#just stop and ask yourself why the hell would either of them give a damn about their gay ex boyfriends | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vunblr · 2 months ago

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Toy Soldier (part 5)

Bit by bit, torn apart. We never win, but the battle wages on for toy soldiers.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Fluff. Smut. Dark Content: Sexual Assault Wounds (Bucky). Depictions of Physical Wounds. Psychological Trauma. Canon-Typical Violence. Mentions and depictions of Non-Con (both characters as victims).

Summary: She had been the tool Hydra used to keep him operational; he, the weapon manipulated by their tendrils to execute their ambitions. Years after breaking free, fate Sam Wilson brings them together once more. Now, they must navigate the challenges of forging a connection beyond the twisted dynamic that once bound them in the past.

Word Count: 7.3k

Previous Chapter

The next day, she messaged Sam, asking if he could stop by her house before the briefing. His reply came quickly, surprised but agreeable, suggesting a time two hours before the meeting. When the knock finally came, she took a deep breath, bracing herself for whatever reaction he might have.

She opened the door to his familiar, easy smile, but the knot in her stomach didn’t ease. “Hey,” he greeted casually, stepping inside when she gestured for him to come in. “This feels serious. What’s up?”

She led him to the couch, motioning for him to sit. Her palms were clammy, and her fingers twitched slightly as she sat across from him. “It is,” she admitted, “And... I need you to hear me out before you say anything.”

That wiped the smile from his face. Sam leaned forward and clasped his hands loosely between his knees. “Okay. I’m listening.”

She inhaled deeply, and then, she started. From her life before Hydra -her simple, ordinary life in the 60s- to the day everything changed. The kidnapping. The endless, suffocating years as a prisoner, a tool. Her voice faltered as she described the barest surface of what she’d endured and what she’d been forced to do regarding the Winter Soldier. She tried to keep the focus on herself, omitting the details that might betray Bucky’s privacy, but it was impossible to completely separate their pasts.

Sam listened without interrupting, his expression shifted with every new revelation: concern, disbelief, pity, before being replaced with something softer. Compassion.

When she finished, she let out a shuddering breath, slumping her shoulders. “I’m sorry I never told you anything about... this. For giving you my manufactured past. For lying to you about who I am.”

He shook his head immediately. “Don’t apologize for that. It’s your story, and it’s yours to share whenever you’re ready. Or not at all. I get why you didn’t say anything. Hell, I can even understand why the government kept it locked up.” His gaze softened, leaning back slightly. “But it doesn’t change a damn thing. I never doubted our friendship. Not for a second.”

Relief bloomed in her chest at his words. She managed a small smile, twisting her fingers nervously in her lap. “Thank you, Sammy”.

Sam nodded, and then his expression grew thoughtful. “So... that’s why Bucky knew you couldn’t heal yourself?”

“Yeah.” She gave a short, almost bitter laugh. “The information was never given by Hydra to him, but there were... moments. Times when he saw me.” Her eyes drifted downward. “And I guess he connected the dots. If I could heal myself, why would I walk around for days with a bruised lip, or limping?”

Sam exhaled slowly, his brow furrowing. “Damn.”

She nodded, tightening her hands together. “Yeah.”

“And... I didn’t tell you this either,” she hesitated, twisting her fingers in her lap. “Bucky and I... we’ve been seeing each other. After Poland.”

Sam’s brow quirked, a small, curious smile tugging at his lips. “Oh?”

She exhaled, searching for the right words. “Just... reconnecting. Or connecting. I don’t know exactly what to call it yet. Our relationship -if you can even call it that- back then didn’t precisely involve normal conversation over coffee.”

He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms. “So, the Winter Sulkier talks to you over coffee?”

That drew a chuckle from her lips, lightening the tension in the air. “Yeah. I mean, he’s more of a listener most of the time, but yeah, he talks.”

Sam’s smile softened as he observed her, but she dropped her gaze to her hands again, and her expression turned more serious. “Thing is... he was here yesterday when you called me about the mission. And when I mentioned Argentina and a large crew heading there...” She paused, tightening her fingers together. “He got all worked up. I think he intuits there’s something to do with them.”

Sam’s expression darkened, and his easy demeanor faded. He shook his head slowly, dropping his gaze to the floor. “He isn’t wrong.”

Her chest tightened at the confirmation, but she continued. “He left immediately after that. Told me to talk to you about... us.” She hesitated, then added, “And, that he’s coming.”

Sam let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand down his face. “Of course he did.”

“I tried to tell him it wasn’t his decision to make,” she said quickly, “But…”

“-there’s no stopping him,” Sam finished with a faint shake of his head, a flicker of exasperation in his tone. “Yeah, I know.”

----

Sam drove them to the briefing at the DHS Strategic Operations Center, a heavily-secured government facility that handled covert international assignments. The building loomed large, with its sleek gray façade and high-security checkpoints manned by armed guards.

To her surprise -or not-, when they entered the briefing room, Bucky was already there, leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed. He looked calm, but the tension in his posture told her otherwise.

Sam quirked a brow at him, gesturing vaguely toward the entrance. “How the hell did you get in here?”

Bucky just stared at him in response, with an unreadable expression.

“Seriously, man,” Sam pressed, muttering something under his breath, shaking his head as he took a seat. She, on the other hand, couldn’t help but smile faintly at him, though the knot of worry in her stomach hadn’t eased.

The room began to fill with agents and operatives, and a few heads turned toward Bucky, with flashing recognition across their faces. It was clear that having both the Winter Soldier and the Falcon in the operation was a major bonus for the mission and a point of fascination for everyone in the room.

She slid into a chair beside Sam, sneaking a glance at Bucky, who had claimed a spot near the corner of the table. He caught her eye briefly, and for a moment, something unspoken passed between them.

“Looks like the government’s thrilled to have their star players,” she murmured under her breath to Sam.

----

The room fell silent as the operation leader stood at the head of the table, pointing to a digital map of Ushuaia Province projected on the wall. “As suspected, there’s an active Hydra facility in the region. Thanks to intel provided by Argentina’s military forces, we’ve identified its exact location. It’s heavily fortified, with multiple levels of security and a significant number of personnel. Resistance is expected to be strong, and casualties are a possibility.”

The words hung heavy and foreboding between the crew.

“As we continue,” the leader said, turning toward her, “your role is crucial. Due to the expected resistance, we need you on the field, embedded with a group of agents. Your abilities may be needed in the heat of the fight. Even some casualties won’t be avoidable, your presence could make the difference between life and death for many of our operatives.”

Bucky’s body tensed immediately, snapping his sharp gaze to the leader. He didn’t wait to be addressed, didn’t wait for permission to speak. “No,” he said firmly, his voice cut through the room like a blade. “I don’t agree.”

The leader’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Excuse me?”

Bucky straightened from his spot, squaring his broad shoulders. “Sending her into a live combat zone? With Hydra? It’s a mistake. She doesn’t belong on the front lines, she belongs somewhere safe. She can work from a plane or a secure location if you need her. Putting her directly in danger is reckless.”

She could feel the weight of his words pressing against her like a physical force, but her focus was on the leader, not him.

“Barnes,” the leader started, “with all due respect, this isn’t your call-”

“No, but it’s common sense,” Bucky cut in, hardening his voice. “If things go south, she’s the one they’ll target first. Do you really think they wouldn’t recognize her? That they wouldn’t know what she can do and what she’s worth to them?”

Her heart clenched at the words, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she stood, scraping her chair softly against the floor as she rose to her feet.

“Enough,” she said sharply, interrupting him.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, and his gaze snapped to her, but she didn’t look at him. Her eyes were locked on the operation leader, unwavering and resolute.

“I’m in,” she said firmly.

“You don’t-” Bucky’s voice carried a mix of frustration and concern, but she turned to him before he could say more.

“I said I’m in, Bucky,” she repeated, in a softer tone this time but no less determined. “This is my choice.”

The room was silent again, the tension thick in the air as the leader gave her a small nod. “Good. Then we’ll move forward as planned.”

Bucky’s hands flexed into fists at his sides, but he said nothing more. She could feel his eyes on her, the weight of his disapproval and concern, but she didn’t falter.

This was her fight too. And she wouldn’t let anyone -not even him- take that from her.

The operation leader continued detailing the roles while pointing to the screen. “Barnes, your job is to breach and clear one of the facility’s entrances. You’ll be working with a tactical unit to infiltrate and eliminate the immediate threats on the perimeter.”

Bucky crossed his arms, flexing a muscle in his jaw. “I’ll go with her team.”

The room collectively turned to look at him, as the team leader narrowed his eyes in displeasure. “That’s not your assignment.”

“Well, I’m making it mine,” Bucky said, sharp and unwavering.

Sam let out a low scoff, raising a brow at his partner. “You’re just great at following orders.”

Bucky shot him a sidelong glare but ignored the jab, turning back his attention to the leader. “Let’s be honest,” he said, his tone bordering on cocky. “I’m the best asset you’ve got going in there. If she’s on the field, it makes sense for me to stay close. She makes sure I keep going, and I’m the one who can get her out in one piece.”

The leader leaned forward slightly, clearly distressed by the audacity. His hands fell flat on the table. “You’re overestimating your authority here, Barnes. This isn’t a solo mission.”

“I’m not saying it is,” Bucky replied “But if something goes wrong, I’d rather she have me at her back than anyone else.”

Another agent, seated further down the table, cleared their throat. “With all due respect, Sergeant Barnes, you’re probably not the one who’d need her help. You’re a super soldier. You’ve got advanced healing, stamina, and the works. If she’s in the field, she’ll be more useful to the non-enhanced units who’ll be taking the brunt of the fight.”

Bucky opened his mouth to argue but stopped short. He knew she was right, as much as he hated to admit it. He didn’t need her assistance. He wanted her nearby for reasons that had nothing to do with logic and everything to do with the protectiveness that burned in his chest.

His jaw tightened again, but he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, forcing himself to back down. “Fine,” he muttered, though the word sounded like it was dragged out of him.

The operation leader’s gaze lingered on Bucky for a moment longer before he turned back to the room. “Then it’s settled. Everyone knows their roles. We leave in three days. Dismissed.”

As chairs scraped and the room began to clear, Sam caught up to Bucky near the door. “So, what’s the plan now, guard dog? Gonna give her a tracking device or a leash?”

Bucky shot him a look that could kill. “Not now.”

Sam grinned, unbothered. “Just saying, man. You’re not as subtle as you think.”

Bucky ignored him, drifting his gaze to where she stood by the table, gathering her things. She glanced up, catching his eye, and offered a small, reassuring smile.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. He might not be able to stay by her side during the mission, but one way or another, he’d make sure she came out of it safe. Even if it killed him.

----

They didn’t see each other again until they boarded the plane. She spotted him immediately, seated at the far side of the hold, inspecting one of his many weapons with mechanical precision.

Bucky was fully geared up, every inch of him screaming Winter Soldier in a way that made her chest tighten uncomfortably. His tactical suit, dark and imposing, seemed like it was made to swallow him whole, to erase every ounce of humanity she knew was there. Knives, pistols, ammo, -there were more weapons strapped to him than she thought possible-, and Sam, seated nearby, muttered under his breath as he caught sight of him.

“Jesus, Buck,” he quipped, leaning back in his seat with an incredulous look. “Where do you keep all that? Got a secret pocket dimension you haven’t told us about?”

Bucky didn’t answer. He didn’t even glance up, focused on the rifle in his hands as he loaded it with a meticulousness that bordered on obsession.

She hesitated before sitting down, diagonal to his, close enough to see the taut lines of his jaw and the cold set of his features. He was somewhere else entirely, locked inside his head in a way that made her stomach twist.

Her fingers tapped lightly on her knee as she debated. Eventually, she mustered the courage to try and break through the wall he had so obviously put up. “Bucky,” she started softly, testing the waters.

He didn’t look at her. “What?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he said curtly and dismissive.

She tried again, leaning forward slightly, lacing her tone with a touch of warmth this time. “You’ve been quiet since the briefing. I just... wanted to check in.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said flatly. He finally looked up, but it was brief, just a glance before he turned back to the rifle.

She bit the inside of her cheek, and the pang of melancholy deepened. He was shutting her out, retreating into himself in a way that felt impenetrable. She wanted to say something more, to push through the wall he’d built around himself, but every clipped answer was like a door slammed in her face.

Eventually, she leaned back in her seat, slumping her shoulders slightly. Sam, catching the shift in her demeanor, leaned over and nudged her gently. “You good?”

She gave him a tight smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. Just... tired.”

Sam didn’t press further, but his gaze flicked between her and Bucky, knitting his brows together in thought.

The hours of the flight passed in uncomfortable silence. She stopped trying to talk to Bucky, resigning herself to the fact that he wasn’t in a place to let her in. Instead, she found herself leaning on Sam, who kept the mood light with his casual banter and stories, though she knew he could see the strain on her face.

----

After 22 long hours of flight, the group finally arrived at Ushuaia, skipping any rest stops and heading straight to the location marked on the map as the Hydra facility. The biting -7°C temperature hit them the moment they stepped off the plane, but no one said a word. Adrenaline and focus were locked firmly on the upcoming assault.

As the team deployed, spreading out to take their positions, she adjusted the straps of her gear, ready to follow her assigned group, when she felt a hand wrap around her forearm, halting her steps.

It was Bucky.

Before she could say a word, he gently tugged her closer, his steel-blue eyes piercing through the dim light of the icy morning. Without hesitation, he dipped his head, resting his forehead lightly against hers. The gesture was intimate in a way that caught her completely off guard.

