#if the pets didn’t need to be watched i would’ve been one of the bridesmaids

[threnodians]

operation do not cry at my irl bestie’s wedding: FAILED

[soundofseventeen]

We Belong Together (Part Seven)

I planned to update last week, but life throws curveballs. But I hope you’re enjoying this!!!! 

Word count: 1327

“And then I said, ‘Just because I took a year of Japanese, doesn’t mean I can speak it.’” As expected, the small gathering of the bridesmaids threw their heads back and laughed at Jooheon’s cousin’s story, which apparently called for another round of spirits that had somehow made their way into the dressing room and you managed to stay composed.

One of the two requests you had for Jooheon was that you didn’t want anyone drinking anything alcoholic before the ceremony because you didn’t want anyone falling, fighting, getting nauseous, or anything else that you managed to forget, and here was his family, blatantly disregarding the rule.

“Y/N, have a drink!” his cousin said, already tipsy. She giggled, tilting her head back and finishing up whatever was left in her cup.

You forced another smile, shaking your head, trying not to let your temper get the best of you. “I’m good. Ahnjong went to grab me a coffee before you showed up.” You wondered how long she had been gone, and the paranoid part of you let you know that she abandoned ship and decided not to participate in the wedding.

“Aren’t you gonna start putting your dress on? You’re gonna be late for your own wedding.” 

“None of you are supposed to see me in it yet, so I have to wait for you to be ready.” How easily the lie escaped you, surprised you. “So why don’t you guys get ready first? I still have to look over some things.” As if you were expecting it, someone knocked on the door and in walked the long awaited artists, which left everyone screaming and squealing in delight.

*

The bridesmaids were so loud as you left, you weren’t sure how the vicinity wasn’t complaining to you or your fiance. You’d covered your ears multiple times, so much so that your earrings accidentally stabbed you once in a while. So, once the makeup artists and hair stylists finally set up their stuff, you managed to leave the room, saying you needed to use the bathroom and that you’d be back after checking some stuff that had no reason to be looked over. Ahnjong hadn’t returned yet, so you’d been left with a majority of Jooheon’s family, the claustrophobia hitting you slowly over time.

You were still in your robe, not wanting to dress up yet, but insisting to the bridesmaids that they needed to be ready first, somehow managing to convince them that you could be a few minutes late. You wandered through the corridors, surprised that you didn’t bump into any of Jooheon’s friends until you ended up outside his dressing room. You could hear them vocalizing and harmonizing nothing in particular and before you could stop yourself, you knocked on the door, hoping to at least complain about the no drinking rule being broken.

“Jagi,” Jooheon said when he opened the door. He was still buttoning the last of his white shirt, Kihyun behind him, swiping a lint roller through his back. The surprise lasted momentarily, which was quickly replaced with concern. He kissed your cheek. “You know we can’t see each other before the wedding. It’s bad luck,” he joked. Slowly, his familiar smile returned and you weren’t sure if that was worse. 

But, oh if he had known that if you didn’t see him, you would’ve run. This already felt more like a last viewing of a funeral rather than a union of two people. You couldn’t even offer him a smile in return. You wondered how he had done this everyday since you were together, and so sincerely! He didn’t even comment on how you were nowhere near ready and here he was, looking as ready as ever. Like if it was an everyday thing for him.

“Is everything okay? You look sick.”

You felt sick. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. You needed to be waking up from this nightmare soon. You finally forced a smile, nauseated. “I’m fine, just a little nervous.”

“I know. I am too. I’ve waited so long for this day and I can’t believe I finally get to marry you and spend every moment of my life with you.” He kissed your cheek again.

The piercing of your heart hurt you but you weren’t sure if it was the guilt of agreeing to be with someone you didn’t love and or because you didn’t wanna hurt him...all of which resulted with you never being happy again, and if this was meant to be your punishment, then you could probably live with it. But you also knew that Jooheon deserved better than what you could give him. He gave you one last hug and you finally went on your way, still contemplating if you could make it to the airport before the ceremony began. 

You even went as far as going to the front door, hand turning on the knob, ready to flee. The creaking sound it made set off your adrenaline and you had one foot out before you knew it. There was no breeze out, but the difference in the air made you sigh. The world felt happy and bright, unlike in here all stuffy and stagnant. All you had to do was slide out and you’d be on your way. The best pet was that no one would even know you had abandoned everything here. All you had to do was take that extra step. So you did.

And it finally felt like you breathe a little easier now that you weren’t inside a building. Your other request to Jooheon had been having an outdoor wedding and he had readily agreed to it, lifting the weight you had on your shoulders. It had been the smartest move you ever made since being with him and it was basically the only thing that made you happy. (Besides, you know, his cats.)

The few minutes you were out there, you saw everything moving, looking alive. You noticed the people running in and out of places in a rush, hopping into cars and taxis. You even saw the number of buses that kept coming and going across the street from you. Maybe if you just crossed the blacktop street during a red light, you could hop on the next bus and see where it took you. At this point, you didn’t care if it took you to the next city, or country….or an airport to a new continent. The possibilities were endless. 

“Y/N!” Ahnjong called you seemingly out of nowhere, holding out an iced coffee for you. “You wouldn’t believe how many places I had to go to until I found this brand! This is yours and Jihoon’s favorite, right?”

His name hurt you more than it should’ve but once again, you faked a smile and gave her a small nod. “We had to order them online so many times because they’d be out of stock and whenever we’d find one at any stores, we’d clean the shelves.” You didn’t tell her out loud how much you missed those adventures. The few times you were able to get them at your job, you just had to call to gloat, and he’d start yelling at you to give him half, and he snuck a lot of them to the dorms and stashed many of them at Universe Factory.

Ahnjong didn’t catch your trip down memory lane, so she skipped back inside the venue, leaving you outside and watching more and people line up at the bus stop, waiting for the vehicle to take them to your destination. Maybe if you just moved your feet, you could see where it’d take you.

But something stopped you before you could run and you went back inside, dejectedly. Instead, you closed the door as loudly as you could, releasing some of your frustration, and ran back into the dressing room, the outside world taunting you of its freedom.

[darkpoisonouslove]

I want reactions to Griffin and Marion's relationship. Specifically Faragonda's, Ediltrude and Zarathustra, Hagen, Oritel, and Saladin's. (Also imagine Valtor having known Griffin before Marion knew her, maybe through a book group or something that he was using for information, and then getting jealous.) (Because angst.)

Okay, I was trying to write some Griffin x Valtor but then @her-majesty-wears-jeans gave me all the feelings for Griffin x Marion (and Griffin x Valtor too but that doesn’t really help for what I was trying to work on) so let’s do this. (At last. I’m sorry this took time.)

This may be set in that AU where they both end up as queens of Domino.

Faragonda - Faragonda is honestly thrilled that Marion and Griffin are together and happy. She might have felt a twinge of sadness since there were some not completely realized and absolutely unadmitted feelings for Griffin on her part but she can’t be angry or upset because of that. She’s still not quite sure how far those feelings could’ve gone if she’d let them and if she would’ve ever done anything about them so she’s happy to see Marion and Griffin getting the love they deserve from each other. They’ve both been through so much that they deserve only the best and they really seem to get each other so they are the best for one another. She’s happy (and a bridesmaid).

Ediltrude and Zarathustra - They’re both a little bit... shocked at first but they’re happy for Griffin. Ediltrude is also taking this to mean they’re welcome at Domino’s palace (since they basically come all packaged with Griffin) and is ready to move in already. Zara is a little bit more mindful of the situation and first tries to make sure that Marion means well and really loves Griffin and it isn’t just some ploy to break her heart (she’s not buying this shit that fairies all mean well and would never hurt anyone on purpose). She does relent after she’s carried out an interrogation but still warns Marion to be careful not to hurt Griffin. She’s basically acting like a big sister and Griffin isn’t sure whether to love her for it or smack her to get her to stop. Marion finds her cute and is actually glad to know that Griffin has someone who cares for her. She doesn’t find neither Ediltrude nor Zarathustra cute anymore when they start teasing them mercilessly about the smallest of things and threatens to hex them herself when they really cross the line. The twins do come to love her as a sister too, though, especially when they see that she really tries to treat them and all other dark magic users with respect and genuinely cares about the problems they’re faced with. It’s the first time someone with light magic has done that and they are actually touched even if they won’t admit it.

