Can’t Get the Words Out

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s been awfully distant lately. You don’t think your heart can take what you know he’s about to say. 

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: Angst 

a/n: I’m so happy everyone enjoyed my first oneshot!! Here’s another one!

Masterlist

“You always bake at 3am, or do you have a bake sale coming up we don’t know about?” Tony’s voice carries across the kitchen, startling you into dropping the cupcake you were icing. You reach down to grab it and throw him a glare. 

“If I was having a bake sale, you just lost your cut of the profits.” 

“Doesn’t work that way, Marie Callender. I provide the kitchen, I get some of the cash.” He grabs a cookie off one of the many pans strewn about the kitchen. “Seriously though, what’s with the baked goods?” 

You sigh, abandoning the piping bag and wiping the excess icing from your hands onto your apron. It was Bucky’s. You gave it to him after he’d made you dinner for the third time. 

In all honesty, you don’t really have a reason for why you were baking enough to feed an army at three in the morning. You aren’t notorious for supplying the team with sweets, nor are you aware of any hidden personal hobbies involving the kitchen. You have just tried everything else already. You tried reading a book, taking a walk, watching a movie, and even writing in a journal. You knew that last one wouldn’t do anything for you, but it was after you tried to leave the compound in the late hours of the night and Steve was already waiting at the door to turn you back around. It was a last resort.

You tried it all and absolutely nothing could get your mind off of how distant Bucky was being, how standoffish he had been acting for the past 3 weeks. It came out of nowhere, honestly. You’ve been together for years and nothing seemed amiss. Up until a few weeks ago, you were so unbelievably happy you didn’t think anything could go wrong.

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family tree ; bruce wayne.

pairing ; rpatz!bruce wayne x gn!reader

synopsis ; bruce didn't think he'd find family in you, of all people.

words ; 2.1k

themes ; fluff, slight angst, sorta childhood friends to almost-but-not-yet-there-lovers ??

warnings / includes ; mentions of death, allusions to childhood trauma, one mention of scars, bruce is a dramatic emo softie, alfred is just worried™, reader is a smartie, bruce is on the "save the bees" agenda from now on, an extension of the found family trope i'd say

main masterlist.

Bruce didn’t like it outside.

He wasn’t a fan of the way the sun would glare angrily into his tired eyes, nor was he too keen on the way the wind was blowing the dark strands of his hair away from his forehead. The birds were too loud, the ground felt uncomfortably soft beneath his boots, and he constantly had to raise his palms to gently wave away a bumblebee that merrily buzzed past his nose every five minutes. 

But he liked you. He liked the way the sun looked on your skin, bathing you in a warm honey glow. He liked how you’d pluck at blades of grass and toss them for the wind’s mercy. He liked how you’d comment on how pretty he looked in his black hoodie despite it being so very hot outside. 

WASTELAND, BABY! the series.

dear science series. main masterlist. about me.

ONE. nina cried power ; (frenchie) 1.9k ↳ he calls you a plethora of endearing french nicknames, but you call him an asshole.

TWO. almost (sweet music) ; (robin buckley) 3.7k ↳ five instances robin fell in love with you just a bit more.

THREE. movement ; (natasha romanoff) 1.9k ↳ dancing with her was a waltz of death. your feet were bleeding, but you no longer cared.

FOUR. no plan ; (peter parker) 1.7k ↳ it was the small, spontaneous moments with you, peter realized, that made all of this worth it.

FIVE. nobody ; (jon snow) 9.0k ↳ a child of sand and a child of snow—destined never to last, but somehow, you made it work.

SIX. to noise making ; (steve rogers) 4.5k ↳ pure silence never sat well with steve. it reminded him of all the time he had lost frozen in ice. so when he heard your loose, disjointed hums coming from the compound’s kitchen, he came seeking your voice out more and more.

SEVEN. as it was ; (logan howlett) 9.1k ↳ you first met logan as weapon x, wiped clean of any memory of his past life. he had nearly killed you then. and now, almost two years later, he’s pressing kisses over the very same scars his adamantium claws had inflicted.

EIGHT. shrike ; (rick grimes) ↳ alexandria was a safe haven. but it wasn’t home, no matter how hard rick tried for it to be.

