miryum

[miryum]

☆ 18+ minors dni ☆

Lifeguard!Jason Todd was a pretty chill guy. He’s using this summer job to finance going to Gotham University and it pays pretty well, considering that it’s the community pool. He already was CPR certified and so it seemed like a natural choice

Lifeguard!Jason Todd had dyed his hair blond a couple months back with the rest of his college buddies and the black roots were slowly growing back so it looked like he had just gotten highlights

Lifeguard!Jason Todd spent his days atop the lifeguard chair with the umbrella tilted just so to shade him. His legs were always casually spread, feet braced on the chair. His red swimsuit stood out perfectly against his tanned skin and as the day progressed, the suit would slip just a bit farther down his hips, the laces dangling past his crotch. His whistle hung from his neck, resting just perfectly on his chest

Lifeguard!Jason Todd whose hair was always a bit messy as he watched over the pool, it seeming to spike up. As he sat slouched effortlessly in the chair, his chest and abs were on perfectly display, his stomach having those little rolls on it from his position. Yet, he still made it seem so attractive

Lifeguard!Jason Todd was the topic of every teen and preteen girl (and some boys) at the pool. After he was instated as a lifeguard, attendance seemed to spike. The manager wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t complaining. The girls would tan right across from where Jason sat or dive into the pool right next to him. Jason seemed to be oblivious to it all, though he still was doing his job and watching to make sure they weren’t drowning

Lifeguard!Jason Todd had three fifteen minute breaks every shift he worked where he would reapply sunscreen and take some food from the snackbar, which was free because he was an employee

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who met you back at college and perhaps that was the reason he didn’t even bat an eye at the girls at the pool — even the ones his age. He already had a girl to call his own

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who was part of a frat, but didn’t live in the frat house. He was more in it for the camaraderie than anything. You were in an overlapping friend group and that’s how you met. You quickly clicked and soon started dating

Lifeguard!Jason Todd had gotten the job over the summer not only to pay for university (Bruce was good for something, he supposed) but because he wanted to use his debit card when paying for your dates or buying you things

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who had a better relationship with his family than some other of the variants. He chatted frequently with Dick and texted with Tim and the others. He would go over to the Manor for holidays and spent every joint birthday with Alfred

Lifeguard!Jason Todd had convinced you to stay with him during the summer break so he could see you. He didn’t think he could survive if you went back home for three months. You spent some of your days at the pool, if you weren’t working or hanging out with friends. Jason got you free entry and snacks and you routinely laid out in the sun or chatted with your boyfriend

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who, whenever there was a break for the lifeguards, Jason always threw you into the pool, hands braced under your thighs. He would dive in afterwards, shaking the water from his hair and grinning. He loved to swim with you, especially if he wasn’t on duty. He would tackle you in the water or just backstroke around, chatting with you

Lifeguard!Jason Todd felt as if quality time was very important. He adored spending time with you, even if it was in silence. He liked to lay on the couch, your feet up on his chest as he massaged them. Hearing you read was quite relaxing to him, but he also enjoyed watching TV. Comedies were his favourite, especially because he liked to hear you laugh. Unbeknownst to him, you also loved to hear him laugh. It was deep and it sometimes sounded like he was surprised, the snicker just bubbling up from him

Lifeguard!Jason Todd also liked long movies where you could cuddle up underneath a blanket, your legs thrown across his lap and he could dig his fingers into your skin

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who was cool and collected at the pool, but with you, he melted like butter. His manager joked about how with the bikini-clad women at the pool, his eyes glazed over them, but when you stopped by, his stare couldn’t leave you

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who loved to give you lazy kisses in bed, lips trailing over your skin, and propped up on his elbow with you tucked under him. Just thought you should know. He really liked doing that

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who, like Frat!Jason Todd, found play wrestling amusing. He was a big guy, not only because he was a lifeguard and he needed to be, but because he just… was. He liked to work out and eat a lot. Genetically, he was just a buff guy. So when you tackled him from behind, legs wrapping around him, a loud laugh always escaped him. He liked using his big body to smother you into the ground until you pushed him off, giggling

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who found you extremely attractive. He liked your thighs, especially. Using them as a pillow, squishing his face between them, kneading them like stress balls, he just liked touching you. This was especially apparent in public. He was still a frat guy and emulated that energy, brim of the cap facing backward with an arm around your shoulders. Whether he was pressing kisses to your forehead or one of his huge hands was on your ass, he had to be touching you

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who didn’t find anything more pleasurable than when you were ovulating. He mused on how he could simply stay in bed that entire time, letting you have your evil little way with him. Remember, he was a horny frat boy

Lifeguard!Jason Todd was more into funny, joking sex than super passionate and rough sex. He had his moments, of course, when he just wanted to fuck you (and vice versa), but most of the time he enjoyed the shared giggles and laughs. He thought it brought you two closer and added a nice levity to relationships

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who mussed up his hair whenever he got the chance and it got to the point where you swatted his hand away from his head, annoyed

Lifeguard!Jason Todd didn’t give you many reasons to argue with him. He did the laundry and dishes, kept a steady routine, and took you out on thoughtful dates. He remembered anniversaries and communicated well. You were a bit suspicious at first, having heard all the horror stories of boyfriends, but as it turned out, Jason just… chilled. There was no other word for it

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who liked cinnamon gum to an unhealthy amount

Lifeguard!Jason Todd joked about giving you CPR just as an excuse to kiss you

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who overall was just a very relaxed guy (who happened to be extremely handsome) and was incredibly in love infatuated with you (but seriously, he loved you so utterly much)

Consider this my hesitant re-entry into this fandom... I'm trying guys, so be nice 🥲

[miryum]

☆ 18+ minors dni ☆

Lifeguard!Jason Todd was a pretty chill guy. He’s using this summer job to finance going to Gotham University and it pays pretty well, considering that it’s the community pool. He already was CPR certified and so it seemed like a natural choice

Lifeguard!Jason Todd had dyed his hair blond a couple months back with the rest of his college buddies and the black roots were slowly growing back so it looked like he had just gotten highlights

Lifeguard!Jason Todd spent his days atop the lifeguard chair with the umbrella tilted just so to shade him. His legs were always casually spread, feet braced on the chair. His red swimsuit stood out perfectly against his tanned skin and as the day progressed, the suit would slip just a bit farther down his hips, the laces dangling past his crotch. His whistle hung from his neck, resting just perfectly on his chest

Lifeguard!Jason Todd whose hair was always a bit messy as he watched over the pool, it seeming to spike up. As he sat slouched effortlessly in the chair, his chest and abs were on perfectly display, his stomach having those little rolls on it from his position. Yet, he still made it seem so attractive

Lifeguard!Jason Todd was the topic of every teen and preteen girl (and some boys) at the pool. After he was instated as a lifeguard, attendance seemed to spike. The manager wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t complaining. The girls would tan right across from where Jason sat or dive into the pool right next to him. Jason seemed to be oblivious to it all, though he still was doing his job and watching to make sure they weren’t drowning

Lifeguard!Jason Todd had three fifteen minute breaks every shift he worked where he would reapply sunscreen and take some food from the snackbar, which was free because he was an employee

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who met you back at college and perhaps that was the reason he didn’t even bat an eye at the girls at the pool — even the ones his age. He already had a girl to call his own

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who was part of a frat, but didn’t live in the frat house. He was more in it for the camaraderie than anything. You were in an overlapping friend group and that’s how you met. You quickly clicked and soon started dating

Lifeguard!Jason Todd had gotten the job over the summer not only to pay for university (Bruce was good for something, he supposed) but because he wanted to use his debit card when paying for your dates or buying you things

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who had a better relationship with his family than some other of the variants. He chatted frequently with Dick and texted with Tim and the others. He would go over to the Manor for holidays and spent every joint birthday with Alfred

Lifeguard!Jason Todd had convinced you to stay with him during the summer break so he could see you. He didn’t think he could survive if you went back home for three months. You spent some of your days at the pool, if you weren’t working or hanging out with friends. Jason got you free entry and snacks and you routinely laid out in the sun or chatted with your boyfriend

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who, whenever there was a break for the lifeguards, Jason always threw you into the pool, hands braced under your thighs. He would dive in afterwards, shaking the water from his hair and grinning. He loved to swim with you, especially if he wasn’t on duty. He would tackle you in the water or just backstroke around, chatting with you

Lifeguard!Jason Todd felt as if quality time was very important. He adored spending time with you, even if it was in silence. He liked to lay on the couch, your feet up on his chest as he massaged them. Hearing you read was quite relaxing to him, but he also enjoyed watching TV. Comedies were his favourite, especially because he liked to hear you laugh. Unbeknownst to him, you also loved to hear him laugh. It was deep and it sometimes sounded like he was surprised, the snicker just bubbling up from him

Lifeguard!Jason Todd also liked long movies where you could cuddle up underneath a blanket, your legs thrown across his lap and he could dig his fingers into your skin

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who was cool and collected at the pool, but with you, he melted like butter. His manager joked about how with the bikini-clad women at the pool, his eyes glazed over them, but when you stopped by, his stare couldn’t leave you

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who loved to give you lazy kisses in bed, lips trailing over your skin, and propped up on his elbow with you tucked under him. Just thought you should know. He really liked doing that

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who, like Frat!Jason Todd, found play wrestling amusing. He was a big guy, not only because he was a lifeguard and he needed to be, but because he just… was. He liked to work out and eat a lot. Genetically, he was just a buff guy. So when you tackled him from behind, legs wrapping around him, a loud laugh always escaped him. He liked using his big body to smother you into the ground until you pushed him off, giggling

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who found you extremely attractive. He liked your thighs, especially. Using them as a pillow, squishing his face between them, kneading them like stress balls, he just liked touching you. This was especially apparent in public. He was still a frat guy and emulated that energy, brim of the cap facing backward with an arm around your shoulders. Whether he was pressing kisses to your forehead or one of his huge hands was on your ass, he had to be touching you

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who didn’t find anything more pleasurable than when you were ovulating. He mused on how he could simply stay in bed that entire time, letting you have your evil little way with him. Remember, he was a horny frat boy

Lifeguard!Jason Todd was more into funny, joking sex than super passionate and rough sex. He had his moments, of course, when he just wanted to fuck you (and vice versa), but most of the time he enjoyed the shared giggles and laughs. He thought it brought you two closer and added a nice levity to relationships

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who mussed up his hair whenever he got the chance and it got to the point where you swatted his hand away from his head, annoyed

Lifeguard!Jason Todd didn’t give you many reasons to argue with him. He did the laundry and dishes, kept a steady routine, and took you out on thoughtful dates. He remembered anniversaries and communicated well. You were a bit suspicious at first, having heard all the horror stories of boyfriends, but as it turned out, Jason just… chilled. There was no other word for it

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who liked cinnamon gum to an unhealthy amount

Lifeguard!Jason Todd joked about giving you CPR just as an excuse to kiss you

Lifeguard!Jason Todd who overall was just a very relaxed guy (who happened to be extremely handsome) and was incredibly in love infatuated with you (but seriously, he loved you so utterly much)

Consider this my hesitant re-entry into this fandom... I'm trying guys, so be nice 🥲

[miryum]

I thought Tumblr might appreciate this

[miryum]

Hey, just before I forget — I will be moving timezones come September so I just didn’t wanna suddenly switch on you guys and freak some people out by suddenly posting at like, 4 am their time. I will be much more busy come September, so I’ll try to get some fics out over the summer to compensate for that

[miryum]

Taglist (so sorry it’s so late and it’s just people who commented): @g1g1l @reblogger-only @nerdreader @syssmin

Doing Something Stupid Pt 2 (Thunderbolts*!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Part 1

Warnings: spoilers to Thunderbolts, swearing, memories of torture (though not explicit), very very very small illusion to Bucky’s SA if you read between the lines

Bucky stepped into the darkness. Once Yelena had submitted herself to the Void to go after Bob, or whatever the hell his name was, Bucky found himself doing the same. He didn’t know what to expect, nor did he particularly want to think about it. As the Void formed around him, he ran a hand through his hair — a small thing he did unconsciously whenever he wanted to calm down. It reminded him of how you brushed your fingers through his hair. A memory ran through his brain, though it was a nice one unlike the ones he was sure to encounter soon.

Bucky’s head laid on your chest. He was close to blissful sleep when he heard you mutter, “you know, I think I might buy you some different conditioner. Is that okay?”

“Whatever you want, doll,” he mumbled faintly.

“Seriously, I think with some conditioning and then maybe a little blow-dry, you would look like a prince.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed together. “You want me to look like a prince?” he asked.

“I just think it would look really pretty.”

The super soldier smiled lazily. “Okay, doll.”

The first scene to materialise around him was a place he saw frequently in his memories. It would be agony to relive so vividly, but with the thought of you in his mind, he stepped forward.

Bucky watched as his own chest heaved with exhaustion. He had been given food, yes, for they would never starve their budding super soldier. Water was sparse, so he had learned to drink no matter what drugs may be in it. For now, his problem was surely a new serum they had injected into his veins.

Bucky, the one with the shiny new arm and aging lines on his face, couldn’t help but watch. A much younger version of himself was strapped down to a table. His hair was clean cut, though he hadn’t shaved in some days, and there was panic in his eyes. He wore a dirty green shirt, dog tags hanging out to remind him that if he died, at least his sister and mother would know of it. He had two flesh arms, riddled with little cuts and dirt. 

Even without the hints, Bucky could’ve easily remembered the scene. Right before Steve would save him, yet too late to stop the experimentation. 

Bucky turned away as his younger self began to scream. This was nothing new and he had long learned how to deal with his own cries, voice wailing and cracking desperately. As his memories shrieked, he began to search for a way out, fingers tracing along the cracks before spotting the glimmer of a different Hydra cell in the reflection of a sterilised tray.

He jumped through.

This time, the howls for mercy were replaced by a stone cold stare, grunts all that could escape the mouth of the Winter Soldier as he struggled against the machine he ironically couldn’t seem to forget.

Bucky stood in the corner, jaw set and unable to tear his eyes away. Why was this more painful than the last memory? He could see the way his veins pulled against his skin, the way his matted hair hung in his face, and the way his eyes seemed to slowly resign to his fate.