“Stay safe, doll,” he murmured, barely audible over the wind. His other hand slid to her lower back, a solid and steadying touch that sent warmth spreading through her chest despite the freezing air. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, it felt like time had paused around them.

Before she could respond, he pulled back, slipping his hand from her back as he released her. The touch lingered like an imprint on her skin, a phantom sensation she couldn’t shake.

He gave her a small, firm nod, and then turned, walking away to take his position. She stood frozen for a moment, her heart racing and her thoughts spinning in a blur. She didn’t notice the tiny tracker he’d deftly pressed onto the back of her jacket, concealed in one of the seams.

She exhaled deeply, shaking her head as she regrouped with her team. It was only after they began their cautious advance toward the Hydra’s den that she realized she hadn’t said anything back.

----

Bucky's moves were methodical and relentless, bordering on terrifying. His rifle barked sharp bursts of gunfire as his entry key. The initial resistance barely had time to register what hit them before he had breached their defenses with precise and purposeful shots, clearing the way with deadly efficiency. Once inside, the rifle was slung across his back, and he transitioned to pistols, twin bursts of fire that cut through the dimly lit hallways.

When a close-range ambush came at them, he didn’t falter. A knife was in his hand before the first attacker could barely move, and the blade moved in a blur as he parried, slashed, and dropped him in seconds. His other hand went for another approaching assailant, and the dull thud of his fist meeting flesh sickly reverberated down the hallway. The third guy went down with a savage elbow strike to the jaw, that sent the man crumpling against the wall.

The facility was a maze, and he navigated it with an almost preternatural awareness, dispatching any Hydra remnants that dared to cross his path.

Behind him, his team could barely keep up. “Does he even need us?” one of them muttered under their breath, clutching their assault gun tightly as they followed, watching Bucky tear through Hydra’s defenses like a one-man wrecking crew. They focused on providing cover and securing the areas he left in his wake, though it felt almost redundant.

He wasn’t reckless, he was purposeful. Every move was efficient, calculated like a finely tuned machine operating at full capacity. And beneath that precision, was a driving force, a singular thought that fueled him: finish this, finish it fast, get to her.

He turned a corner into a wider room where a group of agents had set up a defensive line. Their gunfire erupted the moment they saw him, but he was already moving. His body twisted as he sprinted toward them, weaving through the barrage with inhuman speed. A flash grenade from his belt bought him the split second he needed to close the distance. When the deafening pop and blinding light cleared, he was in the middle of their formation.

One went down with a knife to the gut, another with a pistol shot to the temple. The third tried to grapple him, only to be met with a swift blow from his vibranium arm that sent him sprawling. Bucky didn’t stop. His fists drove into ribs and jaws, his knives carving through the last line of resistance like it was nothing. Blood splattered onto the cold floors, and the once-deafening room fell silent except for his steady breathing.

The radio on his team leader crackled. “Barnes, status?”

“Clear,” he grunted, wiping the blade of his knife on his sleeve and sheathing it in one fluid motion. His team moved in behind him, sweeping the room as they murmured amongst themselves about the inhuman force of his assault.

He barely heard them. His mind was already elsewhere. His heart was pounding, not from exertion, but from the worry that ate away at him. The sooner his end of the mission was done, the sooner he could ensure she was safe.

----

As Bucky cleared the last room in his assigned sector, he took a final sweep, ensuring no hidden threats remained. The bodies left in his wake weren’t his concern, only the safety of his team, and more importantly, her. So he turned around and started walking away.

He moved like a shadow through the corridors, silent and methodical, operating on pure instinct. The tracker he’d slipped into her clothes pulsed steadily on his HUD, leading him through the labyrinth of sterile hallways and flickering overhead lights. Hydra never changed, their bases were practically carbon copies, and he used that to his advantage, cutting through shortcuts only an old ghost like him would know.

Gunfire crackled in the distance, shouts echoing through the steel walls, but none of it mattered to him.

He picked up the pace as he neared her location, tightening his grip around the pistol in his flesh hand, his vibranium fingers twitching in anticipation. Then, finally, he reached her sector.

The sight before him sent a cold fury ripping through his chest.

The fight was still ongoing and it was clear her team was barely holding on. Some were down, some wounded, and the rest were outnumbered. But Bucky’s eyes only locked onto one thing: the asset trying to restrain her.

She was struggling. He could see the way her limbs lagged just a second too slow, the way her stance wavered ever so slightly, she was exhausted. She’d burned herself out healing the others, and now they were trying to take her.

The bastard restraining her was big, armored, and clearly enhanced. Bucky already knew the type, one of Hydra’s modern knockoff attempts at recreating him. The man had his arm locked around her middle, wrestling to subdue her, while his other hand reached for a syringe strapped to his vest.

Bucky didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate.

His pistol fired once. Clean, direct. The bullet punched through the asset’s wrist, making him snarl and drop the syringe before he could use it.

Before the man could react, Bucky was already on him.

The Winter Soldier resurfaced with brutal efficiency. He grabbed the man by the vest and threw him off her like a ragdoll, sending him crashing into a nearby crate. The asset barely had time to groan before Bucky was on him again, landing a punishing strike to the ribs, then another to the jaw.

The bastard recovered quickly, swinging at Bucky’s head, but he dodged with ease, catching the incoming arm and twisting sharply. The asset howled, but Bucky silenced him with a savage punch that sent him sprawling.

Not enough. Not nearly enough.

He didn’t stop until the man stopped moving.

When he finally turned, he found her staring at him, breathing hard. Her hair was disheveled, her face marked with sweat and dirt, but she was alive.

Still his.

High on adrenaline, Bucky turned toward the dantesque scene unfolding around him. Her team was struggling, pinned down by the remaining opposition, outnumbered and exhausted.

So he moved.

The first man barely had time to register his presence before Bucky’s knife found his ribs, twisting with brutal precision. The second one lunged at him, and Bucky let him, sidestepping at the last second and slamming his elbow into the man's throat, crushing his windpipe. They kept coming but the room was cleared in minutes. Efficient. Lethal. Over.

His feet carried him forward before his brain even fully registered it, his hands reaching for her the second he was close enough. He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her tightly, his chest rising and falling against hers as he tried to steady himself.

His face found the crook of her neck, and he inhaled deeply, calming himself with her scent. She was real, she was safe.

She was trembling, whether from exhaustion or leftover adrenaline, he didn’t know. Didn’t care. He just held her tighter, curling his fingers into the fabric of her tactical gear, pressing her against him like he could shield her from everything.

He didn’t speak. He just held on, waiting for his heart to stop hammering, for the instinct to fight, to kill, to protect, to settle into something quieter.

He didn’t let go. Not yet. Not for a long while.

----

She let him hold on, basking in his unrelenting grip. But as the minutes stretched, something felt wrong in her chest, a creeping worry she couldn’t shake.

“Bucky,” she breathed against his ear, trying to pull back just enough to see his face.

He didn’t answer.

Her hands skimmed over his back, searching for wounds, for anything out of place. “Bucky, are you hurt? Let me see you.”

Nothing. No response. If anything, his arms locked tighter around her.

She leaned back slightly, shifting her hands to his face, ready to insist -look at me, talk to me- but then she saw it.

The empty stare. The idle, blank eyes she knew too well.

Her stomach dropped.

Her fingers threaded into his hair, gentle but firm. She inhaled deeply before trying. “Soldat?”

A barely-there shudder ran through his body. His grip twitched, tightening before loosening just the slightest bit.

She swallowed hard. She knew exactly where he was, adrift in the space between past and present, somewhere dark, somewhere cold. She cupped his face, sweeping her thumbs over the sharp lines of his cheekbones. “Listen, everything is fine now. We are safe, you did good. You can rest.”

Her breath hitched as his grip slipped down and tightened around her thighs, and the world tilted violently as he hoisted her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.

“Soldat-” she started, but he moved with single-minded purpose, boots echoing heavily against the bloodstained floor as he strode down the corridor.

The others tried to move after them, with evident concern. “Stand down,” she called over her shoulder, her voice firmer than she felt. “Don’t- don’t interfere.” Because if they do…

They hesitated, but obeyed, exchanging wary glances as the two disappeared around a corner.

“Soldat,” she tried again. “Put me down. I’m fine. Where are we going?”

No answer. Not even a flicker of recognition. His grip remained firm, arms locked around her legs, his vibranium hand pressing against the small of her back to keep her steady.

The hallways blurred past in a dizzying, all-too-familiar pattern. He knew where he was going. Of course he did. Hydra never changed their layouts, never altered their twisted efficiency.

And then he stopped. A metal door loomed ahead, slightly ajar, the faded remnants of a red cross still painted on its surface.

The infirmary.

Before she could speak, he shoved the door open with his shoulder and stepped inside. She staggered slightly as he set her down “What are you-“

But he wasn’t listening. Not really. He pressed his back against the door, sliding down until he sat on the cold floor with one bent knee and the other stretched out. His head tilted back against the cold metal with a dull thud, and his eyes flicked shut for just a second before snapping open again. His chest rose and fell in deep, measured breaths. His gaze landed unfocused somewhere in the distance.

She took a cautious step forward, lowering her voice. “Soldat?”

His fingers twitched.

The only thing she could think to do was play along. Her pulse hammered in her throat, but she kept her expression carefully neutral. First, she pressed a hand to her comm, switching to Sam’s channel. Keeping a steady voice, she whispered, “Sammy, I’m fine. My side of the facility is clear, but there’s… a complication with Bucky. My teammates will fill you in. Just don’t come looking for us. Please. I need you to make them understand.”

There was a long pause, before Sam’s voice finally came through the crackle of static, lower, graver than usual. “…You sure about this?”

Her gaze flicked back to Soldat, watching the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, coiled like a spring. She swallowed hard. “Yes. Let me handle it.”

Another pause. Then, a resigned sigh. “Alright. But if you need backup-”

“I’ll let you know.” She shut off the comm before he could argue, pushing the outside world aside.

----

She clasped her hands in front of her, standing straighter, adopting the crisp authority she’d seen Hydra’s handlers use a thousand times before.

“I need a mission report.”

His fingers twitched again. His gaze flickered -just slightly- but it stayed distant, unfocused, locked somewhere behind her rather than on her.

A long beat of silence.

Her stomach clenched.

She took another step closer. “Soldat,” she repeated, keeping her tone firm but even. “Mission report. Now.”

His jaw worked, and a slow inhale expanded his chest.

“…Facility neutralized.” The words came rough and automatic, like a reflex. His voice was lower than usual, mechanical, like the syllables were pulled from his throat against his will. “Threats eliminated.”

She swallowed. “And my status?”

His breath stuttered slightly. His fingers flexed, curling into loose fists before releasing.

“Secure,” he said after a pause.

She exhaled quietly, steadying herself.

Her mind raced for the next step. She couldn’t just order him out of this. She needed to guide him back. She took a slow breath, crouching down to his level, careful not to make any sudden movements. “Good,” she murmured. “So… mission’s over now, right?”

Another twitch. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

She hesitated, then reached forward, brushing featherily his vibranium knuckles. No sudden moves. No pressure. “Remember what happens when a mission is over? You let me check on you and I get you all better.”

He hesitated. His brows knitted together as though sifting through fragmented, conflicting commands buried deep in his mind. But then, after a long, tense beat, he gave a single, curt nod.

A breath she hadn’t realized she was holding slipped from her lips.

“You did good,” she said again, keeping a reassuring voice. “Go sit on the stretcher and let me see you.”

He stood immediately at her command, a well-oiled machine running on deeply ingrained instinct. With precise, practiced movements, he removed his rifle, his sidearm, and every knife tucked into his gear. Each weapon clattered softly onto the nearby tray, in a quiet, chilling symphony of steel.

Then, without hesitation, he stripped away his tactical vest, shrugging out of it like armor no longer needed. His Henley followed, baring his torso under the harsh, sterile light of the infirmary. His skin was streaked with sweat and blood. The deep, ugly wounds carved into him were the only indication that he wasn’t invincible.

He sat on the stretcher with squared shoulders and rested his hands on his thighs as he stared ahead. Silent. Waiting.

Her breath hitched when she saw the extent of the damage. Two large-caliber bullet wounds, one grazing his ribs, the other embedded deeper near his shoulder. A deep stab wound on his side, red and angry. The blood had slowed to a sluggish trickle, but the damage was undeniable.

She inhaled heavily, steeling herself, knowing she was running on fumes. She had drained so much of herself in the fight, trying to keep others alive, trying to be useful. But she couldn't stop now. Not when he was in front of her, hurt because of her.

Her hands hovered over the worst wound, shaking slightly before she forced them to steady. Focus. Do what you have to.

But as she pressed her glowing fingers to his skin, and the warmth of her power seeped into his body, another weight settled over her. Guilt.

He came here because of her.

He got hurt because of her.

And worst of all… his mind was slipping, because of her. Regressing into something she wasn’t sure she could pull him back from. She choked on a sob, and her vision blurred as she fought to keep her hands steady, mending his torn flesh.

The sound made his jaw tick, and something shifted in his expression. Slowly, he turned his head to her, knitting his brows together as he took in the sight of her tear-streaked face. His gaze flickered toward the door -searching, assessing-before settling back on her.

The hesitation flickered in his usually unwavering demeanor. Then, with a slow movement, he lifted his flesh hand and cupped her cheek.

“Why?” he rasped, his voice was rough, uncertain.

