#I’m begging you to zoom in on this one it’s gonna get crunched

[cyanbeetle]

Punks

[bangtan-gal]

Rev Up

Han Jisung x Fem!Reader street racer!au  word count: 2.1k warnings: angst, swearing, blood, brief mentions of drugs, fluff, smut Requested

Masterlist

Your whole childhood, you’d been sheltered. You grew up with your parents constantly hovering over you. So when college came, you hit the ground running. Freedom and exhilaration were your drugs and you were addicted. And the biggest dose you could find was in Han Jisung.

You’d met Jisung your freshmen year. You had been trying to sleep before your final the next day, but he and a bunch of boys were making a bunch of noise outside your window. Simply put, you made quite a first impression on the boy. Throwing a neon pink, plastic hairbrush at him from your window and then marching down to the parking lot to retrieve it and give him a piece of your mind was quite the way to be memorable. From first sights, the two of you looked like you didn’t get along; but if people actually paid attention, they’d notice the odd chemistry that burned between you.

You hadn’t meant to become friends with the obnoxious blondie when you first met him. Actually, your first several interactions with the boy made you think he was the most annoying thing to exist. That annoyance led to a burning curiosity, and then next thing you knew you were at one of his races, your heart practically leaping out of your chest.

Now two years later the two of you were inseparable. Jisung would skip his classes to come to yours and you would ignore homework to be at his races. You weren’t dating. That was the most annoying thing about Jisung. He hated labels and didn’t seem to understand why you wanted an actual relationship out of… whatever was going on between the two of you.

It had started when Jisung asked you to ride in the car with him. He had started calling you his Lucky Charm and it only grew from there. It quickly became long nights talking about everything and nothing and nights that were full of kisses, giggles, and sly touches. Then one day you made the mistake of asking what the two of you were. He’d clamped up and ignored you for two days straight.

Friends had told you it would be best to drop his ass, but you found yourself unable to do it. You knew it was toxic, you weren’t stupid, but Jisung became your everything. Some said that you couldn’t tell the difference between an addiction and love, but you were certain Jisung wasn’t classified as that drug. Sure, he was the epitome of freedom and only had a wild side, but you’d dug deeper into him over the years and found yourself falling for the boy that lay underneath. 

Yet the problem was that life doesn’t always grant perfection.

It was cold and you hated sitting on the sidelines, shivering in your oversized hoodie. Jisung leaned against his beat up Mazda, sneering at the boy across from him. Minho, Jisung’s best friend, stood beside you, arms crossed as the argument went down. 

“How much longer are we gonna be here?” You grumbled.

“Believe me, I wish I knew,” Minho huffed, lighting a cigarette. This was the first time in months that you weren’t actually in the car with Jisung for his race. This was also the first time you found yourself not excited to be here. This was just plain stupid. A rematch because somebody’s ego got hurt.

“Why are you here?” You asked him, eyes looking at the empty sidewalks. Normally there would be small crowds, sometimes huge, to come watch. Today it was five of you: the two drivers, you, Minho, and the other guy’s supposed girlfriend. “Jisung’s my best friend, if he gets here, I have to be here, don’t I?” He huffed, taking a puff from his cigarette. “Why the hell are you here?”

Minho didn’t like you and he never tried to hide it from you. He’d treated you the same since the first day he met you: like a bump in the road. You never tried to make friends with him; he was stubborn and you had to just deal with it.

“I mean—you’re technically not anything to him, are you?” You smacked the cigarette from his hand, angrily crushing it under your shoe.

“Fuck off Lee,” you spat, moving away from him. Jisung glanced over his shoulder, smiling nervously at you. It made your heart warm and you smiled back, giving him a thumbs up. Then he slid into the car and started the engine.

There was no enthusiasm in Minho’s gait as he walked in front of the cars. He pulled his lighter and a small firework from his pocket. You flinched when it exploded and the cars zoomed off. 

This was why you liked to be in the car. Standing there in silence, watching as the cars disappeared around the corner, there was nothing entertaining about it. You felt like a loser standing alone at a party, but this time, it was just you and a guy you hated. Minho walked towards you, holding his phone up. You sighed when you saw that he was on the phone with Jisung.

There was no talking coming from the other end, only Jisung’s muffled breathing and the audible vibrating of his car. You held your breath, hands clutching one another in your pocket. You closed your eyes and for a moment felt like you were actually in the car. You could see the lights zooming by, feel the excitement in your stomach and the way the car rumbled.

“Holy shi—”

Your eyes flew open as Jisung’s voice crackled through the speaker. You knew what was happening before it did. Something screeched and then there was a loud crunch and a thud. You met Minho’s gaze and the two of you took off in the directions the cars had gone. They were at least several miles down the road but your fear was egging you on. The car came into view and the sight almost made you throw up. The front was completely crunched in and smoke was curling up from it and disappearing into the cold air.

Your heart pounded as you hurried to the door, ripping it open. You helped Jisung out of the car, struggling as he leaned against you. Blood trickled from his nose and down his lips. His eyes were half open and glazed over.

“Oh fuck,” Minho hissed, his eyes darting around. “Where’s the other guy?”

His car was nowhere in sight.

“Who cares,” you huffed, “just call an ambulance.”

Minho frowned. “But they’re illegally racing don’t you th—”

Jisung coughed and blood spattered across your front.    

“Fucking call them Minho! Do you want him to bleed everywhere?” You screamed. You felt like you were about to pass out as the boy quickly dialed 911. Jisung groaned, eyes fluttering open. His gaze swung back and forth and then managed to settle on you.

“I’m r-sorry Y/N,” he gasped. You shook your head, still struggling to hold back tears.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered, nearly crumbling under his weight. Minho was struggling to describe where you were to the operator, but you were unable to help as Jisung met your gaze. His eyes looked completely clear and you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away.

“I love you,” he mumbled. 

You sputtered. 

“W-wha—”

“They’re on their way,” Minho interrupted. He was completely unaware of the moment the two of you just had. “Here, let me help.”

The boy took Jisung from you, easily supporting him. You stood there, arms hanging limp at your side and eyes focusing on nothing in particular. Han Jisung didn’t like labels. Han Jisung didn’t openly express his emotions like that. He especially didn’t just say ‘I love you’ out of the blue. Did near-death experiences really change people? But he seemed mostly fine and nowhere near death. 

Then again, Han Jisung didn’t follow any rules, not even his own.

🕱🕱🕱🕱🕱

By the next afternoon, you were back at your apartment. Jisung lay on your couch, snoring away. Minho was collapsed in the extra bedroom. You were exhausted as well, but you couldn’t sleep. Thankfully, Jisung hadn’t sustained a bunch of horrible injuries. Nothing was broken or internally bleeding. His ribs were slightly bruised and his face was scraped up a bit. You had probably overreacted, but it felt like your mind had short-circuited when you saw him in the destroyed car.

“Y/N.”

Jisung’s croak had you hurrying to his side. He smiled at you and sat up, yawning. 

“You’re okay?” You asked.

“Yeah, I am.” He met your stare. “I promise.”

“Thank god,” you sighed and then smacked his shoulder, “how dare you fucking just drop that statement as if you were about to die any second! Do you know how much that scared me? I thought you were going to actually di—”

Your voice cracked and you stopped yourself. Jisung’s eyes searched your face and then he reached for your hand. You tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip and his eyes begged you not to leave.

“Y/N… when I lost control of the car I felt like I could just see my whole life flash before my eyes. I have never been loved by anyone before and that has caused me to always cut people off at some point. Then I just realized that you’ve been here all along, glowing so bright in my dull world,” he murmured, “I truly do love you Y/N, I just suck at showing it.”

You smiled, your cheeks flushing at his words.

“That was really corny.”

Jisung kissed you, pulling you close to him. Your hands tangled in his hair and you let yourself fall away in him. His taste and smell was a perfect intoxication. You straddled his lap, pressing yourself further into the kiss. The two of you fell back and Jisung pulled back for a second, eyes glazed over as he smiled at you. 

“I wished I said it before,” he hummed. You chuckled and pressed your lips to his again in a quick kiss.

“We can’t base our lives off wishes.”

He hummed as you kissed him again, deeper this time. Things started to pick up the pace as both your shirts were tossed over your head and onto the floor. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw and then down your neck. Soft gasps were escaping your lips as his assault became harsher. His hips bucked into yours and you jerked against him. 

Jisung winced.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you muttered, pulling back, “you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine, I swear,” he stated. You pressed a hand to his ribs and he flinched again.

“Yeah, perfectly fine,” you retorted, rolling your eyes. You slid off his lap and sat on the other end of the couch. Your eyes dropped down to the obvious problem in his shorts. His mouth was slightly open, eyes focused on the ceiling.

“But if you relax, I can help you.”

He looked over just in time as you grasped him through his pants. A strangled, absolutely beautiful gasp fell from his lips and he rolled into your touch. You slid his basketball shorts and boxers off, mouth-watering as his cock sprang up. You knelt on the floor and gently wrapped your lips around his tip. 

“Fu-uck.”

You hollowed your cheeks and bobbed up and down. Jisung’s hand found its way to your hair and he groaned, tugging on the strands. You licked along the underside of his cock and then pulled off with a ‘pop!’ You grasped the base, meeting the blonde’s stare as you went down on him again. You forced him as deep as you could take him, gagging around his tip. 

His hips bucked up and a loud groan fell from his lips. You swallowed around him and watched through your eyelashes as his head fell back. His stomach started to tighten up and you picked up your pace. 

“S-shit Y/N!” He whimpered, hips momentarily retreating from your ministration and then bucked back up into your mouth. Jisung came with several quick gasps and you pulled back, his cum dripping down from your lips and chin. You wiped it off and then crawled back up onto the couch, gently laying down beside him.

“I think I forgot to mention that I love you too,” you murmured, tracing circles on his chest. 

He opened his mouth.

“Are you guys fucking serious? You couldn’t have taken it to the damn room?” Minho shrieked.