There was nothing left, the Winter Soldier was thinking. And Bucky knew the feeling all too well.

Could he stand to watch the way the metal arm with the red, brutal star reflected in the light? With all the hands roving over him, willing him to do their bidding and slowly stripping away what little identity he had left?

Bucky found himself thankful that this was the memory the Void had presented to him. There were far worse ones. But perhaps he had buried those too far away…

Even in the Void, Bucky Barnes was not lucky. The memories he had to trudge through to try and find Yelena and Bob were scattered, never in chronological order, but maybe that was just a testement to how fucked up his brain was. 

Hydra seemed to dominate, which didn't come as a surprise. Bucky hadn’t even tried to save his past self, knowing it was fruitless. He had resigned himself to staring around the room, looking for the next torturous memory he had to walk into.

There was when they welded the fatal arm onto his stub of a shoulder, like giving the Grim Reaper his scythe. Numerous memories were when Hydra nobodies — low level men who thought it would be good fun to show each other how they could subdue the great Winter Soldier — would barge into his cell and force him onto his knees with well placed electric shocks. Another memory pulled from the vault was the one time he tried to resist the chair. Bucky had watched with pity as the Winter Soldier struggled and roared with frustration, taking out one or two scientists. Both knew that retaliation would be long and disastrous.

It wasn’t until he pushed his way from the Hydra base to a place he knew all too well that he froze with actual terror.

In this new memory, it should’ve been blissful to see you in your bed at the Avengers’ compound, sleeping soundly with your chest rising and falling in rhythm. Bucky stepped forward, gaze softening. His eyes were stuck to you and as he crouched by the edge of the bed, he couldn’t help but reach out and brush your cheek. You looked so peaceful and lovely. This had to be years ago, given that your hair was styled differently and the laugh lines by your eyes weren't as prominent as they were in the present. How could this be a bad memory?

Bucky’s eyes flicked down to your hand that was resting above the covers. No ring yet. He hadn’t made you his. Maybe that was the bad memory part of it. That he had been stupid enough not to propose the moment he saw you.

Just then, the bed shifted slightly and an arm was slung over your shoulders. Bucky instantly frowned. That wasn’t his arm. He stood and when he saw who was beside you, his blood ran cold. He could feel his heart drop to his stomach where it was slowly digested in a pit of acid.

Tyler. The ex-boyfriend.

No. Bucky knew what was coming. He whirled towards the door just in time to hear the timid knock. No no no. Shit. How dare the Void pull this from his broken brain and present it to him. You stirred and your eyes cracked open. “No no, go back to sleep,” Bucky hushed out, rushing towards you, but it was too late. Your legs had already swung off the bed and you were pulling away from Tyler’s arm. Dressed in nothing but one of Tyler’s shirts, you made your way to the door, rubbing your eyes. Meanwhile, your boyfriend let out a groan, which Bucky cringed at. He knew the extent of super-hearing.

Bucky tensed as you opened the door, revealing himself. This younger Bucky had only been at the compound for a few months and had instantly glued himself to you, something that surprised everyone, Steve included. You weren’t an Avenger — simply Tony’s assistant, but after a kidnapping where some guys had thought you’d give up your boss, Tony had offered for you to just move into the compound.

But had that mattered to Bucky? No. You were a break from the chaotic life of a quasi-superhero and all the redemption he was trying to achieve. You were a calming base. He frequently found himself coming to you whenever he had nightmares and you would always open your arms.

Then came Tyler.

Steve always shot Bucky sorrowful glances whenever Tyler came around, making him feel pathetic. He found himself drawing away from you, which certainly didn't help his mental health. That probably had something to do with the nightmare that led him to your room.

Bucky watched as his younger self looked up from his pitiful stare of the floor to your face. The younger man’s shoulders dropped with relaxation before he noticed your attire. That only made his muscles tense again, but you were too tired to notice. “Hey, Buck,” you greeted, trying to suppress a yawn. Bucky pressed his lips together in greeting. “Did you have another nightmare?” your voice was loving and the Bucky Barnes stuck watching this unfold even felt himself breathe a sigh of relief at the sound of it.

After a moment, the Bucky of his memories nodded, but he shuffled around. “I didn’t realise you had company,” he muttered out and the invisible Bucky who could do nothing wanted to wail out in desperation.

“Oh, well, yeah, Tyler’s staying the night,” you explained awkwardly. 

Bucky, the super soldier he was, seemed to shrink into himself. “Sorry for waking you.”

“No, no!” Bucky shouted to himself, surprised at the ferocity he felt. “Don’t just leave!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you coaxed softly. “You know it’s okay.”

The Bucky that still had the silver arm shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he apologised again. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You looked like you wanted to say something, but Bucky turned and walked away. The Bucky in this wretched Void could only have his words catch in his throat, eyes shining with tears. He urged his feet to work and ran after his younger self.

Bucky watched as he closed the door to his room, which was down the hall from yours. Suddenly, he found himself back in his old room at the compound. It must be some magic of the Void, forcing him to keep witnessing this torment. 

The younger Bucky stood in the middle of his sparse room, hands clenched to fists at his sides. His body slowly began to shake with sobs. Bucky, the older one who had already lived through his heartbreak, couldn’t help but rush forward and take his younger self into his arms, trying to console him.

“It’s okay,” he pleaded. “He’ll be gone in two months. I know, I know. It’ll be okay. She loves you. She really does, I promise. She didn’t want to turn you away. Please, listen to me!”

But he knew that the blissful sleep that only came in your arms wouldn’t find him for years to come.

The next memory was speedy, which was exactly how it felt when he and Sam went different ways. Bucky only made it in time to watch Sam stalk off, shoulders taut. Bucky was still reeling from the last memory, so seeing himself lose a friend, especially when the wound was so recent, didn’t help in the slightest. 

“Damn it. Damn it!” he found himself yelling, throwing his hands up into the air. He wished he could go back just a few months ago and force himself to walk after Sam and attempt to fix the cavern that had appeared between them.

But it didn’t matter. In the window of a shop nearby, Bucky could see the reflection of Yelena and Bob. He charged forward.

It was all a publicity stunt. That goddamn Valentina was able to play it off beautifully. And Bob just stood to the side, clapping stupidly because he couldn’t remember shit.

Cameras flashed around them and he knew his face would be splashed on every television and newspaper soon enough.

Bucky didn't have time for this. He had more important things to attend to. Like taking Alpine to the vet. He simply walked away.

Riding the subway in his tactical gear after saving Earth didn’t even make him bat an eye. He got off right by his home and walked up the steps.

You were sitting on the couch, tears streaming down your face and with the news on in the background. Bucky quickly rushed towards you, crushing you in a hug. You toppled over on the couch from the force, but simply gripped him back. “Thank god,” you whispered into his skin as he buried his face into your neck. “Jesus, Bucky. I- I saw the blackness coming towards me and then all of a sudden I’m back in my memories and I know for a fact you probably stepped into that hell by your own volition and I told you not to do anything stupid. What you then had to relive—” His arms circled around you tighter and you reciprocated. “— I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. And then I turn on the news expecting to see my husband dead but there you are, proclaiming to be new Avengers, like what the hell?!”

Bucky didn’t say anything, just needing to feel you breathing and in his arms. He would wipe the tears away later and tell you everything that had happened. He would welcome your insistence of him resting in bed and your doting cuddles. He would tolerate your rant about him running towards trouble and how stupid he was. Just after he made sure you were still his.

“You’re still taking Alpine to the vet tomorrow, right?” You broke the silence.

“Yeah, of course.”

[miryum]

Marvel Masterlist

Bucky Barnes-

✧ Doing Something Stupid- Bucky, against your scolding, does something stupid. But he'll always come back to you

Part 1 Part 2

[miryum]

Doing Something Stupid Pt 2 (Thunderbolts*!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Part 1

Warnings: spoilers to Thunderbolts, swearing, memories of torture (though not explicit), very very very small illusion to Bucky’s SA if you read between the lines

Bucky stepped into the darkness. Once Yelena had submitted herself to the Void to go after Bob, or whatever the hell his name was, Bucky found himself doing the same. He didn’t know what to expect, nor did he particularly want to think about it. As the Void formed around him, he ran a hand through his hair — a small thing he did unconsciously whenever he wanted to calm down. It reminded him of how you brushed your fingers through his hair. A memory ran through his brain, though it was a nice one unlike the ones he was sure to encounter soon.

Bucky’s head laid on your chest. He was close to blissful sleep when he heard you mutter, “you know, I think I might buy you some different conditioner. Is that okay?”

“Whatever you want, doll,” he mumbled faintly.

“Seriously, I think with some conditioning and then maybe a little blow-dry, you would look like a prince.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed together. “You want me to look like a prince?” he asked.

“I just think it would look really pretty.”

The super soldier smiled lazily. “Okay, doll.”

The first scene to materialise around him was a place he saw frequently in his memories. It would be agony to relive so vividly, but with the thought of you in his mind, he stepped forward.

Bucky watched as his own chest heaved with exhaustion. He had been given food, yes, for they would never starve their budding super soldier. Water was sparse, so he had learned to drink no matter what drugs may be in it. For now, his problem was surely a new serum they had injected into his veins.

Bucky, the one with the shiny new arm and aging lines on his face, couldn’t help but watch. A much younger version of himself was strapped down to a table. His hair was clean cut, though he hadn’t shaved in some days, and there was panic in his eyes. He wore a dirty green shirt, dog tags hanging out to remind him that if he died, at least his sister and mother would know of it. He had two flesh arms, riddled with little cuts and dirt. 

Even without the hints, Bucky could’ve easily remembered the scene. Right before Steve would save him, yet too late to stop the experimentation. 

Bucky turned away as his younger self began to scream. This was nothing new and he had long learned how to deal with his own cries, voice wailing and cracking desperately. As his memories shrieked, he began to search for a way out, fingers tracing along the cracks before spotting the glimmer of a different Hydra cell in the reflection of a sterilised tray.

He jumped through.

This time, the howls for mercy were replaced by a stone cold stare, grunts all that could escape the mouth of the Winter Soldier as he struggled against the machine he ironically couldn’t seem to forget.

Bucky stood in the corner, jaw set and unable to tear his eyes away. Why was this more painful than the last memory? He could see the way his veins pulled against his skin, the way his matted hair hung in his face, and the way his eyes seemed to slowly resign to his fate.

There was nothing left, the Winter Soldier was thinking. And Bucky knew the feeling all too well.

Could he stand to watch the way the metal arm with the red, brutal star reflected in the light? With all the hands roving over him, willing him to do their bidding and slowly stripping away what little identity he had left?

Bucky found himself thankful that this was the memory the Void had presented to him. There were far worse ones. But perhaps he had buried those too far away…

Even in the Void, Bucky Barnes was not lucky. The memories he had to trudge through to try and find Yelena and Bob were scattered, never in chronological order, but maybe that was just a testement to how fucked up his brain was. 

Hydra seemed to dominate, which didn't come as a surprise. Bucky hadn’t even tried to save his past self, knowing it was fruitless. He had resigned himself to staring around the room, looking for the next torturous memory he had to walk into.

There was when they welded the fatal arm onto his stub of a shoulder, like giving the Grim Reaper his scythe. Numerous memories were when Hydra nobodies — low level men who thought it would be good fun to show each other how they could subdue the great Winter Soldier — would barge into his cell and force him onto his knees with well placed electric shocks. Another memory pulled from the vault was the one time he tried to resist the chair. Bucky had watched with pity as the Winter Soldier struggled and roared with frustration, taking out one or two scientists. Both knew that retaliation would be long and disastrous.

It wasn’t until he pushed his way from the Hydra base to a place he knew all too well that he froze with actual terror.

In this new memory, it should’ve been blissful to see you in your bed at the Avengers’ compound, sleeping soundly with your chest rising and falling in rhythm. Bucky stepped forward, gaze softening. His eyes were stuck to you and as he crouched by the edge of the bed, he couldn’t help but reach out and brush your cheek. You looked so peaceful and lovely. This had to be years ago, given that your hair was styled differently and the laugh lines by your eyes weren't as prominent as they were in the present. How could this be a bad memory?

Bucky’s eyes flicked down to your hand that was resting above the covers. No ring yet. He hadn’t made you his. Maybe that was the bad memory part of it. That he had been stupid enough not to propose the moment he saw you.

Just then, the bed shifted slightly and an arm was slung over your shoulders. Bucky instantly frowned. That wasn’t his arm. He stood and when he saw who was beside you, his blood ran cold. He could feel his heart drop to his stomach where it was slowly digested in a pit of acid.

Tyler. The ex-boyfriend.

No. Bucky knew what was coming. He whirled towards the door just in time to hear the timid knock. No no no. Shit. How dare the Void pull this from his broken brain and present it to him. You stirred and your eyes cracked open. “No no, go back to sleep,” Bucky hushed out, rushing towards you, but it was too late. Your legs had already swung off the bed and you were pulling away from Tyler’s arm. Dressed in nothing but one of Tyler’s shirts, you made your way to the door, rubbing your eyes. Meanwhile, your boyfriend let out a groan, which Bucky cringed at. He knew the extent of super-hearing.

Bucky tensed as you opened the door, revealing himself. This younger Bucky had only been at the compound for a few months and had instantly glued himself to you, something that surprised everyone, Steve included. You weren’t an Avenger — simply Tony’s assistant, but after a kidnapping where some guys had thought you’d give up your boss, Tony had offered for you to just move into the compound.

But had that mattered to Bucky? No. You were a break from the chaotic life of a quasi-superhero and all the redemption he was trying to achieve. You were a calming base. He frequently found himself coming to you whenever he had nightmares and you would always open your arms.

Then came Tyler.

Steve always shot Bucky sorrowful glances whenever Tyler came around, making him feel pathetic. He found himself drawing away from you, which certainly didn't help his mental health. That probably had something to do with the nightmare that led him to your room.

Bucky watched as his younger self looked up from his pitiful stare of the floor to your face. The younger man’s shoulders dropped with relaxation before he noticed your attire. That only made his muscles tense again, but you were too tired to notice. “Hey, Buck,” you greeted, trying to suppress a yawn. Bucky pressed his lips together in greeting. “Did you have another nightmare?” your voice was loving and the Bucky Barnes stuck watching this unfold even felt himself breathe a sigh of relief at the sound of it.