That made her sob harder, but she didn’t stop mending him. She leaned into his palm, pressing her cheek against the warmth of his hand as she sniffled, trying to regain control of herself.

“S-sorry,” she managed, her voice unsteady.

“You are always sorry,” he countered, in a neutral, almost observational tone.

Something about the way he said it made her pause. It rang a bell. The Soldat never spoke to her before. Not when they dragged him into the med bay, not when she pleaded with him to respond in those stolen moments of quiet, not when she whispered apologies he couldn’t acknowledge.

But this wasn’t Bucky either, not completely. This was a fractured version of him, a Soldat pulled from the depths of his mind, not the same hollow shell she remembered. He was speaking to her, processing things in a way he never had before. How much of him was in there? How much did he understand?

“It seems so,” she conceded, in barely above a whisper, more to herself than to him.

He studied her, tilting his head slightly, the way he used to when something puzzled him. “You should stop before the handlers come in here,” he said, not harshly, but matter-of-factly, as though it was the most natural conclusion.

Her heart clenched. His mind was caught in the past, in a time when her presence at his side had always been followed by pain, by orders, by unseen eyes watching their every move.

She forced a small, steady breath, keeping her hands moving as she knitted his skin back together. “There are no… handlers here,” she said softly, keeping her tone careful, controlled.

His brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t argue. His thumb brushed absently over her cheek, like he was still trying to place her, to make sense of the moment.

She swallowed hard. “Do you know where you are?”

He blinked, and his eyes flickered toward the corners of the room as if searching for cameras, for listening ears. His jaw clenched, and when he spoke, his voice was quieter, like he was telling her a secret.

“I know I was sent to retrieve you,” he admitted. “You are the one who fixes me. Always do.” A pause. “You shouldn’t be talking to me. I know what happens to you every time you talk."

Her throat closed, and suddenly, it felt impossible to breathe. A sharp twist of nausea coiled in her stomach, memories slamming with brutal force. Her hands trembled slightly where they pressed against his wound. “No one is going to come,” she whispered.

His brow twitched. His head tilted slightly, and his eyes scanned hers, as if searching for something, truth, deception, an explanation that made sense in the fractured landscape of his mind.

“They always do,” he said again, quieter.

She swallowed hard and lifted a trembling hand, resting it lightly against his jaw. His skin was warm beneath her fingertips. “Not this time, radnój,” she murmured.

His breath stilled.

His flesh hand, still cradling her cheek, stiffened slightly before his grip loosened as if he wasn’t sure whether to hold on or let go.

The endearment shocked him. That word had never been meant for him. He had heard it before but never directed it at him. His fingers flexed uncertainly against her cheek. She always had spoken to him before -soothing words in hushed tones, quiet reassurances when no one was listening- but never this.

His brow creased, and his gaze searched hers as though trying to make sense of it. “You don’t-” The words caught on his lips, and he shook his head slightly. “You shouldn’t.”

She exhaled shakily, brushing her thumb over his jaw in soft defiance. “I do.”

A flicker of hesitation crossed his features. Soldat did not hesitate. But something about her -about this- was pulling him somewhere he didn’t understand.

“…Why?” he finally rasped, in a quiet, rougher tone.

His eyes searched hers, as a storm of confusion and something else swirled in them. His hand still hovered near her face, as if caught between instinct and reason.

“Did I overstep?” she deflected softly.

His gaze dropped, and the furrow between his brows deepened. “No,” he mumbled after a long pause, almost contemplative. “I just don’t… understand.” His brows drew together further, and his expression was caught somewhere between confusion and something deeper, something close to longing, buried under years of conditioning.

She took a slow breath, before carefully asking, "Is it okay to hug you?"

She and Bucky hugged a lot, usually with him being the one to start the embrace. But this man in front of her was not entirely him, not yet. And she wasn’t sure if Soldat would welcome such physical contact.

He blinked at her, and the hand in his thigh tightened briefly before loosening again. His brow creased in thought, like he was trying to decipher a foreign language. Hugging. That wasn’t something that belonged in his world. Contact had always been a means to an end: restraint, punishment, control. Not this.

She waited, patient and open, making no move to force it. Just offering.

Finally, after a long beat of silence, he gave the smallest nod.

Carefully, she leaned in, moving slowly, telegraphing every motion as she wrapped her arms around him. He tensed at first, but she didn’t pull away. She just held on, warm and calm, resting her cheek lightly in the top of his head.

His breath shuddered out of him, and after another beat of hesitation, his metal arm came up around her. Not crushing, not desperate, just holding her.

It was different from Bucky’s embraces. Bucky clung, seeking comfort he didn’t know how to ask for. But Soldat? This was uncharted ground. He wasn’t seeking, he was discovering. Testing the weight of the contact. Trying to understand why something so simple could feel so foreign.

She squeezed him just a little, in silent reassurance. “See?” she murmured. “Safe.”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t let go either.

For a long moment, they stayed like that, wrapped in silence. She felt his chest rise and fall in measured breaths, as if he was trying to calibrate the sensation of being held. His fingers twitched slightly where they rested against her back, flexing as if testing their own freedom to move.

She exhaled softly, rubbing slow, deliberate circles against his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, so much of it, always there, always braced for the next order. But no command came this time. No mission awaited.

“You can let go if you want,” she whispered, though she made no move to pull away. “But you don’t have to.”

His grip tightened, just barely. A silent answer.

Instead, he tilted his head slightly, just enough for his forehead to ghost against her temple. The breath he released was deep and measured, like he was recalibrating himself against her presence.

She closed her eyes. This was Bucky, somewhere underneath, even if his mind was still tangled in old wires. And if she had to be his tether back to himself, she would be.

“I’m here,” she murmured, not expecting a response.

But after a moment, barely audible, he rasped, “…I know.”

She leaned in just a fraction more, tilting her head so their foreheads pressed together, brushing her nose against his. A barely-there touch, light as a whisper. He was so still, caught somewhere between the past and the present, between instinct and something softer. His vibranium hand flexed at her waist. She whispered his name. Not Soldat, not a title, just his name. A soft reminder. His grip on her tightened, slightly curling his fingers into the fabric of her clothes. His breath became uneven and shallow. “I know,” he murmured again, in a rough, almost pained tone. He didn’t let go. And neither did she.

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, wide and uncertain. The flickering light overhead cast shadows over his face, deepening the exhaustion etched into his features.

“I need to keep taking care of those wounds, hm?” she murmured softly, gentle as the touch she brushed along his back.

“Later,” he rasped, slightly tightening his grip at her waist.

She sighed softly, ghosting her fingers over his temple, pushing back a stray strand of hair. “I know you’re in pain, just-“

“And you’re drained,” he cut her off, tightening his jaw. His voice dipped lower, rougher. “Always… drained. Always crying. Always good. Even if I don’t deserve it.”

There he was again, stuck in the past, tangled in guilt and old wounds that refused to close.

Her heart clenched, but she didn’t let go. Didn’t move away. Instead, she cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb just beneath his eye.

“You deserve kindness,” she said firmly. “You always have.”

He turned his face slightly into her palm, as if hiding from the weight of her words. “…I don’t believe that,” he admitted.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, tightening her fingers against his skin. “Then let me believe it for you.”

Slowly, cautiously, she leaned in.

His breath hitched and his fingers flexed against her back, but he didn’t move away. Didn’t stop her.

She hesitated just before closing the distance, stopping her lips a whisper away from his. A silent offering, not a demand. He could pull back. He could reject it.

But he didn’t.

His grip on her tightened ever so slightly, barely perceptible, but she felt it, the smallest tug, a subconscious need.

So she closed the gap.

The first touch of her lips against his was featherlight, hesitant. The kind of kiss given when neither person was sure if they were allowed to have it. When the past weighed too heavy, when the present was too fragile.

He stiffened at first, as if his body didn’t know what to do with the warmth, real warmth. The softness of her lips against his, the tentative press of her fingers against his cheek, all of it felt foreign, too delicate for someone like him. But then, something in him cracked. His fingers curled against the fabric at her back, then tightening his grip and for a second -just one second- he leaned into it.

Then a sharp inhale. A shudder. His grip twitched, his body went rigid again, and she felt it, felt the exact moment the weight of too much history, too much instinct, too much them came crashing down.

She pulled back immediately, searching his face. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, his breath shallow. His lips parted, as if trying to form words but finding none.

She gently stroke her thumb along his cheekbone. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re okay.”

His throat bobbed, and his fingers ghosted at her waist, barely touching, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed. His gaze flicked down, lingering on her lips for the briefest moment before darting back up to her eyes.

Then, barely above a whisper, rough and unsure-

“…Again?”

A request. A plea. A fractured man grasping at something good, something warm, something he never thought he could have.

She smiled softly, before leaning in once more, giving him exactly what he asked for.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @sunshinedayz19 @star-maker-rain-dancer @tumdlrnewb84 @mgchaser @buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger @gotminho @kaitlin013106 @startorrent @idontknowhowtonormal @mattmurdock42 @hnnhbananananana @aeriss-at-heart45 @jainaeatsstars @airixaram @seventeen-x @jaxz21 @zizzlekwum @hi172826 @valckenaux @moth-maam56 @myllamatimemachine @unaxv @smiithys @cats-chaotic-mind @melsunshine @neuviloved @cjand10 @frombkjar @strvnger3ditz @nikkinss @alexandra-001 @lavanderbreeze @cats-chaotic-mind @sleep-tight1 @lasrehsif @delicatepersondinossaur @bodhisattva11 @isepod @mrsnikstan @impoeticbeauty @beewilko @chinggay85-blog

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky hurt/comfort #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x curvy!reader

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slayfics · 1 year ago

Text

Katsuki gets caught being sweet to you.

You started to finally catch your breath being at the top of the hiking trail Katsuki had dragged you out too.

"Alright there, it's just us up here so tell me already. What the hell has been going on?"

"That's why you brought me out here?" You asked.

"Just tell me already, stop being so damn stubborn." He pried you impatiently.

"I told you I'm fine Bakugo, just busy like everyone else." You replied.

"Don't give me that shit. Do you think I'm stupid? The other extras are too dense to notice but I can see how exhausted you've been this whole week. So just tell me- what's going on," He said.

"You didn't need to drag me out here on a hike in freezing weather to do this, you know," You said, slightly irritated at Katsuki continuing to push you.

"Ugh- will you stop stalling and talk already," He yelled, causing you to let out an annoyed sigh. Katsuki put his hands in his pockets and looked out at the view, his demeanor softening slightly. "You can talk to me, you know," he added, his voice lower and kinder than before.

You stayed looking at the view for a few more moments trying to figure out how to unpack everything that had been stressing you out. It wasn't like some big thing, but a summation of a bunch of little things that were beginning to become too challenging to manage.

A cold breeze blew by causing you to shiver. You wondered why Katsuki had insisted on bringing you up this mountain to talk to you. He could have pestered you in your dorm where it was warm.

Katsuki stole glances at you occasionally then focused back on the view not wanting to intimidate you too much from his glare. Hiking always helped him to clear his mind and gather his thoughts when they seemed too loud. He thought maybe it would help you too, and being away from all your classmates might make it easier for you to talk to him. At the very least it made it easier for Katsuki to be more vulnerable with you. He found it too daunting to express himself fully with all the attention of his classmates around. It was much easier being only in your company.

You took a deep breath, "I guess- it's just been hard to balance everything recently," You finally spoke, breaking the silence. Katsuki made it easy to open up to, as he had no problem sitting in silence for long extended periods. Others in your life felt the need to fill that silence with useless chatter which always prevented you from sitting in your emotions and being able to formulate them into words.

You took in another breath feeling a lump in your throat form. You hadn't wanted to talk to anyone about what was going on for fear of opening up the flood of emotions and not being able to stop. Now here it was. You didn't want to cry on this fucking hill.

Katsuki patiently waited while you gathered your thoughts.

"It's just been so much and I've been barely keeping up. It's- been getting to me recently. I've been forgetting things I shouldn't. Being unusually upset at things that aren't that big of a deal- and I just- it's dumb." You cut yourself off afraid to say anymore.

"It's not dumb. Don't hold that shit in, it's not healthy," He said encouraging you to keep talking.

You sighed, "I just... know that it could be way worse, and I've been through way worse so- I feel so irritated at myself. What I'm going through now isn't something I can't handle. I know that. So why do I feel so fucking exhausted with everything," You replied wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

"Hmm," Katsuki grunted, processing what you said. "You know, it's ok to be tired, and- to not be perfect. You can't just deny yourself from feeling overwhelmed because it could be worse. If you're exhausted now then those feelings are real- and it's ok to have them," He spoke.

You looked down at the view watching the distant cars pass, "Thanks," You managed to say taking another deep breath.

"You shouldn't wait to handle them until they explode either. Trust me, I know what that's like," He said, causing you to let out a small giggle. "You're too damn hard on yourself you know that?"

You let out a full laugh, "Oh that's pretty good coming from you. You're the pro at having too high expectations for yourself," you laughed.

You and Katsuki were wrapped up in your conversation causing you not to notice approaching classmates in the distance. Mina and Eijiro had also decided to come up the hill after class and spotted both of you in the distance.

"That looks like we shouldn't interrupt," Eijiro said.

"Yeah," Mina agreed. "But maybe... we could get a little closer to make sure everything is ok?" She said, pulling Eijiro into the bushes to spy on you and Katsuki. Eijiro was highly against the plan but was unable to protest for fear of you two hearing.

"Yeah I know I have high expectations for myself... that's why I know what it fucking looks like when you're being too hard on yourself. So- tonight I'm coming to your dorm and, I'm making sure you get to bed at a reasonable fucking time."

