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jungkookslipring · 1 year ago

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I Will Never Make You Lonely: CH 2

Summary: When your life is falling apart, your 8 best friends are there to lift you up

TW: mentions of de&th, su!c!de, su!c!de tendencies, su!c!dal ideologies, depress!on, anxiety, crying. If this is in any way triggering I’d steer towards more of my happier works.

If you or someone you love has thought of or acted on suicide, there is help and there is hope

Call or text 988

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, non-idol AU

PSA: this is no way represents the artists. While their birth names are used in this story, this is in no way a reflection of the artist or artists in real life.

AU: this chapter is a little more lighthearted, but I wanted to add the trigger warnings just in case.

there is a tickle scene in here, so if it's not your cup of tea you are more than welcome to skip this chapter.

Ch 2

The last seven days have felt slow and dreadful, and all you could do was work. You were currently in the fourth week of your final quarter with midterms coming up soon. Although your friends have their own school work to worry about, they are starting to become worried about you. You haven't shown any signs of emotion since you received that phone call.

You would spend 12 to 16 hours each day reading, writing, deleting, and editing. However, when it was time for bed, you couldn't sleep. And even if you managed to sleep, you would have very vivid nightmares. As a result, more than half of the time, you would keep yourself busy by burning through homework assignments and projects.

Sometimes the guys would bring you food, drinks, or snacks because they knew you wouldn’t do it yourself, and you were now approaching a no-sleep streak of almost 72 hours. You truly didn’t know how you were still functioning, and they didn’t know either. One evening you were sitting at your windowsill, reading yet another case study. You closed your eyes for a split second before your heart nearly jumped out of your butt when Hyunjin, Han, and Minho burst into your room. You stared at them with your hand over your chest.

"What. the actual fuck is happening?" you ask trying to catch your breath. Hyunjin grabbed your textbook and Han grabbed a hold of your hands.

"Friday night movie night! Don't tell me you were going to skip!" Han said full of energy. Right, movie night. On any given day they would jump on your bed and quite literally drag you away from whatever you were doing so you could all binge-watch movies until the early AM, but Chris had warned them to leave you alone because you were studying. That didn't work out so well.

"If you want to study you can, we just thought you deserved a break," Minho said kindly. Han stood there swinging your arms side to side, patiently waiting for an answer.

"You haven't taken a proper break for days, y/n, and sleeping doesn't count as a break, which we know you haven't gotten a whole lot of either," Hyunjin said as he thumbed the dark circle under your eye gently. You exhaled and closed your eyes. All the shock mixed with not getting any sleep was not only mentally draining but also physically.

“I’m fine, I don’t sleep a whole lot anyways,” you said, shrugging it off, but if you spent the rest of the night studying, you were going to collapse, and the boys knew that. They suggested that you take a nice hot shower and meet them in the living room for some much-needed best-friend time. Seungmin was already on a mission to get your shower bomb that made the entire bathroom smell super citrusy and lit a candle to provide a little bit of light so that the overhead light wasn't so bright. After the shower, you walked into the bedroom and saw a pair of folded pajamas that were warm from just being pulled out of the dryer and placed on the bed. You felt so much love for those boys. There was a gentle knock at the door once you were dressed.

“Come in,” you called out. The door cracked open as Minho poked his head in the door frame.

“I made soup if you would like any,” he said sweetly. You gave him a smile as you whispered “Thank you”. He had sad eyes and a kind smile, he knew (they all knew) how hard you were taking everything. Minho slowly pushed past the door and walked up to you.

“Aigoo…” he whispered as he cupped your face, studying your features.

“You must be exhausted." You nodded and looked down at the floor.

“Would you like to eat? Even if it’s just a bite or two?” he asked. You nodded slowly as he carefully took a handful of your sweater paw and led you out of your bedroom. As you stepped out of the hallway into the kitchen, you noticed that the boys were scattered in the living room. They were having soup while the TV was on low volume, making sure not to be too loud. When you walked in, they greeted you with sweet smiles. Minho handed you a bowl of soup and led you to the couch. Changbin patted the spot between him and Han, inviting you to sit. You weren't sure which movie they had picked, but it managed to distract you. After you finished your soup, Han took your bowl while Changbin snuggled you close to his side. Han came back and stroked your hair while cooing at the both of you.

“Our baby,” he said sweetly.

“She’s not a baby, she’s older than you,” Changbin jokingly sassed at Han. Han put a hand over his heart and made the most extra gasp he had ever made. You giggled and patted Changbin’s hand.

“I’m older than you too you know,” you say while trying to hide a smile. Everyone in the room burst out laughing as Changbin gave you a look of betrayal.

“By two months!” he squawked at you as he began to poke your sides. You giggled as you buried yourself further between Changbin and the couch cushions, trying to get away from Changbin’s hands.

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere missy!” Changbin laughed as he pulled you onto his lap. He held you in his arms as he squeezed your side with one hand.

“Bihihin quit ihihihihit,” you giggled trying to fold in on yourself. Your arms were trapped under his so your whole midsection was exposed while Han grabbed a hold of your ankles to hold you down. You squeaked when Chris got on the couch, plopping himself right next to your hips, and pressed his fingers into your tummy, turning your giggles to laughter.

“Awww there’s that laugh we love so much, tickle tickle tickle,” he teased as his eyes turned into beautiful little crescents.

“YOU GUYHAHAHAHA YOU GUYS ARE SO BAHAHAHAHAD!” You threw your head back on Changbin’s shoulder as you continued to squeal while the boys cooed at your reaction. As the movie played on, three of the boys tickled and teased you while the rest looked on with adoration. It was heartwarming to see you smile again since they had missed it. After a few minutes, Chris and Changbin stopped tickling you, and you resumed cuddling with Changbin while Han kept your feet on his lap and tapped a beat on your calves. The group ended up having a movie marathon, with occasional pokes and squeezes from Changbin and Han.

As your favorite movie played on, Changbin noticed that you were starting to fall asleep on his chest. He began to play with your hair, alternating between massaging your head, rubbing his hand up and down your back, and gently running his fingers through your hair. The soft touches on your head and back and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat helped you fall into a peaceful sleep. Once you were asleep, Changbin nudged Han and pointed to you, indicating that you were out. Han quietly cooed at you and signaled everyone else that you were asleep. By the time the last movie had ended, it was almost 9 p.m., and Chris suggested that everyone should rest. Changbin picked you up and carried you to your bed without waking you up. He tucked you in, gave you a soft kiss on the forehead, turned off the lights, and closed the door.

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Stay tuned for CH 3!

taglist: @felixmainacc @felixburneracc @myforevermelody143 @dunno-wut-to-do @itzsana-kiddingmenow

#stray kids #stray kids x stay #stray kids fluff #skz fanfic #stray kids tickle #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids hurt/comfort #skz #skz scenarios #skz imagines #non idol au #stray kids college au #college au #hurt/comfort

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hanqu0kka · 3 years ago

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Between Guilt and Forgiveness

Pairing: Bang Chan x F!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Summary: You innocently thought that your week couldn't get any worse, but it all went downhill when you accidentally broke your boyfriend's laptop.

Warning: some swearing

Words: 2.4k

Author's Note: Hey guys, how you doing? I hope you like this! English is not my first language so I’m sorry for any grammar errors.

That was terrible.

Actually, terrible was far from describing what had happened. It was a catastrophe, a tragedy, the apocalypse itself, the end of the world. No, you still didn't think any of this was enough to sum up what you have done.

With tears burning in your eyes, you looked at Chan's laptop, the same laptop that contained years of work, compositions, unfinished songs, notes and contacts that were probably worth more than your small apartment in the center of the city. The same laptop that was now in front of you, completely turned off, without the slightest sign of life.

It had to be a nightmare. That couldn't be happening. You shifted the mouse, praying to all the gods in the universe for a miracle. Nothing. You desperately pressed the power button. Nothing. Your reflection on the off monitor seems to mock you.

Feeling that your tears were about to fall, you huddled yourself in the chair, hugging your knees tightly. You needed to remain calm and think of a rational solution.

How would Chan react? Would he be nervous? Angry? That was the only thing crossing your mind. The thought of him being disappointed and sad invaded your head, and that was enough to make you collapse.

Tears poured down your face, broken sobs escaped your lips, making your whole body tremble. You mentally cursed yourself for agreeing to use your boyfriend's laptop to study while he was rehearsing a new choreography.

What would you do now? You could gather some money working a few extra shifts to get him another laptop, but nothing would be able to repair all the work and effort that was lost.

You felt horrible. It's been a rough week. You could count on your fingers how many hours you had slept in the last seven days, courtesy of the three essays you left to do at the last minute, because you know… procrastination! But this was the icing on the cake. The wreath that was missing in your grave.

"Baby?"

Your whole body instantly tensed as you heard Chan's worried voice sound in the room. Distracted by your own thoughts, you barely heard him open the studio door.

His eyes were wide, his face was contorted with worry. Panic washed through your body, making you cry harder.

Chan closed the distance between you, wrapping your trembling body in a tight embrace. Chan's hugs were your safe haven, your anchor in the middle of the storm. No matter how bad things got, whenever he wrapped you in his strong arms, you felt safe, like nothing in the world could hurt you while he was there with you.

Tears soaked his sweatshirt but he didn't seem to mind. Instead, he gently stroked your back, depositing small pecks on the top of your head.

"Hey love, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Please talk to me."

Even being confused, his voice remained calm and warm, like a cup of tea on a rainy day. It only made you feel ten times worse. You didn't deserve him. As you stared into his pretty brown eyes, guilt started to eat up your chest, spreading fast through your lungs.

"S-sorry, I-I didn't..." You only noticed you were hyperventilating when Chan took your face in his hands. Concern covered his eyes.

"Sweetheart, you need to calm down. Can you take a deep breath for me? Here, let me help you. Try following me."

He placed your hand over his chest, cupping your cheek with his free hand. Even though you were a hot mess, you tried synchronizing your labored breathing with his.

"That's it. You're doing so well, angel." He whispered softly. "Everything is fine now, I promise. I got you."

Chan hated seeing you like this. It hurts him physically in an unexplainable way. His heart clenched painfully every time a single tear dropped from your precious eyes. It was his duty to make you happy, and seeing you like this, bursting into tears, made him feel as though he failed you.

Lately, he has been busier than usual, but he wasn't blind. He saw how stressed you were because of schoolwork. He knew you weren't sleeping properly or eating well. When you arrived at his studio, he clearly saw how tired you were. You looked like a cracked jar about to break. It was slowly killing him inside.

Chan insisted you got some rest, but you were too stubborn. So, he allowed you to study in his studio but promised himself that as soon as he finished his appointments, he would make sure to get you home and put you to rest before you broke down. But now he realized he was a little too late.

"I'm sorry." You muttered.

“You don't have to apologize, love. I know you're tired and-"

You interrupted him, “No, Chan. You don't understand. I-I did something… I-”

“Baby, it's okay. You only need to get some rest. You can't keep harming yourself like that.”

You knew it was wrong, but the way he was treating you, so patient and understanding, was making you annoyed. How could he not see the dead laptop hovering like a ghost right beside him? Couldn't he feel something was terribly wrong? That you were practically a murder?

Taking a deep breath, you decided it was better to just say it all at once. As they say, sometimes you just have to rip off the band-aid.

"Chan, I broke your laptop." You said in one breath, squeezing your eyes shut.

A sudden silence fell over the room, the only noises coming from the air-conditioning in the ceiling. You watched with a sinking heart while Chan's previously serene face turned into an expression of astonishment. Looking to his right, he finally saw the black screen of his laptop. His lips formed a small "o" shape. He blinked fast as if he was having trouble processing what you just said.

"What?" He said in disbelief.

Not knowing what to do, you started rambling, “I-I don't know what happened, I swear. I was almost finishing my essay, but the screen suddenly switched off and I couldn't get it to switch up again. I swear it was an accident, I really don't know what I did wrong. It was alive and suddenly. Poof! It blacked out and went to the land of dead electronics. I'm sorry. I’m so sor-”

"Y/n, shut the fuck up," Chan whispered coldly.

You were proud to say you could read him like an open book, but at that moment, you had no idea what was going on in his head. His face was impassive, his eyes were dark and distant, but you couldn't make out any emotion.

"How could you do that?" He finally said after a long silence. "Do you know how many important files I had saved in there?"

"Chan, I-"

"I've told you to be careful!"

"I know, but-" You tried again.

"I was nearly finishing a song that took me days to produce." He yells, making you involuntarily flinch. "Fuck, y/n!"

"I'm sorry."

"I know you always delay and don't give a shit about your work, but that doesn't give you the right to fuck up with mine!"

"I'm sorry." You muttered under your breath.

He scoffed, running a hand through his messy hair.

Chan's head spun fast. Despair rose in his stomach like a frightening monster, enveloping and twisting every organ in his body. He paced back and forth across the room.

Part of him wanted to scream and cry at the thought of all the things he had lost, and he was really about to explode, but all the anger he felt vanished into thin air when he saw your tear-up eyes filled with guilt.

He let out a long breath. It wasn't time to lose his mind, you needed him right now. Carefully, he pressed your body against his, giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted. When he felt your arms wrap around his back, he let his head rest in the crook of your neck, getting intoxicated in your familiar scent.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He said, fighting his own tears. Now that the anger was gone, the full impact of what he had done weighed on his shoulders.

“Don't apologize. It's my fault, I deserve this.”

“No, you don't. I'm sorry for yelling at you, I don't know what got into me. I'm such a jerk."

"I'm sorry." You repeated like a broken record.

"Shhh, it's okay."

“I always screw things up.”

"What are you talking about? You never screw anything, love. It's quite the opposite, you always make everything better. So, please, don't say that. It was an accident, okay? It wasn't your fault, you don't need to cry."

"But-"

“Shhh, it's okay, I promise. I'll solve this. Now stop crying, you know I hate seeing you like this.”

He pulled away, placing a comforting kiss on your temple before heading towards his laptop.

Tucking your head into your knees, you stifled a sob, trying to stay as quiet as possible. He was still disappointed in you. You were sure of it, but Chan was just too kind to show it. He always puts others’ needs and comfort over his own. But you messed up real bad this time. It was only a matter of time before he realized you were a burden in his life, that he would be better without you.

"I know it won't solve anything, but I'll get you a new one-" Your rant was cut by Chan's loud laugh exploding in the room.

This is it. He's gone completely insane.

When you looked up, you found your boyfriend lying on the floor, laughing so hard that tears sprang in his eyes. A small light on your left caught your eye. You almost had a heart attack when you saw the laptop, the dead laptop, restarting.

“W-what? How…” Nothing else made sense to your fried brain.

"Baby, you didn't break anything." He said breathlessly. "The laptop was only discharged. I simply plugged in the charger."

"Oh."

A wave of embarrassment swept through your body, making your face burn more than the sun itself. Dumb, dumb, dumb! How did you not notice that before? It was so painfully obvious, so fucking simple.

"I must have forgotten to put it to charge this morning." He smirks playfully. "And you were probably so focused on your work that you missed the warning to plug in the charger."

"Ah."

Your brain was so melted, you felt like a baby who couldn't form a single phrase. So you did the only thing you could still properly do at the moment: you bury your head in your hands.

“Aww, you don't need to feel embarrassed, my love. It's fine. I said you never screw anything up.” He lowered your wrists and filled your face with kisses. “Wow, you're so red. Stop being so cute, you're going to end up killing me like this.”

"I'm not cute, I'm stupid."

"This is not true. You're just tired, that's all.” You eyed him suspiciously, making him laugh. "And maybe you're a little forgetful, but just a little bit."

You whined, "I thought I broke it."

“Nah, you didn't. In the end, it was all my fault.”

"How can this be your fault, Christopher Bang?" You asked indignantly. He grimaced at the sound of his full name.

"I should have told you the battery was low." He shrugged. You open your mouth to retort, but he cuts you off quickly. “And it's no use saying otherwise. It's my fault, end of discussion.”

"You're too stubborn."

"Everyone has their flaws, right?" You just rolled your eyes. He looked at you with a teasing gleam in his eyes. “You need to rest now. Enough of killing my heart saying you broke my precious laptop.”

“Chaaan.” You cried, still embarrassed by what happened.

“Come on, you need to sleep, otherwise you'll soon become a member of baboracha."

“I hate you,” you said, pouting. "Don't tell anyone about this."

“I'm joking, I'm joking. I swear I won't. Now, come here."

He pulled you gently, bringing your lips together in a calm and comforting kiss. It didn't take long for him to deepen the kiss, it seemed like he was trying to assure you that everything was fine, that he'd love you anyhow. He slowly parted your lips and rested his forehead on yours. He looked down at you, concern shining in his eyes.

"I'm really sorry for earlier. I hope you know I didn’t mean none of the things I said."

"It's fine." You peck his lips again.

"No. It’s not. I know college hasn't been easy, but you always give your best in everything you do. I'm so proud of you. Sorry for saying those mean things."

"Chan, stop. You were mad, I get it."

"Still, that's no excuse for what I did."

"Oh my God, what do I have to do to make you stop apologizing?"

"I don't know," He said with a shy smile. "Maybe you could kiss me? I think my lips miss yours already."

You smiled softly at seeing him so shy and flustered, his ears burning in a bright red. You leaned in and kissed him, granting his wish without a second thought.

For the rest of the night, you both cuddle on the small sofa in his studio, listening to some music on Chan's laptop, which, thank God, wasn't broken. You lost count of how many times he had apologized between sweet kisses, but you were there by his side, assuring him that everything was fine.

The next morning, you were happily eating your breakfast in Stray Kids' dorm, waiting for your boyfriend to get out of the shower, when Hyunjin tossed himself in the chair beside you, smiling mischievously.

"So, y/n... I came to welcome you!"

"What? Hyunjin, it's not even my first time here." You said, confused.

"You dummy." He laughed, flicking your head lightly. "Chan told us what you did last night, and we all agreed that you're officially the new member of baboracha. Congratulations!"

"HE WHAT?" You yelled, choking on the juice you were drinking.

"Well, welcome! Now I should probably get going, you look exactly like Kkami when I forget to feed him."

"CHRISTOPHER BANG YOU'RE DEAD."

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fett-djarin · 3 years ago

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Stress Relief

Here it is! This is entirely self indulgent and filthy! Im a wh*re for the croissant guards

Also I headcanon Fox looking like how amikoroyoaiart draws him. her art is so good!

Commander Fox x f!reader

Crossposted on ao3

Rating: 18+

Length: 3.9k

Warnings/Tags: Oral (m receiving), that good sloppy toppy, office sex, cursing, light grinding, making out

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

Bringing the Guard their morning caf had become a tradition, of sorts. You knew the caf in the mess wasn’t good--in fact, it was barely even palatable. When you first started as a new secretary, it had been your timid way of offering friendship to the imposing troopers who worked so hard to keep the planet safe. They warmed to you quickly. Thire was the first to remove his helmet in front of you, plonking it down on your desk and taking a long pull of caf barely a second after you handed it to him. At your stunned look, he had just raised a brow and said, “Long patrol last night,” with a shrug.

As the others had become more comfortable with you, you had seen most of them without their buckets at some point--except for Fox. He always took his caf with a polite “Thank you, ma’am,” and retreated to his office. You knew it was against regulation for them to remove their helmets while they were on duty. But even when you dropped off the caf in his office, he was at his desk with his helmet on.

“He keeps it on so you can’t tell if he’s actually asleep,” Thorn told you one day. “I suspect he even does it while we’re standing guard sometimes.” You laughed aloud at that. The serious Commander Fox, asleep standing up. He was right though, you never would be able to tell.

The first time Fox removed his helmet in front of you, you hadn’t expected the gray dusting his temples, but honestly you weren’t surprised. The poor man was stressed beyond belief and worked half to death. You were more surprised that he finally did it in the first place. Fox sighed, running a hand through his unruly curls, before taking the caf and giving you a tired smile. He thanked you by name that time. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

From then on, he had been without it more when you went into his office. You even caught him sleeping once--head resting on his folded arms, bucket set next to him--and had done your best to deliver the caf without waking him. Maker knew he needed the sleep more than he needed hot caf--if Thorn hadn’t told you he snuck naps with the helmet on, you would think he ran off caf and stubborn will alone.

One morning, after you had passed out caf to the others--and a little cup of whipped cream for Grizzer--Fox hadn’t made an appearance, so you made your way to his office to drop it off. You knocked lightly on the door. “Come in,” his gruff voice called, and the door slid aside. You smiled at him, noting the way his shoulders visibly relaxed at seeing it was just you. You set the cup down on his desk. You had just turned when a touch on your wrist stopped you.

Fox was looking up at you, helmet cocked to the side. “You know you don’t have to bring us caf every time you work, right? The boys better not be nagging you for it.”

“I know,” you said. “I enjoy doing it. And it’s the least I could do.”

“The least you could do?”

“You all work so hard. You deserve more, even if it’s just better caf.”

He squeezed your wrist gently. “You don’t owe us anything. It is our duty to the Republic--”

“I know, Fox,” you tried to hide your grin, and failed. “But you’re also my friends.”

That seemed to surprise him, hand falling from your wrist as he sat back in his chair and regarded you curiously. You made your way back to the door, pausing in the entryway and looking back over your shoulder.

“Have a good morning, Commander.”

“...You as well, ma’am.”

The door slid shut behind you. Fox slipped his helmet off, setting it on his desk and staring hard at the door you had disappeared through. His eyes flicked to the paper cup of steaming caf, brows furrowed.

It was the first time you had called him by his name.

Friends?

----

After that day, Fox seemed to be trying to talk to you more. Instead of taking his caf and running off, he would stay, either to chat or just hang around for a minute with you and the other Guards. Stone nudged Thire, who nudged Thorn, and they all looked over to where Fox leaned his hip casually against your desk and you were laughing at something he said.

“Did someone replace Fox while we weren’t looking?” Thire questioned under his breath.

“I’ve never seen him so...cheery,” Stone said.

You smiled up at Fox, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. They watched as your fingers grazed the back of his hand where it rested on your desk. “Think something’s goin’ on between those two?” Thorn asked, gesturing vaguely over towards you and Fox with his cup.

“Absolutely.” Thire didn’t hesitate to answer.

The three quickly snapped to attention as Fox excused himself, heading their direction. You gave them a small wave. Thorn was about to wave back before Thire thumped him in the arm.

“Don’t you have duties to attend to?” Fox grumbled as he passed them, heading to his office. “Get to it.” You hid your laugh behind your hand seeing the three Commanders scramble to disperse.

