coffee-and-quill

[coffee-and-quill]

Abby x Insecure Chubby Reader

You're having a bad day. Luckily, your ab-tastic boyfriend is there to save the day.

artist: @mambaunnie on Instagram

It was one of your bad days. You knew it from the moment you woke up, skin buzzing uncomfortably. You felt like your skin was stretched too tight around you, the air seemed to grate on your nerves. You got up, already feeling overwhelmed, wrong, and tried to go about your morning normally. You went to the bathroom, took one look in the mirror, and cringed. 

Oh. It’s one of those days.

You sighed, going about your morning routine, avoiding your own image in the shining mirror. You were halfway through brushing your teeth when Abby stumbled in, yawning noisily as he scratched his bare stomach. “Morning, baby,” he murmured sleepily, moving to wrap his arms around you, nuzzling into your neck with a happy sigh. You tried not to shy away, to push down the discomfort when his hands ran down your side, groping at your ample curves. You hear him groan softly. “You weren’t in bed when I woke up,” he pouted. 

You lean down to spit, stepping out of his arms to grab a towel from under the sink. You give him an apologetic look in the mirror as you finish cleaning your face. “Sorry, Abs. Had to start the day, I have a lot of work today.” You smile lightly at his grumpy sigh, setting the towel down on the sink. “You have rehearsals today, too.”

“I know,” he grumbles, reaching his arms up to stretch, his abs on full display making your mouth water. He sighs, dropping his arms and reaching for his toothbrush. “I just wanted some more cuddle time.” 

You don’t answer, too aware of yourself to even think about letting him that close. Your mind flashes with images of yourself. Too big, too squishy, too much. You shake your head, peeking at him. He hasn’t noticed your dilemma, too busy brushing his teeth with his eyes closed. 

You quickly leave the room, heading for the kitchen. You don’t feel like eating, so you grab a bottle of juice and write a quick goodbye note, making sure to sign it with a small heart. ‘Things will get better later,’ you tell yourself, ‘I’ll make it up to him later.’ 

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

Later neve came. You sat at your desk all day, thoughts spiraling around you. It got worse when you got a message from Abby, asking why you left without saying goodbye. You immediately called him, worried that he was upset with you. 

“Baby?” he answered after a few rings. You could hear people talking in the background. Probably the other members of the Saja Boys. “You okay?”

Your heart melted, and you bit your lip to keep yourself from crying. “I’m fine,” you schooled your voice into a cheerful tone. “I just had to get in early, we have a lot of stuff going on today.” 

“You sure?” he asks, tone laced with concern.

“Don’t worry, Abs, I promise I-,” you cut yourself off as you hear a voice coming through the other line in the background. A high pitched, female voice.

“They’re ready for you Mr. Abby!”

.

You hear Abby curse on the other line. “I gotta go, baby, but we’ll talk more later, okay?”

“Sure!” you say cheerfully, trying to mask the disappointment you feel. When he hangs up, you stare at your phone for a while longer. Finally, you set it down, turning back to your computer. After staring at the screen for a long time, unable to concentrate, you sigh and move to scroll through your social media, hoping to distract yourself for a little bit. 

You find a new post on the Saja Boys official account, a short clip of the boys at rehearsal. Abby is front and center, performing a sensual dance, rolling his hips and smirking at the camera. Your heart stutters in your chest. The comments are a flood of fans, each one full of praise, love, and lust. A strange ache fills your chest as you see comments from models and other idols, some brazenly asking him out or saying they were open for a private conversation. You put down your phone, eyes glancing down.

You had never been the type of person people would call ‘beautiful’. Average, maybe, sure, but not jaw-droppingly gorgeous. Not enough to be an idol or a model. This was made worse by the fact that you were a little bit bigger, a little bit curvier than the standard society set. You had always felt that you were just less attractive than the rest of the population because of it. 

And then you had met Abby. 

Never in a million years had you thought he would go for someone like you, but he took one look at you and decided you were everything he had been missing in his hundreds of years he had been a demon. He looked at you like you were the sun, and he loved you like you were everything. He made you feel gorgeous, beautiful, wanted. While he was around, you never felt less.

And yet… some days, days like these, those old, dark thoughts came creeping back in, like rot, spreading until you couldn’t even look at yourself. Thoughts that said you weren’t good enough. Thoughts that said you weren’t pretty enough, that Abby would get sick and tired of you and move on to someone better, someone who was as beautiful as him. Thoughts that ate at your self-esteem like a parasite until you felt like everything good you had felt was withered away and gone. You took your phone and put it on Do-Not-Disturb, and then you shut it in your drawer. You couldn’t bear to look at it.

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

By the time you got home, you had 11 missed calls and messages from Abby. You felt awful, and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and hide. You closed the door softly, taking a deep breath as you kicked your shoes off. You made your way into the living room, and that’s where you found him. He was sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, one leg bouncing as he stared forward. The second he caught sight of you, he was up, arms wrapping around you, burying his face in your neck.

“Baby,” he breathed, lips grazing your neck as if he needed reassurance that you were really there. “Where were you?” he asked, concern filling his voice. You couldn’t take it, trembling softly as your eyes welled with tears. A choked sob forces its way out of your throat, and his grip tightens. “What happened?”

“Why do you put up with me?” you gasp out between sobs. You feel his arms freeze around you, leaning back to catch your gaze in his. 

“What?” he asks, stunned that you’d even ask a question like that. “What do you mean, baby?”

“I’m just me,” you wail, reaching up to rub at the tears flowing down your face. “I’m not pretty, I’m just plain, old, chubby, me. And you’re so amazing, and kind, and mouth-wateringly gorgeous. Why are you even with me, Abby?”

Abby is shocked into silence for a while, eyes wide as they trace your face, mouth open. He flounders for an answer, everything you said cutting through his head like a knife. Finally, he chokes out, “You think I’m gorgeous?”

Silence. You stop crying, eyes widening as you jerk your head up in surprise. His face is no better, surprise filling his features like he can’t believe that was what came out of his mouth. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, and you can’t help but let out a hiccup, then a laugh. He jolts, as if he hadn’t expected the sound.

His gaze softens as he coos at you, hands coming up to swipe at the lingering tears on your face. “Please don’t cry, baby. I don’t know what to do if you cry.” You let out a watery giggle as he starts obnoxiously kissing your face, making smooching sounds with every kiss. “I don’t need anyone but you, baby. I feel alive when I’m with you, like I can’t breathe unless I know I’m yours. Please don’t say those things about yourself, baby. You're everything.” 