Mina's eyes widened as she looked at Eijiro, "Coming to their dorm?!" She whispered, and Eijrio covered her mouth, silencing her.

"You mean Grandpa time at 9 p.m.?"

"Shut up! 9 p.m. is late as hell! You damn idiots just don't know how to have a good sleep schedule! Look I'm making sure you get some sleep and tomorrow I'm taking you out. So- figure out where you want to eat, I don't care where. And I'm not letting you say no you need a break," Katsuki replied.

"You don't have to do that Bakugo."

"Of course, I don't have to but, I want to. So just shut up and let me take care of you ok. You better not be afraid to order enough food this time either! I'm buying so- just get whatever you want, alright?"

"Ok ok," You laughed, feeling your mood brighten.

"Next time, just tell me when you're having a bad day or something. Stop making me drag it out of you. I- worry about you, you know? Now let's go back to the dorms. I see you shivering," He said, beginning to walk back down the hill.

Mina squirmed again under Eijiro's hand, keeping her silent. Her eyes said it all. She was in disbelief at Katsuki's words.

"Here," Katsuki said, holding his hand out and offering it to you. "I'll warm your hand with my quirk," he said.

You grabbed his hand interlacing your fingers with his.

"Don't dare say anything about how sweaty my hands are!" He barked.

You giggled, "How many times do I have to tell you I don't care Bakugo. It's part of your quirk, and your quirk is amazing you shouldn't be self-conscious about it. Besides, I'm always happy to hold your hand," You said as you two walked down the mountain.

"Tch whatever," Katsuki grumbled looking away from you as a small tint grew on his cheeks.

Finally, when you and Katsuki were far enough down the hill, Eijiro released Mina.

"WHAT WAS THAT?!?" Mina exclaimed.

"Shh shhh," Eijiro pleaded.

"WHAT- He wants to take care of them?!? OH MY GOD! They are totally dating right?! That's what he said he's taking them out to eat! And he's sneaking into their dorm! Wait wait- when they held hands it sounded like that had before! AND AND BAKUGO WAS TOTALLY BLUSHING! NO WAY!" Mina said looking like she might pass out from all this information.

"Ashido relax, we shouldn't have heard any of that!" Eijiro replied.

"Yeah but but-" Mina exclaimed, her head spinning. "Who knew Baklugo could actually be so sweet! I can't wait to tell Jiro-" She said, pulling out her phone.

"NO!" Eijiro said, grabbing her phone from her. "Uh- sorry, I didn't mean to be so harsh but- you can't tell anyone what we heard ok?" Eijiro said.

"WHAT?! I just heard Bakugo being the sweetest boyfriend ever and you expect me not to say anything about that?!"

"YES!" Eijiro yelled. "Look they both like their privacy and there is a reason they were all the way up here talking, Ashido. I think we should keep this a secret and let them do things at their own pace ok?" He said, handing Mina back her phone.

"UGH-" She exclaimed letting out a big sigh. "I guess you're right... but wow who would have thought Bakugo could be a decent person much less a good boyfriend." She said.

Eijiro just shrugged at her words, "I don't know he's not a bad guy like you all make him out to be you know."

"Wait! You totally already knew didn't you!" Mina said, slapping Eijiro's shoulder.

"Hey! I mean- Bakugo is my best friend you know, so yeah I did..." He answered truthfully.

"You suck! Keeping secrets like that from me!" Mina said playfully, waving a finger at him.

"I'm sorry, but it's their business you know?" He said.

"Yeah I understand, guess we should go back to the dorms too now," Mina suggested.

"Yeah it is pretty cold up here, let's go." He agreed as they both started to walk down the hill. "I don't have Bakugo's quirk or anything but- if you're cold you can hold my hand too if you want," Eijiro suggested.

Mina's face tinted a darker pink as she reached out and grabbed Eijiro's hand.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries

Picture taken from @everypanelofkatsuki, thank you for all your hard work! Go check them out if you haven’t!

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witchygagirlwrites · 2 months ago

Text

Jay Halstead x Reader

Jay really hates your boyfriend

Smut, it's smut 🤷‍♀️

Elijah Wilson. If someone came up to Jay on the street and told him they could give him one million then and there to say something good about the man, well he’d still be showing up to work the next day wouldn’t he? He couldn’t stand the man. Defense attorney, some ivy league silver spoon trust fund kid that didn’t have a single callous on his hands. Every time he saw him he was wearing a freaking tailored suit for god’s sake. What the hell you were doing with a man like that he had no clue.

You lived in blue jeans and fitted tees. In the winter your change up was either long sleeve tees or henleys. He wasn’t saying you couldn’t doll up when you wanted to, no you couldn’t knock em dead at any gala CPD was summoned to but you were drop dead gorgeous slamming perps to the ground in your gear in his book. He knew for a fact Elijah didn’t know your favorite band, your favorite coffee order or your time of year. Elijah didn’t know what gun you preferred to carry or what you scored the last time you recertified, he probably couldn’t even tell you your arrest record. Jay could answer damn near any question about you quicker than he could about himself.

He hated Elijah. The asshole had hurt your feelings one too many times, he’d overheard one too many phone calls you’d had with him, Adam had mentioned too many conversations he’d heard you having with Kim. He made you doubt yourself. That was the reason why Jay had nearly kicked his ass on more than one occasion. Once Voight had stepped in and another Kelly had just happened to be in the right place at the right time to keep Jay from catching a bad enough charge that would jeopardize his badge.

Jay wasn’t an idiot to his own feelings. He knew how he felt about you. He had for some time but he wasn’t going to say anything. You wanted the trust fund asshole, so be it. That didn’t mean he had to like it and just because you were partners and friends that didn’t mean he had to be around you too much after the clock struck quitting time, even if it killed him inside a little every time you’d smile at him and ask if he wanted to grab a beer after work or call him for a coffee before work and he’d have to turn you down.

You were tired of fighting with Elijah. It seemed that was all you two did anymore. You had a fundraiser coming up for CPD that as a member of Voight’s unit you were expected to attend. You made a decision that you would talk to Elijah and if the two of you couldn’t come to some form of agreement you’d call it quits.

You drove over to his place and parked your truck next to his mercedes. You had to laugh at the image. You climbed out your truck and headed for the door. You tried it and it turned so you let yourself in “Elijah?” the moment you stepped over the threshold you heard a distinctly feminine moan. That son of a bitch.

Luckily for you, your job meant you could be a sneaky bastard when the moment called for it. You were through his apartment and to the bedroom door before either of them could realize what was going on. You pushed the door open and saw Elijah was on top of some blonde chic, her face down in the pillow and her hands clenched in the sheets as he rutted into her. “Well by all means, don’t let me stop you. I just think I left my shoes here after my last gala and I have a fundraiser on friday” you spoke and it was comical the way they both tried to scurry away from each other.

You laughed when Elijah hit the floor. “Oh honey, you could’ve finished. I seriously just need the shoes. We’re done by the way” he had the nerve to look pissed as he snatched the blanket off the floor to wrap around his waist “And I bet I know who’s bed you’ll wind up in” you stepped into the closet and quickly found the shoes in question before stepping out and looking back at him before saying “If his bed had ever been an option I would have never given you the time of day” then turned and walked out.

You turned in front of the mirror for the third time. The dress was a simple black number, had a high enough slit to give you movement but still modest enough for a decorated detective. Antonio had offered to pick you up so you didn’t have to drive. You were grateful for that. A friendly face.

You heard your phone ring and checked the time before answering it “Hey Dawson” “I’m outside sweetheart” you smiled at hearing him “On my way out” you grabbed your clutch and slipped your phone and keys in before going out to meet him. At least you would be with your unit tonight, even if some of them you weren’t sure still even considered you a friend or not.

____________________

Jay was standing with Adam,Kevin and Kim when he spotted Antonio walk in with you on his arm? What were you doing with Antonio? His eyes stayed glued to you as the two of you walked towards their group. Your hair was styled and down around your shoulders, the dress you had on hugged everything perfectly and when you moved just right that slit in it made him desperately want to see more. God you were so damn gorgeous, why you ever let some shitty lawyer bring you down he had no idea.

He nodded to Antonio “Bout time you made it” Antonio tilted his head your way “Someone had to pick up your partner Halstead” he cut his eyes at you “Where’s your little boyfriend?” you bought your eyes up to meet his and a smirk slipped onto your face before you said “Probably fucking the blonde I caught him with a few days ago” then you looked across the room “ooh punch. I’m gonna get some” and headed that way.

__________________

Antonio looked from Jay to your disappearing back “Go!” Jay nodded and quickly followed you through the crowd, hand wrapping around your arm “That bastard cheated on you?”

You spun around to face him and looked around “Jay, don’t use language like that in here” he rolled his eyes considering you were just using it and held his arm out “Let’s go for a walk then” you sighed and took his arm. You let him lead you away from the crowd then snatched your arm away “Yes he cheated technically but mentally I’ve been checked out the relationship”

“I’ll fucking kill him” Jay blurted and you laughed “Well mentally I think I was cheating long before him” that made Jay freeze and look back at you “Huh?” you shook your head, eyes wide “Did I say that outloud?” he nodded slowly “Yeah, what’s mentally cheating?” “Nothing” you replied and he took a step closer, noticing how your eyes went to his lips then back up to his “I’ll go ask Kev”

You sighed and your eyes dropped “When you’re thinking about someone else, especially to the point that you end up saying someone else’s name..more than once just to be able to get off” a grin slipped onto his face “You’re telling me you said someone else’s name in bed with that asshole? Oh that’s gold” he started to laugh but then he froze “Wait, who was it?”

You shook your head “Doesn’t matter” he raised an eyebrow “Someone I know?” you shook your head “Doesn’t matter” he took another step closer and that made you step back into the wall, a light sound escaping you when you realized you were boxed in. He placed a hand on either side of your head and leaned down to barely let his lips brush the shell of your ear as he asked “Who’s name did you say?”

You swallowed hard “We fought more than once over the person, Elijah thought me and the person was too close. Told me to choose between him and the person then when I said the person’s name on more than one occasion it became apparent” he nodded again “Still haven’t answered” his hands came to rest gently on your hips and he saw you close your eyes for a moment before you whispered “Yours”

He had to have heard you wrong. “Did you say that you said my name?” he asked and your eyes flew open “Yes ok? Jay I’ve fucking wanted you for years! The first time it happened I pushed it off on us kissing on that undercover but after the second, third, fourth time I knew I didn’t belong with Elijah”

A lazy smirk worked its way onto his face “Princess if you wanted to scream my name you could’ve asked for the real thing”

Oh this asshole! You just spilled your guts and he was making fun of you! “Fuck you Halstead” You cursed, shoving him away from you and running towards the door. Fuck the fundraiser, you’d get a cab home and tell Hank you were sick.

You’d just gotten outside then felt Jay’s hand around your arm “Where are you going?” “Home!” you almost yelled and he pointed you towards his truck “Then let me take you” “Why so you can make fun of me!” you argued and he groaned “Get in my damn truck!”

You pulled your arm out of his grip but stomped towards his truck. You climbed in the passenger seat and kicked your shoes off in the floorboard while he walked around to the driver’s seat. “If you wouldn’t have ran I could’ve told you that I feel the same. I hated him because he had you” he said then started the truck and pulled out onto the road.

“You want me?” you asked and he cut his eyes at you “So damn much,I want every damn bit of you. The good and the bad. I meant it when I said if you wanted to scream my name you could’ve had the real thing because you could’ve had me wrapped around your finger years ago”

He turned his eyes back to the road and you were quiet for a moment “Pull over Jay” he looked back at you “What?” you nodded “Pull over in that alley and kill the engine” he raised an eyebrow but did as you asked. The moment the engine was off you pushed up the console and turned in your seat “Do you mean that?” he nodded “Of course” you smiled and crawled across the console into his lap, throwing one leg over to be effectively straddling him.

His hands went to your hips and he looked up at you, a smile on his face and the low lights shining in those sea blue eyes “Kiss me Jay” you whispered and god the look he gave you “Yes ma’am” he pulled you down into kiss and you felt the way his hands on your hips pulled you down closer to him. You rolled your hips down against his and felt the fact that he was already hardening through the dress pants he wore.

Your hands buried in his hair, deepening the kiss when he rolled his tongue against yours. “Fuck” he muttered against your lips. You grinned as you reached to unbutton a few of his buttons, just enough you’d have access to his chest. “You’re so fucking sexy Jay” you whispered and he grinned “Look in a mirror baby” you leaned forward to press a line of kisses across his neck and his head fell back against the seat “Just like that” he moaned when you bit down just below his pulse point.

You felt one of his hands slip under your dress to tease at your clit through your panties, a low moan escaping you. “I want you Jay” you moaned and he nipped at your throat “Baby let me take you home, I want to take my time with you” you cut your eyes up at him and smiled “Why don’t you come home with me and take your time later? For now just touch me please?”

“Promise me I’m not a damn rebound. Promise me that you actually want me as bad as I want you” he begged and you caught his chin with your hand to force him to look you in the eye “Jay Halstead I have wanted you for years. If I get you now there’s no way I’m letting you go without a fight” he grinned and moved forward to catch your lips in a kiss and his hand slipped under your dress, fingers slipping under your panties to tease at your dripping core. “Fuck baby are you that wet from kissing me?”