NINE. talk ; (bruce wayne) ↳ it’d been years since you died. bruce stood silent in front of your grave, hair damp from the cold rain. you approached him from behind, tipping your umbrella forward just enough so the tears of the sky would stop mingling with his own.

TEN. be ; (sansa stark) ↳ sansa only knew love from tales of gallant knights and distressed damsels. she thought love was meant to be loud and extravagant. you taught her that quiet love was just as meaningful—that love didn’t have to always be a statement. love could just be there, and that was enough.

ELEVEN. dinner & diatribes ; (adrian chase) ↳ the two of you only brought the worst out of each other, but you just couldn’t stay away.

TWELVE. would that i ; (din djarin) ↳ din didn’t consider himself a very jealous person. no, he wasn’t affected at all when the kid seemed to want to spend more time with you than him. not even a little bit.

THIRTEEN. sunlight ; (jesse pinkman) ↳ yellow was not a color he often saw in alaska. that was, until you came into his life.

FOURTEEN. wasteland, baby! ; (marc spector) ↳ five times marc spector tries to tell you he loves you—and one time he does.

nobody ; jon snow.

pairing ; jon snow x martell!gn!reader

synopsis ; a child of sand and a child of snow—destined never to last, but somehow, you made it work.

words ; 9.0k

themes ; angst, action, fluff, healer au

warnings / includes ; heavy violence/gore/injury, wars/fighting, trauma, ramsay bolton, implications of sex, multiple mentions of death, reader is a bastard to oberyn martell, reader loathes the cold, a couple game of thrones spoilers, mentions of other characters in the show, and finally, fuck season eight !!

main masterlist.

You were fifteen when you first met Jon Snow.

The air was saturated with the ambrosial scents of spiced mulled wine and the rumbling thunder of tipsy cackling. Alcohol dripped from full golden chalices, heaping baskets of steaming bread rolls were passed around the mess hall, and plates were piled high with peppered mutton chops and creamed potatoes. You were seated near the end of the long table, quietly sipping on your honeyed apple cider as you politely smiled and nodded at the young nobleman who sat across from you, detailing a rather elaborate story of how he had hunted down a bear with nothing but a single hatchet and a lick of courage. 

You didn’t buy a single word of it, but the exaggerated story was mildly entertaining nonetheless. You’d rather listen to his tipsy rambling than watch King Baratheon stick his tongue down a random maiden’s throat. 

nina cried power ; frenchie.

pairing ; frenchie x gn!reader

synopsis ; he calls you a plethora of endearing french nicknames, but you call him an asshole.

words ; 1.9k

themes ; angst, fluff, mild action

warnings / includes ; profanity, kissing, blood and injuries, near death experiences and emotional constipation <3 a bunch of french pet names, frenchie is lovesick, reader is part of the boys gang, the rest of the members are mentioned, hughie and reader are also mentioned to be close friends

main masterlist.

The rag between your teeth tasted disgusting. Sweat and grime and flecks of blood stained the once-white fabric—which had come from Frenchie’s own shirt he tore to shreds to bind your wounds. You bit down harder, tongue retracting further down your throat in hazy revulsion, groaning in pain when you felt his hands all over your abdomen, doused with your dark ichor, his expression heavy-set with frantic concern.

“Hold still, mon amour,” he said, brows drawing together when you ignored him completely, roaring obscenities behind the fabric and thrashed even harder. What a fucking asshole. Memories of the first time you met Frenchie flashed behind your eyelids—he had stuck a gun beneath your jaw with a snarl and the rest was history. A complete one-eighty to his expression now. “HUGHIE, HOLD THEM DOWN!” he screamed, completely strung-up.

Faintly, you registered another pair of hands pinning you to the cold tiles of the floor, and your friend’s stuttering melded into the cavernous cacophony ringing in your ears. It felt as if a fire was eating you alive, trying to crawl its way from inside out. Your skin was hot, nearly scalding to the touch.

You still couldn’t really remember what happened. 

