#instead i cried all the way home in fear of any red car i see bc of him

[majorbisexualpanic]

got called multiple slurs today along with insults about my hair and facial piercings. i just wanted a coffee to drink while playing stardew valley

on top of it, it was pouring rain and i was with my dog. when i pulled my car bat out for protection he approached my car screaming “what is a bat gonna do to help you”

and i that moment i felt real fear for the worst time in a while.

at least a bear would kill me instantly instead of calling me slurs and saying i will never fit in with society

[talesfrom1844]

BB Tribe Organization

Ok, so this is my first published (shared) piece of work. Hoping for some honest feedback on what you think AND if you'd want to read more about Beckett (original character) x Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes.

***

It was super late at night.  Beckett typically didn’t get worried or afraid of anything – definitely not of driving at night.  She didn’t fear getting lost.  Or ending up in a bad area.  She didn’t fear walking alone.  She had confidence in herself that didn’t allow for fear of being attacked and hurt by strangers. 

However, NOW, she had a bad feeling as she was driving home from a late-night shift.  The little hairs on her arms and neck stood up.  Her heart was beating a bit faster.  She didn’t feel comfortable stopping the car so red lights and stop signs had her on high alert. 

So, she called James.  When it went to voicemail, she hung up and tried again and again.

“Beck, I’m on a job ...” He spoke low.

“James, I’m scared.” She was on the verge of tears. 

NEVER had Beckett Carrington been afraid.  Plus, she only called him James when she was serious. 

“Where are you?” he stood from his table without caring who saw him at this point.  He listened as he walked to his motorcycle.

“I’m driving home from my shift.  I just have this weird sense of someone hijacking me in my car.  It’s weird.  I don’t know.  I don’t want to stop at any lights or signs.  This feels crazy.” Beckett was rambling.

“Where are you?” he repeated as he arrived at his bike and was about ready to drive off.

“I’m not sure.  I turned a few times from my regular route trying to stay in a brighter area of town.  Track me.  I feel like I’m being followed.  This is Stupid!  I’m Beckett fucking Carrington.  I don’t get scared.”  She just kept rambling. 

“All right, I’ve got you on the tracking map. Head home, doll.  I’ll meet you there if I don’t find you first.  Keep talking.  Do not hang up.

“Buck, I don’t like this.” Beckett’s voice was noticeably shaken. 

Her voice was blue-toothed into his ear as she kept talking.  His phone was secured to the handlebars so he could see where she was.  He cut through alleyways and even hopped over a sidewalk to avoid a small traffic jam.  He sent a message to Steve knowing this wasn’t a small situation.  Steve was out of town, but he needed to know immediately. 

Beck kept rambling as he sped down the road.  He didn’t know what she was saying at this point.  She had begun to talk about when they were kids and how she was never afraid of anything or anyone.  He heard her words but wasn’t truly listening to what she was saying as he concentrated on getting to her. 

She was remembering when they first met.  She was ten and they were a year to two older.  She was born in and grew up in a small village in Wales.  Then, her parents moved back to the States during the summer when she turned ten.  She wasn’t quite prepared for the streets of a bigger city, but she had found her own way.  She was independent and stubborn.  She often would go out exploring on her own – going on adventures like she always had in Wales.  She wasn’t afraid to climb trees or walk across balance beams.  She didn’t fear being injured.  The day she met the boys, those boys who instantly became her two best friends, Stevie and Bucky, was a day she should have been afraid, but not once did she show fear. 

“Beck,” Bucky broke into her rambling.  “Don’t stop at the BB Building.  I see you’re close, but I’m not yet.  So, drive around three blocks.  Go down to Hart and then to Augustus and then come back up on Lee.” 

“Lee, I don’t want to drive on Lee.” She answered.  “That’s where …”

“Beckett – listen to me.  You must drive up Lee.  You have to drive past the bar.” 

“Fine,” she exhaled not wanting to argue while also completely trusting Bucky.

“Good, now listen carefully.  IF anyone follows you from the bar then I want you to drive to the place where you first cried in front of Steve and me instead of home.  I can see you’re almost there to turn onto Lee.  I’m at home with the garage door open.”

No one followed her.  She pulled into the garage next to Buck’s motorcycle.  He closed the door behind her immediately.  Beckett jumped out of her car and Bucky met her to hug her tight. 

“BB, my ass, what the fuck?” she hugged him tight shaking like he’d never experienced before. 

“You’ve always trusted your instincts, Beck.  Something didn’t feel right.  I’m glad you called instead of just ignoring it.” He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head.  “Now,” he backed her away from him a little, “are you okay?  Really?  I’ve never seen you like this.  In twenty years.” He grinned and tipped his head to the side.

“First, Barnes, I’m forever still in my mid-twenties!” She slapped his arm.  “Second, yeah, I think I’m okay.  I legit felt like someone was going to jump out at a stop light.” 

“I’m going to check your car,” he lifted his finger to his lips to indicate for her to remain quiet. 

Bucky checked the entire car for bugs, bombs, cameras, trackers, etc.  He didn’t find anything.  He threw his arm around her shoulder and guided her into the building which, on this floor, consisted mostly of “The Little Guys Gym & Boxing Club”.

“Hungry?” he asked once they were inside. 

“For your cooking?  Always.” She bumped into him to say thank you in a playful way.

“I want to do a sweep of the entire place,” he informed her as they walked up the stairs to the second floor.

“You don’t trust the tons of technology you two already have all over this place?” she questioned following him to the room that no one other than the three of them knew about.  “Where is Stevie-boy anyhow?”

“I’m right here.  And will you please stop calling me ‘Stevie-boy’?” Steve replied when Bucky opened the door.  “I was already here when you sent the message, Buck.  I did a full sweep and now I’m reviewing the footage for the last 12 hours.”

“Excellent.  So, I can focus on food while you do that.  Beck-Bunny, you go ahead and shower or whatever.”

“Barnes, stop with the ‘Bunny’.  I’m not that little girl anymore.”

“See!” Steve added.

“Fine, no more ‘Stevie-boy’.  I get it.  I’ll stop using ‘smalls’ too if you’ll help me get this arse to stop with ‘bunny’. How come you don’t have any embarrassing nicknames Buck?” she quirked.

“Cause I’m the coolest of us.  Always have been.  Biggest.  Strongest.  Smartest.  Best Looking. From day one of the BB.”

“Oh yeah, and so humble as well,”  Steve stood from the chair to follow them out of the office toward the third floor before he continued, “That’s why that guy picked your pockets.  Oh, and, let’s not forget … about how the runt of the litter saved your ass from being jumped at school in the 7th grade.”  Steve winked at Beckett.

“What?” Buck wasn’t following until he turned back and saw the smirk on Beck’s face.  “Ah, yeah, the runt saving me.  That was great!”

“It’s always good to use the element of surprise and” she shrugged, “sometimes it helps to use the ‘boohoo I’m a girl’ card.  It’s not my fault that Dwight didn’t see me coming.  Everyone else did.”

“You broke his arm and his nose,” Steve laughed. 

“I thought he’d move.  Who the hell doesn’t move out of the way of a bicycle coming straight at you?”

“He thought he could just stop the bike and you’d go flying off it.” Buck reminded. 

“Well, I did get scraped up a bit because I did fall off.  But not until after I rammed that bike right up his ass!!”

“Alright, alright.  I don’t care what you two do for the next half hour but get the hell outta my kitchen.” Buck removed his jacket and placed it over the stool back. 

Steve and Beckett decided to spar in the ring.  Beck needed to expel her leftover nervous energy.  Steve needed to make sure she truly was fine and back to herself.  Neither male had experienced Beckett having a moment of weakness.  NEVER. 

********************

Beckett’s father had left her the three-story building in his will with two stipulations.  Mr. Carrington left clear instructions that it could never be sold and that it was to be known as the B.B. Tribe Organization Building.  That way, the BB crew could have whatever companies they desired to branch out of the building under the BB umbrella company.  The building occupied the entire block.  Sure, it was a smaller block, but this building was everything to the three of them.  Mr. Carrington had known they would need to stay together but still would want to have some individual space and opportunities for change.

Plus, this is where the boys first met the spunky 10-year-old.  Beckett had been out exploring shortly after her family had finished moving in.  It was summer and she hadn’t made any friends, so she just went out looking for her own entertainment.  She entered the abandoned building out of curiosity about the rooftop.  It looked like there was a garden up there.  She was tiny so getting in wasn’t hard at all.  She was gutsy and undaunted by the mess of the dilapidated building.  She could see straight up to the roof from here including the balconies of the above two floors.  There were stairs off to the far left that went up to each new level including access to the rooftop door.   The staircase was broken but she jumped from broken step to step with a gap of 2 or 3 stairs missing.  Then when she got to the door to the ladder to the rooftop she had to cross a beam to reach it.  At the end of the beam, she had to jump to grab the ladder.  The reward was exceptional.  The garden was filled with wildflowers that took over the entire roof.  There was a gazabo in the middle with a large swing that was broken, but the moment Beck saw it she was determined to fix it up by the end of summer. 

She spent the next week carrying things down to the building in a wagon she’d found.  She found and brought all sorts of things that she needed to fix her path to the roof and then eventually the swing.  She ‘borrowed’ things from all over the place as she discovered them.  She had found the wagon in the shed behind her brownstone.  She also explored the other sheds along the walkway behind the brownstones. 

This is when Bucky first saw her.  He was taking out the trash for his ma who was harping on him about his chores.  He saw a small kid wearing overalls, a ball cap, and carrying a canvas bag just as they climbed over the fence back to the walkway alley.  He followed and watched the kid go into the building.  He was about to follow when the kid came back out and ran back up the street.  This time Bucky went to grab Steve to follow too.  Both followed the kid back to the building.  Steve commented on how the kid was covered in grease and dirt so he couldn’t tell if he had seen them before.  They waited to see if the kid would come out again.  When no one did, they went in.  Beck had created a larger hole by now to get things in and out, so it was easy for Steve and Buck to sneak in quietly behind.  They stood in the wide-open area just as Beckett hopped from step to step.  She scurried across the beam and out the door to the rooftop.  She’d already fixed that part.  Bucky had convinced Steve that they should follow.  Steve was petite himself, but he was just as determined as Bucky to find out what this kid was doing. 

As they turned the corner, three older boys jumped them.  One held the smaller boy while another held the more talkative one.  The third one punched the talkative one in the stomach before reaching to take everything out of his victim's pockets.  Beckett didn’t even think.  She just ran up and hit the one holding the talkative one with a metal garbage-can lid.  Then she charged at the other one and knocked him over.  He took Steve with him, but the bully had taken the brunt of the fall.  The lead bully was yelling at the other two for letting a “small knucklehead” get the better of them before grabbing Beckett.  He pulled the cap off and her hair fell out of it.  Everyone was shocked to see a “cookie” (a cute girl) in overalls and a cap covered in grease and dirt fighting like a street kid.  The bully held her tighter and made a comment.  Steve and Bucky didn’t quite know what to do but Beckett did.  She stepped back into him and then flipped the large bully over her and then kicked him. 

Bucky instructed them all to run.  Beckett followed Bucky and Steve around the Brownstone and she called them back when they passed her house.  All three burst into her kitchen where her mom was beginning to cook dinner.  Mrs. Carrington looked at Beckett and the boys and shook her head.  Then she made a comment about being happy to see Beckett making friends.  Beckett explained what had just happened with the bullies.  Then the three of them introduced themselves to one another and Beck’s mom as she gave them cookies and milk.  From that day on they were inseparable. 

They spent every moment they could together – never fighting amongst themselves but always defending one another from anyone else.  Steve was the smallest and the biggest target.  Bucky was the troublemaker with the big mouth.  Beckett was average size for a girl two years younger than the boys.  She was just as problematic as Bucky but had a way of getting out of trouble by being cute and even flirty with adults or determined and stubborn and a bit flirty with her peers.  More than once she had finished what someone else had started with Steve or Bucky.  More than once, they had defended her when someone did or said something against her before she could learn it was said or done.  They were a unit that everyone came to know as the “Brownstone Brawlers” aka “The BBs”.  Mr. and Mrs. Carrington became the “doctors” of all their scrapes and bruises.  They also took care of the Rogers and the Barnes families as they all got sick and passed away.  All three kids lived in the Brownstone row on Lee Street, three blocks up from the building, for the next nine years.  The boys moved in with the Carrington family once they were “orphaned” until they finished school. 

Mr. Carrington had purchased the building shortly after he discovered why Beckett was spending so much time there.  He helped to fix it up and gifted her the rooftop garden as her project for as long as she wanted it regardless of who was using the building for their business.  It was in every contract that the rooftop was Beckett’s, and the basement was the Carrington’s, not part of the building that others rented to use.  It had been many things over the years – a factory where furniture was built, a garage for customization jobs, a medical equipment store, and for a short time a food pantry and resale shop run by her mother. 

Mr. and Mrs. Carrington plus Beckett, Steve, and Bucky all moved to the BB Building after Beck graduated high school.  They’d all been part of the remodel as the building became their new forever home.  Each had a say in things they’d like to have if they never left this home until the day they died.  Beck of course wanted to ensure the rooftop garden would remain.  Steve wanted a space to draw and be in silence when he needed that.  Bucky wanted a kitchen that he would enjoy.  He’d always enjoyed helping his ma and then Mrs. Carrington.  He was even working in a bakery after he’d graduated while waiting for Beckett’s graduation.  Mr. Carrington had promised the boys that he’d take care of them as his own as long as they didn’t move away and waited for Beckett to graduate. 

So, Buck and Steve helped plan the layout of the building to make it a home for them as well as keeping the main floor open to be a business of whatever sort they desired.  Everyone knew the entire building was to remain an option for Beckett and the boys for as long as they wanted it.  In the end, the third floor became the center and heart of their home consisting of kitchen, living, and bedroom spaces.  The second-floor housed offices and recreational spaces including initially a small exercise room for everyone but mainly Steve, who had begun to lift weights to strengthen himself under Mr. Carrington’s supervision of course.  The main floor was left wide open for Mrs. Carrington’s shop.  The basement was still their laboratory even though none of the “kids” knew what they were working on. 

Back then, that food pantry and resale shop was housed on the main level and was really a front for the real purpose of the building.  It was there in the basement where her parents had perfected their plan and performed their experiment, first on Beckett and then on Steve and Bucky.  Beckett had insisted that she go first and alone in case something went wrong.  It was her parents’ experiment so if it went wrong it had to be her.  She insisted.  Otherwise, she wouldn’t even ask the boys.  Both boys had no family left by this point other than one another and the Carrington family.  So, in Beckett’s mind, she needed to be the one to be first. 

The three of them had become ‘advanced’ by the age of 20-22.  They lived their lives as children, doing what children do, for 10 years as a trio.  Mr. Carrington had never expected to use the serum on his own daughter, but watching her fight for what was right even when she was tiny had helped develop the serum into what it became.  So, in the end, it was only natural that it became hers.  Mrs. Carrington had taken the boys in as her own as she watched them protect Beckett as much as Beck protected the boys.  There was a connection that they had that no one was quite able to explain.  After the serum was given to all three it was realized that they shared a specific gene that leads to fearlessness, valor, and the dynamism of being a leader. Additionally, it was discovered that they each had a unique strain of immunity to the plague that had recently taken so many lives including those of both boys’ entire families. 

********************

“Alright, you two!” Bucky called down from the Juliet Balcony on the third floor.  “Wash up.  Dinner’s about done.”

“Race you up!” Beck looked at Steve. 

Steve hopped over the ring ropes and landed on his feet.  The race was on.

Beckett was hot on his trail.  She jumped up skipping the turn of the stairs and scurried past him.  She was the smallest of them since the serum.  Ironically Steve was now the biggest leaving Bucky to be the middle.  The serum had enhanced their muscles and strength – brought them to the peak of their physical perfection.  It also focused on their best qualities making them all stronger, faster, smarter, able to endure inhuman amounts of punishment, quick healing abilities (thus why none of them can get drunk), increased senses, and age slower while also enhancing individual abilities as well. 

“And you wonder why Bucky won’t stop calling you ‘bunny’ when you hop around like that,” Steve called out.

“Silence!” she laughed at him. 

She beat him but only because he allowed it.  They all knew it.  The boys were happy to see the girl they expected and letting her beat him up the stairs was a small price to pay for that.  They washed up quickly and then met for dinner. 

Buck allowed them to get their plates and settle in before he started with the interrogation.  Beck sat as she typically did – right leg pulled up to her chest with her foot flat on the bar stool seat, left leg tucked Indian style, holding her plate with her left hand, eating with her right.  Steve sat next to her facing the counter.  Buck stood on the other side facing them.

“Where were you before you drove home?  When did you feel the whatever – hairs standing up?  What did you do all day?  Where did you go? Who did you see?” He shot out a ton of questions at her all at once.

“James,” she sighed.  “I’m good.  I’m okeydokey.”  She reached out to pat his hand.  “After all these years – you still don’t believe in me?” 

“YOU called ME, Bunny,” he reminded blowing her a kiss. 

“James,” Steve authoritatively hinted, “let’s do this without teasing.  So, Beck, he does have some good questions.  It’s not like you to be afraid of anything.”

“Fine,” she stabbed her green beans with a fork and rolled her eyes at them both. “Where would you like me to begin?  I woke at 4:45 am, took a shit, brushed my teeth, got dressed for my run, ran 5 miles, stopped at my boyfriend’s place for a quickie, and then came back to eat breakfast with Buck.”

“Jesus!” she sighed loudly.  “One, you’re an ass!  Two, I lied.  I broke up with Jake a week ago.”

“Now you’re lying to us!?!” Steve raised his voice. 

“Do you two even know what today is?” she asked putting down her plate.

“Sunday – Well technically Monday now,” Bucky answered literally.

“We all have photographic memories and you two don’t know that today is the anniversary of my parents' death?”

“Aw, shit. Beckett.” Both felt regret instantly as Bucky expressed in his reply.

“So, you went to …” Steve paused.

“Think.” she filled in. “I did run.  I ran to the bridge and sat there for a long time.”

They all remained quiet in their own thoughts. 

“I don’t care how long it’s been – I miss them.” She broke the silence.  “And I don’t know if I’m doing enough to honor them.”

The boys knew she wasn’t looking for them to fluff her up with compliments and assurances in response to her comment.  She had never wanted anyone to sugarcoat what was happening.  Her parents had created something special with their science and they had paid the price for not sharing it with certain people.  They had chosen the kids because they knew they wouldn’t abuse the gift of the enhancements.  However, no one had realized what would come with the serum. 

“Eighty years,” Steve spoke solemnly.  “I remember it like it was yesterday.”

“Me too,” Bucky’s entire tone changed.

“I know people know who we are and why we still look like we're in our 20s, but I still have days where I just wish I was that girl running around Brooklyn with my two pals and then we’d all go home to eat and read with my parents.” Beck reminisced.

“Do you want to,” Bucky paused, “get a recording of your dad reading?”  He shrugged.  “I miss that too.”

***

So what do you think of

@theycallmebecca @thewintersoldier @1-800-jjbarnes @buckysdove @bucky-barnes-diaries-library @buckypinetrees @drabblewithfrannybarnes @royalsweetteaa @readingislife

[m6bjo4fu0]

Vermillion Wings

I had fun writing this one

Warnings: mentions of being robbed and choked, reader is stubborn, “birdy”

1.3k

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Vermillion wings; so bright yet so dark, so vibrant yet so dull, so gentle yet so fierce.

Vermillion wings; always making you hate him a little more.

They belonged to the top hero Hawks, whom you’ve always despised. It’s not because he did anything wrong, you just simply disliked the way he existed. It’s like a secret hatred towards someone in middle school, perhaps out of jealousy, but some may think it’s from something else.

You hated how gorgeous those wings looked as he glided through the sky; You hated how carefree his expression was as he answered fans; And you most definitely hated how he patrols around your neighborhood. Yes, it made your life safer, but at what cost? You’d be walking home from work late at night and a large shadow would loom over you, freaking you out as if you were being robbed. Hawks never meant to do it, though, and you know it. It’s like when a kid falls for someone and tries to deny it in every way possible, yet it makes them fall harder somehow.

“Young love,” you’d hear from the distant old couple, watching as Hawks continues his daily chat with you. Logically, you’d be pushing him away and threatening to call the police since he’s bothering you, but you always let him stay. His voice would always pierce into your heart so smoothly and delicately. It’s so soft that you could miss it if a car drove by, and the tone always echoed in your mind. The sweetness laced within his words were gentler than the muffled rain at night, it made you wonder if it’d help you sleep better than crappy YouTube rain sounds do.

You always try to avoid Hawks while getting home, and tonight you tried walking through the alleyway as a shortcut. It wasn’t well lit and it certainly didn’t smell good, but at least Hawks and those damn fierce wings of his can’t get in. Antics like this don’t serve any purpose, just fulfilled your stupid pride and oblivious mind. Sometimes, like tonight, you’d go overboard, but you wouldn’t know until a hand tore a scream from your throat.

“Shut it! Or else I might as well as just finish you off right here! Purse!”

Air was leaving your lungs by the second as you tried to hand your purse to the mugger. Before you handed it over, however, a dash of red shot the rough hand away from your neck. You choked and cried as oxygen filled your lungs again, ignoring the begs of the mugger.

“Please! I didn’t know! It was an accident!”

The voice was so desperate and fearful unlike the one you heard less than ten seconds ago.

“Oh? Accidentally robbing someone? That’s new.”

And your heart dropped.

You could recognize that voice anytime anywhere, and you hated it. You despised how the tone is not anymore stitched with care and is covered in thorns instead. Even when dealing with a city-destroying villain, he’d at least coat his words with sass, not daggers like he is right now.

Hawks embraced you in his hug, gentle wings shielding you from the dripping water. As much as you tried to stop it, tears rolled out and you were clutching onto his jacket.

“There, there. Cry it all out birdy, you’re safe with me. My feather is sending that prick to the police right now, so take all the time you want.”

You hated how soothing his back rubs were and how lovely his warmth is, but you craved for more anyways.

“I’ll fly you home ok? Don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

His voice was so gentle, and you wished you actually hated it. Through your teary eyes, you could see the moonlight dancing across his same carefree expression, hinting a little bit of concern and care in his smile. Hawks seemed to notice you, too, as he pecked a long-awaited kiss on your temple before pressing your face into his neck again.

“I got you, just relax. Let the breeze dry your tears for me, ok?”

He smiled when you nodded into his shoulder, muffled sniffles decreasing by the second.

Hawks had always liked how lovely you are with him. Although occasionally laced with sarcasm, the sweetness in your voice always outweighed the bitter in your words. It’s like a young, blind love. It’s like the one’s where all your friends are telling you how you’re not seeing the big picture, yet it always makes you fall harder. He’d watch movies hoping it was you and him; He’d read novels praying it was you with him; And he’d wake up from dreams smiling it was you kissing him.

He liked you, but he didn’t know the exact reason. It’s like a middle school crush, perhaps naive but pure. Hawks had a few dates before, but they all made him realize he’ll never feel innocent love again. Only you, you made him remember how it felt like to have a single thought infesting his brain. The thought of you with him.

“Young love,” he always blushed whenever he hears an old couple comment on him chatting with you passionately. The wide wings on his back would always puff up in pride, glad that you’re with him.

Hawks felt a sudden urge to tell you it, so he tapped your back before saying,

“I hate accidents,” he started, “except when we went from friends to this.”

To this? His words often left you wondering, sometimes making you feel a tug at your heart like this one does tonight.

Don’t you hate him? And that damn smirk of his when your hair blows into your face? Or the sleepiness tied in his voice when he calls you late at night? But then you thought back to the past few months with him, and you realized how much feeling you’ve developed for him.

You loved the way he always insisted to pay for your dinner. You loved the smile he always wore when walking you home from work. You loved the way his jokes always made you look forwards to the end of the day more. You loved the way his grin always felt like warm summer sun on your skin.

It was as simple as a child’s love, yet as complex as a teenage drama. “Young love,” you’d expect from the every elder couple the two of you walked past.

Every time Hawks slithers to your side to check on you and later walk you home, you felt like a new freshman getting hit on by a junior. With fierce wings on his back, he seemed like he could protect you from any and everything, which he most definitely can and will.

With every tug at your chest, you dropped your pride and doubts.

“I didn’t think it was true, but I’ve fallen for you. I’m drunk with that cocky smile that I hate, I’m addicted to that terrible fried chicken you love, and, unfortunately, I’m in love with you.”

Like a high school freshman, the confession came out of your lips childishly and directly. Although the words were stitched with sass and bitterness, Hawks could only hear the love laced in the sweetness of your voice. Your eyes fluttered open and was met with those gorgeous wings of his.

Vermillion wings; so bright yet so dark, so vibrant yet so dull, so gentle yet so fierce.

Vermillion wings; always making you fall for him a little more.

Author’s notes: no cause i was sick and had an idea so i just decided to write this in one go. Today’s song references: paper rings by taylor swift and falling for u by Peachy! and mxmtoon

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4.20.22/4.23.22

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[plainbrunettelbl]

ABO HC How (A) Todoroki, (A) Bakugo, and (A) Hawks would react to finding the (O) Reader held hostage:

Word count: 3199

Warnings: Cursing, violence, mentions of blood, and assault.   

Title: ABO HC How (A) Todoroki, (A) Bakugo, and (A) Hawks would react to finding the (O) Reader held hostage:

Summary: Your Alpha walks in on you being tied to a chair and he is not happy. 

Prologue: 

You had been a well-kept secret from the public. No one knew that your famous Pro Hero Alpha was courting an Omega or even in a long-standing relationship. Your Alpha was too paranoid about your safety to let any of the news outlets find out about your existence.  

You supposed it would have been beneficial for the public to know now that you were in this situation. Surely if the villains knew they would come across an Omega, resting in their nest, they wouldn't have tried to rob the Pro Hero’s house. 

You put up quite the fight once you smelled unfamiliar Alphas near your nest. One hard knock to your head had you subdued. You didn’t dwell over your quick loss considering one Alpha was nursing his swollen balls. 