[elysianecho]

The Meeting: An Excerpt

Summary: Roxy found Bucky. She doesn’t tell anyone. Not even Steve. 

Pairing: Bucky x OC (platonic) Steve x OC (established and from afar)

Warnings: Some angst, some fluff, descriptions of a panic attack, brief mentions of blood, hallucinations, and a fender bender, PTSD and memory issues. Guilt. (I think that’s it?)

Word count: 5900~

A/N: So I’ve been working on a Steve x OC fic for a while, and I had this idea and really wanted to write the interaction with these two and then it ran away from me.

OC is Roxana Mercer. Born with wings and the power of lighting. 

Here goes! 

~~~~~

“No, no...Ah--” Roxy tried saying the word again, but still received the same hand waving and the same angry phrase. The older woman behind the booth clearly frustrated with this apparent dumb American. Roxy rubbed her hands down her face and took a deep breath. She would not lose her cool with this woman. She would not. 

Roxy went to open the translating application when a smooth voice came ringing through the chaos. The man talked with the vendor for a moment before chuckling to himself and turning vivid blue eyes to Roxy. 

“She’s been trying to let you know she doesn’t have pineapples as they are out of season and hard to come by,” he said, still grinning. “What were you trying to ask for?”

“Not pineapples. How on earth did I-- nevermind,” Roxy shook her head and looked back to the brunet, “I was asking if she had red apples; all I see are green.” 

He nodded and turned once more to the lady. His voice was almost velvet to Roxy’s ears, in stark contrast to the shoulder-length hair, rough stubble on his face, and faded cap. Not to mention his jacket and jeans looked like they had seen better days. In just a few moments, he’d managed to defuse the tense situation and even had the lady giggling as she playfully swatted his arm. She even smiled at Roxy and, according to the translator, apologized for being rude. 

The stories were true. Bucky Barnes could charm the pants off just about anyone. 

In the end, Roxy had her apples and everyone was breathing a little easier. She stepped away from the booth and her new translator followed suit. 

“American, huh?” 

“That obvious?”

“Eh,” he tilted his head and smiled, “Your accent wasn’t bad, but from what I heard you need to work on sentence structure. And maybe get the right word.” 

Roxy hung her head and nodded. He assured her that with practice she’d be a professional in no time at all. He stood with one hand in his jacket pocket and pointed out some good vendors in the open market, the best in his opinion, most of his weight on one foot and shoulders relaxed. Eyes that were constantly watching their surroundings, crinkled at the corners when he smiled at Roxy. She couldn't help but return the smile.

“Well thank you very much, Mr.--?" Roxy said, holding out her hand. He took a breath and his smile became tight before he shook her hand. 

“Just call me Bucky."

“It's nice to meet you, I'm Roxy. Now, if I'm not mistaken, that's a very American accent you got there, Bucky," Roxy said, he hung his head slightly, still grinning.

“Yeah, I'm a transplant. What about you? What brings a lovely dame like yourself to Romania?” he asked. Roxy raised an eyebrow. Oh, this was going to be very interesting. 

Five weeks of trying to get him to talk to her. Five weeks of showing him she was not a threat. Five weeks, three times she lost him in the city, four times he threatened her and one time she believed him. One panic attack in the park. 

She was fine. Perfectly fine taking pictures of dew on grass, moss on rocks, and one grumpy ex-assassin petting a dog with the biggest grin on his face.  She watched as Bucky threw a stick and the scruffy stray bounded after it. She listened as he called the dog a good boy and threw it again. 

In her five weeks there she’d seen him be the sweetest customer to vendors and shop owners, effectively terrify three middle school boys from picking on a classmate, and feeding and loving every stray animal in the city. She’d approached him several times and he seemed mostly tolerant of her presence. He hadn’t left the country yet. Some of their conversations were just small talk, twice she’d begged him to translate for her, and some were harsh. Those were the ones where she had tried to get him to open up to her; she talked about Steve, the Commandos, never Hydra. Some days he smiled in remembrance, but never divulged anything on the topics, other days he struggled to understand what she was talking about and told her to fuck off. 

Now she was giving him space. It had been ten days since she spoke to him; she had been playing tourist and hadn’t even followed him around. She was surprised to see him at the park that day but decided to get some good pictures of him before going back to her macro shots. A yelp and apologies broke her concentration on a beetle and she saw Bucky helping a lady up and getting a handle on the dog. He threw the stick in another direction before apologizing again and blushing when the lady winked at him as she went on her way. Roxy quickly adjusted her settings and zoomed in on the bashful face of Bucky Barnes. That was definitely one she would show Steve later. 

She lowered her camera as a wave of nausea swept over her. 

Steve. 

Her heart ached and she took a deep breath. It had been five weeks since she’d seen him. 

Since she’d lied to him. 

She pursed her lips and willed herself not to cry at the thought of it all. Steve, Sam, Roxy, and Natasha had all been working on finding Bucky. Roxy was the one who found a good lead and kept it to herself. She’d scoped it out and by pure happenstance, he had appeared. The story was that the lead was ages cold, but she’d found clues to a suspected Hydra ring and was going undercover to get more information before the team came in guns blazing. Solo. No details. Limited communication. No one liked the idea; even Nat had offered to be backup, but Roxy knew that if anyone else came along, Bucky would run and they would be left at square one. 

A scream erupted, tires squealed, and metal crunched against metal. A horn blared and the smell of smoke filled the air. Roxy jerked her head up, adrenaline rushing, ready to fight, but when she saw the tall blond fall out of the car, catching himself and looking her dead in the eyes, everything in her turned to ice.

Steve. 

Blood poured down his face onto his shirt. His eyes wide, disoriented and betrayed as an onlooker made to help him up off the concrete. She could barely make out what he was saying: why did you lie to me? 

One hand grabbed her shoulder and another forced her to look into steely blue eyes. No green; not Steve’s. Roxy looked back to the accident to see a tall blond man talking to the woman he had rear-ended, but it was not Steve. There was no blood, no betrayal. Then why did her chest hurt? 

“Roxy, look at me. Breathe.” 

She looked up to the steel-blue eyes again and found concern. Why was Bucky so worried? What scared this gentle puppy? 

“Roxy!” 

Her voice wouldn’t work. The air around her buzzed and her lungs felt like they were in a vice. Bucky jerked his hand away from her face with a hiss. 

Oh.

The breath she took came as a sob. And more followed. Her hands found her camera as she sank to the ground. Bucky moved it to the side and waved someone off. 

“We’re okay. Anxiety attack, she’s gonna be okay,” he said to the person before turning back to Roxy, “You’re gonna be okay, doll, c’mon. Just breathe, that’s it.” 

She wanted to laugh. The Winter Soldier was helping someone come down from a panic attack and called her ‘doll’. Good Lord. Her mind seemed to catch up before her body did. She coughed and slowed her breathing down. It was another minute of steady breathing before she realized he was rubbing her back and had moved her hair to the side. Roxy sniffed and wiped her face on her jacket sleeve. She grimaced. 

“Well, that’s attractive,” she muttered. Bucky chuckled. 

“C’mon. Let’s get you cleaned up, Mercer,” he said, grabbing her camera as he stood and extending a hand. She raised an eyebrow and took his hand. She didn’t remember telling him her last name. He raised an eyebrow back at her and smirked. 

“You really think I haven’t done my own recon? I just wanted to see how long you were going to stick it out,” he said, handing over her camera. Roxy nodded as she inspected her equipment to find minimal scratching on the DSL screen; the lens seemed fine. 

He started to walk and she followed, wiping tears away with her clean sleeve. Roxy didn’t really notice where he was leading her until she heard the rattling of keys and the creak of the door as he stepped aside so she could enter.  She did. 

The Winter Soldier let some girl who had been tailing him into his home because she had a panic attack. 

What?

Bucky moved some books and newspapers off the couch and offered her a seat. He gave her a water bottle from his fridge and a box of tissues. She blew her nose as he sat down on the other end of the couch. She took a drink once her nose was clear and her face was dry. Silence hung overhead in the apartment and made it feel even smaller. Roxy jolted when she heard a chuckle beside her. 

“What?” she asked, looking at the smirking man beside her. 

“I know this isn’t the best couch in the world, but you can at least try to relax,” he said, scratching at his growing beard, “If I was gonna kill you, I would’ve done it the day you said ‘I’m here to help’.”

Roxy scooted back from the edge and leaned into the couch. Her body felt like it was on high alert, ready to attack, defend, whatever was needed. But as she looked at Bucky sit with his back against the couch arm, one leg bent leaning on the backrest, and hands clasped on his stomach, she just shook her head. This man was something else.  

“So why didn’t you?” 

His eyes narrowed slightly and he pursed his lips. Fingers tapped on the back of his metal hand as he thought to himself. Roxy could see the wheels turning behind his eyes. His chest rose as he took a deep breath.

“I don’t do that anymore. And because I think…” he took another breath, jaw set, and continued, “I think I do need help.” 

Roxy turned to face him fully. 

“Where d’you wanna start?”

~~~~~

“Wait, wait, wait...”

Roxy stopped shredding the chicken and turned to Bucky who opened a can of soup and dumped it into the bowl. He just grinned. 

“You mean to tell me that Steven Rogers had that voice before the serum?” she asked. He just chuckled and nodded as he dumped frozen peas in the bowl. 

“His voice stopped cracking before mine did. I was so mad. Imagine-” he turned to her, leaning a hip on the counter, “a voice fit for a linebacker coming out of a kid who looked like he would fall over if a strong breeze came through, and me at 18, trying to get a date with a dame and my voice cracks.”  

Roxy slid down and leaned against the cabinets in the tiny kitchen, unable to control her laughter at the thought of it all. Bucky laughed along with her, but pulled her up after she wiped her tears away. The casserole would never be done otherwise.

