#so maybe i will temporarily come back to just making gifs

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 1 - Betrayal

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, betrayal, mean!Bucky,

Hi! This kinda came outta nowhere lmao. Apologies for the angst, I just needed to do an angsty/sad fic cos I'm in my feels. As always, I appreciate your comments and reblogs. This is a two part series (standalone, not linked to any of my other fics, not the same characters as in Sweet and Sour) second part coming soon...

Wordcount: 3.7k

💔

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me, Doll. After everything we’ve been through? Was it all a lie?”

“Don’t deny it! That’s your voice on the recording! Banner proved your phone was there, it pinged there – we’ve got the proof. Even now you’re lying, you just can’t help yourself, can you?”

You had read about people being too stunned to move or speak, but you always thought it was a little embellished for dramatic effect in books. Surely, you could just push through? Surely shock did not have such a profound effect on your body that it rendered you temporarily paralysed and mute?

But you had calmly walked down the stairs towards the lobby of the house twenty minutes ago and hadn’t moved since. You just stood there now, rigid and dumbfounded, trying to understand how your entire world had just collapsed around you mere minutes beforehand. Now, you got the ‘stunned’ thing. You understood.

The aftershocks of Bucky yelling at you echoed around your head. What had just happened? You’d been sleeping peacefully just before he stormed in your shared bedroom, roaring at you before your eyes had even opened. You’d never seen him like that before. This wasn’t your Bucky, this was work Bucky. The one he’d always worked so hard to keep you from.

Why wouldn’t he listen? What did he mean, the recording? The phone ping? Your skull ached as you tried to make sense of it all. You would never do a thing like that to him. You loved him. You’d die before you purposefully tried to hurt him. Why didn’t he understand that?

You briefly considered going back upstairs, finding him wherever he was in the labyrinth of this house and straightening this whole mess out. Telling him you loved him, and he had to listen. Taking him in your arms, kissing him softly.

But the memory of the look in his eyes, the sheer rage they contained, the hatred that lay there, stopped you.

There was nothing to go back for.

You managed to pull yourself from your paralysis and move towards the hall closet near the front door. Well, it was more like a small room than a closet. An overflow from the walk-in closet just off the master bedroom upstairs. A huge space packed with a selection of Bucky’s jackets and shoes. He liked keeping some of them downstairs, getting the staff to rotate them when he wanted a change. Some of your things sat in there too - a few high-end coats, beautiful shoes. 

Correction, past tense - they were yours. Not now. 

“You’re a liar! You lied to me…Bet you loved spending my money too, didn’t you? Laughing all the way to bank as you sucked me dry…”

You screwed up your face as the memory of his voice flooded you. He was just so angry…he just wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t believe you…

You pushed it all aside and opened the closet door, darting and shuffling through the combined thousands of dollars at your fingertips - the Dior, the Gucci, the Prada. You knew it was in here somewhere.

Then you spotted a flash of red behind one of the shoe racks in the far corner. There she was. 

You moved towards it, grabbing at the red fabric and tugging. It squeezed past the luxury shoes and revealed itself as you pulled it toward you - your faithful red backpack.

A relic of your former self.

No designer labels here, just a bag that had followed you throughout your life - high school, college before you’d dropped out, various apartment moves and vacations. The once-bright crimson colour had faded over time, but it was still sturdy and strong, still TARDIS-like in how much you could pack inside. It stuck out like a sore thumb in the closet against the glamour and opulence. 

You knew how that felt.

You unzipped it and dug through the contents. A pair of jeans, a sweater, a couple of T-shirts and your beaten-up old sneakers. Some pairs of underwear and bras. A few other simple garments. All polyblends and cheap textiles. No fancy labels to be found. No fine silks or luxe fabrics that Bucky had liked to spoil you with. 

This backpack was all you had to your name when you’d moved in here. Funny how life went in circles, because once again it was all you had now.

At the time Bucky had taken it from you and insisted you throw it away - you wouldn’t need it! He’d buy you a whole walk-in closet full of clothes! 

And he did. 

A dizzying amount. More than you could ever wear. A mix of designer labels and custom pieces that fit you perfectly. Fine tailoring and exquisite details. Dresses. Blouses. Pants. Jeans. Organic cotton t-shirts. Skirts of every length. Winter coats that had cost the same as two months of your rent in the city. Underwear sets so pretty and delicate that you were almost too nervous to wear them. 

And accessories, too. Handbags. Jewellery. Shoes. Oh, the shoes. Heels, flats, boots, sandals, sneakers and slippers. Shoes for fancy parties and shoes for hikes. Shoes for the grand vacations. Shoes for just lounging around the house. Shoes you only wore for sex.

All gone, in an instant.

It didn’t matter, anyway. You always told him you didn’t need any of it. And you weren’t lying. You’d never lied to him, despite what he believed now. You were always happiest in sweats and loungewear, you just liked being comfortable and yourself. You just liked being near him.

At the time you’d talked him round about letting you keeping the backpack - nostalgia, you know? You’d had it years, after all.

But he didn’t think you needed it. That was then, this was now. Why keep an old bag when you could get anything you’d ever want? He’d buy you a hundred backpacks, he said, he’d get your initials embroidered, he’d let you design your own, he’d have your favourite designer make you one - especially for you.

But that wouldn’t be your bag. The bag that had seen everything. Your constant companion. 

You persisted. What was one little backpack in a big old house like his? It would take up no space at all. He wouldn’t even know it was there.

He relented eventually, he’d always loved how down to earth and low-key you were. He was fond of your sentimentality. You’d never been interested in his money; you’d kept the love notes he wrote you - not the shopping receipts - but he still liked to spoil you. You deserved it. 

Or so he’d told you then. But it was a different story today. 

The bag had been hastily stashed here in the closet the first day you moved in and had been there ever since, languishing amongst the Italian tailoring. 

Until now.

Part of you wondered if deep down you had always known this day would come. Maybe your gut had sensed it was all too good to be true, and you knew you needed to store a parachute for the inevitable fall. 

You sniffed, wiping away the threat of more tears. There would be time for that later. 

You looked down at the slip you wore, the slinky, silly nightie thing he’d bought you that you’d worn to bed. Not very practical now you’d be out on the street. 

Your brain suddenly switched into survival mode, most likely in an attempt to stop yourself from falling apart, but you couldn’t think about it all now. You needed to find somewhere to stay. And you couldn’t do that in a silk nightdress. 

You quickly shrugged the gown off, leaving it in a tangled pool on the floor of the closet and mentally apologising to Martha who would have to pick it up tomorrow. You grabbed the backpack and pulled on the jeans, a bra, one of the tees and the sweater. You rolled the Dollar Tree socks onto your feet. Kicked on the sneakers. It was all a little musty from being folded up in the bag for so long. But it would do. 

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the closet mirror and gasped. Aside from the wild eyes and tear-stained face, you looked like a version of yourself you hadn’t seen in a long time. Another life.

Hello again.

Next: where to go. The obvious places were Wanda’s or Nat’s homes. And you’d go there. Either would work. Either would welcome you with open arms, being the true friends that they were. Bucky’s betrayal had made you question everything you knew about love, but not the faith in your friends to catch you when you fall. That was unshakeable. 

Maybe you could alternate who you stayed with until you got back on your feet, so you weren’t too much of a burden to either. You just couldn’t face either of them tonight, you needed to be alone. 

You frantically rummaged through the backpack again until you found what you were looking for at the very bottom. You let out a little yelp of relief.

The battered old wallet had seen better days, but it was hanging on. You opened it up and breathed a sigh of relief that you’d never transferred your driver’s license into the Gucci wallet Bucky had given you on that first day. Thanks, lazy past self. It wasn’t like you’d driven much anyway, not with his all drivers on the payroll and the Uber account he’d loaded onto your phone. 

The wallet also contained debit and credit cards you’d never cancelled but hadn’t touched since Bucky gave you your very own black card. It was funny how you used to obsessively count every penny and now you could charge whatever you wanted without a second thought.

Not now, then, you corrected. You needed to get used to your life with Bucky being referred to in the past tense.

“You were working with the feds this whole time, Doll? Is that it? You were all laughing at me? Laughing at how easy it was to let you in? The cute little waitress doing her ‘oh shucks!’ routine, catching me hook, line and sinker?? God I’m such a fucking idiot…”

You stifled a sob, but continued hunting through the wallet.

You thought about your purse sitting out on the side table by the front door. You could take that with you and charge a hotel room it. He probably wouldn’t even notice such a small charge amongst his wealth, and even if he did, he wouldn’t begrudge you a few bucks for a roof over your head for one night. Would he?

No. Enough. 

He had ended it. He had implied you were a leech. He didn’t listen, he didn’t trust you. He didn’t believe you. If he truly thought you’d done what he said…he couldn’t ever have loved you. Not really. 

No more spending his money, even though you never really felt comfortable doing so anyway. The showdown tonight had confirmed your biggest fears - he’d always resented you for spending his cash. You couldn’t live like that anymore. 

Besides, you didn’t want him to know where you were. Not that you thought he’d come after you…but still. 

Fortunately, the wallet had a ream of stale bills stuffed in one of the sections. You exclaimed in excitement; you remembered them now. It had been your last day at your waitress job. You’d quit right before you came over to this place to move in, and Lou had given you the rest of the week’s pay plus tips. You had fought him on it, insisting you didn’t need it - but Lou had asked you to take it. For his sake.

“I want you to be happy, hon’,” he’d told you kindly when you had shared your plans. “And I know you’re a smart girl. But you’re getting mixed up with…a different kinda world. A…different kind of guy. You never know when this might come in handy”.

You’d frowned at him at the time, not quite sure what he meant. But as you stood there in the closet clutching the cash, you sent him a silent thank-you for his foresight. God bless Lou. He was exactly right.

You shoved the money and the wallet back into the red bag and moved from the closet into the hallway. The house was completely silent. If Bucky knew you hadn’t left yet, he’d made no effort to stop you. You admitted that a tiny part of yourself had hoped he’d come after you and admit he’d made a terrible mistake.

But he wasn’t coming. 

You slung the backpack over your shoulder as you headed to the front door. As your hand curled around the handle, you turned and took one last look at what had been your first real home. What you’d hoped would be your last home. 

You looked over at your phone which you’d tossed onto the dresser next to the closet in your panic. You briefly pondered taking it, but it wasn’t yours anymore. You’d buy a burner in the morning and get a new cell plan once you were back on your feet. 

Wow. You were surprising yourself with this pragmatism. But you also knew you were hanging on by a thread.

But the fact was - you’d survived before Bucky, and you’d survive after him, too. You always kept going. You’d been dirt poor before, you could do it again. You’d been alone before, too. You’d been alone most of your life. 

You could do it again.

‘Tenacious’ - that’s what Nat had called you once. You weren’t sure if you agreed with her at the time, but now you wanted to prove her right. You wanted to be the person she believed you to be. 

You already knew it would be much harder now, as you’d had a taste of the other side. How the other half live, as they say. Before, you didn’t know any different - you didn’t know what you were missing. Now you absolutely did. Not just the money…the comfort…but being cared for, being loved. 

On some level, you’d always known this wasn’t going to be your happy ending. You knew deep down that the house of cards would eventually fall, because it always did. 

You just wished you weren’t always right. 

You opened the door and stepped out into the dark.

💔

You walked for thirty minutes towards the city. Bucky lived on the outskirts and most of the journey had been leaving his estate along the single, winding road that led up to his property. None of his men paid you any mind. Not the ones with guns pitched up along the perimeter. Not those waiting in cars half a mile from his house, keeping an eye out for any potential threats as they did every night. They all knew who you were, so word must’ve spread fast. Otherwise they would’ve been falling over themselves to check on you and find out why the boss’ girl was out walking by herself at this time. 

You wondered if Steve or Sam had put a message out on the comms. ‘They’re over. Don’t worry about her anymore’ or words to that effect. Something cold but concise. That’s how this operation worked. 

You’d developed friendships with some of these men. Chatted to them and even brought them coffee when they kept watch on cold nights. You would watch then from the windows and tell Bucky you were worried about how freezing it was out there, and he’d laugh it off and say it was part of their job and they were fine. But they were always grateful when you came out with a thermos, always told you how much it meant to them. 

All of it forgotten in an instant, you were disposable as anything else in Bucky’s empire. You understood that now. Just like when he wanted a new car or a new watch, he’d toss away the old model - then find himself something newer and shinier. 

You walked a little further as signs of civilisation starting to appear and Bucky’s acres of land disappeared behind you. A gas station. A boarded-up strip mall. You were a little frightened walking alone by yourself, but the sheer adrenaline your situation propelled you forward. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you eventually found a tired-looking Holiday Inn up ahead. A few of the lightbulbs on the neon sign were out, meaning it spelled out H LIDAY INN. A leaky drainpipe dripped a steady stream of water over the entrance. Oh dear. 

But it would do for now. 

You took a deep breath as you went inside and checked in at the front desk, paying for a basic room with your waitress cash. The disinterested receptionist gave you the key card and sighed with boredom, barely looking at you as she barked the directions to your room and resumed Candy Crush on her phone. She didn’t seem surprised to see a lone woman turning up in the middle of the night, arriving to a roadside hotel on foot, paying for two nights in crumpled bills. She didn’t even ask to see your ID. That all gave you a pretty clear idea of what the staff were used to here.

You passed an ancient-looking PC that guests could use, which surprisingly, as it looked like it was last updated for Windows 95, had WiFi. You made a mental note to log on tomorrow to message Wanda and Nat on social media and fill them in …and hopefully get one of them to come pick you up. 

You grabbed some chips and soda from the vending machines then walked towards the elevators. Not quite the glamorous dinner you’d become accustomed too, but it would do. For now.

You hit the button to call the elevator as you slumped against the wall, the exertion of your long walk and the evening finally catching up with you. The elevator creaked and spluttered but it finally got you to your floor. 

You scanned your keycard and swung the room door open, dumping your backpack and snacks onto the wood-veneer desk before flinging yourself onto the double bed. The no-frills basics were worlds away from the fancy hotels you were used to staying in with Bucky, but it was clean and comfortable. And most important of all, it was private. 

“Just get the fuck out. We’re done here so save your tears. Over. Finito. I don’t need some liar in my bed, being sweet to my face then sticking a knife in my back – then not even having the guts to admit to it when she’s caught red-handed”.

Finally alone, you allowed yourself to weep. To mourn the end of your relationship and the man you thought Bucky was, versus the man he turned out to really be. To grieve, to bid farewell to the life you thought you had (and would continue to have) with him, and the way you thought he saw you. It wasn’t just about losing him and tarnishing your memories, it was also grieving for a future and a life you thought you were going to have. 

“I don’t care. You’ll figure something out, sweetheart. You’re just lucky this is all I’m doing after everything you’ve pulled…”

Large, wracking sobs took over your body as you curled up on the hotel bedspread and allowed yourself to feel it all. You ate the chips and drank the soda, barely tasting either. You turned on the TV and let the black and white movie on the one working channel serve as background noise. Fatigue eventually swam over you, smothering you like a weighted blanket.

Soon there were no tears left and the well had finally run dry. Mercifully, sleep finally came for you, and you gave into it without a fight. 

And you slept. And slept. 

💔

Bucky was at his desk looking at paperwork when Steve came back into his home office. He was doing his best to ignore the nauseating rush in his gut, trying his hardest not to think about you and the way your face had crumpled as he confronted you. Most likely it was just your guilt, anyway.

“Barton said the shipment arrived right on schedule, everything accounted for,” Steve advised as he poured himself a shot of bourbon from the small bar setup in the corner of the office. “And Sam’s out at the shipyard, running through the plan with Rumlow”.

He was desperate to address the elephant of the room and ask Bucky how he was holding up, but Bucky had previously insisted nobody bring your name up. So he didn’t. 

“Good,” Bucky replied curtly. “And Stark?”

“All on board. Said we can iron out the details next week”.

“Perfect, thanks”.

Steve nodded, downing the last of his glass as he placed it on the ornate tray and headed to the door.

“Oh, and Steve?” Bucky called out to him.

“Yeah, Buck?” He turned to face his friend.

“Do you….you uh know…where she went? After…what happened?” He asked, the tiniest hint of hesitation in his otherwise firm tone. Most people wouldn’t have spotted it, but most people didn’t know Bucky like Steve did. 

Steve shook his head, “No, Buck. Some of the men saw her leaving on foot a little while ago”.

Bucky swallowed but his face betrayed no emotion, “On foot?”

“Yeah. I guess she didn’t have a lot of options…” Steve shrugged.

Bucky nodded, “Yeah…I guess I just assumed she’d book a cab…or call one of her friends…” he said wistfully as he looked back down at the papers across his desk.

“She left her phone. Scott found it by the front door, next to her purse. I’m not sure she took anything with her, actually,” Steve mused.

Bucky frowned, “No…phone? No…money?”

Steve shrugged, “I don’t think so. But that’s good, right? You said yourself she was probably just playing a long-con to get your money too…”

Bucky’s gaze dropped back to the desk, his grip on the fountain pen he was holding tightened, the nib shaking from the force of his strength.

“You okay, Buck?” Steve asked tentatively as he watched the way the pen shook.

Any hint of vulnerability was immediately snuffed out as Bucky’s eyes snapped back to Steve. 

“Of course. Fine. Let me know what Sam says”.

Steve nodded, “Right. I’ll call him now”.

As Steve closed the door, the pen snapped in Bucky’s hand.

[dixons-sunshine]

Needs To Be Perfect | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Thank you @lazyneonrabbitt for the idea!

“M’tellin’ ya, Dog, it has to be perfect. I can’t screw it up. She ain’t gon’say yes if it ain’t a hundred percent perfect.”

You stopped your descend down the stairs, hiding your body behind the wall as you heard your partner’s voice fill the air. You had temporarily left just to go grab something from your room, and it appeared to you that Daryl had decided to have a heart-to-heart with his furry companion in your absence. And apparently, the aforementioned heart-to-heart included something he was planning for you. Saying that your interest was peaked would be an understatement.

You could hear Dog let out a small bark, as if trying to communicate with his owner. “Yeah, s’what m’thinkin’. She’s perfect, so she deserves the damn best proposal ever. Ain’t gon’ give her no damn sloppy one.”

You could feel your heart stop, yet speed up at the same time. Proposal? Daryl was planning on proposing? How long had he been wanting to do that? And why did he ever believe you’d say no? He could propose to you with one of his bike’s wheel nuts in a sewer and you’d say yes with zero hesitation. That’s how much you loved your partner.

“M’thinkin’a takin’ her out on my bike to that lake we found way back when. S’one’a her favourite spots. Maybe I can set up a picnic or somethin’.” Daryl stopped and let out a deep sigh. “Nah, that’s too cliche. She ain't any ordinary person. She deserves better than that. Bein’ proposed to while on a picnic... S’been done way too many times already.”

You smiled to yourself as your grip on the book—the thing you had left to go grab from your room—tightened. Your heart was attempting to pound out of your ribcage. So you hadn’t misheard him. Your partner and love of your whole life was planning on making it official. He was planning on putting a ring on your finger. He wanted you to be his wife. You felt like crying from happiness, but you knew that if you did, Daryl would be alerted to your knowledge of his plans. No, you wouldn’t spoil this for him by letting him know that you knew.

“What ‘bout takin’ her huntin’ and proposin’ to her like that?” As if disliking the idea, Dog let out a growl. “Well, what do ya suggest I do, then?!” Daryl exclaimed in frustration, before stopping and letting out another sigh. “What have I come to? Talkin’ to a dog ‘bout things it ain’t never gon’ be able to help me with. M’slippin’ badly,” Daryl mumbled to himself. “I jus’... M’terrified, Dog. I dun’ wanna screw it up. I dun’ know what I’ll do if she says no.”

Your heart broke at the sound of the evident fear in the archer’s voice. You knew that this fear stemmed from years of mistreatment. Daryl didn’t believe that he deserved you, and he was scared of the day you’d walk out on him—a day that would never come. So, you vowed to yourself you’d ensure that he wouldn’t doubt himself. You’d subtly ensure him that whatever he decided to do as his proposal, you’d say yes regardless. He deserved to have that clarity.

You stomped your foot on the stair once, loud enough so that Daryl could hear and think that you were just bounding down the stairs. You walked down the remaining few steps and walked into the living room, book in hand. Daryl looked up at you with raised eyebrows and widened eyes, clearly being afraid of being caught planning something big. You knew, of course, but you wouldn’t tell him about your knowledge of his plans.

“Sorry it took forever to come back,” you apologized, raising the book for him to see. “This took me a while to find. Did I miss anything?”

Daryl let out a small sigh of relief, and you had to refrain from chuckling. “Nah, nothin�� important. Jus’ havin’ a lil’ chat with Dog,” he told you, falling back on the couch and patting his bare chest as a way to tell you he expected more cuddles—cuddles that had been interrupted earlier due to your need to find the book.

You smiled and climbed onto the couch, settling snuggly against him and opening the book. “He say anything interesting?”

Daryl snorted as his eyes drifted to the animal that rested on the floor near the couch. “Nah.” He wrapped his arms around you and placed a tender kiss to the top of your head. “Ya gon’ read to me now or not?”

“In a minute.” You looked at Daryl and gave him a small smile. You admired his features, from the dip of his nose to the curve of his lips, his beautiful ocean coloured eyes, everything. Everything about this man was beautiful to you. “You’re stunning, Daryl.” Daryl scoffed and shook his head, but you cut him off before he could say anything. “It’s true. Don’t even try to fight me on this. You’re stunning. You’re kind, you’re smart, you’re brave, and you’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met. I’m so lucky I get to tell everyone that you’re the love of my life. I’m so lucky that I get to spend my life with you, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Daryl hesitated for a moment, before sending you a small smile. “Yeah? Ya dun’ mind spendin’ yer life with me?”

You shook your head. “Not at all.” You leaned down and pressed a soft, tender kiss to his lips before pulling back. “I love you, Daryl Dixon.”

“And I love ya. So fuckin’ much.”

And with that, some of Daryl’s worries got soothed. He was still freaking out over what he would do for a proposal, but he felt a little better knowing that you didn’t intend on leaving him anytime soon. You were the light of Daryl's existence.