— 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐮. 𝐬.

summary: anonymous musician, kogane, had been dropping non-hints of who she was since she first began releasing music to the students of tokyo metropolitan technical college nine months ago to the frustration of everyone ever. 

getou suguru, long-time (arguably #1) fan and campus heartthrob with a reputation is determined to find out exactly who she is before he graduates, and he has no idea where to start. that is, until resident idiot and best friend and roommate, gojo satoru, points him in the direction of you, the musical genius behind kogane.

pairing: getou suguru x fem!reader warnings: sm and college au! swearing, mentions of sex, all around, angst, fluff, gojo is annoying (lovingly), occasional writing, reader wears glasses <3 and slowburn status: in progress, updates every wednesday and sunday :) tag list: open (via ask please!)

a/n: wanted to do a social media au for who knows how long (2+ years?) and i thought w how little time ill be having to actually write (and how i enjoy doing it) this could be a good alternative! tag list is tentatively open!! w limited spots :)

now, enjoy!

☁️ playlist ☁️

y/n’s friends

getou’s friends

i: polar opposites

ii: the level of commitment

iii: getou suguru, meet… you (w)

iv: not like that

v: here’s where you start

vi: and here’s a line of thought

vii: here goes nothing

viii: baby steps

ix: the autumn festival (w)

𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑫𝑶𝑽𝑬 - chapter 3: of things buried and hidden.

SITH!OBI-WAN KENOBI x reader

contains: just more angst really, ✨ flashbacks ✨, obi-wan being so incredibly in over his head

note: HELLO!!! thank you so much for all your support on the series, i know i have been terribly inconsistent with updates, but part 3 of the Little Dove series is finally here! some hard hitting revelations and really just a TON of emotions in this one. it's pretty long, but i hope u have fun reading!

series masterlist

TAGLIST IS OPEN!

𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑫𝑶𝑽𝑬 - chapter 2: like a bird in a cage.

SITH!OBI-WAN x reader

contains: injections?, sort of abduction but no graphic violence

series masterlist

TAGLIST IS OPEN!

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𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑫𝑶𝑽𝑬 - chapter 1: bygones be bygones.

SITH!OBI-WAN x reader

contains: slow burn. painfully slow slow burn.

series masterlist 

TAGLIST IS OPEN!

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𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑫𝑶𝑽𝑬 — 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - a night raid led by the infamous Darth Furore fares, by all accounts, miserably. but the Sith Lord leaves with one, small victory - you, a distant memory from his past. trapped in a world of politics and manners you don't know the rules of, you set off on a mission to salvage what is left of your once almost-lover: you try to save Obi-Wan Kenobi - from himself.

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 - abuse of power, kidnapping, noncon drug usage, slight psychological manipulation/warfare, angst, NO 18+ CONTENT

(it's not as dark as it sounds, i swear)

𝐄 𝐍 𝐓 𝐑 𝐈 𝐄 𝐒 :

chapter 1 - bygones be bygones

chapter 2 - like a bird in a cage

chapter 3 - of things buried and hidden (NEW!)

TAGLIST HOUSEKEEPING -

the taglist is currently open <3 do comment here, on any of the parts, or send me an inbox message to be added!

Lavender - Obi-Wan Kenobi x Wife!Reader

Warnings: angst, war, canon typical injuries and violence, injury description, blood, nudity but nothing smutty

The panic in the temple was overbearing. Whispers spoke of the end of the war, rumours rounded back to your ears about the Jedi’s soon to be success. But you couldn’t help but feel anxious. Your stomach twisted in knots every time someone brought up the finale of the war that went on for decades, even dentures, well before your lifetime.

You almost couldn’t believe you’d be there to see it. You pictured yourself much older, in a rocking chair somewhere in the middle of nowhere living a much quieter life. But not at 27, still a Jedi, and still carrying the burden of fighting this war. You didn’t want the war to continue, but you feared what would become of you after it ended. What would the Jedi do afterwards? Would you finally be able to run away and live the life you always dreamed of with your husband, without any repercussions?

One could only dream.

LOSING MY RELIGION (Din Djarin x f!reader) Masterlist

(header by Neil Burn)

FANDOM: The Mandalorian / Din Djarin

RATING: Mature (adult intimacy from chapter 8 on)

No Minors Please: My work is 18+. I will respectfully ask minors to turn away to protect themselves and me. Thank you.

