#i have no memory of doing this but my drafts were empty last week????

[scribbling-dragon]

sometimes I think about my years as a scout. and then wonder how im still alive/sane

[matenrou-fan]

Lucifer pays you a visit

I didn't write that much for OM last time when actually I really wanted to!! So I decided to finish this thing that was in my drafts for a while.. Hope to receive more OM request this time ahhhh!! >.<

Actions are taking place in the human world, when you get back after a year in Devildom. But even if the student exchange program is over, Lucifer still wants to see his dearest girlfriend

femreader, teasing, begging, body worship, oral (receiving);; 2748 words;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

You sigh, a little bit nervous as you look at a clock on your bed table. Why does time always get so slow when you are waiting for something? Or maybe you should use the word someone..? Anyways, this waiting starts getting on your nerves and you get up from bed.

Your room was really comfy, looking the same as the time when you left it, but honestly now you feel like something was off, like it was empty a little bit. Even with all those things that you were missing for the whole year that you spent in another dimension with demon brothers didn't bring you that happens that you expected to feel when you finally get back home.

Oh, but maybe they can entertain you right now, as you have nothing more to do. It has already been a few weeks since you got here so all dust was cleaned up but you still have a little mess here, your old things were mixed with new ones that you brought with yourself as farewell gifts from Devildom. You start looking through pages of your old diary, reading about your old boring days. Well, they weren't that boring back then, just now, after all those things that you've been through, these little notes look so.. peaceful.. You can't help but chuckle and move forward, searching for more things that will bring you some memories.

After some time you finally get to your wardrobe. Huh, there's so much clothes that you forget about..! This past week was a little bit busy as you tried to revive your "normal" human life again, thinking about studying and working, so you didn't pay that much attention to your clothes.

As you looked through shelves you noticed the one with pajamas, and one set got your attention.. It was a pink silk shorts with white prints and a little bow on a waistband, and a matching top with thin white lace as straps. You chuckle, looking at a small piece of fabric and then quickly undress yourself. You were a little playful today so you decided that this cute pajama, that was much more revealing than the one that you picked before, is more suited to your mood right now. You bite your lip as you look at the mirror in your bedroom, just a cute and innocent look, but you can imagine his reaction already.

Speak of the Devil.. As soon as you think about your visitor again you suddenly hear a knock on the door. You ran out of the bedroom, already a little bit inpatient.

"Who it's is..?" - you asked with a smirk on your face when you get closer to the door, heart beating so fast as you already know who is standing there.

"You already know who's decided to pay a visit to you so late.." - the deep voice on the other side of the door chuckled. - "It's Lucifer.."

Well. Any other humans would probably shoot their door tight after hearing something like that, thinking it's some sort of prank, but you know that's not a joke or something, and quickly open the door.

Lucifer was standing here, his casual academy's suit was gone, as he was wearing black sweater with a turtleneck and dark blue jacket. A simple look but he was so charming right now, his black styled hair and deep red eyes was matching his clothes perfectly.

"How I'm glad to finally meet you again.." - he smirks, his voice playful as always. But as soon as his eyes move from your smiling face to your body, exploring your soft, almost uncovered skin, his smirk grows wider. - "Someone definitely was waiting for me today, huh? Such a great welcoming move just for me?"

You look at him innocently, acting like you don't understand what he's talking about and lead him to your kitchen. Despite all these teases you actually missed him and wanted to talk about so many things.

And he feels the same. As you two drink tea together, he listens carefully to all your stories. You got carried away a little, telling him about all that awkward situation when you suddenly get back after a whole year, your friend's reaction and everything. There were some funny stories, some embarrassing ones, but you didn't hide anything from him. And your lover appreciated that, he didn't even try to hide his smile as he was listening to your mumbles, these sparkles in your eyes are so adorable, and these cute giggles.. He can't help but sometimes his gaze starts wandering around your body, slowly moving from your small hands to your naked shoulder and then to your breast, covered with light fabric. He licks his lips and looks at your eyes again, despite he's still hearing all that you say his mind flies away in another world as he starts wondering about all those things that can help him show just how much he actually missed you all this time.

Then you suddenly finish and smile at him.

"So, and how are things in Devildom? I bet you also have plenty of stories about Mammon causing troubles, don't you?" - you giggle, drinking warm herbal tea and Lucifer scoff:

"You bet I have them.. But darling.." - he moves closer, his fingertips touching your hands lightly - "Don't you think that now, when we finally have some.. private time without my annoying brothers, we should spend it more properly?"

He smirks, noticing as light pink covers your cheeks, your eyes on his face, the mix of surprise, embarrassment and tease in your gaze look so charming. Who know Avatar of Pride would fall so easily in your cute little trap? But a little look at your body, this soft and sweet smell of your skin was enough for him to get needy. He hold your hands more tightly, squeezing it a little as his thumbs caressing your knuckles. Lucifer sighs a little, revealing his softer side, as he can't help but feel the same pink color adorn his face too.

"I missed you so much.." - your heart skipped a beat when he said that, his tone so soft and deep. It was unusual to see him like that, as he showed this sensitive part of him only for you on rare occasions. But that also means that he's not joking or playing right now..

You look at his large hands on your smaller one, then look back at him. The little changes in your gaze tell him more than any words can tell as he gets up and gets closer, leaning towards you and cupping your face with his arms, bringing you to a kiss, a hungry one, as he can't get enough of your lips. Just how much he thought about this during your separation, laying all alone in his bedroom late at night, the image of your face doesn't leave his mind..

You almost chuckle, thinking how needy he can be and then gasp, a little bit surprised, as his arms find their way to your waist. He squeezed it a little before picking you up. He breaks a kiss, just for a few seconds, breathing heavily.

"Where is your bedroom?"

"Ooh, I thought you were so hungry that you would take me right here.." - you giggle, as your legs wrap around his hips. Thoughts about him pinning you to the table, so fast, aggressive and merciless.. You felt a tingly running to your core but Lucifer just smirks:

"Despite that I can do that.. I want to give your more proper attention today. I want to fully enjoy you, all for myself.." - his hands moved to your ass cheeks, holding them tightly as he pressed your crotch to his.

You shiver, telling him where your room is and he quickly gets inside, laying you down on the bed as he gets on top of you. He didn't even give you time to react as he kissed you again, now a more soft but still so greedy, pushing himself inside your mouth, his tongue a little bit bitter, Lucifer is probably drinking coffee before paying a visit to you.. You moan right into his mouth as his hands start exploring your body, the soft fabric of your pajama was so light, it almost feels like he's touching your naked skin. Well, it didn't take too much time before he actually got under your small top, cupping your breast, your already hard nipples between his fingers as he played with them a little. Even after so much time he still remembers all your weak spots and now uses them to tease you a little, yet still didn't touch you down here, only paying attention to your chest and trembling figure.

His lips moved further, now a demon was kissing your neck, your little noises were so precious.. He was missing them so much. And oh just how much he was missing those high pitched gasps that you always did when he suddenly bit your skin, as he did just right now. He looked prideful at the red mark, licking it and getting a little bit down, to a collarbone.

"Sh.. Sh.. don't whine too much.." - he chuckled, kissing a prominent bone before leaving a hickey - "I need to make sure every human would know that you're mine.."

You can't help but giggle softly. That's it, that's the Lucifer you always had known.. Possessive and jealous in his love, but that's why you like him - because his wild passion always hits you right into the heart, making shivers run down your spine as he keeps transmitting his inner fire by bunch of hickeys. Lines of his marks going down, to your breast now, where your lover stops for a moment. He looked up for a moment, and this manic deep gaze of his glowing red eyes.. you whimper, arching your back a little, pushing your body closer to his, making him chuckle in amusement.

"Be patient, little lady.. After all, I want to spend the whole night by your side, so we don't need to hurry, okay..?"

He helps you to take off the small top, admiring your beautiful naked breast, enjoying every small detail - the way your chest gets up and down with uneven breath, how small goosebumps covers you as fresh air of your bedroom tickles heated up skin, and, of course, your moles and birthmarks that was like a little starts on canvas of your beautiful body. Lucifer adores every part of you and your figure, never getting enough of this mesmerizing view in front of him.

"You're just like I remember.." - he whispers, leaning closer and kissing a gap between your boobs. Despite the fact that he still was so playful today, thoughts about him actually being here, with you, melted the demon's heart, and he got kinda romantic, almost worshiping your body with his hands and lips.

Licking your right areola before cupping sensitive nipples between lips, making you whimper. Your hand finds its way in Lucifer's hair, buried in black locks as slow lapping of his tongue sends shivers down your spine. His other hand grabs your left breast, fingertips playing and pushes a small teat as he enjoys all the sweet sounds you make, singing so cute just for him.

It doesn't take too much time before Lucifer eventually lowered more, peppering your stomach with kisses, and then finally reaching your hips that were trembling in silk shorts. Without any words he just took it off, throwing it away just to see the cotton fabric of your panties already being soaked in your wetness.

"I can see you were waiting for it no less than me.." - a low chuckle escaped his lips, tickling your skin as his head was now between your thighs. Prolonged eye contact on your blushing face as his arms slowly get under waistband and pull it down, revealing your heated up skin inch by inch.

You bite your lip, getting more flustered - of course you wanted him no less than he wants you, yet after so much time apart you suddenly get more ashamed again, as if it was one of your first times with this playful demon. And of course it doesn't go unnoticed to him.

"Ooh? So you're nervous..? Don't worry, s/o, you know I don't bite.. Well, at least this part of your body.." - Lucifer chuckles, caressing your inner thighs as he spreads your legs a little. The view of your pulsing cunt makes his already starving mind go even crazy and he leaned closer, making first, long and slow lick. Such a bitter yet sweet taste, even the most expensive aged Demonus will never be as heady and delightful as your sinful ambrosia. And along with these soft whimpers that get more high pitched when movements of his tongue get more strong and intense.. truly majestic.

Lucifer was just a pro at making you squirm around with his mouth, playing with your folds before lapping on your clit in fast pace, than, as soon as he sees how much you start trembling and lifting your hips more, he suddenly slow down and move his tongue away, leaving your whining and sobbing. In the beginning you thought that your lover is kinda inpatient today but now it seems like he is willing to do things for a long time, making up for lost time when he was not here. He was literally eating you out, sucking on your folds, pushing his tongue deep inside, slurping all juices, enjoying your body as the most pleasant meal.

"Mm.. Luci, please…" - you moan, grasping his hair again as it's starting to be too much. Your head starts to feel dizzy as all your nerves concentrate in your core, aching for release. Knot in your tummy grow more and more, pulsing and making you tremble in anticipation.

"I didn't even use my fingers and you already like that?" - he smirks right into your pussy, licking your folds, tip of his tongue so suffocatingly close to your throbbing clit. - "Tell me, how often did you dream about this if now you're so oversensitive?"

You whine in embarrassment. Oh of course, how can you forget about all these teases, as Lucifer always loves to play with you.. Bringing you almost to the edge, sending more and more waves of goosebumps over your whole body with his movements, just too mocking you for being so needy for him..

"I.. several times every week.." - voice so weak yet you should answer, knowing damn well this demon will not continue if you're not telling him.

"How cute.. You were being so desperately needy, yet never called for me to come?"

"Well.. I thought that maybe you would be busy or something.." - you mumble under your breath, looking away.

"Oh, sweetheart.. You should know that no matter how busy I get I always would find time to spend it alone with you.." - Lucifer smiles, pressing his lips to your clit again, kissing a small bundle of nerves before sucking on it. Arms strong enough to keep you in place as you start bucking your hips again, feeling an upcoming tingling wave in your core.

All your muscles tensed up for a moment and you moan as a hot rush overflows you, burning you in bliss. Lucifer keeps moving his tongue around your clit, gladly suckin your cum as his amused eyes watch your pleasant face.. How you gasp, digging nails in sheets around you with one hand and pulling his hair with another, how you shut your eyes, full of tears, overwhelmed with such strong pushing feeling between your thighs, how you strain your vocal cord, calling his name so loud and needy.. Lucifer can enjoy this beautiful view in front of him for eternity. But he wants to push even more, wants to see the same expression on your face when you would clench around his dick, squeezing him with your walls, so tight it's hard to move, almost as if you are asking to fulfill your pussy with his cum.. Image of you getting lost in your pleasure again, as he pounds you like a wild animal doesn't leave his mind for the whole time as he gets inside your house and sees your provocative pajamas.

So Lucifer pulls away from your thighs, getting on top of you with a smug smile.

"So, darling.. Are you ready to start real fun..?"

[ultralightpoe]

Vigilante Shit - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Never liked this one which is why it stayed in the drafts fr so long, it just always seemed empty. It's definitely missing something.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Word Count:9,131

Warnings: Cuss words, reader was once apart of the red room

Apart of my MIDNIGHTS EVENT.

Main Masterlist

Enjoy!

Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man

You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them

Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie

They say looks can kill and I might try

I don't dress for women

I don't dress for men

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

-

It’s the pity on her face that makes you want to claw her eyes out, or maybe the happy family photo sitting on her desk staring and taunting you with their stupid smiling faces. Each of her children smiled like nothing was wrong in the world, like they didn’t have to worry about earning their way or surviving the day.

Dr. Aquinos children would never know pain.  

But that was a given, they weren’t bought and sold off. They weren’t tortured and abused for years only to be torn out when Natasha fucking Romanoff decides to free everyone from that chain and force them into the real world. 

Did it make you pathetic to say you missed it? 

In the red room you had a cot, a meal at least once a day and training. Out here you were no one. No trace of you existed. No ids, or photos, no friends or family. You were nothing. 

Even ghosts had more than you at this point. 

“You know it’s common to feel this way about it? That longing to have it back? It’s the pain and the change, you feel like you have nothing right now but I can assure you that’s not true.” 

You say nothing. 

“Have you given any thought to our last session?” The therapist asks, voice saccharine amount of sweet that tells you she knows your looking for a fight today and she won’t be giving into it. You hated that she knew you would try that, you hated these sessions all together. 

“Yes.” Lie. And judging by the quirk in her smile she knows it too. 

“I think it’s extremely important for you in this next step, to get rid of the suit. What was it they called you?” You don’t reply for a minute, your own little form of rebellion, but she doesn’t let you get away with it for long. “The…. Cobra?” 

“The. Viper.” You bite out, grinding your teeth together and fisting your hands at your side. “The Red Viper to be exact.” 

“Can you explain to me why it is you got that name? I mean your other counter parts all follow a …..widow theme….. but you don’t?” 

“It just….. happened that way.” You lie. “How much longer do we have?” 

Why did she not have a clock?

“Ah. So the story has something to do with Bucky Barnes.” She smiles and you fight back the sneer. 

“Nope.” 

“You always ask for the time when memories of him are brought up.” 

Not. True. You don’t bother arguing because that might prove her point. 

“Can you recall what he looked like?” 

A flash of ice blue crosses your mind, his eyes. Followed by roses and ballet slippers. A small opening to freedom right there in your grasp, his smiling face….. replaced by that of betrayal, the pain and torture you suffered for weeks after because he-

“No.” You lie. “I only knew him as the winter soldier.”

“Have you tried reaching out?” 

“No. And I never will.” Not until you were able to kill him, get your revenge. 

Your therapist didn’t know about your revenge list though,she would have you imprisoned for it. The list of names of every mastermind and agent that did you wrong, and at the very end of the list was the one person you actually managed to trick you, the one person you gave everything you had left to. 

Bucky Barnes would be the last person you killed in this life, and you would make sure to enjoy every second of it.  

-

It’s not everyday they pull you from your training program and load you into a transportation vehicle, and you don’t know whether to be scared or excited by the change in routine. 

You decide on excitement, because a widow is never. Ever. Scared. 

The keepers transporting you all avoid eye contact and you bite back the smirk, knowing that you installed that fear when you bit the thumb off the last guard that tried to touch you inappropriately. You might be hydras toy but you were not a plaything for these half wits. 

“Your mission will be in direct partnership with the Winter Soldat.” The agent in front of you explains, watching you load up your widow uniform with hidden weapons “there’s a list of names that needs to be taken care of, and it might take a minute so they are pairing you both. They want no mistakes, only the best.” 

“No traces no trails. No chances.” You answer, already having it memorized, biting down on your tongue when you remember the poor girl you left as a witness to your last mission. 

Hydra never found out, but her scared scream when she caught you killing her father will haunt you. 

You wondered if you might have had someone to scream over at one point. 

“He won’t speak to you so don’t bother.” The agent grunts as the vehicle comes to a stop and he slams his fist on the side to let them know it’s safe to open the doors. 

They all cast you another look as you try not to roll your eyes at the drama. If you truly wanted out of this vehicle you could slaughter them all, you just knew that hydra would track you down no matter what so what was the point?

They lead you down hundreds of gray halls, each getting darker than the last and the smell of mold and desperation heightened with each step. Finally at the very last cell door they all raise their weapons and slide it open, muttering something in Russian before a figure emerges. 

The glint of his arm catches on the shit light above you first, and then he is there, glowering and confused in the same go. 

“Soldat. This is the widow.” His mentor speaks in Russian, gesturing to you which makes the soldier give you one look. That’s it. One brief look of disdain and he goes back to looking at the mentor like you weren’t even there. 

This mission is going to go well. 

-

“You’re making progress Bucky.” Dr. Raynor hums, her eyes glinting as she watches him over the pad of paper she hasn’t scribbled on in the past hour. He likes to think that it’s a good sign, but he also tries not to get into his own head about it. “But I’d like to go a little deeper if you’ll let me.” 

“Don’t really have a choice doc.” He mutters, but his tone lacks the usual bite. 

“Funny. Have you slept in a bed recently?” 

“I’ve made it to at least 3 hours of sleep in my bed.” He nods, not mentioning he thought the laundry detergent smelled like your shampoo. 

“You bought any home decorations? Anything at all?” 

“There’s a welcome mat by the front door.” 

“Inside or outside?” 

“…..inside.” He wasn’t brave enough to put it out in the hall yet. 

“I just want a house that has a welcome mat and that cookie smell. Something to call home.” Those were your words, whispered to him the night before the soldier….. 

“Tell me what you have been up to lately.” 

“Lunches with Yori….missions with Sam…. And I’ve been…. Trying to find someone.” 

“Someone from your time as the soldier?” 

“Yes.” His throat is tight and he might throw up. 

“For revenge?” 

“No…. Well she might want revenge…… I just want her.” He admits. 

Dr. Raynors eyebrows shoot up, and she tries to keep neutral as she asks the next question. “The viper then?” 

“She didn’t like that name.” 

“How did she get it?” 

“Me.” 

“And what did you call her if she didn’t like the name?” 

“Flower.”

- 

I don't start it but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

- 

The roof of the bagel shop on the stupid block you were on was probably the worst spot to be. 

Best, if you’re focusing on the fact that it’s the perfect hideout for the sniper gun you are aiming and the fact that you’re able to lay at a slant so your legs don’t falls asleep while you focus. 

Terrible for the fact that you could smell the pizza shop next door perfectly, and your stomach was beginning to rumble in hunger. 

But you had to focus, your target was supposed to be in his apartment right now, Viktor Aubrel, the man that sold you in the first place. 

Your intel told you he should have been home an hour ago and yet you were still waiting in the winter air that sent a shiver up your spine, too focused on the aim to realize the two figures now on the roof. 