You got in one good kick before the painful hit fell on your head. 

Now here you sat, tied to a chair, while the robbers argued with each other and what they should do now.

Shoto: 

🧊🔥-“I told you we should have checked the place out before we robbed it! I would have never tried to rob the place if I had known a freaking Omega was here!” The brunette Alpha growled, glaring at his blond friend. 

🧊🔥-“What’s the big deal? So what if the little icy-hot freak has a girlfriend? We will be out of here before he even comes home.” The blond scoffs, shoving expensive silverware and china into his black bag. 

🧊🔥-“You should know how Alpha’s get around their Omegas! He is gonna hunt us down! I don’t want a Pro Hero on my ass.” The brunette seethed, glaring at the goose egg on your head. “Especially since you decided to hit the poor thing! We will be lucky if he doesn’t skin us alive!”

🧊🔥-“The bitch hit me in the balls! Of course, I thumped her one on the head, serves the Omega slut right!” The blonde huffed, sick of hearing his partner complain instead of ransacking the place. 

🧊🔥-“Mmh.” You mumbled, your eyes blinking open to a fuzzy view. 

🧊🔥-“Fucking shit! They’re waking up! I’m not dealing with a weepy Omega.” The brunette cursed, going into Shoto’s office to avoid the whole situation altogether. 

🧊🔥-“Well, if it isn’t Miss nut-cracker.” The blond chuckled darkly, walking over to your tied up frame.

🧊🔥-You didn’t back down and just glared at the dumb fool. 

🧊🔥-“Aren’t too smart, are you? What type of shitty criminal robs a Pro Hero? Dumb ones, that’s what.” You spit, narrowing your blurry eyes at him. 

🧊🔥-No doubt you would need to go to the doctor after this whole ordeal. Not like you would have a choice. You were sure even if they didn’t lay a hand on you that Shoto would have insisted on one. 

🧊🔥-“You dumb little bitch!” The blond lifted his ring covered hand to hit you again. You tried not to flinch as it came down to strike you. 

🧊🔥-The brunette stood in the office doorway, his bag filled with expensive clocks and other expensive desk items. 

🧊🔥-“I got everything in the office. Did you...” The brunette didn’t get to finish his sentence. 

🧊🔥-The front door was busted open. Shoto had smelled two Alphas on the other side of the door and he was not pleased. He was even less pleased when the door slammed open to reveal his battered Omega tied to a chair. 

🧊🔥-His mismatched eyes turned dark. The temperature in the room both dropped and elevated at the same time. His tired body was instantly filled with murderous intent. 

🧊🔥-A loud growl shook the room. 

🧊🔥-How DARE they lay a hand on their Omega! His vision tinted red and his fangs dropped. 

🧊🔥-“This will only take a minute, Y/N. I’ll take out this trash.” He calmly said, his tone was so cold you felt yourself shiver even knowing his silent rage wasn’t directed at you.

🧊🔥-“Yes, Alpha.” You responded, making sure voice quivered a little. You may have been glaring right back at the intruders before he came but you wanted them to suffer so you played the scared Omega role. 

🧊🔥-They lost your sympathy as soon as they pulled you from your nest. 

🧊🔥-The robbers, who were frozen in fear by the intimidating Alpha’s entrance, shuffled into action. 

🧊🔥-The brunette was quick to give his partner up. “He hit her, not me!” He said, before running down the hall, looking for a way to escape. 

🧊🔥-“You fucking asshole!” The blonde shouted, trying to run out of the room as well. 

🧊🔥-He didn’t get far, ice trapped his feet and his lower body soon followed. Shoto made sure to form it in a way that sharp icicles tore at his skin if he so much as moved half an inch. 

🧊🔥-He wanted to shoot an icicle into his leg for good measure but he didn’t feel like cleaning up blood off his floor. He wished to burn the skin off his bone but you had forbidden him from using fire in the house. 

🧊🔥-He had accidentally caught one of your favorite blankets on fire and was banned for life. 

🧊🔥-“We didn’t know she was here! If we had known we wouldn’t have come!” The blond groveled, panicked at the feral look in Shoto’s eyes. 

🧊🔥-“You could have left after you saw my Omega was here, but you stayed and decided to hit her too. You should be lucky I didn’t just kill you on the spot.” He growled, cutting the blond’s cheek just a bit with an ice shard. 

🧊🔥-The blond just whimpered and passed out. Shoto was quick to hunt down the other and give him the same treatment. He had made it out of the house so he was pleased to release his burning anger out on him. 

🧊🔥-Once they were out of the way, Shoto ran to your side and burning away the binds holding you down. 

🧊🔥-“Are you okay, my Dove?” His voice was soft, his cold hand going up to your head and trying to soothe the aching bump. 

🧊🔥-“Yes, I’m just a little dizzy. Everything’s a little fuzzy right now.” You leaned into his gentle touch. 

🧊🔥-“I��ll call someone to deal with those two. Let’s get you to the hospital, my Dove.” He hurriedly lifted you and carried you to his car. He treated you like glass when he sat you down in the passenger seat. 

🧊🔥-You leaned your head against the cold window as he dashed around to the driver’s side. Your head hurt too much to look out the window so you kept your eyes closed. 

🧊🔥-Your Alpha made sure you didn’t accidentally slip asleep. 

🧊🔥-You let out a small whine when a thought crossed your mind. 

🧊🔥-“Alpha my nest is gonna smell like them.” You sniffed, opening your teary eyes to look at him. 

🧊🔥-Shoto’s hands went white on the wheel, his face contorted into a snarl. He couldn’t wait to visit them again at the station. He had friends there that wouldn’t hesitate to turn a blind eye. 

🧊🔥-His anger instantly simmered when his eyes met your glassy ones. 

🧊🔥-“Don’t worry, Little Dove. I’ll buy you more. We can even go shopping at that blanket store you like so much.” He assured, taking one hand off the wheel and clasping it in yours. 

🧊🔥-Your eyes lit up. “Really! It’s kinda expensive though, I don’t need new ones. I am sure we can find some nice second-hand ones.” You squeezed his hand, bring it up to your lips to place a kiss on it. 

🧊🔥-Your exhausted brain choosing to ignore the specks of blood on his hand. 

🧊🔥-“My Dove, what have I said about me spending money on you?” He gently reprimanded, his eyes still soft. 

🧊🔥-“Accept it and say thank you.” You repeated without delay. 

🧊🔥-“Exactly, I won’t hear any more about it.” He ended the discussion, his eyes focusing back on the road while his hand remained in your grasp. 

🧊🔥-If your head wasn’t killing you, you would have been bouncing in your seat. “I can’t wait! They are coming out with some pretty fall blankets soon! Oooh! We have to get some cute Halloween ones too!” 

🧊🔥-“Anything you want.”

Bakugo:

💥-“Why did you have to hit them!? Ground Zero is gonna come after us now!” The brunette cried, desperately holding ice to your head in hopes that the bump on it would go away. 

💥-“Shut up! Get back to robbing the damn place instead of taking care of the freaking Omega.” The blond hissed, throwing a plate at the panicked Alpha. 

💥-You sat back in the chair not knowing how to process the situation. You knew dating a Pro Hero was dangerous but you thought villains would be your main concern, not petty burglars. 

💥-“If you leave now and don’t take anything, I’ll tell him I tripped and fell.” You wouldn’t, but they didn’t know that. 

💥-“See! Let’s just leave. We can go rob some other place.” The brunette pleaded, already trying to untie you. 

💥-The Omega in you wanted to feel bad for the whining Alpha but then you remembered he messed up your nest when he dragged you out of it. You Omega was fuming. 

💥-I just got the nest just right! She huffed, pacing around in your head.  

💥-She didn’t seem threatened by the Alphas in the room. She knew her Alpha was coming home any minute and he would take care of them. 

💥-You, on the other hand, was slightly panicking now that the situation sunk in. Katsuki was gonna rip them to shreds. You Omega was already smugly licking her paws at the image, while you shuddered at the thought. 

💥-“You should go. I don’t want to be mopping up your blood all night.” You urged, looking anxiously at the door. 

💥-“See! We need to go!” The brunette cried, trying to tug his friend towards the door. 

💥-“Shut up! We can leave once we get everything valuable.” The blonde growled, shoving off his partner. 

💥-The jiggle of keys at the door made everyone in the room stop and hold their breath. The doorknob turned and the door was pushed open. You looked at the chair you were tied to, the robbers, and back at the door. 

💥-There was no way to play off the situational. I don’t want to be mopping up blood. You whined, praying your Alpha wasn’t going to go too berserk.  

💥-“Hey, Spit-fire! I got us, your favorite curry you were wanting. I made sure to get it extra spicy.” He walked in carrying a bag of takeout. 

💥-He paused in the doorway once he got a whiff of unfamiliar Alphas in the house. His ruby eyes viewed the scene before him. He growled at the sight of the two Alphas. 

💥-From your point of view, his eyes didn’t look red anymore with how big his pupils dilated at the presence of Alphas near his Omega. His hand instantly dropped the food to the floor. 

💥-The sound of the bag hitting the floor heightened the tension. 

💥-His fangs instantly dropped when his nose picked up a faint coppery smell, his eyes zeroed in on the small trail of blood on your head. The growl that ripped through his chest shook the room. 

💥-“Alpha, please, no blood in the house.” You pleaded, shifting against the ties holding you in place. 

💥-“No promises, Omega.” His voice was so dark that you didn’t even recognize it. 

💥-“The brunette didn’t hit me. He even tried to ice it. Go easy on him.” You said, knowing his control was waning. 

💥-The veins on his neck looked ready to pop, his arms straining to hold themselves still and not plummet the Alphas standing before him. He eyed the patio door that was pushed open, most likely where they entered in from. 

💥-That would solve the blood problem. 

💥-He grinned viciously, “How about we take this outside?”

💥-He rushed the two Alphas, grabbing them by the backs of their necks and throwing them out of the house and over the balcony. He laughed darkly as he followed them, jumping from the balcony. 

💥-You wiggled free from your restraints and made your way to the front door, you picked up the takeout bag and brought it to the kitchen. 

💥-“Suki will be hungry after beating those two up.” You hummed, making him a plate and then making yourself one. 

***

💥-“Is the water too hot?” His voice was raspy from all the yelling he did earlier. 

💥-You sat with your back leaning against his chest in the bathtub. The warm water and the heat of your Alpha calmed your stressed body. Being tied to a chair was as comfortable as it looked. 

💥-“It’s fine, Alpha.” You hummed, delicately washing his bruised and bloody hands. 

💥-“I’m sorry, I wasn’t here sooner Omega.” You smelled a hint of sadness in his scent. 

💥-“Don’t worry, Alpha. I knew you were coming. I wasn’t scared one bit.” You reassured, bringing his hand up and planting delicate kisses on it. 

💥-“My strong Omega,” he purred, nuzzling his nose into your hair. He flinched when he picked up the faint smell of another Alpha. He snapped up the bottle of shampoo and poured half the bottle on your head. 

💥-“Got to get this disgusting scent off you, Omega.” He growled, gently scrubbing your scalp. 

💥-“Alpha! That shampoo is fifty bucks!” You gasped, picking up the half-empty bottle. 

💥-“I’ll buy you another one.” He assured, rinsing of the soapy suds and giving your head another sniff. 

💥-“Much better.” He hummed, pulling you tighter against his chest. 

Hawks: 

🍗-“You shouldn’t be here.” You whimpered, trying to curl in on yourself, the ties preventing you from doing so. 

🍗-“Why the fuck did you have to hit them? You know I can’t handle weeping Omegas, my Alpha hates it.” The brunette growled, trying to awkwardly pat your arm. 

🍗-You winced away from his touch, another Alphas touch was too repulsive. You felt your skin crawl as his fingers grazed your arm. The thump on your head making you more nauseous than you already were. 

🍗-“So what if your Alpha is a pussy. Unlike you mine enjoys their cries.” The blond smiled at the tears dripping down your face. “The bitch deserved it anyways.”  

🍗-“Whatever.” The brunette scoffed, rolling his eyes and going back to robbing the place. 

🍗-“You guy’s really shouldn’t be here...” You tried to warm them but you were too late. The door creaked open, your heart warming and racing at the sound. You knew it would be a bloodbath once Kei realized what was going on. 

🍗-“Baby bird! I hope you are already in comfortable clothes, I’m ready to cuddle in our nest.” His soothing voice causing you to relax in the chair. 

🍗-“Alpha.” You cried, your head still throbbing. 

🍗-The silence was enough to tell you he spotted the two Alphas in the room. 

🍗-“Omega.” He growled, his eyes bleeding red, the sight of blood trailing down your head sent him into a frenzy. 

🍗-His wings puffed out, the room suddenly flooded with crimson feathers. You felt two feathers sailing your way and cutting the bonds holding you. You swiped them up in your grip and clutched them to your chest. 

🍗-The soft texture of them calming you down some. 

🍗-A feral roar sounded throughout the room. You ignored the harsh thumps coming from behind you, the sound of one of the robber’s heads getting bashed into your kitchen counter made you wince. 

🍗-You wanted to get up and get away from everything but your body was in shock and it wouldn’t let you do anything but clutch the crimson feathers to your chest. Your other hand was rested on your stomach. 

🍗-You tried to warn them. Nothing was more dangerous than someone harming a pregnant Alphas mate. You were still pretty early along so they might not have been able to smell it in your scent. 

🍗-You Alpha was sure able to, the instant he got a small whiff of it he was chirping happily against your stomach. You had a hard time getting out of his ruby wings that day. 

🍗-“You DARE harm my mate and chick!” You felt the pure rage behind his words. 

🍗-The blond was already passed out on the floor, his front teeth knocked out. The brunette was about to pass out with him, your Alpha choking him with his shirt. He made sure to use his feather to cut up his arms and face. 

🍗-His wings behind him puffing up and flapping angrily.

🍗-“Didn’t know...” The brunette slurred, his head bashed in as much as his friend’s head. 

🍗-If they wanted to hit his Omega on the head then he was all too pleased to return the favor. The brunette finally succumbed to his injures and blood loss, he went slack in Kei’s hands. 

🍗-Kei dropped him to the grown without care. 

🍗-“Pathetic.” He hissed.  

🍗-His head snapped up in your direction once he heard your tiny sniffles. He was at your side in an instant. 

🍗-“Oh, baby bird.” He cooed, lifting you from the chair and wrapping his arms and wings around you. 

🍗-“Alpha, I told them to leave.” You whined, snuggling into his chest. 

🍗-“I know, baby bird.” He soothed, breathing in your scent, checking on the baby chick in your belly. They seemed well. He was still gonna fly you to the hospital. He made his way to the balcony outside and spread his wings, without a second thought he jumped. 

***

🍗-“Don’t worry, Omega. I already ordered some new blankets. They should be here by tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind the guest bedroom for now.” He hummed, he was curled around your balled up form. 

🍗-You didn’t even build the nest surrounding you, Kei delicately dropped you down on the bed and instantly began building the nest. He would angrily chirp if you so much as lifted a finger.   

🍗-Everything was fine with you and the pup, or chick as Kei liked to call them. As soon as you arrived home Kei refused to leave your side or let you out of his sight. 

🍗-You were not to roll over on your side without his permission. 

🍗-“Thank you, Alpha.” You thanked, nuzzling your head into one of his soft wings. 

🍗-“I also called a security company, they will be here to set up a new system tomorrow.” He informed, nuzzling into your hair. 

🍗-One of his hands was tangled in your hair and the other was snugly cupping your stomach. 

🍗-“No more Alphas in the house.” You sniffled, shaking your head. 

🍗-“Of course, baby bird. I told them, beta’s only.” He reassured, kissing your head. 

🍗-“I love you, Alpha.” You whispered, almost lulled to sleep. 

🍗-“I love you, too baby bird.”  

First HC I have done in a while, also the first time writing for Hawks! What did you think of him? I hope you enjoyed it! Please be sure to leave a comment and like! I really enjoy hearing your reactions. 💕

[falcqns]

Hi i have a request like a Chris Evans x reader and like the reader clean they’re house and chris have this book that he put like important stuff and the reader put that book on their coffee table and proceed to clean and when chris got home chris took a shower and find his book and he ask the reader and the reader said it was in the coffee table but when chris check it wasn’t there and chris got all mad bc it’s important and the reader said she will buy him a new one but chris said i will never be the same or something like that and chris stormed off and a few mins the reader saw the book but dodger have it he was ripping all the pages and stuff and the reader and dodge go to the shops and buy a new book for chris and when they got home chris was already there still mad and the reader gave the book to chris and the reader say something like “I know you said its not gonna be the same but I bought you a new one bc dodge kinda uh play with it” something like that and the reader apologized you can do whatever you want there, pls end it with a happy ending thankyou!

better than the original

pairing: Chris Evans x sensitive!Reader

warnings: angst, mentions of a DDLG relationship and little space, but no actual DDLG in this one, fluff, super sensitive reader (aka me, I cry over everything)

a/n: kind of a part two to "wrong person"?? readers not little in this, but its in the same universe!

you thought he would have been appreciative of you cleaning the house while he was on set, but to your surprise, he got mad.

"where's my book?" he asked, looking around the living room, disregarding all the work you'd done.

"I'm sure it's around here somewhere." you said, helping him look for his favourite book and trying to ignore the upset feeling in your stomach at the way he ignored the clean house.

he rounded the couch, and you heard him exclaim. "oh for fucks sake." he said, before storming off towards the bedroom. you furrowed your brow and walked around the couch. you sighed when you saw Dodger chewing on it, and ripping out the pages.

"Dodger! No!" you said. you took it away from him and placed it on the counter before going after Chris.

"we can always get a new one," you offered, but you knew that was the wrong decision when Chris turned around.

"that's not the fucking point, y/n! that was my favourite book, and even if we replace it it won't be the same!" he said, and he slammed the bedroom door shut behind him.

you felt tears coming to your eyes. you were insanely sensitive, and Chris knew that. he knew better than to yell at you, because you would start crying and wouldn't stop until you he assured you over and over that you weren't in trouble, and he wasn't mad or disappointed. you understood that he was upset, but it still hurt that he got mad and yelled at you, when you clearly didn't mean it.

you walked away and back to the living room and sat back down on the couch, where you remained for the rest of the night, your tears never ceasing. you were just trying to help, and show him you could be a good girlfriend and eventually wife, but instead you made him mad, and angry at you.

you spent a cold and lonely night on the couch, shivering from the cold that the knitted blanket couldn't block out, not wanting to anger Chris any further by joining him in the nice warm bed upstairs. just the thought of the bed made you eyes well up again, wanting nothing more than to cuddle up to him.

eventually, you woke from a restless slumber, and your tears retuned when you remembered that Chris was still mad at you. you glanced over to the book that still laid chewed up on the counter, and decided to go and try to find him a new one.

you stood up and grabbed your wallet and car keys, before leaving the house with Dodger on a leash.

you drove into town and found the first bookstore you could find. you walked in, and your eyes lit up when you saw they had just gotten a new shipment of them. for $15 you could get the regular book, or for $25 you could get a signed copy with a bookmark. you thought about it for a moment, but decided to get the signed copy, even though it cost more.

you paid for the book, and made the quick drive home, hoping that the book would put Chris in a better mood, if his sleep hadn't.

but, when you walked in the door, you knew that wasn't the case. the door shut behind you, and Chris came barrelling into the room.

"where the fuck were you?" he demanded, and your eyes widened. "ive been calling your phone, only to find out that you left it here, while you left, with my dog, might I add, to god knows where! why the fuck wouldn't you tell me where you're going? do know how stupid and immature that is?" he yelled at you. you tried to will yourself not to cry, but it was useless. he stood in front of you, eyes dark and face red. to you, he looked terrifying, and you wanted nothing more for him to go back to the nice Chris you thought he was.

tears slipped down your cheeks as you handed him the bag and Dodgers leash.

"I-i'm sorry. I k-know how much that b-book meant to you, a-and I just wanted to r-replace it so y-you won't be angry w-w-ith me anymore. I-I got the s-signed one to-o. it comes w-with a book mark. here-s your d-dog." you said before running off trying not to cry even more.

you ran into the bathroom, and to the linen closet where you had your little hideout. you climbed in and shut the curtain behind you, and let the tears come. you could feel your headspace approaching but you pushed it away.

you'd upset Chris, and he probably hated you for what you did. you knew that the book you bought could never replace the original, but you thought he would have liked it. you took Dodger with you because he needed some fresh air, and he loved going into stores with you.

you just wanted to prove you could be a big girl! that's all! he was really mad at you last night, so you knew even if you were little, you wouldn't get the care that you needed, so you pushed through and remained big for him, but even that wasn't good enough.

you don't know how long you sat there and cried your little heart out, but soon you heard Chris entering the bathroom. he took a seat somewhere and started to speak to you.

"y/n, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you like I did. you didn't deserve that. you worked so hard on cleaning the house and I didn't even acknowledge it because I was focused on a book. I should've let it go when it happened because its a book. I was wrong. it can be replaced. the one you got me is so much better than the other one, and I love that you got it for me. I shouldn't have yelled at you. you're insanely sensitive, and you were probably already on the verge of tears when you came in the house, and me yelling at you was not the right thing to do. I could have asked you calmly where you were going, instead of getting angry." he explained. he waited to see if you would say anything, and when you didn't, he continued speaking.

"and I'm sorry for saying that Dodger was my dog. he's not. he's ours. you take such good care of him, and I know you were only entertaining him because I was still asleep, because your such a sweet girl. I'm so sorry baby." he said. you sniffled, and slowly crawled out.

you walked over to him, tears still pouring down your face, and leaned against him. he immediately embraced you, and rubbed your back as you cried.

"I didn't mean to make you mad!" you sobbed, and Chris shook his head.

"no baby. you didn't. I could never be mad at you for something like that. you're okay. i'm not mad, i'm not disappointed. you're not a crybaby, its okay to cry." he recited like he always did, squashing all your fears before they could even enter your head. he lifted your head to look in your red and swollen eyes.

"have you stopped crying since last night?" he asked, and you shrugged your shoulders.

"n-not really." you said, and Chris sighed sadly.

"c'mon. let's go back to bed for a little, it's still early." he said, and you followed him into the bedroom.

you drifted off less than a second after your head hit the pillow, and had a peaceful sleep knowing that Chris wasn't mad at you.

[bts-trash-blog]

Best  Of Us

Prologue:Story Introduction 

Summary: Being an Omega is hard, it could be so lonely. The hardships that you would sometimes feel seemed to much, always expected of things you could never fully reach. Always seen as a piece of meat to some, seen as weak and stupid. So you worked your ass off to finally work your dream job. And the world all changed when you met one of the bosses. And couldn't help but end up falling.

Paring: Rap Line X Fem!Chubby OmegaReader

Warning: A/O/B!VERS, mentions of sexual harassment, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, angst, possessive behavior, more warnings will be added as needed.

An: Trying something diffrent with intrducing this story to you guys! This story over all, is going to be a diffrent experinces as it goes along for you guys.  I can’t wait for this story to progress, and can’t wait for you guys to read.

...._.NEXT

Being an Omega was hard, being a female Omega born from an Alpha base family was harder. Though you were lucky, your family loved you. Your father an Alpha and mother a Beta, they both had no clue how to go about raising an Omega. When you presented at 16, you were a surprise to them, your mother trying to stick close to you during your heat though she  had no way to help you. But they tried. They did anything and everything that they could do to help you.

Your father during these five days, had dragged himself to Omega classes for non omegas,  to learn about your sub-gender. He had taken fucking classes, to learn how to help you adapt to your new senses. Things he had no clue about. When you came out of your heat haze, and was greeted with protein and fat filled food you had felt comfort. Especially when your father has wrapped you in a blanket that smells like him and your mother. Soothing your omega more. When you learned of your father taking classes you had cried, which had surprised the shit out of both him and your mother since you had barely cried over anything.

From that day on, your life changed.

You lost friends, and grew distant from certain family members that gave you the creeps your parents even followed your omega intuition which you learned later in life that not many families do. Your father grew more protective, your mother filled with more worry, doting over you making sure you were eating the right amount of everything. You figure changing drastically, hips wide, breast had grown full and your thighs and stomach had thickened up. Though you felt gross, your parents reassured that you were beautiful, and that your subgender was just making sure you were healthy.

Over the years, you had grown accustomed to the eyes that would linger on your curved frame, friends leaving in fear of their partners wanting you instead of them. The only friends you had were other omegas, who knew what you felt. It was nice knowing who really had your back, who was really your ride or die in this world. You honestly were now just waiting for the right mate, or pack, to come in and love you. Choose you.

You went to school but it was close enough to your home that you could still live with your family. Hence why you probably hadn’t found anyone even remotely interested in you, though you know it wasn’t necessary they didn’t find you attractive or didn’t crave the omega scent that twisted with your own. Your scent didn’t drive the crazy. Didn't make their Alpha scratch to claim you.  

So you waited.

As you waited, you worked your ass off to prove that your subgender status did not define how smart, and determined you were. It was a struggle when you were applying to colleges after high school. They weren't the typical schools that omegas go to, the ones that taught omegas how to build a home or to teach them for educational purposes. No they were for music and business, odd looks and even professors judging you as you walked into a Beta and Alpha filled class had your head spinning at their pheromones. Yet you pushed through it, you proved yourself in class after class. Lecture after lecture. Wanting to show that you knew what you were doing, that music was a true love of yours.

You had always loved music, your mother having been a music teacher for some extra cash in the house. So the soft sounds of piano keys or the strum of a guitar, the sting of a violin was always heard and played throughout your home. It had made you curious, your head peeking into the spare room watching child after child play. Till one day your mother called you in. The feeling of the cold piano keys against your fingers as you slide onto the piano stool, your finger pressing the smoot keys as a simple melody you heard your mother student play echo out making your mothers face light up. From that day on, when your parents couldn’t find you, they made the house silent to hear the simple yet sharp keys play, slowly growing more and more bold as you aged. Smile bright on their faces.