You felt your face warm “I told you I want you” one of his fingers slipped into you and your head fell over onto his shoulder, a low moan of his name escaping you at the feeling “Oh I like how that sounds” he chuckled, adding another finger into you. He used his other hand to cup the back of your neck and pull you into a kiss. You moaned into his mouth when his fingers brushed across the spot inside of you.

He pulled away from your lips to kiss down your neck while his fingers kept their rhythm pushing you closer and closer to that edge. When he moved his hand so he could use the heel of it to add pressure to your clit you gasped out his name as your orgasm slammed into you. He continued to finger you through it until your legs were shaking then he gently pulled his fingers out of you and smiled at you as he licked them clean “Damn you taste good sweetheart”

You crashed your lips against his in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth, your hands going down to his belt “Please fuck me Jay” you begged and he laughed “You want me to fuck you here?” you nodded “Please, I can’t wait” he couldn’t tell you no. You looked too damn gorgeous, all spread out in his lap, the top of your dress slipping down, your face slightly flushed from one orgasm and your lips swollen from kissing him.

“Ok baby, I got you” he whispered as he unzipped his pants and slipped his hard cock out. You whimpered when you looked down between you “What’s wrong?” he asked with a smirk. You grinned “You’re a lot bigger than Elijah” he couldn’t help but laugh “Yeah, I figured”

You lifted up just enough he could line himself up when your opening then slid slowly down onto him,both of you moaning as he filled you completely. He felt a tremor go through your legs and rubbed his hands over your thighs “You ok?” you nodded, letting out a breath “I’m ok”

You started to roll your hips and Jay’s head fell back against the seat “Oh fuck princess” you grinned as you lifted up then slid back down on his cock. His hands went to your hips, not controlling your speed, just helping you. “Feel so good baby” he praised as you fucked yourself on his cock.

Your dress was bunched up to your hips and his shirt was unbuttoned but you could’ve cared less. Fuck every damn dream you’d ever had about Jay never could have compared to the real thing. “You feel fucking amazing Jay” you whimpered and it was like a switch flipped. His grip tightened and he started to fuck up into you. Your head fell over onto his shoulder and all you could do was hold on.

“Please don’t stop..fuck..I’m so damn close..fuck Jay..you’re fucking perfect” you weren’t sure what you were saying as he pushed you closer to that edge but when he slipped a hand between you to tease at your clit you felt that building pressure burst and you came screaming his name. He groaned out your name as he found his own release, filling you with his cum and pumping some of it back out with his thrusts.

He pulled you down against him and held you there as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal, kissing across your lips then neck. Once you finally lifted your head to look at him you smiled almost shyly “Was that a one time thing or is this the start of something?”

His eyes flickered down to where he was still buried inside of you “God I hope it’s the start of something because if not work is gonna get really awkward when this will be all I’ll be able to think about” you grinned and pulled him into a kiss “Come home with me Jay” he nodded “Yes ma’am”

He helped you to climb off of him and straighten your dress before tucking himself back into his pants. You didn’t bother getting back in the passenger seat and instead rode right next to him, with your head against his shoulder. Yeah, maybe Elijah was good for one thing, if that asshole cheating finally led to Jay getting you.

#jay halstead smut #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x you #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fic #chicago pd fanfic #jay halstead fanfiction

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isa-beenme · 18 days ago

Text

Whispers of Secrets and Starlight

Rhysand x Reader

So... yeah I saved Feyre from that weird scene when Tamlin bites her or wtv my girl doesn't deserve it

And... well... I don't want to rewrite the whole scene when Tamlin and Lucien needed to beg to rhys so meh I didn't

If anyone is wondering why I'm publishing this so fast: I have been writing pieces of this for weeks now, I'm just playing Lego building them into chapters

Warnings: Use of Y/N, ACOTAR rewrite, female main character, ew males, not 100% book following, some level of degradation (not on the good side), a decapitated head, Rhysand 🫦

Whispers of Secrets and Starlight - Masterlist

Chapter 3: The Night We Met

You hadn't planned to leave the manor. Even with that strange pull in your chest, that whispering ache beneath your ribs that had been gnawing at you the entire day, you'd forced yourself to stay put.

Whatever it was, whatever called to you beyond those gates... it wouldn't end well. It never did.

You had learned long ago not to follow those instincts, to shove them down, to bury the pieces of yourself that felt too wild, too close to something you couldn't name. You were supposed to be a lonely female who obeyed, served, and fought. You weren't a human, and you shouldn't act like an animal either. Whatever thread tugged at your veins tonight was dangerous, ancient. It had no place inside of you.

So you stayed. You paced your room, your fingers twitching, your heart rattling too fast in your chest. You clenched your hands at your sides, digging your nails into your palms until the sting grounded you. You wouldn't give in. Not tonight. Not to this.

But then… Then you saw Feyre. You'd only glance out the window, expecting to see the light of the fires in the hope it would calm you down a little bit. But there she was, slipping through the gates, darting into the forest with only the moonlight to guide her.

Your heart stopped. “What the hell is she doing?”

You were moving before your mind could catch up, slipping into your boots, grabbing your knife, and bolting out into the cold night air. Your body knew before you did, knew that if she was going where you thought she was, she wouldn't come back the same. You wouldn't watch another important person walk into a forest and never come back alive because of fae cruelty.

The bonfires glowed in the distance, flickering on the hills like tiny stars fallen from the sky. Drums pounded through the dark, deep and ancient, matching the thrumming in your own blood. The air itself felt heavier the closer you got thicker, charged with something that made your skin crawl.

Calanmai. You'd heard the stories whispered by the servants, the warnings that Tamlin had barked at dinner in that clipped, cold voice of his. Stay inside. Lock your doors. Don't come out until morning. It had been enough to keep you away. Until now.

You found Feyre near the edge of the celebration, half-hidden in the shadows as if she could ever blend in. Her wide eyes darted across the hills, her breath quickening as she took in the wild, drunken revelry unfolding before her. She was so painfully human, so breakable. She shouldn't be here.

"Feyre," you hissed, stepping out of the shadows.

She flinched, whirling toward you with a hand raising halfway into a silly defense pose. But her shoulders sagged when she saw you. "What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"I should be asking you the same damn thing. I only came after you." Your pulse was still racing — from the chase, from the moonlit tension clinging to the air... from that ache still thrumming low in your chest.

You scanned her face, searching for any sign of what had possessed her to come here. But all you found was stubbornness, that same reckless streak you'd spent years trying to protect her from.

"I wanted to see—"

"You wanted to get yourself killed," you snapped, stepping closer. "Do you have any idea what happens on Calanmai?"

Feyre's mouth opened, but whatever excuse she was about to spit out vanished as the drums deepened, echoing through the night. The bonfires flared higher, casting long shadows across the hills. Your stomach twisted.

"Let's go back to the manor," you ordered, voice low. "Now."

Feyre's brows pinched. "I just wanted to look—"

"We've looked." You grabbed her wrist, your pulse hammering beneath your skin. "Now we're leaving."

But before you could drag her away, a new sound cut through the night. Low, cruel laughter. Three males emerged from the shadows, tall, and lean, the stench of sweat and stale wine clinging to them. Their grins were sharp and predatory. You went rigid. Feyre froze beside you, her breath ragged.

"Look what we have here," one of them drawled, his white teeth glinting in the firelight. His eyes dragged over Feyre, then flicked to you. Your hand twitched to grab your knife.

"Two little mice lost in the woods." Your stomach turned to ice. They were drunk, but not nearly enough to make them weaker or slower, just bolder in cruel ways.

You shifted, putting your body between Feyre and the males without thinking. "Keep walking," you said quietly.

The tallest one grinned wider, his gaze crawling over your face, your body. You could feel Feyre trembling behind you. Could feel her fear, sharp and familiar, but you couldn't let her see your own.

"Why don't you let us have a little fun first, mice?" the male purred. You forced your grip to steady close to the knife hilt.

"I'd rather slit your throat open and watch your blood soak the grass." The male's grin faltered. Just slightly.

But before anyone could take another step, another male appeared. A shadow slid out of the darkness like smoke. One moment the space beside you was empty, the next, a figure stood there. Tall, dressed in black, power coiling around him like a living thing. The males stiffened. Feyre's breath caught.

But you... You knew. Even before you saw the gleam of those violet eyes, even before that voice slithered through the night, always smooth, amused, deadly.

"Here you are." His smirk was pure sin, hands tucked casually into his pockets. "I've been looking for you."

Feyre tensed beside you, blinking up at him. You didn't move. Didn't breathe. Because you'd heard that voice before. In whispered stories. In half-forgotten starlight dreams.

And something deep inside you—something you had spent years trying to bury—began to claw its way back to the surface. His gaze flicked between you and Feyre, those violet eyes shining with curiosity. And then he smiled. The males vanished into the crowd without another word. But his eyes never left yours.

He tilted his head, that slow smirk still playing on his mouth. "And who," he murmured, "Are you?"

He leaned slightly closer, power curling off him in tendrils, dark and ancient, brushing against your skin like a phantom touch. You fought the instinct to recoil, meeting his gaze head-on. You couldn't let him see that it affected you, that he affected you.

"I don't believe we've met," he said, voice smooth as silk, but there was something lazy beneath it, something... calculated. His eyes drifted down your body with slow, deliberate interest before flicking back to your face. "And I never forget a pretty face like this."

You felt Feyre shift behind you, her breath catching. Typical. Of course, he'd try to rattle you like that, try to make you squirm. You knew his type. Knew him, long before you'd ever set eyes on him.

Because once, many years ago, someone had whispered stories about him in the dark. Tales of the Night Court's heir. The half-breed with violet eyes and a silver tongue. The boy who laughed at the rules of his Court, who danced in the shadows and played wicked games with hearts and minds alike.

He had been nothing but a name back then. A distant legend told between stolen giggles through drunk females in bars and hushed gossip your mother’s friends told her in secret dinners. So he'd never been a stranger to you. Even now, standing in front of him, there was a flicker of something familiar beneath the dangerous beauty. But you locked it away, buried it deep where he couldn't see.

"I don't believe I gave you permission to look at me like that." Your voice was steady, clipped. "And I'm not in the mood for introductions."

His smirk sharpened. "Pity. I was rather enjoying the view."

Behind you, Feyre tensed again, but you didn't look away from him. Didn't even blink.

"You heard what I said." Your heart pounded in your chest, but you forced your chin higher, every inch of you screaming not to let him see an ounce of fear. "She's leaving."

Those violet eyes gleamed. Predatory eyes.

"And what about you?" he purred, stepping closer — close enough that you caught the faintest trace of night-blooming jasmine clinging to him beneath the smoke and sweat of the revelry. "Are you staying to keep me company?"

You didn't move. Didn't flinch. "That depends." You tilted your head slightly, voice dropping lower. "Wouldn't want to interrupt your little game of playing hero. How very... out of character, by the way."

Something flickered in his gaze—too fast to catch. Interest. Surprise. Like he'd expected a frightened little doe, not something sharp-toothed and biting back.

“Go. Now. Find our friend and tell him to get you back home.” You purposely didn't say Lucien's name, but hoped she would understand. You needed to get her out before Rhysand took interest in her mind. For once, Feyre didn't argue. You heard her footsteps retreating—heard the crackle of leaves under her boots as she vanished into the night. Leaving you alone with him.

The smirk on Rhysand's lips slowly grew bigger. His head tilted, those violet eyes drinking in every inch of you like you were some puzzle he couldn't quite solve. Then, slowly, you smiled.

It was an old habit—one you had learned to perfect long before you ever crossed the Wall. A smile could be a weapon just as sharp as a blade, just as cutting as any snarl. You wondered if he knew that, or if he thought you were some foolish girl playing brave in the dark. But those eyes, those impossible, star-flecked eyes, lingered on your face, as if trying to place something.

He didn't know you. Not really. But you knew him.

You had stopped to hear the stories whispered in firelit rooms by your best friend long before Prythian had become your prison of torture and grief. Had listened to a young female with dark hair and a quick tongue speak of the male with shadows in his veins and a crown he never wanted, how he lied to keep the appearances, how he protected his mother from his father, how he would be the best High Lord she would ever have to pleasure to see. You remembered the way her eyes had glowed when she spoke his name—Rhysand—as if he were something out of a dream that she hoped to witness.

But that girl was gone. And whatever warmth she'd once told you about had been buried beneath three centuries of blood and hungry power. Now he was the most dangerous male in Prythian and he was looking at you like he was trying to decide if you were prey or something more interesting.

For a long, tense moment, he just watched you. The firelight cast flickering shadows over his sharp features — high cheekbones, a strong jaw, and those violet eyes that seemed to see far more than what lay before him. The smirk on his lips never wavered, as if he was utterly amused by the sight of you stepping between him and your cousin.

His smirk grew. "You know who I am." It wasn't a question.

You forced yourself to keep the smile, a sharp curve of your lips. "I'd have to be a fool not to."

Rhysand's gaze dragged over you again, slower this time. Assessing. Calculating. Like he was trying to pick you apart — trying to place you. He wouldn't. Not yet.

He couldn't know that the female he'd loved decades ago was a connection to you. Not when you'd buried that version of yourself so long ago. Not when the name he'd once known was now dust on your tongue, a memory you wanted to keep just for yourself.

But still, those violet eyes narrowed slightly, as if something about you tugged at the edges of his mind.

You could practically feel him searching, prying, waiting. You almost wanted to let him. Almost.

"You should run along, High Lord," you said softly. "Go find someone else to toy with tonight."

His smile turned razor-sharp, all glittering teeth and promises of bad, beautiful things. "Now why would I do that," he murmured, stepping even closer, "when I've just found the most interesting creature at this entire miserable rite?"

