#relieved and irritated and asking him why he chose to save him on repeat

[carn4g3]

Hi! Could u make a ticcy toby x male reader hurt/comfort-ish oneshot where the reader feels ignored in a way, like ppl dont rly care to listen to them or let them express themself? And gets comforted with words of affirmation/physical affection If that makes sense lol its ok if not tho! Have a nice day :)

Rookie Mistake | Ticci Toby x Male Reader

Summary - One of these days, you're going to give Tim a taste of his own damn medicine. But, for now, you have Toby.

TWs: Descriptions of blood, dead bodies & murder, reader has some anger issues, indirect mentions of abuse

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Tumblr kept eating this ask without my permission, I swear it disappeared at least 3 or 4 times before I finally caught it and saved it to my drafts. I rewrote sections of this a few times so lmk if something isn't as clear as I thought it was lol

"I'm supposed to do this and clean up on a solo mission?" You asked the masked man incredulously.

Tim looked less than interested in the question, a loud sigh leaving him as though you were just another chore, "You can handle that, can't you?"

His response felt more like a trap than an actual expression of concern. If you said you could, he would dismiss the rest of your complaint. On the other hand, the opposite answer would only spur him to poke further at your abilities-- like you hadn't heard from him and everyone else a million times over.

"You always have Brian with you for clean up," You chose to answer with instead, "Why don't I get someone?"

"Everyone has more important things to do than help you out, rookie." Tim scoffed.

You scowled at the nickname. It didn't take long for you to not only receive the moniker but also grow incredibly tired of it. Damn near everyone called you it now, and you were beginning to gather that the tone wasn’t always just playful teasing. People like Tim said it out of a place of superiority— thinking they were better simply because they had been around for longer.

"Really? And what important things are you doing." You scoffed in disbelief.

"Watch yourself." Tim shot back sternly.

This was hardly the first time you had fought with the man. At first, you had been pretty obedient towards all of those who took on "teaching" you. You reveled in their advice, taking their harshness as an opportunity to grow, and even enduring their verbal assault as something you would just grow used to. After months of it, you felt fortunate that your senses finally returned to you. Of course, it wasn't without the help of Toby. He fought with Tim just as much, probably even more, and he helped you realize how much of an asshole Tim really was.

"Grow a pair and do your dirty work yourself." You replied, letting the words spew out before you even really thought them over.

You could tell he was mad, fists clenched at his sides as though he was barely restraining himself from throwing a punch. The subtle shift of his mask suggested he was grinding his jaw, something he did as to not lash out fully. A normal person would be relieved, but you could only feel more irritated when he chose to be the "bigger" person. He had to have known it upset you. That was the only explanation for why he would do it.

"It's your job," Tim said tersely, "Don't do it and you'll answer to the Operator."

His tone suggested the conversation was done there. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he took a few steps back to return to whatever depths of the woods he had crawled from.

"Fuckin' asshole." You knew he hadn't missed the muttered words when his movements paused, shoulders tensing as though he were daring you to say it again.

"I said you're a fuckin asshole!" You repeated louder.

Deciding that you would be the one with the last word, you made your own exit. Glancing over your shoulder, you had hoped to see Tim still standing there-- reeling from your verbal assault. Instead, he was retreating silently just as you were.

You were exhausted-- no, beyond that. All but dragging your body through the woods, muscle memory was pretty much the only thing that got you back to the rundown cabin now sitting before you. The exterior was almost entirely dark given that the porch light had long since succumbed to the dust, cobwebs, and moss that patterned every nook and cranny of the building. Despite that, a sliver of illumination peaked its way out from between the drawn curtains just left of the doorway: the kitchen light, if you remembered correctly. Forcing your aching muscles to pull you up the creaky front steps, you reached for the doorknob. As expected it twisted with ease; the man inside never really did remember to lock it.  

Eyes falling lazily over the interior, you found that your suspicions about the light source were proved right. To your left, the dim yellow glow of the kitchen light cast a net of illumination that extended only a few feet from the room’s entryway. Shutting and locking the door behind you, you easily found the object of your interest rustling around the pantry. Loose tufts of hair and edges of dirtied, blood spattered clothes peeking out from behind the door, Toby seemed to be surveying it for options. 

"I'm home." You greeted abysmally.

"Hi." Toby replied, clearly engrossed in his task.

The kitchen space was minimal, pretty much a glorified hallway, but you managed to brush past him anyways. Settling on his right side, you let your head fall to his shoulder as you observed the sparse pantry. It had been a while since the last supply run, and it wasn't like either of you had the luxury of free time to go shopping.

"There's Doritos." You noted the party sized bag that had been folded shut.

"Yeah," Toby's body lurched, but it didn't deter you from your position for very long, "You look like sh... shit."