Moments like this had become more frequent in recent weeks. Roxy had rented an apartment adjacent to Bucky’s so she could be available if he needed her. She’d been in Romania for almost four months and progress with Bucky’s memories had been slow but improving. He had been keeping journals and sketchbooks before Roxy had shown up and, after a couple of weeks of talking, he’d felt comfortable enough to share them with her. She had explained at the beginning of it all that she was not a trained therapist or psychologist in any way. She just wanted to be a friend. Thankfully, he accepted her offer. 

Roxy had contacted Rhodey and told him there was an enhanced Hydra operative that wanted out. She asked how she could build a case for him in case they came back and the gracious U.S. government wanted to lock him up. He hadn’t seemed too confident about the scenario but gave her a few pointers anyway. The team still thought she was undercover. Communication was scarce and guilt had started to eat at her resolve like acid. 

As much as she had been there for Bucky, he had been there for her as well. Nightmares plagued her and once he had to forcefully wake her before she caught the building on fire. She had woken up several times to hear yelling from his apartment. Needless to say, the neighbors loved them. 

“My Lord, I would have died. He was such a cutie!” she said, finally putting the completed concoction into the oven. Bucky laughed. 

“He would’ve died if you’d said that to him,” he said, shaking his head. He grabbed the bowl and utensils, put them in the sink, and pushed up his sleeves. “He was always hopeless with women.”

“He’s still hopeless. I called him ‘cutie’ once and he turned red and could not function for a solid minute,” Roxy said, setting a timer on her phone. Bucky dropped his head and muttered something about being a dope. 

“The best part of it-” she giggled, “-we were in the middle of a raid. Pretty sure he got punched in the face, too.” 

Roxy’s face was starting to hurt from all the grinning, but when Bucky threw his head back and clapped a hand to his chest, she had to laugh with him. Her phone rang in her hand and she had to wipe tears away to see the name. Her heart leaped. 

“Hey, I’m gonna take this, okay?” she said, putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. His laughter had died down to giggling, Bucky Barnes giggled, and he nodded and waved her on. She answered as she closed the door to her friend’s apartment. 

“Hey, hot stuff, how are ya?” she said. She went into her apartment and flopped on the couch. She didn’t hear a response for a moment and was about to say something when she heard a deep sigh. 

“Hey, babe…”

“Steve? What’s up? You sound upset,” she said, as she grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest. Her nerves started bubbling up again. Had he found out where she was? She rifled through her mental files and found her prepared speech. Why she didn’t say anything before now, why she didn’t want to tell anyone else exactly what Bucky’s been going through, please don’t be mad. She heard another sigh. 

“It’s...ugh, it’s Ross. And Tony and Nat, of all people. And Peg--” he took a shaky breath before he continued, “Rox…” 

“When d’you need me?” she said. 

Roxy knew that meeting with him for even a few hours would be dangerous for the mission. She knew that if Steve heard she found Bucky he would demand to see him. Bucky wasn’t ready. Roxy’s case for him was growing daily and she felt confident that, with some actual legal help, he would be accepted again. Maybe even join the team. She hadn’t mentioned going back to America yet; Bucky was still not ready. 

Roxy agreed to meet in London and got her plane ticket at that moment. ‘I miss you’s’ were exchanged, and then Steve was called away by Sam in the background. Roxy let her hand fall to her side and sank further into her couch. 

She hadn’t gotten any details really about what Ross was going on about or what happened with Peggy, but something in Steve’s voice made her heart ache. If Ross was involved it had to be big. And for Steve to sound like that… Roxy texted Nat and asked if she knew anything on the matter; she didn’t know anything about Peggy either. Her alarm went off for the casserole. She took a deep breath and went back over to find Bucky getting the dish out of the oven. 

“Heard ya comin’,” he said, setting it down on the stove. He turned to Roxy, but the smile he had fell. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t know,” she said, “Something not good. I have to go to London for a few days, Buck. I know this is short notice, but Steve’s not doing good and I-- I want to be there for him.” 

“Alright. Your boyfriend, Steve, right?” Bucky said as he threw a dish towel over his shoulder. He got plates down and silverware was ready on the counter. “I think I used to know a guy named Steve. You ever get that feeling?” he asked, turning around. 

Roxy’s eyes were on the couch. She was trying to swallow the guilt, the worry, the exhaustion. This happened. They would be talking about Bucky’s past, the conversation would lull or one of them would leave the room for a moment and he would only remember parts of the information given to him. 

“I forgot again, didn’t I?”

Roxy looked up at him. He leaned on the island, his arms crossed, his face neutral, but his eyes were troubled. His breathing was controlled and he swallowed once. She shook her head.

“It’s okay,” she said. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his metal one, he only tensed for a moment. “Is it okay if we watch something mindless? Like Three Stooges or something? I think we both need a break.” She was grateful for the chuckle she received. 

“TV’s in your room. It’s up to you, Rox,” he said, “But you gotta make a decision soon, I’m starving. Look at me, I’m withering away!” He let his body go slack while Roxy still had her arms around his and nearly pulled her down. She just giggled and shoved him. He raised an eyebrow in challenge. 

“Oh, you wanna fight? Fine, I’ll just take this whole thing to my place,” Roxy said. She made to grab the dish but was blocked by Bucky who started scooping his portion onto his plate. She just chuckled and waited her turn, but had to physically shove him out of the way so she could get at the casserole before he claimed it all for himself. 

The earlier part of the day was spent in laughter and the end of the day was spent just the same. Threes Stooges turned into Abbott and Costello and that somehow turned into both RED movies, with Bucky and Roxy both critiquing the action in the movies. 

The next day was not so happy. 

Roxy had packed everything she needed for her trip, went over her mental list five more times, grabbed her keys, and went to Bucky’s apartment. He always locked his door even if he was home, so they had given each other a key to use. They both had gotten used to letting themselves in, so Roxy did just that. 

Bucky sat on the couch in just jeans and still damp hair in a small bun. He traced his scarred shoulder with his right hand and was flipping a combat knife with the other. He stared straight ahead; brow slightly furrowed and he chewed on his bottom lip. 

Roxy stood in the alcove of the door and watched him for a moment. He hadn’t noticed her and she was debating on whether she should leave him be or talk to him. He scowled. He bit his lip so hard she thought he made it bleed. He dragged a nail down a scar with so much pressure it left a glaring white line. 

“Bucky.” 

He blinked. 

The knife stalled in his hand and he swallowed hard. Roxy slowly moved toward him, watching his facial expressions morph rapidly. She ghosted her hand over his metal arm and, with the lightest touch, ran her hand down to where he had stopped the knife. He let her take it. 

“Why do I remember you?”

Roxy set the knife on the table and looked at him. He didn’t look at her. She saw the dark circles under glassy eyes and the red marks on his neck where he’d been scratching. His right hand had stilled, but his left was clenching and unclenching. 

“I barely remembered my name this morning, but I know you,” he said, swallowing again. “Why do I remember you?”

“I don’t know,” Roxy said, hopping up on the table. He glanced at her before scowling at the floor. 

“It could be because I’m new and your brain is processing newer information better than old. It could be because I see you every day and having a constant is usually comforting. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m the one asking you to remember. And seeing me causes you to think about your memories, good or bad,” she said, still watching Bucky’s face. He had pulled his right knee up and was biting his thumbnail, brows still drawn together. 

“Maybe I’m just that annoying.” 

He scoffed, but his brow unknit itself and he rubbed his eyes. 

“Don't give yourself so much credit," he said, dropping his hands to his lap. His shoulders relaxed slightly and Roxy took it as a sign that he had come out of whatever funk he'd been in. Or was coming out of it at least. 

“Alright," Roxy said, as she stood and moved to him again. She smacked his raised knee. 

“C'mon, we gotta go grocery shopping. You are in desperate need of more than just peanut butter bars," she said, “You do have to put clothes on, though, I don't wanna fight every female in Bucharest."

“I don't wanna," Bucky mumbled, head down and picking at his fingernails. Roxy raised an eyebrow.

“Don't want to put clothes on? You literally just need a shirt-" 

“I don't wanna go...out," he said. 

“Tough cookies, you gotta," she said, smacking his knee again. He lowered it and sank deeper into the couch, a pout forming on his face. “C'mon, Buckaroo, you need provisions." 

“I've got stuff…" 

“Yeah," Roxy scoffed, “Enough to last tonight. Dude, it’s Tuesday. It’s grocery day.”

Somehow Bucky managed to sink even lower into the couch cushion. Roxy sighed and rubbed her forehead. 

“Fine, break your routine. You can have whatever’s in my fridge when you want it. I’ve got some hamburger that needs--”

“I’m not taking your food!”

Roxy blinked at the volume change. Bucky looked at her like she had grown seven other heads. 

“I’m not gonna be here for, like, three days. At least. It needs to be eaten or it’s just going to go to waste.” Bucky’s face scrunched at that, and his mouth pulled into an exaggerated frown. Roxy knew she had him. 

“But you need it more than I do--”

“Ha! You eat, like, three times as much as I do!”

“You callin’ me fat, Mercer?”

“I’m callin’ you a glutton.”

“I am not a glutton! And you need it more than me, you’re smaller…”

As Bucky’s voice died, his eyes glazed over and he seemed to look through her. It sent a small shiver down her spine, and she took a half-step back. He licked his lips and a rage that Roxy had only seen once before filled his eyes. 

“I leave him alone for five fucking minutes--”

And then he was standing. 

Roxy took another step back at the sudden movement. Her fingertips sparked and her spine tingled with another, more violent, shiver but she knew the rage was not directed at her. She took a steadying breath through her nose. Bucky’s eyes flickered between hers before looking above and behind her as he raised a hand and splayed his fingers out.        

“Five fucking minutes and he’s part of some crazy science experiment because he wants to prove himself. To himself,” he scoffed and shook his head, “I knew I shoulda got him a leash before I left, I knew it. Cause he’s so damn full of ‘fight me’.” 

Bucky shook his head again and marched into the kitchen. He yanked a notebook off the shelf and a bag of chips were thrown to the floor. He slammed it open on the counter and grabbed the pen inside, but threw his left elbow back as if he hit someone. 

