#the whole mission i am just too busy staring at him

[delileaf]

ok but why did rockstar give charles the slayest outfit ever for the saint denis robbery like that little bow around his neck actually keeps me awake at night

[parkerslatte]

Uncertain Bonds

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: none

Summary: While posing as a couple at a high end event on a small kingdom the Night Court is supposed to make an alliance with, Y/N and Azriel uncover some shady business and need to act quickly to avoid getting caught.

Prompt(s): 4.Pretending to be in a relationship for a mission/ event. 31. "They're looking. Kiss me now." 16. Character A pushes B against a wall to kiss them. 29. “Do you think they bought the act?" "While I kissed you down your throat? They definitely did, honey."

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Azriel took a glass of wine from the serving table and brought it to his lips. He never took a sip as he surveyed the room. Everyone was dressed in extravagant gowns and danced around the room happily. So far, nothing seemed to be amiss. 

“You do realise that standing in a dark corner staring at people intensely may be a cause for concern, right?” Y/N said, sauntering up to Azriel. 

As he turned to look at her, Azriel felt himself become weak at the knees as he took her in. The dress she wore was one he has seen a couple of times before. She mainly wore it to Starfall or some other event. Though Azriel remembered her wearing it the day she bought it. That was the day the mating bond snapped for him. And it was the day he began to avoid Y/N. 

At first his avoidance wasn’t intentional. The first time he excused himself from her was just after the bond snapped and he was dealing with the shock of finding his mate. Someone he never thought he would find; he had never expected to find his mate within his best friend, the one he had loved for centuries. Everything overwhelmed him and the more he felt the bond, the more he unintentionally avoided Y/N. 

Up until he was asked to join her on her mission. 

“You know this isn’t the usual work I do,” Azriel said, taking a sip of his wine. Normally he would never drink while doing a job, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed it to help him relax in Y/N’s presence. 

“I know that, my love, but you need to relax tonight,” Y/N said, stepping closer to him, gently taking the glass of wine from his grasp. “Loosen up a little.”

Y/N took a sip before placing the glass down on the nearby table. She leaned up to whisper in Azriel’s ear. “If you don’t relax, people will begin to suspect.”

Y/N’s scent sent Azriel’s senses into overdrive as her perfume seemed to surround him. There was a small voice in the back of his mind telling him to wrap her up and take her right there in front of everyone, claim her as his own. Azriel knew that it was just the bond talking— the desire talking— but the image did cross his mind. 

Before Azriel even had the chance to say anything, Y/N pulled away and took Azriel’s hand in hers. “Now come and dance with your wife.” 

Oh, how Azriel wished that were true. 

Y/N led him onto the dance floor and positioned their arms herself. Azriel remained rigid as people surrounding them stared for a moment too long. Of course they did. After all, Azriel was the only one in the whole building who had a pair of wings sprouting from his back. 

Y/N giggled at Azriel’s rigid position. “You can relax a little more than that, Az.”

“I can’t,” Azriel replied. “We aren’t here to dance. We are here to do a job.”

A small frown appeared on Y/N’s face for a brief moment but it was gone and quickly replaced by an easy smile. “This is my job, Azriel.” Y/N began to slowly lead the dance. Azriel followed in step, though not as graceful as Y/N. “I don’t keep to the shadows and watch. I get involved and listen.”

“That is not how I do things,” Azriel replied

“No it’s not,” Y/N said. “But this is my mission, not yours. I am in charge.”

Azriel sighed. “I know. I don’t like feeling so exposed.”

Instead of the forced smile, Azriel saw that it was replaced by a small genuine smile. He felt his heart skip a beat. “I know,” she replied. “But you know that if anything were to go wrong, I will have your back and I know that you will have mine. That is the way it has always been.”

“And it always will be,” Azriel finished. 

Y/N’s eyes lit up and her grip tightened on him as they spun around the ballroom. “What happened to us, Az?”

Azriel frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean?”

For a split second, Y/N looked down at the floor between them and stumbled over her feet. Azriel quickly stopped and steadied her. 

“Perhaps your little girlfriend there should lay off of the wine,” a woman near the sneered as Y/N gently knocked into her. 

Azriel growled in her direction. The woman backed away quickly. 

“Az,” Y/N said, gaining his attention again. “Let us go to the side of the ballroom, perhaps it will be better for us.”

Azriel wrapped an arm around her waist and walked with her to the side of the ballroom, standing near another couple talking quietly to one another. As they neared them, the couple looked at the two as if studying both Y/N and Azriel. 

Azriel simply ignored them. 

“What I meant by my words, Az, was why haven’t we been as close over the past year? You have barely even looked in my direction and when we are alone you always find an excuse to cut out conversation short. You were meant to be my best friend, you seem to not want that anymore.”

No. Azriel didn’t want to be best friends anymore. He wanted so much more than that. He wanted to love Y/N freely. He wanted to kiss her. To hug her. To be with her every waking moment of the day. He was made to be with her. He wanted to be her mate. He wanted to be her husband. The ring on his finger used to keep up appearance felt so foreign but felt so right. The pair to it on Y/N’s finger. Azriel only wished it was real. 

All he wanted was her, but he couldn’t express that to her. 

“I do want that,” Azriel said. “I will always want that.”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?” Y/N questioned. “You even asked if Cassian could come on this mission instead.”

Azriel sighed and looked around the room. “Look, Y/N I will tell you—“

Azriel cut himself off as he noticed the couple they had stood next to secretly slip out of the room and through the servants passage. “That couple is gone.”

“You think there’s a possibility that they are who we’re after?” Y/N asked, suddenly switching to her professional mindset. 

“We were told that they were young,” Azriel said. “So far they seem like the ones who fit the description the most.” 

“Let me slip out first,” Y/N said. “Follow me after.”

As Y/N went to walk away, Azriel gently took her hand in his. “Be careful,” he said. 

Y/N offered him a small smile. “I always am.”

Y/N slipped away and Azriel watched her, sending a shadow to wrap around her arm to keep an eye on her. Even though he was going to catch up to her quite soon, he wanted a piece of him with her to make sure she would be okay. 

Y/N slipped out and Azrie remained by the wall for a few moments longer. No one else in the entire room seemed to pay any attention. Azriel slowly made his way out into the servants passage. Still there was no one looking his way. Azriel slipped into the passage. 

It was dimmer in the passage but the moment Azriel’s eyes found Y/N, his heart yearned for her. In the dim lighting, she seemed to shine as the light hit her jewellery and dress. She was the most beautiful being he had ever seen. She looked ethereal. 

“Az,” Y/N whispered. “They didn’t go too far. Come on.”

Azriel and Y/N walk a little further down the passage until they turn a corner. The passage opened up to the main hall just off from the ballroom. 

“They went through the door there,” Y/N whispered. 

The two stood just outside of the door, just about hearing what the two were discussing inside. 

“The funds are paid in full,” the female said. “There shouldn’t be a problem sending them though now.”

The male seemed to sigh. “Do you know how long I have waited for those funds? Do you know how long I have been lying to my father because you didn’t do your job properly and allowed someone to get away with the entire kingdom’s fortune.”

“These things take time!” The female exclaimed. “I had a hard time trying to track down the one who stole from you father.”

“Eight months,” the male replied. “It took you eight months. My father needed those funds. That court in Prythian has been questioning where all of their trade deals are. Do you know how much my father had lied because of what you did? He’s afraid it will cause a war and you know that we do not have the army to back us up. We barely have the funds because of you.”

“I’m sorry!” The female cried. 

“I take it we found the reason why all of the trade has stopped suddenly,” Y/N whispered. 

“But can we get back to where we were before all of this happened?” The female begged. “I love you!”

The male didn’t reply. “I don’t think that is a possibility. You have betrayed my father therefore you have betrayed me. You are lucky I am not banishing you for what you did.”

“Please!” The female cried. 

“No,” the male replied. “Anything that was between us is over. I will tell my father the truth of what happened and that he can now send his trade deals again. Be lucky that the court in Prythian decided not to send anyone here. You know their reputation.”

Footsteps approached the door and Azriel and Y/N began to panic. There was nowhere to hide. Azriel frantically looked around the hall and there was a small alcove. He wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled her into it. Her back pressed tightly against his front. 

Azriel could feel all of her pressing against him. Her soft skin against his. The scent of her shampoo wafting up to his nose. The slope of her neck enticing Azriel to press his lips against it. 

The door opened and two footsteps came out onto the stone floor. Y/N held her breath and pressed her body further into Azriel’s. As she did so, her hand accidentally brushed the sensitive skin of his wing. Azriel jerked. 

A small vase to the side of Azriel fell from the ornate stone podium it sat on, cracking on the floor.

Everything stilled. 

“Who's there?” The male asked. 

Y/N turned around to look at Azriel, her eyes wide in panic. 

“I know your there,” the male said and Azriel realised that he had caught sight of the edge of his wings. 

Y/N, seemingly realising the same thing as Azriel whispered; “They’re looking. Kiss me now.”

“What?” Azriel whispered. He knew exactly what Y/N and said but he needed that second confirmation. 

“Kiss me,” Y/N said. 

Not wasting a moment longer, Azriel surged forward and pressed his lips against Y/N’s. They were just as he imagined. Soft, slightly sticky from her lip gloss, but Azriel didn’t care. He needed more. 

He spun the two around and pressed her against the wall kissing her even harder. Pressing his body against hers. His hand pressed between the wall and her head to not harm her. 

Y/N’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands. Azriel couldn’t help but moan deeply. Y/N only smiled against his lips. 

Azriel couldn’t get enough of her feel. He wished he could stay like this for eternity. He pulled away slightly. “Jump.”

Y/N did as he commanded and jumped up to wrap her legs around his hips. The slit in her dress made it easy. His hand found her thigh and squeezed it tightly before moving to her ass and it remained there. 

Azriel pressed his lips against hers, feeling himself harden in his trousers. The need to have her had taken over. 

His lips left Y/N’s lips and trailed down her neck, slightly nibbling the sensitive skin. 

“Az…” Y/N whined. 

Her hips seemed to move as she gained more friction. 

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Azriel panted against her skin, placing open mouthed kisses against the base of her throat. 

Azriel gripped her hair and pulled her head back, allowing him more access. Y/N only pulled on him in return. Azriel smirked against her neck. 

In their lust filled haze, Azriel and Y/N forgot about the two figures standing just behind them. The male cleared his throat. 

“Excuse me?” The male spoke up. 

Azriel felt as if he were doused in cold water as he pulled away from Y/N’s neck to look over his shoulder. 

“What?” Azrie growled, annoyed that he was interrupted. 

The female’s face was bright red as she looked between Y/N and Azriel. 

“I will return to the ballroom,” the female said, clearly flustered. She left rather quickly. 

The male remained, his eyes narrowed. 

Y/N smirked. “You can join us if you want? Sometimes it takes more than one male to satisfy me.”

Azriel’s hand squeezed Y/N’s ass possessively as the male simply scoffs and walks away. Neither Azriel nor Y/N moved until they were sure they were alone. 

“Do you think they bought the act?” Y/N asked. 

“When I kissed you down your throat? They definitely did, honey,” Azriel replied. 

Y/N laughed. “Back with the pet names? Perhaps I have my best friend back after all.”

Azriel smiled before it fell away. Best friend. What they just did was not what best friends do. But like Y/N said— it was just an act. 

 “Would you mind letting me down?” Y/N asked. 

“Oh,” Azriel said. “Of course.”

Y/N’s legs unwrapped from Azriel’s hips and he helped her to the floor. Her hands lingered for a brief moment but Azriel thought they imagined it. 

“Well we have our information now,” Y/N said. “Looks like there was nothing nefarious going on. Just someone not doing their job properly.”

“I don’t understand why the king didn’t write to Rhys,” Azriel said. “He would and helped.”

“Yes but a king admitting his fortune was stolen can cause a dent in his ego,” Y/N replied. “Looks like we are not needed here anymore.”

“Seems like it,” Azriel replied, a sense of disappointment washing over him at the fact that the fake rings on their fingers would be taken off the moment they returned home. 

“We paid for the room in the city for another two nights,” Y/N said. “It would be a shame if the money would go to waste. We could perhaps stay a little longer. Make a small holiday out of it.”

“But we need to report this to Rhys,” Azriel said. 

The disappointment was apparent on Y/N’s face. “You’re right. We should just pack and get back home.”

As she turned to walk down the hall, Azriel took her arm. “Or maybe we can stay for the extra two nights. We haven’t had a chance to look around yet.”

Y/N’s face lit up. “Are you being serious?”

Azriel smiled. He couldn’t help it, her joy was infectious. “Deadly.”

***

It was late at night and Azriel laid in his bed looking at the ceiling. Y/N was sitting by the fireplace reading a book. The room they had book was the last one available at the inn. And with only one bed it was even more of a predicament. 

For the two nights they had been here already, Y/N had slept in the armchair by the fire. Azriel had offered but he simply couldn’t get comfortable with his wings. Guiltily, he had taken the bed. And even then, the bed was simply too small. 

Azriel sat up and looked at Y/N. Her hair was simply tied back and hung down her back and her face was devoid of the gold makeup she had worn earlier in the day. She was wearing simple sleepwear and slippers on her feet. Even if she was beautiful back at the ballroom, she was even more beautiful now. 

Since they had returned to the inn, Azriel couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss in the hall. If they hadn’t been interrupted, what would have happened? Would he have told Y/N that he was her mate? Would he have confessed his love for her? Azriel wasn’t sure but he was sure that Y/N had enjoyed what had happened. 

He didn’t mention it to her but he could smell her arousal the whole time when they retired to the inn. The scent had gotten fainter as the night progressed but it still lingered in the air. 

Y/N turned the page as Azriel stood up from the bed. “I’m taking a walk.”

“Avoiding me again,” Y/N said. 

“What?” Azriel asked. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N said. “I was only joking.”

The comment might have been a joke to Y/N but to Azriel it wasn’t. He was avoiding her. And he was avoiding his own feelings. Perhaps he should come clean. But there was that possibility that she would reject him. Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to survive that. 

“Az, you were going for a—“

“I love you,” Azriel confessed and felt a large weight lift from his shoulders. 

Y/N laughed a little. “You don’t need to pretend right now. No one is here to see.”

“I’m not pretending, Y/N,” Azriel said. “I love you. I am in love with you.”

Y/N frowned and Azriel dreaded her response. This was the moment she rejected him. 

“Are you being serious, Az?” Y/N asked

“I am,” Azriel said. “I have been in love with you since the moment I met you, Y/N. That kiss earlier. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Feeling you pressed so close to me. Feeling your lips against mine. Hearing you moan my name. It is the only thing that has been on my mind since we left the palace. I don’t think I can keep my feelings a secret anymore.”

“Az,” Y/N began and Azrie prepared himself for the worst. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it either,” Y/N admitted. “I’ve been sitting here reading for over an hour and I have managed about three pages. I cannot concentrate on anything that isn’t you.”

Azriel held onto that small bit of hope within him. “Why do you keep thinking about it?”

Y/N sighed, though it sounded happy. “I can’t stop thinking about it because I have been hoping to kiss you for many years now.”

“What?”

Y/N giggled and it was music to Azriel’s ears. “Your feelings are not one sided, Azriel.”

“Please say what you mean, Y/N. I need to hear it,” Azriel said, his voice breathless. 

“I love you, Az,” Y/N admitted. “I just never thought you returned those feelings because I believed you to be in love with Mor.”

Azriel let out a sigh of relief. “I stopped loving Mor centuries ago. In fact ever since you walked into my life I haven’t even thought about Mor at all. You are constantly on my mind, Y/N. You have a home in my mind and I can never rid myself of you even if I wanted to.”

“Why did you never tell me?” Y/N asked, standing from the settee and walking over to Azriel. “Why have you been avoiding me this past year?” Y/N gently caressed his cheek. 

“I never thought you were in love with me, I didn’t want to force my feelings upon you if you didn’t feel the same. I would rather be friends than lose you completely,” Azriel said. 

“But that doesn’t explain why you avoided me.” 

Azriel leaned into Y/N’s touch. Placing his hand over the one that resided on his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. “Feel it, Y/N. Allow yourself to feel it. Open yourself up to it.”

Y/N closed her eyes and it wasn’t long before Azriel felt a warmth flood his body. Y/N’s eyes snapped open, shock resided within them. 

“You’re my mate?” Y/N said. 

“Yes I am,” Azriel said. “The reason why I avoided you was because the bond snapped for me a year ago. I never thought I had a mate. I’ve been alive for centuries and I’d given up hope. But when it snapped for you, I was overwhelmed by it. At first I was happy but I didn’t think you returned my feelings so that is why I began to avoid you. I was always overwhelmed by you. Your scent. Your laugh. Your touch. I would have never been able to control myself. I never wanted to force my feelings upon you if you didn’t return them and I didn’t want you to only develop them because of the bond. If your ever loved me, I only wanted you to fall for me naturally.”

