed. For the first time since their wedding, she felt a genuine, flickering hope that maybe, just maybe, their marriage could become something more than a mere political arrangement. Bucky’s assurances, his gentleness, and the tenderness in his eyes began to dissolve the fears she had harboured since the beginning of their union.

As they sat there, the weight of the night’s expectations seemed to lift, replaced by a fragile but growing trust. Y/N had entered this marriage with a sense of duty, convinced that she would have to endure the consummation of their union as a matter of obligation. But Bucky’s tenderness, his understanding, and the sincere reassurance he had given her began to change her perspective.

The idea of fulfilling her marital duty had initially felt like a burden she had to bear. She had steeled herself to face it with resignation, convinced that it was merely another part of her role in this arranged marriage. But now, she found herself reconsidering. The idea of being with him no longer felt like an obligation but a possibility of something more profound and intimate.

Y/N hands softly toyed with the delicate strings of her sheer lingerie, pulling it softly as her doe eyes signalled her husband of her intention. Bucky, sensing the shift in her demeanor, looked into her eyes with a mixture of concern and affection. “Are you sure, my dear?” he asked softly. “I want you to feel safe with me and not afraid of me.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered as she met his gaze, her own eyes reflecting the depth of her emotions. “I am,” she said with quiet conviction. “I feel safe with you, James”

Bucky's hand naturally went to brush her hair behind her ear, “It’s Bucky, my dear,” he corrected softly.

“Hmm?” she asked, slightly puzzled.

He chuckled warmly. “You can call me Bucky from now on. It’s a nickname only a selected few who I trust and love knows.” Her eyes sparkled at his choice words; trust and love.

“Bucky…” she tested the name on her tongue, the syllables feeling strangely intimate. Upon hearing his name from her lips, Bucky’s heart swelled, almost bursting from his ribcage. He hummed in approval, “That's right, my dear. I’m your Bucky.”

His reassuring smile grew wider, his calloused thumb gently stroke her cheek causing a shiver to strum all over her nerves; sending an emerging desire. One she had not fully acknowledged until now. The way he looked at her, the pure and raw endearment in his eyes, and the softness of his touch stirred something deep within her.

As the moments passed, Y/N realised she wanted this. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, to explore the warmth of his hands, to connect with him on a level she had longed for. The yearning for his touch, which had been dormant under layers of fear and uncertainty, now surged forward with undeniable intensity.

Without fully understanding why, Y/N found herself leaning closer to him, her breath coming in soft, eager gasps. She whispered, her voice barely audible but full of longing, “Bucky, please.”

Bucky’s expression softened, and a tender light filled his blue eyes, “May I?” he asked, his voice low and gentle as he held out his hand. There a shy hesitation before she finally placed her hand in his.

With a gentle but firm pull, Bucky lifted her onto his lap, his careful hands beginning the process of undressing her. Each movement was full of care, yet almost deliberate, as he slowly removed her dress, leaving her in nothing but the flimsy lace piece covering the sacred area between her thighs.

Bucky's eyes roamed over her bare skin, admiration clear in his gaze. Y/N could feel the heat of his gaze, the way his eyes traced every curve and contour of her body. The intensity of it made her feel both vulnerable and cherished, a potent combination that sent pleasurable shivers all over her body.

Seeing the hunger in his blue eyes, she felt the warmth of his body and caught the scent of him; the same once she noticed at the church; warm and comforting. Her breath quickened, and she found herself unsure of what to do or where to place her hands, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

Noticing the subtle panic, Bucky reached for her hands and guided them through the thick strands of his long hair. “You can touch me as you please, my dear,” he whispered, his voice soothing as he reassured her. He leaned in to kiss her bare shoulder, then moved up to her neck, along her jaw, leaving a trail of warmth on her skin.

Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, the softness surprising her. The intimacy of the moment, combined with his gentle kisses, began to dissolve the last remnants of her anxiety. The feel of his lips on her skin was electrifying, each kiss sending waves of sensation she never felt before.

Bucky’s hands, still careful and tender, caressed her back, drawing her closer to him. Her breath hitched as he kissed the valley of her breasts; soft gasps escaping her lips as Bucky begins to lick and sucked on her delicate skin; likely trying to mark his claim on her.

Every touch and little kisses he left sent shivers straight to her already dripping core. And by the time his lips grazed her nipple, her body jerked forward; in response, unintentionally dragging her aching pussy against his thick thigh.

His lips latched around her right nipples as he licks and sucks the hardening skin; lapping at it as if he was feeding from her. The sensation was overwhelming, yet she found herself leaning into his touch, her body responding to his gentle ministrations. The grip on his hair grew tighter as the strings of moans poured out her lips.

Bucky’s large hands find their place on her hips, guiding her to gently rut on his thigh. Trusting him, she followed his lead as he continue to grind her clit through the thin fabric she was wearing; introducing the sweet friction in on her core. Bucky pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his expression filled with a mixture of subtle affection and desire. “You’re doing wonderfully, my dear. Can feel your pussy leaking on me. Do you feel good?” he murmured as he dipped back to kiss her neck.

Oh, he was filthy with his choice of words but surprisingly she was not mad about it. In fact she didn’t even notice the whimpers purring in her throat upon hearing those sinful words.

It was as if Bucky recognized that needy sound she made; it caused a smile to spread on his lips. She can feel it grow against the skin in between her breasts, “My my, is my sweet wife feeling needy right now?” he teased playfully as he effortlessly lifted her up and laid her down on their bed.

Placing himself in between her soft thighs, his lustful gaze trained on her naked body; he admired the marks he has left on her breasts, the wet patch on the flimsy fabric covering her cunt, and the way her breath shuddered when he teasingly grind his harden cock against her.

Y/N can feel the contrast of his hands on her thigh, one warm, one cold. Her eyes drew her attention from his hands to his gorgeous face. Oh, the pure unfiltered lust in his eyes was pulling her in so effortlessly; seducing her to submit her body and soul to him completely. Shying away from his stare, she dragged her view down to his chiselled jaw, his broad chest then slowly to his beautiful abs.

She admired his body as much as he did of hers.

But what was more prominent out of all, was the way she could feel his erection throbbing against her heat. Blood went rushing towards her face when Bucky guided her hips against the confinement of his cock, which in response; causing her hands naturally found their way to cover her face in embarrassment.

A deep chuckle bubbled from Bucky’s throat; he found her reaction to be absolutely endearing. He leaned down towards her, one hand holding himself up and another tenderly pulling her hands away, then drawing it close to his chest, right against his beating heart.

Having nowhere to run, Y/N’s teary eyes drowned in his ocean blues, “Don’t hide from me, dearest.” He peppered a delicate kiss on her forehead, then on her nose, then on her cheek. She could feel the prickly sensation of his beard grazing on her skin. It was ticklish and a little bit painful and yet weirdly enough, it felt good that it naturally made her want to nuzzle it more.

But before she could, Bucky’s lips were already making their way down to her stomach. Her body responds to how soft his lips trailing down; and further down until she could feel them on her clothed core. A surprised yelp fell from her lips as he tore the last piece of clothing from her.

“Now, hands away from your face, my dear. I want to see that beautiful eyes of yours when I eat your sweet pussy.” his voice was honeyed when he made himself comfortable in between her thighs. His hands reached upwards to intertwine both of her hands with his own; acting as a restraint to restrict her from covering her face.

Y/N almost sat up upon hearing his words, “Eat what now?”, the question she had in mind was unable to be vocalised; due to her confusion. Prior to marriage, she had learned about sex and its purpose in her marital studies. Unbeknownst to her, the knowledge she had was few and limited for academic purposes only. Which means there were only the few illustrations of penetration depicted in books and the process of how children are bred as a result of it.

So what does he mean when he said those words? While she was still lost and confused, Bucky on the other hand was in his own world; completely and utterly transfixed on the glistening need of her cunt. She was dripping wet; the juices covering her slits perfectly; her scent was intoxicating and if it weren’t for the fact that this is her first time, Bucky would’ve ate her like a man starved of touch. But, he can’t do that. Not tonight. He wanted to be gentle; to cherish her, to love on her.

Seeing the darkened clouds in his eyes as he stared at her private, Y/N braved herself to ask, “What are you– ohh hmmm” her sentence ended up transforming into a toe curling moan as she felt Bucky’s wet tongue flattened across her weeping core. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he dragged her clit into his mouth and sucked. He strummed her clit with his tongue, causing her to arch her back and he took the opportunity to push his face further into her cunt; licking and sucking quite the literal soul out her.

It felt amazing but her self-consciousness won the battle in her head, she let out a whimpering plea, “Buc--bucky st-stop. That’s dirty.” as she gripped on his hands, trying to escape from his grip. Bucky growled against her in response to her futile protest. The sweet vibration only caused her pleasure all over her fluttering core.

When Bucky pulled away for a moment; it caused her to feel a sense of loss. “It’s not dirty, my dear. In fact, it’s so sweet.” His lips moved to kiss on her inner thigh, murmuring against her skin as he left yet more of his marks on her, “So fucking sweet.” He releases his right hand from hers, just to rub his thumb on her clit, slowly dragging it in between her slit; smearing her wetness all around her throbbing bundle of nerves. Her thighs trembled to the sensation of his rough movement of his thumb and a string of shaky mewls fell out of her.

“But..” she tried to protest but immediately stopped when Bucky brought his soaked thumb to her mouth. Her lips were wet from how he gently smeared the juices on her, “Taste yourself.” He lured her softly. Hesitation glints in her eyes as her cheeks redden. Bucky’s eyes grew tender at her watery ones, he whispered lowly, “Sweetheart, do you trust me?”

She does; but she does not trust her own voice to not come out sounding like a needy moan, so she simply nodded. Bucky’s pink lips spread into a smile, “Good girl. Now, open up.” he coaxed lovingly.

