#ghost in the shell au i repeat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nsharks · 2 years ago

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bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part sixteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.2k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

"I can't believe I woke up early for this."

You loosen your muscles, turning to dead weight in Ghost's arms, before using the awkward position to slip away.

"No one said you had to be here," Ghost throws over his shoulder before his gaze fleets back to yours. "Good. Again."

Blue groans as you reposition yourself for the basic defense maneuver. You can see why she'd find this boring— Ghost started you off with a move so basic it was almost insulting when he explained it. But you quickly realized his reasoning. Each time you do it, your pulse tampers down less and less while in his arms. He's had to remind you a few times to "Breathe, Twix"— the order so quietly uttered into the shell of your ear that Blue likely didn't even notice. Perhaps you have grown used to taking orders from him, or maybe having Blue close by is helping, because you've been able to ward off the threat of panic so far.

"Fine, I'm out of here," Blue rolls her eyes the second you've finished the move again. "Let me know when you—" she jabs a finger at Ghost, "—decide to make things more interesting." As she leaps off the log she'd been perched upon, she adds: "Oh, and don't get too close, Ghost. She might bite."

"So I've heard."

Heat rises to your cheeks. And then�� you're alone with him. You take a swig of water from the canister Blue lent you to ignore the awkward feeling in your chest. "Again?" You wipe your mouth. "Or have I passed your test?"

"Test?" he repeats, the gravel in his voice rolling over the word as his brow lifts in question.

"Well, I haven't... had a repeat of last time, and it's been an hour. I think I've proved that I'm ready for something a little more..."

"More what?"

More interesting.

"Hand-to-hand, I guess. Something harder."

He rubs his jaw, as if to feign consideration. "Right, then. Let's try another one."

The next one he shows you is still simple, except you fail every other time. Basically, he gets behind you and you have to sidestep to avoid the trap of his arms. Somehow, Ghost's movements are light as a feather even though he's built like a rock.

But then you get better at it. The next two days pass in much the same manner until you start to react a bit faster. He teaches you a few more basic tactics. How to wriggle your wrist out of someone's hold. How to avoid being grabbed from the front by rolling to the ground. All defense. After hours spent with him, he doesn't even have to remind you to breathe anymore. Chopping wood in the evenings helps, too. You go to bed exhausted and wake up ready to practice before Ghost even touches your shoulder.

On the third day, he gets you up even earlier. You cram your wool-covered toes into boots, confine your hair in a hasty bun, and follow him to the clearing that has become your makeshift training ground. It takes you a moment to register that some things are different: his boots have been replaced by sneakers, and his jeans by loose, black gym shorts. The exposed skin is strange, making your eyes widen. If Blue were awake, she'd certainly comment.

His calves mirror the strength of the rest of him, and on the left leg, swirling ink catches your eye, reminiscent of the tattoos you discovered when tending to his wound. Skulls and a dagger; perhaps corny, but fitting for him.

"Have you tried it?" His voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Tried what?"

"The bow."

A white cloud forms around your mouth as you nod. "Needed some getting used to, like you said."

Yesterday you had a hard time shooting a chipmunk you wanted for lunch, so you spent the early afternoon firing arrows at oaks until the new bow started to feel like an extension of your limbs again.

"Let me know if I need to adjust the string."

"Will do," you say, almost mumbling.

When you reach the familiar circle of trees, you bounce once on your toes and crack your knuckles. Ghost retrieves something from his pocket. A roll of gauze. It is tossed at you without warning, and your hands fumble to grab it.

"Wrap up," he commands. "Your hands will thank you for it."

You look up at him, brows raised, but begin covering your palms and knuckles. When you're done, you throw the roll back to him. Ghost stretches his arms above his head and splays his feet into a firm stance, jerking his chin at you in a go-ahead motion. Your brows furrow as you try to understand what the fuck he's doing.

"Go on. Get ready."

"Um. Ready for what?"

"A little hand-to-hand."

Your mouth falls open. "What?"

He shrugs. "That's what you wanted, right? I think you're ready for it."

"That's not what I meant," you almost laugh, shaking your head. "I didn't mean I want to— to fight you. I just meant we don't have to stick to the basics."

"We won't." There is the slightest trace of amusement in his voice, so faint you wonder if it's even there. "You have ten seconds to get ready, Twix."

"I don't even—" you sputter, eyes flying open. If you weren't awake before, you are now. He seems completely serious, his hands in fists and his shoulders squared.

"Five."

"Oh, fuck me," you exhale, balling up your bandaged hands. Did he get you up at this hour so there was no chance of Blue joining? He didn't want her to watch him finally annihilate you? You don't think he would seriously hurt you, not after everything, but that doesn't mean your heart doesn't begin to thump wildly when the seconds are up. Neither of you makes the first move; you are focused on keeping yourself distant, and he is circling you like a predator, flicking his eyes along the length of you.

"What the fuck is that stance? I could just tap you and you'd fall over." His amusement has faded. "Is that how I showed you to stand when chopping wood?"

You shake your head, teeth gritted, and fix it, spreading your boots against the soil.

"Better."

Then, he's lunging. You forget everything about your stance and prance to the side like a skittish deer. There is a moment of relief when you successfully dodge him, only for it to abruptly end when he darts around your back and hooks an arm around your neck. Your heart skips over a beat. Holy shit is he fast.

"Be aware of your surroundings at all times," he chastises against the top of your hair. His hold is not aiming to fully restrain you, so when you claw your nails into his arm, it loosens and you slip away, staggering three strides before facing him with your fists up.

"What's the point of raising your fists if you're not going to hit me?" Ghost circles you again, and you have to shift your feet to keep up with him. "Come on, nurse. Where should you aim?"

"You're too tall." Your chest heaves. "I... I can't reach your face or neck without you blocking."

"Use the height difference to your advantage. Reach places that I can't."

You pause to think about it, studying him.

Ghost almost growls. "Stop hesitating. I could have killed you by now."

A mix of annoyance and determination makes you leap forward, jabbing your knuckles at the part of him where you know his liver would be. He captures you by the elbow before the blow can land, and sends you stumbling to the side, a few wisps of hair cascading over your face.

"Liver. Not bad. I might've let you have it if you moved quicker."

A hiss leaves your lips as you whirl around and punch directly into his core this time. He allows the hit, but your knuckles ram into solid muscle instead of the vulnerable stomach you hoped for, and you recoil with a wave of your hand, cussing under your breath.

"You hurt yourself more than you hurt me."

"Well, should I just kick you in the dick then?" you retort without thinking, flexing your fingers. Luckily, the gauze absorbed most of the damage.

"That's always an option."

His tone is serious, to the point that you almost give it a try, but then he's closing in on you again, sending you back to the defensive. He doesn't hold back. You run in circles and duck frantically, earning a few hits to your ribs. He doesn't use enough force to send you down to the ground, but enough to knock the wind out of you. Rapid breaths fire through your lungs and beads of sweat percolate your hairline. Ghost, on the other hand, appears unaffected.

"Fight back," he says in a mild voice; almost bored.

You nearly throw your arms up. "I would if you'd give me a fucking chance."

"You said not to coddle you."

"I'm aware. That doesn't mean you have to—"

Your spine suddenly meets something hard. A tree. He's backed you into it without you even realizing. When Ghost takes another swipe, you dip your head down and then use his recovery time to grab onto a branch and hoist yourself up.

You're barely perched upon it when a hand grips your ankle and drags you back down, an audible gasp reverberating in your chest as you land flat on your back with Ghost on top. His hand quickly cradles the back of your skull before it can crack on a hard tree root, while his other hand captures both of your wrists.

"You good?" Although he is the one who has you effectively pinned, his tone seems sincere. He scans your face from your forehead to your parted lips.

"Just... peachy."

His brows furrow. "What was your plan once you got up there?"

Labored breathing splinters your voice. "I didn't have much of a plan, really."

He speaks flatly. "I can tell."

"You had me cornered," you point out.

"You should have been—"

"Aware of my surroundings," you finish for him, exhaling deep through your nose. "I know."

Your eyes shift around, from his covered face to where his chest just barely presses into yours. It's all so close. Uncomfortably close. You can feel the steady pace of his heart against your sternum, and make out the faintest flecks of green in his eyes.

An ounce of fear and something else you can't quite discern balls up in your stomach, making you swallow. You've been pinned like this before and nearly had your face eaten. Ghost simply stares at you, as if waiting for you to make a move, but when you tug on your wrists, his grip doesn't relent.

"Could you... could you maybe get off of me?"

He shifts some weight off you, if only by a little. "Relax and think," he murmurs. "What are your options here?" The curve of his lips tightens before he adds, "Besides biting my nose off. I'd like to keep that for now."

With a sigh, your eyes slide up to the awakening sky. Hues of violet and orange stare down at you. "Do I... do I even have any options? You must weigh like a ton." The words are past your lips before you can shut your mouth.

"You always have options."

"Doesn't mean any of them will be effective," you say.

His eyes darken, and the green disappears. "Why do you do that?"

"Um... do what?"

"Doubt yourself. After all that you have survived." He sounds irritated.

"As if you haven't doubted me?" You can't help it; you scoff. "You told her I wouldn't come back that time I went on my own. I mean, I'm still weak, remember? No amount of chopping wood will make me as strong as you or those men who almost killed us."

"It's not about strength," he replies.

"That's easy for you to say," you wiggle your wrists for emphasis. "You have nothing to be afraid of. You were cut out for this shit from the start."

"I have everything to be afraid of." His eyes narrow, but his voice softens. "And so were you."

"Me?" Your voice slightly elevates, and a lick of anger curls within you. "I should be in grad school right now, or maybe I would've quit nursing and gone into something useless and hate my life, but I was never meant to kill anyone, let alone fight them. I was meant to be young and stupid and make mistakes. Now, if I make a fucking mistake, it will cost me my life." Your nostrils flare as you huff, sending a piece of hair flying up into his face, and you writhe beneath him. "Get off of me, Ghost."

But he doesn't.

Beats of silence linger in the small gap between your bodies.

You should feel embarrassed for saying all those things, but instead, you think about what he said:

Don't hesitate.

The ball inside you is a fiery mix of emotions that you usually try your damn hardest to ignore and break and shove away.

But now you let it spread through your body like a sizzling tide, from the tips of your fingers down to your toes and... to your knee. Before you can change your mind, you slam it upward as hard as you can into the apex of his groin.

"Fuck," Ghost mutters, the only sign of any pain aside from the brief moment that he closes his eyes.

His hold loosens only by a little, but it's enough for you to slip out from under him and find your way back to your feet, your chest rising and falling.

He clears his throat after a moment and rises.

"Good." The two of you share a stare-off for a few seconds before he shakes his head, saying again: "Good, Twix. More of that."

You rip your gaze away from him, cheeks hot, and say nothing as you snatch the canister and bring it to your lips, but the water does little to cool you down.

You shiver in the bitterness of twilight, your fingers red and numb, wishing for a pair of gloves. The fireflies are coming out, dots of luminescence darting around you. You swing the axe down again, throat raw as you grunt, and then you add the broken logs to the growing stack. Sudden light footsteps announce the end of your alone time.

"It's me," Blue greets kindly.

You drop the axe, hands feeling stiff, and turn to face her with a breathless smile. "Hey. What are you doing out here?"

"Checking on you. Ghost went hard on you this morning, huh?" she says with a sigh. "I could hear you guys. You were a bit... loud. Made it hard to sleep."

"Not too hard. I'm… I'm good."

If she is unconvinced, she doesn't comment on it. Rather, she hugs you. A warm one. You return the embrace before she pulls away.

"I also came because I wanted to invite you to a bonfire."

"Bonfire?"

"Well, with all your..." her eyes flicker to the pile of logs you've conjured over the past hour. "...special workouts, we have a lot of wood now. I told Ghost to make a big fire outside and we can cook dinner over it. It'll be fun, come on. Ghost is making tea, too."

Soon enough, your sore fingers are tingling, holding a warm, ceramic mug of tea. Ghost chucks another bundle of wood into the fire, spitting out smoke and embers, and sits on a tree stump while Blue takes the folding chair. Your hair is down, tucked behind your ears, and a patchwork quilt Blue grabbed from her room lays across your lap. The mug burns pleasantly against your lips when you take a sip, the herbal taste sliding down your throat. Whatever plants he used to make it work together perfectly. It reminds you of the tea your mom used to make when you were sick.

"Do you like it more well-done or is this okay?" Blue asks, meticulously spinning the skewered squirrel meat over the fire.

"That's good, thank you."

Ghost cooks their dinner, and the three of you eat and sip in a comforting silence. You avoid looking at him, opting for the starry sky above your head, where bold stars beam even brighter than the fireflies. It's quite nice. When you're done, you toss the bones into the fire and listen to them splinter.

Blue breaks the silence. "Would you rather be burned alive or be attacked by a bunch of squirrels with rabies?"

You take another sip of tea. "How many squirrels, exactly?"

She taps her chin. "One hundred."

"I think if it were fifty, I could handle them. One hundred, probably not. I'll choose being burned."

She makes a face. "That is a terrible death."

"Most deaths are terrible."

"Fair enough. Ghost?"

For the first time since this morning, you steal a glance. His elbows rest upon his splayed knees, and the orange flames reflect in his eyes as if they were twin black, mirrors. "I could handle the squirrels."

She snorts a laugh. "Even you can't survive rabies, though."

He shrugs. "Takes some time to kill you."

"Let's play a different game," you interject. "Maybe something a little less... morbid tonight."

"Like what?" Blue chimes.

You shrug indifferently. "What other ones do you know?"

"Not that many. You tell us one, Twix."

"Well, I know one good one. You have to act something out and then we'll guess what it is. But you can't talk."

"Oh, that's easy."

"Try it, then," you nod at her.

She leaps up from the chair, nearly spilling her tea in the process. Without hesitation, she puts on a stoic expression and begins shooting finger guns. Quiet laughter shakes your shoulders.

"Are you, um... Ghost?" you guess, making her throw her arms up.

"How did you guess so quickly?"

"It was a bit obvious."

"Not to me," Ghost murmurs. "Terrible impression, kid."

Across the fire, you glance at him again, and his eyes meet yours, reminding you of the events that took place and the words that you spat. Emotions pulse against your ribs, like a swarm of flickering fireflies, but you fail to catch and examine any of them.

A tug on your arm ends the shared look. Tea splatters around the rim of your mug as Blue ushers you up. "Your turn now."

"Alright, alright."

You decide not to feel humiliated with both pairs of eyes on you. They've both seen much stranger things than you act out a squirrel, which must be a good impression because Ghost guesses it right away.

A sudden crack of lightning in the distance puts an end to the game before Ghost can have a turn, which you suspect he is pleased about. He puts out the fire just before clouds roll in, blocking out the stars, and a drizzle of rain begins. Back inside, you kick off your boots and sink to the sofa as Blue says goodnight. Once she’s in her room, Ghost pauses in the threshold of the hall and speaks over his shoulder.

"Get some sleep. You'll need it for tomorrow, even if it's raining.”

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction #cod #zombie apocolypse au

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idontknowtheendd · 7 months ago

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I wonder if youve ever seen Buffalo66 it always makes me think of Kidnapper!rafe 🫢

a/n: I ADORE buffalo 66. thinking of the car scene with him… oh yes oh yes pls.

ALSO, i know that @nemesyaaa made a buffalo 66 au first!! Go check hers out too!! I just wanted to put it out there i am in no way trying to copy anyone, just answering an ask (:

warnings: kidnapper!rafe, mentions of guns and murder !

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, fixing your hair and clutching your bag closer to your side as you opened the door, spotting a man standing there on the pay phone. You heard him shouting at his mom from inside, and you could only wonder what he was talking about.

You began to walk past him, when he turned to look at you, phone now hung back up.

“Excuse me, miss.” He spoke, running a hand through his buzzed hair. You stopped in your tracks, standing in front of him, looking at him with confusion written on your face. He stepped back, glancing around the place, before his hand shot up, putting one hand over your mouth, and grabbing your body with his other, holding you back when you attempted to run.

You let out a muffled scream for help, his mouth ghosting over the outer shell of your ear as he leaned in. “Shut up, shut the fuck up.” He murmured in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Don’t say a word or I’ll take it right out of your face.” He told you, you still attempting to fight against him, but he was too strong for you.

“Shut your mouth, shut your mouth.” And finally, you listened. You stopped fighting, tears beginning to run down your face. He began to walk, and forced you to walk along with him. He dragged you down a hallway, and then down a stairwell.

“Just shut up and you’ll be okay.” He told you as he pulled you outside, you began to let out whines against his hand, in hopes that someone, anyone would hear. But with his hand still on your mouth, it was useless. He shoved you against the car, repeating the words “Shut up!”

He finally took his hands off of your mouth to push the car door open, his body pressed against yours to keep you pinned to the car.

“You’re hurting me!” You complained.

“Yeah?” He asked breathily, “Shut your mouth or I’ll really hurt you. You want me to really hurt you?” He retorted, opening your car door and shoving you in. “Get in the car. Get in, c’mon!”

You went into the passengers seat, him getting in the drivers.

“How do I get this thing back?” He asked, you furrowing your eyebrows. You breathed heavily, him looking at you. “Point to the thing!”

“Right there.” You moved it for him, the car starting.

“I can’t see out the window. Give me something to wipe the window.” He panted, running a hand through his head again. “Give me something to wipe the window!” He repeated louder when you made no movement. You listened, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat.

“Okay, you know what? You go out. You clean it. Get out of the car.” He told you, you standing up quickly and grabbing the wipes, him following you outside while you scrubbed the windows down, before he got angry and shoved his body up against yours again, moving your hands faster.

“Hurry up, I don’t got all day.” He spoke, “see how it is when you fucking wash your car? See how nice? God, this is filthy. Is that how your house is? Filthy like that?” He chastised, moving you both to the other side of car, getting both sides of the window. “Now you can see. That’s good. That’s good.” He told you, walking you over to the passenger side again.

“Get in your car, c’mon. Hurry up.”

“Stop!”

“Get in. And shut your mouth.” He told you, shoving you into the seat once again. “Shut your mouth.” He told you, before rounding the other side of the car, “filthy. Filthy.” He shook his head to himself.

“Alright where’s the thing in the car… how do you put it in gear?” He asked you, shoving multiple buttons.

“Right here.” You murmured, grabbing the shift. He fumbled with it.

“What is this? Is this… a shifter car? I cannot drive a shifter car, alright? So we got a little situation here. I cannot drive these kinda cars.”

You looked down, not sure of how to reply. But you couldn’t help the small smile forming on your face, finding it rather humorous.