Y/N’s eyes softened. “And I did.” 

Azriel smiled. “And I am glad you did.”

“Az,” Y/N said. “Please just kiss me. I need to feel you again.”

Azriel took no time and pressed his lips against hers. It started out gentle but soon the hunger and the pull of the bond changed it into something different. Something feral. 

Y/N backed Azriel up to the bed and as he sat, she straddled his hips, pressing her core against him. Azriel groaned into her mouth. 

“Perhaps,” Y/N said, panting, “we should invite that male to join us.”

Azriel growled and flipped their positions. Y/N now spread out on the bed below him, her hair fanned out on the pillow. 

“You’re mine,” Azriel said, kissing across her jaw. 

“Good, I don’t want to be anyone else’s.”

[pileofmush]

In the dead of night, he crawls into your bed. 

Your eyes flutter open, but you already know who it is, for you are intimately familiar with the pad of his feet against the carpet. With the dip of your mattress underneath his weight. With the sense of calm that washes over you whenever he graces you with his presence. And that’s the best way to describe whatever you and the sorcerer have going on. Intimate—and familiar. 

You never know how to categorize it when your friends ask. 

Not friend, nor foe. Maybe both. Or maybe something in between?

There’s a tug of war inside your brain that struggles between wanting to tangle your legs with his under the soft press of your duvet, and wanting to climb atop him, wrap your hands delicately around his neck, and squeeze.

Most nights with him, you do neither. Just lie flat and stare up at the peeling ceiling tile, just barely illuminated by the midnight glow of the moon streaming through your blinds.

Some nights, you do both. Yuuta never seems to mind, either way. Says he just wants to be near you, as he wraps his limbs around you and pulls you to him, snugly. You play dead; go limp in his arms and count the warm puffs of air against the back of your neck like sheep.

It’s not normal, you know.

But it works for the two of you.

It goes like this: Okkotsu Yuuta is a lonely, lonely man, with too much heart and not nearly enough sense. 

It goes like this: You want to crawl into his skin, make home inside his chest.

And that’s really all there is to it. 

Tonight, you sit up and turn on the lamp that sits on your nightstand, casting a muted yellow glow over your surroundings. You blink, rub your eyes, and lift your head in greeting. 

“Hey,” he whispers, black eyes roving over you curiously. He seems alright—whole—though his shoulders sag with an inconceivable weight, and his eyebags speak of many sleepless nights. “What are you still doing up?” Gesturing to the clock on your nightstand that reads 3 am.

You hum. Press your tongue against your teeth. “Waiting for you,” you say, candidly. You understand he's a busy man. That he has responsibilities—'missions', he calls them. But it’s been two weeks since he last visited you. Far too long since the last time. Not long enough. 

At your admission, Yuuta’s mouth melts into a cotton-candy smile. “I missed you, too.”

…

You hadn’t said all that, but you’ll allow it.

Yuuta’s hand slips under the covers, searching for yours, and gives a firm, quick squeeze. He pulls away, reaches behind him and pulls off his navy blue sweater—the soft, cashmere one that you said would look good on him one relaxed day at the mall. The ministrations expose the taut, pale sheen of his skin as the hem of his tee slides up, and you have to breathe deeply to ground yourself.

He folds the sweater in his lap while you push the covers back, then leans over you to set it on your nightstand. Something about him hovering over you flips a primal switch within you, and without thinking you flip it so that it’s him on his back and you leaning above him. Yuuta, to his credit, doesn’t bat an eye. Gets settled between your thighs and waits calmly for…

For you to inhale deeply; to breathe him in and try not to choke. His scent is a cloying, sickly sweetness. A poisonous flower, luring you to something sinister. Begging you to taste him and face the consequences.

It’s a sight to behold, his dark hair fanned out against your pillow, his darkening cheeks, and his dark, dark gaze that pins you in place. 

His hands rest on the back of your thighs, flexing assuredly, and your hands rest on his rising and falling chest, then slowly trail up, up, up, to his cheek, his jaw, his neck. You pinch his skin gently between your thumb and forefinger. Feel his pulse jump in his throat. 

He swallows, and you feel the lump of spit travel down his esophagus.

Intimate—and familiar. That’s what you are to Yuuta. Who else can say the same?

Not one. 

Your hands smooth down to his shoulders as you slowly bend to his ear. Goosebumps prickle across his flesh as you whisper, softly, “Text me the next time you’re going to be away this long.”

Yuuta’s shudder is sinful. 

“I won’t,” he croaks, then backtracks. “Take this long again. I promise.”

Your lips twist into a wry grin. “Good.”

ty for reading (๑´`๑)♡ for my lovely anon, rosie <3

[strawberryspence]

It's weird, Eddie thinks. When Eddie and Steve holds hands, they intertwine it together. However, almost always, Steve ends up untangling it, his hand creeping up and holding him on his wrist instead. It makes Eddie feel like a child, with a mother holding on to him.

He thinks it might be his rings, thinks it might be annoying Steve. But then, he remembers Steve telling him how much he loves them.

He thinks it might be because he sweats when they hold hands for too long. But then, he remembers Steve trying to hug him after work and telling him he couldn't care less if Eddie's sweating or smells like oil.

He thinks it might be— no. He doesn't— Steve might be ashamed of him? And doesn't want to be seen with him, their hands slot together so perfectly the whole world may crumble? No. That's definitely not right. Steve is open to the people who matter, tells Dustin of their last endeavor, tells Robin about how good Eddie is to him, tells Hop that Eddie is good and kind and everything to him. He kisses him in the Wheeler basement, slots his head on his shoulders in between the empty aisles of Family Video, takes Eddie in his arms in the trailer in front of Wayne. That can't be it.

Eddie finds out in the middle of a campaign. Steve, Robin, Max and El hanging out on the sides while the boys busy themselves with defense and strategy. He didn't mean to look Steve’s way, but like a boat, his eyes will always find his lighthouse, bright and guiding in the dark.

Steve is holding Max's wrist, just like he always does with him. At first, it's weird because Max doesn't really like prolonged physical touch. They stay like that for half of the game, whenever Eddie looks back, Steve's hand is still wrapped around Max's wrist.

When Eddie calls for a break, and Steve rushes upstairs to help the boys get a snack, Eddie sits beside Max.

"Hey, Red." Max gives him a nod of acknowledgment as she reads the latest comics.

"Can I ask you a question?" Max hums in agreement, eyes still glued on the page.

"Why was Steve holding your wrist like that?" Max freezes, eyes looking up to meet Eddie's. Eddie is aware of how it sounds like, so he word vomits, "I— I am just curious. He does the same for me and I've never understood why."

Max squints at him behind her thick glasses, "It helps him calm."

Eddie tilts his head in confusion, "Calm?"

Max takes his hands, wrapping a hand around his wrist, just directly above where his pulse is, "When he found us after the Upside Down, we were barely alive. Now, he feels our pulse and it's a reminder that we're alive, we're okay. It calms him down, helps him stay in the moment."

It hits him like a bucket of cold water. How Steve makes it his mission to burrow his head on Eddie's chest, directly above his beating heart, his hand always wrapped just above his pulse, Steve staring at his eyes first thing in the morning like he's looking for something in it.

It's a reminder that Eddie's alive, that Max's alive, that they're all alive and that they get to live and breathe in peace without the impending doom looming over the edge.

Eddie never brings it up. He lets Steve hold his pulse, splay a hand on his chest to feel his heart, lets Steve fall asleep to the sound of Eddie breathing.

Eddie's never gonna bring it up. Steve can do it for the rest of their life for all he cares.

It's the least he can do.

[enris]

CAN I HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE?

synopsis after a year, jake finally earns your father’s blessing. (even if that meant breaking his bank account)

pairing sim jaeyun x f! reader

warnings this is not proofread! i apologize for any mistakes

word count 1.5k+

note first ever official post on tumblr 🥹 and i’m starting it with a slightly long one…bare with me 😔 i hope you enjoy reading, feedback is highly appreciated as i am still kind of new to writing! and of course, if it wasn’t obvious from the title, this is inspired by the song Rude by Magic!

“CAN I HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE?” you watched as jake asked your father the same question, once again. you’ve already told him countless times to not worry about whether your father accepts him or not, but he just can’t seem to live without getting your father’s blessing. so now he made it his whole life mission to get his blessing.

you were watering your precious plants as you heard your dad rejecting him, again.

“my answer is still no.”

the expression left on your boyfriend’s face was just unbearable to see. it almost looked like he was about to cry any second now.

“dad, what’s so hard about accepting him? can’t you tell he’s a nice guy…” you say, trying to convince him yourself, but nothing was working.

“yn, you are way too young to be getting married right now, you hear me? this is unacceptable behavior. and you, young mister,” your father turned to jake who was already staring at him with puppy eyes, “you are not marrying my daughter, you get it? you have been asking me this same question for the past YEAR and it’s been bothering me ever since then. please, leave immediately.”

“what do you mean i’m too young? dad, i graduate from college in 2 months!” you say, but all you got in return was a head shake. you looked over to jake who shrugged back at you.

“yeah, and who’s the one who refused to dorm in? let alone going overseas, you threw a tantrum because you wanted to stay here for college!” your father argued back after a few moments.

you gasped as jake couldn’t hide his smile, “dad!”

“yn, come on, i wanna take you to this new restaurant that opened up.” jake smiled at you as he held his hand out, signaling for you to hold it.

“eh—? young boy, you better not do anything to my daughter, you hear me!? i’m not giving you my blessing for a reason! and you, young girl, you better be home before dark! i can’t stand it when you try to sneak back into the house at 1am…”

“what? you could hear me?” you ask, suddenly remembering all the times you’ve came back home late at night. i guess all the struggles for staying quiet doesn’t matter anymore.

before you could say anything else, your dad went back inside of the house, leaving you dumbfounded.

“i mean—how could he just say that and leave..?! this whole time i’ve been extra careful to not wake him…but he heard me this whole time?!” you couldn’t believe this whole situation, and turned back to your boyfriend.

“well, at least you don’t need to worry about being loud…?” he nervously smiled at you as you stared at him.

you took a deep breath in, “let’s just go to this restaurant. i’m starving.”

you and jake arrived at the recently opened restaurant and were shocked on how busy it was, despite being new. luckily, you guys got a table pretty fast.

“wow, even their menus are pretty.” you say as you scanned through all the foods that were available.

“yeah, they are.” jake responds, but he wasn’t looking at the menu. his eyes were on you as you were looking at what to order.

“hello! may i start off with your drinks for you today?” a waiter soon came over to your table and pulled out her pen and notepad.

“ah yeah, we’ll just take a water.” you say and watched as she wrote it down.

“awesome! are you guys ready to order?” she continues to ask, and you looked over at jake who nodded with a smile.

“uh, i’ll have this pasta please. what are you gonna order?” you turn to your boyfriend who was still scanning over the menu.

“i’ll take the same as her.” he says and the waiter writes down both of your guys’ orders before collecting the menus.

“alright, i’ll be back with your waters and your food will be our shortly after!”

as the waiter left your guys’ table, jake turned to you, his face more serious than before. but of course, what he said was not serious, at all.

“so, how should i suck up to your father?” he leaned in closer to you as he asked.

“what?” you were taken aback from the sudden question he had asked you, “what do you mean?”

jake’s eyes wandered off a bit as he leaned back into his seat again, “well it’s obvious he doesn’t want me to marry you…so i need to suck up to him, don’t i? what does he like? i need to buy him something don’t i? or do i need to show him im a good person…what do i do?”

“woah woah, calm down…what’s all this rush for? you’re acting like your gonna propose to me as soon as we graduate or something.” you say, and you can see the expression of jake’s face change immediately.

“ahaha, i just wanna make sure your father accepts me!” he chuckled nervously, though you can see the sweat dripping down forehead.

“calm down babe. if you are that desperate to get my father’s blessing then you do have to throw a little money around for him..”

“how much money are we talking? if it’s something expensive like gucci or…” jake paused as he noticed the expression on your face. even though you didn’t say anything, it was almost obvious you were telling him he needed to buy something expensive.

jake cleared his throat as he looked at the specific item, “wow…your father is an expensive guy isn’t he?” he scoffed, his hand covering his mouth out of pure shock.

“his birthday is coming up soon…if you buy this for him im almost completely sure his whole perspective on you would change.” you say, and he almost couldn’t even believe you.

“shit, i really gotta buy this specific rolex for him?”

“yeah, he’s been dying to have this specific one.”

all your boyfriend could do was nod continuously as he stared at the price of the watch.

he clapped his hands together, “all right, i’ll get this for him then!” he says with a forced smile. “my bank account will be crying tonight…” he mumbled before walking away to get a person for help.

you rushed over to him, “hey, you don’t have to do this you know? my fathers blessing surely doesn’t mean that much to you, does it? you can just get his favorite food instead.”

jake turned over to you, “baby. if i get him something expensive, especially if it’s something he’s always wanted, he would definitely give me his blessing. if i don’t have his blessing that means i can’t marry you, and i want you to be by my side forever.”

before you could even say anything else jake planed a soft kiss on your lips before calling over a worker.

“do you think he’ll say yes now?” jake asked you before he head inside of the house.

“i mean i sure hope he would…” you responded.

“how about this; if he doesn’t give me his blessing then i’ll kidnap you and after we graduate college we travel overseas and we can get married there!”

you scoffed, “you’re serious about this aren’t you?”

“of course, my girlfriend WILL become my wife and i’ll make sure of it!”

as soon as you guys were about to head inside of the house, your dad opened the door for you. you were shocked, but definitely not as much as your boyfriend who was beside you.

“everybody is getting ready to eat dinner now, what’s taking you so long?”

“uh—hello! yn’s father..” jake waved nervously at your dad who just stared at him. “happy birthday! i got you a gift.”

“oh? what is this?” your father dug his hand inside of the bag and was met with a rolex box. he gasped as he realized what it was.

“it may not be the right time to ask this question considering the special occasion so i apologize in advance. but, CAN I HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, please?”

you were scared looking at your father’s expression and noticed his grip on the rolex tightening. out of impulse you spatted out a few sentences.

“please dad, he’s really a nice guy. he treats me so well and i love him so much, you don’t understand how much i want him to stay in my life. if you don’t give him your blessing then i wi—”

“silly boy, is this your way of sucking up to me? huh? just because you bought me a rolex i’ve been wanting for ages you expect me to give my blessing to you just like that?” you and jake were both shocked at how your father responded.

“dad—”

“it definitely worked.”

jake’s eyes immediately widened, “wait, really?! i have your blessing?”

“i’ve been testing you all along to see how good of a guy you are and you definitely exceeded my expectations. treat my daughter well, sim jaeyun. im lending you my trust and hope you protect yn.”

you couldn’t hide your smile and so couldn’t jake. you guys both hugged each other before he thanked your father.

“thank you! i promise i will keep your daughter safe. as long as she’s with me only good things shall happen to her!”

© enris 2024. please do not copy, translate, or repost

xtra omg i’m sorry if this seemed messy 😭 again i’m new to doing things like these so feedback is appreciated!

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Glutton for Punishment | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hello, hello! I am back back back again. My life has been busy, y'all. School is kicking my ass. But this fic has been like 94% complete for like a month, and I finally got to finish it! yay!

wordcount: 8939

Warnings: angst, self harm, Bucky's trauma

Bucky collapsed onto the bed with a defeated huff. The mattress rippled under his weight and jostled the computer resting on your thighs. His chest rose and fell with another dejected sigh. His meetings with Fury never went well- but they weren’t always bad. Sometimes, things between them were cordial. Neutral. This was not one of those times. Bucky wanted to sink into the bed and never come out. He wanted to dissolve into the earth and disappear. The only thing anchoring him to reality was, as always, you. 

“Hey, how’d it go, babe?” The comforting lilt of your voice floated through the air. Maybe drenching your words in overt positivity was too much, but it seemed necessary. Maybe if you could coat your voice in optimism, it would fix whatever plagued Bucky. But you knew it was useless to hope. 

He didn’t answer. He just stared up at the ceiling, a blank expression on his face. Coming home to you after a bad day or a shitty meeting was always his saving grace; being near you brought him peace. But he hated bringing the shame home with him. 

“That bad, huh?” you ditched your laptop and laid next to him, propped up on one elbow. “What happened?”

Silence. He didn’t tear his eyes from the ceiling. Didn’t even blink. He just gazed upward- hopeless. 

In the quiet, your fingers traced up and down his arm. You pressed kisses to his shoulder. He always had a way of shutting you out before allowing you in. It wasn’t personal; it was just his process. He opted to suffer without your help until the pain ate away at him. And when there was almost nothing left, he tore down the walls and welcomed the onslaught of comfort. 

“He said it was my fault.” Bucky tried not to sound too pathetic. He knew you worried about him- a lot. Knew that his misery always hurt you. Seeing him in pain brought you nothing but heartache. But his efforts did nothing to hide the anguish in his voice. 

