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After All This Time | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hello! Who wants to have their feelings hurt?! 🙋🏻‍♀️ I love some good angst, some pain, some emotional turmoil.

Warnings: relationship drama, references to violence, arguments, crying, ex!Bucky

“What are you doing here?” You stared at Bucky, shocked. Perplexed. He had no business at your apartment. Especially not so late at night. Especially not after what he’d done. The way he’d treated you. It took a long time- too long- to achieve some sense of normalcy after things fell apart. After he broke your heart. You weren’t over him; you feared you never would be. But you finally arrived at something that resembled stability. You were nearly okay- nearly.

But Bucky’s unexpected presence took you out at the knees. Was he always this beautiful? Or did you just miss him? His hair was a bit longer, his stubble a little scruffier. His deep blue eyes softened at the sight of you. No, he was always this beautiful. Dammit.

His expression was stern. Serious. Just like it had been when he left. He’d promised you he’d never come back. “Can I come in?” He was a liar, apparently.

“What? No.”

Bucky breezed past you anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest, hiding the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra. Your arms hugged your body, crisscrossing over your old college shirt. Thank god you hadn’t opted to wear one of the many henleys he’d left behind. The humiliation of him seeing you in one of his old shirts would’ve been too much. You knew you shouldn’t wear them anymore, but you couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop yourself from cloaking your body in the comfort they provided. It was sad, maybe even a little pathetic. But you didn’t know how to stop.

“Hey- You can’t just barge into my apartment-”

“Shut the door.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “No. What do you- get out.”

Bucky closed and locked the door for you. His fingers twisted the key in the deadbolt and fastened the chain. He even pulled on the door once- then twice. It was secure. He positioned his body in front of it- either blocking your way out or someone else’s way in. You weren’t sure which.

“Go pack a bag. We’re leaving here in five minutes.” He checked his watch, “Sooner, if you can manage it.” He looked up from his wrist and finally let himself drink you in. Were you always this breathtaking? Or was he just happy to see you? Your skin glowed in the yellow light of your reading lamp. Your hair was shorter now- he liked it. Yeah, you were always this intoxicating. Bucky wondered how he could even question it.

“Are you out of your mind? We’re not going anywhere.” Anger was easier. Easier than sadness, than heartbreak. You let wrath wrap itself around your heart, shielding you from the pain. Bucky didn’t belong in your home anymore, no matter how badly you wished he did. He didn’t want to be here- he didn’t want you. He’d made that painfully clear.

And though part of you liked seeing him here, existing in the home you once shared, you knew it would only serve to hurt you. Your voice was quieter this time, less confident, “You need to leave.”

He let out a huff, as though he had the right to be annoyed with you. “Just trust me on this,”,

“Trust you? That’s hilarious-”

“You’re not safe here,” he said. His tone was firm, irrefutable. “Someone attacked Pepper and Morgan. Clint’s wife, Laura, and their kids. Murdock’s associate- that guy Nelson.”

A burst of worry shot through you, “Shit. Are they okay?”

“They’re fine. They’ve all been relocated.” He wondered how you could worry about others while bypassing any concern for yourself. But the distress on your face was real; you’d gotten close with the families of the team before Bucky left. They welcomed you like one of their own, and your care for them survived even after things with Bucky died.

“Sam is taking his sister and her kids somewhere- everyone’s moving their loved ones.”

Silence. You waited for Bucky to elaborate. He waited for you to put the pieces together.

“So… why are you here? What does any of that have to do with me?”

“Hydra. They’re coming after our lov-” Bucky cleared his throat, “the people in our lives.”

You shook your head, “Yeah, I get that. But I’m not in your life.”

Bucky knew you weren’t his anymore, but hearing you say it cut him to the bone.

The strong façade you wore threatened to crumble. This was too much for you- almost cruel. Back when things were good, they were really good. You planned on staying with Bucky forever. You saw yourself marrying him, spending the rest of your days together. He’d had other plans. He left you. And never looked back.

“I’m fine here,” you told him. “I don’t need you.”

Bucky struggled for words. This was harder than he thought. “Well… they- they don’t know that we...” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Hydra, I mean, they don’t know what um, what happened. We were pretty public- they might think we’re still together. So, I need to get you to a safe house. Just in case.”

“Why?” The question hung heavy in the air.

Bucky didn’t say a word.

“Since when do you care? Don’t act like I matter to you all of a sudden- don’t pretend that you’re worried about me.” You forced every ounce of emotion behind an impenetrable wall, “leave. I’m serious, I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You’re in danger. And I…” He ran a hand through his hair “Just come with me. Let me protect you.”

“I’m not yours to protect.” The stinging sensation of approaching tears burned behind your eyes. “So… you can go.”

Your words gutted him. He hadn’t felt this much pain since he left, since the last time he saw you. He’d left you alone in the apartment you once shared. He’d shut the door and stood on the other side, unable to walk away. His forehead rested against the wood, and he listened to you. The sound of you sobbing- wailing- drove stakes into his chest. But he knew it was better this way.

“Yeah, I know that…” he said, his voice softer now. “But your family, your friends- they’ll be devastated if something happens to you. Don’t do that to them. Come with me. And when this blows over, I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

You hated that he was right. To let your pride endanger your life was selfish, stupid. You could practically hear your mom telling you to go with him.

But there was a side of you would rather die at the hands of Hydra than share a safe house with Bucky. Sure, you missed him. A lot. You wished he’d never walked out that door. But spending days- or weeks- with him? Just the two of you? In a secluded location? It would tear you to pieces.

You grumbled under your breath, “fine. How long will we be gone?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, then- where are we going?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Coordinates will be sent to the jet once we board.”

“Okay, great. Perfect. I don’t know how much to pack. I don’t know what kind of clothes I need. Awesome. Thanks, James.” You turned on your heel and headed toward your bedroom, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

James. James. You’d never called him James. Ever. Not even in a joking sense. He was always Bucky or Buck or Barnes or baby- depending on the context. Never James. It was so impersonal, you regarding him by his government name. So cold. Distant. He knew he deserved it- deserved way worse. But it stung, nonetheless.

With you busy in the other room, Bucky drank in the warmth of your apartment. It was inviting, cozy. Just like always. You’d gotten a few new pieces of art since he left; they took up the spaces left empty by the photos you removed. The picture of the two of you from a Stark gala. A strip of the two of you laughing in a photo booth at the pier. A polaroid of him kissing your cheek at Sam’s birthday party. He wondered what you did with them. Did you still have them- somewhere? Did you hide them away in a dusty box under the bed he used to share with you?

Or did you burn them?

He missed living there. Missed waking up next to you, missed making dinner for you. Missed you.

“Hey, I’m sorry to call so late…” you said into your phone, cradling it between your ear and your shoulder. “I’m gonna have to work from, um- I have to leave town for a little while.”

Bucky heard you on the phone with your boss, doing your best to lie your way through the situation. But you didn’t give much detail, just like he’d taught you when you first started dating. He told you never to trust anyone fully- never to believe that someone is worthy of every secret. He’d been speaking about outsiders. But when he left, he proved to you that no one deserved your trust. Not even him.

“Yeah, just family stuff,” he heard you say. “My cousin has been sick and took a turn for the worst, so… I need to be there just in case.”

He was so proud.

You stuffed clothes into a bag and rounded up the necessary toiletries. Your laptop, headphones, and a few books made the cut, and you grabbed the bag’s zipper, prepared to give it a final yank. But as you tried to close it up, a piece of fabric caught your eye. You let out a deep sigh. You’d moved on instinct, grabbing things from your closet and dresser without thinking. And some of Bucky’s old clothes had found their way among your items.

A flannel, two henleys, and a sweatshirt sat nestled at the bottom of your bag. They were some of your favorite things to wear- soft, comfortable, cozy. But you couldn’t bring them with you. Not when there was a chance Bucky would see them. You quickly swapped them out with pieces that didn’t belong to him and thanked the universe you’d noticed before it was too late.

When you emerged moments later with duffel bag in hand, Bucky was waiting for you. He hadn’t moved from his spot by the door. Hadn’t taken off his jacket. He wasn’t welcome here anymore. And making himself at home wasn’t right.

“Uh, here’s this,” he outstretched a hand in your direction and offered you a phone. “We can’t be sure that your phone isn’t being tracked. So, you have to leave yours here. This is a burner- just for emergencies.”

You dropped your phone on the counter with a dramatic groan and took the burner from his hand. Not only were you to be trapped for an indeterminant amount of time with the man who ripped your heart out of your chest and eviscerated it in front of your eyes- but you also had to give up your phone. “This feels like a kidnapping.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” He made a move for your bag, “I can take that for you-”

“I got it”.

With a nod, he opened the door and checked the hall for potential dangers. And when he deemed it safe, he gestured for you to join him. He watched you lock the door- and smiled to himself when he realized you still used the same key. You never changed the locks after he left.

“This is the most conspicuous thing I’ve ever seen…” A jet sat on the roof of your building, just a few feet from the stairwell. “If Hydra didn’t know where I was before, they definitely do now.”

Bucky gave an awkward laugh, paired with a quiet “yeah”, and tried to help you board. But you shied away from any attempts as assistance. You needed to prove to Bucky that you didn’t need him anymore- no matter how untrue it was.

The flight was awkward. Quiet. Tense. You couldn’t escape to the back of the jet and hide from Bucky- there was no ‘back’. It was a small aircraft. Only enough room for two. It forced you to sit next to him, watching clouds paint with windows with their condensation as the jet sliced through the sky.

“So…” Bucky said after a while, “how’ve you been?”

You quieted him with a look.

The answer to his question was complicated- you didn‘t have the emotional energy to explain. Diving into how angry and miserable and lonely you’d been since his departure would take hours. Maybe days. And he didn’t deserve the inside scoop. He wasn’t welcome to your secrets or the inner workings of your mind- not anymore.

“We’re here…” Bucky said, his voice pulling you from your light sleep. You didn’t realize you’d nodded off. But sleep was the only escape from the painfully awkward situation he’d put you in.

“Okay, so…” Bucky opened the door to the house and gestured for you to enter before him. Still such a gentleman. “I know this place is kinda small. But I’m gonna do my best to not be in your space.” He flipped on a few lights and bathed the house in a warm yellow light. “They promised that the kitchen is stocked. I think there’s firewood somewhere in case we get cold. And there should be clean sheets and towels and stuff in a closet somewhere. As for the, um…” He cleared his throat, “the sleeping arrangements. There’s only one bedroom, so it’s yours- I’m gonna take the couch.”

He threw his bag over the back of the couch and watched it bounce against the cushions. “Let me know if you need anything.”

What you needed, he couldn’t give you. He couldn’t go back in time and reverse the effects of breaking your heart. He couldn’t rid you of the agony brought on by his absence. And so, with a curt nod, you bid him goodnight.

It was nearly three in the morning by the time you made the bed and crawled beneath the covers. You curled into a ball and pulled the blankets up over your head, as though protecting yourself. This had to be a joke. A prank. The wound Bucky’s departure caused had barely scabbed over- and his return flayed it wide open. It throbbed and ached as you cried under the safety of your blankets. You didn’t know what you’d done in a past life to deserve hurt like this.

Bucky collapsed onto the couch. He slumped forward and rested his head in his hands, replaying every moment since you opened the door. The look on your face when you saw him again, the disdain in your voice, the distrust you held for him- it made his chest ache. He hated himself for throwing away the best thing he’d ever had. For hurting you. For breaking the trust you’d built together.

He didn’t sleep that night- the pain didn’t let him. He, instead, remained awake. Wired. He cleaned his guns. Double and triple checked his supply of ammo. He made sure every window was locked, every door secure. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.

The following day passed slowly. Bucky made enough breakfast for both of you, and kept your portion warm while he did the dishes and waited for you to wake. But you never joined him. You remained holed up in your room, miserable.

You didn’t care about Hydra; they couldn’t hurt you more than Bucky already had. Sure, they could beat you senseless and bleed you dry. They could torture you and hold you hostage. But it simply couldn’t compare. Physical injuries heal. They scab over and turn to scars. But the pain Bucky caused never ceased. The wound bled day and night. His mark on you could never be fixed.

Only when your hunger pangs grew painful did you leave the safety of your room.

“Hey, I made breakfast…” Bucky said when you finally emerged, “I tried to keep yours warm but- it’s in the fridge if you want it. I know it’s well past breakfast time and you probably don’t want cold spinach scramble and hashbrowns, but-”

He was being so nice; he still remembered your favorite breakfast. You thought back on all the Sunday mornings you’d spent together, making breakfast and listening to music. Drinking coffee. Dancing in the kitchen until the food almost burned. But you banished the memories. And sent away the warm feelings brought on by Bucky cooking for you again.

You didn’t make eye contact, didn’t thank him. Instead, you rummaged through the cabinets until you found a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread. “I’ll make something for myself,” you told him.

“Oh- okay, yeah. Knives are in the drawer to your left.” Bucky felt himself hovering. He stood across the kitchen island from you like an expectant child hoping for the approval of a stern parent. He knew he’d never get it, didn’t deserve it. But he couldn’t help himself. Being so close to you felt good. Really good. And though he’d promised he wouldn’t invade your space, he found it impossible to walk away.

You, however, couldn’t get away fast enough. You hastily made a sandwich and grabbed a glass of water before retreating to you room, safe from Bucky’s gaze. With the door shut, you allowed yourself to sink down to the floor. A gnawing sense of soul-crushing sadness eclipsed any feelings of hunger. But you forced the sandwich down anyway. You swore to yourself that everything would be okay, that you’d go home soon enough and try once again to heal.

But you didn’t believe your own words.

Bucky hated how uncomfortable you were around him. It was his fault, and he knew it, but it made him sad all the same. At one time, he’d been the person you loved most. The person you cared for. The one you could trust. You knew, without a doubt, that you could go to him with anything. Any problem, any worry- no matter how small. And he’d find a way to make it better. And if he couldn’t fix it, he could at least make you smile. He could bring you comfort and make you feel safe. Loved. He was the only one you wanted. The only person for you. His soul and yours were forged in the same fire- just a few decades apart.

