#Hi welcome to my brain in which i continue to torture him and he hates me cuz i put him in shit he wouldn't wear

[mabaki]

iykyk

[scottxlogan]

Scogan/Scott Summers Comic Recs (Part 2)

Since I write way too much I’m going to put these in here for the anon who asked and link it back because I say way too much. That being said the continuation of my earlier recs are under the cut:

Avengers vs X-Men For the most part I consider this event a dumpster fire where they dumbed down every character to make their plan work...only it didn't. It was as if Marvel decided that it was time to make Scott a top villain in the Marvel Universe. They tried and failed completely in doing so, but they also pretty much ignored characterizations and friendships with EVERYONE in the comic to push the whole hero vs hero crap. It is not my favorite, but a lot of what happens after this event kind of shapes a lot of the talks, etc. after the event. Spoiler Alert (Don't read if you don't want to know): Basically the Phoenix Force is coming to earth again, Steve Rogers (who has been friends with Scott for a while now and trusts Scott's opinion on a lot of things) decides not to reach out to Scott for advice on the potential problem first even though he KNOWS Scott is an expert on the Phoenix and instead listens to Scott's bitter, jaded ex lover who is angry Scott didn't beg him to stay at the end of Schism or chase him in his need for space...er, I mean his ex-teammate Wolverine who has an obvious chip on his shoulder. Steve gets council from Logan, not taking Logan's bitterness into consideration and goes to the island where Scott's X-Men live and starts making some ridiculous demands of Scott. A fight breaks out after that, the teams act like idiots fighting each other instead of working together, I found myself taking two plus years to like Steve again after this event (which I swear I really do. I like Steve a lot now but was so angry with him for not using his brain and common sense in having a rational discussion with Scott before all the stupidity followed). The fighting leads to more drama. Tony comes up with a plan to stop the Phoenix Force from destroying the world. It fails. The Phoenix Force gets split into 5 and Scott, Emma, Namor, Magik and Colossus end up getting pieces of it. They all slowly get corrupted by it except for Scott, who is the last one to hold onto it. Namor does some really bad stuff to Wakanda (yet T'Challa forgives him and hates on his wife Storm, who had no part of it and treats her really bad, which I have to say here thank you to Chadwick Boseman for making me love T'Challa because after AvX I was really angry with him in the comics for how he treated Storm) and Namor is later welcomed back into the fold with open arms. Flash forward to Scott and Emma being the only ones with Phoenix powers. Emma gets corrupted. The entire Marvel hero roster decides to attack Scott who takes Emma's piece of the PF, becomes ultra powerful and is then attacked by everyone including Charles, who has systematically abused the poor kid since the beginning (i.e. erasing his memories, training him to be a child soldier, etc.). Scott kills Charles in self defense (which I'm sorry but it was) and then everyone in the universe hates him, acts like he's the worst villain ever and puts him in a corrupt prison where mutants are being tortured/murdered and somehow Steve is okay with that (yeah okay :rolling eyes:) but basically this crap show ends with Charles dying and Scott being enemy number one for defending himself against an attack. Before he was attacked his big 'power display' was you know feeding the hungry, bringing water back to rivers that ran dry and helping people, but Charles and the others decided he shouldn't be playing God like that and decide to attack him, which you know totally makes sense and then Charles dies and suddenly Scott's the worst person alive...oh the rage it still ignites in me lol. This was the motivation for Hank in All New X-Men to bring the teens back to the future to in my opinion torture teen Scott because his jerk self didn't get the chance to do it to adult Scott, who no longer lets Hank's hypocrisy tear him down, but yeah...lol It's a rough read and one I really didn't enjoy at all, but it dictates the next few years of Scott's a fugitive of the law, etc. Oh and at the end of the day through all that was happening Scott was doing what he did because his son Cable told him not to trust the Avengers and that Hope (Scott's granddaughter) would be the one to save them since Wanda (in a grief episode) pretty much wiped out the mutant population and Scott was struggling to save his people. Big stakes, high risk and guess what...Hope and Wanda did save them and found a way to use the PF to bring about new mutants into the world, but sigh...so much wrong with this one but it's such a big part of their stuff that followed though most of us want to forget.

Avengers vs X-Men Consequences This was a mini that really explored the aftermath of the dumpster fire mentioned above. There's a lot about it that makes you angry, but also gives you thought towards what could come next. Scott's goal for so long was saving the world and now that he has and he was right and did what he was hoping to do, he's in jail accepting his fate ready to die (note: there's some suicidal triggers/depression there and at one point he tries to goad Logan into murdering him instead of dying at the hands of the sadistic prison guards. It's all very poignant and heart breaking and damn...it totally kills you on so many levels). There's also a bit where Scott and Tony work together to figure out what went wrong in Tony's plan, which I'll be honest that was probably my favorite part with Scott and Tony working together in prison. In prison bad stuff happens, Scott finds a purpose in his life and he works towards saving mutants again. It's still flawed, but has some stuff worth seeing. Wolverine and the X-Men Vol. 1 #40 A lot of people liked Jason Aaron’s series about Logan. I didn’t, but I did like the one issue where the guys team up together, fight some sentinels and drink some beer together. It’s a good moment for them where there are shades of them coming together again down the road. Death of Wolverine: Life after Logan: This is a mini with people responding to Logan dying. Scott’s tribute to Logan is heartbreaking and really cements their deep bond in the push and pull between them through the years. Uncanny X-Men (2018-2019) Start with #11. Scott is back and trying to save his people. This is the comic that got me back into buying comics again. It doesn’t have the most solid of endings, but it brings Scott/Logan back to working together and gives some great stuff where they are reunited and picking up where they left off with one another. You can feel the shades of love and concern for each other, but most of all, it was a great lead in to them building up to them being together in the poly ship with Jean. Granted Marvel likes to ignore the Scott/Logan dynamic but this comic has a domestic vibe with them even with their bickering and all else. It was good and made my Scogan loving heart so happy to see them together again lol. X-Men (Hickman’s run) The comic run before the current X-Men comic was a nice introduction to life in Krakoa and gave a few moments here and there with Scott/Logan. There were little things along the way but it was nice to see them allowing Scott/Logan to be together even with Jean involved. It was nice. Now the only time you really see them together is in other comics where they aren’t the main focus, but it’s clear they are together which is great. So yeah those are a few to get you started. I hope this helps at least a little bit and doesn’t confuse you. If you have any comic questions, on where to look at them, etc. please feel free to drop me a note and I’ll guide you in the right direction. My archive has a lot of featured comic moments and I tried to put issues/comic names on them when I was posting them for a while, so I hope that helps. Thanks for your great ask and hopefully I haven’t talked you out of researching the comics and exploring lol.

[cassandrajoybellbittner]

Runaway Wolf - Chapter 20b

*Warning Adult Content*

Levi Blackman

I sat in a window seat and watched the snow fall outside.

It was so quiet around here you wouldn’t think there were people living here if I hadn’t seen a few wolves running around with Lakota.

I smiled to myself.... it looks like he’s made some friends.

I turned when I heard a knocking on my door.

A tall man that look a tad like Cyrus walked in.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

I shook my head.

“No.”

he smiled.

“Good, I just came to welcome you to our pack house. You’ve been out for a while so I never got the chance.”

“Oh, thank you… and you are?” I asked confused.

“Alpha Leon Redding, Cyrus’s father.”

He held his hand out and I shook it.

'Oh so this was Leon.'

Hold on... if he was Cyrus’s father that meant Cyrus was soon to be… no wait.

I thought back to the fight and I remember Cyrus using some sort of power on the hunter that attacked me which meant he was an Elder!

“I’m Levi Blackman”

“Oh we know, my son and I tracked down you and your mates pack. There a nice bunch, they let us keep you till you were recovered before coming to get you.”

I frowned.

“Have you called them yet?”

I didn’t want to go back yet, Kyle still didn’t remember anything.

“No…” he answered slowly.

“Good.”

The frown was prominent on his brow but otherwise ignored my strange behavior.  

“Well you can stay as long as you like, alright?”

I nodded grateful for his understanding.

“Just let me know when you would like me to call your pack” Alpha Redding said before smiling softly and leaving the room.

I sat there silent continuing to look out the window.

Should I call them?

'Ugh... I felt so confused... my emotions were everywhere.'

I wanted to see Kyle and help him the best to my abilities but on the other hand I didn’t want to for fear of getting hurt.

The snow was still falling softly and I was tempted to just jump out this window and let the white consume me.

********

I had stayed in the room all day, it was dark out and I was lying under the covers staring at the shadowy ceiling.

It was pathetic really since I was hiding away from Kyle.

My body was crying out for him and so was my wolf which was dangerous.

Groaning I rolled over and buried my face in my pillow.

I could sense the pull of the moon tonight making thing worst.

The last time the full moon was up Kyle and I almost finished the mating bonds and it was also the night I killed Matthew.

God was it really a month ago that Matthew died.

That scene is etched into my brain for all time, the sound of the gun and the ominous sound of his neck snapping.

What has happened with my life?

Ever since meeting Kyle in that ally my life has gone to shit.

No, ever since first seeing him at the Blue Moon Pack house my life has been difficult.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, my mated wasn’t supposed to hate me and run off.

I should be happy right now, for once in a long time I was supposed to be enjoying life with my mate but instead I was heartbroken with his rejection from years back that still haunted me and now tortured with his lack of knowledge of what he’s done to me or of me period.

What do I do?

I couldn’t keep pretend that being around him didn’t hurt the crap out of me or pretend that I didn’t want to tear his damn clothes off and pounce on him every time I saw him.

Growling I threw the covers off me and stood unable to lay there any long. I was antsy and needed a little time to stretch my legs.

With a deep breath I walked towards the door and threw it open.

Maybe a night run with my wolf will do some good maybe help me to clear my head for a while.

I turned from closing my door but came to an abrupt halt, the air caught in my lungs and my heart accelerated quickly.

There standing in front of my door was Kyle.

His hand was up in a knocking position.

“Kyle,” I breathed.

What was he doing here.

Wasn’t Cyrus supposed to stall him, until I was ready?

"Hey."

[missus-shadowsinger]

Hi! Just discovered your blog and saw you’re having a sleepover. So could I ask for something with the fifth prompt from list 2 + the number 2 from list 5 please? ☺️

Hello and welcome! I love that your Icon is a sim. This blog used to be a simblr. I still play when I’m not on here!

I saw you sent in another message stating it’s for Bucky and when I saw what prompts you picked I about died. So hot so let get into it.

The prompt dialog will be in bold.

Minors DNI

Warnings: smut ( unprotected sex, daddy kink, p in v sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, degradation, brief mention of pregnancy, and masturbation) I think that’s it is porn without a plot.

It had been two weeks since Bucky had gone on a mission with Steve. Leaving you in your apartment at the compound alone awaiting his return. To say you were needy was an understatement. He made you promise not to touch yourself till he got back and even then he was supposed to take care of you. So why you decided to read a filthy book while he was away just to torture yourself nobody knows. But you did and now you lay in your bed craving his touch. Anticipating his return which should be any minute. You think to yourself that maybe reliving some pressure won’t hurt how would he know anyways as long as you stopped before he got here. You decide to reach down and just rub your swollen nub just a bit just to make it so you're not squirming. A gasp leaves your lips at the touch. It had been so long since it had attention.

You close your eyes and imagine it’s Bucky’s fingers there slowly massaging in circles. You are so engrossed in your fantasy you don’t hear the bedroom door open. You only realize someone is there when you feel the bed dip under someone’s weight. Your eyes fly open and your hand retreats from your clit. Bucky is looking at your pupils wide only leaving a thin line of blue around them. “Oh, Doll didn’t I say not to touch yourself till I get back?” He growls in your ear. You look at him and pout. “Yes, Bucky but-“ you whimper. He cuts you off. “ ah ah ah no buts, and you don’t call me Bucky remember.” He says running his thumb across your bottom lip. “ I’m sorry daddy.” You say and then take his thumb in your mouth and suck on it. Eliciting a moan from Bucky. “I should punish you. But, I know your small dumb bunny brain had a hard time resisting especially when I see that dirty book on the coffee table in the living room” he whispers in your ear. Taking his thumb out of your mouth with a “pop” and rubbing the moistened digit on your hard nipples pulling a sweet moan from you. “That’s is Bunny, did you miss my touch? Where you imagining me doing all those dirty things to you while reading that book? He coos while moving his metal hand down your body. The cool against your hot skin causing goosebumps and your nipples to harden even more than they already were. “Yes daddy, please daddy.” You plea squirming under him. “Please what Bunny?” He asks massaging your mound and getting awfully close to your nub but not actually touching it.

He can see your slick on your lips and thighs making his mouth water. It’s been too long without his bunny’s sweet pussy on his tongue. His cock is hardening under his tactical pants making it uncomfortable. He bites down on his lips knowing it will be taken care of soon. But first, he wants to coax a few orgasms out of you before burying his cock deep in those velvet walls. “Please I need your touch daddy, it’s been so long. I didn’t finish” you mewl looking right at him. Your big die eyes begging for release is all he needs to dive into you. Kissing you on your lips. Seeing his tongue begging for entrance. You deepen the kiss and your tongues fight for dominance. You’ve both been craving each other, hating these long spans of time away without each other's touch. He tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth causing you to moan in his mouth. He could never get used to those sweet sounds that leave you. Music to his ears. He climbed on top placing your legs on his hips allowing access for him to press his hardened bulge against your glistening pussy. Both of you growling “fuck” and the contact. He continues kissing down your body leaving small bites and nibbles on your neck and breast. Making you whimper only turning him on even more. Finally, he gets down to your pussy.

Leaving a small kiss on your swollen nub before sliding his fingers up and down your slit before entering. The sensation almost bringing you to orgasm. He pumps his flesh hand in and out of you finding that spongy spot easily while the metal hand works on your clit. “My god bunny your so tight and dripping for me already” he moans into your thigh kissing it giving it a soft bite. The act sending electricity up your body and the bundle tightening in your stomach finally snapping and a wave of ecstasy washes over you. " Fuck daddy, I'm cumming." you practically scream. Eyes rolling back in your head. Not giving you a break Buck lifts up your legs bending you in half and spreading your thighs wide as he dives in and eats you like a starved man. Ripping another orgasm from you minutes after the first. Gushing all over Bucky's face. Your juices dripping down his face he leans up and gives you a quick kiss before stripping himself of his pants that had painfully been holding back his hard cock. You watch as he strips though have dazed eyes watching his hard cock bounce against his stomach as it's finally released. Head swollen and dripping with precum. He walks back over to you. Climbing on the bed and hovering over your body slotting himself between your thighs.

He kisses and bites your neck had he glides his tip up and down your soaking slit causing you to shudder. Both of you moan deep from your chest. " I've been waiting for the day I come back and stuff your tight pussy with my cock." he growls into your ear and he bottoms out in your cunt in one swift movement. Both of you throw your head back and groan. He starts off painfully slow dragging his cock against your velvet walls. The friction causing that bundle to build up inside you once again. " Fuck Bunny you are gripping my cock like a vice" he grumbles through a clenched jaw. All you can do is mewl and moan. " aww is my Bunny too cock drunk you speak? IS my dick making you dumb baby?" He teases thrusting into you harder. All you do is nod while looking at him straight into his eyes. His eyelids heaving with lust. You angle your hips up making him go deeper and his head massaging your cervix. Causing you to gasp. " Fuck that feels good, a little too good actually... you trying to make me a daddy?" he moans. The thought of filling you up with his cum and having you swell with his child unlocks something feral inside of him. " Yes, daddy please cum in me. Give me a baby" you mewl. Hearing those words sends him over the edge. His pace was quickening. You tighten around him send you both to your highs. You gush around him as he coats the inside of your cunt in his cum. He thrust becoming sloppy. Finally pully out of you and crashing next to you. Kissing you like he has never kissed you before. He places his head on your breast and moves his flesh hand to your stomach. "You would be absolutely stunning swollen with my child, Bunny." he whispers. You look down at him and smile. " I'd love to be growing our little bean." you say. Bucky's eyes sparkle at the thought. Little did you both know that's exactly what would result from this night.

Join the sleepover here

[wizkiddx]

work with me

this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)

warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies

summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it

“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”

It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.

For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.

Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.

That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?

Of course not; that’d be boring.

Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.

When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.

“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Are you okay? It’s late T.”

“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”

As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.

Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.

That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.

You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.

It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.

Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.

Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?

Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.

And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.

The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.

“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.

“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.

Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.

“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.

“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”

Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.

“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“

“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”

Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.

And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.

This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.

Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.

This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.

“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”

Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.

Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.

“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.

The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.

Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.

“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“

“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.

“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”

“Y/n!”

“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”

It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.

Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.

Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.

“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.

Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.

“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.

The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.

“Tom!”

“It’s like ice water!”

“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”

“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”

“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.

You came back to him with an ultimatum.

“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”

“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.

“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”

Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .

“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.

“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”

“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”

“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”

He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.

“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.

Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.

“’m glad you did.”

“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).

Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.

Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.

Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.

“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.

“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“

“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.

Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.

It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.

“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.

“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.

He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.

Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.

It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.

“How’re you doin’?”

“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.

“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.

“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”

“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”

“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“

“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”

There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.

“What... like asking you out?”

…..

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”

~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove

[hxt1b]

As Long As I’m Here

Masterlist 

Taeyong x Reader 

Genre: Angst, CollegeAU (Hockey Player Taeyong)

Words: 5.7K

Warnings: Mature Themes (Mentions of Drunk Driving and Death. Sex.)

Accompanying Story: Isn’t It Lovely All Alone (Yuta)

A/N: I really hope you guys like this one. Please let me know what you think, it really means a lot to hear feedback from you guys. I also apologize about any grammatical errors, I did my best but some may have slipped through. Again, thank you for reading, I hope you guys like it. Ps. You guys don’t have to read the accompanying story to read this. This can be read as a stand alone!

“You were once told that guardian angels existed. You were sure yours brought you him.”

Smile, wave. Smile, head nod. Smile, say hi. They did it all, you were tired of it all. People would see you but no one wanted to get to know you. You were the silent girl in the corner of the class that no one gave a shit about. No one cared that one day you had the happiest life and the next it was crumbled at your feet. A dead limp hand crushing every sense of normalcy you had. Destroying any little hope you had in one wrong turn. 

Scowling at the ground you kept your eyes away from those smiles, you made your way to your first class of the day. As each day passed by you began to regret this class more and more. She had been the one to pick it. Her obsession with him had been what had driven her to want to be in this class roping you along in the process. 

“He’s bound to be in sports medicine.” She’d said to you in the summer while you had made your schedules. You’d just laughed at her, but you agreed. You always agreed. 

Now she was gone, laying six feet under the ground in a cold grave and you were the one stuck in this class. Having to see their faces every day, they laughed and talked to each other loudly in class. You didn’t blame them, but you did. 

The classroom was empty when you got to it. Which made sense you were early. You went to the back corner of the room and took your seat. As a fourth-year class, it was small only about a hundred kids in the class. Putting your bag down you pulled out your laptop getting ready for the class. 

They came in laughing, they were always laughing, you leaned your head onto your hand and looked out the window keeping your gaze away from them. Slowly the classroom filled up and the professor entered last. You actually liked the prof she was younger than all the other profs you had, and she was easy to talk to, she understood the pressure university put on you and accounted for the fact that each kid had a lot more on their plate and suited her syllabus to that, too bad you just simply hated her class. 

“I’ve graded your quizzes I will be handing them back at the end of today’s class. Speaking of which, today's class will be only half our regular time -” You tuned her out as she continued not caring to pay attention any longer. You watched the breeze outside the window as it made the trees dance, the green leaves giving way to the oranges and reds of autumn your mind drifting off to all the places you try to forget, to all the memories you won’t relive and all the memories you’ll never make. 

“Okay, that’s it. Come up to my desk and grab your quiz from me as you go.” You slowly began to pack in no rush to be anywhere particular, your empty apartment was waiting for you nothing else anyway. 

You rose from your seat swinging your bag on and making your way to the front of the classroom. The professor looked at you as you walked up to her and fished your quiz out from the pile handing it to you with a small smile of pity. You weren’t shocked when you turned the quiz around and looked at the thirty-four percent at the top of the sheet. Shrugging you turned away from her desk bumping straight into a hard shoulder. Somehow, he managed to knock your quiz out of your hand. 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Taeyong said. You rolled your eyes and quickly bent to grab your quiz. You ignored him as you straightened up and pushed past him making sure you didn’t look at him. Taeyong. You hated that name so much; your feelings were beyond your grasp. They always tunnelled into a monumental force that you could never reign in. 

Making your way out of the classroom you decided to go to the library instead of back to your apartment. You didn’t have any other class today but going back to the silence of your apartment seemed like torture you weren’t ready for. 

The heat in the library never seemed to work, but you didn’t mind the cold helped to numb your brain while you read. You made your way to the corner of the library that was home to the books that weren’t about academics. Dumping your bag down in a corner on the floor you made your way through the shelves looking for something to read. Something to take your mind away from the bitter anger that you constantly stayed in. Finding the book you wanted, you head back to your spot and sank into the ground next to your bag and opened the book. 

You heard them like usual before you saw them. Their loud whispers carrying through the air to you accompanied by their footfalls as they neared. You didn’t look up you didn’t need to, you knew they’d ignore you and you were fine with it. After a little bit, you couldn’t hear them anymore, getting sucked into your book you ignored the world around you, your mind falling into the faraway world of the book. 

“Hey, can I sit here?” You were startled when the voice harshly pulled you out from your head and back to the real world. Lifting your head from your book you looked up. He was standing there with a soft smile on his face. His friends were gone. 

Taeyong, Yuta, Johnny, they were always together, and you hated them all. You couldn’t help the words that fell out of your mouth.  

“Did your friends ditch you or something? Go find them to sit with.” You quickly turned your head back to your book staring at the words on the page, but he didn’t move and you couldn’t read. The words morphed together on the page as the seconds ticked by before you looked back up at him. A slow laugh floated out his lips as you met his eyes. 

“They did in fact leave me. They had a meeting for some class that they're in.” He was still smiling his smile more amused than before. 

“You still can’t sit here.” You replied. 

“Well,” He started and looked around, “I guess I’ll just sit over there then.” 

He moved about five steps to your right and dumped his bag down taking a seat beside it and pulling out his laptop. You frowned in his direction glaring at him slightly before returning to your book trying your best to read and ignore the imposing boy near you. 

You didn’t turn the page before he spoke again. 

“Do you have a pen I could borrow?” You glared at him again before rolling your eyes and digging into your bag to grab an extra pen. You lightly threw it in his direction before going back to reading. Or at least trying to. 

He cleared his throat again a couple of minutes later grabbing your attention, “Uh so do you have sticky notes?” You sighed deeply moving towards your backpack again to grab a pad of sticky notes and chucking it at him. The silence lasted about fifteen minutes before he spoke again. 

“Do you -”

“No.” 

         The next morning you didn’t leave your apartment, you didn’t want to your brain was too weighed down to move out of your bed. You wasted away the morning falling in and out of sleep. At two pm your mom called, you sighed answering the phone. Her cheery tone coming in through the speaker asking you how your day was. You lied telling her about how you had a good day, making your tone much happier than you felt. You told her a false story about how great you did on your quiz for the sports medicine class and she cheered for you telling you to keep up the great work. 

When she hung up you felt the tears prick at your eyes. Closing them as they stung you took large breaths to calm yourself down before forcing yourself out of bed. You dragged your feet into the bathroom and took a quick shower before getting dressed in warm layers of clothing and made you way out of your apartment. You made your way to the café two blocks away from your home. The warm ambiance of the café welcoming you in as you sniffled from the cold. 

“Hey, wow you come to this café too?” His voice slammed into you as your eyes widened. You looked to your left from where his voice came. Taeyong was sitting at a table with his laptop open in front of him, an empty coffee cup pushed away from him and a half-eaten piece of cake. 

“Looks like it.” You replied flatly before moving towards the line. Pulling your wallet out of your pocket you pulled out your card. You didn’t need to look at the menu you already knew what you wanted. 

“What are you gonna get?” He was behind you. 

“Didn’t you already order?” You asked in return glancing at him over your shoulder. 

“I – uh well, yeah.” You turned your head back towards the front. “But I wanted another drink.” 

You ignored him the rest of the time that you stood in line. When it was your turn you ordered a coffee and chocolate chip muffin. 

“Anything else?” The barista asked smiling at you. 

“Oh yeah, an iced americano as well please,” Taeyong said cutting you off before you could speak. The girl behind the counter didn’t bat an eye as she punched that in and then told you the total. You were staring at Taeyong with your mouth slightly open due to the shock that you felt. You narrowed your eyes at him and moved to pay, you were again cut off by him as he moved his card over the machine. 

“I got this.” He said and smiled at you. You didn’t smile back. 

“Well thank you I guess.” You said and moved out of the way so that the next person could order. 

The both of you stood beside each other silently as you waited for your order to be done, your drink came out first followed by your muffin. You moved to grab them but Taeyong scooped them up before you could. 

“Uh-”

“I’m just gonna take them to our table. Grab my drink when it gets out.” You scowled at his back as he turned away from you and went back to his seat. His drink came out not even seconds later. You thanked the barista and made your way over to his table. Putting his drink down in front of him you made to grab for your stuff and leave. 

“Whoa, where are you going?” He asked grabbing your wrist as you grabbed for the muffin. “I bought it, come on the least you can do is sit with me.” You stared at him for a second, finally properly looking at him. His big eyes were looking up at you expectantly, his lips formed into a small pout. You sighed and wiggled your wrist out of his. This was the hockey team’s captain? His pout gave way to a large smile as you took the seat from across him. He closed his laptop as you got comfortable in front of him. 

You took him in as you took a sip of your coffee, his dark hair was died a blue so dark you thought it was black, and his skin was smooth. It made you jealous just looking at him a hockey player had no business looking this…beautiful.

“You’re staring at me.” He said snapping you out of your daze. 

“Why am I sitting with you?” You asked in turn ignoring the fact that you had indeed been staring at him. 

“Why not?” He asked in turn, “It’s better than sitting alone isn’t it?” 

You stared at him again, he took a sip from his straw you watched as his throat worked, swallowing the drink. You didn’t say anything in reply. He was right it was better than sitting alone, but he and his friends were a reminder of what you had lost. 

