#like....... that he made amends with himself or something | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oveliagirlhaditright · 1 year

Text

You know... I've often been wondering lately if part of the reason for Angelus' name change from Angelus to Angel when he goes from evil to good is partly inspired by the Bible (and I don't think I've ever seen anyone else discuss this. I think the closest I've seen is this really amazing fic I read on fanfiction, that explores the emotional upheaval and whole journey Angelus/Angel went through first ensouled, that was very much Biblically themed, and ended with him realizing that the old must pass away and "another story must begin," to quote Les Mis here; and him then coming up with his new name. But it didn't go as far as to tying in the Biblical name changes).

Because while the creator of the series, Joss Whedon, is atheist and both Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel the Series definitely have atheist themes, there are for sure Christianity ties going on with Angel's character. I mean, duh. Look no further than what his name is.

But for those who don't know... a number of times in the Bible, people are renamed (quite a few times something similar to the name that they already had--like Abram becoming Abraham or his wife Sarai being renamed Sarah--not unlike Angelus being altered to Angel). And often times it is after that person has undergone a huge transformation. And the name change is almost as if to truly add to that--as if to say, "you really aren't that person you once were anymore." (I guess I should also note that it's not only in the Bible that this happens, but the Abrahamic faiths in general. But since I think that it's really Christianity that the writers were writing about with Angel's character, that's what I'm focusing on here.)

But evidence that Christianity--or perhaps faith in general--is central to Angel's character, of course: Angel--Liam, actually--as he was known back then, was born in Galway, Ireland in 1727. And the area at the time was largely Catholic, I do believe. And Liam, no differently, was from a very Catholic family. But he couldn't live up to his family's expectations--and was a huge disappointment to them (particularly his father)--as he was lazy, drank a lot, whored, etc. All of this culminated in him meeting Darla one night, who of course turned him. And with the rage he still felt towards his family, he ended up killing them all (his mother, father, and sister. Though this isn't really a surprise in the Buffyverse, as most newly turned vampires end up slaughtering their family members: probably for any grudges they might have against them, and because the family probably won't know you've been changed and you have easy access to them, and thus are easy first kills. I should also probably mention that for anyone reading this who might not know the Buffyverse, all vampires in this series have no souls). But the way he got an invitation into his house, is because his little sister invited him in, thinking he was the angel of her brother returned to them (because they had thought Liam died, as he'd been missing for days). And this is when he comes up with the idea to call himself Angelus. Can you say religious trauma?

Angelus eventually ends up siring someone named Penn--his first childe--who sort of obsesses over Angelus, and becomes a copycat killer of his. Way in the future (in the 2000s), when Angel is calling himself "Angel" and has a soul and is good--and is trying to make amends for all of his past crimes--Penn is in L.A., where Angel is and murdering people the way Angelus used to (because he learned his craft from Angelus and never changed his ways, nor had any desire to). After he brutally kills people, he carves crosses into their cheeks. Kate Lockley, a police detective trying to profile the killer, thinks that the suspect might be a religious fanatic. But Angel says that it's the opposite of that: that this is a mockery of God. This also tells us, of course, what Angelus himself was thinking when he was doing these things himself. And perhaps another reason why he chose the name Angelus.

But despite all of this, despite Liam/Angelus/Angel in whichever incarnation he's in clearly having religious trauma, it's clear that he actually still holds to some Catholic beliefs. It's an interesting case. He definitely believes in God--and in the comics, Xander (finally trying to offer an olive branch to Angel) mentions how therapy has actually helped him out a lot, since he's had repressed anger over the years that he didn't know how to deal with and is now figuring it out, and that Angel should maybe try that; but Angel says that he would rather go to church (not in a sarcastic way, but something that sounded like he actually wanted to do... even though it could potentially hurt him as a vampire, with the crosses there)--and with the soul, he tries to make amends and do what is deemed right there. And he's looking for redemption and forgiveness, however you want to look at that, which could be in a religious sense or perhaps not. (Also, it's definitely hinted at that one of the reasons that he didn't just kill himself after regaining his soul, so he wouldn't have to suffer the torment of dealing with the guilt of all the horrific stuff he'd done for more than a hundred years, was because he believed people who committed suicide went to Hell, and he didn't want to go to Hell.)

But at the same time, Angel will say things like, "I never had much love for preachers," after decking an evil one in the face and coming to Buffy's rescue there. It's very interesting.

Angel's journey and relationship with all of this is interesting.

He himself is very interesting.

Edit: I don't know if I got across the point I'm trying to make here. It's like this: as Angelus, circumstances beforehand had led him to be very anti-religion (and that's putting it lightly) and he showed his hate by it with his name and by mocking God in the way he went about his murders. But then when he got his soul, he was no longer atheist at all. And really, probably never had been. And all of a sudden, it's like, "What have I done? Sweet Jesus, what have I done?" to steal another quote from Jean Valjean's Soliloquy from the Les Mis musical. And he begins drowning. But when he eventually surfaces and realizes he needs to try and aim for accountability and change himself (including his name), he does so in the way the saints themselves did, in how they changed their names: the saints he's probably now trying to be like himself.

Does that make sense? Man, I really hope I managed to get everything across that time, but I'm still not sure.

Edit 2: I suppose I should mention one of the main things that made me think of all this: Saul of Tarsus. He was a Pharisee, who originally persecuted and killed a number of Christians, in thinking that the belief that Jesus of Nazareth was God/the son of God/the messiah was the highest form of blasphemy. Eventually--and I'm just going to pretty much steal exactly how wikipedia writes it here--"at midday, a light brighter than the sun shone around both him and those with him, causing all to fall to the ground, with the risen Christ verbally addressing Paul regarding his persecution. Having been made blind, along with being commanded to enter the city, his sight was restored three days later by Annais of Damascus. After these events, Saul was baptized, beginning immediately to proclaim that Jesus of Nazareth was the Jewish messiah and Son of God." A number of people for years have thought that along with Saul's transformation from persecutor of the faith to proclaimer of the faith and becoming one of the apostles, his name changed from "Saul" to "Paul." Though it's also widely believed that this is perhaps a mistranslation. That just in some translations his name is written as "Saul," while in others it's written as "Paul." However, if the writers of the Buffyverse know this story--and they very well could, of course, because it's widely known, even outside of religious circles--I feel like they easily could have based Angel's character off of the apostle some, even if people question if Saul actually had a name change or not. Because there are certainly parallels between Angel and Saul (or Paul. Whatever you want to call him). Religious ones, of course, like I've been saying, since Angel's whole character is quite steeped in religion. And how Saul went from killing Christians to being one and championing them. And Angel went from killing humans to protecting them and wanting to become one again himself.

28 notes · View notes

the-other-art-blog · 5 days

Text

Violet to Colin: "You're one of my most sensitive children."

The fandom: "How can she say that! Anthony, Benedict bla, bla bla..."

Colin is ONE of her most sensitive children. ONE, just ONE of them. And she's right.

ONE OF HER MOST SENSITIVE CHILDREN

He was the only one who indulged Violet and let her introduce him to debutantes in s1, while Anthony fucked his mistress and Ben went to orgies.

He was a complete gentleman with Marina. AND defended her when Anthony implied something about her.

And when he learned the truth, he confessed that he would have married her if she had told him the truth. 🥹

He danced with Pen after Cressida bullied her.

He wrote dozens of letters that his family of 8 could not care to respond to often. There are 8 of them!

He worried about Ben in s2 and supported him on his application to the Academy.

He learned the truth of Jack Featherington and instead of simply leaving, he did something about it. Not only did he help the Featherington family, but he saved other lords from being scammed.

He apologized to Will, explained why he acted rudely AND made amends to repair the damage by bringing men to Will's club.

He returned with gifts for everyone, but he seemed particularly thoughtful to his sisters and mother. A perfume for Hyacinth, music for Francesca, and a book for Eloise 🥹. Violet was so moved by his gift and here we have a lovely headcanon on the watch:

Then with Pen...

He runs after Pen, despite other men wanting to know about his adventures.

He acknowledges his mistake and immediately tries to apologize to Pen in the Four Seasons Ball.

The next day, he comes back with a heartfelt apology.

Then, he offers her help, despite the risk of scandal and embarrassment for him. He knows Pen has no one else.

He goes to see Pen at night to make sure she's ok. And when she asks him for a kiss, he does it so sweetly.

He is brave enough to leave the men who just want to know about his sexual life.

HE WAS BRAVE ENOUGH TO ASK, as soon as he put himself together and understood his feelings. He didn't play jealousy games like others, he went and put his heart on the table. He didn't even know about Pen's feelings and he risked it!

Some extracts from Colin's journals show that his family is always in his thoughts.

You can see why Violet, as the good mother that she is, can tell how sensitive he is.

Colin travels during the summer and comes back during the season to be with his family. It angers me that people think he's selfish for this when Benedict also abandons the family to fuck.

And yet, both Colin and Ben are sensitive. BOTH OF THEM, Francesca too. I wouldn't call Hyacinth or Gregory sensitive right now, and before s3, I wouldn't include Eloise either.

Anyway, I needed to get this out because I am so fucking tired of Kanthonies and Benophies making tantrums about this line.

I'm sure when s4 comes, we are going to see a moment between Violet and Ben where she acknowledges how amazing he is and everything he has done for the family. But not now, because this is COLIN'S SEASON.

(NOTE: If you are thinking of reblogging this post with the tag #Colin is the most sensitive, kindly fuck off. I made this post to fight the Kanthonies and Benophie that are attacking Colin, not to validate your own need to make Colin superior to other characters. HE IS ONE OF THE MOST SENSITIVE CHILDREN, ONE)

#colin bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #polin #violet bridgerton #bridgerton season 3

1K notes · View notes

textmel8r · 20 days

Text

[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( sixth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; profanity , mentions of sex

୨୧˚ an; so sorry if anyone asked to be tagged recently and you didn’t get tagged!! tumblr is being screwy again and i can’t see any of my comments😭😭 also apology time from nanami woo hoo!!!

Nanami stole yet another glance at the expensive watch wrapping around his wrist. Your promptness was certainly an issue; how does she show up nearly thirty minutes late to a meeting she called?

And then he scoffs at himself, giving a little shake of the head. Meeting? There he goes again, speaking in corporate tongue.

But finally, you do show up. Bursting through the entrance of the quiet café, making an embarrassing show of noisiness with your heaving breaths and wheezes. Not that it had been much of a disturbance to anyone else—only two other patrons resided in the small establishment; one too engrossed in her book to care, and the other scrolling mindlessly through his cellphone with a pastry in his free hand. Even so, you bashfully clapped two hands together as you peeked around the room. “Sorry!”

The older woman behind the counter nods in appreciation. Nanami can’t help but exhale roughly through his nose in sort of an almost-chuckle. God, you were a mess, weren’t you?

“Sorry, I’m so late!” You approached the table he resumed, one near the front window like you’d asked for. Your heels clopping against the grainy tile, knee-length dress flowing like water around your legs. He stands, walking to the opposite side of the tiny, rectangular table and pulling out the chair for you.

“Impressively late,” Nanami derides, but it’s not full of any malice. Truth be told, he did have the patience of a saint when situations like these were called to question. He didn’t mind waiting, because despite your utter tardiness, he trusted that you'd show up eventually, rather than ditching him altogether and leaving him to sulk in the humiliation of being stood up over a cup of black coffee. You were scatterbrained at times, yes, but dependable? Always.

Nanami returns to his side of the table after pushing your seat in. It wasn't meant to come across as a romantic gesture; Nanami had made it a habit of serving the women in his life nothing but a respectful demeanor. Whether it be lovers, colleagues, friends, and anyone in between. Though admittedly, his behavior towards you these past couple of months has been anything but respectful. It’s too late to start making amends to things, but the least Nanami can do now is try.

You shudder. Flustered, maybe? “Y’didn’t have to do that,” you tell him, placing your phone and clutch bag onto the table.

Nonsense. “My mother would have my head if she knew I let a lady pull out her own seat.” While true—his mother, bless her heart, raised him to be the gentleman his is today—he also just… wanted to do it. It felt right to serve you a seat.

Your elbow slams rudely on the table, finger reaching across to wag in his face. “Sounds like a good woman!” You laugh, and Nanami gingerly swats your hand away. He’s about to say something, but you beat him to the next sentence. “Hey, what gives? I thought this was supposed to be a day of relaxation?”

He worms under the scrutinized glare you wave up and down from his face to neck to chest to abdomen, finally peeking under the table to gawk at his shoes. Nanami curls his toes, a feeble attempt to shrink away from the judgement casted in your eyes. “What? Stop looking at me like that.”

“You’re dressed in fancy-man clothes.” At that, he takes it upon himself to look down at his wear; an ironed dress shirt clung to his chest, tie resting flat and perfectly centered between his pectorals. His slacks were ashy grey and devoid of any wrinkles, cut and hemmed around his ankles just above those stiff, leather shoes snug on his feet. The matching suit jacket was slung neatly over the backrest of Nanami’s chair, sleeves tucked away into its pockets.

His least expensive suit, sure, but still far too pristine and tidy for a little coffee shop outing. "Is it so bad that I like to remain presentable?" Nanami offers the question while he busies his hands, plucking open the pearlescent buttons at his wrists and rolling back the sleeves off the off-white button down.

"Presentability and discomfort don't always go hand in hand, you know. I mean, look at me," your voice echoes the mocking tone of cockiness, clearly a joke but also not at the same time. With a gesture towards yourself, you beam and shimmy in the simple, breezy dress. It had a floral pattern, Nanami notices. "Cute, stylish, and comfortable."

He isn't jumping to disagree with that. "Sorry, all my sun dresses were in the wash." He surprises himself with the jest, but it has you splitting an unladylike snort, so he doesn't come to regret it.