Y/N opened her mouth as she was told and let Bucky slip his thumb inside; he was not shy to smother her juices across her tongue, coaxing her to suck on it. To get a taste of what he was having. “It’s sweet”, she thought to herself. A muffled moan purred in her throat at the thought of her husband enjoying the taste of her.

Bucky smirk grew at her reaction, “Tastes good huh, sweetheart?” he pulled his thumb away, leaving her nodding to his question. “Now are you going to let me enjoy your pussy?” his brow quirked when he tilted his head to the side. How can she deny him now? Her eyes glazed with need as she replied, “Yes, please”.

Her mouth falls open in anticipation as a low moan creeps up her throat. Bucky’s tongue slips past her folds, she watched him between her legs, savouring her pussy with his unfiltered groans vibrating against her sensitive spot. Breathless moans and incoherent pleads fall from her mouth as the soft and firm tip of his tongue circled her swollen pearl and flicked it. Bucky’s hands went to her hips, guiding it in time with her own movements, giving her partial control to set the pace.

“Buckyyyy.” She gasped as she alternated between wanting to push his head away or keep him in place. Meanwhile, the man in between her thighs had lost himself; consumed by pure desire the more he drank from her cunt. His tongue moved faster against her clit when he noticed the beat of her throbbing cunt increased. She was going to come. He was sure of it.

The way that she was practically creaming on his tongue drove him near feral. He kept lapping at her juices as if it was the sweetest honey he ever tasted; fuck he even sucked her clit in hopes to force out more of her nectar to leak; then he’d lap on it again.

The sweet cycle had pushed Y/N over the edge, her eyes rolling back as pleasure and her hips slightly lifted as pleasure surges through her veins.“Oh oh Bucky please please.” She didn’t what she was begging for as she chanted his name. “I’m gonna, ‘m gonna–“ her words died as she squealed; her body trembling in pleasure.

His tongue moved faster against her clit; her cum was dripping out of her; coating his beard but his frantic licks didn’t stop even when she continue to gush on his tongue.

“Bucky please, sensitive..” It was too much; her orgasm, her swollen clit, his tongue. Everything.

Unfortunately for her, Bucky was far gone to stop now. He had the taste of her cum, now he wants nothing more than to have it again. Despite her protest, Bucky held her hip down, interlocking his hands across her stomach to keep her in place and continue to lick and suck on her overstimulated cunt.

Her whiny pleas didn’t come across as a sign for him to stop; instead it kept him going causing him to bury his face further in between her legs. His cock continued to throb in his pants, probably leaking with so much pre-cum and in need of some sort of relief but he ignored it. He wants nothing more than for Y/N to cum on his tongue again.

And that is exactly what happened next.

The moment she fell over the edge, Bucky pushed her even harder against him as her whole body spasmed. He maintained his pace on lapping up at her all throughout her high as her hands went from his hair to the headboard, trying to hold her limp body upright. Y/N took a moment to gather herself together, panting heavily as she regained their senses; while Bucky was swift to pull his pants off and throw it to the side.

He grabbed on her hips, holding her firmly in place as his heavy leaking cock nestled between her aching pussy. “Are you sure about this, my dear?” his hot breath fanning against her neck as he gently ruts into her heat. Even though Bucky can see the darken lust in her eyes, he still wanted to make sure that she was sure of her decision.

Y/N’s heart swelled at his concern, and she found herself smiling, a genuine smile that reflected the warmth she felt inside. She pulled him closer and kissed him, pouring all her newfound trust and affection into the kiss. “Yes, Bucky. I am very sure. ”

Bucky quickly responded with equal passion, his tongue slipped in between her lips; exploring the warmness of her mouth, the softness of her tongue. Their muffled moans filled the silenced room, his hands moved to caress her sides, drawing her even closer before breaking away from the heated kiss.

Resting his forehead on hers, his eyes trained on her beautiful face; not wanting to miss his chance to witness the pleasure contorting on her expression. He nudges her clit first, rubbing it slow and sensual before trailing down to her entrance. Gradually, he inches closer, he pushes in and through the tightness of her sacred channel.

Delving impossibly deep, her tightness wrapped around his thick cock until the tip of him reached the deepest parts of her. The sudden feeling of fullness on her untainted pussy caused her to experience both pain and the delightful sensation inside her. The ecstasy of being so knitly connected to each other caused both of them to simultaneously let out moans and groans of raw pleasure.

Bucky waited for her to adjust to his size; leaning down to pamper her with the softest kisses and praises that tears started to swell in her eyes. It was as if Bucky knew exactly what she wanted to hear, how she wanted to be treated and what makes her feel good.

“You’re doing so good, my dear.”

“Look at how perfect your pussy’s taking my cock. So perfect.”

“Made for me aren’t you, sweetheart?. Made to be loved by me, made to be stuffed full of my cock.”

“I promise you’ll be safe with me, Y/N. Always.”

When Y/N finally gave him the permission to move, Bucky kissed her pouty lips and murmured sweetly, “Thank you, my dear.” His hands travelled to find her ankle; which he then gently prop her calf over his broad shoulder. He started pumping in and out slowly, letting her get used to the friction.

Bucky couldn’t help but to groan out to the feeling of her wet hole gripping his cock ever-so-tightly. It was slippery and dripping, that he almost completely slid out of her. Gripping her closer he continue ramming himself back in, deeper, harder; sliding in and out of her at an even pace. Each force of his cock causing her body to jerk in ecstasy; hitting that good spot in her so perfectly.

“S-shit, sweetheart,” he moans deep and heavy as he felt her pussy tightening around him. His metal hand slid in between them and his thumb hones in on her clit. The coldness of his finger made her jolt at first but when he proceeded to rub and pinch on it, everything suddenly started to feel too intense; so incredibly good.

With his fingers assaulting her clit, each thrust of his cock and every deep guttural moan and groan coming from Bucky, she felt her release was growing closer. Bucky also started thrusting faster and harder; he knew he was about to come. Especially when he can feel how much pre-cum has been leaking inside her.

He leaned and rested his forehead on hers, his needy ruts became more and more irregular when her pretty doe eyes looked up at him, “Cum for me, my dear.” his lips brushed against Y/N’s as he coaxed her to her sweet release. His thrusts got harsher and deeper and the friction of his metal finger working on her clit got her cunt to frantically tremble around him, “I wanna feel you milk my cock, sweetheart. Then, I’m gonna my pump cum inside you until you’re leaking.”

Although his words were debauched to no end, however Y/N could sense his genuine affection for her. She felt his sincerity in the way he looked at her, in the way he held her, in the silenced gaze they shared. Overwhelmed with pleasure, her nails dragged across Bucky’s back as she moaned and screamed out his name; letting the high took over her body.

“Fuck,, sweetheart. I’m gonna cum!” groaned as he took in the sound of her pleasured mewls. He ruthlessly grinds into her, savouring the feeling of her cunt tightened around him. With one last rut, he thrust his cock, balls deep inside and let his warm white strings filling her up to the brim. His cock twitches in her fluttering cunt, his legs tensing with every small grind he makes, groaning lowly at her as he bites down on her shoulder, almost drooling on her as he emptied himself completely into her.

Y/N continued to let out strings of soft moans as he pulled out from her leaking cunt; all swollen and sensitive. While she thought she could finally catch some breaths, she didn’t notice the way Bucky was biting on his lip at the sight of his cum dripping out of her, or how his hands lazily tugging on his now hardened cock.

“Dearest?” Bucky hovered above her as he cradled her by her flushed cheeks. She smiled sweetly as she leaned to his touch, “Yes, Bucky?”, she was anticipating him to utter more of those soft words and praises to her; but instead his lips curled into a devilish grin when he slid his cock back into her, immediately pulling a long sinful mewl of his name from her. Bucky hummed approvingly in response; he gently brushed his lips against hers, “May I fill you up again?”

As the morning sun streamed through the windows, Y/N slowly stirred awake. She reached out, instinctively searching for the warmth of her husband beside her, but found the space empty. A pang of loneliness touched her heart, but it was quickly replaced by curiosity when she saw a bouquet of bluebells, her favourite flower, placed delicately on the bedside table.

Next to the bouquet was a note. With a small smile, she picked it up and began to read.

"My Dearest Y/N,

I hate to leave you alone this morning, but I must ensure our journey home is smooth and safe. I trust you slept well, and I promise to return to your side as soon as I can.

Yours always,

Bucky"

The words written on the note were filled with sincerity and reassurance that made her heart flutter. She smiled, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she wondered how he knew bluebells were her favourite.

Just as she was lost in thought, the door opened, and the palace’s maids entered the room. Their faces were a mixture of curiosity and impatience, clearly expecting to see a frightened and bruised young bride.

However, when they saw Y/N's skin, they temporarily froze in their spots. Her skin was indeed bruised, but each one of them recognized the marks for what they were: love marks, not signs of harsh abuse that they were expecting. The traces of Bucky's possessive love were prominent all over her neck, chest, and inner thighs, leaving Y/N blushing as the maids, too, found themselves flushed with embarrassment.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” one of the older maids muttered under her breath, her tone laced with irritation. Another maid, with a more condescending sneer, huffed. “Looks like we lost the bet, ladies. Who would have thought the beast could be so... tender?”

Y/N’s cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and pride. She could feel their resentful glances and knew they were not pleased with the outcome. The marks on her body were a testament to the affection and desire Bucky had shown her, and despite the initial fear, she now wore them as symbols of the unexpected bond they had begun to forge.

The head maid, who had been the most vocal the night before, now seemed to handle her with an edge of bitterness. The other maids, who had been so quick to judge, were now silent, their eyes wide with resentment.One of the younger maids, braver than the rest, couldn’t hide her frustration. “Well, my lady, I suppose you’re alright, then?” she asked, her voice barely masking her disappointment.