After a moment, the Bucky of his memories nodded, but he shuffled around. “I didn’t realise you had company,” he muttered out and the invisible Bucky who could do nothing wanted to wail out in desperation.

“Oh, well, yeah, Tyler’s staying the night,” you explained awkwardly. 

Bucky, the super soldier he was, seemed to shrink into himself. “Sorry for waking you.”

“No, no!” Bucky shouted to himself, surprised at the ferocity he felt. “Don’t just leave!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you coaxed softly. “You know it’s okay.”

The Bucky that still had the silver arm shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he apologised again. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

You looked like you wanted to say something, but Bucky turned and walked away. The Bucky in this wretched Void could only have his words catch in his throat, eyes shining with tears. He urged his feet to work and ran after his younger self.

Bucky watched as he closed the door to his room, which was down the hall from yours. Suddenly, he found himself back in his old room at the compound. It must be some magic of the Void, forcing him to keep witnessing this torment. 

The younger Bucky stood in the middle of his sparse room, hands clenched to fists at his sides. His body slowly began to shake with sobs. Bucky, the older one who had already lived through his heartbreak, couldn’t help but rush forward and take his younger self into his arms, trying to console him.

“It’s okay,” he pleaded. “He’ll be gone in two months. I know, I know. It’ll be okay. She loves you. She really does, I promise. She didn’t want to turn you away. Please, listen to me!”

But he knew that the blissful sleep that only came in your arms wouldn’t find him for years to come.

The next memory was speedy, which was exactly how it felt when he and Sam went different ways. Bucky only made it in time to watch Sam stalk off, shoulders taut. Bucky was still reeling from the last memory, so seeing himself lose a friend, especially when the wound was so recent, didn’t help in the slightest. 

“Damn it. Damn it!” he found himself yelling, throwing his hands up into the air. He wished he could go back just a few months ago and force himself to walk after Sam and attempt to fix the cavern that had appeared between them.

But it didn’t matter. In the window of a shop nearby, Bucky could see the reflection of Yelena and Bob. He charged forward.

It was all a publicity stunt. That goddamn Valentina was able to play it off beautifully. And Bob just stood to the side, clapping stupidly because he couldn’t remember shit.

Cameras flashed around them and he knew his face would be splashed on every television and newspaper soon enough.

Bucky didn't have time for this. He had more important things to attend to. Like taking Alpine to the vet. He simply walked away.

Riding the subway in his tactical gear after saving Earth didn’t even make him bat an eye. He got off right by his home and walked up the steps.

You were sitting on the couch, tears streaming down your face and with the news on in the background. Bucky quickly rushed towards you, crushing you in a hug. You toppled over on the couch from the force, but simply gripped him back. “Thank god,” you whispered into his skin as he buried his face into your neck. “Jesus, Bucky. I- I saw the blackness coming towards me and then all of a sudden I’m back in my memories and I know for a fact you probably stepped into that hell by your own volition and I told you not to do anything stupid. What you then had to relive—” His arms circled around you tighter and you reciprocated. “— I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. And then I turn on the news expecting to see my husband dead but there you are, proclaiming to be new Avengers, like what the hell?!”

Bucky didn’t say anything, just needing to feel you breathing and in his arms. He would wipe the tears away later and tell you everything that had happened. He would welcome your insistence of him resting in bed and your doting cuddles. He would tolerate your rant about him running towards trouble and how stupid he was. Just after he made sure you were still his.

“You’re still taking Alpine to the vet tomorrow, right?” You broke the silence.

“Yeah, of course.”

[miryum]

Next part is coming out in two hours!! 😝

Doing Something Stupid (Thunderbolts*!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Warnings: very obscure/small spoilers to Thunderbolts* (the scene I wrote about was in the trailer), allusions to sex, talk of guns, allusions to Bucky’s trauma, Bucky’s metal arm

Standing in the kitchen, Bucky watched as Alpine ambled across the counter. The cat was due for a vet appointment soon and he knew he would be the one taking her. You never liked taking Alpine to the vet because it was one of the few times the cat shook in fear and you would look over at Bucky, wide-eyed and lip practically quivering. With both of his girls looking like that, Bucky always caved.

He was wearing a white tank-top under his dress shirt, eyes scanning over packets that had been sent over weeks ago. He was still getting used to being Congressman Barnes, but he certainly liked the way your eyes glinted whenever you called him that. It usually led to other things that you called him much too old for. He always proved you wrong.

As he was taking a bite of leftovers, sauce plopped down onto his shirt and arm. He looked down and sighed in defeat. Alpine meowed at him, as if chastising him for eating messy food in his fancy clothes. Shrugging the shirt off and running it under some water from the sink, Bucky shot Alpine a glare. “Don’t tell her,” he grumbled. Alpine promptly leapt off the counter and sauntered off.

A while later, Bucky was still flipping through the packets, left arm gone. He heard you before he felt you. Your footsteps were ingrained in his mind and he was sure he would be able to distinguish them out of a lineup if need be. Your hands pressed along his back and then up to his shoulders. He could feel your cheek between his shoulder blades and he felt his muscles instinctively relax. You weren’t repulsed by the raised scars and mountains that littered his skin, leaving patches a bit lighter or redder than normal. Your fingers brushed over them all, just the same, never wavering or disgusted. After years of fearing human touch and all that it had done to him, Bucky was still baffled that yours was the one that could soften him and leave him undone. Wrapped around your finger, Sam used to say.

“What have I told you about eating before an event, James Buchanan Barnes?” you asked, voice soft and teasing.

“Did Alpine tell you? Traitor.” He turned around and leaned against the counter, hand instantly finding your hip and drawing you close.

You gave him a knowing look as you stepped between his legs. “Don’t call my baby that.” You glanced down to see the dishwasher running before looking back up at your husband. “Really?”

Bucky shrugged innocently. “It’s efficient. Plus, it needed a good cleaning after last night.”

You scoffed and pushed at his shoulder lightly, knowing exactly what he was talking of. Your hands slipped down to his waist before resting your chin on his collarbone, eyes staring up at him. Bucky silently begged the dishwasher to finish; he wanted to hold you properly, with both arms. Luckily, he got his wish. 

“Gimme a second, doll,” he said, opening the dishwasher and steam gently rolled out. It only housed two plates from breakfast that morning and a couple of glasses, the majority of the bottom rack being taken up by his vibranium arm. Clicking it back into place, after a roll of his shoulders, he could hold you again.

The silence was interrupted by his phone ringing and he let out a low groan, head dropping to rest on your hair. “Could be work,” you coaxed and he reached over to grab the offending device. You were right, as you always were, and you listened as Bucky tried to encourage Mel, the assistant of Valentina De Fontaine, to testify against her employer. You pitied the poor girl, knowing that she was in a difficult position between morality and power. Bucky’s metal hand drew absentminded circles over your waist as the call continued and Alpine mewed from the couch. 

 “Are you gonna be safe?” is all you asked when the phone had been hung up and Bucky stared down at you with that look in his eye. He was planning something that most likely involved guns and superhumans.

“I’ll try.”

“That’s not exactly convincing,” you muttered out, but let your head rest against his chest. You caught his left hand in yours and began to gently trace the golden edges of his knuckles and wrist. Your thumb brushed over the engraved gold strip on his ring finger he had gotten after your wedding. He still wore his ring most of the time, but when he was in the public eye and away from you, he wanted something that didn’t draw attention to you while also silently professing his love. It was for your protection and you understood that wholeheartedly. 

“Doll…” he said in response.

“No, I know,” you sighed softly. “Just please come back to me in one piece. And don’t do anything unnecessary.”

Alpine let out a loud meow that seemed sarcastic, if that was even possible. “I love you,” Bucky reminded you, though he didn’t need to. You knew that he did, unwavering and strong as always.

“I love you, too,” you replied, knowing that no matter what, your husband would find a way back to you. He always did. He was stubborn, something that seemed synonymous with the last name of Barnes. And that stubbornness had served him well numerous times over, always leading him back to you.

Over the years, both of you had changed. But you had changed together. Things were more mellow now than they used to be and you felt more concrete in your love for each other. It wasn’t wild and firey like it used to be when you were younger, but that was something both you and Bucky were okay with. 

“And remember,” you said as he reluctantly pulled himself away from you to go change into something not stained – you would take it upon yourself to clean his shirt, “you have to take Alpine to the vet in two days. She needs a shot, my poor baby.” You moved over to where the cat was lounging on the couch, right on top of the cushions, and gave her a few scratches behind her ears. Alpine let out a rumbling purr, leaning into your touch. Like father, like daughter, Bucky rationalised.

“Of course,” he replied, changing course to step over to you. He didn’t want to get dressed if you were standing there, looking like that. His nose bumped into yours and as his scruff tickled your cheek, he kissed you like he always did; that was one thing that hadn’t changed over your years together: he was still a starved man when it came to you.

...thinking of making this a mini-series. Thoughts?

[miryum]

hey so like

hi, you. yeah im talking to you. You like my stuff from time to time and reblog once and a while, and I always recognize you in my notes. we’ve never talked, maybe you dont like to say much or you’re nervous or something. it’s okay, whatever it is. 

I see you. you mean a lot to me. sometimes when I’m having a hard day, I’ll notice your name once again in my notifs and it makes me smile. im not kidding.

I don’t care if you’re a “ghost” follower or you send me asks all the time. i see you and I love you so much, genuinely and truly. you are really important to me. 

thank you. thank you for being there. <3

[miryum]

Doing Something Stupid Pt 1 (Thunderbolts*!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Part 2

Warnings: very obscure/small spoilers to Thunderbolts* (the scene I wrote about was in the trailer), allusions to sex, talk of guns, allusions to Bucky’s trauma, Bucky’s metal arm

Standing in the kitchen, Bucky watched as Alpine ambled across the counter. The cat was due for a vet appointment soon and he knew he would be the one taking her. You never liked taking Alpine to the vet because it was one of the few times the cat shook in fear and you would look over at Bucky, wide-eyed and lip practically quivering. With both of his girls looking like that, Bucky always caved.

He was wearing a white tank-top under his dress shirt, eyes scanning over packets that had been sent over weeks ago. He was still getting used to being Congressman Barnes, but he certainly liked the way your eyes glinted whenever you called him that. It usually led to other things that you called him much too old for. He always proved you wrong.

As he was taking a bite of leftovers, sauce plopped down onto his shirt and arm. He looked down and sighed in defeat. Alpine meowed at him, as if chastising him for eating messy food in his fancy clothes. Shrugging the shirt off and running it under some water from the sink, Bucky shot Alpine a glare. “Don’t tell her,” he grumbled. Alpine promptly leapt off the counter and sauntered off.

A while later, Bucky was still flipping through the packets, left arm gone. He heard you before he felt you. Your footsteps were ingrained in his mind and he was sure he would be able to distinguish them out of a lineup if need be. Your hands pressed along his back and then up to his shoulders. He could feel your cheek between his shoulder blades and he felt his muscles instinctively relax. You weren’t repulsed by the raised scars and mountains that littered his skin, leaving patches a bit lighter or redder than normal. Your fingers brushed over them all, just the same, never wavering or disgusted. After years of fearing human touch and all that it had done to him, Bucky was still baffled that yours was the one that could soften him and leave him undone. Wrapped around your finger, Sam used to say.

“What have I told you about eating before an event, James Buchanan Barnes?” you asked, voice soft and teasing.

“Did Alpine tell you? Traitor.” He turned around and leaned against the counter, hand instantly finding your hip and drawing you close.

You gave him a knowing look as you stepped between his legs. “Don’t call my baby that.” You glanced down to see the dishwasher running before looking back up at your husband. “Really?”

Bucky shrugged innocently. “It’s efficient. Plus, it needed a good cleaning after last night.”

You scoffed and pushed at his shoulder lightly, knowing exactly what he was talking of. Your hands slipped down to his waist before resting your chin on his collarbone, eyes staring up at him. Bucky silently begged the dishwasher to finish; he wanted to hold you properly, with both arms. Luckily, he got his wish. 

“Gimme a second, doll,” he said, opening the dishwasher and steam gently rolled out. It only housed two plates from breakfast that morning and a couple of glasses, the majority of the bottom rack being taken up by his vibranium arm. Clicking it back into place, after a roll of his shoulders, he could hold you again.

The silence was interrupted by his phone ringing and he let out a low groan, head dropping to rest on your hair. “Could be work,” you coaxed and he reached over to grab the offending device. You were right, as you always were, and you listened as Bucky tried to encourage Mel, the assistant of Valentina De Fontaine, to testify against her employer. You pitied the poor girl, knowing that she was in a difficult position between morality and power. Bucky’s metal hand drew absentminded circles over your waist as the call continued and Alpine mewed from the couch. 

 “Are you gonna be safe?” is all you asked when the phone had been hung up and Bucky stared down at you with that look in his eye. He was planning something that most likely involved guns and superhumans.

“I’ll try.”

“That’s not exactly convincing,” you muttered out, but let your head rest against his chest. You caught his left hand in yours and began to gently trace the golden edges of his knuckles and wrist. Your thumb brushed over the engraved gold strip on his ring finger he had gotten after your wedding. He still wore his ring most of the time, but when he was in the public eye and away from you, he wanted something that didn’t draw attention to you while also silently professing his love. It was for your protection and you understood that wholeheartedly. 

“Doll…” he said in response.

“No, I know,” you sighed softly. “Just please come back to me in one piece. And don’t do anything unnecessary.”

Alpine let out a loud meow that seemed sarcastic, if that was even possible. “I love you,” Bucky reminded you, though he didn’t need to. You knew that he did, unwavering and strong as always.

“I love you, too,” you replied, knowing that no matter what, your husband would find a way back to you. He always did. He was stubborn, something that seemed synonymous with the last name of Barnes. And that stubbornness had served him well numerous times over, always leading him back to you.

Over the years, both of you had changed. But you had changed together. Things were more mellow now than they used to be and you felt more concrete in your love for each other. It wasn’t wild and firey like it used to be when you were younger, but that was something both you and Bucky were okay with. 