“Fuck off, Morita, you have no idea what that little shit put me through,” he scribbled as fast as his hand would let him. “Gonna get him a chain out of fuckin’ vibranium…” 

Roxy could only watch as he continued to mutter to himself and furiously write what was happening to him. She had witnessed this once before, but that time had been about Peggy putting the whole team to shame with one-armed push-ups, and ‘Steve’s subsequent swooning’ as he put it. 

Roxy took another breath and unclenched her fists; when she’d done that she didn’t know. Her vision blurred with tears and she blinked them back. She had watched him struggle with this for nearly three months. It had been two years since the fall of SHIELD. Since Bucky pulled Steve from the river after giving him a beating that landed him in the hospital. Two years Bucky had to watch and feel and write what was happening in front of his eyes that no one else could see. 

Bucky had admitted to her that he hadn’t left Romania after her introduction because he knew he needed help. He just didn’t want to ask. 

Roxy watched as the muttering and scribbling slowed to a stop and he braced his hands on the counter, his shoulders still tense and head lowered. He jerked his head around when she sniffed involuntarily. Her face was contorted as she tried to hold everything in, but when she saw Bucky’s worried face she ran to him and wrapped her arms around him. 

As much as he had been through, as much as Hydra had done to him, he never stopped to be truly concerned with his own wellbeing. Roxy couldn’t help but wonder what James Barnes was made of because he had one of the biggest hearts she had ever seen. 

Bucky held her and smoothed her hair down as she cried into his chest. Her heart ached for him. She wanted him to be able to sleep without night terrors plaguing him. She wanted him to see Steve and recognize the man that he had influenced so much. She wanted them to meet and be truly happy again. 

She was so tired of watching her friends suffer.

Roxy felt Bucky kiss the top of her head as she calmed down and she smiled. What a dork. She sniffed and apologized as she backed away from him. He kept one hand on her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. 

“You still need to eat that hamburger in my fridge.” 

Bucky never went to the grocery store. Instead, when he heard Roxy was leaving that afternoon he went into full-blown ‘mama bear’ mode. Roxy was not prepared. 

He went through her bags, much to her ignored protest, and added things to her luggage. Snacks, mostly. He went through a list of his own about weapons, where to hide them, and what they should be made out of to pass through a metal detector unnoticed. Roxy had to go behind him and remove three pocket knives (which he knew would be fine on the plane), the pistol she kept under her bed, and ten plastic knives in five different places (“Because no one’s going to question plastic knives,” Bucky said. He just put two in at a time and forgot about the others). 

As she was running around undoing all his extra packing, he talked to her about how to “watch your surroundings, try not to walk alone if you can help it, you’re meeting your boyfriend, right? Take him everywhere. You packed your cute underwear, right? Make sure you use protection. Do you have any? You may want to buy some when you get there--”

Roxy had zipped up her suitcase and hauled it off the bed only to drop it on her feet. She knew her face had to be blood red as she whipped her head around to Bucky who sat on her dresser, arms crossed and kicking his feet. She just gaped at him as he blinked at her. 

“What?” he said, “Don’t tell me you two haven’t done it yet. You’ve been dating, what, almost two years?”

“That doesn’t matter!” she said, her voice squeaking, “And that’s none of your business, James!” 

He leaned toward her, tilted his head, and his eyes narrowed slightly. 

“My God, you haven’t…” 

“I--that’s--it’s a choice! One that neither of us have made yet…” she said. Her face and neck felt like they were on fire as she tried to move the suitcase. It slipped again.

“Tell me you’ve at least done something physical with him?” he said, searching her face. 

“That’s none of your business!” Her voice raised almost two full octaves as she twirled to face him again in what she hoped was righteous fury, but her eyes felt wide as saucers. He merely nodded and smirked at her. 

“Okay, you have, that’s good. At least you two aren’t completely hopeless,” he said, shaking his head.

“First: what makes you think people need to be sexually active to make a relationship work?” she asked, crossing her arms and jutting out a hip, “Second: I didn’t tell you--”

“Down and to the right, Birdie, you were remembering something,” he said, with a devilish grin on his face, “And I never said anything about needing to be sexually active, I’m merely suggesting that it might be good for you.”

Roxy rolled her eyes and huffed at him. He giggled. 

“Besides, I’ve never seen you go that red. Whatever you thought of had to be good.”

“Get out!” 

He laughed as she threw her pillow at him. The fire in her blood came back with a vengeance at his words and she chased him out the door. He took the stairs three at a time and shut his door so quick that it almost came off the hinges, but she could still hear him laugh after she shut her own door. Roxy turned and huffed again, going to her suitcase and setting it by the door. She threw her phone charger into her backpack.

She would be lying if she wasn’t looking forward to having Steve’s hands on her again; to feel his warmth. A hug, a kiss, holding his hand, his hands in her hair, his nails scratching lightly on her thighs, his teeth on her neck…

Roxy shook her head like a cat, her hair flying a bit, and hid behind her hands. Even though Bucky was no longer in the room to see her self-induced embarrassment, she could feel that he was still laughing. The jerk. 

After she composed herself and finished packing her carry-on, she texted Bucky and asked if he was still going with her to the airport. She threw on a jacket, wrapped her scarf around her neck, and turned to see Bucky leaning against her door frame eating a granola bar. 

Roxy jerked and reached to her thigh where her gun should have been. Bucky just smirked. 

“I thought you were supposed to be an Avenger. What did I tell you about paying attention to your surroundings?” Bucky said, gesturing to her with his snack. She made a mocking face, grabbed her backpack, and stuck her tongue out at him as he grabbed her suitcase.

They caught a bus to the airport and Bucky was not happy about leaving her at the door, but Roxy insisted. He shoved his hands in his coat pockets, his shoulders were raised, and his mouth was twisted in an attempt to pout. The two stood by the bus doors while people were filing off, Bucky’s eyes were darting around at all the people and it was Roxy’s turn to be ‘mama bear’.

“Please, Buck, if you need to talk, text me first and the second I can I’ll call you. If it’s an emergency, call. Don’t hesitate. Just call me. I don’t care what time it is. If anything changes, I’ll call you. Please eat whatever you want from my fridge; again, it’s just gonna go bad if you don’t. And don’t forget you’ve got that job on Thursday, do you want me to text and remind yo--”

“Oh my God, Roxy, my memory may suck, but I’m pretty sure you’re not my mother,” Bucky said, holding a hand out to stop her tirade. She blinked at him, mouth slightly open and phone in her hand to set a reminder. A smile grew on her face and she hung her head.

“No, but I think I’m turning into mine,” she sighed and put her phone up, “Gah, I’m gettin’ old. Don’t scoff, I know exactly what I’m saying. Now shut up and hug me, Grumpy.”

Bucky tensed slightly when she hugged him, but relaxed quickly and gave her a squeeze that lifted her off the ground. Roxy smiled. He had gotten so much better with physical affection. Or affection of any kind, really. When they started this journey, Bucky was hesitant about receiving hugs or playful smacks on the shoulder. Giving such affection was another story entirely. 

Bucky Barnes was a hugger. 

And he gave solid hugs, too. Spine-cracking, soul-repairing, big-brother, ‘best-sleep-you-ever-got-with-a-cold’ hugs. He understood that hugs needed to last more than the typical two-second hug received in most greetings. 

Roxy loved his hugs. His hugs reminded her of Tony’s hugs and she desperately missed her brother and all her friends. Once she pushed through the anxiety of not really knowing what she was walking into, she buzzed with excitement that she would see her friends again. If only for a moment.

Bucky put her down and ruffled her hair. Big brother indeed.

“Be careful, Bird,” he said as she stepped back from him. She smiled.

“I will, ya big softie,” she said. She slung her backpack on her shoulder and grabbed the handle of her suitcase, “Be back in a couple days, Buck.” 

Roxy shot him one last smile and made it to the front doors before his voice boomed over the cacophony of the airport: 

“Don’t forget the condoms!”

She stopped dead in her tracks, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was too late. People knew who he was talking to just by her reaction. The fact that she reacted. And the fact that her face felt like it was on fire was a good sign she was blushing like an idiot. She did not turn to see if Bucky was still standing there, grinning like the devil he was. She marched on and tried to focus on finding her plane.

[minnochu]

Interference (pt.25 | End)

Officer!Jimin x Reader

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt 10 | pt 11 | pt 12 | pt 13 | pt 14 | pt 15 | pt 16 | pt 17 | pt 18 | pt 19 | pt 20 | pt 21 | pt 22 | pt 23 | pt 24 | pt 25

(A/n): Wow the end of this big baby. It was just yesterday I was completing Cursed and now this one’s ending T-T. A little sad, but a little relieved ‘cause it’s been a long awaited end and I can start focusing on my other projects and some new ones yet to be written or yet to be published!! Without further ado, I hope you enjoy, I tried to pour as much as I could to make it perfect and give closure to most of everything, if there were any misconceptions or things I forgot to touch up on and left unfinished or unexplained, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask and I will answer to the best of my capability! 

Further apologies for the anticlimactic fighting and hopefully not rushed end. Also any spelling/grammar that I missed v-v

.

“Don’t stay out too late kiddos.”

The wink from your father makes both yours and Jungkook’s cheeks to flush as your younger brother laughs when the latter takes him by the waist and hauls him up onto the elder’s shoulders. Your parents watch from the front door as you and Jungkook head off towards the park for a small picnic. 

“Don’t mind those old geezers,” you sigh exasperatedly, glancing up at the sky that’s still a bright blue with splashes of orange along the horizon as the sun begins to set in the next hour or so. 

The boy beside you laughed heartily, a sound that bring your heart to flutter and beat loudly in your ears as you notice how close you two are walking. 

“It’s cute,” he smiles widely, “I wish my dad was as doting as yours.”

Your grip on the wicker basket is tight as you remind yourself that your best friend was an orphan. He had shared to you that he was left on the streets and begging for anything that passerbys could offer, until his adoptive father came by and took him in. Despite getting picked up, you presumed it was a love hate relationship between them. 