Y/N looked at her, considering the appropriate response. If it was up to her, she ought to punish every single one of them for not knowing their place. Unfortunately, they were not her maids to begin with, but the palace's staff. Otherwise, she would likely fire each one of them.

The memory of Bucky’s affection and care filled her heart, leaving no room for anger or resentment. The warmth of his embrace and the gentle way he had treated her made the maids' behaviour seem petty and insignificant.

She could still feel the lingering touch of his lips on her skin, the way his hands had caressed her so delicately, and the sound of his reassuring voice. Her body was still tingling with the remnants of the previous night's intimacy. Her skin bore the marks of his love, not of brutality, and each bruise was a testament to the passion they had shared. It was completely different to the vile expectations of the maids.

A small smile playing on her lips despite the blush that still coloured her cheeks. "Yes," she said softly, "I am quite alright."

The maids exchanged annoyed glances, their expressions a mix of frustration and disbelief. Their muttered disappointments were tuned out as Y/N focused on the lingering warmth from the night before.

She couldn't hear a single thing except her heart beating to the thought of her husband. She missed him already. Who would’ve thought she’d be swooning for him so soon?

She found herself yearning for his presence, the comfort of his touch, and the sound of his reassuring voice. The memory of his gentle kiss and tender words lingered in her mind yet again, making her heart flutter.

As the maids continued their work, Y/N hoped they would at least perform their duties well enough to cover up for their childish behaviour. She wanted to be ready to see Bucky, to greet him with the same warmth and affection he had shown her. Despite their rudeness, she resolved to focus on the positive, cherishing the newfound bond with her husband.

Bucky stood at the head of the table, his stern expression and commanding presence filling the room. He was reviewing the logistics of their journey home, his voice cold and decisive as he issued instructions to his knights. His trusted knight, Sam, was detailing the possible hotspots for bandits they might encounter along the way.

"We'll likely face trouble here," Sam said, pointing to a spot on the map. "We should send some of our best men ahead to clear the path."

"Agreed," Bucky responded, his tone unyielding. "Deploy the knights in advance. Ensure the path is secure before we proceed."

Sam nodded and continued outlining the plan. He paused, expecting Bucky to reconfirm, but noticed a change in his leader's face. The harsh lines softened, his eyes filled with a tender warmth, as he stared intently at something across the room. Before Sam could look or utter a word, Bucky turned and walked away with determination.

Sam followed Bucky's gaze and understood immediately. "Ah, that's why," he muttered to himself as he watched Bucky approach Y/N. The change in Bucky’s demeanour was striking. He moved with a grace and warmth that was at odds with his usual stern and imposing presence.

Bucky’s eyes softened as he took in the sight of Y/N. He admired her beauty with a gaze filled with awe and adoration. The way he looked at her was as if he was seeing a vision he had longed for, a rare and precious gem that had finally come into his life.

As he extended his hand toward her, a gesture usually seen as etiquette but now entirely with different meaning, especially with the hearts bursting our of his blue eyes. Y/N’s face lighting up with a shy smile, took his hand; almost too eagerly. Bucky's fingers closed gently around hers, his touch tender and reassuring. The contrast between his usual, fearsome reputation and the gentle way he interacted with her was profound, making it clear that his feelings for Y/N were deeply genuine.

Bucky kissed the back of her hand, his lips softly caressing her knuckles. "My dear," he greeted her, using the endearment he had chosen when they first met at the altar.

The scene seemed like it was pulled raw from a romance novel that the surrounding staff and knights simply watched in shock and awe. "Did he just..." one knight whispered, eyes wide. "Called her 'my dear'?" another finished, equally stunned.

Sam, who had witnessed firsthand the monstrous side of Bucky in war, found himself in a state of utter disbelief, jaw dropped loose. He had seen Bucky’s sword painted blood-red, his face splattered with the gore of countless enemies. The Winter Soldier was a force of nature on the battlefield, his brutal efficiency leaving a trail of carnage in his wake. Sam recalled the sight of Bucky’s cold, unyielding eyes as he cut through foes without hesitation, his armor and weaponry gleaming with the blood of those who dared oppose him.

And yet, here he was, the same man who had struck terror into the hearts of many, now standing before Y/N with a tenderness that seemed unimaginable. Sam could hardly believe his eyes. The disparity was pronounced and bewildering. Bucky’s expression was soft, his movements gentle as he held Y/N’s hand in his.

“I’ve missed you,” Y/N said softly, her eyes shining with affection. She truly did, it would be a lie that she didn’t felt the ache in her heart when she woke up alone that morning. The emptiness beside her had felt profound. The bed still carried his scent, a lingering warmth that whispered of his recent presence. Even though the separation had been brief, as evidenced by the thoughtful note and the bouquet of her favourite flowers he had left behind, the loneliness she felt was palpable. His absence, however fleeting, had created a void that left her feeling incomplete.

Bucky’s heart seemed to burst with emotion. He couldn't care less about the gawking staff surrounding them as he pulled her close and kissed her deeply. She initially froze, caught off guard and embarrassed, but soon melted into his kiss with a blossoming confidence.

As their lips met, memories of their tender and passionate night together surged through Bucky's mind. The way she moan his name, the taste of her cum, the tightness of her pussy gripping on his cock, the way his cum leaked out of her, every single sinful scene replayed in head; infinitely. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and he found himself nearly losing control. Reluctantly, he pulled back from the kiss, his breath uneven and his gaze filled with an unspoken hunger.

"God, what should I do with you, hmm, sweetheart?" Bucky whispered, his voice laced with seduction as he continued to place gentle kisses along her cheeks and jaw. His lips brushed softly against her skin, whispering how much he had missed her and expressing a wistful desire to stay wrapped in the warmth of their shared bed just a little longer.

Y/N’s soft giggle rang out as she felt the roughness of his stubble against her delicate skin. The sound was like music to Bucky's ears, brightening his mood and filling him with a profound sense of joy. Despite the joyful exchange, he reluctantly ended the sweet torment, his kisses lingering just a moment longer before he pulled away.

“We should be ready to begin our journey shortly,” Bucky said, his tone shifting to a more practical note when e turned to Sam, who had approached during their moment of intimacy.

“Y/N, this is Sam Wilson, he is one of my trusted knights.” Bucky introduced, his gaze shifting to his wife. Sam gave a respectful nod to Y/N, a hint of surprise still evident in his expression from witnessing Bucky's affectionate display. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Y/N.”

Y/N smiled warmly at Sam, appreciating the introduction. “The pleasure is mine, Sir Wilson.”

Sam, sensing that the formality was unnecessary given their imminent interactions, decided to ease the situation. “Just Sam, my lady,” he said with a friendly tone. Y/N repeated his name with a touch of amusement. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sam.”

Bucky, observing the growing camaraderie between his wife and his trusted knight, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of protectiveness. The easy familiarity between them seemed a bit too casual for his liking. His eyes narrowed slightly as he gave Sam a warning look. “Watch it, Wilson.”

Sam, not missing a beat, chuckled at Bucky’s protective demeanour. “What’s the matter, my lord? Can’t handle a bit of friendly conversation?”

Y/N, noticing the playful tension and Bucky’s slight irritation, couldn’t help but laugh. The contrast between Bucky’s usually soft demeanour that Y/N had witnessed and his current protective stance were both endearing and amusing. Her laughter lightened the mood, making Sam’s teasing even more enjoyable.

Bucky's stern gaze softened as he watched Y/N’s laughter, though his protective instinct remained palpable. Steering the conversion back to the preparations, he allowed a faint smile to tug at the corners of his mouth despite his earlier warning.

“I trust you can escort my wife to the carriage,” Bucky said, his voice serious but tinged with a hint of a smile. “However, I expect you to maintain proper distance and adhere to these additional guidelines.” He paused, ensuring his words were clear. “No unnecessary physical contact or overly familiar behaviour. And if you could, avoid any casual conversations that might be misinterpreted.”

Sam looked at Bucky in disbelief, shaking his head with a bemused expression. “Seriously, Barnes? You’re laying down rules for me to keep my distance from your wife now?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Consider it a precaution. I’d rather not have any misunderstandings.” Sam chuckled, rolling his eyes as he complied. “Understood. I’ll make sure to follow your... guidelines.”

Y/N watched the exchange with amusement, her earlier shyness melting away into a warm appreciation for Bucky’s protectiveness. The scene, tinged with a touch of comedy, only deepened the connection between them.

Bucky, intent on making a point to Sam while expressing his affection, pulled Y/N close and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. The gesture was both intimate and deliberate, a subtle yet clear indication to Sam that she belongs to Bucky. “I’ll join you shortly, my dear,” Bucky said softly, his voice filled with warmth as he gazed into her eyes.

Sam, unimpressed by Bucky’s display, rolled his eyes at the seemingly childish antics. “This way, my lady,” he said with a hint of impatience. Y/N nodded in agreement but paused before turning her back on Bucky. With a loving smile, she whispered, “I’ll see you later,” before following Sam.

Bucky watched as Sam guided Y/N away, his gaze lingered with a mix of affection and something much deeper; an unspoken sadness. As their silhouettes walked further and further away from his sight, a sombre glaze settled over his eyes.

Beneath the surface of his composed exterior, his heart ached; the was a silent reflection of a pain he had hidden deep within his heart. It was a lingering sorrow that had shadowed him ever since he stood at the altar, the weight of unvoiced grief clinging to him as he gazed at his future bride.

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Wondering why he was in the feels at the end? We’ll know it soon enough. I’ll see you in the next parts! Thank you for reading!

#bucky barnes au #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fluff #bucky smut #bucky angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #winter soldier!bucky #medieval!bucky #duke!bucky #grumpy!bucky #soft!bucky

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call-sign-shark · 9 months

Text

Of Bending and Breaking || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Always being the one who cares for others comes with a price: you break down, but the most unexpected person is here for you: Tommy, the man you were forced to marry.