You didn’t want to make him repeat the whole ordeal, to relive whatever messed up shit Fury said to him- but you needed context. Your words were soft, your voice gentle. “He said what was your fault, baby?” Bucky didn’t deserve more blame, more guilt. Though none of what he did was his fault, a lifetime of remorse rested heavy on his shoulders after his Winter Soldier days. You wondered how much unjust blame he could carry before it crushed him. 

Bucky sighed, “All of it. Everything that went wrong on that last mission- the explosion, all those agents getting hurt-”

“What? You weren’t even the lead on that job- how is any of it your fault?” Heat rose in your chest. Your heart pounded against your ribs. Defending Bucky was your first instinct, your first priority. And while he accepted the shame with which Fury saddled him, you immediately turned to protection. To rage. 

Bucky shrugged, “he said I’m the most experienced, so I should’ve known better than to let the lead take our team into the lab.”

 “Wait- he said you should’ve argued with the mission lead?”

Bucky nodded. 

“But didn’t he reprimand you last month for that exact reason?”

Again, he nodded. 

“What the fuck?” Wrath sizzled beneath your skin. No one was allowed to treat Bucky this way- not even Fury. He contradicted himself and put his hypocrisy on full display, knowing Bucky hated himself too much to argue. 

“I can-” Bucky’s voice came out hollow. Empty. Guilt had him in a chokehold. “I can see where he’s coming from…”

“No, don’t do that.” It wasn’t a reprimand- but a reminder. You laced your fingers with his, “You know it wasn’t your fault.”

He refused to make eye contact. “I mean, I could’ve spoken up-”

“You weren’t even with them, were you? Didn’t Fury tell you to hit the warehouse on your own?”

He nodded.

“So how is any of it your fault, Buck?” Fury sent Bucky into a tailspin with almost no effort. He knew exactly which buttons to push, which wires to pull. Fury made him his puppet, his scapegoat. He made Bucky work harder than anyone else and never delivered the praise he deserved. Instead, he met Bucky’s efforts with tongue-lashings and bitter insults. With blame. 

“I don’t…” he shrugged. “I don’t know- but it feels like it’s on me. A lot of people got hurt and I am the most experienced. I should’ve said something-”

“But if you did, Fury would’ve called you into his office to tell you that you’re arrogant- like he did last time.” A deep breath filled your lungs and calmed your system; anger wouldn’t help Bucky. You needed to channel that energy into comforting him, easing his mind. 

You softened your tone, “You know you can’t win with him, Buck.”

“Maybe because I tried to kill him… twice.” Finally, he looked at you, “And I can handle being called arrogant- those agents got hurt, doll. That’s different.”

“I know it’s different. I’m just saying… you weren’t involved. You did what you were told- what Fury told you to do.” Your hand cupped his cheek, he leaned into your touch. “And if he wants to get mad at you for that, he’s a piece of shit. He knows he fucked up, and he’s pinning it on you.”

Bucky pulled you close. He curled in on himself with you at his center, his head resting against your chest. The logical part of his brain believed everything you said. It disregarded Fury’s false accusations and willed the blame to dissipate. But the rest of him took Fury’s every word as gospel. It rejected your assurances, categorizing them as obligatory kindness from a significant other. Shame feasted on his soul. He didn’t want to feel this way, but it came easily. By now, it was second nature. 

“Thanks, doll…” He lifted his head and brought his face to yours, “I appreciate you.” He meant it; no one ever supported him like this. But you always listened. You were always there for him, even when he was too ashamed to look you in the eye. You showed him patience and kindness and led him out of the dark more times than he could count. 

He dotted a few soft kisses to your lips, “I’m gonna take a shower.” 

“Wait-” Your hand caught his as he tried to get up, “I love you.”

A shy smile pulled at Bucky’s lips. He once again met your lips with his, needier this time. “And I love you.”

He stripped off his shirt and, immediately, your eyes landed on it. By now, you knew better than to stare. But sometimes, you couldn’t stop yourself.  

The first time it caught your eye, you couldn’t avert your gaze. You noticed it right away- how could you not? It drew your focus the first moment Bucky removed his shirt in front of you. You didn’t think anything could ever distract you from his perfect body- but you were wrong. 

A massive bruise splashed across Bucky’s skin. The cluster of broken blood vessels was dark at the center- nearly black. It exploded into by purples and blues that stained his right shoulder and eclipsed his chest. Sometimes, an angry, red haze leaked from the edges like a wine stain. Greens and yellows- signs of healing- colored the border every now and then. But no matter how many times you bore witness, they never seemed to overtake the tones of violet and navy. 

For whatever reason, this thing refused to heal.

On more occasions than you could count, you asked Bucky about this large indigo mark. And he always had an answer:

“Ran through a wall”

“Jumped out of a plane”

“That John Walker asshole hit me with Steve’s shield”

He did, indeed, have a dangerous job and a penchant for peril. For taking risks. But no one else on the team ever seemed to have a bruise like that. Even you received your fair share of stitches and broken ribs, but never anything as persistent as Bucky’s bruise. 

Wasn’t he a super soldier? Wasn’t he supposed to heal fast- really fast? His other injuries disappeared like they’d never happened; why did this bruise stick around? 

“I think you need to get that looked at,” you told him once, “it can’t be good that it never heals...”

Bucky shrugged it off with a smile. He kissed you on the forehead and thanked you for your concern. But he didn’t get it checked out. He downplayed the massive bruise eclipsing his body and moved on, just like he always did. 

“What are you lookin’ at?” Bucky quirked a brow at you, his shy smile making another appearance.

You shrugged, “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“It’s not- it’s not that bad,” Bucky did his best to hide his bruise with his vibranium hand, but the colors extended far past what he could cover. “I’m used to it.”

Something had to be wrong with him, right? Something inside his body had to be out of order. The first time you saw it- the first time you saw him without his shirt- was six months ago. How long could a bruise last? And how long did he have it before he showed it to you? 

Why hadn’t the serum fixed it by now?

Bucky was well past his expiration date. He lived more years than the universe intended, and his body suffered enough trauma for a hundred lifetimes. He was strong, he was a survivor. But every time you stole a glance at the inky spot on his skin, anxiety blocked your airway. Part of you wondered if this mark signaled his end. There was a chance that his body already started breaking down, that all those years of abuse caught up with him. Maybe his bruise was a harbinger. Maybe his days were numbered. Maybe he was dying. 

Maybe you were about to lose him.

Those kinds of thoughts pushed bile into your throat. You shoved them into the darkest corners of your mind and did your best to lock them away, but they reappeared from time to time just to hurt you. Taunt you. Bring you to tears. And while Bucky made his way into the bathroom and turned on the hot water, you remained fixated on the inky spot. On his demise. 

Bucky did his best to let the shower cleanse his mind. He told himself he’d let it all go- all the guilt and the blame. He knew he didn’t deserve it. But his shame didn’t run down the drain. It didn’t wash away with the warm spray of the shower. No, he remained coated in it, dripping with it, no matter how hard he scrubbed. And though it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, he never welcomed its reemergence.

A sliver of levity wriggled into his chest as he emerged from the bathroom. He found you reading in bed, your brows knit together in that cute way he loved. But your focus shattered when he stepped into the bedroom. He watched you dogear your page and shut your book as he climbed into bed. 

“You don’t have to stop reading because of me, doll-” 

“I was only reading while I waited for you,” you extended a hand in his direction and tugged him closer. He didn’t need to know that you only opened your book to distract from your crippling anxiety about his condition. He didn’t need to know that you read the same paragraph over and over and over without retaining a word. “Now that you’re here, I don’t need any other form of entertainment.”

“Is that so?” He narrowed his eyes at you and gestured to the book resting on your chest, “I’m better than Dracula?”

“Way better. So, the guy drinks blood and sleeps in a coffin-” You shot him a wink and knocked your book to the floor, “big whoop.” A dramatic eye roll and a quick laugh accompanied your comments about Bram Stoker’s masterpiece. But a sudden seriousness banished your playful tone as you gave Bucky a once over. He didn’t look any better- not that he ever looked bad. But the hot shower did nothing to help him relax. All his muscles remained taught. His brow still furrowed. The tension in his jaw seemed to turn to concrete. He was hurting. 

“How you doin’, Buck?” A gentle hand smoothed over his shoulder and slid down his arm. “You okay?”

A manufactured smile spread across his face. His shoulders rose and fell in an all too casual shrug. “I’m fine- I’m good.” He couldn’t seem to maintain eye contact for more than a few seconds.

Another tug of his hand brought him closer. “You don’t seem fine…”

“No, really. I’m okay,” he brought your hand to his lips and pressed kisses to your palm. He was the farthest thing from okay; it was written all over his face. And though he did his best to put on a façade for you, you saw through the cracks. A heaviness lurked behind the grin he wore. A deep sadness darkened his gaze. You knew he probably spent the entirety of his shower replaying Fury’s words and berating himself within an inch of his life. 

An extra helping of guilt dropped upon Bucky’s shoulders as he studied you. One of your nails dug into the cuticle of another. Your smile remained tight and tense. He could practically see the anxiety surging through your nervous system. And it was all his fault. You were worried about him, upset about him. How could he do this to you when you brough him nothing but peace?

He found it in him to take a deep breath, to let his shoulders fall a fraction of an inch. “It’s just gonna take a little time for me to get out of the shitty headspace Fury put me in. I’ll be alright-” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, “I promise.”

Fucking Fury. He seemed to allow everyone else chance after chance; he granted grace to every other member of the team. Everyone but Bucky. “You wanna get some sleep, then?” you cupped Bucky’s cheek, “hopefully, you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Bucky nodded. He reached over and flipped off his bedside lamp before giving his pillow a few adjustments. He got settled under the covers and waited for you to do the same- but you didn’t. You laid there, watching him. 

“You gonna turn your lamp off, doll?”

“Not until you’re all situated.”

Bucky looked down at his perfectly arranged covers and then back at you, “I’m um, I think I’m settled, baby.”

You quirked a brow at him, “Are you though? Come on-” you found his hand under the covers and pulled him closer. “Assume the position, Barnes.”

He let out a labored, tired laugh. “Baby, thank you, but I can’t. My hair’s still wet, you’re gonna be cold-”

“I don’t care- you had a rough day.”  You could practically see the war raging within Bucky’s psyche. He was dying to crawl into your embrace a disappear into your warmth. But he couldn’t- not tonight. 

“It’s okay, doll. You don’t have to, it’s-” 

“Come onnn, Buck. You knowwww you waaaant toooooo.” You gave your chest a few light pats, beckoning him to you. “I know it always makes you feel better.”

Of course, he wanted to. Something about resting his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat, and feeling your hands in his hair eased his soul. Even on his darkest, most soul-crushing days, he found solace with you. But guilt still gnawed at him; Fury’s rant played on a constant loop inside his head. And after what he’d supposedly done, he didn’t feel as though he deserved your love. 

“Baby, I know you feel bad; And I know you’re trying to deprive yourself. But guilty or not- which you are not-” you gave his hand a squeeze, “you deserve comfort.”

A touch of heartbreak colored your voice. You were desperate to help Bucky, nearly begging him to grant himself some grace. Some care. In his attempts to hurt himself by staying far from your embrace, he’d hurt you instead. He’d made you sad, filled you with worry. He wondered if he’d ever be able to do anything right. 

In an instant, he did as you asked; he’d do anything to make you feel better. His head rested against your chest, his wet hair dampening your shirt. It sent a rush of goosebumps over your skin- but you didn’t care. A deep sigh left Bucky’s chest as he melted against you. He often swore his body was made to fit yours, that he only existed to touch and be touched by you. 

“See? Isn’t that better?”

“Mhmm…” he sighed, “much.”

You ran a hand through his wet hair, “Good. Now, let’s get some sleep. Okay?” You flicked off your lamp and wrapped your arms around Bucky, willing every ounce of your love into his body. He’d feel better in the morning- you knew he would. He just needed time and rest and a little love. And you gave him more than he ever dreamed of. 

But around two in the morning, a strange sound vibrated on the edges of your consciousness. The dense ‘thud’repeated endlessly, like an eternal metronome. It resounded inside your head, mixing itself in with your dream until it finally woke you. 

With your face still smushed into your pillow, you muttered Bucky’s name. The sound stopped- maybe you imagined it. Maybe it really was just part of your dream. Silence settled over your room once again and lulled you back to sleep. 

But only a few minutes later, that sound woke you once again.

Your words came out sloppy, heavy with sleep. “Whass tha noise?” 

No answer. 

“Baby,” you said, more alert this time, “You hear that?”

Bucky didn’t respond. 

With a groan, you forced your eyes open. There was no sign of disturbance or struggle; nothing out of the ordinary caught your eye. Everything was in its place- except Bucky. And when you pressed your palm against his side of the bed, the sheets lacked any remnants of his warmth. 

This wasn’t like him- not anymore, anyway. Back when you first got together, Bucky left the room when he woke from a night terror. He’d slip out of bed and escape to the living room, forcing himself to withstand his panic attack all alone. But one night, you found him on the living room floor- desperate for breath. He clutched the corner of the rug and gritted his teeth, willing the anxiety to receded. 

He flinched when you touched him; he didn’t hear you approach over the pounding in his ears. But the second he saw you, he reached for you. His sickly white knuckles regained their color as he released his fists and collapsed against you. He dropped his head into your lap, falling forward with the weight of his trauma. And he allowed your voice to soothe his racing mind. He let you guide him out of the agony. 

Of course, he apologized for waking you. For inconveniencing you. Of course, you wouldn’t hear it. And when the panic finally subsided, he let you walk him back to bed. He buried his face in your chest and thanked you a million times over. After that night, you made him promise to wake you when these things happened- no matter what time it was. You made him promise not to suffer in silence. And he agreed. 

You didn’t know he had his fingers crossed. 

“Buck?” the anxious pounding of your heart boomed in your chest. “Baby?” You kicked the blankets from your body and abandoned your bed. Slivers of light made their way through the blinds and splashed across the floor, allowing you to search through the darkness. He wasn’t sitting on the floor or in the armchair near the window. Nor did you find him in the en suite bathroom.  

“Bucky?” The hall was empty and the office void of Bucky’s presence. And while you searched for him, the sound refused to cease. It echoed through seemingly every fiber of the apartment. It haunted every space. Unfounded worries threw themselves at you, fighting to topple you to the ground. What if Bucky was hurt? What if he was gone? 

No- he was fine. Of course, he was. Right? He had to be. The home you shared was safe. Nothing here could hurt or harm him in any way. 

Well, maybe not nothing.

The thudding of your heart grew loud in your ears, nearly eclipsing the mystery sound all together. Part of you even doubted the existence of the noise- maybe it was just your anxiety getting to you. Maybe Bucky was in the kitchen grabbing a late-night snack, perfectly safe and happy. 

But when you rounded the corner into the living room, all doubt fell away. Shards of your heart did the same as you stood in shock, watching the source of the sound reveal itself. 

Bucky sat on the floor near the window, his back resting against the couch. 

His metal fist hammered against his right shoulder again and again, beating the flesh a sickly blue. 

The utter shock stole your breath, forcing it violently from your lungs. A burning erupted from your chest and spread through your every cell like wildfire. The floor seemed to tilt and ripple as a wave of dizziness sent you nearly collapsing into the closest wall. And through all of it, the sound persisted. The sickly thud of metal striking skin, striking bone.

But there was no time for your shock or sadness or heartbreak. Bucky needed you.

“Buck? Hey-” In only a few strides, you made your way to his side. But he didn’t look at you. He didn’t meet your eyes when you sat down in front of him, nor did he stop his assault. “Bucky, baby, can you look at me?” 

He didn’t. He simply forced his hand against his chest over and over, no matter the pain. 

“Bucky,” you didn’t recognize your own voice. It came out more strained, more desperate than you’d ever heard it. The sight of Bucky doing this to himself almost made you sick, the sound covered you in goosebumps. A flood of saliva rushed into your mouth, warning you of the impending threat of vomit- but you forced it down.

Every time you asked about it, every time you wondered what caused that bruise- you never imagined it was self-inflicted. 

“I need you to stop, okay?” Your words came out frantic, “Can you- can you just look at me for a second?”

His hollow gaze remained fixed on the floor. Anguish twisted his features, pulling his face into a pained mask. But his eyes held no life. 

“Please-” your palm landed on his bruised shoulder mere seconds before the next strike. The force of his vibranium fist was sure to shatter your hand, but you didn’t care. You’d do anything to stop him from hurting himself. Anything to ease his pain. And if you couldn’t make him stop, maybe you could soften the blow. 

But just as his fist once again neared his shoulder, he stopped. “Move,” his voice was low, almost timid.

“No.”

“Doll,” his eyes remained downcast, “I need you to move your hand.”