“And remember,” you said as he reluctantly pulled himself away from you to go change into something not stained – you would take it upon yourself to clean his shirt, “you have to take Alpine to the vet in two days. She needs a shot, my poor baby.” You moved over to where the cat was lounging on the couch, right on top of the cushions, and gave her a few scratches behind her ears. Alpine let out a rumbling purr, leaning into your touch. Like father, like daughter, Bucky rationalised.

“Of course,” he replied, changing course to step over to you. He didn’t want to get dressed if you were standing there, looking like that. His nose bumped into yours and as his scruff tickled your cheek, he kissed you like he always did; that was one thing that hadn’t changed over your years together: he was still a starved man when it came to you.

...thinking of making this a mini-series. Thoughts?

[miryum]

yall, i just saw Thunderbolts* and it awoke something in me again. I've been an avid reader of bucky fics for the longest time and he was actually the first character I wrote for (but don't go looking cause its ass), but i wanna try again so expect something soon

[miryum]

🥹🥹🥹🥹

body image issues be damned (yes, he knows that your feelings are very valid and you’re working on it and he’s doing his best to help you thru it but gawd damn he’s going to ogle at you regardless)

the way your shirt clings onto the curve of your soft stomach, to your chest— the way your favorite pants hug your ass and thighs and you just look so fucking good. the way his shirt clings to your wide hips is downright erotic, how your thighs flatten and strain against the fabric of your thigh highs when you sit is magnificent.

it always makes him feel like a damn dog drooling over a bone when he looks at you but he can’t help it, a husband can ogle at his partner, yes? it’s not a crime to have a very close look, or two— or three…

is there really anything better than watching the way the fabric of your oversized t-shirt (or his rather) drapes perfectly over your body when you’re reaching for something? showing off the supple shape of your chest and tummy, like you were carved out of stone by an old master in aphrodite’s exact image. he couldn’t think of a lovelier sight, well, actually— ditch the clothes and it’d be even better.

simon loves— downright adores days when you’re feeling yourself. when your curves are met with pride rather than scorn, when you feel your clothes accentuate rather than hide. when you see yourself the way that simon does, every. single. day. do you get it now, love? that admiration and pride you feel for yourself is what he feels whenever he’s blessed with the sight of you.

do you understand how lucky he is, to be privileged enough to see this everyday? he adores you, all, of you— no matter what you happen to feel that day, his own feelings never change.

does the beauty of stargazing ever wane? how about the sunrise over the beach? or the sight of a field full of flowers in spring? or the feeling of sunshine and wind on your face, does that ever get boring? didn’t think so.

he loves you. you’re so different than him, your soft curves and lovely body— perfect to hold against all his hard corners and sharp edges. loves the sight of his hands gripping your hips and tummy, plush filling the space between his fingers in a downright sinful way.

one of his favorite things to do is just kneel between your thighs and shove his face into your tummy. it scratches some primal part of his brain leftover from when humans had to hunt and gather to survive and just discovered fire, comforts it—warm, soft equals safety and life in his mind.

(not to mention there’s been a long running severe lack of comfort in his life. from childhood all the way to adulthood, it’s been nothing but him struggling to survive— to hold the line against death for another day. but with you, he can just. be. he’s not ghost, or lieutenant or anything of the sort with you. in your arms he’s just simon— or si if you’re feeling extra loving that day. he couldn’t be grateful enough in his eyes.)

there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to prove the sheer magnitude of his love for you, no matter what you look like.

[miryum]

In honour of the Great Gatsby turning 100 today 🥰🍾🥳

Always in All Ways (Mattheo Riddle x Reader) Great Gatsby AU

Warnings: angst!!!! (but a happy ending) Reader wears a dress (once) cause it’s the 20s. Talk of kids and a future together. For the sake of incest, we’re gonna ignore the fact that Enzo and Mattheo are half brothers… And if you squint, there could be a sign of domestic abuse (but it is so little there that I'm not sure if you can call it that). Reader is married (not to Mattheo at first) and it's not technically cheating.... it's hard to explain. As always, swearing. Not entirely proof-read, but will get it done soon

Lorenzo Berkshire had moved into a gated, two story house, surrounded by a thick forest. The neighbourhood he had moved into was affectionately called Diadem East. 

Diadem East was surrounded by a large bay, which, in turn, separated it from Diadem West. Diadem East and Diadem West were similar in the fact that they were obscenely rich. Even though both had enough wealth to buy the island of New York, Diadem West looked down on Diadem East because of generational wealth. Diadem West had come from old money - long lines of families that treated life like a simple game of chess and they could move others like pawns. Diadem East were those who only recently came into money and spent it freely and without care.

Lorenzo had moved to Diadem East in hopes of getting away from his overbearing parents, and it helped that his cousin lived right across the bay in Diadem West. 

Y/n Pucey was a recent newlywed to Adrian Pucey. Lorenzo hadn’t been able to make it to the wedding, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see his baby cousin married to a man fifteen years older than her. Y/n had always been Lorenzo’s favourite cousin; she was a bubbling, carefree girl, probably due to the fact that from birth, she had no restrictions with her father’s money. Now that she was married to the pretentious Pucey family, Lorenzo doubted she was familiar with the word ‘no’. 

What Lorenzo did doubt, however, was Y/n’s happiness. He remembered a time, back when she was nineteen, that he had visited her over summer break. She told him tales of a man that had captured her heart. Lorenzo remembered how Y/n’s eyes gleamed and her cheeks burned with her extensive smiling. He remembered laughing with Y/n in the sunroom, saying, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so happy.”

“I’m in love, Enzo,” she had replied simply. 

Needless to say, Lorenzo couldn’t wait to see his cousin again. He also couldn’t wait to return to a normal sleep schedule, given that his new neighbour wouldn’t stop having parties every single night that blasted light and music into Lorenzo’s bedroom window. It wasn’t until Thursday at four pm when a butler knocked on Lorenzo’s back door, holding a silver plate with a letter positioned on it. “Can I help you?” Enzo asked slowly, leaning on the door frame.

“Mister Riddle requests your presence on Friday night for a party he is throwing,” the butler said. 

“Mister… Riddle?” Enzo reiterated. “I’m sorry, who?”

“Your neighbour, Mister Mattheo Riddle,” the butler explained. “He wanted to welcome you into the neighbourhood.”

“Right,” Enzo trailed off. “I’ll be there.”

“Mister Riddle looks forward to making your acquaintance.”

****

The next day, Enzo drove up to Diadem West, the hilltop Pucey Manor looming over everything. As soon as Enzo finished driving up the winding gravel road, the front door swung open dramatically. Y/n stood there, arms flung wide. “Darling Enzo!” she squealed. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!” 

“My sweet cousin!” Enzo called back, bounding up the steps. He whirled Y/n up in his arms, swinging her back and forth, much to her delight. Her sundress flared around them in a swirling dance. “How have you been?”

“Lively,” Y/n answered simply. “How are those back home? You must tell me everything.”

Enzo flung his head back and said dramatically, “they miss you dearly, loving cousin. When I passed through town, everyone wept when they heard I was to see you. Jealous men came running down from their houses and begged me to take them with you. Mothers sobbed and cried out how they wished their daughters would turn out like you. Children dashed through the streets, racing after my carriage with joy.”

“They did?” Y/n beamed, gripping onto Enzo’s arms. “I do miss them, you know. Perhaps I should visit next summer.”

“They would all love to see you,” Enzo stated plainly. “Yet I have a question for you. Do you know of-”

“Lorenzo Berkshire,” a voice boomed from the front door. “What��s a man like you doing in these parts?”

Enzo stared up at Adrian Pucey, the esteemed husband of Y/n. “Adrian,” Enzo peeled himself away from Y/n and sauntered up the steps. “It’s nice to see you again.” He held out his hand for the man to shake.

“Get in here, good pal.” Adrian clapped Enzo’s hand and pulled him into a rough hug. Enzo let out a huff of air as he collided with Adrian’s chest. “Wonderful to see you as well. Tell me, how’s the stock business going?” Adrian placed a nonnegotiable hand on Enzo’s shoulder and led him inside the Pucey mansion. Y/n let out a noise of surprise and hurried in after them, determined not to be left behind. 

“Good, good.” Enzo made senseless conversation with Adrian as he tried to take in the curated house he was in. All the doors and windows were open, letting in a soft breeze and the stinging smell of the bay water. The curtains fluttered around Y/n as she walked, her eyes cautiously on her cousin and husband. No matter how she acted, Lorenzo knew of the whip sharp mind that Y/n had.

“And you know where he’s living, Adrian?” Y/n cut in, moving to recline gracefully on the settee. “In Diadem East!” 

Adrian’s brows rose and he turned to Enzo as the men sat on the couch. “Why not buy a house here? Hell, you’re welcome to stay in our guest room. Anything for a relative.”

“No, please.” Enzo held a hand up. “I’m perfectly fine on my own and I don’t want to intrude. It’s a nice, cosy house looking over the bay. In fact, if I look towards the right, I can see the end of your pier.”

“Really?” Y/n lit up, head turning towards Enzo. “How sweet. It’s almost as if we’re neighbours.”

“Speaking of neighbours,” Enzo took this opportunity to ask, “my own seems to be very eccentric.”

Adrian chuckled and poured himself some whiskey. “How so? Do you want any?” He gestured to the whiskey.

“No, but thank you.” Enzo adjusted in his seat and crossed his legs. “My neighbour throws these obscene parties almost every single night. I’m convinced that if it weren’t for the trees, I wouldn’t be able to get any sleep.” Y/n stretched out her legs and leaned her head back until it was resting on the arm of the chair. “But the oddest thing happened - he invited me to one tonight.”

“Really?” Adrian sipped his drink. “And who is this poseur?”

“A Mister Riddle.”

Y/n’s lips parted and, almost in slow motion, her eyes flickered to Lorenzo before going back to staring out the window to the gleaming blue water outside. “Riddle?” she murmured. Adrian glanced at her and Enzo’s brows furrowed. “I mean, there must be a thousand Riddles… why, in fact, just last month, I was introduced to a Ryder. Which is like Riddle, I guess.”

“Y/n, are you alright?” Enzo asked softly.

“Yes, are you well?” Adrian added on.

“I’m sure I’m fine,” Y/n said. “Perhaps just lightheaded. I’m going to go lay down now.” Her hand flit to her collarbone where a small chain was tucked under her dress.

“Okay.” Enzo stared after her, admittedly worried about his cousin, before standing and adjusting his suit. “Well, I'm afraid I have to go. Mustn’t be late to this fellow’s party.”

“Of course.” Adrian stood as well, in common courtesy, knowing that the two men had nothing in common or nothing to do with each other without Y/n as the mediator. “Riddle…” the man muttered. “I could’ve sworn I heard that name somewhere.”

“It’s a common name, you know.” Enzo chuckled as he swiped out the door. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Adrian closed the door behind Enzo almost as an afterthought.

****

“What do you want, my darling? Anything you wish and I will make it happen.”

“I’m happy with just you, Matty.”

“That’s not a good enough answer, and you know it. Now, I’m going to ask again: what do you want?”

“… I… I want a big house. Overlooking the water so our kids can play in the water.”

“Our kids, hm?”

“Oh, yes, Matty. Our kids.”

“Alright. And what else?”

“Hmm… and a big ballroom that we can dance in. And all the paintings will be our favourites. And big parties for every occasion. Perhaps a pool. Or a sunroom. And the largest bedroom ever.”

“Is that all?”

“As long as I have you, Matty, that’s all I ask.”

****

While everyone else arrived to Riddle’s party in new and shining cars, Enzo simply walked. People of all backgrounds were streaming in the doors and Enzo was pushed into the unrelenting mob of partygoers. Enzo shoved his way to the first butler he saw and presented his invitation. “Uh, yes. I have this invitation here…” 

The butler glanced down at the letter and said stoically, “you needn’t one.”

“Pardon?” Enzo had never been to a party where he didn’t need to be invited. 

“The guests come and go as they please - per Mister Riddle’s orders.”

“Alright,” Enzo pursed his lips together and nodded awkwardly. “Thank you. Do you know where I could find Mister Riddle?”

“No, sir,” the butler replied. “He likes to socialise with his attendees and be in the throng of things. He likes to make sure that everyone is comfortable and having a good time.”

Enzo hummed and nodded in thanks before allowing himself to be swept up in the current. He was carried further into the opulent mansion and Lorenzo needed to remind himself to close his mouth at the palatial nature of it all. 

Practically every surface was plated with gold or made of marble. The ballroom opened up to a balcony that overlooked a large pool which was currently populated with dozens of people. On the other side of the ballroom, a large sunroom was occupied by a throng of people, cigarette smoke wisping up through the open roof. The stars were obscured by not only the smoke, but by the fact that every light in the mansion was turned on. Marble stairs led down to another open room which held a stage and a band whose music filtered up throughout the rooms. Congressmen, celebrities, and random people off the street were packed into the house, booze and drugs were passed around and waiters tried to filter through the crowd to hand out refreshments and food.

As he passed, Enzo heard tidbits of conversations about their host. “Did you know he was a bootlegger?”

“No, no, I heard he fought in the last war.”

“Well, whatever it is, it’s all terribly romantic.”

“Well, I thought that he was chasing a girl-”

Enzo managed to fight his way to the balcony and snag a glass of champagne on his way. He sighed in relief at finding a bubble of air to himself. A man dressed in a finely pressed suit jostled into him and quickly apologised. “Terribly sorry, old friend,” the man said. “I didn’t see you there. It’s a rowdy party tonight, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Enzo replied loudly. “Is it usually like this?”

“Unfortunately,” the man grinned. “Although few frequent. I always find that many people come once and then never return.”

“You seem like you know an awful lot about Mister Riddle’s parties. Do you come here often?”

“Yes,” the man tsked. “As hard as I try, I can’t pull myself away from this old mansion. Something always draws me back. Did you know that Mattheo Riddle built this house from scratch?”

“I did not.”

“Yes,” the man laughed, his lips curing up. “Of course, he didn’t build the actual thing, but he bought the land and drew up the blueprints years ago. Six, to be exact.”

“Why is that?”

“No one knows for sure. There’s a lot of rumours circulating around Riddle.”

Enzo shouted over the music, “I was actually invited by Mister Riddle himself. But his butler seemed surprised by that.”

