#the set design the props the lighting design

[buckysthunderbolts]

Maternal Instincts

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Winter Soldier x Reader

Summary: After avoiding Bucky for far too long, you're forced to come to him and ask him to help you walk through memories you don't believe are real. Only this time, it involves two people that look suspiciously like you and Bucky.

Warnings: SMUT (18+): fingering, biting, hair pulling, unprotected p in v sex, oral(f). language, mentions of pregnancy, giving birth, c-section, blood, knives and needles, drugs, choking

Word Count: 5k+

Author's Note: Here's part four! I think this series will be between six and eight parts, I haven't decided yet. As always, please let me know what you think and comments and reblogs are encouraged and appreciated!

Chapter 4: Margaret & Peter

THEN

Bierhal and the team of doctors and nurses tasked with making sure I got pregnant and stayed pregnant punished me every time I lost a pregnancy. The time between failed pregnancies was spent frozen in time.

The Winter Soldier was a faceless apparition. I could feel him, sense him, and taste him, but it was like I couldn’t see him. When I would reach out and touch him, something burned inside of me and tightened inside my chest. It was something familiar I couldn’t name, a feeling long forgotten.

“Her body cannot maintain this level of torture in order to maintain a healthy pregnancy,” one of the doctors working under Bierhal stressed. “If you want her to get pregnant and stay pregnant, she must be healthy. You can’t stick her in the cryogenic chamber when the pregnancy terminates and be upset when her body fails. She needs rest.”

My ears ring and I can’t see straight. Blinding artificial light fills the room. I can’t move. I’m pinned to a chair with heavy metal restraints. The pain blinds my senses, but I do not react. Reacting means more punishment.

My heart races and I taste blood inside my mouth. The voices yell at one another and there’s a loud bang and a heavy crash. The room falls silent again. There’s harsh whispers and grumbles, and finally, one heavy and resolute sigh.

“Stick her back into cryo and move her to the location in southern Italy,” Bierhal ordered. “We start fresh next week.”

Coldness washes over me, and I don’t fight the darkness.

….

The next time I wake up, there’s something soft underneath me. There’s a heaviness inside my chest and it feels like there’s cotton lodged in my mouth. I swallow hard and slowly open my eyes and take in my surroundings.

I’m in a cozy bedroom with floor to ceiling windows pushed open. A crisp summer breeze blows the curtains from the shoreline just beyond the house. The room is warm and the sun shines through, hitting the opposite wall. The bedroom is designed as an Italian villa and covered in paintings that capture the view just beyond the opened windows.

I sit up and glance down at my clothing. I’m not dressed in my typical outfit of tight black pants and matching shirt. Instead, I’m in breathable linen pants and an oversized sleep shirt. I don’t know how I got here or who dressed me.

I wipe my face and stretch upwards, letting out a yawn. Whatever drugs my handlers use to subdue me lingers in my blood. I stand and carefully make my way towards the bedroom door. I grasp it and carefully twist the door open. It clicks open and I peer outside into an empty hallway.

I move quietly down the corridor towards where I can only assume is the kitchen and living room area. I peek around the corner and find Bierhal sitting in a lounge chair just outside the double doors with a drink in his hand. He has his legs propped up and sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. The Winter Soldier stands like a looming shadow over his shoulder just off into the shade. Two others stand near the fence with their hands on rifles.

I take careful steps through the room and out the threshold before I’m standing in front of him. Bierhal turns and grins at me, sitting up in his chair. He sets his drink down on the table beside him. He claps and motions towards the empty chair across from him.

“You’re up, Little Viper! Please take a seat,” he said, “there are some things we need to discuss.”

I obey and sit at the edge of the chair. My hands settle on my thighs, and I fix my posture so I sit up straight. I wait for him to speak again and listen to the soft ebb and flow of the waves crashing at the shore.

“The opportunity to continue HYDRA’s legacy starts with you, you want that, don’t you?”

His hazel eyes find mine and there’s a challenging glint in them. It’s something I’ve seen before. It’s a challenge, a test. He wants to make sure we are on the same page. I know better than to say no and Bierhal knows this. My mind is not my own. My decisions are not my own. My body is not my own. They all belong to Bierhal and to HYDRA.

“Yes, sir,” I answered.