The rest of your time was spent with him talking and asking you questions about your day, you told him the same story you told your mom. 

        The next day you had the sports medicine class again. Your alarm went off and today you got out of your bed not wanting to repeat yesterday. You dragged yourself up and got ready for the day. 

The class was the same as always, you not paying attention as the prof spoke about whatever topic. When the class ended you didn’t pack slowly, today you packed quickly to get out of the room before Taeyong decided he wanted to talk to you again. 

You rushed out of the classroom, and out the building, you were halfway down the stairs when your ankle rolled and you plummeted down the five stairs left. Your hand slammed into the ground hard and your foot ached. Luckily you didn’t slam your head into the ground. 

Groaning you moved slowly to get up, grabbing the railing you heaved yourself up by using the hand that hadn’t been hurt. You took large breaths as you finally came to stand. People around you ignored you walking by you as you clung to the railing trying to not cry at the pain. 

“Are you okay?” He was there staring down at you with a worried expression on his face. You couldn’t look at him for longer than a couple of seconds. Why was he all of a sudden everywhere? Why was he always around you? He didn’t even know you.  

He came down the steps taking in how you were standing, noticing the water gathering in your eyes. 

“Did you fall?” He asked. You only looked down letting your hair fall around your face. You didn’t need this from him. You didn’t need him to hound you, you didn’t need him to buy you coffee, you didn’t need him to sit with you in the library. You didn’t need his pity. 

“Leave me alone Taeyong.” He didn’t reply and you didn’t look up. But he didn’t move away from you. 

“Let me help you home.” You closed your eyes pain rolling up your foot as you put it flat on the ground. 

“I’m fine I can make it myself. Just – just go away.” You moved off the railing talking a slow and painful step away from him. You couldn’t help but limp. 

“You’re clearly not fine. Just let me help you.” He said grabbing your arm as you took another painfully slow step. 

“Look I don’t need your pity.” You snapped at him yanking your arm out of his hand. He was silent for a second before he laughed. Snapping your head towards him again you frowned. 

“You think I pity you?” Even though he laughed you could see that the statement bothered him. His eyes weren’t shining the way they always did when he spoke. “I don’t pity you Y/N. Some people can just be nice to others without having an underlying reason.” 

You still frowned at him, but you let him take your bag. You let him wrap his arm around your waist as you wrapped yours around his shoulder and you told him how to get to your apartment.

For the rest of the week, he checked on you, making sure your foot was getting better, taking you anywhere you wanted to go. He kept you company and for the first time in a long while you felt less lonely.      

        Loud knocks pulled you away from the Netflix show you were watching. You knew it was Taeyong, only because no one else came to your apartment.    

“You know I’m fine now. You don’t have to keep coming over.” You stated while pulling open the door. He laughed pushing past you. He put the takeout he brought onto your coffee table making himself comfortable on your couch. 

“Maybe I just like you.” He spoke. Your breath stopped for a second. Like you. You turned away from him to lock the door. You willed your face to calm down as you turned back around, not having anything to say back to what he said. You made your way back to the couch and sat beside him. He passed you cutlery as he unpacked the food. You tried not to stare at him as he sat across from you on the couch and ate. Periodically stealing a glance, you tried your best to not be obvious. Halfway through the show that you had started, you stole another glance at him, only to find him already looking at you. 

“You're cute you know that?” The words that he said didn’t register in your head. He leaned to the side of his hand getting closer to you. “The way you keep glancing at me thinking I’m not noticing.” Your breath hitched in your throat when he leaned further towards his other hand moving onto your thigh. 

“I’m going to kiss you Y/N.” His face a centimetre away from yours. You didn’t stop him. 

You didn’t stop him when that kiss turned from a simple kiss to something more. When his hands travelled under your shirt, into your pants. You didn’t stop when he guided your hand to him when he pushed himself into you. You didn’t stop yourself from letting his name roll off your tongue as the world split in two. You didn’t stop him when he pulled you close to him after whispering into your ear how perfect you were. 

“I like you Y/N.” He said again as you drifted off in his arms, your head pressed into his chest. You didn’t stop yourself when your heart melted at his words. When your brain said them back to him. But you stopped yourself when the words made their way to your lips. You stopped yourself then. 

You wanted to blame him still. You wanted to blame him and his friends still. But every day that he spoke to you, every day that he went out of his way to find you. You realized you couldn’t because he started coming with you to the library every Monday. He went to the café with you on Tuesday. On Wednesday he’d walk you home. On Thursday he’d bring over dinner to your apartment after his practice, and Friday to Saturday he was busy with hockey, so you didn’t see him. But each day that passed you realized he was not to blame, he was a kind-hearted boy who chose to see the good in the world, and for some reason, he was forcing his way into your life, into your heart. You found yourself looking forward to the moments that Taeyong would come and find you. To the moments where he would text you or call you at night to see how you were. He saw you, you realized, and he stayed. He stayed even though you were a mess. Even though you would snap at him, even though you didn’t deserve him. He stayed, he showed up. And slowly you were faced with the fact staring blankly in your face that you couldn’t blame anyone but yourself. Because despite everything you didn’t show up that day. 

“Come on Y/N, Yuta will be there, and he actually invited us himself,” Ara begged. You just shook your head at her. 

“I can’t today. I’m not feeling it.” You stayed seated on the couch as she tugged on your arm, a laugh erupting from you at her childish antics. 

“But you’re my best friend in the whole wide world I need you there with me!” Her expression was desperate, it made you laugh even more. 

“Sorry Ara, but I don’t feel like it. I’ll go next time though. If he invited, you once he’ll invite you again.” You reasoned. She stopped tugging on you and sighed obviously annoyed but letting you go. 

“Okay fine.” 

You passed out on the couch and woke hours later. Seven missed calls from Ara, and then a missed call from an unknown number only a couple of minutes ago. Confused you called Ara back, but she didn’t answer. Worry etched away at your stomach as you tried again, Again no answer. 

The unknown number called again. You gripped the counter to not fall over as shock ran through your body your mind being taken over by a loud ringing you couldn’t understand what the voice on the line was saying any more just that she was gone. 

You were pulled out of your head as your phone started to ring in your hand. Taeyong. You were sitting alone in your living room in the dark, your eyes glued to the phone as you tried to push away the dark thoughts that entered your head. The call ended the screen going black and a sense of urgency ripped through you a panic that rattled around your insides. Unlocking your phone quickly, you called him back. 

“Hey.” He chirped through the phone. 

“Are you okay?” It spilled out of your mouth before you could stop it. You sounded winded and frantic. 

“Yeah,” His word was slow, “Y/N are you okay?” he asked in turn. You froze. No. 

“Yes.” If you’d been awake and answered maybe she’d have answered just the way he did. 

But you let her die. You didn’t go with her. Then you fell asleep and didn’t answer her call. She got into the car with a drunk idiot and died. You could have stopped it. If you had answered right away maybe she would have replied just like he did. With a happy ‘hey.’ 

“Y/N?” His voice tugged at you again, pulling you back to him and away from your own mind. “Are you there?” 

“Yes, what did you say?” 

“Did you wanna come out for a drink with me and the guys?” 

“Yes.” 

        You didn’t understand why he was being so kind. You hadn’t done anything to deserve the kindness that he was just giving you. He was making sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable with his friends. In the time that you two had been hanging out he’d learned so much about you and you were realizing it only just today. He knew what drink you wanted and had it for you before you even got there. He let you sit on the outside of the bench in the booth because he knew you’d hate it on the inside. He gathered so much information about you in the time and you knew what? Nothing.  

“So, you’re the girl that’s been keeping our captain busy for the past month and a half.” Johnny teased you once everyone had settled into their spots. You smiled at him red painting your cheeks. Taeyong pulled you into his side shooting Johnny a warning glare that you noticed. 

You sat with them as they spoke about their upcoming game schedule. As they commented on the games that appeared on the screens all around the bar. You spoke only when they asked you a question or when you had a question yourself. You’d direct it to Taeyong, and he’d answer back softly explaining whatever thing you’d asked him about the sport he played. Slowly it became too much, you looked at the boys around you at the table, at their laughing faces and you realized you didn’t fit in here. You didn’t fit into his world. You didn’t fit into anyone’s world, you barely fit into your own. You didn’t deserve to sit at this table, not with the laughter that floated around you. You couldn’t help but feel that there was a laugh missing. This was what Ara had wanted so bad. To sit at a table with them. to sit next to the boy sitting right in front of you, she’d wanted to be tucked under his arm just as you were tucked under Taeyong’s. 

“I have to go.” You said and abruptly got up, shocking them into an abrupt silence as you ran out the bar and down the street. Tears began to run down your cheeks, and you tried to get far away from them, far away from him. 

“Y/N!” You didn’t look back, but you knew he was following you; you couldn’t take it. You didn’t deserve to sit with them, you didn’t deserve to be with him. Not when this was what she’d wanted. Not when she should have been here with you. With them. 

He caught your wrist spinning you around to face him, but you didn’t look at him, you turned your head to the side biting your lip as tears ran down your face still. 

“Let me go Taeyong.” You said your voice small and shaking. His grip on your wrist only tightened. 

“No.” 

A sob threatened to rip out your mouth. You closed your eyes and took in slow breaths. 

“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” He said and pulled you closer to him. 

“I – I can’t -” It was getting hard to breathe as you buried your head into his chest. He wrapped his arm around you holding you tight as you silently cried. Pulling away only slightly when you calmed down a little bit, he looked at your red face. Your eyes were swollen and your lips cracked. You looked like a mess, runny nose and all. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.” He spoke. You stared back up at him, you took in the way his gentle eyes looked at you the way his hair blew in the autumn wind, the way his ears were tinted red from the cold. You couldn’t help yourself you pushed up on your feet and pressed your lips against his. He instantly replied, his mouth moving against yours. His hands tightening on the fabric of your jacket. You kissed him until you couldn’t breathe again until every breathe you had felt like his. Until you couldn’t take anymore. You didn’t deserve him. 

Pulling away from him you pushed him away from you. 

“I can’t do this. I can’t -” You couldn’t finish your sentence. You ran away from him again. He yelled your name again into the night air, but you didn’t look back didn’t look to see if he was following. You ran, ran until your lungs were gasping for breath until your throat was so dry that you couldn’t swallow your own spit. Until your legs gave out and you fell onto the grass gasping for air. 

This was how your life had been, this is what you deserved.

        The following week you didn’t go to school, you didn’t answer any of his calls. He came to your door every day and you ignored him. You barely ate and slept. You didn’t even make it to the shower most days. I deserve this. You’d tell yourself over and over in your head. Until there were no other thoughts but those three words drowning you. 

It was Monday, and he’d had enough. You could tell because the banging at your door was so loud that you could feel it in your head. You’d just gotten out of the shower and had gotten back into bed. Pulling the covers over your head. Slowly you got out of bed and made your way to the door. He wasn’t going to leave today. You could tell. You opened the locks and then the door. 

The lights in the hallway were so bright they made him look ethereal. He was in a black bomber jacket paired with jeans. His nose and ears were red from the cold again. You squinted up at him. You watched his pained eyes take you in, the dark circles under your eyes the way you looked small. 

“Go away.” You said, not being able to look at him any longer, not being able to stand the emotions in his eyes. He caught the door as you closed it, he pushed back against it opening it and moving in past you. 

“Stop ignoring me.” He said and closed the door. He reached for you, his hand grabbing air as you stepped far out of his reach. 

 “Did I do something wrong?” His face breaking as he asked you. Your eyes widened at him and your heart cracked more than it already had. 

“No.” 

“Then why?” You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t say anything. He took a step towards you and you moved back again. “Why?” His voice was small, pleading with you. You closed your eyes as tears gathered again. 

“I don’t deserve you okay?” Your voice harsh. You didn’t look at him as tears spilled down your cheeks, you turned your head down letting your hair cover your face. Opening your eyes, you watched as your tears hit the hardwood floor of your living room. 

“I don’t deserve anything. She died because I couldn’t help her.” Your vision blurred more and more, as you spoke. You felt him take a step towards you and you took another back. “I’ll just ruin you.” 

“Ara?” He asked. Your head snapped up to him, his eyes were tearing up as well as he looked at you. You were shocked that her name came out of his mouth. You put your hand over your mouth as a sob tore from you. He took another step towards you, and you took one back hitting the wall behind you. Finally, he had his arms around you, he pulled you into his chest. 

“That wasn’t your fault.” He spoke. “That was on the guy who lied to her and told her he didn’t drink. That was on the guy who let her get into his car.” You sobbed into his chest as he spoke. “I know about her Y/N I was at that party. Yuta was wreaked for weeks after that. But it isn’t his fault. It’s most certainly not your fault. I didn’t realize that you were her best friend until Yuta told me after he met you at the bar.” You only sobbed harder into his chest. 

“I can’t change your mind baby; I can just tell you that you deserve happiness. You deserve good things in your life. I didn’t know Ara, but I do know that she'd hate to see you like this.” His hand moved from the back of your head to the side of your face, pulling your face up to look into his eyes. 

“If anything, babe I don’t deserve you.” He said, more tears slipped down your face. He was perfect. That was the only thing your brain could think as you looked up at him. His warm hand on your cheek, his arm wrapped around you. The warmth of his body against yours. Everything about him. He was perfect. 

He put his forehead against yours, your breathing turning into his as your breathing became shallow. His mouth inches away from your own, your hand knotting into the front of his t-shirt you pulled yourself up, closing the small gap between you and him. His mouth was warm and careful. He was going slow, afraid you’d scare away. But you weren’t going to. You may not be okay yet, but you weren’t gonna get better without him. You needed him. You wanted him. He was your cure. You’d get better for him, with him. 

Ara’s mother told you the day of her funeral that people never truly leave us, they come back to watch over us. You full-heartedly believed that this had Ara written all over it. Taeyong randomly showing up to sit by you in the library, at the café, helping you when you got hurt, calling you at the right time all the time, cheering you up before you could even get down, moving his way into your life. This had the scheming hand of your best friend all over it. 

You deepened the kiss leaning into the wall, pulling him with you. His hand moved under your shirt pulling it up over your head, only leaving your mouth for that one second to get it over your head. 

Somehow the two of you were in your bed, all your clothes gone, his mouth was moving down your neck leaving small marks down your throat on your collarbone to the swell of your breasts. With each bite a small moan left you, each kiss took your breath away. His mouth closed around the hard nub of your nipple pulling on it gently with his teeth, drawing his name from your mouth. His head moved lower, lower until you couldn’t take it anymore. Pulling him back up to you, you pressed your mouth against his, his tongue finding his way to yours instantly. 

“I need you now.” You said, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. He looked down at you with so much emotion in his eyes, so much care you almost melted from just his gaze. “Please.” With that, he pressed his mouth back to yours lining himself up at your entrance. His lips moved against yours as he pushed in, swallowing your moan as he filled you. 

You moaned, your mouth leaving his as his hips moved against yours. Only the sounds of moans and your skin against his filing up your small room. 

He pressed his forehead against yours, “Look at me, babe.” You opened your eyes and held his gaze your back arched as the world faded to a bright white, his name rolling off your tongue as he nipped at your bottom lip. His thrusts became rushed as he soon followed moaning into your neck, before relaxing on top of you. You kissed him again as you both calmed down. 

After some time, he pulled out, laying beside you and pulling you into his chest. He kissed the top of your head as you started to drift off. 

“I love you Y/N.” This time you didn’t stop yourself. 

“I love you too Taeyong.” 

A/N: The next part will be Yuta’s I’m going to make this a three part trilogy! Please let me know your thoughts, it means a lot to hear what you guy think!

[verdantmoontruther]

thought i should do one of these to welcome you to my naruto hell

Favorite male character: gai

Favorite female character: tsunade

Second and third favorite male character: shino and sai

Second and third favorite female character: tenten and kurenai

Favorite and second favorite clan: aburame and uzumaki

Favorite kage: gaara

Favorite Hokage: tobirama

Least favorite Hokage: sarutobi hiruzen (kys old fart <3)

Favorite tailed beast: matatabi

Favorite canon couple(s): inosai and naruhina

Favorite almost canon couple(s): sasukarin and leeten

Worst canon couple: sasusaku

Least favorite fanon couple(s): narusaku, sns, sakuino, sasodei, kakuhidan

Favorite yaoi couple(s): kakairu or yamairu

Favorite yuri couple(s): i once saw kurenai x mei and haven’t slept soundly since

Couple(s) that you ship romantically and as friends: kakagai, naruino, sasusai (now hear me out on this one)

Favorite protagonist: tsunade

Favorite antagonist: haku and zabuza

Favorite Akatsuki member: kisame

Favorite Akatsuki couple: sasori and deidara (not romantically, i just like when they argue)

Which character do you think deserves more appreciation: shino, kankuro, fuu, and tenten out of the younger generation (i don’t watch or read boruto). anko, kurenai, and genma from the middle generation. maito dai from the older generation

Which character do you think deserves less appreciation: sakura (annoying and i don’t like her but im too tired to go into that rn), itachi (idc who told him to, mans still killed his entire clan and tortured his younger brother several times), and sasuke (you all appreciate him for the wrong reasons!!!! love him for being a revolutionary, not for rejecting his ideology in the end)

Which character(s) didn’t deserve to die: neji, haku, and zabuza (he should’ve lived to see his country be given stability under mei, he deserved it, argue with the wall)

Who do you ship Naruto with: hinata mostly but a small part of my brain screams ino

Which character do you think looks good with everybody: sasuke

Which character out of Teams 7(don’t forget Sai),8,10, Gai would join the Akatsuki: depends what akatsuki we’re talking about! original akatsuki whose goal was world peace through diplomacy? choji, lee, naruto, kakashi, gai, hinata. the akatsuki the characters actually interact with? neji, asuma, tenten.

Hottest female character: tenten or kurenai

Hottest male character: DON’T FLAME ME FOR THIS BUT KAKUZU LMAOOOO

Would you eat Ramen: yeah

Pro-ending or anti-ending: pro

How would your version of Naruto ending and Boruto play out (don’t be shy, make it VERY LONG, out touch the smallest details):

1. neji would live because hiashi sacrificed himself in place of his children. i dont really have anything further planned for him in my head but rest assured that he is alive.

2. konoha involves itself in inter-clan business and makes it a criminal offense for hyuuga main branch members to torture the side branch members. no new seals are placed.

3. boruto is not named boruto because what a weird fucking name, no thanks!

4. the truth about both the uchiha massacre and the destruction of uzushiogakure and konoha’s roles in them are revealed to the public.

5. the villagers and ordinary shinobi play a more active role in the running of the village and it moves away from bureaucracy and to tobirama’s original vision of a democracy. the hokage is actually elected, rather than proposed by officials to the daimyo and that’s that.

6. academy starts at age 8 or 10 and finishes at a soft 16 - if a student is particularly gifted, the lowest age they can graduate at is 14.

7. we actually get a scene between naruto and karin where they acknowledge and talk about their shared roots.

8. no sasusaku i’m sorry i just really hate it. sorry sarada. i think sasuke should be allowed to stay single.

9. more children!!! more babies!!!!!!! naruto and hinata have about 4, ino and sai have 2, karui and choji have 3. stop the population from dwindling

10. i actually like the fact that hinata and choji are like retired from the shinobi industry, i dont think they actually ever really wanted to be parts of it. but hinata plays an active role in the improvement of hyuuga intra-clan rapports, even if she’s not clan head.

11. i’d have killed off iruka and kiba but that’s just me. not because i hate them (i love iruka to the moon and back) but i think their deaths would’ve been realistic and meaningful (and also hurt a lot - can you imagine naruto’s reaction to iruka’s death, or kiba dying and leaving akamaru? pain)

12. naruto doesn’t become hokage. he’s a jounin-sensei :D

13. the older generation pairs off as well!! my heart goes soft for gai and anko, i think maybe they have a kid together

14. none of the electronic advancement you see in boruto. i want my bitches to continue suffering

15. orochimaru is either in prison or executed. in either case anko, yamato, and the other people they hurt get justice.

16. choza dies alongside shikaku and inoichi (again, not because i don’t like him), even if he isn’t at hq

17. no fucking rabbit goddess jesus fuck that storyline just about took me out lmao

[ssahoodrathotchner]

There is a Light That Never Goes Out

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: you get kidnapped by an unsub and needless to say, it’s not fun

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: swearing, blood, injuries, stabbing, panic attacks, kidnapping, hospitals, angst and fluff

A/N: wanted to write something angsty with a happy ending and here we are! the longest thing i’ve ever written

Masterlist

---

In hindsight, things could have gone better. The case itself was pretty straightforward, with the biggest complication being where the hell Michael Robertson was hidden away. However, no man can hide from Penelope Garcia and within six hours of figuring out Robertson was the unsub, she had his location narrowed down to a small farm in the middle of nowhere. Of course, you thought, where else would a guy like him torture and kill seven women.

Pulling up to the seemingly small farmhouse, you and Reid exchange looks before tightening your bulletproof vests. Double—triple—checking your gun, you tune in to Hotch and Rossi giving directions to the team and local PD about breaching the home. Hotch and Prentiss will take the front door, Morgan and Reid the back, while Rossi and JJ have the barn—you’ll take the side door and meet in the middle, easy. Local PD will secure the perimeter and provide backup as needed. Giving Hotch a reaffirming nod, you disperse to your entry points.

Taking a deep breath, you raise your weapon and prepare to bust this door down in hopes that Robertson will surrender peacefully and you can all go home because fuck do you want to get out of Iowa. Hearing Hotch’s signal, you kick down the door in front of you—a welcome plus of your job—and announce your presence. However, you’re met with a hard elbow to the face. Reeling backwards and tasting blood, you only have the sense to cup your now bleeding—and most likely broken—nose with your free hand.

“Motherfucker,” you spit out in pain, the comms in your vest picking up your voice.

“Y/L/N, report,” Hotch demands, voice scratchy through your earpiece.

However, you are unable to respond as Robertson moves towards you and, taking advantage of your dazed state, hits you over the head with a fucking two-by-four once, twice, nope three times before the jagged wood floor is rushing up to meet you as you collapse into darkness. Oh, fuck. You’re out before you hit the ground.

---

As soon as Aaron hears you swear, he knows it’s bad, but one look at Emily has him forging ahead and clearing each room like he is supposed to. Checking in with the other duos, Hotch can’t help but worry when you don’t respond immediately. When he finally gets to the mid-point of the house and the exact spot where you were supposed to rendezvous with him, Emily, Derek, and Spencer, his worries spike exponentially.

“Where’s Y/L/N,” he spits out.

“We didn’t see her,” Morgan answers carefully. “We assumed she found you guys,” he adds, and Hotch grits his teeth.

“Clear in the barn,” he hears Rossi report, and he sighs.

“Y/L/N is missing,” he says, surprisingly calm. “Report to the house.”

Police officers shuffle through the house, and Aaron tries not to let his irritation show. Turning back to the team, he can’t help but notice how worried the rest of them are.

“Our one and only priority is finding Y/N,” he states.

“I’ll get Garcia onboard to coordinate what happens next,” Morgan says, excusing himself from the tension of the farm house sitting room. “Expect some very distressed calls in your futures,” he finishes with a shake of his head.

“Emily and I will re-check the rest of the house, just in case,” JJ supplies, and Hotch nods. Reid, looking uneasy, makes some excuse about double-checking the floor plans of the property before skirting out the door, leaving Dave and Aaron—and some police officers—to survey the bland artwork on the walls.

Grasping the bridge of his nose, Aaron tries to take a deep breath, but he can’t; not with you missing on the property owned by an unsub fucking known for mutilating women.

“Hey,” Rossi approaches from Hotch’s left. “We’ll figure this out. Y/L/N’s a smart girl; she won’t go down easy,”

Hotch can only hope that Rossi’s right, but he trusts you; trusts your instincts as an agent.

---

You come to in bits and pieces. Some part of your brain recognizes that you’re being dragged by your armpits down some rickety stairs and deep into the earth; another part recognizes that your hands are free, which means your gun is no longer in your grasp. Fuck fuck fuck. A particularly harsh blow to your head from the hands of your captor stops any further thoughts. Fuck you, Robertson.

---

Regrouping with the team outside the house, Hotch starts to get agitated.

“What do you mean there’s an elaborate tunnel system beneath the house, Garcia,” he almost yells. “How did you not catch this before.”

“Well,” Reid steps in, “the only plans that include this system are dated between 1910 and 1924 which means that they were built in at least the 1900s and the fact that they do not appear in any property plans since those dates suggests that the subsequent owners either didn’t know about the tunnels, or they actively chose to not include them for some reason which—”

“—which means that we don’t really have a clue as to what the current tunnels look like,” Morgan finishes for him, and Hotch internally blanches.

No, he thinks to himself. I will not lose her like this, not after Haley.

Taking a deep breath, Hotch tries to re-assess the situation, but finds himself unable to breathe deeply. At all. Gasping, he tries to communicate to the team the severity of their situation, but all that comes out is a strangled noise. Vaguely, he hears Morgan clear the room as JJ gently takes his upper arm and steers him out the back door of the house on to the porch.

“Hotch,” he can’t stand to listen to her voice; her calm demeanor only increasing his anxiety about your current situation.

“Hotch,” JJ tries again, harsher this time. “I need you to take a breath; only one, just now, that’s it.”

I can do that, he thinks. And he does; he takes one solitary breath.

“Good,” she encourages, “now do it again, just once.” And so he does, again, and again, for JJ.

Once his breathing is under control and JJ steps back with an appraising eye, he speaks.

“We need to find her,” he gasps out. “We have to; I can’t—” he trails off.

With a softness he has yet to comprehend, JJ looks into his eyes and sighs.

“We’ll find her, Hotch,” she reassures him. “She’s on the property, she has to be, and we’ll find her.”

With a shaky nod, Hotch allows JJ’s words to take hold of him, and he goes back to being the BAU’s Unit Chief. Gazing out on the field behind the house, his resolve is firm; Aaron Hotchner will find you, Michael Robertson be damned.

---

The next moment you remember—thanks broken nose and probable concussion—is your body being roughly thrown into a plastic chair, sans bullet-proof vest, and then your arms and legs being tightly tied down. A rag of some sort is crudely stuffed into your mouth, and you can’t help but gag because fuck does it do nothing to replace the gross taste of blood in your mouth. At least it’s me, you think to yourself, I’d hate to think of anyone else from the team in this position. And with that thought, you drift out of consciousness with Aaron’s face in the forefront of your addled mind. Love, I hope you find me soon.