“Yes, it is very rare that one is personally invited to these gatherings.”

“Do you know where I could find him? Mister Riddle, I mean.” Enzo took a sip of his champagne.

The man laughed again and raised his own champagne glass. A smirk coiled up on his face and he said simply, “why, you’re talking to him, old friend. I am Mattheo Riddle.”

The party noise faded in Enzo’s ears. “Oh. I’m so sorry.” His hand shot out for Riddle to shake. “I didn’t mean to be rude. Pardon me, Mister Riddle.”

Mattheo Riddle shook Enzo’s hand, still grinning. His eyes held a mix of anticipation and happiness. Those who were close to Mattheo Riddle - which, really, was no one - had never seen such joy on Mattheo’s face. “Oh, call me Riddle. Or better yet, Mattheo. I feel as if I already know you, old friend. And, seeing as we’re neighbours, I hope to get to know you even better. How would you like to join me in my study?”

Enzo raised a brow and cliched his champagne fluke. “May I ask what for?”

“Oh, well, to tell you my life story, after all.” Mattheo clapped a hand on Enzo’s shoulder, much like Adrian had hours earlier. But unlike Adrian, Enzo found himself agreeing to go along with this man he only met today. 

Mattheo led Enzo down the hallway and nodded to a butler who was standing guard over an oak door. The butler opened the door up to Mattheo’s study, which was more of a library. The library was a much different aesthetic than the rest of the house. While the mansion next to Enzo’s little cottage was energetic and extravagant, Mattheo’s library was dark and cosy. Instead of gold and marble, it was made of oak and the flickering flames of candles.

“An impressive collection,” Enzo commented, glancing around the room at the rows of books.

“Why, thank you,” Mattheo replied. “It overlooks the bay, you see?” He pointed towards the window that, true to his word, was directly facing the large water. 

Enzo peered out the window and huffed a laugh when he saw Y/n’s house staring back at him. “That’s my cousin's house,” Enzo glanced back at Mattheo to see his gaze locked on the Pucey mansion. 

“I know,” Mattheo said quietly. 

“You know?” Lorenzo repeated questioningly. 

“Yeah,” Mattheo nodded. “You’ve heard rumours of me.” It wasn’t a question. Before Enzo could answer, Matthei continued, “but I can assure you, only one of those is true, old friend. I am… a helpless romantic.” Mattheo chuckled lowly, a sad layer in his eyes. Instead of sitting behind his large desk, Mattheo opted to lounge on a couch and Enzo sat in a loveseat next to him. 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“About… eight years ago I met this girl. God, she was absolutely perfect.” Mattheo gazed out at Diadem West. “I have been bereft of her for so many years… And I finally hope to make it up to her. I’ve become the man that will be good enough for her archaic parents.”

“Where did you meet her?” Enzo asked quietly.

“I was visiting her hometown one day, eight years ago. And I just…” Mattheo took a moment to wet his chapped lips. “She had all other eyes on her. She was simply walking down the street, yet she drew everyone to her. And when I was blessed enough to hold her in my arms… to kiss her lips is better than heaven.”

“May I guess her name?” Enzo’s smile grew larger. “Is this lovely, captivating woman my cousin, Y/n Pucey?”

“How did you know?” Mattheo’s voice was airy and wistful.

“Many men have tripped over their feet just to take a glance at my cousin. She is not only beautiful, holding the Berkshire genes, but witty, magnetic, and gentle.” Enzo finished his champagne and lit a cigar that Mattheo had offered him. “And, well, she might have mentioned you once or twice. She was in love with you when she was nineteen. Perhaps she still is.” Mattheo’s eyes snapped to Enzo. “Then she was married to Adrian Pucey. Honestly, I’m a little surprised that you’re living right across from her.”

“Yes, I’m aware of all that,” Mattheo stated. “But nothing has been an accident, Mister Berkshire. There’s a reason why I host parties every weekend, why I keep the lights on every night, why my home is directly across from hers, and why you, her cousin, is renting next to me.”

Enzo scrutinised this stranger across from him. “You’re obsessed with my cousin,” he stated, somewhat disgustedly. 

“No,” Mattheo whispered. “I’m in love with your cousin. I have always been in love with her - in all ways. And she is me. Mention my name around her and you’ll see.”

“I have,” Enzo admitted. “She looked as if she’d seen a ghost. But she also looked guilty, Riddle. She’s married. She has a life. She wants children.” Mattheo’s jaw jumped as Enzo continued, “you can’t rip her away from that. It’s been years, Riddle. She hasn’t seen you for years.”

“I know…” Mattheo trailed off. “But just to see her again would fulfil any wish of mine. I have a vow I need to make due on. I- uh, I was wondering if you could invite her over for tea. And I could drop by. Just one day.” Mattheo’s eyes felt dry and he quickly blinked. 

Enzo sighed deeply and after a long moment, said, “okay. Tuesday? At three?”

A weight lifted off of Mattheo’s shoulders. He now had all the time in the world. In his eyes, everything was finally falling into place. Mattheo would finally get to be happy again. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”

****

Tuesday was outrageously cloudy. Lorenzo could hardly see the sun as he drove back to his house. As he pulled into his driveway, he came to see an ostentatious green Rolls-Royce convertible that was blocking his drive. Enzo stared defeatedly at the car for a long moment, knowing exactly whose it was. 

Mattheo Riddle leaned on the hood and proceeded to wave at Enzo as if the man wasn’t hours too early to tea. 

“You have a watch, don’t you?” Enzo called out, getting out of his car. 

“I couldn’t wait,” Mattheo admitted. “I had nothing else to do today - well, that’s not true. I in fact cancelled some meetings that were set to take place today, but no worries.”

“You cancelled - you know what? Nevermind. Look, Riddle, I sure hope you know what you’re doing. Y/n… she’s changed from when you met her.” Enzo couldn’t look at his neighbour as he unlocked his door. Mattheo followed in after him, glancing around courteously, as if the real reason he was here wasn’t sending waves of nerves through his stomach. Enzo glanced back at Mattheo and moved to the kitchen to make some tea. Mattheo followed after him, his gait slow. “She used to believe that she could live any way she wanted,” Enzo continued. “But then she met Adrian.”

“Hm.” Mattheo made a low noise in his throat, fingers reaching out to play with the teacups that hung from a shelf. 

“She’s not… unhappy with Adrian,” Enzo tried to explain. “But she’s putting her happiness aside for the grandeur of life.” 

“I could give her that grandeur,” Mattheo muttered. 

“Do you know how people back home would treat her if they found out she got divorced from Adrian Pucey just to marry a man who is rumoured to be a bootlegger?” Enzo asked, aghast. He roughly swallowed and said quietly, “I’m sorry. That was out of line.” 

“No, no,” Mattheo waved him off, still seemingly fascinated by Enzo’s teacups. “It’s perfectly in line. You make a valid point. Though I can assure you, I am not a bootlegger. Far from it.”

“Then what is your line of work?” 

“Never you mind. When is Y/n coming?” Mattheo turned to Enzo, changing the topic at an alarming speed. The teacups were long forgotten.

Enzo exhaled and dunked a teabag in the teapot. “She said she’ll be arriving around three. However, that means that she’ll either be arriving at two-fifteen on account of wanting to escape Adrian, or she’ll arrive at four-thirty because Adrian needs something from her.”

“Let’s hope it’s the former,” Mattheo growled.

As if on cue, the two men heard the rumbling of a car approaching. The air in the room stilled. Mattheo’s face dropped and he turned pale, staring at the door. They heard Y/n’s honey voice call out, “Lorenzo!” Enzo quickly came to his senses and rushed to open the door. Y/n was driving up, waving her hat enthusiastically in one hand. A smile split on Enzo’s face as he rushed over to help her out of her car. “I must say, I was wary when you asked me to visit without Adrian,” Y/n chatted as Enzo escorted her into the house. “I couldn’t possibly think of anything you would need from me.”

“Can’t I just ask you over for tea?” Enzo chuckled. “Does everything I do need malicious intent?”

“Based on your past, yes.”

Enzo rolled his eyes playfully. After he took Y/n’s coat and hat, his eyes darted around his house, but he couldn’t find one trace of Mattheo anywhere. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll… I’ll grab the tea,” Enzo muttered. He moved to his kitchen, and seeing his back door ajar, he shoved it open. “Where are you going?!” he cried out to Mattheo who was currently halfway across the lawn.

Mattheo spun back to Enzo, fear deeply rooted in his expression. “I can’t,” he whispered after he jogged back to Enzo. “I can’t do it. You’re absolutely right. She... she has a life. And probably doesn’t even remember me. It would be cruel to subject her to such emotions. I don’t want to cause her any harm.”

Enzo shook his head. “I will not have invited my cousin to tea under false pretences,” he said slowly and firmly. “You owe this to her,” he added. 

A droplet of rain fell from a passing cloud and fell faster and faster until it splattered on Mattheo’s wrist. The water was absorbed by the cuff of Mattheo’s shift, but a small bit of the water rolled down onto his hand and drifted its way down to Mattheo’s ring finger. A thin gold band sat snug there. “Do you know what a pyrrhic victory means?” 

“Yes.” Enzo frowned inquisitively. “It’s victory that cost the victor more than it did the defeated. But what does that have to do with Y/n?”

“My love for Y/n has cost me everything,” Mattheo muttered. “But she is everything. I'm used to people hating me for my wealth and how reserved I am. What I'm used to isn't people's love. And now, my love is with Y/n and I'm not letting anyone ruin that or take it away from me.” More raindrops began falling from the sky until a gentle pitter-patter could be heard all around them.

“So why don’t you come in and tell her that?” Enzo asked, gesturing towards his door. 

Mattheo’s jaw jumped but he nodded, giving in. He shuffled through the door and into the living room where Y/n sat. Enzo grinned to himself and shut the door behind them before hearing Y/n gasp and the sound of a glass breaking. Enzo cursed to himself, knowing one of his precious teacups had now lost its life.

“M- Matty?” Y/n murmured, eyes wide. “Oh- oh, dear.” She stared down at the broken teacup on the carpet and bent down, hands shuddering. Mattheo crouched down as well, maintaining eye contact with Y/n the entire way. Y/n shook her head and focused on cleaning up her mess. Enzo noticed her whole body was trembling and he took a step forward as if to console her. Mattheo beat him to the punch. He grasped her forearms and helped her up, leaving the teacup behind. Y/n sniffed and repeated, “Matty?”

“Yeah, darling. It’s me,” Mattheo murmured, stepping closer to her. His hold on her arms softened and his cheek brushed against her forehead. 

Y/n exhaled shakily. “What are you doing here?” she whispered, tipping her head to lean into a more intimate position with Mattheo. Enzo slid out of the room, smirking faintly.

“I live next to Enzo,” Mattheo said, neither one bothering to look for Y/n’s cousin. 

Y/n chuckled humourlessly. “Tell me the real reason, Matty. I know you better than this.”

Mattheo smiled - the truest smile Enzo had ever seen on his neighbour’s face (not that Enzo was watching from the next room) - and leaned down to bump his nose against hers. “I could never hide anything from you. Not that I ever would, but I digress.” Mattheo reached down and gently lifted Y/n’s hand to his lips. He pressed featherlight kisses along her fingertips and confessed, “a year after you married Adrian, I built a house across the bay. The mansion whose windows are alight every single night with fireworks going off every weekend… that’s me, darling. Trying to get you to even glance over at me. Renting the neighbouring cabin to your cousin… that’s me. Every little detail, down to my car, is so I can see you again.”

“You did all that for me?” Y/n ran a soft thumb over Mattheo’s jawline, making the man shiver. 

“And I will do so much more,” Mattheo promised. “I am yours, my love. Always in all ways.”

****

Y/n sat curled in Mattheo’s lap. The pair was under a tree on a picnic blanket, far from the L/n Villa. “I’m sorry I couldn’t spend my birthday with you, Matty,” Y/n murmured to him. “I know you had a surprise for me.”

“It’s alright, darling,” Mattheo whispered back, dragging his fingers through Y/n’s hair. “I know nineteen is a monumental birthday for your family.”

“But now you have me all to yourself,” Y/n lightly laughed, turning to grin at her lover. “What was the surprise you had for me? You’ve been awfully suspicious these past few days, Matty.”

Mattheo hummed, looking to the sky and rhythmically tapping his fingers against you. “Well, I don’t know, my love,” he teased. “What could I possibly get the most perfect girl for her birthday?” After your protests, he continued, not before kissing your temple. “I got you my heart,” he whispered. Out from his pocket, he pulled a thin chain. Dangling teasingly from the chain was a golden ring. “So I can be with you always,” Mattheo explained quietly. 

Tears pricked at Y/n’s eyes as she gently took the necklace from him and thread the chain through her fingers. “You… you’re being serious right now?” Her focus was drawn to Mattheo’s own ring finger, where she noticed a new, immortal band lay proudly. “Are you…?”

“Only for you,” Mattheo reassured her. “Don’t worry. It’s my way of showing my devotion.” He twisted the necklace around her neck, clipping it there. 

“Only for me?”

“Always in all ways,” Mattheo vowed.

****

Y/n frequented outings with her friends much more often as of late. Adrian only sent Y/n away with a half-committed kiss on the cheek and eyes fixated on his golfing or his business contracts. Y/n would get in her car (or Enzo’s if he was feeling nice), and drive down to Mattheo’s mansion. Most days, there would be other cars there, waiting for Riddle’s house to open to party. They would be carrying booze and wearing all fashions of clothes, and when they would walk up to his door only to be turned away, they would pout and groan. Mattheo’s house wasn’t blazing his lights anymore, nor were there any fireworks crackling each weekend. His car was kept parked in his garage and his smile was constant. 

The first time Y/n had gone over to Mattheo’s mansion, so conveniently and coincidentally located across from hers, she had been in awe. “It’s exquisite!” she had exclaimed. She had run all over the house, marvelling at the floors and the ceilings, dragging Mattheo along behind her. Mattheo laughed loudly, his joy echoing off the walls. Of course, all of the art decorating his walls was accented to Y/n’s taste and the colour palette was exactly as Y/n had hoped for all those years ago. 