You turn your mouth into a bored smile. "I wonder how many bones I'd have to break to keep you from ever finding out who I am."

For a heartbeat, he just stared at you. And then, he laughed. A rich, dark sound that wrapped around you like silk and smoke. The kind of laugh that belonged in the dead of night, in whispered promises and half-forgotten dreams. It made something deep in your chest tighten painfully.

Don't let him in.

He took a slow step closer, that wicked grin curling at his mouth again. The silence stretched between you, heavy with the pulse of Calanmai's magic. The air shimmered, alive, wrapping around your skin like a lover's touch. It made your blood sing—made the thing inside you stir and stretch, hungry for something you couldn't name.

Rhysand's head tilted slightly, that feline smirk still playing on his lips. "Brave little thing, aren't you?"

You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as the power thrumming beneath his skin seemed to reach out and brush against yours, testing, curious. "I've been called worse."

His smile sharpened. "I have no doubt."

A breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of bonfire smoke and crushed grass. You clenched your hands at your sides, fighting the urge to shiver. The pull in your chest hadn't stopped, not since the sun had set. If anything, standing here in front of him, it had only grown stronger. It was like the magic of Calanmai was trying to drag you into him, to let him fill your lungs, your blood, your bones. It made you feel like you were coming apart at the seams.

You could see it in the way his eyes narrowed slightly, in the way his power curled at the edges of your senses. He could feel it too, then, the same way you could feel him.

For years, you'd carried his name like a secret in the hollow of your chest. You had wondered what had become of the male your friend once spoke of, if he had survived his own reign, or if he'd been swallowed by the darkness his father left in his wake. Rhysand took another step closer until he was close enough that the warmth of him brushed against your skin.

"What's your name?" he asked softly.

The question settled in your bones, vibrating through every nerve in your body. You should give him a false one. Should use your half human part of yourself to lie and disappear into the night. But the words slipped out before you could stop them.

"If you guess correctly I'll give you a prize, maybe." He blinked, caught off guard—and then he laughed again, richer this time.

"I think I like you." You felt the corner of your mouth twitch upward, heart still racing in your chest.

"You wouldn't be the first to." His smile was slow and lazy, like he had all the time in the world. He opened his mouth—to say what, you didn't know—but then his head tilted slightly, as if hearing something in the distance.

His gaze flicked back to you, the amusement gone. "You should run along now, little human."

The nickname curled in the air between you, mocking, teasing. He was trying to scare you off. Trying to see if you'd flinch.

You didn't.

Before you could say anything he tilted his head slightly. “Tell me, will I be seeing you again?”

Your heart skipped, and you tilted her chin up, meeting his gaze squarely. Whatever answer you wanted to give died in your chest. “You most definitely will.” It was all you said.

Without another word, Rhysand reached out, taking your hand in his. The brush of his lips across your knuckles was light, but it sent a shock of heat up your arm until your heart.

Then he straightened, his eyes locking with yours once more. He stepped back, melting into the shadows with that same infuriating smirk. "Until we meet again, little girl."

With a final smile that was pure mischief, he vanished into the night. And then he was gone. But his power lingered, wrapped around you like invisible chains.

You stood in the dark for a long time, your heart still thundering, your breath still catching in your throat. Your hand lingered where he had kissed it, but before you could think too much about it, the sensation in your chest, this pounding feeling, began to grow weaker.

It wasn’t the pull of the magic of Calanmai in the air. It was something else. Something between the both of you that you were afraid to name.

Your friend had always told you that Rhysand would become the most dangerous male in Prythian. What she never told you was how easy it would be to want him.

☆

When you finally returned to the manor, the first thing you did was check on Feyre. Your heart hadn't stopped pounding since you'd left her in the woods. You know that this night you will barely sleep, your ears still echoing with the rhythm of the drums, the feel of those violet eyes pinned on you like a predator playing with its prey.

But when you got to her room, nothing had happened. Thank the Cauldron, nothing had happened to her. Feyre was asleep when you checked on her, tucked beneath the blankets, her breathing steady. You lingered in the doorway for a long moment before leaving the bedroom, the tight knot in your chest slowly unwinding. She was safe. For now.

You hadn't been able to get him out of your head. Those eyes. That smile. That question. Who are you? You weren't sure you'd ever wanted someone not to know something so badly in your life.

The next morning, after sleeping way less than you were used to, as you kept looking at the night sky outside, you woke to the sound of raised voices drifting through the halls. Tamlin and Lucien fighting. Again.

So you took your time getting ready, washing off whatever remnants of Calanmai still clung to your skin. The manor felt heavier today like the weight of the night before had sunk into the very walls. You heard Tamlin being a beast in the middle of the night while he chased something in the corridors, so you woke up and checked to see if he would get close to Feyre’s bedroom. Thankfully, to his luck, he didn’t.

By the time you made your way down to breakfast, the tension in the air was thick enough to cut. You stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame, unnoticed. Lucien was standing by the window, arms crossed as he watched the scene, face tight with anger. Tamlin was behind the chair at the head of the table, still radiating that barely-leashed temper that always seemed to simmer just beneath his surface.

And kneeling in the middle of the room was Feyre. You didn't need to ask what exactly happened. Even if you didn't have the details, you already knew. Your eyes flicked to the third and fourth plates set on the table, the torn curtains that no longer hid the decapitated head of a male in the middle of the garden, and then Rhysand having fun with the scene.

You watched silently as he prowled through the room, circling them like a cat playing with mice. His power crackled in the air, invisible claws wrapped tight around both Tamlin and Lucien, a smaller amount of it hanging around on Feyre — to what you could sense, she wasn't slightly hurt. He was toying with them and they hated it. But you... You couldn't help the smile that curled on your lips. It was the only time you'd ever seen Tamlin where he belonged — on his knees.

By the time Rhysand finally released them from his invisible grip, the High Lord of the Spring Court staggered back to his chair, jaw clenched, pride shredded. Lucien muttered something low under his breath, barely holding himself together as he helped Feyre get off the ground. You chose that exact moment to step forward, your voice cutting through the heavy silence like a knife.

"I come late one time," you drawled, making your way toward the table, "and miss the only day we get a little fun around here."

Four heads snapped toward you. Feyre flinched. Lucien's amber eyes widened slightly. Tamlin's nostrils flared. But Rhysand's smirk only sharpened.

You let your gaze drift lazily over Tamlin, lips curling. "It was lovely seeing you like that, Tam. You should try that more often."

Tamlin's green eyes flashed, his mouth opening— But Rhysand flicked his fingers, and Tamlin's voice died in his throat. A laugh slipped from your lips. Pure, delighted mockery.

"Ah." You settled into your chair, reaching for a piece of cake. "That's even better. The no sound of your voice. That is my preferred routine, honestly."

Lucien shot you a warning look — one that screamed ‘Stop talking before he kills you’. But you didn't. You couldn't. Not when you could feel him watching you. Not when those violet eyes pinned you to your seat like he was already peeling back your mind layer by layer. You glanced at him from beneath your lashes, slow and deliberate.

"Care to join us for breakfast, High Lord?" you offered sweetly, breaking off a piece of cake. "We do love having guests, right? Tell him, Tamlin.” You turned your head to Rhysand, tilting your head to look up at him. “That's how we got stuck here, by the way. He offered breakfast once and never let us go back. But I'm sure your company is not as wanted as Feyre's, so you probably won't have the same destiny.”

“Y/N.” Lucien's voice sounded desperate, he gripped Feyre's arms in fear, but at the same time to steady himself. To remember that there were more innocent people to protect.

But Rhysand onky stepped closer — too close. He leaned down, until his breath ghosted across your ear.

"So," he murmured, voice like velvet. "Enlighten me, how many bones did it take for me to find out who you were, hm?"

Your heart stumbled. He probably saw you in Feyre’s memories. But you didn't let your smile falter. Instead, you leaned back just enough to meet his gaze — so close your noses nearly brushed. You flicked your eyes toward the window, toward the head now mounted on a spike in the gardens. The same male who had cornered you and Feyre last night.

You looked back at Rhysand, your smile sharpening. "Just one head was enough, apparently."

A low, wicked laugh rumbled in his throat. For a moment — just one breath — the entire room vanished. It was just the two of you. He, with all his dark, ancient power coiling beneath the surface. You, with whatever it was buried inside you — something half-forgotten, half-awake. The crackle between you tasted like lightning. Then Rhysand straightened, his smirk firmly back in place.

"As tempting as that offer is," he purred, "I'm afraid I'll have to decline." His eyes flicked once more over you, slow and thorough. "But I'll be sure to extend the invitation back one day... in my court."

Your smile didn't waver. "You will know where to find me."

His grin turned lazy. "Oh, I will be sure to remember."

With one last lingering glance, he vanished — just a ripple of night and shadows left behind. Only then did you exhale. You felt the weight of three pairs of eyes still fixed on you. You tore another piece of cake between your fingers, glanced at the three stunned faces around the table, and smiled.

"So..." You popped the bite into your mouth, chewing slowly. "Which one of you will tell me how all of this happened? I got here, and the two amazing soldiers in shining armor were already on the ground."

Lucien choked. Feyre blinked at you, wide-eyed. Tamlin's chair scraped back as he stormed from the room without a word. You leaned back in your chair, sipping your coffee. Maybe Calanmai hadn't been a total waste of time after all.

~♡ Taglist: @rcarbo1 @raisam

#Spotify #acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand #rhysand acotar #rhys x reader #reader insert

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pannman · 1 month ago

Note

Could I request Angel Dust x male reader wedding? It would probably be at the hotel and be super cute

A Hazbin Wedding

Angel Dust x Male Reader

Charlie ran about the hotel as if possessed. Everything had to perfect. She was a good friend. And she loved weddings. You remembered the day you and Angel told everyone you were engaged. Everyone was supportive and excited for you but Charlie was already spouting out ideas with utter joy. Ever since then the two of you barely had to lift a finger in preparation for your big day.

Angel grew up in a very traditional home so he believed in all the wedding superstitions. So of course you hadn't seen him at all. It's bad luck if you do. Although you weren't even sure whether he was going to be wearing a dress or a tux. He could rock either if you were being honest. And he'd take your breath away no matter what. So whatever he wore didn't concern you much

Getting married in hell as a sinner was a rare occurrence. So of course your wedding was the talk of hell. Alastor did his best to keep the riff raff or more importantly the 666 news away. Of course Vox was out there talking shit. That was until Alastor sent him a couple of employees heads in gift boxes with warning letters. You guessed that Vox didn't wanna go to war over something as trivial as wedding so he decided to shut up

Husk ran the open bar. Niffty kept things clean and handled decorations. Vaggie kept everyone on task, and Charlie helped the two of you prepare. You got your tux on and checked yourself out in the mirror. You always dreamed about your wedding day and assumed after you had died that it was too late. But look at you now. And to the most amazing person you've ever met. Angel was handsome, funny, playful and made your chest flutter even just thinking about him.

It was after he had finally opened up to you and showed his vulnerable side that you truly fell in love with him. It showed how much he'd grown to trust you and it made you feel a way that you had never felt before. Now you were going to spend eternity together

"You look great!" Charlie said encouragingly. "Thanks... I'm a bit nervous" you admitted. "Nervous? Why?" She asked. "Like what if I mess it up, like I trip or something or forget the vows?" You asked in a slight panic. Vaggie spoke as she entered "then you know Angel will just make fun of you and then you'll get all flustered and then no one will care" she was right. Angel's teasing had a way of breaking the tension. And a way of making you red in the cheeks

You ran your vows through your head over and over. There's no way you'll forget them. You waited for your cue out in ballroom which had been transformed like magic into the most beautiful alter you'd ever seen

You joined arms with Vaggie and stepped down the aisle. It wasn't a huge wedding. Just the closest people you knew here in hell but it was all you needed. You smiled at their faces as you walked past. There was a roll in the rug...

To give Vaggie credit she did try to catch you. But she wasnt quick enough. Before you knew it you face planted into the ground. "I fucking knew it!" You complained. Vaggie helped you up and you continued on your way and stopped in your place. Then you turned to watch the rest of party

Finally it came. The time for Angel to walk out on that aisle. Angel stepped out in a beautiful wedding dress. (Ah a dress), you thought. (Well he looks damn good in it. Of course he does. And I tripped). You tried not to feel embarrassed by it. Angel approached gracefully until you two were face to face. You reached over and tossed his veil to reveal a smug grin

"That eager to marry me got you tripping over your own shoes?" (of course he saw it) He continued "or maybe you just wanna get this over with so you can tear this dress off" you blushed deeply. "Alright Angel..." Vaggie tried to keep this wedding pg. In fact she's been doing it since the beginning and it's been a constant struggle

Lucifer being the king of hell and a former angel was the closest thing to a religious priest you could get and he was overjoyed when you asked him to officiate the wedding. He told a lot of corny jokes and made a lot wholesome comments. You felt you had chosen wisely

Fat Nuggets waddled down the aisle with the rings tied to him. He looked adorable in his little tuxedo. You and Angel were both in awe. You over heard Charlie nudge Vaggie and say "I trained him to do that" she sounded filled to the brim with glee

You placed the rings on each other's fingers and looked deeply into each other's eyes as Lucifer continued

Finally it was time for the vows.

Angel went first. "Y/N, I've never thought I would get married. And I thought if I did, it would be in Vegas. But love sure finds you when you're least expecting it. And I definitely wasn't expecting it after I was six feet under. But I'm damn glad I did because no one quite understands me like you."

