#I'm doing the thing where the covers comes only after the chapter

[eirianerisdar]

Hiiiii I’ve only just seen it but if youre still doing the directors commentary thing I was gonna ask about Icarus? :) and the ⭐️ for whatever part you choose

(and just wanted to say your writing is so beautiful, I’m loving reading it so much thank you for sharing <3)

Oh ye I'm going to go on an absolute rant about Brocedes

An excerpt from chapter 30 of Icarus, when Lewis has just strained his newly regrown wings on a highly unadvised first flight after having grown out his primaries again for the first time in sixteen years, and runs into Nico by chance on an old clifftop haunt of theirs above Monaco. It's purely mutual pining in that uniquely Brocedes way

For the uninitiated, Icarus is an F1 wingfic that covers most of the grid, with the theme of wing trimming as a representation of unhealthy practices in motorsport forced upon drivers.

=====

A shape appears out of the rising sun, brown-white sparrowhawk feathers silhouetted against the dawn.

Unlike Lewis’s haphazard landing a minute earlier, Nico’s is elegant and precise; he comes out of his dive twisting in a perfect diagonal to the clifftop, one wingtip brushing the ground and the other pointed towards the sun, and lands on silent feet. He is wearing a tailored flight-suit that fits him as well as his race suit used to; the small backpack slotted between his wings has a molded plastic shell for better aerodynamics.

Nico folds his wings, and stares.

“Lewis?” he says, shocked. “What are you doing here?”

Lewis is suddenly all-too aware of the dirt ground into his skin, smeared over his t-shirt and ratty running sweats. His wings are caked with sand and grime from his less-than perfect landings; his palms are smarting with a dozen shallow cuts from hauling himself back up onto the clifftop.

He finds his voice. “What are you doing here?”

It comes out more accusing than Lewis intended. Nico’s face closes; his sparrowhawk wings flatten against his back.

“I come here often,” he says. “I fly up here every morning.”

Lewis doesn’t miss the implication that he is the intruder here, not Nico.

Lewis doesn’t know why that hurts so much. Maybe because he shouldn’t feel so out of place here, in this little sanctuary tucked against the Monaco cliffs where he and Nico had watched the sun rise and set so many times.

Nico ventures closer. His eyes are on Lewis’s wings. “You really did it,” he says oddly. “You grew out your wings.”

Lewis sets his jaw, raises his chin. “Yeah,” he says challengingly. “What about it?”

Nico flinches and looks away. His chest rises and falls faster than usual.

It would seem that even after all this time, Lewis still knows how to get a rise out of Nico. Lewis should feel vindicated, but he doesn’t. Something about the way Nico is holding his wings makes Lewis feel sick.

Nico crosses over to a flat-topped rock a careful distance away and sits. The two of them face the sunrise like they have done so many times years ago. The wind that ruffles both their feathers brings with it the scent of the sea.

Lewis closes his eyes. The sun sears his skin, turns the backs of his eyelids orange-yellow. There is so much he wants to say, but he doesn’t know where to begin. He could start at Abu Dhabi, at that awful Sky interview. He could go back to 2021, when he had finally admitted to himself and to the press that he could have been a better teammate to Nico.

He could go back to Barcelona 2016; the ache in his shabby wings in the garage, and the brief moment of blessed, cool relief when Nico had brushed a hand through Lewis’s wing.

It was the last time either of them had touched each other’s wings. Their crash and DNF at Barcelona had snapped the last threads that held them together as flock.

Lewis waits for Nico to say something, but Nico stays silent. It stings.

Lewis sneaks a glance at his former flock, finds Nico already looking at him – not at his dirt-smeared face or messy braids, but at his wing plumes, pooled carelessly in the dust at the base of the rock he is seated on.

In the dawn light, Nico’s clean, well-brushed feathers are painted in peach and ochre. Lewis bristles, waits for Nico to make an unsavoury comment.

But Nico just clasps his hands together in his lap, tight enough that the knuckles go pale. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Your wing plumes are longer than I remember,” he says hoarsely.

Oh. Lewis looks down at them, at his draped double-cloak of gold, white, and maroon.

“Yeah,” he says. A gust of wind blows dirt over the end of one of his plumes; he nudges it carelessly with the toe of his trainer, but only succeeds in matting the feather ends with even more dirt.

Nico makes an abortive motion towards Lewis.

Lewis looks at him sharply, watches Nico fold his hands into fists on his knees. Nico’s face is pinched.

Lewis breathes through the bitterness. He knows he is intruding on Nico’s space by being here. It’s just that a part of him thought that he would still have a place here, where they had shared so many happy memories.

He can’t even leave; his wings still hurt too much to chance anything other than a glide.

Nico’s feathers rustle as he stands. “I’m going to head back,” he says quietly. “You coming?”

Lewis shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. “I’m going to sit a while longer.”

The flight muscles of his right wing ache dully; he shakes it out carefully, fighting a wince.

Nico is suddenly standing within arm’s reach, blocking out the sun. “Your wing,” he says, frowning. “You’ve got flyer’s cramp.”

“It’ll pass,” Lewis snaps, folding his wing back against his spine even though that makes it hurt worse. “I’ve got it handled.”

“You shouldn’t fly back alone,” Nico says seriously. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll even let you get there first.”

Lewis tenses at the implication. He hates competition not treating him seriously – Nico most of all.

“I’m fine,” he says testily. “It’s just the thermals. I rode them up, I’ll find a way between them to glide back down again. I’ll manage.”

“The thermals?” Nico frowns over his shoulder at the dizzying drop down towards the sea. “Where did you fly here from?”

Lewis works his jaw. “The beach,” he says.

Nico turns on him instantly. “The beach?” he exclaims. “Are you fucking – you can’t have unsheathed your feathers more than a few days ago!”

Lewis doesn’t reply, but Nico reads him anyway.

“Oh my God,” Nico stares. “It hasn’t even been a few days, has it? This is your first fucking flight.”

Lewis jerks his chin. “What about it?”

Nico puts his face in his hands. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Are you insane? Who flies up a cliff for their first flight in sixteen years? Do you want to die?”

Lewis hates to admit it, but laying it out like that puts it into perspective. He isn’t usually one to take such risks. He let his hunger for freedom override his common sense.

“That’s it,” Nico says. He jerks his head towards the cliff edge. “I’m making sure you get back without killing yourself. Let’s go.”

Lewis looks at the edge of the cliff. The wind has picked up even more now that the sun has fully risen; bits of rock and dirt swirl in the wind to tumble off the lip.

He doesn’t want to name the feeling that roots him in place.

Lewis Hamilton has never been one to admit fear.

Nico strides over to the cliff edge, draws a sharp line in the dirt with the toe of his flight boot. “Come on,” he snaps. “I’m not leaving unless you’re with me.”

Something about that phrase twists Lewis’s stomach, uncovers a bitter wound.

Because Nico had left. He’d left Lewis to race on alone.

“What is it?” Nico says. “Is your wing still cramping?”

Lewis shifts his wings. “No.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Lewis opens his mouth, closes it again. Looks away.

If there’s anything he hates most in the world, it’s looking weak in front of Nico Rosberg.

“I don’t think I can make it,” he admits.

Nico stills. “What?”

Lewis breathes a bitter laugh. “I know what it sounds like,” he says, looking down at his dirt-splattered wing plumes. “But I’m gonna be honest with you, man. I don’t think I can make it.”

Nico doesn’t respond. He looks like a statue stood on the cliff edge, his golden hair a halo around his head, his wings of carven marble.

Lewis runs his scraped palms together. “I don’t know the thermals,” he says, swallowing the shame. “They’re so different from what I remember. I keep getting pushed higher. My flight muscles aren’t strong enough to fight my way out if I get caught in one.” He gestures at himself, at the dirt ground into his wings, his clothes. “I barely made it out of the clouds and back here.”

Silence, save for the cry of gulls in the harbour below and the whistling wind.

Flight boots stomp against dirt and rock as Nico stalks over, grabs Lewis by the collar, and shakes him, hard.

Lewis’s hands come up automatically, but Nico has already let go. Lewis watches as Nico turns in a flare of sparrowhawk feathers to pace the dirt of the clifftop.

Nico snaps to a halt, glares down at Lewis. “I can’t fucking believe what I’m hearing,” he hisses. “You’re not some damsel in distress. You’re Lewis fucking Hamilton.”

Lewis stares up at Nico’s furious face. This isn’t what he expected at all.

“Lewis Hamilton doesn’t back down from a fight,” Nico snarls. “What the fuck happened to you? You always said you could do anything as long as you pushed hard enough. So get up. Push.”

Lewis bristles. “Easy for you to say,” he spits. “You’ve had six years to learn the air patterns and train up your wings. Don’t pretend we’re on equal footing.”

Nico’s face whitens. For a moment Lewis thinks Nico will punch him; but Nico only exhales and looks over his shoulder at the cliff edge.

“It’s not as complicated than it looks,” he says abruptly. “It’s just that new building down where the road splits, and that paved road cutting through the trees there. It breaks up the current that used to flow down from–”

“Thanks, Nico,” Lewis says sarcastically. “I’m sure that’ll be really helpful when I’m trying to navigate something I can’t see.”

“Just–” Nico closes his eyes briefly. His voice softens. “Just stay on my wing,” he says quietly. “I’ll guide you down.”

Lewis looks at the cliff edge. He swallows.

Nico’s eyes are a clear, intense blue. “I won’t leave you,” he says. “I promise.”

Like that fucking meant anything the last time you said it, Lewis thinks. Some of his thoughts must show on his face, because Nico’s eyes shutter.

Lewis grits his teeth. He feels like an arse.

He feels the wind run through his still-aching wings. “What if I fall?”

Nico’s face hardens. He looks for a moment like he did when he met Lewis’s eyes across the garage as they got into their cars in Abu Dhabi 2016. It is a look that says try me, and I will prove you wrong.

“Then I’ll fucking catch you,” he spits.

The promise settles in Lewis’s bones.

Nico’s anger and determination is something Lewis knows too well. This, he can trust.

Nico’s straightens. The sun suffuses his hair, outlines his wings with gold. He holds out a hand to Lewis.

“Come on,” he says. “We’ve got this. Clear air all the way down.”

Lewis looks at Nico’s hand before him – the familiar grooves of his palm, the finger-webs turned pink in the sun. The hand that Lewis had once thought nothing of holding in his own.

He reaches up, and takes it.

======

Director's Cut:

I had this scene planned very early; I held on to it for a solid four months before the plot progressed to the point that this happened. The thing I most wanted to get across in this scene, the first proper scene where Lewis and Nico are properly speaking face-to-face instead of just pining, is just how much they both care about each other even if it all comes out toxic.

The way I planned this conversation is that every single thing that comes out of Nico and Lewis's mouths is misinterpreted as hostile. Even body language is misinterpreted.

A few examples:

1. When Nico says, “I come here often. I fly up here every morning," he means I often return here, to this place of good memories with you, because I miss you.

Lewis takes this to mean that Nico thinks that Lewis is in his space, and that Lewis doesn't have a right to this shared space they used to have as teenagers.

2. Nico ventures closer. His eyes are on Lewis’s wings. “You really did it,” he says oddly. “You grew out your wings.”

Lewis sets his jaw, raises his chin. “Yeah,” he says challengingly. “What about it?”

Nico flinches and looks away. His chest rises and falls faster than usual.

It would seem that even after all this time, Lewis still knows how to get a rise out of Nico. Lewis should feel vindicated, but he doesn’t. Something about the way Nico is holding his wings makes Lewis feel sick.

Nico's trying to find some common ground here. He never thought Lewis would give up speed to regrow his wings. Nico had been harbouring hope that maybe they'd be able to heal if both of them weren't dead-focused on racing anymore; but Lewis is so used to Nico using everything as an insult he takes it badly.

But he still cares about Nico enough that he can tell when he's gone too far. Nico at this point in the story has gone through a full wing crisis because of Lewis, and Lewis isn't aware of it.

3. But Nico just clasps his hands together in his lap, tight enough that the knuckles go pale. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Your wing plumes are longer than I remember,” he says hoarsely.

Oh. Lewis looks down at them, at his draped double-cloak of gold, white, and maroon.

“Yeah,” he says. A gust of wind blows dirt over the end of one of his plumes; he nudges it carelessly with the toe of his trainer, but only succeeds in matting the feather ends with even more dirt.

Nico makes an abortive motion towards Lewis.Lewis looks at him sharply, watches Nico fold his hands into fists on his knees. Nico’s face is pinched.

Lewis isn't used to having full-grown bird-of-paradise plumes. He nudges them with his foot because to him they're just his feathers; he'll go and clean them later. for Nico, he's positively screaming to preen Lewis's wings. He's sitting there going insane with yearning while Lewis mats his feathers in dirt.

4. Nico turns on him instantly. “The beach?” he exclaims. “Are you fucking – you can’t have unsheathed your feathers more than a few days ago!”

When Nico finds out Lewis has got flyer's cramp and that Lewis isn't sure if he can make it back home without falling, he defaults to anger. He's actually furious because he's terrified that Lewis could have fallen to his death, but Nico, like Lewis, defaults to anger to mask his fear. Lewis does the same.

5. Flight boots stomp against dirt and rock as Nico stalks over, grabs Lewis by the collar, and shakes him, hard.

Lewis’s hands come up automatically, but Nico has already let go. Lewis watches as Nico turns in a flare of sparrowhawk feathers to pace the dirt of the clifftop.

Nico snaps to a halt, glares down at Lewis. “I can’t fucking believe what I’m hearing,” he hisses. “You’re not some damsel in distress. You’re Lewis fucking Hamilton.”

Lewis stares up at Nico’s furious face. This isn’t what he expected at all.

“Lewis Hamilton doesn’t back down from a fight,” Nico snarls. “What the fuck happened to you? You always said you could do anything as long as you pushed hard enough. So get up. Push.”

This is something integral to Nico Rosberg: he has absolute faith that Lewis Hamilton will back down for nothing. That no matter what the world throws at him, Lewis Hamilton will push. All Nico's anxiety about Lewis still hating him or overstepping and snapping this fragile connection that's forming evaporates because this is Lewis fucking Hamilton who Nico knows through and through and Nico will die before he lets Lewis be anyone other than himself.

6. He feels the wind run through his still-aching wings. “What if I fall?”

Nico’s face hardens. He looks for a moment like he did when he met Lewis’s eyes across the garage as they got into their cars in Abu Dhabi 2016. It is a look that says try me, and I will prove you wrong.

“Then I’ll fucking catch you,” he spits.

The promise settles in Lewis’s bones.

Nico’s anger and determination is something Lewis knows too well. This, he can trust.

This is Nico saying I'm with you until the end of the line. It's a declaration of if you fall I will fall with you. Lewis doesn't fully get the emotion behind it yet - there's still too much ingrained hurt there - but he can see Nico's anger and determination. The same anger and determination that allowed Nico to beat him in 2016. This, he can trust.

7. Nico straightens. The sun suffuses his hair, outlines his wings with gold. He holds out a hand to Lewis.

“Come on,” he says. “We’ve got this. Clear air all the way down.”

Lewis looks at Nico’s hand before him – the familiar grooves of his palm, the finger-webs turned pink in the sun. The hand that Lewis had once thought nothing of holding in his own.

He reaches up, and takes it.

I swear I had this section planned out almost word-for-word for four months. The image of Nico with his blond hair and sparrowhawk wings offering a hand to Lewis, offering to parlay, offering to help. It's the first time neither of them have been fully alone. It's the first moment that shows there might be a possibility of healing.

Clear air. Flying in formation, like they used to drive in formation on victory laps. Nico is Lewis's guide back to flight and freedom. They'll push each other higher, like they did when they raced each other.

Lewis lets go of his hurt and bitterness for the first time this whole conversation. He lets himself trust again. He reaches up and takes Nico's hand.

I wanted above all to show how toxic and hurt their dynamic was, but how enmeshed it was - how if both of them decided to take a little step forwards, healing was possible.

It's just the first little step towards the healing we've been seeing in the rest of the fic.

You can read more Icarus here.

Send me an ask with a scene or set of lines from any of my fics and I'll give you a director's commentary! Or, send in a ⭐star⭐ to have me select a section I've been dying to talk about!

[musings-of-a-rose]

Falling Slowly - Chapter 10

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I'm sorry this took so long to post! Originally this was supposed to be it, but this chapter took a lot more to write than I anticipated, so you'll have one more chapter after this one!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Divider made by @benkeibear 

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

Tommy was right about Joel. Not only did he refuse to come, he got into an argument with Tommy, calling him all sorts of names before storming out. Rose and Sarah both think he's just scared of losing Tommy, and they're probably right. My pants would be engulfed in flames if I said I wasn't scared shitless.

But the alternative is staying here and, as much as I love this cabin and our family, we can't stay here with this raider situation. I cannot lose my husband.

Tommy ends up having to do one more raider mission, but he knows that I'm packing up our things, quietly. Jax is mostly upset about leaving Sarah, but he understands why we have to leave. He may only be 13, but he's fairly observant. He's seen the weight on his father's shoulders and knows that it can't stay that way.

I get everything gathered up, provisions, any personal items that we'd need, like our packs. I fill up canteens and water canisters they had lifted from an old Walmart a couple years back. When Tommy and Joel return, Tommy actually has a little pep in his step. He pulls me in for a hug, whispering in my ear.

"I have a Firefly meetup location."

That had been the reason Tommy had gone out once more, to scout more information about the Fireflies. I don't know how he did it, but he did, the scowl on Joel's face all the confirmation I need to know it's legit.

We all take full showers, not knowing when we'll have this luxury again, Tommy and I lingering a little longer than was necessary in ours. After a full night's rest, or as much rest as we can get, when the sun has barely risen, we're putting the last of our things in the back of the SUV. Rose and Sarah had come down and made breakfast while we finished packing and loading. Joel had come down but said nothing, eating silently as we all joked and ate, trying to push away the real idea that we may never see each other again.

Rose and Sarah walk Jax and I to the SUV out front, idle chatter trying to cover up how scared we were. Tommy and Joel are still inside and we figured we would give them their space.

"If he changes his mind, just find the Fireflies. They'll know where we are," I reassure Rose as she leans over to hug me. "Even if we end up leaving them, we'll leave word with where we go."

Rose nods against me. "Did you get the extra med kit I stashed in your bag?"

I chuckle. "Yeah. Thanks, mom."

She pulls back and cups my face. "Please be careful."

"You too."

She hugs me briefly again before stepping back. "Who knows, maybe Joel will change his mind."

Sarah blows a raspberry with her tongue. "Yeah, that'll happen."

I pull Sarah to me, still in shock that she's somehow 24 and not 12. A whole entire ass adult. She hugs me tight, like if she squeezes just a bit harder that I won't go.

"You watch out for your dad, Sarah. Don't let him get in his head. You know how he is."

She nods and pulls back, wiping tears from her face. "Pulling his head out of his ass should be fun."

Fuck I'm gonna miss this kid.

The front door opens and Tommy and Joel walk out, Tommy chatting away to a stoic faced Joel.

"...can change your mind, you know. We can pack everything up and be gone in a couple hours?" Tommy ends with a hopeful note, but his face quickly falls as Joel shakes his head.

"I already think you're fucking stupid for leaving this place."

"Fair enough. Well, you know how to find us." Tommy tosses his pack in the backseat and turns to give Joel a hug, their embrace lasting a little longer than it normally would have. Tommy moves on to Rose and Sarah, Joel stepping back to give them their space.

I walk up to him and squeeze his hand, his brown eyes, so like his brothers but so very different, finding mine. "Please think about it, Joel. Even without the Raiders, you know it's only a matter of time before the kids would want to leave and make their own lives."

He nods. "I can't promise we'll leave, but I promise to think on it."

"I'll take it."

Joel pulls me in for a hug, which always still surprises me a little, as I'd thought for the longest time that he hated me, only to find out he was pissed at Tommy for not asking me out for forever.

"Uncle Joel?" Jax cuts into our embrace and Joel whispers something in his ear, which must have been some joke between them because Jax starts laughing and Joel even cracked a small smile.

"We gotta get going, Daisy." Tommy touches my arm and I look at him, nodding before looking back at everyone, exchanging our last goodbyes and I love you's.

Driving away from our little corner of this new world into an uncertain one was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

"Welcome to the Fireflies," A woman named Marlene, who appears to be the big leader, welcomes us into their makeshift camp.

"Thanks for having us," Tommy shakes her hand and she nods.

"Anyone willing and able to join the fight. And from what I hear, you're an excellent shot. Military background?"

"Desert Storm."

Marlene nods. "We could definitely use that. Everyone pulls their weight around here. What can you two offer?" Marlene looks pointedly at me and Jax and it's then I realize that she wouldn't give two flying fucks about us if it it were between the mission and us. Something to keep an eye on.

"I'm really skilled with gardening."

"I swear this woman could grow an apple tree from a broken stick," Tommy chuckles.

"That's great but we don't really have much need for a gardener."

"Oh. Well I'm pretty good with medicine. My...sister in law was a doctor. I helped her a lot."

"Medicine? That we can definitely use. What about you?" She turns to Jax, who's eyes widen at being addressed directly, which make sense since he's only talked to us since he was 3.

"I uh, I'm good with ani-"

"He was learning medicine. Alongside me. He makes a good assistant."

Marlene looks between me and Jax for a moment before nodding. "Alright. Both of you report to the med room in the morning. You all have the rest of the night to settle in. Your room is at the end of the hall, the door with the Barbie sticker on it. I'll see you in the morning, Tommy." Marlene walks off, another Firefly immediately approaching her and speaking in a low voice.

"Well. Let's go see where our for now home is."

Tommy picks up his pack and a bag, all of us copying his movements, and heads down the dingy hallway. I'm sure this building was gorgeous, back in it's day. But the years since the outbreak haven't been kind, water had leaked through the roof, the wallpaper peeling back in places, piles of rubbish strewn about or pushed aside to make a path. We reach the door with the Barbie sticker and Tommy pushes inside, the room not much cleaner than the hallway. There were two beds in this once hotel room, but I'm not certain I want to sleep on them.

"I miss home," Jax says under his breath.

"Yeah, bud. Me too. But this is an adventure! And temporary. We can deal with this."

I appreciate his optimism, but I am also doubtful about the conditions of our living situation changing while with the roaming Firelfies.

Life with the Fireflies was constantly busy. It seemed like they were trying to fight multiple battles, people often going on missions away for weeks at a time, our camp always on the move and not just in one area but across the country. Tommy was often away, either helping Marlene strategize or actually putting his own boots on the ground. I hated when he had to do that. He'd get this look in his eyes, much like when he has PTSD dreams about his time in the Army.

After a time, Jax asked me why I had lied to Marlene about him helping with medical things as opposed to his gift with animals. I told him I wanted him close, which was the truth. It wasn't that I thought he wasn't capable, but I wanted him near me in case something happened. I didn't trust them. Not entirely.

About 2 years in, we were stationed outside of the Denver QZ, which was still controlled by FEDRA. It took them a few months of scouting and gathering intel before Marlene finally approached Tommy and another member, Eugene, about infiltrating the QZ, attacking them from the inside.

"I'm sorry, she wants you to be, what, a terrorist cell or something?" I couldn't believe what Tommy was telling me. I knew he had to be doing some things he didn't like, his PTSD was really bad these days, but this?

He nods. "Yeah, something like that. Except we aren't terrorists, Daisy."

I count on my fingers. "Infiltrating a city, gathering more intel, setting off bombs or some shit, and probably fucking.. I don't know, torturing people or whatever terrorists do? That's not terrorism?"

He shakes his head. "It's not like that, Daisy. FEDRA is a military dictatorship. Those civilians in there are struggling and dying under their bullshit terms."

I scoff. "So you're going to free them from their oppressors by bombing them?"

He pauses. "I don't make the call."

"No. You just follow orders." The anger and hurt in Tommy's eyes cut into me and I sigh. "I'm sorry, Tommy. I am. I'm just...I'm scared."

The anger softens and he takes my hand. "I know. I am too. But those people need our help."

6 months. Tommy had been gone in his "not terrorist cell" for 6 months. Marlene just avoided me now, not even bothering to see me when I demanded an update. She kept telling me she'd tell me when she knew something, but how do I trust her? She sends her people in like pawns, their deaths for the cause are justified in her eyes.

I remember the day he left. A soft kiss to my lips in my early morning daze, the press of his hips against mine, my moans catching in my throat as we have to be nearly silent.

I adjust his jacket by the front door, smoothing it down before running my fingers over his hair, which he'd let get a little longer these days, the curls sometimes tumbling over his forehead.

"I promise I'll come back, sweetheart."

"You better. Or I'm coming in the afterlife and dragging your ass back out."

He laughs, a sound I had become unfamiliar with, and it brings tears to my eyes. He cups my cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears. "I don't doubt that for a second."

"Please be safe. And don't be stupid."

He pulls me to him, my face nuzzling into his chest as I inhale his scent, trying desperately to etch it into my memory.

"I love you, Daisy. Keep Jax close."

"I will. I love you."

One last kiss, a swipe of his tongue in my mouth and he's gone, a small smile and freckles the last image of him before the door closed. He'd told me a few weeks, maybe a month tops. Or 2.

But it had been 6. Half a year.

Jax turned 16 shortly after Tommy had left and I could hear them trying to recruit him to be boots on the ground. Not that age really matters to them. I've seen them parade kids through here, no more than 11, putting a weapon in their hands and telling them they have a chance to fight for freedom. But Jax will have none of it. He took my warning when we first joined and poured himself into his role as a medical assistant, helping the other healers but always staying near me. I knew his heart wasn't in it, not like it was with animals. But that calming nature the animals loved allowed him to calm anyone who came in, whether they were dying or not.

It was late. I sent Jax to our room, letting him crash a bit earlier than normal because he just looked so weary. I start to tidy things up a bit, never really having the time to during the day. When I put the last tray up, I hear shuffling and mumbled voices in the hall. I listen, not to eavesdrop but to hear if they were coming my way. They were, and in a bit of a hurry. The door is kicked open and 2 men enter, carrying a 3rd man in between them.

Tommy.

Relief and terror washed over me as I take him in, the 2 men laying him on the makeshift examination table. I swallow down everything to focus on the healing part. There would be time for more later.

"Daisy, can you handle this?" Marlene asks from somewhere in the dingy room.

I nod, a tray already in my hand. I bark orders at one of the men and he scurries about, trying to gather up the things I need. Tommy lays on the table, nearly unconscious, the other man, Eugene, has his hand pressed tight against Tommy's side.

"What h-happened?" I manage to choke out.

Eugene looks at Marlene for permission and I see red.

"If my husband dies on this table because it's some classified-"

"Shrapnel. We didn't see the grenade. Tommy saw it last minute and pushed me out of the way. He cleared the blast but it sent shit flying."

Fuck. Fuck fuck FUCK. Not the time to panic.

"Marlene, go wake Tenari. I'll need another pair of hands."

"What about Jax?"

"He doesn't need to see this."

She nods and heads out the door, setting a brisk pace.

I pour some alcohol over my hands and wipe them together, disinfecting them as best as I can. "Ok, Eugene. I need you to move your hands so I can see."

"Yes ma'am. I just didn't want it to jiggle."

I swallow hard and can't help the gasp that leaves my lips when Eugene's hands are clear of Tommy's body. A sharp piece of metal sticks out from the side of his abdomen at a strange angle, his shirt ripped and soaked in blood. The other man comes back with the supplies just as Tenari comes in. She glances at Tommy and immediately moves to our makeshift medicine cabinet.

Fuck. I wish Rose was here. This is very out of my league. But she did tell me a bit about foreign objects in the body. It's not just the shrapnel I'm worried about. It's how dirty the metal was.

"His blood is red so it missed his liver," I note as Tenari sets down some herbs and medicines next to the bandages and rags that the other man had brought.

"That's something at least. You want me to stitch? You know I have a steady hand."

I nod. "Yeah. That might be best. I'll get by his head."

Eugene stands next to me, grabbing Tommy's arm. The other man moves by his feet. Marlene comes back in with someone else, each of them taking another leg and arm. I lean over his face, his eyes still closed, placing my hands on his cheeks.

