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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 6 months ago

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Come Find Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader

I am back back back again! I have missed writing so much, I just don't have nearly the amount of time that I used to. But I'm in my last semester of school! So hopefully I'll be back on a consistent fanfic grind once I'm done :) PS: If you know what the title is referencing, you get a big hug from me.

Word Count: 13,439

Warnings: blood, talk of violence, reader injury

Bucky checked his texts every few minutes. Initially, he lied to himself about the reason behind it. He told himself he must’ve opened his conversation with you accidentally, or that he mistook an email notification for a text from you. Simple, innocent mistakes.

Either way, he always ended up staring at your side of the conversation, hoping for a gray ellipsis to appear.

But after a while, he could no longer deny the truth- and why would he want to? You were coming home.

You hadn’t been gone long, and your mission was projected to be a cake walk. But he couldn’t help it; he missed you. He missed you when you went on missions, when you visited your parents out of state, when you slept in your room down the hall. Missing you was part of him now, woven into the fabric of his being. It matched the material of his soul perfectly, like he was always meant to feel this way.

He fired off a quick “let me know when you land” message and waited, hoping you’d write back soon.

Usually, you texted him when you were headed back to the compound. It gave him a countdown to your return and something to look forward to. It also signaled to him that you were, in fact, coming home alive. Even if a bit banged up, you were well enough to shoot him a message. And that always eased his worries.

Today, however, was different. No text, no call.

It struck him as bizarre and sounded Bucky’s internal alarms. But he silenced them as best he could. He wasn’t going to let himself get worked up, not when you had a perfectly good reason for not messaging him.

This was your first time leading a mission with a new recruit under your wing. Bucky knew you devoted your full attention to your trainee, giving him absolutely everything you had. You took this position- as well as your pupil’s safety and success- very seriously. He knew you were probably busy helping your recruit learn a swath of new things, and who was he to interrupt?

Bucky opened the log and saw your jet had been marked as ‘incoming’ only minutes ago. A sigh of relief left his chest and eased his muscles. Sure, he would’ve rather heard that information from you, but it didn’t matter. Your jet would be here soon; he had no reason to worry.

The moment he saw that your jet was homeward bound, he lost the ability to think about anything else. He counted the minutes, the seconds. You had to be close, right? The log wouldn’t have said ‘Incoming’ if you were still hours away.

To pass the time, he folded laundry, answered emails, reread a few chapters of The Hobbit- but he couldn’t focus. He thought of you, only you. And no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he couldn’t hang around his room any longer. He couldn’t stand it. He needed to be there when the jet landed. He needed to meet you on the steps of the aircraft and wrap you in a bear hug.

And there was no real harm in waiting near the hangar, was there? ‘If anything,’ he told himself, ‘It’s actually more convenient for her if I meet her there. That way, I can carry her bag- she’s probably tired.’

Anything to rationalize his desperate need to be near you.

He knew in his heart of hearts that you didn’t need him to carry your bag or help you off the jet. But this lie was all the convincing he needed. Without hesitation, he ditched his room and set off down the hall, your impending homecoming pulling him forward.

It was in that moment he noticed just how far the elevator was from his room. The walk seemed to stretch on and on, the hallway growing longer with each step. And how had he never noticed how slowly the elevator moved? It slid downward at a glacial pace, toying with his patience. For such an expensive, state of the art building, the elevator moved like an ancient piece of turn of the century machinery. Bucky cursed Tony’s engineering.

Everything seemed to add time, multiplying his moments without you. The universe liked toying with him, teasing him. And this was just another cruel joke.

The moment the doors opened, Bucky sprang free out into the hallway. He knocked into Clint and his group of trainees and called an apology over his shoulder without stopping. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t waste time- not when you could arrive at any moment.

His field of view narrowed into tunnel vision, only allowing for visualization of the path toward the hangar. He didn’t greet his fellow team members or allow for distraction. You were his one-track mind. That is, until something stopped him.

“Shit, sorry, man,” your trainee, Jake, laughed as he bumped into Bucky. He took a step to the side and attempted to continue down the hall, but Bucky blocked his path.

“Jake?” Bucky eyed a bloody gash on Jake’s eyebrow, “when did you guys get back?”

Jake gave a casual shrug and checked his phone, “I don’t know, five minutes ago?”

“Oh, okay…” Bucky reached for his phone, but found his screen void of notifications. If you landed five minutes ago with your trainee safe and sound, why didn’t you send him a message? It was out of character for you.

“Well, where’s your partner in crime? Or crime fighting, I guess,” Bucky tried to joke, but his tone was strained. He eyed each person who came around the corner, hoping to find your face. “Did you see which way she went?”

“Nah, she’s not here,” Jake was scrolling through Instagram, only half paying attention.

Bucky’s disappointed sigh left his chest deflated, empty. “Oh, did she say where she was going? Or when she’d be back?”

Jake pulled his focus from his phone and stared at Bucky with confusion on his face. His brows pulled together, his mouth hung slightly ajar. But finally, he made sense of Bucky’s words. “OHHH, okay, my bad- I think there was a miscommunication just now.”

Bucky sighed again- this time, with relief.

“Yeah, no, she’s not here,” Jake continued, “because she didn’t make it back.”

Bucky’s ears started ringing.

The sharp, piercing sound blocked out voices. Footsteps on the tile. Maybe Jake was trying to speak to him, but Bucky heard only the shrill sound of shock. Seconds later, his nerves fell numb. The utter absence of sensation disconnected him from his body. He was lost in a liminal atmosphere with no stability, no purchase. His entire being was shutting down, one sense at a time.

Bucky told himself to focus, to compute what he’d heard. He did his best to make sense of Jake’s words, but to no avail. His mind simply couldn’t understand the phrase “she didn’t make it back”. The words had shed their meaning entirely and sounded foreign to Bucky as they rattled around his skull. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin, and a cold sweat created a sheen across his face. He feared he might get sick.

“I- I’m sorry,” he forced himself back into his body, back to the present. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Things got pretty hairy- this was not the easy mission they said it would be,” Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not fair, I definitely got a way harder assignment for my first mission than all the other new agents, and I think it’s-”

Bucky’s glare could’ve sliced Jake in half, “get to the point.”

“Right, um,” Jake continued, “I told her over comms that I was leaving. I gave her plenty of time to meet me at the jet, but she didn’t answer. And she never came outside.” He shrugged, “I had to leave for my own safety.”

“So, you just-” Bucky felt himself losing his grip. “You left her there? Alone?” He didn’t realize he was shouting, didn’t realize he’d drawn attention to himself- until Agent Hill showed up.

She placed a light hand on Bucky’s tense shoulder, but instantly withdrew. He was shaking, practically vibrating under her palm. “Is there a problem here, guys? I don’t want-”

“He left her behind,” was all Bucky could manage.

Maria stared at Jake in disbelief, “you did what?”

A strange mixture of rage and heartbreak seethed behind Bucky’s eyes, “You don’t just abandon your partner-”

Jake’s attitude disgusted Bucky. He was detached, irritated. He rolled his eyes like an insolent child. “Relax, man. Jesus Christ, this isn’t the army. I didn’t promise to ‘leave no man behind’ or whatever-”

Bucky had heard enough. He lifted jake by the collar of his shirt, twisting the material in his metal fist. Jake’s head sent a sickening thud resounding through the space as Bucky forced him against the nearest wall.

“What the fuck?” Jake squirmed in Bucky’s grasp, “There are casualties in the field all the time, why am I being punished for-”

Bucky released Jake at once, sending him crashing to the floor.

His voice was quiet, hollow. “Casualties?” He swallowed hard, “Is she-”

Jake shrugged at he rubbed at the bruise forming on his neck. “I don’t know, I assume so. I didn’t stick around to find out.”

And just like that, Bucky was gone.

He took off down the hall, forcing himself forward as a soul-crushing panic swallowed him whole. No matter how many times he blinked, no matter how fervently he shook his head, he couldn’t rid his mind of the picture Jake painted for him. Each time he shut his eyes he saw you- alone. Your bloodied, broken body laying collapsed against a wall of a Hydra base. Your skin slick with blood. Your skin cold. Void of life.

He moved quickly, but not quick enough. He simply couldn’t outrun the familiar feeling closing in on him. His heavy, well-worn cloak of grief wound its way across his shoulders and twisted itself around his neck. He knew the suffocating sensation all too well. It weighed him down but couldn’t dampen his pace, nothing could; not when your life hung in the balance.

He was too well acquainted with loss by now, too familiar with mourning. There’d been a time when he wondered if he’d ever grieve again. He’d lost his family, his friends, himself- what else was there? What more could he possibly lose? But the moment he met you, he knew he’d one day mourn again. He just didn’t realize that time would come so soon.

A startling cold prickled at his skin, his lungs refused to inflate. How much time did you have left? How long would it take him to get to you? Were you even-

Hill’s voice yanked him out of his spiral, “Barnes, hey-” She made a grab at his shoulder, but her feeble attempt was no match for Bucky’s pace. “Where are you going?”

“To get her back.” Bucky’s tone was firm, resolute. He was going to bring you home or die trying.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hill nearly tripped over her own feet as she tried to keep up with Bucky’s long strides. “You heard what Jake said, it’s a dangerous location- more dangerous than we thought. I think it might be best to wait it out for a few days, let things calm down and then-”

Bucky turned suddenly, stopping Maria in her tracks. “I’m not just going to leave her there.”

Maria shrunk away from the fierceness in his eyes, “I know you’re upset, but she might not be-”

“I don’t care.” His gruff tone dissolved, making way for the fear he’d so desperately tried to hide. “Whether she’s alive or-” he couldn’t bring himself to voice the alternative.

Bucky knew what it was like to be assumed dead. He knew what it was like to be left in the field.

“She deserves to come home,” he said.

Maria couldn’t argue with him.

“Round up as many members of the med team as you can and have them meet me in the hangar. We’re leaving in ten minutes- sooner if we can.” Bucky turned and resumed his previous path, “I’ll be in the armory.”

Bucky grabbed as much weaponry as his duffel would carry without splitting at the seams and made his way to the hangar. He hoped to find ten, maybe fifteen members of the medical team waiting for him on the jet. He wasn’t sure of your condition, didn’t know how many breaths you had left. He wanted to give you the best possible chance at surviving the onslaught you endured.

But when he turned the corner into the hangar, he found only three scrub-clad bodies.

“Is this it?” Bucky boarded the jet and dropped his bag to the floor. He eyed the scant amount of medical support, their uncertain expressions. His hopes of bringing you home alive dwindled.

A nurse who’d stitched Bucky up more times than he could count gave him a nervous smile. “The med bay is swamped, the team could barely afford to let us come with you.”

Bucky didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want excuses or rationalizations. All he wanted was to bring you home with your heart still beating. And three medical professionals, he decided, was better than none.

The flight to your location only gave Bucky more time to worry. He obsessively checked his weaponry, hovered over the med team’s supplies. But no amount of double and triple checking could save him from the spiral. He traveled down the path of every possible “what if?”, leading him only to heartache. No matter where he searched, he couldn’t find a positive outcome. And though he didn’t want to acknowledge the odds, he knew yours were slim- impossible, even.

And as the jet grew closer to your location, Bucky steeled himself for what he knew he’d find: you, his best friend, his reason for living, his everything- dead. Cold. Lifeless. None of the horrors he faced in the past could compare; no pain could ever be greater. Bucky knew he’d hurt for the rest of his life.

The clouds parted as the jet began its descent. Slowly, a large stone building appeared out of the fog like a monster in the horror movies you loved so much. It stood in an otherwise empty clearing, its shadow looming over the dying grass. Smoke billowed from holes in the roof, the walls. Whatever happened here was catastrophic. Disastrous.

Bucky’s heart sat lodged in his throat as he imagined you trapped in there. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin as he stared at the looming structure. He had to get you out, even if he died trying.

Just before the jet touched down, an idea popped into Bucky’s head. It scaled the high walls he’d tried to erect to protect himself from thoughts of your demise and grabbed him by the throat. It was smart- brilliant, actually. He was shocked he could even think straight given the circumstances.

“FRIDAY,” Bucky called out, “is comm 1209 working?” He shoved his own comm in his ear and waited for a response.

“Comm 1209 is on and in range,” Friday said. “Would you like me to connect you?”

He couldn’t say yes fast enough.

A few staticky clicks and pops vibrated against Bucky’s eardrum as his comm connected to yours. But he was too scared to speak. What if you didn’t answer? What if he heard you take your dying breaths? Just the thought was enough to make him sick.

He owed it to you, though, to at least try. He’d always said he’d do anything for you, that he’d risk it all for you- and he meant it every time. If reaching out to you over comms exposed him to something horrible, something traumatic and unforgettable, at least he tried. At least he attempted to keep his promise. And after everything he’d been through, what was one more life-shattering, soul-crushing nightmare?

“H- um…” Bucky swallowed the large lump obstructing his throat. “Hello?” He waited a moment, holding his breath the entire time, and tried again. “Hello?”

He waited.

No response.

“Doll? It’s me. It’s Bucky…”

The dead silence on the other end of the line dragged on. It seemed like his words disappeared into the air, unacknowledged. Unheard. Maybe the sound of his voice was reverberating inside your ear as you lay dying. Or maybe he was talking to your corpse.

The thought made him nauseous.

“Please, sweetheart. If you’re there- if you’re able- just say one word. Say anything,” he pled. A long bout of silence followed.

He clenched and released his metal fist again and again, desperate to rid himself of the panic settling into his bones. He was stupid to think you survived, stupid to let himself be optimistic. He made it here as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t save you. He was too late.

He wanted to take one of his many weapons and turn it on himself.

But a small sound stopped him.

“Buck…”

He almost fell to his knees. At the sound of your voice, an overwhelming warmth banished the cold that infiltrated his bones. Against all odds, you were alive.

A deep sigh of relief seeped from Bucky’s lungs, “Sweetheart…”

A hurricane of emotion rattled against the storm doors inside Bucky’s mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the ‘almosts’. How he almost lost you, how you almost died alone in a Hydra base. But he couldn’t allow it to swallow him- not yet. There was no time for a breakdown. He needed to move, he needed to get to you.

He shrugged off the grief that rested heavy on his shoulders and swallowed the impending sob that vibrated inside his throat. “I’m here- I’m gonna come get you. Just tell me where-”

A staunch refusal came from your end of the comm, “No- no…” You took a sharp, rattling breath, “no way.”

Bucky didn’t like the way you had to fight to get your words out. You were clearly struggling, doing everything in your power to stay on this side of consciousness. He wondered how much time you had left.

But still, there was a familiar strength to your voice. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the renewed hope of rescue; something was keeping you alive.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just tell me where you are. The jet just landed. I’m gonna get you out and-”

“I said- I said no,” you breathed. “You can’t c-come in here, it’s too dangerous… we were a-ambushed.”

Even in your condition, even when Bucky was your only hope of rescue, his safety was your first thought. You’d rather die alone than put Bucky’s life at risk; the thought made his cheeks pink and filled his chest with a fuzzy warmth. But he didn’t have time to enjoy the feeling.

“If you don’t tell me where you are, I’ll just sweep the whole building,” Bucky said, using your worry against you. “That means more opportunities for me to run into Hydra operatives. More time inside the base- it’ll be way more dangerous.” He could practically see you rolling your eyes, “so it’s probably better if you just give me a direct route, don’t you think?”

Bucky smiled to himself as he envisioned you on the other end. He was certain you were arguing with yourself, cursing his rationale.

He waited for you to come at him with a sharp retort or a sarcastic quip but heard nothing. The silence on your end of the line dragged on. And on. It lasted far too long for Bucky’s comfort. Surely, you couldn’t still be thinking about his proposition? He’d given you more than enough time to make up your mind, more than enough time to come up with a response. It was time you didn’t have.

What if you’d fallen unconscious? What if, in those quiet moments, your soul vacated this earth?

Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. He disembarked the jet, resolving to search every inch of the base. But just as he reached the dark, unsettling building, you spoke.

“F-fifteenth floor. Northeast… northeast quadrant,” you sighed, defeated. “There’s a- a room at the end of this hall, I think it’s maybe an office?” Again, you took a long pause. The energy required to think, to speak, was energy you didn’t have. “Just f-follow the trail of blood.”

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. He shuddered at the thought of your blood leaving a path down the stark white, sterile hallways of the base. But he didn’t have time to focus on anything other than getting you out; this was a rescue. He owed it to you to keep his head level. To focus on getting you out as quickly as he could.

“The power is… it’s out”, you said. “You’re gonna h-have to take-”

Bucky wanted to save you from wasting any extra energy, “The stairs. Got it.”

And while he normally didn’t mind getting a few extra steps in, he knew the time required to climb fifteen flights of stairs would push the limits of your survival.

But he pushed the ever-encroaching sense of doom to the side and put on a brave face for you. For himself. “Okay, I’m coming to get you,” he promised. “Stay awake, and don’t move.”

“As if I h-have a choice,” you laughed a breathy, hollow laugh. A long groan followed.

Your pain radiated through Bucky’s chest. He didn’t want to climb stairs or scour hallways- he just wanted to be there. To instantly materialize at your side. To bring you instantaneous comfort. He lamented the super soldier serum’s lack of teleportation abilities.

“You know what I mean, doll. Just stay awake, okay?” Bucky drew his gun and stepped inside the building. “Don’t fall asleep. Do anything you have to do- just stay awake. Can you keep talking until I get there?”

“W-what am I…” You let out a raspy exhale, “supposed to talk about?”

Bucky cleared a long hallway and found the stairwell, “Anything, just keep talking.”

Another extended silence filled the air; it nearly drove Bucky crazy. Your silences held limitless possibilities, horrifying ‘what ifs’.

“It w-wasn’t supposed to be… to be like this,” you finally said. “It wasn’t supposed to be this dangerous. This was Jake’s first mission- it wasn’t f-fair to him.” Heartache coated your every word. Even after your partner abandoned you, even after Jake forced you to suffer and bleed all alone- you still sympathized with him. Still felt sorry for him.

Bucky felt no such thing.

“I know, doll. Keep talking, okay?”

You sighed. “We s-split up for recon… that’s when they- when they came at me.” Your next few breaths were so shallow, your lungs barely inflated; the lack of oxygen left you dizzy. A thin veil of glittering spots sparkled and danced on the edges of your periphery. “It all h-happened so fast… there were so many of them. I just- I remember pain. And I hoped Jake was okay, w-wherever he was.”

Your heart was too good for this job. For people like Jake. Bucky admired your kindness, your empathy, your selfless nature. Even in the face of pain, of death- you thought about others. You often told Bucky how unfair life had been to him, lamenting his treatment at the hands of fate. Bucky found himself doing the same for you and your kind heart.

“I called out for h-him, I needed backup… I kept asking him to come help me-” A sharp cough rattled out of your throat.

Bucky cringed at the sound. It was the only sound in the building. He hadn’t heard anyone else. Hadn’t seen one Hydra operative- at least, not a live one. He came across their bodies every now and again but didn’t see a single living soul. He was sure they deserted after the explosion. Just like Jake.

The destruction, however, was everywhere. Bullet casings littered the floor. Blood stained the tile floors. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. He had to get you out of here.

“But he n-never answered. And then he told me he was leaving. He said he was- he was outside already. He gave me n-ninety seconds to meet him at the jet…” Your words were tinged with devastation, with hopelessness, with betrayal. “I tried- I did my best to make it down the stairs. But I was- I was dizzy… I was b-bleeding.” The memory stung like your fresh wounds. “I kept slipping on- on my own blood. I just c-couldn’t move fast enough. It hurt too much.”

Wrath burned inside Bucky like a raging forest fire. But his utter heartbreak doused it completely, extinguishing the rageful flames. He found himself unable to think, to breathe. It took everything in him to keep moving forward. Who could ever leave you behind like that? Who could ignore your suffering and sentence you to death without a second thought? The image of you stumbling, struggling to run for your life gutted him.

“And then- and then I heard the jet t-take off,” you sighed. “And I listened as it got farther and farther away… until it was g-gone. And I was- I was alone.”

He thought of you sitting alone in cold silence as the noise from the jet quieted. As your hope dwindled. The entire base must’ve felt like a tomb, like a massive, lonely grave meant just for you.

Bucky almost fell to his knees. Sobs throttled the inside of his chest, begging for release. Tears burned inside his lash line. Jake didn’t just leave you behind, he marooned you without care. And in his departure, he sealed your fate.

“I d-didn’t have a way to call for… for help. My phone was on the j-jet with jake.”

The sorrow that stained your words was all too familiar to Bucky. It was the same hopelessness that accompanied him every day that he was at Hydra. When he laid in the snow for hours upon hours after falling from the train. He never wished that kind of despondency, that kind of misery on anyone. And knowing that you, the person who deserved it the least, experienced it for even a moment shattered him.

“I realized I… I didn’t h-have any options,” you breathed.

A collapsed column blocked Bucky’s path as he tried to make his way from the sixth floor to the seventh. The concrete was too high, too precarious to scale. If he tried to climb it and got hurt, it would only serve to diminish your chances of survival. And he wasn’t willing to risk that. With a huff, Bucky exited the northwest stairwell in search of another route. This was a waste of time- time you didn’t have.

He painstakingly checked every hall until he finally found another stairwell. His breathing came a little easier as he rocketed his way up the stairs, growing ever closer to you.

“So, I found this- this room. It’s quiet. It’s out of the w-way. I needed somewhere to hide. S-somewhere to…” A small crack of emotion cut through your voice, “somewhere to die.”

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Jake got to return home safe and sound while you struggled to stay alive. It wasn’t fair that you had to seek out your own deathbed. Bucky wanted to scream, to break things, to spill every last drop of Jake’s blood. But he was a soldier, and this was a rescue mission.

“This seemed like as g-good a place as any,” you choked on a weak laugh. “Beats dying in the middle of a h-hallway, I guess.”

Bucky’s automatic response was to swear that you’d make it out. To promise that you weren’t going to die. But he bit his tongue. He couldn’t make those kinds of assurances. He’d do anything to bring you comfort but swearing that you’d return home alive seemed almost cruel.

He pushed himself to move faster. He couldn’t let you die alone, especially not in this godforsaken place. As he sprinted up the last flight of stairs and ripped open the door to the fifteenth floor, he struggled to orient himself. You were in the northeast quadrant, but where was he? He searched for anything to indicate his location- but found no signage. No directory.

Everything inside of him rattled with dread, with anxiety. Any moment now, you were going to die. You were going to take your last breath. All alone. A thick, suffocating wave of panic crashed over Bucky as he realized- you were going to die disappointed. You were going to leave this world knowing that he hadn’t gotten to you in time.

It was then that he noticed a faded arrow painted on the wall, with “NEQ” painted below it in block letters. Northeast quadrant. He was closer than he thought.

“I’m gonna be there in just a second, doll,” he said as he followed the arrows. “I think I’m right around the corner.”

This was just his way of making you feel better, you were sure of it. The hallways were long and winding. Each floor was a maze of its own. Even with your vague instructions, it could take him a while to find you. Still, Bucky’s words brought you comfort in the way that only he could.

“I know, I t-trust…” A metallic taste filled your mouth. A warm ooze trickled down your chin and dripped onto your chest. The warm, fuzzy feeling brought on by Bucky’s assurances faded. Of course, you knew you were in bad shape. But as blood leaked from your mouth, you wondered if these were your last moments.

Instantly, you searched for the words to say goodbye to Bucky. Time was slipping through your fingers, life draining from your body with each passing second. But before you drifted off into a never-ending sleep, you had to tell Bucky what he meant to you. You’d use all your strength, your last few breaths- whatever it took. He just had to know.