Evening rolled around, and you cocked your head side to side, stretching your neck and shoulders. You had been going over forms all day, datapad after datapad, organizing reports and requests for the Chancellor and the Senate. Your shift was almost over, and you were getting ready to go home for the night.

Various members of the Guard had come and gone, leaving and returning from patrols. Senators and representatives had filtered through; less and less as the evening progressed. You were just getting ready to leave when Fox stalked through, back from his rounds, tense and practically vibrating with irritation. He didn't even spare you a glance as he disappeared into his office. If the doors weren't automatic, he likely would have slammed it shut.

You knew he had a thankless job--a job he had no say in having, either. Usually it was something to do with the Chancellor that got him so worked up. Half the time you thought Fox would strangle the man himself if he could. Maybe you should take Fox out to one of the cafes nearby, just for a second to breathe and not carry the weight of the Guard on his shoulders. Was that against regulation? It might be better to invite him back to your apartment. Or did that imply too much?

You pushed yourself up from your chair, mind made up. He could always say no. You wouldn’t be offended.

You paused outside the door to his office, listening carefully. You couldn’t hear anything from the other side. So, you knocked.

“What.” Fox’s biting tone surprised you, but you didn’t take it personally.

“Commander? I...It’s me,” you said hesitantly, and then wanted to smack yourself. Confidence. “Is everything alright?”

No response. You took the silence as a sign that he wasn’t interested in talking. That was fine. You didn’t want to impose if he needed time to himself. The door slid open just as you had stepped back, intending to leave. Fox sighed, jerking his head to direct you inside.

The door shut behind you, and Fox sat heavily in his chair at the desk. Another deep sigh, and his shoulders slumped. He pulled his helmet off, setting it aside, and you caught a glimpse of the dark circles under his eyes before he put his head in his hands.

“Commander Fox?” You took a tentative step forward, so you were close enough to reach out and touch his shoulder.

He looked up at you. There was still tension lining his shoulders, hands flexing into fists and then relaxing. Stress. He opened his mouth to say something, frowned, and then closed it again. He cleared his throat. “Did you need something?” You could tell he was making an effort to soften his voice, likely as to not snap at you again.

“I just wanted to check in, sir,” you said, coming around the desk to stand next to him, leaning your weight against it. “It looked like something was bothering you.”

He waved his hand in the air vaguely, brows pinched. “You don’t have to call me ‘sir,’ you’re not one of my men.” He looked like he was debating saying more, so you waited patiently, quietly, hoping he recognized that you were here to listen if he so needed.

��As you likely know, there’s a gala coming up. Senators, politicians, ambassadors, Jedi….” Fox huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s going to be a security nightmare. And the Chancellor,” he spat, venom in his voice, “has been on my case about patrols and the Guard. Always demanding more. We’re spread too thin, and not getting the support we need--” he cut himself off. He was getting himself worked up again.

You placed your hand over his where it was clenched into a fist on the desk. It relaxed under your touch. Fox heaved another sigh mixed with a groan. “I’m behind on paperwork too,” he glared at the stack of datapads sitting to the side. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to find the time to do everything.”

“Hmm,” you reached over and picked up one of the datapads, skimming through it, hopping up so you were now sitting on the desk. It was just a patrol report that needed Fox’s signature before being filed. “What’s your CC number?”

“CC-1010,” he answered instantly, then regarded you with suspicion. “Why?”

You signed the bottom of the form: CC-1010, “Fox,” and submitted it.

“What are you doing?” his voice seemed to have kicked up an octave.

“Helping you with your work. I deal with paperwork and holoforms all the time,” you said, picking up another datapad and scanning through the information. “Most of the time it’s to make sure there’s a document trail. Most of these probably don’t need an in-depth review, they’re not important. They just go in the archives and are never looked at again.”

“I--you--that’s illegal,” he sputtered. But he seemed more surprised than serious.

You raised a brow at him, signing his designation and name once again before submitting the next form. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“No,” he didn’t hesitate. Interesting. Then he had a thought. “Your handwriting doesn’t even look like mine.”

“Doesn’t it?” you showed him where you had signed. It was almost identical to his scrawling script. His eyes flicked between the form and your face, incredulity on his features.

“How…?”

You shrugged. “It’s something I’ve always been good at. Saved me a lot of trouble as a kid when I needed my parents to sign for something at school. Especially when it was a disciplinary note.” Fox barked a disbelieving laugh at that and you couldn’t help your sly smile. “Even if I didn’t mimic your signature, no one would notice. Or care. You could mark the lines with an X and it would go through; it’s only the acknowledgement they care about. You can even draw a loth-cat face and have that be in the archive forever as a signature.”

“Don’t you dare,” he threatened with a chuckle. “Some of these aren’t just patrol reports though. I actually have to read through the more important ones.”

You handed him a holopad as you picked up your third. “How’s this: we work on these together; if I find one that has important information or requires more than a signature, I’ll give it to you.”

He regarded you for a long moment, debating your offer. Some of the weight had lifted from his shoulders; he looked less tense, less overwhelmed, even less exhausted. Then he slowly nodded. “All right,” he said. “But you have to let me buy you coffee for once.”

“You don’t have to do that--”

“We’re friends. Right?”

That stopped you short. You did consider him and the other guards friends, but to hear him say that he also considered you one...it was nice. It made a pleasant warmth flutter in your stomach, and you couldn’t help your shy smile at his words. “Right,” you agreed. The soft upturn of his lips made your breath hitch. He looked so young when he smiled.

The two of you worked in companionable silence, steadily making your way through the stack of datapads. You had been correct--most of them were unimportant; standard reports and forms that required a signature purely for protocol. Every once in a while you handed one over to Fox for him to read through. Slowly, your free hands had crept together, and Fox hoped to the Maker that you didn’t notice how warm his cheeks had gotten.

Your thumb rubbed soothing circles over the back of his hand, and he didn’t notice he was staring at the way your fingers moved rather than reading through the form you handed him until you cleared your throat. “Fox?” you asked quietly. His gaze landed on your lips. He wanted you to keep saying his name, he wanted to hear it again and again--

You brushed a stray curl back from his forehead. A tug on your arm had you stumbling forward off-balance, and you would have fallen if strong arms had not wrapped around you and pulled you into an armored chest. Heat rushed to your face at the new position you found yourself in: sat in Fox’s lap, his hand still entwined with yours.

Then he kissed you.

It was gentle, soft. His lips pressed to yours chastely, far more gently than you expected him to be, and you felt the datapad fall from your hand. The sharp clatter of it hitting the ground made Fox pull back, but then you grasped the back of his neck, twining your fingers in his curls, and pulled him back to your mouth. He tossed his own back on the desk with a groan as your lips met again.

You licked the seam of his lips, and he opened for you. Fox was content to let you lead. His hand gripped your hip, and he sighed into your kisses, melting from your affection. You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that--tasting, breathing each other in, sharing languid kisses full of pent-up desire.

His wild curls were soft in your fingers, and he all but purred when you lightly scratched your nails along his scalp. The hard plastoid of his thigh plates was uncomfortable underneath you, and you shifted your hips slightly in an effort to find a more comfortable spot. The breath hissed out through Fox's teeth, and your face flushed with warmth realizing you had brushed against his codpiece. His fingers tightened on your hip and thigh, pulling you towards him, encouraging your hips to roll against him again.

It was an awkward angle, with you sitting with your legs thrown over his lap, but from the hitch in Fox’s breathing it was doing something for him. You hummed into his mouth before pushing yourself up, holding onto his broad shoulders for support as you swung one leg over so you were now straddling him, chest to chest.

“Better?” he rumbled, nipping your bottom lip before soothing the sting with his tongue. You squeaked as his palms cupped and squeezed your ass, tugging you closer. Both of you basked in each other's eager little breaths and soft noises, hungry and wanting for more.

"Mhmm." The new position allowed you to feel the firmness of Fox's codpiece against your center when you pressed your hips into his. Fox really appreciated the new position, with your tits against his chest and free access to grope your ass. He almost whined into your mouth at the steady slow grind you started against him.

You wanted to hear that noise again. An idea struck you. You wanted to taste him. One more deep kiss, then you shimmied back off his lap. Fox made a noise of protest and tried to pull you back to him, but you just grinned and shooed his hands away. The floor was cold on your knees as you settled between his spread legs.

“What are you--oh,” he cut off with a harsh breath as your deft fingers unclasped his codpiece and tossed it away. Immediately, your palm cupped the warm bulge at the front of his blacks. He shifted in his seat, and you noticed his cheeks and ears had flushed a shade darker. How cute.

“Commander,” you purred, slowly stroking him through the fabric.

“Y-yes, cyare?” His hands flexed at the arms of his chair. He was struggling to not reach out and pull you back on his lap. Normally so composed, Fox now looked wrecked with his lips slightly parted, kiss-swollen, and hair mussed.

“Will you let me suck your cock?”

Fox spluttered and fumbled at your bluntness. You bit your bottom lip, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, still slowly stroking him over his blacks. You could see him fighting with himself. Maker, he wanted it. He wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his length. But he also didn’t want you to feel like you had to--he also desperately wanted to pleasure you.

“Please?” you leaned forward and mouthed at his clothed erection, letting your spit soak the fabric. Your eyes locked with his, looking up at him with your best faux-innocent look, like you had no idea what you were doing to him. But Maker, you were hungry. You wanted him.

“Fuck,” the word sounded as if it had been punched out of him. His pupils were blown wide, black swallowing the rich brown of his irises. “Fuck, yes--”

You wasted no time in tugging the band of his blacks down. A shiver worked its way through him; seeing you on your knees in front of him was a dream--a dirty little fantasy he would never admit to. Many nights alone in his quarters or in the showers he had roughly fisted his cock to the thought of you in situations that were most definitely unprofessional, biting the back of his hand to keep his noises at bay. And now here you were, the sweet secretary, making his dreams become reality.

The sliver of warm skin revealed to you made you instantly want more, and you couldn’t stop from pressing a light kiss to his hip. Then you eased his leaking cock from his blacks. Fox hissed in a breath through his teeth as your hand loosely wrapped around him, pumping his length slowly. The precum that dribbled from the tip slicked your grip. He was thick and firm in your hand, like velvet-wrapped durasteel.

The first stroke of your tongue against his cock made him curse. You licked slowly, working your way from tip to base and back, tracing the pulsing vein that ran along the underside. Taking the head of his cock in your mouth, you tasted the salty tang of the precum that leaked from him. When you hummed around him, his hand shot to your hair, fingers winding through the strands. He didn’t push you down or pull you away; instead, he merely just...held on.

Fox’s breathing kicked up watching you worship his cock with your tongue and hands. You enjoyed watching him try to hold himself together, slowly making him fall apart piece by piece. Your head bobbed up and down his length, each time taking more of him. Your hand continued to pump and work the rest you hadn’t fit in your mouth. He breathed out a string of words in a language you didn’t understand, but from the tone it sounded like he was praising you.

All his little noises were making the heat coil in your core. Wetness pooled between your legs, and you clenched your thighs together for the slightest bit of relief. You closed your eyes to concentrate, focusing on the weight of his cock on your tongue, the heat of his body. You slowly took more of him in your mouth until you felt his tip bump the back of your throat. Breathe through your nose. Fighting off your gag reflex, you swallowed around him.

“Shit! Shit, mesh’la--” Fox cried out above you, feeling your throat constrict around his length. He tugged gently on your hair, and you pulled off him with a gasp. “Fuck, if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum in your mouth.” It was meant to be a warning, but he sounded too breathless for it to carry any weight.

“But Commander,” you looked up at him, enveloping the tip of his cock in the heat of your mouth and gently sucking. His thighs twitched under your hands, cock throbbing, and you pulled off with an obscene pop. “That’s the best part.”

You were messy, letting saliva drip from your mouth and down his cock. You sucked, licked, and kissed every inch of his length until it was sopping. When you ducked down to take his balls in your mouth, his breath hitched, hand tightening in your hair, and a low moan came from him.

“Gedet’ye, mesh’la, gedet’ye--” Fox choked out.

“Hm?” You pulled back, hand wrapped around his cock and continued to pump him tightly. You twisted your wrist when your hand brushed over his head. He was panting lightly, and looked deliciously wrecked.

“Gedet’ye,” he said again, “please.”

You smiled at him, and he felt his heart jump. You looked filthy, lipstick--Coruscant guard red?--smeared, lips and chin wet with spit. “I want you to cum in my mouth, Fox.” Then you brought your mouth back to his cock and sucked, laving your tongue over the sensitive head as one hand stroked the base. The other came up to cradle his balls, and he was done for.

Fox cursed up a storm in both Basic and Mando’a, nearly doubling over as his orgasm was wrenched out of him by your clever mouth. You kept your gaze connected with his, eyes hazy and half-lidded. Warm spurts of his release filled your mouth and you eagerly swallowed it down, milking his cock until he had nothing left. Subtly, you rubbed your thighs together, so turned on it nearly hurt. Seeing Fox fall apart for you stoked the fire of arousal in your core.

He had an arm thrown over his eyes as he slumped in his chair, chest heaving for breath. “Stars above, you’re going to kill me,” he said. You giggled, hands running soothing motions over his thigh plates, even though he couldn’t feel it through the plastoid. He looked boneless and sated, which was exactly your intention--well, part of your intention.

Then he was guiding you back up, cupping your cheek and kissing you hard. It was desperate, deep, filled with so much emotion that you couldn’t decipher it, you only knew that you felt the same. You moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss, and you noticed the glint in his eye and his sly grin before he kissed you again, standing and guiding you back to sit on his desk.

“Now it’s my turn.”

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struggling-with-time · 3 years ago

Note

Could I ask for c!Wilbur being a gn reader's father figure? Can be either a one shot or headcanons, whichever you prefer. ^_^

Paring: c!Wilbur Soot x Gender Neutral!reader

Summary: Your life as raised by Wilbur Soot.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, betrayal, hurt.

Words: 1.7k

A/N: I'm not sorry for this, however, I am sorry for if you wanted something different, then you are welcome to request again and I will write another dadbur fic. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Request here.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Wilbur Soot

He finds you lurking around the outer skirts of the newly established country of L’Manberg. The country that has yet to declare full independence.

“Hey there, what are you doing around these parts?”

From that day on he took you, the bewildered child from nowhere, under his wing. Letting you into the drug van.

You grow up with Fundy being your older sibling. Wilbur in the first years being there for the two of you.

He teaches you how to play the guitar.

And while you don’t become the best player at it, you can play a couple of camp songs.

Then the independence declaration comes.

And everything changes.

Nice nights with Wilbur, Fundy and Tommy turn into war planning sessions you aren’t allowed into.

You are the youngest citizen of L’Manberg, leading to everyone trying to keep your innocence

Especially Wilbur after he drags Fundy in as a child soldier in his war.

But you are there, right on the battlefield amongst everyone, and you are there afterwards as you help patch up the hurt.

Eret is the one who teaches you how to treat a wound after Wilbur gets an arrow in his shoulder after a tough battle.

Leading to you keeping to Eret whenever Wilbur is planning. And Fundy seems to be running off with Tubbo and Tommy.

On the day of the betrayal, Eret and Wilbur make you stay back in the van, Eret hoping to shield you from what’s gonna go down. And Wilbur hoping to keep you away from the battle on the horizon.

You are there to patch up the wounds from everyone as they respawn.

Wilbur is now more determined to keep you sheltered.

However, this made you more determined to stand on the battlefield fighting for your country.

You are there in the middle of the explosions when they go off. Losing your first life. Fighting for freedom. Fighting for your pseudo father.

Wilbur holds you for hours afterwards.

As you cry into his shoulder.

Wilbur makes you stay back when Tommy is meant to dual Dream, leading to you being the first to see him when he respawns.

Ah, two of the four children traumatised by a war they didn’t ask for.

You are there when the declaration of independence gets signed.

Getting credited as the 2nd little champion.

And everything is good for a while.

Wilbur helps you through your nightmares whenever you wake up thinking there is TNT blowing you up. Or you remember the day everyone respawned. Or remember how hurt and wounded everyone was doing the battles.

You watch as your father drowns himself in government work to not process what happened himself.

You try your best to help him out, but there is only so much you can do.

Then the election gets called, and you are there supporting him, while also helping your big brother Fundy with his campaign.

Wilbur didn’t take lightly to both of his children running a campaign against him. But he lived with it and respected it.

Then Schlatt won.

And you watched as your father and Tommy was chased out of the city.

Fundy holding you back as you break down crying over the sight.

Fundy keeps you from joining Pogtopia, stating it is no place for a child, despite him working as a spy for them and Tommy living there.

So you stay put in the now Manberg.

You are there to pick up the pieces of your older brother falls apart after your father calls him a traitor and states he’s no son of his.

So you venture out through the big forest. Barely stumbling into Pogtopia as nightfall has come.

And you get to see with your own eyes as the man you regards as your father yells at Tommy, Wilbur looks deranged and nothing like the man who raised you.

He never spots you that day, but Tommy does as you head back out again. Through the night filled with horrors beyond your imagination, and you barely make it back to Manberg in one piece.

You aren’t there the day Schlatt gets murdered, having retreated into isolation after having your worldview shattered. A child of war, now a child of trauma.

But you are there, right in the centre cheering on Tubbo as he’s granted the title of L’Manbergs president.

Your own fathers’ actions taking your second life too. You die in the explosion.

From that day on your anxiety worsen, loud noises bringing you to your knees in panic attacks. It had been bad after the war, but now it was unbearably bad.

Fundy started talking with Eret about potential adoption, but he only ends up adopting you, stating Fundy is too old.

And that’s how you deal with your father’s death. Living with the traitor of his country.

And you keep living. Denouncing him as your father, returning to your title of the bewildered child of nowhere.

You keep living in spite. In spite of the man who took two of your lives and made you grow up in a war you never wanted to fight in. And there, while looking over the railing of L’Manberg, is where you spot him.

Ghostbur

You watch as a tinted floating version of your former father wanders around the mostly rebuild crater.

“…Dad?”

“Y/N! My child!”

You can’t believe your own eyes, it’s actually him, it’s actually the man who found you wandering the skirts of the nation you now reside nearby.

And you turn your back to him.

You walk home, to your place in the castle, outside the nation that has caused you so much hurt.

Fundy is the one to make you talk to Ghostbur the second time, telling you about what seems to be going on.

“Would you like some blue Y/n? You’re crying.”

You refuse, wiping your tears away because he doesn’t deserve that from you. He doesn’t deserve the tears he caused himself.

You never call him dad again after the day you spot him. Because your dad died a traitor of the country he made. Leaving you at 14 to deal with the damages he had done.

But now you are 16, with Eret in your back, and your big brother Fundy helping you in any way or form he can. This includes, even more, sheltering, keeping you as far away from the Tubbo administration as he can.

Because you are all children of war, and they never seem to make the right decisions.

His heart breaks every time you remind him that he isn’t your father anymore and that you aren’t his child.

You don’t ever really hang around Ghostbur.

The few times you do, he tells you of stories of you growing up, teaching you guitar, finding you walking around the walls of the country. And he introduces you to your Grandpa Philza. A calm and relatively collected man.

A murder.

Whom took your father away from you all to early.

You like Friend, the blue sheep is a nice distraction to have nearby whenever your deceased father tries to be near you.

You appreciate the effort he makes, wishing he would have made the same efforts when Schlatt helps you within the walls of Manberg.

So when Tommy gets exiled and Ghostbur goes along with him, you aren’t surprised.

It’s always Tommy. And you are alright with that. Both you and Fundy knew from the start, it was always Tommy over the two of you. And you’ve had years to come to terms with that.

You keep yourself neutral in the affairs of the SMP.

Although you do visit Tommy twice, trying to get Fundy with you, but your older brother has a small distaste for the exiled ex-vice president, although he claims to have nothings against the blonde.

You keep out of the city as Tommy gets imprisoned, but you are there to greet him when he gains his freedom. Ghostbur beside you. Offering Tommy blue, and empty promises it of everything being okay now.

So when Tommy tells you he’s gonna smuggle himself into the prison with the help of the ghost, you are there handing him the potions.

When he returns only baring Friend on her leash, you break down. You lost your father once more.

Revivebur

You get an eerily sense of déjà vu over seeing him, standing over the now L’Manberg doomsday crater.

And you speak the word you had sworn to never say to him again.

“Dad?”

And he looks back, taking in the sight of you, Tommy, Tubbo & Ranboo together.

And he smiles.

And you leave.

You don’t end up talking to him again until Tommy seeks you out asking for you to talk to him, and for Fundy to do the same. You don’t know why, but you do it.

So you and Fundy meet him.

“Ah! My children!”

Fundy frowns, and you for the first time stand up to him.

“I am not your child. I am not yours!”

“What?”

“You haven’t been around for a really long time, a lot of things have changed, and so have I.”

You are seething, and for once Fundy doesn’t hold you back, or shelters you. He stands beside you.

“We had to raise ourselves! We had to keep on living after you decided to go blow your precious nation.”

“But you turned out fine! You are all grown up now, and you still have two lives each.”

Fundy pulls you into him, realising Wilbur doesn’t know.

“Y/n is on their last life. You took their second one too. You blew them up yourself. We are done here we are leaving.”

Wilbur calls out to you and Fundy, but neither of you turn around. He might have taken you in, but in the end, the two of you only ever had each other.

Children of war, never get to be children after all.

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur soot x reader #dadbur #fundy #fundy x reader #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fanfic #ghostbur #revivebur #ghostbur headcanon #wilbur headcanon #revivebur x reader #gender neutral!reader #delias own writing

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wkemeup · 4 years ago

Text

Sunrise (10)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 6.9k warnings: smut (18+), angsty angst, this time I dont leave you with a cliff hanger 😉 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

“Come on, Bucky! I know you’re in there!”

You hit your fist on the door again. Perhaps you would have been more mindful of the the hour, but you’d heard glass shattering as you raced up the stairway just moments ago. You’d heard him shouting himself hoarse and heavy footsteps as he paced inside his apartment. You’d heard the cracks in his voice – the consumption of grief and fury and shame swallowing him whole.

One of Bucky’s neighbors had rung Sam the first time Bucky’s screams could be heard through the thin apartment walls. It was the fifth time in as many nights and Sam promised Bucky would get it under control before they went to the landlord with noise complaints. He made no such promises that he would be the one to do it.