“Dance with me,” she beckoned Mattheo one day, already spinning on the deserted dance floor. Mattheo would lock the doors to his manor and keep out the partiers forever and always if it meant he could see Y/n on his dance floor, waiting for him. 

Mattheo stared at her, his eyes bright with love. He swept her up in his arms, pressing her close, and they danced to nonexistent music. Y/n rested her head on Mattheo’s chest and whispered, “this is nice.”

“This is very nice, indeed. I hope to do it more often.”

Y/n’s fingers gripped onto Mattheo’s shoulders. “Matty…” she whispered. “You know my feelings for you. But I- Adrian-”

“Please don’t speak his name,” Mattheo pleaded. “And I know about him. But I don’t care about him. Please tell me you don’t care about him either.”

“He is my husband, Mattheo.”

“That doesn’t mean you care about him.” Y/n took a breath and stepped slowly back from Mattheo. His mouth parted slowly and desperation filled his eyes. His hands reached out in anguish. “Please, my love. Don’t do this.”

“I will never love him as much as I love you,” Y/n clarified gently. “But I don’t hate him, either. Over the years, I have come to care for him. It’s a complicated feeling, Mattheo, I’m sure you understand.”

“Marry me,” Mattheo suddenly declared. “I promise, my dearest, I will give you all and more.”

“It’s not fair to Adrian,” Y/n protested, her hands dropped to her sides. “We don’t live in a life where one can just divorce their spouse to pursue another. You know of the rigidity and the silent rules that if we don’t follow, the exile we face.”

“Exile of what?” Mattheo cried, helplessness in his voice. “You can move in here. I can give you the life we dreamed of.”

“The life I dreamed of included my parents and my loved ones,” Y/n objected. “Not an isolated life with only one of the many I love.”

“Anyone you love can come visit you if they want,” Mattheo offered. “I won’t push anyone away. I just want you.”

“You know they won’t visit,” Y/n’s voice broke. “You know people will ridicule us. And I am so sorry, Matty, but I don’t know if I could live with that.” Mattheo didn’t speak for a long moment, staring at Y/n’s neck. “What’s wrong?” she eventually demanded. “Do I have something on my collar?”

“No,” Mattheo murmured softly. “It’s just… you kept it.” He pointed to Y/n’s neck and reached out to finger the chain around Y/n’s neck. The woman couldn’t help but shiver under his light touch. “You kept it,” he repeated. Carefully, as if afraid he might break her, Mattheo lifted the hidden necklace that was tucked under Y/n’s dress. “My ring.”

“I couldn’t bear to get rid of it,” Y/n’s breath hitched and she swallowed back tears. “I’ve never taken it off. Even- even on my wedding day.”

Beside himself, Mattheo chuckled, though it quickly turned to a gasp for breath. “So even when he made love to you, you always kept my ring around your neck?” Tears slipped down his cheeks and Y/n reached up to quickly wipe them away. 

“I don’t want you thinking about that,” Y/n muttered, shaking her head at the absurdness of it all. “Please… just be here with me.”

“I’m here,” Mattheo could hardly get a couple words out. He pulled her close to him and pressed a firm kiss on her forehead. “You still haven’t said no to my proposal.”

Y/n laughed loudly. “I didn’t think you were being serious.”

“With you, I am always serious,” Mattheo grinned, bending down to look her in the eye. “And that wasn’t an answer. Why are you avoiding the question, darling?”

Y/n sighed, a coy smile on her lips. “Would I simply leave Adrian? What of my things? Adrian would come looking for me, you know?”

“I would buy you whatever you’re missing a thousand times over.” Mattheo stared at Y/n, his eyes holding all the tenderness that a lover was supposed to have. “I would protect you and Adrian would never know where you are. He will never harm you, I promise.” 

Y/n tapped Mattheo’s chest thrice and hummed. Mattheo’s heart fluttered and his lips brushed against her temple. Silently, he begged all the gods he knew of that Y/n would agree to be with him. His lips moved wordlessly, pleading, before Y/n said, “I will call you tomorrow, Matty. I’m sure Adrian already knows of our endeavours, but give me one night to collect my thoughts. Can you give me that much?”

“Of course, my love. Whatever you need.” He kissed Y/n’s forehead again. “Always in all ways.”

“Always in all ways,” Y/n repeated.

****

“Where are you going?”

Y/n’s shoulders tensed and she slowly turned around to face Adrian. A packed bag was on her bed. “Enzo, the sweetling cousin he is, invited me to stay with him,” she said. “I thought it would be fun to spend a night in East Diadem. To see how others live.”

“You? In East Diadem?” Adrian chortled a laugh. “And why, pray tell, would you do that?” 

“Because I love my cousin,” Y/n reiterated firmly. “Are you forbidding me to see my family?”

Adrian’s head hung and he shook his head. “I may be rich, but I’m not stupid.” He hesitated before stating, “I know about Riddle.”

“My old friend?” Y/n asked smoothly. “Yes, he was a friend of Enzo’s. That’s how I met him, you know.” She cleared her throat and zipped up her bag. 

“You’re fucking him, aren’t you?” Adrian then suddenly shouted out, his hair flying out of place and his face turning red. “He’s fucking my wife, that bastard! Why, I should- I outta- you bitch!” He growled and whirled around, dragging a hand through his hair. 

“Adrian.” Y/n held up her hands, trying to soothe his emotions. It was the only way she learned how. “I haven’t been unfaithful to you, I promise. I made a vow on our wedding day and I have since upheld it.”

Adrian grunted and demanded, “so tell me you love me.”

Y/n swallowed. “I- I love you, Adrian. Just not in the way you want me to.”

Her husband let out a yell of frustration and slammed his hands down on the back of an armchair. Y/n flinched. After a tense moment, he hissed out, “go, then. Leave me.” His voice rose to a crescendo and he shouted out, “but know that I will never let you back into this life again! No one will ever let you step inside Diadem West without rumours and hatred trailing behind you.” He let his voice drop and as Y/n shuffled back, he raised his head and looked at her, pleadingly. “I want to make you stay,” Adrian whispered. “I want to tell you all the ways I love you. But… But I think we both know I can’t.” He took a step towards her and held a hand out as if he wanted to cup her face in his palm. “You are so beautiful, Y/n,” he muttered. “But he makes you feel alive. You- you deserve that.”

“So do you, Adrian,” Y/n choked out. 

“I know,” he nodded once, conceding. “I know.”

****

It took four weeks for Y/n to officially move into the house across the bay. Immediately, she had sought out her cousin and stayed with him for some time. She spent many of those days sitting out on the lawn, staring out to the bay and her old house. Her hair would whip across her face and sometimes, Mattheo would come and sit a couple feet away from her, not saying a word. Mattheo knew she was experiencing the eroding feeling of guilt. He didn’t dare disturb her thoughts if, eventually, it would lead to him. What’s a couple more weeks when he had been waiting years?

Then, one day, Y/n turned towards Mattheo and said, “you promised to love me always and in all ways.” 

Mattheo’s head whipped toward her. The shame in his eyes was deep. “Yes,” he uttered.

“I think I’m ready to take you up on your offer.” 

Mattheo broke into a smile.

A year later, the pair was married. The band that had been around Y/n’s neck was now around her finger. Y/n’s parents refused to attend and she had spent the night crying in Mattheo’s arms. Enzo had taken the place of her father and walked her down the aisle. The wedding was sparse and while Mattheo’s aunt had come to offer her congratulations, as had one of Y/n’s old friends, the couple knew that their life would be a lonely one until they either made new friends or Y/n’s old friends in Diadem West came around. But they were happy. 

Grand parties weren’t a frequent occurrence, though every month or so, Mattheo threw a celebration for an unimportant holiday, simply to show Y/n off. He finally had the pleasure to kiss her in a room full of people and not be ridiculed. However, parties weren’t needed. As long as Mattheo woke up with Y/n in his arms, he would call it the most wonderful day ever. 

And when years had passed and their children would move out to begin their own endeavours, the house would lay empty. After decades had gone by and the mansion was simply a statement of extravagant wealth and the jubilance of society, people would wander in the house, marvelling at the gold and marble. Whispers would echo the hallways of the great love story that transpired within its walls. A large, dusty old portrait of the couple still hung above the fireplace, their eyes holding as much love as there was water in the bay.

[miryum]

"Jason and Y/n"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy’s relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Chapter Warnings: Rose is a bit meaner and vindictive than I made her last time. I didn’t wanna do that (cause be a girl’s girl) but unfortunately, the plot had to plot). Bomb, reader wears makeup, reader has a bit of a breakdown but its all okay, drinking

Series Masterlist

It was the week before Y/n and Jason’s wedding and everyone was sitting in the briefing room. Dick was at the podium, looking over his notes when Damian asked, “is this gonna be the weekend we finally meet six-drink Jason?”

“Six-drink Jason?” Captain Wayne, who had just entered, repeated. “What does that mean?” 

“It is the pinnacle of the Todd drunkenness scale,” Damian explained, hiking his feet up on the table. “At one drink, Jason is only a little spacey.”

Jason was sitting in his apartment, Y/n at his side, and drinking a bottle of beer. Y/n hadn’t said anything when Jason’s head lolled to the side and he mumbled, “wait. What?”

“Two drinks: loud Jason.”

At a bar, Jason yelled into Dick’s ear, even though it was a quiet Tuesday night, “you want to get a cab?”

Damian grinned and continued, “three drinks is Jason Dancepants, as Stephanie so affectionately coined it.”

Jason was attempting the running man.

“Four-drink Jason is a bit of a pervert,” Damian admitted. Y/n hummed in agreement and Jason looked over at her, scandalised.

“Hey,” Jason whispered throatily to Y/n three years before they were dating. “Check it out.” He pulled up his shirt to show off his abs. Y/n snorted and alcohol came out of her nose.

“Finally, five-drink Jason is oddly confident,” Damian finished.

“Let's do this, little man,” Jason taunted Tim, both very inebriated and both having found a doorframe to do their pull-ups on. 

“But I've never seen six-drink Jason,” Damian mused. “Maybe he’s the one I could actually be friends with. My sasquatch.”

Jason shared a look with his sergeant (who was beaming) before sighing and sinking down into his chair.

Finally, after months of preparation, it was the day of the wedding. Y/n had spent most of her morning getting her hair and makeup ready with her bridesmaids. “I can’t wait,” she was gushing. “It's gonna be a perfect day.”

“Phone call for you, ma’am,” an attendant of the venue approached. 

“Ah, thank you. That would be the cake guy saying he has arrived. Hello?” She put the phone to her ear, everyone chattering around her. 

“Y/n L/n?” A garbled, automated voice spoke from the other end. 

“Yes?” Y/n’s face fell slightly, as if she knew what was coming. Cass, who was helping Stephanie apply eyeliner, took notice.

“There's a bomb at your wedding,” the voice warned. “It's set to explode at 5:30. Everyone inside will die.” The line went dead.

Y/n pressed her lips together. “So… that was not the cake guy.”

In the foyer of the venue, Y/n met up with a frantic Jason. “Okay, we called the bomb squad and got everyone out of the building. We should leave,” she told him. 

Jason was too discombobulated to even comment on how beautiful his fiancée looked, though that did not go unnoticed in the primal part of his brain. “Who would do something like this?” he asked, taking Y/n’s hand. He led her out of the building, a hand on the small of her back and placing himself in between her and the potentially dangerous building.

“Well, I clearly have an arch-nemesis,” Y/n babbled on, grinning and oblivious to Jason’s calculated move to keep her safe. “Finally! Must be someone I put away who's hell-bent on revenge. He's probably gonna make me choose between saving the city and saving the man I love. Little does he know, I can save both.” She blew Jason a kiss.

“How are you so calm right now?” Jason asked. Sure, they had both seen things in the field, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to become accustomed to violence. 

“I'm calm because there's not really a bomb,” Y/n said, facing Jason and placing a comforting hand on his chest. “I mean, if you're trying to kill someone, you don't call and give them a heads-up,” she rationalised.

“So you think they're just trying to scare us?”

Y/n shrugged. “Yeah, but it doesn't matter. The bomb squad's on their way. They'll do a quick sweep, find nothing, and split. This’ll become a funny story we work into our vows.” She practised, “Jason, there was a bomb at this wedding. Ya butt. Ya butt is da bomb.’”

“Please don't say that during the ceremony,” Jason said bluntly, looking down at the woman he loved more than life.

“Is it that you don't like wordplay or you don't want me to talk about your butt at all?” When Jason didn’t answer, Y/n moved on and scoffed. “What I don’t understand is how this guy even found out about the wedding.”

Something clicked in Jason’s head and he groaned, “the stupid engagement announcement Stephanie put in the paper! It had the time and location of the ceremony.”

Steph, who had overheard, came marching up and jabbed a finger at Jason. “I swear to god, be very careful about throwing around accusations like that, because if you're trying to say I somehow ruined Y/n’s wedding, then I'm gonna shoot myself in the foot!” she exclaimed. “So tread lightly,” she warned. 

“Just take it easy, Steph,” Y/n tried to calm everyone down. Thankfully, a couple of trucks with the GCPD logo pulled up. “Nothing is ruined. See? The bomb squad is already here.” A woman hopped out of a truck and placed a small robot on the ground. Y/n gasped loudly and clutched Jason’s arm. “And they brought a robot! This is exactly how I imagined my wedding would be when I was a kid,” she whispered out reverently.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice said, making the trio turn around. “Jason Todd.” There stood Rose Wilson.

Y/n’s demeanor instantly shifted. Through gritted teeth, she commented, “Jay, look. A person you dated is here on our wedding day. Isn’t that great?” Stephanie glared at Rose.

Jason, looking bamboozled, could only ask, “why?”

Rose crossed her arms and smiled at the couple. “This is my crew,” she said. “I now run the bomb squad. But seriously, don't worry,” she waved a hand through the air. “I'm a cop. I have a job to do, and I'm gonna do it professionally.”

“That's great,” Jason said thankfully. He placed an arm around Y/n’s waist. 

“I'm happy to hear that,” Y/n stated, lips pressing together.

Rose concluded, smile strained in a way that only fellow women could see, “meaning I will be doing a very thorough sweeping of the building. It's gonna take hours, so you should probably just cancel the wedding.” She nodded before waggling her fingers. “Anyway, congrats, you two.” She practically skipped away.