But how does one say goodbye to a soulmate? You didn’t have the energy or capacity to make a grandiose speech. And the blood filling your mouth impeded your ability to speak. You wanted to tell bucky everything- how he comforted you, cared for you, made your life worth living. How your life revolved around him as though he were your personal sun. But nothing quite encapsulated the things you felt for him. Every word in the English language, every sonnet fell short. And the lack of oxygen getting to your brain sabotaged your phrasing.

“Buck, I think it’s… I think it’s almost t-time,” you rasped.

But just as you opened your blood-stained mouth to proclaim every feeling you ever had for him, the door flew open. Alarm coursed through your veins at the threat. Surely, a Hydra agent had stumbled upon your hiding place and was here to finish you off. The severe blood loss was no match for your training, thought. And, on instinct, you pulled your gun on the tall, dark silhouette standing in the doorway.

“Woah, hey!” Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “It’s me, it’s just me.”

At the sound of his voice, your arm fell limp. Your gun clattered to the floor. Your head lolled back against the wall. It had taken everything in you to try and protect yourself one last time. And now that your energy reserves were nearly depleted, you allowed your eyes to close.

“S-sorry…” A barely-there smile pulled at your lips. “My… my bad, Buck.”

“No, don’t be sorry, doll.”

Bucky knelt in front of you, taking in your broken, bloodied body. He’d seen carnage before, witnessed more death than anyone should. But this, you- it was different. It hurt in places he didn’t know he had. But he didn’t let it show. Knowing you, you’d spend your last few moments comforting him, trying to make him feel better. And so, he forced a warm smile and tabled his breakdown for the moment.

“I’m actually impressed. I mean, you might be hurt, but you were ready to take me out just now,” he forced a chuckle. “That’s my girl.” His cool metallic hand brushed against your blood-stained cheek.

And in that moment, something within you changed. Your eyes shot open. You blinked a few times before forcing your eyes shut once again. You gave your head a few good shakes. Surely, this wasn’t real- it couldn’t be.

You opened your eyes wide once again, taking him in. “Bucky?”

With one shaking hand, you reached for him in the most pathetic attempt he’d ever seen. You were weak, dangerously so; it scared him to his core. But you were alive.

He leaned in, meeting you in the middle, and let you stroke at his stubble for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he kissed your palm. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“You’re…” you other hand reached for him, but made it only a centimeter or two before falling into your lap. Bucky opted to take it in his. “You’re here?”

He nodded, “I could never leave you behind, sweetheart.”

He may have continued speaking after that, but you didn’t quite hear him. The emotion you’d tried so hard to swallow came bursting forward, crushing your every attempt at remaining levelheaded. Your fingers smoothed over Bucky’s cheek again and again. His name fell from your lips in what resembled a prayer. Tears rolled down your cheeks and mixed with the blood crusting over your skin.

A soft, warm wave of peace rolled in, covering you like a well-loved quilt. The pain disappeared; the sorrow evaporated. All that remained was Bucky. This was the warm spring that followed a dark, bitter winter. The first rays of sun after a vicious storm. The first taste of home after a long time away. You let the familiar warmth of Bucky’s presence drown out the rest of the world until only you two remained.

“Sweetheart, did you hear me?” With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Bucky called you back to the present. “I need to look at your wound, okay?”

A sharp rush of pain nearly blinded you as you lifted your shirt, exposing the bloody mess. But even as Bucky appraised the gunshot wound that turned your abdomen into horror scene, you couldn’t find it in you to worry. Your hands lazily found his shoulder, his chest, his face; you just wanted to touch him. To know, without a doubt, that he was there. That he was real.

“Hey, we… we need to t-talk,” you whispered as Bucky did his best to quickly bandage your wound for transport. “I n-need to talk- to talk to you…”

Bucky nodded, “sure thing, doll. Absolutely. We can talk about whatever you want. But right now…” he returned your shirt to its rightful position and met your gaze. “Right now, I need to get you out to the jet, okay? We can talk later.”

He guided your arms around his neck, lifted you into his arms, and moved as fast as he could through the winding hallways. His quick gait set your nerves alight with pain. Every bump, every jostle had you gasping for breath. And though it was a necessary evil, the guilt still sat in Bucky’s stomach like a rock. His repeated ‘I’m sorrys’ were nearly constant, doubling with your every grimace and groan. But he couldn’t slow down, couldn’t let the time slip away; you didn’t have much left.

Between pained sounds and twisted expressions of discomfort, you said the same thing on a loop. Again and again and again, you pled with him, using energy you didn’t have.

“We need to… to t-talk.”

“I h-have to tell you.”

“Can I talk to y-you about- about something?”

And though Bucky would’ve loved nothing more than to have a long heart to heart with you as you two often did, you weren’t strong enough. He couldn’t let you waste your finite energy on a conversation with him. And so, he responded to each of your requests with an ask of his own, begging you to save your strength. He promised that the two of you could talk tomorrow, that there was plenty of time for a conversation later.

But ‘plenty of time’ almost seemed like an empty promise. And ‘tomorrow’ felt like a lie. Would you have a ‘later’? He didn’t know. But he didn’t want you wasting your oxygen, not when he feared it might be your last breath.

Boarding the jet with you alive in his arms almost felt like a win to Bucky. Almost. Sure, he’d gotten you out with your heart still beating, but your condition worsened by the second. And the grave looks the med team wore as Bucky gently rested you on the treatment table dug a deep pit in his stomach.

They sprang into action, placing IVs and delivering medications. Scissors glided through your shirt and exposed your broken body to the med team. Bucky knew they’d seen their share of gnarly injuries over the years, but he swore that they recoiled at the sight of your wounds.

With a shake of his head, Bucky refocused. He had to get you out of there- to get you home. He headed for the controls and planned to set the jet in motion. But he made it only a step toward the cockpit before a hand caught his.

“S-stay…” you whispered. “Please.”

His heart shattered. “I’m not leaving you, doll, I promise. I just have to get us in the air, okay?” With great care, he placed a kiss to your hand and set it at your side. “I’ll be back in just a minute.”

Bucky’s body operated on muscle memory alone as he initiated take off. His mind was occupied, completely and totally, by the sound of your weak voice begging him not to leave. The sound played on a loop inside his brain, cutting him deeper each time. You’d already been abandoned once today; he was certain you feared it would happen again.

With a deep breath and a quick reset, Bucky did what he had to do. He needed to be on his A-game for you, needed to be his very best. Only a few hours ago, you’d trusted someone with your life, and they failed you. Bucky wasn’t about to do the same. He worked carefully to chart the fastest route back to the compound, opting to forego FRIDAY’s proposed path. It kept him from your side longer than he would’ve liked, but less time in the air seemed like the best option. The sooner he could get you to the med bay, with its massive, brilliant medical staff and unlimited resources, the better.

Just as he finalized the flight plan and asked FRIDAY to notify the med bay of your impending arrival, an unsettling sound pulled his focus. It was an ominous beeping, alarming your care team of a sudden, life-threatening change.

Gloved hands moved at lightning speed; voices yelled medical jargon back and forth. And you laid there on the table. No heartbeat. No respirations. Deathly still.

Bucky stood on the periphery, too horrified to get any closer.

He thought it best, of course, to stay out the med team’s way. But knew deep down it was an excuse. He was simply too terrified to lose you. If he got closer, if he saw you struggling to stay alive, all of this would suddenly become real. And he couldn’t handle that.

“Barnes!” A nurse screamed at him, “did you hear me?”

Bucky forced himself back to the present. “No… I, um-”

“She has no pulse- get over here, we need you to do compressions!”

Bucky’s desperate need to help you, to save you, overpowered his fear. And in an instant, he was at your side. He loomed over you, his hands locked together, preparing to help resuscitate you. But once again, his fear reared its ugly head. You were already so badly injured, so weak. And he was far too strong. What if he made your condition worse? What if he-

“Come on!” The nurse yelled at him, “start compressions- now!”

He did as he was told. He pressed into your body with a measured pressure, careful not to crush your chest. But his cautious compressions didn’t cut it. The nurses instructed him to push harder. To “actually compress” your chest- and Bucky followed instructions.

But as he did so, a sickly snapping sound exploded from your body. Bucky recoiled instantly; his face contorted in horror.

“What are you doing? Keep going!”

“I can’t- I think I broke her ribs,” Bucky shouted at the doctor. “What do I do?”

“Keep going!” The nurse yelled, “It happens- just keep going.”

Bucky broke out into a cold sweat. His stomach turned at the thought of hurting you, of causing you even more pain; you’d been through enough as it was. But he did as he was told. With each round of compressions, he swore he created new fractures. He felt every splinter, every crack as he put pressure on your chest.

He wanted to sever every last nerve-ending in his hand; anything to rid him of the sickening sensation creeping through his palm. But if doing this saved you, it was worth the nightmares.

He watched as the two nurses provided your supplemental breaths and tended to your endlessly bleeding wound. The doctor called ‘clear’ every so often, shocking you with a defibrillator in an attempt to restore your heartbeat.

Round after round of compressions, breathing, and shocks passed by without signs of improvement. You remained lifeless, unresponsive. A syringe of epinephrine delivered straight to your chest did nothing. And Bucky felt what little hope he had slipping through the cracks in your ribs. He couldn’t believe he was about to lose you; couldn’t believe he’d have to watch you die. Hot tears blurred his vision and streaked down his cheeks. His legs went numb. At any second, he knew his knees would give out, knew he’d crumble to the floor under the crushing weight of grief.

The doctor deemed the next shock your last, and Bucky almost doubled over.

“Come on, doll, just-” He swallowed a sob, “just stay. Stay. Do it for me, I’m begging you. Please?”

The doctor called one last “clear” and delivered your final shock, only to be met with the rhythmic beeping of your heart monitor.

“Sinus rhythm restored,” announced the nurse to Bucky’s left. She appraised the waves on your EKG and gave a nod. “She’s stable.”

After what felt like an eternity, Bucky took a breath. He stretched his tense fingers and did his best to relax the rock-hard knots forming in his shoulders. A new crop of hope bloomed cautiously inside his chest, but he couldn’t allow it to blossom and flourish just yet. You weren’t out of the woods; there was a very real possibility that your heart might stop again. And he wasn’t sure how many times the doctor could revive you before throwing in the towel.

Less than a minute after Bucky’s cautious optimism sprouted anew, a soul crushing sight dashed it completely. A sharp gasp filled his lungs, a shudder rocked his frame. Shades of deep, dark blue bloomed under the skin of your chest. Black and purple splotches stained your sternum. Some spots were already starting to swell. He extended a hand in your direction but recoiled in an instant, fearing he’d hurt you yet again.

“Happens all the time,” one of the nurses said with a shrug. “Believe me, broken ribs are the least of her worries.”

Somehow, her words didn’t make him feel any better. He ached to hold your hand, to sweep a gentle caress across your cheek. But he didn’t dare touch you after what he did. Every glimpse of your bruised, swollen chest sent bile rushing into his throat.

The three dedicated members of the med team worked tirelessly for the rest of the flight. They did everything in their power to keep your condition steady, to maintain the life they worked so hard to save. It brought Bucky comfort to see them staying so close, ready to jump into action if need be.

Bucky, like the med team, hovered. He couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. You seemed too fragile, your condition too tenuous. He counted your every breath, took stock of every beat of your heart on the monitor. Stepping away for even a second felt wrong. He needed to be there if you crashed again, if the doctor needed extra hands. He needed to be there to help.

And if you woke up, he wanted to be the first face you saw.

But you didn’t wake. A groan here, a muscle twitch there- that was all you could spare. And though Bucky wanted nothing more than to see you open your eyes, he thanked the universe for keeping you unconscious. He knew tsunamis of pain rippled in the wings, waiting to overtake you the second you woke.

Bucky held his breath as the jet landed. Every jarring bump, every vibration, forced his heart into his throat. He feared that even the slightest impact would send you into cardiac arrest. He flicked his eyes from the rising and falling of your chest to the rhythmic flashing of your heart monitor and back again. Nothing changed, no alarms sounded. And when the jet finally stilled, Bucky breathed a deep sigh of relief. He just needed to get you to the med bay for treatment, and this whole nightmare would be over.

He didn’t like being optimistic. It felt like a set-up, like false hope. If he told himself you’d survive and you didn’t, the fall would be that much harder, that much more devastating.

But being realistic wasn’t any better. Telling himself that you were too far gone, that you weren’t going to make it, felt wrong. To him, it seemed like he was cursing you. Like willing your death into existence. Like begging the universe to end your life.

And so, he opted for a neutral mantra. “She’s home,” he told himself. “She’s home. She’s home. She’s home.”

The distance to the medbay felt longer than usual. The hallways seemed to stretch on forever, the double doors to the triage center seemed to grow farther and farther away. Bucky followed your gurney closely, only allowing a few inches of space between the two of you. He couldn’t be separated from you again. He wouldn’t. He needed to be with you every second, watching over you.

A dark cloud of impending doom loomed over his psyche. It whispered to him, telling him that if he left your side, if he let you out of his sight, you’d die. You’d be gone forever. And it would be his fault. He knew it was nonsense, that this was just his anxiety operating on overdrive. But he couldn’t shake the fear. And risking it wasn’t an option.

“No visitors past this point,” a security guard placed an arm in front of Bucky as he tried to enter the triage unit.

Bucky tried to go around the man, watching as the medical staff carried you farther out of reach. “I’m not a visitor, I’m an agent-”

“No agents past this point, then,” the guard rolled his eyes. “Only patients and medical staff. You can have a seat over there.”

A small table sat against the wall, flanked by two chairs. It was a sad, makeshift excuse for a waiting room that operated as a device to keep people from hanging around. But bucky couldn’t be discouraged. He took a seat in one of the chairs, determined to wait there as long as he had to. He knew he’d missed a number of important phone calls by now, and probably several meetings. But he didn’t care; all that mattered was you.

Dread circled Bucky like a buzzard as he waited. It was taking too long- why was it taking so long? How much time did the medical staff need? You were stable when the jet landed, the nurse said so. Why were there no updates? All Bucky needed was a nod, a bit of information. But he remained in the dark, wondering if you died on the operating table.

Maria found Bucky slumped in a chair with a zombie-like air about him. He was expressionless, his gaze hollow. His palms traced the same track up and down his thighs in a never-ending cycle. One look and she knew: something was very wrong.

“Hey,” she called softly, hoping not to startle him.

But Bucky didn’t respond- he didn’t even react. He just sat there, his unblinking stare burning a hole in the tile. An uneasiness enveloped Maria. She’d never seen Bucky so empty, so despondent. As she stared at him, she found herself fearing the worst. ‘Maybe he just received terrible news’ she thought. ‘Maybe he’s grieving’.

“Hey,” she tried again, nudging her foot against his.

He came back to life with a start. A sharp inhale filled his chest, his eyes blinked wildly. But his palms never stopped moving in their endless cycle against his tactical pants. And he never actually looked at her.

“Hi…” he breathed.

Hill took the seat opposite him. She conjured the gentlest, warmest tone she could find, “is everything okay?”

Bucky balled his hands into tight fists and stretched them out again. Maria noticed blood- your blood- crusting under his fingernails and staining his skin. But before she could get a good look, he grabbed the arms of the chair. His palms rubbed fervently against the plastic handles for a moment until they moved to his face. He ran his hands along his jaw, his spiky stubble poking into his skin.

“Barnes, what happened? Are you-”

Finally, his head snapped in her direction, “I can still feel it…”

“Feel what?”

Bucky’s head fell into his hands. He pressed his palms against his eyes and dragged them down his face. Maria watched him fall apart in slow motion. He seemed to be unraveling, one cell at a time. And when he finally spoke, shame made his words almost unintelligible.

“She crashed on the jet…”

“Oh...” Maria did her best to keep a calm, even tone. Her concern for you vibrated in her chest, but she didn’t dare let it free- not when Bucky was moments away from a meltdown. “Is she-”

“The med team needed help. There weren’t enough of them- they needed me to do chest compressions,” Bucky said, his voice low. “And I broke- I crushed her ribs.”

A sharp shudder rocked his entire body. Just thinking of that moment, when his too-strong hands destroyed your chest, was enough to make him sick. To scar him for life. To haunt him. Of all the horrible things he’d done in over the years, this was the worst. He gave his hands a quick shake, hoping to rid his nerve endings of the sensation.

“I felt her bones snapping under my hands,” Bucky’s words dripped with shame. “And I can still… I still feel it.”

“Okay,” Maria said gently. “Well, if she-”

“She was already in such bad shape,” Bucky swiped a tear from his cheek. “And I… I hurt her. I made it so much worse.”

His head fell into his hands once again and did not reemerge.

“Hey, look at me,” Maria gave his arm a gentle touch.

Bucky only shook his head.

“Come on, Barnes, just look at me for a second.”

Again, he refused.

Maria abandoned her chair and sat instead on the small table. She never got this close to Bucky. Usually, she preferred to give him his space. He wasn’t the touchy-feely type- unless you were around. But he was lost in a shame spiral, adrift with no hope of return. And he needed rescuing. She placed her hands on his and gently removed them from his face.

“You saved her life,” Maria said. “Twice. You rescued her from the base, and when the med team needed help, you came through.”

“But I-”

“Did it work?” Maria asked, her tine almost stern. “Did the chest compressions work?”

Bucky nodded.

Maria gave him a shrug, “That’s all that matters. She can recover from a few broken ribs, but if you hadn’t been there-”

Bucky averted his gaze as his eyes filled with tears.

“Hey,” Maria grabbed his face, bringing his focus back to her. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead.”

Maria’s words fought hard against the demeaning voice that lived inside Bucky’s head. It screamed at him, telling him that he shouldn’t believe her, that he was a monster, that he almost killed you. Usually, Bucky allowed his inner demons to run free. He listened to them without pause, believing anything and everything they told him, no matter how vile. But Maria was steadfast and unshakable in her sentiments; she truly believed what she was saying. And by some miracle, Bucky did, too.

“Thanks…” He granted her a hollow smile and a small nod.

Hill sat in silence with him for a few hours. She didn’t try to make small talk or ask what was going on inside his head. She simply existed near him, sharing the space so that he didn’t have to be alone. She ignored important texts and sent every call to voicemail. She knew it was exactly what you’d do for him, if you were able. And she did her best to fill your shoes.

Abruptly, Bucky’s head snapped in her direction. His pulse thrummed against his skin as a new wave of anxiety crashed over him. “She kept saying…” he sighed. “She kept saying we needed to talk. She wanted to talk to me about something.”

Maria cocked her head to the side, “About what?”

He shrugged. “I told her we could talk later because there would be plenty of time,” Bucky’s words grew shaky. He found himself near tears for what felt like the millionth time that day. Guilt sucker punched him. “What if… what if there isn’t more time for us? What if that was all we were ever going to get? What if-”

“You’ll get more time,” Maria said with certainty. “The universe has a way of evening things out. You were robbed of time once; it won’t happen again. Plus, you’re deserved some fucking karmic retribution- you’re owed this.”

Bucky wondered how she could be that sure of something so ethereal. But she was steady, solid as a rock. She didn’t waver in her words or add caveats at the end. She, somehow, knew it to be true. And Bucky couldn’t help but believe her.

But when Fury called her for the eighth time, she knew quiet time was over.

“I have to go, okay? Fury can’t do anything without me, he’s hopeless.” She stood from her seat and rested a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Call if you need anything.”

Bucky thanked her a million times over and, for the first time, gave Maria a hug. She would never know how much her reassurances helped him. She’d pulled him from the ledge and gave him what he desperately needed: perspective.

In the hours that followed, he let her words play on a constant loop inside his mind. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead,” he heard her say. “You’ll get more time.” The sickening feeling of your bones snapping under his strength never faded, and the fear of losing you still had him in a chokehold, but Maria’s words quieted his mind.

In the sad, empty waiting room, time seemed to mutate. Some of the hours dragged, others whizzed by. Bucky wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. Was it ten hours? Or twenty? He didn’t really care. He’d wait lifetimes for you.

He saw the security guards change shifts once, twice. It was the only thing alerting him to the passage of time, as part of him believed it was standing still. On the third shift change, they told him to go home.

“They’ll call you if there’s an update”, said one of the guards. “It’d probably be a good idea for you to go get some sleep, or something.”

Bucky knew he looked like hell. Your blood left crimson streaks across his face and neck. And the dark circles he usually wore under his eyes were a deep shade of plum. But he couldn’t leave, he couldn’t sleep. Not when your life hung in the balance. Not when you needed him.

A few more hours passed with no news, and Bucky found himself teetering on the edge of insanity. An angry, desperate voice bellowed inside his head. It told him to bust through the doors and find you, no matter what it took- even if it meant hurting people in the process. The gun secured to his hip and the knife strapped to his ankle became eerily attractive. His hands itched to reach for the weapons, to hold someone at gun point until they allowed him to see you. But he couldn’t to give in to the fear, to the violence. It took him years of therapy and long talks with you to stop seeing himself as a monster- and he refused to destroy the progress you helped him make.

A doctor stepped out of the double doors and looked in Bucky’s direction, “Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky was on his feet before he knew what hit him. This was it. After what felt like an eternity of not knowing whether you lived or died, he was about to have an answer. Sweat dampened his palm, his brow as he stood in front of your doctor.

He didn’t know he was even capable of this kind of fear, this kind of agony. And though he was an impossibly strong physical specimen, Bucky knew he’d never be able to lift the weight of the grief that followed your loss. He knew that, if you died, he’d spend the rest of his life dragging himself from place to place, unable to stand, unable to push back against the overwhelming, oppressive force of losing you.

Your doctor spoke quickly and professionally about your condition, but the words turned to mush the second they reached Bucky’s brain. The combination of medical jargon and pure panic made their meanings imperceptible. But one phrase managed to cut through the fog of Bucky’s anxiety and exhaustion: “you can see her now.”

And just like that, Bucky took off. His fatigued body did its best to carry him through the halls, stumbling every now and then on the smooth tile of the hospital floors. But he didn’t dare slow down. He had to get to you.

By the time he reached the door to your room, he found himself shaking- almost shivering- with anxiety. He knew you were alive, of course. Knew that the doctors had been successful in saving your life. But something in him doubted their handiwork. Something in him swore that if he didn’t get to you in the next half second, you’d flatline. Again.

He could practically feel his brain rattling around inside his skull, his teeth chattered against one another. And the sharp tremors in his hands made it nearly impossible to get a grip on the door handle. Panic and frustration coursed through him as the he tried again and again to gain entry to your room with no luck. A strangled sob forced its way out of his chest and caught the attention of a nurse- one of the nurses who helped keep you alive on the jet.

“Hey…” Her eyes drifted to Bucky’s shaking hands. “Need some help?” Before Bucky could answer, she’d abandoned the medication she was prepping, discarded her gloves, and made her way to his side.

“Here, let me.” Her soft, sympathetic tone was almost too kind; Bucky’s eyes blurred with tears. She turned the door handle and gestured for Bucky to go inside.

His “thank you” was for more than just the door.

Bucky took a few steps inside and drew in a sharp breath; he’d never seen you in such severe condition. Over the many hours that Bucky waited for you outside, all of your bruises grew darker, more menacing. They stained your throat, your face, your arms. He didn’t even want to think about the ones on your chest- the ones he caused. Dried blood crusted in your hair and formed a path down the side of your face. It sat caked under your fingernails and rested in the creases of your palms. Thankfully, your gunshot wound was covered by gauze and concealed by your gown. But knowing it was there was enough to make Bucky sick. He, of course, witnessed and inflicted, his fair share of carnage over the years. But he knew your wound would haunt him for years to come- simply because it was yours.