“Are the widows that oblivious now?” A deep voice laughs causing you to whirl, knife out as you spot none other than the winter soldier and the new captain america, both watching you. 

It was the captain that taunted you, a sneer making its way into your lips as you prepare yourself to launch. The winter soldier extends a hand out, blocking the captain with a skeptical look. 

“Sam. A little forewarning, she doesn’t fight like the others.” He mumbles and you all but hiss, not giving either of them a moment before you’re launching at them. 

They track your movements well, both standing to fight as you run across the roof, jumping up on the ledge to give you the upper advantage and launch yourself at them. Starting with the easier target, the man with the shield. Wrapping your arms around his neck and spinning your body until you have his weight thrown in the air. He manages to catch himself standing but you’re ahead of the game, jumping so your feet are planted on his chest and shoving him off the roof right as the winter soldier gets to you.  

“I don’t want to do this.” He mutters and you hiss again, lunging with a knife out, slashing expertly over and over as he dodges as much as he can. “You don’t need to do this.” 

The knife catches in the elbow of his metal arm and his flesh hand comes up to grab your wrist so you twist, kicking his knee down and flick another knife from your uniform. 

“I want to.” You mutter in Russian, voice dripping with disdain as you raise the knife and bring it down. Only to get blasted across the roof. 

The air leaves your lungs as you skid across the concrete of the roof, splayed out staring at the sky and blinking away the pain. 

“She’s quicker than the rest.” Captain America huffs, helping the soldier up. 

“A lethal experiment. Taking a trained widow and injecting her with mutated blood of some guy named Logan Howlett.”

“Where does the viper come from?” 

“Her knives are all laced with venom and poisons. One touch to your skin and it doesn’t matter if it was a fatal wound or not. You’re out.” You hear them both approach, pretending to be passed out before they get close enough and you can kick the soldier in the stomach. He catches your foot, twisting so your body would have to twist with it or break, but you’re already pulling out a knife and launching it at the other. 

A shout of warning leaves the soldier's lips as the knife nearly gets his partner's thigh, you take this weakness and twist until you are wrapped around him and launching you both across the roof. But he is already working his way out, twisting so you slam into the roof once more, his metal arm on your throat holding you down as you claw at it. 

Panic attacks your body, scratching at the metal as the captain comes into view. 

“Stop. We can help you.” The man sighs. 

“Y/n.” The soldier mumbles, eyes pleading. “Let us help-“ 

Your foot bends to smash into his jaw and send him sprawling back. 

“That’s. Not. My. Name.” Your voice is scratchy from the choking and it hurts to talk, but you don’t have time since you’re already dashing to clear the roof. 

But the captain throws his shield and hits your ankle sending you falling until Bucky catches you and twists you with his metal arm so your back was to his chest and he can hold you. 

“It is. You told me so yourself. Remember?” 

“I wanna see my life before all this. I want to see my family and tell them I’m alive. My name was y/n. I found my file and I just-“ 

You were disgusted that you ever told him such things. 

“LET GO!” 

“We can help with your list.” It’s the caption saying this, his face holding pity. “We can’t kill but we can help take them down. If you’re willing.” 

“They all deserve to die!” The one holding you counted in that. 

“I’m not arguing that. But I am setting boundaries. Justice by more death is not the way to do this.” The man tries to ease, attempting a smile. “I’m Sam. You already know Buck-“ 

“Let me go!” 

“We’re proposing a partnership. We help you take them down, get them arrested and you don’t kill any of them.” 

“Right. And I get thrown in a cell right after I’m assuming.” You sneer, trying not to focus on the scent of hazel and coffee coating your senses from the soldier. 

“You will be pardoned. You had no choice back then and we are giving you one now. Pardoned.” 

“And what do you mean by taking them down?” What choice did you have? 

- 

It had been a week with the soldier when he finally showed a small amount of emotion. Insane. 

You had been huddled in the corner of the abandoned hotel you made camp in, keeping close to yourself for warmth as he pretended to sleep by the wall. You knew he wasn’t actually asleep, not trusting enough to do so. And you don’t know when he does get sleep, all you know is you fight to the last possible moment your eyelids can stay open and you don’t sleep long. 

The exhaustion and the cold were beginning to wear you down, a week in and you had yet to kill a single person on this list because the Soldat refused to listen to how you can manage it. With him it’s all silent and watching, your missions were usually more lively. You wore disguises and set traps. Hydra liked sending messages and it’s what you did. 

They want a quick and efficient widow? They send Belova. They want a widow that draws attention to their dangers? A prize possession? They send you. 

Which is why this entire mission is so weird. Why send you if- before you can finish your thought you are being pelted with a warm jacket, the Soldat glaring at you. 

“Your teeth chattering is keeping me up.” He mutters in Russian, sitting up and checking all his weapons. 

“As if you sleep.” You reply back in Russian, rolling your eyes. His eyes flick to you in surprise for just a second before he trains them again, watching the window in the opposite corner. “What’s your name?” 

“Soldat.” 

“What’s your real name?” 

“I….. should the viper be asking questions?” He snaps, glaring once more before you roll your eyes and stand up. He watches your every move as you toss his jacket back and cross the room. “Where are you going?” 

“To be a viper.” You sneer back, enjoying the way the Russian makes the words bite out more. 

He stands up quickly when you move to climb out the window but you send him a glare and descend quickly, making sure he does not follow. 

When you get back three hours later, he is standing in the center of the room with his arms crossed and a glare on his features. 

You simply walk past him to grab your list, crossing off the first name. “Can we get an actual hotel this time? I need to shower some of this blood off.” 

As you move to walk past him his arm shoots out to grab you, pain erupting as he bends your neck to look at him. You would allow this, because is his anger is on you then he won’t look into the 2 little children you helped vanish tonight after you killed their father. 

“You do not make moves without me. Understood?” 

“Yes Soldat.” You try to nod before he lets go. 

“Viper.” He hisses. And you would allow it, because if anyone knew what you had done you would be killed. 

-

The three of you ended up in a warehouse not too far away from the roof you had been scouting on, bucky carrying your bag of weapons on his shoulder as he tried not to look at you while Sam paced back and forth. 

You sat on a fallen beam, seeming bored and uninterested as you picked at your nails. But Bucky knew that was your game, to let the world think you were a valid assassin with little to no care. 

But he knew you cared, he knew how much effort you had put into saving kids back then. You had always been so warm without even realizing it. 

But maybe that all changed, after it….. all happened he hadn’t heard about you again and after he was freed by Steve he couldn't seem to find any of the children you had saved. 

“What happened to them?” He finds himself asking, his chest pinching at the sight of you. His flower. But that look in your eyes, the betrayal and anger….. 

“The first three on my list? I dumped their bodies in the river.” You smile, turning your glare to Sam. “How about that pardon now?”

“The kids. The ones that you-“ you stand before he can finish his sentence , both him and Sam preparing for a fight as you seem to try and ease yourself. 

“What kids?” Sam snaps, anger and protectiveness rolling off of him. “Did you hurt-“ 

“No. She used to smuggle them out.” Bucky explains. “When she got missions if there was a kid in the family she would pretend to kill them, and help the kid out.” 

“I thought hydra confirmed kills by bodies.” 

“Not when you’re the best.” You smile, that vapid venomous smile that made Bucky's stomach churn. “And Soldat is right. I used to smuggle the kids out.” 

His chest hurts at the name you use, but he assumes that it’s fair. “Where are they now?” 

He wants you to look at him, to tell him they are all safe and that he didn’t ruin everything. But you keep your eyes trained away, pain flashing through your features as you explain. “After you…. Told them….. they got the names and locations from me and sent out the shadow widow.” 

“Kaltain Amerie.” Sam nods, recognizing the name. She was married to a fancy rich guy now, had been the one Yelena found. 

“She took care of what I couldn’t. She did the job.” You nod, hands fisting at your sides as the words clang into Bucky. “And I was punished for my failure.” 

“And the missions you got after they caught you?” Sam asks, casting a brief look to bucky at the word caught. 

“I had a partner, and they always made sure I did my job.” Fuck. 

He was going to puke, how many kids had….. 

“You mentioned an alliance. Not an interrogation.” You snap, obviously uncomfortable. “And if you want to revoke my pardon because of-“ 

“I don’t.” Sam says gently, nodding. “And I’m sorry that it happened.” 

“I’m not.” It was a lie and Bucky could taste it. Anything to keep both of them away, that wall you built up when he first met you. 

“Okay. The name on your list. Let’s talk about how to get him.” Bucky changes direction, wanting to get you to ease again, not liking the pain in your eyes. 

You continue to avoid looking in his direction, and he continues to stare at only you. 

- 

She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some

She had the envelope, where you think she got it from?

Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

Picture me thick as thieves with your ex-wife

And she looks so pretty

Driving in your Benz

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

-

It’s a month into the mission when the Soldat tells you his name. 

Gone were the days of sleeping on opposite sides of the room, now you both shared a bed. Gone were the days of him not sleeping, and he was now the one that fell asleep first. 

Tonight being one of those nights, with you sitting against the headboard of the hotel bed, his forehead pressed into your thigh as he falls asleep slowly, letting you play with his hair as you review footage of your next name. The third on the list. 

“My name….” He mutters, this time in English which still shocks you everytime he does. “It’s Bucky.” 

“Bucky?” It tastes like vanilla on your tongue, your chest lightening as you whisper it a couple more times. “I like it.” 

“What’s yours?” 

“My file…. My file says Y/n.” You whisper back and he tilts his head up to look at you. 

“You don’t seem to like it.” 

“I….. it just doesn’t feel real.” You admit. “It feels wrong for me to use it.” 

“I think it’s a wonderful name. It suits you well but… I think you’re my flower.” He murmurs back, moving to press his forehead into your thigh once more and finally lets sleep claim him. 

The next morning you both work in tandem, cleaning weapons, he gives you time to make sure that your knives are still potent with venom as you try to come up with a plan to get the 5 year old girl out of the country without the soldier knowing. 

But the betrayal of it hurts your chest, watching him work around you as a smooth unit. A team. That’s what you had become. 

“Ready?” He asks in Russian, coming up to fix the hair that had fallen out of your braid, using his flesh hand to push it behind your ear as his thumb traces your jaw. 

“Always. You?” 

“With you my little flower? Always.” 

-

It was ironic the way you and the Soldat still worked in tandem, moving with an effortless grace. 

Sam, the captain, watches with wide eyes as you both move around each other. 

“Do we have-“ 

“Yes we have enough intel.” You snap, closing the camera footage the second you spot the young boy running down the hall of the mansion when both him and his mom get home. The pain in your chest could be blamed on the image, and or the stupid soldier standing too close to you. “I can smell your breath.” 

“He ate a cheeseburger for lunch again?” Sam chuckles and you stand straight, giving him wide eyes as the Soldat rolls his own. “You know you can’t get in trouble for calling him an idiot, right?” 

“I’m aware.” Your words come out clipped and you try not to shudder at the way Sam snickers, catching your lie. 

“Say it.” 

“Say what?”

“Call Barnes a dumbass.” 

“I won’t speak to the Soldat.” You reply, moving to clean your knives. 

“Oh come on. Try it. It helps me..” sam laughs, sitting across from you at the kitchen counter as the Soldat shuffles closer to help you clean the knives. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him. 

“You….. are a dumbass.” You squeak out, not looking at him. You hear him snort behind you and he reaches across to grab another knife. You roll your eyes at the way he presses his body next to yours. 

“That was lame. Try again.” Sam laughs. 

“Fine. You’re a DUMBASS!” You snap out, watching both their eyes widen before laughs break out and they start cracking up. 

You feel your stiff spine loosen a little, the anxiety easing as you start laughing as well, all three of you cackling. His flesh hand finds its way to your lower back to keep you stable as you both drop the knives to laugh. And finally, after three weeks of working with them you drop the angry front, and give in to their warmth even though everything in you screams to not fall for it. 

-

“Is this….. proper mission food?” You ask from the spot you had taken at the window, watching Bucky and Sam come in with pizza boxes and beer in their hands, both laughing at each other . 

Bucky had, sort of tripped up on the stairs which sent Sam in a spiral of making fun of him, but the second they laid eyes on you that humor fell out the window, both going quiet. 

“You don’t think pizza and beer are good?” Sam asks, offended. “This is the best combo.” 

“Is it…. Allowed?” You ask again and Bucky feels that pang in his chest before he passes the box to you and opens it smoothly. 

“You get the first slice pick.” He offers and Sam gasps at the counter. 

“That….. oh that’s just cruel to me.” 

“It’s an honor to pick the first slice then?” You quirk your eyebrow, humor written on your face, the spark in your eyes setting him on fire. “This is a New York custom?”

“Oh indeed.” He smiles, pushing the box closer to you. “It would be a great dishonor to refuse this.”

There is a second of discomfort, he watches you contemplate it before you reach for a slice, grabbing the largest slice and raising your eyebrows as you wait to see their reactions. 

“Perfect choice!” Sam grunts, reaching around you to grab another slice. 

“I was going to choose that one.” Bucky smiles, watching you bite it immediately then stick out your tongue at him before taking up a spot on the couch as both of them find their own seats in the living room. You seem tense still, obviously not used to this sort of freedom anymore and his lungs constrict at the thought that this was caused by him. 

Back then you had been so… warm and open. Even as an agent you melted the ice exterior the soldier had around him. And through the muddled haze of his memory every memory attached to you was always crystal clear, like a flame in the fog. 

“So…. you guys knew each other back when he was the Winter Soldier?” Sam asks, popping the lid off of a beer with ease, he leans forward on his knees and pretends to be more interested in the pizza box. Making it seem like he was an open book, a comforting thing. 

“Yeah, we had a long list of enemies that they wanted us to deal with.” You answer, looking to the window rather than either of them. 

“It seems like it went wrong…” 

“It went fine.” Bucky is quick to snap. 

“It was fine. We made it through half the list, before Hydra had to get involved.” You snap as well moving to set the rest of your slice on the plate left on the table for you. “I made a mistake.”

“It wasn’t-” Bucky goes to argue, chest tight.

“I let emotions muddle my task.” You explain to Sam. “I got too attached and ruined it. And then I got caught smuggling the kids out- I was further reported for my behavior and handled accordingly.”

“Hey, this isn’t Hydra.” Sam tries to ease you. “I think what you did was very noble and-”

“All I did was give kids hope where it didn’t belong.” You sneer. “I will never allow myself that weakness again.” 

You cast Bucky a glare, his palms sweating and chest blistering as he watches you disappear into the bathroom and the shower running a second later. 

Sam continues watching Bucky, eyebrows pinched together. “You reported it?”

“I… as much as I broke away at that time I was still under the soldiers spell.” Bucky admits, gulping down half the beer in his hand. “I…. I had sent in a mission report. Well I had to send it in and I had caught her plan a little bit before that.”

“I’m sorry that happened, Buck.”

“I am too.” He sighs. “I got rewarded and she… well they broke her.”

- 

She don't start it, but she can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

She don't dress for friends

Lately she's been dressing for revenge

- 

“You need to be careful in the upper levels.” He warns, keeping his flesh hand on the small of your back as you both move to start scaling the side of the house. 

“I know.” You growl out, keeping your voice low as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. “Don’t be a worry wart.”

“Stick to my side.”

“The job is quicker if I take care of the kids.” You mumble, leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly, the closest you had ever gotten to actually kissing him, no matter how much you wanted to. Three months with him and you were hopelessly in love. 

“Fine.” He grunts out, his Russian sharp. He nods once before moving to his starting point, checking that you had begun scaling the wall to the kids room before heading in to handle the parents. But you had been so caught up in Bucky that you didn’t check to make sure both the children were asleep. 

The girl screamed first, followed by the boy and you began rushing to ease their worries, kneeling by them and trying to swipe the tears away. “No no. Easy my little ones. It’s okay. I just need you to listen-”

But the boy screams again, this time at something behind you which makes you whirl to find Bucky in the frame of the door, watching intently with blood on his arm. 

“No! Please!” You beg, up on your feet and shoving yourself in front of the children as he cocks his head to the side. “Please.”

“Move.” He orders, raising his gun. It seems he’s already assessed the weakness and was willing to handle the problem. “Now.”

“No!” You hadn’t even realized that tears were falling down your face until you could taste the salt, moving forward to grab his gun. “Please!”

“The mission-”

“They are children.” Both of you were speaking Russian, which seemed to be scaring the kids even more as they wailed, and you turned to ease them again. They dash into your arms, holding you tight as they sob. You would die before letting anything happen to them. 

When you turn to see him again you see that he has lowered the gun and is merely staring at you, something sparking in his eyes. 

You wait for the blow, but it never comes. Instead he nods his head and moves to pick up the boy. He helps you get them out, aboard a ship and hidden from Hydra. When you make it back to the hotel you pace a bit, waiting for him to finish you off. 

But he merely stands in the center of the room, watching you closely. 

“I’m sorry.” You sob, hand on your chest as you turn to him finally. “I failed the mission and-”

He moves forward in three easy strides, his hands grasping your jaw to bring you up into a searing kiss, arms wrapping around you tightly as he lifts you off the ground to keep you close. And all anxieties peel away, as he lifts his hand to undo your suit. Giving yourself to the soldier that night, and once you were done you stay huddled together, whispering your dreams of the past and future. 

And for once you felt like…. You were home. 

- 

The next morning tensions were gone, and you seemed to have forgotten about the night before. Or at least you were pretending to, and Bucky didn’t know if he should be happy or angry at the fact. 

You had combed through all the footage of the target, piling it all into a folder and he had sent the flash drive to the people needed that would be able to get him arrested. And after that had been sent you had sent out another envelope to his wife, with proof of an affair so she would be able to divorce him. 

And just like that another name was taken off your list, and Bucky tried not to feel the pressure at the fact that he was sure you would be gone the second the list was done. And he wouldn’t have an excuse to see you anymore. 

He’s lucky Sam went along with this plan in the first place. 

“Where is Sam?” You ask from your spot at the counter, legs crossed as you play with one of your knives, watching him closely where he sits on the couch. 

“He went to go check on his sister and her kids.” He answers, looking up to you. “They are really close.”

“That’s nice.” You hum, dropping the knife out of boredom. “What comes next?”

“You got another name?”

“Are we allowed to start without Sam?” You ask, eyebrows pinching together. 

“Yes. We can. Your list?” 

“Front pocket of my duffel.” You hum out, something having caught your attention. He reaches for the bag and checks for the list as you shuffle closer to his open laptop. For a second he hears you hesitate, but he had already made it clear that you had access to anything so he nods and lets you look as he finds the paper you wrote the list on. 

His eyes skim across the names, landing on the very last name as his heart stops. ‘Bucky Barnes’ , and no matter how many times you blink the name does not disappear. Why did you let him see this? Was this a trap set?

He whirls, only to find you staring at the screen unblinking. “Flower?”

Your head snaps to glare at him as he shuffles closer, shoving your list in his pocket and looking at what had caught your attention. He finds an old sitcom, a scene with a mother curled up with her kids and reading them a bedtime story. 

“You never told me why.” He mutters, sitting on the couch with you on the floor staring at the screen again. 

“Why what?”

“Why did you risk your life for all those kids?”

“Because they… because no one fought for me back then.” You admit, turning to look at him. “What is this show?”

