#is it 4k long? yes it is. Guess how long the actual chapter is?

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

WIP Wednesday

Subconscious (Steve’s Story)

Summary: Steddie Canon compliant/fix-it fic paired with a corresponding story in Eddie’s POV, each chapter happens in tandem with the other. No matter what he does, no matter who he is with or what is happening in the aftermath of their failed battle with Vecna – Steve Harrington can’t stop thinking about Eddie Munson. He’s even begun to see him in his dreams…

(companion to this Eddie Snippet)

((Unbeta'd snippet from Chapter 02. I wasn't going to do another entire dream sequence, but this shows the difference between the stories in comparison to Eddie's version of the same dream. So this is super duper long. Not sorry. Steve's had a Day™ so he's already in need to a dream that's not a nightmare. Luckily for him this one is just jam-packed with nostalgia. The only parts of the snippet that might not make sense are 1. Joyce Byer's bought back her house, hence the Byer's family dinners. It's covered in the first chapter. 2. There's a conversation with Robin in Steve's kitchen that takes place and is referenced a few times in Steve's inner musings. 3. There's also references to the first dream with Eddie, which I have Eddie's version in a snippet that can be found [here], but I haven't posted Steve's version as a preview yet. See tags for CW/TW.))

—

When Steve dreams, he’s usually driving.

Nightmares always begin as something else. Running, hiding, breathing so harshly his throat feels scraped raw. He feels bites, he feels punches, sharp instruments about to cut into his skin or pull his fingernails out one by one, he feels his body thrown against a wall, or something cold and flesh-like wrapped tight around his neck until he thinks he’s going to pass out. Nightmares are always full of the fear induced fleeing for his life, for the lives of the ones he cares about.

But in this dream he isn’t driving. And he isn’t running. He’s walking.

He recognizes Hawkins like he would recognize the shape of his own hand, or the feel of walking around his house knowing where every turn is and which steps on the stairs creak. It’s instinctual, looking up to see a random suburban landscape and knowing for a fact it’s how the houses are laid out Northeast of Maple Street. He knows the trailer park is just behind him, he knows that if he keeps following this road it will take him around town, past the rows of cookie-cutter houses, and into the woods where the Byers house resides. Further on the outskirts of town. If he was in his car, he could be there in 20 minutes.

But he’s walking along the empty street. His car is nowhere in sight, and oddly that feels okay. He’s not worried about it. Up ahead of him, he can see the kids messing around on their bikes, and Steve suddenly knows without a shadow of a doubt that they are going to Mrs. Byer’s house. The one she shares with Hopper, now, and with all of them on any given day of the week. The kids are taking their sweet time, jumping the curb and circling back slowly – he’s almost pleasantly surprised, thinking they are waiting for him.

Then Max speeds past him on her skateboard, and Steve forgets how to breathe for a second.

Max.

She looks over her shoulder at him, a smile escaping her despite every effort to smother it, red hair pushed back by the early evening breeze and mocking him with a tongue stuck out. Then she’s with the boys, schooling their asses on her skateboard even though they could leave her in the dust with their six speeds. They wouldn’t, though, and if Steve hadn’t already been walking he probably would have stopped at the sight. Only the momentum of one foot in front of the other keeps him moving.

He’s missed seeing her with the kids. Seeing her keeping them in line and on their toes, her presence was grounding, and the boys greet her like she had never been missing at all. Like she hasn’t spent every day of the past three months in a hospital bed, with no change and eyes closed. Lost in a dreamless sleep. (He hopes.)

No, he wouldn’t think about that now. Not with the sight in front of him. This… this was how it should be. The sun setting on Hawkins, all of them rounding themselves up and then heading to the one place they are allowed to be themselves. All parts of them, good and bad, strong and damaged. No one left behind.

“Harrington!”

That makes him stop. Steve suddenly doesn’t know how to move his feet. He turns and looks back towards the trailer park, hands in his letterman jacket pockets, and watches Eddie Munson jog up to him. Smiling, whole, as suitable to the late summer evening as anything ever has a right to be. He fits, in his ripped denim and metal band T-shirt, blues and pinks and purples of the sky making him stand out starkly.

“Munson,” he greets, smiling back and it feels more fond than it should. As if they’ve been friends for years, and not days. As if he’s always around to join them on their walk to the Byer’s place. Always around for Family Dinners.

Like he should be.

Steve teases him about it, because even in the dream it feels like Eddie has never been to those pushed together second-hand dining room tables in the backyard. Never been there to help pass food around, or fight the kids for the best hamburger patties, or chuck potato chips across the table to make his point about whatever he and the kids would argue about. Nerd stuff. Dungeons and Dragons. Steve wouldn’t know what the hell they were talking about, but he’d give anything in the world to be able to listen in. “I see you’ve decided to join us.”

“Yeah, well, I figured it was time for me to make an appearance in the land of the living,” Eddie shrugs at him, a handsome smile spread wide across his face. But his words make Steve’s insides go ice cold.

Always joking, even about his own fucking death. “That’s not funny.”

But Eddie cackles with laughter, like the madman he is, who just missed meeting his maker. “It’s a little funny. I almost died, man, let me own it.”

And God, it could be so easy. This would be the easiest conversation to have. It sounds so much like him, and Eddie is so much more vivid here than he is in the nightmares. His words are so authentic Steve isn’t even sure how his brain came up with them. ((This is a dream.)) he reminds himself. It’s only a dream, and dreams have to make some kind of sense if they are to continue. Steve doesn’t want to let go of this dream, with Max and Eddie there – where they should be. So he accepts Eddie’s easy quip, and tries to make himself believe that this is how it could be. Eddie almost died. But he didn’t. Maybe Steve had still done CPR, and maybe this time Eddie’s chest had started to move on its own, maybe he’d been able to help both Eddie and Dustin limp out of the Upside Down. Maybe he’d gotten the other man to a hospital.

Maybe Eddie Munson could have lived.

Maybe, instead of being the government’s scapegoat, they could have created a bullshit cover story like they had when Will ‘came back from the dead’, and he’d still be living in that shitty trailer park with his Uncle and bitching about trying to pass finals with Robin this year. Maybe this year could have been his year to graduate.

Maybe, just maybe… it could have all been so different.

They walk forever, it feels like. But Steve could have lived inside that moment for the rest of his days. He and Eddie talk shit about everything and nothing, the kids are up ahead but never so far that he can’t see them. Their voices trailing back down the street, Max’s laughter louder than all the rest. He doesn’t even remember the last time she laughed in the past year. Eddie is smiling at him, teasing him, pulls out a joint and lights it for Steve to take the first hit. Leaning in close and not caring about personal space in the slightest. It’s so easy. It’s so comfortable. It’s the best day Steve has had in weeks.

“So where are we going, again?” Eddie asks after what feels like hours. Steve has never thought of someone as such a weirdo in an affectionate way until a couple years ago. Dustin, Robin – of course, but Eddie has it in Spades. He owns it to the point that Steve can’t help but lean into it. Can’t help but think that only Eddie would walk for blocks and blocks with him without even asking where he was off to. Just along for the ride. Even though this particular evening was something that Steve had been wanting Eddie to be a part of for a long, long time.

Family Dinner. Mrs. Byer’s house; sweet little Mrs. Byer’s who barely came up to his shoulder and had more strength in her pinkie finger than half this damn town. She welcomes in everyone her boys bring home with open arms and big sympathetic eyes and an air about her that makes Steve think she must have been cool as fuck in high school. And the way she bossed Hopper around was a sight to see. They argued like an old married couple, even though there is some on-going inside joke about an unfulfilled date at that Italian place downtown. (Mostly because it’s not even there anymore, lost to the Upside Down. Steve had taken a few girls there back when his parents were funding his weekend excursions, it wasn’t cheap. And was not re-opening any time soon. So instead the two made spaghetti all the time and talked about Enzos like it had been a person they both knew.)

Eddie flips out when Steve mentions Hopper will be there, scrambling to put out the blunt and spitting saliva on the sidewalk like they would be able to smell it on his breath instead of all over his clothes and long hair. “You could have warned me! Fucking Hopper.” He says it with a smile, and Steve notices he doesn’t say ‘Officer Hopper’ or even ‘Chief Hopper’. Like he knew him before all of this.

“He’s not a cop, anymore,” Steve laughs, pausing their walk to let his hands hover near Eddie’s shoulder. The dork is putting the blunt out on the bottom of his high-tops and is not coordinated in the slightest to do so.

“Yeah but he’s busted my ass far too many times for me to show up at his HOUSE reeking of the devil’s lettuce,” Eddie says so matter-of-factly, and it sounds so genuine that Steve busts up laughing. His voice echoes down the street with it, Eddie watching him do so with a grin that’s a little more soft around the edges. “No joking, he would drag my ass to the back of his cruiser and scare the hell out of me driving past the police station. But he always took me home to Wayne, never booked me.”

“I get the feeling Hop never really booked a lot of us for things he should have,” Steve tells him, still laughing under his breath like he has the giggles, the vibration of them caught up in his chest and spilling out his mouth every few words. “He used to break up my house parties when I threw them, but it was always like… right at 10:00 at night. He let us have our fun, but never let it get out of hand.”

“No shit! I always thought those parties were short,” Eddie grins, glancing out into the night where the kids were still circling their bikes just out of ear shot. “In case you were too busy doing keg stands by the pool back then, I was the dealer set up in your kitchen selling blunts and baggies off to any passerby with a couple bucks on them.”

“Kinda hard to see when you’re upside down and chugging beer like oxygen,” Steve points out, but says it like an apology. He’d never known where the weed came from at his parties. It would just appeared out of thin air and in his hands like magic. Eddie nods along, understanding and not surprised. He’s not exactly a forgettable person, but the few times they’ve talked he always seems to think that he blends into the background. That it’s expected that Steve wouldn’t remember him at his house parties. The pang of guilt Steve feels is short lived, because Eddie glances at him with that twist of a smirk that should not be as handsome as it is.

“I also ate all your Oreos.”

“That was you?” Steve exclaims.

“Every time,” Eddie grins that shit-eating grin of his, not looking the least bit sorry. “I thought you were keeping them stocked for me! Your reputation as a host preceded you.”

“I hid them on the top shelf, by the wine glasses!”

“And I was set up in that little nook right by that cabinet, it was like my name was on them!” Eddie gestures widely as he speaks, moving his hands constantly in grand gestures that make it really hard for Steve to look away. He’d have to ask Robin if she’s ever seen Eddie in drama, he seems like he’d be good at it.

He pictures where Robin had been sitting in his kitchen just that morning, and realizes that’s the nook that Eddie was talking about. So it’s really easy for Steve to imagine Eddie there, instead, sitting on the counter with his container of oreos and his old-school metal lunch box full of blunts, dealing when the party was in full-swing. Holding court and maybe even telling people to back off if they asked for a cookie, pushing them back with his feet and doing that thing where he pretends to be more scary than he is.

“You’re something else, Munson,” he chides with no bite whatsoever. Steve hasn’t stopped smiling the whole walk, something like affection swelling up warmly inside him, and it probably has nothing to do with the weed. But it’s an easy thing to blame it all on.

The evening shifts not long after that; the rows and rows of suburban houses melt into trees that tower and stretch off into the distance, and the winding road comes to an end at the Byer’s place. It is a little one-story house half buried in leaves from the surrounding forest, but Hopper and Joyce have been hard at work getting it back into shape after the property being deserted for so long. It is a welcome sight, far more welcome than his own home has ever been; and Steve is so lost in the little details of it that he doesn’t realize Eddie isn’t walking next to him anymore.

“So this is your dream, is it?”

An ice cold sensation creeps into his chest, forcing Steve to stop and turn to look at Eddie. A good 15 feet back, hands in his jacket pockets, looking at the house like it’s something he’s not allowed to have. But it’s his words that strike to the heart of Steve’s confusion. ((Your dream.)) That’s what he said. But how could he possibly know…

“This. This is what we fought for?” Eddie asks, nodding to the house, the crowded driveway full of cars and bikes and the sounds of too many teenagers in the backyard (in the best of ways, not like Steve used to hear at his own home not so long ago). “No one is dead. Everyone is here. Family dinners.” It’s as if he’s reading Steve’s mind, because yes, yes that is what he wants. This is everything that they shouldn’t have, and can't seem to keep, no matter how hard they try to hold on to it – and he just wishes they could. That they didn’t have to try so hard to be happy.

“Yeah, Munson. This is it.” This is everything he’s ever wanted.

It’s the kind of evening dreams are made of, apparently. The watercolor sky gives way to darkness in a manner that doesn’t make his heart thump faster in fear. Stars poking through the inky indigo above them. Eddie is wide-eyed and nervous, but he’s here and whole and God that’s all Steve wanted. That’s all he’s wanted for weeks. Some days it feels like it’s eating him alive.

“...are you sure I should come in? I mean.” He gestures to himself, as if there’s something wrong with him on principle. Ripped skinny jeans and studded black leather belts, long hair and tattoos. Steve doesn’t think he’s felt this personally offended on someone else’s behalf in a long time. What kind of nonsense was Eddie on about now? Walking all the way here and not coming inside?

“Of course you should come in.”

He might have spoken a little more harshly than he intended, because Eddie’s gaze is avoiding him again. Steve can almost physically see the guy recoil and retreat into his natural defense mechanism. Make it a joke, over-exaggeration and all. He croons at Steve like the girls in high school used to, twisting a strand of hair in front of his mouth and swaying a little on the spot, ridiculous and owning it – asking if Steve would really miss him if he wasn’t there for dinner.

As if Steve hasn’t missed his stupid face every single day.

Yes, yes he fucking misses him. Steve can feel the space in the world that Eddie used to occupy, as if it was torn away violently and is still trying to heal.

He doesn’t know why Eddie doesn’t seem to understand that.

((This is a dream.))

And Steve is tired of not being able to say the words that have been screaming inside his head for months.

“It’s not right,” he grits out, shaking his head and he’s not mad at Eddie. But he can’t look away from him and he’s not entirely sure he’s controlling the expression on his face very well. “If you’re not here – with us. With me.”

Eddie’s not moving and hasn’t blinked, but his chest is still moving and he’s breathing a little heavier. Way to go, Harrington. Elaborate, dumbass. (Why does his inner voice always sound like Robin?)

“You…” fuck it all, he can’t stand to not talk about it anymore. “You died, Eddie. You actually died down there.” He’s moving towards Eddie, and thanks whatever lucky stars are making themselves known above them that Eddie isn’t backing up as he does. “...I did CPR on you forever trying to bring you back.”

He has no idea how long it really was. Chest compressions, counting out loud with every push, tilting Eddie’s head back just the right angle so when he pressed his mouth to Eddie’s blood-stained lips he could breathe air into his lungs and not his stomach. He was certified, but he’d never done it on a living person before, and Steve knows he had been a panicked mess. Doing chest compressions so hard he had been scared he was going to break one of Eddie’s ribs. But he did the maneuvers again, and again, and again with Dustin sobbing next to him and the others screaming at them through the radio that the gate was closing. Steve had never felt so hopeless as he had in that moment – because Eddie never drew another breath, and his dark eyes stared at nothing, and Steve wanted to curl up on the ground and cry but he couldn’t because Dustin wasn’t able to walk out of there on his own. He and Dustin never talked about it, but the kid had been near hysterical about not wanting to leave Eddie there on the ground, and really the only reason they made it out at all was because Steve had picked Dustin up and carried him out kicking and screaming – and also because Dustin stopped fighting him when he saw that Steve was crying, too.

He hates thinking about that night. It always comes back to him in vivid technicolor, but right now it’s… it’s not so bad, because Eddie looks genuinely shocked by Steve’s admission.

“You did?” he murmurs. And Steve does his best to not be offended, again. Did Eddie really think that they would just leave him for dead without doing absolutely everything they could to try and get him out of there? Did he think they wouldn’t try to save him?

Steve’s heart hurt as it beat hard against his ribs.

“Yeah, I did.” The dream is pressing in on him, it’s threatening to break apart – he can almost feel himself waking up. So he smiles at Eddie, and pretends just a little harder. Plays along. “Thank God, right?”

Because right now Eddie is still in front of him, so if Steve has to play the part to keep him there then he will. Steve can try and believe that all that CPR training hadn’t been for nothing, that he hadn’t failed both Eddie and Dustin in that field. That everyone had made it home.

Eddie holds up his hand, mind whirling behind his big dark eyes, and the grandiose gestures soothe Steve’s very being.

“You, gave me mouth-to-mouth.”

Well, when he puts it like that. Steve shrugs, plays it off as nothing strange. He was certified a couple times over. Lifeguard, Captain of Hawkins High Swim Team two years running. He just hopes the heat flushing up his neck doesn’t show on his face. Eddie doesn’t seem to be paying much attention, anyway, his awe-struck expression melting into disbelief as he cards his ringed fingers through his hair.

“Jesus Christ, Steve Harrington gave me the kiss of life and I wasn’t even awake to appreciate it.” Steve rolls his eyes at Eddie’s statement, rolls them so hard he’s surprised he doesn’t pull something. Like the novelty of ‘King Steve Harrington’ still held any weight anywhere in this fucking town. “My poor little gay heart, high school me would be devastated.”

“You’re still in High School,” Steve tells him on reflex, Eddie flipping him the bird, and the give-and-take of it all is so instinctual that Steve doesn’t really let anything process in real time. Eddie’s commentary is always so flippant and quick that it’s easy to not take it seriously. But he did hear Eddie, he heard every word, and very suddenly Steve feels like he’s back on the Starcourt bathroom floor with Robin and his world has tilted on it’s axis a bit.

My little gay heart

Gay.

Wait. Did he know about Robin? Did he know Steve knew about Robin, is that why he said it?

((Why is he thinking about Robin right now?))

“Wait – what did you just say?” Steve manages to get the words out, although his brain feels like it’s breaking apart a little bit.

And Eddie looks like he’s in the same boat, because he freezes and stares so wide-eyed at him that Steve worries for a second that they just broke the damn dream. Like a traveling carnival ride. He can’t even open his mouth to say Eddie’s name, or backtrack and tell him it’s cool, because like a flip of a lightswitch suddenly Eddie is moving and talking and his whole demeanor is somehow different than before.

“And that’s enough of this round of ‘Eddie Munson Opens His Big Fat Mouth’,” he laments, crossing the distance between them in seconds. His hands are on Steve’s shoulders, he’s so close Steve can smell the cigarette smoke and lingering marijuana and something that must be Eddie’s aftershave or shampoo. Steve about trips over his feet as Eddie pushes him backward, turns him, and traps him against the side panels of the BMW. Realistically, Steve should have pushed him back when it happened – too many nights thinking about the Russians man-handling him or Billy Hargrove beating in his face have made him skittish and defensive, but this was Eddie and how in the fuck did his brain know not to shove him away? He's not even panicking, not really.

When Eddie pushes him up against his own car, Steve doesn’t really think about anything at all… except the other guy’s hands. On his shoulders, steering him, like he’s done it before –

((Because he has.))

”C’mon Harrington. Go back to sleep.” "Harrington’s got her, don’t ya Big Boy?” ”Now you’re talking nonsense. Time for bed, big guy.” ”Just – just go back to sleep, Harrington…”

”You’ll forget all about this in the morning.”

Steve’s mind focuses, then, a metaphorical pair of binoculars adjusting inch by inch until the vision becomes clear. But he doesn’t focus fast enough for Eddie, who smiles in his face (standing so close), winks at him, and taps his cheek twice. The cold bite of those rings on Steve’s skin nearly jostles him into action. His hands were braced against his car to stay upright, now held tight to Eddie’s vest. The one he’d leant him, all those months ago. The one in Steve’s room, right now, that he can’t get rid of.

“Until next time, Harrington.”

((Next time? When was the first time?))

Wait…

He remembers, now.

—

Steve opens his eyes.

—

tbc

—

Series Snippets:

- Dreamwalker (Eddie’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

- Subconscious (Steve’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 82)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (65) / Alexia Putellas x Character (38) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (19)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((4k))

Due to popular demand, I'm going to post a chapter bi-weekly, every Thursday and Sunday night until we hit Part 100!

JORDAN POV

“Ridley is back?!”

YFN nodded with her happy smile as she ate.

“Oh, come on chick, you have to give us more than that!”

Lucy staring like a lovesick puppy at YFN laughing did so did not go unnoticed by her. Or Leah it seemed, as she felt her leg gently moving under the table to touch her own.

“She came back yesterday. She was in the hospital yesterday evening with me getting my surgery to check in on me… and because she was getting work done too..”

Leah scoffed.

“Oh of course she did. Let me guess – she lifted a bus off of a group of school kids?”

“I know better than to ask by now,” she shrugged.

“Is she back for you or…?” Leah asked hesitantly. “Because Alexia left, didn’t she?”

YFN nodded. “Ale left yesterday afternoon but Ridley caught her on the plane. She’s with her right now, actually. Taking her away for some time together…”

“I’m surprised Alexia went, to be fair.”

“Riddles has a reason for everything she does. I’m sure Ale wouldn’t have accepted her back easily so I guarantee Riddles has been opening up to her at last.”

“She wasn’t gone for long,” Lucy noted aloud. “Thank god. I thought we’d never see her again.” She looked like she knew about the messages from Ridley – but they hadn’t quite been able to discuss the finer details of what was actually happening.

“Me too…” YFN replied with a shared expression. It made Jordan wonder how bad the leaving had been.

“Are they coming to the party on Friday?”

Lucy shot Jordan a look and her stomach dropped at the slip-up.

“The party?” YFN asked.

“The friends and family thing after the game,” Leah said, jumping in the save the day - sounding nonchalant about it all. “It’s a whole Lioness thing – it took a while to convince my folks to be fair..”

Jordan reached out under the table to give Leah’s thigh a thankful squeeze, though when she went to take her hand away, it was caught. She took a deep breath.

“Oh… I’m not sure. I don’t think they are?” Luckily – she didn’t seem to realise that the event on her birthday was in fact, for her birthday. Jordan hid a grin at how humble she was, and honestly, she was just so excited to share her birthday with her at the party. She’d not nearly spent enough time with her lately. “Friends and family? Christ, that’s a lot of people, no?”

“We won’t really get another chance until the season is over, little one.” Lucy explained. “Besides – we’ll need it after the game. We’re all so focussed on that at the moment. We need to win, and by as much as possible.”

Lucy seemed to know just how to shift her attention from thinking about the party to worrying out Lucy’s competitiveness. “You will win. And the game after that too, yes?”

She nodded. “We need to win both by a lot, and then we have a chance at the Olympics in Paris next year.”

Jordan realised then that it would most likely be Lucy’s last, and Leah’s if she started playing again soon.

There was no way that Lucy would let them lose, and that was written across her face.

“You’re going to smash it, Luce. You always do. 110%.”

She watched as Lucy softened and leant in so YFN could kiss her cheek.

“Are you sure you want to come?” Lucy murmured to her.

They all knew that she was embarrassed about the wheelchair, but she didn’t hesitate in her answer. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Plus, it’ll be easier to spot me, no?”

Lucy rolled her eyes.

Jordan loved to see them interact like this. To see them both so happy. She let herself entwine her fingers with Leah’s under the table and watched her shift and hide a smile.

“We’ll take you in,” Leah said and then gestured to the wheelchair. “To be fair – we’ll be more looked after than any celebrity going to watch with that.”

“Oh, so not quite out of the kindness of your heart then?” YFN accused with a chuckle. “Good as a battering ram too, I dare say.”

Lucy groaned. “So help me god, if you use my girl as a battering ram, I will murder you both.”

They all laughed.

“Speaking of murder…” Jordan started.

“I’m worried where this is going…”

“What’s the latest on Kristie?”

“Oh! Yes! I haven’t asked about that either – I’ve been so wrapped up in work and events and…” YFN looked down at her immobile body parts. “…this.”

Lucy wrinkled her nose and pushed her glasses back up. “I’ve been handling it. We’re going fully in. There’s a hearing next week to tie up the loose ends. Given all of the evidence, she can’t possibly contest it.” She kissed YFN’s shoulder. “I was going to talk to you about it after Friday night…”

There was a pause and a glance between them before YFN spoke.

“Thank you, love.” She said, smiling at her, seemably knowing why Lucy did the things that she did. Jordan wondered if she’d ever get to that point again with Leah as she turned to look at her. Her popular scowl wasn’t so much a scowl as Jordan held her hand. In fact, she looked almost at peace. Happier.

She turned – having been caught, and they shared a look that made the idea of going home together nerve-wracking in the best kind of way.

They spoke about the Lumos content released as they ate, all of the footballers present happy with the response so far, and eager to hear YFN’s upcoming plans for future content and/or releases. They finished their dinner and helped to tidy up – insisting when Lucy told them to leave it. She’d had a long day at training, and YFN wasn’t exactly in a position to help either.

Jordan gave her a cuddle with the promise to see them both tomorrow, while Leah collected a sleeping Blu from his spot cuddled next to Narla on the couch.

They drove home in silence with Leah’s hand held between her own in Jordan’s lap.

She watched, leant up against the door frame to the hall, as Leah gently put Blu to sleep in his bed.

They’d explored Birmingham. Driven three hours. Socialised with their friends. It was safe to say – their batteries were quite drained for anything except each other.

The entire day had been comfort and happiness. It felt like their relationship again – only better. Different. More appreciative and noticing. She watched Leah pull Blu’s little blanket up over him and kiss him goodnight like she used to, only this time with more emotion. You never love something more than when you thought you’d lost it.

It was the same for her as it was with Leah. She noticed more now. Like the strands of her blonde fringe falling across him as she leant down to kiss his head, and the wrinkles at the corner of her eyes as she leant back and smiled at him fast asleep.

Jordan stayed there as Leah pushed herself up, albeit wincing with her knee, and made her way over to her.

“Hi, you.” She murmured as she leant against the door frame with her. The height difference had her looking down as she brushed the back of her knuckles over Jordan’s cheek.

From her earlier private conversation with YFN, she found her confidence. “Lea?”

“Mmn?” She hummed, distracted by her skin under her hand.

Jordan took a breath. “I’m ready.”

ALEXIA POV

She wasn’t aware that she still had her phone to her ear until Ridley stepped forwards into her space and gently lowered her hand for her.

“You’re here,” she whispered.

“You invited me.”

At the sound of her voice, Chiquito sprinted outside and straight up her body, settling onto her shoulder and nuzzling at her face. It softened the footballer like nothing else.

Alexia was rarely caught by surprise, and yet Ridley seemed to be able to do that far too often. She managed to take away her attention from those warm, dark eyes with dancing gold flecks, to look her up and down. She was dressed in brown lace-less boots; tan, cuffed cargo parts; a white shirt and cream open button up. Her eyes moved up her neck to her lips which she’d been dreaming about just half an hour prior and then those playful, yet comforting eyes again.

“Your hand,” Alexia murmured, reaching out to rest her fingertips on it. “The cast is different.”

“You’re very observant. I had surgery again, yesterday in London.”

“Again?!” Alexia was surprised. Why would she need surgery again? “You didn’t get into another fight, did you?”

She watched her scar move as her lips twitched. “It was… an amalgamation of things. It’ll be fine.”

Alexia pocketed the phone she didn’t realise she was still holding and took her hand between her own, raising it between the two to inspect as she gently turned it over. “Just the same as before?” She asked as her thumb stroked over her two smaller fingers, taped together.

“More or less.” Alexia found her eyes again, knowing what that meant. It was worse. Before she could question it, Ridley spoke. “Are you going to invite me inside?”

“Yes… yes. Sorry. Come in.” She led the way inside, as Chiquito leapt from Ridley to Alexia as they entered her house.

She ushered the slightly taller woman to one of the high stools at the kitchen island and saw her looking around as if memorising the place.

“If I knew you were coming-”

“It’s perfect,” Ridley cut off. “Very… you.”

Was it? Alexia looked around herself. It wasn’t particularly large, but large enough to house all of her specific needs. A small pool out the back, two spare rooms, and a master ensuite separate from the other rooms for her own privacy. Alexia liked her space.

As Ridley stared around the room and reunited with Chiquito who was now on the stool opposite her, staring like he was in love, she finished cooking their breakfast, adding a little more into the pan for her unexpected guest. Due to the state of her hand, she chopped all of it up into bite size pieces before placing it down in front of her. Alexia had never cooked for Ridley before and found herself suddenly aware of that fact.

“Thank you,” she said in her perfect Spanish and looked down, her head tilting. “Are you under the impression that I’m a small child or a bird?”

She laughed. “I will not be responsible for you damaging your hand any more than it already is.”

Ridley caught her eye and gave her such a genuine smile that it melted her. “Thank you, Lex.”

Alexia merely nodded with a smile in return, though somewhat pleased with herself.

She made her way around the marble island to sit where Chiquito had vacated, leaping up onto the countertop. She was against the idea of animals on counters, though he was different. He wasn’t interested in their food, just to be around them and he sat perched there, his tail curled around his paws as his attention shifted from one to the other as they ate in a comfortable silence.

“Can I ask you something?” Alexia asked as she finished her plate.

“Yes, the food is delicious.” Ridley responded, licking the last bit of taste from her fork while maintaining eye contact.

Alexia rolled her eyes.

“Anything.”

“Where did you go?”

“Ah.” Ridley put her fork down on her plate and pushed it away. “Far enough away that I thought I’d stop thinking about you as much.”

Alexia softened at that, her heart skipping a beat. She loved when Ridley opened up and was honest with her feelings. It gave her the validation she needed. They were in this together.

“Is this the new Ridley now?” She asked, confidently. “Open and honest and her feelings?”

Ridley shared that eye contact with her – their favourite form of communication. She tilted her head slightly, as if choosing her words before she spoke.