An elderly woman in a nightgown peeped her head out into the hallway, scowling at you as you continued pounding on the door. Her beady eyes narrowed and you only spared her a moment’s glance before you returned to the door.

“I’ll wake up the whole building! I swear to—”

The door was pulled from under your fist. In its frame, stood a ghostly version of the man you knew. Dark circles hung heavy under his eyes. His hair was disheveled, blood dripped from a cut in his palm. Behind him, furniture was turned on its side, glass on the floor, magazines and unopened mail littering every surface. He'd torn his place apart.

“What are you doing here?”

You swallowed, forcing your voice stronger than you felt. “Sam called me.”

Bucky’s grip on the doorknob tightened. “Of course, he did.”

He paused only for a moment before he turned his back to you and walked inside the apartment. The door was left open in his wake and you took it as permission to enter.

Cautiously, you took your first steps into his apartment. You tried to ignore the dust lining the curtains and the fleeting thought wondering when the last time he’d allowed the sun to touch his skin. The latch clicked behind you and you winced at the intrusion to the silence.

Bucky meanwhile was staring out into the mess of his living room. His gaze rested on the couch turned on its side, then to the box of trinkets spilled on the floor by the mantel, then the broken glass by the window. His shoulders sagged; his expression unreadable. Slowly, he knelt down to the edge of the couch to flip it back on its legs.

You watched him carefully, not uttering a word or daring to move closer until he finished. Once the couch was right side up again, he exhaled a tired breath and leaned against the edge. Exhaustion flickering through his eyes, though you suspected it had little to do with the exertion of moving furniture.

As Bucky moved to throw the cushions back to the frame, you realized suddenly how he was dressed. Plaid blue pajama pants hung low on his waist. Bare feet prodding over hardwood floors too close to where broken shards of glass waited. His chest was exposed; skin glazed in the dim glow of moonlight as it peered through the small slit between the curtains.

You could see his shoulder blades move along his back as he tensed. The lines of his spine and the dips along his hipbones. When he turned to face you again, your eyes were drawn to his shoulder and the frayed mess of scar tissue and burns. It was mesmerizing, the intricate patterns and the markings on his skin. Pink and red and faded with time. You wondered if it still hurt, if he could feel the nerve endings there or—

Your gaze flickered back to Bucky’s. He was watching you, barely taking a breath. So vulnerable as he stood in front of you and he had no time to prepare for it. He probably didn’t realize how exposed he was until he noticed you staring. You’d imposed on his home, on his space. He couldn’t have known he’d be confronted with this tonight.

All the effort it took for him to simply remove his jacket and now he was left standing before you without a single layer to protect him.

You could see the doubt swimming behind his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to pretend like this connection between you was something he could easily push away, like he could let go of it without much of a second thought or a single word in his own defense, you could tell he was ripping himself apart at the seams, wondering whether you found him as repulsive as he saw himself to be.

He shook his head, his features hardening over again. He gripped at the side of the couch until his knuckles turned white.

“You should go home,” he said, breaking the silence. His voice was thick as gravel. “Sam shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Shouldn’t have—?” You scoffed, stunned. “Bucky, look at this place!”

“I’m fine,” he replied flatly and you almost laughed if it weren’t for the deadpanned look upon his face.

“You’re clearly not fine!” You dared to take a step closer, aching to remind him of the lightness he carried weeks earlier, only for him to retreat. He rejected the contact on instinct – a flinch throughout his whole body. Your heart clenched as if a hand had slipped in past your ribs and squeezed until it burst.

Your breath was tight in your lungs as you tried again, a little softer this time, “you’re not fine, Bucky. You’ve kept yourself held up – alone – in this apartment for days on end. You’re pushing away the people who care about you. You’re not sleeping. You... You look like you’ve been through hell.”

Bucky’s jaw was clenched so tight, you wondered if it might shatter. His gaze was unfocused, staring down at the floor by your feet.

“You don’t have to put yourself thought this,” you eased, though the tension would not fade from his muscles. They remained locked as stone. You inched forward, a hand extending to him, an anchor to ground him. “Bucky, please... let me help you.”

Something snapped – as sudden as a rubber band pulled taunt until its breaking point – and Bucky’s cold eyes met yours.

"There is NO helping me!” he roared, startling you enough to flinched back a few paces, your hand curling back against your chest protectively. He curled his shaking hand to a fist. “I can't escape this shit! Even when I thought I could—when things were finally bearable again and I had a reason to get out of bed in the morning and I actually wanted to live through the fucking day— it all came back anyway! One word and I’m right back to where I started! I’m a fucking nightmare to be around! Don’t you get that?!”

His breaths were coming in ragged, too quick. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes red. He hit his knuckles against the edge of the couch, on the wooden frame under the spine. Bucky barely took in a full breath.

“I can’t keep my shit together and I’m -- I’m only going to hurt you, okay? You shouldn’t want anything to do with this. I—I mean, look around you!” He kicked at the glass near his exposed feet, angry tears burning on his cheeks. “This is what my life looks like! Is this—is this what you want for yourself? You really want to sign up for this? This—this fucking endless parade of night terrors and panic attacks and anxiety? Huh?”

He was brimming with pain. It was spilling over the surface and coating the floor. You were drowning in it and all you wanted to do was cross the room to him, to hold him, to soothe even an ounce of that suffering away because it would consume him whole if he let it.

Bucky’s right hand was shaking so badly, tremors wouldn’t cease even as he clenched his fist. His body betrayed the stone he etched into his features. It was crumbling under the weight.

“You really want to throw away your life for that? For me?” he spat as if the very idea itself carried venom in its implication, as if it were nothing more than a fool’s errand to spend a lifetime by his side, as if choosing him would be choosing to tie a noose around your neck.

You’d never seen the evidence of his self-loathing before—not in full view and smothering the man you adored. He was expecting you to recoil, to run, to fight and argue and ultimately accept that you could never love a man so broken. It was a reaction he could wait a century for and still never find even a glimpse of hesitancy on your features.

You steadied your breathing. Focused on the heart of the man standing in front of you, determined to push past the destructive fog he’d surrounded himself in. You took a step toward him, and this time, he did not run.

“You’re not going to scare me away, Bucky.”

Shame quickly spread through his body, replacing the threads of anger with something much crueler. His eyes fell to the floor, his chest rising unsteady and he stumbled back a few paces to give you space from the rage he wasn’t able to control. He looked about a decade younger as his features softened again, cowering back into the shadows.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you eased, daring another step.

Bucky shook his head, reflective lines along his cheeks. His lower lip was chewed raw.

“You don’t deserve this mess. You should—You should be with someone whole. Someone who can give you a better life than I can.” He could barely choke out the words.

“I don’t want someone else.” You took another step closer, determined to close the space between you. “I want you.”

The tips of your fingers brushed against Bucky’s hand and a shiver cast up his spine. His eyes were transfixed on your touch as you slowly encased his hand in your own, easing the tension through his body and crumbling the stones in his chest with a gentle slide of your thumb against his palm. He started to sink against it, his whole body caving in to the very thing he’d been keeping at an arm’s length. He was suffering withdrawal.

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Bucky whimpered, tears slipping past his eyes as he shut them tight, as if he could cast away his demons if he were blind to their shadows over his shoulder.

You tugged gently on his hand, pulling him down to the couch. He followed you easily, his body moving of your accord as if he were made of clay. When you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, you felt the slight tremble along his spine, the shakiness in his bones. His head laid against your heartbeat, his right arm snaking around your waist in fear of letting go.

“I don’t need to know what happened. I don’t need the details,” you sighed against his ear. “I know you. I know you’re a good man, Bucky.”

Bucky was quiet for a minute. The silence hung thick in the air.

“What if I’m not?”

You tried to ignore the twist in your chest. “Oh honey, please don’t say that.”

“I lost eight people, Y/n,” he muttered out, holding onto you a little tighter. You could feel his heart pounding as you raked your fingers through his hair, hoping to ease him if only a little. “Eight of my unit. My friends. If I... If I had said something sooner... We were sitting ducks and... and...”

It was impossible to draw the pieces together. You couldn’t see the vivid image he held in his mind, but the details of that day weren’t necessary. He trusted you enough to outline the frame, to provide glimpses into the worst day of his life, even if they were messy and blurred. His body shook as he spoke, like maybe it was the first time he was saying the words aloud.

You ran your fingers along his spine, drawing patterns along his shoulder blades. He shivered.

The gentle glow of the moonlight caught the reflective edge of something on the floor. A medal. A Bronze Star. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, remembering what Natasha had told you about its merit for exceptional bravery.

“Were there any survivors?”

Bucky held his breath and slowly he nodded. “He was... He was just a kid when it happened. Peter. I think... I think if it wasn’t for him, I would have died out there. I would have given up. Woulda been easy enough. My arm would have bled out pretty quick and the sky... the sky was so beautiful that day. I don’t know why I remember that. Not a cloud for miles. It would have been a nice last thing to see, you know? I would have been okay with that. But Peter... Peter was so young and I... I wanted to bring him home.”

Tears were openly streaming down your face and you were thankful Bucky couldn’t see them as he laid against your chest. You tried to stifle the sob as it broke through. You kissed at his hairline again, holding him as tight as you could manage.

“You saved his life,” you stressed, hoping he might be able to hear it.

Bucky swallowed, tears brushing against the thin fabric of your t-shirt. “I lost eight others.”

“Yes, you did.” There was no disputing that. Eight lives had been lost and he was grieving his friends, his team, blaming himself for each life he didn’t save. His body tensed and you were mindful to draw pressured lines along his back to ease the rigidity there.

“You did everything you could, honey.”

Bucky shook his head. “No, I could have... I—I should have...”

“Some things are just outside of your control.”

“But I—”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Bucky froze, the recognition present in his body as he slowly lifted his head from your chest. “That’s....” He blinked a few times. “That’s what Sam always said. Those exact words.”

You smiled, brushing the hair from his eyes. You wiped your thumb along his cheekbone, drawing away the tracks of tears on his face. “Sam’s a smart guy.”

Bucky searched your eyes and you could tell he was wondering how you’d come to know Sam’s mantras, how they’d become words you often repeated to yourself in your darkest moments, but he couldn’t quite find a way to ask. He pulled himself from your lap and propped himself up beside you, your hands intertwined. He squeezed it lightly and an aching smile pulled at your lips.

"Sam used to have to write it on paper for me,” you admitted at the bittersweet memory. “I couldn’t say it to myself and he figured if I could read it in his writing, maybe I’d believe it if it were coming from him. After a while I started to say them out loud and hearing it my own voice... I don’t know. Sam kind of tricked me into healing, I guess.”

You laughed under your breath and you felt Bucky ease slightly beside you. He squeezed your hand again, a silent reminder that he was there. You focused on the feel of his grip, the callouses on his palms and the warmth of his skin. Real and tangible. Your Bucky.

“Sometimes I think Sam’s the only reason I survived after I lost Riley.”

A slight pinch formed at Bucky’s brows, his eyes narrowing—a subtle sort of curiosity, though he waited patiently for you to continue. The silence didn’t seem to frighten him as much as he focused on you, his eyes darted to your lip as you dug in your teeth.

You hadn’t let yourself be vulnerable next to Bucky before, afraid to take away from his own suffering in favor of your own. But you had known pain of a different kind.

You knew what it was to crave comfort, to silently beg to be held. You knew how it felt to be rejected by a man too shattered to offer any piece of himself away without breaking apart entirely.

The way Bucky was watching you, even through the dark circles under his eyes, the exhaustion pulling him in... it settled the twists of nerves in your stomach. His thumb traced at the edges of your palms, gentle sweeps to ease the tension away. His back straightened, a determination returning to his features, a sense of belonging – of purpose – in his comfort of you.

“He was a pararescue in the Air Force,” you continued after a moment and a flash of realization crossed over Bucky’s features. You pressed out a sad sort of smile as you said, “you remind me of him a little.”

You thought of the t-shirt you’d lent Bucky the evening you’d gotten caught in the storm together, how it clung to his chest. Bucky’s shoulders where broader than Riley’s had been. It was slightly bigger on your frame the next night you wore it. The logo had faded with constant washing, the soft green of the fabric muted to a grey. You’d worn it to sleep nearly every night for weeks after Riley left for his final tour, longer after he’d been killed.

It was the most cherished thing you owned. Lending it to Bucky that night had taken a strength you hadn’t allowed for yourself in years. It brought back memories you’d left untouched and an ache in your chest you’d forgotten. But somewhere, under it all, it had released you.

Riley would have liked Bucky, you thought, might have considered him a friend. You hoped he wouldn’t mind being the bridge that allowed you to move onto a new sense of peace, a new comfort. Even in Riley’s darkest moments, he only ever wanted you to be happy. You desperately hoped he meant that.

“I loved him so much,” you told Bucky, your mouth feeling suddenly dry at the admission, “but the war had hurt him beyond the scars on his body. Most nights, he woke up screaming. I tried... I tried to comfort him, to ground him back to what was real, but Riley was always so stubborn. He insisted he was fine, as if I didn’t notice the dark circles under his eyes or that he started drinking coffee in the evening before bed. He never told me what happened. I know he wasn’t trying to hurt me, that he was just doing what he could to hold himself together, but... the truth was, I lost Riley long before the officers showed up at his parents’ house.”

Bucky nodded, watching you intently, though he didn’t say a word. You could feel his eyes on you as you kept your stare ahead, focusing on the imperfections laced into the brick of the fireplace across the room. You studied the curve of the cement, the nicks in the mantel, the divots of the stone. It was the first time you’d uttered Riley’s name in years.

“I know you think I can’t handle this stuff, that it’s too much for me, but this isn’t the first time I’ve been around someone with nightmares, Bucky, or panic attacks,” you said, memories flashing over Riley sinking to the floor with his hands pressed to his ears, tears streaming down his face, images of him turning his back on you and disappearing for days on end. You had hoped he’d open up in enough time, but he never did. He couldn’t, he’d said, or it would consume him whole. Even years later, you still wondered whether it was under the weight of his pain that he suffocated, not in the prospect of its release.

“Riley struggled after his first tour,” you continued, a lump burning in your throat. “He... He came back different. He couldn’t adjust to civilian life. I could tell from the second he got home that he was itching to go back. Despite all the pain he endured, all the nightmares and the guilt, all he wanted to do was go back.”

You glanced over at Bucky to find his jaw clenched in understanding. It wasn’t an uncommon feeling, for soldiers who waited so tirelessly to be reunited with family and friends to feel isolated and insignificant when they returned home, to want to return to the one place they felt like they belonged.

“I tried to stop him,” you continued, wiping your eyes as unshed tears started to blur your vision. “I begged him to stay. He was out of his contract. He didn’t need to go back but...” You sighed. Bucky’s hand gripped yours and you drew on the ounce of strength he was offering. “The worst part was that he was better when he was over there. He was smiling again and laughing and making jokes like he used to. He was promising things for our future I hadn’t even allowed myself to consider before then. Being over there... it offered him something I never could and I was... I was glad for that. I was thankful he’d gone. I was... relieved. I’d missed him so much and I was just happy he was himself again, even if he was a world away, even if it broke my heart. Seeing him happy again... it was enough.”

You brushed at your eyes, the calloused touch of Bucky’s palm sliding along your jaw to gently wipe the wet from your cheek. His breathing was even again, the shakiness in his hands subsided. He waited for you to gather your thoughts again, not uttering a word in favor of the crickets chirping outside the window – unparalleled kindness in his patience.

You swallowed back the lump in your throat, urging yourself to continue. Your eyes met Bucky’s, finding comfort in the warm shades of blue and the encouraging glimpse of a smile that barely rose at the edges of his mouth.

“When Riley died, I blamed myself for a long time,” you said. “I told myself I could have stopped him from going back. I could have done more to convince him to stay, to get him the help he needed. I could have fought harder for him—for... for us. But Riley was his own person. He made his own choices and I couldn’t have done a damn thing to stand in his way. Sam helped convince me of that.”

Bucky’s face slacked. “That’s why you started volunteering at the VA.”

You nodded. “Sam and Riley were partners. They had some sort of pact to take care of the other’s family if something happened. Sam held up his side of the bargain whether I liked it or not. He dragged me to the open house that year and I haven’t left since. I do it for Riley, but... I don’t know... I think I do it for myself, too.”

You exhaled a heavy breath, turning away from the fireplace to face Bucky. His eyes weren’t as red as they had been, a frown no longer etched into his features. His gaze full, though heavy, and he watched you as if you carried the entire world in the palm of your hands.

“So, you have to understand... I can’t lose you to this war, too,” you choked out, squeezing at his hand to feel the firmness of it, to remind yourself that he was real and sitting right beside you and not an ocean away. “I won’t survive losing you, Bucky. I need you, okay? Please.”

He looked as though he was about to argue, but he quickly held his tongue as he watched the tears slip down over your cheeks. Reflective in the dim light from the window.

You took in a long breath, straightening your spine as you met his eye, your voice stronger than it had been since you started. “Not everyone comes home, but you did. You survived and you wandered into my life and somehow, you made me believe in love again. Even on your worst days, just being near you is the best part of mine.”

Bucky’s lips parted, a semblance of shock flashing over his eyes. You smiled at him through your tears, a hand sliding along the side of his cheek. He sighed against the touch of it, sinking into your embrace as if hadn’t ever expected to be held like that again. Your sweet Bucky, still so surprised that you could adore him as much as you did.

“So, I will take your nightmares and your panic attacks,” you told him, smiling through the trembling in your lips. “I’ll take your bad days and share the weight you carry on your shoulders. I’ll take every ounce of shame and self-loathing you have until the day comes you can hardly feel it at all. I’ll take the empty side streets with you and we’ll drive so far out into the country side we’ll never hear a firework again.”

Bucky chuckled at that, a smile pressing up along his cheek until you felt it under your palm.

“I will take anything you throw at me,” you sighed, your thumb brushing over his lips, “as long as you’re mine. As long as I’m yours. That’s all I want, Bucky. It’s all I ask. Just you.”

Bucky stared at you, a strange mixture of awe and disbelief on his features. You could see the hope burning behind his eyes, how badly he wanted to believe you, but doubt crept in and sunk its talons into his spine.

His smile sank. “You’ve... you’ve already been through so much. I don’t know if I’m worth all that.”

“You are.” You slid both hands along his cheeks, holding his gaze, until you leaned in closer, inch by inch, and pressed your lips to his forehead. Slow, lingering, you kissed his temples, his cheekbones, the tip of his nose, his jawline, pausing only when you found yourself a breath away from his lips.

“You are, Bucky,” you said again, brushing your thumbs along his cheeks and catching a tear in its path. He bowed his head, a slight trembling in his jawline. It took everything you had not to collapse into him.

“Honey, I promise you, it won’t always feel like this and I’ll convince you every day that you are enough, if you need me to,” you told him, your voice shaking as you held back tears. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re not alone. Not now. Not ever again.”

You leaned forward to kiss the crown of his head and his whole body seemed to sink in response, lightening, as if he’d let go of a boulder strapped upon his shoulders. His muscles softened, the tension slipping from his spine, until slowly, he began to lift his head, hair parting away from his eyes. Though they were strained and red, a crystalized ocean current stared back at you.

You could feel the ease in his body taking over, a realization and a determination present in his stare, in his body.

His lips parted, a steady breath in. “I love you.”

***

It was the easiest thing he’d ever said; slipped from his lips as if the words had simply tumbled out on their own. Lost in how tenderly you touched him, how your hands never once left his body even as he held himself firm as stone, how you entrusted him with the most painful parts of yourself, how you gently coaxed him away from the shadows threatening to drag him back into a darkness he’d never recover from – he’d never been so certain of anything in his life.

“I love you,” he said again, just wanting to hear it one more time. His voice was stronger this time, steadier, and he could feel his cheeks curving up into a smile. It ached from disuse, but it was a pleasant feeling. A kind one.

He slipped his hand to rest on yours as it laid against his face and gently pulled it back just enough to kiss at your palm. It wasn’t often he found you at a loss for words, but it he didn’t mind the silence, not like he did before. He could still hear the slight hitch of surprise in your breath, the nervous laughter carrying in your exhale. You were smiling so wide, he wondered if it were even possible to love you more than he did in that moment.

“Really?”

God, you were so beautiful when you looked at him like that. Starry eyed and so full of hope.

He nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

You kissed him then, full on his mouth, arms thrown around his neck, and he had to stifle a laugh against your lips. He could feel the smile growing against him, laughing in between every kiss as the tears dried on your cheeks.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you beamed, drawing him in to kiss him again.

He shouldn’t be surprised after all you’d said to him tonight, but it still fluttered in his chest, still caused butterflies to swarm in his stomach, still cast a blinding light deep into his heart that pushed out the remaining darkness lingering behind. His arm snaked around your back, holding you as tight against him as he could manage. He was breathless by the time you pulled away.

“Will you stay?” he asked, suddenly feeling nervous as his eyes flickered over to the bedroom door. “I know it’s a mess out here, but—”

Your lips were on his again and he swore he’d never talk again as long as you kept kissing him like that. Slowly, you began to stand from the couch, tugging him along with you. He pulled away from your lips just long enough to navigate his way to the bedroom, stepping over broken glass and the remnants of his nightmare on the living room floor.

His bedroom was untouched, at least. The sheets were thrown haphazardly off the bed, but other than that, it was pristine in comparison to the damage he’d done out there. A shame tried to work its way deep into his chest, but he felt your hand slip into his, carefully drawing him close to the bed, and it released him to your care.

His back bounced against the mattress in tune with the sweet sound of your laughter as you crawled over him. Thighs caging his hips, you straddled his waist and he looked up at you, certain he’d find a glimmering shine of a halo behind your head. The moonlight touched over your shoulders as you leaned down against him, kissing his lips.

He’d missed you so much. Those two weeks left him in a hole he couldn’t possibly dig himself out of on his own. He was scraping at the bottom, nails filled with dirt, digging himself deeper and deeper until he could no longer see the sunlight as it touched over the surface. It wasn’t until you jumped down into the pit with him that he noticed there were notches in a wall once perfectly smooth, allowing him to crawl his way back up to the top.

You leaned back a little, breathless, as your hands slid along his chest. It was the first time he’d been so exposed in front of you, the scars and burns on full display, and he was surprised that there was no hesitancy in your touch, no reluctance as you brushed your fingertips over the corners of the damage to his skin. But you paused, eyes flickering to him.

“Can I?”