You still remember that day. It was like any other, your father was driving you to campus the two of you talking lightly about the movie you had gone and watched with your friends you had made in school. A loud and crazy pair of Omegas, Lisa and Bambam. You were laughing about the moment Bmabam had dropped the popcorn onto an attractive Alpha when it happened. The jerk of the car, blaring of a horn and the bright lights of the other car. You remember the pain in your neck, the feeling of something dripping from your head as you opened your eyes to see your fathers head slaked to the side, the last memory you have of him. You remember calling out for him, arm stretching out to him but wincing and dropping in pain, so much pain you had blacked out. When you woke up, you were met with a dim light and the beep of a heart motter, your mother practically on the bed with you clutching to your fathers jackets. Her face was sunken in, under her eyes were blue yet the edges were red with an irritated look, when she felt you shift she had bolted up and looked at you with wide eyes, filling with relief. When the words pasted her lips after a few questions with your doctors, her hand smoothing down your hair as you shook your head. Your father had died on impact.

The piano sound stopped playing, the sharp keys that you had learned with your soft voice had stopped the day your father passed away.

You switched major to just business, music fading from you as you worked but your work ethic never deflated.I n fact your ethic seemed more driven, you pushed yourself harder and pushed yourself to limits you never thought you would reach. It worried your mother from time to time, walking into your room, your fathers blanket wrapped around your shoulders, body bent over crossed legs passed out. She had even seen you work on a paper during your heat, in between waves of pain. You worked your way past every obstacle that was in front of you, jumping through hoops and dodging everything thrown at you. You reached your senior year without a hitch after your fathers passing, your mother was proud even more so when you had fallen into an internship at one of the most reptile companies  in the world. Min&Jung

They were two of the most powerful men, and Alphas in the world. They had worked from the absolute bottom and had built one of the biggest electrical manufacturing companies. Have an Apple product? A smart t.v? They were the reason it was functioning. Your teacher had helped you get the interview, she loved how persistent you were and how you always pushed yourself further and further. And somehow after your first interview, you had another, then the final one with their personal assistant. Out of thrifty other students they chose you. Min Yoongi and Jung Hoseok had chosen you.

Little did you know that their choice alone would change your life forever.

Tag List:

@kth-kpoplover @alex4243 @malyxsoulpersonal @purelyecstacy @ryuyalana

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 9 - FINALE)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 7.2k

warnings: smut (oral f receiving), semi-public sex (in a parked car) angst, arguments, implied smut, sappiness, time skips, some alcohol consumption here and there, lots of talking about issues including bucky's ptsd, I really have no idea how to warn for this but IT’S THE END SO STRAP IN FOLKS

Since that night, it had been like a stand-off in a Western movie, none of you saying anything because you had no idea what to say. Whenever he tried to start the conversation, you brushed him off.

You took a cab home from the event. He slept in his own room for the first time in months.

Finally, suddenly, you were ready to talk about it nearly 30 hours later, knocking on the guest room door and entering to find Bucky on his bed, re-reading Flowers for Algernon. He sat up quickly and shut it, setting it aside. “Hey,” he greeted softly, hesitant like you were a deer in a clearing and he was extending a handful of grain in his palm.

“Hey,” you returned, already fighting back your emotions. “I think I’m ready to talk.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I’m ready to listen.”

“I just… I want to make sure that you understand this is a really big deal.”

He nodded again.

“I had to do a lot of damage control to prevent being banned from all HFPA events— that includes the Golden Globes, you know, I can’t exactly skip those just because my boyfriend went fucking nuts at a party.” And there was the anger again— you had tried to wait until you could be neutral about this but it barely lasted, mainly because you were still embarrassed about the way you’d handled yourself that night. “You’re lucky not many people saw; you’re lucky no reporters were there! Can you imagine if someone had a fucking picture of this? There were cameras everywhere, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” he defended. “I saw you with him and he was touching you and I just… I saw red.”

You sighed slowly. “That’s not a good thing. That’s really, really concerning.”

“I know, I agree— you’re right. I need…” he trailed off, taking a breath before starting over. “I need to work on that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I just… I can’t really be a part of that. You need to work on that on your own.”

He stood up instantly, almost looking… afraid? Terrified, really, and heartbroken. “On my own, like what? What does that mean?”

“It means that I think maybe you should go back to your own apartment for a while. I just… need to be alone for a bit.”

“You need to be alone?” he repeated. “Or you need to be away from me?’

“Both.”

His head fell into his hands instantly. "Please don't tell me I fucked this up," he whimpered. "Please don't tell me I ruined this."

"I— I don't know."

"Please, please, please," he sighed, just louder than a whisper, suddenly stepping forward, grabbing your hand and clutching it to his chest. "Look at me," he begged.

You did, hesitantly, fighting everything in you that wanted to cry (and not doing so good of a job at it).

"Please, I lo—"

"Don't," you grimaced. "Don't say that."

"But it's true."

"It doesn't matter!" you yelped, surprising both of you with your volume.

“Are we going to have a chance to talk about this again? Am I going to get a chance to make it up to you?”

“You don’t make it up to me, you fix it. And that takes time.”

He shook his head, looking shocked and confused and completely blindsided which made you feel sick to your stomach. “How long?”

“I don’t know…” you mumbled.

“Am I not going to see you at all, for however long it takes?” he pressed.

“I… that’s sort of the idea.”

He shivered and pulled you into a hug. “Please don’t hate me forever,” he whispered against the top of your head.

“I don’t hate you,” you promised, doing your best not to hug him back even though all you wanted was to wrap yourself around him and feel safe in his arms again.

“Then don’t make me go,” he pleaded as he pulled back, clutching your face. “Let me stay and we can work through this together.”

“That’s not how this works,” you reminded him

“But I don’t know how to be without you,” he explained shakily.

“That’s not really my problem!” you yelped, and he turned away like he’d been slapped, dropping his hands from your face. A long, heavy silence fell between you as you watched him stand there, contemplating.

“If this is my last chance,” he finally spoke softly, barely breaking the silence, “to say everything I want to say…”

“It’s not,” you assured. “We’re going to talk about this again, but you need to go now.”

He nodded, his adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow of nothing. When he looked at you again, you hated how much bluer his eyes looked when they were bloodshot and filled with tears. “Can I kiss you?”

You shook your head. He bit his lip and turned to walk away; you stared at your feet because you couldn’t watch him go.

You heard him grab his backpack, shoving a few things from the drawers into it; he set his key on the table, walked into the open hall, and as soon as you heard the front door open and shut you were plunged into solitude and silence. With a whimper, you crumpled to the floor and cried, the look of betrayal on his face burned into your mind.

It was obvious, to your horror, that he really hadn’t seen it coming; he hadn’t packed his things, or prepared in any way for the conversation going like that. He had been waiting for an olive branch and got a switch to the face instead. You didn’t know anything about working on relationships, repairing broken things… when something went wrong, all you knew how to do was bail.

You knew how to do a new take and say the line right this time. You knew how to take off your eyeliner and start over. You knew how to kick unsuspecting C-listers out of cars because you already got yours. But you didn’t know how to stay, and work, and frankly you were just too scared to try. Last time you tried to make it work, you got burned. And as much as a logical part of you knew that wasn’t Bucky’s fault or responsibility, your heart just couldn’t survive another relationship where you put everything into putting the pieces back together while the other person stood there and watched you just to pull them apart again.

It had to end at some point, right? It was you, it was him… and that’s just how these things go.

//

He knew it was too good to be true. He knew you were too good for him. Anybody with at least one eyeball and half a brain could see that. But still, he hadn’t been ready to let you go.

Being in his apartment felt like stopping in a ghost town; there might as well have been a tumbleweed rolling through the living room. It was beyond a bachelor pad: it was more like an unfinished work site, considering his ‘couch’ was cinderblocks and a few two-by-fours, and his bed was a mattress on the floor.

One toothbrush. No books. A half-empty shampoo bottle in the shower and some hard water stains he needed to scrub away at some point.

This place didn’t feel like a home, it barely felt like a livable space. It was a three-dimensional homage to how empty his life had been before you, and he realized that was only his own fault.

Then again, this was all his fault.

But still, he had let himself obsess over you, turn you into his whole world and it made him into somebody he didn’t want to be. He had been working so hard to keep you happy, inspired more than anything by his fear to lose you, that he’d forgotten to give you space and now here he was… giving you so much more space than he ever wanted to, or knew how to deal with.

But he wanted to use this, if he could. As much as it was tempting to binge on junk food, drink too much and watch porn for an hour, as much as he wanted to run away from everything he was feeling, he owed it to you and to himself to face it all and learn from it. He wanted to be the man you deserved, if that was even humanly possible; he wanted to be who you used to think he was.

//

The next week went by in a blur: a blur filled with shitty romcoms, Ben & Jerry’s straight from the carton, and phone calls ignored.

It would all be fine with time, you knew that, but god, it fucking hurt now. It made you want to call him and at least apologize for having sex with him when you knew he wouldn’t have wanted to if he knew you were upset. More time and distance from the situation made you appreciate that it was manipulative, even if it by no means justified the way he grabbed you, or shoving anybody in the first place.

Truth was, you were scared of Bucky long before that happened. You were scared of how strong your feelings were for him; and, in turn, you were scared of how strong his feelings were for you. You felt loved by him, and you didn’t know what to do with that. So you self-destructed.

Just in time to tear you out of your spiralling thoughts, the intercom buzzed from the front gate. You furrowed your brow, wondering who it could be, and got up to check the camera feed.

You couldn’t see the face of the driver, just his arm, but you’d recognize that Rolex on his wrist anywhere.

“What do you want?” you asked coldly, holding down the intercom talk button.

"Let me in," Sam instructed.

"And why should I?"

"Cause if you don't, I'll press charges against your boyfriend."

BEEP BEEP BEEP! the gate announced its opening.

You took the time while he parked his car and walked to the door to throw out the wrappers from all your questionable “meals” (i.e., candy and ramen), change into slightly nicer sweats and splash your face so you looked slightly less dead. Just as you came downstairs from your rushed primping, Sam knocked on the door and you turned off the TV, tossing the remote aside. “It’s open!” you called out.

He turned the knob and stepped in with just one foot, peering around.

“Is the Terminator home?” he asked coyly. “Cause I actually think I’ve been assaulted enough for one week.”

“No, he’s gone. And don’t call him that.”

“What?” he shrugged, finally coming all the way in and letting the door swing shut on its own, taking his shades off and sliding them into the collar of his v-neck shirt. “It’s a compliment, and you really invite the killer robot comparisons when you’re part robot, look like a killer, and act like a thug.”

“He’s sensitive about the arm, okay? It’s one of the reasons he… it’s part of why we waited so long to go public.”

Sam glanced down to beside the door, where three pairs of your shoes were haphazardly lined up while his boots were noticeably absent. “And the fact that he’s moved out? When’s that gonna go public?” He always had an eye for these things, the bastard.

“I… I don’t know,” you sighed. “What do you want, exactly? Because honestly, I really can’t handle you right now.”

“I’m just trying to be a friend,” he explained, stepping closer again as you leaned against the breakfast bar.

“You seemed a lot more than friendly on Saturday,” you reminded him. “God, Sam, why did you have to do that?”

“So it’s my fault, then?” he rolled his eyes.

“No, of course not,” you assured, “but you knew I wasn’t single. I was actually happy… did you even want me back? Or did you just want to fuck with my life?”

“I did want you back, really.” He paused for a moment, more serious than he almost ever got. “I still do.”

You scoffed, looking away. “What happened to just being a friend?”

“That’s not why I’m here, this time. I’m just here to tell you that I’m worried about you.”

You took your weight off the bar and circled it into the kitchen, Sam mirroring you by following around the other side. “Do you want something to drink?” you asked, opening the fridge. He opened his mouth to answer but then leaned in as he stared at your hand where it was right in front of his face gripping the refrigerator’s door handle.

"He did that to you?" Sam pointed to the bruise on your wrist. You let go of the fridge and pulled your sleeve down to cover it again but that was answer enough. "Jesus, babe, this guy's fucking crazy."

"He's not crazy, and don't call me that," you frowned. "I don't think he meant to, really— his prosthetic is powerful and it was in need of a recalibration. He shouldn’t have grabbed me, but, he probably didn’t mean to do it so hard.”

Sam didn’t seem too convinced by that explanation, but didn’t say anything.

“Believe it or don’t, Sam, but either way it’s none of your business,” you frowned.

“Right, I know,” he nodded. “I just want what’s best for you.”

“And that’s you?” you pressed with an incredulous raised brow, opening the fridge again to grab yourself a green juice (because you were, again, trying to look like you had your shit together) and starting to walk away.

“I’ve changed, believe it or not,” he explained as he followed you out of the kitchen again. “Occasionally, people are capable of that.”

“If that’s true, then I owe it to Bucky to wait for him like I said I would,” you shot back. “I told him to leave so we could work on things separately. Not so I could entertain your come-to-Jesus moment.”

“It’s not a ‘come-to-Jesus’ moment, it’s just a ‘give me another chance’ moment,” he corrected as you took a long sip of the juice, “it’s a ‘maybe we ended things too soon’ moment.”

You looked at him in silent judgment as you kept drinking, and the way he was looking at you made you glad the glass bottle was keeping your lips occupied.

“It’s an ‘I’m still in love with you’ moment.”

Before you could stop yourself, you spit the juice right onto him, covering your mouth in shock just a moment too late.

For one of those indefinite moments, you were just staring at each other while you both contemplated that you had said he loved you and you had spat juice onto him.

“Okay, I was prepared to get shot down,” he admitted. “This is… worse.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you rushed, trying not to laugh, “I… I’ll get some paper towels, I can get you a new shirt, but it’ll have to be one of the ones Bucky left behind…”

“Oh god, it’s sticky,” he grimaced, as he tried to peel his shirt from his skin, “can I just use your shower maybe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you nodded, “upstairs and down—”

“I remember where it is,” he reminded you as he stepped past you to make his way to the bathroom. “I knew I should’ve waited to say it until she was done drinking…” you heard him mumble to himself before he disappeared and you heard the bathroom door shut.

But truthfully, it wasn’t really the fact that he said it, or the concept of Sam loving you at all that made you spit out your drink. It was that when he said it, you realized you were in love with Bucky. Which, yes, would’ve been obvious to anyone else but it came as quite a shock to you.

It made you realize that you wanted to make this work. You wanted to be vulnerable, you wanted to try, even if it ended just as badly as it nearly had last week; even if it meant dealing with all the shit that you’d pushed down for so long.

You wanted to have another chance, this time knowing how hard it would be to be without him.

Just as you pondered what to do with that realization, a knock at the door startled you. Who could have made it to the door without buzzing the intercom?

Somebody who has the gate code already, you realized, and your heart sank. You weren’t ready to see him again— specifically, you weren’t ready to be seen by him again. Sure, cleaning up the trash and splashing your face was enough for a guest like Sam, but you had been imagining that when you saw Bucky again you’d be all dolled up looking like you were doing better than ever, like you were thriving without him just to rub it in that you were the best he ever had.

Couldn’t he have just waited a few hours after your realization so you could go to him on your own terms, with your whole speech prepared and everything? As an actress, you were much more comfortable reading lines than improvising.

Another knock made you sigh and set down the half-empty bottle of green juice, running up to the door to answer it.

“Hi,” he greeted soberly when you opened the door.

“Hey,” you nodded back, “listen, now’s not a great time…”

“Listen, I’m not here to cause any problems, or ask you for anything, I just need some of my stuff back,” he explained.

“Okay, it would’ve been better if you had come at another time—”

“I know, I’m not trying to invade your space,” he sighed. “I shouldn’t have used the gate code, I didn’t mean to surprise you, honestly it was just second nature but I realize now I should’ve called first— well, I don’t think you’re taking my calls right now—”

“Bucky, please, we can talk later,” you assured, trying to shut the door.

“Can we?” he sighed. “I mean, will we?”

“Yes, but I’m busy right now,” you explained.

“When?” he asked, voice full of hope. “Soon?”

“I— I don’t know, sure,” you shrugged.

“You’re just saying that to get me to leave,” he realized flatly. “I understand, I don’t blame you— god, I just hate how scared you are of me. I’m everything I never wanted to be. I just wanted to keep you safe and now I can’t even do that, now you think of me as a threat. You should have the gate code changed, if it’ll make you sleep better—”

“I sleep fine, just go and we’ll deal with all of this soon— really, I promise!”

“You promised before and this week without you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do!” he returned, getting more emotional as he gestured with his hands. “I’m not saying this should all go away in a week, there’s so much more I have to do, but… but not being able to see you at all is killing me. And it’s not like I don’t see you, your movies are on every fucking channel, but you know, I don’t get to really see you, talk to you— that’s what I miss, I miss when we would talk for hours.”

“I miss that too,” you agreed, “it’s all going to happen, it’s just that I need you to go right now—”

And of course, Sam picked just the right time to come running down your staircase with only a towel around his waist.

Bucky tensed up as he saw Sam, jaw tightening. "Oh."

You had no idea what would happen. Was Bucky going to attack him again? Would Sam try to hit Bucky? Were you going to drop dead from sheer embarrassment?

Instead, Bucky just sighed a little and looked to the ground, almost laughing though he seemed anything but amused. “You’ve got a funny idea of what ‘being alone’ means,” he sneered.

“Sam was just—” you began to defend.

"No, it’s okay, I see how it is," Bucky informed you quietly, coldly. He didn’t even seem angry anymore, just defeated. "I'll leave. I'm sorry that I… I'm sorry."

And he turned to leave, you reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, it's not—"

He shrugged your hand away as he kept walking, forcing you to chase him.

"Don't leave, please— Bucky, I love you too."

He stopped, but didn't turn around yet; you just stood behind him, staring at his back as it rose and fell with a slow breath. When he looked back at you, his eyes were red, brimming with tears and heartbreak. "Don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it," you promised.

“And what does that mean for us?”

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted.

“I don’t think I’m ready to come back yet. As much as I miss living with you— and as much as my apartment is so gross—”

You giggled a little, glad you could laugh with him again even if just for a second.

“I need more time. I’m not going to subject you to me until I know I can be… stable, again.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “Whatever you need.”

“But maybe we could… go out sometime? Somewhere where there aren’t paparazzi, ideally?”

“Uh, Vermont?” you offered jokingly. “I’ll find somewhere, though. We’ll talk this all out.”

He nodded slowly, swallowing a little. “Okay.”

With obvious hesitance, he leaned in slightly and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You wanted more than anything to get up on your tiptoes and kiss his lips, but it was probably too soon. He smiled down at you slightly before he turned to walk away, and you did the same as you made it back into the house.

“Hey, listen,” you began as you found Sam still waiting in a towel looking completely lost.

“That doesn’t sound like the beginning of good news,” he sighed.

“I’m so glad you were honest with me and I’m still really sorry for spitting on you, and for Bucky shoving you, and for everything awful that went down between us. And some part of me is always gonna love you, but—”

“I know,” he nodded, clearly disappointed but resigned in a peaceful way. “It’s okay. I had my chance, I blew it, and if this Bucky guy has his then I just hope he isn’t taking it for granted.”

You smiled a little. “He’s not.”

“Then I’ll get dressed and go. Please direct me to his favorite shirt, so that I may steal it,” he requested formally, making you laugh, but you weren’t ready to let it go just yet; instead, you stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

“You’re a good friend, Sam,” you mumbled against his bare chest.

“Yeah, kinda wish I wasn’t though,” he sighed as he hugged you back.

“Kinda wish I’d made you get dressed before hugging you,” you admitted, the awkwardness of his nudity finally catching up with you.

“Yeah…” he agreed in a whispered sigh.

//

His palms were actually sweaty; well, at least one of them was. He hadn’t been this worked up about a date since high school.

But there was so much more riding on that now than there was then. If he blew this, you probably would dump him for good, and he’d become ‘that guy Y/N Y/L/N dated for a minute’ to the rest of the world.

And there was so much more to him than that— he was learning to really let that shine after three weeks of therapy on Mondays and Thursdays— and so much more to his relationship with you, but it would still be pretty humiliating. More importantly, he would be heartbroken if he never got a chance to hold you again, kiss you again, tell you he loved you not during a fight…

His eyes glanced to the door instinctively when someone stepped in, but it still wasn’t you. He checked his watch and closed his eyes: it was still a few minutes early, you probably wouldn’t be here until 6:30, since that was when you’d agreed to meet when you discussed all this over text. But the length of time between 6:27 and 6:30 just seemed to keep getting longer and longer.

When you finally walked in, it was like one of those movie moments where everything slowed down, the ambient noise and background music faded away, and all he could see was you. If this was it, at least he got to see you like this one last time.

He waved you over, watching you walk closer and feeling his heart race as you pulled him into a hug.

“I missed you,” he blurted out right away.

“Missed you too,” you mumbled back, pulling from the embrace as he moved to pull out your chair for you.

“So,” he began as he sat down, “do you… want me to go first? Or do you want to go first?”

“I love you,” you said instantly, and he couldn’t fight a wide smile.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” you grinned, “I think you should go first.”

“Well, now that you say that suddenly I forget everything I’ve been practicing in the mirror all day,” he chuckled. “I already told you I’ve been in therapy, and they finally got me on stuff for my PTSD… it feels weird to say it, to talk about it like I really have it… but I do, and I’m working on not being ashamed of that. What I am ashamed of is the way I treated you that day, how I let my anger get the best of me and how I hurt you when you’re the most important person in my life. You didn’t deserve that. And if I haven’t said it enough, I’m truly sorry.”

“I know,” you nodded, “thank you. I’m glad you’re getting help… I don’t want to see you like that for your own sake, too.”

“Just because you don’t hate me doesn’t mean you have to forgive me. And just because you forgive me doesn’t mean you have to take me back,” he reminded you softly.

“But I do forgive you, and I do want you back,” you promised. “And I want to apologize, too, for the things I did wrong… obviously it’s basically impossible for me to hurt you physically, you’re so much stronger than I am, but I hurt you with how I handled some things and I regret that.”

“It did hurt, but I still reacted poorly at basically every turn. I shouldn’t have gotten jealous of Sam in the first place, if you and him have something going on then that’s none of my business—”

“Of course it’s your business, Bucky, you’re my boyfriend!” you laughed. “You don’t need to be jumping for joy when I talk to my ex, you just need to not be that aggressive about it.”

“Am I your boyfriend?” he asked sheepishly. “Is he your ex?”

"When you came over the other day, and he was there… nothing happened, really. He came over, I told him I didn't want to be anything more than friends, he asked to use my shower… I don't know how to prove it to you—"

"You don't have to," he shook his head. "If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened."

“I mean, we hugged,” you remembered. “And he took your Fleetwood Mac shirt.”

“He what?” Bucky yelped, but then calmed himself down immediately. “Whatever, it’s fine, the point is that I have a lot of shit I still need to work on. Because the truth is, you’re not mine—”

“No, I—”

“Really, you’re not. You’re your own person. That’s what made me fall in love with you in the first place, I love that you’re independent and strong and… maybe a little crazy, but you’re exactly who you need to be. You don’t belong to me.”

“I don’t mind belonging to you as long as it’s fair, Bucky; as long as we belong to each other.”

“Sweetheart, you always had me,” he laughed. “From day one.”

“Then let’s figure your shit out. Believe it or not, I’ve got shit too… commitment issues, abandonment issues, daddy issues—”

“Ooh, I have that one too!” he beamed, making you laugh. “You know, when I was talking to my therapist, she had me do this thing where I talked about my hopes and stuff and, I don’t know, maybe it’s dumb but I wanted us to do that. I want to know what you’re hoping for for this.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “well, I’m hoping that you’ll move back in soon but not right away, maybe in a few months? I want us to get better at being apart, it’ll come in handy when I have to go to far off places for filming and stuff.”

“Totally with you,” he agreed, “might have to start buying some real furniture for my place though.”

“What about you?” you prompted.

“I’m hoping that you still think I'm cute enough to put up with some of my crap," he smirked, "if not all of it."

"Definitely," you grinned.

“I’m hoping that in the future, if you’re upset, you’ll tell me and we can work it out, and then have make-up sex," he added.

“Deal,” you chuckled.

“And, if I’m being honest,” he continued, leaning in closer and lowering his voice, “I’m hoping that I can take you home tonight.”

It was so simple, but it made a shiver run down your spine. This distance had caused more than just your heart to grow fonder, and you were craving his touch more than ever. “Where’s home?” you asked coyly.

“It’s wherever you wanna go,” he purred. “Your place, my place, the back of your car—”

“That one,” you nodded eagerly, “definitely that one.”

//

You wanted to go right then and there but he made you sit through the whole dinner, with all the trappings of wining and dining, though for you it sometimes felt more like whining and dying because you needed him so bad you couldn't think. But he stayed patient, keeping up the conversation, asking more about a new project you were tentatively linked with, telling you more about the newest improvements to his prosthetic.

He picked up the check, which was absurd to you but he insisted, and escorted you to your car as if his intentions were just gentlemanliness even though you knew it was far worse than that.

He (gently) pinned you up against the side of the car, kissing you slowly, making you melt like it was no effort for him at all. As his lips made their way to your ear, he whispered to you darkly, "get in the back and spread your legs for me."

You were sure you'd never obeyed an instruction so fast, hopping in and happily watching him climb in behind you. He instantly knelt down between your spread legs, holding you by your thighs as he pushed your dress up, and you were already lifting your hips up to let him pull your panties down to your ankles.

"So eager," he whispered happily, kissing his way up one of your legs and never breaking his gaze away from yours. Your mouth fell slack as you watched him get higher and higher, closer to where you were already dripping with need. "Been wanting to do this since that night, however many months ago, where I had to watch somebody else do this to you," he admitted with a grin that nipped at your inner thighs. "I know I've tasted you a thousand times since then, but I wanted to do it here."

There was a lot you could say to that, but it was all lost to a gasp as he licked one long, thin stripe right across your entrance and over your clit. Already you were shaking and grabbing his hair— he'd grown it out just enough that you could really dig your fingers into it, but even so he kept his teasing pace.