“Is that what you’d like?”

“I’d like you to not answer my question with a question.”

The Australian smiled, her lips tilting upwards, moving that scar of hers again. Christ. Why was she so hyperaware of that?

“I believe it’s a good way to reassure you that I’m not going anywhere. So… yes.”

“Good, because it is what I’d like.”

They shared another smile as Ridley’s eyes hooded with whatever she had on her mind. It made Alexia want to shove away her pride and kiss her.

“What changed your mind? You were so against this from the beginning…” She asked before she realised she had. There was no more dancing around the subject for Alexia – she wanted all of the emotions. Anything to get out of this stale rut they had been in. God knows it had been so full of hurt.

Ridley took a deep breath, her movements slow and thought out. “I had a conversation with someone very important to me.”

Blau?

“He made me realise-”

Not Blau.

“-that what is happening between us is very special and rare, and that I owe it to a lot of important people in my life to see it through.”

That just opened up a whole other lot of questions for her. Who was he? Where did she go? Who were these important people in her life, and why had she never spoken about them until now?

She felt like Ridley could see the questions swimming around her eyes and knew from her expression that she was hesitant about sharing them. That didn’t bother her, though. Because the Australian had already come so far, and she was mindful about pushing her, like Blau had always suggested she not do.

So instead of asking – she merely stood up from her stool, took a small step forward and leant down to wrap her arms around her. Ridley’s surprise was obvious in her posture. The muscles of her shoulders and back tense under Alexia’s arms, though, she slowly softened into her.

“I’m just glad you’re back,” she said simply and honestly, letting herself enjoy the warmth, the smell and the feel of her.

Ridley’s arms came around her waist and hugged her back, both enjoying the feel of their hearts beating together, and the sides of their heads finding each other’s.

It was a while before Alexia pulled away, very aware that she was the first to break the hug, and she leant on her thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze with a smile.

Ridley flinched and Alexia retracted her hand quickly, unsure if she’d over-stepped.

“No,” Ridley stressed, catching her wrist. “I just…”

Alexia’s eye was caught by the sight of blood seeping through her tanned cargo pants. That explained it.

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine. It’s just a little blood.”

“That’s more than just a little bit. Let me see.”

“Alexia, it’s fine. It’s a few stitches, that’s all.”

“How did you…” Alexia frowned as she reached out to touch her thigh near the wound. She looked back up at her as she found a better question. “Where did you go, Lee?”

Ridley sighed, her jaw shifting. She opened her mouth to speak and her phone started buzzing in her pocket. She pulled it out and her face turned serious.

“I need to take this.”

And then she was up and walking out the sliding glass door of Alexia’s apartment. She watched her out there, talking while she strode back and forth, clearly about something serious. Was it work?

Alexia turned on the TV to give Ridley her privacy while she cleaned the dishes, though she couldn’t stop herself from looking out at her pacing near the pool.

Questions swam through her head until the cocktail party effect kicked in and her attention shot to the noise in her living room. She stared at it as she watched.

It was a murder just outside of Mogadishu.

‘Somalian Pirate King assassinated’ read across the bottom of the screen in bold letters.

Blurred video footage showed hundreds dead. Blood sprayed on walls of a building. A man declaring war into a camera. Politicians hiding their secrets. A rich Arabic looking man holding his son in front of him and taking full responsibility whilst thanking an unnamed group for their heroics.

The glass door wrenched open though she paid it no mind. “Alexia, turn it off.”

“…reporters told that of one the individuals were trapped in enemy territory and escaped just prior to sunrise in an aircr-…”

The TV went black.

Alexia’s eyes flickered back to Ridley who was now staring at her, waiting.

“Where did you go?” She asked again, their eyes piercing each other.

“Dubai...” Relief flooded her body at that. “…Kenya, and Somalia.”

Her eyes flicked to the TV and back to her. “That was you?”

“It’s a complicated story. Do you have a first aid kit?”

Alexia found her kit and brought it over to her. “I didn’t ask for the story. I asked if that was you.”

Ridley sighed and sat down, grudgingly. She pulled her pants down far enough to reveal the wound on her thigh. It was worse than Alexia could have imagined.

She pulled the bandage off to reveal a nasty looking stitched wound, surrounded by a bruise that took up most of her thigh. She couldn’t help but notice just how mechanically and efficiently Ridley cleaned up the blood and replaced the bandage. Like she’d done it a thousand times.

What wasn’t she saying? Her mind immediately went to the extreme. “Are… you’re a contract… killer?”

Ridley scoffed as she pulled her pants back up. “No, Lex. I have mentioned my training to you. This shouldn't be a surprise.”

“Military?”

She gave no response, which was enough of a yes to her.

“That-,” she pointed to the black TV screen. “-was the Australian military?”

She pursed her lips, and Alexia knew that it wasn’t because she didn’t want to respond. Rather - she wasn’t allowed to. But again, her lack of response answered the question.

“I didn’t realise you still did that…”

“Occasionally. And that’s the whole point.”

“They didn’t mention your names…” she said, trying to ease her frustration. Her ‘important friends’… were they military too? It made sense.

“That’s not the point, Lex. We don’t exist. This is a very dangerous issue.”

She was staring at the coffee table – and it was very clear that her mind was running a mile a minute.

Would Alexia be dragged into it all? How far would it go? The man yelling seemed very… vengeful.

Perhaps she should have been distraught. Scared away. Shocked to no end. But somewhere inside her – she already knew. She knew from the way she’d distanced herself and bore so much pain and burden. Alexia had seen that haunted shadow in her eyes before, and that could only come from something as morally objectionable as what she had seen and done.

But she knew her. Ridley wasn’t a killer, she was a protector. And although the images had been confronting, she knew it would have been justified. She’d just needed to give her time to open up this part of her life to her.

Alexia sat next to her and reached out to touch her hand with her fingertips. Ridley’s attention broke and she looked at her, a little surprised.

“Why are you not disgusted? Telling me to fuck off and never come back? You saw-” she ended her sentence abruptly.

“I know you,” she whispered, stroking the back of her hand. “You’re a good person.”

She felt like Ridley was falling into her eyes as the Australian trembled some emotions out in a deep exhale.

“Was that what your phone call was about?” Alexia murmured, enjoying that impressed look Ridley flashed.

“It was. I need to leave for a while.”

Her heart stopped. “Again?”

“Not for long. We think it’s best to avoid my usual spots for now while we… find… him.”

The man from the TV. Was he after her?

“Would you like to come with me?”

How could she ever say no to that face?

“I need to be around the team for support. I’m the Captain.”

“And the Spanish team don’t deserve you. The girls do, but management doesn’t. And I guarantee that the team wants you to take all of the time you need to rest, relax and rehab. There are other Captains for a reason.”

Was she running away from her responsibilities?

Ridley reached out and brushed her fingertips across her cheek. “You’ve given enough, la Reina. Let Alexia rest and come back stronger than ever.”

A shiver ran up her spine and she felt her pupils dilate. Honestly, she didn’t need any reason to run away with Ridley. She never had. She just needed to tell her pride to step away and realise that she would make the best decisions for her heart.

“When?”

“Hm. Well I was originally coming over to ask you to come somewhere with me tonight.. but I can call and extend our stay.”

Yes. Yes. “Where..?”

“Oh, just a little bit of a journey. Not too far. I’ll keep you entertained; I promise.”

Alexia smiled almost shyly as she leant into her fingertips. She’d never had anyone plan a holiday for her before.

Would she go? Could she go?

“Is that a yes? Use your words, la Reina.”

She didn’t give her the satisfaction of responding immediately. In fact, her pride crept back up as if remembering the hurt of the last few days. The uncertainty prior to that.

“I’m not sure,” she murmured as she moved away from her hand and took the first aid kit back to its home. She turned and almost bumped into Ridley; those dark eyes intense. She softened as she reached out and gently moved a piece of her blonde hair from her face, her fingertips gliding over her skin so softly that she could barely feel them if not for the tremble up her back.

“You’re not sure about me.” A question within a statement.

“I need to know you’re not going anywhere. And for that I need… time.”

“We don’t have time,” she replied softly, thinking hard. “I need to leave Spain tonight. Can I give you something other than time, Lex? The promise of a date. The planning of a holiday together. I could leave something here so you know I’ll always come back for it…”

“A date can be changed. A holiday can be missed. And you don’t care about possessions. Unless you have an alternative.”

“I care about you.”

“Are you calling me a possession?”

Ridley smirked. “Nobody could ever possess you, Alexia. You are not a possession. A prize, certainly.  Greater than any other. Lucky for anyone to be close enough to see, touch or hear you. Just to be in your vicinity…” She stopped herself as Alexia felt herself drowning in the beat of her own heart. “But no, not a possession.”

A pause as she took in those honest, loving words. Is that really how special she saw her?

“You won’t leave?”

“I won’t.”

“You’re here to stay?”

“For good.”

“You promise? No matter what happens?” She whispered, as if worried to scare this perfect scenario away.

“I promise. No matter what happens.”

There was nothing but pure honesty in those eyes she had to lean back to look into. “You’re telling the truth.”

“Mmn. I will always tell you the truth.”

“Oh really?” Alexia tilted her head. “Then tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

“I’m thinking that I have an alternative to time.”

And then before Alexia could respond, react or even breathe, Ridley kissed her.

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC Part 18 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Ah yes my favourite gif of all time finally has come into play, how exciting! We're in France Baby! It's a change of pace and scenery how fun! I feel we are nearing the end and then remember how much I have actually written and then I'm like oh nope we still got a bit bahaha. I'm doing a short chapter cause I was writing it and it was like a good 4k words so I thought it best to just split it into two, I know some people prefer shorter chapters.

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @next-autopsy, @panzershrike-pretz, @xxluckystrike, @bucky32557038ww2 (if you want to be added let me know🥰)

The cold wind whipped at my face making me hunch further down into my jacket. We had finally arrived in Haguenau after the long journey, everyone seemed to be restless. Keen to be indoors and out of the biting elements. Don stood in the back of the truck, his mood appearing low. I wanted to ask him what seemed to be troubling him but there was no privacy on the back of the vehicle. His smiles weren’t as bright, not quite reaching his eyes. I chewed my lip nervously watching the man. They had made him Staff Sergeant, but he didn’t seem pleased. 

“Hey guys.” A cheery voice called from behind me. I turned to look at the man who spoke. I didn’t recognise him. But he surely hadn’t been with us before. He looked healthy, clean, and happy. Compared to the sorry sacks who rode on the back of the truck, myself included. Was he a replacement?

“Some Lieutenant told me to report to 2nd.” The man informed us. I glanced across the truck at Lieb who shrugged. I rolled my eyes, why I looked to him for information I have no idea, he’s no help. I leant back resting on the seat between Grant and Jackson.  

“Your name’s Jackson right?” The soldier asked the young man beside me. God he was so young, he assured me he was 19 but I don’t believe him, he looks like a kid.    

“That’s right.” Jackson replied. 

“Who’s leading the platoon?” He asked, Jackson’s eyes flicked to Don who was still standing. 

“Sergeant Malarkey is.” He tells the soldier. 

“What no officers?” I tilt my head while looking at the man while he talks, his face seems so familiar. 

“I guess you didn’t hear.” Lieb said. 

“No, what's that?” He turned his attention onto Joe. 

“They’re making Malarkey a Lieutenant. He’s on the fast track now.” He says while fiddling with his lighter. A tell that he was lying, the little shit. No one said anything about his blatant lie.  

“Really? That’s great.” It’s bugging me, I swear I know this dude. He probably thinks I’m a weirdo as he glances at me staring at him. 

“Jackson, help me up will you?” He swings his bag onto the back of the truck, pulling himself up to sit next to Jackson. I move from my spot, not having enough room on the bench anymore without me basically sitting in Grant’s lap. I sit in between Babe and Lieb. Continuing to stare at the private. This is going to drive me insane, who is this guy?

 The truck jolts forward, almost sending him flying out again. I hide my laughter behind my hand. 

“So, uh, you come from the hospital?” Jackson asks him.

“Must’ve liked that hospital, cause’ we left Holland four months ago.” I nudge Lieb, silently scolding him for being mean.  

“Who is this guy?” I whispered to Babe.

“Webster, I think.” My mouth flew open, that’s where I knew him from, I think I met him on my first night. Babe reaches out, shutting my mouth, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.”

“Well I wasn’t there the whole time. There was rehabilitation, then the replacement depot.” Webster explained. 

“Well, I’m sure you tried to bust out and help us in Bastogne, Web.” Lieb was pissed off. Lieb would’ve come back and helped, like a lot of the other men did. But they can’t all be like them. Webster got off the line and had a holiday, can’t blame the man for not wanting to come back in a hurry. This was war for god sake, no one wishes to be here. Well I hope not. I mean I do but I have my reasons ok!

“I don’t know how I would’ve done that.” Webster defended himself. I looked at Babe, he seemed to notice the tension, I made a face showing my discomfort. Hiding my look behind my hand. He gave me the same look back. I chuckled and bumped him with my shoulder trying to ease the cringe we both felt in our chests. Like going over to a friends house and having to sit there and watch them be told off. So awkward. 

“That’s funny cause Popeye found a way. So did Alley, right, back in Holland? And Guarnere and –” Lieb turned to Babe and I, we both nodded silently, not wanting to be dragged into the passive aggressive conversation. Lieb was the king of passive aggressiveness, let me tell you. Don’t piss off that guy. He will subtly degrade you and wear you down.   

“Yeah, where is Guarnere? He still your platoon Sergeant?“ Webster asked. I could feel both Lieb and Babe stiffen next to me. I stilled too. It was hard being dragged back to that place of memories. So we didn’t mention it, and kept moving forward. So for Web to come in asking where people were, hit a nerve. It was an unspoken rule not to really speak of those who we had lost. It just made it so much harder, we didn’t have time to process or grieve really. It was for later, after this was all done and we were safe then we could process everything that had happened. 

“No. He got hit.” Jackson said with a huff. Webster was not picking up on the social cues being hurled at him. How did he not see or feel the tension as soon as he mentioned Bill’s name, it was so thick you could cut it with a knife. 

The truck stopped moving as we stood. Lieb held out his hand for me to grab to help me jump down. I took his hand, hopping down and landing beside him, “Thank you.” I said giving him a smile, but I could tell Webster had put him in a sour mood. I waited for Babe to hop down as well. He stood up in the truck, “Yeah, Bill got hit. Blew his whole leg off.” Babe said to Webster. Great now he’s made both of them mad. Babe jumped down, walking in stride with me. We walked alongside the trucks that had parked.

“Spread out. Hold along this line till I figure out where we’re going.” Don said, striding forward from behind us. Making his way over to where Captain Speirs was talking to another officer. I hung back as the men kept walking. Waiting by the trucks for instructions, no good me holding the line with no weapon. 

“Sarge.” Web called from behind me, I turned to look at the man as he walked. He brushed past me, his rifle still in its bag clocking me right in the head. I stumbled backwards, tripping over rubble on the floor. I landed on the ground with a hard thud. Ow! Fucking dick! I rubbed my head, grimacing in pain. He didn’t even realise he had done it, continuing to walk towards Malarkey. I got to my feet, brushing the dirt from my hands. I glared at the man, great now he’s pissed me off too. The sounds of shells being fired whistled through the air. I ducked my head down barely trying to cover myself. I watched with pure shock as Webster dove onto the ground face planting into the snow. I covered my mouth trying to muffle the laughter escaping my lips. Malarkey turned around to see his soldier lying in the snow. I giggled furiously behind the men. 

“What’s the matter there, Webster? Nervous in the service?” Don asked the man. I almost fell to the floor again in a fit of hysterics, wiping the tears from my eyes. The scene of Webster flying through the air replaying in my head. Well I’m not mad at him anymore. 

Don finished talking to Webster, sending him off to speak with Captain Speirs. “Em, you’re with me, let’s go.” Don called to me as he passed. I hurried after him, trailing behind a little so that he could speak to others if he needed. 

I split from the group needing to find Lip, I saw him slink away into one of the houses they were setting up CP in. I hurried in watching Lip take a seat on one of the couches. 

“Lip, how are you feeling?” I asked the man coming to kneel beside the couch he rested on. 

“Great.” He smiled. I placed my hand on his forehead, he was running a fever. His skin was clammy and hot. His complexion was pallor in colour, and even from here I could hear the evident wheeze in his chest. He coughed into a handkerchief, producing a greenish yellow phlegm. George laid a blanket over the man as I assessed him. I pulled the stethoscope from my bag, Lip leaned forward knowing the drill. I untucked his top from the back, sliding my hand under his shirt to press the diaphragm of the stethoscope to his back. 

He winced, “Sorry cold hands.” I apologised from my freezing fingers that touched his warm skin. 

“Deep breath in.” He inhaled for me as I listened in one spot. “And out.” He exhaled. I could hear the rattle in his chest clearly, as he exhaled. I moved the diaphragm around listening to different parts of the lungs, from the top of the lung field to the bottom. I removed my hand from under his shirt, tucking it back in. 

“How does it sound?” He asked, reading over a paper George had handed him. 

“Well Lip it sounds better than last time I checked, but there is still fluid present in the lungs. So you need to rest. If you keep going you’re going to crash. They have this handled, you need to go lie down. There are beds in the back, go sleep. And remember at least three pillows, you need your head elevated.” I tried to explain to him, but even when he first got sick he refused to rest, saying there was too much work to do. I could only drag a horse to water.  

“George, have you had any word about if they will send us some antibiotics?” I asked Luz as he moved around the room organising things. 

“No, sorry Em.” I sighed, frustrated, he needed that medication. 

“Hey, look who it is. Nice digs, huh, Lip?” I tucked the blanket into Lip’s side knowing he would refuse to move and go to bed. I looked over to Webster who stood in the passageway. 

“Sergeant Lipton? Feeling alright?” Webster asked the man.

“He’s got pneumonia.” George informed the curious soldier. I still knelt beside him, concern apparent on my features. He gave me his sorry-I-will-go-rest-soon-face. 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Webster shared his apologies. 

“What are you sorry about? He’s alive. Got a couch, a goddamn blanket, snug as a bug.” George said cigarette hanging from his mouth. I stood from my position, placing my stethoscope back into my bag. 

“Sergeant Malarkey said to check with the CO if I should be in 2nd platoon.” Webster said. 

“Have a seat, Webster. We’ll get you situated.” Lipton ushered the man to sit. He took a place at the old piano. 

“How long have you been sick?” Webster inquired. 

“Long enough.” I patted the man on his shoulder. Poor guy had been ill for a while. He had a cold at first, which I said in the first place for him to rest and let it pass. But being the caring man that he is couldn’t leave his soldiers. So he worked still, causing the cold to become worse and then it deteriorated into pneumonia. Still even with that he refused to lie still and do nothing. Which I encouraged him to do so many times, I had given up. 

“And when did nurses start helping on the frontlines?” He turned and asked me. 

“Ah, I’m a medic.” I answered. 

“Oh, that’s right! I recognise you now.” He smiled, “Yeah, wow, I’m surprised you’re still alive.” We all stilled. I sent him a disbelieving look, surely he didn’t just say that to me.

“Um… thanks?” I wasn’t sure what to say. 

“Of course Em is still alive, she’s tough as nails. Huh Em?” George came and stood beside me wrapping an arm around me as he gave me a squeeze. I smiled at Luz, nodding my head. 

“Sure am.” I turned to look at Webster, who assessed the interaction. He seemed to be puzzled at the closeness we shared. Too bad for him, it was a common sentiment I shared with all the Easy men. 

Footsteps sounded from the doorway. A young man appeared in the room. “Is this the CP for Easy company?” He asked, looking lost. 

“Yes, sir.” Lip said, moving to sit up on the couch. Everyone else in the room stood as well. I inspected the man closer, recognising the dash on his helmet showing he was a ranking officer. 

“As you were.” He told the men who stood at his arrival. “Lieutenant Jones looking for Captain Speirs.” 

“He’s on his way, sir. Why don’t you sit down.” Lip told the Lieutenant. I moved from my position standing next to Lip’s couch. I gave Luz a small wave heading for the door. Captain Speirs strolled in right as I was about to leave. He gave me a warm smile as we passed. 

“Listen, for Christ’s sake, will you go back in the back and sack out? There’s some beds back there with fresh sheets.” I heard Ron tell Lip. 

“I told him that sir, he wouldn’t listen.” I called over my shoulder. 

“Listen to Emily, she's the medic.” I laughed as Ron scolded him. I left the CP heading to where 2nd platoon had been placed. I passed Winters and Nix on my way out as well. 

“Emily! You’re looking well.” Nixon called to me, I smiled brightly at the man as I hadn’t seen him in a while. He moved forward arms wide, I stepped into his tight hug. I pulled away from Nix. Winters smiled at me, giving me a loving squeeze on the arm, as I grinned at him.  

“It’s good to see you both.” I told them happily. The exchange was brief before they set off again in the direction I had just come from. 

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

Chapter 19

[laesas]

For fanfic ask game 👀, 🌝 and 🖊 please!

OMG I ended up writing so much for these that I'm gonna have to put the long answers under a readmore! But short answers:

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

KimKen dubcon interrogation... 👀

🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

Weirdly as of late: Chan! - I'm entering my Dilf 4 Dilf divorce era someone give me pre-canon ChanGun I'm begging.

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

Chay + Tankhun hours under the cut!!

Thanks so so much lovely!!

✨📝 Writers Ask Game 📝✨

💌Send me one here!💌

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

Soooooo. I there's only one fic that I've actually written up that won't ever see the light of day and that's the 4k or so of the initial ideas and concepts for the KimBig - Kim ended up coming across as more distrustful of Big than he is (because it's Big POV we dont get to see inside his head), and it ended up coming across as a little too "Vegas". While he's rude to Big in canon he isnt actually hugely distrustful; he's banking on Big serving Kinn over Korn to get information on Porsche and the potential mole(s).

I love the energy but it felt very 2-dimensional and I couldn't wrangle the context it to make it work. Plus I absolutely love the emotional vulnerability I've created in the KimBig 2.0 from Kim's perspective - it feels a lot more realistic. I realised if I wanted to use the first dynamic I'd definitely have to make it happen with someone Kim didn't trust at all (cue Ken).

So in short: The rework where it's KimKen - Kim suspects that Ken is the mole and goes all knife-to-throat femme fatale while accusing Ken of sleeping with Vegas. Which he is btw. But that's beside the point lol.

🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

Considering the rest of the content of my blog you absolutely could not guess this but yeah! Chan...........? the last few weeks I've suddenly been gripped with a bunch of swirling thoughts about his relationships with the three main family boys, with Big who also grew up in the household and how he's not allowed to pick a favourite bodyguard (big) or a favourite sibling (kim). Plus all the nuances of his loyalty to Korn and interactions with the minor household as well.

Chan + Vegas' dynamic particularly fascinates me! Vegas often uses english as a show of status: to include his family and exclude lower ranking bodyguards who are primarily thai speakers (eg. speaking english with macau at the dinner table, speaking english to Porsche and using weird idioms to throw him off balance). In ep 14 he pointedly says 'know your place!' in english to Chan. To any other bodyguard it would be another layer of pulling rank but Chan is acting on Korn's behalf and completely fluent in english so the effect is competely different, as is his response. There's a kind of implied superiority that Chan is immune to, both because of his proximity to Korn, AND because of his fluency in english. IDK if I've explained that well at ALL but there's something super interesting there ✨ Point being: Chan's english fluency vs Vegas' pointed use of english my beloved.

Also I joke about him and Gun giving "divorced" energy, but I feel like ChanGun has the exact same energy I love from KenBig but with even more hatefucking and complex ranks and loyalties. I am entering my Dilf4Dilf divorce era it seems. Rotating them in my mind as we speak.

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.

I'm currently reworking the first chapter of my KimChay which starts with Tankhun and Chay bonding hours! Chay's trying to get Tankhun to let him learn self defence and Tankhun is deflecting.

“What-?” Chay says, momentarily distracted. Khun pounces. “Yes! Robots, I helped him build them, you know! It was like a video game! No need to learn fighting when you can shoot with the computer or make explosions from the safety of your safe room! They were so helpful when- Owh. I don't want to talk about it actually.” “When what?” “I’m bored of this topic now, it’s not interesting to me anymore.” “P’Khuuun,” Chay whines, hopping up onto the dresser and trying more and more ridiculous angles to lean himself into Tankhun’s eyeline as he dips and dodges around Chay’s encroaching face. Chay eventually gives up and grabs hold of his wrist, the way he does with Porsche, the way he did with-  Khun startles and tenses, wide eyed, milliseconds from snatching it away.  “Sorry-” Chay starts, removing his hands, but Tankhun’s arm stays frozen in mid air for a moment before he comes back to himself. Chay watches in the mirror as Khun settles his expression, when he’s satisfied he turns to look up at Chay. Level. His smile is soft but his eyes are blank. Chay’s seen that mask before. “It's fine,” Tankhun says quickly, it sounds clipped and strange. His smile is bright as a camera flash and gone just as quickly. “Could you- in my closet-” He frowns, “You should swap the jackets. You forgot one. I picked it out for you and you forgot it and now your outfit is all wrong. Go and fix it-” he clicks his fingers “Pol. Help him fix it now.” Pol nods, smiling at Chay and walking them back through the wardrobe doors. He beats Chay to the jacket and crouches to pick it up from where it was slumped on the floor. Chay reaches out to take it, suddenly desperate to leave and go back to Tankhun, to fix things, to apologise and tell him he was right and that the jackets do look better the other way around. Pol doesn’t let go. “Hold on, he needs a moment sometimes,”

It all ends up ok in the end! Tankhun is fine really!

In my mind Chay has very much latched on to Tankhun as a stabilising presence (which Tankhun has revelled in because very few people trust him that way). Tankhun is able to support Chay because he just inherently understands a lot of what Chay's going through, but because Khun is so overwhelmingly supportive, sometimes Chay forgets that the root of the understanding is that Tankhun is still traumatised too.

BUT it is fine. And crucially after he calms down, Khun doesn't let Chay shrink and go all apologetic and pliant the way he does when Porsche feels bad. Chay is allowed to feel bad for hurting Tankhun without that requiring him giving up all his autonomy and reasonable requests. I think that's a pretty important thing for Chay to learn - and that theme of autonomy becomes important in his conversations with Kim later!

THANKS SO MUCH FOR ASKING LOVELY LOVELY EGG!!

[filament-max]

At the Catch Ch. 9 Preview #1

Well…I tried to write y’all some smut and it turned into 4k of mostly fluff (but isn’t emotional intimacy the ultimate smut?). Chapter 9 is coming along, but a bit slowly.  Second (angst?) preview next week or the week after, and I’m going to change my posting day to Friday/Saturday rather than Tuesday/Wednesday.  Excerpt below and writing playlist at the end!

 “You can’t always go first.”

“Oh, I can’t?”

“No, it’s not allowed.”

“Allowed?” Kara laughed, her eyebrows shooting up, and Lena found herself thoroughly endeared at how Kara’s nose scrunched up, at the whole perfect picture, really.  

She stepped close to Kara, kept a sliver of space between them.  “That’s right.  Or don’t you like listening to me?”

Immediately, Kara teetered towards her, into her, slack in that way Lena loved.  Slack as if all of the tension in Kara’s body, all the stress and soreness that Lena had seen weigh on her after long practices, had sensed preyed on her mind in rare moments of brimming quiet…all gone; gone as if it could be eased with a brush of Lena’s hand, with a well-judged whisper.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”  She tangled her fingers with Kara’s, planted a kiss on her neck.  Smiled at how Kara settled against her.  At the silent question in the catch of Kara’s breath—what next?

“Bed.” She turned, hardly had to pull Kara after her, started around the corner to the bedroom.  Glanced back and treated herself to the view of Kara floating along like a cartoon character who had just smelled a particularly tasty pie.

And it was dumb and adorable and it should have made her laugh, but instead Lena felt her chest constrict. Felt her eyes burn.  Felt the telltale doubt creep out from the corners of her mind.

Kara certainly made it difficult for her to doubt, difficult to question that the vast sum of Kara’s earnest sweetness, kindness, adoration could actually be directed at her.

But part of her kept asking if she really deserved all of that.

She didn’t realize she’d stopped until Kara bumped into her, set them both off-balance.

That snapped her out of it, fortunately. Brought her back to Kara, to the task at hand.

And even if part of her wasn’t so sure she deserved Kara, she’d never doubted that Kara deserved every patience, every iota of care and affection she could muster.

Newly determined, she marched Kara to the edge of the bed, wasted no time in pressing up against her and kissing her.  Slow at first, lips parting as they shared a breath, but with gentle, sure acceleration, pulling their joined hands up and resting them against her own chest.  Letting Kara feel how Lena’s heart beat for her.  Wondering if this would be the moment when Kara would guess the depth of her feelings.  Thinking for the first time that it wouldn’t be the worst thing, if Kara knew she loved her.

The thought startled her, her lips stuttering against Kara’s, the rhythm of the kiss lost.

But Kara was quiet, her hand flexing in Lena’s, no confrontation forthcoming.

Lena pulled back.  “Lay down.”

There was a moment thick with hesitation before Kara did so, and it felt a little odd, how Kara’s hand tightened around hers, how she tentatively drew Lena down onto the bed beside her. How she fidgeted when Lena moved closer. How her eyebrows drew together and she swallowed.

Easy.

She settled on her side next to Kara.  Didn’t touch her apart from their twined fingers.  Only smiled a little, tried to radiate calm and stillness.

It was satisfying, how Kara stilled too, fidgeting fading.  How Kara smiled back after a minute.