As the sun fell, the sky swirled with red and orange at the horizon. Overhead, the light milky blue has deepened into a darker blue and purple. In place of the sun is now the bright moon with the company of countless stars sprinkling across the sky.

With a full stomach and an ever energetic younger brother still bouncing around the playground, you lounge on the picnic blanket alongside Jungkook. 

“No matter how many times I watch this… it’s always super pretty,” you sigh dreamily, leaning your cheek on arms that are crossed over your knees. 

You don’t notice but Jungkook is smiling at you. Warmth and adoration gleaming in his eyes as he agrees, “Breathtaking.”

At that time, you didn’t know which he was referring to. You. Or the sunset. 

Fingers brushed against your cheek, the touch leaving a trail of warmth as he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear. Your gazes find one another and he takes this chance to lean over. He breaks the trance to slyly glance down at your lips, his own parting as he moves even closer.

This is it, you think, he’s gonna kiss you.

“It’s a shooting star!” Your little brother exclaims suddenly, jumping between you both as you pull apart immediately. He grins toothily as he gleams up at Jungkook, “Hyung, are you gonna be with us forever?!”

Jungkook smiles down at the boy, his eyes closing and arching into crescents as they always did.

“Of course Hojun-ah.”

“I love you and your noona very much.”

.

“Hurry the fuck up!” 

Yoongi glares pointedly at the impatient ravenette. He understood the importance of the situation, but there was no getting past both Ahn and Jungmi if the three of them including Taehyung were calling out early and booking it to the car. It was already weird enough that they were equipped with handguns and bulletproof vests. 

They couldn’t even be sure if the other officers were trustworthy as well if Ahn was the big mastermind behind all these killings. 

As soon as they met in the car, Jimin wasted no time to pull on his seatbelt and went zooming towards the destination saved on Yoongi’s maps when he had dropped you off that one time. 

The car was silent. The gravity of the situation weighed down on their shoulders, each silently praying for your safety as Jimin turned on the alarms to pass by cars easily. Each of their faces were hardened, mouths pulled into taut lines as they stared straight ahead.

He’d long turned off the alarms as soon as he was a block away. Hastily parking and ripping the key from the ignition, Jimin went sprinting towards the apartment. 

Taehyung and Yoongi followed close behind with their guns pointed to the ground as he took the lead and pressed a hand against the front door that had been left ajar. His heart pounded in his ears as he inched his way into the abode. 

Lapping at his dry lips, he could feel a bead of sweat roll down from his forehead, the anticipation too much as he stepped further into the foyer. Yoongi moves to his left into the living room while Taehyung searches the kitchen. Venturing further, he flinches when he hears the crash of glass shattering against the floor. Yoongi catches his look and nods when they hear a cry coming from the hallway.

“Let me go!” Your voice screams in desperation. 

His heart races at hearing your voice once again in what felt like forever after you bid him “good night” last night. Upon hearing your voice, his head snaps up to glare down the hallway to see the door at the end of it. It’s open wide, and every quiet step he takes makes the two figures inside more sharper and coherent as they struggle against one another.

His vision focused, brows furrowing as he makes out the scene before him of the tall figure looming over your struggling one within the room. Clamping his mouth shut, he swallowed the need to shout your name, call for you if you were okay. 

You definitely weren’t as he witnessed your supposed best friend slam the bottom of his gun against your temple before aiming down at you crippled on the ground. 

Rage consumed his mind, his feet kicking off to rush forward and tackle Jungkook to the ground. The impact is just in time to cause his aim to shift and shoot the ground beside you instead. 

“You motherfucker!” Jimin roared furiously as the two toppled to the floor in a mess of flying limbs. His fingers curled into fists as he mounted the younger and landed a punch on his jaw. Another to the cheek, and another square on his nose. Head snapping to the side, Jungkook grit his teeth as the skin of his cheek stung and kicked from underneath him, making an “x” out of his arms to block the next barrage of punches sent his way.

His jaw clenches as he kicks upward to shove the man over his head and scramble to get up when Jimin jumps to his feet and shoves him harshly into the dresser. His back hitting the hard surface causing him to groan as Jimin lands a punch to his face once again. 

Hand flying to his belt, he swiped at the detective’s face with a switchblade in his grasps. The latter narrowly avoiding the knife, blood seeping from the superficial slice on his cheek. Making a move to flip the knife to point backwards in parallel with his forearm, Jungkook drives the blade back in attempt to aim for his jugular. 

Jimin in turn, presses his arm against the other’s to stop the attack, hooking his hand over and under into an arm bar while his hand quickly disarms him of the knife and discards it towards the door.

Close behind, Taehyung is on his radio outside, calling for any nearby officers, as Yoongi hurriedly crouches beside your barely conscious form. Frowning at the apparent bleeding from your feet, the elder hooks his arms under your knees and back, pulling you up and close to his chest. The movement causes you to stir, your mind struggling to stay focused.

“Yoongi…?” You rasp in disbelief, causing the blonde to smile vaguely as he presses you closer to him and makes to leave as quickly as possible to get you out of danger. From over his shoulder, you strain your eyes at the two in the room. You almost don’t even recognize the raven haired man struggling to restrain Jungkook. 

“Ji-Jimin?” You gasp, causing the said man to look back at you. As your eyes meet, his own hardened with rage and yours hazy and confused at their appearance. The detective’s sooty eyes soften at you, before he returns to his bout with your best friend.

Jungkook notices your regained consciousness and grits his teeth as he dodges a punch from the man before surging forward to slam his forehead into his face. Stunning the elder, he ducks and slams his weight against the other’s midsection, shoving him off balance and down as he moves to quickly scramble for the forgotten gun on the ground.

“Don’t fucking touch her!” He stammers, as he fumbles to take hold of the gun and train it on you in the elder’s arms. He glares furiously at the officer holding you so closely, demanding that he let you back down and step away. 

Things were getting out of hand, he shouldn’t have let you live for so long. He shouldn’t have hesitated. Thinking back to that night, he meant to kill you, but another side of him begged himself to put down the gun and run away with you. 

If only you hadn’t witnessed that murder. If only he hadn’t fallen in love with you. If only these stupid officers didn’t interfere. 

I’m so so sorry, he had whispered to you on the ground and bleeding out. At that time, he didn’t realize his hesitation kept you alive. 

“You are in no position to be possessive of her,” Jimin growls menacingly, his boots crunching over the shards of glass as he presses the muzzle of his own gun against Jungkook’s head.

“You wouldn’t,” Jungkook says steadily as he stays trained on you, “You need me alive to solve all those homicides don’t you? Would you rather I put a bullet through her head again?” 

The officer falters, biting his busted lip as Yoongi nods for him to lower his gun. The pressure disappears and Jungkook motions the eldest to set you down. 

“So everything was a lie then?” You ask sadly, steadying yourself on your feet as Yoongi helps you set your feet on the floor. Wincing, you pull your lips into a taut line as you stare back at your best friend. “You befriended me, made me fall for you, killed my family and probably many other people, had me move in with you… all for what? For you to get rid of a witness?”

“In the beginning… yes…” Jungkook admitted, “I had thought it would be an easy kill on my part… but taking the time to get to know you was my best mistake.”

“So why still kill me? You don’t really love me do you?” You bite your lip, knowing that you can only delay your death for so long. 

“I will not let Ahn kill you himself!” He snaps finally with a slight snarl twisting his lips, “And what of you? You don’t really love me, no matter how patient I was to wait for you to return my feelings, you’ve fallen for that stupid detective!”

“What do you mean Ahn?” Jimin asked with a frown, trying to hold back the blush and ignore his last comment. His eyes glanced towards the door, mouth flattening into a frown.

Jungkook glared back at him before shaking his head, “You act like you don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Yoongi’s eyes dart back and forth from you to Jungkook to Jimin. What could they possibly do to get out of this situation unscathed?

“That Ahn’s pulling the strings you fools,” The younger bites back venomously, his gaze condescending as he motions for Jimin to join his fellow on the other side of the room, “He’s the one comping all your evidence, as if you haven’t figure that out already.”

He takes you by the elbow, his gun pressing into the dimple on your head. The pressure is painful, you bite your lip to keep from whimpering as you attempt to pull away and put a distance between yourself and the gun.

“Ahn… that bastard,” Jimin grits as he watches helplessly, if he moved a step he knew you would be shot dead right then and there. Connecting the dots, it made sense why too many cases were left unsolved even though evidence was supposedly found, “Ahn’s your father?”

“Adoptive,” Jungkook shrugs in correction, his nails digging into your skin when you try to push him away again, “I’d rather it be me to kill her, than that asshole.”

“And save your own ass from insubordination, right?” Taehyung pipes up, his phone held in his gloved hand as his other is already trained on the one at your head. Firing two shots at his hand. The pistol goes flying as officers storm passed Tae to apprehend the criminal.

Before Jungkook can move, Jimin comes from behind to slip his arms underneath the younger’s, hands clasping behind his head into a lock.

Yoongi is first to act, grabbing your wrist to pull you away from the thrashing male. Tears well up in your eyes in relief, your dimple throbbing still as he takes you outside where paramedics should soon be arriving.

You look back at your former lover and best friend on the ground with his hands yanked backwards to cuff his wrists together. His eyes meet yours, a glimmer of guilt and sadness reflecting within those chocolate pools as he tears his eyes away first.

That was it.

It was over. Taehyung had evidence over Ahn and Jungkook with his video, the items found in his room and your returned memories, and Jungkook had nowhere to go now, the complex would be surrounded and it would be many against only him. 

You were filled with so many emotions, you couldn’t stop yourself from crying and crying into Yoongi’s shoulder as an ambulance arrived with it’s light flashing violently. He seated you in the back, legs hanging off the edge as the medic questioned you for any other injuries and treated your feet.

