Bruno, singing: Got a lot of apologies I’ve got to say-
Julieta: Hey. (She hugs him.)
Julieta, singing: We’re just happy that you’re here, okay?
Pepa, singing: Come into the light-
Augustín, singing: (Hugs them all.) The triplets all reunite-
Julieta, singing: And no matter what happens-
Julieta, Augustín, and Pepa, singing: We’re gonna find our way!
HE’S STILL TRYING TO PROTEST AND APOLOGIZE EVEN AS HE’S BEING HUGGED BY HIS SISTERS AND THEIR HUSBANDS (yeah okay I know Félix wasn’t shown in the hug but come on you can’t tell me this man isn’t a hugger)
Heyy! Can you do one where Osamu, kuroo, akaashi and Tsukishima, say something mean to their s/o and their s/o avoids them for days? When they finally get ahold of their s/o, their s/o just sorta cries because it hit their insecure spot? Fluff in the end🥺
Listen, I can’t not write this.
- the one in which they accidentally make you give them the silent treatment because of their lashing out. -
~ Osamu Miya, Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji, and Tsukishima Kei~
TW: Cursing, angst to fluff, timeskip! for Osamu,
“Those are important files, ya know?”
“Samu, I’m sorry. You should’ve told me you needed last month’s earnings and I would’ve looked for them before we came this morning.” The hand you tried to settle onto Osamu’s bicep was shaken off as your movements faltered.
Your voice wobbled at the sight of your stoic fiance, an annoyed glint in his eye as he rummages through his files. Osamu felt a flare in his stomach, a lack of sleep contributing to his impatient state. The day had been a busy one, Osamu deciding that he needed this particular file for his business call tomorrow before the two of you headed home for the night.
“I told ya not to move anything back to the place.”
“I didn’t.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “Here, just let me help-”
“Don’t touch a goddamn thing, I’ll do it myself.” There it was. The lashing out that was bound to happen occurred with a pointed tongue as he refused to look at you, rummaging through his file cabinets. “As I do everything else.”
He closes the cabinet sharply. “The least ya could do is try your best not to be a nuisance-”
Osamu flinches at the slam of one of the office desk drawers, chest sinking when he sees the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. The paper he needed is thrown on the desk carelessly as you shove your jacket on, wetness slipping down your cheeks.
“And I’m not your goddamn secretary. I’m heading home first.”
“And don’t worry, I promise I’ll manage to do this by myself somehow.” Your voice cracks bitterly, the bell by the door jingling mockingly in Osamu’s ears as you exit, the chef hanging his head with a sigh and regret tinging his chest.
He was wrong to pray this would blow over, not expecting to wake without your warmth by his side. You avoided him on the way to the restaurant, cleaning quietly while giving vague answers to his questions, shifting out of his attempts to embrace you with apologies.
Deciding to give you space, he softly tells you to take the next few days off, unprepared for the tired look you had given him, simply nodding in response as you slipped into your side of the bed with your back turned to him.
“Where’s your pretty girlfriend?”
“Fiance.” Osamu forces a smile at his two elderly regulars two days later, the wife’s smile widening at his correction.
“Oho! Cherish each other while you youths still can, she really does brighten this place up, doesn’t she?”
Osamu’s eyes feel hot as he does a messy job of cleaning up the restaurant, closing up shop early and stopping by your favorite bakery to pick up the ridiculously expensive cake he only ever buys for your birthday.
Throwing the door open to your shared apartment hastily, you gasp at the gray-haired man’s sudden entry, dropping the spoon you were about to use to taste the dish you were making on the stove.
“Samu, y-you’re home early-”
“What’s all this?” He tries to steady his breaths at the sight of a nicely prepared table, something you hardly ever got to share ever since the night shifts overtook your lives and caused a rift between the two of you.
You’re silent for a second, looking away from his warm stare as you shift under his gaze.
“...I miss you.” Dark eyes widen when you begin to hiccup over your words, tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. “But I didn’t wanna be a nusciance-”
“Oh god, darlin’ no.” You’re pulled tightly into his chest as you cry, whole body shaking with tremors as Osamu’s inner turmoil merely increases.
If Osamu could go back in time and punch himself he would, unknowing of the torment he caused you over the past few days, thinking you just needed space.
“I want to marry ya Y/N, I’m so sorry.”
“I love you so much Samu.” You sniffle into his chest, causing him to smile softly, a hand sifting through your hair to hold you tighter to him.
“I brought cake.”
You laugh through the onslaught of tears.
“And I made dinner.”
“Then what are we waitin’ for?”
“Just hold me like this for awhile?”
“Y/N.” He kisses the top of your head, finally feeling at ease with your figure in his arms. Osamu whispers a confession he hardly shared with you, wanting those words in particular to be special as he bridged the gap between the two of you.
“I love ya so much more, don’t you go forgettin’ it.”
“I said I was sorry!”
“Is sorry supposed to just fix everything, Tetsurou?”
“Tetsurou? Are you seriously withholding me from my nickname privileges?”
You cross your arms at his attempt to make you laugh, thoroughly angry with the mess your boyfriend made of things as his smile fades at your peeved stare.
“Look, what was I supposed to do?”
“How about not leaving my parents waiting for you at the restaurant that you invited them to for another one of your spontaneous volleyball practices?”
“I texted you I had to cancel!”
“That was a half hour before we were supposed to meet, Kuroo! They were so excited to meet you they got there early. God, why can’t you ever take things seriously?”
“You’re right.” A bitter chuckle slips Kuroo’s lips as you falter at the sudden tone change, the volleyball gym seeming bigger than ever as his next sentence makes your lips tremble.
“Since I can’t ever take things seriously, then I must not need my serious girlfriend then, right?” Your eyes widen. “I can just find somebody else who won’t fucking hound me all the time.”
His cat-like eyes widen as the words slip his tongue, unintentionally coming out crueler than he intended. To make it worse, you simply stayed silent, your body physically backing down and away from him as you turned on your heel.
“Wait, I didn’t-”
“Do it then.” His chest just about shatters as your shoulders tremble, refusing to turn back around as your voice takes on an uncharasterically defeated tone. “I hope they make you fucking happy.”
Kuroo runs a hand through his raven hair frustratedly at the way you rushed out of the gym, throwing a stray ball so hard at the wall before his vision becomes skewed with heat.
He should have expected the next week to be utter hell. You left class before he could catch you by escaping to the bathroom with all your things, leaving school another way instead of the exit you always took together before he had to start club activities.
“Kenma, what are you doing?”
“You can’t come in here.”
“I’m missing class for this. Let me through.”
“She doesn’t want to see you.” Kenma shrugged, eyes on his handheld. “I told her I’d watch the door so you can’t surprise her during our breaktime.”
“I’m her boyfriend. And you’re not her guarddog.”
“No, I’m her friend.” Kenma’s eyes narrow at his childhood friend. “And last time I checked, you’re on the search for someone who isn’t her.”
“So she told you.”
“Dick move, by the way.”
Kuroo’s calls go straight to voicemail, his emotions affecting his playing with each passing day. He leaves little notes in your shoe locker to meet him, heart sinking more and more with every time you stood him up.
And it wasn’t until he saw you smiling again at a joke Yaku made that he truly felt like he was losing you.
The sight wasn’t one you were expecting to see, Kuroo sitting on the steps to your house with his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets, the dark bags under his eyes sparking worry within you.
“It’s probably better if my parents don’t see you-”
“I’m sorry.” His eyes seem to have lost a little of their glint, regret swimming in the tall boy’s pupils as your guard softens. “I’m so goddamn sorry I ran my mouth and said shit I didn’t even mean-”
“And I hurt you in the process. I hurt the one thing that matters to me the most, and I’m sitting here playing the creepy ex that stalks the girl he loves-”
“You love me?”
“Doesn’t matter, does it? You’re done with me, and I deserve it-”
He’s cut off with the sight of tears hitting the wood in front of him, lifting his head to see tears streaking down your cheeks. On instinct, he reaches out softly, rising to his feet to cup your cheek, astonished when you curl into his touch.
“I’m so fucking mad at you right now.”
“Noted.” Kuroo laughs somberly, a wave of emotion hitting him as you do something you hadn’t done in days.
You look him in the eye, tugging him closer by the sides of his jacket.
“But I love you too, you absolute idiot.”
Kuroo grins into the kiss you press onto his lips, heart lifting in weight as he pulls you closer.
“Does this mean we can go back to Tetsu?”
“I’m going back to ignoring you-”
“No.” Kuroo’s tone turns serious as he holds you a little tighter. “I can’t do that again.”
You smile as he presses a kiss to your temple lovingly.
“Being away from you was complete and utter hell, sweetheart.”
“Tell me how to make this right.”
“Right, Y/N.” Akaashi refused to meet your eyes as he loosens his school tie, not slowing his pace for you to catch up with as he throws the doors open to the volleyball club. The usually put-together setter had an angry glint in his eye that silenced his awaiting teammates. “Let’s just go back in time before you agreed to be his partner.”
“Hey hey, what’s going on you two?” Bokuto jogs up, his worried tone making your lips tremble even more at the sight of Akaashi’s turned back.
“I came to you as soon as he made a move! I didn’t let him-”
“There shouldn’t have been an opportunity for him to make a move in the first place.” Akaashi’s jaw clenched as you shuffle in place.
“I didn’t do anything wrong, you think I wanted him to try to kiss me?!” You fight the waver in your voice, standing your ground. “It was a project for class. I didn’t know his intentions-“
“I told you what his intentions were, but you never listen.” Akaashi turns hastily, startling you and causing you to stumble slightly backwards into Bokuto.
“Stop defending her. She never listens to me, and then comes crying to me when it turns out I’m right.” Akaashi snips at his best friend, ignoring the silent stares from his quiet teammates. “Why can’t you get it through your head, Y/N? I’m not your goddamn babysitter-“
“You’re right.” You interrupt, fingernails biting into your palms as you choke back a sob. “You’re not, you’re my boyfriend. I just wanted to respect you by coming to you with something like this, but it turns out I’m just a hinderance.”
Akaashi falters for a second, blue eyes widening a fraction at the angry heat that fills your eyes as regret begins to bubble in his stomach at his harsh words.
“Give me some space, Keiji.” You say softly, patting Bokuto’s arm to let you through as your shoulders sink in a defeated manner. “I promise I won’t come crying to you about anything else.”
Your steps echo as you walk out of the gym, Konoha breaking the silence first when the door shuts behind you.
“Hate to say it, but that was well-deserved, man.”
Akaashi closes his eyes, head falling back towards the ceiling as he tries to steady his breathing, pretending like he wasn’t scared of you slipping through his fingers. He willed himself to not allow himself to chase after you, his anger directed towards you fading as he forces himself to respect your wishes.
It was obvious you were avoiding him. Akaashi had blinked when Bokuto had self-proclaimed that he needed you as his “study buddy” during breaks when you weren’t even in the same year as the owlish boy. It got worse when you seemed to panic when Akaashi willed you to talk to him, eyes refusing to meet his watery blue ones as you pushed him further away.
So he gave you your space, wilting with each passing day. It wasn’t until he accidentally bumped into you a week later, the setter turning hastily on his heel to walk in the opposite direction before a soft tug on the back of his school shirt wills him to stop.
“Keiji.” Your wobbly voice makes him turn back around immediately, a soft palm already cupping your cheek gently. “I’m s-”
“I’m sorry for being cruel.” The words are whispered against your forehead, Akaashi’s heartstrings tugging in the worst way possible. “I was angry at the situation, my love. And that sorry excuse you call a classmate. Please,”
His grip tightens just a little more as he feels wet warmth drip into the palm that was cupping your face.
“I told you I wouldn’t come crying to you-”
“I want it all, Y/N.” Akaashi pulls back slightly, voice cracking slightly as blue stares intensely into your irises. “I want all of you. Tears included.”
You swat his chest playfully as Akaashi manages a soft smile, hand threaded through your hair as he presses you against his chest.
“Do you still need space?” He murmurs, and you smile at the sound of his hearbeat picking up as he awaited your answer fearfully.
“Nope. The exact opposite, please hold me?”
His embrace relaxes immediately, and your heart skips a beat at the sound of his relieved sigh, his slight nod making the weight lift off your chest.
“Good, now I can take care of your classmate-”
“Nope, my love.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, Akaashi’s eyes swirling with devotion.
“No one gets to try anything with you so long as you’re safe with me.”
“So I’m the bad guy again.”
“Do you want the honest answer, Kei?” You exhaustedly run a hand through your hair as Tsukishima’s scowl deepens, his long legs easily catching up with you in stride as he tugs on your wrist as the rambunctious court gets further and further away.
“It’s not my fault you’re insecure.”
You flinch. “Well maybe you shouldn’t let the girls in the stands cling to you after your matches. They were all over you, Tsukki! And you didn’t seem to mind it one bit.”
“What?” Annoyance brims the blonde’s voice as he takes another step forward, clenching his jaw when he sees the quiver in your lip, distrust filling the atmosphere between the two of you.
“Afraid that they’re prettier or better than you’ll ever be?”
You feel as if the wind was knocked out of your lungs, breath catching in your throat at his insinuation. His guard slackens almost immediately, clicking his tongue before turning away, too proud to apologize for the words he regretted as soon as they slipped his tongue like venom.
“Yeah.” You laugh humorlessly, making brown eyes dart over to your expression immediately. “You’re 100% correct. I am afraid you’ll find someone better than me in all aspects. Because I love you, you absolute asshole. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
The silence that befalls the two of you in the deserted hall is broken when you flinch away when Tsukishima tries to take a step towards you.
“You never mean to do anything, Kei.” You say in a hushed tone, turning your back on him in an attempt to shield the hot tears slipping down your cheeks. “But you somehow always manage to.”
The win for Karasuno didn’t mean much to the blonde that night, hoping that this would just go away and things would be back to normal. However, it was anything but. You didn’t look his way once in class, disappearing when it was over. Your voice trembled as you had avoided his seemingly stoic eyes through his frames, simply stating that you wished for some time away from him.
He was fine. Or at least pretending to be on the outside. In truth, he would never find better, because you were it for him, words that you would never catch slipping his mouth. So he put on a front, pretending that your absence had zero effect on him whatsoever. Pretending the brush of your body against him in the hall as you pass each other didn’t make the blonde want to cave.
It was the smile you shot at Hinata during one of your breaks that caused him to. The first glint in your eye in awhile, and it had been caused by him of all people, prompting the tall middle blocker to tug you by the forearm into the corridor.
“I hate this.”
You falter for a second, guard back up in a flash as your back touches the wall. “What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything, and it’s pissing me off.”
“I don’t follow-”
“I was wrong.” His forehead touches your shoulder as you stiffen before relaxing against his familiar touch. “I don’t care how many times I have to apologize. You win, okay? I’m sorry.”
“This is a rather aggressive apology-”
“Y/N.” Tsukishima lifts his head so it’s level with your height, unprepared for the way tears brimmed your eyes at the proximity, your guard diminishing.
“What if you do find someone better one day, Tsukki?” Your voice cracks, inner fears trickling to the surface. “Do I need to prepare myself to lose you-?”
You gasp as Tsukishima’s jaw ticks before kissing you intensely, his hand touching your lower back to pull you closer.
“No. You don’t need to do something stupid like that.” His eyes were slightly glaring at you, a flush across both his cheeks. “Because there is no one better than you, okay?”
It was your turn for heat to flood your cheeks as your eyes widen a fraction, his breath tickling your ear as you stutter. “Kei-”
“I love you too. I said it, are you satisfied now?”
General works: @takemetovalhalla @faesbae @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046 @let-me-have-my-own-name @deadontheinsidebut @lifeisntjustblackandwhite @curiouslilbeast @aprettyfruit @wisepandaslimeland @h0ngh0ngh0ng @lmkjimin @orangegiraffe7 @dai-tsukki-desu @kac-chowsballs @spikertrash @yamaguwuchi @lord-suneater-explosion @holaaaf @babyybokutoakaashi @lexysclubhouse @disneyloving-muggle @kuuuuroo @theonep1ece @that-chick212 @mjoork
| loki x reader | fluff |
anon requested. loki kinda degraded sub!reader and she scrunches up all tiny and sobs afterwards because she thought he meant what he said
cw: slightly smutty, slightly angsty
You begged Loki to let you come, fighting against the magical restraints your dom had placed around your wrists and ankles.
“Oh, you want to come so bad you’re crying? You desperate, pathetic whore. You’re so fucking filthy, have you no shame?” Loki sneered, the words sending arousal pooling deep in your belly, even though you fought against it. Your body jolted at the slap administered to your inner thigh, a pained cry escaping your lips.
You’d been acting up and testing Loki’s patience, which is what earned you this punishment, your pleasure being dangled in front of you, just out of reach. You’d broken his rules, and he’d had enough of your attitude.
“Come now before I change my mind,” Loki’s tone was dangerous, and the pressure inside of you shattered. He followed your lead, finishing inside of you before he pulled out and made the restraints vanish.
As the pleasure wore off, his words echoing in your mind, You desperate, pathetic whore. You’re so fucking filthy, have you no shame?
Loki stood off of the bed, going to run you a hot shower. As soon as he’d stepped away, a sob tore through your chest, your shoulders heaving as you cried. You curled up in a ball, feeling small and alone on his massive bed.
Loki heard you crying, and he felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. He abandoned the shower and ran to your side, kneeling down on the bed. You looked so tiny and fragile, folding in on yourself. His chest ached when he heard your soft sounds and saw the way your hands trembled as you tugged at your hair, trying to self-soothe. He reached out to pull your hands away, wanting to keep you from anxiously tearing the hair from your sensitive head.
“My darling-” his voice cracked when you jerked away from him. You hiccuped on your broken sobs as they wrecked you, emotion flooding every last thought and turning you into a mess.
Loki’s magic sparked around you, cleaning you up and leaving you both in loose clothing. The green shimmer surrounded you, Loki’s fruitless attempt to touch you without frightening you. It was warm, and seemed to buzz with its own life, but didn’t make you feel any better.
“My darling, have I hurt you? Tell me whatever is wrong so that I may fix it,” Loki begged, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms.
“Don’t touch me, please,” you tried to catch your breath, wanting to get your keys and leave.
He sank back, giving you space. His eyes were concerned and sad, and he fought against the urge to pierce into your mind, ripping the truth from you. The door vanished from the wall as you tried to run out, and you whipped around to face the god, who was kneeling on the bed and looking wounded. There was no exit, Loki keeping you contained to the bedroom until your devastation was resolved.
“Y/N, I won’t let you leave when you’re so upset. You cannot drive safely. If you wish, I can take you anywhere you want to go,” Loki fretted, and though you knew he was right, you only grew more and more upset.
“Come to me, darling,” Loki opened his arms, the authority in his voice making you comply. You knew this was a fight you couldn’t win. You’d end up in Loki’s arms confessing your pain whether by his will, or your own.
Your sobs broke his heart, and he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you down into his lap. He held you firmly, and eventually your struggling subsided as you let yourself weep against his chest.
“Please don’t make me pry the truth out of you,” Loki begged softly into your hair. He didn’t want to add to your pain, he only wanted to fix it. He was very aware that sifting through your mind to take your private thoughts was something that made you feel extremely violated. He wanted you to tell him on your own, but he wouldn’t let you keep such heartbreaking secrets from him.
“Y-you... did you mean what you said about me? That I was pathetic, and d-desperate and a whore?” You sobbed out, stammering over your words.
“Oh, oh my goodness. My darling, I am so sorry. I never meant any of that. I thought you understood I just said it in the scene... please my love, I adore you more than all of the stars. Never think you are not the most perfect, beautiful, eloquent, and lovely person in my eyes. I love you, I will never say such horrible things again.” Tears flowed freely down Loki’s face. You were startled, unused to seeing raw emotion from him, especially not guilt. It hadn’t occurred to you that the words Loki had spoken were just part of the scene, part of the sex you were having. He wasn’t typically fond of degradation, but he was experimenting in the moment, never expecting it to be received as genuine.
There was no room for doubt in his words. He meant his love then, and he would spend the rest of his life proving his love to you.
His strong arms cradled you against his body, trying to hold you together.
“I’m so sorry, so sorry,” he breathed apologies like a repetitive prayer.
You listened to his heartbeat, letting the rhythm slow your racing mind. Your sobs eventually subsided, calmed by the steady circles of his hand on your back.
“I forgive you,” your lips moved against the underside of his jaw.
“Please always stop me, tell me then, if anything at all makes you feel even the slightest bit unsafe. I never want you to feel this way again, certainly not at my fault,” Loki begged, and you nodded before burying your face back in him.
“Do you still love me?”
“I love you the most,” you promised.
Loki talked you into staying the night, doting on you to the point you were almost smothered. His magic conjured everything you wanted, even in the back of your thoughts.
“Do you want to go get some?” He asked, and you turned, tilting your head in confusion.
“To Paris. For the macarons.”
“You’re reading my thoughts,” you sighed softly, but a smile graced your expression as you kissed him.
“No, I’m sleepy. Maybe tomorrow?” You asked, and he nodded, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you back to bed.
You situated yourself in his arms, your back against his chest. His larger frame shielded you, wrapping you in safety and warmth. You slept soundly with him, the pain and uncertainty from the afternoon long gone and replaced by his love.
The smell of coffee rose you out of your sleep. Your eyes took a few moments to adjust to the soft light spilling in through the windows, and you sat up, suddenly realizing you weren’t in Loki’s bedroom at his apartment, where you’d fallen asleep.
“Loki?!” You called, and he leaned in the doorway.
“Good morning. I didn’t mean to frighten you. We took a short trip in your sleep. We’re at my Paris flat.”
You smiled, stretching your arms above your head as you yawned. Loki put a coffee in your hands, leaning down and kissing your forehead.
“If I cry will you spoil me more often?” You teased lightly, and he shot you his signature dom look of warning, making you shudder.
“It breaks my heart to see you cry, my darling,” Loki’s tone was apologetic, guilt still left over from the day before. You squeezed his arm as you sipped your coffee.
“I’m okay,” you swore, earning another kiss from your lover.
“Mm. Finish that up and we’ll go to the patisserie down the street.”
He smiled, happy you were cheered up and back to normal. He moved his fingers and a pretty sundress appeared hanging on the back of the washroom door for you, delicate white flats placed below.
“Dressing me up like your little doll?”
“Careful, or I will dress you, after I get that attitude in line.”
“I love the dress. And I can put it on by myself,” you apologized, pecking his lips before walking to the bathroom.
You returned in the sundress, a white beret adorning your head along with it. You relished in the bright smile Loki rewarded you with. In a shimmer of green, he was dressed in pastels that matched your own. You loved to see him in casual clothes instead of the Asgardian armor he frequently wore, and he indulged you for this small Parisian vacation.
“You look stunning, my darling.”
Giggles erupted from your lips, making Loki’s heart soften. He dipped his head down to kiss you, making your nose scrunch up in the cutest way that he loved. His long, slender fingers folded with yours, holding your hand as the two of you made your way out of the flat and onto the bustling street. You were thankful for the sunny weather, greatly improving your mood from the rough night in New York’s rain.
“Much,” you nodded.
“Let’s get some crepes. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect, Loki.”
The young god pecked your lips before pushing you inside of a patisserie.
“Salut,” the girl working called to the two of you as the bell clinged on the door.
“Darling, what would you like? We can take some macarons to go,” Loki asked, pointing to the pastries behind the glass.
You chose a few, and Loki rattled off your order in French to the shopkeeper, taking the bag from her and moving you to sit at a table in the corner for your crepes.
“Can we stay in Paris for a couple of days? Just us, not any of the distractions from New York,” you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder and accepting the bite he fed you.
“Most certainly.” He kissed the sugar off of your lips before the two of you left for a park with your snacks for later. Loki held your hand as you walked along a low stone wall beside him, your eyes level with the extra height.
“Y/N, you must know that you are so, so terribly loved.”
You turned and snaked your arms around his neck, looking deep into his crystal blue eyes.
“I do not doubt your love, Loki.”
reader impact || first meeting: archon edition
characters: venti, zhongli
summary: a game has been released entitled genshin impact, consisting of otherworldly abilities relying on the basic elements of nature. the game follows the story of an interdimensional traveling twin in search of their other half. along this journey, they meet different characters that live in this world. including you.
notes: i still don't know if this will be a series but last post would've been too long if i had all four in one
venti's playthrough -
hoo boy, venti's streams would be VERY chaotic.
this boy has nothing to tie him down except for his own mortality, but will that stop him? no.
lots of late night or early morning streams because his sleep schedule is practically nonexistent.
he does a lot of singing or storytelling streams, which is why the time is perfect.
he'll sing lullabies and read bedtime stories at night. in the morning, he'll sing soft songs to wake up his viewers and talk about the rare dreams he'd have once he passes out.
he'll also have drinking streams where he just drinks as much as he can. he's a drunkard, what can i say?
anyway, gaming is something he isn't opposed to, but mainly ones with music or just pure crackhead energy.
when his viewers suggest genshin impact, he'd be somewhat hesitant?
he needs games that are chaotic and filled with energy to keep his attention.
his mods and viewers, however, are able to convince him because of a certain drunken character.
as soon as he sees the non-spoiled description of your character, he's off to download.
he actually enjoys a lot of the adventure aspects of the game, even if he's known as a lazy streamer.
anyway, his viewers definitely should have warned him about your appearance.
they never told him you were such a cute character!
"don't be afraid. it's alright now, i'm back."
he shrieked when you started talking.
"HOW ARE THEY SO CUTE?!?!"
he gets sad when his character sets off dvalin...
you disappear and your dragon friend flies off... now venti's just sad he might've made you upset.
he's pouting the whole way through mondstadt, thinking of ways to make it up to you.
he doesn't care if you're a video game character, he loves you nonetheless.
and once dvalin shows up in mondstadt, he's genuinely excited. he knows your bound to appear again because your friend is here.
when you help venti fly behind dvalin, his chat is teasing him because of the grin on his face.
he's so soft for you, man...
he will spend hours just ranting about you when he's going through the domains with the standard characters.
when he finds the other statues in mondstadt, he likes to climb up it to admire your archon design.
even though he's known you for a few minutes, he will automatically recognize your face in the game.
he knows it's annoying but he can't help but ask his chat if he'll get to see you again soon. he really doesn't want to spend hours without hearing you and seeing you in game.
he likes to yell at paimon whenever she makes fun of you
he shrieks again when he sees you running past the fountain.
he almost cries when he sees you playing your lyre for the first time.
you're perfect in his eyes and all he wants is to spend every minute of this game with you.
although, he did have to take a break the first time he saw your archon form illustrated.
you just... look like an angel and his body can't handle that.
he loves listening to your tales. like the battle pass story that occurs every time it renews, he never skips it. soon, he'll memorize it and recite it with you once it appears.
"oh! i remember you two. you both scared dvalin away!"
please forgive him. he knows you won't because the game doesn't require it, but he decides to always call stormterror dvalin to make up for it.
"ah, right! i haven't introduced myself... i'm (name) the bard!"
please this boy is so smitten for a video game character.
when you're revealed to be the archon, he's not too surprised? i mean, he already recognized you from the statue.
he is so excited to steal the lyre for you.
it takes him a bit, though, just because he has a bad attention span and ends up revealing his location.
he's even more excited to learn you're a regular at diluc's tavern.
he would do anything to drink with you.
he'll reluctantly end the game there just because it's time for his bedtime songs/stories.
"i'll be back tomorrow, (name), my love! i promise!"
zhongli's playthrough -
zhongli's a really good streamer even when he doesn't try to be.
he is basically the king of just chatting streams.
daily tea times and storytime streams are a go!
his voice is what lures them in and his charm is what traps them there.
he's still poor, though...
he relies on the donations from his viewers but he always expresses his gratitude.
man's respectful, what can i say?
anyway, he does play games every now and then. he doesn't tend to enjoy fighting games though.
although, he's rather good at them... for some reason.
his gaming streams tend to be a lot longer because he picks games with an overarching story.
i'm talking long games like night in the woods, detroit: become human, really any long game with deep meanings and stories.
his viewers will pay for him to just sit there and read to them.
anyway, someone donates to him and recommends he play genshin impact because of the long story and hidden lore.
he definitely enjoyed the beginning of the story, but got even more attached once he reached liyue.
he seems very intrigued when he begins the quest by watching liyue's archon fall dead on the ground.
he would definitely go on a long rant about gods and goddesses that have fallen.
when he meets childe, he does take a liking to him.
now, this man is known for being stoic and serious, so it comes as a surprise when he almost loses his composure when you appear.
keyword being almost.
he manages to stay composed but his chat knows for a fact he's freaking out over you.
your fancy suit/dress reminds him of the anthropological tales of gods/goddesses and kings/queens.
let this man drink tea with you please--
"it is an honor to meet you. i have heard tell of you from mondstadt."
"... they have quite the pleasant voice."
his chat is going wild at this point.
they get to listen to two heavenly voices talk to each other at the same time?! it's a dream come true!
another man that will let your long lines of dialogue play, listening intently to the stories you tell his character.
he actually really likes the image of his character talking to you.
he's so short compared to you--
he also really likes your animation when you're standing still.
not your idle animations, even though those are really nice as well. i'm talking about the movement of your clothes when your character is standing there. it's just so... soothing to him.
the gradient of your hair color to your elemental gnosis is also a nice detail to him. he likes how there are subtle ways archons look compared to normal citizens in teyvat.
when he finds out you are also a person who struggles with money... oh boy, this man cannot relate more.
you both can be broke together.
he will look to his chat for help every time a bargaining option occurs.
similar to venti, he'd be able to tell you were an archon automatically, mainly because of the way you carry yourself and your design.
when you give away your gnosis, he was really interested in the fact that you were so dedicated to your title of the archon of contracts that you would just willingly give your gnosis away.
when he meets the adepti, his chat jokingly says that the yaksha is yours and his adopted child.
"... i would not be opposed to that idea."
all of the artists and writers in his chat are dying at this point.
he'd look up all of the lore, especially ones involving you, and use them for his storytime streams.