He leans down, catching your lips in a soft kiss, one that says ‘I’m here and I’m not going anywhere’. The taste of him leaves your breathless, and when he pulls away panting, he leans his forehead against yours and just holds you there. Cradled in his hands, you feel the tension slip from your shoulders as he continues to whisper sweet praises into the air between you. Soft confessions never meant for anyone but you. The anxieties melt away, and the exhaustion of the day set in. You feel yourself start to lean into him heavier, and he chuckles. 

He scoops you up with ease, pressing a soft kiss to your temple and blowing raspberries against the skin just to see you smile. You don’t notice him taking you to the couch until he sinks down into the cushions, holding you to his chest like his most precious treasure. “Take a nap, baby,” he murmurs, “Nothing in the world could make me leave you.”

[coffee-and-quill]

Mirrored Soul, Shattered Reflection

Rumi was born half-demon—an accident born of forbidden love between a demon and a hunter. A mistake. A secret. Something to be corrected. Raised as a hunter, she was taught to silence the truth of her blood, to never reveal the markings that betrayed what she truly was.

What Rumi never knew was this: the night she was born, so was another. Her twin.

Celine took one look at the second child and saw too much of the demon in her—too much danger, too much darkness. She made a choice. She ordered Sun-Hee, the third member of the Sunlight Sisters, to make the problem disappear.

But Sun-Hee chose another path.

Twenty-three years later, that second child returns—raised in the underworld by Gwi Ma himself, a daughter of shadow with only one purpose:

Revenge.

Saja Boys names:

Mystery: Hyunjae

Abby: Haon

Romance: Yeonwoo

Baby: Sion

Chapter 1

You watched with a casual disinterest from your position atop the stone arch as the newest group of demons pitched ideas to your father. You sighed, rolling your eyes as they described infiltrating the hunters’ private jet disguised as airline staff. You rolled over, turning your gaze to the sky, watching as the Honmoon pulsed gently, the soft blue flickering across the sky. You grit your teeth in disgust, turning your eyes away again. The demons were gone, seemingly sent away on their mission, and you found yourself wishing they would come back, if only so you could see the looks on their faces when they inevitably failed. You sighed, sitting up, rubbing your palms into your eyes when you felt the soft brush of familiar fur. 

You smiled lightly, rolling your head to stare at the wide yellow eyes of the tiger. It stared back at you, eyes blinking slowly, chuffing around the flower held gently in its teeth. You giggled, reaching your hand out to run your fingers through its blue fur. “Have they agreed already?” you asked, taking the flower from its jaw. The tiger blinked in response, turning away to jump down from the archway, eyes glancing back up to watch you. You smiled, standing up, stretching out your joints with a pained groan. 

“I shouldn’t keep them waiting, then,” you say, fangs flashing sharply in the light as you disappear in a puff of dark violet smoke. 

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The lake was silent, fog drifting gently over the surface as inky black water lapped at the surface. The tree was as eerie as ever, a large willow, limbs draping solemnly over the shore. The leaves were black, rotted, and the truck was dry and dead, but it was as peaceful as you could get in the underworld. Your feet landed softly in the dirt near the shore, and you glanced around silently, humming softly under your breath. You gently pluck a flower from the ground, pulling at the petals and watching them drift down, embers burning them to ash before they reach the ground.

You felt them before you saw them, five figures. They were fanning out behind you, surrounding you. You smiled and hummed, unbothered. “I’m honored you came,” you say, voice echoing across the water. Another petal burns. 

“What do you want, Y/N?” Jinu asks. You smile, turning to face him. His eyes flashed gold as he stood there, a few feet from you. You don’t see the others, but you know they are there, watching, waiting. He narrows his eyes, his patterns pulsing gently under the collar of his robe.

You feign a heartbroken sigh, clasping your hand over your chest dramatically. “I’m hurt, Jinu. I knew I had a reputation, but I thought we were friends! We have so much in common!” Your words are soft, gentle, but the way you look at them is anything but. Fangs flash in your smile and your eyes glint with something predatory.

Jinu growls, stepping forward protectively. “You don’t know anything about me,” he spits out, glaring harshly. Behind him, the shadows shifted anxiously.

You laugh, the sound sweet and sharp, like candy laced with razor blades. “I know you, Jinu, better than most actually.” You hum softly, turning away from him and facing the lake, eyes glancing over the inky waters. “I’ve heard whispers about your deal, what you gave up, what you ran away from…”

His jaw clenches. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

You shrug, gold flaring in your gaze. “Fine. I couldn’t care less about your sob story.” You bring your hand up, the Honmoon pulsing softly in response. “That being said, I think you and I are more alike than you know.”

He rolls his eyes. “Is that so?” he asks, voice filled with barely controlled annoyance. “A spoiled princess and a poor, broken singer? Am I your latest form of entertainment, your highness?” You don’t answer, ignoring the flare of anger at his provocation.

You take a deep breath, glancing back at them, eyes scanning over each figure. Calculating. Cold. “I have a proposition for you. All of you.” You sense the intake of breath, the curious glances. Another steps forward, eyes hidden behind a curtain of silvery purple hair. 

“What kind of proposition?” he asks, voice gentler than Jinu’s, edges less jagged. You smile at him, and he flinches back like he’d been burned. 

“What if I told you I knew a way out of this god-forsaken hell?”

You feel them freeze behind you, inhaling sharply as they take in your words. Silence stretches between you and them, a string of tension threatening to snap. Finally, another figure speaks, this one taller, hair falling in a waterfall of pink around his face.

“What do you mean?” His voice is cautious, careful, and you know he doesn’t fully trust you yet. You smile, glancing back at him, seeing the curiosity, the disbelief, and underneath the layers of icy mistrust, a small glitter of hope. 

“I have a plan…,” you say, and you smile devilishly as five figures step closer.

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The crowd of demons was eerily silent, nervous energy pulsing in waves over them. The demons who had been so confident about their plan had failed. You wish you were surprised, but you had known from the moment they said “airline staff” that they would fail. You sighed from your position against the stone pillar, rolling your neck as your father screamed in anger at the humiliating defeat. 

This routine was becoming tedious. Years of failures, years of getting beaten and broken. Gwi Ma was running out of time, and everyone was on edge. You rolled your eyes as he rambled on about the golden Honmoon. Then, a soft sound, a song strummed gently across the strings of an old bipa. The sound was jarring in contrast to the gruesome wasteland you lived in, and you had to stifle a giggle at the shocked faces of the demons. 