As soon as everyone has mostly cleared out, save for some straggling officers who were still inspecting and gathering evidence, you stood in waiting outside by the ambulance for Jimin with Yoongi. By now, the paramedics have finished inspecting you and left you with an ice pack for your head and bandages on your feet from the glass. After it all had gone down, you hadn’t spoken a word to Yoongi other than an answer to if you were good to walk outside and endless sobbing that he couldn’t decipher.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Yoongi says first as he plops his hand on top of your head like he always did, and you always loved it every time, pressing you forward and against his chest in a hug, “We were all really worried.”

Had you looked up, you would have seen an emotional Yoongi for the very first time. He didn’t cry, only his chocolate eyes watered with relief, mouth threatening to make a sound of both sadness and ease. 

Pressed against his front, you can only smile into the fabric of his uniform, tears burning your bleary eyes as you hug his torso tightly in response.

“Thank you for saving me, you… Taehyung… Jimin. Thank you, thank you.”

Blinking away his emotions, he cocks a slight smile as he pulls you away.

“I’ll have you know, Jimin was the most frantic out of all of us. Speeding down the roads and such… you can’t blame him when he could barely handle you leaving them for Jeon.”

You blink at that. Handle? Surely, Jimin had wanted you out of the house more than anything he could want ever. 

The elder notices your confusion and pokes your forehead with a grin.

“Don’t tell me you don’t believe me.”

The look he receives confirms his suspicions, but it only amuses him how oblivious you both are of your feelings. 

“You both really need to kiss or something. You can’t possibly tell me that you bought his whole happy to kick you out act.”

“You both or so oblivious to your own feelings for one another it’s sickening. Do you know how annoying it was to see him all bummed out at work? Only one person is capable of turning someone as prude as Jimin upside down.”

Dodging a weak jab from your part, he perked at the front entrance opening.

“You know what… There he is right now, go get ‘em.”

Yoongi turns away as soon as Jimin is spotted outside of the complex, leaving your side before you can protest. He leaves with a smirk on his face as Jimin finds you, his mouth opening but no words coming out when he just doesn’t know where to start. Before anything can even be said by either of you, a medic comes rushing over to treat the sensitive skin of his bruising cheeks and forehead, and the cuts on his lip and cheek.

He takes a seat right beside you, waiting patiently as the man cleaned up his cuts and bandaged them. He’d even wish for him to go even slower so that he could formulate how to better approach you. When he’s finished, you both sit there in awkward silence, both your cheeks glowing with shyness.

“Um…” he starts unconfidently, wincing at how awkward he sounds. 

You on the other hand stare at him in awe. He was really here. He came to save you and that makes your poor heart lurch excitedly in your chest. God you liked him so much. What were you doing trying to push yourself away from him when in the first place you should’ve been pursuing him. Your memories had nothing against this man. 

“You both really need to kiss or something.” 

Yoongi’s words of wisdom repeat over and over like a curse in your head, your cheeks burning at the thought of kissing Jimin. Glancing down, his lips look plush, despite being busted, you can only imagine the soft and warm they’ll feel against yours. 

You flinch when he looks over and catches you staring. 

You should do it, you conclude. It was now or never. If he rejects you, then he rejects you. The sudden thought makes you deflate momentarily. 

Gulping down the lump in your throat, you lift a shaky hand to cover his. He stills and blinks at the sudden movement, wondering what’s going on in that head of yours. Were you shaken up from being put in such a dangerous situation? 

“Are you okay?” He asks with a bite to his lip.

Oh fuck it, you groan mentally and push forward to press your mouth to his finally. He freezes upon impact, his mind running in all directions as goosebumps run along his arms and up his spine. 

All your confidence comes rushing out of your system with time, like a rug being pulled out from underneath you. He’s stunned and rigid against you, you almost feel bad for jumping him like that. About to pull away and apologize, he finally responds timidly, pressing carefully back against your mouth. 

They’re soft and warm, just like you imagined, tentative as they push lightly back. They press shyly against yours, moving minimally as his eyes slide closed. His hands twitch and his mind begins to function again, sliding his palm over your side and resting one over your neck while the other turns over to tangle with your fingers as you clutch onto his shoulder. His touch is electric, one that you’ve longed for after leaving him and Taehyung behind. Warmth emits from his palm at your neck, making shivers crawl up your spine, but the feeling is welcomed as you sigh into the kiss with relief.

He was home. Security. Just seeing him alright and here in your vicinity brought you ease. It felt absolutely right to be touching him. Which brought you out of your state of bliss into a state of panic. 

Pulling away with a smack of your lips, you blink wildly and yank back your hands from his body in a frantic manner.

“U-Um! I’m sorry! I must’ve scared you or triggered something!” You hurriedly apologize, ruffling your hair in embarrassment, all the while silently admonishing yourself for your bold actions.

Jimin only offers a vague quirk of his lips, unsure how to go about your ousted feelings for each other. There was nothing else to confess when Jungkook said it all back in the apartment. 

You both fell into an uncomfortable silence, staring down at your feet with burning cheeks and racing hearts. 

“So you dyed your hair black?” You say as soon as you find it awkward just sitting there. It was awkward from the start anyways. How much more could you ruin your reunion?

Glancing at him to gauge his expression, he shuts his mouth and swallows what he was about to say. Pursing his lips, he shakes his head and scratches the hair on the back of his neck.

“Yeah..” he answers, dipping his head to look up at the sooty bangs hanging over his eyes.

You giggle at that, finding comfort in the adorable way his eyes cross in order to scrutinize his bangs. 

“I really liked you as a carrot head though.”

.

It had all happened like a storm. Quick and messy as the office was put into a disarray. Ahn would be taken into custody, questioned, and tried for his actions. Jungmi would be arrested for aiding and abetting, along with the other caught members of their organization. 

What would hurt you the most is the conviction of Jeon Jungkook. After killing many, there was no doubt he’d receive capital punishment by the South Korean government and be hung for his crimes. The thought made your heart break, but the other side of you believed it was what he deserved after manipulating your life and taking everything away from you.

“So what are you going to do now?” Jimin asks after the final trial. Jungmi was gone. Ahn would also be gone and Namjoon would take his place as leader. Jungkook would receive punishment.

The detective shooed away his lingering partner and adoptive brother, when they see you both standing by his car and send flirtatious and suggestive looks his way. His cheeks flushed at the implication of what your answer could mean for both of yours’ futures and relationship with one another. Would you move on and finally live now that you remember everything and your killer was now out of your life? 

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Sure you both had kissed that day. It might’ve been your frazzled nerves and the heat of the moment, the adrenaline of a hostage situation and finally ending the mysteries of many unsolved cases. But he had really thought that sudden kiss had meant there was some hope that you both felt the same. 

Dare he admit it to both himself and anyone who knew of his complexes with women, he’d fallen for you. He didn’t know when, but he couldn’t deny how much he wanted you to say you wanted to be with him again, and this time as a couple and not as an assignment.

You must’ve noticed the timidness in his question and meekness in his expression. There was that sweet and angelic smile he came to adore and not be fearful or disgusted by. 

Reaching up, your hands smooth over his cheeks, fingers brushing and weaving into his black tresses. The movement causes strands of dark charcoal to fall over his eyes, reminding you of their once brilliant orange hue. 

He gazes back down at you and returns your smile. It’s merely small, a slight quirk at the corner of his plush lips, but it’s an improvement from before. When you first met him, he was all scowls and glares. It was truly a development to see him smiling down at you without being forced. The way the corner of his lips slowly spread even more and how his eyes curved into shapes akin to the moon, it makes you shiver and your heart thrums excitedly in your chest at such a blissful sight. You’d give anything to kiss him again. Those very lips that curve into such a bewitching smile that tilts your world like so.

“I really liked the orange you know,” you joke with a soft giggle.

“Don’t avoid the question dumbass,” He chides with a soft sigh when your right hand slides along his cheek and down the nape of his neck to pull him down, “But we can make arrangements if you’d like.”

Goosebumps arise in their wake, and his muscles tense out of habit, but he relaxes after a while, breathing in and out steadily as he tells himself that’s it’s only you.

The tip of his nose meets yours. 

His gaze flickers downward towards your own mouth.

“I’m not avoiding… I was just thinking about everything that’s happened. I just… want you to know that I didn’t need to know who I was after all… The only thing that matters to me is my life with you… and Taehyung and Yoongi… and-”

He stops you in the middle of your rambling to press a chaste kiss on your lips. Eyebrows sewn together in a mock glare when he pulls away quickly. His cheeks rapidly flush a bright red in embarrassment of his own actions as he pinched your hip. Even without you initiating the intimate gesture, it was too much for his poor heart and body to touch a female on his own accord.

“Ok you had me and then you lost me when you mentioned Tae.”

“Sorry,” You reply in awe, but he’s already turning to enter the car.

“Come on, we gotta start moving all your shit back to our place. No more interferences from now on.”

Smile spreading across your face, you feel a slight bounce in your step as you answer with a bright “Yes!”.

*Extra ending*

“Um I’d like to make a stop first before we go to the hotel,” You request timidly when Jimin starts the engine. After the whole situation, you were promptly forced to stay temporarily at a hotel while the officers searched Jungkook’s home. It was finally deemed ready for you to collect your things a week ago.

It was a good two hours of crying your eyes out and sobbing against your palm as you stuffed your clothes into boxes that would sit idly in your hotel room. You had stared at the photo albums and scrapbooks filled with memories of Jungkook and yourself for nearly another hour of crying before tossing them into the trash after a good and remorseful glance through each page. The only memory of him you decided to keep was the one that had pictures of you, him, and your little brother, Hojun. One of the detectives found it deep within Jungkook’s closet, probably on the shelf you’d found the box of your family’s eyeballs. It was not only Hojun, they were rare, but there had definitely been pictures that included your parents and grandmother.

It made it all the more harder to accept the fact that Jungkook would leave this world, and you knew that at some point in time you both did sincerely care for each other. Under different circumstances maybe you would’ve been together, but you threw that thought in the trash when Jimin put a hesitant but comforting hand on your shoulder.

After your memories came back, you remembered the reason why you ran to Jungkook in the first place. It was not only the fact that he was the only person left in your life. 