SUMMARY: Set post season 2, a Mandalorian comes looking for you with an assignment from an old friend, sending you on a mission and a union that you both need.

NOTES: A romance built on strong mutual respect and kindred spirit. Reader is post-Order 66 Jedi (exploratory corps, non-knight). Each chapter takes a Din/you/Din POV format. This series is ongoing. 

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LOSING MY RELIGION

Chapter 1: The Healer Chapter 2: The Recruit Chapter 3: The Admirer Chapter 4: Resonance Chapter 5: The Attack Chapter 6: The Survivor Chapter 7: The Substitute Chapter 8: The Consort Chapter 9: Reunion Chapter 10: The Deception Chapter 11: Fusion Chapter 12: The Camp Chapter 13: (working on it)

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EXTRAS

Complication and Yearning: When Ahsoka Met Luke - a direct prequel to Losing My Religion

Din / Dance - Din doesn’t understand the point of dancing. You teach him what makes it worth doing.

A Rare Treat - a little drabble about braiding Din’s hair while he sleeps

Eyes Closed, Comm Open - Din communes with your heart. (Can be read as part of the LMR universe or alone)

Is Somebody Jealous - A Din Djarin x Little Bird (with Cobb Vanth) six-sentence ficlet written as part of a follower celebration.

She Probably Gives You Butterflies - A Din Djarin x Little Bird (with Ahsoka Tano) six-sentence ficlet written as part of a follower celebration.

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ARTWORK INSPIRED BY LOSING MY RELIGION

Shiari questions Din about his helmet - by @literallydontlook inspired by Chapter 6

Mala puts flowers in LB’s hair - by @literallydontlook inspired by Chapter 7

Din Djarin eats ribs at a festival  - by @mjpens inspired by Chapter 7

___

COMMISSIONED ARTWORK

Din and Little Bird by @miranhas-art based on Chapter 11

PLEASE NOTE: I write my stories with myself in mind, but I try to keep them as reader characters as inclusive as possible. This art is not meant to represent all readers. Your reader is you. My reader is me, and when I commission artwork, I usually do so with myself as reference. I write what I yearn and yearn to see what I write, and I can’t do it myself, so I choose to support fanart artists. They do beautiful work and there’s no way I’m not going to share it with you!!! 

MASTERLIST

The Mandalorian Soulmate AU: You can only see colour once you look into your soulmate's eyes for the first time.

Din Djarin had accepted from the moment he put on his helmet for the first time, the lonely life awaiting him. Or so he has tried to tell himself, for so long now, that maybe he has started to believe it.

He can't remember much from his younger years, back when he still had his parents, but one thing has always stuck with him: they were soulmates.

Even now, after so many years, now that he has forgotten his father's face and the feeling of his mother's embrace, he can still remember the way they had loved each other. Can still remember the way they never failed to describe colours to him; The way that his eyes are brown like his hair, like the trunk of a tree and the earth when there's no grass to cover it. The way he had always been drawn to green things, unknowingly, as if he found comfort in a colour that was just another shade of grey.

He can still remember what it truly means to find your other half.

It ends quietly after dinner.

Osamu stares at his empty plate, tiny splotches of curry the only remnants left of his meal. You thought it'd be okay to allow yourself one last dinner together before speaking. You let yourself indulge in the sight of him enjoying his food, his soft cheeks bulging slightly with each spoonful, eyes bright the way they always are at a successful meal. You let the flavours of the broth seep into your tongue, gave yourself permission to taste his care and pride one last time dropping the curtain at the end of this long, tiresome show.

“Osamu, we can’t drag this out.”

Silence had followed your words. Moments of you looking at him, and him refusing to look back. You didn’t need to explain what this was. He knew.

“I,” you breathe, “I know you’d never say it. So I will.”

He doesn’t respond. His eyes remain fixed on the once sparkling white, now dirty plate. It gives you the courage you need to push through.

“It’s been months. Months. Of us trying to make this work, trying to salvage whatever’s left of this relationship, but you can’t—” your voice cracks, and your fists clench, “—we can’t keep hurting ourselves like this.”

“Why,” he finally looks up at you, and your chest caves in on itself at the crystals gathering along his waterline. “Why now?”