---

It’s been three hours and Aaron Hotchner is losing his mind. Garcia, to her credit, is working furiously to uncover literally everything she can on Robertson, his family, friends as well as the closest neighboring farms to the one the BAU is currently ripping apart. Prentiss and Morgan have taken to meticulously going through each and every room of the house and barn in hopes of discovering some new and hidden passageway to the tunnel system that resides under the structure. Reid is creating an enhanced geographical profile of the property and those that encompass it, while JJ and Rossi discuss the nuances of Robertson’s profile somewhere with the local cops. Aaron, however, can only seem to scowl at the field of corn behind the house and remember the last moments he had with you before you disappeared.

“Hotch,” he turns when he hears Morgan’s voice. “We’ve got something.”

Heart racing, Hotch nods and follows Morgan out the side door—the one you entered—before stopping just short of the man in front of him.

“Local crime scene techs just confirmed that there’s blood here, and judging from the placement of the drops, it seems that Robertson got the drop on Y/L/N,” he states with a grimace, and Hotch can’t help but scrutinize the ground where your blood has fallen.

“Reid’s got a better handle on what might have happened, but I thought you’d like to see it for yourself,” Morgan finishes, and Hotch nods tightly before moving off in search of Reid. Finding the young profiler in the front room of the farm house, Hotch only has to look at him before he’s revealing all that he’s learned since your disappearance.

“It seems that the blueprints for the house were updated once since the 1920s, which was in 1953, so that’s our most recent map of what the whole underside of the property looks like,” Reid continues. “From what I can tell, there are at least five entrance points, three main walkways, and eight different chambers that appear to function as some form of bunker for the previous owners, and so my guess is that Y/N is being kept in one of the rooms, just like the previous victims most likely were,” Reid pauses. “Not that Y/N will become another victim, I’m just saying that for the sake of the case it appears that—” Emily enters the room and Hotch has never been so grateful for her presence in a room, ever.

“Hey, I don’t mean to disrupt Reid’s briefing, but local PD has found a possible way into the fuckin’ labyrinth out in the barn,” she states, curiously looking over at the map Reid has scribbled onto the property blueprints.

Turning his head sharply, Hotch nods at Prentiss and uncrosses his arms as she leads him out of the farm house as Reid continues to ponder the blueprints in front of him.

---

The next time you rise to consciousness, Robertson is dragging an ugly hunting knife across your collarbones, shoulder to shoulder, and cooing at you to wake up. Weirdo.

“Ah, there you are baby,” Robertson says sweetly. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t wake up for me.”

You let out a groan and through the gag in your mouth—holy fuck does it taste like dirty socks—you attempt to cuss out your captor.

“Now, now, Sweetness,” Robertson chides. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?” and with that terrifying statement, he leans closer to you and pulls the knife across your left shoulder, effectively slicing open your work shirt. Damn, you think to yourself, this was actually one of my favorites. But that’s the last coherent thought you produce because the combination of Robertson’s knife, the searing pain of your broken nose, and your own possibly concussed brain are unable to completely comprehend any more information as the man in question leaves light slices across your upper chest. Thankfully, the rag—sock? —in your mouth muffles your whimpers as you jolt in pain. Aaron, please find me soon you think before the feeling is all-encompassing and your mind shifts to merciful blankness.

---

“I wish I could do more,” Garcia states, but Hotch can only sigh in agreement.

“You’ve done well, Garcia. Let me know if you find anything else,” Hotch states, eyes darting over to the geographical profile Reid is standing in front of, conversing with Emily. The tunnel found by local PD had been a decoy, and they were no closer to finding you.

“Of course, Sir. I’m on it like Sergio on tuna. Garcia out,” and with that statement, the line goes dead.

Putting his phone in his pocket, Hotch walks towards Reid and Prentiss with purpose.

“Reid, have you found anything else about the tunnel system?”

“It appears that there are a series of false entrances that don’t actually connect with the full network of passageways,” Reid states gesturing wildly at the map. “The full system can only be accessed from four different vantage points, but given that this map hasn’t been updated since the 50s, I only have a general idea of where the entryways are given that the buildings on the property have shifted since the last accurate map was compiled.”

“The good news is that two of the entrances seem to be contained within this house, the bad news is that they may have been bricked over by renovations to the building,” Prentiss says with a grimace. “The other two entries are somewhere out in what’s now the fields, so we’ll have less luck finding them, even with all the extra help from the PD.”

Hotch’s shoulders sag under the weight of the new information and he frowns at the agents in front of him. Squinting hard at the blueprints haphazardly tacked to the board in front of him, Hotch tries to make sense of the possible entry points in the house he’s currently standing in.

“Get Morgan in here,” Hotch finally says. “He’s got experience with restoration work and may have a better idea on where the unsub could have taken Y/N from within the house given the structural changes.” And with that, Hotch strides out the front door of the house and leans on the porch railing. Y/N, I’m coming for you, just hold on a little longer.

---

Robertson is a bitch. And he has the knife to prove it.

“So, you’re impotent, that’s why you’re using such a big knife, right?” you taunt him after who knows how fuckin’ long. “You see, we thought you had, mmm, issues, but we didn’t know for sure; this just confirms it.”

He took the gag out of your mouth to hear you scream, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of doing so. However, instead of responding to your jabs, Robertson just drives the knife a little bit deeper into your torso and you let out a hiss in retaliation, throwing your head back.

“God, you sure know how to treat a girl, don’t ya?” you grit out between pained breaths. “No wonder a charmer like you had so many lady friends.”

“They didn’t appreciate me!” Robertson yells. “Just like you don’t appreciate me!”

The next slash glances off your ribs and yikes does it fuckin’ hurt. Jerking away as best you can, you contemplate your options. At this point, you know your only way out is to either escape—as if—or to make Robertson see some semblance of reason. Otherwise, you aren’t going to make it out of here alive. Fuck, you think, I’m so sorry, Aaron. I promise I’ll find you. Or you’ll find me. A particularly vicious cut to your cheekbone draws you back to reality, and once again, you are only able to focus on the pain and Robertson’s maniacal laughter. Creepy motherfucker.

---

Hotch has never seen Morgan so focused. Scouring the blueprints with Reid and Prentiss, Garcia on speakerphone, Morgan works to figure out where the hell Robertson could have disappeared to inside the house. With you. Hotch has taken to pacing the length of the house in order to keep his nerves and his temper somewhat under control; he needs to be alert and ready to get to you as soon as possible. Running a hand through his hair and over his face, Hotch sighs which draws the attention of Rossi and JJ who slowly drift over to him from their place by a window.

“Hotch—” JJ starts but is cut off by a hard look.

“We’ll find her, Aaron.” Rossi tries. “You know that she’s here somewhere, probably giving Robertson all sorts of hell.”

“We’ve seen what Robertson does to his victims, Dave,” Hotch retorts. “He basically slices women to pieces and beats them,” taking a breath, he tries to calm himself. “We need to find her alive,” he finishes softly.

JJ and Rossi share a concerned look before Rossi sighs and steps forward to place a hand on Hotch’s shoulder.

“We’ll find her. There’s no way—” he’s cut off by an excited yell and the three of them swing around towards the source of the noise which happens to be Prentiss.

Morgan’s already moving, stalking into another room and Reid, accompanied by Garcia on the phone, hurries to catch up.

“We found the door Robertson most likely used to take Y/L/N and we’re pretty sure it connects to the full system under the property,” Prentiss explains and that’s all it takes for Hotch to stride off after Morgan and Reid.

Head spinning, Aaron fluctuates between hope and hopelessness. He knows they’ll find you; Robertson can’t hide in the tunnel system, no matter how well he knows them, but he’s most worried about you. We’re coming for you, Y/N. I won’t let this bastard get away with this.

---

Your whole body fucking hurts and you’re pretty sure it’s not just because you started off your captivity with a broken nose and concussion. Your mouth tastes like blood again from how hard you’ve clamped down on your bottom lip to resist screaming as loud as you can. Robertson is cruel, there’s no question about that. You’d seen the photos of his other victims, and now you were undergoing the same things those women did in their last moments. Your entire body feels heavy, and if you weren’t tied down to a chair, you don’t think you’d be able to hold yourself up. Between the blood loss and head trauma, you’re surprised your thoughts are still relatively coherent.

Robertson is pacing in front of you, muttering to himself, shooting looks your way, and absentmindedly gesturing with the knife in his hand. Fantastic, you think hazily, he’s most likely devolving and I’m the only one around. Yay. Sucking in a breath, you wince as the action reignites a dizzying pain in your torso. Letting out a groan, you flinch as Robertson turns towards you, eyes shining with something that makes your heart race a little quicker. 


“Now, baby,” he states with a twisted grin—grimace? —that makes you grit your teeth even harder. “I’m not done with you yet, don’t worry. I still wanna hear you scream for me.”

Here we go again.

“Do your worst,” you snarl at him, and while that’s probably the worst thing to say to a devolving unsub, you’re too fed up and tired to care at this point; you can take it, you have to take it so you can survive. C’mon, Aaron. Where’s my knight in shining armor? Robertson descends on you with renewed vigor, and after the fourth slice to your leg, your ears rush and your head drops to your chest as you pass out. Fuck.

---

The trap door Robertson dragged you down can only be accessed by sliding one of the wooden floorboards back half an inch before it clicks into place and the adjoining boards lift slightly, revealing the way into the tunnels. How Morgan, Reid, and Prentiss figured that out is beyond Hotch’s current thought process because how many times had he paced over that exact spot? As soon as the hatch is lifted, all he sees is blood—your blood—sprinkled on the steps that descend into the darkened passageway. He takes a sharp breath and somewhere behind him, he can hear JJ gasp and Morgan swear.

“Medics are on stand-by,” comes Rossi’s voice from his shoulder.

Nodding tersely and setting his shoulders, he turns to the team.

“Stay alert and stick together. We don’t know where Robertson is, so clear the rooms and move on.” His voice is hard and leaves no room for debate.

“Let’s go get our girl,” Morgan adds, and with that, the team takes careful steps down into the hallway, following Aaron.

---

The first room they happen across is empty, as are the second, third, and fourth rooms. Forging ahead, knowing that they’re only closer to where you are, they continue. Turning a corner, Hotch can hear movement and his heart speeds up. Robertson. Signaling to the team to pause, he gauges the best course of action. He doesn’t know what state you’re in, or Robertson for that matter, and so he has to approach the situation with caution. Gun in hand and stepping to one side of the door, he lets Morgan and Prentiss move to the other. Backed by JJ, Reid, and Rossi, Hotch nods and Morgan kicks down the door before moving quickly inside, yelling at Robertson. Prentiss follows him and then Hotch steps through and freezes.

Robertson is crouched over your crumpled and bloody body looking wild-eyed at the agents in front of him. Hotch can’t breathe. You aren’t moving.

“She’s mine,” Robertson snarls, brandishing a knife at Morgan as he tries to get closer. “Mine!”

“Okay, Michael,” says Rossi calmly, “Let’s figure this out.”

“No. She’s mine! I’m not done,” Robertson’s reply is harsh, bordering on a yell.

“What do you mean you aren’t done, Michael?” Hotch’s voice is cold and flat. What more could Robertson possibly want?

“She didn’t scream! I need her to scream for me!” and with that, Robertson runs the tip of his blade down your already bloody cheek.

The team is stunned, but then Robertson raises the knife in the air over your chest and—

He falls.

Looking slowly to the right, Hotch sees Prentiss, gun raised, and then to Robertson splayed on the ground, blood pooling under his head. Vaguely, Hotch hears Reid calling for medics and alerting the local officers to what just happened. Morgan’s already at your side, turning you slowly, carefully, gently on to your back, and that’s when Hotch rushes to you, gun holstered.

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. There’s blood everywhere. Aaron can’t tell if you’re breathing. He chokes back a sob. I’m so sorry, Sweetheart.

“Hotch, she’s alive,” Morgan breathes, and with that, Hotch lets out a sigh of relief and allows himself to fully look at you, blinking a few times to rid his eyes of tears.

Your face is littered with shallow cuts. Your nose is bloody—definitely broken—and there’s already bruising around your eyes. Your shirt is torn and bloodied in so many places, as are your pants. He can see blood leaking slowly multiple places on your thighs, and even more from your arms and midsection. Your eyes are closed.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Hotch presses down on one of the lacerations to your torso, Morgan taking another, and JJ appearing to apply pressure on a cut that’s just a little too close to your femoral artery.

“C’mon, Sweetheart,” his voice shakes. “I need you to open your eyes, Y/N. Have to know you’re okay.”

There’s yelling from down the hallway, medics bustling into the room and taking over. Aaron can’t make himself let go of you, and it takes Rossi’s gentle but firm hand to guide him back and away from you. He can’t stop shaking.

---

You wake, briefly, when you feel yourself being lifted. Squinting, you try to turn your head, as the rest of the world comes crashing back in a wave of sound and movement. Vision blurred, you try and make sense of what’s going on around you.

“She’s awake!” calls a voice from your left, and you can make out the outline of… JJ? They’re here.

You’re shifted around more, and you get the idea that you’re being strapped down to a gurney as medics begin to wheel you out of the hellhole where Robertson held you.

Suddenly, there’s a hand grasping yours, and before your mind can comprehend what’s happening, all you hear is—

“Sweetheart…?” in the most relieved, reverent, adoring, tone you think you’ve ever heard in your life and it’s Aaron holding your hand. He’s here he’s here he’s here. He found me.

“Aaron,” his name leaves you in a sigh. “Y’found me,” you say softly, looking him over.

“Of course, I did, Sweetheart,” he says, just as soft.

“Where’s…?” you don’t want to say his name.

“Dead. Emily shot him,” Aaron answers in a low voice. Good fucking riddance.

You hum and ease back as the gurney jostles you particularly hard. Gritting your teeth, you groan as you head starts to pound even harder. Feeling yourself losing consciousness, you squeeze Aaron’s hand.

“Love you,” and before he can respond, you vision goes black and all is quiet once more.

---

After you get loaded into the nearest ambulance and speed towards the hospital, Rossi confirms that local officers have secured the scene. With not a moment to waste, the team takes off after the ambulance. Morgan calls Garcia to update her on your status and spends a majority of the ride to the hospital convincing her that she doesn’t need to fly over to see you. Hotch stares blankly out the window and replays the entire interaction with Robertson. He saw the damage Robertson did to you—I need her to scream—and can’t help but feel a little bit of pride at the fact that you didn’t give in to Robertson despite the obvious pain you endured.

The SUVs pull up to the hospital, screeching to a halt, before all the doors are thrown open and the team hurries into the lobby. The nurse at the desk looks up to find six disheveled agents crowding around the counter, worry across all of their faces.

“We’re here for Agent Y/L/N, she probably arrived twenty minutes ago,” Hotch states, voice surprisingly calm.

“I can confirm she arrived and that she’s currently being attended to, but I don’t know any more than that at this moment,” the nurse replies, looking at the computer screen.

“Do you know if she’ll be okay?” asks Spencer in a subdued voice.

“The severity of her injuries is yet to be determined, I’m afraid. She has obvious head trauma, numerous lacerations, and possible internal bleeding, but until I get another update, that’s all I can share,” the nurse says with a sad smile.

Nodding, Aaron steps away from the counter. C’mon, Sweetheart.

“Thank you,” comes Rossi’s voice from Hotch’s left, and with that, the team migrates to the largest cluster of chairs where they promptly collapse in exhaustion.

Sitting down heavily, Hotch rests his elbows on his knees and runs a hand over his face. Prentiss drops in to the chair on his left, Rossi settles in on his right. Across from them, Reid and JJ sit on either side of Morgan. Looking down at his hands, Aaron realizes that they still have your blood on them. He glares at them, somehow wishing that if he stares hard enough, it’ll vanish on its own. A hand closes around one of his, and he looks at Emily.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” she says softly, then, louder, “You guys too, Morgan and JJ. Let’s go.”

It’s then that Aaron looks—really looks—and sees that like him, Morgan and JJ have your blood on their hands as well. With a nod, they all stand. Morgan and Hotch walking into the men’s room while Emily follows JJ to keep her company. Mechanically, the two men stand side-by-side and turn on the taps, starting the slow process of washing away the blood that’s dried on them. Glancing to the side, Hotch sees Morgan, brow furrowed in concentration, as he scrubs under his nails.

“Thank you,” he says, stopping his own motions to fully look at Derek, who turns at the sound of his voice.

“For what?” Morgan asks, slightly confused.

“For going over the blueprints with Reid, Prentiss, and Garcia. For figuring out where in the house Y/N had disappeared. For going above and beyond to find her and— “

“Hotch, you don’t have to thank me for that,” Morgan cuts him off. “I will do everything in my power to make sure this team is okay, you know that,” and with a small grin, he adds “I’m just happy that one of my hobbies was useful for the case.”

Hotch can’t help but smile a little in return, and with that, they go back to washing their hands in a more comfortable silence.

---

Walking back into the waiting area, Hotch is confronted with the sight of Reid and Rossi surrounded by a pile of snacks from one of the vending machines. He pauses for a second, shakes his head, and then continues back to the chair he was sitting in earlier. Once he’s seated, Reid tosses him a bag of something—chips? —which he dutifully opens under the watchful eye of Rossi. Morgan snags his own snack and then leans against the nearest wall, content to stand. A short while later, Emily and JJ return, Emily’s arm secure around JJ’s shoulders, before they too are digging in to the veritable mountain of food that Reid and Rossi managed to accumulate. Sitting in silence—save the crunching of whatever food they were eating—the team takes a second to contemplate and reassess the day.

The sound of Velcro breaks Hotch out of his trance, and he looks over to see Morgan undoing his bulletproof vest. The vests which the rest of them are still wearing. There’s a scramble after that, to rid themselves of their exterior layer, which are then haphazardly stacked on an open seat. Taking a deep breath for what feels like the first time in days, Hotch sinks back in his chair and closes his eyes, head tipped back against the cool wall behind him.

“Anyone want water?” Reid is the first to break the tenuous silence. There’s a chorus of hums and head shakes before he stands and wanders off, presumably in the direction of the vending machines where he first got the food.

“She’ll be fine, you know,” Rossi says looking at Aaron, whose eyes are now open, staring at the ceiling. “She’s tough, tougher than I think we gave her credit for.”

Hotch sighs in response, but Emily is the next to speak up.

“Robertson said she didn’t scream, which…” she trails off, looking at the floor before meeting Aaron’s eyes. “I don’t think I could have done that, not like that. I can’t imagine what that was like for her...”

“I wish we had gotten there sooner,” Hotch finally says. “I wish—”

“No.” Morgan says, a hard edge to his voice. “Don’t do that to yourself, Hotch. Or any of us. We did what we could and we found her alive.”

“I know, but—” Hotch is cut off by JJ this time.

“But nothing, Aaron. She’s going to be okay.” And with that, JJ moves from her chair to the one next to him and gently puts a hand on his shoulder. “She was awake and talking before they took her away, you know that,” she adds softly.

“Hey guys, so I talked to the nurse and—” Reid returns and with those words, Hotch sits straight in his seat, JJ’s hand falling away as his attention and that of his teammates focus on what Reid has to say next. “—and apparently, Y/N only needed minor surgery to repair some internal damage from three of the stab wounds and the other slashes were relatively shallow, so they just needed to be stitched up. She also has contusions on her head from where I’m guessing Robertson hit her to initially subdue her, and she does have a concussion and broken nose, but according to the nurse Y/N only has to stay here for a maximum of three days to make sure that there are no serious effects from the concussion and to keep an eye on her sutures before she’ll be cleared to leave.” Reid’s final statement hangs in the air, sinking in, and once it does, Aaron hangs his head as tears fall down his cheeks. You’re okay. You’re alive you’re alive you’re alive.

Derek immediately calls Garcia to give her the good news and her scream of excitement can be heard by the rest of the team even though Morgan did not have her on speakerphone. Rossi chuckles to himself before looking over at Aaron and his shaking shoulders. Putting a hand on his back, Rossi doesn’t say anything, but instead, provides silent support to the man who almost lost what little he had left.

“Agent Y/L/N?” comes a voice from the desk, and Aaron wipes his eyes before taking a breath and standing and turning with the rest of the team.

“Yes?” It’s Prentiss who replies.

“We’ve moved her to a room; you can see her now,” and with that, the nurse beckons for them to follow her through the set of double-doors that lead further into the hospital. Coming to a stop, the nurse turns and fixes Hotch with a look. “I’ll warn you now, she looks worse off than she actually is, so don’t be put off by her appearance. She shouldn’t move too much because there’s a risk she’ll rip her stitches, but other than that, she’ll be okay,” and with a nod, she opens the door and ushers them inside.

Aaron’s eyes rush to take in your appearance—butterfly bandages across your nose, a few on your cheekbones and forehead, bandages up both arms, and he’s sure there’s more hidden from view. For a moment, he’s taken back to the last time he saw you laying this still. Crumpled on the floor, bloody and unmoving, Robertson with a knife crouched over you, going to kill you—

Prentiss pushes past him, breaking his train of thought, as she moves to your side and gives a low whistle before gingerly taking your hand. Aaron walks to your other side, bending down to place a kiss on the top of your head, and the rest of the team surround your bed, everyone gazing down at your sleeping form.

---

The first thing you notice is the pain in your head, followed by pain that slowly pulses through your whole body, and for a moment, you remember. Robertson, the knife, slicing, slashing, taunting, yelling, don’t scream can’t scream—

But then you feel it. The familiar pressure of Aaron kissing your head and it clears your head a bit. Not with Robertson, not with Robertson, I’m not with that fucker.

“Fuck,” you groan, mind still hazy, pain more intense, as you return to consciousness. “Wh’re am I?” you slur out next, as you blink away the tiredness in your eyes and try not to squint at the fluorescents or the shadows that are sharpening into your team.

Looking to your right, you lock eyes with Aaron, who pushes hair off of your face before smiling sweetly at you and you try to smile back.

“Hi, Love,” you say, voice low and rough. He leans down and kisses your forehead this time, before gently holding your hand.

Realizing you aren’t alone, you look around at the rest of the team, squeezing Emily’s hand in yours.

“You killed ‘im?” you ask, searching her face. She nods. “Good,” you sigh. “He was such an asshole.”

With that, Derek laughs, followed by Rossi. Emily’s shoulders drop as she lets out a chuckle, Spencer smiles, and JJ rolls her eyes with a fond grin. Almost the whole team.

As if summoned by the power of thought, Derek’s phone rings and he answers the call, Garcia’s voice coming through loud and clear on speakerphone.

“Y/N! My poor, poor, goddess divine how are you?” she questions. You clear your throat and attempt to speak, but before you can say anything Morgan is passing the phone to Aaron, who holds it closer to your face. You shoot him a grateful smile before responding.

“I’m fine, Pen. Just some cuts and scrapes,” you joke.

“That’s a lie, Y/L/N and we all know it. Don’t make me ask you again!” she chastises and you roll your eyes, holding back a wince as pain twinges through your side.

“I’ll be okay, Penelope,” you say softly. Another jolt of pain, this time in your arm, almost makes you whimper, but you bite your lip instead. An action which does not go unnoticed in a room full of profilers.

“It’s nice to see you awake, Y/N,” JJ says lightly before shooting a glance at Aaron and then looking at the rest of the team. “But we should get back to the hotel.”

“Bye my lovelies! I’m happy you’re okay, Y/N. Get home safe, please! Garcia out,” and Derek puts his phone away before smiling at you. Reid give you a small wave and Rossi claps a hand on Aaron’s shoulder before they all turn to exit.

With one last squeeze to your hand, Emily lets go and follows the rest of the team, save Aaron, out the door with the promise that they’ll return later.

When everyone is out and the door shuts behind them, you finally let out a pained breath and scrunch your eyes shut with a groan. You feel Aaron smooth a hand over your hair and you try to control your breathing, but it’s hard when your entire body hurts. Slowly, tears make their way down your face and Aaron’s quick to softly brush them away. Turning to look at him, you allow yourself to breakdown in the safety of his presence.

Your breath hitches as the tears fall faster, your head hurts, your chest hurts, everything hurts and you try not to break into a sob, but the tears won’t stop and eventually sobs wrench from your body and you let them. Aaron has tears of his own falling down his face and he holds your hand in both of his, kissing your knuckles, fingertips, palm, whatever he can as he watches you break. He wants to hold you, wrap you in his arms and shield you from the pain but he can’t because your injuries prevent him from doing so and it pains him to see you this way. So he does what he can.

“I love you too, Sweetheart. I didn’t get to say it before you passed out and—” he pauses to take a breath. “I love you so much. So so much.”

“I was so scared—” you gasp through a sob. “Terrified, Aaron. I couldn’t—” you can’t speak through the force of your tears. Aaron shushes you and kisses your cheek, running his thumb over your knuckles.

“I know, Sweetheart. I know, but you were so brave, so brave and I am so proud of you for being so strong and—” he breaks off in his own soft sob. “—and for staying alive. You’re alive.”

Lifting a hand to scrub at your face, you take a few deep breaths, but more tears escape.

“I can’t—” your breath hitches at what exactly Robertson had done to you. “He wanted me to scream so I didn’t, I couldn’t. I knew what he did to the others, and I just thought that—” you take another breath. “I just thought that if I could deny him that, not give in, it would buy you guys time to find me,” you pull Aaron’s hand to your lips, resting them on the back of his hand and closing your eyes to ground yourself.

“And you did,” he replies softly, gently. “When we found you—” he takes his own steadying breath. “When we found you, Robertson was angry, he said…he said he needed to make you scream, and hearing that…I just,” he moves his hand to cup your face, softly moving his thumb over the bandage on your cheekbone. “You astound me, Sweetheart. Everyday,” he finishes in a whisper.

“I love you,” you say just as softly.

“I love you more,” he smiles, and you can’t help but smile back.

You lean forward, then. And he meets halfway, hand disentangling from yours so he can cradle both sides of your face as he sinks into the kiss. One of your own hands finds its place on his cheek and you sigh into his lips. This. This is what kept me alive, you think when he gently tilts your head. I love you I love you I love you. Thank you. With tears slowly drying on both your faces, you and Aaron revel in the comfort of each other. In the words you don’t have to speak, and the touch of the one you love. Through the worry, pain, and fear of the day, this is how it always ends. You and Aaron. Together. Safe. Loved.  