But that fire was dead- snuffed out. And Bucky no longer held the secret key to your heart. He brought you only anguish and anxiety. Torment. Agony. And he hated himself for it.

He wondered if you’d spent all your time hiding in that bedroom. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. You weren’t happy around him like you used to be- why would you subject yourself to such unpleasant feelings unless it were absolutely necessary? He resolved to give you as much space as possible, to leave the room when you made your way to the kitchen. To not hover. Anything to make you more comfortable.

And if that meant that he didn’t get to speak to you for the remainder of your time in hiding, then so be it.

That night, however, he got to speak to you again.

He didn’t rest the night of your arrival, not even for a moment. And it finally got to him. He turned in early, falling asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace. The last few embers glowed orange beneath the charred wood, but all warmth was gone. His sleeping form tossed and turned beneath a thin blanket. Droplets of sweat bloomed from his skin as heaving breaths forced their way into his chest.

A familiar sound woke you in the middle of the night. You hadn’t heard it in quite some time, but knew you’d never forget it. Bucky was having a nightmare. And before you had a moment to rethink your actions, you were up. You ditched your bedding and fled in the direction of his screams.

And he woke to the soft sound of your voice.

“Bucky, hey…” you placed your hands on his shoulders. “Hey, wake up. Bucky-”

His eyes flew open and quickly focused on your face. And though your presence brought a relief he hadn’t experienced in what felt like years, it was too late. His heart hammered against his ribs; his lungs burned. He couldn’t breathe.

“You’re okay. You’re alright. Here-” One of your hands migrated from his shoulder to his chest while the other searched for one of his. You dragged his hand upward and mirrored the placement, pressing his palm to your sternum. It was muscle memory, a deep-seeded reflex you didn’t know you still had. You used to do it every night- back when Bucky was still yours. He liked it. He said it made him feel like you were synching your heartbeat with his. And it always calmed him down.

Bucky let loose a deep sigh of relief. It seemed to come from somewhere else completely, like he’d been holding his breath since the last time he touched you. Your pulse beat strong and steady beneath his hand, thudding against his palm like his own personal metronome. And maybe it was all in his head, but he felt his own heartrate slow. He breathed easier. A smile pricked at the corners of his mouth.

But you pulled away all too soon.

Bucky sat up in pursuit of your recoiling hand, “Thank you…”

“Yeah.” You stood, hoping to make it back to your room before the tears began to fall. But Bucky’s words stopped you.

“I really- I really appreciate you waking me. And doing… that. For me.” He felt himself growing sheepish, but couldn’t let the encroaching embarrassment get the best of him. “I missed it- I missed you.”

Something in you snapped.

You turned toward him with a strange mixture of anger and pain burning behind your eyes, your breathing growing ever sharper.

“Why am I here?” Your tone was calm, measured. It was the kind of rage that turned your words to ice. To stone.

He cocked his head to the side, “um, because of Hydra. Because you’re in danger…”

“But why am I here?” You felt yourself losing control, “You heard they were going after the team’s loved ones and you thought to yourself, ‘hmm, that girl I completely destroyed, that girl whose life I ruined, that girl who I most certainly do not love, that girl I left for no reason, she’s in danger! Hydra will probably go after her, you know, since I haven’t seen her or spoken to her in almost a year!’”

Bucky didn’t know what to say.

“This makes no fucking sense, James!”

James. You’d let one or two ‘Buckys’ slip earlier- never again.

“Why did you come to my apartment? Why did you fucking kidnap me and bring me to this stupid house? Why did you put me on the same tier as Tony’s wife? As Clint’s wife? We aren’t together, I’m not in your life, and I’m certainly not a ‘loved one’- you made that painfully clear. Why did you-”

“Because I still love you”

You rolled your tear-filled eyes, “Don’t you fucking lie to me.”

“I’m not lying…” Bucky sighed. “I swear on my life.”

An ugly scoff broke free from your throat, “I’m supposed to believe that? You once ‘swore on your life’ that you’d never hurt me. And that shit clearly wasn’t true, so-”

“I swear on Steve’s life. I swear on his grave,” Bucky’s voice wavered ever so slightly. “I still love you. I never stopped.”

It rendered you speechless.

“I never wanted to hurt you. And I didn’t want to leave. But I didn’t know what else to do.”

You stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. “You ‘didn’t know what else to do’? You left me because you ‘didn’t know what else to do’?”

Bucky shook his head. Regret pooled in his chest, and he wished to take back every stupid word. “That’s not what I meant-” he sighed. “I mean… I’m- I’m not meant for this. To be with someone. To be loved. Bad stuff- really bad stuff- follows me around. The war and the train and Hydra and Zemo and Thanos and the blip and the Flag Smashers and-”

He fought to catch his breath. “I break things. Anything I touch- it gets ruined.” He paused for a moment. Everything inside his head moved too fast. It blurred past him and fell from his lips before he had a chance to make edits. And if he was going to fix this, he needed to be in control.

“I never wanted to break you. Or put you in danger.”

“You never hurt me- physically…” you said. “You know I was never scared of you- I didn’t think I was ever in danger with you. I didn’t think you’d break me-”

“No, I know. I know.” Getting to that point had been hard for him. He shied away from you for so long, scared he’d somehow make you bleed or paint your skin with bruises. But you’d worked with him. You showed him patience and moved at his pace, working through the fear he held.

“What I mean is… I got scared because people knew about us. Our relationship was public. And I was afraid that putting you in the public eye like that would invite danger. A lot of people hate me- they want revenge. Retribution. So I thought…” he rolled his eyes at his past-self, at the version of him who let you get away. “I thought removing myself from your life would ensure your safety.” He shrugged, “no one would have reason to come after you if we weren’t together-”

“And look where we are now…” you said, “Hiding. In a safehouse. Because my life is in jeopardy.” Part of you- the soft side- wanted to show him mercy. To hold him and make him feel safe. To console him. But the side of you who wore brass knuckles and steel toed bootsa prevailed, “That was a really fucking stupid thing to do…”

Bucky gave a pained chuckle, “yeah, I- I know.” His cheeks reddened ever so slightly, and his shoulders slumped with shame. He knew he fucked up. “I’m sorry. About all of it. About leaving. About hurting you- God, I never wanted to hurt you.” The pain in his eyes could’ve made you crumble.

“And I’m sorry about putting you in harm’s way. About abducting you like this.” He took a small step in your direction; he couldn’t pretend like he wasn’t drawn to you. But he knew he had no right to exist in such close proximity to the person he hurt. And so he stopped himself, no matter how badly he wished he didn’t have to.

“But to answer your question with full honesty…” he said, “you’re here because I love you. Because I’ll always love you. And even though you hate my guts- which you absolutely should- I care about you. And I want to keep you safe, as safe as I can. I want to protect you.” He let out a sigh, “And I know you’re not… you’re not mine to protect, but-” The words tasted like vinegar. If Bucky thought hearing them hurt, he was wrong. Saying them was far worse. “you’re here because I would rather die than let anything happen to you.”

He didn’t like the way your shoulders were yanked up near your ears, the way your arms sat crossed over your chest- like you were trying to protect yourself. But he understood. He’d hurt you- badly. Left you gutted and bleeding. He knew you’d never trust another thing he said- rightfully so.

Silent tears flowed freely down your cheeks and dripped down your neck. The weight of Bucky’s words forced you to lean against the nearest wall. Everything your friends said about him, everything your family told you- it was wrong. He wasn’t apathetic. He wasn’t inconsiderate or manipulative. He was just misguided- maybe a little stupid.

“I told myself…” you finally said, “for months, I told myself that you never loved me. That you used me to make yourself feel better.”

Bucky vehemently shook his head, “that’s not-”

“What was I supposed to do? I needed something to make me feel better…” you said. “It was easier to think that you never loved me. But you left me because you loved me? That’s- that was a terrible idea, by the way.”

“I know…”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded from your eyes and left droplets on your shirt. “I want… I want to believe you. I want to believe every nice thing you just said and pick up right where we left off. But I’m…” You pulled the sleeves of your shirt over your hands and wiped the tears from your cheeks, “I’m scared- I’m scared to trust you again. To let my guard down.”

Bucky took another small step in your direction. “That’s fine, that’s… understandable- more than understandable. Smart.”

You nodded.

“And I don’t want you to think- I’m not telling you all of this to convince you to get back together with me. Or to upset you- I never want to hurt you again. You just deserve to know the truth. So…”

He wondered how the two of you got to this point. How you went from domestic bliss to something so ugly. But he knew exactly how it happened- it was his fault. And he didn’t deserve a second chance. He deserved to be alone for the rest of his life while you moved on, found someone new- someone better. He wanted that for you. Of course, he’d rather have you all to himself. But it wasn’t right.

“It’s just- I’ve been regretting… well, everything, since the moment I left. I wish I would’ve talked to you, you know? I wish I was honest. I wish I told you what was going on inside my head.” He ran a hand through his hair, “maybe things would’ve been different.”

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say these things…” you said. “But now that you’re saying them it feels…” The floor rocked beneath your feet. You teetered to the side and reached for the arm of the couch- it was all too much. The lack of sleep, the emotional exhaustion, the weight of Bucky’s words. You needed to sit.

Bucky reached for you, desperate to help you steady yourself- but he pulled away. He didn’t have permission to touch you. Not anymore.

“Things absolutely would’ve been different,” you let out a deep sigh. Every possible outcome you came up with ended far better than the reality. “Because we would’ve worked through it together. As a team. And no one would’ve gotten hurt.”

All Bucky could do was nod.

“And maybe we’d still end up in this safe house, but we’d probably use it as a makeshift romantic getaway instead of an agonizingly awkward prison sentence.”

The thought brought a smile to Bucky’s face, to yours. It was easy to imagine the two of you camped out in the living room, reading by the fire and drinking old-fashioneds. You’d stay up late watching movies together and sleep until noon. And when the threat was eliminated, you’d almost wish for more danger- anything to keep the two of you in your own little world.

Everything went quiet. Neither of you knew what to say- or if there were any words appropriate for the situation. Was there even anything else to be said? Part of you wanted to retreat to your bedroom. To hide under your covers. But you wouldn’t allow yourself to squander this moment.

A sad smile pulled at your lips. “I don’t know where… where are we supposed to go from here?” You stared at Bucky as though he had all the answers, as though it wasn’t him who burned your world to the ground.

“I don’t think we have to go anywhere,” he said. “Nothing has to change between us- like I said, I’m not trying to change your opinion about me or make you feel bad. When this whole thing blows over, I’ll take you home. I’ll stay out of your hair.” He leaned against the wall opposite you, submitting to his future- and to his past, “I know I can’t change what I did.”

Another long silence filled the space. It pushed its way in between the two of you and rested heavy against your chest. Bucky waited for a curt ‘okay’ or a quick ‘goodnight’, but no such thing came.

“What if I don’t want that?” you said after a while.

He pushed away from the wall, as though your words pulled him upright. “What?”

“What if I want to try again?” Your heart thundered against your chest, growing faster and faster with each passing second. You stood on the precipice, willing yourself to fall. This was your chance, the opportunity you’d hoped for. And though it sent fear coursing through your veins, you knew you had to jump.

“No matter how many times I tell myself that you hurt me for the fun of it or that you never actually loved me, I don’t believe it. I can’t- even if I want to…” you let out a sad laugh. “Because I know who you are- I know what we had was real. And I think- I know it’s worth trying again.”

A quick flash of pain and anxiety tore through you, hollowing your chest, “And yeah, maybe I’m stupid for being overly optimistic or letting myself be vulnerable with you. But I’m… I’m willing to risk getting hurt all over again.”

Bucky stood stone still, rooted in place. This was all he’d ever wanted. But now that he had it, he feared the thing his heart desired most. What if he fucked up again? What if he hurt you again? What if he squandered his second chance?

“Are you…” Bucky took a deep breath, “are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Because you’re the only person I’ll ever want, Buck. Because I love you.”

Bucky never thought he’d hear those words again. And before he knew it, he was on the ground in front of you. He sunk to his knees, incapable of standing any longer. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. His tears dampened your skin as he let his head fall against your thighs. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as he possible could. He feared you’d change your mind, that you’d take back everything you said. And if you did, he at least wanted to know that he held you. That he touched you one last time.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry- you have no idea how sorry I am”, he said between sharp breaths. “I’m gonna make it up to you. I’m gonna make it all up to you, okay? I promise. I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you, that I’d rather die than lose you again. And I’m-”

“Okay, hey… let’s relax a bit.” You met him on the floor and pulled his head against your chest. You ran a hand along his back, soothing him. His shaky breaths were so sharp, so ragged, that they seemed almost painful. “Breathe, Buck. I love you, okay? And I know you love me- I know. You don’t have to prove it.”

Bucky tried to deliver a rebuttal, but you wouldn’t allow it.

“Hey- it’s okay. We’re okay.” You tangled your fingers in his hair, eliciting a deep sigh from his chest. “We’re both tired. And emotional. Let’s just go to sleep, okay? It’s the middle of the night- we can talk things through in the morning.” You gently pulled his head from your chest and swiped the tears from his cheeks. Touching him again, holding him, provided the salve you needed. The wound in your chest started healing. The pain ceased. And for the first time in almost a year, you felt whole.

Your hands found Bucky’s and pulled him up right. With a gentle tug, you led him in the direction of your room.

“Come on,” you said, “let’s go to bed, baby.”

--------------------------------------

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @mrsdrysdale18 @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl l @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @duchessoftheheart @seitmai @itvy5601 @hisxsoulmate @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @masteroflightningz @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem@avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky

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southpawbitch · 7 months

Text

Style | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

(18+, minors dni)

word count: 3.1k

summary: like clockwork, bradley shows up at your door after a 'breakup'...except this time, you don't think he's going to ever come back

warnings: drinking, cheating (physical and emotional), happy ending for everyone except (spoiler)

A/N: written for @laracrofted's 1989 challenge! I got inspo for this from soo many things. obviously the song, but also hints of some of my fav sitcoms/drama series that involve this certain…trope. ie: the sabrina the teenage witch finale that makes me bawl my eyes out every time. it kinda lost the plot at some point, but hope u enjoy x MJ

You stand in front of the floor length mirror in your bedroom, looking over your outfit one more time. You lean forward, getting as close as you can to the mirror in order to fix your smudged red lipstick from sipping on beers all night. You’re still a little tipsy, having fixed yourself a drink when you got home, right before Bradley texted that he was picking you up. You didn’t ask any questions–you simply slipped on the shortest skirt you own, paired with a silky black tank top. You tousle your hair slightly, giving it a little more volume before picking up the drink and downing it as soon as you hear the familiar sound of his Bronco pulling into your drive.