The toe of a thick, wedged heel jabs into his sock-clad ankle. "You business men are all so sassy." Nanami glowers at the adjective chosen to describe him, but doesn't refute. You sigh. "It's fine, I guess. Nothing we can do about it now. Wear some sweats next time though, would you?"

Next time. There’d be a repeat of this?

“Sure.”

“Great.” Your toothy grin beams over your clutch purse, of which is now wrangled in your grabby hands. Rifling through its unorganized contents, dumping out tubes of chapstick, loose change, and sticks of gum onto the table before fishing out a wallet. “Right, I’m starved. Did you look over the menu any?”

Nanami looked it over five times during the wait, if not for anything other than something to pass time. “Not really. Tell me what you recommend.”

You bite. Rambling about the array of pastries and baked goods that have been worthy enough to be placed in the category of y/n’s favorites. Nanami soaks in your excited, leaning in ever so slightly with open ears a you passionately ramble about cake.

“I take it you come here often?”

The question has you nodding. “Like, all the time man. This is my spot, you should be so grateful that I’m not a gatekeeper.” You look back at the menu once more before verbally deciding: “I want pistachio cheesecake and peppermint tea.”

The man poorly stifles his chuckle, rising from his seat. "Alright then, stay here. I'll go order."

"Oh, okay thanks." You shove your wallet into the wall of Nanami's chest, "take my card with you."

He is bewildered that you would even think he'd let you pay for your own meal. "I've got it," Nanami tells you, gently pushing the leather thing back to you.

"Nanami, stop."

"Stop what?"

"Take my fucking wallet," you gnarr, and he thinks you look much like a soaked kitten in this state of agitation. "Don't make me slap you."

It's an unserious threat, but Nanami plays a long. He raises two thick, blonde eyebrows. "Jesus, okay, you win. Just please keep your hands to yourself.” He revels in your little smirk of satisfaction, snatching your wallet back before making his way to the front counter.

Nanami kindly asked for two slices of pistachio cheese cake and two drinks; for you, peppermint tea, and him a coffee, black. Of course, everything was charged to his card. You didn’t need to know that, though.

You scarfed your portion down with swiftness, slinging spoonfuls of chartreuse custard into your mouth with such savagery that Nanami feared you might choke. He was a much more serene sight, preferring to savor each bite between slow swigs of piping coffee. The dark roast complimented the nutty pistachio flavor stunningly. For such a nameless little eatery, the food was exquisite. He takes another calculated bite of cake.

“You like?” The question was garbled behind a mouthful, cheesecake clinging to your milky teeth as you smiled brightly. A childlike excitement radiated warmly off you, clouding across the table to heat him up, too. It was sweet how wired you were, hopeful that he’d, too, enjoy your choice of confection.

Nanami huffs, amused. “Swallow before you choke.” You make a show of swallowing, a big hearty gulp with your eyes squeezed shut. “And yes, I like it a lot. Your tastes are surprisingly refined.”

“Surprisingly?” You gape, offended.

Nanami wants to crack a quip, something referring to your sub-par taste in men, but this little get together was nice. Yeah, it was really nice, actually. So he refrained from ruining it like the asshole he’d been lately, and drowned the snide remark with another toss of coffee. “Sorry, sorry.”

The remainder of the evening was cushy; you both fell into easy conversation about the randomest of topics. Discussions that never breached corporate subject matter, and he was eternally grateful for that. You spoke in tangents, whistling appreciation for a new movie you caught recently, to describing a long list of bands you enjoy, to lamenting about the headache that your minty iced tea sprang upon you: “Ah, brainfreeze!” Nanami doesn’t add much to the conversation, but he is content to listen and provide little hums of encouragement to urge you to keep talking. His eyes, inquisitive honey-colored things, found your lips and stayed there. Despite the uncouth display in which you carry yourself ( Nanami had been itching to tell you to close your legs, what with the way you sit spread-thighed in your seat donning that dress. So careless and unabashed. If the cafe had been a little more crowded, had a little more men around, and he might’ve slipped his foot over the imaginary boundary line to your side underneath the table and nudged them shut himself ) there was an elegance in the way you spoke about topics of interest. Passion flourished from the little curve of your lips, teeth bared in a great smile because you really were just that happy. Nanami feels envious when he watches you.

“I’m shocked at how well this is going.” You grin cheekily, licking cream from the pad of your thumb. “Kind of makes me sad that we didn’t get off on the right foot, you know? I think we could've been good friends.”

“Is it too late for atonement?” Nanami bites back a frown. “I understand if you can never see me as anything other than an asshole. But I never got to formally apologize for my behavior these past few months, Y/n. And I’d like to, if you’ll let me.” Why was this humiliating? It was a seldom occurrence when Nanami was in the wrong, but he was never one to let his faults drift by unaddressed. You deserve an apology—a proper one, not over measly text messages. Still, he miscalculated how awkward this would be.

You flail. “A formal apology? Nanami please, a simple ‘I’m sorry’ will work. It doesn’t have to be a whole thing, I’m mostly over it anyway.” But that was a lie and an obvious one, at that. You weren’t over it, he could see it in your eyes.

The blonde clears his throat and rubs his hands together mindlessly. “No, please. It’s long overdue, and if we’re going to be working in alliance, then you deserve to feel secure with me.” Though Nanami’s hands wrench restlessly, his gaze never detracts from yours. He bares his sincerity in the intense eye contact, offering a peek into his soul. Vulnerability. “I’ve been nothing but rude and ignorant and vulgar towards you, ever since…”

“That night.” You finish for him. “It really upset you, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess it did.”

“Why? Do you have a revulsion to sex or something?”

“What? Wh—I—No, t-that’s not…” Nanami sputtered, his ears growing warm from your accusation. “I don’t… mind sex?”

You play with the dainty straw flouncing around your drink, seemingly oblivious to Nanami’s flummoxed reaction. “You seem to have a strong opinion of whores, though.”

He groans, embarrassed with himself, and drags a palm down his pallor face. “Who you choose to sleep with does not make you a whore. It never did, I was just being petty and grasping at straws for anything that would get a reaction out of you.” Nanami runs his tongue over the roof of his mouth, inwardly wishing that the mug of coffee before him would turn to water so he could cure the dryness that ached in his throat.

“Why go through the trouble?”

Nanami opens his mouth, then closes it. Then opens again, “I don’t know.”

A piss poor attempt at playing the fool. Surely there was a reason for his unabashed cruelty towards you, but what the fuck was it? “Well, when you figure it out, let me know?” To his utter surprise, your expression doesn’t hold an ounce of animosity; you’re smiling at him. Finding humor in any situation had to be your special talent. Nanami nods dumbly. “In the meantime, you’ll just have to start making it up to me. You were a dick, big time.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmmm,” you make a comical show of humming, touching your index to the point of your chin, and now Nanami knows you’re fucking with him. “Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm. I guess I can start the forgiving process if…” A pause for dramatic effect? The man raises his brows expectantly. “You and I make this,” you gesture between both bodies at the table, “a weekly thing.”

Nanami was expecting a punishment, but this suggestion was anything but. “I’ll need to take a look at my schedule first.”

“Listen, man, do what you gotta do. But I’m telling you, we are getting together at least once a weekend.” You scrub the corners of your lips with a napkin before crumpling it into a tight ball and discarding it on your empty plate. Nanami looks down at his own to see a healthy portion of his cake left. Wordlessly, he slides his plate across the table, and you accept the offering with open arms. “Oh shit, thanks! Like I was saying, this is fun, what we’re doing here. You’re having a good time, right?”

Sitting in a desolate coffee shop and listening to you prattle on has been the most fun he’s had in a devastatingly long time. “Yes, I am.”

“Good. You look fun-deprived.”

Fuck, I am. “I’m not.”

“Keep lying, I see through them all.” You scoop the last bite of Nanami’s cheesecake into your mouth, sighing with satisfaction and rubbing over your full tummy. “Anyway, I think hanging out would be good for us. Healthy, you know? Besides, I’ve been dying to know what off-duty Nanami looks like.”

He cracks a chuckle. “He’s nothing special.”

Your finger snaps in his face, invading his bubble of personal space, but this time he doesn’t shoo you off. “Another lie!”

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

tags . • @justbelljust @amnmich @ti-mame @silkija @maddietries @vyntagei @ebrysteria @aesukuni @lololooolleonnaaa @nanamiswife22 @r0ckst4rjk @mizzfizz @saiki-enthusiast @taelattecookie @enchantingkitty @kindadolly @reinam00n @hqtoge @syamamas @numblytemporary @xxravenxstarxx-blog @bloomedintome @guacam011y @jameinfrau @luvvmae @kazisupreme @nowhoremones @https-tank @venjrnjrbhrr19 @ya9amicide @darkstarlight82

868 notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 5 months

Text

Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

2K notes · View notes

eufezco · 4 days

Text

BUCKY'S SECOND FIRST TIME

bucky x fem!reader (smut with plot) no use of y/n

All of this... Bucky hadn't had time to think about when it would happen again, he didn't even think it would ever happen again. He didn't even think deserve to have that kind of intimacy with anyone, didn't think that anyone would want to be in that situation with him.

It's been decades and now his head was full of bizarre thoughts. He had nightmares every time he tried to get some sleep, so the idea of spending the night with somebody was completely out of the table. He was witnessing a complete stranger take over his friend's shield and identity. He had not crossed a name off his list of amends for weeks, he had not answered any of Sam's messages and his psychologist was putting more and more pressure on him.

But in all that chaos there was you who always showed him a kind smile, who always asked him how his day was when you saw him come into the bar, exhausted. You who had his favorite drink ready before he arrived and who looked at him with hearty eyes. You thought you were being too obvious but it had been so long since anyone had looked at him that way that he didn't even notice it.

The day he took Sam to your bar was when he realized, and not even on his own. You were thrilled that he finally introduced you to one of his friends (his only friend in fact) and Sam was so funny and he was always picking on Bucky which made their dynamic even more fun to watch. They arrived almost at closing time so it was just the three of you. That night you ended up closing two hours later, inviting them for a few beers and being walked home by the two of them since it was already very late at night.

—Dude, she's so into you —. Sam huffed a laugh while they walked back from your house.

Bucky arched his eyebrows in surprise and then frowned. —What?

—Oh come on, you gonna tell me you haven't noticed?

Bucky was getting more and more confused. —Noticed what?

Sam stopped on his feet and looked at Bucky in surprise. —Steve told me you used to be a heartthrob back in the day.

—Yeah, back in the day. When I was seventy years younger.

Sam rolled his eyes. —Two things. First, as much as I hate to admit it, you don't look a hundred and seven, and second, I can assure you that this girl is head over heels for you. —Bucky was silent, thinking, so Sam spoke again. —Ask her on a date.

So yes, he asked you out on a date. Well, if inviting you to his house for a drink could be considered a date. He didn't like to be seen in public places too much and fancy restaurants didn't go with him, so while he thought of something better for the second date, his house would work for this time. Bucky shook his head as he found himself thinking about a second date.

Bucky always tried to keep everything tidy, clutter annoyed him and made him even grumpier. But now as he let you walk into his house first he realized how empty it was. He barely had any furniture, only one chair, a small sofa, and a TV. He hadn't even bothered to buy a bed because he slept on the floor. He wondered what was going through your head when you saw his home.

—This is nice —. You stated. At first, you didn't realize how empty his apartment was, you were just appreciating that he had trusted you enough to take you to a place as private and intimate as his home. Then you did notice that some things were missing but you assumed that's all he needed.

Bucky was relieved when he heard those three words come out of your mouth.

You noticed how he kept his jacket and gloves on while he took out two glasses to pour you a drink. Whenever he came home the first thing he did was to take those two things off but with you there, it was different yet when he thought about it, he realized that it was fair that you knew and ran away if you wanted to. So when he caught you looking curious, he first got rid of his gloves, and you could already see the metallic fingers of his hand. Then he took off his jacket, revealing how the metal shaped his left arm.

—You're not going to ask about it? —Bucky thought he was getting ahead of you, saving you from the awkward moment of asking about what happened to him. He poured some liquor in the glasses.

—Do you want to be asked about it?

Bucky looked at you and shook his head. You nodded, understanding his decission. You figured he wouldn't want to talk about it, much less on a first date. Your question caught him off guard yet his answer came almost automatically. He didn't want to talk about it and it was the first time he had been given the option of not doing so.

The rest of the night went great. Bucky was very interested in everything you said. He didn't talk much yet you managed to get some information about him. He had a sister, his favorite fruit was plums, he enjoyed 40s music, and he was a cat person. Every time he told you something about himself, no matter how irrelevant it seemed, you found it fascinating.

You noticed that he was very observant, his icy blue eyes never stopped looking at you for a second. You found it cute, intimidating at times not knowing what thoughts went with those long, intense stares. His eyes were beautiful, captivating, so you could tell every time he broke eye contact to divert his gaze to your lips and then back to your eyes.

Each was on one side of his kitchen island, that way you could look at each other's faces while talking. You were leaning more and more on the table that separated you, taking advantage of the moments of laughter to get closer to each other until that way you kissed him.

At first, you felt him a little stiff even though the sigh that he had let out when you had finally kissed his lips told you otherwise. You parted ways. —Is this okay?

Bucky nodded and immediately after, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours again. It had been so long since he had kissed anyone that he didn't know if his lip movements were being too clumsy, if the clash of his teeth with yours was bothering you, or if his tongue slipping past your lips was okay. He did not know how to control his breathing that's why he let out little moans against your mouth, trying to catch his breath without having to leave your lips.

He felt like a teenager again. The tingling sensation in his lower abdomen made him want to run away and hide but at the same time did not want to part from your lips for anything in the world. He was afraid of the way you made him feel but at the same time he didn't want that feeling to ever go away.