A while later, trucks still outside and guests milling about, Jason repeated to Y/n, “I can't believe this is happening.” 

“Don't worry,” Y/n tried to console him. “Why don’t we go check on Rose. I'm sure she's made a ton of progress.”

It turns out, Rose had not. “Nope,” she clicked her tongue. “We haven't even gone in yet. Still putting on the bomb suit. Yeah, my job is super dangerous,” she added, looking at Jason.

“There's no bomb!” Y/n insisted. “If they wanted us dead, they wouldn't have called first!”

“It's not always the bomber who calls,” corrected Rose which made Y/n internally seethe. “Maybe he had a young daughter, found a key to a secret room, came across some blueprints, felt guilty, and wanted to save your life.”

“Seems unlikely,” Y/n deadpanned.

Jason shook his head and hurried away from Rose. Y/n quickly followed, worried look on her face.”I think I know how to fix this,” she assured him, hands flying up to try and help anyway she could. “All we have to do is figure out who my arch-nemesis is, track him down, and get him to admit to Rose that there's no bomb. We still have three hours to save this wedding.”

“That's good,” Jason murmured out, staring down at Y/n. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, darling.”

“Were you able to trace the number that called in the threat?” Y/n asked back at the precinct, seeing Cass and Dick already hunched over a computer.

“Yep,” Dick said. “It was a burner, but they caught it pinging off a cell tower in Fort Greene one block away from the last known address of Julian Gregory Day.”

“Who?” Jason asked, having finished going to the bathroom.

Y/n grinned. “Julian Gregory Day. Also known as the Calendar Man. I arrested him for armed robbery a while back, and he got out of Arkham a year ago. He's got to be my arch-nemesis. He's definitely obsessed with me.”

“Just 'cause you arrested him?” Jason asked, drying his hands on his pants.

Y/n folded her arms and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Well…” She admitted, “we didn't have enough evidence against him at first, so let's just say I had to get a little creative.”

“You framed him?” Jason exclaimed.

“What? No,” Y/n huffed. “Jay, I went undercover and became best friends with him. And then he told me about his lymphoma, and we ran a 10K together, and then I arrested him.” She sucked in a breath. “He felt so betrayed. The trial was very emotional.” She pressed her lips together and even looked a little guilty.

“Alright,” Jason sighed. “Let's go talk to him.”

“Hey, great attitude, Jay!” Y/n complimented. “You're handling this really well.”

“Okay. Julian’s apartment is right over here,” Tim instructed a half hour later as he, Y/n, Jason, and Stephanine stood across the street from a building.

“This is exciting,” Y/n squealed. “We're gonna catch my arch-nemesis. Do you think he has a shrine of photos of me with the eyes scratched out?” she fantasised and Jason raised a brow. “Oh, man. That will be super upsetting and so cool!”

“I know, it's amazing,” Steph agreed and Tim also shared Jason’s concerned look. “But focus up. Let's do this.”

“Right.” Y/n squared her shoulders, a bulletproof vest thrown on haphazardly over jeans and one of Jason’s old sweaters. Her makeup was still perfect, but some strands were loosening from her hairstyle.

Out of the blue, Jason leaned over and kissed her firmly. “I love you,” he reminded her softly. Y/n let out a noise of surprise at the intensity of the kiss, but returned his declaration of love quietly.

A moment later, Tim knocked on the door of Julian Gregory Day’s apartment. “GCPD.”

An old lady opened the door after a minute. “Hello? Is there a problem?” her voice was cracking and kind. The apartment smelled like chocolate chip cookies.

“We're looking for Julian Gregory Day,” Steph piped up.

The old lady scrunched her eyebrows up. “Julian? He died a year ago.”

“What? What happened?” Y/n pushed forward, looking concerned.

The woman sighed. “Well, his lymphoma came back,” she explained. “But really, it was the loneliness that killed him. Somebody hurt him, and he just… couldn't make friends after that.”

Back outside, Y/n, looking shell-shocked, murmured, “so it seems like he died because of me. Just gonna lock that up in a little box in my brain and never ever open it.”

Jason rubbed a hand comfortingly up and down Y/n’s arm, but his mind was elsewhere. “Hey, do you remember Mitchell Mayo, that money launderer I arrested?” he commented. “He lives right around here too.”

“So?” Y/n asked, looking up at him. Tim was on the phone with Dick, updating him on the situation and Steph was tapping away on her phone.

“He hated me,” Jason said. “What if this is the work of my arch-nemesis and not yours?”

Y/n crossed her arms and stared her lover down. “So you're suggesting I'm not involved in this at all?” she sassed. “I mean, you hear yourself, right? That's a bit of a stretch.”

“Are you actually mad that someone might not hate you?”

“Yeah, I am, Jason!” the detective declared. Her eyebrows then shot up and she realised, “oh, wow, that's a bad color on me, isn't it?” With a grumble, she conceded, “alright, fine, we'll check out your guy and I'll be totally fine with it if it's him.”

“Oh, man, you got a whole shrine!” Y/n whined when the group got to Mitchell Mayo’s apartment. Tim had apprehended the man and was in the process of putting cuffs on him. A large mantle in the man’s bedroom housed everything from pictures of Jason to candles to maps. “Even the eyes are all scratched out!”

Jason wrapped an arm over Y/n’s shoulders, holding her tight for some comfort. “Babe, when we're married, we're gonna share everything. Bank accounts, health insurance, arch-nemeses,” he listed off.

“Aww, that's nice, Jay,” Y/n muttered. “But you don't have to say that.” She then turned to her bestie and slipped her a picture of herself that she had just in case this exact scenario happened. “Steph, will you put this picture of me up on the wall?”

“Copy that,” Steph agreed. “You want the eyes scratched out?”

“Uh, you know I do.”

Back at the wedding venue, Rose reported as she took her bomb suit off, “okay, Jason. I got through every room and I cleared them very fast, because I want you to be happy.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, but Jason asked, “can we get in the venue or not?”

“Not quite yet. There's one more vent we can't get into, and our snake cam broke. We got another one on the way. It'll be here in about six hours,” Rose estimated.

“What?” Jason blurted.

Y/n shook her head and said in a firm voice, “no. We need it now. People are already here. And Mitchell said there wasn’t anything.”

“I'm sorry,” Rose said, though it didn’t sound like she was very sorry at all. “The vent is very tight, and no one on my team can get into it. And we can’t trust someone who has a literal shrine to Jason.”

“I bet you have a shrine, you sick son of a–” Y/n was cut off by Stephanie announcing, “I'm going in.”

Y/n turned towards her friend. “What?”

“Look, this is all my fault,” Steph reasoned. “I put the announcement in the paper and ruined the day. And now I'm gonna be the one to fix it. Get ready, you two. I'm about to save this–” Inside, when Stephanie was all protected via a bomb suit and she had wiggled into the vent, a soft ticking sound had alerted her to a machine strapped to the metal. “Bomb! There's a bomb!”

“Damn it, Mitchell,” Y/n muttered to the perp. “Why'd you say there was no bomb?”

Mitchell shrugged and said, “because I wanted to kill Jason.”

Jason asked, “then why did you call in the threat?”

“I didn't,” Mitchell rolled his eyes in annoyance. “My daughter found my hidden room and discovered some blueprints.”

Before Rose could say anything, Y/n waved her hand in the woman’s direction. “Yes, fine, Rose. You were right,” she conceded. “Now can you please get the bomb out of the vent and dispose of it somewhere?”

“Honestly, I wish we could,” Rose said. “But it's too dangerous to move. We have to diffuse it onsite. I have to evacuate this entire block. It's gonna take all night.” This time, she actually looked a little apologetic. 

“Wait, so you're saying…” Jason couldn’t even finish the sentence, a hand holding his fiancée’s.

“Wedding's off,” Rose nodded. “For real, it's over.”

Back at the station, Steph found Y/n in the evidence room, sitting on a fold-out chair with her head in her hands. Her hair was coming down from the pins that had been placed in it hours earlier and her makeup needed retouching. “What am I going to do?” she whispered out, voice cracking when Stephanie crouched down in front of her.

“What do you mean, babes?” her friend asked softly.

Y/n hiccuped and said, “I’ve been trying to keep a strong front for Jason all day.” She pressed at her eyes, not wanting to cry with her mascara on. “But god, Steph, this is not how I envisioned my wedding day going at all. I wanted today to be perfect, but it’s the farthest thing from it.” She sniffed and Steph pulled her into a hug.

“It’ll be okay,” she tried to console her.

“How?” Y/n asked desperately. “We’ve spent a lot of money on this and I’m just– I’m tired. I feel like I have to be this perfect detective that’s here for the laughs and giggles, but it's hard.” Neither detective noticed Jason peek his head in, wondering where his love had gone. He stilled, listening to the conversation. “Jason just… he’s the best thing to ever happen to me, but I’m so scared I’ll either break down one day or I can’t spin a joke out of something or I can’t comfort him because I’d be feeling too awkward and he just… he realises how inadequate I am.” She let out a breath, either from relief that she had finally been able to say all that, or distress because she didn’t know how to fix it.

Jason stepped further into the evidence room and Stephanie noticed him. She stood and nodded, knowing that it was him Y/n needed at that moment. Jason kneeled down in front of Y/n and took her face in her hands. “Darling,” he whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t care if you’re laughing so much you shit yourself or if you’re crying so hard all I can do is hold you. You know why?” he asked softly. “Because I love you. And I will keep loving you until the end of time. Not even a casket can keep me away from loving you.” He gently rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks and murmured, “I know it seems like everything sucks, but why don't we just get married tomorrow? We won't have a venue or a band or any of our guests, but we could go to City Hall.”

Through the tears that were now definitely falling after Jason’s speech, Y/n huffed. “Jay, do you really want to get married in the same place people go to get restraining orders?”

“Y/n L/n, I would marry you any time, any place. I would marry you in the steaming filth of the Gotham River,” Jason pledged.

“Sweet,” Y/n shrugged. “But also gross.”

Jason let out a quiet laugh. “I would marry you on the L Train in the summertime when the air conditioning is broken.”

“Damn, really?” Y/n asked, brows scrunching together at the thought of her worst possible nightmare.

“I would marry you on top of the LexCorp Tower.”

“Well, that sounds kind of nice,” Y/n murmured, eyes drifting away from Jason. “Since he’s now in jail, you know.”

Jason added, a slight smirk on his face, “the one in Metropolis.”

“Oh, yeah, that's not good.” Y/n slapped her hands on her thighs and sighed. “Okay. City Hall it is.”

A voice shouted out, “no!” Stephanie ran into the room. “I was eavesdropping,” she announced. “I'm always eavesdropping. Look, I didn't spend the last, grueling seven years watching your love ripen, only to have it sullied by a City Hall wedding,” she glared at the couple. “You're getting married right here, right now!”

“What?”

Steph nodded in defiance and certainty. “Come on. This is happening. Jason and Y/n are getting married tonight.”

Jason’s eyes went wide as Y/n descended from the precinct stairs. “Wow.” Cass had helped her redo her hair and makeup and Steph had helped her into her dress. “You look stunning. Gorgeous,” Jason stuttered out. His hands went to her waist and pulled her closer. “Maybe you’re right – we should just skip the wedding and go on the honeymoon.”

Y/n laughed and smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

Stephanie peered around the corner, grinning. “Come on, you two! Let's go downstairs. It's wedding time!” The woman led them out of the precinct and outside. Lights had been strung up and Dick had taken three hours off his life to make a wedding arch with sheer white fabric draped over it. Chairs were set up on either side of an aisle and white flowers were scattered around. “So here it is,” Stephanie squealed. “I really really hope you like it.”

“Steph, it looks amazing,” Y/n had an awed smile on her face.

“It's beautiful,” Jason agreed.

“I even got live music,” Stephanie told them, grinning and pointing at none other than Harley Quinn.

Y/n let out a shriek and ran over to the criminal and her wife. Hugging both Harley and Pamela, she didn’t hear Jason quietly berate Stephanie for hiring two criminals. He was quickly shut up, however, when Harley picked up a violin and began playing. “Holy crap. Harley Quinn plays like an angel.”

Jason hurried to stand at the altar, Dick and Tim standing behind him as groomsmen. The wedding procession was a bit uncoordinated and rushed, but no one could care less. Stephanie and Cass stood on the opposite side as the bridesmaids. Y/n stepped up to Jason and took his outstretched hand.

Captain Wayne cleared his throat. “Please be seated. Friends, colleagues, gawking Gothamites,” he addressed the crowd. “We are here today to celebrate the marriage of Jason Todd and Y/n L/n.  I've known you both for the last five years,” he said to the couple. “And it has been a true pleasure to watch your distracting childish rivalry evolve into a distracting childish courtship and now into what I'm sure will be a distracting childish marriage.” Y/n couldn’t help but snicker, but Jason was tearing up. “I'm proud of you. And I love you both,” Bruce said.

“Permission to say it back?” Y/n asked, beaming.

“Permission granted.”

“I love you too, sir,” Y/n replied.

“Love you, Captain,” Jason nodded to his mentor.

Wayne asked, “now I believe you've prepared your own vows?”

Y/n nodded and cleared her throat. “Yes, I was going to do an Addams Family-themed rap, but my beat-boxer isn't here. That's the only reason it's not happening,” she assured Jason who smirked. “So, Jay,” she exhaled. “Today has been a crazy day. But I shouldn't be surprised, because we've had a lot of crazy days. There was our first date, our first kiss, the first time you told me you loved me, and the day you asked me to marry you. Every single day I get to be with someone as amazing as you is crazy to me. And I love it. I love you. Especially after today, I know I can always depend on you and that’s something I am really glad to have. You make my life better just by being in it and now I get to marry you. It’s kinda surreal.” She laughed softly. “And I'm worried about dancing in front of our friends. The end,” Y/n finished quickly.

Jason chuckled and began, “Okay, well. When I first met you, you greeted me like we had known each other for years already. And maybe we had. It feels natural being around you, but maybe that’s just what it feels like when you’ve found the love of your life. Life is unpredictable like that. Not everything's in our control. I certainly wasn’t in control when being assigned to the six-six, but it’s how I met you. I’ve learned, throughout the years with you, that as long as you're with the right people, you can handle anything. And you, Y/n L/n, are the right person for me. But I do have some bad news.” Jason sucked in a breath from between his teeth and nodded solemnly. “There is a bomb at this wedding as well.” He paused just to see Y/n’s face fall. Then he added, “your butt. Your butt is the bomb. There will be no survivors.”