You refused. “I’m not gonna move, Buck. I’m not gonna let you hurt yourself.”

Finally, he dragged his shame-filled gaze upward. His despondent look sliced through you, cutting right to the bone. This was worse than the vacant stare he wore moments ago; this was utter misery. “Please…” his voice caught in his throat, barely pushing its way past the tension. “Move.”

But your hand remained; you’d keep it there until the end of time if you had to. 

Warm, salty tears breached your lips as you spoke, and only then did you realize you were crying. “Buck, why are you doing this?”

“Because I know you won’t.” He clenched and unclenched his metal fist in a never-ending cycle, itching to resume his efforts. “None of you will. Not Sam. Not Hill. Not ever Fury. So, I have to.”

“Of course, we won’t. Why- Why would we?” It was an unfathomable thought. 

“I need- I deserve to be punished. I deserve to face consequences for my actions.” The words fell from his lips in what resembled a recitation, like he had a script to follow. Like he’d said this before. “There are always consequences…” Again, he pulled his hand into a fist; the vibranium whined under his strength. “There have to be consequences.”

“There were consequences- your meeting with Fury? That was the consequence.”

He shook his head, “It’s not enough- people got hurt.”

“It’s more than enough…” With your free hand, you reached for Bucky’s cold fist. He resisted at first, almost scared to be without his method of punishment. But he never could resist your touch. One at a time, you uncurled his fingers from his tight fist. You pressed his cold palm against your chest and held it there, allowing the beat of your heart to vibrate through the metal. “Especially because you didn’t do anything wrong. People got hurt- but it’s not your fault.”

Bucky ached to maim himself. He needed to feel pain. Needed to get what he thought he deserved. But he couldn’t bring himself to tear his hand from your chest. And though you blocked his bruise and made punishment impossible, he liked the way your palm felt against his black and blue skin. It was the one part of him you always shied away from for fear of hurting the already tender flesh. But your touch soothed the deep ache.

“Baby, how…” you swallowed the lump forming in your throat, “how often do you do this?” You weren’t sure you wanted the answer; just the thought of Bucky doing this to himself day in and day out filled your chest with storm clouds. But you needed to know.

His words held a deep shame, “Whenever I deserve it.”

“Buck, you’ve had that bruise for at least six months...”

He shrugged, “I deserve it a lot.”

Everything inside you burst into flames. You wanted to tear Hydra apart, to destroy them for what they did to Bucky. They altered his sense of self so violently, so irreparably, that they changed who he saw in the mirror. He viewed himself only as a vehicle for destruction, a receptacle for other peoples’ wrongs. They drilled into him an acceptance of abuse, of pain, of torture. And now, he didn’t know how to operate without it. 

“No, you don’t- you don’t deserve this.” A small quiver forced its way into your voice, “even if this whole thing was your fault- which it wasn’t- you wouldn’t deserve to be hurt.”

He stared at you for a long moment. Sometimes, he didn’t understand. He couldn’t comprehend the sentiment that he didn’t deserve pain and suffering; that he wasn’t always to blame. It was almost like you spoke different languages. Shuri may have eliminated the Winter Soldier programming and rendered his trigger words useless, but she couldn’t remove his shame. His guilt. His instinct to assume blame.  

“I can’t do anything right-” His right hand gripped the edge of the rug. He needed some way to release his tension, his anxiety. The fabric bunched inside his fist and twisted with his every move. 

“It seems like no matter what I do- or don’t do- someone ends up hurt. That says something about me, doesn’t it?” 

“No. It doesn’t.” You slowly removed your hand from his metal wrist and found his right fist. He eased the tension in his grip with your help and released the corner of the rug. It fell crumpled against the hardwood, struggling to regain its shape. “Buck, you always say that you blame yourself because you think you’re a bad person. But I actually think you blame yourself because you’re a good person.”

He gave a small shake of his head. 

“You’re willing to shoulder whatever guilt or blame other people put on you- regardless of whether you deserve it- because you’re not selfish.” He was, in fact, the least selfish person in the world. He’d set himself on fire to keep you warm. Would move heaven and earth to make you smile. He was loyal, devoted. He cared about you, about his friends, without ever putting himself first. 

“And you haven’t buried yourself in ego or pride like some of the other guys we work with.” 

Bucky let out a soft laugh. 

No, he didn’t bury himself in ego; he had no ego. His self-image wasn’t inflated or overexaggerated. He just wanted to do his best. To help. To offset with light some of the darkness he caused. 

“And maybe it’s your way of seeking redemption- not that you need to be redeemed,” you gave his hand a squeeze. “But maybe part of you feels like if you accept enough responsibility, it’ll make up for the things you were forced to do as the Winter Soldier.” 

He let out a sigh from somewhere deep within him, somewhere he didn’t know he had. It seemed to him like he’d been holding on to this truth, this breath, since the day he escaped. And here, in the darkness, he released it. “I just… I don’t want to be the bad guy anymore.”

“That’s the thing Buck,” you gently stroked a few fingertips across his massive bruise, “You never were.”

His forehead fell against yours. The two of you sat there, motionless, for what felt like forever. Cars moved on the streets below. Thunder rolled through the sky. Rain drops tapped against the large windows. But neither of you noticed. 

“If I move this hand-” you tapped your once again fingers against his bruised shoulder, “are you gonna do it again?”

He shook his head. 

With great hesitancy, you removed your palm from the evidence of his self-inflicted punishment. It looked worse in the eerie 2am lighting, like a black hole formed on his skin; you feared it might envelope him completely if you let it. Your lips replaced your hand, leaving the softest of kisses across his skin. Bucky let loose a small sound- something like a whimper- as you traced the bruise with your mouth. He let a few tears slip down his cheeks. 

“Thank you…”

You took a moment to drink him in. He was stronger than humanly possible. Hugely muscular. Nearly indestructible. But in the middle of the night on the floor of your living room, he looked so small. So fragile. His shoulders caved forward, and his read remained bowed. His voice wavered. His right hand shook ever so slightly. He was a man haunted, possessed by his past. Fearing the future. He was hurt. Broken. Lost in others’ perceptions of himself. He lay trapped under his need for validation from those around him. He sought approval from people who never dreamed of granting it. 

You wondered if he’d ever be free from his ghosts, or if they’d follow him until he became one himself. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” you pressed a kiss to his forehead. “All I ever want is to be there for you when you need me.” The tremor in your voice matched Bucky’s. Pure hurt rendered the air around you thick and heavy. You ached for Bucky, and he, in return, ached to be anyone but himself. 

“What do you wanna do? We can go back to bed. Or if you don’t feel like sleeping, we can hang out in here and watch some tv.” You ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, “Up to you.” 

Bucky’s mind still raced. His brain sat stewing in a deep pit of sorrow and anguish. But he was tired- exhausted. And while his mind wanted to stay up for a while, he let his body decide. His chest and shoulder screamed with pain. His skin stung. Each breath forced a sharp agony into his consciousness; he knew he must’ve cracked a rib. “Let’s-” he grimaced as an inhale filled his lungs, “let’s go back to bed.”

As gently as you could, you helped Bucky from the floor. He smiled when your hand found his as you led him in the direction of the bedroom. The two of you shuffled down the dark hall in silence with no clue what to say. Bucky wanted to apologize; you wanted to drown him in promises of your love. 

Bucky stopped short when you paused, almost running into you. You turned to him suddenly, eying his bruise in the dim light. “You go ahead, okay? I’m gonna grab you an ice pack.”

“Doll, thank you, but I’m fine-”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “does it hurt?”

He shrugged; the motion made him wince. “I mean, yeah. But it’s-”

“Exactly.” You pushed up on your tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek, “I’m gonna get you an ice pack. You get your ass to bed- I’ll be there in a second.”

Bucky whispered a ‘thank you’ and headed in the direction of the bedroom, leaving you alone. But just as he turned the corner down the hall, guilt wrapped around his ankles like a ball and chain. He was stuck; his need to apologize rendering him frozen. He watched you turn in the direction of the kitchen and wondered what he did to deserve you. “Hey, doll…” he called after you. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“Nothing to apologize for. I promise.”

“But I-”

 “You’re doing your best. You’re coping in the only way you know how. That’s not something to be sorry for.”

Bucky shrugged, winced, and disappeared into the bedroom, eager to escape your line of sight. Everything you did, you did for him. And though that knowledge should’ve eased Bucky’s soul, it only added to his guilt. He marked yet another tally to the long, long list of ways in which he didn’t deserve you. 

The walk to the kitchen wasn’t long- but it provided a sliver of extra time for you to cope in private. If Bucky knew just how much this upset you, how heartbroken you were, he’d never forgive himself. He, instead, would add that knowledge to his ever-growing mountain of shame. He’d adopt a new method of self-punishment, something more subtle, easier to hide. And he’d never express his guilt or shame to you ever again, all to save your feelings. You couldn’t do that to him; he deserved an outlet, a sounding board, a space to vent. You’d never dream of robbing him of that. 

“Alright, here we go,” you pushed open the bedroom door. “I got you one of the big ones, cause that thing is massive, and-” If you didn’t look up at the right moment, you would’ve crashed right into Bucky. 

He stood near the foot of the bed, just inside the door, almost vibrating with anxiety. It rolled through him in waves and placed tremors in his hands. He didn’t stand a fighting chance. 

His massive frame looming in the darkness almost blocked your path completely- and scared the hell out of you. “Shit-” You tripped over your own feet and stumbled backward, but Bucky wouldn’t let you fall.

He caught you in the nick of time, snatching you from the air and righting you on your feet. “Oh, hey- I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Without a word, you pressed the towel-wrapped ice pack to his skin. Though he detested the cold, the sensation awarded him much needed relief. A deep sigh left his chest as his pain receptors deadened and the constant, months-long throbbing subsided. This was the first thing to put his pain on pause in- he couldn’t remember how long.

You searched his face for any indicators of discomfort, “How does that feel?”

All he could do was nod. The two of you stood there a while as Bucky drank in the relief. The muscles in his shoulders released their tension, his breaths came a bit easier. But something dark lurked beneath his quiet surface. 

“Such a gentleman, waiting for me to come back before getting in bed,” you threw him a wink.  

Bucky’s attempted laugh came out broken, disjointed. To his credit, he tried to laugh for real. He wanted to put this whole night behind him and slide into bed with you. Under the covers, surrounded by your body heat, nothing could hurt him. The skeletons of his past couldn’t claw out of the ground and wreak havoc on his psyche. But a nagging dread yanked at his heart. 

He couldn’t pretend things were resolved. He couldn’t forget his troubles and intertwine his body with yours like the knit of a well-loved sweater. The crushing weight of Fury’s blame sat atop his shoulders, growing heavier by the second. But he couldn’t find it in him to tell you, to ask you for help. 

“Come on, let’s go back to sleep. Okay?” You tucked the ice pack into Bucky’s hand and started toward your side of the bed, “I know you’ve gotta be exhausted.”

But Bucky didn’t follow. He didn’t join you, didn’t even nod. He stood there, stuck, his feet anchored to the floor. The cold pack ate through his nerve endings until his hand went numb. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t fill his lungs. They felt shallower, somehow- like they lost all capacity. 

His deadened fingers fell open, allowing the ice pack to fall against the floor. The sound pulled your focus, halting your efforts to right the sheets and blankets. 

“Buck?”

He didn’t answer. 

“Hey…” Quick steps brought you face to face with his empty stare. “Is everything-”

His knees met the hardwood as the weight of his anxiety forced him into submission. He fell against the cold floor with a sickening thud, his body shaking with the force. His head bowed; his spine curved forward. Ragged inhales forced their way into his ever-constricting lungs.

“Please-” he begged through choppy breaths, “if you won’t let me do it myself, I need- I need you to.”

“Buck, I’m-”

“I need you to hurt me.”

His words gutted you. 

“Baby, no.”

He begged over and over for punishment. For pain. 

Bucky fell against you the moment you joined him on the floor. His head lay buried in your neck, his sharp breaths fanning your skin. He begged through the tears, through the torment, for pain. And you refused. Instead, you gave him the lightest, softest affections you could manage. 

Under different circumstances, your gentle touch would’ve saved him. It would’ve brought him comfort in his moment of distress, grounded him during a bout of panic. But he didn’t want kind hands. For the first time, your soft touches prolonged the agony. The light circles you rubbed against his back filled him with impending doom. With misery. He wanted torture. Agony. 

And even if he were dying, he’d willingly sacrifice his last breath to ask for punishment. 

As carefully as you could, you helped Bucky lay down on the floor. How his body continued to run remained a mystery to you. He was drained, physically and emotionally. He was hurt. Panic ravaged his nervous system and pumped him full of cortisol. He was running on empty. 

“Let’s try to relax a bit, okay? Let’s try to breathe-”

He shook his head against the rug, “No, I need- I need it. I need you to- can you…” His words came out weak- but desperate.

Your hands raked through his hair and massaged his knotted muscles. Over and over again, you swore your love to him. You showered him in assurances and words of kindness. And though he was grateful when sleep won him over, it didn’t stop his efforts. Even as he finally dozed off, he begged. 

“P- please…” he sighed, his eyelids fluttering. “Need you… need you to.” His hand twitched, his brow furrowed. “Hurt- hurt me.” Hearing it didn’t get any easier. 

For what must’ve been the millionth time, you refused. 

And while Bucky slept in your arms, you remained wired. Every cell in your body swam in a cocktail adrenaline and cortisol. You wondered if you’d ever sleep again.  Just when you thought Bucky’s story couldn’t get any darker, it seemed to do just that. His life was all shadows and wormholes wrapped in an inky abyss. No stars, no moon. Just shapeless, unsettling, endless night. 

He deserved better. 

The sun rose as you fell asleep. Your mind shut off; your body gave out. Thinking yourself in circles while Bucky slept in the safety of your arms depleted your every ounce of energy. Worrying this much didn’t seem healthy; you didn’t think it was even possible to feel such deep concern. You never knew how taxing crying could be. But Bucky was worth it- hands down. 

No part of you wanted to fall asleep; Bucky couldn’t be left unsupervised. But a biological need for rest demanded you get some shut eye. And while you slept off the gut-wrenching night you’d spent with Bucky, anxiety seeped into your dreams. Images of Bucky maiming himself flashed behind your eyes. You saw him bloodying his body, abusing himself. His bruise haunted you. 

Waking in bed threw you for a loop. Only a few hours ago, you’d dozed off on the throw rug covering your bedroom floor. But when you opened your eyes, you found yourself snuggled under the duvet with Bucky’s body under yours. His arms held you tight, your face nuzzled into his neck. This was how things were supposed to be. 

It was then you realized- your head lay against his bruise. Even in your sleep, you did your best to protect him from himself. He wouldn’t dare strike his shoulder and risk hurting you. But the weight of your skull had to hurt him, didn’t it? He was sore, miserably so. Just the pressure of your palm resting against his bruise the night before made him wince- surely, your head was too much. With the utmost caution, you pulled your head from his chest.

“It’s okay- doesn’t hurt,” his voice was weak, full of exhaustion. You didn’t know he was awake. 

“Oh. Okay, good. I, um,” you looked around for a few seconds. “I don’t remember getting in bed.”

“We didn’t- well, you didn’t.” He couldn’t believe that after everything he put you through the previous night- all the pain, the heartache, the worry- he let you fall asleep on the floor. It was selfish of him, inconsiderate. He should’ve insisted that you get in bed. He should’ve done what you asked and crawled under the covers with you. He failed you- again. “I didn’t want you to sleep on the floor…” 

Your lips met his skin in a chain of soft kisses, “You know I don’t mind.”

“But I do,” he returned every kiss you granted him.

He woke nearly half an hour after you finally dozed off and found you curled up against him. Your head rested against the cold hard wood; the itchy rug left marks against your skin. A small shiver rattled up your spine and pushed you closer to Bucky’s warm embrace; it was too cold for you to sleep without a blanket. His body begged him to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t- not yet. He lifted you from the floor, his shoulder aching with the effort, and tucked you into bed with all the care in the world. Only then could he fall asleep once again. 

“I’m sorry about- about all of it,” he said. “Last night was-”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you pulled your face from his chest, “I just wanna know what that was about.”

Bucky hoped that acting innocent would save him. “What?” Maybe if he pretended like he didn’t know what you were talking about, you’d move on. Maybe you’d tell him to forget it and save him the explanation. You didn’t.

“When you asked me to…” you gave a small shake of your head, “to hurt you.” The pain in your voice sliced through Bucky. He wondered if words could make him bleed. 

“Oh. Yeah. That was… I was out of line,” his jaw tensed. “That wasn’t okay. I know I made you uncomfortable- I’m sorry. I never wanna upset you. I was being stupid. And selfish. It wasn’t fair of me-”

The shame practically dripped from Bucky’s lips. You could almost see in running down his chin, staining his skin. He expressed his remorse for things that weren’t his fault, for things he couldn’t control. He told you how sorry he was for his trauma responses and the anxiety that held him hostage. Maybe one day, he’d believe you when you told him he didn’t have to apologize. Today was not that day. 