“What? You think that’s funny? Would you like to know why I can’t drive this kind of car? I’ll tell you why. I’m used to luxury cars. Do you know what a luxury car is? Do you even know what luxury means? I drive a goddamn Ferrari. The new one, too. A Ferrari 275 GTS. That’s what I drive. I drive cars that shift themselves, my cars shift themselves. They’re luxury cars, they shift themselves.” He rambled, talking to you as if you were a child.

“So when I say three, you follow my count, you come around to my door, got me?” He told you, turning to face you.

You stared at him, pout visible on your face. He held his fingers up, his gaze never leaving yours.

“One… two… three.” He said slowly, you still staring at him, not making any move. He groaned in annoyance, grabbing your jaw, pulling you closer to him, his breath fanning over your face.

“What did I just say? How hard is it to follow goddamn directions?” He asked you, your lips parting slightly. He huffed, letting go of your jaw, and pointing to the door behind you.

“One, two, three, get out of the car. Get out the car.” He pointed to the door, you finally moving and opening the door, him doing the same.

“And I’m watching you. I’m watching you.” The both of you passed each other, him pointing at you. “And don’t make that face. Don’t make that face.” He rounded to the passenger seat before you made it to the drivers, him shouting one last “hurry up!”

You opened your drivers door, sitting in the seat. “Now pull away.”

You began to do so, “and go this way.” You didn’t go that way.

“This way!” He repeated, you finally listening, starting your car and beginning to drive where he told you.

“Fucking finally.” He murmured under his breath, you glancing at him as he leaned back in his seat.

#kidnapper!rafe #dark rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #obx rafe cameron #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x reader

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ijustmissyouraccenths · 1 year ago

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I Want To Kill Her (Part 2)

Au where Y/N and Harry are neighbors who find out their spouses are cheating with each other.

Based off Fortnight by Taylor Swift

Part 1

CW: Smut, cursing, unprotected sex, emotional abuse.

Word Count: 10,085

The months following the gut-wrenching discovery of Teddy's affair were a chaotic storm of emotions and turmoil. The idea of my spouse, the person I trusted most in this world, being unfaithful was unbearable. But without any concrete evidence, doubt enveloped me like a thick fog, suffocating me as I struggled to regain my footing. Though I desperately wanted to believe he wasn't cheating, the blatant signs and whispers from those around us made it impossible to deny the painful truth.

Rage and heartbreak battle within me as I struggle to forgive Teddy, to find a way to salvage our relationship. But each attempt is met with the painful memories of his infidelity, burning like acid through my veins. I'm terrified of losing my British citizenship, my sense of identity and belonging, if I leave him. And even worse, I dread the thought of calling my family and confessing the truth - that not only did Teddy betray me with another woman, but in some sick twisted way, I am also to blame. My family adored him like a son, and he gave me a life beyond my wildest dreams. How could I ever reconcile these conflicting emotions?

Harry's sudden decision to divorce Rosie sent shockwaves through the once peaceful fortress of their home. In just a week, he had packed his bags and walked away, leaving behind a cold and empty shell that was now up for sale. As new potential buyers roamed the halls, I couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal from Harry's abrupt departure. The last time I saw him was in a dingy motel room, where we spent a desperate night together before he vanished without a trace. His disappearance was calculated and cruel, fueled by his seemingly endless wealth and power. Meanwhile, I was left with nothing but uncertainty and the option to return home to Florida. But Harry's resentment only grew as I hesitated to make a final decision. He wanted me to walk away with no regrets, but real life is messy and complicated - far from the neat and tidy ending he desired.

I was trapped in a prison of a house, held captive by a man who claimed to love me but had truly only created a tangled web of chaos and pain. We forced ourselves into therapy every week, desperate to salvage something from the wreckage he had caused. But even after all the sessions, I still felt like I was drowning in the suffocating grip of his selfishness. It was never enough, and I could feel my sanity slipping away with each passing day.

Evenings rolled into nights and days blurred into months. Each moment seemed agonizingly long as I begged time to fly quicker, to wash away the stale taste of betrayal and deception from my existence. The house that once echoed with laughter and love now felt eerily silent, its walls whispering Teddy's betrayal during the quietest hours. My heart ached in ways I never knew possible, each pulse a reminder of the pain he had caused.

In a bid for relief, I threw myself into cooking elaborate meals, organising closets, watering the drooping plants Teddy had once loved. Yet every activity was tainted with the memory of him - his laughter rings in my mind as I repeat chores we used to do together. It was a desperate plight to keep myself sane amidst the storm that threatened to break me down.

Teddy's unfaithfulness took its toll on my spirit, but Harry's abandonment shattered me entirely. I played over our last night together again and again in my mind. There was something feral about that night; lust mixed with desperation and an underlying tone of finality. He left without any explanation, disappearing like a ghost only leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and a raw wound that refused to heal.

The cracks were beginning to show. Laughter seemed forced, smiles rarely reached my eyes. The weekly therapy sessions felt more like an interrogation than relief, talks of my own explicit night replaying session after session. Hours spent scrutinizing every detail of our dysfunctional relationship only amplified my misery. Every shared secret, every stolen glance, every whispered promise – all now seemed meaningless and distorted under the harsh scrutiny of reality.

In the end, it was not Teddy who broke me; it was me who had allowed myself to be broken by him. My judgment clouded by love hindered me from seeing the man he truly was – a master manipulator cloaked in charm and charisma. The truth was painful to accept but liberating in its own cruel way. I was no longer in denial. I was no longer the woman who would bend over backwards to accommodate the whims of unfaithful men. I was stronger than my heartbreak, stronger than their deceit. And most importantly, I learned the toughest lesson of my life – not all love is meant to be cherished; sometimes, it's better left discarded.

As I sat in the therapist's office, the stark white walls closing in around me, my voice cracked as I attempted to verbalize the turmoil within me. "I just don't understand how it got to this point," I admitted, tears threatening to spill over.

Dr. Richards leaned forward, her gentle gaze meeting mine with empathy. "It sounds like you've been through a lot of pain and betrayal," she said softly. "But remember, healing begins with acknowledging the truth."

I nodded, wiping away a stray tear that escaped down my cheek. "I know, but it's so hard to let go of everything that was once so real to me."

Dr. Richards offered a kind smile. "It's okay to feel that way. It's all a part of the process." She paused before continuing, "Have you considered what you need to do to move forward from this?"

I took a deep breath, the weight of the question settling heavily on my shoulders. "I... I think I need to start by forgiving myself for allowing this to happen. For not seeing the signs sooner."

The words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken pain and regret. Dr. Richards reached out and placed a comforting hand on mine. "Forgiveness is a powerful tool, both for yourself and for others," she said gently.

I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "But how do I forgive someone who shattered me into a million pieces?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Dr. Richards' voice was steady and reassuring as she replied, "Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting or excusing their actions. It means releasing the hold they have over your heart and mind."

As I sat there, grappling with the weight of forgiveness, a million thoughts raced through my mind. Dr. Richards' words lingered like a balm on my wounded soul, but the path to healing still seemed daunting.

"I understand that forgiveness is crucial, but how do I even begin to untangle the mess he left behind?" I asked, my voice wavering with uncertainty.

Dr. Richards leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. "It's a process, one step at a time," she said gently. "Start by acknowledging your pain and allowing yourself to feel it without judgment."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I nodded, the emotions swirling inside me threatening to spill over. "It's just so hard to let go of the anger and hurt," I confessed.

She nodded in understanding. "Anger is a natural response to betrayal, but holding onto it only prolongs your pain. Remember, forgiveness is not for his benefit, but for yours."

Her words struck a chord deep within me, resonating with a truth I had been avoiding. "I want to move forward, but I don't know where to begin," I admitted, feeling lost in the sea of my own emotions.

Dr. Richards reached for a tissue and handed it to me with a gentle smile. "Start by being gentle with yourself," she advised. "Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself, a release from the burden of carrying someone else's actions."

I took the tissue gratefully, wiping away my tears as her words sank in. "I never thought of it that way," I murmured, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the pain.

She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You are stronger than you realize. Forgiveness is not about condoning what he did; it's about setting yourself free from his grip on your heart."

As I sat there, enveloped in Dr. Richards' compassion and wisdom, a sense of peace washed over me. The road to forgiveness may be long and arduous, but with her guidance and my own resilience, perhaps one day I could truly let go and embrace the healing that awaited me.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of emotion, a rollercoaster of highs and lows. I spent many sleepless nights replaying old memories, wrestling with anger and regret. But with each passing day, the burden on my heart felt lighter. I began journaling my thoughts, pouring out my hurt into ink instead of letting it fester within me. And despite the painful contents, there was a strange sort of relief in seeing my emotions spelled out on paper.

"Writing can be therapeutic," Dr. Richards had suggested during one of our sessions. "It provides a safe space to confront your feelings, as raw and as tumultuous as they may be."

Within the quiet sanctuary of my mind and the solitude of my room, I started to delve deeper into myself; into the wounds that had been inflicted upon me and the ones I had unknowingly inflicted upon myself. The process was painful but cathartic. For each tear that fell onto the pages of my journal, there was a tiny piece of pain and bitterness being released.

Days turned into weeks, and slowly but surely, I found myself becoming less consumed by his betrayal and more focused on my healing. I started attending group therapy sessions where I met others who bore similar scars – our shared experiences bound us together in a circle of empathy and understanding.

In those group meetings, I realized that pain was universal but so was resilience. Listening to others narrate their journeys of recovery ignited a spark within me. I saw mirrored in their stories my own strength and determination to rise above the ashes.

One day, while looking at myself in the mirror after another group therapy session, something remarkable happened. Staring back at me was a woman who looked familiar but different—a stronger version of myself; a survivor. My reflection no longer showcased the woman betrayed by love but instead revealed a woman who had found strength amidst despair.

“I am not just a victim,” I whispered to my reflection, the words filling the room with a newfound determination. “I am a survivor.”

The following week in Dr. Richard's office, I found myself recalling this moment with a sense of pride. "I am starting to see changes," I admitted, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

She returned my smile, her eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. "Change is a testament to your strength and resilience," she responded. "You're embracing this journey with courage, learning to forgive not just him, but yourself as well."

Her words felt like a beacon of hope guiding me through the foggy path of recovery. While the pain still lingered like an unforgotten ghost, each day it seemed less potent than before. I was indeed learning to forgive—forgive him for his betrayal and forgive myself for my blindness to his deceit.

As our session ended, I left Dr. Richards' office feeling lighter than when I had come in. With every step away from her office and every step towards home, I was journeying farther from the woman who had allowed herself to be broken by betrayal and closer to the woman who had found strength in her own resilience.

Journaling had become my safe haven, a place where I could pour out my deepest thoughts and emotions without fear of judgment. But that sanctuary was shattered when one day, in a rush to make it to therapy on time, I left my journal open on the bed. My heart stopped when I returned to find Teddy holding it, his eyes scanning the pages filled with my most vulnerable moments. In an instant, my privacy was invaded and my trust was broken.

The tense silence in the room shattered as Teddy's furious voice pierced the air, causing my heart to skip a beat. I watched helplessly as he held my journal in a white-knuckled grip, his eyes scanning the pages with growing anger. "What the actual fuck is this?" he bellowed, his face contorted with rage.

I stood frozen, my mind racing to find the right words to diffuse the escalating situation. "Teddy, please put that down," I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper, but he ignored me, his expression dark and menacing.

With a sharp intake of breath, I lunged forward to grab the journal from his hands, but he deftly sidestepped me. The tension crackled between us like electricity, each heartbeat echoing in the turbulent silence that enveloped the room.

"You've been writing about our sessions? and Harry?" Teddy's voice was laced with accusation, his gaze burning into mine with searing intensity.

I felt a surge of defiance rising within me as I squared my shoulders. "It's none of your business," I shot back, my tone sharper than intended, but I refused to back down in the face of his intrusion.

His jaw clenched as he took a step closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over me. "None of my business? You've been documenting our private moments, our struggles! How you also fucked the neighbor?" His voice rose with each word, reverberating off the walls like thunder in a storm “As if that little fucking photo he sent while fucking you, my wife, wasn’t bad enough”.

I could feel my own anger building, fueled by his violation of my privacy. "You have no right to invade my thoughts like this and last I checked, you were the one who started cheating," I retorted, the words dripping with resentment and hurt.

The atmosphere crackled with tension as we stood locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to yield ground. The air grew thick with unspoken accusations and grievances left festering beneath the surface.

"You think you can just hide behind your journal and play the victim?" Teddy's voice was laced with contempt, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

My fists clenched at my sides as a surge of defiance coursed through me. "I am not playing anything! This is my way of coping with everything you've put me through, let’s remember who started this mess," I shot back, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside me.

His laugh was harsh and bitter, cutting through the charged atmosphere like a blade. "Coping? Is that what you call it? Writing about how I've destroyed you? This is pretty much a sex book." His words were like daggers aimed straight at my heart.

The room seemed to shrink around us as we faced off in this battle of words and wills. Every breath felt heavy with unspoken truths and buried emotions that threatened to erupt like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

"I trusted you," I whispered hoarsely, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes as the weight of his betrayal bore down on me like a crushing weight.

Teddy's expression softened for a fleeting moment before hardening once more. "Trusted me? Look where that got you," he sneered, a cruel twist to his lips betraying the depths of his callousness.

The walls seemed to close in around us as the fight escalated into a tumultuous storm of emotions and accusations. Each word exchanged felt like a blow to an already fractured foundation that threatened to crumble under the weight of our shared pain.

The rumble of thunder outside echoed the turmoil inside as our voices rose in a crescendo of anger and hurt. The room pulsed with an energy so charged it felt as though lightning might strike at any moment, igniting a fire that would consume us both.

"I'm tired of being your punching bag," I declared, my voice firm with newfound resolve.

Teddy's face contorted with fury. "You think you're innocent in all this?" he shot back, his words like venom dripping from his lips.

The air crackled with electricity as we faced off in a battle neither willing to concede. It was a clash of egos and emotions, each word exchanged fueling the fire burning between us.

"I won't be silenced by your guilt-tripping," I retorted, my voice cutting through the charged atmosphere with precision.

Teddy's eyes blazed with rage as he took a step closer, his breath hot against my skin. "Guilt-tripping? You've been playing the victim since day one," he accused, his voice dripping with contempt.

The room seemed on the verge of imploding as our tempers flared and our voices clashed in a symphony of discord. It was a battle of wills and wounded pride, each unwilling to yield ground in this war of words.

"You'll never own up to your mistakes," I accused, my voice tinged with frustration and anger.

Teddy's fists clenched at his sides as he glared at me with unbridled fury. "Mistakes? You're the one who shattered everything we had, we could’ve come back from this. You didn’t have to fuck the first guy you saw!" he roared, his words echoing off the walls like thunder on a stormy night.

The fight raged on like an unrelenting tempest, each word exchanged adding fuel to the fire burning between us. The air crackled with tension as we stood face to face in a battle that threatened to consume us both.

“You know what? I’m done,” I seethed, my voice rising to a fever pitch. "I'll find a place to stay and it sure as hell won't be here!" My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I glared daggers at the person in front of me. The fury coursing through my body threatened to consume me, but I welcomed it, fueled by sheer determination to escape this toxic environment.

I took a deep breath and tried to steady my shaking hands as I dialed Bella's number, she was the first close friend I had made in London. The phone rang for what felt like hours before she finally picked up.

"Hey, Bella. It's me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside of me.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"I need a place to stay for a while. Can I crash with you?" I blurted out, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Bella didn't hesitate. "Of course! What happened?"

"It's a long story," I replied, tears threatening to spill from my eyes again.

"Don't worry about it. Just come over whenever you're ready," she said reassuringly.

I thanked her and hung up the phone before splashing some cold water on my face in an attempt to compose myself. Taking one last look at myself in the mirror, I unlocked the bathroom door and made my way back to the living room.

Teddy was nowhere in sight, probably still seething from our argument. I quickly grabbed my backpack and stuffed some clothes and toiletries inside before heading out the door.

The fresh air outside helped clear my mind as I made my way towards Bella's house. As much as I wanted to stay strong and not let Teddy get to me, his words still stung like open wounds.

I couldn't believe how things had escalated so quickly between us. We used to be inseparable, but now it seemed like we were nothing but strangers living under the same roof.

My thoughts were interrupted as I arrived at Bella's house. She greeted me with open arms and led me inside as Bella and I settled down on her cozy couch, surrounded by the warmth of her living room, she handed me a mug of hot tea. The familiar scent of chamomile filled the air, soothing my frayed nerves.

"So, spill it. What happened between you and Teddy?" Bella asked gently, her eyes reflecting genuine concern.

I took a sip of the tea, feeling its comforting warmth seep into my bones. "It's just... we had another one of those fights about the cheating. The same patterns repeating over and over again. I don't think we can fix this anymore," I admitted, feeling a heavy weight lift off my chest with each word spoken.

Bella nodded knowingly, her empathy palpable. "Sometimes things reach a point where they can't be salvaged, no matter how much we try. It's okay to walk away if it's for your own well-being," she reassured me, her words like a balm to my wounded spirit.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I gazed at my friend, grateful for her unwavering support. "I just feel lost, you know? Like I don't even recognize myself anymore in all of this chaos," I whispered, the vulnerability raw in my voice.

Bella reached out and squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You're not alone in this. You have people who care about you, who want to see you happy and thriving. And remember, sometimes in letting go, we find the strength to rebuild ourselves," she offered with a gentle smile.

Her words resonated deep within me, a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness that had clouded my heart. I wiped away the tears that had escaped and mustered a small smile in return.

"Thank you, Bella. For everything," I expressed sincerely, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over me for having such a supportive friend by my side.

The early morning light blazed through my window, a stark reminder of the emptiness that awaited me. With a heavy heart, I resolved to find a job, anything to fill the void left by my crumbling marriage. But even as I searched for employment opportunities, my thoughts kept drifting back to Harry. My desperation to know how he was doing gnawed at me like a festering wound, but there was no way to reach out and ask. As I sat in silence, I couldn't help but imagine the different path my life could have taken if I had chosen Harry over Teddy. The image of us together haunted me, a cruel reminder of what could've been. But now it was too late, and there was no turning back from the pain and regret that consumed me.

My fingers danced across the keys of my laptop, typing and retyping cover letters and resumes. The monotony of each hopeful submission echoed the emptiness in my heart, seemingly endless echoes spiraling into a void. To distract myself, I brewed a strong cup of coffee, the familiar smell offering an odd comfort in the chaos that was now my life.