Bucky sighed, his heart aching. You knew how difficult it was for him, for you to see this part of him. He hadn't even taken off his jacket once in the first few weeks of knowing you. But now, he nodded eagerly, wanting to feel the tenderness with which you handled him upon the broken remains of his left side.

Your hands slid up over his shoulder, brushing along the bumps and ridges in his skin. Hardened tissue and raised edges. The way you touched him, like he was something beautiful and adored, made his heart swell. It wasn’t until you leaned down to press a feathered kiss to his shoulder, just over the burn marks and the glimpse of what he’d lost, that he choked back tears.

“Is it too much?” you asked, noticing the trembling in his lower lip, but he quickly shook his head.

“It’s perfect,” he replied breathily, drawing you back to his lips. “You’re perfect. I don’t deserve—”

“Hush,” you warned, kissing him to cut him off, “don’t talk about the man I love like that. You deserve every ounce of love I can give you, you hear me?”

He stared at you for a moment, studying the sincerity on your features until the gravity of what you said sank in, and slowly, he nodded. It would take time to believe that, but he hoped the more you said it, the easier it would come. He’d believe just about anything if it came from your voice.

“Let me show you.”

Bucky stilled; his throat suddenly dry.

“Let me show you, Bucky,” you asked again, your lips against his neck. He shivered. You sucked at his skin, drawing a map along his collarbone. You tongue licked at the indent by his neck. “Please.”

When you met his eyes again, Bucky wondered if maybe you saw him with the same wonder and enchantment with which he saw you. It only took the slight tilt of a nod before you crossed your arms over your waist and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head. Your bra came next and Bucky shifted uncomfortably, realizing you were still straddling him, his hardening length prominent against your thigh.

He stared up at you, studying over the curves of your breasts, the dips in your hips, untouched and exposed – so incredibly beautiful.

He stopped himself as the thought entered his mind, the wondering whether he deserved such beauty in his life, wondering how he’d managed to trick the cruel twist of karma to allow him to love a woman like this – to love you like this.

He cast away the doubt, forcing it back to the shadows where it belonged. It was easier to do that when you smiled at him like that, like he was truly worth something.

You laid down against his chest as his hand slid up along your spine, feeling for the slight dip in your back and the goosebumps following in his wake. You shivered under his touch and for the first time, Bucky remembered what it felt like to be wanted.

He couldn’t stop kissing you, even as your hands slipped to his waistband. It was like you breathed new life back into him; reviving him with every touch.

He helped you push down the band of his pants until you could easily drag it down his legs and drop it to the floor by his bed. It had been a long time since he was so vulnerable in front of a woman, but he didn’t mind when you looked at him the way you did. There was no ounce of judgement in your eyes, no cautious glance to his shoulder and the absence there. There was only love.

You slipped the remaining clothes from your body and Bucky held his breath as you climbed over him again, straddling his waist, bare.

Bucky was trembling as he reached for the drawer at his bedside. Blindly digging around for a box in the back of the drawer, he felt for the edge of foil wrapping. He brought it to his teeth, careful to rip the packaging, though as he held it in one hand, he let out a heavy sigh.

“Would you...?” he asked, a blush creeping up into his cheeks.

He didn’t know why he was so embarrassed, given that you were both naked, but this was one of those things he couldn’t do for himself. It would have felt emasculating if it weren’t for how eagerly you nodded and how good it felt as you placed the condom on his tip and slowly rolled it down his base. He closed his eyes, sinking back into the pillow at the feeling, wondering how he was going to survive this.

“You alright there, honey?” you called, giggling under your breath and, damn, if it wasn’t the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.

“I won’t last long,” he admitted, his hand sliding up along your waist, thumb brushing over your breast. He tried to catch the whimper as it left his lips to no avail.

You smirked. “I think we’ve waited long enough. Don’t you think?”

You sank down on him and he choked back a moan, embarrassingly loud, but it only seemed to spur you on as you rolled your hips, giving him little time to adjust. You were so tight, squeezing around him, and – holy shit – when you dragged yourself against him, using him as you sought out the angle you were looking for, he’d never felt anything like it.

He held his breath, focusing on the ceiling as he listened to the sweet sounds you made as your hands curled against his chest, hair falling down into your face. He knew he wouldn’t last as long as he wanted— hell, he would have stayed in you like this for hours if he could have – and it was taking near everything he had to hold out long enough for you to finish.

Thankfully, you were just as riled up as he was – high on missing him, aching in the distance – and Bucky gasped as he felt your walls clench around him with the rushed circles between your legs. You picked up in pace and Bucky found himself meeting you half way, thrusting up into you as he braced himself on the headboard.

“Oh God – Bucky,” you whimpered, your chest falling down to his, unable to hold yourself up. He kissed your neck, his hand sliding from around the wooden of the baseboard to grip your hips.

If he could, he would have had a hand on your breast, teasing at the nipple, the other sliding down to the space between your bodies, rubbing circles on the nerves that left you so breathless you could hardly hold yourself up. But he was learning again, getting used to his body and his limits, and all he could focus on was holding you, guiding your hips, giving him leverage to fill you whole.

Judging from the sounds you were making, your body molding like puddy against him, you didn’t mind at all.

“I’m close,” you gasped, breath hot against his neck. “Ah, God, Bucky... I’m-- I’m--”

He could feel it before the words left your lips, the clench in your walls, the spasms in your muscles that left you weak against him, overstimulated as you pulled your hand away from your clit. Your cries gave him the permission he needed to let go, only a few more thrusts was all it took, and he shuttered as he came.

Breathless, hardly able to control the laugh as it bubbled in his chest, Bucky could hardly believe that he started this night in the darkest place he’d been in months, only to end up lying here with you, so full of light and love he could hardly stand it.

He didn’t let you go at first, just wanting to hold you a little longer. He felt the sweet touch of your lips as they trailed along his neck, smile brimming against his ear. Then slowly, you rolled off of him, gently removing the condom and tossing it to the bin. A shiver slipped up his spine at the touch.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” Bucky confessed as you laid against his chest, curling up to his side. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “Don’t let me do that again, okay? I can’t stand to go another day without you.”

You smiled against his chest, your fingers tracing along the lines on his shoulder, touching over old scars and burns. You traced them as if they were simply lines on his body, just another piece of him worth loving, worth memorizing. He wondered if the next time he saw them in the mirror, he might remember this moment and see them for something more than the evidence of his loss that day. Maybe, he might see them the way you did – as evidence of his survival.

“I love you,” you sighed and Bucky felt his heart swell; it grew and expanded so wide inside his chest, he wondered if his bones might bend to make room as it split him so lovely at the seams.

“I love you, too.” He curled his arm tighter around your shoulders, drawing you close to his side. Over your shoulder, a cast of moonlight seeped in through the windows, touching over your skin, illuminating the room in a gentle glow. He closed his eyes as sleep drew him near, comforted by the patterns you drew against his shoulder.

When he fell asleep, he fell willingly – protected in your embrace, safe, from the nightmares laying in wake.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you

1K notes · View notes

uwuwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Denki, Dabi and Bakugou in a secret relationship

Request: hii!! i loved your post about the secret relationship being exposed and i was wondering if you could do the same for dabi bakugo and denki - anonymous

Um this was supposed to go up yesterday, I had queued it but tumblr decided to just deleted. Oh well. I hope you like it you guys even though its a day late. This was fun to write. Love ya. 💖💖💖

rules

warnings: some sexy times mentions, fluff

Kaminari Denki

-Kaminari is an idiot.

-I don’t even know who you’ve managed to keep your relationship a secret.

-90% sure the whole school knows and just pretends to be oblivious.

-Anyways.

-It kinda bothers him that he has to keep it a secret.

-He wants to scoop you up and spin you around in the hallways, hug you after a really rough training session with Bakubro, kiss you when you are being extra extra cute.

-Plus he wants to brag to the other idiots for getting a girlfriend first.

-But alas he respects your wishes and tries to keep it all under wraps.

-Your parents are pro heroes and have warned you about the dangers of dating since you are their kid.

-Villains wouldn’t hesitate to threaten you with your significant other if it means they’ll get to your parents.

-So now Kaminari is stuck sneaking in your dorm late at night only to spend a few hours with you and give you as much kisses as he can fit in the little time you have.

-Surprisingly he has kept it a secret for almost a year now.

-No slip ups, no marks on his skin after a spice night, none of your clothes could be found in his room whatsoever.

-Apart from his usual flirty nature towards you, there was nothing that could indicate that you two were an item.

-Now being in your third year, things had gotten rather serious with your hero works.

-Most of you if not all had been working along side a pro hero for the last year or two but that didn’t mean they would take you in after high school.

-Every student had to wait for the acceptance letter from the agency or an agency in general and they would be set for their hero work after school.

-You had been working with a hero agency since your first year and you were pretty happy.

-But the pro hero you had been with decided that after you were done with your hero studies, he would retire leaving you with no agency to boost your career after school.

-Kaminari was as devastated as you were.

-He tried comforting you as much as he could, extra hugs and kisses, more snacks and movie nights, anything to help you cope with the fact that you would be back to the starting line once school was over.

-He hated seeing you cry.

-Then the unthinkable happened.

-Mt.Lady was a well known hero and one with a desired sidekick position that no one seemed to really fill.

-You had just helped her stop a major villain attack tricking the villain and capturing him before he could do any real damage in the area.

-To say that Mt.Lady was impressed was an understatement.

-She contacted your hero agency and asked if you had already signed a deal with them.

-You can see where this is going.

-When you got the notice from Mt. Lady’s agency you were over the moon and so was Kaminari.

-He was so happy that the person he loved the most was finally getting what she deserved.

-He had dragged you to the janitor’s closet to give you his personal congratulations, catching the attention of a certain red head.

-He kissed you like there was no tomorrow, his arms keeping you as close as possible, flush to his chest as he peppered your face and neck with feather light kisses.

- “I’m so proud of you babe!”

-You tried to keep your giggles on the down low to no avail since Kaminari’s goal was to make you laugh.

-For a long moment you didn’t care if someone found you, you were so happy and so comfortable in Denki’s arms that you didn’t want to leave the closet and go back to your hidden lives.

-Then you saw the light coming from the door, getting ready to lightly scold Kaminari for leaving the door open when you made eye contact with Kirishima......and Mina ..... and Sero..... and somewhere in the far back with a pair of ruby red eyes.

- “Babygirl is everything alright?”

-He hadn’t seen them yet, then he followed your line of vision and the man has never yeeted you out of his arms faster in his life.

-Your friends just stared at you in complete shock for a full minute before Bakugou broke the silence.

- “Oi you own me ramen Kirishima.”

Dabi

-With this guy I’m not surprised that you managed to keep it a secret.

-Oh no no no.

-I’m surprised you managed to get him into a relationship.

-It wasn’t easy though you would give him that.

-You were part of the LoV of course and well you didn’t really take any of their shit.

-The only person you respected was Kurogiri and that was borderline pity.

-He had to babysit a 20 year old killing machine with issues, many issues, many many issues.

-When Dabi approached you with his signature flirty and I-only-do-one-night-stands-babygirl attitude, you being the idiot that you are took the bait.

-The LoV knows of yalls nights together but they only thought that that was it.

-Dabi slept around and you were a really attractive person.

-Plus they knew you both were bored so sex was, to their eyes, the only solution.

-What they didn’t know though was that Dabi was starting to catch feelings and soon enough he hated seeing you remotely talking with another human being.

-Then that fateful mission happened and the deal was sealed.

-You were spying on Overhaul and his lackeys, hidden in his underground lab watching as they went around doing stuff.

-Then you heard a childish scream and it was the first time Dabi saw fear flash in your eyes.

-You turned around following the source of the screams absolutely ignoring Dabi’s protests and threats.

-It was like you were in a daze and Dabi felt the terror sink his claws in his throat as you passed by so many of Overhaul’s members nearly getting caught.

-When you reached the glass door that led into Eri’s experiment lab, he saw the color drain from your face and your knees buckling.

-He caught you before you hit the floor dragging you away from the lab door despite the fact that you clawed at his coat to put you down.

-He felt his shoulder getting wet and that’s when he saw the tears that were falling freely down your cheeks.

-He had managed to calm you down long enough to convince you to leave before you got caught but luck wasn’t on your side when one of the lackeys spotted you.

-Dabi was a few feet away from the exit, becoming reckless at the sight of freedom not noticing the masked individual pointing his gun at him.

-You noticed though.

-And you got in the way, pushing Dabi to the ground as the quirk cancelling bullet pierced your side leaving you to fall to the floor with a grunt and a strangled pained moan.

-The next few minutes were a blur.

-Dabi didn’t remember how he got you out of there or how he was now on a rooftop with you pressed flush against his chest as the affects of the bullet made you tremble.

- “Shh doll, shhh. I’m here I got you.”

-He knew your trembling was not entirely because of the bullet, he saw how your eyes glassed over at the sight of Eri back in the lab and he knew that this had something to do with your past.

-He used to get the same glassy eyed look on his face when he would see Endeavour on the news shortly after his “death”.

-Things changed after that.

-He didn’t take you to the hideout that night, he brought you to his apartment where he helped you clean up your wound and calm down.

- “I know it’s not my place to ask but what the hell to you happened back there?”

-When you explained what you’ve been through and how those screams brought back things you thought you had long ago buried, he was left gawking at you.

-For some weird reason he believed that you were just a brat who ran away from home on some rebellious whim.

- “Ugh what am I saying? You don’t give a damn! Why did I even-”

- “Touya.”

- “What?”

- “My real name is Touya, I-I wanted you to know.”

-Sharing a heart felt night analyzing your past trauma with someone you sleep with is one way to get yourself into a relationship.

-You both agreed to keep it secret and you did keep it like that for a long time, a very long time.

-The LoV never truly found out.

-Some had their suspicions sure, Mister Compress had even made a bet with Toga but you two never gave them any further hints apart from the constant paired up missions you went on.

-The only one who knew was Kurogiri.

-He had caught you two spending the night together on a rooftop, all cuddled up together your hands intertwined as you looked up at the stars.

-He was getting back from an emergency snack run when he saw the familiar glow of Dabi’s blue flames and your characteristic giggles.

-He never said anything and when Dabi came to him to ask for some pregnancy facts, he knew that he truly loved you.

-No one ever knew and no one will ever know.

-Unless the run into you two in five years while you’re out for a walk with your son.

Bakugou Katsuki

-Sparky sparky boom boom man is a lil bitch.

-Don’t try to argue you know that too.

-You just need to accept it.

-His way to approach you was by insulting the living shit out of you before making you reach the tip of an anger fit.

-He knew how to press your buttons and it made you fume.

-You had to give it to him he was hella attractive and his true personality shined through his faced at times.

-And so did his worry for you.

-You got together after his kidnapping.

-He suffered from nightmares after the incident and one night he came to your dorm, trembling and cold sweat running down his spine.

-He had no idea why his feet led him to your room, he just knew that you were now wrapping him in a fluffy blanket and putting on a Disney movie as you hugged him so so tightly.

-He slept over and the next morning he confessed.

-Actually you both confessed but those are useless details.

-In reality it wasn’t even a confession with words.

-You both woke up facing each other, your noses touching and I don’t know who leaned in first but next thing you knew you were kissing his hand cupping you cheek while the other intertwined with yours.

-Keeping your relationship a secret with this one is easy.

-He is still being a lil bitch to you and you are still sassing him back.

-Behind closed doors he is kinda sweet and caring not a lot though because even with you he has to uphold his reputation.

-After some time though he calms down and is a cuddle bug.

-Like he will tackle you on the bed the moment you close the door to his dorm, restricting any movement until he is satisfied with the cuddles.

-Baby even said ‘I love you’ first awwww!!

-He was so shy about it.

-Anyways.

-That’s a story for another time.

-He doesn’t really care about keeping it a secret anymore.

-He’s low key tired of hiding.

-Much like Kaminari he wants to kiss you whenever he wants, hold you and hug you till you can’t breathe after he gets back to the dorms after a rough patrol with his hero study.

-But oh well the cat isn’t out of the bag yet and you being third years now you couldn’t really do something about it.

-You spend so much time with him that you would think that some of your classmates would like sniff you out.

-But no.

-They all dumb af.

-You would spend a lot of time with him and the Bakusquad since your first year so they just think you’re really good friends.

-Todoroki kinda knows but he doesn’t at the same time.

-Some mannerisms remind him while he was in a secret relationship before Momo found out but then he sees how Bakugou treats you just like any other person so he is really confused.

-More confused than usual.

-Now you got outed by the man himself.

-Bakugou is not good with jealousy.

-Jealousy and Bakugou should never go hand in hand.

-You were talking to Mina in class, leaning on the desk behind you.

-Your skirt had ridden up show casing your thighs making Bakugou think back to some noises you made a few nights ago.

-If he got hard he would blame you and he would be extra pissy.

-He was enjoying the show though.

-He watched you like a hawk.

-The way your body leaned back making your legs straighten and flex slightly or how he could see the hickey he had left right at the base of your neck the other night that you’ve tried to cover with make up.

-He could see it because he knew it was there, to an outsider everything was normal.

-He was jolted out of his daze by Mineta’s voice.

-And the sound of your name on his lips.

- “Look at Y/N’s thighs! She could suffocate me with those legs and I would thank her!”

-Kirishima smacked him upside the head trying to shut him up.

-Kaminari was slowly escaping the scene because he saw the small sparks in his friend’s hand at the comment.

-He chose life.

-Mineta though didn’t stop.

- “I could lose myself between those legs. Oh the noises she must make.”

-Now what happened next is a huge question mark.

-The end result however was Mineta almost being blasted out the window and into space and Bakugou almost popping the vein on his forehead.

-You had to get in between them and try to calm down your boyfriend.

-Most of your classmates had long forgotten Mineta and his whining and had zoned in on your hands on Bakugou’s chest or on his arm that had wrapped around your waist in an attempt to push you behind him.

- “You ever dare speak my girlfriend’s name I’m blasting you to the next dimension.”

- “Katsuki please calm down it’s fine.”

-Legit you both forgot that your relationship had been a secret for the past three years.

-You floated back into reality when Present Mic himself asked.

- “YOu TWo aRe aN iTeM?????”

-Chaos ensued and a crap ton of explanations.

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan @the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei

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starks-hero · 4 years ago

Text

Right a Wrong || Part Two

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You help Bucky make amends and things start to look up for the both of you.

Word Count: 2,800

Warnings: angst, fluff, tfatws spoilers! 1×06

a/n: A few people were interested in a second part to Right a Wrong and the finale gave me a little inspiration so ta da! :) This fic can be read as a stand alone but I'll link part one for anyone that's interested. A little rushed so all mistakes are my own. Spoilers below!

|| Part One ||

*gif not mine*

Bucky didn't sleep on the floor anymore, or the couch. Since being with you, falling asleep in a bed had become his new normal. But it was strange. It was soft and warm and comfortable. In a way, it felt wrong. Bucky didn't deserve something this homely or domestic. When he lay down on the silk sheets he felt like they were going to swallow him whole. Or that he'd sink right through the mattress and into the cold floor. It had been so long since he'd slept in a bed his body was completely unaccustomed to the soft, plush bedding beneath him, his back had long since grown used to the stiffness of the floorboards.

In fact, the night you both left the Wilson's and stayed in a somewhat decent hotel together was the first night Bucky had slept in a bed in months. Longer than he cared to admit. But amidst the strangeness of it all, there was you.

His discomfort at the foreign feeling of laying in a soft bed dispersed the moment you crawled in next to him. He'd pulled you to his chest, arms wrapping around you whilst you clung to his side, hands laying lazily across his stomach. And for the first time in years, Bucky fell asleep peacefully. It was the best night of sleep he'd gotten since before the war.

And he owed it all to you.

Buckys feelings for you had only grown stronger since that day you agreed to go with him. Since then he'd sworn that he'd never met anyone as loving or caring as you in his lifetime.

You didn't run, you didn't leave him. When the nightmares came you stayed. You would gently coax him awake and calm his waking mind with soft words of comfort when the night terrors left him terrified and confused. You held him, gently running your hands down his body and through his hair, not showing any disdain for where man met metal. And when you gently kissed the side of his head Bucky swore he was prepared to forgive everyone that had ever wronged him if they had played a part in bringing him to you.

His nightmares had also declined in the time that you two were together, as did most of his self deprecating thoughts. Of course, they didn't go away entirely. But you helped him where you could and understood when you couldn't. You knew that despite how much you wanted to, you couldn't love his demons away. And Bucky loved you all the more for accepting that.

Over the course of a few weeks, when the dust had finally settled after the Flag Smashers attack on the GRC HQ in New York, both you and Bucky focused on the names in the book that Bucky could now recite in order without even glancing at the page. When you'd asked him where he wanted to start, one name immediately leapt to the forefront of his mind. And that name is exactly what had led you both to the quaint apartment block tucked away in the corner of New York City.

"I can't do this." Bucky's voice was timid as you both stood outside the apartment complex. He swallowed and turned to you helplessly.

"Yes, you can." You gently took his hand in yours.

This was it. The first name on Bucky's list. Yori Nakajima. You were both aware that the first was going to be the hardest. But now that you were actually here, standing in front of the home of the elderly man who'd lost his son at the hands of the winter soldier, it suddenly seemed all too real and just a little bit impossible. Bucky's stomach tied itself in a knot.

"No, I can't. I can't." He said through laboured breaths. He shook his head as he paced in front of you. "I can't tell him. I can't watch what that will do to him. I can't-" Bucky's breathing began to grow erratic.

"Hey." You quickly stepped in, stopping his relentless pacing and holding his face in your hands. "It's okay, you're okay." You softly shushed him. "Bucky, you can do this. You have to."

He sighed, calming slightly beneath your touch. "I'm guessing I have to do it alone, too. Don't I?" He asked and you nodded sympathetically. Your thumb caressed his cheek, tracing the stubble along his jaw. As much as you wanted to be there with him you knew he had to do this part alone.

"You can do this."

Bucky smiled softly at your words despite the growing fear in his eyes. He gently caught your wrist and moved your hand to his mouth, placing a tender kiss to your palm.

"Okay," he said quietly and turned to glance at the door of the building. He exhaled slowly.

"I'll be waiting right here," you comforted and he acknowledged you with a curt nod. His hand slipped from yours as he headed inside and you watched him go, your heart in your throat.

Time seemed to drag on forever as you waited, nervously toying with your hands. Bucky had been gone for a little under forty minutes and you couldn't tell if that was a good or bad sign. You tried to convince yourself that everything was fine but your mind kept reminding you of the worst possible scenario and what that might mean for Bucky.