Didn't know how or when but he ended up sitting on his couch with you on his lap. Your lips and his had come into perfect synchrony and the kiss was getting deeper and wetter. Oh God and he wasn't gonna complain. Your hands were pulling from the root of his hair, your hips rolled subtly against his crotch, his right hand was resting on your hips. Bucky felt how his jeans tightened right where you were sitting.

Bucky tried to keep his left arm away from you, holding your body on top of his just using his right one. He was aware that the touch of the metal was not the most pleasant in the world. It wasn't soft, it wasn't warm, it was nothing like a flesh-and-blood hand.

—It's okay. You can touch me, James —. You moaned against his mouth. Yet he was still a bit reluctant to do so.

In the end, you would have to be the one to gently grab his metal arm and guide his hand to your waist. You kept your hand on top of his metal one while pressing down so he could hold you as tight as he was doing with his other hand, also to assure him that it was okay. You moved your hand from him once you felt his metallic fingers carefully close and grip your body. You smiled in the middle of the kiss, the firm grip of both of his hands encouraged you to grind harder against his crotch.

You pulled his t-shirt over his head and allowed your fingers to travel down his abs until you reached the button and zipper on his jeans. Bucky hissed at the sudden contact and held your hips tighter.

—Wait —. Bucky said against your lips. He pulled away and you were afraid that you had done something wrong. All you had to do was pull down the zipper, but your hands immediately stopped what they were doing when he spoke. You ran your tongue over your lower lip, already missing Bucky's, and you noticed how pink and swollen his were. —It's been a long time since I —. He confessed.

—Oh. —You said in a sigh. —We can't stop if you—

—No. I just— I just wanted you to know. —Bucky groaned. —I'm sorry. I've ruined it. —He let his head fall on your shoulder.

You giggled and you brought your hands to his cheeks so that he would raise his head and look at you. —It's okay, James. You've not ruined anything. I'm glad you've told me. —You gave a quick peck to his lips. —I was just saying that if you want to stop or need to slow down I'm okay with that.

—I don't want to stop.

—Good. Me neither.

And Bucky crashed his lips against yours again. You finished what you started and unzipped his jeans while he pulled from the hem of your shirt and threw it away. Bucky cursed and brought his mouth to the skin of your breasts, using his lips to suck and kiss on it and his teeth for small bites. You moaned and pulled harder from his hair, making him groan. His hands wasted no time and right after they were unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans while his mouth left a trail of kisses from your boobs to your neck and collarbone until he reached your mouth again.

Your lifted your hips from his lap so your hand could sneak inside his underwear. Bucky did the same with your panties. Your fingers wrapped around his hard dick and Bucky's found their way to your clit. You moaned and closed your eyes shut when he started rubbing your bundle of nerves and Bucky's lips parted and let out all the air that he had in his lungs when your hand moved painfully slow from the tip of his cock to the base of it.

You pressed your foreheads together. Your thighs closed around his hand but he continued drawing circles on your clit and his mouth reached for your lips again. Bucky's hips thrust into your fist while some of his moans died in your mouth. He felt a wave of heat running through his body and that sweet knot formed in his lower belly.

—I need you inside, please —You whined.

You didn't have to beg anymore. You moved from his lap so you both could get rid of your jeans and underwear. You straddled him again, using your hands on his shoulders for stability when your fingers brushed the scarred skin that connected with the metal of his arm.

You noticed the worried expression on his face. He was looking at you with his eyebrows raised as if he was waiting for a reaction from you. A reaction of disgust. He could feel his chest rise and fall slowly because of his deep breathing and he was wondering what was going on in your head at the time.

You pressed your lips against his one more time, your hands moved to cup both of his cheeks. —It's okay. Just focus on me —. You mumbled into his mouth and he hummed in response.

Without stopping kissing him, your hands began to travel down. First his neck, then his broad shoulders, feeling again those scars he was so insecure about, and then his arms. His right one was strong, with perfectly defined muscles and the softest skin. His left one was cold and hard, not at all unpleasant to the touch. Your lips moving on his kept Bucky from overthinking.

He gasped when you reached his well-defined abdomen. You would have spent the whole night caressing and feeling his body under your fingertips but you were getting impatient. Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock to line it up at your entrance and gently lowered yourself. Bucky's mouth opened in a perfect "O" form as he gripped your waist tightly. You had to wait a few seconds to get used to the sensation before you started moving, he needed those seconds as well to get used to your tight walls squeezing him.

You started by rolling your hips against his, it was the best way to adjust to his size. Despite how wet you were you could feel that sweet sting caused by his width. You rested your forehead against his, you both were panting when you began to lift your hips and drop them back onto his cock. The sounds that came out of his mouth were music to your ears, the grunts coming directly from his chest made you vibrate.

You hugged him to feel him even closer. Bucky tried to hold on as hard as he could, he kissed your shoulder and softly sank his teeth into your skin there, getting a whine from you, but it was too much. Every time he felt his dick going fully inside you, the knot on his stomach became tighter, every time he heard you moaning his name in his ear he did his best to last a little bit longer but in the end, he found it impossible.

Bucky emptied himself inside you while he dropped his forehead on your shoulder and apologized for coming so quickly. —Don't worry. We have all night —. You played with the hair on the back of his head and allowed him to come back from his high.

And you spent the whole night until you heard the birds chirping. The stamina he had thanks to the super soldier serum was truly something else and he made it up to you until you felt completely disconnected from your own body and Bucky had to snuggle you next to him on the couch to let you sleep.

Bucky didn't sleep that night. He was afraid that if he did, he'd hurt you or scare you with his nightmares so he stayed awake all night, but he didn't mind either. He had his right arm around you and he held you against his body, your head was on his chest as well as one of your hands. He felt the warmth of your naked body against his under the blanket.

624 notes · View notes

antiquarianfics · 7 months

Text

A Slip of the Tongue

a/n: how would y’all like an un-proofread one shot i wrote? ‘twas inspired by someone else’s story with a similar concept, but i lost it. :( anyhoo. i made you some content.

warnings: brief mention of death, otherwise none.

masterlist

—

“Me and Nina played on the swings today!” Your daughter, Ellie, tells you as you strap her into her car seat.

“Yeah? That so?” You ask. This is one of your favorite parts of your day; that is, listening to Ellie tell you about her day at school.

“Yeah! Nina is new. Her daddy got a new job and had to move them here. She speaks 2 languages!”

“Wow! That’s really cool, baby. What other language does she speak?”

“I think she said… Um. Something that started with an R.” Ellie scrunches her face up in consideration.

“Russian?” You ask, finishing buckling her in. You close the door and move around the car, getting in yourself.

“Yeah, I think,” Ellie replies.

“Did you know Bucky speaks Russian?” You ask her, sharing the tidbit about your boyfriend with your daughter.

Ellie loves Bucky, and he her. When Ellie’s father passed away, you truly never thought you would move on, and it killed you Ellie would grow up without a father. Then, you met Bucky, and he was wonderful. It was a complete meet-cute. You ran into him—literally—in a coffee shop 5 minutes away from Ellie’s school. You were in a rush, trying to get your coffee, your belongings, and your bearings to go pick up Ellie, and in your frantic fumbling, you crashed into a stranger who, rather than getting upset by being hit and drenched in a late, simply steadied you by the arms and asked if you were alright.

Bucky insisted on buying you a new coffee because “It’s my fault for being on your way, Doll. Besides, my ma’d kill me if she knew I passed up an opportunity to ask a pretty woman on a date.”

The admission took you by surprise, and Bucky later revealed it took him by surprise, too. Something about you, he said, brought out his old 40s confidence. He didn’t worry about scaring you like he would anyone else. In fact, he said, in that moment, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier, and he never was. He was just Bucky.

That day, though, you’d declined, telling him you had to pick your daughter up from school, but you quickly amended your statement to let him know you were at that very coffee shop everyday for an hour before you picked up Ellie. “So,” you had said, “if my being a single mom doesn’t scare you, you can buy me that make-up latte another time.” And, by god, Bucky Barnes was at that coffee shop then next day, waiting with your latte.

Fast forward to today, and Bucky practically lives with you and Ellie. He still has his apartment, but he spends 6 out of 7 days at your house. It’s so natural, though, you wish he’d just ditch the apartment and make it official. After all, he is an excellent roommate. He does the dishes, cleans up after himself, doesn’t hog the blankets, and—most importantly—he is fantastic with Ellie. He plays with her, he reads her bedtime stories, he cuts her food for her, and so much more. He is everything to you and Ellie.

So, when you tell Ellie that Bucky also speaks more than one language, you can’t help but grin when she rambles the rest of the car ride home about how she is going to ask him about that language he speaks—what language does Bucky speak again, Mama?—and then she is going to learn it too so she can show Nina.

Ellie’s rambling lasts all the way home, into the house, and into the living room where she drops her backpack on the ground and runs to Bucky, jumping in his lap with no warning. Bucky grunts at the impact, but he smiles fondly at the young girl.

“Hey, El,” he greets. “How was school?”

“Bucky, I made a new friend! She’s so cool. Did you know she speaks 2 languages! That’s really cool. I can only speak 1 language. Her daddy got a new job, so they came here. She’s my new best friend. I don’t remember what language she speaks, though.”

Ellie speaks a million miles a minute as she tries to fill Bucky in on her day. Bucky makes eye contact with you over her head and you merely smile and shrug, making Bucky grin.

“Russian,” you offer, as you move to sink down onto the couch next to your boyfriend and your daughter.

“Russian!” Ellie exclaims, nodding her head excitedly. “Mama said you speak Russian, Bucky. Do you speak Russian?”

“I do,” Bucky confirms, laughing at the amazed look that crosses Ellie’s face.

“Say something! Say something!” She begs.

“Yeah, Bucky, say something in Russian!” You join in on Ellie’s begging with a laugh.

“Вы двое знали, что я люблю вас? Мои красивые, глупые девочки,” Bucky says, chuckling to himself as he watches Ellie’s amazed face.

“Wow,” she says, eyes transfixed on Bucky.

You laugh. “Yeah, wow,” you confirm, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Bucky’s cheek before standing to go to the kitchen.

You make it just across the room when you stop dead in your tracks, turning to make eye contact with Bucky and attempt to gauge his reaction to Ellie’s words.

“I can’t wait to tell Nina tomorrow that my daddy speaks Russian, too,” Ellie says, lying her head on Bucky’s chest.

You and Bucky make eye contact across the room, and you hold a silent conversation.

Bucky’s eyes are widened in shock, but he raises an eyebrow at you as if to ask, “Did she just call me her daddy?”

You shrug, mouth slightly agape. Ellie has never called Bucky her daddy before, but it doesn’t surprise you. Bucky is always around, and he acts like a father figure regardless of your relationship with him. So, you say nothing, just shrug your shoulders and hope Bucky gets the message:

“I don’t know, but I’ll tell her not to if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Bucky shakes his head to let you know he doesn’t mind. Really likes it even.

Finally he speaks, “Yeah, tell her your daddy speaks Russian. I’ll even teach you some if you want.”

Ellie shoots up in Bucky’s lap, grabbing his face between her hands, and seriously begging him to follow through with his promise immediately.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She exclaims. “What did you say a minute ago?” She asks, assigning her first Russian lesson.

“Вы двое знали, что я люблю вас? Мои красивые, глупые девочки. It means, “Did you two know I love you? My beautiful, silly girls.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky x you #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky x fem!reader

1K notes · View notes

hannieehaee · 6 months

Text

them accidentally ditching you on your bday pt. 2 - hhu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, conflict resolution, direct continuation to this, fluff, happy ending, etc.

part 1

wc: 3889

a/n: literally so many ppl requested thisjhdf im glad u guys liked it!! im working on vu and pu versions for this rn btw <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

seungcheol sat there for a minute or so, simply pondering at what had just happened. it was 100% his fault, that was something he was very well aware of. he knew that it had simply slipped his mind, but that did not wipe away the hurt he saw in your eyes upon entering your shared apartment. knowing that you had been waiting for him all day made him feel like an asshole. he couldn't believe that he had forgotten about your birthday even upon coming home at midnight the night prior. he felt like such a hypocrite, always whining at people to give him royalty treatment on his birthday but absolutely ignoring you during yours. you, his most favorite person.

he felt hurt that you had decided to spend the night with some friends, instead of in the arms of your boyfriend, but he understood. this was what he deserved. god knew that he wouldve pulled out all the dramatics if you had done the same to him, which was why he was now at a standstill, not knowing what he should do. he wanted to see you so badly, get on his knees and apologize, letting you know over and over again that you were the most vital person in his life and that forgetting you was something that not even he could forgive himself for.

now, he could've sat there and lamented himself over his stupid mistake, or he could run after you before you made it out of the building. he did not want you going to bed angry, or much worse, sad, so he picked the latter and got off his ass to chase after you, not caring about his current exhaustion as he took the stairs rather than the elevator in order to be able to catch up to you before you made it to your car.

luckily for him, he was able to catch you just as you stepped out of the elevator (having ran down five flights of stairs and almost injuring himself in the process), completely unsuspecting to his sudden ambush. he hadn't noticed until now, but you had dressed up, clearly ready to go clubbing or partying with your friends. he felt bad to get in the way of your plans. no, he felt horrible to accidentally ditch you and then ruin your plans. but he needed to at least try and make amends. he knew that if this were him, he'd want you to try and make it up to him.

you jumped back a bit at seungcheol's sudden apparition as you rounded the corner upon exiting the elevator, seemingly not having expected him to come after you.

"cheol, what are you doing?", you didn't seem mad, but your tone let him know you were clearly not content with him.

okay, he didn't think as far as this. his main goal was just to convince you to stay, then he would come up with a way to make it up to you.

"baby, i ... i'm so sorry. i know how hypocritical this is coming from me. i never meant to forget, you know that! there's nothing i can do to make up for having forgotten about you today, but please, please let me try."