As the day wore on, my efforts bore no fruit. Each potential employer remained a stranger to me, their responses automated and cold. As darkness began to creep into the room, a sense of defeat washed over me and I closed my laptop with a sigh.

I poured myself another cup of coffee, this time opting for the solitude of the balcony to nurse it. The city below shimmered with life just as it always did, indifferent to the turmoil of one seemingly insignificant inhabitant. Despite the layers of concrete and glass that separated us, I felt strangely connected to those anonymous lights - distant beacons in the abyss.

A haunting melody wafted up from somewhere far below, a soulful duet between an old saxophone and an even older piano. The notes danced through the fragmented night air, weaving stories of love lost and found again. Each note was a phantom whispering bittersweet tales into my ear.

Just then, an unexpected sound cut through my thoughts - the shrill ringtone of my phone nudged me back into reality. My heart clenched as I saw Teddy's name flash across the screen. He hadn't called since our fallout; what could he possibly want now? Nervously biting my lip, I answered it. On the other end of the line Teddy’s voice trembled with an emotion I couldn’t quite place; regret perhaps—or was it desperation?

My heart raced as I hung up and blocked Teddy's number. It was a small act of defiance, of reclaiming control over my life. But in that moment, it felt powerful.

I took a deep breath and leaned against the balcony railing, feeling the cold metal press against my cheek. It was a reminder that I was still here, still alive despite the pain and chaos swirling within me.

But even as I tried to convince myself that cutting off all contact with Teddy was for the best, doubts crept into my mind. What if he really did want to talk? What if he wanted to apologize and make things right?

I pushed those thoughts away, refusing to let them cloud my judgement. I couldn't afford to let him back into my life, not when I was finally starting to move on.

With new determination, I went back inside and resumed my job search. As midnight approached and exhaustion began to take hold, I allowed myself a moment of weakness and checked my email one last time.

A spark of hope ignited within me as I read the email from my job recruiter. It informed me that there was a hiring event happening downtown tomorrow and I had been invited to attend. My heart raced with excitement - this could be my chance to finally land a job.

I quickly confirmed my attendance and began mentally preparing for the event. As much as I hated the thought of going out into the world and facing potential rejection, I knew it was something I had to do.

The next morning, after meticulously picking out an outfit and rehearsing what I would say, I set out for downtown. The bustling streets were a chaotic blend of people rushing to work and tourists taking in the sights. As I walked among them, a sense of anonymity washed over me - just another face in the crowd.

Eventually, I reached the building where the hiring event was taking place. After taking a deep breath, I stepped inside and made my way towards the designated area.

The event was packed with job seekers like myself, all eager for a chance at employment. Despite my nerves, I felt emboldened by their determination and pushed forward to talk to employers.

One after another, I introduced myself and handed out resumes with practiced ease. Some showed interest while others dismissed me without a second glance. But instead of feeling defeated by rejection, I soldiered on with renewed purpose.

Hours passed in this manner until finally, just as hope began to wane, someone took notice of me. It was an HR rep from one of the top companies in town, Pleasing.

My heart pounded as I realized this could potentially lead me down the path to seeing Harry again. But I quickly pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the present moment.

The HR rep from Pleasing seemed impressed by my credentials and asked me to come in for an interview the following day. I couldn't believe it - this was exactly the opportunity I had been waiting for.

As I walked out of the hiring event, my mind raced with excitement and nerves. Part of me couldn't help but wonder if Harry still lived in the area, but I quickly shut down that line of thinking. It didn't matter - all that mattered was that I had a chance at a job.

The next day, I arrived at Pleasing's office early, dressed in my best professional attire. The receptionist greeted me with a smile and directed me to the HR department.

I shook myself out of my reverie as the HR rep called me into their office for the interview. Despite my nerves, I answered their questions confidently and highlighted my experience and skills.

As the interview progressed, I could feel the HR rep becoming more and more impressed. The questions became increasingly challenging, but I faced them head-on, demonstrating my knowledge and quick decision-making abilities.

Slowly, the discussion moved on to my potential role in Pleasing and how I saw myself contributing to the company's future. Here, I outlined a comprehensive plan that included innovation, team synergy, and a commitment to meeting corporate objectives. The HR rep listened attentively, occasionally interjecting to clarify or probe deeper into my responses.

The interview concluded on a positive note and I was told that they would get back to me in a week's time. As I left the building, I felt a sense of accomplishment but there was also an underlying excitement - the possibility of crossing paths with Harry and being able to leave Bella’s to find my own flat.

A week passed in a blur of anticipation and anxiety, each day inching closer to the call from Pleasing. When it eventually came through, my heart skipped a beat. They were pleased with my performance during the interview and wanted me on board.

And so began my journey with Pleasing - a journey that was filled with arduous tasks, demanding projects, and incredible opportunities for growth. The work environment was fast-paced but rewarding, pushing me to work harder each day.

One afternoon, a couple of months into my role at Pleasing, I saw him from afar. It was Harry - my former neighbor and one night stand. He looked just as I remembered him: sharp-witted and focused in his tailored suit, there was an air of high authority about him.

My heart raced as I watched him stride through the office, making his way towards the executive level. Memories of our time together flooded back to me - the late nights he spent on top of me, the way he felt, the way he touched me, how he smelt expensive.

Lost in my thoughts, I suddenly realized that I needed to find a way to meet with him. But how? As a junior employee, I didn't have easy access to top executives like him.

Determined not to let this opportunity pass me by, I approached my manager and asked if there was any way I could have a meeting with Mr. Styles. She gave me a skeptical look but promised to see what she could do.

A few days later, she called me into her office with a smile on her face. "I spoke to Mr. Styles' assistant and they have agreed to give you 15 minutes next week," she said excitedly.

My heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Harry again after all this time. But what would I say? What would he think of me now?

The day of the meeting arrived and I nervously made my way up to the executive level. As soon as I stepped into Mr. Styles' office, my nerves disappeared - it felt like no time had passed between us at all.

As I cautiously entered his dark office, my heart pounded in my chest. The scent of tobacco and whiskey filled the air, mingling with the intense aura emanating from Harry's piercing green eyes. I could feel his gaze burning into me as I made my way to a chair by his desk.

"Y/N," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I saw the name and couldn't believe it was you, bloody hell."

A chill ran down my spine at the iciness in his tone. Memories flooded back of our tumultuous past, the love and betrayal that had torn us apart. But now, standing in front of him again, I couldn't deny the powerful pull that still existed between us.

"Harry," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's been a while."

He leaned back in his chair, studying me with an intensity that made my insides churn. "Indeed it has, Y/N," he remarked, his eyes never leaving mine. "I must say, I never expected to see you here."

I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, feeling the weight of unspoken history hanging between us. "I didn't expect to be here either," I admitted, my voice tinged with a hint of regret.

He raised an eyebrow, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face. "And yet fate has a funny way of bringing people back together, doesn't it?"

I nodded, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me - longing, apprehension, and a spark of unresolved desire. "It seems that way," I said softly.

Harry leaned forward slightly, his expression softening imperceptibly. "Tell me, Y/N," he began, his voice quieter now. "What have you been up to since we last crossed paths?"

I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts amidst the whirlwind of emotions his presence evoked. "Well," I started hesitantly, "I've been working here at Pleasing. It's been challenging but rewarding."

A flicker of interest sparked in his eyes. "Impressive." He paused for a moment before continuing, his tone contemplative. "And what made you seek out a meeting with me today?"

I met his gaze squarely, steeling myself against the vulnerability creeping in. "I wanted to reconnect," I confessed quietly. "To clear the air and maybe... find closure."

Harry regarded me thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. "Closure," he echoed softly. "Perhaps that's something we both need. And Teddy?"

My eyes drop to the ground, avoiding his penetrating gaze. "It's a messy situation, but I had to leave. I've been crashing at my friend Bella's place until I can scrape together enough money for a divorce."

His voice drips with insinuation and I feel my skin prickle with unease. "Oh, how convenient," he sneers. "I knew eventually you would come to your senses, although I thought our night together would have been enough to break you free." My stomach churns at his words.

The atmosphere in the room grew heavy with unspoken tension as their words hung in the air like charged lightning bolts ready to strike.

"You had no right to think that one night could define me or my decisions." I spat.

Harry's eyes flashed with a mix of surprise and something darker as my words cut through the tension between us. "And what right did you have to enter my life again after all this time, Y/N?" he countered sharply, his jaw clenched in frustration.

I squared my shoulders, meeting his challenging gaze head-on. "I didn't come here seeking your approval, Harry," I retorted, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "I came for myself, to find closure and move on."

He leaned forward, his expression unreadable as he studied me intently. "Closure," he repeated, the word hanging heavily between us. "Is that truly what you need? Or is there something else driving you here?"

A flicker of vulnerability crossed my features before I could stop it, and I felt exposed under his piercing scrutiny. "Maybe it's both," I admitted quietly, feeling the weight of years of unresolved emotions pressing down on me.

Harry's gaze softened slightly, a hint of understanding creeping into his eyes. "I see," he murmured, a touch of regret coloring his tone. "Perhaps we both have demons to face before we can truly move forward."

I nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in his words. "Maybe so," I agreed, a sense of resignation settling over me. "But facing them together might be easier than doing it alone."

Silence enveloped us for a moment, broken only by the sound of our breathing mingling in the charged atmosphere of the room. Finally, Harry spoke again, his voice softer now. "I never stopped thinking about you, Y/N," he confessed quietly. "Despite everything that happened between us."

My heart clenched at his words, memories flooding back with a force that left me breathless. "I never forgot you either," I whispered, a bittersweet ache settling in my chest.

A myriad of emotions played across Harry's features - longing, regret, and something else I couldn't quite decipher. "Then perhaps we owe it to ourselves to confront the past and see where it leads us, Pleasing has a nice legal plan I can lend to you for a divorce." he suggested tentatively.

I met his gaze, seeing a glimmer of hope reflected in those intense green eyes that had once been my undoing. "Maybe we do," I agreed softly, a sense of anticipation stirring within me.

I stood outside the courtroom, my heart racing with a mix of nerves and anticipation. Today was the day I had been waiting for - the day I could finally end this marriage and start a new chapter in my life. But as I took a deep breath and stepped inside, my eyes were immediately drawn to the sight of Teddy sitting at a table with his lawyer, confidently flipping through some papers.

Next to him sat Rosie, her perfectly styled hair and expensive outfit standing out like a sore thumb among the drab courtroom surroundings. She smiled smugly in my direction as if she knew something I didn't, and suddenly all my confidence wavered.

My lawyer squeezed my hand reassuringly as we walked towards our side of the court, but I couldn't help feeling like an underdog in this battle. How had Teddy managed to go back to Rosie so quickly while still begging for me just a few weeks earlier? And how long had this been going on?

As we began the proceedings, I listened half-heartedly as their lawyer presented their case - painting me as an unfit wife who refused to support her husband's successful career. The lies stung, but I held back from speaking out.

It wasn't until it was my turn to speak that I found my voice. My lawyer had prepared a strong case for me - highlighting all of Teddy's infidelities and emotional abuse throughout our marriage. As I spoke about his controlling behavior and manipulation tactics, Rosie's smug expression faltered.

But when it was time for Teddy to speak, he denied everything with such conviction that even I started doubting myself. His words were smooth and calculated, painting me as an unstable woman who couldn't handle his success.

I felt my anger bubbling up inside me - how dare he twist the truth like this? But before I could say anything, Rosie jumped in with her own version of events. She talked about how supportive Teddy had been during their brief affair, and how I was just a jealous ex who couldn't move on.

As Rosie spoke, her words felt like sharp knives twisting in my chest. The betrayal and deceit were too much to bear, she was the one who was sleeping with my husband. I clenched my fists, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. But then, a familiar voice cut through the tense atmosphere.

"Objection, Your Honor!"

I turned to see my lawyer standing up, his expression firm and determined. "These allegations are baseless and unsubstantiated. My client has provided ample evidence of Mr. Teddy's infidelity and emotional abuse. I request that these false claims be stricken from the record."

The judge nodded solemnly, looking at Teddy and Rosie with a steely gaze. "I will not tolerate false accusations in my courtroom. Stick to the facts."

Teddy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. Rosie, on the other hand, remained composed, a smug smile playing on her lips.

"I have evidence that will prove my client's case, Your Honor," she declared confidently. "I request permission to present it."

The judge nodded again, signaling for Rosie to proceed. She stood up gracefully, producing a stack of papers from her briefcase.

"These documents show that Mr. Teddy was out of town on the dates in question," she began, flipping through the pages with ease. "He could not have been at the locations alleged by Mrs. Y/N."

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Could it be true? Had I been mistaken all along? Her proof was just texts from Teddy to her saying he was out of town. Which proves nothing, if anything it was more incriminating.

But then, just as doubt started to creep in, a sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning.

"Your Honor," I interrupted, my voice trembling but resolute. "I have proof that Mr. Teddy and Ms. Rosie colluded to fabricate alibis and deceive me. They were working together against me all along."

The courtroom fell into stunned silence as I presented the evidence that exposed their treachery. Teddy's face drained of color, while Rosie's mask of composure finally cracked.

"I-I can explain," Teddy stammered, but it was too late.

The judge slammed his gavel down with finality. "Case closed. Divorce granted in favor of Mrs. Y/N. You are to pay her a monthly settlement of alimony."

As I walked out of the courtroom, a weight lifted off my shoulders. It was finally over - the lies, the betrayal, the manipulation. I could start anew with a sense of freedom and clarity.

And as I glanced back one last time at Teddy and Rosie, their faces twisted with defeat, I knew that justice had been served.

Waiting outside of the courtroom was Harry with a grin, he did a sassy wave to Rosie and Teddy.

"Congratulations, Y/N," Harry said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and kissing the top of my forehead. "You did it."

I couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of relief and satisfaction wash over me. "I couldn't have done it without you, Harry. Thank you for everything."

"Always, love," he replied with a gentle smile.

As we walked out of the courthouse hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel grateful for having Harry by my side.

"I'm so glad this is all over," I said with a sigh, leaning into him as we reached his car.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed, unlocking the door and helping me inside before making his way to the driver's seat.

As we drove away from the courthouse, I couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. My marriage may have ended in betrayal and deceit but now I was free to move on and start over.

"So what's next for you?" Harry asked as we drove through the city streets.

“ I think we should celebrate.” I looked at him with a playful smile.

"Celebrate?" Harry raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "And what did you have in mind for this celebration, Mrs. Y/N?"

I grinned mischievously, leaning over to gently tap his knee. "Oh, nothing too wild. Maybe just a quiet dinner for two at a cozy little bistro."

"A quiet dinner, hmm?" Harry's smirk grew wider. "And what about later, when we're no longer 'quiet'? Any ideas for that celebration?"

"Well," I purred, eyeing him up and down playfully. "That all depends on how good of a date you turn out to be."

"I'll have you know," he countered confidently, "that I'm an excellent date."

"Oh really? And what sort of things do excellent dates do to impress their partners?" I challenged him with a teasing glint in my eye.

Harry chuckled softly before leaning closer to me. "I believe the key to impressing you, love," he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine, "lies somewhere between your pasta and your dessert."

"And exactly how do you plan on pulling that off?" I asked skeptically but with undeniable curiosity piqued within me.

"Oh," he smirked wickedly as he brushed a strand of hair away from my face. "I'm sure I can come up with something...tasty."

We arrived at the bistro and Harry led me inside, his hand resting on my lower back. The smell of freshly baked bread and spices filled my nostrils as we were greeted by the friendly hostess. She guided us to a cozy booth in the corner of the restaurant before handing us each a menu.

As we perused through the options, I couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment with Harry. Despite the chaos that had been my life recently, he was there to make me smile and forget about all my worries. I was grateful to be able to be like this with him.

"You know," Harry said, breaking the comfortable silence between us, "I haven't had a proper date night in ages."

I smiled at him. Soon after the waiter came to take our orders and after much deliberation, we settled on sharing a few appetizers and ordering our own entrees. As we waited for our food to arrive, Harry reached across the table to take hold of my hand.

"I'm proud of you," he said sincerely, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "You handled everything with grace and strength."

I felt tears welling up in my eyes at his words. It meant so much to have Harry's support and encouragement through everything I had been going through.

"Thank you," I replied softly, unable to find any other words to express how much his words meant to me.

Our food arrived shortly after and we dug into our dishes with enthusiasm. We laughed and joked as we shared bites of each other's meals, savoring every moment together.

After dinner, Harry insisted on treating me to dessert at a nearby ice cream shop. We walked through the bustling streets hand in hand, enjoying each other's company in the warm summer night.

As we sat on a bench outside the shop, enjoying our ice cream.

My voice trembles as I stare at Harry, regret and guilt weighing heavily on my chest. "I should've left Teddy that night after the motel," I confess, tears welling up in my eyes. "But I was scared. Scared of losing my residency, scared of facing my family's disappointment. I thought I could endure it for a while longer, or that he would be the one to leave first." My words choke in my throat, coming out as a desperate plea for forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," I continue, my voice shaking. "I never meant to hurt you or lead you on. I was just...lost and confused."

Harry's expression softens as he takes in my words. He reaches out to brush away a tear that falls from my eye.

"You don't have to apologize, love," he says gently. "I understand why you stayed with him. But I wish you had told me sooner."

The guilt bubbles up inside of me, threatening to drown me in its heavy weight. How could I have been so blind and selfish? How could I have hurt someone who cared?

"I'll make it right, Harry," I promise him, wiping away the tears from my cheeks.

Harry's eyes light up with hope as he grasps my hand tightly.

"We'll face this together," he says firmly, determination evident in his voice.

And just like that, the burden on my shoulders feels a little bit lighter knowing that I have Harry by my side.

"It's okay," he whispers soothingly, kissing the top of my head. "You did the right thing.”

We finish our ice cream in comfortable silence before heading back to Harry's flat.

"Can I ask you something?" I say, breaking the silence.

"Of course," Harry replies, squeezing my hand reassuringly.

"Why did you never tell me your feelings before?" I ask, feeling a little hesitant.

Harry pauses for a moment before answering. "I didn't want to pressure you or make things awkward between us," he admits. "I wanted you to be happy and if that meant staying with Teddy, then I accepted it. So I left, I couldn’t see you in that situation."

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I realize just how selfless and understanding Harry has always been despite his hardened appearence. He truly cares.

"I'm sorry for being so blind," I say softly.

"It's okay," Harry reassures me. "We all make mistakes."