Lena took it as an invitation to speak.  “It’s okay if you aren’t ready, or if you don’t want this.  We don’t have to do anything.”  She studied Kara’s expression intently.  Looked for the things Kara wouldn’t say.

And Kara’s eyes did drop, unfocus, her brow furrowing.  Reflecting, checking in with herself.  Lena’s chest ached with pride, with hope.  She turned her eyes loose, let the warm ache in her chest expand as her gaze roved over the lovely lines and curves of Kara’s profile.

Got a little lost in that, in the faint impression of a scar above Kara’s left eyebrow, in her laugh lines, in the way her ponytail pulled her hair taut, opened up her face.

Thought, it’s so weird, loving someone like this.

Not only noticing laugh lines, but staring at them.  Committing them to memory.  Imagining how they’d feel under her hands, against her lips, between her thighs. Reveling in how it’d be after, lingering with Kara in the afterglow.

At that moment, Kara came back to her, met her eyes.  Smiled at her, laugh lines stretching, deepening, and why, oh why did that alone give her butterflies, chase the thoughts out of her head?

She watched Kara take a deep breath, couldn’t have looked away if she tried.

“I know I want this.  And I…I think I am ready.”  Kara’s smile faded.  “I’m just…worried.”

Lena tried not to pounce on that, but nonetheless felt a surge of relief.  They’d gotten close to this conversation a few times, usually when they were already in the thick of things.  Kara hadn’t been ready to talk about it then, but maybe now would be different.

“Why are you worried?” she asked, level and easy.

Kara didn’t say anything for a long time, only looked down and played with Lena’s hand, moving their fingers apart only to bring them back together again, stopping to stroke tingly circles in Lena’s palm with her thumb.

And, as always, it never felt like waiting with Kara, not when this was right where she needed to be.

Kara opened her mouth, and then—all at once—they were having the conversation.  

“It…sometimes…it takes me…awhile.”

The whisper fluttered between them like a living thing, uneven and precarious, shuddering with secretive shame.

It took a considerable effort not to reach out and take it between her palms, to soothe it still and quiet and bury it under a mountain of assurances.  To lay there and observe it instead.  To actually have the conversation first and let the assurances follow.

But that didn’t mean the conversation couldn’t be fun.

She reached out and squeezed Kara’s bicep. Raised an eyebrow.  “Are you questioning my attention span?”

And that made Kara laugh, thankfully.  Made her snuggle closer.  “No.”  Kara’s face fell, and she looked away again.  But the words still came.  “But I don’t want you to be…”

“Me to be…?” she prompted, running her finger up Kara’s arm.

She watched Kara fish for the words, watched her wince as they came to mind.  “Bored,” Kara said, a rough edge to her voice.  “Or disheartened.”  And then, still quieter, her voice cracking, “Frustrated.”

Fuck.

Even though Lena had suspected it would be something like this, it was different…worse, to hear Kara say it.  To hear her voice break over the words.  To wonder if these insecurities were really so abstract, or if they’d been cultivated with experience, with partners bored or disheartened or with the nerve to be fucking frustrated.

It was a lucky thing that she managed not to say the first impulsive assurance that came to mind (I can’t stop thinking about fucking you), instead took a moment to gather herself and help Kara to the logic behind the assurance.

“Do you get bored when you’re touching me?” she asked, drawing circles on Kara’s shoulder with her finger.

The look Kara gave her then wasn’t one she’d soon forget, as if Lena had questioned the culinary value of potstickers or grown a second head.  “No.  Never. Are you kidding?”

She pursed her lips, raised her eyebrows the slightest bit, see?

Kara caught up quickly, and she gave Lena a look then that was far more familiar.  Lips parted, her wide blue eyes moving over Lena’s face in something akin to wonder, blinking.  Lena wasn’t sure what this look meant for Kara, but she knew how it made her feel.  How it’d made her feel the last time she’d seen it, Kara resting on top of her with this same wonderstruck expression, cradling her face—There’s no one like you, Lena.

And Lena had to be the one to look away then, had to catch her breath.

She was still a little breathless when she pushed on through the rest of it, “And have you ever been disheartened?  Or frustrated?”

Kara shifted beside her. Moved closer.  “No,” she whispered.

“And I’m not going to be either.”  She glanced back over at Kara, her heart giving a particularly frantic thump when she was met with that same wonderstruck expression.  “No matter what,” she promised, her voice heavy with it.

Kara didn’t say anything, but that seemed to be a sort of answer.  The sun had set while they’d been laying there, dying orange light falling in long rays.  They lightened Kara’s hair, made Kara fucking glow even more than usual, of course.  Made Lena want to see more of her.

Easing forward, she held her hand up, stopping short of Kara’s ponytail.  “Can I?”

Almost bashful, Kara nodded, her cheeks rosier than usual.

So fucking cute.

She cocked an eyebrow and tugged on Kara’s ponytail lightly.  Excited herself with how Kara’s chin rose, how the muscles in her neck moved.  

“You’re beautiful like this,” she said, moving to slip the hairband off, onto her own wrist.  She dug her hands into Kara’s soft hair, flipped it forward and fluffed it out.  “And like this too.”

Kara appeared to take a bracing breath, reached out to touch Lena’s cheek.  But didn’t deflect.  Sat in the compliment and smiled at Lena instead.

Sliding closer, she rested her hand on Kara’s waist.  Didn’t miss how Kara jumped under her touch, or the quietest of apologetic whispers that followed, “Sorry.”

And that wouldn’t do.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” she said, trying for light, easy, unbothered.  Trying to lower the stakes.  “Do you want a hug?”

Kara’s warm smile returned, and Lena felt a little fuzzy, a little off-balance even before Kara opened her arms.

Scooting up against Kara, into her arms, Lena could have guessed at the rush of sweet sensations that would follow—Kara’s vanilla-citrus scent, her scratchy-soft flannel, her chest expanding against Lena’s.  But what she couldn’t have guessed was that Kara would tighten her hold, would take the opportunity to roll them back and forth across the bed.  That Kara would laugh at her gasp of surprise, and then at her muffled noises of protest.

When they came to a sudden stop, Kara was pressing her into the mattress, was just as swiftly kissing her with smoldering intensity, with a desire that seemed to say, I’m going to have you how I want you.

And while part of her certainly…reacted…to that, it wasn’t the next thing on her agenda.

She tapped Kara’s shoulder.  “I want to be on top.”

Kara hummed, gave her a peck.  “If that’s what you want.”  Rolled them over again with more speed than seemed strictly necessary, Lena putting her hand out and halting their momentum with a huff.

She narrowed her eyes, propped herself up and straddled Kara so she could see her better.  “You don’t want to make this easy for me, do you?”

Avoiding her eyes, Kara shrugged.  “Wanted to give you an out.”

Her heart dropped out of her chest, and she only just managed to bite back a stricken sigh. Wished she could summon as much warmth as Kara could, made a valiant attempt as she leaned down and took Kara’s face in her hands.  “I don’t want an out.  I want you.”

And then she waited there, stroking Kara’s cheeks with her thumbs.  Only felt her heart return to her chest when Kara met her eyes and took a hitching breath, when Kara leaned forward and kissed her.  Kissed her soft, and then with blooming, expanding regard, her lips parting wide to welcome Lena’s tongue.

Kara pulled back first, and her voice came out hoarse, “Can we see how it feels?  And you don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to?”

“As long as you tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

“Yeah.”  Kara smiled, that slow, growing, honeyed smile that Lena loved.  “Yeah, okay.”

She helped herself to Kara slowly, as much for herself as for Kara.  Exploratory foreplay wasn’t unfamiliar to her, of course, but it’d most often been fast-paced with Andrea and the other women she’d been with. There was a difference between teasing, breathing hotly against a squirming woman’s cunt and nosing the inside of her thighs, and exploring, flaring fingers and searing kisses tempered by soft curiosity.  

And Lena was determined to explore every inch of Kara.

Which first involved much kissing, much tugging of clothes, much flushing delight at how Kara felt pinned under her, at how Kara smiled and whispered yes, moved to help Lena get her clothes off.  At how Kara’s sun-kissed skin gave way to stark tan lines, to lighter, untouched skin and to a lacy blue bra and panties.  At how perfect, how squarely right it felt that this was her second chance to see Kara in them, to do something about how unreasonably hot Kara looked like this, staring up at Lena, her golden hair fanned out around her on the bed.

She ran her finger up Kara’s abs, more than a little affected at the reminder of how solid, how strong Kara was, not that she could have forgotten.  Inhaling deeply, she turned her finger to trace along the bottom band of Kara’s bra.  “I’m so glad you wore this for me,” she said, her voice low and tight.

“You like it?”

Chuckling, she brushed Kara’s hair away from her ear.  “Yes. I like you in boxer briefs and sports bras too, but…”  She lowered herself down against Kara, whispered, “…but I can already tell you’re going to be so good at letting me have you like this.”

Kara’s gulp might have been audible from the other room, let alone from right up against her, and Lena sat back on her heels, worry pulling at her gut.  It’d been a push, she knew, but a push she hoped would help Kara sink into this.

“Did you like that?” she asked, trying to interpret Kara’s struck, suspended expression.  “I don’t have to talk-.”

“I liked it.”  Kara nodded rapidly, eager.  “Liked that.” She seemed to recover, smiled brightly up at Lena and rested her hand on Lena’s hip.  “I like you.”

She couldn’t resist smiling back, leaned down to capture Kara’s lips and rekindle their momentum.

It went well for a while then, slow and steady between them, growing heavier with each passing minute. Groping for the lamp and flicking it on to bathe Kara in soft light.  Yielding to Kara’s searching hands, trying to get her own clothes off without breaking apart from Kara for more than a second.  Kissing and stroking her way over Kara’s body, rewarding Kara with possessive grabs and renewed effort when she felt Kara’s hand tighten in her hair, when Kara sighed or moaned.

Slowly, slowly, she worked Kara’s bra off, spent several minutes listening and feeling how Kara responded to her touch.  It had swiftly become her favorite puzzle, figuring out what made Kara tick.  

She’d learned a lot about how Kara liked her boobs played with in the last few weeks, but that didn’t make it any less satisfying to build her up, to feel how quickly Kara’s chest started to rise and fall under her attentions, harsh breaths and hands fisting in and around Lena. To graze Kara’s nipple with her teeth and to hear how Kara gasped, to feel how Kara’s hips jumped under her.

Grinning against Kara, grinning wide and pressing it to Kara’s skin so she’d feel it, Lena ran her hand down Kara’s side, let it rest on her thigh.

Things started to change a little, then.

It started with a tremble in Kara’s thigh, right there where she’d left her hand.  Which she read as good, initially, the sensation of what she assumed to be Kara’s nervous excitement sending a bolt of heat between her own legs.  With a whine, she grinded down on one of Kara’s thighs.  It was difficult to swallow suddenly, caught up in what it’d felt like to have the solid length of muscle pressed to her last week, flexing against her twitching clit and driving her up towards the headboard relentlessly.

Perhaps that was why it took her a minute to feel not just the trembling, but the tensing.  How Kara had coiled herself up like a spring.

With dawning apprehension, she looked up to meet Kara’s eyes.

Found them clouded, Kara’s brow furrowed in that way it did when Kara was hard at work on an article or on figuring out the walking schedules for the neighborhood dogs.

She moved off of Kara, shifted to her kneel beside her.  “Hey.”

Kara exhaled, slightly shaky.  “Hi.” But the set of her shoulders remained tense, rigid.

Okay.  She needed time.

Unhurried, Lena telegraphed her movements, laid down beside Kara and brushed her hand against Kara’s.  Kara took it at once, threaded their fingers together.  And then all she had to do was sit in this moment with Kara, to listen to her breathing gradually even out, to take in how still and quiet and full it felt between them.

To wait until it felt right to say, “It’s possible you’re thinking too much, darling.”

Kara vibrated beside her, chuckled.  Turned and pressed a kiss to her cheek.  “I’m thinking too much?  Me?”

Smirking, she gave Kara a playful bump.  “There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.”

Kara laughed again, the best sound, squeezed her hand.

They laid in the quiet, in the low light of the lamp.

“Can we try again?”

Lena doubted she would have heard the whisper if their heads weren’t resting against each other.

“Yes.  Always,” she said, as affirmative as she could make it.  She turned onto her side, faced Kara.  “I’m not expecting anything, you know.  You don’t have to worry.”  She reached out, ran her hand down Kara’s chest, stomach, stopped just above her underwear.  “If you do want this, all you have to do is relax.”  

Swiftly, she turned her eyes up, read Kara’s expression—a little stupefied, but liquid loose, slack for her.  She let go of Kara’s hand, rested it on the side of Kara’s warm neck instead.  Leaned in and kissed her.  Whispered to her, “I don’t need to make you come to make you feel good.”

Kara shuddered, and she smiled, kissed her again. Thrilled at how quickly Kara recovered, how voraciously Kara kissed her back.

Broke away breathless, raised an eyebrow.  “Do you…want that?”

The goofy, dazed grin plastered on Kara’s face made Lena clench her hands with want, for some unfathomable reason, and Kara’s rambling answer didn’t help matters, “Uh, yes…if you…yeah.  I mean, I really, really do…want…sign me up?  But…but is this something you sign up for?  If it’s just us?  I bet you’d probably have a lot of people-.”

“Kara.”

“Oh, right.  Yeah.  Thank you. Ye-.”

She kissed Kara before she could start up again, before she inadvertently made it impossible for Lena to focus on anything else but the impossible heat gathering in her gut.

Soon enough, she settled into the slower pace from earlier, found a groove with Kara that had her body singing, had Kara moving to close any and all distance between them.  She spent a long time making sure Kara liked the feeling of Lena’s hand on her waist, over her legs, between her thighs.

And then, with a murmured exchange of yes? and yes, her fingers grazed Kara over her soft, lacy underwear.  Slightly damp underwear, she found with a jolt, Kara slicker for her than she’d dare hope.

“Kara, you feel so good,” she sighed, and Kara whimpered, held her closer.  

“So do you,” Kara replied, her voice strained.

“Relax,” she whispered back, moving her hand still more slowly against Kara.  “Try to relax, dearest.”

She waited until she felt Kara stretch loose-limbed beneath her.  Kissed her and rubbed slow circles over Kara’s underwear.  Let them both get used to it before she asked, “Can I take these off? Or do you want them on?”

“Off,” Kara said, apparently not up for further elaboration.

Her heart thumped particularly hard again, fuck, and she drew back enough to grab either side of the panties, to slide them down Kara’s legs.  Kara shifted to help, kicked them away when Lena got them down to her ankles, so transparently eager that Lena rocked subtly against her.

Easy, she reminded herself, and she slowed them back down.  Rested her hand on Kara’s thigh lightly.  “Hi.”

Kara bit her lip.  “Hey.”

“How are you?” she asked, her eyes flicking down to Kara’s cunt, to her trim, fair hair and the slick, swollen clit peeking out.

Fuck, wow.

She closed her eyes, steadied herself.  Tried not to dwell on how it’d feel to tease Kara’s stiff bud with her fingers, how it’d be to take Kara’s clit in her mouth and suck on her, taste her-.

Something tucked her hair behind her ear, and when she opened her eyes, Kara flashed her a self-satisfied grin.  Settled her hand on the nape of Lena’s neck and husked, “Who’s thinking too much now?”

She narrowed her eyes, saw it for the flirtatious challenge for control that it was, pushed Kara back against the bed firmly. “Can you blame me?  You’re…,” she gestured up and down the length of Kara’s body, eyes catching on muscle group after muscle group, flushing at how inarticulate she’d become.  “You’re a fucking statue,” she settled on, undercurrent of irritation fading.  Tentatively, she moved her hand over Kara’s chest, skated featherlight over her collarbones.  “You’re beautiful, and I’m so happy I get to be here with you.”

And Kara seemed content to continue whatever world record for eye contact they seemed to be going for lately, looking up at her in that way she had sometimes, like Lena had never disappointed her and never could.

She tried not to let that unnerve her, tried not to block out the slowly shrinking part of her that said, you don’t deserve it.  Focused on Kara instead.  “Now: how are you?”

Kara chuckled, shook her head.  Waved her hand as if it the answer were obvious.  

But Lena waited, wanted to hear.

“I don’t need that much more,” Kara finally said, blue eyes wide, guileless, wondering.  Apparently still trying for the world record for eye contact.  “You’ve already given me so much.  Want to give it back to you.”

And as much as her body leapt at that prospect, as much as she’d give for Kara to find out exactly how wet she was…they’d barely even started.

She reached down and stroked up through Kara’s folds.  Took gleeful note of how Kara gasped, how she chased the contact with her hips and grabbed for Lena.

“Are you asking me to stop because you’re done or because you think I am?”  She kissed along Kara’s neck, started slow, light circles around her clit.  “Because I’m not even close to done with you, Danvers. But I’ll stop if you want.”

“Oh my god.”

 Writing playlist for this chapter:

           Deceptacon by Le Tigre

           I’m Going Down Like the Titanic by Javi That’s Me

           My Girl by The Temptations

           Kiss by Adiescar Chase

           California Dreamin’ by Chris Lorenzo + High Jinx (for the Metropolis race)

           Bette Davis Eyes by Kim Carnes

           Encounters by bl00dwave

           Wet Dream by Wet Leg

           Little Death by The Beths

           Go Down On You by The Memories

           Chapter theme:  Amour plastique by Videoclub

[molluskwritesfic]

Black Herons - Ch. 2

Masterlist — Ao3 — First Chapter - Next Chapter

Pairing: Duke Leto Atreides I x Fem!OC (slow burn)

Rating: M

Word count: 4k

Chapter Two: Periphery

The journey from Dering House Hall to Black Heron Hall was approximately 3 hours by ornithopter and upwards of twenty by groundcar. Without the tip from Rhiannon’s spies at Dering House Hall, the first advance warning Black Heron Hall would have received of an approaching aircraft would have been from the watchtowers hidden in the mountains — about thirty minutes out.

Except those towers had been abandoned at the end of the Last Great Ironian House War (Rhiannon had quietly kept them manned anyway), so the first ‘official’ warning would have been fifteen minutes before arrival, when an approaching aircraft was legally required to announce its presence and request permission to land or risk being shot down.

Rhiannon was grateful that she had longer than fifteen minutes to decide how she would receive two of her future husband’s closest advisors. It was easy to imagine the chaos that would’ve ensued in order to make sure the house was ready to host. Three hours gave Rhiannon and the staff the breathing space to not only put in the effort to make everything perfect, but to also make it look as if no effort had been made at all.

Three hours also gave Rhiannon time to decide how she wanted to dress. Although it was highly unlikely that he would arrive on the shuttle with Hawat and Idaho (but Rhiannon had not discounted the possibility), he could probably be expected to arrive on another shuttle anywhere between three to five hours after the first. This meant that the outfit she chose to greet Hawat and Idaho in would probably also be the one she wore to meet the Duke.

It seemed a frivolous thing to dwell on, but Rhiannon had long since learned the power of perception. It was more about the character she portrayed. She could dress in her finest and be the vain, air-headed creature she used to make her enemies discount her. She could wear the stiff, militaristic suits she wore when she needed others to recognize her for her leadership skills and cunning. She could be a simple, sweet widow to garner pity, or witty and charismatic to make friends. Everything in between or none at all.

By the time the ornithopter settled onto a landing pad by the air hangar, Rhiannon had dressed in a dusky blue jumpsuit of satin and chiffon. For her, it was business casual — the kind of thing she wore around Dering House Hall, when any moment might turn into a politically charged negotiation. Intricate lace patterns ran from each shoulder down to the silver belt at her waist, then down further to her hips; a matching cape sewn over her shoulders floated behind her as she moved. The only jewelry in the ensemble were the silver pins that held her hair in an updo and the diamond encrusted brooch in the shape of the fish that was Dering House Crest.

As Lady of the House, there was no need for her to greet Hawat and Idaho on the landing pad. The correct procedure was for her Chief of Staff and a small complement of guards to meet the visitors, who would request an audience with Rhiannon and be promptly escorted to where she waited in her study.

The Chief of Staff materialized at the doorway, a haughty man with papery skin and the overall disposition of an unimpressed ferret. He was unflappable and efficient, so Rhiannon liked him very much. “M’Lady Countess. Thufir Hawat and Duncan Idaho.”

Rhiannon stood from where she’d been seated and walked around her desk. “Yes. Send them in, please.”

The Chief of Staff stood to the side and bade two men dressed black Atreides work uniforms to enter. Rhiannon smiled and greeted them warmly, clasping each of their hands in the half handshake of the Imperium.

Thufir Hawat was an old man, though Rhiannon could not guess as to his actual age. His dark skin had the cracked, weathered look of old leather and his lips were stained in the manner of Mentats. He stood proudly, shoulders squared and chin high, and Rhiannon noted the way his wary eyes flickered quickly around the room, observing and cataloging the space in the way expected of any good Master of Assassins.

Duncan Idaho was much younger, perhaps in his early thirties, but no less impressive. Tall and broad shouldered, he embodied what every soldier and warrior aspired to be. Idaho’s hair was on the long side, dark and wavy, tied behind his head in a ponytail. While his physique inclined him to be physically intimidating, the way he held himself marked him as humble and fairly easygoing. Despite the kindness in his dark eyes, Rhiannon didn’t doubt that he was perfectly capable of great violence.

Rhiannon neatly clasped her hands in front of her and looked between her two guests. “Now then, are you here on business, or is this a social call?”

“Business, m’Lady,” Hawat said. “Apologies for such short notice, but we’ve had some… security concerns that have made announcing our movements unwise.”

“Oh dear. Trouble, sir?”

“With other Houses beyond Iro,” he added. “Nothing that you need to concern yourself with, m’Lady.”

Rhiannon already knew about this, of course. Some of House Atreides’ enemies also had an eye on Ironian profits, and had been sniffing around, looking for ways to disrupt the alliance Atreides was forging with Dering. The most obvious way of doing this was by removing Rhiannon from the picture, by assassination or otherwise, but those who sought that path quickly learned that it was extraordinarily difficult to get anywhere near her, and those who managed it had the peculiar tendency to disappear without a trace.

She nodded seriously. “I see.”

“We’re here on account of Duke Atreides, who hopes it would not be too inconvenient for him to visit Black Heron Hall later today.”

Rhiannon lifted her eyebrows slightly, her only outward sign of surprise, even though it was fake. “It would not be inconvenient at all. The Duke Atreides and his men are always welcome at Black Heron Hall.”

Hawat dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you, m’Lady. With your permission, I would like to conduct a security search to secure the house, for both your and the Duke’s safety.”

“Of course. The house and staff are at your disposal. Is there anything you require to accomplish your task?”

“No, my Lady, the guards I brought with me and those already stationed here will suffice.” He was clearly on a schedule, and anxious to get started. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. There is work to be done.”

At Rhiannon’s acknowledgment, the Mentat turned and left the study, already familiar with the estate’s layout and not needing any assistance finding his way around. Rhiannon was left with Idaho, who stayed standing politely, clearly with other things to discuss.

Sensing that he was less formal, and having noted the way he had been sneaking interested glances at the refreshments that had been left out on a low table in the sitting area, Rhiannon visibly relaxed and took one of the drinks for herself before settling back into one of the velvet chairs. Idaho took this as permission to do the same, sitting opposite of her and taking a sip from the glass. He coughed a bit, surprised but pleased.

Rhiannon smiled knowingly. “I take it no one’s offered you pepper-sap tea yet?”

Pepper-sap tea was an Ironian favorite. Served hot in the winter and cold in the summer, the beloved beverage was made from the leaves and sap of a tree only found in the mountains of Iro, very spicy and usually mixed with whatever alcohol was available. Rhiannon had taken the liberty of adding a splash of a locally-brewed rum to each cup.

“No, my Lady,” he coughed. “It’s good.”

“Well, I suppose it is more popular in the mountains it is than in the Flats,” she mused. “Try it with one of the sweet-salmon bites. They pair well together.”

Idaho did, and agreed that the combination was very good. Ice broken, Rhiannon gave a satisfied nod and steered the conversation back to business. She sat her glass of spicy tea down and gave him her full attention.

“Now then, was there more you wanted to discuss?”

“Yes, m’Lady,” he said, taking her cue and straightening up. “It has to do with the security concerns Hawat mentioned. While we don’t think that there is a direct threat to your person, there’s still the possibility that you may be approached by people who want to interfere with House Atreides affairs.”

Rhiannon frowned. She wondered if he was just trying not to worry her, or if they genuinely weren’t aware that several would-be assassins had already passed through her orbit. Something about Idaho’s wording sparked her interest, too. You may be approached by people who want to interfere with House Atreides affairs. Did they think a rival house would try to turn her into a spy for them?

Possibly. A Duchess infiltrator would be very dangerous indeed. She wondered if House Atreides had a history of the high ranking women of Castle Caladan turning against the Great House. She’d heard rumors about Lady Kailea, the concubine that served Duke Leto before Lady Jessica, and had formulated a few of her own suspicions about the Duke’s estranged mother. She made a mental note to look into it more later.

The fact that they may already be suspicious of her was worrying. While Rhiannon had no intention of betraying House Atreides, she had enemies that would like nothing more than to make the Duke think that she was plotting against him. The ground Rhiannon walked on was already unstable. She needed the Duke and his council to trust her, at least until she was established enough on Caladan to protect herself.

Idaho continued, oblivious to her troubled thoughts. “Since the Duke is returning to Caladan, he fears that our rivals may think you’re vulnerable. My Duke has asked that I be assigned as your Personal Guard until you travel to Caladan in a few weeks time.”

So which is it, Duncan? Rhiannon thought. Are you here to protect me, to keep people from whispering in my ear, or to spy on me?

“I’d be honored,” Rhiannon said, entirely polite and composed. “Trevil Pennon is the head of my Personal Guard. I’ll tell him that he is to collaborate with you.” She paused for a moment as her mind suddenly switched tracks. Rhiannon cursed under her breath.

Idaho stiffened, glass halfway to his lips. “My Lady?”

“I forgot to warn Hawat about Aunt Elsbeth’s sex room,” Rhiannon complained. Idaho choked. “Is he likely to take offense to that sort of thing?”

Idaho, coughing over his drink for an entirely different reason than before, took a few moments to respond.

“…Her… she…” He finally sputtered, sinuses burning from the wrongly swallowed pepper-sap. “What?”

“Yes, well,” she went on, graciously ignoring the Sword Master’s suffering, “you can’t walk into it accidentally, because it’s only accessible through her private rooms. But it can be a bit… let’s say shocking… if you aren’t prepared for it.”

Idaho stared at her for a few long moments, utterly perplexed. Then his mouth twitched. Trying to hide a smile. Failing at it. Rhiannon tutted at Hawat’s misfortune, seemingly serious, but her dark eyes glittered with mirth. They both gave into their amusement, snickering together at the thought of the no-nonsense Master of Assassins suddenly finding himself in a noblewoman’s personal sex den.

“At least she isn’t home at the moment,” Rhiannon said eventually, rubbing at the corner of her eye. “I sent her to town to look at travel dresses. For Hawat’s sake, I hope he’s finished searching her private chambers by the time she gets back. Otherwise he may get more than he bargained for.”

“Would she actually fuc—?” Idaho floundered, remembering that he was speaking to his future Duchess. “Excuse me, m’Lady, I mean… Thufir Hawat’s a good man, but… would Lady Levin actually…”

“Anything,” Rhiannon smirked, full of exasperated affection, “everything. If it moves, it’s fair game. She’s a spider, and I’ve lost count of the number of political incidents my beloved aunt has caused by luring people into her web.”

Idaho raised his eyebrows and looked at the empty doorway that his companion had vanished through. “I don’t claim to know much of anything about Thurfir’s personal life, but… maybe it would do him some good.”

Rhiannon laughed. She knew that she’d won him over, and was pleased. As a member of Duke Leto’s inner circle, she would undoubtedly need Duncan Idaho’s seal of approval in the coming months. “Part of the reason I’m leaving Aunt Elsbeth here at Black Heron Hall is because I don’t want to traumatize the poor movers. If nothing else, I’d be interested to know if he says anything to you about it. ”

Duncan Idaho grinned roguishly at her, all outward wariness towards her evaporated. “I’ll keep that in mind, m’Lady.”

Iro was a planet of mountains; low, rolling seas of forest separating the jagged, snowcapped spines of the numerous Great Ranges that crisscrossed the planet. There were no oceans, only freshwater lakes and raging rivers. In the lower latitudes around the equator was a ribbon of tundra, known as the Great Flats, where most of the planet's major cities were located.

Two Atreides ornithopters droned their way out of the Great Flats, heading north from the city of Talay and Dering House Hall towards a distant Great Range known as the Keninias. The first ornithopter carried Duke Leto Atreides and Gurney Halleck, as well as two extra guards. The second ‘thopter’s singular purpose was to protect the first.

Although there was no real reason for Duke Leto to pilot the ‘thopter, he did anyway, if only to give his hands something to do. Anything to distract him from his troubled thoughts.

The Old Duke Paulus Atreides would ask his son, “What’s the first rule of the House?”

Leto would have to repeat it back to him, word for word: “Never marry for love, or it will bring our House down.”

It was something Leto’s father had said many times throughout his youth, and one of the few things he and his mother could actually agree on.

Leto had taken this rule to heart, though there had been times where he wished he had the nerve to defy it. He hadn’t been willing to marry Kailea Vernius, and it had torn them apart in a spectacularly tragic fashion. Now he wouldn’t marry Jessica either, and he feared the same thing might happen to their relationship.

Leto knew that Jessica understood why he couldn’t marry her, knew that she saw the value in political marriages, knew she saw the value in this marriage. She was far too smart and practical not to. But he also knew, despite it all, that she had been quietly hanging onto the hope that he would marry her anyway. They’d fallen in love, she’d given him a son, and they had been happy.