“Full house. I don’t know, Steve put it on my list.”

“Your list?” You ask and he nods. 

“Things to catch up on.” He smiles. “Like the star wars series.”

“The what?” He blinks slowly at your question, purely shocked.  

- 

Three hours later you are both sprawled out on the couch, pillows and blankets thrown about with snacks everywhere. Bucky had dragged you out to the store, buying tons of snacks that you had never tried before and before you knew it the apartment cupboards were packed with snacks and you were preparing to see the first star wars. 

“Should we… have brought all this to the mission base?”

“The what?” He laughs, leaning forward to snatch a gummy worm from the bag you were holding. 

“The… this apartment. Are we allowed to use it for this?”

“It’s my apartment.” He shrugs, and you blink slowly. 

“It’s empty though.” 

“I have a couch!” He scoffs. “And a tv!”

“No bed, no plushy towels or…. This is your home?” You didn’t know why this upset you. “You live like this?”

You want to kill him. You want to kill him. Why does this matter?

“I have a welcome mat.” He points to the door. 

“That’s an ugly welcome mat.” 

“Is not.”

“That would scare away any child on halloween.” You snap. “Are you trying to ruin their halloween?” 

“No one really comes up here on halloween.” He shrugs again. “Why does it matter?”

“You… you’ve been free! You have been free this whole time and this is how you live and- I…..”

“I had other things to worry about besides Hydra. And John Walker. Tony Stark and the snap and- well I was trying to find you.” He admits. 

“You were trying to find me?” Your chest constricts, as you watch him. “You tried to find me?”

“I did but after I was freed it was like they made you completely disappear and I’m assuming it’s because they knew I would start looki-” Before he can finish his sentence his phone rings and he sees Sams name, giving you an apologetic look before picking it up. You take a moment to try and fix yourself, taking deep breaths in. “He WHAT?”

This catches your attention, sitting up to watch him carefully as he stands. “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up and nods. “I gotta go help Sam. Stay here and-”

“I’m coming with you.” You snap, moving to grab your duffel.

“No, we have a situation with John Walker and I need to-”

“I am coming.” And just like that you grab your suit, giving him your best glare as he shakes his head. “You both are helping me. The least I can do is help you.”

“You don’t have to.” He mumbles. 

“But I will. Let’s go.”

- 

Ladies always rise above

Ladies know what people want

Someone sweet and kind and fun

The lady simply had enough

- 

“Thank you.” You whisper, keeping your head on his chest as you trace patterns along his skin. “Thank you for helping.”

“If you got away what would you do?”

“Me? I….. I would find the kids and make sure they made it. I would buy a house and get a cheesy welcome mat for it. I would decorate for halloween and….. And I would adopt a kid and-” You could taste the freedom, imagine it right there. A happy life. 

“That sounds… amazing, flower.” 

You lift your head, smiling softly as you lean up to kiss him, and he smiles back before moving to kiss you back. 

You feel him stiffen before sitting up quickly and reaching for his knife. “Bucky?”

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles. “I’m so sorry.”

Before you can realize the door is blown open and agents rush in to grab you. 

- 

“Oh…. oh I like this duo.” John Walker smiles, watching you stand slightly behind Bucky with your arms crossed. He doesn’t say a word and neither do you, both giving him a good glare. The Winter Soldier and The Viper. “I hadn’t realized that Bucko boy came with his very own sidekick.”

“этот идиот знает, что от него пахнет рыбой?” (does this imbecile know he smells of fish?) You ask, sneering a bit and taking a step closer to Bucky. “и так небрежно использовать свое имя. Я могу сломать этого человека за считанные минуты.” (and to use your first name so casually. I can break this man within minutes.)

“Я с нетерпением жду этого. Еще я очень голоден, мармеладных червячков мне не хватило, чтобы поесть..” (I look forward to it. I'm also very hungry, gummy worms were not a sufficient meal)

You nod, trying not to smile as he gives you a look over his shoulder while Walker shuffles uncomfortably on his feet. “Shouldn’t we all speak english?”

“Maybe.” Sam shrugs. “But I find it’s easier to let these two do their thing. You said something about a raid?”

“There is a train heading down south here in 30 minutes and I know for a fact that there are rebels planning on stealing what’s on it.”

“What’s so important about what’s on the train?” Bucky asks, casting a look towards you and you see him catalog each and every one of your weapons just as he always used to do as the soldat. You give him a glare and he shrugs. 

“Weapons.” John mutters. “And if we can intercept the rebels then-”

“You get your job back?” Sam snides.  John stutters for a second and you snort, enjoying the panic on his face. He glares at you, preparing to say something as you step forward to grab one of your knives. You had no clue who this man was but it was easy to know that he was not an ally. 

“Get your-”

“She’s not a dog.” Sam snaps, as Bucky sneers. “We’ll help, but on our terms. No one gets hurt and no one gets pummeled without cause.”

“Fine. Let’s see what you guys can do.” John sneers at you both, and Bucky sends you an easy smile over his shoulder as you smile back. 

“Устроить им ад?” (Give them hell?) 

“следую твоему примеру, Барнс.” (Following your lead, Barnes) You smile back, both of you swiveling to Sam and moving together. 

- 

You stand with him on a bridge, keeping a hand on his arm to stabilize yourself as you keep an eye on the ledge, fixing the comm in your ear with your other hand as he does the same. 

“I….. I never wanted to betray you.” He blurts, as John tries to convince Sam to give him one of their comms, his argument of ‘I’m part of the team!’ almost making you snort. But Bucky’s words kept your attention as you tried to play it cool. Keeping your eyes trained on the bridge before you. 

“Is this a good time to talk about this?” You mutter in Russian, just in case Walker could hear you both like you could hear him. 

“It was the status report. They were making me do it every month and….. I fought it. I really tried to fight it.” He admits in russian, casting a look to Walker before turning back to you, his hand shooting out to wrap around your arm as you lean to prepare a landing. “Careful.”

“I thought…. You were…. Nevermind it was my mistake.”

“It wasn’t a mistake.” He snaps, pulling you closer. “It… It was everything to me.”

“I shouldn’t have. I should have kept my eyes on the mission and I ruined it and I ruined it for those kids. You were a weapon dangled before me, they knew I would fall for it. They knew I would fall for the freedom of it. And I’m sure they already knew that I was helping those kids and they just needed to prove-” The words are spilling out and you just can’t seem to stop them, tears beginning to fill your eyes. “I just wanted… I just wanted to help them.”

“You did.” He mumbles, moving until his chest is pressed to your shoulder. “Please look at me.” 

“I messed it all up.”

“You didn’t mess anything up-”

“I did. I fell in love.” You finally look at him, tears in your eyes as he takes a deep breath in. 

“I-”

“Incoming.” It’s Sam's voice in the comms that makes you both jump before you look to see the train coming. 

“On it.” You mumble back in english, stabbing a knife into the brick beneath you as Bucky keeps a hold on your arm. 

“Be careful, we’ll be right behind. Keep a knife ready and-”

“I’ve got it.” You laugh, watching the train get closer and closer. 

“I just worry.” He admits, leaning forward to kiss your cheek softly. “And just so we are clear, I fell in love too.”

You try not to smile, giving him one last look before using the chord and launching down as you hear Sam count down in the comms, feet landing on the top of the train with a thud before you dive for the top grate and begin working on tearing it off. 

You manage to tear it off in time to duck and lay flat as a sign under the bridge appears, managing to avoid it before crouching and climbing in as the train breaks from the bridge, three heavy sets of footprints hit the top of it while you climb across boxes to get to the end of the cart. 

“Viper?!” Walker calls, landing in the crate followed by Bucky and Sam. You don’t bother answering, too busy trying to lift the shaft on the cart. 

“You good?” Sam asks, coming to your side. 

“I’m fine.” You mumble. “I can handle the mission sir-”

“Did you just sir me?” Sam laughs, leaning to help you with the shaft, letting the sunlight break in as the wind snaps in both your faces. 

“You guys see anything?” John yells across the way as Bucky hops over a box and reaches you both. 

You have just enough time to turn, ready to bite a response to Walker when you spot the bomb taped to the far wall. Your mouth opens in an attempt to yell a warning but it’s too late. It all blasts to shit. 

- 

There was nothing but pain as you hung suspended in the cell, the Shadow Widow sneering at you from her spot in the corner while Valkov took a break from torturing you. Your breathing is ragged, blood falling out of your mouth with the saliva as your eyes water. 

You can no longer feel your legs, and your fingernails had been torn out first. Sobs racking through your body as he asks the question again, his russian loud. 

“WHERE ARE THE LOOSE ENDS?!!”

You couldn’t betray the kids, you couldn’t do it. So when he picked up the drill you closed your eyes, sobbing once more as you try to blink Buckys face out of your memory, succumbing to your punishment. 

- 

Heat blasts against his back as you scream out, Sam yelling loudly, all three of you grasping anything you can as the train keeps going. 

Bucky’s metal arm finds purchase on a broken handle of the train, trying to pull himself up as Sam grips the side grates of the train trying to activate his falcon wings while you struggle to keep hold of what is left of the floorboard in the train car, nails scraping as you grimace in pain while your legs stay suspended in the air. 

“HOLD ON!” He calls, reaching his flesh hand for you before the metal of the door groans and he has to freeze. 

Walker appears, bleeding from his ears and looking frazzled as hell, but Bucky breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees the idiot reach to help you. Hope that you would make it out of this mess, that is until John stumbles as he reaches for your hand and ends up making you lose your holding. 

You scream out, nails scraping as you slide out, nearly all your body suspended in the air. Both Bucky and Sam scream, reaching for you before they realize they can’t. 

“When does this fucking bridge end?” Bucky snaps, looking down to the hundreds of feet below, memories flashing in his mind. 

“Language.” Sam grunts, exhaling in relief when he sees you manage to grab the final woodboard, your last chance at holding on. 

“Complete the mission.” You snap. “I can get up.”

“We don’t leave each other behind.” Bucky grunts, using his flesh hand to reach for a rope connected to the roof of the train car. 

“Hydra tells us we need to complete the missi-”

“This isn’t Hydra and I’m not leaving my girl on this train.” Bucky snaps and Sam whoops out a loud ‘fuck hydra’ as they both struggle to get to the main opening. 

There are thuds on top of the train and you risk a look to see multiple hooded figures with bags getting ready to ransack the weapons. A grunt of anger passes through you as let one hand free from the board, much to Bucky's chagrin as he yells out for you before you reach and grab your compact launcher you had hidden in the belt of your suit and shoot the roof with the grappling hook, pulling yourself up right in time for Walker to fall back into the car. 

“This manchild is useless.” You sneer, reaching for Bucky immediately, hands grasping his tactical vest and dragging him as much as you can into the train car as Sam struggles to get in as well. 

“There are about 15 figures. We should have about 10 minutes before they blow the rest of this train up.” You explain, keeping your hands on his shoulders as you assess him. “Are you hurt?”

“No I’m-”

“I’m hurt!” Walker calls, making you hiss an unappealing word at him in russian before moving to look at Sam. 

“Do you want the viper or me on this mission?”

“Viper would be nice.” Sam nods, looking at all the weapons. “Viper for sure.”

You nod, turning to assess Bucky one more time before he nods at you and you both begin working.   

- 

While he was doing lines

And crossing all of mine

Someone told his white collar crimes to the FBI

And I don't dress for villains

Or for innocents

I'm on my vigilante shh again

- 

You both work in tandem, every punch he throws shoves the person straight into your kick. You slash your knife at anyone that gets too close to him, slicing their skin easily as he snipes out anyone rushing to the train. 

Sam is finding the rest of the bombs, disarming them to the best of his ability. 

You hiss in pain when you get hit in the jaw, but Bucky is there smashing the butt of his gun to the back of their head as you blink away the tears. His hand finds your jaw, assessing the damage before turning and nodding to the path you guys need. 

“So…. what’s the plan after this?” He asks, huffing as he gets to the slate you had originally been planning on clearing. 

“After this? Probably dinner.” You laugh, bending to break the controls. He adjusts himself so you were back to back, him watching to make sure you were good. 

“I mean…. After this mission.” 

“I….. I want to finish the list.” You answer, tearing out a board to access the rest of the control panel. 

“Does that list still include me?” He blurts, making you freeze. When you don’t answer he looks down to see you already staring up at him with wide eyes. 

“You saw that?”

“On your list. Highlighted and everything.” He nods, snapping his attention to a thud across the way, finding it empty. It was enough to get you back to work, focusing on the wires and buttons again. “I would understand if you wanted to-”

“I don’t anymore.” You snap. “I don’t think I ever would have been able to but it’s not like I planned to make it far after I got out. I didn’t have a plan. Everyone else had a plan and I was left! I was tortured and maimed for wanting that freedom, and when the time came I was the only one that had nothing to live for.” 

You were seething, and he could only agree. He hated the other widows for what they did to you, that would never be forgiven. 

“I wanted a family. That’s all I wanted.” You whisper, finally breaking the right chord. The lights immediately die out and the train lurches as it comes to a complete stop. 

“Is that still what you want?” He whispers back, holding his hand out for you to grab and help you up. 

“I don’t deserve it.” 

“You are the only person in this entire universe that deserves that.” He snaps. “And it’s important to me that you know that.”

“It’s not like I have much of a future open.”

“Well I think you have a bit of a future in the vigilante game if you ask me.” He smiles. 

- 

I don't start it, but I can tell you how it ends

Don't get sad, get even

So on the weekends

I don't dress for friends

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

- 

“I’m sorry, you used to what?!” Sarah laughs, coming around the kitchen counter to grab a bottle of soda from your hand, eyes wide. “Dip your knives in lethal poison.”

“It made things easier. Even if I didn’t hit a vital organ I still knew the job was done.” You explain, shrugging a bit as she laughs. You still got nervous when talking about your past, but Sarah seemed anything but judgemental. 

Sam's sister ended up being your very best friend on this earth, which surprised you to no end. You loved her kids and you loved her. You especially loved girls night because you never thought this would be an option in general. Nonetheless you had friends now. You had a home, with a silly little welcome mat that was left on the porch for the trick or treaters every year. 

The very same one that was getting trampled on every time Sarahs kids ran through with your adopted children, covered in mud and laughing loudly. 

“Hey! Mind your mess!” She snaps out but you can’t stop smiling as you watch your adopted 4 year old chase after one of her sons. 

“What are you up to?” Bucky asks, coming in from the garage with Sam and Joaquin smiling from ear to ear as he rushes to kiss at your jaw. 

“We are getting ready.” You laugh, shooing him away. 

“For?”

“The Eras movie. You have daughters now Barnes. You need to get with the program.” Sarah scoffs playfully, making her brother laugh as they pick up the snacks and head to the living room. 

“Hey…. I just wanted to say thank you for your help on the mission the other day.” Torres smiles before following the rest into the living room leaving you with Bucky. 

“Hear that? Vigilante shit right there.” You laugh, leaning forward to kiss him. 

“Still waiting for you to kill me.” He whispers against your lips, winking before heading to catch your daughter as she tries to dash past, making her laugh loudly and reach for you.

[fluentmoviequoter]

No Dreams in the Wasteland

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader

Summary: Years after Jim left Long Beach, he calls you from Los Angeles, and you do everything you can to get back to him.

Warnings: r and Jim were friends in Long Beach, angst to fluff, song lyrics are italicized

Word Count: 3.2k+ words

A/N: Jim Street owns this album in my mind. After months in my drafts, I hope you enjoy!🤍

“Hey, it’s Street – uh, Jim Street. You probably know that. Or maybe you don’t remember me, I don’t know, I shouldn’t just assume… This isn’t- I’m just going to start over. This is Jim Street. I’ve been thinking about you recently; longer than that, really. I’m living in Los Angeles now; I have a great job and amazing friends. I think I’m finally figuring out this adulting, life thing if you can believe it. I- I’d love to see you, so if you’re ever in LA, give me a call.”

You listen to the voicemail until you have it memorized. Jim Street was an important part of your life, and you loved him before you truly understood what love was. Hearing from him after all this time makes you realize that something needs to change. The nights after Jim left Long Beach were filled with dreams of him, but as life moved on and he did too, you stopped dreaming altogether. Street took a part of you with him when he left, and a surprise voicemail offers a chance to get it, and him, back.

The train ticket clutched in your hand emptied your savings account. Life was never going to be easy, but the decision to spend your last dime on a one-way train ride to find Jim Street again was. You couldn’t sleep during the night leading up to your departure, but when you sit down on the train platform to wait, you close your eyes to think of Jim and how amazing your reunion will be.

A train whistle blowing and wheels turning pull you from your dreamless sleep. Leaving your bag, you run toward the train and raise your ticket over your head. While you rush after it, begging the conductor to stop, memories of Jim run through your head.

It’s over, though, because if you miss the train, no, it ain’t gonna wait for you. Your ticket is nonrefundable, nontransferable, and now it’s nothing more than a useless piece of paper that symbolizes how trapped you are. In a life with no money, you are stuck with no hope and no chance of seeing Street any time soon. Even worse, you realize as you walk out of the station with nothing but your ticket, you can’t even dream of a better life with him because there are no dreams in the wasteland.

The following morning, with no phone, wallet, or future, you set out to find a job. If you can’t visit Street, or even listen to his voicemail again, you’ll have to work until you can. There’s a letter from a debt collector in your mail as you leaf through rejection letters regarding job applications you submitted previously. Falling back in your chair, you sigh and look around your dismal apartment. There’s a piece of paper beside you, and you decide to write a few goals. In high school, you and Jim wrote a list of things you wanted to do in life. It seems like he's working steadily down his list, while you’re stalled somewhere between “graduate” and “get a job I love.” The paper is quickly covered in your goals, and you pin it to the back of your door so you can see it every morning. Three goals will get you back to Jim, and you will do everything it takes to: save all your money, pay off all your debts, and always be afraid of all the failures and regrets. The second part is more of a reminder, but you refuse to get comfortable in your sad excuse of a life without Jim Street again. He’s the prize on the other side of this wasteland, and even if you only get a moment with him, it’s worth everything you risk.

Within a week of the disaster at the train station, you have two full-time jobs, a few hours to sleep each night, the cheapest flip phone you could find, and a growing bank account. Living with your goals and Jim Street in mind, you buy only what you need, and the lack of free time makes it easy to avoid spending money.

On your first day off, after a month of working nonstop, you clean your apartment. There’s a large pile of things you don’t use, and you use your laptop to find a second-hand store that will buy them. It won’t get you much money, but a few dollars in your pocket is the equivalent of a few miles closer to Jim. Los Angeles isn’t far, but there are things in Long Beach that you have to deal with before you leave. Granted, you’re unsure if Jim even wants to see you now. You’re done living without him, you decide as you gather the items to sell, and even if the world’s on fire and you’re dancin’ with the dead, you will find Jim Street again.

As you wait for the employees to examine and price your items, you wait at the counter and open your flip phone. Jim likely doesn’t have your new number, but the fact that he found your previous number makes you hope he’ll reach out again. You didn’t call back either, though.

Someone says your name as the bell over the door chimes. You turn and see a former classmate; a girl who knew you when Jim was still around.

“Jess,” you greet. “Hi.”

“I didn’t know you shopped here!” she says as she pulls you into a hug.

“Oh, I don’t. Just selling a few things.”