All he wanted was to be near you. To sit at your bedside and hold your hand. But he didn’t dare to get any closer. Electrodes attached a dozen wires to your chest. IVs sat lodged in the crooks of your elbows, in the backs of your hands. Machines and monitors kept track of your vitals. And who was he to disturb this fragile, vital ecosystem? What if he accidentally pulled out one of your IVs? What if he detached a wire by mistake? He’d already hurt you once today, he wasn’t about to do it again.

He, instead, opted to stand at attention. A few feet away. For your safety. He didn’t touch you, didn’t even say your name. He simply stared at you, counting your every breath.

An hour- or maybe two- passed by with him like this. Nurses checked on you, doctors poked their heads in. And every time, they told him he was permitted to sit by your bedside. But he just shook his head. Sure, slipping his hand into yours, being close to you- it would provide him with incomprehensible comfort. But he couldn’t, not when you were so severely injured.

After the third hour, Bucky feared his sanity was slipping. A wicked voice lodged deep in his psyche suddenly awakened. It whispered to him, taunted him. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe he was asleep in the waiting room. Maybe you didn’t survive. Maybe…

And he would’ve believed it, had you not snapped him out of the vicious spiral.

“Buck?” He feared he’d never hear you voice again, but there it was. Hoarse and weak- but yours.

Bucky flew to your side. He cradled your face gingerly in his hands, completely consumed by the need to touch you, to feel you, to know that you were real. His palms laid flush against your cheeks, his thumbs sweeping over your skin. And in an instant, the sickly sensation of your snapping bones vanished.

A hurricane of tangled thoughts and emotions crashed over him. He had so much to he wanted to say, so much he wanted to confess to you. But the words refused to arrange themselves properly. Suddenly, Bucky wished he’d used his ample time in the waiting room to better organize his thoughts. He wished he’d sought out a pen and a scrap of paper and used them to plan and articulate his sentiment. But even if he’d found the supplies he needed, he wouldn’t have been able to jot a single thing down. Not with his shaking, unsteady hands.

Anxious words and broken sobs got stuck in his throat and formed a garbled, unintelligible mess as they left his mouth. But it was the best he could do. He stared at you, waiting for your response.

“I, um…” you looked at him for a long moment. The haze of head trauma, blood loss, and pain killers made you foggy. You did your best to trace your steps back through Bucky’s words, certain that your condition was the cause of your confusion. But after a significant pause, you came up empty. “Sorry, I- what?”

Bucky slid one of his hands into yours and gave a soft laugh. “Sorry. I tried to say-” He sat quiet for a moment. What had he tried to say, exactly? He wasn’t sure. With a small shake of his head, he re-rerouted. “Um, it doesn’t matter. Here, how’s this:” He cleared his throat and spoke with the sharpest pronunciation possible. “How are you feeling?”

Your laugh- Bucky’s favorite laugh- bubbled up to the surface. But regret swallowed you whole as pain shot through your head, your chest, your side. The hurt radiated through your entire being. It rendered you breathless, and left your face twisted in an agonized grimace.

Bucky didn’t like how long it took you to recover from the small chuckle you shot his way. A pang of worry shot through him. “Don’t exert yourself, okay?” He swept a thumb across your cheek, “you don’t wanna tear your stitches or...” He cleared his throat, “aggravate any, um, broken bones.” Bones that he broke.

“No, I’m…” you squeezed your eyes shut for a long moment before opening them again. The pain slowly receded. “I’m good, I’m okay. I just- breathing is hard. I forgot how shitty it feels to have broken ribs.”

Bucky nodded. His teeth sunk into the smooth flesh of his cheek. A metallic taste coated his mouth. He didn’t want to tell you the truth. Didn’t want you to know that he was the cause of your severe pain. But you deserved to know, didn’t you? With a deep sigh, he opened his mouth, intent on telling you what really happened. But you cut him off.

“Thank you, Buck. For coming to get me. I really thought I was…” Hot tears stung your eyes and blurred your vision. “I thought that was it for me, you know? And I just want you to know how-” you sniffed, “how grateful I am.”

Bucky left your side for only a second, retrieving a box of tissues from the counter across the room. He was back in no time and swept a tissue across your cheek to catch your tears.

“I know we always say that we have each other’s backs but you… you meant it,” you said. A small smile pulled at your lips, “thank you for meaning it.”

Bucky nodded. He did his best to keep his breathing steady, to stop himself from falling apart at the seams. He knew exactly what it felt like to be left behind, to wait for your last moments- alone.

“I wasn’t gonna leave you there, doll. I couldn’t.”

You gave a small nod. “Yeah, I- I wish my partner had felt the same way…” The hurt in your voice was unmistakable. It sliced though Bucky’s chest. “I didn’t think he would ever do something like that. I mean, I thought we were friends.”

The mere thought of Jake brought a familiar rage to the forefront of Bucky’s mind. He didn’t understand how anyone could be so callous, so uncaring- so indifferent to the well-being of others. The part of him that swore off unnecessary violence remained quiet as the rest of him imagined Jake’s demise. He wanted your disloyal partner to suffer. To squirm and squeal and regret that he ever left you behind. But that could wait- you were the priority.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect him to be that kind of person,” Bucky sighed, “he seemed like a stand-up guy.”

Silence filled the room as you thought over Jake’s desertion. His abandonment hurt. It stung in places you didn’t expect. You’d taken Jake under your wing and did everything in your power to be the best leader possible. All you wanted was to help him. To set him up for success.

And after working alongside Bucky for so long, you’d forgotten that disloyalty to one’s partner was even an option.

“He probably panicked,” you tried to rationalize. “And then once he realized what he’d done, maybe he…”

There was no rationalizing this.

An ugly realization slithered into your mind. “After he left, I think he probably hoped I’d just die… that way I wouldn’t be able to give my side of the story.” The weight of Jake’s actions hit you like a train. Rivulets of warm tears rolled down your cheeks, only to be swept away by Bucky’s gentle hand. With a small shake of your head, you did your best to banish the feelings of abandonment and betrayal. Wallowing would only make you more miserable. And you didn’t need emotional pain on top of the physical agony that already plagued you.

“Well, joke’s on him,” you shrugged, “cause I’m still alive.” Pain radiated through your chest, bringing a grimace to your face. “Kind of.”

Bucky didn’t understand how you could just dismiss the bad feelings. Couldn’t understand your propensity for levity. Your partner left you for dead without a second thought- and yet, you found a way to joke about it. It was something he’d always admired about you, something he wished he was capable of.

You gave a strained laugh, “I can’t wait to see the look on Jake’s face when he finds out that I didn’t die.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what prompted him to say it. It left his mouth without his brain’s authorization.

“But you did.”

He wished to take the words back, but it was too late. They hung in the air, just out of his reach.

“I…” you struggled to grasp Bucky’s words. “I what?”

This was not the time- or the place, or the way- to tell you the truth. But he didn’t have a choice. His clumsy words made his bed, and now he had to lie in it.

“You, um…” Bucky didn’t want to think about what happened, let alone say it out loud. But he owed it to you to be honest. Especially after Jake had lied to you about being a trustworthy partner. Bucky scratched at the stubble on his face, ran a hand through his hair. Anything to delay the inevitable. But he couldn’t put it off for long. “Your heart stopped- you died. On the jet.”

Only one word fell from your lips, “Oh…”

“And while I’m at it, I might as well tell you that…” Bucky took a deep inhale. He was in too deep now. And keeping this from you any longer felt like lying. “That your ribs are broken because of me.”

A quizzical look crossed your face, “what do you mean?”

“I mean… the med team was short staffed on the jet. There were only three of them. And when you crashed, it was- it was an all hands on deck situation.” He flashed back to the moment when the alarms sounded. When your EKG flatlined. A shudder ran through him. “They needed me to do chest compressions. And I- I didn’t want to hurt you, but the nurse said I wasn’t pushing hard enough to actually help you. And when I pushed harder- I broke your ribs.”

Bucky searched your face for something- anything. Anger. Fear. Betrayal. But he found nothing. Your expression was as neutral as they come. He feared that something lingered just below the surface. That once you fully processed his words, you’d erupt into a perfect storm of disgust and disappointment.

He told himself to wait silently until you made up your mind. But the outburst exploded from his lips before he could stop it. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You know I’d never want to hurt you, I would never do anything to hurt you. But I… they told me I had to push harder. Or it wasn’t going to work. And I just wanted it to work, I wanted you to be okay, and-”

It took almost all of your strength to raise your hand and place a finger to Bucky’s lips. He fell silent.

“Buck, it’s okay.”

He tried to form a rebuttal, but you cut him off.

“You didn’t have to rescue me, but you did. No questions asked, no hesitation. You saved my life by getting me out of there. And you saved me again by helping the med team.” Your hand drifted from Bucky’s face and landed in his palm. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Bucky didn’t say anything else. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your palm. His eyes fell downward. You could almost see the shame eating him alive from the inside.

“Hey,” you intertwined your fingers with his. “I can handle a few broken ribs.”

“No, I- I know you can. I just…” A sad smiled flickered across his lips. “I feel terrible. You went through a lot. And I just don’t like knowing I made it worse.”

A long silence filled the room. You’d seen this side of Bucky more times than you could count. And you knew him well enough to know what followed. He was going to feel bad- terrible, actually- about this for a while. There was no accelerating the process or absolving him of his guilt. No amount of reassurances could save him from it. He just had to sit with it. One day, the weight would diminish. But it was going to take time. And that was okay.

You gave his hand a squeeze. “I thought your voice was a hallucination, you know.”

Bucky lifted his head.

“And when you came into the room, I actually thought that was a hallucination, too.” A smile stretched across your face, “I mean, I thought I was losing my mind.”

Bucky gave a half-hearted chuckle. He didn’t want to think about you in that room by yourself. About you struggling to tell what was real.

“But then you touched me…” You raised your hand and brushed it across your cheek, mimicking him. “And that’s when I realized that you were real- that you were there.” You fell quiet for a moment, lost in the memory of Bucky’s rescue. “It was like, in that moment, I wasn’t scared anymore. I wasn’t scared of the pain. I wasn’t scared of dying. I was just scared that…”

“What?”

“You have to promise not to laugh,” you told him with an authoritative tone. “Cause I know it’s corny, or cheesy, or whatever.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky drew an X over his heart. “I’m not gonna laugh at you.”

You stared at him with narrowed eyes, sizing up his promise. But, of course, you knew Bucky would never tease or ridicule you about something like this.

“Okay, fine, I um… I was scared that I’d never see you again. If I died, I mean.”

Bucky’s lungs emptied. He couldn’t remember how to breathe, how to speak. A sudden ache ripped through his heart as it splintered and shattered into a million pieces. To know that you thought of him in what you believed were your last moments somehow ripped him apart and put him back together all at once.

Your voice cracked. Tears filled your eyes. “I was afraid that we’d already run out of time. I was afraid that we weren’t going to get any more.” A few soft sobs escaped from your throat, followed by a pained groan. But you pushed passed the throbbing in your chest. “But I was so relieved. Because I got to see you one last time. It was the most intense sense of peace I’ve ever experienced.”

Bucky struggled to hold on to his composure. He felt himself crumbling, weakening under the weight of your words.

“But then I realized- I realized I’d never get to tell you. And you kept saying we could talk later, but I didn’t know if there would be a ‘later’. And when I blacked out, I was so full of…” You shook your head ever so slightly, sending a few tears dripping onto your cheeks. “I had so much regret. Because I needed you to know.”

“To know what?” Bucky leaned in close, searching your face for any inkling, any clue. “Doll, it’s ‘later’. Tell me- whatever it is. You can tell me now, it’s-”

Your lips met his in a soft kiss. In it, everything you’d ever felt for him came rushing forward. Admiration. Longing. Lust. Obsession. Adoration. Love.

A sting of pain jolted through you as your split lip brushed his, but you didn’t care. His hands found your face, your fingers curled into the collar of his shirt. It was always supposed to be this way.

When the two of you finally separated, Bucky simply stared at you. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak. He wasn’t sure he knew how.

“I love you, Buck. I’ve loved you- for so long.” A huff left your chest, “So. Long.”

Still, Bucky remained silent. Nerves began crawling through you like vines, twisting their way through every fiber of your being. But you owed it to yourself, and to Bucky, to tell him the truth.

“And I just… I know how you see yourself. And I know you don’t think you’re even worthy of my friendship, let alone love. But I was so anxious, cause I thought you’d never know the truth. I thought I’d die without getting to tell you. And you’d live the rest of your life thinking that you’re not worthy, that no one could ever love you. But I- I love you. I just needed you to know.”

The silence made your ears ring. Bucky’s face still wore a mask of bewilderment. And you feared you’d ruined everything.

“You don’t have to say it back, though,” you said. “I’m not gonna stop being your friend if this is an unrequited thing.”

Finally, Bucky came back to life. He rolled his eyes and let a scoff escape his lips. He leaned in close, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours. “Unrequited? I broke every SWORD rule and policy. Abducted medical staff. Stole a jet. And went on an unauthorized mission. All to get you back. I didn’t even know if you were alive, I just- I had to bring you home.”

He closed the small gap that remained between your face and his and granted you warm, gentle kiss that tasted like home. “I did all that- and you thought there was even a chance that I didn’t love you back?” Bucky gave a playful roll of his eyes, “you don’t know me at all, sweetheart.”

You returned his eye roll. "Well, you're a really great friend to me. And you always have been. So, I didn’t take a rescue as a proclamation of love,” you gave a strained chuckle. “I just thought-”

“I’ve loved you for…” Bucky thought back over the course of your friendship. The day you first met, the first time you helped him through a panic attack, the time he made you the ugliest cake in the world for your birthday. He saw his life in two parts: before he met you and after he met you. And he so preferred the after.

“I don’t even know how long,” he shrugged. It was almost automatic. His feelings for you didn’t need a slow, gradual build up. They descended upon him all at once, like the world’s most beautiful avalanche. “It’s been a long time- an embarrassing amount of time, probably,” he laughed.

“Oh, so we’re both cowards then,” you shot him a wink. “Too afraid to tell the other how we feel.”

Bucky nodded, “It seems that way…”

“But you weren’t too scared to steal a jet and run into possible gun fire?” you quipped.

“Nope. Didn’t even think about it,” he said matter-of-factly. “I just wanted to find you.”

You’d never experienced a love- a commitment- like that. It sent a rush of warmth into your cheeks and somehow eased the pain plaguing your body. You knew in your heart you would’ve done the same for Bucky without a second thought. But knowing that he was so fiercely determined to bring you home felt almost unbelievable. You had the proof, though, right there in front of you. This man, who you loved, loved you too. And loved you enough to risk his life for you. It wasn’t something you’d ever ask him to do, and you knew you’d never have to. He’d do it without hesitation. Without reservation. He’d walk through fire for you if it meant bringing you home.

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calypsocolada · 6 months ago

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MISO SOUP AND SWEET POTATOES | g. tomioka

(click here for part two!)

synopsis: you're tasked with convinicing Giyu to join the Hashira Training author's note: hello. this was a days worth of writing. from 11 am to 3 am. i even wrote parts in my notepad at work. i really like how this turned out. i finished the hashira training arc last night and think that final episode might've been the best episode of anime i have actually ever seen. this is a whole ass story cw: slightly suggestive, major spoilers for rengoku and the hashira training arc, character death, gore, ANGST, fluff, happy ending, not proofread, fem reader, use of y/n a lil, lover!giyu, hardheaded!reader wc: 6.3k

click here for my masterlist

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“Would you mind talking to Giyu for me? So that Giyu, who tends to put himself into a negative frame of mind can start looking ahead again. Will you be persistent in your efforts to speak with him?”

You stared at the letter. You reread it again and again and again. Your body still aches from the previous fight in the swordsmith village and you sort of hoped this was a hallucination. That you were still unconscious. But as your crow beside you squawked and you jumped you knew it was real. The paper crinkled beneath your hands. Kagaya’s handwriting is flawless and script. You followed the trail of his pen again.

Would you mind speaking to Giyu for me?

You wondered if maybe this letter was accidentally sent to you. Even as your eyes wandered back up to the top of the paper that clearly said ‘Dear Y/n’. Even if it didn’t say your name there were no accidents with Kagaya.

But… but there had to be. Out of everyone, all the Hashira that were certainly closer to Giyu. But you, the newest Hashira, had been chosen to speak with him? In what world did that make any sense? You barely knew the guy. Granted he had been the reason you joined the corp originally but he’d dodged your very presence the best he could ever since.

Your village had been attacked about four years ago. Same old story for a lot of people victimized by demons. There was never a happy ending with those monsters involved. Always blood. Always loss. It was no different for you. Half of your family was slaughtered before you could even rouse yourself from sleep. But when you did all you saw was the inkblots of blood on your white walls, the color shining from being hit by the moonlight. You remembered sitting up and feeling numb as you heard someone screaming. The scream that never left you. Something you’d never be able to ingest for as long as you lived.

When you got to your feet your mother had busted into your room. She looked pale, blood gushing from beneath her white nightgown. She scooped you up and kissed your head as she stuffed you into the closet. She shushed your cry’s and told you not to come out until the sun shone beneath the crack in the door. She gave you one last kiss. You didn’t know then it was the last. You reached for her but she pushed your hands back, silently shook her head then pressed the door closed.

You’d always been a good kid. You stayed put exactly as you’d been told. Even as you heard more screams. Even as it went quiet.

Only until that sun shone beneath your door did you move. You busted out of that closet. Your mother’s name is the first thing on your lips but she wasn’t the first person you saw. The scene in your house was horrific to say the least. The sights of the people you loved in multiple torn pieces is something that comes back to you in flashes when you fight demons.

It spurs you on to do exactly what they did to your family back to them. To tear them to shreds.

In the middle of it all was a boy. He was sitting so still that you didn’t even notice him amongst the slaughter. Your living room was still dark, dark enough that it kept this monster safe as it rose to its full height. No longer a boy but a creature from your deepest darkest nightmares. It had your family’s blood on its mouth as it smiled a wickedly devilish smile.

“Hmm. Missed one.” It spoke in a gravelly tone as it swallowed whatever it was chewing on. You could guess what. You stepped back into your mother’s blood… or maybe your father’s? The blood, thick beneath your foot slid out from underneath you and you crashed into their bodies, something sharp sticking into your side as you gasped in sudden pain. Your mother’s hand still gripped a knife that had now lodged itself in your thigh. The demon only laughed. “Clumsy one aren’t you. Mother wasted her time hiding something so useless.” He growled, approaching with a predatory gleam in his dark eyes.

When he pounced towards you something momentary took hold over you. You, a measly twelve years old, ripped that knife from your own leg and thrusted it into the demon's eye. The creature roared like nothing you’d heard before as it stumbled back away from you. You just blinked as you watched it, numbness contending with your fear. The creature yanked the knife out and tossed it angrily to the side. It growled, fuming as it charged back at you. You raised your hands to defend yourself, screwing your eyes shut. You heard the whoosh of something cutting through the air itself and when you opened your eyes the creature had halted its assault. It locked eyes with you moments before its head toppled right off its shoulder. You stared in abject horror as the creature's body started to burn a blood red color and you saw a figure behind it. You were as still as a statue as the figure behind it took shape.

The shape of a boy, he couldn’t have been much older than you. Eyes an indigo blue, dark and almost unfeeling as they met yours. You watched as he gave a quick swipe of his sword to rid it of the demons burning blood as he sheathed it back at his side.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, his voice young like yours. You weren’t hurt. Somehow. And you couldn’t open your mouth to answer him, not with your body still on top of your parents. You just stared at him, even as your eyesight got cloudy and stinging tears slid down your cheeks.

The boy walked towards you and remained still, unable to move as he bent down in front of you. He reached and clumsily brushed the tears from your face. It was as if he knew you wouldn’t part your lips to speak because wordlessly he, with immaculate ease, picked you up off the corpses and carried you out of the house. You moved for the first time in minutes as your head tilted to look back towards your family.

“Eyes on me.” He said and sure enough your eyes snapped to him. To take in his face. Eyes endlessly dark blue as they stared forwards. He had to have been your age, maybe a year older. He had the shape of a young face, with full cheeks and raven black hair to the nape of his neck. You couldn’t look away, it had nothing to do with his looks but everything to do with his command.

You were a good kid. When someone told you to do something you did it. Years later you would come to thank Giyu for that, for commanding you to look at him instead of glancing back at what remained of your family.

Everything after that was just sort of a blur. You stayed some place warm, a faint fire flickering and that boy with the sword stayed with you until some men in black uniforms found you. You remember not being able to walk, the shock and grief of the night not letting you. You’d held onto your saviors shirt, your fist balled. He let you, in fact he even came along with you and the men in black and when they asked you to let go you blinked at them. You hadn’t even noticed you were still holding on. You let go in an instant. Your hand is sore from how tightly you’d been clenching. The men in black’s hands were on your shoulders guiding you away and when you looked back your voice came to you.

“What’s your name?” You asked, everything paused for you so you could hear his answer.

“Giyu.” He answered. You put a name to his face. You parted your lips to thank him but nothing came out again. You couldn’t say thanks. Not when you were the only breathing because you cowardly hid in the closet. You felt you didn’t deserve to be thankful. You met his eyes again and something, somehow, told you he understood. He gave you the softest nod of his head and when he turned to leave you felt your heart drop. Like something had bonded you to this boy. But you turned and let yourself be whisked away.

A year later you worked for the very same people as Giyu had. You were given a sword and trained thoroughly by a man with red and orange hair. You weren’t ever good with names but the fire in him fueled the fire in you. Which is why you eagerly learned that breathing style and trudged up that mountain to crush the selection test.

A few years after that you ran into Giyu. You were sent on a mission to help the Water Hashira. You’d never met any other Hashira besides Rengoku so you were sort of apprehensive. You never liked meeting new people. All those years spent with Rengoku and his fiery personality you wished at least some of it had rubbed off on you but… you were still demure and quiet, quick to anger and prone to disappearing. You liked your alone time. You had all but begged Rengoku to let you go with him in his mission, apparently some demon had infested a train, that sounded far more exhilarating than helping some water Hashira you didn’t know. Rengoku did what he always did when you were disappointed. He gave you a sort of unwanted hug, though secretly you wanted and needed it, and ruffled your hair.

“We’ll see each other in two weeks. Next mission is yours and mine.” He said and then he was gone and you were boarding a train going the opposite way.

When you arrived, stepping off the train your eyes met the same indigo blue eyes from so many years ago. When you were both kids. Now both adults. You stopped where you stood, unable to walk any closer as everything fled back. Stuff you had managed to keep down deep for so many years. Memories you wanted to erase. All that time wasted and drudged back up in mere seconds. Giyu may have had those same eyes but he was grown now. His hair longer and tied back, his face had lost that boyish roundness. He looked tall and lean. Well at least taller than you. For a moment he looked just as surprised as you but he smoothed over that emotion into something practiced.

“It’s you.” He said, his voice deep and soft. You swallowed, your hand resting on your sword.

“You’re the water Hashira?” You asked and he nodded his head as the train behind you dinged and slowly pulled out of the stop, the wind brushing your hair over your shoulders.

“You’re Rengoku’s tsuguko?” At that you nodded your head back at him. His eyes trailed to your sword, to your haori, and old one Rengoku had lent you. His eyes lingered on that fiery pattern.