Hagen - Hagen is the one who is, of course, mindful of Griffin and warning her to be careful what she does with Marion. It’s the big brother routine like he’s practiced it. Griffin is rather amused by it, actually. And of course, he thinks that she must do something to hurt Marion because she’s a witch. She’s not surprised by that and even takes it better than she normally would because she understands where Hagen is coming from, to an extent. Considering her own experiences, she is a bit apprehensive of how good of a girlfriend she’ll make for. So she understands and looks on Hagen as a well-meaning irritant rather than anything else. Kind of like a mosquito that is just doing its best to help but is instead buzzing the wrong tune. She holds that comment back for Marion’s sake, though. She knows Marion really cares about Hagen so she just guesses she’ll have to get used to him. Marion is worse off, having to tolerate the relentless pokes of the disaster twins so she finds ways to adjust. And Hagen comes around with time when he sees how much she really loves Marion. So it’s all well, even with a squabble here and there.

Oritel - Oritel is rather heartbroken as he was falling for Marion but the witch snatched her right under her nose. He might have been ready to accuse Griffin of having her under a spell but Hagen stopped him as he knew that wasn’t the case. Oritel’s pride might have also been shattered along with his heart and he wasn’t exactly his most polite self when he first had to interact with Griffin but when he saw that Marion was happy, he couldn’t keep it up (especially knowing that his behavior upset her). He’s obviously not Griffin so he might have not been able to make her happy even if he’d gotten the chance to be with her. So he learns to live with it and respect that relationship as it is obviously built on love and trust and results in happiness. And neither Marion, nor Griffin has any responsibility for the pain he’s going through. They don’t control their feelings just like he doesn’t control his. So he is happy for them and he even becomes protective of them both. Not that they can’t watch their own backs (and each other’s) but it can never hurt to have another ally.

Saladin - Saladin didn’t have much thoughts on the matter. He was a bit surprised since he knew Griffin’s opinions on ignorant light magic users and royalty and Marion kind of combining those things (or at least being raised to do so) made it hard to figure out how Griffin had fallen for her. He might have found it a little strange and there might have been some thoughts that Griffin may be doing all of that just for her cause to prove that dark magic is just as important but he was smart enough to observe before talking and he was quickly convinced that Griffin was very much in love. And Marion was too, the two of them really in sync with each other, so he was happy for them. Griffin deserved some happiness and considering her tendencies to get into trouble despite being a logical person, Marion was proving a good influence as she balanced her out and helped her calm down and try the kinder approach first which was somewhat new to Griffin as she’d learned that no one would do that for her so she wasn’t bothering to do it for other either. But Marion helped break through that mindset and it was good for both of them so he was glad.

Valtor - Valtor was insanely jealous on account that a) how could Griffin choose the side of light after how passionate she’d been about defending dark magic and its place in the world? and b) how could she chose Marion’s Dragon Fire and power over his? It was a double betrayal towards her kind and kind of personally against him even if there’d never been anything between them. As far as he was concerned, since he and Marion were opposites, Griffin choosing to be with Marion was Griffin preferring her and her light Dragon Fire over him and his powers. It never occurred to him that there might be something else other than power and political motives in there. And he brought those feelings to the spotlight as he fought them, calling Griffin a traitor and Marion’s pet (which, needless to say, angered both women and they converged against him, defeating him and him barely getting away).

Griffin’s mom - She was happy for her daughter. As long as Griffin was happy, that was good enough for her and it didn’t matter with who Griffin was. However, she was glad that Griffin was being more sensible in her mission and avoiding sinking further into darkness now that she was surrounded with people who cared for her and loved her. She really loved Marion for the positive influence she was having on Griffin and didn’t even feel the need to give her the mom talk. She did feel the need to hug Marion, though, as she noticed how stiff and formal she was being and she wanted to make her feel welcome and wanted. Marion was really touched and was later telling Griffin how much she liked her mom. “Didn’t expect so much warmth from a witch, did you?” “I should’ve guessed. Like mother like daughter.” Followed by a gasp that was supposed to be taken as offended but instead came out as shocked since Griffin still wasn’t used to being thought of as warm and anything positive in general. Marion was also glad that Griffin’s mother didn’t feel the need to treat her differently because she was royalty. It was all very natural and she loved that.

[dmcdrabbles]

*slides you a nice, shiny red orb* 'ey fam you wanna fuck me up with something about the Reader being 100% totally-has-been-since-forever-in love with Nero, but dumb rowdy angel boy either doesn't see it or is with Kyrie?

I got this one SO long ago and it turned into The Mega Ficlet™ which is super exciting for me because even though it’s not that long, I’ve never written this much for a request before (or for most things lol). I think I just really like angst, even though I have much trouble expressing it (๑•́ ω •̀๑) I hope this sad enough lmfao

–

Pairings: Nero x Kyrie, onesided Nero x Male Reader

Summary:  Your best friend is getting married. Of course you’re happy for him. Why wouldn’t you be?

Word Count: 5,638

Warnings:  angst, recreational alcohol use, offscreen injury

——————————————————————————————

The summer after the Qlipoth was as hot as hell on Earth, the kind of summer that got everyone sluggish, running their daily routines at half-speed. Funny how so immediately after life-shattering disaster normalcy slides right back into place, as welcome as an old friend.

Three months have passed, and Redgrave was well into its repairs. Donations came pouring in from outside cities with the unspoken sentiment of “poor thing, but we would’ve done better”; benevolence with an undercurrent of superiority. Even the Devil May Cry crew- including Dante and his brother- had returned to something approaching ‘normal’, whatever that meant for people like them.

You, on the other hand- you had been benched for most of the past three months after a Behemoth had snapped your femur like a twig. Nico had offered to build you a new leg and seemed only mildly discouraged at your reminder that you didn’t plan to cut it off. It was the second big personal disaster of the year- the first being the Qlipoth roots pulverizing your apartment building, forcing you to move in with Nero and Kyrie. You hobbled around their place and felt like a goddamn burden most of the time. You practically begged the doctor to take your cast off.

Only three months gone and normal had slid back into place like one of Nico’s vinyls, spinning round and round and playing the same familiar tune. This one’s called ‘We’ll Be Fine’.

But disasters came in three for you, they always had.

“Okay, okay, slow down!” You yell, pressing your hands against your knees as you try to catch your breath. Ahead of you, Nero slows to a stop and whips around.

“Tired already, Y/N?” He taunts, laughing. “You’ve gotten soft since we left the Order.”

“I just got my cast off two days ago! I’m a normal amount of tired,” You pant, wiping sweat away from your forehead with both arms. Your right leg is throbbing with pain, but you try to keep your steps even. “You’re just too energetic.”

With the rubble cleared in Redgrave City and most of the populace trying to hide from the heat, most of the sidewalks were prime real estate for training. Whole long stretches for Nero to torture you back into shape with. Just like old times. He could always leave you in the dust, fucked-up leg or not.

“What’s got you so bouncy?” You manage, coughing into your wrist.

Nero’s face twists a little and he cups the back of his head, elbows up to the sky as he stretches. The tension in his face melts away as he contemplates, and you almost want to look away- there was just something so private about seeing him so unguarded. He carried the weight of all his stress in his knit brow and his tensed jaw; you haven’t seen him look this relaxed since before you left Fortuna.

“Hey, what’s that look for?” You ask, taking shaky steps to catch up to him. “You get some other new power I didn’t know about?”