“Good, because I am growing quite impatient for HYDRA’s legacy, your legacy, to continue. That is your mission now until you succeed. That is why we are here instead of at home in Russia. A change of pace, fresh air, no targets to kill is what is needed. You and the Winter Soldier must continue HYDRA’s legacy. I want your energy entirely devoted to creating the next generation of HYDRA. Do I make myself clear or do I need to spell it out for you?” Bierhal asked with an edge.

I shake my head. I knew what he meant and what he was requiring of me. “I understand, sir.”

He nods and stands. “Good. A doctor will be visiting you once a week until we are certain this pregnancy will stick. Once that is certain, the asset will return to Russia, and you will stay here with me so I can keep an eye on you. Until then, a team will be watching your every move until I return, so don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and most of all, have fun,” he cackles with a wink and waves for the fence to open.

One of the men posted in front of the gate opens and Bierhal disappears, leaving the soldier and I in the hot sun.

….

There’s nothing fun about the way the solider and I fuck. It’s tongue and teeth. It’s rough and unforgiving. He takes me when and wherever he wants, whether it’s on the kitchen counter, against the floor to ceiling windows, or on the couch.

Words are barely spoken between heavy sighs and quiet moans. The soldier kisses like he owns me. His teeth and fingers leave marks wherever they touch. His touch greedy and tough.

It’s methodical, quick, and deliberate, like it’s a chore. We use each other for our own pleasure to complete the mission.

It doesn’t take long for me to get pregnant. The anticipation of keeping and staying pregnant fills the house and the spaces I share with him.

He looms and lingers when the doctor visits and confirms my pregnancy. He’s gentle and quiet now. He sets my prenatal vitamins on the kitchen counter every morning beside a glass of water. He holds my hair away from my neck when my face is in the toilet due from morning sickness. He makes food without me asking him to.

It’s different now. It’s soft, slow, and domestic. It’s something familiar that itches the back of my brain. There’s flashes of things I don’t remember with him and I’m itching to ask the soldier. Sometimes he’s in a military uniform, other times he’s in a nice button down with slacks. His kisses are warm and gentle and not what I’m used to. His touch lingers and his gaze doesn’t make me feel like he’s two seconds away from snapping my neck. It feels something like what I imagine love feels like.

Asking questions means punishment. Asking questions could get either of us hurt, so I push them down and bury them deep in my mind.

When four months pass, the doctor breaks the news that I’m pregnant with twins. I pretend that it means nothing and that I’m indifferent to the news that I’m having one of each. These children are not mine to celebrate. They don’t belong to me, even if it’s my mission. They are and will always be HYDRA’s.

I know what is expected of me. I will succeed. I will not let HYDRA down. I cannot be punished.

One of the men on the security detail breaks the news that the soldier will be returning to Russia once Bierhal returns to the Italian villa after the doctor confirms that I’m measuring on track to deliver two healthy and perfect babies five months from now. The quiet bubble we have lived in for so long has burst.

We sit on the patio together staring out into the ocean the night before the soldier is expected to be sent back home. The sky is clear of any clouds, and the moon reflects back on to the water. The wind brushes through my hair and the salty sea pricks my skin. We’re silent as we listen to the crashing of the waves on the shore.

“Do you have any name ideas?” the Winter Soldier asked, breaking the silence.

I turn and look at him in surprise. There’s something soft, tender, and familiar with the way he’s looking at me. It sends warning signals to the back of my brain and down my spine. I swallow hard and shiver under his gaze. Something dangerous and unfamiliar fills the air.

I consider his question carefully. He knows better than to ask questions. He knows asking questions means pain, but he asked it anyway. Was this a test? If I answered him, would I be punished?

But he looks earnest and sincere. His eyes aren’t cold and calculating. He doesn’t look like the Winter Soldier I once knew. I let out a careful breath and pull away from the weight of his stare, looking out into the darkness of the ocean.

“Margaret and Steven,” I answered barely above a whisper, mindful of the men just steps away from us. “Do you have any name ideas?”

I turn to look at him as he considers the question. I can see the gears turn and shift the longer silence falls between us in the deep blue of his eyes. I know without asking that he’s weighing an answer just like I did. He turns and glances over his shoulder at the two men posted at the gate just feet away.

He moves closer to me, his breath whispering against my hair. “Grace and Peter.”

I lean back and stare up at the dark sky, ignoring his hot and heavy stare. Something deep shifts inside my chest, begging to be released. I swallow hard and brush my fingers against my bare belly, pultruding out from the fabric of my shirt.

I feel the soldier lay down beside me and his eyes lingering on my exposed stomach. I carefully reach for his hand, and he flinches reflectively before momentarily relaxing.