You open the door and hop into the passenger seat, your skirt riding up almost completely, though neither of you mind. You and Bradley are both staring at each other in silence. He’s wearing a navy suit. His tie has been untied and is draped over his shoulders, while the top of his shirt is opened about three buttons down. His hair’s disheveled, and he looks tired.

“Hey.” He says in his low, gravelly voice, keeping his eyes on yours.

“Hi.” You respond sweetly, a small grin appearing on your face. His lips curl into a small smile of its own, unable to contain his emotions in seeing you for the first time in a few months. The last time the two of you hung out together with the rest of the group, you blacked out and Hangman had to take you home.

“Long time, no see.” He jokes, leaning over and placing his left hand on your cheek, kissing you hard. You lean back into the seat, wrapping your arm around his neck to pull him closer as he runs his tongue across your lip and pushes it into your mouth. You let out a moan because you’re tipsy and horny. It’s embarrassingly clear that you haven’t seen him in way too long.

He pulls away quickly, though, running his hands along his thighs before putting his car into reverse and backing out the driveway with one arm resting behind your head.

“Why so dressed up?” You question, holding your arm out the window, feeling the air slip through your fingers as you cruise down the road. It takes him a minute to answer because he’s distracted by all of the thoughts running through his head, and then he looks over at you, and you’re just like you always are. So pretty and carefree–answering his late night texts that he’s coming to pick you up without asking why.

He’s going to miss this. He’s going to miss you.

“A party.” It’s not a lie. It’s a half-truth, but he wants to spend one last great night with you before he tells you that he can’t do this anymore. He can’t yet tell you why he drove here from Los Angeles just to see you tonight. So, he takes you to get an Icee and the two of you take a walk along the beach, laughing and joking and avoiding any talk of what either of you have been up to the past few months since the last time you spoke. He doesn’t ask about the guy you posted on your Instagram story a few weeks back and you don’t ask about the girlfriend you assume he’s broken up with recently.

When Bradley takes you home a few hours later after steamy makeout sessions on both the beach and in the back of his car, he plans on leaving. He truly does. He plans on telling you what he came here to tell you, but he can’t get it out, and unfortunately, he’s never been able to resist the temptation of following you inside and up the stairs to your room.

“I'm getting married.” Bradley breathes out, almost in disbelief, chest rising and falling rapidly as he stares at the black fan on your ceiling. It’s spinning–pushing cool air down on his glistening skin, soaked with a thin layer of sweat. He’s been in this position hundreds of times–laying on his back next to you in your carefully curated bedroom. He’s always loved the mini statue of the Greek god Poseidon you have sitting on the nightstand next to where he sleeps–a reminder that this is his spot. You bought it for him years ago, but it never looked right amongst his boring belongings, so he kept it here. He turns his head to look at you, resting his cheek on his bicep that’s bent up, hand cradling his head on the pillow.

“You're getting married.” You repeat, propping yourself up on your forearm to look at him in the dim light coming from the floor lamp in the corner of the room by the window. The curtains are held back with black silk ribbons tied in little bows, and the moon shines through the window, casting a cool glow across the other side of the room. The sheet on top of you falls slightly, revealing your bare chest, but he keeps his eyes on yours. You wish you could say you’re surprised by the news, but deep down, you’re not. It’s what he’s always wanted.

Serena is perfect, at least from your point of view. She lets him have fun when he’s out and joins when she can. She never seems jealous or controlling or even high maintenance. She drinks whatever is around and smokes Jake in nearly every round of darts they play together. Everyone loved her right from the start. You could tell Bradley was smitten, so you backed off. It wasn’t the first time he got into a relationship while you were off, but you certainly didn’t think it would be the last, either. You never imagined he’d propose to her after only eight months together, but Bradley is thirty-four and not getting any younger, and you know getting married has always been something he’s wanted, which is why the two of you never would’ve worked out in the long run.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” He says softly, chest tightening at the fact that he somehow managed to hurt you and his bride-to-be in one fell swoop. What he really means is “I’m sorry I waited until after we had sex to tell you that I’m engaged” but he won’t say that out loud. It doesn’t matter either way. You know that this doesn’t mean anything, despite what Serena would think if she found out. It never really has–not since the first time you broke up many moons ago. You were only twenty-two. You had your whole life ahead of you and he was trying to get you to settle down. It wasn’t in the cards for you then or now, despite how happy you made each other.

“Where does she think you're at right now?” You ignore his apology, attempting to get to the bottom of his unexpected visit. It isn’t like him to do something like this. For all the years you’ve known him, he’s never had wandering eyes, even when it comes to you. He gets a girlfriend, they break up, he shows up at your door. Wash, rinse, repeat. It’s why you thought he came here in the first place.

“She’s in LA with her sister for the weekend.” He fails to mention the engagement party from earlier today, and the work emergency he faked in order to drive back earlier than expected. You nod, pushing yourself up and bringing the sheet with you, feeling slightly more exposed than you did when he was pounding into you from behind ten minutes ago. You look around your room. It’s dark, but you can still make out everything. All the stuff you’ve collected from ten years of living in San Diego. Eight years of knowing, and loving, Bradley means that he’s weaved himself into nearly every aspect of who you are and who you always will be.

“Why are you here?” You don’t sound mad, but he’s scared that you are. You sound too calm, like you’re going to snap any second. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. It’s really strange–the feeling that rushes over you when the realization hits that maybe this is the last time. Maybe this is just his fucked up way of saying goodbye to you and your situationship forever.

“I came to tell you…that’s it. I just–I wanted us to have one more night together.” And when Bradley’s looking at you with those big, brown eyes you can see how genuine he is, despite the fact that he’s just cheated on his soon-to-be wife. You feel a little sick, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you nod your head in understanding and rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as your eyes close slowly.

“I always thought it would be you.” Nat says sadly as you lay on her bed, watching her get ready. Your eyes meet hers in the mirror, lips parted as she swipes the maroon stain across her lips.

“What do you mean?” You ask, sitting up and crossing your legs, leaning back on your hands for support. She’s rolling her eyes at you as she turns around, rubbing her lips together and putting her hands on her hips.

“With Bradley. The two seemed so good together.” Today of all days–his wedding day–she decides to say this to you. It’s not the first time one of your mutual friends has made a comment about the state of your relationship. Every time you and Bradley broke up in the past, Bob would tell you that he was certain you’d find a way to push through the differences. It’s sweet that they all care, but they don’t know Bradley like you do, and they certainly don’t know you like Bradley does. If they did, they might hold their tongues.

“Until we weren’t.” You chuckle, shaking your head. “I’m happy for him. Really.” And you aren’t lying. You’ve run through about every emotion imaginable since you found out they were getting married, which was only six months ago. You’ve gone through the five stages of grief a few times, and now you’ve settled on inner peace. You're far from not caring, but if you truly love someone, you should allow them to be happy.

“I know what happened in February.” She deadpans, face falling into a serious expression. There’s less sympathy now. More pity. At least, that’s what it feels like on your end. February. Six months ago.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrug, frantically grabbing your bag and rummaging through it like you’re looking for something important. You just came to help her pick out an outfit and give moral support for the big event–not to get berated for something you did so long ago now. She crosses her arms in front of her chest–the silk of her dress bunches slightly.

“Obviously you do.” She sighs, grabbing her heels and taking a seat in the chair by her bed closest to you, undoing the clasps and sliding them on. “Bradley tells me everything.”

“Then I'm sure you know it was just a lapse in judgment.” You wonder if she knows that he failed to mention his engagement until after the sex. Somehow, you think she wouldn’t be nearly as disappointed in you if she knew that.

“I told him not to marry her.” Nat lets out a chuckle. “I told him that if any part of him isn't sure about her, he shouldn't do it.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because he doesn't love her. He loves you.”

Bradley loving you is the most ridiculous concept you can think of. You dated on and off for a good five years before officially calling it quits three years ago. He began to date a lot, but would come around as soon as it was over to get a fix of you. You’re that kind of girl. You’re not the marrying type.

There’s just something about you that he can’t resist–no matter how long it’s been or how angry he was the last time he saw you. You two were always getting into it, fighting over anything and everything. All of those feelings would slip from his mind the moment he saw you, and you’d spend a couple nights together going at it like you never stopped. He loved that you were always there for him, not just for sex, but for everything else, too. He told you about Mav and you’re actually the reason he made amends a couple of years ago. Mav loves you, too. His friends became your friends–some of them like you better than him, even. Your lives fit together so seamlessly, yet it’s always felt like something wasn’t quite adding up.

The breaking up was never really anyone’s fault. It was everything and nothing at the same time. He used to think it was because he met the right person at the wrong time, but it seems like all the other times you tried, it never worked out, either. He refused to believe you were the wrong person until he met Serena.

Serena is everything that you aren’t. Mostly, she’s stable. She lets Bradley know when she’s going to come home late or when she has errands to run. She leaves him little notes if she has to leave his place early in the morning and sends cute messages throughout the day, letting him know she’s thinking of him. She’s a teacher. She loves kids and she’s incredibly thoughtful and Bradley never imagined he could be with someone like that until he met her.

But comparing her to you in the first place is exactly where he went wrong.

She’s sweet–too sweet. She doesn’t get his or his friends’ humor and she goes to bed early, even on the weekends. Bradley bought her tickets to see one of her favorite bands play in Los Angeles, but she turned them down because she promised to attend a little league soccer tournament a couple of her students were playing in that day. Bradley gave them to Nat, who took you, and he sat watching eight-year-olds kick a ball around all day while you were having the time of your life a couple hours away.

Bradley’s staring at himself in the mirror. The guys are lounging on the couches behind him, drinking beer and watching whatever college football game is currently playing while he tries to figure out what he wants. He guesses he probably should've figured that out before he drove himself to the wedding venue this morning, but here he is.

He looks down at the letter in his hands. A small, folded up piece of notebook paper that has worn edges and a few tears. He’s had it for a long time–longer than he’d like to admit. He opens it up and reads over the lines like he has a thousand times before. What he doesn’t realize is that Mav is standing over his shoulder, reading along with him.

“That’s love if I’ve ever seen it. And I did.” He says with a smile, clapping Bradley’s shoulder and nearly giving him a heart attack. He makes eye contact with him in the mirror–eyes full of horror at the fact that Mav just read something way too personal that he’s never shown anyone–not even the person the note was intended for. “I can give that to Serena if you want…before the ceremony?”

“No–no…it’s not–” Bradley’s at a loss for words. Mav’s making it worse by assuming it’s for his fiancée. The woman he’s supposed to be marrying in a few hours. Bradley sighs, head falling down to stare at the paper again. When he looks up, Mav sees in his eyes that there’s a lot going on in his head. “It’s not meant for–”

And then, just behind Mav, out the window that shows part of the parking lot, he sees you. You’re wearing sweats and wandering around like you have no idea where you’re at. Mav notices Bradley’s eyes shift and turns around, spotting you as you stand in place and pull out your phone, attempting to call Bradley one more time. When he turns back around, Bradley is gone.

Eight years, five failed relationships, and one engagement is all it took for Bradley to realize he’s been the problem all along. It was never about marriage or you being a free spirit. It’s been him and his stubborn ideals that have held him back from being happy just the way he was with you. He’s the reason that he could never fully give himself to you, and rereading the note he wrote to you years ago on the day of his wedding to another woman made him realize that it’s you. It’s always been you.

When you see each other in the parking lot, it’s like everything stops. You stop walking and Bradley slows his running to a walk, holding a flimsy piece of paper in one hand. Your brows furrow. He’s breathing heavily, chest rising and falling through the thin fabric of his white t-shirt. He doesn’t look like he’s about to get married.

“What are you doing out here?” You ask, suddenly feeling nervous. You weren’t planning on meeting him like this. In fact, you thought you were going to have to speak to Jake or Mav in order to get to him. You thought there would be begging. Part of you even expected to be turned away before you could get your message to him. You swallow the lump in your throat as you step closer to him.

“I can’t do it.” He admits. “I want you to have this.” He reaches his hand out, the piece of paper flapping lifelessly in the light wind. You take it from him, holding it gingerly as you look down and read the brief note. It’s no more than a few sentences, detailing Bradley’s fear of how much he loves you. How much he needs you. Most importantly, how much he can’t wait to spend his whole life by your side–however that may look. That he’s always wanted what his parents had, and he thought that meant getting married, but he’s already got it with you. It’s dated back a few years ago. Right before he had broken up with you for the last time.

“This is true?” You question, eyes filling with tears. Out of all the ways you saw this playing out in your head, this was not one of them. He nods, stepping forward and putting his hands on your arms.

“Is that okay?” He questions softly, voice almost a whisper. You nod your head, unable to form actual words. The parking lot is crowded with vendors and staff getting ready for the wedding, but it feels like you and Bradley are the only two people on Earth. Like it always feels when you two are together. “Now let’s get out of here.”

...#justiceforserena

I super enjoyed writing this and being apart of the challenge!!!! thank you so much @laracrofted for doing this <3

#bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction

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rizsu · 1 year

Text

to each their own manjiro sano. wakasa imaushi. gojo satoru.

sum. relationship moments

manjiro sano.

it's not a secret that mikey's private about his life—private to the point where no one knows if he even lives in japan (specifically tokyo) anymore. so, it's more than safe to say that everyone in bonten's inner circle was surprised when mikey ended the meeting early due to you being in the hospital. of course not for pregnancy—mikey does not agree with kids and you think they're a little too expensive.

we have kokonoi, who didn't hold back with his curiosity. simply asking his boss, “who's the girl and why's she in there?” sanzu, who holds back whatever he wants to say. rindou and ran, who are quiet but nudging each other as a sign. kakucho, who offered to drive mikey to the hospital. and lastly, akashi and mochi who lacks interest in the current topic. they're curious but not like the others.

mikey declines kakucho and ignores the questions, opting for a simple “do whatever. i'll be gone for two days.” before leaving one of bonten's many headquaters.

busy footsteps, random conversations and the clinks of medical glass tubes replace the silence for noise. he hates it. mikey hates the hospital. he doesn't know why nor does he want to know why—he just does. maybe it's the countless times he's been here to hear the confirmation of someone's death or maybe it's the unsure feeling of whether someone's going to die or not. whatever it is, he doesn't care.