“I wanted to talk to you about that,” Nero drops his arms, swings them a bit as you two start walking side by side. Nowadays it’s so obvious how much of a growth spurt he had- you can remember a time when Nero was so much shorter than you that the morning sun wouldn’t be shining behind his head like that. You have to squint just to look at him.

He rubs his nose, and you stiffen despite your exhaustion. Didn’t take a genius to know what that meant, just someone who knows him half as well as you do.

“About your new power?” You laugh, halfhearted. Weird how even emotional weight slows your footsteps these days. “Did you grow another arm or something?”

“Y/N,” He says, coming to a stop. You just keep walking, trying to keep the jaunt in your step. “I finally asked her.”

“Oh,”

“She said yes.” His voice is so soft.

Couldn’t have expected personal disaster number three to happen so fast. A chronic injury, chugging along with almost-ignorable pain just flaring up fast enough to floor you. Switch the vinyl, play another old song- this one’s called ‘Be Happy for Him’.

“Damn, Nero! Congrats!” You slap his shoulder, “You and Kyrie, getting married? Knew it had to happen eventually.”

A grin breaks out along Nero’s face, and he rubs his nose again. He wraps his arm around your side, yanking you up against his. Like this you barely have to use your bad leg and walking almost feels relaxing again. You’re so close you could tilt your head and rest it on his shoulder.

“We were hoping to have the wedding soon, maybe this month–”

“Why? Any pressing needs?” You joke, petting the air in front of you where a round belly would sit. Nero slaps your hand down.

“No!” He yelps, face red. “We just don’t know how long it’ll be before the next crisis, you know?”

That crease between his brows is back, eyes far off like he was still trying to see the future. Looking for some guarantee that they’d already suffered enough this year and could rest easy for once.

“I know.” You tell the sidewalk, as quietly as if its some kind of secret.

“We don’t exactly have a lot of people to invite, and we wanted something small.” He says, slowly. “About that…”

You round the corner together, finally reaching a part of the city with enough appeal for the people to brave the heat for. You two get more than your share of annoyed glances as passerby weave around the wide blockade you form with your entangled bodies. Nero barely seems to notice.  

“Y/N, you know how long we’ve known each other?”

“Iunno. Nine, ten years maybe?” You wrinkle your nose, thinking back. “All I remember is Credo bringing this little snot-nosed runt into training one day and saying that he was going to join us.”

“Runt?” Nero snorts, “I kicked your ass!”

“Only because you fought dirty!” You jab him in the side and he twists away from it, laughing. “Remember what Credo said when they pulled you off me?”

“'Holy Knights don’t start fistfights’?”

“God, so lame.” You shake your head, willing away the less cheery memories that latch themselves to your time in Fortuna. “So like, a decade. What about it?”

Nero pauses, and realization comes to you quickly. Is it entrapment if he’s got his arm hooked around your shoulders like that?

“You’re the closest friend I have, Y/N…”

Don’t ask this of me, you want to say. Instead you stare ahead, burning the memory of this street into your mind in third-person perspective. You wonder how many of the other people around you are feeling that chronic pain of heartache stabbing at them with every throb. It’s an invisible disease with no risk of mortality; the worst symptom is just a constant feeling of being the dumbest person you know.

“Will you be my best man at the wedding?”

“Really! ‘Will you be my best man’, he says.” You burst, laughing a bit. “You’re making this sound like another proposal! No need to be so formal!”

“You’re such a pain,” Nero grumbles, taking his arm off your shoulder and shoving you. An innocent passerby dodges you by an inch, tossing a dirty look over her shoulder at you. “Will you do it or not?”

“I,” You look at the ground, at the buildings, at the dozens of bystanders watching you squirm. “I think I’d make a pretty shitty best man. I don’t know anything about weddings, you know?”

“You’re not our wedding planner,” Nero protests, “Practically just a witness.”

“What if I don’t want to ‘witness’ you and Kyrie being all lovey-dovey as always?” You quip, trying to sound lighthearted.

“Please?” Nero grabs your hand, turning you around to face him. The two of you are taking up the entire sidewalk- you’re probably shoved once or six times, someone probably yelled at you- but it doesn’t even seem to matter. You stare at him, transfixed. You’re pretty sure you’ve never even heard him say ‘please’ before. “I want you there.”

God dammit. That’s not even fair.

“Okay.”

—

It’s three weeks before the wedding, and Nero’s picking out his tuxedo. You had feigned some horrified shock at the idea- you’d never seen someone force him into formal wear before, let alone seen him wear it willingly. You were half sure he asked you along just to spread the misery.

“If I knew the job meant giving you fashion tips, I would have charged you.” You grumble, shifting uncomfortably on the fitting area couch. Weird how they could spend so much money on interior decorating and still make the place so awful to stay in. Still, it was the only place that had managed not to get destroyed by the Qlipoth, so it wasn’t like you had many options.

“Right?” Nico drawled, foot kicking so fast it practically vibrates. She’s been on edge since the attendant confiscated her cigarettes. She sticks out against the artistic monochrome of the store like a tattooed sore thumb. She leans full on against you, the literal to your metaphor of leaning on her. It’s easier to tamp down the melodrama with her crowing in your ear every other minute. “Maybe the wedding should be trash bag themed. Kyrie would still look cute.”

“Oi, quiet out there!” Nero calls from the other side of the stall. “Nico, what’re you even doing here? You’re a bridesmaid!”

“Maid of Honor,” Nico corrected, “And you need all the fashion help you can get. Now are you coming out here, or what?”

The dressing room creaks open loudly, and Nero takes his first step out. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he looks almost…sheepish. You’ve never seen him look like that before, and it hits you with a sudden rush of wondering how many other sides of him you’ll never see.

At the beat of silence he spins around and looks at himself in the hallway mirror. He seems so much taller and broader in a suit- he’s nearly as big as Dante now and he looks it.

“Nero, you look…” You start hesitantly. The pause could last a second or an hour and you wouldn’t know any better- it’s unbearable. And punctuated with a loud slap as Nico smacks your thigh with her open palm, jolting you out of your seat as you wheel on her with wide eyes. It throbs in familiar pain again and you clutch it mindlessly.

“Damn, Nero! You ain’t look half bad when you’re cleaned up!” Nico locks eyes with you, a broad grin on her face. “You tell him, Y/N!”

“Right!” You blurt, following her lead. “Never would’ve guessed you’d look so good in a suit.”

Nero glances at you over his shoulder, smile softening his features back into that unfamiliar little boyish look. The wedding date’s barreling towards him and Kyrie faster than Nico in her van, but every day his face seems to hold that unguarded bliss for a little bit longer.

“Good thing, I don’t think Kyrie would have wanted me to get married in street clothes.” He turns back to face the mirror, tugging the hem of his suit again like he’s not used to jackets that fit right. “You don’t think the blue is too much?”

“It brings out your eyes.” You explain. You had picked it off the rack for him with that in mind. Nero’s eyes meet yours in the mirror for a moment, and you wonder if you can play off that softness in your voice for some sort of sentimentality.  

My best friend is getting married to the love of his life and I get to be there for every second of it. I’m so happy I could just die.

“Thanks. I guess this one’s probably it then, huh?” Nero looks down at the suit again, pinching it off his body to look at the fabric. It really is a good match, and you tuck away the little factoid that you’ve spent so much time staring into Nero’s eyes that you’ve memorized their lovely grey-blue.

“You don’t even wanna try the one I picked out?” Nico pouts. She pulls a half-smoked cigarette from her shirt pocket and sets it between her teeth. “Fine, fine, go on and change. We’ll see y'out front.”

Nico has the decency to wait for Nero to get back in the stall before she accosts you. She grabs your arm and yanks you up from your seat, dragging you around the corner and behind the racks of suits. These ones are so expensive you don’t have to worry about customers coming by. How clever. Her fingers are like daggers in your bicep when she spins you around.