Words: 2,3k

TW: Hurt/Comfort, very tiny mention of past sexual assault, no proofreading 'cause it comes from clearing my drafts.

Notes: Aunt Isabella's is a tribute to my own aunt Isabelle who, unfortunately, died because of cancer a few years ago.

It all started with Polly shaking Tommy like a tree, her thin hands firmly grabbing his nephew’s broad shoulders: “You can’t keep sabotaging yourself like this, Tom.” These were the words that left her quivering lips as she dragged his staggering frame to the bathroom and pushed his face into the bathtub right under the tap. When the freezing water splashed all over his neck, Tommy opened his blank eyes wide and inhaled sharply, as if he had suddenly come back to life. Since Grace’s awful death, the gangster was the shadow of his former self. When he wasn’t waging a senseless war with Father Hughes and the Italian, or when he wasn’t keeping his buzzing mind busy with work, Tommy usually numbed himself with a deadly combination of whisky and opium until his deep-seated pain became bearable. It was the night he almost overdosed that Polly decided to take charge of his nephew and found him a new wife, in the hope of soothing his nephew’s mind and finding a mother figure for poor little Charlie. The idea had obviously sent Tommy in a fit of anger but Polly Gray couldn’t care less.

Regarding your own situation, it was not the opium nor the loss of a dear lover that had led you to Birmingham’s most dangerous man but rather the bump in your belly. Aunt Isabella had understood what you were suffering from the moment you had stormed out of the vardo to throw up your breakfast in the nearest bush. The tall and lean woman, whose light brown and curly mane danced in the cold autumn wind, had looked at you right in the eyes and raised one of her thin eyebrows. If there was something pleasant with her, it was that words weren’t necessary.

Yet, later she encountered Polly, with whom she had been a great friend since childhood, and explained that a powerful American man had forced his seeds in you during his stay in England. Not willing to go through the traumatic experience of aborting, Isabella only saw one solution to your problem: you needed a husband who could protect you and your future baby from the evil man with his scarred lip. A wedding would be your salvation. At the realization of what Aunt Isabella had planned for you, you tried to run away from the camp in the middle of the night but she knew you too well and soon caught you, her sly hand firmly grabbing your wrist: “Y/N! It’s for your sake! He’s rich, he needs a wife and he is feared! You’ll be safe with him, don’t you understand?” She explained, cupping your face with her long fingers adorned with claws painted in red and far too many rings. “I don’t need a man to protect me! I don’t need anyone. He’s older and he’s a criminal! Who’s going to protect me from him eh? Have you think ‘bout that?” You cried, the soft light of the sunrise turning your tears into liquid gold.

But still, you wedded him and what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life turned out to be a dull event during which you dissociated the whole time. The only memories you had in mind were two piercing and frightening turquoise eyes staring right at your soul and soft whiskey-tasting lips stealing a quick peck from your cherry lips. A kiss devoid of any form of affection. And then, the groom left.

From what Aunt Isabella told you, your husband had spent most of the celebrations with his brothers, drinking and taking bets outside of Arrow House. Months had passed and still, you felt estranged to this place and its staff. The only moments your heart lightened were when Aunt Isabella visited you, or when Charlie spent time with you, otherwise you remained emotionally closed, trapped in your own mind. Overall you could not complain: You had a house far too big for you with plenty of workers willing to exhaust every one of your wishes. Charlie was a sweet boy, who loved you with all his heart even if you were well aware that you’ll never replace his mother. As for the Shelby clan, they were cordial with you without being really friendly either. And there was Tommy…

Cold and distant Tommy, who you only saw late at night when he discretely slipped under the bedsheet and turned his back to you without uttering a single word. Busy Tommy, whose replies remained concise and spoken with a quiet husky voice each time you asked him something — at least he talked to you a little bit. Trapped in a loveless marriage, that was what you were: Tommy was more a stranger, a mere gust of wind in your life, than the love of your life.

Still, the gangster stayed true to his words and he provided for everything, never refusing to give you money when you asked, and protecting you from the man who had taken your innocence. He even gifted you a wonderful stallion because he knew how much you missed riding. In exchange for his protection and riches, all you had to do was take care of Charlie and do your best to be there for your husband when his darkness threatened to swallow him whole.

You found out about the nightmares shortly after your wedding and quickly decided to do something about it. When he woke up screaming and drenched in sweat after tasting the tunnels’ dirt and Grace’s crimson blood in his troubled sleep, you always cradle him, your fingers losing themselves in his wet dark hair to pet his head gently. At first, you feared his reaction, expecting the infamous Tommy Shelby to push you and not-so-kindly ask you to keep your distance but, to your greatest surprise, he never did. Instead, he would bury his face in your cleavage, panting and trembling, and let you reassure him. Just like he let you bring dinner to him each time he drowned himself in paperwork and forgot to eat. He never commented on your cooking skills though, even if he always handed back empty plates.

The blood on his skin? You cleaned it.

The wounds of his flesh? You never failed to patched them up.

The hole in his heart? You tried to seal it off with caresses, soft kisses, and shoulder massages. Maybe one day he would slowly turn his iciness into affection. Little did you know that he needed it. And by it he needed you. Just like the whole family. How many times did you walk the streets of Birmingham at night, seeking for Arthur and then bringing him home to take care of a wasted and high him? Far too many to keep track. Similarly, you had spent countless evenings helping Ada when she felt overwhelmed, either nursing Karl or cleaning her house when, just like her brother, she overworked herself. And finally, Polly could never thank you enough for everything you did to soothe her mind after the gallows, still haunted by the bite of the hanging rope on her throat.

“Thanks Poppy.” Arthur muttered, the gravel in his voice coated with shame now that you were down clearing and disinfecting his split knuckles. The oldest brother had started to affectionately call you so for the sole reason that, according to him, you must probably grow better when blood was considering how much you had seen when patching the Shelby siblings. “Sorry for errr… For the mess.” He went on, his steel blue eyes fleeing yours.

“That’s okay.” You replied in Romani, “You, sweet idiot.” Endeared by how surprisingly soft Arthur’s harsh complexions could turn, you couldn’t help but gently put your hand on one of his cheeks. And during this tender display of affection, Arthur was convinced he had caught sight of a smile — a scarce event barely happening on your beautiful but resigned face. Comforted by the warmth of your palm, he leaned into your touch and looked at you through dark lashes, his lids half-closed.

“Tommy’s one lucky bastard to have ya for himself, eh."

"Let's both flee together then." You teased, the familiar tone of Romani language rendered even more melodious by your siren-like voice.

"Don't tempt me, little one." Arthur replied, softer than intended and probably only half-joking.

The oldest Shelby brother had barely closed the door when your smile disappeared and tears flooded your eyes. Admittedly, spending months of repressing your own anguish didn’t do any good to you despite thinking that focusing on others would have helped. Quite the contrary, all those negative emotions you had left on the back burner turned into a silent and deadly parasite that was eating you up. Dragging your tired frame to the cold and empty marital bedroom, you curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, your bruised knees pressed against your chest, “Positive. You gotta stay positive and push forwards y’see Y/N? Do the right things for the family…” You whispered to yourself as your breath started to quicken for the ball of sorrow in your throat was growing more and more. Yes, you had to smile and say that all was just fine because you knew you were lucky to be here and that you hadn’t any real reason to complain now according to the rest of the world. And yet, the truth was you were tired. So tired and overwhelmed by everything around you. With your wild soul trapped here in the mighty walls of Arrow House, you could not help but drown in an excruciating feeling of worthlessness.

You were lost in a world too difficult for you to understand. Lost and unprepared for a life that asked for too much. When you were living in the vardo with Aunt Isabella life seemed so much easier despite the lack of money and, sometimes, food. Prior to your wedding, she used to tell you that everything would become clear once you’d be a wife and a mother. You’d be an adult adult, you see? But she lied. They all lied. Even with a husband and kids, you still felt like a scared and confused child, who wanted to hide under the blanket of her warm bed and never face the world ever again. These concerns of yours? You never shared because you wanted the Shelby to keep seeing you as a reassuring presence— moreover, God knew how much their broken hearts needed your silent care.

Bringing your trembling fingers to your mouth, you muffled a first sob, convinced it would be enough to keep you from crying. What you didn’t expect was to burst into tears, uncontrollably weeping. After all this time forcing yourself to be strong, your mind had enough. As your heart-wrenching cries echoed in the room they muffled Tommy’s footsteps that were coming closer and closer. When the door flung open, you did not even move, lost in a spiral of pain and psychological exhaustion.

“Y/N?!” Tommy called you, his usual coldness swept away by a surge of panic. He closed the distance between you and him with hastened steps, and put one of his knees on the floor to be at your level, “What’s wrong, ay?” His husky voice asked, worries thickening his Brummie accent even more. You hiccuped and raised your flooded eyes towards him, parting your lips to answer. Yet, as soon as your gaze met his turquoise iris you started weeping again, louder this time. Words were at a loss by dint of never having the chance to express what you felt throughout your life. “Bloody Hell, Y/N! Speak!” Tommy hissed, his heart now drumming in his chest at the sight of his young and always-so-strong wife crumbling in bits in front of him. Never in his life, he had felt so powerless, not even in the tunnels… And, God, he hated it.

“N-nothing. I don’t… I don’t even know it’s just that— I’m so fucking tired, and lost, and confused, and afraid!” You spoke with a very fast pace, spitting years and years of repressed emotions flowing from you all the while feeling deeply ashamed of your mental breakdown. When you were done venting, you simply turned your head and waved off the topic, tears still rolling down your reddened cheeks “Anyway! You’ve got — more important things to do.”