“excuse,” mikey stops a nurse. he's been walking around in confusion because he refused to ask which room you're in but the consequences of walking around is getting to his legs. keeping his hands in his pockets, he continues, “do you know which room and floor patient y/n is?”

giving him a customer service smile, the nurse looks down to her clipboard before responding, “she's on floor four, room twelve on the left.”

you've got to be fucking with me.

mikey steps to the elevator, slapping the “floor 4” button while he waits for it to open with an attitude. maybe today isn't his day.

and you? you're absolutely calm. nothing much is going on in your room other than you eating some chips while watching the cartoon that's showing on the t.v.

raising the bag to empty all the crumbs in your mouth, you choke a little seeing a small, black silhouette.

mikey walks closer, flicking his finger on your forehead, “you.”

“listen, i didn't see it.” quick to defend yourself, you try to explain the lore behind you ending up in the hospital for a broken ankle.

mikey sits on the bed, hand caressing the bandage over your ankle. if you study his face, you can see a little smile on it. very, very little smile. looking up at you, mikey eyes your expression before asking, “are you okay though?”

nodding a “yes”, you pull his hand away from your ankle and intertwine it with yours. a silence dawns on you both—the same silence that takes over before mikey initiates a kiss and so he does.

using his free hand to hold your chin, he brings you closer and connects your lips together. you can say it's his way of continuing a conversation. after all, mikey's shows his love in actions instead of words most of the time.

wakasa imaushi.

who is wakasa if not the number one trickster? certainly not himself if he's not. it's a daily occurrence for wakasa to pull a prank on you at least three times week—at minimum that is. at twenty-seven, wakasa takes pride in being the only one who can catch you at surprise.

but sadly, all jokes must come to an end. although he's a childish trickster, he also gets drunk which makes the perfect equation for terrible drunk decisions and hangovers worse than satan himself.

“just come here, pleaseeeee.” “no.” “i'll just die then.”

there are four words to describe a sick wakasa and they're: dramatic and extremely clingy. you've been dealing with this since dawn. mr. drink-it-all had an outing with his friends and came back home knocked out, red cheeks, a hand gripping on a beer and him slung over benkei and shinichiro. now you're suffering the consequences of being a good girlfriend and taking care of him and his hungover.

making a u-turn from the kitchen to his body sprawled over the couch, you place down the bowl of soup and some painkillers, “eat up and eat it all.”

before you can walk away, wakasa grabs your arm and yanks you down onto his lap. immediately snaking one hand across your stomach to secure you there, he happily eats his meal.

“wakasa—”

“this tastes good.”

“let me—”

“make some more.”

“ok but you—”

“is there any more?”

pinching his skin, you feel your eye twitch, “cut me off when i'm speaking one more time i swear.”

laughing at your sentence, wakasa puts the spoon down. he leans back on the couch and pulls you into his chest even more. this time, both hands are circled on your stomach. lowering his head on your shoulder, he complains “feelin' like shit.”

“finish your soup and we'll go to sleep after.”

gojo satoru.

it's silent. too silent for the two that live in the house. well, when push comes to shove and arguments take place, it's bound to be a tense silence. here we have gojo satoru, a man that can't take anything seriously and y/n l/n, a woman who also can't take anything seriously but nothing good comes out of arguing with someone who's just like you.

after a heated argument, you've marked your territory by sleeping in the middle of the bed and gojo's marked his by making a “fort” with the cushions, a random sheet and his designated pillow. although both parties and comfortable they can't help but think that something's missing.

gojo's the first to make a move. he opens the “door” to his fort but stops himself. he vividly remembers what happened last time he annoyed you when you were mad. the fear still lives in him. on your side, you're already at the door, debating whether you should go to him or not. i'm sure the couch's uncomfortable, you worry. after all, gojo's long and the couch isn't.

sneaking up to the couch, you try to be as quiet as possible incase he's asleep already. tiptoeing up to where you think gojo's at, you're met with a mess in the living room instead.

“...gojo fucking satoru.” “knock before talking!”

you feel exactly like a cartoon character that has those three veins pop up when mad. if gojo's anything other than serious, he's childish. now don't get it wrong—you absolutely love him but most times he does questionable things that makes you go ‘???’

“knocking” on the cushion, you wait patiently for gojo to open it. kicking the cushion out from inside, gojo crawls out and stands up to face you. now it's him, his pillow and his grin that he's desperately trying to hide.

“okay jokes aside, i'm sorry.” gojo breaks the silence first. he awkwardly shifts around, rocking back and forth on his feet wondering if you'd let him hold you right now.

it's your turn to stifle a laugh now. he's cute, you think. if there's another thing about gojo it's that he's awkward and cute with his apologies (well at least to you..)

“it's okay, satoru. now fix that mess and come upstairs” pulling him into a hug, your hands travel up and down his back before you give him a little kiss, pulling away to walk back upstairs to leave him with his fort.

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splendidcas · 2 years

Text

Safe House

Summary: it's been a long time since Dmitri has been with a woman. too long. (also oh noooo there's only one bed for them what ever are they going to do??)

Pairing: Dmitri (Enzo) Antonov x Afab!Reader (with nicknames "princess" and "angel")

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: smutty smut smut. reader embarrasses herself bc of course she does, oral (m and f receiving), p in v penetration, creampie, cursing, fluff

MINORS DNI

A/N: is this plot absolutely ridiculous? ...yes and what about it? also for the sake of plot Enzo's son does not exist in this fic thank u very much. russian translations at bottom of fic!

feedback gives me life!

You couldn't wait to take a shower.

After almost a full day of traveling in the snow and trying to keep warm on the way to one of Yuri's "many safe houses," you were exhausted, sore, and above all, freezing. A hot shower had been the only thing on your mind since the moment you all escaped the Russian prison.

Well, maybe not the only thing.

Okay, so you'd also been thinking about Dmitri since the second you laid eyes on him. He was unbearably good looking, kind, and he had an air of mystery about him that you just couldn't shake.

When you, Joyce and Murray finally reunited with Hopper, you'd initially been too consumed with Joyce and Hopper's tearful greeting to notice the quiet man behind Hop. But when you did notice him, his blue eyes met yours and he gave you a small smile and a nod, and your stomach fluttered. You knew then--you were screwed.

And apparently, Murray knew it too, which is why you now found yourself sharing a room and a bed with Dmitri in Yuri's safe house.

Shaking the snow off your boots as you walked into the log cabin, the first thing you noticed was the instant relief from the slight increase in temperature. The second thing you noticed was how small the cabin was for the lot of you. The kitchen and living room blended into one, and while there were three small separate bedrooms with very tiny adjoining bathrooms, there were only two beds and two small couches. And 6 of you.

"Uh, Yuri, not that I'm not grateful for a place to stay but...where are all of us going to sleep?" Joyce questioned gently as she took a look around.

Yuri laughed loudly. "Ah, you don't want to cuddle up with your fellow Americans?"

"I know I don't want to cuddle up with my 'fellow Americans'," Murray said. "I'm taking a couch."

You watched Joyce and Hopper whisper for a moment before Hop spoke up. "We'll share a bed."

"I will take the second bed, since I am such a generous host and brought all of you here. It is the least I deserve," Yuri exclaimed with a knowing grin. He loved to see how far he could push everyone's buttons.

"Yeah, uh, no," you protested. "That would leave me and Dmitri with one couch. There's no way we would both fit." Your cheeks heated up at the thought of you and your new handsome Russian friend squeezing together on one small couch.

You didn't see it, but Murray caught the blush on your cheeks. His eyes narrowed, flitting between you and Dmitri before a smirk graced his face. It was time once again for him to play matchmaker. "Then it's settled! Y/N and Enzo will share a bed. Yuri, you're on a couch."

You had opened your mouth to protest, but it was too late. Everyone retreated to their respective bedrooms, leaving you and Dmitri in a whole lot of awkward silence. Your fingers began to fidget, searching for something to say as you avoided his eyes. It's not that you didn't want to share a bed with him, oh no, it was actually the opposite. You really wanted to share a bed with him. But god, were you nervous.

Dmitri suddenly cleared his throat, getting you to look up. He looked almost...nervous? "Ah, I apologize. If you're uncomfortable sharing a bed I am more than happy to sleep on the floor. I've...gotten used to it anyways."

Your heart broke at that. You couldn't imagine the conditions he'd had to endure before your rescue mission. There's no way you'd let him sleep on the floor. "Dmitri--"

"You can call me Enzo," he interrupted quietly, giving you a small smile.

"Enzo," you repeated, returning his smile. "I'm not letting you sleep on the floor. It's really okay, I promise. I'm comfortable sharing a bed as long as you're comfortable."

The adorable little smile stayed on his face as he nodded. "I'm comfortable."

Ignoring the way your heart raced at the thought of sharing such an intimate space with him, you nodded, biting your lip. "Alright then. It's settled."

Which brought you to now. Finally, shower time. Enzo had just finished showering before you, and you inwardly shamed yourself at the disappointment you felt at not getting to see him in a towel.

Peeling your damp, frigid clothes off, you sighed in relief as the steamy, hot air from the shower hit your skin. This is what you'd been looking forward to all day. This, and getting into some comfortable pajamas afterward. You showered relatively quickly as you worried you'd run out of hot water, and you felt loads better. Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped yourself in an old, thready towel and looked for your change of clothes.

And that's when you realized--you forgot to grab your change of clothes.

"Damn it," you muttered to yourself. You had no choice; you'd have to go out in a towel in front of Enzo.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly opened the door and peeked out. "Um, Enzo?"

Enzo was sitting on the edge of the bed looking at an old book when he turned to you, and he swallowed hard at the sight of you in nothing but a thin piece of fabric. "Is everything alright?"

Feeling a bit more confident from his reaction, you took a step past the threshold of the bathroom. "I think I left--ah!" As soon as you took a step forward, a loose thread in your towel caught on the door hinge and caused you to trip...and completely lose your grip on your towel. "Shit!" Before you had time to react, your towel was on the ground and you were completely naked, still dripping wet, in front of Enzo. As soon as it hit the floor you scooped it right back up and tried to cover yourself. This is so not how you wanted tonight to go. "I am so sorry."

Your eyes were glued to the floor, too embarrassed to meet his eyes, until you heard him chuckle. "It's alright, ангел. It has been...a long time since I have seen a beautiful woman's body. I would never complain of such a thing."

You swallowed thickly at the insinuation behind his words, your heart rate increasing by the second. You bit your lip, smirking. "So, you think I'm beautiful, huh?"

Enzo's grin grew, and your stomach fluttered. "I do have eyes, no?"

You laughed, and Enzo loved the sound. The two of you remained in silence for a few moments as you stared at one another with a fire in your eyes, and this time the silence wasn't awkward. This time, the air was different, thick with tension. He rubbed his palms on his thighs, and the dark, heated look in his eyes had you feeling bolder. "So how long has it been since you've...seen a woman's body?"

Enzo stood up then, eyes trained on yours as he slowly began making his way towards you. Your stomach was somersaulting the closer he got. "Much, much too long."

He was right in front of you now, so tall, and with the tightness of his sleep shirt you could see he was all soft muscle. You craned your neck up to look at him, a low heat spreading between your legs at the look on his face. He looked...predatory.

"That--that's a shame," you said quietly, voice failing you at his closeness. "Maybe I could help you out with that."

"Yes," he mumbled, voice somehow several octaves lower than it had been mere moments ago. He lifted two fingers and ran them softly, slowly down your bare arm, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. "Yes, I think you can."

Enzo's eyes searched yours, waiting silently for your consent, and you nodded.

His large hands replaced your small ones that had been barely holding onto your towel. He let the flimsy cloth fall to the ground, and you were bare before him. "Боже мой, ты прекрасна," he mumbled, his eyes glued to your form. His hands went to your breasts first, palms squeezing as his thumbs swiped over your nipples. Your eyes fell shut at the sensation, a soft sigh escaping your lips. Truth be told it had been a long time for you, too, and you were practically vibrating with desire.

He leaned into you then, nose gently nudging yours. "Can I kiss you, ангел?"

"Please," you said, voice pleading.

His plush lips met yours instantly in a heated kiss that sent tingles all the way down to your toes. Your fingers buried themselves in his messy, damp hair as his hands gripped your waist tightly, pulling you flush against him. Both of you groaned into the kiss as your bare pussy rubbed perfectly against the tent in his pants, the friction exactly what you craved. You couldn't remember the last time you felt so needy; your body was on fire from his touch, like you couldn't get enough despite the fact that you'd barely just gotten started. You wanted him in as many ways as you could have him, and from the way he was gripping you, like he was afraid that you'd disappear if he were to let go, he must have felt the same.

"I need to taste you," he mumbled against your lips. He knelt down before you then, his hands sliding down your body as he went. His knees hit the ground, and he looked like a man about to go to worship. Your chest was damn near heaving with anticipation as his mouth hovered over your now-soaked pussy, but you didn't dare move. This was a man who needed to take his time, who needed to drink you like you were his life source. You were completely, willingly at his mercy.

He leaned into you and began pressing tender kisses all along your inner thighs and right next to where you needed him most. "Beautiful," he muttered, almost to himself. And then he dove in, his hot tongue licking a long stripe through your dripping folds. Your knees almost buckled at the sensation, and he gripped your ass and shoved you even closer to him.

"Enzo," you panted, fingers gripping his hair tightly.

His tongue was relentless, licking and lapping at your pussy like a man starved. At the frenzied rate he was going it wouldn't be long before you came, and all you knew was that you didn't want him to stop. Your hips bucked forward in a desperate attempt to somehow bring him closer, and that's when he shoved his long tongue inside you, curling upward.