My heart was pounding as we entered the safety of his flat, my senses heightened by the lingering scent of his cologne. Our fingers traced each other's as he deftly made two cups of steaming tea, every touch sending sparks dancing up my arm.

"Would you like a touch of cream?" Harry asked seductively, a teasing smile playing along his lips. His sultry voice sent trepidating waves through me, igniting an insatiable desire that twisted in my belly.

The sight of him leaning casually against the kitchen counter, bathed in soft light, stirred a primal need within me. I watched as he poured a dash of cream into my cup. The way it swirled and mingled with the dark liquid mirrored our own dance - two intricate beings melding to form something far more tantalizing.

"Thank you," I murmured, accepting the warm mug from his hand. My fingers brushed against his, eliciting a delicate shiver that rippled down my spine. "I couldn't have asked for anyone better..."

As we navigated our way towards the plush sofa, our bodies brushed together, the heat between us flaring like a bonfire on a cold night. The taste of our shared dinner still lingered on our tongues as we sipped on our teas; notes of cocoa and warm spices cascading over our taste buds.

He leaned back onto the couch, pulling me with him until I was nestled comfortably against his side. A silence fell upon us as we enjoyed our drinks; comfortable and yet teeming with an unspoken promise of what was to come.

"There's no rush," Harry purred into my ear, allowing his fingers to trace lazy circles around my wrist. His hot breath fanned out across my heated skin, setting off tremors beneath my flesh. "Let's just enjoy this moment."

His words washed over me like scalding water, igniting a yearning that threatened to consume us both. I finished my tea swiftly, setting the empty cup on the coffee table before turning back to Harry.

"Harry," I breathed out, staring into his deep emerald eyes. They were dark with desire, a mirror of my own want. "I want you...now."

With those words, our evening took on an entirely new flavor - one more intimate and fervently carnal than the most decadent dessert. And as I let go of all inhibitions and allowed myself to drown in Harry's love- the guilt and fear felt like distant memories.

Where there had been tears earlier now blossomed laughter and sighs of pleasure, echoing off the walls of Harry's flat. The heat between us couldn't be contained within mere cups of tea. It was a passionate flame that ignited every sense, searing through every inch of our bodies as we began to explore each other with newfound fervor and desperation.

The room seemed to shrink as my words echoed around us. I could feel myself growing wetter by the second, my heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come. Without another word, he stood up and pulled me close, our bodies pressing tightly against each other.

My hands found their way to his strong shoulders, digging into his skin as he claimed my lips once more. I moaned deeply into the kiss, tasting the tea we just drank on his tongue as he explored every inch of my mouth. His hands traveled down my back, over my ass cheeks, until they reached the hem of my dress.

I gasped as he lifted me off the ground with ease, carrying me towards the bedroom. My legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer still. As we entered the room he kicked the door shut behind us, locking us in together.

As he backed me towards the bed, his cock growing hard, he paused to look down at me. His eyes dark and hungry as he took in the scene laid out before him. "You look so fucking sexy like this," he growled out, his voice rough with desire. I moaned in response, my fingers curling into the sheets beneath us as he lowered me onto the mattress.

His lips trailed hot kisses down my jawline and across my collarbone before moving southward. He nipped at my sensitive flesh while his hands explored every inch of my body, tracing patterns around my tits through the lace fabric of my bra. My breath hitched as his warm mouth hovered over my nipples, making them stand at attention.

"Please," I whispered, arching into him as he teased one of my hardened nubs between his fingers and thumb. His tongue circled around it before finally drawing it into his mouth, sucking on it with such force that I cried out in pleasure.

He pulled away slightly, looking down at me with a smirk that made my stomach do flips. "I'm going to fuck you so good, baby girl." His eyes bore into mine as he slowly undid his pants, revealing his already hard cock straining against his boxers. My mouth watered at the sight of him; all 8 inches of thickness glistening with pre-cum that reflected the light in the room.

I reached up to grab his shirt, pulling him down towards me as I wrapped my legs around his waist again. He groaned into the kiss, deepening it as he lowered himself onto the bed between my spread legs. His teeth grazed against my bottom lip before trailing hot kisses down my neck and chest.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath as he reached behind me to undo the clasp holding together my bra. It fell away from me revealing puckered nipples begging for attention which he eagerly obliged by taking one into his mouth while pinching the other between two fingers causing tiny whimpers to escape from deep within me.

His lips trailed down my stomach, stopping momentarily to press kisses to my belly button before continuing their journey south. I shivered with anticipation as his fingers hooked into the sides of my lace panties, pulling them down and off of me in one swift motion.

He took a moment to admire me, spread out before him, completely exposed and vulnerable. His gaze traveled over every inch of me, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured, before diving back in between my legs. His tongue flicked against my clit sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. I gripped onto the sheets tighter as he continued to tease and lick at my most sensitive spot.

I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, his expert mouth bringing me to the brink. Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, he pulled away with a smirk on his face.

"Not yet," he said huskily, crawling back up towards me. He kissed me hard on the lips while positioning himself between my legs. I felt his tip brush against my entrance and I lifted my hips in response.

The room around us was hazy from the scent of our arousal, and I couldn't help but feel like I was in a dream as he continued to tease me. With every lick and nip, his touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through me. My body arched off the bed in response to his expert ministrations, my breasts pressed against his strong chest.

"You taste so fucking good," he groaned, his voice dark and rough with need. His hands slid up my thighs, teasingly close to my aching desire before moving away again. It was driving me crazy!

"Please," I begged him. "I can't take much more."

He chuckled deep in his throat, the sound sending shivers down my spine. "Oh, you think you can handle me?" He leaned down and flicked his tongue gently over my clitoris again, making me gasp in surprise at the intense sensation. "We'll see about that."

I couldn't believe how turned on I was by his dominance. As he continued to tease me, I imagined what it would be like to fully submit to him—to let him take control of my body and pleasure me however he saw fit. It was terrifying yet exhilarating all at once.

It felt like hours (or maybe just minutes?) before he finally eased himself into me, filling me up with his thick cock. I gasped at the sudden intrusion but moaned in delight as he began to move slowly inside me. Every thrust sent violent shudders through my body as we found our rhythm together—his hard and demanding possessions; mine willingly given submission underneath him amidst silk pillows and warm blankets scattered across the sheets beneath us.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into me, wanting more, needing more. His hands gripped onto my hips, holding me in place as he continued to thrust into me with increasing speed and force.

I could feel the pleasure building inside of me, growing and swelling until it was almost unbearable. My nails dug into his back as I cried out his name, consumed by the intensity of our union.

He leaned down and captured my lips in a fiery kiss that only added fuel to the fire burning between us. Our bodies moved together in perfect synchronization, reaching higher levels of ecstasy with each passing moment.

The bed rocked beneath us as we gave into pure primal desire. He was an unstoppable force, taking everything from me and giving it back tenfold.

"Fuck," he groaned against my lips, his voice thick with need. "You're so tight."

"Oh, God," I moaned, my toes curling against the sheets. "Don't stop."

He didn't listen to me of course; instead, he continued to pound into me relentlessly, driving me towards the edge again and again until I couldn't take it anymore. My orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, consuming every ounce of my being and leaving me shaking in its wake. He followed close behind with a muffled groan as he spilled himself inside of me. He collapsed on top of me, both of us gasping for breath as we came down from our high.

We lay there tangled together for a few moments before he rolled off of me onto his side. He pulled me against him, his arm wrapped tightly around my waist.

"Wow," I finally managed to say.

We lay there panting for several minutes afterward, our heartbeats echoing in our ears above everything else around us.

Finally, he disentangled himself from me and collapsed next to me on the bed, both of us spent and covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Fuck," he breathed out as he ran a hand through his damp hair.

"That was..." I trailed off unable to find the words to describe the intensity of our union.

He let out a bitter, exhausted chuckle laced with satisfaction. "I swore I'd never marry again, but if this is what life could be like on a regular basis, I may have to reconsider," he muttered through gritted teeth. The thought of committing himself again brought a surge of both fear and longing, but for the first time in years, he felt alive.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape, he turned to me with a mix of vulnerability and determination in his eyes. "I never thought I'd find someone who could make me question my own convictions," he said softly, reaching out to gently touch my hand.

I looked back at him, her own eyes filled with understanding and a hint of mischief. "Maybe it's time to rewrite those old promises," I suggested, a smile playing on my lips.

A sense of peace settled over him as he realized that maybe, just maybe, he was ready to take a chance on love once more. With a hopeful heart and a newfound sense of purpose, he whispered, "Maybe it is."

As the last rays of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon, their eyes locked and they both felt an electric current surge through their bodies. It was a sign that their journey together was just starting and would be filled with endless twists and turns, but they were ready for the challenge.

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whimzywherein · 2 months ago

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I’m bored! Hollow knight x In Stars and Time AU!

(Synopsis and Art!)

(Vague spoilers for both games)

Rough story idea:

The Radiance unexpectedly ambushed the White Palace before The Pale King was able to finish the preparations to contain it in the Pure Vessel. Desperate to buy themselves more time, The King’s daughter, Hornet, was ordered to escort The Pure Vessel (and ghost) to safety, while the Pale King and the kingdom’s great knights made their last stand. They were overcome by the Infection, but were able to contain the Radiance in the White Palace, and seal it behind the Dreamers’ seals. Hornet, Ghost, and PV traversed the kingdom of Hallownest, picking up a few companions on the way (Tiso and Quirrel), while also working to obtain the Dream Nail, empower it, and break the Dreamer’s seals so they could confront the Radiance. The final goal being to seal it away permanently within PV’s emotionless shell.

Trouble is… Pure Vessel isn’t fully emotionless. And they’re starting to reconsider whether or not they want to do this anymore. But this is their whole purpose! This is what they and their companions have been striving for the entire time! And it’s what the Pale King raised them to do, what all their other siblings died for. They have no mind to think, no voice to cry suffering! So why are they suddenly starting to feel a lot more uneasy about this…? Why are they suddenly starting to feel… scared?

But when their nerves get the better of them, PV dies before they even make it halfway to the Radiance. But forces beyond their control drag their shade back into their shell, and suddenly they reawaken the day before their death. Determined to change fate, Defeat the Radiance, and never EVER reveal that they’re secretly terrified, PV sets out to save the kingdom and sacrifice themself…. Only for the day to loop back again… and again… and again…

TL;DR: Pure Vessel repeats the day that them and their companions fight the Radiance in the battle to Save Hallownest. Their emotions start getting the better of them, and their party is starting to notice.

Roles aren’t exact in how I want to do this, but here’s the rough idea: (no ships planned or anything, just who I think suits who)

Hornet = Mirabelle, Tiso = Isabeau, Quirrel = Odile, PV = Siffrin, Ghost = Bonnie, Radiance = King, PK = Head Housemaiden, and Grimm = Loop.

ANYWAYS REDRAWS!!!!

(Again if you made it to the end, have a little smooch: Mwah!) (I’m also working on more art/ideas for this rn so I’ll probably post those soon!)

#art #artist #in stars and time #isat #procreate #hollow knight #hollow knight au #in stars and time spoilers #hollow knight spoilers #doodle #doodles #crossover #alternate universe #in stars and time au

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tipsandtrixx · 22 days ago

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Some more little facts about my sasi ghost au because the only thing I love more than creating this au is info-dumping about it:

1. The museum they haunt is connected to a college, the same college that Logan taught at when he was alive and the college Virgil and Remy where attending when they were alive

2. Janus likes to trick employees into entering the main room with the lights off because then the employees can see them, it never ends well.

3. Said trick is how Thomas ends up meeting the ghosts, he recognizes Patton and Emile from their missing persons reports, that being said he does not get paid enough to deal with their shit but gets dragged into it anyways.

4. Apollo is the ghost of a 1950s actor who was killed in a stage accident at the college theater, but unlike the others he's not bound to a object giving him free range to explore. He's incredibly frustrated with his situation and his pre-death life, and is also pretty insane and malicious.

5. Janus went insane not long after he first woke up from death and now he's a distorted shell of his former self, insanity for ghosts tends to force them into embracing the worst parts of their living selves, and now he's a lying trickster who can't be helped. We do not talk about what happened to Janus. Ever.

6. Ghosts have a weird control over people's minds, it's easier to control the living, but a strong or emotional enough ghost can even control and possess another ghost. ;-)

7. What memories a ghost keeps depends greatly on how they died and what happened to their body after they died. Logan and Emile have almost all their memories, Virgil, Janus, Remy, and Apollo have distorted memories and Patton and the twins have almost none of their memories.

I have more but I have a headache so I'm gonna end it here. I do worry some of this is repeating things I said in the first one but I tried to explain everything in more detail. I really like this au so I'm probably gonna start posting some excerpts from it. ＼(^^)／

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makingfanfictionstosleep · 2 months ago

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theirs to share

a/n : jjk characters not mine. contains heavy lemons / mature scenes as the story progresses. reverse harem. femoc x nanami/geto/gojo. jjk alternate au. Wattpad Link : Theirs to Share || Story Masterlist : Jujutsu Kaisen <…previous ... next…>

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

TWENTY.

Next Day…

You woke up with the worst hangover known to mankind. And you have no idea how you ended back in your room or whose shirt you’re wearing.

You threw yourself back into the mattress of your bed, trying so hard to remember what happened last night.

You remember drinking… A lot.

And there was a bowl with folded papers…

Images… Hold on… Memories of you… Suguru… Satoru… Kento….

“Fuck,” you laid in your bed defeated, until you remembered the culprit — Mei Mei. You closed your eyes, trying to recall everything that had happened before the damn alcoholic game.

You remember her voice, teasing and low, when she passed you the bowl with a silken ribbon tied around its rim.

“I expect you all to play properly. Treat each other.” Mei Mei smiled sweetly. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be... delightfully honest.”

Satoru raised a brow. “And you just happened to gift us this little game?”

Mei Mei only winked.

“It responds best when you’re all present. Together. I’ll leave you to it~.”

You remember the way Suguru narrowed his eyes suspiciously, how Nanami’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, and how Satoru just grinned like a cat sensing a trap—and jumping in anyway.

Still, the four of you gathered around the bowl like moths to flame.

And none of you questioned it.

Not when the dares made your heart race.

Not when the touches grew hot, personal, reverent.

Not even when you realized—you couldn’t stop playing.

The unspoken vow had taken hold.

And somewhere far away, Mei Mei probably sipped tea in a private lounge, legs kicked up, whispering to herself with smug delight— “Checkmate.”

You wanted to be mad at Mei Mei, but then again if you’d be truly honest with yourself… there wasn’t anything you didn’t like last night.

And you also promised the boys that you’d be thinking about it.

And Mei Mei gave you a sneak peak of all the possibilities if you agree to the arrangement.

But how would you face them today?

Simple. You try to disappear.

Try.

But the problem is you're not the only one who remembers every moan, every gasp, every tremble.

So much for trying to take things slow.

GETO SUGURU

You thought you were safe in the east wing, hiding between lesson plans and dusty chalkboards. But as you turned the corner into the dimly lit classroom, the door clicked shut behind you.

"Running away?" Suguru’s voice was a velvet threat.

You froze.

He was leaning against the desk, arms folded, one brow arched. That signature smirk was back, dangerous and devastating. "After everything we shared last night? You’re breaking my heart, sweetheart."

You turned to speak, but he was already in front of you—so close, so slow—his fingers brushing your cheek, trailing down your throat.

“You sounded so sweet screaming my name,” he whispered, pressing you back against the desk. “Let’s see if I can get a repeat performance.”

And when his mouth found your neck, your resolve crumbled. You arched into him, gave in, fingers curling in his hair as he took his time unraveling you again—right there between stacks of forgotten textbooks, his hands under your shirt while you press your abdomen against his thick, hard cock under his pants.

GOJO SATORU

You left the classroom on shaky legs, swearing you'd be smarter. Stay in public spaces. Avoid shadows. But Satoru’s never been one for rules.

He found you anyway.

"Peekaboo~" His voice sang out, and before you could duck away, his long arms were around your waist, pulling you into the nearest alcove, hidden behind a pillar near the staff offices.

“Trying to ghost me already?” he whispered into your ear, lips brushing the shell of it. “That’s mean. Especially after how well I made you scream last night.”

Your breath hitched.

“You’re insatiable,” you hissed, trying not to melt into him.

“Mmhmm,” he grinned, eyes sparkling behind his blindfold. “But so are you. You just don’t wanna admit it.”

He pinned you gently against the wall, hips pressed just right, mouth descending to steal a kiss so dizzying your knees nearly buckled. And when you clung to him, gasping as he nibbled your bottom lip, he whispered—

“Still running?”

You didn’t answer.

Because you were kissing him back, your hands trailing his abs under his shirt.

NANAMI KENTO

You told yourself this was strictly business. Yaga asked you to pass off a report. Professional. Simple.

But the moment Nanami opened the door and saw you, something shifted behind his eyes.

You placed the folder on his desk.

He didn’t speak. Just stepped forward, took the door, and clicked it shut.

And locked it.

Your heartbeat stuttered.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said, walking toward you slowly, like a predator scenting blood.

“I wasn’t—”

He reached you in two steps, his hands finding your hips, guiding you back until your thighs hit his desk.

"You weren’t there for breakfast," he murmured, voice low and steady. "I told you, my routine starts with you in it."

“I had errands,” you lied, breathless.

Nanami leaned in close, lips barely grazing your ear. “Liar.”

Then his mouth claimed yours—firm, commanding, hungry. And when you gasped into the kiss, he pulled you flush against him, lifting you onto the desk like you weighed nothing, like he needed to feel you again.

And gods, you needed it too.

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patheticjayce · 1 month ago

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A scene from a wip modern au I've had in the works for awhile and its finally starting to take shape... It's not finalized but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Feedback is welcome, just. Don't be an asshole about it please

(A bit of context: they are at a wedding. There's been a vibe all night. Both of them independently decided to make a move that same night.

Viktor is cross-faded and Jayce is drunk by the time this happens in the story, but they’ve started to come down from it. )

There's a pleasant numbness extending from his shoulders down to his calves, buzzing soft and warm.

like someone is running their fingertips up and down his legs.

He imagines the friction of warm rough fingers on the hairs that cover his thighs, the subtle scratch of fingernails that have been left unclipped for a few days.

There's pressure around his forehead, radiating all the way down to the nape of his neck, right past his too-hot ears.