"He's going to wake up when I pour this on him and take it out. You gotta hold him still. Everyone ready?" A quick glance and everyone nods.

Tenari wastes no time. In one quick move, she picks up the alcohol bottle and dumps it on the wound. Tommy immediately wakes, shrieking and yelling, his body pushing against everyone holding him down as the alcohol burns him.

"Hey baby. Ssshhh it's me. It's Daisy."

His eyes flash up to mine, tears leaking from them. "Make it stop, Daisy," His voice is small and raspy, choking back pain.

"I know, baby. I know. But the alcohol is doing its job. But, hey look at me," Tommy's eyes had started to wander, noticing Tenari grabbing something from the little side table.

"Tell me."

"You took shrapnel. It doesn't appear to have hit your liver, which is good. But we have to take it out and stitch you up. You gotta stay still, which we will help you with."

"This is gonna fuckin' suck, isn't it?"

I smile a little down at him, brushing some curls from his forehead. "Yeah, baby. It's going to really suck. But I'll be right here, ok? Feel my hands on you? I'm right here."

He's scared, but he'd never admit it. A moment's pause before he nods. "Just do it."

Tenari looks around at us and we nod, everyone bracing. My eyes don't leave his, not when she pulls out the shrapnel, not when the scream erupts from my husband's throat, not when he involuntarily pushes against everyone, his body trying to escape the pain. I call his name and he looks at me, pain in his eyes and I smile gently at him. I start to sing, one of his favorites and he focuses his attention on me, grunting out when Tenari starts to sew his skin back together. By the time she's done, he's stopped fighting it, his eyes solely fixed on me. Tenari places a hand on my arm, letting me know she's finished. Everyone lets him go and I end the song, Tommy still looking at me, a faraway look on his face as his eyes start to close from the stress of it all.

"You got it from here?" Tenari asks.

I nod. "I got it. Thank you."

She squeezes my arm before gathering up all the things that need to be washed, Eugene and the other man helping her. As they leave, I hear Marlene tell Eugene he needs to find his wife. Something about her not being happy.

I sit on the stool next to Tommy's makeshift bed, a clean rag and a bowl with soapy water in my hand. I start to clean him, making sure all of the blood is wiped away so we can keep a good eye on his stitches. I make a poultice from our medical stash, placing it over his stitches so it can hopefully keep away any infection. We managed to get some antibiotics in him, but who knows if those still work after all this time?

When I'm all cleaned up, I sit back down in the chair next to his bed, taking his hand in mine. I lace my fingers with his, using my other hand to push his hand back from his face.

And then I lose it.

Tears pour from my eyes like I've never cried before. My body shakes, my stomach in knots. My heart feels simultaneously like it's being ripped from my chest but also relieved that he's finally back with us. I calm down enough to kiss his cheek, speaking directly into his ear.

"You are not allowed to die on me, Tommy Miller.....please don't die on me."

Tommy sleeps for nearly 3 days straight, only waking once to take a sip of water before slipping back into sleep. Tenari says that's a good thing, that his body is trying to heal.

He was a little warm that first day, but by the second he was cooling down. By the end of the third day, any trace of a fever was gone. The strong smelling poultice was doing its work.

"Daisy?"

He croaks out my name and my head snaps up from where I had been dosing off next to him.

"Tommy! Hey baby, how do you feel?" I feel him squeeze my hand. Even though it's weaker than normal, I still think that's a good sign.

"Like I had a piece of metal ripped from my stomach."

I chuckle, unable to stop the tears that started flowing the second I heard his voice. He reaches up and wipes away a tear from my cheek.

"Hey none of that. You really think a dinky piece of metal is gonna take me away from my family?"

I sob, nodding. "Either that or infection."

"Come here."

He pulls me to him as best he can, holding me while I sob into his chest, speaking gentle phrases into my ear to calm me.

"I'm not going anywhere, Daisy. Well, I'm not dying anyway."

I sit upright, looking him straight in the eyes. "Don't tell me you're going on another mission?"

He shakes his head. "No, baby. I think...I think we need to leave."

Relief surges through me. "Are you serious?"

He nods. "When I was in the QZ, I managed to get a job working the radio. Lied. Told them I'd had experience. Anyway, I was listening in one night and I heard some people, not in the QZ, talking about some settlement up north. Somewhere in Wyoming."

"Wyoming is fairly large, Tommy."

"Yeah, I know. Supposedly it's somewhere in Teton County."

"Another QZ?"

"No, nothing like that." He grunts, but declines my offer of more pain meds. "It's like a proper settlement or somethin'. They didn't hear much after a few radio sessions, but they did say they were working on the radio."

"So it could be overrun? Or non existent?"

Tommy shrugs. "I think it's worth a shot."

"And...and what if it's not real? Or overrun?"

He takes a deep breath and winces. "Then we find some remote cabin up there and figure it out."

Being with the Fireflies isn't really safe. We've had more close encounters with clickers being with the Fireflies than we ever have. The QZ's didn't look like great places to live either. I guess we have as decent a chance as any trying to find this place. We still have our truck so at least it won't be entirely on foot.

"Get Jax. We should ask him," Tommy gestures towards the door to the stairs that leads to our little room.

"He's only 17."

"Yeah. A man."

"17, Tommy."

"This world is different. He's smart. Just...let's hear his opinion."

Jax immediately agrees to leave, tired of this hectic life, tired of the Fireflies trying to take the medicine from his hands and replace it with a weapon.

And so, a month or so later at the start of fall, once Tommy has mostly healed, we pack up and leave the Fireflies, telling Marlene where we were heading just in case Joel or Rose or Sarah reach out. I can tell Marlene isn't happy about Tommy leaving, but she did say we were always free to go.

This time, I don't look back.

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[pixeltale]

Pixeltale Origins Cover

You feel like someone is watching you...

[countcvnt]

Experiment

Chapter One: Scrambled

[Poly!TF141/Fem!Reader]

Summary: Your memory is hazy, almost nonexistent, after being plucked out of a safe house and experimented on for months. When you're finally rescued you don't remember the people closest to you. Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (not much else this chapter), me using an english to scottish translator, not beta read Word Count: 3.3k A/N: Had this silly idea and turned it into a serious/angsty fic. I hope you all will like it as much as I do! Also, Reader has a call sign! It's Ace. If you prefer, you can read it here on AO3

Your eyes are heavy, your body burns, and you can't stop shaking. You aren't even sure of where you are. Your eyes are trained ahead of you, looking at what you assume is a two way mirror. A scientist is standing to the side of you messing with some needles and medicines. Your half lidded eyes cut towards him and you see a thick blue substance in a syringe.

“What's that?” You croak, voice hoarse.

“Hm?” The scientist doesn't even look at you, “curious now, are we?” He asks, pulling the syringe up and turning to you. He doesn't answer your question though, not in a way you would like. “We are about to figure out what this is.”

‘We’. Your stomach flips. He didn't even seem to know what it was. You accept your fate. You have from the very beginning. You don't know how long you've been part of this ‘program’, and to you, it didn't matter anymore. The only thing that matters is trying to get out alive. No one seemed to be coming for you. No one has in all of the days you've been hidden away. You didn't expect anyone to save you now. So, you had decided to save yourself. Figuring out how to do that was becoming difficult though.

You know that behind that two way mirror are a bunch of guards. You know they're heavily armed. You know, no matter what they have juiced you up with, you aren't beating a bunch of armed men. So, you sit idly. Letting them poke and prod and decide you are going to wait until the perfect opportunity shows itself. You just have to hold on until it does.

A loud alarm suddenly rings throughout the building and you cover your ears, flinching. The scientist seems more agitated than anything. He doesn't seem as bothered as you are, by any means.

“Guards!” He calls out, looking towards the large mirror. “Guards?” He questions.

He puts a finger up at you, asking for you to wait a minute. As if you have any other choice. A loud bang comes from outside the room and chills run up your spine. The guard walks towards the door and he peeks out. He quickly shuts and locks the door before returning back to you. He scurries over towards the metal stand beside your seat. He grabs the syringe and picks it up.

Something clicks in you. The alarms are still blaring and the guards seem to be gone to check it out. You watch as the syringe comes towards you, headed right for your neck. You move faster than you're used to, and grab the man’s hand and push him back. A lot harder than you had meant to. He slides back and hits the wall. The syringe does not leave his hand.

You rush towards the door. You wiggle the door knob and try to rip the door open. It doesn't budge. You turn your head back and see the scientist steadying himself. Fear kicks in.

“Help!” You scream, slamming your fists into the door. “Please, help me!”

“That was really stupid,” the man behind you says. “No one can hear you, no one is coming to save you. They haven't yet, have they?”

Tears prick your eyes. You turn back around and your back hits the door.

“Y'know, I'm going to be honest.” He stalks towards you. “I know they picked you because you're so… compliant. But really? I think that big guy with the mask would have been a better choice.”

That stings. “Who?”

“Which one?”

“Both.”

“You know I can't give out classified information. But if this works, I promise, you'll know everything. As for the other guy? I'm surprised you don't know who I'm talking about. But honestly, after all the brain scrambling you've had done to you, I understand how you don't remember him…”

You lose it. Something in you snaps. You lunge forward and grab the man. The both of you tussle briefly. Until you get him pinned. Your body slams into his and you hold him down. You raise your fist and bring it down, slamming it into his jaw. Screams, pleas fall from his lips. He's begging for you to quit. But you don't. You, at that moment, decide you are going to do that to every single person who has harmed you, who caused this.

The door behind you blows open, but you don't falter. Your fists continue to slam into the scientist’s face. Until you hear someone with a Scottish accent say your name. You freeze. You turn to find a man in the doorway, his eyes wide. You furrow your brows when he whispers your name again. You move to get up, without thinking about the man below you. You don't realize he's moving. His hand comes up and the needle is pressed into your neck. Whatever the liquid was is quickly administered into your bloodstream.

You hear your name again, louder this time, but you fall to the side, eyes too heavy to hold open. Your head slams into the now bloodied white tile and you're out.

So much for escaping. _____________________________________ You wake up to beeping. A sound you had grown accustomed to recently. You feel monitors hooked up to you, and an IV in your arm. You twitch ever so slightly, every muscle in your body contracting. And then it hits.

Anger.

Your eyes snap open. Your legs swing over the side of the bed. You rip every single monitor off of you, the IV flying across the room. The monitor begins to beep loudly and as you rush towards the door, exiting the isolated room, an alarm blares. You flinch momentarily, but do not let the sound stop you. You are looking for someone, anyone to give you a hint of what's going on. Nothing around you looks familiar. But from all the ‘brain scrambling’, that's normal. You're used to not knowing as much as you figure you used to.

A man in a bucket hat turns the corner, rushing towards what can only assume is you. You let out a low growl and begin to sprint. Your body slams into his and the both of you are sent sliding across the floor. You grab his vest and lower yourself to him, all of your weight holding him down. “Where the fuck am I?”

He's looking at you with confused eyes. He doesn't make any sudden movements. He immediately presents himself as a friend, not a threat. You squint and then see someone else coming around the corner.

“Price! Oh my-” the young man freezes. He says your name and your world is instantly rocked.

You haven't heard your name in god knows how long. The Scottish man had called out for you earlier, but before that? You really can't think of a time when someone had called you something other than some experiment number. “Who are you?” You hiss.

You feel the man under you tense up. He swallows hard and he says your name this time, slow and soft. He isn't showing any signs of wanting to throw you across the room or knock the shit out of you. You take it he isn't a threat and shift.

“You don't remember me?” The man in the ball cap asks, brows furrowed. “You don't remember us?”

Your heart jumps into your throat. You push yourself off of the man below you and you stand up. You brush yourself off and watch as he stands up. He radios someone to cut off the alarm and it's promptly stopped. You are thankful for that. You stand in the hall awkwardly and watch him and the other, younger man talk to each other with facial expressions.

“You're probably hungry,” the man in the bucket hat turns towards you, “how about we go get you some food?”

You aren't stupid, you know that also entails speaking with them about everything you just went through. Despite not wanting to talk, you nod. You are hungry and haven't had an actual meal in possibly months. The man reaches out to touch your lower back, to lead you to wherever he wants to go. You flinch away from him, everything in you tensing. You can tell it's a reflex. A habit. He's used to doing that. Your eyes scan him and you're searching your brain for everything, anything about him. But there's nothing.

“Sorry.” Is all he says. He leaves it at that. “Gaz,” he looks away from you and towards the other man. “Please go grab some food and meet us back at room 2B.”

“Yes, sir.”

The tension is palpable. You want to run. Fast. You can. You know you can. But something is keeping you tethered there. You follow a couple feet behind the man who had yet to introduce himself and keep thinking about ‘Gaz’. Your mind is reeling. You keep thinking about his name, his face, everything. You close your eyes tight and inhale sharply.

“Kyle.” It's all you say. It stops you dead in your tracks. Your eyes open and your breathing is heavy. “His name is Kyle.” Your breathing is suddenly ragged. You can't catch your breath and feel like everything is crumbling in on you. You fall to your knees and try to keep yourself from wailing. “I don't even know your name!” You whisper to keep yourself from sobbing. Your voice cracks.

“Price. John Price.” He drops in front of you. He reaches for your bicep. You don't flinch away this time. “Hey,” his voice is low, “look at me.” Your eyes cut up to him. “We're gonna help you through this. I promise.” You nod. You want to trust him. You need to. You feel like you can. You inhale slowly and Price helps you up. “We're going to go to room 2B, you're going to eat some breakfast, and we're going to ask you some questions.”

You nod and start following Price again. You make it to the room in silence and Price opens the door for you. You walk in and find four beige walls, a table, and four chairs. Nothing else. Until you look in the corner of the room and find a little camera. You lock onto it and squint.

“Why?” You point at it.

“Oh,” Price walks in and closes the door behind him, “it’s protocol. Security and all.”

“Fair enough.” You sit down at the table and look at the Price. “You gonna sit?”

Price holds onto his vest and leans against the table. “Not yet.”

You shrug. “Suit yourself.” Your stomach growls. You touch it through the thin white shirt you're wearing. “You think Gaz will be here soon?”

With that, a knock comes from the other side of the door. Two knocks, a pause, and another knock. Price opens the door and Gaz walks in. He has a tray filled with food and you are growing antsy. He sits across from you and slides the tray towards you. You try to not immediately dig in, but you can't help it. You grab a glazed donut first and begin to devour it.

“Oh,” you pause your munching, “thank you, Kyle.”

Gaz freezes. His eyes widen and he turns towards Price. It's your turn to freeze. You look up at him mid bite and blink. Gaz motions towards you and asks, “Did you tell her my name.”

“No.” Price shakes his head.

“You remembered?” Gaz seems ecstatic. “What else do you-”

“Nothing.” You snap. “I don't remember a damn thing.” You huff as you move onto the muffin on the tray. You unwrap it and begin to devour the sweet. “All I know,” You speak through bites, “is that I was locked up for God knows how long and they were experimenting on me-”

“Four months.” Gaz speaks quietly.

“Huh?” You question him. “How do you know?”

“We looked for you when you disappeared. It was four months ago when they got you. You really don’t remember anything?”

“Like I said,” You huff, “I just know they were juicing me up.” Before they can question you further, a light bulb goes off in your head. “Wait.” You squint at them, “The Scottish one. Where is he?”

They tense up. Gaz talks first, “You remember Soap?”

“Huh?” You cock your head. “Is that his name? He’s the one that found me. I assume he’s here. Or did he not…” You trail off.

“No, he’s here…” Price begins, “…We don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Oh.” You shrug. “I guess that makes sense. How am I supposed to, uh, assimilate without being overwhelmed. I mean, why don’t we just rip that band aid off?”

“Trust me,” Price locks eyes with you, “we do not need to rip that band aid off right now.”

“Okay, okay,” You put your hands up. “Do you wanna ask your questions now?” _____________________________________ “This cannae be healthy,” Soap looks at Simon.

Simon shrugs, “Don’t care.” He’s watching the cameras closely.

“Thay aren't even in th' room yit! Ye'r peepin' an empty room!” Soap’s eyes move from the screen and back to Simon.

Simon’s eyes cut from the screen and to Soap, “Shut it. Price wants us to stay away from her for now. He didn’t say we couldn’t do this.”

As he says that, the door of the room opens. Price is visible first. And then, another figure walks in. You. Simon and Soap both tense. You look directly at the camera and point, asking why it’s there. You’re so clear. Soap’s heart jumps. Simon shifts.

“She remembers Gaz’s name.” Simon speaks through gritted teeth.

“A'm sure that's a targeted attack against ye, Ghost.” Soap is trying to find humor in this situation. He’s grasping for straws.

Simon is not enjoying it. “Shut the fuck up, Johnny.” Simon growls.

Soap focuses back on the screen and notices you aren’t even sure how long you’ve been gone. As Gaz gently tells you four months, Simon grumbles the amount of time at the same time.

“If Price doesn’t wanna overwhelm her, why the fuck is Gaz in there.” Simon is seething. “Why can’t we all be in there.”

Simon shuts his mouth as you say they had been juicing you up. He tenses. Soap does the same. They both need to know what it means. Simon feels like he’s going to combust. His eyes narrow once you mention Soap. Soap looks like he’s about to jump with joy, until he realizes you don’t actually remember him. Not past him saving you.

“Fuck this,” Simon pushes past Soap. “I'm going in there.”

“Hey! Price said-” Soap starts. He doesn't finish. “Fine-” he rushes out behind Simon. He guesses they're just going to bust into the room and Simon is going to make you remember. He isn't quite sure what Simon has planned really. But he decides he can't sit in the security room and just watch. He needs to see you.

So does Simon. _____________________________________ You reach for a fork for your eggs and lean back in your seat, plate in hand. You relax (as much as possible) and you look at Gaz and Price. You are studying them. Really digging into their features. You want to remember so badly. You have no reason to trust that they used to know you, a part of you is ready to attack in case they are lying. But most of you trusts them. How else would you remember Kyle’s name?

“Listen,” Price inhales sharply, “we want to help you, without overwhelming you. We need to know what you know.”

“Listen,” You mimic his tone, “I don’t know what you aren’t getting. I remember nothing, nada, zilch.”

“Okay,” Gaz interjects, “What’s your last memory?”

You're sent into deep thought. You place your hand on your chin and look off. “Well-” You begin, “I remember-”

The door of the room busts open. You tense, ready to pounce. Your palms hit the table and you stand up straight. The fork clangs against the ground. Two men walk into the room. The one who saved you and-

Words play in your head over and over again. ‘I think the big guy with the mask would have been a better choice.’ For a moment, your world is completely rocked. ‘I’m surprised you don’t know who I'm talking about.’ Your eyes lock with the large beast of a man. His eyes soften. Briefly. You swallow hard.

The entire room is silent. Until you open your mouth. “He wanted you…”

“What?” Soap is the first to question you.

“The scientist, the one doing the experiments on me-” You are tense again “-he didn’t want me.” Your head hurts. You place your hand on your forehead and groan. You are thinking too hard. Remembering too much.

“Hey,” Price motions for you to sit down, “it’s alright.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Ghost,” Price looks over his shoulder, “not right now.”

Ghost stiffens. He doesn’t say anything else. You sit down and inhale slowly. Your eyes move from the floor, past Price, and they hit Ghost. You feel something stir inside you. Like your emotions know more than your brain does. You want to scream. Every single man in that room seems to think so highly of you, and you don’t even remember them.

“I think I need to sleep.” Your voice is a whisper.

You don’t know the last time you got a good rest. You figure sleeping will help you. Price begins to grab for you, before freezing. You lean into him, letting him help you up. Price moves past the men and you tag along beside him.

“I’m going to show you where your room is. If you need anything, please let one of us know. But for now, we’ll leave you alone.” You are led down the hall and towards the barracks. It’s silent between the two of you, until you reach your room. “You have this room to yourself. I had some things rearranged, if it needs to be changed, and you aren’t comfortable alone, let me know.”

You nod at him. “Thank you. For everything. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“0600 sharp.” Price begins to leave.

“Wait,” You stop him. “You don’t happen to have my phone, do you?”

Price turns back to you. “No, that was not recovered. But, we can get you a new one. I’ll work on that while you rest.”

You nod. You head into your room and close the door behind you. You look around. There are two beds. You groan at the fact you can’t remember who used to be your bunk mate. You’re scraping through your brain, really searching for just an inkling of a memory. But… Nothing. Nothing at all comes to your mind.

Nothing about the four men convinced that you know them, anyway.

You lay down in bed and cover up. It’s not the most comfortable bed you’ve ever been in, but it is the most comfortable bed you’ve laid on in the last four months. Your head hits the pillows and you close your eyes. It takes longer than you’d like to go to sleep, but not as long as you expect it to take. You only hope you don’t dream of anything at all. You can’t be that lucky. _________________________________ “Price!” Simon shouts at the captain. His face contorted with anger and pain, and he is more glad than ever that they can’t see him through his balaclava. “What the fuck was that? We need to know-”

“No,” Price stops him immediately. “We do not need to stress her out further. We will figure this out eventually, on her time.” Price reassures his team. “You did not see the look in her eyes, the way she tackled me to the floor-”

“She what…?” Soap tenses.

Simon bristles instantly. He’s seething again. “What do you mean?”

“Ghost,” Gaz starts, “I know you want to know what happened. We all do.” He’s trying to get through to him. “But something is not right. The way she easily took Captain Price down- That wasn’t the Ace we know.”

“Of course!” Simon growls, “She was gone for four months, being poked and prodded-”

“Ghost,” Price interrupts, inhaling sharply, “she pinned me down and I could not get up. They did more than poke and prod at her. They-”

It clicks. “They were making soldiers… Enhanced soldiers.” Simon whispers. His face contorts again, this time with confusion, “Why did they pick her?” He remembers what you said. ‘He wanted you.’ Simon momentarily feels a pit in his stomach. “Ace couldn’t have been the only one… There’s no way they did this experiment on one person.”

“She was the only one at the underground compound.” Soap shifts. “Maybe she was the only success?”

Simon is stuck on why they picked you. It’s not like you weren’t capable. But you were never on the field fighting for your life. You were always on the sidelines, helping them get into the places, helping them get information. How had they spotted you and decided you were the best candidate? He knows that question is going to keep him up at night.

“Come on,” Price brings Simon back to reality. “We got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

[janaispunk]

come morning light

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: An injured Joel and Ellie stumble into your home in the middle of the night. Against your better judgement, you decide to help them.

word count: ~2.5k

tags/warnings: post outbreak, slow burn, found family, age gap (sorry not sorry), able-bodied reader, angst, reader has a sad sad backstory and ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual smut, vague description of an injury

a/n: i'm finally finished with chapter 2, and once again nervous af about it haha. there's not terribly much happening in this one, but i promise we'll get there, it just needs the buildup :)

thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading <3

follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates and find my full masterlist here :)

dividers as always by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but after hours of tossing and turning in the darkness of your bedroom, you think it’s probably time to get up. 

You’re halfway convinced that last night’s events were a product of your imagination, that your mind has felt so lonely that it conjured up the whole scenario. But when you step out of your bedroom and find the door of your parents’ bedroom only halfway closed, the way you have never left it before saying good night to Ellie earlier, you have to come to terms with the fact that this might actually be your reality. 

Ellie seems to be sound asleep, a lump under the covers, softly breathing, but when you head to the living area and switch on one of the smaller lamps, you’re met with the piercing glare of Joel. He’s still lying on the couch, much like you left him, still pale, still dark shadows under his eyes, but he’s much more awake now, his gaze following your every move. 

“Hey,” you say softly, sinking down on the same armchair that you sat in when you watched him last night while Ellie took a shower. You suppress a shudder at the way he regards you, his eyes flicking up and down your body, taking in your size, you presume, searching for weapons. Your gun is tucked into the waistband at the back of your pants, which you’re sure he’s already aware of. You don’t like the way he makes you feel, like somehow you’re intruding on him. You should have the upper hand, this is your home and he’s injured, you helped him for crying out loud, and here you are, nervously watching his every move. You did the right thing. It’s gonna be fine. 

“Where’s Ellie?” he asks, ignoring your greeting, his voice gruff. 

“Sleeping,” you reply, nodding your head to the bedroom door. “She’s okay, I promise.” 

Some of the tension seems to release from his body and he slumps back down a little, but the distrust in his expression when he looks at you doesn’t waver. Then again, you’re probably not much different. 

“Look,” you sigh, “I’m not playing some kind of game here. You came into my house, I saw that you needed help, so I helped.” You try to infuse your voice with as much confidence as you can. “Don’t make me regret that, okay?” 

He shrugs, a noncommittal grunt the only verbal answer. It could potentially be interpreted as a thanks, you guess. In a less tense situation, you’d probably grow annoyed by now. Shrugging yourself, you get to your feet and head to the kitchen. Anything to escape the way he’s watching your every movement.

“Hey, do you want coffee?” You don’t really want to offer him any, but you’d feel weird drinking it yourself without asking. 

He pipes up at the question, head turning in your direction, his face the most open that you’ve seen it yet. “You have coffee?” 

“Yeah.” That’s why I’m fucking asking. 

“I– yes.” A breath, a second of him not meeting your eyes. “Thanks.” 

You smile, small, fleetingly, busying yourself with the ground beans and the boiling water, reveling in the smell that slowly spreads throughout the room. It reminds you of happier times, when the world was still normal. 

He has pushed himself into a sitting position, breathing heavily, when you walk over to hand him the steaming cup, still careful to keep your distance. 

After you sit back down, the both of you stay silent for a few minutes. You enjoy the bitter taste on your tongue, the way you slowly feel your energy rising. 

“Does it hurt much?” you ask eventually, gesturing towards his stomach. 

Another grunt, the hint of a head shake. 

“So it does.” He opens his mouth, the protest most likely already on his tongue, and you raise an eyebrow. “I have painkillers, are you sure that you–”

“No.” It comes fast, his voice raised, no room for arguments.

You instinctively flinch back at the unexpected louder sound, the cup shaking in your grip. You set it down on the table in front of you. Have your hands free, just in case.

There’s a hint of regret in his eyes, his free hand slightly raised, palm open. He’s trying to calm you down, you realize. 

“Okay,” you breathe, working hard to keep your voice steady, “no painkillers, got it.” 

“Sorry,” he mutters, his face half hidden, words almost lost behind the cup. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“It’s alright,” you tell him as much as yourself. 

You’ve gotten jumpy, not used to loud sounds anymore, raised voices, not used to humans in general, you suppose. You hadn’t fully realized it until now, until there’s other humans around you again.

“Thank you,” he continues unexpectedly, “not just for the coffee, but– you know.” He’s struggling, the words not coming easily, but you think that he’s being earnest. “Patching me up.”

“Of course.” You nod hastily, your heart still beating a little too fast. 

Another moment passes in silence, both of you slowly sipping the coffee. He’s looking around, taking in his surroundings, eyes lingering on the closed wooden doors and the stairs leading up. You try not to get nervous about it. It’s normal that he would want to know more about where he is, after all. 

“This is the basement, right? Is it safe?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “No way to get in from outside.” As long as you stay inside, you’re safe.

He hums, appreciatively, you think.

“How long have you been living here?” 

“Always. It’s my parents’ house. I mean–” you laugh, but it comes out hollow, “we lived upstairs, obviously. But my dad was… kinda crazy. Or– not that crazy, I guess, all things considered.” Your lips curl into a wry smile. 

Your mind flashes back to long lectures about survival techniques, learning how to shoot, your father going on and on about first aid, hunting, all the things that you couldn’t have cared less about as a teenage girl, but were ingrained in your brain nonetheless. You’re grateful, now, but it’s laced with guilt about how often you snapped at your father, how often you told him he was paranoid, seeing dangers that weren’t there, that he was wasting your time. You couldn’t have known, the rational part of you argues. But you can never take it back now, the guilt whispers. 

When you look up, Joel’s eyes are on you, eyebrows raised in question. You shake your head, trying to clear it. Stay in the present.

“Sorry, what did you–?” 