And he planned on keeping you in his life for the rest of his days.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[navybrat817]

😘

Kris, look at him. I need him! 🫠

Welcome to the Meal

Pairing: William Miller x Female Reader

Summary: Will's hungry, but not for food.

Word Count: Over 600

Warnings: Established relationship, implied explicit sexual content, reference to oral sex (f. receiving), being in love and slight feels (it's me, okay?), William Miller (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Short and sweet for Sinday and inspired by a prompt @whisperlullaby provided. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Will stared unashamedly at you from across the table as you tried to look over the menu. Again. Each time you glanced at him over the flickering candlelight, you found his blue eyes staring right back at you. The retired captain had an impressive talent of not giving away a single emotion unless he wanted to. But tonight, he didn't bother to try and hide his lust.

Just because he promised to take you out for dinner, he didn't say anything about playing nice or fair.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you begged. It wasn't that you didn't like having his undivided attention because you loved it, but how did he expect you to get through the meal when he looked about two seconds away from tossing the table aside to get to you? “Please.”

Amusement flickered in Will’s eyes, his voice low and teasing when he asked, “Like what?”

You huffed because he knew exactly how he was looking at you. He wanted to devour you and he wanted to hear you say it. “Like I’m dinner.”

“Maybe I’m hungry,” Will said.

“Well, I'm not dinner,” you said, closing the menu.

“Yes, you are. And dessert,” he smirked, licking his lips as he leaned back in his chair. “Breakfast, too, and you know how hungry I get first thing in the morning.”

You suppressed a shiver as you recalled how his eyes dragged along your body earlier that day. He had you sprawled out naked in his bed, his large hands gripping your thighs and pushing them apart so he could stare at your exposed, glistening pussy. He licked his lips like he was eager to taste you and you clenched around nothing before he dipped his head. The moan you let out when his tongue moved between your wet lips sounded a lot like his name.

The man took pride in everything he did and that included eating pussy.

“How are you always hungry?” You asked. You understood his need whenever the two of you reunited after being apart, but he was insatiable any day of the week that ended in “y”.

“Because you're delicious, sweetheart,” he answered, your heart skipping a beat as scratched along his short beard. Facial hair was never a “make or break” deal with you until him. You longed to feel him bury his head between your legs again and soothe your ache. “I can't get enough.”

You took a moment to admire the love of your life when you realized he wasn't just talking about your body. Some days he held you a little too close because he knew what it was like to lose, but you loved him all the more for it. He let you in because he trusted you when it didn't come easy. Having his heart was an honor.

Who wouldn't want William Miller to love them?

“I can't get enough of you either,” you said, reaching across the table to take his hand. He gripped it like a lifeline and it wasn't just lust you saw when you gazed into his eyes this time.

You saw paradise. Home. Love.

Everything he wanted and didn't think he deserved until you.

“Are we ready to order?” The server asked, temporarily breaking the spell.

You nodded after a moment, your heart full as you squeezed Will’s hand. “I think so, but we’re going to take our meal to-go. If that's okay.”

“Of course,” the server said.

The small smile on Will’s face told you that was his plan all along and you didn't mind.

Besides, who were you to keep your starving man from eating?

I love him, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[amethystarachnid]

Can you write for me Amnesia trope from Marvel Bingo with Tony/Fem reader? Tony is a little injured after a mission and he loses his memory, when reader is going to see him (wife or girlfriend) he won't recognize her but he'll immediately fall for her all over again 🥺 she thinks it's absolutely cute that he didn't recognize her but soon he'll recover his memory and blush so hard when reader shows him his videos of him all smitten by her hahahaha ❤️ and Tony saying he'll alwyas fall for her 🥺 (some spicy kisse maybe?)

ALWAYS

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: Because of an injury Tony temporarily loses his memories of you, his wife, and you're determined to make him gain them back. Do you really need to do so when he has already fallen back in love with you?

ᯓ★ TW(s): memory loss and clingy Tony

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ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The beeping. It’s the first thing you notice when you step into the hospital room—the insistent, steady beep of the heart monitor that Tony’s hooked up to. It’s steady, strong, and for that, you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The smell of antiseptic stings your nose, reminding you that, despite Tony's resilience, he's as vulnerable as any of them in situations like these.

The mission had gone wrong in ways you didn’t see coming. Stark Industries had developed tech that a rival group decided they wanted to “borrow”—forcefully. What was supposed to be a simple extraction turned into a messy firefight. But, like always, Tony had pushed you to evacuate, promising he’d be right behind you. Instead, an explosion threw him from his suit, leaving him vulnerable to the final assault. He had barely gotten out before going down hard.

Now, you’re here, nerves raw and trembling as you hover by the doorway, watching him.

Tony is sitting up, but he seems…distant. Disoriented, maybe. His eyes are half-lidded, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s trying to make sense of something in the middle distance. It’s unnerving because you’re used to a Tony whose attention burns, even when he’s exhausted, half-buried in his lab, or just waking up. He sees everything.

But not this time. And for some reason, he doesn’t see you.

“Mrs. Stark?”

You turn as the doctor enters, offering you a sympathetic look. It’s a look that’s meant to ease you into news you know you don’t want to hear.

“Is he…awake?”

The doctor nods, gesturing you toward the chair by Tony’s bed. “He’s stable. His vitals are strong. The issue, Mrs. Stark, is that there appears to be some level of memory loss.”

The words clang in your ears, foreign and cold, completely out of place in the world you’ve built with Tony. “What do you mean by ‘memory loss’?”

She sighs, glancing at Tony before she speaks. “Memory loss is complicated. From what I’ve gathered, Mr. Stark has retained his long-term memories and most of his professional knowledge. But, due to the trauma and subsequent disorientation, there’s a block on more recent events…particularly in his personal life.”

Your stomach drops, and you take a deep breath, fighting to keep your voice steady. “He doesn’t remember me, does he?”

“I’m afraid not,” she says softly. “In many cases, memories return with time and familiar cues. Given Mr. Stark’s particular cognitive resilience, I have high hopes for recovery. But until then, he may…struggle with recognition and personal connections.”

You nod slowly, trying to take it all in. In all the battles, the missions, the threats, this is somehow scarier. Because it’s not just his body that’s wounded; it’s your life together that’s fractured.

When the doctor leaves, you take a step forward, but your feet feel leaden, hesitant. And for once, you don’t know what to say. This isn’t just Tony after a rough mission. This is your husband, and he doesn’t know you.

Finally, you muster the courage and approach the bed, offering him a soft, tentative smile. “Hey there, stranger.”

He looks up, his gaze sharp but confused, and something in his eyes flickers with a shade of recognition—a spark that leaves you hoping. But then he blinks, and it’s gone.

“Do I, uh, know you?” His tone is polite, curious, but there’s a guardedness to it, as if he’s unsure if he’s supposed to recognize you. You don’t miss the way his eyes dart over you, taking you in, and a pang of sadness tugs at your heart as you realize he’s assessing you the way he might a stranger.

You laugh softly, forcing down the lump in your throat. “You could say that. I’m…” You hesitate, wondering if it’s too much to say it outright, but the words slip out before you can stop them. “I’m your wife.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he stares at you, stunned. “My wife?”

“Yes.” You smile, more gently this time, as though that will ease him into the idea. “For almost three years now.”

Tony blinks, and you can see his mind racing, struggling to process this unexpected piece of information. He gives a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. I…you’re telling me I’m married to you?”

His shock is genuine, and for a moment, a bubble of laughter escapes you. It’s that classic Tony Stark reaction—equal parts disbelief and awe, as if he can’t quite believe his good luck.

“Yes,” you say again, and this time, there’s a hint of amusement in your voice. “You managed to convince me somehow.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a lopsided grin that’s both endearing and achingly familiar. “Wow. I must be one hell of a salesman.”

“Oh, you are.” The laughter fades from your voice as you take a step closer, unable to resist the need to be nearer to him, even if he doesn’t remember you right now. “You’re the best.”

For a moment, he studies you, his gaze flickering with something like curiosity, maybe even admiration. It’s a glimmer of the old Tony, the man who made you feel like the only person in the room, no matter the crowd or chaos. But here, with him looking at you as a stranger might, there’s something raw and beautiful about it, too. He’s falling in love with you all over again, right in front of your eyes.

“Well, I guess I should feel lucky,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips. “If you’re half as amazing as you look, then…yeah. Lucky guy.”

The words make your heart flutter, and despite everything, you feel a warmth spread through you, easing the tightness in your chest. He’s still Tony, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“Want to know a little about us?” you ask, hoping that maybe, somehow, it will trigger something—some hidden memory or spark of recognition.

He nods, settling back against the pillow. “Please. Enlighten me. I’m curious how a guy like me managed to marry someone like you.”

“Well,” you start, a smile tugging at your lips as you pull up a chair beside him. “For starters, we didn’t exactly get along at first.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Did I say something to offend you?”

“You…may have.” You grin, remembering the banter, the stubborn disagreements, the sparks that seemed to ignite every time you were in a room together. “You were cocky, stubborn, a little arrogant.”

He chuckles. “That sounds about right.”

“But somehow,” you continue, your voice softening, “you managed to break down all my walls. You made me feel like I was the only person who mattered, even if you acted like you were just being yourself.”

His gaze lingers on you, and there’s a warmth there, something cautious but undeniably present. “I’m sorry I don’t remember that.”

“Don’t be.” You place a gentle hand over his, feeling the faint warmth of his skin against yours. It’s a familiar gesture, one you’ve done a thousand times before, but this time, it feels different—new, almost shy. “You’ll remember. And until you do, we’ll make new memories. Starting right now.”

He looks down at your hand on his, and you can see the faintest flush of color in his cheeks. For a man who’s usually so sure of himself, so confident in every move he makes, it’s endearing to see him look almost…nervous.

“So, tell me more about this…our life,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s trying to hold onto the pieces he has left.

“Well,” you say, smiling as you think of the little things that make up your life together. “We spend a lot of time in the lab together, actually. Even if you’re always tinkering, working on some new project, you always have time for me.”

“Do I? Sounds like a good husband.” There’s a touch of pride in his voice, and it makes your heart ache a little—because he doesn’t even know the half of it yet.

“A very good husband,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with all the love you feel for him. “The best.”

And there it is—that flicker in his eyes, like he’s starting to see it, to feel it. It’s as if, for just a moment, he knows you, feels that connection.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “For being here. For…all of this.”

You squeeze his hand gently, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. “You’re my husband, Tony. I’d do anything for you.”

And as you sit there, hands entwined, you realize that even if he has to fall in love with you all over again, you’ll be right here, waiting.

The drive back from the hospital is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Tony stares out the window, taking in the blur of city lights as you weave through the streets toward your shared home. Occasionally, you catch him glancing at you, his expression somewhere between awe and disbelief, as if he’s still wrapping his head around the idea that you’re his wife, that he’s returning to a life he doesn’t remember but that he somehow…wants.

When you finally pull into the long driveway leading up to your home, his eyebrows shoot up. Stark Tower looms ahead, its sleek, modern design stark against the night sky. The iconic "STARK" sign gleams with familiar grandeur. He lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes, too—something like pride.

“So, this is…our place?” he asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Well, your place, technically. But I’ve definitely made it my own.”

Tony chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you’re reminded of all the times he’s teased you about “taking over” his tower with touches of your personality: the cozy reading nook in his office, the garden on the roof you insisted on installing, even the art pieces scattered throughout the building. And despite his teasing, he’d always seemed proud of how much of yourself you’d poured into his space.

“Well,” he says, stepping out of the car, “if you’re half as great at interior design as you are at, uh, marrying billionaires, I think I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“Oh, just you wait,” you say with a playful smirk as you lead him inside.

The entryway is a testament to the sleek, modern style Tony’s known for—polished floors, clean lines, an air of sophistication mixed with warmth. But there are little touches here and there that mark it as your home too: framed photos from the missions you’ve tackled together, a throw blanket draped over the couch, even a small shelf of books beside the entrance to the main living area.

Tony follows you, his gaze flitting over each detail with that trademark Stark intensity, taking it all in as if he’s studying a new project. When his eyes land on a photo of the two of you at a beach, he pauses. You remember that day so vividly: you were laughing, caught in a candid moment as he held you close, your hair whipped by the wind.

“Is that…us?” he asks, a softness in his voice that tugs at your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, stepping closer to him. “A couple of years ago. We were on a vacation you forced me to take.”

“I forced you?” he repeats, quirking an eyebrow. “Was I…was I that difficult?”

“Only a little,” you tease, nudging him gently. “You hated the idea of not working for a few days. But we made the best of it.”

His lips curve into a small smile as he stares at the photo a moment longer before turning his gaze back to you. “I look…happy. Really happy.”

“You were,” you say softly. “We both were.”

He swallows, his gaze lingering on you, and for a moment, you can almost feel the weight of all the memories he’s lost. But there’s a warmth in his eyes, a flicker of something that feels like a connection—even if it’s new to him.

You clear your throat and gesture toward the hallway. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest.”

You lead him down the hall, pointing out the various rooms, each one filled with a mix of his tech and your touches: the library with shelves overflowing with both your favorite books, the small lounge you use for watching movies together, and finally, your bedroom.

When you open the door, he stands in the doorway, taking it in. The room is a blend of Tony’s sophisticated taste and your own comfortable style, the soft lighting casting a warm glow over the neatly made bed, the nightstand stacked with a few of Tony’s reading materials, and the little tray of lotions and skincare items you keep on your side.

“This…feels nice,” he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over the room. He takes a step inside, running a hand over the bedspread, almost as if testing its texture. “I don’t know why, but I feel…calm here.”

You smile, moving to stand beside him. “It’s our space. Your favorite spot after a long day, whether you’d admit it or not. You always said it’s the one place that lets you truly relax.”

He chuckles, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Yeah, well, if you say so. I…believe you.”

For a moment, there’s silence, and you can feel the weight of the day settling over both of you. He’s exhausted, and so are you.

“Do you…want to rest?” you ask, realizing he might be overwhelmed with all of this new information.

“Actually, I think I’d like to keep looking around,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I just…don’t want to miss anything. It feels like I’ve lost a huge chunk of my life, and I want to piece it together, however I can.”

You nod, understanding. You feel a pang of sadness but try to hide it. “Well, I’ll be here. We can take it slow. One room at a time.”

Together, you move back down the hallway, stopping in the kitchen next. Tony’s gaze catches on the coffee maker, and he raises his eyebrows with a look of genuine excitement. “Please tell me I still drink coffee.”

You laugh, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Oh, you drink enough coffee to fuel a small army. In fact…” You open a cabinet, revealing an impressive array of coffee beans, grounds, and Tony’s prized espresso machine. “You’re particular about it. You like to experiment.”

He nods, visibly impressed. “I see I have good taste. I’d like to think I’m a genius when it comes to coffee.”

“Among other things,” you reply, grinning as you start to brew a fresh pot, the familiar hum of the machine filling the room.

As the coffee brews, Tony leans against the counter, watching you with that spark of interest you remember so well. But now, it feels new, raw, as if he’s falling for you all over again and doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“So,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes, “you said we didn’t get along at first. How did I change your mind?”

You chuckle, handing him a mug and savoring the warmth as you lean back against the counter beside him. “It wasn’t any one thing. You…surprised me. I kept expecting you to be this arrogant genius with no time for anyone, but then you started showing up at my door with random inventions, making coffee runs at three a.m. with me, and bringing me little gifts from your travels.” You smile, remembering each moment as if it’s engraved in your memory. “You just…wore me down, I guess.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, mulling over your words, and you see the warmth in his expression, a flicker of understanding, even if it’s only a shadow of his former self.

“Well, then,” he says, his tone soft, “I’m glad I wore you down.”

His words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, the kitchen feels smaller, more intimate, filled with a sense of closeness that’s been there since the moment you met but now feels refreshingly new.

Tony shifts his weight, looking suddenly unsure. “So…do I get to sleep in our bed tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling a little as you nod. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As you walk back to the bedroom together, side by side, you feel a quiet sense of peace settle over you. Tony might not remember you—at least not yet—but he’s here, and he’s yours, and somehow, you’ll find a way to rebuild together.

You slip into bed, settling under the covers, and Tony follows suit, lying beside you with a soft sigh. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches over, his hand brushing against yours beneath the covers. You entwine your fingers with his, and even though he doesn’t remember the countless nights you’ve fallen asleep like this, it feels natural.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, his voice soft.

“Goodnight, Tony,” you murmur back, your heart swelling with hope.

As the city lights outside cast a gentle glow across the room, you lie there, hand in hand, feeling the warmth of him beside you. And for the first time since the accident, you feel a flicker of reassurance.

The days start to blur together in a rhythm that feels both familiar and new. Tony’s memory isn’t coming back all at once, but he’s recovering it in little flashes, bits and pieces of who he used to be, of who you are to each other. And even though some of these memories are fleeting, almost insignificant, they build something solid between you—something that’s real and growing stronger with every passing moment.

It begins with breakfast one morning.

You’re standing at the stove, cooking eggs and listening to Tony talk about his latest gadget idea. He’s been getting back into work, tinkering here and there in the lab, and he always comes out in the morning with some grand plan or concept. It’s one of the things you’ve missed most—his enthusiasm, his endless curiosity, the way he lights up when he talks about creating something new. You smile, flipping the eggs onto plates and setting them on the counter.

“You know, I don’t think I ever realized how much you put up with me,” he says, leaning against the counter with that lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “All my late nights, random ideas, and, uh, probably a few accidental explosions.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you hand him his plate. “Oh, trust me, I’ve put up with plenty. But you make it worth it.”

He takes a bite, nodding as though savoring the taste. “You know…this feels familiar,” he says after a moment, frowning slightly. “Mornings like this. I used to sit here and watch you cook, didn’t I?”

“Every morning you didn’t have your face buried in a new project,” you reply softly, watching him carefully.

He pauses, that spark of recognition in his eyes growing, as if he’s trying to hold onto the memory, to make it solid. And then he’s looking at you, really looking at you, with a tenderness that feels almost shy. It’s a vulnerability you rarely see from Tony, and it makes your heart ache in the best way.

“I think I remember something else,” he murmurs, stepping around the counter to stand in front of you. “I remember sitting here and…thinking about how lucky I was.”

Your breath catches as he reaches out, his fingers grazing your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw. His touch is tentative, almost reverent, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Tony…” you whisper, feeling your pulse quicken.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss that’s both familiar and electrifying, like he’s rediscovering you for the first time. His hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his mouth moves against yours, slow and intense, like he’s savoring every second. When he pulls back, his eyes are darker, filled with something that looks like a mix of wonder and awe.

“I don’t remember everything,” he says softly, his voice rough, “but I don’t think I need to. This feels right.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. “It is right,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss him again.

The memory flashes continue over the next few days, each one bringing him closer to the person he used to be. They’re small, fleeting things—a song that triggers a faint memory of a dance in the living room, the scent of his cologne reminding him of the night you first told him you loved him. Each one brings with it a sense of déjà vu, a feeling that tugs at his heart and pulls him closer to you.

One evening, you’re both sitting on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as you watch a movie together. It’s an old favorite, something you’ve watched countless times, and Tony seems to relax into the familiarity of it. His hand absentmindedly traces patterns on your thigh, and you can feel his warmth, his closeness, and it makes you feel grounded, steady.

Suddenly, he chuckles, looking down at your legs. “I remember this. You used to do this all the time. You’d kick off your shoes and practically sprawl across the couch.”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “And you used to pretend to be annoyed, even though you secretly loved it.”

He raises an eyebrow, that playful smirk you know so well tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’m sure I did.”

You shift, leaning closer to him, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, his eyes filled with both affection and curiosity, that makes you feel bold, like you’re rediscovering each other in a way that’s fresh and exhilarating.

“Can I tell you something?” you murmur, your voice soft.

“Anything,” he says, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“When we first met, I thought you were this…impossible genius with no time for anyone,” you confess, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. “But then you’d look at me like this, with this softness, like I was the only person in the world.”

He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Maybe you are.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, his mouth is on yours, capturing you in a kiss that’s anything but shy. It’s slow and deep, his hands sliding up your back as he pulls you into him, your bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly. His kisses are gentle yet intense, each one leaving you breathless, as if he’s trying to make up for all the lost time, all the memories he doesn’t yet have but that you both feel so deeply.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing heavily, hearts racing. He smiles, that teasing glint in his eyes as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why do I feel like I’ve kissed you a million times?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “Like I can’t get enough?”

“Maybe because you have,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. “And I’ll never get enough of you, either.”

He chuckles, a sound that’s warm and filled with affection as he kisses you again, softer this time, more lingering, like he’s savoring every second. His lips move slowly over yours, his hands gentle as they cradle your face, as if he’s memorizing the feel of you, the way you fit together.

Over the next few days, the memories come more frequently, little fragments of your life that make him pause, that bring a flicker of recognition to his eyes. Sometimes it’s just a look he gives you, a soft smile that feels so familiar it makes your heart ache. Other times, it’s a touch—a hand on your back, a gentle brush of his fingers against yours—that reminds you of all the little ways he’s shown his love over the years.

And every time he remembers something, he falls in love with you a little more.

One night, as you’re both lying in bed, you reach over to turn off the light, but Tony stops you, his hand catching yours. He turns to you, his gaze soft but intense, filled with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.

“I might not remember everything yet,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing your cheek, “but I know that I love you. I don’t need memories to know that.”

You feel a lump in your throat, a warmth spreading through you that’s both comforting and thrilling. “I love you, too, Tony,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his hand. “No matter what. I always have, and I always will.”

His smile is tender, filled with a gratitude that makes you realize just how lucky you both are, how strong this connection is between you. He leans in, kissing you with a softness that melts away all the uncertainty, all the fear that’s lingered since the accident.

And as you lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realize that this isn’t just a return to the life you had before. It’s something new, something deeper and more meaningful, a love that’s growing stronger every day. It’s a love that doesn’t need memories to survive because it’s written into every touch, every glance, every kiss you share.

The morning Tony’s memories come flooding back, it feels both surreal and inevitable. He wakes up beside you, his gaze fixed on the ceiling for a long moment before he turns to look at you, his expression a mixture of wonder, relief, and something deeper—something vulnerable. When he speaks, his voice is low, as if he’s afraid of breaking the spell.