“Nico? What the hell are you-”

“Okay, listen here.” She whispers, stabbing your chest with one of her little dagger fingers. Her cigarette stays surprisingly steady between her pursed lips. “I know what’s goin’ on with you-”

“There’s nothing going on with me,” You whisper back, slapping her finger down and rubbing your bruised pec. Your heart races under your palm.

“Hey, hey, shut it!” Her voice climbs until an attendant looks over, and she drops it back down into a conspiratorial whisper. “Trust me when I say I feel for you, but you can’t be doin’ none of that-” She clasps her hands together and flutters her eyelashes at you, then snaps back into a stern pout, “Around him, y'know?”

You open your mouth, then close it. Who cares. I’m already obvious.

“I’m not doing it on purpose.” You whisper, and Nico has to lean in even closer to hear you.

“Well of course you ain’t,” Nico slaps you in the arm, glancing around the corner to make sure Nero’s still in his changing stall. “Nobody’s looking that tragic on purpose.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime. Listen,” Nico’s voice drops into a more serious tone, and somehow it makes you nervous. “I’m gonna help you out here. You work with me, and we’re gonna get out of this with minimal damage. It’s a goddamn miracle Nero ain’t already noticed the little crush you got on him, homewrecker.”

The relief drops back down into the pit it rose from. She might as well have slapped you, would’ve been just as funny and hurt less.

“I’m not a fucking hom-” The dressing room door’s creaking cuts you off, and Nico snaps away from you faster than you can finish your sentence. Nero whistles lowly as he turns the corner, suit folded over one arm and lifting the price tag.

“Damn, Y/N. You really know how to pick 'em. This suit’s the most expensive thing I’ll own.” He sighs and let the tag hang, looking up at you and Nico for a moment. He double takes the expensive suits around you, face pulling into a wince. “I am not trying any of those on.”

It’s two weeks before the wedding, and Nero is practicing old drills with you. You never would have thought he’d be the one to suggest it- back when you two were teenagers he hated those drills more than anyone else you knew. Not that it meant his form was ever sloppy; he just played fast and loose with the rules and his sparring never suffered for it. You, on the other hand, had found comfort in the repetition of the exercises; you would practice them over and over until they stuck in your head like ‘Be Happy For Him’.“I can’t believe you still remember all the steps,” Nero mumbled into his shirt, lifted to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He had shoved Red Queen tip-down into the dirt and you had to stifle the old habit of nagging him about it. No officers to get in trouble with anymore. “I did the drills a lot more than you did.” You snort, starting up the drill again from the top. It was nice to know your body could still make the motions. “Never saw the point in them. Nobody fights like,” Nero picks up Red Queen and copies the four steps of the starting drill, “You follow that pattern every time, you’re gonna get your ass kicked by the first person who notices it.”You roll your eyes. “That’s not what the drill is for, which you’d know if you listened to our instructors.” You switch up the first drill halfway, changing to the end part of the third drill then back to the top of the second. “It’s so you know how to respond to your opponent and always have something to fall back on. And for good blade control.”Nero stops your sword with his own, stepping up in front of you so you can see his skeptical look. “So you just go back to the old moves one way or another. But people and demons don’t exactly fight fair. What happens when you get something you don’t have a drill for?”“That’s what the control is for.” You push down Nero’s sword and straighten yourself back into your familiar sparring stance. “Wanna test it out?”“Thought you’d never ask.” Nero grins, spins Red Queen just to show off. “You gonna be good on that leg?”To answer you dash forward, sword flashing in a flurry of sweeps you already know Nero will dodge. Using unblunted weapons is a bad idea, especially at this speed, but you and Nero spend more time practicing with real blades than fake ones anyway. He recognizes the drill as expected and brings Red Queen down by his legs in anticipation of the final slash. You feint away at the last second, whipping your blade back and starting up a different drill; this one presses him to retreat back step by step.He doesn’t even try to attack. Maybe he can see the slight stumble in your bad leg, maybe he knows you’ve never favored your left so strongly before. You stop your drill halfway again and instead make a slash around his head so fast that he stumbles back afterward, a ‘what the hell?’ popping out of his mouth just as a tiny lock of his fringe falls to the floor. “Your cut was a little uneven,” You explain, mouth curling up into a half-smile. “Blade control.”Nero huffs and shrugs, ruffling the front of his hair for a moment and starting to turn away. At the last second, the dull side of Red Queen sweeps the back of your good knee and you crash to the ground with a yelp. Nero stabs Red Queen into the ground beside your head, plants one black boot next to it, and leans over you with a smirk. “Fighting dirty.”

—

It’s one week before the wedding, and you’re sitting at the kitchen table making wedding decorations. The original plan was just flowers scattered everywhere- Nero and Kyrie both loved them- but bouquets were too expensive for a Devil Hunter’s budget. So origami it was.

“Done.” Trish announced, dropping one last flawless stalk of paper leaves onto the table. You had been skeptical about Kyrie’s choice to enlist Trish and Lady with the decorations, but one glance at their work had you eating your words- they were damn good at this. “Do you need help with the roses?”

You exchanged a look with Nero, staring at each other and then the messes you two are making out of the paper. You laugh and slide over a stack of paper. “Yes, please.”

“So, Y/N, how are you holding up?” Lady asks after a moment of working in silence. Your eyes flick to Nico for a second and she raises her hands up defensively, like she expects you to attack her with some delicate handmade decorations.

“Uh,” You accidentally rip one of the petals you’re working on and you curse under your breath. “What do you mean?”

Lady looks between the two of you for a moment, mouth twisting into an amused half-smile. “Your leg?”

“Oh. It’s fine.” You flex your leg out as if to test it again. It responds with a resounding throb of pain. “Would be even better, if somebody didn’t decide to clothesline me with his sword.”

“Come on, I barely hit you.” Nero grumbles, waving away Lady’s dubious look without glancing up from his rose. He’s starting to get the hang of it.

“I figure after the ego bruises heal I can get started on finding a new place.” You continue, just as Kyrie walks in with the snacks for everyone. She stops short, mouth falling open in surprise just as Nero turns to you with an almost identical expression. It would be funny if it wasn’t directed at you.

“Y/N, I didn’t know you planned on moving out so soon!” Kyrie starts up again, placing food and drinks on the table as she watches you with a strangely worried look.

“Ah, well,” You take your drink and gulp it down to spare yourself some time. “After the wedding I thought it would be nice for you and Nero to have the place to yourselves.”

Nero pulls his mouth in a tight line. “We’re not gonna kick you out.”

“You don’t have to,” You say, awkwardly. “I just think it’s going to be awkward having an extra roommate around.” And I can’t pay my share of the rent if I can’t fight anymore.

“You’re always welcome with us,” Kyrie smiles gently, until Nico groans loudly and makes her jump.

“Aw, come on. Don’t make it weird for’im.” Nico crosses her arms, locking eyes with you and nodding just the slightest bit. “He’s just too nice to say he wants his own place again.”

Lady and Trish’s eyes ping-pong between the four of you, watching the argument unfolding with mild amusement. You drop your own gaze to the table to avoid locking eyes with anyone.

“Well, you can stay with us in the meantime,” Kyrie pipes in. “At least until you get back on your feet?”

“Nah,” Nico fills in for you again, “Because he’s gonna be stayin’ with me.”

—

It’s the night before the wedding, and Nero is sitting with you at the bar. He’s trying to salvage something more relaxed out of this bachelor’s party that he didn’t really want, and you’re doing your best to help. Dante’s plan to “show up at the bar and see what happens’ combined with the only guests being the groom, the uncle, the estranged father, and the lovesick best friend is turning about as well as could be hoped.

“He didn’t,” Nero sounded horrified, but a grin was stretched wide across his face.