“Stop it, Y/N,” He scolded, low voice rumbling in his chest. His strong and calloused hands, damaged by the war and hard work, cupped your face with a softness you didn’t know he possessed. For the first time in your life, his grip felt utterly reassuring as if you knew these scarred palms were not going to let you fall apart. Never. “You’re what’s important right now.” With that being said, Tommy leaned his forehead against yours and his enchanting eyes soon met yours to force you to focus on nothing else but the vast blue oceans which composed them. “I want you to calm down.”

“I can’t, I can’t—“ You tried to speak but you couldn’t, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight of your panic attack. Your mouth gaped, looking for the oxygen it couldn’t find.

“Oi!” Tommy said louder. So loud that his voice managed to overcome the cacophony of your beating heart and the buzzing sound of your anxiety that filled your head, “I want you to breathe with me, Y/N. Alright? You can do that for me, ay?” He asked, his eyebrows slightly frowned and charming crowfeet appearing at the corner of his eyes — how odd it was to see Tommy’s face veiled with something else than unsettling placidity. Caught off guard by the sudden realization of how close he was, you quieted down a little bit and soon followed the pattern of his breathing.

One long inhale through the nose, one longer exhale through the mouth, and a short pose.

Do it again.

Your shaky hands slowly grabbed his wrists in a desperate attempt to anchor you to reality. This, as well as the focus you had on his mesmerizing complexions.

His long dark lashes — you inhaled slowly.

His cat-like turquoise iris — you exhaled.

His salient cheekbones — You stopped breathing for a very short while.

The myriad of freckles — “Breathe with me, Y/N.”

The soft, hoarse lilt guided you through the dark and thick fog of your own brain, just like a lighthouse. Coming back to clearer waters, your body finally relaxed and fell almost limp in his arms. And once again he caught you, keeping you all safe against his chest. Tommy’s voice, low and steady, resonated one last time in the bedroom with a reassuring warmth as he uttered the simple yet powerful phrase, "I'm here." Each word carefully enunciated, carrying a quiet strength that soothed and reassured, like a comforting anchor in a stormy sea.

Keep your writers motivated: Reblog and/or comment if you liked it, you filthy animal! o/ English is not my first language btw.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @red-riding-wood

#Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #Peaky blinders imagine #Peaky blinders x reader #Peaky blinders #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby smut #Thomas Shelby #Thomas Shelby x reader #Cillian Murphy #peaky blinders x y/n

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dclovesdanny · 8 months

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Something I will never get enough of is Danny killing the Joker. However, something I want to see more of, is Danny killing the Joker for Ellie.

Like, Jason and Danny are neighbors and they’ve been friends for a little while. Jason knows Danny has the 20 something year old mechanic with a six-year-old daughter who is an absolute gremlin. He really likes them both, and he might have a little crush on his neighbor.

Then when they are out at the park or something, the Joker attacks. The joker decides to grab a hostage and who does he grab, but this six year old girl who only seems to have one person who knows her, a scrawny 20 something person. She has dark hair and blue eyes and only person who seems to care about her is her older brother/possible father? Perfect bait for Batman.

He wasn’t counting on Danny being able to fight god for his family. He didn’t realize that Danny will do anything to protect his family, that, in his literal core, he is sworn to protect his people, no matter the cost. the joker did not realize that Danny loves Ellie enough to not only die (again) for her, but to kill for her.

The Joker doesn’t die to Batman, or in some big battle. The Joker dies to a man no one knew because the Joker kidnapped his daughter. The joker dies, because he forgot that not everyone has the same hangups about killing that Batman does. The Joker dies because he pushed a parent too far.

Jason is there during all of this. I think he’s either there as red hood, watching through the cameras, or there is Jason. All three of these have many different pros for various forms of angst.

If Jason is there as red hood, he’s probably with some of the batfamily, and they are holding him back from killing the Joker. They’re trying to figure out how to make it so that the joker won’t kill this little girl, and Jason is going feral because that is his kid. That is the little gremlin who lives next-door, who knocks on his door and treats him like a jungle gym. That’s his kid. When he sees Danny jump at the Joker, he’s going to have a straight up panic attack and he’s gonna get the guns ready, but he doesn’t need to.

If he’s there as Jason, I think the joker would also take him hostage. Jason Wayne, the brat who would get him a lot of money. Especially if the Joker knows that this was the second Robin, because this just means he can get two killed in one swoop. And Jason is trying to protect Ellie with everything in him, cursing himself for not bringing a gun with him and praying that this time Bruce isn’t too late. And he can see the pain in Danny’s eyes and he is so scared to lose this family he has. He praised to a God he doesn’t believe in this time, history won’t repeat itself.

I feel like it would be most painful, if he’s watching through cameras. He’s probably injured or in the middle of doing something for his civilian life . Maybe he’s even out of town, but turned the camera on to look out for the joker, and had a heart attack when he saw the little girl next-door being held by the Joker. This man is trying so hard to get there, breaking every traffic law, praying that he won’t be too late that this won’t be the same as his death. His trauma is excruciating, because this feels like when he was waiting for Bruce and Bruce not getting there until it was too late.

No matter which of these scenarios, he needs to see Danny snap and kill the joker. Maybe, in the camera scenario, it’s just this he arrives that he sees it. Either way, he needs to see the moment, the Joker dies at the head of a single father, and the parallel of Bruce and him and Danny and Ellie need to be very apparent. Because this time the dad wasn’t afraid to kill.

This is the moment I feel, Jason would fully acknowledge that he would do anything for these people. That these two neighbors of his have become his family. The moment he sees the two of them holding each other, and the jokers body at their feet, I guarantee you this man is fighting tooth and nail not to go over his red hood exposed them. if he’s Jason, he can run into hug them no problem, but if he’s red hood, he’s not going to be able to do that.

This man will fight with Batman if he even that should get in trouble for killing the Joker. He will threaten to never ever speak to Bruce ever again, will be ready to bribe the police into letting Danny go, we will race every camera footage out there of the event, will do anything for this family.

Later that day, he won’t have nightmares of the Joker for the first time in a while. He will be able to look at his family and rest easy, knowing that there’s no way that Joker can take them from him.

#long post #dc x dp #dc x dp writing prompt #dead on main #angst #de aged ellie #dad danny #joker dies #falling in love #favorite

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originalwinnerfanfish · 1 month

Text

Well, it was a big piece of work, hah

I took a break from RW and decided to draw something nostalgic

Actually I've been stuck with this idea for two years now and I'm glad I finally found the strength to do something about it. Thanks for inspiration from one good man)

Long story short

In this AU autobots and deceptions are two unions of different tribes: mudwings, seawings and sandwings for the firsts and icewings, nightwings, rainwings and Pantala tribes for seconds. Skywings doesn’t exist anymore (because we need someone who takes place of predacons).

People are just people or scavenger if you prefer. And instead of whole cosmos it’s just two mainlands.

- Optimus Prime - I kinda like tfp Optimus. So formidable, powerful and mysterious but really gentle at the same time. And mud/sea combo works here in the best way. As the representation of two main tribes union and strong father/brother figure for team members.

I also think he might be an animus (but don’t use his magic often, especially for killing someone)

- Ultra Magnus - Pure Icewing already will be great for him, but I gave him part of seawing so he could be more like an Optimus. But instead of being softer and warmer, Magnus is more cold and pragmatic version of him. A character who sees other dragons not as close allies and friends but as ordinary soldiers.

- Ratchet - Yeah, the seawing would fit him better, but i just don’t know how to make the colors work here sooo… he’s a weak-fire mudwing. Like a skywing, but mudwing. Why not. Make sense with his lack of guns in origin. I think he’s design can be better, and maybe I’ll remake it.

I love his arc of recognizing people as equals and especially his interactions with Raphael. I think Ratchet often read him scrolls about history and magical artifacts.

- Bulkhead - No surprises here - mudwing fit him perfectly. I think that the Wreckers could been a big and strong mudwing troops, and Bulkhead was a bigwings in such a one. He is lost a lot of his siblings during the war, and therefore tries with all his might to protect the new members of his family. I absolutely adore his relationship with Miko and Jackie, so for me he’s one of the cutest character, and I tried to make his forms round and soft.

- Bumblebee - I know that majority draw him as a hivewing, but in that case the most logical for him will be a night/sandwing. Literally, autobots get their own Sunny)

I think in this version with his lack of a voice he could communicate using sign language or some variation of aquatic.

- Arcee - Also nothing special - she is a seawing. I originally wanted to give her a helmet but it was too hard to draw. Just like Sunny she was born pretty small and now even younger dragons can be bigger than her. I’m pretty sure she is old enough to have seen Bumblebee when he was a dragonet, so she's literally like an older sister to him.

Actually she really gives me a Queen Glory vibes with her sarcasm and dangerous beauty, so rainwing might fit her as well.

- Smokescreen - I used to think he was just a cringe, but now I realize he's a pretty interesting and realistic character. Like Ultra Magnus, I wanted to make him look like Optimus, only this time Smoke is more of a younger and much more irresponsible version of him. I think in this version (being part rainwing) he's trying to mimic Optimus's coloring using same red, blue and pale-gray shades.

- Wheeljack - The scruffy boy! I think in this version he could be Bulkhead's "adopted sibling", so they are really close to each other. And, because he spent most of his life with Bulkhead, it's harder for him to get close to other tribes and dragons.

Painting scales to keep canonical colors is kinda cheating, but for this dude it totally works. He should have a pretty bright appearance with all those scars and bright spots.

Cliffjumper - Ohoh… this poor guy. I didn't even think of putting him here, but I like his smug face too much. Even making his scales darker than the original, it's still too brightly colored for mudwing. He probably jokes about it a lot, saying that his ancestors were skywings.

I really like his dynamic with Arcee, and it's a shame we haven't seen much of their relationship. I think I need to do something cute about that.