“I remember everything,” he murmurs, his hand finding yours beneath the covers. His thumb traces gentle patterns on your knuckles, as though he’s grounding himself in the reality of the present. “Every detail, every moment. I remember…you.”

You blink away the tears that threaten to spill over, smiling as you reach up to cup his face. “You’re really back,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I missed you.”

He gives a soft laugh, his hand covering yours as he presses his forehead to yours. “You never really lost me, you know? And I… I missed you, too. Even when I didn’t remember all of it, I knew. I knew you were everything to me. I'd always fall for you.”

You fall into his arms, both of you holding each other tightly, like you’re afraid to let go. And in that embrace, you feel the weight of all those lost days lift, leaving only a warmth that radiates between you. He’s here, fully, and the two of you are whole again.

Later, you’re curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over both of you, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders as you cuddle into his side. You’ve both been talking, recounting memories, laughing at the more amusing fragments that came back to him in flashes. And then, an idea strikes you.

“Tony,” you say, glancing up at him with a mischievous grin, “there’s something you need to see.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, really? And what might that be?”

You grab your phone from the coffee table, pulling up a series of videos you took during his days without memories. Each one holds moments that, at the time, you’d been scared would be all you had left—little fragments of his affection, of the new ways he showed his love for you while he was rediscovering himself.

“Brace yourself,” you say, hitting play on the first video.

In it, Tony is sitting across from you at the kitchen table, his eyes sleepy and his hair a mess. He’s holding a mug of coffee, and he looks up at you with the softest, most adoring expression, blinking slowly like he can barely believe you’re real. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his voice a murmur, his gaze fixed on you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the entire world. “How did I get so lucky?”

The Tony beside you lets out a surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that…well, cuddly before.”

“Oh, that’s just the beginning,” you say, grinning as you play the next video.

This one shows him lying on the couch, his head in your lap as you’re reading a book. He’s practically burrowed into you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried against your stomach. Every now and then, he looks up at you with these wide, affectionate eyes, and even without memories, he’s the picture of absolute adoration.

“Is that…me?” Tony asks, a touch of disbelief in his voice as he watches himself look up at you like that. “I’m like a…like a giant puppy.”

“Oh, you were,” you laugh, rubbing his arm affectionately. “I have so many videos like this. You’d barely let me out of your sight. I think losing your memories made you even clingier.”

He snorts, shaking his head as he pulls you closer. “Well, can you blame me? I mean, look at you. Not remembering you was bad enough—I guess I was just making sure I didn’t forget you again.”

The next video is of him in bed, lying half-asleep with his arm stretched out, reaching for you. His voice, groggy and low, calls your name softly, and you hear yourself laugh from behind the camera as you step into view. When you do, he pulls you into the bed, wrapping his arms around you like he never wants to let go. He sighs in contentment, pressing his lips to your forehead and murmuring something unintelligible, and even watching it now, you feel that familiar warmth spread through your chest.

Tony, watching beside you, is silent for a long moment, his gaze softened as he watches himself cling to you like that. When the video ends, he turns to you, a tenderness in his expression that takes your breath away.

“I can’t believe I didn’t remember you,” he whispers, his fingers brushing your cheek. “But even when I couldn’t…I needed you.”

You place a hand over his, smiling softly. “I think a part of you did remember, in a way. You were still you—maybe a little cuddlier than usual,” you tease, “but you were still you.”

His lips curve into a playful grin. “So, I was clingy, huh? Was I any good at it?”

“Oh, you were very good at it,” you say, laughter bubbling up. “I mean, I kind of got used to waking up with you practically draped over me. I’m almost going to miss it.”

His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Well, if you liked clingy Tony, I think I can accommodate,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear as he tightens his hold on you.

You giggle, curling your arms around his neck as he presses a series of soft, lingering kisses along your jaw. “Mmm, maybe I did like clingy Tony,” you whisper, your fingers threading through his hair.

He chuckles, his lips trailing down to your neck, his hands running up and down your sides as he nuzzles into you, his warmth enveloping you. “Well then, Mrs. Stark, it looks like you’re in luck.”

His mouth finds yours, and he kisses you deeply, his hands gentle but insistent as he pulls you closer. The kiss is soft and tender, but there’s an intensity to it, a passion that feels even stronger now that he has all his memories back. It’s like he’s making up for lost time, savoring every second, every touch, every shared breath.

When he pulls back, he leans his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t think I could ever let you go again,” he says, his hands sliding to your waist as he holds you close. “Every second without you felt…wrong, somehow. Now that I know everything, it’s like my whole world is back.”

You smile, brushing your fingers along his jaw as you gaze into his eyes. “Then don’t let go,” you whisper, your heart racing as he closes the small distance between you again, his mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s both familiar and exhilarating.

soft Tony is just a baby <3 if you liked the story leave a like and a reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more!

[drabblesandimagines]

Hi there, I would like to request Cloud, if thats okay. A sparring session that leads into an unexpected kiss?

Just read you are feeling under the weather, hope you feel better soon!

Sweet anon, I'm sorry this took me literally months! Please lemme know what you think x

It’s late as you leave your room at Stargazer Heights, pulling the door closed behind you with a gentle click. The weight of your new sword still feels unnervingly foreign on your back as you head down the stairs carefully, not wanting to disturb any of your neighbours’ sleep with your heavy footfalls.

Just because you couldn’t sleep didn’t mean theirs should suffer in return.

Your beloved, trusty sword, after many years of faithful service in the Watch, had snapped clean in two after a particularly good thwack against a hard-shelled creature whilst on a job in the scrapyard earlier that day. If that wasn’t enough, it just had to happen in front of Cloud Strife, the blonde ex-Soldier who had joined the Avalanche ranks - temporarily, at least – and who you were somewhat hoping to impress with your mastery of the blade as common ground over the past few weeks.

“You’d be good for him, you know?” Tifa had teased over the bar one night, catching you staring a little too long as he sat down the opposite end, nursing a drink. You’d have told her to hush if Barret’s voice wasn’t booming around the establishment, meaning you were lucky to have even heard her comment in the first place.

Instead, you answer flustered. “What? I… He’s your… No!”

“I don’t like him like that, sweetie.” She’d reassured, patting your hand with a smile. “Plus, I’m pretty sure he likes you.”

“Me?” You scoff, shaking your head. “I don’t think he’s aware I exist, not with how Jessie has been all over him.”

“Mm.” Tifa purses her lips in thought before they pulled back into a knowing smile – she’d caught the merc’s gaze flickering in your direction before it settled back on the drink before him. “No, I think Cloud’s warming up to you. Let me see what I can do.”

“Tifa-“

Biggs’ warm hand wrapped around your arm and tugged you up from the bar and away from your protest in an instant. “Come on, you owe me a rematch and I’ve finally convinced Wedge to let us have a round.”

You concede, destroying Biggs at darts once again would be a good distraction from the blonde at the bar. Besides, what could Tifa do anyway?

--

What Tifa could do, apparently, was make it so whenever Cloud took on a job, Biggs or Wedge would insist you tag along to help him navigate the area – sometimes with Tifa, sometimes without – and that’s what had led you to today, stuck deep within the scrapyard with a broken blade.

You’d never been any good with your fists, nor could aim a gun straight – despite tips from Tifa and Biggs over the years – so, reluctantly, you’d been relegated to the back line for the rest of the outing. At the most, you could fling a spell or two from the materia still equipped in the broken hilt when you could.

Unfortunately, it meant you didn’t have anything really to defend yourself with whilst the materia recharged. A nasty hit from a retreating drake had sent you tumbling backwards, head literally over heels. It dived back down at you, realizing you were now easy prey, ready to go for a nasty bite when a certain blonde merc’s sword dug into its side, sending it flying over in Tifa’s direction who finished it off with a perfectly executed roundhouse kick – all before your life could flash before your eyes.

“Are you okay?” Cloud crouches in front of you, his sword already sheathed, and places a hand on your arm as he awaits your answer. His expression, usually stoic and unreadable, is marred by a slight furrow in his brow as he looks you over with concerned Mako-blue eyes.

He must find you at least tolerable, you’d decided, as he didn’t seem to protest as much when you joined them on jobs like this around the slums.

Though maybe not ever again after today’s pathetic display.

“Yeah,” you nod, feeling foolish. “Still in one piece. Thanks for that.”

“Don’t mention it.” He shrugs and gets to his feet, offering you his hand in assistance.

You take it, relishing the feeling as his gloved fingers wrap around your palm. He pulls you up with a little too much gusto – or maybe underestimates his own strength - sending you stumbling forward. You try and catch your balance, only to find your hand placed firmly against his chest, his other hand now on the small of your back in alarm.

“Uh…”

“S-sorry,” you stutter out and retreat back, bowing your head as your face feels horrendously warm. Somewhere behind you, Tifa poorly attempts to hide a giggle.

“It’s fine.” His tone is back to his usual curt manner. “Come on - we should head back.” And without another word, Cloud spins on his heels and storms off ahead.

“Cloud, wait up!” Tifa calls, threading her arm through yours to pull you along with her. “He’ll get there – don’t worry.”

--

You’d taken the blade in to the weapons store below the Watch’s HQ after reporting in, Cloud and Tifa following behind. The proprietor dutifully inspected it for a few moments before deeming it beyond reasonable repair - said he could re-forge it, but it would only last a hit or two before it snapped in two again and he didn’t want the bad advertisement. He’d offered some gil for the scrap metal value and waved to the selection of his ready-made wares. Even with the gil he’d proposed and from your own pocket, the prices made your eyes water.

“Can I pay in instalments?”

He scoffs.

“You know I’m good for it.”

“This ain’t a charity, kid.”

“Here.” Cloud had stepped forward then, placing a pouch of gil on the counter. “That should cover it.”

“What?” Your eyes widened in disbelief. Cloud had been hounding Tifa and Barret for his pay for days and you knew he still hadn’t received all of it yet. “No, I couldn’t – that’s yours.”

“You need a weapon.” He shrugs, Tifa bouncing on her heels behind him at his act of generosity, a told you so smile plastered across her face. “Pay me back in instalments, if you want. I don’t care.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods, crossing his arms. “You’re good with a blade, it would be a waste for you not to have one.”

Your scalp tingles at the compliment.

The blades all felt lighter - maybe you’d grown stronger over time? - though they were thinner in width in comparison to your old blade. You’d performed a cautionary test swing of each towards the back of the shop but they all felt off, unbalanced. Begrudgingly, one felt a little less odd to wield so you’d settled with that, thankful it was a mid-range price of the selection so you hadn’t needed the entirety of Cloud’s gil pouch.

“I’ll pay you back as soon as I can – I promise.”

Cloud shrugs, as usual.

--

You swing at the tower of boxes you’d assembled in the middle of the wasteland, trying to be precise and knock out the one in the middle, but as soon as you release the momentum you nearly lose your balance, missing entirely. If you were in combat, it would’ve been a pathetic sight to behold. Thankfully, you were the only one to wit-

“Hi.”

You jump, spinning on your heels to face the blonde mercenary, holding your blade aloft in a defensive stance to an unimpressed face.

“Cloud! Hi.” Your heart is pounding at his sudden arrival – how could you not have heard him approaching? You lower your blade to rest on the floor. “Sorry, did I wake you when I left?”

“No, I couldn’t sleep so I heard you leave.” He folds his arms, looking a little displeased. “You shouldn’t be out here on your own, you know? It’s not safe.”

“I wanted to get some practice in, that’s all.” You look down at the sword in your hand in demonstration. “There’s been no more wererats here since you cleaned out the nest either, so it’s safe enough.”

“It’s not just fiends I’m talking about.”

That’s true – unfortunately, you weren’t a complete stranger to the troopers that often patrolled the slums. All it took was one to recognize your face and you’d be dragged to Shinra HQ faster than you could blink.

“I really need to get used to the weight, though. Barret wants to strike any day and-“

“Fine. I’ll spar with you.”

You weren’t expecting that. “Really?”

“Why not?” He reaches back for his sword, before swinging it out in front of him playfully. “Unless you’re scared.”

You bite your lip in a smile. “Bring it on, Strife.”

Cloud holds back at first, acting more as a training dummy for you to swing at. He doesn’t even need to deflect any of your blows at the beginning, but as you become familiar with the weight and how the new blade swings, finally he starts to raise his sword in return, the sound of metal clashing echoing through the air before one firm blow sends you toppling back, the Buster Sword now inches above your neck.

“Better.” He pulls back his sword and offers you his hand, which you gratefully accept, bracing yourself for his strength this time to avoid what had happened that afternoon. “Try again.”

You’re not sure how much time passes like that, but steadily your confidence in your weapon grows and it turns into a proper sparring bout, both giving it your absolute all. As your blades clash, crossed in front of each other’s faces, you risk a smile at the blonde merc. Suddenly, Cloud’s forearms lose their tension, meaning you get an upperhand you were not expecting. You swing your sword out to the right and fall forward, Cloud toppling backwards, his sword to his right, and his head smacking into the ground as you fall on top of him.

“Oh… Shiva,” you gasp, heart pounding, your thighs somehow straddling around his. “Are you hurt?”

Cloud doesn’t reply, staring up at you in bemusement as he tries to catch his breath.

“Cloud?” You lean down, planting your hands either side of his head for balance.

He lifts his head, suddenly, and presses a kiss to your lips.

Your arms go limp and you drop into his embrace, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you close as you return the kiss, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, fingers curling into his blonde hair, blissfully lost in the moment until there is an odd, inhuman sound from behind you.

Cloud sits bolt upright, twisting you as he does so you’re sat in his lap, one arm still wrapped tightly around your waist and, somehow, the Buster Sword back in his other hand as he holds it out in defense.

A cat sits a few meters in front of the two of you, flicking its tail back and forth curiously. You feel his muscles relax beneath your touch at the realization. You get to your feet then, grabbing your blade as you do so and securing it against your back. Though you feel flustered, you can’t turn down the opportunity to offer Cloud an assisting hand this time.

To your delight, he accepts, somehow twisting it as he stands in order to intertwine your fingers within his.

“We… We, er, should get back.” He mumbles.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

He leads you back through the tunnel, silently, fingers still laced, and back towards Stargazer Heights. You climb the stairs together before he brings you to a stop outside your door, hesitating. Your stomach twists – does he regret what happened? Are you just to wake up tomorrow morning and it will feel like nothing but a dream?

A firm squeeze of your hand brings you back to the present, as if he could read your thoughts. “I’ve been thinking about that for a while.” Cloud whispers, cautious of his voice carrying through the neighbours’ door. “It’s… unfortunate that we were interrupted.”

You place a hand on your door handle and smile, coyly. “Would you like to come in?”

Cloud smirks. “Do you have any pets?”

--

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

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[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.8

WandaNatxReader

Word Count: 3k

Ch notes: Angst, Nightmares, Fighting

Summary: The family copes with the situation revolving Dragos

An: Sorry for posting so late.... hope you like it. Also posting from my phone, so sorry formatting issues.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“ Enough time has passed Wanda. We have to act now before we lose everything,” you speak to the woman in her office.

“I'm not ready for war Y/n,” She tries to dismiss you.

“Detka, I think she’s right. If we wait any longer it could, everything your father built would be over,” Natasha backs you up.

Wanda puts her head down on the desk, "I don't think I can do this.”

“It’s just like we planned, Wanda. Nat and I have everything on standby to close the ports, we’re just waiting on your word,” you speak softly to her.

“Fine, just do it,” she waves her hand, but doesn’t move her face from it’s place on the desk.

She had been like this for nearly two weeks. The shooting of her father seemed to hit her the hardest. She felt like she wasted too much time away from him and now he was gone.

The only way you were functioning was hope that he would wake up. He wasn’t gone, he was just in a coma. People recover from being in comas, they wake up. You just keep telling yourself that Dragos would be waking up soon.

“Wanda, maybe you should go home, I can handle this,” your eyes are full of worry, but your voice is firm.

“I’m capable of running this business Y/n,” she snaps back at you.

“ I know you are, that’s why they put you in charge. However, this is not a one man job Wanda. Dragos had days where he needed someone to take charge. I’m one of those people. Whether he’s sitting in that seat or you’re sitting in that seat, I’m going to continue to be that person. Now go home.”

She looks at you with something you’ve never seen before. It makes your brow furrow. The intensity of her stare isn’t malicious, but it’s unfamiliar to you.

“I’ll take you baby,” Nat offers, taking Wanda’s attention away from you.

Wanda takes one more look at you before agreeing to go with her wife.

“Stop by after work, I don’t care how late it is,” her demand makes you want to gulp, but you hold it and nod.

She’s out of the door first. You share a look with Natasha as you take s seat at the desk.

“I’ll be back, I can have everything ready for tonight,” the spy says.

“Thank you, Natasha.”

She leaves and you get to work immediately. You call in your dealers and suppliers to inform them of potential uptick in all products your pushing to prepare them adequately. You call your supposed allies, you’re vague but they know it’s a threat. More than threat, but a test of loyalty. Some of them dismiss you as you aren’t Dragos, but you’re sure by morning they’ll come around or go out of business.

There had been too much silence on your side of the business. Fisk was parading around the city saying that he killed Dragos. The lack of movement from your side of things only made it seem true.

Wanda had been placed temporarily in charge of the business while Dragos was out of commission. However, she wasn't emotionally prepared for this yet. None of you were in actuality, you all needed more time.

“ Where’s Wanda?” Pietro strolls into the office.

Your eyes are locked on the screen, “ Sent her home.”

“You’re running things today?”

You nod, “We’re going through with the plan to shut down the pier tonight. I put out some feelers, stayed pretty vague. I know they'll get on board when there's no other option.”

“You sound like him,” Pietro chuckles.

“I hope so, I got brushed off by one too many people over the phone. We need to let them know we aren’t weak. We will not be usurped, we are this city and it’s time to remind them.”

Pietro agrees, “My eyes and ears on the street have been telling me about Kingpin He’s telling others he fixed the Maximoff issue. We need to get a handle on this.”

“They will be dealt with and I’ll save Fisk for last. Next time I wont miss when I shoot,” your jaw clenches.

“How are you holding up?” He asks, taking in your appearance.

The bags under your eyes spoke for themselves. You hadn’t been sleeping well, getting 3 hours seems like a blessing some days.

“Not well, but I’ll be alright.”

“You haven’t been sleeping.”

You sigh, “How can I rest well, knowing that the man who has taken someone important from me walks around the streets celebrating it? It’s like he’s taunting me.”

Pietro’s hand lands on your shoulder, “We’re going to get him Y/n, I swear.”

Natasha strolls back into the room, “I’ve got everything set we're just waiting on nightfall.”

“Good, I’m almost done here. I’ve got some paperwork to get through and if it’s not too late, maybe we can carpool?”

Natasha smiles, “I’ll wait for you, it’s no problem.”

“I guess we’ll leave you to it Don Y/n,” Pietro jokes as he pats your shoulder before exiting the office, Natasha’s following behind him.

The paperwork takes longer than expected. You’re exhausted by the end of it, your eyes are strained as you finish the last of it up.

When Natasha comes to check on you , she can tell you’ve dissociated from the work you’re doing. It looks mindless yet stressful at the same time. You don’t even notice she's standing there for another 10 minutes.

“Ok you’re done, lisichka. Time to go home,” Natasha’s voice startles you.

You give her little protest, moving out of the seat. Your bones crack and you let out a yawn as you grab your belongings.

“Wanda’s going to need help tomorrow. The lines should be busy. We can open them up so Kate and I can help filter orders,” you mumble as you leave the office.

“No more work talk, we’re out of the office,” Natasha reminds you.

You let out a tired laugh, “Now you’re sounding like a Maximoff."

“I am married to one,” she says as the two of you get in her car.

“I don't know who's luckier you or her.”

Natasha quirks an eyebrow as she begins to dive, “I’m pretty sure it's me.”

“You’re good for her too; don't discredit yourself. Wanda has always been a caregiver of sorts. She wants to take care of everyone. It's nice to see she has someone who can take care of her,” your eyes begin to close as you speak.

“You’ve taken care of her before. When she was fighting with Pietro, the whole situation with Dragos; you kept her grounded,” Natasha points out.

You shrug lightly, “I couldn't when I was younger.”

Natasha glances at your nearly sleeping figure, “You were just a child, lisichka.”

“I was fragile, she needed someone strong,” you feel sleep overtaking you.

Natasha goes to respond, but hears you snoring softly, “I don't think you could've ever been fragile.”

The spy doesn't wake you when you arrive at the condo. Instead she carefully removes you from the car and carries you up to her door. She rings the bell unable to get her keys while holding you.

When Wanda opens the door her eyes soften at the sight of you asleep in her wife’s arm.

“I didn't want to wake her. I overheard her telling Pietro she hasn't been sleeping,” Nat explains to her wife.

“Just lay her in our bed,” Wanda says, and Natasha complies.

Wanda heads to the kitchen, unable to sleep. She stays to make herself some tea.

“She cares about you a lot,” Natasha says meeting her wife in the kitchen.

Wanda just hums a response.

“You care about her a lot too,” Natasha looks to meet her wife’s gaze.

“Astute observation, sweetheart,” Wanda responds dryly.

Natasha steps into Wanda’s personal space, “You know what I’m insinuating then?”

Wanda finally looks at her wife, “No I don’t.”

“I think you're in love with her,” Natasha is gentle when she speaks.

Wanda laughs, “What are you talking about? Y/n is a part of my family. I’ve cared for her for years; healed her wounds, held her when she cried, taught her how to defend herself. Natasha, she was barley turning 17 when I met her.”

“I see the way you look at her Wanda. It’s the same way you look at me,” her tone doesn’t convey anger or sorrow.

Wanda’s laughter has yet to die down, “She’s my little brother’s best friend.”

“Then tell me why she can ground you the same way I can? Her touch calms you, her look quiets you, and her figure causes your eyes to drift. Just be honest with me Wanda.”

“Look, I love Y/n. I would do anything to keep her safe, but there’s nothing between us romantically,” Wanda gets serious for the first time in the conversation.