PAIRING: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
GENRE: Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Reverse Comfort
WARNINGS: a lot of crying from both you and kuroo | cursing | mentions of sex | cheating (kind of? youll know when reading) | angst | mentions of drinking/being drunk | nothing is suggestive!! oh ya yall are married btw
WORD COUNT: 3k
A/N: ok ik this is long but this idea came from literally nowhere but i decided to write it thank you @combat-wombatus for helping me you helped put ideas in my brain<333 now i wasnt originally going for a happy ending but im really bad at angst so enjoy the shitty ending :)
“Please, Y/n, you know I didn't mean it,” he pleaded, his large hands desperately grabbing at your form while you push him away, your breaking sobs making his heart shatter. “Please, baby, don’t leave me,” he begs, falling on his knees in front of your trembling body, not being able to tear his eyes off of your heartbroken ones. He needed you to stay. He needed to show you that he isn’t that guy and that he would do anything for you. It was a one time thing. He wasn’t even sober. It wasn’t him. It was the alcohol. He wasn’t thinking straight. Please forgive him, please, please, please.
But you couldn’t. No matter how hard or how much you loved him and wanted to, the pain that ripped at your heart every time you looked at him was too much to bear. So you didn’t. You turn your blurry, glassy eyes away from him as he grabs your hand and forces it into his; your lips quivering and knees shaking. You couldn’t keep the betrayal and agony inside, whining and weeping at him, your knees giving out before your legs slam against the floor, your head near the carpet as you try and keep your affliction at bay.
“Y/n, please,” he whines, tears streaming down his pale cheeks; his admission of his unfaithfulness drained the color from his face. “Please forgive me, I need you, I love you so much.”
“W-” you sniffle, not knowing what to say. You knew you didn’t have to say anything at all, that you didn’t owe him any words, but you just...you just needed to know. “Why,” your voice quivered and cracked, your throat sore, “why did you,” you take a long breath, grabbing your chest to try and stop the heartache, the sudden cramp that formed where it used to be filled with warmth and love, “do this to me? With her?” You look up at him once with wide, searchful eyes as you ponder the reasons and look for the answers in his empty pupils.
“I wasn’t thinking straight, baby, I didn’t know what I was doing, please,” his voice stammers, trying to get you to understand that he really didn’t know what he was doing. “I would never do this to you, I-”
“But you did.” Your tone is no longer sad and confused, but angry and fed up. His head backing up quickly, not expecting the response. “You made a promise, Tetsurou, remember?” You glare at him with menacing eyes as you hold up the very finger he kissed and placed the ring on on your wedding day. The beautiful diamond ring that had his initials carved in the interior and little gorgeous jewels that made the walls sparkle once hit with the hot sun was no more; the dark, gloomy piece of rock and metal meaning nothing but lies and mistrust.
“No, Y/n, please. Don’t do this to me,” he adjures guiltily.
“Don’t do this to you?” Your voice laced with deadly venom, standing and backing up, wiping your mouth with your hand in annoyance, placing it on your hip. “You did this to me! You did this to us! You went out! You got drunk! You fucked someone else! And not even a random girl! No! You just had to fuck your ex!” Your voice cracked again before you inhaled sharply and covered up your struggle.
“Y/n, I didn’t know what I was doing!”
“And that’s an excuse?? What, so now you can go fuck whoever you want and say ‘I didn’t know what I was doing!’” you mimic, “so you can get away with it every time?”
He didn’t answer. He looked at the ground, understanding exactly where you came from.
“Hm? Are you gonna answer me, or sit there like a coward?”
He could tell fully well you were just saying this because you were hurt. You didn’t mean any of it. You loved him. No matter what, you will always love him. Trusting him was out of the box for a while, maybe forever. But he can’t lose you. He knew you were soulmates- he knew you were made for each other. There was a reason you guys made it this far and only had big problems now. He needed to find that reason and use it for himself to win you back. He needed you back.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, your dramatic hand gestures coming to a halt at his words, your figure coming to a stand still as you wait for him to finish. “You don't deserve this. You don’t deserve me. Please know that it was a mistake and that I’ll never do it again ever, ever, ever,” he repeats, wanting it to sound as sincere as he means. “Just please give me a chance to make this up to you, please don’t leave me by myself without you,” he sobs out, putting his head in his hands.
You knew you shouldn’t feel bad for him. But god-fucking-dammit are you feeling bad for him. You knew you still loved him, you knew he still loved you- that much was obvious. You couldn’t see him for a while, no. Could you guys work it out? Maybe stitch the wound? Wait until the scar is barely visible anymore? Would that even work?
“Tetsurou,” a single, hot tear dripping down your face as you point to the ground. “I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.”
“I know, I know, just please give me a chance to help fix this!” He cries at your feet, his body bundled in a ball of self hatred and guilt. “I can do it, baby. I can help things go back to normal.”
“I don’t think they ever will be normal again.”
He whines, trying to negotiate with you as much as he can. “Let me fix us. Let me give you my everything again, let me show you that I’m all yours and no one else's, please,” he moans in anticipation for rejection, knowing the chances of you agreeing were next to zero.
The next few hours are silent. Him alone in the bedroom. Crouching on the floor as he ponders your possible answer. You work in the kitchen, making food to satisfy your appetite. He could hear your sniffles from the bedroom and picture you wiping your tears as you carry the pots on the stove. God, he was the biggest piece of shit ever known. What the fuck went through his mind when he was fucking his ex? He only remembers some of it, them waking up in bed together after, only wearing undergarments underneath the sheets and him holding her waist as if she were you. He thought they had ended on good terms, knowing that they were better as friends. He rushed out the door, not being able to stay in the same room without getting sick. He knew what he had to do.
He opens the door to the living room, a slight creak gaining your attention as you stir the sauce in the pan. Your eyes are puffy, your lip still trembling as you try to turn away from him. He only takes about two steps forward before he stops, trying to find the words he wants to say.
“Listen, I know you said you needed time, and I’m not rushing you at all whatsoever. I want to give you all the time in the world to think this over. If you need, I can go to Kou’s house and stay there for a while. He won’t mind. I just want to give you the space you deserve.”
You nod in response, your head still facing away before he whispers an “I love you” before he slips out of the apartment.
The next few days were tortue. Not being able to sleep in the same bed he would sleep in with you, not being able to watch the same tv shows, not being able to even be in his presence at least once a day like you used to melted a hole of despair inside you: eating away at your emptiness, taking away the numbness that you so desperately needed right now. The feeling came back- the one that you tried shutting out three hours ago. It crept up at you, flipping your stomach and weighing your lungs down to the floor, your throat sore and dry. Your eyes wet with a blurry wall as your tears build up once again, missing your cheeks as you crouch down looking at the floor, falling on the tile. The droplets containing your anguish splatter on the ground, your raggedy whimpers echoing throughout the vacant apartment, making it all the more obvious he wasn’t there.
Knock knock knock
Was that the door?
Your wide, unbelieving eyes turned to the wooden door frame; the knocks getting louder and faster. You quickly stand up and try to collect yourself, preparing to have a long talk with Tetsurou. You grab the handle, turning it- the door opening with a tiny creak.
“Hi! Kuroo left his jacket at the party the other day, is he here?”
Oh, that bitch.
“No. He’s not.” You deadpan, not finding her cheery, happy expression amusing.
“Oh no! Uh, well, here, can you give this back to him for me?”
“Stop smiling at me like you aren’t part of the reason he’s gone.” You snark, glaring at her with sharp eyes as she backs up, confused.
“You heard me. Don’t act fucking clueless.”
“Excuse me? Who are you to talk to m-”
“Oh, cut the shit,” you roll your eyes, “I know you slept with Tetsurou, you don’t need put on whatever the fuck this is,” you gesture at her.
“What the hell are you talking about? What are you, fucking crazy?” Your eyes narrow in confusion, your disgusted scowl lessening at her words.
“Right. You probably don’t remember because you were blacked out,” you add sarcastically. “He told me what you guys did. Now you know. So, I would love it if you would just leave.”
“What are you- Me and Kuroo didn’t do shit last night. I drank like two beers and was hanging out with another girl the entire time,” she explains, looking offended. Your face loosens into an expression she couldn’t read. “He blacked out early and passed out on the couch while I was busy talking with the other girl.”
“Huh?” You whisper, your disoriented thoughts not aligning to a proper conclusion.
“I didn’t go to bed until like,” she thought back, “I don’t know, three in the morning? There were people passed out on the floor so I decided to take the guest bedroom with her. I was still awake when Kuroo came into the room, I’m guessing because he thought it was yours, based off of how he kept mumbling your name and shit,” she exhales, “he grabbed onto me once he got in and just clung.” You glower at her, huffing. She sees this, sighing before continuing, “Calm down, remember nothing happened. Remember that girl? She ended falling off the bed because I was scooting away from his clingy ass.” You look at her blankly, trying to fit the pieces together. “She ended up leaving the party completely,” she mumbled in embarrassment before you speak up.
“Then why did he tell me you guys had sex?” You mutter quietly, although assuming she heard since her head backed up while she quickly scoffs.
“I swear to God, that man. Listen.” You look up into her eyes- her genuine eyes. “Me and Kuroo didn’t do a single thing. I didn’t do anything to him and he didn’t do anything to me. I’ll have a conversation with him later because he is an absolute dumbass,” she breathed.
What the fuck?? You were just supposed to believe her?
“How am I supposed to believe that?”
“Me and him ended a long time ago. I don’t like him like that and I haven’t for a while. And seeing he was bragging about you the entire time at the party, he’s over me, too. Besides, I’m not even into guys that much anymore anyways,” she grinned and winked at you. The shock and realization hit you like a truck. She wasn’t even- oh my God. She chuckled at your expression; you ran away from her to the counter to get your phone, quickly unlocking it and tapping on Tetsurou’s contact.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mumble over and over. To tap the call button, listening to it ring as you bring your phone up to your ear, hearing him pick up the phone almost immediately after.
“Y/n? Are you okay?” He sounded worried. It’s only been about a week, he had hoped that you weren’t going to leave him.
“Get over here, right now, Tetsurou.” Your voice made it seem like it was urgent, so he quickly picked up his jacket from the couch, and you could hear the jingling of his keys as he grabbed them and opened the door, almost slamming it shut once he left.
“Y/n?” He asked at the open front door, wondering why it wasn’t closed. “Y/n, you have to be careful and close the door, we have them for a reason, you know,” he said as he walked in. Even after being at the line of a break-up, he still cares for your well-being. He didn’t even do anything wrong and he was still caring for you as a loved one should. He always did everything to make you feel comfortable and safe, so once he knew that he had slept with his ex he was completely devastated to his core. He didn’t want to do this to you, but you had the right to know.
“Tetsu.” You called. Already back to nicknames? This is good, right?
“Yes? Y/n?” He was scared, to say the least, feeling awkward and not knowing what to do. He walked scarcely towards your figure sitting on the couch, not caring to drop his keys and jacket on the counter. He had a feeling this might go wrong.
“We need to talk.” Shit. This is exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Hearing those words he couldn’t help but think that you were going to make him pack his stuff and go. “So, I talked with your ex.” You speak slowly, not wanting your words to come out wrong. You don’t want him to take any of this in a bad way at all. Yet his eyes widen drastically, his heartbeat racing and his nerves pricking him. “You are just one big dummy, aren’t you?”
What? What are you talking about?
“You didn’t sleep with her. She told me everything that happened that night. She’s not even into guys anymore. Tetsu-”
This couldn’t be happening. Not only did he accuse himself of cheating, he accused himself of cheating with his ex, and that he cheated with his ex at a party, while you two are married. And then it turns out it wasn’t true? What the hell was wrong with him? He jeopardized your entire relationship because he was too drunk to know what was going on.
“Wait, what?” He yells, angrily sitting down on the couch, “so you’re telling me-” you nodded and hummed an ‘mhm’ in response. His hands find their way to his hair, pulling at the roots and scratching his scalp, his low grunts of pain and fury seeping out of his throat as he frustratingly comprehends what he just did.
You rush over to him, grabbing his wrists and pushing them down to his lap as fast as you can, making his eyes find their way to your blown out pupils. You can see the hot tears prickle down his cheek as he frowns at you, completely and utterly defeated.
“Tetsu, I don’t want you to hurt yourself, it’s okay,” you reassure, giving him a happy smile. He wanted to smile back, but he couldn’t control the broken sob that escaped him. “Hey, hey,” you try to grab his attention as he pulls his head down, crying. “It’s okay, baby, it’ll be okay.” You wrap your arms around his head, protecting him as you softly coo and ‘shh’ him quietly in his ear. ‘I’m sorry’ kept coming out of his mouth as he clinged to you, not being able to help his want to be closer to you. The realization that he just almost broke your heart completely and he had worried about divorce for this shit made him want to just rip his scalp out. He was so stupid. So, so so, stupid. “Tetsu, look at me, please. Look at me,” you whisper, bringing your hand to his chin, dragging it up so you could catch sight of his hazel irises. His eyes red and puffy, his cheeks wet and his eyes droopy, you couldn’t do anything but frown at the sight. He hated himself right now, not wanting to face the embarrassment and the humiliation of the situation.
“You don’t deserve me, I’m so sorry,” he whimpered in your arms, gripping them tighter and tighter for comfort- you knowing that he needed it right now. You had already pulled him into your chest, feeling his wet tears soak your shirt, your hands rubbing his back and your fingers gently grazing his throbbing scalp.
“It’s okay, I forgive you, Tetsu, you did the right thing by telling me you did it instead of hiding it from me, and then it turns out you didn’t do it at all.” Your cheeks start to feel hot, and you don’t even realize your sniffles until you could feel a dam break at your water line. You couldn’t stop them, the tears of relief. You didn’t want to stop them. You were glad that they were her, glad that they were for him, glad they were because you knew the truth, glad because you knew you two would be okay.
You looked back at your ring, watching it bloom like a flower in the spring, the meaning coming back to your marriage. It wasn’t just metal and rock anymore, it was a gorgeous promise.
“I love you, Tetsurou. Don’t forget that. You’re staying with me, alright?” you whisper into his hairline.
“Thank you,” he cries.
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vignettes of a bond || alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader
I originally wrote this in two parts for my sleepover but after I realized how long it accidentally became, I've reformatted it, added/changed a few things, and made into a oneshot!
word count: 3.1k
warnings: smut, angst, knotting, violence
June 2nd, 1943, 11:43 p.m., James Barnes’ bedroom
“I wanna do it, before I go,” he whispered against your skin. “But I know it’s wrong. It’s too cruel.”
“No, please,” you whimpered, “I want it. I want your mark.”
Bucky pulled back for a moment and you examined your Alpha’s face carefully, knowing it might be the last time for a long time. “I couldn’t bond to you and then leave you. It wouldn’t be fair… you deserve to find somebody who can stay, and be with you, and protect you.”
“All I want is you,” you whispered. “Please, Alpha… bite me.”
You saw him hesitate for a moment before he leaned in and sucked at your neck, building the anticipation before he finally sunk his teeth into your skin and you cried out, one single tear rolling down your cheek. “Mine,” he growled against your skin as he lapped at the healing wound, “my Omega. Forever.”
“Yours, only yours,” you agreed eagerly.
It wasn’t the first time Bucky had taken you, but that night he really and truly claimed you, left you a desperate begging mess, stretched out over his knot as he filled you over and over.
The next morning, you were still sore between your legs as well as on your new mark, and it took everything in you to be strong as you saw him off at the train station, waving goodbye and praying that your Alpha would return to you soon.
November 9th, 1943, 2:24 p.m., undercover SHIELD facility
“You promised Bucky you’d take care of me,” you reminded him with a little smile, wiping a tear from your cheek.
“I know,” Steve relented, “but we both know I can’t do that. Not in this state. But maybe I can protect you if I do this. Maybe I can protect my country. I owe it to everyone, especially Bucky, to try.”
You nodded. “But I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too. Come see me before I ship out for good, alright?”
“Of course,” you agreed.
December 27th, 1943, 8:32 a.m., your front porch
“You’re lying,” you gasped as you shook your head. “You’re wrong, no, it’s not true.”
“It is,” Steve promised as tears welled in his eyes, “I’m so so sorry, I saw it myself, I had to watch him fall…”
“It’s not true! He’s not dead!”
“I know he loved you so much. He talked about every day, he couldn’t wait to come home to you,” Steve remembered, choking up noticeably. “But he won’t. He’s gone.”
“You don’t understand, I know, okay? I know.”
“You’re in shock, I understand, it’s hard to lose your mate—”
“You’re a beta, you wouldn’t understand,” you dismissed; sure, he looked like an alpha now, but it didn’t make a difference. “Omegas, we know when our Alpha dies, we feel it, it kills us. He’s far away, but he’s still there, I still feel him!”
Steve held you as you sobbed, your body crumpling into his arms. Sometimes you thought maybe he held you too tight on accident because he was still getting used to his new strength; other times you thought he did it on purpose.
February 3rd, 1944, 12:00 p.m., undercover SHIELD facility
“Even when I had nothing, I had Steve,” you recalled shakily, “and now he’s gone too.”
“Is that why you’re volunteering?” Agent Carter asked you. “Because you’d rather sleep for a hundred years than live without your mate and your best friend?”
“I’m volunteering because my mate and my best friend died for SHIELD,” you corrected firmly, “and if I’m not willing to also, then I’m admitting I think they went to waste.”
“Steve told me you didn’t think Bucky was dead,” Peggy remembered.
You winced. “I’m not sure. But I know he’s not coming home again. I came here to give whatever I could to help find him… I was asked to participate in a cryogenics research study. If it helps him, then I’ll do it.”
She was about to get up, apparently satisfied with your final interview, but you stopped her.
“On one condition,” you added. “If James Barnes is found, alive or dead, wake me up to see him.”
She nodded, stepping out of the room and leaving you alone again.
May 8th, 2012, SHIELD headquarters
“Can you hear me?”
You slowly blinked awake, your vision taking a moment to catch up with your mind. You saw tubes coming out of your arms; you saw Steve above you, looking like the day you saw him last.
“Did you find Bucky?” you asked instantly. Why else would they wake you up?
“No,” Steve answered, seemingly a bit disappointed that that was your first and only question.
“Then put me back to sleep,” you demanded.
“It’s been 68 years,” he told you. “You’ve slept for 68 years. It’s time to wake up.”
And you did, more than you ever wanted to, because you realized you couldn’t feel him anymore. Your Alpha was gone. Worse, he probably died while you were asleep; he probably died alone.
One more time, like he had 68 years ago, Steve held you while you sobbed.
August 1st, 2014, 2:11 a.m., Avengers compound, Steve Rogers’ quarters
You ran into Steve’s room barefoot and still in your pajamas, barreling through the door and right into his bed.
“Steve, I feel him!” you rushed.
“What?” he groaned sleepily, looking up at you as he blinked in confusion.
“I feel him again, he’s alive,” you explained. “I know it. He’s weak… he’s hurting… but he’s there.”
“That’s impossible,” Steve shook his head. “It’s been too long, he would’ve died of old age anyways.”
“Don’t you want to believe it? Don’t you want to think he’s out there?”
“Do I want to think he’s alone and I didn’t save him?” Steve hissed. “No, I can’t say that I particularly do!”
“But we still can, Steve, we just have to find h—”
But before you could finish, the feeling left you, and you were just half of something again.
“Oh,” you breathed.
“He’s gone again?” Steve realized.
You nodded, biting your lip as it started to quiver. He sighed and pulled you into a hug. “If I could just see his body, and know it was over,” you whispered, “if I could just bury him, have a funeral…”
“We’ll have one,” Steve decided, “after this mission. We’ll put him to rest. He deserves that, and so do you.”
You nodded into his shoulder. It shattered you into a million pieces but it was still the better option, to try to let him go in whatever small way you could. He would always, always, always be your Alpha, nothing could change that, but a funeral would at least bring some closure.
That would have to wait until after your next mission though… and it was going to be a big one: tracking the elusive Winter Soldier.
August 3rd, 2014, 1:14 p.m., Lower East side
You were a few blocks away, helping civilians escape the firefight, when you felt it.
For one impossibly brief moment, you felt him, stronger than you had in nearly 80 years. He was here.
You instantly got up and ran like you’d never run before, finding the Soldier and Steve locked in a brutal showdown— but his mask was gone now, and you nearly fell to your knees at the sight of him.
“Bucky!” you yelped, but you knew he wasn’t there or you would’ve felt his presence. Your Alpha was somewhere underneath the shell that wore his face, and you needed to find him.
You ran forward just as Steve made a break for it, getting to him just in time to stand between the Soldier and his mission.
“Alpha, please,” you whimpered, clutching at his chest. A metal hand backhanded you to the ground.
“Out of my way, Omega,” he growled, stepping over you, but you grabbed at his ankles even when he tried to kick you away.
“My mark,” you explained hastily, pulling your shirt down some to make sure it was visible. “It’s yours. Do you remember? You gave me this. This is your mark on me.”
He stared down at you, seeming to be contemplating it, and you scrambled back to your feet and faced him.
“I still feel you,” you whispered. “I knew you were alive, I knew you’d come back to me. I could feel you, right here,” you explained as you took his hand and placed it on your chest. “Could you feel me? Did you know I was waiting for you all this time?”
His eyes were watering but he still seemed confused— stunned, more specifically, as you placed your hand on his chest.
“I’ll always be yours, Bucky. I’ll always be your Omega, no matter where you are.”
A stun gun took you down, an array of masked men appeared, and before he could really see you for what you were, he was dragged away and taken to be erased again.
August 3rd, 2014, 9:04 p.m., Avengers compound, medical bay
“I can’t believe we let them get away,” Steve lamented, resting his face in his hands. “I can’t believe they took him again…”
“They’ll be back,” you promised sternly. “They’re going to figure out what I am to him. They’re going to realize I could break his programming. And they’re going to come for me.”
“And when they do?” Steve pressed.
“We’ll be ready. And I’ll get my Alpha back.”
August 3rd, 2014, 9:04 p.m., temporary HYDRA operations facility
"The woman on the bridge... the Omega..." Bucky mumbled. "She knew me... she had my mark."
"No she didn't."
He furrowed his brow. "She showed me..."
Pierce sighed, glancing over to the HYDRA scientist who looked back at him sternly.
"She's too dangerous to be left alive," the man sighed, shrugging in his lab coat. "We can't deprogram a bond like that."
"We'll take care of her," Pierce promised.
Bucky launched from the chair, snapping his restraints like paper. "Touch her and I'll fucking kill you!" he bellowed, tackling his handler to the ground.
Pierce just laughed as another scientist jabbed Bucky with a needle, dosing him with something strong enough to kill any other man but just enough to knock out a super soldier. Pierce stood up and dusted himself off as he watched Bucky go limp and be lifted back into his chair.
"I can see the fight in your eyes, Soldier," he taunted as he leaned into his face. "I know you really would kill me, if you could. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, right? But don't worry about your mate, we'll make it quick and painless. Hey, maybe beforehand me and a few of the other Alphas will show her a good time, poor thing's been without her mate for 70 years... I bet she's raring to go."
Bucky's arm twitched as his eyes started to fall shut, a tear falling down his blank and motionless face.
"Wipe him," Pierce instructed to the scientist, turning and walking away as the electric whirr of the machine charging up filled the room.
August 11th, 2014, 3:53 p.m., SHIELD headquarters
Steve was impressed with how accurate and imminent your prediction was; HYDRA was hot on your trail and desperate to eliminate the biggest threat to their Asset. Knowing they were coming made it easier, but it was still a brutal fight.
You and Steve tried to stay together, but they were smart, they used the perfect bait to lure you away.
"Tell me where he is," you demanded from the HYDRA agent as you held a blade to his neck, "then I'll kill you."
"Isn't it supposed to be 'or I'll kill you'?" he frowned.
You shook your head. "Not the way I operate."
Opposite to the reaction you were expecting, he grinned widely. "He's here."
Your heart stopped.
"On the roof. He's here to kill you."
You dropped the knife and ran straight for the stairwell, ascending them like they were nothing and calling out for your Alpha.
You found him there, waiting, gun trained on you. Raising your hands in surrender, you yelled to him again.
"Bucky," you called across the windy roof, eyes nearly blinded by the bright afternoon sun. "Alpha."
"I'm not who you think I am," he yelled back. "I'm not your Alpha."
It hurt to hear it in his voice, but you knew it wasn't him. Cautiously, you stepped closer. "Before you left, you told me you didn't want to mark me and leave me behind," you recalled. "But I wanted it. I wanted to be bonded to you more than I'd ever wanted anything."
He could clearly see you were coming closer, he even tightened his finger over the trigger of his weapon, but he was waiting. You kept walking to him, slowly.
"I've never regretted it," you continued, "not even when I thought you were dead, not even when I had to spent a lifetime-- more than that-- apart from you."
Finally you were face to face, and you stepped closer until his gun was pressed right into your chest.
"You can shoot me now and I still won't regret it," you promised. "I love you."
Shakily, he lowered his weapon. "Omega..." he breathed.
He pulled you into him and you sobbed as you felt him come to life in your arms-- the real him, your Alpha, your Bucky. He held you close and breathed against the top of your head and it was like a dream coming true decades after you'd forced yourself to let it go.
But you'd never given up. And now you had found him again.
Agents started to come onto the roof and Bucky spun the two of you around, firing with his right hand and using the left, metal arm as a shield for you.
He carried you and you didn't even know where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. In his arms, you were home.
August 12th, 1:03 a.m., Avengers compound, your quarters
You hadn't stopped coming or crying for at least an hour. Bucky had all but split you open on his knot all night and he didn't show any signs of stopping.
He apparently intended to make up for lost time. And you'd lost a lot of time.
"Just one more, I know you can give me one more," he groaned furiously rubbing your clit as his knot began to swell again.
You could give him anything, as long as he asked for it like that.
You'd lost count of how many times he'd told you to come for him, and how many times you did it immediately.
"I can see how full you are," he whispered as he rubbed your stomach gently. "So much seed in you that your body can't hold it all."
You looked down and yep, you were distinctly bloated from his come alone; it made you a little dizzy to even look at it.
"The idea of you alone during your heats, no one to protect you, it kills me," he explained with a growl. "I won't let you go again. I can't."
"Then don't," you sighed. "Never leave this bed, fill me with everything you have."
"Did anybody ever help you through them? The heats?" he asked. "I wouldn't blame you, they can be so painful... I just need to know so I can make sure you forget about them."
"No, Bucky, never— I never let anyone touch me."
"Steve could've helped you, at least some..."
"He wouldn't have, he loves you too much. And I wouldn't accept anything less than you, ever. You're my Alpha. We're bonded. There's never anyone else."
That didn't seem to satisfy him, his eyes darting away as he swallowed. Your gut sank with the realization he probably wasn't being totally honest about why he asked.
"Your ruts," you gasped. "Were you alone for all of them?"
He shut his lips tighter.
"Bucky, it's okay, just tell me. I was asleep for 70 years, I skipped most of them, but you... you had to live through them all."
"They gave me betas, and omegas," he mumbled, "but I don't... I don't really remember. I know they wanted me to. They threatened to hurt me if I didn't, because they knew I'd go crazy after so many ruts alone, but I can't remember if I really did it. I remember... I remember crying, and begging for you."
"Alpha," you breathed as you felt new tears run over the stains of your old ones. "It's okay. Whatever happened, it's okay now. We're together again. Everything's okay."
You wiped his tear away with your thumb, holding his face tightly, weaving your fingers into his long hair.
"I'll always be your Omega," you promised.
He leaned in closer to you, kissing your cheek before pulling back a little. "It's faded," he whispered as he ran his thumb over the mark on your neck. "The last time I saw it, it was still fresh."
"It's older, sure, but it's stronger than ever, Bucky."
August 14th, 10:12 a.m., Avengers compound, residential area kitchen
Steve's eyes went wide when he came into the kitchen for breakfast and found you there, steeping your tea. "Surprised to see you out of the love nest so soon," he smirked.
"It's been three days, I don't think that counts as soon," you scoffed.
"It does to him," Steve frowned. "He's asleep, isn't he?"
"I know he wouldn't let you out of his sights if he was conscious," Steve chuckled.
At that moment, you heard Bucky call your name and run out into the hall, only a bedsheet covering his groin as he appeared in the doorway. You spun around and smiled when you saw him come running towards you, embracing you with his free arm.
"You should've told me you were leaving, I got scared when I woke up without you," he admitted weakly.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry!"
He pulled back and clutched your face in both his hands. "I'm waking up next to you every morning for the rest of my life, you understand?"
You nodded dutifully. "Yes, Alpha."
"One hand on the sheet, please, Buck?" Steve winced, looking away.
“Whoops,” Bucky groaned, reaching to cover himself as you laughed softly.
“Let’s go back to bed, baby,” you decided quietly, taking Bucky’s (free) hand in yours and waving goodbye to Steve, who was already making his way as far out of earshot as possible.
General Relationship Headcanons || James Potter
Request: “Please can you do a general relationship for james potter? xx” -anon
Word Count: 5,835
Notes: This is kinda slow burn, I’m a little sorry. The ones I did for Remus and Sirius were not canon so this won’t be either which is a little easier because no Jily. These keep on getting longer and longer, but part of that is because Jamie is definitely my favorite marauder.
Warnings: Smut, angst, lots of fluff, dom and sub James, momma’s boy Jamie
You were something special
James had known that since he was 4 years old
It just took him a long time to realize exactly how special you really were
James Potter was an idiot
That would become increasingly apparent to him as he grew up
Your family and the Potters were great friends for as long as any of you could remember, meaning that you and James were practically attached at the hip
And who could blame you? He has such nice hips
The both of you are heart broken when he leaves for Hogwarts leaving you behind because you wouldn’t start until the following year.
All throughout his first year you guys write back and forth sharing every single detail of your respective days, down to the color of the plate you ate your lunch on
You can’t help but feel envious
There’s your best friend in the entire world, in fucking Scotland
Making new best friends
When the next year rolls around and you get to finally join James on the Hogwarts Express you want to hate Sirius and Remus
You really do
But how can you? They’re Remus and Sirius
You guys spend the entirety of the train ride laughing and talking and the other two boys tell you embarrassing stories from the year prior about James
When they hear your nicknames for him (Jamsie, Jamie, J), they make fun of him relentlessly
He calls you an assortment of cheesy nicknames too but his favorites, before you guys get together, are “Sweetheart”, “Sunshine”, and “love”
If you get sorted into Gryffindor James screams his head off for you, making room for you to sit next to him at the table in the Great Hall, opposite Sirius and Remus.