“We ladies can always use a little extra spending money, right?”

Jessica laughs and you wonder why she’s talking to you. There’s no reason for her to remember you, let alone be willing to strike up the first conversation you’ve ever had.

“So, did you and Jim ever tie the knot?” she asks. “I always wanted a chance with him, but ya know, girl code. You were so close I’d never do that.”

“Um.”

She grabs your left hand and frowns dramatically. “You didn’t? Or you did? Babe, I’m so sorry, either way. But…”

You prepare yourself for her to ask for his number or to blame you somehow. Everyone’s a stranger, but they’re actin’ like my friends to get what they want, you think. Long Beach has been empty for you since Jim left, and your lonely life is only invaded when someone needs something or thinks you can get them to Jim.

The first employee you spoke to returns, and you cheer internally as you excuse yourself from Jessica. She nods and pats your hand before turning to look at shoes.

“Friend of yours?” the employee asks with a knowing look.

“Something like that,” you reply. “Do you have good news for me?”

“I do actually. Some of this is from designer brands that have been retired; are you sure you want to part with them?”

“Designer?” you repeat. “I don’t have designer clothes.”

“Oh, these have been out of circulation for decades. You’d be surprised how many are handed down or found in thrift shops. Regardless of how you got them, our final offer is $5,000 for all of it. And if you have more, we’re prepared to pay the same rate.”

“Five thou- what are the brands? I can look and see if I have more.”

“I’ll take that as you accept?” the employee interjects with a smile.

“Yes, yes, I accept. Thank you so much. You have no idea how much I need this.”

She winks as she passes you an envelope and a piece of paper with several brand names written on it. You gratefully accept them and place them in the safest zipper in your purse before turning toward the door. Jessica calls out and your shoulders drop as you smile and walk to her side.

“You make good money?” she asks.

“More than I expected,” you answer. “Have a good one, Jessica.”

“No, babe, wait. We should go shopping tomorrow and you can tell me all about Jim!”

“I’ve got to work tomorrow, so maybe next time,” you lie before rushing out of the store.

You will sell all of your clothes if you’re going to get this much money for them. Having two streams of steady income has made a sizeable dent in your debt and rebuilt your savings account, but $5,000 will get you within inches of selling your apartment and buying another one-way train ticket. You won’t fall asleep this time, and you won’t miss the train for any reason, because you’re done expecting people and things to wait for you. This may be the wasteland, but you’re learning that you deserve more, and you can do the work to get there.

After you rip apart your closet again and fail to find more formerly designer clothes, you sit back. The fears, doubts, and insecurities in your head come and go, but you can drown them out in a moment. You close your eyes, and the voicemail from Street plays in your mind and you forget all the voices in your head. Thinking of a man from your past, the man you wanted to be your future, is the secret to forgetting them and remembering who you are.

Several weeks after Street left the voicemail, Luca has grown to anticipate the first words out of his mouth when he returns from late-night motorcycle rides.

“Any messages for me?” Street asks.

Luca shakes his head and says, “Nah, man. I’m sorry.”

Street runs his fingers through his hair and looks longingly at the phone as he sits. “I think it’s time for me to move on, Luca.”

“Dude, you can’t give up on her! Clearly, she means a lot to you; I mean, c’mon, you have dreams about her!”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have confided that,” Street murmurs. “She’s not going to call back, Luca. It’s never going to happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Weeks without an answer typically means there isn’t one coming.”

“You can’t pick who you fall for, Street. Or who you dream about.”

Street stands and slaps his hands against his thighs as he says, “Then I guess it’s time for me to find another dream.”

The refund in your bank account makes you groan. There are more than enough funds to cover the weekly payment to your debt repayment company. You find the number and wait to speak to a representative as you look around your empty apartment. Everything you have left, all that you care about, can fit in a single suitcase, and you’re ready for the moment that you fill the case and leave this part of your life behind.

“I just looked at your account, ma’am, and there is no outstanding balance. The refund was the difference of your payment,” the representative explains. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Are you saying I don’t owe any more money?” you ask incredulously.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Um, yes, one more thing, please. Can you check all of my accounts?”

“I did. They are all at a balance of $0. You have paid off all debts with our company.”

“Thank you!” you cheer before hanging up.

You look at everything even remotely related to your money several times before grabbing a marker and approaching your door. You draw a line through save all your money and pay off all your debts. With an excited smile, you rip the paper down and lay it at the bottom of your suitcase. Once all of your belongings are in the suitcase, you grab your favorite book from the shelf. A picture of you and Street in high school falls out, and you look at it before placing it in your pocket.

After a stop to inform your landlord that you will not be renewing your lease next month and he can sell what remains in your apartment, you arrive at the train station.

“I need a one-way ticket to Los Angeles,” you say as you approach the ticket booth.

“No trains to Los Angeles ‘til tomorrow morning. 9:30 a.m.,” he replies.

“I’ll take it.”

You accept the ticket and sit with your legs over your suitcase. Trains come and go, and you look at the picture of you and Street: a couple kids in the heart of America. Hours pass, and as the sun sets, you know you won’t be able to sleep. You’ll wait forever at the station to go home to Jim Street.

When you step off the train in sunny Los Angeles, you’re suddenly reminded that you don’t know where to go from here. Phone books are a thing of the past, and you’re sure an internet search would be more of a wild-goose chase than anything. Despite this lack of direction, you smile and exit the station in search of a hotel. Once there, you Google Jim’s name and are surprised to see it in several news reports.

“Jim Street of LAPD S.W.A.T. did not comment…” you read quietly. “He did it.”

“I understand that I can’t see him, but could you tell him I’m here? He called me and I couldn’t call him back,” you explain. “Please just tell him?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” the disinterested officer says before turning back to his computer.

You sit in the L.A.P.D. lobby and run your finger over the edge of the picture.

“Officer Luca,” the officer you talked to calls.

You glance up but quickly return your eyes to the photo. It’s your only comfort: the picture and knowing that the man in it is somewhere in the same city.

“Excuse me,” a man says as he steps beside you. “I’m Officer Luca, can you come with me for a moment?”

“Sure, officer,” you answer.

He smiles at something as you slide with photo into your bag. You follow him wordlessly as you wonder if Jim is somewhere in these halls. Officer Luca leads you through the station before stopping suddenly.

“26-David!” he yells.

You follow Officer Luca’s line of sight and watch as Jim Street turns around. He looks at Luca with his brows furrowed before his eyes slide to you. You smile and wave shyly as Street walks toward you.

“Now who’s dreaming about the right girl?” Luca mutters under his breath.

“Hi,” you greet.

Jim smiles and says, “I thought you weren’t going to call.”

“That’s- that’s a long story, but I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he promises. “I have to work until 6, but I meant everything I said. Do you maybe want to get dinner or something?”

“I’d love that.”

“Where are you staying? I’ll pick you up.”

You tell him the name of your hotel, and he types it into his phone for safekeeping. You look between him and his phone, and he chuckles before offering it to you. After creating your contact, you send yourself a text, so you have his number, too. It’s as if a heavy weight is lifted, knowing that you can reach out whenever you want. Street places his phone back in his pocket and looks at you.

“Could I get a hug or something? It’s been years,” you whisper.

Street’s smile grows as he pulls you close. He wraps his arms over your shoulders as yours circle his waist. As he tightens his grip on you, he murmurs that he missed you and never wants the hug to end. You feel the same, but Street is called away, and you leave with a phone number, the prospect of a dinner, and an unspoken promise that things will be different now. Better.

“Officer Luca made it sound like you talk about me,” you say in the elevator of your hotel.

“You never leave my mind,” Jim replies, with his hand in yours.

“Even when you sleep?” you tease.

“Who do you think I dream about? Don’t you have a special someone in your dreams?”

You chew your bottom lip before answering, “I don’t dream.”

“I don’t mean actual dreams.”

“I know. I just- there’s no dreams in the wasteland, Street. And that’s where I’ve been for most of my life. It took everything I had to get here to see you. Why do you think it took me months?”

“What did you do?”

The elevator opens, and you walk silently through the lobby. Street pulls you to a stop on the sidewalk and looks into your eyes.

“I bought a train ticket the day after you called,” you begin. “But I missed the train and didn’t have enough money to buy another ticket. My phone was in my bag, and I left it at the station, so I had no way of calling you back. But because I spent the last of my savings on that ticket, I couldn’t pay my bills on time. It took working several jobs and barely sleeping, but I paid off all my debts. Except for one.”

“Being?”

“Everything I owe you.”

Street sighs and moves his hands up to your shoulders. “You don’t have to repay me for being your friend. When I said I wanted to see you, I wasn’t asking for anything more than your company.”

“I know, Street. My debt is not telling you how I felt before our lives stopped being connected. I wanted to tell you in high school, but I got scared.”

“You know how I felt in high school?” Street whispers. “I was in love with you, but I was terrified of losing you.”

“And now?”

“The same. With a little less fear. After all, you came all this way just to visit me, right?”

“Not exactly.”

Street’s brows furrow, and you smile.

“I left Long Beach. For good. I want to be wherever you are for as long as you’ll let me. I think I’m ready to leave the wasteland and get back to the life I always wanted, with you.”

Street nods slowly and leans toward you as he murmurs, “I think… I want to make up for lost time. The risk wasn’t worth it in high school; I wasn’t ready back then.”

“What do we have to lose now, Street?” you ask.

“More time. Too much.”

He pulls you against his chest and kisses you. The wasteland becomes a distant memory as you move with Street. Everything fades away as you show one another everything that you have felt for one another and communicate that the time apart was hard but worth it to get to this moment. You finally feel at home and like you’re living again. No longer are you living in a world on fire and dancin’ with the dead, but living in a world with Jim Street, where you breathe together, your hearts beat together, and his kiss gives you life. After you pull back, Jim leads you to his motorcycle and pulls you close.

“I could do that all night,” you say.

“I’ve been dreaming of kissing you since sophomore year,” Jim replies. “But that was far better.”

“No more being afraid of all the failures and regrets. I want us, Jim. Forever.”

“Alright,” he says with a dramatic sigh. “I guess I’ll just die every night.”

“What?”

He smiles as he says, “I’ve got a real bad feeling that your lips could kill. But I’ve always wanted to die for a night.”

You kiss Jim again, and the last few months become a memory only of his voicemail and loving Jim from a distance.

Surprise 2nd Song :)

[thewritingofspencerrose]

Little Lady Masterlist

The Lady Hughes

age sixteen

"Jack! There you are!" A small brunette's voice rings through the quickly emptying ice rink, her skates in hand and skating uniform still on.

"Oh, Mags, I was looking for you," The matching head of brunette hair announces, pulling the girl under his arm, having a good six inches on her.

Usually the shorter of the twins would complain of her brother's arm on her shoulders, his body still wet from his post practice shower. Instead, the boy in front of them, the one she had noticed her brother with on the ice, was the only thing she could focus on.

"Mags, this is Trevor Zegras, he's on my team. Z, this is my twin sister Margaret, we call her Maggie though. She's on the figure skating team that practices before us," Jack introduces, not missing the looks they are giving one another. "And she is entirely off limits."

Trevor raises his hands in surrender, not wanting to anger his friend.

"Don't worry about me dude."

age eighteen

"Lady Hughes?" An ever familiar voice asks, stealing my attention from the junior ice skating team that is practicing on the ice. "What are you doing here? The draft's tomorrow, isn't your family flying out with us tonight?"

Two years of him in my life, and with every day he's made it more and more difficult to not want to break the biggest rule Jack and I have.

No dating the other's friends.

"I couldn't leave without seeing them practice. I used to be on this team when I was younger," I explain, his body heat radiating off of him as he takes a seat next to me, hockey bag resting in front of us. "I was hoping it would make it feel more real."

"Make what feel more real?"

"The fact that we graduated a week ago. It just doesn't feel real that I'll be leaving in two months, no more coming here for practice, no more advanced placement, no more living at home," my head starts to spiral.

"We met here two and a half years ago, do you remember that?" Trev asks, the feeling of his eyes on my face as I watch the girls.

"How could I forget? You've been around almost every day since," I can't help but remark, my eyes shifting over to his as he smiles, running a hand through his short hair.

"Things have changed since then, haven't they?" Is his next question, hands hesitantly taking mine from my lap. "I mean, back then none of us had remotely thought about college, you and I hadn't had the chance to be as close as we are, and so many other things, yet we still felt like nothing would change."

He must sense my confusion, because before I even ask he's explaining, "I'm just trying to say, things may be changing, but look how good the things that have already changed turned out."

And I can't help but smile at him, running my thumb along his. "Is Trevor Zegras, NHL draft prospect and Boston University soon-to-be star giving me a pep talk?"

"I'd give you anything you needed," Is his response, and you can tell by the blush on his face that he did not mean to say that out loud.

"I know," I assure. "And I'd do the same for you."

He just nods, looking over my face and I can feel my heart speed up as his eyes linger on my lips.

"We should probably go," I finally prompt, looking one last time to the girls doing their routines. "Knowing you, you still have stuff to pack and our flight leaves in five hours."

"You're right," He agrees, albeit dejected, standing and grabbing his bag before putting his hand out for me to take. "Everything will change tomorrow night."

"You and Jack have nothing to worry about. Alex or Cole either."

"But-"

"What were you just assuring me of Mr.Zegras?" I question, interrupting him. "You have nothing to worry about. The change that's coming will be amazing."

He smiles, pausing with me one last time at the entrance to the rink we have used for years.

And with one last smile, I nod, and he opens the door, the two of us walking out with memories to last a life time.

[baladric]

currently helpin my mom clear the last of her shit out of a house thats been in my family for 29 years so they can sell it, and its just so strange. i didnt get to say goodbye to my childhood home bc my mom moved out and leased it in the space of a month while i was in college, so this is sort of my first farewell to a space i've known so deeply and it's?? such a quiet and baffling grief. esp considering they all stopped taking care of it a while ago so it's in a state of disrepair, and it's sort of gross—but it's this huge, gorgeous house with enormous windows and soaring ceilings, and it used to be so warm and comforting and full of people. and now every room but the guest rooms and the formal living room (i know, i know, the money skipped my nuclear group) are cavernously empty, and it's just me and my mom and brother here, and the birds are all gone bc the birdfeeders went to my mom's apartment months ago, and like. i understand haunted houses so much more now. it feels haunted, bc it feels bereft. no handfuls of kids screaming in the bathtub after a day out, no smell of sunscreen and lakewater, no one making the weird cornbread my grandpa liked with the whole peppercorns in it, or tv news hour goin in the living room, or insufferably academic bickering over the dinner table. just us, three quiet people, haunting our own selves. my brother and me making falafel and having our own insufferable conversations about warhammer and tommy tallarico and the continuity of discworld (foreign words to a house that has only known doctors and phd'd geographers and hobbiest triathletes, not an artist among them but us, not an angry radical but us, no one like us since our father stepped out this door for the last time 27 years ago), while our mom sits quietly, looking for the one optimistic nuthatch that noticed her return to the porch and came back to check for bird seed. weird little week. weird little family.

weird little (big) house with its aunts fussing at me to polish silver (i know, i know, i still went home to the power company threatening to turn the lights off and picked my mother up off the floor at 2 am when she fell again), and its sighing drafts in the rafters (i never did sleep very well here, not until now, not until i understood that there were scarier things than what i made up in my own mind and learned to trick myself into safety), and the closets i hid so well in that my cousins could never find me (do i even need the parenthetical here, no, not really.) weird little scrapbook memories. weird little life.

[slut4sway]

Anywherebound / Chapter V : drowning in our fiery river

If I had a chance, babe To go back in time, maybe I'd try a time or two This life took you in, babe The same life that reminds me I could never love me like you do

•

The best things in life are free and need to be let go

So take one last good look Let's share one last cigarette I'll be gone by the time you're ashin' it Stop askin' things you know the answers to There ain't no world in which I am good for you

And we're layin' on the roof of my car Feelin' young, feelin' numb, feelin' starved Of all the things a moment can be This one's best kept a memory How the kindest parts of my mind are you and me

•

❤️‍🩹•••••••••••••••••••🏜️

Trevor's journal entry: i don't necessarily miss the old you. more of the way you made me feel. the old you wouldn't have been able to keep up with this. the old you were too innocent, hardly jaded. i kind of miss being like that too. ill savor every last burning glow until we are man enough to set this alight.

notes : remastered version of zach bryan's this road i know poem in here!

6/3/23

10:07am

One week since the interaction after the party that had happened.

7 days. 8 hours. 24 minutes; and the seconds counting down at abnormal haste. The days have just been wasting away, and empty promises were broken despite not having anything to be broken. Since the draft year, everything has just been numb. Sure, being able to play together again which they always dreamed of as a kid was nice, but there was always some unexplainable void missing.

History with Trevor and Jamie is like a giant fucking rollercoaster. One night they were the average boy duo, and the next Jamie was in Trevor's bed and vice-versa. Doing stupid shit never changed, though. Whether it be running around abandoned buildings, doing drugs laced with a ton of dangerous substances Trevor found off the street that should've killed them, or in general just fucking around; nothing ever seemed to change. Just an endless cycle of ups and downs that deceived and ruined them to the point trusting anything good was impossible since it would be so unpredictable where it would end up. Juxtaposition is a way to describe it, not knowing where the road leads but knowing exactly where it ends.

It's like a premonition that someone would get late at night lying in their bed endlessly pondering the purpose of their souls being on this fucking floating rock. These fever dreams, a vision of sorts were hard to figure out; not knowing why but knowing exactly why. When not knowing where the hell someone could be but knowing exactly where. Feeling the gravel underneath the tires. Where it's pitch black, and the car is warm but still able to feel the cold November night air, and the presence of someone who isn't there. Driving for the longest time and all that's visible are the high beams burning down the highway, for what seems like growing perpetuity. Where everything is empty and hopeless and desolate and nothing is around for miles beside the particles of dust swirling around in the headlights like moths drawn to a light. Where being lost and knowing exactly where the destination is; is just custom. The nothingness keeps the car and that someone safe, warm, and driving until they see a small porch light glowing in the distance; a low one burning dim that grows closer and slightly stronger while it flickers. The closer that someone gets the more they see, enough to make out a house with fairy lights strewn inside. Several familiar cars with windshields frosted over that looked like they hadn't been disturbed for days until a faint song that someone can't make out the name but they know every lyric. They start to feel, noticing their disassociation dissipating away and the feeling in their feet coming back. It's cold and they're crunching on the thin layer of snow blanketing the area that stretched for miles and miles and miles, just letting their feet take them from muscle memory. The wind takes the sound of their breath with it, and they make it up to the door and they knock when they feel they don't have to. Not knowing where they are but knowing exactly where they are. The crack of fairy lights inside widens on the doormat laid on the porch that just seems to welcome them without needing any design on it; just the dusted footprints smudged across the scraggly fur of it being lit up by the lights. A boy opens the door, with the biggest smile the world ever could have witnessed if they were there. Some boy that someone could not know yet know so well, with the warmest and most approachable home they'd ever seen. It's warm-toned and comfortable-looking, with a fire and the bulb-lit living room.