Natasha rolls her eyes, “You lost your mind about something from 5 years ago involving her, you were in tears when you couldn't attend her graduation, you talked about her more than your brother, mother, and father.”

Wanda’s eyes shift for a second, it’s the only sign Natasha needs. Her hand reach for her wife’s. Her thumbs pad the back of Wanda’s hand.

“Baby-”

“Natasha I can’t. I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she tries to escape but Natasha won’t let her.

“Talk to me, detka.”

For a moment it seems like Wanda is going to talk it out with her wife. However a commotion in their bedroom puts brakes to the conversation.

They both rush in that direction. In the bedroom they find you fighting in your sleep. You’re thrashing, punching, and screaming.

Wanda’s eyes go wide at the sight. The distress on your face send her into fight or flight. She wants to help, but she’s unaware of what to do.

Natasha on the other hand has had her fair share of life like nightmares. She knows how delicate of a situation that they can be.

“Easy lisichka, it’s not real,” Natasha’s voice is firm as she speaks, slowly inching towards you.

Natasha’s hand slowly reaches for your forearm. The action cause you to jerk, but Natasha is unflinching. Her hands trailing up and down your arm trying to calm you.

“Baby you’re safe here,” Natasha slips her fingers between yours.

It’s sudden the way you jolt forward into consciousness. Natasha’s arms wrap around you securely as your chest heaves up and down.

Wanda joins your side, hand running through your hair, “It’s ok, you’re ok. You’re safe little krolik.”

You sniffle a couple of times. Before realizing the position you're in. You sit in a bed that you can only assume belongs to the two women, that are slowing your erratic heart rate.

“I uh- I fell asleep in the car,” you say pushing the women away from you slightly.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead and then rub at your eyes roughly. The feeling of embarrassment starts to creep in on you.

“ You did, exhausted from all that work and no sleep,” Natasha says.

You nod lightly, “As you can see I have a hard time with sleeping.”

“It’s like that every night?” Wanda’s voice was laced with concern.

You try to laugh it off, “I get by with the little sleep I get before the nightmares.”

“Y/n, we’re being serious,” Wanda’s use of your actual name startles you a bit.

You take a deep breath, “Nearly every night since the shooting. But I’m a big girl guys, I’ve got it under control.”

“Wanda’s been having trouble sleeping too. If I leave just for a second, she starts panicking pretty bad,” Natasha mentions, causing her wife to glare at her.

Wanda crosses her arms over her chest defensively and that’s how you know Natasha is telling the truth.

“I’ve been trying to run a company and a business. There’s no time for a comfortable rest.”

It was your turn to give a stern look, “You won’t be able to lead well if all your senses are weakened from lack of sleep.”

“And how much sleep did you get last night before so graciously kicking me out of the office today?” She counters and your face heats up.

“It's not like I don't want to sleep. I’ve tried a bunch of shit, but nothing is enough for the nightmares. It’s triggering, you know because not only are the nightmares themselves intense, but having them in the first place reminds me the ones I used to have about my family.”

Though you've arguably been vulnerable with both of these women before, it feels harder this time. It feels like they are seeing a piece of you that is supposed to be neatly tucked away. Yet you’re too tired to hide it and you trust them not to use it against you.

“If you’re comfortable with it, I know something that might help,” Natasha offers.

“I’m willing to try anything,” you give her your full attention.

“Stay here with us tonight,” her eyes pierce through yours.

“Here as in…”

“The bed, yes,” Natasha elaborates.

Almost reflexively you look to Wanda to find her staring at her wife. The look isn’t entirely inviting and you take note of that.

You look directly towards Wanda as you speak, “I don't want to impose or be anymore of an inconvenience than I already have. I can actually just go home and try again.”

You attempt to get out of bed, but Wanda places a hand on your chest, keeping you down, “Y/n, you will never be an inconvenience to me. I don't want to keep you here if you’re uncomfortable, but if Nat thinks this could help you then I think it’s worth a shot.”

Your skin is hot under her hand, and you hope she can’t feel the way your heart is beating. It truly shouldn’t feel like such a big deal, you’ve laid with Wanda before . You knew what it was like to have her arms tightly secured around you while she played with your hair until your nerves died. Something about it felt more innocent then.

Now that you were both adults and Wanda was married, it almost seemed like crossing a line.

“What if this works?” You say looking between the couple. They share a quick look at each other before fixing their eyes on you.

“ We’ll cross that bridge when we get there lisichka. We should all get some rest, tomorrow will be very hectic for everyone,” Natasha again reassures you.

“ Do you want something more comfortable to sleep in?” Wanda says, as she pinches the fabric of your work shirt.

You nod lightly and not even a second later Natasha is shoving some pajamas in your hand. She points you to the direction on the restroom and you go leaving the two redheads alone for a moment.

“Natalia,” Wanda’s voice is low and cold as she speaks to her wife.

Natasha shrugs, “What was I supposed to do, Wanda? Did you see the poor girl?”

“You did this to prove a point,” Wanda keeps her voice down with much effort.

“I think you’re doing that all on your own. This is simply helping a friend out. It’s not like you haven’t shared bed with her before,” Natasha shoots back.

“T-this is different,” she stumbles over her words.

“Why?” Natasha raises an eyebrow at her wife.

“Can we drop this please?” Wanda looks away.

Her wife reaches to caress her face, “Detka, we can drop it for now but sooner or later we’re going to have to talk about your feelings.”

Wanda draws in a large breath . She focuses on the way Natasha’s thumb cascades across her cheek.

She looks at her wife, “I love you. More than anything Natalia. I would never put you through anything that I think would hurt us. This to me is the most important everything .”

“I’m not doubting that baby. I’m not asking you this question to make you pick between the two, I just want some clarity,” Natasha kisses Wanda briefly after speaking.

Before Wanda can speak again you’re back in the room. You stand awkwardly as the couple behind you to the bed.

“So, how does this work? Do you want me on the edge or in the middle or..?”

“We’re following your lead little krolik."

Alarms go off in your brain but the aren't loud enough in your sleep deprived state. You take your place at the edge of the bed, closest to Wanda.

You try your best to keep your arms stiffly to yourself. There isn't any chance that you'd willingly embarrass yourself further.

It would be so easy to put your arm around her waist. The more you think the less sleep you get.

Wanda can sense the tense state of your body. Natasha words echo in her mind and it causes her to hesitate. Usually she would’ve already taken initiative to make sure you were comfortable. However here she was, scared that the feeling of your arms around her would send her into an overload.

“Can I- ” your sentence is aided by the action of your hand coming to rest respectfully on her stomach.

Wanda doesn’t speak but her hand lands gently over yours, keeping it in place. You relax at the action and unintentionally pull the woman closer to you. Her back is flush against your front as soft snores fall from your lips. You fall asleep instantly.

She doesn't want to admit it, but being this close to you makes her heart thunder in her chest. She feels warm in your hold. It’s a new feeling.

Being held by you is different than holding you herself. Her free hand reaches out for her wife. Natasha scoots closer, to be face to face with Wanda. Her hand interlaces itself with Wanda’s.

Natasha kisses the back of Wanda’s hand, “I love you.”

“Love you more,” Wanda whispers as her eyes flutter shut.

The three women lay together. For once their minds are quiet as they sleep. It’s peaceful, something that they can revel in before the storm of the morning disrupts their peace.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok

[woso-dreamzzz]

Playing Favourites IV

Arsenal Women x Child!Reader

Summary: You're sad

There's something wrong with you but Leah can't quite work out what it is.

At first, it was the fact that you didn't come running to hug her when she surprised you at nursery a few days ago. Then, it was the way you were so quiet and sullen on the drive back to London. But finally, it was the way you didn't want to greet any of her teammates when you arrived at the training ground this morning.

You've been quiet and withdrawn all weekend and Leah had hoped that seeing everyone would make you happy again.

It's clear that there's no such luck.

You scuff your shoes in the dirt when you get out onto the pitch, suddenly more interested in playing with the loose threads of your shirt rather than running off to go see Alessia or Katie.

"What's up with the bean?" Katie asks as she watches you sit down on the ground and dig a little hole with a stick.

"I don't know," Leah replies, feeling completely defeated," She's been in a bad mood ever since I picked her up from nursery. I've no idea what's happened."

"Nothing?" Katie asks," Nothing at all?"

"She's said absolutely nothing," Leah says as she passes the ball between them," She's been trying to avoid me too and I just don't get why."

They both turn to look at you. Alessia's crouched in front of you, talking to you softly but you keep turning away from her. She tries to talk to you again but you keep moving away until your back is facing her and she's being called away to get back to training.

"You could take her to see Win," Katie offers," I'm sure puppy cuddles will open her up."

"Yeah, maybe."

In the end, with no other options left, Leah takes you to see Win.

You've never met Win before. She looks nice though and sits and waits for you to come to her. She nudges her nose against your hand and licks it, sending you into a wave of giggles.

"Yeah," Leah says," Win's a sweetheart, isn't she?"

You nod and go to pet Win some more.

Katie and Alessia are here too. You don't know why and that makes you a little nervous. They're hovering too, like Leah is as you get puppy cuddles from Win.

You kind of want your own puppy but you know Mummy won't let you get one. You've already got Bella at home but Bella's not your dog and she doesn't give you lots of cuddles or sleep in bed with you like a puppy of your own would.

"Hey, bean," Lessi says as she comes to sit criss-cross-apple-sauce in front of you and Win," How are you feeling?"

That's a weird question, you think and you frown a little bit.

"I like puppy cuddles," You answer.

Lessi nods but flashes a look over your shoulder where you know Leah and Katie are standing.

"That's nice," Leah says. She crouches down next to you, a hand on your shoulder. "Is there anything else you want to say?"

You think for a moment, biting at your lip. You turn away from your sister, distracting yourself by adjusting Win's collar. "I want a puppy too. Leah, can I have a puppy?"

She frowns. Clearly, that's not what you're meant to say.

"Sorry, bean," She says," I don't think Mum would be happy if I brought you home with a puppy."

You sigh and Leah can clearly see the moment you switch back to how you were all weekend. Clearly, Win's presence was only a temporary solution.

Your mood worsens considerably when you have to go home and you're quiet and withdrawn for the entire night and the next morning.

It's really worrying Leah and she tries to bring your mood up by sending you off with your favourite people but none of them help.

Lia tries to get you to read with her. Kyra tries to get you to play. You absolutely refuse to nap with Lotte. You're temporarily happy when Viv shows you pictures of Myle but it only makes you turn to Leah to ask for a puppy of your own again.

It all circles back to the end of the day where you sit with Win. You're on the floor at reception, pulling on a piece of rope that Win's got in her mouth while Leah, Katie and Alessia all sit in the surrounding chairs.

"She isn't sick or anything?" Lessi asks," I've heard kids' moods change when they're sick."

"Not sick," Leah confirms," I checked her temperature last night. Unless she's somehow sick with her only symptoms being a mood change, it's unlikely. I just..." She sighs. "I've no idea what's up with her."

"Leah," You call out," Can I please have a puppy?" You've tried to make your voice sound upbeat and happy as you ask, almost as if you've been eavesdropping on the conversation but Leah knows you're way too invested in cuddles with Win.

She can tell your tone is fake though, as if you think that by smiling and acting happier she won't be able to see right through you.

"Sorry, bean," Leah says again," Mum will kill me."

The fake smile melts off your face instantly and you crumble in on yourself again. Your shoulders slump inwards and you turn away again.

"Hey, bean," Katie says suddenly, sitting in front of you and Win," Why do you want a puppy so much?"

You shrug, stroking your hands through Win's fur and giving her belly tickles. "Puppy would be my friend."

"The puppy would be your friend?" Katie repeats and you nod," That's nice. But why do you need a puppy friend?"

You shrug again, not willing to look up at Katie because your eyes sting with tears. "The puppy would be my friend forever."

"What's up, huh, bean?" Leah pulls you into her lap. "Why do you need a puppy friend so much? Talk to me."

You sniffle a little bit as a few tears leak down your cheeks. "I don't have nursery friends," You say," Puppy friend will be better."

"You don't have friends at nursery?" Leah asks. She stands you up, turning you around and cupping your face so you can't look away. "What do you mean you don't have friends to nursery?"

"They're mean," You say," They're not my friends."

"And you want a puppy so you can have friends?"

You nod miserably. "I don't have friends."

"You have friends." Lessi appears over your sister's shoulder. "I'm your friend, bean, and so is Katie."

"Really?"

"Of course we are," Katie says," And so are Kyra and Viv and Lia and Lotte and the whole team!"

You're not too convinced but Katie doesn't lie to you and she's nodding at you and looking very truthful so you force yourself to believe her.

"I'm your friend too, bean," Leah says and you shake your head.

"No. You're my sister."

"But I can be your sister and your friend!"

You think that over for a moment before you lean into Leah's arms and tuck your face into her shoulder. "Really?"

"Of course, bean."

"And you're a forever friend?"

Leah's arms close around you tightly, drawing you even closer to the safety of her body.

"Yes, bean. I'm a forever friend."

[the-lambda-archives-ai]

“Okay. . . Background. . . I was a troubled kid, I’ll just get that out of the way, got into fights skipped school made a lot of questionable choices for my age.

I think it goes without saying I didn’t have a lot of friends, not my fault, my parents were shit, abusive dad and a pushover of a mom who just sat back and watched; I used to tell myself it was 'cause she was scared of him too.

Doesn’t matter anymore.

Let’s just say they didn’t take too kindly to finding out that their dearest daughter wanted to be a boy.

I was. . . on my own, I couldn’t stay at home, they didn’t want me to stay and neither did I; since my parents abandoned me I’d forced myself to go back into the closet, I was afraid that if I was myself people would leave.

Typically people aren’t too keen on letting an angry teenager with a shit load of baggage in, so I had nowhere to go.

Naturally, when I turned 18 I joined the army, I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you about all the horrors of the military.

I’m let off 7 years later, and if you thought I had problems before, you wouldn’t know the half of it.

I was more lost than ever before.

Turned out I wasn’t the only one because a little while later I ran into a mate from the army in a bar, turned out we both were from the same little shit hole, and coincidentally both ended up in the same town; we drank, talked, and for the first time I felt like I wasn’t alone, I’ve never had it happen where I talked to a stranger and it feel like we’ve known each other our entire lives, it could have also been the alcohol that made it a bit easier, but we got on like a house on fire.

Adrian was the first guy who ever really understood me, who I felt comfortable around, hell I even worked up the confidence to come out to him, I was scared shitless but he obviously accepted me. . . heh . . .it’s funny ‘cause the moment after I came out, he quickly confessed he thought he was gay, it caught me so off guard that I laughed and said “way to kill the moment.” he said he thought it would make me feel better if he also confessed a secret.

I was lost, but now I had a friend.

I became an officer and shortly after he did too, for the first time in my entire life things were beginning to get on track.

We had a good. . . 6 years? without a major incident, which in hindsight it's crazy either of us made it that long without crashing into a tree or something, but well. . . obviously that didn’t last.

One of the guys from work invited us on a hunting trip, it sounded exciting, I’d never been hunting before and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna pass up an opportunity to get drunk in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of idiots! Adrian wasn’t as excited about it as I was and was more reluctant to agree, but I guess when he heard I was going he agreed to come along.

It was us and 3 other guys in Colorado for 3 days, first couple days were great, we hiked around the mountain, went fishing, shot a couple ducks, got temporarily lost, the usual fun you have camping, it was on the night of the second day I think, that one of the guys, Adam, said he saw something moving around the campsite, Clarke, another guy, whipped out his gun and shot it in the air without warning and said some dumb shit like “well it’s gone now!”.

He got yelled at for being a fucking dumbass, but we all kind of agreed it was probably a deer and long gone now.

Adrian woke me up that night, but in a fuckin- kidnap-cover-your-mouth style, I was gonna yell at him but before I could get anything out he whispered to be quiet.

I- I’d never seen him so. . . scared.

I nodded to him and he slowly let go and inched towards the tent door, I- I asked him what was going on but he just whipped around and glared at me, I kind of just shut up and tried to listen. . .?

I’d thought maybe a bear wandered into the campsite and he’d heard it or something?

We were sat there for maybe two or three minutes before I heard a- something growling. . . it- it wasn’t like anything- I- I need you to understand there is no damn animal in Colorado that could make that noise, it was so low but not like- a natural low, like it didn’t sound real?

It sounded like if you took a dog growling and edited it to the lowest possible setting and added a reverb? Something like that- it- it was so loud I thought that it was around our tent but. . . I realized it wasn’t when I heard Adam scream.

The next part was sort of a blur, something ripped into our tent, gunshots, and we both ran out into the woods, I- I wasn't focused on where I was going- I just kept running, like tunnel vision.

It was dark and cold and at some point I realized I wasn't wearing any shoes 'cause my feet were bleeding, I was completely out of breath and exhausted, I had to stop, I barely had a moment to breathe when I heard the growling start again, it wasn't close but it was loud enough that I knew it was near, and then the growl began to change, it slowly morphed into a laugh, and then it started coming from all directions, it was so loud it- that horrible unnatural laugh rang in my skull and I couldn’t move, I knew I was trapped and- that I’d die here, alone.

A gunshot pierced the woods and all at once the laughter stopped, Adrian emerged from the tree line holding a pistol, he was shaken up but began to make his way toward me. . . I should have known better than to let my guard down, but I was so happy to see his stupid face.

A figure jumped out of the trees at a speed that- I. . . I didn’t even have the time to process what was happening, I just turned over to look and it was on Adrian, he dropped his gun and the thing- it- it almost looked human but was so deformed- it was bloated in some places and skinny in others, its face looked charred, pitch black, the only things visible were its glowing white eyes and teeth- it kicked his gun away and I ran to go pick it up, when I turned back I was expecting it to try to stop me. . . That you know- me running would at least catch it's attention? But it didn’t. . . I turned back to see it mauling Adrian, it ripped into his arm and part of his jaw before I shot it.

It didn’t die, the bullet barely seemed to have affected it, but it was enough to drive it back into the woods, he- Adrian was bleeding. Bad.

I- I was so scared he’d die- I lifted him up and wandered the woods looking for the nearby highway, I walked with him for what felt like hours before the forest service found us, they were already on their way because they heard all the gunshots.

From there I guess I must have passed out because next thing I know I’m waking up in a hospital bed, I was well enough and practically jumped out of bed looking for someone to ask if Adrian was alright, but turned out he was in the bed next to me all patched up and sleeping, it’s weird, despite everything that had just happened, in that moment all I thought about was how we must have truly been inseparable if not even a freaky monster could break us apart.

I probably jinxed it. . . Adrian recovered alright and got a ton of gnarly new scars he covers up but. . . he wasn’t the same.

He became . . . obsessed with hunting down whatever that thing was. . . Metaphorically speaking, he’d never go back to those or any other woods ever again, but, he wanted answers, at some point he learned about the lambda institute and became unhealthily obsessed.

His hunger for answers was what began to drive a wedge in our friendship, the supernatural has him in a chokehold, and I don’t even think he realizes it.

Since his recovery he’s. . . spiraled. . . he’s obsessive, possessive, paranoid, and he does things without even thinking about the consequences, before all this happened he was the responsible one, one of our friends joked that I’ve basically become his babysitter, it was a joke but it’s sort of true.

I knew he was obsessed with the paranormal, but I didn’t find out about his fixation on the lambda institute 'till after yesterdays incident when he confessed about it after we left.

. . . He’s been put on mental health leave for a couple weeks, and he’s barely spoken to me since.

I’m getting worried- I’ve been worried, for his health, our r- friendship, but- now more than ever, he always comes to me for everything, but he’s been getting withdrawn, hiding things from me isn’t- he never does that; from others, yes, but not me, I’m- this is bad, I’m worried about what other things he could be hiding, he hid his obsession for months I don’t- I- I think he’s going to do something, something stupid, he’s gonna get hurt and I need to stop him but I don’t know how, I just. . . I just want my best friend back.

> Statement ends.

Pt 192 > here

Prev > here

[mxauthor]

Too Good for Me

Summary: Chilchuck loves his wife, but he thinks she's too good for him.

Word Count: 1,944

Warnings: a little angsty, maybe ooc Chilchuck, half-foot reader, one curse word, fluff near the end

Within the half-foot community, everyone knows that Chilchuck Tims and Y/n L/n were meant to be. Both of their parents having lived close to each other, the once small children grew up together. 

Playing tag as small children, turned into shy hand holding and blushy kisses. Chilchuck adored Y/n with all his heart, nothing could stop him from coming home to her, not even the dark dungeons he found himself in. While Y/n believed that Chilchuck was her whole world. Having loved him since they were kids, Y/n only wished for her Chil to come home safe and sound to her. 

Their love continued to bloom throughout the years, having married young and created a family, the Tims couldn’t be happier. 

Chilchuck loves his wife. He’d do anything for her, he’d do anything to keep her happy and smiling. Shining like the sun, even if it meant she’d shine with someone other than him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n could tell that something was bothering her husband. 

It didn’t take much, especially since he was so easy to read. She watched as his brows furrowed and his nose wrinkled. His lips were slightly downturned as well, completing his ‘mr grump face’. 

With careful footsteps, Y/n approached the chair her husband was currently occupying. Once behind, she slid her arms around his shoulders and kissed the side of his head, “Good evening, Mr. Grump, would you happen to know if my husband was available.” Having felt the slump of his shoulders and hearing his defeated, albeit amused, sigh Y/n knew she temporarily soothed the twister of thoughts running through his mind. 

“I’ll ring him in for you Mrs. Y/n.” the auburn haired man jokes, before turning his gaze to catch the loving eyes of his wife. “Hello sweetheart.” 

She pecked his lips lovingly, “Hi lovie. Is something the matter? It’s been a while since the ‘grumpy face’ has come out.” Y/n voiced. A wife can’t help but be concerned for her husband, especially since he works dangerous jobs just for them. 

“Everythings fine, just thinking about a request of some sort.” Chilchuck smiled tiredly. His mind has been reeling about what one of his party members asked. While departing from the dungeon, Moslie, had caught the small huff Chilchuck exclaimed about seeing his wife after so long.

It didn’t take much, to cause Chilchuck to rant and rave about his wife back home. The group laughed and poked at the pink faced half-foot. Making him swear he’ll bring her to the tavern to meet them. But after sobering up, Chilchuck didn’t want to follow through anymore. His work and his life were two separate things. 