#wof #wings of fire #mudwing #seawing #sandwing #tfp #transformers #transformers prime #wof crossover #tf #tf crossover #optimus prime #ultra magnus #bumblebee #arcee #ratchet #tfp smokescreen #cliffjumper #bulkhead

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bluewolfangel01 · 3 months

Text

How the brothers make sure you're safe in the Devildom: Older Bros edition

Lucifer

Papa Luci mode activated

He has to know where you are or where you're going if you want to go out

It doesn't matter to him that you have 7 of the most powerful demons under your command or that you're training under humanity's most power sorcerer

You are required to have someone with you when traveling anywhere in the Devildom

If he doesn't know where you are, for some reason, he while be doing everything he can just to figure out your location

Of course he isn't going to panic just yet mind you, he'll first ask his brothers if they know where you are

Ex. he makes Levi track your phone or asks Mammon to locate you via crow familiar

If none of them know, then he's going to ask the dateables and side characters

And if they don't know?

He (and the everybody else of course) are going to tear the Devildom apart to make sure that you're okay

And if you are not? May Father have mercy on whoever dared to lay a finger on you cause Lucifer won't

If he starts getting on your nerves about always having to know a general area of where you are, don't hold it against him to much

He just doesn't want you to get hurt, cause if you were you'd have a very said and pissed off Luci on your hands

Mammon

Two words: Crow familiar

Around when you made a pact with him, he gave you a crow familiar

He claimed that it was to make sure he didn't have to deal with Lucifer's punishment if you ever died or even got hurt

Don't let him fool you, that man just wants to make sure you're safe cause he cares about you so much

He has so many crows he sadly can't keep track of ALL their names, so he let's you name yours

The crow will of course love you to bits and do things for you because of his connection to Mammon and cause you treat them so nice

Pls have some seeds on you, the crow will adore you even more if you do

Whenever your out the crow will follow and watch you from a distance or maybe even close by depending on how big the crowds are

If you're ever in trouble and can't handle it (or even if you can) the crow network is put into use to alert Mammon

The second he is told he drops whatever it is that he's doing and he's rushing to get to you no matter what

He'd take out the threat so fast, you blink and it's gone and in its place is Mammon

He's smiling at you and saying how he just so happened to be in the neighborhood

Whatever the threat was seems to have disappeared and Mammon leads you away saying how he wants to show you something he wants to buy nearby

But if you listen closely, you can hear a series of loud caws coming around the area you were just at

Simp

Levithan

Although he doesn't go out of his room much, that doesn't mean that he can't protect you from the outside

Like previously mentioned, there's a tracker on your phone (all the brothers have the same on theirs, don't feel bad)

The only reason he checks it is either because Lucifer asked him or it's been a bit since he's seen or talked to you and wants to know that you're okay

The other way he protects you is checking online and keeping a lookout for any potential threats or nefarious plans against you

He won't intervene unless said people seem to be very serious or actually putting their plan into motion

If such a plan is in motion, he warns the rest of his brothers

No matter what arises if he either ends up stopping or warning the others about there's always the same result

Anything they want online, somehow they can't find it anywhere

They want to simply look about the internet? They best be prepared for all the pop up adds and bugs imaginable

Levi is making sure they never even think about hurting you ever again

This turned out longer then I originally thought it would be.... I promise to write about the other brothers!

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witchthewriter · 3 days

Text

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐫𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ENTJ

Gryffindor

Neutral Good

Capricorn Sun, Virgo Moon, Aquarius Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・Your main concern, out of this situation, was how Vermithor would react to not only the colder weather but having to stay there.

・It is known that dragons do not like to travel far (without a rider) and love heat. So how would he stay with you?

・Your second concern was being away from your family... you had never been apart from them. Ever since being born, you were close to your siblings - but your mother cherished you in a different way...

・As her only girl, she hated having to send you away. But she knew House Stark would keep you safe. And you had Vermithor... Surely you would be okay?

・The first time you met Cregan was when you were both infants. Viserys had thrown you the largest nameday and the Lord of Winterfell came, along with his son.

・Being a few years older than you, Cregan can recount the memory. Especially the time you had grabbed his nose so tight that he thought you were going to tear it right off.

・The second time was only a few weeks ago, when you had flown with Daemon after Luke's funeral. (Rhaenyra wanted to go herself, but Daemon had become a father figure when Harwin died and she remarried.)

・You were used to Daemon. House Stark was not.

・And it was the Stark's maester who had interrupted a few times to keep both Cregan and Daemon in check.

・But Daemon was only testing the Stark - he wanted to know you would be protected.

・When the day came to leave, everyone came to see you off.

・Your brothers were teary-eyed, especially Joffrey who had clutched onto Jace. Your eyes matched his own - full of tears, puffy and red. You had been crying all night.

"I'm going to miss you all so much," you said to your brothers who had hugged you tightly. The white haired ones didn't understand what was going on, but they babbled to you anyway.

・Jace put on a brave face; he knew Cregan would keep you safe.

"I wish I could stay," you mumbled into Jace's chest, but he just kissed the top of your head and held your cheek.

"You are doing more than you know," damn him for being so wise, you had thought.

・You hugged Baela and Rhaena, all three of you had become so close that it physically hurt to know you wouldn't see them everyday.

"We'll see each other again," Rhaena cooed, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

"And when we do, you have to tell us all about marriage..." Baela said, a twinkle in her eye.

You bumped her shoulder, "Baela! Of course you know I will!" All three of you laughed and hugged once more.

・Your mother was the last to give you farewell.

・She leaned her forehead against your own, tears spilling down her cheeks. Rhaenyra was full of inner-conflict. A large part of her didn't want to send you away to get married. But that's what royals had to do - especially in times of war. She wanted you safe; but wasn't safe with her?

・No. Rhaenyra had decided that being at home, at Dragonstone wasn't safe for you.

・But she knew Vermithor would stay with you - you were his first rider since Jahaerys, and that bond would protect you like no other.

・However, Vermithor's brute personality made this change in scenary difficult.

・It wasn't the first time in his life that he'd been to Winterfell. But having to relocate there was a challenge.

・Until Cregan had shown you the new cave/dragon pit they had made for him. It was incredibly warm, and large enough for him to stalk off into.

・Saying thank you to Cregan didn't feel enough. So you kissed him on the cheek and ran after Vermithor to see it for yourself

・The first time Vermithor and Cregan met, it nearly had you in stitches.

・Cregan didn't think it was funny for a long time. But after a few weeks, whenever you told the story - he let a smile appear on his face

・You had settled into Winterfell easier than you thought you would. You asked Cregan why that was - how Winterfell was just as warm of a castle as any other.

"Centuries ago, Bran the Builder had built Winterfell around an ancient godswood and over natural hot springs. The water is piped through walls and chambers to heat them. This is why Winterfell is far superior than any castle," he winked as he said it and you snorted in response, for it would be an insult to any other royal.

・But Cregan did have a great point - the system that Bran used when making Winterfell made it far more comfortable than other castles during the harsh northern winters.

・Every room had a fireplace that was kept lit all day, everyday. It was absolutely brilliant!

・One of your favourite places to go is the Godswood; the Weirwood tree seemed to hum; or so you thought.

・If Cregan cannot find you, he knows that's the one place in the castle to look first.

・Your relationship with Cregan became infinitely easier when you let your walls down.

・Opening up bit by bit, made him realise just how much you worry.

・And in turn, he too would tell you things no other were to hear.

・It strengthened your marriage.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Strong Feelings (Thinking It's Hate - WRONG It's Love)

The Gomez & Morticia Adams (absolutely obsessed with his wife)

"Think they'll try us?" x "Fuck I hope so."

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Bickering and Banter

Mutual Growth and Empowerment

Soulmates/Bonded Pair

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Wolves by Bruno Coulais

The Lone Wolf by Sagason

For the Dancing and the Dreaming by Erutan

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writing-fanics · 8 months

Text

Our Little Duckling

Lucifer Morningstar x F!Reader

[summary: unable to sleep Damien made his way to his father’s study and is treated to a story]

warning: fluff

a/n: you’re Charlie stepmom in this basically

Damien carefully opened, up the door to Lucifer’s study. His stuffed duck plushy dragging along behind him, rubbing his eyes tiredly. As he walked towards his father who sat at his desk his back turned.

Lucifer looked down at the child and smiled, reaching down to pick him up placing him on his lap. “I had a nightmare. I-It was really scary.” said Damien, hugging the stuffed animal close to his chest as he sat on his father’s lap.

Lucifer held the small child in his arms,“Your mother and I, will always be here to protect you.” said Lucifer, looking down at his child warmly. Damien looked up at him, “Always?” He asked, and the king of hell nodded and smiled, wrapping his arms around his son.

“Always.” He said, nuzzling his head against his gently. Lucifer then looked towards his desk, and with a wave of his hand. A gold wave like magic, emerging from the yellow diamond shaped object on his desk.

Damien’s eyes widened with joy, his mouth dropping open as he leaned into his father’s shoulder. His eye lit up with joy and wonder, seeing it take a shape of that of a duck with six wings. Sharing the dreams he had for heaven telling him stories of him and his wife, and that of his older sister Charlie.

Damien looked up at his dad in awe, smiling as he nuzzled his head into the crook of his neck. Lucifer smiling and hugging his child closely. Pulling back he bopped him on the nose causing the child to giggle. “Quack!” Damien exclaimed, and Lucifer looked at him. “Quack!” He mocked, and the two went back and forth making duck noises.

Damien’s eyes grew heavy and fell asleep, his head against his father’s chest. He looked down at him and scooped him up into his arms, his hand on his son’s back as he slept rubbing it gently as he stood up and summoned a portal.

Stepping into the portal, he walked towards the bed. Leaning down and carefully placing his son the bed. He smiled, as his eyes caught a glimpse of Charlie holding a baby Damien on the wall. Remembering how ecstatic, Charlie was when she found out that she was going to the a big sister.