[girlucifer]

the gang moves go the suburbs but its lucifer and simeon:

*lucifer is done with his brothers as they have pushed him to yet another breaking point- leviathan summoned lotan again, mammon didn't pay the bills and now the electricity is off for the next 48 hours, asmodeus threw a party and the entire house is a mess- whatever the cause, lucifer has to find some other place NOW!

*simeon is just hanging out when lucifer shows up unexpectedly to purgatory hall. luke is like get OUT you are not welcome here . . . and solomon's like lucifer yay you are here make a pact with me also eat my fucking cookies [holds out a hockey puck]. lucifer’s like, yeah ok bad idea- not sure why i came here. i’m going to some hotel, goodbye all! cue simeon being like wait bestie i have an idea

*simeon and lucifer head to the demon lord's castle and strike up a deal with barbatos to live in one of the many rooms for a month. mammon and the bros find out and get all up in lucifer's business. they’re like: lucifer we're the best you’re ever gonna get, you're gonna hate it here its gonna be the worst you won’t last a month. lucifer’s like: mmfuckyoufuckyou you wanna bet money boy? if i last a month, i’m canceling your credit card. if i don’t- which won’t happen- you get to control my bank account for a month. how about that. mammon’s like fucking DEAL!

*simeon's like hey lucifer hey lucifer it would be crazy if i moved in too 👉👈 unless...? and he moves in solely because he does not want lucifer getting with diavolo. lucifer’s like [simmering with rage] fine simeon you can stay in the room adjacent to mine but if you fuck me over me i’m going to banish your ass to the nether realm

*day 1 - simeon plays housewife while lucifer goes to work at RAD. lucifer comes home and simeon's dusting his room- it’s completely spotless, his shoes shined, his clothes folded, his bed done, and to top it off, simeon made a little cute dinner of mac n cheese for the two of them. lucifer is like wow simeon this is amazing thank you so much! to simeon who’s like [#^^#] the two enjoy dinner and comment how nice and quiet it is- no solomon cooking grotesque food smelling up the whole house, no leviathan screaming at his video games and no satan trying to curse lucifer... peace and quiet. lovely.

*simeon and lucifer spend their first night in the demon lord’s castle. it seems nice and all at first- until simeon hears the faint screams and groans of someone far beneath the castle floors and becomes worried, terrified even. he almost wants to go out and find out- what could be causing it? of course he's heard of the rumors that barbatos tortures victims deep in the guts of the castle but surely, it's all nonsense. right? all the while lucifer hears diavolo's pager going off every 10 minutes. it’s like a little chirp, signaling diavolo to some devildom matter that needs his attention. does diavolo never sleep or something? lucifer muffles the sound by pressing the pillow into his face.

*the next morning, lucifer's like simeon did you hear the constant beeping? jesus christ that shit’s annoying. and simeon's like yeah!! but honestly i found the screams much more worrisome... and lucifer’s like screams? simeon: yeah, like someone being tortured- it was freaky. tell me you heard them too? lucifer: ???  the two gloss over it and continue going about their days, all though their back aches from the stiff bed and heads pound from getting not enough sleep.

*day 8 - simeon cooks yet again mac n cheese. the first time was cute but lucifer asked: again? simeon's like yes! you liked it so much the first time so i thought it can be our thing :) simeon was so happy that lucifer ate it in silence. 

*lucifer now carpools with barbatos and diavolo, who keep bickering on which radio station to put on. lucifer wants to blow his brains out.

*simeon is home alone all day and gets a little stir-crazy. he decides to build a bookcase but quickly realizes he is not at all a handyman. lucifer walks in on simeon staring intently at blueprints among sawdust and hundreds of little nails. boards of wood are crudely glued together. lucifer notes simeon getting a bit unhinged. he heads to the pet store and gifts simeon a cute little hellhound. simeon gets all heart-eyes and exclaims: how adorable! he shall be named lucifer! [lucifer: no.] okay, then lucifer junior! [lucifer: ...fine]

*the noises at night won’t stop. SHUT UP SHUT UP GET OUT OF MY HEADDDD !!!

*barbatos and diavolo bicker again during the commute to RAD. rock! no pop! no- heavy metal! lucifer looks longingly out the window of the car, readying to jump out onto speeding traffic

*day 15 - half way there! lucifer and simeon sit down for another mac n cheese dinner. no words are exchanged. simeon gets up to do the dishes and lucifer follows, placing his bowl in the sink. the garbage disposal stops working, sending simeon to a spiral “I’M GOING TO FUCKING LOSE IT, LUCIFER!!!!!” lucifer sighs and shakes his head- “maybe... maybe this isn’t going to work out. i might lose the bet- but that means mammon controls my money. mammon, simeon! he’s going to ruin my fucking credit score!” “well, ok, we’re half way through. we just gotta keep going- you can do it lucifer! mwah!” the two bid each other goodnight, but sleep never comes. 

*the nonstop barking, the shit stains, the dog food everywhere. simeon's starting to break.

*[here lies lucifer jr. may he rest in peace]

*day 29 - simeon glares angrily at lucifer as he eats his mac n cheese reading the newspaper. lucifer catches his eye and gives a questioning look. simeon gets up and throws a stack of photos on the table- diavolo and lucifer eating at madame screams, ristorante six, hell’s kitchen- "youve been eating OUT? without ME??" lucifer replies upset, "you’ve been spying on me?!" "I SLAVE AWAY FOR YOU DAY AND NIGHT, CLEANING YOUR ROOM, MAKING YOU DINNER, AND YOU EAT OUT?? IT'S ALWAYS ABOUT LUCY LUCY LUCY, NEVER ABOUT ME! YOU DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THE DEAD DOG, YOU DIDNT EVEN NOTICE I CHANGED UP THE MAC N CHEESE!" lucifer narrows his eyes, standing up. "this is about THE FUCKING MAC N CHEESE? OF COURSE I NOTICED YOU CHANGED IT UP. YOU PUT MEAT HUNKS IN IT!!" simeon cackles maliciously. "meat hunks huh?... IT’S THE DOG LUCY. YOU'RE EATING LUCIFER JR! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

*lucifer rushes to get his coat- “i can’t live with you here anymore i have gotta get out of this god-damnned place” and trips over a box of mac n cheese. he looks up to see a closed closet- he opens it to see hundreds of empty mac n cheese boxes tumbling down. “they’re store-bought?” “i... you just liked it so much, i couldn’t break the illusion” “you’re pathetic” “AND YOU AREN’T? YOU’RE ESCAPING TO HELL’S KITCHEN TO EAT DEVIL FRIES RATHER THAN FACING ME!”

*[scream] simeon widens his eyes- “THERE! THERE! did you hear that? it was the creepy scream! the creepy scream!” lucifer grabs the nearby fireplace poker: “NEWSFLASH ASSHOLE!!!! IVE BEEN HEARING IT THE ENTIRE GODDAMN TIME!!” simeon pouts- “then why didn’t you say anything?” “BECAUSE I HAAATTEEE YOOOUU!”

*just as lucifer was about to start swinging, with simeon gearing up to tackle the demon in front of him, the clock strikes midnight! confetti and poppers go off as mammon + his brothers walk in with a bottle of demonus, bright smiles upon their faces- “CONGRATS LUCIFER! YOU MADE IT THROUGH A MONTH! i had no idea you had it in you- good job!” lucifer and simeon glance at each other and burst into laughter- they made it! their past quarrels seemed so silly and insignificant now! mammon’s like: so i guess you’ll live here from now on, considering you love it so much without us! lucifer and simeon look at each other - cut to lucifer in his study back at the house of lamentation, as the house literally shakes because the boys are being INSANE. water starts trickling down from the ceiling, spotting the papers he was signing. simeon texts him a photo of the [redacted] solomon made for dinner- luke’s passed out in the corner of the picture. he takes a deep breath and smiles.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 7- Touch Me Under The Stars

Bucky Barnes x reader Series Rewrite (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)

Summary: Now that Bucky is finally out of Cryo, the two of you adjust to life in Wakanda.

Warning: fluff, smut (it gets spicy), Bucky being soft

Masterlist

Life in Wakanda was something you could never have ever dreamed of, they literally had everything here. The buildings were huge, the people so interesting and lively, the scenery absolutely breathtaking, and the tech? Out of this fucking world to put it bluntly. Tony Stark who?

Though you’d be a lying fool if you claimed to be fully satisfied with your new corner of the globe, you had a place to exist and feel comfortable in, even a nice apartment overlooking the city that’s attached to where Bucky is currently being held in.

Right. Bucky.

He’s been on your mind as of late, well in actuality he’s been consuming most of your brain processing for the past couple weeks since you and him arrived here with T’Challa and Steve after the mess in Siberia.

Another painful memory added to the already long list of traumatic experiences endured by you throughout these past sixty or so years. But you’re surviving, well enough for the most part that is; you see Steve left soon after Bucky went into the Cryo chamber. Leaving yourself all on your lonesome in a strange new country with no friends but T’Challa.

If you could even consider him a friend.

Who by the way, makes you still feel pretty uncomfortable around considering all the times you beat the shit out of each other in the past, and he thought you and Bucky killed his dad, so it’s been light treading even if he insists it’s all in the past.

On a lighter note you met his little sister Shuri, who upon discovering who you were and what you can do, immediately began marveling at the fact that you have Adamantium claws in your forearms. She was thoroughly impressed and asked for you to cut a lot of random expensive looking objects for scientific purposes only.

Well that’s what she claimed at least. Other then then those two, you’ve been pretty solitary for the most part. Which has really started getting to you recently, something that T’Challa has begun to notice.

That man is too observant for his own good.

Wind rustles the jungle trees from outside this large glass window in the lounging area of King T’Challa’s extravagant home. They sway freely in the open sun as they stretch their great green leaves to the beautiful sky above. But no bout of joy resides in your heart this day, no matter how enticing the weather may appear.

Soon a new presence is felt in the room, though it’s nothing to be alarmed about as he walks to your side, a thoughtful yet concerned expression crossing over his kingly features, “Are you finding your stay here welcoming Y/N?” Wonders T’Challa softy as you slowly blink.

“I am.”

He frowns, you’ve been quit talkative before, but now you barely even speak to anyone, “My friend I know you are not alright. Please tell me what troubles your heart.”

Dammit he’s good.

Sighing, you hug your sides as he patiently awaits an honest answer, frowning, you reluctantly begin, “I thought I would be fine....I’ve always been alone for most of my life anyways. Never counted on anyone but myself. Never needed anyone but myself. That’s how I survived. It’s just now.....I have Bucky. And I care about him more then anything in the world, but he’s gone.......well not really but, you know.” You whisper before turning your head towards some tall trees so that the king cannot see the way that your eyes brim with unshed tears. God the ache you feel for him is almost unbearable.

Understanding your deep sorrow from your lovers absence, T’Challa slowly nods, “I cannot fully express an understanding of your pain, as I have never felt it like the way that you have now. Nor have I lived the life of your own.” He admits as you turn your head to catch him in your peripheral vision, not quit ready to meet his unthreatening gaze.

He swallows before continuing, “But this I do know, you are a warrior if I’ve ever known one, and I know many.” Chuckles the king, “You fight fiercely and love deeply, Bucky should be proud to have you by his side. I may envy that kind of love, though I should not say it, it is true.”

A stray tear slides down your cheek as you quickly wipe it away with the back of your hand, “Love.” You whisper softly in thought, “I do love him, yes....very much. I’ve been withdrawn lately, because well, I guess I miss him more then I’d realize I would. I hope your people help him. That’s all I ask for, I’ll wait forever if I have to.”

“You might not be waiting quit that long actually.” Reveals Shuri as her familiar footsteps wander into the large sun-lite room overlooking the jungle, “My team just needs a couple more days with him and he’ll be good to go for the most part. Though the process of fully becoming free from the trigger words may take a little longer....his mind will still need time to heal.” Explains Shuri as she moves to stand on your left, opposite of her half-brother.

At this your heart speeds up with excitement, eyes turning to face the smiling princess , “I don’t want to threaten royalty, but I might break a couple of your lounge chairs if you’re lying to me. I’m not joking.” You add half jokingly as T’Challa lightly chuckles.

“Now I do not doubt that.”

——

Today you’ve been summoned into the lab in preparation for Bucky’s defrosting, claiming that having a familiar face as the first thing he sees was probably the best for when he wakes up again, at least that’s what the doctors told you.

And of course you didn’t even hesitate to say yes. So now here you are in their cleaner then a soap bottle lab, standing nervously a couple feet away from the Cryo chamber as some scientists go about their duties to his left. It’s strange, he looks relatively peaceful and serene, like he’s having a nice little nap while standing upright and covered in frost.

Nonetheless Bucky looks handsome as always, soon a tiny subconscious smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you await the aftermath of the defrosting process. A button is hit and the familiar whoosh of the air chamber fills your ears as bouts of warm white steam push up into the air from the bottom and sides of his chamber.

The inside goes foggy before one of the scientists flicks a switch and the glass door pops open to emit a plethora of tiny clouds that float up and dissipate just as quickly. In the aftermath, your eyes search for Bucky, he’s still sleeping and is covered in a couple specks of blue frost, his hair undoubtedly wet from the chamber’s atmosphere.

“Give him a moment, he may be slightly disoriented as the body wakes up again.” Explains Shuri from the doorway as you bite your bottom lip anxiously in anticipation for when he’s finally conscious.

“Right.” You nod in understanding, “Not like this isn’t the first time I’ve seen him this way.” You mutter with a depressing chuckle.

A second later you’re alerted to the sound of someone sucking in a deep breath, immediately your head snaps over to witness as Bucky stirs, his fingers curl back to life as his lips part. Then soon after his two icy blue pools slowly reveal themselves to the rest of the lab as he takes a look around.

Your fists grip tightly onto the fabric of your jacket as Bucky swallows before blinking back the slight blur of waking up from a couple weeks of hibernation. The scientists, Shuri, and you study his movements as Bucky’s brow raises in thought, his eyes only on you.

“How longs it been?” He wonders before taking a step to get out of the Cryo chamber.

“Exactly a month and a half Mr. Barnes.” Chirps Shuri enthusiastically as he nods in understanding before she gives a glance between the two of you, “Alright, I’ll give you and Miss. Valerious some time to catch up while we check your vitals.” Adds the princess before exiting out the door, the other scientists following suit.

Now it’s just you and your Bucky; glancing at the floor, the two of you wander into a semi-awkward silence before he finally breaks the ice, “You look good.” He mutters softly, a small reassuring smile on his pink lips as your eyes trail up to meet his.

Revealing a breathy laugh, you shrug, “Hardly. But you on the other hand, white, I like it. It’s a good color on you.”

His stubbled cheeks flush pink as he smiles brightly, “I think I remember you telling me the exact same thing before I went under.”

“Well I just told you again, because I mean it.”

“Well I like the new style..” Points Bucky to your outfit, “it’s Wakandian but very Y/N.....I like it.”

Shaking your head you begin giggling at his adorable compliment, “Barnes you’re too much....but seriously, how do you feel? Are you dizzy? Nauseous? Thirsty?”

He smiles, “No, uh....I actually feel pretty good honestly. I could go for something to eat though, I’m starving.”

Walking over you gently take his hand in yours, “Say no more. T’Challa’s got everything here.”

——

After Bucky got readjusted and evaluated by Shuri’s team of incredible scientists and brilliant doctors, Bucky was well on his way to a full recovery from the years of mental torture given to him by Hydra. The words didn’t affect him anymore, the anxiety surrounding the very thought of breaking and turning on everyone again was a thing of the past.

He was your Bucky, completely.

In the following days after, T’Challa found a nice place on the outskirts of the grand city where you and Bucky could lay low and recover for some time as needed. Not wanting to over due your stay in his lavish home, and also wanting to feel the breeze again, you both agreed to live in a little village on the edge of a large pond.

All of it was Wakanda, so neither you nor Bucky stressed any worry that the Romanian and German authorities would come bursting through the front gates to whisk you away for your crimes. Or Tony Stark for that matter, he definitely hates you guys without a doubt in your mind.

Definitly with good reason, but that doesn’t mean you’d ever dare give Bucky up.

But on to greener pastures, it’s truly a possible thing that you’ve never seen Bucky in colors besides black or faded red shirts. But now? He wanders around in the brilliantly beautiful colors of Wakanda and her people with a brighter smile on his lips and lack of one arm for the time being.

Ah yes, the arm.

For the most part he’s been fine about it, though he needs your assistance when getting dressed or when attempting to wash the grime from his growing mane. Although, and fortunately for you, he’s still quit proficient in the area of love making with no decline in performance with lack of one arm, much to your satisfaction and his.

Besides that, it’s amusing, since you’ve been staying in this little friendly village, the kids have begun calling him the White Wolf when they want his attention. Which in turn earns a small smile upon his lips, one because he knows you usually hear it and think it’s adorable, and two it’s probably the first honestly kind thing anyone has ever placed on him, ever.

Walking across the villages center area, past huts and ladies washing some of their tunics, you follow the excited rambling of one of the village children as she talks a mile a minute about how you just have to see this really cool thing right now without exception. So of course you have to see this really cool thing, right now.

“Y/N! Y/N! Come! Faster you’re going to miss it, hurry you’re being slow.” Urges Ryn’a with a wave of her hand as she beckons you to starts running with her.

Heeding to her urgent request, you give her aunt a pursed lip grind before racing after the sprinting child, “This better be very interesting, or I’ll throw you into the water again!” You playfully threaten as she giggles across the grassy field.

Soon you’re crouching behind a rock as she peeks over the stony edge, ducking back down, she gives you a mischievous grin, “The White Wolf doesn’t see us.”

Raising a brow you nod, “This is what you wanted me to see? Him?”

Shaking her head she rolls her dark eyes in amusement, “No. We’re hunting.” She smirks in excitement as your brows furrow in confusion. Huh?

“Uh.....what?” Suddenly you connect the dots, “Are we hunting the White Wolf?” You ask, pretty damn positive that’s where this little adventure is going.

Shaking your shoulder excitedly she squeaks with joy before instantly catching herself and quieting down real quick, “He’s just over this rock. Chopping wood for the fire tonight....we need to hit him with a stick okay, then we run.”

Slowly nodding, your eyes trail over her excited face, “Hmm, okay. But I gotta ask, did Kova put you up to this and I’m now an accomplice?”

Biting her bottom lip, she diverts her gaze to the bushes behind you before mumbling out, “He might have......and if I was to hit the White Wolf on his head without getting caught. I’d get to play the drums for the fire tonight.” She whispers almost embarrassed.

Giving her a kind smile, you gently touch her shoulder in reassurance as she looks to you now, “Well then. Looks like we’re on a wolf hunt today, huh. Lucky for you, I’m great at throwing sticks.”

Immediately she squeals in joy before standing as still as stone, “Sorry.”

“No worries. I don’t think he heard a sound.” You reply, snatching a ruler sized stick from the ground before peeking over the grey sun kissed rock.

There he is, in his red tunic completely oblivious, using a Vibranium axe to chop away at the wood for tonight’s fire dance. Sitting back down, you press your back against the stone as Ryn’a clenches her fists in excited anticipation, “Ready, Y/N?” You nod as she smiles.

“Okay good....don’t miss.” She warns.

“I never miss.” You muse before turning back around, your eyes peek up over the edge and watch as Bucky sets another log on the flat rock, he hauls the axe down, splitting the wood in two.

Setting the axe down again, he walks over to the small log pile before selecting one and setting it back on the flat rock, bending down to grab the axe and when he stands to his full height again...

Smack!

Instantly the dry weather worn stick flies from the back of his head to the ground below as he throws a wary look in your direction. Though he sees absolutely nothing but a big grey rock and some bushes. Touching the back of his head, he looks down and swiftly picks up the relatively unthreatening piece of dried wood.

Studying it like it’s the holy grail and will give him all the answers to eternal life and whatnot, he throws it to the ground before continuing with his duties as you turn back to Ryn’a. “That was a good hit.....can you do it again? Please?” Mutters the little beast as you settle down from that adrenaline rush of perfectly nailing Bucky in the back of his head without getting caught.

Let’s not forget you were one of Hydra’s most deadliest assassins.

Her dark chocolate eyes stare pleadingly and puppy-like as she fake pouts, “Please Y/N? I won’t ever leave another turtle in your house ever again....promise. I promise, please?” She quietly begs as you contain your laughter.

“Yeah alright. But you’re gonna have to run cause he’s probably gonna figure out where the second one came from.” You add with a smirk, “I’ll deal with the wolf after. I can take him.”

“Yes!” She squeaks, “Oh, sorry I mean....yes.” She whispers quietly as you search for a new stick to throw.

Soon enough you find another and cautiously look around the side of the rock this time, there’s Bucky, setting another log on the flat rock before slicing it in half. Instantly the biggest grin pulls your lips into a Cheshire Cat smile as he turns to grab another log.

Smack!

“Hey! Who was that?!” He shouts in confusion as Ryn’a bursts with laughter before booking it back to the safety of the village while you crouch there behind a rock cackling like a child.

God that was such an accurate hit too. And he didn’t even see it coming.

Suddenly you hear the sounds of feet running against the earth, when Bucky makes it to the back of the large rock you’re nowhere to be found. Brows furrowing, he looks at the bushes and then over to the nearby village before shaking his head and turning around to walk back over to his usual duties for the day.

Only now he’s confronted by the casually innocent face of you who’s standing there with the axe slung over your shoulder, “Something scare you Barnes?” You muse with a small laugh before nodding towards the wood, “I mean these logs can be pretty scary I won’t hold it against you. You might have seen a snake, who knows.”

Sauntering back over to you he stands there for a moment just observing your casually calm self, “Why do I have a suspicion you just hit me with a stick. Twice.”

Shrugging, you slam the axe into the dirt before rising up to meet his humored gaze, “Maybe it was a Rhino, maybe it was a little nine year old who needed me to win her a drum. Guess you’ll never know.”

Glancing from the ground then back up to you again, Bucky shakes his head at your theatrical antics, warm smile ghosting across his lips, “Well just so you know it didn’t hurt.” Assures your big tough man with a nod.

“I’ll use a bigger stick next time.” You quip as he takes a step closer to you.

Handsome face breaking out into a beaming grin, “Come on, let’s go for a walk. I’m tired of chopping wood.” He says as his fingers ghost against the bare skin of your sleeveless shoulders, “I just want to be with you.”

Touching the side of of his stubbly cheek affectionately, you smile, “Where too? By the pond?” Which causes him to snort a breathy laugh.

“No, I don’t trust you by open water.”

You shrug in agreement, remembering the first time you both arrived here and the children brought you into a splashing fight where you got Bucky’s hair all wet, “Yeah that’s fair.”

——

After enjoying a pleasant evening walk together, eating a delicious traditional Wakandian meal, and watching the performers for the celebration dance and beat on their drums for hours into the night. You and Bucky decided to steal away from the festivities and have a little moment together under the stars, just you and him, nothing and no one else.

“That was nice wasn’t it.” You mutter as he lays on his back next to you, “I like these people. They’re kind.”

Turning his head to meet your shadowed face, he smiles adoringly as you keep a steady gaze set on the stars above, “Well, no ones trying to kill us so I’d say we’re doing alright.”

“We are, aren’t we. Who would have thought that shit huh? Two ex-assassins, two fucked up people like us laying like sappy teenagers under the stars. This almost feels like some stupid romantic film.”

Bucky lets out a proper laugh this time as you send him a humored look, “What? I’m being honest!”

Quickly he rolls onto his side to face you, a new sultry flicker flashing through his dark gaze, “Maybe I like being sappy with you.” He mutters lovingly before trailing a finger across your jaw as you study his face.

“Sappy with me? Why Mr. Barnes are you flirting with me this fine evening?” You muse with a breathy chuckle as he smiles brightly down at you.

“I was hoping you’d notice, is it working?” He asks, a hopeful look in his dark blue eyes.

Leaning closer, he’s pleasantly surprised when you gently press your lips to his, “My God James you’re making me swoon.” You jest before snickering at your shitty old-timey accent replacing the Eastern European one, “Why I’ve never met such a character, now tell me Mr. Barnes, are you a single man?”

Holding in his laughter, he takes a breath before answering, “Doll, I’m taken.”

Gasping in mock surprise, you quickly sit up before pushing him onto his back by both shoulders, your legs to either side of his torso as your faces keep mere inches apart, “Well, well, well how about that.” You slyly tisk, your natural accent dripping heavily as it sends a thrill through Bucky, “Lucky woman indeed. But I can guarantee you, I’m much more enticing.”

Bucky shivers as you lean your body closer to his, your silky hands to either side of his flushed face as you smile a devilish grin in the darkness, “I don’t doubt it.” He rasps, voice just barley above a whisper, lips so close to yours now you could almost taste him.

“I just realized something.” You suddenly mumble against his plush inviting lips.

Bucky hums in reply, to completely and utterly enthralled by your seductive charm to even form a coherent sentence, you smirk before rising to properly sit up against him, “Bucky, you look better in the dark.”

His stomach rises with a deep laugh that rubs pleasingly against your growing warmness as he gently squeezes a hand on your right thigh, “You’re gonna get it for that one.” He muses, appearing like he’s about to flip you over but you’re not having any of that.

Pressing a hand against his firm chest, you suddenly grind your clothed nether regions slowly and meticulously against his lower stomach. He quickly lets out a low guttural moan as you lean down to press a chaste kiss against his lips.

Pulling away, you rest one hand on the thin Wakandian blanket that’s keeping you two from the dirty ground below, your other hand gently trailing down the side of his stubbly face, “Just let me make love to you okay? If you want that i...”

“Yes!” Interrupts Bucky with a great bout of enthusiasm before catching himself, “I mean....uh, yes please.” He mutters, failing to regain his composure as you circle your hips against his fiery skin. Oh, you are certainly enjoying yourself.

Smiling into the half moonlight, your eyes trail cautiously over to the burning village bond-fire a small trek away, seeing everyone laughing and minding their sweet business you then immediately pull your shirt off, your bra following right after just as quickly. Laying discarded on the nearby grass for later; Bucky’s eyes go wide with lust as the outline of your curves and protruding breasts flash like gold in the moonlight.