Worry is painting his expression. “Are you okay?” 

Don’t show weakness. “Yeah, of course. Just spaced out for a second.” 

You force a smile onto your face and stand up rather abruptly, gathering both cups and putting them into the sink. Joel hasn’t moved, but you feel his eyes on you as you move. 

“Do you, um, do you want to shower, maybe? Or just wash up, I don’t know, how–” You gesture towards the dried bloodstain on his flannel, forcefully keeping your tone light. “I have clean clothes, too, if you want.” 

A shiver runs through you at the thought of going through your dad’s things, of someone else wearing them. He doesn’t need them anymore. He’s not coming back. 

You know that you’ve gone silent for too long again even before you see Joel’s expression. He doesn’t ask this time, but there’s something in his eyes that you can’t place, something that almost looks like understanding. 

“Yeah, I guess cleaning up a bit would be nice. I– thank you. Again” 

His voice is gruff and he avoids your eyes. You think that he doesn’t like it, having to thank you. Owing you. 

Giving him a nod, you head to the bedroom, hoping not to disturb Ellie, but she’s awake already, her eyes glinting in the light that’s falling into the dark room from the living area. You clench your jaw, heading for one of the drawers, trying hard not to think about what you’re doing. It’s not like he ever wore this stuff, it was just sitting down here. It’s fine, you’re fine. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not about you,” Ellie says quietly from beside you, breaking through your racing thoughts. 

You turn towards her, confusion on your face. “What is?”

“Joel,” she shrugs, still keeping her voice low. “He’s like that with everyone. He’s a bit of an asshole, really.” She sounds fond, saying it, like it’s an endearing character trait. 

A surprised laugh escapes you. “I– okay, thanks, I guess.” 

She waves it away, swinging her feet out of the bed. “No, thank you for not murdering me in my sleep.” 

“Yeah, likewise.” You shake your head, still laughing to yourself. It’s so easy to like the girl, to feel like you already know her. 

You hand Joel a pile of clothes, purposefully avoiding to look at them too closely, explain where the towels are and he grumbles his approval before the bathroom door closes behind him. 

You release a breath and close your eyes for a second. You are undeniably warming up to Ellie, finding it almost impossible not to, but her companion is a different story. 

“Hey, do you drink coffee?” you ask in the direction of the bedroom. 

“Ew, no!” comes her reply as she steps out of the door, collecting the wild mess of hair on the top of her head and securing it in a ponytail.

Her offense at the mere suggestion makes you chuckle under your breath as you busy yourself with preparing breakfast in the form of porridge instead. She’s leaning against the doorframe, watching you, her eyes wide as she takes in the cupboards full of supplies. 

You’re glad that you don’t need anything from the storeroom, keeping that door in the corner firmly closed. You want to trust her, want to trust them, but a feeling of unease still lingers at the thought of letting them know just how much you have.

Instead, you voice another question, a thought that fills you with unease as well. 

“Hey,” you begin, keeping your eyes trained on the stove, “I’m sorry, but you and Joel, there– there isn’t anything weird going on, is there?” 

“Like what?” She sounds slightly defensive, but when you steal a glance at her, she’s eyeing you with curiosity. 

“I don’t know, like…” You shrug, stirring the mixture of water and oats, “you want to be here, he’s not forcing you to come with him or anything, right?” 

“No, don’t worry about that,” comes her reply, almost amused. It was a bit of a stupid question, when you think about it, considering how worried she was about him last night, how protective. 

“Okay,” you smile at her. You’re curious nonetheless, how they ended up together and where they’re headed, but it’s probably not really your place to ask. 

You divide the porridge into three bowls and hand her one, while you carry yours and one for Joel back to the living area and set them down on the wooden table. 

Ellie starts shoveling the food down immediately and you’re left wondering once more what happened to them and when they last ate something. 

“So…” Ellie begins, her mouth still half full, “you’re just down here with all this food? Because your dad stored it here, before… things went to shit?” 

You can’t blame her for her curiosity, you’re aware that you’ve probably found yourself in a better living situation than most people. Your thoughts go to the storeroom again, basically stuffed with enough supplies to last you multiple lifetimes, especially now that it’s just… No.

You hum in affirmation, not trusting your voice and you’re thankful that she’s too distracted by her breakfast to notice anything weird about your reaction. 

“So you don’t go out hunting or anything?” comes her next question. You freeze. 

You did go hunting, back when you cared about variance in the meals you prepared, about using fresh ingredients when you could. Until there was no need for that any more. 

You realize that Ellie is saying your name, not for the first time, judging from the look on her face. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, your hands tightening around the bowl. “No, I- I don’t go hunting.”

If she finds the situation weird, she shrugs it off impressively fast. 

She nods to herself, eating quietly for a minute, before she speaks up again. “So what do you… do? Down here all day?” 

“Uh…” What is it that you do all day? Time has been blurring together, days without anything happening repeating on a constant loop. You realize that you don’t remember, can’t talk of any activities that are part of your day. How long has it been like this?

You’re relieved from having to answer by Joel emerging from the bathroom, his face pale and his breaths going heavy. He has put on the sweatpants you gave him, but his torso is bare, the skin around the injury still an angry red. 

He sinks back down into the cushions with a heavy sigh and you quickly get to work, cleaning the wound once more and giving him more antibiotics before you redo the bandages and hope for the best. Your hands don’t shake as badly as they did last night. 

Ellie gets him some water and pushes his bowl of porridge into his hands, urging him to eat, before she turns to you. She’s trying to be strong, to hide her worry, but the pleading look in her eyes when she asks you if he’s gonna be okay tells a different story. 

“Of course,” you say, giving her what you hope to be a reassuring smile. 

Joel does look better after he’s eaten something, but his eyelids are drooping and after a few more minutes, his eyes close and his breath evens out. You do the dishes and check the cameras, calming down a bit more when you’re sure that everything seems to be quiet upstairs. 

When you return to the living area, Ellie is rummaging through her pack, muttering to herself, until she pulls a book out of, proudly turning the cover for you to read it. No pun intended - Volume Too.

She starts reading them to you while you settle back down with a second cup of coffee and you share her laughs, enjoying the way it makes her look lighter, allows her to be a kid who can laugh at stupid jokes. You ignore the sting it causes in your chest because you once knew someone who would have loved this book just as much as Ellie does.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

[thisismeracing]

The one | CS55

― Pairing: Carlos Sainz x fem!reader (she/her) ― Warnings: mentions of break up and food; typos. ― Summary: Yn is doing well a few months after her break up with Carlos, and so is he. Everyone thinks that this paragraph of their lives is over, but as it happens they may be a chapter to each other, and Yn makes sure everyone knows he was her great love, the one - through her new song. ― A/n: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

February, 2023

February, 2024

realyn

liked by charles_leclerc, sza, and others

realyn "The One" has just come out on all streaming platforms. I hope this piece of my heart reaches yours. Tune in and dive into the feels 💐🤍

view all comments

saintsainz "for old time's sake" HELLO?????

ynsummer omg another bop!!! I wish I could write songs when I'm sad, the few breakups I had I could only cry and try not to choke on my own phlegm

⤷ fan2000 ewwww LOL

hammert1m3 charles on the likes 👀

leclowns1655 in my head they're not over yet

⤷ mercmickey you need therapy, bestie

lewishamilton great music as usual 💜

francisca.cgomes 😍😍

szadirection I love how the grid's still here supporting here even a year after she and carlos broke up 🥺

popyn WE WERE SOMETHING DON'T YOU THINK SOOO ROSÉ FLOWING WITH YOUR CHOSEN FAMILY 🎤🎤🎤🎤

ferraristrangers I have so many theories for the lyrics and the cover and kksjksdj aaaaaaaa

Old posts

March, 2018

realyn

liked by lewishamilton, ynfan, and others

realyn eat pasta, run fasta, they said 😋😂

view all comments

bieberf1 they my new fav couple now 💋

raintyresainz thank you for feeding us that last carlos pic

hurricaneyn welp now I wanna eat pasta but its like the middle of the night

⤷ alonsochamp eat pasta, sleep fasta 😙😂

carlossainz55 ❤️❤️

amarelorenault her glasses are so cool!!!!! her style is always on point

carlossainz55

liked by yourfriend, fernandoalo_oficial, and others

carlossainz55 we tried homemade, it worked 😋

view all comments

realyn we didn't run fasta this time though :(

⤷ carlossainz55 there wasn't any race this Sunday, cariño

⤷ realyn shhhh, let me be funny

harrystylistee I want what they have!

April, 2018

realyn

liked by hulkhulkenberg, renaultf1team, and others

realyn enjoyed April with my fav spaniard, wrote a few songs for you guys - new album dropping soon!!!!! 🥳

view all comments

aussiegrid howd you like Australia, Yn?

⤷ realyn I loved it, def gonna come back soon 🥰

ynfan 💙💙💙💙💙💙

carlosfullname1 where’s your jacket from?

⤷ realyn website.com 😘

fab2000 can’t wait for the new song and espec the new album!!!!!

July, 2018

carlossainz55

liked by pierregasly, realyn, and others

carlossainz55 Yn's new album "I used to know her" is out now and you guys should run to listen to it 💙💙 she did an amazing job as usual. I'm very proud of you, cariño @ realyn

view all comments

lewishamilton congrats, Yn!

hulkhulkenberg everyone here loved the new album, well done, Yn!

renaultf1team its our garage soundtrack 😎💛

March, 2019

realyn

liked by landonorris, mclaren, and others

realyn the past few months wearing papaya have been amazing! 🧡 and yes, last concert clothes were orange bc of the team

view all comments

landonorris looks like the concert clothes gave us some luck, make sure to wear orange again next time!

⤷ realyn I love you guys but I can't be wearing orange all the time

⤷ yourmanager yes, you can

⤷ realyn shut up, I'm gonna fire your ass

⤷ yourmanager no, you won't

⤷ carlossainz55 jajajaja

tifosinha I love how lando looks like their kid 😂

spaincarlos_ not yn and carlos adopting lando lol

ynfan4 her music taste is *chef kiss* 🤌🏾

ynandsainz yn, your album still on repeat on my apple music!

mclaren 🧡🧡

December, 2019

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, hulkhulkenberg, and others

carlossainz55 ¡Feliz Navidad! 🎄❤️

view all comments

saturnracer FELIZ NAVIDAD TAN TAN TAN PROSPERO AÑO Y FELICIDAD 🎤

szalover 😭😍 its the way she loves pasta

⤷ cowboyvettel @ realyn pasta or carlos? choose one

⤷ realyn carlos cooking pasta 😙😋😜

July, 2020

realyn

liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial, and others

realyn compilation of some of the flowers Carlos gave me and pics he took 💖 Te amo, cariño 💐🌷🌹🌸🌺🌼🌻

view all comments

fonedirection God I see what youve done for others

carlossainz55 you’re my favorite flower, love 🌸💖

⤷ fernandoalo_official you guys know how to be sicklengly cute huh 🙄

piastripastry see? carlos gets flowers regularly to yn and yall out there crying over an ugly ass man who gives you the bare minimum 🫵

March, 2021

realyn

liked by carlossainz, scuderiaferrari, and others

realyn new character unlocked hehe ❤️💛🏎️

view all comments

ynfrance We want a new album, queen!!! save us!

swiftverstappen the way they went through everything togerher 🤧

⤷ russellsainz I want what they have

monegasque16 another day another yn post to make me cry in single and alone

carlossainz55 thank you for the endless support, cariño 💛 you’re my everything

tifosisunshine you’re 😭 my 😭 everything 😭

August, 2022

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, pierregasly, and others

carlossainz55 my kind of free-weekends 🩵

view all comments

sunnyyn yn looks so good 😍😍

yourbestie ❤️ aweee

realyn te amo! 😘

January, 2023

realyn

liked by lewishamilton, francisca.cgomes, and others

realyn happy new year 🙃

view all comments

charlsmonaco where's carlos? 😟

mylightyn I don't like this vibe…

ynwardrobe what is she reading?

lewishamilton 💙

⤷ mclatinha lew do you happen to know something we don’t?

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, fernandoalo_oficial, and others

carlossainz55 ¡Feliz Año Nuevo! 🎉

view all comments

brocedes2010 where's Yn??????

schumini_ at least they seem to be on the same place 🙏🏾🙏🏾

redsainz he looks so good it hurts

back to 2024 💬📩

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! I'm set on publishing my drafts but I need time to work on them, this one was saved for a while now, and it's finally here heheh let me know your thoughts!

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘

▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @leclercsluv @bbreezybitch @graciewrote @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch @barcelonaloverf1life @noncannonships @fanboyluvr @is-just-a @love4lando @woozarts @namgification @formulaal @v1naco @skepvids

©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

[oval3000]

Chapter 4

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap. Assault.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

-------------------------------------------------------

"I don't like this," Jacob rubbed his for head, giving a few scratches. His hand on his hip with a slump posture. His eyes were giving out with annoyance and tiredness, not from the labor work, but from the system.

The fellow nurse could give an eye roll after seeing what was happening. "Anything to save some money, right?"

Mr. Miller ordered that half of the guards on the fifth floor would go to other floors to cover other shifts of guards that quit and who were..laid off. Those 20,000 thousand dollars couldn't come out from thin air as to what Mr. Miller thought it would, so it was the only option, to send some guards home.

Meaning that other guards from other floors had to move around and, unfortunately, your floor was affected by this.

The two guards that were on König, left as well as four others.

Things have now changed, your safety may now be a risk. But to to be quite honest with you, your safety is nothing to be worried about.

You did your morning rounds, assisted where there is needed. During their lunch, you heard the main phone ring from the floor. Jacob picked it up, "this is Jacob. Yes, sir. Okay...yeah...no problem." He hung up the phone taking a deep breath. He walked behind you and tapped on your shoulder. You turned your head away from the computer, "Mr. Miller wants to see you in his office."

You felt a big tull on your stomach. You were nervous. He never called you in his office before and with everything that is going on, you could only imagine worse.

Is he going to fire you?

You can't loose this job, the pay is good. You can't pack and move again to find something better.

You headed down to his office in a bit of a hurry, you didn't want to miss their lunch round check ups. You knocked on the brown wooden door with his name ingraved on a gold platter.

"Come in." You entered into his office and saw him sitting as his usual chair, writing whatever he is writing on a piece of paper. He stood up, fixing his suit. Mr. Miller, about the age of 50. Still has a grown set of hair only it's shown to have some grey strand hairs peaking through. 6 feet 3 inches maybe. Looks a bit fit, lackes muscles though. His light beard with a few grey strands of hair that follows the shape of his long jawline.

You saw photos that are in his office. Paintings of mountains and oceans. You saw his degree in psychology and business on a sharp, dark, brown, frame hanged up on the cream wall.

"Is there something wrong, sir?" You questioned standing behind the two chairs aligned perfectly in front of his desk. You hoped that he doesn't fire you. You can't hit rock bottom. Not now after everything.

"No, I just wanted to check up on you. I also wanted to apologize for the way I reacted towards you during the Gabriel incident. It was really unprofessional of me to do so. You were just doing your job, I'm sorry." He creeped in closer to you. You felt uncomfortable, a bad vibe coming off from him. He placed his hand on your shoulder, gripping it lightly. "If you need anything, my office is always open for you."

You swallowed the little bit of saliva, taking a step away from him, but it only brought him closer to you.

You panicked. You looked around to see if anyone, anyone at all can see, but nothing. The door is shut, the window blinds are closed. "It's okay sir, I should get going."

You turned around to walk away, but you felt his hands on your arm, pulling away in. "You look adorable playing hard to get"

Your eyes widen. You felt absolute frozen. "Sir. Let go of me!" He dragged you in front of his desk. The movement was so sudden, you couldn't say anything. "Please sir."

He gripped your shoulders tight that you couldn't move. You felt his body pressed against you. You felt his hips pushing in deeper. You couldn't help, but to let tears fall from your eyes. You felt so frozen that you hated yourself. This couldn't be happening to you.

You honestly wished he called you in to fire you. His body completely compressed to yours making you bend over on his desk. His hands roamed your body. His cold hands went inside your scrub shirt. You shook at his touch with fear. "No!Please! Stop!"

"You feel so good " he cupped your breast, pulling under your bra to get a better touch. Eventually his one hand left one of your breast and it landed on your ass. You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling and his zipper being pulled down. He gripped onto your scrub pants and pulled them down, including your underwear, showing your naked vagina. "Fuck. I should've fucked you along time ago."

"Please! Please! Stop! Let go of me!" You cried out, feeling his finger pressed on your area.

A beeping sound came from his phone, "Sir, you have a call coming in. It's from the CEO."

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." He finally let go. He yanked your body closer to him. He cupped your face with his hand. You felt his disgusting breath near your mouth. "If you tell anyone about this. I'll ruin your fucking life. You got that."

You nodded as he aggressively let go, making you fall a bit on his desk. You felt so humiliated while pulling up your scrub pants and fixing your bra. You were about to walk out when he said, "Oh and make sure no one sees you like that. Get yourself fixed."

You didn't bother turning to him. You walked about quickly and ignoring the staff by not making eye contact. You pressed the button for the elevator, which felt like an eternity to arrive. Never felt like hours waiting for the elevator. Thankfully, no one was there, it was just you. You pressed on the fifth floor button.

You wanted to vomit. You scrunched your face as the tears fell down your cheeks. You covered your mouth trying hard to cover your sobs. Even though you are alone in the elevator, you felt embarrassed. You took deep breaths as it was reaching near the floor. You wiped away as much tears as you can. Even so you know your eyes and nose are red and puffy.

You avoided eye contact with everyone. You prayed that no one will come up to you ask why Mr. Miller called you down to his office. You grabbed the medical cart with the things you need and quickly went to each patients room, the last one being Königs.

You jiggle the kids, the guards left for you, to open his door. You swang the door a bit open and back inside his room. You grabbed the tray with his medication and placed it down on top of the cart. König watched you. He knew something was wrong.

You raised your head up, feeling the tears forming again. You hated yourself for not stopping the tears from coming out. Not now. Not when you are doing your job.

But you couldn't help it. You covered your face as tears were running down your face. You didn't want to cry in front of a patient, nevertheless, König.

He quickly got up and took your arm to pull you closer to him. He sat back down on his bed with his legs spread a bit to let you in closer to him. He couldn't see your face, which was still buried in your hands. If you could see his eyes, the look he's giving you. The same look he gave to the people he wanted to kill, to his enemies in the battle field. "What happened, schatz?" his thick accent was hard and impactful. You uncovered your face to see him, for him to see you. He saw the tears, the redness in your eyes.

The sympathetic look he gave you made those tears flowing again. Being comfort is not something you're use to. Your always dealing with everything by yourself.

He palmed your cheek, wiping your tears away. You shook your head lightly. You can't tell him. He's your patient. You can't tell your patient is a psychiatric hospital that you were almost raped by your boss. "Bitte tell me."

"H-he....touched me." You stared away, but his other palm touched your cheek, making you to look at him.

You saw the stare he gave you. Filled with sympathy and anger. "He. Touched. You."

You nodded. "He trapped me in his office. He was going to rape me. If he didn't get that phone call, he would've-." Your words turned into sobs.

He got up and pulled you into a tight hug. Your head was buried into his chest, letting out your quiet sobs.

He held you tight and close. His hand rubbing your back while the other was petting your head. "Shhh..it's okay, schatz. It's okay."

He turned his head towards the slight, opened, door. His way to freedom. Your freedom.

Away from this. From every assholes that's here. Away from everyone else.

"Mein liebling. Mach dir keine Sorgen. Ich werde ihn töten. Ich werde jeden töten, der dir wehtut. (My darling. don't worry. ill kill him. I'll kill anyone that hurts you.) " he gripped you tight. He doesn't want to let you go. He wants you to be attached to him. For you to share everything of his. "Mine," he whispered. "All mine."

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (4)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Parts: one, two, three, five

Word Count: 4,2K, i should ask for forgiveness

Warnings: flirting, pinning, (FUCKING) FINALLY, unprotected sex, buggy detaching parts of his body during sex like the freak he is

A/N: i've been building this moment so long that i was, once more, inspired by god to make this chapter the longest ever, i hope you all enjoy and that the awaited smut doesn't disappoint and delivers (let me know, anxiety is killing me, love u all, see you in chapter 5, the final (until season 2) of this series) (again i'm really really sorry for any grammatical mistake!)

Day 5 after what happened during the Arlong Park fight, or what is the same for her = 5 AAP, (Y/N) is sure about three things:

1. With the choice of leaving her mercenary life behind, comes her new position as the ''strategist'' of the Straw Hat crew, a group of very unique people that after a couple of stops along the way, would arrive at the Grand Line.

2. Their next destination is Loguetown, which excited her; she loved the city, she never turned down an assignment that involved working there. They would arrive in a couple of days and stock up on everything they would need before beginning the greatest adventure of their lives.

3. Buggy's nose was real. Very real. And she missed him. Just a bit.

To be more precise, that bit of tension and constant sarcasm around her. She knew he was a pain in the ass, and that his staying on the ship wouldn't have lasted much more than an extra day and a half because one of her crewmates -Zoro- would have unceremoniously thrown him overboard anytime.

But it was really fun for her, so from time to time and in particular, when she passes by the helm, she finds herself remembering that annoying talking head and smiling a bit.

And so, after an entire week, they arrive at the famous Loguetown, the tomb of the most famous pirate of all time, a refuge for mercenaries, pirates and bounty hunters from all corners of the East Blue! No matter what, everything your heart could desire -except for the One Piece- you could find there. Jewelry, weapons, food, alcohol, a good bed to sleep and rest in, or other darker, macabre and adult types of entertainment.

Ah, what a city. Anyone could get lost among its endless alleys packed with people. That's why when the crew splits up, they do it in pairs, making sure that Zoro, who they had already discovered, lacked complete and utter sense of direction, wouldn't be left alone and lost among the city's infinite tide of pirates. (Y/N) is the one who goes with him, both heading to the largest armory in the city to replace his destroyed katanas while Sanji and Luffy take care of the food, and Usopp and Nami go around to do… she doesn’t really remember what. Trying clothes she believes.

She must say, however, that this swordsman is not exactly the most talkative person in the world even though their friendship has considerably grown and deepened during their little journey. Apart from sharing small notes about the city, how many people there are, or what they should do, they don't really talk that much; in her case, because she is absorbed in her surroundings, soaking in every possible detail. Him, silent because his reputation as a pirate hunter is famous around all the East Blue, and of course, in Loguetown there are only pirates. He prefers to stay alert to avoid future conflicts and have a peaceful morning. Not for him, but for his crew.

That's why when a gloved hand flies out of a dark alley, and violently covers the girl's mouth and nose, preventing her from screaming, while another grabs her by the waistband of her pants and yanks her back, forcing her to get in said alley, Zoro doesn't even notice, he continues calmly walking, minding his own fucking business, heading to only God knows where.

Farewell, mosshead.

In a blink, (Y/N)'s back collides with a strong torso, and with her heart in her mouth and adrenaline running wild in her veins, she stretches her right hand to reach the knife she has in the holster on her right thigh to destroy the asshole that dares to try to steal from her. Or murder her. Or that's her idea until she hears a familiar voice murmuring an “I got you” behind her, before turning her head and discovering the biggest, reckless buffoon she's ever met.

Buggy.

Eyes wide open, she screams against his palm, pissed off by the way he scared the shit outta her. Extremely angry, she yanks his hand away from her mouth, turns her entire body around and looks at him with what he would swear, is the most annoyed expression he ever saw in his entire life. Before the clown can excuse himself and his lack of manners, just as she begins to see that stupid smile appear on his stupid face, she slaps him so hard that for a second, he thinks his head will detach from the rest of his body.

Then, and pushed by an outburst of passion that comes out of she doesn’t even understand where, a mixture of adrenaline, surprise, her desire to kill him with her own hands and the -sexual- frustration with which he abandoned her the last time, she grabs his vest, pulls and kisses him. Again, all before Buggy can even react.

The kiss is brief. Really quick, but intense as hell, and she manages to leave him breathless. Yes, him. Only him. Because the moment they separate, when (Y/N) pushes him back, she spits out a heartfelt “You're an idiot!”

What a fucking rollercoaster. He doesn't even remember what he was about to say anymore to greet her. He's in fact, too stunned to speak. Did she slapped, kissed, and insulted him in less than a minute? Oh, she's a freak, just like him. The only difference between them is that she knows how to pretend the opposite. But she can't hide it from him. Not to the king of the freaks.

''I missed you too, baby'' he admits with an amused smile, moving his jaw a little from side to side, as well as his neck; that woman is stronger than he expected.

''Yeah? Because I really didn’t.’’ she spits once again, taking a deep breath. ''Liar'' he retorts, eyeing her up and down. ''Liir'' she instantly mocks, still recovering from the tsunami of emotions that just passed through her. ''What the fuck are you doing in Loguetown?''

''I came looking for my sorry excuses for a supporting cast,'' his crew. Were they still alive? Would have sworn Zoro destroyed all of them but who knew. ''and turns out I found the perfect, shiny, little new supporting star for my show'' he adds, as flirtatious as always around her, approaching (Y/N) again.

''Oh, I feel flattered but as I already told you, I don't like being in the spotlight. I relate way more to the shadow around it.”

He rolls his eyes but nods in understanding, reaching out to grab the girl's waist. ''Mhm. What about a private show, then? We have a play to finish, If my memory's not betraying me.'' He whispers honeyed, closing the distance between the two just a bit more. Cannot stop himself, neither he wants to. He knew as soon as he recognized her on the street, he would not let her go without putting order in their outstanding matters.

She’s about to add her usual sarcastic and smartass remark saying something among the lines of ‘without inviting me to dinner first?’ but she chooses not to. Just for once. ''I could agree to that.'' The girl admits, tilting a smile. ''Not here, tho.'' Pressing the clown's chest with her index finger, signaling for him to stay still, (Y/N) runs her tongue over her upper teeth, taking a couple of seconds to think.

In the end, she raises an eyebrow, and with an amused smile, she asks: “Do you trust me?”

''Not in a million years''

''I knew you would say that.'' She still takes one of his hands, that was still on her waist, and starts walking quite fast towards the other end of the alley, pulling him with her. He doesn’t object at all, despite not knowing where the hell is she taking him, and simply follows her lead, unconsciously squeezing her hand to not to lose her in the crowd.

Not many minutes later, after climbing some stairs and turning a few streets, there they are, in front of a beautiful tavern with windows decorated with ornate dark wooden planks, designing patterns of small squares, offering a beautiful view of its interior. The building was not one of the largest in the area, but it was not one of the smallest either. She knew from experience* that the floors above the tavern were rooms rented to the pickiest pirates. They had enough space to rest comfortably after a long voyage at sea, with a good bed and several locks on the doors and windows to prevent intrusions, attempts at robbery or murder, or a drunken idiot making a mistake and entering the wrong room.

*She knows this because a couple of years ago she needed to sneak in during the night to steal a jade seal from a famous pirate captain, who had previously stolen it from the temple it belonged to a few months before. Getting in wasn't easy at all.

Walking to the side of the building, where the windows of the rooms can be seen better, (Y/N) looks right, then left, making sure there’s no one nosing around.

‘’Here we are.’’ She announces, looking at him with a devilish smirk on her face. ''Now pay attention, here's my brilliant, unique and exceptional plan. It will absolutely blow your mind.’’ He cracks a genuine smile after hearing how she praised herself. She sounded almost like him. 

“First step: Throw your head up to that window over there,” she points said window with her index finger, two floors above their heads, “and tell me if there’s someone sleeping inside. Or if you see any sign someone rented the room.’’

Confusion is the feeling that crosses his beautiful face for a second, looking at her with a raised eyebrow and lips pressed into a small incredulous smile. She wants to sneak through the window without being seen and not pay a single berry? Exactly what a true pirate would do. He was starting to fall in love with her.

Without a second thought, his head separates from his body and floats to the open window, slightly sneaking in to check as she asked. And as fast as it goes up, it returns back down, just like a yo-yo. ''Clear'' He confirms, amused. 