“I’m just worried about you, Buck. And I wanna help in any way I can-” you took a deep breath, “I just can’t help in that way.”

“I know.”

“Can you maybe tell me- can you help me understand?”

He remained silent for a long while. If he stayed quiet long enough, he could avoid any further distress on your part. With his silence, he could provide solace. But no. You had a penchant for knowing what made Bucky tick, no matter the pain it caused you. 

Your unflinching stare drilled through him until he couldn’t take it any longer. “I needed you to hurt me because that’s what I’m used to. I’m used to punishment,” he finally said. “Because when I fucked up at Hydra, there were consequences. They’d beat me within an inch of my life to get the message across.”

Of course, this was a sad truth you already knew. But hearing it aloud- from his lips- gutted you. The image of a cowering, broken Bucky sent bile rushing up your throat. You could see him lying in a cell somewhere, his blood staining the concrete as Rumlow tore him apart. And of course, he’d never fight back- he couldn’t. Not unless ordered to. 

“And now, that’s what I’m accustomed to,” he rested a hand against his bruise, almost on instinct. “I don’t know how to operate without it. I thought I’d be happy to never experience it again but… I feel like I need it.”

Showing Bucky kindness and understanding sat atop your priority list- but you couldn’t grasp his perspective. It didn’t make sense. He lived a life so foreign to you, so utterly other, that the things he said often left you confused. While the two of you had many similarities and things in common, some experiences would simply never be relatable. Some stories could never be shared. 

And similar to how Bucky couldn’t understand your flagrant disregard for locking the front door, you couldn’t fathom why he’d beat himself blue.  

“Why, Buck?” It wasn’t that you wanted to know. No, the truth could only serve to hurt you. But you needed to understand. You needed to untangle every knot within Bucky’s psyche and help mend his frayed edges. In order to help him, you had to first grasp his perspective. “Why do you ‘need’ it?”

“Because I know I deserve it.” The words came out course, almost aggressive. Bucky shot you a sheepish look, his method of a wordless apology. The next time he spoke, his voice was softer, his tone more even. “I’ve been conditioned to expect it. And waiting for that pain is- it’s torture. It’s almost worse than the punishment itself.” 

He thought back on all the beatings he received as result of fucking up missions. On one occasion, they broke all twelve of his ribs in one sitting. Another time, they turned almost his entire body blue with bruises. But the times they made him wait it out were far worse than any bloodshed. He jumped at every sound, lost the ability to think. To sleep. To breathe. Every moment fell prey to the anticipation of agony. Bucky shuddered. 

“I keep expecting pain. I feel like I have to look over my shoulder.” The urge to tear himself apart scratched at the inside of Bucky’s skull. If he could just deliver his punishment- if he could just get what he knew was coming- he’d be okay. By destroying his body, he could soothe his mind. But with you so close, staring at him with your blood shot, heartbroken eyes, he was stuck. “It’s like this sense of impending doom that doesn’t end unless I get what I know is coming.”

Things fell quiet as you thought over his words. Anxiety was an old friend you knew well. It accompanied you through everything, never leaving your side for more than a few days. But what Bucky described- that was the stuff of nightmares. That was misery. 

“Hang on,” you tripped over a detail in his story, “then what happened last night?” You didn’t mean to sound skeptical- it wasn’t like that at all. You believed every word Bucky said. One part, however, didn’t quite make sense. “Last night, you got your punishment. You got the pain. Why did you ask me to-”

He sighed, “Last night was different. You caught me. I had to stop- I’ve never done that before. I’ve never stopped right in the middle. I was only out there a little while before you found me.” His vibranium hand pulled into a fist and slowly released. He did this time and time again as the urge hurt himself gnawed at him. “I didn’t do enough. It felt like holding in a sneeze or something. And when we came in here to go to sleep, I still had this sense of looming pain, an impending punishment. And I knew you wouldn’t let me give it to myself. So, I asked you to do it.” 

The far-away look in his eye dissolved as he came screeching back to the present. Guilt dragged his features downward into a near scowl. “But I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry.” The remorse weighed more than he could shoulder. If he thought he knew what guilt felt like before, he was wrong. 

“It’s okay, Buck.” You knew the memory of Bucky begging you for punishment would haunt you forever. It took up prime real estate in your mind and cut you deeper each time you paid it attention. But he couldn’t help it; this was part of his journey. When you started dating Bucky, you knew he wasn’t a ‘regular’ person. Darkness and demons followed him wherever he went, filling his mind with horrors most people could never imagine. Of course, there were going to be speed bumps and rough patches on the road of your relationship. But he never did anything with malice in his heart. He was simply trying to survive. “I know you’re just doing your best-”

“My best is pretty shitty.”

He was always so callous with himself, so unforgiving. It wasn’t fair. “Baby, you’ve made a lot of progress.” He was a completely different person than he was a few months ago. He’d worked hard every day to wade through his trauma and find himself on the other side- all while saving the world. “But it doesn’t all have to happen at once. You can’t heal from everything in one fell swoop. It’s not linear. It’s a slow process-”

“Really slow.” He let out a huff and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. Part of him wanted to run; he couldn’t believe he’d subjected you- the kindest, most loving person on earth- to this corner of his awful reality. But he knew being without you was a fate worse than death. Worse than Hydra. 

“I don’t want to do this-” he motioned toward his bruise. “I don’t want to hurt myself. But I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to heal the part of me that’s always looking over my shoulder for a punishment.”

You smoothed his hair back and let your hand drift down his cheek, “You don’t have to do it on your own, Buck. Maybe you should talk to someone-”

He shot you a pointed look.

“Not Dr. Raynor. Someone else. Someone with empathy.” 

Bucky gave a firm nod and a quiet laugh. “Okay, yeah. That works. 

“And in the meantime, whenever you feel that impulse, I want you to tell me, okay? I want to help you through in whatever way I can.”

He tried to protest, but you silenced him. “I’m in this with you- full stop. I’m with you for all the hard stuff and the things you hate about yourself. I’m always in your corner.”

He snaked his arms around you and pulled you as close as possible, relishing in the feeling of your heart beating against his skin. 

“This is a pain-free household, okay? We don’t do punishments here. We don’t hurt ourselves, and we don’t hurt each other.” You wiggled a hand free and offered Bucky your pinky, “promise?”

Not hurting you was a given; Bucky would never dream of causing you pain. But refraining from hurting himself was another story. The need sometimes possessed him, drove him to harm himself when the guilt grew too heavy. The look in your eyes, though, pushed him to promise you. You held such love for him, such adoration. And he knew you meant every word you said. You were going to help him through, to support him, no matter what. 

He linked his pinky with yours, “Promise.”

“Good.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before pulling away, “hey, do you have Fury’s address?”

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “Uh, yeah. I think it’s in my notebook in the office. Why?”

In one swift motion, you slithered from Bucky’s arms and slid out of bed. “Oh, no reason,” you sighed as you headed for the door, “I’m just gonna egg his house.”

———————

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[dragonnarrative-writes]

Forming the Pack - Part 1

Autumn Embers Master List

Pheromones aren’t everything, of course, but you’ll get more cohesive group dynamics if everyone has scents that go together. Scent blockers and diffusers are everywhere in common spaces, so it’s not like people who’s scents don’t mesh can’t be around each other. Lots of people with subtler or hard to pin down scents only go au naturel on special occasions with family and their special someone.

Of course, the military is a whole other beast.

Almost every person serving active duty is an alpha, which lends itself to clashes. And alphas, who already tend to have stronger scents, put out even more aggressive pheromones in close proximity with one another. Industrial strength scent diffusers can only do so much. It results in proximity packs forming, alphas who are scent compatible spending more time with each other.

The 141 doesn’t form because of scent compatibility. When Price finds Simon and forms the task force, he doesn’t much care about what they each smell like. Their scents being on wildly different parts of the spectrum is better than if they were too close, Price reasons. His gear smells a bit spicy, Simon’s always has an earthy undertone. It’s easy to avoid squabbling, and only made easier by the way Simon readily assumes his position as John’s second. No muss, no fuss.

The first year passes. It’s hard work, but Simon makes it undeniably simpler. The Ghost has a presence that demands deference from the temporary members of the task force. And because Ghost follows his captain, that deference extends to Price. The two times someone had tried to upset the balance, Simon had reacted with such swift ferocity that Price hadn’t known there was a problem before it was resolved with a neck under a boot.

“Stand down, Ghost,” Price says around his cigar, the third time.

“'S soon as he acknowledges his superiors, Skipper,” Ghost rumbles, staring down at the sergeant who’s face is going an interesting shade of purple with shame and a lack of oxygen. “Yield, corporal.” The sergeant frantically taps Ghost’s boot. Ghost gives him just enough room to heave a breath, and snarls down, “Yield to the Captain.”

“Captain, I yield,” the young man gasps.

“You ever flout orders again, I’ll kill you myself,” Ghost growls.

After that, the mission had gone smoothly.

Days later, it’s just the two of them again, walking home from the pub. It’s a nice enough night for it, and they’re both too jumpy to call a car. Simon follows without comment, just lights a cigarette and falls into John’s wake, like always.

Four blocks from the base, Simon says, “Gotta piss.”

John snorts. “What, you didn’t go before we left? Hold it.”

“Alright,” Simon drawls. Without breaking stride, he lights another cigarette.

Of course, within another block, John becomes too aware of his own bladder. If Simon hadn’t said anything, he could probably have made it. Annoyed, he steps into an alley and behind a dumpster. His nose does not appreciate the assault on his senses, but he’s a soldier, he’s smelled worse. Simon stands guard at mouth of the alley as he does his business.

When he emerges, he tips his head. “Goin’?”

Simon quirks an eyebrow and exhales a cloud of smoke. “Am I?”

Price hums, takes in Simon’s relaxed posture. Without the skull covered balaclava, he’s softer. Not civilian soft - he’s still almost 2 meters of alpha, hardened by military training and torture. But where most military As balk at taking orders when they’re not in the field, Simon looks for ways to let Price lead.

Simon will do what ever John tells him. It’s a realization that probably shouldn’t thrill him the way it does.

John waves him into the alley. “Be quick about it.”

Without comment, Simon hands his half-finished cigarette over and steps into the alley. John contemplates it as Simon does his business. He prefers cigars, but he takes a drag and tells himself it’s just to keep it lit.

But when Simon re-emerges, John doesn’t hand it back. And Simon doesn’t ask.

[venerawrites]

Omg I love your writing and am so so here for all the Gaara love! ♥️

Could you pretty please do Gaara finding out his S/O is pregnant?

author's note: thank you so much, you are so sweet! I love this request, it is so cute! Thank you so much for the idea! <3

Gaara never wanted to be a dad.

Not because he didn't love you or because he didn't want to share his life with you...

But rather because he did not believe he was fit to be a parent himself.

Firstly, he was a pretty busy man and knew he would not be able to spend a lot of time with his child. Being the son of the late Kazekage himself, he knew how rare family dinners and walks to the park were.

Secondly, he has never been good with children. Growing up without any friends, he was unsure how to handle anyone below the age of 10.

Like, how are you even supposed to speak to them? Like babies? Like adults? Do they have the capacity to even fully understand words?

Gaara was fully happy with the idea of spending your life together just the two of you, and based on the many conversations you had before, you were too.

But accidents DO happen...

and you DID get pregnant, despite your joint effort to prevent it.

When you saw the two lines on the test, your eyes widened in shock. The idea of becoming a mother hasn't even crossed your mind and here you were, holding the proof that a new life was starting to bloom inside of you.

You didn't know how to break the news to Gaara. So you decided that you are just going to wait for a few days till an appropriate time to share it with him presents itself.

The young Kazekage, however, knew you like the back of his hand and immediately knew something was wrong once he noticed your withdrawn behaviour.

So one morning, before you could even start your day properly, he rolled over on your shared bed, so he was hovering over you and cornered you between his arms.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or do I have to keep you hostage in this bed?", he joked, yet there was a note of concern in his voice.

You stared at him long and hard, not cracking even a smile before abruptly saying:

"I am pregnant."

His smile fell and his whole body stiffened. His eyes became double their normal size and his mouth fell open.

When? How?... What?

Both of you always made sure to use protection, how was that possible?

He will start stuttering questions, crashing next to you with his brows furrowed in confusion. You are going to have to give him some basic sex ed talk about how contraception does not always work 100%.

"I want this child", you told him, eyes focused on your fidgeting hands in your lap, "I don't know about you but-"

Your words were interrupted by the soft feeling of his fingers interlacing with yours. When you looked up at him, he had a soft smile on his face.

"Hey", he gently said, "I want this child too! You are carrying the fruit of our love inside of you."

And at this moment you knew a new, better chapter was about to begin for you two.

I feel like Gaara would try to appear calm and collected about the news, just so he doesn't freak YOU out, but internally he would be scared and nervous.

He would borrow books from Suna's library about how to deal with pregnancies and new parenthood, going as far as even taking some written notes of the tips he finds interesting.

The more time passes, the more overprotective he would become.

Like I don't think he would stop you from doing lower-class missions from the very beginning (especially knowing how stubborn can you be about stuff like that), but after the first 3 months, he is definitely banning you from leaving the village.

He would send Kankuro to check on you regularly, making him use lame excuses that he is just "popping in to take something that Gaara has forgotten in the house".

First 5-6 months are pretty smooth sailing, tbh... Other than the fact that he is more worried than usual about your well-being, I don't think there is going to be much change to your relationship.

But THE LAST 3 MONTHS... OH MY!

This is when your mood swings, cravings, and hormones just go through the roof.

You are constantly unhappy with him - if he is with you, why is he suffocating you? If he is away, why is he working so much?

lots of fights about minor stuff :(

Gaara definitely has the patience of a saint, so poor man would just calmly take your insults and 5 seconds later - your kisses.

He is questioning if he wants a second child, tho

Despite being a busy Kage, he would still make time to pamper you after work by giving you foot massages, preparing your favourite snacks, or going for late-night walks, just because you wanted "some damn fresh air".

Overall, pretty caring and gentle with you during your pregnancy, but not TOO overbearing. He respects your personal freedom and at the end of the day, he thinks you know better than him what you are doing.

[affableramen]

this idea has been living rent-free in my mind jealous!pantalone early stage of relationship, spy and criminal themes

Jealous!Pantalone was coming up with a plan to expose an evil merchant who had been plotting something big and cruel against Teyvat economy. This particular merchant abused power and destroyed many innocent lives. Yet the mastermind Pantalone is, he created a strategy to take over this nasty man’s plans and finally unveil his dirty business. Yet this whole plan had a big flaw - your involvement.

Pantalone, Tartaglia and Arlecchino were all at his desk while he was explaining the rules of the “game” he plotted against the merchant. At last, you enter the room but, good god—what are you wearing?

“I’ll be the bait.” In extraordinary clothes you shine like a precious diamond, and the glittery makeup makes your rounded eyes the centre of attention.

Arlecchino looks at you with approving and slightly proud look - what a bold move you’ve taken for the sake of Fatui’s secret mission. Tartaglia agreed too:

“She is the only one who can do it”, though his words sounded ambiguous and indefinite, Tartaglia coughed into his fist and explained, “I mean… She kind of seduced you too, Pantalone. I think she can work her charms on another merchant just fine.”

“And besides - it will be nothing more than just shallow flirt.” Arlecchino glared at Tartaglia who just could not shut his mouth in time.

Pantalone stopped writing and almost dropped his pen but gripped it immediately then.

“Absolutely not. We’re not doing it.”

He sounded more gloomy and grumpy than usual, not a hint from the familiar friendly-mannered and charming Harbinger.

Everyone stared at him like if he were an idiot.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Y/N won’t be the bait. I do not allow it, even if it is simply for mission purposes.”

“I will simply talk to the target and look pretty, nothing more nothing less”, you finally said, but that did little to convince Pantalone. He shook his head, the Knave and Childe fell silent.

“Are you jealous?” you crossed your arms.

“No.” Pantalone turned away and continued drawing the plan. “This task is extremely dangerous, I refuse Y/N’s involvement.”

“Yes, he obviously is. If I were him, I would feel jealous too”, said Arlecchino nonchalantly.

“Come on, give her a try, Pants. We don’t really have another choice. There should be a beautiful lady involved in such missions. As if someone would die of it!” He rolled his eyes.

Arlecchino gave you a smirk.

“What are you two blabbering about?!” Pantalone finally exploded. “I won’t let her go—not looking like…this!”

“Looking like…what exactly?” Arlecchino was not happy with his choice of words.

To shift the attention in some way and prevent a conflict you used the red lipstick and rubbed your lips together.

“Then it’s decided.”

This little action made Pantalone bite his own dehydrated lips as the sight of you was so intoxicating.

“Is that enough to charm our target?”