If you’re in a different house then James gets sad, really sad, like that night he cries into his pillow and Sirius has to climb into bed with him to give him hugs and tell him that its okay even if the two of you are in different houses. That doesn’t have to affect your friendship if you don’t let it.
The next day James would find you before you got to the Great Hall and engulf you in a hug in the middle of the corridor, not caring that there were people streaming past the two of you in either direction.
“We’re gonna be friends forever right (Y/N/N)?”
“I hope so Jamie.”
Even though you’re in different classes and potentially different houses you guys are around each other all of the time
You sit with him and the other boys at their place at the Gryffindor table
They sit with you in the library
And by the end of your first year you’re having sleepovers in their dorm
You sleep in James’ bed of course and Remus and Sirius do. Not. hesitate. To mock you relentlessly
“You and your girlfriend getting comfy over there Jamie?”
“Go to hell Siri, let me cuddle James in peace!”
These jokes continue through your years at Hogwarts and you and James take them in jest
As you guys get older the physical affection you share never dwindles
After someone made a crude comment in the hallway about the two of you he talked to you making sure that you were okay with the arms he would throw over your shoulders, the arms wrapped around you waist, the kisses to your forehead before he left the Great Hall for class, holding you in his arms in the Gryffindor common room as the two of you drifted to sleep.
You assure him that its okay, that its not weird because you guys have been best friends since forever and that you love how affectionate you are with each other
You don’t start to realize you feelings for James until he starts pining after Lily, you don’t know what you have until its gone, right?
Watching him stare at her in the Great Hall
Writing her little notes that even though he’ll go up and ask her out in front of everyone, which you’re not too fond of either, he’s too shy to actually give her
Listening to him go on and on about her, her hair, the cadence of her voice, the beautiful color of her eyes, how intelligent she is, and on and on
Sirius picks up on this instantly
And he does not hesitate to make fun of you for it all the time, obviously not enough for James to pick up on it because he’s a prick not a complete asshole, but still enough to make you blush uncontrollably
You can’t say anything to him though because he’s your James and there’s absolutely no way that he returns your feelings, you’re like a little sister to him
So, much to Sirius’ chagrin, you swallow your feelings and sit there by James, trying to listen to Remus as he tries to explain to you your Charms homework while James watches Lily on the other side of the Common Room laughing with Dorcas and Marlene
And a little piece of your soul dies
The summer between your third and fourth year, his fourth and fifth, you were excited to finally have your Jamsie back to yourself again.
It went without saying that the two of you would alternate between each other’s houses over the summer
There would be no Lily Evans to distract him
No exams to stress over
Just you and James at the Potter estate, exploring the woods that, in all honesty, didn’t change all that much from summer to summer, and swimming in the bioluminescent pond on the edge of the Potter property, simply floating next to each other on your backs, one of his hands grasping your forearm, making sure you didn’t float too far away from him
But apparently this year it didn’t go without saying.
Instead, a mere month before the end of the term, James regretfully tells you that he and his family are going to Spain for the summer to be with his aunt who lives there and he really wants to take you but its the entire summer and his parents nixed it
“I’m so sorry sunshine, I really want to take you but-”
“It’s okay Jamie, I get it if you could you’d take me, but you can’t so its fine. I’m not going to hold it against you.”
And you can tell that he’s genuinely upset about it but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt any less when you hug him goodbye at King’s Cross knowing that unlike years prior you weren’t going to see him in a few days.
You spend a good chunk of the summer wallowing, not necessarily because your crush isn’t there with you but because your best friend isn’t
James writes you every day just like he did during his first year at Hogwarts but its not the same because you can’t see him
You can’t hold onto his arm when you’re tired and set your head on his shoulder
So when September 1st rolls around and you finally get to see him again you’re down right giddy
But on Platform 9 ¾ you’re looking for a wiry, lanky boy, with a nose a little too big for his face, and a squeaky little voice
Not the 6 foot man who approaches you, with broad shoulders and budding facial hair along his jawline.
Oh holy shit
He no longer sounds like a dog toy, a very cute dog toy but still
You must admit that you’re a fan of the change, as the word leaves his lips you imagine resting your head on his chest and feeling the vibrations as he spoke with whomever
Its not a single day that you’re back at Hogwarts before James is fawning all over Lily again and you’ve had enough of it
You’re not going to let yourself to keep on pining after a boy who doesn’t love you
Not even doesn’t love you
But loves someone else
Sirius finds you a couple weeks into the school year, sitting with your back against a wall in an empty corridor trying to hold in your tears.
“What’s wrong, love?”
“I-I can’t believe I let myself fall for him. I’m an idiot Si!”
Sirius holds you in that hallway, rocking you back and forth while he murmurs to you that James is the idiot, not you, and that you deserve so much more than him
He helps you concoct a plan to get over James, he pitches to you going out on a date with someone else
Doesn’t have to be anything all that serious, just something to get your mind off James and remind you how hot you are, and how many people are lining up for you to give them so much as a moment of your time.
It doesn’t take too much on Sirius’ part to get you to agree to let him set you up
His name was Sullivan, he was in your year, a year younger than Sirius, with sandy blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes
Sully, as he insisted you call him, took you for a butter beer at the Three Broomsticks
You had a good time, Sully was smart, and attractive, and you and he shared similar interests
And all though he was lovely, and he insisted you were too, the both of you agreed that you would be better off as friends
You spent more time with him in the following weeks and less with James, Sirius, and Remus
The latter two were very happy that you were trying to move on because watching you stare at James was a little sad
James is confused, and hurt, and jealous
Though he adamantly refuses to admit that last one
Instead he just watches you. All. Of. The. Time.
To the point where if it wasn’t James it would be disturbing
And even though it is him it gets touch concerning
Sometimes before you go and sit with the Marauders at their spot in the Great Hall you’ll stop by where Sullivan sits with his friends and give him a smile, talk for a few minutes before hugging each other and walking away
It made James’ blood boil
Who did this kid think he was, you were his best friend he didn’t get to just waltz in and take you, or Godric forbid date you
One day you’re sitting outside with the boys when you see Sullivan on the other side of the court yard, excusing yourself you walk up to him and chat for a couple minutes before Sullivan’s face goes pale and there’s a shadow looming over you.
James throws an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side while extending his hand to Sully
“Hi, I’m James, (Y/N/N)’s best friend.”
James is standing there with you guys maybe 2 minutes, being the most passive aggressive petty person he could possibly be, dropping not so subtle hints about his distaste for Sully before he’s tugging you back to the tree where Siri and Remmy still are, their hands resting dangerously close to each other’s
“What the fuck James!”
He plays dumb because if there’s one thing James Potter is good at its being an idiot, but eventually he relents
“I just don’t like the way he looks at you, it's like he’s trying to get into your pants!”
You start cackling
“You’ve got to be kidding me James we’re just friends!”
Sirius being the eternally helpful human being he was added in his two cents, “Maybe you’re projecting Potter!”
And the laughing stops
James goes beet red, you feel all the blood drain from your face before collecting yourself and murmuring a quick apology before racing off for the castle
You and James don’t talk for 2 days
It's the longest either of you have gone without some form of communication
You’re both so embarrased and you don’t want to hear James tell you that he doesn’t actually like you and that it was just Sirius being an asshole
Of course he would say this to make you comfortable but that’s not what it would do
It would crush you
You don’t have classes together so it's easy to ignore him there, and if you’re in separate houses it's even easier
Now that’s a different story
You can’t just eat somewhere else and the prospect of facing James after what Sirius said has you running for the nearest toilet
So you scrounge up what you can in the kitchen after meals
It kills James that he’s only seen you on the other side of the courtyard or disappearing behind corridors
You’re supposed to be his Sunshine, he can’t stand that you’re hiding from him, he misses you so much
And at first he’s a little angry when you don’t sit with them at meals, but after scanning the Great Hall, he realizes you’re not there
His stomach drops, have you not been eating?
So dinner the second night he collects a plate for you with all of your favorite things and determinedly sets off for your dorm, balancing a plate in one hand and a glass of pumpkin juice in the other
He has to knock on your door with his foot
“Jamie, what’re you doing here.”
He gently pushes past you letting himself into your room to set the plate and glass on your desk
“You haven’t been eating.”
And despite yourself your heart flutters, because he’s right you haven’t been eating as much as you should’ve not wanting to get caught in the kitchens you only swiped what you could easily get your hands on
But then you have to remember, it's because you’re basically his little sister, not because he reciprocates your feelings
“I’ve missed you Sunshine.”
And you lose it
“Stop! Stop it Jamie I can’t take it anymore, you can’t keep calling me Sunshine and Sweetheart and Love and cuddle with me on the couch and then turn around and declare your undying love for Lily fucking Evans. I can’t do it anymore! I like you, differently than you like me and I can’t do this anymore!”
Poor Jamsie has never felt like more of an absolute asshole
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t revel just a little bit in the look on his face, didn’t feel a little triumph that maybe he felt even a fraction as bad as you did.
He’s an idiot and he realizes it
You’re both very quiet for a minute before he walks up to you so that you’re a mere inch from him before he gulps and leans down to press his lips to yours
“I’m an idiot.”
“Yes you are.”
“But I’m your idiot, right?”
It's not as though much changes between the two of you on the surface once you’re together
You’re a bit more touchy feely with each other, kisses usually pressed to foreheads or temples often find themselves brushing at the other’s lips
He holds your hand a lot more freely now and more often than not it will end up clasping your thigh under the table in the Great Hall, or after having pushed your chairs together in the library so they touched
When you curl up together in the Gryffindor common room his hands find their way under your shirt, lightly tracing the skin of your stomach, pressing kisses to the junction where your neck meets your shoulder
His arsenal of nicknames expands impressively
Angel, darling, beautiful, gorgeous, poppet, pretty girl, mine
And he’ll add the occasional my before the word “love”
You already slept over in their dorm room every other night before you and James got together but now it's more of a nightly occurrence
Especially the day before a Quidditch match, James insists that he sleeps with his lucky charm, says you keep him calm
You cheer the hardest for James at his matches, bar maybe Sirius
Even if you’re in a different house you sit with Siri and Remus in the Gryffindor stands and get all decked out in red and gold
Now that you’re his he has no problem with Sullivan, he trusts you and by extension he trusts the people you trust
You’re touched one day, early on into your relationship, when Lily comes up to you in the Great Hall and tells you that you didn’t have to tell James to tell her that he was sorry for being a prick and not taking no for an answer.
You don’t tell her this but you didn’t ask him to do anything
James is just a good person
He also has an abundance of money and little impulse control
He’ll buy you literally anything he sees that reminds him of you, or if he remembers you bringing up that you wanted or needed it
He likes buying you jewelry because you can wear it more often than you could say the same dress or blouse
That’s not to say that he doesn’t buy you clothes too, he has all of your sizes memorized and knows whether you wear normal/petite/tall
James Potter will buy you pads/tampons/whatever product you use
He’s a man not a little boy and he doesn’t give a flying fuck if someone makes fun of him for it
One day Lucius calls him out for it and Jamie is just not having it
“You have no clue where the clit is or what to do with it do you Malfoy?”
He’s always helped you through your periods so now that you’re together he’s just more liberal with his touch because he knows how much you love it
He knows how to do basic hairstyles and such because he watched his mom when he was a little boy and watch your mom do your hair too
If your hair requires special treatments and hairstyles he will write to your mom, asking for her to teach you because he loves your hair and wants to be able to help you, like imagine sitting in his bed while he puts braids in your hair following the instructions your mom sent him
Speaking of families when he tells Euphemia you two are together (which he does as soon as he leaves your dorm that night) she literally screams
Fleamont was worried that she was being attacked
But the next day at breakfast you get a letter from Euphemia stained with dried tear drops as she poured her heart out to you, telling you how much she loved you and that if her son ever broke your heart you were to go to her immediately and she would deal with him for you
The year you finally become boyfriend and girlfriend is the year you all become animaguses
James tries to argue with you, insisting that you shouldn’t do it because it's dangerous and he doesn’t want you getting hurt
Your rebuttal is that isn’t it just as dangerous for him? And if you’re not doing it neither is he and that leaves Sirius which just wouldn’t end well
He’s so proud of you when you transform for the first time, he gets so distracted watching you that he forgets where he is for a moment
That summer, unlike the one previous, you and James spend all of your time together
You spend the entirety of the holiday at the Potter estate doing all the things that you and Jamie used to do when you were younger, only this time its better
Instead of being childhood friends you’re each other’s
You can kiss him, and hold his hand, and he can lift up your hair to kiss the back of your neck
Euphemia lets you guys sleep in the same bed but before that she sits the two of you down and gives you the talk
“Now (Y/N), I don’t know if your parents have ever discussed this with you but if you two are going to be sharing a bed I think it's important we go over it.”
There’s so much blushing and whining from James
One night you guys are lying on the floor of his bedroom wearing the absolute bare minimum because it was so hot and humid out when you pitched the idea of going skinny dipping
James is hesitant at first because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable
But you insist that you’re fine and point out to him that it was you idea not his
Being the gentleman he is when you strip by the lake he looks away making you laugh
When you turn him to look at you his jaw drops
You’re even more gorgeous than he could’ve ever imagined
It's dark out but the light from the lake allows you to drink in your figure
He blushes so much you’d think that he was the one naked
When he does strip too he grabs you and jumps into the water, you guys are all over each other, running your hands up and down his chest, his hands are supporting your bum while your legs wrap around his waist
You have sex that night, for the first time, he was very gentle with you and holds your hand when he breaks you hymen and if you cry he kisses away your tears
“Do you wanna stop baby? Does it hurt too much? We can stop.”
James is one of two things depending on your preference
We have soft dom!James and sub!James
I personally appreciate a healthy mix of both
Starting with soft dom!James, he would be so gentle with you
Also very firm though, if you broke any of his rules he would not hesitate to punish you
He’s a thigh man through and through
Doesn’t matter if we’re talking dom or sub, the man lives for your thighs
Which makes his favorite form of punishment laying you across his lap to spank you, but most of the time his blows land on more of your thighs than they do your bum
He makes you count as he spanks you too and after every blow you have to thank him
“One! Thank you Daddy!”
And if you ever call him James instead of Daddy during sex he’ll stick his fingers in your mouth and make you choke on them, kissing away the tears that fall from your eyes, “S’okay baby, you’re okay. Can you do this for me? Can you take my fingers like the good girl I know you are?”
He loves taking you up against a wall, especially in the locker rooms after a Quidditch match
Shower sex is one of his favorites, thinks you look absolutely gorgeous, soaking wet and moaning for him, not to mention he get’s to fuck you up against the wall
This is the point in the headcanon where I urge you all to go read the blurbs by @randomoutsiders where Remus and Sirius teach James how to brat tame you, she captures his essence perfectly
He loves to blindfold you, he likes the little jump he gets out of you when he touches you
He gives you the most condescending mocking smiles
What comes to mind is the first time he makes you squirt, he’s so proud of both himself and you
“Good girl, look at that, look at how much of a mess you made for me angel. So pretty, good job.”
He then proceeds to lick the mess you just made off of you
He loves buying you lingerie
He likes it in a deep red and black
Loves ripping it off of you, absolutely adores it
After care with him would be so soft and sweet, he loves taking baths with you so he can clean you up and kiss all the places he left bruises while he murmurs to you about what a good girl you were and how proud he is of you
One night he tells you that if Godric forbid the two of you ever split up and you’re with someone else that after care is necessary and that you’re precious and deserved to be treated as such
He treats you like a goddess
Sub!James is just as precious
He’s also my current obsession so stick with me here
He’s just so eager to please, always wanting to make you feel good and not even caring all that much if he gets off himself
Just so centered around making you feel good
He calls you “Mommy” and I will not be accepting criticism
I feel like “Mistress” is too impersonal if that makes much sense
The former is just so intimate and James wears his heart out on his sleeve
James is rarely if ever a brat, usually when he’s disappointed in himself and he takes it out on you and you have to remind him how to be a good boy
And the rest of the time when he breaks a rule it's completely on accident and he’ll come to you and tell you about it to apologize
He feels so guilty, like he’s failed you
Especially if he touches himself without your permission, it's almost enough to keep him from doing it but he’s still a horny teenaged boy and can’t help himself sometimes
Most of the time though you’ll end up with a horny James knocking on your dorm door begging you to help him
He prefers giving you head than you giving him head
That’s not to say that the visual of you on your knees with his cock in your mouth isn’t appealing, it most certainly is
He just loves that he can make you feel that good with just his tongue
James also loves how you taste, tells you it’s better than candy
Which makes you smile like an idiot
Will finger you under the table in the library if you ask him to, it's not like he was paying that much attention to his homework in the first place, and even if he had been you are without a doubt more important
Loves it when you ride him
Absolutely adores it, he loves the way your tits bounce which is why he prefers cowgirl to reverse cowgirl because he can keep his hands on your tits and on your thighs
He asks you for a cock ring, loves that you get to decide when he gets to cum
Extra points if its a vibrating one
With his consent of course, you tie him up and make him watch while Sirius and Remus fuck the living day lights out of you, barely paying him any mind while you scream for the cocks of his two best friends
He likes being tied up in general allowed to look and only look
The first time you peg him he almost cries it feels so good
And you take his sniffling as a sign he doesn’t like it and that he’s hurt, he has to explain to you that that is not it and “You make me feel so good Mommy.”
His whimpers and moans are the most precious things and he’s very vocal
Screaming your name and begging you to cum
He is not shy to beg you
To make you cum
To get to so much as look at you
Baby boy has absolutely no shame
I especially like sub!James because he’s such a cocky asshole 90% of the time but he’s also the kindest, most considerate soul and he spends so much of his life helping others that sometimes he just wants you to be in control
Regardless of sub or dom James you were making out on his couch that summer, your hands in his hair, his fumbling with the clasp on your bra when there was a pounding at his front door
He makes you stay where you are because he doesn’t want you to get hurt but its just Sirius
Well not just Sirius
He was bloodied and broken and looked like he’d been to hell and back
When he told the two of you what happened, how he’d been disowned and had nowhere else to go, while Euphemia tended to his wounds James engulfed him into the biggest hug and they just sit there, Sirius crying into James’ chest while James ran his hands up and down Sirius’ back whispering to him about how it was going to be alright that he was safe, that no one was ever going to hurt him again.
About 2 or so hours after you’d all retired for the night, you and James snuggled together in his bed you awoke when the door to his room creaked open
There was Sirius, with tears streaming down his face, his bottom lip wobbling
After untangling yourself from James you walked over to him, taking his hand in yours and leading him over to the bed
“James, scooch over.”
When he opens his eyes and sees his Sirius standing there, bashfully ducking his head he quickly moves over and you and Sirius settle into the bed with him in the middle
You and James pet his hair hold his hands while you tell him how much the both of you love him and how you’re never going to let anything bad happen to him again
You fall asleep that night with James spooning Sirius from the back and you with your body curled into Sirius’s front, his head resting on your chest
When you go back to Hogwarts you often end up in this position in their dorm room only add Remus into the mix
You’re a year behind all of them at school meaning that when they graduate you’re still stuck their for a whole nother year without any of them
And it nearly kills all of you
You and James most, though you write to each other every day it's still not the same as him actually being there with you
When you get particularly desperate to see him he apparates to Hogsmeade where he becomes Prongs and meets you in the Forbidden Forest where you basically just spend the entire time holding each other and telling the other how much you love them
He cries at your graduation, full on blubbers
“That’s my girl!”
Insists that you look better in your graduation cap than anyone else
Doesn’t relent when you tell him how ridiculous that is
You guys move in together as soon as you graduate, it’s barely even a discussion because you guys can always tell what the other is thinking
“Hey babe, do you wanna-”
“Yeah Jamie, when you wanna go look at apartments?”
He loves going shopping for your apartment, he has so much fun looking at color swatches and different fabrics
He insists that you guys decorate at least part of the apartment in Gryffindor colors
Wolfstar lives down the street from you guys and you have biweekly coffee dates together at a little coffee shop in between your two houses.
After a year or so you realise that you and James still aren’t married, and you get very self conscious
Does he not want to spend the rest of his life with you?
Does he not love you as much as you love him?
It completely eats you up
And James can tell that something’s up
When he asks you you confess your worries to him and his heart breaks
He never wanted to make you feel like he didn’t love you
Because of course he loved you
You were his everything, you were his Sunshine
After telling you all of this he goes rummaging through his drawers looking for something
That’s how you find him when you wake up to him accidentally dropping something results in a loud bang
“Jamie? Are you okay?”
When you find him he’s standing bashfully, blushing with his head down, his hands holding something behind his back
And that’s when he gets down on one knee and pulls the small velvet box from behind his back
“This isn’t how I wanted to do it darling, but I spend every single day thinking about you, you’re the first thing I think of in the morning and I fall asleep with you in my arms thinking about how much I love you and how I don’t know if I could live my life without you. I’m so sorry if I’ve ever made you feel differently, I can’t believe I was enough of an idiot to ever hurt you, in any way. Even though I most certainly don’t deserve you, would you do me the honor of making me the happiest man alive and marrying me?”
Euphemia plans your wedding with the help of Sirius
They go all out
There may or may not be a life size ice sculpture of you and James per Sirius' request
Married life is absolute bliss for the two of you
You wake up every morning with that ring on your bedside table (do people sleep in their engagement rings and wedding bands? I’m a child of divorce whose parents are both children of divorce, true love is a foreign concept) to remind you of the beautiful man beside you
Both sub and dom James go absolutely wild on your wedding night, he can’t believe your Mrs. Potter, that your his
Its that night that you pregnant
Though you don’t know it for almost 2 months
James is the best husband
He carries you everywhere, even when you’re not showing
And he can because fuck that man is strong
He’ll carry you upstairs at night and down them in the morning and to the sofa
You can only move by yourself when he’s not looking
James is really good at puzzles and putting things together so it takes him less than 2 hours to put all the furniture together for the nursery
Which he insists you paint yellow, the color of sunshine
One of the first things he buys is a little Gryffindor onesie for your baby
When he comes James has him in it all of the time
When you go into labor he’s very calm and collected
Euphemia is there to help the both of you because that’s the person he first called when you had your first contraction
He holds your hand the entire time, kissing you, and coaching you along, telling you how good you’re doing, how proud he is of you
He cries when he first sees his son, he’s so beautiful
Even though he’s basically the spitting image of James, Jamie swears that he looks so much like you
Once the doctors and nurses leave the room he climbs into bed beside you, throwing and arm over your shoulder as you cradle your little boy in your arms
“He’s beautiful Jamie.”
“Just like his mother.”
tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax
Take Me Home | Part Two
Summary: Spencer swears he'll never let himself fall in love again.
Warnings: ANGST, break-ups, pregnancy terminology, giving birth, typical CM violence, involves season 11 plotlines of Dereks Abduction, Hotch's arrest and Spencer's trip to Mexico
word count: 4.8K
Part 2 of 3 | Masterlist
January 31st, 2016
She’s still rocking the same baby when her shift is coming to an end, parents come in and claim their children, taking them home to their own beds for the night. All but little Michael's mom, who was often late. But Y/N had no problem staying back with him, holding him in her arms and wondering if her baby would be half as cute as him.
“I’m here, sorry I’m late,” the blonde woman comes running in, “sorry, the plane didn’t get in on time.”
“Plane?” Y/N questions as she stands, passing a sleeping Michael over to his mother.
“I’m an FBI agent,” she shrugs it off. “We just wrapped a case in New Mexico and his dad’s with his brother at soccer practice.”
“Oh,” she wonders if she knows Spencer, but she doesn’t ask. “Well, he had fish fingers and mixed veggies for lunch and we had apple sauce for a snack, he did great for his 2 naps but he’s a bit fussy. I think his teeth are bothering him.”
“Oh no,” she pushes his little lips up to look at his gums, “yep, new choppers are on their way up. I’ll get his dad to pick up some ice cream when he picks up his brother.”
“Well, have a good night Mrs. LaMontagne,” she waves her off, excited to finally be done with the day.
“You too, Y/N,” she smiles. “Thanks for looking after him so well.”
“Anytime, he’s an angel,” Y/N smiles as she watches them walk out the door.
She texts Spencer as soon as she gets into her car, asking if he was home by any chance and if she could come to talk to him quickly. It takes him a few minutes to respond, but he says his door is always open for her.
She knows that’s not true.
She walks up the stairs to his apartment for the millionth time in the last year it seems, slowly, slower than normal, it feels like they put more stares in with how long it takes her to get to him. Scared to her core, shaking as she twists the doorknob.
“Hey,” he smiles, walking over to her with his arms open the way she did to him just a month ago.
She shakes her head and backs away, “don’t touch me, please.”
“Oh,” he stops dead in his tracks and backs away until he’s leaning against the couch. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to know if you are ever going to love me back because I can’t keep waiting… I can’t put my life on hold for someone who doesn’t give me what I deserve,” it’s harsher than she expected.
“I need to know that no matter what, you’ll be there for me too. Because so far it’s just me letting you unload all your shit on me, and me making your dinners, and Me putting myself second for you. But I can’t just keep thinking about you anymore, it’s more than that now.”
“What are you saying?”
“What if I got pregnant by accident? Would you feel inclined to love the kids the way they deserve or would you abandon them the way your dad did to you?” She says it in a hypothetical sense, to gauge his real reaction before telling him the truth.
“That was low,” he spits back and she knows her answer. “But thankfully I don’t have kids with you, if this is how selfish and childish you are— I can’t imagine how terrible they’ll be.”
She takes his key off her keyring and hands it to him. “Delete my number, don’t talk to me ever again.”
“Y/N?” He follows her out the door and watches her walk down the stairs, ignoring him as he hands over the railing. “You said you wouldn’t do this?”
“Have you ever said something that you wish you could take back?” She cries up at him. “If I knew how self-centred and cruel you would be, I wouldn’t have said ever that to you. Fuck you, Spencer.”
She rushes down the stairs, wiping the tears off her face and running to her car. Sobbing into the steering wheel, punching the leather interior and wishing it didn’t end like this.
He waited patiently in a restaurant for a date he didn’t really want to go on. However, it was his job to do things that made him uncomfortable.
Cathrine Adams, or Miss .45, has been a part of the group of assassins hunting Penelope, adding to the stress Spencer was under. He developed a plan, with Hotch’s approval, to take the assassin out on a date in order to arrange a deal. He would ask her to murder his pregnant wife and arrest her before she can kill Spencer in revenge.
Her father killed her mother when she was a child, he abused her and thus she grew up killing without compassion or remorse. She’s killed 36 men just like her father, and God knows who else. Spencer knew this would get her, she couldn’t say no to a client as sleazy as Spencer was playing.
And when she called him out, from researching him before the date, he would use her weak spot against her. Her father.
Daddy issues are something Spencer can relate to, something he knows that rules a large part of his self-worth. His issues with his father, and his mother for that fact, push him to do better than either of them expected for him. He knows he has a deep need to be loved and cared for while being afraid that they’ll leave because his father left without ever loving him and his mother tried… she tried so hard but she wasn’t always going to remember how to love him.
Cat on the other hand, with the absence of her mother and the wrong sort of love from her father… she grew up incapable of feeling anything. Her brain compartmentalized, moving her feelings so deep into the background that they just died off. Leaving her to become one of the most sophisticated female psychopaths Spencer’s ever had to research and fool.
It was easier than he thought, lying about wanting his pregnant wife dead after the events that happened with Y/N just a week prior. He still couldn’t believe she ended things over a fake baby… and now that same fake baby is going to get her fake murdered.
Cat didn’t buy it, “you’ve definitely dated someone who got pregnant with this level of emotion you’re giving me… it’s truly Emmy worthy but I know you’re not married. You’re doctor Spencer Reid with the behavioural analysis unit of the FBI.”
And thus the game began.
It’s a long game, 2/4 of his backup is caught. He has a gun pointed at his crotch so even if he wanted kids one day, she was going to make sure he never had any. And she kept pestering him to know more about his mother. Making him admit that she has Alzheimer's to the team as they listen in on Comms.
She fucks up his plan when she brings the bomber along with her, planting a bomb in the restaurant in an attempt to ensure that she left safely. And as much as she tried to push away her daddy issues and prove that she’s more than that, his plan still works.
She can’t say no to getting to see her dad one last time.
That’s where they’re different. If he never saw his dad again, it would be a day too soon.
March 21st, 2016
Deciding if she wanted to keep the baby was one of the hardest choices in the world. As much as it would hurt to see Spencer's face in this little person, she’s always wanted to be a mom.
She wanted to keep it a secret for as long as possible, which was around 9 weeks… and then she started getting huge and she was sick constantly. It was so much more than she ever anticipated, and everyone she worked with knew.
She had a blood test to confirm it early on, waiting 4 long weeks for another one, and she wouldn’t even get to see the baby until week 12 by the time she could get an appointment. It was annoying, but she was excited to see them.
After her second blood test, she brought the paperwork in with her to work for heather to look at. Heather was more knowledgeable on the kid front, having 5 of her own kids at home. She bites her lip as she reads it, holding something back that makes Y/N worry.
“Is it possible that you’re more than 9 weeks right now?”
She shrugs, “yeah why?”
“Your hCG levels are so high, it’s possible you’re either more pregnant than you realize… or…”
“Or what?” Y/N panicked.
“There might be two in there,” she hesitates on the words but they slip out eventually.
She buries her face in her hands once more, “I can’t,” she panics, shaking her head. “I’m barely ready for one alone— I cant do twins alone?!”
“It’ll be okay,” Heather wraps her arms around her. “I’ve already told Candace, she said you can move in with us for a bit if you need help. We’re both here for you.”
“I still have to tell my family,” she whispers. “I’m sure my mom would fly out and help.”
“Yeah,” Heather agreed, still rubbing her back. “See? It’s all going to work out in the end.”
She really wished it was Spencer telling her those words.