"No one laughs at my jokes as much as you do, no one tolerates my flirting like you do, no one satisfies me in bed the way you do, and no one makes me happier than you do. And when this is over I am gonna DO. YOU. And I will continue to love you for eternity. Or until we die arm and arm together in a bar fight. Whichever comes first"

His vows were unsurprisingly filled jokes, innuendos and oddly romantic but oddly dark incredibly specific circumstances. Everything you've come to know and love about him.

Now it was your turn

You had went over the words a million times in your head. (The words. The words? Oh God! What were the words?!?)

Seeing him stare at you in this moment it felt like you were lost in his eyes and you had no idea how to get back

Angel smirked. "I make you speechless huh?" It only occurred to you now that you had been stuttering and struggling to speak. But Angel's teasing helped you find SOME words.

"Everytime I'm with you, you leave me speechless. You take my breath away. I can't imagine my afterlife without you. And honestly can't believe I went through my whole life on earth not knowing you. I know this hotel is about trying to get out of hell. But hell turned to heaven when I met you.... Yikes that's corny!" you cringed but also giggled at your cheesy line but when you looked at Angel you saw tears in his eyes.

"No that was beautiful! Don't you EVER stop saying stuff like that!" He was trying not to break down it seemed. "Okay I'm sorry. I had no idea I had that much of an effect on you" you teased him. "Why do you think we're doing this?" He played along "I'm not marrying ya for shits and giggles." You laughed "I thought it was for my hot ass" Angel pulled you close, his face inches away "that too... now kiss me you beautiful idiot" Lucifer took that as cue " I now pronounce you married. you may kiss"

This kiss was almost like the very first one. Butterflies, spark and passion. But this time there was a real intense sweetness to it. You didn't wanna let him go but an entire crowd was watching you.

You tried to pull away but Angel wouldn't let you. Savoring the kiss and holding you by the back of your head. You felt his tongue slip through and he only stopped when he heard the sound of discomfort from the audience

He finally pulled away and looked at you lustfully. "Why don't you and I go somewhere more private and I can finally give you your wedding gift"

You turned beat red as Angel joyfully dragged you off to your bedroom.

After a night of "privacy" the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms. And all you could think about was that in the morning you'll wake to see his face. And from now on every morning will be like that forever. An eternity of waking up heaven. (Even though that's kinda corny...)

(Nah, it's beautiful)

#vivziepop #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x male reader #angel dust x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie hazbin hotel #hazbin charlie #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vaggie #vaggie hazbin hotel #hazbin vaggie

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modelbus · 8 months ago

Note

Congratulations on your 1000 followers!!!

For your event i request the following...

Ghost. Soulmate (colors). Cage.

Hear me out either reader or ghost is trapped in a cage and thats how they meet.

Congratulations again!!!!

You have been heard… why are you allergic to joy??

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Gn!Reader

Soulmate AU - Cage

As a prisoner of war, you had one job: don’t give up intel.

It didn’t matter what they put you through. The waterboarding, the starvation, the damn cage they trapped you in. Saying anything you knew would lead to death, the very thing you wanted to avoid. Your knowledge would go the grave with you.

You shiver, squinting out into the dim room you’re kept in. The terrorists blissfully didn’t give you a gag, probably hoping you’d shout out secret intel. You’d rather freeze before doing that, curled up on the metal floor or the dog cage they’ve locked you in.

Maybe it’s been weeks. Maybe it’s been months. Their hideout doesn’t seem to have any windows, and you can’t tell what color the light under the door is to tell what time it is. Everything’s in black-and-white because you haven’t met your soulmate, and would probably never now.

Numb fingers hook around the bars of your cage, your shoulder uncomfortably resting against them. Bastards couldn’t even give you a single blanket. Fuck them. Fuck them, and fuck their whole organization.

You were—are—a soldier in special operations. A sergeant. They can demean you however they fucking like, but you’ve been trained not to give in. You’d rather die here.

They left you in your mission clothes, the same ones you were wearing when you got captured. By now they’re stained, wrinkled, and torn, but familiar. Still yours, something they haven’t stripped from you yet.

Faintly, you can hear gunshots. Maybe they’re practicing their shooting like they often do. Special forces could beat them in an aiming contest any day, so they really need the practice.

You wait for the shots to stop then start again, maybe hear a few choice swears, but you don’t. Instead, you get the sound of quick footsteps and shouting. Way too many voices to be the same terrorists that captured you.

Sitting straighter, you have to duck your head so you don’t hit it on the cage ceiling. What’s going on? More terrorists? You don’t let yourself hope that it’s a rescue mission. You knew a long time ago: they don’t do rescue missions.

The door bursts open, sunlight streaming in and nearly blinding you. You force your eyes to stay open though, getting ready to claw at someone if you have to.

But instead of a sloppy terrorist, or even a leader in some fancy suit, you recognize the gear the person is wearing. The familiar gun, the combat boots, helmet, and vest.

Military.

You can’t see the colors of the flag on his vest, but he turns and you can mostly make out the shape. British, you’re pretty sure. Someone safe.

“Fuck were they doing in here?” The stranger asks, voice gruff. He kicks at an empty can on the ground, and you lick your cracked lips in preparation to talk.

The soldier beats you to it though. He turns toward you, giving you a full view of the skull mask he wears. Eyes falling downwards, they see the cage, then meet yours.

Color explodes across your vision.

He has blue eyes. The can was red. The walls are blue, which you hadn’t guessed.

The soldier seems equally as surprised, slowly looking around before dropping into a crouch in front of you. Well, not just any soldier, you guess. Your soulmate.

“Who the hell are you?” He asks, not opening the latch yet. Not wanting to risk you being a terrorist, you’re guessing.

You scramble for the chain around your neck, tugging it off and offering your dog tags to him. He reads them, stands up, and shouts over his shoulder.

“Price! We’ve got a POW in here!”

Another man comes in—Price?—in the same outfit. Except he has a hat on. You glance warily between the two, shifting.

“Stop.” Your soulmate orders, not even looking away from you.

”You called me in here, Ghost—“

“You’re scaring ‘em.” Ghost answers.

Ghost. An interesting Callsign, one that sounds vaguely familiar. You’ve heard it somewhere before. Maybe one of the terrorists mentioned him. Something about him being scary. You can certainly see why; he’s big, looks dangerous. But he’s your soulmate apparently.

“Fuck you.” You say hoarsely. “I’m not scared.”

“Goddamn.” Price whistles. “How long you been here?”

You’re too prideful to ask what day it is, so you fix him with a glare instead. Fuck him too.

“Long enough, I’d wager.” Finally, Ghost reaches out to start undoing the locks and latches of your cage.

“No kidding.” Price goes to step forward again, but Ghost jerks his head around to glare at him. “Fuck, Ghost. I’m just tryin’ to help.”

“I’m helping.” Short, simple. Territorial.

He swings the cage door open, and you scramble out, desperate to finally stand. You’re never going to take stretching for granted again. Every day you’re going to stretch without complaint, you swear.

The second you get your legs under you, they buckle, weak from disuse. Ghost catches you easily, an arm around your waist. His touch seems hesitant, hand flat on your side instead of curling around you.

“I can walk.” You insist.

“You can hardly talk.” Price corrects you. “Let’s get you back to our base and deal with this from there.”

He turns on his heel, striding out. Leaving you with Ghost. Leaving you with your fucking soulmate.

Ghost’s head tilts down to look at you. “You ain’t some kind of fucked up trick?” He asks.

“…no?”

“Then let’s go.”

#ghost simon riley #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost #cod #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley

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theobsessedcookiefan · 7 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/theobsessedcookiefan/758178391877910528/im-not-deadd-so-i-was-thinking-about-how-would?source=share

Now I can't stop imagining a story/possible story series if you like this idea enough....a human iseaked into the cookie world and the begining is like...y/n wakes up from gingerbrave and the others waking them up and they are like 'ok....this human is ours now' then...onward to hilarious eating scenarios where....well I can already imagine:

Cookie: gingerbrave! Gingerbrave! We have good news and bad news...

Gingerbrave: what's the good news?

Cookie: the human we just adopted and decided to take care of isn't trying to eat anyone that's alive.

Gingerbrave: that's good...I'm glad they have morals. Wait, what's the bad news?

Cookie: they keep trying to eat random items instead.

*off in the distance.*

Herb: STOP TRYING TO EAT THE TREES!!!

Y/n: *just chewing on the tree...*

Herb: GINGERBRAVE! Y/N IS DOING THAT THING AGAIN!!!

(Bonus if you want: I also can't help but imagine whenever they go adventuring or something....gingerbrave has to put y/n on a harness child leash in order to hold them back from trying to eat random stuff...like if you want a funny scenario:

Gingerbrave, talking to a fellow cookie: yes, y/n is a sweetheart and really loves talking to cookies but it's true they have a bad habit of, hold on one second. *they turn to y/n and yank on the leash* y/n no! No eating the dirt! *turns back to the cookie* so as I was saying-)

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I LAUGHED WHILE READING THAT LMAO.

So yes, I'll do it because guess what? Cookie run hiperfixation came back like William Afton. I gotchu bro

This'll be kind of interactive btw.

─────────ೋღ 🌺 ღೋ─────────

ꋬ ꒯ꏂꇙꇙꏂꋪ꓄ ꅐꄲꋪ꒒꒯

─────────ೋღ 🌺 ღೋ─────────

Okay, let's make a quick recap, you remember installing a silly game of cookies out of boredom and getting totally obsessed with it, it's okay, it's fine, it's not that big of a deal, younger you was obsessed with Minecraft after all, but back with the cookie game, maybe playing it on the bus stop wasn't your best idea, considering it made you get hit by it, okay that was definitely stupid of you, your parents always told you to pay attention to your surroundings when going out, you should've learnt that from all the pokemon go incidents. But focusing on the present; if this was the paradise your grandma told so much about then you should give her extra points, it was really pretty, a forest, blue skies with some clouds and green grass that looked exactly like those in movies, it was too perfect! But in the second glance, why were you slightly bigger than the trees? More importantly.. Why the trees looked so good?.. Was this the vegan's heaven? Or was this hell where you were forced to become vegan? Either way the trees were small, the bigger ones reached your forehead.

Keeping that in mind you sat down, thinking about the whole thing that was happening, were you really dead? If so then what were you supposed to do now? Then a sound broke your train of thoughts, voices? Wait.. You knew those voices. "Wait a damn second-" You thought, peeking through the leaves of the trees, taking advantage of the fact that you were sitting and they could cover you a bit, and what you saw made you speechless, why the heck were Gingerbrave, Strawberry Cookie and Wizard Cookie right in the path front of you?!

─────────ೋღ 🌺 ღೋ─────────

What will you do?

─────────ೋღ 🌺 ღೋ─────────

#cookie run #cookie run x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #crk

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leedosbunnyboy · 2 years ago

Text

Kyojuro Rengoku; The Flame Burning in My Soul

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Kyojuro Rengoku x Male Reader | (side) Tengen Uzui x Male Reader

Warning(s): Very Narrative Driven, Very Long(?), Slight Manga Spoilers, Mourning, Death

Summary: Living without the love of your life can do a number on you, especially when you’re living everyday wondering if you even want to go on.

Part I

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

He’s gone…

It feels like it was only yesterday that he was holding you and promising to marry you…

He’s gone…

He said the mission was going to be easy…

He’s gone…

He was supposed to come back safely…

He’s gone…

He’s just playing a prank!

He’s gone…

He sent that crow with a phony letter to scare us!

He’s gone…

Mr. Uzui must be in on it as well!

He’s gone…

They’re such pranksters!

He’s gone…

He’ll be back soon…

He’s gone…

I can’t wait until-

HE’S

GONE

NOW

…

It can’t be real…

it just can’t be…

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

You tried to convince yourself it wasn’t real. That it was all some sick game Kyojuro thought would be funny. That was until you saw his crow flying to the estate while you were outside cleaning with Senjuro, followed by a young boy with a scar…

“Are you Senjuro? And Sir Rengoku’s lover?” The boy asked before politely bowing.

“I take it you know about Mr. Rengoku? I’m so sorry. Before he died, he asked for some messages to be delivered to you, your father, and his lover. I’ve come to pass them on.” He stated.

“From my brother? Thank you, but i’m already well aware of what happened to him.” Senjuro solemnly stated. You moved closer to him to rub his shoulder. “What’s wrong?! Your face! It looks as pale as a ghost!”

“Knock it off!” All three of you were surprised by the sudden outburst. “Whatever message he left means nothing anyway! Why would he become a swordsman when he had no talent to being with! It’s no wonder he died! He’s worthless.” You gripped on the broom tighter, your eyes beginning to swell with tears at Shinjuro’s words. “He was a fool of a son from the start! A person’s potential is determined the day they’re born. Only a mere handful have any talent… the rest are just dregs of society. You’re either born a genius or someday killed by one!” Shinjuro stopped to take a drink. “It’s clear which one Kyojuro was. He had no future to begin with. No surprise he got killed.” Senjuro cuddled closer into your side.

“You shut your mouth!” You screamed, surprising all three boys. “Kyojuro had a bright future ahead of him! He was to come back and marry me! We were to be wed and start a life together! All my life, I dreamed of spending my last days with him, so don’t you dare stand here and soil his name by calling him worthless because he meant everything to me!” You fought back tears as Senjuro leaned closer to comfort you. “Just because you’re a sad old man who gave up on his own life doesn’t give you the right to speak badly about an other’s!”