"cheol .. i don't know," you paused, "last year when i texted you at 12:03 you complained about it for over an hour. you're the one always making a big deal about this. i assumed you'd care when the shoe was on your foot, but apparently not."

"i do! i do care. baby, please. let me take you out. ditch your friends. i'll take you somewhere. anywhere. i'll even take you out tomorrow too! i'll take the day off. how does that sound?"

"you cant take the day off, cheol. you're an idol-"

"i dont care! they can come and try to drag me away from you if they want. i want to be with you. please let me. please don't leave. cant stand the thought of you going to sleep alone after what i did."

you chuckled at the first half of his statement, feeling touched at the second part of it.

"are you sure?"

he scoffed, deciding to go on a leap and hold onto your hands, pulling you closer to him, "yes! there's nothing i wanted to do more today than be with you! it mightve slipped my mind that today was the day, but i had a beautiful day for us planned, baby. will you let me show you? please?"

cheol knew it was hard for you to say no to him, specially when he whined and pouted at you, giving you his best performance in order for you to understand how badly he felt. it didn't take much more for you to break, finally letting a smile graced your face as you squeezed his hands in yours.

"you better make this worth my while, choi seungcheol," god, he hated when anyone called him that, but you were the exception.

"always."

wonwoo -

wonwoo was astonished at himself, for lack of a better word. he had never been more disappointed in himself than in this moment. sure, he didn't take birthdays too seriously, and he knew you didn't either, but you always made him feel so special on his day he had only wanted to do the same. he was a lowkey guy, so his ways of showing love sometimes went unnoticed by most people, except for you. you accepted the subtlety of his love, loving him all the more for it. he felt terrible that today he showed you the exact opposite of what he had planned. he had taken weeks to perfect the dinner he had wanted to make for you, having prepared a romantic night for the two of you. all he wanted was to make you feel loved as he held you through the night, but his plan had stupidly slipped his mind.

what kind of asshole ditches their significant other on their birthday? for a stupid video game out of all things? as soon as wonwoo communicated what you had texted him to mingyu, his roommate couldn't help but scold him, telling him this was very uncharacteristic of him. which it was. everyone knew wonwoo to be a very sensible guy. it was very rare for anyone to have their feelings hurt by wonwoo. the guy was just simply too emotionally intelligent to ever be perceived as a hurtful individual. except now he had shown a careless part of himself that rarely ever faced the surface.

he was unsure of what to do. it was clear by your messages that you did not want to see him. you quite literally had asked him to not come. your texts to him were always filled with love, somehow being able to have your affections to him transcend even through text. but these were cold, and with good reason. still, wonwoo did not want to give up. the only thing that would be worse than ditching you on your birthday would be to stay where he was, knowing you were not only upset but also hurt by his actions. or rather, lack there of.

so, wonwoo was now on his way to you. well, to your apartment. you had mentioned in your messages that you would be out with friends due to his absence. it killed him that you had chosen to be with your friends over him, but he was fully aware that he only had himself to blame for that. he was glad you at least had someone to be with while his forgetfulness kept him away from you.

he had a key to your apartment, often heading over to fall asleep in your arms after a grueling day of being an idol. upon arriving there, he knew you'd be gone, so he allowed himself in, hauling in all the ingredients he had packed with him in order to make you the dinner he had been planning all these weeks. he was unsure of when you'd arrive back home, so he needed to hurry just in case. there was also a chance you'd come back in the early hours of the morning, knowing you would sometimes stay out with your friends til 1 or 2 in the am. having practiced this dinner multiple times, wonwoo was able to have it all done by 10, hoping that you'd arrive soon so the dinner wouldn't go to waste. he took care of the ambience, lighting candles and even moving furniture aside to make space for his set up. all he had to do now was wait for your arrival.

it had taken you around two hours to arrive. wonwoo had simply sat there waiting for you, not wanting to contact you as to not disturb you. okay, maybe he had maniacally texted you back earlier, apologizing for his mistake over and over, but had received no response, so he had decided it'd be best to just wait for you to arrive on your own. and now you were here, crossing the door to your apartment.

you stopped upon spotting him, widening your eyes before taking note of the dinner table behind him, "wonwoo? what are you doing here?"

he smiled sadly at you, slightly unsure of what to say, "i cooked for you," he paused, continuing upon seeing your confusion, "im so sorry. time got the best of me. i cant believe it slipped my mind. i knew it was today, but i got too distracted. i never wanted to make you feel like i didnt care. i do. so much."

you stood there without saying anything, still carrying a slightly shocked expression on your face. so he continued.

"baby ... please, have a meal with me. i prepared all this for you. this is what i had planned for today, if only i hadnt forgotten. let me make it up to you, please. i already called off tomorrow. i had a whole day planned for us, but i'll do whatever you want. if you want me to leave, i will. just, please. i need you to know how much i care. i love you, you're everything."

you continued to stare at him for a bit, a soft smile slowly breaking into your features before responding.

"nonu .. you didn't have to do all this. i'm sorry if i made you worry. this is ... it's such a sweet gesture. of course i want you to stay. all i wanted all day was to be with you," it melted his heart that you had wanted him all day, but were separated by none other than himself.

he pulled you into his arms halfway through your response, humming as he felt you hug him back. nothing felt as nice as your touch against his.

"im so sorry, beautiful. this will never happen again, i promise."

"i love you, wonwoo. thank you."

"happy birthday."

mingyu -

mingyu had never hauled ass quicker than at that moment, not even bothering to say goodbye to his roommate before grabbing a jacket and sprinting out of the door.

he couldn't believe his behavior towards you. you had always been a top priority to him, and to now realize he had forgotten your birthday gutted him tremendously. but what got to him even more was the knowledge that you had probably been waiting all day for him, having agreed beforehand that he would make space for you on your special day even through his packed comeback schedule. the sole thought that you, the bestest person he had ever met, had sat alone waiting for him all day, made him feel like the worst boyfriend. so now he was quite literally running in order to get to you.

the dryness of your voice during that call should've been the first hint that something was wrong, but what really made the alarms go off in his head was your lack of response when he said 'i love you' to you. mingyu knew it was dumb to care so much about it, but he thrived off words of affirmation, so your lack of response made him immediately assume something was wrong. you had never not reciprocated his words of affection, much less hung up on him. the moment he expressed his concerns to wonwoo, he was reminded by his roommate that 'oh wait, isn't it their birthday this week?' suddenly his mind started spiraling, now remembering that he had forgotten his boyfriend duties on the most important day.

it didn't take him too long to get to your apartment. okay, he didn't actually run there, he was just being a tad bit dramatic. but dramatics were necessary in this situation, which is why the moment you begrudgingly opened the door after his incessant knocks, allowing him inside, he immediately dropped to his knees, looking up at you as he rambled apologies at you.

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry. god, i don't know how i forgot. i swear the day just slipped my mind. i had plans ready, i swear! i've just been so busy with the comeback- not that that's an excuse! you have every reason to be mad at me. it won't happen again, i promise, i-" mingyu wasn't sure when exactly he was going to stop listing off constant apologies to you. he wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying at this point, just repeating himself over and over again, letting it slip past him that you were now standing above him, holding in your amusement at the state of the pleading man before you.

"mingyu, please get up."

like an obedient boy, he got up, now towering over you as he usually did. he immediately held onto your hands, bringing them up to his chest as he continued his apologies.

"you have every right to be mad at me. i neglected you and forgot about you when i shouldn't have. i didn't even wanna come home to wonwoo tonight! i wanted to come to you! but we have a schedule early tomorrow morning, so it was just easier. but i'll cancel! i'll stay here with you! i wanna make it up to you-"

"mingyu, shut up!"

that was enough for him to slam his mouth shut immediately, looking at you as he waited for your next command words.

"mingyu, listen. i understand. i was hurt you forgot, but i understand you're really busy right now, okay? i'm not angry at you. you don't have to cancel your schedule either. i don't want to get in the way of-"

"i'll do it! you're my top priority, baby. you know that."

"i still don't want you to cancel, gyu. it's fine. i'm not angry. i appreciate your apology. just wanted to be with you today .. i'm sorry if i made you worry," you looked down, almost as if embarrassed by having felt hurt by his actions. this made mingyu melt with guilt.

"no, baby. fuck. how can i make this up to you? can i stay here tonight? hmm? i'll cook you dinner and wake you up with breakfast. i'll even cut my schedule short for tomorrow so i can be back home with you earlier. how's that sound?"

"sounds perfect mingyu, thank you," he took this as confirmation to finally hold you in his arms, swaying you back and forth as he hummed the birthday song lightly against your ear, causing you to giggle against him.

vernon -

everyone was aware that vernon could sometimes be a little too chill for his own good. he didn't make too big of a deal about most things, simply going with the flow and allowing things to evolve on their own. except that could not be done in this situation. right now, he needed to make a choice. give you your space, or run home to you, tail between his legs as he apologized for ever having forgotten about you. the last thing vernon would ever want was for you to not feel the immense amount of love he's always had for you. he knew he could be bad at showing it sometimes, but you were the absolute love of his life, which made him feel devastated over and over again as he kept rereading your texts.

'maybe you should stay at the dorms tonight. not really in the mood for you to spend the night. im sorry. love you.' that was what you had last sent to him exactly thirty-eight minutes ago. how could he just sit with that for the rest of the night? specially when all he wanted to do was be with you and hold you and kiss you and show you how incredibly obsessed with you he was. he was never good with dates, but he had always gotten any and all dates pertaining to you right thus far. he even had a gift for you he had purchased a few months back, but he had stupidly forgotten the day he had been preparing for was this week. this mistake was an outlier, truly, but it hurt you nonetheless, which was all vernon cared about at the moment. he couldn't believe you'd been having to hint at your birthday while your boyfriend remained clueless. you must've felt so dejected. he winced at the thought.

however, right now was not a time for lamentations. even if you kicked him out and told him to get fucked, vernon had to at least try to come home to you now. he quickly went over the situation with his members, explaining that he had been a total douchebag and neglected you. that earned him scoldings from all members present, calling him all types of names and demanding he head over to your apartment right this instant to beg for forgiveness and hope you wouldn't just send him right back.

so now he was on his way to you, despite you having instructed him to stay away. he wanted to respect your wishes, but he couldn't go to sleep tonight knowing your heart was still hurt because of him. he needed to at least see you and have you know that he was willing to try and mend things. vernon wasn't one for public displays, nor was he one for dramatics, but he was willing to pull all stops for you if it meant you'd forgive him. which was why he was currently running through the hybe hallways as he called up his driver to be ready to take him to your apartment as soon as he reached the parking lot.

he had had time to think over a game plan on the way over, except nothing came to mind. the two of you had never fought before. sure, there had been a few minuscule spats here and there, but he had never seen you angry at him before; he'd never given any reason to be until now. he didn't want to freak out over this, but knew how hurtful it must've been for you to feel so neglected by the person who's supposed to love you most, so he felt a pit in his stomach with the worry that maybe this would be enough for you to finally snap at his forgetful tendencies and end it. he didn't have much time to think about this, however, as he now stood in front of your apartment door, fearful of knocking on it.

the decision to open the door was made for him, as you incidentally opened it yourself, yelping at his apparition on the other side of it.

"vernon? what are you doing here?", you didn't seem angry. you seemed more confused at his presence. that was good.

"i- uh ... i'm sorry."

okay, kind of a bad start.

"vernon. i told you not to come over tonight. i'm sorry, i'm not really in the mood to see you right now," even though you didn't appear angry, your eyes wouldn't meet his, making him deflate a bit.

"are you mad at me? i'm so sorry. i didnt mean to forget, i swear," vernon knew there wasn't much he could say past that, but he wanted you to at least know he regretted his neglect.

"i'm not angry, vernon. i'm just a little ... sad. i tried to be subtle about it. i mean, i dont even care for my birthday that much, but i hoped my boyfriend would at least remember it."

"baby, god. i am so fucking sorry. i never meant to make you feel like i didn't care. it just slipped my mind. i know it's not a valid excuse, but i need you to know that it doesnt mean anything. i'm just a fucking idiot. i'm sorry."

he was rambling now. somehow you being hurt by him trumped the chance of you being mad.

"vernon, it's fine. i dont want you beating yourself up about it. i'll get over it. i just need space tonight. i was about to go meet with a friend before you got here," you seemed like you just wanted to get out of the situation, clearly feeling awkward at even expressing your disappointment at him. it made vernon feel like even more of an asshole.

"no! be mad! you shouldn't get over it. i should be making it up to you. stay. please. i'll do anything you want. i'll take tomorrow off. we can do something together. anything you want. i have a gift for you and everything! i got it while in japan, the date just slipped my mind, i swear. please stay. i don't want to leave you alone if i made you sad. please."

"vernon ..."

"please. i don't want to force you. if you want to leave, i'll accept it, but let me make it up to you. i dont want you to feel like i dont care. i do. i know i dont express it much, that's on me. i'll make it known. i'll show you. i don't want to hurt you again, i-"

he was unable to finish his sentence, now stumbling back due to a sudden weight against him. you, with your arms now wrapped around him as your face nuzzled his neck. he instinctively wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you in as he lowered his head to breathe you in, humming as he felt the relief of having you in his hold.

you pulled away too quickly for his liking, eyes slightly glossy but not enough to consider it worrisome, "i forgive you. i'm sorry, i didn't mean to exaggerate. i did feel neglected, but-"

"but nothing. don't apologize, please. this won't happen again, okay? i love you."

"i love you too," you smiled at him before pausing, "i .. do you wanna come in?", you seemed a bit sheepish, probably feeling awkward at hearing vernon ramble apologies at you for the past five minutes, showing way more emotion than he usually did.