He kept going, that slow and torturous cycle where just as your clit got some much-needed attention, he started back over at your leaking opening again.

"The fuck are you doing down there, trying to figure how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop?" you finally groaned, making him chuckle at how demanding you'd become.

"I'm just making sure I do this right," he dismissed. "Want more, baby?"

"Please," you shuddered. "Need your tongue inside me."

He grinned and put you out of your misery, really latching his lips onto you now as he pushed his tongue inside and curled it against your g-spot. It was enough to make your back arch dramatically and your fingers clench on his hair, a little growl echoing out of his mouth and into your body in response.

Your legs were accidentally clamping down on his head each time he sucked on your clit, but he didn't seem to mind, if anything it egged him on.

"C-close, so close," you chanted our warning as his hands tightened on your thighs he gave wide laps to your throbbing button.

"Say you love me baby," he mumbled his demand against your skin.

"Bucky, yes, I love you," you whimpered. "Love you so much, fuck, I'm gonna come…"

He nodded as he wrapped his lips around your clit and kept sucking, harder than ever, until your whole body was literally quaking and you weren't sure if you had closed your eyes or if your vision just went black for a second. As if that weren't enough, he kept going until you had to push him off of you by his forehead, shivering and catching your breath as aftershocks rocked your body.

"You're so amazing," he groaned huskily as he sat up and pulled you into a rough kiss, the taste of your pleasure coating your tongue as it tangled with his. Just as you were about to reach down and attempt to operate his belt buckle with your tingling fingers, he pulled back from the kiss a moment too soon. "And now you get to drive yourself home," he grinned, patting you on the cheek reassuringly.

"What? That's it?!" you squawked.

"You just came so hard you nearly blacked out and you're asking me if that's it?" he smirked incredulously.

"I just thought you would want to, you know… go all the way," you explained, cringing at the immature phrase.

"Hey, I'm a gentleman, and this is still our first date," he reminded you.

"But aren't you, you know…?"

"Oh, I am," he nodded quickly, leaning in to bite at your neck. "Don't worry about me, princess, I can take care of myself." He chuckled at your whimper and pulled back to look right into your eyes. "But it's not about me, is it? You want my cock all for yourself, don't you?"

You nodded, making him giggle sweetly.

"Well, you're just gonna have to wait," he cooed, poking the tip of your nose with his finger and laughing harder at your needy whine. "We'll go out again next weekend and maybe if it goes well, it'll lead to something more, alright?"

"Okay," you sighed, "I can wait a week. I think."

He smiled and kissed you again, helping you pull your panties back up and rubbing your thigh appreciatively. "Goodnight," he whispered against your lips, slipping out of the car and shutting the door behind him.

You sighed and let your head fall back against the seat, watching out the window as he walked back to his bike. You hated to see him go, but you did love watching him walk away.

//

two years later…

“Will the Six Million Dollar Man be joining us?” Sam asked with a smirk as he glanced to the door of the bowling alley, checking to see if anyone had walked in.

“When he gets off of work,” you promised.

“Why do you call him that?” Natasha asked Sam innocently.

“You’ll see,” Sam promised, kissing his girlfriend on the cheek, but you figured there was a pretty good chance she wouldn't get the reference anyway.

Right on cue, Bucky appeared in the doorway and you and Sam waved him to the correct lane. “Hey guys,” he greeted, “hey babe,” he pulled you into a quick kiss. “And happy birthday, Sam.”

“Shh, keep it down, we don’t want any Hollywood people to find out that I’m aging,” Sam joked. “Are you gonna join the game or just observe?”

“I’ll join, if it’s not too late,” Bucky decided.

“Since when do you bowl?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Since I got the prosthetic recalibrated to throw the perfect strike every time,” he winked.

Beers and turns went pretty quickly after that, light conversation interspersed in between, until the more raucous parts of the evening died down and you left Bucky for a moment to join Sam at the bar.

Sam nodded to acknowledge you as you leaned beside him, and you ordered yourself one more drink before you called it a night.

“So, Natasha,” you started the conversation, watching the way Sam couldn’t hide his smile. “She’s great.”

“Yeah, she’s really something,” he agreed. “I wanted you guys to meet her sooner, but you were gone filming for so long and all.”

“Don’t fuck this one up, Sam,” you threatened.

“I’m trying not to!” he defended, before looking around like he was trying to make sure no one was looking. As you furrowed your brow and wondered what he was up to, he pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket and showed you a picture: a ring, with a massive diamond and accents of citrine.

“Holy shit…” you sighed, pulling the phone closer to get a better look.

“Had it custom made, I’m gonna pick it up tomorrow,” he explained, putting the phone away. “I don’t even know how I’m gonna ask her yet… I just know I need to snag this one before she slips through my fingers.”

“You’re really like a whole new man,” you realized aloud.

“I’m telling you, this girl… she really changed everything for me,” he sighed wistfully, and you nodded because you knew what that was like.

“I knew you just needed a good woman to straighten you out, Wilson,” you joked, patting him on the shoulder, “my only mistake was ever thinking it was me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was you, too,” he smiled softly. “I really loved you, even when I was stepping out on you… and I think I needed to love you, and to lose you, to be here now.   So, thank you.”

“Uh, you’re welcome, I guess,” you laughed a little, taking a slow sip of your drink.

“And if she says yes, I’m gonna need all the marriage advice you have to offer,” he bargained.

“I mean, we’ve only been married for a month,” you chuckled, “I don’t think we’re far enough into it to really provide significant guidance.”

“And you’ve already gone through so much together.  Is he doing alright?  You know, his nightmares and stuff…”

You glanced over and where Bucky and Natasha were chatting, admiring how at ease he looked; he usually had a harder time with new people.  “Yeah, it’s been a lot better, he’s on new meds… how did you know about that?”

“He talks to me sometimes,” Sam admitted.  “And as someone who has played a PTSD-striken veteran in not one, but two major motion pictures, I’m sort of an expert,” he winked, but then got serious again.  “I would’ve asked him how he was doing myself but he wouldn’t let me ask him personal stuff on my birthday.”

“I bet he’d let you ask him for his opinion on the ring you just showed me.”

“Um, why would I want his opinion when he bought you that?” he grimaced, pointing at the ring on your finger.  “I mean, sapphires?  Really?”

“Cut it out,” you laughed, shoving him on the shoulder.

“Okay, fine,” he relented. 

“Are you coming to my premiere tomorrow, by the way?” you asked.  “I have it on good authority you were invited, since I demanded it.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he nodded, “Nat really wants to go, too.  She’s a big fan of your work.”

“Well, tell her she was great in that one about the missing girl,” you replied.  

“I’ll be sure to tell her exactly that.”

“We should head home, you know how early premiere prep starts,” you sighed with an exhausted roll of your eyes, finishing the last of your drink before grabbing Sam on the shoulder.  “Good luck with however you decide to pop the question with Nat.  Let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded and let you go, and once you got Bucky’s attention and said goodbye to Nat, the two of you made your way out back to the car.

“I’m glad you and Sam get along,” you reminded him as you squeezed his hand.

“What gives you that impression?” he scoffed.

You shook your head and smiled, letting him walk you to the car in silence.

Less than 24 hours later, you held his hand in just the same way as you sat beside each other in the screening auditorium, watching your latest film fade to black and hearing the crowd at the premiere— mostly cast, crew, and critics— erupt into applause.

"I have a little surprise for you," you whispered in his ear as the credits began to flash.

"I am not gonna let you blow me in this crowded theater," he instantly scolded.

"No, not that," you giggled, although you secretly wondered how much less crowded the theater would have to be for him to let you try it.  "Just wait until my name comes up."

Written and Directed by Hope Van Dyne

A Paramount Pictures Film

In Association with Europa

And then there it was, in big white letters, just as much of a trip to see as the first time you saw your name on the big screen.  But something very important had changed.

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes

Everyone at the screening was clapping and cheering, but you were so focused on him that his whisper was the only thing you heard.  "Sweetheart," he gasped, and you smiled wide.  "You didn't have to—"

"I wanted to."

"It's just a stage name, if you want to keep it the same—"

"Buck, really.  I want your name there with mine."

"But your credits…" he protested, though the break in his voice made it clear he was tearing up.  "You're an actress and you've established your career already and it's so important to you—"

"Hey," you soothed, reaching up to brush your hand over his cheek, forcing him to look at you.  "Your wife is the most important thing I've ever been."

[joyaphoria]

the five chances you give him (5)

pairing: suna x f!reader

note: this is the last chapter! i hope you all enjoyed :)

summary: suna knew that he was doing something wrong, but he refused to acknowledge it. therefore, you slowly dropped five major hints for him, hoping that he would notice them and take action to fix your broken relationship. suna really did notice them, he just didn’t figure out in time that you were actually going to leave.

series masterlist | directory

© 𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢

part five: rin became rintaro; then it became suna

"oh baby... nobody said that it was going to be easy." mei cooed, her voice softer than usual. she repeatedly kissed the top of your head as you cried into her lap.

"i k-know but.." you spoke through your sobs, snot along your sleeves. "i-i really hoped t-that he would ch-change.."

it's been just over two months since you've started changing your behaviour around rin, but he didn't seem to react to it—no, he may have changed, but only a bit. it wasn't enough.

you knew that this was unavoidable, and that it had to be done. the longer it takes for you to get this over with, the longer it will take for you to get over it.

so when mei sent you home that night, she reassured you that it will all be worth it in the end, and that you will find someone better.

but the fact that he was waiting for you at the same table that you used to wait at, every single night, didn't help at all.

"where were you?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

you stood there for a second with your shoes still on, and folded over with laughter.

his heart flutters. whens the last time you laughed in front of him?

"sorry," you sniffled through the laughter, the aftermath from crying earlier doing you no justice. "it's just that i used to sit in that same chair, waiting for you to come home, you know?"

hesitating for a moment, he decided on getting up and walking over to you, although he didn't know what to do.

"y/n." he's looking down at you now, resisting the urge to reach out and take hold of your hands.

"rintarou."

now that caught both of you off guard.

it slipped out without a second thought on your end, and you were visibly shocked.

as was suna, except he was more afraid than anything else. he knew what this meant—he was no longer rin to you, but rintarou.

he should be grateful though, because he knew what eventually might come next. he knew that it wouldn't be rintarou for long, and that as soon as it changes, it would be over; everything would be over.

"were you crying?" he whispers, reaching out to wipe at your tear stained cheeks. except you wouldn't let him, grabbing his wrist in time. God—mei would be so proud; as would that kind lady from the cafe.

"why should you care?" you spat, letting go of his wrist to remove your shoes.

"because im your boyfriend." he said, although you didn't miss the quiver in his voice from that last word, as if he wasn't so sure anymore.

you move past him and head straight for the bathroom; but suna didn't miss it. he heard what you mumbled on your way out—and it had him slumped against the wall (when you were out of sight, that is)

his fists are clenched and his heart is beating a little too fast, but he can't get his mind off of what you said.

"yea, well not for long"

five words, and yet they seemed to foreshadow his future.

-

there were two possible reasons that you could be waking him up at 10 in the morning.

you were either waking him up to tell him that it was over, and that you were leaving, or that it was over, and that he had to leave.

turns out there was a third reason.

"do you have practice today?" you asked, your voice a whisper.

"yeah.. why?" he got up into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. its been a while since you last entered this room, moving all your things to the guest room.

"oh. nevermind." you make a gesture to leave but he panics and grabs your arm. this could be an opportunity, and he wasn't about to lose it.

"i could um.. take the day off." he nods his head.

"are you sure?" when he nods his head yet again, your features soften.

"okay, well get dressed. i feel like going to a theme park."

you leave the room before he has a chance to answer, but he complies anyways.

his mind wanders to the picture that he broke in the heat of the moment awhile back—the one where you were both smiling at an amusement park, kids laughing in the bakground.

-

"let's go on that one!" you exclaim, pointing at the rollercoaster.

a soft grin takes over your face—and while it may not be your typical energetic one, at least it was still there.

now, suna wasn't a big fan of rollercoasters. he prefered to have you go on them, while he took the photos, but today's been the first time in a while that he's actually seen you happy, and he wanted to keep it that way.

you've been here all day, and it was already pretty dark, so they might be closing soon anyways.

when the cart had finally come back around, you and rin got on, with a guy slipping in on your side.

"you guys here together?" he asked, looking over you to make eye contact with suna.

you nodded, and he chuckled.

"im here with my girlfriend, but she doesn't like roller coasters as much as i do."

now you and him are making small talk, and suna is resisting the urge to tell the guy to shut up, and to go back to his own girlfriend.

when the ride finally starts, he feels relieved, even slipping his hand into your own.

your hand tenses, and he looks up to find a look of guilt soaked into your features.

he quickly unravels his hand from yours, settling it into his lap and looking away. he got too carried away to remember that a day of rides and fun wasnt enough to fix his mistakes.

as the ride starts climbing upwards, fear pumps through his veins.

he shuts his eyes, dreading the fall.

when it finally came, he opened his eyes and hugged himself to keep from screaming.

he looks over to you, and his heart does that thing again—it flutters.

with your hands in the air, your screams adorning his ears, he fell in love. all over again.

the moonlight caressed your pretty features as your eyes shut in pure bliss, and suna found tears falling out of his own.

the tears fell but he didn't sob—not once. you didn't look his way either—not once.

instead he looked away, quickly wiping the tears before someone could catch him. he missed this; he missed you.

when you two got off the ride later, he wonders if you would ever go to another theme park with him.

-

when you decide to leave, suna finds an employee walking around the park with a polaroid camera.

he asks him to take a picture of you, and places it in his wallet. he can't break it this time.

suna misses the look of guilt that slips past your face, as if it were never there.

-

when the car pulls into the parking lot, and you both get out, suna realizes that you weren't walking beside him.

he panics and turns around, where he finds you smiling. tears in your eyes.

"thank you for today, suna."

he freezes. he can't move anymore. he can't think.

"don't be silly. let's go inside." he's walking again, but when he doesn't hear a second set of footsteps, the tears wash over him.

"why aren't you coming?" his voice cracks as the tears stream down his face.

"i'm going to mei's. it's-it's over." you smile, wiping continuously at your eyes.

"y/n please, we can talk about this." he's running over to you, taking hold of your shoulders as he bends down to make eye contact. "we're fixable, okay? i promise we are." he doesn't make move to wipe away the tears that are falling.

you wipe away his tears, pulling him into a hug. "i'm so sorry."

he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight, afraid of having you slip out of his grasp. "please, don't leave me. i'll do anything, just give me another chance. i need you."

you wriggle out of his arms, and his fists clench at his sides.

"i gave you chances. i gave you too many. i have to go."

you're running now, and he can't decide if he should run after you or not. has he not caused you enough pain?

instead, he falls to his knees and cries.

that was it. he lost you—he lost everything.

the polaroid picture was burning a hole through his wallet.

-

when he finally musters up the courage to check the guest room a few days later, he sees all your things packed up in boxes.

you had it all planned out, didn't you?

-

when mei comes later that day to pick up your things, she finds suna curled into a ball on the guest room floor.

"suna. wake up."

his eyes open slowly, and she finds them red, his eyebags puffy and cheeks tear-stained.

"is y/n gonna come back?" he asks, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

mei shakes her head, and suna cries again.

she looks away, thanking the heavens that she wasn't in a relationship. she couldn't help but pity him as she collected her best friend's things, suna's sobs as a sort of background noise.

she couldn't be surprised—the lost of your entire world was enough to make any grown man cry.

-

heartbreak isn’t easy, but suna’s heart hurts without you. where he sleeps, where he bathes, it all reeks of your touch.

you’re everywhere here, all memories playing back to him like a movie. he’s reminded of you, and recovering addicts don’t test themselves; they dont stay around said addiction to see if they can restrain themselves.

and so suna moves out, running from the place that you’ve drenched in your presence.

he leaves the polaroid picture on the table.

[demigodreading]

Saving Mini Benson Pt:1

Request: From @youngjusticeimaginesus​:  Hi, I was wondering If maybe you'd be willing to do a oneshot where Olivia's daughter gets kidnapped by Lewis instead of Olivia?

Summary: That’s right my favorite peoples... This is going to be a two part mini series because there was no way everything that I needed to say could be done in a one-shot! I won’t go into much because I don’t want to give it away but please note THIS PART IS A DOOZY! The next one may be worse but still this arc made me cry in the show and I cried writing this

Characters: Olivia Benson, Fin Tutuola, Amanda Rollins, Nick Amaro, William Lewis, Donald Cragen, Reader

Relationships: Olivia Benson x Daughter! Reader

Warnings: MAJOR Violence, Guns, Cigarette Burns, Episode Spoilers, Alcohol, Smoking Weed, Mentions of Shootings, Death, William Lewis, Mentions of torture... (I Think that covers it but if it doesn’t please let me know)

Word Count: 2320 (Like I said.. there was no way this was gonna be just a oneshot.)

And with that all being said: Let’s jump into it.

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

Olivia and her daughter rarely fought but when they did neither one wanted to admit the other one was right. Olivia loved and hated her daughter for being so similar to her. Even now as she watched the miniature version of herself stalk the interview room the exact same way she would send her heart racing. Usually the similarities would result in a smile but not today. Today Olivia’s vision was a deep red as she confronted her daughter.

“Y/N you were caught smoking weed underneath the bleachers during class! So not only did you break one rule you broke two!” Olivia shouted, folding her arms.

“Wow glad that you know how to count,” Y/N mumbled looking out the window.

“What did you just say to me?”

“Look mom I just don’t get what the big deal is? It was one joint. One class!” Y/N retorted, throwing her hands up, “I am a straight A student who has a full ride scholarship to Harvard.”

“Yes, because Barba stuck his neck out on the line for you and put in a glowing recommendation,” Olivia spat, “What you did was careless. You could have ruined everything that was given to you.”

“You know for once in your life could you ever be fucking proud of me! I do everything that I can do to make you proud and yet at the end of the day I am never fucking good enough for you.”

“That’s not…” Olivia went to argue but was interrupted by Cragen opening the door.

“Olivia we got a problem. I need you right now,” He said, then shut the door without waiting for an answer.

“Just go save another poor unfortunate soul mom. Don’t worry about your daughter.  I’ll pick up my own pieces like I always do,” Y/N said, wiping tears from her face as she grabbed her coat.

Y/N stormed from the room before Olivia could stop her. She made her way through the precinct eyes trained to the floor as her mother’s voice rang out, “You better head straight home Y/N!  We are not done having this conversation and you are grounded!”

Choosing not to say anything, Y/N merely raised her hand in the air flipping her mother off before the doors shut with a loud slam behind her. Tears made dark spots on the concrete as Y/N made her way back to their apartment. Even the noises of the constant car honks and people screaming couldn’t drown out the voices in her head today. Failure. Waste of space. Stupid. No one. Unwanted. Unloved. 

It was the repeated song that kept her feet moving forward until she finally placed her key in the lock. She threw her bag by the kitchen island and threw her keys on the counter. She was about to turn on the living room light when a noise caught her attention. 

“Hello? Hello?”

As she turned the corner her vision was filled with the sight of a gun pointed right at her temple. A smirk crossed William Lewis’ face as he looked at Y/N, “Ah welcome home Little Benson. I was hoping that it would be your mother who was walking through the door but I guess you will have to do.”

Y/N went to scream but instead Lewis jammed the gun against her throat, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. One small slip of my finger and your mom will be left with a new kind of art all over her walls.”

Y/N let a single tear roll down her face before Lewis’ gun made contact with her skull and the whole world went black.

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

Olivia had already tried to call Y/N twice but it kept going straight to voicemail. The last known location had been their apartment so at least she had the sense to head straight home. The guilt in Olivia’s stomach was insurmountable. Watching her daughter explain that she never felt like she lived up to her standards. Olivia had promised herself when she had Y/N she would never end up like her mother. Yet there she was shaming her child for one mistake. Y/N was more than just a good kid, she was excellent. She was smart, beautiful, humorous, kind, and so much more. She was everything Olivia could have ever hoped for. Knowing that her daughter thought she wasn’t proud was the worst pain she could have.

After the third call Olivia finally decided to leave a voicemail, “Y/N I know you are mad but I need you to know something. I am proud of you and will always be proud of you. You are the best daughter and the most amazing human. I was rough on you early. Please let’s talk through this. I’ll be home soon with your favorite Chinese. Just don’t do anything stupid? I love you.”

When she hung up the phone she placed her head in her hands and let out a large sigh. Fin placed a reassuring hand on her back, “Liv, it is going to be okay. She is just being a teenager.”

“No Fin, you should have seen her. It was like I was physically taking her heart out and ripping it in front of her. I should have never said those things. I didn’t mean any of them… I was just upset.”

“She knows, they always know.”

Olivia merely shook her head and began to gather her things to head home. She walked out of the precinct without a goodbye and headed down the street to Y/N’s favorite Chinese place. They knew what she was going to order as soon as she walked in the door asking where Y/N was. Liv pushed off their question and scrolled through her phone as she waited for the food. Y/N’s phone was still off giving Olivia an eerie feeling as she finished the walk to the apartment. 

Once inside she noticed Y/N’s bag on the floor and her keys on the counter. There was a sudden rush of cold air that made her notice the window that was open to the fire escape. She shut it quickly and then moved to Y/N’s room. The door was still open with everything the way she had left it that morning. Once her calls were unanswered Olivia opened the window again crawling onto the fire escape. Sometimes Y/N would go to the roof to watch the sun slowly crawl behind the buildings.When she reached the top however she was met with an unsettling emptiness. 

Olivia reached for her phone to call the only person who was able to calm her anxiety lately, “Amaro, Y/N isn’t here. I can’t find her. What if something happened to her?”

“She probably just went to a friend’s house to get away,” Amaro replied stirring the contents of his drink, “She will be back in the morning just to relax. Sleep off the anger and come back with a clear head tomorrow.”

Liv pondered this suggestion over and over deciding what she should do. When the silence became too long Amaro interjected again, “Liv, I’m serious. You two had the biggest blow out that I have seen in awhile. Give her time to be mad at you and think. If you smother her she might only push further away from you.” She thanked her partner for the advice and then shoved her phone back in her pocket taking a sweep of the roof once again. Finally she slowly made her way back to the apartment shutting the window with a slam before locking it. Olivia wandered over to the kitchen moving the cereal that covered the top of the fridge to get to her secret cupboard. From the opening she pulled a large bottle of her favorite red wine. She popped the cork and decided to forgo a cup taking a long swig directly from the green glass. A large sigh escaped her lips as she plopped down on the couch going over the events of the day in her head.

As the contents of the bottle slowly drained till there was nothing else Olivia realized her fears were all coming true. She was becoming her mother. A woman she never once wanted to be. Three empty bottles later she finally curled under Y/N’s sheets crying into her pillow until she finally was able to fall asleep.

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

The next morning when Y/N did not return and her phone was still shut down all bets were off. Olivia was furious but more importantly she was terrified. Something was horribly wrong. Her morning was spent talking to Y/N’s two best friends and searching their houses for her. When that search was unsuccessful Olivia went to the school hoping Y/N had gone there. However, she had been absent all day and there hadn’t even been a call to excuse her from the day. 

When the morning bled into the afternoon Olivia was running around the city to all of Y/N’s usual hangout spots. The search of the library told her that Y/N hadn’t been there in over a week. The local bakery hadn’t seen her in three days. The coffee shop where Y/N always bought Olivia’s coffee when she came to see her at work had seen her two mornings ago but nothing since then. Even the old lady that had Y/N over twice a week to help her with errands and chores around the house hadn’t seen her. 

It was dark by the time that Olivia fell into her desk chair at the precinct. With her head in her hands she let the tears fall. A whole day was gone and there was still no sign of her daughter. If she had been kidnapped they were running out of time and losing it quickly. The longer she was out there the longer the person had to get away with whatever they wanted.

The squad huddled around in Cragen’s office looking at Olivia curled over her desk. Rollins was the first one to speak, “I bet you Lewis has something to do with this.”

“And what makes you think that?” Amaro asked, “There are plenty of people who could have a vendetta against Liv.”

“It’s just a feeling.”

“Yeah well have you ever considered the idea that maybe Y/N just ran away,” Amaro retorted.

Fin, Cragen, and Amanda all turned towards Amaro, shocked. Cragen was the first one to speak, “I know you haven’t been here long Amaro but this isn’t Y/N. Something is horribly wrong and we are going to figure out what is going on. Fin and Amanda go check out Lewis’ usual hiding spots. I’ll take Liv through her apartment once again to see if we missed anything.”

“And me cap?”

“Amaro… you stay here and set up a tip line,” Cragen responded curtly and then they all disappeared to find where Y/N had disappeared to.

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

Y/N woke with a jolt as she felt cold water splash her face. She was met with Lewis staring only a couple inches away from her face. He grinned and grabbed Y/N’s chin as she tried to look away, “Well well there. Looks like someone is finally awake. Feeling thirsty?”

Y/N nodded her head yes waiting to scream as he curled his fingers around the edge of the duct tape. As he was about to pull it away he jammed a gun against Y/N’s throat, “Make any noise and I will shove this gun straight down your throat.”

Finally when he pulled the tape away Y/N spit right in his face, “Just shoot me already if you are going to threaten me with it.”

“And miss out on all of our fun Mini Benson. I think not. There is plenty that I want to do to you before then.”

Y/N began to panic as Lewis lit another cigarette. She remembered the way the others had burned against her chest and sides. She had lost count after twenty perfect circle burns and after the second pistol whip to the face she had passed out a second time, She couldn’t go through all of that again.

“My mom knows I am missing and she will be out looking for me. Just let me go and she will never have to know that you did it. Please,” YN begged.

“What is she going to think about that bruise on your face? Or the marks on your skin? I can’t let you go… plus I know that you both fought before you came home. I bet you that she thinks you just ran away and are leaving her,” Lewis chuckled.

“How.. how did you know that we fought?

“This lovely voicemail your mother left you,” Lewis said, placing your phone against your ear.