“Too much for some greedy old man.” Pantalone responded earlier than Tartaglia or Arlecchino could open their mouths.

“Relax.” You said to him silently.

“How am I supposed to—when you’re going to work your charms on another man?”

“We need it for a job. We need it to take the damn criminal down.”

Pantalone hit the desk with his fist furiously.

“Fuck the plan, I don’t want to sit and watch you flirt with an old jerk.”

Arlecchino and Tartaglia gave each other a knowing glance and left the room.

“You two decide it between yourselves.”

When everyone left Pantalone grabbed you by your hips and set you on top of his desk and kissed you in the lips passionately.

“Stop—come on—you’ll ruin my makeup!”

He only stopped for a second to look at your face again before proceeding to kiss you more anxious and desperate. After a while he pulled away, breathing heavily, like a pathetic jealous old man he is.

“You may flirt with the target but under one condition”, still gasping for breath profusely he says quietly, his fingers lingering on your shoulders as if he were discreetly trying to hug you.

“What is it, [Pantalone's real name]? What are you afraid of?”

One hand appeared on your cheek and he stroked it gently and affectionately.

“You’re going to seduce me later.”

“You’re unbelievable!” You chuckled under your breath. The audacity and bluntness of this man were insufferable. “But I promise to stay safe and come back to you after this all ends.”

[dyli-dadi3]

Kinktober

Day two: High Heels

Leon loves that pair of heels, what can he say?

Summary: You and Leon attend a "party" the government invited Leon to celebrate a successful mission. You wear something that gets Leon worked up and gladly pay the price. Tags: "Public" sex (p in v), Leon is just down bad the entire time.

Leon watches as you apply your makeup, your feet tapping against the floor. He hummed as he saw how you brought some medieval torture device to your eyes, standing up in case you poked yourself. “What are you doing, baby?” He asked in confusion, coming up behind you. 

“Just curling my lashes, honey. Why?” You asked, looking up at him through the mirror. 

“Oh, it looked like you were going to poke yourself, love.” He said softly, a little embarrassed. He shuffled back to the bed, crossing his arms as he waited for you.

Soon enough, you were applying ‘gloss’ as he remembered you telling him once and slipping on a pair of flats underneath your tight dress, your leg peeking out from the high slit. Leon took a deep breath as his eyes trailed up the smooth skin. “You're not gonna wear heels, baby?” He asked, hoping you were going to say yes. 

“Of course I am, baby, just putting on slides for the meantime.” You responded, standing up and grabbing your things from the vanity. 

Yes!

“Oh, okay, then, Honey. “ Leon nodded, grabbing his wallet as he watched you grab a pair of heels from the closet. 

Not just any old pair of heels, his favorite pair. They looked amazing on you, the color making your skin pop, and conveniently (it was intentional on your part, but he didn’t know that) matched your dress perfectly. His dick twitched as he imagined you slipping them on, the heel elongating your figure and making you look nothing less than sexy.

Leon went up behind you, grabbing your hips as he whispered in your ear. “You look amazing, baby. The most beautiful girl in the whole wide world.” He mumbled, kissing the edge of your ear before coming to your side, walking with you as you both slid into his car. The ride was short, and you prattled on about how excited you were to meet all his colleagues for the first time, as well as take advantage of the open bar and free hors d'oeuvres. Leon just smiled, content in listening to you talk while he drove. While he adored listening to you sing your heart out while driving, listening to how your mind worked was interesting to him. He liked to guess what you’d say, or your responses to things. He wanted to know you inside and outside, Leon had pulled to the front of the extravagant venue in no time, watching intently as you slipped off your slides and replaced them with your heels. He gave the valet his car keys before coming to your door and opening it for you. He held your hand and helped you stand, slipping an arm around your waist as you walked inside the extravagant venue.

Leon said hello to any coworkers that came up to him, trying to be polite. He couldn't focus. Every movement you made drew his eyes to you, and so what if you couldn't help his eyes that would trail down your legs?  He finally sat down with everyone else as the President brought his champagne flute in a toast.

Leon wasn't paying attention to that, his hand too busy caressing your thigh through the slit in your dress. You meant to do this, didn't you? He had his theories, but the answer wasn't as entertaining compared to the way your eyes widened at his actions. "What are you doing, Leon?" You had asked him hushedly, grabbing his wrist to still him.

Of course, you had expected this, and if Leon was judging the look on your face correctly, you were as eager as he was. "Just giving my baby what she's been asking for," Leon smirked, staring straight ahead as his hand trailed up, up, up, your smooth flesh. He made sure no one at the table saw what he was doing, his thumb rubbing soft circles onto the plush of your thigh. He couldn't wait to get home, that was for sure. But he also couldn't just leave...

"Love...I need to use the restroom." Leon said softly, squeezing your thigh before getting up and heading to the nearest bathroom. He sighed, placing his palms on the quartz sink, and staring at his reflection in the mirror, twinged with a slight pink hue. He ran his fingers through his brown locks, washing his hands as running water accompanied the light sound of a band playing live. The sounds of string instruments faded into the background as he grew restless.

Maybe she didn't get my hint, or she did and doesn't want-

You walk with a shy smile face as you approach him. "If we get caught and kicked out, you're responsible." You began, but Leon wasn't having any of it.

"Oh just shut up and kiss me, baby." He groaned, grabbing you by the waist and kissing you fiercely, dragging you backward into a "stall." That was a gross understatement, suite was more accurate. A proper door, actual walls instead of stalls, shiny porcelain toilet, clean tile, soft toilet paper. It's almost a shame Leon wasn't in here to take a shit.

Almost

Leon groaned, closing the door and grabbing your ass. You whined, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifted your leg to hook around his hip. "Fuck, you're so sexy... You know that, baby?" Leon whispered, looking down at your bare leg, caressing the skin from your thigh to your ankle. "Who am I kidding? Of course, you do, I make sure to tell you every single day." He whispered in your ear, his lips ghosting your cheek, stubble irritating your soft skin.

"You knew you'd get me all worked up with this. Naughty girl." He sighed, giving your hip a slight pinch. He bit his lip to stifle a moan as he pressed his cock against your panty-clad pussy. "See what you do to me, baby? You're already making me excited and you haven't even touched me yet."

"Stop teasing me, Leon." You whined, pulling him closer so that you could press your lips to his again.

Leon just chuckled, trailing his hand down your hip to your core and using his thumb to push your panties to the side so that he could circle your clit. “So needy.” Leon teased, trailing his thumb down and pushing past your tight heat. “Fuck, gonna take a decade to stretch out your tight cunt, baby. Can’t wait.” He whimpered, shoving two ringers inside you. He pumped them, getting spurred on by your noises of pleasure. 

If he gets lockjaw, his hand becomes sore, or a cramp in his calf from going at it for so long, it doesn't matter to him. As long as his baby was happy, he’d die for you.

Secretly, drowning in your wet pussy was his preferred way to go. 

He stretched you out until he couldn’t handle it anymore, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants. He wiped his fingers on his boxers, bummed that he couldn’t taste you but he knew that if he got a taste, he’d want more. He’s like that one mouse with the damn cookie that everyone was reading about when he was thirteen. 

He wants everything when it comes to you.

Before he knew it, he was balls deep in your cunt, your legs wrapped around his hips with him groaning softly as he gave you some shallow thrusts. “Always so fucking tight… You’re not real.” Leon whined into your neck, rabbiting into you now as he pressed into your body. He knew you liked him to be all sappy, despite always asking him to be mean to you. Call you a slut while he pulled your hair and then kiss your clit and call you his in the same breath. 

He’d kiss your clit right now if he had the time.

Maybe he’d push you in the backseat after this poor excuse of a “party”. He would much rather eat your pussy like a full-course meal rather than those sorry excuses of food those waitstaff were lugging around everywhere. 

Whore doors? Whatever you had called them in that distant car ride here. He didn’t care about them, your pussy tasted better anyways. It probably had more nutritional value, too.

All these thoughts about your pussy were starting to get him embarrassingly close. Usually, he spiraled into random thoughts not to come. Now look at him, thinking about the one thing he tries not to. Looking around was not the answer, since he saw your legs wrapped around him. He swears it’s just that he was already wound up so much, but if he was being honest with himself, it was just you. He whimpered with you, about to warn you about his impending orgasm when he heard the door to the bathroom open. 

He immediately snapped his hand to cover your mouth before he succumbed to the pleasure, biting his lip so hard that he was sure he broke the skin. He closed his eyes and tried his hardest not to moan as he spilled his load into you prematurely. He was internally groaning at the thought of dealing with your teasing for the rest of the night. He would never admit that it was the thrill of getting caught by some random guy, no. It was just because he edged himself the entire night.

Yeah… Totally…

The man thankfully just had to piss, much to the relief of both of you, and was out in a flash. Leon pulled out, rubbing your clit until you came all over his fingers. 

“You never told me you were a ‘one-pump chump’, Leon.” You teased, hooking your arm around his as the two of you inconspicuously (or at least tried to) returned to the table. 

“...S-Shut up!” 

[smileypansy]

let them nap / l.mk

pairing: mark x female!reader

synopsis: your boyfriend, Mark (and the rest of NCT) are all severely overworked, and the company does not seem to care. so you take things into your own hands

word count: 1.2k

a/n: this is an excuse to write down everything I would like to tell sm. f u sm <3 also the ceo does not get to have a name

You have been dating Mark for a year. Over the past year, you have been spending a lot more time around the SM building, usually watching rehearsals or just in Mark’s studio as he works. 

It’s no secret that NCT, and especially Mark, are overworked. Czennies have been pointing that out for years, and the company has done nothing but add on to their busy schedules.

Since you started dating Mark, you have made it your mission to make sure he sleeps and eats enough, which is way harder than it sounds. Getting that man to take a break is borderline impossible. He would never take a break while they were still in the middle of working, and there was no gap in their schedule for the foreseeable future.

Which is what led you to your current situation.

Sitting in the small waiting area outside of the CEO’s office. Ready to give him a piece of your mind. But keeping yourself calm enough to rationally explain your concerns about your friends. 

Of course there was a part of you that was very nervous about this whole “confrontation”, but the other part knew that he couldn’t do anything to you. He had no control over you or your life so you were safe. And he wouldn’t punish Mark for anything you said because, frankly, he makes the company a shit-ton of money. 

So many thoughts were running through your head that you almost didn’t notice the secretary standing directly in front of you.

“You can go in now.”

“Thank you,” and you made your way into the office. And it all suddenly felt way more real. 

The CEO is sitting at his desk, an entire wall of windows behind him. He is sitting with his hands folded on top of his lap, overlooking his very large and quite empty office.

“Y/N. It’s nice to see you.” “You too, sir,” you said, sitting in a chair opposite him.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

You awkwardly clear your throat. Now, actually being here, you are very unsure how to start this conversation.

“They need a break,” you suddenly blurt out, shocking yourself as well as the CEO.

He leans forward, across the desk, making direct eye contact with you, that you are determined to hold. 

“What?”

“They need a break,” you said, more sure. More steady. “NCT. They haven’t had a break in so long. They are just doing comeback after comeback. Tour after tour. Promotions after promotions. While still doing rehearsals. And recordings. And other projects. And doing that for multiple sub -units? Or solo? It’s too much. They're all overworked and exhausted. Everyone can see it. I can. I know you can. The fans can. And they have told you as much. And you have consistently ignored that. The members would never tell you this but they need some time off. So if me coming here is what it takes for you to understand then well, here I am. They all really need a nap,” You let out a deep breath after your ranting, now noticing how loud you had gotten towards the end. “Sorry,” you said, regaining your composure.

“What for?”

“Yelling.”

The CEO settled back in his chair. Sighing deeply, staring at you. “I appreciate your honesty. And I will take your concerns into consideration.”

“Thank you for your time,” you said, getting up, giving a quick bow, and leaving.

What were the odds of him actually taking what you said into consideration? It honestly seemed unlikely. But at least you tried, right?

While you were in the building, you figured you could at least pop in to see Mark.

NCT 2023 rehearsals were in full swing, so walking into the rehearsal room, you were met with a chorus of “Y/N!” coming from every member. While you made your rounds, saying hello to everyone, Mark was just sitting in the corner watching with a fond smile. Watching you interact with his members always made him feel so happy. Knowing that all the most important people in his life were all friends was his favorite feeling in the world. (Well, maybe second favorite ;))

Your eyes finally met his and you sat beside him, hugging him tight, instinctively burying your face in his neck. 

“Hey, baby,” he said. You could feel him smiling from where his cheek was placed against the top of his head. “How’s my girl today? I didn’t know you were visiting.”

“I missed you,” you said, still buried into his shoulder. You didn’t tell him about the meeting, and you had no intention to. It just felt unnecessary to get his hopes up when they would probably be crushed anyways. 

You two stayed cuddled up against each other for the remainder of their short break from rehearsal. 

“Hey lovebirds, you’re cute and everything, but we need to practice now,” Johnny said.

“You know you’re jealous, dude,” Mark retorted. Johnny’s face twisted in a weird way that showed Mark was right.

“Whatever. Let's just go.”

“You’ll wait for me, baby?” “Of course.”

About an hour later, rehearsal was over and the members were packing up getting ready to leave. Mark was standing next to you, deciding what your plans for the evening would be, when the CEO walked in. 

“Oh! Hello, sir,” Taeyong said, bowing and getting everyone’s attention. And there was a chorus of “hello”s and bows.

“Hello, boys,” he said, making sure he had everyone’s attention. “I would like to talk to you all about something,” he was met with confused looks and some muttering. “It has come to my attention that you all haven’t had an adequate break in quite a while,” he purposefully avoided meeting your eyes. “So, after some consideration, you will all have 2 full months off after current promotions end. There will be no new comebacks, no new concerts, no other projects. You all deserve some time off after all the hard work you’ve put in for years now. And I’m sorry it took so long for me to give this to you.”

“Thank you so much, sir,” Taeyong said, prompting another round of bows from the members.

With that, the CEO left the room and the members started to talk excitedly about what they would do with their time off. Mostly talks of visiting family and finally getting the sleep they’ve missed out on.

Mark had stayed quiet, watching your face. He sat back down next to you.

“I’m assuming you had something to do with this?” he said, laughing at your shocked face. “Oh come on, I know my girl better than you give me credit for.”

“Fine. I did. And just so you know, you will be taking this time off. And I will be making sure that you are not working. Are we clear?”

“Yes, maam,” he said. After a bit of watching the other members joke around with each other, he leaned back in to whisper in your ear, “I have an idea or two of something we can do with the time off,” he wiggled his eyebrows for emphasis.

“I might be open to your ideas. But first, you will be taking a nap. A very long nap.”

The pure love and adoration for you was clear on his face. “Thank you.” “For what?” “For caring. For fighting. For loving me.”

“Gross. You sap.” “I love you, my pretty girl.”

“I love you too, baby.”

[thelov3lybookworm]

You Think I Wanted This? (Part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: Another party??

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: aight so things are starting to heat uppp hehe 😏

anyways, enjoy!

The silence was more distracting than his loud complains, and Y/n didn't know what to make of that sudden knowledge as she turned the page of her textbook, trying to remember even one word she's read in the past ten minutes

If she was being honest, it scared her, the way she had begun to adore his loudness. His constant sighs, his scowls, his frowns.

Her craving for his presence scared her more than her father did, and that was a huge statement.

Now, sitting in her room in her simple sundress in front of her desk, her books open, she wished he was with her too. The silence was just too loud, the air and space too big without his looming presence.

Just as she leaned back, rubbing her face with both hands, the door opened, and in walked her ugly husband.

Not ugly.

Y/n quieted the voice as she sighed, turning to look at him as he made his way to her bed. Technically his bed too, but that was not the point.

As soon as he was settled, laying flat as he stared up at the intricately carved ceiling, Y/n turned back to her work, the medicines and herbs suddenly much more interesting.

"Do you all really do nothing all day?"

Y/n blinked, turning to look at him.

"What?"

"Do you all really just sit around on your asses doing nothing?"

Unamused, Y/n wondered if he was being serious. When she didn't reply, he turned to stare at her expectantly, and she realised that he was, in fact, not joking.

"Father handles the kingdom matters all day. Halden is usually busy with his trainings and studies, so am I. Other than the guards, everyone has something to do."

He clicked his tongue. "Being in Samara was better than this-"

The thud that echoed through the room was more satisfying than it should have been, and Y/n had to work hard to suppress her smile as Xaden turned to glare at the thick textbook she had chucked at his head.

"What is this?"

"My first year textbook. You should read that to pass the time and maybe consider shutting up."

And because she wanted him to know small remedies in case he got hurt while on a mission, but he didn't need to know that.

After all, it would be a real waste of manpower if he died because he didn't wrap an injury quickly enough or used poisonous herbs when needed. He had a very coveted signet, from what she'd heard, and he was also apparently a very good rider and warrior. The kingdom needed people like that.