''Perfect, second step: now throw your right hand, same window, and leave it there.'' And he does as she says, no questions asked, because he could not do otherwise. Because he wouldn't want to do otherwise. He was not made to follow orders and still, deep down, he knows he would follow hers. Or better said… he would follow her around. She was, maybe, not a theatre kid like him, but to his eyes, she shines brightly.

Not as much as him, tho.

Once Buggy's right hand waits patiently on the window frame, (Y/N) grabs the clown by the shoulders and strategically positions him under the window. Then she takes his left hand, bringing it forward. "Third step: with this hand you propel me into the air, with the other you grab me and you help me sneak in."

''And the final step?'' Getting very close to his face, the girl rubs her nose against his and whispers, voice low and lustful, ''You float to the window and meet me inside for that private show you mentioned before.'' He already knew the goal of that whole improvised plan, but he almost purrs when he hears her say it.

Then Buggy throws her upwards without prior notice, way stronger than she expected, and a sweet, genuine laugh escapes (Y/N)'s lips at the lack of gravity and that distinctive tickle in her stomach that rises to her throat. Not even when he uses that floating hand to catch her and guide her to the room, her feet on solid ground again, she’s able to stop laughing.

She expected this whole forbidden getaway to be entertaining, but not so, so fun. There was no point in denying the obvious: the complicity, the chemistry between them is criminal, asphyxiating, palpable, and so, so /real/. It's not only about physical attraction and sexual tension anymore, they were actually really compatible, which could only, and is already, making things one hundred times better.

As soon as she's inside, still giggling a bit, she's quick to reach the door and securely close it, fitting the bolt with a pair of lockpicks that she had on her. On the other hand, as soon as Buggy gets inside the room he chooses not to lose a single second, because every second he wastes is one less that he can enjoy that fantastic woman who is driving him crazy; before she can return to the center of the room, he has already recovered his right hand, thrown his hat to the floor along with his coat, and has rushed towards her, kissing her again, this time without a hurry, but voraciously, passionately, with the irresistible yearning he has been suffering for almost two weeks. He wants-- no, he needs to make her his. The desire making his blood boil. Her warmth, her smell, the taste of her lips-- even her laugh. It was too much. Too intoxicating.

(Y/N) welcomes him, sighing deeply against his lips, tilting her head a little, melting in the kiss, her hands flying to his hair to take out the bandana and pull at his blue locks, to which Buggy responds by grabbing her from the back of her thighs, lifting her up and carrying her to the bed, near the window. He lets some of his weight fall onto her, loosely holding himself on his knees on the mattress. She closes her legs around his waist, pressing him even a little closer against her body, excitement coursing through her veins like poison.

All that little game with the clown was just flirting, huh? Yeah, sure.

For a minute, everything is kisses, stealing each other's breaths, strong caresses on arms, legs, and back over clothes. There are bites at each other's lips, seemingly incapable of getting enough of the other, the attraction between them driving them both so absolutely insane than getting some distance to get naked seems impossible.

“Baby,” raspily, he press his crotch between her legs to let her feel his growing erection under his pants. ''I suggest you getting naked before I rip your clothes off by myself.''

She moans in response, wetter, more aroused by every second passing, unable to even think about playing hard to get this time. ''Aye aye captain'' she manages to whisper back mischievously, separating her hands from his body in order to pull her own shirt up and throw it somewhere in the room.

He grunts, but makes the titanic effort to separate himself from her, standing on his knees in front of her laying body, licking his lips, breathing heavily, eyes half-closed, already fucking her in his thoughts. Of course, seeing her undress for him is quite a show.

After her shirt comes the button and zipper of her pants. Although before getting rid of these, she pulls the scarf around the clown's neck, forcing him to lean over her again, and after it goes his vest. Given the girl's haste, he lets escape a hoarse laugh that reverberates inside his chest and decides to help her with whatever’s left between them; shoes, pants, gloves, and underwear.

''You're gorgeous'' he breathes, taking in her image in front of him. “You’re almost making me feel guilty for what I'm about to do.”

Before she could even ask, or threaten with a ‘don't you fucking dare’ or something among those lines, one of Buggy's hands flies to her own, and pins her wrists against the bed with such force, she hisses, heart in her throat, deafening her ears. She remembers herself, this was all too good to be true, and that damn clown promised to make her beg. He wasn't going to forgive her so easily, was he?

Her fault.

''Sweetheart, open your beautiful legs for me, will you?'' Returning to the bed, the clown settles between the girl's thighs, running -with the only hand still attached to his body-, one of her legs, from the knee to the hip bone in a slow and tortuous caress.

''Now, I'm pretty sure I warned you about what's about to happen last time you took advantage of my... uncomfortable, kinda-hostage situation on your stupid little boat. When you decided to push me to my limit.''

She is too aroused, too turned on to think clearly, her mind clouded by the same rush of hormones that’s making her incredibly wet. Having him now naked between her legs, threatening her in that low tone of voice, exposed helplessly in front of him, doesn't help at all; it is, as a matter of fact, making things way worse.

''You wanted me to beg, right?’’

''Exactly. It's that easy.'' After a couple of strokes, he grabs his erection and runs it slowly through her wet folds, both of them barely containing a moan in their throats at the sensation. He, perhaps, better than her, because (Y/N) involuntarily pushes her hips upwards, trying to get some more. ''Ah-ah. Want me to fuck you, sweetheart? Just beg for it. Beg for /me/.''

Being the proud woman she is, it's not exactly easy for her to seriously beg for something. Joking? Of course, any time, even sarcastically, but something is telling her, her sixth sense probably, he won't settle with a sarcastic remark and dove eyes.

Closing her eyes tightly, she lets herself be carried away by pure and absolute desperation every time he runs his erection through her, lubricating himself with her fluids. He is silent, already tasting the sweet victory he’ll feel when he manages to break her and make her beg. Although this doesn't happen as quickly as he would have preferred.

''(Y/N)'' He warns, and it's the first time he says her name out loud. The first time she hears him, with his raspy voice and his beautiful accent, pronouncing her real name instead of some compliment or silly nickname to call her.

Welcome, breaking point.

''Beg--'' 

''I need you,'' she interrupts him in a low whimper, lifting her hips. ''Bugs-- Buggy, I need you to fuck me. Now.”

Usually, it's moments like this particular one in which the clown enjoys recreating himself, making others beg a little more, -sex, mercy, forgiveness- doesn’t matter-, taking his good time listening to her moans and cries of desperation. But he can't help it, the second he hears the girl call him by his name, telling him how much she needs him, and that silly attempt of an order at the end, he knows it’s game over, and he decides to give her exactly what she wants, penetrating her suddenly the last time he runs slowly through her folds. A sweet moan of relief and pleasure escapes from (Y/N) chest along with a "Fuck, Buggy--". From him, a hoarse grunt. A shiver runs down their spines, and quickly, Buggy recovers his other hand, freeing her from his grip, to aggressively pull both of her thighs to bring her closer to him, and begins to thrust hard, all shreds of self-control escaping from his body lightspeed.

He pushes into her as deep as he can in no time, burying himself between her legs, face hidden in the crook of her neck, hands keeping her legs open, close to his hips.

She doesn't know what she likes more, the erratic sound of his breathing and panting in her ear, the desperation with which his whole body seems to search for hers or each penetration sending an ecstasy shock through her nerves, but she soon becomes a puddle of sweet moans, whimpers and breathing as heavy as his, one hand pulling hard at his blue hair, the other resting on his abdomen, nails digging slightly his skin with each thrust.

''Oh god, Bugs--’’

''Moan my name louder baby,'' he breathes before biting her shoulder, leaving the mark of his teeth imprinted on her skin. ''I want them to catch us. I want them hearing you scream my name.”

And she does. She moans his name again, just not as loud as he wants. Which means there is something, something he can do better. Something to push her to her limit, to make her a believer, and make her /his/.

Summoning all his willpower, and not before one last, violent thrust, the clown stops and suddenly pulls out of her. (Y/N) complains with a loud cry, opening her eyes to ask what the fuck is he actually doing, how dares he to stop. Thank God, she doesn't have time to threaten him before he speaks.

''On your knees.'' And of course she obliges, on all fours, the simple idea making her completely lose her mind. Only thing, Buggy doesn't intend to keep her like this for a long time; as soon as she exposes herself for him again, he buries himself once more inside her as deep as he can and starts thrusting again, slowly but strongly, ending each thrust with a loud slam. This time, both hands separate from his body, one reaching for her delicate neck, which he circles with his fingers and presses to lightly cut off her breathing. The other one flies to her mouth, pushing between her lips with two fingers that she soaks in her saliva.

(Y/N), unable to articulate a single complaint, sucks, bites and licks them, muffling against them every sound that escapes her throat.

A pleasure shock, like a lightning bolt, forces her to arch her back the moment that same hand flies to her clitoris and starts masturbating it, overstimulating her.

Buggy is really determined to make her his, to not let her forget about him, to become the legitimate protagonist of each of her erotic fantasies, so to finish driving her crazy, the hand he has around her neck lifts her up, pulling her until he forces her back against his torso in a beautiful reference to the day they met and the first time he felt that magnetic attraction inevitably pulling him towards her.

''So. Much. Better,” he manages to whisper between grunts and raspy moans, surrounding her abdomen with one of his arms to keep her in place, close to his chest, sacrificing penetrating her as deeply as he would like but without caring in the slightless because he knows, she is quickly reaching her orgasm. He can feel it in the way her walls contract around his cock, in the beating of her heart in her throat against his hand, and in how her hands reach for anything, trying to support herself; in this case, his arm around her, nails scratching his skin.

''C'mon baby, cum for me.'' He groans, refusing to fall headfirst to his own orgasm because he doesn't plan to finish before her. Under other circumstances he would have done it, he has never been the kind of generous lover who thinks of his partner's pleasure before his own. This woman is breaking some old habits and patterns just being the way she is. And he doesn't care at all.

A few more thrust, the lack of enough oxygen in her lungs and that wonderful pressure on her clitoris, and (Y/N) explodes in an orgasm so strong she begins to breathless moan Buggy’s name over and over again like a mantra, which obviously feeds his ego so, so much, it ends up sending him over the same edge, moaning her name under his breath, resting his forehead on her shoulder, hugging her body tightly as they ride their climax.

                                        …

''Told you I would make you beg'' he cracks a devilish smirk, wrapping his right arm around her shoulders when he finally lies on the mattress.

''Yeah'' she giggles, although sarcastically, recovering by the second, enough clarity to recompose her own ego. ''You also told me you would make me find the One Piece without going to the Grand Line and I cannot see it anywhere yet.''

What a subtle way of asking for a second round, he thinks to himself, clearly pleased -instead of offended- for the way his smile stretches even more, looking intently at her.

“You're right.” He would have liked to lie on the bed for a while, getting back some energy and attack again, but damn him if he ever dares to reject a provocation as bold as that one. He wouldn't forgive himself.

Getting out of bed almost as quickly as he lay down a few minutes ago, Buggy cracks his neck from side to side, and taking one of the chairs next to the table in the room, he turns it in the air, leaving it pointing towards the girl.

He then sits down, leaning on the backrest, relaxed, exhaling an erotic, slow sigh as he exaggeratedly separates his legs in a clear invitation for her to come closer and sit on them.

"What did you say the other day? About liking a man with his entire body, capable of fucking you in his lap and making you scream his name?"

[trina864]

Teases and Intercourse | J.JK

Summery: Jungkook and you makes a deal, that he gets to do whatever he wants, the next week. Monday he starts out slow. Paring: Jungkook x Brat!Reader Lyric: "Show you what devotion is..." Genre: Fanfiction, Romance | Smut, Fluff Word Count: 4.3K Chapter Guide: Monday Previous / Next Warnings: Female reader. Explicit words. Kissing. Making out. Shirtless Jungkook. Naked reader. f2l. Friends having oral sɛx. Fingering, f!receiving. Oral sɛx, f!receiving, m!receiving. 69. Face riding. Brat!Reader. Dirty talk. Deep throating. Jk kinda shoving readers head over his d!ck. Unprotected intercourse. Reader and Jungkook is not a couple. Taehyung is their friend. Parties at Tae's place. ‣ A/N: Frist one in the series. Seven is the best thing to ever happen, and I mean it. I love it so much, I got so inspired that I had to write. Let's see how this turned out, hope you like it!

Jungkook's and your relationship is hard to put words on. You are not a couple, not friends with benefits, you are simply just Jungkook and Y/N.

Your mutual friends have asked each one of you when it's time to put a title on you, but neither of you can give a pleasing answer.

But there's a good reason to it being like this. A reason which makes it impossible for you to commit to a serious relationship with him. The both of you are really bad at commitment.

Even if you wanted to be in a relationship with him, you fear that you can't stay with only him, and you aren’t one for an open relationship.

You have kissed before, at Taehyung's parties. You have made out in front of all your friends at an dare which Jimin had given you. You flirted wherever you went.

And yet it has never evolved to more than that, not when you both like to keep the cards open.

This is why it surprises you as much as it does when one Sunday morning Jungkook comes knocking at your door.

"Jungkook? What are you doing here?" You ask with a miserable tone. The hungover from last nights party is still evident.

Jungkook walks past you, inviting himself in, and plumps himself down on your baby green couch.

"Well I came to see you." He answer and smile. "How are you after last night?"

"Great." You say with sarcasm overflowing your voice. "No, I'm totally hungover. What about you? You seem fine."

"I am, I held again with the drinks, I know I can't handle them, unlike others." He looks at you with a sly look.

"Yea yea, I know, I can't handle all those drinks, but seriously a girl my age has to enjoy and live life." You defend, you don’t know why you have the need to explain yourself, maybe it's simply because it's Jungkook.

"I know" says Jungkook, "But there's another reason for why I held again yesterday."

"And why is that?" You ask and plump down on the couch in front of Jungkook.

Jungkook hesitates a bit, biting his lips as he usually does. Your eyes stay on his lips longer than you want them to.

"Jungkook, what is it?" You ask again.

"I want to have sex with you." The smirk that is covered on Jungkooks face lets you believe at first that it's a joke, and you reply with a hysterical laughter.

"Ahhh... You're so funny Jungkook." You say as you calm down, but as you look over at Jungkook and see the dead serious expression on his face you shrink in on yourself.

"Wait what, you're for real?" "Of course I'm for real." Jungkook replies looking rather offended. You don't know what to say, your friend, who has been that since your college times is standing in your home and revealing that he wants to have sex with you.

It's not like it's a big shocker for you, you've always known that Jungkook and you has a weird friendship on the edge of being more. And you will never forget how much this boy loves sex. You've never known anyone with as big a dirty mind as Jungkook. But even so it surprises you, where he found the courage to make a stunt like this with you.

Silence follows after, and your thoughts are running wild. Not only are you questioning why he all of a sudden does this, you're also considering his words and imagining if you two really did have sex.

Would it be as good as you've always expected? Or would it just be weird to have sex with a friend?

It's Jungkooks groan that breaks the silence as he throws himself back into the couch.

"Alright let me try again, because this is kinda awkward." He says all flustered and gets up from his seat only to walk over to you.

He towers over you. "I have a proposal for you, Y/N. We know we both want to have sex with each other" You’re about to interrupt him, but he shushes you. "Don't try to lie to me, you clearly don't remember, but you ranted to me yesterday about how good i looked, and that you wanted to have me in your bed, and-" "Okay I got it." You say as you finally understand why he is doing all of this now.

It's your own fault. Your memory opens up for one particular memory that happened last night.

Jungkook has always looked good in black, but his outfit tonight is something else. You walk up to him and he smiles as he sees you. "Y/N! Hey what's up?" Your eyes are focused on his lips and Jungkook notices this right before you get on your tippy toes and pulls him into a heated kiss. He doesn't resists, to be honest he had hoped something like this would happen when Taehyung asked him to come to the party. "Want you Jungkook." Your drunk self whispers in his ear. It makes him shiver and if you weren't this drunk he would've taken you right now.

"What's the proposal?" You sigh and rub over your face. The embarrassment you feel is not invisible to Jungkook and he smirks as he proceeds,

"This next week, I get to do with you whatever I want. You know my kinks and turn ons better than anyone, and I know yours, I wont do anything which I know is uncomfortable to you. After the week we go back to what we are now." He says it like it's so simple, like it makes perfect sense to do something like this.

"So what? You want me to be your play toy for a week?" Jungkook shrugs, "If that's what you want to call it, I would say lover, but hey! That's just the romantic part in me speaking."

There is a look in Jungkooks eyes filled with all the different ideas he has for the week, a dark sinister look.

Your own body starts heating up thinking of all the things Jungkook could do with you. He was right when he said no one knows your kinks better than him, how many times haven't you talked with Jungkook about kinks and turn-ons.

It’s a miracle that you haven’t had sex yet.

Even with your thoughts flying, considering if it would be weird after, or if it would change everything between you and Jungkook, you know there is no other answer than yes.

But you won't give in that easily, the brat in you can't allow that.

"I don't know Jungkook, I'm not sure you could satisfy me." Jungkook catches the sarcasm in your voice, and he feels relieved that you are slowly agreeing to his crazy idea. He wasn't sure you would say yes, and even if he hide it well, the nervousness would not leave his body before now.

His eyes darkens at your comment, they're hypnotic to you whenever they do that. "Oh you don't think so?" He asks walking closer to you and taking your chin in a strong hold.

"No I really don't." You say. "I'll have to show you then."

He squats down in front of you only to take your lips in a heated powerful kiss. You moan into the kiss as his hands explores your thighs and hips, lastly finding their spot on your waist.

Your own hands tangles in his hair, and pushes him forward into you.

As fast as it starts as quickly it ends and Jungkook pulls back.

"Ah ah," He say as if scolding a little baby "The deal starts tomorrow, not today, I asked for a week so that's what I'll get."

You whine, but get an idea.

"Why don't you just stay here then?" You ask and you lean back on the couch.

"Stay here? What?" Jungkook takes his place beside you and swings an arm around you.

"Yeah, the deal starts tomorrow, and tomorrow starts at midnight. You could stay for dinner and movies, and then when midnight hits, we could finally start our deal." You say and hug Jungkooks arm closer to you.

"I don't see any problem with that, I don't have work tomorrow anyways, but what about your work?" He ask. "I work from home tomorrow."

And like that the deal is settled. The whole day you walk with butterflies in your stomach thinking about the deal. You and Jungkook uses most of the day binging series you've already watched and making food.

Taehyung came over shortly to drop off a coat you had forgotten the day before. To say that he was surprised as he saw Jungkook there was an understatement, but he didn't question it knowing that your relationship is impossible to understand.

As dinner is over and everything cleaned you two walk back to your room, talking about all and nothing, about the party, about your common interests.

You’re in the middle of conversing about drawing and which pencils you like to use the most when your alarm goes off and the clock hits midnight.

"You sat an alarm?" Jungkook laughs as you hurry to turn it off.

"Don't tease me! I just wanted to be sure when it was midnight." You say, but still Jungkook jokes about it. "Oh yea, eager much?"

"I'm not eager! I just wanted to be sure." You say and finally turn the alarm off.

"Mhm, and I just wanted to sit and do nothing when I made you that offer." He jokes a smug look on his face as he moves himself closer to you.

The air around you suddenly changes, there is no more laughter or sarcasm, instead the room fills with sexual desire.

Jungkook now moves very close to you. His tatted hand comes up to get a strand of hair out of your face.

His hand rests where your neck and jaw meets, and you feel yourself slowly turn into a puddle at the anticipation. "You and I would be the perfect couple y'know?" He says. "How so?" You ask with a hitched breath.

Jungkook pushes you softly back into the bed and slowly crawls up over your body. There he stays as he starts explaining himself.

"We both have the same interests, and we're similar in the way we joke around, yet we're not too much alike to bore each other. And of course there's the sexual aspect of it all." He say, smirking as his eyes scans over your face.

Jungkook moves down to kiss you which you happily agrees to, the kiss is not heated in the same way it had been earlier the day, it’s softer, slower.

"We're also both not into commitment." You say between kisses, "It would never work."

Jungkook smiles into the kiss, "Let's see about that."

None of you say anything after that, nothing is left to say. All that is left is the pleasure, the kisses, Jungkooks hands wandering all over you.

There is an eagerness over Jungkook which you can connect to the many times Jungkook has moved a little too close, a little too friendly compared to other friends.

This is his time to feel you, and you him.

He thrust down into you, soft and experimental. He tries again only to figure you out, how your body reacts, where you're most sensitive, all those things he still needs to learn about you. Third time he does it he hits something good enough to make you moan into his mouth.

He smiles succeeding into the kisses which are becoming rougher for every minute, and he thrusts again.

His hands wrap around your thighs, pulls you down aggressively and proceeds to wrap them around his own waist, all while the thrusts keeps going.

You whine as he breaks off the kisses and stops his movements down at your crotch. He looks at you with a smirk that you don’t like, and he says “We're gonna start out slow. No dick tonight."

You who can’t think straight makes a big fuss out of it. How can he rob you from that? How can he make you so flustered and then not give his cock to you?

"Ah, ah. No complaints." Jungkook says as his hand massage your thigh.

"But how am I gonna be satisfied if I can't get your dick tonight?" You sigh. Jungkook looks at you with a raised brow and a playful smile.

"I can make you scream for me to stop without using my dick. And that's a promise." You scuff.

You know he's right, but the brat in you will never admit to that.

"You don't believe me?" He ask. His eyes are filled with desire, his hand on your thigh goes lower and rougher.

"No, I don't" You say, and even though Jungkook can see right through you he jumps into the play.

"Well then I gotta prove it. Shirt and pants of, now." He commands as he lifts himself up from you. He watches with eyes that could be devastated as you lift your shirt off and button your pants down you are left in only underwear.

Jungkook attaches himself to your neck, kissing and sucking, the sounds he can make on your neck are sinful.

He helps you with the rest of your clothes, unclasping your bra, and pulling down your panties.

Only when you lay totally naked in front of him does he come of your neck to take a good look at you.

You're like a goddess to him, your body shines in front of him as if the sun is radiating off of you. The curves of your body and the rise of your chests are all like sweet pleasures in his eyes. Even though Jungkook had often wondered what you looked like this is nothing to compare to his imagines.

You shy in front of him, but he makes it his mission to make you comfortable when he crawls over your body and places himself between your legs, his hand goes through every curve and every dip, feeling them all up, feeling you up.

“You look so fucking alluring like this Y/N.” His lips trace the shell of your ear. Shivers goes down your spine, with how Jungkook makes you feel.

Your hands wander down to where his shirt tucks into his pants and you yank at the material nearly ripping it. He helps you slide the shirt off his body. As the shirt is off you nearly drool with red lustful eyes.

How was he this sexy, you knew Jungkook was trained and buff, but holy god, he's not just buff, it's the way his waist is formed, his shoulders broad and one covered in tattoos.

It's everything about him.

He uses the time of your admiration to slowly creep his hands up your thighs, and as he reach his desired destination he attacks it with skilled hands. Your mouth forms into an 'o' and your head falls back.

His long slim finger is circling around your clit, slow and easy, but the friction is enough to make you yelp into the arm you had thrown over your head. He lowers himself down to where his hands are, and you can only lay and feel as his breath fans over your throbbing pussy.

You were wet long before your clothes were off, but this only doubles the arousal and that is evident in the sounds it makes as his middle finger opens your folds and makes a long stripe down.

"Goddess, you're soaking, tell me it's all for me." He says and you shutter at the nickname. "Ah-! It's all for you Jungkook..." You manage to moan out and as you do his finger finally enters you.

The intrusion of his finger is unforgiving, and just a few pumps in and out later he adds another finger. He looks up at you while doing so and to say that you’re a hot mess is an understatement.

You’re grunting and begging, and the fact that you’re so fucked out only gives Jungkook more confidence as he curls his fingers inside you and hits your g-spot.

Why you are so obsessed already is a mystery, maybe it’s because you’re sex deprived, it had been months since your last hook up, or maybe it’s just because Jungkook is that good. To be fair you and Jungkook had build a sexual attention for years, now the bomb exploded.

You make eye contact with him. His eyes as lustful as your own. You can't think of anything else than the pleasure happening between your legs which only makes you messier in every movement you make.

Your hips curve against Jungkooks fingers and he adds a third finger. The stretch is perfect and you feel your orgasm move closer. "God! Jung- Jungkook please!" You yelp out and your hands yanks in the bed sheets. Jungkook smirks and the pace quickens as he feels your walls clench around his fingers. "What? You gonna cum?" He asks and blows onto your clit. "Mhm!" You whine out, you're not able to make any words in this moment.

"Need some help?" He asks and before you can even understand what he means his tongue attacks your clit. He laps at your clit swallowing all of your ambrosial juices, he moans when your hand intertwines with his hair and the friction makes your stomach clench.

As his teeth comes out to nip at your clit the water finally overflows and your body goes into overdrive, humping into his fingers and your legs practically locks around his head. Jungkook slurps all of your sweet arousal, every last drop he can get to and you have to peel him off you as it gets too much.

But as he looks up at you with an unsatisfied look, you know that he isn't done yet.

His hands grab onto your thighs hard, he turns you both around so he's lying on his back right under your cunt, and you're sitting on top of him.

"No Jungkook, it's too much." You say and sit lower on his stomach. "So you want me to stop?" Normally Jungkook would've backed away the minute you told him too, but he had made a promise, and he intended to keep it.

You remembered back to his words not too long ago, 'I can make you scream for me to stop and that's a promise.' and you know you can't stop now. You won't let him win this easily.

A daring expression covers your face and Jungkook doesn't hide his smirk. If there was one thing he had dreamed about doing with you it was face riding.

He wraps his hands around your thighs that are resting on either side of his head. The view of your cunt dripping with your previous arousal makes his dick grow in his pants and he knows he'll have to take care of it later.

It's Jungkook who yanks you down onto his face and before you can ask if he's okay, he's licking a big stripe over your entrance. You fall slightly back, your hands rests on his thighs and you lean on them to give Jungkook better access.

He takes his time licking and slurping, taking it slower this time than the first. You can already feel the overstimulation, your body is begging you to pull back, but you push it back and slowly a new pleasure overtakes.

"Fuck.. You taste like candy, I won't ever get tired of this." Jungkook mumbles into your cunt and you push down just a little with a smirk. "You like it that much, huh?" It's the first time Jungkook hears your voice normal after your high, and something in him gets turned on at your dirty talk.

Jungkooks dick grows enough to graze your arm on his thigh. You look back to see the bulge in his sweats, it's big and needy and you just have to turn your focus to it.

He chases your pussy as you get up. "What the fuck are you doing, get back onto my face." He says. You laugh at his comment, but also feel your walls clench. "Are you really this needy for my pussy?" You ask.

Before he can answer you turn around over his face, shifting spots between your right thigh and left thigh, and before he realizes what you're doing, you are again on top of his face.

He doesn't question the new position, he's too hungry for your honey like juices and his tongue does not take anything slow this time. His tongue goes in and out of you and his hands presses you further down to reach deeper into you. Every movement of yours halt at the familiar feeling of loosing every independent thought, you're lightheaded from the speed of Jungkooks tongue.

There is one thought that stays in your mind though, and you like a starved dog, rips Jungkooks sweats down and knead at his boxers where you feel his bulge.

He didn't expect it, he hadn't seen it coming when you turned around just moments before, but oh! He is not complaining. His eyes roll back and he thrust up into your hands. His tongue quickens the pace even more and he grunts as your pace too quickens.

This was not supposed to happen, you should have told him to stop by now, but he's so glad you didn't. This is better than anything he had planned for this night, and when you pull his boxers down and put his cock in your mouth Jungkook totally malfunctions.

Moaning and grunting into your pussy, mumbling something with "Ah- Fuck!", his tongue halts a bit, but never stops, and he actually can't believe that he are doing 69 with you right now. You can't either, but then again there is no thoughts going through your brain other than the pleasure.

You bob your head up and down as good and as precise as you can in this moment, but how good that is you have no idea. It's only cause of Jungkooks grunts and pleases that you think it's going well for you. But it's not enough for you, your head screams for you to take his cock deeper, so you do.