He wanted to keep them separate for as long as he could, but knowing that the moment he mentions it to Y/n, her radiant smile will kill all the courage to tell her nevermind and not have them meet at all. 

“Anything I can shoulder with you.” Her sweet voice pierced through Chilchuck’s thoughts. Her nose nudged his cheek, her arms still loose around his neck. The phrase ‘with him’ caused his heart to stutter. Knowing that she’d carry his problems with him, knowing that she’d support him with anything. Knowing that she’d be at his side forever, made the decision harder and harder. 

Chilchuck would be with her and carry everything with her until their skeletons turned to dust, which is why he wants to keep her all to himself.

Her smile alone makes the sun burn with envy. Anyone would be lucky to have her. 

And he wanted to stay lucky. 

But knowing that the smallest meeting with his party would cause even the stars to shine brighter with jealousy with how much she’d beam. Chilchuck had no other option but to lift his half of the world into her awaiting hands. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chilchuck sat silently at the table within the tavern. He watched as Y/n floated around, speaking excitedly with all members of the party. Even chatting with the wives that they’ve brought along. Her excitement almost made everything worth it. 

Almost. 

The auburn haired half-foot watched as his Y/n blushed red at something said to her. She then became bashful and her smile turned into something heart stopping. She looked away, before catching the eye of Chilchuck, then looking back again. A mutter of a response before Y/n excused herself for the conversation to talk with another member, luckily a woman this time. 

Chilchuck watched with insecure eyes, feeling like his greatest nightmare was happening before him and all he could do was watch. He hated being a part of a scene. Having everyone stare at him, waiting for his next comeback or action. And within the full tavern, that was surely the outcome. 

So he drank instead. 

Not enough to get him hammered and stumbling but enough to where his wife would always choose him. Enough to quiet the insecurities just for a moment. Enough to trick himself into believing that he was enough for Y/n, that she would never leave. That she’d want to spend the rest of her life with him. 

And it worked, until it didn’t. They always came back and it was getting harder to fight them. 

So he let them win and kept drinking the night away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The walk back to their little home seemed much longer than necessary. Almost like all the paths taken have stretched themselves while two were away. Chilchuck walked the path silent. His head hung low, the alcohol continued to flow through his system. 

The half-foot refused to look towards his wife, not wanting her to see his defeated expression. Chilchuck knew since childhood that Y/n was too good for him. That his grumpy and sour nature wasn’t worth her sticking around. He knew that he dulled her and just tonight, his thoughts were confirmed. 

She practically glowed all throughout the night. Her bubbly nature was addicting enough, Chilchuck almost didn’t need a drop of alcohol for the night. But her glow, directed at all his party members, made him feel sick. Seeing her bounce and laugh joyously, seeing her blush and dance with them just told Chilchuck that she’d be happier with someone other than him. 

How could she love a grump like him? How can she stay and wait for him for days on end? How could she simply be happy? 

Chilchuck grumbled to himself, reaching the door of their home. The man made quick work with the lock and entered, leaving it open for his wife that was tailing right behind him.

Y/n walked through and saw as her husband grabbed one of the wine bottles stored in the cabinets, taking a large drink and sitting himself at the table. She watched as he grumbled with himself. As if he was in an argument of some kind. 

His body language saying to leave him alone. That he wasn’t in the mood for any human interaction. 

But she took a tentative step towards him anyway. She moved her body to lean against him anyway. She wrapped her arm around his head to keep him against her anyway. She wrapped her other arm over his shoulder anyway. 

She held him anyway. 

And she continued to hold him as he cried.

Chilchuck gripped onto Y/n’s arm, making it so she can’t let go. So she can’t leave. He wanted to push her off, tell her that he wasn’t good enough, break her heart so she could leave and be happy with someone else. Someone who’d make her shine and laugh and dance. Someone who can talk about his feelings. Someone who’d take her on dates everyday. Someone who’d give her flowers and tell her they love her everyday. 

Someone who isn’t him. 

“You deserve better than me, Y/n.” his voice came out meek. Like it was painful for him to even say the words in the first place. Y/n looked at Chilchuck with bewilderment, not believing he’d even say such a thing. All her love for him was ready to pour out, but the tightening grip on her arm silenced them. 

“I’m a grumpy old man, who’s gone all the time. An old man that’s bitter and emotionless. I don’t even tell you I love you. I don’t bring you gifts or flowers. I never talk about work or anything else and you just met my co-workers after 2 years of me working with them.” Chilchuck ranted. His tears continued to fall, voice weavering between words. His hold still tight, no matter how much he believed he wasn’t enough for her, Chilchuck wanted her to stay right there, needed her to stay with him. “I’m a lousy husband and barely a good enough father. You don’t need someone like me holding you down.” 

Y/n dipped her head down, lay her forehead against Chilchuck’s crown. She breathed deeply before speaking, “I no longer feel pretty. I’ve outgrown my gowns, and I feel fat. Our daughters prefer their father over me. I think I’m a terrible mother, and they don’t love me as much as they love you. I say home, waiting for my husband because he’s the only thing that makes me smile anymore. But even then, I don’t think I’m pretty enough for him.” She rose her head and turned his until they were meeting eye to eye. Y/n took in his slightly red nose, the tears within his eyes and the water path the previous ones made. Her gaze softened, tears of her own welling up in her eyes, her hand coming up to cup his face, wiping them away. 

“But seeing the way he looked at me tonight. Like I’ve given him life, was enough to show me that he loves me as much as I love him.” She leaned down and rested their heads together. Chilchuck closed his eyes, taking in her warmth. “And god I love him so. His beautiful eyes and sweet smile. His warm embrace and powerful kisses. His grumpiness in the mornings, that always softens when I cuddle him. His loving words and sweet gestures. It makes me swoon every time. I love him dearly and deeply. And nothing could change that, nothing could make me stop loving you Chilchuck. Not when we were kids and definitely not now.

“I don’t need gifts or flowers. I don’t need you to tell me you love me all the time. I don’t need to know about work and I could’ve gone a whole lifetime without meeting your friends because all I need is you. You in my arms, your kisses on my lips, your life entangled with mine.” 

Chilchuck slowly pulled away, looking into Y/n’s eyes. All he could see was love and adoration, like he hung the stars themselves. 

“I love you Chilchuck Tims. And I know you love me. That’s all I need.” 

Chilchuck crashed his lips to hers. Pulling her into a searing breathless kiss. Y/n kissed him back just as hard. Trying to suffocate all of his own insecurities to make them die with her love alone. Chilchuck pulled her onto his lap, holding her close as he continued to kiss her breathless. 

Within this moment, Chilchuck believed himself stupid for wanting his beautiful wife to find someone else. Stupid to think that she’d even think of going anywhere without him. 

Stupid to believe that she didn’t love him the way he loved her because at this moment he’s drowning within her love and he’d die right there. 

Because loving her was lucky. 

And he was fucking lucky.

[literaryavenger]

So I read somewhere that if the word ‘Sputnik’ is said to Bucky it knocks him out. Like it was a way for HYDRA to temporarily incapacitate him until they could control him better if he got out of hand. I’d love to see if you could write about how the reader and the team would deal with this situation. Maybe incorporate the satellite, as we know how much Bucky loves space. 💙✨ Maybe an established relationship? Again don’t need to do this, but I thought you’d appreciate a little help to get out of this writers block :)

Sputnik

Summary: Bucky's fascinacion with Space gives the team an interesting, emotional week.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!BlackWidow!Reader, Platonic!Bucky Barnes x Various!Avengers

Warnings: Language. Established relationship. Mentions of Bucky's past and trauma. So much angst, but tons of fluff too. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 6.4K. This one got away from me, lol.

A/N: Okay, so I heard about this too and did some research and found out it is a thing that the Red Skull uses against Bucky in one of the many universes of the comics, but it can only be used once. What I couldn’t find is how to wake him up, so that part is made up by me lol. Anyway, I hope this satisfies you, Anon, and to everyone that’s sent me requests already, I promise I plan on working on all of them, even if it takes me a little time. But keep ‘em coming! Also, I put a lot of MCU references and lines, so have fun finding them all, lol.

Masterlist

Life isn’t always fair.

That’s something most people can agree on. But it’s especially never been fair for one Bucky Barnes.

Bucky has been an Avenger for years now, and sometimes he still feels like he’s made little to no progress. Other times even he can’t deny how far he’s come.

Like right now, he’s sitting on the couch with you, his girlfriend, sitting next to him with your legs over his as he strokes your thigh absentmindedly while he’s engrossed in a conversation with Peter about astrology.

That’s something that Bucky has always found interesting, and the young genius has been filling Bucky in on everything he’s missed on the subject since the 40s.

Most of the Avengers are away on missions and the rest of the team that’s at the Compound (Tony, Steve, Peter, Wanda, Sam, Natasha, Bucky and you) are all hanging out in the common room, the fading colors of the sundown coming through the window making for a nice setting.

Tony, Steve and Sam are talking about Formula One, Peter and Bucky are in their own little nerd world and you are talking with Natasha and Wanda about the latest tv show you’ve all been binging together.

Your attention is brought on Bucky when he taps on your leg gently to signal you to get them off of him so he can get up, never breaking his conversation with Peter.

“What’s a satellite?” Bucky asks with furrowed eyebrows as he gets up from the couch.

“It’s an artificial body placed in orbit around the earth, or moon or another planet, in order to collect information or for communication.” Peter explains like the cute little geek he is while Bucky goes to the kitchen to get another beer, still concentrating on their conversation.

“You know,” Tony interjects, the whole team’s attention now on their exchange. “The first artificial Earth satellite launched in 1957, it was called Sputnik and it was-”

“Bucky?” You interrupt Tony in the middle of his fun fact when you see your boyfriend freezing as he’s about to sit on the couch where he was a minute ago.

He doesn’t say anything but you can see his eyes rolling back into his head and then he falls to the ground unconscious.

“Bucky!” You yell as you kneel beside him, everyone else rushing to his side, just as worried as you.

You grab him by his shoulders and shake him a little, but the man doesn’t move a muscle. You look around at the team, but everyone is equally as clueless about what’s happening as you are.

“Should we try slapping him?” Sam offers, earning a glare from both you and Steve and a slap on the back of his head by Natasha.

You look back at Bucky, but you can’t think of anything to do to help him, your mind completely blank. You feel a hand on your shoulder but you pay it no mind, your eyes focused on Bucky.

“We could try the book…” Steve’s voice is quiet but to your ears those words feel like a scream and your eyes snap up to his just to find him already looking at you.

You know what book he’s talking about, of course you know. The Winter Soldier’s red book, the one Bucky gave you to keep safe because he trusts you with his life.

You’re the only one that has access to it, but you’ve never even opened it because Bucky trusted you not to unless it was necessary. He chose not to destroy it for this exact reason, in case something inexplicable happened to him. 

He himself has never opened the book, so it stands to reason that there are a lot of things he doesn’t know about the Winter Soldier’s programming.

You promised him you’d keep it safe and that’s what you’ve done so far, but you also promised yourself you’d never open it and see the horrors even Bucky doesn’t know they did to him. You certainly never thought it would be necessary, that’s why you agreed to it.

But right now, as much as you hate to admit it, it’s your best option. 

You leave Bucky in Steve’s care and go to your and Bucky’s room. You go into the closet and remove the hardwood plank in the far corner and reach into it to take out a small safe.

It’s Stark Technology, even Bucky wouldn’t be able to get into it, if he even knew it was there. But he doesn’t, he was very insistent on you being the only person that knew the book’s hiding place.

You scan your thumbprint, then your retina and lastly say the voice command ‘Jamie’ and the light turns green. The safe opens and you reach into it, moving away the files about yourself you recovered from the Red Room after you and Natasha escaped, then the Hydra file Natasha found on Bucky and some other documents you have there before spotting the red leather at the bottom of the safe. You pull it out and hesitate before sighing. 

This is necessary. 

That’s what you keep telling yourself over and over as you open it and start looking through the pages for anything about Bucky passing out.

Thankfully it doesn’t take long for you to find it, and you’re careful to put everything away the way it was before going back to Bucky.

While you were looking for an explanation, Steve and Sam moved Bucky to the medbay where Tony hooked up some machines to him to make sure he was still healthy, even if he’s unconscious.

You enter the room and hesitate before walking up to the bed. You can tell everyone’s worried, most likely because even the shuffle of bringing him here didn’t wake him up.

“Please tell me nobody slapped him.” you say quietly, half joking and half actually worried someone tried to slap him awake. When Steve shakes his head no, you let out a relieved breath and cross your arms in front of your chest. “I think I know what happened.”

“You do? What is it?” Steve asks hopefully, although the tone in your voice doesn’t prompt anything good.

“Apparently, Hydra planted a failsafe in Bucky’s subconscious.” Everyone’s attention is on you, and you look at everything but Bucky. “It was made in case the Winter Soldier rebelled and they needed a quick way to shut him down.”

“I don’t get it, why didn’t Shuri take it out with his trigger words?” Sam asks with a frown.

“She didn’t know about it.” You answer simply. “Bucky didn’t even know about it…”

“If she didn’t know it existed, she didn’t know to look for it…” Tony elaborates and Sam nods.

“Does it say what the word is?” Steve asks you.

“The word is ‘Sputnik’.” You say while looking at Tony with a tight-lipped smile. You know it’s not his fault, he obviously didn’t do it on purpose and you know he understands you don’t blame him, and neither would Bucky. “Good news is, the failsafe can only be used once.” Everyone relaxes a little, at least there’s the bright side that this won’t ever happen again.

“And the bad news is…?” Natasha prompts while raising her eyebrow, making everyone tense again. You sigh, damn her for knowing you so well.

“Since it’s never been used, there’s no saying what will happen to him, how long it’ll last or how to wake him up…” You trail off, looking down at your feet while biting your lip before finishing your sentence. “If he even wakes up.”

You hear Wanda gasp at your words and the room goes silent. You don’t have the courage of looking anybody in the eye at the moment, so you just keep looking down.

“What do you mean, if he even wakes up?” Peter is the one that asks the question, his voice quiet and a little unsteady.

“It’s Hydra we’re talking about, I doubt they cared about the consequences their actions would bring on Bucky’s psyche…” You say bitterly, wishing you had any Hydra agent at hand so you could snap their neck. “That trigger word could’ve done anything to him.”

“T-there has to be something else, maybe you missed something.” Steve mutters and it takes everything in you not to roll your eyes. You know this is coming from a good place, he’s worried for his best friend, but it’s still annoying that he’s doubting you.

“All it says in the book is that it’s supposed to knock him out long enough to provide an opportunity to move him somewhere where he can’t do any damage or even put him back into Cryo if necessary.” You recall word for word what you read in the book, making it clear that there’s nothing else to be done. “All we can do is wait it out…”

You glance at Bucky and something inside you snaps. You know you can’t look at his still, angelic face any longer or you’ll lose it, so you turn around and walk out of the room, leaving everybody perplexed at the wake of your actions.

“Wait!” Steve says from behind you, but you don’t turn around until you’re at the elevators.

“We can keep watch on him one at a time until he wakes up.” That’s all you say while entering the elevator, giving him no chance to say anything back.

He understands this is a lot for you, so he decides not to push it. Instead he sighs and turns around, walking back to the rest of the team to tell them your, admittedly simple, plan.

Day 1

Steve volunteers to be the first one to watch over Bucky, hoping that he’ll wake up within a day and then everything will go back to normal.

“Hey, Buck.”  He says quietly as he sits down on the chair next to Bucky’s bed. 

“This is weird…” He says more to himself while studying Bucky’s face. “Should I talk to you? What should I even say to you? I don’t know, man…”

Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “You’ve known me my whole life. My entire, overextended life… Is there really anything you don’t know about me yet? Well, maybe…” 

Steve knows there’s something he hasn’t told Bucky. It’s something he hasn’t told anyone, really. But he needs to get it off his chest, so he takes a deep breath and decides to go for it.

“It’s hard, Buck… This whole hero thing.” He says quietly while looking at his lap. “I got into this life to help people, that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, but… I never thought it’d be this hard.”

Steve plays with his fingers as he talks. He knows Bucky probably can’t hear him, he can’t even see him at the moment, but he still feels guilty about what he’s saying. 

“Remember during the war, how we used to think about going home after it was all over and find a nice gal, settle down, have a family…” Steve can’t help but smile at the memory of all the times they spent in bars between fights with the Howling Commandos, just fantasizing about what their lives would be like after the war was over. “I know what I have with Natasha is real, and I love her, and you got pretty lucky too.” He smirks at Bucky while thinking about his relationship with you. 

“But this isn’t really the life we imagined, is it?” His smile falls. He can’t help but feel like saying these things out loud make him look selfish. But who better to understand him than his best friend, who went through something very similar? So he keeps going.

“This job, man… People depend on us to keep them safe, and that’s a lot of responsibility on its own, but being Captain America…” Steve scoffs, just the title he was given all those years ago now carries a weight he can’t escape. “It’s exhausting.” 

Steve finally looks up at Bucky, half expecting him to be looking at him with an irritated expression, but Bucky’s still unconscious, his face still and peaceful, almost as if he’s merely sleeping.

“I try to be perfect all the time, but, outside this team, no one wants me to be myself… They want me to be the version of myself that they like. The version that serves them better.” Steve leans in, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes focused on Bucky’s face. “But I’ve always known I could be myself with you. ‘That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run away from a fight’, right?” 

Steve laughs. That’s how Bucky described him. Even after the serum, that’s how Bucky always saw him.

“That’s me… You’ve always seen me for who I was, not who you needed me to be…” He takes Bucky’s hand in his. “Even when I had nothing, I had you… And I know what you’d tell me if you were awake,” 

Steve chuckles, knowing his stubborn best friend would insist Steve would be fine even without him. “I have the Avengers, I found myself a family, I’ll be okay…” He pauses thinking about the team, but then he gets to you and his smile falls again. “But her.” 

He knows he doesn’t have to say anything more. If Bucky were awake, he would immediately understand Steve’s talking about you. “For her it’s different.” Steve says quietly. Everybody knows how much Bucky means to you. “You’re everything to her, Bucky.”

Day 2

Bucky still hasn’t woken up, but you can’t bring yourself to watch over him and Natasha can see it on your face when Steve suggested you’d be the next one on Bucky watch, so she offers to go instead of you like the good big sister she is.

“Hi, Barnes.” She says when she sits down on the same chair Steve spent the day on yesterday. “I think we both know I’m only here for your little doll.” Natasha teases with a small smirk before she gets more serious.

“She can’t face this yet…” Natasha says quietly, thinking about your face just moments ago. “She doesn’t believe she’s as strong as we both know she is.”

Natasha knows you haven’t slept much, the darkening circles under your eyes give you away.

“But I get it,” she sighs “you mean so much to her.” She’s never seen you as happy as you are since you started dating Bucky, and she knows you’d do anything to protect that. Hell, Natasha herself would do anything to protect something as pure as your relationship with Bucky.

“Our whole lives, all she wanted was what she has with you now.” Natasha smiles sadly at Bucky. “And now that she’s found it, it’s hard for her to face reality and admit to herself that she might lose it…” 

Natasha sighs and shakes her head, thinking about everything organizations like Hydra and the Red Room took from all of them, and how they’re still managing to hurt them even after all these years.

“You know,” She says after a moment of silence “I’ve never been homesick. Because there was no place I belonged to.”

She knows Bucky felt the same way for the longest time, and she wants to give him the same hope she had. “And then I got this, this job… This family. And you’re part of that family too, Bucky.”

She leans in and scans Bucky’s face, looking for any signs that he might be conscious, but she finds nothing. 

“None of us are ready to lose that. To lose you.” She tries to drive home the point by taking his hand. “You have a family again, a family that cares for you.” 

“And you can’t do this to her… You know you can’t.” She adds after another moment of silence. “All our lives, she’s been looking for a home… You are her home, Bucky.”

Day 3

“Hey, man.” Sam sits down on the chair next to Bucky’s bed. 

“I know, I know, I’m probably the last person you want here…” Sam chuckles. “But that’s too damn bad for you, because I’m gonna be here anyway.”

Sam looks at Bucky, it feels kind of weird for him to see him without the scowl that’s usually directed at him. “Oh, how I wish I could know what’s going on in that big cyborg brain of yours…” Sam says with a small grin. 

“If you were awake you’d be glaring at me. Is it weird that I kind of miss it?” He wonders out loud. “Two days without your annoying staring problem is two days too long…” 

Sam chuckles again. He knows Bucky would be threatening his life at this point if he were awake. Not that he’d ever follow through with his threats, though. Sam sighs.

“I know you don’t want me getting all sappy on you, but… I never did tell you why I tease you so much, did I?” Sam says quietly as he sits back on his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ve asked me repeatedly why, but you don’t really expect an answer when you do…”

A lot of the conversations between them end with Bucky asking Sam why he’s such a pain in his ass while Sam, and anyone else witnessing the exchange for that matter, just laugh. Even you.

“But here I am, giving you one anyway.” Sam says with a grin. At this point he’s almost hoping that if he annoys Bucky enough, he’ll wake up just to kick his ass. 

“You know how they say ‘we accept the love we think we deserve’? Well, I know how little love you truly believe you deserve.” Sam has never said these things out loud, especially not to Bucky because he knows that wouldn’t end up well for anybody. But now he feels like he has to.

“Thing is…” Sam says quietly, taking the rare moment where Bucky is not rolling his eyes or glaring at him to be honest. “You deserve so much more than you care to admit, Bucky.” 

He looks out the window for a moment before looking back at Bucky.

“And I’m gonna mess with you, and make fun of you, and tease you like friends do.” He says defiantly, almost challenging Bucky to stop him. “Because, whether you like it or not, I am your friend.”

Sam grins at Bucky, wishing he was awake just so Sam could see Bucky’s face as he annoys him. “You have people that care about you, Bucky. You have a whole team that does.” 

Sam says sincerely with an easy smile, but then he sighs. He knows, if Bucky could reply, he wouldn’t want to believe what Sam’s saying. Ever the stubborn one, that man.