Jinu played his role perfectly, telling the story of your father’s first defeat against the hunters, mocking him in that dark, silky voice. You watched the crowd part as he made his way towards Gwi Ma, his trusted tiger following him diligently. You could feel the annoyance rolling off of Gwi Ma’s flames. “I let you keep that voice, Jinu, and you dare mock me with it?” His voice was controlled, but you could hear the quiet fury underneath, the familiarity of it sending a spike of anxiety up your spine. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to ignore the discomfort crawling along your skin. This would work. It had to.

“I’m not here to mock you, I’m here to help you. It’s time for a new strategy.” Jinu’s voice was comforting despite the situation, and you watched as he and the four other boys floated gently to the top of the steps. You watched them carefully, scanning for any hesitation, any signs that they might falter, but there was none. They were standing tall, proud, confident in the face of the flaming king.

"We fight the hunters where they least expect it, go after the very thing that powers the Honmoon," Jinu murmured, voice as soft and sweet as poison, "the fans." You watched from your position as they struck a pose, and you couldn't help but snort. You clamp your hand over your mouth to stifle any further sounds.

"A demon boy band," your father mutters incredulously. The howling of his laughter shakes the stone pillars around you and you watch as the demons below flinch. They all begin to laugh nervously, glancing between each other as they shift.

Jinu smirks, and then snaps his fingers. The groups’ forms shimmer, and you watch as they shift, patterns deepening, eyes flashing gold as they show themselves off. A wave of silence rushes over the crowd, demons staring in awe, some eyeing them in jealousy or admiration, others in fear. You smirk, your own eyes flashing gold in response.

His fiery gaze turns to you. "Was this your idea, my daughter?"

You shrug, smile turning razor sharp as your eyes scan the five boys. "You've got to admit, they make a pretty sight." You turn your eyes back to him. "I think it could work." Your father sighs as he hears the demons below nod and murmur in agreement. 

“I know you, Jinu,” Gwi Ma says, turning his eyes back to the leader of the group. “In 400 years, you’ve never done a thing for yourself. What is it that you want?” You watch Jinu flinch, and despite yourself, you feel something soft and sad flood your chest. You push the feeling down, watching casually as Jinu asks for his memories to be erased. This was planned, this is what you had promised him from the start. Freedom from his greatest shame. “And you, my daughter? What is your goal in forming this… group? What are you playing at?” 

You don’t answer him for a long time. Anger, frustration, and betrayal swirl in your gut, and you feel it rise, burning in your chest like hot embers. You grit your teeth, eyes meeting Jinu’s curious ones. You swallow, feeling it stick in your throat. Jinu’s gaze flickers with concern, and you look away, unable to handle the pity. When you finally answer, your voice is flat and cold. “I want to see the hunters destroyed” you state simply, ignoring the look of surprise from the boys in front of you. You hear Gwi Ma hum as he thinks, and you turn your eyes toward him.

“I will allow this,” Gwi Ma says, “on one condition.” The boys stand straighter, eyes flashing with anticipation. “Take my daughter with you. She is a valuable tool, and you can use her to destroy the Honmoon once and for all.” You watch as the boys look between each other, murmuring softly so you couldn’t hear. They nod, and you push yourself off the pillar, strolling past them nonchalantly. 

“Then let's go, boys,” you say cheerfully, waving them forward. “We have work to do.”

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

Seoul was as beautiful as they say. The lights glimmered gently against the skyline, and from your position on the balcony, you felt like you could see everything. The wind was chilly as it grazed your skin, and the air felt cleaner than anything you’d breathed in a long time. You stood leaning against the railing, gazing out across the city, lost in your thoughts. They spiraled through your mind, making it impossible to focus for too long on a single one before the next took its place. The world was louder than you’d expected, and you weren’t used to the sounds, the lights, the noise of life. When you looked down, you could see the faint shapes of people walking past, living their lives, not knowing what was watching them from above. 

The feeling of fur on your skin snapped you out of it, and you turned to find Jinu closing the sliding door to the balcony. Inside, the others sat around the low table in the living room, eating and drinking, savoring the feeling of temporary freedom. Sion sat on the couch, scrolling through a phone while shoveling noodles into his mouth aggressively, his bright blue hair shining under the lights. Haon was laughing loudly, shoving Hyunjae on the shoulder as he joked about something, head tilted back and eyes twinkling. Seonwoo sat on a chair, smiling gently, blowing a kiss at you when he noticed you watching. 

Derpy nudged your hand, and you scratched gently along his ears. Jinu came up beside you, leaning on the railing and sighing softly. “Been a while since we’ve been up here,” he said casually, glancing towards you. “I almost forgot what it looked like.” 

You shrug, not meeting his gaze. You kept staring out, eyes tracing the shapes of the skyscrapers surrounding you. Derpy purred against your hand, and your lips quirked upwards at the corners. 

“Can I ask what that was earlier?” Jinu asked cautiously. 

“What?” you ask, turning toward him in surprise. 

“Back when we were in front of Gwi Ma. Your reaction was… not what I was expecting.” 

You turn away, shrugging again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jinu scoffs. “Fine, don’t tell me. Not like I care about your sob story.” That shocks a laugh out of you, and you turn toward him. He is looking at you, not like how the other demons look at you, with fear and envy, but with something softer. Curiosity? You aren’t completely sure. Your body leans closer unconsciously, eyes tracing the lines of his face. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you sigh. “It doesn’t change the plan.” Jinu stares at you, watching you like a problem he hasn’t figured out yet. 

After a few minutes, he asks, “What is the plan?” 

You pause, tilting your head softly as you think. “Tomorrow, we start rehearsing.” You turn to him, your smile turning dangerous. "Tomorrow marks the beginning of the end for the hunters.”

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Taglist: @dukeacid @aika-3 @victoria1676 @the-sweet-psycho @ninacatk @gremlinartstudio @your-favorite-god @deputy-videogamer @adharalikethestar @hellborn-night-mare @doggyteam2028 @dyslexicepicfan @vipxl @kaeya91 @fluffykitsune28 @alastor-simp @shystarlightbluebird

[coffee-and-quill]

Mirrored Soul, Shattered Reflection Taglist

This is the taglist post for my Saja Boys x Reader (Rumi's Twin) story! If you want to be added to the taglist, please interact with this post! If you do not want to be a part of the taglist, DO NOT INTERACT, even likes. I hope you all like what I have to write!

[coffee-and-quill]

Hi yall! Sorry for the long wait for my Saja Boys x Rumi's Twin Reader! I promise it will be up probably tomorrow! Grad school has been kicking my behind lately, but I finally have a little time to myself, and I'm planning some big stuff! I thank you all for your support and patience!