The world is fuzzy, as though painted in tiny strokes of velvet, a cacophony of drunken laughter coming out from his back molars. There's something stuck in his throat, perhaps it's gas, perhaps it's a chunk of rogue meat that Jayce managed to get past his lips…

Perhaps it's a clog of regret like slimy, wet hair in an old drain, chastising him for thinking of Jayce’s thick fingers invading his mouth,

Jayce's incandescent smile blurring out as he slowly closes his eyes and bends back his head, surrendering completely, allowing Jayce to go deeper…

…Jayce fucking his throat with his fingers, surrendering to his desires, surrendering to the invasion, surrender, surrender, Jayce, JAYCE…

The music suddenly stops playing. Someone is slurring sentimental nonsense, he can hear the drunks agreeing and cheering.

He is slouched back in his chair, his foot still keeping rhythm with the ghost of a song that lingers like the circles around a stone dropped in a pond, wider and softer as it fades out.

His stomach is tight now.

Is he nauseous? he panics for a moment, takes a deep breath.

No one has died from being too high.

He repeats the sentence in his head, at first his own voice speaking to him, slowly morphing into another voice.

A voice that looks like sweet sun tea in the summer.

the weight of an invisible hand on his shoulder feels so real…

A large palm is rubbing comforting circles on his back.

warmth, real warmth.

A purr, a tickle, like a knife dripping with icing slicing through the shell of his ear, a surge of heat from his spine to his head like a carnival hammer game, and

Why did you have to think of hammers??

A heavy swoop as the white-hot ball of lead now formed in his head falls down through the tunnel of his esophagus, burning straight through his entrails, landing with a loud clanging noise against the hollow cavern between his legs.

“...it's ok, darling, I'm going to take care of you, I'm here…”

The soft murmuring of wine-sticky lips making direct contact with his ear snaps him out of his tornado of doom.

Jayce's voice is feathery, sweeping away his anxiety. His arms are draped snugly around Viktor's shoulders, they are so heavy, and so warm...

His perfect face is tucked into the space between Viktor's logic and Viktor's self-resolve, which is feeling more like someone has peeled back the sheath from every nerve in his entire system and less like something he can keep up with at the moment.

Viktor leans back into Jayce, resting his head on the hollow of Jayce’s clavicle, lifting his face to graze the tip of his nose all the way from the base of Jayce’s neck to the crook behind his ear.

He inhales, as deep as he possibly can.

Jayce smells like cologne, like midnight sweat, like his future favorite mistake.

Jayce turns his face into his, eyes closed. His long, dark lashes cast dramatic shadows in the half-light of the patio lights strung between the tables.

They meet in the middle.

Jayce's lips taste like stale, fruity gasoline.

#fic wip #jayvik fic wip #jayvik fic #tw: drug and alcohol use #its not a'lot but still #friends to lovers with heavy stupid pining and flirtatiously doomed #jayvik modern au

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onepointsixkm · 4 months ago

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Across the Stars (and back to you)

Summary: A chance encounter with a mysterious girl leads to love at first sight, and Zhou Guanyu chases that feeling through Neo Monos, learning new things about himself and the world around him through her eyes as he does.

featuring: ZG24 x fem!reader (nicknamed "Nova"); cyberpunk!au

notes: happy chinese grand prix! had to write something for my fave ♡ inspired by cyberpunk 2077 (specifically edgerunners). i really want to stay at your house by rosa walton was on repeat (mv contains edgerunners spoilers!). i love this genre so so so much. i have so many more ideas and would like to keep going with this AU! (i may have a part 2 planned tee hee) also photo manipulation is my worst enemy, putting takemura's cyberware onto zhou was such a pain!!! but it looks good so... worth it. no second person (you pronouns) used.

word count: 7,019

It was the way his heart stopped beating when he saw her that he knew.

The way it skipped wasn't just a cyberware malfunction, wasn't just his blood pump not working. It was love at first sight, and Zhou Guanyu knew it.

"Zhou, what the fuck, man—"

"Are you okay?"

He ignored his friends, Lando Norris and Charles Leclerc, as he pushed himself out of his seat. The lights and the people were both dancing in Atlantis, the biggest club in Neo Monos. It was so hot and so bright and so claustrophobic that Zhou was surprised he even saw her standing on the dancefloor.

He noticed her implants first. Her back was completely covered in wires and carbon fiber, the metallic shell running down her spine. Her backless dress didn't even bother hiding what she was. He could see her neural implant on the back of her skull, attached to her metal spine, and he winced, running his hands over his own implants that covered his neck.

She noticed him as soon as he was a couple meters away from her, her eyes locking with his. He faltered in his step.

"Sorry," he said softly as he approached, his voice barely audible over the music and the crowd. "I just…"

He bit his lip, his words failing him. A smile played on her lips. She reached out a hand — he tried to ignore the way half of her arms were cybernetic, wires and metal joints keeping her together — and moved when he took it to shake. Instead, she pulled him towards her. She pressed their bodies together, swaying to the infectious beat of the club music. He stood, stiff, unable to force himself to move.

They locked eyes. Her eyes were twinkling playfully, a smirk toying with the corners of her lips. She reached for his other hand, pulling him to sway to the music with her. He flushed; he'd never really danced before. He swore that he could hear Lando's laughter echoing over the music, and wondered if Oscar had said something funny, or if Lando was laughing at him.

Zhou couldn't blame him. He probably looked like as stiff as a tree.

She leaned in closely, her lips ghosting over his ear. "Relax," she whispered. He shivered, her voice caressing his brain in a strange, yet soothing way. "Let loose a little. Dance with me."

"I don't know how," he admitted.

Pulling back, her amused smile only grew. "Put your hands here," she dragged his hands to rest on her hips. His brain nearly short circuited. "And just… feel. Let yourself go."

His fingers twitched, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. "Let go… yeah." He slowly started to move along to the almost tribal beat of the music, briefly wondering if he looked as insane as he felt. When she started to move with him, his shoulders relaxed. He stared at her, watching as she closed her eyes and let herself sway rhythmically.

His heart started pumping faster in his chest. He made a mental note to have Oscar look at his blood pump later. His fingers tingled against her skin, and he took another breath, hating how it shook when he exhaled.

She opened her eyes. "You nervous?"

"No," he quickly shot back. "Just not used to this."

Lifting a delicate eyebrow, she reached up and let her hands rest on the front of his jacket. "So, you don't dance with strangers at random clubs on a Thursday night?"

"Not usually."

"I'm honored." The song ended, and she stepped back as the beat renewed, another roar of life surging through the dancefloor. His hands fell from her hips, and already found himself aching for her touch. He swallowed dryly. "Buy me a drink?"

He mindlessly followed her to the crowded bar, barely noticing when the bartender wandered over. "Whatever she orders," he said. The bartender looked at his company, eyes flickering in surprise. Zhou frowned at the mild disgust that crossed the bartender's face when he laid eyes on the girl's chrome.

"You guys do special drinks?" The bartender nodded, although he looked reluctant. A flash of anger ran through Zhou's veins. "A shot of vodka in mango juice, soda water, and a chili garnish on top." The bartender nodded and set to work, although he threw an unsure look at Zhou before he did.

Zhou leaned against the bar, staring down at the girl. "Chili garnish?" he repeated, eyebrow raised at the strange choice.

She shrugged. "If it's good, it's good." She paused. "I'm Nova, by the way," she told him. "I saw you looking at me from that fancy booth of yours. What's a VIP like you doing down here in the dredges of this shithole?"

Shithole?

Atlantis was owned by Max Verstappen, a successful corpo who'd left the life a few years back after an impressive run of deals that left him filthy rich. As one of the most exclusive clubs in the world, Atlantis was known for being the epitome of the glitz and the glamour that Neo Monos had to offer. It was easily the most successful club in the city, not to mention one of the nicest. Max made damn sure of that before opening it.

"Shithole's a strong word." She rolled her eyes, although she was clearly still smiling. Zhou smirked, amused by her disregard. "You caught my eye. Not many girls walk around chromed up like that."

The bartender passed them their drinks. "Well, that's boring." Nova shrugged and took a long sip. "Chrome can be sexy." She paused, studying him. "You don't sound European."

"I'm not. Chinese." He followed her lead, making a face at the chili hitting his lips. He couldn't say it wasn't unpleasant. He hummed; it was smoother than he thought it'd be going down. "That's actually good."

"Actually?" She laughed, shaking her head. "I have good taste, what can I say?" She took another sip. "Chinese, huh? Must be a big corpo name if you're hanging out in the VIP booth."

He hesitated. He wouldn't normally say he was a big deal, but he assumed that his status as head technical strategist at AloTech — a rising star in automotive development — would be considered impressive.

He pursed his lips; he hated upselling himself. He just shrugged. "I get by." She looked at him expectantly. "I'm at AloTech. Used to be at Sauber Electronics, but when they changed hands, I left." He shrugged.

"AloTech, huh? That's pretty cool. You must be smart for that. I've heard Alonso only brings on the brightest minds of the generation."

He flushed. Hating how he could feel his skin heating up. "I mean, um…" He quickly brought his glass to his lips and chugged, feeling the sweet and spicy drink bite at his taste buds.

She nudged him playfully. "Don't be coy. If you're a VIP in this place, you've got to be somebody." He grinned bashfully. She leaned in, probably to tease him even more, but paused as something caught her eye, her movements slowing. Zhou turned to follow her gaze, but she quickly reached up, cupping his cheek in her hand and pushing him to face her. "Don't move. Trust me."

His brow furrowed, but realization pricked his skin. "You're not here for pleasure," he guessed.

"Fuck no. Not my scene." She let her hand fall, grazing over his cyberware, and turned her gaze back on him. Gone was her playful smile, and in its place was a determined hardness. "Listen—"

"—Zhou—"

"—Zhou. Okay well, listen, Zhou. I need you to get me into the security room in the back. Think you can help me out with that?"

"I… I can't do that."

She sighed. "I wasn't really asking." She lifted her hand, the one she'd touched him with, and he saw the sparks dancing over her palm. "Sorry. You're cute, and any other night, I'd follow where this is going." Her lips were pulled in a sad half smile, and Zhou's heart fell.

He took a step back, his hand flying to his neck. "What the fuck—" His outburst was interrupted by pain blossoming in his implants, shooting up and down his entire cyberware system.

His optics malfunctioned, sending shockwaves through his brain, and he cursed. He'd just upgraded, too. He could feel his OS rebooting, his entire system sparking. His knees buckled, and he felt his body hitting the dancefloor.

Nova squatted in front of him. "It's not lethal. I just need you to cause a scene." She paused. He could feel her fingers grazing his hair. "I'm sorry."

When his optics came back into focus, he was sitting outside the club, the worried faces of Lando, Charles, and Max in front of him. He blinked, looking to his side and seeing another of his close friends, Oscar Piastri, sitting next to him.

Of course they'd called Oscar, a talented cyberware doc, to help him. Oscar grinned as he noticed Zhou's eyes on him. "You're back with us?" he asked, patting Zhou's shoulder. "Gave us all a scare there, mate."

"What happened?"

"You collapsed." Oscar's smile turned serious. "Your entire system was hacked. Force reboots, minor malfunctions, the works. You're lucky it wasn't a complete collapse. Whoever hit you was good."

Ah, right. Nova.

Zhou pushed himself up, shaking his head to hopefully get rid of the ringing. "Why are we outside?"

"You hitting the ground caused mass panic." Max crossed his arms. "Our security feeds all cut out, alarms started going off, and everything went to shit."

"It was a cyber attack," Charles added. "A big one, too. The whole club is down. We don't know what they wanted, what they got, or who they were."

Zhou's eyes darted to each of his friends. Max was furious, clearly, and Charles would probably side with Max. Lando and Oscar were relieved that Zhou was okay, but definitely wouldn't let it go. Cyberware attacks were incredibly dangerous, and to have a hacker who could — and would — attack someone with the most up-to-date implants running around in the city was dangerous.

"You don't remember anything?" Charles asked, his voice deceptively level.

Zhou looked up at his friend. Max ran the night scene, but Charles ran Neo Monos. If he went looking for Nova, she'd be executed by dawn.

"No, sorry," he replied. "Not a thing."

Oscar had insisted Zhou come to his for a checkup the following day. Zhou had been hesitant, knowing that Oscar was good enough to find traces of whoever had done this.

"Looks like you're all good. No traces of leftover hacks in your system." Oscar sat in front of him as he pushed himself to sit up in the operating chair. "Zhou. You know who did this to you."

Zhou had always been bad at lying to Oscar. They'd been friends for years. "I do," he admitted with a sigh.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"They would've killed her if they found her, Oscar." Zhou ran a hand through his hair. "There was just… something about her. She was chromed to hell, man. Never seen anything like it."

Oscar's brow furrowed. "What d'you mean, chromed to hell?" he asked tentatively.

All Zhou could do was make gestures with his hands, unable to find the words to describe her. "It was like she was more machine than person," was what he settled on. "Her back was… it was gone. All of it was just wires and metal and carbon fiber."

Raising one eyebrow, Oscar leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. "She, huh?" he mused, a mixture of teasing and disappointment in his voice.

Zhou hesitated for a moment, glancing up at his friend for a brief moment. "I…" He trailed off, mouth moving, but no words leaving him. He hung his head when he heard Oscar sigh. "Mate, I know it sounds crazy, but—"

"No, I know exactly what happened. You thought she was pretty before she hacked your system. Zhou, she took advantage of you. She could've done real damage to you, and you're protecting her?"

"It's not like that!" he protested, although when Oscar laid it all out, it sounded absolutely ridiculous. "I don't know, it just… I saw her, and that was it. I needed to… to get close. To know."

Oscar sighed. "Well, that sure isn't any hack I've ever heard of." He blinked, looking at Zhou. His face softened as he watched Zhou hang his head, running his hands furiously through his hair. "Mate…"

Zhou looked up, looking exhausted from the whirlwind he'd just been through. "What do I do? If Max doesn't kill her, Charles will. I… I don't think she's a danger, not really. I want to find her, but I…" He reached up, gripping the front of his shirt in his fist, right above where his heart was.

"I'm gonna choose to trust you on this," Oscar murmured. He hesitated, eyes glowing for a brief moment as he connected to Zhou's system. "You should contact Lewis Hamilton. He knows everyone who's anyone in this city. Maybe he can help you find the girl you're looking for."

An almost smile formed on Zhou's lips. He slid from Oscar's operating chair, clasping his friend's shoulder. Oscar patted his hand, then turned back around, focusing on the cybernetics on his desk.

"Thank you," he said.

"Don't mention it." Oscar paused, looking up at him with a half grimace. "Seriously, don't mention it. They can't know either of us know."

Zhou nodded in understanding, letting his hand fall from Oscar's shoulder before leaving the office.

Finding Lewis Hamilton was easy. Getting the chance to talk to him was hard. Unlike the rest of the company that Zhou was used to keeping, Lewis wasn't a corpo or a politician. Rather, he was a former merc, famous for being one of the only survivors of a suicide mission that saw the fall of Deckard Inc. nearly a decade ago. According to what information Zhou could find, Lewis had lost everything, and had ultimately retired from the mercenary life, choosing instead to run the Neo Monos underground from behind the scenes rather than as one of its formative members.

Zhou had met a lot of people in his life, some more intimidating than others. Hell, at AloTech, he worked for one of the most terrifying men in the whole world. But Lewis was a whole other brand of intimidating.

The older man, dressed in a red, velvet suit, sat on the couch across from Zhou in his Neo Monos penthouse. He held a glass of wine in one hand, while Zhou sipped nervously at his own. "So," Lewis began, his eyes flashing. "What's a corpo like you want with a washed-up merc like me?"

Zhou had weighed his options before coming here. Of course he had. He had to be able to assess risk before making moves, but sitting in front of Lewis was different than he'd figured.

"Word is you know who's who in Neo Monos." Lewis quirked an eyebrow. "I'd like your help finding someone."

For a moment, Lewis was silent. He studied Zhou closely. Zhou squeezed his wine glass, fearing that he would shatter it if he held much tighter. Lewis hummed, picking up the tablet beside him.

"Guanyu Zhou. Born in Shanghai. Impressive record for someone so young. Four years at AloTech — you must be special to last even a year under that guy. Before that, you were at Sauber Electronics, and before that, the Schumacher Institute. That's where you met Michael's son, is it? Met a bunch of your Neo Monos contacts there. Leclerc, Norris, Piastri… Verstappen." Lewis looked up, his eyes flashing dangerously. Zhou could feel a chill shoot up his spine. "If you know Max Verstappen, then why are you coming to me?"

His throat was dry. Lewis Hamilton was much more dangerous than Zhou had realized. The way he said Max's name was all Zhou needed to understand why Oscar had asked to be left out of it.

He took a deep breath, forcing his heartrate to slow. He studied Lewis; the older man's body language wasn't threatening. It was defensive. He knew that he wouldn't get answers from Lewis by being dishonest or hiding anything. In just the few minutes he'd been in the room, Zhou understood that Lewis wouldn't help him if he didn't at least give him something to work with.

"Last night, there was a cyber attack on Atlantis," he began softly. Lewis nodded. He'd clearly heard about the event. "Someone hacked my system and shut it down, then used the commotion to attack the club. No one was hurt, and Max can't figure out what was they were after. And he doesn't know who did it."

"You want to find who attacked you, but you don't want to involve your friend whose business was attacked?"

Zhou hesitated. He wasn't sure how to properly explain his reasoning, but he bit his lip. Lewis was staring at him, a little sparkle of understanding deep in his eyes. Zhou felt himself latching onto it.

"Have you ever felt love at first sight?" he blurted. Lewis blinked in surprise, the first real crack in his armor.

He quickly relaxed, leaning back with an easy smile. "I see. You want to find her before your friends do. See if she's who you hope she is. See if she's someone worth protecting." Zhou took a hasty sip of his wine, feeling the alchohol burn on the way down. "I normally don't help corpos. Especially not people aligned with AloTech. But… I guess today, I'll make an exception."

He stood, dusting his pants off. Zhou watched as Lewis crossed the room, his eyes lighting up to indicate a holocall. He remained completely silent as Lewis spoke to whoever was on the other end of the line, his hands shaking. He quickly swallowed the last bit of wine in his glass, practically tossing the empty cup onto the table. He took a deep breath, the knowledge of what he was doing finally settling in.

If anyone else figured out where he was and what he was after, he could kiss his safety in Neo Monos goodbye.

The thought made him nervous, he wouldn't deny it. He'd been friends with his group for so long that losing them wasn't an option for him. But he had to know. He had to see where things would lead him.

"Alright." He snapped out of his thoughts as Lewis spoke again, turning to face him from where he stood in front of the window. "Got a lead for you. Turns out, there's a VIP in Neo Monos. First time he's been spotted in literal years. Carlos Sainz, a merc from Spain."