September 4th, 2016
She’s absolutely huge the next time she sees Mrs. LaMontagne. “Oh wow,” she stops to look at her belly. “Were you pregnant the last time I saw you?”
She nods, “didn’t know it was twins back then.” She accompanies it with an awkward laugh, wondering how Spencer’s doing but not wanting her to know she knows him. “How’s work, everything good at the FBI?”
She shrugs, waiting for Mickey to finish up what he was doing in the toddler room, “as good as it can be. We’re one man down, my co-workers going through some personal stuff with his mom so he left and the unit just doesn’t work the same without him.”
“Oh no,” she pretends to not know who she’s talking about. But she knows. “Is his mom okay?”
She shakes her head, “no she’s just moved in with him again for the first time since he was a teenager… she has Alzheimer’s, and it’s not easy on him at all.”
“I bet,” she sighs, rubbing her belly and wondering if the babies in her belly will ever meet their grandma.
“How are you doing? I can’t imagine being that far along with twins,” JJ shakes her head.
Y/N laughs it off, “it’s so uncomfortable. We have possibly 7 weeks left… I doubt I’ll go that long. I still don’t have a name or anything…”
“Do you know what you’re having yet?”
“One of each,” she smiles, “I have a lot of girl stuff from my co-worker, but I’m not ready on the boy front.”
“I don’t plan on having any more if you’d like Henry and Michaels old stuff? They’re both fall babies so they should be perfect size-wise for you and I have no need for all his baby stuff anymore.”
“Seriously?” Her mind is blown, “that’s so kind? Thank you.”
JJ waves it off, “it’s no problem, I’m sure you and your partner need all the help you can get.”
“It’s just me,” she corrects her.
JJ’s eyes widen, “Oh honey, okay well, give me your address and I’ll bring some stuff over this weekend. Do you need any help getting ready for them?”
“I have two cribs, a million diapers and a few friends willing to help with anything else,” she explains with a smile. “Thank you, I really appreciate the offer.”
“You watch my son all day for me, it’s the least I can do,” she smiles, scooping Micheal up as he runs back to her. “Say goodbye to Miss Y/N.”
“Bye,” Mikey waves at her.
“See ya on Monday, buddy,” she smiles back. “And I have your cell on his file, I can just text you my information?”
“Sounds good to me,” JJ smiles. “Call me if you ever need anything, I mean it.”
“I will,” she nods, knowing she probably won't. “Thanks again.”
JJ doesn’t end up coming to see her, instead, asking if she would come and watch the boys while her team had an emergency. She couldn’t say no, and so JJ picked her up and brought her to her house. Her very large, very expensive FBI agent salary worthy, home.
And she suddenly wished Spencer knew about the kids so they could have this too. Not whatever she managed to scrounge up.
Henry is a sweetheart, he helps her as best as he can, remembering what it was like when his mom was that pregnant with Michael. They are easy and sweet, they love to play together and Henry reads Michael a book before bed, it’s the sweetest thing in the whole world… and soon she’d have her own little sweethearts.
She anxiously sat in JJ’s living room after the boys had gone to bed, heavily pregnant and scared out of her mind that Spencer would come back with her for some reason and find out this way. Will gets home first, offering to help her get home but she’d rather wait for JJ.
And she’s glad she did.
JJ comes in with a big smile on her face and her phone in her hand, “do you want to see the cutest baby in the world?”
“Absolutely,” Y/N smiles.
JJ hands her the cellphone, and the first photo she sees is of JJ beside Spencer as he holds a tiny little baby. “His name is Hank, he’s my friend Derek’s son. They just had him tonight.”
She clears her throat, feeling emotional over Spencer’s smile. It’s been too long since she’s seen it. “He’s beautiful,” she whispers through the tears. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” JJ rubs her back. “You’ve done so much today, let me get you home.”
“Thanks,” she grabs her things and follows JJ out the door. “Your boys are the best, I had a really good day with them.”
JJ helps her into the passenger seat and smiles at her after, “thank you, I’ve worried that I don’t spend enough time with them to make them good boys… with everything I see I know how easy it is for a boy to hate his mom for not being there for him—
“They love you,” Y/N assures her. “And they told me they love your life… they can’t wait to meet their cousin soon.”
“If you want,” JJ’s voice changes and her shoulders rise, “your kids are more than welcome to call my kids their cousins? They’re going to need some friends.”
She nods, “that would be nice.”
JJ gets into the passenger seat and starts to drive her home, it’s silent for most of the drive before JJ asks. “Can I ask who the father is?”
“Do I look at all familiar to you, outside of the YMCA?” She counters.
JJ looks at her quickly, then back to the road, “a little?”
“I went home with Spencer in 2014…”
JJ pulls over. “You’re fucking kidding me?”
She shakes her head. “Don’t be mad… he— he’s a fucking asshole who told me he could never love me and that he never wants to have kids with me cause they’ll end up terrible.”
JJ’s eyes widen, “Spencer Reid said that to you?”
She nods, “in January… right after his mom's meds started getting fucked up. Before you told me that he took a break?”
“So… they’re his?” JJ asks carefully. “And he knows?”
“No, he doesn’t know. I asked him in the hypothetical sense if he’d be able to love our kids one day since he can't love me… and- and he said no,” she cries. “He warned me that he wasn’t in a place to love, not since Maeve and—
“He told me that he wants to be a dad more than anything? I can’t believe he would say that to you… I mean I know how mean he can be when he’s going through a lot but that’s so mean?” JJ agrees with her.
“I just want to go home,” she whispers. Done with the day and ready to sleep until Monday.
“Yeah,” JJ puts the car back into drive. “I meant what I said, I’m going to be here for you. Regardless of who the dad is.”
October 28th, 2016
She squeezes her mom's hand so hard that she breaks all the blood vessels in her hand. Heather is on the other side of her bed, holding her leg up while she pushes through another contraction. The pain is unimaginable, she’s pushing through it fine until she breaks. Thinking about Spencer and how badly she wished he could be there.
The doctor between her legs looks up at her with a smile hidden by his mask, his eyes gleaming instead. “Look down, Y/N, it’s time to meet baby A.”
She looks while pushing, shocked that she can actually do it. Experiencing the wonders of childbirth as her children come out back to back and join the world.
Soon enough, she has two healthy babies laying on her chest, wrapped in blankets and topped with matching hats, her babies.
“Hi,” she whispers to them, tears streaming down her face. “I love you guys. I’m never going to be afraid to love you, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”
“Do we have any names yet,” her mom asked in a whisper, wiping her tears off her face as she looked down at her grandchildren.
“Parker and Twila,” she whispers.
“Are you going to tell him?” Heather asks, watching her stare at her babies and take it all in.
Her little babies are perfect. Twila is just a bit bigger than her brother, they both latch well and sleep okay as long as they’re together. They have a bond that melts her heart, they stop crying as soon as they’re close to each other and the grip Parker has on her is remarkable.
And then his words reply in her mind, “thankfully I don’t have kids with you— I can’t imagine how terrible they’ll be.”
She never wanted him around them. She shakes her head with a sigh, “no.”
And they do look a little like Spencer. They have his nose and the same scrunched thinking face. She watches them grow little by little over the 3 days in the hospital, she’s overwhelmed with the help and able to sleep a bit before having to go home alone… but every time she looks at them she thinks about calling him.
But she wants to.
He’s just started planning his first trip to Mexico when Hotch gets arrested at gunpoint. As if things couldn’t get worse… first he lost Y/N— which did come in handy for his meeting with Cat Adams. Pretending he wanted his pregnant wife dead was a simple act to play when she left him over a hypothetical child he would have actually wanted.
Then his mom’s Alzheimer's got worse, he moved her to Texas where she received a placebo for her Alzheimer's which messed with her schizophrenia meds sending her into a full panic that resulted in her moving in with him. Again.
Derek almost fucking died and then left the Unit, at least he had a son and a wife and a truly happy life finally. One Spencer envied but he knew it was what Derek deserved. Out of all of them, Derek getting a happily ever after felt the most right… but he missed his friend.
And now Hotch was in custody after he, Jack, JJ and Henry were held at gunpoint in his apartment that morning.
At least now he gets a hug from his godson’s and a distraction from the truth to learn about superheroes from his favourite little guy. Pretending that everything was okay, nothing could possibly get worse.
“Hey, Spence,” JJ’s voice interrupts. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”
“what’s up?” He stands, patting Henry's shoulder as he passes him, “is Hotch alright?”
She nods, “so their babysitter knows you apparently… and she hates you. So, uh, when she gets here, just don’t talk to her. Please?”
It’s a lot to take in, he shakes his head and squints, “who?”
“Are you fucking kidding?” He swears loud enough for Henry and Jack to turn to the door in shock. Uncle Spence never swears.
JJ is alarmed by his response as well, “no?”
“She’s the girl from the bar on my birthday in 2014…”
“I know,” JJ says, “we’re friends. She gave me the rundown. Just— she’s right for being mad at you, and I don’t want you to fuck up my child care situation because you’re an asshole, Okay?”
“Did she tell you how she promised to be okay with the fact I’m incapable of loving her?”
“No you’re not, you’re incapable of being a genius when it comes to women. You hurt her, you sucked the love out of her and then told her having kids with her would be terrible. That’s not the Spencer Reid I know,” JJ fights back. “Get your head out of your fucking ass and realize that the world doesn’t revolve around you.”
She storms out of the room, leaving him there with his thoughts. She too had been through enough today, playing human shield for her son in Hotch’s apartment that morning would leave her on edge.
He fucked her over, he used her and he did in fact suck the love out of her while giving her nothing in return. He hurt her, pushing his pain onto her, unloading his trauma as if she was his therapist who also had sex with him.
It wasn’t fair to her, but he couldn’t apologize. Not yet. Now all he could do is hide in JJ’s old office, leaned against a stack of files as he pulled the hair tie on his wrist. Snapping it against his skin to feel something. A pain he thought he deserved.
She leaves Parker and Twila with her mom for the 5 hours that she offered to watch JJ's boys, Will had to work and they didn’t feel safe leaving the kids with anyone else after they were held at gunpoint. She understood but she had one condition. Spencer wasn’t allowed to talk to her at all while she was there.
But she saw him anyway. His hair was longer, he was in his classic sweater and dress shirt combo, he awkwardly smiled at her and it made her heart hurt. Maybe it was the fact she hadn’t seen her kids, or her boobs were just too full… because she was sure she was over him. In love with her little family and not with him anymore.
But then Henry asked for him. She was just holding Michael in her arms,
“He’s not here, bud,” she explains. “He’s gone to find the guy who called SWAT on Jack's dad.”
“Why do you hate him?” He asks innocently.
“How do you know that?” He gets scared then, “oh no, I’m sorry buddy, it’s okay that you know. I dated your uncle Spencer and he broke my heart.”
“Really?” He opens back up, coming to sit beside her and Michael, and even Jack looks like he’s listening in.
She nods, “you know how it takes Iron Man a really long time to admit that he’s in love with Pepper?”
They both nod, “did uncle Spencer not love you back?”
“Nope,” she shrugs. “But that’s okay, I’ve always thought Captain America was more handsome anyway.”
It makes them laugh, and then the topic moves into super hero’s where she's able to tell them all the facts she knows while they think she’s just the coolest. Forgetting all about uncle Spencer, the way she was supposed to.
He follows her down the hall and towards the elevator, sliding in right before the doors close, and she’s pissed. “I’m an idiot.”
“Yes,” she agrees. “I know.”
She’s so different and he can’t quite place it, something about her has changed and he wishes he was there to watch it happen. “I miss you—
“No,” she cuts him off. “I don’t care. I gave too much of myself to you and I can’t do that anymore.”
“What if I said I was changed? I’m still going through a lot but I know that I can’t control everything, and the world doesn’t revolve around me and you Do deserve love and kindness and all the good things because you’re amazing,” he rants, hoping that something sounds appealing to her. “I don’t just miss my fuck buddy… I miss my best friend and the person who I’m pretty sure was the love of my life. I was just too stupid to see it.”
“I fucking hate you,” she cries. “You couldn’t have told me that before?”
“You told me not to call you,” he reminds her.
“I was pregnant,” she whispers.
He’s so shocked he turns white as a ghost.
“But I don’t want you around them,” she adds. “I can’t let you in unless I can trust you mean it. You have to make it up to me, better than just saying you’re an idiot.”
The last conversation they had played at full volume in his mind, her hypothetical question was real. She had his baby… that’s why his comment hurt her so much. Something he said in the heat of the moment; something that he would never mean, it ruined everything.
“Let me take you home,” he offers. “I won't come in, but let me make sure you get home okay?”
“You barely drive,” she replies. “And I drove here?”
“So let me drive you home and I’ll take the subway back to mine, I don’t care, just let me talk to you some more?” He begs.
She sighs, “fine.” She reaches past him to hit the button for the garage, “how’s your mom?”
He smiles, feeling like he’s already got his favourite person back, but he knows it’s not going to be this easy. “She’s not doing good.”
He shrugs, “I’m actually going to Mexico in a few days to get her some new medicine… it’s not illegal or anything I just have to meet the special holistic doctor at her practice in Mexico, even though she lives in the states.”
“Oh,” she follows along. “She’s living with you now, right? JJ told me back in September.”
“Did she know the whole time?” He wonders as the doors open.
She shakes her head and walks into the garage, “not that they were yours.” Digging her keys out of her purse, “I told her you were their father the night Hank was born.”
She tosses them to him and that’s when he sees it.
Two car seats in the back of her car.
“You’re saying them because you had twins?”
She nods, “Parker and Twila.”
“I’m genuinely so sorry,” he can’t believe it. Pressing his whole weight against her car door as he looks at her over the roof. “You had twins all alone… you should have told me even if you didn’t want me around I could have helped in some way?”
“I didn’t want your help,” she’s not a good liar.
He gets in the car anyway, sitting closer to her so he can look at her face up close and see the hurt he left in person. “I’ve always wanted to be a dad, I just also wanted to be a dick and hurt you that day. It’s inexcusable what I said to you and I understand how it hurt. I’m sorry.”
“I know you are,” she whispers back. “But how do I know you mean it and you don’t just want the kids?”
“Watching my mom deteriorate and realizing how I’ve never really put myself first until I met you made me realize that I do have the capability to be loved, why can’t I love you the way you deserve? And I’ve thought about it a lot… believe me, I have spent too many nights alone in the last 10 months wishing I was capable of telling you before it was too late.”
“That still doesn’t explain to me why you couldn’t say it, even with Maeve dying… I don’t get it?” She cries. “I don’t think I ever will get it, and unless you can live with me always being a little mad at you, I don’t know if I can start this again.”
“I was afraid that if I told you that I love you, that you would either leave me cause you got bored or because you died… that’s how people leave me. They’re bored or they’re dead, and I didn’t want to lose another person but I lost you anyway,” he lets himself cry, honesty pouring out of him as he looks over at her.
“When you get back from Mexico, maybe we can go on a real date and start fresh?” She offers. “And then eventually down the line, you can meet the kids. I just don’t want them to know you if you’re going to leave again.”
“Understandable,” he nods, “thank you.”
“Take me home, Spence.”
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Do you have anything where Yoongi helps you get over your ex? For no particular reason 😔
'ghost' (but it's kind of a specific situation)
'casual' (but it's from Yoongi's POV)
summary: You borrow Min Yoongi's vacuum because you had a mental breakdown and then you give it back.
"The fuck is this?"
You made a face at him. "It's not my birthday."
He shrugged. You inspected the small, unmarked black box, and shrugged, opening it. Raised your eyebrows.
"... Why did you give me a vibrator?"
"You've been lookin' real fucking sad and I'm tired of it. And it's a clitoral massager, not just a vibrator."
You stared at him.
Min Yoongi stared back. Face neutral. Unbothered.
His black hair was still messy and half of it was sticking up from sleep. At least one of you was getting a good night's sleep. Or midday sleep, because it was already late afternoon when you had arrived at your next-door neighbor’s apartment, dragging his vacuum you had borrowed because maybe you had a mammoth of a breakdown that consisted of throwing things around your apartment, including yourself, breaking stuff, tearing up pictures, too much crying, and a lengthy time of staring at the ceiling.
After what seemed like years, you managed to clean yourself up and muster up the courage to ask your next-door neighbor if you could borrow his vacuum. You didn’t own anything except a small handheld one and that wasn’t going to cut it for amount of uncooked rice scattered across on your kitchen floor at the time.
“Yeah, sure, here.”
And Min Yoongi handed you his incredibly swanky, top of the line, dark silver SAMSUNG cordless stick vacuum.
“Here, take the extra battery too. In case you need it.”
“Do you have carpet? There’s a better brush head for carpet.”
“N-No… Just the tile and hardwood…”
“Hm, okay. Enjoy.”
It was the whole breakup thing.
Sometimes you would think, I’m fine, I’m good, I don’t need anyone, sometime sit would be, fuck, I can’t do anything, I’m so fucking useless, what’s the point, sometimes it was, I hate this, I hate myself, fuck everything, sometimes it was numb, I don’t want to feel anything, I don’t want to be here, sometimes it was sadness, what’s wrong with me, what did I do, why wasn’t I enough, when will I be enough, and sometimes it was a complete mammoth of a breakdown and you cried and cried and cried and threw handfuls of uncooked rice at your own kitchen cabinets, sobbing, I’m never going to get married, no one is going to throw rice at my wedding because I don’t deserve to get married and this is the best it’s gonna get, fuck this, just do it your-own-fucking-self, no one will ever want to be with you so throw your own rice, you stupid bitch.
It was not rational you had thought as you stood in the shower and practically drowned yourself under the showerhead.
But life goes on.
And you needed to borrow a vacuum.
Only to be handed one of the sexiest vacuums that you ever had the pleasure to use. Efficient, powerful, super quick and easy to maneuver. Took you no time at all to clean your kitchen. You didn’t want to give it back. You vacuumed your whole damn house, searching for nooks and crannies that could possibly be cleaned by this beast of a machine just so you could experience it some more. Just so you could be with the vacuum some more, admire its majesty.
Maybe you were losing your mind.
Yes, maybe you were losing your mind because you were falling in love with Min Yoongi’s vacuum. Or maybe it was just that you had lost all faith in humanity and a fleeting attachment to a vacuum was how your brain was coping with the situation. Maybe a bit self destructive because you knew you had to give it back. Maybe that was your thing, relationships that didn’t last.
Anyway, you gave the vacuum back.
And Yoongi handed you an unmarked box.
With a vibrator in it.
Sorry, clitoral massager.
“Are you waiting for a live, in-person demonstration, because you will be disappointed by the unfortunate news,” Yoongi commented blandly as if he was talking about the weather. “The manual is in the box.”
You were unsure to be embarrassed, shocked, appalled, disgusted, or something else, so you just stood there, frozen.
“Heard masturbation assists mood improvement and mental health,” he hummed, leaning back against his sofa. “Also, these walls are thinner than you think and I can hear what you’re saying in the kitchen if you are yelling.”
No, yup, you were embarrassed.
“I’m… sorry…” you managed to croak out.
Yoongi shrugged. His voice deepened, gentler, turning his head to look at you from the side as he spoke. “Happens to all of us. Hurts when you give them the best of you and it somehow wasn’t enough.”
You looked into those sleepy brown eyes covered in black strands.
A very strange feeling, a heaviness that you suddenly wanted to share.
“Maybe I… don’t know how to love right or something…”
He frowned at you, perturbed.
“That only means they weren’t the right one to love you.”
You gazed at him helplessly.
“Do you believe in soulmates?”
Yoongi tilted his head. “Soulmates?” He said the word slowly, considering it. Then he said something strange.
“You make your soulmate.”
You blinked, confused. “What?”
He smiled at you, and Min Yoongi had a lovely smile.
“Love is learning. Love is doing the things you know the other person likes, love is the small moments that you take a little extra time to do something special for the other person, love is realizing something that you don’t like doing suddenly isn’t so bothersome anymore because it’s for the person you love. Love is becoming their soulmate and love is when they want to become yours, when they want to learn everything about you because they want nothing more than to become your person.”
The strangest feeling.
A lightness hearing his words.
You didn’t know what else to say, blown away by his wisdom.
A full five seconds past.
Yoongi cocked his head to your hand.
“But you need the vibrator. It’s a better stress reliver than screaming and throwing things around.”
You felt your face turn ten million degrees. “Y-You didn’t have to…!”
Yoongi held up a hand, silencing you. “It’s as much for me as for you.”
He smirked, open-mouthed and teasing.
“My ears better be hearing much more pleasant sounds from now on.”
The "birthday cake" response refers to a song called Birthday Cake by the artist BIBI. This song is not knowing your own worth and slowly letting go of it bit by bit, about the hardships of life and the feeling of them being too difficult to bear, about wanting to give up because you know that even if you overcome one hurdle, another will come. The subject of the song gets her birthday cake, but "couldn't allow myself to lose it" so she keeps her birthday cake in her closet instead of eating it and enjoying it.
It foreshadows that the reader did, in fact, "lose it".
But it wasn't the end, now, was it?
(but also it's kinda funny because she is probably gonna put the sex toy in the closet to hide it *snicker* yes I thought about that too)
drabbles masterpost | masterpost
Fatherhood. | Oscar “Spooky” Diaz
A/N: it’s been over a month since I’ve written something for Oscar that wasn’t a request😩 my sad eyes fic always inspired me to write daddy spooky🥺
Word count: 2456
POC reader always🧚🏽
Summary: Oscar is struggling to adapt to fatherhood...
not my gif / credit to @thesewickedhands 💗
After practically all day alone with your 3-month-old daughter, Oscar finally walked through the front door. “Shh!” You hissed when he closed the door too loudly for your liking. It nearly took an hour to get your daughter down and you’d be damned if Oscar woke her up.
“My bad,” Oscar mouthed before going over to you. He kissed you before leaning down and placing a kiss on Maya’s forehead, too. You attempted to transfer her into Oscar’s arms, but he tensed up and hesitated.
“I’m about to shower. I’ll get her after,” He whispered, but you shook your head.
“No, I’m about to shower. I haven’t showered in days and I smell like a dumpster.” You hated to say it, but you felt like you were doing it alone. You would have never guessed things would be the way they were by how your pregnancy was.
Oscar was there for everything. He held you and talked to your unborn child in your womb every night. Anything you needed, you didn’t have to ask twice. Now that your daughter was actually here, that all changed. Oscar couldn’t be bothered to be home more than a few hours at a time, and when he was, it was almost like he wanted nothing to do with your daughter, and that hurt you.
You handed your sleeping baby off to Oscar carefully before going to the bathroom to start the shower. Oscar leaned back onto the couch and looked into his daughter’s face, it felt like he was looking into his own.
An overwhelming feeling of anxiety took him over. He always felt that way when he was alone with her. She was so tiny and fragile and he felt like he was too rough and hard to handle someone so pure.
Oscar loved that little girl with everything in him, but his doubts about himself kept him from being the father he aspired to be. He had no idea what he was doing, and he didn’t have the best example of a father growing up. Ray was more of a houseguest than a father when he was around.
Maya started stirring in Oscar’s arms, it’s like she knew she wasn’t being held by her mother anymore. Her little brown eyes cracked open and the room was filled with her hiccuping cries.
“Shh, it’s okay, mamas. It’s just me,” Oscar attempted to bounce her the way he’d seen you do so many times, but that only seemed to upset her, more. He might as well had been a stranger.
“Fuck,” Oscar muttered as he looked around, not knowing what to do. He spotted her bottle on the table and tried to give it to her, but she turned her head every time he tried to get the tip of the bottle into her mouth.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong,” He felt like a failure. He couldn’t even get his daughter to stop crying.
His phone vibrated with a text that only contained a location and a time. He knew it was from the head of the Santos. For once, he was glad to hear from Cuchillos.
You groaned when you heard your daughter's cries grow increasingly louder as Oscar approached the bathroom with her in his arms. “Baby,” Oscar knocked on the door with his free hand, “I gotta go!”
You cut the shower off and stepped out, pulling on your robe. “What do you mean you gotta go? You just got home!” You opened the door to see Oscar standing there with a guilty look on his face.
“I know, I’m sorry. I gotta take care of something for the Santos and I’ll be right back,”
“Oscar, please. I’m exhausted and I really need tonight to myself,” You said on the verge of tears.
“I know, I’m really sorry. I promise I’ll be back soon.”
You took your daughter from Oscar and her cries immediately subsided. Oscar thought he felt bad earlier, but now, he felt even worse.
By some miracle, your daughter slept for almost 4 hours straight, which gave you the longest streak of sleep you’d gotten since she was born. It didn’t last as long as you wanted it to, though. Her cries echoed through the baby monitor set on your nightstand.
“Oscar, can you please get her?” You mumbled without opening your eyes. You assumed he was asleep, too, until you turned over and you were met with his cold side of the bed.
“Of course he’s gone,” You sighed before going to get your daughter. You recognized her cry as a hungry one, so you pulled up your shirt and began feeding her. After settling into the rocking chair in her room, you pulled out your phone to call Oscar. It was nearing 4 in the morning and you were beginning to worry. You hadn’t even gotten a text from him since he left.
After going to voicemail three times in a row, you accepted that he wasn’t going to answer his phone. So, you called Sad Eyes next.
“Hello?” He grumbled into the phone after just one ring. You could tell you woke him up and you felt terrible about it.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Oscar’s not answering his phone and I thought maybe he was still with you.”
Sad Eyes was entirely too tired to lie for his friend, “I ain’t seen him in hours. We finished handling that thing for Cuchillos hours ago.”
You scoffed and shook your head. “That’s all I needed to know.” You hung up the phone before Sad Eyes could hear you crying. It was becoming painfully obvious that Oscar didn’t want to be a father, and you refused to stick around and wait for him to walk out on you and your daughter.
Across town, Oscar sat at a bar knocking back another shot. He slammed his shot glass down and slid it to join the other empty ones.
In his drunken state, he called someone he’d never speak to if he were sober.
Ray walked into the bar and immediately spotted his son. “I’ll take a beer. Whatever you have on tap is fine,” He said to the bartender as he lowered himself on the stool next to his son.
“Long time no see,” The last time Ray saw his son was when Oscar kicked him to the curb about a year ago.
“How’s Bakersfield?” Oscar grumbled, not that he actually cared. He was making small talk because he didn’t know how to bring up the conversation he wanted to have with his father.
“It’s good. Why’d you call me, mijo?” Ray knew Oscar didn’t make him drive over an hour to talk about Bakersfield.
“Because I’m scared I’m gonna be a shitty dad to my daughter the way you were to me and Cesar.”
Ray was used to Oscar’s brutal honesty. He couldn’t even be upset, he knew he wasn’t a good father to his sons. “You knocked up (YN)?”
Oscar pulled up a picture of Maya on his phone and slid it to Ray.
“She’s beautiful. What’s her name?”
“Maya,” Ray whispered as he admired the picture of his only grandchild.
“Is there a reason you’re at a bar at 4 in the morning instead of at home with your girls?”
“I’m scared I’m gonna fuck that little girl up. I don’t know the first thing about being a father and she shouldn’t have to suffer because of that.”
“So what’s the alternative, huh? You’re just gonna walk away? Let (YN) do it alone or let some other man raise her?”
Oscar shrugged, “Maybe it’ll be better that way.”
“You’re drunk, you don’t mean that. I didn’t know shit about being a dad either, and I let that fear keep me away from you and Cesar. I regret not being there for you boys every fucking day. You’re a better man than me, Oscar. You’re smarter than me. You’re already a better father than me. If you’re really scared that you’ll be a shitty dad, then don’t be one.”
Oscar nodded his head and a single year escaped his eye. The last thing he wanted was for Maya to grow up feeling unloved by her father the way he did.
Ray had a lot of failures as a father, but he finally felt like he did something right. “Come on, let’s get you sobered up and home to your girls.”
After breakfast and coffee at a diner, Oscar finally convinced Ray that he was sober enough to drive himself home. The sun was up by the time he pulled into the driveway.
Inside, you were in the middle of packing a suitcase. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you turned and saw Oscar standing in the doorway of your bedroom. Your plan was to be gone by the time he got home.
“Why are you packing?” Oscar asked, not wanting to believe what he was seeing.
“I’m going to my mom’s. I can’t keep doing this by myself, I feel like a single mother. If you don’t want to be a father, I can’t force you to,” You were trying your best to hold back your tears, but you couldn’t. Tears stains marked the latest clothes to be added to your suitcase.
Oscar walked over to you and took Maya’s onesie out of your hands and set it aside. “I do want to be a father. I know I haven’t been acting like it, but I do. I was so scared that I was going to mess up that I really let myself believe that Maya would be better off without me.”
“How could you think that?”
“Fear makes you believe crazy things. I’m here, and I’m always gonna be here for you and Maya.” Oscar brought your hands to his lips and kissed them. “I’m so sorry I made you think otherwise.”
“Anybody can say words Oscar, I need to see it for myself.” You weren’t letting him off the hook that easily, especially after the stunt he pulled the night before.
“Let me show you how serious I am,” Oscar zipped up your suitcase and set it by the door. “What are you doing?”
“You’re gonna spend the weekend at your mom’s, and I’m gonna stay here with Maya. You deserve a break.”
You laughed and shook your head, “Baby, that’s sweet and I appreciate the gesture but are you sure about this?”
“I am. How else am I going to learn?”
As unsure as you were about Oscar’s proposition, the idea of being able to sleep and be unbothered for two days straight was too tempting to pass up.
“I have some breast milk fridge, it’s already pre-measured,”
“Okay.“ Oscar nodded as he walked you to the door.
“Oh! And make sure it’s not too hot when you warm it up. Just dab a bit on the back of your hand to test it.”
“Another thing," You said with your finger in the air, "Make sure you don’t-“
“Don’t put her down to sleep until she’s been burped, I know,” Oscar assured you as he pushed you towards the front door.
“One last thing and I swear I’ll leave,” You said as Oscar opened your car door. “She’ll probably freak out when she wakes up and I’m not there so just wrap her up in my robe, it smells like me.”
“Robe, got it. Drive safe, alright? I love you.”
“I love you,” You said as you pecked his lips, “You got this.”
“I got this,” Oscar repeated, praying that he did.