[coffee-and-quill]

Sneak Peak. . .

"Go after the very thing that powers the Honmoon," Jinu murmured, voice as soft and sweet as poison, "the fans." You watched from your position as they struck a pose, and you couldn't help but snort. You clamp your hand over your mouth to stifle any further sounds.

"A demon boy band," your father mutters incredulously. The howling of his laughter shakes the stone pillars around you and you watch as the demons below flinch. They all laugh nervously, glancing between each other as they shift.

Jinu smirks, and then snaps his fingers. The groups forms shimmer, and you watch as they shift, patterns deepening, eyes flashing gold as they show themselves off. A wave of silence rushes over the crowd, demons staring in awe, some eyeing them in jealousy or admiration, others in fear. You smirk, your own eyes flashing gold in response.

His fiery gaze turns to you. "Was this your idea, my daughter?"

You shrug, smile turning razor sharp as your eyes scan the five boys. "You've got to admit, they make a pretty sight." You turn your eyes back to him. "I think it could work."

Taglist: @dukeacid @aika-3 @victoria1676 @the-sweet-psycho @ninacatk @gremlinartstudio @your-favorite-god

[coffee-and-quill]

Title options

I'm having trouble picking a title for the Saja Boys x Rumi's Twin Reader series, so here are some options. Lemme know what you think! Also, if you have any suggestions, please let me know!

p.s. I plan to post part one later this week!

Taglist: @dukeacid @aika-3 @victoria1676 @the-sweet-psycho

[coffee-and-quill]

Pending Title... (Saja Boys x Rumi's Sister Reader)

Rumi was born half-demon, the result of the love between her mother, a hunter, and a demon. A mistake. Something to fix. She was raised as a hunter, told to never show her patterns, never tell anyone what she really was. What she didn't know was the night she was born, there was another child. Her sister. Her twin. Celine felt this second child was too much like her father. She felt the child had too much demon blood to hide, that she was dangerous. So she told Sun-Hee, the third member of the Sunlight Sisters to get rid of her. Sun-Hee made a different decision. 23 years later, you return to the human world with the Saja Boys. Raised as a demon, the adopted daughter of Gwi Ma, you have one mission. Revenge.

Prologue

Celine paced the room, biting her nails harshly as she muttered under her breath. Outside, the world was peaceful, quiet, the glow of the Honmoon pulsing gently. Inside the house, everything was chaos. Sun-Hee, the third member of the Sunlight Sisters, was sitting quietly in the corner, tears dripping silently down her face. Sharp cries rang out from the other room shrill and heartbroken, a child calling for her mother. Celine flinched, eyes darting toward the door. She cursed under her breath, going back to pacing nervously.

Sun-Hee sniffed, wiping her tears away. “What should we do?” The question hung in the air like ash, and Celine froze.

“We keep going,” her voice was hard, steel and sorrow. “We raise Rumi as a hunter, we cover the patterns. We keep this between us.” Her eyes flashed, grief, anger, betrayal mixing in the depth. “No one will ever know.”

Sun-Hee didn’t look up, eyes glued to the wooden floorboards under her feet. “What about the… other one?” Her voice was soft, fragile, like she already knew the answer and was afraid to ask.

Celine glared at her, eyes sharp and calculating. “That’s… just another demon. We get rid of it.” 

Sun-Hee jumped up, fists clenching at her sides. “You can’t!” she yelled, eyes watering. 

“It’s got too much demon blood, Sun-Hee. We can’t cover that up.” Celine’s voice was deliberate, leaving no room for argument. 

“But, she was hers too. She’s Rumi’s sister.” Sun-Hee let out a sob, covering her mouth and turning away from the leader of the group. She couldn’t handle this. Losing Ryu was hard enough, she was her sister in everything but blood, and that was before they found out about… the twins. Sun-Hee couldn’t help but feel a sense of responsibility, protective over the last part of her friend that she had left. “We can’t just kill her.”

“We don’t have a choice. Rumi’s patterns are mild, they can be hidden. The other one? She’s…,” Celine trailed off. Her mind was running a mile a minute, already planning for the future. What they would say. The lies they would need to tell. “She’s dangerous.” 

Celine turned suddenly, striding up to her junior, setting her hands on Sun-Hee’s shoulder just like she did when they were younger. When things weren’t so complicated. “I’m going to take Rumi home with me. I’ll raise her. You need to take that… thing, and you need to get rid of it.” Sun-Hee flinched, trying to back away, shaking her head vehemently, but Celine’s grip was strong, bruising. “Sun-Hee, I can only entrust this to you. That thing should not exist.” She tilted her head down, catching the eyes of the younger member. “You understand, right?”

Sun-Hee hesitated, eyes wide and glossy. Celine squeezed harder, nails digging into her skin, and the younger woman flinched. Sun-Hee nodded, her head slumping down as the weight of her duty settled over her. “I understand, Celine.”

“I only want what’s best for you. For Rumi,” Celine said, turning to the door, to the sound of crying and anguish. “Don’t let me down. For Ryu’s sake.” She left, silence filling the room like lead.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The forest was dark, and Sun-Hee hated it. She’d always hated the dark. When Ryu was alive, she would come into her room at night, and they would stay up late. They laughed and joked like sisters, dreaming about their futures, about crushes and families. Sun-Hee let out a bitter laugh, adjusting the small bundle in her arms gently. “So much for marrying a billionaire, Unnie,” she murmured under her breath. The bundle in her arms shifted, squirming gently and whimpering softly. She cooed, shushing the child softly. 

Sun-Hee’s eyes filled with tears as she gazed down at the child. Behind the patterns, dark purple and splintering across the skin like shattered glass, behind the claws and the glowing eyes, she saw her friend’s face. She saw Ryu, giggling softly and blushing as she told Sun-Hee about the guy she had met, the look of nervousness as they got closer to sealing the Honmoon, the look of fear when Celine and her had found out who she had fallen in love with. The desperation, the anger, but also, the joy, happiness Sun-Hee had never seen on her friend’s face before. She looked down at this small child, the reflection of her parent’s love, and she sobbed. 

She clutched the child close to her chest, her cries ringing through the forest like alarms. Pain like she had never known flooded her chest, and she knew she could not kill this child. This reflection of the best moments of her sister’s life. So, she cried. And when her tears had run out, fire replaced the pain in her chest. 

Her eyes hardened, and she gently set the child on the ground. Summoning her daggers, she carefully slit her palm open, fresh blood falling onto the ground, the Honmoon glowing in response. “Gwi Ma,” her voice was iron and blood, anger and determination. The Honmoon shimmered violently, and a voice rang out in her ear.