“I’m serious!” You insisted, shouting over the music and the chatter all around you. You took another cautious glance all around- you hadn’t seen Dante for well over an hour, but you still felt the need to check. “He said ‘if we can’t take Nero to the strip club, we’re taking the strip club to him’. Word for word.”

“Noooo,” Nero moaned, his entire upper body melting onto the bar even as he shook with laughter. His grip stayed firm around his beer though- he learned well from the last one. “Stripper nuns, though? The hell does he think I’m into?”

“I was afraid to ask,” You take another gulp of your own drink, eyes falling closed to savor the way the alcohol seemed to turn even your anxiety into a pleasant blur.

“How the hell did you talk him out of it?” Nero asks the bar, blindly wiping the condensation off his beer glass.

“Told him he could bring stripper nuns to my bachelor party someday.” You lean your face on your hand, watching Nero’s back shake again. You were pretty sure he was giggling. “It’s hard being a martyr.”

“Martyr?” Nero turns his head, pillowing it on his forearm as he smiles at you. God, he’s so drunk. “You’re my guardian angel.”

“At your service,” You salute sarcastically. The conversation lulls and you rest your chin on your hand, glancing around the room. When you look back down at Nero, he’s still watching you. His smile has faded back into something thoughtful. “What?”

“You finished packing up this morning, right?” Nero mumbles, head bobbing slightly with his words.

“Yeah. Nico already picked up my stuff, so I’m staying with her tonight.” You tap your fingers against your glass. “She offered to start teaching me her gunsmithing too.”

At that, Nero sits back up. “Really? You gonna have to pay an apprenticeship fee or something?”

“Pff, no.” You stare at your glass. “But I’ll be joining her side of the business. For now, at least.”

Nero stares at you for a second, mouth open. “The hell? And you didn’t tell me?”

“Uh, sorry?” You twirl your cup, face twisting into a grimace. “I’m just testing it out for now.”

“Jeez. You’re leaving devil hunting and I’m getting married. What a year.” He sips his beer. “You excited?”

You look at Nero for a moment, not sure how to answer. How do you say ‘I’d rather it all stay the same forever’ without sounding as pathetic as you feel?

The bartender saves you, sliding up to offer refills. You accept, and she turns to Nero.

“I’m still working on it,” Nero sits up, drunk grin relaxing back into that soft expression he got so often lately. “We probably shouldn’t drink too much before tomorrow.”

“Special occasion?” The bartender asks, sliding your drink to you and picking up your old glass to clean it out. You take it in big gulps, a medicine for the upcoming repetitive conversation- you’ve heard people ask Nero about it so many times you can’t stand to be sober for it this time.

“Wedding.” Nero grins. The bartender whoops and tops off his beer.

“Finally some good news in this city. Everyone’s so damn depressing lately.” The bartender picks up a clean glass, clinks it against yours and Nero’s cups in turn. “Congrats, you two!”

The warmth in your stomach cools, then freezes. You fumble, exchange a glance with Nero. “Oh, I’m not–”

“He’s the best man,” Nero explains, red up to his ears. “I’m marrying someone else.”

“Oh,” The bartender says, sounding genuinely surprised. “Sorry, you were just looking at each other all puppy-eyed-”

“Where’s your bathroom?” You interrupt, and you must look queasy because she hands you a plastic bag from under the counter even as she points to the back corner. The second your bad leg takes your weight it crumples under you, and Nero’s arm shoots out to hold you up. You twist out of his grip.

“I’m good, I’m good-” You assure him as you stumble off, not caring who you bump into, breathing hard into the plastic bag. People sober enough to see the way you heave part way for you, clearing a decent path to the bathroom. You shove the door open as hard as you can. To your irritation, it doesn’t even make a peep. You scan the room- empty. You run into a stall. You fall to your knees in front of the toilet bowl.

And you let out a sob.

It echoes through the bathroom, multiplying until it almost feels as loud and as crushing as it feels. You grip the bowl and empty your tears into it, whole body curling into itself tighter and tighter like you can make yourself so small and weak that the pain will leave, satisfied. Every sob forces its way out of you violently. Let it out, you tell yourself sarcastically, the same way you would if you really had just vomited into the bowl like you were supposed to.

You don’t know how long you kneel there, only that by the time you finally roll onto your ass your knees are numb. You’re still crying but at least the roaring in your ears has died down enough for you to hear your phone vibrating against the tile. It must’ve fallen out of your pocket. You glance down, eager to shut it off, but it’s slid far into another stall and you practically have to crawl into it to pick the phone up. At least the gaps under the stalls are massive.

Two notifications- a text from Nero (‘you ok?’) and an incoming call. “NICO” flashes across the screen. Right. She was supposed to be picking you all up.

“Finally you answer!” Nico yells into the phone, and you wince away from it. “You know how many times I’ve been callin’ you, dummy?”

“Sorry,” You whisper into the phone. Another sob shakes you, and you cover your mouth. Too late.

“Hey, you doin’ okay?” Her voice is so much softer than usual and it makes another sob bubble up out of you.

“I’m so tired of this, Nico.” You whisper, voice taking on a harsh edge as you grit your teeth. “I can’t do this.”

“Hey, hey, hey lover-boy, it’s just one more day. One more day and this shit’s over and done with.”

“It’s not!” You hiss, drawing your knees up tight to your chest. When your voice comes out again, it’s rising louder and louder. For a second the music in the bar seems to climb with your voice, then it’s damped down again. “It’s not done tomorrow! Tomorrow is the ‘first day of the rest of their lives’,” Your voice breaks in a half-crazed, exhausted laugh, “And I’m so happy for them! Nobody in the world deserves it more than they do! I should know, I’ve been by their sides for almost a fucking decade!”

“Listen–”

“We don’t have the Order anymore, we don’t have Fortuna anymore, but they have each other and Nero is so, so happy with her.” You have to pause, overwhelmed by another breath-stealing shudder, “I would never want to hurt Nero. I want him to be happy.” Your whole body seems to relax at once, ragdolling you against the stall. “I just wish he could be happy with me.”

“Listen, lover-boy,” Nico starts, but you don’t hear the rest. Through the bottom gap in the stall you can see a pair of black boots, standing motionless just a few feet away. They turn slowly, and by the time you have the stall open he’s gone.

—

It’s the day of the wedding. They planned it for the evening, just a simple ceremony in a simple place with a small group of people and a simple reception. The details blur together like you’re still drunk. Nero hasn’t spoken to you since last night, and you can’t tell whether it’s deliberate. On their wedding day, grooms rarely have time to chat, let alone confront their best man on what they may or may not have heard the night before.

As planned, you and Nico walk the aisle together to your spots. You’re too slow for the music and you know it, but you’re not used to your new cane yet and you haven’t gotten the right rhythm to support your steps with it yet. Nico stayed up late crafting it for you, said you couldn’t just keep fucking up your bad leg by walking on it as much as you do. She’s working overtime to act like you’re just hungover instead of emptied out from an emotional breakdown, and when you can feel present again you’ll be sure to thank her. Until then you stand behind Nero, face schooled into a smile.

How far back would you have to go to save yourself from this feeling? The moment you accepted your role as best man? The moment Nero told you he was getting married? Your choice to follow them after the crisis in Fortuna? The day you and Nero were sworn into The Order? The day you met him?

How many years would you erase to stop yourself from being here this day, this time, standing at Nero’s side and knowing the fact it was a place no longer reserved for you?

Had it ever been?

Nero looks back at you over his shoulder, brow creased up in that soft expression that has gotten so familiar over this past month. Not a sign of fear or regret. It was the face he made when those butterflies fluttered in his stomach, when he told you about being with Kyrie, about the future he wanted together with her. A face that said he couldn’t wait for the future.

But his eyes are sad. And you have to wonder what that means.

He turns as the music started for her walk down the aisle. So beautiful in white, the fabric of her veil fluttering behind her almost reminiscent of Nero’s wings. She glows in the sunlight. The smile on her face crumples into an overwhelmed grin as she looks up the aisle to her groom and his best man, both of whom stood there with faces wet with tears.