"Sainz?"

"Yep." Lewis popped the "p" sound, picking up the tablet. Tapping away, he added, "If you've heard the name, he's one of Norris's buddies from a few years back. They were at McLaren Industrial together before Norris left for AloTech, and McLaren got cannibalized by Porche." He paused, turning the tablet and holding it out to Zhou. "He doesn't show up a lot anymore — mostly sticks to his office in Mansell Corp — but whenever he goes anywhere, there's a cyber attack. He's got a hacker he's rumored to run with."

Zhou carefully took it in his hands, brows furrowing when he read the article.

Carlos Sainz, 29. Currently head technical strategist at Mansell Corp.

Known associates include Lando Norris (AloTech) and Alexander Albon (Mansell Corp).

Has an unknown hacker associate, code name: Nova.

"Nova…" he breathed out, running his finger over the name.

"That's your girl, then?" Zhou wordlessly nodded. "Shit, glad you came to me. Nova's been a ghost for since she came on the scene. There really isn't a lot of information about her, just that she showed up out of nowhere about two years ago. Just that she's Sainz associated. Not even an image of her." Lewis frowned. "Can you describe her for me? I'm guessing I won't get an image out of your optics since she fried 'em while you were together."

"Honestly, the most distinctive part about her is her implants." Lewis looked at him expectantly. "She had implants all over her body. I could see all the exposed wire and shit in her back, and her arms… they looked like they were barely covered in NuSkin. And her neural implant… it was over half of her skull."

Lewis's breath caught, and he shook his head. "Man, that's… that's something else."

"What do you mean?"

"That girl's a project." Zhou's eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to protest, but Lewis held up a hand to stop him. "No, I mean it literally. Before it went under, McLaren Industrial was dipping their toes into cybersecurity. They were trying to do something no one else was doing. Instead of focusing on ICE like most companies were, they wanted to create a group of hackers. They took a bunch of nobodies, kids off the street that no one would miss. They turned 'em all into what you saw. Most died. Couldn't handle that much tech. Nova must be a survivor." Zhou's blood ran cold. He'd heard rumors of such projects existing, but to know that Nova was part of one — was the product of inhumane testing — had his heart dropping right into his stomach.

"That's…"

Lewis scoffed. "Fucking awful? Yeah, you got that right. But that's corpos for you. Shit like that is why I don't work with suits anymore." He sighed, grabbing the bottle of wine and refilling his glass.

When he offered Zhou a refill, Zhou took it without a second thought. He practically downed the entire glass in a single swig. "AloTech… we aren't…" He couldn't even finish his sentence.

"Probably not. At least, not on the books," Lewis agreed. "I don't have any love for Alonso, but he's not a complete piece of shit. He wouldn't experiment on kids, at least." He paused. "Doesn't mean that place is shitting rainbows, though. It's got its own secrets."

Zhou could feel his worldview shattering as Lewis spoke. His whole life, he'd been primed to work in the corporate world, to rise the ranks and eventually, run an entire company for himself. To know that corpos were capable of such brutality shook him to his core.

"I… I need to find her." He staggered to his feet. "If anyone else finds her, they'll…"

"They'll kill her. Yeah." Lewis stood as well, a hard look on his face. "I'll help where I can. But I have to ask: what are you going to do when you find her?"

He didn't say "if" Zhou found her.

Zhou glanced out the window at the city below the penthouse apartment. Neo Monos was beautiful, practically a utopia for corpos. But he'd never seen the world from the perspective of someone who was already at the bottom, who had nothing left to lose. He wondered what Nova had been doing in Atlantis.

What was she searching for?

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I'm not going to let her go back to whatever… shithole she came from."

Lewis almost smiled. He extended his hand to the younger man.

"That's what I like to hear."

Zhou was looking for her in every corner of the city. His eyes kept darting around, sometimes causing him to lose his train of thought.

"Mate, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" Lando finally snapped. "You've been in your own world since Atlantis! I thought you said Osc cleared you — I thought Osc said he cleared you!"

Zhou blinked rapidly. "He-he did." He looked around.

Ah, that's right. I'm visiting Charles's office with Lando as "representitives" of AloTech.

Charles was staring worriedly from where he sat at his desk. He glanced between Lando and Zhou. "Do you want to reschedule?" he asked softly.

"I…" Zhou faltered. He looked at Lando, who shrugged. "Lando can catch me up to speed. I think I'm going to head back to Marine Plaza and get some rest." He stood, offering a stiff, yet apologetic smile to his two friends.

He barely lifted a hand when Charles wished him well, and only nodded when Lando reminded him about dinner with Max and a few others. He thoughtlessly thanked Charles's secretary when she handed him his belongings, his mind racing a thousand kilometers per second as he staggered into the elevator.

His thoughts absorbed him as he emerged into the center of Neo Monos, his eyes wide as he took in the sights. If he had been as lucky in business as Max, or maybe had decided to pursue politics like Charles, he would've been able to settle down in this city. It was only the third time he'd been to Neo Monos, and in that moment, he was really seeing it for the first time.

There were people bustling around, happily chattering to themselves and to each other. It was like they were unbothered by the plight of the world around them. He wondered if any of them knew about the debate over art preservation happening in in Milan, only a four hour drive north, or about the industrial worker uprising in Montpellier, the same amount of travel time to the west. He wondered if they knew what was happening to the sex workers in his hometown of Shanghai, or even about the ongoing corporate scandal in Northern California.

These people were all living in a utopia, one that would be so easily shattered if they bothered walking outside of their bubble. But, then again, maybe that was why Neo Monos existed. To allow people to get away from it all.

And then, there was a familiar voice on the air, shaking him from his thoughts and violently yanking him back to reality.

"Thank you very much. Have a good one." His eyes immediately locked onto the source. He saw her — Nova — walking away from a food stall, probably a pop up by one of the local places, a pastry clutched in her delicate hands.

His feet carried him forwards before he could even think. He kept his eyes trained on her back as she made her way back into the crowds. Even with her cybernetics almost completely covered, he could never forget that voice.

His heart almost stopped when she made to turn the side of a corner building, and he pushed himself to move just a bit faster. He caught her arm as she began to round the corner. She spun, eyes wide, almost dropping her pastry. He reached out and caught it before it could hit the ground, still not letting go of her arm.

"Nova," he breathed.

Her eyes went even wider, and she took a step back. She tried to yank her arm from his grip. He only tightened his hold.

"Let go," she warned, her voice low. "I'm not afraid to do it again."

"Wait." He held up her pastry. She looked at him warily, and he sighed, letting his hand slide down her arm until he was cupping her hand in his. He turned her hand so the back of her hand rested in his, and he put the pastry right in her palm. "I'm not here to hurt you. I-I'm sorry I scared you. I just… wanted to talk."

She watched him for a moment, searching his eyes for any sense of dishonesty. When she couldn't find any, she sighed, relaxing. "Just talk?" she asked, still staring at him like he'd change his tune.

"Just talk."

Nova bit her lip and looked around. She seemed to sag in relief. "C'mon. Let's go somewhere else." He nodded, feeling his fingertips tingle as he allowed her to take him by the hand and lead him through the city center to the waterfront.

She stood at the edge of the harbor, looking out at the ships as they came and went. Zhou only watched her, taking a seat on the bench just behind her.

"I really am sorry about what happened a few days ago." She paused, biting her lip. She dropped his hand, and his fingers twitched, already missing her touch. "I mean. What I did."

Zhou shook his head. "I can't really say I understand. But I'm not hurt. There was no permanent damage. I'm okay. It's okay." He stopped himself from word vomitting any more than he already was, instead watching for her reaction.

She fidgeted under his gaze. "It must've hurt, though."

He shrugged. "If it did, I don't remember it." He reached out, wanting to put his hand on her arm reassuringly, but he paused. She was so small, curled into herself. His fingers curled, and he pulled his hand back, instead gripping his knee.

Taking a large bite of her pastry, she chewed slowly, making a face when she swallowed. "This place is so expensive, and somehow, the food tastes like shit." She sighed, sitting next to him. In silence, she took another bite, this one so much smaller.

For a second, Zhou watched her. "Why are you here?" The question slipped from his lips before he could stop it.

Her fingers tightened around the pastry, crushing it in her grip. "Because… because I have to be." She pursed her lips. The crushed pastry fell, hitting the ground, as she hung her head in defeat. Zhou could see the NuSkin covering she wore on the back of her head to hide her neural implant, and he frowned. His heart ached.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

She laughed humorlessly. "For what?"

"I… I did some digging. Asked for help finding you." She looked surprised, but that surprise quickly morphed into something akin to horror. "I'm sorry, I—"

"You know about me, then?" she asked. His stomach turned at the hardness in her voice. "About…" She gestured to her body — her implants.

"Yeah." He took a deep breath. Suddenly, the ships entering the harbor seemed much more interesting. "Yeah."

There was a long, tense moment of silence between the two. Zhou could feel his stomach aching, acid bubbling in his throat. He wanted to vomit out another apology or some sort of comfort, but he couldn't find the words. He cursed himself internally.

She stood sharply, purposefully stepping on the remnants of the overpriced pastry. She dug her heel into the pavement as she turned, leaning down to bring their faces close. He almost jumped out of his skin, eyes wide at their proximity.

"Well, you found me, so it's my turn. Let me show you something." She reached down, grabbing his hand. "C'mon." He couldn't say a word as she pulled him off the bench. His feet mindlessly followed her, his eyes trained on her back as she pulled him through the city. He didn't even pay attention to where he was going as she turned corner after corner, dodging people and cars, until they reached a hidden stairway that led to a doorway.

She pulled him inside, shutting the door behind them. He gaped at the little one room apartment. It was maybe the size of his closet, with only a tiny window letting in light. The room was practically covered in monitors, their light illuminating the mattress in the middle of the floor.

"Is this…?"

"Mine? For now, yeah." She knelt down on the mattress, grabbing a cardboard box and rummaging through it. "Sit down, I want to show you this." He obeyed, still transfixed by her living space. The mattress was hard under him. He wondered if she'd ever been comfortable a day in her life. "Stay still. This'll be weird, but I promise it's safe."

He sat as still as he could, so much so that he felt like he would freeze in place. She gently turned his wrist, pulled out his personal link, and jacked it into the port on her wrist. He shivered; it was such a strange experience, linking to someone else. She never took her eyes off him as she plugged her own personal into his wrist, a deep, shuddering breath leaving her body.

Careful to not disturb the wires that linked them, she leaned forward and lifted a dark cloth to his face. He leaned back. "What—"

"Trust me. It helps with immersion." He nodded slowly, ordering his body to relax. She was gentle as she tied the cloth around his eyes, darkening his vision completely. "Okay. Close your eyes."

He did.

There was a buzzing in the back of his mind, a soft itch in his wrist, and then, his thoughts were flooded.

It was so dark.

Zhou had never experienced darkness like it before. He looked around, panic creeping through him.

"Hey."

Nova.

"Relax. It's safe." It was like she appeared from out of nowhere, emerging from the darkness. "I'm showing you why I'm here." She took a deep breath. He couldn't see much, but he could feel her fingers twining with his. "Just follow me."

He obeyed without question. They walked through the darkness, her hand tightly wrapped around his, and he stared at her. He knew it was a dream, something she was sharing with him through their link. He wondered if that was why she wasn't hiding her implants.

He could see her neural link, could see her metal spine, her carbon fiber back, and all of the wires wrapped around her. His chest hurt with a deep pain that he couldn't quite place.

"It doesn't hurt." He blinked. "These implants, I mean." She turned to shoot him a half smile, one filled with an emotion he couldn't identify. Her smile widened at his confusion. "We're linked, Zhou. I can hear your thoughts."

Oh. Does that mean you can see my memories?

"No, but only because I'm not looking." She squeezed his hand. "I'm letting you see what I want you to see, and I'm only trying to hear your thoughts so we can talk."

I see.

"You don't understand at all, huh."

Nope.

She laughed. It was a pretty laugh, clear, like a bell. "C'mon." Like she had only a few minutes before, she pulled him with her. "We're almost free."

His ears perked up at the word. She said it so reverently, so wistfully. He held his breath as the darkness parted, a light at the end of the tunnel growing brighter and brighter as they picked up the pace. They went faster and faster until they were running, breaking away from the dark.

Zhou blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, the darkness was gone.

Instead, they were standing on a beach. He was taken aback by how much he felt. The sand against his skin felt so real. He'd never smelled the ocean before, not like this, but he knew it was just as real. He stared out at the sea, letting the sound of the waves crashing against the shore echo. It was so loud, but it was so soothing, too. The setting sun bathed his skin with its warmth. He couldn't remember feeling anything like it, even if it was the same sun as he felt every day.

"This is where I lived after I got out of that place." He didn't look at Nova, but he squeezed her hand encouragingly. "This is freedom. I can be whoever I want to be here."

"Then why aren't you still there?" he asked, glancing over at her.

She smiled wryly. "Because I don't belong to myself." She took a step closer to him. "I have a friend who helped me get out. But he can't protect me forever. They tried to take me back, and he negotiated for me. We can buy my freedom if I do enough for those people."

His eyes widened. The pieces were falling into place. "That's… that's barbaric," he choked out.

"That's business." She shook her head. "It's okay. One last job, and I can go back to this place. It won't be a dream in just a few days." She smiled, this one filled with genuine hope, and Zhou's heart skipped a beat.

"One last job, huh?" he mused. "It'd better be an easy one."

She was silent for a moment. He hated that her smile fell right off her face, regret and sadness taking its place. "The job… it's to get rid of Max Verstappen," she admitted. He suddenly felt sick. "They want him taken down, and they think the best way to do it is to make him guilty of insider trading and manipulation. To make his deals illegitimate."

It was a smart plan, as much as he hated to admit it. Max was practically untouchable in the grand scheme of things, positioned as one of the most loved business owners in Neo Monos. With allies like Charles and Lando, both wielding power in their own ways, Max was protected from most outside attacks. But if internal data implicating him in a criminal scandal was to emerge, there wouldn't be anything anyone could do to protect him.

"I…" He was at a loss for words as he took a step back, the shock rocketing through his whole body. He didn't even notice as he dropped her hand.

She followed him, stepping forward. "That's why I was at Atlantis. I wasn't there to take anything." She took both of his hands in hers. Their eyes met, and he could see the remorse and desperation shining in her eyes. "I don't want this. You can help Max, tell him whatever you want. Keep this from surfacing. Or, at least, keep his enemies from finding proof."

"Why?"

"That night, you looked at me like I was a person."

"Because you are."

She shook her head. "Not to most people. They look at me, and they see a chrome freak. A cyber addict. Or, worst of all, a tool they can use." She squeezed his hands again, and took another step closer to him. He didn't move, his fingers still limp in her hold. "You're the first person since I got out to not look at me like that at all."

"How could I?" he replied, the words finally coming easily to him. His fingers slowly closed around hers, gripping her hands tightly. "You're… incredible. Most people wouldn't last a second with that much tech. You've got to be seriously strong to not just live, but keep your mind whole."

She almost laughed. "That wasn't your first thought when you saw me, though."

He froze. "No." His admission was slow, but not hesitant at all. "It's because I think you're pretty."

"Even when I'm made of wires?"

"Doesn't make you less of a person." He summoned all his bravery and took another step closer, dropping her hands in favor of wrapping his arms around her. "I wanted to know."

"Know?"

He could feel his breath hitting her lips. "I wanted to know if what I felt was real." He paused, feeling his heart beating out of his skin. "It is." He leaned in, pressing their foreheads together.

She pulled back, gently pressing her palms against his chest. "Wait, Zhou." He paused, worry creasing his forehead. "Sorry, no, not a bad thing, I promise. I just… want it to be real."

He immediately understood. "Jack us out," he murmured.

The world began to flicker. The sunset over the ocean disappeared. The ocean, too. Then the beach. And finally, her.

He closed his eyes.

His senses slowly flickered back to life. He opened his eyes, but he still only saw darkness. He remembered that he still had the blindfold on, and he reached up to take it off.

A pair of hands stopped him, the touch achingly familiar.

"Wait. Just one more minute." Her voice was wavering. He paused, letting her pull his hands down from his face. "Was that… real?"

"Is what real?"

"You fell in love with me that night? And still felt that way, even after I shorted your tech? And even now, knowing that my job was to hurt your friend?"

He could hear her trembling, could feel her shaking. He reached out blindly, running his hands up her arms until he reached her shoulders. They were cold to the touch, the NuSkin unable to mask the carbon fiber and metal that made up most of her body.

"It's real."

The next thing he felt was her lips pressed against his. They were warm, fully hers, without any augments or changes. So were her tears. He held on tighter, reveling in the way her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer. Even though she her body was still wracked as she silently cried, he held her, letting her use him as her rock.

When they parted, she pulled the blindfold off, and as his eyes were adjusting to the light, he grinned widely. "Any chance that beach of yours has room for two?" he asked.

"Maybe," she teased, running her fingers over the cyberware on his neck. "You'll have to stick around to find out."

He took a deep breath in, a pleasant shiver running up and down his spine. He hummed, leaning to press his forehead against her neck. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise." He was worried that his words would be muffled, but, judging by the way her breath hitched, there was nothing to be worried about.

"By the way, my name isn't actually Nova," she admitted. She leaned in and whispered her real name into his ear. The sound of it sent a shiver down his spine. She pulled back with a small smile. "Now you know something no one else does."

Message: Lewis Hamilton Found Nova. You were right about where she's from. Those bastards are still blackmailing her. Making her buy her freedom. You said you've got no love for corpos, right? Any chance you'd be willing to make it so they can't hurt her anymore?

Message: Guanyu Zhou Abso-fucking-lutely. Just let me know what you need. Oh, and congrats on getting the girl.

#one point six words! 🖋️#f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #zhou guanyu x reader #zg24 x reader #zhou guanyu fanfic #zg24 fanfic

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mpsansy · 15 days ago

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So we know Casper died saving his cousin from falling off a cliff. Few questions! 1. Which cousin? Was it one from his mother’s side (I might’ve missed an ask or something that’s why I ask, but it couldn’t have been the twins since they weren’t born yet). 2. We know his body ended up in the ocean. Was it ever found? Did he ever wash up on shore?

Unrelated question, on your timeline it says that it’s a while before the trio makes their way to the manor and meet Casper. Do they know right away that he’s their kin? How did that all go down? Also, it seems as though it was a good few years before the trio turned to ghosts. Was Casper made into a ghost before or after they were?