You deep throat him, pushing yourself onto him, and Jungkook looses it completely. His tongue stops the assaults at your pussy and instead he uses his energy to fuck into your mouth. "Oh Shit! Y/N, ye- yea like that." His hands come on top of your head and he pushes just slightly. Gagging around his cock, tears swell in your eyes, Jungkook would've stopped if it wasn't because he knows you like it.

You've always told him you like to be manhandled, to be pushed a bit further than others limits, and this is what you meant.

"Fuuuck, You take it so well, fuck yea! So good for me." He says and a drop of your arousal falls onto his mouth reminding him of what he had been doing before you so sneakily started sucking him off.

It's when Jungkooks tongue picks up where it left with the same pace that you falter. You hump onto his face while he fucks into yours. It's a cycle of pleasure going over you two, and it's just a matter of fact who cum first.

You're not in doubt that it is going to be you. You're already clenching and humping like a mad woman, and Jungkook has in some way regained his mind.

As Jungkooks fingers finds your clit your orgasm finally explodes. Jungkooks dick pops out of your mouth and slaps against your cheek as you fall forwards against his stomach. "Fuck! Jungkook, I'm cumming!" You yell and press yourself as deep onto him as you can. When your high is over Jungkook again insists on you staying, and he holds you over his face as his tongue keeps assaulting your pussy. You know it's still because of the promise, but you are too proud and too stubborn to give in, so instead you find another way to stop him.

Your head once again bobs up and down over his cock. You wrap your tongue around the head of his dick and lick up the precum. Your lips feels pillow soft against his dick, and as you had hoped Jungkook stops the lick at your pussy and instead chases his own high.

His cock twitch inside your mouth and you know it's a question of seconds. Your hands find his balls, you squeeze them softly and lick up the vein on his cock. And just like you Jungkooks orgasm starts. "Fuuuu- uuck." He moans and hammer into your mouth.

His cum coats the back of your throat, your tongue, the inside of your cheeks. It's salty, and sweet and you agree with yourself that you love the combo. As he finishes and finally collapse on the bed, you turn around and lay on top of him.

He is covered in your cum, but he doesn't seem to mind as he smiles up at you and moves a piece of hair from your face.

Jungkook watches as you open your mouth, his cum is everywhere. He gets surprised though when you close your mouth again and swallow with the dirty sound of a loud gulp.

An arm covers his face as he can't hide his smile. You are so good at making him shy.

"That was the best head I've ever had." Jungkook says as he finds the courage to look at you again.

You smile at the compliment. "Thank you, you weren't so bad yourself."

It's so weird to you that you're not feeling weird about what just happened. It's quite peaceful, and there's no awkwardness as there should be when two friends have sex. The only thing that does confuse you is what you and Jungkook are.

You're still not best friends, you're not a couple, you're not just a hook up or friends with benefits, so what the hell are you?

Right now it doesn't matter. Not when you lay beside Jungkook with his arms around you and feel this good. Maybe it'll matter tomorrow morning when you wake up beside Jungkook, but not now.

[jade-len]

so today i tricked my very straight male friend into reading svsss.

okay look, i wasn't planning to at first and it's not like it was completely my fault. he wanted to read it!

i was showing him how badly they fucked up mu qingfang in the donghua by comparing it to the english novel design (he said that mu qingfang went from looking like a soft dilf to a predator registered on the epstein island list). and then, i showed him how different some of the other character designs were like gongyi xiao's ("he looks like he'd be a genshin character" -friend, to eng novel design) and luo binghe's ("lowkey, he kinda gives airbender vibes" -friend, to bunhe eng novel design)

so that was all i was gonna show him, nothing else. but after seeing them, he goes, "these designs actually look hella cool. what's the book called?"

now, do i:

A. tell him the name, eventually revealing that it's a danmei when he looks it up?

B. just straight up tell him that it's a danmei?

C: don't tell him the name just yet, spill the summary, get him interested, and tell him to not search anything up about it because there's heavy spoilers and it will reveal them the moment he types it up on the search bar

i go with C, obviously.

me: so, basically, some guy named shen yuan transmigrates into an incel harem male power fantasy novel where the protagonist, luo binghe, has hundreds of wives. thing is though, the guy pretty much took over the body of binghe's teacher he had when he was a teenager, who turns out to be a really scummy dude. and now he has to be nice to him so that the protagonist doesn't rip off his limbs and put him into a pickle pot in the future to suffer for eternity.

friend: that sounds hilarious and horrifying at the same time.

me: yes it is, and you should read it. it's like. my favorite novel at the moment. but don't search up anything about it because people spoil that shit. i'll let you borrow my novel

friend: nah don't worry, i'll just pirate it

friend: wait. does it have pictures?

me, my plan coming together: yeah, it has pictures. buuut, when you pirate it, it doesn't. trust me dude, i tried and was severely disappointed. plus, the physical copy is so much better

friend: fuck yeah ok thanks

me: hold on though. i'll text you later to see if my friend who's borrowing it rn is done reading it

he's hyped. he's excited. he craves a good book and a good transmigration interpretation. he's especially happy about the fact that it takes place in a chinese setting with cool powers and an actual good main character. "this sounds so good, god i wanna read it so bad."

i tell him that binghe is actually adorable, too. that it's pretty much found family! my friend then asks if shen yuan adopts him and becomes a father figure or something.

and i said "yes". you know, like a liar. (the father figure part probably isn't a lie though)

now i'm gonna give him the novel tomorrow! of course, i'm gonna cover the chapter 2 bunhe sexual awakening scene with washi tape and say that my baby cousin (sorry baby cousin, you would never <\3) scribbled all over that paragraph with her markers, and since i'm a neat book freak, i put washi tape and just wrote the scene! i don't know if that's really all too believable, but he didn't seem to care that much. just a simple "if my baby cousin did that to my book i would punt them into the sun"

i think what'll be more hilarious is the fact that you can't really tell that svsss is a BL. especially not volume 1. there's like, only a few lines indicating, but if you remove the baby binghe sexual awakening scene then you probably won't be able to know (...if you don't really read romance or anything. idk he's kinda dense anyways). so let's hope he gets attached and has a slow descent into the homo before i drop svsss vol 2 on him!

ok anyways i'll update you guys later with a reblog. maybe in about two or three days lol

(also don't worry, we already fuck around with each other on a daily basis like this. he's already tricked me into reading some manga i was unprepared for, and i thought that it'd be funny to mess around with him using svsss this time lol)

[ash5monster01]

Glass Houses

Chapter Seven - Through The Long Night 🎶

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: depression, ptsd, minor angst, mentions of evil, mentions of trauma, fluff

Summary: Pregnant with your first child you find the nightmares of Hawkins creeping back in. The only thing Steve can do is comfort you.

word count: 2.2k

Six ←→ Eight

Masterlist

Summer 1991

You're broken hearted from a long, long time ago

It's late when Steve rolls into the driveway, already dark out after a long and warm summer day. What confuses him is the pitch black house in front of him, not even a flicker of life shining from inside. You knew he'd be back from his business trip late tonight, had even expressed your excitement over the phone. He had expected to see you waiting up for him on the couch, smiling with anticipation after the long three days you spent without each other. He had been dying to see you but the coldness of the house in front of him makes him think you weren't the same.

The house is just as it seems on the outside. Cold and dark, each room lacking a sign of life. It briefly reminds Steve of a time in his life when it was only him who lived in this home, dreading his return to it each night. It isn’t until he reaches the top of the stairs he hears the faint noise of music coming from your shared bedroom. He recognizes the tune as Billy Joel’s album Glass Houses. The beginning notes of I Don't Want to Be Alone beginning to play softly into the room. Carefully he turns the knob on the door just to find the bedroom is just as dark as the rest of the house, your form curled under the covers, but he can tell you're not asleep.

"Rosy, I'm home" he calles out, navigating the dark room carefully as he moves to your side of the bed. You shift lightly as he sits on the edge, arm automatically reaching and caging you onto the bed. His free hand reaches for the lmap, flicking it on to finally reveal you in some warm light.

"Everything okay?" he inquires, smiling softly at you. The hand propping him up by your hip glides up slowly to brush across the expanse of your stomach, a small bump jutting out and ruining your chance of wearing any of your favorite jeans. You try to smile up at him, but as his hand rests against the very thing making you this anxious, you can't bring yourself to do it. Steve notices this as you set your hand on top of his own. It hits him, the cold hands, sad eyes, the dark silence, something was upsetting you. Upsetting you enough to hideaway so you don't have to face it.

"How was your trip?" you ask, avoiding the question as best you could but Steve doesn't care about if his trip was good or not. The whole time he only thought about coming back home to you and your soon to be little one. He didn't want to think about that trip ever again, he just wanted to spend time with you. When he doesnt respond to the question and instead calls your real name softly into the room, you realize he won't let this go.

"You're scaring me, what's going on?" he beckons, reaching to brush some hair out of your face and due to the hormones you are unable to stop the tears from rushing to your eyes, seeping down the sides of your face and into the pillows.

"The other day Mrs. Wheeler invited me to dinner since I was here all alone. She said she missed having us kids and wanted to have us all together for a night, especially while the kids were home from college. Nancy convinced me to go and I was excited. We laughed and had fun, even played a board game in the basement. Just like old times" you smile softly at him, eyes glimmering with tears and his eyebrows draw together in confusion, still not understanding where this had all taken a turn.

"Okay, that sounds fine. Actually a bit sad I missed out" Steve says witht he shake of his head, trying to find the detail that would cause such a sadness out of you.

"It got late and some of the kids started to drift to sleep. I realized I hadn't been in that basement since Max..." you dont need to finish as you get choked up on tears because Steve finally understands what happened. You sigh, hating how you tremble with tears shed for something that hasn't even happened.

"I'm terrified those things are going to come back one day and we wont be able to stop it. I'm terrified our kid will be unable to escape them just as us. I nearly lost you so many times, I faced injuries I still never fully recovered from. I remembered all the bad and I hate that in just a few short months my heart will be on the outside of my chest and I won't have any way to protect it" you cry, holding your stomach that held the child you already loved more than anything on this earth. You knew the minute he or she was born, they'd carry your heart with them forever and in a place like Hawkins, the risk was higher.

"Baby, the monsters are gone. Its been a long time since we've had to fight any of them. We can't worry too much, there will be things other than monsters our kid will have to face in life and we'll be here for every single one of them. The best we can do is teach our kids how to defend themselves and to trust us when things as scary as a demogorgon faces them" Steve reassures, pulling you closer to him. His words calm you only slightly but you had been left alone with these thoughts for far too long for them to go away that easily.

“I know, I just don’t think I’m ready to face that just yet” you whisper into the dark room and Steve sighs, loosening his grip on you so he can stand.

“What do you need from me?” he asks, wanting to be there for you while you work through this. He knows it’s normal and probably 50% hormones. A first time mother is meant to worry and if his words weren’t enough to reassure you he would do whatever else it was that could comfort you.

“Just, wait through the night with me” you tell him and he nods, toeing off his shoes and making quick work of unhooking the buckle of his belt. You watch him, in a much less shameless way, but more with admiration. You’re beautiful husband who somehow always looked more handsome than ever.

Once he’s stripped down to his boxers he crawls into his side of the bed, eyes catching the clock as he does. It’s so late but he’ll wait through the long night with you, wanting you to work through whatever these emotions were. When he settles behind you he feels the familiar shudder of your back that indicates warm tears and the start of bad dreams. The soft trembling of your shoulders against his chest as you relive old fears. He wished he could make you realize he was here, for all of it. Not just for tonight but for every moment after. That was half of him in there too and that terrified him every day. Being responsible for a kid when he never had any experience with good parents of his own.

"It's okay" he reassures, voice a soothing hush as he tries to coo you to sleep. It's comforting to have him back but those nightmares that you once pushed so deep down were at the surface again and no matter what Steve did, he couldn’t coax it out of you.

As Steve lays there, smelling the florals of your shampoo and feeling the warmth of your skin, he wonders what dating him had cost you. If you had never been together you wouldn't know about the darkness that lurks in Hawkins and had seen all of those horrible things. He had almost lost you, once a long time ago when fighting that very evil. That was the last time he ever wondered if his happiness was worth the nightmare. He wished you would have told him how bad it was, how deeply it affected you, but he also knew the exact position you were in. You had to bleed to know and all those sins are since past.

"You should be sleeping. It’s alright, sleep tight through the long night with me" he whispers, hand tucking your hair down against the pillow and pulling you tight against him. You relax into the comfort of his arms, enjoying the pressure his hold gives you. Like an anchor at sea.

"It's not your fault you know, I think I would've ended up finding out about the upside down even if I didn't know you. You didn’t start it" you tell him, eyes cast on the stereo on the other side of the room that glows as it plays the comforting music. Billy Joel who had now been both of your favorites. Steve loves how you know exactly what he's thinking even as you are fighting your own demons. This was the very reason he fell for you. No one on this earth understood him more than you. Becoming new parents already came with its own set of fears but knowing where you live adds so much more to that. Steve knows you're broken hearted from a long time ago and there is nothing he can do now to fix it but sit here and hold you.

"The way you hold me is all I need to know" Steve tells you and you offer up a soft smile, rolling to face him and wrap your arms around him as well. Hugging each other in the comfort of your home where you are soon to raise your kid. It’s late but you'll both wait through the long night with each other. Until the sun comes up and the demons from the past seem much less scary. When Steve's presence in the home has returned and you feel a layer of safety around the bubble you managed to pop in just three days. Your pregnant belly nudges against his own stomach and he grins, dropping a hand to cup gently over the bump.

"Did the work trip go okay?" you ask again, this time not as a distraction but as an actual investment into your husbands life.

"It was fine, lots of paperwork and a few drunk co-workers but we managed to sign off on a few deals. I just couldn’t wait to get back to you two" Steve says and your heart soars over the idea of there being more than just the two of you. In fact you couldn't wait for the day there was even more. Despite your fears the idea of a full home, kids as sweet as the ones you've protected over the years, was the real dream.

"We couldn't wait for you to get back either" you smile softly at him, leaning forward to press your lips against his in a sweet kiss. He sighs gently at the feeling, hand leaving your bump to tuck into your hair as he kisses you slowly. The very reunion kiss he had been desperately waiting on. You hum in delight, imagining a day your child is actually here to wait with you and be curled up in both of your arms. If someone had told you all those years ago when you met Steve in a record store, that you'd be having his kid, you would've begged for a time machine.

"You give any thoughts to a name yet?" he curiously asked, face so close now that you could admire the soft curve of his eyelashes. You don't even realize he has already distracted you from the sadness within. Mind moving further and further away.

"Possibly" you tease him with a cheeky grin and he laughs, squeezing softly at the dough of your waist before pulling you even closer. Your legs instantly tangle with his own.

"Care to share with the class?" he asks and you smile, moving your hands to brush the soft locks of hair out of his face. He watches you closely, admiring the extra glow you’ve had through this entire pregnancy. Happy you've taken the bait and have slowly started to calm in his arms. If only he knew how much you had spiraled throughout the entirety of this past weekend.

"If it’s a girl, I was thinking Clara" you tell him, hand mindlessly brushing down your tummy and yearning to actually touch the baby inside.

"And for a boy?" he asks and you smile, eyes shining into his own.

"What do you think of Johnny?" and just as you predicted, a look of shock paints his features as you mention his Grandfather's name. John Harrington, the very man who made Steve the kind and caring human he was today and the very man that introduced him to Billy Joel. In a sense you never would have met if it wasn't for that.

"It's perfect" he says and you smile, leaning forward and kissing him again. This time the kiss is less savory, more eagerness behind it due to the excitment of a baby boy or girl coming in just a few months.

"I knew you'd like it"

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Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 5

snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

HEY YALL!! oh my lordddd this was so fun and emotionally draining to write lowkey, i had o children on repeat at the end and i was in my BAG, that song destroys me.

if you're still here and still following this series, thank you very much, i truly do appreciate your support - that means all the likes, follows, reblogs, comments - everything and anything <33 if you are new, hello, welcome, hi, the beginning chapters will be on my blog, just scroll down, this series is the only thing i have posted, i'll be adding the part links in tomorrow as i want to go to bed hehe

i love u guys so much :) pls make sure you drink enough water today!

this is a very long chapter by the way so pls prepare yourself for potential spelling mistakes!

alright... away we goooo!!!

As you sprinted down the corridor, it felt like it was never-ending. You were almost out of breath as you reached the scene, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you stared up in horror at the second bloody message. It eerily read: 'Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever'.

"Oh my…" You breathed out shakily; the loudening sound of a crowd of hurried footsteps began to get closer and closer to you. Looking to the right, you spotted the other teachers - McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, Flitwick, Sinistra, Snape and the caretaker, Filch. They all looked as distressed as you did, even Snape who is usually devoid of any emotion.

"The heir of Slytherin has left another message," McGonagall stated apprehensively, gesturing to the defamed wall with an outstretched hand as the other teachers gathered around, all sporting the same worrisome look. "Our worst fear has been realised. A student has been taken by the monster, into the Chamber itself." The Head of Gryffindor's voice was shaky, it sounded like she was about to burst into tears. You glanced at her with sad eyes, and she beckoned you to come to her with her other arm. You padded over to McGonagall as she laid an arm around your shoulders comfortingly, her thumb gently rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

Being the youngest of the teachers, you were taking this rather hard. Most of all, you were worried for the rest of your students. "What do we do Minerva?" You asked quietly after a moment of silence as the group of you stared at the wall in disbelief and what felt like denial. "The students must be sent home… I'm afraid this is the end of Hogwarts." She announced, her brows knitting together in a dramatic show of despair. You felt your stomach drop. The end of Hogwarts?…

Before you could get another word in, a familiar, cocky face appeared. "So sorry. Dozed off. What have I missed?" Lockhart asked over-enthusiastically with his signature million-dollar grin, bouncing on his heels as he clasped his hands together behind his back. You clenched your jaw in anger at him, your eyes narrowing into an unwelcoming glare as you stared at the man.

"A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Your moment has come at last." Snape said bitterly, standing tall.

"My m-moment?" Lockhart replied, stumbling over his words like he'd just seen a ghost.

"Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?" Snape quipped as the speed of sound, his tongue laced with venom. You glanced at Severus for a quick moment, your stomach doing somersaults. Instantly, Lockhart's grin disappeared. You swallowed thickly as he dared to glance at you, his mouth parting slightly in shock. Your jaw clenched again as you shuffled in your spot, resisting the urge to curse the man. McGonagall's comforting hand tightened around your shoulder.

"That's settled. We'll leave you to deal with the monster, Gilderoy." McGonagall said matter-of-factly. "Your skills, after all, are legend." She added, not hiding the smugness in her voice at all. The corner of your lip quirked up the tiniest amount at her words. Lockhart's face was the pure definition of shock for the last few seconds before he quickly returned to his fake, proud grin.

"Very well. Uh, I'll just be in my office getting err… getting ready!" Lockhart announced, feigning excitement. Did he think you were stupid? All of you could see through his brave act and see his true cowardly self. As you all stared at him, he spun on his heel and turned around, almost sprinting back in the direction of his office. You couldn't help but scoff quietly as he turned the corner, rolling your eyes at his pathetic self as you looked back at the message messily scrawled out on the wall. Your stomach twisted at the thought of one of your students being brutally slaughtered at the hands of a beast. It felt as if someone had just pushed you from a great height.

"Who is it that the monster's taken, Minerva?" Madam Pomfrey asked with inquisitive yet cautious eyes, pulling you from your thoughts. Professor McGonagall looked away for a moment, blinking slowly.

"Ginny Weasley." McGonagall replied gravely, sharing a glance with Madam Pomfrey before walking away, presumably back to her office. You'd been nurturing your Mandrakes with precision, but this whole debacle spurred you on to do as much as you could, even if that meant destroying yourself in the process. The students of Hogwarts' safety meant the world to you. You couldn't imagine the fear that was probably streaming through them all right now.

Ever since you were called by McGonagall to the second-floor corridor to witness the final bloody message scrawled against the wall, you'd been awake almost twenty-four hours a day; sleeping in your greenhouse at your desk to ensure you were there the exact moment your Mandrakes were ready to be stewed and made into juice for the Mandrake Restoration potion. Dark purple rings had appeared around your eyes as you worked day and night, fertilising, feeding and watering the Mandrakes, guaranteeing that the they were at their best when the time came. The threat of more students being attacked or snatched kept you awake most of the time.

Nothing of the sort had ever happened at Hogwarts before, and deep down, you were a little terrified. Though you refused to show it, it would only scare the students more. You had also heard through the grapevine that Hagrid had been arrested on suspicion of opening the Chamber of Secrets, which broke your heart. That man would never do such a thing, and you were positive he was being set up for it. It was a blistery, cold and frosty winter night and you had nodded off again whilst caring for the Mandrakes; your head drooped in the cradle of your arms on top of the table with your hair falling over your arms like a waterfall. You stirred awake, and it was a brutal war to open your eyes as the chilling air bit at your bare arms like a rabid dog. Shivering, you quickly blinked, rubbing your sore eyes with tired fingers, a gasp leaving your lips as you laid your eyes upon the scene in front of you. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Before you had fallen asleep, the Mandrakes were in their own pots. Now, they had moved into each others. They'd finally matured! All those early morning and late nights you'd slaved away had paid off. Your chest was bursting with pride as you grinned to yourself. It was a bittersweet moment for sure.

"Yes!" You exclaimed, the rush of excitement fuelling you to stand up from your chair. You clasped your hands together eagerly, staring at the nesting Mandrakes like a baby who just took their first steps. You were so proud.

Humming to yourself, you stood there blankly. If you were being honest, you had to wrack your brain for a moment as the lack of sleep was starting to get to you - your brain was a little foggy. Yet, you pushed through it, retrieving your wand from your robes, but to your surprise it wasn't there. Your brows furrowed as you looked down at your empty pockets. It must have fallen out when you nodded off. You bent down quickly, scanning underneath the table with tired eyes, and sure enough, there was your wand. Sitting all by it's lonesome. You retrieved it with nimble fingers and stood back up with a whoosh, aiming your wand at the root of a Mandrake in front of you. "Diffindo." You spoke clearly, flicking your wand in a up-and-down motion, watching carefully as a thin white light severed off a thick piece of Mandrake root. It fell and landed on the table with a muffled thud. Quickly retrieving it, you placed it into a dark brown woven bag to the left of you, sealing it closed with the ivory-coloured drawstrings. Now, it was time to pay the Bat a visit. Hopefully he didn't cause you much… stress.

You sighed quietly, turning around with a whirl to have a quick look in a old, dusty mirror that had been overgrown by some vines of ivy. Merlin, you had really been neglecting yourself. You grimaced as you stared at your unrecognisable reflection, noticing the purple circles around your eyes. "Yeesh," you grit your teeth, fingers coming up to trace the lines forming at the end of your eyes.

It's not like you were there to impress Snape anyway, you were going there to drop off the Mandrake extracts and help him with the potion. That was it. Nothing else. Your chest tightened slightly at the thought, of course you wished it was different, but this was Professor Severus Snape you were talking about. The man was emotionless, he had no time for such childish things. A soft, strained groan slipped from your lips as you shut your eyes for a moment, just imagining what it'd be like if did feel the same way you did. Perhaps he'd make you tea in the mornings, visit you during your breaks, maybe even bring you small, meaningful gifts. Sighing defeatedly, you shook away your fantasy from your mind, slipping back into gloomy reality.

You made your way out of the greenhouse, but not before readjusting your dress and brushing through your hair with your fingers messily, a quiet 'ouch' falling from your lips as you reached a knot. Feelings or not, you wanted to at least look presentable. Falling asleep on your worktable didn't really do you any justice.

The obsidian night-sky had taken over from the blue one earlier, and you couldn't help but notice how beautiful the stars looked twinkling in the sky tonight. You stopped for a moment and admired it, quickly spotting your favourite constellation, Aquila. It took you back in time for a moment, remembering the fond times you had teaching students in Astronomy. You still loved Astronomy, but Herbology is where you truly belonged.

As you bid the night a silent farewell, you carried yourself into the castle, ensuring to be as quiet as possible considering it was around eleven o'clock at night, perhaps even midnight. You hurried to the spiral staircases leading down to the dungeons, that familiar, vile damp smell hitting your nose once again. Your nose scrunched up in disgust. As you continued down the path towards Snape's classroom, you spotted it; a warm amber light flooding out from underneath the door. It wasn't exactly a surprise that he was still awake, you knew he was usually out patrolling each night to catch students out of bed past curfew. You rolled your eyes at the thought and proceeded to rap on his door with your knuckles, awaiting his response, bag in hand.

"Come in." Came an agitated voice. You cringed slightly at yourself and opened his door and wandered in. As your eyes glanced around his classroom, you were instantly transported back to the times you'd served detention in here, scribbling rather inappropriate things on scraps of parchment. Looking back to Snape, you noticed he was sat at his desk, nose deep in what you assumed to be assignments. Your stomach suddenly felt rather light.

"Hello," you said sheepishly, stopping in front of his door as you shut it behind you, "You're up late." You commented, offering him a polite smile. Severus looked up confusedly from behind his desk, his brows furrowing as he noticed it was you and not a student. As his eyes connected with yours, they sent an anxious, shivery rush through your body.

"Y/N," Severus greeted you, his face still adorned with his infamous scowl as he looked at you directly for several seconds, scrutinising you as he tried to comprehend what you were doing at his office at such an ungodly hour. "What are you doing here?"

"The Mandrakes matured," you said excitedly, holding up the bag in your hand. Snape's gaze fell to your hands, eyeing the bag with an ounce of curiosity. "We can start the potion now to cure the students." You added happily.

Severus leaned back in his chair, looking back down at the assignments in front of him. You were a little bummed that he didn't look happier. "Brilliant, you may put them here." He said blankly, patting the empty space on his desk next to his pile of assignments. After several seconds, he spoke again with a curious tone. "…You said 'we', Y/N?" He stared at you. The way he said your name made your face redden.

"Erm, yes, well, I don't want you to over-stew the Mandrake root," You said with a cheeky smile. You were trying to lighten to glum mood. It was risky but worth it. High risk, high reward, you thought. "I thought it would be best if I did for you, since I was the one that raised them." You explained, shrugging sheepishly. Severus could sense the swelling pride in your voice, but he didn't mention anything, he wasn't sure if he'd say something awful and hurt you. It was rather pleasant to see you smiling in his presence instead of the usual upset and angry side of you.

Severus sat for a moment and pondered before speaking once more. "Very well." He said, that cold tone still very present in his voice. You bit down a little too harshly on your bottom lip out of nervousness, padding forwards to set the Mandrake roots down on a desk in the middle of the classroom. As you glanced around the classroom once more, fond memories of you and your friends whispering and sneaking notes to each other in class began to flood your mind, a nostalgic smile tugging at your lips.

"Are the cauldrons still in the same place?" You asked Severus, turning your head over your shoulder to look at him.

"Yes." Was all he said, nose still buried deep in his work. You rolled your eyes softly at his ridiculous work ethic. Every time you came in this room, he was always working hard. Of course, you admired his industrious nature, but you thought he would at least give himself some leeway and put the assignments down, maybe read a book or do something a little less work-related. Though, you weren't one to judge, perhaps he enjoyed it.

"Nothing changes around here." You chuckled quietly to yourself, a small smile spreading across your face as you wandered in the direction of Snape's storage cupboards, your fingers wrapping around the handle. Pulling it open with a exhausted squeak of the old and worn hinges, you let your eyes roam over the equipment, searching for a spare cauldron. As you had your back turned, Severus sneaked a glance at you over his assignments, his eyes narrowing vaguely as he stared at you for a short moment. Before you turned back around with the cauldron in your hand, he'd already returned his gaze to his desk.

Walking back to the desk you'd chosen to stew your Mandrake root, you let your eyes flick over at Severus for a quick moment, indulging in his appearance. Your eyes lingered, and you realised you loved the way his hair fell around his pale face like a pair of old curtains, a single strand curling onto his prominent nose. A tiny, bashful smile fell on your lips as you looked back to the cauldron in your hands, stopping at the desk to place the cauldron down. Whilst you were setting it up, you kept sneaking cautious glances in the direction of the broody Potions Master, your heart beat speeding up each time your curious eyes landed on him.