“Look Bucky, I know you believe you’re hard to love…” Sam says quietly, thinking about his next words carefully with you in mind. “But she loves you like it’s breathing, man.”

Day 4 

“Good morning, Bucky.” Wanda says as she enters Bucky’s room in the medbay. “How are you feeling?”

She sits down and sighs. “Yeah, I know, I could easily just look into your mind and see for myself, like Tony has been bugging me to do since all this started, but…” She pauses and smiles softly at Bucky. “I made you a promise.”

Bucky didn’t trust Wanda when he first met her. He knew she had ties to Hydra, he knew she could control his mind and he had enough of that for a lifetime.

“I’ve never entered one of our friend’s minds on principle, but I know how important it was to you that I willingly promised you outright.” She says softly while remembering the look on his face when she seeked him out to relieve his worries. “It didn’t take a mind reader to see the weight being lifted off your shoulders when I actually said the words…” 

After that Bucky seemed less guarded around her, they even had some conversations about their experiences with Hydra, and Bucky came to understand where Wanda was coming from.

“And I get it, you’ve had no control over your own mind for the longest time, you don’t want anyone else in there.” Wanda says quietly “You trust me not to, and I’d never betray that trust.” 

She’s proud that she was able to gain Bucky’s trust, and she’d never do anything to lose that.

“You and I both know what it’s like to have nothing,” She sits back on her chair, her eyes on the window. “and we both value trust above all else, having had no one to trust for the longest time.” 

“After I got these… These powers…” She looked at the red energy coming out her fingers while they played with it. “I knew people saw me differently. I knew they feared me…”

Her Sokovian accent comes out more as she gets emotional, her eyes leaving her hand as she looks back at Bucky. “And Hydra conditioned you to expect people to fear you, too.” She says sadly. “But we can’t control other people’s fears. Only our own.”

That’s a lesson that took her a while to learn, but it’s an important one for both of them.

“We’re not monsters.” She says with conviction, like she’s trying to convince him more than just remind him, before adding. “We are all born so beautiful… The greatest tragedy is being convinced we’re not.”

Wanda smiles, that’s another lesson that was hard to learn, but luckily for them they had someone to help them believe it.

“You know who taught us that, who helped us really believe it…” Wanda chuckles softly, thinking about how you went above and beyond for both her and Bucky. Even before you started dating him, you wanted to make him see himself the way you saw, and still see him. 

“She believes wholeheartedly that you’re beautiful. I don’t need to use my powers to see the way her eyes, her face, her whole soul lights up when she looks at you…” Wanda feels like he needs to remind Bucky what he has. If he’s fighting, he needs to know what he’s fighting for. “You’re her hope, and her peace… You’re her whole world, Bucky.”

Day 5 

“Hello, Mr. Barnes, sir.” Peter says shyly as he hesitantly sits down on the chair, almost expecting Bucky to look at him and tell him not to do that because Bucky always insists Peter call him by his nickname like everybody, but Peter never does.

“I’m sorry, I know you hate it when I do that.” Peter scratches the back of his neck nervously. “You always say ‘just because I have a few decades on you, it doesn’t mean you have to call me sir’.”

Peter chuckles. “I know that, but I can’t help it… It’s not because you’re older,” Peter quickly reassures him. “It’s because I respect you. I admire you, really…” Peter blushes a little at the admission, but after all Bucky is a war hero and a role model.

“Everything you went through, even before Hydra…” He trails off, glancing at Bucky with a pained expression before continuing. “It made you stronger. You’ve always been able to help people, even without being a supersoldier.” 

Peter remembers the conversations he had with Bucky, after the man got used to the 16-year-old’s enthusiasm and energy, where Peter’s curiosity and genuine interest of what he had to say brought them hours of Bucky recalling what it was like to live in the 40s and through a war.

“You had a duty back then… To protect your country, your family and your friends… It was a responsibility, albeit a terrible one at that.” Peter says admiringly, recalling how shocked he had been when Bucky told him he got drafted and didn’t enlist like it says in his exhibit at the Smithsonian. “But you know what it’s like, to do what you have to do because it’s the right thing…” 

“I know you look at me and see a younger version of Mr. Rogers… Young and small and in need of help…” Peter says after a moment of silence, chuckling at the similarities he felt he shared with the pre-serum version of Steve before Peter got his powers. “And I get it, I spent my whole life like that… And then I got this opportunity.”

Peter looks at his hands, knowing what he can do with them alone is extraordinary. But he didn’t feel like he deserved it when it first happened.

“It was an accident. A fluke, a mistake…” He said quietly, words he’d never said out loud but he’s said to himself countless times. “But it gave me a chance to help people.” He says, now very proud of the opportunity he’s been given.

“When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t… And then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.” He says while smiling at the memory of telling Tony that when he first recruited him. “And I know fighting is the right thing to do, but it’s also a lot for me to take on…” His voice gets quieter.

“And it took me a while to get the hang of it. I still struggle with it sometimes…” He admits sheepishly. 

“But, ‘just because you took longer than others, doesn't mean you failed.’” He says before smiling at Bucky. “Remember that, kid.’” he says imitating Bucky’s deep voice with a chuckle.

“You told me that, sir. And I always remember that.” He says, proud of himself. “I’m doing my best, and that’s what matters…” His smile falters when he then sees you pass Bucky’s medbay room, like you do a few times a day even if you still can’t bring yourself to enter it.

“She’s doing her best too, Mr. Barnes.” Peter says quietly, looking worriedly at you. “To keep herself together, to not break down… To not lose hope.” 

Peter looks back at Bucky and leans in, like he’s telling him a secret. “But I can tell it’s getting harder. She can’t sleep, or eat, she can’t stop thinking about you but she can’t bear to see you like this…” 

Peter almost hoped that telling him this would be enough to make Bucky wake up, but he understands that it’s more complicated than just willpower. Peter sighs and leans back in his chair, his eyebrows furrowed with worry as he looks at Bucky. “You have to come back to her, Bucky.”

Day 6 

You almost shove Tony into Bucky’s room. Everybody else is busy, most of the team being out on missions, and you still can’t bring yourself to see him.

“Hey, Terminator, how’s the coma going?” You groan loudly enough for him to hear while yelling ‘Tony!’ from outside and he chuckles. “Kidding, kidding…” 

Tony reluctantly sits down on the chair next to Bucky’s bed. It’s not like he hates him, they have slowly developed a relationship. It’s not quite enough to call it a true friendship, but it’s enough for them to get along when they’re in a group setting, they just don’t spend any time just the two of them. 

“Fine, let’s level, Barnes.” Tony says with a sigh after several minutes of silence. “I know we’ve had a rocky relationship from the start, but you have to see where I’m coming from.” 

Tony thinks back at what happened in Siberia. He feels guilty about it now, but in the moment he was in the eye of the tornado. He couldn’t see a way out.

“Seeing you do those things on camera… It did something to me. And then that’s all I could see, your hand around my mom’s throat…” He trails off, swallowing hard as the memory comes rushing back. “But that wasn’t your fault.” He concedes after another moment of silence. 

“You know how they say that villains deserve to have their stories told from their own point of view?” He asks rhetorically, knowing Bucky can’t answer. “I never believed that. I thought it was just an excuse for bad people to justify their actions… A ‘you don’t know what drove me here, so you can’t judge my actions, as bad as they may seem to you’ type of thing.”

He glances down before looking back at Bucky with a small smile. “And then I met you. And I tried to kill you…” He chuckles awkwardly, then sighs. “But I’m glad I didn’t succeed. I’d never been able to get to know you, to understand your side of things… You’re a pretty badass dude.”

Tony smiles at Bucky. Even he has to admit that Bucky has made so much progress. He’s opened up more than anyone would’ve expected, he cares about the team, he laughs and jokes around with everybody. He’s not as guarded as he used to be, he’s truly a part of their evergrowing, eccentric family.

“I know I should’ve told you this a long time ago. It’s always been kind of implied, but…” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t blame you for what happened to my parents. Not anymore.” 

He pauses, he’s never actually said the words out loud, but right now he needs to.

“But I will blame you if you leave her like this…” He says playfully before adding more seriously. “She needs you, Bucky. More than you know, maybe even more than you need her.”

He’s never actually called him by his name, but he knows this is important and doesn’t find it in himself to come up with some funny nickname.

“Everybody wants a happy ending, and you’re hers.” He adds after another second. “And I know, part of the journey is the end, but… It’s not time for your end yet. Don’t leave her like this.” 

Day 7 

You can’t put it off any longer.

The team is out on various missions, you’re the only one in the compound along with a still unconscious Bucky. You take a deep, shaky breath and enter his room.

For a moment you stand in the doorway, tempted to run out as far and fast as you can. But you need to do this.

You walk to his bedside and bite your lip as you look at his peaceful face. Steve was right, he looks like he’s just sleeping. But you know better.

“Hi, baby…” You say quietly as you run your fingers through his hair softly. “I know, I’m sorry I haven’t… I haven’t been here.”

You feel guilty that you haven’t been taking care of him like you should. “But seeing you like this… It just hurts so bad.” You know it’s selfish. He’s the one that you should be caring for, but all you can preoccupy yourself with is your own feelings. “I want to be strong for you and I’m sorry I can’t…” 

You sit down on the chair next to his bed, gently taking his flesh hand in yours, and it’s as warm as it’s always been. For a few moments you do nothing more than just look at him, the beeping of the machines becoming background noise. You almost hope he’ll wake up out of sheer willpower, but you know it won’t happen.

“I need you to wake up, Bucky. Please…” You say quietly, almost pleading with him as tears start to come to your eyes, but you try your best to hold them back. “I need to see your smile, and your beautiful blue eyes, even if they are rolling in annoyance at some stupid pun I made.” 

You chuckle at the thought of all those times that he rolled his eyes at you when you made bad puns and dad jokes, only to laugh a second later. 

Not even because he found them funny, but because of the look you’d give him. Like you were doing everything you could not to laugh, because to you those silly jokes were the funniest thing ever, and he loved how much joy they brought you. 

And that was nothing compared to the way your eyes would light up when he’d laugh, like your greatest accomplishment in life was bringing him joy, even when both of you were entirely aware that it’s not the jokes that he enjoys. 

It’s you.

“I need to hear your voice and feel your touch… You’re everything to me, baby… Everything I need, everything I love…” You pause and bite your lip.

Love. That’s a word you two haven’t said yet. You feel it, you show it, you both know it. But you don’t say it.

Is this the best moment to say it for the first time? Probably not, but, with some hesitation, you say it anyway.

“You are love. When I think of love, when I hear it, when I say it… It’s you, just you, filling my head.” You reach out to caress his cheek. “It’s just you. I love you, Bucky. I’m sorry I’m telling you like this, and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner… But I need you to wake up  so I can tell you. I need you to hear it, I… I need you, Bucky.” Your tears start to fall without you even noticing. 

“I can’t lose you… I’m not ready… No one ever is, but I can’t…” Your voice breaks and you try to stifle a sob but fail miserably. “I can’t do this without you, Jamie... Just please wake up...” 

You wrap your arm around Bucky's, your other hand holding onto his like it's the only thing keeping him, and you, alive. Like you almost expect to hear the monitors flatlining if you were to let go. 

So you don't, you lay your head on his arm and allow yourself to break for the first time all week and your voice becomes a whisper. “Please…”

Day 8 

Somehow you managed to fall asleep, the first time you’ve slept in a week, still holding onto Bucky’s arm. 

When you wake up the next morning there’s a few moments where you forget everything that happened. You try to get up from the bed, but feel a weight on your stomach and when you look down you see Bucky’s arm holding onto you. 

Suddenly everything that happened in the past week comes rushing back and, at the same time, you realize you’re no longer in the medbay but instead you’re laying on the bed of yours and Bucky’s shared bedroom.

Confused as to how you ended up here and still a little sleepy, you look up with a frown to see Bucky already looking down at you with a goofy grin.

“Bucky!” You all but yell while throwing yourself at him, pushing him onto his back and straddling him. You hug him tightly as he chuckles at your more than enthusiastic reaction.

You feel his arms wrapping around you as he hugs you back. You want to look at him, but part of you is terrified that if you were to let go he'd disappear. You'd wake up and realize this was just a dream and Bucky is still unconscious.

“Doll,” That simple word, his deep voice was all you needed to confirm this is indeed real and he's awake “you're kind of crushing me here, sweetheart.” Bucky teases you playfully, but he doesn't mean it and you both know it. 

Even though you are clinging to him like a koala bear, it doesn't bother him in the slightest. He just wants you to look at him.

You reluctantly pull away from Bucky’s neck just enough to look into his eyes. He brings his hand up to stroke your cheek softly and you instinctively lean into his touch. 

You close your eyes for a second before they snap open again as you realize there’s something you need to tell him.

“I love you.” You take his face in your hands. “I love you so fucking much. And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I ju-”

Bucky interrupts what he’s sure it’s gonna be a long rant that ends with you unnecessarily apologizing a bunch of times by placing his hands on yours on his face and squeezing them softly, bringing you back to the present.

“I know, doll.” he says simply and you frown a little.

Sure, you’ve both always known you had deep feelings for each other, but he seems pretty sure when you have never actually said the words.

Bucky can see the wheels turning in your head and, chuckling, he decides to solve the mystery for you. “I heard you. I could hear everything while I was unconscious.” 

“You could?” you ask, blushing a little now that you know he heard you breaking down. You’re glad he now knows the depth of your feelings for him, but it’s still a little embarrassing.

“I could,” he says with a smirk. “It's gonna make for a lot of interesting conversations with the team.”

You can’t help but laugh, you’re not sure what the rest of the team talked to him about, but if they were all as emotional as you then Bucky’s gonna have a field day discussing all of that with equally embarrassed Avengers.

Suddenly, Bucky brings your face down to his and kisses you. You make no attempt to resist and actually whine a little when he pulls away, which makes him chuckle at your antics.

“I love you too, baby.” He says softly while stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. “You’re everything to me. My best friend, the love of my life, my very reason to live.”

You feel your tears starting to gather again but, even if this time they’re of joy, you still don’t let them fall.

Before you can say anything though, the door of our room slams open and you can barely understand what’s happening before Steve, Wanda, Peter, Natasha, Sam and Tony throw themselves on the bed, crushing you while they all yell at the same time, the chorus of joy being along the lines of ‘Bucky’s alive’.

Bucky’s arms around you tighten while he tries to protect you from the team’s attack as best as he can while the two of you laugh at your friend’s antics.

You may have had the worst week of your life, but it’s over now. And while you’re looking forward to having some time alone with Bucky, right now you’re happy to be squished under a pile of shouting Avengers.

This just feels right. As weird as your life, and your family is, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

[onlyforyoukook]

Weirdo in a sexy body || JJH

paring: jaehyun x f!reader

synopsis: y/n met jaehyun at a pub, she didn’t expect to fall for him so quickly — because of his lame jokes.

genre: one shot!

WARNINGS: MDNI🔞 — smut, oral (f receiving).

The pub smelled like spilled beer and heartbreak, the kind of place where lost souls gathered to drown their sorrows in liquor and dim lighting. You’d been sitting at the bar for an hour, your drink untouched despite the storm raging in your chest. The weight of betrayal clung to you, heavy and bitter, as Taylor’s name echoed in your mind. Your best friend. The one who’d promised to help you figure out who your father had been sneaking around with. Turns out, it had been her all along.

The realization had shattered something inside you, leaving jagged pieces that no amount of whiskey seemed to smooth over. You’d come here for answers, for solace, for something. Anything to make the ache stop. Instead, you found yourself staring, watching him. Jaehyun.

You’d seen him before, his deep voice carrying through the room on mic nights, telling jokes that always managed to bring a smile to your face—even on your worst days. Tonight, he wasn’t on stage, but his presence still radiated warmth. He was sitting at a table, nursing a drink and laughing with a group of friends. He didn’t notice you at first, but you noticed him. You always had.

It wasn’t until you waved the bartender over for another drink that Jaehyun’s eyes met yours. His gaze lingered, soft and curious, before he offered a small smile. You didn’t return it. Not because you weren’t tempted, but because you were too consumed by the mess Taylor had left behind to entertain the idea of smiling back.

Yet, somehow, Jaehyun didn’t let you wallow in your misery for long. A few minutes later, he was standing beside you, his presence both comforting and unnerving.

“Rough night?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, as though he didn’t need to shout over the noise around you.

You glanced at him, unwilling to pour your heart out to a stranger, no matter how good-looking he was. “You could say that.”

Jaehyun leaned against the bar, studying you like you were the most interesting person in the room. “Let me guess. Ex problems? Job stress? Or are you just here for the atmosphere?”

You scoffed, surprised by how easily he’d managed to get a reaction out of you. “None of the above. More like betrayal by the last person I thought would hurt me.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, you forgot about Taylor, your father, and the ache in your chest. “Sounds like you need something stronger than that,” he said, nodding at your drink.

Before you could respond, he ordered two shots of tequila, sliding one toward you with a wink. “On me. It might not fix anything, but it’ll make you feel better. Temporarily, at least.”

You hesitated, but something about the way he looked at you made it impossible to say no. The tequila burned on the way down, but it wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, it felt oddly freeing, like you were finally letting go of the weight you’d been carrying.

One drink turned into two, then three. Before you knew it, you were laughing at his jokes, the kind that made your sides hurt and your cheeks ache. He had a way of making you forget everything else, his energy infectious and his smile disarming.

“You’re not like the others,” you blurted out at one point, your words slurred from alcohol but genuine.

Jaehyun tilted his head, his eyes locking onto yours. “The others?”

“The guys I’ve met here,” you clarified, your voice quieter now. “They’re all the same. But you… you’re different.”

Something flickered in his expression, a mix of curiosity and something deeper. He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe you just needed someone to see you tonight.”

The air between you shifted, heavy with something neither of you could name. His hand brushed against yours, a fleeting touch that sent shivers down your spine.

“Come with me,” he said suddenly, his voice rougher than before.

“Where?” you asked, your heart racing for reasons you didn’t understand.

He didn’t answer, just took your hand and led you through the crowd, past tables and curious glances, until you reached the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind you, and suddenly, it was just the two of you.

Your back pressed against the wall, and before you could think, his lips were on yours, hot and demanding. It was messy and desperate, the kind of kiss that left no room for hesitation. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hands gripped your waist.

“Are you sure?” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm on your skin.

You didn’t answer with words, just pulled him closer, your actions speaking louder than anything you could say. You both sat there messily kissing. That was until he pulled back.

“Hey you sure you’re up for this?” Jaehyun spoke.

“Yes I am, I really am. Please just…” You quietly mumbled

“Please what?” he spoke.

“Just please fuck me, im tired of waiting.”

He quickly got on his knees, and rolled down your underwear. As he was doing so he ran his fingers across your slit.

“Wow so wet for me, and I didn’t even start yet.” he spoke huskily.

He easily slid his to fingers inside of you, while he was licking your clit, fucking his fingers in and out of you, making you see the clouds above. you’re know moaning so loud, you wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the pub could hear you.

“J-jae w-wait im going to c-cum.” you moaned out

“C’mon, cum for me baby.” he start to slow down his pace, quickly picking it up once more.

“Ughhhhh Fuckkk” you moaned out as you came all around his fingers.

He quickly got up from his knees licking your cum from his fingers. You notice his boner.

“Jae what about… that?” you point to his pants.

He looked down rubbing the back of his neck “Oh this.. I’ll deal with it later. though here’s my number, give me a call anytime, i’ll be waiting.”

“Okay jae.. I’ll see you tomorrow, no?”

“yes.”

MASTERLIST

[abiatackerman]

Too Late

Warnings: Angst, character death.

You knock on Levi's room while your heart is beating loudly with excitement and nervousness.

Today you're here to confess your love to him.

You love him a lot! Crazily! So madly that if he insults you even a little, you wanna cry like hell. Maybe he understands that because you noticed he doesn't act rough or rude around you. Not to mention he always inspects if you're getting a proper meal three times a day, getting enough sleep, maintaining cleanliness and all... Also he always seems to save you whenever you're in danger.

These things gave you hope because he never does these things with anyone else but you. Maybe he likes you? Maybe he'll accept your feelings? Because you don't know what'll you do if he rejects you.

"Name and business!"

You are pulled out of your thoughts when you hear his rough voice. You speak nervously as always.

"Y/N, captain. Need to discuss something with you."

"Come in and make it quick!"

He replies calmly as you enter his room. He's sitting on his chair, doing paperwork. He's looking handsome as always. In your eyes he's always handsome.... You gulp nervously as Levi looks directly at your face and you start speaking as clearly as you can.

"Captain, I just wanted to thank you for being caring towards me and for always protecting me...."

You look at him as you try to speak those three words but they won't just come out of your damn mouth. You're too nervous.

"I'm just doing my duty. Are you finished? If you're, then leave."

He says calmly and looks back into the papers as you gulp again. You feel your heart clenches a bit to his rude reply. So you take a deep breath and speak bluntly and quickly.

"Captain, I love you."

Levi's hand pauses on the paper as he slowly looks up at you. You try to search for some emotions in his face. But there are none. He's looking nonchalant as always. You feel nervous as hell as his lips move. You wanna run away. You don't wanna hear the words....

"Y/N, we're in a middle of a war, fighting for humanity. Our hearts are dedicated to humanity, not to some particular person. I've noticed you're a soft person so I decided to act kindly towards you because I hate tantrums and unnecessary problems. But it seems like you took my kindness into something else. I didn't expect that from you and I definitely don't appreciate it."

You flinch as you feel your eyes immediately tear up. You don't want to sob in front of him or even cry.... But you can't just stop.

"Did you not..... Ever.... Felt anything towards me?"

You ask as your head is hung low and tears keep falling shamelessly on your cheeks. You somehow manage to stop your sobs because you were always the type who cries silently.

"I don't like to repeat myself. I have told you, you took my kindness into something else."

You flinch again as you nod. You take your steps back.

"I'm sorry for wasting your precious time, captain. It won't happen again, I promise."

You say in a broken voice as you leave the room, closing it behind you.

Time skip

Levi clicks his tongue in frustration as he looks around for you. The expedition has ended and the scouts have temporarily been on a spot near the walls just to count the dead bodies and take a note of the missing peoples.