I guide his hand and rest it on my stomach, letting him touch me and feel our children who will not know us as their parents. The Winter Soldier lets out a shaky sigh and lets his fingers wander across my skin. I shiver and watch him stare down at my growing stomach.

His touch is feather light, like he’s afraid one wrong caress of his fingers against my skin will break me. He has never touched me this softly before. It has always been harsh and rough.

My heart drops deep into the pit of my stomach and races hard against my chest. It’s a different kind of anticipation than all the other times that has led us to having sex. This is different than all the rest. I could feel my heart in my throat when his eyes tore from my skin to meet mine.

His eyes don’t have the same icy edge to them they normally do. They’re gentle and kind, something neither of us are and something I haven’t deserved or earned.

There’s ringing in my ears and alarms blasting in my head, but I don’t pull away when his metal hand reaches to caress my throat before holding my face in his hand. His heavy breaths mingle with mine and his nose skims mine.

My hands rest on his chest, but I don’t squeeze his shirt and pull him towards me. I can’t stop looking at the way he’s looking at me. He looks at me like I matter, like I’m not a machine, or a monster, or an incubator, to grow the next generation of HYDRA. He looks at me like I’m someone worth protecting and worth loving.

He pushes forward just so our lips brush slightly. I crumble immediately, collapsing under his delicate touch. I moan quietly into his mouth and my fingers squeeze his shirt, pulling him closer to me. The soldier kisses me like he has all the time in the world instead of another six hours. It’s slow, deep, and deliberate.

He kisses me sweetly and delicately. It feels nothing like the kisses we’ve shared in the past. Those were quick, hurried, and rough. We were taking from each other like it was a race to the finish line. Now it’s soft and gentle, something neither of us have experienced.

The kiss sends electric jolts up and down my spine, reaching the tips of my toes and the roots of my hair. I tremble under his slow and strong touch. I breathe through my nose and smell the ocean salt on his skin.

The hand holding my jaw slides carefully through my hair and settles on the back of my head. I brace for a harsh hair pull and a hard pinch of his teeth sinking into the skin of my throat, but it never comes.

Instead, he cradles the back of my head and his mouth brushes kisses across my chin, the apple of my cheeks, and the column of my throat. I vibrate under his skilled mouth and my hands cling to his backside as his delicate kisses stain my skin. He pulls noises out of my like it’s second nature.

“Bedroom,” I whispered against the shell of his ear, “eyes and ears out here.”

“Eyes and ears also inside,” he hummed against my skin.

The soldier wasn’t wrong. There were cameras and audio recording devices set up in every area of the villa to keep an eye on us. Even though it was only us in the villa, I still felt Bierhal’s dark presence, but it was different. The soldier and I were the only one’s physically present in the home. There were guards stationed all around the parameter of the home.

“Real people out here, cameras inside.”

He nods against my sweaty skin and moves to stand. He helps me to my feel and lifts me into his arms like I weigh nothing. My stomach presses harshly against his and the soldier moans into my mouth as he carries us to my bedroom. His hands squeeze and grope my ass between his powerful hands. My arms wrap around his neck and my fingers tangle in his hair.

He gently sets me at the foot of my bed but doesn’t let me go. Instead, he uses his superhuman strength to pull me to the headboard and kisses every inch of skin his mouth can reach with my clothes still on.

The soldier carefully discards my clothes from my body. There is nothing rough or fast about his methodical touches against my skin. It’s like he’s exploring me for the first time all over again. An experimental nip there, a lingering touch here. It’s making my head spin at how gentle the Winter Soldier is treating me.

I’m not his plaything. I’m not his enemy fighting to be subdued. Instead, I’m his number one target. I’m his mission and he must do everything in his power to win.

The soldier’s mouth leaves a hot trail down my skin. He nibbles a bruise in a spot only he knows will be there and lingers long kisses on my belly. He pushes me down into the mattress and continues kissing down my body before his heavy breath brushes against my wet center. I shiver in anticipation.

I whimper when he looks up at me with dark, hooded eyes over my stomach. His fingers grab my ankles, and he throws my legs over his shoulder. He nips into my open thighs before he buries his face between my legs. I arch my back against the bed.

I cry out and my hands fly to his hair and tug hard. The soldier’s hums boil my insides. He laps and sucks at my swollen clit. His fingers brush and tease at my thighs before sliding them between my folds. I shiver despite the heat, and gasp at the feeling of his metal fingers pushing inside of me.