"come in? oh, you're not leaving? wait, don't answer that. yes," he held onto your hand before you could say anything, pulling you in for a quick kiss before leading you into your apartment, all under the promise to make up for his previous carelessness and never make you doubt his affections for you ever again.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #seventeen #svt #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #svt oneshot #seventeen reactions #svt reactions #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #svt angst #svt fluff

2K notes · View notes

wanderingsoul6261 · 18 days

Text

In The End

Credit for gif goes to cinevettel

James Beaufort x Reader

synopsis: Reader loses her virginity to James. She says something unexpected, and he suddenly avoids her. It's not until the Victorian dance that mistakes are realizes and amends are made.

Warning: MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT 18+ theme in the beginning. Sexual content below the cut.

Heavy breathing filled the room along with quiet whimpers and low groans. Y/N hands clenched the bed sheets, her back arching as James made quick work of his tongue. One hand settled upon her stomach while the other thrusted two fingers into her pussy. His lips and tongue were attached to her clit, sucking and flicking, devouring her like he was a man starved. And boy was he starved.

His eyes peered up at Y/N. James listened as she started to breathe heavily, closing his eyes has her hands flew to the back of his head, holding him steady. She was getting close. He could tell.

It didn't take him long to get her to this point. She was weak. Sensitive. It was her first time and he want to take his time going over every little quirk about her. He wanted her to be nothing but putty in his hands by the time that they were done.

"That's it, love. Breathe." He said loud enough for her to hear, before latching his lips back onto her clit. James pulled his face away again, watching as his fingers continued to disappear inside of her. He let out a groan at the sight. "Oh, you are so beautiful." His cock strained painfully against his boxers, and on instinct, he rutted his hips against the bed. He let his head fall, the movement of his hand faltering slightly before he continued, trying to hold back on getting himself off on the bed. He wanted it to happen in her. If she'd allow it.

"James- fuck" Y/N took in a sharp inhale of breath, a whimper escaping her. "I need you-" another gasp. "Please." James pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing it harshly and he continued to thrust his fingers inside. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, leaning forward and pressing his lips to her shoulder. Her arms came up around his shoulders as his lips slowly trailed up along her shoulders and up her neck, to the pulse point right behind her ear. He grinned when he felt her clench around his fingers, not sure how much longer he can wait himself.

"Just give me one, sweetheart. And then I'll give you anything you want." James murmured quietly. He lifted his head to look her in her eyes. "I just ask for one thing." She let out a whimper, as if telling him to say what he wanted to. "Look at me when you cum around my fingers."

If she wasn't already a puddle, she was then. It only took a few more thrusts of his fingers and she was coming. As he had asked, she looked him in his eyes as her body trembled, although her eyes did roll to the back of her head from the pleasure of the orgasm. Pleasure overwhelmed her and James thrusted his fingers inside her through said orgasm, cooing softly at her.

"That's it, love. Such a good girl. You did amazing." He moved down her body, pressing his tongue to her pussy, cleaning up the mess she had made. A quiet groan left his body as he lapped up her juices, before moving back up her body and pressing a kiss to her lips.

Y/N reached her hands down, moving his boxers down his thighs, letting him kick it off the rest of the way. He leaned over to grab a condom from his wallet when she stopped him.

"I'm on birth control." she shrugged. "It's helps with the painful periods." And just like that, James was ten times more aroused. He leaned down and captured her lips into a searing kiss, positioning himself.

Pulling away from the kiss, James looked down at Y/N, waiting for her. When she made eye contact with him and nodded, their following actions were sealed.

----

"I love you, James."

Y/N felt stupid. Why did she say it? Sure, James and she have been seeing each other for a little bit now, and it might have felt right in that moment to say it. However, she wasn't sure anymore.

And why was that?

James has been avoiding her. And what else was she to think? Was it the sex? Was it that bad? Did he not like it? Or her? No, that couldn't have been it. It didn't make sense.

What did make sense, was what she said as the two reached orgasm, one right after the other.

She should have made sure he was ready, so she knew for a fact that this was her fault. But how could she fix it?

She had already tried to talk to him several times the first day back to classes that week. And each time she had been avoided. He brushed past her, avoiding all eye contact. She had even tried grabbing his wrist or bicep to get him to stop. But each time, he pulled away from her grasp, continuing on away from her. Y/N was left alone in the middle of the hallway, watching his back as he disappeared from sight, wondering what she could do this fix this. Her face, crestfallen, as he didn't even send a look back at her over his shoulder. And people were starting to talk. What happened to the most popular couple of Maxton Hall?

And that's how the following weeks went on. All the way to the Victorian dance, she had been ignored, but as being part of the planning committee, there was no way she could get out attending it. And she has tried.

And so here she stood, next to Ruby Bell as a small group of them talked. She swirled the champagne in her glass, looking down at it sullenly, her heart aching. Y/N was hoping that today, her and James could have danced. Oh, how wrong she was.

It was only minutes later when Ruby started to nudge Y/N, motioning down towards the ground floor. And she almost dropped her glass at the sight of him standing down there. James Mortimer Beaufort. Wearing a suit that was not quite Victorian Style, but a suit, nonetheless. And as he stared at her, he looked completely and utterly mesmerized.

She gave her glass to Ruby to pass off to some other person, making her way down to him. Why was she allowing her feet to cover her to him. He had been ignoring and avoiding her as if her life depending on it.

Y/N hesitated for a moment. Why was she giving in so easily to him after what he had done?

Because it was an easy answer. She still loved him. But she was pissed.

Y/N came to stand in front of James, and without a second to waste, she slapped him. The crack resounded through the room, catching many nearby by surprise.

He stood in silence, slowly looking back at her.

"You deserve that." Y/N huffed. He nodded.

"Agreed. I did in fact deserve that." Her resolve softened subtly, seeing the guilt and regret in his eyes.

"Then why?" she asked.

"I was scared." He said simply, as if it was some normal answer to what happened.

"Scared of what, James?" she asked. James was silent for several moments.

"Love. You told me you loved me, and I got scared because I've never heard it truthfully. Not unless it was from my mother, and I panicked because I didn't think you could actually love someone like me. So, I did what I thought was best for myself in that moment and that was to avoid you. Over time though, I realized it wasn't best for either of us, because it didn't address things fully."

"Love someone like you- James. I absolutely adore you. I love you because of who you are. Not the James you pretend to be for everyone else. But the you that you become when it's just us." Y/N explained, her hands coming up to rest on his face. "Do I need to say it again for you to believe it?" she asked, noticing the few tears the slipped down his cheeks and quickly brushing them away. He gave her a tiny nod.

"I love you, James Mortimer Beaufort."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

-------

tag list: @lifeonawhim @honethatty12 @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27

if you want to be added to my tag list, please say so!

#james beaufort x reader #james beaufort #maxton hall

427 notes · View notes

apomaro-mellow · 9 months

Text

Wrong Number 1

Eddie kept up a texting chain with Steve while making himself a breakfast of coffee and cereal. He hadn't felt like this in a long time. Not since, well, when he thought of it when he was a teenager up all night in chat rooms and forums. When you found someone who you just clicked with.

[11:30] Any advice on how to fry an egg with a perfectly runny yolk?

(11:32) You like runny yolks??? 🤢 (11:33) It's scrambled or nothing for me (11:33) Cant help ya even if I wanted to

[11:35] I just want an egg on my avo toast

Normally Robin fried the eggs for breakfast. Her yolks were always perfect. But unlike Steve, she'd actually scored last night and was still with whoever she'd gone home with last night.

Eddie couldn't help but roll his eyes at the cliche. A guy who jogged and then came back home for some avocado toast with an egg on top? He just had to let his stance be known.

(11:35) Next ur gonna tell me bout your acai smoothie bowl rite? (11:36) Avo toast? Really???

Steve realized how he was coming off and had to quickly amend it.

[11:38] It's not what you think! We only got the avocados to make some guac the other day. There was one left and I wanted to use it before it went bad. And I'm all guac'd out. Hence the toast.

(11:39) At least you didn't use the avocado to make like ice cream or some shit

Finished with his own, normal, regular, average citizen breakfast, Eddie cleared his place and started to actually get ready for the day. His shift went from 2 to 10 tonight, so he needed to prepare for the long haul.

While brushing his teeth, getting dressed, and making something for his lunch later, he and Steve kept up the texts. Through their conversation he found out Steve's favorite ice cream (peanut butter), that he could cook eggs just about any way except sunny side up, and that he lived with a roommate named Robin.

Eddie got to his place of work and in a place like that you need to have some semblance of focus and attention, so he told Steve he had to get to work. He realized he was basically saying 'busy now, text you later?' to a stranger he'd only started talking to last night. Steve was completely in his rights to end the conversation there.

He could've ended it at any time really. What obligation did he have to keep on talking to him?

[2:01] Okay. Talk to you later

Steve stared at the message, already in the middle of agonizing over it when Robin finally came through the door of their apartment.

"Good afternoon. I wanna feel offended that I didn't get any texts or calls asking if I'm okay but I'm gonna choose to think it means you trust me and are a great judge of character."

For the first time in a while, Steve checked the time and actually realized how long it had been.

"Shit, Robs, I'm sorry." It had been over 12 hours and he hadn't checked in on her. All because he'd been texting a random number. "So you had a good time?"

Steve had been sitting on the couch and Robin plopped right down, laying her head in his lap.

"It was magical. Like something out of a movie."

"Aren't you glad I made you go and talk to her?", Steve smiled smug.

Robin smushed his face with her hands with a groan. "Don't look at me like that. You were right, okay? Me and her hit it off like, like uh, one of your sports metaphors."

"Robin you were in a soccer league just last year, stop acting like you don't know sports."

"Anyway, something grand must've kept your attention off me. Things go well with that girl you were talking to?"

"Umm, yeah."

Robin sat up, eyes narrowing. "And you came back here with her? Gross! Steve! Did you do it on the couch?!" She shot up immediately.

"I didn't", Steve rolled his eyes.

It was one of their main rules. No sex in the common areas of the apartment. Steve wasn't gonna tell her about the wrong number given to him. And he especially wasn't going to tell her he kept talking to it. The following lecture would have been unbearable.

"She gave me her number and we've just been texting back and forth."

Robin slowly sat back down on the couch. "Just texting? That's all you did?"

"That's all."

"Wow. You usually move faster than that."

"Well, I want something a little more this time. But enough about my snail pace romance. Let's talk about you and that girl, what was her name?"

He and Robin sat a long while, talking about her night, eventually going out for lunch together too. Not-Misty had said they were at work, but Steve couldn't help himself when he saw that Robin had ordered a burger with avocado on it and Steve had gotten a taco salad that came with, you guessed it, avocado.

[3:14] image.jpeg [314] Okay me and Robin might have a problem. But I swear it's not on purpose!

"Did you just send a picture of our lunch to someone?", Robin asked.

"Yeah to uh, to Misty. We were talking about avocados earlier and I figured she'd get a kick out of it."

Robin smiled through her chewing. She teased but she was glad that her friend had made a connection last night.

Meanwhile, Eddie saw the message, but didn't have a chance to reply, even on his lunch break. Through all the texting, he had forgotten to charge his phone, so it was on the plug and he was leaving it alone for now while he talked to his co-worker, Grant. He went through the rest of his shift, thinking about Steve.

What did he look like? How old was he? Where did he live?

He got off and made his way back home, stopping off somewhere to get dinner. It was a sandwich shop and he honestly contemplated getting avocado on his just to see Steve's reaction but he resisted.

'I can't be that down bad that I'm overthinking food now', he thought to himself.

When he got back home, he turned the tv on and took out his phone to reply to Steve right away.

(10:31) Back at home now (10:32) Work was crazy (10:34) And the 1st step to recovery is admitting u have a problem (10:36) But thru hard work we can get you addicted to a sensible veggie (10:37) Like broccoli

He thought since he kept Steve waiting for so long it might take some time for a reply to come, but his phone pinged almost immediately.

[10:39] First of all, avocado is a fruit. Second, I eat plenty of other vegetables. And third, what happened at work?

(10:41) It may be a fruit but I dont want it in my smoothie (10:42) And some guy came in and started throwing axes at the wall

Sunday evenings were usually more relaxed. It was why Eddie typically didn't work Friday or Saturday nights unless he needed some extra cash or they needed someone on deck.

[10:44] Hold the duck up someone was throwing axes!! [10:44] *duck [10:45] *FUCK

Eddie snickered through his eating and had to take a moment to swallow before something came up. He always enjoyed telling people what he did for a living.

(10:46) Cool your jets man (10:47) I work at an axe throwing range (10:48) The problem with this dude was he didn't have an appointment (10:48) Just came in and started throwing an axe at the wall

[10:50] Are you okay? That sounds dangerous

(10:50) My uncle handled it (10:51) Eventually the dude left

[10:52] Oh wow. Well I'm glad you're okay. Axe throwing tho. What an interesting job for someone of your age? 🤷

Steve was lying in bed and he buried his face into his pillow as he sent it with the shrug emoji. It was so transparent, he knew it. But he needed to have a better idea of who he was talking to. That way when Robin did eventually find out, he'd be able to tell her something, anything.

(10:53) Smooth (10:53) I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours

Eddie knew now was the time to be cautious. But he was also curious as to how much Steve would tell him and just what he wanted to know. He wasn't disappointed.

[10:54] Male, 23, 5'11

It was like the bare minimum of information and yet Eddie was already aggressively tamping down any hope that he might have a chance. Without his permission, hope bubbled up anyway

(10:55) Male, 24 going on 25, also 5'11

Steve stared at the text with the mystery person, mystery man's information. It seemed like so little and yet so much. He still hadn't an idea of what he looked like. But now he could at least get a general silhouette.

(10:56) Ur not one of those guys who lies about his height are you?

[10:57] Robin says my hair gives me two inches but she has no idea what she's talking about.

Eddie was thinking about how Steve must wear his hair. It could be in a sizeable pompadour, or maybe a nice afro. Maybe it was in a bun all the time? That was not what he typed out however.