Levi feels his heart beating loudly as he can't find your face anywhere. During the expedition and due to the appearance of some abnormal titans the formation was broken and Levi lost you.

You weren't under his wings, his protection who knows what happened to you? He can't think of your death... He can't! He can't lose you.

"Levi! We have found Y/N"

He immediately looks at Erwin as he hears his voice but flinches. He doesn't like the look Erwin has on his face.

In this whole world only Erwin knows how much Levi loves you....

He glares at Erwin as Erwin looks at him sympathetically. Levi knows the news is bad.

"Don't give me that shitty look Erwin."

Levi hisses and walks towards the place where the new rows of dead bodies are being laid down. He immediately notices yours.... How can't he? You silky soft hair which he always loved is propping out of the white sheet which is covering your body.

He slowly walks towards your body as he kneels down and removes the white sheet from your face. You're laying comfortably, with your eyes closed. It's like you're just sleeping comfortably in your barracks when he would just sneak into your room to check up on you.

But why is he's eyes tearing up? No... He definitely isn't the type of person to cry... Then why his tears are falling on your sleeping face?

Maybe because he has realised that he won't ever have the chance to tell you how much he loves you? Because he won't be able to apologise to you, explaining why he rejected you....

He won't be able to tell you that he thought you two still had enough time. He thought you were safe under his wings and he'll protect you until he'll get the chance to propose to you. He won't be able to tell you how much he dreamt of marrying you, having children with you, spending his whole life with you...

He won't be able to tell you anything....

He covers your face with the sheet as he stands up. His face is stoic and cold and there's no signs of tears in his eyes. He's face is still the same as before as he walks towards his horse.

He never regretted his decision.... But sure as hell, he's regretting rejecting you and he always will....

He wishes he could just accept your feelings and tell you how crazily he loves you.

But it's too late now.

Too late to let you know how he feels.... Too late to save you.......

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Not Man, Nor Monster

Masterlist Word count: 1.5 k Halsin x Reader x Astarion (but he isn't really in it. just the dynamic) Read on AO3

Summary: You tried so hard, but in the end you couldn't stop Astarion's ascension. It weighs on you harder than you had imagined. Halsin helps you get through it.

Normally, camp is a place to unwind. A place where the outside world doesn't exist, except for those nights where the outside world infiltrates camp. Luckily, those nights are few and far between.   Tonight is a different situation. There are two empty tents. One is permanently empty, the other temporarily abandoned to find peace in nature. The one belongs to Astarion, the other to Tav. The rest of the group thought about going after either of them to try and talk this through, but Jaheira made the wise decision to let everything cool down before starting a conversation.  There's a blanket of tension and gloom thrown over the camp as everyone tries to dance around the subject at hand. Jaheira, Halsin, and Gale sit around the campfire, all three hopelessly lost while looking for something to talk about while a bottle of mermaid whiskey gets passed around in circles that seem to go a little too fast. Scratch and Honey, the owlbear Tav jokingly named after Halsin's favourite snack, scatter around but aren't playing as they usually do. It seems even the two of them can feel the tension. Scratch had to be called back multiple times while trying to go after Tav.  Gale finally breaks the silence: 'So what do we do now?' Jaheira shows a pained smile as the mermaid whiskey is passed to her. The bottle is almost empty by now.  'We drink and we wait,' she speaks. Halsin shivers. Quite the sight to see someone that big shiver.  'This doesn't feel right.' As if on que, a bloodcurdling scream is heard from the forest. It is loaded with regret, pain, and heartbreak. The scream goes through bone and marrow, sending a cold shiver down the spines of everyone at camp. Shadowheart comes running towards the campfire, panic in her eyes.  'I think someone should check up on them,' she hastily says, almost getting ready to run into the woods but Halsin gets up and nods to her. She looks defeated and maybe a little annoyed. Jaheira pats the spot on the ground where Halsin was sitting as he walks calmy towards the forest. 'But I-'  'It's better if he goes,' Jaheira interrupts, 'those two are inseparable.' Shadowheart knows it to be true but still looks hesitant as she sits down. Jaheira passes her the mermaid whiskey. She toys with the bottle for a second before finishing it off. 

'Tav, are you here?' Halsin doesn't have to ask, he is one with the forest and knows every creature there. He simply does it to be polite, to give Tav a chance to tell him to piss off if they so please. He finds them curled up and sobbing, laying in the middle of a small clearing. They look up at Halsin with big, red eyes. He hates the sight and would kill Astarion for doing this to Tav but they are more important than his murderous rage right now.  He sits down next to them and they lay their head in his lap. Halsin gently brushes his fingers through their hair, allowing them to let it all go, let everything slip out.  'He told me he'd make me his spawn, after everything we've been through. He tried to do to me what has been done to him. I should've never helped him with the ritual. I am so stupid.'  'No darling, you couldn't predict this. You see the good in everyone, that's what makes you so incredibly special. It is one of many reasons why I love you.'  'You know, that's the worst part. He told me he loved me before proposing to make me his spawn. How can someone be so incredibly cruel? He was healing and this just changed everything.'  'It pains me to see you like this. No one deserves that kind of treatment.'  'But I do. I am far too naïve to fight this fight. I shouldn't be leading a group of people into battle. I'm not strong enough. I make too many stupid decisions.' Halsin can feel as the pain and sadness Tav feels turns into rage and self-hatred. It's something he's never seen of them before. They're normally the sunshine smile at camp, the motivator, the helper. He must've been blind to forget they're a person with fears and insecurities too. Blinded in the light of their smile as to not see the shadows behind it.  'My heart, if not you then who? You are the only one in this camp without a clouded opinion. The only one who weighs every option evenly and thinks ahead. Sometimes I feel like you can see into the future.'  'Even so, I let someone with such a black heart cloud my judgement for so long. I can only be grateful that you saw through all of it. Not everyone at camp is as forgiving as you are.'  'My love, I am not forgiving in the slightest. I hold grudges until the end of time but you always see reason.'  'Halsin, please. I know you're trying to make it better, but I just want to wallow in my feelings until I can't feel anything anymore.'  'Are you sure?'  'No, but your words usually soothe me. Now they only piss me off. I don't want to hate you.' Their breath hitches in their throat as the sobs come up again. Halsin lays himself down in the grass and pats his chest. Tav takes the invitation and lays their head on his chest, curled into his body with his arm around them, holding them tight. It feels like a safety blanket, like a cloud numbing the feelings of before. The big feelings weighing on their chest seem to lose their weight as a spell of tiredness lifts over them. Surely, Halsin has something to do with it, as well as the protective spell they feel encasing them in their spot, but they don't mind. And slowly night becomes day. 

'They're not back yet,' Shadowheart asks Jaheira while they're both suiting up.  'No, and I doubt we'll head out today.' Jaheira can tell that, while she's trying to be respectful and loving, it annoys Shadowheart that Tav can't shove their feelings to the side in favour of the greater good. 'They'll be fine soon. They're strong but you have to realize that they've been playing the part of listening ear for weeks now. Maybe even months. They've listened to everyone's troubles and tried to fix them. Astarion was a real piece of work but even I could see he was starting to regain self-worth and love for life. Besides, they were together for some time. They did everything they could to make Astarion as comfortable and happy as possible and he still stabbed them in the back. That's not something you come back from easily.'  'What do you mean?'  'You did not hear what he proposed to her last night?'  'No, it is not my business.'  'You should make it your business,' Jaheira grumbles, 'he told them he loved them and he'd make them his spawn to love forever.'  'I see. It makes more sense now.' 

Morning light wakes Tav with a comforting thumping under their head. They open their eyes to see Halsin still peacefully sleeping. The protective spell he covered them with has long worn off and so has the sleeping spell he put on them. A smile spreads on their lips as they push themselves up to press the sweetest of kisses on his lips. They did not want his help yesterday but are more than glad he put them to sleep. Nothing they thought or said was rational yesterday.  'You are going to give me toothaches if you keep kissing me that sweetly.'  'I thought you liked sweet.'  'I never said I do not.' A content feeling flushes over Tav as they lose themselves in this moment. There is still good in the world.  'I've been dreaming,' Tav tells halsin, 'I dreamt about a world overgrown with lush greenery and people living in peace with each other and everything around them. There was no Astarion, no elder brain, no tadpoles. Just you and me sitting on the porch of a tiny house we built looking out onto a lake. Sometimes we would go out and roam, uncover the forests around us and finding new spots each and every time. And you told me you loved me every day and I said it back every time.' Halsin smiles and tightens his arm around Tav.  'That sounds like heaven.'  'I wish it were possible.'  'Maybe it is. Maybe we'll find a way after all of this is over.' They stay quiet for a while.  'I think we'll need to kill Astarion after all of this is over. I fear he might be worse than Cazador.'  'As much as I wish it were different, I think you are right, but we'll get there when we get there.'  'Deal.'  'Are you ready to return to camp?'  'Not yet. Let's just stay a little longer.' 

[specialagentlokitty]

Negan x reader - trade skill

Hello. I was wondering if you could please do Negan X reader, where Negan is unable to find Lucille and thinks that someone has taken her. So he has people to search every area in Alexandria (I think it is), only to later find out that Y/N took Lucille in order to clean and repair her, and accidentally forgot to notify him. - Anon💜

You didn’t know why a lot of the saviours were taken to Alexandria, you had a thought maybe it had something to do with Rick not doing what he was supposed to be doing.

You weren’t all too sure but you didn’t really have the time to find out either, you were busy with your own project which is why you refused Dwight when he came to get you to go with him.

Was it the smartest choice?

Definitely not, and you knew you were going to get it in the neck from him and most likely Negan after, but you were always in some kind of trouble.

Sitting on your bed, you picked up the pair of wire cutters, carefully getting ready to cut the barbed wire.

You had already caught your arm once, you just tired a bandanna around it and carried on working.

You had to be careful, you didn’t was to break it, and you had to do everything exactly right otherwise you would be more screwed than you were going to be.

Setting the old barbed wire aside on the floor, you picked up the new one and looked at it.

It was a little rusted with the weather, but it was in a lot better condition than the other one.

Wrapping it around like the other was, you nodded to yourself a little.

Setting the bat aside, you got up, grabbing everything you had been using to fix it you shoved it into a box and left the room.

Making your way down to where the workers were, you walked over and set the box down.

“I’ve not used it all so I’m sure someone can get some use out of it.” You said.

The man looked up, nodding her head as she set the box on the floor.

Humming to yourself, you began to browse through the other things that were laid out on the table, looking for something of interest.

Finding nothing, you decided to head outside instead, looking for some part of a fallen tree or a decent sized branch for a new project.

“Hey (Y/N)?”

You looked to one of the other saviours.

“We got problem with the walkers out front, a few got free somehow.”

You sighed, stopped what you were doing and you pulled out your knife, following him to the front where some of the walkers were banging on the fence.

“You said a fucking few, this is a mini horde dumbass.”

He just shrugged and you glared at him.

“Go get the fucking pole idiot.”

He grabbed the pole and you tried to make quick work of clearing the walkers that were building up.

You heard the cars and trucks pulling up and you ignored it, stabbing the final walker in the head, you turned to the man who went to leave.

“Not so fast, you’re waiting here I’ll deal with your ass in a minute.”

Opening the gate, you walked through the bodies, maybe your way to the far end of the fence, slowly looking along it.

For the walkers to get in the gap would have had to be pretty big, so it wasn’t hard to finally find it.

Kneeling down, you carefully inspected the fence and grabbed some zip ties from your jacket to seal it temporarily for now.

Making your way back over you looked at Simon.

“Sort your dumbass out Simon, this fucker hasn’t been checking the fence, there’s a massive hole.”

“You fix things, you sort it.” He said.

“Not my job asshole.”

He stuck his middle finger up at you and you did the same thing, walking over to the doors to head back inside but you stopped by Dwight.

“What was the trip about anyway?”

He glanced at you.

“He’s pissed someone took that stupid bat of his, I’d stay clear.”

You slowly nodded your head and glanced at the leader.

You had three options, either sneak the bat back into his room, leave it somewhere for someone else or come clean.

You didn’t want someone else to take the heat for your actions, and you couldn’t exactly sneak it into his room so with a heavy sigh, you walked over to where he was stood.

“Negan?”

“What?” He snapped.

He turned around and glared at you and you subconsciously took a step back.

“I know where Lucille is…” you mumbled.

“Where?!”

“I uh… could you follow me?”

Negan didn’t say anything as he trailed behind you, and you took his to your room, opening the door and you gestured to the table.

He walked inside, picking up the bat, carefully inspecting it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with her?”

He slowly turned around and you stepped inside the room, closing the door so nobody passing by could look in.

“I uh.. I forgot to tell you…”

“What the fuck were you doing with her?” He growled out.

You sighed, heading under your table you pulled out a box and set it down, showing him to contents.

“I noticed that Lucille was breaking, and you left her on the table so I decided to fix her and forgot to tell you.”

“Why?”

You shrugged a little.

“I like fixing things a guess, plus you wouldn’t be Negan without Lucille.”

Negan stared at you and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but you could feel his eyes practically burning into you.

You couldn’t tell if he was still angry or not, and part of you didn’t want to know.

At least if he wanted to kill you for taking his beloved bat then you wouldn’t see it coming so it would make it easier.

“Look at me.”

You took the box, setting it back under the table and began to inspect a few of your things, just doing anything to avoid looking at him.

“I said look. At. Me.”

You turned around, connecting your eyes with his, he wore a blank expression and you watched as he slowly began to grin.

It was that grin that sent a chill down your spine, the same grin that you knew was the last thing some people saw.

“She looks just as good as the first day I made her, shit (Y/N), if I knew you were so handy I woulda moved you ranks ages ago.”

He put the bat on his shoulder, stuffing a hand in his pocket as he looked at you.

“What do you want? Name me one thing and it’s yours.”

“Anything?”

“Damn straight.”

You went quiet for a moment.

“You got anything else I can fix?”

Negan blinked a little in confusion.

“I just gave you permission to ask for anything, anything you fuckin’ want, anything at all, and you want to fix shit?”

You shrugged a little and he laughed.

“Fucking weird as ball man, but alright. I got a few things for you, you’re to return them directly to me.”

“Yes sir.”

Negan began looking around at a few things you had already repaired and made.

It was why he kept you around at first, you were just handy when it came to fixing something that had broke.

He turned around to look over at you.

“How’d you know how to fix her?”

You paused what you were doing.

“My dad owned a repair shop, mostly just household shit, but he could fix up other crap too, loved baseball.”

Negan slowly nodded his head.

“Next time you take Lucille without asked I’ll start breaking fingers.”

“Understood.”

He smirked at you, and he picked up a little figurine you had fixed of a baseball player you didn’t even know the name to.

“I’m taking this too.”

With that he left and you let out a sigh of relief.

Maybe you shouldn’t have drawn more attention to yourself, but in the world it was now, you needed to have people you could rely on, so you needed to prove yourself to Negan if you wanted a chance of being kept around and surviving.

Maybe you didn’t agree with how he did things, but you sometimes had to do these things in order to survive

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

I determined this by a roll. Caden is the lucky Sim and gets a knitting basket, in his favourite colour. Maybe he’ll be joining Agnes in the village square as she cross-stitches?

We add an easel to the lot which turns out to be less popular than the Watcher anticipated.

Another day, another pixel that despises cooking. And what’s this occurring in Moojito’s shed? Spencer! You’re supposed to be an IRRESPONSIBLE Sim - not that we’re complaining.

Piper rejects Avery’s cooking in favour of some grilled eggplant (and seems to be having a better time), while Caden receives a hug from our main girlie.

For some reason in spite of the general bonhomie of everyone else, she’s in a bit of a funk today so we leave it to GOOD traited Spencer to lend reassurances while Pauline looks on encouragingly.

Then she refuses an embrace from him. Yikes. 

Even though Lilac’s in a strange mood, she’s bringing all the attraction alerts to the yard.

In spite of last night’s party pooper Patchy in the background - not to mention Piper’s hand going through the back of Avery’s head - I think that everyone’s outside for some fresh country air and wholesome bonding time. But Lilac evidently had another kind of bondage in mind, and makes Avery an offer that they can’t refuse.

Evidently it was just ‘hugs’ that she wasn’t in the mood for today.

We’re going off-site today so with our bachelorette occupied, chore montage hour kicks off early. Spencer and Pauline were our gardeners, Aubrey fished, and Lilac eventually took care of Moojito with her job much easier thanks to Spencer.

The second to have his embrace spurned is Caden, who is so embarrassed that he goes upstairs to cry in the closet. I make him play chess for a skill building activity, while Piper swims.

No Aubrey, you cannot 'attempt to swipe' from your own residence. Just hang in there a few more minutes.

For this household’s mini competition to see who gets a solo date with the bachelorette, we are putting our singing pipes to use! Doubtless anticipating the humiliation that awaits, our pixels are very reluctant to go inside. 

Even the promise of nectar isn’t sufficient to lure them, so the Watcher temporarily sacrifices her screencaps and activates the social club.

Oh hey, it’s Lilac’s old buddy Jacques. Who takes the opportunity to steal Avery's drink.

Caden and Lilac are looking like a couple on date night until they’re joined by Lilac’s crush Avery - then Aubrey disrupts the mood as only a KLEPTOMANIAC sim can, attempting to swipe the… wall graffiti.

Surprisingly enough, it doesn’t work. I love Klepto sims.

When’s a better time to sing in public then after some failed theft embarrassment? Everyone is at such a low level of singing that we can only do that one country ballad. Pauline and Piper take it outside, while Caden discovers what many femme sims have known for decades and that the bathroom is the perfect place to make a new friend.

Caden must have received some encouragement from the toilet bot, as he becomes inspired and is the first sim to reach Level 2.

(part ii coming soon! when canva is back up)

@plasmafruittree @x-digitaldollhouse-x @mdshh

@invisiblequeen @sleepyselkiesims @akitasimblr

[genshin-side-piece]

Hazy Shade of Winter (Part 2)

Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Implied drug use, Mentions of alcohol, ]Non-Consensual Touching, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

A/N: Slightly (?) OOC Wriothesley. I think. I'm honestly not sure. But fair warning just to be safe. Follow up to Hazy Shade of Winter (Part 1)

There was no way to tell time in this place. Being miles under the surface meant no windows, which meant no real way to track the light. Wriothesley also didn’t seem that keen on clocks, or maybe, he wasn’t keen on them where you were concerned. It was a clever strategy, hiding something as essential as time from you.  Without it, you couldn’t gauge how long it had been since Wriothesley had left you. Nor could you know when he would be back. It might be minutes or it could be hours. You could only guess. What you were certain of was that the time you had been allowed was enough to at least feel marginally better. The hangover you’d suffered from thanks to the alcohol and the unnamed stuff had begun to ease. Though you still felt like you’d been struck by a water bus. Eventually, you found yourself capable of leaving the bed long enough to clean yourself up. It was a relief to finally rid yourself of the gritty taste in your mouth. It made you feel somewhat human again, even if it did nothing to change your circumstances. When you were satisfied, you retreated back to the bed, pulling the sheets and light comforter over you. There you stayed, hiding in the darkness. It lured you into the false belief that you were temporarily safe from the storm that was to come. Given your first encounter, you silently hoped that when he returned, Wriothesley would just leave you be. That he would pick on the fact that you cared as much for his rules as you did him and in turn, he would just go. It wasn’t like there was a rush to explain them anyway. You were a captive with no means of escape. From your point of view, he had all the time in the world to explain his expectations for you. His insistence on doing so first thing, when you weren’t even coherent, betrayed the cool facade that he had maintained since. He was excited. He was eager. No amount of sarcasm or dry humor would ever be able to hide that. 

Those emotions further betrayed him upon his eventual return.  Wriothesley tried to seem amicable, at least that’s what you thought. His true tone was muffled thanks to the blankets. You really didn’t care anyway. You only hoped he would get the message and leave. He didn’t. Instead, he ripped the blankets away from you, tearing away the illusion of safety you felt you had. “Still sleepy are we?” The wry tone in his voice did nothing to help. Nor did the tray of food he had brought with him. The sight of questionable sausage and what you thought was porridge made your stomach lurch. You tried to look at anything other than him or the tray; the walls, the ceiling, the door he had left open. Wait. Your eyes went back to it. The door, Wriothesley had left it open when he had come in. Either he was confident you wouldn’t try anything or he was testing you. It really didn’t matter. The proverbial door was open and you were prepared to take it.

You only gave the disgusting excuse for food one more glance before you threw it back in his face. Literally. Your hands came up in one swift motion, smacking the tray out from under him. You barely had time to register the way the light reflected off the porcelain bowl as it flew at Wriothesley before you made a break for it. Again with both hands, you gave him a hard shove, throwing him off just enough to squeak by and make a break for the open door. Around you, silverware clanged as it hit the floor. Glass and porcelain shattered leaving little cuts on your exposed skin, and a very distinctive grunt followed you as you desperately tried to get away. Wriothesley’s hand in your hair ended any hope of that coming true. You hadn’t even made it a handful of steps when the force of which he pulled you back ripped a scream out of you. One moment you were vertical. The next you were facing the ceiling, back pressed firmly into the lumpy mattress as Wriothesley snatched a hold of one of your wrists.  “Oh” He let out a dry laugh, that same dangerous glint returning to his eyes. “You want to fight do you? Well-” With his free hand he reached down, detaching the cuffs from his belt. “Let’s fight.” One look at them told you his intentions. With a garbled scream, you kicked at him again. This time though he was ready. Wriothesley maneuvered his hips between your flailing legs. The best you could do was smack him square in the ass with your calf. An action he seemed to enjoy, based on the smirk he gave you after you landed your first strike. “Give it to me.” Meaning your other hand. His tone was flat, expectant, and generally uninterested. To your horror, your escape attempt had done little to rile him up. Instead, he patiently held out one hand, while the other kept a grip on the wrist he had since locked in his handcuffs. “You’re already going to be punished for refusing your food. It’s only going to get worse for you if I have to reach under you and get that hand myself. Do yourself a favor and give it to me.” You still refused, vehemently shaking your head no. It was a foolish move on your part. You were all too aware of that. The smart decision would be to cooperate with him. To obey him this one time in the hope that he offered you some form of clemency. That wasn’t the decision you made though. Instead, you chose to refuse. You chose to fight. Two things you had been denied thanks to how he’d had you abducted. Two things you were all too prepared to give him in spades. All things considered, It was no less than he deserved. Wriothesley could only sigh at your refusal. He almost managed looking mournful for a moment, but it was short lived. The cocky smirk returned before he could finish his next statement. “You really want me to be the bad guy, don’t you?” Your response was to try to tuck your arm even further behind you, cementing your choice to disobey him rather than concede. “Foolish.” He clicked his tongue. “I suppose you’re really no different than the rest. Seems you’ll just have to learn this lesson the hard way.” There was only a brief shrug of his shoulders before Wriothesley finally followed through on one of his threats. All it took was one pull. 