You retrieved your wand from your robes and cast a spell on the cauldron, watching as water suddenly filled it three quarters of the way up. After that, you cast another spell to boil the water, your face relaxing a tad as you reached for the bag of Mandrake root to your right, opening it and retrieving said ingredient. You dropped it in the cauldron with a satisfying plop, observing it carefully. Now, you had to wait fifteen minutes for it to stew, keeping an eye out for when it turned bright green.

You looked up at Severus, who was still scratching away at assignments with his quill. "It'll be around fifteen minutes." You announced, not really expecting a reply. He merely grunted as a weak sign of acknowledgment. That was the best you were going to get currently. You sighed quietly to yourself and decided to take a stroll around his classroom to kill some time.

Heading towards the shelves of jars and containers of rather vile looking ingredients, you clasped your hands together behind your back, stopping to have a look at a jar of rat tails. You grimaced at the sight, quickly moving on to another row of less disgusting looking jarred items. A content hum left your lips as you spotted your powdered asphodel root, placed neatly in a small glass container to the right of a phial of Phoenix tears.

"I see you have a surplus of powdered asphodel root," You commented, turning around to glance at Severus, who to your surprise, was already staring at you. A flash of butterflies shot through you. "You won't need anymore for a while, then?" You cleared your throat, chewing on your bottom lip out of nervousness.

"Not until I brew another Draught of Living Death." Severus replied slowly and coldly, his eyes scrutinising you. You turned around, nodding, tearing your gaze from him, continuing to walk slowly and peek at each jar nosily.

"Do you ever miss certain students?" You asked, catching Snape off-guard. His brows furrowed at you slightly, partially confused at your question.

"Not particularly," He replied slowly again, his mind racing through countless ideas as to why you'd ask such a question. "If that's your way of asking if I miss having you as a student, my answer may hurt your feelings, Y/N." Severus's lips quirked up at the corners into a small, reluctant smirk. In lieu of the familiar rush of irritation surging through you at his comment, you instead found yourself smiling. You were a little surprised at yourself, you half-heartedly expected to take offense at his dig. Severus was surprised at your reaction too, but he did not show it.

"Understandable," You laughed quietly; the butterflies fluttering like a storm in your stomach. "I wasn't the best student for you, if my memory serves me right." Another soft laugh left you. Severus felt himself almost smile at the pretty sound that slipped from your lips. It was a little jarring to see such a change in character in you. He'd prepared himself for you to yell at him again, or at least insult him back.

"No." He agreed, still staring at you. "However, you weren't the worst."

"Who was?" You looked at him this time, genuinely curious. Severus grunted at your question.

"I believe you know. Or, perhaps, can guess at best."

A cheeky smirk perked up on your face. "Benjamin Bluewater?" You stared at Snape, waiting for his answer. He only tilted his head at you, raising his brows a tad. You took that as a yes from him. "Yeah, he was a menace." You hummed amusedly, thinking back to the times Bluewater had caused Snape grief. One time, the boy had set off a rather foul-smelling prank in Snape's classroom, rendering it useless for that period. Snape almost had the boy's head that day for that mischievous mishap. Bluewater was insanely lucky to have another teacher walk by, diffusing the situation.

"Yes," Snape sighed exasperatedly, leaning back in his desk chair. For the first time, you felt comfortable in his presence. It wasn't tense, nor uncomfortable, and you weren't on edge, waiting for an insult. "I don't think I've ever met someone so… distasteful." You frowned at him, obviously in disagreement.

"Lockhart, surely?" You offered. Severus cocked his brow and tilted his head, nodding frankly at you, as if to say 'Yes, that's true'. You laughed and turned around, starting to head back towards your cauldron as it was starting to hiss. "Yeah, he's insufferable." You said as you reached your cauldron and retrieved your wand, using it to stir the stew.

There was a few seconds of silence between you two, only the hissing and bubbling of the cauldron echoing in the classroom. "I'll be sad to see him go." Snape said finally. Your head whipped up at him, a look of shock and confusion on your face. "I won't have the honour of coming across you threatening him in a corridor late at night anymore." He added, his lips quirking up slightly again. A dry laugh left your lips as you turned back to your Mandrake stew. "It was always a thrilling experience each time I neared a corner in a corridor when patrolling at night."

"Funny." You scrunched your nose up, trying to hide the amused smile that was painted on your face. With your attention on something else, Severus couldn't help but let his eyes linger on you for a few more seconds, silently admiring the way your hair fell over your shoulders. "I think it's done, Severus."

"You think or you know it's done?" He quipped, standing slowly to walk over to you, his majestic cloak billowing out behind him. He halted himself beside you, peering into the cauldron.

"I know it's done." You rolled your eyes at him, earning an eyebrow raise from the Potions Master. You had to bite back a smile. "Would you like me to do the potion as well?" You asked jokingly, daring to glance up into his dark, almost black eyes. That was a mistake, your cheeks flared up immediately. You quickly averted your gaze back to the cauldron, hoping he didn't notice.

"I believe I am the Potion Master of this school," Severus glared at you like he was offended you'd even offer that. You tried to hold back your laugh. He was so demanding at times. "Considering your… messy history with potions, I think it would be best if I handled this part." He added with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"You make a great point, Severus." You rolled your eyes and stepped back, awaiting instructions. "Can I at least get the ingredients?" You asked eagerly, sounding like a child. You cringed a little at yourself. "Very well." Severus sighed, his eyes still glued to the cauldron. As he finished speaking, you spun on your heel and headed to where you were strolling earlier. You paused for a moment, realising that you had no idea what the ingredients were. Before you could ask, Severus was already on the case. "Dandelion root, Phoenix tears and purified water." He listed, almost tiredly. You blushed furiously at the fact you'd embarrassed yourself yet again in front of Snape.

"Okay…" You trailed off, eyes frantically searching the shelves. My asphodel root was next the Phoenix tears, you thought, shuffling to the right slightly to reach for the phial of Phoenix tears. Dandelion root must be placed with the other Herbology based ingredients, surely? you wondered. Sure enough, you were right, your eyes landed on the jar of dandelion roots; hand reaching out to grab it. Erm, purified water, purified water… you thought, eyes scanning the shelves, quickly stopping as you spotted it pushed behind a container of fish eyes. "Ew…" You muttered, pushing the fish eyes aside to grab the purified water. Severus had the tiniest amused smile on his face as he watched you search the shelves for the Mandrake Restorative Draught ingredients, he was thoroughly entertained.

As you turned around to look back at Snape, ingredients in hand, your eyes caught his, and you noticed the smile on his lips. It almost made your knees buckle, you'd never seen him smile like that before, let alone at you. Immediately, the smile was wiped from his lips as your eyes connected. It made you a little sad that he felt he had to hide his true emotions from you.

"You are an expert at dawdling, Y/N." Severus commented, his eyes returning to their usual cold and harsh nature.

"Well, not that it's obvious to you, but I don't tend to come in here very much anymore." You quipped back, arching your brow at his words. It was intriguing to you to see just how fast he could just switch expressions. Snape offered you a condescending gaze as he brushed off your sassy reply. "Here, I've got everything you need." You said, placing the jars and vials on the desk in front of the two of you. "Brilliant." Was all Severus said as he barely acknowledged you, his shoulder-length mop of raven-black hair acting like a shield to his face. He was much taller than you, so you couldn't see past it whilst standing beside him.

"Can I watch?" You asked sheepishly, making Snape turn around to look at you. His brows knitted together, observing you silently. With a soft sigh, he turned back around to the cauldron and proceeded to pick up the jar of dandelion roots.

"If you must." Severus replied, a hint of curiosity in his voice. A small, appreciative smile fell on your lips. He glanced at you once more from beside you, sending butterflies soaring through you. You focused your attention onto his hands, watching how his quick and skilful fingers opened each jar gracefully, preparing them for each step. You watched as Severus took a pinch of the dandelion root, gently adding it into the cauldron, careful not to disturb the Mandrake root. After that, he grasped the vial of Phoenix tears with a cautious hand and poured it into the mixture, his eyes lighting up at the bubbles that started to form on top of the potion. Severus reached for the final ingredient of purified water. Dropping it in slowly, the mixture quickly shifted to a muted tone of green.

"Now, let it simmer for a minute or so, then stir it once clockwise, and then twice anticlockwise." Severus instructed sternly, picking up the empty jars and containers.

"Right," You nodded, a little nervous. You couldn't screw it up, right? Stepping forwards, you watched Severus stalk away to the shelves, glass jars and containers in hand. You looked back to the potion and waited for a minute and a bit, before using your wand to stir the green mixture once clockwise, and then twice anti-clockwise. A soft blow of air left your lips as a sign of relief.

"Well done. If only you could have been this competent when you were a student." Snape said sarcastically, peering into the cauldron, his brows raising in approval as he threw a side-ways glance at you. You rolled your eyes at him, fighting the urge to say something back. "Keep rolling your eyes, perhaps you'll find a brain back there." Snape quipped, obviously growing tired of your eye-rolls. It was impossibly hard not to roll your eyes at him right then and there, it was so fitting to do so. "I believe it's ready." He said, nodding once. A happy, proud and prideful grin broke out on your face as your stared at the draught, a sense of accomplishment washing over your small form. As Severus glanced down at you again, he couldn't help but stare at your happy little face, an odd and unusual sensation stirring in his chest. He swiftly turned away from you without saying anything else and headed back to his desk, leaving you alone, hiding his face as the smallest of smiles picked at the corners of his lips.

You had brought the draught to Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary at once. She was ever so grateful and thankful towards you, however, you were rather adamant that it was Severus she should be thanking. "Thank you so much, Professor L/N!" Madam Pomfrey cried with the Mandrake Restorative Draught in her hands, a gasp of relief leaving her lips as she lead you around the corner of a curtain, your body freezing as your eyes fell on a Petrified student. It was Hermione Granger.

"You should really be thanking Severus," You chuckled awkwardly, clasping your hands in front of your hips. "It wouldn't have been made without him, considering he is the Potions Master after all." You said, a hint of a laugh at the end of your sentence. "I only grew the Mandrakes." You added.

"Of course, but the Mandrake is the most important ingredient, do you not agree?" She said, turning to glance at you as she administered the potion to the skin of a Petrified Hermione. It stinged you a little to see a student of yours frozen and paralysed, almost lifeless. So you looked away, your eyes finding an interest in the floor.

"I suppose, but I wouldn't have been able to brew it myself, even Severus himself said I shouldn't." You hummed. Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes softly at you. You pursed your lips.

"Don't believe anything that gloomy bat says, Professor L/N, you're more than capable of anything if you put your mind to it." She said sternly, her long dress gliding across the floor elegantly as she moved away from Hermione and to the next student behind the next curtain to your left. She left you alone to your thoughts, and perhaps she was right. Maybe you were capable of brewing the potion, but even if you were, you would still rather have Severus do it, especially since it was an urgent requirement. It had to be perfect.

A few days had passed since you had distributed the antidote to Madam Pomfrey and today was Friday, the last day of term for the students before they left Hogwarts to return home to their families for Christmas. Mixed emotions stirred within you as you sat at the table with the other professors, your eyes glazing over the House tables sat in front of you. This term had been full of unusual and unexpected moments, and you were hoping it would simmer down the next term. You weren't too sure whether you'd survive anything like that again. In fact, you were almost positive.

"Hello, and good evening to all," Dumbledore announced, wandering up to his beloved golden Owl Lecturn, his long and worn fingers latching around the wings. "Before we begin to indulge in this excellent feast, let us have a round of applause for Professor L/N," The Headmaster said, almost making you snap your neck from the speed you looked up. You were not expecting Dumbledore to publicly thank you. "Madam Pomfrey, whose Mandrake juice has been so successfully administered to all who had been petrified." He finished, and your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. You didn't do well being in the spotlight, let alone being thanked by the entire school for something so miniscule in your eyes. You smiled sheepishly and gave a gracious nod at everyone who suddenly erupted into a chorus of cheers and applause. Looking to your right, you caught the eyes of Severus, who, to your surprise, was gazing at you proudly, a small, hesitant smile on his face. You smiled back at him and nodded once, resisting the grin that was itching to break out.

"Also, in light of recent events, as a school treat, all exams have been cancelled." Dumbledore added, which encouraged an even louder round of applause and further cheers. You allowed yourself to grin this time, relishing in the happiness of the students and teachers surrounding you. It was such a pleasant atmosphere, and all you could feel spreading through you was a homely-like warmth. Hogwarts had always been your home at heart, but this seemed to cement it.

Suddenly, the cheering and clapping ceased as the doors creaked open, revealing a very tall, very large bearded man with long, frizzy chocolate hair. He sported some raggedy matching brown clothes, and from this you could easily guess it was Hagrid. Mainly from his sheer height, but the beard and hair was also a dead giveaway. "Sorry I'm late," he announced, glancing around awkwardly, "the owl that delivered my release papers got all lost and confused. Some ruddy bird called Errol." He said, widening his eyes in a tired, yet joking manner. You couldn't help but smile at his comment, and a few quiet giggles fell from some first and second year students.

You leaned to Flitwick who was seated beside you. "Do you know who's owl that is?" You whispered curiously, glancing between the shorter Charms Master and Hagrid. Flitwick looked at you with an amused smile.

"Ron Weasley's owl, of course." He chuckled softly, returning his attention to the scene unfolding in front of him. You hummed. Of course it was, the bird matched his owner very well, you thought, another joyous smile gracing your lips.

"Without further ado," Dumbledore's raspy, wise voice boomed through the Great Hall, capturing everyone's attention. "Let us begin!" He cheered, a wide grin spreading across his bearded cheeks.

Instantaneously, plates upon plates of delicious, mouth-watering food materialised right in front of your eyes. Glorious and juicy roast turkey adorned with all the helpings sat temptingly in front of your placemat, a bowl of golden and crisp roasties to the right of it. Steaming hot green veggies sat to the left of the turkey, and you just couldn't wait to dig in, your stomach was growling like a chained up wolf. You let out a soft gasp at the beautiful sight, your eyes twinkling with delight. After all this chaos in just a few months time, you were all well-deserving of such gorgeous food.

"The food looks absolutely delicious, Dumbledore, thank you." You poked your head past Flitwick, looking at the older wizard with a grin, who had settled himself down in the Head seat. He casted his wrinkled, yet sparkling and wise eyes to you, and nodded graciously. "You are most welcome, Professor L/N." He smiled politely. You returned his smile without a beat and turned back to your plate, using the supplied silverware and utensils to serve yourself some of the rich and brilliant food in front of you.

Conversations and cheerful laughter surrounded you, and you couldn't have felt happier than right now. Whilst chewing on a piece of asparagus, you sneaked a glance at where Severus was sat, however, you found he was not there anymore. A sad frown pulled your brows together, and you swiftly glanced around the hall for a tall, black figure, but nothing caught your eye. You swallowed your mouthful and placed your utensils down on the plate with a soft clink. You turned to Flitwick again.

"Did Severus leave?" You asked quietly, careful to keep your voice down.

Flitwick turned to you, munching away happily on a hot roastie. He nodded before swallowing. "Yes, he tends to avoid these sorts of things. Each year he never fails to leave right before the big feast." The Charms professor explained. A sad knot twisted in your stomach at the thought of him being alone on a such a happy occasion. Though, it wasn't all too surprising. He does seem like the type to prefer to be alone instead of spending it with people he… works with. You pondered on your thoughts for a moment, before deciding to stand up.

"Excuse me." You smiled at the shorter professor beside you, grabbing your plate and loading it with some extra turkey meat, potatoes and some vegetables. Flitwick looked up at you with another mouthful, a little curious as he chewed and watched you get extra helpings with inquisitive eyes. With a full plate in hand, you quickly downed your goblet of wine. Flitwick didn't press you for answers to the nosy questions that were circulating inside his brilliant mind as he watched you head towards the door to the right of the dinner table. You gave him a small, coy smile and bid him a silent goodbye, wandering to the dungeons.

As you were walking in the direction of where Snape lurked, you got those same doubts again, wondering whether he would actually appreciate this act, or be appalled by it. You hoped it'd be the former, but you weren't very confident in that. Swallowing the bubbling anxiety in the back of your throat, you pressed on down the corridors, finding that familiar spiral staircase. You cautiously walked down it, a little wobbly from balancing the plate of hot food and also from drinking that goblet of wine in one go - you weren't a common drinker so in hindsight you probably should have thought that silly idea through a little more. As you reached the bottom of the staircase, you saw that same warm, amber hue of candlelight flooding out from underneath the door of Snape's office. Your heart began to pound in your ears as you neared his door; knees trembling a little bit.

You knocked on his door with your free hand and waited patiently for a reply.

"Come in." Severus said, sighing. You could sense the muted irritation in his tone, your fingers reaching reluctantly for his doorknob. You grasped it and turned it and opened the door. As you sauntered in, Severus didn't bother to look up, his eyes and nose still buried in what looked to be more… assignments. Does the man never give himself time to relax?

"Hi." You squeaked out awkwardly, leaning back against his door, the plate of food still held carefully in your hands. Severus's head shot up almost instantly at the sound of your voice, his brows furrowing together in what you hoped to be confusion rather than annoyance. "Erm, I brought you some food."

"I'm not hungry." Severus protested with a grunt, looking back down to the assignment in his hand. He must be lying, since you don't recall seeing him at breakfast, nor lunch.

"When did you last eat, Severus?" You asked, shuffling in your spot, attempting to hide the caring tone that accidentally slipped from your lips with a pathetic cough. Snape's brows furrowed deeper, a dark crease forming between them.

"What do you want, Y/N?" Severus groaned, his eyes glued to his desk still. You cleared your throat, demanding his full attention. A deep, exasperated sigh left his lips as he reluctantly tore his eyes away from his work, meeting your concerned ones. "Why does it matter when I last ate?"

"Because human beings need to eat." You arched a brow at him. He didn't seem to appreciate the tone you took with him. "I'm not a normal human being, Y/N." He blinked at you.

"Normal or not, you still need some sort of sustenance." You said matter-of-factly, tilting your head at him, silently ending the debate between you two. You padded towards his desk, pulling up a chair from the side of the room at the same time. You were definitely sure that the wine was encouraging your boldness, you even noticed the slight surprise in Snape's eyes as he continued to stare at you. "Will you eat, please?" You asked with a soft sigh, plopping yourself down in the wooden chair with a muted thud. You held the plate of food out in front of you, almost shoving it in Severus's face. His lips twisted for a quick moment, thinking.

"If it means you leave faster, then yes." His eyes narrowed at you like blunt daggers. The hostility was there, but it wasn't intended to be hurtful. Severus hesitantly took the plate from your hands, and slid the assignments out of the way on his desk, sitting the plate down in the middle.

"Oh!" You exclaimed softly, glancing at your dirty cutlery. "I almost forgot. Scourgify." You pulled out your wand and flicked it at the silverware, watching happily as the muck and grime dissipated from it like ice melting under the sun. Severus looked at you with suspicious eyes, scrutinising you, attempting to comprehend why you had paid him of all people a visit. "How come you left so early?" You queried, sitting back in your chair with your hands in your lap.

"Dinner parties aren't my forte." He replied, spiking a piece of turkey breast with the fork. A small smile painted your lips as you watched him place it in his mouth, his eyes lighting up ever so slightly at the divine taste that painted his tongue. "Perhaps I was mistaken…" He mumbled, glancing down at the plate of turkey, potatoes and green veggies, looking rather awestruck due to the glorious taste that was exploding in his mouth as of right now.

A proud smile slipped onto your lips as you looked away from Severus for a moment, letting your eyes wander around his dimly lit, and rather glum looking office. The bricks were a dark, worn black, with a beige cement sitting between them. He had shelves upon shelves of books, about everything you could ever imagine. Name it, and it's most likely there. So, he was a book nerd, you thought, smiling to yourself. Then, your eyes fell on the most beautiful record player you'd ever seen. Obviously, it was all black to match the whole aesthetic of Snape's office. It sat prettily upon a table in the corner, a small collection of well-kept records were leant up against it.

"You listen to music?" You questioned, a dry laugh escaping your lips as you stood up, drawn to the beautiful object.

"Why is that a surprise?" Snape asked, a little offended that you were shocked by such a revelation.

"Well, you don't exactly give me a music enthusiast vibe," You chuckled softly, glancing at Severus with glossy eyes. The wine had gone to your head slightly. "I can't imagine you listening to music." You added, allowing your chuckle to burst into a soft, hushed laugh. Severus rolled his eyes at you and turned back to his desk, shovelling another mouthful of turkey into his mouth, picking up an assignment with his other hand.

You turned your attention back to the record player and let your fingers trace the beautiful grains and grooves of the wood, the pads of your index and middle finger ending up on his record collection. You let your nosiness kick in as you flicked through them, spotting some seventies rock bands, classical compilations, and… Frank Sinatra?

"Frank Sinatra?" You queried with a curious, amused smile, glancing at Severus over your shoulder. Butterflies exploded like storm in your stomach when you found him already staring at you, though the look on his face wasn't what you wanted. He looked a little miffed. "I like Frank Sinatra." You quickly added, wanting to avoid any sort of conflict. You glanced back to where your fingers where dipping into his record collection, a furious pink blush tinting your pale cheeks. As you slipped your hand away, the end of your finger caught the play button, and suddenly the room was filled with a dark, melancholic and slow rock song. Your eyes widened in panic as you tried frantically to turn it off, however, nothing was working.

"Leave it, I… like it." Came a voice from behind you, immediately halting you in your desperate, albeit poor attempts to pause it. Severus was still sat at his desk, but he was sat back now, a little more relaxed.

"It's nice," you commented quietly, after a beat of silence, braving a look at Severus. His eyes were glued to his desk, the plate of turkey and vegetables pushed messily to the side. He seemed to be battling something. You swallowed thickly and sauntered over to him, your heels clacking against the brick floor. You stopped in front of him and held out your hand. "…Dance with me?" You asked, voice still quiet. The Potions Master looked up at you for several seconds, his harsh, dark eyes flicking to your open palm. Your heart was thumping so loud in your ears you were worried you wouldn't hear his answer.

Luckily for you, he didn't give you one. He just plainly accepted your hand, standing slowly, almost reluctantly. You backed away from his desk, one step at a time, his large, calloused and cold hand still in yours. You stopped in the middle of the room, gently pulling Severus closer to you. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked up to meet his cold gaze, placing his other hand on your hip. You began to sway side to side to the slow beat of the song, his fingers flinching slightly as you moved. Severus found himself lost in your eyes as you stared up at him. He wondered why someone like you had offered to dance with someone like him; it felt wrong almost, a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin, good and bad. As the chorus got going, a bright grin broke out on your face as Severus lifted his arm up to twirl you around, the skirt of your dress blooming outwards like a flower. His chest tightened as you stumbled slightly, your hand slipping onto his chest to steady yourself.

"Sorry." you muttered almost inaudibly, looking up at Snape through your lashes bashfully. He didn't reply, he only danced with you more, and you saw his the corner of his lips quirk up in a small, almost miniscule smile. Your heart fluttered at the sight and your smile was back on your face.

The two of you continued to dance carelessly to the song playing in the background, and any worries and anxieties had been long forgotten ever since the two of you touched palms. You found yourself getting lost in his eyes as Severus twirled you around again, a loud laugh leaving your lips as he brought you back towards him, his eyes half-lidded with admiration. You lifted your hand up this time and attempted to twirl Snape around. He almost fought against it, but the sad pout on your lips ultimately broke him, and so he let you twirl him around.

Severus didn't know what he was feeling as his hands found your waist, his stomach was in knots and his chest was tingly, it wasn't normal, and it worried him slightly. But his buzzing, worrisome thoughts were soon calmed the moment his dark, troubled eyes met with your bright, carefree ones. The sound of your laugh made him feel things he hadn't felt in years, and your beaming, gleeful grin sent shivers down his cruel spine. It felt so wrong, but it felt so right having you in his arms; having you this close to him. A few months ago, he wouldn't have dared to dream of feeling so… vulnerable. And with a Hufflepuff no less. Snape had always despised them, he'd believed them to be the weakest house, but your utter resilient yet soft nature had totally swayed him. He'd be lying if he said your beauty hadn't completely captured his attention too, though he would never ever admit that.

You reminded him slightly of Lily, and that's what frightened him. He let himself fall in love once, and he wasn't sure he was going to let himself do it again. Actually, he was adamant. He couldn't bear to deal with that pain again, it almost killed him. He wouldn't be able to stomach seeing you lifeless on the floor, your eyes dead and lifeless. Your life was not worth risking for his sake of happiness. Suddenly, Severus switched emotions like the speed of sound. He immediately released you from his grasp, you grin and laughter silencing immediately. It felt like someone had stabbed him in the heart the second your laughter ceased.

"Get out." He said coldly, pushing you backwards. Your brows furrowed at his words, confusion painting your face.

"…What?" You blinked at him, trying to comprehend what he'd just said.

"I said get out." Snape seethed. His tone was angry, relentless, cruel, uncaring. Before, it felt like you'd just opened another door with him, inviting you into his world, and then you'd been kicked out and sent to a different one.

"But… Severus…" You swallowed thickly, your throat tightening as tears began to burn your eyes. Was it something you said? Something you did?

Little did you know, it was something you did. You'd made him happy, you'd made him feel human again. After so long of shutting off his feelings and building a fortress around his emotions, encasing them in metres and metres of thick, impenetrable concrete, you'd broken through so easily, and it terrified him. His mind instantly shut off, almost like a defence mechanism the moment it felt anything other than hatred or resentment for another person.

Gods, it fucking hurt to see you cry because of him, but he couldn't show it, he refused to let you get hurt, or worse, killed because of his own selfish thoughts. And so he turned his back on you, his black cloak acting like a shield as he leant against his desk with white knuckles.

It felt like everything you'd done to get to know Severus had just been broken down a million times and thrown back in your face. It felt like… betrayal, almost, but you weren't sure why.

Hot tears were streaming down your face now as you stared at his back. He's shut you out. That's it, all those days, months you spent trying to get to know him went to waste. You sucked in a shaky breath and turned around, rushing to the door. You hesitated for moment, glancing over your shoulder. You'd hoped he might've changed his mind, but Snape still had his back turned to you, his head dropped in front of him. A strangled cry left your throat uncontrollably as you stomped angrily out of his office, wiping away your tears with harsh fingers as you stormed back to your quarters. Thank Merlin it was Christmas break now. Perhaps it was for the best.

part 6

ok pls dont hate me for the end lmaooo i just couldnt help myself LOL </3

let me know if you enjoyed this chapter, the next movie i'll focus on is prisoner of azkaban aka my favourite hehe, however that wont be for another few chapters i think. another update wont be due until tuesday or wednesday <3

thank you for all your support i honestly dont deserve it :') <33

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[jkslipppiercing]

Bumblebee 02 | jjk

• summary: Jeon Jungkook was your high school bully. What are you gonna do when your parents are forcing you to marry him as the country's most well-known CEO?

• pairing: ceo!jk x reader, high school bully!jk, sassy!jk, cocky!jk.

• genre: enemies to lovers, slowburn, high school bully to lover, arranged marriage, CEO/billionare romance, marriage of convenience.

• warnings: explicit language, mentions of sex, sad feels.

• WC: 3.5k

• a/n: surprise! was planning to make this a longer chapter, but the ideas kept kicking in, so in order for me to keep a somewhat stable storyline i'm forced to include multiple shorter chaps :). happy reading!

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index

previous/next

“Are you really going to sit back and relax while I load all of this in?” You plaster a poker face then glare disapprovingly at Jungkook, who glances at you dismissively.

He has his feet propped up on his coffee table, leaning back on his couch. He appears to be effortless with everything he does- his clothing, his actions, his features- it’s quite annoying, what he’s doing. You’d dwell on him for longer had his voice not interrupted your daydreaming.

“If you wanted me to help, you should’ve asked.” He stands up and walks towards you. He’s wearing something so simple, looking so to die for. Your sanity withers to ashes whenever you’re with him; he just never ceases to surprise you by the passing second.