(10:59) You know what they say (10:59) It's not the size but what u do with it

Okay this was it. This was where Steve stopped texting him. You can't just say that to guys you don't know-ping!

Eddie bit his lip and only had one eye open as he looked at Steve reply, preparing for the worst.

[11:01] Oh I know how to use my inches

Eddie dropped his phone onto the table and had to get up and pace, touch his face, his hair, throwing his hands in the air. Was this flirting? This felt like flirting. He wished he knew for sure. Maybe it was the lack of emoji. Had Steve put a winking face, he'd know for certain. Eddie leaned against his fridge, staring at his phone, sitting innocently on the table.

On the other side, Steve was burying his face into his pillow, pretending he didn't just say that. Would it come off as playful? As flirty? As casual? Should he have sent a wink? The seconds ticked and it felt too late. Like coughing after saying something awkward.

God, he was so desperate. Why was he even still texting? He had work in the morning. He should start preparing for bed so he had any hope of getting up on time. Steve pushed off the bed and went to his closet when he heard the notification sound and instantly returned.

(11:05) Let's get out the measuring tape (11:05) image.jpeg

Steve felt his heart skip a beat. The picture attached was of the very top of mystery man's head. He was holding up a lock of long, curly hair into the air. Steve studied the picture like he was getting paid to do it. He couldn't see any lower than the bangs on his forehead but there was still plenty to see.

The rings on his fingers for one, how his curls went this way and that. Steve quickly saved it and then replied with a similar pose, holding some hair by the fingers as far as it would go above his head.

[11:07] image.jpeg [11:08] I think you have me beat

They texted for about an hour more before Steve finally decided to be an adult and put himself to sleep, bidding mystery man good night.

Part 3

Fun fact, years ago I worked at an axe throwing place and yes, what happened to Eddie did in fact happen to me! On like my first week too I think

Tag Team

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @lolawonsstuff @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @420-hun @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #i can honestly say i didn't expect the response to this #u cant predict the stocks! i guess LOL #fun fact this was nearly an abo fic as well #but i decided against it this time around #bc i have other aus that'll probably be abo

2K notes · View notes

earthtooz · 11 months

Text

x : DON'T GO :*+ﾟ

in which: blade has always felt cold, but even more so without you.

warnings: 1.9k words, HURT/COMFORT with a sprinkle of angst, gn!reader who calls blade 'ren' once, mention of blood, ooc!vulnerable!blade, he's like a kicked puppy in this one

a/n: perhaps the most intimate piece i've wrote to date, this is nothing but pure yearning and longing on blade's behalf, and a nice fix-it fic with the most vulnerable i think blade could ever be. enjoy!!

in his new life, blade has always felt cold.

he is not spared from the constant feeling of goosebumps prickling his skin, not even for a second as the cold bites the tip of his fingers and sink their teeth into him to send shivers up his spine. but he has never felt colder than he does right now.

your side of the bed is untouched, perfectly made, and devoid of any indication that you had been there. the blankets and mattress are cool to touch, with hardly any wrinkles in the sheets, and an ache declares itself home in blade’s chest.

the sun spills on his bare skin when he kicks the covers off, illuminating his scar-ridden chest as he gazes around the room, as if waiting for an sign that you were still here, and that he wasn’t too late. however, an immediate soreness tickles his throat that causes him to wince, serving as a reminder of the unpleasant discourse you had last night.

it was hardly over anything of importance, but blade, a man of pride and relentlessness, had refused to back down, and you went to bed angry that night. he did too but woke regretful and cold under the covers, your warmth taken with you.

today was the day you had to leave for a mission, and although he knows you have a strict schedule to follow, he just wonders why you couldn’t have woken him up to say goodbye, especially after everything.

he didn’t even get to say sorry or try to at least make amends. the swordsman only hopes you didn’t leave furious with him, and that you at least had something to eat before leaving.

to distract himself from the heartache, blade forgoes lying around and decides to start his day before the absence you left overwhelms him and the only thing his mind can do is think about you.

not that he’s successful, because despite dedicating a monotonous afternoon of drilling sword techniques, the rampant thoughts about you did not decrease. rather, with each swing and sway of the cracked blade, his mind finds more and more to think about, with you at the epicentre of all of them.

it’s sometime around sunset when blade receives update on your status.

the swordsman is sat on a stone ledge, gold rays from the sun spilling on his skin as he waits for the sweat and fatigue to roll off. blade thinks of how you’d normally be seated nearby, watching him train to supply water and energy bars. although he never used to like the company or the doting, it doesn’t feel the same without you beside him, he misses you and wonders when you’ll return.

“how long have you been here?” a raspy, female voice asks, breaking blade’s train of thoughts.

“since noon,” he responds merely. he doesn’t need to look up to see that it’s kafka talking to him.

“right. makes sense. i thought you’d be lonely since y/n’s gone.”

“need you remind me?” he huffs, voice teetering a threatening gruffness that would make ordinary people shudder, but does nothing to kafka.

“oh, spicy today, aren’t we?” she coos, ignoring the immense pressure radiating off blade effortlessly before taking a seat beside him. “what’s up? is there trouble in paradise?” a scoff comes from the swordsman. “i was only joking, did something really happen between you two?”

“none of your business.”

kafka shrugs before her phone begins vibrating violently. when she reads the notifications, her face pulls the closest expression to concern that blade has ever seen her wear.

“y/n got ambushed.”

his world freezes over.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

the sunlight is gentle in blade’s eyes when he wakes up.

clothes are strewn on the floor, bedsheets are half off the bed, ceramics lie in pieces along the cracks of the planks, and despite the mess blade has made of your shared space, he is the most crumpled of them all. a kaleidoscope of volcanic anger, tsunamic worry, and mountainous yearning, the only place that has remained untouched by blade’s destructive touch is your side of the bed, lest your scent disappears.

it’s been five days since anyone has received a live update from you, only hanging on to tracking notifications of your spaceship as any indication that you were fine. for the duration of it, nothing has been able to calm him, with kafka and silver wolf needing to stun him before he could do anything brash, like running off into the infinite cosmos to find you.

elio’s promises had never felt emptier, his constant claims of how you’d return very soon turning into dust in blade’s ears because how could he hold on to hope when you are alone amongst the stars?

his texts are left delivered, but never read. in fact, it has been five days since your contact displayed to be online, and he finds himself staring at it in case that the circle will illuminate green, that you’ll give him some sort of update on your liveliness.

so that you’ll see how sorry he is and all he wants for you is to return home.

he doesn’t remember when he became so dependent, but perhaps this is another cruel punishment from fate with another inconceivable price of repentance.

for someone as unforgivable and despicable as blade to love means to mutilate the universe with aftershocks that tear through boundaries of what’s possible. for a man like blade to rebel, it means that the consequences will return tenfold.

and there is no crueller damnation than tearing you away from him.

he turns on his side, arms reaching over to where you would normally lie, and dozes off again, feeling colder than ever.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

blade wakes up a second time. the sun is no longer the thing that awakens him, but rather, the sound of footsteps that echo outside the bedroom. disgruntled and still trying to gather his bearings, he shoots awake at the sound of your door opening.

you stand on the other side.

is this a dream?

“oh,” you breathe. you sound winded, caught off guard by the sight of your lover who stares at you like a bewildered deer. “i’m sorry, i didn’t think you would be here.”

he doesn’t say anything, just merely looks at you, unnervingly unresponsive.

you look miserable. fatigue clings to your skin like a second skin, your eyes lack the brightness they usually have, and you are, evidently, very battered and bruised, blood staining your ruined clothes.

but you are like sunlight, and blade thinks he can breathe again.

“i guess i’ll leave,” you murmur, interrupting blade’s momentary assessment.

“don’t.”

turning back around, the swordsman is now slowly stalking towards you, seemingly teleported from the bed to halfway across the room in the blink of an eye.

“is something wrong?” you ask and he holds back a scoff from the irony of your question. he’s the one that should be asking that, not you.

but yes, there is something wrong; you left him alone. you went somewhere he couldn’t and then made him feel helpless because he didn’t know whether or not you were going to come back, stranded in the cosmos forever.

stopping before you, his hands gravitate upwards with the magnetic need to touch you, to ensure that you were real and not some figment of his hazy imagination. blade raises a hesitant hand to sit on the back of your neck and the frostiness of his fingertips causes a shiver to run up your spine. gently, he presses you for a pulse and visibly gulps when he finds it, suffocating you in the tense silence that has occupied the air (you’re real, and you’re okay, delivered back to him in one piece).

then, he looks at you with the saddest expression you have ever seen him wear before engulfing you in his embrace. the stellaron hunter is hesitant with his touch, hovering around you in fear of overstepping, for blade would never forgive himself if he were to scare you off again.

because you’re finally back where he can reach, and he never wants you to leave.

“ren?” you pause, gently wrapping your arms around his waist and closing the gap he left, meeting him halfway. the little action floods him with endless relief. “what’s the matter?”

he shakes his head against you and his hold tightens mercilessly, squeezing all air out of your lungs.

“you had me worried,” he confesses, no louder than a whisper because otherwise he would crack under the weight of his own words. the constant fear that has plagued him for the last few days would finally break him and he’d be in shambles in your arms, making a mess of something gorgeous with something hideous.

so instead, he will continue simply holding onto you where you are safe. in his arms, you cannot leave, you cannot go places that danger you, and you cannot break his heart and choke him with the emptiness of your presence.

“i’m sorry,” you say, rubbing his back and he tugs you closer. “i didn’t mean to worry you, everything jus-”

“-you left without saying goodbye.”

you’re silent and guilty, but so beautiful. “i thought you didn’t want to see me. we were pretty mean to each other before i left,” you say after a second of contemplation. “i didn’t know where we stood, i wasn’t sure if you still wanted me.”

whatever is left of his heart breaks, crumbling into shambles that ring at your feet. there are a multitude of things that blade wants to say, yet no words come to fruition, to his dismay. he wants to offer you the comfort and promises you want to hear, and he wants to express the overwhelming relief he feels, but he can’t, and he curses his own inability to be heartfelt.

instead, his grip around you tightens, like you’ll slip away otherwise and have him search for you throughout the cosmos.

“don’t do any of that again,” he pleads instead, hoping that you’ll understand. “i beg of you.”

“okay,” you breathe. “i won’t.”

“don’t leave like that,” he tugs at your ruined shirt, grasp gentle and careful in fear of scaring you away with the intensity of his emotions that are hanging on by a thread

“i wont.”

“please don’t go.”

“i’m here, aren’t i?”

blade sighs, nodding. you smile at him and it feels like a warmth powerful enough to drive the cold away.

“but first, i need a bath,” you murmur, placing your hands on his chest to push him away. “please, keep your distance, i’m pretty sure i reek.”

he doesn’t say anything and clearly doesn’t listen, because instead of letting go, he simply leads you to the bathroom without ever unwrapping his arms. soon, the bath begins to run, and the sound of water streaming down ceramic echoes off the tiles, but the warmth of your laughter and tired words overpower it. blade sits at the edge, nothing but an oversized shadow that watches as you relax in the water, frowning when he catches the frequent bruise or fresh scar.

afterwards, you both stumble onto the bed (careful to avoid the mess that blade as made, which you scolded him for, and he listened dejectedly before promising to clean it all up), and blade reaches over to your side, chest warming when he finds your figure to tug close.

you fall asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. your lover, on the other hand, stays awake for a few moments longer, simply trying to commit you to memory.

“don’t go,” he repeats, tugging at your shirt as the evenness of your heartbeat lulls him to sleep.

he doesn’t feel cold anymore.

#blade x reader #blade hsr x reader #ren x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x gn!reader #blade x gn!reader #blade fluff #blade x reader fluff #earthtooz: HSR

2K notes · View notes

oveliagirlhaditright · 2 years

Text

I'm getting tired of how pro-S*puffy the Boom comics are, and how I feel like they keep trying to turn S*pike into A*ngel.

#like that's one of the reasons i hate s*puffy now. because more and more i feel like the ship became b*angel 2.0 #especially if you get into the comics #and then boom just seemed to look at that and went 'so what if we took that to eleven?'#*'took that up to eleven?'#like i'm probably going to get killed for this... but i was thinking about b*uffy the last vampire slayer #and i honestly think that that story would have made more sense if you switched a*ngel and s*pike's roles in it #like in a perfect world i wouldn't want to throw either of them under the bus #but s*pike is the one who called himself 'love's bitch' and a*ngel was the one we always saw as more heroic #so it makes more sense that b*uffy and s*pike would have gotten married or something but then it didn't work out and he left #and we don't see him again #and then a*ngel shows up after having left b*uffy for ages. to her happiness or whatever. to try and help her save the world #and then and only then they rekindle something #and then the anniversary comic having a psychic telling s*pike that he's going to fall in love with b*uffy and he needs to be ready for her #like the whole whistler thing or something #and i thought most s*puffies like the ship because they weren't all prophesized or whatever and just against all odds happened upon each #other and then ended up being good for each other. so why are we trying to make them b*angel?#and then in the '97 comic s*pike is helping g*iles b*uffy w*illow and x*ander instead of a*ngel like he's supposed to be because of course #he is #and says he he used to be evil but now is trying to make amends (which is supposed to be a*ngel's whole thing! and s*pike. even souled #s*pike. never cared that much) and that b*uffy and w*illow ought to try it some time. like he's better than them or something. and i CANNOT

7 notes · View notes

sinkovia · 3 months

Text

Consequences: Alternative Ending

-Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Mention of blood.

Consequences

As Simon drove to the bar, guilt weighed heavily on him, pressing down on his chest like a leaden weight. What was he doing? Not only had he put his hands on you, but he had also broken the promise you both made to each other.