But now Leto was finally going to marry, and that quiet hope she’d been nurturing had been squandered.

Leto had hoped that bringing Jessica into making the decision would ease whatever pain it was causing. She had agreed that gaining access to Iro — complete access, at that — would benefit House Atreides in almost unimaginable ways. Despite Leto’s influence in the Landstraad, House Atreides had never been particularly wealthy — Caladan’s primary exports were humble: pundi rice, wine, and fish.

Mining and selling the raw materials of Iro would be a major economic boon for his House, and it wasn’t an opportunity that Leto could afford to pass up.

Jessica had seen the advantages and agreed to support the decision. During his visits back to Caladan he and Jessica had gone over everything in length, all the potential problems that might arise with Leto’s new wife: children, household duties, intimacy, Paul, and other things. Leto had then taken a few preliminary measures to insure that there were as few misunderstandings as possible.

Since then, though, Jessica had been cold towards him, and while he hoped that the animosity would pass once the wedding was over and everyone had had time to settle, he feared that the problems had only just begun.

It probably didn’t help that marriage had technically been Leto’s idea in the first place.

Technically.

House Dering had finally expressed interest in selling mining rights, and several Great Houses were trying to make a deal. Leto had traveled to Iro to meet with Viscount Dering and his council in person, but it hadn’t gone particularly well.

While House Atreides had a lot to offer House Dering, it wasn’t any more than the other Houses could provide.

Frustrated, Leto wandered the house for a while afterwards, seeking to clear his head. He eventually found himself in a great hall filled with paintings — the official portraits of each head of the Dering family, spanning back some thirty-odd generations. The most recent one was, naturally, of Viscount Larion Dering.

The Viscount was a tall man. His weak chin and beady hazel eyes kept him from being considered handsome, but his athletic build and easygoing personality made him easy enough to like. He stood proudly at the center of the portrait, clad in the blue and silver uniform of House Dering, one hand resting on the back of a gilded chair, the other on a ceremonial rapier sheathed at his side — every inch the man who had conquered the other Houses of Iro to end centuries of warfare.

After meeting him in person, however, Leto had his doubts. Larion Dering had no interest in politics and quickly grew bored with business, more interested in discussing the hunting trip he was planning than the future of his House.

In the portrait, the Viscount was joined by two other people, a woman and a child. This struck Leto as odd, since the other Viscounts had been depicted with their wives and children, and Larion was — to Leto’s knowledge — unmarried and childless.

The woman sat in the gilded chair. She was very beautiful, clad in a flowing silver dress with silver pins to hold back her silken brown hair. Her eyes were of the deepest brown, full of a kind of haughty benevolence. A young girl of about eight or nine sat on a low stool at the woman’s feet. She seemed small for her age, fair skinned and as delicate as a china doll. She wore a bright, happy smile that none of the other figures in any of the other paintings shared.

A little gold plaque below the portrait identified them as:

“Ah, yes, poor little Hetta,” a voice said from behind Leto. “Such a shame, that was.”

Odon Abrax, the Viscount’s Master of Finances, stood beside him. Odon was a short man with honey-brown skin and angular features, and Leto knew him because he’d been one of the few members of the Dering Council to seem to support the Atreides’ bid.

Leto straightened up from where he’d bent to examine the portrait more closely. “What shame?”

“She passed away last winter, poor thing.” Odon sounded genuinely rueful, but there was something else in his voice that Leto couldn’t quite place. “Such a sweet child.”

“That’s terrible,” Leto agreed. “I’ll pass along my condolences to the Viscount.”

Odon nodded earnestly. “The Viscount has no desire to become a father, but he adored Hetta. Things have been quite different for my poor Viscount since then, especially since his beloved sister decided to move back north. She has needed her space to grieve, of course, but I know he sorely misses her council.”

Leto looked back to the plaque for the name. “The Lady Varvara, I presume?”

“Indeed. She was devastated, of course. Hetta was her only child, and it happened quite suddenly. I know he wishes that she would return to Dering House Hall, though. For her company, if nothing else. But she seems to have lost interest in politics.”

Leto studied Odon carefully out of the corner of his eye. The Master of Finances was a strange man. Always scheming. Just from the handful of conversations they’d had, Leto had learned that, instead of making his point directly, Odon would steer the conversation in a certain direction so that it would seem like the point he was trying to make had occurred to the other person first.

The Duke sensed that this was one of those times, but had yet to see the point the Master of Finances was trying to make.

“Well, she's still young,” Leto said carefully. “I imagine she could have more children, if she likes. Especially if Count Varvara doesn’t have an heir, he may hope that she’ll bear a son.”

“She may have more children,” Odon conceded, “but her husband Count Bence Varvara died… oh… over a decade ago, now, because that was when Lady Varvara was pregnant with Hetta.”

It clicked.

Odon kept talking, seemingly oblivious to the suspicious look Leto was giving him. “Did you know, the late Count’s death indirectly triggered the Last Great Ironian House War? You see, at the time, House Varvara was feuding with House Dax, and—”

Leto tried to listen as Odon gave him a rough history lesson, but he was too distracted to hear much of what was said. He wanted to dismiss the idea immediately, but couldn’t. Leto had long been eligible for a marriage alliance. For years, the heads of Landstraad houses had paraded their daughters before him, hoping he’d take an interest. Over time, Leto had listened to many proposals, even absently considered a few.

Arguably, his eligibility was one of his greatest assets, and might be enough to clinch an exclusive deal with House Dering.

Maybe it was time.

Odon’s eyes glittered knowingly.

“That’s Ilta.” Gurney’s voice crackled over the headset. He pointed out a small cluster of red roofed buildings clinging to the side of a barefaced mountain. “We’re near the old Varvara border — about an hour out.”

“Not much out here,” Leto commented, looking down at the lonely settlement. The people there would be hunters and trappers, mostly, who would scratch out an existence living off the land, and trade for the things they couldn’t make themselves with the larger villages outside of the Keninias Mountain Range.

Gurney nodded seriously. “Yes, m’Lord. It’s said that the people of Iro won’t build their towns too close to the borders, so that they don’t get caught in the crossfire when the Houses go to war.”

Leto shook his head in mild wonder, trying to imagine what it would be like to live on a planet shaped by constant kanly. The Great Convention acted to protect innocent bystanders from blood feuds, but it did little to protect individuals in a warzone. It had been a long time since the Landstraad had paid any attention to what the Houses of Iro did, anyway.

He pushed the thoughts from his head and refocused on the challenge ahead of him.

In less than an hour, Duke Leto Atreides was going to meet the woman who was to be his wife. And though he wasn’t willing to admit it to himself, he was terrified.

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 10: On The Line

Pairing: hitman!jungkook x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, angst, fluff

WC: 4k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, a gun, everyone is confused about their feelings and oblivious

Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @jaebeomsblackgf @sugaslittlekookies @moon-asia @bangtannie7 @yoonchrisgull @njkbangtan @higashikatasgf @jksbbyfacebunny @kookiesxbananamilk @voidswan @sadxaries @bts-junseagull @jinfused @taehyungiev13 @jadethd @kimnamjoonluvbot @jungkooook @mutterseelenalleinnn @surilirani @patpus @yukiehyukie @crypticsabbat

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Previous > Next

Jungkook likes you?

The events of today won't stop going around in circles in your head. 

You clutch the giant octopus stuffie close to your chest, your legs wrapping around it. Your face is a bright red as you try to calm your breathing. 

The more you think about it, the faster your heart races. 

You need to calm down. 

Mina was mistaken. 

Yes, that's all it was. 

Mina is always trying to tell you that guys like you, but they never actually have.

She was always trying to boost your self-confidence.

That thought makes you frown. 

You don't need or want the approval of a man to boost your self-worth and confidence. 

You hug the octopus even tighter as your brows furrow in thought. 

A sigh leaves your lips as your heavy eyelids start to close slowly, sleep creeping up on you. You blink your eyes open again. For some reason, you don't want to fall asleep. 

A few minutes later, no matter how hard you try to fight it, you inevitably fall asleep, your lips set into a small frown as the worries in your mind find their way into your dreams. 

____________________

"So, why weren't you able to kill her yet?"

Tae asks in disbelief as he sits on the couch, watching Jungkook pretend to read his book. Jungkook bites his lip but ignores Tae's question as he flips the page and gets more comfortable on his bed. 

Tae glowers at his friend, "I really thought you had a good reason somewhere in that minuscule brain of yours. Apparently, you just have a death wish."

"Can you please be quiet? I'm reading."

"As fucking if you're actually reading!" Taehyung exclaims in exasperation, "Answer me. Why haven't you finished your hit yet?"

"You know why," Jungkook mumbles, his face still in his book. 

Taehyung scoffs and leans back, crossing one leg over the other, "Enlighten me."

Jungkook looks at him from over his book, "I already told you why."

"Uhm, no you didn't."

"Yes, I did!" Jungkook exclaims, "I told you I need to know why she's a target!"

"But why??" 

"I don't know!"

Taehyung looks at Jungkook like he's got two heads, making the younger squirm under his gaze. 

"So, let me get this straight," Tae coughs and points at Jungkook for emphasis, "You, an infamous hitman that has never failed a hit since he was fifteen years old, is hesitating because one stupid little bitch is confusing you-"

"She's not a stupid bitch."

Tae looks at Jungkook in surprise when he comes to the target's defense. He chuckles darkly, "You did not just interrupt me and defend your target at the same time. I know you didn't."

Jungkook swallows thickly, surprised at his own words. But, he can't back out now. So, he clears his throat and sets his book down, "Just because she's a target doesn't mean you can call her a stupid bitch."

"Look," Tae says while he rubs his temples as if Jungkook is giving him a headache by just existing, "If it was that hot Mina girl we were talking about, sure, I'd cut you some slack. But _____? Really? What about her makes you hesitate?" 

"I don't know," Jungkook chokes out. 

Tae's eyes squint as he watches Jungkook closely, "You make no sense. Your life is on the line, JK. Get the hit done...please."

Jungkook lies down, turning so that Tae can't see his face, "I'm going to get it done."

_____________________

The next morning, you're woken up by a loud knocking sound. 

You sit up and rub your eyes, blinking in confusion as you look around your room. 

The knocking sounds again and you realize it's coming from outside your room. 

"Huh?" 

You stumble out of bed, grabbing your starfish plushie and plodding your way to the front door. You open it without looking out the peephole, assuming it would be Mina. 

When you see Jungkook standing there, your heart leaps to your throat. 

The second the door opens and Jungkook sees you, he feels his heart pinch in his chest. Your hair is a mess, in your face and sticking out every which way. You're still in your pajamas if the long tattered t-shirt that goes to your knees is anything to go by. At first, your eyes were squinty as you looked him up and down, then they widen when you realize it's him. 

You let out a tiny gasp and clutch the starfish plushie you're holding to your chest.

Jungkook swallows thickly, "Uhm, hi. I'm sorry, did I wake you up?" 

You shake your head, unable to form any words. 

Jungkook's face relaxes and he lets out a little laugh, "Ok, good. I wanted to take you somewhere today if you want to?"

You stare at him for a second, Mina's words replaying in your head. 

Jungkook starts to shift his weight, wondering why you're just staring at him and not saying anything. He's just about to take back what he said and say he'll come back another day, but then you nod, "Uh, y-yes. I'd l-like that."

"Ah, cool," Jungkook sighs in relief, "Well, I'll let you get dressed. I'll be downstairs when you're ready."

You nod, willing your cheeks not to turn red as you close the door and lean your back against it for a moment. 

Once your brain catches up with the rest of you, you head to your room to get dressed. You grab a short white skirt from your closet and pull it on quickly, then you snatch a baby blue sweater and put it on. 

After pulling on a pair of white socks, you're about to run out to put on your shoes when Mina's words pass through your brain when you see the make-up on your bathroom counter. 

"Jungkook would fall head over heels for you if you did."

"Boys like it when girls try to get fancy for them."

You pout at the make-up for a second, trying to decide if you want to put it on or not. You eventually settle for grabbing the hairbrush and running it through your hair a few times before pulling it into a high ponytail and leaving the make-up where it is. 

You smile at your reflection and turn to hurry and get your shoes. 

-

Jungkook looks at a text from Taehyung as he waits for you downstairs. 

I hope you're getting it done. 

He sighs and puts the phone back in his pocket, then he looks up when he hears the sound of someone coming down the stairs.

You're running down the steps, your hair bouncing up and down and the smile on your lips lighting up your whole face. 

Jungkook swallows thickly when you stop in front of him, a small giggle leaving your mouth at the distant look on his face. 

She remembered to brush her hair today...

That's the only thought that Jungkook can process at the moment. 

Then he notices that you have small dark circles under your eyes, causing him to frown. But he covers it up a second later and gestures towards the black car in the parking lot. 

"Oh!" You exclaim when you realize he's going to drive you somewhere, "Where a-are we g-going?"

"It's a surprise," Jungkook mumbles, then he turns and heads for the car. 

You go to the passenger's side and climb in, buckling up as Jungkook starts the car. 

"I d-didn't know you h-had a car," You say with a laugh as Jungkook pulls out of the parking spot. 

He sends you a tightlipped smile, "There's a lot you don't know about me."

That makes you curious. 

You turn to him, "Ok, w-what's your favorite c-color?"

"What?" 

"Your f-favorite color."

"Uh, why?" Jungkook asks uncertainly. 

You look out the front window, "I d-don't know. I always a-ask people that."

"Is it that important?"

"It is t-to me."

"Ah, ok well...I guess my favorite color is red," Jungkook says, keeping his eyes on the road even though he has a sudden urge to turn and look at you, "What about you?"

"I l-love yellow."

Jungkook finds himself smiling softly, then he wipes the smile from his face and clears his throat, "And why is that?"

"I d-don't know. It just m-makes me happy," You say dreamily, looking out the passenger window now, your chin in your hand, "Why d-do you like r-red?"

"I'm not sure. I guess I associate the color with passion and doing the things you love," Jungkook muses as he takes a right turn. 

You turn and look at him, watching him closely for a minute before you whisper, "And? A-Are you doing w-what you love?"

Jungkook swallows and glances at you before fixing his eyes on the road again, "No, no I'm not."

You're about to ask him why, but the look on his face makes you hesitate. He looks upset, so you decide to leave it at that. 

"Ok, w-what's your f-favorite food?" You ask instead. 

That gets a laugh out of Jungkook as he gets into the left lane, turning onto the highway. 

"I feel like you're interrogating me," He chuckles. 

You laugh, a sound that makes Jungkook's chest feel warm. 

"W-Well? Do you h-have a favorite?"

Jungkook smiles and shakes his head, "You're not gonna stop until you know all about me, are you?"

You send him a toothy grin and shake your head, "N-Nope!"

Jungkook sighs, "Well, I don't have a favorite. Honestly, I like anything with flour in it. I like pizza, noodles, churros." 

You laugh and Jungkook finds himself fighting another smile, "Ok, well what about you, ___?"

You shrug, causing Jungkook to protest. 

"Nuh uh! You have to answer the questions too, missy. You can't just ask me and not have to say anything yourself!"

You laugh again, reaching a hand up to cover your mouth, "But I d-don't have a f-favorite."

"Well, do you like salty, spicy, or sweet the most?" Jungkook insists. 

"Sweet!" You shout, making his chest tight with an emotion he doesn't understand as he laughs, "Well, ok then."

A few minutes later, Jungkook pulls into a parking lot where there are a lot of cars. 

You hop out of the car and look around in confusion, "W-Where are we?" 

"The train station," Jungkook says simply, "We need to take a train to get there."

"Ohh, w-wow," You whisper in awe as you follow Jungkook inside the station, "I've n-never been on a t-train before." 

"Really?" Jungkook looks at you in surprise. 

You nod, "Mmhm." 

You continue to follow behind Jungkook as he moves through the station. 

He goes up to a little window and purchases two tickets, then he turns to you, "Our train leaves in ten minutes, we need to hurry." 

Jungkook turns and starts walking briskly through the crowds of people, making you almost have to jog to keep up with him. 

"J-Jungkook, w-wait up!" 

But it's so loud in the station that he doesn't hear you. He's almost out of your sight. 

The amount of people crowding around is making your heart beat faster as you start to hyperventilate. 

You can't see Jungkook anymore. He's gone. He's gone. He's left you all alone. 

"J-Jungkook?" You shout, getting a few judging looks from the people around you. 

You turn in a circle, now completely lost. 

You don't even know where the entrance is anymore, let alone where your train is. 

You're about to start crying when someone touches your arm. 

"Hey, sweetie. You all right?"

You turn to see a young man that looks to be about your age smiling down at you. Your heart slows down considerably to see a friendly face, even though you've never met him in your life. 

"I'm l-lost," You say with a shaky voice. 

The man nods sympathetically, "I could tell. What train are you supposed to be on?" 

"I'm n-not sure, m-my friend has th-the tickets."

"Ah, I see. And where did your friend go?" He asks kindly. 

"I d-don't know. I lost h-him."

The young man nods again, "Well, I'll help you find him. Come with me," Then he takes your arm gently and leads you through the crowd of people. 

"Oh, th-thank you," You say shyly, relieved someone has offered to help you.

"It isn't a problem at all, hun." 

When the man leads you to a train with people getting on, you look around in confusion. 

Where is Jungkook?

"Uhm," You aren't sure what to say to the man as he starts pulling you towards the open doors of the train. 

"I'm sure he's on this train," The stranger says when he sees you hesitating. 

There's something in your tummy telling you not to follow him, but he's been so kind...

You decide to look for Jungkook yourself, so you try to pull away from the man, but he holds onto your arm tighter. 

"E-Excuse me, I'm just g-going to go this w-way," You tell him with a smile as you point in a different direction.

"No, I'm sure he's on this train-"

"It's o-okay, th-thank you-"

"Look, sweetie. You need to trust me." 

"Uhm, p-please don't c-call me that," You try to pull away from him again. 

The man holds on tighter and a desperate look comes over his face, "Please, ____. Listen to me-"

"H-How do you know m-my name?" Alarm bells go off in your head as you try once more to pull away from him. 

The man lets go of your arm to grab both your shoulders and shake you a little, "He's leading you away. He's going to ki-"

"____?"

You both turn to see Jungkook heading towards you. 

You step away from the stranger just as he pulls away from you and runs in a different direction. 

Jungkook walks up to you, his brows furrowed, "____, where on earth were you? And who was that guy?" 

"I g-got lost. That man s-said he would h-help me," You say tearfully, moving so that you're next to Jungkook. 

Jungkook sighs, "You can't just trust anyone ____."

He takes your shoulders and gently turns you to look him straight in the eyes, "Promise me you won't trust anyone. No one."

Your brows furrow but you nod anyway, "Ok, I p-promise."

"Good, now we have to go, our train leaves in two minutes."

Jungkook turns to hurry to your train, but stops in his tracks when he feels a small hand grasp his. 

He turns to see you holding onto his hand, your huge eyes looking up at him. 

"What are you doing?" He asks, his voice shaking a little. 

"I'm s-scared to g-get lost again," You whisper. 

Jungkook swallows thickly, then you feel him squeeze your hand and hold it tightly as he pulls you through the station to the train that's just about to depart. 

-

You and Jungkook don't talk much during the ride, Jungkook mostly looking out the window and fiddling with his fingers, occasionally looking at his phone, only to roll his eyes and put it back in his pocket. 

You keep thinking about what that strange man said. 

"He's leading you away. He's going to ki-"

Who? Who was leading you away? 

Jungkook?

You look over at him, watching as he looks out at the trees flying past the windows. 

Then you shake your head, Jungkook wouldn't ever do anything bad to you. 

An hour later, the train stops and after the location is announced through the speakers, Jungkook stands up and forces a smile onto his face. 

"We're here."

You get up and follow him off the train, squinting in the sunlight. 

Jungkook leads you out of the station and hails a taxi. 

He says something to the driver that you don't hear, then he opens the back door for you and you climb in. 

Jungkook slides in next to you. 

"W-Where are we g-going?" You ask quietly, still feeling a bit awkward after the train ride. 

"You'll see," Jungkook says, and that's all you get. 

Fifteen minutes later, the taxi driver pulls over and Jungkook thanks him as he opens the door and climbs out. You step out of the taxi and gasp when you see the ocean sparkling in the sunlight. 

"Oh," You breathe, shutting the car door behind you. 

You follow Jungkook over to a little area where there is sand and rocks. 

Then you break into a run, making your way to the water. 

Jungkook watches as you start taking off your chunky tennis shoes and pulling off your socks. You tuck your socks into your shoes and go straight for the waves coming up on the sand. 

The second the cold water touches your toes, you squeal and jump back, laughing and turning to Jungkook. 

"It's c-cold!" You shriek in delight. 

Jungkook walks up to the edge of the waves, not making a move to remove his shoes, so you pout at him and point at his feet, "Take off y-your shoes, s-silly!"

Jungkook shakes his head, "No, thanks."

You shrug, then you turn and run into the water until it's up to your knees, then you shriek again and run back, laughing your head off. 

Jungkook purses his lips as he watches you run in and out of the water. 

Then he calls out to you when you run out of the water for the hundredth time, "You act like you've never seen water before!" 

You smile at him, "I n-never been to the o-ocean!"

After an hour has passed and you're tired of playing in the water, you walk up to Jungkook, who's sitting on a big rock. 

"Where a-are all the p-people?" You ask curiously. 

Jungkook flips his hair back with his hand and looks at you, "This is a more secluded spot. People prefer to be where there aren't many rocks and stuff."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Jungkook looks out at the water, "Are you having fun?"

A smile breaks out on your face and you nod happily, "Y-Yes! Thank y-you for taking m-me here."

"Of course." 

A moment of silence passes, then Jungkook looks over at you, "Can I show you something?"

"S-Sure."

Jungkook leads you over to a bunch of rocks that lead up to a cliff. 

He starts to climb them and you feel your stomach flip over with anxiety.

Jungkook turns to look at you when he senses that you're not behind him.

"What's wrong?" He asks. 

"I'm s-scared of h-heights," You say in embarrassment. 

Jungkook laughs, making you pout. 

He stops laughing and climbs down to stand next to you, "It really isn't that high or steep, ____. I'll help you, come on," He holds his hand out to you and you take it cautiously. 

Jungkook starts going up the rocks again, keeping your hand in his, which causes your cheeks to burst into flames. 

Jungkook himself is fighting the weird feeling in his chest when he feels your sweaty hand holding tightly to his own. 

"We're almost there."

A minute later, you've made it to the top. 

A few feet away to the right, there's a drop-off that's much higher than where you just climbed up, a straight drop down to the ocean below. 

Behind you is a bunch of grass and a pathway leading down the hill to where you just were. 

"H-Hey!" You exclaim when you realize something, "We d-didn't have t-to climb that!" You point at the path and Jungkook shrugs while chuckling. 

"Don't even say you didn't enjoy it. It was exciting!"

You roll your eyes playfully and walk over to the edge to look over, watching the waves crash around. 

"Careful," Jungkook warns, "Don't fall."

"I w-won't," You step back and walk over to sit on the ground next to where Jungkook is standing. 

You pat the ground next to you and Jungkook takes a seat. 

You two sit there for a long time, just enjoying the scenery. 

"Let's c-continue," You eventually say, making Jungkook laugh. 

"Continue what?"

You look at him seriously, "W-What is your favorite a-animal?" 

Jungkook gives you a half smile and turns to look out across the ocean. 

"Uhm, I'm not sure."

You sit there in silence for a minute, then Jungkook lays back on the grass and sighs, "Bunnies are pretty cute." 

"Th-That's my f-favorite!" You exclaim. 

Jungkook looks over at you as you lie down next to him, "Really?"

"Y-Yeah!"

"Weird."

"W-Well, now y-you have to a-ask me a q-question."

Jungkook looks at the clouds, his mind racing. 

"What's the worst thing you've ever done?"

You look over at him to see if he's serious, and see that he looks over at you at the same time, his face far from joking. 

"Uhm, one t-time I didn't t-take my medicine for a f-few days...I l-lied to the doctor th-that I took it."

Jungkook looks at you, his brows furrowed. 

"That's it? That's the worst thing you've ever done?"

You turn to look at the clouds and think as hard as you can, "Oh, o-one time I accidentally th-threw out a p-picture that one of m-my students d-drew for me."

Jungkook sees a little tear slip down your cheek at your words. He stares at you in disbelief. 

"And o-once I didn't listen to m-my mom wh-when she told me to take our d-dog out p-potty. He peed on th-the floor."

"Seriously?" Jungkook asks as he sits up on one elbow. 

"I know, I'm h-horrible," You say as you wipe the tears from your cheek and eyes.

Jungkook bites back a laugh, "You're not horrible."

"What a-about you? What's th-the worst thing y-you've ever done?"

Jungkook bites his lip and lays back down, "I'm an angel, I've never done wrong."

"L-Liar," You pout, crossing your arms. 

"What do you think is the worst thing I've ever done?" He asks you seriously. 

You put a finger to your chin, "Hmm, l-let me think."

A minute later, you speak up again, "I th-think you've p-peer pressured someone t-to do something. But y-you regretted it l-later."

Jungkook looks at you with wide eyes, then he swallows thickly and turns away again, "You're wrong."

Except you weren't. 

Jungkook isn't going to tell you that though. 

You can get his favorite color and food and animal out of him, but you'll never know him for who he really is. 

"Then, w-what is it?"

"Never mind, it was a stupid question. You ask one now."

"Ok...what d-do you love?"

The silence that follows is deafening. 

Then a loud ringing sounds and you both jump. 

Jungkook grabs his phone out of his pocket and sighs when he sees Taehyung's name across the screen. 

"Sorry, I have to answer this." 

"Go ah-head."

Jungkook stands up and moves to the side before answering it, "What do you want?" He growls into the phone. 

"Did you do it?"

"I fucking swear, Taehyung. If you don't shut the fuck up and let me do my job I'm going to kill you next," Jungkook whispers fiercely. 

"Whatever. Just get it done."

Before Jungkook can curse him out some more, Tae hangs up, making Jungkook growl again in annoyance. 

Then Jungkook turns to see you standing by the edge, looking out over the water. 

He swallows the lump in his throat, Tae's voice finding it's way to his mind as it whispers, Just do it, push her off...

Quick and easy.

He walks over, his hands out and ready to get this hit over with. 

He notices his hands shaking uncontrollably.

Then he decides against it and reaches into the back of his pants, pulling out a small gun. 

One shot and you're done, Jungkook. 

You're done. 

"J-Jungkook..."

He hides the gun behind his back, but you don't even turn around. You just keep looking out at the water, your arms crossed over your chest. 

"I h-hope one day, th-that you f-find what you love. I hope y-you can do wh-what you love," You turn and smile at him softly, your hair blowing in the gentle wind as you whisper, "I hope you c-can live for w-what you love."

Jungkook sucks in a breath as the image of a woman appears next to you at your words. 

"Live for me and do what you love, please. Whatever happens, Jungkook, don't let them change you..."

Jungkook's lip trembles at the woman's words, the ones he could never hear before. 

"Don't let them ruin you."

You watch Jungkook as he seems to have some kind of internal struggle, then he walks close to the edge and throws something as far as he can as a broken scream leaves his throat. 

All you see is a small black object fall into the ocean.

When you turn to Jungkook, he's on his knees, his head hanging as he breathes shakily. 

You say nothing. 

After a minute, Jungkook looks up at you, and you feel your heart break at the agony in his eyes, "____," He whispers. 

"Y-Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

_________________________________

a:n im back :)

[winterdrag0n]

Treasure - Part 17 (Bucky's Finale)

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader; Steve x Fem!Reader

Chapter Warning: A little angst but a lot of fluff! (Coz Bucky deserves it)

18+ Only! The series contains other trigger warnings such as mention of rape and unhealthy coping mecanism. Please DO NOT consume this content if you’re uncomfortable!

Word Count: 4K

[Treasure Masterlist]

XVII.II. Bucky and You: Treasure

Being friends with Steve Rogers does come with a lot of wonderful perks; free rides to the hospital— he’s been dating Dr. Helen Cho while Y/n does quarterly check ups, amazing peanut butter sandwiches that he sometimes drops at her place— just because he’s a wonderful person, free healthcare consultation in wee hours— it wasn’t her fault that weird bumps appear on her arms after she helped Gretta gardening, and a warm welcome to his inner circle. This last one is the best perk, one that does a lot of good for her.

This past one year, Y/n has gotten closer with Steve’s friends. It started with a simple brunch with Sam on Friday, about a month after James’ departure to Okinawa, when he needed someone to lean an ear— he’d missed Riley so much because he’d been busy with work overseas. The following month, also on Friday, they went to the same restaurant for a brunch but joined by Steve and Natasha. Nat spent most of the time talking about a guy she met at work— Clint Barton— who was ‘nobody, I don’t care, I don’t even notice him, anyhow…’ and the following month on Friday, she brought that guy to be introduced as “This is Clint, the guy I’ve been seeing.”

Everyone is busy with their life but somehow the Friday brunch has been the only constant. It’s become their thing that Y/n looks forward to. One Friday three months ago, Steve officially brought Dr. Helen Cho and he, too, introduced her as “This is Helen, um— she’s my girlfriend,” while blushing.

Today, Sam breaks an important piece of news. Natasha and Y/n jump from their seats and sandwich-hugs Sam for it.

“I’m so happy for you, Sam! And the ring is so beautiful!” Helen comments, her beautiful eyes sparkling.

“Thanks Helen. Apparently your boyfriend helped Riley pick the ring.” Sam eyes at Steve who’s beaming from ear to ear.

“Well, it was purely Riley’s good taste. I was only there for moral support,” Steve says earnestly.