As Kyrie and Nero step into each other’s spaces they bubble off the world around them. No pretenses between them, no expectations, just hands meeting and a whisper under Nero’s breath of her name, spoken like the most intimate word in the world.

And you stand there privy to it, like a voyeur to joy that was never meant for you or your ears.

Tonight, tomorrow, a week from now, a year, you can rebuild yourself into something that you hate a little less. You reassemble yourself just like Redgrave City has, piece by piece. You can play that familiar tune “We’ll Be Fine”, because you will be.

But for today? Today you witness their first kiss as husband and wife, and you stumble a little when you let go of your cane to applaud.

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Those Wedding Bell Blues

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Summary: marrying into the Harrington family wasn’t exactly easy, but damn was it worth it.

Word count: 15k

Warnings: FLUFF, maybe like two swear words, religion (I mentioned a church like once)

Author’s note: HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY! So I have to confess, I love Steve, will always come first in my heart above Billy. So, I had planned to post this fic that I had written based on this scene from Pride and Prejudice. And then I read what I had done and saw that it needed massive editing and that it was super short. So I took a fic that I had started writing at midnight last night, edited it and the original post and combined them. So this isn’t super perfect, you can definitely see the seams of where I combined them, but it’s what you’re getting.

Tag List (If you want to be added, message me!): @steveharringtonofficial @lovelydacre @flamehairedwritings @hotstuffhargrove @itstartswithhelloo (idk if you wanted to be tagged but you are now soooooo)

FEEDBACK APPRECIATED!!!

You and Steve got married on the spring of 1991. It was massive events, the biggest in Hawkins; all because Steve’s parents refused to let their only son, the heir to the Harrington fortune and the insurance business, do anything half-assed. So, they rented the biggest space in the Hawkins area, a giant hall thirty minutes outside Hawkins and invited almost the entire town and then some. Everything was detailed and perfected, a true testament to the power of money and small town notoriety.

And you and Steve hated it.

No, you loathed it. It was a complete train wreck of an event. You had wanted something small and simple and Steve, well he would’ve been happy to have just eloped.

But that wasn’t going to fly, so on the day of you stepped into the puffy monstrosity that was your wedding dress, chosen by your mother and soon to be mother-in-law, and forced a big, lipstick laden smile for the cameras.

There were really only three moments from your wedding that you loved: 1.) coming down the aisle, 2.) your vows, and 3.) coming home from it.

Of course, every bride loves to see their soon to be spouse at the end of the aisle, but you felt especially grateful. At the end of the church hall were the people who you’d fought the forces of evil with and won, all there to support you and Steve.

Nancy, Max, El, and Kali, all itching in their puffy pink bridesmaids’ dresses, the wounds of war hiding just beyond their eyes. They all seemed peaceful, calm; the threat of war gone, finally letting them sleep. The memory of Barb floated in the air, the missing fifth person to your party. You kept her in your mind that day.

Dustin, Lucas, Mike, Will, and Jonathan, all watching with their own minds whirling, thoughts beyond the moment demanding their attention. Lucas, Mike, and Jonathan stealing glances at the girls, shy smiles and secret thoughts that made them blush and avert their eyes quickly. Dustin and Will had taken to helping Steve to find the courage to turn around, the organ beginning to play the wedding march as you and your father took the first steps into the church.

When he finally did look at you, time stood still. You watched as his face seemed to change in slow motion, the nervous looks melting into one of sheer, unfiltered love. He loved you, the feeling was impossibly more clear now. And you loved him, the last strings of doubt snapping and frittering away.

That was the moment breathtaking moment you could name. It took number one on the list.

Your vows took second. You and Steve had insisted on writing your own vows, much to his parents chagrin. They knew their son wasn’t the most remarkable writer and the idea of their friends and colleagues sitting through clumsy basketball metaphors made them both sick.

But when the time came, no such thing happened.

“Y/N, I’m not good with words, but you already know that, so here goes.” He began, earning laughs from the spectators, polite smiles and little whispers to their neighbours.

“When we met, I was a mess and I really didn’t think that I could ever fall in love again. I thought I’d be alone forever. But you never seemed to let that happen. You stuck by my side, even when I forced you to go. But you came back, you always came back. You believed in me when I was sure that no one else did. You’ve been there for me every time I’ve needed you and that’s why I love you. Well, that and a million other reasons, but anyway-”

You laughed at that, the face splitting smile you wore somehow getting unimaginably bigger.

“I promise to you now that I’m gonna do the same for you. I’m gonna be by your side at all times, in sickness and in health and all that. I love you, I really, really do.”

Steve’s vows weren’t perfect-he switched topics randomly, his wording was casual and sometimes awkward. It was messy and not fully focused. And it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard.

You loved Steve’s imperfections, all the little flaws that made him Steve. You loved his goofy smiles and his bad advice and his slight obsession with his hair. You loved how big his heart was and how self-sacrificing he was. You loved how he fought for the people he cared about and how he’d risk everything for his loved ones. You loved how he remembered the tiny details and how he just wanted to make people happy. You loved his bad writing and weak basketball metaphors.

You loved Steve.

You told him all of this with tears in your eyes, promising to always take care of him. You both cried just a little, despite Dustin’s slap on Steve’s back and whispered reminder to ‘be cool’. Steve just flipped him off for that shitty piece of advice. Who the hell tried to act cool on their wedding day?

Your vows reminded both of you of the love you shared. They were your second favourite part of the evening.

After the ceremony, everything went as well as expected. All the expected problems happened: Hopper got too drunk and made an awkward speech no one asked for, your parents fought over dinner and made everything weird, the kids (now young adults) were all hormonal and messy, and Steve grandmother passed out during the ceremony, snoring loudly during the vows.  But you saw this coming.

What you didn’t see coming was how tiring it all was. Neither Steve nor you saw how quickly the fall from married bliss to exhausted boredom would happen that evening, but it happened. No less than twenty minutes into the reception, you had muttered to Steve “Can we leave yet?” and that question was on both of your minds for the rest of the night.

When you finally got to leave, around midnight, the two of you were practically falling down tired and you had taken off her heels, carrying them as she stumbled into Steve’s car. The pair of you drove off in peaceful silence back to your apartment for the night. You didn’t leave for your honeymoon until the next afternoon, so you had that night and the next morning to recuperate from the wedding itself.

Steve still insisted on carrying you over the threshold, the heavy princess dress your mother had insisted upon got stuck in the doorframe, making the two of you laugh harder than it should have. Once inside, the process of ditching the marital trappings began. You began throwing off her expensive decorations quickly, letting the puffy veil fall to the floor and the overpriced shoes lay in a pile by the door. You stripped off the dress with Steve’s help and leaving it in a pile on the floor of their tiny living room. You were left in the expensive lingerie Nancy insisted that you needed for your wedding night. But you didn’t exactly feel sexy, though Steve was looking at you like she hung the moon, what you felt instead was intense happiness.

A smile broke onto your face, lighting up the whole room “We did it.” you muttered softly, wrapping your arms around Steve’s neck, eyes locking on his. You kissed him lightly, so softly it hardly felt like a kiss at all, almost like he’d imagined it. And everything was beautifully quiet, so peaceful and calm and dark that it felt as though the world had stopped turning entirely. Not that either of you would care, you’d be happy to sit in that never-ending bliss for the rest of time. The bliss of being newly married, the afterglow left by an evening filled with exhausting, nauseating at times, selfish and selfless, love.

“We’re married…”Steve muttered into your hair, pulling you closer and holding you tighter.

You giggled softly, running your fingers threw the ends of his hair “We’re married.” you repeated, nuzzling into the curve of his neck.

“What do I call you now?” he asked, running his hands up and down her back. You made a small noise of acknowledgement, willing him to explain himself. “I always called you Henderson, but you’re not Y/N Henderson anymore.”