How she burst into tears the moment she held, her baby brother for the first time. Crying even more when he revealed the middle name, Damien Charles Morningstar.

Damien curled up in his sleep, his tiny hands gripping the stuffed duck plush. with a smile on his face Lucifer, “Sweet dreams, my little duckling.” Lucifer whispered, as he leaned down tucking his son into bed, kissing the side of his forehead while brushing his [h/c] out of his face. He slowly backed away, and stepped through the portal.

Sitting back at his desk a figure walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around him and planting a kiss on his cheek. “You my love are an amazing father,” She said, planting another kiss on his cheek. She lifted her head, smiling at the framed photo of her,Damien, and Lucifer. Damien in particular wearing a duck onesie, a goofy smile on his face.

“Our little duckling,” She said, looking at the photo longingly smiling.

#Lucifer x reader #Lucifer Morningstar x you #Lucifer Morningstar x reader #Lucifer Morningstar x y/n #Hazbin Hotel x reader #fluff #romance #fanfic #x reader #hazbin hotel

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year

Note

oml hiiii, i rushed here immediately when i saw your requests are open ive been in love with the idea of maybe ghost having a teenage niece (his older brothers daughter) who he basically raised when he wasn't on duty but like none of the 141 knows about it because he keeps her a secret. He's basically her father at this point cause the rest of the family was murdered when she was only a baby. Anyways, you can do whatever you want with this prompt or not if you don't want to. But like I can totally just imagine Soap just seeing them in a Tescos and absolutely losing his shit when seeing a teenager swinging from his Lieutenants arm.

if you choose not to do this prompt that's completely fine!!! thank you!!!

—Sole Survivor

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞

When you were the only one to live, the sole survivor of that massacre, Simon knew he was in trouble.

He’d found you under the bed. The blood was still congealing over the wooden floors—whoever put you there, Tommy, his mother, Beth, or even his nephew, was all a mystery that no one would ever know the answer to. Yet, the larger question was how you, a baby, had managed to stay silent through it all.

Simon had picked you up with panicked breath and tears in his eyes as the sirens of the police had gotten closer, holding you to him as you blinked awake and yawned. The bodies of his family were strewn around the floor, broken and bent; murdered. But you. Little you.

Alive.

It would be best to leave you to be found by the authorities. To go somewhere far away from him and the future that was now stained into his soul—the pact of revenge and horror that would live through him like a brand. It was the right thing to do; the correct thing.

And then he remembers his mother’s eyes, and he’s already rushing to the back window while cradling your squirming body. The rest, of course, passed as the flow of time always did.

“I’m thinking we should have steak,” your voice pipes up as Simon grabs a bag of crisps from the shelf. Brown eyes blink down at you, balaclava tight to this face.

“You have steak money?” You were a teenager now, older and figuring life out one day at a time. He hadn’t told you the whole story, and he won’t until much later, but you know enough to a point that you were comfortable with.

You know your family loved you.

“You’re the one with the job,” he huffs at you as you utter under your breath.

“Exactly,” Simon grunts. “Eatin’ me out of house and home like I never feed you.”

“I,” you point a finger into the air, “am growing. Soon I’ll be just as tall as you, y’know that? I’ll be towering over everyone and giving them that same dead-eyed look that—” brown orbs level with you, unimpressed. You beam, punching his shoulder. “See! That one!”

“Fuckin’ piss off, would you?” Simon grumbles, moving down to the next aisle in his large and darkly-clothed glory. Your laugh trails after him, feet heavy on his heels. “Givin’ me a headache.”

You both walk around the Tesco, Simon getting strange looks while a beaming teenager walks beside him talking about supper, class, and anything in between. He offered short responses, sometimes sarcastic and sometimes serious—it depended, but the point was that he did answer you, no matter how pointless the conversation.

“I think I’m going to join a club this year,” you speak as you gaze at the items your Uncle puts in his basket. A gaze side-eyes you slowly.

“What, then?”

“I don’t know,” you hum, shoulder bumping into his arm and tilting your head. “Were you in any clubs?”

He grunts, shaking his head before a hand descends to your hair, ruffling it as you hiss in annoyance. “Never had time.” Simon hadn’t told you about his father or what he had done, and God help him if he ever uttered a word about it. That wasn’t something that mattered in your story, just his…he’d never place that weight on you willingly.

You frown as your uncle's arm loops your shoulders casually, keeping you to him as other people walk past you. Brown filters over posture and facial expressions—looking for the barest hint of ill-intent. When there’s nothing, and the forms move around you as easily as they had come, Simon’s attention leaves, and he continues on as if nothing had happened.

“Try Debate.” Your face turns to him, curious.

“Debate?” His eyes twinkle, and behind his face covering you immediately find the tell-tale twitch of a smirk.

“Argue so bloody well you could convince a rookie that a P890 can hold 10 rounds.”

You fight the shocked smile that pulls at your lips. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.” Eyes swirl, and a hand squeezes your arm; jostling you slightly.

“It’s a compliment.”

“You’ve always been shit at those.” You get a firm glare and a grunt from above.

“Fuckin’ language.” Your lips mock his response, making fun of him before he sends a flick of his thumb and forefinger into your temple.

“Hey!” Simon chuckles lowly, walking closer to the front of the store to get ready to pay as you mutter. “Jerk.”

It was a surprise though, that when you had barreled onto your Uncle’s back for an impromptu piggyback ride as payback—which the man didn’t even flinch at, already used to your antics—that the wide eyes of a man with a mohawk met yours. Your head is atop your Uncles, resting there as the lady at the front gives you strange looks from behind the register as Simon places the items in front of her.

He was gobsmacked, this stranger with his hair all done up like that, and your eyes blink at the display of tags around his neck that mirror your guardians. Broad, yet not so like Simon, and muscled, also, not as much as Simon.

“Unc?” You ask, and the man below you hums in question, pulling out notes from his wallet absentmindedly. “Who’s the guy with the mohawk?”

Simon tenses under you, fingers freezing.

“With the what?” It wasn’t really shocking that no one knew about you besides Price—and the only reason he knew was that in the event something happened to him, Simon had made the Captain swear that you would be taken care of.

Imagine his horror when his brown eyes darted up only to find them meeting the cobalt blues of his Sergeant, the Scot's hand outstretched to a box of pancake mix with a pack of Irn Bru in the other.

There’s an immediate sinking feeling in Simon’s chest when Johnny awkwardly tips his fingers in a shocked greeting—eyes flashing up to your curious face before he thins his lips and blinks.

You wave enthusiastically back.

“Oh, bloody fuckin’ hell.”

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allgoodnamesrgoneee · 2 months

Note

jude x famous!reader(or normal!reader) . Where him and and reader have been together since they were young (like 16/17) and she is really close jude family, like close with jobe and Denise. thank youuuuuu💕

Family

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Jude is late to your graduation but at least Denise and Jobe are there.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Jude Bellingham x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 3.0k

Warnings! FLUFF, sweetness, Denise is the mom, Jobe being his adorable self as usual, nervous reader, smart reader, graduation, A surprise at the end.

Your hands were shaking, breathing uneven as you stared at the sea of people in front of you. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, you were so nervous that you couldn't focus on anything else but your own fear and panic.

"Hey," a voice said, cutting through your anxious, spiraling thoughts. "Hey, look at me."

You look up to see Jobe in front of you. His eyes, the same warm brown as Jude's, were wide open as he stared at you, his hand reaching for your face. He cupped your cheeks, holding your gaze on his own. "Calm down," he told you softly. "Breathe. I'm here. Dad's here, Mom's here, Jude'll be here soon. You're going to kill it out there, I know you will."

You nodded, trying to breathe. You felt Denise's hands on your shoulders, her fingers digging into your skin as she rubbed them in a soothing way. "We're proud of you, sweetheart, so proud of you," she murmured as you tried to calm down.

Jobe leaned down and pressed his lips against your forehead, giving you a quick kiss before he pulled back. "I love you," he said softly.

You smiled, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. "I love you too," you said.

Denise pulled you in for a hug, holding you close as Jobe did the same. You hugged them both back, feeling your heart slow down. You were so grateful for them being here. Thankful to these people who had been your rock for the last four years.

You met Jude in high school, when you were sixteen, and he was seventeen. It was a rocky start, with you guys constantly arguing and trying to one up each other, but soon enough, you both found yourselves falling for one another. His family welcomed you with open arms, his mother and younger brother being especially nice to you.

Growing up in an orphanage, you didn't have anyone to rely on. And after you were kicked out at eighteen, all you had was them, and they took you in, welcoming you into their family like you had always been a part of it. Jude promised you that they would take care of you.

And he was right.

Denise, had always been like a mother to you. She was the one who helped you with your hair before a date, who cooked you meals when you were sick, and who would listen to you vent about Jude. She was there when you got your first job. There when you felt like the world was crumbling around you. Always offering a shoulder to cry on. She loved you like you were her own. The daughter she always wanted.

Mark had taken his role as your sole father figure. He wasn't the kind of man to shower you with affection through words, but his actions spoke volumes. He'd silently slip money into your wallet when he knew you were struggling, or stay up late to help you study for an exam. He was the one who'd taught you to change a tire, who'd cheered the loudest at your high school graduation. When you doubted yourself, he'd remind you of your strength with a simple nod, as if to say, "You got this."

Jobe, on the other hand, had become the brother you never had. He was fifteen when you met, the sweetest boy. You'd always been like an older sister to him, looking out for him whenever you could and being there for him when he needed someone. Him too. He was always there with a joke to lift your spirits. Listened to you when you needed to talk. And was fiercely protective. Your true partner in crime.

And then there was Jude.

Your soul mate. Your first everything. The person you fell in love with. Your forever. Your best friend. You guys were inseparable, from the day you met. He had been your rock for the last four years. Your guiding light. He made your life better, made you better.