“Okay, let’s talk about the wedding. Big? Small? Fall wedding? Winter?” Natasha gets excited but she stops when Steve’s phone rings on the table.

They agreed a long time ago that the monthly Friday Brunch has no-phone-on-the table policy however Steve was exempted due to his profession.

“Sorry.” His voice sounds apologetic. “I’ll step away for a while and let you guys…” He smiles at their excited faces.

“So…?” Natasha continues.

“So… Riley wants a small wedding. I want a fall wedding. So we have about four months to plan for the October wedding, I guess. It’s gonna be a nightmare to find a venue at such short notice,” Sam says.

“I know a perfect place,”Natasha suggests.

Sam, Y/n and Helen look at her intensely, waiting for her to continue. “The Rogers’ backyard. It’s beautiful!”

“Oh my god, yes!” Helen shrieks. “I’ve always thought so too!”

“Yeah,” Y/n agrees. “Sarah used to throw a lot of parties there. Remember Steve’s birthday bash? A wedding at Steve’s backyard would be so romantic!”

Sam’s eyes sparkle as if a light bulb actually turns on over his head. “That’s a really good idea! Let me ask him later.”

“Great. Now, guest list. How many people are we looking at?” Nat taps her fingers.

“Again, we want a small wedding. Riley’s family, my family, you guys, two of my good friends from college, Bucky, Riley’s three best friends and their partner…” Sam continues to list the guests while Natasha typing them on her phone but Y/n’s mind is stuck at one name.

Bucky.

She hasn’t met him for a year. He never texted and Steve rarely talked about him in front of her. She only knows that he came home last Christmas to Colorado— where his families were and Steve flew there to spend time with him. Apart from that, it seems like he’s out of her life, for good.

“You okay?” Helen’s voice startles her, but apparently she wasn’t talking to her, but to Steve.

Steve looks worried and says gingerly, “It was, um— Bucky’s mom.”

Y/n can feel her heart sink and before she can even ask Steve what it was about, he’s already blurting out, “He was in an accident during a mission, nothing serious, but he had a concussion. All tests came back fine and he’s resting in the hospital. Apparently he’s been in Jersey since last week. Mrs B— his Mom called me because Bucky… he mumbled my name.”

“Oh, Barnes…” Nat murmurs. “God, I hope he will be okay. Go, Steve, don’t worry about us.”

“Yes, babe, I’ll drive you now.” Helen stands up and her hand fumbling in her bag.

“Don’t worry, Helen. We’ll pick up the tab,” Sam assures her, to which she thanks him silently.

“Ok,” Steve agrees. “One other thing though… There’s one more name he called out.” Then Steve looks at Y/n, his blue eyes in agony. “Do you… Are you fine to meet him?”

She clenches her jaw because she doesn’t know the answer. It’s been a year since she said goodbye to him and she always thought it was a perfect ending for her— for them. It doesn’t mean she never thinks about him. She does, plenty of times and she knows one day they’ll meet again, but seeing him unconscious in the hospital is not what she thought it would be.

“Y/n? It’s okay if you—” Steve says.

“I’m okay. Yeah, I want to.” She gives him a pained smile.

❀☀☂☃

Winnifred is a paradox. In that petit figure, she holds such a humongous strength and calm. Y/n can’t hold her tears seeing Bucky laying on the hospital bed with tubes attached to him. She knows all tests came back fine but still, it’s agonizing. Winnifred smiles at her and says, “You must be Y/n. Why don’t we let Steve take his time? Walk with me to the vending machine, will you?”

Steve sits down by the bed when they leave the hospital room. Winnifred walks a couple of steps ahead of Y/n as they walk to the nearest vending machine.

“Do you want anything, dear?” Winnifred offers her.

She almost shakes her head but then she sees Oreos and somehow it brings a smile on her face. “Oreo is fine.”

Winnifred inserts some coins and chooses the Oreo, hands it to her and asks her to sit with her on the bench. “Don’t worry, James is fine. I know it.” She taps on her shoulder gently.

She plays with the plastic edge of the Oreo and nods her head lightly.

“She told me a lot about you, when he came home last Christmas,” Winnifred says with a fond look.

“What did he talk about?” Her voice is almost confused.

“He showed his nephew and niece your book. Jack, the three years old, loved it so much and James bragged to him that he knew the author. He spoke fondly about you. And separately he told me that he brought you camping. We used to do that with George— James’ Father.”

Y/n smiles at that memory. “Yeah, it was such a beautiful time in the mountains.” She looks down and sees the Oreo. “James… He— he’s always so sweet.”

He ate the cream part of the Oreo so she wouldn’t feel guilty for wasting food.

How she wishes she could share this Oreo with him, just like those nights in the wild, and the days that happened way in the past. But he was the one who said goodbye. And even now Steve has someone else, James has never reached out to her.

“Be patient with James, sweetie. Give him some time. He… He could be stubborn sometimes, wanting to do what’s best for everyone else, but himself.”

She places her hand at Y/n’s shoulder. “There are times when even a well-oiled machine, without proper maintenance, will break down. James forgot that he needed that oil, he needed the little things that matter, that would make the machine work again. When we hug people we love before leaving for work, or kiss ‘em hello when coming home. Those little things," she says patiently. “James told me, he had this habit of eating only the cream part of the Oreos.” She nods at Y/n’s hand, peeling the cookie away from the cream.

“It’s the little things… that really makes us feel loved.”

Steve comes out from the room and waves at them. Winnifred wraps her arms around Y/n’s shoulder and gestures to her to go. She looks at her eyes and smiles genuinely, “Thank you Mrs. Barnes. I appreciate you telling me about James.”

“The pleasure is mine, dear.”

And then she walks past Steve and into the room.

Vital monitor is beeping beside James’ bed, oxygen is attached to him and he looks very peaceful. She walks closer to him and now his face looks clearer, lashes rest still on his cheeks, lips dry, mouth slightly open and chest rising and falling in steady rhythm.

Tears well up in her eyes again. She’s overwhelmed by emotions, not because James is unconscious— she believes his mother’s intuition, but because she wanted to see him for so long and now she sees him, she can’t hug him and tells him how much she misses him.

Although she tries to bury it so deep, the love that she has for the man in front of her is just too strong to ignore, and it’s already rooted in her heart, she has no other way but to accept it.

She will always love James Buchanan Barnes, no matter what. No matter how many times she said goodbye in her dreams.

She wants to tell him that, hoping he’d open his eyes and say it back to her.

But, she can’t help feeling hopeless and small, remembering how one year ago, James made it clear that it was goodbye.

A lot can happen in a year. And James never looked for her. Does he not want to look for her? Because she’s so sure he could if he wanted to.

Or maybe Winnifred is right, maybe he needs time.

The question is… will she wait? And for how long? And what if he breaks her heart again?

“I miss you…” her voice breaks.

She leans into the bed, brushes her lips to the warmth of James’ forehead, wishing he would open his eyes and say something to her, but he doesn’t.

So she leaves, before she gets her heart broken again.

❀☀☂☃

The weather is perfect for a Fall wedding and The Rogers’ backyard always has this magic to create a romantic ambiance.

The swimming pool was long gone, the backyard is now a spacious and beautiful landscape with decorative fairy lights hanging in the trees. Romantic songs complete the feelings of joy and warmth.

Vows are exchanged, kisses are shared, happy tears are shed. Everyone agrees this is the wedding of the century.

“Hey,” A familiar yet distant voice calls beside her.

He looks so handsome in a suit, black tie and black blazer over a grey dress shirt. Hair a little too long swept to the back, eyes just as blue as she remembers, a smile that could send her right down a memory lane.

“Hey, James.” She smiles at him, fondly and tenderly.

“Can I?” He opens his arms.

“Of course.” And she lets him hug her. He buries his face a little too close to her neck, his breath sends shivers down her spine and now he’s leaving scents all over her body.

And now she’s going to smell like him— it’s gonna ruin her.

“How have you been?” She breaks the hug.

“Good. You?” James’ face blushes a little, which is questionable for her.

“I’m good too.”

“You came to me, I mean… My mom said you came, to the hospital, when I was—”

“Yeah… yeah…” She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, shifting her body awkwardly.

“Thank you,” he says.

“What for?”

“For coming to see me.”

“No, don’t mention it.” She smiles faintly. “If the situation was reversed, you’d do the same.”

He stares at her for a moment, that look that feels so familiar, that used to— still is making her lose her balance.

“You, um— wanna dance?” James nods to the dance floor. Wonderful Tonight is played and she nods.

James takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor. Her heart beats erratically as he pulls her body close to his, metal arm around her waist and his good hand holding her hands, fingers touching, sending electric to her neurons.

“What, um— what’s your— any new book coming? My nephew loves all your books,” James starts a conversation, voice low, mouth close to her ear.

“Yeah?” She relaxes.

“Yeah. I gave him the ones you signed.”

“I can sign for him. Jack, isn’t it?”

“Yes. You know?”

“Your mom told me.”

“Oh, wonder what else she told you.” He grins, looking at her.

“Not much. Anyway, I have a new one coming next week. I’ll sign and send it to Jack,” she offers.

“You shouldn’t have—”

“That’s fine. I’ll sign a lot of books anyway, might as well…”

“Book tour?”

“Yeah, I’m leaving for Maine the day after tomorrow, actually.”

“Do you need hiking trails recommendations? Beehive trail at Acadia is one of the best,” he chuckles.

She laughs with him. “Thanks, James. I think I’m gonna skip this time. It’s too cold over there.”

He twirls her and catches her waist with his metal arms right at the chorus, the lyric is sung ‘… and I say yes, you look wonderful tonight.’ She lands a little closer than before and now their faces are barely inch apart. He looks at her yearningly, and he murmurs, “You look so—”

“So, this book,” she interjects, moving her body a little further from him. “I bet, will be Jack’s favourite.”

“Oh?” James furrows his eyebrows. “And why is that?”

“You’ll see.” She grins.

“Oh, come on. What’s that supposed to mean?” James tilts his head playfully.

“Let’s just say, he’d love this new character I created. He’s a cat, looks a bit grumpy but his heart is kind, and he’s teaching the kids to share.”

“He sounds wonderful,” Bucky comments.

“He is. He is wonderful.” She looks at the blue eyes that have been gazing at her the whole night and lets her drown in them once more.

They spend the night dancing, talking and staying friendly, without getting too intimate. James leaves the party a little earlier than the rest and Y/n comes home alone to her house, packing her suitcase to leave for Maine.

❀☀☂☃

“I gotta tell you, at first I thought the cat’s a weird character, but the name is catching on and I kinda love him now,” Darcy comments, pointing her phone to the banner, where Y/n’s new book title written with comic sans font, Be Like Bucky, Sharing the Cookie.

“Yeah, the kids love him too.” She smiles fondly at Darcy and then continues signing the books. “What’s your name?” she asks a little boy in front of her who opens the book.

“Luke,” he says cheerfully. “I love Bucky!”

“Oh yeah?” She signs the book with Luke’s name on it and asks him, “Why is that?”

“His whiskers are silly,” he chuckles. “And he eats a lot of cookie creams. I wish I could eat a lot of cookie creams too, but my sister loves the creams so I let her eat the creams.

“Aw, you’re such a kind boy. You’re just like Bucky the cat.” She closes the book and hands it back to Luke with the warmest smile.

The best part of her job, she thinks, is the book tour. She gets to interact with the children and hear their thoughts about her creations, and how she influences their lives to be better.

“Well… I’m a cat now…” His voice startles her.

He comes from behind the banner, the other side of the bookstore. She turns her head and looks at him with an adoring look.

“A grumpy one…” he adds and squints his eyes. “Hmm… I wonder why he became grumpy…”

She tilts her head to him. “No reasons… just whimsical…”

“Are you sure? I think I’d know. Since, you know… I am Bucky.” He grins.

She chuckles, “Ok then. Tell me Bucky, why are you grumpy?”

He lets out a long sigh. “Because I’m hungry, and I want the author to buy me lunch. Take it as a copyright payment.”

She rolls her eyes. “That’s so lame. Just tell me if you wanted to ask me out—“

“Yes, I want to ask you out.” He gazes at her, firm and calm at the same time.

She smiles, awkwardly yet brightly. “I’ll be done in fifteen minutes.”

❀☀☂☃

They have their late lunch at a family bistro that sells the best clam chowder in town and Bucky is ordering a second bowl, while Y/n devours the lobster roll that she described as really, really, really good.

Bucky asks her about the inspiration behind her new book and she openly tells him that she holds a special place in her heart for their Oreo sharing story. Bucky gives her a placid smile and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear while casually mentioning about his new cat that he named Alpine. They just keep telling stories to one another, trying to fill in the gap during the time spent apart— a wasted time indeed.

When Bucky comes back from the restroom, he brings back a piece of paper and a handful of crayons. “They had these in the kids’ section.”

She chuckles, “What do you want me to draw?”

“Well, Alpine came true. Should we draw the things that we want then?”

“And what is that? What do you want, Bucky?” She tilts her head, waiting patiently for his answer.

Bucky lets out a long and soft relieved sigh. He smiles faintly and says, “I want this. Just this, you and me.”

She can feel her heart beating faster, the butterfly in her stomach comes back and she can’t help smiling. She takes one crayon and starts drawing.

“This is you…” she describes as she draws. “And this is Alpine…”

“Oh, she’s much fatter than that,” he comments.

She laughs, “Oh I really wanna meet her now.”

“She’d love you.” He gazes at her affectionately.

“And this is me,” she continues. Bucky takes another crayon and links their hands together on the paper. She just smiles at that.

Bucky downs his iced coke and says with a gentle tone, “How are you, really?”

Somehow that brings her back to the Rocky mountains, Bucky always makes sure he’s checking on her.

“I’m okay, James… Kept myself busy. With the book, with um— trying to move on.”

“From… me?” Bucky looks at her in agony.

She shrugs. “Yeah.”

“Why though? Why should we move on?” Bucky traces his fingers on the rim of his glass.

“Well, I don’t know about you, James, but the man I fell in love with made it clear he didn't want to be with me.”

“Well, that man was an idiot. And he had been living his life in regret.” He looks at her but she’s trying to evade his eyes.

“The incident that got me into a coma… I was shot, I lost a lot of blood. I ran for a mile to come back to the base, and I swear to god, I almost collapsed so many times… But there was one thing that got me moving, one face that I wanted to see again, so badly. I thought… I wanted to see you again— to see you one last time. But I realized, I didn’t want it to be one last time, Y/n… I want to see you everyday. Each day I’m breathing and alive.”

She doesn’t realize she’s crying when Bucky brushes his thumb on her cheek. She stares into the depth of the blue in his eyes, baring his soul open, asking for not a second chance, but a third chance. An evidence that no matter how hard they tried to go separate ways, they always found a way back to each other.

“I will spend the rest of my life, taking my time, slowly and patiently showing you how much I treasure you.” Bucky holds both of her hands and pulls them into the centre of his chest. “If you let me…”

She swallows a lump in her throat and chokes, “I’ve never—“ and regulates her breathing, before she finally continues, “I’ve never moved on. Never from you. I just couldn’t.”

And then Bucky leans in, cups her cheek gently and closes the gap between them— closes the lonely two years without one another, mends the heartbreaks, eases the worries and lets the kiss speak the emotions that words aren’t able to say. For the first time, Bucky will let him get what he really wants, and to kiss her, hold her in his arms and just live his life with her. A treasure that he didn’t know he’s had.

“I’m sorry it took so long…” Bucky says apologetically once he breaks the kiss.

She shakes her head gently, “I’d wait. I know you needed time.”

“God, what did I do to deserve you?” His voice somber, his hand reaches to the nape of her neck and pulls her in, kissing her again. “God, I love you… So… much.”

The lump in her throat chokes her again, it feels bittersweet to hear it again. This time, she’ll let him own it. “I know, James. I love you too. Always have and always will.”

❀☀☂☃

It’s another Friday Brunch with the gank, and after months of trying to get everyone together, this time it’s finally a full team. Nat and Clint came fashionably late, Steve and Helen are still dressing in scrubs because they have to get back to the Hospital afterwards, Sam and Riley ordered champagne to celebrate 6 months being married and Bucky and Y/n split a key lime pie.

Riley clings a dessert spoon to his champagne flute and says, “I would like to let my husband say something.” And then he kisses Sam swiftly.

“Thanks babe.” He gives him a sweet smile and raises his own flute. “In this beautiful morning, can I just say I’m so thankful to be here with all of you?”

Nat and Y/n say “aww…” in unison.

“We’ve come a long way, each and every one of us. I know all of your stories and I’m so proud of you guys to be here today, and did I mention— thankful?”

“Yes, you said it twice, bird brain,” Bucky comments.

Sam rolls his eyes to that. “You guys are so lucky to have found one another,” Sam continues. “One of my good friends told me, there’s a blank space between memories and the truth, and you have to make sure that you utilize that space, to remember each memory, so it doesn’t become an illusion.” Sam gazes to Y/n and gives her a reassuring smile. “Here’s to memories… To our treasure.”

“Cheers!” And everyone raises their glass. She smiles back at Sam, feeling thankful.

“Oh and Bucky, aren’t you gonna share that pie to everyone, since… you know… you like to share?” Steve chuckles.

Sam laughs the loudest. “Geez, Rogers! That joke never gets old!”

Bucky squints his eyes unamused. “This is your fault,” he sighs to Y/n.

“Oh, come on. Let them have their fun. You know for me… you’ll always be… James Buchanan Barnes,” she smirks. And that seals it, he leans in for a kiss. Because there will never be a time when she calls him James Buchanan Barnes without a kiss that follows.

[Epilogue]

A/N: I'm sorry I've been MIA!! (I was knocked out badly after the third vaccine and then I got sick, but now all good!) Hope you like the ending with Bucky! Please do comment, show emotions and give me feedback, it'll mean a lot to me. :) It helps me grow as writer and keeps me motivated. And you know what will make Bucky happy? A reblog! (yeah!)

Special thank you for @supercalifragilistic-elley who inspired me to write this Bucky's ending. This won't happen without her! I always love the time we spent talking about our immaginary plot, babe! <3

I will post the Epilogue soon but pleaseeee bear with me, I'm dealing with a lot of things IRL now.

Do send me an ask if you have ideas/prompt for my next project. Taglist on the notes.

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK | 15 (FINAL)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It’s simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if…Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively:

“A future without you is a world without color.”

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 4k

SERIES: CHAPTER 14 | SPECIAL CHAPTER 

"You sure you don't need anything?"

You weren't sure if it was annoyance or amusement that caused you to chuckle upon hearing hesitation in your father's voice.

"I'm good, Appa." You assured him, "it's just Jeongguk. Don't worry."

You were wrong. He wasn't worried because of Jeongguk. He was worried because of you.

"Okay," your father let out a deep sigh as he tried to calm his mind. "I trust your soulmate. Have fun, love."

And just like that, the call ended.

Soulmate.

After everything that had happened, your father still believed that Jeongguk was your soulmate.

You still did too. How could you deny that fact when you could clearly see colors now?

It had been four months since your eye surgery. You didn't think it was going to be a successful, mainly because you were convinced that Jeongguk's hatred towards you was the reason why you went blind.

Apparently, it was your fault.

You knew it was reckless to drive when you were under the influence of alcohol. This wasn't just about you. This was also about the people who could have suffered because of your stupidity.

Your father was actually disappointed in you. He didn't expect you to do something like this, especially because he knew that you had a careful approach in life.

You hated being a burden. Your greatest fear was to be the reason why someone was hurting. Your father didn't understand what ticked you to break out of character, and so he asked. He asked what was wrong—causing you to break into tears.

You couldn't keep this to yourself anymore.

You told him about everything you had been going through—like how your soulmate didn't love you and how stressful being a lawyer was.

Of course your father understood, but he told you that it wasn't an excuse to put yourself and other people in danger.

There were other ways to welcome or ignore pain. You agreed since it wasn't like you planned this to happen.

Your father didn't believe in you, though. He felt like you were trying to harm yourself. This was why he called you every single day. He wanted to make sure that you weren't driving or doing things you weren't supposed to do.

He freaked out when you told him that you were going out with Jeongguk tonight. It wasn't because he hated your soulmate. Admittedly, he felt like you were lying when you told him that Jeongguk didn't love you.

That can't be right. It was obvious. Your father had met your soulmate and he saw the way Jeongguk looked and talked about you. He couldn't be wrong; the boy destined to be with you was whipped—as in madly in love with you.

His claim turned out to be true when right after your surgery; you gasped and cried so hard because finally, you could see colors.

It was too good to be true. Was this seriously happening? Was Jeongguk really in love with you?

You couldn't tell.

You used to think that seeing colors was the indication of your soulmate's love for you, but it had been months now yet Jeongguk hadn't verbally told you that he loved you.

Sure. Actions spoke louder than words. You guessed you just had to be contented with this.

The past four months felt like a dream. Jeon Jeongguk, the most stubborn and egotistical person in the world, was acting like a lovesick fool because of you.

You told yourself that you did not want to love your soulmate. You stood by this. You had been ignoring Jeongguk's attempt to 'win you over.'

(Un)fortunately, the boy just wouldn't stop.

He would send you letters written in a small sticky note every day just to tell you the sappiest thing. On the other side of the sticky note, there's an exquisite drawing of every detail about you.

You realized that it was some sort of puzzle, but you hadn't really had the chance to piece it together because you were too caught up with the words written in the sticky notes.

Note 1 Red Red is the first color in the rainbow. She is my first love, but it ended. I'm saying this because I realized that the start isn't always the end. She’s the beginning, you are my end game.

This was the first note you had received from your soulmate. It was plastered on your front door—this was also the first thing you had seen after you had been discharged from the hospital.

Note 2 Orange Orange is the color I thought I know by heart. As it turns out, I've been fooled. I have been fooled by the world, but it's okay. You helped me see.

This note was unclear to you, yet it didn't fail to make your heart feel light. You weren't aware that Jeongguk was talking about how the florist who sold him orange tulips for almost a decade, the one who fooled him.

No one could take advantage of him now, though. You helped him with this problem.

Note 3 Yellow My mom said that yellow is the prettiest color. She also said that it shines the brightest. I'm glad I didn't believe her. It wasn't bright at all. It only reminds me of the time I thought I'll lose you.

It took you long to realize what he was implying.

Yellow.

This was the color of your shirt when your car crashed. Jeongguk remembered how dark life was when you were pushing him away.

Your soulmate had sent you hundreds of letters by now. All of his notes started with colors. Out of all the things he sent you, the yellow note was what stuck to you the most.

The black world was frightening. It felt cold and lonely and Jeongguk was exactly like that. He was lonely. He suffered from a major heartbreak that was why he turned cold. He hated what Red had done to him, but he wasn't really different from his ex-girlfriend.

Jeongguk hurt you the same way Red hurt him, but your soulmate was willing to do everything to make it up to you.

Aside from the notes, you also found out that Jeongguk was the one who cooked your food each day. You got mad at Red because she failed to tell you the truth. There was even a point wherein you stopped eating the food your soulmate had prepared since you literally didn't want to do anything with him anymore.

Jeongguk was still persistent. He would always pick you up from work and then he would ask if you wanted to grab dinner with him.

You always declined his offer to take you out. Turning him down was always part of your daily routine, so you didn't know what changed this Saturday night.

Why, after four months, did you finally accept Jeongguk’s attempt to ask you out?

"Can't resist his bambi eyes, can you?" Jimin laughed on the other line. Your best friend called right after your short phone conversation with your dad. It was like everyone was interested in your business tonight.

"It's just one date, Jimin," you rolled your eyes, yet the blush in your cheeks indicated that Jimin was right.

You still couldn't resist Jeon Jeongguk.

It wasn't like you were giving into him. No. It would take more than his wide, doe eyes to melt your cold, cold heart. He hurt you after all.

But last night was different.

You were supposed to have dinner with your subordinates since it was Friday, but then you spotted Jeongguk waiting outside the building of your small law firm.

He was standing there with trembling lips. Your soulmate was freezing under the cold winter, yet he still chose to wait for you.

You see, Jeon Jeongguk was banned from entering your office. You told the securities not to let him in since he was distracting everyone at work.

Your employees just couldn't stop gushing over your soulmate to the point that they weren't able to finish their task for the day. They were always trying to get Jeongguk's attention and the most annoying part was that your soulmate didn't seem to mind—not because he was a flirt too. It was actually because he was too naïve for his own good.

So yeah. You banned him from entering the building because he was a distraction and definitely not because you were blinded by your stupid jealousy. No. Not at all.

He was your soulmate, yes, but it didn't mean you had to stay together. The only thing you two should do was to try to be casual and not hate each other.

You couldn't afford to make Jeongguk hate you. This was the only rational reason why you agreed to go out on a date with him tonight. You were just scared and guilty for letting him wait for you in the snow.

"Whatever you say," you could imagine Jimin's teasing expression despite not seeing his face. "Have fun, okay? Love you!"

"Ditto! See you soon," you pressed the end bottom of your phone as your doorbell rang.

Seven pm. You bit your lower lip, glancing at the clock. Jeongguk was right on time. He told you last night that he would be outside of your door at exactly seven in the evening.

You sighed and fixed your hair a little before opening the door.

Jeongguk practiced speaking the things he would say to you tonight in front of the mirror. He swore he prepared so hard because he didn't want to disappoint you. He felt like this was his only shot with you, unfortunately it seemed like he was destined to fuck things up with you again.

"Oh fuck," his eyes dilated upon seeing you.

You were wearing this pretty dress that accentuated your curves. You looked so expensive and exquisite that Jeongguk felt like he was out of place.

Your soulmate was wearing a thick sweater and black sweatpants. His hair was messier because of the winter wind.

"You're not dressed." This was the first thing you said to him. The scowl on your face made him think that you already regretted agreeing to spend this night with him.

He was wrong. You were only frowning because you felt embarrassed. You took your sweet time preparing for this date. You even rushed to buy a fancy dress just this morning, causing you to feel like a fool.

It was clear now that you were more excited than the man who practically begged you to go out with him.

"I-I just thought it'd be better to stay home because of the weather." The boy said sheepishly while showing you the home cooked food he had prepared for this date.

You swallowed hard.

"Come in." And then you opened the door wider for him.

Jeongguk let out a sigh of relief. At least you did not kick him out. He wouldn't know what to do if that happened. He missed your home so much. He missed Miri as well. Too bad the fury pet wasn't around.

Miri visited the Kims' mansion every Saturday. Red picked the cat earlier this day. She said Miri was the only one that could make Soobin smile. Red and Seokjin, the newlywed couple, were only allowed to visit Soobin every Saturday. They always take the little boy to a nice place with your cat Miri.

Jeongguk realized that it was a blessing in disguise that the cat wasn't around since no one was scratching the couch where you and him currently sat on.

Jeongguk's idea for this date night was to simply watch some movies while eating. He thought that this was the perfect plan, sadly it looked like you didn't share the same sentiment.

"Jeongguk," irritation was laced in your voice as you called your soulmate's name.

You were irritated for the reason that you felt like he didn't really want to be here.

Jeongguk seemed preoccupied. It was apparent when you asked him what film he wanted to watch. He simply said 'whatever you want," while staring at you blankly.

You let it pass at first, but you couldn't ignore it now that the movie had ended and it appeared like he didn't even realize.

Jeongguk was silent beside you, but he couldn't sit without fidgeting. The air was awkward. He looked awkward, like he was uncomfortable or something. He wasn't even eating his food.

"Did you like the movie? Were you scared?"

"Uh," Jeongguk was staring again. "I'm...yeah. It's pretty scary,"

"Oh." You narrowed your eyes at him. "I didn't know you were afraid of zombies."

"Yeah. I am," he wasn’t and you knew it.

You huffed, crossing your arms. He was such a liar.

"The movie that we just watched," you gritted your teeth. "Isn't about zombies, Jeongguk. It's not even a horror film. It's Toy Story 4!"

You were annoyed. Why did Jeongguk even ask to be with you when he wasn’t going to pay attention to you or to the things the two of you were supposed to do?

"I'm sorry..."

And there's it again. The insincere apology. He was always sorry, but he never changed.

"You know what? Just go home. I..." You trailed off as tears filled your eyes.

Why did you always have to make a fool of yourself because of him?

"I don't want you here."

Jeongguk's heart sank upon hearing the words that left your mouth.

"No please," he also turned pale, eyes turning wide because he wasn't expecting this date to turn out like this. What he wanted to happen was to enjoy the winter night cuddled with you as the two of you watched a romantic movie.

Jeongguk imagined watching Love 911 to give you an idea of some of the things he wanted to try with you.

"What do you mean no? It's obvious that you don't want to be here. You're not even paying attention."

"It's not like that," he avoided your gaze.

You only scoffed. Typical Jeongguk. Always telling you that you didn't get him.

"Then what is it? Why do you look uncomfortable? Why do you look like you don't want to be here—"

"I told you it's not like that!" He was staring at you using those big eyes. His thin beckoning lips protruded into a pout.

"I just!" He sighed like he found it hard to explain what he felt. "Can't concentrate on other things because all I can think about is you!”

"What—"

He didn't let you finish. Jeongguk was rambling. He was nervous. He didn't want you to get mad at him again.

"Your dress really looks so good on you and your make up is really nice. You're really pretty...and really beautiful and really sexy and I really just...really—"

"Huh." you pouted, slightly cringing because of his excessive use of the word really. "So now you're blaming the way I look?"

You were teasing him to get rid of the funny feeling in your stomach. Damn Jeongguk for confusing the hell out of you. You were supposed to be annoyed, but why were you smiling?

And why the hell was it so easy to melt into him?

"No!" Jeongguk groaned. He was getting frustrated. You seemed to always twist his words and extrapolate things.