After watching you disappear down the street, Oscar returned inside and peeked his head inside Maya's room. She was sleeping peacefully on her back. Oscar quietly backed out and decided to get some housework done while he could. He knew you’d appreciate coming back to a clean house.
Oscar was able to complete a few loads of laundry and cleaned the kitchen before Maya woke up.
Just as you predicted, waking up to Oscar and not you send her into a fit. Oscar bounced her in his arms trying to calm her, but nothing he did worked.
“I got something for you, Maya. You want mama’s robe?” Oscar asked enthusiastically when he remembered what you told him.
He walked over to your shared bedroom to get your robe, but it wasn’t there. After checking the bathroom, he realized where it was.
Oscar opened the dryer to see your robe mixed in with the rest of the clothes. There was no use in giving it to Maya because it didn’t smell like you anymore. “Shit,” Oscar slammed the door shut in frustration, which only made Maya cry harder.
“I’m sorry, mamas. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Oscar mumbled as he stroked her head.
After trying to feed her, change her, and even googling “How to get a baby to stop crying,” Oscar gave up and called you. Unfortunately for him, you didn’t pick up.
“Looks like we’re going for a ride,” He sighed.
He strapped Maya in and double-checked to make sure her car seat was secure before getting into the driver's side. “Don’t worry Maya, I’ll get you to mama fast, but not too fast,” He said as he pulled out in the direction of your mom’s house.
About 5 minutes into the ride, Maya’s cries started to whine down into soft whimpers until she was completely silent. Oscar thought she cried herself to sleep until he checked his mirror and saw she was completely fine.
“So you like car rides,” He thought out loud. Instead of going to your mom’s house like he originally planned to, he passed her house up and continued driving Maya around the neighborhood.
“See that big old school, Maya? That’s where daddy went to middle school. I used to raise all kinds of hell there.” Maya giggled in response, recognizing when she was called by her name.
Oscar continued giving Maya her own personal tour of Free Ridge until they made it back home. He was taking Maya out of her car seat when you called him back.
“Hey, is everything okay? I was sleeping when you called?” You spoke into the phone nervously.
“No, we’re good. Right, Maya?” Maya gave him the biggest, cutest, toothless smile he’s ever seen. Seeing that made him feel like his heart was melting in his chest.
Oscar felt a sense of pride knowing that he was capable of taking care of his daughter on his own. He also had a backup plan in case she started crying again.
None Like You (Geralt x Reader) [Request]
hi! can you do a geralt one shot with fem reader where she's a princess and they start falling for each other? tysm! — Request by anon
Gif Source: frodo-sam
Your mother had raised you to believe you were someone of importance, but life on the farm had said otherwise. You toiled just like everyone else, bleeding and sweating. You were soiled, not spoiled. Yet your mother insisted you were a princess and told you outrageous bedtime stories to lull you to sleep in your youth.
You should have paid better attention.
When King Henselt’s only son died, leaving only a marriage and no heirs, you woke one morning to the pounding of a mailed fist on the door. Your mother answered and then hurried into your room, fluttering about like a mad woman.
“It’s time,” she cried, shoving you into your best dress and raking her fingers through your hair.
“To be someone.”
Then she bundled you out the door into the arms of a military escort carrying the Kaedwan sigil on their shields and tunics: a red-horned unicorn on a yellow field.
It took you the whole day to finally coax information out of your escort regarding the whole ordeal. When they told you what you were, you nearly fell out of your saddle in disbelief.
The king must be desperate, you thought as you tried to fall asleep beside the campfire.
Then the night turned bloody.
Something crunched underfoot to your right. You huddled deeper in the hollowed tree, clutching the steel in your hands. The edges had sliced open your palms, but you didn’t care. It afforded you some protection, even if the creature had snapped the blade it came from like a twig.
Tensing, you waited for the sound to draw nearer, coiling to spring. It was just like killing chickens, you told yourself. One neat slice to the throat.
You leapt out of the hollow, slashing up and across.
The witcher caught your wrist easily, flinging the steel out of your hand. Stifling a cry, you cradled the injured hand to your chest, backed away from him. His eerie yellow eyes tracked you as you pressed yourself against the tree trunk, searching for an escape.
“What happened?” His voice rasped like feet dragged over gravel.
“Death,” you whispered, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the massacre. “Some…thing.”
“It’s dead now.”
You fixed him with a wary glance. “Truly?”
You nearly sank to your knees in relief. Pressing a hand to your mouth, you felt the cuts in your hand spasm. Fresh blood wept from the slashes, trickling down your arms. The witcher swept his gaze over you, eyeing the wounds. You fumbled with the hem of your dress, trying to rip the dirty fabric into strips.
“Did you fight it?” The surprise in the witcher’s voice drew your ear.
You wheezed. “I slashed it, yes, but fight? No.”
Rummaging around in the leaves on the forest floor, the witcher retrieved the broken steel, examined it. He swore.
Unease coiled within you. “What is it?”
You hesitated. The witcher rolled his eyes and strode over to you, grabbing you by the wrist. His touch was firm but not tight, much to your surprise. You followed after him, feeling a little dizzy as he led you over to the road. A horse stood idly there, kind eyes inquisitive. It didn’t shy away as you drew near despite the smell of blood.
“Good horse,” you murmured, appraising it.
The witcher fumbled through a saddlebag, searching for something. At last he pulled out a vial and took your hands, tearing off the strips to get to your wounds. He poured the grey contents of the vial out before you could protest.
You nearly screamed, the pain in your hands was so excruciating. Lighting shot up your arms as the vial’s contents fizzed on your palms and in your wounds.
“To prevent the venom from killing you,” the witcher explained.
“If the pain doesn’t kill me first,” you hissed through gritted teeth.
A smirk tugged on the witcher’s lips, followed quickly by a frown. “What were you doing traveling with those soldiers?”
You hesitated again. What had you heard about witchers? That they fought for coin and hunted monsters. You had no coin, but neither did you know where you were or how to get home.
“King Henselt sent them,” you confided slowly. “They believe I am his bastard daughter.”
You elected to ignore the mild groan in the man’s voice. “Can you take me home? The farm, not Aed Carraigh.”
His yellow eyes fixed on you again, white eyebrows beetling together. “You don’t want to go to the castle?”
“Is it safe? As safe as home?”
His lips pressed into a thin line.
“Then take me home,” you insisted. “I’m no princess.”
The witcher smelled. You couldn’t ignore it, not with your face pressed into his back. He wasn’t made for traveling with someone sitting behind him. You could feel it in the tension of his shoulders and back, as though he couldn’t relax beneath the touch of your arms. You did your best to relax your own tense grasp.
You had run nigh over a mile before collapsing in the hollowed tree trunk. The horse covered the distance easily, passing by the smoldering, bloody encampment you had settled down in the night before. You watched it pass, glimpsing the heaps of bodies scattered about.
It took several hours to draw near home. Joy fluttered in your chest as you approached.
You crested the ridge overlooking home and went still, horror rolling through you. The farm house was ash and rubble, still smoking. The animals had been let from their pens, taken for livestock by whatever had rolled through the farm.
“Bandits,” the witcher noted.
Fighting nausea, you wandered down to the burnt house, searching in the ruins. The ash burned your hands and legs, but you sifted through it, yanking aside a crumbling beam.
Beneath lay your mother. What was left of her.
You retched off to the side, stumbling through the ash. You stood bent at the waist for an eternity before you felt the witcher watching you. Turning to face him, you wiped the sick from your chin. “I can’t stay here.”
Your mother had raised a practical woman, fantastic fantasies about your lineage aside. It was all you could think to do as you stood in the ashes of your dead life. One foot in front of the other.
“I have no money,” you confessed, “but if King Henselt sent for me, he can pay you to ensure my arrival.”
The witcher considered it. At last he growled and nodded.
It would take four days to reach Aed Carraigh. The horse—named Roach, you learned—could only manage that distance in a shorter time if not burdened with two riders.
You sat close to the campfire, warming yourself in the flames, shaking not from cold but from fear as the night closed in around you. The night held terrors untold, but until the night before, you had never seen them in the flesh. Knowing they lingered out in the dark set your teeth on edge.
“I’m sorry to burden you,” you told the witcher, the silence too much to bear. You watched the horse warily for signs of attack, knowing the animal was likely to hear or sense it before you.
“Why don’t you want to be a princess?”
Taken aback by the unexpected question, you shrugged. “Why would I want to be one?”
“Riches. A comfortable life.”
“I had a comfortable life with riches untold. They just weren’t gold.”
“Gold is necessary.”
“Gold means nothing if your life is miserable.”
The words hung heavy in the air. The witcher averted his gaze, surprising you. Frowning, you rubbed at your arms, trying to make the hair on your arms stand down. His averted face gave you the opportunity to study his features. They were rough and worn, his brow creased from excessive glowering. He was all hard edges, a larger man than even the largest farmer you had seen. He appeared both comfortable and uncomfortable in his own skin, or perhaps your presence was upsetting him.
“Am I keeping you from work?”
“Are you always so concerned for witchers?”
You shook your head. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
“Yet there you sit.”
You bit your tongue, surprised by the sting of his barb. Something flickered across his stern features as you ducked your head. “Then tell me where to go and I will get there myself.”
“The road is dangerous.”
“Being a woman is dangerous.”
He almost smiled in surprise. You could see it dancing on his lips.
“So tell me where to go,” you insisted. “Then I can leave your remarkable hair.”
His eyebrows twitched. The silence stretched between you both for a minute, the fire crackling in the quiet. At last, he said, “I will take you.”
You almost gave away your relief with a sharp exhale.
Though the witcher was a man of few words, you found you were able to read more from his face and the set of his shoulders than from anything he said. His silences were full of information, though you couldn’t be sure of what exactly. You merely knew that he radiated safety as much as he did danger.
“Do you know many princesses?” you asked him.
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“I know one or two,” he said. “But none like you.”
You frowned, glancing down at your soiled dress. “Yes, I suppose I’m nothing like one. The people will be overjoyed with a farmer’s daughter.” You snorted.
“I think they could use one.”
Frowning, you glanced up at him. He didn’t quite smile, but the glower on his face had shifted into something softer.
“Well, when I am princess,” you said, “I will remember at least one person believes me suited for the job. That’s all that matters.”
A faint smile touched the witcher’s lips. You matched it with a slow smile of your own.
If you’re taking requests, can you do 102 & 110 from the 390 prompt list for Bucky Barnes please 💛
102. "I had a nightmare about you and just wanted to make sure you were okay."
110. "I just wanted you to know that when I picture myself happy...its with you."
A/N: I hope you all enjoy! 🥺
Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2k
»»————- ♡ ————-««
It was dark, filled with smoke and haze as Bucky looked around, attempting to figure out where he was. He waved his arm around trying to clear the path in front of him as his heart pounded in chest, threatening to burst through and bleed out. His mind was reeling as he tried to shut out the noise, screams, shouts, cries, and pleas that rushed to him all at once. It was so much, too much, at once and he felt like putting his hands over ears to ground himself.
His knees felt weak and shaky as he pushed himself to move forward and make some sense of his situation. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right -
But then he heard it. And it caused him to stop dead in his tracks and stand still. It was your voice, your very distressed cry meeting his ears.
His head whipped around so quickly it was a shock he didn't snap his own neck. Ragged breath and broken cries left his lips as he tried to make sense of where you were. He followed the trail of your voice as best as he could, pushing his way through crowds of people that were suddenly there.
Blue eyes scanned the crowd as he looked through the frantic horde. A sound of frustration bubbled up in his throat, along with acid and bile when he realized you weren't nearby.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Bucky sat up rod straight as he tried to slow his breathing. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and he was covered in a sheen of sweat. At least he was safe, he realized as he grounded himself by looking around his small apartment. Refrigerator, television, table. Refrigerator, television, table. He repeated the phrase to bring himself down several times until he finally felt the panic subside. He held his tired face in his hands as he slowed and evened his breathing, reminding himself that this was all a nightmare. It wasn’t real, none of it was real - it was all a cruel ploy of his imagination.
With a loud sigh, he grabbed his phone off the nightstand and glanced at the time. 3:33. It was too early for anyone to be logically awake, but too late for even night owls. Bucky threw off his thin blanket and stretched, all of his thoughts rushing back to you.
It was all a dream. He had to force himself to remember that. There was no reason for him to fly into a panic and come to check on you. But then again...he had the spare key to your apartment and could easily just pop in and check on you. Five minutes, he reasoned with himself, five minutes was all. In and out to ensure you were safely tucked into bed before he returned home to pretend nothing happened. He’d tell Dr. Raynor about this later. Maybe. He didn’t need her on his case even more about his nightmares and demons.
He quickly swiped his black t-shirt off the floor and tugged it on his haste, not even bothering to change out of his grey sweaters before sliding on his shoes and grabbed his keys. He had no doubt he looked like a mad man, more mad than he even felt half the time, but he didn’t care. There was only one thing on his mind right now and that was ensuring your safety.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
When he reached your apartment, he was silent and aloof as he approached the door and looked around to see if anything was amiss; it all looked perfectly normal. Almost too normal in fact, and although the logical part of his mind knew he was overreacting, he couldn’t help but think of the worst possible things. Looking down the hallways, he made quick work of sliding his key in and quietly unlocking your door.
Windows closed, lights off, everything put neatly away as it always was. Not a thing out of place. He shut the door behind him, remembering too late that it always creaked if you closed it at a particular angle and grimaced at the sound. Hopefully you were deep enough in sleep that you wouldn’t stir. Bucky stealthed down the hall to where he spied your open bedroom door and heard the faint sounds of the television still.
A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth as he realized you’d fallen asleep while watching your favorite show; you’d had it on in the background when you’d talked to him on the phone earlier too. And then there you were, sprawled across your bed in your pajamas, mouth open ever so slightly as you snored quietly. You were okay, he told himself, very much alive and very much okay. He nodded to himself as he grabbed the remote for the television and switched it off so you’d have full peace and quiet. But for some reason that was the singular act that snapped you out of your dream sleep and you sleepily rubbed at your eyes as you moved to sit up.
Bucky froze in terror as you yawned and opened your eyes to find him awkwardly standing there. Despite your sleepy state, you beamed at him and his heart relaxed as you held out a hands towards him, “hi Bucky. What are you doing here? ‘ts late and you should be sleeping, silly old man.”
Unable to stop, he came to you, taking your hand in his as he pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, causing you to sigh softly, “I-I had a nightmare about you and just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“A nightmare?” you were suddenly wide awake as you looked at him with gentle, curious eyes. You pulled him towards you, “oh Bucky, I’m so sorry, my love. Stay - come lay with me.”
“It’s late,” he reminded you, “you need to sleep and I need to go.”
‘I’m not going to be able to sleep if I worry about you for the rest of the night,” you insisted firmly, standing up in front of him, “just get into bed with me, Bucky. Let me hold and you make sure you’re okay. I love you and just like you worry about me, I worry about you.”
“Don’t even try to argue with me James Buchanan Barnes,” you insisted gently, but with bite before you pressed a kiss to his lips. He relaxed, truly relaxed for the first time that evening as he keened into your body, “let me care of you too. You deserve it, Bucky. Stay with me?”
And who was he to refuse such an enticing offer? Blue eyes met your gentle ones as he bit his lip lightly before nodding. Your hands moved to his waist as you reached for the hem of his black shirt and slowly pulled it up and over, letting him discard onto the floor. A hand rested on his chest, just above his heart as you felt it beat, steady and true, under your palm. Bucky swallowed the lump on his throat at your small act of intimacy before letting a world weary exhale. You pressed a few kisses to the bare skin of his shoulder, working your way up his neck and jaw before pausing at his lips. He kicked off his shoes before letting you guide him into your soft, warm bed; it was always a comfort, just like you.
He made himself comfortable, burrowing his way under the covers and taking up the spot he normally occupied as you rejoined him. Curling around his body, you enveloped him, making him feel small and safe, and most importantly loved. It had been a rarity for him, before you came into his life, to feel like this, but you gave and gave and gave, almost never asking for anything in return. But he always gave back, as much as he could, because to him you were everything. Everything he was not, every bit of light and love that he wished he could be. But he was learning, learning to live and love again, and for whatever reason you were there with him, never thinking twice about your decision to so openly love and care for him.
You wrapped your arm around his waist as you rested your head against his back, but not before pressing a few more kisses to his warm, soft skin. He practically hummed in content as his restless thoughts lurched to a screeching halt.
“I know they seem real, Bucky, but they’re just nightmares. Nothing can hurt you anymore,” you whispered softly, tracing aimless shapes over his body, “you’re not him anymore, you’re you. And it’ll be okay, everything will be okay. I’ll fight off all your demons myself if I have to.”
Bucky choked up for a moment, unable to properly form any words, but you felt him nod lightly as he took your hand and laced your fingers together. You didn’t need him to say anything; you knew, you both knew. It was quiet for some time, and eventually you felt yourself start to drift off to sleep as his breathing became heavier and steadier.
“You’ve asked me before about why I stay with you,” you whispered to what you thought was a sleeping Bucky, “and I hope you know it’s because I love you - fully, and completely, every part and parcel. I just wanted you to know that when I picture myself happy...its with you. Always. And even if it takes you a while to realize that, I’ll always be by your side. I’m not going anywhere, Bucky. I am yours and you are mine.”
Bucky’s eyes were wide open now as he listened to your gentle words and stared out the window at the pale moonlight. Suddenly he felt calmer, more relaxed, like he was seeing things with a sense of clarity for the first time in a long time. He swallowed the lump that had welled up in his throat. Blinking back the stinging in his eyes, he brought your hand back up to his chest holding both of your hands above his heart. How vulnerable and human he felt in that moment - how loved.
“I love you, Bucky,” was the last thing you said once you closed your eyes.
You didn’t hear it, but if you’d been awake still, you’d have heard the gentlest I love you spill from his lips. But it was okay, because you knew. You knew.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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kiss it better + bang chan
hello lovelies! (づ￣ ³￣)づ
im back with another bang chan scenario <3 hope you guys enjoy this one!! (oh and tmt hit 1k+ notes ahhh thank you so much >.<, also i might be uploading a prince!chan fic soon, stay tuned sunshines)
STRAY KIDS EVERYWHERE ALL AROUND THE WORLD.
"Chris, baby, please."
It's been two hours, nearing three, since Chris decided to give you the silent treatment. The cause of your current suffering rooted from the events that took place last night.
A college friend of yours happened to be visiting the city, and what better way to celebrate a rare occasion than dressing up and going for a girl's night out with a bunch of your other friends. Chris happily agreed to let you go, he didn't need much convincing since he trusted you with everything and that included you getting home in one piece.
As the late hours of the night passed and shifted over to the wee hours of the morning, Chris grew worried, checking his phone for the nth time as he expected a call or text from you to reassure him that you were fine, or that you were at least still alive somewhere.
Fortunately, he managed to get a hold of your situation through one of your friends, credits to Jisung for grabbing her number that one time you guys set them up for a date.
"Hyung, she said that (y/n) got into a cab ten minutes ago," Jisung explained over the phone. "Her phone also died, so that's probably the reason why you haven't heard from her," he added.
"Alright, got it. Thanks, Ji."
Your drunk self thought that it was a good idea to call for a cab, even declining your girlfriend's offer to drive you home. You insisted that you were fine and that you would only derail their way home since your apartment's route leads to the opposite direction. So, in your semi-intoxicated state, you hopped into a cab and made your way home.
You came home last night, struggling to keep a certain level of sobriety. Heels in one hand and your clutch in the other. You weren't completely hammered, but it was still enough to piss Chris off as he took in your drunken state.
Nevertheless, Chris patiently took care of you. He helped you out of your clothes, took your makeup off for you, and tucked you in bed with him.
You could've gotten away with what happened, until your hungover self decided to betray you.
When Chris sat you down for breakfast, he managed to ease in the happenings of last night, carefully bringing it up as to not agitate you or make you feel like he's blaming you for going out and having fun.
He was just worried, especially having known that you went home all by yourself without even contacting him.
"Baby, you could've borrowed one of your friends' phone and asked me to come pick you up," Chris sighed as he reached out for your hand, placing his on top of yours, his fingers tracing circles on your skin.
"I know and I'm sorry, but can you just scold me later?" you said, your tone a little harsher than you intended it to be, probably due to the lingering headache and side effects of your drinks last night. You felt like your skull was being split into two and you just wanted to eat and recover in silence.
"Babe, I'm not scolding you. I was just-"
You cut Chris off. "Alright, I get it, you were worried but I took care of myself. So let's just argue later, yeah?" you snapped.
And you're out.
Upon hearing your reply, Chris' jaw clenched, visibly appearing offended and irritated. He retracted his hand from yours, opting to cross his arms over his chest.
You bit your tongue when the words you spat out finally settled in. It sounded wrong and you definitely shouldn't have said that. You readied yourself for the argument that was about to ensue, but nothing came.
That was all he said before he stood up and left.
Your eyes widened at the sudden realization that slapped you back into reality, the ugly outcome of your sudden outburst.
You were about to get up and follow Chris to apologize, however, the sudden throbbing pain in your head disabled you from getting out of your seat. Instead, you were forced to sit back down and wallow in guilt.
And that's how you ended up getting the silent treatment.
You left your boyfriend alone for a few hours, hoping that his anger would dissipate by the time that your hungover got better. But much to your dismay, he wasn't having it with you.
"Baby, can I come in?" you knocked on the door of Chris' home studio.
"Chris, baby, please," you tried again, but you were still met with silence. You let out a sigh as you ambled back towards the living room, deciding to just give him space and talk it out whenever he's ready.
Chris was naturally a forgiving person, a little tougher on his members, but a complete sweetheart when it comes to you. So when he gave you the silent treatment for the very first time that day, you didn't know what to do.
So, you waited.
A couple of hours passed, three and a half, now, to be exact, you heard Chris' door unlock. You immediately perked up at the sound, quickly scurrying on your feet to meet him.
"Chris, I'm sorry," you apologized with your head hung low, eyes on the ground, and fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt.
Nothing. Nothing, but the cold breeze of Chris passing by, giving you no due attention. He sauntered towards the kitchen and opened the fridge, paying more attention to the cold food items that were displayed in front of him.
How you wish you were the half-eaten cheesecake now, huh?
Having enough with his torturous act, you were set on using the two tricks you had up your sleeves -- 1) faking an injury, as petty as that sounds, you were desperate, and 2) luring him with something he likes, be it an innocent gesture or a daring one, you would practically do anything at this point.
With your first plan in mind, you crept up behind him and positioned yourself near the edge of the marble kitchen island, placing your hip at the sharp corner so that it would appear as if you bumped against it.
From a third person's point of view, you probably looked stupid, scratch that, you did look stupid, but you were set on breaking Chris' silent streak.
"Ah!" you yelped in pain, hands quickly coming up to clutch your right side. You dropped on the ground, still maintaining your hold on your "injured" torso.
As soon as you cried out in pain, Chris hurried to your side.
"Baby, are you okay?" he asked with a worried expression plastered on his face. His cold demeanor immediately melting once he saw you clutching your side. "What happened, babygirl?" he crouched down to meet your level.
"I accidentally hit the edge of the counter," you said. "Come here, baby," Chris placed your arms around his neck as he scooped you up from the ground, carrying you bridal style towards the living room.
"Show me where it hurts, love," Chris ordered as he sat you down with him. He carefully moved you on his lap, making you straddle him.
"Right here," you pointed towards a random patch of skin on your right side. Chris placed his hand over the supposedly injured area, gently soothing it with the warmth that radiated from his palm.
Adding the icing on the cake, you hissed in pain as his hand came in contact with your skin. "Shh, it's okay, baby. I got you," Chris cooed as he planted a kiss on your cheek, in hopes of making you feel better.
He lifted your shirt up a bit, allowing him to inspect for any cuts or damage to your skin. "Do you want me to go get an ice pack?" Chris offered. "No, it's fine," you replied.
"Alright, just tell me if need anything," Chris responded as he leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your exposed skin, tugging your shirt back down as he pulled away.
You nuzzled your face into his neck, in an attempt to conceal the grin that was forming on your lips. Completely fooled by your actions, Chris continued rubbing your side as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.
"Does it hurt anywhere else, baby?" Chris asked and you nodded. "Here," you pulled away from him and pointed towards your chest. He shot you a puzzled look, confused as to why your chest would hurt when you claimed that you bumped your side.
"Because I was trying to apologize to my boyfriend a couple of hours ago, but instead, he gave me the silent treatment," you pouted.
Chris bursted out in laughter as he heard your response.
"It's true. I followed him around like a lost puppy, but he locked himself inside his studio. Totally unfair and uncalled for," you continued and Chris shook his head in disbelief, his laughter coming to a stop as he calmed down.
"I could say the same thing about what happened last night," Chris challenged, raising one eyebrow at you.
"I'm sorry. I know I was being stupid. I should've called you or at least shot you a message from my friend's phone to let you know that I was coming home late. I just thought that if I called, I was going to end up bothering you, considering that it was such an ungodly hour," you explained, fiddling with the string of his hoodie.
"(Y/n), you could never be a bother to me," Chris said, "And did you honestly think that I could sleep knowing that you were out there?"
"I was so worried about you. Thank Jisung for having one of your friend's number because I was this close to losing it," Chris stated.
"I know. I'm really sorry," you pressed a kiss to his lips. "I promise I won't do it again, forgive me?" you added, pecking his lips once more.
"I can't stay mad at you," Chris let out a defeated sigh. "Of course. I forgive you, babygirl," he gave you a small smile.
You cheered and pulled him in for a hug, momentarily forgetting about your said injury.
"Do you feel better now?" Chris teased as he poked your sides, making you jolt in surprise. "Christopher!" you squealed, bursting in a fit of giggles as you realized that you've been caught red-handed.
Well, at least the intentions of your plan worked.
"You know what they say, desperate times call for desperate measures," you shrugged and Chris chuckled in amusement. He leaned in and gave you a kiss.
"You're lucky you're cute."
twenty-eight | part two
kita shinsuke has always been by your side, ever since he promised to marry you in the daycare sandbox. that’s why it hurts so much when he can no longer can be.
pairing: timeskip!kita shinsuke x fem!reader, sfw (with nsfw ao3 option at the end), 5.3k (part two of two)
written for: the anilysium august sfw collab, forget me not! a collection of multi-fandom stories based on the promise to get married as children.
notes: angst, hurt/comfort, let me shake some sense into one kita shinsuke, osamu being a bro. thank you so much to @vanille–kiss for making the banner, and to @anime-nymph, vani, and jessica for betaing!!
tagging: @bakumi, @daylghits, @backoftheletter sorry if i missed anybody else eep
twenty-seven and two months
Granny Yumie pats your hand as you help her from the bathroom, taking her back to her bedroom so she can rest. It’s been a few weeks since her fall and her brace is off, but she still wobbles when she walks and takes longer to do the things she once thought easier. You’d take the afternoon off to take her to her doctor’s appointment after she called you and asked, and something about the way she said it sat heavily in your stomach.
“Shin-chan won’t be here,” she’d promised. “It’ll be just us.”
Does she know?
Does she know that you’ve ignored every one of Kita’s messages the last week, since he told you that he was getting married? Does she know that you’ve cried yourself to sleep almost every night, face buried into your pillow so you can scream out twenty-two years worth of the pain lingering in your heart? Does she know that you can’t focus at work, eyes glazing over as you stare at your computer screen as your daydreams once filled with Kita grow cold, dark, and lonely?
With the way she’s looking at you, you know she must.
“I’ll get started on dinner,” you tell her as you help her back into bed, handing her the art book you bought for her on the way over. Olden style Japanese paintings were always her favorite though she never could find the time to get to the museum or an art gallery.
“Honey,” she calls as you head toward the door, forcing you to turn back around. “You don’t have to.”
“What do you mean?” You smile as you place a hand on the open doorway. “Are you saying you don’t want my miso soup?”
“You don’t have to pretend with me.”
It’s as if the floor is tugged from under your heart, sending it freefalling down further and further, until it’s buried underneath your feet, unable to be dug back up.
“Come here.” She pats the seat next to her and your legs are like lead as you walk back to her side, slowly sitting on the stool. Yumie runs a hand down your cheek, and tears spring to your eyes though you try to blink them away. “Now I’m not gonna ask what the trouble is, but just know that I think of you as my own grandchild. You’re always welcome here.”
It’s like she gave you the shovel to dig up your buried heart, fingers shaking as you grab onto her hands and hold them between both of yours. Even if you lost Kita, even if you could never have the same relationship again… Granny Yumie would always be your family. Your biggest fear—that you’d be left alone—crumbles just like that. The dam breaks and your tears slip down your cheeks again; you let them fall freely, idly wondering how the well hasn’t dried up yet with all of the crying you’ve been doing the last few days.
“And your miso soup needs a bit more salt.”
You laugh as Grammy Yumie pulls her hand from your grip, and you take a moment to wipe your eyes with your sleeves, patting your cheeks to get rid of the evidence.
“Talk to him,” she urges as you stand again. “Or I’ll talk some sense into him myself.”
“Okay, okay. I will. Get some rest first, alright?”
You hate lying to her, you really do, but you’re not ready to talk to him yet. You don’t know how to start that conversation in the first place. “Shin-kun, I’ve been in love with you for years now and I only just realized,” is probably the easiest place to start but that means you’d have to follow up with, “Sorry for only telling you now that you’re going to marry somebody else.” It makes you seem selfish, makes you think that you aren’t considering his feelings about the entire situation. Besides, you aren’t sure if you can look at him without bursting into tears on the spot.
You’re fixing Granny Yumie’s rice bowl when there’s a click of the front door, and your entire body goes completely still. A glance to the clock reads 6:54 PM. Kita isn’t supposed to be home yet—he told his grandmother that he’d be home at 8, which is why you came early to avoid him. There’s the all-too-familiar shift and click of him tidying his shoes (he always did like to make sure they were neatly lined up with the landing) and then soft footsteps padding further into the house.
“Granny?” He asks quietly, and immediately you know something’s off. Something’s the matter, something you can’t put your finger on. Only when he peeks his head into the kitchen does it hit you.
His footsteps aren’t the only ones you heard.