Sorry if you’ve answered these and I’ve missed them, I was just curious! This AU could 10000% be its own series lmao

Phew, now this is an hefty ask here. One that I’ll take to repeating here just because there’s a bit to go through. So if it gets too long, I deeply apologize. I’m just trying to make things as orderly and organized as possible for this AU.

To start off:

1). Casper saved his cousin we’ll dub Wallace “Wally” (soon to be known as Spooky; the tough ghost). He came from Elizabeth’s side of the family. And as sweet as he may look, he was absolutely the reckless one. Stressing both his parents, the trio, and Casper out.

2). For this one, I initially intended for a sailor to find him just as he crashed into the water. However it seems much more appropriate and accurate to say that a sailor did find him washed up a day later. Calling Simon to retrieve his boy’s mangled body. So we’ll go with the boy being washed up on shore a day later!

And the trio all knew that he was kin. How they knew all regards their soul glowing and pulling them close to the house. Just as it did when they reunited together.

Should also mention that the bodies we see here with the McFaddens is their soul given shape. An unprotected shell that can withstand a lot, but is not absolutely invincible. I think I explained this better in the past, so I’m just paraphrasing what I originally wrote.

I got tired with this last one, so I’ll link you to how they reacted when meeting Casper [here] And Casper was the first to be ghost, so by the time they all met each other they no longer looked like themselves

Man, this was quite a bit, so I hope I answered your questions at this point in time

#answered asks #emsypoo444 #sansy speaking here #casper the friendly ghost #casper’s spectral spectacle #casper mcfadden #the ghostly trio #spooky

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kanene-yaaay · 10 months ago

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Lending a Helping Hand (Tickletober Day 1)

Kanene's Notes: I wrote this on a whim, not gonna lie jhgtfdefghjdfgh. For some reason I suddenly felt compelled to participate of this lovely even so here I am! I am following both @/august-anon tickletober list and @/Jamiedraws mxtxtober list because I wanted to see what would come out of mixing those two together juygtfghjdcfgh I think most of my stories will be about mdzs so it seemed fitting :D Anyways, Day 1 - "Ghost" and "Antecipation".

Warnings: This is an AU. Ticklish!Jingyi and Ler!Wei Wuxian. Around 1.500 words.

[~*~]

The Patriarch Yiling was a devious monster, an empty shell of what had been once considered a man but now was known for atrocities beyond human comprehension. The sects still shivered at his name, parents used his story to make their children behave and other demonic cultivators dreamed of following his path, in archiving and surpassing the amount of power he once had. Every book that talked about The War talked of him.

(But Hanguang Jun didn’t. He cut down every gossiping and always reminded them to have a critical mind when it came about the stories of one being told by another.)

But (almost) everyone could agree, he was a monster, and it was naive, crazy, even to believe you could win against him.

Jingyi was about to discover how crazy it was.

"Senior Wei!" He squirmed and ordered his hands to move, voice already trembling around the corners and getting a squeaky turn. It was all for nothing, just like before his own arms no longer answered him. Hysterical snickers began falling from his lips. "Stohohop! Why me?!"

"Well, you offered!" the ghost smiled and moved his hands towards him and with a scared kind of curiosity he watched as his own hands mirrored his move, wiggling fingers perfectly mirroring the older one in every mischievous twitch, getting closer until it was barely touching his clothes, still. The clear promise of a tickle attack made shivers run like electricity through his nerves. "Aiya, Jingyi! So young and your memory is betraying you already? Don’t you remember how you came to me so excited this morning, saying you wanted to help experimenting with my new ideas?"

Jingyi half groaned and half giggled. In his defense, it was very hard to try to remember something when a single finger decided to poke his ribs and make him dance from a side to another like he was performing the silliest of the dances. "Senior Wei!"

"Almost! Now repeat that but with less I-am-about-to-get-destroyed-by-ghost-tickles feeling. Don’t worry, I’ll help you remember.” Then, the ghost started doing a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like him. Jingyi would be bristling in protest if the (his?) hands found the horribly ticklish spot right next to his stomach and was trying to pinch it senseless. “'Senior Wei, Senior Wei! My classes have been canceled, can you believe? I can stay here with you the entire day!'"

“This is not…” hs snorted and started to squirm even more, feeling himself slip more and more into titters. “Behehihing tickled to death was nohohot what I-I meheheant!"

Wei Wuxian chuckled mischievously, very much proud to realize that not even death took away his amazing tickling and teasing skills. He spent years honing it to perfect, afterall. “You should’ve been more clear, then. Or are you going back on your word, now? Tsk Tsk, and here I thought that the Lans prided themselves in their honor and fairness. Leaving a poor ghost here all alone, denying him his last wishes of experimenting and being happy before we part our ways. Refusing to even help me for a single day… Sniff. Where has the compassion gone in this new generation?"

Jingyi stomped his feet on the floor, protesting. The effect of it was dimmed by the giant smile going from ear to ear in his face. The hands now decided to “walk” with two fingers up and down his ribs, making his nerves dance with the anticipation and light tickling

"Y-you’re not going awahahay. And I can’t spend the entire day like this, stohohohop tickling me!"

“Tickling? I would never!” Wei Wuxian gasped and pulled his hands a few inches away from his skin, wiggling them in front of his face and giving the whole “ghost tickles” a new meaning as Jingyi squeaked and kept giggling uncontrollably, almost feeling this wiggling touch back on his torso. “See? I am not even touching you and you are still laughing, that has nothing to do with me.”

“I am nehehever-” his face was starting to get hot, looking at the playful way Senior Wei looked at him with a merciless grin definitely didn’t help. The more the older one kept poking, playing, teasing him, the more he felt that he would crumble in the very moment the actual tickling started. “nehehever helping yohohour experiments agahain.”

"Aw, but you must, Jingyi! Aren't you excited to know what will happen? Who will win, your natural defenses or my attack? Shizui, Don't you think it's an important research to know if ghosts can make you tickle yourselves?"

"It's not!" Jingyi's protesting words disappeared in a shriek when his hands pretended to lunge to his body, clawing, only to stop to hover above his belly. More uncontrollable, protesting giggles fell like a waterfall from his mouth. "Thahahat's stupid. Shihihihihizui, tell him!"

Shizui, like the good, righteous kid he was, pretended he heard nothing of their banter and kept feeding the rabbits hopping around him. When Wei Wuxian turned away snickering and twirling around Jingyi teasingly, he sent his friend an apologetic smile.

Wei Wuxian continued with plenty of mirth and dramatics. Delighted as always to be free to exercise his pranking rights. "Is that how you talk with your seniors? Lan Jingyi, what would Hanguang-Jun say?"

"He wohohohould protect me!"

"Would he, now? So where's your Hanguang-Jun, huh? To take you out of the evil Patriarch Yilling’s claws."

“Nohohot evil. Stohohop it.”

Wei Wuxian’s grin softened, for a moment. Then he lightened up once more. “Maybe I could even tickle him when he appears! It would take me much more energy but can you imagine? Is Hanguang Jun even ticklish? Have you ever seen he gig-" The ghost stopped as if he had been his, going from looking thoughtful for a moment then startled and embarrassed. If Jingyi didn't know him better, he could say a flash of hunger appeared in his eyes. Probably he was already going crazy because of the antecipation, though.

"Anyway!" He clapped his hands and Jigyi's own followed his moves. He tried once more squirm free from it, but it was impossible to concentrate his qi enough to push away the... possession? Control? Whatever this was before Wei Wuxian got a hold of it once again.

A loud squeal flew from his mouth when a finger poked too close his bellybutton, and he immediately descended in stronger giggling.

The smirk that opened in Wei Wuxian face was positively evil.

"I think we found a good spot." He sing-songed, the finger started circling his bellybutton, lightly scribbling the trembling skin around it, pulling guffaws that stopped him from pulling his belly away from the ticklish touch. Everytime it tried to twitch away, the finger would poke and poke and poke the button until he was too distracted to protest. “Sehehehenior Wei, wait!”

For a blissful second, he did.

Somewhere near, someone was letting out the most high pitched, half disparate and half joyful laughter. Jingyi felt his entire body want to run away, to squirm and trash and laugh with all the energy he was holding still. Only when he opened one eye to look at the floating ghost in front of him and his childhood friend smiling softly in the background did he realize he was the one responsible for these sounds.

A silly snort intertwined in his laughter.

Wei Wuxian tapped a finger on his lips, pensative.

“Should I? Should I wait a bit more?” The finger scraped the tiniest bit on the walls of his bellybutton and Jingyi jumped on the same place, nodding and giggling and snorting and making himself stand still so the tickling wouldn’t be worse. “Hmmm, let me think about it…”

The finger kept light touches, soft tickles grazing the horribly ticklish skin. Jingyi shook his head at it.

Until it finally stopped.

A breath of air, his snickers were still filling the air.

Wei Wuxian tsked. “No. I don’t think I will.”

And then attacked.

(Shrieking, mirthful laughter danced in the air.)

[~*~]

Something something wat if Lan Wangji palyed Inquiry and Wei Wuxian answered something something what if he became closer to Shizui and Jingyi and watched and helped them as they grew up something something what if those 13 years of waiting were filled with his laughter and love something something.

#I dind't proofread it so rip kjhgfdfghjkdfghju #From this idea I jumped immediately to write day 11 so kjhgfdefgh idk if the days between these will have a story kjhygtfredfgh let's see #Ticklish!Jingyi #Ler!Wei Wuxian #Writing wuxian being a gremlin and a tickle monster is always a delight <3 <3 <3 he is a menace #Kanene's fic #Kanene's fanfic #mdzs tickles #mdzs tickling #Maybe the writing sounds clonky :") and Wei Wuxian a little ooc.#But!! My attemption stays! so let's gooo

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onceuponastory · 2 years ago

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give me thunder, give me lightning - the winter soldier x reader

Part Five of my Ghost Story AU - Find the series masterlist here

Plot: In the aftermath of HYDRA's return, things are rebuilt and redefined. Pairing: The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Mentions of death/murder, violence, injuries/bruises (not too graphic though), weapons, nightmares, trauma, anxiety and angst. Once again, everything Bucky did as TWS and had done to him by HYDRA is a trigger. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: We made it to part five! Technically the final chapter? As always, thank you for enjoying this story so much. Here's a link to the song this chapter is named after, Take Me Dancing by The Maine. You'll need it for later ;)

Not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

“W-What did you just say?” Y/N asks. She hopes this is just a mistake, something she misheard. Even the possibility of Bucky playing some cruel practical joke on her crosses her mind.

For a moment, she wonders if she was the one who got shoved backwards, who slammed her head against a table and is now lying against a cold, hard floor. If this is merely a dream, or a hallucination in a damaged mind.

Because Bucky, protective, loving Bucky, who looked at her like she hung the moon and stars in the sky, who listened to every single one of her stories about growing up and her family, even the boring ones, hanging onto every word, who at least said something when she spoke to him… now stares back at her like he doesn’t even know her.

Even death would be better than this.

As Bucky begins to walk towards them, she registers Steve saying: “Y/N. You should go. Let us handle this.” but she ignores his words.

“Bucky?” Silence. All Y/N can hear is the pounding of her heart. No recognition comes from him, and he continues to move forward, keeping his stare fixed on the trio. He’s like a completely different person, a shell of his former self. HYDRA must’ve wiped his memory again, or activated his trigger words again.

And that thought scares her to death. Not because of what Bucky could do to them, but what it means to him. Even as he bears down on them, all she can think about is how much this has messed up his healing, and how they could ever possibly fix this.

Steve and Sam try to fend him off, to break through his programming once more. And they put up a good fight, but Bucky’s moves are fluid and rapid, too calculated for them both. Whilst they’re cautious about harming him, he's not. He blocks every one of their attacks with ease and quickly deals out ones of his own. He shows them no mercy, dealing out punch after punch. Finally, Y/N sees the full extent of what Bucky’s capable of, the soldier HYDRA trained him to be.

And although she knows (or at least hopes) that Bucky wouldn’t hurt her, seeing him like this terrifies her.

“Y/N. Get out of here. Run.” Steve repeats, but she has no time to respond before Bucky throws him down.

And then, there’s nothing to protect her, nothing separating them both. Bucky stops in front of her, panting. The same pair of silvery blue eyes, now empty and cold, stare back at her. Immediately, she’s back in her grandma’s house again, facing Bucky for the first time. And now, she must fight for her survival again. But this time, it hurts even more. This time, there’s so much more at stake. For all the times she used to worry about Bucky trying to hurt her, she never actually imagined it would happen, or thought about what she would do if it ever did.

So now, she has no idea what to do, or how to save herself.

“Bucky, please.” The words leave her mouth as a strained gasp. As if her words could undo the decades of torture and suffering HYDRA put him through. But that's all she can do. It’s all she has. Steve and Sam, they’re superheroes, with weapons and other resources at their disposal, and that didn’t even work. All she has is her love for Bucky, and her want to bring him back.

And this time, she’s not sure it’s going to be enough.

But she has to try. She’s the only hope they have right now.

“Bucky. I-It’s me, remember? Y/N?” She’s aware of her voice cracking, a sign of the fear and pain of the last god knows how many hours finally taking their toll on her. And she hates it. She wishes she could be strong. Show Bucky that she’s not afraid, and that they’ll get through this together. But she can’t. “You met me at my grandma’s house, remember? It was a lot like this, actually.”

He’s silent. All he does is stare at her, calculating his next move. HYDRA told him to eliminate all their enemies here. He’s already fended off two of them with ease, and now it’s her turn.

So why hasn’t he done it yet?

“Everything’s different now, though.” She chuckles awkwardly. “But I know you’re still in there, Bucky, and I’ll bring you back, no matter what I do.”

Why won’t she stop calling me Bucky? He thinks. Why is she staring at me like that?

Yet, just as soon as his programming kicks in once more, and he readies his arm to eliminate this threat, another voice sounds, breaking through HYDRA’s orders. Fight it. Fight back. She’s right. Trust her. And he feels compelled to listen to it.

“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. We all call you Bucky. You used to love it when I’d play my grandma’s records for you. You loved The Rolling Stones, but I think Ella Fitzgerald was your favourite.” His broken brain tries to put the pieces together, tries to find the song she means… but all that comes through is a garbled mess. The clearest part, though, is HYDRA’s programming. Fight it. The voice says again. Don’t let them destroy you again. But their programming is just too strong.

“Stop it.” He hisses. “Shut up.” She’d be lying if she said his coldness and cruelty don’t hurt, and she has to remind herself that it’s not actually him saying those words. She just has to persist. She has to bring him back.

“Remember the night I fell asleep, and you covered me with the blanket?” There’s a tingle up his human arm then, a feeling of soft cotton tucked around a sleeping form. Of the golden rays of the sunrise flooding into the room, warming his body. His heart starts beating faster. She looked so beautiful then… so radiant. “I was so afraid of you. I thought you were dangerous, and that you’d kill me right there and then. I must admit, a part of me thinks that, even now. But I know you won’t. I know it’s not you, Bucky. You’re not a monster. You never were.”

He registers shouting in his ear, furious voices ordering him to go out and kill everyone who stood in their way. Despite being reactivated by HYDRA again, he knew something was wrong, that some part of him didn’t want to do this. Suddenly, the mask shifts, and Bucky Barnes starts to break through. “Y-Y/N?”

Unfortunately, almost as soon as it shifts, HYDRA’s programming kicks in again, and he’s back to the soldier he once was. “Stop it.” He hisses.

“Never.”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to save me?” He demands. Yet, his face shows no anger. It's more sadness than anything. As if he remembers just how brutal his life is, and that he’s already accepted he’s not worthy of love.

“Because I love you.” She wants to say, wants to shout it from the rooftops. It’s what she almost says, but the words get stuck in her throat. “Because I know it’s not you. It never was. You don’t want to do this, I know it. Please, Bucky.” She steps forward, closer to him, into the line of fire.

“Stay back.” He orders, pointing his gun, but she doesn’t stop.

“Bucky, this isn’t you.” She repeats. “Come back to me.” She’s crying now, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Her tears register something in his mind. This isn’t the first time he’s seen her crying, or pointed his gun at her.

How does he know her?

Why does he know her?

“Say it’s only a paper moon, sailing over a cardboard sea.” She sings, her voice soft and quiet at first. For a moment, she notices something in Bucky’s expression. It’s as if his programming slips again, and he hears her words. And they mean something to him. It’s almost as if the real Bucky comes through once more.

He’s sitting in a house, laughing and singing along. A happy warmth fills his blood. That was a wonderful memory. He felt… safe. He felt loved. Finally, he sees the girl he was with again. And she’s standing right in front of him.

His blue eyes look over her again. Like he’s discovering her for the first time again. “Y/N?” He whimpers. He seems shocked and confused, as if his true identity, his humanity, coming back was merely a switch being flicked. She smiles, a huge, wide smile as bright as the sun. And this time, Bucky recognises it.

“Hey Bucky.” He glances down at his hands, dropping his weapon to the floor immediately.

“W-What happened? Why am I holding a gun? D-Did I hurt you?” He panics, looking around wildly for any injuries.

“No, it’s okay. Shh. I’m here.” She soothes, clasping his hands tightly in the hopes they stop shaking. “And I’m okay.” Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Then he smiles, chuckling softly.

“Y/N… It’s so good to see-” But suddenly, he groans softly, his eyelids fluttering shut.

“Bucky?” she gasps, trying to hold on to the super soldier’s body as he begins to slump forward. The weight of his body almost knocks her over, but she keeps a grasp on him as tightly as she can. “What’s going on? Talk to me.” And once more, he’s silent. “Bucky!”

Sometime later, Bucky awakens, wincing at the bright light suddenly flooding the room. He groans, and his head pounds.

“He’s waking up.” Immediately, he’s on edge, expecting to see another HYDRA agent in front of him. Yet, thankfully, he recognises the voice. It’s Sam. Although, despite that, Bucky knows he can’t be too careful. This could be a trap to lure him into a false sense of security. It’s only when Steve and Sam step in front of him that Bucky slowly starts to relax. He tries to get up, but realises that something is pinning his metal arm down, preventing him from using it.

“Sorry. We had to be sure you were fully immobile.” Steve informs him. With a sigh, Bucky nods. They’re right, it is the best thing to do, especially when he’s still so unpredictable. But he’d be lying if he didn’t say that the fact that even his closest friends don’t feel safe around him didn’t hurt him deeply.

“W-What happened?” He frowns. He tries to find the memory, but like most of his memories, there’s just an empty space.

“We were hoping you could tell us that.” Bucky wracks his brain, looking for something, anything, to help.