“I never learned your name.” He said and then his eyes flicked to yours. You swallowed dryly, you weren’t sure why he made you so nervous, why your heart was beating so fast. You wondered if he was a part of a life you wanted to die off. The scared girl in the closet was far from who you were now. Rengoku never got to meet that scared girl. No one had. Except Giyu. You told him your name and he repeated it, as if feeling how it felt on his own lips. Your heart skipped a traitorous beat at the way he spoke your name. It felt different coming from him. You grabbed ahold of yourself.

“Shall we?”

But your mission with Giyu was cut off with the sudden death of Rengoku. You and Giyu hadn’t made it back to the village before both of your crows had delivered the news. You still remembered everything about that moment. Giyu walking beside you, your haori catching a gust of wind, cold wind, as if winter was coming. You could replay your footsteps on the dirt road. The distant flapping of wings growing closer and closer and then stopping as they landed. Your initial glance over at the water Hashira before the delivering of the news. The ripple before the crack in your soul. Giyu had been present for the worst two days of your life. Something about losing someone again that felt like family irrevocably broke something in you all over again. This pain you felt before today you wondered for years if it would last. Rengoku had healed some of it. And begrudgingly and foolishly you let him in. But now you have your answer. This pain would last forever. You couldn’t even cry, you just stared blankly ahead, just as you had in your dark house wrecked with the stench of blood.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, you didn’t want to look at him.

“Go, I’ll finish the mission.” He said, his voice different, there was a coldness before but now only warmth. You still didn’t look at him as you turned to leave.

“Be careful.” You choked out before taking off in a run back towards the train station.

You’d seen Giyu a few times after that but only in passing, never long enough to start up a proper conversation though both of you hated talking. You never let anyone else in after that. You took up the position of Fire Hashira and the only thing fiery about you was your utter hatred for demons. The other Hashira were sort of weary of you and that kept them at a distance. You only talked when absolutely needed and was the first to leave after Hashira meetings. You liked that distance. You’d do anything to keep it. There was only so much heartbreak and loss you could take. You were at your limit. You didn’t have room for anyone in your scabbard dying heart.

That’s why receiving that letter from Kagaya had caught you so off guard. He of all people knew who you were and still he asked you for a favor. Probably a dying wish. He had shown you kindness and since it was the only thing he’d ever asked you for, reluctantly, you found yourself at the front of Giyu’s home. It was cold out as your knuckles rapped against the wooden door. You waited, stepped back and looked off to the side, expecting to see Kagaya’s crow lingering around somewhere to report back to him. A minute had passed as you gave one more series of knocks. Nothing. Maybe he wasn’t home. You sighed and turned to leave just as the wooden door clicked and was pulled open. When you turned back those striking blue eyes met yours. There was skepticism on his face as you swallowed. That feeling that met you every time you saw Giyu never seemed to fade. That persistent speeding of your heart. That faltering of words. All highly inconvenient.

“Y/n?” Giyu spoke first, pulling the door open just a tad more. He was in casual clothing, he looked as though he may have just woken up.

“Giyu. I never knew you lived in this part of town.” You lied. You knew.

“It’s quiet.”

“I can see.” The lack of noise was slightly unsettling, only the rustling of leaves in the wind could be heard. You swallowed. “May I come in?” Your voice was slightly strained and didn’t at all sound like you wanted to do that but to your detriment Giyu moved to the side. Giyu’s home was a reflection of himself. It was clean, almost sterile, with dark walnut furnishings and dark curtains. He really must’ve been sleeping because he reaches over and flicks on a few lanterns, casting an orange glow to his living room.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” He says over his shoulder and you almost agree.

“Unwanted?” You ask and when he shakes his head ‘no’ you relax sort of.

“I’ll make us some food. Did you travel long?” He asks as he leads you towards the kitchen. You take a seat at the kitchen island and watch him get to work.

“Yeah. Long train ride.” You answer as Giyu nods his head. You know he’s probably dying to know why you’re here but you're sure if you told him things would turn sour. You watched Giyu gather ingredients and supplies, he was very orderly about things, kept things nice and clean as he prepared dinner for you both. You had a lot of experience cooking growing up with Rengoku, that man could eat and eat. Just at the thought you felt a pang and forced your face not to show it.

“Do you need help?”

“That’s alright, you rest.” Giyu intones, setting a cup in front of you as he fills it with hot black tea. You thank him, wrapping your hands around the warm mug. You stare down into the tea for a moment and realize you had no idea how to go about this little favor Kagaya had asked of you. You barely spoke with anyone, you were well out of practice. How genuine would this ask even be coming from you?

“How’re you?” You asked, not letting yourself be embarrassed by your lack of social skills. Giyu flicks on the stove.

“Do you really want to know?” He asked over his shoulder and stupidly, because he wasn’t even looking at you, you nodded your head before clearing your throat and speaking.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” You hoped that didn’t come out as sharp as it sounded.

“I’m… well. Thank you for asking.” Giyu answered, his monotone answer at war with the words he spoke. He sounded anything but well. You remembered the last Hashira meeting. You remembered Giyu’s back turned as he said, “I’m not like the rest of you.” Unlike Sanemi you didn’t feel angry at that. In fact you knew how that felt. To feel unwelcomed and wanting it to stay that way.

“If you’re well then I’m well.” You said and when Giyu turned, his eyes meeting yours, you felt a flash of how you saw him that first time. You blinked it away as he turned back.

“I didn’t think… you of all the Hashira’s would be the first to visit.” Giyu said, turning back to the stove. You stared at the back of his head.

“Me neither.” You said with a soft sigh. “But here I am.”

“Here you are.” He says, his voice soft again. It did funny things to you. Funny things that only he could elicit. It was frustrating.

“Giyu…” You trailed off, unsure how to broach the subject. “Did something happen? To make you not want to help out with the Hashira training?” Giyu was quiet for a long moment. You watched him stir some stuff into the pan and for a moment you thought he hadn’t heard you.

“Can we not… talk about that?” He asks almost kindly. But that’s all you needed to talk about. If you didn’t stay on topic you’d be doing Kagaya a disservice, though could you count that as a hardy first try?

“Of course.” You answered, fiddling with your hands. You’d left your sword back at the inn you were staying at and wished you’d had it just so you could fiddle with something else. “Though, I apologize but, I almost wish I could sit it out too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Training a bunch of snot nosed kids sounds like hell to me.” You spoke truthfully and watched Giyu;s shoulders rise and fall quickly, almost like he was maybe laughing, but he still wasn't facing you so you wouldn’t know.

“Not a fan?”

“I had my fill with the three from the swordsmith village.” Tanjiro, his little demon sister, Nezuko and Sanemi’s little brother Genya. All a handful. But very capable in a fight.

“How’re your wounds? I… never got to ask.” Giyu says as he reaches for some seasoning, finally turning to the side to face you.

“Scarring up.” You said and Giyu nodded his head, his eyes drifting to the scar on your cheek.

“Two upper ranks. If anyone could handle them I knew it’d be you.” He says with a sort of gleam in his eye.

“Can’t take the credit. That red head kid killed one of ‘em while MItsuri and I held off its body. Muichiro took one by himself.” You recounted, the fight honestly felt like it would never end.

“You and Kanroji worked together?”

“Surprising, right?”

“Not at all.” Giyu answers. “You two are very alike.”

“In what way?” You almost laughed at that statement.

“Strong, fierce, never quit.”

“I think we all have that in common.” You say and Giyu gets this look in his eyes as he turns back away. You feel as though you lost some ground. You chew the inside of your lip. Clearly Giyu doesn’t feel as though he had that in common with you. Something ignited in you. A need to say something on your mind. “Giyu… I-- I never thanked you.”

“Thanked me?”

“I’ve… wrestled with it for a long time. How to… go about it. Kyojuro used to tell me to practice with all the people we met. To thank them for stupid things, like holding the door open or bringing me food. Just so the words didn’t feel so foreign. But I never really felt thankful for you saving me. I lived because my whole family died. Because I hid.” You take in a shaky breath. You’d never talked about this stuff out loud, not even with Rengoku. You felt embarrassed suddenly, shaking your head, you forced out a choked laugh. “Nevermind. I don’t know what I’m saying.” You felt his eyes on you but you forced yourself to keep looking down at your warm tea. As long as you stayed like this maybe he’d move the conversation along to something else. You cursed yourself for ruining the mood, if there even was one to begin with.

“You don’t have to stop. I… I would like to know more about you. I… always have.” Your eyes shot to his like a gun hitting its mark. Those dark eyes, you could swim in them. Get lost in them. Those eyes… could make you feel something. That made you shoot to your feet, your tea spilling over. Giyu didn’t startle, he just turned to grab a rag but when he turned back you were halfway to the front door. He dropped the towel on the table. “W-wait, Y/N,” He called to you but when he rounded into the living room the front door slammed closed.

You fumbled outside, steps clumsy as you started to run and run. You didn’t want to think about it. You had to get away, as far as those legs of yours could take you. You could run to the next town over, retrieve your sword in the morning and never speak to the water hashira again. Never again. Favor be damned. What you felt was dangerous. That kind of thing left you the hollow husk you were today. You preferred this safe loneliness. You couldn’t ever be hurt again. You stopped for a moment, the cold air tough to run in as you huffed and puffed out condensation clouds.

“You’re fast.” You hadn’t even heard his approach. You didn’t turn, just swallowed.

“I- realized I have something to do in the morning. Can’t stay out late.”

“Come back, Y/n. Please.” His voice was doing that soft thing you body liked so much. You clenched your jaw, if you could stab your heart you would.

“Can’t.”

“Why? And… tell me the truth.” You heard him walk a bit closer. Please, you thought, just go back home.

“Maybe you’re right. What you said at the last meeting, that you’re not like us other Hashira. Maybe I just realized it.” You wanted to hurt him, it was a common defense you used quite often.

“And?”

“And I’m wasting my time speaking with someone who’d rather sit on the sidelines.” You spat over your shoulder. That’ll do it, you thought, that’ll get him to leave. It was quiet, heartbreakingly quiet and you were too much of a coward to see the hurt you caused so you started to walk away towards your inn.

“I… don’t care if you hate me.” You stopped walking instantly and turned, Giyu looked stricken, as if you slapped him. You regretted turning around. “You can hate me all you want. Yell at me, hit me, whatever you want to do. But I need you to know… you might regret me saving you but I have never regretted saving you…”

“Giyu,”

“Please… let me.” He straightened slightly. “I… am amazed by you.” His words hit you like the sharpest sting. Like a knife in the gut that slowly twists. “You’re incredible, nothing ever could rival you. You… lost so many yet you fight with purpose. I could never be like you.” You tense your jaw, eyes sharp.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You take a step towards him. “I am hateful. I don’t have a purpose to fight anymore I just do it because it needs to be done. You don’t know me at all.”

“Maybe I don’t. But… I want to.”

“Why?”

“I’m not succinct.” Giyu sighs, as if tired. “I just do.” Want to know you. You stared at him and that traitorous heart of yours, that naive heart did another flip. You shook your head.

“You don’t. No one does.”

“Rengoku did.” Your eyes lit like fire, some heat filling your soul. You wanted to yell at him for saying his name. For bringing him into this. But you’d done it first.

“He’s dead. They all are. My whole family. I don’t want to know you. I don’t want you to know me. I want you to go back home and let me be.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Maybe for the same reason your eyes find mine every time we're in the same room.” Giyu took a step closer, you watched him move as though he was going to strike you down. LIke he was going for a killing blow.

“I… I don’t do that.” The lie was so obvious to your ears it almost made you cringe outwardly.

“I’m not trying to embarrass you because… I look for you in every room. I… I lied to you the second time we saw each other so many years ago I… I knew you were Rengoku’s tsuguko because he’d written to me. He… sensed something and told me he was sending you to me for that mission. I was so… so damn nervous to see you again after so many years. So curious about how you were faring and I couldn’t even get more than fifteen words out. And when Rengoku passed I would write Kagaya, ask him how you were because I was too much of a coward to ask you myself.” That’s why Kagaya wrote to you. Your heart still beat, skipped a beat then beat again. Everything was falling into place. Why Rengoku had sent you away when you had always gone on his missions with him. The scheming man was playing matchmaker. And even Kagaya was playing the same damn game.

“Don’t say anything else, Giyu. Please.”

“I won’t speak the rest of the night if you come back. You can even leave at first light. Just please… let me feed you and give you a place to sleep.”

“My inn isn’t too far.”

“Please.” The emotion in his voice was staggering. It was a plea. It had sounded like something he needed even more than breathing. You stared at him. If you went with him now that would be the very first crack in your walls. You never gave an inch away since Rengoku died and if you started now everything would crumble.

“No. I’m going back to my inn.”

“I’ll join the hashira training.” He said and your lips parted in silent surprise. “That’s why you came tonight wasn’t it? You’d never do it alone so Kagaya must’ve written to you? Am I right?” Your face must’ve given away the answer because Giyu continued and you realized right here and now this is the most you two have ever talked. An hour together had more dialogue than almost eight years. And this was why you kept your distance all these years. Because if anyone knew you it was Giyu, he’d seen you at your lowest yet here he was… begging you to stay for just a few hours. “Come back and I’ll join. You can consider your favor a success.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I’d do it for you.”

“Be serious.” You growled and Giyu took another step forward. You hadn’t noticed him getting so close but suddenly he was close enough to touch. You stepped back.

“Come back. Please.”

“You’re annoyingly persistent.”

“I just want you safe. That’s all.”

“You already saved me once. That’s enough.” You condemned with a shake of your head. Giyu looked doubtful for a moment, unsure of how to convince you to come back. But if you made good on Kaguya's favor this could be the end of it. “I’ll come back.” His eyes shot up to yours. “But I’m gone first light.” He nodded his head at that.

Giyu finished up dinner as you set the table. It was quiet between you two after everything. Giyu had all but confessed the real depth of his feelings but you had an idea and it wasn’t something you’d let yourself dwell on. That idea was something close to hope. Something close to the degree of happiness. That’s not something you wanted. Not something you’d let yourself have. If there was one thing you were truly good at, it was self destruction.

You took your seat as Giyu placed down the food. Miso soup with sweet potatoes. You stared at it, stricken. Rengoku’s favorite meal.

“Y/n? Are you alright?”

“Seriously? That was at least your sixth bowl.” You huffed as Rengoku smirked as he pulled the bowl to his lips, slurping down the rest of its contents. He placed it down and reached for the ladle again. You watched him in amused surprise as he dulled out a seventh bowl. “You’re overgorging yourself.”

“It’s too good. Who taught you to cook, kid?”

“You did.” You sighed with an eyeroll as Rengoku laughed heartily.

“Ah! That’s right I did.”

You blinked a few times and suddenly your face felt wet. You pressed a hand to your cheek. You hadn’t cried since losing your parents. You thought you were incapable, that you had exhausted your tear ducts at night. You hadn’t cried when you lost Rengoku and you always felt inhuman because of it. You looked across the table and met Giyu’s wide eyed stare, he looked startled at your tears.

“What’s wrong?” He asked and you couldn’t stop the tears now. They fell so fluidly, so overwhelmingly. You tried to apologize but your words just came out in stuttered croaks in your throat. Giyu stood so fast he knocked his chair over as he crossed to the other side of the table. He dropped to his knees beside you and pulled you to him. Rengoku hugged you a lot. You’d say it was unwanted but it was something you needed. Giyu’s arms around you felt different. He hugged you close to his chest, his hand tangled in your hair as you fell prey to your emotions. But startlingly so… it felt nice. Bottling things up for so long had very nearly ended you and you might’ve been able to really shut off your humanity if it hadn't been for that damned letter. If it hadn't been for Rengoku’s unending kindness. If it hadn't been for Giyu’s persistence. You could’ve nearly ended up as black hearted as the demon that flipped your life upside down. That was the most startling revelation of them all.

Giyu hugged you tight as you fell to pieces. He didn’t let go, never even loosened his arms a little bit around you. He just held you and let you cry and cry. It should’ve been embarrassing but as he pulled your hair back out of your face and wiped your wet cheeks there wasn’t an ounce of that annoying sympathy in his eyes. Just utter understanding. And this was the most inopportune time, seeing as your eyes were probably bloodshot, nose probably running like crazy, but without thinking you sucked in a ragged breath and then pressed your mouth to his.

Giyu made a sound low in his throat, you felt his arms around you tighten, drawing you in, deepening the kiss. This wasn’t something you knew of. Your parent’s pecked each other’s lips and cheeks but this… no this was something for behind closed doors. For just you two. That fire that pooled in your stomach upon seeing Giyu had heightened at least tenfold when he pulled you into his lap. Your bodies pressed against one anothers, no room, not even a milimeter’s length of space. He kissed you softly, but you kissed him back hard. That chasm of loneliness in you had reached its peak and you wanted it gone. He gently ran his hand through your hair and you balled your fist in his shirt. He gently lowered you back and kissed you against the hardwood flooring of his kitchen.

You shoved your chair away from you both and hooked your legs around his hips. He made another sound and you found that you liked it so you tightened your hold and slid your hand in his hair. That awarded you another sound, like a whimper. When he pulled back for air you yanked him by the hair back to your lips. Fuck air. You didn’t need that. You’d rather breathe him in. He whimpered again, his hips mindlessly moving, sending a wave of heat through you and this time it was your turn to groan. He hooked an arm around your back and with strength and swiftness, he hoisted you up off the floor without even breaking the kiss. You gasped in surprise and he walked you through the hallway. Kissing you against the wall and the door and the dresser before he finally made it to his bed.

You two fell into the softness of his covers, his body trapping you beneath him. He trailed his lips away from yours and whimpered at the loss of contact. But he kissed both your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose and to your jaw. He paid extra attention to your neck before kissing your collar bones. He kissed his way back down your body. Kissing your scars that had once been an eyesore to you. Ever so gently tracing some absentmindedly with his other hand. Whatever growing between you two was something to be earned. Sure you loved Giyu but you needed more time with him. You spent eight years barely speaking. You could tell Giyu felt that too because when his lips met yours again and pulled back you both blinked tiredly at one another.

Astonishingly you watched the softest of smiles spread across Giyu’s face. You wanted to catalog this moment forever. To remember it till the day you died. Giyu pressed one last kiss to your forehead and then dropped beside you on the bed. He pulled you to him, your back pressed to his front. Your legs tangled as his hand reached across you and intertwined with yours. You blushed but settled against him. The dregs of sleep calling for you. You two didn’t need to speak another word.

You watched the first light roll in through Giyu’s curtains. It shone like blades across his room. Giyu softly snored beside you, arms still around your body. You’d never kissed a single soul before but you knew what a kiss meant. You knew whenever your dad kissed your mom or the other way around that it was an unspoken way to say I love you. But it was a different kind of love your parents shared. You loved your family. You loved Rengoku.

But you loved Giyu.

You loved him as you clamped your fist in his shirt the night he saved you. You loved him when you stepped off that train. You loved him at every hashira meeting and every stolen glance. You loved him as you read Kagaya’s letter and loved him when he opened the door. As he chased you down in the street and begged you to come back to his home. So many problems never go away, some pain felt as though it would last forever and you never thought you could break through. You never thought you could just grow around it, because nothing was more persistent than a plant in the presence of the sun. You never told Rengoku you loved him, never told him how much he meant to you and that his kindness never fell to deaf ears. You had spent eight years loving Giyu and not letting yourself know it.

And all it took was some miso soup and sweet potatoes.

#fem reader #demon slayer giyuu #demon slayer x reader #giyuu tomioka #giyu x reader #giyu x y/n #giyu x you #giyuu x reader #kny giyuu #kny x reader

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baigepueckers · 12 days ago

Text

Nika Mühl X Reader

Number Ten Part 2

You took a deep breath before pushing open the door to Tim’s, the low hum of conversation spilling out into the cool night air. The dimly lit bar was packed a mix of college students filling the space, but your eyes were already searching for one person.

You clutched your phone tightly rereading Nika’s text one more time… Front left corner. Can’t wait to see you ❤️. Her words echoed in your mind with a source of comfort and the reason butterflies were swirling in your stomach. Meeting Nika was one thing, but meeting her team? You weren’t sure if your nerves could handle it.

You told yourself to breathe. Nika had made you feel safe, seen, and wanted in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time.

You spotted her almost immediately. Even in the crowded bar she stood out…her broad smile and effortless energy drawing you in like a magnet. She was mid laugh leaning against the table where her teammates sat but the moment she caught sight of you, her entire demeanor shifted.

Her eyes lit up and her smile softened into something just for you. She straightened up… already moving toward you completely ignoring the playful protests from her teammates behind her.

“Y/N” she greeted, her voice warm and filled with that familiar accent. “I was starting to think you got cold feet.”

You laughed nervously…shrugging as she closed the distance between you. “I almost did.”

“Good thing you didn’t” she said her tone low as her gaze swept over you. “You look… incredible.”

Her eyes lingered and you felt heat rise to your cheeks. She didn’t try to hide it either, the way her gaze softened as if she couldn’t quite believe you were standing in front of her.

“Thanks” you murmured, fidgeting slightly. “I feel a little overdressed compared to the team though.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Trust me, they don’t matter. Tonight I only care about you.”

Her words made your heart stutter and before you could respond Nika reached out, her hand finding yours with an ease that felt so natural. Her touch was warm and steady, in a way that melted away some of your nerves.

“Come on” she said her thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “I’ll introduce you, but don’t worry…they’re going to love you.”

You let her lead you toward the table, the chatter of the Uconn basketball team growing louder as you approached. They were an intimidating group…athletic, confident, and clearly close…but the way Nika stayed close to you and her hand never leaving yours made you feel braver.

“This is Y/N” Nika announced, her voice filled with pride as she glanced back at you. “The one I haven’t shut up about.”

Her teammates erupted into a chorus of teasing remarks and knowing laughs and you felt your cheeks burn. Nika just grinned clearly unfazed, and leaned in closer to murmur “Don’t let them get to you. They’re just teasing assholes.”

You laughed softly finding her playful reassurance oddly comforting.

As the night went on you found yourself relaxing more and more. Nika made sure of it, never straying far from your side her hand often brushing against yours or settling on your back in a gesture that felt protective and affectionate.

Whenever you laughed at something that KK or Paige said or joined in on the banter, Nika would watch you with a look that made your heart flutter. It was as if she couldn’t quite believe you were here, as if every smile or laugh you gave was something she wanted to memorize.

As the night went on Nika eventually got up to grab another round of drinks for the you both, leaving you with her teammates. You watched her retreat to the bar, her effortless confidence making it hard to look away.

“Is she always like that?” you asked, gesturing toward her as she leaned against the counter.

“Like what?” Azzi asked.

“Charming, smooth, completely confident?”

Azzi laughed, nodding in agreement. “Oh, absolutely. She’s the worst” She joked her tone was full of affection.

Your smile widened but the moment was interrupted when a man approached your table uninvited.

“Hey” he said, his gaze fixed on you. “Mind if I join you?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, actually…”

“Come on” he interrupted, flashing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s just one drink.”

You glanced toward the bar, your chest tightening. Nika was still waiting for the bartender her back turned to the table.

“I’m here with someone” you said firmly.

The man didn’t seem to care, his grin widening. “They don’t seem to be paying much attention.”

Before you could respond a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“She’s with me.”

Nika was back.

Her tone was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it as she stepped between you and the man. She wasn’t smiling, her usually playful expression replaced with something far more serious.

The man held up his hands in mock surrender. “Relax…I was just talking to her.”

“Well, now you’re not” Nika said her voice steady and cold. “So move along.”