I’m at the cusp of my orgasm, the pricks of pleasure soaking every inch of my body as he uses his fingers and tongue against me before he cruelly pulls away.

I know better than to whimper and whine at the loss of contact. I am at his mercy, and he knows it too. I’m breathing hard and move to sit up when he presses me down into the sheets. I feel the sound of his pants and belt hit the floor and in the moon light, I find the Winter Soldier bare before me.

He climbs on to the bed again and wraps my legs around his waist. I rise to meet him, and my fingers squeeze half-moon dents into his shoulders. Like before, my stomach presses against his and I take him into my hands. He grunts and pushes forward, gathering my slick on the tip of his cock before I feel him inside me.

He moans into the hollow of my throat, but he doesn’t slam into me like all the times before. Instead, he moves slowly until he bottoms out inside me. His mouth finds mine again and the kiss is long and drawn out, giving me the one chance to adjust and accommodate his large size. I feel impossibly full and feel him gasp into my skin when I squeeze him inside me.

Our breaths, moans, and cries fill the space between us and then he starts to move. His thrusts are deep and warm, hitting every inch inside of me and setting my skin on fire. With every slow thrust, I feel every inch of him stretching my insides. My fingers scratch angry red marks into his back and a sudden scream escapes my throat when he presses his finger against my clit. His head falls into my neck and he presses kisses along my throat.

He's sweet and snug inside me and I squeeze experimentally. The soldier grunts and moves faster. I see stars only seconds later and the Winter Soldier fucks my release back into me before he bites my shoulder and spills inside me.

He drops beside me, and something dislodges in my chest at the way he looks at me with a tender, fucked out, ghost of a smile. He kisses me delicately one last time.

I hurry out of the bed and race to the small desk in the corner of the room. I take the blank notepad and pen beside it and return to the Winter Soldier’s side in my bed. I look at him before quickly writing:

Baby Girl: Margaret Grace

Baby Boy: Peter Steven

He nods and no words pass between us. I tear the sheet off the pad and write again:

Their names even if we never get the chance to see them.

He nods again and I hug him tightly. There’s something domestic about the way he holds me and kisses the top of my head. He shifts slightly and I watch him stand and dress quietly before he steps towards the door. He looks at me over his shoulder and I shift under the heat of his lingering gaze before he disappears. I ignore the twist in my gut and sharp stab in my chest.

….

I start regaining flickers of my memory shortly after the Winter Soldier leaves. I know better to write them down so Bierhal could use it as grounds to punish me, even if I was pregnant.

I cling to them desperately, repeating them over and over inside my head before I fall asleep. My name. My siblings. Steve. Bucky. The worst part is remembering what the Winter Soldier —Bucky— meant to me. The feeling in my gut was right, we did know each other in a different life. He loved me and I loved him. He was kind, warm, and gentle. I chase that feeling in my sleep every night.

The closer I get to the birth, the more I itch to leave and escape. I remember more and more each day, despite fooling everyone into thinking I’m still the cold and calculated killer they molded me into. My pulse doesn’t spike at the photos they place in front of me of my family and friends to test me. Everything remains as it was before the start of this pregnancy.

I escape into the dead of night just a week before my scheduled due date. Bierhal and his guards did not see it coming. I had to get out of Italy as fast as possible for the sake of the lives of my children. I almost got away with it, if it wasn’t for the surprise arrival of the Winter Soldier sitting ideally on a motorcycle just beyond the gates to the villa.

He was dressed in all black, wearing the mask on his face. His eyes are cold, void of any emotion. I knew then that I was his target. He did not remember who I was or the time we spent together in the house sitting behind me. I take a careful step back and raise my hands up, the weight of the gun I stole heavy in my hands.

“Please,” I choked out as he neared me. “Please let me go.”

He doesn’t say anything as he stalks towards me. I weigh my options quickly and aim the gun right at him, firing until it clicks. The bullets easily ping and deflect off his metal arm. I toss the gun and the knife in my other hand slices through the air. It tears against the sleeve of his shirt, and I duck underneath him and slice as the back of his knees.

I take off, running as fast as my pregnant body will allow me. My lungs burn and I feel dizzy from the exertion. I cannot keep this up, I’m too pregnant.

I feel a harsh and heavy pull at the back of my neck. A whimper leaves my throat, and I fall to my knees. The Winter Soldier’s fingers tug at my hair, and he loops around to face me, my chin facing up to meet his hard gaze.