''Where have you been? I've been waiting for you all night? I missed you?'' He says, tapering off the sentence with a peaceful sound that a boy his age makes; finding peace in whatever post-adolescent and mature rage he had. Grabbing them by the forearms and pulling them into the living room; there are people. They're content, and they're happy; people someone who has no idea who they are but know exactly who they are, laughing at a joke they'll never hear again. He tucks his head between his collar and jaw, but there's no weight at all. It's laughter and grins and no tomorrow to fight for since it will be waiting for them. Where someone doesn't know where they are but knows exactly where they are.

The someone is Trevor. He knows exactly where he'd end up if he kept up with these habits, and kept up with Jamie.

Jamie was crushed cans of IPA's and Coors Light. He was a liquor-soaked, smoke-choked jacket a boy would give someone after running from the cops after a party and hiding out in the woods behind their house. He was a scratchy cheek stubble and ''Oh, Trev..'' when Trevor would do something dumb. He was days of not leaving his house, hotboxing his old bedroom in his childhood home, and laughing off his high with Trevor by his side, following suit. He was months of not taking care of himself and letting himself get pale and skinny. Sometimes a silence, and sometimes too much noise. A strange laughter that could make him laugh while trying to be the tough guy, until there was no more laughing and he was walking away as the door slams for the 17th, 18th, 19th, time. He was fighting Trevor every night, and he was the guilt and responsibility every time he relapsed because Jamie couldn't control his emotions and mood swings. Jamie is the need to help but then lands himself in another shitty situation. He was the boy that Trevor's mom loved and said he talked about 24/7, and that he was a keeper. He was told by Trevor he was worth it, and he is the constant thought of: ''Do you still think that?".

Trevor was 3am, climbing through his window, ounces of weed, and blowing smoke out into the chilly northern air. He was the truth in his words when he promised he wouldn't leave him, because no matter what Jamie would do or how many times he left him; he couldn't stand living without him, since that dark-haired shy Canadian boy was a piece of him he needed to function. He was bottles of emptied liquor. He was pouring out both Jamie's and his alcohol every time they tried to detox and attempt to quit. Trevor was the loud-mouthed boy who came running back to Jamie, smirking with a busted lip because he was so damn cocky and annoying. He was the boy Jamie's mother would hear about for hours on end, about how much he loved but hated him. He was the one Jamie always had under him. He was the one Jamie loved, but the one they grew sideways and into each other, and instead of growing healthy and strong as they should; their worlds collided and the gates of hell seemed to bust open. But most of all, he was the boy who wore the jacket that Jamie was.

They used to work. The same cycle of ''I'm sorry's'' and ''I love you's'' and ''We'll do it for real, this time's'' always seemed to cut it. Same goddamn cycle.

Wash, rinse, fucking repeat.

•

''Sorry for um.. everything really.''

sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry

Jamie tried to cut that word out. He was never really sorry enough to break the pattern. It just came back; tougher, meaner, and stronger with the apathy his false apologies held and released.

Trevor's fiery, slowly dimming hair and unruly curls curtained over his eyes. Jamie's voice clouded over in his head until he could make out his face that was tattooed in his brain. Disassociation, everyone calls it; feeling light and heavy at the same time, where nothing feels natural but they feel too real to exist.

The younger boy reached out his hands to touch Trevor's, as he lay next to him in the bed of the truck. His big hands; so chapped and methodical with speckles of coke in his fingernails reached out to stroke Trevor's soft, bitchboy hands. Trevor was a bitch. An annoying little bitch. Jamie's bitch.

He made eye contact with Jamie, as the summer Californian sun beat down on them. The dark-haired boy's face was like a picture or a polaroid photograph plated in gold around the edges. Trevor stared at him, his eyes heavy and half-lidded. It was so hot out, Jamie's idea to hang out on the foothills was such a shitty idea. Hot enough that they were wishing they had a river to jump into and get rid of all their worries

A river that would hurt so much to make; the pain was nagging and constantly following them around like a lost puppy. All at once, breathing like a bull in a rodeo chute, the pain would rush in and pull them under fiercely until all they could do was drown.

''You aren't. Stop bullshitting me.'' Trevor said with an unkind, rough rasp. Because when someone loves someone else, they shouldn't need to say sorry, right? They shouldn't have to even do anything worth apologizing for. But hey, newsflash boys; not everything is so happy-go-fucking-lucky like the movies. It was all a goddamn blur. Every night blended together with the hangovers caused by each other's mistakes. Where might someone put a person who apologizes to them for wrongdoing? The dead, the alive, the ones that hover like ghosts. Trevor is alive after giving Jamie every last piece of him; staying with him thick and thin even if that meant piercing the veil he wore to protect himself. He's alive, but more like a soulless corpse that walks around acting and looking like a zombie. With his sunken, dark-circled eyes and watching the world from a distance. Even with Jamie where the world seemed like it was coated in gold, it was just a glimpse of what could've been. Some people just don't work.

''I try to be. I want..'' Jamie trails off, gazing at Trevor with a longing look.

''Us. Do you want us...?'' The kindest parts of Jamie's heart is with Trevor and Trevor only. Nobody reads him the way Trevor does. Nobody has stuck with him the way he does. He's the part of his mind he keeps wrapped tightly together with layers and layers of protection around. If he had the chance, he would somehow change the road that lead to the shape they were in, in a heartbeat. He's so starved for Trevor. So. Fucking. Starved. There is no world they are good for each other, and the hope they could create one is long gone by now.

''Quit asking questions you know the answers to.'' Trevor wants them. More than anything. Nothing can change the past and how much they broke each other, and trying to pick up the pieces just cut their hands to shreds.

''Yeah. Sorry.''

sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry

Jamie and his sorry attempts. He wishes he could just brush the hair from Trevor's face and tell him: sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry.

Trevor hasn't left yet, but there's still a distance between them. A void where everything has been lost, and fed back into the blur.

''...I don't wanna leave. I don't. I fucking don't. But you made me realize we aren't good for each other. We just don't.'' The breeze of the foothills swayed Trevor's hair, and took his choking voice with it.

''I know, but I don't know if this will be the last time cause-''

''Just shut up. I don't wanna hear it. Just wanna spend what time I have left with you before my clock runs out and I have to get my ass up and bring myself back home; and god.. sort out shit with the league and all this..'' His words were endearing yet aggressive because he wanted to stay with Jamie, even though he had a deadline with him. God knows Jamie hates deadlines. Trevor interlaced his fingers with Jamie, breathing in the scent of booze and weed as he tucked his head between the younger boy's collar and jaw. Trevor felt electric for the first time in a while, like the same electric blue in Jamie's dead eyes.

''What even happened? I wanna know what the fuck happened.'' Jamie blurted out, trying to close the dam and keep the river of words from flowing out over Trevor and drowning him.

''I know, but I don't. My guess is we got too fucked up somewhere on the road, maybe when our first season started. I think we might have just gotten a little too buzzed to the point where nothing was fun anymore. Yeah, we fucked a ton and whatever, but we stopped having fun a long time ago. I kind of miss getting mad at you over stupid shit, like pokemon cards or something the way we used to as kids. When we were simple, ya know? How we wouldn't be getting eaten alive by the question of why? Now I kind of feel better, cause I know why. Life was stressful when we first started, and my depression spiraled with yours and we just got so filled with anger and emotions we couldn't explain where we pushed each other away then came back, drank a little, smoked a little, was toxic cause we could never love each other if we didn't love ourselves. Life is just full of random shit nobody can explain. Ain't it funny?'' Instead of the world caving in above them, it seemed to open up. Trevor opened the locked door that hid what their problems really were, and this could be huge if they didn't fuck it up.

''Mhm... guess it is.'' Jamie's apathy never was so fucking fake. Inside, he knows what he could've done to prevent those problems. Fixing himself instead of leaving Trevor the responsibility until the weights cracked his collarbones and made him relapse.

Not fucking up starts with what Trevor said; loving themselves first. That would mean leaving each other for a while, at least enough time to glue themselves back together. It's hard to pay attention to oneself when someone they love is out there dying because they couldn't bare the thought of being alone, much less the unexplainable emotions.

Maybe it would hurt a little less when they left, but for now, they had to stick to remembering the good times. The hickeys were in only places they could see. The cute dates they would go on when they were young and simple. Trevor settled into Jamie's space even more, breathing in his scent as they laid in the back of their truck. Hopefully, it would be enough.

Go ahead and share a bottle, boys.

They'll both be packed and ready to leave by the time it's drained.

[ezamevolni]

Jin's enlistment

Edited: for language :)

The other shoe finally dropped. Amidst all the commotion of public backlash, spineless officials, I think everyone knew they were going to go. It was really the best call they could make, considering the deal from the government was to have them have concerts (all profits go to the gov) for 3 years??? Who the heck do they think they are?

The Busan expo was already a political fiasco considering Busan was not a strong contender for the bid but officials insisted on BTS putting on a concert in honor of the country...turns out BTS weren't quite on board initially and gov workers actually visited the guys' families to convince them...then the venue picked was unsafe for such a large crowd and it turned out that the mayor picked it because he and his wife owned that land and BTS will increase the property value...and then when Hybe tried discussing the concert costs with officials they pushed the responsibility around and still haven't come to a decision on who will shell that money...and was dangling the promise of BTS working for 3 years if all goes well with Busan.

(Plus that physical show of disrespect when the government officials at the Busan press conference were grabbing the members' arms and waving them like they weren't human beings....my anger is rising again)

BTS as always doesn't step to others' tunes.

A couple months ago, the situation looked like the government were playing them like puppets, but they had their plans all along. That announcement was drafted and ready to go. The timing was perfect. It was after giving a highly publicized free concert, their last hurrah as a team before the next contract expiry, and with a couple of days for fans to enjoy the concert afterbuzz. It was slow enough that they showed care for fans, and fast enough that the government wouldn't be able to say anything anymore.

And to think their latest offer is for BTS to both enlist and be able to work (hold concerts, release songs) for 3 years. Wtf. Wt actual f. That's worse than their initial offer which was to just have BTS work for free? Now they have to do both???

Not to mention armys are now uncovering that the current president didn't serve because of some very treatable eye condition. And the famous soccer player SHM served for 3 weeks total after getting exemption for winning a gold medal at the Asian Games. The news of BTS serving is even reaching the non-fans in various countries and the reaction, expectedly, is bemusement.

Overall, the true effect of this whole fiasco is that fans will stay steadfast by BTS' side and are now privy to the unflattering sides of the SK public and government. This is actually quite detrimental to what they've been trying to do...ride BTS' coattails and promote other aspects of SK. BTS' fame is widespread enough that a lot of people will hear of this whole debacle and make their own judgment on the players involved. Like some countries' political images aren't as bad on the international platform because they've managed to limit awareness locally. Now they've chosen to touch BTS...it's just a bad move overall.

Not saying SK gov had a clean image before but the scale of awareness now is going to be a lot bigger and worse amidst young people. And we armys have an annoying long memory. I for example, am still boycotting b-flea.

I really think the government should have stayed quiet instead of throwing out yet another slave contract at the guys after BH's announcement, or backtracked a bit and apologized for the dragging out of announcements. Right now, they just look plain greedy, and are completely ignoring Armys' and BTS' wishes.

As the guys enlist one by one, this negative sentiment is going to be brought out each time amidst our sadness to see them disappear for 1.5 years.

No one would hate on BTS or SK, but the political side...at the very least, it's gone from 'no thoughts head empty' to 'definitely unlikeable' in numerous new opinions.

Argh, not to mention the likely harassment the members will get from other soldiers. They better give BTS special treatment for privacy purposes.

So many (probably) politically incorrect things I'm saying in this rant but as a fan, this is how I feel and I'm just upset at how their own countrymen are still trying to suck their blood after such a long period of haranguing them and downplaying their achievements.

Once again, BTS continues their story with trials and tribulations. I guess I'll thank the SK government for adding an arc to the movie. Now that the guys announced their enlistment, all that negativity from the public are now moot and embarrassing.

Really. Hating on them before the chickens hatch?

[riaayumirza]

The Price of Saving Money, Losing Weight, and Chasing Stability

Gosh, too bad that I can't put the background song "Baby, I'm Yours" on this post :D

_____________________

I'm gonna talk about my personal experience, and this post reallyyyy has nothing to do with academic purposes ^^ I wrote this first draft in my notebook on Feb 2024. ____________________________

So, in the last 2 months (Dec 2023 - Jan 2024), I think I was in my depression mode. Like, I didn't go out, didn't talk to people, didn't do anything, didn't want to eat (except when I was about to faint), and didn't want anything. I was just there. Floating in some kind of realm between reality and emptiness. Dissociating for most of the time.

I was rotting lying in bed, I ate a little too close to just survive, I isolated myself at work, it felt like I couldn't trust anyone, and the worst part was I hated myself.

That was the situation of my depression mode. we're not gonna talk about the cause, but more like what's the effect of this situation :D

_________________________________________

The Result and The Effects? 1. I can save more money than usual 2. I lost weight 3. I didn't know what people do and all the shit that happens TBH, those 3 points were on my Wishlist. The wishlist that I thought what I needed to be happy. Having more money, being skinnier, and being alone out of being everyone's problem.

and now I have it. Does it make me happier? Absolutely Fucking Not! _____________________________________________

These past few weeks, I'm trying to learn to open up myself again I'm starting to talk to my friend again (I miss the smile and laugh) I'm starting to go out again I'm starting to clean my room I'm starting to make some content on my social media again I'm starting to play again with Ishtar (my keyboard) I'm starting to journal again I'm starting to go to the gym (tho just walking on the treadmill) I'm starting to eat again I'm starting to cook or buy groceries again I'm starting to online shopping again (my fav) and little by little I'm starting to feel like myself again I'm starting to open myself up and trust again

and it comes with a price too.

_____________________________________________

You see, when you do things, go out, or hang out with friends, it costs you money. And most of the time it will involve food, so there are calories as well ^v^ And when you are a part of a community, it makes you feel warm and supported, but the conflict and drama are a bundle package you have to take. But Does it make me happier? Does it make me feel alive? Does it make feel something? OFC YESS !!!!! Since I (am trying to) get out of depression mode, maybe I can't save more money, maybe I'm gaining weight again, maybe I will be involved in some drama (or be a part of the happiest moment of their life, or get my heart broken, or turn out to be a great story/ memory when I'm older, or be a random adventure of a lifetime)

But I think it's worth it. I think Life is about that. The price of being alive and living life. Go out with your friend to laugh together with good food and a warm feeling, it's worth the price Have a nice meal in the sunshine, it's worth the price Open up and trust people, it's worth the price

____________________________________________

I think I learned my lesson. I want to live, I really do. I want to have a good time with myself and all the people that I love.

[mirahuyooo]

Studio Dates | myg

Studio Dates

— Nothing beats spending the late hours in your boyfriend's studio. 

Word Count: 857

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Content/s: FLUFF, established relationship, studio date (duh), MiN YOONGI—affectionate and sOFT Min Yoongi, some wholesome feels, suggestive themes (GASSPPP such sin), it's implied that you have a hand kink (we all do) but Yoongi doesn't question it (LmAO)

[masterlist] 

A/N: this has been in the drafts for a whileee I haven’t been able to do a lot of writing so here’s all I have (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`)

ALSO, am i going to be stubborn and consider that anything under 1k words is a drabble when it's supposed to be called flash-fiction and drabbles are specifically 100 words only??? Yes :DDDD enJOY BOYFRIEND YOONGI!! (this is me and my random 3 AM thoughts admiring Yoongi's hands stfu)

In silence, you sit with your boyfriend in his studio, the both of you doing idle work and simply basking in each other's presence. Most days were spent like this, and neither of you mind. 

There's a comfort, really, in knowing that the other was there. It was this way that you get to spend time with him without feeling like a burden for taking too much of his work time. Yoongi finds the same sentiments in being able to spend time and not feeling like his work is tearing his relationship apart. Fueled by this comfort, you both also tend to have more motivation to get more done (sometimes—other times not really. You both can get very distracting to one another)

And so, here you were, flipping through a textbook and sending information back and forth with your groupmate for an upcoming project. All the while, Yoongi does his magic on his desk not far from you, a faint melody coming from his headphones. 

On the table before you was a mug you had abandoned at some point, the tea inside having gone cold. This meant that it's been quite some time after the little snack break you had, and considering the fact that your boyfriend had refused your gracious offer to munch on a sandwich with you then, you knew well Yoongi was working on an empty stomach by now. On his desk, he even cradles a similar mug to yours with probably similarly cold tea in it. 

You send one last text to your classmate, telling her to let you know about her findings and that you were going to eat dinner now. With your phone no longer of use, you set it down to stand up and stretch, a groan leaving your lips as you did so. 

It doesn't take much to go over Yoongi's swiveling chair and rest both hands on his shoulders. You lightly pull him away, and your boyfriend readily takes this as a signal to take the headphones off and turn his attention to you. 

"Food break," you simply tell him, before glancing at the clock. “It’s around dinner time now actually.” 

Yoongi nods, hand lightly tugging you down by the loop of your jeans to settle on his lap as the other reaches for his phone. "Do you want to order in or should we go out?" he asks, voice a little hoarse from being unused for the past few hours. 

A light huff escapes your lips—a product of all the hours your project drained out of you. you ease back into your boyfriend, not at all having any plans to leave the particular seat you were given. "In," you reply, now quite comfortable.

Yoongi is quick to pull up a food delivery app, scrolling through options. "What do you want?" he asks as his other hand snakes over your tummy.

You could very well fall asleep in your place—if his touch wasn't making you feel giddy tingles in the first place. "I'm craving something Italian," you managed to say, head filling with the soft memories of your previous dinner date at home. "Something like the pasta you made last week."

Behind you, Yoongi smiles, replying only with a hum and leaving you to your own devices as he complies.

You take the time to relish in the sensation of being in Yoongi's arms. Your head rested back onto his shoulder as his frame embraces you from behind, your body fitting right into his. In his hand was his phone while the other fell prey to your clutches. 

You look at every detail of his hand—the veins that laid across his skin, the shape of the fingers you knew very well, the palm that conquered yours—and you come to a shameless conclusion. "Your hands are so pretty, Yoongi," you tell him, voice soft and dazed. "I don't know if I want to hold it or suck it."

A second or two passes, him processing the words you just uttered into existence, but you soon feel him chuckle behind you. A lingering kiss was placed on your temple, your boyfriend not asking any further questions. "You can always do both, jagi," he nonchalantly concedes, unbothered as his hot breath fans your skin and sends shivers down your spine. 

"I like the sound of that," you muse, earning yourself a half-hearted scoff. There's a giddy grin of mischief that seizes your smile, but you neither hold nor suck his hand. Instead, you bring it to your lips and plant a soft kiss on the back, hugging the arm close to your chest. 

You were in no rush to worry about what to do with his hands or him. He is yours, after all. 

Finally finishing the order details, your boyfriend sets his phone down and wraps the once occupied arm around your middle. You were now effectively being snuggled. "Food will be here in 30," he tells you with a kiss to the cheek, earning a grumble from your stomach. In spite of the hungry protest, however, you and Yoongi chuckle. 

Aah yes, you wouldn't change this for the world. 

[hockeyshitandstuff]

Are you in town? - Matthew Tkachuk (part 3)

part one here

part two here

This is the last part of this mini-series and I hope you enjoyed it! Requests are open btw, so don’t be afraid to ask for an imagine with any NHL player :))

Word count: 1464 words

TW: mentions of sex, language

...