"Look..." He closed his eyes since he couldn't bear to look at you anymore. He was scared to see the disappointment in your eyes.

"I just love you okay? Like really, really, in love with you."

Jeongguk's heartbeat doubled when you didn't speak.

Silence engulfed the whole room that he was forced to open his eyes.

His heart went even crazier. It was beating erratically.

Why were you staring at him with an agape mouth?

"What did you say?" You were no longer in the mood to fool around. Sure, you were teasing Jeongguk, but it didn't mean he could also joke about feelings and love.

It wasn't fair.

"I love you?" Jeongguk said, unsure.

He wasn't unsure of his feelings. He just didn't know if you were referring to the last words he uttered.

"You...love me?" You were still in doubt.

Jeongguk simply nodded his head; a soft smile was plastered on his lips as he scrunched his nose. You knew this look well. This was his genuine self and it only meant one thing.

He wasn't lying.

"But..." you bit the inside of your cheek. "This is the first time you told me that."

"I thought it's obvious?" Jeongguk mirrored your confused expression.

He expressed what he felt for you by singing. Jeongguk thought you understood.

You did not. The song lifted your spirit and you also found the gesture sweet, but you still didn't realize it was his way of confessing.

"I mean..." Jeongguk pouted his lips more. "Your eyes tell, right? You can see colors now."

As soon as these words escaped his mouth, Jeongguk felt like he had been hit by a truck—crushing his bones and telling him how stupid he was for crossing the street even though there were signs that told him to stop.

Signs.

The signs had been there all along.

"You love me..." Jeongguk blurted out. His realization was too sudden that he couldn't help but a cry a little.

You panicked as you asked him what was wrong.

"I wasted six months because of how stupid I am!" His answer was unclear.

"Gukkie," you put your hands on the either side of his shoulder, urging him to look at you. "You're not making sense. Speak slowly."

Jeongguk shook his head, tears still painting his cheeks. It was funny how the situation kept on turning around. Just a few breaths ago, you were the one who was on the verge of crying.

"I told you you didn't understand!" Jeongguk was still not making sense, but you decided to stay quiet and let him speak.

It looked like he needed an outlet for the reason that his emotions were overflowing.

"I left b'cause I thought...you...d-din't love me!" He sobbed and your heart cracked.

How could he think this way when all you had ever done was make him feel the love you felt for him?

Jeongguk's twisted expression told you that you had voiced out the question running inside your mind out loud.

"I called you delusional since I believed that you really are," he was bringing back the wounds that you were trying so hard to forget.

Still, you didn't stop him from speaking.

"H-How can you be sure you love me when I myself know that I am not worthy of your love?"

Jeongguk knew that he had always been mean to you. He hadn't done anything to make you fall in love with him that was why he was questioning your feelings.

It wasn't him whom you loved. It was the idea of him being your soulmate. You liked the thought that there was someone out there for you.

It made sense now, though. The fact that he could see colors brightly made him realize that your feelings were real, but it didn't mean he understood your reasons.

Jeongguk stood by his statement. He was unworthy of your love.

"You're not doubting yourself, Jeongguk." You shook your head at him, proving him otherwise. "You are doubting my feelings for you."

This wasn't about Jeongguk's beliefs. This was about you. You grew up thinking that when you felt like everything was collapsing, your only choice was to trust what you feel was right. It's because at the end of the day, you were going to be the one to face the consequence of your actions—not your parents, not your friends, and not even your soulmate. They would be affected by your decisions, yes, but only indirectly.

They could make their own choices that would directly affect their lives even if their choice was based on your decision. People would end up having different results even though they walked on the same path.

"But why me?" Jeongguk sounded broken as he asked this. It hurt you to think that he really thought so lowly of himself.

He couldn't be blamed. He loved Red before; however, it was still not enough. He had moved on from her, but it didn't mean that all the scars would fade away.

His first breakup up caused him to think that despite giving your one hundred percent, it would still be lacking for some people.

But you weren't some people.

You were you and you had your reason.

"Sometimes you don't need a reason to love someone." Your reason was not having a reason at all.

Your soulmate wasn't sure if he agreed to what you said.

Jeongguk didn't believe that just because things existed, it was already valid. Validation cannot be valid if one would not give enough reasons to prove why it's worth validating.

This was the reason why Jeongguk was questioning the love you claimed you felt. He needed reasons. He was just a human after all—always in need of affection and reassurance.

"I mean...I tried thinking of a reason why I shouldn't love you, but I just can't find any." Your confession made Jeongguk blush.

You had always been straight forward.

The way you loved was the opposite of how your soulmate loved. This was probably the explanation why it took him long to admit his feelings for you.

As stated, Jeongguk was in constant need of reason. His drawings of you were his proof of the love he felt.

"If you can't find any reason, then just allow me to tell you the million reasons why I love you."

He didn't wait for your answer. Jeongguk simply moved closer to you. His face was just inches away from yours.

"You're smart." And then he kissed your forehead.

You weren't only a book smart. You were emotionally intelligent. You had taught Jeongguk a lot of things, especially when it came to forgiveness and compassion.

"You're brave." He kissed you left eye.

He remembered the night you told him you liked him. It was in front of many people. You didn't hesitate even when he was running away.

"You're patient and understanding," he kissed your right eye.

You tried to understand Jeongguk's annoying attitude.

"You work hard in all aspects." He kissed your nose.

"You're beautiful," he kissed your left cheek.

You really were. Inside and out.

"It's you,"

Jeongguk didn't know if he could love someone who wasn't you.

"Most importantly, I love you because you are my soulmate." And then he kissed you on the lips.

You laughed in between the kiss, but you didn't stop kissing him back.

Did you forgive him?

The answer was yes.

Were you ready to love him again?

Perhaps.

Were you still hurt by his actions before?

Yes.

Did you want to be with him?

Yes.

There were many questions flooding your mind right now. Some of your answers might not be the truth, maybe you were just too happy right now—caught up in the moment because you were in Jeongguk's arms again.

But it didn't matter now because one thing was sure.

You were willing to love Jeon Jeongguk again because you didn't want to repeat his mistake.

You didn't want to lose your soulmate just because of hatred and denial.

Things were clear now.

Jeon Jeongguk loved you and the world was no longer black and white.

 BONUS: (a poem made by young OC that made her realize why she should trust her own feelings)

holy. after 6 weeks???? i’m finally done writing this baby. wow. thank you thank you everyone for reading this—especially those people who never failed to send me feedback. i love you all!

New fic alert! READ HERE >> SAVE ME - Demon!Taehyung x Doctor!Reader

YES. I LIKE USING BTS’ songs as the title of my fanfics. 😅

[sly-merlin]

KILLING ME- 14

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre : (fluff)  angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : cursing, mention of drugs, character death.

words : ~4k

summary :

“life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

or            

“ curiousity got the cat hitched”

K.M masterlist

K.M 13

TAGLIST : @kpop-choco @moon-yuta @kawaiiayasan @btm-taeyong @exfolitae @lanadreamie @cheersskznct ​​ @hyuckiesgf ​​ @theworld-accordingtocasey ​​@simplybree

@yiyi4657 @sorrywonwoo @sillywinnergladiator   @minejungwoo @leesalts @mal-nakamoto23 @ro2424 @itlittlefangirl @nctzens-world @bl–ankhaeji @jeaneteflo @nuoyii @bralessmermaid @minhoseyeliner @tyongpoetry @swimmingkpopblog @jkjkseo @orphicmoon @floralescapes

A/N : this chapter marks the celebration of this blog surpassing 600 followers! thank you so much for all the support! also for minor readers, the sfw versions of nsfw chapters are given at the end of the masterlist so check those properly before reading.

•••••••••••••

y/n! Are you sleeping?”

Registering his words, you replied in a groggy voice,“What the fuck do you want?”

“Your phone. I left mine in the medical room. I need to call Mark right now.” with some authority, he spoke.

Whining loudly, you fell back on the bed. It was only due but flailing your arms and legs like a kid in a toy store, you let out a screech full of annoyance, cursing your fate.

Were you really going to babysit him now?

"Have you suddenly lost your hearing? Stop with this sick attitude and open the door."

A puff of air left your nose, your chest moved rhythmically with your stomach and you relaxed your arms beneath your head, eyes fixed at the fan above and ears ringing with his voice. He kept calling you and after a number of shouts, you started humming to distract yourself, afraid that you'd end up helping him otherwise. That was something, naturally, you were not interested in. Last time he had ignored your voice and now nature had presented you with an opportunity to return the favour. Just with a bit less flavour.

"Are you dead?"

"Hmmm. To you, yes I am." Mumbling, you yawned and pushed yourself up to reach your side table and fishing out your earphones from the bottom drawer, you untangled them and fixed them comfortably in your ear, hiding yourself underneath the sheets.

Sonata no.14 instantly transported you away from the noise and the stress that was your unwanted husband, yuta. The smile playing on your lips widened as you realised that you were his only mode of communication at the moment.

But You were going for a nap. Until then, he could wait. And thrash. And cry. Or die.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you rotated the handle of the door to walk outside but your little trip was interrupted when your body collided straight into a wall. No. The obstruction was too soft for a wall.

Opening your eyes properly, you saw yuta standing stiff. Surprised at the sudden appearance, you immediately stumbled back and in hurry, hit your spine on the wooden door. The glare of his eyes, that always spoke more than you could comprehend, coupled with a clenched jaw, was not a very pleasant sight for sure yet you found it harder to dart your own eyes away from him.

"Your phone" he seethed, breathing deeply.

"Huh?" You croaked out.

He raised his brow and in an instant, the previous scenario played like a short movie in your head. Snapping your head down, you regarded his leg with pity. He obviously noticed it immediately but seemed to ignore it and refrained from saying anything. Good for you, you thought.

"Are you deaf?"

Your furrowed brows met his eyes and with a roll of his own, he picked up his finger to force his demand but you managed to walk back inside your room before he could've done that.

Your back faced him as you contemplated your options while slowly stretching your arm to reach for your phone on the other side of the bed.

should you even be giving him your phone?

You had more trust in Taeyong than the man you shared a roof with so there was no way you were doing that.

Unbeknownst to you, yuta was watching your movements intently and the way you bobbed your head, he knew you were scheming something so he decided to be polite for a moment. Only until you were needed. Or your phone was needed.

Once the phone was in your hand, another thought crossed your mind.

"Wait. Where is the house phone?" Crossing your arms, you asked him slyly, already knowing the answer

"You fucking never got it installed. It's still in its stupid package" he seemed rather impatient.

"And you could've called reception through the door telecom. He would have phoned Mark for you. These rich apartments certainly have more hospitality tha-

"I CAN'T GO AROUND DISTRIBUTING AN UNDERGROUND CRIMINAL'S CONTACT NUMBER TO EVERYONE"

He inhaled and exhaled and you just watched until he opened his eyes again, hand reaching out to you.

"Chill. I've every right to be sceptic especially when you are the one asking for it."

Finding Mark's number on your phone, you called him.

Yuta's hand threaded through his rough hair as he noticed what you were trying to do.

"Hey mark!" Your chirpy voice resounded in the room and yuta was sure this was some different spirit speaking. You sounded too bubbly for the way you were investigating him just a second ago.

"Yes yes. His phone exactly.i don't trust him enough to hand over my phone so that's why I'm calling you myself. Just hurry up if you can or you might have to clean up a dead body in the next few hours."

With that you cut the phone. Without meeting yuta's gaze and resting your hand on the handle, you mumbled,

"He'll be here in an hour."

You were about to close the door when he stopped it with the palm of his hand, alerting you with the force.

"Tell him to get some food too."

And limping, he retired back, to the couches.

Sighing, you messaged mark. Had it been for something else, you'd have ignored but your own stomach had signalled you that it needed some good food so you chose not to fight against your own body.

Now, only the taste of the food could decide how many days you were going to tolerate that barbaric human.

"Are you still going to that stupid internship?" Johnny hesitantly murmured from your desk chair while taking big bites from the plate.

"It's not stupid please! I’m just waiting for them to actually pay attention to my awesome capabilities so they can transfer me to the main branch. This is not bad either but”, you stopped to lick your forefinger and tasting the sauce, continued, “but I really wanna go into the criminal unit. That’s where the actual fun is. As long as i’m being paid decently, i’ll suffer with the stupid research work here.”

“With the tongue as sharp as yours, I think you should be getting ready for a demotion instead” he laughed, showing you his fake bunny teeth in the most annoying and childish way.

“Ha ha ha ha. Some well wisher you are! Thank you so much for looking out for me but I'll be fine. Who knows the gatekeeper’s pay package is more than me. So it’d be a win-win in that case too I guess?” when you did a drum roll with your chopsticks to stress upon your point, he laughed harder.

"So being broke is the new black?" Rolling his eyes, he dragged out, "I swear you kids don't know how this world works."

"And you, grandpa of the century, knows?"

"I'm aware of what I need for my survival and from what I've learnt, you can either take risks or look for job security. In your case, " he fake coughed, "where the proportions of risk taking have already exceeded the acceptable limit, a job security is the best and safest option to choose."

"And that would justify my greed and desire to work for the biggest company of this city."

"Kun. The security you need and the independence you seek would be given by kun. Chois are hmm how to say? Cheap? Yeh cheap. They have no work ethics. "

"Have you worked with them, johnny?"

"No. I'm ju-

"Then was your ex a choi?" You saw his eyes comically and cutely widening at your remark.

"No. My ex wasn't a choi and that's not what I'm saying and you know that."

"Oh. So your ex wasn't a choi. Then a lee? Kim? Im? Oh my god! Look at your cheeks seo!" You dragged out. He shook his head as you kept wiggling your brows at him.

"She was a kim but that doesn't mean I would hate all kims dude. That's baseless and stop ignoring the topic. I want you to apply in Kuns. It's the best option. Do it as soon as you-

"Yeah yeah we'll see about that. First take that bitch back. I can't even nap in his presence. "

"Umm. Yeah. You gotta tolerate him. And besides he's injured. Injured yuta is like a gun without a bullet. He's gonna shout for a day or two and then peace out. He'll be sleeping and reading in his room and you won't even know if he's alive or not."

"Now that's bullshit. What is he going to do here anyway? I hope he can hop himself on one leg because even if the sun rises from the north, I am not going to do a single task for him. He can die hungry , for all I care.”

“Do you think you can endure him for some tasty dinners?”

Clicking your tongue, you quipped, “Do you really think you can buy me with a few homemade meals?”

Day 1

Yes. you were sold. The moment the tasty noodles had melted in your mouth, you knew you had no dignity. And you were indeed ashamed of yourself.

Earlier, Renjun had called you to inform you that he had delivered the food and medicines for yuta and had left your dinner box but he had failed to mention the special and endearing note that was pasted on the glass box. In the curvy letters, it read bitchy piglet and you swore the only person you’d be killing before yuta would be jaehyun. But you were going to use jaehyun to build up your tolerance instead.

When you went out to clean your dishes, he was playing some game on his phone, excitement evident from the way he was laughing every other second. Maybe if he remained occupied, he would not be so insufferable.

Day 3

"Oyii! Oyii!"

No. You were wrong. He was very very much insufferable.

At midnight, his voice echoed, disturbing your sleep. You cursed at the cool atmosphere that had prevented you from using the air con which otherwise would have blocked his annoying screeches. But it seemed like bad luck wanted to change its name to y/n instead. With your name being called like a broken record, it was a fight between you and him that you were not going to lose. Shuffling to your side, you covered your ears with the other pillow and tried to drown out the annoyingly demanding and hoarse voice. There was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of having any power over you. He could cry for all he liked!

“What the fuck do you want at this hour?”

Attempting a glare at him through sleepy lids, you spewed with irritation. Unlike you, he was very much awake, breathing with the sole purpose of making you question your whole existence.

“Pillow” scratching his non-existent beard, he mumbled.

Your nostrils flared and jaw clenched at such inconvenient command.

“You summoned me for a pillow? A pillow that can normally be found on a person’s bed? Can you please rectify your demand or did I just simply hear something wrong?”

The opened curtains and the moonlight that drenched the room was the only source that illuminated his face for you and even with drooping eyes, you could see how serious he was and yet you couldn't hold your tongue back because he simply deserved every shit you bestowed him with.

“Turn the lights on and count the pillows on my bed! And when you are done, get me some pillows from your room.” he simply stated.

“Why should i give you my pillow? I need them!”

“Because I don't use a pillow and I need it asap!”

“Then why do you suddenly need one? To disturb my sleep? Oh that makes sense.” and suddenly, your eyes had synced with your body to side with your fight mode.

“I need them for elevating my leg. The bandage is too tight and it’s not comfortable.”

“Then why don't you walk out of the room and get some cushions for yourself!” you raised your volume.

“Because my leg is in pain and i’m unable to get up? What makes you think I'm dying to see your ugly face at this time of the night. I dont wanna have nightmares of you as well but i can't help it ok!”

“you should have kept them near you. And who are you calling ugly hmm? You poop fac-

“Okay scream for all you want! But get me a pillow when your battery dies down!”

“What the fuck d- are you covering your ears? Wow ways to be generous!”

Stomping your foot, you left the room to get the hardest cushion on the couch.

“Here! Next time call Mark if you want anything. Don’t raise your voice ever again to call me because unlike you, i have work in the morning and hence I need some sleep..”

Just when you were about to leave after shoving the cushion in his hand, he spoke up again,

“This is damn hard! I asked for your pillow specifically and not th- AHH!”

A scream left him as you harshly removed the support , leaving his leg to painfully meet the mattress.

“How about you fix your attitude before fixing your leg?” suggesting, you dropped the cushion on the floor and left.

He didn't call you after that. Nor that you cared. However, the sleep in your eyes somehow vanished. Dancing on your sides didn’t help. Neither did drinking a glass of water. So, with a groan, you listened to your conscience and picked up your extra pillow that was sadly too perfect for your enemy.

Padding to his room, you tried your best to scrutinise and hearing his heavy snores, you placed the pillow right under his thigh and the cushion under his calf. Scoffing at his sleeping figure, you internally groaned to remind yourself that you hadn't done it for him. It was just a debt. For the blanket he had once covered you with. Nothing more and nothing less.

Day 5

You just wanted him out of your hair. He was just being a load on your head. At first, only the work was kicking your ass, then jungwoo was kicking you like a punching bag for an hour straight and adding to your distress was yuta.

"I'm not your maid! Stop piling up the dishes for me. I've had enough mercy on you. From today onwards, get a cleaner for yourself or buy disposable cutlery. I'm not going to clean after you!"

With a roll of his eyes, he had ignored you.

And so did you. Pasting a warning note on the sink tap, you had left for the library with a dying hope that maybe the kitchen would be spotless on your arrival or you'd be dialing some numbers in the evening.

For someone who despised the solemn atmosphere of libraries, you had successfully spent 11 hours in the said hellish room. It was 11 p.m and you wanted to sleep, more than anything but here you were, waiting for yugyeom so he'd just pick you up for a good drinking session that you were dying to have.

Fortunately, you weren't the only one who had missed living these past days. Everyone, for different reasons, was suffering so you felt a little less bad for yourself even though you knew your troubles were far more grave than their academic burdens.

"Wake up shorts" someone whispered in your ear. Squirming on your seat, you whipped your head in your sleepy state and found jungkook caressing your head, goofily smiling at you.

"I thought you wanted to hang out till the next morning" air quoting the last words, he picked up your bag.

"Yeah. Let's go. I'm all ready for a night full of vodkas." You yawned out.

"Definitely. No. You are going home. We can have a small get together me and yuggy are done with our final project." He dragged you out into the parking lot.

" I feel like it's been years since we got drunk together. You are never here anymore!" You whined at him, complaining your heart out.

"I will be. Soon. Then we can celebrate your little choi job as well."

"Oh please. Don't even mention it. If I had penny for every time they rolled their eyes at me, I'd be richer than your parents kook." You huffed out and as his gentle laugh surrounded you, you closed your eyes resting your back against the seat, expecting to be up by the time he'd park.

But the next day, you woke up tangled in the sheets of your bed, unaware of the events of the previous night.

When you had warned yuta about the dirty dishes, you hadn't expected him to fill the corners of the kitchen with disposable containers. It looked like you had missed a whole drama while sleeping in the library. The kitchen was shining except for the new utensils. But as long as you were not babysitting him, you were fine with anything. You didn't want to jinx your relief, however, you were glad you would be able to get some work done. finally.

You had spoken too early for your own good. Just when you sat down to write your paper, passionate and enthusiastic howls of that man pierced through your earphones and once again, you opened the window and hopped outside, in the balcony, ready to drown him out. Sipping on your lemonade, you gaped at the scenery the not so distant traffic provided you with and somehow, your thoughts wandered to the only person these horns reminded you of. Johnny.

What are you doing? Your fingers hovered over the text but once again, you deleted the message, declaring it to be too childish for someone as mature as him. Maybe you were just being silly. Maybe you were not. But who was going to put a stamp on your maybe?

Tears pricked your eyes as the harsh words of your senior thundered in the room. He kept shouting and you had no option than to consume each and every word he directed at you. Even if you were being insulted in front of your twenty other co-workers, staying quiet was the best option, you ascertained. so along with your saliva, you gulped your explanations down your throat.

Howsoever unconscious, you were still in the wrong. There was no excuse as to why you had mailed the wrong bills, apart from the headache that was caused by the person possibly lying on the sofa and watching t.v back home. No matter how much you tried to run away from his existence, he had somehow managed to let himself inside your head.

Glaring at the kid who asked for his turn on the park swing, you pushed yourself a little higher, letting the wind greet your stinging eyes as it hit your face in waves. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you chose to ignore jungwoo for a day as it was the time, you decided, to let all the lessons that the past few months had taught you sink into your mind, to bleed into your soul so you won’t ever be able to deviate from them. Ever.

Only if that was so easy. You knew blaming others for your problems was no solution but trivialising them by not paying heed wasn't a smart move either.

When you reached home, your frustrations had died down. So when yuta simpered and pointed towards your empty container, telling you how he had already finished your supposed dinner, you simply rolled your eyes at him, robbing him of whatever he wanted to achieve by riling you up. Heating up the water, you were about to open the noodles packet when yeong called you.

You stared at the shattered phone screen in disbelief as the endless tears ran down your cheeks. As you verbalised the words to yourself again, your body met the floor with a thud.

Jungkook. Drugs. No more.

Three words had silenced the screeches in your head and your mind busied itself in rejecting what you had heard for it had to be a lie. But what how were you going to ignore the heart wrenching screams that yeong had let out. How were you going to dismiss the truth.

How were you all going to accept it?

••••••••••••••••

next update: Some day between 5-7 June.

[lovecanbesostrange]

It started with an ask on konako’s blog, that led to a small scene with Red kneeling before the Evil Queen. (x) That was almost Red Queen fun. But it spun into something very dark, because the Evil Queen did capture Red and torture as punishment followed (this goes into dead-dove territory, you are warned, it’s messed up). Here are 4k words of what happened in the palace dungeon afterwards (spoiler alert, excessive use of silver):

summary: Red made the Evil Queen look foolish and gets utterly destroyed for it (graphic depictions of violence included)

Finally a little triumph. The Evil Queen went down the stairs into the dungeon. Every step of her well-shined heeled boots echoed loudly from the stone steps. Sometimes she wished she had more patience to make good use of the cells down here. But she was bored too easily not getting answers and the prisoners died quickly. Her torturer barely had anything to do. Why did she even pay him anymore? (Did she pay anyone in the palace? They were allowed to live and had nice enough accommodations and food, for sure that was enough.)

But now Regina wanted to take all the time in the world. Her knights had captured that wolf woman! After the bloodbath she had caused weeks ago that made Regina look foolish, she would enjoy their time together now. And it would send Snow White a message in the end.

Two guards were posted outside the cell and two inside. Of course knowing they dealt with a werewolf made handling the prisoner easier. For one the full moon was a couple of nights away. And silver was easy to come by to keep her in line. Regina had also instructed her blacksmith to forge some chains in preparation for when she would be captured. It had been a priority task.

When Regina entered the cell she smiled and took in the sight. Red was chained up in the middle of the room. She was stripped down to her undergarments, her clothes on the floor, except for her cloak that was draped over one of the tables. Her arms were raised above her head, wrists bound by the heavy cuffs each connected to a chain going through a loop in the ceiling and then stretching all the way to a bolt in the wall. Her ankles were cuffed as well, a short heavy chain in between so she couldn’t take any significant steps. Not that she could run away, since her toes barely reached the ground. Red had to carry her weight in her arms, shoulders.

“Well, well, well, so we meet again.” Regina took her time to enter and circled Red, who tried to follow her with her eyes. “You made quite a spectacle the last time.”

“Do you want an apology?” Red’s voice was firm. Too firm for Regina’s taste.

“I don’t think you could muster up an honest one. You’re a deceiver.” Regina stopped in front of her. “Begging for those peasants’ lives and then killing my men.” She grabbed Red’s chin with her thumb and index finger. “You said there was no need for bloodshed and you happily slaid them anyway.”

“I wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t tried to take me.”

“As if you thought I would let you walk away from there.” Regina looked closely into those green eyes. Was the bravado real or just posturing? “Don’t get me wrong, the way you killed those men without a second thought was impressive. I can admire that. But the humiliation it would have been to return to the village and enact punishment, admitting to being defeated that day - I can’t let that slide.” She slapped Red across the cheek.

Red closed her eyes and didn’t turn her face back up. She was glad the villagers had been spared. Regina didn’t know how long she had stuck around to make sure there was no retaliation. And whatever was about to follow, would have been worth it. Snow had her plans to strike and they were close to luring the Queen into a trap. But every day more innocent people could die and Red could not sit by. She owed it to the victims of the wolf to use her strength for good now.

She heard Regina take a few steps back and looked again. The cloak was in her hands now. “Do you have any other name or should I just call you Red. Not very original, is it? Naming yourself after a bit of fabric.” Her fingers traced the patterns. “I sense magic in this. But I guess asking about it will not bring me answers, right? Just like any of Snow White’s plans won’t leave your lips.”

Statements. The Evil Queen had made up her mind already, questions weren’t part of whatever this encounter was. Red turned her hands around and tried to get a grip on the chain, change her position the slightest bit to take some strain off of her already burning shoulders.

“Do you know there isn’t much to find in books about your kind?” Regina exchanged the cloak for something else from the table. It reflected a bit of the amber light emitted from the fireplace and Red could see it was a simple dagger. “The one thing that is said over and over though is your weakness towards silver. I’m curious. Is it just the metal or wounds inflicted by it?”

Red already clenched her jaw before Regina put the blade against the skin on her upper arm, preparing to get cut. But instead Regina pressed the flat side on her skin first. Definitely silver. Pure. Red felt the effect in a matter of seconds and bit down, grinding her teeth.

Regina stood close again, caught her eyes with her gaze and kept pressing the blade against the tender side of her arm. “Don’t worry, I will write down everything I’m about to do here, so the books can add a chapter about how to break a wolf when in their human form.” And with that she turned the dagger and cut the skin. Red flinched, more from the shock than the actual pain. It was a relief actually to have the silver leave her.

“Are there noteworthy differences between a cut with this,” Regina lifted the dagger, “and a normal blade?” She gestured towards one of the guards and he immediately unsheathed a dagger from his boot. Without hesitation Regina reproduced the cut on the other arm. The blood almost tickled as it ran down. “Oh no, I’m making a mess. Getting blood out of clothes is such a hassle.”

Regina let one of the daggers fall down and with the other cut along the seams of Red’s top half of what she was left wearing. Red closed her eyes again as she felt air hit her exposed body. She knew which weapon Regina held and she could feel the silver being drawn over her skin, over her collarbone, between her breasts, down to her navel. The point barely left a scratch, but the offending metal felt like being brushed with a nettle. Red took in deep, sharp breaths through her nose.

That reaction was exactly what made Regina go slower with her movements. It wasn’t the sharpness that left the light red mark, no, it appeared the longer she held the blade in place. What an interesting sight to watch. Regina brought her free hand up to Red’s chin again, this time squeezing her jaw with her palm, digging her fingers into her cheek. Red looked at her again.

“You know, the longer you resist, the more adamant I will be to make you scream. That is how these things work.” She brought the dagger up to Red’s forehead, this time with the edge to cut into her skin again. It took a few seconds, but then the blood running over her eyebrows made Red blink.

“Can you hold this for me?” With that she wedged the silver dagger between the torn clothes and Red’s hips. Red squirmed trying to get away, but the blade touched her thigh ever so slightly. “I learned a valuable lesson the other day. A blacksmith works with iron. Like those chains holding you. Not used to working with silver. You would have to ask a silversmith about it. I even found one and he is working on special silver cuffs for me. Or rather, for you.”

Regina stood at the table again, her back to Red. When she turned around she held up a necklace. “So for now, I have to settle for delicate jewelry instead of the collar you deserve.” Under any other circumstance Red would have admired the piece. Obviously the star-shaped ornament was meant to hold a gemstone in place, a diamond or a sapphire, but this was stripped down to the silver components for one purpose only. “So you will get used to a leash later,” was all Regina added as she put it around Red’s neck.

Red held on. Her skin was crawling all over, the itch on her thigh burning already, but she tried to stay as still as possible. She couldn’t do anything against the tears forming in her eyes, betraying her brave face though.

Regina stood before her, brows furrowed. “Your healing isn’t as fast. I will need to wait hours to compare those cuts on your arms. There is something I am forgetting.” She rubbed her temples, feigning to think. “Oh, of course, I need a point of reference!” A clap of her hands alerted the guard. “You, get the girl from next door.” Red’s eyes went wide.

“No. Wait. You don’t need to drag anybody else into this.”