You didn’t have anywhere to go when your house had been burned to the ground.

Jimin notices the way your smile is more melancholic than it should be, eyes focused on your hands in your lap. His fingers twitch to take them in his, but he gulps and mentally kicks himself for hesitating when you look up at him.

“The cemetery.”

He didn’t think twice, stopping by a local market to pick up flowers, before arriving at the cemetery and crematorium. With your returned memories, you must’ve remembered where your family’s ashes had been kept. The staff welcomed the two, bowing respectfully as you both walked down the aisles. Each wall held numerous square tiles belonging to an individual deceased, an ivory-colored plaque in the center with their name, life time, and a sometimes a picture of them above. The plaque would be bordered by golden corner frames with a similar colored holder on the side for flowers. 

Jimin stayed silent as you reached the consecutive row of squares that contained your mother, your father, Hojun, and your grandmother. Your hands trembled as you place flowers in each of their holders.

‘I’m so sorry for forgetting you all,’ You think as you bow deeply to your family and bring your hands up clasper together, ‘Thank you for watching over always, I’m alive, I’m well, and I’ve made it through my difficulties. I just couldn’t have done it without the man beside me.’

Tears slowly roll down your cheeks as your emotions swirl inside you and build up. 

Jimin bites his lip as he reaches to tap you on the shoulder, gaining your attention as you blink back tears to ask him what’s going on. He smiles slightly and takes your hand in his, their warm and protective as they grasp yours firmly.

He leans forward, bowing deeply just as you had, and looks at each one with a sense of admiration and respect.

“Hello,” He starts, although he falters when he hears you muffle a soft giggle out of amusement when his cheeks burn brightly, “My name is Park Jimin and I would like to thank you all for bringing such a beautiful person into this world.”

“As of now she is in my care, and she is the most important and special person in my life,” he continues as he turns to glance at you shyly, “I ask that you continue to watch over her as you always have and I promise that I will always strive to protect this woman because I love her.”

“She saved me. No matter how many times I had been rude to her at first, she continued to break the mold I had thought of females. Please forgive me for my initial behavior towards your daughter, I hope to treat her as she deserves from now on.”

His speech is soft spoken but determined in sending his message as he turns to glance at you. The hand holding yours had been shaky at first, but he holds it with promise and adoration as he whispers a soft ‘I love you’.

.

[End]

Wow! Let me know what you think! I added in a little cheesy extra end because I thought it would be nice for a little closure for the MC. Thank you for reading this rollercoaster of a mess! I hope you guys enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing, I looked this over so many times to ensure it would be as close to perfection as it could get! Hopefully it’s not too rushed and once again thank you for reading!!

Since this is the end... please anticipate an Yoongi x Reader spin off ;’)

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Hi I hate to ask this but I've had the worst day of my life, a sprained ankle and then a car accident. It's been horribly rough. Could I get a small one shot Lucas fic of taking a liking to and comforting a found captive?

Don’t apologize for asking, Anon. That sounds like a terrible day. I hope you recover mentally, physically and financially very soon. Car accidents are terrible and a sprained ankle is rough. I hope this fic helps ease some of the crappy feels that today has given you. Much love for you on your road to recovery.

It started off with Lucas getting bored enough to watch all the VHS tapes he could salvage - ending up with a bundle of his Ma’s collection and nothing else to do. So, he sat around with his thumb up his ass and suffered through Beaches, Titanic and… some stupid Wayne Newton thing while eating bags of cheese puffs and peanuts.

By the end of Steel Magnolias, he felt like someone had ripped his balls off and sewn a pussy on him. All he could think about was cuddling and fawning over a girl of his own, and it made him nearly sick.

He sat around for another two days thinking about what it’d be like to have a girlfriend and jus’…hold hands. Hold hands?! Like he was some fuckin’ prepubescent brat. He wanted to fuck and cum balls deep in some hot cunt, not sit around and hold hands all day. But he did, and so he sat around with a blank TV and a heartache, not knowing what to do with himself.

On the third day of his self-inflicted misery, the ol’ man came in with two bodies.

“Morgue’s overrun, boy. I’m sticking these down in the stalls. They ain’t been fed yet so don’t you touch ‘em, ya here?!”

“Whatever,” he replied, not thinking twice about it cause on account of the goop his brain had become and got a nice crack in the back of his head with a baseball bat for his trouble.

After dear ol’ dad had taken down a charter bus full of shitheels lookin’ to spend the weekend in New Orleans for the big fuckin’ Mardi Gras parade, Lucas got stuck with two captives when the basement started overflowing with new arrivals. Two too many, he grumbled, hearing one of them start screamin’ after only two hours strapped up.

Ain’t nobody got time fer this, he thought.

He had other shit to do (he didn’t), and it wasn’t even like he could use ‘em for test subjects either so what good were they but an annoyance? They’d both been there since this morning, and it only took until now for Lucas to realize one of ‘em wasn’t screaming - hadn’t been since Daddy brought ‘em by.

Typically it wouldn’t peak his interest - the silence - but the last bitch he’d tossed in the rat’s nest had long since turned to bones, and he was bored. The tapes had made him weak at heart, and he couldn’t stand watching another one of his Ma’s sentimental tear fests.

Just the thought was making him wanna puke.

Lucas hunched over his desk, frowned and gave the little joystick a push to the right, panning camera nine over to the quiet one all tied up in one of the horse stalls.

A girl, Lucas noticed immediately. She was quiet, reserved and hadn’t moved much. Without much reason to, Lucas hadn’t gone down since they’d been brought in and secured to their posts. He hadn’t bothered to look at ‘em either since he wasn’t supposed to play with ‘em. Shoulda took a little trip down though, cause the chick looked kind of hot once he zoomed in a bit. Get rid of the blood and dirt, and she’d been the nicest lookin’ bitch to ever get past the gates.

“Ain’t it just peachy ah’ get stuck with a dumb whore in the barn…” he grumbled.  She looked like one too (not really), but guess that coulda’ been the fact that she’d been stripped down to her panties. At this angle, he couldn’t see her tits, but her back was bare, so she wasn’t wearing a bra or nothin’.

Shame - shame he didn’t have a good angle for a free viewing.

His Pa never said he couldn’t have himself a look-see. As long as he didn’t chuck her in the Birthday Room, who cared if he had a little fun? All he wanted was a look and maybe a hug or some snuggles - No! No, he just wanted to watch her heaving tits as he jerked off on the floor in front of her. He wanted to slip his dick between ‘em and… ugh…

Lucas wanted good night’s sleep with a warm body beside him, in all honesty. It got pretty lonely now that he was off the grid more or less - just enough connection established to contact his people and set up communication between all the cameras and speakers. No more porn to toss his rocks off to. No cam girls to watch while he fucked his fist, pretending it was a pussy. And now, worst of all, he’d brainwashed himself into wanting something more innocent than a good fuck. Maybe when the girl down in the barn passed out, he’d go lay next to her…

The girl down in the stall shifted, stretching a long pale leg across a bed of musty hay.

Shit! Where was his Polaroid at? Worse case scenario he’d snap a picture of her and lay in bed looking at it like a freak.

Four upturned boxes and a messy bed later, Lucas was loading up his ol’ polaroid camera with a dozen blanks, fingers shaking. He was only a bit ashamed of how low he was willing to go for some semblance of intimacy, but hell… he was desperate, and it was hard enough keeping his head clear as it was.

It was pretty pointless, but he rubbed his face clean of the blood from earlier and threw his door open. Lucas kicked his heels into the stairs, eyeing the molded that were hanging off the walls. They’re gaping jaws clicked open, swinging towards him jus’ enough to know it wasn’t some escapee running fer the hills. One of ‘em gurgled, gagged and puked up a messy wad of bones as Lucas passed it by.

Easily ignored, when his heart was busy jackhammering at the thought of this girl his Pa had brought in.

The girl was sitting in the stall, a chain wrapped around her waist, connecting her manacled wrists and branching out to the pole she was resting against. She didn’t have much wiggle room, but all in all, it wasn’t as bad as getting cramped into one o’ them dog crates.

She didn’t even bother lookin’ at him as his sneakers crunched over brittle hay, pausing outside the wooden gate. A fountain of pale hair hung down in front of her face, covering the tops of her tits.

“Hey-hey, come on, bitch! Wake up!” He snorted as she jerked but did little else. Only when he growled and gave the gate a hard kick did she swayed. A hint of perky nipple poked out of her thick hair as she lifted her head; blood-matted hair slipping out of her eyes. Blue eyes, like his own, looked up at him, gazing under wet lashes.

She was a hottie, and Lucas was struck half dumb for a good long minute jus’ looking at her.

“My leg’s broken,” she whispered. Pain made her voice throaty, ragged enough he found himself licking his lips, wondering if he should have brought her a soda or somethin’. He palmed his Polaroid, nodding to her with the tip of his chin.

“I’ll set it fer ya if ya give me a smile. I’ll even bring you upstairs and get ya somethin’ to eat. How about that? Sounds like ah sweet little deal, don’t it? Jus’ gotta say cheese!”

“It doesn’t and I won’t,” she said, leaning back against the wooden pole, exposing her bare tits through a curtain of dirty hair, uncaring.

Lucas popped himself a picture without obscuring his view with the shitty glass lens. All she did was blink at the flash and nothing more. No rebuttal, no tears or anything else he’d have expected. Hell, Lucas even had a running shower up there. How could she say no that kinda offer?

Slowly, checking the barn entrance with a narrowed look, he smashed the lock on the gate and swung it open. The noise or the implication made her stiffen over the hay bed. In her lap, she curled her fingers and closed her eyes. Dry, cracked lips, which probably looked pretty full and sexy when she wasn’t dehydrated, mouthed words… no, they mouthed numbers.

Lucas shoved his shoulder into the wooden post as he read her lips while she chanted math equations, solving for X and Y in some weird, brainy coping mechanism. Probably thought he was gonna rape her or somethin’. All the chicks that came through here thought he would…kinda got insulting after ah while.