"God, Enzo, yeah, just like that," you praised, the coil inside your belly suddenly winding tighter and tighter.

Enzo let out a long, approving groan as you began riding his face in a desperate chase towards your high, and as soon as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, you were brought over the edge into one of the best orgasms you'd ever had.

You chanted his name as you came down, hips quivering from your orgasm as his tongue worked you through it until you squirmed against him from oversensitivity. Your hands went to either side of his face and pulled him up to you before kissing him hard, your tongue sliding against his.

"You taste divine, ангел," he mumbled against your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing needy kisses to every inch of his skin there. "Need you to fuck me, Enzo."

He smirked, his hands sliding down your back to squeeze your ass and pull you against his thick cock straining against his pants. "Oh? You need me to fuck you, princess?"

You moaned, burying your face in his neck. "Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

You squealed in surprise as he bent down and gripped the back of your thighs, hoisting you up into his arms. His mouth was on yours again in an instant, walking you over to the bed and gently laying you down before joining you. He undressed before you quickly, not missing the way you eyed him hungrily and pressed your thighs together at the sight. He looked like a god.

You sat up on your knees and straddled him immediately, surprising him when you gripped his throbbing cock, now heavy in your hand. He let out a choked groan, eyes shutting tight and head falling back as you began stroking him. His red tip was leaking freely now, and you couldn't resist leaning down and licking him greedily.

"блять," he groaned as he watched you suck and lick at him, his hands gently moving your hair out of your face.

You wrapped your lips around his tip and sucked hard several times before taking him all the way, his cock hitting the back of your throat. Ignoring your gag reflex you continued the motion, mouth bobbing up and down on him and reveling in the delicious sounds he was making.

"блять, ангел," he grunted, his hands cupping your cheeks to gently pull you off of him. "If you keep doing that I will finish before we've started."

You grinned wickedly, pulling him in for a kiss before hovering your hips over him, your heart beating wildly in your chest with anticipation as you lined your entrance up with his cock. He watched you in wonder, his hands sliding all over your body, desperate to touch as much of you as he could. And then you sank down onto him, both of your mouths falling open at the blissful feeling of him stretching you perfectly. You moaned loudly as he bottomed out, and his hand was quick to cover your mouth.

He quirked a brow at you. "Don't want your 'fellow Americans' to hear what we're getting up to, do we?" You shook your head, eyes wide and innocent. "Will you be able to keep quiet, ангел?" You shook your head again, and he grinned. "I will just have to make you stay quiet, then."

He moved the hand covering your mouth and instead put two fingers inside your mouth, and you groaned around them as he bucked his hips up into you, his cock hitting you deep. "That's it, ангел," he cooed, continuing to fuck up into you as you sucked on his fingers. He set up an easy rhythm and you began meeting his thrusts, driving his cock deeper and deeper into you until you thought you were going to see stars. "Look at you," he grunted as he began picking up his pace, his free hand gripping your hip tightly. "You take my cock so well. Like it was made for you."

You whined around his fingers, matching his quick and deep thrusts as the familiar heat began to build inside you once more. He bit his lip as he watched you ride him, your tits bouncing with every thrust, drool building around his fingers. Your eyes practically rolled back into your head when he started driving faster and faster into you. You couldn't keep up with his pace anymore, completely at his mercy as he fucked you with abandon.

Enzo groaned low, his hips starting to stutter as he neared his release. "You want me to come inside you, ангел? Want me to fill you up so good you feel me for days?"

You nodded desperately, tears stinging your eyes as you got closer and closer to your release. The blissed out look on his face was almost your undoing, but you held on for him.

"Come, princess, I want to feel it," he groaned, his thumb pressing into your clit.

You cried out against his fingers, the dam inside you finally breaking as you shook around him. Drool fell from your chin as tears slid down your cheeks from the intensity of it, and that was Enzo's undoing. He grunted something in Russian that you didn't understand before spilling inside you, his chest heaving.

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth as you both caught your breath, and you collapsed onto his chest, his softening cock still inside you.

"You are incredible," he spoke softly, his fingers gently moving a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the action making your heart flutter.

You looked up at him and shared a sweet smile, kissing him gently. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

"I've wanted to do that since I first saw you."

Enzo laughed loudly, and the delightful sound had you chuckling with him. His smile, his laugh, everything about him was so wonderfully infectious. "All you had to do was ask, ангел," he teased.

You grinned, laying your head back down on his bare chest. A few moments of comfortable silence went by, and you couldn't hold back any more. You cleared your throat. "So, when we go to America...are you staying here?" Your fingers traced nonsensical patterns onto his chest as you awaited his answer, the rhythmic movements of his breathing calming you.

He sighed. "I...do not know. I believe there is nothing here for me anymore."

You looked up at him, and you saw the worry, the trauma, the sadness in his eyes. "Come with us then." He turned his head to look down at you, his eyes questioning, so you continued. "I mean...maybe there is something in America for you?" You looked hopeful, eyes pleading with him to understand what you were really saying so you didn't have to say it out loud.

His face softened, his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb rubbed against your skin affectionately.

"Yes, ангел, I think there is something in America for me."

Enzo was beginning to realize then that it didn't matter where he would go as long as you were there; you were his safe house.

***

ангел - angel

Боже мой, ты прекрасна - my god, you are beautiful

блять - fuck

блять, ангел - fuck, angel

#dmitri antonov #stranger things #dmitri antonov x reader #enzo x reader #enzo antonov #enzo antonov x reader #stranger things x reader #not spn

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jeonaachu · 3 months

Text

Campsite || MYG

Genre: Married couple, fluff, workplace romance

Pairing: Min Yoongi × Fem. OC

Word count: 1.6k+

Summary: Seol is angry at her workaholic husband because he forgot a cozy date night.

A/n: This is my first time writing on Tumblr and I'm still trying to make sense of things so I really don't know what to expect 😭

"Okay, everyone! It's time to partner up!” The loud voice of the department head, Ms.Song attracts the attention of all the employees sitting around the huge bonfire.

“Partner?” Someone questions from behind.

Ms. Song adjusts her glasses and looks at the person, clearing her throat. “We don’t have many tents so two people will have to share one.” Once the announcement was done, most of the people pair up with either their significant others or best friends and start pitching their tents, leaving Seol, Yoongi, Ms. Song and a few others still sitting around the fire.

Seol looks over at Yoongi and he looks over at her before she looks away.

Sigh.

“What’s with you two? Go pitch your tent.” Ms. Song comments, using her finger to gesture between both of them after witnessing all the cold gazes Seol had looked at Yoongi with this entire trip.

A huff leaves her mouth, arms folded across her chest. “I don’t want to share a tent with him,” She gives Yoongi a sharp glare causing the male to let out an inaudible, defeated breath.

On Ms. Song’s curious question about what had happened, Yoongi shakes his head, his shoulders drooping down as he does so. His eyes run back to her figure, just across him, only to find her still being sulky over what happened yesterday. “Seol arranged a date for us yesterday but I forgot and stayed till late at work and now, as you can see, she’s angry.” He summarizes the events that happened last night.

The lady clicks her tongue and facepalms herself, "Well, she's right in this then. I have told you many times to not stay till late at the company." She gets up from her seat to get herself some water. "This is why I didn't get married," her tone and words make others laugh while Yoongi just lowers his head.

He knows he's messed up.

After a few more minutes, when neither of them make any move, the department head clears her throat. "Okay, if you both don't want to share a tent then Yura pair up with Yoongi and go prepare your tent," her words make the said girl to spring up excitedly from her seat and Seol to spring up aggressively.

She's undoubtedly the possessive kind and definitely knows about the itty bitty crush Yura has over her husband.

"No, I'll share the tent with him," She says firmly before grabbing her husband's hand and taking him along with her.

There's complete silence for the next ten minutes, he didn't say anything and neither did she while both of them set up the tent together to spend the night. Yoongi, of course, didn't let her do much of the work.

"About yesterday-" His apologetic voice hits her eardrums and she instantly turns to face him.

She shakes her head slightly, "I don't want to talk about it."

With that she walks away from there. Her feet coming to a stop only when they reached the lake beside which the department team was camping.

She never liked arguing and not being on speaking terms with her husband but lately, he was barely giving her any time as if his work was his wife instead of her. He works in the same department as hers and yet managed to keep her out of his daily schedule these days.

It was frustrating.

Even more so when Seol had planned an indoor date just because he loves staying home rather than going out, cooked his favorite food even though she doesn't know how to cook very well and instead of getting appreciated for her efforts, she had to stay up till one in the morning until you got too tired and went to sleep.

This was a first.

In their six years of being together, he had never done that. She was ready to let it slide but at the same time she was enjoying the attention Yoongi was giving her to make her forgive his blunder.

Standing by the lake, she felt all her anger and sadness leave her body. The lake water glittering because of the bright moonlight falling on it really seemed to calm her mind. She takes in a deep breath, quite amazed by the refreshing fragrance of the trees and flowers around the entire campsite and allows herself to focus on the sound of the rustling leaves, crackling bonfire and several nocturnal insects hiding in the bushes.

A cold gust of wind makes her shiver slightly. As the night grew more, the temperature seemed to be getting lower too. Seol was busy covering her bare arms with her palms when a bowl of ramen came into view, right in front of her. Her gaze follows the hand that was holding it and comes to a pause only when she locks eyes with her husband.

"I sneaked in a couple of these in my bag," Bribing her with food has always been an efficient strategy for Yoongi ever since they both started seeing each other, the past six years to be exact.

She looks at the delicious noodles that were inviting her to devour them and then back at Yoongi who wanted her to devour them. In the fight between her ego and hunger, hunger won and she accepts the ramen he had prepared.

His strategy definitely worked every time.

It wasn't difficult for her to notice the little smile dancing on his soft lips. "Don't think you're forgiven," She fills her mouth with the delicious noodles while sitting on the mat Yoongi had laid by the lake.

Yoongi takes a seat beside his wife and watches as she takes another mouthful bite. "I'm really sorry about yesterday. I really didn't want to forget about it but it just slipped out of my mind," his words are followed by a weary sigh indicating he didn't want this matter to stretch more.

"Honestly, I'm not upset because you forgot about the date, I'm angry because I planned a surprise for you." Her lips form a pout.

He furrows his brows, "A surprise? What surprise?"

"Guess it yourself." With that, she focuses on her noodles and he focuses on thinking about whatever surprise Seol might have prepared for him.

A couple minutes passed without any words from Yoongi. If it wasn't for him biting his nails, deep in thought, she'd have thought he's asleep.

"You bought new lingerie?" She chokes on her noodles when these words leave his mouth.

An expression that screamed "done" alongwith a scowl his way and he understood he was wrong. "Okay, it's not that." There's a small pause before another guess. "You bought couple accessories?"

"No, but I actually want to."

"A new car?"

"No."

"A guitar?"

"You already have many."

"Couple hoodies?"

"Nooooo."

"House?"

"Come on, Yoongi. Don't be ridiculous." Seol sighs, a little pissed at her husband's cluelessness.

Another stretch of silence follows her words, coming to an end only when Yoongi speaks again.

"You got a new tattoo?"

She shakes her head as a 'no'. If she was being honest, she didn't even want to respond now.

"You got promoted?"

Another no.

"You're pregnant?"

"Yes."

Yoongi nods, not giving much attention to what he asked and what she replied. "So, you're pregnant." He hums before stopping and looking at her with wide eyes, his brain finally processing what just happened. "Wait- You're pregnant?? Like, for real??"

She laughs at his big eyes and slightly parted lips, "No, I'm definitely pranking you." Her reply was sarcastic but she was quick to notice his unamazed expression at her reply. "Okay, yes. I'm pregnant."

It felt like he just froze for a minute.

No movements,

No sounds,

He didn't even blink his eyes.

"So I'm going to be a dad?" A smile finally stretches across his face, followed by a couple happy tears which she wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the moonlight.

Seol nods her head without wasting a second. "Yes, you are. I got to know about it yesterday too." She blinks her eyes a couple times to avoid tearing up.

It was such a big news, a good news, that it overwhelmed the both of them.

Out of nowhere, Yoongi hesitantly wraps his arms around her and puts his forehead on her shoulder. It's been six years of them being together but he still was shy to initiate skinship. "I'm really so sorry for yesterday. I know I have said this multiple times since then but I ruined such a big day for you, for us. I'm so stupid." He lets out in a low voice, still hugging her.

She smiles slightly to herself, putting her own arms around him. "It's fine, it's fine. You realized your mistake, that's more than enough." She pats his back and places a soft kiss on his head.

The couple stays like that for a couple minutes, not saying anything, just being there in each other's embrace, Yoongi still having his head on her shoulder.

"Thank you for this surprise, really." He kisses her shoulder before lifting his head to meet her eyes.

Seol chuckles softly at his statement. "Well, half the credit goes to you, too." She leans forward, maintaining eye contact with him.

Her husband snickers,"Oh yes, how can I forget the hard work!" His words being followed by a smirk.

A groan leaves her mouth, shivers of cringe flowing across her body as she punches the male on his chest for his cheeky statement. "YOONGI!" She hides her face behind her palms while he laughs heartily at his wife's flustered state.

All while the lake, stars, the moon and their colleagues witness the moment, without them both knowing.

"I told you these two won't go a day without talking." A series of silent laughs follows Ms. Song’s statement while everyone makes their way back to their tents, leaving Seol and Yoongi to enjoy their time alone.

#min yoongi #yoongi #agust d #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts suga #suga #bts army #bts scenarios #fluff #fanfic #bts

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dotspoetrycorner · 11 months

Note

hey! could you write something where the reader goes to Cynthia’s house after the party at frosty palace in 1x08 and comforts her/ confesses🫶

Cynthia x reader 1x8 request:

So that’s it I guess; the Pink Ladies are over. After the impromptu fall ball replacement at the Frosty Palace Buddy and Richie got into a fight, ending up with them in jail. Olivia was understandably upset, blaming Jane for the fight. Everyone broke off, first Olivia, then Cynthia, then Jane, then me, leaving Nancy behind to clean up the mess, literally. But the Pink Ladies have been the best thing to happen to me in a long time, it couldn’t just be over.