His metal hand rests on my throat, and I claw at it uselessly. “B-Bucky, please. Please,” I cry as hot tears paint my cheeks as he squeezes tighter and tighter, cutting off my air supply.

Black spots edge at the corners of my eyes, and I can’t breathe. My lungs sting and darkness settles over me.

….

When I wake, I smell the familiarity of iron and antiseptic. I’m groggy and my throat kills me. I swallow hard and slowly open my eyes. I wince against the harsh artificial light and feel the familiar sting of leather restraints on my arms. There’s ringing in my ears, and I turn my head. I see the team of doctors and scientists gathered around a table littered with papers.

I look up at the ceiling again and cry silently. I failed so spectacularly. I will never look at my children again and remember who they are or what it felt like to carry them, that much is certain.

“You’re awake, Little Viper!” Bierhal exclaimed, looming over me. “You’ve been a naughty, naughty girl. Do you remember what happens when you’re a bad girl?”

I squeeze my eyes shut. I feel a burning sensation beneath my belly and then nothing at all. I open my eyes again and look down at the doctors slicing me open. They were taking my babies out of me. I pull against the restraints and feel a slight give.

“No, no, no. Please don’t,” I begged as hands pinned me down. “Please don’t take my babies from me!”

“Your babies? They do not belong to you. They are HYDRA’s,” Bierhal spat, slapping me across the face. The side of my face stings and I cry harder. My sobs echo in the room before they’re cut off by a high-pitched wail.

“Please let me hold them. I’ll behave. I promise.”

The doctors turn away from me briefly to consult with Bierhal and the team of scientists. I can’t hear their whispers over the loud cries of one of my babies. I don’t know who was taken out first.

The people holding me down carefully let me go and unhook the straps from my wrists. I’m too weak and helpless to fight with my stomach cut open and they must know that. One of the doctor’s gingerly places my baby on my chest. I know that it’s Margaret attached to my skin. Her strong cries stop almost immediately, and I cry even harder. She knows she’s with her mother.

My fingers brush down her tiny body and I feel her suck on my breast. My vision is fuzzy from emotion and pain, but it dulls the longer I look at my baby girl. Her tiny hand wraps around one of my fingers and I brush my nose against the top of her head.

Another piercing cry fills the room, and I know Peter has entered the world. I look up from my daughter and watch the doctors wipe my son clean before coming over and laying him on my chest beside his sister. I run my hand down his body and take his tiny hand between one of my fingers.

Like his sister, his cries quiet the moment his skin touches mine. I watch his tiny hand reach out and grab at his sister.

The noise around me dulls to a murmur and I focus all my attention onto my children. I would do everything I could to protect them. I press tender, loving kisses at the top of their heads.

Two doctors appear at either side of me, and I start to panic. Machines start to scream around me. “No, please, no. Please don’t take them away from me. They need me!” I sobbed as my children are torn from my arms.

I’m too weak to fight and I feel a sharp prick on the inside of my arm. Darkness soon follows.

….

NOW

My shoulders shake and a scream escapes me as my eyes tear open. A cool hand holds my arm and I blink several times, ignoring the tears in my eyes.

My name is a soft whisper on Bucky’s lips. His worried face comes into focus. His brows are pinched together, and he looks like he was also forced awake by my screams and cries. His face is flushed and full of sleep, like he had run into my room in a hurry. Bucky’s shirtless and in pajama pants. His hair is wild from sleep.

Embarrassment takes over me and squeezes my insides. It feels like there’s a thousand-pound weight sitting on my chest. I woke Bucky up with my screams. He kneels and carefully sits beside me on my bed. His metal hand slides down my arm and takes my fingers between his, his thumb brushing the back of my hand.

“You’re okay, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, “it was just a nightmare. You’re safe here with me. I got you; it wasn’t real.”

I swallow hard and shake my head, my hand gripping his. “No, no it wasn’t. It was a nightmare, but it was a memory. It was real. All my nightmares are memories, memories I’m too scared to ask you about,” I croaked, reaching for the glass of water I kept at my bedside for instances like these, tearing myself away from him.

Silence fills the room once more and Bucky watches my every move. My fingers rub the rim of the glass, and I stare at the wrinkled sheets at the foot of my bed.

“Just ask me. Please,” Bucky pleaded quietly.

My eyes find his again and I scratch the back of my neck. “You promise not to sugar coat it if it hurts?” I asked.