You understand what he means. Why now, when he’s finally started to get his life and restaurant on track. Why now, when you haven’t had a fight or arguments in weeks. Why now, when you haven’t done anything for the months leading up to this. You squeeze your eyes shut, ignore the salt tracking down your cheeks, “Because it'd be too late otherwise.”

“But we’ve—we’ve been doin’ okay lately, haven’t we?” he tries, desperately, foolishly, to stop the sandy grains of this relationship from slipping through his fingers. “We haven’t—haven’t fought, or—or yelled, or anythin’ like that. I thought"—his breath catches in his throat—“I thought ya still loved me.”

Your hand comes up to hide the ugly downward twist of your mouth and the shuddering sob that’s been building up. Because he’s right. You haven’t had any arguments for weeks, haven’t thrown snippy retorts or muttered curses under your breaths about the other. The skin of your relationship no longer struggles to hold your simmering bitterness at one another.

Instead, it sits undisturbed. The space that once held your feelings for each other now lies almost barren and void.

You preferred the noise of fights and slammed doors to the flat silence that had permeated your apartment.

“I do,” your voice is brittle with the ache that it carries, “Of course, I do. That’s why we have to do this.”

Because you do love him, a reckless, compelling love that has blinded you to try for him as long as you have, one that always leaves you sick at the mere thought of it. You would turn thief and rascal to entrench your devotion in his heart, and that is as much a fact as it is a weapon.

It is entirely because you refuse to lose this love that you know this needs to end. If you had let this continue, let the flickering flame of your feelings disappear with only a whisper of smoke to speak of it, this would’ve been easier to do. But it would’ve been the end of you, and the end of him.

You listen to his shuddering exhale, the gasping breath he inhales, and bite down at the palm over your mouth.

Selfishly, cruelly, you would feel this pain and force it onto him, over and over again, if it meant the chance of a different future for both of you, together.

yes and

and 

Astronomy

summary: Crossing paths with a seriously injured Din forces the two of you to come to terms with your relationship.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x gn!reader

warnings: injuries (incl. burns, bites, blood), hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

rating: T

word count: 2.578k

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

Glavis is the last place where you expected to see him again. You have to reach for the hood of your poncho and pull it off to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. The prominent glint of silver beskar is hard to miss, as is the long spear that juts from the jetpack upon his back. What’s more off-putting is the heavy limp that carries him down the dark street in haphazard strides.

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Stand By Me - Part 2

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed this story. Your interactions keep me writing and inspired.

Masterlist

In the morning, you find Rhett fast asleep on your couch. Sometime during the night, he removed his boots and placed them side by side under your coffee table. He looks a little uncomfortable crammed on your couch, one sock-covered foot resting on the floor. You take a moment to study him, his face relaxed in slumber. He’s always been handsome, but he's even more so now with his golden lashes resting against his cheek and his long hair mussed. One hand rests on his stomach and you see his long, lean fingers twitch while he sleeps. His other hand is behind his head.

When you take a step forward, the floor creaks and his blue eyes snap open. He shoots up, tension lining his whole body, but it dissipates the moment he sees you. He twists his neck to the side with an audible crack and you feel a rush of guilt thinking of him sleeping out here. You’re about to apologize when he speaks.

"Sleep okay?" He asks. The grizzled tone of his voice makes your stomach swoop and it takes you a minute to respond.

“I did, thank you. Do you, um, want some coffee or something? I was going to make some for myself…"

“That’d be good,” he says with a soft smile. He rakes a hand through his hair to clear it from his face. On the table, his phone buzzes and he bends down to get it, the corner of his lip pulling up briefly. “It’s Ma,” he explains. “Checking in.”

He texts something back before dropping the phone on the couch to follow you into the kitchen. It’s strange to have a man in your space and with the way he follows so closely behind, you’re self-conscious of every little thing. It was silly and maybe a little vain, but you did your hair and make up before coming out this morning, even though you’re still in your pjs.

“I don’t have anything fancy. It’s just Folgers,” you tell Rhett, pulling down the big red tub and scooping out the powder into the coffee filter.

“I’m not a fancy guy,” he says, smiling at you. He leans against the counter and folds his arms across his chest, continuing to watch you.