God you’re so beautiful, he thinks, and all mine.

The smile that Bucky gives you could just about light up a room on the darkest of nights, he wants you, he needs to be consumed by you, to feel you for all that you are. You can see it by the way that he rubs your partially exposed thigh, by the way his eyes never leave yours and when they do it’s to wander around your divine vessel.

He’s never been more in love then in this very moment, if that’s even possible; he’s never really spoken too deeply about it, his time with Hydra. But he’s undoubtedly glad that you found him when you did, he was in a dark place then. Lost and alone, on the run and keeping to the shadows as best he could from the rest of the hungry eyes of the world.

Then one day out of the blue you showed up with nothing but your wits and a kind smile to show you meant no harm, all you wanted was to see him again after all that time apart from your escape and his imprisonment with Hydra. He was sent to kill you, but you came back to him anyways.

He didn’t understand it at first, when he began to realize what falling in love truly felt like, but with time it came to him. At first sight wasn’t something that happened by any means, he was nervous to see you, standing there so innocently in his apartment in Bucharest. He thought he was being careful, he thought he was safe.

But then Hydra’s most prized weapon and most difficult one at that, you, had shown up to make sure he was okay. He couldn’t believe it, but what scared him the most as he let you stay with him, he was slowly but surly beginning to fall in love with you.

Now that was a new feeling he hadn’t felt in decades, you intrigued him, made him laugh with the simplest of offhanded side comments, made him try to be a better person. And most of all you made him feel wanted and loved, and that is something he will always hold dearly to his very heart and soul.

Because as you’ve said to him, you’re his ride or die no exception, you’ll always be there to throw a punch for him or to gather himself in your arms when the darkness threatens to consume him for all he’s worth.

You’re not afraid of him like so many are, you don’t run from danger, oh no, when Bucky’s concerned. You’re ass will fight to exhaustion to keep him safe and alive. Which so far has proved a very useful state of mind in consideration to the past events that have currently led you two on this ever changing roller coaster.

From Bucharest to Berlin, a flight to Siberia and a long skip down to Wakanda; you two will be by each other’s side no matter the distance. Because to put it bluntly, you’re all Bucky has left in the world and Bucky is all you have either, one without the other would be a dreadful existence.

Luckily for you, Bucky’s incredibly alive and doing pretty damn alright all things considered. Also for the current moment, he’s becoming an undone mess underneath you. Which is just what you’ve wanted, he deserves it.

Trailing a fiery pathway of butterfly kisses from his collarbone all the way up to his neck and jawline, Bucky emits a deep groan of pleasure as you palm him through his baggy pants that have started to tent with the pull of his growing hardness.

His lower half is still clothed while your whole body is free for the shimmering stars to bear witness to, and Bucky of course. “Y/N. Please.” He rasps as you feel up his clothed manhood while you grind tirelessly against his bare stomach, the sensation no doubt drawing you into a blissful rising climax to follow.

Stopping your pleasurable attack to his hardened member, you swiftly roll off of him as you decide it’s time to get things rolling, “Alright hot stuff get that shit off, I need you inside me right the fuck now.”

“Give me a sec...” Grunts Bucky as he kicks off his pants into the grass before you help him prepare to slip off his underwear, holding the top rim of the fabric, you generously pull it to his ankles before he kicks them off completely.

He chuckles as your face flashes with delight once all the goods are finally shown at long last, “See something you like?” Quips your man as your head snaps up to meet his amused gaze, huh were you staring?

A hot second later you’re hovering directly above his heated body as he strains from grabbing your soft hips and pushing your slick entrance into him. He wants you to enjoy yourself more then anything in the world, so instead does he pull you in for a heated kiss.

“I see many things that I like.” You whisper against his soft lips before slowly sinking down onto him, the sensation of his fullness and girth pulling you into a world of bliss.

Your smile is almost provocative as he moans, the sounds of his pleasure sending sparks of electricity into your system, “God Buck, you feel so fucking good.” You praise, rolling your hips back and forth against him shamelessly, God he loves it when you sweet talk him

He smirks against the corner of your lips before kissing your cheek, “You.....to-too.” Stutters Bucky while you continue to relentlessly ride him like a wild bull, the rocking of your hips causing him to forget how to properly speak.

He looks absolutely angelic, dark locks spread out upon the Wakandian blanket, shirtless, and face smiling with great happiness and joy that he’s been so terribly deprived of for such a long time. Not anymore. Not if you can help it.

Biting your lip when his member twitches inside you, you’re helpless to stop as a soft voluptuous whimper leaves your parted lips unexpectedly when he bucks his hips into you for some more friction. Noticing how well this new action is being received by you, Bucky does it over and over again until you’re nothing but a moaning mess above him.

Dammit he knows how to make you feel good.

Your body falling fully onto him as he makes you cum hard, “F-fuck.....oh God Buck, fuck me.” You mumble against his lips as he thrusts up into you over and over until he finally spills inside you with a concentrated grunt.

“oh.” You gasp breathlessly as Bucky flips you onto your back in one skilled motion, still deep within your wet warmness as his whole body presses you wonderfully into the soft blanket, “I hope they can’t see us.” You point out as Bucky chuckles before kissing your jawline, strong hips pushing against yours as he parts your legs further with his large body.

“It’s dark out.” Mutters Bucky in reply as he pulls another moan from your sweet lips, “They’re dancing.....and we’re....oh fuck....uhh....yes...” He can’t even finish his sentence as you suddenly squeeze your walls tightly around his cock as a second orgasm hits you, “Dear God Y/N.” Moans Bucky while you trail pink fiery lines down his muscular back.

Smiling against his lips, you fully enjoy the sensation of his thick member sliding in and out of you at a blissfully rapid pace as he continues to make a mess down there with his pleasure inducing actions. You’re incredibly grateful for the fire dance celebration happening a little ways away and all the loud pounding of the tribal drums that masks over the sounds of yours and Bucky’s intense love making on the Wakandian savanna.

Biting your lip, you can’t help when more whiney moans slip from your mouth, he’s a relentless force of lust and love that’s on a mission to see you filled to the brim with pleasure once more. He needs you, he wants every single inch of your heated vessel, he needs you to come for him just one last time.

“Y/N.” Mumbles Bucky against your parted lips as you slowly nod in acknowledgment, too fucked out to think. He smirks, “Cum for me, last time okay.” Says your lover sweetly as his hips roll against your sweaty skin, sending waves of building pleasure on a crash course for your hot core that’s pulsating in delight.

Digging your nails into the slick muscle of his broad back, you suck in a breath while his hard member slides in and out of you with ease. You’re about to come undone right under him yet again, the power of this man you could just about die happy, “Fuck,” You whimper helplessly as he kisses your cheek, “oh God Buck I’m close.”

He smiles proudly as his hips thrust forward, cock sliding deep within your warm walls as his manhood presses on the brim of your entrance, working absolute wonders on your over-stimulated clit.

Soon enough, the tight coil bursts open, sending shock waves of absolute radiant bliss that causes your muscles to tighten and shake reflexively. A sudden wetness slips out around his cock and onto the Wakandian blanket that’s definitely going to need a deep cleaning tomorrow.

The new liquid slides down your inner thighs as your body slowly yet surly comes down from your salaciously erotic climax; head unclouding the thick fog away, you take a deep breath only for yourself to realize you just squirted for the first time ever.

And it appears Bucky has just come to this thrilling realization too, locking eyes with him, you’re greeted with a sly smirk, “Did I just make you squirt?” Muses Bucky in underlying excitement as you simply roll your eyes.

“Well, it’s not like I can deny it considering it’s all over the blanket, among other places.” You sass back, still aware of how he’s still buried deep inside you, “Proud of yourself?” You add with a small laugh.

Kissing your lips in reply, he pushes himself up by his one arm to gently slip out of you before laying in an exhausted heap at your side, “Actually. Yes, I am very proud of myself thanks for asking.” Quips Bucky while his hand trails down your bare rib cage before a huge grin reveals itself in the darkness, “I just made my girlfriend squirt!” Shouts Bucky without a care in the whole goddamn world.

Smacking his arm, you quickly sit up and look around, though it appears no one even knows you two are out here, “Will you shut up!” You whisper yell down at Bucky who’s giving you the biggest white toothed smile ever, “Stop smiling it wasn’t that impressive.”

Faking a half offended look, he pats your leg affectionately, “It was! And you seemed to be enjoying it so just accept that I’ve gotten better at this.”

You scoff, “I never said you weren’t. It’s just we’ve been together for almost three years and that’s the first time I’ve ever done.....that. So..”

“And it just happened so therefore I am amazing and you’re just going to have to accept how hot I am Y/N.”

“Buc..”

“I was getting you all hot and bothered doll.” Winks Bucky seductively as you shake your head at him, a reluctant smile creeping onto your beautiful features anyway.

“God you’re so old.”

Bucky snorts, “And aren’t you 65 or something? Sleeping with a 90 year old man....Y/N you’re getting out of hand.”

Shoving his hand off of your leg, you swiftly fall into his side as his arm curls up to wrap protectively against your waist, “Bucky shut your ass up.” You snicker, “I liked you better when I was on top. All you did was give me that “oh god Y/N oh fuck me ohhh I’m gonna I’m gonna...”

Bucky squeezes your side, “Okay. Okay. I get it you little asshole....let’s just, let’s just rest a moment yeah?”

You hum, shifting yourself so that you can lay against his chest, “Getting mushy on me now Barnes?” You whisper softly with a playful smirk.

A small smile pulls at the corners of his plush lips while he glances down at you, “A little.”

For about twenty minutes the two of you keep silent, just listing to the yelps and thunderous pounding of the drums from farther away. There is no reason to leave, no reason to move, no reason to speak. Just you two, laying wrapped up together in each others loving embrace, taking in the moment for as long as you can. The future is always uncertain, so every single second with Bucky is a blessing to be cherished and consumed for all you can take.

His breaths are slow and steady as you feel the soft rise and fall of his muscular chest that’s pressed against your breasts and face. His fingers run gentle line up and down your naked skin as you hug him close.

“Do you remember when we first saw one another?” Asks Bucky, his voice almost startling you. Lips just barley brush against your naked shoulder as he holds you close, your face nuzzled comfortably against his dark hair.

You pause, eyes blinking as they shift over to Bucky while he awaits an answer, “It was a long time ago Buck.”

“I know. But do you remember?”

Shrugging, you shift a bit to have a better look at his face, “I do. But you were the Winter Soldier and I was.....something I never want to be ever again.” You mutter, the sadness and regret deep in your soft voice.

All goes silent for the next couple minutes before Bucky suddenly kisses your shoulder, “I thought you were beautiful.”

Yours brows raise as you pull from his right grasp to sit up on one elbow while you look down at him, a lump forming in the back of your throat as you hold back tears. You didn’t expect to get this emotional but here you are naked and bare for him, “You did?”

Bucky nods in the darkness, heart hurting when your voice cracks, he’s never told you a word about how he felt when he was a weapon, “And every day after that.”

“oh.”

“I didn’t want them to.....well, you know.....I didn’t want to forget you.” Confesses Bucky, “I’m so fucking glad I didn’t. Thank you for finding me Y/N....I owe you my life.”

Biting the bottom of your quivering lip, he smiles adoringly up at you, “Bucky....shut up you’re going to make me cry you bastard.” He laughs as you indeed shed a couple stray tears in this soft moment of vulnerability with your sweet man as he holds you protectively in his arm.

“I mean it...every single word, you mean so much to me Y/N. The world would be a darker place without you in it...”

You lower your head in shame, all those buried memories piling up all at once, “No. No it wouldn’t be....I’m part of the darkness Bucky...you know that..”

“Y/N, look at me, please.” Begs Bucky as you begrudgingly lift your head for him to meet your tearfully sad eyes, “Don’t let them win. What they did to us, what they made us do....you’re so much better then all of that. We’ve changed Y/N, for the better and you know it...the words can’t break me anymore and you, you’re free.”

“Okay.” Is all you’re able to rasp out before more tears fall willingly from your eyes, tiny water droplets of grief and remorse pattering against his bare chest, Bucky’s heart breaks for your pain and loss, and everything those fuckers at Hydra put you through before your escape to freedom.

He knows how much you hate yourself for all the innocent people you killed, granted not many were adherently innocent, but there where many that died by your hand because wrong place wrong time or by Hydra manipulation. Selling you false secrets that painted some people who were indeed good, as the enemy equal to the worst kinds of humans.

He knows, and he refuses to let you fall into this dark pit of despair, “I love you...okay, Y/N I love you so fucking much.” His words are well heard and received as you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

There he holds you tightly, there he will protect you with his life, and there he will stay with you under the stars until dawn breaks out over the horizon.

-

Tagged:  @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes​ @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94​  @iamasimpingh0e

[grey-water-colors]

After All This Time (Bucky Barnes X Fem!Reader) Part 2

I went ahead and wrote the second chapter, I was so excited. I did a lot of research on PTSD and the triggers. I may not have a full grasp on it, but I hope I at least got some of it right. I feel kinda iffy on writing the characters, but I did my best to stay true to who they are. I hope you like this chapter!

Summary: The real world is a scary place, even more so when you’re alone. You live alone in a apartment filed with the ghosts of your memories. You’ve both changed since you last met your fiancé, but can love mend the gap after all this time.

Pairing: Bucky X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of torture, violence, yelling. Talks about triggers and PTSD. Mentions of death and killing. If there are any that I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 2,492

Part 1

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

“Steve, I don’t understand why you’re dragging me out here to this museum.”

“They told me that they made a new addition to the Captain America exhibit and I didn’t want to go alone.”

Bucky clenched his vibranium hand and continued to follow Steve. “Did they at least tell you what it’s about?”

Steve sighed, “No, they didn’t. I wish they had though, I hate going into these things blind. Who knows what they’ve dug up.

“Steve, did you find it?”

“Uh, yeah Buck. I don’t think you want to see it though. It’s something they had no business digging in”

“What is it Steve. And don’t even think of lying to me, I know you too well.”

Steve sighed and led Bucky to the new exhibit. A memorial just like Bucky’s, but it was dedicated to Y/N L/N.

Bucky scoffed but read it out loud anyways. “Y/N L/N was a childhood friend of both Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Y/N met the two in 1923 and they were close ever since. In 1941 record says that she became engaged to Sargent Barnes, but never married. Y/N was drafted as an Army Nurse but died in Germany in 1944.” A picture of her before the war and in a case were her dog tags, which was weird. If she hadn’t been found, how were her tags here.

Bucky trailed off, the rest just going on about what kind of person she was. They stood in silence for a while, both staring at her picture. Steve finally broke the silence, “How much of her do you remember?”

Bucky looked away and tried to remember the girl in front of him. Flashes of smiles, tears, and laughter floated through his head, but he could only focus on one memory.

“I don’t remember her before the war.” Steve’s head moved to look at Bucky so fast that his neck cracked.

“What do you mean before the war Buck.”

He looked at Steve and backed up until he could collapse on a bench. A deep breath then, “I remember seeing her when I was the Winter Soldier. I vaguely remember a mission, maybe a couple, and then an order. I couldn’t help myself. All I could do was watch as I choked her to death, them dragging her away after declaring her dead.”

He shook his head as if he could erase the memory, make it disappear to never see again.

“If you killed her-“ Steve paused, “If you went on missions with her then she didn’t die in 1944. She was captured by Hydra. Then there could be a possibility that she, well that she could still be alive. Could it be possible that it was staged? Buck is there any chance at all that she could still be alive?”

Bucky shook his head again and looked at his hands. “I felt it Steve, I felt her neck crush. There’s no way she survived that.”

He took a deep sigh and felt the world shift, his heart plummeted to the ground as he realized the full gravity of what happened. “Oh god. Oh god, I killed her. I killed my fiancé, Steve.”

Steve just sat down next to Bucky, still in shock. She had been a good friend to Steve. They had come from similar backgrounds, hell they had grown up together, she understood him in a way that Bucky never could have at the time. She had been there when needed and even when she wasn’t. A ray of sunshine in a dreary New York. He had taken a picture of them after Bucky had proposed. They were all so happy.

It shook Steve to his core that Hydra had gotten their hands on her. He couldn’t imagine the horrors that she had gone through, might still be going through much like his best friend. Was she as much of a shell as Bucky?

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

It felt good to walk into her apartment without having to break in. She had hassled every office and bank that had her name in its databases to get her back as a registered live, human being. And to get electricity and water going to her place.

She had already been living in the apartment, but now she could cook, light a fire, and make noise. With her accounts opened again, she bought a couple pairs of clothes to wear while she cleaned the place.

Starting with the kitchen she cleaned every surface, threw away all the canned food that had been left behind.

By the time she had finished cleaning, she was physically exhausted, but she couldn’t bring herself to sleep in the master bedroom. She had managed to turn off her emotions for the day. No tears had been spilled because there had been work to get done. But her new superpower didn’t work now that she had nothing to do. Y/N stood in the middle of the living room desperately trying to stuff her emotions back into the box they had been in, but they had seen their chance and taken it.

Tears filled her eyes and she took her first real look around the place she had once called home. It was like she had never left at all. A place for everything and everything in its place. She turned to face the worn leather wingback. The thick blanket draped over the back just like it always had. She shuffled over to the chair and sat down in it. The leather was cold but familiar with the smell of her life before the war. Ghosts of days past floated through the air around her. She curled up in the chair, thick blanket pulled over her.

Things had been so easy then, and it would be so easy now to just fall back into that time when everything was perfect. Except the person that had helped make it perfect wasn’t here. A tear fell from her cheek onto the leather, and she quickly brushed it off not wanting to ruin the chair.

As she was wallowing in self-pity, a fight broke out on the street below her window, voices piercing the air and pulling her back to a place she never wanted to go again.

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

Project Cecilia had become a nightmare. A nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. The project was a testing ground of trial and error. They tested the trial serums, triggers, enforcers, and everything else to make sure that they wouldn’t damage whoever took the role of Winter Soldier. The project was named after the scientist who did most of the testing.

The serums were bad, it felt like lighting her blood on fire, like hell itself was inside her. But trigger testing was far worse. For every test or experiment, a trigger experiment came after. Is sound more effective than smell? Are words better than sounds? What kind of words work better than others?

Trial and error for over 30 different types of triggers until they settled on a list of words that would mean something to the Winter Soldier. Her mind was blocked off so carefully that she couldn’t remember anything before the last trigger.

Here she was, testing how much electricity a super soldier could take before things started to shut down. And then the doctor walked in. Constantine Cecilia was the man who haunted her dreams. She couldn’t ever quite remember who he was, but somehow she knew that when he arrived, things would be bad.

“How is our little rabbit doing today? I believe a congratulations are in order, you finished testing.”

He put on plastic gloves and his assistant walked up to them both. “She’s due for sound this time.”

The doctor smiled. “Good good.”

Things were going well; the set-up went smoothly. She was ready to receive the trigger, the thing her mind would take as a trauma to seal away all of the bad.

But then a fight broke out, and then people were yelling, screaming at each other. The trigger was set.

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

Shuri had done her best at getting rid of the physical effect of the triggers, and by best, she was completely successful. Unfortunately, there was still an emotional effect that came with the triggers. Certain smells, sounds, colors, and even sometimes emotions would send her spiraling into a memory. Most were memories that terrified her, they brought her back to Hydra and their torture. Some were good, like remembering life before the war.

They happened less at home, surrounded by memories of a past that never hurt. The outside world was what tortured her. Going outside was like sentencing herself to relive the worst of her life.

And she remembered it all. Hydra had done such a good job of playing Tetris with her brain that every time that Shuri released a trigger, she remembered everything. Y/N bet that Dr. Cecilia was laughing in his grave at her tragedy.

Y/N fell asleep under the thick blanket on the chair of the man she had loved more than anything else in the whole world.

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

Y/N decided to visit the Veterans Center, hoping that they magically had the cure for what Shuri called PTSD. She walked inside and was met with the smell of burnt coffee and laughter down the hall. She followed the noise until she came to what looked like a break room, or a very poor excuse for a kitchen.

A tall man took notice of her and he excused himself to go talk to her.

“Hi, can I help you?”

“I, uhh, came here to talk to someone, hopefully.” Y/N cursed herself for feeling so small. She was a veteran after all. She just fought in a different war.

“Are you a vet?”

“Yes?”

He smiled, “Well then welcome. My name is Sam Wilson. I help run this place. Mostly I work with the people though. Business isn’t really my style.”

Y/N gave a weak smile.

Sam spoke up again, much to her relief. “Why don’t we go somewhere to talk so we aren’t standing in a door way.”

She merely nodded and followed Sam to a room with foldable chairs and a couple beat up sofas.

After they had sat down, and awkward silence filled the air. Sam cleared his throat, “So what’s your name?”

Y/N took a deep breath and “My name is Y/N”

Sam nodded. “What war did you serve in Y/N?”

She froze, of course she could just answer him. She heard there was a whole museum dedicated to the two oldest people on the planet, so why was it so hard?

“You don’t have to tell me if you aren’t comfortable with it. I’m not going to force you into anything here. It’s a safe place.” The genuinely caring smile on his face helped her relax.

“I fought in World War II.”

Sam looked startled for a second. “Excuse me?”

“I was a nurse with the Red Cross in World War II.”

She watched as Sam’s shoulders dropped. Y/N prepared to fight, to tell him that it was true, without going through the horrors that she had witnessed. She prepared to give him the riot act like she had for every person who hadn’t believed her at the bank and social security office.

Instead, he started laughing. “Man, I wonder how many more of you there are out there,” Sam said between breaths.

The look of confusion on her face must have put more puzzle pieces together for him at how lost she really was.

“You… You actually believe me?”

“Yeah I do! I work with the other two.”

She suddenly felt cold, like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. While Shuri had told her about James, or Bucky, and about Steve and how they both lived in New York in the Avengers Compound, it had never occurred to her that they were so close. So close, yet so far away. Her heart dropped.

“How exactly do you know them? You said you worked with them, so you must be an Avenger I suppose.”

“How much do you know about this time and place?”

She felt, for the first time since she left Wakanda, that someone understood. Only a fraction maybe, but an understanding all the same. Sam somehow knew that she didn’t know much about the present she found herself in. She didn’t really care to learn either though, the world was scary, and she had to face it alone for the first time in her life.

“Not much. I’ve only been off ice for about 9 and a half months now. Most of that was spent in Wakanda, while Shuri worked on getting rid of my triggers.” The more she talked the more Sam’s face filled with understanding and horror and that scared her.

“You were captured by Hydra weren’t you?”

All she could do was nod, her head held low.

“I won’t ask about that. I know better than that. I can’t even begin to imagine the horrors you’ve been through.

“Well, I’m the Falcon, I fly and I see things really well with my goggles. Other than that I’m just a human, no serum or anything.”

It was like all she could do was nod her head, she had been robbed of words.

“Would it be ok if I went home?”

“Of course! Nothing is keeping you here. I’m glad we met, and you’re more than welcome to come by anytime at all. We do close at 9 pm, but here’s my phone number if you need anything after those hours.”

More nodding. Y/N rushed home.

The first thing she did was climb into the chair, drape the blanket over her, and tell a ghost of what happened.

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

“Sam are you ok? You seem distracted today”

“Yeah. Yeah man I’m good.” Sam looked at Steve for a minute. “Say have you ever met someone named Y/N L/N? She came into the VA today and when I asked what war she fought in she said WWII. She was captured by Hydra. I didn’t press her on it, she got that same look that Bucky does when it gets brought up.”

Steve froze. “What was her name?”

“Y/N L/N, do you know her?”

“Are you sure about what you told me?”

“Yeah. Why? What’s going on?”

“What did she look like?”

“She had H/L hair and E/C eyes. She was about yay-tall” Sam held up a hand to about her height. “Again, do you know her?”

“I promise I’ll tell you later, but I gotta go.”

Steve took off running through the compound until he got to Bucky’s door. He hadn’t seen Bucky since the museum, but this was important. He pounded on the door, “Buck! Bucky! Open the door!”

A quiet mumbled “Go away Steve” came as a response.

“Bucky,” Steve pleaded. “She’s alive. Sam met her today.”

Silence.

Then the door opened. “Where?”

[alirhi]

okay. let's do this shit.

Guess what, bitches? Mama bear's back and angry all over again. Remember when I said I might dive into a ragepost about how Bucky's treated after completing the one about Loki? This is it. This is the post. Welcome to fucking Thunderdome.

I will actually try to keep it civil. No promises, but I'll try. and I will not be accepting "constructive criticism" about my rage. Just so we're clear.

Got it? Good. Let's dive in.

In case you don't want to read the whole thing (I know I get wordy) here's what this whole post will boil down to: BUCKY NEVER HAD A FUCKING CHOICE. NEVER. NOT ONCE IN HIS ENTIRE ADULT LIFE.

Now, quick reminder: I don't read comics. I know nothing about Bucky's comic canon, except what Sebastian liked to bring up as often as possible during TWS/CW promotions: at some point, Bucky boned Nat. XD Since Bucky only exists as a Marvel property, I won't be bitching about other source material being disrespected like I did with Loki. This is all MCU, my dudes. And honestly? That's enough, because though we don't see nearly enough of Bucky for my liking, we do manage to get a rich, deep backstory to him in the material we're given, partly thanks to better writing in the early days of the MCU, and partly thanks to Sebastian Stan's phenomenal acting. Unlike the writers of the Loki series, Seb knows how to show, not tell. And gods, what stories those eyes show...

Let's start with the army. In an old post illustrating what an absolute BAMF Bucky Barnes truly is, I mistakenly said he enlisted, and a kind soul educated me on the incredible attention to detail Marvel used to pay - in this case, Bucky's ID number. 32557038. As this kind, eagle-eyed soul pointed out to me, the first two digits of that number - 32 - signify that Bucky was drafted, specifically from the NY, NJ, DE area (that last part is rather obvious, as Bucky and Steve are from Brooklyn lol). Bucky didn't choose to go to war. He was drafted. He was forced to fight, or go to prison.

Bucky was born in 1917, which means - again, as someone pointed out to me a while back - he came of age during the Great Depression. As a child, he would likely have seen his parents living comfortably and able to shower each other and him and his sister with gifts and fun memories, and then POOF. Stock market crashes when he's only 12-years-old, and life becomes brutal and painful. He manages to have some fun with his best friend Steve, and spends his teens/early 20s chasing girls and keeping his stupid, stubborn, tiny friend from getting beaten to death.