A tender smile finds its way on Bucky’s face and his eyes crinkle. “When have I ever sugar-coated things with you, sweetheart?”

I hum and nod, “Touché. Do you remember anything from when you were in Italy with me around the time I was able to keep and maintain the pregnancy?”

Bucky swallows and considers my words. He nods slowly. “I remember feelings of déjà vu the longer I stayed. It was the longest I had ever been out from the cryogenic chamber, and I think I was getting flashes of our lives before the war. There was something familiar about you I couldn’t name, but that I could feel. I think I chalked it up to false memories HYDRA put in my head. At that point, I no longer resisted the memory wipes…” there’s a long pause. “I remember that you tried escaping before their births and I brought you back. I didn’t see you for a really long time after that. You didn’t remember me, and I didn’t remember you.”

I swallow hard and Bucky’s words fill the empty space and settle on my shoulders. I let out a quiet breath and meet his eyes again. I consider my next words carefully, biting the inside of my cheek.

“I want to rescue Margaret and Peter. Will you help me find them?” I asked barely above a whisper, scared to see his reaction.

Bucky carefully holds my face in his hands. A broken smile finds its way on to his beautiful face. He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Of course I will. I hope you know I will do anything you ask me to.”

I shudder at his answer and resist the urge to kiss him until I forget my name.

[walkman-cat]

GOD.

[anna-scribbles]

jinx went to the megamind school of presentation

[of-fear-and-love]

[federationgothic]

The Romulan light boxes are also Federation cargo containers.

[azadale]

whoever decided to blind write a bunch of theatre paperwork (costume plot, master prop list) I blame you for my lack of sleep. me. i blame me. also jorge and his inexplicable need for luke holt in so many roles. *tears hair out here* anyways it is 3 in the morning, and I need to move onto blind writing a cue sheet even though I have never done that before

also here is a link for others to join me in my madness:

[bidokja]

another orv stageplay idea: you could depict the fourth wall (like, when its actually shown, not just the pop up windows) using a scrim that's actually two scrims. kind of like a curtain with a split in the middle, but they're touching/overlapping a bit so its hard to tell from the audience. both halfs would be on the same rig so they'd lift and lower in unison. if you did things right no one would even know there's a split in the middle. and you'd use rear projection to display the pages on it. they could move and show messages, and someone could be "eaten" by the wall as well by passing between.

if you want to take it a step up you could have people in costumes (or weilding big puppetry pieces) that look like a big moving lump of pages. they could rush in like a wave and pull people "into" the wall, to make the wall feel more alive. a projection and some blobby costumes sounds not-so-grand i know, but acting, lighting, effects, music, and a fog machine or two really go a long way.

[garlic-the-gnome]

I got accepted into a backstage theatre course!!!!!

[bob-mcbobbinson]

having a hard day, so I decided to catch up with the bestest, pastelelests show of the season uwu ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

[hesgomorrah]

thought too hard about costuming in tv shows and made myself sad i miss it so much

[noxus-roxus]

If I made a tech theater discord server, would y’all join/invite people???

[tiriansjewel]

it’s been years since my last true fixation on a musical but I regret to inform you all that I just watched the 2014 Swedish Jesus Christ superstar and I feel I will never be the same again.

[anocturnalpieceofcake]

Project: Philhealth - Yakap.

[cumironi]

spoiled little girlfriend : gojo satoru, geto suguru

gojo was lying on your shared bed, his long legs stretched out as he sifted through some paperwork. the soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminated his sharp features, making his white hair seem even brighter against the dark sheets. he was deeply focused, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration.

you walked into the bedroom, eyes glued to your phone as you scrolled through a message or maybe a funny video that caught your attention. you didn't even notice how the soft tapping of your footsteps caught gojo's attention. he looked up from his papers, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched you.

“baby,” you called out casually, still focused on your phone. your voice was sweet, but there was a hint of playfulness in it, like you were about to ask him for something or share a joke.

as you spoke, the sound of running water in the bathroom stopped. geto, freshly showered, stepped out with a towel draped casually around his neck. his wet hair clung to his forehead, droplets of water sliding down his neck and bare chest. he looked relaxed, his eyes warm and soft as he caught sight of you and gojo.

“yes, love?” gojo asked, his voice laced with curiosity as he watched you, his paperwork momentarily forgotten. he shifted slightly on the bed, making space for you to join him.

you bent down to the bed with your feet still touching the wooden floor. your elbows prop against the soft material while your eyes are still focusing on your phone, finger softly scroll through the screen.