For a moment it looked like the man might argue but one glance at Nika’s stance… her height, her broad shoulders, the way her gaze dared him to test her…and he thought better of it. With a mumbled excuse he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Once he was gone, Nika turned to you, her expression softening instantly. “You okay?”

You nodded, though your heart was still racing…not from the man’s attention, but from the way Nika had handled it. There was something so steady, so protective in the way she had come to your side that it made you feel both reassured and slightly breathless.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Thanks.”

Nika’s jaw relaxed, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “No one bothers you while I’m here” she said, her voice low but full of meaning.

She slid back into her seat next to you angling her body so it was as though she was shielding you from the rest of the bar. Her hand found your knee, her fingers brushing against possessively.

“Did he say anything stupid?” she asked her tone light now though there was still an edge in her gaze.

“Not really” you admitted, smiling a little. “You scared him off before he got the chance.”

“Good” she said with a grin, leaning closer. “No one’s allowed to steal you away from me.”

Her words sent a pleasant warmth through your chest, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You’re a little over the top, you know that?”

“Maybe” she said, her grin widening as her fingers laced with yours under the table. “But I can’t help myself.”

The rest of the team didn’t press you for details about what had happened though you noticed a couple of them exchanging glances with Nika.

As the night wound down, the bar grew quieter and the team was thinning out as they began to head home. You and Nika were nestled in the corner of the booth, her arm was draped along the back of your seat.

Her teammates had all filtered out by now, each offering warm goodbyes and a few playful winks in Nika’s direction that made her roll her eyes but smile. By now it was just the two of you, the conversation flowing easily yet laced with the kind of nervous energy that made every glance and smile feel heavy with meaning.

When the bartender called for last call Nika looked at you, her smile soft and almost shy. “Do you, um… do you want to keep hanging out?”

You hesitated for a moment not because you didn’t want to, but because your pulse was thrumming with the realization that this felt like more than just a casual offer. “Where would we go?”

Her fingers brushed the edge of the table as she spoke her voice quieter now. “My place? We could… I don’t know, talk more. No pressure, though.”

Her gaze flickered to yours full of vulnerability that made your chest ache. It was clear she was trying to tread carefully, not wanting to push too hard or risk scaring you off.

“I’d like that” you said, your voice soft.

Her whole face lit up at your answer and she let out a small, relieved laugh. She stood slipping on her jacket before offering you your own. “Here, sweets” she murmured, holding it out for you. When you slid your arms into the sleeves, her hands lingered lightly on your shoulders for a moment before she stepped back.

The walk to her apartment was quiet but not awkward. Nika kept her hands shoved into her pockets, but as you both turned onto a quieter street her hand brushed yours. The small touch sent a thrill through you, and when she tentatively reached for your hand you gave it to her without hesitation.

She exhaled softly glancing over at you with a bashful smile. For the rest of the walk, you held onto each other, the silence between you filled with the sound of your footsteps and the faint hum of the city around you.

When you reached her apartment she paused at the door, turning to face you. “I just…before we go up I want to make sure you’re comfortable. If you change your mind at any point that’s totally fine.”

Her sincerity was disarming, and it made you feel safer than you expected. “I’m comfortable, Nika” you said softly.

She smiled, opening the door and leading you inside. Her apartment was cozy, with little touches that spoke to her personality…books piled neatly on the coffee table, a framed UConn jersey on the wall, and a pair of sneakers kicked off haphazardly by the door.

“It’s not much” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “But it’s home.”

You glanced around, taking in the warmth of the space, before looking back at her. “It’s perfect.”

Her cheeks flushed faintly and she gestured toward the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get us some water.”

As she disappeared into the kitchen you sank into the couch, your fingers fidgeting slightly with the edge of your sleeve. The reality of being here in her space, felt both exhilarating and nerve wracking.

When she returned with two glasses of water she handed one to you before sitting beside you, close enough that your knees brushed. For a moment, neither of you said anything the quiet between you heavy but not uncomfortable.

“I’m glad you came tonight, Y/N” she said finally, her voice soft.

“So am I” you replied, your heart pounding as you met her gaze.

Her eyes searched yours and she hesitated before reaching out, her fingers brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was so gentle, it made your breath hitch.

“I haven’t felt like this in a long time” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Like I can just… be myself with someone.”

Your chest tightened at her words, and you placed your hand over hers, letting your thumb trace lightly against her knuckles. “You’re too sweet” you said softly, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swelling inside you.

Her lips quirked into a small smile, her gaze dropping briefly to where your hands were joined. “I was nervous about tonight” she confessed. “Not about you….I mean, I was nervous about impressing you. But… this right now? It feels easy.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” you agreed, your voice barely audible.

She leaned in slightly, her forehead nearly brushing yours. “I don’t want to mess this up, baby” she murmured, her breath warm against your skin.

“You won’t” you promised, your words coming out steadier than you expected.

The two of you sat closely on the couch, the conversation started to flow again, soft and easy. Nika asked you questions that felt genuine…about your favorite books, your dreams, and even little things like your go to coffee order. She seemed to hang on your every word, her focus so strong it made you feel like the most important person in the world.

You found yourself opening up in ways you hadn’t expected…laughing softly as you shared embarrassing stories or pausing when the moment called for something deeper. And Nika listened. Really listened. Her responses were thoughtful and her laugh…god, her laugh it lit up the entire room.

At some point the conversation turned to basketball, and she told you about her first game at UConn, the pressure she’d felt and the joy of being part of something bigger. “But you know what made it worth it?” she asked, her voice soft as she glanced at you. “Moments like this. Meeting people who make me feel like all of it.”

Your cheeks warmed at her words and for a moment, you were at a loss for how to respond. But she didn’t press, just reached for your hand again, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture that felt grounding.

Time slipped away as the two of you talked, the outside world forgotten. It wasn’t until a yawn slipped past your lips that Nika glanced at the clock and let out a soft laugh.

“It’s late” she said her tone full of surprise. “I didn’t even realize.”

You followed her gaze to the clock and blinked. It was almost 2 a.m., and your stomach flipped at the realization of how long you’d been here. “I should probably go” you murmured, but the words felt heavier than you expected.

Nika’s hand tightened slightly around yours and for a moment, she didn’t say anything. Then her gaze flickered back to yours, hesitant. “You don’t have to” she said softly.

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

She shifted her hand still holding yours, as she spoke. “I mean… stay. For the night. I don’t want you walking home this late and I’d feel better knowing you’re safe here with me.”

Her words were tentative as though she was testing the waters, but the sincerity in her tone left doubt.

“I wouldn’t want to intrude” you said softly, though your heart was racing at the thought of staying.

“You wouldn’t be, I promise” Nika assured you quickly. Her voice was calm but full of sincerity. “Really, Y/N. I’d like it if you stayed. No pressure just… if you’re comfortable.”

Her gaze searched yours and the vulnerability in her expression made your chest ache. She wasn’t pushing… she was simply offering, her intentions were clear.

After a moment you nodded. “Okay, yeah I’ll stay” you said softly.

Her smile widened and she let out a small, relieved breath. “Okay” she echoed.

She stood then, her hand slipping from yours as she moved toward the hallway. “I’ll grab you something to wear…something more comfortable than… well, this.” She gestured playfully at your current outfit and you couldn’t help but laugh.

A few minutes later, she handed you a soft, oversized sweatshirt…her sweatshirt…and a pair of shorts that looked equally cozy. “Bathroom’s just down the hall” she said, her tone light but her gaze lingering on you like she didn’t want to let you out of her sight.

When you stepped out of the bathroom wearing Nika’s clothes you felt both comfortable and giddy. The fabric was soft against your skin but it smelled distinctly like her…warm, clean, and subtly intoxicating.

Nika’s door was slightly open, you knocked lightly and peeked in she looked up from where she was sitting on the bed, scrolling on her phone. Her reaction was instant.

Her eyes widened slightly as they roamed over you taking in the sight of her clothes on your frame. A slow lopsided grin spread across her face, making your cheeks heat up. “Wow” she said softly setting her phone down.

“What?” you asked, shifting under her gaze.

She shook her head, her grin turning into a smirk as she leaned back on her hands. “You look hot” she admitted, her tone casual but her eyes saying something else entirely. “Really hot. Like, too hot for my old sweatshirt.”

You laughed nervously, tugging at the hem of the sweatshirt. “It’s comfy. And it smells like you.” The words escaped before you could stop them and your face burned.

Nika’s expression softened, her smirk turning into a tender smile. “That’s a good thing, right?” she asked her voice quieter now.

You nodded, your heart fluttering in your chest. “Yeah…It’s a really good.”

She stood, closing the small distance between you and leaning her shoulder against the doorframe her eyes never leaving yours. “You know” she said softly, a playful edge creeping into her voice. “I think I might need to make you your own collection of Nika approved loungewear. You’re making this look unfairly good.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide your smile. “Stopppp” you muttered, brushing past her into the room.

Nika giggled before her demeanor changed “So” she said hesitating slightly, her hands fidgeting. “The couch is all set up but… if you’d rather not sleep out there alone, you can… um…” Her voice trailed off her cheeks coloring faintly.

You blinked, your heart stuttering as you realized what she was suggesting. “Are you sure?”

She nodded quickly her smile a little nervous but genuine. “Yeah, I’m sure. I just thought…I mean, it’s totally up to you, but…” She exhaled softly, giving you a tentative look. “I’d like it if you stayed with me.”

Your chest tightened at her words and despite the nerves bubbling up inside you, you found yourself nodding. “Okay, I’ll stay with you.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

You slid under the covers, your heart pounding as Nika joined you, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. She turned to face you her expression shy and warmth. “You okay?” she asked softly, her voice low in the already quiet room.

You nodded though your breath hitched as her knee brushed against yours under the blanket. “Yeah, I’m perfect” you murmured.

For a moment neither of you said anything…then as if drawn by some force, Nika reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against yours.

Her touch was tentative, but you didn’t pull away…instead you shifted closer, your knees brushing again as your breath mingled in the small space between you.

“Y/N” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?”

Her eyes softened, and she gave you a small nervous smile. “Can I…”

Before she could finish, you nodded your heart racing as you leaned in just enough to close the space between you.

Her lips met yours gently at first, the kiss soft. But as your hand moved to rest against her cheek, she deepened it slightly her confidence growing as she tilted her head to capture your lips more fully.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against hers, both of you breathing softly in the quiet of the room.

“I’ve wanted to do that all night.” she admitted her voice so soft it sent a shiver down your spine.

You smiled your heart swelling as you looked into her eyes. “Me too, baby ” you whispered.

Her lips curved into a grin, and she let out a soft laugh her thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “Guess we’ve got that out of the way now.” she teased gently.

You laughed softly feeling a warmth settle in your chest as you nestled closer to her, your head resting on her shoulder. As her arm wrapped around you, pulling you close and you allowed yourself to breathe her in… the steady rise and fall of her chest grounding you.

In the quiet of the room with Nika’s heartbeat against your ear, you smiled to yourself. Feeling giddy and impossibly lucky, if someone had told you that putting on a shirt with Mühl printed across the back would end with you in her arms, you wouldn’t have believed it.

#ncaa wbb #nika muhl #nika muhl x reader #paige bueckers x reader #caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #wbb x reader #caitlin x reader #ncaa women’s basketball #paige buckets #kate martin x reader #seattle storm #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #nika x reader #wnba x reader #wnba basketball #paige bueckers

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doudouma · 11 months ago

Note

Heyo! I'd like to request a top three upper moon x s/o! Reader who is kind of mad at them and refuses to cuddle them (but ends up the one cuddling when they thought that they fell asleep- which they didn't.)

“wait, i thought you were sleeping?!”

upper3 reaction to you cuddling them but you’re angry! _______________________________________________

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

you’re upset at the upper moon trio (separate), but you cuddle them when you thought they fell asleep〜

there are no warnings, my dear lotus.

↑ (reader spooning character, if you’re worried about that.)

reader is gender neutral.❀ 〜

a/n : for some reason, i couldn’t comprehend this request. after all, it was late at night〜apologies my lotus, this request is cute！

！anon, i want to apologize to you. right when i finished writing, i reread the request and realized i slightly misunderstood it, and i do not know how to fix it. i decided to post it anyways. m(_ _)m

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

kokushibo

kokushibo.. your straight-forward silent lover…

he knows why you could potentially be upset, but doesn’t see the purpose of being upset about it.

you were upset at something that happened earlier, and tried to ask for a solution from your beloved〜

he gave you your answer, alright.. but he worded it in a way that might’ve made it seem like it was your fault on what happened.

he didn’t try to! he just tried to get you to realize where exactly it went wrong.

now… he’s just waiting in anticipation for your response.

but instead, you just sit there just trying to pinpoint what his goal in mind was. looking a more upset than before.

forgetting it all, you end up heading to bed, attempting to just relax.

drifting off to sleep (if you’re able to sleep), you suddenly remember that your lover didn’t join you to bed. will a small disagreement split the two of you up into separate rooms tonight?

your eyes quickly widen and see that kokushibo is there, but with his back facing you.

when did he even get in here?! it looks like he’s been here for a minute too. sneaky uppermoon one…

now that you’re relieved, you move closer to him, and place your arm around him to his heart♡

he slightly smiles, only smiles. eventually he tells you as he rest his eyes..

“i apologize for the way i initially communicated with you. we may talk this out tomorrow, with less misunderstandings, (name).”

douma

douma wouldn’t understand why you’re mad at him!

teasing is just his nature! no matter how harsh it is, to him, he’s only speaking out of love.

which he is, but.. he doesn’t consider that other people could find it offensive or annoying.

he’ll listen when you voice your opinion on his absurd way of showing love, but, it’ll only result in more teasing〜

eventually, you get too fed up with his cockiness and foul teasing to the point where you just go to bed! without him!

even while upset at your love, you do fairly want him by your side, even if he is being a little s- -

- -so like i said, he wouldn’t fully understand on why you’re upset, so he’s not giving you any personal space.

therefore, he ends up joining you in bed〜

in bed where it feels like forever, with the both of you facing opposite ways.

you silently look over, and to what it seems like he’s “sleeping”.

soon enough you flip over and spoon him, while a smirk appears on doumas face, as he places his hand on top of yours♡

somehow in a span of three seconds, now he’s spooning you, hugging you while saying,

“oh, my love! i knew you couldn’t stay mad at me for too long〜 oh how much i’ve missed you♡”

akaza

akaza is aware of where this all went wrong, but in his brain (if demons have one atp) he just tried to help.

today was just not the day for you.

maybe someone was being annoying, you lost a fight, woke up on the wrong side of the bed, who knows.

whatever happened, akaza was determined to fix it, because he only wants his lover to be happy!

but… you just wanted to be alone. sometimes alone time is all you need〜

but akaza kept bringing you things you like, kept staying near you, and kept asking if everything was alright♡

you accepted his kindness and offers, but you genuinely just wanted to be alone to recharge, but your lover being persistent as he is only made you feel more annoyed.

you expressed that, but he just kept following you like a lost puppy!

in due time, you end up vaguely telling off akaza for “pestering” you and how you just had a awful day.

he stands there, with a blanket and pillow in his hand, not saying a word as you walk off to bed… and he follows you.

he tucks both of you to bed, and you both lay there facing opposite ways.

you lay there, thinking over your day. you shortly realize that akaza was there for you even at your lowest, but you didn’t see it because you were already upset.

you turn around, and swiftly spoon the “sleeping” akaza, holding his hand〜

he lets out a little chuckle and caresses your hand to tell you,

“i’m sorry for ruining your day even further. but i’m glad to be here for you now. sometimes just a hug is all you need, my love.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

besides me accidentally messing this up, the request was fun to write! i’m trying to dive into other fandoms and post more often. i look forward into having your support, my precious flowers.❀ 〜

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redtsundere-writes · 4 months ago

Text

Part 16: Before Night Falls

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 8415 words.

A/N: So... I have been rereading the fic, and it needs a lot of upgrading when it comes to correcting, so I'll take next week to edit the English version of this fic and then continue uploading of Friday, September 20th. Sorry for the inconveniences.

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

“My almighty king, I bow before you to beg you to let me leave the castle,” you asked between tears.

“What?” Sukuna, Uraume and Kenjaku answered in unison out of shock.

Sukuna heard you, but he didn't understand what the hell you were trying to tell him. You had dedicated a year of your life to serve him, just killed someone for him, and now you wanted to leave the castle? After he had given you everything to keep you happy and prevent this exact situation. 3 substantial meals a day, a giant room with a comfortable bed, beautiful dresses, fine jewelry, a broad education and a life safe from curses. You must be out of your mind. Besides the fact that you were about to become one of the most powerful women in the world, why did you want to leave now after all? The king had never been so offended in his life.

“I have two more sisters. Nanako and Mimiko. They are barely 11 years old and they are completely alone because Yorozu killed our mother,” you explained to the king with your face hidden between the curtains of your hair and his bleeding hands. “I just want to go home to make sure they are okay. You can ask Kenjaku, Uraume or some curse to escort me. I promise to return before the sun sets,” you whimpered for mercy once again.

That sharp pain kept sprouting from his chest. That strange pang was different from the others he had experienced before. His throat was closing, so he couldn't answer you immediately. He twisted his face in an attempt to regain control of his own body. He clenched his hand in frustration at not being able to correct himself to deny any request you had out of anger, but he couldn't. “What the hell is happening to me?” he thought, annoyed.

In the absence of an answer, you crawled to his feet in the most desperate attempt to convince him at all costs. The mere thought of your little sisters being there alone was eating you alive with helplessness. You were about to play any card you had available to try to convince him. The king was going to accept, whether he liked it or not. After all, it wasn’t going to be an easy task after challenging him in front of everyone, so you would do anything for an opportunity. Unable to hold his feet because of the dirt on his hands, you kissed them delicately to show him that you were still faithful to him. You closed your eyes so as not to think too much about the shame you were going through. You transported yourself to that passionate night you shared in order to relieve your strong repulsion.

The king's face went from an angry red to a deeper, shy red. His body tensed with each gentle kiss you gave him on the back of his head. Little pricks of love that erased his anger. No one had reached that level of voluntary idolatry before. He never thought he'd see you embarrass yourself like that in front of everyone just to fulfill a relatively reasonable request.

“I'll kill as many as it takes to give me that chance, please. They're all I have left,” you whimpered, placing your forehead between his feet.

“Get up,” he ordered, annoyed.

You quickly complied as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand to avoid getting more blood on your face. You didn't look him in the eyes for fear that he would reject your request immediately, it was the last thing you wanted to hear, even though he had every right to do so after threatening him with an arrow that he himself had given you. Still, you couldn't allow yourself to lose the little hope you had. You didn't deserve him to do you that favor, much less to be alive, but you had to try.

"Let me see your hands," he asked you.

You gave them to him trembling for fear of what he would do to you next, expecting a clear punishment. Sukuna turned them over to see the state of your palms. They were completely split in half, blood gushing out every time you squeezed the surrounding skin, and you began to lose feeling. They were practically ruined, it would take months to return to normal. You wouldn't be surprised in the least if he cut them off for your terrible behavior. You looked away, not wanting to see what terrible thing he had planned for you.

“You are very brave to do something stupid like that,” Sukuna said before taking your hands to examine them, being as gentle as possible so as not to hurt you more.

You were going to answer, but something in your hand moved. The parallel wounds began to close slowly in front of your incredulous eyes. The skin folds joined with their equal as if by magic. In less than a minute, your hands had returned to normal. You opened and closed your fist in front of you to make sure you weren't hallucinating from the intense pain. “Since when can he do that?” you thought, confused.

“You did that?” You wondered, still in shock, upon learning that the killing machine was also capable of healing as well.

“It's a simple reverse curse technique,” he explained. “It processes cursed energy, which is negative by nature, into positive energy. As a result, the energy that destroys, becomes the energy that creates and heals.”

“Wow…” You sighed, amazed. You didn't know that he was capable of healing people the same way he hurts them.

“Go change, you look terrible,” Sukuna ordered you before taking Yorozu's head from the ground, handing it to Uraume to take care of it and the rest of his body that continued to stain the grass of the courtyard while you talked.

“What about my request? I really need…” You asked, begging for permission to leave the castle.

“And you're going to go see your sisters in your underwear, with smeared makeup and bathed in their other sister's blood? You're going to traumatize them,” Sukuna interrupted to scold you. “I'm going to escort you. You have 20 minutes to be at the entrance before I change my mind.” He turned around to continue along the bridge towards the entrance.

“Yes, my king. I won’t take long.” You smiled widely.

Sukuna turned around to let you return to the castle, but stopped when he felt your arms around his waist. His body subtly melted as soon as you pressed him against your warmth. Your hands on his stomach caressed his second mouth softly, while your forehead connected with the middle of his spine. A brief gesture that calmed the pain in his chest, undid the lump in his throat, and relaxed his face finally. The king's mind short-circuited as he didn't know what to do in that situation. Take your hands, caress them, push you away so you would leave, kill you? There were many options, but none seemed to be the right one.

"Thank you, my king," you whispered before letting go.

Your hands moved away from him, and he returned to the cold he had already grown accustomed to after hundreds of years in solitude. Sukuna slowly turned his gaze towards you to see you running towards the castle again, lifting your bottom to avoid tripping over the fabric. That contagious emotion placed a small smile on his face. It seemed that everything had returned to normal.

"Uraume, you already know what to do with the body," Sukuna ordered them to leave with the head of his ex-sister-in-law. Seeing her finally dead also brought him great relief.

"Yes, my king," Uraume nodded before disappearing from his sight. Sukuna was about to continue on his way, but he saw Kenjaku smiling from ear to ear with no intention of hiding it.

"What?" He asked him, somewhat annoyed by his strange expression.

“It seems like you are going on a date,” Kenjaku told him as he followed the king towards the entrance.

“It is not a date,” Sukuna scolded him. “We will go check and return before sunset.”

“But do you really have to go? You have a lot of paperwork to do. You could have easily ordered me to accompany her,” Kenjaku argued.

“It will take twice as long if you escort her. Besides, I don’t trust you enough to let her leave the castle with you,” the king answered honestly.

After Kenjaku betrayed King Jogo to serve him, he didn’t trust him enough to leave his future queen in his hands without any means of survival. He had yet to figure out what Kenjaku wanted from him specifically, and it was certainly not anything good.

“So, you won’t take this opportunity to propose to her?” Kenjaku inquired curiously. Sukuna didn't even bother to answer him. "You two alone, in the middle of the open field, the sunset behind you... You would be a real fool if you didn't." Sukuna stopped in the middle of the road and glared at him. "I was just saying it would be a good idea." Kenjaku excused himself.

"Mind your damn business!" The king exploded, continuing on his way, not paying him any more attention.

Kenjaku stepped back, raising his arms in surrender when he saw that he had disturbed him. Sukuna growled under his breath before heading to their meeting point. Your tutor stepped back, covering his face with the sleeve of his long wardrobe, pretending to be terrified of the king to satisfy his intention. "Oh, young lady, you'll need all the luck in the world with a husband like this," he thought.

Your legs moved on their own to get to the castle as soon as possible, you entered to go to your room, but stopped when you saw a large obstacle in your way. Your eyes widened as you took in the small crowd that had formed to greet you. All the servants applauded you proudly for the brave battle you had fought against the common enemy. Your feelings were mixed at receiving such warmth for such a cold act. Mrs. Inoue appeared among the servants to tearfully embrace you.

“You scared me to death, miss!” Mrs. Inoue scolded you, pressing you against her body roughly, as if she didn't want to let you go.