You bit down on your lip as you impatiently shuffled your feet. You watched the crowds pass as you stood out of the way of the busy street, leaning against the wall of the alley next to the apartments.

After a few more painfully long moments you saw him amongst the crowd. Bucky's expression was unreadable as he stopped in front of you and you couldn't tell if things had gone well or not. He almost seemed to be in a state of shock.

"Bucky," you tried timidly and he looked up at you. There were tears building in his eyes.

"He forgave me." He managed hoarsely. The frenzy of emotions he was experiencing was evident in his expression. It was almost as if he didn't know whether to laugh with joy or cry. You wordlessly pulled him to you and he welcomed your embrace.

"You did it, Buck," you muttered as you comfortingly ran your hands along his back and he clung to you like a lifeline. "You did it."

He pulled away to look at you, still slightly teary-eyed but features now flooded with relief. The weight of the world seemed to have been lifted from his shoulders and a small smile found its way to his lips as he looked at you in disbelief

You pulled the small red book from your pocket, where it had been stowed away for safekeeping, and Bucky nodded. You were the only one Bucky trusted enough to share it with. You handed the tattered notebook to him and he turned the pages in a flimsy, disorganised motion, his fingers shaking slightly. Pulling a pencil from his pocket, Bucky's smile widened as he drew a line through 'Nakajima'.

He traced the faded name with his thumb one last time before glaring at the multiple other names and initials jot down on the paper.

"What now?" He asked as he glanced down at the open book in his hand.

You shrugged. "One down."

Bucky huffed, shoving the book back into his pocket with a surprising level of caution. "Only a dozen more to go."

"Still, it's a start." You smiled, gently placing your hand against his shoulder and dragging it down his arm.

He smirked, catching your waist and pulling you into him. He captured your lips in a kiss, ignoring the fact that the street was still bustling with people a few feet away from you both. Bucky wasn't always the biggest fan of PDA, mostly because it wasn't exactly encouraged to be all that affectionate in public back in the forties. But this was different. This was you and him and in light of what had just happened, he didn't care who saw. He was going to kiss you as much as he damn wanted to.

"Thank you," he muttered against your lips, slipping his hand into yours as you both stepped out onto the busy street.

"You've got to stop saying that." You shook your head and Buckys hand only tightened around your own.

"Why?" He tilted his head with a bemused smirk.

"Because I told you," you grinned, pulling him closer to you so your shoulders brushed. "You don't have to say thank you, not to me."

Bucky didn't answer, truth was he was at a complete loss for words. He just offered you a loving smile as he wondered how he got so damn lucky.

It had been a few weeks since the final name had been crossed off the list. Some had taken their toll on Bucky more than others, but now it was finally complete and Bucky once again experienced that wonderful feeling of being freed. This time not from trigger words, but from burdens he'd been forced to carry.

Things were finally looking up for you both. You'd managed to carve out your own unique sense of normality. And as both you and Bucky worked in the kitchen of your shared apartment on a particular Saturday afternoon, your new normal seemed to include watching the worlds most deadly ex-assassin baking a cake.

"And you're sure we couldn't have just bought one?" You asked, trying and failing to hide a smirk as you glanced at Bucky's handiwork. The cake was lopsided and the icing Bucky was currently covering it in seemed to be its only saving grace.

"Of course not, doll. Where's the fun in that." Bucky stated plainly. However, given your earlier attempt at cake baking, it would turn out that Buckys idea of fun involved throwing flour and eggs at each other and then making out on the tabletop whilst the cake overcooked in the oven.

But you didn't complain. You were just glad to see him so happy and carefree after everything.

He plastered a finishing layer of cream over the cake, looking awfully pleased with himself as he held it up for you to see with a proud smirk.

You bit the inside of your cheek to stifle your laughter.

"Get cleaned up." You ordered, motioning to his flour-covered henley. "Sam told us to be there by five o'clock. We're going to be late."

Bucky nodded dismissively as he sucked the stray icing from his fingers, making a point to keep eye contact with you as he did so. He smirked knowingly. Purposely pissing you off just to get a reaction out of you was just too much fun, he couldn't resist it.

"Problem, doll?" He asked and you wordlessly crossed the room and kissed his stupid smirk right off his stupid mouth. His mischievous grin only widened as he moaned against you. The sweet taste of icing lingered on his lips.

"Nope, no problem." You swiped your thumb across the corner of his mouth once you pulled back, wiping away the last of the icing. "You just had a little something on your lips."

He grinned down at you, heart full. You were going to be the death of him but god would he die a happy man if that were the case.

It took every ounce of control and willpower he possessed but he masterfully with-held the urge to shove you against the nearest surface and instead did as he was told, heading upstairs to change with one last peck to your cheek.

Ten minutes later and you were both on the road, cake securely strapped into the back seat of the car. The apartment you and Bucky were staying in was only a short drive away from the Wilson's and Sam was right, the people in the town really were the most welcoming in the world. You and Bucky had never felt more at home.

As Bucky parked the car on the dock, Cass and AJ were the first to greet you, ambushing Bucky. You smiled fondly as you watched him goof around with the boys before greeting everyone already at the cookout. Both boys then turned their attention to you, almost tackling you to the ground with the strength of their hugs. You couldn't quite put it into words, but there was something about how AJ rambled on so fondly about how Uncle Sam had set a place for you and Bucky at their table that made you feel more at home than ever before. Dinner itself was filled with laughter and shared stories. You did sit with the Wilson's, Bucky and Cass sitting to your left and right with Sam, Sarah and AJ sitting across from you. It was perfect. Between the bad jokes and the arguments over things as simple as the salt and pepper, it all blended together into the perfect mess of domestic bliss.

You glanced at Bucky who was smiling widely and laughing as he told a story to both boys who looked to him as if he were explaining the secrets of the universe. He was relaxed, unburdened and above all else, happy. He looked like he had finally found a home, a family.

As the meals were finished and things quietened down, you helped Sarah and Sam clean everything up. Then once everything was done, you simply sat and enjoyed the atmosphere. There was music being played, people dancing, and a little off to your left you could see Bucky. AJ and another kid were comedically hanging from his metal arm. Playful smiles were adorning all their faces. Who knew the worlds deadliest assassin had no issue with being a jungle gym if it meant making kids smile?

"I told you. Didn't I tell you?"

You turned and found Sam grinning behind you. He motioned to you and then Bucky.

"I've never seen him like this, so happy. Feels like I'm looking at the old Bucky Steve use to talk about." He said and you beamed.

"Yeah. He's come so far, crossed off every name in his book. I guess he finally feels like he can move on now."

Sam's elated expression softened as he glanced between you and Bucky again.

"I guess we've got you to thank for that, huh?" He playfully elbowed you in the side but his voice was nothing short of genuine. You laughed and shook your head, pushing back into him.

"I didn't do anything, it was all him. I just stood by."

"That's exactly why it's you I should thank." Sam smiled. Both of your gazes fell back on Bucky who seemed to have started a rather competitive game of tag among the kids he was surrounded by. "You stood by him no matter how bad it got. Not a lot of people would do that. Hell, not a lot of people have done that for him. I don't want to think about what could have happened if he didn't have you."

You nodded solemnly, eyes not leaving Bucky.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere so you don't have to worry about that."

Sam nodded with a grin, clasping a hand down on your shoulder. "Glad to hear it. But we should probably stop staring at him now, it's getting creepy, people are going to start asking questions."

You laughed at Sam's comment, muttering a quiet 'Copy that, Cap' as he headed back over to Sarah. As the sun began to set beneath the waves, most of the guests began to take their leave and head home. However, you and Bucky strayed away from the main party for a little time alone. You stood on the dock overlooking the water, Bucky behind you with his arm around your waist and planting kiss after kiss to your neck.

You couldn't explain the warmth that spread within you as you both watched the sun go down. But this was all you'd ever wanted. Bucky pulled you closer against him, opting to use his new vantage point to gingerly kiss your cheek.

"I love you," he sighed, resting his chin against your shoulder. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

You grasped his hand and laid back against him, counting your lucky stars that you'd both made it to where you were at that moment.

"I love you too."

He grinned at your words and held you close as he looked out over the golden waves and setting sun. He was finally home.

tag list: @bakerstreethound @doozywoozy @miraclesoflove @the-queer-dungeoneer @kealohilani-tepise

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #tfatws spoilers #tfatws x reader #marvel x reader

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edendaphne · 4 years ago

Text

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 18

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

——-

CHAPTER 18: AFFETUOSO

Music glossary:

Affetuoso: to perform with passion and emotion

**Chapter illustration by @corgi-likes-chat **

----

(Mood Music: “Christofori’s Dream” - David Lanz)

Adrien’s eyelids fluttered open, a sleepy smile still present on his face. He breathed out a long, contented sigh, stretching his limbs out wide enough that they poked out of the bedcovers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well.

Last night, after Marinette awoke him from his most harrowing night terror to date, he’d fallen back asleep and something remarkable happened: for the second time in years, he’d actually had a pleasant dream. The only other time he hadn’t suffered from his usual nightmares ever since becoming Chat Noir was on the first night that he’d arrived at the Dupain-Cheng residence.

He tried to think back, wondering what might have caused this, not just last night, but back on that first day Marinette had brought him home. What did these two occurrences have in common?

His mouth quirked to the side and his brow furrowed, deep in thought, trying to remember. He wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind when he’d arrived a couple of months back, given all that had happened when he ran away from his father; so it was no surprise that his memory of that night was hazy at best. Nevertheless, he hoped to find a correlation; if there was one, maybe he could figure out how to repeat it.

His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle hand sliding across his midsection. Disturbed by his movements, a smaller body rolled toward him, settling comfortably on his chest and breathing out a drowsy sigh.

He looked down and there she was: sweet, lovely Marinette; one of the dearest and most important people in his life. The raven-haired girl stirred, letting out a small whine; Adrien stilled, subconsciously holding his breath, not wanting to wake her and accidentally reveal his identity.

This became much harder when she reached around him, her fingers lightly skimming across his rib cage. His muscles tensed and he bit back a laugh; why did he have to be so darn ticklish?!

He readjusted himself, trying to shuffle out from underneath her; but she clinged to him like an overgrown barnacle, even in her unconscious state. I guess she’s a cuddler, he thought, and he couldn’t help but smile about how well that suited her.

It was still pretty dark in the room, as the sun hadn’t risen yet. He glanced over at the wall clock; he still had about an hour and a half before he had to report to work at the bakery, so he didn’t have to rush to get ready. Relieved, he sagged back down onto his pillow. He could relax for a little longer, he supposed.

Deciding to check his notifications while Marinette slept, he gingerly reached towards his nightstand to grab his phone, careful not to disturb her. He’d deactivated all his social media accounts since running away from home, so there weren’t very many notifications; there was a school-related email and a couple of late night funny memes from Nino.

Adrien checked the Ladyblog next. No news about any akumas this morning, thankfully. However, there were a few blurry snapshots of the previous night’s attack. He scrolled down for a bit, then stopped, his eyes popping open as he focused his attention on a particular photo.

He couldn’t suppress the lovestruck sigh that escaped his lips when he stared at a picture of Ladybug. His Lady was breathtaking, her eyes so ethereal, her smile utterly resplendent. She was indescribably beautiful, both inside and out and there was absolutely nothing he would change about her. He was hopelessly smitten, no doubt about it.

A few months ago, he would have berated himself for feeling this way about his mortal enemy. But his entire life had been turned upside down since then, and he wholeheartedly embraced this unexpected development.

The next photo was taken after the akuma was purified and the Miraculous Cure had set everything back to where it should be. Ladybug had seen that Alya was about to snap a photo, so she grabbed Chat and turned him around to face the camera, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. She grinned widely, and did a peace sign with her free hand. So cute.

He glanced over to his own face and instinctively grimaced. He was winking at the camera with a goofy, cheerful salute, not bothering to channel the suave, sophisticated mannerisms of a proper model that he’d incurred over the years. God, I’m so cringy, he thought.

Nevertheless, he saved the picture onto his phone. It was the first photo of them together like this, as opposed to impersonal ones taken by the media from afar, or during press releases and interviews.

It had only been posted a few hours ago, but already it had thousands of likes and comments. He didn’t dare look through those, however. Not since he first discovered the kinds of things people wrote about Chat Noir, both before and after his change in alliances. It was better to avoid those, lest he ruin his day reading about how much some people still hated him.

But he remembered Marinette’s words from the night before. She was right; he had to have hope, and believe that things would slowly get better. Attitude was everything.

Speaking of Marinette…

He looked down at his roommate once again. By this point, she’d slinked and climbed almost entirely on top of him, utilizing him like a mattress. His eyebrows scrunched together, and he wondered how in the world he’d be able to slip out of bed undetected.

All the stealth-based videogames I’ve ever played have prepared me for this moment. I got this!! he thought, hyping himself up.

Taking a deep breath in, he rolled over to his side, managing to slide Marinette’s ragdoll-like form back onto the mattress. She made a small noise and he froze, electricity crawling up the back of his neck. A few tense moments passed, and her stirring subsided, her breathing becoming slow and even once again. He exhaled, just now realizing he’d been holding his breath.

Freedom!! Adrien celebrated as he stood, stretching his arms high over his head, taking care not to hit the ceiling lights. His skin felt grimy with dried sweat from the night before; a shower was exactly what he needed right now. He tiptoed over to get a change of clothes from the dresser, giving the occasional glance towards the bed to make sure Marinette was still asleep.

As he made his way to the bathroom, he stopped by her side, a warm smile spreading across his face. He bent over and gave the top of her head a small kiss. Where would he be without her and her family? She and Sabine especially went out of their way to help him feel at home, to make him feel like he belonged, instead of treating him like a nuisance, or like some freeloader just taking up space. He loved them all so much; he vowed to himself to make it up to them someday.

He pulled the bedcovers up to Marinette’s shoulders so she wouldn’t miss the extra warmth too much, then made his way to the bathroom to start the day.

Marinette stirred, enveloped in softness and a familiar scent of spice and fresh rain. Eyes still closed, she extended her arm, reaching for the oversized cat pillow on her bed that she always liked to cuddle.

Her searching hand found something soft. Aha! She brought it closer, snuggling it tight, then began to get comfortable again. But then, her pillow started poking her cheek, over and over and over. The pillow’s poking only intensified when she tried squeezing it even harder. How rude!

Wait... what?

A single eyelid groggily slid open, meeting a small pair of eyes of a distinctive shade of green. A rather frazzled-looking Plagg stared back, his expression unamused from being squished between her and the pillow she was hugging.

“Sorry, Plagg,” she slurred sleepily as she pulled away to give him some space. “What are you doing here?”

He crossed his little arms, raising a brow. “I live here, remember?”

“But why are you in my room–– oh, wait…” she stopped, the memory of last night starting to rush back to her. This wasn’t her room; it was Chat’s. She’d slept in his room last night. And the bed she was lying in was his bed. These were his blankets and pillows, and they carried his scent. Heat rose to her face and a multitude of imaginary butterflies swarmed in her stomach as she realized that she’d actually spent the night with him, albeit under less than ideal circumstances.

And then a second realization dawned on her: Chat Noir was gone.

She sat up with a start, her head whipping back and forth to search for him. As she was about to panic, she heard the shower running in the en suite bathroom, punctuated by some cheerful humming. With a heavy, relieved sigh, she laid back down, careful not to squish the tiny cat god next to her.

“By the way, Little Bug,” Plagg murmured, meekly rubbing the back of his head. “Thanks for helping my kid last night.”

“Oh, of course, Plagg!” she replied. “I’m always happy to help however I can.”

He gave her a melancholy smile. “I just wish there was more I could’ve done. I tried waking him up myself, but he couldn’t hear me at all, no matter how hard I tried.” He sighed, twisting his mouth into a pained frown. “He doesn’t deserve this. He's already gone through so much.”

“Plagg, no, it’s okay! You did your best, and I’m sure Chat knows that too. I’m just glad I was able to get through to him. It was lucky that I happened to be downstairs at that time. Chat couldn’t ask for a better friend than you.”

Plagg grinned widely at her. “I always knew I liked you,” he remarked, scooting closer and nuzzling into her.

Marinette smiled back, returning the hug and kissing the top of his head, followed by providing him with some gentle scratches behind the ears. He let out a small, contented purr as he leaned into her hand.

After a few moments of hesitation, Plagg spoke again, “Little Bug, there’s... something else you need to know.”

They pulled apart, and Marinette eyed him with trepidation. “What is it?”

“It was too dark, so you didn’t see it, but–” he said with a grim tone in his voice, “–I need to let you know what really happened last night.”

“Huh?” Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “What do you mean? I know he said his night terrors aren’t usually this bad, but was there something else?”

A dark look flickered on Plagg’s face. “Hawkmoth tried to akumatize him last night.”

Marinette felt like she’d been dropped into a vat of ice water. “W- WHAT?!” she sputtered. “B-but how is that possible?! Akumatized?? He was asleep! Hawkmoth can’t akumatize people who are unconscious!!” She paused, pondering the possibility. “Right…?”

“It’s tricky, but not impossible,” Plagg replied. “Hawkmoth knows about Chat Noir’s nightmares, so he must’ve sensed his opportunity and finally taken it last night.”

Marinette brought a hand to her temple in disbelief.

Plagg continued, “I don’t know why he decided to try it now, instead of when he first ran away. And what if–” he gulped, and his voice quavered slightly as he continued, unable to conceal his fear, “What if he tries it again? What if he tries it every night?”

“No… he wouldn’t… he can’t!!” Marinette cried, staring at the bathroom door, her mind racing a million miles a minute. She clenched her fists as she tried not to give into the feelings of dismay and anxiety that were clawing away at her. “Plagg… What do we do?! Hawkmoth’s patterns seem to be getting more erratic and desperate recently. Is he under some kind of deadline? Why is he doing this??”

“I can think of a couple of reasons,” Tikki answered from across the room.

Marinette practically leaped off the bed in surprise due to Tikki’s abrupt entrance. “Tikki!” she exclaimed.

The brightly colored kwami hovered towards them and elaborated, “Firstly, as Chat grows older, his powers will continue to get stronger, as will yours, so you’ll be more difficult for Hawkmoth to defeat as time goes on. Secondly, I think the effects of misusing the butterfly miraculous must be catching up to him as well. His desperation suggests that maybe he thinks he’s running out of time.”

“Out of time? What do you mean?” Marinette asked, confused.

Plagg sighed. “It’s his health,” he answered. "He wasn’t doing very well even before we left. Slowly but steadily, it’s been getting worse for a while.” He turned to face Tikki. “You think Hawkmoth believes that he’s gonna… you know... soon?”

Tikki shrugged in response, her expression blank.

“Oh… I see,” Marinette said, her voice almost a whisper.

Her mind raced, a torrent of emotions crashing into her simultaneously, like a rowboat in a tempest, slamming into a cliffside without respite.

She wasn’t sure how to feel about this new information. Her chest felt tight, like it did when she wanted to cry. Should she feel happy or sad that her mortal enemy was getting sicker and sicker, to the point where his life was potentially in danger? Was it okay to feel–dare she say it– relieved?

What was she supposed to think? As a hero, was it more important to be merciful, or was it more important to be just? Her heart felt like it was being pulled in two completely opposite directions. Despite hating the man with every fiber of her being, part of her thought that maybe dying was too extreme a punishment. And yet, at the same time, the hurt, embittered part of herself thought that maybe dying would be too easy, like he was getting let off the hook instead of being forced to acknowledge his wrongs and feel remorse for the horrible things he’d done.

For years, she’d dreamed about the day when Hawkmoth would be defeated and his miraculous confiscated. It was supposed to be a happy time, full of rejoicing and excitement. But she’d never considered the possibility that Hawkmoth would be defeated by an entirely different force, one that she had no say in how or when it happened. It didn’t feel fair. She hated feeling this powerless.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a brief tug at her sleeve. She looked down at Tikki, who motioned towards the bathroom with a small nod. It was then that she noticed the noise–or rather– the absence of it, which could only mean one thing: Chat Noir had finished his shower, and he’d be coming out of the bathroom any minute now.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Tikki whispered.

Marinette nodded. She turned to Plagg and whispered, “We’ll talk more later. I’ll call Master Fu later today and see if he has any advice.”

“M’kay. See ya,” he replied with a small wave. “Bye, Sugarcube.”

Tikki looked back and gave him a reassuring smile, then followed Marinette out the door.

Plagg hovered towards the windowsill while he waited for his charge, plopping down with a heavy sigh. He leaned against the window, taking in the many colors of the dawn sky, which looked almost too bright and vibrant for his liking. How dare the heavens look so beautiful while he felt so miserable inside? The day hadn’t even really started, and yet the only thing he wanted to do was to just crawl back into bed. He dearly hoped that the heavy, uneasy feeling in his gut would go away soon.

(A short while later)

Work at the bakery had been lively and hectic today; so much so that Chat Noir had to be reminded when his shift was over and that he needed to head to school. He gave Sabine a parting hug, the latter thanking him for his hard work and giving him some encouraging words as she helped dust the flour off his suit and hair.

Chat retrieved his cloak from a coat hanger by the door and stepped into the stairwell that led to the living quarters, so that he could retrieve his school supplies and exit through Marinette’s balcony trap door as he normally did. That was definitely one of the plus sides of working in the kitchen while transformed; he could wear his school outfit underneath and not require a change of clothes or a shower when he was through. He could merely detransform and be good as new.

As he ascended up the stairs, he heard a familiar deep voice call out to him from below. Chat froze, then turned around, trying to keep his nerves under control.

“Could I speak with you for a minute?” Tom asked.

Uh-oh.

“O-of course, Mr. Dupain,” Chat replied, trying to keep his voice even despite his nerves.

Tom’s face was mostly neutral, but his body was rigid and there was a hint of gloom in his eyes. Chat did his best not to cringe as he stood in front of the much taller man who, despite not being a superhero, looked like he could toss him clear to the Eiffel Tower if he felt like it. To prevent himself from fidgeting, Chat finally opted to stick his hands inside his pockets.

“What is it, sir? D-did I do something wrong?” he asked. “I was running a bit late, so I apologize if I didn’t put something back in the right spot. O-or did I mess up an order?? I’m sorry, I can go back and fix… whatever it is!”

“No, everything’s fine; it’s something else,” he answered, and Chat felt the stiffness in his shoulders ease a tiny bit.