“Never in all my life would I think a hunter would call upon me.” His voice was hard, but curiosity bled through. Sun-Hee could feel him, lurking just under the barrier, like a predator ready to pounce. “To what do I owe the honor, Sun-Hee of the Sunlight Sisters?”

Her jaw tightened. “I want to make a deal,” she grit out, voice steady despite the pounding in her chest. She was doing something incredibly stupid, she knew that. But if it meant the child would live, she would do anything. 

A laugh, deep and mocking. “Really? A hunter selling her soul? For what? Want to bring your friend back from the dead?” 

Sun-Hee flinched, glaring at the spot on the ground where her blood had fallen. A slight glow of purple shone through the usual soft blue. “No,” she muttered. “I want you to take her child.” She gestured to the small bundle on the ground, still squirming gently against the soft blanket. “Raise her, protect her, keep her safe. In return, I will give you my soul.” 

“Hmm?” the voice muttered, shifting its attention to the bundle. “Interesting, I’ve never seen someone make a deal to protect a demon. Does that child mean that much to you?” 

Sun-Hee nodded. “She means everything.” Her voice shook, eyes welling up again, but she would not cry. Not in front of him.

A deep, throaty chuckle. “Very well then, hunter. We have a deal.” Power surged around her, bright and blinding, and Sun-Hee had to shield her eyes against it. When she opened them, the child was gone. “I will raise the child as my daughter. She will be treated like royalty.” 

Sun-Hee sagged in relief, her power and bravado leaving her, and she stumbled. She could already feel herself growing weaker. Her life force was already leaving her. She smiled. “Thank you,” she whispered, slumping to the floor.

“To thank a demon for killing you, you must really be crazy,” the voice muttered. Then it was gone. Sun-Hee collapsed against a tree, eyes tracing up to the sky. She saw the stars, shining brightly against the sky, and the Honmoon pulsed a comforting blue mixed with pink. She smiled. 

Ryu’s daughters were safe, both of them. Sun-Hee closed her eyes, and the forest was silent. 

Author Note: Not beta read, so don't judge! I am in grad school so I don't know how long it will take me to post updates or how many parts this will be. This is just a concept to see if people want to read.

[coffee-and-quill]

Birthday Wishes Pt. 2

Stucky x Reader: You have been feeling neglected lately, but Bucky and Steve promised they would be there for your birthday. When they don’t show up, you are left feeling broken, and they are left wondering how they will every make it up to you

Authors Note: It took a long time to figure out how I wanted to end this. Relationships are hard, they are constant work and give/take. It takes communication and understanding for all parties to feel heard and loved. I hope y’all enjoy, and please let me know if there’s anything else you would like to see from me!

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It had been three weeks since Steve had seen you, talked to you, held you in his arms. Three weeks of radio silence, and it was killing him. He and Bucky had gone to your parent’s house the morning after they discovered you were missing. As if they weren’t feeling awful enough, the icy look your mother had given them so different from the warm, caring smile they were used to, sent shockwaves through their chests. Steve had begged to talk to you, but your mother had told them that you had left early that morning. You were going somewhere they couldn’t find you or bother you. When Bucky had tried to get more information, she had slammed the door in their faces.

              It took two more days of searching and desperation to figure out that Tony had helped you go completely off grid. “It’s not my place to tell you where she is, you shouldn’t have fucked up this bad,” the billionaire had told them when they tried to force your location out of him. He wasn’t wrong, and that set a heavy weight on their chests like nothing they had never felt before.

              Steve tried to go back to work, but every time he tried to buckle down and focus, or to accept a mission, he thought of your face. What if you wanted to talk to them? What if you came back and he was so caught up in his work again that he lost you for good? He might have already lost you, and the thought alone was enough to bring him to his knees gasping for breath. He felt small, smaller than he’d ever felt in his life. He would take being a sickly, scrawny kid in the 40s over these feelings any day. It got to the point where Fury told him to go home and not come back until his head was in the game again. “At this rate,” the director had grumbled, “You’re likely to get yourself or someone else seriously hurt if you continue as you are.” Steve didn’t argue. Instead, he slumped home, collapsed on the couch, and sobbed. Pain and heartbreak were the only things he knew anymore.

              Bucky was no better. After the acceptance that there was no finding you until you wanted to be found, the former assassin completely shut down. He barely ate and never slept anymore. How could he when there was the constant reminder that you were no longer in his life, no longer snuggled safely between Steve and him. The nightmares came back full force. He had almost forgotten what it was like to wake up screaming in a cold sweat. Now, instead of visuals of Hydra and the chair, and the blood and death that followed him like a storm, he had nightmare of you telling him you were done with him. You told him with a stone face that you’d never loved him, that you could never love a murderer, and you left with him begging and screaming on the floor. During the day he stayed in bed. He felt useless and weak, so, so weak. He was used to suffering, used to the constant weight of guilt on his chest. But this, this feeling, this guilt was far worse. People are constantly telling him that his actions as the Winter Soldier were not his fault, but this was all on him. There was no scapegoat, no evil organizations pulling the strings, no excuses, no one else to blame but himself. He was the reason you were gone, and it was destroying him.

 ()()()()()()()()()

                Three weeks, and you were feeling like absolute shit. You barely slept, ate only what you could unwrap in seconds, and you’re pretty sure you haven’t showered in at least a week. You couldn’t tell what day it was; time seemed to slip and slide together in a meaningless fuzz in your mind. Most days found you on the small couch of the cabin Tony had so graciously offered you, the TV on a low hum in the background playing some sort of celebrity reality program. Not that you really cared. Nothing really held your interest for long anyway. Your thoughts were stuck back in your apartment with your boys. You kept replaying the better times over and over, trying to figure out where you went wrong.

Back when you first got together, Steve and Bucky had been so sweet, so shy when bringing up the idea, so afraid that you would turn them away and they would lose the best thing that had happened to them since they were reunited. When you told them you wanted to give it a try, they had been ecstatic. Their excitement was infectious, buzzing around you like two overenergized puppies who had just been given the best treats of their lives. Those first few months had been blissful, none of you willing to be parted from the other longer than a day or so. You went on dates, ate crappy Chinese food together, snuggled up to each other on the cold nights.

You were crying again thinking about those times. You missed being with your boys more than ever, missed the connection and the feeling of safety and security. You missed the two people who knew you better than you could ever know yourself. You had been stuck on a loop for the past three weeks. Where did it go wrong? When did it happen and how did you not notice? Was it you? God, if you could only talk to them. You had so many questions, so many concerns. Mostly, however, you just wanted a hug. You just wanted to be held between your Stevie and your Bucky and you wanted to feel loved.