A small smile of happiness for having survived your sister's attack appeared on your face before you returned the hug with the same intensity. Even though you were in mourning, you were pleased that you hadn't involved any innocents in your dealings with the king. Even though all the old people had less time to live, that didn't mean you could deprive them of enjoying them. You gently pushed Mrs. Inoue away. You couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

“I must change. The king is waiting for me,” You tried to excuse yourself, but one of the servants took your arm so you wouldn't leave.

“Then put this on,” she offered you one of Yorozu's dresses.

The fabric was smooth and stretchy, it had a large ribbon at the waist for easy closure, and best of all, it had pockets. You were seriously starting to consider starting to wear those instead of the dresses that were too formal for everyday wear. You agreed without a second thought, it would save you a lot of time. The maid called for the others to hurry up and help you. With everyone's help, they quickly dressed you, fixed your battle-messed hairstyle, and cleaned your face with a slightly wet sponge.

"Oops, I ruined your makeup." Mrs. Inoue covered her face in embarrassment.

"Don't worry, it was already ruined." You replied with a friendly smile before another maid showed you the result with a hand mirror. It wasn't ideal to have the dark circles under your eyes from the terrible night before, but since there was no time for a touch-up. "Thank you all for your support. I’ll be back soon,” you thanked them with a bow before running out to the entrance as the servants waved goodbye to you.

Sukuna sighed as he finally saw you running towards him to begin the journey. You stopped in front of your king, your breath coming in short gasps from crossing the long courtyard and the drawbridge to him. With a different dress, not a drop of makeup and without all the blood, you went from looking like a warrior queen to a decent woman in a matter of minutes. Sukuna quickly noticed your purple dark circles from not sleeping well due to worry. It was a small reminder that despite looking different from everyone else, you were still just like everyone else.

“Where are we headed?” Sukuna asked you.

“To the human commune,” you replied. “Passing the hill, there are several cabins. Just follow the paths.” You pointed towards the horizon.

Passing the scary land taken over by the curses, the large green valley that belonged to the humans began. The human commune was something that Sukuna and all the curses know exists, but it is usually an area well protected by men, a difficult area to hunt. Even though Sukuna could easily invade the area to kill them all, it didn’t suit him at all. Even though the curses follow him faithfully because of his immense power, it is also because he keeps them well-fed. If he killed the commune in one blow, the curses would look for food in other lands and probably start a war against the sorcerers without being ready yet. The commune was like his personal chicken coop, why kill the chicken when it can lay eggs?

“Let’s go there then.” Sukuna crouched down in front of you, arms back, ready to carry you.

“What are you doing?” You analyzed his stance, curious as to why he was almost leaning towards you.

“It’ll be faster if I carry you on my back,” he explained. “So get on, now,” he commanded, losing patience from the embarrassment of being in that position.

You nodded obediently. You didn’t know how you were supposed to get on his big back. You were the one who always carried the others, so you had no idea what to do when someone else had to carry you. You jumped onto his back clumsily to reach out to hug him around the neck. Sukuna stood up suddenly, leaving your feet skidding in the air. With the help of his lower back, he pulled you up a little higher to better support you by the thighs. Your cheeks flushed as you felt his thumb caress your skin.

“Hold on tight and close your eyes, we’ll be there in no time,” Sukuna smiled confidently at his great speed.

You held onto his shoulders tightly and closed your eyes, hiding your face in the back of his neck as you got drunk on his strong cologne. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt your warm breath against his exposed skin. He shook his head to focus on the road. He didn’t want to waste too much time searching for your sisters, it was preferable if they returned before dinner. He pressed your thighs tightly against his body, leaving a light mark on you, before running off to the commune.

You screamed at the sky when you felt the huge difference in speed. Sukuna laughed at your adorable reaction as he ran like a bullet without brakes between the cobblestone streets, secret alleys and the occasional roof between the abundant buildings. Your heart accelerated at the same time as the large feet of your carriage did. The fabrics of their clothes fluttered against the wind as they reached the commune as soon as possible. Sukuna jumped over the wall that separated the town from the commune and finally fell on the green grass that separated the two worlds, without the slightest concern for scaring any poor human who was around. Sukuna continued running until he reached the center of the commune.

The owner of the cabin closest to the wall panicked when he saw the king running towards the commune. He ran terrified to the control tower to ring the bells that announced the possible attack of a curse. The neighbors, hearing the frightening warning, suddenly became agitated and ran to their homes to safeguard their lives in the best way they knew how, hiding. Sukuna reached the epicenter of the commune, watching as everyone greeted him with cries for help as they fled from him like cockroaches from the light.

“We have arrived,” Sukuna announced before letting you get off his back.

You staggered against your weight due to dizziness, falling to the ground in a sit-down. You held your head to make sure you were clear about where you were. You looked at the surrounding cabins, the stunned gazes of those who were your neighbors peeking out from between the curtains. You were sure they were wondering why you had brought the king of curses himself to his safe place, but there was no time to explain anything. You had to find your sisters.

You got up again to run towards your home. “Where are they?” You wondered in panic as your legs moved as fast as they could towards the furthest cabin of all. Your father had built it for your mother when they got married, far away from everyone, because your mother hated the neighbors but loved your father, so she moved with him to his hometown. “Where are they?” You looked around, anxious, searching for your sisters in any possible place they could be. “Where are they?!” Your mind roared in search of answers, praying that your little sisters were okay. A nostalgic smile crept onto your face as you reached the entrance of your old home.

“Nanako! Mimiko!” You burst through the door, breaking it because of the worn nails.

You called out to them over and over as you inspected the cabin, your heart in your hand in worry. Where there used to be a large table for everyone to eat together, a large kitchen with cooking utensils, and an armchair to hang out on, now there wasn't even a shabby rug. It was like looking at a dark, dirty blank canvas. The humidity was breathable, cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and field rats squeaked from their hiding places in the few pieces of wooden furniture that remained.

You ran to what used to be the room you shared with your sisters. The closet was empty, the curtains were full of dust, and the bed was bare. Not even the blanket their grandmother had given them was there anymore. All there was a small white envelope. You opened it carefully so as not to accidentally tear it between the trembling of your clumsy hands. Seeing who had written the letter, a tear escaped from your eyes.

“Dear sisters,

I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, but if you do, it means we’re not here to welcome you. We hate living here, we always had, so we made the decision to leave since we didn’t have anyone else with us. I don’t know where we’ll go, but it will be far from the curses. I hope you don’t get mad at us for leaving, and we can meet again soon.

Lots of love, Nanako and Mimiko”

You held the letter to your chest as you sobbed softly, as this was the only physical reminder of your dear little sisters. They might appear strong in their words, but you knew they were surely terrified. They were facing a completely unknown world, far from the only terrible nation they knew. You knew the journey to human lands was long, but not impossible.

You weren't sure you could bear all the pain you had felt in one day. Carrying the mourning of your mother, the guilt of having murdered your own sister and the helplessness of not being able to do anything for your little sisters would lead to your end. Family was what mattered most, but all of that had been destroyed in less than a day. The house of your memories had burned completely, impregnating you with the smell of smoke for the rest of your life.

“I knew you were joking,” Sukuna mentioned behind you, examining the cabin’s filth with curiosity.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, confused, wiping away the hundredth tear of the day.

“What you said to Yorozu. ‘If I could go back to my quiet country life, I would in a heartbeat.’” Sukuna quoted what you said to your sister moments before killing her, entering the room. “Who in their right mind would trade a life of luxury for a filthy pigsty like this?”

The king scoffed at your stupidity. He walked around the room like it belonged to him completely, even though he had never slept on the hard bed, felt the cold floor with his bare feet, or eaten on the floor due to the lack of chairs. This place was so ugly that he wouldn’t even let his servants sleep there.

“It's not about the cabin, but what was in it,” you explained, fiddling with the envelope. “I was talking about my family, or at least, the one I used to have.”

The bed creaked as it supported the king's weight when he sat on it to take a little break after the tour. Being the same height now, he noticed your sad eyes and the small envelope you were holding tightly. Quickly, he deduced that your sisters had run away from home.

“I can order a search to find them,” Sukuna proposed, but you immediately rejected the offer.

“It's pointless. If they left on the day of the harvest, they must already be in some other kingdom,” you explained your hypothesis as you put the letter in one of the pockets in your dress. “It will sound selfish, but I prefer to think that they are fine than to look for them only to be told that some curse trapped them,” you said guiltily.

“Live happily in ignorance?” Sukuna asked you with disdain.

“I can’t deal with two more deaths, I just… it’s too much,” you said before cowardly leaving the room to drop the topic.

Sukuna looked at you confused, but that inexplicable feeling in his chest came back. He was starting to get frustrated, not knowing exactly what it was. He shouldn’t have heart problems when using his reverse curse technique, Kenjaku thought nothing was happening to him, and it didn’t happen regularly. That discomfort was driving him crazy, as if it were an occasional migraine.

The soft wind greeted you as soon as you stepped out into the yard. You passed the sink and the clothesline to slowly approach the small family cemetery. Your father's small grave was neglected but intact, while your mother's had the earth turned upside down after someone dug there. “They didn't bury her well” you thought, disappointed to see that your mother's corpse had been stolen, it was probably some curse to eat her as a midnight snack.

“Hi…” You greeted your father timidly. “The family split up, and I wasn't there to stop it,” you said as your lower lip trembled.

You hugged yourself to stop yourself from crying again. Your eyes were already fed up, they didn't want to regret the whole situation for the tenth time that day. Biting your lower lip hard, you tried to take your sensitivity by the horns. You were about to give up when Sukuna's hands took possession of your shoulders.

“Your parents?” Sukuna inquired when he saw what he was looking at.

“Yes.” Your throat cleared before answering. “My little sisters didn't build a coffin, so a curse must have eaten our mother,” you added, holding your breath to keep yourself out of the way.

“I don't understand why they cling so much to keeping bodies,” Sukuna said with annoyance. “They're just a nuisance.”

“Because humans are selfish,” you answered with some annoyance. Sukuna raised his eyebrow when he noticed your change of attitude. “Even though we know they're no longer with us, we want to have them close. The soul leaves, but the body is the only thing that stays with us,” you explained.

“Anyway, it's stupid. The body doesn't stay either. It ends up rotting when it could have been the food for a curse,” Sukuna argued. You sighed heavily.

This was really the last thing you needed in your time of mourning. Your sadness turned to anger in an instant. You weren't surprised at all that he acted so indifferent to the situation, but you wished he would at least shut up so you could go through your mourning in peace. You tried to keep your anger to yourself, but it didn't stop you from blurting out,

“Of course you wouldn't understand, you don't have a family.”

Silence invaded the moment. A chill ran down your spine, reminding you of who you were talking to. Your eyes widened as you realized the horrible comment that had escaped your lips. You looked up, thinking he would be looking at you with contempt, but you were met with his monotonous face. That scared you even more.

“I had a family,” he answered before walking away from you to leave you alone for a while.

That answer left you stunned in your place. Curses had been a true mystery for much of your life until Kenjaku came to explain everything you needed to know. These strange creatures are a race of spiritual beings invisible to most humans, incarnated from the cursed energy that escapes from humans over time due to their negative emotions. How can a curse have a family?

A new guilt began to torture your chest. After watching him walk away from you to climb the next hill, you decided to follow him to apologize, it was the least you could do. You apologized and gave your father a final bow of respect for the last time to reach the king.

"I'm sorry, I…" You tried to tell him when you reached him.

"I still remember the face of the one who used to be my mother." Sukuna completely interrupted you as he continued walking the path to the top. "She was a beautiful woman."

Sukuna, before waking up in the nightmare he had transformed into, remembered his past life almost perfectly. He had a mother who was ashamed of him, a violent father, and a twin brother he never met because he ate him in the womb. He had been born with the blessing of having power worthy of a god but with the curse of being a complete disgrace. An evil being that had no way to be fixed. A lonely child who became a sorcerer with black blood. A man thirsty to destroy everything that stood in his way. He may have disappointed many people, but never himself.

“I didn't know that…” You stuttered upon hearing about his sad past.

“Not even Uraume knows,” you confessed.

“Really?” You asked, stupefied.

“You're the only one who knows now,” Sukuna looked at you. “You've earned it after what you did for me today.”

“I didn't kill my sister for you. I did it for myself,” you answered honestly. Sukuna stopped in the middle of the road, shocked by the direct confession. “My sister not only betrayed me, but also the family I had left.”

“Why do you care so much about your family?” Sukuna held his forehead, exasperated by hearing you repeat that word. “Your father was weak, your mother sold you, Yorozu betrayed you and your other sisters abandoned you,” Sukuna asked you.

“Because I love them anyway.”

The king's lips parted slightly upon hearing that. There was no logic behind that answer. There was not a gram of reason. He had no legs or head, but he still managed to surprise him. How could you love such a broken family?

“That doesn't make sense,” Sukuna replied incredulously.

“Love doesn't need to make sense.”

The pain in his chest turned into a flutter of thousands of butterflies. A simple phrase made his cheeks feel hot, his hands sweaty, and he felt the need to cover his shame. A simple phrase made him feel an inexplicable hope that he didn't think he needed.

You looked up, you were almost at the top. You had climbed so high that it would be a shame to have to go down when you were so close. Since your sisters weren't there to run with you to see the sunset for one last time, maybe you could do it with someone new.

“Follow me, just this once,” you asked before taking one of Sukuna's arms.

He let himself be led by your guide to continue walking the path they still had to travel. They reached the top of the slope, where there was a large rock positioned perfectly to admire the rest of the valley and the human commune. The rainbow sunset, the small cabins, the leafy trees and the distant night worked in harmony like a beautiful piece of art. It was a simple sight but beautiful in its own splendor. They sat on the rock as if they were waiting for something. Maybe they were just wasting time until the sun set to return to the castle, as you had promised.

“My sisters and I used to come here every day. There isn’t much to do in the commune, so having this view is a small blessing,” you commented to the king as you watched the humans emerge from their huts, wondering if the threat had left. “What did you like to do when you were younger?” you asked.

“I didn’t have a good childhood,” the king answered honestly.

“But at least there must be something nice that you remember,” you answered curiously. Sukuna thought for a moment.

In fact, there was something he remembered. On the outskirts of the poor village where he used to live, there was a large forest that hid the most beautiful flowers he had ever seen. He didn’t know their names or what they meant, but he didn’t need to know to admire their delicacy. Their different bright colors, soft fragrance, and unique designs caught his attention. He caressed their petals, afraid of cutting them if he didn’t do it properly. A simple but welcoming and delicate touch brought him peace. Sometimes he came across a bee or two that brightened his view with their plump and fluffy bodies. The flowers were the only thing he didn't want to destroy in gratitude for never judging him.

"When I had access to all the books, I learned that if you arrange certain flowers with others they can have different meanings," Sukuna explained as he put his hand in his pants pocket, squeezing the box he had saved for that moment.

He hated to admit it, but Kenjaku was right. This was the perfect opportunity to propose to you. The great view of your homeland that merges with the land he leads, was a beautiful symbolism. They were completely alone, without any humans or curses lurking in their affairs. The golden hour was almost over, so it was now or never.

"You know? You remind me of daisies. They usually symbolize innocence, joy and purity, and you are all of those things," he explained as he looked at the horizon while he gathered courage to look you in the eyes after saying that with his cheeks flushed. “Sometimes they are hard to read because they come in many colors and the real meaning depends on this, but that's not important…” He was so nervous that he was starting to get off-topic. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

Wait, why was he so nervous? Sukuna never got nervous, he was always ready for whatever he was faced with. A battle against a powerful sorcerer? A piece of cake. Ordering his troops in complicated strategies? An everyday occurrence. Declaring war against humanity? The dream. Proposing? It made his hair stand on end. He couldn't believe he felt his heart beating at the possible response of his prospective wife. He was sure she would accept him, she had already done it once, he had to do it... Right?

“What really matters about daisies is knowing how many there are in a bouquet. If there are less than 3, it means friendship. If there are more than 6, it means pure love.” Sukuna stopped at that word.

He had read about it in endless poems, and it was a concept he knew existed, but he didn't fully understand it. He didn't know how it began or how it ended. It was complicated, unknown and could become problematic. For some reason, humans are fascinated with the wonderful idea that love knows no bounds. They lived for it, endured for it, and would even die for it. Sukuna was sure you would too, but him?

“What I mean is that I would give you all the daisies in the world.”

Your head rested on his arm, startling him a little. Finally, he worked up the courage to look at you and couldn’t believe it. You were completely asleep. Your softly closed eyes, your slow breathing, and your lack of posture were a clear sign that you had been sleeping while he was giving the corniest speech of his life. He wanted to be mad at you. He wanted to shake you awake. He wanted to throw the box with the ring in your face, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even frown.

He covered you from the little sun that was left of the day with one hand, while the other caressed your peach fuzzy skin with all the care in the world so as not to wake you up. He was mesmerized by the way you breathed, the length of your eyelashes, your hair swinging against the soft wind, your hands resting on your lap and your lips slightly parted by gravity. You had had a long day, and you hadn't slept the night before, it was understandable that you were tired and just wanted to sleep to forget about the tragedies. Maybe this wasn't the time to propose.

The sun finally set behind the distant mountains, turning off the light completely. It was time to go home, but Sukuna wanted to stay there for the rest of his life. Chatting during the day, admiring you at night, and dreaming in his free time. Sukuna sighed as he realized why his chest had been acting so weird lately.

“Fucking hell,” he whispered, low enough to not wake you up. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Open fanfic commissions!

Masterlist.

Taglist: @bbnbhm @pxnellian @kbirdieee2540 @konigswifeyforlifey @kyo-kyo1 @calico-cheriies @imas1mpp @alone-the-honoured-one @vlads-dracula3 @bigraga-sk @nekee-lilac02 @shaazd @airandyeah @energiepie @awkward-walking-potato @delightfully-studying

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gentrychild · 1 year ago

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An anon who was rereading Anyone asked me what would have happened if Izuku didn't like eggs and how you tell a supervillain you don't like what he made and that you want something. I have bravely tried to answer said ask but Tumblr laughed at my pain, so here is it, on a new post.

------------------------

When confronted with the super villain Izuku had accidentally broken out of the most secured prison in the country, a man who had basically walked out of said prison as soon as he hadn’t been restrained anymore, Izuku did the only thing any rational person would do.

He ran like hell. No shoes, no plan, nothing except Full Cowl roaring in his veins and he fled.

At least, he tried to.

Strong tendrils stopped him dead, then hands picked him up by his shoulders and suddenly, his feet weren't touching the ground and he was forcibly brought to the kitchen table.

''No, no, no,'' All for One said with the tone one would employ with a disobedient pet or a very young child. ''Your breakfast is going to get cold and we have so much to talk about. Sit. Enjoy the eggs. If you don't like them, I can make something else.''

And he dropped him on his chair, before putting the plate in front of him. Then, he sat at the other end of the table, facing Izuku, his own plate in front of him and he started to eat. Slowly, his manners perfect, while Izuku was dying of sheer stress over there.

Then, he looked at Izuku. Then at Izuku's plate.

''You're not eating?''

Izuku looked at the man who had literally reduced people to paste last night and then at his plate of eggs and bacon, then back at the lunatic who was probably going to skin him alive soon enough. He needed to do something, to get the time to find a way out of this mess.

Now, any reasonable human being would have eaten a bit of eggs and bacon – well, eaten the bacon in Izuku’s case – but he had just woken up, was in a pre-caffeinated state and truly, Izuku had never claimed to have the slightest working relationship with sanity.

“I don’t like eggs,” he blurted out.

The supervillain, the very same man who had literally gone through a prison riot of fellow villains like he was running through wet paper, was startled so badly by those four words that he dropped his fork.

“What do you mean, you don’t like eggs???” he asked like this was a ludicrous notion, like everyone’s favorite breakfast should be eggs and bacon.

“Never liked them,” Izuku lied, by pure spirit of contradiction, far more developed than for most people, for it had been left with quite the amount of room after the disappearance of all his survival instinct.

And it was indeed a lie because, once upon a time, it had been his favorite comfort food, but when he had been a kid, during one of those weeks where his mom was gone and the neighbor supposed to watch over him was busy forgetting his existence, he had gorged himself on it at every meal until he had gotten so sick of it that he had been unable to eat them ever again.

All for One watched him with something that went beyond annoyance, it was the patented look of someone who knew one was messing with him and the words “You’re a goddamn liar” were probably fighting to be left out but he had no proof that Izuku was bullshitting him and if even if he somehow had a lie-detecting-quirk, Izuku would keep denying it because he probably wasn’t making it out alive anyway so why deprive himself of the chance of annoying his would-be-killer?

And actually, why wait?

“I prefer waffles,” Izuku informed him because, after all, All for One had offered him to make him something else.

All for One stared at him without saying anything, probably thinking about all the ways he could have killed Izuku back when they were in Tartarus. Meanwhile, Izuku gave the illusion to be staring back at him when he was actually thinking about the fact the window made a faster exit but All for One would have the time to catch him before he landed seven floors lower while the door offered him more options.

All for One eventually abandoned his plate and started to rummage through the cupboards, going straight to the place where Izuku and his mom usually put the baking ingredients. Either everyone organized their kitchen the same way, or All for One had broken in so many homes that he was just a pro at using any kitchen he found himself into.

“Do you have flour?” the lunatic called out. “I can’t find it.”

Izuku had already flowed out of his chair and was making his way to the door by walking backwards, trying to radiate nonchalance and not the need to RUN AWAY WITHOUT LOOKING BACK.

“Try the highest shelves,” Izuku helpfully suggested, his hand on the doorknob.

It was where his mom put the heaviest pots and pans they usually didn’t use, since everyone in this household needed to climb a chair to access it. With a little luck, they would all fall on All for One.

Izuku left the apartment, not even bothering to fully close the door behind him, and he ran. He was in his pajamas, had found his sneakers by the door and they were still in his hands as he booked it out of his neighborhood as fast as Full Cowl could carry him and he didn’t stop until his building wasn’t in sight anymore. Then, he stopped on a bench, the couple flirting on it deciding they could do that somewhere else when they saw him approaching, and he put his sneakers on, took a deep breath, and decided to run some more, still in the opposite direction of where Todoroki was living, and then, he would figure out a plan.

Unfortunately, liquid shadows chose this moment to appear right in front of him, revealing All for One, who was holding a bag from Waffle Palace in one of his hands.

“I didn’t find any flour or sugar so I just ordered in.”

Some people would have screamed or been startled but Izuku had already ripped the bench from the ground and thrown it at All for One. The villain batted it away with his empty hand but it didn’t matter because Izuku was already half way through the park, or at least until black tendrils grabbed him and yanked him back.

“Your waffles are going to get cold,” All for One sternly informed him before grabbing him by the back of his shirt and he warped again, this time with Izuku under his arm.