By the looks of it, you’re not going to survive seeing him every day. Well, now that you’re moving in with him. When he mentioned that to be happening the other day- by the other day, as in, the night before- you thought he was just suggesting it, or, who knows, seeing what your opinion will be on the topic. You didn’t know you would move into the billionaire’s mansion in- then- less than twenty-four hours.

Speaking of the night before, you couldn’t fall asleep. You were attracted to Jungkook, but you refused to admit it. Considering he taught you a lesson to “Use your words”, he must be attracted to you as well, no? Your cheeks start flushing a deep shade of blood red just thinking about it, and Jungkook notices.

He comes closer to you, his nose almost touching yours. Has he never heard of “personal space”?You think. Jungkook traps his lower lip between his teeth, immediately grabbing your attention. Your eyes fixate on the movement, his only paying attention to yours. “May I?” He breathes. You close your eyes and clutch the box in your hands tighter, overwhelmed by his presence. Just when you expect soft pillows of lips to rest on yours, his hands cover your own as he takes ahold of the box and cold air replaces his proximity. As soon as you come to your senses and realize what the bastard has done, your face contorts to form an unfazed poker face, appearing to be unaffected as you slowly clap for him.; “Well played, Jeon, well played.”

Jungkook sets the box aside as he brushes you off. “You know; we didn’t really get to talk yesterday.” He leans on the corner of the living room couch, “I think we should at least agree on some things.”

“All right, well, I’m listening.” You sit on the couch, sit back and relax. He joins you soon after, heaving a sigh before he carries on, “Considering you’ve moved in already, we’re off to a great start.” He signals at the unpacked boxes scattered across his living room floor.

You hum in agreement and stare at him blankly.

“Next thing on the list is our engagement.” He looks at you. That’s right. “We’re getting married in about six months, so I think we should use the engagement as a chance to get to know each other better, and possibly try to get along. You’re a bride-to-be and my future wife after all.” Never in a million years have you ever thought you’d be where you are now, sitting with the man in front of you, talking to him about marrying him. Of all the things in the world, you would’ve done whatever you were asked to do instead of marrying Jungkook. Although this marriage is anything but what you want, you know for a fact you have to do it to save your father’s- soon to be yours and Jungkook’s- company.

“When is it happening? Does anybody know yet?” You question. You have a thousand questions going through your mind right now, but you should start it off easy.

“Well, if anybody should know, it’s us. From now on, all’s on us. Everyone around you and I will try to assist with whatever they could, but majorly, we have to plan everything together.” Jungkook scrunches his brows in thought as he looks at you expectantly as you nod in agreement. “Did you have anything in mind?”

“I haven’t thought about this until now, since it wasn’t brought to my attention and no one mentioned it to me before…” You start. It’s true, the engagement wasn’t of your concern until just a few minutes ago, but you’ve always been quick-witted. “I have something in mind.” Your eyes twinkle with the same sparkle that appears within them whenever you’re excited about something.

Jungkook’s interest lights up on his face as his eyes round further when he stares at you. “Already?” He asks, and when you nod your head frantically at him, he chuckles under his breath. “You’re adorable.” He says, only loud enough you could barely hear him. When you do, your eyes darken, the sparkle now long gone but replaced with a much more mischievous- rather seductive- glint.

You straighten your posture, now fixating your full focus on Jungkook. He’s manspreading in his full glory, staring at you in confusion. He must’ve noticed your change in mood- and intentions- because his confusion dissipates as he plasters a lazy smile on his face. He now stares at you intensely, patiently waiting for your next move. You place your hand in the space between his widely spread thighs as you turn to him. You raise the other hand to the back of his head as you play with his hair. You pout at him pitifully, “I’m far from ‘adorable’, love.” Your hand comes to rest on his cheek, your thumb toying with his lower lip, admiring the little mole that occupies the space under it. You then trace your finger from his lip, down toward his neck, descending to his chest as you come closer to his neck to breathe his manly scent in. “You just haven’t gotten to experience the other side, yet.” Jungkook’s breath shallows as your index finger begins to trace his abs, stopping just above the button of his pants. You look up at him to be met with hooded lids and an open mouth. Puffs of his breath hit your face as he barely manages to control his breathing- and just when you realize how well of a job you’ve done, you abruptly pull away and say; “We’re going on a fake date.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen both at what you did and said. He was never this affected by women, so he chose to ignore it and consider it payback for what he always does to you- pushes you to your limit, then leaves you to deal with the aftermath of being extremely horny. Well, you did such a good job that you gave Jungkook blue balls. He’s so extremely turned on by your mere touch that his cock is constricting his pants so hard that it’s painful. He doesn’t remember ever feeling this way ever since his high school days when you were the only person he jacked off to in the shower.

The poor man seated beside you poorly attempts to straighten his posture and regulate his breathing, only failing miserably. Your effect on him was greater than he thought it would be, and that, to him, is majorly unsettling. Jungkook has a playboy history- sleeping around with women, and only distancing himself when he feels he got too close, or crossed a boundary of some sort. Ever since he took over his agency and gained massive popularity as a young, insanely handsome, and wealthy CEO, he vowed to never trust anyone easily; especially women who sleep around for money.

He tries to redirect his focus back to the current topic, “Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind?”

You clear your head as you scramble to fully face him on the couch, sitting crisscross-applesauce and starting to ramble off the ideas overflowing in your head. “Well, since your popularity status is very high, I doubt no one will notice us if we went out on a date in public.” He smirks smugly, seemingly proud about being as popular as he is. “I was thinking a public date, something domestic and not too fancy. We have to be somewhere highly visited, where the paparazzi can snap clear pictures of us.”

You can see the gears in Jungkook’s head turn, “Oh…I see where you’re going with this…go on.” He waits for you.

“What better way can we go? Once the paparazzi takes photos of us and the hot-shot billionaire is known to be dating a CEO’s daughter, everyone will be curious about it. We let the rumors go around for a bit longer than usual by keeping the people on their toes and increasing the publicity rates; just when everything starts to get out of hand, we hold a press conference where you and I answer questions and set the date of the engagement.” You stare at Jungkook, proud of the plan. It seems pretty easy- going out with Jungkook for a couple hours- shouldn’t be that hard, right?

Jungkook leans back as he thinks your plan through. “Pretty solid. For the date, there’s this ‘celebrities only’ club that I know of. We can go there, since it’s always swarmed by paparazzi 24/7.”

“Taking me to a club on a first date, Jeon?” You tease, plastering a playful smile as you lean forward. Jungkook surprises you by leaning closer into you, “I’m not the type of guy to take you on dates of having picnics, eating ice-cream, and playing tourists, sweetheart.” He smirks.

You catch onto the implication earlier than you would’ve liked to. Does that mean he fucks hard, then? Would he slap your face and spank your ass when he pounds so hard into you, you see stars? That took a turn, fast.

“Too bad, might leave you for another man…” Your nose nudges him as you let out a breathy chuckle. “Careful on those words, Jeon.” You look away.

He grabs your chin just when he enters your private space further more, “Or what?” His eyes darken.

Your eyes travel to his lips as you look up into them again. A charge of electricity sparks in between the mere inches separating the two of you. Jungkook bites his lip- mostly toying with his lip piercings- and just then and there, you’d give up the world to have a taste.

Ding Dong!

You jump on the couch, Jungkook reciprocating the action when he clears his throat louder than intended, having you coughing awkwardly.

You break the silence first, “You…uh…you waiting for someone?” You avoid his eyes and stare at the wall like it’s the most intriguing creature you’ve ever encountered.

You hear him stand up as he heads for the front door, “Yeah, I ordered takeout. Figured you’d be hungry after a long, tiring day of moving.” He snickers.

Well yeah…you are hungry, just for something else though. Holy hell. Living with this man is going to be one damn hell of a challenge.

You struggle to find your voice, still stuck on the earlier daze. “That was quite thoughtful of you.” You smile. “Thank you.”

Jungkook answers the delivery man short after, coming back into the living room with two large boxes of pizza.

“God, I’m starving.” You groan. “This smells amazing. Thanks again, bab-” You cut yourself off when you realize what you were going to say.

Jungkook’s eyes widen a fraction of an inch before he quickly covers it up, appearing unbothered.

The nickname slipped, it wasn’t intended. You weren’t paying attention to what you were saying, so you let it go. Will he, though?

“Bumblebee. That was 100% what I was going to say.” You avoid his gaze once again when you feel his eyes boring into your soul.

“It’s fine, sweetheart. You can call me whatever you want.” He says absent-mindedly, not focusing on the fact that he offered you a huge opportunity, which you gladly take. “Can I call you d-”

“Daddy? Yes.” He smirks in victory when he sees your cheeks burn. You’re flustered. Little does he know though…”You’re getting ahead of yourself. What I was going to ask was if I can call you dickwad.” You snort.

Jungkook’s eyes sharpen as he glares daggers at you. You won this time. He knows it. He stays silent.

You swat his arm in amusement. “Lighten up, grumpy pants.” You laugh at him, your eyes crinkling into crescent moons, your dimples making their grand appearance for the first time to Jungkook. Jungkook can’t help but marvel at your shrugging shoulders as you laugh. You don’t just laugh and make sounds, your entire body shakes as you give the action your all, affecting the others around you, making him laugh as well. You’re just so- surprising.

“Yeah! That’s it, big boy. Turns out you know how to laugh as well! Didn’t know you had it in you!” He laughs harder now, leaning back on the couch, slanting his head on the headrest, all the while his eyes never leaving you.

You stifle a yawn, your features betraying you. Your exhaustion is more than prominent now, making you look like a walking dead corpse. With all the fatigue from the earlier moving process and your full stomach now satisfied by the pizza you just ate, your body is giving up on you. Your energy is gone.

Jungkook notices your state, briefly glancing at you at the perfect time to see you stretch. He gets up, signaling for you to come and follow him up the stairs of his house. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

You scramble to get up, then follow him.

Jungkook stops in front of a plain white door. “Y/N, I only recently moved in to this house…about two months ago.” He hesitates. You scrunch your brows in confusion. Is he nervous? Your thoughts prove to be true when Jungkook stutters as he speaks, “I’ve only one room furnished other than the living room, office, and basement,” He takes a breath. Basement? Why would the basement be one of the few furnished rooms? Weird. “Well, you moving in was not as planned as I would’ve liked it to be, so-”

You cut him off as you open the door wide open and step into the room. Oh. That’s what he was so desperately trying to explain.

Before you is a king sized bed. A singular king sized bed.

“You’re sleeping on the couch.” Jungkook says. I’m sorry, what?

He should at least try to be a gentleman and offer to sleep on the couch, but instead, he’s ordering you to do so. What an asshole.

You grab a pillow off of the bed, throw it at him, then open his closet to pick up one of the folded blankets in it. You mirror your actions and throw the blanket at him as well, smiling sweetly, “Too bad, pretty boy. I've already claimed this bed to be mine.” You plop on the edge of the bed.

Jungkook is too tired to argue, simply accepting the harsh reality and exiting the room. He closes the door of his room with a thud, leaving you to sleep.

Saying you’re surprised at the action is an understatement, expecting Jungkook to put up a fight and throw a tantrum. He does neither, which takes you by surprise.

Nevertheless, you change our of your uncomfortable jeans and shirt, picking up a random hoodie from Jungkook’s closet which comes to rest at your mid-thighs. You tale your bra off- an action you’re used to doing, as it became a more comfortable habit of yours- and put your hair up in a messy bun. You blissfully slip into the sheets of the cozy bed and snuggle up into the fluffy pillows, Jungkook’s scent filling your nostrils. You’ve grown to like the smell, giving you a sense of familiarity and security, and so, you snuggle closer into the essence, slowly slipping into an exhausted state.

●●●

You wake up to an unusual sound. Sniffling. Is someone crying in here? But…you’re alone- holy shit. You’re alone.

You start panicking before you come to realize Jungkook is in the bed with you. The sense of familiar warmth and security quickly washes over your nerves, calming you down.

The earlier panic slowly creeps up on you when the sniffling grows louder by the passing second. You were sleeping with your back to Jungkook, his to yours. He must’ve waited until you fell asleep so he could easily slip into bed without hearing you complain. You can’t even complain, knowing you’d sound like a brat because the bed would easily fit you both- maybe even 5 more people.

You’re brought back to the situation when Jungkook’s shoulders start trembling. You’re fully focused on him now, worry masked over you. ‘Do something!’ Your mind screams at you. You should, you just don’t know what to do. You always panicked when it came to these types of situations. Normally, when a person was crying, you’d cry with them, not knowing a better way to comfort them.

Jungkook’s trembling turns into spasming whereas the sniffling turns into harsh and labored breathing. Your hands itch while you think about what to do. Finally coming to find the most appropriate thing to do, you try your best to turn Jungkook around so he’s facing you. After attempting to do so without waking him up, his crying gets worse until it turns into choked sobs. Jungkook finally faces you, and all you can do is stare when he curls in on himself, forming his body into a ball as he cries his heart out. You instinctively reach out to him, unfurling his hands away from his face as you bring them around your waist. You're lying next to him, trying your best to get closer to him to calm him down. His arms circle around waist as he shifts closer to you, his head bent into your chest, rendering you unable to look at him. His sobbing only gets worse from there, getting louder and louder. One of your hands entangles in his hair while the other rubs his back in a poor attempt of calming him down. You were never one to mumble reassurances to people in the very state jungkook is in now, knowing it won’t do them any good. Why would you feed them lies only for the future to solely prove you wrong? ‘It’s going to be okay’? When did it actually turn out that way?

“Please.” Jungkook tries. He’s trying to say something, but his constant weeping has caused him to hiccup whenever he tries to speak, as he’s unable to take a deep breath. Your breath gets caught up in your throat, struggling to steady your breathing.

“Please, don’t go.” He tries again, hiccuping furiously. You barely catch onto what he’s trying to say, trying your best to force the rivers of tears back in. “Please, don’t leave-” You give him time, staying silent. You’re trying to convince yourself it was nothing more than just a bad dream- a nightmare- but you know for a fact there’s more to it. Scars, trauma, veiled secrets never willed to be shared. Which is why when Jungkook tries again, you can only listen.

“Th-they all leave me.” You can hear your heart crack. “Please don’t go, just like she did. ” Now, a crack so loud it makes your ears bleed.

Jungkook never told you about his family background himself, you only ever heard snippets, rumors that traveled between way too many people to be considered true anymore. You’ve yet to hear the personal explanation from the man who experienced it himself, for you never intended to. You never pried, nor did he ever initiate the will to do so. After this though, you’re not sure if you can keep ignoring the matter.

“They all j-just- left me.” He quiets down in a bit, his hiccups still persistent. The loud pleading sobs are now quieted into soft sniffles as you can feel Jungkook cling onto your shirt for dear life. His hands still clutch your waist tightly, as his head rests on your chest, just above your breasts. You keep playing with the soft locks of his hair and massage his scalp, occasionally humming when he keeps muttering small pleads. Just when you deem him asleep, your movements on his head cease. You hear a small grunting noise laced with disagreement before Jungkook speaks, sounding somewhat awake. “Y/N.” Your breath runs short. “Don’t stop.” His voice has a raspy edge to it, sounding tired and scratchy from all the crying he's done. You obey, your fingers interlocking with the waves adorning his scalp yet again, soft hums of approval sounding from his chest. The least you can do is be there for him, knowing that what he’s going through indeed has a long explanation behind it.

You fall asleep shortly after, yours and Jungkook’s breath mingling together in the deafening silence. Whatever the ache Jungkook seems to be suffering so much from, you want to share. You want to share it with him, even if just a tiny part of it. You want to take the burdens mounted on his shoulders and kiss him better. You want him to be happy. You want to help in every way possible.

The only question is; will he let you?

next

@hoseokteardrop @nays2112 @jksoftii

[mayasaura]

sorry if this has been answered before or if there's a post about this, but I've been seeing a lot of posts labeling harrow as schizophrenic and/or having trouble recognizing reality, including the one you just made about crux as harrow's caretaker and reality-indicator.

I realize that these interpretations come from htn, but I'm curious as why people feel that it's always been a trait of harrow's instead of a side effect of the lobotomy?

I was under the impression that she created the reality problems as an excuse to cover the blocks in her memory, especially since we know that wake/the sleeper didn't possess her until after gtn and most of her confusion happens in the river bubble.

even the "hallucinations" of the body don't really impact her perception of reality, and it's actually alecto's soul not a real hallucination. the only questionable moment I can remember is when she sees cytheria under the bed and ianthe says there's nothing there, but we know ianthe is a duplicitous legend so I read it as ianthe lying to harrow lol

long story short, I was wondering if there was scenes in gtn, ntn, or post-realization htn that indicate harrow has had these reality problems pre-lobotomy? or if you know of a post analyzing it further? sorry to throw this at you, I just haven't seen any analysis of it but I saw your post so I was hoping you would have more info :) I really adore all of your tlt analysis posts!

Hi! Yeah, if you go into my '#harrow's schizophrenia' tag, I've made several posts about it, and other people have added on to a few of them with further elaboration.

But I don't think I've ever laid it out fully like a thesis. And I have several stressful things I should be doing right now, so I can't think of a better time to get into it.

When Harrow's brain is editing Gideon out, there's an effect a little like a record skip. Her memory snags on something, very briefly, and then quickly moves on. Or she'll make an assumption or say something that doesn't actually make sense without Gideon in the picture, but she won't notice. The most prominent example is the details in chapter 3 surrounding her opening of the Tomb:

Just ellipsis "found out" ellipsis to skim over the very large part Gideon had to play in those events. If she were to interrogate the memory, it would be strange that she doesn't remember how her parents found out, but doing so would make her brain bleed. She would black out, and most likely forget what she was trying to remember.

And an example from the same chapter of a statement that doesn't make sense, unless you know about Gideon:

Two things are important about these examples, the first being that they don't upset Harrow. She doesn't think they're strange, because she barely thinks about them, which was sort of the point of the lobotomy in the first place. The second is that they can be immediately explained by plugging Gideon into the Gideon-shaped hole in Harrow's memory. If you know about Gideon, and what Harrow's done, there's no mystery remaining.

In contrast, there are other details in chapter 3 about Harrow's childhood that Harrow did, and does, find strange and upsetting.

Gideon didn't attend services, and she most definitely didn't participate in chants. Putting Gideon back in the picture does nothing to explain the "weird, thuddering beat" Harrow finds disruptive. But it does sound an awful lot like an auditory hallucination, as does hearing doors open and close where no doors were opening and closing.

Maybe we could try to explain the doors by supposing she was hearing Gideon coming and going without remembering the source, but that doesn't really track with how we know her mind processes the missing pieces. If Harrow were papering Gideon over in her memory, it wouldn't be important who was or wasn't opening doors and where. The focus of her memory would quickly shift, just like it did when trying to remember how her parents found out about the Tomb, in order to avoid looking at what she's hidden from herself.

Then there's the next paragraph:

Again, plugging Gideon into this memory does nothing to explain it. Even if Gideon had been in the habit of sneaking up behind Harrow and attempting to choke her out—which, yikes—Harrow has already seamlessly blocked out the memory of one attempted strangulation. Then there are the phantom ropes she sees, her parents' method of suicide haunting her.

The forgetting where she was, losing time, and false memories do seem at first glance like they could be explained by the lobotomy, seeing as that is sort of the whole purpose and effect. But I'm pretty sure even these are real memories. Again, because of the focus of her attention. She's remembering having forgotten, while the lobotomy make her forget to remember.

Then there's Harrow's overall behavior. Her reactions to her hallucinations, especially in the River bubble, which imply that not all of this is new to her. She isn't shocked, or caught off-guard. She has coping mechanisms. She's figured out what evidence she can probably rely on to rule out hallucinations, and what's more likely to be suspect. A lobotomy, even a necromantic lobotomy, doesn't come with built-in tools for coping with its effects. Her memory of her past without Gideon in it is fractured and incomplete, not an entirely new life story with new life lessons.

Finally, from Nona the Ninth, some evidence that Harrow's problems with reality definitely predate the lobotomy:

Crux remembers them.

[auteurdelabre]

A little Sun part 3.2

part one / part two / part 2.1

rating: 18+ (MINORS GET OUTTA HERE OR I'M TELLIN' YOUR MAMAS)

Story Summary: As a PA to megastar and mega man-child Dieter Bravo you've had your fair share of headaches. Getting accidentally pregnant with his baby however takes the cake, especially when he offers to pay you to be his surrogate. You just weren't expecting to fall in love with him along the way.

tags: Surrogacy, Pregnancy, Body changes re: pregnancy, Mutual Pining, Idiots in love, P in V, Dirty talk, Unprotected Sex, Romance, Oral (f receiving), Cigarettes, Drugs, Mentions of Parental Death, Vulnerable Dieter, Vulnerable Reader.

a/n: y'all I'm really annoyed because tumblr won't let me post the entire chapter in one post because of whatever reason. So if you wanna read it all in one go, I'm posting it to my A03 or just click the parts above.

dividers by @silkholland

Most days if you’re distracted you can forget that you’re pregnant altogether. That is, until Dieter comes home with a strange food from set that makes you run to the bathroom to vomit. Or when you try to fit into your favorite CCR t-shirt and break down into tears when it won’t go over your now fairly swollen belly.

Dieter is gone for the night tonight; he and Mia are at some fundraiser for one of the folks on set’s hospital bills. You know that Dieter will end up paying whatever the guy needs; it’s just in his character. He’s brash and annoying and childish, but Dieter is always the first person to pay for something.  Magda needed surgery for her cataracts and Dieter paid for everything, plus a month long vacation so she could relax.

And here you sit on your sofa because you feel like you’re carrying a watermelon strapped to your stomach and you feel like shit. The only good thing is your hair looks amazing; silky and shiny and beautiful.

You decide a bath might be just the thing to turn your mood around.

You’re just settling into the large claw foot tub, bubbles up to your collar and closing your eyes when the door bursts open.

“Hey I need advice.”

You immediately start, almost splashing half the water out of the tub in the process. You cover your breasts with your arms, shooting your uninvited guest a glare.

"Dieter I'm having a bath!"

"Nothing I haven't seen before," he says with a shrug before sitting next to the claw foot tub. He brings his knees to his chest before he crosses his ankles. "I want your advice."

"My advice is you get the fuck out of here."

"I can't see anything from here," he tells you with a pout. "But if it makes you feel better I'll turn around."

You watch him shuffle until his spine is kissing the side of the tub. You peek over to see his hands are nowhere near his cock and you relax back. 

"Better?"

"What advice do you want Dieter?" You sigh, accepting that this relaxing bath will be anything but. 

"It's Mia."

"Mhmm?"

"I...I really like her."

"She's very likable."

"She is, isn't she?" 

From where you lay all you can see is the back of Dieters head, his full locks shifting as you imagine he smiles. 

"So what do you want my advice on? If its relationship advice you're out of luck," you laugh humorlessly. "I've never had a relationship that lasted more than a year."

"Me neither," Dieter says, head tilting to the side. 

You ponder on this for a moment. How two people with such opposing walks of life could end up similarly situated in terms of romance. You know why Dieter gives people at a distance, concern that they're only after him for his money or his fame. Concerned that they're only after him for some cache at stardom. 

But in all this time, you've never taken the time to reflect on why you yourself shy from intimacy. On why school and working eat up so much of your time and your thoughts.

As you sit here now, stomach's swollen with child you're forced to accept the fact that perhaps you haven't just been shying from intimacy. You might have been running away from it full tilt. 

Will your child be like this? Have you created a life in you and capable of finding lasting connection with another human being? Have you already saddled this child with a fate of loneliness? Guilt, this terrible guilt suddenly overtakes you. 

You want to talk to Dieter about it, you want to question him and see if he has the same fears. But his thoughts are (as they so often are) frenzied and landing in an area of pleasure. His thoughts are of Mia, of her sweet face and even sweeter personality. He thinks of how she makes him feel, like he's capable of anything. 

 "I'm just.... I wonder if I should tell Mia about the baby."

You feel your heart skip in your chest and your fingers creep along the edge of the tub before curling.

"Why would you do that?"

Dieter shrugs. "Things feel like they could get serious."

"You haven't known her very long, Dieter."

"So?"

"So I think you want to play house with a girl that has stars in her eyes.”

You see his shoulders tense. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"She's a beautiful young woman at the start of her career," you sigh, popping some of the nearby bubbles. "Being attached to a single dad right now isn’t fair." 

Dieter straightens at this. Single dad. He never really thought of himself like that. The concept makes him wince. He thinks of the nights here when you're busy or sleeping. The nights when his bed feels colder. 

"I'm tired of being alone okay?"

"That's a shitty reason to do that to someone," you bite back. "Mia has her own life, her own career."

"She can still have that-"

"Not when she's playing Mrs. Bravo," you tell him, cheeks heating from the water and your irritation. "You think the media isn't going to be all over this? Hollywood’s Good Girl caught up with Hollywood’s Bad Boy? You think her career won't be in jeopardy when the tabloids find out she’s fallen into bed with her costar?"

Dieter goes quiet. You wish you could see his eyes. His eyes never lie.

"I think you're doing this because you finally realized the giant undertaking it is to be a parent,” you say softly. “I think you're hoping that somehow she'll be your partner in all of this and help ease your load. But this was your decision, not hers. You wanted to be a dad. You wanted to have this kid."

“I know I did!” Dieter snarls and now he whirls around to face you. “And I can do it by myself!”

“Then why-“

“Is it so wrong to want someone else? Someone who wants me?”

Before you can answer he’s pushed himself from beside the tub and gone from the room, slamming the door behind him. The force of it knocks one of the paintings from the wall, denting the wood frame of it.  You sigh and lean back in your tub, wishing you could understand the pit that’s begun in your stomach.

You find it impossible to fall asleep later that night, not just because of the horrible way you ended things with Dieter, but because he’s been blasting his music all fucking night from his art room.  He’s been in there since he left you in the bathroom, the scent of cigarettes and what you assume is one of his fancy whisky bottles seeping from under the door.

You eventually manage to catch a few hours of sleep but are awoken to a loud thump from the art room and Dieter’s muffled fuck this! The music is still going full tilt and this sends you into a fit of pique.

You manage to roll yourself out of bed with a huff before you march down the hallway and push into the studio, flinching when Dieter screams over the music at you before you've even made it past the threshold. 

"You're supposed to knock!"

Since when?

He looks crazed. His hair is even more wild and unruly than usual, his t-shirt is covered in paint. You glance around to see the entire room is littered with papers, charcoal, pencils, paint tubes and more. It's like an art store exploded all over the room. He's standing behind an easel, his body blocked mostly by the large canvas he’s working on.

He moves to the door, quickly ushering you backwards out of the room before you can see what he's working on that has him so upset. 

"Dieter what the hell-"

"That's my private sanctum," he tells you, pulling the cigarette from between his lips, blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth as he glares at you. "You stay out."

"Sorry sorry," you say rolling your eyes at his hysterics. "I'm just trying to sleep and your music is so loud."

He blinks as if only realizing now that the sun has gone down. He scratches at his chest absently, eyes drawing to the darkened windows. 

"What time is it?"

"Three in the morning. Don't you have work in a couple of hours?"

Dieter has a faraway look to his eyes and he finally nods. "Yeah, yeah I do. I should sleep."

He makes no move to leave the doorway. You roll your eyes before holding out your hand to him. Instinctively he moves forward taking it. 

"C'mon Bravo. Let's get you to bed."

Hand in hand you make your way to the hallway, guiding him through the grainy darkness that your eyes are more adjusted too. You stop in front of his room, dropping his hand gently and turning away, ready to pad to your own bedroom down the hall. 

"Will you sleep in my bed? With me?"

You're about to laugh at him at the suggestion but when you glance over your shoulder you see his eyes are glazed. They have that little boy lost quality that peeks out every so often. When you can see past the bravado of too cool for school Dieter and see the scared boy from South America who got teased for having an earring. 

"Yeah, sure." Your eyes drop to his paint-splattered shirt. "Take off the shirt unless you want your sheets ruined." 