What was he thinking, treating you like that? Speaking to you in such a hurtful manner when everything had been entirely his fault?

With each passing moment, the gravity of his actions sank deeper into his conscience, gnawing at him with relentless intensity. He couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of remorse and self-loathing that consumed him.

As he drove, his mind raced with thoughts of you, the pain he had caused, and the irreparable damage he had wrought upon your relationship. The realization of his own behavior filled him with a profound sense of shame and regret.

Unable to bear the weight of his guilt any longer, Simon made a U-turn, the screech of tires against asphalt echoing in the quiet night, and began driving back to the house.

Every mile brought him closer to you, to the chance of making things right, of seeking forgiveness for his unforgivable actions. He couldn't believe what had gotten into him, how he could have hurt the one person he loved and cared about most in his life.

He would make amends, he would get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, and he would do whatever it took to repair the damage he had caused.

Just as he began retracing his steps back home, his phone began to ring, and he saw your caller ID flashing on the screen. He answered, putting you on speaker as he focused on the road ahead.

"Sweetheart, I'm so-" His words faltered as he heard your cry of pain echoing through the phone. His heart seized in his chest as he listened to your strained voice.

"Simon, something's wrong with the baby, it hurts, it hurts so much, I don't know what to do." Every word pierced through him like a dagger.

His heart plummeted as he listened to your cries, his foot pressing harder on the gas pedal. “I’m coming, sweetheart. Just hold on. I’m two minutes away, baby.” Simon reassured you, his voice laced with urgency and fear.

Your cries of pain tore at his soul, and tears blurred his vision as he raced home.

Simon wasn’t a religious man, but in that moment, he found himself praying fervently to any higher power that would listen. He prayed for your safety, for the well-being of your unborn child. He knew that this was his punishment, his reckoning for the harm he had caused.

"Simon I cant-"

A sudden thud on the other end of the phone made his stomach plummet. His heart pounded against his chest as panic seized him, his hands trembling and slick with sweat.

"Y/n, baby, what was that? Are you okay?" Simon's voice cracked with worry, but he was met only with silence. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, he sprinted to the front door as soon as he pulled into the driveway.

With a forceful push, he burst through the door, his eyes scanning the rooms in a desperate search for you. "Y/n, where are you?" he called out frantically, his heart hammering in his chest.

Racing to the bathroom, his worst fears were confirmed as he found you unconscious on the floor, blood pooling beneath you. "Fuck, no, no, no," he muttered under his breath, his hands shaking as he scooped you up into his arms.

"Y/n, baby, I need you to open your eyes for me," he pleaded as he carried you to the car, buckling you into the passenger seat. With one hand on the steering wheel and the other periodically checking your pulse, Simon sped towards the hospital with a single-minded determination.

Simon burst into the ER with you cradled in his arms. The nurses sprang into action, swiftly transferring you onto a stretcher and wheeling you away to the surgery room.

The sight of you, unconscious sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He paced the waiting room, unable to sit still as his hands shook with fear and anxiety.

Sinking into a chair, Simon buried his face in his hands, consumed by guilt. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had caused your suffering, that his actions caused you stress and had put you and the baby in danger.

With each passing second, Simon's mind raced with a litany of regrets and what-ifs. If you didn't make it through this, he knew he would never forgive himself. The thought of losing you, the love of his life, because of his own actions was unbearable. All he could do now was wait, gripped by the crushing weight of uncertainty.

When the nurse finally called his name, Simon practically bolted from his seat, his heart pounding in his ears.

“Is she okay? Is the baby okay?” Simon's voice was filled with anxiety as he pleaded for reassurance.

The nurse motioned for him to follow her, and Simon eagerly complied, his heart pounding in his ears.

“Your wife and baby are okay, but there are some complications with the pregnancy,” she began, her tone grave. Simon's breath caught in his throat, fear gripping him like a vise. He willed the nurse to walk faster, desperate for answers.

“The placenta began to detach from the uterine wall, pressing against the cervix, resulting in bleeding. While the placenta has stabilized for now, if it continues to dislodge, there's a risk of miscarriage. However, if she reaches the thirty-two-week mark, premature delivery is an option, with the hope that the baby can complete development in the NICU.”

Simon listened intently, absorbing every word with a sinking feeling in his chest. “Is there anything we can do to prevent her placenta from pushing further down?” his voice laced with desperation.

The nurse shook her head sadly. “Unfortunately not. What will help is bed rest—no walking or any physical movement that would cause her uterus to push the placenta further down.”

“So she’ll stay here until the baby is delivered?”

“Yes,” the nurse confirmed as she opened the door to your room. As Simon rushed to your side, his eyes filled with tears, you turned your head to meet his gaze. With a weak smile, you reached out to touch his cheek as he gently cupped your face.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart, I’m so so sorry, this is all my fault,” Simon whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

You shook your head gently, “It’s okay, what matters is that you answered. I don’t know what would have happened if you didn’t.”

Simon's head dropped against your hand, “I should have never said those things to you, I should have never put my hands on you like that, I should have never broken our promise. I don’t know what I was thinking love, I'm so sorry.”

You gazed into his eyes, seeing the remorse and regret etched in his expression. Despite the pain and uncertainty swirling around you, you found it in your heart to forgive him.

“I forgive you, Simon. We'll get through this together, okay?”

He nodded, his grip tightening on your hand as he leaned in to kiss you gently on the forehead. "I love you so much,"

Simon's hand gently cupped your cheek again, his thumb moving back and forth. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he murmured, his gaze shifting to your stomach. “How do you feel?”

“I feel a bit uncomfortable, but I'm okay,” you replied, gently moving your hand over his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Simon exhaled deeply, nodding in relief. “I'm glad.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and both of you turned your attention to the doctor walking in, followed by a nurse wheeling in a machine.

“I was told you didn't know the gender of your baby,” You nodded in confirmation, exchanging a glance with Simon as your anticipation grew.

“This here is an ultrasound machine. You both can listen to your baby’s heartbeat, and we can find out if it’s a boy or girl,” the doctor explained. Simon's grip on your hand tightened, and you offered him a reassuring smile, though your thoughts lingered on the safety of your baby.

“This won’t hurt them or make the placenta move?” you asked with concern. The doctor shook her head. “No, everything is safe for you and the baby,” she reassured.

Simon leaned closer to you, anticipation and nerves intertwining as the doctor prepared the ultrasound machine. The room seemed to hold its breath as the gel was applied to your bump, and the doctor began to maneuver the wand.

Then, there it was—a steady, rhythmic thumping sound filling the room. Your baby's heartbeat, strong and clear, echoed through the space. Tears started spilling from your eyes, and Simon let out a choked sob as your grip on each other's hand tightened, your eyes still glued to the screen.

Simon's voice caught in his throat as he struggled to contain his emotions, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. In that moment, as you listened to the steady beat of your baby's heart, you felt an unbreakable bond between the three of you, a love so deep and pure that it brought tears of joy to your eyes.

The doctor continued to shift the camera around until she got a better angle and took a few pictures. She gasped and smiled, “Are you ready?” You quickly nodded your head, gripping onto Simon's hand harder.

“You guys are having a baby girl!” the doctor announced. You sobbed out and smiled, turning to Simon, whose tears prickled off his eyelashes, the joy in his heart insurmountable. He cupped your face and kissed you.

“Congratulations! I’ll give you both some time to yourselves,” the doctor said before leaving the room.

"We're having a little girl, sweetheart," Simon couldn't contain his excitement, his smile stretching from ear to ear as he showered you with kisses.

"We can finally pick a name!" Your eyes sparkled with joy as you looked up at him. He gently took your hand and planted soft kisses on your knuckles, each one filled with love.

"Did you have any names in mind, love?" Simon asked, his eyes filled with anticipation as he awaited your response. Your smile softened as you gazed up at him, a glint of excitement in your eyes.

"Yeah, I was thinking about Marie…" you began, the name of Simon's late mother rolling off your tongue with a sense of reverence and love.

Simon's smile widened, his eyes glistening. "Marie Riley, that's a beautiful name, love," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness.

You smiled back at him, your heart swelling with affection. "I know," you replied, gently cupping his cheek, feeling a sense of warmth and connection in choosing a name that honored his family.

The next two and a half months passed by in a blur, the days blending into one another as you remained confined to the hospital bed. Simon never left your side, his presence a constant source of comfort and support.

Every morning, he would slip out to your favorite breakfast place, returning with a tray of steaming hot food just in time for your waking moment. His care and attention were evident in every detail, from the way he fluffed your pillows to the gentle way he brushed your hair away from your face.

During lunchtime, he would disappear briefly, only to return with a homemade meal that he had lovingly prepared himself. The aroma of his cooking would fill the room, warming your heart as much as your stomach.

In the evenings, he would set up your new laptop, eager to continue your tradition of watching your favorite show together. He would sit beside you, holding your hand as you laughed.

And every week, like clockwork, he would arrive with a fresh bouquet of flowers, the vibrant colors brightening up the sterile hospital room. His apologies were a constant refrain, a reminder of the regret he felt for his actions on that fateful day.

Despite the passage of time, his remorse never wavered, his determination to make things right driving him to do everything in his power to ensure your comfort and happiness. Each day was a testament to his love for you, a promise to never let you down again.

“I’m so sorry, love,” Simon whispered, his voice thick with emotion. You reached up and cupped his cheek, offering him a reassuring smile. “Simon, it's okay, really it is. We’re okay, I’m safe, Marie is safe, you’re safe. That’s all that matters now.” Leaning in, you pressed your lips against his softly.

“I love you, Simon, always,” you murmured as you pulled away, looking up at him with affection. Simon's gaze softened, filled with so much love it made your heart swell. “I love you more, Y/n,” he replied tenderly.

You shook your head teasingly. “Impossible, there's no way—”

But your words were cut short as a sharp, searing pain tore through you. You screamed out in sheer agony, gripping Simon's arm tightly. “I think the baby is coming,” you managed to gasp between breaths, the pain radiating through your entire body.

Simon's eyes widened in alarm, and he immediately called for a nurse. A group of them rushed in, swiftly wheeling your bed to the delivery room. Simon stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand firmly as you braved through the intense waves of pain.

“I can't… it hurts, it hurts so much,” you cried out, your voice trembling with agony. Simon grabbed a small rag, wiping the sweat from your forehead, his eyes filled with worry.

“They're going to give you a shot for the pain right now, sweetheart. You need to try and sit still, can you do that for me, baby?” Simon's voice was gentle yet urgent as tears began to gloss your eyes. Despite the agony, you nodded, bracing yourself for the needle.

The momentary distraction of the shot didn't alleviate the excruciating pain coursing through your body. After a few minutes, you were still in agony, the intensity no less than before.

“It hurts, it hurts so much, I can't take it, I feel like I'm being torn apart,” you sobbed, your voice filled with anguish. Simon cursed under his breath, frustration evident on his face. The epidural had failed, leaving you to endure the pain without relief.

The nurses worked tirelessly to make you as comfortable as possible, while the doctor instructed you to begin pushing. Each push felt like an insurmountable feat as you cried out, clawing into Simon's arm for support.

“You can do this, sweetheart. Just one big push, I know you can do it, love,” Simon encouraged, his voice unwavering despite the tears in his eyes. He gently wiped the sweat from your forehead as you struggled through the pain.

With each push, you felt as though you were reaching your breaking point. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Simon felt utterly helpless, knowing there was nothing he could do to ease your suffering.

“Just a few more pushes, the baby is almost out,” the doctor reassured, urging you to keep going.

Simon squeezed your hand tighter, his voice trembling with emotion. “Just a few more pushes, love. You’re almost there, sweetheart,” he encouraged, his heart breaking with each scream of pain that echoed through the room.

The baby finally emerged, and the doctor immediately began stimulating her chest. “Why isn't she crying? Is she okay? Is my baby okay?” You sobbed, your heart pounding with fear. Simon's eyes were wide with worry as he watched the doctor work, his hand gripping yours tightly.

Then, Marie’s cry pierced the air, filling the room with relief as both you and Simon let out a sigh of relief. Tears streamed down your cheeks as they gently placed Marie on your chest, her tiny body nestled against yours.

You kissed the top of your daughter's forehead, your breaths becoming increasingly labored. “Are you okay, love?” Simon's voice was filled with concern as he glanced at the doctor and then to your heart monitor, which showed your heart rate declining.

“What’s happening? Why is her heart rate dropping so quickly?” Simon was panicking as he looked from the doctor to you. Your head was tilted back against the pillow, your eyes half-lidded as you gazed at Marie.

“She’s losing too much blood,” the doctor explained gravely.

Simon's heart sank as he watched your eyes flutter closed, the heart monitor reading a flatline, the sound echoing in his ears.

“No, no, no, no,” he muttered frantically, his hands shaking as the nurses handed him Marie. The sound of Marie crying seemed distant as he focused solely on the constant, agonizing sound of your flatline.

The nurse grabbed the defibrillator and yelled "clear" before administering a shock to your chest. Simon's gaze never left your face, his tears falling freely as he gently held his daughter, the weight of fear heavy in his heart.

“Clear!” Each shock caused your chest to lift up, but still, the ringing of the flatline on the heart monitor remained unchanged.

Simon's world shattered as he watched the nurses desperately trying to save you. He begged and pleaded with them, his voice choked with fear and desperation, as they worked frantically to revive you.

Despite their efforts, the defibrillator failed to bring you back. Your body unable to withstand the trauma of childbirth.

Simon watched helplessly as the nurse put the pads down and the room fell silent, the only sound being the relentless sound of the flatline, a cruel reminder of the fragile line between life and death.

"What are you doing? Do it again!" Simon's voice reverberated through the room, filled with desperation and anguish.

The nurses and doctor exchanged somber glances, their silence speaking volumes. "I’m sorry-" the doctor began, but Simon cut her off with a choked voice, his emotions raw and unfiltered.