“I love you so much,” Y/n said, laughing as tears built up in her eyes. “You're my dream man.”

“I love you too,” Jason whispered. He took a step forward like he wanted to kiss her right then and there. “I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Wayne cleared his throat again and motioned, “ring bearer, please, bring the rings.”

Everyone’s eyes turned down the aisle to see Captain Wayne’s dog, Ace strutting down the aisle like he owned the place. In his mouth was a pillow with two rings on it. Jason leaned down, picked up the rings, and gave one to Y/n.

“Do you, Y/n L/n, take Jason Todd to be your husband?”

“I do.” Y/n slid the ring onto Jason’s finger.

“And do you, Jason Todd, take Y/n L/n to be your wife?”

“I absolutely do,” Jason said, slipping the ring onto her finger.

Bruce smiled and concluded, “by the power vested in me, I'd like to announce that your honeymoon vacation request status has officially been moved from pending to approved. You're married,” he said bluntly. “Congratulations, once again, to Jason and Y/n.”

Jason surged forward to kiss the living daylights out of his bride.

Much later that evening, Damian got his wish to see six-drink Jason. It wasn’t what he wanted, seeing how six-drink Jason was very clingy. Jason didn’t let Y/n out of his sight, much less out of his hands. He kept pulling her away from guests, claiming he deserved some time with his new wife. Six-drink Jason (and any Jason, Damian was sure) really liked using that word. Towards the end of the night, Damian found Jason with his head bent, muttering the vows he had just said a couple hours before into her ear as they swayed to the music. “I’m so confused, I don’t even wanna know what’s happening right now,” Damian scoffed.

In unison, the newlyweds said, “title of your sex tape.”

ACKKKK after two years its finished 😭😭😭 I'm getting oddly emotional and I want to thank everyone who has ever commented or liked this fic! You guys gave me the motivation to keep writing! (and, I can now say I TOLD YOU SO cause I finished this fucking piece after TWO YEARS!!!!) You guys are all saints for putting up with months long hiatuses and I love you all for it

p.s. this is 194 pages on google docs 😧

[miryum]

Pirate Captain!James Potter x Princess!Reader HAPPY ending (pt 1, pt 1.5, pt 2, angst ending)

You sat in the rowboat, hands pressed along the wood. James sat across from you, muscles straining as he rowed the oars towards shore. You had asked for him not to be the one to take you back, worried that he would get jailed and executed the moment he stepped foot on land. But he had insisted. “What man would I be if I didn’t stay with my beloved until the end?” The words had been like a knife to your heart. 

"I am sorry," you managed out. "You understand why I can't, right, James? Please understand."

"I understand," he replied. He wouldn't look at you, instead focusing his stare to the side to watch for the shoreline. Land was only less than half a mile.

You pressed your lips together to try and keep from crying. Why were you so emotional about this? You had only known the man for less than a month and he had kidnapped you. You would not fall victim to the tales of captors wooing maidens.

His voice broke the silence of the waves lapping against the sides of the rowboat. "I know that material possessions, safety, and your duty come into play with your decision. I respect that, Princess, and I admire you for that. I guess I lead with my heart more than my head."

"Leading with your heart isn't bad," you assured him softly. "I wish I could do that more often. But I can't, James."

He swallowed thickly. "I know."

You stayed in silence until the boat pulled up next to the dock. James was quick to stand and begin tying up the rowboat, crouching down on the dock and gripping the rope in his hands. His thighs pressed against his breeches and you could see the little calloused on his palms. You could see now why he was the pirate captain. He was skilled in many things and your demeanor softened. As you sat in the rowboat, hands clasped politely in your lap as you were taught, you thought back to James' words.

“I truly am sorry,” James spoke into the night air. It was a bit cool and you were glad you had grabbed a shawl. The few lanterns on deck, coupled with the moon, were light enough. “Just say the word and I’ll turn this ship around. I… You can go back to your parents whenever you want, you know that, yes?”

“You’d be willing?” you asked quietly. “You claim you’re in love with me–” 

“I am,” he said with such certainty and quickness you thought you might get whiplash. He spun you around gracefully before tugging you back into his arms. You wondered where he learned to dance.

“You claim you’re in love with me,” you repeated. “So why would you be willing to let me go? Why not force me to stay with you?”

James looked down at you and you couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes. There was a melancholy stare that also seemed pitiful. “Have you never loved someone?” You shook your head and he continued in a soft tone, “you would do anything for them. Even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness, you would do it. I don’t think you realise how far I’d go for you, Y/n.”

Some people had started to assemble as James finished up. The pirate ship looming on the horizon was definitely cause for notice and then when people began questioning why you looked like the missing princess, things began clicking. James didn't pay any mind to the growing crowd, instead glaring down at the ropes.

"James," you tried to get his attention quietly when someone ran off to alert some knights. He grunted in response and then, when he looked up at you, you saw tears in his eyes. Your breath caught in your throat and you made a little choked noise. "Nevermind," you whispered, not wanting to trouble him anymore than you already were.

James stood up and brushed off his pants to give him something to do. He then held out his hand for you to take. You were struck by the intensity of which his hazel eyes bored into yours. "One last chance," he offered softly.

All thoughts escaped you as you stared at his hand. It was the hand that had held you so tenderly while you two were dancing. It was the hand that guided yours to the wheel of his ship. It was the hand that had held your hair back when you got too sick on your first night on the ship and you were too weak to push him away. It was the hand that held your hips tightly when he took you up to the crow's nest. He said it was to ensure you didn't fall, even though you were safe behind the wooden barrier that rose to your waist.

You placed your hand in his and the civilians around you gasped as you willingly touched a dirty pirate. James held your hand with such care you didn’t understand how they could be disgusted.

Yet, instead of getting out of the boat, you gently tugged at his hand. James’ eyes widened and he instantly knew. Not a word was passed between you, but just from the small pull of your hand, he knew.

James jerked at the rope tying you to the dock and hopped back into the boat with such speed it rocked side to side. “James!” you shrieked, reaching out to steady yourself.

“Sorry, Princess,” he grinned. “But I’m not taking the chance of you getting away again.” He was swift to grab the oars and begin rowing, even as the guards and civilians began realising what was happening. “I’m not making that mistake twice.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Freedom was liberating, just as Remus had said.

“So what made you change your mind?” James couldn’t help but ask once you were far enough away from shore. He tried to maintain that demeanour that was so proud and respectable of a pirate captain, but like any lovesick man, his words had a plea of desperation: please be that I am the reason. Please love me back. Please don’t leave me.

You turned your stare away from the calm, beautiful sea, back to him. He was a much prettier sight, anyways. Somehow, his hair hadn’t been flattened by the sweat glistening on his forehead and his sleeves were rolled up roguishly. Life had returned to his brilliant eyes, which were as deep as the ocean itself.

“Someone in love would do anything for them,” you repeated softly.

James Potter, the notorious pirate captain, beamed. “I’ll do anything in my power to keep you by my side and happy, Princess. I swear to you.”

“I know,” you whispered out, sitting there across from him like his own personal angel. “But you won’t have to. I’m here now, James. I… apologise that I didn’t realise that sooner. I’m sorry that you had to row all the way out to land just to have me change my mind.”

“Princess,” James breathed out, “I’d row to the ends of the Earth if you so much uttered the word. Know that, my love.”

“I know.” Your smile, however soft, was enough to give him electric energy that ran through his veins. “And I can’t wait.”

[miryum]

Truer words have never been spoken. I literally got a comment on a fic I was having writers block for and now I’m getting ready to post the final chapter in an hour or two. Comments don’t mean reblogging so they don’t clog up your profile or whatever, but they’re just as meaningful. I love going back and reading comments

I need you to understand that when I say "comments are appreciated!" I mean that I will reply to every one of them. I mean that an email with an ao3 notification has a higher priority than a message from my mother. I mean that I will have entire discussions in the comment section if you're up for it. Message me on tumblr and I will have the same discussions on an even more unhinged level. I will dissect entire personalities and ships and fictional political structures and worldbuilding with you. I will become your new best friend. You already ARE my new best friend. At the last battle, I would raise Anduril and say "For my ao3 readers" while a single tears rolls down my cheek, and dive into the fray. I would upload from beyond the grave if someone asked about the next chapter

[miryum]

Pirate Captain!James Potter x Princess!Reader ANGST ending (pt 1, pt 1.5, pt 2, happy ending)

You sat in the rowboat, hands pressed along the wood. James sat across from you, muscles straining as he rowed the oars towards shore. You had asked for him not to be the one to take you back, worried he would get jailed and executed the moment he stepped foot on land. But he had insisted. “What man would I be if I didn’t stay with my beloved until the end?” The words had been like a knife to your heart. 

"I am sorry," you managed out. "You understand why I can't, right, James? Please understand."

"I understand," he replied. He wouldn't look at you, instead focusing his stare to the side to watch for the shoreline. Land was only less than half a mile.

You pressed your lips together to try and keep from crying. Why were you so emotional about this? You had only known the man for less than a month and he had kidnapped you. You would not fall victim to the tales of captors wooing maidens.

His voice broke the silence of the waves lapping against the sides of the rowboat. "I know that material possessions, safety, and your duty come into play with your decision. I respect that, Princess, and I admire you for that. I guess I lead with my heart more than my head."

"Leading with your heart isn't bad," you assured him softly. "I wish I could do that more often. But I can't, James."

He swallowed thickly. "I know."

You stayed in silence until the boat pulled up next to the dock. James was quick to stand and begin tying up the rowboat, crouching down on the dock and gripping the rope in his hands. His thighs pressed against his breeches and you could see the little calluses on his palms. You could see now why he was the pirate captain. He was skilled in many things and your demeanor softened. As you sat in the rowboat, hands clasped politely in your lap as you were taught, you thought back to James' words.

“I truly am sorry,” James spoke into the night air. It was a bit cool and you were glad you had grabbed a shawl. The few lanterns on deck, coupled with the moon, were light enough. “Just say the word and I’ll turn this ship around. I… You can go back to your parents whenever you want, you know that, yes?”

“You’d be willing?” you asked quietly. “You claim you’re in love with me–” 

“I am,” he said with such certainty and quickness you thought you might get whiplash. He spun you around gracefully before tugging you back into his arms. You wondered where he learned to dance.

“You claim you’re in love with me,” you repeated. “So why would you be willing to let me go? Why not force me to stay with you?”

James looked down at you and you couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes. There was a melancholy stare that also seemed pitiful. “Have you never loved someone?” You shook your head and he continued in a soft tone, “you would do anything for them. Even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness, you would do it. I don’t think you realise how far I’d go for you, Y/n.”

Some people had started to assemble as James finished up. The pirate ship looming on the horizon was definitely cause for notice and then when people began questioning why you looked like the missing princess, things began clicking. James didn't pay any mind to the growing crowd, instead glaring down at the ropes.

"James," you tried to get his attention quietly when someone ran off to alert some knights. He grunted in response and then, when he looked up at you, you saw tears in his eyes. Your breath caught in your throat and you made a little choked noise. "Nevermind," you whispered, not wanting to trouble him anymore than you already were.

James stood up and brushed off his pants to give him something to do. He then held out his hand for you to take. You were struck by the intensity of which his hazel eyes bored into yours. "One last chance," he offered softly.

All thoughts escaped you as you stared at his hand. It was the hand that had held you so tenderly while you two were dancing. It was the hand that guided yours to the wheel of his ship. It was the hand that had held your hair back when you got too sick on your first night on the ship and were too weak to push him away. It was the hand that held your hips tightly when he took you up to the crow's nest. He said it was to ensure you didn't fall, even though you were safe behind the wooden barrier that rose to your waist.

You could feel your subjects staring at you and their voices got louder as more and more people realised who you were. You could hear shouts from knights as they neared. Your eyes flicked back to James and even more desperation filled your veins. If only someone could tell you what to do. Either way, you knew you would regret something, but you didn't want to have to give up anything. "You're sure you can't come with me?" You didn't want to sound like you were begging, but it was hard. 

James shook his head. "You know I can't, darling."

"I know," you murmured. "I know." Both of you realised that even though he wanted to join you, he would be executed for his crimes of piracy and there was nothing you could do about it. And your parents would never allow any relationship to bloom between him and you. 

So you took his hand and stepped off the rowboat. Knights were quick to rush up and grab your arms, hurrying you away and ushering civilians back. You let out a short scream as the guards grabbed you, not prepared for the intrusion of space. And, after spending weeks at sea, you weren't used to solid ground. Your knees buckled and the knights' grip only tightening to try to keep you up.

"Hey!" James shouted, feet rooted to the dock. "Let her go!"

You craned your neck to try and see him, but even more guards were quick to surround him. "Stop!" you cried. "He rescued me! Stop it!" You jerked away from your knights and stamped your foot. You felt like a toddler, but you commanded, "I am your heir princess! Release him and let him go." Your voice wavered at the thought of letting James leave you, but you continued, "he did nothing wrong. Let him return to his ship." You were sure you looked like a disaster – you hadn't been able to properly wash your hair in weeks and the clothes you were wearing were not fit for a princess. Rumours would surely swirl around your kidnapping and sudden return, but the knights were still devoted to you and so they slowly stepped away from James.

The pirate held your gaze. “If you weren’t a princess,” he whispered, “would you have come with me?”

“I fear that if I say yes,” you replied softly, “it would hurt you more.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. His eye bags that had grown ever since you had danced with him were wet and you couldn’t bear the knowledge that it was you who had made him cry. “Goodbye, my Princess,” he whispered. 

“Goodbye, James.” You saw him wince as he turned away, hands clenched into fists. You couldn’t watch as he got back into the boat and rowed away.

It was then that you realised the love of your life was gone. Maybe one day you would see him again, by some miracle or chance. Or maybe you could only visit his pirate ship in your memories. It would be best to forget the way he held you so tenderly and lovingly.

You forced yourself to turn away and walk back to your life as princess.