It had been around midday, after shoving down a lukewarm hot pocket, that you heard the front door of the cabin click open.

“Damn,” came the snarky voice of Tony Stark, “You look worse than I did after that one Easter party I threw.” Even through the fog in your brain, you couldn’t help but smile.

“That was your own fault, Stark,” you sassed, “Who the hell takes that many tequila shots at a brunch party?”

The billionaire scoffed. “Obviously you have no sense of danger, babe.” You flipped him the finger. “So,” he said, lifting your feet up so he could make himself comfortable on the cushy couch, “It’s obvious to me and to literally everyone else that something went on between you and the two super stooges back home. And by the way they have been moping around the tower and by the grease buildup in Barnes’ hair, they are fairing about as well as you.”

Your ears perked up at the information. You should feel satisfied that Steve and Bucky were feeling miserable for what they did. You should feel relieved that they are getting a taste of what they put you through. Instead, you just felt your heart sink into your stomach. No matter how angry you were at them, you could never stand the thought of them in pain.

“I’m not saying the two don’t deserve it,” Tony continued, “I’m just saying that if your going to make them suffer, at least do it in a way that you aren’t suffering as well.”

“I don’t want to make them suffer,” came you soft reply.

“No?”

“I was hurt.” The tears that had been gathering in your eye dripped down your face at your watery tone. “I was hurt, and angry, and I just felt like I had to run to escape those feelings, so I came here. But the longer I stayed, the less hurt and angry I felt. And then the sadness and loneliness came and I felt like I was drowning, and all I wanted was to be back with them. But I had already stayed away for so long. What if they don’t want me anymore? Or they think we can fix things? What if they realize they aren’t willing to try, Tony? I don’t think I could handle that.”

Tony scrubbed his hand over his face and let out a huge breath. “I can’t answer those questions for you, sweetheart. Lord knows if I could take the pain away, I would. But nothing is going to happen with you sitting here and refusing to talk to them.” You nodded, knowing that what he was saying was logical. You couldn’t solve anything by sitting around and moping, and lord knows you won’t solve anything by running away.

You took a deep breath “Ok. I’m ready to come home.”

“Good.” Tony stood up and adjusted his suit. “Because honestly, the boys have start loitering outside my lab looking like a couple of drowned kittens, and it’s depressing everyone.” He held out his hand for you, which you graciously took, standing and hissing out your cramped muscles. Tony took one step towards the door before stopping suddenly and turning back. “Maybe you should shower first. You stink like that casserole Clint tried to make for dinner that one time.”

Tony barely dodged the chipped mug thrown at his head.

 ()()()()()()()()()

                When you showed up to the apartment you shared with Bucky and Steve, your nerves had been on fire. Steve had opened the door looking he hadn’t slept since you had seen him last. His eyes widened and his arms twitched towards you instinctively, wanting to wrap you in in them and never let go. He held himself back, though it left a deep ache in his chest to do so. You wanted nothing more to go to him, to card you fingers through his hair and reassure him that everything was fine, that you were here and you would never leave again. You had to clutch the straps of your bag until your knuckles were white to stop yourself.

              “We need to talk.” Your voice was small, fragile. You wanted to run and hide all over again, but you knew this needed to be done. Steve nodded jerkily, widening the door to allow you to enter. Visually, everything looked the same; the couch was in the living room, blankets thrown haphazardly across the back, and the table sat in the kitchen with its three mismatched chairs and well-loved surface. However, as you moved further into the space, you noticed a staleness to the air that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t a home anymore, and the thought made you frown deeply.

              Steve closed the door softly behind you. “I’ll go get Bucky,” he murmured, and you shivered. God help you, you were so in love with these men. Even tired and beat down, Steve’s voice still had an effect on you. It reminded you of soft kisses over bare skin in the early morning hours before the rest of the world was awake, of tender love and honey sweet words spoken between breathy moans.

              You pushed the memory to the back of your mind as Steve reentered, Bucky following close behind. You felt your breath catch at his appearance. He looked broken. Dark circles fell under lightless eyes, the grief and despair that sat heavy on his shoulders was visible in the hunch he wore, as if he was being physically crushed by its weight. You could have honestly cried if it were a different situation.

              At the sight of you standing in the living room, he cracked a smile that looked almost painful. “Hey, Doll. I missed you,” he rasped. Hi voice was scratchy and rough from crying. Despite the somber tension that hung in the room like mist, you felt a sense of peace wash over you at the presence of your boys. Despite your nerves, despite your fears and reservations, you smiled at them. The tension melted from Bucky and Steve’s shoulders, and you knew everything would be okay. You could do this.

 ()()()()()()()()()

                The three of you spent hours talking. You told them everything: your fear of being left behind and forgotten, your frustrations with always feeling second place to the duties as avengers, the anger of that night and the emotions of the last three weeks. In turn, they shared their guilt and frustration at their own actions. They told you how they felt that being avengers was the only thing they could do to help people, it was the only thing they knew, and they had been scared to deviate from that routine, even when it had started pushing you away. They shared the fear they felt at finding you gone, and the terror and grief that had set in when they realized you might not come back and that was it for the three of you. Finally, they shared their confession that nothing they had done or would ever do as avengers would be more important than you. They wanted to change, to get better. They wanted to do it for you.

              What started as you sitting across from them quickly transitioned into the three of you cuddled together on the couch, seemingly one entity. Weeks of no contact had starved the boys of your touch, and they couldn’t remove themselves from you if they wanted to. Bucky lay across you legs with his head in your lap, his arms wrapped around your waist. You hand was tangled in his hair, massaging the base of his skull. Your other hand was gripped tightly in Steve’s as you leaned back into his broad chest. His blond head rested comfortably on your shoulder, turned inward to whisper his apologies into the exposed skin of your neck. Every once and a while he would leave a lingering kiss there, the skin tingling nonstop from the feel of his lips. You felt more relaxed than you had in weeks. That night you fell asleep in your bed, bracketed by the two most important people in your life. You would be okay.

[coffee-and-quill]

Stress Baking

Stucky x Reader

Summary: The boys had told you it was a simple mission. In and out, no danger involved. How do you react when one Tony Stark reveals that statement to be the very opposite of the truth? More importantly, how do the boys exact their revenge on the billionaire for worrying their girl?