Steve constantly has something to prove. He's absolutely got what my mom always called "little man's disease", and Bucky's just doing his best not to roll his eyes too much at this asthmatic chihuahua constantly trying to beat up Tibetan mastiffs. While Steve keeps lying on his enlistment forms (an actual crime) trying again and again to get into the army and prove what a badass he is (definitely not), Bucky's had enough trauma and upheaval in his life and he just wants his stupid friend to calm tf down and live. Enjoy the fact that he doesn't have to go to war and get his limbs blown off.

And then he gets fucking drafted. This sweet, resigned realist who knows exactly how dangerous the war really is, is forced to put on a uniform and go fight strangers alongside other strangers thousands of miles from everything he knows. And on his last night of freedom, when he just wants to hang out with his friend, see some cool gadgets, and dance with a pretty girl, his stupid angry chihuahua friend feels the need to lie and try to enlist again.

Okay. Gotta get back on track. Ragepost about mistreatment of Bucky, not how much Steve annoys me. Sorry. Anyway...

Bucky's drafted, accepts his shitty lot with a brave smile, and is shipped off to Europe, where he is captured by HYDRA and presumed by the Allies to be KIA. Instead, he's strapped down, tortured, and given the HYDRA version of the super serum against his will. Steve rescues him, and Bucky knows he can't leave his idiot friend to his own devices to get his head blown off, so he dives right back into the fray. And then he falls off a cliff, loses most of his left arm, and is declared dead...again. This one's pretty damn valid, though lol. Without the serum no one knew he'd been shot up with, there is no way he would have survived that fall.

Here is where Bucky's story gets truly heartbreaking: His autonomy, his ability to consent is stripped from him through electroshock torture/brainwashing. The trigger words are conditioned into him during this process, and boom. Ten words in Russian, and Bucky Barnes is gone. Even the confused, hurting shadow of him is gone, leaving only a perfectly obedient killing machine, with Bucky's pretty face. He's strong as all hell, though, so they can't keep him fully under their control for long, not without more torture, when the disorientation of being fucking frozen wears off on longer missions.

I cannot stress this point enough, guys: Bucky. Had. No. Choice. Not like the draft, where his choices (go and get shot at, refuse and go to jail, or dodge and run to Canada) just suck. No, he literally didn't have a choice. He had his ability to choose stripped from him. If that's too complex a concept to really sink in, try this: His brain was fucking raped. Repeatedly. For decades. Nothing the Winter Soldier ever did was Bucky's fault. Nothing. Ever. Not remotely, no matter how you fucking slice it. Bucky is not an assassin. I almost said "not a killer", but he was a soldier, and a sharpshooter. He definitely killed when he was himself, but that was in a war, not a series of assassinations.

So far, imo, so good. This is just a rundown of Bucky's pre-show backstory. I don't love what he had to suffer, but I do love how it was treated in the movies. People were afraid of him, but when they knew the whole situation, Steve, Nat, and Sam rallied behind him. Natasha had plenty of reason to want the Winter Soldier dead; he'd tried to kill her multiple times and almost succeeded. Sam had no reason to help Bucky at all; he didn't know him, didn't trust him, and again, TWS had tried to kill him. But he stood by Steve, and when Bucky showed the clear difference between himself and TWS, Sam stood by him, too, and fought alongside him.

And it's very realistic, imo, that Tony didn't give a single fuck that Bucky had no choice. He watched this man murder both of his parents on tape. If TWS had killed my dad and I saw proof of it, I'd try to kill Bucky, too. Grief wins out over logic. Most emotions usually do. And that's a very important point we're going to come back to in a few minutes.

Bucky was really only in like ten minutes at most of IW and Endgame, and for multiple reasons I hate those movies, so I'm just gonna skip them, kay? Kay. On to the main event!

Here's where I get pissed off. Even if I didn't have an unhealthy attachment to this character, or the depth of appreciation for his tragic backstory that I do, the lack of continuity between the movies and the show alone would still piss me off. It always does. Don't even get me started on Joss "Continuity? What continuity?" Whedon and his (iconic, but flawed) shows. Ahem. Back on track...

Let me just get one little thing out of the way real quick: I fucking LOVE The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I love it. This show amazed me when I first watched it, and I still love it after many more viewings lol. I have only ever watched it all the way through without skipping over as much John Walker shit as possible the one time lol but I love how Sam and Bucky interact, and I fucking adore how Sam's arc was treated. I just wish they'd show the same care and attention to Bucky.

Because what they did to Bucky in this show is a fucking travesty. There was a tiny ray of hope in the pilot, when he called out Dr. Bitchface for being a terrible shrink. I thought that would be the start of him realizing he needed to find someone else and ignore the damaging shit that woman was telling him. But...nope. No such luck.

The show really had a strong start, I'll give it that. We see Bucky having nightmares of his time as TWS and struggling to hide how his traumatic memories are affecting him as he tries to live in the world again. He befriends the father of one of HYDRA's victims, which can't be good for Bucky (and we're shown it's definitely not when he sees the shrine in Yori's home to his late son) but it's sweet, how he's trying to connect and reach out to someone who's hurting and lonely.

They drop the ball a little with the whole... Bucky can hack a fucking car, but can't figure out Tinder thing. Had they just run with the fandom interpretation of the tiger photos line, that it shows that Bucky is bi and left it at that, I'd have been okay with it (and no, that is not because I ship Sam/Bucky. it's because Bucky is and always has been a certified nerd who loves technology and has consistently shown very little issue learning to use new gadgets). The outdated flip phone he handed his terrible court-mandated shrink was a burner; I liked that theory when I read it, especially since it's the only time we see him even holding a phone that old lol. This all could have fit the "Bucky is a sassy bisexual nerd" narrative and it'd be okay. Instead, the director was like "NOOOOOO that line was just to show how old he is and how he can't figure out all this newfangled technology!" Woman, you had him remotely driving someone else's vehicle with a tablet. That is NOT a man who can't figure out a damn smart phone!

But that's just a minor annoyance. What fills me with absolute rage is how everyone - not just the shitty therapist who lashes out at and purposely triggers her traumatized patients, but EVERYONE - Sam, Zemo, people who should fucking know better ALL treat him like he's a psychopath and a ticking time bomb. Like he chose to take the serum and he chose to kill for HYDRA, and he's just seen the error of his ways. *barf*

Bucky in the movies is established to be a victim, through and through. His guilt over what he was forced to do is natural, and that he sees himself as a monster makes sense... but that doesn't mean it's correct. The one and only thing I ever liked about Steve Rogers is at least he got it. He pointed out that none of it was Bucky's fault, he tried to show him that he was worth saving. That's the other reason I refuse to talk about Endgame. This post will get a WHOLE LOT LONGER and a lot fucking angrier if I open that door.

Zemo supposedly knows everything about HYDRA and super soldiers... So why does he treat Bucky like he's a corrupt serial killer? (this, for the record, is why I don't like Zemo) Why does he never point out that Bucky was given the serum against his will, or that his actions, when he had control of them, proved that he was never corrupted? Bucky never wanted to become superhuman. Bucky didn't even want to fucking fight!

Sam, despite constantly resisting the label, is shown very clearly to be Bucky's friend. By episode 3, he cares. He worries about how Bucky is getting lumped in with the other super soldiers in Zemo's speech... But he never really defends him. He says "what about Bucky?" but he doesn't point out that Bucky's a good man, he's fought so hard to help people, he does everything he can to avoid killing... And that fucking speech in episode 5. I was with him on "you gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." I was like "YEAH! Tell him, Sam! Bucky, you're WORTH SAVING, boo! Your value does not hinge on someone else's opinion of you!" And then... Sam dropped the ball.

He not only continued the disturbing pattern of victim-blaming in this show, and in Marvel/Disney properties in general, but he gave really dangerously bad advice! No one in their right mind, mental health professional or no, would EVER tell a traumatized former assassin (whether he was responsible for his actions or not) to go confront his victims' families out of the blue with no warning and no one to mediate and keep things from going to shit. Yori already knew his son had been murdered because he was in the "wrong place, wrong time." How is it being "of service" to tell him you're the one who killed him?! Remember how I said Tony's reaction to learning the full truth about his parents' deaths was valid and would be an important point later? Hi! Welcome to later. THAT is the natural reaction to facing the man who murdered your loved one(s). And even if Yori didn't get angry and lash out, HOW IS IT "HELPING" HIM OR BRINGING HIM "CLOSURE" TO KNOW THAT HIS FRIEND KILLED HIS FUCKING SON?!?!?! This man befriended him, bonded with him, watched him grieve... And now he's learning this is the man who caused all his pain and heartache to begin with? That is so toxic and psycho I just... I can't even... UGH.

And then there's the equally toxic and damaging "deeply traumatized person just needed a stern talking to and a hug to be ALL BETTER AGAIN" ending. I loved seeing Bucky happy and socializing, but it was too soon, and it was unearned. And it sends a fucking awful message to people actually struggling with PTSD, and to their loved ones who don't know how to help them. Heaping more blame on them and then hugging it out is NOT helpful!

This show could have been damn near perfect with just two changes. That's all. Just two. 1) Someone, anyone, bringing up the reasons why Bucky was never a villain in his presence. Someone being in his corner and reminding him, like Steve did, that it wasn't his fault and he's not going to "snap". 2) More time devoted to Bucky's healing. Actual fucking healing, not the shit they tried to pass off as a magic fix-all. He can have his happy barbecue moment, just don't frame it as "everything's great now!" Healing isn't linear, and there will be both good days and bad. Some of the most fragile people in the world have the brightest smiles.

If we get a season 2, which this amazing show absolutely deserves, and they address this stuff, all will be forgiven in my book. Expanding on his story and his journey toward healing will help to reframe that "happily ever after" garbage as something more realistic. But as it stands now... Fuck Marvel.

[everafterkeiji]

Song: Certain Things by James Arthur

Summary: When the setter's decision led him to a war with his heart.

Pairings: Keiji Akaashi x fem! reader

Word count: 5.3k

Genre: angst

A/N: i used to listen to this song nonstop and it just suited how sad this is so no happy endings for this one🤺

"Keiji!"

You watch as she runs up to him, engulfing him in the sweetest hug you could ever imagine. How you envy the feeling of being welcome in his arms. His eyes soften at the sight of her, as she rambled on how amazing he was. He gives her his heart fluttering smile as he lets his palm set on her shoulder, kindly thanking her for watching and supporting him throughout the entire game.

Did your shouts of love become silent to him?

She grabs his towel, patting it lightly on his forehead as he blushes finding the gesture extremely embarassing for the girl he longs for to just wipe away his sweat. He tries to stop her but she insisted, even grabbing her water bottle and giving it to him, asking him to drink some water and rest.

"Hey hey hey- look at me please."

Bokuto says, coming from behind you. You turn to him with water baring eyes, a heartache eating you up with every second you continue to watch. Bokuto sighs as he pulls you in his arms, his chin resting on your crown, as he caresses your hair as you let out an agonizing sob. Bokuto sees the way Akaashi didn't bother to spare them a glance, as Akaashis overall being was captivated by the girl that was beside him. He coes her, whispering how he's got her and he'll never have the courage to let her go, the way the dark haired boy did.

"We won today yeah? Why don't we celebrate?" Bokuto tries to tone his voice in his usual cheery self but feels defeated when he sees her. Y/N looks up at him, he tenses up as he holds your head, an instinct that you were going to look again. You were mid way into letting your eyes land on them but Bokuto stopped you as he held your face in his palm, looking at you with an expression you were well familiar with.

"Y/N."

" 'Taro, shit I'm sorry!" You shouted before wiping away your eyes as his heart winces seeing his friend poorly attempt to regain the sunshine that she once was. Puffed cheeks, swollen eyes, red tinted nose, what a cruel sight yet she dared to cover all of these with a smile. It was disgusting how she made it look so believable, fooling almost everyone that witnessed her little facade. Bokuto falling for it countless of times but has learned to tell the difference every now and then, fitting in for the spot of her once best friend who knew exactly what she was truly feeling.

Akaashi would've read her like a novel he loved but it seems like it wasn't as timeless anymore.

It was now up to Bokuto to handle the shattered girl, even when her own broken heart pierced through her like a knife everyday.

"I-I know a good place to eat at! Maybe then I can treat you for being my favorite ace?" She offers with a sickening chuckle. She was achingly trying. He only gives her a smile, accepting her efforts of hiding how empty she felt. He lets his arm fall on her shoulders, comforting her with everything he can do.

"Oh! I'd like that, kind of like a double date huh? Seems like I get to treat my favorite setter too!" Akemi states, eyes darting towards Akaashi as he becomes flustered with her words. Bokutos eyebrow furrows, and with a pout he tries to insist that you didn't want her to accompany them, but you let your arm come before him as he questions your decisions.

"Sure! The more the merrier right, Ko?" Akemi claps her hand as she gathers her things, Akaashi doing the same. Bokuto takes notice of your longing gaze as he pulls you with him.

"So is that right? I'm your favorite?" Bokuto teases, as you laugh punching him lightly on his shoulder. He chuckles but was taken by surprise as you wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tip toes to reach him. He immediately wraps his arms around your waist as you pat his hair, nuzzling your face in his neck as you smile, feeling gratitude for an amazing friend like him.

"You were fantastic earlier, I'm sorry for being so-" Bokuto cuts you off with a shout of triumph, making you confused as he pulls away. He wouldn't let her continue her sentence, knowing he couldn't stand hearing her blame herself for something she couldn't handle.

"Ah! What a starter! Thanks Y/N! No wonder I'm the best huh?" He shouts closing his eyes, putting his hands on his hips smiling to himself. You laugh, enjoying how it fed his confidence. Akaashi turns to the two of you watching how Bokuto oddly portray his muscles as you laugh loudly. Akemi smiles beside him, finding the duo quite suited for each other

"They should date! Bokuto makes her so happy!" She claims, as Akaashi blinks, shaking his head turning to meet her green eyes.

"She hates guy who shows off their muscles like that. She think's its a bit cocky." Akemi laughs at Akaashi, since what he said sounded like a known fact.

"Maybe everything can change when she's with him."

She states, making his eyes widen. Impossible. She can't just switch her words just because of Bokuto. He says to himself. Once he hears how genuine your laugh was and realizes that the ace was the cause of it, he stiffens at the thought of the you and the captain together. Akaashi was the one to introduce you to him so it was a surprise you two would come together like that, especially when he felt how Bokuto adjusted to you quite quickly.

"Ooh Y/N likes that color! Will you get it for her, Akaashi?!" Bokuto asks, pointing excitedly at a plush toy. Akaashis blue eyes turned to the location where the finger was pointed and he smiles seeing an immensely cute plush toy he knew you would love but this glee ends when he realizes that Bokuto managed to remember your favorite color.

"Bokuto-san, I'm impressed you knew what she liked." He said with an amused smile. The other boys eyes glimmered in the moonlight, remembering your past conversations with him.

"It's easy! Y/N always talk about many things and it's so freaking awesome. You've known her for the longest time right 'Kaashi? She's so cool." His words bring a smile to the setters lips, loving how Bokuto got along with you so well.

"Oh wait! Akaashi!"

"Yes, Bokuto-san?"

"Well! You've been with her since you were young right? So that means.. you like her!"

Akaashi coughs on his water looking at Bokuto. Bokutos cackle echoed through the air and his words consuming Akaashi's thoughts.

"I do like her but not romantically ok?" He defends, but Bokuto let's out a displeased scoff skipping ahead of the flustered setter. Happily moving knowing he's got him on a hot seat.

"That can change Akaashi!"

And it did.

For Y/N to watch Akemi casually serve Akaashi his food, it was like being tortured in a chamber or watching it to make your brain rot. They look perfect, she thinks. Bokuto was eating happily beside him, and setting aside how hurt she was, she chose to ignore the throbbing of her heart. Akaashi was in front of her as Akemi was in front of Bokuto. The two were in well conversation as Bokuto tried to gather your attention while he brings up how excited he was for a new move.

Dropping your chopsticks, you curse as you got out of your chair to bend down and reach it. Grabbing it in your hands as you look up to see a hand covering the sharp corner of the table. Your eyes follow it and realizing it was Akaashis hand, protecting you if you were to hit your head. This minimal effort was enough to set your soul on fire, admiring how he was able to act so quickly and composed. You return to your seat, Akaashi watching you steadily to make sure you were back. You give him a nod, thanking him for being observant as he smiles to you instead.

Just maybe.

You feel the rising heat on your cheeks as you sip water, hoping it were to ease your frantic heart. You observe Akemi, and painfully suck in the harsh truth that you couldn't deny. Everything that Akaashi has told you about his dream girl, the list of expectations he's had, it was all her. The embodiment of what Akaashi wants to hold, to love and to keep. You hear how her laughter sounded like gentle music, even her personality radiated nothing but sunshine.

All you can do was sigh, when a dream like her already has captured the heart of the young boy you grew to love.

She drops her phone, somewhat mirroring your actions beforehand. Akaashi turns to her immediately, as your heart took another strike seeing him mimic the same actions he had with you. Hand covering the edge, with a gentle hand on her back as she picks up the device leaving you stranded in strings of pain. She smiles at him, casually resting her hand on his as a thank you. Akaashi immediately blushes before placing his other hand on top, eyes lovingly holding onto hers.

The string of hope that you held on for dear life, immediately broke as you let the cup of water fall from your hands, taking an excruciating hit as you were brought back to the silent beating of your heart.

I'm certain that I'm yours.

Or at least I thought.

Bokuto calls your name multiple times as he frantically wipes the spillage of the water that was on the table and on your attire. You felt towels pat your lap gently as Bokuto still continued to put effort in grabbing your attention. Akemi looks at you concerned, worried for whatever thought that you had in mind was enough for you to completely lose your grip on reality.

"Y/N, hey!"

"I didn't think I'd be able to stay with you this long, Y/N." He says with a smile as you walk with him. It was early in the morning, both on your way to school. Coffee in both hands as you give him a pout, finding his statement in a different tone.

"You make it sound like you're unfortunate." You joke as Akaashi laughs beside you, sipping coffee before letting out a satisfied sigh.

"You've been with me even before I got in Fukurodani. I'm just really happy I've found somebody to turn to." You smile as your fingers brush against each other in which at the contact made you both blush. All the tension that was held in the moment was a bunch of unheard confessions, both unwilling to let them speak.

"I'm lucky I have you too, Kei."

"Seems like someone isn't technically happy of sharing the spotlight with me." Akaashi teases pointing at a very sleepy Bokuto who was walking up to you two.You giggle at the setter, while his blue eyes stayed on your smiling lips, relieved that it didn't fail to make him smile as well.

"Y/N."

A stern voice makes your gloomy eyes trail over to a pair of blue ones you were addicted to.

"Y/N? What's wrong with you? You made a mess." He says, completely knocking you off your limit. You stood up, hands on the table with your head down as Bokuto grunts knowing exactly what was bound to happen.

"I'm sorry Akaashi."

"That was reckless. You could've spilled it all over us, even Akemi-"

Bokuto winces when the name slips off of Akaashis lips as you hastily grab your wallet placing the money to Bokuto and mumbling a sorry before rushing to leave, tears falling from your tired eyes once you were out of the restaurant. Bokuto observes the way Akaashis eyes remained enlarged when it hit him how harsh he was. The captain wished that this worry of Akaashi would last long, since this was his first time seeing the setter show any concern for the poor girl in such a long time.

"Bokuto, will she be alright?" Akemi asks him, as he lets out a shrug of defeat. Akaashi bit his lip feeling the responsibility of his actions weigh on both him and the ace. He knew that Bokuto would never be able to comfort her the way he does, and reading her expressions when she left, reassuring her wouldn't be as easy.

Because he was the reason why she was hurting, not even realizing the damage has been done too many times already.

Your feet felt like weights as you ran, feeling the burn of guilt pass through you. On your way to pick up some snacks and refreshments for their match, a certain sight caught your eye leading you to your current decision.

"Yes thank you!" You say with a smile before, leaving the store with the things you bought. You rub your eyes, hating how early you had to catch a bus for their match. This was your only chance to watch them again since you avoided Akaashi for days, making Bokuto your company. You apologized dozens of times to Bokuto for leaving him in an awkward situation. Of course he forgave you, deciding to treat you to a movie instead to erase your worry.

Suddenly a familiar voice spikes up your interest, your head turning left and right to find Akemi. Instead, a tall man walks pass you carrying a bag that you've seen multiple times. You shrug, not wanting to lead to conclusions knowing how Akemi was genuine with her admiration for Akaashi.

"Haru-san!"

Akemi greets, arms wrapped around the waist of the man. You turn to see the two hugging and you gripped the plastic bag in your hands, as Haru places a gentle kiss on her forehead making you stunned even more.

"So where we going later?" He asks, as you lower your head, trying to control your breathing. This is impossible. How could she just lead him on like that! You despised how you weren't able to save Akaashi from the beginning, and now it was your turn to drop a heavy bomb on your best friend.

"We'll meet up later okay? I'll just attend my friend's match."

Friends.

You immediately walked away, weakened at what she just said. No matter shape or form, Akaashi would be hurt, completely. It hurt you that you'd have to see the painful expression on Akaashis face. You bit your lip, trying to avoid the look of dismay on your best friend. You let out a sad sigh as you began to pick up the pace in your walk.

Is it his turn to feel hopeless?

You've tried your best to avoid him. The tension being unresolved between the two of you yet you were happy Akaashi understood why you've created distance between you and him.

Knowing the two were inseparable, you were the one to adjust whenever Bokuto would be heading to practice or even going to lunch. Although, Akaashi gave you some space knowing his outburst completely set a different side to your friendship. You two have never really fought in such a way, he knew even if it was a small fight there was a distinct aura that surrounded the two of you. Beyond what happened, he knew you were facing some other problem that he was clueless of and him adding to your issues wasn't helping the both of you.

So whenever the dark haired boy saw you bid goodbye to Bokuto whenever he was on his way to approach the captain, it stung in his heart.

Akaashi sighs beside Bokuto. Koutaro was prepping himself up completely, pressing his palms to his cheeks. They were up to play soon and the blue eyed boy wonders if she would be able to make it back in time. While he wonders about you, his mind swerves to Akemi. He finds himself foolishly smiling at the thought of them holding hands at the restaurant so he looks at his phone, finding her contact and glancing at their photo.

Next to her contact was yours, which he was hesitant to tap on. He shuts off his phone before seeing Bokuto wave frantically with a smile on his face. Akaashi looks at you, eyes shining knowing you made it just in time to bid him goodluck and hopefully to clear up the quarrel. You felt your heart leap with every step, a war in your head in how you were going to tell him. Your hands tightened as you walk over to them, Bokuto patting your head showing how delighted he was that you were there. Akaashi wonders if you could even spare him a glance.

" 'Taro! I have your snacks but- promise me you'll be the best out there and maybe I'll treat you later!" You say as Bokuto punches the air, his mind in a frenzy at the scenario in his head of eating his favorite food.

You turn to Akaashi, shakily grabbing his arm as he stiffens at your sudden contact. He looks at your weary eyes as you desperately tried to calm down.

"Keiji, can we talk?" Why did you say it like that? He asks himself. His name has never sounded so troublesome before. He fidgets with his fingers as he trails behind you as you lead him to a more private place. You felt the shivers reach your body, immediately bringing coldness at how anxious you were. This was the first time in days where you two would be able to converse properly again.

As you make your way to a corner, Akaashis feet was tapping furiously, scared of what you were going to say. He waits for you to speak as he watches you take a deep breath as you hold his arm once again. Softer than before but it felt like a desperate touch.

"Kei- you do trust me right?" Akaashi nods immediately, lips frowning at the tone of her voice. Is she going to leave me? Please say no. He wanted to get this over with so he wonders if you were just going to rip off the bandaid and end the friendship even if he was willing to apologize multiple times. But then, how could you end it just because he was right about being reckless?

"Akemi- she has a boyfriend, Keiji-"

"You came.. to tell me this?"

"Akaashi- I-I know you like her but"

"God Y/N how could you.." Akaashi exclaims as you aggresively run your fingers through your hair, before grabbing his jacket trying to make him stay. He stands there in shock, as rage and envy flow through him overwhelming him in the process. His hands form a ball as it tightens quickly at the thought of how Akemi was just being nice all the time.

Akaashi looks at you only to find truth in your eyes but his heart betrays the both of you, now broken and in denial that the girl he adored was dating somebody that wasn't him.

"Akaashi, please listen to me! I don't want you to get hurt..believe me!" You pleaded, throwing away how hurt you were from the drastic change in his tone.

"Hurt? So you think you're being considerate then?" Akaashi questions her with spite in his tone. His demeanor towering over her as she crumbles at his voice. Akaashis heart coming back to the reason why it was guarded in the first place.

"Keiji.. you know that's not what I mean!" You defended yourself as Akaashi scoffs. It was mocking you how composed he looked yet the tone of his voice was laced with pure hatred. Deep down, Akaashi accepted the fact that he could never really win Akemi but he was blinded by the pain that you brought him.

"You're just jealous, Y/N. Stop lying." He continued, making you shake your head as you tried to grasp his jacket again but this time your hands barely touched the fabric making your heart gasp at how Akaashi was out of your grip.

"I didn't know you could pull off being a liar, and I don't see myself being a friend with a trait like yours."

The tears flowed down your cheeks as you let out a shakey breath, in disbelief at what he just said. I'm not lying, Akaashi. You promised me you trusted me.

"You said you t-trusted me, Akaashi! How could that change for you!" You shouted as he was brought back to Akemis words.

"Maybe everything can change."

"You promise I'll be okay?"

"I've got no reason to doubt you." He says smiling as you lean your head on his shoulder, tracing random lines and doodling away on his soft skin. Under the beautiful tree, with purple painted skies with clouds up above. After a stressful day on your side, the setter took notice of how you've let yourself fall onto your insecurities once again so he took it upon himself and brought you to a silent place to show you how you shouldn't worry about anything, comforting you with his kind words and him trusting you that would be able to regain your old self again.

"Certain things hurt and you're my only virtue." You confess as his heart spikes up its speed with your response. You sat up, gazing at the houses who seemed too tiny from your distance. You held your knees to your chest with lips formed in a relaxed state as you lean on your arm that was on top of your knee.