He had seen you at your best and at your worst, and loved you through it all. He was the one who held you close on sleepless nights, whispering words of comfort and love. He was the one who believed in you, even when you didn't believe in yourself. He was your rock, your anchor, the love of your life.

Now, after four years together, Jude was still your boyfriend, and his parents and brother were like family to you.

And they'd come to support you at the biggest moment.

You had just finished your last year of college, graduating with honors at the age of twenty. A year early. You were still freaking out over the fact that you had gotten out of college a year early. And now you were here, ready to accept the award as valedictorian and give a speech.

It was a huge honor and a dream come true, and you were so lucky that the people you loved were there to watch it happen. But you were scared. Terrified that you would mess up, say something stupid, fall on your ass on stage. That everyone would hate your speech and think you didn't deserve to be there.

But Mark, Denise and Jobe were here for you. And soon so would Jude.

You pulled away from Denise and Jobe, taking a deep breath. "When did Jude say he was going to get here again?" You asked.

"He said he'd be here an hour ago, but that he might be late," Jobe replied.

You nodded, feeling a sense of disappointment. You'd really wanted Jude to be here to see you walk on stage, but whatever he's doing must be important. So you couldn't be mad at him for it. He has never let you down since you've known him and you knew he wouldn't let you down now.

"Okay," you said.

A voice cut through the noise backstage, someone telling you it was time to go on stage. "Oh my god," you breathed, your nerves coming back again.

Denise reached out and took your hand, pulling you in for a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. "We'll be out there in the front row," she said. "Go get them, baby."

You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. Your mouth was dry and your hands were sweaty. You felt like you were going to puke at any moment.

You force out a smile. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice hoarse from the lump in your throat. "I love you both."

"We love you too, honey," Denise said.

Jobe gave you a thumbs up. "Kick ass out there," he said as you hugged them both again before they left.

"You can do this Y/N." you mutter to yourself. You took a few deep breaths, trying to get your nerves under control. You had a few more minutes to spare before you went out there so you took the opportunity to calm yourself down.

You did this, you reminded yourself. You'd done the hard work, and this was your reward. You deserved to be here.

You thought back to when you first walked into the university four years ago. You'd been scared and unsure if you belonged, but you knew that you wanted to make something of your life. And you were here now, standing backstage with a degree secured. You'd made it. You'd actually done it.

A loud voice cut through your thoughts and you looked up to see one of the event planners standing next to you. "Ready?" she asked.

You nodded, letting out a breath as she gestured for you to walk out on stage. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your palms were sweating. You felt dizzy. This was it, the moment of truth.

The crowd was quiet as you stepped out, a smile on your face, your eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face. And then you saw them.

Denise, Mark, Jobe and Jude were sitting in the front row. Jobe and Mark were smiling at you, beaming with pride. They both held signs saying 'Congratulations' and 'We're so proud of you'. Denise was crying, her eyes red rimmed.

Jude was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes shining with pride. He was wearing a button down shirt and dress pants, looking handsome. You smiled back at him, feeling your heart swell with love for this man.

He mouthed the words 'I love you' and you mouthed them back.

The announcer spoke your name and you walked up the steps to receive your award. You took it with shaking hands, mouthing 'thank you' to the presenter.

You moved the microphone to stand in front of the crowd. You were used to public speaking, and had practiced your speech countless times, but you were still nervous.

"Thank you," you said, trying to control your breath. "Thank you to everyone here today. To my classmates, my professors, and my family."

You glanced at Jude, Denise and Mark. "Without them I wouldn't be here," you said. "I want to thank them for their unwavering support and love. Without them I'd be lost." You paused, trying not to cry.

"To the class of 2024 who are graduating," you continued. "We made it. Congratulations to all of us for getting through these four years. And for those who didn't make it, who failed a class or two, who had to retake an exam. For those who are struggling, for those who are feeling lost."

You took a breath, looking at Jude who was smiling at you, his eyes warm. "It's okay to be lost," you said. "To fail. To struggle. It's okay not to have your shit together. Because you will get through this, I promise. Most of you may not know me personally, but if there's one thing I've learned in these past four years, it's that the journey is just as important as the destination. Every setback, every tear, every moment of doubt has shaped us into who we are today. We've faced challenges head-on, and we've come out stronger on the other side."

You paused, allowing the words to sink in, feeling the weight of their truth. The audience was silent, hanging on to your every word.

"I stand here today not just as a graduate, but as someone who has learned to embrace the unknown. To those who are scared of what's next, who feel the pressure of expectations weighing them down, know that it's okay to take your time. It's okay to find your own path, even if it's different from what you planned. Life is full of surprises, and sometimes the best things come from the unexpected."

Your eyes swept the crowd, meeting Jude's gaze once more. He winks at you making you smile.

"We've all had people who supported us, who believed in us when we didn't believe in ourselves. For me, that has been my family—Denise, Mark, Jobe, and Jude. They have been my rock, my anchor, and my greatest cheerleaders. To them, I owe everything."

You took a deep breath, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. "And to Jude, my love, my best friend, thank you for standing by me through everything. Your belief in me has been my strength, and your love has been my guide. I am so grateful for you."

A tear slid down your cheek, but you smiled through it.

"As we go forward from here, let's carry with us the lessons we've learned, the friendships we've made, and the memories we've created. Let's be kind to ourselves and to others. Let's chase our dreams with passion and perseverance. And let's never forget that we are capable of more than we ever imagined."

The crowd erupted in applause as you held up your diploma, bursting with joy. Happy that you were done with your speech and that it hadn't gone that bad.

Looking to the crowd again, you saw that Jude was missing from his seat. You frowned, wondering what was going on. Before you could think too much about it, the crowd's applause shifted into cheers, looking at the other side of the stage. You followed their gaze and felt your heart skip a beat.

There he was, walking towards you with a determined yet nervous look on his face. Jude Bellingham.

You could hear the murmurs of astonishement all around you wondering what Jude Bellingham was doing at a college graduation.

"Jude?" You whispered, unable to form words.

You felt the heat of his hand on your back as he moved to stand next to you, silently handing you the bouquet. You were so stunned that you forgot where you were, until you heard the laughter and the gasps of the crowd. You turned to see the Dean and everyone else staring at you, their faces shocked and confused.

"Oh my god," you whispered, feeling your face burn red with embarrassment. But before you could ask what he was doing he took the microphone from the announcer, his hands trembling slightly, cleared his throat and turn his face towards the crowd.

"Sorry for the interruption everyone," his voice was shaky, uncertain. "But I've been waiting for a moment to ask this question for years. And there's no better time than now." What is going on? you thought to yourself.

He looked at you, his eyes pouring out nervousness, and took a deep breath before speaking. "Y/N," he began, his deep voice echoing through the auditorium. "From the moment I met you," he continued. "I knew you were special. That you were meant to be mine." Tears were streaming down your face at this point. Your hands covering your mouth, unable to believe what was happening. You were going to die from happiness.

The audience fell silent, hanging on his every word. Jude continued, his voice steadying as he spoke from his heart. "And over the past four years, I've fallen more and more in love with you, every single day. You've challenged me, supported me, and loved me in ways I never thought possible."

He paused, taking a step closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I had a better speech prepared, but standing here, all I can think about is how much I love you and how I want to spend the rest of my life with you." The crowd gasped, and you felt your heart race, your breath catching in your throat.

He dropped to his knees and you almost passed out. Is he doing what you think he is doing? Oh god, please be real.

"Y/N," he said, his voice trembling with emotion, "Will you marry me?" He held out a small black box, his eyes shining with tears. "I love you," he said, his voice cracking.

Tears were streaming down your face at this point and you could hardly breathe. Looking out into the crowd you spotted Denise and Jobe crying. Mark was grinning from ear to ear.

The crowd's reaction faded into the background as you stared at Jude, his eyes full of hope and love. You looked at the diamond ring in his hand, at the way it sparkled in the light. At the man who'd become your soul mate.

You didn't hesitate. With a sob, you nodded, tears streaming down your face as he slid the ring onto your finger. He stood up, pulling you into his arms as you wrapped your hands around his neck, holding him close.

This couldn't be real, you thought. There was no way this was real. You were dreaming. You had to be.

And then you felt it. The cool metal on your finger, fitting perfectly as if it had been made for you. It was. You looked down at it, seeing the diamond ring sparkle in the light. You gasped, tears streaming down your face.

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause again, but all you could focus on was the man in front of you. The world seemed to blur, and it felt like it was just you and Jude in that moment. You clung to him, your heart pounding with disbelief.

"I can't believe this," you whispered into his ear, your voice trembling. "Is this really happening?"

Jude pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands. "Yes," he said softly, his forehead resting against yours. "This is real. We’re real."

"I love you so much," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the commotion around you. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you gazed into Jude's soft brown eyes, melting with love for you.

"I love you too, Y/N," Jude whispered back. He kissed your forehead gently, squeezing you tighter agaisnt his body leaving no space between you two. "I've been waiting to do this for so long."

You chuckled softly through your tears, overwhelmed by the surrealness of the proposal. "I can't believe you did this, When did you plan this?" you managed to say, still in disbelief as you looked down at the ring on your finger.

But you knew that it was real, that this was happening. Because he had done it in the most Jude Bellingham way possible, proposing to you in front of everyone in the world. You could feel the cameras on, you hear the clicks.

This would be all over the news.

Jude pulled back slightly, a smile on his face. "A couple months ago," he said sheepishly. "I wanted to surprise you,"

"Oh my god, you did," you laughed through your tears. You leaned into him, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in.

"I can't wait for you to be my wife," Jude whispered, his warm breath against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You looked up at him, leaning closer so your lips were brushing. "I can't wait either," you whispered back before pressing your lips against his in a sweet, tender kiss.

-Bianca🌻

#footballer x reader #football #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude x reader #jude x you #jb5 #bellingham

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