Behind him stands a very tall and very pretty woman, her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, her lace dress wine-colored and very expensive. She looks confused as her eyes bounce from you to the side of Kita’s face, and your cheeks burn at the fact that you’re wearing Granny Yumie’s tattered apron, face a bit sweaty from preparing dinner.
You turn back to the stove so that you don’t have to look at Kita, don’t have to see the squint of his eyebrows when he’s trying to figure something out, or the way he looks too much like Atsumu as his lips open and close, failing to form words.
“Have you eaten?” You ask quietly as you stir the miso soup with your wooden chopsticks. You don’t need to but it’s better than awkwardly standing around and staring at Kita’s fiance.
“No, I—” His voice, the one you missed so much, is hoarse before he pauses to clear his throat. “We thought we’d come back and eat with Granny.”
“I’ll set up a place for you both then.”
“Kita-san, who is this?”
The woman’s voice is like a tinkling bell, and shame floods you immediately. She’s pretty, proper, and even her voice sounds downright perfect for her. Compared to her, you’re nothing but a frumpy mess with a ratty old apron on. Your grip on your chopsticks tightens as you take a breath. You have to leave the kitchen and the house sooner or later. You can’t keep ignoring the looming shadows behind you.
You turn with a strained smile, bowing your head politely. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Kita-san’s old classmate. He asked me to watch over his grandmother while he was out.”
“That’s kind of you.”
“If you’d like to go greet her, I’ll bring the food to you.”
It’s easy to ignore the pained look on Kita’s face at the use of his last name when you turn back around. It’s even easier to ignore the knife driving through your ribs over and over, busying yourself with preparing two more bowls of rice and a little more side dishes. When you take it to them on a small foldable table, you nearly fall over when you hear her introduce herself as Kita’s fiance. You have to grip the table so hard your knuckles discolor to keep it from slipping out of your sweaty hands. Granny Yumie watches you closely as you set it over her knees, your smile not reaching your eyes as you fix it to be stable.
“Eat up, okay? If you need anything, let me know.”
It’s Kita who answers in her stead. “You’re not stayin’?”
There’s a strange tilt to his voice that you’ve never heard before, one that makes your heart lurch. It’s the first time you look him square in the eyes since that night at the izakaya, and you wish you hadn’t. Seeing his face makes you exhale a shuddering breath, the clamor in your chest so loud you think he can probably hear it. It’s awkward—Kita’s fiance and Granny Yumie both stare at you silently, both glance at the three bowls of rice you prepared before looking back at you.
“No,” you shake your head and awkwardly smile. “I’ll leave you be. Feel better, Granny Yumie, I’ll see you soon.”
You don’t. You turn from the room and exit after a quick bow, hurrying to take off the apron, grab your bag, and put your shoes back on. There’s the clinking of silverware, tapping of plates, and you think that’s it. You’re left on your own while the rest of the family dines, an unneeded addition to Kita Shinsuke’s future. You blink back hot tears, refusing to let them fall again, and throw open the door as you fumble in your bag for your phone to call a taxi.
The door never shuts behind you. When you turn to check, you see Kita standing there in the doorway; his expression is unreadable thanks to the shadows of the setting sun masking three-fourths of his face.
“I’ll take you back.”
“No, I’ll call a taxi.”
You try to stalk off but Kita’s heavy footsteps are close behind you, and his hand firmly grabs onto your upper arm so you can’t go. “At least have some dinner before you go.”
“Yes you are,” he insists. “You always eat at 6:30 so I know you’re lyin’.”
“What does it matter?” You demand as you rip your arm away from him, throat thick as you try to swallow down the pain and anger bubbling beneath the surface. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore, you have a fiance.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t see you, too.” There’s that curious tilt to his voice, a vibrating nervousness that you haven’t heard from him before. “I promise I won’t let her come between us so I don’t understand why you’re ignorin’ me.”
You laugh. You can’t help it. It’s watery, garbled, bogged down by the tears in your eyes again as you stare at him. You can see his face now, read his expression clearly. It’s pinched, calculating, like he’s trying to read an opponent’s play on the volleyball court, waiting for the ball to be spiked in his direction.
“I thought you were smart, Kita Shinsuke.” Your breath hitches as you try to hold in your sob, bringing a hand to cover your mouth so he can’t see your trembling lips. “I never realized that you could be this clueless.”
“What are you talkin’ about?”
“What am I to you, Shin-kun?”
Your question hangs in the air, and you know you surprised him by the way he blinks his eyes in confusion, head tilting just slightly to the left like he’s trying to figure it out.
The word hangs heavy in the air. You feel like you can’t breathe, like hands wrapped around your lungs and pressed down so hard that you’ve gone lightheaded. His hazel eyes are stuck on yours, and he’s close enough that you could touch him, but he feels so far away. Cicadas buzz in the background; you hear a child from the neighboring house laughing as her ball bounces on the pavement; there’s the creak of a door, and Kita’s fiance stands in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest.
“Go.” The word feels like sandpaper in your mouth, the dryness cutting like a knife as you swallow. “When you figure it out, call me. Until then, don’t bother.”
You turn away from him and practically race out of the front gate, clutching your bag between your hands so tightly you think the strap might break.
But there was no reason for you to hurry.
Because Kita Shinsuke doesn’t follow you.
twenty-seven and three months
September is the busiest month of the year. It’s when his rice plants are finally done growing, meaning he’s up from dawn til nearly dusk, plowing, tilling, sorting, and bagging. Machines whirr almost constantly; there’s dust in the air from the earth as his tractor cuts the rice plants, and from the machine plucking the rice from its shelling, spitting out grain after grain into burlap sacks. Then he has to deliver those sacks to businesses who order them, hundreds of kilograms worth of food in a few weeks.
Onigiri Miya is one of those businesses, and it’s busy when he arrives in his truck, the bed filled with Osamu’s order. His old friend comes out to greet him with a smile and a clap on the back, helping him take the sacks into the back as his part-time worker handles the rest of the customers. He’s about to leave when Osamu asks him to wait a moment until things die down.
“Wanna catch up a bit,” is Osamu’s plea, and Kita checks the clock on the wall for the time before nodding. If he finishes before three, he’ll still make it in time for the four o’clock photo appointment.
Though he’d asked her to wait until October, Aiko was insistent that this was the only time the photographer could take their booking.
“My mother and sisters both got their pictures taken at this establishment and the photographer is a very busy man,” she pressed a week ago. “I won’t be relenting.”
So he’d agreed, just like he agreed when she asked him not to message you anymore.
It was only a day after you had walked away from him, left him standing dumbfounded at the gate of his grandmother’s house, watching your retreating back. The phone call was brief, short, polite. Just like Aiko herself.
‘I don’t know what is going on between you two, but if we’re going to get married, it’s best for you to cut ties. I would prefer not to start our life together off on a sour note.’
It’s logical to a fault. Aiko doesn’t know you like he does. She doesn’t know that you take bites of your ice cream cones in the summer because you hate that it melts so fast; doesn’t know that you pretend to be good at watching horror movies but then curl up with your favorite plushie, bedroom door firmly shut; doesn’t know that you pretend to like eel only for Granny Yumie’s sake because it’s one of her favorite foods.
Doesn’t know that you aren’t calling him anyway, that his messages have been left on read for the past three weeks no matter how much he asks to speak with you.
He stares at his phone as if it’ll ring any moment, even though he knows it won’t. It hasn’t rang from you since August, his rice coming faster than any revelation from what you could have meant.
Once the last customer leaves, a cold beer is slid his way.
“Looks like ya could use this,” Osamu jokes, sitting down across from him at the table.
“I got some pictures to take in a bit.” Kita checks his phone again—nothing as usual.
“One won’t hurt.”
“You sound like ‘Tsumu.”
Osamu laughs and leans back in his seat, throwing an arm over the back of the chair. “If I was ‘Tsumu, I woulda already had one.”
Kita can’t argue with that. He takes a sip of his beer, checking the time on his phone one more time before sliding it to his right.
“Somethin’ happen?” Osamu regards him strangely, raising an eyebrow as his gaze flicks from Kita’s phone to his face. “That’s the fifth time ya’ve looked at yer phone since comin’.”
Is it? He hadn’t even realized. Based on Osamu’s expression, Kita knows there’s no use in lying.
“…Yeah. We got into a fight.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Over yer fiancé?”
Kita blinks at Osamu in surprise. “How did you know?”
The restaurant owner takes a moment to think about his response before he snorts. “Yer my friend so I’ll be real honest. Yer a dumbass.”
He certainly wasn’t expecting that. He sits back in the chair with slightly widened eyes, unsure if he should be offended or not.
“You got me feelin’ like ‘Tsumu,” Kita says and makes both of them laugh. When it quiets down again, Kita sighs and shifts his sweating beer around the table. “Then be straight with me, ‘Samu. What am I missin’?”
The pause is long and awkward. Osamu looks like he’s fighting with himself, face pinching and lips tugging into a straight line. Finally he heaves out a heavy breath and runs a hand through his black hair, scratching at the back of his neck.
“Ya really don’t see it?”
“That’s what she said before.”
“Well, yeah,” he laughs, but it’s dry and doesn’t hold any mirth. “Probably cause ya been too close to tell.” Then, before Kita can ask again, Osamu finishes. “She’s in love with ya, Shin.”
The words hit him like a satchel of his rice, ringing in his ears and drowning out any other sound. You’re in love with him?
“Close yer mouth before a fly gets in there,” Osamu jokes, passing a napkin his way. Kita takes it, dabbing at his forehead. Since when? “I don’t wanna overstep my bounds, but…” Another pause. This one is shorter, but heavier with the way Osamu’s voice grows smaller. “You don’t love yer fiance because I, uh, think yer in love with her, too.”
A shrill ring of the phone makes both of them jump, and Kita looks down to his screen to see Aiko’s name. Shit, what time is it? Checking makes him stand because he should have left about ten minutes ago. Osamu lifts his hands and mutters, ‘I’ll talk to you later’ as Kita races out the door, promising he’s on his way to the studio.
The entire way there, he drums his fingers against the steering wheel, staring blankly at the license plate of the car before him. Memories between the two of you bounce around in his head, lifting like the curtain at the end of a play. Your constant jokes about marrying him. The kisses on the cheek, the hugs, the bright smiles whenever he walks in the door and you’re there. The night at the bar when you said you had something to tell him… your nervousness and excitement when you thought he had something good to tell you, too...
Damn, he’s a dumbass.
Osamu’s words ring loud and clear a moment later. I think you’re in love with her, too. He always thought of you as family: a constant in his life that would never leave his side. Someone he could confide in; someone who knew him better than he probably knew himself. These last few months have been hell without you. As soon as he thinks that, it’s like a fire starts in his veins, creeping throughout his body until it’s all-consuming, making his legs shake nervously as he hurries to get to the photoshoot.
He’s always thought logically and tried to see situations from multiple points of view. But he didn’t get it because your reaction wasn’t logical—it was pain from your heart, feelings for him growing to a fever pitch, only for him to squash any semblance of hope you had almost all at once.
How is he supposed to fix this?
He sits in the parking lot of the photo studio, watching workers buzz around the entrance as he gathers his thoughts. Based on the annoyed text message Aiko sends him, she and Granny are already inside waiting for him.
It must have hurt so badly for you to hear those words, for him to not understand the person who had been watching over him for decades now.
Kita wants to run. Wants to find you and say he’s finally figured it out. Ask you to forgive him. Tell you that he understands and if you can find it in you to accept him, then he—
His phone pings again, this time from Granny, and he reluctantly turns the car off and steps out.
He’s ushered into a fitting room almost instantly, a light gray suit forced into his hands without even a greeting, and when he steps out from behind the dressing curtain, Granny is waiting for him. She looks pretty in her maroon dress, her hair freshly done and pulled into a bun. He walks forward to press a light kiss to her cheek, and it makes her laugh.
“My little Shin-chan isn’t so little anymore,” she muses as she fixes his tie for him. “You look very handsome.”
“Thank you,” he responds but it’s half-hearted. The fabric feels like it weighs a ton, pressing down on his body and making it hard to breathe.
Granny Yumie must notice before she clicks her tongue and rummages in her bag. “Let’s take a picture together.”
“I’ll go get—”
“No need! I learned how to take a selfie the other day.”
Hearing “selfie” from his grandmother’s mouth sounds very weird. He has to hide his amused chuckle as he slides behind her, watching her flick to her camera. She accidentally presses the photo album, and the first thing he sees is Granny with… you. You’re both smiling at the camera, though Granny has her eyes shut on accident.
“Granny, did she teach you?”
“She sure did. Yesterday over lunch.”
“She’s… still comin’ to see you?”
“Of course she is,” Granny tuts as she finally pulls up the camera. One glance at the screen showing both their faces and Yumie immediately turns around, raising a worried hand to his cheek. “What’s the matter, Shin-chan?”
It takes Kita a moment to realize that there are tears leaking from his eyes, a hot stinging as he tries to blink them away. If you’re still going to see Granny then that means hope isn’t lost yet. It means that if he hurries, maybe, just maybe, it won’t be too late.
“‘Samu was right,” he says to his grandmother as if she’s going to understand what he’s talking about. “He was right. I need to go, but…”
A soft smile graces Granny Yumie’s face. A kind smile. A knowing smile.
“I’ll take care of everything here,” she says as she lets him go and shoos him out of the room with both of her hands. “Go.”
Kita presses a kiss to her cheek, running out the front door so fast that he doesn't even stop to listen to the disgruntled workers yelling at him to give their suit back.
twenty-seven and three months
It’s hard not to check your phone every so often. You’ve gotten better at it now that it’s been a few weeks without any contact from Kita. You’ve resorted to seeing Granny Yumie when you’re sure he won’t be there: your lunch breaks, early weekend mornings, nights Granny says he’ll be out—but even being in the house is difficult for you. Kita’s photos are everywhere, hanging on the wall, a stark reminder that even though he isn’t home, you won’t be able to escape him. At least Granny Yumie doesn’t say anything, though you aren’t sure if that’s a good or bad thing. Part of you wants her to talk some sense into your grandson because you’ve never known him to be this clueless—and it hurts that it’s all at the expense of you and your feelings.
You know Granny is busy tonight so you sit at your apartment, listlessly watching a comedy show that’s not funny at all. You consider going to see Osamu for a moment, sure some of his salmon onigiri would cheer you up. But then he’d probably ask about Kita and you’d be forced to lie through your teeth, and Miya Osamu is much too perceptive for his own good. So there you stay, flicking through the McDonald’s delivery app instead, wondering if you should drown your sorrows in an ice cream sundae for dinner.
You’re about to order when there’s a frantic knock at the door.
You glance at the clock. It’s not even 5PM yet so there’s no reason for someone to be knocking on your door like this. The knocks stop for a moment before starting again, and you stare at your foyer with a scrunched nose. Whoever is there, it seems like bad news, so—
“It’s me,” a soft voice says after the knocks stop for the second time, and your heart just about drops to your stomach.
You stare at the wall as he knocks again and again, unsure if you want to answer. Has he finally come to give you your answer? Has he figured out what you meant? Or is he here for some other reason that you can’t figure out?
There’s another pause in the knocking, but your phone pings twice in succession, the loud chime ringing in your apartment. Glancing down at the screen shows it’s Kita, messaging you twice to please open the door. He must have heard the ring because there’s a quiet thud, as if he’s placed his hand on your front door instead of knocking again.
“I know you’re in there so please… open the door.”
Your feet move of their own accord, fingers shaking as you unlock the deadbolt to your front door. You open it slowly, peeking an eye out before your eyes widen in surprise.
He’s wearing a suit, but his tie is undone, hanging around his shoulders and about to fall off. His normally fluffy hair is matted to his forehead thanks to sweat, and his cheeks are a rosy pink like he sprinted the entire way to your apartment. His hands flex next to his sides when he straightens up, looking like he’s ready to bow to you in begging for your forgiveness.
For the first time, Mister Perfect Kita looks less than perfect.
“What are you doing here?” You ask instead of a greeting, biting your bottom lip to keep from adding a profanity.
“I came to talk.” You expected him to maybe calm down after a few breaths, but his voice still holds an airy quality that shows how breathless he is. “If you’ll let me in.”
You look him up and down, realization settling into your bones. A suit, the tie— most likely professional photos for an engagement to someone who is assuredly not you. But… Why is he here instead?
“You seem a bit busy.”
“I left,” he tells you matter-of-factly. Your heart does Olympic-level flips in your chest when he quietly adds, “It didn’t feel right.”
“Let me in,” he implores again, and by the stern set to his jaw, you know he won’t take no for an answer. Then he bows to you, hair falling over his eyes as he mutters, “Please.”
“Don’t… don’t bow to me,” you awkwardly mutter, stepping aside as a silent agreement for him to come in.
He excuses himself, toeing off his dress shoes and fixing them like he always does, before he shuffles inside and shrugs off his jacket. He takes a seat in front of your coffee table, sitting on his knees, hands on the tops of his thighs. He doesn’t even turn when you pad over to the other side, taking a seat across from him. It’s awkward as you both stare at each other, unsure of how to start, of where to start, of how to condense years if not decades of feelings into one simple explanation.
“How long?” He eventually asks with an exhale of breath.
“How long have you been in love with me?”
You’d wanted him to figure it out, to realize your feelings for him and come to find you, just like he did now. But you hadn’t thought about what would happen after. Hadn’t thought about the fact that your throat might close up, that your mind would go blank with how to answer his question, mouth as dry as a desert.
“I think…” You wet your lips before taking a breath. “Since high school but I didn’t realize until last year when… when…”
“You broke up with your fiance.” You nod, words failing you. Luckily Kita continues. “That night at the izakaya, were you goin’ to tell me?”
“I wanted to but then you told me about Aiko-san.” Your voice cracks at the mention of her name and you sigh. “Why are you here?”
“I always thought that you would be by my side,” he starts. You can see his hands tightening on top of his thighs though his expression stays as neutral and focused as the normal Kita Shinsuke you know. “So when you weren’t anymore, I didn’t get it. I never thought you would leave me.”
“I had to. For my own sake.”
“I know that now.” He nods as he agrees. “But I realized that if it’s not you… I don’t want anybody else.”
Your breath catches in your throat and you have to grip the table between you to keep from falling over. Is he saying what you think he is?
“Granny showed me the picture you took yesterday and you know what I thought? ‘We should be takin’ these pictures together.’ The three of us, to hang on the wall. You in your princess dress and me in a suit fit for a prince.” Kita pauses, eyes like lasers as he stares at you, his voice strong and confident. “I love you.”
The words you longed to hear from the man you longed to hear them from. You feel like you can’t breathe, heat exploding from your stomach and spreading throughout your body so quickly that you feel lightheaded.
“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “But I do know that it’s how I feel.”
“You… you can’t expect me to—“
“I’m not expectin’ anythin’,” he interrupts. “The only thing I want is for you to give me a chance to prove it.”
He doesn’t answer you. Slowly he stands up, walking the few steps over to your side and holding out his hand for you. You take it, letting him help you stand, his grip of your hand tight as he holds you. There’s only the two of you in the world, his eyes capturing you so you drown in their depths, lost in a sea of honey. His calloused fingers brush over your cheek before settling under your chin, and he tilts your head up to look at him.
This is a dream; it has to be. That’s why you nod, sure that if you speak, it’ll shatter your illusion and wake you up.
The press of his lips is soft, timid, like he’s worried he’ll break you if he moves any harder. It isn’t until you kiss him back that his body relaxes and he tugs you closer. You can feel his heart thundering under your fingertips, can feel the tilt of his head when he presses even harder.
It’s like he fits you, like he was made for you, your other half. His arms circle you perfectly, keeping you close as he pulls back and kisses you again. Again and again, making you dizzy, making you cling to him, making you feel loved.
You don’t realize that his phone has been vibrating in his pocket until he pulls back, a scrunch in his eyebrows. That’s when your phone goes off, constantly buzzing on the table that reads Osamu’s name. As soon as Osamu stops calling, your phone lights up again with Granny Yumie’s name, and you look to see Kita holding his phone, staring at his screen.
“I have somethin’ to take care of.”
Then he leans forward and kisses you again, holding the side of your neck as he presses chaste kiss after chaste kiss to your lips until he seems satisfied.
“I’ll come back soon.”
It makes your heart flip, your throat dry and fingers trembling. You cling to him, nodding a few times so he knows you heard him.
“Because a princess needs her prince, right?”
“Because someone is adamant that they have to get married before twenty-eight.”
“I wonder who,” you joke breathlessly, cheeks warm at the look in his eyes. Curious, happy, and most of all, loving.
“Someone who I hope loves me, too.”
“She does,” you say with an exhale. “But she won’t wait around forever.”
“Then I better get goin’.”
It’s hard watching him leave, but it’s easier when he whispers ‘I’ll be home soon.’
Because that’s what Kita Shinsuke is to you, too.
part one | nsfw ao3 option
Tomato - Tomato (one-shot)
Synopsis: One is an international rock-star. The other is his loyal assistant. Both are complete morons in love. Also - she’s allergic to tomatoes, and it is important.
This started off as something completely else. hope you enjoy :D
Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Assistant!Reader
Genre: fluff, minor angst
Warnings: two idiots pining for one another, swearing, mentions of allergies and EpiPens
Word count: 3492
Being an assistant to someone famous wasn’t all glamourous parties and wild nights out with celebrities. It was scheduling last minute flights and not sleeping for three days straight as you packed a million bags and then repacked because their stylist sent you knew pieces and the old ones no longer fit the aesthetic of the week.
It was also making sure that they were up by six AM with a hot coffee at their bedside ready to help them wake up as you lay out a detailed plan of the day down to the minute, while you yourself basically only had a two-hour nap because you had to finish off 568 handwritten notes to be sent out to each of the contacts in their phone. Or at least that’s what Y/N’s life was like being the personal assistant to none other than the modern-day prince of rock Harry Styles.
Said rockstar was actually still asleep when Y/N entered his room, ripping open the curtains and letting in the rising sun. He groaned, pulling up the bedsheets that’d ridden down his form during the night. “Not that I don’t like seeing your gorgeous face in the mornings….” he mumbled into the covers. “But I don’t like seeing your face in the mornings when they start at six bloody AM.”
Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes, rubbing them in an attempt to get rid of the sleep that still lingered in her own body. “You were the one that said you’re fine with seeing Lambert at eight for a fitting.”
“When did I say that?” Harry scoffed, only the top of his messy bedhead seen from the cocoon he’d built around himself.
“Would you like me to pull up the text messages, the calendar or the e-mails?”
Even with her back turned as she rummaged through his closet for him to put on some clothes, she could sense the middle finger he threw at her, and she smiled.
Despite everything, despite the zero sleep and stress always coursing through her veins, Y/N loved working for him. He treated her as a friend, not just some lackey he paid to, but most importantly, comparatively to the other people she’d worked for in the same line of business – he treated her as a human.
If something went over the deadline, Harry didn’t scream or yell at her and tell Y/N how incompetent she was, instead he asked what kind of help or assistance she needed to get the job done, or maybe if she just needed some time off to gather herself and look at the problem with fresh eyes.
“I hate how organised you are,” Harry groaned, finally throwing the covers off.
“If I wasn’t, you’d be in a ditch somewhere.”
She heard him scoff and two feet plop against the hardwood floor as he made his way towards her. “Is that how little faith you have in me?”
“You don’t even know what day it is!”
“Who does in these times?”
Y/N shrugged her shoulders and handed him a pair of boxers, some loose jeans, and a flowery Hawaiian shirt. “Are you telling me I’m wrong though?”
She looked over to her side, a smirk playing on her lips while he squinted his green eyes at her. “No, but it doesn’t mean I like getting called out, especially this early in the morning.”
With a roll of her eyes and a shove at his shoulder for him to move to the bathroom, Y/N handed him the clothes, moving downstairs to start making him some light breakfast and get herself a cold glass of water.
You see, she’d been working as his assistant for close to two years, and they’d grown not only as people around one another, challenging their beliefs and world views, but as friends too. And, well, Y/N would be lying if the emotions hadn’t evolved from platonic to falling in love. Not that she’d ever admit it. He was an international sensation, and she was the girl who got him vegetarian croissants at the airport.
She dragged a hand down her face as she clicked the stove on and took out a carton of eggs from the fridge. Y/N knew how he liked his omelette to the T, mostly because when she’d spent the first night of quarantine with him a year prior right as the pandemic had started, Harry had wanted to do something nice because she couldn’t go and see her family any more, so he’d gotten up at seven to make breakfast for both of them. The only problem was, he hadn’t asked if she had any allergies, so as he added bits of tomatoes, parsley, cheese and scallions, Harry hadn’t expected Y/N’s eyes to go wide at the first bite as she dropped the fork.
“Harry…” Her tone had been cautious. “What’s in this?”
He was sweating. Was his cooking really that bad? He just wanted to do something nice and there he was screwing everything up. “ ‘S just some of my favourite things. I’m sorry I didn’t ask, I just thought you’d like it.”
“I do, but this tastes like it has tomatoes in it.”
He nodded. “Yeah. It does.”
Gently she smiled at him and pushed the plate a bit further away. “Could you grab me a coat, and if you have any – an EpiPen?”
“An Epi – oh shit!” When the realisation hit him, Harry was jumping out of his seat, running to one of the cupboards and rummaging through in a panic all the while apologies flew non-stop from his mouth.
Y/N in the meantime had gathered her purse and mask, making a call to the nearest hospital to explain the situation to which they responded they’d be waiting for her arrival.
“I’m so sorry!” Harry ran up to her, a first-aid kit in his shaking hands. “Please don’t die! I didn’t want to kill you, I promise! I just wanted to make you some breakfast cause you do so much for me, and now you’re stuck here, and – oh god,” he cried. “I’m going to be prosecuted for killing my assistant.”
She didn’t mean to, but the snort came out of her nose either way. “Harry.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Please calm down. I’m not going to die.”
“Yes, I am, but I only had a small bite. The ER is just a precaution.” Y/N took his palms in hers and squeezed them. “Now take a deep breath with me…” They did so, holding it for five seconds and letting it out for eight. “And calm down a bit. I’ll go give myself the shot, and then I’ll drive to the hospital.”
“Let me,” Harry begged. “Please, let me at least drive you to the emergency room. God, I almost killed you with an omelette, it’s the least I can do. I – I could also help you with the shot, I won’t hit an artery, I promise -”
“Harry, you’re barely coherent. Not to say anything, but you’d have a bigger chance of killing me in a car crash, than from that tomato.” Y/N gave him a smile. “I’m gonna be fine.”
With that, she left him to venture into the bathroom and did the unpleasant part of stabbing herself in the thigh to alleviate her body from the allergy symptoms. She sat there for around five minutes before she felt that the swelling of her tongue and itching in her throat was starting to subside, which meant the epinephrine was working.
“Okay,” she huffed, taking her purse from the couch where Harry had been sitting, hugging the accessory. “I’ll be back in probably around two hours. Do we need anything from the store?”
He shook his head. “Just come back home, please.”
Y/N would never admit how her heart thundered in her chest when Harry said to come back ‘home’. “I will.” She promised. “Don’t you worry. You’re not getting rid of me that easy, Styles. The money’s too good.” She winked at him and then left Harry pouting on the couch, but she couldn’t get through the door, before he jumped up, yelling, “wait! Do I need to get rid of every tomato in the house?”
“No,” she laughed. “I’m good to be around them. Even touch them. ‘S just my insides that don’t agree with it when they meet.”
“Okay.” He nodded, hands on his hips. “Alright. I’ll uh – I’ll be waiting. I’ll make you something else.”
“There’s no need for that, Harry.”
His eyes widened at her words. “I swear I’m not trying to murder you!”
“Oh my god,” she muttered shaking her head. “Just – just relax. Okay. I’ll send you hourly updates.”
He bit his lip. “Make it every ten minutes.”
“Please?” The way he was giving her puppy dog eyes melted her heart.
With an eye-roll, Y/N waved at him and promised to update her boss at every possible moment and confirm that he hadn’t, in fact, been the reason for her demise. Well, he was the reason for the demise of her low standards in men, having taken them and thrown them up to the Moon, but unless her feelings were miraculously requited or if one of the Marvel characters, she was obsessed with came to life, she’d have to stick to what was available. And in her mind, that wasn’t Harry.
“What are you thinking about?” His voice startled Y/N out of the memory, and she shook her head, adding salt and pepper to the beaten eggs.
She shrugged. “Just about that time a year ago where you secretly tried to off me because you were too nice to say you didn’t wanna quarantine together.”
The groan he let out was of royal embarrassment, and it put a wide smile on her face, as she took one of the forsaken fruits and started to chop the red ball into small pieces.
“You’ll never let me live it down, are you?”
Y/N raised her eyebrow at him. “Your failed murder attempt?” She snorted. “Of course not! It’s like you don’t watch the crime shows and murder documentaries when I have them on. You really haven’t learned anything.”
Harry stuck his tongue out at her and moved to her side, dropping some chives into the mix as well. “Well given how it wasn’t a murder attempt, I wouldn’t consider it a fail.”
Her hip bumped his, and only then did Y/N really give him a once-over. As always, he looked amazing in whatever was on his body, but what made him even cuter in her eyes was the sleepiness still lingering in him.
Harry’s movements were a little bit sluggish, eyes half-closed and small sighs passing his lips as he sipped onto the coffee she’d come to his place with. The shirt sat loosely on his body, the first two buttons left open while he’d tucked the bottom of it into the jeans, having found a Gucci belt and cinched it around his waist, giving it a more eighties look rather than the sixties vibe he usually had with his suits.
The brown hair was still messy and dishevelled, and Y/N could barely, just barely restrain herself from running her fingers through it, but what she didn’t know Harry was struggling just as much.
All he wanted to do was pull out the bottom lip Y/N had gotten in between her teeth and kiss her senseless, to have her fingers dig into his arms and leave crescent shaped imprints on his skin.
“So, uh…” He had to start a conversation otherwise his mouth would find itself on Y/N’s mouth in a second. “What’s Lambert got in his schedule? How many outfits is he thinking?”
“Two or three, I think,” she said, pouring the mixture on the pan and letting the slow sizzle erupt around them. “He’s got this one suit which I think you’ll really like – all leather, but it needs to be altered.”