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You both loved and hated Tony Stark. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have known the danger of the mission Bucky and Steve had been on for the past week. That, in it of itself, was a blessing and a curse. Sure, now you knew exactly where they were and what they were doing, but on the other hand, now you were incredibly worried and stressed out, which was not a good thing.

           You trusted your boys, you really did, but they had lied straight to your face. “It’s just a routine recon mission,“ Bucky had said as he kissed you goodbye, “We won’t even need to use our guns!”

           Steve had been more reserved, nodding quietly along with Bucky’s words as he packed their go-bag. She should have recognized his actions as guilt right then, but it was hard to think about anything with Bucky’s constantly wandering hands. So she had smiled, and they had left, and she was content. That was until Tony Stark had shown up at her door with a few shots of tequila flowing through his system. She rolled her eyes and busied herself with grabbing him a glass of water and some toast as he rambled on about Pepper and another fight they had gotten into. It wasn’t your first time dealing with a drunken Tony, and it wouldn’t be your last, so you were unfazed as he continued his rant, until he spit out, “I’m surprised your as calm as you are, what with the Hydra raid going on right now.”

           Suddenly, you felt your heart seize in your chest. “What did you say?” Your voice was trembling.

           Tony suddenly looked very confused, more-so than usual when he was drunk. “Didn’t they tell you? They found a Hydra base connected to the Winter Soldier program. They demanded they handle the raid on their own, against my brilliant advice of course. They’ve been fighting for their lives for the past week.”  You could barely here him behind the simmering rage currently building in your gut. Oh, you and your lovers were going to have words when they got back in two days, that was for damn sure. You turned to ask Tony more questions when you noticed the soft snoring. Even through the frustration, you smiled. ‘What a dork,’ you thought as you picked up your phone and dialed Pepper’s number.

 ()()()()()

             It was a week after the boys were supposed to return home, and your anger had been reduced to sheer terror at their absence, especially since they missed their checkpoint and have been MIA ever since. The kitchen at the compound looked like a tornado had hit it. You don’t remember when you began baking as a coping mechanism, you only knew that it was the only reason you weren’t having a meltdown in the corner of your room. So far you’d baked ten batches or your famous chocolate chip cookies, seven pies, and were currently kneading the dough for a loaf of bread as if it had killed your mother. Your eyes were glued to your tablet, where an activity tracker for Steve and Bucky sat motionless. Technically you weren’t supposed to have access to such a level of intel, but after you threatened to shove a pencil somewhere very unsavory, Tony relented. Not that it helped much, as the two hadn’t been active since last night, when they were supposed to call from a checkpoint. Your hands shook as you turned the dough out into a greased bowl to proof, moving around the kitchen to prep the ingredients for another batch of cookies.

           As you began mixing, you heard the door to the common room slide open. You assumed it was Nat or Wanda, both of whom had made a habit of checking in on you every few hours since you had started baking, so you continued stirring. They would get the hint and leave. “What, no greeting for your best guys?” The obviously non-female voice made you freeze. Turning slowly, you caught sight of Bucky. He was sporting the traditional smirk which might have made you smile was it not for the black eye and busted lip he was also sporting. Your eyes flitted to Steve, he was smiling softly and leaning heavily on his right leg. Your relief was short lived as the anger you had forgotten slowly creeped back up your spine.

           Placing your hand on your hips you sent a glare towards the two, “You’re a week late, boys.”

           The smirk fell from Bucky’s lips. “Sorry, Doll. The recon ran into some trouble, some pissy drug dealers with-,” you held up a hand to stop his ramble and turned your head to Steve.

           “Would you like to try again? Only the truth this time.”

           Steve sighed as he stepped forward. “Who told you?” His voice was hoarse, tired. All he wanted was to hug his girl and sleep for four days.

           “Tony. You know how he likes to talk when he’s drunk.”

           “He likes to talk all the time,” Bucky tried to joke, but was quickly shut down by the look you sent his way.

           “Sweetheart,” Steve caught your attention, “I’m sorry. I hate lying to you. We didn’t want you to worry. We know how you get.” He gestured to the kitchen behind you and you felt yourself blush. “We just—we had to do this.” Bucky nodded solemnly.

           You sighed and pushed away from the counter. You stepped into Steve’s awaiting arms, the tension of the last week melting off your shoulders as his hands stroked up you back. “I thought,” you said, “we agreed on honesty. No more lying. I love you, both of you, worry just comes with the territory.” You placed your hand on Steve’s cheek, stroking along the stubble. “Please, no more lying.” You were begging, but you needed them to understand. Steve let out a breath and nodded, then his lips found yours. The kiss was short and sweet, a promise. He let you go and you stepped over to Bucky, who smiled and scooped you up in a longer, more intense kiss. He was always competitive.

           As he set you back down on your feet, you heard him hiss. You looked between the two of them. “Did you even go to the infirmary before coming to find me?” The two soldiers had the decency at least look guilty. You sighed before pulling them out of the kitchen. What devoted idiots you had.

 ()()()()()

             It was later that evening when the soldiers got their revenge on Tony Stark. He was sitting in the lounge chatting with Sam and Clint, both of whom sat with a plate of your cookies in hand and were munching happily. Who were they to turn down free stress cookies. It was cold outside, the snow falling steadily, all was quiet. No one even heard them enter. They were silent, deadly, hunting their prey. Tony was sat in an armchair, laughing along with something Sam had said when—

           WHAM! His head snapped forward so sharply that it startled the two avengers in front of him. Cold snow dripped from the back of his head, sliding onto his expensive Prada suit. He turned his head, finally noticing the giggling super soldiers, each with a handful of snowballs in their arms. He didn’t have time to process before another one was flying at his face. Sam and Clint were yelling, shielding their cookies as they ran from the room. Snow and ice was flying, Tony was cussing, and Bucky was pretty sure this was the best day of his life.

[coffee-and-quill]

Birthday Wishes

Stucky x Reader: You have been feeling neglected lately, but Bucky and Steve promised they would be there for your birthday. When they don’t show up, you are left feeling broken, and they are left wondering how they will every make it up to you

Warnings: Angst, Bucky and Steve being adorable morons

_ _ _ _ _

It had been months since you spent any quality, romantic time with your boys. Months since you had woken up cuddled between them, months since they had eaten dinner with you or even gotten home before you fell asleep. Furthermore, it had been months since you had had any intimate sex, nothing more than a quick fuck before rushing off for work. You tried so hard not to get upset. They were superheroes after all; the great Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, the Captain and the Soldier. Villains didn’t stop being villains just because you were feeling a little neglected.