“All I remember is we were trying to escape, but I got separated. I tried to get back to Y/N, but I got lost. And then, out of nowhere, these agents surrounded me.” The insignia on their uniforms jumps out at him, as clear as day. A final, sick reminder. “It was HYDRA.”

Suddenly, memories come flooding back. Not of HYDRA, though, or of Steve and Sam. Of Y/N. And he realises that she’s nowhere to be seen. His stomach drops, and he begins to panic once more. “Y/N! Where is she? Is she okay? Oh god, don’t tell me I’ve… please don’t tell me she's ....”

“Y/N’s fine.” Steve reassures him. “She’s resting.” And Bucky breathes the heaviest sigh of relief he swears he ever has before.

“Resting? From what? What happened?” Steve and Sam look between each other, and Bucky raises a brow. The longer they go without saying anything, the more worried he feels.

“You’re right. It was HYDRA who found you. We’re not entirely sure what happened, but they must have reactivated you and sent you out to stop us while they escaped.”

“Oh god.” He sighs, burying his face in his one free hand. “How bad was it?”

“Well, you definitely tried to stop us.” Sam begins, and from his tone, Bucky senses he shouldn’t press him on that any further. Guilt floods through him, and he groans.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s okay Buck.”

“No, it’s not. You two don’t have any idea what it’s like to be responsible for so much pain and carnage, but not even be aware of it. To have to question yourself every time you wake up, wondering what you did in the night. If you really were sleeping, or if you were out there, killing innocent people. You’ve never stared at yourself in the mirror and wondered about the true scale of what you’ve done, and how you can ever repent for it. And you haven’t had to worry about the people who did this to you finding you and doing it all over again, like today.” He snaps. When he sees their shocked faces staring back at him, he sighs. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s okay Buck. All things considered, it wasn’t too bad, actually. Surface wounds at most.” Steve replies. Another small sigh of relief sounds from Bucky. That’s good. Not great, but good. They can work with this. Hopefully.

“Thank god. And thank you for bringing me back.” He sighs.

“Oh, that wasn’t us.” Sam informs him. The pair step aside, and Y/N steps forward.

“Bucky!” She smiles, immediately rushing over to him..

“Y/N. I’m so sorry.” He gasps, his voice full of sorrow. Will she ever be able to look at him again? Or will she always see him trying to kill them? He tried so hard to show her he’s not a monster, and this has just undone everything. Y/N kneels down in front of him until she’s eye level with him. Her eyes are so beautiful. How did he never notice that before? His only choice is to hope and pray that she’ll forgive him, and that she’ll ever be able to trust him again. A strand of Bucky’s hair falls down into his face, and Y/N reaches out and tucks it behind his ear.

“What are you saying sorry for?” She whispers. Bucky scoffs, shaking his head. There’s no way she can be this kind and forgiving. Especially after that.

“I tried to kill you.” She shakes her head.

“But you didn’t, remember? Just like before, you stopped yourself, and you came back.”

“Because of you. You’re amazing, Y/N. I don’t deserve you. I deserve to be alone. It’s not safe to be with me.” She cups his cheek, gazing into his eyes. And Bucky feels a warmth growing in his stomach once more.

“Well, that’s tough, because I’m not going anywhere.” She insists. “I know it wasn’t your choice, Bucky. It was HYDRA’s.”

“And what if they come back? They’re still out there, and the last thing I want is to-”

“Then we’ll be ready for them.” She finds his hand, squeezing it tightly. He feels so comforted by her grasp, so safe. He stares back at her, his heart pounding. No matter how hard he tries to convince her to leave, he knows she’s not going to listen. She’s stubborn as all hell, and she definitely isn’t going to give up anytime soon. But it’s so wonderful to have someone care about you so much that when they stare into the depths of hell with you, instead of running, they refuse to leave your side.

“You’re incredible.” He gasps, not even thinking. A light pink dusts his cheeks, and Y/N smiles, giggling a little.

“Besides,” She continues. “You promised me we’d be back in my grandma’s house, remember?” That feels so long ago, an entire lifetime ago. Bucky doesn’t even know if he’ll make it to tomorrow, let alone till then. But as he watches Y/N beaming over at him, and realises just how much he loves her, he knows he has to keep his promise to her. And he'll do his best to make it happen, no matter how long it takes.

In the aftermath of the attack, Y/N and Bucky are soon called into multiple meetings to find out how this could’ve happened, why it happened, and how to stop it from ever happening again. And Y/N hates every minute of them, especially how she has to see Bucky’s face as he has to relive his trauma over and over with every question they ask him, and how they keep prodding him for answers he clearly cannot remember enough to give. When they ask him if he had any knowledge of what HYDRA was planning, or if he had helped them do it, Y/N swears she could’ve thrown the table across the room in anger. Thankfully, they both have Steve and Sam in their corner defending them, and Fury and Maria help in their own… ‘special’ way.

When it is all finally over, the small matter of where Bucky should stay comes into question. Although the HQ looked alright from the outside, the attack raised so many questions on allegiances and safety that Bucky can no longer stay there. Neither Y/N nor Bucky wanted to ask if it was because they still thought he was responsible.

Thankfully, everyone in charge somehow seems to agree that the best place for Bucky wasn’t in a cell in Avengers HQ, but with Y/N in her safe apartment. Of course, Y/N is more happy to have him stay with her, but she’s confused why she was chosen first. Maybe they noticed the way she looks at him, and how hopelessly in love with him she is. But in all honesty, she doesn’t care about their reasoning. She’s just so thrilled to have Bucky back that she’s going to take every chance she can to be close to him after he’s been locked away for so long.

And the idea of living together with Bucky again is great. They're used to being together, just the two of them, and immediately felt happy to be going back to it. However, that happiness is very quickly shattered when the pair realise that SHIELD and the Avengers don’t exactly pride their safe houses on comfort or size. Or on having more than one occupant. And that means there’s only one available bed for them. Immediately, Bucky offers to take the couch. Both to be a gentleman, and because deep down, he’s still terrified that he’d scared her away from him for good.

“Bucky, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch. Especially not after all this.” Y/N insists, ignoring his attempts to argue that he was fine, and that he’s used to this sort of thing. In return, her insistence that she would sleep on the couch caused just as many protests from him. After some deliberation, the pair eventually decide their only choice is to share the bed.

“I’ll um. I’ll just stay over here, okay? I just want you to be comfortable.” Bucky murmurs, scooting as far as he can to the edge of the bed without the risk of falling out. He sees a flash of disappointment across her face as she sees him trying to get as far away from her as possible, and his stomach twists with guilt. He hates being so far from her, but he still can’t trust himself around her yet, and this is the best way to ensure her safety.

When he wakes up in the middle of the night with another nightmare, screaming and thrashing to thwart the HYDRA agents he’s sure are coming for them both, Y/N is right by his side, wrapping her arms around his crying, shaking frame. Just like before, she stays by his side, whispering reassuring words into his ear and staying awake with him until he calms down enough to try to get some sleep. “Thank you.” He whispers into the darkness.

“Of course.” Her voice replies.

The next morning, she wakes up in his arms. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N finally feels safe. In his sleep, Bucky reflexively tightens his grasp on her, pulling her closer. Whether for her safety or his own comfort, she doesn’t know. But she loves it all the same. Being here, in Bucky’s arms, just the two of them, is perfect. Everything finally feels right. She looks up at him, his lips parted slightly as he softly snores. He looks so at peace, finally free after god knows how long. His hair falls in his face again, and it takes everything in her to not reach up and tuck it behind his ear once more. Despite how much she wants to be closer to him now, Bucky deserves this rest, and she won’t ruin it for him.

And besides, looking isn’t so bad, right?

As they’re both under strict orders to stay where they are until the investigation is over, Y/N and Bucky have plenty of free time to do whatever they want. And Y/N takes it as her opportunity to show Bucky some more of the things he’s missed over the years, like her favourite movies and books. She also makes sure to give Bucky the care he deserves. One night, when he feels comfortable enough, she runs him a bath and washes his hair for him, gently massaging the shampoo and conditioner into his scalp. Although Bucky flinches at her touch a few times, he soon feels safe and comfortable enough to relax. And besides, he knows Y/N could never hurt him. Even after everything he’s done, she’s stayed by his side and fought for him when it seemed like nobody else would.

Honestly, Bucky thinks he could thank her every minute of every day for the rest of her life, and it still wouldn’t be enough appreciation. As she gently rinses his hair, he glances over at her. And the familiar feeling of butterflies in his stomach starts all over again. She’s so beautiful. So caring. Even if he never tells her how he feels, that whenever she laughs, his heart grows three sizes bigger, and that he thinks she is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, even when she thinks she looks like a mess after waking up… he’s so grateful that he got to know her, and be cared for by her.

“That’s you all done, Bucky.” Y/N smiles. “Do you need anything else?” Bucky almost laughs at that. Because what else could she do for him? She’s done so much already. Too much, some would argue.

“No, thanks.” He smiles back, just as bright as Y/N’s. He wonders if she ever notices how he only seems to smile around her… or at least, even more than he does when he’s with Steve and Sam. Little does Bucky know, however, that Y/N has noticed. And every time she remembers it, it sends her heart into a spiral all over again.

“Okay. I’ll leave you in peace then.” As she gets up to leave, Bucky almost stops her, not ready to stop this moment just yet. But then he remembers where they are. How the hell is he going to explain why he wants her to stay to watch him getting out of a bathtub? Even though she’s just washed his hair for him, she’s never seen him like this before. So… undressed. It feels too intimate, too different for them both.

So he lets her go. As the door clicks shut behind her, Bucky sighs, leaning his head against the cool tiles. He can’t keep going on like this, of having his chest tighten every time he sees her, or have his heart beat faster and faster whenever she smiles. He has to tell her. He’s just too damn terrified.

Later that night, Y/N and Bucky sit together listening to music, like they do most nights. Somehow, though, tonight is different. There’s a different atmosphere in the air surrounding them, one neither is willing to mention. Because once that’s broken, and their feelings are out in the open… It changes everything. And despite the hell they’ve both been through, somehow admitting their feelings for each other is the scariest thing either of them could imagine. There are no take backs, no do overs. Once it’s done, that’s it.

“How’s your neck, by the way?” Bucky asks, gesturing to the bandage on it. A cruel reminder of the last few days.

“It’s, um, good.” She nods. “They said it won’t scar or anything, thank god.”

“That’s great then.” Y/N nods again, curtly. She’s never felt so strange around Bucky, even when they first met. Say something. Anything.

“Do you wanna dance with me?” She asks, her voice coming out so quickly that Bucky has to ask her to repeat herself. God, this is torture. Thankfully though, Bucky says yes, and pulls her up. Y/N presses shuffle on her phone, and soon the all too familiar guitar intro to Take Me Dancing by The Maine begins to play. Immediately, Y/N’s cheeks burn. “Oh god, I’m sorry, this is a slow song. I-I can change it.” She stammers, hating herself for being so obviously flustered.

“No, please don’t.” Bucky chuckles. “It’s been a while, but I was a pretty keen dancer back in the 40s. I could use a refresher.” He holds out his hand, scarred and bruised. “May I?” Y/N slips her hand into his, interlinking her fingers with his and gently running hers along his bruises. But he can see no judgement or fear in her gaze. She looks at him with the same comfort as she always has. Y/N moves his hand to her waist and takes her other hand in his.

The apartment wasn’t exactly made for slow dancing, but honestly, Y/N doesn’t care where they are. Because wherever she and Bucky are… that’s home. Bucky twirls her under his arm, holding her close as he sways her to the music. He really is a wonderful dancer. He definitely kept his skills from the 40s. She used to wonder what it’d have been like to know him then, and how different it would have been from their life now. Obviously, there’d be a lot less fear and violence, but honestly, she doesn’t care about that anymore. She’s so in love with Bucky that she’ll always take him as he is.

“Give me thunder, give me lightning, And I will give you every part of me.”

As John O’Callaghan’s voice fills the room, Y/N almost finds herself laughing at the lyrics. In a way, it’s a perfect representation of her life with Bucky. He was the storm that blew into her life, destroying everything she once knew. And for a moment, she was terrified he’d destroy her too. But now, they’re slow dancing together, finally safe. And she’s head over heels in love with him. Bucky steps closer to her without even thinking, pulling her even closer to his chest as his grasp tightens on her.

Even as the music fades out, Bucky keeps a hold on her, gently swaying her to their own rhythm. The warmth radiating from his body envelops them both, and she can hear his heartbeat through his chest.

“You know.” He murmurs, his stubble lightly grazing her cheek. “I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for what you did for me. What you continue to do for me.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck. You never did.”

“I do.” He disagrees. “I really do. You saved me, showed me what more there is to life. You may have given me my old life back, but you’ve given me something wonderful and new, too. Hope.” He looks at her properly now, light blue eyes staring into her soul. “And I can’t thank you enough for it. You’re a real angel, you know that?” She can see tears building in his eyes, and no doubt she’s close to tears, too. Her heart swells, and she smiles.

“You’re welcome, Bucky. But I wouldn’t say I’m an angel. I just saw you needed help, and I gave you it. Anyone else would.” Bucky blinks in surprise, unable to believe how this wonderful, beautiful person is undermining herself so much, especially when he owes his life to her. But he’ll tell her how special she is for the rest of his life.

“'Anyone else', is not you, Y/N.” He whispers, his breath hot against her cheek and sending a shiver down her spine. “And you are an angel to me.” Sniffling, Y/N nods.

“Thank you Bucky. I wish it could be like this all the time, just me and you, together.” She sighs.

“Me too.” Her eyes flicker to his lips. So pink. So soft. Have they always been so pink? God, it’s like I’m noticing him for the first time all over again.

“Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“I have something I need to tell you.” Bucky takes a deep breath. “I’m in love with you.” Despite how often her heart beat increases around Bucky, in that moment Y/N swears she feels it stop. For a moment she thinks she misheard him, but when he continues, saying: “I don’t know when, o-or how it happened. But god, Y/N, I’m tired of pretending. I love you so much. And I want you to know it.” She’s too stunned to reply, and Bucky’s heart sinks, thinking she doesn't feel the same. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I-”

But a comforting hand on his forearm stops him. One he knows all too well. “Bucky.” Y/N smiles softly, tears already running down her cheeks. “I love you too.”

“You do?” He gasps. Gingerly, he raises his metal hand, wordlessly asking her if it’s okay to continue, and Y/N nods. Bucky cups her cheek with his metal hand, cool against her skin. He never thought something responsible for so much death and pain could hold something so beautiful. “Can I kiss you?” When she nods again, Bucky gently leans in close, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss is firm, yet soft. It’s nothing like Y/N has ever experienced before. She pulls him closer, deepening the kiss. When they pull apart, Bucky’s cheeks are a soft pink, and he chuckles, no doubt trying to maintain his cool facade from the 40s, but completely failing. He gazes back at her, unable to stop smiling. “That was… perfect.” Y/N leans in, pecking his cheek.

“You’re perfect.” She whispers.

“Are you trying to get me to kiss you again?” He raises a brow, yet still can’t keep the grin off of his face. “Because it’s working.” And then he pulls her close once more.

“It’s not going to be for too long…. I hope.” Bucky reassures Y/N, squeezing her hand. Yet, as she glances over at him, she can tell he’s trying to put on a brave face himself. A few weeks after she and Bucky admitted their love for one another, King T’Challa, The King of Wakanda, and an ally of Steve and Sam’s, heard of Bucky’s plight and offered to take him in and use their technology to help him break free from HYDRA’s programming. Obviously, they both jumped at the chance. And now, the day that Bucky’s going to leave has finally come.

Y/N knows this is the best place for Bucky to be, and she’s incredibly glad that he finally gets the chance to heal, and grateful to T’Challa for giving him this chance. But the fact that Bucky’s leaving her is tearing her up inside. Thankfully, T’Challa was incredibly kind and understanding, telling her she can visit him whenever she wants, and that she can even stay there with him for a while if she wanted to.

And whilst she wants that more than anything, Y/N said no. At least, for the first little while. She loves Bucky more than anything in the world, and because of that, she wants to give him the best chance to heal. And to her, that means stepping back and letting him take as long as he needs to process this on his own. That doesn’t mean she’s going to completely stop talking to him, though. She’s going back to her grandma’s house for a week or two to assess the damage and deal with things there, and then she, Steve and Sam are going to Wakanda to visit him. She sighs, looking at Bucky.

Yet it still feels like she’s never going to see him again. Bucky pulls her into a hug, as if he senses her nerves. “I’ll see you soon, alright? And like T’Challa said, I’m sure we’ll be able to keep in contact somehow.”

“I know.” She manages a smile. “Just don’t forget about me, alright?” Bucky chuckles, giving her a quick, yet passionate kiss.

“Like I ever could.” They stay like that, in each other’s arms for a while, until T’Challa approaches them both.

“It’s time.” He smiles.

“Well, this is it.” Bucky chuckles, but she can see the tears shimmering in his eyes. Y/N surges forward, grabbing him and squeezing tightly.

“I love you.” She whimpers, and Bucky sniffles.

“I love you too.”

And with one last kiss, he’s gone.

Y/N makes the trip back to her grandma’s house in silence. Steve and Sam offered to go with her in case any rogue HYDRA agents were there, but she declined, still too emotional from saying goodbye to Bucky to even think about saying goodbye to them, even if it is just for a few weeks. The time she spent with them was so fast-paced and frightening, and it’s hard to believe it’s over, and how things are changing between them all.

The house still looks just as imposing as it did before, and the front steps still creak as she goes up them, advancing towards the front door. Her hands brush against the doorknob, and she braces herself for what she’s about to find. The memory of the last time she was here enters her mind once more, and Y/N sighs. If only she knew what awaited her the last time she opened that front door, maybe she wouldn’t have opened it. But deep down, she knows that if Bucky would’ve been there on the other side, she’d do it all again in a heartbeat.

Strangely, the house seems more or less the same since they left, only a few things out of place here and there, presumably caused by the wind blowing through the window Bucky broke. It’s like nobody has been there at all. Despite her footsteps around the house, it’s eerily quiet. Last time, she sensed Bucky’s presence, and knew she wasn’t alone. Now though, she can't feel a thing. Not even a ghost.

Every time she enters a room, a part of her expects to see Bucky sitting there, waiting for her. Like he was the last time she came here. And every time she realises he’s not there, it breaks her heart all over again. Finally, after she’s checked every room, the reality that everyone is really gone hits her, and she breaks down in tears.

She’s never felt so alone.

This is NOT the end of this story! There's still going to be an epilogue (that may turn into a final chapter depending on how long it is). They will get their happy ending, I promise!

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