The thing that woke you up was the bright light shining through the windows.

Shit. What time was it? You probably should have been already working - for hours.

As you looked around yourself, you started realizing this wasn’t your apartment. Everything here looked so blank and expensive and then you remembered that-

That you kisssed Matthew while he was drunk. That you fucked Matthew while he was drunk.

You groaned silently, still too sleepy to actually cry. What had you done?

You thought you were okay with staying just friends. But here I am, you thought to yourself as you climbed out of the bed.

Your body felt sore and relaxed at the same time. It was a long time since you slept with someone and actually enjoyed it like this. And even though you should be ashamed of yourself, you let yourself enjoy that feeling.

Just then you realized that the other side of Matt’s huge bed was already empty and cold. There was no sign of him in the living room or in the kitchen - he probably left a long time ago, maybe already preparing for his upcoming game.

But the smell of him lingered on the sheets like a distant memory, bringing back the thoughts of yesterday's events. His hot skin touching yours, his warm breath caressing your breasts...

Shit.

Just... shit.

And so you put on your yesterday’s clothes, write a quick note for Matt and leave his apartment without looking back.

...

It’s been two weeks since you woke up at Matthew’s apartment. Since then, you ignored his calls and texts, pretended you weren’t home when he knocked on your door and worked overtime when he waited for you at the reception.

Yes - it’s not ideal but it worked for 14 whole days. And it gave you some time to think.

As you were leaving your office, thinking only about going to bed, you realized you didn’t check if Matt was waiting for you - but too late. A hand gripped lightly your elbow, making you halt in your tracks.

“Y/N, why the fuck are you avoiding me?”

He sounded a bit angry but mostly tired and hurt. He looked tired, too - those were dark circles under his beautiful eyes.

And you just stood there, trying to come up with a good enough excuse.

Because we fucked, Matthew, you wanted to say. Because I love you and I’m afraid you’re gonna break my heart. Because I don’t want to lose you or our friendship. But wouldn’t avoiding him for a few more weeks destroy your friendship as well?

“You can’t- you can’t just leave, Y/N. What happened happened and if you want to, we can ignore it but you can’t just keep walking around it. You can’t just leave like I did all those years ago. And I’m so so sorry I did so and it’s totally my fault if you feel like I might do that again but you have to trust me that I have no reason to do so.”

Matthew looked... scared. Was it because he was afraid you’d leave him behind? Afraid of tasting his own medicine?

You still didn’t know what to say. You wanted to believe all he was saying but the memory of you crying when he abandoned you was still playing in your head. He did so just because of some stupid promise he told nobody about. What’s stopping him from doing so again?

“I panicked when I came back home that morning - I went shopping because I had no food at the apartment and I wanted to make you a perfect breakfast. And when I came back, you were gone and all you left behind was a note with only one word on it - goodbye. So yeah, I panicked. Of course I panicked. And I know I’m the reason you did it but I have no idea how to make things right. I don’t know how to make you trust me like you once did...” Matthew tugged at his curls, his hair all messy. He let out a sigh, trying to avoid your searching gaze.

"Matt-" you stopped your arm from touching his hair even though you wanted to comfort him so badly. It'd be so easy to let yourself trust him. Too easy; and that scared you more than anything. "I need time. Just- just take me out for dinner or something. We'll take things slowly and then we'll see how that turns out."

He looked at you as you spoke, watching the shape of your lips while nodding slowly. A small smile formed on Matt's lips and he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. Your cheeks went red a bit as you realized he'd do whatever you needed and won't ever ask for more than you're prepared to give him. The night two weeks ago wasn't your fault; it was yours. Matthew was drunk and never forced you to do what you did. It was you who ruined things.

"Do you have time right now?"

"Yeah, I guess." you answered, smiling up at him.

"Then I'll take you out for dinner."

Hand in hand, you realized it'd be so easy to get used to the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

...

A month later, Matt took you to a lunch with his family. It was a long time since you've seen any of his siblings so you were super excited - but also super nervous.

You two took things really slow. Matt took you out every day if he had the time and hasn't even kissed you once. Sometimes, you wanted him to do so. Sometimes, it was the only thing you could think of.

The nostalgia hit you as soon as you saw Chesterfield again. You closed your eyes, already knowing where would the car turn on the road. You kind of missed this city - it reminded you of your childhood and of Matthew.

He was sitting next to you, driving the car, one hand on the steering wheel and the second on your thigh, drawing cirles on your jeans.

"Do they remember me?" you asked, your eyes still closed.

"Of course they remember you," Matt murmured and sang a few lines of the song playing on the radio - your song, one from the playlist on the USB that was hidden for years in the time capsule.

After Matt got drafted, you stopped talking to his family. You were mad at all of them even though it was a stupid thing to do. But now as an adult, things would be different. Yeah, you probably could be mad at Matt's dad for all the things Matt wrote you in that letter but... He only wanted his son to be happy - you'd probably do the same.

So, when the car stopped, you got out and greeted his family as nicely as you could. It took you some time to recognise Taryn as she hugged you, because last time you saw her, she was just a kid. And now... She and Brady were both adults.

"Nice to meet you again, Y/N," said their mom, Chantal as you shoot hands. Her husband smiled at you from the table where all of them were already seated and Matthew wrapped one arm around your waist as he pushed back the chair for you.

Everyone talked, laughed and enjoyed the autumn day with bright smiles on their faces. None of them seemed to mind your presence and you felt like a part of this happy family.

Halfway through the lunch, Matt pushed his chair closer to you as he whispered into your ear:

"What are you thinking about?"

You looked at him, at his bright eyes and eased smile. At the way he touched your hand and tucked your hair behind your ear. And you realized how much he cared for you and that there was nothing that could keep you two apart this time.

No more tiptoeing. No more 'taking things slow'.

"I'm thinking about how I trust you more than I trusted anyone in my life. I'm thinking about how I love you more than I loved anyone in my life."

His smile was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. It was full of love and care and you didn't realized you were crying until Matt wiped the tears off your cheeks.

"You want to know what I'm thinking about?"

You simply nodded.

"I'm thinking about our future and about how happy you make me, Y/N. I'm thinking about how lucky I am that I can call you mine. I love you so much, Y/N." he whispered, taking one of your hand in his and intertwining your fingers.

"I love you too, Matt. And I promise I will never say goodbye to you."

[s0ulm8s]

boys like you (1.0)

✿ summary : alone and left in a mansion with nothing but your canvases and the dust slowly collecting on the window sills - a commission and a call from a childhood friend completely changes your life.

✿ genre : ot7 x f!reader, poly au, hybrid au, soulmate au, deer!seokjin, black panther!yoongi, great dane!hoseok, wolf!namjoon, calico cat!jimin, tiger!taehyung, bunny!jungkook

✿ warnings : mentions of death, maybe some mentions of assault, some fluff, reader is described as small (i.e smaller than jimin), slight age gap (reader is younger than jungkook)

✿ word count : 2.2K

✿ author’s note : i am inexperienced in hybrid aus, smut, and series so pls bare with me (not proofread yet)

✿ series masterlist! | 2.0

making yourself buckle down and work on the piece in front of you had proven to be more of a task than you had originally anticipated. the wide expanse of blank canvas you had stretched yourself 3 weeks ago, mocked you from the the sun room. it was only four days before you had to deliver your piece that you had really forced yourself to pick up a paint brush and do something useful.

the endless days spent alone in the vast building you now called home was doing a number on your psyche. the sheer loneliness seemed to eat away at not only your sanity but aided to your artist’s block - it was truly a gruesome cycle. locked away in an beautiful estate that you never asked for.

not only that, but working from home and having an all but nonexistent social life in a country you only permanently moved to a year prior was a fate worse than you had imagined.

you huffed, finally setting your small brush down on the easel, stepping back to assess your final draft. despite being so unmotivated and plum out of ideas, you were still proud of what you created - you had promised yourself long ago that you’d never sell a piece you abhorred, and you’d remained true to that promise thus far.

a blaring ring ripped you out of your critical trance trained on the landscape in front of you, startling you as your heartbeat quickened in pace.

“hello?” you answered, soft voice flowing through the other end as you anticipated the response from the unknown caller.

“yah! y/n! is that you?” the voice that responded was loud and excited, the baritone of it something you could never forget. a staple soundtrack from the summers you spent with your father in south korea.

“mingi? how’d you get my number?” you asked, a genuine smile flooding your face at the sound of his familiar laugh on the other end. 

of course, the two of you had stayed in brief contact since meeting as children. but as you grew, you saw less of each other. three years ago he and his boyfriend, yunho, had successfully started their own rehabilitation and adoption center for hybrids. the first year was hard, but the business quickly gained popularity and as the creator - he’d been exceptionally busy since her permanent move to south korea. they had two permanent doctors on staff, kim hongjoong and park seonghwa, along with a 24 hour staff. the workers were really exceptional, but you had only ever met their core group when the business first started. which included: choi san, jung wooyoung, choi jongho, kang yeosang, the two doctors, and of course the two owners.

“you were commissioned by a friend of mine! which is actually why i wanted to reach out.” he answered happily as your breathing evened and heartbeat finally settled.

“it’s good to hear from you, really. what can i do for you?” you asked sweetly, and mingi only briefly thought about teasing you for your soft tone and giving nature.

“would you be able to come to the adoption wing today? i’m working here all day as we’ve some new hybrids ready to find a new home. maybe in about an hour? you could join me on my rounds and we could talk. i’d like to see you, anyways. i’ve missed you.” mingi spoke professionally, but his admission made tears prick at your eyes. he almost sounded like the sixteen year old boy who had stolen your first kiss when visiting your father that summer and the memory of when things were simpler stung in your chest. your cheeks flushed. mingi smiled at your silence, knowing he had flustered his best childhood friend. you narrowed your eyes briefly, as he had tried to convince you many times in the past to adopt a hybrid of your own - but you had declined, not entirely convinced that you could provide an exceptional life for another being. because even though your knowledge on hybrids wasn't nearly as advanced as mingi’s, you still knew the basics. they weren't just animals, they were human. and there was no guarantee there. there never was with humans. you hesitate.

“y-yes. i can come by, i’ve just got to swing by and deliver my painting beforehand.” you answered as you both agreed on the meeting the time. “oh, and mingi? i’ve missed you, too.” you said genuinely as he broke into a toothy smile. it had been ages since he’d seen you, and though he knew he could blame it on his work - he didn’t know how to face you after the death of your father. he couldn’t bring himself to be there for you, to see you so broken, and he had blamed himself for that everyday. it was a relief to hear you say it. you had always been so forgiving, sometimes to a fault.

after bidding your goodbyes to the tall boy on the other side of the phone, you quickly changed clothes into something not completely ruined by the muted pigments of your paint, loaded up in your small suv, and you were off.

the delivery of your piece went smoothly, no heckling or disapproving gazes from the wealthy couple, which made your trip to TWILIGHT that much faster. you pushed open the double doors connected to the building in the right wing, clearly labeled ADOPTION. 

the smell of roses and lavender was strong in the reception area, the scent was welcoming and calming as you walked up to the front desk. 

“y/n!” the dark haired boy behind the computer called, finally rolling away from behind the screen. kang yeosang. “it’s so good to see you!” he exclaimed, eyes scanning your face as he made his way around the counter and pulled you into a soft embrace.

“likewise, yeo! it’s been a while hasn't it?” you ask rhetorically as you stare up at his daunting height.

“mmm” he hummed with a nod, releasing you. “i'll let mingi know you’re here.” he called, returning to his place behind the sleek desk, paging mingi, and then proceeding to catch up with you.

the small conversation didn’t last long before a pair of heavy footsteps drug your gaze to the wide staircase, mingi barreling down them.

you braced yourself as the giant scooped you up into a bone crushing embrace, spinning your small frame around in a circle as he let out a happy laugh. your arms snaked around the man’s neck to secure your place and return the hug.

you giggled happily as mingi finally set you down in your original place, looking down at you excitedly. had he gotten taller? impossible. maybe you had shrunk?

after an exchange of excited greetings, mingi gestured to his clipboard before finally asking, “you ready?”

you nodded softly and followed close behind as he guided you down the halls of the adoption center. he gave you the rundown of their center, showing you the wide expanse of spotless rooms sealed in by plexiglass to show the hybrids ready to be rescued. he explained that most hybrids were separated by predator, prey, species, breed, etc. but many were grouped together with their respective packs. the rooms were quite lavish, but not very homey. but what could you expect from an adoption clinic? the point was to find homes.

you passed many show exhibits, watching intently at the small dogs or tall humans sitting in the rooms patiently, playing with one another or napping quietly. you cooed at a few.

“so i asked to see you because i’d love to have your art displayed in our business.” he propositioned, leading you into an empty room as the automatic doors opened and shut behind you. you nodded, heart lurching a bit as you recalled your artist’s block. you shook the thought away as you observed the room. it was large, littered with scattered pieces of nice furniture and random toys. “ideally, i’d love to have your pieces throughout the whole establishment but this is my main concern.” he finished, gesturing to the empty space on the large wall, the one you’re faced with when first entering.

“are you wanting a mural?” you ask, voice now stable and a bit louder. 

“i'd like the piece to cover the majority of the wall, but i’d rather have it on canvas if that’s doable. in case it needs to be moved.” he explained as you nodded, taking in rough measurements of the space as mingi explained his vision for the space - effectively helping you circulate a few ideas on what you could create. you accepted his offer as he discussed payment and supplies with you, adding in an extra cost at the large measurement of the canvas you’d need custom made.

the air in the room grew a bit thick at the sound of a small beep, alerting the two of you to another door opening. your skin was now a bit hot and you suddenly became very aware of your surroundings. your fingers tingled a bit. usually a foreign feeling such as the one you were experiencing would send you into a panic, but it didn’t. if anything you felt quite calm as you looked on inquisitively at the distant thump coming toward the two of you.

“ah, it’s look like some of our hybrids are finished with their check ups.” mingi announced as you nodded lazily. he turned to you. “we usually send them into the lounge area for about an hour after routine check ups. helps them calm down.”

suddenly, you could pay no mind to mingi’s words as a black bunny rounded the corner, back foot slapping the tile exceptionally hard every so often as you smiled down at the creature happily. it stopped in it’s tracks as it’s gaze landed upon you, rearing up on it’s back legs, and tilting it’s head innocently as it examined you. 

you knelt down to greet him, the bunny immediately approaching you and sniffing your hand before accepting you and nuzzling into you closer. mingi was taken aback as he observed the usually reserved and nervous rabbit.

“hello.” you cooed, stroking the bunny effortlessly, careful to avoid his ears and tail, briefly recalling how sensitive they could be. “what’s your name?” you asked as mingi coughed.

“this is jeongguk, he’s one of our younger hyrbrids. the youngest in his pack.” he told you as you picked the bunny up and set him into your small lap. mingi almost gasped at the interaction between you and the rabbit as you pet him happily.

your trance was interrupted at the light purr and brush of a small calico next to you. you instinctively reach out to pet him, as he rubbed into your hand. “and who might you be?”

“this is jimin, the two are in a pack.” mingi attempted to explain, trying to understand the absence of jimin’s usually protective behavior and unable to tell you the full story before you asked him something he was not expecting.

“and they’re ready to be adopted?” you asked softly, not even looking up at mingi as he stuttered. the idea of adopting a hybrid didn’t seem so far-fetched now at how taken you were with the two animals in your lap. you could handle the bunny and cat, without a doubt.

“y-yes but we only adopt out entire packs together and -”

“of course, i wouldn’t dream of separating them. is there anyway i could meet them properly, as soon as i possible i think -” you interrupt. starting to gush a bit, voice hushed and excitable.

mingi cut you off, “no, y/n. you aren’t listening. they aren’t just a pack of two.” he sighed, as your gaze finally met his. “in fact they aren’t just bunny and calico, they’re pack also includes that of a wolf, black panther, deer, great dane, and tiger... their pack has been hard to adopt out as it’s so rare for such a large mix of predators and prey... but they found each other and experienced a lot together... it was only inevitable. and we can’t separate them, we refuse to. and they won’t leave one another.” he finally finished explaining as your expression fell. you let out a breath. seven hybrids. all male. and three apex predators, at that. the thought of suddenly thrusting seven knew faces - seven new men - into your home was intimidating to say the least.

you looked down at the two animals in your lap, the bunny almost looked cresfallen. gauging your reaction as his big brown eyes stared at you expectantly. as if he knew you’d reject him. mingi continued rambling on about how many adopters had expressed interest in at least one of the pack but were never willing to bring in all seven. it hurt your heart as you watched on the bunny and calico.

the estate your father had left you was empty, though. begging to be occupied. you had more than enough room and were blessed with an untouched inheritance. maybe this is what you should use it for. you had always felt too guilty to spend it. but nothing seemed more right, which was a shocking realization to someone who never thought they’d adobt a hybrid.

“could i meet them? the seven of them? i’d at least want to give them a chance... truthfully, i dont think i can leave them behind.” you admitted softly, the bunny and cat both perked up, ears raised and twitching.

“of course. i can arrange a meeting and speak with them tonight... i’ll gather their files for you to take home tonight. can you make it back in again tomorrow?” mingi asked after a deafening pause of hesitation, mouth hanging agape before coming back into reality.

“i’ll be here.”

[heliads]

How to Move On

Based on this request: “A ghost!Luke Patterson x alive!reader but she is older. Like in the 90s they were but then he died and she got older. An angst story please :)”

masterlist

When he was alive, Luke Patterson lived five houses down from one of the cutest girls he’d ever seen. It still surprises him that he has to tack on that first part to describe anything that happened in his life before, like if he shuts his eyes hard enough he’ll find himself back in the 90s, when he had a pulse and a heartbeat and people could see him if he walked out onto the street.

However, an unseen blade cuts a little too deep whenever he thinks about his current situation, so Luke allows himself to fall deeper into the memory instead of returning back to reality. She’d lived five houses down, right? Or was it four? Luke has hardly been brought back as a ghost for a few weeks before he’s started losing his grasp on the details that bound his life. They’re all slipping through his fingertips, gone now in recollection as well as his ability to return to them in person.

Yes, five houses down- he’s certain of it now. Whenever he wanted to sneak out of his house to go visit her, Luke had to climb out of his window and weave through two backyards before he could risk returning to the sidewalk for another three houses. Five houses down, that’s right. Luke curses himself mentally, not wanting to forget another detail. He’s already lost the girl, he doesn’t want to lose the few figments of her in his memory. A ghost of her for the ghost he already is.

If he managed to sneak out of his house and make it down five houses, as he so often did, Luke could then toss small pebbles at one moonlit window. It usually only took two or three of these interactions before the window would be hurriedly unlatched, a beaming face peering out at him. Luke would allow himself a second of staring, admiring the way the moonlight cast the girl in a bone-white halo, then haul himself up into the room.

From the second his feet touched down on the bedroom floor, Luke would be in safe territory. He still took precautions, of course, keeping his voice down and his movements quiet. However, Y/N L/N always seemed to have a secret oasis in the form of her room, and he was never once caught. They both made sure of it, and if he and Y/N worked together, they could achieve any goal so long as it was worth it.