"No, don't fucking apologize. Don't you dare fucking apologize. You bring her back, goddamn it!"

Simon’s breathing was labored, his chest heaving with every sob. Tears streamed down his face, his voice trembling with emotion. "You have to bring her back, please. I'm begging you, please just try again."

Simon was consumed by a profound sense of loss and emptiness. The love of his life, the mother of his child, was gone, leaving behind a void. It was as if a part of him had been torn away, leaving him adrift in a sea of grief with no hope of salvation.

As the reality of your death settled over him like a suffocating blanket, Simon felt as though his own heart had stopped beating. The world around him seemed to fade into a blur of pain and sorrow, each breath a struggle against the weight of his grief.

But amidst the darkness, a small glimmer of light emerged. Marie's cries ceased, and Simon's gaze fell upon her tiny face. Her eyes, wide and curious, mirrored yours in a hauntingly familiar way. It was as if you were looking back at him through her innocent gaze.

Sinking into the nearest chair, Simon cradled Marie close to his chest, his tears mingling with hers as he mourned your loss. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, the words a futile attempt to convey the depth of his remorse.

An apology meant for you, for all the things left unsaid and undone, for the pain he had caused, for everything he had done wrong, a lament for the loss of both you and the life you had dreamed of together.

As he held Marie in his arms, Simon couldn't shake the guilt that gnawed at him from the inside.

This was the consequence for his actions.

If only he hadn't acted the way he did towards you, if only he had been more understanding and supportive, maybe you wouldn't have faced such complications in your pregnancy. Maybe, just maybe, you would still be alive, smiling beside him as you marveled at your daughter together.

But now, as he cradled your daughter next to your lifeless body, Simon realized the cruel irony of life's give and take. Marie would forever be a bittersweet reminder of the love you had shared, a beacon of hope in the darkness of his grief.

Every time he looked at her, he would see traces of you in her eyes, hear echoes of your laughter in hers. And though the pain of your absence would never truly fade, Simon knew that he would do everything in his power to honor your memory and protect the precious gift you had left behind.

Tag list: @shinchanboi

673 notes · View notes

lxkeee · 4 months

Text

⋆.˚ . FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚.

-PART FIVE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Archangel Raphael! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Notes: two angels awkwardly trying to make amends.

PART ONE | PART FOUR | PART SIX | MISC.

[y/n] continues to visit a few days later to watch over the hotel and keep track of the progress and anyone can tell that Lucifer and the said angel are trying to discreetly hide the fact they are trying to avoid each other.

Which is increasingly hard to do so for the king of hell, the man can clearly tell that the woman is clearly overworked based on the eye bags underneath her eyes, the dark circles around her eyes, and how she often spaces out.

Lucifer knows how much responsibility the virtues carry, he was one after all but it wasn't as bad before as... Evil didn't exist but because of his actions, it gave the virtues more work and it made work more dangerous as they tried to control the evil that's constantly growing on earth.

Lucifer watches [y/n] as she worked,they are currently at the second floor balcony, sitting by the railings as they looked at the people at the lobby, currently in her disguise—when we say disguise, her wings and halo are hidden away from prying eyes, of course she wears darker clothes to not stand out. Lucifer watches the woman write something on her notepad as she watches over how the new guests acted but Lucifer can see how her head lowers ever so often as she accidentally falls asleep for a few seconds before flinching back up as she wakes up.

His eyes softened, his hand instinctively trying to reach out to her but slowly retracting it back, unsure if he's allowed to physically touch her.

A lightbulb lights up in his mind, remembering the trick he used to do to her to get her to sleep back when they were still in heaven together.

Lucifer discreetly summons a fluffy white pillow, once he notices [y/n] slowly losing consciousness, he gently holds the pillow at the side of her face, discreetly allowing her head to rest on the soft pillow. Slowly bringing his hand down, bringing the pillow along with [y/n]'s sleeping form down. Now the pillow is on his lap with [y/n] sleeping on it. Passed out and deep asleep. Lucifer smiles softly as he looks at her sleeping face.

Lucifer gently removed the clipboard with her notes and the pen from her hands, snapping his fingers to teleport it to [y/n]'s room.

Now on to the next problem, [y/n]'s sleeping form.

“I can't let anyone see us like this.” Lucifer whispers to himself, even though [y/n] is taller than him, he can effortlessly carry her.

The pillow falls into the ground as he princess carried her, thankfully her room isn't too far, just a few doors down the second floor hallway.

[Y/n] snuggles against his chest as he carries her, warmth crawls up to Lucifer's cheeks, his eyes softening in adoration. He misses this. He missed having her in his arms. He misses her in general.

With a sigh, he resumes back to walking. Finally arriving at [y/n]'s room, using his powers [keekee] to unlock the room, [y/n]'s room is neat and tidy, minimalist even, which is understandable since she's only temporarily staying here.

Lucifer carries her to her bed, tucking her gently and making sure she's comfortable. He made sure to remove some of her hair accessories because he knows she'll feel uncomfortable if she accidentally lies on it.

Lucifer places the hair accessories on the bedside table, proud of his work. He looks at the sleeping angel, a small smile on his face as he finally sees her taking a break. Squeezing her hand comfortingly. Despite their current differences, Lucifer doesn't like seeing her like this—overworked, and mentally and physically not okay in general.

“Rest up, [y/n]... You've been working too hard.” He says softly, he was about to leave and finally let go of her hand when she held onto him, holding his hand.

“Don't leave me again, please..?” she begged softly, half-asleep. Her hands squeezed his hand as if she's afraid he'll slip out of her grasp once more and leave her again.

Lucifer's breath hitched, a tear streaming down his beautiful pale and reddish cheek.

“I won't, I promise I won't leave you again. I'll make sure of it.” He whispers softly, his other hand caressing away the strands of her hair that was falling onto her face.

“I'll be here, just an arms reach. But I really need to go and help my daughter... So, I'll give you this...” he says gently, conjuring up a tiny duck plushie with a large white hat that has an apple and a snake in thin air and placing it carefully underneath her arms.

“This will have to do for now but I hope one day, you'll allow me to be fully back into your life and I'll wait for that moment to happen, even if it lasts for eternity.” he says, eye's half-lidded and soft as he spoke. Finally freeing his hand, he began to turn away from her.

“Rest up, Mon ange. Call out my name if you need me... Just like you used to, I'll be here when you call and I promise that, a promise that I'll make sure to keep.” Lucifer whispers with a small smile before finally leaving her side and leaving her room, making sure to lock it from the inside.

[Y/n] was able to sleep properly after so many eons of sleepless nights, cuddling tightly against her new plushie.

As Lucifer got out of [y/n]'s room, Angel Dust so happens to get out of his own room and the arachnid sees the king of hell leaving a certain archangel's room. The arachnid gave Lucifer wiggling eyebrows and a smirk and Lucifer blushes, “It's not what it looks like!” Lucifer defends himself and Angel just gives him a raised eyebrow, “Whaat...? I haven't even said anything yet~” he says and Lucifer just blushed in embarrassment as he quickly teleports away from the arachnid and back to his own room.

Plopping onto his bed and getting underneath the covers, pressing a pillow against his face and just sighs in embarrassment.

Lucifer was beginning to wonder if his actions were too straightforward, was it too much? Will [y/n] hate him even more?

Decisions, decisions, all of them wrong. He says to himself as he groans.

Hopefully this won't deepen the gap between.

But one thing Lucifer is certain is that everything he has said to [y/n] as she slept was all true. All of those words came deep within from inside his heart.

Snuggling into his blanket, Lucifer yawns. He's too emotionally tired to deal with all of this so he'll be running away from his problems by sleeping. Getting comfortably underneath the blanket, the king of hell fell asleep.

With a tired groan, [y/n] slowly stretched her body as she slowly woke up. Yawning as she did so.

“That was one of the best sleep I've had in a while.” she thought before her eyes finally snapped open at the realization, sleep? Weren't she just taking notes of the sinner's progress?!

She sat up, her head darting left and right and seeing that she was back inside her hotel room.

“How did I get here...?” she thought and her eyes landed on the duck plushie that was on beside her, a plushie that is certainly new and not she owned. Her eyes softened, gently grabbing the stuffed animal and examining its features—the most prominent being the big white hat with the snake and apple.

“Oh... Lucifer...” [y/n] mutters as she finally brought the plushie to her arms and hugged it. “He must've carried me back here.” she thought with a small smile and sighs softly.

“I really hope that everything will return to how it used to be.... Just like we used to, I missed you...” she whispers, talking to the plushie as if it could hear her. Chuckling to herself, she places back down the plushie to the empty spot of her bed.

Finally getting out of bed, she made sure she was presentable as she brushed her hair and patted away the creases of her clothes.

Grabbing the clipboard and pen that was on the bedside table, she assumed it was Lucifer who placed it there.

“Time to resume work.” she muttered and quickly left her room, making sure it's locked.

After that, the two slowly and surely got less awkward around each, still awkward but now they know the other doesn't hate them.

[Y/n] watches as Charlie places four apple pies on the table, the sweets are something they [Charlie and Vaggie] got in the way while they were out in the pride city, [y/n] watching the hotel folks begin to take a slice of their own. I remember Lucifer's favorite sweet is apple pie, I wonder why he's not down here? She thought to herself, remembering the times the two used to bake sweets together in heaven and the man always requesting apple pie whenever he visits her.

[Y/n] flinches slightly when she feels that someone tapped her shoulder, turning around and looking down to see Charlie standing there with a smile on her face, “[y/n], feel free to take a slice for yourself. You're part of the team now.” Charlie says with a grin and [y/n] eyes widened in surprise. I'm part of the team...? She thought to herself.

[Y/n] just chuckled and nodded, ruffling the smaller girl's hair, “I am good, but thank you though.” [y/n] says with a smile, she really wants a slice but she doesn't feel comfortable eating with the others yet.

Charlie noticed that the older woman has a nervous look in her eyes as she watched the others converse with each other. During [y/n]'s time here, Charlie notices that the older woman barely interacted with anyone and preferred to hide away from people.

A mischievous idea flashed into Charlie's mind, a subtle grin on her face before it returned to her usual gentle smile.

“I am sure that you're not used to eating with others so I thought that—,” Charlie pauses as she grabs two plates with one slice of apple pie each and hands them to the older woman, “You go and bring this plate of apple pie to my dad and spend time with him?” she suggested and [y/n] chokes on the water she was drinking.

“Huh?!” [y/n] says, a little embarrassed at the idea and Charlie giggles.

“Come on~! This is a perfect opportunity for you two to... I don't know...? Talk?” Charlie says awkwardly and [y/n] sighs softly, “I don't know Charlie... It feels weird.” she muttered and the smaller girl sighs.

These two are hopeless. Charlie thought to herself.

“Just deliver it. Please?” Charlie pleaded with big rounded eyes that the older woman cannot refuse. With a sigh of acceptance she just nodded, “Alright fine, but I'll be leaving immediately after giving it to him.” she says and left, holding two plates of apple slices in her hands.

Charlie pumps her hand in accomplishment. Playing cupid is fun.

Lucifer was inside his room doing paperwork when three distinct knocks were heard against the wooden door to his room. He looked up from the paper, the hand that was holding his pen stopping halfway through when he was signing his signature.

“Who is it?” Lucifer calls out, returning to work.

“It's me, [y/n]. I brought you something...” [y/n]'s voice can be heard behind the door, muffled but Lucifer can tell the slight nervousness of her voice. Lucifer was surprised to hear that she came to visit him. Flustered, he got up from his seat and made himself presentable. Calming his fast beating heart, he walked towards his door and opened it.

Only for something to be shoved into his hand, a plate of apple pie and a golden fork.

“Charlie asked me to give you this, so here you go and have a nice day.” [y/n] says, a little too fast that Lucifer was barely processing the words, “Okay, byee.” [y/n] says and began speed walking away from his room, turning around the corner and disappear.

“[y/n] wait...!” He calls out, hand extended as if trying to reach out to her but the woman had already left. He hesitantly lowered his hand sadly.

Lucifer blinks, the iconic frog blink. Looking down at the neatly cut apple pie served on a plate and a golden fork with it.

With a deep sigh and a determined look in his, he quickly followed her. Fuck this, I'm done running away from my problems and I am done with losing you.

[Y/n] closes the door behind her as she enters the roof of the building, her heart beating erratically from nervousness and running.

She gazed up, admiring the smokey red skies of hell. Sitting down on the floor and placing the plate of apple pie on the floor, taking out her phone and began scrolling while simultaneously eating. Finally calming down, Lucifer probably won't follow me here. Is what she thought.

(Loud incorrect buzzer)

She didn't notice the door to the roof opened ever so slowly, as she was immersed in scrolling her phone.

Lucifer was able to finally catch up to her, his eyes softening to see her sitting on the floor and scrolling through her phone as she ate. Slowly, he approached her and took a seat next to her which made [y/n] flinched in surprise.

“Lucifer?!” she says nervously and he quickly shushes her with his gloved hand, “Shh, let's just eat in peace.” he says softly, almost a whisper. He can tell that the girl is still nervous and he chuckles.

“Don't act like we didn't do this before.” he says softly with a smile and [y/n] scoffs lightly, “It... It was different.” she answers, her voice almost a whisper.

“Why would it be any different now?” he asked with a smile on his face and [y/n] wanted to answer but just sighs and decided to continue eating. Shutting off her phone. Lucifer smiled, clearly amused at her behavior. He too began to eat the delicious apple pie.

The two ate in silence and beside each other, Lucifer summoning his wings and using his wings to keep the girl warm.

This is progress.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @khafskii @velvettenoctus @hello-imperson @lafy-taffy @cocomollo @samenene @gracefullyfallinglikeanime @lu-ferri12

#lxkeee answers #lxkeee updates #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader

504 notes · View notes