“Give me a break! The funeral is over! It’s high time you both move on with your damn lives!” You held the youngest Rengoku behind you as he cried into your kimono.

“Just a moment!” The boy with a checkered haori moved to stand in front of you and Senjuro. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh? Please show some respect for your son!” He yelled.

“And just who the hell are you? Answer me! Or get off of my property!” Shinjuro yelled.

“I’m with… the demon slayer corps!” He announced. Something he did somehow caused Shinjuro to drop his jar of saké.

The next few moments were a blur to you. One second, he was yelling at the young slayer boy about sun breathing, the next he had him pinned to the ground, and then you were holding Senjuro after his father had hit him.

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on him you monster!” You rushed to put some distance between Senjuro and the altercation in front of you. “Why are you acting so hostile like this in the first place? Insulting your own child who lost his life… in front of his fiancé no less! And striking your son; what’s the matter with you?!”

“Are you alright?” You examined Senjuro’s face. He nodded, but still held the injury. “I’ll get you some ointment after he calms down, okay?” Senjuro nodded and you held him close to him, before turning back to see the boy lunging at Shinjuro.

“Young slayer, be careful!” You yelled. “He’s a former hashira!” Senjuro shouted as the boy was punched in the face by Shinjuro. “Please father! Have mercy!” You stepped away from Senjuro to rush towards the boy.

Your eyes widened as you saw the boy knock out a former hashira… with a head butt? You put your shock aside and caught both of them.

“Senjuro, please take this boy inside. I’ll deal with your father.” The young boy eagerly came to assist you as you painstakingly took the older man inside.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

Now you three found yourself in the main living area of the house as you applied some ointment to Senjuro’s injury and examined the other slayer boy’s injuries.

“I feel like I’ve made a grave mistake.” The boy said with a bowed head after you applied a simple healing balm to his forehead. You left to your room soon after, but you kept your door open to keep an ear out for Senjuro.

“Please sir, have some tea.”

“Thank you very much. I hope you can forgive me… for head butting your father and all. He’s okay right?” The boy asked.

“Oh yeah, he’ll be fine. (M/n)’s an amazing doctor, so it’s not like he’d be down for too long. And besides, he’s back to getting saké already.” Senjuro explained.

“What a relief.” The slayer huffed.

“You have my thanks.” Senjuro said, seemingly to the other boy’s surprise. “For standing up to him. I was too scared to. Even when he badmouthed my brother like that. I’m sure (M/n) is grateful too.” You watched through the back door as Shinjuro wobbled off to purchase more saké. “Tell me. What were my brothers last moments like.” You suddenly remembered why that boy was here in the first place. As that all too familiar pain began to emerge in your chest, you shut the door. You didn’t need anymore grief. Your heart has had enough as it is.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

A knock to your door awoke you from the nap you hadn’t even noticed you took. “Come in.” You groggily called and watched as Senjuro slowly walked in. “Our visitor has left.” He said. You nodded before Senjuro ran over and collapsed in your arms. You raked your fingers through his hair as he loudly sobbed into your shoulder. “It’ll be alright. We’ll get through this.” You cupped his face and looked into his teary eyes. “For Kyojuro, okay?” You held out your pinky to him. He nodded before interlocking your fingers.

“It was difficult getting him to accept Kyojuro’s sword guard. He swore he couldn’t accept it.” Senjuro lightly chuckled recounting his encounter with the young slayer boy you now knew as Tanjiro. “He said that you should’ve kept it.” He smiled. “I couldn’t keep that thing even if I wanted to. I’d get too sad.” You said, running your fingers through Senjuro’s hair.

“‘Don’t let me limit your heart’,” Senjuro said out of the blue. “‘Please allow someone else to give you the love i wish i could’ve, because you deserve the world and more. I hope you find a man who will treat you like the prince you are in my place.’” “What are you on about?” You turned to face him. “Those were Kyojuro’s last words to you. Tanjiro said he had the most to say about you. Apparently he wouldn’t shut up about how excited he was to marry his boyfriend when he returned from his mission.” You felt Senjuro’s tears falling in your lap before you even noticed the ones dripping down your cheeks.

You two cried a lot that night…

And the next…

And while you could’ve sworn you were hearing things, you knew Shinjuro was crying too.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

“You shouldn’t push yourself ya know? That’s not very flashy of you.” The sound hashira called to you as you continued to train.

You had chosen to become Tengen Uzui’s tsugoku as a means of defending yourself after Kyojuro’s death. It would be hard for anyone to train like this, but now imagine you’ve gone your whole life without as much as touching a sword, to now pushing yourself to train every day with one until your heart felt like it was on the brink of giving out.

“If you expect me to be ready for battle within the current century, you’ll let me continue.” You said, not even sparing a glance towards the older man behind you.

He scoffed before walking towards you and gripping your sword. “That’s enough (M/n).” He sternly instructed. “We’ll pick this up tomorrow.”

You let go off your sword and stormed off, leaving the taller to slowly trail behind as he fiddled with your blade.

“You can be quite the brat ya know?” He commented as you made your way back towards the Rengoku residence.

“And you can be quite the headache.” You pulled off your geta and made your way towards the kitchen, not before greeting Senjuro with a hug and kiss to his forehead. Afterwards, starting on dinner for you all, as well as your unwanted flashy guest.

“I don’t know why you insist on staying here. You have a home with three wives to return to.” You snidely commented as you poured stew into Senjuro’s plate.

“Well, my home doesn’t have my cute tsugoku at it now does it?” Tengen smirked at your irritated expression.

You inhaled deeply before launching his plate at him; however, he caught it rather easily and began to dig in as if nothing happened. Curse him for being a skilled hashira. “And besides, you know they’re not there.”

You took your place next to Senjuro and angrily began to eat. Stuffing your face full of stew and barely even giving yourself time to chew.

“Thank you for the meal (M/n)!” Senjuro hugged you before running off to his room, realizing the tense atmosphere he found himself in the middle of.

“If you want a real answer, I worried about you (M/n).” Tengen stated as he placed his bowl down. “You never wanted to even touch a sword, but now you push yourself to train with one every day. It’s not healthy.”

“Who cares how I was in the past. So what if I want to wield a sword now? You should only concern yourself with training me.” You glared at him.

“You won’t defeat the demon that killed Kyojuro.” He deadpanned. “You’re far too weak… and if you plan on pushing yourself like this, you’ll be dead before you even have the chance to try.”

You tighten your hands into fists and inhaled deeply, attempting to keep yourself from crying.

Tengen shifted to be seated beside you and laid your head on his shoulder. “It’s okay to cry ya know? Just let it all out.” You sobbed into his shoulder as he rubbed your back.

“Once we get back from this mission… please listen to me. I promise I’ll help you get stronger, without you pushing your body so hard.” You nodded against his body and he smiled gently down at you. He cupped your face so that know you were facing his.

“Go get some rest.” He pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Meet me at the Butterfly Estate tomorrow morning. I’ll be there to find a girl to help on this mission.” You nodded. He smiled and placed a kiss to your forehead before standing up. “See you later (M/n).”

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

“You’re an idiot you know that?” You cried as you held the only hand Tengen had left.

While you expected to engage in battle during this mission to gather information on the sound hashira’s wives, you never expected to encounter an upper moon, much less two of them. Now you sat in the aftermath of the battle: bloodied and bruised; but your injuries were nothing compared to Tengen’s. His forearm had been cut off and he was poisoned. He didn’t have much time left.

“Hey calm down.” He cupped your face gently. “Nice to see that pretty face of yours wasn’t damaged.”

“Shut up! Focus on yourself!” You yelled at him as you struggled to apply pressure to his severed arm.

“Appreciate the effort sweetheart, but it’s not this injury that’s gonna kill me.” You realized that the poison was still ravaging his body.

“Shit! I forgot my medicines back home. If only I would’ve brought them none of this would’ve-!” A small tap to your shoulder averted your attention from the sound hashira to the young kamado girl that now sat beside you.

She gently pressed her hand against Uzui before… SETTING HIM ON FIRE?! You and all of Tengen’s wives screamed in horror as you watched the older man being engulfed in pink flames. Makio, Hinatsuru, and Suma bickered amongst themselves as they yelled at Nezuko, but you focused on how Tengen’s once purple skin now began to clear.

You sat amazed as you watched Uzui heal from what was once a deadly venom.

Tengen slowly turned to you and smiled. “I guess I’m so flashy, even death can’t beat me.”

You wept as you tackled the larger man into your embrace, the others watching with endearment as the sound hashira held you. “Don’t scare me like that you asshole.” Uzui simply laughed as he wiped your tears.

“What do ya say we get out of here?” He announced to his wives as they, alongside you, helped him get up and walk away.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

You very carefully worked on reapplying the sound hashira’s bandages as he carefully held you in his lap.

“You’re really cute when you’re all focused like that.” Tengen commented once you finished wrapping him up.

“Shut up.” You walked away from him as you worked on reorganizing your ointments and medicines. Uzui chuckled to himself as he lovingly watched you work.

“Hey (M/n)?” Tengen called out which caused you to turn to face him. “Yes?” He beckoned you to come closer to him, and you obliged. Adjusting yourself to sit in his lap. “Why don’t you come and live here with us?” He offered. “What do you mean?” You looked up at him, confused as to what his true intentions were. “Will you allow me to court you and become my husband? I could use another man around the house to balance things out ya know?” He smiled gently at you.

You slowly moved off him as you attempted to put some space between you. “Is something wrong?” Tengen shot you a concerned look, looking shocked when you rejected his attempt to hold your hand. “I-I’m not- I can’t… I still…” Tengen grasped your hand. “It’s alright (M/n). I understand.” He rubbed your knuckles lovingly. “I’m sorry-“ “Don’t be.” He cut you off. “You have no reason to explain yourself.” He knew your heart still belonged to Kyojuro and he respected that. You two sat in a comfortable silence as you slowly allowed yourself to return to sit in Tengen’s lap.

“My heart still isn’t ready to move on, but I promise you, the day it is, it’ll be yours.” You looked up at him. “And I’ll be more than happy to accept it.” He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a sweet kiss to your knuckles.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

It all moved entirely too fast.

One day you were enjoying a day out on the town with Uzui and his wives, and now you watched as the demon who killed Kyojuro faded into dust.

“We did (M/n).” Tanjiro wept as he attempted to apply pressure to the wound in your stomach. “You did it.”

You smiled and coughed up blood. “You’re not injured are you?” You looked up at the scarred boy.

“No sir.” He wiped some tears from his face. “I’m glad.” You breathed deeply before realizing one of your lungs must’ve been punctured as you struggled with something as simple as that.

“You should be worried about yourself. You’re in two pieces.” Tomioka quietly stated as his sat down beside you.

“I’ll be alright.” You felt your eyelids slowly become heavier and heavier with each blink of your eyes. “Stop with this nonsense Mr. (M/n)! You’re going to die soon! Please speak with some urgency!” Tanjiro cried out. You simply chuckled and reached up to cup his face. “Why should I be sad? The killer of my lover has been killed by my efforts and now I’m presented with the opportunity to see Kyojuro again. I have no reason to be upset. In fact… I’m rather relieved. So please, don’t mourn me. Who knows how many lives I have helped to save by ridding the world of that demon. I will go on with no regrets in this world.” You explained, watching as both men before you accepted your death.

“Tanjiro, please tell Senjuro I’m sorry to give him another loss, but please assure him I will be watching over him. Me and Kyojuro both will be excited to see the great man he becomes.” Your breaths started to become much shallower. “And for Mr. Uzui, please tell him I apologize I couldn’t give him my heart, but that I will cherish all the love he still gave me in spite of my inability to do so.” Tanjiro became more panicked as he realized your heart beat was slowing down. “Please, save your breath-“ Tomioka covered his mouth, allowing you to continue. “And for you both, go out there and save the world. I’ll be cheering you on.” You shut your eyes. “Set your heart ablaze.”

And just like that, you were gone…

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

You awoke in a grassy field. The sun was bright and wind was warm, feeing almost as if it was pressing kissed against your skin every time it passed by. The tall reeds swayed in the blowing wind and brushed against your legs, slightly tickling you. Everything was perfect.

“I’m proud of you!” A familiar voice boomed through the air.

You slowly turned around as you laid your eyes on the man you have longed to see ever since that faithful night…

“K-Kyojuro…?”

“It’s me (M/n).” He smiled to you and opened his arms.

Your eyes rang and your breath hitched. It couldn’t be…?

Your shock was short-lived as you rushed towards him, immediately landing in his arms and tackling him to the soft grass. His body was as warm as you remembered. His arms immediately resting at your waist, just like he used to. His scent was as vibrant as you recalled.

It was him.

He was here.

With you.

“Where are we?” You looked around you. While it was peaceful, it was not where you recalled ever visiting.

“We’re in heaven love.” Kyojuro stated as he ran his fingers through your hair.

“Ah, I guess I died during that battle against Akaza.” The former flame hashira nodded as he held you close to him.

“No matter how you got here, you did amazing!” He smiled brightly at you, causing your heart to skip a beat. “And now we’ll never be separated again!”

You smiled back at him.

Sure, nothing has gone how you would prefer it to, but life has a way of subverting expectations, yet somehow managing to give you everything you wanted.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

Note(s): I wasn’t planning on making a part 2 to the original fic, but I had a sudden urge to write a bittersweet ending and immediately got to writing. I apologize if it’s too choppy, but I didn’t want it to be crazy long and a lot of what I originally planned was really just filler lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night!

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