And I'm virtually yours.

Akaashi remained with his back on the grass as he admired your features wondering how you could ever put yourself down, when you took away his words whenever you were with him, hiding it perfectly and keeping his admiration far from you to avoid the continous breaking of his heart knowing he'd betray your beloved friendship.

I adore you, he thinks to himself as the only thing that reflected in his eyes were the girl he's lost to his wrong decision.

"You changed and it's disappointing. All because of jealousy? I've been with you for so long, how did you become selfish?"

Selfish. I must've been crazy then, you think. You let out a bitter chuckle, Akaashi frightened at this side of you you've yet to show him before. It was like poison consuming your body, in which the poison came in the form of his words.

"All I've ever been is selfless, god I even let you fall for someone else when I've been in love with you for years."

You took a step back as Akaashi stood where he was, feeling as if his feet couldn't leave the floor as he lets himself drown in your confession. He gulps as he was struck with regret since he had no idea how to respond to you. His eyes trail to the floor as he struggles to find the words.

Then the battle began, between in what he knows whose right for you and his heart who wanted no one else but you.

He was miserable. A side of him wanted to say how much he's waited for you to bid those words to him and claim that he's felt the same as you, but the other side wanted to badly decline knowing he was stuck in choosing you and Akemi. Akemi who has effortlessly tugged on his heart strings and gained it with her gentleness and beautiful personality, and you who's promised to stay forever and loved him longer than anyone else has.

Don't make me choose on who I love more.

He knew the time would come where his decisions would bare another heavy mark on him. He's already made a terrible one by putting his heart in the hands of Akemis instead of yours. He wishes there wasn't a deadline to this difficult decision, but to him it seemed like if he doesn't choose now, he'd feel the pain everyday.

"AKAASHI! LET'S GO!" Bokuto screams as Akaashi turns his eyes to you in a swift move, finding your eyes covered in tears but how come you looked like you felt nothing? You sniffle as you give him a warm smile, a reaction he didn't want to see knowing it wasn't a smile that could bring him joy.

"Goodluck, Akaashi."

He takes a step forward trying to capture you in his arms but Bokuto grabs him by the arm pulling him away from you, Bokuto saying goodbye to you as well and reminding you the promise you gave him. That moment, all that Akaashi wanted to was run and replace the silence he gave you. You deserved to hear what he truly felt, but his words were trapped as he still had to examine if he was choosing the right ones.

But he ran out of time.

-

The game starts and he prays for his performance to be at his usual best. Once Bokuto had the setter to himself, Akaashi couldn't hold back and told him what happened. Bokuto felt horrible for both of you, while feeling revengeful to Akemi since he too fell for her sweet gestures to Akaashi thinking that she actually liked him. Importantly, Bokuto badly wanted to be there for you. He knew how much you liked him so for you to confess so suddenly during your argument, it had the grey haired boy worried about you.

He couldn't blame Akaashi, as much as he wanted to. He acted in a way because he was suffering, but they didn't realize they both were. Though, he wished Akaashi could've treated her better, believed her. Bokuto believed her the minute Akaashi told him, and it was because he trusted her completely and she wouldn't speak out without a reason meanwhile Akaashi chose to hold onto denial.

And as they play, Akaashi looks over to the stands, searching for you when he came upon Akemis. The pretty girl with an arm wrapped around her shoulder as Akaashi loses the ball in his hands from the view.

"Akaashi, please listen to me! I don't want you to get hurt..believe me!"

"You said you t-trusted me, Akaashi! How could that change for you!"

Like the ball falling to the floor, his heart went along with it.

Scream. That's what he wanted to do. How absurd of him to get it wrong twice, there shouldn't even be any room for mistakes. I can't believe I lost her..again. Akaashi thinks. There was a painful ache in his heart, yet he couldn't set it free not wanting to let down the team. Especially in a match like this. He wanted to break, to land on the ground and let his consciousness scold him for hours. He deserved it. He should've learned but he was trapped inside a world where he thought Akemi would've been his everything, when he was blind to how powerful his love for you all this time.

Come back to me.

"Akaashi!" Bokutos hand reach his shoulder and all he could do was stare at a pair of blank eyes. Before the ace could ask what happened, Akaashi was clutching on to Bokutos jersey harshly taking the older boy by surprise.

"She was right." Akaashi utters as he points to the crowd making Bokuto squint just to find where Akemi was. Once he finds them, he sighs sadly before trying to come up with a response to cheer the boy up. It was obvious that Akaashi was too affected to perform properly. Lip quivering as if his world was destroyed twice.

"Doesn't that mean the only thing you can come back to is Y/N?"

Akaashi looks up to him, confused. Bokuto patted the boys shoulder with a soft smile.

"Look over there." This time, it was Bokutos turn to point to the other side of the stands to see you glancing over them. Akaashis eyes glimmered at the sight of you, like life was brought to him in an instant. Happiness couldn't be the only word to describe his emotions.

You were watching.

And he was going to win. Just for you.

This brings him a massive wave of energy, not digging into his thoughts. You smile wiping your heavy eyes seeing him back to his usual self. In his heart he was happy but a mistake shouldn't be rewarded by a smile.

Sticking to his promise, they won but an unfamiliar feeling sets in his skin making him stop in his tracks making Bokuto look behind him to see Akaashi with his hand on top of his chest and eyes straight to the floor. Bokuto grips the phone in his hand, biting his lip and looking down, his heart aching as well.

"Bokuto-san, where is she?" His voice cracks, a tear finally escaping his eyes. He lets out a soft sniffle looking everywhere for a trace of you. Bokuto just shakes his head as a response and Akaashis eyes widen as he harshly wipes away his tears with the sleeve of his jacket. Written in his lips and eyes, Akaashi was exhausted. At first, he thought that letting go of his emotions would be the answer but now he was letting them free yet he didn't wanna scream anymore. He already felt his throat dry at the realization.

"Doesn't that mean the only thing you can come back to is Y/N?"

You sank in your seat, numb to how wet your cheeks were from the continous flow of your tears. Your chest was heaving up and down but your eyes were already closed with tight lips pressed into a line. There were certain things you wish you could've done, but staying wasn't an option when you've gone through multiple battles already. This was the last straw.

Even if you did wanted to fight for him, would he do the same?

You let out a sigh as you open your eyes seeing the road and reminiscing on your last walk with Akaashi.

"What's her name again?" You ask, kicking a rock to the side before shoving your hands inside the pocket of your blazer. Akaashi smiles out of bliss at the thought of her smile and once you've got a glimpse of his expression, you question the drop in your heartbeat as you see him blush before fidgeting with his fingers.

"Akemi." He says, his heart beating loudly. Saying her name already brought the setter in touch with his emotions. It was unlikely for him to feel his heart flutter, but being around Akemi brought him to smile whenever she was there, get anxious to respond to her, and get a flush on his cheeks at the thought of her moments with him.

The name rings in your ears as you were greeted by the silencing beat of your heart. You watch as he turns to you since you've trailed behind him. You visualize how you've seen him with Akemi during lunch and that's when you knew.

It's never going to be me, is it?

"Let's go, Bokuto-san." Bokuto bit his lip, waiting for you to go to them and proving him it was all a prank.

"Akaashi-"

"She left already and I-" His voice breaks making Bokuto gaze at him in pain.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make her stay, Akaashi." Bokuto whispers. Akaashi drags his sleeve to his eyes again, hating how his eyes grew heavy with the tears that escaped his sorrowful blue ones. With a tragic wound embedded in his heart, he spoke.

"I couldn't either."

[scarletdawnxx-blog]

Nightmare Chapter 3 Continuation of Bucky Barnes x Reader

You sat crossed legged on Bucky’s bed, a pillow across your lap, which Bucky’s head laid upon.

 “Whatever you hear, don’t interrupt, don’t enter the room.” You told Steve who was standing over the two of you. 

“That doesn’t make me feel good,” Bucky grumbled. 

“It will be fine, but this will take a lot of concentration and it can’t be broken. If I pull out of his mind part way through, things could go,” You paused trying to find the right words, you could feel the nervousness in both of them. “Well not like how we would like them.” You finished. Steve nodded and left you to it, closing the door behind him. 

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Bucky asked. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Of course, do you still want to go through with this?” He simply nodded. 

You took a deep breath, placing your hands on either side of his head. Closing your eyes, you slipped into his mind. You instantly felt like you had just been dropped in a vast, churning sea, finding it hard to find your way up.

 Concentrating harder, you searched for those memories from so long ago, when Hydra had first taken him. You could feel him fighting you, trying to push those memories further from you. But you followed that darkness pulling you deeper. There was so much darkness, and despair. Your heart felt like it was being ripped from your chest from all the pain. Sweat started to bead on your brow as you witnessed memory after memory, dark and cold and pain in all of them. What was worse was truly seeing what Bucky had endured. The brainwashing had indeed turned his body and mind into a perfect, obedient weapon, he truly had no control and had to sit back and watch himself commit all these terrible crimes, aware of everything he was doing but powerless to stop it, screaming trying to wake himself out of it. Tears were in both your eyes and you continued in deeper until finally you found them. The trigger words rooted deep into him. You knew this part was going to be painful for both of you. The words almost taking on a life of their own and digging deeper, not wanting to be removed. You were hoping to trick them, make them think you were alike.

Bucky’s breathing had become erratic, gritting his teeth down, trying not cry out. You couldn’t take this pain away, not while you were so deep in it with him, all your focus and power being used to pull these words out by the root. You’re not sure how long you were in there, or who the screams were coming from by the end, but you had pulled everything from his mind except one. Something you weren’t quite expecting. A kill safe word, to neutralize him in case he had gotten out of hand in those early days. You almost laughed when you saw the word flash in your mind. Sputnik. Say that word and he would fall into a deep sleep, reverting him back to Bucky from the Winter Soldier. You had a decision to make, do you leave it, in case it all your work was for nothing and you needed to stop him from hurting the others. Did they know about the safe word? Did Bucky? Surely it would have been talked about if the team knew. Bucky soon started thrashing under you and the word slipped from your grasp. You soothed his mind as you made your way back out, not fading out the memories from Hydra, you had talked and the info those memories gave was too vital to remove, but you unhitched the emotions from them, took away the guilt. You could feel his own sense of calm over taking yours and something else, something you hadn’t felt when you first entered his mind. A warm glowing feeling. It had been so small it had been swallowed by everything else, but now, you could feel it wholly. It felt like someone calling you home. It was all safe and good and love, you realized. He loved someone. You didn’t pry further, he deserved some secrets. You gently removed your hand from him and wiped your tear-stained face. Bucky still lay there, having fallen into a calm sleep, his mind exhausted. You opened his bedroom door to see Steve, Natasha and Sam sitting outside. 

“How is he?” Steve asked concerned jumping up and peering over your shoulder into the room. 

“Sleeping.” You said quietly looking back at him over your shoulder. 

“Do you think it worked?” he asked as you closed the door behind you. 

“I think so, we will need to test it later, but now, let him rest. His mind will need time.” You said wrapping your arms around yourself feeling cold, deep in your bones. “How long was I in there?” 

“It’s been hours, we weren’t concerned until the screams started.” Natasha said standing up from her spot on the floor. “What happened in there?” she asked concerned.

“Let’s go down to the kitchen and talk, I could really use something to eat.” You told them jerking your head in that direction. They quietly nodded and the group of you made your way to the kitchen. Hours must have passed because as you approached the kitchen one of the many staff members was already preparing dinner. You settled yourself into a chair, Steve and Sam joining you, while Natasha busied herself making a cup of tea. The men just stared at you waiting for you to tell them what happened. 

“It was difficult, the trigger words were deep rooted and had almost taken on a life of their own, they fought me, not wanting to be removed, but I think I did it. It was painful, for both of us.” You finished rubbing your arms, trying to warm yourself. 

“How are you not exhausted?” Sam asked. “Normally you would be wiped out after using them for such an extended period of time.” 

“I mean, I am tired, but I don’t feel drained. I guess all that training is paying off.” You shrugged your shoulders. Not really having an explanation. 

“Or you are becoming more powerful than you thought you could be.” Natasha said setting a cup of hot tea in front of you. Taking it in your hands welcoming the warmth it gave you. That was a scary thought. How long before it got to be to much for you, before you may not be able to control it anymore, before someone decided to use it for their own gain. 

“I think it would be best for everyone to not let that kind of news getting out,” Steve said leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

 You nodded in agreement. It was your deepest fear, not that you would ever let them know that. You thought back on the paper you had read about genetic mutations, about the professor who had written the paper. Perhaps you should reach out to him. See if he had the answers, you were looking for. You looked at the people around you, they al l had explanations for their powers, Steve and Bucky with their super serum, Sam and Tony with their tech, Nat with her years of training and abuse in the red room. You were surrounded by gods and people exposed to elements that changed them, but nothing like that had ever happened to you. Just one day it fully awoke inside of you and now, your powers were taking off faster than you could really keep up with them, especially now that you were flexing that muscle more and more.

  When Bucky finally emerged hours later, he found you sitting alone, the rest of the team having left for various task around the compound. Sitting around waiting for Bucky to wake up wasn’t helping anyone. But you had drifted so far off in your own mind they had left you to it, said you had done enough. 

“Y/N” he said quietly, trying not to startle you. 

“Hey Barnes, How are you feeling?” you asked giving him a small smile. 

“You walked around my brain and I still can’t get you to call me Bucky,” he teased trying to make light of the whole situation. 

“It’s not my fault that you have a ridiculous nickname.” You retorted and he sat down next to you. “But really, how are you feeling?” you asked again placing a hand on his arm, genuine concern etched on your face. 

“I feel fine, lighter I guess, like I don’t have the weight of all those years on me.” He replied looking at your hand. You pulled it back quickly, not sure if after everything he was okay with the contact. “I’m guessing it worked then? What you did?” he asked still not really meeting your eyes, afraid of what he would see there. Disgust? Pity? Hate? Not knowing your heart ached to hold him close and not let him go. 

“I think so but there is really only one way to find out. I know the words, we need to see if they still awaken what was buried deep in you.” You stood and made your way to the window, the sky turning shades of coral and lilac from the setting sun. “Whenever you’re ready that is.” You added turning slightly back to look at him over your shoulder. He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. 

“No time like the present right? We are this far down already, time to finish it.” Bucky replied and you turned to fully look at him. He was scared, you could feel it.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you gather the team to the interrogation rooms?” You asked the A.I. not looking away from Bucky. She located each member of the team on compound grounds and you and Bucky made your way towards the rooms you had been avoiding but it would be the safest place, nothing he could really break in there. 

“So, we are really doing this?” Tony asked leaning against the far back wall of the observation room. 

“He says he wants to get it over with,” You replied to Tony, seeing Bucky sitting in the room by himself. He looked so tired, you could see the extended years on him, how old his soul felt. 

“I still say we should restrain him, you know, in case it didn’t work.” 

“Absolutely not,” You clipped at him in a harsh tone. You knew Bucky had endured all of that torture while being strapped down and you wouldn’t let that happen to him again. Tony just threw his arms up in defeat. “Besides, Steve will be in there with me, in case something goes wrong.” You looked to Steve and he nodded, you both entering the room with Bucky. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y activate barn door protocol.” Stark Said and the facility locked down. Bucky looked to you and Steve.

“Just a precaution,” Steve said in a reassuring manner placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky half smiled, trying not to show his worry. “If you aren’t ready to do this we don’t have to do it right this second. No one would blame you if you weren’t ready. If you still needed time Buck.” Steve told him. It was true, the whole team knew that this would be hard for him, all expect Tony who just wanted it over with. 

“No, Y/N worked to hard to not test it.” Bucky said finally looking at you. He could see it on you too, the worry and fear. It matched his own. But you were afraid for a different reason, you were afraid you had failed him, that you put his mind through all of that for nothing, that you couldn’t save him. All he saw was fear that the Winter Soldier and all he had done was in this small room with her, with only Steve standing between her and possible death. He quickly looked away. “Let’s get this over with,” he said straightening himself and swallowing down his fear, hardening himself against the emotions rolling around inside of him.

 You wanted to say something but words had left you, what would you say to him anyways, the way he looked at you, it made your mouth go dry, gone were the feelings of friendship, the intimacy you had shared not but a few nights ago holding him tight after he had agreed to try this and it was replaced by something you couldn’t quite place. Everything he was feeling was so jumbled around. 

“Желание” you began and he stiffened. “ржавый, семнадцать,” you continued. Bucky fought against the pull of the words, still remembering every life that had been taken. “рассвет, печь, девять,” Bucky ground his teeth, gripping the arms of the chair tightly, tears breaking free from his eyes. “доброкачественный, возвращение домой, один, грузовой вагон.” You finished and stared at him for a long moment, looking for any change, but he just looked at you with relief in his eyes. Your breath caught in your throat and you thought for a moment you would burst into tears along with him.

  “Buck?” Steve asked cautiously. 

Bucky looked at his friend and smiled standing from the chair. Steve took him into a tight hug. You wanted to go to him, to look into those eyes and know that he was free of all Hydra had done to him. To celebrate this moment with him. Instead, you quietly walked from the room, the rest of the team greeting you with praise but it all felt hollow somehow. But you smiled at them and made your excuses, the team joining Steve and Bucky. You walked quietly through the compound, the barn door protocol being lifted as you went, making your way to the large glass front of the building. Outside you could see Bruce talking with a red head you didn’t recognize, they both looked at you as you stepped into the cooling night air. Just then an elderly man in a wheel chair came into view.

  “Hello, Y/N, I’m Professor Charles Xavier,” he said in a British accent, this was the man who wrote the research you had been reading. “I think we need to have a talk.”  

[justformyself2]

Rainstorm

Yep. I'm a grown adult, but i feel like i need to tell you not to tell my mom. That is all I'm going to say.

WARNING: +18 READING. Probably some grammar mistakes ♥

John Krasinski x Reader.

Masterlist for more

You remain in the same position, missing countings of having to re-read the same phrase at the top of the page. He is watching you, and it burns, mostly because you were about to give in and were, still, putting up a stupid fight against yourself.

He wasn't playing your games anymore. There was another field being stepped on, other than the childish silent treatment phase, followed by the disgraceful conversation.

You disguised yourself in doing other 'chores' instead of enjoying every little bit of time left with him before LA could come in between and settle you two into the silent treatment for good.

John gets up from behind the desk on the other side of the room, where he stayed most of the time, where you had caught him ignoring his laptop more than once to look at you. He simply marks while making you catch on fire.

So that was the subtle game he was playing, testing you, bending you like a fragile stick, not even using much strength.

Him putting on that black tank top, generous with the view of his new figure, a result of intense hours of training for another movie. It wasn't as if you didn't like him either way, but the combo of letting the beard grow gave him a darker tone you weren't expecting to enjoy.

Another thing you wouldn't expect is his anterior baby boy face to try to get you back with sex, but this new him you didn't know, you only assumed, because that's what you wanted him to do, putting out the dripping agony between your legs.

He could have, probably or definitely, observed the way you clenched early this morning when he got back after jogging, dripping in sweat, taking his shirt off, entering the kitchen, a place supposed to be a neutral zone. 'Unintentionally.' he pressed his body against your back when reaching for a green juice on the fridge while you were trying to grab the chicken breast.

His fingers cupped your waist, and the warmth stayed there. The tingling, his back, and every little patch of skin walking away from the kitchen trapped into your mind. How did he get so many muscles?

With each and every little innocent touch, every other time you were sleeping on the only bed left on that chalé you rented, far away from the mess of New York City, and he would press his hardness against your bottom, became harder to redeem your choice of staying mad, and remembering to stay that way.

He should have known better than siding with your mom against you, especially in intimate conversations, but every now and then he got carried away by your mother's ways, inviting and manipulative.

Talking about inviting and manipulative, you watch John changing his route towards the bed where you were and walking towards the window on the right.

"Shit, it is going to pour out here."

You could curse.

Deciding the actually leave the book and getting up, you seek shelter from leaving the environment when a loud thunder strikes and the lights go out, stopping you in the hallway towards the small living room, shared with the kitchen.

The fragile moonlight coming through the windows was enough to, at least, guide you two close them when the wind started to get intense.

"Maybe I go should check the fuses?"

You didn't think he was serious, and he didn't seem to be when another violent thunder struck.

Was he checking if you still cared about him enough not to send him outside to get hit by lightning?

He closes the last window in the living room part.

"Are you insane?"

There is still a little bit more annoyance in your voice than you wanted.

The kitchen curtains start to be lifted like they are electrified, making you, in a stupid, impulsive way, run towards them and ignore the existence of the step up to the kitchen part.

Your knees hit the edge floor, as also did the palm of your hands, absorbing the fall.

"FUCK!"

"Baby, what happened?"

"WHO THE FUCK PUT THIS FUCKING STEP HERE?"

"Fuck, I can't see a damn thing. Where the fuck did I put my phone?"

"Why do you need a phone?"

"For the flashlight."

"I'm five steps away from you, seriously."

You sit to start rubbing on your knees in a tentative to ease the pain.

"What if I trip on you." You hear his voice coming closer.

"I'll kill you, but I'm fine. I just need a minute." Another thunder strikes lighting up the room, and he spots you for a couple of seconds.

"Do you think you can close the windows?" You ask, hearing the sound of the trees being shaken by the wind.

"Fuck the windows."

There is the sound of his steps coming closer, and you know he crouched down by the vibration of your own body recognizing his, something that wasn't new, but got enhanced by the darkness you two were under, as also did his smell.

It isn't fair.

"John-"

"Shush, come here."

You feel like a child, putting up your arms around his shoulder, after some guidance from his own hands that afterward cupped down the sides of your breasts down towards your waist, and finally, he easily lifts you, keeping you locked against his chest. His hand makes a slow wandering on your back, and you found yourself subconsciously doing the same thing on his naked arms.

"Don't shus-"

He is quicker than your words, and you wouldn't complain, conquering your mouth as his in a battle you didn't want to win.

The wind whistles through the windows, but you could let it bring down the house if it meant John would continue to bite down your lips while moaning.

No underclothing could prevent him from reaching any part of you without ceremony, but he is slow in a way you have to take his hands and put it in on your breasts, making him chuckle.

"For someone who is mad at me."

He takes advantage of your needs, but two could play the game.

"I can stop if you want, and we can go back the way we were."

You bluff, placing all the convincing in your voice since he couldn't see your face, but you could tell he had that jerk smirk.

His answer came in the form of his fingers invading your pajama shorts, you foolishly try to move away, lazily, and his other hand puts you in place while you feel his thumb caressing your clit.

"Are you sure that is what you really want? You know, you just have to tell me."

His low deep tone fogs your brain completely, and he is quick to realize this fact, so he goes back to attacking your lying mouth, left with no other task than moaning for him, but your hands were eager and truthful. You conquer his moans by stroking him through the sweatpants.

"Oh...Fuck! I was starving for this. You really have no idea, looking at you every day, walking on this fucking see-through shirt practically all-day and denying me to touch you, to kiss you."

He bites your shoulder, releasing another moan when your hand reaches under his underwear.

"It is not like you weren't trying to torture me too, eye-fucking me all day, walking around the house semi-naked, dripping in sweat. I will never forgive how fucking hot you look with a beard. I thought I would hate it, and now I just want to feel it in the middle of my tights."

"So we think alike."

"I think we not gonna make it to the bed, and the couch is too small."

"Then floor it is."

Retrieving yours and his hands, he proceeds to grab you by the ass with both hands, lifting you.

Your legs know the way around his waist, and his mouth knows the way towards your breasts. Over the thin fabric t-shirt, he displays fragile bites while crouching down with you on his lap.

When your bottom touches the floor, carefully, you feel his hand on both sides of your body, ready to get rid of your shirt, and with your help, it comes out easily.

John hums in approval, and so does you when his hands are replaced with the warm wetness of his mouth over your nipples.

The summer rain starts to fall heavy outside while your back starts to rest down against the wood floor slowly.

With your spine flat on the floor, he decides to start to travel down with less routine than you expected, undressing you of your shorts.

John could be methodical, but it seems that he didn't lie about being ravenous for you, but he couldn't skip the foreplay, that would be the true sin.

He goes down towards your navel, and you couldn't decide if it was hotter with the absence of the lights or not; It did enhance each feeling, every swirl of his tongue, every wet sound and taste, but you craved to see his hazel eyes, burning with pure lust to see you squirming under his mouth.

You don't know who or what to thank when the moonlight persevered over whatever cloud blocking it, lighting up the room decently enough to let you capture, even if wouldn't last long, the glistening of his tongue entering you at the exact moment.

You wanted to open your eyes, tell him to look up at you, but you underestimated the power abstinence could have. Now you could really comprehend his lack of ceremony.

"Fuck! Shit... John!."

Through your closed eyelids, you welcome back the darkness, missing the opportunity given by the moon, getting clouded like your thoughts. She would have to be merciful when you could even miss your name. She would have to be more merciful than John, which adds a finger to his torture, curling it up inside you, moaning against your clit.

You coming undone was a matter of seconds.

He tries his best to put you in place when the orgasm hits, but he ruins it, retrieving his stokes and tongue at the peak.

"What the fuck!" You don't' even have the strength to get your torso up.

"Oh, you really thought you were getting away with being punished?"

He grabs your thighs, while you layed, spread open for him. You really could escape in the dark and lock him outside the bedroom to figure out the rest with his hand.

When the thought started to sound like a plan you find the strength needed to get up at least your torso, but with your rough movements, he quickly catches up, gripping hard on your thighs and bringing forward towards his lap.

You figured he waited for you to leave since he was already in the position to land you on top of his hardness, as you were.

"You son of b-."

He grabs your ass, forcing it down on him, causing an inevitable moan to occur since you were already sensitive.

"Be a good girl for me, and I will compensate you, baby. I feel like I shouldn't have to tell you this so many times. It is like you want me to punish you."

The moon now betrays you, showing up in a time you were vulnerable, letting him picture your face while your body melted in his arms, and all of him that was so fucking inviting and undeniable.

"Do what you want with me."

With his eyes boring into yours, John lays you down, proceeding to get out of his remaining clothes completely. You couldn't believe how insanely good he looked; the moonlight could be fooling you.