“Ya forgot to carry the four, sweetheart…” he told her, watching as she ignored him, continuing despite her fuck up.

Kinda interesting. Usually, everyone just begged and screamed for someone to come rescue ‘em - like they were a princess in some wild fairy tale. This one accepted her fate, or at least what she thought was gonna happen, and did her best to prepare for it. Lucas liked that - respected it. And so he yanked the film from his camera, gave it a couples flaps until the badly lit sight of her with those cute tits came full color. He threw the picture at her, snorted when she kept on dividing and subtracting and left her there.

It wasn’t until the next morning that Lucas got itchy again.

All night he’d been watching her through the camera, ignoring the stupid asshat in the stall beside her as he screamed. It was hard to see through the snowy lenses, but Lucas was pretty sure she was still miming mathematics to herself. She didn’t sleep, at least not for more than half an hour maybe. Her unbroken leg would kick or stretch and once he saw her turn her head up towards the camera, staring at him.

“Come and do it already,” she’d say, making his gut churn sickly.

After his ol’ man had come in for the retard with the broken vocal chords, Lucas stuffed a bag of skittles in his pocket, grabbed a can of soda and hopped the stairs to see his adorable brainiac.

She was docile, only watching him, never begging, as he swung the gate open and stepped inside. The stall was narrow but spacious, but Lucas threw himself down beside her despite having enough room to host an orgy if he wanted. The girl tipped her head back and breathed deeply, ready for whatever she thought he was gonna do.

“Skittles?” he offered, shaking the packet near his jaw with a feral grin that made his cheeks ache. He’d forgotten how to smile, so a grin would have to do.

The barest touch of her tongue between her lips made Lucas swallow. In her lap he noticed her fingers twitch.

“…why?”

He didn’t need a reason, but he had one, ‘course he did. Lucas wasn’t gonna tell her, though, so he just shrugged and tore the corner off the packet, shaking a few into his palm. All he needed to do was stare at her hands fer a few seconds before she got the idea and offered her palms to him; shackles clinking. Bruises and bloody scabs ran like bracelets around her wrists.

He dropped a few sickly bright skittles into her palm and watched her wince, trying to put them in her mouth. If he weren’t so sure she’d bite his fingers off or curl her nose in disgust, he’d have fed them to her.

“So, ya like numbers, huh?” He waited for her to say something, but she merely sucked the Skittles in her mouth with half-closed eyes; savoring the sugar in silence.

“Me too,” he sighed, scooting a little closer to her until he just missed bumping her broken leg.

“My Pa said I was gifted when ah’ was younger. But hell! - Guess geniuses go crazy every damn day, huh? Jus’ another one with a bad brain.” It felt better talkin’ to someone that wasn’t Eveline…or imaginary like Oliver had been (sometimes still was). Even if she didn’t talk back, Lucas liked laying back in the barn with her. Nothin’ else better to do anyhow and it was the closest he dared to get to something resembling cuddles. Not that he wanted that… obviously.

“… can I have some more?” she asked, sounding so tiny and small that somethin’ in Lucas started to hurt. He looked up at her from the soft ground, saw how empty her eyes were - like a dead sea - and handed her the whole bag of skittles. The little, hopeless smile she gave him made his chest tighten like there was a hook buried in it.

The only thing that sucked about dosing himself with that serum was all the emotions he had coming back to him. That’s all it was. Could’ah done without ‘em, if he were honest, but the girl ate her candy through the pain, meeting her hands halfway down and somethin’ about giving her that little act of kindness made him wanna do more and more… and more.

For the next two days, he spent most of his time either telling himself not to go down and see her, or sitting with her in the barn, feeding her junk food, handing her bottles of water or talking to her (actually talking to himself, but that was neither here nor there).

Eventually, he went down to see her with a real goal in mind - not just trying to keep her alive. He brought the bolt cutters with him. The ol’ man wouldn’t sweat one little captive - not when he had dozens of ‘em fresh and ready to be hatched. If his Pa said anything, Lucas could just tell ‘im the molded got hungry and climbed the gate. Easy.

She withdrew at the sight of him with the cutters in hand, but still, she didn’t beg or scream. Lucas cut her chains without a word and tore her manacles off as easily as if they’d been clay. When he grabbed her around the waist, careful of the raw red skin where her chains had been, he felt her muscles tighten. Not one to take that shit personally, Lucas tried to smile but ended up grinning and slung her over his shoulder… only then did she scream. He could feel her tears soak through the back of his hoodie and her broken leg bang against his chest.

Lucas tried not to let the sounds of her agony bother him, but they did. Every step made him wince as she bawled her eyes out, shouting and begging him to stop - that it hurt 'it hurt so bad!’

In a few minutes, she’d be right as rain, but the pathetic, sloppy sounds still wedged their way under his skin somehow.

She sobbed when he set her down on his couch, fingers running along her broken thigh like fluttering leaves; listless. Pain lined her body - her face and brows. The lights above their heads highlight the heavy fall of tears that made Lucas feel guilty for some fucking reason. Not like he’d broken her leg…

He grumbled and left her there to her misery as he went to the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of the good stuff for her and his last candy bar. Maybe she’d be more apt to forgive him if he showered her with sugar. Wouldn’t hurt, right? - And he was pretty desperate at that point.

When he returned, she was halfway across the floor, dragging herself towards the door. A long, scattered line of dark blood following her line a snail trail.

“Hahaaaa’ah shit, sweetheart. Where’d you think yur goin’? Ain’t nothing out there but moldy freaks with them teeth waitin’ fer ya,” he laughed at her, hamming it up as his gut pulled when she merely whimpered and pulled herself another few inches across the floor.

Badass, bitch. Smart and sturdy and cute… didn’t find many of those anymore. Not that Lucas would know really. He never did get out much before Evie showed up - didn’t do much talking to girls even before he was labeled the crazy head.

Lucas swallowed and knelt down beside her, pulling at her ankle. She howled, hissed and threw a fist into his face. Took him by surprise, but it was weak and barely did more than sting. He hadn’t meant to pull at the busted leg like that.

Didn’t matter, though. He was gonna fix her, and she could hit him all she wanted if it made her feel better, Lucas could take it even if she broke his jaw. He gave her a hard look and poured the bottle’s cool, slick contents over her thigh.

Those wet blues fluttered closed, as the shit took effect.

“… I can feel my bones snapping.”

Lucas grinned, biting his lip to keep most of the infectious glee inside until he could breathe it back down, “Yeah, how about that? Feelin’ pretty good by now I reckon.”

She twisted at the waist, running a hand over her healed thigh before giving him a calculating look, “I-I don’t understand.”

“Bout what?”

“Everything,” she whispered, pulling her legs in, laying an arm over her chest with a slight blush. Guess now that she wasn’t in so much pain she had enough sense to be embarrassed by her tits hanging free. Lucas liked lookin’ at ‘em, but that free fun was over. If he’d wanted to keep ogling her, he coulda just kept her in the horse stall. Naw, Lucas wanted her - wanted to hug her close and wash away the blood and dirty, pat the wounds dry and kiss them better. It was real fuckin’ sappy and stupid and yet he didn’t bother worrying about it now that her leg was healed.

“T-this,” she started, inhaling brutally as Lucas dared put a hand on his calf, “you can’t kill her, take her away from me like that - you can’t snap my fucking leg in half and throw me in some damn pig pen and… and… and feed me candy like some pet and now this?!”

Lucas frowned, feeling like someone had a knife stuck in his stomach, giving it a good wiggle with each seething word.  She shook and cried silent tears, staring heatedly at him while he sat there frozen, just wanting to wrap his arm around her.

As more grief poured outta her, her lips started to quiver like they were hooked up to car batteries, “That asshole h-he killed 'er and now you wanna… just do it already! Just do it!”

Her fists coiled and like a feral cat, she came at him, throwing a jab at his chest and another up into his chin.

Lucas hissed, grabbing at her wrists and pulled her up over his thighs, keeping her claws out of his eyes as she trembled and sobbed; leaking wet tears down into his lap. The only crying girl he’d helped was Zoe when they were teenagers when some cunt had called her fat during lunch. This was… Lucas tried to stop looking at her tits as they bounced while she cried - sought to halt the boner from growing between his legs as her hair tickled the back of his hands. Her eyes opened wide, stared up at him, and suddenly she collapsed into his chest; sniffling.

“Ain’t gonna rape ya…” he told her; pretty lame sounding in truth, but he wasn’t sure what to do with a crazy chick in his lap, curling her fingers around his sides… hugging him hatefully. Bitch was insane, but Lucas couldn’t ignore the warmth he felt as she held him around the middle, trying to suck some sort of comfort from him.

Lucas found himself wrapping his arms around her, holding her bare shoulders, rubbing her shivering, naked back as she whimpered into his chest. Shit circumstances and all, but Lucas loved every second of the contact. She was warm and soft…

“Shh… Hush, now,” he muttered, doing what his Mama used to do for him when he had nightmares… or scuffed up his knees on the stairs. The words just sorta came out without much thought to it, and before Lucas knew what was happenin’, he was whispering sweet nothings to this chick while she breathed easy against him. There on the floor, he held her, feeling her heart thud gently against his stomach.

It was the first real intimate contact he’d had since Eveline showed up, long before that even…and suddenly he couldn’t get enough of it. Lucas groaned, pulling her up and cradled her carefully in his lap. She only struggled for a second before sinking into his arms silently, breathing slow and gentle. Lucas inhaled the stale, blood tinged smell of her hair, found something sweet buried underneath the dirt and sighed.

“Thanks,” he muttered; lips on her scalp. Down beside his stomach, he felt a soft touch, like a thumb brushing the jut of his ribs and shuddered in pleasure.

If this was how good it felt to be held - to hold - and offer comfort then Lucas decided he wasn’t gonna let his Pa get this one. Lucas was gonna keep her safe and sound, and she wasn’t ever gonna feel pain again. If he had to kill ‘em all… he’d do it, just to keep her from cryin’ ever again.