You sent a half assed glare his way, "So do you, dick."

You didn't even need to fully take in the other man's appearance to gather that much. Just like you, he had come right from a mission. Dried mud clung stubbornly to the notches of his boots, the particles of which were undoubtedly spread all over the floors by now. From your close proximity, he reeked of sweat, BO, and blood-- all of which you had long grown accustomed to.

Although, you weren’t in any position to pass judgement. Perhaps more blood stained than your counterpart, you could feel the mostly dried sticky substance clinging to the front of your clothing. Splattered and messy, it stained your hands, caked under your nails, and hid in the creases of your skin. You were sure some of it still gently dotted your face as well-- all mixed with sweat and dirt.

"How'd it g-go?" He chose to ignore your insult in favor of asking the question.

"Fine," You answered bluntly, "You?"

Thinking over the previous events, it wasn’t entirely a lie. Killing the victim had been easy. A hardly athletic, 30-something year old man glued to his computer, it was easy to attack him from behind and send him helplessly to the floor with a single hit. You wouldn't admit it, but it was partially intentional that the first hit didn't even knock him out properly. Seeing him crawl away in futile desperation only spurred you to strike him a second time. Then a third. If you had to guess, he probably expired somewhere between the fourth and the sixth strike.

It was cathartic in a way, picturing the pathetic corpse before you as the remains of the masked bastard who had ordered you there in the first place. You were certainly less than gentle with the body as you went about hiding it, taking some creative liberties in the disposal method. Though, it came to bite you in the ass when you began to embark on the several mile journey back into the woods, shoulders and legs aching from the effort before you even started.

"Fine." Toby echoed, "Got what I-- shit!-- nee-needed."

"Nice." You sighed, too tired to ask anymore questions as you turned your attention to the bag of chips.

Plucking them off the shelf, you turned swiftly to the darkened living room on your left. Though it would have been easy to flick on the light switch just adjacent to the pantry, you opted to throw your body onto the awaiting sofa instead. Knowing the couch had been through far worse, you hardly perturbed by the thought of blood and dirt sticking to the already stained fabric. Toby, as expected, was just as uninterested in maintaining the couch’s cleanliness or in illuminating the room as he trailed in just behind you. Taking a seat in the relatively small gap between your body and the left arm rest, he looked down at you expectantly as you ruffled through the bag of chips.

"You g-gonna share?" Rolling your eyes at the question, you grabbed a handful before shoving the rest of the bag into the other man’s lap.

"What'd you ha-- have to do anyway?" Toby asked, the bag crinkling loudly as took some chips for himself.

"Kill and clean up." You answered.

Toby paused at that, "By yourself?"

"Blame that fucker with the mask." You didn't even need to clarify which one, both of you knowing exactly whom you were referring to.

"C-course," He scoffed, "that asshole."

"That's what I told him, said he shouldn't make his fuckin' dirty work my problem." Your teeth grit together at the memory.

"Should've told me, we could... could've switched." He replied.

"No," You responded a bit harsher than you intended, "Wouldn't fuckin change that he thinks I'm some weak little bitch who can't do anything for myself. They all think I'm some fuckin’ dumbass! And for what? Because Slender chose them first? It's bullshit! None of it makes them better..."

You let the rant spill from your lips as you felt that simmering rage from earlier finally boil over. 

Without realizing it, your hand clenched around the remaining chips in your hand, causing them to crumble into an array of pieces across your palm. Feeling the pieces poke at your skin and the dust becoming intermixed with the already sticky concoction of sweat and blood, you felt yourself become even more disgruntled. 

"Fuck!" You cursed, throwing the remains aimlessly into the dark room, "I wanna wring that fucker's neck."

Wiping your hand aggressively against your clothes, you found no reprieve from the uncomfortable sensation even as you felt the skin turning raw from the repeated movements.

"It would do the w-world a fuckin' fa... favor." Toby's voice joined in once more.

Turning your gaze in his direction, you waited silently for Toby to say more. Instead, you were only met with the sight of a triangular chip dangling over your face. A bit confused at first, you reached out hesitantly to take it. Just as fingers started to brush it, he abruptly pulled it away as though it were simply some sort of taunt. Finally realizing what he wanted, you parted your lips, waiting as Toby finally dropped the chip into your awaiting mouth.

"Thanks." You replied, already forgetting about whatever it was that had just upset you.

He grunted in acknowledgement, returning to the previous topic instead, "I wouldn't rec-recommend trying it. He'll si-sick his real bitch on you."

You couldn't help the small snort that left you. He was talking about Brian, of course. You hadn't thought the hooded man was all too bad initially. Brian was pretty nice to you, from what you remembered. Though, it did help that he very rarely spoke– unlike his counterpart. You had no clue what he saw in Tim to hang around him so frequently, but it only took a small push from Toby for you to hate Brian as well. 