Regina stepped closer and slapped her across the cheek again, harder this time. “I don’t remember asking for your opinion and you will stop being so informal around me!”

“Yes, Your Majesty”, Red quickly gathered herself. “But please, there is no need-” But she already saw a frightened young girl being pushed into the cell. About her height and weight, seemingly healthy. For now. The girl fell to the floor and cowered there.

“I caught her stealing, so normally she would already be dead. But she can be of use for me.” Regina put a hand into her hair and yanked her head up, to make her look at Red. “Or do you want her dead right now?”

The terror Red felt was mirrored on the girl’s face. Was there a chance of survival for her? She was ready to beg for her life; to lie on that table where Regina obviously had more silver tools; to take any punishment herself. “No,” Red whispered. Another yank at the girl’s hair. “No, Your Majesty.”

“A fast learner.” She pushed the girl into a chair with cuffs on the armrests. Seating her in front of Red. The girl trembled and looked to the floor. Red tried to pull at her chains, but it only sent a jolt of pain through her shoulders.

Regina paced the room. After a while she came up behind Red. “Your shoulders must really hurt by now. Let me help you with that.” Her fingers played with the necklace and Red hissed. Shifting it around made the pain more noticeable. “The plate.” She said towards the guards. Behind Red a wooden plate leaned against the wall. A thin metal sheet on one side, coated in silver. She knew that before the guards shoved it under her feet. The wood added a few inches so in theory this took some of the weight off her shoulders, but the soles of her feet would soon itch, turn red, swell, hurt and most likely blister. She tried to balance on the outside of her feet only, to not hurt everywhere all at once.

“Do you know what the second thing is that some texts suggest to use against a werewolf?” Silence. “Oh, that was a genuine question directed at you. Do you know?”

“Fire.” Red answered between breaths. Her mouth was open now, it was dry. She didn’t dare to fully fill her lungs, because that made the necklace move. The attack on multiple parts of her body with the silver was starting to overwhelm her.

“That is correct. You know your weaknesses it seems.” Regina conjured a fireball in her hand. “Fire is pure. It doesn’t discriminate. It can be very elegant.” She stepped closer to Red, hand outstretched so she could feel the heat of the flame. “How fast can you heal a burn wound?”

“I don’t k-” Red couldn’t finish that sentence, because Regina held her hand to her side now. A scream was all that escaped her lips. The fireball wasn’t cast, but the flame burned her flesh. Red clenched her fists and tried to step away, the chains around her ankles making a screeching sound dragging over the silver plate. There was no escape, because Regina just followed with her hand. She closed her hand and the fireball vanished. Red went slack, her breathing sped up. The only good thing was that in this commotion, the dagger had gotten loose and fallen to the floor.

Red sorted out her senses, trying to gather her bearings, when she heard the girl scream. Louder, more fearful, indicating the horrible pain she never felt before. Regina had torn her clothes and burned her at the exact same place on her body. For reference. Red couldn’t put the horror of it into words. Would it indeed be better for the girl if she was dead already? She didn’t even know her name.

And Red didn’t learn her name over the next few days, because whatever happened, she would not talk to her. Regina had strictly forbidden it and the rotating guards would hit her at a single word. It was almost comical. Red’s body went numb. Cuts, rashes, bruises, welts, burns, scratches. It came and went. The pain was a constant throbbing, she got repositioned a few times, but it felt like she would never use her arms on her own accord again. But whatever happened to her, the girl looked worse. Red did heal faster from any wound not dealt with silver. But it did take a lot from her regardless. She lost track of time. What was sleep? Any kind of shame about being naked had vanished. Instead of clothes her body was covered in forming scars, marks and blemishes.

Red tried to count the rotations of the guards, to get any kind of feeling for the passing days. It was only days, right? It felt like forever. Silver on her skin somewhere at all times, lashes from a whip, getting burned with a torch, red hot iron, and so many cuts to make her bleed. The worst still a long deep wound on her right cheek, starting at her ear right to the corner of her mouth. When they allowed her some water, it even hurt to swallow.

Later Red found out it had been five days in total. It seemed like a small window of time. But the Evil Queen lived up to her name. Especially on day four, when she left permanent damage. While Red was mostly kept standing up, the girl was strapped to the chair. Not that she had any energy left to walk out of here, even if they’d opened the door for her. Regina stood behind her and pulled her head back.

“Just look at me, I’m sure this won’t hurt you.”

Red looked on as Regina dripped liquid into one of her eyes. The girl flinched, but that was a reflex. None of her sounds of discomfort or pain left her throat. That made Red more nervous than she would admit. And she was right to be.

“Just as I thought. Look at that, barely irritated.” She pushed the girl’s head forward, her eye teared up, maybe a bit reddened.

Regina walked around her and caught Red’s gaze. “Such beautiful green eyes. Quiet unusual. Of course not as remarkable as the wolfish gold, is it?” The way she kept staring was unnerving and Red’s breathing already picked up. Fear. In a short amount of time she had learned what fear truly was.

“Hold her steady.” A guard came and grabbed Red’s head from behind. Panic sunk in and she started to squirm, tried to turn her face away, to wiggle out of his grip. She wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but she knew she wanted out. Right now. No more pain, she couldn’t take anymore. But she had to.

Regina got a few drops out of the vile, into Red’s right eye. “Don’t worry, it’s mostly water. Just a tiny bit of silver dust mixed into it.”

Red pushed her body back as hard as she could, but her mangled feet had no grip, it was more like leaning into the guy. No force to get him off. And then the pain started. It felt like a needle prick. And all of a sudden the colors exploded in Red’s sight. Everything was sharper, the light from the fireplace brighter. She knew her eyes turned golden like before she would transform. It had happened a few times, when highly agitated. Now it was a physical response.

Regina laughed. “I did not expect that.” She met Red’s terror with fascination. More needle pricks in her eye, the urge to rub it away. Red pulled at her chains, she wanted to press the palm of her hand against her eye and get the irritating feeling out. But there was no chance. All Regina saw was the golden color and Red gasping for air, holding back a scream. The hitched breathing was a good enough tell that this hurt.

Worse than the pain that kept sinking in was the way Red started to see white dots, blind specks in her vision. Three, four, five, more and more. She blinked, her tearducts fighting off the intrusion, but the silver too strong an opponent. Red clenched her jaw and groaned. She let out a growl from deep within, filled with frustration and pain. It was more of a bellow than a scream. Regina smiled at that.

While Red’s left eye got back to its human green, the right eye stayed golden, a misty layer clouding the bright hue. It drew Regina’s full attention, while it would be weeks for Red to discover the permanent change. Blinded, only noting a change between light and darkness. Her eyeball feeling like it was rubbed with sandpaper made the rest of the day seem like nothing. Time moved on

And then unthinkable happened. The chains were loosened completely, the cuffs came off. Red tried to curl up on the floor, but she could barely move her joints. Everything hurt too much. But Regina laughed. “Remember that I said I will make you beg for more than mercy? How about you ask me to end her suffering?”

Red looked up. Trying to adjust to the impaired vision. As bad as she felt, the girl looked worse. “Please…”, the girl said and the guard standing behind her, hit her against the head immediately.

It took everything Red had to turn herself upright, to bend her knees and sit on them. To kneel before Regina again. No side eye, no hint of a smirk, no failsafe. The burn marks hurt worst next to the chafed skin around her neck from the necklace that was also gone now. “Your…” Red was shaking, she had to cough trying to speak. “Please, Your Majesty. End her suffering. I beg you. Please. It’s enough… enough…” And with that she fell down again.

“Pathetic.” Regina’s verdict was cold as ice. “And to think I had a gift for you just now. Guards.” They stood next to Red and pulled her to her knees again, held her up. Regina leaned towards her. “My silversmith has arrived.” She produced a silver object and only when the lock clicked around her neck did Red realize this was the collar she had talked about. She felt the burn on her throat and winced. It was a sound she was used to producing by now.

“So?”

“Please… Your Majesty…” Red was panting, she could not finish the plea.

Regina rolled her eyes. “If this is the best you can do, so be it. Ending the suffering now.” And with that her hand shot straight into Red’s chest and pulled out her heart. “Kill her. Rip her throat out like you always do.”

Red wanted to scream. She wanted to jump the Evil Queen. To tear up the men holding her. But what she wanted was irrelevant all of a sudden. The will to do it was overwritten. She looked at the girl, defeated, not even surprised. While Red’s mind fully woke up for the first time in days, all her muscles reacted to something else. The pain all over her body was terrible, but every second she didn’t comply was even more agony.

Red crawled more than she walked to get to the chair. She hovered over her nameless victim, tried to hold back, but those terror-stricken eyes met hers. “Make it quick, please.” Oh, if only she could turn into a wolf, those sharp teeth would take less than a second. Regina had specified how this girl was supposed to die and Red could not opt to cut her throat with a knife, she sunk her still very human teeth into it. The larynx, so easy to wrap fangs around, was hard, the skin and flesh thick. The scream the girl let out was only short, because the pressure suffocated her. It was impossible to make this quick-

Finally Red tasted blood. Tears ran down her face, but she could not stop herself from this horrible act. This slow, agonizing, inhumane death of a nameless chamber maid, who probably hadn’t even stolen a thing. Someone at the wrong place, at the wrong time, who had suffered for days for cruel experiments with no merit. One more victim added to Red’s tally. Not for good. Not in battle. Not in defense. Needless cruelty.

When the girl’s heart stopped, Red finally could let go. She sank on all fours, spat out what she could of the blood and wailed. Her own heart wasn’t even in her chest, but it had never felt heavier.

“Get the smith down here now, he knows what to do.” Regina sent one guard away. Red looked up, warm blood dripping from her chin, she could feel it. Disgusting. If she had any strength left, this would be the time to strike. But all Regina needed to do was a little squeeze. Her heart hurt. No, Red was helpless. Any thought of fighting back an illusion.

“I think it’s best that you lie down on the table for this next part.”

Red wanted to put her head under a guillotine right now. To kill like that was worse than any of the torture methods the Evil Queen had come up with. Regina had won. But Red couldn’t do anything but comply and lied down, waiting for her fate.

It came in the form of a small white haired man, holding a sort of chalice with a long tongue. His hands were shaking and Red couldn’t tell if it was because of what he was doing or just being in Regina’s presence. She couldn’t make sense of what was happening. A guard came and put her wrists into the handcuffs again, strapping her to the table. A chain going over her thighs and under the table fixated her.

Regina squatted down next to her, stroking her hair. “Feel free to scream for me now.”

“The mold.” Wood was pressed against her back. “Careful with your fingers there, wouldn’t want to burn you.”

And then everything was fire. The scream from Red’s throat surprised Regina enough that she stood up. Loud, agonizing, on the brink of collapse. What looked like a chalice was a melting pot, containing a few grams of molten silver. It was poured on Red’s skin and burned her instantly, severely. Water followed mere seconds later to turn the liquid back to solid, but the damage was done. A silver ring fused into her flesh. The pain and the sensory overload from heat to cold send her into shock. She was still screaming with the taste of warm blood in her mouth when the faint claimed her.

[sokkascroptop]

traitor (sokka x f!reader) pt 17

part 1 | part 16 | part 18

A/N: Best girl friends Katara & Y/N 😌How?? do people write chapters that are less than 4k. I’ve been cursed. Also, it’s canon now. They fist bump in the atla universe. 

Their second kiss was everything that the first wasn't. Where that one had been quick and desperate; one that felt like it held all the words Sokka didn’t know how to say, the second was soft and full of happiness that they didn’t have to say anything at all. It was almost enough to make Y/N forget the dull ache in her side and the pounding of her head. But it wasn’t long before they were interrupted. 

“I’ll check in here–woah.” Aang stood just outside the tent with his jaw on the floor. “Sorry!” He squeaked, a pink blush lighting up his cheeks. He ran off and Sokka and Y/N were alone again. They shared a look of horror and scrambled apart. 

“Do you think he saw?” Sokka grimaced. 

Y/N widened her eyes. “‘Do you think he saw?’” she mimicked in his deeper voice then promptly shoved her face in her hands. Oh gods, Y/N didn’t know that this level of embarrassment existed. 

She only had a second to think of an excuse for what they had been doing, because as soon as Aang had disappeared, Katara replaced him. 

She paid no attention to Y/N who was furiously blushing and smacked Sokka’s shoulder. “Sokka, she’s hurt! What are you doing?!”

“Ow, hey! Katara!” Sokka rubbed the place she had hit him. “Aang, why did you tell her!”

Aang peeked his head in the tent. “I didn’t say anything!” 

“He didn’t have to!” Katara chastised. Her eyes softened as she looked at Y/N. “How do you feel?”

“Much better, thanks to you.” Y/N wrapped her arms around the girl in a tight hug. 

Katara held her shoulders. “Come on. Now that you’re awake we need to get moving.”

Y/N’s stomach flipped anxiously. “Why?”

“While we were out, we spotted more Fire Nation soldiers coming into the village.” Katara must have felt Y/N tense under her hands and gave her a squeeze. “It’s okay, but we don’t want them to find us. Come on.” She helped pull Y/N to her feet, glaring at Sokka when he reached out to help. He shrank away from them both and started to collect the blankets. 

Y/N allowed herself to be led out of the tent with Katara’s arm around her waist. Y/N was grateful for it, she didn’t realize she’d be so dizzy standing up. “You know, it’s really okay, Katara. I kissed him,” She murmured. 

Katara let out a great sigh and gave Y/N a smile. “I knew you liked each other but I’m allowed to question your sanity because Sokka’s my brother.”

Y/N laughed but immediately clutched her side and doubled over as a stabbing pain shot through her body. “Ugh, don’t make me laugh.” She collapsed next to Toph on the ground and leaned her back against Appa’s side, out of breath from the short walk from the tent. 

“Are you going to help them clean up camp?” Y/N asked the younger girl. 

Toph picked at her fingernails. “Nah, I’m keeping you company.” She paused and then turned to look at Y/N–well, as close as she could, she was looking over Y/N’s left shoulder. “You scared everyone last night.” 

Y/N looked to the other three; Katara was rolling up sleeping bags, Aang was covering the smoldering fire with dirt, Sokka was wrestling with his tent and losing. Toph’s voice had been low enough that no one but she had heard. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” Y/N didn’t know if she could possibly feel worse about everything. 

Toph shrugged and gave her a light punch on the leg. “Don’t do it again, yeah?”

---

Once everything was packed and Appa took off, Y/N leaned against Sokka in their usual spot at the back of the saddle as a silent apology for what had happened after their interrupted kiss. Sokka draped his arm over her shoulders and at sight of that, Katara sent her a wry smile. 

Y/N leaned close to Sokka’s ear. “Did you tell them what I did?”

Sokka didn’t need her to elaborate. He sucked in a sharp breath before he answered. “I just said we got ambushed. No details.”

Y/N stared off into the distance at the fluffy clouds. “Don’t tell them.” She slid down further and let her head fall heavy on his arm. She was exhausted, but she was afraid to close her eyes, afraid for what would haunt her behind her eyelids. Eventually, she succumbed to sleep, and was blessed with a dreamless, weightless nap. 

However, not all her sleep was so uninterrupted. It was two days before she had her first nightmare. 

The logical part of her brain knew this was a dream, but it didn’t make it any less terrifying. She was stuck in a loop, forced to relive killing Kaito over and over. If that wasn’t bad enough. It wasn’t always Kaito, it was Aang and Sokka and Katara and Toph. Sometimes it was Zuko and Azula, even Mai and Ty Lee. Everyone Y/N cared about, everyone she loved and yet here she was, letting her sword slice cleanly through their throats like it was nothing. Eventually, Kaito’s face stopped showing up, and so did his voice. It was replaced with pleas from her friends, “Please Y/N, don’t kill me!” “Y/N, I promise I’ll never leave you again, please don’t do this.” “Y/N, you know this is right!” 

Each of their voices echoed in her ears until they bled together and she couldn’t decipher who was begging for what. Y/N had had enough, she wanted out of this nightmare–

Y/N woke with a start. Her face was stiff with dried tears. Luckily for her, she didn’t wake up screaming. It was pitch black out out and she could hear Appa snoring to her left. She rolled onto her side and looked at who was closest to her. It was Sokka. She focused on his drooling face until her heart rate slowed down and she was able to drift back to sleep. 

---

Y/N wanted to sleep, but Sokka wanted to train, so that’s what they did. Though she wasn’t much of a training partner while she was half-awake and lying in the grass at his feet. 

“You know, you’re supposed to be critiquing me,” Sokka said, finishing a move with his sword. “Not just admiring the view.”

Y/N shaded her eyes from the sun. “I’m not admiring the view.” That might have been a lie, but she was never going to tell Sokka that. “I was just waiting until you were done to tell you what you were doing wrong.” Y/N squinted up as Sokka approached her.

“What did I do wrong then?” Sokka’s eyes were crinkled in a smile. Y/N was silent. “That’s what I thought.” he said proudly.

“Come on, help me up”–She held out her hands and allowed Sokka to pull her to her feet–“I’m done watching you show off while I have to sit on the sidelines.” 

“Does it still hurt?” he asked, swinging the hand he still held between them. It was an honest question, but there was a hint of worry behind it.

It had been two days and Katara’s water healing was doing more for her than any Fire Nation healer could ever do. Y/N poked at the pink scar on her stomach “Only when I move fast which is why Katara won’t let me spar,” she said begrudgingly. It was partially true. Katara had told her she needed to take a break from sparring, but Y/N was grateful for the break. As much as she loved it, and sometimes needed it, she couldn’t imagine picking up a sword, her sword, that killed two people and using it against Sokka. Even if it was a sparring match. It felt wrong. 

As they crested a hill they noticed Aang standing on the side of a large mud pit where Toph and Katara were wrestling. The two of them joined him and watched as Toph kicked mud in Katara’s face. 

“What are they fighting about?” Sokka asked Aang.

“I don’t even know.” Aang shook his head. “Hey guys! I thought we were supposed to be training me?” 

Both girls quickly stopped their fight when they realized they’d garnered an audience. “Very well, pupil. I believe we’ve had enough training for today.” Katara spoke in a sharp voice that sounded like she was a Fire Nation teacher or noblewoman and Y/N bit back a snicker. 

Katara pulled herself out of the mud pit and stomped back to camp while Toph bent the mud off herself and waded back to the other three. “While Katara cleans up, let’s go have some fun!!”

“Yes!” Y/N shouted along with the two boys. Finally! Something that she was actually going to be allowed to do. For the past two days she had sulked around camp doing nothing except help Katara with chores. Not to mention all the down time meant her mind was racing. She needed a break to get away from flashbacks of that night that plagued her every waking moment. 

“Y/N, you should stay back and let me heal you some more before dinner.” Katara waved her over.

Y/N immediately deflated. “No. Come on Katara. I’m so bored. I want to go have fun with the others!” She pouted. She felt like a little girl who was begging her mother for candy. But the look on Katara’s face said she wasn’t budging. 

Y/N turned to the other three. She squeezed Sokka’s hand. “Have fun guys.”

---

Katara hovered her hands over Y/N side. The water was soothing and made Y/N sleepy. It was probably best she stayed behind, or at least Y/N kept telling herself that.

“How am I doing, Master Healer Katara?” Y/N murmured. 

Katara chuckled and removed her hands. “I’m not a Master Healer.”

Y/N sat up and stretched her back. “I think Aang and I would both beg to differ. If I was in the Fire Nation, I’d probably still be on bedrest like, dying from infection or something. Not able to walk around and do things.”

“I guess I just always wanted something different. I didn’t want to be just a healer.” Katara began to putter around camp, pulling out bowls and rice, preparing to make dinner. 

“Well, you’re really good at it. Not that you're not good at combat waterbending, because you’re amazing at that too.”

Katara pursed her lips. “I trained in the Northern Water Tribe with Aang. There they don’t let women learn fighting styles.”

“That’s awful!” Y/N was so surprised to hear that there were still places around their world that didn’t lend the same opportunities to men and women. “But you obviously know them so how did you learn?”

“I had to challenge the Master to a duel for him to take me seriously. I know healing, but it isn’t enough for me.” Katara looked at Y/N in the eyes with a determined furrow of her brows. “I never want to have to beg for someone to take me seriously ever again.”

“No one should have to do that.” Y/N knew what Katara was feeling, she just wished she could apply the same logic to her own life when it came up. Katara was an accomplished waterbender, there was not a doubt about that, and some might say that Y/N was an accomplished swordswoman, but she could never take that seriously. She always needed to be better–no–the best. Of course none of that mattered to her now. She was her best and look at what that had done. 

“Are you...okay?” Katara had stopped what she was doing and looked at Y/N earnestly.

“What do you mean?” Y/N twirled a piece of her hair around her finger.

“You’ve been acting differently. You’re quieter around everyone. And you’re always tired.” Katara pointed out as Y/N yawned.

“I’m fine. It’s all probably because I got hurt. My body’s recouping or something.” Y/N didn’t know whether Katara believed her, but she stopped asking questions. 

---

“Oh spirits, Katara is going to be so mad that we’re doing this.” 

Sokka slung an arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “We are not thinking about Katara’s wrath right now. We are thinking about fun.” 

Y/N slipped an arm around his waist and watched as Toph handed over their bag of coins–all the money they had–to the scam artists in the street. “What is the point of this game anyways?”

Aang answered her. “You throw those sticks with the symbols on them. You win if both sticks have the same symbols face up.” 

Y/N bit her lip as she watched Toph take the sticks from one of the sneering men and toss them onto the stones underfoot. Both she and Sokka leaned forward, waiting with bated breath. Just as it seemed that one of the squared off sticks was going to flip, it stopped. Three painted red circles were face up on both sticks. 

“Yes!” Y/N jumped in the air. The rush was instantaneous. Her heart was beating fast and she was lightheaded. No wonder the others didn’t want to stop doing this! This was the first thing in days that actually felt good, and Y/N wanted as much of that as she could get her hands on.

Toph snatched their bag of money back from the stunned men and Aang grabbed the bag of money they had bet against her and the four of them ran off down the streets. 

“What are we going to buy first?!” Aang asked.

“I think I have an idea.” Y/N smiled mischievously. 

---

The four of them were lounging in the center of town, around the giant statue of Firelord Ozai spitting fire. It was so grotesque that Y/N laughed when she first saw it. She also might have mused low enough for only Sokka to hear about what the Firelord might have been compensating for with such a large, scary statue. 

“I don’t care what any of you think, the Fire Nation has the best chocolate anywhere,” Y/N sighed happily. She was laying on the stout wall surrounding the statue. None of them knew if it was disrespectful, but no one had come to chase them away either. Y/N hoped that it was. 

Aang was laying on the wall too, in the opposite direction as Y/N with his head just brushing hers. He held his fist above her face and she bumped it with her own. “Agreed,” he said.

“I finished mine.” Sokka tilted his head back from where he was on the ground and laid it on Y/N’s arm. “Can I have some of yours?”

Y/N broke the tiniest piece she could manage and placed it in Sokka’s hand. “You should have savored it instead of eating it all in one bite.”

“I can’t–” Sokka popped the piece Y/N gave him in his mouth. “–no self-control.”

“If you guys are done flirting. I want to get back to scamming,” Toph droned from the ground next to Sokka. Y/N didn’t have to turn and look to know the face she was making. 

Y/N grinned. “That’s not flirting, Toph. This is–” Y/N grabbed Sokka’s chin and laid a loud kiss on his cheek. “Mwah!”

Y/N would have been satisfied just hearing Aang and Toph make fake retching sounds behind her back, but she was even more pleased when she saw Sokka’s reddened cheeks. She poked one lightly before saying, “Let’s go scam some people!”

---

This was the second fight in as many days between Katara and Toph that Aang, Sokka and Y/N had to witness. The three of them shared a look as the girls argued in the middle of camp as if no one was around. 

“I’ll stop when I want to stop!” Toph stomped away and made a rock tent around her, shutting herself from the rest of them. 

“Welllll,” Sokka snatched a bag of coins from next to Y/N’s leg and held a hand out to her. “Speaking of money, we’re off to spend some. Come on, Y/N.”

Katara stepped in front of her. “Y/N, you shouldn’t keep going into town.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow and looked down at the younger girl. “Why? Considering what happened in the last one? Or is this just another one of your new rules?” 

Y/N was half-joking but something about how Katara was acting rubbed her the wrong way. She didn’t like how Katara was blaming everything on Toph and she didn’t like that she was trying to tell them what to do. Then again, everything put Y/N on edge lately, so she didn’t know what was real or imagined anger. She knew that Katara was just trying to be protective of her, whether she meant that she was still healing or that she meant that she was in danger from being attacked again, Y/N didn’t like either one. The only joy that Y/N had had in the past few days was going to town with the others and stealing from the scammers. Otherwise, her mind was flooded with images of blood and dead friends. Y/N hadn’t even touched her sword since, not knowing if the blood had stained the steel red. Sokka promised her he washed it off, but it felt cursed now. 

A hurt look crossed Katara’s face and she stepped out of the way. Normally they agreed with nearly everything. Y/N felt bad but that feeling left as soon as it came. Y/N needed this. She didn’t need Katara protecting her. 

---

“This is the dumbest purchase you could have made, Sokka.”

“But also the coolest, right?!” The beady eyes of Sokka’s new messenger hawk bore into her, asking her to give another answer other than yes. 

“I guess. I like mine better.” Y/N drew the new dagger at her side and checked her reflection in it. It was a ceremonial knife; heavy and would be hard to wield, but Y/N couldn’t help that shiny–and sharp–objects caught her eye like she was a magpie. It also made her feel better, having a weapon other than her sword. Something that was clean and untainted, something that was still beautiful. 

“Now Hawky–”

“I beg of you, pick a new name.”

Sokka frowned at her, then turned back to his hawk. “Hawky, we already have a lemur at camp, so I don’t want to see any fighting.”

The hawk screeched in Sokka’s face.

Y/N dragged one finger down one of the hawk’s red wings. “Okay, he’s kind of cool. Do you think he’s saying, ‘Yes, I promise not to fight’ or ‘I’m waiting until you go to sleep to rip your eyes out’?”

“Oh, this is really not good.”

“Yeah, I know. I tried to tell you not to buy–”

“No,” Sokka grabbed Y/N’s elbow before she could walk too far away. “This.”

On the wall was a wanted poster for one, ‘The Runaway’ with a very accurate, yet crude drawing of Toph on it. “They’re not going to let us come to town alone if we keep finding wanted posters of all of us.” Y/N ripped the poster down and rolled it up.

---

“What is this?” Katara dropped a piece of paper in Y/N’s lap. It was Toph’s wanted poster. The same poster that should be in the bottom of Y/N’s bag, hidden, never to see the light of day again. Toph had asked Sokka and Y/N to keep it between the three of them and Y/N had kindly hidden the poster to do just that. They’d be leaving soon anyways, so what was the big deal?

“Why were you going through my things, Katara?” Y/N asked calmly, but underneath, her blood was boiling. Why did Katara think she had the right to go searching through her things when she felt something amiss? 

“I–” Katara knew she didn’t have any defense for going through her bags. “Why would you hide this from me? You of all people know that this is not okay!” 

“Me of all people? What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N had stood up now. She towered over Katara but that didn’t mean she was backing down. The girl was a spitfire.

“I thought you would be on my side!” Katara shouted. 

Y/N scoffed. “Why? Because I’m used to following orders?” 

“That’s not what I–”

“Just accept it, Katara! You’ve started to treat us like we’re all children. I don’t need your help, I don’t need your protection. I don’t want it! You’re not Sokka’s mom, you’re not Toph’s mom, you’re not Aang’s mom and you’re definitely not my mom. So stop asking me if I’m okay and stop telling me what I need!” Y/N grabbed her sword, hellbent on getting out of camp as fast as she could. 

“Where are you going?” Katara asked. 

“I’m going to train, Master Healer Katara! If you’ll let me!” Words that she once meant as a compliment, lashed out venomously. That sweet conversation where it felt like they were spilling intimate secrets was a million miles away. And for the first time since they had met, Y/N hoped that she had hurt her friend. Maybe then Katara could understand what Y/N was feeling in her chest every time she breathed. 

---

Y/N sat on one of the many cliffs around their campsite with her feet dangling over the edge. It reminded her of the cliffs around her home on Ember Island. When she was younger her brothers had taken her out there and let her jump with them as long as she kept it a secret. Y/N wondered absently if she’d ever feel that rush again, the rush of jumping into the water from a cliff or the rush of keeping a secret like that. Now that she was older, secrets were just heavy burdens one was forced to carry. 

Y/N touched her sheath next to her. She didn’t even know why she brought it. She didn’t want to look at it, let alone draw it and wield it. But it still was a comfort to have it near, just as it had been her whole life. 

“Hey.”

Y/N didn’t turn to acknowledge Katara. Despite this, she sat down next to Y/N. They both stared at the water hundreds of feet below them. Y/N was starting to feel the guilt for yelling at Katara creeping up. 

“I made up with Toph.” She paused. “I also talked to Sokka–” Y/N flinched but Katara continued like she didn’t notice. “–I don’t expect you to tell me everything. But I know when something is bothering you. You’re on edge, you barely sleep. Something happened in that forest and I don’t mean you getting hurt. Something else, something they did or said. Or something you did.”

Y/N violently shook her head. She felt like she was going to be sick. “I can’t–”

“You don’t have to.” Katara wrapped her in a hug that Y/N didn’t think she deserved. “Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” Y/N returned the hug. She had changed her mind. Sometimes it was nice to have someone to look out for you when you were used to looking out for yourself for so long. It didn’t mean she was going to tell Katara, or any one else, for that matter, but having the option was nice too.