He strips it from him without question, watching you enter into his bedroom ahead of him. His heart pounds painfully as he watches you slip under the covers as if you've always belonged there. 

He clamors in, trying not to stare at the soft mounds of your breasts underneath your sleep shirt. Before his courage leaves him he tilts forward onto his palms towards you. He sweeps a kiss across your brow bone before retreating back to his side of the large mattress.

He rolls facing away from you, thankful that you're here with him in his bed. He feels so much calmer with you here near him.

He doesn't want to crowd you and he knows if he sleeps facing you he'll be unable to keep his hands to himself. Every day you look more and more pregnant and it makes him want you so badly his stomach aches. 

He thinks of earlier, and the way you’d called him out on his every insecurity. Sometimes he hates that you know him so well. Most days though, it warms him from the inside out to be so known and seen.

“I’m sorry I yelled before.”

He's shocked when he feels your body press up against his back, your belly pressing tightly against his spine. When your arm slings itself over his waist he has to swallow the unexpected tears. And then he feels it, the soft whisper of your lips against his shoulder. 

"I know. Go to sleep, Dee."

The weather is unusually warm when you wake up the day of your ultrasound. Dieter has been bouncing off the walls all week, desperate to "see his child". He wanted to do a 3D ultrasound but you begged him to just stick with the normal kind.

Because the truth is you're sort of terrified to see the kid. 

A lot of your time is spent trying to forget that you're pregnant, despite the evidence that makes you take out the waistband of your favorite sweatpants. The thought of seeing him or her in 3D freaks you the fuck out. You don't want to know exactly what's growing in there. 

Dieter fights every instinct in his body to take your hand as the two of you pull up to the private clinic. You’re taken to a large exam room filled with sterile equipment and plus seats. You’re instructed to lay back on a chaise that probably costs more than your first apartment.

Dieter looks down at you looking so frightened and feels a pang of care go through him. He sees you absently stroking at your stomach and feels such affection for you in that moment it takes everything in him not to kiss you.

“Can you pass me my bag?”

Dieter nods, handing you the purse on the chair.  He watches panic cross your features as you dig around in your ridiculously oversized purse. He’s about to ask you what’s going on when a serious looking woman with white-blonde hair enters the room.

“Bravo family?”

“Yes,” Dieter replies before you can explain that you’re not a family. That you’re just a surrogate. But you’re still digging around in your bag growing increasingly stressed by the moment.

"Fuck I forgot my headphones, did you bring yours?"

"No." Dieter is distracted by the implements this woman is pulling out. He's eager to see his child. He takes the purse from you, placing it back on the seat and out of your reach. You fix him with a desperate look.

“Dieter I need-“

“I’m pushing the shirt up,” the woman orders.

Your shirt is tugged up officiously, exposing the round swell of your stomach. Dieter is fucking feral for it, his eyes raking in the naked flesh with a mixture of desire and a pride that nearly buckles him.

This woman isn't patient like Judy was back in the states. She doesn't wear a name tag. She doesn’t care about you being comfortable or wearing headphones. She's just squeezes the jelly as you and Dieter bicker about the headphones and the wand is quickly pressed against your belly.

You make sure your head is tilted as far from the screen as possible, not wanting to see anything. You still want to pretend that there’s nothing in there. That you’re a rented womb. That this thing growing inside you has nothing to do with you.

"Do you want to know the sex today?"

"Yes," Dieter nods and you wish more than anything that you hadn't forgotten your headphones. Learning this will make it more real, more tangible. Then he looks down at you, eyes soft. “Is that okay?”

You consider plugging your ears with your fingers but it won't do any good. Dieter won't be able to stop talking about it until you give birth. For a moment the severe woman pauses, cocking a brow in your direction before you finally give her a short nod. She looks back to the ultrasound, confirming before telling you both.

"It's a boy."

Dieter is sure he can feel his heart overflowing. He's going to have a son. This will be the only performance he cares about: that of good father. Without thinking he clutches your hand in his, overcome.

You go to pull back, to pull away and then you hear it. This steady, soft thudding that makes you pause. A strange hypnotic sound as ancient as time itself.

Your son's heartbeat.

Dieter watches the way you slowly blink. Your head which is always tilted away from the monitor now slowly drags to look over at it.

Your eyes are wide, and your body tenses as this being, this life becomes real to you. He’s right there. As you see his coiled, sleeping frame in the monitor and know that this life is inside you now. That you are his home, his protector, his love.

"Hi," you whisper to the tiny being on the screen. "Hi little boy."

That's your son onscreen. You made that child together with the man clutching your hand.

You made this. You made life.

It's so real. He's there, this child you thought of as a commodity, as something you were merely the vessel for. How could you have been arrogant enough to think you wouldn't grow attached? How could your hubris have convinced you that you could separate yourself emotionally?

That’s him. He’s right there. You look at your stomach, amazed that while you were busy pretending he didn’t exist, he was there growing so close to your heart. He was there sleeping and eating and living. Tears dot your lash line and you turn to Dieter, his face so close to yours. You see the tears glossy in his eyes. Affection deep and abiding fills you and you can't stop yourself from pressing your lips against his. He’s immediately receptive, his hand going to your cheek.

The previously stern nurse smiles softly before excusing herself to get a copy of your ultrasound.

At the sound of the door closing behind her it’s like you both remember who you are – boss and employee. Surrogate. You’re being paid for this. His eyes go wide as you abruptly pull back, realizing too late that you've stepped over the line.

"I'm sorry," you breathe. "That was-"

"It's okay," Dieter says warmly. "It's emotional."

A short while later you're still mortified about what just happened inside. Dieter is uncharacteristically quiet as you both hear towards the towncar. The day is beautiful, sunny and its like the world just got brighter because of what you’ve just learned.

"I can't... I can't believe," you say softly, your mind still back in that room.

"I know," Dieter says, smile wide. "Fucking unbelievable. I'm gonna have a son."

I'm. Not we.

"Yeah, you are."

You walk slowly back to the car, taking your time to bask in the warmth of the day. He longs to take your hand in his but he knows that’s not what you want.

The kiss inside hadn’t been romantic. It had been emotional, the result of sharing something few would. You created life, even if you weren’t together you were forever tied to this tiny being within you.

He can see your eyes are distant, unfocused. He has a pretty good idea about what.

"Got regrets?"

"What? About giving away the... Bubble? No." You shake your head forcing a laugh. "Never wanted kids."

"Yeah you've said that a few times," Dieter observes, eyes stuck on you. He carries his coffee cup loosely in his fingers as you stroll towards the car. "But I mean, people can change."

"Not about this," you tell him. The tone is frosty, but you're holding your mouth in that way he recognizes now. The same look you had that first night in Ireland when you talked about your dad. You're trying not to cry.

Dieter feels his chest constrict.

"Listen, yes I'll have sole custody. But if you wanted photos and shit? I'd understand. It could be like the app. I'd send you updates. Photos, videos anytime you want. I know you’ll be busy with school, but maybe I could bring him up for visits if you feel like it?"

Your heart leaps at the thought.

Yes.

But that's what you say to a hormonal woman, you reason. You tell her what she wants to hear. Not what's practical. Dieter is going to be a father to this child and if he has it his way, Mia will probably be sticking around to be the mom. You’ll be a third wheel, a confusion for your child.

"That's not necessary," you say with a shrug. "This is just all hormones. I'll be f-"

You break off with a gasp, your hand balancing against the towncar for purchase.

"What?" Dieter looks terrified.

"I... I think he just kicked!"

Before Dieter can stop himself his wide hand is over your hand on your belly, cradling it. You both wait a moment and then yes, Dieter feels it, a tiny flutter against his palm. His eyes fill with tears.

"Holy shit!" You both exclaim in unison.

Then you both giggle like schoolchildren that have just learned a new swear world. A breathless giddy laughter that seems to go on forever. You let Dieter keep his hand on your belly, the other over his mouth in disbelief.

"Thank you for doing this," Dieter finally offers thickly, staring at you in a way that warms you from the inside.  "You're changing my life. I feel like the money isn't enough."

"Just don't name him Lemon-Pillow Bravo and we'll be square," you say with a laugh that he returns, eyes crinkling in the corners. He stares at you, looking at the softness in your face pregnancy has brought, the sweet way you’re smiling at him. The position your hand is in resting gently over his on your belly.

Dieter can’t help himself, his head tilts towards yours precisely the same time yours moves towards his. His mouth finds yours, kissing you softly as he cradles your pregnant belly. Your hand goes to the back of his neck, holding him loosely there as you kiss him back, eyes shut, tongues dabbing gently.   The cameras catch it all.

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 3, Unbidden - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, minor discussions of sex, drunk!Bucky, minor violence, FloRida's Low (that song slaps, okay?), minor anti-Winter Soldier sentiment, an unnecessary Ted Bundy reference just because. As always, let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 4.1k

Previously On...: You and Bucky had a heart-to-heart after you came back from your mission with Steve, and Bucky asked a very interesting question about the nature of your relationship with the Star Spangled Man.

A/N: I just finished writing Chapter 9 ahead of schedule, so here is Chapter 3 a little bit earlier than I planned on posting it! Consider it in honor of Sergeant Barnes' 107th Birthday! This is my favorite chapter; I had so much fun writing it, this part in particular (even though it took me a million tries before I got it to where I wanted it). Sam is finally given some page time, and I adore him, so I hope I've captured his essence sufficiently. I sort of love writing drunk!Bucky. Part three is where things are going to take an interesting turn for Bucky and Pocket so I'm looking forward to posting that soon!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!)  @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @jmeelee @cazellen

Slapping your American Express Black Card onto the polished mahogany bar, you made sure the bartender was giving you his full attention. "Everything my group orders tonight goes on my tab, got it?" you told him. "If Tony Stark tries to pay for a single thing, tell him it's already covered and if he has a problem with it, he can take it up with me." The bartender nodded, taking your card and depositing it with the other open tabs behind the bar. It was going to be a very lucrative night for the bar.

You'd all come to Gino's, a downtown dive of place you all loved, to celebrate Bucky's clearance for missions. As a part of his presidential pardon for the Winter Soldier's crimes (completely unnecessary, in your opinion, because Bucky hadn’t been the one to commit them), he had been required to undertake 12 months of court-mandated therapy, and now that he had ten months under his belt, his therapist had signed her approval for Bucky to engage in real Avenger work, provided he was accompanied by another member of the team at all times for supervision. He'd be leaving tomorrow for a classified location with Steve and Sam; they'd be gone for about a week, so you'd wanted to commemorate the event and leave him with some positive memories before he left.

You rejoined your group in the far back, where you'd commandeered the largest corner booth and the surrounding tables. "Tonight's on me," you declared as you approached, "so drink up and eat well." Your friends cheered their thanks; Thor even banged his giant fist against the table in appreciation. You did a mock curtsey before coming to stand behind Bucky where he sat, draping your arms around his neck and shoulders and bringing your head down alongside his.

"Having a good time?" you asked him.

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, leaning back into your touch. "With you by my side? Always," he replied, his voice laced with affection. "But you didn't have to do this, doll. Pay for everything, I mean. We could have all gotten our own."

Letting go of his shoulders, you moved around to sit next to him. "Bullshit. My best friend is going on his first Avengers mission, this is the least I can do."

"Listen, man," said Sam Wilson, also known as The Falcon and, if you were being completely honest, one of your favorite teammates after Bucky, "I know things might have been different when you were younger, but in the 21st Century, when a lady offers to buy you drinks, the polite thing to do is just say 'thank you' and get hammered."

Bucky laughed and chugged down the beer he'd been previously nursing and took the bourbon you'd brought over for him from the bar. "Thank you, Pocket. Though, I don't think I'll be getting... hammered on anything here."

"You're most welcome, Buck," you said, patting his cheek, the stubble tickling at your palm. "But if you are looking to get hammered, I believe our resident God of Thunder has brought a little something extra you could sip on in between beers." You nodded your head toward Thor, who sat a few seats down, pouring a splash of Asgardian something from a flask into Steve's tumbler.

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "Is that so? Maybe I'll take him up on that." The super soldier got up and, squeezing your hand, made his way over to Thor, who gladly poured a generous splash of spirits into Bucky's glass of bourbon.

You watched him for a moment as he sat and drank with Steve and Thor, a warm feeling building in your chest at the sight of him looking and doing so well. He'd made so much progress since he first arrived at the Tower and you were unbelievably proud of him.

"You've been good for him, Pocket," Sam offered with a raise of his glass. "But I gotta know, when are you two gonna stop tip-toeing around each other and make things official?"

You let out an agonized groan. "Not you, too, Sam. Why don't you and Natty get together and write some fanfic about it? That's about as close to reality as it'll get."

"What are Wilson and I collaborating to write smutty fanfiction about?" Natasha asked as she sat down in Bucky's vacated seat, passing you a shot glass.

"Za nashu druzhbu!" You toasted in unison before downing the sweet liquid. To our friendship!

"A Redheaded Slut shot? How very Natasha," you teased.

"Don't try to change the subject," Sam interjected. "Romanoff: (Y/L/N) and Barnes. They go together like Netflix and chill or what?"

Natasha's eyes lit up. "Absolutely! Oh my God; I'm so glad you see it, too. They're just screaming 'Let's fuck already,' right?!"

"I don't know that they haven't started already," Sam said, obviously pleased to finally have someone to talk about this with. "I've never seen Metalhead as content as when he's with Pocket. Figure she's gotta be doing something to keep a smile on his face, if you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows, setting Natasha off into a barking laugh.

"Jesus Christ, Sam!" you sputtered. "I'm sitting right fucking here!"

Sam gave you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Baby Girl. 'M just calling it like I see it. And with you and Barnes, I see it."

"She's going to stick to the story that nothing's going on between them," Nat began.

"Because there is nothing going on between us," you interrupted.

"But I think we all know something is brewing between those two," she continued, as if you hadn't said a thing. "I mean, do you really think they're just sleeping in the same bed every night?"

"Hold up, hold up." Sam raised his hand to stop Nat. "You're telling me those two share a bed? How long has this been going on and why am I just hearing about it now?"

"Oh my god," you said, putting your head in your hands and wishing the floor would open up and suck you into a hell dimension. It had to be better than sitting here listening to the two of them talk as if weren't in the room.

"You didn't know?!" Nat's expression was incredulous. "Essentially since the moment Barnes moved into the Tower. They alternate whose bed they sleep in, but it's literally every. single. night."

"That's it," you murmured, though you were sure they weren't paying you any attention, "I am never telling you another thing, ever, Natalia." They weren't embarrassing you, per se. You felt no shame about your closeness with Bucky. It was more that you hated that they were making assumptions about him. You could take ones made about you; you'd been doing that your entire life, but Bucky was different. He was... fragile wasn't the right word, but it came close. You wanted to protect him from everything negative, including your friends gossiping about his alleged sex life.

"Guys, please," you said, loud enough to catch their attention. "I know that, whatever I say, it's not going to convince you that I'm telling you the truth, but I don't want Bucky to hear it, okay? You're just going to make him uncomfortable and he'll retreat into himself, close up. So, save it for when you're by yourselves, alright?"

The sincerity in your words caused Sam and Nat's gazes to soften as they looked at you. You hoped that, despite their ribbing, they understood that your concern for your shared friend was genuine, and that, of the three of you sitting at the table, you knew Bucky best.

"Alright," said Sam, "I'll drop it. For now. But know I've got my eye on you, Pocket." He gave you a shrewd look. "Don't think you can keep your secret from Ole Sammy forever."

You shook your head, annoyingly amused.

The evening moved on pleasantly: conversation and alcohol flowed, and you felt yourself loosening up as the shots you'd drank with Natasha worked their way through your system until you were sporting a pleasant buzz. Bucky eventually came back to join you at your table, eyes glassy and with a giant, dopey grin plastered across his face.

"How's that Asgardian liquor treating you, Buckaroo?" you asked him with a grin of your own, knowing full well he was sauced.

"'s real good, Pocket," he slurred, propping his head on his fist and gazing at you with a dreamy expression. "'s nice and tingly, like the sun is shining on my insides."

"I'm happy for you, Buck," you said with a laugh, shooting an amused glance over Bucky's head to Nat, who responded with a smirk of her own. "That's real good."

He put his arms around you and pulled you into him, almost tugging you off of your chair in the process. "No! You're real good. Sho good to me, all warm and fuzzy and pretty. Just wanna keep touchin' you, you know? 'Cause you make me think of happy things." He paused to nuzzle his face into your hair. "You're m'favorite person."

"You're my favorite person, too, Buck," you said, stifling a giggle, amused by this new soft, silly side of him.

"Me?" he squeaked--actually squeaked. You nodded and then let out a surprised squeal as he pulled you into his lap, holding you almost tight enough to be uncomfortable, his metal arm clinging you to his chest. But then he pulled his head back to look you in the eye, his face suddenly serious.

He slurred, leaning in closer. You could smell the sweet scent of the Asgardian liquor on his breath. "Don'tcha dare tell Stevie, though, doll" he hiccupped, "'cause he'd be real put out if he found out I was your fav'rite."

"Well, then we won't tell him," you assured him, casting a bewildered glance to Nat. She subtly shook her head, as if to say she was just as confused as you as to why Steve would care if Bucky was your favorite person.

Bucky nodded solemnly. "Good. Don't want 'im feelin' bad, but 'm not sorry. 'S not my fault, either. He had ages and he didn't do nuthin'. That's on 'im. Not on me, not on you. On 'im." He began petting your hair in long strokes, seemingly distracted by the feel of it and losing his original train of thought. "Mmmm, you're so pretty. M'pretty little Pocket."

"Why, thank you, my handsome soldier," you replied, tapping him playfully on the nose while wondering what the hell he had been going on about concerning Steve. You hoped he wasn't so drunk that he didn't remember this conversation in the morning, because you were going to press the shit out of him for details.

Oh, but then... the next song from the jukebox caught your attention, and you looked up as the opening bars of Flo Rida's Low filled the air.

"Oh no," moaned Nat with a trace of laughter. "You're gonna dance, aren't you?"

A broad grin broke across your face. You loved dancing to anything, but this song was your kryptonite. "I can't help it," you told her, "it calls me, I come. Let's go!" You stood up, taking Bucky's hand and trying to pull him along with you, but the super soldier just shook his head and refused to move. Apparently he wasn't that drunk. "Fine. Sam, Nat, dance with me."

"I'm coming, Baby Girl," Sam said, taking Nat's hand and dragging her to meet you.

As soon as you had the space, you began to move, the music pulsing through your veins, syncing perfectly with your heartbeat. You swayed your hips in time with the infectious rhythm, your body moving effortlessly to the beat.

You felt Sam come up behind you, placing his hands on your hips as he began to dance with you, bass thumping in your chests. You and Sam had danced together countless times before; he was one of the only ones in the Tower who enjoyed dancing as much as you did, so the two of you had had plenty of practice moving together. Your movements may have been completely innocent, but they gave the appearance of something much more intimate-- it was just the nature of the dance. You could feel the heat of Sam's body pressed against your back, the way his hands gripped your hips protectively. It was all in good fun, a playful dance between friends, until you felt Sam's hands fly from your waist as you were about to get low.

You spun around, finding Bucky standing where Sam had been just a few seconds before, Sam now several feet away, anger wearing heavy on his face.

"What the hell, man?" Sam barked at Bucky. "What'd you shove me for?"

Bucky, his face flushed and eyes narrowed with a combination of intoxication and something dark, took a step towards Sam. "Didn't shove ya, Wilson," he slurred, his words blending together. "Ya just...got in the way."

"Got in the way? Man, we were just dancing. How was I in your way?"

Bucky's jaw clenched, his metal arm flexing by his side. The atmosphere shifted, thick with tension, as if the air in the room had suddenly turned molasses-slow.

"Okay, boys." You stepped between them, hands down and palms open, trying to create as much distance between the two as possible. The last thing you wanted was a drunken argument devolving into some kind of brawl. "It's getting late, and we've all had a good amount to drink." You gave Sam a pointed glance. "Bucky, will you take me home to the Tower? I'm pretty tired and I think I'm ready to call it a night."

Sam nodded in understanding-- it would be a hell of a lot easier to get Bucky home in his current state if he thought he was escorting you, instead of the other way around.

"Yeah, 'course, Pocket," Bucky said, his eyes softening as he looked at you. You were able to call out your goodnights to the rest of the team and, leaving instructions with Nat to close out your tab at the end of the night, began making your way to the door. Bucky stumbled a bit, his balance compromised by the alcohol in his system. You wrapped an arm around him, steadying him as you both made your way outside.

Outside the bar, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the noisy atmosphere inside. Bucky leaned heavily against you, his arm draped around your shoulders for support.

"Fuck, Barnes. You're heavy," you groaned under his weight.

"Fuck me, Pocket," he slurred, head tilting to the side. There was that look in his eyes again. The same one you'd seen the day he'd gotten his new arm. You couldn't identify it, but it made the hair on your arms stand up straight.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I said." You could feel his warmth seeping through your clothes, his presence comforting even in his intoxicated state.

"You good to stand on your own for a second, soldier?" you asked him. "I need to hail us a cab."

Bucky nodded and you carefully eased yourself out from under his arm, scanning the street for a taxi. The bustling city night was alive with lights and sounds, creating a tapestry of urban energy that seemed to match the frequency of the electricity that ran through your brain.

God, did you love this city.

As you raised your hand to flag down a cab, you couldn't help but steal glances at Bucky, his hair in disarray, falling into his eyes and his lips slightly parted as he breathed in the cool night air. Even drunk and disheveled, he still looked so handsome. There was a softness to him in the moment that made him look younger, and for a second, you could imagine that beautiful, carefree young man who had been drafted to cross the sea to fight someone else's war, and had paid for it with even more than his life.

A taxi screeched to a stop in front of you, interrupting your reverie. You hurriedly opened the door and helped Bucky inside, sliding in beside him. The cab driver gave you both a curious glance before pulling away from the curb. Once you gave him the address to Avengers Tower, that look got more and more frequent as he kept checking his rear view mirror.

"Hey, eyes on the road, buddy," you snapped at him, probably putting more aggression into your voice than you had intended, but the way the cab driver was looking at the two of you made you uneasy.

The ride back to the Tower was quiet, the low hum of the taxi's engine serving as a backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your mind. Bucky slumped against you, his head resting on your shoulder as he dozed off. You gently ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of it against your skin. The city lights blurred past outside the window, casting a hazy glow over both of you.

"Listen," the cabbie eventually began in his thick New Jersey accent, "sweetheart, ya seem like a nice girl, but I don't think ya know what you're dealin' with, here. That man right there's the Winter Soldier. He's a murderer, a nasty one. The kind that likes to take a sweet thing like you and do horrible things."

You rolled your eyes. If they were going to keep telling stories about the Winter Soldier, the least they could do was get the details right instead of making him sound like Ted Fucking Bundy.

"This nasty murderer is my best friend," you said, each word clipped and infused with the anger you felt on Bucky's behalf. "So, maybe you should stick with getting us to our destination instead of trying to lecture me on something you know absolutely nothing about."

The cabbie fell silent, his eyes darting nervously between the road ahead and the rearview mirror. You could tell that he was regretting his decision to say anything, realizing that he had struck a nerve. Or, you thought with an amused chuckle, afraid that you were just as nasty as the Winter Soldier. But you couldn't blame him entirely. The reputation of the Winter Soldier was notorious, and it was only natural for people to be cautious. You just wished they knew the name Bucky Barnes, and the actual man, himself, just as well.

You sighed and shifted your gaze to Bucky, still unconscious against your shoulder. It wasn't fair, you thought, how people judged him solely based on his past. Yes, there were dark chapters in his history, but he had fought tooth and nail to regain control over his life. He had redeemed himself in countless ways even before he had officially joined the Avengers.

As the taxi approached Avengers Tower, you leaned over and gently shook Bucky awake. His eyes fluttered open, confusion etched in his features for a brief moment before recognition set in.

"We're home, Buck," you whispered softly, trying to soothe away any lingering unease from your brief conversation with the cab driver. "Let's get you upstairs." You threw a handful of bills in the cabbie's direction, not even bothering to wait for him to give you your change; you just wanted out of his cab and away from his prejudice.

Bucky nodded, rubbing sleep from his eyes. With your help, he stumbled out of the taxi and leaned on you for support as you made your way into the building.

"'m sorry 'bout that, doll," he drawled as you passed the security desk, sending a quick wave to the night guard.

"Sorry for what, Buck?" you asked him. He was silent as you made your way to the elevator bay, waiting until you had pressed the button to summon the elevator car.

"'bout the cabbie." He avoided looking at you while you waited, and it was like a punch to your gut-- he'd heard everything that ignorant man had said. The elevator doors dinged open and you helped usher him inside.

You took a deep breath as you pressed the button for your floor, the retinal scanner making quick work to prove your identity and verify your security clearance. "Buck," you exhaled, "you have nothing to apologize for. That man was an asshole and an idiot."

Bucky leaned back against the elevator wall, his head thumping against the cool metal. "But he was right. I am a nasty murderer."

You could scream. You could strangle that cabbie with your bare hands. Bucky had been doing so well, had been having such a good night, and one person's careless remark had ruined all of it.

"Barnes," you said, turning to face him. "Look at me. Do you think I'm stupid?"

His eyes grew wide at the insinuation, even in his drunk state, he was with it enough to be taken aback by your question. "'bsolutely not, doll. You're the smartest person I know. Smarter than Stark, even, 'cause you can admit when your wrong." The compliment left you trying to hide a smile.

"Okay. Do you trust my judgment?"

"With my life," he breathed. The elevator opened to your floor, and you helped Bucky out into the hall and down the corridor toward his room. The soft glow of the hallway lights illuminated his features, casting a warm, intimate aura around the two of you.

"So, if I'm not stupid and you trust my judgment, trust me when I tell you are not what that man says you are. You are a good man who had too many horrible things happen to him. And despite all those horrible things, you are still the kindest, funniest, most gentle man that I know."

As you reached his door, Bucky turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. "Thank you, Pocket. Thank you for taking care of me, and for being my friend," he murmured, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and emotion.

A small smile played on your lips. "Always, Buck," you replied softly. "Now let's get you inside."

With a gentle push, you opened the door to his room and guided him over to his bed. Bucky collapsed onto the mattress with a heavy sigh, his body sinking into the softness beneath him. Once you'd pulled off his boots, you knelt down beside him, tucking the blanket around his shoulders.

As you straightened up, Bucky reached out and grabbed your hand, his grip surprisingly strong despite his intoxicated state. His gaze locked with yours, a mix of vulnerability and longing flickering in his eyes.

"I don't want you to leave," he whispered, his voice laced with a hint of desperation.

"I'm just going to hop over to my room to change into pajamas," you assured him. "I'll be right back. Promise." You smoothed his hair, trying to tame it from where it stood up in all directions.

"'kay," he said through a yawn, "but don't take too long. I got somethin' I need to tell ya. 's important."

"Okay," you told him, planting a kiss on his head. "I'll be just a minute." You hurried across the hall to your own room, changing into your pajamas and brushing your teeth in record time.

Re-entering Bucky's room, you were extremely curious as to what he'd wanted to say to you. "Alright, Buckaroo, I'm back. What did you--"

You smiled to yourself. Bucky was fast asleep, light snores emanating from him as he lay sprawled across the bed. You couldn't help but find him adorable in his slumber, especially with his hair sticking up in all directions.

With a soft sigh, you walked over to the side of the bed and gently sat down, watching Bucky's peaceful face. It was moments like these that reminded you of how much he had been through, how much pain and loss he had experienced. Despite his tough exterior, there was a vulnerability about him that tugged at your heartstrings.

You leaned in closer, unable to resist the urge to brush a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. Your fingers lingered on his skin for a moment longer than necessary, feeling the warmth radiating from him. The desire to protect and comfort him overwhelmed you, making your heart ache with affection, and something else that you couldn't quite identify.

Pulling down the covers, you climbed into bed next to him, snuggling up to his body for warmth. He grunted and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. It wasn't long before you drifted off into a slumber of your own.

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