Tears began to run down Y/N’s face as she heard the apology her mother had sent her. Damnit! Why did I have to fight with her? We could have avoided all of this. Is the mantra that ran through her head as Lewis slammed the phone against her head and threw it at the wall.

“She isn’t coming for you,” Lewis snickered.

“Please… just let me go. I will do anything.”

Lewis pulled his gun and placed it against Y/N’s scalp, “You are still bargaining with me? Really. We are way past that baby.”

“I am the daughter of an NYPD detective. A decorated well known detective. My mother, her partner, her squad, the entire department will hunt you down. You think that you’ve put people through hell. It will rain back down on you.”

“You know what… let it rain,” Lewis said and then hit Y/N once again making her world go black for a third time. 

[jiminrings]

just wanna say: stemkoo + yoongs redemption arc. yoongi finally acknowledging jungkook as a love interest to oc and accepting it and jungkooks kinda confused because what now? is he safe alone with yoongi? are they brothers? and yoongis just "yeah kid you're here now and I see you but I'd still give you a knuckle sandwich anytime if u even breath wrong next to my baby soulmate"

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo has a breakdown over driving alone for the first time, and it just so happens that yoongi's the only one there for him. alternatively, it's koo and yoongs' redemption arc :-)

warnings: mention and descriptions of a panic attack

jungkook will not cry

not right here, in an emergency bay that's just five meters away from a bustling gas station where there's a convenience store and a couple of food chains and cafés he can go to in order to clear his head

not right now, in his brand-new car that his parents excitedly bought for him once they caught the news that he's already obtained his driver's license. he's admittedly already used to a lofty lifestyle, but somehow guilt settled in when he remembers telling his parents at night, and the next morning, his dad's calling him to come out of his dorm to see such a big purchase they didn't think twice in buying

jungkook already drove before. countless of times!!

tried it the first three times in his hometown with his dad on the front seat and his mom at the back, a little amused yet more frantic because this is perhaps the most frustrated state he's put his parents in

he's also took 30 hours in driving lessons during break and the happiest that he's been during the whole time is the part wherein he gets home by foot, relieved that he doesn't have to shared a confined space with his instructor that's far too chatty and intimidating at the same time

most importantly, jungkook drove endlessly and ultimately learned from you, jin, and yoongi!! he remembered mentioning in passing that he doesn't have a driver's license yet and he could distinctly remembering the three of you arguing about who'd teach him first

of course it was you whom he picked first, and it became a driving lesson that racked immense pressure and comfort from him

you taught him how to properly control his gas and brakes and then did jungkook only learn that he's a little too heavy-footed with the pedals, mistakenly thinking that he should press his wHOLE foot instead of just atleast a fourth of it

he learned how to accelerate without making the car jump and brake without making a god-awful screech!! also learned how to pull up the handbrake with ease because his wrist's too tensioned the first time around

seokjin taught him how to turn and park smoothly. how to actually command the wheel without his hands getting wrung and just nailing commando with like tHREE maneuvers max!!! max!!!

also jin taught him (reluctantly) how to reverse while looking back and holding headrest of the front seat bc jungkook read from somewhere that people apparently (read: you) find it attractive

and well... yoongi?

yoongi taught him everything

jungkook was a lil scared when he realized that it was yoongi's turn to teach him, but surprisingly, and uh well nO offense to his parents and instructor and girlfriend and girlfriend's friend,, but yoongi is the best teacher he's ever had

he taught him how to actually drive-drive if that's supposed to explain everything

he taught him how to not grip the steering wheel a little too tight and heavy. to be relaxed enough that he drives his car and not the other way around, but not too relaxed that the car feels too light in his command

yoongi taught him how to overtake and counterflow when necessary and how not to be a push-over and let every car pass even if it's him who has the right of way

jungkook was taught how to not squirm and be shy with honking because it's literally tHERE to be used!! yoongi taught him not to cower when there's a huge 4x4 with the truck horn that's aiming to squeeze in between lanes and just drive like normal

he learned how he shouldn't trust the mirrors at all times because it's not the accurate depiction of how far he is from backing into a tree and instead, open the window to see it for himself

yoongi taught him about the gearbox so eASILY that jungkook almost cried in realization that he finally managed to comprehend it fully without feeling the need to search in between stops

...

yes, jungkook did drive countless of times.

but this is the first time ever that jungkook drove alone and by himself; no company at all to tell him how he's going a little too fast or a little too near to the vehicle in front of him

he's alone. driving. in his own car. and now he's parked by himself near the gas station and the radio's playing a little too loud.

in second thought?

jungkook will cry

you're not there to console him as soon as you see his bottom lip tremble and his eyes freeze because you're someplace else

you're on a road trip with seokjin because it's his niece's first birthday and his whole extended family would be there and he doesn't know if he can actually handle that by himself ://

his family already knows you anyway and they're awarE of how their own relatives could be so now jin's immediate kim family is relying on you to be also their breather <3

the whole reason that jungkook decided to go onto this mini roadtrip by himself in the first place was to surprise you!!

he heard you over movie night once that you wanted to try these famous donuts from this shop that's an hour and a half drive away, and from your descriptions alone, yoongi and jin aND jungkook decided that they also wanted to try

and kook's just being a loving boyfriend and friend (?) that he made the collective decision that while you and jin were out, while yoongi's in the dorm — he's driving by himself for an hour and a half to get the donuts

but no, he hasn't even reached the donut place yet because he's an hour away still

he suddenly felt that his legs froze and he couldn't move at all because he realized that he's holding a wheel in his hands and the consciousness of it all makes his eyes widen, feeling the smooth leather go heavy within a blink

it was his sudden fear that the car's driving him and he doesn't have any control of it even if he has the means to do so, his mind too far in that he swerves to the right-most lane without his blinkers on and without checking his side mirrors

and even more concerningly, jungkook's still thinking about donuts even if he's in a state in which he's feeling a little dizzy and his chest is tight, having trouble breathing with his tummy aching that he feels he want to throw up

he can't think nor breathe straight and it physically pains him, the only thing registering in his hazy mind being his phone, the lockscreen that's set to you being the first thing that greets him

his fingers tremble as they move on their own and he doesn't realize it, only being jolted when his phone silently rings on his palm because even he doesn't know how nor whom he called

he's already removed his glasses to rub his eyes but they just blearily ache when he tries to see the name on his phone, his eyesight being blurred by the tears he's trying to keep at bay

jungkook's phone stops ringing until it finally connects, pressing his phone to his ear as confused as he is because he can't even remember who he called

"hello? why are you calling me, kid?"

it's yoongi.

jungkook breathes a sigh of relief that of all the people he's accidentally called — it's yoongi

he immediately welcomes the gruff voice, a sob racking through his entire body that he didn't even realize he was holding back

"y-yoongi! oh my god, yoongi! i-it's you!"

yoongi was merely napping when he felt his phone ring beside his pillow, an unfamiliar ringtone reaching his ears that he felt compelled to check it

his tone couldn't have been more abrupt but it's greeted nothing but warmly, the voice from the other side of the line making him focus concentratedly

jungkook greets him so eagerly and panickedly that it worries him, the large gulp of air convincing him that it's not just his airconditioner that's turned all the way up

"what happened to you? are you okay?"

jungkook whimpers at the question, stuttering over words that haven't even formed as he looks frantically left and right to see if his spot at the emergency bay is bothering anyone

there isn't anyone approaching him and-

"h-hazard! i-i need the hazard on."

all the red he's seeing reminds him of his hazard lights, remembering your words to keep them on if you're a potential hazard on the road

yoongi's remaining sleepiness dissipates as his eyebrows knot, overwhelmingly alert as he stands up from bed and find a shirt to put on before he even knows what's going on

"hazard?" he parrots, trying to see if he's slept through some urgent texts from any of you that could make him put the pieces together. "i need you to calm down for me, jungkook."

jungkook's busy eyes snap in one place at the mention of his name, blinking owlishly at the recognition of what yoongi's saying

"i-i forgot how to drive. the wheel — the wheel b-became too heavy on my hands," he stammers, looking at the circle that's in front of him that feels and now looks foreign to him. "i-i drove alone because-"

yoongi's heart pangs at the observation that jungkook's voice is breaking and desperate, turning off his fan before he scurries outside his bedroom and double-checks to turn off everything

"yeah, jungkook? come one, you can do it. you drove alone because?"

he once again affirms jungkook by reminding him of his own name to try and ground him, slipping on his shoes with a vague outline of a plan in his mind

"donuts. i-i heard — y-you all wanted these donuts and the uhm, t-the three of you had a bad day last week, right? i-i think. i'm not over there and you're the only who's home and i-i figured that-" his voice gives out at the end, unable to keep his tears from falling at this point. "help, hyung."

yoongi blinks once, twice, before he finds his voice

"i'm still proud of you, jungkook. good job," he rummages through the bowl of money the three of you drop your change into, dumping the entirety of it as he hopes it's enough to tip the cab driver he's gonna tell to drive as fast as he could. "now can you tell me what you see? can you tell me where you are? where you're parked? hyung will help you."

...

......

it takes yoongi a total of fifteen minutes to reach jungkook at the emergency bay by the side of the road.

his car's pristine and intact and it calms him to no end, immediately calling jungkook to tell him he's there so he wouldn't have to startle him with a knock

yoongi enters the driver's seat and his eyes immediately whip to jungkook who's already transferred to the passenger seat, his face teary and blotchy as he shakily grins at him through it all

"hyu — yoongi! h-hi!! oh my god, you're here."

he nods and softly smiles, adjusting the seat to accommodate his preferences that it makes kook put his seatbelt out of reflex

he's beyond happy to have another person in the car with him, enough to make him feel surrounded and reassured that he can't hear his breathing echoing in his vehicle

he's already mostly regained his breath but it picks up when yoongi doesn't drive straightly like what he thought he would — instead, yoongi drives five meters ahead and turns to the gas station, wordlessly finding a parking spot

"... b-but the donuts. y-you guys wanted the donuts, right?"

he purses his lips at the inquiry, shaking his head somberly

he can't even begin to gRASP why after all this, he's still focused on the donuts that he meant to get for the three of you — still beyond desperate to secure what was meant to cheer everyone up despite having gone through a new driver's version of hell

"how about we grab a bite first and then we could get the donuts after? my treat."

jungkook was about to politely say no and apologize for imposing, the words being caught on his mouth when yoongi reverses into a parking spot swiftly and gets out of the car before he can put a word in, already having him opening the door on his side

he looks up at him as if he's seen a ghost, a slow tick of a minute on his mind reminding him that yoongi's here for him

yoongi looks down to see the younger guy that still looks very much like what he's been through just minutes ago, making him spring into action

he wordlessly combs his hand through his hair like he does with you when you have a fever and cannot be bothered to keep up with appearances, pushing it back neatly

he grabs jungkook's glasses that are muddled with dried tears and fingerprints from the console, cleaning it with the end of his shirt before handing it back to him

"bite first, then we'll get donuts. i promise."

oh my god

is he having an out of body experience

jungkook can walk but he doesn't feel like it because now his steps are toO light, feeling as if he's gliding through air with ease

he follows yoongi's shadow and stares at the back of his head, the newly-dyed pink of it gleaming underneath the morning sun that he tries to focus on it instead of his raging thoughts

yoongi walks into a serene café that's only the calming kind of busy; people here and there in their own conversations, blenders humming and silverware clinking

it's not until yoongi tells jungkook to pick a spot as he lines up to order that it trulY hits him what's happening, picking the comfiest spot his eyes laid on

there's no build-up to the moment because unlike their previous interactions where it's only the two of them, there's no score in the background.

there's no tension nor ill intent and the only thing that's there between them is a comfortable silence, one that jungkook's insistent to break this one time

"i-i'm sorry i called you. you were probably busy. i didn't know what i was doing and-"

"no," he cuts him off, sheepishly putting a hand on his nape. "i called you, jungkook."

"huh?" he couldn't hold back the audible surprise that left him, making him backtrack instead of continuing his sentence

yoongi thinks that the truth wouldn't hurt, leaning to his chair as he relaxed to put the guy across him at ease somehow

"you did call me, but you dropped it in less than two seconds," he admits, drumming his fingers on the armrest. "i called you back."

jungkook visibly awes at that, head tilting as the confusion he has in his head doubles over and starts crawling on four limbs

"w-why did you that?"

was that it?

was that why he felt so confused when he could barely see a caller ID? it was ringing out for him to answer and not the other way around

yoongi's the one perplexed this time but he doesn't blame him, answering sincerely

"because i look out for you too."

there's a pregnant pause between them and yoongi could clearly see the way jungkook's shoulders slump, making him lean forward out of instinct because he thought he was gonna break down again

"i'm sorry," he looks up at him with glassy eyes, wide but not threatening to cry out of despair. "i'm sorry, yoongi."

he knows by that tone that jungkook's not talking about the call anymore, making him raise his hand to wave it off lightly

"we don't have to do this right now, kook. the both of us probably haven't even had breakfast yet."

the much-awaited talk between them has been set far enough for the perfect timing but the bulk of everything just points to now, only getting more strengthened when jungkook breaks the silence again. "but i mean it."

"i was so stupid back then and i didn't know how much i hurt you through y/n," he reflects back to how distraught and angry yoongi looked at him, not to mention the fact that seokjin told him how yoongi didn't sleep at all for a week because of how he was kept up just thinking and trying to protect you. "i-i know it must've hurt to see your soulmate hurt because of me and that she forgave me still. a-and made me her boyfriend, even."

his mouth dries because the younger boy recites his previous heartaches almost word per word, taking his time to digest each one

"i did hurt, jungkook."

there's no denying that. no cover-up of jin as he tries to boost everyone up can ever hide that. no lies to how tae, who barely even knows yoongi, felt his chest tighten when he came over one morning to deliver the cookies and see yoongi sitting outside your door with his ear pressed to it — trying to hear if you were crying while holds his own.

there's no denying either the truth that reflects why exactly yoongi made a cab driver break almost every traffic law to man just to get to jungkook faster.

"but y/n's not hurting anymore — i'm not hurting anymore," he enunciates. "i'm not mad at you anymore, jungkook."

the guy in question looks alarmed, sheepish even at the words he's been wanting to hear but couldn't believe now that they're being uttered

"you should be."

yoongi snorts because jungkook reminds him of you so so much, an uncanny resemblance between the guilt you've always tried to live with before trying to acquit

"i'll hold it over your head if it makes you sleep at night or remind you when you decide to act up again," he chuckles but he's met with jungkook's frantic no's, waving him off when he realizes that his egging's truly working. "but i don't have it in me to be mad at you for any longer."

it's the truth. it's the truth that yoongi always tried to refute because for the past weeks, all he's done is try to find the most miniscule flaw to try and make him hate jungkook

he's only thought once in his lifetime that he'd ever forgive jungkook, but now did it become crystal clear

"you've proved yourself enough, even jin said so," he admits humbly. "but i know you're not doing all of this to prove yourself to us or to me, kook."

he looks up at from his hands to train his gaze on his girlfriend's soulmate, listening attentively

"i know you do it from the heart."

he feels like crying but only this time is it for an entirely different and positive reason, a leap on his chest heightening tenfold

"as much as you rely on y/n — you can also rely on me too, jungkook."

the two of them hold eye contact and neither of them shy away from it, a silent fact in the air as they know that it's not only you who's linking them at this point, but rather because they're somewhat brothers at this point

"i forgive you."

"y-you forgive me?"

he feels his ears ringing in happiness as he tries to dodge the waiter who's blocking his view of yoongi with the way he's putting down the meals, frantically looking for confirmation

yoongi finds it cute, laughing as he throws his head back

"you're the one who does the quizbees. why are you making me spell it out?"

then he knows.

"you forgive me," he parrots, repeating it once more to himself

the two of them eat throughout thoughtful conversation, stemming from the inquiry of how yoongi made a thirty-minute drive into only half of it, until it bloomed to how kook claims to be forgetful but remembers a whisper about bread from a week ago

"tell me if you want to try and drive to the donut place," yoongi turns to him as he settles the bill, watching jungkook finish the last of his food as he throws him a sheepish smile — much like how you do

"i'll be watching over you, koo. don't worry."

.

.

.

how r we feeling bffs </3 i'll have to speak into the mic and say that this is perhaps the drabble i hurted the most while writing :O

as always, lmk what you think!! i love answering asks :D what do you want to see from the lunchbox lovers next? send them here <3

[sinner-as-saint]

‘Till We Bleed Out - 3.

Vampire!bucky x reader AU

Part 3 of this series. 

Run-through: Your car breaks down on a deserted road on a rainy night. You have no other option but to seek shelter from the nearest house you could find; the mansion, which happened to be the talk of the town for its mysteriousness along with its equally mysterious owner, Mr. Barnes. The universe can be tricky sometimes but the fact that you found yourself at that mansion’s doorstep at that time was no simple coincidence. That one night changes everything forever - quite literally. True love, past lives and creatures from folklore; turns out it’s all real. 

Themes throughout the series: vampire!bucky, fluff, smut, angst 

“Calm down, sweetheart.” 

He must’ve noticed you were on the verge of losing your mind. How could you not? You had so many questions. So many things you couldn’t wrap your brain around. What was the meaning of all this? 

“What is this?” you pointed at the painting; scared, nervous and baffled. 

Bucky walked further in, careful as to not make any sudden movement which would make you even more of a nervous wreck than you already were. “I’ll tell you everything, doll. Just calm down, alright. There’s nothing to be scared of. I’m right here with you.” 

You looked up at him in surprise. “Nothing to be scared of? There’s a painting of me and you dating back to 1872. That was almost a hundred and fifty years ago. But I met you just two days ago. None of this makes sense, none of it adds up. And that doesn’t bother you?” you sounded more sad and confused than scared. This isn’t normal. None of this is. “Who are you?” 

Despite knowing that someone else in your shoes would be screaming bloody murder and running for their lives by now, you stayed put. Despite the confusion, you felt protected. Something inside you knew no harm would come to you while Bucky’s around. But the rational side of you couldn’t afford listening to that side of you right now. Right now your brain needed concrete answers, not reassurance. 

“No. It doesn’t bother me.” He walked over and held you gently by the shoulders. “And if you let me explain, it won’t bother you either.” One look into his eyes and you felt yourself calming down already. 

“Make this make sense.” 

After he got you to sit down, in that very room, he began explaining. 

“I’m not exactly human, Y/N.” His first few words earned him a nod from you. 

“I figured that out a few minutes ago.” 

He continued. “And neither were you, in your previous lifetime.” That sentence shocked you. You didn’t know what was more surprising, learning that there was indeed a lifetime before this one or the fact that in the previous one, you and Bucky knew each other. “We were both vampires.” 

“Oh my God…” 

He paused for a while, trying to be as slow and as careful as he could be with his words. “We were married, you and I. And we were happy.” He said so and waited for your reaction. 

Your eyes watered and he noticed. “I’m… I was your wife?” you asked and he nodded. You thought back on all the things he told you about his wife; those were all about you. Your heart felt like it was being torn in two. “And I died.” he nodded again. “How did I die?” 

He took a deep breath and lowered his eyes to the dark carpet beneath his feet, that memory was always the hardest to revisit. “Our families were not exactly… friendly. Yours hated mine, and vice versa so our marriage was not something they could bear.” He let out a dry chuckle. He continued, a strange fire in his eyes; burning hot hatred. “They kept trying to break us apart,” he smiled, sadly, “but we were strong. Together.” He looked back up at you. “Until one day…” 

He stopped talking. He ran his fingers through his hair, he was hurting. You felt the intense need to just get up from the couch you were sat on, and walk over to where he sat and just comfort him. Maybe hug him and tell him it’s all okay now. But you remained seated, you couldn’t move. 

“Bucky… I need to know.” You figured it was a delicate subject but you needed to piece it all together. You were a mess at the moment. 

“We were returning home and we were attacked. By hunters.” 

You sat up straighter. “Hunters?” 

“Vampire hunters. Two different parties. Each anonymously hired and sent by our own families, ordered to have each of us killed. But you know, back then hunters had rivalry against each other as well. And ironically, the groups of hunters our family hired were not exactly seeing eye to eye with each other.” He let out another dry chuckle. “Upon reaching our home, they all forgot their initial purpose for a moment and began butchering one another instead, in the name of looming enmity. And you and I got caught in the crossfire. ” 

He paused. If it were physically possible he would’ve shivered at the memory; so tragically vivid in his mind. You waited for him to continue. “But some of them also remembered that they had been ordered to kill us both, so our front yard quickly became a battlefield.” He sounded bitter, angry. “We fought them off for a while but we were terribly outnumbered. I was wounded, so were you, and I tried to reach you but…” he trailed off, took a deep breath and continued, “they got to you first.” 

You tried to find the right thing to say but got nothing. Bucky spoke up again. “I was helpless. I couldn’t move. I had to watch as they… took you away from me.” He finally looked up at you and you were in shock. “Those sent by your family, what was left of them after the massacre at least, fled. Those sent by mine finished their job.” The look of hurt on his face was unbearable. “And I begged them. I begged them to kill me too but they just left me there.” 

You felt a weight on your chest. That was brutal. 

“You died at our doorstep.” He still remembered the last few moments he held you before you left… 

-

He somehow managed to get up and stumbled on his way to you, bullets and sharp stakes pierced all over his body as well as yours. You weren’t gonna make it, and he knew but he still begged you to stay. 

“You can’t leave me. You promised.” He cried, cradling your head on his lap. “Don’t leave me.” 

He watched how you used the little bit of energy left to choke out a few words. “I’ll find you again. Someday. I promise…” your body was getting heavier and heavier. Bucky felt like he was dying too. “I love you, Buck.” 

And with that, you closed your eyes forever. He sat there, your lifeless body in his arms and he screamed and yelled and cursed the universe. He was wounded, he would be healed by dawn. But you wouldn’t. He survived the attack that day, but part of him died along with you too. 

-

You cleared your throat. “How do you… how did you know it’s me? How can you be sure? What if I just look like her?” you looked up at the painting and he did too. 

He gave you a soft smile. “Chamomile and lavender tea is your favorite. You like red roses. You have a fear of deep water but you love the beach. You have this weird obsession with snakes. You love red wine. You could practically live in a library. Thunderstorms comfort you. You get a lot of déjà-vu, more than anyone you know. Also, you surely have a birthmark on your back, below your left shoulder. It perhaps hurts sometimes and you don’t know why, because regular birthmarks don’t hurt.” 

Your eyes widened more and more as he spoke, but you gasped when he mentioned the birthmark. “How do you know that?” Very few people knew of your rather strange birthmark which tingled, burned and hurt sometimes. 

“You were staked through the heart from the back. It left a mark on you.” He answered. “Forever.” 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to soak all this new information in. This was a lot to take in. 

You cleared your throat again. “I was a vampire.” You stated. Bucky nodded. “I married you.” He nodded again. “I can’t- how do I-,” 

“Hey, it’s a lot to take in. Take your time. Go to bed if you wish to.” His voice sounded so soft. 

Oh you couldn’t sleep, not with all this. You shook your head no, you had questions. “How long were we married for?” 

“Almost a century.” His answer made your jaw drop. 

“How old are you?” 

He chuckled. “250. Give or take a few years.” 

“Oh my God,” you sighed, genuinely surprised. You thought back on all that he said earlier, about your families, and asked, “You said our families were against our relationship.” He nodded. “Well, where are they now?” 

“Gone.” 

“What do you mean, gone?” 

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again. “After you left, I was unhinged. My memories of the couple of decades after your death is a little blurry. Apparently I went seeking revenge. But our friends found me and brought me back to sanity before I was gone completely and they told me that I had destroyed each and every last member of both our families.” 

“You killed them.” It wasn’t a question. 

“They deserved it. They took you away from me.” He sounded so broken, and hurt that you could feel your heart burn inside your ribcage. 

“When you say ‘our friends’ you mean…” you trailed off not knowing how to put it. 

He nodded. “Other vampires, yes. Most of them at least.” 

“This is so crazy.” You mumbled, looking down at your lap. This was too much to handle all at once. Bucky got up from his seat and walked cautiously over to you. 

He sat down on the edge of the wooden coffee table right in front of you and held his hand out. You placed your hand in his without a second thought. “You always had faith in the universe you know. You used to tell me that one single lifetime isn’t going to be enough for all the love that you and I have for each other. You used to always tell me that you’ll find me in the next one as well. And you did. You kept your promise. You’re home now, to me.” 

You felt a tear slide down your cheek. Those words sounded so familiar. Bucky reached out and wiped the tear away. “I… I don’t remember. I mean, I’ve lived a whole life not knowing you were until just a few days ago and now… all this?” 

He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles softly. “It’s almost dawn. You haven’t slept well. Get some rest, we’ll figure it out. We always did.” 

You couldn’t argue. You needed to not think for a while, so you just nodded and got up. He didn’t follow you as you made your way to the bedroom and threw yourself down on the bed. You closed your eyes and slipped into a dreamless sleep. 

The next day, you spent most of your morning in the room; unable to leave the bed. Each time you thought back on all that was revealed to you last night, your head hurt. Wanda was kind enough to come in and leave you your meals. She didn’t say a word, just polite smiles. Bucky came by as well, each hour or so to check up on you. You weren’t ready to talk yet. He understood. 

You spent the rest of the day looking out of the window, into the vast backyard. The weather was still gloomy, much like your mood. 

After dinner, Bucky came by again. With tea this time. You gladly accepted the cup, remembering how it helped you sleep better the other night. Bucky was about to walk out but you stopped him. 

“Stay. Please.” You said, your voice a little strained because you had cried earlier, unable to understand the wave of emotion which washed over you. He rushed to sit next to you, on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been having dreams.” you confessed. 

“What kind of dreams?” 

“About you. About us, together. About ballrooms I’ve never been in, about people I haven’t met. And this house, ever since I got here it feels like I’ve... “ you trailed off, unable to find the right words. Or maybe the words were too crazy for you to utter them out loud. 

He finished your sentence. “Like you’ve lived here before?” 

“Yes.” You nodded. 

He smiled. “It’s because you have. This is your home, our home. Those aren’t dreams, they’re your memories.” 