Harry hummed, and for a second both of them relished in the domestic feel of it all. They’d had many moments like it before, especially during the spring and summer seasons of 2020, and Y/N couldn’t help but relish in her memories at them.
“Harry?” It was like her voice snapped him out from a trance. “Could you pass me a plate please?’
“Uh, yeah,” he stammered for a moment and then nodded, wordlessly going to a cupboard and taking out a white marbled plate. That single piece of kitchenware probably cost more than her life insurance, but it was definitely aesthetic if nothing else.
Silently Y/N plopped the omelette onto the plate, placing it on the kitchen counter and went to get him a fork, however when she turned around, he was facing her, chewing quite agressively on the inside of his cheek.
“You okay?” she asked, coming closer. “I can call Lambert, reschedule it for later. He wouldn’t be too happy about having to wake up and then – “
But Harry shook his head. “It’s not that.”
He didn’t say anything. It was like he was trying to decipher the best course of action, and when he ultimately did, Y/N was pressed up against the counter, Harry’s forehead against hers with two ring-clad hands cupping her cheeks.
“Harry,” she breathed, out her lips brushing his making the air in her lungs hitch. “What are you doing?”
“Something I’ve been dying to do for a year now. If you let me that is.”
“I -,” The words were muddled up in her head. Of course, Y/N wanted him to kiss her, she wanted him to ravish every part of her body. The fantasies and dreams she’d had at night would be incriminating proof if her feelings were on trial, but despite it all, her brain was usually in charge and would overrule any decision made by her heart. “Harry, we can’t.” She whispered, voice breaking.
“I -,” Horror morphed onto his features as he took a step back. “Did I misread the signals? Did I do something you don’t wan –“
“No.” She grabbed onto his cheeks, trying to calm him down, his body practically melting into hers. “I do.” She didn’t need to explain what she meant. He understood. “So much it hurts me sometimes… but Harry, you’re my boss. My employer. It… it wouldn’t be right.”
“Why? How can it not be right, when it feels like the rightest thing in the world?”
“Because, Harry,” she huffed. “You’re my boss. And what’s worse – I love working for you!”
That made both of them laugh, the tone of her voice as if she was more annoyed than anything else. “ ‘Nd why’s that bad?” He nudged her nose with his. “I’d hope my employees like working with me. What kind of a person would I be if I thrived on them being miserable?”
“Because if I didn’t, quitting would be easy.” She raised her eyebrow at him. “And if I quit there’d be nothing stopping us from dating.”
Harry bit his lip, finger trailing along her cheekbone. “There’s nothing stopping us now either. There is no clause in your contract that says you can’t date people who you work for or with. Sarah’s with Mitch, and they’re the happiest they’ve ever been. They’re even having a baby…”
Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile. “I know. But that’s different. They’re on equal levels. You and I, however… I don’t want people to think I got my job because I slept with you, or some shit. It’s bad enough some already do so.”
His brows furrowed, and Y/N saw how his jaw clenched. “Who?”
“Strangers.” She shrugged. “I know you don’t look at comments like that online, but I see them. My DMs are filled with that. Gossip magazines. The point is – there are already unsubstantiated rumours about us. This would give them the confirmation they’d need.”
“How can it confirm something that’s not true?”
“There are still people who believe vaccines cause autism. Even when their ‘proof’ has been discredited and shown to be just complete bullshit, most don’t like to admit they’re wrong, so they’ll look for whatever tells them they’re right.”
Harry huffed throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. “So, where does that leave us? In love, but without being able to do anything about it? Because I can’t.” He shook his head. “I won’t be able to just pass you by without kissing you, or not pull you into the bed when you wake me up, or press you against the wall and not have my head between these two gorgeous legs.”
Y/N groaned slapping his chest and dropping her forehead against his peck. “That is so unfair. Why do you have to tease me like that!”
“Oh, sweetheart.” The rumble was deep and shot a wave of heat straight to her core. “This is no teasing.” The smirk on his face when she looked up at him was shit-eating. “Trust me, if I was teasing, you’d be begging for me.”
She’d imagined him between her thighs more times than it was appropriate considering he was her boss, but hot damn, did it feel amazing when his lips crashed onto hers, and she let him. In her dreams, his lips hadn’t been just pressed to her mouth but other places which were more south, but it was still one of the best feelings in the world.
The kiss left them both breathless, and grinning and satisfied, yet begging for more, teeth nipping at the soft flesh.
“I’ll put out an official statement, if you want,” Harry muttered against her mouth, unable to stop pecking her lips now that’d he’d gotten a taste. “But please, please, please… for both our sanities go out on a date with me.”
It seemed like Y/N was the one contemplating the best plan of action now when her brows furrowed and she looked up at him, pressing and unpressing her lips, as the swelling from the kiss grew. “Did you by any chance have a piece of that omelette already?” She had a suspicion it wasn’t just from the kiss.
His eyes widened, and then his head dropped to her shoulder. “Not again!”
Y/N rolled her eyes lifting his face by the chin so he would look at her. “How about EpiPen first?”
“Fair enough,” Harry grumbled unlatching himself from her and going for his keys and wallet, already preparing for the short drive they’d have to take. “But then a date?”
She raised her eyebrow, taking out the box Harry now kept under the sink with at least three EpiPen’s for emergencies. “In a hospital?”
“We could be going dumpster diving for all I care, and I’d count it as a date.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to do so much better than that; you’ve almost put me in anaphylactic shock twice. Now come on.” She motioned with her head towards the bathroom. “Stab me and take me to the ER.”
“Fucking tomatoes,” Harry grumbled, taking her by the hand and not letting it go even for the short walk.
“Tomato-tomato, you’re the one that kissed me.”
“That I don’t regret.”
Y/N smiled, turning towards him, and taking him by the nape of his neck pulled Harry down for one more kiss, groaning at the feeling of his tongue dancing against hers.
“Y/N!” He pulled back with a gasp, shock on his face.
She just shrugged her shoulders. “We’re already going to see the doctors anyway.”
Harry pushed her shoulder and made her sit down onto the toilet. “Take your pants off before my kisses kill you.”
“Yes, daddy.” Y/N wiggled her eyebrows as Harry moaned, squeezing her calf.
His eyes were dark as he looked up at her. “Next time this happens, you’ll be begging me.”
Her wicked smile was so full of happiness he couldn’t help the one that grew on his face. “I’ll be keeping you to it. Now, dear sir.” She handed him the EpiPen. “Hit me with your best shot.”
And although it’d been now two times in their lives where Harry trying to do something good and make the other feel just as good had done pretty much the opposite, when they got to the emergency room, their smiles could be felt even under their masks
Harry watched with blushing cheeks as Y/N explained the situation to the nurse, especially when one of them threw him an unsavoury glance, eyebrow raised high as if saying ‘again? One time wasn’t enough?’.
“No more tomatoes.” He promised. “And also - it wasn’t on purpose!”
Y/N squeezed his palm, chuckling. She may not be able to give a shot at eating a tomato, but she sure as hell was going to give Harry one. After all, she had almost died for the man. Twice.
Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):
Harry Styles tags: @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland @raylovessarcasm @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @harryhub
Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished
A/N: I’m at work and I wanted to write a bit for my book, but hahahahahahaha I can’t stop procrastinating. Also, this was something comepletely else centered around Christmas, then New Year and the Valentines, but I just couldn’t and it morphed into this. Maybe this Holiday season when it rolls around I’ll post it :D
P.S. if anyone’s had a septoplasty (repositioning of the septum) - how was it? how painful is it? kinda starting my journey towards it cause apparently I can’t breathe out of my left nostril, but I’m kinda scared ngl. I’ve read some horror stories about having holes and pieces of the cartilage fall out afterwards :///
P.S.S. what did ya think? my tags are always open, just drop a message if you wanna be added :)
P.S.S.S please don’t plagiarise or repost my work on other platforms (wattpad, AO3 etc)
Rest (A Helmut Zemo/Reader Oneshot)
(This wasn’t a request, it was just something I wrote for myself based on the anxiety I’ve been feeling lately)
Synopsis: Living life on the lam with your escaped super-villain lover means things rarely slow down enough for a real rest. When the exhaustion starts to take its toll on you, though, he knows exactly what to do to ease the pain. He may not be a good man, but he’s a good husband when it counts.
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft!Helmut Zemo, Anxiety, Ambiguous Ending, Crying, Cuddling, On The Run
Warnings: Talks About Death (The reader and Zemo will be walking into a potentially dangerous situation where one or both could die)
Word Count: 3200~
This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!
One wrong snip was all it would take for everything to fall apart.
Your fingers trembled around the scissors in your hand as you lined them up at the edge of the thin plastic card you held in your opposite one. This ID would be for Helmut, with a picture similar enough to his usual look that it wouldn’t get him stopped but different enough that his face wouldn’t ring any bells. Trying to hide someone on the US government’s most wanted list whose face was plastered on the walls of every airport, dock, and train station in plain sight made things difficult, but you managed.
Slowly, you closed the jaws of the scissors and watched the sliver of plastic drop to the desk. Perfect. You let go of a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.
It was a kind of art to you. You picked names, doctored photos, forged documents. At the moment you were fixing a rough edge. Technically a dremel would have been more helpful, leaving behind a smoother, cleaner finish than the small jagged lip and small slant caused by scissors, but it would have been far too loud. Your husband was enjoying his rest in the adjoining room of your suite. Waking him would mean letting him know you weren't still beside him, and neither of you would want to do that. So, you focused on your work. It was all you had left to do. You chuckled under your breath.
There would always be something else, there would never actually be a ‘one last thing’ that remained the last, but this was what you needed to get done before sleeping. You focused in on the plastic card in your hands again. Just a few more minutes…
Minutes quickly turned into hours.
It was easier, you told yourself, to just get everything done in one go. When you looked up from your next project and out the window the city lights were starting to disappear as more businesses closed up and even night owls began to settle down. The clock on the wall displayed an angry, red 3:47 down at you. Was it really that late.
A yawn escaped from your lips. You would just finish up forging the seal on your new birth certificate and then you’d go to bed. Really this time. As you mixed the watery, almost transparent ink, you tried to remember the last time you’d slept. It couldn’t have been the night before because you had stayed up and kept watch on the train ride up to Munich just in case they asked to see identification. Helmut may have been wanted, but you weren’t. It would be much easier to slip by when you did the talking. You hadn’t slept the night before that one either, too busy putting the finishing details on the facial prosthesis your husband wore while traveling.
In the end, through your hazy mind, you noted that a few days prior you had slept in the back of a taxi on the way to the little bed and breakfast the two of you had spent the night in. It hadn’t been more than a nap really, 20 minutes curled up with your head against the window and your fingers loosely intertwined with Helmut’s as he talked to the driver, but it was something.
You realized, then, that you couldn’t remember the last time you had slept through the night. That was… well, there wasn’t any way to sugar coat it, it was a pretty big problem. Your weary eyes glanced down at the half-mixed ink. All you had to do was finish mixing and put on the stamp. Somehow, though, even doing that felt impossible. You were stuck in an endless battle between your aching limbs and your fear of a long, painful death in a maximum-security prison. Without you even noticing the lamp behind you buzzed to life.
The loop had to end sometime, so you resigned yourself to the fact that you just wouldn’t sleep until after tomorrow’s flight. Today’s, you had to correct yourself. It was well past midnight now. You added a small drop of a salt solution to the ink to help it look more aged, sighing when your fingers wouldn’t stay still long enough to prevent the dropper from dripping excess onto the table. Just a few more hours. It was the least you could do.
What drove you forward was more than apathy, though. It was terror. Every night, when you forged documents and prepared itineraries for the two of you, you held your husband’s life in your hands. If you made one small error it could get him sent back to prison or worse, killed. That wasn’t even mentioning what would happen to you. A chill ran down your whole body. No, that wasn’t allowed to happen. You’d sooner forge documents until your fingers bled than ever let that happen, and if losing sleep meant you had ten extra layers of protection against losing him then you’d never sleep again.
Suddenly, a soft voice, rough and accented, sounded behind you.
You jumped. Once you realized it was just Helmut and not someone there to kill you, though, you let yourself slump back into your chair. “Go back to sleep, Helmut,”
“I’ll be just a minute, I promise. Just… please go back to sleep,” Almost every part of you hoped he couldn’t hear the quiver in your voice but a tiny shout coming from somewhere in your heart was hoping that, just maybe, he cared enough that he would. You could hear the sheets rustling behind you, but then you were greeted with silence again. Thank god. Helmut wouldn’t be happy if he knew just how hard you had been working yourself. The exhaustion, not to mention the stress of months on the run, made you shy away from him, but it was worth it to know that the two of you would be safe. Even if you weren’t happy, you’d be alive, and that was what counted.
“What are you working on this late?”
“Shit!” You exclaimed, “You can’t just sneak up on me like that! I could’ve spilled the ink,”
With the stealth of a man who had led a special forces death squad, Helmut had managed to get out of bed without making a sound, only revealing his position directly behind you when he spoke. It was probably just the exhaustion, but you had almost flown out of your seat at the sound of his voice despite its soft tone. When you turned to look at him, he was frowning.
For a moment you focused on his face. You had always loved him like this, unguarded and fresh from sleep with stubble on his chin and a fog of adoration in his eyes. There were no games with this Zemo. It was just love.
“Is everything alright, Liebling?” He asked. You heaved a sigh.
“I’m just trying to get this birth certificate done. We have all our basics; the passports, IDs, travel papers, and falsified employment records have been done for a while. I’m just making sure all of our bases are covered. It wouldn’t make sense for a couple moving from a different country with no return planned to not bring their birth certificates. I just have to finish putting on the watermark that makes them look legitimate,”
He nodded, but his brow was furrowed. “I… you’re right, but I doubt they’ll be checking us over that thoroughly when we land on a private airstrip. People with money are afforded some luxuries that others are not when it comes to emigration,” After he paused, his hand found its way onto your shoulder. “You didn’t eat your dinner,”
Your whole body stiffened.
Fuck. Helmut was too damn perceptive.
You let your eyes wander to the corner of the table you had set up shop on where the small, plastic clamshell of pasta still sat, long cold. “I wasn’t hungry,”
“We hadn’t eaten since yesterday. You still haven’t,”
With a deliberately slow pace, Helmut stepped to your side and squatted down to your level, searching your face to try to understand what was wrong. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. If you did, he’d know you fucked up, and that meant a fight was on the way despite the fact that you had only ever done what you did for his benefit. Not to mention how ashamed you were. He should be with someone who had their shit together and wasn’t cracking under the pressure. There were probably hundreds if not thousands of women out there who would die to be in your shoes. It made your stomach turn.
You couldn’t hide from him, though, not when he reached over a gentle hand and let it rest under your chin, tilting your face to see his. He looked so upset… Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the fact that you hadn’t eaten, or even just the corner you’d backed yourself into, but you were starting to feel a welling of pressure in your chest as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.
“Please, Schatz, tell me what I can do to help you? What hurts?” He asked with all the tenderness in the world, and you just broke. An ugly sob ripped its way from your throat as you collapsed into his arms and just cried. You cried for the months you’d spent constantly jet-lagged, and cried for the trips you’d spent terrified of being imprisoned or shot, and cried for the fact that you just knew that Helmut would be disappointed that you didn’t ask for his help. It had just all been so much.
Over time, though, the feeling got smaller.
It took a while as you sniffled into Helmut’s bare chest and gripped his arms like your life depended on it, but slowly you were able to make out more than just a jumbled mantra of I’m sorry’s and I love you’s. All the while he waited patiently. There was no anger, just worry. As you finally came back to him his top priority was making sure you never had to feel this way again.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whimpered. He shook his head.
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, Schatz, not for feeling upset,”
“I just… I feel like if I ever slow down and stop being on high alert at all we’ll die. Like, I know that the way we live right now is dangerous and that the risk is inherent but I feel like everything falls on me and if I make one wrong move or slack off for one second something terrible will happen. I’m so scared, Helmut, I don’t know what to do,”
He hugged you tighter. When he spoke, he sounded almost guilty. “Y/N...”
“It’s not your fault. You do everything right and you make me feel so safe and I know you’d kill someone before you let me get hurt but I just can’t help but feel like everything is on my shoulders. I work and work and get stuff done and it’s good! My forgeries are fucking great if I look at them objectively. I can’t do that, though. I just feel so… not good enough. Like no matter how many perfect documents I forge or how many border agents we fool, if I don’t keep working to make sure I do even better than before we’ll somehow fall apart and get caught,”
It was as if you were finally able to put words to all the things plaguing your nightmares for months as Helmut rocked you, letting you fully slide off your chair and join him on the floor in his arms. He petted your hair, whispering sweet nothings to you in another language you didn’t quite understand. Suddenly, he switched to English.
“There’s a poem by Bayard Taylor that I loved as a child. Now, when I think of it, I think of you… I love thee, I love but thee, with a love that shall not die. Till the sun grows cold and the stars are old,” it sounded like a melody through his sleep-rough voice, accent heavy on his tongue, “It’s okay now Schatz, you’re safe now,”
You sniffled. “I have nightmares. It makes it hard to sleep because whenever I close my eyes I see such terrible things. Having ones where I die are terrifying but it’s easier than the ones where I see you shot to bits in front of me and you tell me it’s my fault,” As you pressed closer to him, you felt him tense. “I can’t lose you Helmut, I just can’t. Please don’t leave me. I don’t wanna be alone,”
“And you never will,” he murmured, “I’m so sorry that I haven’t been there for you, Liebling. Now that I understand, though, I promise that things will be different,”
“You don’t have to-”
He shushed you, running a hand through your hair. “Let me care for you, let me dote on my wife,”
Who were you to deny him?
He carried you to the bed, laying you down on the soft sheets before pressing a soft kiss to your nose and climbing in after you, making sure to keep his arms around you as an anchor to reality.
“I cannot promise you an easy life, and I will resent that until the day I die, but I can promise you that I will never allow us to be separated, nor will I allow any harm to befall you. You’ve been so good to me, Liebchen, always so eager to help me with whatever I need. I cannot thank you enough for that, but I also cannot allow you to run yourself into the ground like this. Not for my sake. Not when I could have just as easily purchased us documents from my sources. You are my wife first and my best friend second, but my accomplice last,”
As he reassured you, you felt the last of your tears slip down your face. Helmut had such a way with words. It was like he could exude any emotion at the drop of a hat and create a sort of aura that spread around him. He wanted you to feel calm, loved, and you did. For the first time in months you, really, truly did.
“Will things be like this forever?” you asked.
Helmut shook his head no. “Not forever. Later today we shall arrive in Latveria. Once we’re through the border, hopefully, it’s only a short drive from the airstrip to the home of my good friend Victor. I called him today, and as long as we get into the country undetected he will shelter us. If all goes well, we will be living happily in a manor in the Latverian countryside for the rest of our days by tomorrow,”
You smiled. With your face in his neck, you could smell his cologne and feel his blood pumping beneath his skin. He was alive and real and you trusted him. If he said you would be safe, you would be. Even if it were a lie you would’ve chosen to believe it anyway. When he held you and kissed your lips softly with his own, you knew you would follow him to the grave if he asked.
“If… if something terrible were to happen, if they caught us at the border and tried to take you, what would happen?”
“I will be honest, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about that, but if anything that only makes me more sure that everything will be okay. If they attempt to take me into custody I will simply kill every person who stands in our way, return to the jet, and have them fly us both to the empty space where Sokovia used to be. We shall escape to the hills and return to Latveria through the mountains on foot. There are plenty of people there that support me and the things I’ve done. We will be safe,”
“And if they shoot you? Or me? If we don’t make it out?”
Something between a growl and a rumble came from deep in Helmut’s chest.
“If I were to die, I would do whatever it took to protect you in my last moments, whether that meant using myself as a shield or acting as if you were my captive to assure you weren’t taken into custody, and as I left this world I would know I was with the one person I love in this world. If… if you were injured- which you won’t be, Y/N, you are safe with me- I would do everything I could to save you… I-” he scrubbed a hand over his face, “Forgive me, but I cannot even fathom it. As you need me, I need you. Besides, it is simply impossible. I would never let them touch you,”
You sat with that information, pensive. It was entirely plausible that several hours later once your plane had touched down in Latveria and you had made it to the border agents, neither of you would end up alive. This could be the last of these moments you ever shared, and yet you were at peace. Being there, in his arms, even just for a moment… that was enough.
Outside the window, the sun was just starting to rise on the horizon, shedding its pinks and purples and yellows through the window in rays that illuminated Zemo’s face like some sort of golden god, chiseled out of the finest marbles by the hands of some master craftsman with a dream. Was he to be Hades? Luring you to hell and ruin with the temptation of pomegranate seeds? Or maybe he was Orpheus and you were simply too hesitant to keep from turning back. You hoped for neither. If you had to choose he was your Eros, a God of love who, after trials and tribulations, overcame and finally brought you up to his side as an equal when you married.
Would you be remembered? Or would your myth be lost to time once the two of you had decayed to dust and mud?
The feeling of Helmut’s lips on your forehead broke you out of your thoughts. You gazed up at him, smiling, and found he was looking right back at you.
“We’ll be resting soon, Schatz, everything will be okay soon…”
You smiled. “I love you, Helmut. Wake me up before we need to leave?”
“Ich liebe dich auch, Schatz. I’ll make sure you’re up when I order some breakfast,”
With one last gentle kiss on the lips, you settled into his chest for sleep. You both would be resting soon, one way or another. All you could do was wait.
a/n: I hope you enjoyed this! I’ve been really anxious and not doing well lately, so it was nice to write something really catered to my own needs. Now that I’ve finished it up, I can move back to requests! Thanks for being so patient.
TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater , @elaineygrace, @multiyfandomgirl40 , @lovelymischief , @rami-malek-trash , @dazzlingseb , @avgravy , @sarahsilver , @wh0re-4-techno , @forcebros , @sugarsweetkiss , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff , @killsandthrills , @novasstudy , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp , @inmate-marmalade , @mossybank , @simsiddy , @xxspqcebunsxx
Please don’t post my work to other sites, thanks!
do i know you? — bucky barnes x fem!reader (au)
SUMMARY: Y/N just wanted to have a nice evening out alone. And she was until an insufferable man comes up to her and keeps hitting on her. But when Bucky Barnes spots her in immediate need of help, he takes his chances and hopes she plays along with.
WORD COUNT: 2,289
WARNINGS: language, mentions of harassment, alcohol, um and i guess like fluff!
AUTHOR’S NOTE: just something that came to me while i was at work after well.... a week. lol enjoy!
“I just want to have a nice night all by myself!”
Y/N fell back onto her queen-sized bed with a groan. She had had a week. The guy she had been seeing suddenly ghosted her and then announced he had a girlfriend on Instagram. Not to mention that all the duties from work had also fallen onto her shoulders, with no one even offering to take some load off.
She was stressed, to say the least. She just wanted alone time, maybe head out to a bar, have a drink, and come back home. Nothing crazy. She just wanted to go out and be able to breathe even if just for a moment.
“You’re crazy! Have you not heard of all the women who have gone missing around town?”
Y/N rolled her eyes; Darcy could be a bit dramatic sometimes. “First off, that wasn’t even close to here. Second, I will be sharing my location with you the entire night. Third, I’m going to be home by 10 PM. I’m a grown woman. I don’t need you to worry about me, Darcy.”
“I’m your best friend!” She cried on the other end of the line. “I worry because I care. You gotta promise me you’re going to be safe.”
“Trust me. I’m just going out for a drink to clear my mind. That’s it. And then I’m coming straight home.”
Darcy stuttered as she tried to find a way to stop Y/N from going out alone, but Y/N had already made up her mind. Friday after work, she was coming home to freshen up then head to the bar a couple of blocks away from her apartment complex. She would have two drinks and head home to end the night with a sappy rom-com and probably cry herself to sleep. Sometimes all you needed to end the day was a good cry.
Friday came around and Y/N counted down the hours until she was free from work. The second the clock struck 5 she ran out and headed home. She freshened up like she had planned and ate a small meal before heading out to the bar.
Lucky for her, it wasn’t packed—yet. She spotted an empty stool at the bar and quickly rushed over to take a seat. She adjusted her bag across her body so it sat in her lap. Leaning against the bar, she caught the attention of the bartender quickly.
He was young, maybe younger than her. She searched for his name tag but found nothing. Her eyes met his brown ones and smiled.
“Hi, I’m Peter and I’ll be your bartender for” —he brought up his left wrist to look at the time— “the next hour. What can I get for ya?” He smiled cheerfully.
She smiled back, feeling comfortable in his presence immediately. Y/N ordered a Moscow mule and watched Peter prepare it for her.
After adorning it with a fresh slice of lime, he slid it over to her and nodded towards her drink to encourage her to take a sip. “If it’s not good, let me know and I’ll fix it up for ya. Free of charge.”
Y/N sputtered a laugh after she sipped. “Peter! This is the best Moscow mule I’ve had in town.”
He smiled, adding a wink before letting her know he was at her service until the end of the shift. She thanked him once again before he disappeared to help other customers.
Y/N sat in comfortable silence as she watched the TV above her. It was a baseball game; she wasn’t sure what teams were playing, but the ones in brown and yellow were currently winning by quite a lot.
“You come here often?” A voice on her left asked.
Y/N was unsure if they were talking to her so she kept her eyes glued to the game, ignoring the question.
A minute later, the same person cleared their throat and repeated the question. This time Y/N turned to see who was annoying her rather peaceful time out on the town.
A man much taller than her smiled down at her. It wasn’t creepy, it was actually quite a charming one, but she did feel uncomfortable that he was trying to hit on when she obviously paid no attention to him the first time he spoke. Maybe she should have listened to Darcy and stayed home.
“Uh... no...” Y/N answered before mentally face-palming herself for even humoring him with a conversation.
“Me either,” he replied. “I’m Eddie.”
“Y/N,” she flatly replied before taking a sip of her drink.
“What are you drinking?”
Her eyes widened slightly, eyebrows jumping up before replying. She was cursed with being too polite to people who didn’t deserve it. And now she was going to pay for it because like all creepy men she had encountered, he now thought she was interested.
On the other side of the bar, a group of men arrived after a long game of softball. They were dirty and sweaty, still in their uniforms that consisted of a white tee-shirt with a blue “CAPTAINS” logo on the front, their last name and number on the back, red shorts with long accompanied with white socks and dirty tennis shoes.
The team that had walked in lost to the other team but still took it in stride. Besides, what was a softball game if you didn’t go to the bar after the game; win or lose?
“First round is on me!” One of the men shouted, flipping his plain navy blue baseball cap backward on his head.
As he walked to the bar, he spotted a woman in an obvious predicament. Now he wasn’t a body language expert but he could tell that she was more than uncomfortable. She seemed to curl up into herself to get farther away from the man talking to her.
He thought of his sisters, hoping that if any good man saw what he was seeing live, that they would also do what he was about to do. The beers and his friends could wait.
“Hey!” He shouted a couple of steps away from her, his hand going up in the air to wave.
Both the man and woman looked over at him with confused looks. Okay, so maybe they thought he was crazy and they might be right, but this was the right thing to do. He would feel terrible if he didn’t intervene.
“Do I know you?” The woman looked at the man who had now inserted himself into the dreadful conversation. She could not handle another one this evening.
“Yeah!” He nodded enthusiastically, his blue eyes shining brighter than the stars in the sky. “We went to school together. We were in the same biology class. We even did some projects together.”
Y/N scanned her memories as fast as she could trying to match his face, but she got nothing. When she locked eyes with him again, she saw his eyes widen ever so slightly and his brows jump up a bit.
He was helping her.
“Oh my, God! Yes! It’s coming back to me now!” Y/N lied. “It’s been so long! Um... Ale-“
“Bucky! It’s Bucky.” He quickly interrupted, adding a grin.
“Right, right! Bucky,” she nodded, adding a face-palm for added effect.
“Are you here with” —he peered over Y/N’s shoulder to look at the man scowling at him— “someone?”
Her eyes widened, taking the opportunity to run away with Bucky. “No! I’m here alone, actually.”
“Perfect! Why don’t you come and sit with me and my friends?” His thumb pointed back towards a table of 2 other men.
They looked like good guys. A bit dirty, but that was fine with Y/N. Anything to get away from the serial dater next to her.
“Really?” Her eyes thanked him as she tried not to smile as big as she wanted to.
“Yeah! I’m sure uh... he won’t mind.”
“Oh, no. Of course not.” Y/N turned to look at the pestering man and sent him a sarcastic smile. “Sorry.”
Eddie rolled his eyes as Y/N hopped off the barstool. She followed Bucky back to his table on the other side of the bar and met his two friends Sam and Steve.
“I didn’t order the beers, but I’ll be back.” Bucky nodded before walking away again.
“Sorry for intruding.” Y/N apologized. “I just—your friend, Bucky, he saved me from that annoying guy at the bar and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get up and leave. I’m too nice to do it all my own, I guess.” She grimaced.
“No worries!” Sam waved her off. “We love to make new friends.”
She smiled at him before finishing her drink. She silently cursed herself for not getting another one before she got up.
“Three beers and a Moscow mule!” Bucky slid the pints over to Steve and Sam before gently placing the Moscow mule in front of Y/N.
She looked up at him from her seat and her mouth fell open slightly. It was almost as if he read her mind because he answered right away.
“I saw you were basically finished when I went up to you” —he slid into the booth seat next to Sam and across from Y/N— “And I didn’t want you to get up and go to the bar and bump into your friend over there.”
She let out a laugh, thanking him for the drink and also for saving her. “You’re great.”
“He is,” Steve agreed. “The best, actually. Buck’s got a big heart. He’s always helping everyone.”
Sam nodded enthusiastically across from Steve while Bucky blushed and looked down at the dark wooden table. Y/N had to agree even if she had only known him for 5 minutes. Only those with a good heart would do what Bucky did. How many people saw that she was in a dilemma and still decided to walk by and ignore it?
“So what brings you here?” Sam asked as he leaned back into his seat, arms stretching out in front of him to rest on the table.