           So you shut your mouth. You gave them polite smiles when they said they would have to stay late, you packaged up the dinners you made with love every night, you gave them quick kisses and declarations of love in the morning, and you hoped that things would slow down eventually. Life has a way, you figured out, of really taking the piss out of all of your hopes and dreams.

           You had told Steve and Bucky at least 50 times over the last three days that you needed them here on Saturday. You sent them texts, put notes up on the fridge, and even called Tony to explain the situation. They had missed Thanksgiving, they had missed Christmas, they had missed Valentines Day, they were not going to miss your birthday. You didn’t want anything but a full day of attention from the two men who you loved the most.

           Yet when you woke up that Saturday, your bed was cold. There was a not on the dresser from Steve saying that something important had come up and that he and Bucky would be back before dinner. You tried to hold back the feeling of dread. You told yourself that a romantic dinner with your loves was more than what you had gotten in a while, and that it was better than nothing. You might even be able to indulge in some well needed release with the two afterwards. So you sighed and began going about the preparations for that night.

           A feeling of peace came over you as you sipped your coffee and took out the ingredients for your cake. You had made one on every birthday you had shared with the boys. It was a favorite of all of yours: chocolate devil’s cake with rich ganache frosting and raspberry filling. You still remember the sinful moan that Bucky had let out when he first tried it on his birthday. You had almost creamed your panties on the spot. You smiled at the memory and continued to prep the ingredients, swaying your hips to the soft music playing. It was almost muscle memory at this point. When the cake was in the oven, you prepped the food for dinner. It was one of Steve’s mother’s recipes, rescued from the Smithsonian last year. You lived for the look of nostalgic glee that he got on his face whenever he came home to this meal. It made your heart soar.

           As the day wore on, you got more and more frustrated. You had gotten calls from your family, friends, even Tony had called to wish you a happy birthday, but you still hadn’t heard from your boys. It was getting later, closer to the time they would get off. You figured they wanted to surprise you. So you went upstairs, showered, and put on your favorite dress: a sleek, satin, red number that always made Steve and Bucky’s eyes grow dark. After, you set the table, placing the roses you had picked up yesterday into a crystal vase and lighting a few candles. You poured three glasses of the fancy wine you kept for special occasions and sat down to wait.

           By the time the clock rolled around to 9, you knew they weren’t coming. You had already drank half the wine and were feeling very, very pissed. You picked up your phone, hands shaking and tears on the edge of you eyes. The dial rang twice before Steve picked up.

           “Hey, sweetheart! Sorry, I didn’t realize the time. What’s up?” his voice was far too chipper, and it made you sick.

           “Where are you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

           “We got caught up with something, there is a lot of paperwork. It looks like me and Buck will have to spend the night.”

           “I told you that I needed you today, Stevie.” You wanted to throw up.

           “I know sweetheart, but can we postpone? Maybe we can have date night next weekend?”

           You were crying now. Your breaths were coming in short bursts, and your heart felt like ice; a cold, heavy weight sitting in the middle of your chest making it impossible to breathe.

           Steve’s voice cut through, “Is everything alright sweetheart? Did something happen?” You could hear Bucky in the background, clearly recognizing the worry in his boyfriend’s voice. They had forgotten. You had been together for so long, and they had forgotten. You hung up without answering his question.

           The room was spinning. Everywhere you looked you saw the remnants of your life with the soldiers. Bucky’s work boots standing by the door, Steve’s favorite book on the coffee table, your mugs set up on the counter together. It was mocking you. You stumbled up to your shared room, ignoring the ringing of your phone downstairs. You didn’t want to think, you just wanted out, away from the pain, away from the reality of your loneliness. You threw some clothes in a duffle and left. You didn’t take your phone. You didn’t want to talk or be found. You could barely see as you drove, tears running down your face and smearing your makeup.

           Your mom didn’t ask any questions when she opened the door to find you there, still in your red dress with puffy eyes and a lost look. She opened your arms, and you fell into them and cried.

_ _ _ _ _

 Steve was already starting to panic when you didn’t pick up the third time. He racked his brain trying to figure out what was wrong. Did someone break in? Were you hurt? He vaguely remembered something about you asking them to take the day off, but it was lost in the panic of the attack. Some new recruits had returned from a scout to reveal information on three new Hydra bases that they hadn’t even known about. There was paperwork, lots of it, and plans that needed to be drawn up, teams that needed to be assigned. All of that seemed small at the thought of you hurt.

Bucky was pacing nervously. “Did she say anything else? Anything at all?” he asked, biting his lip.

“No,” Steve responded, “She hung up without answering.” The two super soldier were too preoccupied to notice Tony had entered. The billionaire eyed the men curious.

“I’m surprised you two aren’t home yet. I’d assume you’d had some grand plans for your girl’s birthday,” he said smirking. The words hit Steve like a bucket of ice water. He looked over, seeing Bucky with the same expression of shock, guilt, and fear.

Tony looked back and forth between them, and his cocky expression fell. “Don’t tell me-,” he didn’t finish. The boys were out of the room before he could, sprinting as fast as they could down the hall.

_ _ _ _ _

             The door swung open, nearly punching a hole in the wall as Steve and Bucky heaved through the door. One look told them all they needed to know. Steve walked up to the table, a gorgeous dinner lying cold on the plate and an empty bottle of wine next to two full cups and an empty one. The candles were burnt out and the roses had been knocked over. As he went further, his breath caught in his throat. The cake, so beautiful and made with so much love and effort, was smashed, and next to it on the counter was the promised ring he and Bucky had given you two years ago. A wretched noise left his throat as he sank to his knees.

           Bucky wasn’t fairing any better. His eyes scanned the room with military precision, but inside was a panic like nothing he had ever felt before. As Steve cried on the floor, he rushed past him and up the stairs to their bedroom, hoping to whatever god was out there that you were still here. He knew before he stepped in the room that his prayers were unanswered. The closet was open and your travel duffel was gone. Your toiletries which had so long held the place between his and Steve’s were missing, leaving a gaping hole on the counter that he could feel down to his soul. A cold feeling began to creep through him, starting deep in his chest and spreading outward. It was painful and heavy and dark, and Bucky hated it. He would take Hydra any day over this. What made it worse was he knew it was his fault, he knew and he could do nothing to fix it. You were gone.

           He trudged back downstairs where Steve sat motionless, still on the kitchen floor, clutching your ring like a lifeline. He slumped into one of the table seats, where he noticed your phone, abandoned and out of battery.

           “What are we going to do?” he asked, voice hoarse with emotion.

           Steve looked over, tearing up again. “I don’t know.,” he whispered. Bucky felt his heart sink even deeper.