“You call me Y/N.” She retorted softly, chuckling to yourself “What else are you supposed to call me? I mean it’s not like you don’t call me that anyway.”

“Not often…only when I’m happy.” Steve muttered back, lifting his chin to look at you again, as though he’d lose the image if he didn’t keep staring at you, drinking you all in.

“Well…then you should call me Mrs. Harrington when you’re happiest.” You replied, raising an eyebrow just slightly, the corners of your lips stretching farther into a smile, though it didn’t seem possible that you could smile wider.

Steve pondered this for awhile, thinking to himself of all his other options-little nicknames and pet names that all seemed to lack the bounds to describe his love and affection for you. Then he nodded a little.

“Alright, Mrs. Harrington.” He murmured before kissing his bride again.

 And again.

 And again.

That was the best moment of all, bar none. You would’ve given the whole wedding away, every good moment you had that night, just to live in that moment of sheer bliss again.

[cumonbucky]

Distance

Request: May I request one where you're insecure that Bucky still likes Natasha and will leave you for her and you start to distance yourself from him and it hurts him when you two barely talk anymore 🖤🖤

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: just watch out

A/N: I really need to up my game.

“That’s not gonna happen Y/N.” Wanda wraps her arm around you as the two of you walk down the hallway, making your way to the kitchen. “He’s head over heels for you! Everyone can see it.”

“You have to say that, you’re my best friend.” you roll your eyes. You turn right, entering the kitchen and see Bucky and Natasha laughing about something. Immediately, you become insecure.

“Y/N. C’mon.” Wanda pulls your arm, seeing as you had stopped moving once spotting Bucky and Nat. The brunette rummages through the fridge in search for food but much to her dismay, there was none. “Don’t tell me you guys ate all the left over take out.”

At this moment, Bucky and Natasha turn to both you and Wanda. “Oops.”

Wanda groans and places her head on the fridge door. “What kind of assholes do I live with?”

“I didn’t know that you two haven’t ate yet.” Bucky looks at you with pursed lips.

Yeah, that’s because you’re too busy spending time with Nat.

“Well now you know and I’m gonna starve.” Wanda responds. “Whatever, I’m just gonna order a pizza.”

She turns around, heading back to her room, leaving you with Natasha and Bucky. Taking a deep breath, you start making your way out of the kitchen.

“I’ll just head down to that small diner down the block.”

“Baby, wait.” you can hear Bucky say from behind you. “Let me take you.”

“You don’t have to, Buck, I can go by myself.” you shrug, continuing to walk to your room to slip on your shoes and grab some cash.

“I want to come. I wanna spend time with my girl.” he smiles and nudges you.

You and Bucky had been dating for about five months - nearly six. You had asked him to be your boyfriend which took a lot because you were so afraid of rejection but when he smiled and hugged you tight, saying ‘yes’ over and over again, you couldn’t have been more happy.

But the happiness you had was soon swept away and replaced with insecurity.

Bucky had always been close with Natasha, everyone knew that. They were like two peas on a pod. Best friends and at one point, even more. You knew from the start that you could never compete with Natasha. She’s the whole package. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Bucky left you to be with her again. That was always at the back of your mind, eating away at you. The never ending worry that Bucky might leave you for Natasha.

You put on your shoes and grab some money before meeting Bucky at the elevator. He smiles at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and placing a quick kiss on your forehead right before the doors open.

Your food arrived at your table but all you could do was pick at it while Bucky told you how he had a good time with Nat does god knows what. Suddenly, you weren’t very hungry.

The thought of him going back to Nat broke your heart. You really, really liked him but it seemed like he showed more interest in Nat than he ever did with you. You wanted to cry but not in front of Bucky.

“Speak of the devil.” he grinned, showing you his phone screen which displayed Natasha’s name. He swiped right and brought his phone up to his ear. “What’s up pumpkin?”

Of course he still calls her the nickname he used when they dated. With a sigh, you tell him that you’re going to use the bathroom and he nods before going back to his conversation with Nat. Those two are inseparable.

Upon entering the bathroom, you walk over to the sink and grip the sides of it, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“Stop being so damn insecure.” you tell yourself. “He wants to be with you.. Right?”

The corners of your mouth turn downwards. Right?

It had been nearly 2 weeks and you had put some distance between you and Bucky. It was for the better. You made sure to steer clear of him in the hallways and didn’t talk to him much if you were in the same room, sometimes even making lame excuses and leaving.

Today was no different.

“Hey, doll.” Bucky chimed, walking into the kitchen where Natasha, Tony and Sam were all sitting. You assumed he was talking to Natasha and paid no attention to him, instead, picking up your freshly made cup of coffee. “Baby? Hello, boyfriend right in front of you.” he lightly chuckled.

You look at him and let out a deep sigh before leaving the kitchen.

He frowned, watching you go before turning to the three who were sat at the table. “Why does she always do that?”

Tony and Sam look at each other and snort while Natasha only shrugs. Licking his lips, he goes to the one person who will give him the information he wants; Wanda.

Bucky makes his way to her room and starts knocking on it repeatedly. “Wanda, open up, it’s Bucky.”

It takes a moment but she opens the door. Her hair is everywhere and he watches as she plops down on her bed, face in the pillow. He must have woken her up.

“Hey Wanda, I need your help.”

She turns her head to the side, eyes still closed. “Can’t you wait one more hour to bug me?”

“No.”

Wanda groans. “What do you want?”

Bucky closes her door and takes a seat next to her bed, on the floor. “What’s going on with Y/N?”

Wanda’s eyes open immediately. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do, your her best friend.” he scoffed.

“I can’t tell you, she doesn’t want you to know.” she turns to lay on her side.

“Wanda, this is a life or death situation.” Bucky spoke and Wanda rolled her eyes. “Okay maybe not but still.. She’s my girlfriend and she’s been avoiding me for almost two weeks now. I don’t know what I did but I’m pretty sure you do so please tell me because it hurts to have her brush past me or make excuses to leave when we’re in the same room together. Is she.. Is this her way of breaking up with me?”

“You’re a complete idiot.” Wanda comments before sitting up. “It’s you and Nat.” Bucky gives her a confused look so she continues. “Y/N’s insecure. She thinks you’ll leave her for Nat sooner or later so she’s distancing herself from you.”

“What?!” the soldier exclaimed. “That’s insane, I only want to be with her, Nat and I are just friends.”

“You’ve gotta look at it from her point of view, Bucky. How would you feel if Y/N was friends with one of her ex’s and they always hung out and called each other pet names and all she talked about was him?”

“I wouldn’t like that.” he shook his head.

“Well that’s how she feels. She thinks you still want to be with Natasha. She’s insecure, Buck. She doesn’t think she has a chance next to Nat.” Wanda says which causes Bucky’s eyes to water.

How could you think like that? You’re the most important person to him. You made him happy. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He didn’t know that you felt this way and it made him sad.

“I gotta go.” he mumbled, standing up and walking out of Wanda’s room.

“You didn’t hear any of that from me!” she shouts before laying back on her bed.

Bucky walks over to your room, not even bothering to knock, he just walks in. You sat on your bed, cup in hand while you watched Revenge of the Bridesmaids but looked towards the door when it was opened. There stood Bucky. You put your cup on your nightstand.

“Bucky, what are you-”

He crawled over to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you down on your bed with him. You were shocked, to say the least. It wasn’t until a sob escaped his lips, that you spoke up.

“What’s wrong?”

Bucky pulled away from you a bit, tears streaming down his face. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt that way?”

You look at him, completely dumbfounded. “What are you talking about?”

“Me and Nat.” he cried. “Why didn’t you tell me you were scared that I’d leave you for Nat?”

You open your mouth to respond but he continues. “I’d never leave you for Nat - or anyone for that matter! I want to be with you Y/N, god damn it.”