Watching his cock pops out of the underwear, you could feel the wet agony forming between your legs all over again, like the heavy rain outside.

There isn't another word when the connection of your eyes was held strong, until he inclined forward, placing himself where he belonged, inside you, and your vision got compromised as he merciless pounded his pelvis against yours.

"Christ!"

He growls like an animal, just from being inside of you.

"Make it last, Krasinski."

"Don't worry about it." He chuckles.

Getting a better position with his arms on the sides of your head, he places one under your neck for comfort.

Your legs wrapped around his waist deepened his movements, and soon he was hitting places unknown to you.

"Oh... fuck, that's it right there, don't stop."

You couldn't control, taking advantage of the rain, muffling your pleadings, and also did he, what ironically made you mad at the rain.

He wasn't much vocal, and it didn't bother you till now when his moans were eating your brain out from logic.

"God, you are getting wetter by the second." He says, then kisses your lips before closing his eyes, increasing the strokes. "Is it cause you are now how you are supposed to be? Full of me, and only me."

Now you were the one hungry for his mouth, grabbing on his beard slightly hard to bring towards your face. His tongue is avid, his free hand goes towards your clit, and it's too much.

His mouth parts from yours.

"Cum on my dick, baby, cum for me so I can fill you up like you want me to."

You cry it out, feeling every cell of your body ready to obey him, to please him, and it doesn't take too long when your legs started to shake, and this time he goes all the way with it, letting to lose a bit of movement only when his own orgasm reached. You kiss him, deeply, while he still thrust into you randomly.

His moans vibrating in your mouth, till he quiets down, parting the kiss.

He smirked at you.

"Do you remember when you told me that fucking during a rainstorm was your fantasy?"

[ttttaehyungie]

sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 5

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sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

genre | angst, smut, exes au

summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

word count | 5.2k

chapter rating | 18+

warnings | angst, smut (but it’s angsty smut lksjdflk help), nipple play, dry humping, alcohol consumption, someee intense jealousy

a/n | FIRST OF ALL im so sorry this is so incredibly late lskjdflkjs life has been extremely busy for me 😪 but it’s here!!!! thank you to everybuddy who’s been waiting patiently for this 🤧🤧 but i think this is one of the most angsty chapters of the series soooo 🙃

Namjoon’s an expert at avoiding uncomfortable topics, even if they’re massively serious. It’s something you absolutely hated and it was the cause of many arguments in your previous relationship, and perhaps was even the ultimate cause of your breakup.

But right now, you’re really beginning to understand the appeal.

The first time he swung by the museum for lunch after his birthday celebration - a paper bag in hand filled with bagels still warm and toasty from the store on the corner that you adore - you were caught entirely off guard.

Your mind jumps to the unread messages sitting in your texts and you regret ignoring them. Not because the guilt had hit you, but because maybe if you had been contactable, you would have received a heads-up that he was coming by.

Some might call it selfish, but you prefer to call it self-preservation.

To be fair, it’s not like you were going to leave them unanswered forever. You just needed space to collect your thoughts and make sense of your confusing emotions first, lest you begin the conversation prematurely and drag Namjoon down into the dizzying depths of your current state. As it is right now, your thoughts are like nodes floating in a decontextualized void, the web still unformed because you haven’t had the time to grapple with everything yet.

But here he is, inspecting the cross-section of each bagel Soo-eun pulls out of the bag, trying to identify which is which. Yeri’s at his side, gushing about how great the bagels from this place are. The three of them are crowded around the paper bag that sits on the wooden bench, the paint peeling from the way it’s been bleached by the sun in the museum’s outdoor area. Here he is at your workplace. With your friends. You can’t ignore him now, not without rousing your friends’ suspicion.

But what you can ignore is the issue.

It’s not the time nor the place to talk about this anyway. The atmosphere is warm and light, carrying traces of last night’s celebratory mood. The lunch treat is Namjoon’s way of appreciating the surprise you guys organized for him last night. And there’s a bagel stuffed full of salty sweet ham and sticky melty cheese waiting for you to sink your teeth into. Really not the time for serious conversations at all.

So when Namjoon’s eyes search yours, all wide and probing, as you step in to grab your share, you simply smile and thank him, before slinking away to join Soo-eun on the next bench. Not too far - barely five steps away - but far enough that it gives you space to breathe. Even if Namjoon notices your attempts at escaping, he doesn’t have time to call you out on it. Not when you slyly shoot Yeri a wink. Seamlessly, she catches the cue and sits herself down on the bench, tugging at his arm. For once, you welcome Yeri flirting with Namjoon.

“Let’s eat! I’m starving,” she says.

You don��t miss the way Namjoon’s gaze flickers between you and Yeri, but you ignore it and take a generous bite of the bagel in your hands.

“Mm, so good,” you say, and turn to Soo-eun. “Don’t you miss the days before this place got really popular?”

“No, because you and Yeri insisted on going there every day. I can only ingest so many bagels a week.”

“____ hasn’t changed one bit.” Namjoon chuckles. “This time in middle school, she ate tater tots every single day for three weeks straight. She had to be banned for a week.”

“Are you weaponizing my middle school past against me?” you ask amidst your friends’ laughter. “Too bad. I don’t regret it for a second. Tater tots are too delicious to regret.”

Lunch falls back into the easy rhythm of lighthearted jibes, the kitchen debacle receding for now.

Procrastination is a real bitch of a habit to kick. As soon as one reason to put it off expires, your brain churns out another two in its place like a modern-day Hydra.

As for Namjoon? Well, you’re not surprised when he makes no moves to initiate the difficult conversation. After all, you’re adopting his bad habit.

Eventually it gets to the point where you might as well not talk about it at all. Everything’s going fine so far without it. Or as fine as it can be with this beast looming in the backdrop.

You know you need to just get this damn conversation over with. But you can’t. Not till you figure out what exactly is going on with your emotions. Without it, there’s no way you can cauterize the wounds and invalidate your excuses for what they are -- excuses.

It’s not that you haven’t tried. But it’s presenting itself as a real Herculean effort. Mulling it over has you tossing and turning in bed, only leaving you with a headache and a steadily growing desperation. It’s desperation enough that you leave the comfortable warmth of your bed to sit at your desk, shivering as you pen the familiar words once again.

Dear Namjoon,

The words flow in their usual, unrestricted manner. Before, it had been like a dam breaking, the tight restraint that was normally kept on your emotions finally released and the wave of emotions gushing out till it reached a peaceful equilibrium. But now, your emotions are just a whirlpool and your words you pen mimic its spiralling, chasing your thoughts in endless loops.

You’re not over him. But so what? It’s not like getting together is an option. Not when he hasn’t grown out of one of the major things that caused the end of your previous relationship. And not when you haven’t even talked that out, if you ever will.

So what can you do now? Kicking him out of your life will mean having to deal with the loss that his absence will bring again. Going back to pretending the other doesn’t exist will mean dancing around each other again every time you bump into each other in this too small city. And with the way your social circles are intertwined now, that would mean a bunch of explaining to do.

But having him close yet holding him at arm’s length? Walking the narrow margin that is being friends with your ex? A misstep in either direction would be torturous but inevitable - too close and it’s alarming, but too far and it’s a painful reminder that he’s not yours.

Far from the illuminating effect you were hoping it would have, your letter to Namjoon only leaves you deeper in confusion. You throw your pen down. Giving up, you fold the paper up. Sealing the letter in an envelope doesn’t bring the same sense of relief it did before. The Hydra remains unslain.

And so the problem gets shoved away - the same treatment the letter gets as it’s roughly tossed into the desk drawer - into the same corner of the recesses of your mind that your breakup resides in.

You know that Namjoon’s confused. Heck, you are too. It’s a strange dance the two of you are involved in, caught between the compulsion to continue yet knowing the risks it bears. Neither of you are bold enough to take the lead. And so this strange stasis drags on as it has for weeks now.

It’s as if the kiss unearthed something in him. Actually no, it’s unearthed something in both of you. And the tension - the fucking tension - is unreal. The tells are so obvious that you wonder how neither Yeri nor Soo-eun have said anything about it yet. There’s certainly no subtlety in the way his eyes linger on your lips in the middle of conversations that you wonder if he’s even aware he’s doing it.

And when it’s just the two of you? It’s infinitely worse.

It’s hard to blame him. Touch has always been your love language and Namjoon knows it. Physical touch wasn’t just a thing of your previous two-year relationship. It was a thing of your decades of friendship too, the little touches so casual and almost subconscious. Rekindling your friendship without them had taken intentional effort.

You’re not sure who started it. Maybe both of you just fell back into it, the casual little touches slipping their way back in. But what’s not casual at all is the way your heartbeat goes erratic at the most simple of gestures. The way he blithely sweeps the crumbs from your lunch off your lap. The slightly too long side-hug he holds you in, the warmth of his arm around you permeating through the layers you wear and has you simultaneously freezing up while also turning your insides to goo. But it isn’t overtly romantic either.

At least, that’s the excuse you give yourself when the comfort of his touch gets too tempting and you end up succumbing to it. The familiarity of it all makes you feel like you’ve finally arrived home. As if you’ve been on this long, arduous journey and you’re finally here. You get to drop the heavy backpack and rest now.

But the voice of rationality in you tells you this wrong wrong wrong. You’ve got to get out of here.

And that’s how you end up here. White-knuckled grip tight on the edges of the sink as you stare yourself dead in the eyes in the bathroom mirror. The music outside thumps away albeit muted through the door to the ladies’. But the way your heart thumps has nothing to do with that.

Even without shifting your gaze, you can tell that your cheeks are slightly reddened and warm. You can feel it tingling. No, you don’t shift your gaze. It stays fixed on the intense stare that your reflection throws back at you like a challenge, the ferocity of it enhanced by the sharp eyeliner you’re wearing tonight, an uncharacteristic look for you.

Heck, this whole night is uncharacteristic.

You could take the easy route and blame it on Yeri. God knows she can be real persuasive - it’s why she’s excellent at her job. So getting you all out to the club on a Friday night to celebrate nothing other than the simple joy that - c’mon guys, we’re all young and alive and free and tell me that’s not worth celebrating and I’ll fucking fistfight you right here and now even with my freshly manicured nails - is no feat for her.

Still, no one really expected your simple reply, tone nonchalant and eyes still glued to your work screen, “Yeah, I could use a night out.”

Soo-eun had remained silent but you could feel her stiffen slightly beside you. Yeri had been surprised too but more elated that she didn’t have to get through your usual ten solid minutes of whining and half-baked attempts at slithering your way out of it.

But back to the present. Your bodycon dress - one of the rare pieces that survived not just your college partying days but also the wardrobe purge that occurred when you had to downsize everything to fit into the tiny apartment that’s quintessential to city-living - expands with your chest as you take a deep breath. Gripping the hem where it sits mid-thigh, you yank it down slightly. It’s been a while since you’ve worn this dress. And while the younger, more risque version of you that was your college self had been enthralled by the daringness of the dress, your current self has to dig deep to muster up that same boldness.

Relenting as you realize that this is the limit to how much you can stretch the length of your dress, you let go and your fingertips unintentionally brush your thigh as it falls back to your side. It elicits a shudder, the sensation of your own fingers too close to the electrifying feeling of someone’s thumb skimming across it. It was electrifying enough that your brain finally powered up again, voice of rationality sending you skedaddling away, out of reach of his touch, and pathetically seeking refuge in the washroom.

You roll your shoulders back and shake your head, dispelling the thoughts. Standing upright, you look yourself in the eye again. You can do this. You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to have a good time with your friends. You’re going to have a good time with Namjoon. With a nod of affirmation, you turn and saunter your way back to the club with a confidence that has your chin firmly tipped upwards.

You push the door open and look for your friends. The sight that greets you immediately punctures your confidence and your steady posture falls limp.

It’s hard to miss her silvery dress - the dress you knew she would wear and the dress that your very own was meant to counter. It catches the light and grabs attention. And at this moment, it grabs your attention so you can witness Yeri standing between Namjoon’s manspread thighs as he’s perched on the barstool, her hands all over him.

Whatever puffed up confidence you’d had is knocked out of you with that sucker punch of a sight. You turn away, needing to look anywhere but at them.

And that’s when your line of sight falls on a curly-haired man, oddly familiar, and apparently someone you know since he’s waving to you.

“____, hey!” he yells over the music.

“Dong-In?”

He nods and smiles at you. “It’s been a while.”

“Wait.” You gasp. “I was supposed to get back to you on brunch, wasn’t I?” Damn. You’ve been so wrapped up with Namjoon that you totally forgot about Dong-In. “I’m so sorry, I’ve been really caught up with things.”

“It’s no biggie.” He shrugs boyishly. “The exhibition, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sure, the exhibition. Let’s go with that.

“And nothing to do with…” he directs his gaze - and yours along with it - to none other than Namjoon who’s now drinking with Yeri.

Your gaze snaps back to Dong-In and his cheshire grin.

“Nah,” you feign a laugh. “He’s just a friend.”

“The hand he had on you sure didn’t look like just friends.”

“I said we’re just friends,” you snap, then gasp, taken aback by your own outburst. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, I should be the one apologizing. I hit a nerve there, didn’t I. D’you wanna talk about it?” His voice is warm and mellow and oh so inviting. And you very nearly give in.

But you can’t pull him into your problems. It’s not his burden to bear.

“Not really. But thanks, Dong-In.”

“That’s cool.” He nods, and relief fills you. This is what you’ve always liked about Dong-In. He’s chill. “Well since we’re here, wanna get buzzed?”

You laugh. “I won’t say no to that.”

The bar isn’t too far from where you are, and it doesn’t take long before the burn of alcohol is sliding down your throat. Picking up the conversation again, you have to admit, you’d forgotten how easy it is to talk to Dong-In. He’s got that effortless charisma and an easy sense of humor that you can vibe with. Things are simple with him. There’s no line to be tiptoed. Flirting - now that you’re no longer obtuse and you’re finally aware that he is indeed flirting with you - isn’t accompanied by guilt or fear.

And after weeks of this complicated situation with Namjoon, simplicity is what you crave.

“Hey, do you wanna dance?” you ask suddenly. Surprise colors his features for a moment but he laughs it off.

“Is the conversation boring you? You could have just told me to shut up if you wanted me to,” he jokes.

“No!” You laugh. “There’s just a good beat going and-”

“I’m just kidding. I’d love to.” He smiles and grabs your hand.

The two of you weave your way through the mass of gyrating bodies. Lightly buzzed, the fog and the strobe lights blurring everything around you other than your dance partner, you finally find the courage you’ve been searching for this whole time. Dong-In hasn’t been very subtle about checking you out all night, and it gives you that extra boost of confidence that’s finally quelled the antsy thoughts and calmed the fidgety adjustments to your dress’s hemline.

So when his hands find your waist, you step in a little closer and run your hands through your hair, shaking it out and finally letting loose as your hips rock to the pounding beat. Dancing with Dong-In is much like conversing with him- easy and simple fun with just the slightest tinge of excitement. As your hips sway together in languid synchrony, you catch a whiff of the slightly intoxicating combination of his cologne and the undertones of his own natural scent. You give in to the giddying sensation of his hands running lightly over your body and press in closer, eyes fluttering shut, and just feeling. It’s thrilling. It’s risque. It’s-

A solid grip on your wrist yanks you forward and stumbling into a hard chest.

His voice is gruff as he bites out his words, “Get your hands off her.”

“Namjoon?” you gape.

“We’re leaving.” His eyes fix on yours, steely and piercing. A shiver runs down your spine - in all your years of knowing him, you’ve never seen him like this. He tugs on your wrist once more. “Now.”

Dazed by this brand new persona, you don’t even get to say goodbye to Dong-In, just pulled along by the force that is a quietly fuming Namjoon. Everything happens so quickly that it’s all a blur until you’re in the Uber with him, silently clutching onto your purse as an anchor in this sudden whirlwind of events. The anger emanates off of him even in the dimly lit backseat.

“What the fuck?” you whisper, but the shock diminishes the level of conviction in your voice.

He turns to you, the same hardness still in his gaze. “I should be the one asking that.”

“What?!” you snap. In your peripheral vision, you see the Uber driver jump slightly. Lowering your tone, you hiss, “What gives you the right?”

“What gives me the right?” he echoes incredulously, scoffing and turning away from you to face forward instead as he rolls his eyes. “This is ridiculous.”

The car slows to a stop and you recognize your apartment building. You scramble to get away from him. But it seems your confrontation is far from over. Namjoon unbuckles his own seatbelt to follow you.

Terse silence sits between you, the aggravated stomping of your feet as you climb the stairs the only thing that fills the sound.

You turn sharply round the corner, stalking off to your apartment door. “You don’t have to escort me y’know, I’m perfectly capable of getting home by myself.”

“Really?” He folds his arms and leans on the wall next to your door. “It’s hard to trust you when you go off getting drunk and throwing yourself at a random stranger in the club.”

“Is that what the problem is?” You finally ram the key in, and the click as it unlocks is as harsh as your tone. “Sorry to break it to you, but I have a life apart from you. He’s no stranger. His name is Dong-In, he’s Yeri’s friend, and he’s a great guy.”

You shove the door open. Your heels get kicked off and left haphazardly at the entryway, shoe cabinet ignored.

“Wow, some great guy he is,” Namjoon slams the door shut and his shoes get discarded off his feet in the same fashion, “drunkenly feeling you up in a club.”

“Fuck!” You turn, wringing your hands in your hair. Your glares rival each other. “You say it as if I was strung along by him. Well I wasn’t. I initiated it.”

His glare flickers for a moment. He stays silent.

“Just admit that you’re jealous,” you whisper. You unsling your purse and dump it on top of the shoe cabinet, never breaking eye contact.

“Fine.” Namjoon’s gaze doesn’t waver. “I am.”

He skulks forward and traps you between him and the cabinet, gaze holding yours. Namjoon’s always towered over you, but at the moment it isn’t his height that makes you feel tiny.

“Watching his hands all over you like this,” Namjoon’s hands slowly skim the back of your thighs and up your sides and you bite back a whimper, “makes me jealous.”

“And watching you respond like this?” He continues as a firm hand presses the small of your back to close the gap between your torsos. “Glued to him like this? It makes me jealous.”

“You don’t own me,” you whisper but it only elicits a sardonic laugh from him.

“You say that, but you know damn well that’s not the truth. Tell me. Are you jealous?”

“What would I-”

“Yeri.” Damn. Straight through the bullshit. With an eyebrow cocked, it’s obvious he knows the answer and he’s not budging, not even an inch.

“Yes,” you admit quietly. “I’m jealous.”

“Silly girl.” He traces the hemline of your dress. “I only want you.”

A soft keening noise spills out of you. “I’m so sick of holding back.” You tug on his dress shirt, and the feel of his plush lips finally, finally meeting yours snips the final frayed cords of self-restraint you possessed.

Namjoon is quick to reciprocate, and you moan as his tongue licks at your bottom lip. Hooking your arms around his neck, you pull him closer, needing nothing else but to have him close after all this time of distance. He hoists you up, and your legs circle his waist to aid him. The world around you sets into motion as he walks you to your bed, and you anchor yourself by pressing kisses to his neck.

With how tiny your apartment is, it takes no time for him to carry you from the entryway to your bedroom. The cool sensation of your unmade sheets envelops you as he lowers you down onto the bed. He barely gets a moment to appreciate the sight of you, hair mussed and lipstick smudged, lounging on the bed and waiting for him. Desperate for his touch and running out of patience, you gesture to the zip on the side of your dress. Hurrying, he pulls the zipper down as you tug your arms out of the thin straps of the garment. You sit up and let the torso of the dress fall to bunch up at your waist, revealing your bare chest to him.

The quiet gasp that escapes him as he beholds you is infinitely flattering. It’s but a momentary pause. He dives forward into action again. An arm looped around your back to support you as your chest arches upwards, he crouches over you to take one perked-up tit into the heat of his mouth, his free hand coming up to toy with the other. His tongue laves over your nipple in a slippery flick. The other gets pinched and rolled, leaving you gasping at the delicious sensations.

“Namjoon,” you moan out breathily, and it only eggs him on. You whimper as he begins sucking on the bud and wetness pools between your thighs. Your fingernails rake down his back, muted through the layer of his dress shirt.

“M-more,” you plead. He releases your breast and moves his mouth upwards, trailing gentle pecks till he kisses along the length of your collarbone.

“Come here,” he commands, his words breathy and hot as they puff against the thin skin of your clavicle. He scoots back to lean against the headboard, and you follow hastily.

You clamber on top of him, knees bent and straddling his lap as he helps you hike the skirt of your dress up. But before you seat yourself atop the prominent bulge in the lightwash denim of his jeans, he holds you still with a firm grasp on your hip.

His thumb trails the lace detail of your panties, the patterns snaking across your hip bone, baby pink like your dress.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbles. His fingers wander to your clothed core, the material slightly sheer from the damp spot of your arousal. He strokes it tenderly with the pad of his finger, so light that it has you quivering as you hover above him.

His fingernail grazes your slit through the wet material and a gasp catches in your throat. You clench around nothing as carnal desire throbs through your core.

“Namjoon, please,” you whine.

Finally, he gives in to you and pulls you down. Your laced core meets his rough denim-clad one. The stiff material of his jeans pokes through the delicate fabric of your underwear, the friction rough as he drags you over his clothed bulge. The burn is delicious. His hands on you set a slow but steady rhythm that you follow easily, canting your hips in time. It’s enrapturing to watch the way you grind on one another, your clit rubbing up on the apex of his bulge in mutual pleasure.

A finger tips your chin up from the sight you were fixated on.

“Eyes on me.”

It’s difficult. Pleasure has your eyes drooping shut. But the intensity of his gaze compellingly holds yours and you manage, even if barely. His expression is stoic, and it’s only the twitch of his dick that betrays how affected he is. You, on the other hand, are completely abandoned to pleasure. Hands scrabbling across his upper back and up until they settle themselves as fists gripping tufts of his hair, teeth clamped on your bottom lip as moans spill out of you at increasing frequency as your pleasure climbs and climbs and climbs until-

Burrowing your face into the side of his neck, you pant as you cross the peak. Hips now stilled, your climax has you throbbing against his hardened member. You cling onto him with your arms around his neck as you free-fall in the subsiding pleasure. Bare chest brushing against the smooth material of his dress shirt, you catch your breath and yield to the moment.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Shit.” Louder this time. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The regret in his words yank you out of the heady fog of lust. There’s no time to bask in the afterglow. Reality comes crashing down hard and mercilessly.

Suddenly, you feel so small and so exposed. You read his regret as rejection. Your nudity and previous salacious actions make you feel stupid.

Namjoon attempts to extricate your arms from around him, but shame has you clutching to him tighter, hiding your face in his neck. You can still feel him under you, but it’s now an uncomfortable reminder of the act you just committed.

“Hey,” his voice is gentle now, pleading, “look at me? Please?”

You refuse. It’s impossible to look him in the eye right now.

“Fuck.” Even whispered, the panic laced in his tone is blatant. Gently, he maneuvers both of you to turn over. Feeling the mattress underneath you as you’re laid on your back, you release your hold on him and swiftly turn and tug your blanket up to hide away from him.

“____.” He tries. You grip the sheets even tighter as you feel him trying to pull it away from your face. “Please.”

Embarrassment. Guilt. Mortification. They overtake you and you curl in on yourself. You just want to disappear.

“____,” he tries again, hand stroking your head. But you don’t allow yourself to succumb to its comfort. “Talk to me. Please.”

Oh, now he wants to talk.

Why couldn’t you have just talked things out earlier? Why only now when things have fallen apart? Why now when you’ve just done something so stupid and so reckless?

Why now when it’s too late? What can talking possibly do to fix this now?

His pleas are met with silence.

“I’m gonna get you some water,” he says resignedly.

More silence. He sighs. You feel the mattress shift as he gets up. From where you’re still hiding in the stuffy darkness underneath your blanket, you hear his footsteps return and the muted thud of the glass getting placed on your bedside table.

The silence returns, but you can feel his presence. You imagine he’s staring at your blanket lump on the bed.

Finally, the heavy quietness is broken with a deep breath, and you hear him say softly, “Get a good night’s rest, okay? Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”

The light clicks off and you’re plunged into lonely pitch-black darkness. In the distance, you hear the heavy opening and closing of your front door as Namjoon leaves.

Unearthing yourself to the coolness of the night, your dress an uncomfortable lump around your waist, your breasts slightly sore from his previous ministrations, you stare up at the ceiling as hot tears leak out.

It’s well into the afternoon by the time you drag yourself out of bed the next day. Sleep came intermittently and was far from restful, but waking up meant facing the nightmarish reality of what had transpired. So you hid under the covers for as long as you could. But you know you can’t stay there forever.

The buzzing notifications of your phone had woken you up on more than one occasion in the night. But you ignore it and leave your phone next to the glass of water - still untouched - in favor of washing up. It’s more pressing anyway, you surmise. You can feel your make-up, now icky and caked on your face. It’s awful. Your skin is probably revolting against you now and you don’t even want to think about the mess it probably left on your pillowcase. But last night, you were simply paralyzed by the weight of what you’d done, crying till sleep finally came for you.

You take your time going through an extensive skincare routine, even busting out the clay mask you had impulsively bought together with Yeri when it was on discount. You’re doing it because your skin needs the pampering and definitely not because you’re procrastinating getting to your phone.

But there’s only so many steps you can do with the limited skincare products in your apartment. And you know your friends are probably worried about your abrupt disappearance last night. Getting to those messages first, you quickly assure Soo-eun and Yeri that you’re safe at home. Looking at the remaining notifications, you sigh.

Missed calls Namjoon (8)

7 unread messages from 2 chats Namjoon: are you still sleeping? Namjoon: hey, you still asleep? Namjoon: text me when you’re up please? Namjoon: are you awake?

Dong-In: hey! Dong-In: not sure what exactly happened at the end there haha, but it was rly great seeing u again. Dong-In: i’m still waiting on that brunch reschedule, by the way.

Memories from last night come back to you. Dong-In runs his hands through his curls, an easy grin on his face as he leans in to listen to you over the loud music of the club. Things are simple with Dong-In. And, standing on the precipice of a mental spiral whenever you think of Namjoon, the same craving for simplicity from last night returns.

[2:06pm] ____: well it’s a little late for brunch right now

[2:06pm] ____: but you still up to grab a bite?