Y/N L/N. She was the one he’d left behind, one of the aches that hurt the most. He’d been lucky enough to win her love, either through some complete misunderstanding or maybe the fact that he’d finally done something right in his life, but he had her nonetheless. Or, he’d had her until the day he’d died, leaving behind nothing in his wake but grieving parents and the girl he’d sworn to stay with for the rest of his life. Well, his promise had come true in one sense, although Luke can’t help but wish there was another way around it.

To be completely honest, even as Luke dreads forgetting any detail of his past girl, he might fear thinking about her even more. It’s not that he wants to lose the picture of her smile in his head, or the way she’d reach for him when she was cold, it’s just that to think of her in any sense is like a knife stabbing him through the ribs, reminding him that he’ll never get her back. If he tries to push her from his mind, he won’t remember the way she’ll never be with him again. Isn’t that better?

Luke already knows the answer: no, not at all. Even this one slip in his memory, the faltering knowledge of how far apart their houses were, sends a jolt of worry spiking through him. Luke wouldn’t consider himself forgetful, maybe just a little absentminded, but the fact that he’s already starting to forget his past life worries him. However, to keep Y/N’s picture cherished in his mind means reminding himself of everything that he’d lost, of finally confronting all the memories he’s been holding back for so long.

Eventually, Luke finds himself in the studio, searching through the boxes and crates of stuff that had eventually made its way into dusty corners and spiderwebbed cracks of the room. Julie’s mom had been kind enough to keep at least some of Sunset Curve’s possessions, and so Luke ransacks these sparse belongings now. At last, his hand emerges triumphant, carrying with it an old photo album. It’s thin, spine scarcely thicker than a small paperback, but for the way he looks at it its pages could be lined with gold.

Luke pauses a second, steeling himself before flipping open the front cover. Instantly, he’s hit with a wave of memories. These first few photos had been taken a year or so before he died, when he had first started dating Y/N and everything seemed like he was living a dream. There are Polaroids from their first few dates, snapshots of festivals and boardwalks and everything a couple of teenagers could afford when they were young and stupidly in love.

Luke studies these, then the next couple of pages, and then the next. He must have been more distracted than he’d first thought, because he doesn’t notice Julie Molina enter the studio until she’s practically standing on top of him. Julie clears his throat, and he startles, doing his best to quickly close the album. For some reason, it doesn’t feel quite right to so openly share his memories of Y/N to anyone within eyesight.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there. Are we practicing?” Luke asks. Julie laughs, her smile a tad incredulous. “Not yet, but I’m a little worried as to why you were so quick to hide that book. What, are you trying to keep secrets from me?” Her eyes assure him that this question is purely an excuse to tease him, but Luke can’t find it within himself to smile back. Instead, he sits back down on the floor of the studio, gesturing listlessly to the empty space next to him.

“Not entirely. It’s just- well, I found this old photo album, and it’s kind of hard to not regret leaving everything behind. The current day is good, don’t get me wrong, and I love the band, but-” Julie picks up on his train of thought even as Luke’s voice trails off. “It’s not what you’re used to, and you feel bad about everything you could have had. I get it. I’m surprised you’ve adjusted so well, to be honest. It can’t be easy to leave your entire life behind.”

Luke lets out a quiet sigh. “Exactly.” After a moment’s consideration, he picks up the photo album again, opening the cover and passing it to Julie. She accepts it, glancing at him one last time to make sure he’s alright with baring his soul to her. A soft smile traces its way onto her face as she sees the photos of him and Y/N, grins so bright they could practically light up the world. “Who is this?”

Her finger lingers over a photo Luke had taken of Y/N. She had been wearing a Sunset Curve shirt, one of their first attempts at a logo. They’d long since changed the design, but she had said something about how her boys were so official and taken the first draft t-shirt nonetheless. Y/N had worn it to many shows since then, until the design faded into nothingness and she’d been forced to get a new one. Luke’s voice softens. “That’s Y/N. She is- she was my girlfriend. Back in the 90s, at least.”

Luke hates the way he has to say that, like she’s died instead of him. She was his girlfriend, they had known each other, they are each utterly different now and there is no getting back what they’d once had. Julie glances over at him, sympathy radiating from her gaze, but then she turns back to the photo, frowning over it in something that almost looks like recognition. “Wait, you said her name was Y/N? Like Y/N L/N?”

Luke sits bolt upright, melancholy thoughts completely forgotten. “Yes! How did you know that? Do you know her?” Julie’s excitement starts to bleed away from her, as if she knows something that ruins the dream she had been so thrilled to share. “Well, yes, but she’s not Y/N L/N anymore. She has a different last name now.” Luke picks up on what Julie is unwilling to say, and his stomach sinks a little. She has a different last name because she’s married, because she’s moved on.

Even as he thinks this, Luke feels annoyed at himself. Of course she’s moved on- he died 25 years ago. There’s no reason she would never love again, and even if she did, Luke would never want that for her. She was so bright, so happy, that the thought of herself locked away in mournful grief like his parents seems so utterly wrong that if that happened she might as well have died with him. Still, Luke doesn’t like thinking that there’s someone else out there receiving her smiles, hearing her hopes and dreams late at night the way he had once listened to her.

Luke must have gone silent for too long, because Julie is looking over at him again, pity written in every line of her face. She thinks for a second longer, then stands up, holding out her hand to him. “She still lives near here, actually. A few streets down. Do you want to go see her?” Luke stares at her, then rushes to his feet. “You mean it? You know where she is?” Julie nods. “Only if you’re willing to see her.” She’s right to worry- seeing Y/N again will mean finally coming to terms with everything Luke had left behind when he’d died, a final piece of proof that Y/N will never be his again. Still, if he hides away from her again, Luke will spend the rest of his ghosthood wondering what she might have been like and who she may have become. So, he nods, and allows Julie to lead him from the studio and down the blocks to Y/N’s house.

Even without Julie’s directions, Luke would know their destination even before she points out Y/N’s front door. He sees her in every corner of the building, every flower and tree planted in the yard. She’d always wanted a brightly painted front door, tall trees in the backyard so she could have a little shade on the summer days. They’d once planned what their future houses would look like, always choosing one for the two of them. If Luke sees traces of his ideas in her house now, does that mean Y/N still thinks of him? Or that she’s already forgotten that it was his voice suggesting those changes and not her own, that he’s already faded into the last few corners of her memory?

His feet stall in the driveway, but at an encouraging look from Julie, Luke forces himself to walk up the final few feet to stop in front of the front door. He reaches forward and rings the doorbell himself, although he can do no more once the door swings open. This will be Julie’s part- Luke can do no more than watch the woman in front of him with wide eyes.

She still looks like her. Is that a strange thing to say? She’s taller now, her face more lined and weary as if she’s had a lifetime of problems to deal with ever since Luke left her days. It makes sense that she looks older- the last time Luke saw her was 25 years ago, so she’s probably in her forties now. Still, there are traces of the girl he’d known in every movement, every step. When she looks questioningly at Julie, Luke can see the way she’d looked at him to ask when and where Sunset Curve would be performing so she could make sure to arrive on time. The gesture is so truthfully her that it practically hurts to see.

Julie’s eyes dart to Luke, as if trying to gauge his reaction, then she focuses her gaze firmly on Y/N. “I, uh, was cleaning out my mom’s old studio. I found something from the band who used to practice there- they went by the name of Sunset Curve? Your name was on one of the photos.” It’s a duplicate photo strip from a photo booth on a long-since demolished boardwalk, an excuse for the visit. Still, it’s enough to make Y/N’s eyes widen, and she looks at Julie as if she’s punched a hole right through her chest.

She gestures for Julie to follow her inside. Luke drifts in after them, staring at the photos lining the walls, the backpacks flung in a corner of the room. So she has children, a family. How long had it taken her to move on from him? She smiles in every family portrait he sees, but did she ever think about the boy she’d left behind? Would it matter that much to him if she did?

Julie hands Y/N the photo strip now, and tears glisten in the woman’s eyes as she looks at herself and Luke, decades younger and what feels like centuries happier. Julie, thank everything, is unwilling to let Y/N leave without asking her about the boy she’d left behind. “Did you know him well? The boy in the photos?” Y/N glances up sharply at Julie, startling as if she’d forgotten there was a girl in front of her, too drowned in the memories of the past to remember reality. It’s a familiar feeling to Luke, and it stings to see it on this older Y/N too.

“Yes, I did. Very well, in fact. I loved him with all of my heart until he died along with his bandmates.” She laughs quietly, the sound broken through with utter misery. It twists Luke’s heart like a blade. “I almost didn’t make it through the funeral. I was sitting next to his parents, and we were sobbing like we’d never smile again. He was everything to me, and I had no idea what to do when he was gone. I wish you could have met him- he was always so quick to a smile or a laugh. I never told him how much I liked his smile. I wish I had.”

Luke stumbles as if he’s been punched. Tears are pricking at his eyes, and he swipes at them angrily with his shirt sleeve. Why should he have to cry now, mourn everything he’d lost? Hasn’t he been through enough? Y/N swallows harshly. “It’s easy to get lost in the past. I graduated high school without him, went to college without him. I didn’t think I’d ever have to live a day without him, and suddenly I had an entire future completely empty of anyone like him. There are days when I almost think I see him in a crowd, and days when it gets easier. In the end, I think he’d want me to move forward, even as hard as that may be.”

Julie glances over at Luke once more, scarcely a second away from tears herself. “Yeah, I think he’d want you to be happy. That above all else.” Y/N sighs, the sound cutting through Luke and almost sending him to the floor. “Thank you for the photos, Julie. You take care of yourself.” Julie smiles. “I will. Thank you too.” Luke, sensing the imminent goodbye, takes one last furtive glance around the house. What if he had been there, present in every family photo and every line in her journals? He wishes nothing more than to have that option, to be able to go back, but he can’t.

So, he allows himself to follow Julie back out into the sunshine of the afternoon, and when the door closes softly behind him, he doesn’t look back. Julie is silent on the walk back, as is he. Luke heads for the studio, and he stops before the photo album before glancing up at the walls around him. If he tries hard enough, Luke thinks he can see her in every corner of the studio. There she is on the couch, laughing as she pretends to smack him with a pillow. There she is next to him on the piano, listening to his latest song. There are hundreds of her in the studio, hundreds of memories. That’s all he has left of her. Just memories and nothing more.

Julie returns to find him later, and it doesn’t take long for her eyes to cut across the room, landing on the photo newly pinned to the wall. There are two figures in it, a boy and a girl grinning madly as they reach for each other in a dusky night. Both of them are long gone now, dead and aged even as their photo-selves smile on. If Luke looks back at the photo now, keeping that image burned into his mind, he never speaks of it again.

requested by @charliegillespiewife​

jatp tag list: someone who i would not leave behind if i died in the 90s @underc0vercryptid​

[alvhiedeir]

Title: Is that all you got?

Pairing: Indra x gn!reader

Tw: drinking, mention of sex within influence (both of them are so nonconsensual?), Language, nsfw-ish

Note: I literally typed this without drafts before sleeping so not proofread

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"

When did things go wrong? There where many, many bad choices made last night. Which exactly, was the question.

Maybe when you agreed to go drinking with the other gods, something that you rarely do? But it has been a stressful few many days for you and drinking one or two might help with it.

Or maybe that's when things went downhill. Rather than one or two, you drunk maybe half the club's worth of alcohol. That sounded exaggerated but that's what the hungover felt like. After your first one, your friends' encouragement and teasing lead you to down one more.

And another.

And another.

And another.

'Till you can't tell what's louder, the roar of the crowd egging you on or your own laughter echoing around as you danced a little to provocatively.

Maybe that's what lead a certain Indian god to approach your drunken self.

Eyes droopy but mischievous, lips tugging into a smirk as you pulled him close to your body. Hips swaying just the right way to get him intoxicated but pulling away just as fast with a cheeky laugh.

And he doesn't seemed to mind your little game.

Oh no.

He loved it.

The ever so diligent and modest you, playfully messing with him. With lips painted with red and seduction, who in their right mind won't take the bait.

And so he played with you.

Hands on your hips and back, calloused hands tracing the skin revealed by your clothes. Just imaging how pretty it would look all bruised and covered by his marks. When you pull away laughing, he would follow, his own chuckles leaving his lips in a low tone.

Maybe this wasn't the sole reason for your predicament. But you're sure as hell this was a vital point.

Especially after your little game, you found yourself pressed against an empty hallway. The sound of the party nothing but a gentle him in the background as he stared at you, eyes ever so impatient.

He pressed his head closer to your, breath smelling thick of alcohol and cigarettes. His tongue darts out to lick his drying lips, all the while his eyes stared at yours.

Then he closed the gap.

Ah, maybe this was your worst decision of the night.

You were drunk. He was drunk. But rather than doing what any rational person - god if you will - would do, you didn't push him away and said this wasn't right. That you shouldn't.

Oh no.

You wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer, deeper as it already is. Tongue seeking out his own to dance with. Greedy and hungry, you kissed back with such vigor as he did.

He held your head with one hand and the other claimed a spot on your back, pulling your body closer. Molding your body to fit his, wanting to feel every inch that you had to offer.

And you just laid yourself on a silver platter.

With a tug of his hair, you pulled back from the kiss. Your eyes took focus on his face, and shit. Was it just the lighting or he always this pretty?

His hair was a mess as per usual but both his eyes were clear for you to admire. It held a perfect amount of hunger, lust and admiration just enough to make your excitement to grow. But what got your legs shaking was his lips. Bruised and swollen from your bitting and beautifully decorated by your red lipstick. With each gasping breath he took, you can't help but to think how nice of a color it is to him.

And how he would look covered in it.

You made many bad turns this evening but this was the icing on the cake.

Swipping your tongue across your lips, you leaned forward to his ear. Teasingly taking the lobe between your teeth before whispering lowly,

"Is that all you got, Indra?"

And believe me, you have no idea what he can do.

So as you try to scurry to find you clothes scattered across the room (whose room you did not bother asking nor thinking as it will just intensify your own embarrassment), you can't help but curse at yourself.

"Fuck where are my underwear?!"

The ruffling of the bed sheets made you freeze on the spot. Head turning ever so slowly towards the sleeping figure on the bed, you almost let out a sigh of relief as he settled back into sleep after turning.

"Damn, looks like I'm going commando today."

You tried to look as presentable as possible before turning to leave but the memories of last night made you stop.

Was it just because of the lighting?

Curiosity will truly kill the cat.

As silent as your panicked self can be, you tiptoed to the bed and and looked at the god laying on his back, one arm on his head the other hidden under the blanket.

With all the courage that you (shouldn't) have, you peeled the cover away just above his waist and you had to say. Being drunk didn't deter your idea a pretty.

He did look pretty with those red marks.

With your curiosity satisfied, with a pounding heart you did your walk of shame with the only difference is that you're running.

And you thought that was the end?

Karma's a bitch and life loves drama.

And it's just so happen that you're their new favorite show.

A week passed after your little escapade, and let's us say you had to walk the long way over just to avoid a certain somebody. Even going as far as hiding in a closet for a solid 10 minutes.

And the one moment you had your guard down, he just happen to be there.

Against you.

Pinning you once again.

In broad daylight.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck"

"Look who it is."

His voice was both amused and taunting. His larger frame towering over you as he lean closer, the memories of that night resurfacing, along with the red ess of your cheeks.

He laughs when he notices the color on your face. His one visible eye filled with humour as he watch you try to push yourself deeper against the wall, as if it can swallow you.

"Why are you embarrassed now when you said and did a lot more than-"

"Indra!"

He barked put a laugh at your loud response, your cheeks tainting into am even darker shade at your own volume.

"I'm just here to ask two things, don't worry." Your eyes were weary but none the less nodded for him to continue.

And you probably shouldn't of didn't want to turn into a tomato.

"Is this your's?"

In his hands, he held up a black underwear, the one you left in a hurry to leave, unceremoniously twirling it in his finger that anyone walking by can see.

Your hands shoot out to grab the offending garment in his hands but he held it further from your reach. He smirked as you ended up leaning against his chest, face once again a few centimeters away from his own. And when you tried to pulled back he already had an arm wrapped around your waist, effectively cutting away your chance of escaping.

Sly bastard.

"Damnit Indra! Give that back!"

He smirked, a low laugh escaping his lips.

Sly, sexy bastard.

"I'll give it back, I just have another question."

You tried to reach for your garments once again but he led it higher and started twirling it again. One wrong move and it can fly away into the floor and someone might just-

"Fine! Fine! Ask your stupid question!"

You can hear your own pride shattering in the background but you swallowed to shards and stared at him.

He laughed again, and you swore if he laughed one more time you're going to throw hands.

"Calling it stupid is kind of mean."

"Just say it."

He smirked at your snarky reply, eyes starring at you so intently that your wounded pride almost let you whine.

He lead down his head, pushing you, once again on the wall. One arm on you waist, the other - still holding the blasted underwear - burried in your hair, holding it so that it stayed looking at him.

The same position the two of you were in before.

He swiped his tongue out licking his lips, all the while staring into you with those eyes. And for a moment it seemed like you two were back in that club. He slowly pressed his face besides your's, taking your earlobe between his teeth. His gentle nibbling making it harder to suppress the shaking of your body.

After a while, he released your ear, only to whisper lowly. Hot breath blowing against it.

"Is that all you got?"

This is a bad, bad idea.

But without the alcohol this time you had nothing to blame but yourself as you pulled him closer, eager to get another taste.

[jkknight98]

Fear less, Forget, and Forgive

Here’s a short little story of Tommy and Techno finally addressing the awkardness around one another after the events of my gift for Altobug83. I may have made Techno a bit more emotional than how he’s normally portrayed, but I felt the urge to write this ending. I hope you guys enjoy while I try to rewrite the Skeppy and BBH fic sitting in my drafts~

warning: this does refrence back for my gift that had some hard vore moments, not in the same detail, but they are mentioned.

“Look, Tommy, me and Will are going out to get a few more things from the market, you stay here with Techno and hold down the house alright?”

In any other circumstance, Tommy would have loved to have nearly free reign over the house, but after what happened a few weeks ago, he still didn’t want to be anywhere near his piglin like brother, especially not alone like last time. He gave a soft whine as Phil tried to remove him from his shoulders, but he was quick to try and hide between the soft black feathers that coated his father's wings, not wanting to be removed in the slightest. “But Phil, I don't want to be stuck at home, what if you and Will get to see something cool while I'm stuck here, it’s not fair.”

What he didn’t realize was that his father and the rest of the household had noticed Tommy’s hesitance and near refusal to be anywhere near Techno, they all agreed to try and find out what was happened, especially since Techno didn’t know the reason himself, facing the issue head-on was the decided course of action. Tommy gave another whine as a pair of giant pale fingers gently pulled him from his feathered hideaway and quickly sat him on the wooden table, but swatted at them in annoyance as they ruffled his blond hair. Phil was quick to leave him on the table as he moved for the door, and Tommy could see the tiny mop of brunette hair that was seated among the giant's blond, and the two left Tommy on his own; but not really. Tommy could help but freeze as Techno entered the room, face still holding the impassive look like always, but his eyes couldn’t help but focus on his mouth. The memory made his arm twitch in phantom pain and he was quick to try and leave,” H-hey Techno, I'm going to head off to my room to play some games, good?” He tried to make his way off the table as quick as he could, but couldn't help but yelp when he found himself gripped in familiar pink-tinted hands and nearly jumped out before the fingers softly wrapped around him.