And because he was very entertaining when angry.

He scoffed. "Yeah, no. I'm not reading some healer's textbook."

Y/n shrugged, picking up one of her books to continue reading. "As long as you don't irritate me, you can do whatever you want."

He was quiet, and Y/n stopped thinking about him and actually started reading when she heard the noise of paper turning.

Try as she might, she could not hide the triumphant smile blooming on her face.

It had almost been over an hour when Y/n stood, stretching her hands high above her head to relieve some of the tension in her body before tuning to Xaden, who watched her curiously.

"I forgot to tell you, but Halden is hosting a party this evening."

He groaned. "Another one?"

A small smile bloomed on her face, because no matter how she felt about him, she could relate to his lack of enthusiasm. "It won't be like the previous ones."

"Oh?"

She nodded, leaning her hip back against the desk. "Party is just a nicer, more appropriate word so no one finds out, but it is basically a revel, with too much drinking and... you know..."

His scarred eyebrow rose, skeptical. "I know... what?"

She sighed through her nose. "People will be busy... interacting."

He blinked "Interacting. Interesting. And it's allowed?"

She rolled her eyes. "Halden sends out the invitations personally, and only people he trusts get them. Those who get invited are bound to stay quiet about the whole ordeal, and as long as it does not get revealed to the general public, father does not care."

"So people partake in group activities?"

Y/n blushed, realising he had something completely different in mind. "No! I mean, I wouldn't know. I've only been to one. And usually, the lighting is so dark you cant see what others are doing. Aphrodisiacs are involved, and everywhere you look, you will find a couple or two being... intimate."

By the time Y/n finished speaking, Xaden's eyebrows had almost disappeared into his hair.

"That's..."

"Mhmm. You can probably find some good company tonight."

Instantly, his eyes hardened. "What does that mean?"

She blinked at the harsh tone, straightening. "I-"

A knock sounded through the room, interrupting her, and she glanced over as the door opened.

The maid walked in holding a tray, a teapot, two cups and a plate of small biscuits and sweets stacked onto it, balancing precariously as she made her way over to the low table in the corner of the room.

Without a word, the maid set down the tray, then glanced up at Y/n to await further instruction.

"I can handle it, thank you."

The maid nodded, and after a look at the smile Y/n gave her, turned and left, blushing.

The whole ordeal gave Y/n time to collect her thoughts, and she was grateful for it.

Y/n and Xaden, though now married, had not consumated it yet. Y/n knew the significance of it, the importance it held in the royal family. Her father had subtly hinted at it in the past few days, to which Y/n had pretended it had happened.

Sha hadn't yet talked to Xaden about it, hadn't told him that in the family, a marriage without consumation was basically a marriage annulled.

The only reason she continued lying about it was because she knew he still had feelings for General Sorrengail's youngest daughter, and maybe, just maybe, also because even though she had known the chances of her marrying for love were almost nonexistent, she still held out hope that she would only ever be intimate with someone she loved and because she wanted to be, not because of responsibility.

Y/n made her way over to the table, beginning to pour the tea into a cup when Xaden spoke up again. "What did you mean, Y/n."

She sighed, already tired of this conversation. "Just forget it, Riorson." She glanced up to meet his eyes. "Tea?"

His eyes hardened further, and he stood, his jaw clenched, a muscle feathering in his jaw. "You enjoy it."

He walked out the door without another word, slamming it behind him, not giving her a chance to do anything but spy the curious eyes of Nash as he tried to gauge what had caused this reaction.

And, even though Y/n knew that he was mad, the fact that her first year textbook was missing didn't go unnoticed by her.

Fourth Wing Taglist: @byyalady @gardenofrunar

Xaden Taglist: @sidrapotter @anniiittttaa @pirana10 @harrystylesfan2686 @artists-ally @riddlesb1tch @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @bubybubsters

YTIWT Taglist: @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @wallacewillow0773638 @sherayuki @throneofsmut

[ghcstao3]

I am back at it with sleeptalking!Soap because why not!

Anyways, Soap's sleep talking stops being so much of an issue for Ghost after a while. Part of it is he just becomes used to his lover spouting nonsense in his sleep, and the other part is because hearing Johnny talking, even while asleep, is so comforting because it means they're both alive.

Ghost just loves hearing Soap's voice at night; somewhat gruffer than normal due to his sleeping state, but still proof that they both made it another day, that Simon made it another day.

But then Soap realizes he's only ever talked in his sleep with Ghost. He's only ever gotten sleep so deep it allows him to start talking in his sleep when he's with Simon. He only ever sleeps like this when his Simon is wrapped around him because "Johnny~, you're so warm and I'm so cold~"

And it's a nice revelation for them both, despite neither sharing their sentiments about Soap's nightly one-sided conversations. So it becomes their little secret, something for them to hold and share together to remind them of how far they've come.

At least, it is that way for a while. And then the one mission happens and Soap falls asleep during exfil.

The actual exfil isn't even a one-way ticket out. They first have to spend several hours cramped in a truck with the rest of the team and their friends from Las Almas. But still, it isn't the worst and allows some recovery time before making it back to base. Soap and Ghost had spent a couple of days straight trapped in a rather awful situation, and the truck was roomy enough to allow the two to curl up together in a small corner of their own and drift off to the dull rumble of the truck.

Except Soap is the only one able to fall asleep, and judging by the way he forces himself into Ghost's side in his sleep, it's clear he was very tired indeed. So what if Ghost and Soap never actually openly addressed their relationship to Alejandro and Rudy? Ghost knew that they knew and he was too tired to do anything but wrap his arms around his sergeant.

And what no one expects, especially not Ghost, is that Soap will in fact be so tired and will fall in such a deep sleep, he begins to mumble. Incoherent mumblings at first, with a few Gaelic phrases thrown in here and there, nothing too much but still warrants confused and mildly concerned glances from Alejandro, mostly. Gaz offers at least one side-eye at the snoozing Scot, but is too tired to be concerned.

But then the one-sided conversation starts as Soap sweetly nestles further into Simon's neck. And suddenly the atmosphere inside the truck is incredibly awkward. Ghost can't even muster a dark enough glare to dissuade the others from staring; he's too busy trying not to laugh.

"No, yer wrong. Clearly's got himself a whole fuckin' bakery." Soap's first coherent sentence of the night. Not quite enough to rattle everyone, but enough to earn him a few confused glances that don't last long.

"It's nae even close. He'd out cake yer cake any day." Now that? That earned a couple of lingering, very confused stares. Even Ghost couldn't help but look down at the peacefully sleeping Soap and think 'what the fuck' to himself.

"Just admit yer jealous of me and move on, Garrick!" Soap's angry little outburst actually elicited a couple of nervous laughs from some of the others, and Ghost was extremely tempted to wake him. He only decided against it because fucking hell, even though they weren't alone and this was supposed to be their secret, Soap hadn't slept in a couple of days and he deserved such deep slumber. Besides, it's actually incredibly rare for Ghost to hear Soap address any specific person during his sleep rants. Not to mention the awkward half laugh that escaped Gaz at the mention of his name was too good to ignore.

"Yes yeh are jealous! Yer jealous cause I get all the cake!" Chaos. Gaz leaning into Price, absolutely wheezing from trying not to laugh so as to let Soap stay asleep. Alejandro dropping his head down and practically falling into Rudy's lap with a silent laugh. Price and Rudy both letting out small chuckles and snorts. And Ghost? Man's is shaking from how hard he's trying not to laugh. Why his love was arguing with his friend about cake in his dream is beyond Ghost, but by god is it hilarious.

"Yeh could just ask him, Gaz. It's nae even mah cake, it's Simon's." Soap mumbles, a frown drawing on his sleeping face. Ghost matches Gaz's wheeze as they exchange confused, yet amused glances.

"Aye, ah ken we're datin' but there's no shame in asking. I dinnae blame yeh, why'd ya think I liked him in the first place?" Everyone has mostly calmed since apparently in Soap's dream world, Simon must make some really good baked goods.

"Ah know, Gaz! It was the fuckin' thigh straps tha' got me. Just the icin' on top of the cake, yeh ken?" If Ghost wasn't so busy trying not to laugh loud and hard enough to startle Soap awake, he would've been much more concerned for Gaz. The second the statement left Soap's mouth, Gaz let out a rather inhuman wheeze as he collapsed to the floor of the truck. Alejandro is back on Rudy's lap, loud laughs only slightly muffled.

Unfortunately for them, Soap begins to stir at the sudden uptick in commotion, as Gaz remains curled on the floor laughing his ass off. Even Rudy had hidden his face in Alejandro's shoulder to hide the tears of laughter. Price attempts to check on Gaz but is laughing too hard to be effective.

And Ghost, well let's just say Soap was okay being woken up by laughter. It was genuine belly-aching laughter coming from his Ghost, his Simon, whom probably hasn't laughed so hard in his entire life. Soap, of course, is incredibly confused as to what the fuck was so funny it was making Ghost choke from laughing too hard.

"Wha's so funny?" Soap slurs, sleep still clinging to him. Ghost can only wheeze in response, hugging Soap closely in an attempt to show he does love him despite what they are laughing at. Ghost even has to remove his mask and wipe the tears that have now begun to make his eye-black run.

"Do you remember your dream, Love?" Simon asks in between giggles. Soap slowly shakes his head, as he normally did when asked this question. Ghost can only laugh again as red floods Soap's ears as he realizes he must've been talking in his sleep.

"I didn't know I wanted your cake so bad, Lt." Gaz finally manages to say, causing Alejandro to let out the most startling high pitched laugh anyone has ever heard. Ghost snorts and laughs so hard he ends up coughing again, yet Soap isn't really paying attention. He's too focused on the beautiful way Simon's face lights up with laughter, the way his cheeks redden and emphasize the scars that litter his face.

And then he processes Gaz's words, and suddenly his entire neck is red with embarrassment. He hides in Ghost's neck again, to which the elder can only keep laughing.

Safe to say, Soap is only okay with the others knowing he sleep-talks simply because it let him witness the most beautiful thing on earth: Simon Riley's full belly laugh.

(This somehow turned into laugh headcanons for the 141 and Los Vaqueros, idk how that happened??? I can make an official post about it because, as someone with a very weird laugh, it's nice to see people depict them with silly goofy laughs like normal people)

Also this was soo much longer than I originally anticipated??? Sorry??

don’t apologize!! i loved this!! soap defending his bf’s ass in his sleep is so silly

also i would love to see a laugh hcs post that would be so fun

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

hi!! i literally love ur atsv works(also the fact that you're a shifter too,,,like you're giving me so much content for my scripts <33). anyways, i was wondering if i could request an e42!miles x a felicia hardy/black cat variant(name doesn't have to by felicia hardy ofc) who's like a top art thief or something and prowler!miles meets them for the first time in the middle of a heist ?

I only watch the movies & am not really into the comics, so I don't really have an idea on the full character of felicia other than that she's a flirty cat burglar. So go wild on how you'd perceive her in earth42!

thanks!!

-🐈‍⬛

(Hello! lmao, shifting is amazing and these help my scripts and motivation also, lol. So sorry this took so long but I hope you enjoy!)

Felicia Hardy!Reader

You and Miles would have a certain dynamic

Like you guys would sorta be rivals, who could pull of better heists, missions, who gets caught least and who can go undetected and be the stealthiest

Shit like that is a competition to you two

Especially when you guys didn't even know each other

Miles heard about you on the news one day, and it seemed people thought you were pulling off better heists than the Prowler

Miles couldn't have that, no sir

So, he pulled off a bigger one, and this, rivalry began behind the masks

It was sorta entertaining, seeing how you never interacted but seemingly were so competitive

Miles was actually impressed on how you pulled off your stunts and heists

Especially if you hit somewhere big and got a lot of shit on the making

He never knew your plan, you never seemed to go somewhere personal or have connections to there

It seemed you just hit where you want and grabbed whatever was in your way

I think you guys could be great ass partners

And Miles was shocked to see that even Uncle Aaron thought so

Uncle Aaron thought you would be a good asset or you would be a good person to have to work with, not against

Miles was stubborn, of course, and don't wanna admit that he was right

Until he actually met you and came face to face with you

And not gonna lie, Miles was pretty much just staring at you

You seemed to pop up out of nowhere, just sitting on a rooftop as he busy out the door

He didn't even notice you for a minute, he was trying to flee from the cops that showed up and to be honest they got him pretty good on the side before he got to the roof

You actually reminded Miles of a black cat when he first saw you, which held true to the name people around the city gave you

You didn't help Miles out off the roof really, just wanting to see him in person to see if he held up to his name

He did, you got your answer and left with a smile

Miles couldn't help but watch you go before he had to leave himself

He told Uncle Aaron about the whole thing and his uncle laughed at him

Soon after, it seemed like you always were you the same place Miles was

Even if it wasn't a heist, even on his apartment buildings roof

He couldn't tell you were coming, or the amount of times you sat in the dark and watched as he had no idea

You have a habit or watching and sneaking up on him so much he's now looking over his shoulder

But after you guys get past that, you guys actually make a pretty good duo

Maybe crime fighting, maybe regular teens

Miles was not prepared on how flirt you wer

Sure he was shocked at how stealth and smart, but nothing could compare him for the amount of nicknames, and whispering you did to him

Or the fact you were so shameless about it all

He never got flustered, but somehow you always did that to him

He did it a fair amount back, but catch him of caught and babe it's so fun

I have nothing else so here's how you first met:

"Shit…" Miles cursed under his breath, holding his side as he stumbled out onto the roof, leaning his back against the wall.

He could hear police yelling to each other, the dogs barking as they tried to sniff him out.

Miles knew he wasn't about to be caught, he just worried on how he would get out of this without being spotted and followed back home.

Miles grimaced, hissing under his breath as he pushed off the wall, almost stumbling as he walked off to peer over the side of the roof.

Miles cringed at how many police cars say around the building, all ready for him to walk out. Like hell he would.

"Running outta luck?"

Miles almost jumped, turning around quickly in the dark. It took a moment before his eyes settled, finding a figure laying on their back, just above the roof where the door was.

You laid with your arms crossed under your head, turning slightly to look at him, almost amused and with a cat-like smile.

"How long have you been watching me?" Miles glared, but in his mind almost surprised, and impressed, at how long you sat there without him knowing.

You hummed, still smiling as you sat back up, throwing your legs over the edge.

"Since- like, May?" You offered, leaning onto your arm, throwing your head back to think.

Miles looked at you, half surprised and half shocked, trying to form what an actual sentence would mean before your eyes lit up.

You laughed at yourself quietly, knowing that's not what he meant, but loving the look of utter shock on his face.

"Yeah, sorry. Be more specific next time, sweetheart." You shook your head, hopping down from the small platform.

Miles could almost back up, but had nowhere to go, instead standing and watching silently through his mask as you walked towards him.

Your steps were quiet, calculated and almost careful, like a cat as you hummed, a look on your face he couldn't describe as you circled him.

You were looking over his suit, running your fingers on his suit, nodding to yourself as you felt the material.

Something about you made Miles unable to pull away, instead lifting his arm to give you more space as you ran your fingers around his body, stopping in front of him.

Miles was able to see the small smirk on your face, standing in front of him with your hand on the Prowler mark on his suit.

"So, how is the Prowler is stuck on a rooftop with cops around?" You laughed, looking up at him with the same smile.

"Not stuck." Miles denied, not looking away from you as you leaned in, getting a closer look at his mask.

"Oh, then poor you." You mocked, thumbing over his mask, as he surprisingly, didn't say anything about it.

"Why are you here?" Miles finally asked, getting another small laugh from you as you glanced into his eyes.

"Wanted to see if you were the real deal." You shrugged, your face close to his.

"Got what you wanted?" Miles asked, his voice cool and calm, sorta distorted through the mask, but watching perfectly as your hand slipped down.

You looked back into his eyes through the mask, studying almost carefully before you hummed, stepping back.

"Yup. Certainly." You laughed, standing on the edge as you held up a bag. One of the bags Miles had robbed.

Miles patted around his body, feeling one missing from his pockets, looking up to see you with a hand on your hip, holding it out teasingly.

Though it was Miles, he couldn't find it to reach out and take it, instead watching your proud smirk.

"Seems you were too distracted to know." You teased before Miles could say anything else, tucking the bag into your pockets.

"See ya around, Miles."

And with a final wink, you stepped off the ledge, leaving a stunned Miles in your wake.

"Hey- wait!" Miles yelled out, seeing you disappear as he hurried towards the edge, looking down and being shocked as he saw you nowhere around.

He could hear your laugh echoing around him, the bag missing from his side gone with you.

And, you called him Miles.

You were watching him for a while, for too long, and you knew too much.

Miles couldn't wrap his head around it, shaking his head as he thought over every second you stood in front of him, every moment leading up to this.

And the fact he never knew. Never knew you were there. Never knew you were watching.