Another tear fell down your cheek. Well, that made sense now. That would explain why your ‘dreams’ were so detailed. 

Bucky stayed and talked to you until you felt sleepy. He kissed you on the forehead, whispering a ‘goodnight’ once you got under the covers and was about to walk out of the room but you stopped him, yet again. 

“There’s something else.” you said. 

He stopped right at the door and turned around to face you, “Yes?” 

“The day I got here, when you opened the door, I…” you reminded yourself that he deserves to know, “I felt this pressing need to tell you that I finally found you. I didn’t understand what that meant then.” 

For the first time in a long time, Bucky genuinely smiled. And it was breathtaking. His smile was gorgeous, contagious. “Goodnight, sweetheart. I’ll see you in the morning.” He left. 

You fell asleep rather quickly. And dreamt, again...

Kisses under a grand chandelier. Blue eyes, laughter and wine. Pure bliss. 

“We should get going, sweetheart. It’s late.” Bucky whispered, holding you close. “And I can’t share you any longer. I need you all to myself now.” He kissed along your jaw, making you giggle. 

Home. At last. Only just as you got down from the carriage, you realized something was wrong. Pain, pain everywhere. 

Bullets, stakes, sticks, stones - everything hurt. You heard someone screaming as you were being dragged away from Bucky. It was you. You begged for mercy, but you didn’t receive any. Then suddenly, a spot on your back burned. It hurt more than anything you’ve ever experienced. You realized you were being staked through the heart, and it was too late. You couldn’t fight back. 

The pain, although excruciating, was replaced by fear. Fear of having to leave Bucky behind. Bucky… where was he? 

Your vision got blurry, you fell to the ground. You tried to call out for him but no sound came out of your mouth. You were fading away. But then you saw a pair of dark eyes which slowly turned blue and teary. 

“Don’t leave me…” 

“I’ll find you, I promise.” All the years you spent with him flashed in front of your eyes. Your wedding, and the decades of pure happiness which followed. “I’ll find you…” 

You woke up gasping again, covered in goosebumps. You had a terrible headache as it all came to you at once; memories of a forgotten lifetime. You struggled to breathe; it felt like being hit by a violent wave and being pushed deeper beneath the surface. Your birthmark burned hot. And your lungs felt like they were on fire. 

You sat there in bed, breathing hard and fast as you remembered everything. You realized you had tears streaming down your face. It was all too much, but you kept searching for more. And the more you looked the more you found. You felt like you were about to pass out. 

1802, when you first met Bucky. Married in 1808. You died about 90 years after that. You remembered. You remembered it all now. Your cruel family, and his. The bloodshed of that night. And how you died at the doorstep of this mansion. This mansion… your home. You knew this place like the back of your hand. This is your home. 

You’re home. 

You called out, not too loud, knowing he would hear you still. “Bucky!” you held back sob. How did you survive all these years? Without him? 

“Bucky!” you called out again, crying out loud this time. You heard his footsteps running down the hall. And your heart raced. 

You had been so close to your home this whole time, so close to Bucky, in the same town. You just didn’t know.

[lubdubsworld]

Better Man.

              ~~~~We might still be in love, if you were a better man. ~~~~

Taehyung x OC 

Rating 18 +

Angst. 

Implied Infidelity in the past. 

Chapter 1 ~ Walk out the first time. 

"Are you okay?" My mother's soft voice came from behind me and i panicked, hurriedly swiping at the tears that were streaking down my face. Heart pounding, I grabbed a bunch of tissues from the dresser, patting my face down hurriedly , making sure to keep my back to her. 

"I'm fine, Mom." I said , voice surprisingly steady as I turned around to smile weakly at her. She stood near the doorway, a petite woman of fifty with greying hair and too many wrinkles. 

I thought she looked older than she was and i knew I had a part to play in that. Sighing, I tried not to cry more, moving to gently take my son out of her arms. 

He was four years old, fast asleep and smiling sweetly in his slumber. He had downy black hair, feather soft and warm brown eyes. He looked incredibly like his father, the resemblance stunning even though he was so young. I stared at him some more, laying him down on the bed and brushing the hair off his face. 

"Are you sure there is no mistake? Taehyung ssi wouldn't hurt us like this..." My mother said, sounding broken and I felt a pang of sympathy. But also annoyance. 

Us. 

Us....like she had an equal share in the hurt I was feeling.

 I was the one getting a  divorce but my mother made it sound like it was personal to her as well. Like somehow, the fact that she now had to meet her friends and tell them that her daughter was divorced could compare to the pain I was feeling. To the sheer anguish that was filling me.

To be fair though, my mother had loved Taehyung very much. Her favorite son-in-law . My sister's husband had been a mean drunkard who had brought a lot of misery to our family. Taehyung by contrast had been a loving, filial son in law. He had cared deeply for my parents, paid for my father's funeral ( even though the man itself was nothing more than a drunk , cheating fool who had abandoned us )  and he had been the most kind man . 

I swallowed. 

Maybe , you should have forgiven him. Maybe , you shouldn't have divorced him . So, he slept with another woman. Fine.  It was one night... just one night. you should have gotten over it! Was it worth it to spend all these countless nights alone? To break your mother's heart a thousand times over? 

 The funny thing was, i had forgiven him. Maybe right after I had found out. He had stood there, looking shell-shocked and horrified and his eyes had begged me for forgiveness and my heart had cracked , the way it always did whenever I saw him in distress. And when he had looked me in the eye and said, "  I’m sorry,  Jang mi..." I had forgiven him right then and there.

 But it was the forgetting that was hard. The fear that it would happen again. The fear that somehow, I was the reason he strayed. And that kind of fear can be debilitating. For the first three weeks, I'd tried to pretend it hadn't happened. I had tried hard to see him the way I had always seen him but it had been impossible. everytime I saw him, my heart had broken anew. It had been hard but I had to accept that things would never be the same. That I would forever look at him and remember what he’d done. That I would forever wonder if he would do it again. 

So we had done the wise thing. 

At first a break.

 A few days apart to get our head on straight.  Then I’d found a job and I had to move closer to the office to make the commute easy. And then suddenly, I wasn’t seeing him even during the weekends , to spend time as family for our son’s sake. And just like that , a whole year had passed and we  were separated. Only meeting to hand Hoshi over to each other. 

"I'm sorry mother." I said softly. I knew that she blamed me, a whole lot for the separation. 

People with children  didn't leave each other over infidelity in my country. You hit your husband, denied him from your bed maybe but you didn't break up a family over one night of bad decisions. You just didn't .

But for me, it was beyond the act. It was the broken trust, the shock of knowing that some other woman had given him something I couldn't, the fact that he had even wanted it from another woman had been enough for me to crumble on the inside.  

But, none of it mattered now. 

He wanted a divorce. Officially. Wanted to end it for real. 

It was jarring, how badly it shook me. I felt unaccountably lost and confused and disoriented. I couldn't imagine not being Taehyung’s wife , i realized with a stunning sense of self realization.

 Call me irrational, but apparently, I couldn't stop thinking of him as my husband , even after two years. Soon he wouldn't be my husband. 

He would be  my ex -husband. 

i hated that word. 

It had such a plethora of negative connotations to it. When you hear it , you just brace yourself for unpleasantness.

 Because it is unpleasant. A marriage ending, a family breaking, feelings hurt , hearts shattered,  angry words tossed...its all a very unpleasant experience for everyone involved. 

An ex husband was seldom a harbinger of happiness, more often a reminder of choices gone wrong, regrets and wasted time. and I didn’t want to associate Taehyung with a word like that.

Taehyung who was still the kindest, warmest human being I knew. The best father in the world. 

I felt like someone had sucked all the strength out of me.

I didn’t really want to think about the call I’d gotten from Taehyung last night. An appointment with a divorce lawyer.  It had been followed by an apology because apparently, someone in the law firm had let the info leak. And now it was all over the sleazy tabloids that fed on people’s misery. 

It was impossible to escape it too, Taehyung was famous. An idol. And actor. The country's sweetheart. And he was the epitome of perfection. The beautiful, talented actor with an impeccable record of well behavior. 

I knew that literally everyone on the planet thought he was a literal angel. 

 I remembered how much , by contrast, I had been hated when I'd married him.

I could just imagine how much more it would all be this time around. And i wondered if it bothered Taehyung too. Did he perhaps wish he’d never met me

? 

It had been sheer luck that we had met.... 

In fact, if Jimin's  car hadn't broken down right outside our home on that cold December night, I wouldn't have even met Taehyung. A great cosmic shift, somewhere some butterfly flapped its wing a certain way and suddenly, Jimin’s car ran over a thumbtack and his phone was dead so while he tried to fix the damage , Taehyung  just had to knock on our home and I had been the one to open it. 

Boom. That was it. Love at first sight. 

 I had been a high school kid and he had been barely nineteen. Fresh faced and cheerful , the struggling idol from a small company. He hadn't been surrounded by fans or chased by saesangs. He hadn't had security tailing him. No daesangs, BBMAs, or acting awards. No blockbuster movies to his credit , no chart-bursting songs either . 

And I had fallen in love with that version of him. 

The hardworking, talented young man who worked twice as hard as anyone around him. 

 That's right. You've loved him for fifteen years.  So it's understandable that you're upset. Now, maybe you can move on too. Go on a few of those blind dates that Jiyoung is always setting you up on. Go live your life instead of being a zombie. Get a hair cut. Dye your hair red. Do something to get your life in order. 

"I still find it hard to believe that he would want a divorce. Jangmi yah... did you tell him you forgave him? Tell him you wanted to try again..." My mother said again and the distress in her voice was equal parts heartbreaking and exasperating. 

"Mother, I don't want to try again . We aren't married anymore. It's over, whatever it was between us. " 

 Whatever it was. 

How cruel, to have all that love, all that affection  reduced to a phrase like that. 

What a pity. 

"But what about Hoshi? He needs his father..." My mother cried out and I willed myself not to snap. She means well, I thought miserably. 

"He has a father. Taehyung is an excellent father and you know that. Don’t start that again.” 

My mother sighed.

"I still feel that this wouldn’t happen if you tried a little bit. He’s a good boy. Such a good boy and you could never do anyone better. Why are you so full of pride, Jangmi... so prideful...you should be a little humble. Think of the kind of man he is...where would you find a man like that ? And moreover .... Taehyung loves you. i know he does." My mother said stubbornly. 

I sighed, feeling my fingers shake from the effort not to scream. I wasn’t strong enough to have this conversation with her. Not now. Possibly never. Taehyung did  love me. Had never made any effort to hide it. But sometimes, love wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t. 

And I wanted to yell at my mother she was at least partially to blame for me walking out on Taehyung. 

My father had left us for another woman , when I was twelve. I had seen the toll it had taken on my mother and I just knew that I would never let a man do that to me. My mother had later confided in me that it wasn’t the first time. He had done it before. A lot of times. And my mother had always forgiven him. Let him back into our lives. 

And one night, drunk on soju she had confided between hiccups, ‘ I wish I’d walked out the first time.” 

And that had stuck with me. 

Walk out the first time. 

If he cheats on you , walk out the first time. Don’t stick around waiting for him to do it to you again. Walk out the first time. 

 And so I had. 

“ Should I talk to him? Tell him you’ve changed your mind? “ My mother began and I felt my patience snap.

“No!! Could you just, for the love of God, stay out of this, ma? It’s over. Our marriage is over and it has been over for a long time. A piece of paper doesn’t really change that, does it? Its not my fault you can’t get over it but that’s a you problem. And you need to fix it yourself.  “ I shouted. 

My mother immediately recoiled, eyes shuttering down. 

“Of course. You know the best. Who cares how anyone else feels, right, Jang Mi? You always know best.” She said softly, and I exhaled, shaken. There it was. The guilt trip. It was never ending. 

Please... I just need to go now.” I moved to grab my bag, :” I need to go get ready for the meeting with the lawyers tomorrow. You can keep Hoshi with you tonight.  I’ll come pick him up after I’m done and then I’ll drop him off at his father’s place.” 

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

With Taehyung and I, our break up hadn’t been terrible. 

It hadn’t been terrible because our own penchant for being terrible had always been very minimal. We didn’t do swearing or fights or threats and it always annoyed our friends that we got along so well. That it was so easy for us to forgive and move on with each other . That we were the one couple who didn’t hold grudges or bring up past mistakes. 

Which is why, when we did break up, none of our friends had tried to change our minds over it. They had accepted it rather calmly, shocked at first because it was so out of the blue but not opposed to the idea itself . They just trusted us to know the right thing to do because we were easily the most mature , the most level headed couple in the entire group. We were usually the sounding boards , the voice of reason in whatever petty conflict our friends were involved in . 

So when it was us, needling a little advice, a little guidance, our friends had been woefully ill equipped to help. They had merely hummed and nodded and empathized. Maybe that was another reason I’d left. I hadn’t considered the alternative. No one had asked me to consider the alternative. 

Our friends had watched us drift apart watched us break up, but they hadn’t really asked us  why.  

Because if something had caused Kim Taehyung and Jang Mi to break up, man, that must’ve been a really huge issue. 

So the break up had been amicable. Gradual and slow but mostly amicable, eased by our mutual love for our son. We wanted him happy and he was happy when we were happy. So we put on a front, laughed and joked in front of him and let him have some semblance of normalcy in his life. 

It wasn’t easy. 

From him,  it had been nothing but a mess of   heated glances, touches laced with intent and eyes begging forgiveness . every gaze of his was a silent scream for a second chance that I was not at all ready to give. 

Because for me, the raw hurt and anger and frustration that bubbled up every time I saw him , it had nowhere to go. It stayed churning in my gut, made everything bitter and unpalatable and I wanted to hurt him for hurting me. How could I think of a second chance when the hurt from the first, was still so fresh, an open wound festering. 

Self esteem in tatters, I had hated him fiercely. 

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

The meeting was at his company, and I arrived at nine in the morning, with a few more minutes to spare.  I knew the place like the back of my hand, was here at least  once a week either to pick or drop Hoshi off and I knew that the conference room in the third floor was sound proof and cut off from the rest of the building for extra privacy. 

Which was a little too late because I’d found two tabloid newspapers waiting outside my apartment this morning. 

I opened the door carefully, surprised to see Taehyung sitting in one of the chairs, bent over a sheaf of paper on the table and next to him a leggy girl in a small skirt hovered, fingers resting lightly on his shoulder, bent at the optimum angle to show him her curves. 

I sighed, looking away.

It was way too early for this. 

“Mia!” Taehyung’s voice made me look up, and I watched as he stood up, pushing the chair away and moving to me . He was easily the most good looking man in the country. And he looked so good at thirty five that it was impossible to look away from him. 

He was dressed in a pale blue shirt and black slacks and it never amazed me, how good clothes fit him. 

I took in the broad shoulders, thick arms and the lean waist, the carefully styled hair and the breathtakingly beautiful face and sighed when he kept coming closer, hands held out. . 

Of course, the customary hug. 

i let him wrap his arms around me, my face buried in the comforting warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne filling my brain . He always smelled so good it made my heart hurt. I tried not to let myself get carried away. Tried to remind myself that this wasn’t anything more than a.....

A facade ? Or was it? Was his affection genuine? 

Was I just too cynical?

I shook my head, pulling away and smiling a little at the genuine venom in the leggy girl’s face. 

“Are you okay? Where’s Hoshi?” Taehyung brushed the hair off my face, eyes warm and I wondered if he’d forgotten we were here to get a divorce.

 Whenever we met, Taehyung acted like we were still together. 

No, that wasn’t it. 

He just didn’t act like we had broken up. He was affectionate and open and cooperative. It always left me in a sort of limbo, unable to navigate our relationship with clear boundaries. There were no line to stop myself from crossing, because he just didn’t draw them. 

“ Ms. Lee says we just have to go over the details like the alimony and the custody and the division of assets and then we can just proceed. Get it all finalized.  “ He said casually, when I moved away and sat on the chair opposite him. 

“Okay .” I said casually. 

He smiled and turned back to the girl next to him.

“I’ll join you after the meeting Lisa.” he gave her a nice wide smile and the girl practically bloomed under the attention before bowing curtly in my direction. I watched her walk away, slightly amused.

“Bit younger than your usual type.” I commented , glancing at him. He gave me a look.

“I’m not dating her.” He shrugged. 

“Does she know that?” I retorted.

 It was dumb. Uncalled for. I was being a bitch, really but the urge to evoke some kind of reaction from Taehyung was something I’d never really out grown. I liked getting under his skin.

Taehyung sighed and gave me a little smirk.

“Are you jealous, Mia mine?” He teased. 

It felt a little like someone had dug a nine inch dagger straight  into my heart. 

That stupid nickname. 

God I couldn’t bear it. 

Swallowing i looked away. 

“Sorry. “ he said quietly, a few seconds later. 

I nodded curtly. 

“Don’t do it again.” I said hoarsely. 

“Why not?” He whispered gently. 

I groaned. 

“Taehyung... “

“it’s just a name...why does it bother you so much?” He whispered. 

“The same reason you’re asking me for a divorce.” I said softly.

He blinked.

“Mia...”

“Because we both know its time to stop.” I said quietly. “ Stop dancing around each other , stop doing...whatever it is we’ve been doing these past two years and give our relationship a name. “ 

“I’m not very fond of labels.” He shrugged. I glared at him. 

“Well tough luck. Labels are good. Labels are great. They let you draw boundaries. “ I retorted. 

“You sound like you’ve had enough of me.”

“Well, haven’t you had enough of me?” I snapped.

“Not even close.” He leaned forward gently, eyes pinning me to the table with a gaze so strong he may as well have used his body. And it didn’t help that two years wasn’t enough time to forget how it would feel if he  had  used his body. How it would feel to be stretched out on that table, him on top of me, hands working my clothes open, lips kissing their way down my jaw. 

I could almost taste him, taste the minty freshness of his breath, feel his tongue in my mouth, the hardness of him inside me. My thighs clenched because I hadn’t gotten laid in two fucking years and even if i did, no one would ever compare to the man in front of me. 

“Mr. Kim? Mrs. Kim? “ 

The lawyer’s voice broke the spell and i straightened, swallowing. Ms. Lee had walked in , and I watched her close the conference door behind her before locking it gently. 

She was young, dressed in a business suit , a no nonsense bun and had small round framed glasses. She gave me a nice smile, shook hands with us both and placed her briefcase on the table before glancing between us. 

“Shall we begin?” 

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

Author’s Note : its gonna be a bumpy ride. 

[minniepetals]

Hi!! I have maybe a dumb question? But what do you think happened after the car accident in butterfly? I’m assuming the other guys found out and Freaked but I’d love to hear some headcanons about that if you have any from when your wrote it? 🥺❤️ it’s one of my favorite series (honestly everything you write I love) so I’d love to know more about that moment ❤️ hope you’re doing well love!

not a dumb question at all bub! if anyone's wondering what anon means, you can find the butterseries here and the chapter butterfly here! honestly it does sound intriguing doesn't it? i should've added a little bit of it in the main story but perhaps it'd go a little like this...

warning: spoiler for butterfly if you haven't read it yet

.

.

When Hoseok got the call about the situation from Taehyung, of course he was panicking but he knew that while the younger one was freaking out and could put himself in danger due to recklessness and the overwhelming of his emotions, he had to be the one to act as calm as possible.

When the call ended, he was quick to turn to his assistant who stood a few inches behind. "Cancel the meeting," he ordered and although last minute cancelations weren't the best action to take especially when there were only ten minutes left before the meeting would take place, one look at the hard expression on his boss's face which did his best to hide his true emotions, Hoseok's assistant couldn't talk back and simply nodded to take care of the matters at hand.

When he knew he could trust his assistant with the task to handle that for him, Hoseok quickly dialed for Namjoon who picked up one the fourth ring.

"Mr. Jung," his secretary answered for him instead and Hoseok inwardly cursed. "Mr. Kim is in the middle of a meeting with the Yoon corporations, would you like me to forward a message after it is over?"

"No, this is an emergency, forward it to him immediately," he responded instantly with a grave tone that let his secretary know that the situation at hand was far more important than any meeting the CEO of the company was holding.

After that was over, Hoseok turned to his assistant again. "Let the others know what happened," he said, knowing it'd be faster that way, and without waiting for a reply, the man rushed to leave the building.

Word was quick to spread to the rest of the men who were in the middle of their work. The second the news reached their ears, however, everything came to a standstill as their hearts escalated with fear and work was immediately set on hold.

Meanwhile Taehyung who had reached you first had carried you into his car so that he could drive you to the hospital. The ride was silent, almost deafening in a way that he didn't like.

While he knew he had to focus on driving, it wasn't easy to ignore you who sat in the passenger seat, eyes staring blindly at nothing before you as harrowing thoughts walked into your head.

You were quiet, so quiet, but the grip you held onto the blazer he had draped around your shoulder was knuckle white, trembling, until Taehyung couldn't take it anymore and pulled over to the side of the road.

"Y/N." His voice didn't reach you until you felt his touch, which at first caused you to instinctively flinch, before you quickly apologized for reacting that way. How small your voice was, so weak and frail, and Taehyung's heart shattered at the state you were in.

"Please don't apologize," he begged. "There's nothing for you to apologize for." He took ahold of your hands which wouldn't stop shaking no matter how much you tried, enveloping them in the palms of his large hands in order to give you warmth and comfort. "Can you look at me?" He asked, softly, sweetly, so how could you ever refuse when he was the only thing keeping you sane and was your saving grace?

The tears that escaped your eyes fell a little more when you met Taehyung's gaze who looked almost as broken as you were.

"You were scared, weren't you?" He held your face with gentle hands. "But you did so well, sweetheart. You're alive," he whispered. "You're hurt and we have to get you to the hospital but you're alive, and that's all that matters right now."

"I...I-I...-" Words caught up in your own emotions through the hiccups that followed, Taehyung waited patiently for you to speak. "Tae..." You cried, tears spilling further more as you leaned against the palm of his hand and squeezed his hold so tightly. "Tae, I-I'm so scared."

"I know, I know," he acknowledged with a nod before unbuckling the seatbelt which strapped you to the seat. "Come here." It took a few seconds but he eventually got you over to his side, sitting you securely in his lap so that he could hold you and protect you from all harm. "You're alright," Taehyung promised so softly as he allowed you to lean against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. "You're okay now. I'm right here, I'm right here."

He should have prioritized this before trying to rush you off but who could blame him when your health was just as important? You were hurt after all. Though he'd never forgive himself if he wasn't there to make sure you knew you were safe again when he was the only husband there for you at the moment.

It took some time to calm you down but if it was for you, Taehyung would wait for a hundred years staying in that position just to make sure you felt okay again.

After a long session of crying, you finally fell asleep due to the overwhelming emotions you had just gone through. He brought you back over onto the passenger seat with careful consideration of not wanting to hurt and wake you up before checking his phone for all the missed calls and missed messages that were left from the other boys.

"Taehyung? Where are you?" The second he decided to call the leader, panic was clearly heard on the other line of the phone. "I've arrived at the scene and the police said you were on your way to bring Y/N to the hospital so the others went on ahead while me and Yoongi are taking care of things here. But the others have already arrived at the hospital and you're not there yet. Did something happen? Please tell me you're alright."

"Sorry." Taehyung let out a sigh, calmly ready to explain the situation unlike the panicked Namjoon. "I couldn't just bring Y/N over with the state she was in so we took a moment to let her calm down and breathe again."

"How is she?" Concern filled his voice.

With one glance your way, the younger one pressed his lips before replying. "She's asleep now but I'm sure it won't be long until she wakes from a nightmare." He adjusted his blazer on you, acting as a blanket, and put the seatbelt on you again. "I'm gonna head over now, I'll let you know any news but by then you'll probably arrive at the hospital with Yoongi."

You did wake up again, but only after Taehyung had already taken you to the hospital and you were moved to get treated by the doctor. So when you woke up to find yourself in an unfamiliar room, you began to grow scared once again and even the doctor couldn't help you calm down.

"Please, get Taehyung," you pled at her with trembling hands that held onto her lab coat. "I-I want to see Taehyung."

Where was he? He told you that he wasn't going to leave you alone so where was he? Why wasn't he there when you woke up?

"Please. Taehyung, where is he? Where is my husband? Where—"

"Y/N."

Your head instantly perked up at the familiar call and tears were quick to fall when you saw not only Taehyung but the rest of your husbands walking in through the door.

Taehyung rushed to hold you in his arms being as he was the last person you were with and restlessly calling for him when you woke. You sighed shakily in relief at the familiar feeling of his arms around you but it wasn't enough to keep the tears away.

They hated seeing you in the state you were in, hearts breaking into tiny pieces at the sound of your cries and the sight of your trembling body as you held onto Taehyung so tightly as if afraid he was going to disappear before your eyes if you didn't hold onto him tight enough.

It took a while but eventually you remembered the rest and was quick to reach out to them as well, panic and fear filling your eyes as you sought for their presence just to make sure they were there, right there, and that they weren't leaving any time soon.

Your legs were too shaky to walk on your own when the hospital discharged you that night so Jungkook had to carry you to the car in order to head home.

You fell asleep right there in his hold before he even reached the vehicle, hand holding tightly onto the blazer of his suit even through your dreams.

"She looks so worn out," Seokjin worried when they arrived back in the drive through of their home, the door of Jungkook's car opened ajar with you still deep in your slumber.

"She was shaking so uncontrollably," Jimin remembered.

"Can't blame her. Our little one was so scared," Taehyung said as Yoongi kept a steady gaze on your figure which leaned against the passenger seat, your under eyes red with a flushed nose and flushed cheeks along with trails of dried tears to remind them of how hard you had cried.

Namjoon walked up towards the open door, leaning in to unbuckle the seatbelt around you. He took a moment to caress your face, pressing a kiss to your cheeks, before taking ahold of you to carry you in his arms.

They followed him in while Taehyung stood still for a moment, retracing his memories back when you had been happily talking to him on the phone before the incident occurred. Did he do good enough being the one to have been by your side through it all? Or could he have done better?

"Whatever you're thinking, stop it."