#I hope you see this Anon #anyone fic #anyone au

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endiness · 3 days ago

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not to go off on this again (and because of a bullshit clickbait article from screenrant as if that isn't their entire business model in the first place) but it's still so fucking mindboggling to me just how much henry cavill was able to brainwash people. like, the idea that he was the one that made the show and he was the only good thing about it and the only good casting choice when he was very noticeably the worst actor on the entire show and meanwhile the rest of the cast is extremely talented and easily acted circles around him. not to mention that he has all the charisma of a black hole sucking all of the chemistry out of the room.

and the whole idea that he is some uber fan of the franchise and the only person on the entire show that knows anything about the source material and cares about it which is also always said in conjunction with the idea that he's the one who made the show. when he didn't even know that the books existed, he only read them once after lauren told him about them, he's only played tw3 (and not even the dlc for it), and by his own admission he didn't do any research for the role. and then meanwhile you've got joey who wrote a whole ass song in ~24 hours and showed up in costume with a lute to audition and who's read the entire series at least 3 times as of 2023; therica, whose books are all annotated and she tries to go back and reread the series before each season and even goes on youtube to watch video essays to refresh her memories; cassie, who has a binder full of notes on philippa and her backstory and everything; and many, many other cast members who've done a lot of research into the books and their characters and the universe and the franchise. but somehow henry cavill is the massive superfan. because he said that a lot in interviews. while never actually giving any examples of that beyond, like, having said he played tw3 for a ton of hours. (which, duh, 'cause a playthrough of that game can easily clock in at +100 hours.)

and speaking of the idea that he just cares SO much about the source material and that's why he ragequit the show because the writers weren't following the books closely enough, likE. he is the one who made geralt's characterization book inaccurate in s1 because he would cut his lines and either just say nothing or grunt instead. (and he also gave his scene partners zero indication he was going to do this and just left them hanging and wondering what was going on and if he was actually going to say his lines and put them into the position of having to improvise and take his lines just to move the plot forward.) and the only reason why he suddenly started to advocate for a more book accurate geralt come s2 is because he got dunked on by reddit for his performance in s1. (which he also took virtually no responsibility for whatsoever and just passed all of the blame off onto the writers for HIS acting choices. wait, that's not entirely accurate. he also blamed yennefer and ciri's prominence on geralt's lack of dialogue even though ciri's scenes were the ones that were cut in s1. yennefer's, too, btw.) he also fucked up geralt and jaskier's friendship by cutting his lines in s1 (and imo there is a lot of implication that the things he was cutting in their scenes was actual affirmation on geralt's side of things that he actually cares about jaskier) and by his own admission, he didn't want to play them as being all buddy-buddy with each other. and his refusal to play geralt struggling with fatherhood and with any negative character traits in s2 led to the domino effect of eskel's death (which in itself led to vesemir trying to create new witchers and lambert's harsher attitude toward ciri), yennefer's betrayal, and voleth meir being the big bad of the season. he also cut a sex scene between geralt and yennefer in s2 because he didn't think it would be in character of them to have sex after reuniting (lolwut) and he cut a scene between geralt and triss of even them just platonically finding comfort in each other (that's what happens in the books.) but yeah, HE just cares about the source material SO MUCH. that's why everything he had a hand in went against the books.

(not to mention that the thing he was clashing with lauren over was that he was not the main character (ciri is the main character of the main books, btw) but rather co-lead with two women and he was mad that the show heavily revolves around women (the books heavily revolve around women) instead of men.) (in s2 interviews, he goes on about how important men being three dimensional characters is to him as if women being three dimensional characters on the show somehow means that men can't be. which is ironic of him to say anyway, tbh, considering he didn't want geralt to be a three dimensional character. as three dimensional characters have flaws. and he didn't want geralt to have any.) (oh, and just to mention but when talking about how violent men can be three dimensional and caring, henry cavill lists who men can be caring towards: other men, family, children. weird he doesn't mention women at all. i'm sure that's not an indication of anything especially when it's said by someone who's a self-professed nerd, lorebuff, redditor, and gamer. because they're always known for non-rancid takes about women. especially when they've already gotten flack for their "i'm afraid to flirt because i'll be accused of being a rapist" #metoo takes. 💅)

(also, just with the conspiracy theory that henry cavill ragequit the show because it wasn't following the books closely enough. like, that is just a conspiracy theory though. the only "proof" there ever was of it was henry cavill going on about how important adhering to the source material is to him. except everything he had a hand in went against the books, so that can't be true. and the thing he and lauren were clashing over was how he was not the main character (geralt is not the main character) and the prominence of women in the series (the women in the books drive the plot forward in massive ways). so that can't be true. and s3 was the closest adaption of the books anyway, so yeah. that really can't be true. and the only other thing that's "proof" is the rumor that the writers hate the source material. which was started by henry cavill's buddy, a writer who was fired from the show for allegedly being emotionally, physically, and sexually abusive. so i'm sure his word is totally trustworthy and he wouldn't have a vested interest in lying and creating a rumor to incite the fanbase against his former co-workers whom he was allegedly fired for mistreating in the first place. (btw, witin the past year, the same writer was fired again for allegedly the same kind of reasons.) also, i'm sure it's jut a coincidence how that rumor, which was started by henry cavill's friend, to disparage the show and the writers dropped about a week before henry cavill announced he was no longer going to be on the show. like, it definitely couldn't've been a coordinated effort between them or anything.) (psst, the rumor that hc was fired for being sexist actually has the most evidence supporting it. js.)

#!txt: the witcher #anti henry cavill #the witcher

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lady-pug · 3 months ago

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Written Between the Lines

Chapter V - Two Hearts as Embers

Summary: On the eve of your wedding day you are left feeling agitated, anxious and lonely. But an unexpected late-night visit and some surprising revelations might be just what you need to calm your racing heart.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word count: 4k

Warnings: canon-typical incest (uncle-niece), ritualistic self-inflicted wounds, ritualistic blood consumption

Notes: Hellooo! It’s me again, and I bring you something I have been dying to write for a while (pretty much since chapter got published). I had lots of fun writing this one and ended up loving how it came out.

Like I’ve mentioned before, I have left the question of the reader’s parentage more ambiguous (she can be biologically Laenor’s daughter, or Harwin Strong’s or some other folk Rhaenyra decided to bed once, it doesn’t matter). I did this in order to not imply a certain appearance for the reader and leave the whole thing up for interpretation.

High Valyrian translations are in the end notes.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope with all my heart you enjoy!

Next chapter | Previous chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

You had never been more agitated than you were feeling after supper. Not even the bath you requested your maids fix for you had helped to calm your skittish nerves, nor did the calming tea Alicent suggested you drink before bed. Sleep eluded you, so you decided to read something as a distraction but found yourself rereading the same sentence several times, such was your lack of concentration.

Time couldn’t go by any slower in your opinion. It had been almost four whole moons since your betrothal to Aemond, and not a day went by that you didn’t wish the wedding day would arrive faster. No less than three days after your quarrel with Jason Lannister in the courtyard (to which Rhaenyra rolled her eyes at Tyland’s apologies on behalf of his brother, pretending not to notice the proud smile Daemon sent your way once you’d told them what happened) your mother had given birth to a healthy baby girl, to whom she gave the name Visenya. You insisted on helping with the delivery, like you had done before with the birth of Aegon and Viserys, and nothing she said could pry you from her side.

“You shouldn’t see me like this, tis’ not a pleasant sight.” she had said, even though Visenya’s birth was the most uncomplicated one compared to her two older brothers you had witnessed.

“Worry not, mother.” you had soothed her, swallowing down your own fear of the whole situation “I wish to be here for you. And besides, it shall be me in the same place as you are now soon enough. I should see what awaits me.”

Almost as soon as she could stand unassisted again, without much care for her own well-being, she started planning and preparing your wedding feast, much to both Daemon’s and Alicent’s dismay. She started ordering servants around, asking the maesters to send ravens to all great houses, requesting the cooks to buy different exotic meats. You told her all the fuss wasn’t necessary, that just a feast with the whole family would suffice, but she and even Alicent scolded you, saying that the heirs to the throne warrant only the best on their wedding day.

After getting past her initial shock at the way Rhaenyra handled things, Alicent joined in the wedding planning efforts. The whole ordeal brought them closer, and now without the looming figure of Viserys, the very thing that had drifted them apart in the first place, and Otto no longer caring about securing Aegon’s claim, the both of them managed to find their footing again and their friendship started to bloom once more. It was the main reason you tried not chiming in too much on the planning of your own wedding, wanting them to have this moment for themselves knowing how much, at least on your mother’s side, she had missed her best friend.

Now, on the eve of the day you were to be wed, you were disproportionately anxious and you couldn’t even understand why. You knew Aemond wanted to marry you as much as you wanted to marry him, you knew this union would avoid a bloody and gruesome war between your kin, you knew it would make both of you, and in turn both your mothers, happy. Then why did you suddenly feel so apprehensive? It couldn’t possibly be due to cold feet, you could think of nothing else but how much you wanted this day to come. So why?

You wanted to see Aemond. His presence brought you comfort and you always felt safe when you were with him, ever since you were merely more than a babe, and even more so now that you had gotten to know each other once more. But Alicent, fervorously adept in the Faith of the Seven, had prohibited you from seeing one another after dusk had fallen, claiming that the groom seeing the bride before the wedding brought misfortune to their union. So you resigned yourself to simmering alone in your thoughts until the wedding, or until you have gone mad.

Deep down you knew you could talk to your mother. She would most likely understand, even relate to what you were feeling. However, you felt like she already had too much on her plate with the last minute preparations, same thing with Alicent (and to be honest you still weren’t all that close to your soon to be good mother, maybe someday). Daemon had been away from court for almost a week now, no word to where he was going, just a promise that he would most definitely be back for the wedding. You could talk to Helaena, but you didn’t wish to bother her with such trivial matters, as she had her hands full with her two children (three if you included her husband in the bill). Jace and Luke? Absolutely not. Maybe Baela could talk some sense into you if she was still awake at this hour.

There was one other person who used to bring you a similar sense of security as Aemond did, someone you used to go to when you felt frightened as a child and who calmed you down in a way your mother never managed to match. But he was no longer here, and the almost debilitating ache his absence evoked in your chest brought tears to your eyes. You shook your head, desperate to get rid of this feeling and focus on something else

Then something caught your attention. A muffled, dry thud echoed around your chambers, so low you almost didn’t hear it. It sounded out again, louder this time, and you guessed it was coming from the wall. Or rather behind the wall. Walking over to where the sound was coming from, you placed your head on the cold stone, the side of your face flat against the surface as you tried to listen better. You beamed brightly once you heard the sound again, this time right under your ear: someone was knocking on the wall from the other side.

Eagerly, you opened the door, expecting it to be your soon to be husband, but the face that greeted you on the other side was not who you were hoping for.

“Daemon?” you questioned, feeling more confused than ever. He didn’t answer and only stared at you until you stepped aside to let him into the room “When did you get back?”

Once again your question went unanswered as he sauntered into the chambers, and only now did you realize he was holding a beat up parcel in his hand, its contents unknown to you.

“What are you doing here?”

He placed the parcel on your bed and turned around to face you.

“Put these on and meet me outside when you are ready.” he walked back the way he came, halting only when you grabbed his hand.

“Daemon, what is going on?”

“Just do as you are told.” his face softened upon noticing the apprehension on your face, a reflection of your earlier fidgety state “Trust me on this, alright?”

After a beat you nodded, moving back towards the parcel. Looking over your shoulder you noticed Daemon had walked out the hidden door once more, leaving it ajar just a crack. As you opened the bag you were left puzzled as you pulled robes that were almost the same beige, grayish color of the parcel. As you unfolded it, however, you noticed the red details on the fabric, lining the bottom of the skirts, cuffs and shoulders. You changed out of your nightgown and pulled the robes over your head, tying it around your waist.

Staring at your reflection on the mirror, something about the clothes, all the intricate details on the midsection and the patterns embroidered in colors, all of it seemed almost too familiar to you. You couldn’t quite put your finger on where you remembered it from, though, no matter how long you stared at yourself in it. Deciding not to dwell too much on it, you followed Daemon out the secret door.

A thousand questions raced through your mind as you followed him through the secret tunnels of Maegor’s Holdfast. When had he gotten back? Where had he been? Where were you going? None of the scenarios you created in your head made any sense so you kept your head down and followed after your step-father. You eventually left the passages, coming out on the side of Aegon’s High Hill that faced the sea. Daemon started walking towards Shadowblack Lane, intending to climb all the way down to the beach.

“Where are we going?” you asked, careful to watch your footing on the steep track.

“You will see.” he gave no more away, elusive as ever.

“You know, kepa, had I not known you for so long now I would think you are trying to abduct me before my wedding day.”

“You know I have never been the biggest fan of the one-eyed cunt, tala.” he chuckled at the scathing glare you sent his way “But you seem fond of him, so I rest my case.”

You walked the rest of the way in silence before you stood a short distance from the beach. There, as you walked ahead of Daemon, you spotted three lone figures, standing next to decorations in shades of red and yellow and illuminated by lit pyres. Upon closer inspection you realized one of them was your mother, holding something you couldn’t quite make out in her arms, and another was a priest or cleric of some kind. The third person, on the other hand, you couldn’t even see for their face was obscured by the hood of their cloak.

As she noticed you approaching, Rhaenyra nudged the hooded figure who turned around to face you as well, and when you could finally see under the cloak you felt like your heart had ceased beating and all air left your lungs in a single, shaky exhale.

No, you thought, it can’t be. He was dead, had been dead for years. He couldn’t possibly be here, your tired mind had to be playing tricks on you.

But when he pulled the cloak down, revealing all of himself to you, it was clear it wasn’t an image conjured by your mind to toy with you. He was really here.

“Father?”

Your voice was so soft, so scared that if you spoke too loudly you’d break whatever spell you were under, wake up in your bed and find out you had been dreaming all along. Tears brimmed in your eyes, something heavy and tight burning on your throat, as you felt a hand gently rubbing between your shoulder blades. You hadn’t even noticed when Daemon had caught up to you, now trying to bring you comfort in your most vulnerable moment. One look at your mother smiling kindly at you, a mist in her own eyes as she gave you a single nod, had you taking off running into the arms of Laenor Velaryon.

You buried your face in his chest, your arms circling his waist as his own wrapped around your shoulders, one hand gently cradling the back of your head and holding you tightly against him. Years upon years of pent up grief, of deep seated longing and anger and resentment and pain and desperation poured out of you, a weight being lifted off your shoulder as they shook from the force of your sobs. You felt him tightening his arms even further around you, swaying you from side to side as he used to do when you were younger and in need of comfort, and the realization that he was here, that he was truly alive, made you shed even more tears and cry even harder.

Eventually your sobs subsided to sniffles and you pulled back, staring up at him. He used the bottom of his cloak to dry the lone tears that still rolled down your cheeks, the coarse material helping ground you enough to properly take in the sight of him. He looked expectedly older than you remembered, more worn down, but at the same time the lines of worry on his face seemed less deep than before, like he was happier, more free somehow. His silver hair was a lot shorter, having foregone the dreads and letting his natural curls take over.

“H-how… how are you-?!” you hiccuped, still not fully understanding the situation.

“Tis’ a long story, mayhaps better suited for another time.” he spoke delicately “Your mother can explain it to you in the future.”

“But what are you doing here?”

The grin that spread across his face was as bright as you remembered, so mirthful and full of life.

“You did not think I was going to miss my little girl’s wedding, now, did you?” he poked your ribs, another nod to simpler times.

For a moment you panicked, holding tightly onto his forearms as if he would disappear if you let him go.

“No, you can’t!” you stammered, fearful “If someone sees you at the sept-”

“No one will see me,” he shook his head, running a hand over your hair in hopes of soothing you “for I am not going to the sept.”

“Then how…?”

Your mother finally stepped forward.

“Tis’ why we are here tonight.” she spoke for the first time since you arrived at the beach and it was then that you figured out what she was holding.

A traditional headpiece.

And everything started making sense. You might not have remembered the clothes but you could never forget the headpiece worn by your mother during hers and Daemon’s own wedding. You had been too out of it to truly pay attention to what was happening, for the death of your father and the whole ordeal with Aemond on Driftmark were still fresh and weighing heavily on your mind, but you remember looking at her and thinking how well the piece suited her, making her look like the most beautiful woman in the realm in your eyes.

It made sense, the robes, the cleric, the decorations.

It was a valyrian wedding ceremony.

“Getting Caraxes to accept him as a passenger was quite the task.” Daemon jested. So that’s where he had been the previous days, he had gone to fetch your father.

Rhaenyra and Daemon had organized the whole thing in order for you not only to have a wedding in the traditions of your roots, something they knew both you and Aemond cherished deeply and bonded over, but also to give the opportunity for your father to witness it.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Laenor continued, cupping your cheeks “You are my first born and my only daughter, no matter what anyone says.”

The smile that took over your features threatened to split your face in half from how large it was, a new wave of tears pooling in your eyes as you hid in his arms once more. It didn’t matter if you were his by blood or not, he was your father. He was the one who had cared for you, who soothed you when you were sorrowful, who held you when you were frightened. He was the one who had started teaching you how to fight, how to defend yourself against a world that would certainly try to bring you down. He was your father and you loved him as such.

A set of footsteps approaching had you pulling back from him, turning to face whoever had intruded in your moment, only to come face to face with Aemond. He was wearing similar robes to your own, the clothing complementing his figure and making him appear even more handsome to you.

He stared at you in bewilderment, his eye moving rapidly between your father next to you and your mother who now stood next to Daemon. She placed the headpiece in her husband’s hands as she walked towards Aemond, and as she approached him, Laenor gently grasped your shoulders and turned you away from them, starting to style your hair.

You tried not to eavesdrop, you really did, but Rhaenyra wasn’t being very subtle either way.

“This is me trusting you.” she spoke with conviction, not wavering in front of a man seemingly feared by the whole court “If this got out, it could be my ruin. I am trusting you to keep this secret, valonqar, as I am trusting you with her.” there was a pause in her speech before she continued “Should you break my trust, for any reason whatsoever, either by betraying me or her, I will take her away from you. You will never see her again.”

It was silent for a moment, her words striking fear even in your own heart, before you heard Aemond’s quiet answer, his voice almost a whisper.

“Kostā pāsagon nyke, mandia. Nyke kivio.”

A warmth spread through your chest as you took in his words. Laenor seemed to notice your giddiness for he chuckled at your antics.

“Does he make you happy?” he spoke after a moment, his tone more serious than before.

“He does.” you answered without hesitation.

His hands settled on your shoulders, his voice lowering so only you could hear.

“And do you love him?”

Turning around you noticed the pleading look in his eyes, hidden behind the wall of sterness, and you noticed how much your joy mattered to him, even after all these years.

“I do.”

His worry melted away as he smiled brightly again.

“Tis’ all I could ask for.” he pulled a few strands of your hair, giving it its finishing touch “There, now you are the prettiest princess in the realm.” he spoke softly, reciting the words he would always say when helping you style your hair as a child.

With a kiss to the top of your head, your father turned you back around towards your husband to be, who stood next to Rhaenyra, and something made you stop dead in your tracks.

He was no longer wearing his eyepatch.

Sometime between the moment he arrived and now, while you had your back turned to him, he had bared his face for all to see. The force of the realization of what he did, of what this meant to him almost brought you to your knees. This was him, trusting in your mother, like she trusted him before. By trusting her enough to show her the most vulnerable side of him, one he had admitted once to having never shown anyone other than yourself and the occasional maester before, not even his own mother, he was proving to her that the faith she had placed in him wasn’t unwarranted.

In this very moment you knew you never wanted to spend another day apart from him ever again.

Rhaenyra stepped forward then, the headpiece back on her hands and, as you walked closer to the two of them, she placed it on your head, straightening your clothes. She didn’t have to speak, for her smile revealed everything she was thinking.

I am so proud of you.

“I know, mother.” you whispered and you could swear she blinked a few times too fast, trying to keep her own tears from falling. She took a step back, going to stand between Laenor and Daemon behind you as you finally turned to face Aemond fully.

He looked beautiful, perhaps more than you’d ever seen before. The light cast from the pyres shining on the sapphire, glimmering like the night sky, made him look almost celestial, the red of the robes contrasting against his pale skin and under the white strands of his hair. As you stood before each other, so close you could feel the heat emanating from him, all your thoughts were silenced, none of them mattering now that you were about to be united in fire and blood.

“Shall we begin then?” your mother gestured for the man, who you now realized was a dragon priest, to step forward and stand besides the two of you, handing Aemond a small blade made of dragonglass.

“Hen lantoti ānogar, va sȳdronti vāedroma.” the man spoke in a measured cadence, almost as if he was reciting a love poem or singing a ballad.

Blood of two, joined as one

Aemond raised the blade to your lips, cutting a small line across the middle of your bottom lip.

“Mēro perzot gīhoti, elēdroma iārza sīr.”

Ghostly flame, and song of shadows

He brought a finger to your lips and tenderly, almost reverently, dabbed his finger in the speck of blood that had formed on your skin. He traced a line in the middle of your forehead, right between your eyes, branding you with a mark, his mark.

“Izulī ampā perzī, prūmī lanti sēteski.”

Two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires

You, in turn, did the same to him, reveling in the softness of his lips as you slashed his skin. Like he had done, you gathered the crimson liquid and marked him as inherently yours.

“Hen jenȳ māzīlarion, qēlossa ozūndesi.”

A future promised in glass, the stars stand witness

The dragon priest then handed you a larger dragonglass blade which you used to slash a line across your palm, handing it to Aemond so he could do the same, none of you minding the sharp sting. Then the both of you took each other’s hand, perfectly aligning the fresh cuts as your fingers intertwined almost on instinct.

“Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo, rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi.”

The vow spoken through time, of darkness and light

With a goblet placed under your joined hands, collecting the dripping crimson of your mixed blood, the priest wrapped an embroidered ribbon around your hands, uniting you for eternity.

Once he was done reciting the vows, the man then handed you the chalice and Aemond’s eye followed your every move as you brought it to your lips. The coppery taste didn’t bother you, warmth filling in your chest at the comfort the thought of consuming the merge of both your essences elicited in you.

Aemond did the same, taking a generous gulp from the goblet, and you couldn’t help the flush that took over your cheeks as you watched the way his throat moved as he swallowed or how his tongue peeked out of his mouth as he licked his lips, not letting one drop go to waste.

Only after the dragon priest had taken the chalice from his hands did Aemond step even closer to you, toes almost touching. He placed a finger under your chin, tilting your head to look at him, thumb delicately tracing the line he had cut on your mouth. Then slowly, gently, he pulled your face towards his and placed a soft albeit passionate kiss on your awaiting lips. He kissed you with devotion, with a sureness of a man who knew exactly where he wanted, no, needed to be. He poured all of his feelings into that one kiss, sealing your fates forever now, tying it to one another.

He reluctantly pulled back, although he did relent to one final tender peck as your lips chased after his own, resting his chin on your shoulder as he embraced you.

“I have longed for this day for as long as I can remember.” he whispered, like he was bestowing upon you his most well kept secret “And now you are mine.”

“I am yours.” you cupped his cheek as you pulled back, running a thumb over his scar like you had come to learn soothed him “As you are mine.”

“I am.” he nodded as he nudged his nose against your cheek, causing your head to turn to the side, facing your family “I have always been.”

As you stared at your family, Rhaenyra no longer trying to hold back her tears as both Laenor and Daemon tried comforting her, you felt loved and adored and safe and content in the arms of your husband. In this very moment, you couldn’t help but thank whatever gods were listening for giving you this, everything you could have ever dreamed of. You’d cherish it greatly from this day, until the end of your days.

High Valyrian translations: - ‘kepa’ and ‘tala’ - father and daughter (meant here affectionately, not by blood, as there are no terms for step-relative in High Valyrian) - valonqar - younger brother - kostā pāsagon nyke, mandia. nyke kivio - you can trust me, (older) sister. i promise

Tag List:

@callsignwidow

@sleephereicome

@bitchassgoose

@voguiing

@dibutw

@fruityvampslayer

@garden-in-the-rain

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x f!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x niece!reader #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic

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sunshineandspencer · 4 months ago

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Cowboy hat rule, Part 3 (Tyler Owens, Twisters)

A/N: This was written as soon as I woke up the morning after seeing the movie, I woke up at 5am for some reason and this was spat out of me. I have no knowledge of it even after rereading it all, but the groupchat liked it so here you are. Also I’m working under the headcannon that you don’t get your hat back until you complete the rule.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader.