---

A/N: I tried to stay with the storyline completely but it made the chapter like, super fucking long so I veered off and we got this hot mess. 

Taglist: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon @reclusive-chicken-nugget @astroninaaa @aangsupremacy @beifongsss @crownofcryptids @welovediaaxx @littlefluu @lozzybowe @thebluelcdy @ohjustlookalive @sugarmoongey​ @fanficdepot​ @teenbiology​ @13-09-01​ @riespage​ @davnwillcome​ @naanlianid​ @creation-magician @lunariasilver​ @vintagerose1014516 @bcifcng @rockinearthbending-marauders​ @francesciak​ @thia-aep​ @aphrcditeee​ @milk-n-cheese​ @solarsuki​ @sendnuwudes @humbleseame​ @my--shitty--art @lovingcupcake51002 @loganrwebb @celia-not-cecilia @treestarrrrrrrr @p--e--a--c--h--e--s​ @velveteencurls @izzieserra @oddment-nitwit-blubber-tweak @salsasadd @nataliahaslosthershit @awkwardnesshabitat @lanie103 @emogril @im-the-galactic-starfish @charlotteisabella @alienmotel @smarshere @crxsshatcht @starxtt @sugamonster22 @natsbelova @mellisophilia @calumsfringe @whatsuphoesandbros @samsmultifandomblogs @ask-kfc-siblings @i-love-superhero @justasukisimp @grouchiest-hufflepuff @zukostan221​ @feverish-dove @catchingrhythm @zuko-and-sokkas-simp @euphoricmads @ivetoldamillionlies @fanficsformyperusal @mikxyu @someonekeepstakingmyusernames @earthtokace @bison-whistle @justamessandahalf

[areyougonnabe]

Fic Writer Questions!

tagged by @palamedessextus !!! thank u i love to procrastinate on writing by writing about writing

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

110 on my main account (+ 4 on my sneaky sock for Crimes™ lol)

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

614,551 on my main account which is. hm. a lot

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

obvi the main ones are the terror (50 fics) and good omens (35 fics). beyond that: TMA, the OA, doctor who, LOST, red dwarf, what we do in the shadows, the aubreyad, legends of tomorrow, banished, MCU, bbc ghosts, jeeves & wooster, russian doll, true detective, twin peaks, fleabag, & it's always sunny.

so technically 19, but wow a LOT of those are because i am a fiend for crossovers. (true detective x red dwarf... twin peaks x hannibal... the OA x lost.... russian doll x doctor who...) and many of the others were one-offs for yuletide. i'm pretty monofannish when it comes to writing!

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

lol they're all going to be for good omens... let's see

1. "it's a new craze" - the podcast fic. imho this fic is the definition of "The Claw," a.k.a. the phenomenon that sees some fics plucked out from the fray to become super popular. i'm not denying that it's good! i still think it's pretty clever! but its popularity was probably as much a function of timing as of quality

2. "what a way to make a living" - the uber driver fic. honestly still pretty proud of this one, it flows well and is structurally interesting and genuinely very funny and the perfect length. i had a blast in good omens fandom writing comedic fic, this one

3. "dearly departed" - another one i'm still very happy with. my first ever finished multi-chapter fic & the story that proved to me i could sustain a plot and original characters and also that people would actually enjoy it. so a pretty big deal!

4. "blame it on my juice, baby!" - the fake love potion one. i wrote this fic while delirious with horrible fever cooped up in a tiny council flat airbnb bedroom in london. i think it's still pretty strong although since writing it i've developed a severe aversion to the "meddling friend engineers a get-together" trope in fic & so cringe a bit when i read it back, lmao

5. "greatest hits" - the one with the original songs! the songs are still good.... the fic is ehhhhhhh i guess.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

i don't respond to comments on most of my gomens fic anymore because 🤷‍♀️ but i do try to reply to everything i get on my terror fic/smaller fandom stories! my replies are usually very lame but i do like to take the time to thank people for reading.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

i usually don't write angsty endings because i'm a weenie BUT the one exception is probably my terror/TMA crossover which cannot be said to end well by any means lol

7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

dearly departed has a very lovely ending... i will also plug my OA fic heat rises which is GREAT and has a GREAT ending and nobody read it because nobody watched the OA. i'm fine it's fine

8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

as mentioned above, yes, compulsively... award for craziest simply has to go to It's Always Sunny In Another Dimension which is, yes, an IASIP x OA crossover. i apologize for nothing

9) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

not that i can recall, [bubbe voice] tenks gad!!!

10) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

i do i do.... when i first picked up fic writing again after college i thought smut would forever totally beyond me but after some very kind encouragement from friends i tried my hand at it & was off to the races.

i would not say i am an expert at it by any means but i have a lot of fun with it, & people seem to generally appreciate it, so i will keep going!

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

also no, phew

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes, a bunch of my gomens fics have been translated into chinese and russian, which is so so super cool!

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yuh, i had a few legendary cowrites in GO! the slow show metafic with cherry @fremulon and the shitscript crossover extravaganza with hallie @kalelraejepsen !!! both tremendously fun experiences

14) What’s your all time favorite ship?

that is a very tough one. if you go by my ao3 bookmarks it's aziraphale/crowley, which might be true still tbh... but i dunno. maybe ten/rose because that shit never leaves you.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

in terms of fic i already started posting, there's my one terror WIP with amnesiac tozer that i swear i WILL finish one day... and same goes for my good omens music & lyrics AU, which i fully expect to pick back up and finish off when i inevitably return to the fandom for series 2.

as far as stuff that never made it out of drafts, i started a hodgson-centric fic a few weeks ago that i got like 4k into before realizing i need to seriously refine my approach. so hopefully after exe fest i will get around to that!

16) What are your writing strengths?

well i am funny. so i've got that going for me. other than that ummmm i don't know. i don't think of myself as a particularly good or strong writer bc i really am just here for a laff. i think i can turn a phrase well and get the most out of imagery; i'm good at coming up with compelling story concepts and weird gimmicks, i guess?

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

i fundamentally don't know or understand how People Actually Act And Feel so i have a hard time getting realistic or interesting reactions and conflicts out of characters. my plots (when my stories have them at all) are very powered by external events, i wouldn't call myself a character-driven writer by any means. for the same reasons i struggle with voice and dialogue beyond superficial signposting via vocabulary/syntax. also, sustaining a long story/finding enough Stuff To Happen to fill it up/having the patience to keep writing... is something i need to work on for sure.

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i'm a lame american who only speaks english so honestly i don't really have thoughts!

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

i distinctly remember hand-writing in my notebook two or three pages worth of a story about what happened to the main precog in "minority report" after watching the movie when i was like seven. the first fandom i actually wrote fic for and posted it online was probably doctor who circa 2010 ish? but my warrior cats RP career predates that by a few years and i did a LOT of writing there. oh warriorsforest39 dot proboards dot com you are missed....

20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

SEX GHOST AU! SEX GHOST AU!

tagging folks :))) @laissezferre @titleleaf @theburialofstrawberries @girdedheraround @flanneryoconnorfanfiction @wreathedwith if u want!!

[levi-supreme]

Z E K … and Y

for the qsk gam hehehehe

OMG Suki don't think I didn't see the sneaky Zeke in your ask and the Y for Yeager -_- also, disclaimer: verbal diarrhoea strikes again because you're sending me questions that requires long answers XD

Z: Is there a story you’ve written that doesn’t seem to get much love?

Honestly I feel like a lot of my writing deserves more love *sobs* but ANYWAY. I'll just talk about a few of them haha, those with low notes and those I love but didn't do as well as I expected.

First off!! Those with low notes!!! I have 'Petrichor', 'Lost and Found', and my Levi x virgin fem!reader one-shot. I get why people wouldn't like 'Petrichor', because tbh I felt like it lack something attractive that would capture the attention of others. As for 'Lost and Found'... maybe because Levi was a little ooc, so people didn't like it? And tbh I really expected that nsfw one shot to do better but oh well. People have preferences xD

And as for writing that I really love but didn't do as well as I expected, definitely 'Levi's Valentine' haha. Maybe because it's a multi-chaptered fic, so people don't really wanna keep up? Tbh my chapters for this series were kind of long, so I get that not many people want to read 4k words after a long day of work or something.

But I really put a lot of heart and soul and feelings into writing Levi's Valentine because it's something personal to me and idk, I just feel kinda sad that it didn't do as well as I expected it to be. Is it the high school au? Or a Japanese setting that no one could relate to? Or the way I wrote the fic just wasn't attractive enough? Idk. Hahaha.

E: What character do you identify with most?  Is there a certain fic of yours that captures these qualities particularly well?

Answered here but the answer is Levi XD I feel like I really relate to Levi best and I feel the most comfortable in writing for him. I'll write and produce content for Levi for as long as I live ❤

K: Do you have a guilty pleasures in fic (reading or writing)?

HAHAHAHHAHA. I'll answer for both reading and writing.

I love reading fics of Levi in established relationships, because that's what I always write in my fics as well. Also, the good old (childhood) friends to lovers always gets me. And vanilla smut. I hate dark content and I never read them unless it's something I like (maybe some uhh, light bsdm I guess lmao).

And as for writing HAHAHA. I don't know how many of you people can tell, but I base all my Levi x reader writing on me. So yup, I don't picture Levi with a 'reader' or a 'character', I picture Levi with me in all my fics of him, just that reader has no physical description. I guess this is my guilty pleasure and biggest indulgence 🤭

Y: What are your thoughts on your personal satisfaction with something you’ve written vs. the popularity of your stories?  Do you tend to be most satisfied with your most popular stories?

WELL. Hahaha. My most popular work here is actually a headcanon of Levi falling in love with you at first sight. I posted this at 5am (lol) and somehow so many people liked it haha. It glad you all love flustered Levi like how I do!!

On AO3 however, 'For the First Time' actually got the most hits!! This piece is something really personal to me and the fact that people on AO3 liked it is making me very proud and joyful hehe.

I love these two pieces of writing in different ways but yes!! I'm very satisfied with them ^_^ I'm not the most satisfied with them, but yes these two works make me proud.

Fanfic writer ask meme!

[soopersara]

I just realized you have changed Only by starlight into a series. I’m excited for moreeee. It’s the fic that i obsessed over for weeks. I love your characterization, it’s spot on and the ANGST tho. I love each of it

Awww, thank you!!! I'm so glad that you enjoy the story!!!

And yes, I did create a series for it! I had some pretty elaborate ideas about how Zutara's lives would continue to play out beyond the end of the main fic, and there was enough interest in the comments that I decided to go ahead and commit to at least a few follow-up oneshots. I'm not planning on writing anything super long (because I really want to get back to focusing on my main WIP, which I adore, and which I updated this morning 😉, and anything bigger than that would take more time than I think I want to commit to), and I can't promise to post anything soon or to update regularly, but... I've written something like 4k words for the first follow-up at this point? So... maybe I'll have something to show for it sooner than I'm expecting.

I don't know how well the mood of the sequels will follow the mood of the original, since I mostly have fluff ideas (with a side of hurt/comfort, obviously, because of Zuko's situation, and also the fact that the oneshot I've been working on comes immediately after the final chapter of ObS), but at the moment, I have 5 rough ideas that I want to explore a little - mostly dealing with further healing and family and such - and a possible 6th if I decide that I want to dig my claws into something more serious (the actual end of the war, which would have to play out very differently because... well, everything). And at a guess, I'd say that I'll have a completed draft of the first oneshot within the next few weeks, then get through editing... when I can. The series is definitely becoming a side project at this point, but I am making decent progress on it anyway!

Thank you again, anon! Your message really made me smile!!!

[thoushallnotfall]

Blood and Water - Part 7

Previous // Masterlist

Pairing: (poly) The Lost Boys x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Notes: So this update got away from me and then it really took a turn....wasn't expecting where this ended up. Also, man we got some tone changes that'll give you whiplash; but I am a slave to the writing muses my dudes. I go where I am taken. (I have also discovered writing Michael in non-life-threatening suffering is my greatest joy in life; it's just good clean fun? I am Marko?)

Again, this chapter doesn't get as far as I planned, but I'm preeeetty sure I can still finish it in the next update...I think. (Again: may do a bonus chapter post story, have yet to decide on that yet...we shall see)

Warnings: I mention some NSFW stuff, but it's like, kind of just discussed, not like, anything that actually happens in the update. It's all talk and no action, if you will. No actual NSFW acts occur; don't get your hopes up. 👍

"So, like...all of them?" Michael asks, looking confused. The two of you were sitting on the couch in the cave while you talked. Star had taken Laddie back to bed, while the boys wandered the cave, giving you and Michael space to talk.

"Yes Mike, all of them." You reply, rolling your eyes. There's a long pause as he considers your answer.

"But, like...all of them? Like--like all four of them? Together? At once?" He repeats, concern and judgement mixed in his voice.

"Yes Michael: all four of them." You reiterate, getting annoyed.

"I just, I don't--I don't understand." He admits.

"Clearly." You jab. "What's not to get? I like all four of them, so I'm with all four of them. It's really not that hard."

"And they're just fine with that? Sharing you?" He asks, aghast. "And you're cool with just getting--what, passed around?"

"Hey, I didn't criticize you when you decided to stalk some hot chick and then sleep with her after you talked to her once for five minutes; so don't give me crap for my life choices okay?" You snap.

"You kind of did though, actually." He points out

"Teasing is not criticism Michael; you big baby." You stick your tongue out at him. You stare each other down until you both bust out laughing. Once you quiet down, he suddenly shivers.

"This is still just too weird." He says. "How did it even happen?"

"Beats me; it kind of just...did? We've never actually made anything, like, 'official' but you saw all that earlier so, I guess it is?" You shrug.

"It's bizarre; like how did this happen to you of all people?" He asks. "I mean, you remember that time in middle school when that boy asked you out and you got so scared you kicked him in the shin and ran off? Then you were so embarrassed you faked mono so mom would let you stay home from school for a week." He asked you, smiling. You flush.

"Mike! Seriously? You don't have to bring that up now!" You say, punching his arm.

"I'm just saying, you don't exactly have the strongest track record with guys--so how in the world did you suddenly whined up with four boyfriends?" He asks.

"Because she's amazing that's how." Paul sneaks up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and bombarding your cheek with playfully kisses. You laugh as you try to swat him away. Michael looks on, disgusted.

"Oh boy, if this bothers you Mikey; you just wait until you hear what Paul thinks about y/n when he wakes up in the mornings." Marko jokes as he walks up to stand behind Michael. "You might just try and kill him again."

"What does that me?" You ask. Marko smirks as he bites his thumb mischievously.

"Which part? The thing about hearing thoughts, or are you interested to know exactly what it is Paul's thinking about you every morning?" He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and you blush.

"Obviously the first part Marko!" You blush violently, throwing a pillow at him; which hits Michael in the face instead. Your aim never was very good. You know Marko's just teasing you to try and get a rise out of you. Clearly, it was working.

"It's not normally something we'd explain until after you'd turned, but with what happened earlier I guess we can make an exception for you, kitten." David says, coming over to join the conversation with Dwayne by his side. "We can all read each other's thoughts. Once you're one of use you'll be able to do it too."

"You're all psychically linked?" You asked. "Seriously? Doesn't that get, like, I don't know...annoying?"

"You learn to control it...tune it out." Dwayne says, with a tired smile. That is the face of a man who has had the thoughts of three lunatics alone in his head for far too long.

"Does that mean I have to listen to the four of you think about my sister? Like, all the time?" Michael looks horrified. The boys all smile.

"Like Dwayne said, you can learn control. Both on the giving and receiving end." David explains, smirking as he stands next to Michael. "So unlike you and Star--who were blasting your thoughts into our heads like a radio earlier--we could choose to be a little less invasive with our thoughts...if we wanted to." The boys all laugh at that.

Oh.

So one way the boys were planning to get back at Michael for what happened was by grossing him out. Not very mature of them, but then again when had you ever expected maturity from them? As least they hadn't killed him--that was something, right?

"Anyway, this has been a blast, really; but I should probably get home." You say, standing up.

"Aw, what? You're leaving?" Paul whines, looking at you like a sad puppy.

"Yeah, I need to take Sam home; he's still waiting outside and he's not old enough to drive. Besides, I want to go home and get ready for tonight." You fidget in place, looking down.

You were trying not to look nervous about it, but David had said it would be your turn tonight. That didn't really give you a lot of time to prepare. How did you even do that? Prepare for something like this? It was one thing to talk Michael into it to save his life, it was another thing entirely to get yourself ready for it when you know it's coming.

"Of course--a lot's happened today, and you need to look after your little brother." Dwayne says, elbowing Paul as he opens his mouth to protest.

"What are you gonna tell mom?" Michael asks. You shrug.

"Honestly? I have no idea. I hadn't really thought that far ahead yet." You answer.

"Just worry about getting some rest for today kitten; you can worry about all the details later, hmm?" David says, walking up to rub his thumb against your cheekbone. You felt your face flush at the contact.

"O-Okay." You reply, looking up at him. He smiles at you.

"Good girl. Now go on; we'll come for you tonight."

With that, the boys surround you to say their farewells--complete with good-bye kisses. Michael looks disgusted, turning away as if he was a good Christian mother watching a porno. When it's Paul's turn to say goodbye he pulls you in for an unnecessarily sloppy kiss, and half way through Michael turns to the two of you and shouts,

"Ah man, seriously? Can you not? That's disgusting! She's my sister!" The other boys all laugh.

"I told you you'd want to kill him again." Marko jokes. "Honestly that's still pretty tame by Paul's standards."

"Wait, were you thinking something dirty just now?" You ask Paul, annoyed. He smirks playfully.

"Aw babe, where's the fun in telling you what I was thinking," He leans, his breath tickling your ear. "When I could show you." He teases. You blush, pushing him away as he and the other boys laugh. Michael looks horrified.

"Paul, seriously? Knock it off!" You say. You weren't really mad; you had a feeling he was teasing you more to gross out Michael than to embarrass you, but you didn't really have time for his games. Not to mention it did feel kind of gross having them all trying to make out with you in front of Michael--that was a dynamic you were all going to have to figure out in the future.

"Aw, what's wrong baby? If you don't want Paul to play with you, maybe I could show you something instead?" Marko says, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. "I promise what I have in mind will be a lot more fun, right Mikey?" He shoots Michael a devilish grin.

"Make it stop." Michael groans, his head resting in his hands. The boys laugh as you sigh; this was going to get old fast.

"Oh enough already! I'm going home." You say, stepping out of Marko's grasp. You walk towards the exit, "Bye! I'll see you guys tonight." You say, throwing up your hand to wave goodbye without looking back.

---

You walked into the sunlight and instantly felt your strength drain. You look and see Sam sitting by the entrance to the cave, his back up against the stone as he hugged his knees to his chest. You could see that he'd been crying, and your mood instantly falls.

"Hey Sammy." You say, smiling at him. "It's time to go home." He glanced into the cave before looking back up at you, his eyes puffy.

"What about Michael?" He asks, his voice hoarse. Your smile faltered.

"Mike can't come with use right now--but he'll be home tonight!" You say, trying to sound cheerful. He stands up, looking angry.

"Because he's a vampire now--a real one! He and his girlfriend killed the Frogs, didn't they?" He asks, scowling. You stare at him.

"Yes." You finally reply.

"And it was your idea! You told those freaks to have Mike kill them!" He yells.

"To save his life Sam! They were going to kill Edgar and Alan no matter what; at least this way Michael gets to live!" You replied, looking at him with desperation in your eyes. You wanted so badly for Sam to understand you--for him to accept you and Michael--but you weren't sure if that would ever happen now.

"Yeah, whatever." He says dismissively. "Let's just go." He says, walking towards the car. You watch him go, your heart aching with every step he takes away from you.

You got Michael back, but had you lost Sam in the process?

---

The drive home had been uncomfortably silent. Sam had stared out the window the whole time, never looking at you, never trying to speak. You could hardly keep yourself upright and stable under the grueling California sun, but you managed long enough to get home. The car was barely in park before Sam was out the door and heading inside, away from you.

You head in, getting some line from your grandpa about getting gas the next time you borrow the car, and make your way upstairs. You think about trying to talk to Sam again, but decide that giving him some space would probably be better for now, and go straight to your room instead.

You set to work getting yourself ready as best you can, whatever that means. You pack a small bag of things to take with you to the cave; a few outfits, your sketch book, some books, your walkman, and a few mixed tapes. You didn't really know if you'd be moving in there full-time or what; was there even space for that? Were you supposed to sleep upside-down like a bat too? You liked sleeping in a bed. And what about other things? That was certainly a lot of couples--for lack of a better word.

Michael and Star were already having sex, and as much as they liked to joke and tease about it to mess with Michael, eventually you would probably get physically with the boys too, right? You blush, wondering if now is the best time to worry about this. But if not now, then when? When the boys can all hear your thoughts?

No thanks.

It wasn't like you were being weird for worrying about the logistics beforehand. Because it was something to worry about, right? Like, where was that supposed to be happening? On the couch? They weren't expecting you to do it in Star's nest thing, were they? Where Michael and Star were doing it? Because that seemed both evasive and gross; also very out in the open.

And that was a problem in itself; those two couldn't just keep doing it there where everyone could hear them, right? What about Laddie for crying out loud! He was just a little boy, he didn't need to hear that! You didn't need to hear that!

Maybe you could just come back here? But then your mom might be home. And it's not really that convenient to have to leave the cave every time--especially if Marko's comments about Paul's morning 'condition' ending up being true. You knew that was a typical issue for most teenage boys, so it might not just be Paul you'd have to worry about when the time came.

Had they thought about all this? Surely they must have; they're teenage boys, what else would they be thinking about? So what were they planning to do with you once you turned? Did they even really care? They didn't seem to mind humiliating Michael, but what about you? Would they really not mind embarrassing you like that? Because you were not cool just doing it wherever, in front of whoever. If you were going to live in the cave with them--and you assumed that was the arrangement--either the the communal sleeping arrangements needed to change drastically, or that just wouldn't work and you and Michael were going to have to find a way to still live at your grandpa's place. Maybe Star could even move in with Michael.

That wouldn't be as safe, given the whole sunlight business, but if you got some blackout curtains? Maybe install some shutters? And on the flip side, if your mom knew she could keep you safe during the day. Maybe it'd work?

You sigh, knowing that's a long shot if you've ever heard one. You probably should have just asked David what his plan was before you left; but you hadn't really thought about it until you had some time to yourself.

You decide you should just stop thinking about it, know you'll probably just get jerked along with whatever plan David has for you at this point anyway, and decide to take a shower before heading off to bed.

---

That night you head downstairs to find Michael in the kitchen talking to your mom.

"I'm just worried Michael, that's all." She says.

"I know mom." He says, looking over at you as you come in.

"Oh y/n sweetheart, did you sleep all day?" You mom asks, looking concerned.

"No mom, just took a nap." You say, going over to give her a quick peck on the cheek. "Hey Mike." You give your brother a quick greeting.

"Hey y/n." He replies. His eyes communicating more than his words.

They're waiting. Outside. He says, his eyes darting to the door. You nod lightly.

You coming? You give him a questioning look.

No. He gives his head the slightest of shakes.

"Hey mom, my friends are picking me up, but I'll talk to you later okay?" You say, walking toward the door.

"Oh, but hunny Max is coming over for dinner! He's been looking forward to meeting all of you." Your mom says. You give her an apologetic look.

"Mom they're already here I can't cancel now; next time, okay? I promise." You say, walking out of the kitchen.

You open the front door and see a man you vaguely recognize as the guy from the video store standing outside. He's talking to David and the boys, who are leaning against their bikes, waiting for you. You close the door and quickly make your way over to them. David glances over to you and smirks, the older man--Max, you assume--turns, all smiles as you approach.

"Ah, you must be y/n! Lucy has told me so much about you." He says, extending this hand. "I'm Max." You take it, giving David a confused look as Max firmly shakes your hand. "The boys were just telling me all about your daring rescue earlier today--it's truly something. I'm glad my boys found someone so capable. You'll make an excellent addition to the family; even if you weren't Lucy's daughter I'd be glad to have you."

"I--I'm sorry?" You ask.

"Ah, of course, you're confused. Naturally the boys haven't told you. They wouldn't; it's a secret, you see--not to be told until after you're one of us, but given your loyalty to the boys and your willingness to turn I think it's safe to let you in on it, don't you boys?" The boys all smile, but say nothing. Apparently it was a rhetorical question.

"You see, those idiot children got it wrong. Even if they had succeeded in killing David or any of the other boys it wouldn't have mattered. None of them are the head vampire. It wasn't their blood you drank; it was mine." He said, with a look you could almost describe as pride on his face. You felt your face grow pale.

"So...so you're...?"

"I'm the head vampire." He confirms.

"And...you're dating my mom?" He laughs at that.

"Yes well, you're dating my sons--all four of them, from what I hear--so perhaps we're even?" He replies, and you blush. Just how much had they told him?

"What are you going to do to her?" You ask.

"Nothing untoward I can assure you. I care about your mother very much; I want her to choose this life, just like you did. Though, now that one--soon to be two--of her children are vampires, I think it will make her choice much easier, don't you?" He says, a smirk playing on his lips. You felt a chill run down your spine. A very unfortunate thought spreads through your mind, and you push it away, forcing yourself to focus.

"What about Sam?" You question.

"He may be a hard sell after what happened today I'll give you that, but if his whole family turn--even his beloved mother--do you really think he'll stay human? Especially once he sees she's still the same person afterwards? No, I think he'll see reason, in time; once his only other option is to be alone." He answers, looking smug.

"Guess you've got it all figured out." You say. This should be for the best; your mom was happy with Max, and this way you wouldn't have to watch her grow old and die; she'd be with you forever. Maybe you could even save Sam too. But you didn't like how Max was playing games with your family instead of just being up front about it. Thinking back though, the boys had done the same to you and Michael; they hadn't been honest with you either. The irritated you all of a sudden.

Like father like sons.

"When are you planning to tell her?" You ask.

"Tonight, actually." He said. "Now that Michael's turned, and soon you as well, there's no real reason to wait. Things are going well between us, and I think she deserves to know, don't you? And that will certainly make things easier for you and your brother."

That was true, she did deserve to know. At least he was being up front with her now. And it would be easier if she knew about you and Michael.

"I would have liked for you and the boys to be there, but I understand you have more pressing business." He adds, looking at David. "Anyway, happy hunting." He says, patting your shoulder as he walks off towards the house, leaving you alone with the boys. David walks up to you.

"Ready to go, kitten?" He asks. He gets right up next to you, and you hold your hand out against his chest, stopping him from getting any closer. You shoot him a nasty glare. The thought you'd been holding back comes flooding back full force into your mind, and you couldn't wait another second to get it out.

"Did you only turn me because Max asked you to?" You accuse. David and the others look taken aback.

"What?" He scowls. "No, of course not."

"That night at the video store; after my mom came back out and starting talking to me. I thought you guys all had a silent conversation. Like Michael and I do. Like, you guys were just close and you could just pick up on each other's cues--but no, you can actually talk to each other psychically, and you can talk to Max! You bastards knew from the first night we met Max wanted my mom, and that meant he would want me too!"

"Y/N--" Marko tried to cut in.

"No! I'm not done! The next night you did it again! I saw you! When Michael said we were twins! Right?You knew that meant you'd have to get him too! So what? Were you just planning to take him back and mess with him before that? Or--god, were you going to kill him?"

"What a minute y/n, please just listen--" Dwayne tried to rest his hand on your arm and you swat him away.

"I can't believe this. Oh, oh Jesus, that first night; before my mom showed up, you wouldn't leave me alone; were you going to kill me?" You were really starting to spiral now.

"Babe, calm down we would never--" Paul starts.

"Never what? Hurt me? But you would lie to me? Like that's any better? What else have you lied about? I trusted you! I betrayed my family for you! And now I'm just supposed to be fine with you lying to me about something this important? How am I ever supposed to trust any of you again?" You were shaking, not totally aware of what was happening around you.

"Enough y/n." David grabs your trembling hands and firmly holding them in his. His icy blue eyes stared you down, forcing you to look at him. "Yes, we knew about your mom and Max. Yes, it was Max's plan to turn you and your brothers to get to your mom, but that's not why we turned you. We turned you because we wanted you, and that's all."

You stare up at him, searching his face as he scowls down at you. You looked for any sign he might be lying to you, saying what he thought you'd believe. He could be--of course he could be--but when you looked up at him you genuinely felt he meant it. Finally, you sigh, your head drooping as you rest your forehead against his chest. He lets go of your hands and wraps his arms around you.

"You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?" He says.

"I'm sorry." You murmur. He sighs.

"Well, you weren't totally wrong, we were going to kill Michael." He says with a smirk. Your head shoots up.

"What?" You shout.

"Well technically we were gonna have Star kill Michael, but that plan went out the window when you showed up." Marko corrected. "Besides, Michael's actually a pretty good time; like you said, he's fun to mess with." He adds with a mischievous smirk.

"And what about me?" You ask, stepping out of David's hold.

"Nah babe, no sense in all four of us going after just one kill; we really did just think you were hot." Paul beams at you with pride. He maybe could've worded that better, but that did make a certain amount of sense.

"We're sorry we couldn't tell you the truth sooner y/n; Max doesn't have a lot of rules, but we do have to follow the one's he's got." Dwayne apologizes to you, looking genuinely upset about the whole thing, and you suddenly feel a little bad for how you reacted.

"I guess it's okay; but no more secrets, alright? I'm serious. You guys have no more excuses now that I'm turning." You warn.

"Someone's getting bossy." David smirks as you scowl at him. You were really not in the mood for his attitude. "You haven't turned yet, kitten." He grabs your hand, leading you over to get on the back of his bike.

"Come on y/n; it's time to go."