However, it came back full force when Tom didn’t say anything else. Chat’s heartbeat sped up as they stood face to face in silence, unsure of the route this conversation was about to take.

What else could he be in trouble for? Did he find out Marinette had fallen asleep in his bedroom yesterday? Oh no… Did Tom think he and Marinette had… done something unseemly together last night?! Was he getting kicked out of the house?? His mind raced and his chest thumped, and he prepared himself to beg on his knees for forgiveness if need be.

A few agonizingly long and awkward seconds later, Tom spoke again, “Chat Noir… I wanted to apologize to you.”

“Oh, I see. Wait… WHAT?!?” Chat felt like someone had yanked the carpet out from underneath him. “Apologize?? What for?”

Tom lifted his arm to rub the back of his head, his entire posture taut as a bowstring. “We didn’t really get off on the right foot, you and I. You’ve been nothing but cordial and polite, and all I’ve done since you arrived is give you the cold shoulder, and for that I’m truly sorry. I wanted to clear the air and start over, if that’s okay with you.”

“Mr. Dupain! N-no, please, it’s okay!” Chat sputtered, his hands waving frantically. “I totally understand why you would have reservations about me living here, o-or even interacting with you guys at all! They’re totally justified concerns! I mean, up until a few months ago, I was still working with Hawkmoth; so the fact that you even allowed me into your home at all is incredibly kind of you! I’ve never felt any ill will towards you, I swear! You were just doing what any good father would––” he trailed off, trying to keep the melancholy out of his voice, “–would do.”

Tom winced and sighed heavily, crossing his arms. “That’s exactly my point, though. It may have been justified at first, but that was back then . I tolerated you for the sake of my wife and daughter, but I was always suspicious. I should’ve given you a chance instead of just judging you for no reason, especially after all this time. So I wanted to try to make it up to you.”

It was then that Tom brought something shiny out of his shirt pocket. It was an adorable little keychain shaped like a croissant. But wait… no, it wasn’t just a keychain, Chat realized. There was a key dangling on the end. A house key. Tom handed it over, doing his best to try to conceal a timid smile.

Chat gaped at him, reeling from what was happening. “I… I don’t know what to say. That is so generous of you! Thank you, Mr. Dupain,” he replied meekly, staring into his hands at the key. HIS key.

He felt the man’s large hand pat him on the shoulder and Chat looked up, meeting his soft, forest green eyes. “Please, call me Tom.”

Chat had to consciously fight the urge to let his jaw drop. If he wasn’t dreaming last night with Ladybug’s revelation, he was surely dreaming now. “Y-yes, sir! Uhh, Mr. Tom, sir. Uhh, I mean…” he stammered, still not recovered from having been gobsmacked out of nowhere.

The older man gave out a hearty laugh. “Just Tom. And please, if there’s anything you need, just say the word. Even if it’s just someone to lend an ear. You’ve got a good heart despite the bad hand that’s been dealt to you, and you have so much potential. We’re happy to have you in our family, even if you’re only here temporarily. Just know you’ll always have a home here with us.”

Chat’s heart swelled with affection, so full that it felt like it might burst, and his eyesight became blurry with unshed tears. He threw his arms around the giant man in front of him, someone who he never thought would fully accept him, squeezing hard.

“Thank you, Tom! Thank you so much, I’m just–” he let out a shuddering sigh then continued, voice cracking, “–thank you.”

Tom squeezed back firmly, giving him an affectionate pat. Failing to hide a sniffle, he then added, “I should let you get going, I don’t wanna make you late for school.” The pair pulled apart, and Tom ruffled Chat’s hair. “Be safe out there, kiddo.”

After saying their goodbyes, Chat bounded up the stairs, practically floating with glee. He’d missed this feeling; the feeling of being part of a family. As he emerged onto the rooftop balcony, he took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air, his heart full of excitement and hope.

He arrived at the school in high spirits and a huge grin on his face. He detransformed in a discreet location and practically skipped to the school’s entrance; then he entered the campus, carefree, joyful, and blissfully unaware of the dark eyes that followed him inside.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Enemies AU #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Ladybug #Ladynoir #enemies to lovers #fanfiction #Discordant Sonata #ML AU #aged up #Eden writes #art by others #Fanfic art

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lebrookestore · 3 years ago

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the one; l.ty

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x reader

Themes: exes! au, best friends to nothing, exes to nothing, college! ish au because they’re graduating, the angst is a very subtle type but its still pretty heavy

Warnings: unrequited love, heavy angst, mentions of kissing and food (ice cream)

Wc: 1.6k

Playlist: the 1 by taylor swift, closure by taylor swift, 2 kids by taemin, dancing after death by Matt Maeson

Authors note: this is a deleted scene from my fic, favorite crime! (which you should go read. please lmao but also because it will give this story even more context) i have altered it so it sort of works as a oneshot? Anyways, I hope you like it<3

You know the greatest loves of all time are over now

When you’re younger, you’re told to live your life to the fullest, to enjoy your youth. You’re seen as naive and and wide eyed at the world around you. When you’re younger you’re allowed to make those stupid mistakes and mess up, because people look past them.

But some mistakes, everyone but yourself can look past. These type of mistakes could haunt you for the rest of your life with every little thing you do. The what ifs.

And when you’re young, even though you have so much of your life left to enjoy, you can’t ever go back and fix them. They were permanent, like a life long promise, or a tattoo inked into your skin. You would never be able to escape them, even if you moved on.

At age twenty one, standing in front of your full length mirror donning your graduation cape, you had already made one of these mistakes, and it weighed you down everyday, simply because the reminder of it all was just a window away.

You glanced through your window, seeing him there, doing the same thing as you were, trying to adjust his tie. If you hadn’t been so stupid, then the two of you would have been getting ready together, you would be the one tying his tie and he would be the one teasing you about how your your cap was too big for you.

You let a smile brief your lips, before looking away. Even though you were no longer staring at him, you knew exactly what he was, the image burned into your mind. Bleached blond hair still messy no matter how much he tried to tame it, his bright eyes that seemed to hold the universe and that intoxicating smile.

Your biggest mistake was falling in love with the boy who never loved you back.

And how you had fallen, hook, line and sinker for him. Taeyong was the object of your affections, your best friend- well former best friend. That was where your mistake came in.

You foolishly let it happen, a relationship of sorts with him. At first, it was everything you had ever wanted, but that slowly started turning into a nightmare you wanted to wake up from. Sometimes you still wonder if you’re in a nightmare.

The two of you worked so well together, because you had known each other since you were four. He knew all your flaws, had seen you at your worst and at your best. You would have never thought he would be the cause of one of your worst moments.

But Taeyong, he wasn’t in love with you, but rather, was infatuated. Infatuated with the idea of love and loving you. Once he figured that out, he did the right thing and told you, effectively breaking up with you.

You lost your best friend and lover all at once. It was painful being around him, because you were still in love with him. He had been your everything, and now you had nothing at all. He slipped through your fingers like sand on a beach.

You hadn’t talked to him since that night he told you the truth. You made an effort to not look at him through your window, because it would just break your heart more. You had never known what it was to be heartsick until you experienced it yourself, and extremely violently.

He didn’t push it either, giving you your space. And while this helped you heal, it also felt so wrong. From spending almost every moment together, to spending no time at all, your lives had completely changed.

For some, love was a breeze, it gave them a fuzzy warm feeling that they wanted to hold onto forever. For you, love hurt like a bitch.

You couldn’t help but think about what could have been, if he had actually loved you. Or if you never indulged in what you wanted and just stayed friends. Sometimes- no, all the time, you wished that had happened instead. You were fine with loving him quietly.

Another part of you, the more selfish part, wished he never realized he didn't love you. You would have been fine living that way, but that was only thinking about yourself. You deserved to know, and he deserves that freedom.

What if?

Falling into love is easy, especially with someone like Taeyong. He was the most beautiful guy you had ever seen, with the kindest heart you could think of. You had fallen when you were merely seventeen, still in high school.

No, it was the falling out of love part that was harder. After loving someone for as long as you had loved him, you couldn't imagine ever loving anyone else. The sheer thought of it didn't make sense to you.

So what if you were still with him, what if you never lost him. What if he was still your best friend through thick and thin?

Snapping out of your thoughts, you made one last adjustment to your graduation cap and sighed, scanning yourself over in the mirror. Deeming yourself presentable, you walked out of your apartment, jogging down the stairs of the building and reaching the ground level.

You were hitching a ride with your friend Ryunjin, who was arguably the world's worst driver but you didn't really have a choice. If you did, you would be going with Taeyong, but well, that wasn't going time happen.

You yourself couldn't drive, simply because you were too scared of accidently killing someone. Taeyong had even tried to teach you how to drive when the two of you were dating, but it was discovered that you were probably even worse than Ryunjin.

A few traumatized minutes of the drive to campus later, you found yourself lost in a sea of students that were also graduating with you. Thankfully you had a few friends, but it was still pretty overwhelming.

The ceremony itself was a blur, of you were being completely honest. You saw your friends get called up on stage and receive their scrolls. Ryunjin flashes an awkward peace sign at the principal because she shook his hand, Ten did a happy dance after, and Renjun pretended to click a picture.

You saw Taeyong go up there and receive his scroll, a bright smile on his face, a smile you so loved. You clapped for him, a proud, yet bittersweet smile gracing your features.

And soon it was you up there, and after you had gotten your scroll and take your picture, it had literally turned blurry. You didn’t realize you were tearing up until a wave of emotions crashed over you. You had finally graduated, you were out of this place after four years.

You hated change, despised it even. Now you were thrust out into the world, gone was the familiarity of attending classes and parties with your friends. First you lost your best friend, now you’d probably lose most of your other friends. It wasn’t as if all of you were going to stay in the town, you had first hand experience of this when your friend Yeji graduated the year before and moved away.

You were so young, so naive and yet it felt as if you couldn’t hold on to a single moment long enough. How were you supposed to enjoy your youth then? You were slowly loosing everything.

Sucking in a deep breath, you composed yourself, a laugh escaping you when Ryunjin practically threw herself onto you in a hug of celebration. You quickly wiped your tears so no one saw them, smiling.

Turning around to talk to another friend, your eyes met Taeyong’s. He was much further away from you, but you knew it was him, you’d always know him. He didn’t break the contact, a small smile appearing on his lips as me mouthed something.

‘I’m proud of you’

You mustered up the best smile you could, repeating the same things silently so that only he would know it. Pressing your lips together pacified, you once again accepted that it was over. You had accepted it so many times, but you had to keep reminding yourself.

With one last look in his direction, you raised your hand up, curling your fingers into a fist before bringing it down to your chest, right over your heart. His smile only grew as he gave you an affectionate wave. Best friends after all, you knew each other like the back of your hands.

And then everyone tossed their caps into the air, as cheers resounded through the hall. Laughter and chattering filled the area, and you knew it would be alright in the end.

You accepted the fact that Taeyong would haunt all your what-ifs, even as you tried to move on. All the kisses at midnight and late night talks out on your adjoining roofs, the long drives and ice cream dates- it was a thing of the past.

And yes, it still hurt when you recalled all the beautiful things that had happened with your time with him, the way the two of you were so beautiful.

It simply wasn’t meant to be, even if you were still in love with him. Heck, you were sure you’d always be in love with Taeyong, a part of your heart would be reserved for him and him only, but it was time to let go. You weren’t okay right now, but you’d learn to be okay.

Still, it would have been fun if he had been the one.

fin.

#taeyong x reader #kpopscape #kokonomi #ankathia #nctcreations #neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct-writers #lee taeyong x reader #nct taeyong x reader #nct 127 scenarios #nct #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #taeyong angst

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hangezoeenthusiast · 4 years ago

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My L'Manberg

this little piece right here, what if we, as the reader, blew up manberg (l'manberg), in the place of wilbur, and wilbur took the place of philza. this is in honor of wilbur getting revived.

gn!reader

pronouns: they/them

warnings: explosions, yelling, death/dead body, cursing, angst, blood

(gif not mine! it’s on pinterest)

you were clapping for wilbur, in fact, most of the people was clapping for him. pogtopia and the rest defeated schlatt and his tyranny. finally schlatt's corrupt self wouldn't poison l'manberg, turned manberg.

wilbur gave his little speech about equality and peace and bla bla bla. then wilbur said something that was actually for importance, "it would be hypocritical if i lead this nation, so, i give the presidency to tommy, elected president tommyinnit, can you come up to the stage?"

tommy looked shocked, he didn't know that he would be leader of this nation. he came up onto the stage and hugged wilbur and thanked him for the opportunity.

"wow, in a million years i never thought that i would be president. well, thank you for the opportunity for this."

then he said something that blew everyone's minds for the second time, "i also cannot be president, i still have to get my discs back, and as i try to get cat and mellohi back from you dream, i can't handle a nation at the same time, so for the time being, i give the presidency to tubbo."

tubbo also looked shocked, not knowing that he was also a choice for the presidency of l'manberg. "holy shit guys, i never thought i would be pres, thank you tommy and wilbur for this opportunity, umm, so-"

you didn't hear anything else of tubbo's little speech. "how could they ignore me, i'm worthy to be president too." you thought to yourself. why would they complete forget that you were also a presidential candidate for l'manberg. you were one of the founder members of that nation. you, wilbur, tommy, tubbo, eret, even though he was a traitor, you guys found that wonderful nation. where men and women and just basically everyone could go and emancipate, right?

no, it wasn't like that anymore, l'manberg couldn't be restored to its former glory. nothing could be the same anymore. so you made the decision to blow the place to smithereens. you bargained with dream for 11 stacks of TnT.

"what do i get out of this if i give you this?"

"i'll give you all the op shit, the op armor, potions, weapons, and most of all, power, after all, don't you want to hold yourself in a higher position than tommy?"

he complied after you sweet talked him. he gave you 11 stacks of the TnT. so then you went to your little hiding place, hidden behind two blocks of stone. you pickaxed the stone, went inside, then placed it back.

"hmmm, should i, i mean, this is stupid. tommy shouldn't be president, i should, you khow what, no one should, everything we went through, everything that i went through, what's the point of this stupid nation, judgement and death passed on to everyone like a piece of cake at a birthday party, why should i let a hypocrite run this nation?" you contemplated.

it was confusing, you wanted to be president, but at the same time, you wanted this nation gone. meanwhile the other side was chaos. on the other side of the stone, the lyrical scribbles of the l'manberg anthem on signs, there was death. the badlanders and dream killing citizens of l'manberg. technoblade killing badlanders. but one person got away from this, it was the one and only wilbur soot.

he knew your little spot, he had found it on one of his daily strolls along l'manberg. he found the little seat you placed right in front of the button. right, the button, the one that would set his, your, nation up in flames and destruction.

so he went to the little spot, knowing he would find you there, since you were missing from the surface. "y/n, what are you doing here?" he asked you. he knew what you wanted to do. "why are you doing this y/n, we won manberg, no l'manberg back, why you want to destroy it?"

you were furious, why would he ask you a ridiculous question. "BECAUSE WILBUR, YOU AND TOMMY AND TUBBO ARE HYPOCRITES, YOU ALL DON'T DESERVE TO BE PRESIDENT, I DO, OR NO ONE DOES." you yelled at him. "i seriously was about to push this button, why did you stop me?" you groaned. you were about to push the button before he came into the hiding spot.

you heard people try to get to you and wilbur. "noo, they can't come in here." you retaliated.

"you don't know how close i was going to push this button, 7-8 times i think. you can't stop me wilbur." you blankly stated.

"no, y/n, don't do this."

those five measly words didn't stop you. you said one finally thing before l'manberg would be gone, "wilbur, are you familiar with the traitor of this nation, eret, well he said something, it was never meant to be." those words from eret, the ones that would be one of your final statements of your life.

you pressed the button and everything went haywire. the stone in front of you guys exploded, scratching your skin, making it bleed. wilbur trying to cover your body from the explosion. people being launched in the air. people getting killed from their enemies. people being in shock of the sudden explosion that occured in l'manberg. they finally got it back, now suddenly ripped to shreds.

"MY L'MANBERG WILBUR, MY UNFINISHED SYMPHONY FOREVER UNFINISHED, IF I CAN'T HAVE THIS NO ONE CAN." you saluted wilbur. signs of the lyrics smashed across the ground. blood shed everywhere. people looking at you with horror.

"KILL ME WILBUR, KILL ME." you demanded him. "NO I CAN'T, YOU'RE MY FRIEND." he answered. "FUCK THAT, KILL ME, DRIVE YOUR SWORD IN MY CHEST, COME ON, KILLBUR, KILLBUR, KILL ME, COME ON MR. PRESIDENT, DO IT."

you threw a sword at him, "take my life right now, i can't handle the embarrassment, please kill me." you whispered at him. all you wanted was death. he picked up the enchanted diamond sword, and drove the sword right through your heart. "thank you wilbur." you told him. your final words, haunting him, ringing through his ears. everyone looking at him with shock.

your blood coating the sword. everyone looked at your dead body. but then, wilbur hugged you to his chest. "why y/n, we had everything, you had everything." he cried, and he cried, and he cried until phil came and consulted him. "it's ok son, it's ok, let it all out." he sobbed in phil's arms, hoping that this was a nightmare, and that you were alive, and that l'manberg was blown apart.

but no, it was reality, you died by his hand, l'manberg was done for, and everything was torn to shreds, never getting rebuilt ever again.

(This is a extra piece, let me know what you think about it.)

you woke up in your bed, feeling like shit. you remembered what happened, your TnT ruining l'manberg. wilbur driving your sword through your chest, the pain, your final last words.

you forgot that you didn't have one last life during the explosion, you had two left. the first canon life you lost was from dream, during the disc war. the second was by wilbur. wilbur, your savior, the one who gave you peace for once in your life. "so i have one last life huh?"

so, later on made a beautiful house in the middle of nowhere, pet enderman named bob, op potions, armor, and weapons. you kept yourself secret from everyone, making sure that no one would find out you were alive.

(this part was kinda poo, i just added it for no reason)

#mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #dream smp #dream smp x you #dream smp x y/n #dream smp x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur soot x reader #louistommosnesquickmilk writes #louistommosnesquickmilk

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lovelyspencers · 4 years ago

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Both Sides Like Chanel

“I see both sides like chanel,

see on both sides like chanel.”

Synopsis: Spencer and fem!Reader have been dating for a while now and there is something that Spencer hasn’t trusted anyone else with that he wants to share with her

Content Warning: mentions of drug addiction, allusions to sex, brief mention of internalized homophobia

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: this is my first fanfiction and I’m not entirely sure how tumblr works yet but it is my mission to do something about the lack of bi!Spencer representation

Compared to his colleagues and friends, Spencer was a fairly private person. He liked to keep things to himself because his life centered around repetitious disappointments. So, he was content that his private life was not set on a stage, his misery displayed for everyone to see.

But then he fell in love with you the minute you walked into the bullpen and bumped into him, leaving your belongings all scattered on the marble floor. Spencer was never one for touch but when he took your hand to sweep you off the ground, butterflies filled his stomach like the air on a humid summer’s day.

After a few years of friendship, his adoration for you grew as easily as ivy on an abandoned house and it was on New Year’s Day that the team celebrated in Rossi’s mansion that his slightly intoxicated self decided that he was not able to hold it in any longer.

You had sneaked off to Rossi’s backyard after Garcia had gotten a bit of too affectionate and randomly started kissing everyone.

Both of you were slightly buzzed, your head laid in his lap as he explained the constellations to you. He wished that the sky above you was the only thing that filled his mind, but when he looked at you with your skin slightly flustered from the alcohol and your lips pursed as in deep thought, all that he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you.

It wasn’t the first time, the thought floated around in his mind. It had been so crucial in fact that the thought of your lips softly pressed on his played in his head like a film reel every night, unable to give him the sweet escape of sleep.

So, when the blank sky was filled with multicolored fireworks, the moonlight illuminated the complexion of your face and cheers erupted from the silence surrounding you without a second thought, he leaned in to kiss you.

You tasted like champagne and the strawberry lipstick you obsessively put on whenever you got anxious and to Spencer, he felt as if he had found the missing puzzle piece he’d been seeking for all his life.

And then like they always did, his thoughts began rushing through his mind like cars during rush hour and he instantly pulled back.

You were gonna hate him and then he would lose the only person he trusted with all his being and maybe you’d tell Penelope and everyone would laugh at him for believing that someone as amazing as you would ever-

But before his poisonous thoughts got the best of him, you grabbed the sides of his face and connected your lips with his again, filling the entirety of his body with pure bliss.

“I’ve been waiting so long for you to do that.” Your voice vibrated against his lips and he couldn’t help the smile that graced his face in the process.

The two of you could have kissed for only seconds or even hours because as he finally experienced what it felt like to be utterly yours, none of the things surrounding you mattered to him in the slightest.

All that mattered was that his biggest dream of your heart belonging to him entirely finally came true and he had no intention to ever let it go.

But even the most perfect moments couldn’t last forever and in this case, it was disturbed in the figment of the people the two of you considered family.

At first, you both didn't notice the footsteps on the grass, too caught up in trying to pour every stolen glance and hidden adoration in the simplicity of a kiss.

It wasn’t until cheers filled the silence around you that you hesitantly broke apart and were greeted with the sight of the team who all had smirks plastered on their faces.

To his delight, you didn’t entirely pull away from him like he thought you would instead you got off his lap to lazily wrap your arms around his torso. Subconsciously he pressed a kiss to your temple erupting even more amusement from the people watching you.

“About damn time.” Emily was the first to break out of her trance. Soon, congratulations were shared and the team tried to discreetly exchange money since they seemed to have some kind of bet going on. Even Hotch had a rare smile on his face and it was without a doubt the most beautiful start in the new year he could have ever wished for.

“I love you,” you muttered as you hid your face in his chest, and though there was no way the team could have heard what you told him, the smile on his face told them everything they needed to know.

“I love you too.”

He wished more than anything else that your love story could have ended that way and you lived happily ever after but this wasn’t a movie and the truth was that relationships were work. Work he was more than willing to put effort in but work nonetheless.

You loved each other dearly but you weren’t perfect and neither was he. Most of your fights revolved around his fear of vulnerability and even though he spent years building a wall around his heart so no one could ever shatter it again, he loved you far more than his self preservation so he tried his hardest.

And there was one particular thing, he always wanted to tell you or anyone who he felt earned his trust.