The normal response would be to do sad, but I just felt numb, like I couldn’t really process what just happened. I walked out of the frosty palace and just stared walking. I didn’t know where I was going, I just knew I didn’t want to go home. The original plan was for all of us to spend the night at Jane’s after the dance and I couldn’t explain to my parents why I was home, they’d ask too many questions. I just walked.

Normally, walking clears my head but right now its just making me think of everything more. The rain had started to calm down but it was still at a depressing drizzle. I started to recognize my surroundings. Cynthia’s neighborhood. I needed to be with her. Even if it was just us sitting on opposite sides of the couch starring at a wall. I needed to be with her. I took my heels oof and started running as fast as I could toward Cynthia’s house. In the next few minutes I was knocking on her door.

After a couple seconds, she answered. She was still in her dress from the dance, but also wearing one of her dad’s jackets, her hair a mess. She looked like she had been crying. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Cynthia cry. We looked at each other for a moment, not sure what to do. Suddenly, Cynthia engulfed me in a hug. My body stiffened and I got a weird feeling in my stomach. Just as quickly as it started, she let go. We stared at each other for a split second before Cynthia broke eye contact and quickly sat on her couch. I hesitantly followed her, sitting down right beside her.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I didn’t know what to say. Should we talk about what happened? Or is that the last thing we should talk about? Do we need to process everything? Or do we just need a distraction? Finally I spoke.

“You know, with that jacket that outfit is a lot more you.” She just looked at me; I said the wrong thing. After a while she replied, “what’s wrong with me?” “What? There is nothing wrong with you.” I tried to reassure her. “There is! I couldn’t be apart of the t-birds, I don’t fit in with other girls, I’ve fallen in love with someone I really shouldn’t have, and we can’t even keep the pink ladies together!” Wait, what was that third one? She likes someone. I should have figured since she’s the one who asked shy guy to the fall ball.

Shit. This is about her not me. I'll deal with my feelings later. “No one ever feels like they fit in. Olivia will come around and forgive Jane. And in the mean time, I’m still here.” She looked at me, she’d started to cry again. Her eyes get so blue when she cries. Friends. We’re friends. She likes shy guy. I snapped out of in and continued, “and that other thing, shy guy adores you.” She sat up straight and looked confused “what? Shy- I don’t like shy guy.” Oh. “I just figured because you asked him to the dance and you’re friends and that always makes things more complicated.” Cynthia seemed to get really uncomfortable and quickly mumbled “yep sure does” before standing up and walking to the kitchen.

I sat there for a few minutes, waiting for her to come back, but she didn’t. I got up to go check on her, she was just standing at the counter, looking down. “hey are you okay?” She jumped then froze for a second before saying, “I’m fine. It’s just getting late. And it’s been a long night.” I didn’t want to push her to talk about something she didn’t want to, but I have to let her know I’m here for her. “Are you sure? Because you seemed at least sort of ok before-“ “I don’t wanna talk about it, ok?!” She snapped at me. She had never even so much as raised her voice at me before. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell,” she apologized, “it’s just complicated.” I stood next to her and mirrored her stance by the counter, my hand briefly brushing hers as I put it on the countertop. I went over there to say another variation of “you’re not alone” or “it’ll be ok” but once I started speaking its like I didn’t have control over my words anymore, I just had to tell her everything.

“I get it.” I started, “its like if you made a friend and they became your favorite person in the entire world, and they were your safe space, and even on your worst days they only have to make one joke to turn it all around, and they’re so different from you but somehow that’s why you’re perfect friends, and one day you realized you don’t want them to be just your friend, but its scary and you can’t tell them because-“ Cynthia stopped me, walking away saying “oh please, like anyone would ever reject you. Someone will talk to you for two minutes and fall in love with you. That’s not complicated, you just tell him and you’re fine.”

Alright. Here it goes: “Cynthia. It’s you.” She turned around to look at me, expressionless. That was the most terrifying part, I had no idea what she was thinking. She then walked up to me and kissed me. It was better than anything I could have possibly thought of. After a couple seconds we parted and just looked at each other, smiling. In true Cynthia fashion she said “I was talking about you. Earlier when I said-“ “yeah, I got that” I said laughing. She couldn’t just say “I like you too”? Gosh. I really, really like her.

The rest of the night we just sat on the couch, watching tv, just being together. Oddly enough, our dynamic didn’t change at all, just now she had her arm around me and we could kiss each other. I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, or in the coming weeks, but I was perfectly happy being right here, right now.

#cynthia zdunowski #grease #rise of the pink ladies #cynthia zdunowski x reader

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ab--n · 5 months

Text

Chapter 1: Shifting and Moping for Lost Hope part 1

After having less than the recommended number of hours of sleep, I went to tell DK my conversation with Chocomonio. Him obviously being concerned.

“So what you’re saying is that this ‘Chocomonio’ person told you that two rooms have vents that connect to each other. I supposed that makes sense. Dero and Celeernyx did mention a way of transportation…”

“Okay I’m getting tired DK, Who are these people?”

“Verin, calm down. They're also Participants.”

“Ugh, Yeah sorry. I just feel like absolute trash.”

So one day until the poison kicks in and kills everybody but us four…. Wait.. didn’t Monodoo say that two rooms will be unaffected?

“DK… are you aware of how many rooms there are?”

“At least four.”

“Two rooms will be spared of poison.”

“And we were put in groups of four… 16 in total”

As silence falls between me and DK. we’ve come to a horrible realization.

What if Monodoo makes us continue killing each other?

“HEY!!! Archie found something. Looks like a key! Come here, Dolly and Archie will be waiting!!” Dolly yelled, thank god she was here. Morale would have dropped much quicker if she wasn't.

“We’re coming!!... Come on DK”

“... I’ll be following.”

Without DK I ran to where Archie and Dolly were. As I looked over them I saw a red key. It looks off though, Like it was taken straight out of a children's book.

“I found it near the monitor, It appeared overnight.”

“Dolly can see that. It wasn't here yesterday.”

Maybe Monodoo put it there? But how can he get in here? I have too many questions and no answers.

“Let's use the key already! Dolly wants out of here!”

“Dolly, please wait! For all we know it could be a trap!” Archie pleaded.

“Well we don't know if we dont try!!”

“Fine… let's go to the door first.”

Archie,Dolly and Me went to the door locking us here. It really doesn't make sense, I mean a key looking like it was stolen from a cartoon can open an attack proof metal door?-

*CREAK*

“….What?! How did it open?” I yelled.

“Look, Verin I don’t know either! The key looked really fake so I thought it was a trap!” Archie tried to explain

“Yay, The door opened! Wait for Dolly, Dolly will get Sir Dragon Knight!”

.....

So… we are out?

.....

“DOTTY, I SWEAR TO NOVA, OR VOID OR WHOEVER, JUST STOP BOTHERING BLOSSOM DEE!!”

I turned my head as I saw 12? Maybe 10 more people come out of metal doors like ours, they must be the other participants.

“Okay! Dolly is back with DK! Hmm? Who are they?”

Suddenly DK pops out behind her.

“Those are the other participants Dolly, now if you will excuse me, I need to talk to somebody.”

"DK... Are you ok?" I questioned

"Yes, Now please leave me alone..."

I don’t know for sure… but DK is acting weird, I should leave him alone for now though. Maybe one of those guys that he mentioned wanted to talk?

Can I talk to Chocomoinio? I can see what it looks like now.

“Dolly, Archie. I also got places to be- Dolly, where’s Archie?”

“Archie went to Fylass, Dolly also wants to talk to someone soooo… Buh bye Verin!!”

And Dolly ran off, I wonder who does she want to talk to. But now’s not the time, I got to find Chocomonio!

As I traversed through the small crowd, then I heard a shout..

“Yo Veri! Where are you?” A familiar voice

“Choco? Is that you?”

“Yep, and I’m right behind ya!”

Excited, I turned around quickly to see… a Yellow cat-like lady in a royal looking kimono, Not really what I expected…

“HI!!!!!!..Hmm? Oh ya fell for my facade? Wait let me turn back.”

Suddenly a blackish goo covered the lady and transformed into a small puffball with pink hair and lots of eyes…that are also pink.

“Here I am in all my glory! Sooo.. how’s it been going?”

“Not the best. I’m also confused… I mean did everyone get those weird keys?”

“Yeah, Techno found ours when she was on night watch. I have no idea where she is. I think she also switched ‘bodies’ with Lyx”

Man, there are so many names to keep track of. And why did Choco do air quotes when referring to those two guys switching bodies?

“Hey! while the more mature guys find out whatever is happening, wanna explore and talk to the others?”

“What about you Choco?”

“I’ma annoy Blossom with Dotty. Those two seem to hate each other, Weeeellll maybe only Blossom hates Dotty. Welp, I’ll be taking my leave now. See you later Verin.”

Okay, I’m a bit far behind the social game. I should introduce myself to the rest of the group-

“Hey! Rotten orange peel!” A girl a bit shorter than me ran up to me out of breath. She looks like Knuckle Joe. I wonder what he's doing right now.

“Have you seen a blind purple bat-like girl with a broken leg?” She seems desperate…

“Jill, please don't refer to the girl as ‘Rotten orange peel’!”

“I Don’t Give A Shit, Vibrato! I’m trying to find Bliees!”

I.. should leave these two to argue, I’ll go find others to introduce myself to.

______________________________________________________________

Oof, sorry if this seems rushed. its been a stressful two months. part two will be coming soon I hope.

@monsterhatdoodles

@moon-mage

@loaflovesdoodling

@george228732

@ceoofmetagala

@cauliarty

@smaaenart

@ilikesillythingswooo

I think thats everyone, if I didnt tag you and your character is in this part then please dm me!

#kirby danganronpa #danganronpa: friends and foes with stars above #kirby au #n writes shit #kirby ocs that dont belong to me

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archiveikemen · 11 months

Text

Liam Evans Main Story: Chapter 21 (Blind Love)

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

Liam: I don't ever want to disappear before your eyes again.

There was a passionate look in his rose coloured eyes as he gazed at me, and I was so mesmerised that I forgot how to breathe.

We’ve exchanged glances like this many times, but somehow that felt like it was the first time.

The slight change made my heart go crazy.

It made me want to embrace the change.

Liam: Hey, Kate.

Liam: I couldn’t take your hand back then. However—

Liam: However…

While his face contorted as he tried to force out the words that were caught in his throat, I shook my head.

Kate: You don’t have to force yourself to say something. You can tell me when you're ready to.

Liam: … Okay.

Liam: Thanks… Kate.

Kate: You’re welcome?

Liam: Ahaha, why did that sound like a question?

Kate: Fufu, I wonder.

When we looked at each other and burst into laughter, I realised that it had been a while since we last laughed together.

The tiny change that might seem insignificant to others was so precious to me that it caused a yearning feeling in my heart.

…

The next day, Liam and I headed for The Scala.

It was to put into action the plan William proposed, and—

As usual, all the troupe members were present at The Scala, practising their vocalisations and rehearsing for the play.

Tom’s eyes met Liam’s while he was mixing around with the troupe members and earnestly guiding them.

Tom: … Li… Liam.

Liam: … Tom.

Liam: … Tom… I… you...

Before Liam could explain himself, Tom ran up to him and threw his arms around him.

Tom: You don’t have to say anything. … You’re here now, and that’s all that matters to me.

(Tom must have so many questions he wants to ask Liam, but his happiness from seeing him has surpassed them.)

Liam: … I’m sorry. And, thank you.

Troupe Member: Uwa, Tom and Liam are flirting with each other again!

Troupe Member 2: Are you okay with that, Kate? He’s being unfaithful, he’s a cheater!

We smiled at each other as the troupe members watched and teased us.

Liam: Anyway, Tom, I have something to discuss with you— I mean, with everyone here at The Scala.

Tom: Judging from the look on your face, it must be something as important as a love confession.

Tom: OK, I’ll have everyone gather.

When Tom called out to them, everyone gathered around Liam and I.

(Everyone at The Scala should never know about me being a fairytale writer and the existence of Crown.)

Anyone who found out about that secret would have only one possible fate awaiting them — being silenced.

When I thought about it, I knew that the plan would be anything but calm, and I could get a sense of the lengths William would go to.

It seemed that Liam was thinking the same thing, and he spoke with an even more serious look on his face.

Liam: Long story short — there is a message I want to send to all of England, through the use of this play.

Liam briefly explained that a dangerous organisation in England by the name of “Golden Butterfly” that had once been annihilated was showing signs of reviving its activities.

Due to the identity of the mastermind behind its revival being unknown, the plan was to make use of theatre to convey the message “stop the revival”.

(It might not sound very convincing because he left out some pieces of information to avoid putting everyone at risk.)

Liam: I can’t reveal the reason why I want to destroy that organisation. … I’m sorry.

Liam: But I know for sure that if we leave them as they are, more people will be hurt.

Liam: Therefore, I hope that all of you will agree to help me…

Kate: … I, too, would like to ask the same of everyone.

Tom: …

Tom: Lift your heads, Kate and Liam. The answer to your request for help is YES.

Kate • Liam: …!

Tom: What does the art of stage acting exist for? It exists for the people.

Tom: We believe that theatre has the miraculous ability to move the hearts of people. Is that right, all of you?

The eyes of the troupe members around us were filled with passion, hope, and trust.

Tom: It’s time for The Scala to come together and destroy that wicked organisation…!

Entire Troupe: Woooo…!

Troupe Member 1: Don’t we look like heroes standing up for justice?

Troupe Member 2: Yes, yes. I’m getting all pumped up!

Liam: Oh—... uhm.

It was rather funny to see Liam being the only one standing there awkwardly amidst everyone being excited and calling the plan “justice”.

Tom: Moreover…

Tom: This is the first time you’ve ever asked us for a favour. Therefore, we’ll do everything possible to help you!

Liam: … —anks.

Liam’s soft “thanks” reached my ears as I stood next to him.

Bianca: Men! It’s nice to get excited, but we should at least decide on the play first!

Bianca: Right, Kate?

Kate: Fufu, you’re right.