“cartier just released a new necklace, look,” you said and show gojo your phone screen. gojo's eyes flick from your face to your phone, his gaze lingering on the expensive piece of jewelry displayed on the screen. his lips curl into a slight smirk as he notices your interest in the accessory, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“looks very pretty, baby,” he replied, his voice carrying a touch of teasing, “you want me to buy it for you?” he casually set his paperwork aside, his full attention now on you and the necklace you were showing him.

you smiled brightly, your eyes lighting up with excitement as you nodded eagerly. “yes, please,” you replied, your voice soft but full of anticipation.

gojo chuckled, enjoying the eager look in your eyes as you nodded. he knew you had a penchant for pretty trinkets, and he'd often indulged you whenever you had your eye on something.

“of course, darling. anything for you,” he said, his own smile broadening at your excitement. geto, who had been silently watching the exchange from the bathroom door, raised an eyebrow in amusement. he couldn't help but chime in from the side, a teasing tone in his voice. “you're so whipped,” he remarked with a smirk.

gojo glanced at geto, his grin turning into a playful smirk. “i'm working my ass off and have all this money for what if not to spoil my girlfriend?” he replied, his tone half-serious, half-teasing.

he leaned back against the pillows, folding his arms behind his head, looking completely satisfied with himself. “besides,” he added, throwing a fond smile your way while you already engrossed by your phone, “seeing her smile like that is worth every penny.”

geto chuckled as he wiped his wet hair with the towel around his broad shoulders. he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze going from gojo to you before settling back on the white-haired man.

“looks like our little darling has you wrapped around her little finger,” he teased, the corner of his mouth twitching with a hint of laughter. gojo smirked back at him but didn't deny it. instead, he turned his attention back to you, his eyes warm and affectionate as he regarded you.

your focus had already shifted back to your phone as they talked, completely absorbed in the world of sparkling jewels and elegant designs. the soft glow from the screen illuminated your face, and they could see the twinkle in your eyes, like twin stars, as you scrolled through the jewelry catalog.

you were in your own world, mesmerized by the shiny things, barely registering the playful exchange between gojo and geto. a small, contented smile played on your lips as you admired each piece, your excitement palpable even in your silence.

both gojo and geto chuckled at the sight of your absorption in the jewelry catalog, finding your innocent fascination as endearing as it was amusing. gojo's smirk softened into a fond smile as he observed your reaction, watching as you became immersed in the luxurious items that filled the screen.

“look at her,” geto murmured to gojo, his voice betraying his own amusement, “always lost in the world of pretty things.”

their gazes softening as they observed your captivated expression. it was endearing how easily you got distracted by material possessions, yet they couldn't deny the genuine joy it seemed to bring to you.

geto pushed off from the door frame and walked over to the bed, his footsteps soft and silent. he sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, his towel still hanging around his neck. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

gojo spoke up, his voice smooth and laced with affection. “honey, you're gonna burn a hole through that screen the way you're staring at it.”

as geto sat down next to you, you barely noticed, still engrossed in the jewelry catalogue. gojo's words finally drew your attention back to the room, and you looked up at him, a small pout forming on your lips.

“i can't help it,” you said defensively. “they're so pretty,” you added, your eyes wandering back to your phone screen. geto chuckled softly and reached over, his hand gently taking the phone from yours. his touch was warm and light, yet firm enough to pull your focus away.

you softly protested, “hey...” your eyes followed as geto held your phone, a pout forming on your lips. “it was getting good,” you mumbled, a hint of frustration in your voice as you watched him take the phone away. your gaze lingered on the screen, clearly longing to go back to admiring the jewelry, but geto's gentle but firm hold kept you from diving back into your shiny distraction.

“i know, sweetheart, but you've been glued to that screen for so long,” geto said, his voice gentle yet authoritative. he set your phone down on the bedside table, making sure it was well-out of your reach.

gojo chuckled, enjoying the little display of rebellion in your pout and the stubbornness in your eyes. “don't worry,” he teased, “we'll make sure you get all the shiny pretty things you want.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but gojo's words took the wind out of your sails. the idea of getting all the jewelry you wanted was too tempting to resist. your pout slowly faded, replaced by a curious expression.