Throughout his life, his trust had been broken many times. So without even realizing it, there was a barrier between the two of you that prevented him from loving you to the fullest and he hated it.

But unlike Derek who immediately spread his problems around like it was just some gossip printed on the sixth page or JJ who kept Emily’s well-being to herself despite him coming to cry to her for months, you never betrayed his trust.

Even more so, you didn’t have that look of pity in your eyes that was equally as painful as daggers in his chest when he told you about his drug addiction or the schizophrenia of his mother.

You were easily the person on earth that he trusted the most but that didn’t mean that there weren’t some things that he still kept to himself.

But as he said, he wanted to change that and if one person was deserving of his honesty and vulnerability it was you.

Spencer had told you about his father leaving, the horrors he had to face that still haunted him in his dreams, his kidnapping from Tobias Hankel, and the cruelty of a childhood as a child prodigy.

While what he wanted to tell you wasn’t nearly as heavy it still felt like dead weight continuing to weigh him down.

Every time, he came close to telling you the truth, he got scared like a child in the dark and switched topics to something that didn’t matter at all.

Spencer also knew that you were aware that something was off. Before you started dating ten months ago, you had been best friends for years so he can positively say that you know him better than anybody else.

But today he had a plan.

You had been wanting to watch ‘Love, Simon’ with him for weeks and he had tried to avoid it for obvious reason but today he’d watch it with you and maybe then he’d gain the courage to talk to you.

He was aware of how illogical his fears were, after all, you had always been open about your bisexuality and had seen you beat up homophobes on various occasions (while Hotch hated it, it was on the long list of things that Spencer loved about you).

But he feared that maybe you wouldn’t want to be with someone who liked men and women or maybe that just didn’t fit with the type of man you were looking for or maybe-

Nope, he wasn’t doing this to himself. You were the kindest, most open hearted and loving person he knew and he had told you far more break up worthy thing than his sexuality.

When he had told you about his past drug addiction, you pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and kissed the fainting scars there and helped him get rid of the small stack of Dilaudid that he had kept hidden in his closet without any sign of judgment.

When he had told you about his mother, you pulled his head on your lap and started playing with his hair until the tears on his face dried and pinky promised him that you would stay with him even if he inhabited his mother’s illness because there was nothing that you would ever let drive a wedge between the two of you.

When he had told you about his childhood and confided in you for the relentless bullying he had to endure after you had found an invitation to a high school reunion in his mailbox, you had peppered him with kisses the entire night and showered him with compliments and love.

Not to mention that you convinced him to go to the high school reunion where everyone seemed equally as impressed by the beauty that his girlfriend possessed and the nature of his job. And every time, you sensed that he was uncomfortable you held his hand and wordlessly pulled him away, because you simply understood him like that.

The first night you slept over, he was more anxious over you sleeping next to him than the actual act of having sex with you (which said a lot because in a moment of desperation he had even asked Derek for sex advice) because he knew that the nightmares would jolt him awake again.

But it was so easy to be with you and when he pulled your body into his and showed you just how much he loved you in the most intimate act there was, all worries (and crappy advice that Derek had given him) left his mind and were quickly replaced by pure bliss and escasty.

And when he woke up shaking because some monsters don’t stay hidden in the dark, you were right there to comfort him until he was able to safely fall asleep with your arms wrapped around his waist.

Spencer was jolted back to reality when there was a knock on his door and he immediately wrapped you in a bone crushing hug before pouring all his worries and love into a kiss.

“We literally saw each other at work today. Did you really miss me that much already?” Your laughter that had become Spencer’s favorite sound ever since the first time he heard it filled the room, and he had to fight the urge to drop his plans and just worship you and your body for the entirety of the evening instead.

No, he was a man on a mission and he had repressed this conversation for way too long.

“I always miss you.”

And it was true, embarrassingly so. When you were on a case, Hotch decided against giving the two of you a shared hotel room, and every time, he had to fall asleep without your body heat next to him he felt as if there was some part of himself missing.

You gave him a peck on the cheek before you intertwined your fingers with Spencer’s and lead him to his couch where you rather ungracefully plumped down.

He joined you and your head immediately landed on his lap as a silent invitation for him to play with your hair which he happily obliged to.

“Can we watch ‘Love, Simon’ today?”

“Yes! I’ve only been begging you to watch it for years,” you laughed while grabbing the hand that wasn’t massaging your temple and holding it in yours.

He laughed too but it was filled with anxiety and you heard it because of course you did. Others might no be able to make out when he was uncomfortable but you always knew when to press him and when to leave him alone.

“We don’t have to watch that movie if you really don’t want to, babe,” you said as you propped yourself up to sit next to him again, all while never letting go of his hand.

“It’s not that. I just-”

Well, it’s now or never.

“I’m bisexual,” he blurted out, surprising himself with the sudden statement, and when he hesitantly locked eyes with yours there was none of the judgment or disgust he feared.

There was just love and understanding like there always was.

You were just about to say something before he gave you a look that clearly signaled to just let him talk for a bit and you answered the silent request with a soft smile and a gentle squeeze on his hand.

“I don’t know, I just used to have this crush on a boy when I was younger and I was confused because I only ever saw heterosexual couples, you know?” You nodded and that reassuring smile on your face never seemed to falter even a little bit, you looked almost proud of him.

“And then I got older and I started liking women too and I was even more confused because like who exactly do I like now?”

Sometimes during meetings in the briefing room or on the jet, you randomly held hands and squeezed them three time as a reminder that you loved each other without having to actually say it and that’s what you did during the brief amount of silence.

“When I was in high school liking boys was always associated with something bad so I just assumed that it was bad and tried my hardest to just suppress it.”

Spencer squeezed your hand three times too and took a deep breath. Seemed that even a genius like him could miscalculate and in this case it was the toll this secret had on him.

“But then I got older and realized that there was nothing wrong with being attracted to the same sex, and so I kind of accepted it even though I still had no idea what my sexuality was. It was just one of those I’ll deal with it later type of things.”

When he looked into your eyes again, you looked at him with so much tenderness that he felt as if his heart might burst out of his chest, even if that was biologically impossible.

“I had a boyfriend when I was in college, his name was Ethan and I loved him but it just didn’t work out. I never told anyone because I was afraid I think?”

He remembered the time of sneaking around and lying to his mother when she spotted a hickey on his neck during one of her visits, the frustration because all he wanted was to show the world the love they shared like every other ordinary couple.

But he also remembered the clandestine meetings, muttered I love you’s that were for no one else to hear and the feeling of falling in love for the first time.

“And then I was confused again because I still liked women too and then I met you and I fell in love with you the second I laid eyes on you honestly and then I thought that maybe it was just like a non-sexual thing but I am sexually attracted to you, I mean we have sex. I like having sex with you!”

You chuckled but it was not out of malice or disgust it was just there, floating in the air filling his body with a warmth that not even his thickest sweater could provide.

“Baby, breathe. It’s just me.”

You brought his knuckles up to your mouth to press a kiss to each of them and that simple gesture managed to calm Spencer’s nerve immensely.

“You were so open with your sexuality and I guess it just kind of made sense? And I know that some women have problems with men who like men and maybe you’re disgusted with me because I used to be with a man and I’m like not the manliest man and and sometimes I think about painting my nails because it seems kind of fun and-”

The thing about Spencer’s rambling was that he couldn’t stop. He wanted to especially when he saw the annoyance on everyone’s faces but you were always there to listen to him, even if you had no idea what he was talking about but as you felt his anxiety worsen with every word that left his lips, you interrupted him for the first time ever.

“I’m not disgusted at all. I love and accept everything about you and that includes your sexuality. Thank you for being open with me, I know hard that can be with for you. I’m very proud of you.”

You emphasized your statement by pulling him in for a kiss and that was the first time that Spencer noticed that he was crying, but you kissed him with all the tenderness in the world, wordlessly wiping away the tear that rolled down his cheek.

“You’re the most perfect man I know. I don’t care if you’re not the most manliest man to me you’re perfect and the love of my life,” you whispered against his lips and Spencer could only reply by deepening the kiss and trying to get you as close to him as humanly possible.

There was no rush or expectations, you were kissing as if you had every time in the world and the kiss was a silent promise that you still loved him no matter what.

And for the first time in what felt like ages, Spencer could finally breathe. Silence filled the room but it wasn’t uncomfortable by any means. You had placed Spencer’s head on your chest and played with his hair while occasionally peppering him with kisses, only a few reassurances and I love you’s accompanying the stirring DVD player.

“Did you mean what you said about wanting to paint your nails?” you asked after a few minutes passed and Spencer had wrapped his arms around your waist as if you were the anchor to a sinking ship.

Spencer chuckled not even remembering what he said during his ramble. “I guess so. Why?”

The thought did cross his mind from time to time, especially when he saw your impressive collection of various nail polish. He never cared much about other’s perception of his masculinity and Spencer realized that his fair of not being manly enough for you was nothing but utterly stupid.

“Do you want me to do it?”

He shyly nodded and a smile filled your face as you took his hand to examine it, probably debating in your head which colour would fit him most.

And as you left the room to search for the most beautiful purple you could find, Spencer sat in the living room, happiness spreading through every fiber of his being because for the first time he knew what it felt like to be unconditionally loved.

Both of you weren’t perfect but there were no more secrets left lurking in the shadows and he knew that as long as you wanted him, he’d always be yours.

You were the first person to truly accept and love him. All of him, and he never wanted to lose that.

As he sat in the living room, you sitting on his lap and looked at your fingers as you painted his in a dark shade of purple, he decided that it wouldn’t be long until the most beautiful ring he could find would adorn your ring finger.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #my writing #mgg fic #mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid drabbles #spencer reid one shots #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #bisexual spencer reid

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beyondspaceandstars · 4 years ago

Text

While You Sleep

Chapter 7

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: fluff, mentions of violence Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

(a/n: i know the ending is ehh but i promise more will be explored in the next chapter <3

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Your giddiness from the morning carried into the afternoon. You felt like you were floating half the time. The orders flying in flew out too as you moved flawless and happily through your work. Even when some customers would come up insisting their drink wasn’t correct, you accepted the complaint and happily presented a fresh cup. It was impeccable. A combination of feeling rested and feeling like you had someone.

You were at the tail-end of a rush when Steve came into the shop. He didn’t get in line, though, and instead took the last seat at the counter, watching you float about cheerfully.

You glanced up from the espresso machine. “Good morning, Steve.”

“Good morning,” he greeted back, watching you froth some milk for the newly brewed espresso.

You started pouring the milk into the cup, moving your hand delicately attempting to create some kind of pattern. “No coffee today?”

Steve shook his head as you placed the order under the pick-up sign and called out the name on the cup. You had a second to breathe and placed yourself back in front of Steve.

“I actually came to see how everything was going.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, a little smirk tugging at your lips. “I may be new to the whole soulmate thing but I am not clueless when it comes to friends. I’m sure Bucky is sharing everything.” You turned to start wiping down your workspace.

Steve frowned, “Bucky hasn’t told me anything.”

Your movements stopped. Brows furrowed in confusion, you asked, “He hasn’t said anything about me?”

Steve shook his head. “I just think he’s nervous. Probably wants to keep you for himself right now. I hear some soulmates can get like that at first.”

“Oh,” you hummed. “Well I can try to fill you in but there’s not much to discuss really. It's only been like a day. Dinner was lovely, though. Thank you for that, by the way.” Steve smiled. You continued, “He walked me home that night which was very kind, and then this morning he surprised me. He was waiting outside my apartment building to walk me to work.”

Steve’s jaw went slack. “Bucky walked you to work? Here?”

You nodded, maybe a bit too enthusiastically but you couldn’t help yourself. “We had a lovely walk and chatted along the way.” He stared at you as if waiting. “Steve, I’m not going to tell you what we talked about.”

Steve let out a light chuckle, throwing his hands up dramatically in defeat. “Alright, alright,” he said, “I won’t pry but can you blame a man for trying? My best friend is finally learning about his soulmate. That’s big for anyone but for Bucky in particular...”

You couldn’t help the blush creeping up on your face for what felt like the millionth time today. It was one thing to hear stuff from Bucky but to get an outsider's perspective, well, that was a rush. You held a little bit of pride from it as well.

“Well, thanks for getting us together,” you smiled, turning to wipe down a coffee machine.

“You’re not mad at me for the ambush?”

“Oh, no, I’m very mad about that.” You said, pointedly, as you glanced over back at Steve. He still had a shit-eating grin on his lips, not even an ounce of sorriness came off him.

“Well, once again, can you blame me? How else was I supposed to get you two to actually talk? Besides, I’m not actually hearing any complaints from you about it.”

Darn. He got you there. You sighed with a small nod and faced Steve once more. “No, of course, I’m not complaining,” you admitted, “you’re just lucky it turned out well.”

“It was always going to turn out well,” Steve said, matter-of-factly. “You two are soulmates.”

You frowned, “I could’ve moved on.”

Steve chuckled, absolutely dismissing the idea. “That doesn’t actually happen now does it?”

No, it doesn’t, but you didn’t want to admit it out loud. Once you actually stood in the same room as Bucky, you knew there was no turning back. However it may have ended up, you were always to feel that pull towards him. You think you were hooked the second you saw him on the television, despite that initial onslaught of fear.

When a few seconds had passed and Steve was still met with no answer, he gave you a smile. “Have a good rest of your day.”

As he turned his back to you, you called out, “I gave him my number.” Once the words left your lips you felt a bit unsure of why you were telling him this. “That’s another thing that happened this morning. I just really wanted to…” What did you want to do?

“Open that connection?” Steve guessed but you realized quickly that was correct. You wanted a more direct line to him, to maybe establish more happenings and dates. It sounded so fucking childish in your head but this all was so new to you.

Once you nodded, confirming his assumptions. Steve said, “He’s probably very thankful for that.”

Now he was really done speaking. Steve promptly left after that without any more goodbyes or chances for you to blurt out ridiculous updates. Why, anyways, were you actually updating Steve? Maybe because part of you felt you owed him. He sort of deserved to know a little about the couple he aided along in bringing together. Or maybe he was living vicariously through you two seeing as his own soulmate was gone. Perhaps, though, at the end of the day, he was a friend and from your previous observations, this kind of chatter over soulmates and first glances was what other people did. It felt good to finally sort of be in on it all with everyone else.

***

It was late in the afternoon when your phone buzzed. You were just starting to make your way to your apartment. Slightly confused, you turned on the screen to see a text message written more in the form of a formal letter.

Good afternoon. Did this send? Xo, Bucky

Despite the silliness and him clearly dating himself (not like it was a secret, though), you were practically wooed by the little hugs and kisses at the end. It really reminded you of some old-timey letter. You swore, it was always the simplest things with this man that just pulled you in.

Quickly, you crafted your message back: It sent! Was that your first text message ever?

After hitting ‘send,’ you started on the path back home. While maybe not expecting an immediate response, you also didn’t expect to be halfway to your building before Bucky texted back.

Yes, the text read. Can I call? -Bucky

You chuckled at the continuation of the sign-off but quickly replied, telling him you were free to talk whenever. Within seconds, your phone was ringing.

“Hello!” you said, fairly a bit too cheerily into your phone. You could practically hear Bucky’s smile as he answered.

“Hello,” he greeted you. “How is work?”

“It was good,” you said, “I’m on my way home now.”

“What?” Bucky gasped. “You should’ve told me what time you got off. I would’ve walked you home.”

You giggled, “Well, you maybe you should’ve asked what time my shift ended. I think this goes both ways, Buck.”

There was a moment of silence. “I forgot,” he eventually admitted with a sigh. “Someone had to go and kiss my cheek so I really couldn’t think straight.”

You let out a loud laugh at his comment, feeling a blush creeping on slowly on your neck and cheeks. Bucky matched your laugh.

“I’m sorry I’m such a distraction, I’ll do better,” you giggled. “Was there a particular reason you wanted to call?”

Bucky let out a bit of a disappointing sigh as if he didn’t want to admit something. “I’m not too skilled at this texting thing.”

“Oh,” you frowned, a bit uncertain. “It’s just like typing on a computer.” Sure, you said it like it was so obvious, but then you sort of hit you, remembering who you were speaking to. You stopped in your tracks, wanting to bang your head against a wall. “I-I mean-,”

“It’s alright,” Bucky let out a breathy chuckle. “I have typed on a computer but my phone doesn’t mimic that. It’s one of those flipping phones.”

“Flipping phones?” It took you a second but then the lightbulb went off. “Oh, you have a flip phone. No keyboard, then.”

“No keyboard,” he confirmed. “I figured out how to use the little keypad but it’s not exactly efficient. Plus, calling allows me to hear your lovely voice.”

You continued walking, suppressing a ridiculous, dopey smile as you passed others on the street. “You’re such a flirt.”

He let out a thoughtful hum. “Yeah? You think so?”

You caught yourself nodding before realizing he couldn’t even see you. “Absolutely,” you said out loud.

“Glad to know I still got some game.”

“Oh?” You inquired. “Were you swooning all the ladies back in the day?” The second the words left your mouth, you realized where this conversation was going and a sharp twinge of jealousy ran through you. Your eyes began watering at just the ridiculous thought of a hopeless Bucky thinking he had no soulmate and mindlessly pulling in girls left and right.

Bucky must’ve picked up on the sudden shift in you - possible perks of the bond - because he spoke very carefully after a minute. “Past me certainly did some things,” he admitted, “but he didn’t know there was a beautiful woman waiting for him way down the line.”

Your throat tightened a bit at the threat of tears. You took a couple of deep breaths completely shocked by how emotional one little thought could make you. The conversation on the topic hadn’t even lasted a full minute and Bucky was frantically calming you down.

You wanted to change the subject. Possibly putting it back on you. “When did you first learn about me?”

Bucky went silent again. You pressed the phone to your ear with your shoulder, waiting, as you rifled for your keys in your bag when you saw your building coming into view.

“They… I… I went, or really it, went dormant and I don’t know how I remember this, usually, my brain went blank in those circumstances, but one day I got this vision of you. You were playing with this bright, white cat on the lawn with this little house right behind you.” Mittens, you realized as you began unlocking your apartment door. He saw you with your pet cat Mittens whom you had when you were just a kid. “I was really confused until I felt that tug in the soulmate line or whatever they call it. I knew it was real because you never vanished. No matter what they did to me, when I was put away, you were there. Like some sort of angel sitting in my head. They couldn’t take that from me. They could never take you.”

You thought you were going to start crying as you stood in the doorway of your apartment hearing the sadness mixed with faint hope run throughout Bucky’s voice as he recalled the dreams. You could practically feel it all, too, within you.

“Bucky…” you sighed. A light sniffle came through on the other end but he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, Bucky abruptly turned the tables on you as you probably should’ve expected. While you wanted to talk more of it out with him (Lord knows it seems like he needed it) you let him steer the conversation.

“I know you said we could discuss this later but I’m very curious,” Bucky began, changing the subject as easily as you had just prior, “when did you first learn about me? You said you’ve seen some things but I’m really curious what your first impressions were.”

It was like someone just stabbed in through the chest. You really should’ve known this was coming. The first memories of Bucky - the Winter Soldier - flashed through your mind chaotically.

“I really don’t-,”

“Please,” he begged. The tone in his voice now… You had made it all too obvious earlier that morning. Of course, this was bound to come back around and you had opened the fucking gates. “It doesn’t have to be detailed. Just… something.”

You sighed, running your hands through your hair in anger as you took a seat on the couch. “You weren’t really you.” That was all you felt you could say as your heart was now in your stomach and your throat felt like it was filled with razor blades.

“I wasn’t…” He sounded confused at first but then the words trailed off. You could practically feel the exact moment when it all clicked for him. You wanted to throw up.

“Bucky-,”

You were cut off by the line going dead and the sound of dial tone greeting your ears.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter soldier #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #mcu #mcu fic #marvel fanfiction #marvel #avengers #soulmate au #angst #fluff #writing*#fanfic #fanfiction

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hyuckssunchip · 4 years ago

Text

눈빛

~the expression of one’s eyes

Pairings: Mark x Reader, ft. Johnny

Words: 3.3K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), angst, unrequited love

Synopsis:

It wasn’t as if Mark couldn’t see it, in fact he was almost sure that Johnny could see it too. The way that you looked at him. At Johnny.

“Horror or Rom-com tonight?” You turned to face Johnny, dressed in his familiar pajamas, plaid didn’t do him justice.

“I dunno, it’s your night to choose.” Your eyes followed his figure, and you admired the messy hairdo you had gotten so used to.

“Horror? Are you up for some nightmares tonight?” He laughed, and your heart skipped a beat at the sound.

You giggled at his response, but he recognized the nervous look on your face.

“Don’t worry I’ll keep you safe, just like old times.” He plopped on the cushion next to you, his body flushed against yours. This was nothing new, his warmth was a familiar feeling, but you could never get used to the butterflies that the contact sent through you.

“Remember that time you thought that Pennywise was hiding under your bed?” He snorted at the memory of you huddled on the couch in the middle of the night, begging for him to stay up with you.

“That was stupid, and I told you I didn’t like clowns.” You grumbled, wrapping the blanket around you tighter, trying to ignore the teasing looks.

“Sure, so I’m guessing you don’t like ghosts either?” He nudged you, raising his eyebrows.

“No, I’m fine with ghosts.” You mocked back, but the hint of fear was evident in your voice.

“Great! I know a great movie then!” He moved towards the remote, checking out your reaction from the side of his eye.

“Yeah…” You mumbled, sinking further into the couch.

You were interrupted by the soft slam of the front door.

“Johnny?” You turned at the sound of a new voice.

“Oh, hey Mark. We’re about to watch a movie, wanna join? It’s horror.” He sang the last part, taunting you.

“Oh.” The awkward tension didn’t leave, and you turned to face Johnny, indicating you wanted to be introduced.

“Oh. Y/N this is Mark, Mark Y/N.” Johnny went back to the TV searching for the movie and leaving you and Mark to awkwardly acknowledge each other.

“Hi.” You let out a soft whisper, waving a shy hand at the newcomer.

“Hi.” But all he could do was stare back, a tiny smile adorning his face. You returned his smile, and turned to Johnny, digging your elbow into his side.

“Ow! What?” He flinched, rubbing his ribs and giving you a teasing glare. You nodded your head in Mark’s direction.

“Mark, you gonna join?” He raised his eyebrows in question.

“Oh, yeah, I guess.” He stuttered out, glancing between the two of you as he fell into the seat adjacent from you.