You screamed again, the metal of the cuff around your one wrist digging into your flesh to an extreme degree as he drug your entire body off the bed. The pain that shot through your body was horrific. It felt like he was trying to rip your arm off from the force alone. Nevermind thin cuts and bruises left by the steel he had locked around your wrist. It was a foregone conclusion that he was going to get what he wanted. The force from the pull had wrenched what control you had away from you. Your body flailed in a tangle of limbs as you tried to catch yourself from falling face first onto the metal floor. He caught you, barely, but he made sure that you didn’t land into the pool of gray gunk that was congealing on the floor. Instead, you were wrenched up by your waist long enough for your other wrist to be captured in the steel of his cuffs. From there you were unceremoniously dumped onto a clean part of the floor and left to wait.

There was no quip that followed your escape attempt. No snide comment or even the faintest hint of judgment. Just a cold glare as he removed the longer chain from his outfit. The rattling bounced off the metal walls, causing you to flinch at the noise. While your headache had temporarily subsided, the piercing noise of metal echoing off of metal seemed to bring it roaring back. You whimpered, but only enough so he wouldn’t hear you over the jostling of his outfit. Thankfully he was kind enough to be quick about it, but only because removing the offending chain was easy work for him. The fact that he was punishing you to the point that you felt your ears would bleed was an inconsequential detail. You half expected him to say you deserved it. “I’ll only say this once.” He rotated the chain until he had an end in each hand. “Do as I ask. Don’t make me use force again.” Implying you wouldn’t like what would happen. Considering your present circumstances, you were fairly sure you wouldn’t. He’d already had you kidnapped and personally manhandled you without much provocation. To push him much further, at least at present, might result in a situation that was altogether unpleasant. “Hands” He gestured for you to lift your cuffed hands, which after a slight hesitation, you did. It wasn’t a leap to figure out his next move. One end of the chain found its way around the connecting link of the cuffs, while the other stayed firmly in his hand. “Up.” He moved his hand and you half expected another gesture, but instead he held it out to you, offering it as a means of assistance should you need it. An entirely gentlemanly gesture, from a brute of a man. You ignored it, awkwardly pushing yourself onto your wobbly legs. The effort to right yourself was a struggle. The failed escape attempt and subsequent fight after had drained what little energy you had woken up with away. Your legs felt no better than jelly. Standing on them or worse trying to walk on them would require a specific level of effort that you weren’t sure you possessed. The decision to not eat was a poor one. Even if the food was revolting, you probably should have seized the chance to get something in your aching stomach. At least then you could still the shaking that was quickly working its way across your entire body.

Wriothesley didn’t give you time to fret over it nor did he wait for you to fully steady yourself. The brief show of gentlemanly behavior was forgotten almost as quickly as it was offered. He yanked the chain hard, dragging you through the doorway and into the empty room beyond with little trouble or care. You stumbled, falling to your hands and knees against the rough metal floor, the sharp edges of the cold metal cutting into your exposed flesh even more. The sting from the metal biting your skin made you wince, not that Wriothesley noticed. He kept walking, pulling the chain tighter the further away he got. The silent demand from him was that you keep up; whether it was by walking or crawling. He didn’t seem to mind which. He only wanted you to follow until he ordered you to stop. Then he would move on to whatever humiliation he had planned next. Your cheeks burned at the very thought of it. How dare he. You had half a mind to repay his rough behavior with some of your own, but you weren’t nearly as strong as him. Given his size, you doubted you would be able to shift him. At most, you pulling on the chain or refusing to go any further would be a mild jerk against his hand. An inconvenience for him at worst. Hardly worth the energy or the struggle considering your current predicament. 

“Rule number one.” His voice drew you from your thoughts, pulling your attention back to him. He strode to the center of the room, bending down to loop the chain through a d-ring that was bolted to the floor. “You are the master of your own treatment here.” You stared up at him through the fringe of your lashes as he stood to his full height. “Call it irony” He shrugged. “But I don’t like the idea of punishing you. It took quite a bit of work on my part to bring you here. I even paid extra for the deluxe delivery.” Were you supposed to be impressed by that? It was laughable to consider that he expected you to fall all over yourself and thank him for taking such care with your abduction. Yet one look at him told you, that was exactly what he wanted, or rather he expected your compliance as a result of his supposed care of you. A trade. A bargain. An insult. In your mind, if he had the nerve to kidnap you, then the very least he could do was see to your safety during said act. Anything afterwards, like now, was a different transaction. Something you weren’t entirely interested in participating in unless it involved your unconditional release.  “So bearing that in mind, I suggest you consider your actions or rather your reactions in the future. I don’t want to get rough with you, but as you’ve seen, I’m not above doing it.”

“My actions?” He didn’t bother to hide his surprise when you finally broke your silence. “I’m sorry, I can’t recall ever having someone kidnapped for any reason, let alone to satisfy my own vanity.” He was quick. Despite his surprise, Wriothesley was able to volley a response back to you or rather he tried too. “That’s not-” You scoffed looking away for a moment. Any excuse or justification would go as far as his own lips. You didn’t want to hear them. You didn’t care about them. Clearly, based on your own feelings, they didn’t matter. Nothing could justify what he had done to you, nor would it justify anything that would happen in the future.  You could spend a thousand years with him and still call him a stranger. Above you, he let out a long breath. Your refusal to hear him had given him pause. You could tell those cold eyes were still firmly fixed on your face. He was intently watching every single thing you did. You knew he was.  When you finally decided to turn back, your eyes met his. They had never left you. He merely traded the view of your face for the back of your head and vice versa. Beneath the surface, you could see a myriad of emotions swirling within his eyes. He wasn’t as confident as he appeared. Wriothesley had worries, he had concerns. There was even what you felt was a twinge of doubt if you looked long enough. 

In turn, his eyes read and judged every emotion, every expression that you didn’t bother to hide. They saw your anger, your confusion, and even your own fear. You hadn’t fully acknowledged it yet, but you were every bit afraid as you were angry. In the span of a night, your life had become the property of someone else. He could do anything he wanted with it. You were powerless in stopping him from doing anything he wanted. Your current predicament was proof of that. “Look, I-” He let out another sigh. “I don’t want our first true interaction to happen this way. Please don’t be like this.” Please don’t fight. That’s what he meant. Just submit to his wishes and desires. Don’t make him beg, don’t make him force you. A not so impassioned plea from a man who was a stranger to you. He was trying his best to placate the fury that was radiating off your body, but the wound he had inflicted with his actions was far too fresh for it to work. “I’m happy to make nice with you. I’ll chalk the escape attempt up to the fact that you’re still adjusting. Perhaps I was being a tad unrealistic with how long it would take you to work through everything. Though-” There was a long pause after that. “in truth I would like an apology. You nearly burned half my face off with hot porridge.” He gestured to the side of his face as some sort of reference. You silently stared back, wishing you had. There was a chance you would have gotten away or at the very least put some much needed space between you and him. “Come on. I’m giving you an easy out here. Just apologize and we can move forward. It will make things easier for us both if you do. Believe me when I say that I would rather spend the limited time I do have with you doing anything else but fighting with or punishing you.” Swallowing, you silently noted that he was in for a rude awakening. “I would rather be at home, in my own bed. But we can’t always get what we want, can we?” A chill washed over the room. You weren’t sure if it was him or you, but you felt it all the same. “Instead I find myself at the mercy of a lunatic!” Your voice shook as the fear began to overtake your anger. The lack of food was fueling your desperation, which in turn was driving both your fear and your anger. You could feel yourself slowly losing control. It was a vicious cycle, which was reaching its conclusion at a rapid place. “I have no intention of playing this sick game of yours.” His entire body sagged in what you could only guess was disappointment.

“God-” He rubbed his scared eye with his free hand. “I truly didn’t think you would be this stubborn.” His hand fell back to his side as he stared at you with fondness. “It’s cute though. I like someone with a little bite to them. Makes things interesting. Still, I was hoping you would get the message right off the bat. But, if you insist we spend this time this way, then so be it. I will be all too happy to give you what you are so eager to earn.” He wrapped a length of chain around his hand, tightening what was left between you and him, pulling your arms towards the d-ring. You had to inch forward on your knees, just to ease some of the tension in your shoulders. “I will, out of the kindness of my heart, forgive earlier.  Before I left for my meeting I did tell you that you could be upset with me and in that spirit, I suppose you were only doing as you were told. I can’t fault you for it.” He wrapped another length around his hand, pulling the chain even tighter and you ever closer. “Just now though.” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he silently recalled what had just transpired. “I’m afraid I can’t forgive that. Refusals, altercations, and escape attempts are strictly forbidden from here on out. As I mentioned, you are the master of your own treatment. Behave and we can co-exist peacefully. I might even consider special privileges if I’m convinced you’re sincere in your behavior.” Refuse him or fight him or even try to escape him and you would end up where you were now or possibly somewhere far worse. 

In retrospect, you knew your current predicament was fairly mild compared to the ways he could make you suffer. Humiliation, starvation, degradation, and pain were only the first steps. There were bones that hadn’t been shattered, flesh that hadn't been marked, limbs that hadn’t been removed. You and he had a long way to go before you reached the point of no return, and that’s if you ever got there. In the back of your mind, you knew you wouldn’t last that long. He would break you long before you ever got to that point. “Am I being clear?” “What-” Tears stung at your eyes for the first time, closing your throat and forcing you to momentarily choke on your own words. You didn’t want to admit defeat so easily, but what other choice did you have? This was his world. Even if you managed to get free, no one within the fortress or outside of it would help you. He could easily send the guardes or even himself after you. The general population of Fontaine wouldn’t question why a fugitive from the fortress was being hunted. The assumption would be you were just another escaped convict. A threat that the Duke himself felt he needed to personally handle. 

It was only then that you realized your disappearance probably hadn’t even been noted. It had been the weekend when you had gone out. Work had been tiresome and the promise of a day off meant you had the chance to blow off some much needed steam. With that in mind, there would be no one to miss you if you didn’t show up the next day. Same for the day after. By the time you did have to return to work, Wriothesley would have had plenty of time to cover your tracks. He could make your disappearance seem quite ordinary. Maybe you had run away to Sumeru, you had been talking about it or perhaps that serial killer got you. Wouldn’t that give your co-workers something to talk about? Maybe no one would even notice. People came and went from your place of work everyday. It wasn’t that unusual for someone to be there one day and gone the next. The reality of that hit you harder than the sedative had. No one could help you. No one would save you. Not a single soul, outside of those involved, knew you were here. No one, outside of the man standing above you, cared.

You choked back a sob as that information sunk in. It was loud enough and perhaps distraught enough that Wriothesley drew his brows together in genuine concern. From your vantage point you could see he wanted to check on you, to ask if you were alright, but he held his tongue. He just stood there, staring at you as hot tears spilled freely down your cheeks. “What do you want?” A pregnant pause followed that. As if the answer was stupidly obvious to everyone, except you. 

“I would think that is rather plain.” You looked up at him again through tear stained lashes, sniffling as he moved closer. “I want you.” Your throat bobbed, thickly swallowing the rising panic that was filling your body. You racked your brain, trying to think of any reason as to how or why this happened. How had an excuse me, an introduction, and have a nice day translated into you being in chains at his feet? The encounter between you had only lasted seconds. In your own mind, there was no feasible way a chance meeting could have this result, unless the meeting itself wasn’t by chance. 

Your eyes flew back to his face as your mind began to put all the puzzle pieces together. Chocolates, flowers, perfumes, and even lingerie had been sent to you in droves over the course of the year. Your mind whirled, suddenly recalling all the other strange or odd occurrences that had happened, especially in the last few weeks or so. The feeling of eyes watching you everywhere you would go. Strangers scribbling notes when they thought you weren’t looking. Your clothes, namely your underwear turning up missing every time you took your things to the laundress. The door to your apartment being unlocked despite you remembering that you had locked it. God. Your eyes got wider as the full picture came together. A year. Oh god, he had been watching you for a year.  “Look who finally figured it out.” 

On instinct, you tried to pull away, but his foot slamming down on the chain brought that plan to a decided halt. Your body jerked with the chain, a frustrated whine escaping your throat as you continued to struggle against the cuffs. Escape in this case was utterly futile. You knew that. The chain that was connected to your wrists was firmly in his hand. Even if you managed to get away from him, the room you were in only had one visible door; the chamber from which you had just come. The exit you could not see, the one that would take you to the rest of the fortress was almost assuredly locked. Then there was the fortress itself. A maze of locked doors and heavy bars. If the building itself didn’t stop you, then the guardes most certainly would. All Wriothesley needed to do was raise the alarm and he could have your right back where you were now in a matter of minutes. “You know-” Your eyes met his again, noting the hints of malice that were beginning to swirl in the icy blue depths. “I never believed that you didn’t fully know.” He leaned down, resting an arm on his thigh as the slack portion of the chain rattled in the background. “I told myself that no one was that unobservant of their surroundings.” A soft chuckle slipped past his lips. “I’ll be damned if you didn’t prove me wrong. Seems like all those nights where my anxiety kept me awake were in vain. You had no clue, did you?” He furrowed his brow, gently chuckling again. “Did you ever think to ask? Did you just assume someone was sending you gifts and that would be that?” You wanted to slap the smirk off his face, maybe leave another scar while you were at it. “Of course I asked.” Since you couldn’t slap him, you tried to add some venom to your voice, hoping it would compensate for your lack of movement. “I spoke to the couriers and the stores. No one knew. They all said the same thing. All the orders had come with the necessary payment by mail via an unmarked envelope.” There had been no indication of where the letters had originated from. The only thing worth noting about them was the simple stationary on which they had come. The paper lacked the ornate embellishment that was associated with the upper class, yet the paper itself was of a high enough quality that you could discern the sender had money. That theory had been further proven based on the gifts he had sent. Everything you had received was from the finest shops in the Court and of the highest quality. They had all cost well above what the average admirer could spend. That had told you that your devotee was at least well to do. Wriothesley, as the Duke of Meropide, was certainly that. “I thought that when my admirer was ready, they might be normal and present themselves properly.” Not have you abducted and brought to the bottom of the sea. “Because that would have gone oh so well.” He tilted his head slightly. “I’m sure that I’m exactly what you were expecting, hm?” He wasn’t. 

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to ignore the obvious. Wriothesley had been the last person you had been expecting. Worse though, was the thought of the Administrator of the Fortress coming to your door for no explicable reason. Even with flowers in hand, the idea was a terrifying one. The Duke of Meropide wasn’t exactly a celebrated figure in the eyes of the citizens of Fontaine. While his rise to prominence certainly made him an enigma, the few that knew what he looked like, tended to avoid him at all costs. To see the Duke or any officers of the law on your street was often a sign that trouble was soon to follow. If you had known that Wriothesley was your admirer or if he had shown himself to be interested in you in a normal way, it was entirely likely that you would have run. Even knowing that you had committed no crimes in the eyes of the law, the risk of having him so close was one you didn’t want to take. The goal of every citizen was to avoid the fortress and all of those associated with it. You weren’t excluded from that. “See the dilemma?” Your first reaction was to fix your eyes to the floor, while you felt the first twinges of embarrassment creep their way up your neck. “Kid- kidnapping isn’t exactly a viable solution.” You raised your eyes to him again, trying to make that sound as harsh as possible. “Neither is this, for the record.” He just laughed. “If we’re adding things to the record, then throwing hot porridge in the administrator's face isn’t exactly the smartest of moves. Neither is disobeying my orders or trying to escape.” You squirmed, stupidly pulling on the chain as your own frustration spiked. “I’ve done nothing wrong!” He laughed again. This time, his laughter echoed off the walls, hurting your ears. 

“You hadn’t done anything wrong.” Until you threw the food in his face, and kicked him, and disobeyed him, and tried to escape. “I don’t think I need to list the crimes for you. I’m sure you’re aware.” Crimes? Your mind whirled at the very mention of the word. It was inconceivable to think that you had done anything wrong.

Fresh tears stung at your eyes as the frustration his words caused you, washed over you. No. It couldn’t be. You were innocent. He had abducted you. He had tricked you. You weren’t his prisoner. “But as the administrator of the fortress, it is at my discretion on how you are punished.” Wriothesley stood to his full height, reaching for something in his pocket. “Unfortunately for you, I don’t have time to deal with that.” He produced a medium sized lock, which was promptly attached to the chain and the d-ring, forcing you to hold your position at his feet. “I have more meetings. I suppose for now-” He mockingly thought about it for a moment. “Your punishment can be that you get to think about how you’re going to make it up to me or maybe, you reconsider your attitude. If not, then perhaps I’ll have to get slightly more strict with you.” From your vantage point, you watched his eyes drift away from you, focusing on something behind you. There was only one thing that could be; the room you’d woken up in, the bed. “Seems cruel to consider.” Your eyes went wide at the thoughts that were running through your head. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. “I’d hate to do it.” Wait. “But maybe I was too nice at the beginning.” No. “Maybe I’ll just leave that with you though.” His focus came back to you. “Based on your expression, you get my meaning. Persist on your current path though-” His tone developed a steely, authoritative hardness to it that you didn’t like. “And perhaps I’ll go against my better judgment and make you earn things like a bed and hot food, at least until I can be assured that you don’t need too. That’s if I can be assured at all.” You blindly shook your head as you realized this man intended to keep you indebted to him for the rest of your life. “No? Well-” There was an odd chuckle that followed that. “Tell you what.” A long pause stretched out between you. He waited, oh so patiently for you to finally look up at him before he opted to continue. “I might be inclined to go easy on you. If you decide you’re ready to behave.” If. It had the same inflection as before, though this one possessed more doubt than its predecessor had “Let’s test the waters. I’ll give you something easy, something simple. I bet you couldn’t take more than that, could you? By now, I’m sure you’re feeling a little drained.” There was a brief moment where you thought to challenge him on that. Drained wasn’t the right word for it. Exhausted maybe? Famished and dehydrated; absolutely. In your mind though, you believed you could take all he threw at you and more, but your cramping stomach and oncoming dizziness told you otherwise. Your body had been taken to its physical limit. It couldn’t handle anything more; not without getting food into you first. “Let’s try… you giving me a smile again. That seems like a simple thing. I’ll even sweeten the deal. Give me a smile and I’ll bring you a little something to eat. I bet you’re pretty starved by now. Some fresh bread or maybe even some fruit, surely that’s enough to get me a smile?” It shouldn’t have been. In any normal circumstance, it wouldn’t have been. Had you been back in the court, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day. But here, in his world, you didn’t have that luxury. Here he could determine every detail of your life, including when you ate next. Considering you had already gone a day, you briefly wondered how cruel he could be. Wriothesley ran both hot and cold. His reactions shifted between the two with frightening regularity. It made him difficult to read in a situation like this, which was why you had to consider your answer carefully. 

There was no winning here, you knew that. Wriothesley had stacked the deck against you long before your kidnapping and arrival. Now he’d dealt you the losing hand he’d prepared for you.  If you refused, would he cave due to his own feelings for you and bring you a meal anyway or would he demand an even higher toll for your next meal? Would he let you starve if you refused to pay that price? How many meals would he allow you to miss before the inevitable happened. How many could you stand to miss before you yourself gave in? Upon further review, a smile was easy. It was simple. It wouldn’t tax your fatigued state any further. You could just give it to him to make him go, but again that carried risk. Once meant always. Always meant forever. There would never be a time where you would be able to refuse him without running the risk of being punished. One frown could send you right back to where you were. “Well?” You didn’t want to. 

“I-“ You drew in a slow steadying breath, trying to calm the emotions that were running through you. At this stage, you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you wanted to lunge at him and you wanted to do it, all at once. You couldn’t though. Even if you felt like you were drowning, you couldn’t give in just yet. For now, you had to remain in control. “I hate you.”  Above you, he released an incredulous scoff.

“Believe me, I’m aware.” His nonchalance about this whole thing only served to irritate you further. He was acting as if everything that had happened between you was a normal thing. As if he kidnapped and manhandled and humiliated people everyday.

“So why should I smile at you if I hate you?” You swallowed as your eyes found his again. He towered over you, giving the answer very little thought.

“Because I asked you too.” You hated how his tone sounded almost thoughtful. “Let me be perfectly clear, unless the world is about to end or you are deathly ill, I will be your sole companion here. That means you will rely on me for everything.” And the fruits of that reliance were determined based on how well behaved you were. In his words, you were the master in your own treatment, which meant you decided your own fate. “We can keep on this path, if you like. I can play the mean warden just as easily as I can the affable fellow. It makes no difference to me how we get there, just so long as you understand we will get there in the end. One day those defenses of yours will crumble and that anger you currently feel will give way to something else.” Was he implying you would fall in love with him? “It happens to everyone down here. Some get angry, some are perfectly fine with it.” “I will never be fine with it or this.”  He smirked again, a gentle spark of mirth dancing in his eyes. “We’ll see. I tend to have a pretty good handle on people, especially when it comes to how they’re going to react to certain things. You’re no exception.” His head tilted slightly. “But keep telling yourself whatever you need to keep that fire in you burning.  I’m beginning to find your anger endearing. You’re cute with your face all scrunched up like that.” He chuckled, his smirk growing larger when the sound only served to make you angrier. “Maybe I’ll lock down the pankration ring one day, just so we can spar. It might be fun to turn you loose for a little while, if for no other reason other than to get my hands on you.  But I suppose that depends on one thing?” You let out a heavy breath, grinding your teeth in mild frustration. “What?” “Will you smile or not?”