“Yeah no, we need to talk.” Techno had no idea why Tommy had been acting like he was terrified to even be in the same room as him, but he wanted answers as to why he had found that scrap of Tommy’s shirt between his teeth. He didn’t like how he could feel the tiny heartbeat fluttering like mad under his fingers, as much as he wanted to hide it, it was clear that Tommy was terrified to be in Techno’s hold. He slowly brought his little brother close to his chest as he moved to walk towards the living room, hoping that the sound of his own heartbeat would soothe him, just like how it did when he found the boy passed out on his chest late in the night.

Tommy shivered as he was brought upwards, but thankfully not towards the face, he might have really screamed if he was. He was surprised to be held to the chest, he had forgotten how comforting the sound of his brother's heart was, it had been drowned out by the noises of his other organs the last time he was this close to it. He gripped the fingers holding him tightly as the two of them moved to the living room, Techno moving to sit on the couch and still holding him close. “ W-What do you want to talk about?”

Techno couldn’t help but snort slightly,” I think you already know, you've been avoiding me like I’m a monster, I have to say that's not a nice feeling when it comes from your little brother.” He kept his grip on the tiny but moved to make it less caging so as not to freak him out. It was hard to put his feelings into actual words as they raced in his head, giving him a mild migraine and making him slightly regret telling the other two to leave the house. “ I want to know what happened, especially since I found a scrap of one of your shirts stuck between my teeth. Did you do something to me in my sleep because you haven’t been near my mouth any time I've been awake; what happened?”

This made Tommy shiver slightly as he thought back to that day, Techno was fully awake when it happened, just unknowing. He didn’t want to talk about it, he really didn’t, but even he could see the barely visible look of pain in Techno’s eyes at how Tommy had been acting around him lately. “ You were awake when it happened, you just didn’t know I was there, and I don't know how I’m alive.” The tears flowed freely at this point as the memories resurfaced and he turned into the comfort that the fingers still provided,” You didn’t know I was hiding in the bread when you rushed out of the house, you didn’t hear me scream, not even when you made these.” He held out his arm to fully show the marks that rested on his skin, not wanting to look at them himself as he continued to cry.

Techno could help but be confused at Tommy’s wording,” What do you mean I was awake- '' as the boy continued to talk, and couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath as he realized what happened. He remembered clearly how he thought he had cut himself with his own teeth when he tasted blood,” oh gods.” He felt his stomach turn and his face pale, the taste of blood, the weird noise he heard, and the weird way the lump of ‘bread’ stuck in his throat. He had eaten his own brother and had no idea he did until now, his own hands started to shake as he thought how alone Tommy must have felt despite being so close to him, it made him feel so sick with himself. He felt unfamiliar wetness start to slide down his face, he was crying.

Tommy looked up when the hands holding him starting to shake,” hic- why the fuck are you shaking?” He had never seen his brother's face so expressive in his life, the fear, sorrow, the self-anger, each emotion was as clear as a brightly lit sign. The thing that really caught him off guard was Techno crying, the massive red eyes were redder than usual as they looked down at him, and had multiple tracks of tears running down his face as he couldn't stop them,” Techie….Your crying.” He yelped when the hands lifted upwards and he was mildly frightened to see that he was being lifted back towards the giant face, but he was met with the giant nose being softly pressed into him as his brother shifted his hands to be hugging him against his face as he continued to cry.

“Fuck Tommy, I'm so sorry, I can’t believe that I hurt you… Fuck I’m so sorry,” He held Tommy close to his nose as he continued to softly cry, his ego prevented him from crying any harder, but his emotions were also too strong to stop the tears that did escape him as they rolled down his face and caused his throat to clench in pain. “ You have to understand that I would never willingly hurt you, whatever happened on that day, I swear on my life that it will never happen again.”  The piglin hybrid let out a shaky sigh as he felt his brothers arms wrap around his nose and fully lean into his touch, he normally didn’t like to be touched, but by the gods was he happy to feel his brother hug him,” I swear I will make it up to you Tommy, I don’t want you scared of me, I’m not a monster..” He signed in relief as he felt the smaller boy nod against his nose as he also cried, he knew that it still would take a while before Tommy would fully be over what happened, because who would be able to get over that level of trauma quickly. Techno would be with him every step of the way, he couldn’t take back what his body did to his little brother, but so help him if he didn’t try to ease as much of the pain as he could.

*

“Do you think the two of them made up yet, or are they fighting like before, even that would be better than the awkwardness that has hung over everyone lately.” Phil could only sigh as his eldest child kicked his legs lightly against his shoulders, hoping that he would find the house peaceful or in a wreck instead of a field of glass.

“I'm hoping for the first, but you're right about the second one being just as favorable, but I hope we have a house to walk into when I open the door.” Phil was slow to open the door and was happy to see that the house wasn’t in shambles, but was concerned when he didn't see his other two children anywhere. “Boys… Techno… Tommy?”  He started to make his way towards the stairs after seeing that the kitchen was completely empty but was stopped by a sharp tug on his ear,” What the fuck Wil-” but he quickly saw what his son was trying to show.

On one of the couches was a softly slumbering Techno who still had some easily identifiable wet spots on his shirt, and resting over his heart with a protective hand covering him was Tommy. The two apparently had such an exhausting moment together that they must have passed out completely when the emotions calmed, but it seems like things have fully been mended. Phil smiled as he turned away from the peaceful site and went back towards the kitchen,” Let's make some good food for when the two wake up and don't you dare tease your brothers for finally showing emotion.”

“Fiinnee, you're no fun Phil, but I’ll leave them alone. They both needed this.”

[kouomi]

Counting Down To You

Summary: When meeting your soulmate is a matter of life or death, is it possible to beat the clock and find them in time? (F!Reader x Sakusa Kiyoomi)

Warnings: talking about death, some sadness, fluff at end, sad to happy

Word count: 3,010

A/N: sorry for not posting in a while! Pulled this out of my drafts, there might be a lil sequel/separate ending to this later!

Masterlist

Posted: April 27th, 2021, 5:30 PM EST

Everyone had countdowns from the moment they were born. It was a ticking time bomb within every person that would be lethal to not only them, but their soulmate as well when it detonated. The whole system of having a soulmate was a double edged sword; sure, if you managed to escape it you met your soulmate, but the slightest slip up could lead you to a grave.

The timer started when you or your soulmate was made aware of the other, such as hearing their name for the first time or seeing a picture. Everyone’s timer was set at different times, most people having a couple decades while some of the lucky ones have a hundred years, or the unlucky only a few years, months, weeks, or even days. When the timer starts it’s simply your soulmates initial and a date on your wrist, but when it got to the last 7 days, the timer turned into one that looked like a clock, slowly ticking off the seconds until left you had to meet them or die.

The death wasn’t immediate, it was more like a sickness. It wasn’t able to be cured even by meeting your soulmate, for as soon as the timer ran out, so did your chance of survival. Once the last second ran out the timer disappeared and was replaced with your soulmates name as if it would be any help at that point. Three days was all you were given after the timer ran out. Three measly days to say goodbye to everything and everyone you knew.

There were other ways other than seeing someone’s timer to tell if their time was running out. Once it turned from a date to hours the person started to become “sick” their body weaker and more noticeably a cough. It was horrible to watch but an even worse feeling was it happening to you.

When your timer started, you were given exactly a year. It felt like a cruel joke that at the age of fifteen you were only given a year to find your soulmate or die, but the date on your wrist was a constant reminder it was reality. You tried for almost that entire year to find him, to find the one with a matching timer and who matched the initial on your wrist but it was useless. Even if you managed to find them you’d have to kiss them to stop the timer and you couldn’t go around kissing every stranger who’s name happened to start with K. By the last two weeks you’d given up, finally coming to terms with the fact you were going to die and there was nothing you could do about it.

You were in Tokyo for the national volleyball tournament as you were accompanying the team you managed, happy to at least be in a beautiful city for your last few days on earth. A gentle breeze picked up your hair and blew it around your shoulders, a few stray strands waving in front of your face as you stared at the quiet city streets below. It was oddly peaceful, a sense of a calm before the storm blanketing the night and preserving the moment around you.

“Y/n/n?” A familiar voice asks from behind you, “What’re ya doin out here, it’s freezing.”

Turning around you see one of your closest friends, Miya Atsumu walked out on to the balcony where you stood, leaning on the railing. You’d noticed the freezing air nipping at your bare skin but hadn’t paid much mind to it, your mind to focused on other things to care about the cold.

“Waiting.” You answered, returning your gaze to the sky as he walked over to stand next to you.

“Waitin for what?”

You glance at your phone screen, seeing it read 11:59 before moving your arm up so it rested underside up on the metal railing. Just as you did so the date on your wrist disappeared and was replaced with a timer, the seconds slowly ticking away.

“That.” You sigh, taking notice of the way the normally positive atmosphere that followed Atsumu had faded, “167 hours, 59 minutes, and 47 seconds left.”

“Hey, maybe we’ll find them here!” He exclaims, a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes crossing his face, “There’s thousands of people!”

“I can’t go around kissing thousands of random people, Tsu.” You chuckle, pushing off of the railing and walking back to the door, “Come on.”

“I have an idea!” The blonde gasps before rushing inside, making you give him a quizzical look as he frantically looks around the room.

“Why are ya yelling at midnight?” An authoritative voice asks, making Atsumu freeze momentarily before he turns around.

“Kita! Yer name starts with K right?”

“Do I really need to answer that?”

“Atsumu, I know what you’re thinking and no.” You say, watching as his shoulders droop.

“Why not?!”

“Kitas timer hasn’t even started yet.”

“It’s worth a shot! He has the right initials, doesn’t he?”

Both you and the captain blink at him before glancing at each other and shaking your heads.

“They’re backwards.” Kita states, Atsumus face falling at the realization, “Hers say S.K. mine are K.S.”

“Thanks anyway Tsu.” You smile, your hand resting on his shoulder as you walk past him and down the hall, “Don’t worry about it. I still have a week to watch you guys win. Good night.”

The two boys watch you leave, a sad feeling encompassing the room as you disappear down the hallway. The silence hangs in the air as if saying it’s own piece to the drastic weight of the situation, the weight pulling down on the two making their shoulders visibly slump as they continue to stare where you once stood.

“Stop looking at ‘er like she’s already dead.” Kita says, making Atsumu jump. “Yer just gonna make ‘er feel worse.”

Almost as soon as you’d slipped through the door of your room you collapsed on to your bed, an empty feeling filling your chest as you pulled your blanket over your head. Sure, you’d come to terms with the fact you were going to die, but it didn’t stop the horrible feeling that weighed down your heart as it set in that this was your last week. In another week you’d probably be in a hospital bed with all of your friends giving you sad pitiful looks as you slowly withered away, left with nothing other than the name of the soulmate you’d failed to meet in time.

Were they panicking as well? Were they doing everything they possibly could to find you so you could both survive? This was the greatest chance you had to find them seeing as you were in the city and at a large event, but what were the chances of them even being there?

Your worries and questions followed you into your sleep, dried tear tracks staining your face as you fought to get any rest.

Even in your dreams you found yourself on the brink of death, a man standing just out of reach. He was so close, you could feel the fabric of his jacket just barely brush past your fingertips. He was so so close, yet so impossibly far, you found the last slivers of hope you held for finding this stranger in time slipping away just as he began to walk out of your view.

-

3 hours 26 minutes and 17 seconds

They’d lost. You watched with a hallow expression as the boys dressed in orange and the entire stadium cheered for Karasuno and their victory, while your team was almost frozen in time in disbelief at the final score. After what felt like hours you all walked off the court, silence haunting the group as they all sulked.

“I’m sorry Y/n.”

You turn around and see a few of the boys standing in front of you almost at the brink of tears, their sad gazes only getting worse as they fell upon you.

“Ya said that you’d be watching us win until...” Atsumu continues, his hand clenching into a fist as he trails off, “But we lost. Sorry.”

“Stop being so dramatic, Tsu.” You say, making his expression turn to one of surprise as he and his brother look to you, “Just being able to see you guys play like that was good enough. Especially seeing that quick attack. Man, that was cool!”

They both smile slightly and so do you, walking closer and hugging them both with one arm. You close your eyes for a moment and relish in the hug, imprinting the feeling on your mind as one of your favorite. They squeeze you to themselves though you don’t mind, the three of you standing there for what felt like hours. You wished you could stay there for hours, stand in the arms of the people you considered family. You wanted to stay with them, with the whole team and make more memories, to keep living with them. Your heart ached for the wish as you knew it was an impossible request, knowing this most likely would be the last time you could hug them. If only there was more time, just a few more days. But the timer on your wrist continues to tick, the seconds going by and your time running out.

After a while you finally let go and walked out with the others, the air not as heavy as it previously was though the discord in your head running wild.

0 hours 10 minutes and 43 seconds

“Hey Y/n, are you coming?” Aran asks, standing on the first stair of the bus and looking to you.

You look down at your wrist and read the numbers, feeling a pull at your heart.

“I’m gonna take a walk really quick, can you guys wait a few minutes?” You ask.

He nods, hiding his worry for you behind a slight frown before he climbs into the bus, the doors shutting behind him and the engine starting as the bus waits to leave.

You sigh as you turn around and start walking down the sidewalk, a cough racking your sore body as you did so. Everything hurt and your legs resisted every movement, but you refused to spend these few minutes stuck in the bus.

0 hours 2 minutes and 24 seconds

Finally you came across a bench where you collapsed, a grunt leaving your body as you finally relieve your legs of your weight. Your head was thrown back on the back of the bench and you stared up at the cloudless sky, the stars seeming to laugh as they stared at your disheveled state.

“Could you not sit so close?”

You turn your head to the side and see another person on the bench next to you. With a sigh you scoot over, wincing at the burning sensation in your arms as you do so. The stranger hunches over himself and you hear the all too familiar sound of coughing, their fit lasting almost an entire minute before they straighten themselves out again.

“Are you okay?” You ask, turning your gaze away from the sky to look at them.

“Fine.” He mumbles though another cough gives away his lie, “There’s not enough time for me to care.”

You give a light laugh, a cough of your own stopping it short. “Time’s a bitch, huh?”

“Sure.”

0 hours 0 minutes and 53 seconds

“What’s your name?” You ask after a few seconds of silence.

“... Sakusa. Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

Your heart seems to stop as you hear this, the world around you suddenly coming to a halt as you blink at him.

“You’re joking right?” You ask in disbelief. Surely this was some kind of messed up prank, it wasn’t possible.

“Why would I be joking?” He responds, “Who’re you?”

“Y/n. Y/l/n.”

You see his eyes widen as he turns to face you, his once defeated appearance gaining new life though the exhaustion is still visible in his droopy shoulders and bags under his eyes. Despite the mask covering half of his face you could tell he was attractive, dark brown eyes that bore into yours slightly obscured by long curls. There were two moles on his forehead that were hardly visible in the low light, his intense expression almost forcing you to look away.

0 hours 0 minutes and 32 seconds

“Are you...” He starts, eyes glancing down for a moment, “Your wrist.”

0 hours 0 minutes and 27 seconds

You read the number in your head as you held out a shaky arm for him to see, a small gasp leaving your lips as he holds out his own for you to see a timer in sync with your own and your initials just below it.

0 hours 0 minutes and 20 seconds

“I’m... we’re not gonna die.” You breathe, your eyes moving up and meeting his again, “I know we just met but I don’t think there’s enough time for us to spare.”

He blinks at you, almost too shocked to respond.

0 hours 0 minutes and 16 seconds

“Can I kiss you?” You ask, anxiously waiting for his response.

0 hours 0 minutes and 13 seconds

Sakusa doesn’t say anything, his other hand unsteadily reaching up to pull his mask off.

0 hours 0 minutes and 8 seconds

Almost in slow motion he leans closer to you, his body almost towering over your own as he rests on one of his hands.

0 hours 0 minutes and 5 seconds

You see your breath in the cold air as you tilt your head up to look at him, fighting back the cough in your lungs as everything around you seems to be slowly clicking into place.

0 hours 0 minutes and 3 seconds

You lean closer to him, his breath dancing on your lips. Just before you meet your body seems to give out beneath you, this small slip up seeming as if it’s been waiting to rip away your last few seconds to save your life.

0 hours 0 minutes and 2 seconds

Sakusas other arm shoots out and hooks under your back, holding you up and closer to himself.

0 hours 0 minutes and 1 second

As soon as you were supported in his grasp you leaned up and pressed your lips against his, your eyes fluttering shut as you put all of your hope and fear into this one moment. The kiss is short but it felt as if something you were missing all your life, your body feeling reenergized and the air escaping your lungs as you pull away.

You blink at each other for a moment before you both look at your wrists, joy filling you both when you see the timer stopped at one second. Below it where there was once only two letters is now each other’s names, the sight making butterflies fly through your stomach.

Realizing his arm was still around you, a light blush dusts your cheeks as you suddenly acknowledge how close you were to each other.

“Y/n?” You hear Atsumu yell from down the street, Sakusas arm pulling away from you as he approaches. “We were lookin all over for you, are ya okay?”

“I’m okay.” You smile, “And you don’t need to find a replacement for me just yet.”

“Huh?” He asks, finally noticing the boy next to you, “Oh hey Sakusa, what’re ya doin- wait.”

“Hi.” He says, cringing as Atsumu seems to explode.

“Y/n, you and Sakusa?!” He exclaims, “I can’t believe this!”

“Why are you yelling so much Tsu?” You ask though give him a smile, “Why were you looking for me?”

“Oh yeah, Coach wants to leave.” Atsumu answers, “And ya were gone a while, we got worried.”

“I’ll be there in a second.” You say, nodding for him to leave. He gives a loud “ohh” when he finally understands what you were implying, giving a thumbs up before jogging back the way he came.

“I should probably head back too.” Sakusa says, standing from the bench and stumbling slightly.

“Sakusa?” You ask, standing as well. He turns around, pulling his mask back over his face and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Kiyoomi.” He says in an almost shy tone.

“Kiyoomi.” You repeat, smiling slightly at his name, “Can I get your number?”

“Y/n yer back!” One of the boys yells as you climbed on to the bus, taking one of the free seats.

“Yep.” You grin, all of them giving you a strange look before you hold up your wrist, the once gloomy atmosphere turning joyful as you’re practically tackled out of your seat and into a giant mess of a group hug.

“Yer not gonna die?” Osamu asks in a whisper, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“No, I’m not.” You respond, your arms wrapping around all of them and squeezing. “Now can you all stop crying? You’re gonna make me cry.”

There’s a small series of laughs as you’re somehow held tighter, the tension the last thing on your mind as you close your eyes. What had once felt bittersweet now brought joy to you as you relished in the feeling of being with the people you considered family. Finally, after a year of living your life as if it was your last moments, you were able to stop; to take a moment to breathe. That one kiss had freed you of the chains of a ticking clock and given you the thing you’d only ever dreamed of: more time.

As you all were forced to pull away by your coaches telling you to get in your seats your mind wandered to the boy who’d made this possible. Sakusa Kiyoomi, though he was still a stranger to you, had made a spot for himself in your thoughts as well as bringing butterflies through your stomach. Maybe with the extra time he’d given you, you could spend it with him.

Kiyoomi. You thought, thanks for being my soulmate.