Tom: I’ll write a script that will include the existence of “Golden Butterfly” in the story and will make the crowd go wild.

Tom: Word won’t spread all over England if the story is boring, right?

Liam: In that case, how about “The Hunchback of Notre Dame”?

I recalled the time Tom had previously explained to us what he wanted The Scala to play.

"The story is set in 15th Century Paris. At the Notre Dame Cathedral, there was a man named Quasimodo.

Quasimodo spent his days alone at the top of the tall tower ringing the bells, never knowing what the outside world was like.

One day, he met a beautiful dancer named Esmeralda and fell in love with her."

Liam: I’ve read the original, and I thought “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” was a story about battles.

Liam: Battles against fate and things that hurt oneself. … I don’t know how to phrase this better, but I just think that this story is perfect for our current situation.

(Everything Liam just said are truths. They’re all precious things that I treasure.)

(However, Liam’s tone… it sounds different from before.)

He was definitely saying those things out of his own will, and it moved the hearts of everyone present and mine as well.

The gentle warmth melted the ice.

Everyone present nodded in agreement.

Tom: Then it’s decided, The Scala’s next production will be “The Hunchback of Notre Dame”. So, Liam—

Tom: I still want you to play the role of Quasimodo, the main character. Will you accept the role?

Liam: …

Liam: What do you think, Kate?

There was a hint of fear in those eyes in front of me, but the old dangerous tendency to invalidate one's own will in order to satisfy others was no longer there.

Kate: What do YOU want to do, Liam?

Liam: I…

Liam: What do /I/ want to do, huh?

Fearful of taking the first step, Liam’s lips trembled.

Liam: I want to play the role of Quasimodo. I’ll do my very best, so please let me do it.

Tom: … Of course.

Tom: Now that it’s been decided, I shall make the necessary changes to the script! There’s the stage setting to take care of as well. Things will get very busy from now on.

Liam: Ahaha, that’s right.

…

We worked days and nights to prepare for the performance of “The Hunchback of Notre Dame”.

During that period of time, we received some unexpected help—

Troupe Member: Kate, Liam, over here!

(Huh…?)

The members of the theatrical troupe were holding more lavish packed lunches than their arms could carry.

Troupe Member: It was delivered to us without prior notice, but the sender didn’t leave a name. We only have this message card.

Liam: …?

“To my beloved Liam and Kate.

I made these myself, so please enjoy them with everyone there.

Wishing you all the best for your performance.”

Kate • Liam: … It’s Victor.

Troupe Member: I was about to throw them away because they could be a bad prank, but they looked too delicious…

Liam: Pfft, ahaha. A prank?

Liam: This is from a very passionate fan of mine and Kate’s. All of you can be rest assured and eat up.

< timeskip >

Troupe Member: I need to put this curtain up, but I can’t reach that height. Does anyone have a ladder—

Ellis: … You want to put this up? Alright, let me help you.

Troupe Member: Huh…?

Ellis unexpectedly dropped by the theatre to help out and was able to get much of the work done easily with his amazing agility.

Bianca: Liam. You sure have a few rather… unusual friends.

Liam: Mm, that’s true.

Ellis: Kate, Liam, is there anything else that needs to be done?

Kate: Oh, in that case—

(... Everyone is doing what they can to help out.)

Every time, Liam would smile, a little bewildered, but he was genuinely happy.

He savoured every subtle act of kindness like each one of them was a miracle.

(... I’ve been by Liam’s side for quite a while, but this is the first time I’m seeing this side of him.)

I didn’t want to miss out on any changes that could possibly be happening in Liam’s heart.

My gaze was naturally drawn to him, like a butterfly attracted to a flower.

When we were almost done with the preparations for the play, an unexpected “guest” came to the theatre for Liam.

Liam: … Harry.

Kate: Huh?

We went up to the second floor of the theatre and saw Harrison leaning against a wall, staring at the stage.

Harrison: Haha, you’re too quick to notice. I intended to keep watching for a little more before calling out to you.

Harrison: Looks like all of you have been working and rehearsing hard. Good work.

Kate: By any chance, are you here to help?

Harrison: No way, I’m not such a kind person.

Harrison: Now, I did something else instead.

He looked at us as we cocked our heads in puzzlement, and narrowed his mint coloured eyes that could see through lies.

Harrison: There’s a limit to the amount of people you can convey your message to, if you rely solely on your performance.

Harrison: That means that your message might not reach the initiator of the revival of “Golden Butterfly”, who could be somewhere else in England.

(Um, so that means—)

Kate: In order to spread this one drop of poison throughout England, we need to make it a popular topic for conversation…?

Harrison: Yeah, exactly.

Harrison pulled a letter out of his pocket and waved it at us.

Kate: An invitation to the play?

Harrison: I made a request to an acquaintance in the publication industry to invite journalists from newspaper publishers and magazines to the play.

Harrison: If they enjoy the play, they’ll publish huge articles about it.

Harrison: Ah, and of course this invitation is real. I spoke to Tom Crawford, and he gave me this seat.

Liam: Could it be that…

Liam: You’ve been working behind the scenes?

Harrison: This is one of my missions. All I did was get my job done.

Harrison: If the performance is of poor quality, our plan will be a failure. Do your best.

Liam: … Thanks, Harry.

Harrison: Yeah. Oh, and one more thing.

Harrison: Your father, Max Evans, was given an invitation too.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil main story #liam main story #niki translates

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sleepyoo · 1 year

Text

I trusted you.

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x F Reader

Category: Angst (maybe fluff later)

Summary: Reader is in a relationship with Neteyam and Finds out from others he is promised to someone.

(English isn’t my first language sorry for the errors!)

Getting used to the family from the Metkayina Clan that were visiting for whatever reason wouldn’t be too hard after all, they showed the Sully's kindness in Awa'atlu it was time to return the favor.

Honestly, it’s a normal occurrence for them to visit once a year for war-related things, but this year is different since the Sully family had returned from Awa'atlu A girl named Tsireya and her family have decided to come along with the Sully's and stay for a while.

Whatever, while that was it sure, had something to do with Lo’ak.

You had gotten closer with the family in the past couple of weeks but never mind that, you were now worried about Neteyam and how he has been avoiding you.

Watching the streaming river filled with fish, you sat comfortably legs crossed on a rock far away from the scenic view. You felt a slight tug on your hair.

"Be careful Tuk, not too tight." You told the small girl who was too focused on playing with your hair to acknowledge what you said.

The ripples the river made were peaceful.

"You've been staring off into space all morning and there's something on your mind," Kiri spoke as she dropped down next to you with her arms wrapped around her knees with you acknowledging her presence.

"I'm sorry I guess it's just my head is in a million different directions at once it just-"

Suddenly being cut off by sounds of gossip presumably from villagers.

Now, you sure weren't the type to feed into or follow gossip but it must've been important if everyone is causing such a scene.

You then lifted Tuk and placed her on your hip following the conversations of the villagers

"What are they talking about?" Kiri asked standing up quickly, trailing behind you. "Y/n!"

Turning around you saw Lo'ak and Aonung facing each other. Both were in conversation while they sharpened their weapons.

Tuk unattached herself from your hip.

Your brow furrowed as you walked toward the larger figures, Lo'ak stepped back quickly followed by Aonung.

"What’s going on?" You asked moving between them with Kiri close behind.

"..." They glanced at each other then back at you.

"We heard what happened yesterday." Said Lo'ak before Aonung replied.

"Everyone was wondering why Neteyam did not return home last night like he usually does."

Sighing slightly you twisted your braids nervously with your fingers.

"What do you mean..” You questioned leaning against the large tree they were by.

Turning around to look at Kiri and then back to Aonung in silence.

You’ve noticed Neteyam has been distant with you these past days but you assumed it was because of all of the pressure with being future olo'eyktan right around the corner..

right?

“You mean you don’t know about Neteyam being promised?” Lo’ak looked at you confused breaking the silence.

Aonung then elbowed him in the rib urging him to shut up.

The world went silent for a moment.

Eywa, you could’ve sworn you felt your soul leave your body.

“Rumors are going around the area. He has been promised to someone else. A girl from a different clan.” He explained looking away as if embarrassed or maybe concerned for you. “But I thought-“

Suddenly everyone’s conversations were heard clearly.

They were talking about Neteyam.

“Your” Neteyam

The man enters the chaos without knowing it.

He looked at you with those loving eyes those eyes that screamed I love you in so many different ways.

As the tall figure walked over to you, your body grew warm with embarrassment and betrayal.

No, you wouldn’t believe this.

This probably has to be some sick joke.'

You studied his face looking for any concern, any signs, an answer for why he's been acting the way he has.

“Ma yawne, please tell me my ears deceive me.” You looked into his confused eyes as you made your way closer to him.

Reaching for his hands that fit perfectly in yours, already engulfing you in his warmth just by the touch of his hands caressing them.

The forest felt quiet.

Your forest boy hesitated, then it looked like a wave of realization hit him.

You felt realization hit him.

“Ma teyam, is this true?” Your voice broke searching for an answer in his eyes.

He felt your hands trembling against his and could’ve sworn his heart would shatter right here.

“Tiyawn, I was going to tell you eve-“ He searched for the right words to say as you dropped his hands.

Leaving his hands cold.

Backing away from him like he couldn’t be trusted.

Everyone was now basking in this newfound drama.

“I trusted you?..” you questioned yourself looking at the grass that littered the forest with its bioluminescence.

“Trust me please.” The future Olo'eyktan pleaded.

“I TRUSTED YOU.” You jabbed your finger at the male, livid.

If a crowd wasn’t already there it was definitely forming

Neytiri, Jake, Tonowari, and Ronal have arrived due to a villager informing them, Tsireya and Spider following after eavesdropping.

Everyone waited to see what Neytiri had to say but when it came down to it she observed still shocked to see her eldest son and his closest "friend" fighting.

“You promised yourself to me, as did I.” Your ears flattened.

This earned a few gasps.

“Have I meant nothing to you Neteyam?” You continued as his eyebrows furrowed he looked as if you were the one who betrayed him.

“Don't say that Y/N, I love you, I only love you Y/N please.”

You hissed at his words

“IF YOU LOVED ME THEN WHY?” you questioned.

“I HAD TO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!”

It grew into an uncomfortable silence.

All you felt now was anger and embarrassment with your chest rising and falling.

You pushed him back wanting to make him feel the way you were hurting.

"YOU DID THIS TO ME."

"YOU'RE DOING THIS BECAUSE YOU LOVE ME HUH?"

Repeatedly pushing the man you love with force back, over and over again while he stood defeated taking them all.

Eventually, there was more anger and humiliation within you as he stood looking at you with hurt and regret, silently crying out in defeat for your anger.

Your heart broken and you wanted to cry.

He wanted to explain everything to you but instead, he watched as you screamed.

Kiri and Tsireya rushed to your side holding you back from hurting the man anymore and attempting to stop you from embarrassing yourself furthermore.

"You ruined everything, Neteyam." You sobbed dejected voice strained from yelling.

Aonung then held Neteyam back from being hurt, while Neteyam continuously got closer expecting you to engulf him in your warmth like you always do.

If you didn't want him anymore then Eywa please keep pushing him, hurting him, whatever it will take for you to want anything to do with him, if it means you would look at him again with those eyes one last time.

“I am the fool to have made a mistake in loving you Neteyam.” You felt tears run down your cheeks.

Neteyam felt himself break

"You told me it was enough for us to trust each other."

“Y/n, please”

“You lied to me and left me like this, yet you still love me?”

“H-How did everyone know about this except me?”

“Huh? After I gave myself to you Neteyam.” Finally defeated you choked on your sobs now feeling the hundreds of eyes on you.

“Nga tsun kehe txukxefu mong” (You can not have trust )

You freed yourself from your friend's grip and exited the crowded area your sobs still distinct.

Now it was his turn to cry

He felt hot tears running down his cheek as he pushed aonung off of him

Out of the now-still silence Jake paces through but Neytiri cuts him off.

claiming her rights as the leader intimidatingly standing taller than anyone.

"Ma Tirol, you mated with this girl?" Her tone full of suspicion questioning when this took place and why it was never brought up.

Neteyam’s eyes never left where you stood.

"Yes, we mated before Eywa."

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thevikingwoman · 11 months

Text

I had some post 3.4 thoughts and wanted to put them out there

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV | Words: 691 | Read on Ao3

Meryta Khatin & Urianger Augurelt | post 3.4 Rating: G. Friendship, worrying for friends, dealing with everything

Wrong

Meryta sits on a box in the Rising Stones, her hands and her tail curled around her legs. It’s late, but she’s not quite ready to turn in. The last few days have been a whirlwind, too many things happening, too many questions and too few answers. She doesn’t want to be alone, but she’s not sure what to talk about either or with whom, so she’s stuck sitting with her thoughts in silence.

Urianger sits at the table next to the boxes, deep in his own thoughts. He said he’d return to the Waking Sands, but perhaps he’s not ready to be alone either. Her eyes wanders across the room. Most people have left, getting ready for their travels tomorrow. Papalymo is talking with – or at – Yda, though they both seem to be leaving. Meryta bites her lips.

“Meryta,” Urianger says, interrupting her thoughts, “prithee, art thou bothered?”

“I’m worried about Yda.”

Her happiness at seeing her friend again has faded, her gut telling her something is wrong. Yda almost sounded like her usual upbeat self, but only almost. She didn’t know the resistance meant that much to her, and she wonders what it means.

“Mayhaps thou should take thy inquiry to Yda herself.”

She shakes her head.

“I tried, but she didn’t say much.” Something changed in Yda, or maybe she herself changed and can no longer tell. Perhaps it’s just her own worries running ahead of her – after not knowing for so long that Yda – and Papalymo — was alive. Everyone has changed, she supposes.

“We can but wait and see what the fates bring us thenceforth.”

“Even if you did know, would you tell?”

Urianger tenses, his mouth drawn briefly, and then it’s gone.

“Sorry, that was unjust of me. I’m just very worried about my friend. I spend a long time worried about where she was and if she even was alive and now – now I worry more.”

“I see.” Urianger pauses, and looks down, fiddling with his ringbands. “Worrying about friends speaketh well of thy.”