He looked up at Hoseok's voice who stood a few feet away, looking back at him while the rest of them had already gone into the house. The older man had his brows creased, eyes sincere with a grave intent lying behind them.

"You did well by her side, Taehyung, we're thankful you had been there for her." He walked on over to him, taking long strides his way and stopping to stand right before the younger man. With hands held at either side on Taehyung's face, Hoseok rested their foreheads together with closed eyes and whispering words.

"Losing Y/N would have been horrible," he said, "I don't want to ever imagine a life without her. And losing you too? You'd break us, Kim Taehyung. So thank you, thank you for keeping calm and thank you for being the one to have been by our wife's side."

Taehyung's face contoured into a grieving mess, his walls broken down as he's finally able to let his emotions pour out whereas when he had been with you, he knew he had to stay strong for your sake.

But right now it was just the two of them, just him and Hoseok, so he no longer had to worry about staying strong and simply let his walls down while the older one held him tightly in his arms, holding onto Taehyung as he cried at the thought of having almost lost you.

[hercleverboy]

persistence

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ when spencer finds out that the reader has a stalker, he is determined to not let history repeat itself. 

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ stalker-like activity, death threats, few swear words, descriptions of blood, puking, spencer being kinda emotionally manipulative

word count ↠   8.2k

“Normality is a paved road. It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow.”-- Vincent Van Gogh

Y/N stared down at the letter in her hands.  Her fingers trembled, tears blurring her vision as she reread the words over and over.  Written in an ominous red ink, a chicken-scratch-like writing filled the page. 

‘If I can’t have you, no one can.’

*

It had all started two months ago. 

First, it was the dark blue Sedan that she began noticing sat across the street from her apartment complex. Of course it easily could’ve belonged to one of the many people who lived in the complex, or perhaps even a friend of theirs. At first, it went unnoticed by her. It was only when she started taking note of the hours it was parked there that she began to get slightly concerned. 

8am to 8pm. Every single day. 

Like clockwork. 

She’d peak through her living room curtains at 8am, and watch the car pull into its usual spot. It wouldn’t move all day but as soon as it struck 8pm, it left again- only to return the next day. 

However, ever the sceptic, she didn’t want to blow the situation out of proportion. Her mind came up with countless possibilities. The owner was staying with a friend who lived close by (but then why would the car not be there overnight?), or perhaps it was an plain-clothed officer doing some form of undercover work? Honestly, there was nothing she hadn’t considered. So while the presence of the unexplainable car was a little unnerving, it wasn’t enough to make her paranoid. 

The paranoia began when sheets of paper began being posted through her letterbox. They always came between the times that the blue car was parked outside, and had only a few words on each one that was delivered. 

‘I’ve been watching you, you know.’ 

‘You’re so beautiful.’ 

‘That boyfriend of yours, does he hold you like I did?’

‘Does he touch you like I did?’

Whilst they weren’t exactly threats, they were enough to set her skin alight. She was constantly looking over her shoulder, jumpy and paranoid. 

Spencer noticed it, too. 

He’d seen the subtle change in his girlfriend’s body language, but didn’t want to push her on the matter. He had asked once, but she’d reassured him that she was fine. So he decided that he’d let her confide in him when she was ready, but that didn’t mean that this change in behaviour didn’t make his heart ache. 

He was a profiler, one of the best, he knew the behavioural tells that signalled fear. 

So what was she so afraid of?

Then the phone calls started. 

Y/N heard the buzz of her phone, assuming it was Spencer calling. He was out of state on a case, but he always called to check up on her, or to notify her he was almost home. Although they didn’t live together yet, Spencer spent most of his spare time at her apartment. (He’d joked once that it was because her place was bigger than his, but really it was because his work took him away from her so often that he wanted to spend any spare minute he could with her.)

Reaching for the device, she frowned as she saw ‘Unknown Number’ flash across the screen. 

“Hello?”

Silence.

“Hello?”

and then she heard it. 

Heavy, husky breathing on the other end of the line. 

The caller didn’t speak. 

Unease filled her as she pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up. She placed her phone down beside her, biting down on her bottom lip as she attempted to rationalise what’d just happened. 

Probably a butt dial, or maybe even a wrong number? 

She pushed it to the back of her mind, distracting herself so that she wouldn’t have to confirm what she already knew was true. 

The second call came two days later. 

Spencer had returned earlier that day from an exhausting but overall successful case. He hadn’t even stopped by his place after landing, instead opting to go straight to Y/N’s apartment, unable to contain his excitement of seeing her for the first time in a week. 

He let himself in with the key she’d given him for their one year anniversary, as he quietly made his way into the home. He called out her name, announcing his presence so she’d know he was home.

When she didn’t come to greet him in the hallway, or even call back to let him know she’d heard him he frowned. He slipped off his shoes before moving down the hallway, his eyes finally landing on her figure in the living room. She was stood by the large window that overlooked the street below them, her phone pressed to her ear. Spencer took in her body language, noting how her shoulders were tensed, and how the hand not holding her phone was gripping tightly onto the curtains as she peaked between them. 

The unknown caller hung up, and Y/N looked down at her phone in her hand, eyes welling with tears- still unaware of Spencer’s presence behind her.  

“Y/N?” He asked quietly, trying not to startle her but still managing to. 

She shrieked, turning around to face him, relief filling her features as she saw the familiar sight of her boyfriend. She forced a smile on her lips and pushed her worries away, wiping the tears from her cheeks quickly and hoping he hadn’t already seen them. “Spence! God, I’m sorry. I didn’t notice you were home.” She chuckled. 

His frown only deepened as he moved toward her. “Is everything okay? Who was that on the phone?” 

Y/N’s breath hitched as she quickly came up with an excuse. “Oh, It was no-one.” She waved it off, hoping she’d played it off well enough to ease his worry. 

Once he reached her he put his arms around her, enveloping her in a tight hug, his arms around her waist. She sighed, hugging him back with her arms around his neck. 

He nuzzled his face into her neck, placing a kiss there that was so soft and delicate that it almost moved her to tears. “You know you can tell me anything, right? If something’s bothering you or worrying you then you don’t have to keep it to yourself. I’m here.” He whispered. 

“I know.” She whispered back, squeezing him gently to comfort herself. “Thank you.” 

Truth is, she knew she could tell Spencer what was happening. She knew that he would immediately inform his team, and with their wonderful minds and Garcia’s infinite systems, they’d have their unsub within days. So what was stopping her?

or more specifically, who was stopping her?

The answer would be Maeve, the woman that Spencer once loved, who he lost so suddenly and so tragically. She’d heard what had happened, and had comforted Spencer when he cried as he told her of the only other woman he’d ever loved, apart from Y/N. He’d confided in her about Maeve around four months into their relationship, and Y/N was grateful that Spencer trusted her enough to tell her such a thing. Losing the person you loved like that? Y/N couldn’t fathom it. Her heart ached for Spencer, and the heartbreak he’d endured.

She didn’t want to worry him over what might be nothing. After what happened with Maeve, she didn’t want to make him suffer all that again, to make him think that it was all happening again. She never wanted to be the reason for his hurt, and she knew that telling him is exactly what it would do- make him anxious, worried. She knew her boyfriend like the back of her hand. He’d go into overdrive trying to protect her, to prevent what happened to Maeve from happening to her. But still, she refused to be the one that set those events into motion. She knew it was stupid, he boyfriend was in the FBI- who are exactly the type of people you’d go to if you had a stalker. 

She had tried to tell him a few times but when she opened her mouth to say the words, nothing would come out. 

The final straw was the letters. 

The first one was pushed through her letterbox on a Friday afternoon. Spencer was at work, thankfully only on a paperwork day instead of being called for a case. There was no name or address on the front of the letter. 

She felt sick. Immediately she knew it was from him. At least she presumed it was a ‘he’, from the possessive tone of voice in the notes. 

She ripped it open, taking out the letter. It was a single sheet of paper, both sides filled with that chicken scratch writing. Her eyes skimmed over the words written before her, tears blurring her vision. It was a love letter. Her stalker even gave her a nickname, ‘Dove’. 

‘My darling dove, you were made for me.’

‘My love for you knows no bounds.’

‘You’ve got such a beautiful laugh, I’ve heard it.’

‘And your skin, so perfect, so soft looking. I’d love to run my fingers along your-’

Y/N let the letter drop to the floor as she felt the bile rise in her throat, dashing to the bathroom and throwing up her stomach contents in the toilet. 

She felt sickened. She couldn’t bring herself to read what was left of the letter, instead screwing it up and throwing it away. The words she had read haunted her, made her feel disgusting. She spent hours in the shower that night, as though she was scrubbing his filthy words off of her skin. 

The letters continued, and with each one, the comments became more and more repulsive. Instead of declaring his undying love for her, her stalker began to get enraged. With each letter he became increasingly angrier, and it shook Y/N to her core. 

‘You whore, I could hear your moaning for that little boyfriend of yours from across the street’

‘When I get my hands on you, you’ll be begging for me to show you mercy’

‘I’ve protected you, watched over you! I’ve taken care of you for months now and this is how you repay me?’

‘Fucking dirty slut. I’ll kill you for that.’

‘What a shame it would be for that pretty flesh to be torn so carelessly, but it seems I’ll have to teach you a lesson, dove.’

‘You’ve made a mistake, choosing him over me.’

All of those led to one final letter. 

Written in red ink, eight simple words with a sinister underlying message. 

‘If I can’t have you, no one can.’

*

Dropping the paper as though it had burned her, she desperately tried to slow the breaths that were increasing rapidly, willing the air to fill her lungs. 

The realisation hit her like a freight train. 

She was in danger, real danger. Now that her life had been threatened, she knew she couldn’t hide it any longer. 

No matter the consequences, she had to come clean to Spencer. 

She scrambled around her apartment, grabbing any evidence she had in the form of letters/threats and made sure she had her phone so she could show them the phone calls from an unknown number. 

She glanced out the window to the street below. It was only midday, and she could see the familiar blue Sedan parked opposite her complex. She just had to get to her car safely, which should be a relatively easy task, given the numerous people who were walking down the bustling street- the perks of living on a main road. 

She made it to her car thankfully unscathed, locking the doors behind her. She didn’t dare look across the road at the car, afraid of what, or who she would see.  As she drove to the BAU, she anxiously tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She anticipated what Spencer’s reaction was going to be- he’d be angry, definitely. Y/N was torn, she wanted to stand by the decision she’d made two months prior to not involve her boyfriend with what was going on, but now she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made a poor choice. If she’d have told Spencer earlier, things would’ve been resolved. But by telling him the truth, she couldn’t help but ponder if she was putting him or his team in danger. 

Shaking her head clear the thoughts, she pulled into the car park that was next to the building. Taking a few deep breaths, she grabbed her bag and headed toward the buildings’ entrance. Her palms were sweaty and her throat was dry. What the hell was she going to say? ‘Hey Spence, I have a stalker who’s threatening to kill me that I neglected to tell you about, how’s your day going?’

After being granted access at the front desk, she was given a visitors badge and headed up to the sixth floor of the building. As she stood alone in the elevator, she tried to take a few breaths, feeling the familiar clawing at the back of her throat that indicated she was close to breaking down. She’d been holding it together for so long, been so fucking scared for so long. 

As soon as the doors opened she was greeted with the smiling face of one Penelope Garcia. 

When Spencer and her had begun dating he brought Y/N along to one of Rossi’s pasta nights and the whole team immediately took a liking to her, especially after seeing how happy she made Spencer. However Penelope in particular absolutely adored Y/N, and the two had even hung out together a few times. 

Garcia gasped with a grin as the doors opened. “My sweet Y/N! I got the notification that you’d checked in downstairs and thought I’d come greet you!” She moved toward her, hugging Y/N tightly. “Are you here to see our boy wonder? He’s around here somewhere-” She pulled back when she noticed the tenseness in Y/N’s shoulders. When Garcia met her teary eyes she gasped at the sight. “What’s wrong?” 

Y/N finally let the tears tremble down her cheeks, reaching into her bag to grab the handfuls of threating letters from the person who’d made her life hell for two long months. She handed them to Garcia, who after years of working that job knew from the first few words what they were dealing with. 

Y/N met her worried eyes. “It’s bad, Penny. Really bad.”

Garcia nodded, shocked but still placing a comforting arm on Y/N’s back. “Reid- He never mentioned-” 

Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t tell him. I didn’t want him to worry over nothing but- this is the first time he’s threatened my life and I’m scared, Pen. I’m really scared.” 

Garcia burst into action, coaxing Y/N with gentle words to head into the bullpen. As soon as they walked through the glass doors, all of the team member’s heads turned toward them. Spencer’s eyes immediately fell on his girlfriend’s tear stained cheeks and within seconds he was by her side. 

“Y/N, what’s going on? Are you okay?” 

She shook her head, moving forward and wrapping her arms around him. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, holding her to him as she cried into his chest, her shoulders shaking as she let out everything she’d buried so deep inside. 

He looked over at Garcia, bewildered. She simply walked up to Hotch’s office. The team could faintly hear Garcia presenting him with the papers Y/N had brought with her, explaining what she had told her when she arrived. 

Minutes later Hotch came out of his office, walking down into the bullpen to where the team all looked at one another, confusion on their features. 

“Y/N?” He asked as he approached her, and she pulled back from spencer to see him, wiping her tear stained cheeks. “You’re gonna need to tell us everything. You may be in immediate danger.”

Y/N nodded and Hotch headed off toward the round table room, Garcia scurrying in behind him. The rest of the team, with concerned glances to one another, followed into the room. This left Y/N and Spencer alone in the bullpen. 

She felt Spencer gripping her hand, squeezing gently. Worry laced in his tone, he moved to stand before her and locked onto her eyes. “Please tell me what’s going on.” 

Y/N nodded and cleared her throat, her voice quiet with shame as she spoke. “I have a stalker. He sends letters, calls just to breathe down the line and scare me. In his recent letter, he said he’s gonna kill me.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, his hand dropping from hers and he turning and stalked toward the board room. He had to see the evidence for himself. 

He reached the room and the groups gazes all shifted to him, but he could’ve cared less. He reached out for one of the sheets of paper, eyes quickly scanning over the threatening words as Y/N entered the room behind him. 

“When did this start, Y/N?” JJ asked, that caring, motherly tone present in her voice. 

“About two months ago.” 

“Did you notice anything odd about the neighbourhood beforehand? Cars that weren’t normally there, people stood on street corners at odd times of day?” Derek queried, his eyes scanning over some of the notes she’d received. 

She nodded. “There was a car I noticed, right at the start. I didn’t think much of it until I started taking note of the timings. It would sit there all day, but be gone overnight. Then it would return the next day.” 

“Do remember the colour, or make of car?” 

“Yeah, a dark blue Sedan. Then a few days later the phone calls started.”

“Garcia I need you to run through Y/N’s phone records, see if you can trace the number they were calling from.” Hotch ordered and Garcia quickly left the room, heading to her bat cave. 

“Here, listen to this.” JJ started, holding up one of the first letters. “I’m doing this because I love you, pretty dove. So very much. It’s okay, you’ll see.” She looked up to her team. “He’s planning something.” 

Hotch turned his attention to her. “Y/N’s safety is our primary concern. This unsub seems to have fixated on her, for whatever reason. Y/N, do you have any ex boyfriends or enemies we need to know about?” 

“I have five ex’s, but I don’t think any of them would be capable of this.” She reasoned, but there was a seed of doubt in the back of her mind. 

At her words, Spencer stood up, slamming the letters down on the table with an audible thud before leaving the room. Y/N stared after him hopelessly, Hotch clearing his throat before speaking again. 

“I’ll need a list of their names.” 

Derek piped up. “We also need to know locations of spots that you frequent, anywhere you may have met this guy. Coffee shops, restaurants, even the library. No detail is too small, okay?” 

Y/N nodded, turning back to stare out the door that Spencer had stormed out of moments before. “I’m just going to go check on him.” She murmured, earning an apologetic smile from JJ. 

* 

She found him outside the building, sat on one of the stone steps of the staircase that led up to the buildings entrance. He had his head in his hands, trying to calm down the thoughts that sped through his overworking mind. 

She sat beside him, draping his coat that she’d grabbed from his desk over his shoulders to combat the cold winter air. “You’ll catch a cold.” She muttered, offering a small smile as he looked over at her. Despite how he felt, he let the smallest of smiles find its way onto his lips at the comment. She had a stalker threatening her life and she was worried about him catching a cold?

They sat in silence for a little before Y/N broke it. “I’m so sorry, Spencer.” 

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.” He mumbled, looking out to the street, watching people walk by. When Y/N didn’t answer, he spoke again. “You could’ve told me, you know?”

“I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t.” She whispered sincerely. 

“Why didn’t you say something, Y/N? I would’ve dropped everything to make sure you were safe.” He promised, trying to make his voice sound strong, but failing as it cracked with his words. 

“I didn’t think it was important. He wasn’t threatening at the start, and I thought I could handle it.” Now the words were leaving her mouth, she knew she sounded stupid. 

“You didn’t think it was important?” Spencer repeated back to her, his breaths heavy as he failed to understand her reasoning. “Y/N you are the most important thing in the world to me. Okay? Please tell me you know that.” He turned his body toward her. 

“I know. I know and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. It’s just I know- after everything that happened before with Maeve-“ She paused for a moment. “I didn’t want to worry you over nothing.”

His breath hitched when she said Maeve’s name, and Y/N could almost see him replaying the moment he lost her in his mind. The curse of an eidetic memory. 

“I’m not going to let that happen to you- no, not you. Never you.” He sniffed, reaching over to take her hand in his. 

She nodded, tears filling her eyes once more. She cuddled into his side, her head dropping on his shoulder. She sniffled. “I’m scared, Spencer.” 

“It’s okay. He’s not coming anywhere near you, Y/N. I swear to you, he’s not going to hurt you. Not while I’m here.” He brought her hand up and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 

*

Over the next few days, the team spent hours analysing ever piece of evidence Y/N had received, and Garcia went through tons of security footage, trying to get a good look at whoever was in the blue Sedan. She’d ran the license plates, but they’d come back as being fake, so that had been a pretty dead end, and the phone number she’d traced had come from a payphone, so there was no lead there either. 

Spencer was evidently over-working himself, not taking breaks from work to eat or sleep. He reread the words a hundred times, desperately looking for what it was he must’ve missed. He was filled with this overwhelming need to protect her, to keep Y/N safe. To succeed where he’d failed previously. He couldn’t afford to make the same mistake he’d made with Maeve. He’d let his emotions cloud his judgement and it cost Maeve her life. He wouldn’t make that same mistake again. 

There wasn’t time for that, not when Y/N was in danger. 

Y/N spent most of her time alongside Spencer at the BAU, mostly because he insisted that she was somewhere he could keep an eye on her at all times. She only went home in the evenings so she could change and sleep in her own bed, but always with a police escort that Spencer had himself done a thorough background check on and knew could be trusted. 

Eventually, It had been an entire week. Spencer had only had a handful of sleep, only when the exhaustion became too much did he pass out and actually get a few hours of sleep before he was right back at it. Members of the team who attempted to gently voice their concern for him received a scowl in response, with Y/N even trying to get through to him, but he just shrugged her off. Ultimately, Hotch had to pull him aside to talk. 

Hotch walked into the room where Y/N sat reading silently in the corner while Spencer’s eyes ran over the words he’d already read a hundred times. 

“Reid, Can I speak to you?” 

Spencer’s head snapped up, pissed that he was being interrupted from the task before him. He grunted under his breath, standing up and walking out of the room. 

Hotch brought Spencer up to his office, closing the door behind them so there was some dilution to the raised voices that were definitely going to come from this conversation. He sighed, turning to face the younger man and crossing his arms. “The Bureau don’t want us using any more of our time on this case. The unsub has been inactive for a week, and we have other cases building up that take priority.” 

Spencer scoffed. “You want us to stop? You can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid not. The order came from above me, I have no power here. The best we can do for now is send Y/N home with police protection until this guy resurfaces.” 

“You wanna send her home? No way, Hotch! There’s some son of a bitch after her and you want her to be at home?” He was angrier than Hotch had seen him be in a long while. 

Hotch sighed. “Reid. It’s out of my hands. I recognise how hard this is for you, but we have no choice.”

“But I- I can’t protect her if she’s not with me! I can’t keep her safe.” His tone changed from angry to more of a begging. “Please, Hotch. There’s got to be something you can do.”

“I’m sorry.”

Spencer huffed, his anger returning. “Bullshit! You know as well as I do that she’s vulnerable as soon as she leaves here. Police presence or not, if something happens to her-” 

Hotch shot him a warning look, which made Spencer stop mid-sentence.

“You’re done with this case for now, understand? Until he resurfaces, we have other priorities.” Hotch spoke. Spencer scoffed, walking and brushing past his unit chief. “That’s an order, Reid.” He warned. 

Spencer ignored him, heading back to the room he’d left Y/N in, his mind refocused on getting back to his previous task-  despite Hotch’s orders. 

He stepped into the room, slamming the door closed behind him, earning a surprised squeak from Y/N, who still sat in the corner with her book in hand. He looked over at her, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “He wants you to go home, and we have to put the case on hold because we have others to work on. Can you believe that? How could he ask that of me?” He laughed humourlessly as Y/N shut her book, placing it next to her. 

She sighed, standing, knowing he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “What?” 

It was just the protective side of him coming out, and at first Y/N thought it was endearing, but he couldn’t neglect his own needs to favour hers any more. She wouldn’t let him. 

“Spencer, you gotta stop this. I know how hard you’re working, and I’m so grateful, but you’re killing yourself here.” Her voice was gentle, hoping she’d be able to appeal to him. 

“No! No Y/N I’m not stopping until we get this guy, until you’re safe.” He snapped. 

“You heard what Hotch said, you have other cases that need to take priority.” She moved toward him, still trying to reason with him. She was still scared to death, and she didn’t particularly want to leave Spencer’s side- after all he made her feel safe. But there were people who needed him and his team, and if she was no longer in imminent danger, his talents were needed elsewhere. It made her feel sick, but it’s the way it was. They were just going to have to wait for this guy to make his next move. 

“But Y/N, you are my priority. Don’t you get that?” He asked, moving back as she came toward him. The motion hurt her, so she stood still. 

“I do, I promise you I do, but there’s people out there who need that beautiful mind of yours more than I do right now.” 

He scoffed. “So you just expect me to give up?” 

“Of course not, but Hotch is right. What if this guy never makes any other moves? What if he just wanted to scare me? You can’t waste your time. It’s too valuable.” 

“And what if the second you walk out of those doors he gets you?” Spencer shouted, his arms coming out by his sides to exaggerate his point. 

“Then you’ll find me. If that happened, which is a worse-case scenario, I have faith that you and this team would find me and bring me home.” 

“And if I can’t? If I fail, again? If I have to watch you die like I watched-” His breath hitched, his voice catching. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “No, No. I will not lose you, do you understand? I will not stop looking for this son of a bitch, not ever. I’m not letting you go home, Y/N. I’m sorry, that’s final.” 

“Spencer, you can’t keep me here. You’d be disobeying Hotch’s direct orders-” 

He shook his head. “I’m not having this conversation with you, Y/N. I’ll talk to Hotch, change his mind. Just- stay here. Please.”  The last word was quiet and pleading, a stark contrast from the tone he was using before. He picked up the evidence files he was going through and walked away, feet stomping as his anger still radiated off of him. 

* 

Y/N had stood there for a minute, collecting herself before she took a shaky deep breath, bringing her hand up to wipe the tears that trickled down her cheeks. 

She walked out to the bullpen, ignoring how Spencer had asked her to stay. Her eyes met Derek’s who offered her an apologetic smile. 

“Hey.” He called out to her as she passed by. “Whatever the kid said, he didn’t mean it. He just wants to keep you safe.” 

She gave a sad smile. “I know. Um, is it alright if I just step out the front for some air? I’m feeling a little boxed in.” 

“Sure thing. I’ll keep you company, make sure you get back alright.” He stood up from his desk chair, grabbing his jacket and accompanying her downstairs. 

When they got there Y/N turned to him. “Is it alright if I have a moment alone? I’ll stay where you can see me, I just need a minute.” 

Derek was hesitant, but nodded. She pushed open the doors, out into the cold night. She remained stood by the front doors, where they bright lights from indoors seeped outside, lighting up the pavement. She took a few deep breaths, letting the cold air fill her lungs, hoping it’ll help alleviate the stinging pain in her heart. She looked up at the sky, willing herself to keep her tears at bay. She appreciated what Spencer was doing, and adored his instinct to protect her, keep her safe. She knew how stubborn he could be at times, but now she thought about it, maybe when she sided with Hotch earlier it made it seem like she didn’t have his back, which was certainly not the case. 

Derek watched as Y/N collected herself, seeing that she was about to turn and come back inside. Suddenly someone bumped into his side, his attention turning from Y/N to the person who collided with him. He looked over to see a young man he didn’t recognise. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. My apologies.” The man apologised before walking off. 

Derek furrowed his brow, before turning back to look outside. 

Y/N wasn’t there. 

He bolted forward toward the doors, flinging them open and looking left and right for any sight of her. 

She was long gone. And so was whoever took her. 

Hearing a crinkle beneath his feet, Derek looked down at the sound, noticing a scrap piece of newspaper on the floor where Y/N had been stood. 

He picked it up, unfolding the paper. On it, written in the familiar blood red chicken scratch was the same threatening message Y/N had received before. 

‘If I can’t have her, no one can.’ 

* 

Derek placed the paper down on the roundtable, that the team was now gathered around, shock and worry on their faces. 

Hotch closed his eyes with a sigh as he looked at the paper, guilt rushing over him. Just then Spencer came into the room, immediately picking up on the mood that had settled over the team. 

“What’s’‘-” His eyes landed on the message, the realisation spreading over his features. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked, a sort of denial in his voice. 

“He has her.” Derek confirmed, bowing his head down in shame that he hadn’t protected her like he was supposed to. 

“Morgan, What happened? You took her out to get some air and then what?” Emily asked, trying to establish where it’d gone wrong. 