The starting credits of the movie began, lighting up your faces. Throughout the movie you had dug yourself into Johnny’s side, his arm making its way around your shoulders, laughing at the way you used him as a shield.

“You could’ve said no to ghosts.” He whispered in your ear, with a teasing grin on his face.

“Shut up.” You smacked his chest.

From the other couch Mark watched your interaction, the way that you looked at him, the way that you held onto him.

“Oh, hi.” You were startled, looking up from the comfortable position on the couch.

“Hi.” You winced at the awkwardness, suddenly wishing you hadn’t showed up to Johnny’s place early.

Mark slowly sat down on the other couch, as if he was worried that you didn’t want him there. Which wasn’t exactly true, but also not far from the truth.

“Are you waiting for Johnny?” He asked, choosing to look at anything but you.

“Yeah, it’s movie night again, but he said he was running late.” You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, staring at the plant on the coffee table.

“Oh.”

The silence was heavy. Normally you weren’t this awkward, but apparently your social ineptness and his just made things worse.

You giggled at the thought and as a way to relieve the tension.

“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows, worried that he had done something.

“Nothing.” But you couldn’t help but giggle again. The laughter was contagious and soon you found each other’s company comfortable.

You wiped the small tear that was threatening to escape, “Oh my god, my cheeks hurt.” You shook your head, the last half an hour you and Mark had been laughing non-stop, bantering as if you had known each other as long as you and Johnny had.

He had the biggest grin on his face, a goofy look that you thought was sweet.

“What’s going on here?” Johnny entered, chucking his back by the entrance. He commanded attention, pulling you and Mark away.

“We were just talking about you actually.” You smirked, winking at Mark.

“Hey, that’s not nice. What’d you talk about?” At the sound of the both of your laughter Johnny had wielded one of the biggest smiles you had ever seen. He felt content at the sight of the two people he loved most being happy.

“Oh, just some things… like that time where we went swimming and you-” His hand slapped over your mouth as he sent you a glare.

Mark doubled over in laughter, as you ripped his hand away from your face. “I already told him, it’s not new news.” You laughed at the look of horror on his face.

“You said you’d take that to the grave!” He threw an accusing finger at you.

“Oops. I lied.” You giggled at his face.

“Whatever. Horror night again I guess.” He smirked at the way your face fell.

“No, it’s my turn to pick.” You whined at him, to which he promptly shook his finger at you.

“Uh-uh, you lost that privilege the moment you opened your mouth.” He reached for the remote, quickly trying to find the movie.

You pouted, crossing your arm over your chest. “Whatever.” The smile grew on your face as you made eye contact with a very red-faced Mark, who looked as if he was going to combust from holding in his laughter. “It was worth it.”

Mark snorted, unable to keep it in. “I can’t believe you-” But the rest of his sentence couldn’t be heard, his own laughter ruining the story.

“Whooo.” He calmed himself, dabbing the undersides of his eyes dry.

“Okay. You done now?” Johnny teased sarcastically. He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the grin that stretched over his face.

“Yeah.” But the tips of Mark’s lips never went down.

“Where are you going?” Johnny shouted at your back as you tried to leave the apartment.

“Mark’s taking me bowling. We’re going to practice so we can whoop your ass next Friday.” You shouted back, shoving your feet into your worn shoes, victims of your lack of patience.

He smiled at the sound of the door slamming, pleased that you two were getting along great. He wanted so badly for your friendship to work out, and possibly move to something more. Mark wasn’t exactly shy in the way that he looked at you, or talked about you. And Johnny could think of no one better he would approve of.

But the problem wasn’t with Mark, it was you. You were oblivious to his feelings, and even more so to your own. No matter how much time you spent with Mark, you told yourself that your heart belonged to someone else. No matter how wrong that was, you had convinced yourself that what you felt was love, and it wasn’t possible to feel that way for anyone else.

“You know I think you should get out there, I mean I know a really great guy that would be perfect for you.” You frowned at his words, not liking the sound of it.

You hated the way he was pushing you into a random relationship, especially when you just wanted nothing more than for him to reciprocate your feelings. But he was doing the opposite.

“I don’t want to get with a random guy.” You tried to push the idea away and move away from the topic.

“But you can’t just keep hanging out with me,” He frowned at your scowl, “I just want to do you a favor, I think you’ll really like him.”

“I don’t want to, Johnny. I’ll get into a relationship when I want to.” You pushed back, grabbing your phone as a distraction.

“When is that gonna be? You can’t just wait forever.” He tried to get your attention.

“Who says I’m waiting? I don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy.” You snapped at him, his words now hitting a little too close to home.

“I’m not saying you’re not happy, just that you should find someone that can love you the way you deserve.”

You tensed at his words, not quite yet understanding where that was coming from.

“I know, and I’ll find that when it comes along.”

“I can’t do that for you.” He let out, biting his bottom lip.

Your heart stopped and suddenly you felt your chest tighten.

“So you knew.” You felt hot tears of embarrassment threaten to fall.

“Y/N…” There was a pleading tone as he realized your hurt, but that didn’t stop him from his next words, “It was hard not to.”

You swore you heard your heart break. “How long?” You croaked out.

“A long time Y/N.” He faltered out, watching your expression fall.

The feeling of betrayal hit you hard, and unable to reach his eyes anymore you turned on your heel, just narrowly missing his outreaching grasp.

“Y/N…” He paused, noticing the way you hesitated. It was hard not to, after all your feelings were still so strong and so real.

But he never finished, and you took that as a sign that the conversation, or whatever this situation was, was over.

It was only natural for you to find comfort in the person that seemed to know you best after Johnny. Mark.

“I was talking to Haechan yester- hey, what’s wrong?” Mark immediately found your eyes, a pool of empathy that you longed for.

You sniffled and your bottom lip trembled as you tried to speak. “He...Johnny.” That was all you got out before your voice was swallowed by a sob.

He reached out for you tentatively, wrapping an arm over your shoulder. You automatically melt into his embrace.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, softer than before, but just as genuine.

“Johnny found out I like him…” You faltered, not wanting to come to terms with his rejection.

You were terrified at the sight of his face, he wasn’t at all shocked at your confession.

“Was I that obvious?” You asked, moving to wipe the streaks off your face.

He sighed, trying not to meet your desperate eyes. “I mean…”

Your shoulders dropped, face heating in embarrassment. “Does everyone know? Am I just that transparent?”

“So what if you wear your heart on your sleeve? What’s wrong with that?” He leaned down to make eye contact, trying to console you.

“He doesn’t…”

You didn’t finish, but he didn’t need you to. Once again, his arms wrapped around you and he swayed you in embrace for a moment of silence.

Although he hesitated to ask, he desperately wants to know the answer to the question on his mind. His timing wasn’t great, but he’s human too.

“Do you… still like him?” He asked the top of your head, not daring to move as he felt you stiffen.

“Yeah…”

Neither of you spoke.

“I don’t want to though.”

“Sometimes you can’t help it.” He mumbled, some of his own truth behind his words. “The heart wants what it wants right?”

“Yeah.”

“Y/N.”

You froze, it was too early for you. You knew the moment you laid eyes on him you would break again.

“Are you mad?” He asked gently to your back, although you couldn’t see him, the Johnny you knew was genuine.

You sighed, it was soon, but you wanted to be able to hold yourself together for this conversation.

“No.” It came out as a squeak and you flinched at the sound of your vulnerable voice.

“I don’t want… I don’t want our friendship to be like this. I don’t want things to change.” Your heart sank at his words, although he had good intentions you knew the meaning behind them. That anything more than a friendship was never going to happen.

“I can’t do this right now.” You whispered out, sliding past the door. You felt your throat tighten involuntarily and a sob escaped you as you ran down the hallway, bumping into Mark on the way.

“Y/N?”

You continued past him, not wanting to take the chance that Johnny had followed you.

But the steps caught up with you, and you found a pair of arms enveloped you from behind and your shoulders sank in defeat.

“Y/N?” You relaxed at the familiar voice. You turned around in his arms, choosing to wrap your arms around his waist. You fit snug against his chest, the warmth and his heartbeat calming you.

“Shhh…. It’s okay.” He patted the back of your head, raking his hands slightly through your hair.

You simply hummed, not able to formulate a sentence yet. Together you rocked silence, slowly but surely calming you.

“I’m just not ready.” You answered eventually, muffled into his chest.

“It’s okay.” He murmured back.

“I want to be ready to face him, but it still hurts.”

“Y/N, just take your time, you don’t have to be ready yet.” He comforted you, ignoring the own pain that he felt.

“Thank you.” You whispered into his chest, sniffling as you pulled away. You laughed nervously wiping your nose, “I’m sorry about your shirt.”

He giggled back, trying to make you feel better, “My shirt isn’t worth your apology. I’ll be your human tissue any time.”

You smiled shyly at his words, and you felt a small flutter in your stomach.

Another week had passed before your dreaded conversation with Johnny arrived. You finally felt ready to face the truth, but it didn’t mean you weren’t scared for the change that came with it. You weren’t stupid, awknowledging this meant that things weren’t going to be the same between you two. As scary as that was, nothing was going to get fixed if you avoided it.

“I- I don’t know where to start.” You had never seen Johnny so shy or confused. You were used to him being the powerhouse, the moodmaker. And it hurt you to see him look so defeated.

“Then let me. I have some things to get off my chest, and I honestly don’t know if I can do it if I don’t say it now.” You sighed, taking a deep breath to calm yourself.

He nodded, letting you take your time.

“It just hurt, you know. Like not only was it one-sided, but I just kinda felt betrayed that you played along with it. If you knew the way I looked at you and you didn’t feel the same, you didn’t have to play into it so much.” You paused, still looking at the ground. “You could’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want things to change. I love our friendship, and I never wanted something to come between us. I thought for sure things would get weird if I said something. I mean, look at us now.” He let out a nervous laugh, something that you couldn’t reciprocate.

“But don’t you think it would’ve been better to let me know, so I didn’t feel like you played with me and my feelings?” You felt bitter when reminiscing the moments he made your heart flutter.

“I never once meant to play with your feelings, I swear. I know it looks really bad, and it didn’t help stop your feelings when I acted like that. But I truly didn’t do it to mess with you, or purposely hurt you.” He reached for your hands, grasping you softly. “I didn’t want things to be like this, I just figured that you would find someone else and forget about me. I mean that’s what I hoped.”

You faltered at his words, heartbroken that he wished that your feelings would just fade.

“I know it was stupid, and it was harsh, but I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to hurt you and I thought this was the best way.”

You pulled your hands from his, fiddling with your fingers. But slowly you nodded, starting to understand him. Of course Johnny wouldn’t do that to you on purpose, you could trust him.

You watched as his expression visibly fell, and you wanted so badly to comfort him. “I know that you meant well, I just wish it didn’t come out like this, I wish you would’ve just told me. But I get that you didn’t want to hurt our friendship and I know this is probably better. I don’t think that there would’ve ever been the right time to tell me. It just hurts, you know. It would’ve hurt at any time though.”

You sighed at your admission, realizing that this was inevitable. With your feelings and your relationship with Johnny, this was inevitable, it was only a matter of when and how.

“I don’t want to say sorry for being hurt, or say sorry for having feelings for you, my feelings were valid. But I do want to say I’m sorry for reacting the way I did. I should have come to terms with it a long time ago but... I didn’t want to.”

He smiled sadly back at you. “Can things go back anytime soon? I don’t want things to be weird between us. I would hate our friendship to end.”

“Me too. I do think that it’ll take some time for things to go back to normal, if it will. But I want everything to work out the way it did before, and I’ll try.” You gave him a small smile, a means of offering your attempt in saving your relationship.

“Don’t be stupid. I told you it’ll never work, you’re just wasting your time.” You snorted at the loud thud that followed your words.

“I’m telling you, balancing upside down won’t get rid of your hiccups, what kind of logic is that?” Mark moaned in pain from his position on the floor, now sprawled out.

“Then what do I do?” He rubbed his head, face still red from the blood rushing to his face.

“Uh I don’t know, learn to live with it?” You snickered at the look he gave you.

“Uh… why is Mark on the floor?” Johnny walked in, staring between the two of you with a weird look on his face.

“He’s trying to get rid of hiccups.” You replied, leaning over the back of the couch to get a good glimpse at Mark.

“That doesn’t work.” Johnny said confidently, “I’ve tried.” He plopped on your right, staring down at the hiccuping boy, who glared back.

He wrapped an arm around your neck, pulling you into a soft headlock.

Things were still different than before, but you were starting to go back to normal. His touch no longer sent flutters through your stomach and you smiled at the interaction.

“What you need to do is hold your breath.” He motioned to the way he was holding you, “I can help you out with that.”

Mark glared at the older boy, “No thanks, I rather enjoy breathing.”

He rolled over and slowly sat himself up, leaning back on his hands. He cleared his throat, sparing a glance up at the two of you. “And hands off my girlfriend.”

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emitheduck · 4 years ago

Text

So. We're Soulmates? (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: my first soulmate AU, and I figured it was finally time, and bucky deserved one lol. no spoilers whatsoever

Soulmate AU where you have your soulmate’s birthday tattooed on your arm ---

March 10th, 1917.

(Y/n) had always thought, there was no possible way that the universe had ever, ever gotten her soulmate’s birthday right. When everyone was celebrating that their soulmate was around the same age as them, she got to look down in horror as she could practically see her soulmate’s life fly by. There was legitimately no possible way that her soulmate would even still be alive.

The rules of the soulmate were strange, and no one ever understood them or questioned them. It was found out sometime in the 80s that the dates on peoples forearms weren’t random--but the birthday of their soulmate. Because the universe was a cosmic nightmare, when someone’s soulmate died, the numbers went with them.

That’s what made this so strange.

Either (Y/n)’s soulmate was hanging onto life support, or the universe had fucked up and decided it was going to trick her into thinking she could find happiness like everyone else.

She had these feelings up until she got the faithful call one day, that she had landed the job with SHIELD and found out that she would be working in the helicarrier during the attack on New York. And that’s how she met Steve Rogers.

“You know, it’s kind of funny.” Steve sighed with a chuckle, shaking his head as he followed (Y/n) who was leading him to where he would be staying.

“What is?” She asked as she typed in the access code for one of the doors as they walked.

“The number on your arm. That’s my friend’s birthday.” Steve was smirking as he walked into his room. “I mean, it was his birthday.”

(Y/n) looked down at the date on her arm and sighed, her hand instinctively covering the date. “You sure he’s dead? Not some hundred-year-old veteran in a nursing home that you haven’t checked in on or something?” She was trying her best to not sound horrible for joking about his friend's death, but he seemed almost amused by her banter.

“Last I checked, he’s dead. I watched him fall off the train and everything.” He told her as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “His name was Bucky.” He told her as she turned around to leave, watching her stop for a moment to listen before she left.

Steve’s words always lingered in the back of her mind ever since that day on the helicarrier. She had seen the Bucky memorial spot in the museum, and the day she found out that he was alive, she would never forget (mostly because when it happened, she had dropped the bottle of wine she was holding on the floor and spent hours picking up tiny shards of glass).

The year was now 2023. Five years after the blip, and (Y/n) now fully retired from SHIELD. She left on good terms, but the years of working were just exhausting. Especially now that she came back after vanishing for five years and had to rebuild her life all over again. At least they were respectful, and were happy to give her the pay that she had missed out on.

It was hard enough having to deal with knowing all your close friends sacrificed themselves for the whole world, and not being able to do anything about it. That was the reason that kept her up most nights. The guilt of feeling like she could have done something, but never got the chance to, was the hardest feeling.

That’s what led (Y/n) to walking aimlessly around the grocery store at almost 2am. When she couldn’t sleep, sometimes the best thing to do was walk around pushing the cart and praying that the LED lights would calm her down enough to go home and face the empty apartment.

What she didn’t expect was turning the corner of the frozen section and crashing her cart into someone elses. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” (Y/n) apologize as she looked at the man in front of her. “I should have been looking. I guess I’m just tired.”

“I’m probably just tired too.” He chuckled, pulling his cart away from hers. Both the carts were empty anway. “You come here to walk around at night too?”

“How could you tell?” (Y/n) laughed, running a hand through her hair as she looked him over. He looked familiar, and knowing her luck he was some assassin that was stalking her, and came here to finish the job.

He motioned to their empty carts with a bob of his head. “Something about just pushing the carts around and listening to the crappy music makes me feel better too.” He smirked as he never broke eye contact. “Also, people normally buy food when they’re shopping.”

(Y/n) sighed, nodding. “You caught me. I’m just here to wander.”

“It’s okay. I am too. Sometimes staring at the TV isn’t enough.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he broke eye contact to look where his hands were gripping the handle of the cart. “Sorry, I’m just rambling I guess.”

“No, I get it.” She laughed it off, knowing it was late and sometimes people just kept talking when they were tired. “My names (Y/n).” She smiled, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He seemed to hesitate, but reached out and shook her hand. “My name’s Bucky.”

She could feel her mouth go dry. “Bucky?” There was just no, possible way that this was the man who has been in the back of her mind for years on end.

“I’m guessing you know who I am.” He muttered, already preparing himself to turn around and forget this interaction never happened. “Sorry, I should go.”

“Wait! No, I didn’t mean it like that.” (Y/n) exclaimed as she held her hands out to stop him from leaving. “I just have heard so much about you--not the way you think, it sounds so weird. I talked to Steve about you once, way back before the battle of New York.”

She peaked his interest at the mention of Steve. “You knew Steve?”

(Y/n) nodded. “He told me all about you. Look, I even have your birthday on my arm.” She told him, lifting up her sleeve to show him the date on her arm, watching his eyes go wide out of shock. “Steve liked to always tease me that I had your birthday, and I always told him that I probably had some old man, sitting in some hospital bed, decaying before our eyes. Wow, I am rambling, I am so sorry. I should leave.” She was bright red as she decided to just leave her cart where it was and accept the humiliation and leave.

“No, you don’t have to go.” Bucky told her, gently grabbing her arm to stop her from leaving. “I guess now that you showed me yours, I’ll show you mine.” He grinned as he let go of her arm, using his left hand to pull up his long sleeve. There on his arm, in bold black numbers was (Y/n)’s birthday clear as day.

“Do you maybe want to go get coffee at that 24 hour place across the street? We might have a bit we need to talk about.” She was dumbfounded. Steve would always tease and joke, telling her that Bucky was her soulmate just because it was the same birthday on her arm. But due to the fact that he was presumed dead for so long, (Y/n) never thought anything of it.

“Are you going to come inside? I’ve been holding the door open for almost a minute.” Bucky asked, laughing a little uncomfortably as he watched the woman just stand at the door of the diner. She didn’t even remember the walk to get there.

(Y/n) blinked, rubbing her eyes as she nodded and walked inside. The sign said seat yourself, and she found a nice seat by the window for the two of them. “Sorry. I guess I’m just a little speechless.”

He chuckled as he shifted in the booth. “I’ll be honest. Me too.”

“So. We’re soulmates.” She shrugged, feeling uncertain of herself. Finding her soulmate was never the first thing on her mind, because she never actually thought that she would find him. Sure, the universe also had a way of making the two cross paths at some point, but because of the age, she never cared.

“When I used to see the date on my arm, I thought it was a joke.” He told her, mumbling that he wanted a coffee when the waiter walked over and asked what they wanted. “She wants a coffee. Two cream, one sugar.” He said as the other man nodded and walked away.

“How did you know my coffee order?” She asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

Bucky opened his mouth like he was about to speak but sighed. “I legit have no idea. My brain was working for me, and it just came out.”

(Y/n) laughed. “I mean, we’re cosmically linked so it does make sense.” The coffee was set down in front of them and she smiled as she held onto the mug. “Is this when I ask if you can tell me about yourself?”

“Where do I start?” He asked as he set his coffee down after taking a sip. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but I go by Bucky. James is only for when shit hits the fan I guess.”

“I think I prefer Bucky.” She smiled, watching as his cheeks turned red for a moment.

“What about you Doll? What fun thing do you have to tell me?” Bucky asked her with a smirk, making it her turn to blush.

“I worked for SHIELD, that’s where I met Steve. But then there was that time we found out that Hydra was inside of SHIELD, and technically you tried to kill me.” She pointed out, watching as he put his head down in shame. “But that’s all in the past now. I’m not that person anymore.”

He took a sip of his coffee before he spoke. “What changed?”

(Y/n) sighed, shaking her head as she held onto her coffee mug for warmth. “I was pretty close with Steve and Natasha. Tony helped me get the job at SHIELD, too. Three people that I looked up to more than anything, were gone before I ever got a chance to say goodbye.” She told him, knowing that there would be no more tears left to cry. Her tear-ducts seemed to stop working after she had cried for days straight that they were gone.

“I wasn’t very close to anyone but Steve, but I do understand how you feel.” He told her, leaning across the table to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Do you live in the city?”

“I live pretty close to Hell’s Kitchen.” She told him, watching as he nodded. “I’m guessing you live in Brooklyn?”

He looked a little surprised, but still smiled. “How could you tell?”

She smiled back, a little shy. “Some part of me just knew, but the other part of me heard Steve talk about Brooklyn all the time. He loved it there, and I guess I thought you did too.”

“It’s definitely still amazing, but a lot has changed. I’m still getting used to it all.” Bucky confessed, putting down some money for the coffee as they both finished and stood up from the table.

(Y/n) checked her phone and sighed at the time. 3:30 in the morning, and there was no way she was going to sleep now. Now, she was going to ride the train and hope that the rocking of the subway would be enough to turn her mind off for a while. “I should get going. It’s getting late, and I’m taking the train back.”

He nodded, seeming a little uneasy that she was about to leave. “Do you maybe want my number? We could meet up someday, maybe get to know eachother better?”

She grinned as she handed him her phone. “Put your number in.” She told him as they traded phones, smirking as she put in her contact. “I put my information as (Y/n)-Soulmate, just in case you seemed to forget.”

“Oh trust me, I don’t think I’ll ever forget.” Bucky chuckled as he looked at her contact. “Promise you’ll call?”

“Considering the fact I’ve known you for a few hours, and I’m already completely head-over-heels for you, I don’t think you have to worry.” (Y/n) told him, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Bye for now, but not bye forever.”

Bucky was grinning like an idiot, and he knew it. “I like the sound of that. I still just can’t believe I found you after all these years.”

“You better believe it, because you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me from now on.”

MASTERLIST

#bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x reader #marvel #reader insert #reader #bucky imagine #falcon and the winter solider #winter solider x y/n

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