“Shitty week.” Y/N shrugged. “I didn’t want to stay home and drink by myself. That’s kinda weird and depressing. I also wanted my own peace of mind without a friend talking my ear off so I thought about coming to this bar. I only live a couple of blocks away. I didn’t think I would get harassed.” Her eyes widened at the last statement.
Steve frowned. “I’m sorry. For all of it.”
The other two men nodded and she forced a smile onto her face as she sighed. Sam immediately changed the subject, asking her what she did for a living. She tried to keep her answer short, not wanting to bore them all with her job description. But she couldn’t have been more wrong about the three men surrounding her. They listened intently and asked more questions about her life. They were absolute gentlemen. The three of them had a heart of gold.
“You should come to one of our softball games!” Sam offered, nudging Bucky’s side.
“Yeah!” Steve agreed. “We have one next Saturday morning, actually. Are you free?”
Bucky watched Y/N, biting down on his lip. He hoped she would say yes. He was interested in her that’s for sure. But he didn’t want to hit on her after the situation with Eddie.
“Sure!” Y/N replied with a big smile. “I’d love to!”
“Cool!” Sam cheered before looking over at Bucky. “Hey, Buck. My phone is dead. Maybe you could get her number and then send it to me.”
“Mine too. Sorry, pal.” Steve shrugged.
Bucky glared at his best friend, knowing that he and Sam were up to no good but he did as told. With shaky hands, he typed in her name and number into his phone and sent a smiling emoji via text for her to save his number into her phone.
Y/N sighed, reaching into her purse to grab money to pay for the drinks. It was the least she could do to repay them all for taking her in even if just for an hour. But the men stopped her, telling her that she did not have to pay for anything.
“It’s on Bucky today.”
“Are you sure? At least let me pay for the first drink I ordered when I got here.”
“Y/N,” Bucky said sternly, “It’s okay. I got it.”
“Can I buy next time I see you guys?” She offered.
“Sure,” Steve replied with a nod.
“Okay,” Y/N smiled. “Next time, then. It’s on me.”
“No take-backs!” Sam added and Y/N laughed before holding up her pinky. He reached across the table and locked his own pinky with hers and they shook on it.
“Thank you,” Y/N said, locking eyes with Bucky as she readied herself to go home. “I’ll see you soon.”
She left Bucky speechless as she said goodbye to Sam and Steve and then walked out, disappearing in a matter of seconds. He sighed as he leaned back against the booth seat, tipping the rest of his beer back and sliding it across the table in front of him.
“Someone’s got it bad,” Sam sang annoyingly.
“You’ll see her soon, Buck.” Steve comforted his love-struck friend. He knew Bucky all too well. And when Bucky fell, he fell hard.
“I won’t judge if you keep a countdown of the days,” Sam teased, earning a punch to the shoulder from Bucky. “Ow!”
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky disappeared and came back only to say goodbye.
Word Count: 2,887
Warnings: angsty angsty angsty angsty angsty
A/N: Post-endgame timeline with lotsa angst! Included Andy Barber here because why the fuck not but he’s really not a major character lol
Deserve Better || Undeserving || Deserve The Best
The day you got Bucky back was the same day he said goodbye. He left you— said it was for the best— just as when your fingertips touched him for the first time after five years of longing.
Your reunion with Bucky after the snap was nothing like the movies, far from it actually. A lot of things happened when he was snapped back, in between the battle with Thanos and Tony’s funeral. Besides, you weren’t an Avenger; you didn’t work for SHIELD nor the CIA. In fact, you remained oblivious of the battle that was going on until the moment of chaos caused by the sudden reappearances of half of the world’s population.
And then you received a message from Steve, about the tragedy and the sacrifice of Tony Stark. He was inviting you to the funeral and as much as you felt devastated from the loss of a hero, you couldn’t help but focus your attention on the last line of Steve’s message.
Bucky’s going to be there too. He’s back. He needs you to be there with him.
It wasn’t until the funeral was over that you finally got to have Bucky all to yourself. You had locked gazes when you arrived and staring back into his beautiful blue eyes again made your knees weak.
Bucky was really back.
“Hi.” He greeted you first, his voice remained the same— soft and gentle.
One word was enough to make you feel the warmth of his existence. Hearing him, seeing him again felt like finally coming home after a very long, tiring day.
“Hi, Buck.” You whispered.
Bucky’s smile was all it took for the dam to finally break. You’d burst into tears right then and there and you were more than ready to feel his arms around you after years of hugging yourself to sleep during his absence.
But the warmth never came. If any, Bucky stopped himself from doing so. You frowned when he took a step back from you, extending his metal arm to keep you at a certain length away from him.
“I’m sorry.” He uttered, refusing to meet your gaze.
“What do you mean?”
“I have to go.” He explained, gently squeezing your arm before rubbing circles on your skin using his thumb.
You didn’t understand why Bucky needed to go when he just got back. You just got him back. You had spent years crying over his disappearance only for him to come back and disappear again?
Bucky explained that he thought he got better but things have become so vastly different after the snap that it left him feeling broken and different again. He told you about Steve’s decision to go back in time, never to return again. How Tony’s death made him feel like it was too late to set things straight and how he would probably carry the guilt and regret from not being able to apologize for what he had done.
“I’ll help you, Buck. We’ll work through this together. I want to be by your side when things get better.” You insisted, tears blurring your vision as you tried to reach for Bucky, wanting to feel him again after such a long time.
But Bucky kept on moving away from you, he kept on pushing you away and you wanted to understand why he wouldn’t let you touch him.
“I’ll only hurt you, I don’t want that to happen. I want to get better because you deserve better. But I can’t do that with you because this...this is something that I gotta figure out by myself.” He further explained.
You shook your head, unable to accept his decision. “Buck...I don’t think I can lose you again. I just got you back...I can’t afford to lose you again, please?”
When you attempted to reach for Bucky’s hand, he finally let you. You quickly entwined your fingers through his metal ones and savored how they felt against your skin. They were cold as usual, but Bucky always oozed a certain warmth that made you feel safe.
But now they’re just that— cold and hard.
“I love you. I’ll wait, Bucky.” You murmured and tugged at his hand before he could even let you go.
Bucky smiled sadly at you, “You don’t have to, doll.”
You shook your head and brought Bucky’s hand to your lips as you cried, “I want to. And I will.”
Pressing one final kiss on his hard knuckles, you watched Bucky slip his hand away from yours before turning around to leave. You felt your chest tighten as if you lost all the oxygen in your lungs the same way you lost Bucky.
Losing him the second time around proved to be even more painful. Because this time, he didn’t just disappear.
He walked away.
You waited for Bucky to come home to you for days and weeks until they turned into months...and then years. Still, no Bucky walked through your doorstep but you never stopped hoping.
Sleep was such a rare occurrence to you since Bucky walked away. How do you honestly cope with the loss of someone when you haven’t even healed yet from his first disappearance? You wanted to get mad at him, curse him for suddenly deciding to leave you. But you felt selfish for even thinking about that, because Bucky left to better himself.
To be better for you. He said so himself.
So you kept waiting for him to come back. You made it your reason to keep going. You looked forward to the day you’d hear your door open followed by his heavy foot steps. You wondered, would he smell the same then? Would he still be using your favorite perfume on him? One that smelled like cedar wood and mint and well, Bucky. Would his hair still be of the same length? What about his beard? Would he shave them off before coming back home?
How about his gaze? Would his blue ones still look at you as if you were his moon?
As much as these thoughts made you miss him more, they were the ones that you held onto. They were like your glimmer of hope on nights you were the loneliest, on nights you cried and dreamt of his return only to wake up to an empty, cold space beside you.
You held onto these thoughts every single day in hopes of them becoming real soon enough.
People have told you to move on, to not waste your time waiting for someone who walked away just like that. But you trusted Bucky when he said he wanted to be better because you deserved better. You couldn’t move on, not from Bucky.
You love him with your entire being, so much that his absence caused you physical pain too. You couldn’t even find the right words to describe how much you love Bucky.
In the three years that you spent waiting, you’d met a lot of people too. People who showed interest but none of them really won you over.
You’d met a man named Andy through work. He was a lawyer and was dealing with his own divorce. The connection was there and you wouldn’t deny that.
Two people dealing with the grief from losing someone they love, it wasn’t that hard not to find a common ground. And you did find some solace in Andy and him in you. But it was just that, nothing more and nothing less.
“How has it been?” You asked Andy after he had settled into the booth across of you.
The restaurant was surprisingly scarce on a Sunday morning. Usually there were plenty of customers, their chatters overpowering the soft music playing in the background. Now, it was peaceful and the radio was turned off. There were only the clinks of plates of being set on tables and the footsteps of the staff walking around the place as they attended to the few customers around.
It was serene and peaceful, pretty much like Andy’s aura when he arrived.
“I wouldn’t say I’m fine but I guess I’m at a much better place now than before.” He said with a nod, as if he was finally agreeing with himself after questioning his emotions for the past few months.
You offered a kind smile and placed a hand on top of his, “It shows, Andy. I’m glad. I’m happy for you.” You said.
He had been going through a lot of emotions since he signed the divorce papers. He didn’t want to but knew it was for the best. Andy had a son, Jacob, and he didn’t want for his son to grow up in an environment where his parents no longer slept on the same bed. As much as he loved Laurie, the relationship was no longer working and was becoming toxic the more they stayed together.
“And you?” Andy asked back before calling the waiter.
You let out a deep breath, “Still waiting.” You chuckled as your stared at your hand that remained on top of Andy’s.
Andy spared you an apologetic glance but nodded, “I do hope he knows how lucky he is.” He said, turning his palm up so he could hold your hand.
To others, the gesture may seem romantic but it really wasn’t. You and Andy both knew that despite the similarities and the comfort you found in each other, the both of you were not meant to be together in that way.
Your heart still belonged to Bucky after all.
When you received an invitation from Sam Wilson, you felt confused and excited. There was going to be a huge gala at the compound to honor Steve Rogers’ legacy as Captain America.
You’d heard the news about Steve’s passing not long after he went back in time. He finally got to live the life he deserved and when he came back, it was as if everything had been corrected. He may no longer be the super soldier that many knew but he remained the same person— but he wasn’t the man out of time anymore. Despite his white hair and wrinkles, Steve looked the happiest he had ever been.
You wondered how Bucky coped up with such a huge loss, you always worried for him.
It sparked debate though, Steve’s decision to leave the Avengers. Some got angry, said that Steve was selfish for doing that. Others showed sympathy, that Steve didn’t owe the world anything. He’d spent a lifetime fighting for everyone. It was time that he fought for himself and what he deserved. And Sam fought just as hard for Steve’s legacy and finally, all his hard work finally paid off.
What confused you was whether Bucky was going to be there? Does he know about the gala? Was he finally back? If he was, why hasn’t he come home to you yet? You had so many questions that you wanted to ask.
The answers though, were literally in the palm of your hand— the invitation.
It was no surprise how big the gala was. Just on your way inside, you’d already come across a lot of big personalities. There were politicians and popular celebrities too. You felt intimidated given that you went by yourself and that you weren’t really part of their world.
You were just you, someone who had fallen in love with one Bucky Barnes who introduced you to the world of superheroes. The rest was history.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” You turned around and found Sam approaching you with a huge smile.
You embraced him and smiled as you pulled away, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” You told him.
It was Steve and Sam that you’d met first and they were nothing but kind to you. Despite being well, ordinary, they welcomed you like their own when Bucky had introduced you.
Sam’s expression changed at your response, “I honestly thought that you wouldn’t show up after Bucky said—“
“Bucky?” You immediately cut him off upon hearing his name.
“Bucky’s back?” You asked and Sam had never looked more confused as ever.
He carefully nodded, brows knitting together as he frantically looked around. “I thought you knew about it.”
“How long? How long has it been since he came back, Sam?” You probed, feeling your throat constricting at the unexpected revelation.
Sam merely looked at you with what seemed to be pity. Why? Why was he looking at you like he was sorry? And why didn’t Bucky tell you when he came back? Was he simply not ready? Or was he waiting for the right time?
“Sam, how long?” You asked again, voice firmer this time around.
“A year ago. He decided to join the Avengers but wanted to undergo formal training before taking on the responsibility of one.” He responded.
You opened your mouth to say something but it’s as if your whole body was paralyzed. He had been back for an entire year now...and yet he kept you waiting?
A hand on your arm pulled you back to the surface, looking up at Sam you shook your head in utter confusion.
“I don’t understand why he didn’t tell me.”
Sam sighed, “I thought you knew. He said he saw you and—“
Sam’s words died on his tongue when he saw that your attention was no longer on him. Following the line of your sight, Sam turned around and saw that Bucky had walked into the venue. He swallowed and couldn’t hide the guilt he felt from assuming that you knew about his return. Before he could apologize, you’d brushed past him as you kept your gaze on Bucky.
Why he didn’t inform you of his return was beyond you and to be honest, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about it for now. Because Bucky was right in front of you and it felt like forever since you last saw him.
A lot has changed. He chopped off his hair but he still sported some scruff. Bucky looked closer to his younger self back in the 40’s. You remembered the conversation you had with him about cutting his hair.
“Should I cut it?” Bucky stood in your bathroom, observing his long locks in the mirror as he ran his fingers through them.
You walked over to him, hugging him from behind and pressing your lips on his back before moving to stand beside him.
“Do you want to?” you asked.
Bucky scrunched his nose, “Maybe in the future. I do miss my hair back then.” he smiled.
You chuckled, “Back when Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes used to sweep the ladies off of their feet?” you teased.
Bucky turned to you and wrapped an arm around your wait pulling you closer to kiss your lips, “Hmm, I wanna see if that hair will have the same effect on you.” he said and kissed your cheek.
You hummed as you caressed his face with your delicate hands, “I’d like to see that too, but maybe you should keep the scruff.”
But it wasn’t just his hair that changed. It was his entire demeanor— his aura seemed a lot lighter now, he seemed happier and confident. You knew it for a fact because he wasn’t wearing a glove to hide his metal hand. It was out on display for everyone to see and shake, apparently.
You watched in awe as Bucky interacted with the people around him. He used to avoid eye contact with strangers but now he seemed relaxed doing so. Although he would still open and close his metal hand, something he did whenever he was anxious. The crowd still made him uncomfortable but he’s shown a lot of improvement since then.
The question as to why he never told you about his return continued to linger in the back of your head. But you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling from ear to ear, eyes brimming with tears as you quickened your steps.
Your Bucky was finally back.
And then the world seemed to have stopped when a certain blonde walked over to Bucky, her hand sliding over to his cheek as she leaned up to press a quick peck on his lips.
You knew her of course, Sharon Carter; and you knew about her and Steve. It was Bucky himself who told you about them and how proud he was that Steve finally decided to try his luck at romance. Which is why you felt even more appalled at the scene playing before you.
The way Bucky slid an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him and how he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. How he was smiling down at her, whispering to her ear as they laughed.
Bucky was in love with Sharon. You didn’t have to ask him that anymore because he was looking at her like she was his moon, his source of light in the darkness.
You knew that because he looked at you the same way, back when you still had his heart.
Suddenly, the questions plaguing your mind found their answers. You understood now why he never came home to you.
He did get better, you could tell that by the way he smiled and laughed.
Bucky was better now, but not for you. At least, not anymore.
Everything Bucky Tag List:
@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3
The Story of You
I am very sorry for the delay but here is the very much awaited Part 4! Things are starting to get interesting and if you get distracted you might miss them...
Come chat with me about your thoughts! All the love, Mar
Disclaimer: In no way do I wish to spread hate or negative opinions about any of the characters here depicted, this is just fiction and with the purpose of entertaining you guys
Part 4: Yearning
May 29, 2021: Twelve Weeks
Harry. Cheshire, England. 1:12 Am
I sighed after reading the message, I knew this couldn’t wait until the morning or else I wouldn’t be able to sleep, I checked the time in LA, it was around 5 back there, so she was probably home. I grabbed a jacket and put on my slippers before going downstairs.
I shot her a text to ask if she could talk now and as I was waiting for her reply, I decided to make myself a cuppa and grabbed a blanket, although it was still warm outside nights brought an uncomfortable chill with them.
I settled on the bench mom had in the corner of her garden and took a deep breath before dialing her number, it rang three times before she answered, “Hold on a second”, she must have blocked the microphone because I can hear her muffled voice telling the kids that she is busy and to go look for Babs, I then hear a door close and a sliding door open and close, she must have sat on the balcony couch.
“Hello love”, “Oh, now I am love? Are you serious Harry? What’s going on? You spent about two extra weeks in New York and then simply let me know that your plans changed, and you will leave earlier to England and today she posts that photo, and your mom, sister and you comment that, what is happening?”, I can hear the anxiety induced tears in her voice but know that she won’t let them come, just as I was about to speak she whispers “Please tell me it is not what I think”.
I feel tears come to my eyes and take a deep shuddering breath “I’m sorry”, I sniffle, the line is so quiet I’m afraid she hung up, I decide to break it by saying “Please say something”, then the unexpected happened, she starts crying. I feel tears begin to fall while she cries, the guilt on my chest is killing me but I don’t know what to say, “Liv I-, I’m so sorry, I really don’t know what else to say”.
“When?”, “March, we met by chance in LA, the night when we were fighting about…”, “Are you sure its yours?”, “Yes, we did the paternity test a week ago, got the results the next day, baby is definitely mine”, “Are they okay?”, I smiled a little, “Yes, everything is great, growing as they should”, “Good, that’s good”.
“Listen, I know this is a lot to take in, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I was really trying to understand everything, because even if it doesn’t seem that way, I am scared Liv; I’ve never been so scared of anything”, “I know, thank you for telling me, however this does not mean that I am not hurt or upset Harry”, “I know”.
“Liv are we good?”, her silence is deafening, my hands are sweating, and I my heart is beating really fast. After a few seconds, which felt like hours for me I hear her sigh and say in a whisper “I don’t know Harry, I really don’t know”.
We hung up the phone and I went inside, I washed my cup and went to bed, I was feeling drained but just before I drifted to sleep, I texted Jeff and asked him to send a couple of flower arrangements to Olivia with the note I attached.
June 3, 2021: Week Thirteen
New York City, New York. 9:00 Am
Good morning baby! How are you today? I am sorry, mamma slacked last week but you were killing me with the morning sickness bub, but hey if that means that you are healthy, I’ll take it any day. Today you are thirteen weeks! This means we are already a little over a fourth of the way through this journey, yay!!! Last week we had an appointment and daddy was able to meet you, he was crying tears of joy and couldn’t believe how big you already are! Daddy is currently in Europe working on filming a movie, but he has been texting me and asking about how you are (and how I am). We finally told the world about you lovie, everyone is really happy and excited to meet you, especially your Nana Anne and Auntie Gem and I feel that this is the perfect moment to write about them!
Your Nana Anne is daddy’s mum, she lives in England and has many cats, I’m sure you will be happy to play with them, she loves to knit (I’m pretty sure she will knit you anything you ask) and is very passionate in bringing awareness to causes close to her heart, she will be so happy to tell you everything about them. As for your Auntie Gem, she is my best friend, she is the better Styles but don’t tell that to your daddy. She works as an influencer, has a podcast, a blog, and her own sunglass line, she is the coolest person in the Planet, after me of course, I’m sure she’ll be your sidekick in many adventures to come.
I am hoping that we may be able to see each other soon, but this crazy world we’re living in has us stranded in different sides of the world. But that doesn’t mean they don’t love you bubby, they love you so so much already. I promise to keep up with my writing baby, I love you so much.
After writing I closed my notebook and went to have breakfast, I am so glad that the aversions are finally letting on and that I am able to eat whatever I want, which in this moment was some waffles.
After breakfast I got ready and started working, surprisingly I finished early and decided to take a walk around the neighborhood, the weather was nice, and I desperately needed some fresh air. There has been a though bugging me since I found out I am pregnant, and I decided to check in with Harry to ask him.
To H. Styles (4:34 PM): Hi, how are you? I hope shooting is going well. I wanted to ask you if you would mind me reaching out to Olivia and apologizing; after all this is a two people thing and I am as responsible for this as you are.
From H. Styles (4:36 PM): Hi! Shooting is going well, how are you? Any changes? Regarding Olivia, if you feel comfortable doing so, I won’t be opposed, not gonna lie, things between us are not good right now, so the only thing that worries me is if she thinks I sent you.
To H. Styles (4:38 PM): Everything is going well, no changes since you last saw them. I’m sorry to hear that, I promise I won’t mention her that we spoke, but I did want to let you know.
From H. Styles (4:39 PM): Thank you, it means a lot to me.
I decided I had enough sunshine for today and I walked home but stopped to get some dinner, I really wanted sushi, but I wasn’t allowed to have it right now, so I settled for Chinese. I arrived home and I decided that I was time to let my parents know.
I am surprised that they hadn’t already called me after the post, but then again, they don’t have social media and my siblings agreed to keep the secret. After my mom answered that they were available I took a deep breath before calling her, I knew that seeing her through Facetime would be a lot.
“Hi mom, how are you?”, “Hi darling, we are well how are you? I’m surprised that you called”, “Yeah sorry about that, it has been a few rough weeks”, “Oh really? And what could be so rough that you didn’t call for three weeks huh? We don’t ask much of you”, “I’m pregnant”, the line went quiet, the only thing I could hear were my breaths and my mom’s breaths.
“Mom?”, “Is it his?”, his as in Harry’s, it was no secret they were not the biggest Harry fans from the beginning of our relationship and had made nonstop comments on our break up, “Yes”, I heard her sigh and my dad come into the call, “Hello honey, how are you?”, “Pregnant, that’s how she is”, my mom answered bitterly, my dad laughed “Bear, what a funny joke”, “Daddy, it’s not a joke”.
“Honey, what happened?”, I started crying, “I don’t know daddy, I was in LA for some job meetings and decided to stay the week, I met him by chance, we went for dinner, and I’ll spare you the details, but he knows and has been really present all throughout”, “Oh baby, so you are back together then?”, my stomach dropped, “Uhm no, he is still with Olivia”, “WHAT?”, I had to remove the phone from my ear with the scream my mom gave, “So you are the other woman?”
“No mom, I am not the other woman, we are trying to figure everything out”, “Yeah, until he abandons you, how could you be so reckless? And worse of all, a cheater”, ouch, my mom knew how to touch nerves, “It’s not like that”, my dad had remained quiet, and I never expected him to say, “I’m sorry Y/N but your mom is right”, “What? Daddy-“, “No, I’m sorry but this has crossed a line; you knew he was dating someone, and you still chose to have sex with him, so now you will have to live with the consequences”, “What do you mean?”, “We will not condole or tolerate things like this, so I am asking you to please refrain from contacting us”
My heart dropped, “Daddy you don’t mean that”, “Yes, we do, I hope you learn from your mistakes and choices”, and they hung up the phone; the first ten minutes I was in total denial, my parents couldn’t have really meant that could they? I decided to call them again, and that’s when I knew: they meant it, I was sent straight to voicemail, and when I tried the third time it wouldn’t even go through.
I was panicking, my whole life was falling right in front of my eyes, and I felt like I couldn’t do anything about it, but why? Why did they abandon me? I felt like I was running out of breath and like throwing up at any given moment, I ran as fast as I could to the bathroom and hovered over the toilet for a few moments.
After the nausea passed, I was able to leave the bathroom, I sat down on the couch and grabbed my phone, I was starting to dial Harry’s number, but I decided against it, it didn’t feel right after what my parents told me.
As if someone was listening to my thoughts I got a call, I looked to see who it was and was very surprised to see Sarah’s name, we were really good friends while I dated Harry and was one of the people who I was so sad to let go when we broke up. I answered the phone.
“Miss Sarah Jones, what a pleasant surprise, how are you?”, “Hi lovely! I’ve missed you, how have you been?”, “I’m okay thank you, how about you mama? Ready to pop”, she laughed “Not quite but getting there, little baby is getting excited to come out; speaking of… congratulations to you too mama!”
I smiled, “Thank you, still feels like a dream you know?”, “I do honey, it was like that for me, I mean it had already like sunk in when we heard the heartbeat and had our ultrasounds but when I popped it was like a revelation moment. But really, how are you? You know we are friends with you too”
I started crying when I heard her say that, if there was something I was grateful for it was the friends I made while dating him, and the fact that they considered me their friend and not just a friend because I was a lover, “Uhm, I don’t know where to begin, I mean, my life did take a 360 in two months, I feel like the most stupid person for even agreeing to go with him to dinner and even worse to have agreed to go home with him, for not being able to give my baby a traditional family, oh and my parents basically disowned me and told me to not contact them again”
“Why me Sarah? I was doing just fine, I was starting to get my life back and finding some normalcy, especially after trying to accept and cope with the fact that he was moving on so quickly”, I sobbed for a few more seconds “I’m sorry, that was a lot”, we both laughed a little bit.
“I really want to go to New York and hug you honey, first and foremost, please for the love of God if you ever feel this way again, call me, text me, facetime me I don’t care, I don’t want for you to feel like this, I know that timing was not perfect, but what I’ve learned is that even if we don’t think so, timing is perfect, and that little baby has a reason to be here lovie”
“As for a ‘traditional family’, that is not how family is defined, what matters the most is that this baby is already loved and cared and cherished by a whole lot of people, he or she will never question if mom or dad loves them more or why are you not together, because you and H are two of the purest, most wonderful human beings there are on the planet”
“Thank you, Sarah, I really mean it, I am so sorry I cut ties with you guys, I won’t do that again”, “You better not, we are belly buddies now, I love you Y/N, you are not alone”, “I love you more, please say hi to Mitch for me”, Will do love”
I hung up with a lighter heart and a newfound sense of gratitude for every person I have met.
June 6, 2021: Week Thirteen
New York City, New York. 15:34 PM
To Olivia Wilde (13:31 PM): Hi Olivia, I know I am probably the last person you wish to speak to, but it would mean a lot to me if we could talk?
From Olivia Wilde (14:05 PM): Hi, it’s okay, maybe we could talk later, like 4 your time? Kids will still be in school.
I was shaking as I continued watching the clock tick, I knew this had to be done but it didn’t mean it was easy. I thought back to the day I met Olivia, it was late, and they had just finished filming so Harry texted me if I wanted to go to dinner with them, I couldn’t say no
I am not going to say that were the best of friends, but we had a cordial relationship, I was closer with Florence (who by the way was very open on expressing her feelings towards Harry and Olivia after the breakup) but she was nice whenever I visited set, or we met for a social gathering.
A buzz pulled me out of my thoughts, and I took a deep breath before answering, “Hello?”, “Hey, uhm its Olivia, sorry dumb comment you must have caller ID”, “Hey, how are you? Not dumb at all, better to be sure”, “I am well, how about you”, “I’m taking it day by day”, there was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before I decided to talk, “Olivia, I’m so sorry”, “No Y/N-“, “Please let me say what I need to say, because it has been giving me so much anxiety”, I took her silence as a cue to continue.
“I am really sorry, and there is no excuse for what happened, and I feel so guilty because you don’t deserve this, and I’m mad because I have caused trouble between you and Harry when the only thing, I ever wanted for you guys was to be happy together. It would be easy for me to say that it was his fault, but I know that I have half of the responsibility here and I needed to tell you this and to also ask you to please don’t overthink things, it was a drunk mistake that shouldn’t have happened, but I won’t be a liar and tell you that I am not happy that it did, because I am happy to have a baby, because I know that this baby already is the love of and my life and I can’t wait to meet him or her”
“Y/N, I am not angry, well not with you at least, I want to thank you for reaching out, it really means a lot to me, especially because I was nervous that you had reached out because he had asked you, but you just showed me that you are the bigger person on this situation just please, do me a favor?”
“Sure”, “Please don’t break his heart, he is just as excited for this, but very nervous nonetheless”, “I promise you that I won’t break his heart”.
We hung up and I decided to shoot a text to Harry before going to bed, this phone call left me drained.
To H. Styles (6:47 PM): We talked, everything is good.
June 12, 2021: Week Fourteen
New York City, New York. 9:30 Am
I had just returned from the Farmer’s Market when I got a text from Gemma, and I was thankful I had left my shopping in the table because it would have probably ended on the floor.
From Gemma Styles (9:35 AM): Hey stranger, you up for a FaceTime call? Mom and I would love to see you.
From Gemma Styles (9:36 AM): Hi! Yes! Just give me a couple of minutes.
I went to my room to get my laptop and charger and fixed myself a glass of water and grabbed an apple before settling down on the couch and dialing Gem, it rang three times before she answered, and I felt tears brought to my eyes when I saw her and Anne smiling at me.
“Oh honey! Hi! You’re glowing!”, “Damn sis, pregnancy has done you good huh?”, I laughed a little, “Hello to you too, you are both the sweetest because I am definitely feeling unattractive and sick”, we all shared a laugh; God how I have missed them.
“I guess some congrats Nana Anne and Auntie Gem are in order huh?”, I saw Anne tear up, “Oh lovie, I want to hug you so bad, I am so so happy for you and Harry”, “Just wanted to let you know that I will corrupt your child”, “Gemma!”, we laughed as Anne hit her in the arm, “But, in all seriousness, how are we doing? In all aspects darling and don’t you dare lie because I will figure out.
“I am okay, morning sickness is getting better, belly is still to pop but I think it will be soon judging from the ligament pain I’ve had; I am in a better headspace now and I am so excited to meet this baby, to kiss his or her cheeks and to do everything”, I was tearing up.
“We are so happy to hear that, I know pregnancy is hard, but it will be so worthy; I will send you some advice by message, after all I was also pregnant with a Styles baby”, “Thank you Anne, I will be looking forward to it.
We chatted a little bit more about life, how was this world still treating us and how they really hope to be able to be here when baby arrives, “Speaking of, when are you due?” I could feel Gemma’s excitement through the screen.
“Well Betty my midwife has given me like two possible due dates, one is December 6, just at 39 weeks but she thinks that I’ll deliver on my actual 40-week due date which is December 13”, “Oh my god! The same day that Fine Line came out”, “I really hope that by that time we are able to travel, I would honestly be heartbroken if I missed the birth”, “I would be too Anne”.
After talking for about another hour we finally said our goodbyes, I put away my shopping, prepared some lunch and sat on the couch to eat and watch a movie while also stalking Twitter to see where he was.
Even if we were broken up, I still yearned for him.
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