Miles couldn't help but chuckle, impressed and shocked, looking around the dark for any sign of you, not that he would find it.

He needed to leave, he knew that, but maybe he could add one more thing to his list of shit to do.

From the way he could still feel your fingertips running along his body, the way you hummed, smiled or laughed, and the way you said his name,

Miles couldn't help but want to see you again

[jqmalikhsgib]

beauty and the freak

two

when everyone was asleep eddie made it his mission to stay up. he knew you would still be up on your phone scrolling through instagram.

he would wait for you to go downstairs before making his own move. when he heard your bedroom door open he waited patiently before sneaking out of the guest bedroom and heading downstairs himself.

he smirks, you turned away from him. he creeps behind you and gently whispers in your ear. “so, heard you thought i was good in bed princess.”

your whole entire body stilled. you weren’t scared, you were however startled. eddie gently kissed your shoulder.

“i could show you just how good i am. would you like that baby?” he whispers in your ear. he loved seeing you squirm a bit. it was a turn on for him. knowing he had this affect on you with just barely touching you.

“come on baby, don’t get all shy on me now. tell me if you want me to show you? tell me what you want exactly princess?”

you turned your body. he was so close to you, so beautiful, so sexy! you could never understand how people didn’t find him absolutely attractive. he had the whole nerdy bad boy exterior going on, he was in a band, and he was the kindest guy you’ve known. eddie was the kind of guy girls should go after.

you knew he’d treat you right. showing you off and giving you princess treatment, like you deserved! making you feel loved and appreciated. but when doors were closed he’d fuck you like you were just his personal fuck toy. that’s the man you wanted—needed!

“we—what about my friends? what about steve?”

eddie smirks once more. he gently wraps his hands around your neck, squeezing the sides of it. you moan just from the feeling.

“gonna fuck you nice and slow tonight, then, next time, ill fuck you hard and rough. make sure everyone knows you’re mine!”

and he did just that. he made you cum a total of three times that night. the next day he took you to his place and fucked you until your knees gave out.

from that moment the two of you dated in hiding. it was eddies idea. he wasn’t ashamed of you and knew you weren’t ashamed of him. eddie was just the kind of guy that didn’t like people in his personal business.

but after three months of dating you wanted everyone to know. this caused a lot of arguments between the two of you!

you wouldn’t tell him but you secretly liked fighting! afterwards he’d put you back in your place! making sure you knew better than to talk to him like that.

“don’t you ever speak to me like that again! understand?!” and you did. but it didn’t stop you from doing it over and over and over again.

eddie was the only man that could tame you. hell, he was the only person that could keep you in check! everyone else got bitchy, grouchy, bratty yn. he loved that.

it’s why he was ready for people to know. after four months he was ready to tell his friends about you.

they were starting to know a change in his behavior. constantly asking him questions. he was getting sick of it!

he also hated seeing other guys flirt with you during lunch. jason and his dumbass crew trying to get their paws on you. it angered him to no end.

sometimes you’d play along. he knew you were just trying to make him jealous! he just couldn’t help it though.

eddie knew you were the hottest girl in this school. but that doesn’t give others the right to touch something that didn’t belong to them, and you belonged to him! every inch of your beautiful body belonged to him.

and the night he decided enough was enough was when some jock named tim was a little too close to you for his liking. whispering something he sure was stupid in your ear.

when he saw you staring you played along, giggling at him. he could tell it was one of your fake laughs.

gareth was currently going on about something. he didn’t even pretend to listen to him. his anger, possessiveness, and jealousy was getting the better of him.

“eds, are you even listening?”

right at that moment is when tim thought it was a good idea to kiss your cheek. eddie stood up, walking towards your table.

jason stood in his way. “what are you doing here, freak?!”

eddie pushes him out the way and grabs your arm. the whole table looks at him as if he just murdered you in front of everyone.

“get your paws off her psycho?!”

eddie smirks. he turns you around to face all of your friends. “wanna tell em? tell him how your fantasy came true, huh? or should i just fuck you right here in front of the whole school?”

you didn’t break eye contact with your group of friends. smiling because you finally got him jealous enough to tell the whole school you were dating.

“maybe you should. show them who i belong to, babe!” and he did. spinning you around once more and kissing you like his life depended on it.

when you both finally pulled away to catch your breath he whispers in your ear to go sit back down with a promise of a punishment later.

he looks at jason and the other dumb fucks who follow him around before speaking. “if i see any of you goons touching my property, i will not hesitate to fuck you up. that goes for the rest of you fucktards in this school. yn belongs to me!”

you couldn’t help but smirk. the rest of that day was filled with questions. mostly asking you why you’d fuck the freak. but your answer was simply the same each time,

“why not?!”

from then on everyone left it alone. and as a year goes by, you and eddie’s relationship remains strong and still a mystery to the whole school population.

alright the first two chapters were just an introduction to their relationship. now we get on with their dynamic!!!

im excited to write this one.

if you wanna be added or unadded to my taglist please let me know. if you wanna be added to every single one of my eddie fics please tell me <3

taglist:

@lov3withurgency @sunshineandwitchery @melaninjhs @baileebear @am0iur

[vivalas-vega]

Oooh my, your requests are freaking open???? I've got an idea in my head for a long time and now I give it a try and send it to you. I'm obsessed with Jake (and Bradley) x Roomie (fem reader or oc) trope, so apologies in advance for this one (also a sucker for hurt and comfort 😬). I try to keep it as short as possible: Rooster's and Hangman's new roomie has a sad past. She has sleeping issues and bad nightmares. They hear her whimpering and crying in her sleep. The guys are worried but she plays it down, feeling bad for waking them up with her shit. Maybe she starts to sleep walking and unfortunately hurts herself during this episode. The guys find her in the middle if the night hurt. And she opens up to them telling them about her dreams and her past.

ahhhh !!! I'm so glad to finally get this one posted, I'm so sorry it took so long ! I am such a sucker for the roommate trope, and I love writing stories that are strictly platonic, just focusing on lovely friendship vibes bc those are just as important as the romantic ones !!! I hope you enjoy!

(this doesn't have a title yet bc it's admittedly the thing I'm the worst at when it comes to writing fics)

word count: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, some suggestive humor, language, brief and vague mentions of death, lmk if I missed any

“Are you going to eat these leftovers?” you asked Bradley, who was sitting at the kitchen island keeping you company as you cleaned out the fridge and he stared at the tupperware container for an infuriatingly long time, contemplating his options before you let out an exasperated sigh. “Bradshaw, it’s pasta. Yes or no?”

“No,” he finally answered. “You’re in a mood.” 

“No mood, it would just be nice if you could be snappier in your responses while you just watch me clean the kitchen.”

“Yeah, definitely not in a mood,” he muttered under his breath but you heard it anyway. “Do you know where Hangman is?”

“You two share a bathroom and you still can’t call him by his name?” you asked with a chuckle. “He’s at the gym, should be back soon.”

“We only share a bathroom because you got the master,” he protested and you laughed again.

“I needed the bigger closet,” you shrugged. “I told you you’re welcome to use mine anytime.”

“After you reamed me for using your face wash? Thank you, but no thank you, I haven’t been yelled at like that since I borrowed my moms car to take Cindy Daniels on a date.”

“I only yelled because you used a forty dollar cleanser as body wash and somehow managed to use half the bottle. Besides, your mom was right to yell at you too, you stole her car and you were thirteen.”

“I was covered in grease! And my date with Cindy is none of your business.” 

“Are we having the face wash fight again?” Jake asked as he came in through the garage, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he reached around you to grab a bottle of water, but you only pushed him away, muttering something about keeping his sweat away from you. “Take the blame, Chicken, you wasted half a bottle of Drunk Elephant, you’re lucky she didn’t put you on the porch for the night.”

“See, the craziest thing about this whole situation is you were just as outraged as she was.”

“Good skincare is not just for women, you might want to invest in a routine of your own.” he smirked before disappearing down the hallway and you heard the sound of the shower turning on.

“You working tomorrow?” Bradley asked, getting up to wash the containers you’d placed near the sink.

You shook your head, “a Friday and Saturday off, Penny was feeling extra generous.” You’d met the two of them, along with the rest of the team, when they’d first gotten to town for the infamous and secretive mission that almost claimed the life of the man currently donning cherry-printed cleaning gloves and scrubbing pasta sauce out of tupperware. You’d all become fast friends, they’d coax you out from behind the bar on your breaks or when your shift was over for darts or pool, and when your lease was up just as they received word of a permanent assignment it seemed to make sense for the three of you to find a place together. It was a godsend for you, it got you out of your cramped apartment with dismal lighting and into a beautiful craftsman only a few blocks away from the beach. Even with arguments with Bradley about face wash and a sweaty Jake, it was a no-brainer.

“Could we convince you into coming to your place of work on a night off? These new recruits are testing our patience, Phoenix wants a fun night out to blow off steam.”

“I could potentially be persuaded,” you replied, shutting the fridge after deeming it was as cleared out as it was going to get. 

“Which translates to as long as I’m not mixing them, I’ll always show up for drinks,” Jake said, walking back into the kitchen with freshly washed hair. “Do I get any kind of welcome home now that I’m not sweaty?” 

“No, because now you’re wet, did you even dry off?” you asked, snapping him with a dish towel before he rounded the island and wrapped his arms around you.

“Enough,” he answered, squeezing you tight as you pretended to hate it. Really, you loved living with these two. Being on your own before was starting to take its toll on you, and they reminded you of a different time in your life, one that felt like it was ancient history. “Not to dampen the mood, but… we did want to talk to you about something.”

“Sounds serious, should I break out the house meeting wine?” you asked, eyeing them skeptically as they shared a look with each other that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“We just wanted to… check in,” Bradley started and you raised your eyebrows. “The past few weeks we’ve heard certain sounds coming from your room and-”

“Okay, first of all,-” you started to cut him off, eyes wide at what you thought he was insinuating.

“Not like that, sweetheart,” Jake interjected. “But feel free to get louder when you do,” he half-joked and you hit him with the towel again. “What bird boy is trying to say is sometimes we hear what sounds like nightmares coming from your room and it’s happened enough that we just want to check in and see if everything is okay.” You suddenly felt nauseous. 

“If there’s something going on, or you need someone to talk to, you know we’re here, right?” Bradley asked and you nodded softly.

“I know, everything is fine, I’m sorry if I woke you.” you said, trying to dismiss their concerns altogether as you occupied yourself with looking over the mail.

“It’s just… it doesn’t sound fine, if you don’t want to talk to us we can help you find someone else to talk to, we just want to make sure you’re okay.” Jake tried and you gave him a forced smile.

“And I am, but I’m glad the two of you finally found something to agree on.” You tossed some junk mail in the garbage before turning to face them again, “I have some errands I want to run early tomorrow morning… text me if you need anything from the store but I’m going to turn in. Goodnight,” you said with another forced smile before heading down the hall and letting out a sigh as your back pressed against your closed bedroom door. You thought that things had gotten better… that enough time had passed. They seemed to be happening less and less, but maybe that wasn’t as true as you once thought. 

Your footsteps down the hallway were an unusual sound for this time of night… nightmares or not, once you went to bed you weren’t seen until the following morning and it was enough to stir Jake from his slumber. You on the other hand, were completely unaware of what was going on, still stuck in a dream, stuck in a fluorescent lit hallway with tears streaming down your face only you weren’t… you were in your living room, walking straight into the console table and falling onto the broken glass of the picture frames and vases you’d knocked over which was enough to jolt both of them out of bed. 

“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Bradley asked, crouching down beside you as you came to.

“Mav- Maverick?” you asked, voice hoarse as you struggled to place where you were, the images from your dream still fresh in your mind. He looked at Jake confused who was on the other side of you and carefully pushing glass aside.

“No, it’s Bradley… Honey, what happened?” You blinked a few times, finally recognizing you were on the floor of your living room and the searing pain of broken glass in your palms and knees.

“I don’t- oh my god. I’m so sorry,” you winced as you tried to stand but Jake was quick to scoop you up, holding you tight as he walked to the kitchen and carefully placed you next to the sink while Bradley grabbed the first aid kit. “I- I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m okay, you can go back to bed.” He just frowned at you and when Bradley returned he started pulling the shards from your palms while Jake worked on your knees. Silent tears were still streaming down your face and they were both trying to figure out how to ask you what was wrong, but one thing they knew for certain was no one was going back to bed until they got to the bottom of what was going on with you.

“Sweetheart, do you want to tell us what’s going on?” Jake asked softly, looking up briefly to meet your eyes before gently running his thumb along your cuts, making sure there weren’t any pieces he missed. 

You shook your head as you wiped your cheeks, “nothing, I just… I don’t know, I guess I was half-asleep? I’m really sorry I woke you,” you said and they both looked at you like they didn’t believe a word of it.

“Alright, I was willing to maybe let it go before but you could have been seriously hurt tonight. Something is going on with you,” Jake said, voice firm as he stopped what he was doing to wipe a few of your tears.

“Whatever it is, you can tell us. Why did you say Maverick’s name when you woke up?” Bradley asked and you closed your eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath before letting it all out. 

“I uh… there’s something I never told you about me.” you started, taking a moment to breathe as you felt your throat tighten. They stayed quiet, both carefully dabbing at your cuts with a damp cloth or rubbing aquaphor over them before bandaging them. “I wasn’t a teacher before realizing I liked bartending more, I was a pilot.”

“Wait, what?” Bradley asked, shock evident in his tone and Jake elbowed him, eyes silently pleading for you to continue. 

“My callsign is- or was Flash… like the superhero,” you chuckled but there wasn’t much humor in it and both of their eyes widened. “I was on a mission that went south really fast,  we were outnumbered and outgunned, we ran out of resources quickly. I was hit, and I couldn’t… I couldn’t save it, I couldn’t save him.” you choked out.

“Who?” Bradley whispered, you were all cleaned up now and they were both focused solely on you. Jake was rubbing reassuring circles on your thigh as Bradley held one of your hands in his own.

“My wizzo, we called him Genie… we both got to our squad at the same time, and on our first night out his icebreaker was if you had three wishes, what would you wish for?” You laughed again, but this time it was genuine.

“I’ve heard of him,” Jake said, noticing your breathing quicken just at the mention of him. “Both of you, actually, from what I’ve heard you were a hell of a pilot.”

“He couldn’t eject, something went wrong with the handles… I’d already pulled mine when I heard him say they were stuck and the next thing I know the jet is crashing into a hillside below me. I thought the dreams were getting better, and that I was maybe starting to move past it… I don’t think I really registered that it was happening again, or maybe that it never stopped.” 

“Honey, why didn’t you tell us this sooner?” Bradley asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear and you focused your gaze on your hands.

“I just… I didn’t want you to know that I failed my wizzo,” you choked out. “Or that the last time I was in a cockpit I nearly crashed again and Mav had to talk me through landing a plane I’ve landed thousands of times before because I panicked. I didn’t want you guys to censor yourselves when it came to work stuff out of pity for me being a failed pilot, and I guess… I just didn’t want you guys to look at me differently.”

“Hey, what happened wasn’t your fault,” Jake said, squeezing your thigh gently and prompting you to look up at him. “And we would never look at you differently for that, we understand.”

“I’m so sorry you went through that… and just know that we don’t think of you as a failure. We’ve both heard about that mission, there was nothing you could have done. Faulty equipment and being outgunned is not your burden to bear.” Bradley added, running a hand along your back.

“What is it that you say sometimes? It’s not the plane, it’s the pilot?” you asked, sadness seeping into your tone and he just pulled you into his side and pressed a kiss to your head.

“There’s not much the pilot can do if the plane fails them.”

“You went through a trauma, we would never fault you for not flying again after that.” Jake said and you smiled softly.

“Mav could… god, he tried so hard, he was really there for me after it happened, but… when I finally got back into a plane I just couldn’t shake it. It was like I could still hear him in my backseat even though he wasn’t there.”

��Just because Mav could, that doesn’t mean you’re a lesser pilot or a lesser person for not being able to, if anything I think it makes you stronger. You knew your limits, and instead of pushing through it when you couldn’t trust flying again you took a step back. I know a lot of people who wouldn’t make that same choice.” Bradley said, nudging Jake and you let out a laugh as you wiped your face again.

“Yeah, I thank my lucky stars I never crossed this one’s path when I was still flying,” you said and Jake’s face twisted up in shock.

“Hey, why are we ganging up on me now?” he asked and you laughed again. 

“You make it so easy,” you teased and they both smiled, happy to see you coming back into yourself a little.

“We’re here for you, okay? So is everyone else,” Bradley said, pulling you into him again and you let yourself wrap your arms around him as you laid your head on his chest and Jake kept rubbing circles into your skin.

“No matter what, you can always come wake us up if you need someone.”

“I love you guys, you know that?” 

You could hear the smirk in Jake’s voice as he said, “oh, we know.” He wrapped himself around the other side of you as the two of them squished you between them. “We love you too.”

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