Summary: In between butting heads with Javi’s team and running a successful YouTube channel based entirely around tornadoes, Tyler Owens is introduced to the most interesting woman he’s seen in a good while - and her sister.

Word Count: 946

Warnings: past emotional(?) infidelity (fuck anthony ramos for cheating on his fiancé), talk of beer, slightly suggestive (again, cowboy hat rule)

Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

I have redone the form for the taglist now that I’m apparently expanding from Criminal Minds

So, apparently, Javi was working for a company that profited off the suffering of people that were most recently affected by the storms.

Of course, it makes sense. Old white guy, white hair, irritating face, makes sense he’s into real estate.

What doesn’t make it any better, is the fact that while both her and Kate found out, he only bothered to go and explain himself to Kate.

Nice to know he hasn’t changed. He’s always preferred Kate to her, even when they dated, he always called for Kate first on the radio.

If she tries hard enough, she can hear them through the wall.

But she’s not going to try.

Doom scrolling through that old guy’s website and pretending she’s not feeling sick about inadvertently helping this guy was cut short by a knock to her door.

Shutting the lid of her laptop, she shook her head and pressed the base of her palms to her eyes.

Getting up and walking to the door, she gave herself a few moments to try and decide what emotion to put on, not sure she’s ready to face her sister or - God forbid - Javi. Pulling it open and leaning against it.

Fighting the smile, and the genuine relief, when she was met with Tyler.

“Evenin’ wrangler, what you all the way up here for?”

It’s the second level of a motel, there are a lot of people up here. If he didn’t sleep in the RV with everyone else he’d be up here.

“Heard you hadn’t eaten, wondered if you wanted a pizza? It was the last one before the lady went home, should still be warm.”

Shrugging, he offers the pizza, margarita. Safe, lots of people like it - thankfully it’s also the only pizza she likes. And God she needs a pizza, and a beer, but she needs the pizza first.

“You actually- nevermind, come in, bring the pizza.”

As if he’d leave it outside, she holds the door open a little more and he steps in. Taking a good look around the room.

It’s not like this place has meaning to her, it’s a shitty motel room in tornado valley; they don’t build these with the expectation to last. The most you can do is collect stuff from home and wherever you’re staying and try to give it some personality.

But then his eyes fall on the white cowboy hat on her bedpost. Let’s correct that, his cowboy hat on her bedpost.

There’s the splash of meaning.

“You still have my hat.”

She lets out a soft snort, a pretty kind of laugh that she probably hates.

Sitting down on the bed with her pizza and opening it up. Resisting the urge to dive head first into the greasy shit she knows it’s going to be.

God- she’s never hated New York and her fucking fad diet more than she did right now.

Luckily, she’s not in New York, she’s in Oklahoma and a cowboy just bought her a pizza, she couldn’t turn it down now could she.

Offering him the first slice, she gives him a smug little grin, tilting her head. Acting all innocent as if she doesn’t know exactly what it means, his stupid cowboy hat has kept pride of place since she stole it.

“And you know how you have to get it back. Otherwise it’s staying on my wall. Add it to the collection.”

She’s not had a collection of guy’s cowboy hats since she was in college - it was a pretty decoration, and she loved watching the guys find their hats once they left.

But he doesn’t know that, and she liked the upset glint in his eyes at thinking there are still some hats waiting for their owners.

He took the slice and sat with her, and the itching silence caused her to sigh. Able to see his kicked-puppy look in the corner of her eye. Cursing her inability to say no to a pretty face, or even allow herself to hurt someone in the slightest.

“I’m joking, by the way. The only hat I have is my own, and that’s in Texas.”

Whether he knows it or not, Tyler Owens visibly relaxed at being told that. And that sends a concerning rush through her chest.

Something she really does not need right now, especially not with her sister and ex-boyfriend’s voice coming through the wall. A little louder now, probably an argument.

Her head turns, staring unseeing at the ugly painting above the bed. Not really paying attention, but knowing the words would come back to her later. When she really didn’t want them to.

Honestly, he’s barely said a word since he came in, still surprised he actually convinced himself to bring her the pizza. And now he’s sat on her bed.

Not wanting this odd little dream to disappear before he could grasp it fully.

This woman is a wisp of smoke, the angry clouds before a tornado forms, unpredictable and dangerous. Unpredictability and danger, the two things he’s dedicated his life to.. he wouldn’t mind making her a third.

Nudging her foot with his, he dipped his head down to finally meet her gaze. Habit from wearing the hat, the damn thing somewhere off in his periphery.

“I have something I want to show you, if you’ll let me. It’s a hell of a lot better than anything this place has given us yet.”

“Like what?”

He doesn’t appreciate her dull tone, but knows she didn’t really mean it. Not when her gaze slowly returned to his, the fractals of guilt swimming in her eyes.

“A home away from home for you Alpine, trust me.”

Want more?! Good!

#tyler owens #twisters #twisters movie #twisters 2024 #twisters fanfic #twisters x reader #twisters spoilers #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens fanfiction #twisters fic #tyler owens fic

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schmergo · 3 months ago

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If you think I was a kid who loved to read, you’d be right, but that doesn’t just mean I was reading, like, Newbery Award nominated prestigious children’s novels. Because in my experience, most kids who love to read are more gourmand than gourmet. I was also reading:

* Class rosters. I begged my teachers for these. I wanted to try to memorize everyone’s middle names.

* Similarly, old yearbooks. I liked judging whether people’s names matched their faces and making up different names for them if they did. I also loved reading baby name books and making lists of names I liked.

.* The personals section of the newspaper. I liked picturing the people as they described themselves and imagining which combination of people on the page might like each other.

* The ingredients of food packages. Not even for any real informational reason, I just really liked certain fantasy-sounding words like thiamine and riboflavin.

* An old World Book Encyclopedia from the 1970s. I would sneak out of bed to read it because the bookshelf was near my bedroom door and I could crawl to it without making the floor creak. My favorite entries were the ones about Hawaii and tigers. I kinda developed a ritual of rereading the Hawaii article when I had read a scary book before bed and needed to calm my brain down.

* My dad’s Dave Barry and Woody Allen humor books and also transcripts of all of the Monty Python’s Flying Circus episodes. This is probably why my sense of humor has been so weird from such a young age.

* The part of the church hymnal with ceremonies for baptisms, weddings, and funerals. I liked to imagine them.

* Wine catalogs at friends’ houses. The descriptions of the wines seemed so poetic and abstract. I also liked when they said “fruit on the nose” because I pictured a dog balancing a whole piece of fruit on its nose.

* My parents’ parenting books. I liked to see if I was exhibiting developmentally appropriate behavior. I am not 100% sure if doing that is, in fact, developmentally appropriate behavior.

* Those little brochures advertising various roadside attractions and tourist activities at rest shops. I would grab as many as possible when we stopped to use the bathroom on a road trip. Also, travel guides in general.

* I checked out the entire “unexplained” section of the library over the course of third grade. (Dewey decimal 001.9.) Ask little me about Project Blue Book, I guess.

* I LOVED party planning books, especially ones with highly specific themed parties that seemed impractical to put on in real life like a whole chess-themed party culminating in a game of human chess, complete with lemon chess pie for dessert.

* Seed packets. I find the writing style of these very endearing. It always sounds so affectionate toward the plants.

* My grandma’s Reader’s Digest magazines, which felt like Russian roulette because they sometimes published disturbing articles that gave me nightmares. (Reader’s Indigestion?) I especially vividly remember a feature on adopted kids who need to wear Ilizarov apparatuses to straighten their limbs because they became malformed due to severe neglect at orphanages.

* For some reason, I loved reading restaurant menus and imagining what kind of food different fictional characters would order from there.

* And last but certainly not least, because I think this is a relatable one: the AMERICAN GIRL CATALOG! No, I never had an American Girl doll, but getting the catalog was a source of much excitement.

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vixen7243 · 8 months ago

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Wrong Chat: 4

Johnny x AFAB!Reader | TF141 x AFAB!Reader

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

MDNI!!!

Over the following few weeks each of the guys had planned dates, John mostly taking you shopping and buying you anything you so much as glanced at. You’d gotten to know them better and warmed up to dating them, Johnny each night you get home pampering you, and asking about the date. Any sign of hesitation or nervousness of the growing bond you were having with the others Johnny continued to hold you and reassuring his support. There’d been a few times where he even joined the dates, sometimes literally pushing you into the other guys side. Today John was picking you up from work, after talking with Johnny you agreed to spend the night with John at his place. On his way to you he had grabbed an already packed bag from Johnny of everything you would need and or want to feel more comfortable, sitting in the break room waiting for John to let you know that he was in front of your work you kept rereading the texts from Johnny.

Johnny❤️🥰: Have a good time tonight bonnie. I want ye to relax and just let Cap take care of ya. -I love ye so much, don't let yer mind wander too much bon.

-----

John🐻💚: Out front darling

Grabbing your work bag and clocking out you waved to some coworkers, smiling as you saw John leaning against his truck you walked up to him hugging him, "Hi."

"Hey darlin, how was your day?" Taking your bag from you he rested his hand on your back guiding you to the passenger side, opening the door for you.

"Felt long, urgh, too looong." Getting up into the truck you stretched your back and sighed smiling as John set your bag in the back seat then grabbed your seatbelt to buckle you in. Leaning in you kissed his cheek bringing your hand up to run through his beard turning his head laying a soft kiss on his lips looking into his blue eyes. You hadn't slept with any of the guys since a few weeks back wanting to take things slow to first get comfortable with everything. John had been the most gentlest with you, and going above and beyond to cater to your every need even before you think of what you want or need. "Happy now though."

You were starting to love when he gave you his same little smile, making his eyes squint a little, a little gleam in them. "Know how you feel sweat heart. You ready to go?"

"Mhm." Getting into the drivers seat he started making his way to his apartment, he and the other guys not finding much reason for a nice big home when they were gone most of the time and lived their lives at the base other wise most nights they typically just slept in their beds and left. After your first time visiting his apartment you all but rushed him to the store and bought him little things to make the place more homey, "No wonder you don't stick around much, this place is so dark and lonely. I'm going to help you change that come on." The smile never left John's face for days, you had quickly made the once dark, depressing and quiet apartment lively, welcoming and warm. John didn't care about the little trinkets, blankets pillows or anything but was just happy that with that touch of yours, you had continuously warmed up more and more with him. Your touches with him lingering, kisses longer, cuddling nearing a dangerous amount of grinding as you all but started craving him more and more.

Walking with him up his stairs, you stood to the side as he unlocked his door, letting you enter first you laughed, "John, I can untie my own shoes, you carried my bags up."

"I know what you can do darling, just let me do this yeah?" Pulling your boots off he stood up fully smiling, "I enjoy taking care of you, it doesn't bother me or anything. Come on, go sit and relax I'll put your bags in the room."

Taking defeat you walked into the living room pulling off your jacket and instead replaced it with one of John's jackets that he had conveniently left in the living on his couch. Smiling and snuggling into it as you curled up on the couch inhaling his scent you pulled your phone from your pocket and set it on the coffee table looking up to John as he walked into the room, turning the tv on. Sitting down by you, you pushed into his side wrapping your arms around his center humming as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders bringing you closer.

Playing with the edge of his shirt after slowly tugging it up and from his waist band you started feel a little nervous and antzy. Looking up at him you took in how warm he was, and big, after staring for a moment John looked down at you. "You okay darlin?"

"Hm." Pushing up along his side, you traced your hand up his side, chest and neck focused on his lips, stopping short of kissing him you looked into his eyes. "I want to kiss you."

"Yeah?" Smirking back at him you nodded your head.

"Yeah... I also... want to..." Swallowing down you looked back at his lips following his tongue as it darted out wetting his lips, "More."

"What's more darling?" He was wanting you to say it all out fully. You know that, which made it harder for you to properly and confidently say that you want him, all of him.

Tugging his collar towards you, you quickly said, "You." Before locking your lips with his, moaning as you slid yourself fully up into his lap feeling his hands grasp your hips. Tilting your head deepening the kiss you ground your hips into his feeling as he pushed up into you. “John, I want you. Please?”

Groaning John kissed along your jaw then down your neck, “You’ve got me darling, whatever you want, I’ll give to you.” Huffing against him you started undoing your pants before his hands covered yours, removing them for you, helping you stand as he grabbed both your pants and underwear and pulled them down. As you stepped forward to get back into his lap, he went to grab his jacket off of you but you stopped him.

“Can I wear it, please?” Tugging the collar up over your mouth and nose you blushed.

Smirking as he pushed the edge up a little he kissed your stomach and pulled you fully into his lap, “You’ll have me wrapped around you, but if you want to keep it on that’s fine.” Arching into his hand as he slid his hand between your legs slipping his finger between your folds, circling your clit, your arousal coating his finger. "Already this wet baby? God, so beautiful darling. Look at you." Grinding into his hand you pushed your hands up into his hair, holding the back of his neck kissing his neck moaning into his ear.

"John, feels so good." Jerking your hips down as his finger slid up into you, he groaned, letting you push and grind into his hand and crotch. "Can I cum, please? I want to cum, John urgh, need you please."

"Already baby? Go ahead sweetie, cum for me." Grabbing your hip and helping you grind into him he started pumping his hand into you, sliding another finger into you, you leaned fully into him huffing as you came. Slowly working your hips John prolonging your orgasm, coaxing you through it he groaned into your ear making you shiver, "That was so good darling." Sitting up looking down as he slid his fingers out of you, opening your mouth you leaned sucking his fingers into your mouth grinding back into him moaning. Looking through your lashes you clenched around nothing as his jaw tensed, "Needy little thing tonight aren't you?" Nodding your head around his fingers you squealed as he pushed up against your core pulling his fingers from your mouth gripping your hips forcing you to dry hump against him.

You felt like a hormonal teenager panting and grinding with him on his couch, giggling as you could already feel your second orgasm building. "Gonna... oh John." Pulling the bottom of his jacket up you could see the big wet spot already forming on him, "John."

"Don't pay it no mind darling, keep going, use me." Rolling your hips you groaned pushing your knees full against the back of the couch gasping as you felt his zipper graze your clit. Rolling your eyes up you arched your back to drag along him as much as possible cumming. Gushing into his lap you whined twisting your waist as he continued to move your hips along him. Catching your breath you leaned into him as he turned and laid you into the couch, bunching up his coat and your tank top pushing them up over your chest, and tugging your bra under you tits, sucking a nipple into his mouth he hummed.

"Don't you want me t-"

"No, just lay here and let me pleasure you darling, you deserve it. Now. Take it." You almost came from that alone, you were already getting addicted to how this man was treating you. Letting yourself sink into the cushions you held the coat up for John moaning as he twirled your nipple in his mouth, using one hand between your thighs teasing your sensitive clit. Feeling foggy in your mind, unable to think of anything you pushed your fingers through John’s hair, caressing his head moaning as he switched his attention to your other breast, sliding himself down slightly pushing your thighs wider around him. His full body weight laid on you pinned you between him and the couch, and as he slid his free hand between the two of you slipping his two fingers around your clit before slowly thrusting them into you.

As you tried to arch up into him to gain more friction you shoved your head back deeper into the cushions whining, "John, more." Feeling him chuckle while still having his lips wrapped around your nipple you pouted looking down at him clenching around his fingers realizing he was starring up at you, his pupils dilated, the blue a thin rim around black. Wrapping your legs around him you huffed as you felt close to cumming around his fingers, clenching when he slid another finger in stretching you groaning around your nipple as you started gushing him, shoving your hips up into him you grunted as his fingers continued pushing deep into you prolonging your orgasm. Removing his hand from your breast he slid his arm under and around your waist tugging you up and to him, angling your hips. Popping your nipple out of his mouth he huffed, kissing your cheeks then you, you gripped his hair trying to keep him there, whimpering against his lips as he went to move away.

After a little more tug, he leaned back looking down at you, your eyes glossy, nipples glistening from his spit and your hips, now no longer pinned under him, moved along his fingers quickly, your arousal coating his hand and dripping onto the couch, a delicious wet spot growing under you. "Baby, you are so beautiful. I know what you want the most right now, but I want you to cum on my tongue first."

Shaking your head as you arched your back moaning cumming again around his fingers you cried out stopping your hips. Looking up to him you swallowed thickly, "Please John, just fuck me, I can't...Please?"

As John slid your hips moving them to the edge of the couch he got comfortable kneeling on the ground before you, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders he smiled up at you, "I know you can take more than that darling, you'd shown that when we all had you under us for the first time. Come on, darling, just give me a few more." Sucking your clit into his mouth you both groaned, pushing both of your hands into his hair and tugging him against your core started grinding into his mouth and huffed as he pushed his fingers back into you thrusting them.

As you neared another blinding orgasm your phone dinged a few times, John's following. Looking away from John, you watched as he grabbed around, finding your phone and handed it to you, "Go ahead baby, who is it?"

"The, oh god urgh, the guys are t-texting the group, fuuck John." Squeezing your thighs around his head you pulled his hair feeling him groaned into you.

"What are they saying, hun?"

Rolling your eyes you moaned and looked at your phone unlocking it and read the texts.

Johnny❤️🥰: How's evrytin goin? Simon💀😈: Why bother them, they're probably makin out Kyle🧢🤗: Eh, now I feel lonely 😣 Johnny❤️🥰: How do ye think I feel? Beds gonna be cold tonight🥶 Simon💀😈: You get her every night, stop bein a baby

John kissed your inner thighs, "Show them what were doing baby."

"Are you sure?" As John slotted his mouth back over your slit and slid his tongue into you he nodded his head. With a shaky hand, you opened the camera and with your tits out you angled your camera to get them and John eating you out in view. Spreading your legs you moaned as he pulled back a little his tongue and soaked beard visible his fingers disappearing into you. Taking the picture you sent it, guiding him back to you, "I'm close John, please don't stop." The phones dinged again but you waited, pushing your hips more into John chasing your orgasm, jerking against his mouth gushing on his tongue. He slurped your cum up humming as he eased you through it.

Sitting up John tugged his shirt up over his head, before undoing his pants standing up in front of you, you couldn't look away, sitting up you pushed his hands away and tugging his jeans down freeing his red aching cock. Sucking the tip into your mouth you moaned looking up into his eyes taking more of him into your mouth as you handed him your phone, wrapping your hand around his base moaning around him. John grunted as he looked at the messages that came through.

Kyle🧢🤗: GORGEOUS! Damnit the cap is lucky😣 Johnny❤️🥰: Shit bonnie, gonna make it a long night for me, why send such a tease???🫠 Simon💀😈:Fuck, lovie, always know how to make an appearance Kyle🧢🤗: I volunteer as tribute for you next round gorgeous, let me know when and where -Promise I'll be better!!!😫😫🫡🏃🏾‍♂️🙏🏾🧎🏾‍♂️

John smirked as he grabbed the side of your face and brought you a little further down him, you grunted as he hit the back of your throat looking up to your phone with a few tears streaking down your cheeks. Hearing the camera click you moaned and bobbed your head as he sent the picture and then dropped your phone back to the table as both phones continued to ding but you guys didn't check. Too drawn into each other as John thrusted a few times into your throat being pulling out all together and grabbed your chin tilting you up kissing you moving you back to lay on the couch again. Kicking his jeans off fully he situated himself between your thighs, pushing one knee to your chest he guided his cock right to your entrance before slowly pushing in, your back rising from the couch and your hips dipping.

"Hold on baby." God if he didn't stop call you that in his timbre voice you were going to cream around his cock, you were getting so addicted to his voice and his praise. "So amazing, perfect little thing taking me." Nodding your head you sucked in air as he continued to thrust in, easing more and more into you till he bottomed out and rocked into you.

"John, fuck, I'm going to cum. Please just cum with me, please." You closed your eyes tight trying to hold off, even though he was hard and twitching inside you, the smirk he gave you only told you that he wasn't planning to finish so soon. Moaning as his thumb drew tight circles around your clit you tried to twist against him, your walls clamping tightly around him as the head of his cock rubbed your cervix. Huffing and groaning you came, shaking under him, broken pleas for him to not stop, eyes rolled up, drool coming from the corner of your mouth. Grabbing the back of your other thigh he pushed both of your knees up to your chest bending you in half throwing all his weight into each thrust, skin slapping against skin your mind jumbled into nothing as his cock bullied into you completely.

"I meant what I said when I first had you like this under me darling. I want you nice and round with my babe, fuck, you'll look so breath taking. I know it. Come on, take all of it, I want you more than you know. You're all I can think about." Whining under him you tried to focus your vision but it was so blurry from the tears, you wondered if the whole task force shared the desire to breed as strongly, knowing that if they did, your pussy was going to be more than properly filled and used by all of them. Sooner rather than later you could bet that they're obsession to get you pregnant will happen and the thought made your walls flutter around John's cock. "Just like that baby, milk this cock, it's all yours. Go on."

Gasping you clenched around him and squirted, cumming hard, vision blacking out as you nearly screamed under him. Grunting, John continued to pump himself into you riding your orgasm out, unrelenting as he pushed his chest down on you, putting his forearms beside your head. "J-JOHN FUCK, YES, PLEASE, BREED ME! FILL ME, FUCK THERE!"

Kissing you, he moaned against you, hips slowly loosing their rhythm as he could feel his balls tightening, cock twitching in your spent walls, he never wanted to pull out of you. If he could he would live between your thighs, call himself blessed, and never leave you. Grunting against your lips he looked into your eyes, wiping your tears, "I will baby, fuck, I'll give your everything, you name it. God, what ever you need, I'm yours, fuck, I'll breed you just how you want." Pushing his hips flesh against you he stilled emptying his ball into you, pumping a few times to make sure it would go as deep as possible, filling you up.

Bringing each leg down slowly he set them on either side of his hip, continuing to slowly pump himself empty, before pulling you up to him and falling back laying you on him. Resting your head on his chest, you twirled the tips of your fingers through his chest hair catching your breath. "Did you mean what you said?"

Stroking your hair, rubbing his hand up and down your back he hummed, "What?"

"What you said? About... being mine?"

Chest bouncing as he chuckled you rested your chin on his pecs looking at him curiously, pouting slightly, "Oh darling, I meant every single word I said. You've been a rooted thought since the day Johnny brought you to the pub to meet us, even came back here and fucked my hand because of how much I wanted you."

Blushing at his words, you bit your lip and smirked crossing your arms and burying your face, "Oh."

"Oh? Oh? That's it?"

"I don't know, I didn't know that, but, I also, thought about you." You're voice was quiet and muffle but he heard, and his heart skipped a beat and chest rose with pride as he squeezed you against himself a little more.

"Sorry darling, but that just got me ready for another round." Pulling you up he lined his cock back up with your entrance as you looked down at him surprised.

"What, wait? I need a mi-" Gasping as he thrusted up into you, you moaned as he guided your hips on him.

The night was long as John made you squirt on his couch one more time before pounding you into his bed making you tell him of all the times you and Johnny talked about how he would use you to get off. All the while the other lads were still texting, separately sending you pictures of their cum filled hands, telling you of everything they had planned for you when they had you in their beds.

Just make sure you do a lot of stretching.🙈

Part 5

So ready to be bred and used, even more so for what the others have in store🫠. Hopefully this was good for you all.🤗

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