“I took my eyes off of her for a minute, some guy bumped into me and it distracted me, and when I looked back she was gone.” 

Emily’s mouth opened as she connected the dots. “It must’ve been a distraction, one guy bumps into you so that you take your eyes off of her while the other guy grabs her.” 

“So what, we’re looking for a partner here as well?” JJ posed, looking up at her team. 

“It would seem so. He waited for his opportunity, and when it came he took it.” Rossi chimed in. 

“This is now an active investigation, we have a missing woman who’s already been gone for nearly an hour. We’ve got to work fast.” Hotch ordered, which sent the team out of their seats, each with a task assigned to them. However, Spencer still sat in one of the chairs, trembling fingers trailing over the words before him. The air in the room seemed thinner, his lungs working harder to fill themselves. 

“Reid? Reid.” Morgan tried, but all he got from Spencer was little incoherent mumbles. 

Finally, he looked up to meet Morgan’s eyes, the words he’d been whispering falling from his lips in a more audible whimper. “He’s gonna kill her.”  He choked on his words, the realisation crashing down on him. “I’m going to lose her too.” 

* 

Time was a precious thing. 

Spencer had never been more aware of how quickly the seconds passed than he was at that moment. 

He was on his knees, hunched over the toilet, hands gripping the sides in a vice-like grip, desperately trying to push down the nauseating feeling creeping its way up his throat. After the note that Morgan found, Spencer had rushed into the toilets, standing over the toilet bowl as he dry-heaved, holding himself back from being sick. He took heavy breaths, eyes screwing shut as he tried to think of anything other than the danger that Y/N was in. 

He tried so hard to ignore the familiarity of the situation. 

The thought set in motion a memory that he’d much rather forget, one that he pushed so far back in his mind so he could deny it had ever happened, that he’d ever allowed it to happen. 

Ultimately, it was the curse of his brilliant memory, having the ability to perfectly recall things that happened years before. 

As if he could ever forget that day, eidetic memory or not. 

“Diane, Diane, there’s still a way out of this.” 

“You never wanted me. Never! You lied!”

Diane has her arm around Maeve, gun pointed at her head. The bullet she’d shot into Spencer’s shoulder felt numb, the scorching pain felt irrelevant to the fear spiking his heart. 

“I didn’t. Diane, I offered you a deal and you can still take it. Me for her. Let me take her place.” His eyes lock on Maeve’s, so full of fear, and he tries to reassure that she’ll be fine- because he knows she will. How many times has he talked down an unsub waving a gun around? She would be okay, she had to be. 

“You would do that?” 

“Yes.” 

“You would kill yourself for her?” 

“Yes.” 

Of course he would. In a heartbeat. 

“Thomas Merton.” 

Maeve’s voice was small but sure. What scared Spencer the most was how certain she sounded, as though she’d accepted that this was her fate; her end. 

“Who’s Thomas Merton?”

“He knows.” 

She loved him. And he loved her. Oh how bittersweet. 

“Who’s Thomas Merton, who is he?” 

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us.” 

Its only a moment’s hesitation, a moment that he should’ve reached for a gun, a moment where he should’ve taken his shot. 

“No.” Diane scowled. 

Time is a precious thing.

and Maeve’s was up.

“Wait-” 

The shot still rung clear in Spencer’s ears, a sound he was sure he would hear for the rest of his days. His breaths were heaving again, his eyes flying open as he willed the image of Maeve’s body to leave his head. But when his eyes screwed shut again, it was someone else in her place. 

It wasn’t Maeve’s body on the floor anymore. Instead, in her place lay Y/N, blood gushing from the open wound at the side of her head, her lifeless body cold against the concrete floor. 

That’s the thought that made him sick, throwing up into the toilet at the thought of watching Y/N die the same way he watched Maeve. 

Taking gasping breaths, he sat back against the side of the cubicle, hands running down his flustered face, feeling the streaks of tears that trembled down his cheeks. 

He shook his head, as if that would erase the horrific thoughts swimming around. He reminded himself that Y/N was still alive, and they had no reason as of yet to believe that she wasn’t. It was that thought that made him pull himself to stand, raking his hands through his hair and trying to calm his quivering hands. 

Y/N was still out there, waiting for him to save her. 

He grit his teeth together as he walked out of the toilets. 

He wouldn’t hesitate this time. He was not going to lose her. 

*

He walked back into the roundtable room, ignoring the looks he received from the team. They had been bouncing theories off of one another, trying to use their profile to figure out who their unsub was, and where they would’ve taken Y/N. 

“Is it possible a woman is our unsub, or perhaps even the partner?” Emily posed, her eyes scanning over one of the letters. 

Derek shook his head. “I don’t think a woman would use language like this, it’s very derogatory, it exerts a power over Y/N.” 

The team fell quiet in thought, only interrupted when Garcia came scurrying in, her laptop in her hands. “You’ll never guess what I just found!”

Everyone looked up to her, Hotch speaking. “What is it, Garcia?” 

“I looked over the list of Y/N’s exes, and only one of them jumped out to me as a little suspicious. So I did some digging.” She tapped a few keys on her laptop before grabbing her remote and  broadcasting to the team what she’d found on the TV. “Daniel ‘Danny’ Stone, 29, dated Y/N three years ago. He was her last boyfriend before she met Reid.”

“Three years? You don’t think he’s still bitter about the relationship ending?” Emily asked, confused. 

“Three years is a long time. Why surface now?” JJ chimed. 

“Reid, did Y/N ever mention her previous relationship ending on a rough note?” Rossi asked, turning to face the younger boy. 

Spencer frowned. “She said the breakup was a little rocky, but nothing awful. The last time she spoke about him was a few months ago, said he got in some sort of accident?” He looked to Garcia for confirmation, and she nodded. 

“Indeed. Stone was involved in a road collision four months ago.” 

JJ hummed, looking through the medical reports on her iPad. “Says here he suffered brain damage, specifically to his pre-frontal cortex.” 

“Well that would explain why this stalker seemingly came from nowhere. People who suffer damage like this are impulsive, unable to make rational choices.” Derek posed. 

“So what’s the theory here? He wakes up after this accident, and because of his injury chooses to track down his ex? Three years after they break up?”

Morgan shook his head. “It isn’t a choice. Not anymore. He has to do it. He’s become fixated on her. He knows she’s with Reid, and like he said, If he can’t have her, the neither can Reid.”

“Okay, but why stalk her? What does he gain from that? Instead of just taking her and getting what he really wants?” Emily questioned. 

“This newfound impulsivity would make him a risk-taker. He’ll do things that the average person wouldn’t dream of trying. But it’s unlikely that Stone actually staked out Y/N’s home, or delivered the letters to her door. He wouldn’t have the self-control to span this out over months. He just pulled the strings.” 

“So that was his partner, then.” JJ deduced, earing nods from the team. “Then  what does the partner gain from this? Why help Stone?” 

“Maybe Stone manipulated them. Perhaps he has some form of information on them he’s using as blackmail?” 

“Did you get an address on Stone, Garcia?” Hotch asked, and Garcia nodded enthusiastically. 

“You know I did, It’s already been sent to your phones.” 

“Alright, let’s go.” 

The team all stood, heading for the doors. Spencer was quick to get up and follow, hope sparking in him now that they had an address. He was just about to leave the room when Hotch’s voice stopped him. 

“Reid, you know I can’t let you come with us.” His voice was firm, he knew there could be no room for error here. Not after what happened last time. 

“Like hell you can’t.” Reid snapped, turning around to face him. He’d regret his smart mouth later when Hotch undoubtedly told him off for it, but at that moment who couldn’t have cared less. 

“We will get her and bring her home, but you can’t be involved in this. It’s a conflict of interest, you know that.” 

“Oh, so it wasn’t a conflict of interest when you went after Foyet?” 

It was a cheap shot, one that Spencer really regretted the second he said it, but amends could be made later. 

Hotch’s face didn’t falter, despite the petty jab. “Yeah, and look where that got me.” 

Spencer’s defesnive stance dropped, his arms falling by his sides. “Hotch. You were there when when Maeve died. Do you remember it?” 

“Of course.” 

“Not like I do. I can see every second of it every time I close my eyes. I can’t go through that again. I almost didn’t make it out the other side, If it happened again I don’t know if I could cope-” He stopped, his voice catching in his throat. “Just- Please.”

Hotch grunted, giving in. “Fine, but you can’t allow your emotions to cloud your thinking. I know it will be difficult but I need your head to be in this.Y/N’s life depends on it.” 

Spencer nodded and they headed down toward the SUV’s. 

*

They pulled up to the address, lights blaring and sirens sounding. They all quickly jumped out and regrouped, strapping their kevlar vests to their chests as they moved. They were stood in front of an abandoned apartment complex, one that had ben uninhabited for years. 

 “Alright Morgan, Prentiss I want you to go around the back, find a way in through there, see if you can find this partner of his. JJ, Rossi and Reid you’re with me. ” Hotch ordered, as they all drew their guns and prepared to head in. 

As they stealthily walked through the building, they listened for any noise that indicated where the unsub was. Hotch, who was leading the group, pushed open a door to the staircase, and they were about to head up when they heard a bang coming from the floor below them. 

They headed down the stairs, seeing that they were entering the buildings basement. They rounded the corner, guns at the ready, and stepping into a small boiler room. 

In the centre of the room, Daniel stood. He held a struggling Y/N to his chest, his arm around her neck and gun placed at her temple. 

Spencer recalled how it the sight was all too familiar, how Diane had held Maeve the same way. 

Daniel’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “If you step any closer, she dies.” 

“Okay, okay. We’ll stay back, but I need you to put down the gun.” Hotch tried, shooting a look over his shoulder to Spencer, a look that told him to stay put. 

Daniel shook his head. “No. You’re going to ruin everything!”

“Ruin what?” JJ asked. 

“My chance do what’s right. Y/N doesn’t want me. But I love her, can’t she see that? I would do anything for her, and still she would choose him over me?” Daniel’s eyes moved to meet with Spencer’s, narrowing. 

“Daniel, we know what you went through. We know about your accident, how you’ve felt so out of control since, but if you come with us we can get you the help you need.” Rossi was next to attempt to convince him, but to no avail.

“No- No!” Daniel scowled, clenching his teeth as his gaze fixated on Spencer, who’s eyes were locked with Y/N’s, trying to silently reassure her that she was going to be okay. “She’s mine. I protected her, I’ve looked out for her. She’s finally going to understand.” He looked down at Y/N, his grip on her tightening, causing her to let out a frightened yelp. 

Spencer gulped, tearing his gaze from Y/N and onto the unsub, putting on a strong and unbothered facade. He wouldn’t let himself be clouded by his emotions, not this time. “You’re right. You kept her safe, and I’m very grateful that you protected her when I failed to.”

“Thats right. You failed her. I’m so much better for her.” He seethed through his teeth. “ And that’s why, if she won’t chose me, she’ll have to die with me.”

“You don’t want to do that, Daniel. Put down the gun. We’ll bring you in, and if you tell us all about this partner of yours, we’ll tell everyone that you co-operated.” JJ suggested, her gun still aimed up at him. 

“Why are you doing this?” Y/N gasped out, still struggling against his hold. 

“Because if I can’t have you, the neither can he. No, No.” He grinned, bringing the gun up to his his own head. From where it was angled, the bullet would pass through his own head, and lodge itself in Y/N’s too. “You’re mine, Y/N.” 

This time, Spencer didn’t hesitate. 

One single gunshot. 

Daniel collapsed to the floor, a bullet between his eyes. 

Y/N fell to the ground with him in a fit of sobs, scrambling to get away from the man who lay dead on the floor, the pool of blood growing around him.  

Spencer holstered his gun, immediately surging forward to wrap a trembling Y/N up in his arms. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, you’re safe.” He cooed, rubbing a hand on her back in a soothing manner. 

She sobbed into his chest as he held her, tears forming in his own eyes at the sound of her cries. But Spencer allowed himself a moment to breathe, looking over Y/N’s shoulder at the man he’d just shot without hesitation. 

And he’d wouldn’t be losing any sleep over it, either.  

He tightened his arms around her, thankful that she was safe. He brought her up to stand, his arms still tight around her. He looked toward his teammates, nodding gratefully at them as he walked Y/N out of the building. As he passed, he overheard JJ and Hotch’s conversation. 

“Emily and Morgan found the partner fleeing out the back. They say he’s agreed to talk.” 

With an internal sigh of relief, he held Y/N closer as they stepped out the doors of the building, guiding her toward the medical staff so she could be checked for injuries, despite how she told him she was fine. After it was concluded that she’d come out pretty unscathed, with only a few cuts and bruises, Spencer came and sat down next to her. She smiled weakly up at him, and he knew it would take a while for her usual bright smile to return, but she was alive- and right then that was all that mattered. 

He immediately took her hand in his, gripping it tightly. 

“Is it over?” She asked quietly, and he nodded. 

“Yeah, they got the partner, and he’s going to co-operate in return for a reduced sentence, but he’ll still be going away for a long time.”

She nodded, her head dropping onto his shoulder. “Thank you so much, Spencer. You saved me.” She whispered. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m sorry about the argument we had, I was being a jerk. I just wanted to protect you, but in the end you still ended up getting hurt.” He frowned, looking down at the gravel ground. 

“It’s okay, I understand. I’m sorry you had to relive all of this again, I can’t imagine how difficult that must’ve been for you.” She sighed, guilt overwhelming her. 

“Hey, no. You’re safe, that’s all that matters.” He promised and she nodded against him. 

Giving her hand a squeeze, he turned slightly to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. 

“Let’s go home, sweetheart.” 

[blahkugo]

Rouge

Satori Tendō x Reader (Haikyuu!!)

Word Count: 2.5k

TW: Mafia AU, Dark themes, Blood play (an excessive amount of blood mentions in general), Knife play, Asphyxiation, Angst (?), mentions of death (no main characters), Just two psychopaths going at it tbh.

A/N: I’m so excited to be writing for @the-smut-pile’s newest collab, hosted by @present-mel, @pleasantanathema, and @linestrider. Please make sure to check out the rest of the masterlist here!

Every night, the smell of bleach stings your nostrils and prayers left unsaid weigh heavy on your tongue. ‘It comes with the job,’ they had warned you, had urged a ‘pretty little thing like you,’ not to take a position you couldn’t stomach. You didn't listen, of course.

Because death isn’t a stranger in your life, nor an old acquaintance you catch up with once every few years. It’s a friend that phones daily, a lover you scurry into bed with—the chill down your spine when you walk home alone in eerie silence.

As a doctor you saw it everyday, with every patient that prayed for pity when the pain became all too much. Cries of the sick plagued your every waking moment; who were you to deny them release? Their suffering ended the moment you injected the drugs.

But you’ve never seen death like this before.

“Daydreaming again, angel?” Tendō swipes a disinfectant across the cold metal counter, rubbing until pools of pomegranate red match his long, messy hair. Despite the dreariness of the task, an impish smile remains plastered across his face, the glint in his eyes unscathed by the scene you’d both just witnessed.

“It’s still Doctor to you.” Try as you might, your voice comes out shaky, your heart pounding so hard you’re worried it may actually jump out. That feeling never quite leaves you.

He straightens his gloves and out comes his signature laugh—that high, maniacal, chuckle that stops just short of a song. You’d rip out your car radio if it meant getting rid of it.

“You haven’t been one for a long time.”

The truth makes you shudder, but he’s right, of course. Once your license had been stripped away and you were on the run, your career had officially ended. An ‘Angel of Mercy,’ all the news stations had called you, yapping on for days when you were that week’s most wanted woman.

You don’t have the right to be called a medical professional and yet, you stand your ground. If it means getting him to quit with the dreadful pet name, you’ll say just about anything.

“Your boss calls me Doctor.”

“Because my boss can’t remember your name.” He meets your eyes, lips quirking upward at the little huff that escapes you, your furrowed brows spilling bits of frustration you so desperately attempt to keep bottled. The air hangs heavy with the shrieks of anger you wish you could unleash, all the words you don’t dare say aloud in fear of looking weaker than he already believes you are.

Instead of challenging you further, Tendō simply turns away, chucking the wipes in a bin and humming a tune far too cheery for a man who just ended a life.

When night comes, you dream of the older man who begged to see his children one last time and the laugh that sounds like a song.

—

The next day isn’t any better, because it never is. Ushijima’s moles bring in three more bodies for questioning; bodies, because you’ve been instructed to refer to them as nothing but. And they’re young this time, heavily tattooed kids that can’t be much older than nineteen—children that look so much like the thralls of young men you’ve learned to call friends, you have to avert your eyes when they send panicked glances your way.

You wonder if Tendō ever makes these comparisons.

“I’ll only ask once,” the gruff, even voice echoes within the small space. “Who’s your supplier?” Your boss is cold and calculated. He never wavers, never says more than he needs to. He’s everything you’d thought the leader of a crime organization would be and more.

Tendō hovers next to him, gnarled fingers twitching eagerly at the knife splayed between them. It’s his weapon of choice, because—as he mentioned your first day on the job—he can ‘take his time with them’.

The captives crack immediately, pleading helplessly for their lives as they vow they know nothing. They probably don’t, appearing to be nothing more than lowly thugs in a long hierarchy of vile men. It doesn’t stop what comes next.

As expected, Ushijima remains silent except for the soft sigh that leaves him. Tendō sighs as well, though it seems more pleased—euphoric, even—than bored. He presses a slender finger into the tip of his knife, watches as a bit of blood runs down his lean arm, paints a strip of his tattoos red, and drips onto the metal table.

“Are they ours now?” Ours. The word brings bile to your throat. Ushijima makes his way to the door, bluntly calling over his shoulder,

“Do what you must.”

You push up your glasses, Tendō grins, and the screaming begins.

—

Blood-stained lab coats are a staple of your wardrobe. No matter how hard you scrub, fingers raw and aching, the faded pinks never seem to give. You quit months ago, resorted to throwing the worst ones away instead of putting yourself through that hell.

This coat’s going straight to the bin.

Through every horrid interrogation, you’ve forced yourself to watch. You’ve never looked away, never dared allow him to smell the fear off of you. You hand him the tools, write the information on the clipboard, assist with cleanup and disposal, and answer any questions he may have—like the good little medical doctor turned mafia member you should be.

And Tendō smiles the whole way through. Even as dagger meets flesh, as pained cries shatter your eardrums, as your vision is clouded with red, red, red—Tendō smiles, humming a tune that you hear long into the next evening.

But today, when the third young man had looked you dead in the eyes and sobbed, begging you to tell his mother he loves her, you couldn’t help yourself.

Of course, the towering redhead didn’t fail to detect the misstep.

“Bad day?” He questions innocently, resting his elbows on the now spotless titanium table. His muscles ripple as he leans, boasting the thousands of dollars worth of art across his arms. It bothers you that you notice it, even more that he probably catches you gawking. He sees everything, after all. Everything but the blood still splattered across his body.

“Won’t be the last, for us at least.” Brows raise, as though the thought hadn’t occurred to him. If at all possible, the wicked grin on his face widens.

“You’re exactly right.” And like clockwork, he laughs. Your hands grow cold, ice corroding your veins. He swipes his tongue over his lip, leaving a slick shine on his lips. When he rises and steps toward you, you stand your ground, though you so desperately long to run. “Why so serious?”

“They didn’t know anything,” you mumble under your breath, “and you tortured them anyways.” In all your months of working with him, this is the first you’ve complained—and you immediately wish you hadn’t.

Tendō moves even closer, as though entertained by your tiny outburst. Perhaps he’s been waiting for this moment, for you to finally break your silence. When he speaks, his tone is gentler than usual, but still holds every hint of mockery and nonchalance the bastard is known for,

“It’s our job, angel face.” Another step, another tiny breath you’re holding in, worried that the slightest of sighs might shatter your perfected image of faux indifference. He tilts his head to the side, peering down at you, like you’re- a child.

And the glass breaks.

“Enough.” You splay your hands in front of you, halting him in his tracks, just as he invades your space. “Enough of the patronizing looks, and the humming, and the stupid pet name that you know bothers me!” An accusatory finger is jabbed into his chest. “Don’t you feel guilt? Fear? Empathy? You murder people.”

Your chest burns, heaving with rage. Tendō’s half-smile still sits on his face, words of ridicule ready to roll off his tongue any second. But when you look into his eyes, there seems to be something more—an emotion you can’t quite place. Anger? Understanding?

His next sentence is whispered with such sobriety, you’re unsure who it is you’re speaking to anymore,

“People like us don’t deserve those feelings.”

“There is no us!” The claim may come out crazy, hysterical even— a woman covered in warm blood shrieking within a cold, sterile room. For once, you don’t care. “I’m not like you.”

Those words may be what set him off, hand wrapping around your chin and tilting it up so that you’re unable to look away. Fingers that incite panic and enact violence, fingers you’ve feared since your first day here, clutching you ever-so casually. “Exactly. You’re not like me.”

He doesn’t wait for your rebuttal, gripping harder at your face. “I’ve made my peace with who I am, but you,” his breath fans your cheeks, “you only pretend you don’t enjoy it.”

Then, Tendō’s kissing you. And to your utter surprise, you’re kissing him back. Heat rises within you, the hairs at your neck curling as your lips meet with a ferocity. His palms graze your lab coat—no doubt staining his skin with the blood it’s drenched in—before he’s peeling it off.

When you tug at his messy locks, the butcher smiles and sinks his teeth into your bottom lip. He pulls you closer, hurriedly stripping you of your remaining clothing, until you’re left in just your panties. Hands roam at your supple skin, kneading at your hips, meshing into you wherever he can. All the while, your lips do the same, bleeding into each other until you’re unsure of where you start and he ends.

“No.” The command is stern, perhaps the most you’ve ever been with him. His eyes narrow in disappointment, limbs rapidly untangling from your body. You shove him backwards until his knees hit the edge of the table, nudge him again so that he falls against it, and grab a clean scalpel off the side counter. “No, we do deserve to feel those things.” His grin returns in full force—and he laughs.

This time, you don’t hate it.

“Deep down,” he grunts as you hitch a leg over his thighs and climb onto him, “you know that I’m right.” The scalpel’s pointed tip grazes his black tee, cutting through the material meticulously. You run a palm up his broad chest before pressing a finger to his mouth, smearing nearly dried blood across his jaw in the process.

“You talk too much,” the hushed murmur tumbling from your lips doesn’t sound like you, is foreign and twisted, and too much like him to bode well for either of you. The muscles in his thighs tense beneath you, his hard chest rumbling in a silent glee.

Your fingers brush against his cheekbones and you gasp, losing all perception of who you are. It’s absurd, but the individual you knew before, the persona you so adamantly believed you could uphold, crumbles with a single, soft touch of his skin.

And it’s unfair, really, that someone so beautiful—covered in art, blessed with hair the color of sweet wine and a laugh that sounds like music—could be so utterly fucked up.

When you nick his cheek, observing the drip of blood that trickles down, you wonder if Tendō ever makes these comparisons. And when you lick at it, preening at the groan that leaves him, you wonder if you’re just as fucked up as he is.

All at once, you’re flipped beneath him, back crashing against the cool metal table. He climbs down and drags his pants off, yanks you towards him with one pull of your thighs, and presses against your core. A shiver runs down your spine at the heat, crazes you for something you didn’t think you needed.

“By the way,” Tendō speaks through kisses and nips at your neck, “you are just as fucked up.” Though you hadn’t realized you’d said that aloud, you’re unable to retaliate, only wrap your legs around his middle and moan at a particularly harsh bite. He soothes every spot of broken skin with his tongue, drifting downwards until his lips meet your cotton panties. “How cute.”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting thi– Ah,” your complaint is cut short when he moves them to the side and licks a long stripe up your slit. And he doesn’t stop, lapping and sucking at your soaked cunt, holding you down with one lean arm when you writhe in response to the pressure. “God, fuck.”

“Satori, but I’ll take God too,” he smirks against your mound. It’s then that he inserts a lithe finger, then two, stretching you out until you’re tugging at his long locks, goosebumps raised as the warmth of his mouth intertwines with the cold beneath your back.

You’re panting, unconcerned with time or it’s passing, only his fingers, his tongue circling your puffy bud, and your steady ascension to the edge. Just as your legs tense, breath caught mid-mewl of his name, he stops. You lean up on your elbows, rut against him, searching for more—friction, movement, anything—but he doesn’t let up.

“Fuck- why?” Your cry is loud, whiny even, but you don’t particularly care when euphoria’s been ripped away from you so suddenly.

“Tell me I’m right,” he teases, eyes peering straight through yours. You whine again, a mix between a pained groan and ‘are you fucking serious?’ before he flicks at your bud once more. “Say it.”

And you do. Because, as strongly as you've denied it, you’re every bit as perverse as he is, every bit as infatuated by the idea of power, of playing God—of holding a life between your fingertips and choosing death.

The second the words are out of your mouth, he thrusts deep into you. Your fingers scramble for purchase, nails dragging against the table, then his back, as skin slaps against skin.

There’s nothing gentle about Satori, all lean, hard muscle and jagged edges, but the pain is just as blissful as the pleasure. His fingertips rub at your clit, other hand moving to wrap around your throat and squeeze tightly.

“Satori, I- I need more,” you choke out, lightheaded. And he complies, shifting you to your side and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. Your cries melt into his, sweat soaking your skin, your hair, the table, as he pounds into you over and over again.

“That’s it baby– fuck, let go for me.” He presses the long-forgotten scalpel against your throat—and your vision goes white. Electricity sparks through your spine, your tongue lolls out, and you swear you feel tears run down your cheeks.

He doesn’t stop, working you through the orgasm as your legs bind his waist. A few more thrusts and he’s following you, holding your hips against him so tightly, he’ll probably leave deep purple bruises.

He finally stills, chest falling against yours and heaving, allowing you both to catch your breath. Flashing a set of pearly canines, his wild grin and the glint in his eyes reappear. For the first time since you’ve known him, Tendō is completely silent.

And then he laughs, lawless and untamed, the howl of a hyena that sounds like a song—and you laugh too.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it