“all of them?” you asked, your voice soft and timid, your gaze shifted to them, a hint of skepticism in your eyes. geto smiled, a knowing smirk playing on the corner of his lips. “of course,” he reassures, “whatever your heart desires.”

you tried to hold back your smile, sucking it in for a brief moment, but the excitement was too much to contain. your eyes lit up as you finally let your smile break free, beaming brightly. “okay,” you agreed, your voice filled with happiness, the idea of getting everything you wanted making you giddy with excitement.

gojo and geto exchanged a glance, their own smiles mirroring your happiness. they loved how easy it was to make you happy. gojo chuckled, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “you're practically vibrating with excitement,” he teased, his hand reached out to ruffle your hair.

geto leaned in slightly, his tone serious but filled with fondness, “we'll give you everything you want, my sweetheart.”

your smile grew even wider in their words, warmth flooding your chest as you looked between them. “i’m going to wear the necklace for our anniversary,” you declared, your voice filled with excitement and affection. the thought of showing off something they got for you on such a special day made your heart flutter.

you glanced back at the phone on the bedside table, your mind already imagining how perfect it would look with your outfit. “it’s going to be perfect,” you added, your eyes shining as you thought about the upcoming celebration with them.

gojo and geto exchanged a knowing look, smiles tugging at the corners of their lips as they took in your excitement. gojo leaned back against the pillows, his eyes warm and adoring as he watched you.

“you'll look absolutely beautiful,” he said, his voice soft and affectionate, “we can't wait to see you wear it.” geto added, his own smile growing wider, “it'll be the perfect accessory to match your gorgeous dress that we'll be buying you for the occasion.”

you felt a warm flutter in your chest as gojo gently tugged on your arm, guiding you to climb onto the bed. with a soft smile, you nestled between them, the familiar comfort of being surrounded by their warmth putting you at ease. as you settled in, geto reached for your phone on the bedside table and handed it back to you, his fingers brushing lightly against yours.

“let’s find you another jewels,” geto suggested, his voice low and filled with affection as he encouraged you to continue your search. with both of them beside you, their attention fully on you, the moment felt perfect. your excitement renewed, you eagerly returned to the jewelry catalog, ready to pick out the next piece with their help.

gojo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulled you closer against him. his warmth emanated from his body, and you could feel it seeping into yours, while geto leaned over your shoulder, his chin resting lightly on it as he looked at the screen with you.

as you scroll through the jewelry catalog, they both chimed in, suggesting pieces here and there, offering opinions, and throwing in playful comments. every time you paused on something you liked, they made sure to remind you that they would get it for you.

[randomfandomworks]

You pushed the eyeshadow palette to the side as Rumi laid below you, watching you decide on what to do next. You’d been bugging her for a while now about designing her show makeup and it was on this dull day in the middle of their break that she had finally agreed.

It wasn’t professional, or high effort, it was simply an idol and her partner sprawled out in bed. The weight of your chest laid on hers, your elbows propping you up just enough to look down at her as you created your masterpiece. You placed some blush to her cheeks, a light dust of color to finish off what you’d been working so hard on.

You set the blush aside, readjusting your weight to look down at Rumi once more, your eyes wandering over her features to take in what you had created. Halfway through your observations you stopped, your gaze lingering on her patterns. Slowly you brought your hand up, brushing your fingers over the patterns that spread across her forehead. Your eyes traced the movement memorizing the shape as your fingers ran along her skin.

“I’m glad you don’t cover them up.” You spoke softly, your fingers moving further up to tuck back some of her loose hairs.

She looked at you silently for a moment, watching you focus, holding onto the gentleness within your stare. “Yeah?” She responded, her voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, bringing your hand down to cup her cheek, “Yeah.” You finalized meeting her gaze.

A warmth settled in her chest, something about you, your acceptance of what she’d tried to hide for so long, made her fall even harder for you.

And maybe, she thought after a moment, you’d have to do her makeup more often.

[the-faunaglade-collective]

People don't talk about this scene enough, so I am going to.

[Found picture online after much searching]

Merlin fans tend to talk about the ending of the show, offering alternative endings which are interesting and exciting. However, I feel that not enough people appreciate those small scenes in Merlin that make all the difference.

This is a moment from the secret sharer (that one episode with our bestie Alator). The LIGHTING in this scene is phenomenal. The props and set design? Stunning. The camera angles? Beautiful. The way Colin Morgan is sat so that the light from the window hits his face at the perfect angle? Amazing.

There is so much thought and care in everything in this show, and don't even get me started on the music! The soundtrack is SO GOOD!! I understand the importance of major scenes and why they are talked about so much, but honestly it's the small moments that really make the show what it is for me.