Despite Alphinaud’s and everyone’s optimism at the meeting prior, she feels unsettled and she regrets her words. Thancred is nowhere to be found, even after his supportive words. Something has changed in him too. She can’t help him, not now but perhaps –

“Urianger. I spoke too rashly and – are you okay?”

“Your words were not without their reason. ‘Tis I who should inquire you the same, Meryta.”

She shrugs, then shakes her head. She doesn’t blame him for what he did. It seems to her he sees paths and possibilities others might not. She’d have asked someone if she’d had such a conundrum, but she’d have asked him. Or Alphinaud, perhaps, but she’s not sure he would have picked something sensible to do.

“It’s not the first time I’ve been sent to fight something, or someone.” She knows it’s not exactly what bothers him, or the scope of his unsanctioned bargain, but it’s part of it, and it’s the part she alone can forgive.

Urianger looks up, his gaze hidden behind those goggles of his.

“We oft have besieged thee to take arms against Primals and all manner of threat, but ne’er under deceptions shadow.”

“It would not have worked another way.” She curls her legs up under her. “Your expertise is welcome, Urianger. Don’t hide away completely in the Waking Sands, my friend.”

She doesn’t quite know if they’re friends, but it feels right to say it. They’re not not friends, and too many people, friends and almost friends, have died already. Urianger looked ready to bolt and never look back, and she knows that’s all wrong.

“I thank thee. My work taketh me thither, but I will not hide.”

She smiles, and she wishes she could see his eyes – she does not understand why he hides them beneath those goggles, his face inscrutable. Perhaps that’s the point. She’ll not soon forget those golden eyes of his, and some part of her wants to see them again, close and not across the battlefield.

“I will come visit, then.” She reaches out and pats his arm gently.

“That would please me.”

#ffxiv #ffxiv fanfic #wol & urianger friendship #I needed to process both the whole deception #and how meryta feels about Yda #trying to write urianger but I’m just going to go for it #i tried #just so many things going on for mery here #writing about meryta #Viking writes #published 6/8/2023 #I guess this could be pre relationship if you squint #let see if that goes anywhere #Uri being dramatic awoke something in me I guess BYE

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ilovebeingmatchedup · 5 months

Text

PTT!Chuck E. Cheese x Reader Headcanons: Meeting and Confession

Chuck is red reader is pink.

- entering the Pizza Time Theatre, you slowly enter the boss’ office. a thick cloud of cig smoke attacks your face.

- you hack your lungs out but you enter the office, encountering with the hottest rat known to man: Charles Entertainment Cheese.

-the moment you laid your eyes on him, you realized that you fell head over heels with the greasy ass demon

-blush creeping in, you go along the basic interview questions. Your track record isn’t the best, but after a few moment of silence, the rat speaks up:

‘well, Y/N, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Your options here are very… limited.’

-a huff of smoke attacked your face, resulting in violently coughing.

‘so, like, what’s the offer?’

-Anxiety took over your body.

‘Listen, I don’t normally do this with my upcoming employees, but I’ll make an exception for you. You’re an interesting person.’

-face fully red, you perk up. He comes closer to you, finger on your chin; his voice drenched in affection:

‘I really, REALLY like yous Y/N’

-Ultimately, that’s how your interactions with the boss started.

-As your days in the Pizza Time Theatre continued, your bond with the rat grew stronger. You got along fairly well with the rest of the crew.

-As the tech of the show, you took care of the crew, but Chuck always asked you to take care of him alone. You never knew why.

-behind the scenes, he and you jokingly insulted each other, sometimes arguing like a married couple in terms of anything small.

-you got free pizza and tokens, but most importantly Chuck was able to see you every day! It was the best part of the job. The pay wasn’t bad, either.

-you managed to get Chuck and the gang’s numbers as well, so you got to hang out with Chuck many times outside of your job.

-he and you frequently visited each other’s houses very often. The gang thought you guys were dating.

-you labeled those days as the best days of your life. Too bad you weren’t a bird.

-however, Chuck called you into his office one day.

‘are you satisfied with my work boss?’

‘very.’

‘so… what’s up?’

-silence.

-maybe he wanted to fire you? You began sweating.

‘dude, if I did something wrong just tell me.’

-more silence.

‘Boss, please tell me what’s wrong. I really care about—’

‘OKAY, I LIKE YOU Y/N. I’M TIRED OF BEING THE REAL NITWIT HERE.’

-You were flattered to say the least.

‘I… wow. I don’t know what to say.’

The two of you stayed all flustered for what seemed like hours even though it was a few seconds.

‘Big C—’

‘L-Listen, if you don’t like me ba—’

‘BIG C. I like you too.’

-Chuck was so flustered he melted in his seat. It took him a few minutes to recollect himself and stutter a sentence or two.

‘S-so… what does that make us?’

‘Partners, I guess.’

‘I love you so much, Y/N.’

‘I love you too, boss.’

‘Please, call me Chuck E.’

-leaving the office hand in hand, you two stand there. Everyone is in disbelief.

-pasqually, crusty, and jasper cheered. The Warblettes were happy Chuck finally could leave them alone.

-and that is how the relationship between you and Chuck began.

#pizza time theatre #chuck e cheese x reader #chuck e cheese #chuck e cheese headcanons #jasper t jowls #pasqually #crusty the cat #animatronic #x reader #tech #headcanons #scenarios #roleplay #by the way chuck is attracted to birds

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iamreykylotrash · 2 years

Text

realizing what he lost.

psa: this scene does mention narcissistic behavior. please, read with caution.

Cassian could feel his heart beating faster as he walked closer to the double doors.

He had craved to see her. After almost two years since she fled to the Autumn Court, he had still wanted her, never spending a day without her in his thoughts. He wondered what Eris did to her, only imagining what he would see after those doors opened.

Was she alright?

Did he hurt her?

Was she suffering?

Would she come back home?

Did she still love him?

Beside him, his family was there, waiting for those doors to open as well.

He could hear the mumbling from the inside, trying to hear his mate’s voice. He tried to single her out, but he couldn’t hear her over all the mumbles and laughter.

Will you be alright, Cassian? Rhys asks him.

It was a question he was asking himself since he found out she'd be here. His mind hounded him, calling out to her, receiving no answer. After everything that happened between them, he deserved her silence, but the pain was unbearable.

"Why do you always take their side? Every time I oppose them, you always defend them! You know I am right about this, Cassian! We have already fought a war where we lost thousands of lives! We are not prepared for another one! We won't last!" Nesta yelled at him.

Cassian pinches the bridge of his nose, "That isn't your call to make, Nesta! Rhysand and Feyre are the ones who make the call. Every war I have faced and won is because of Rhys. He knows what he is doing. We need to trust him." He tells her.

Nesta scoffs, "It's like you don't care how many soldiers you lose. Those men are prepared for war, but they are leaving behind families. You are part of the reason why. If you keep agreeing to everything that Rhysand does, eventually, you will lose." She says, facing away from him.

"And since when did you start caring about the lives of others? What did you do when your sister was out on her own, scavenging for food? You left her alone. She was out there by herself while you and Elain stood around doing nothing." He snaps at her.

Nesta snaps her head to him, "You have no idea what you are talking about! I explained my reason for doing so and I have apologized!" She tells him.

Cassian huffs a laugh, "And what was your precious reason? Was it because you were too lazy and figured that your youngest sister could do it on her own? Or was it because you thought yourself too valuable to ever do lowlife things such as that?" He says.

"Fuck you! Even when I told you everything that my mother had done to me, you still believe that I wanted Feyre to do everything? My mother trusted her to take care of our family! Yes, I know I could have done more, but I didn't know how to do everything as she did! Feyre had trained herself, taught herself the ways of the wild, while Elain and I could only watch!" She exclaimed.

Cassian rolls his eyes, "But you knew she was suffering. She needed your help, but you clearly couldn't see that. Instead, you stood to the side, caring about nothing but Elain and yourself. Fuck everyone, right? Including your father?" He tells her.

Nesta was stunned into silence.

Cassian's thoughts were interrupted as the doors opened.

As they walked into the room, he could see they were the sixth court to arrive. The Autumn Court wasn't there yet.

The General let out a breath of relief, not knowing what he would have done if he laid eyes on his mate. He might have embraced her or stole her away from the awful court, wanting to be with her for a single moment.

"Ah, look who has arrived. Isn't it fun to be in the same room as we were three years ago?" Helion asked with a gleaming grin.

Rhysand scoffed, "It would be fun if it weren't under severe circumstances. We shouldn't be talking about war so soon after going through one." He says, taking a seat beside Kallias.

Cassian's mind flashes back to that time, remembering how close he was to death, not knowing that he was looking at her right in those blue-gray eyes.

I have no regrets in my life, but this. That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you, Nesta.

That was the first moment he saw the pureness of his mate. He saw her vulnerability, feeling her very being tugging at him to stay alive. There, he fought with everything to be by her side, even if it were their last minutes alive.

Thesan scoffed, "If anything, you should be the most excited about this upcoming war, seeing as you weren't hesitant on starting one when Eris married your mate's sister." He says.

Feyre looks at him, "Whatever goes on with my family is none of your concern. Eris knew what he was getting himself into." She snaps at him.

He leaned forward in his seat, "Your sister crossed into my court, gaining temporary refuge from a family she stumbled upon. From what they told me, she was dirty, parched, and wet from the rain. Her fever reached high temperatures to the point where smoke rose from her body, even while she slept. She stayed in bed for five days before she was able to get up," Thesan says.

Cassian felt himself freeze at the words. He hadn't known. After she had left, he spent days screaming at himself when he should have gone out to find her, getting her back home where she was safe.

"You fucking bastard! How dare you say that? You make it seem that I didn't give a shit about what happened to her at all! I stared out the window almost every minute, hoping that she would return by sundown! There were times I stood out on the porch to see if I could see her silhouette to know she was alive! I may not have gone out there, but I was dependent on her!" Nesta yelled.

He chuckled, "Keep telling yourself that, Nesta, maybe you'll start believing yourself." He says, walking out of the room.

"She is my sister! I know what I did was wrong, but you have no right to hold it over my head! What if I said those same things about your mother?" Nesta told him.

At that, Cassian stopped, turning back to look at her, "You are on thin ice, Nes. I'd be careful with your next words." He tells her.

"So now you're threatening me? You are allowed to bring up my past, but I cannot bring up yours? You're a fucking hypocrite!" She yells at him.

"What happened with my mother is different. I barely knew her." He tells her.

Nesta scoffs, "And if you had known her, do you think that she'd be okay with you treating me like this? You act no better than the males in the mountains, treating women as if they're nothing but dirt!" She yells at him.

"Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you? You want me to be like them so that you can run off and go to someone else who your mother would deem more worthy of you?" He says, walking closer to her, "Let me tell you something, Nesta. There is no one in this world who will put up with you like I do. No one will understand you better than me. That is exactly why the Mother paired you with me. It's because I am the only male worthy enough to withstand your bullshit."

After the last word left his mouth, Cassian's head snapped to the side, feeling the sting of his mate's hand on his cheek, feeling the iron taste pool in his mouth.

"Whatever was between us, you have destroyed it. I don't ever want to see you again! You hear me! I reject this fucking bond!" She yells at him, walking past and out of the door of the House of Wind.

Next, it was Kallias who spoke, "High Lady, my guards had to rescue your sister from the mountains. With the equipment she was given, she barely made it out alive. If it weren't for the aid of my court, she would have been returned to you dead. Thankfully, for her flaming abilities, she was able to heal up quickly. We may not care about what goes on in your court, but when it comes to something like this, we deserve an explanation." He says.

Feyre sighs, looking away from them, probably talking to Rhysand through their bond. He held her hand, comforting her in this conflicting situation.

Cassian stared at them, knowing they were debating on whether they should say the truth. If they did, there was a high chance that he would be seen as the enemy in their eyes.

That's exactly what he thought he was anyway.

"There were some... complications between Nesta and me. I had said things I shouldn't and-" Feyre started but was interrupted.

"Lies. It was because of the General of the Night Court. From what my citizens told me, Eris and Nesta spoke about the situation whilst in my court. Cassian had fought with her, saying things about her past that he shouldn't have, making her leave that same night and trudge through Prythian on her own." Tamlin says, his arms crossed and eyes closed, unbothered.

Cassian stood from his seat, "You know nothing! I advise you to keep your mouth shut before-"

"Before what? You kill me? It would be mercy at this point. But do not try and scurry away from this, General. Your mate ran to another court to escape you," he leaned forward in his seat, "She married Eris because she would have died if she went anywhere else. You and your precious High Lord and Lady didn't give her a choice." Tamlin reveals, picking the dirt from under his nails.

This time, it was Cassian who was stunned into silence.

Then, the doors had opened once more, revealing the Autumn Court.

Everyone had their heads turned towards them, seeing Beron walk in with grace, the Lady of Autumn, and their youngest sons walking behind him. And the last to come in...

Nesta was put into a deep orange silk dress. It was slit at the side, showing her leg from her thigh all the way down to her white heels. Her neck was decored in the finest gold, shining in the sunlight. Her hair was put up into its natural style, wearing a crown of bronze leaves with gold flakes, showing where her allegiance lay.

Her arm was linked with Eris's, the ruby wedding ring shimmering as it caught the light. Her face held no emotion like her husband's. But they nodded once to everyone, showing common respect, unlike Beron and his other sons.

"Ah, the topic of conversation. You all made it just in time." Helion announced, the whole room becoming tense.

As the Autumn Court sat down, Cassian looked at the woman who sat across from him, not knowing who she was. She hadn't looked like the woman he fell in love with. She had changed.

"Topic of conversation? Please, do tell." Beron says to them.

Thesan shakes his head, "We will talk about it later. Right now, we must focus on what we will do about the upcoming war, and how we can prevent it from happening." He says.

He couldn't focus on their words. Nesta was fuller, vibrant even. She seemed more content. Even when her eyes briefly met with the Lady of Autumn, he saw the small smile she gave her, seeing a glow in her he hadn't noticed before.

Whatever was between us, you have destroyed it!

And it was true.

He had lost her.

#neris #nesta archeron #eris vanserra #cassian #anti nessian #nessian

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