“H-How do you know about that? Did Wanda tell you? That little-”

“How could you think that?” he wiped his tears away, only for them to come back.

You sigh. “Natasha’s so pretty, I just...” you trail off, sighing again.

“I wanted to be with you for so long, I was so damn happy when you asked me to be your boyfriend.” he sniffled, resting his head on your shoulder. “Me and Nat broke up for a reason. If I wanted to get back with her, I would’ve done so, but I haven’t and I never will because I want to be with you.”

You rest your cheek on top of his head.

“I want you not her. Never think any different, please.” he looked up at you with watery eyes and you cup his cheeks, planting a kiss on his lips.

“I won’t.” you say. “I’m sorry.”

“It hurts to know you think that way. Y/N you’re the most gorgeous girl I know and you make me so very happy. You should’ve talked to me about this instead of distancing yourself for two weeks.” Bucky muttered.

“I know, I’m sorry.” you sigh, closing your eyes. Bucky kisses the tip of your nose.

“Next time something’s bugging you, you come to me, don’t keep it bottled up inside.” you nod. “I missed spending time with you the past two weeks.” you open your eyes and he flashes you a small smile before pressing his lips to yours. “What are you watching?”

“Revenge of the Bridesmaids.” the two of you turn your head to the tv.

“Again?”

“I like this movie.”

Bucky chuckles. “I can tell.”

A/N: I didn’t really know how to end this. Also it’s 4:58 AM and I’m really tired so I hope you like this and goodnight... well morning I guess.

Tags:

@your-puddin @heismyhunter @jas94kullar @buchananbarnestrash @live-in-the-now10 @jcb2k16 @plumqueenbucky @thefandomplace @chocolatereignz @blueberry-pens @professionally-crazed @idk-something-amazing-i-guess @almondbuttercup @janetgenea @buckysmetallicstump @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @rvb-and-marvel-shit @ouatalways @winterboobaer @thyotakukimkim @hattnco @millaraysuyai @themercurialmadhatter @miss-jessi29 @snakesgoethe @helloitsgrc @welcometothecasmofsar @aboxinthestars @feelthemusicfuckwhatheyresaying @fandommaniacx @hatterripper31 @coffeeismylife28 @bunchofandoms @bobabucky @under-dah-sea

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Oichi and Katsuie!

Ultimate Ship Meme! || @sncwrisen || No longer accepting

General:

Rate the Ship -  Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPsHow long will they last? About 8 months, according to history.How quickly did/will they fall in love? Katsuie’s crush on Oichi began the moment he first saw her, and deepened into an obsession over several months. On the other hand, it’s pretty explicitly stated in SB4 that Oichi only romantically loves Nagamasa, so I think that she could only develop a more platonic sort of love towards Katsuie, at best.How was their first kiss? Sloppy and rushed, thanks to Katsuie. I doubt that he would’ve had any experience with kissing before he tried to kiss Oichi, so he’d suck at kissing. XD Also, he’d try to go for a kiss before either of them are ready, as bad as that is.

Wedding:

Who proposed? Katsuie, of course.Who is the best man/men? Probably only Sakon, if anyone even shows up. Katsuie doesn’t have any friends after all that he’s done to the Oda. XDWho is the bridesmaid(s)? Historically, Oichi has a younger sister (Oinu). In the games, Oichi also seems to know Nohime (her sister-in-law and Nobunaga’s wife). If Oichi needed additional bridesmaids, I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard for her to find some, because of how her own beauty and kindness attracts people, and because she can use her brother’s connections if necessary.Who did the most planning? Katsuie.Who stressed the most? Katsuie, probably because of all the planning and permissions he would need to get from people within the Oda clan. Oichi would probably also be stressed but in a different way, though, because she’d be wondering whether marrying another man would be wrong in Nagamasa’s eyes. She’d eventually make her peace with it, though, since she can’t stand the thought of being alone forever.How fancy was the ceremony? Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? I’d put Azai Nagamasa, but…this wedding would only happen if he’s already dead. XD

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? None. Historically, they spent too little time together for that sort of thing to happen. XDHow many children will they adopt? Historically speaking, Katsuie adopts Oichi’s three daughters, and as a couple they adopt two of Katsuie’s sons. I’d imagine that Katsuie would initially be pretty cold and aloof around the daughters (since they’re Nagamasa’s daughters by blood), but eventually he’d warm up to them because 1) they’re Oichi’s daughters by blood, too, 2) raising them would make his dream of raising children with Oichi come true, and 3) they’re probably cute kids, and he couldn’t bring himself to hate cute kids forever. XDWho gets stuck with the most diapers? Neither. Historically, Oichi’s youngest daughter would’ve been 8 or 9 already by the time that they married, and Katsuie’s sons were probably adults already, I think ?Who is the stricter parent? Katsuie. I’d imagine that Oichi is pretty lax.Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? Katsuie.Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? Neither, since that’d be part of their servants’ duties.Who is the more loved parent? Oichi, probably because Katsuie would be the main one being strict and laying down the law in their household.Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Both. Katsuie would probably take a more active role in the meetings, though, while Oichi would be more likely to stand back and watch what’s going on.Who cried the most at graduation? Katsuie, but I’d imagine that Oichi would cry a lot, too. XDWho is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? Oichi. Katsuie would also try to bail them out, but Oichi has more connections (through Nobunaga).

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? Neither, because they have servants. If something came up and the servants weren’t around, though, then Katsuie would take over. Who is the most picky in their food choice? Oichi, since she’s more sheltered and has probably lived a wealthy lifestyle in a castle for most of her life. Katsuie has probably gone to battlefields / lived in military camps more often, so he’s had to make do with limited / gross / spoiled / etc. food more often.Who does the grocery shopping? Neither, because they have servants. If something came up and the servants weren’t around, though, then Katsuie would take over. In his mind, Oichi’s too much of a goddess to be troubled by mundane tasks such as grocery shopping. XDHow often do they bake desserts? At least once a week, per Oichi’s request.Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? Both are salad eaters.Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? Katsuie. I wouldn’t be surprised if Oichi ends up forgetting when their anniversary is… XDWho is more likely to suggest going out? Katsuie, although they’re both the sort of people who’d like to stay at home.Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? Oichi. Since she’s part of wealthy family and has had servants attend to her for most of her life, she probably never really learned how to cook.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? Katsuie.Who is really against chores? Oichi.Who cleans up after the pets? Katsuie. In his mind, Oichi’s too much of a goddess to be troubled by mundane tasks such as cleaning up after pets, either. XD Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? Oichi, using her Dark Hands. XDWho stresses the most when guests are coming over? Oichi, since she’s seen many guests who were unfriendly and / or plotting behind her brother’s back because they didn’t like him, and also because she’s just shy. Katsuie’s probably also stressed, though. Both of them seem to be introverts, so I doubt that either of them would be good at dealing with other people.Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? Katsuie.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? Oichi.Who takes the dog out for a walk? Oichi, but she only does it more often because Katsuie’s samurai duties cause him to leave the house a lot. When he’s at home, they’d walk the dog together, or Katsuie would walk the dog more.How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? Not often. For more minor holidays, they probably won’t decorate at all.What are their goals for the relationship? Katsuie’s main goal with Oichi was to marry her, so after that happens, he’d probably be at a loss as to what his next goal will be. Maybe just to stay married to her ? XD As for Oichi, she’d probably only choose him if Nagamasa died (and if she still kept some amount of her sanity afterwards), and she’d choose Katsuie simply because she hates being alone and believes that she can’t go on in life all by herself. Each of them would seek comfort and some level of intimacy from the other, too, I think.Who is most likely to sleep till noon? Oichi. Katsuie tends to wake up early in the morning.Who plays the most pranks? Neither. Katsuie is too serious of a person to even consider pranking people, and Oichi wouldn’t want to prank anyone because she’d be afraid of accidentally hurting them.