"Fuckin' coward." You commented. 

Eating the rest of the chip you were handed, the two of you sat in relative silence for a moment. Turning your gaze towards Toby once more, you watched as he absentmindedly ate. With his faceguard pulled down around his neck, you had a full view of the opening in his cheek: the strands of saliva that formed across the opening, his teeth gnashing at the chip, and drool involuntarily pooling at the corner. He usually made it a habit to not eat around others, so you couldn’t help but be mesmerized every time you got a rare look at it. You didn’t even realize he noticed your staring until another chip was thrust unceremoniously over your vision. 

“Something on my face?” Toby asked.

“Nah.” You averted your gaze quickly, feeling your face heat after having been caught.

“Yeah right, creep.” He muttered, the words mostly playful.

You weren’t allowed a response as he shoved the awaiting chip into your mouth the second you opened it. Letting him take the win on this one, you fell back into the cozy moment. Despite the loud crinkling of the bag and the usual creaks and groans of the old building, you could feel that itch of tension slowly melting away as it always did when you were around Toby. You liked spending time with him for that reason.

Admittedly, you hadn’t thought he was much different from the likes of Tim or Brian at first. He talked more than the latter but was only a little less harsh than the former. But, unlike the other two, you steadily warmed up to him. You were both the new guys, relatively younger than any of the proxies or Slender’s other allies. It felt easier to express your frustrations to him, to trust the advice he gave you, and to see the underlying compliments in what was usually admonishment from anyone else. It was an easy decision once you were finally granted Slenderman’s full trust as a proxy to move into this rundown cabin you had spent many nights before. Consumed by your thoughts, you didn’t notice the way Toby was attempting to get your attention until he outright flicked the center of your face

"Ow,” You hissed, “What was that for?”

"You're far." He replied.

"I'm right next to you." You scoffed.

"You know wh-- what I f... fuckin' mean." Despite the way he matched your tone, he turned his gaze away as though he were embarrassed.

It was endearing how he got flustered whenever asking you for affection. Though, you suppose you forced him to the point of reaction just for your own interest sometimes. Shifting your body against the couch, you slid towards Toby until your head rested comfortably against his thigh.

"Happy?" You teased him.

"Little sh-shit." He hissed, though still gave you another chip as though it were some reward.

As you chewed on it in stride, Toby spoke once more, "None... none of them know what they're ta- talking about. They're all-- shit!-- stuck with their heads up... up their ass."

You huffed in amusement, though didn't find yourself too moved by the words, "And they're in charge."

"Not f-forever," Toby scoffed, "Slender will grow ti-tired of them soon. Then they-- fuck-- they'll be beg-begging us for their lives."

Now that thought was appeasing to you, "Yeah, and we'll make those assholes pay."

Toby's hand moved to your hair, ruffling it in agreement with those words, "Damn right."

Described this to my roommate as: Hurt/comfort but the reader has been trained like a dog.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

First of all, I just want to say. I called it lol

Finally an sskk face off since the sacrifice. I am going insane. I can’t articulate all my thoughts rn but something about the way Atsushi aimed a kick at Akutagawa that he fully expected the guy to block (because they know each other’s usual fighting styles!!!) only for it to connect and hurt him; Atsushi begging Akutagawa to recognize him because even if he still can’t consciously admit it, Atsushi has become convinced that Akutagawa wouldn’t be attacking him like this if he knew it was him; pleading for him to snap out of it and demanding to know why he saved him aghhhhh I’m going feral we know the reason Atsushi we know whyyyyy

I can’t believe it actually. We are at the point where sskk do not want to genuinely hurt each other. Atsushi attacked only out of self defence and was taken aback by actually breaking his wrist. Akutagawa refused to kill Atsushi in the Fukuchi fight and Atsushi is now convinced he’d stop attacking if he recognized him. Holy shit. Oh my god.

And Sigma badass moment! My boy, he pulled through! Either him or Chuuya had to break the stalemate; hell yeah, validation. Wasn’t there a meme someone made? “Prison arc -> prison arc if Sigma still had a gun”? Well Sigma’s got a gun and things are picking up babyyyy! His retort to Fyodor was quite possibly the funniest thing he could’ve said in response. Just completely shut him down. Using what he’s learned running the empty home Fyodor previously tried to buy his trust with. Beautiful. ADA Sigma real??? (I think the story will have to acknowledge his very public involvement with Taneda’s shooting and the acts of terrorism the Hunting Dogs now know he is responsible for… so I’m not sure how that will go but I’d like to see him end up with the Agency tbh… so long as it makes sense.)

Things I did not expect:

Mysterious note left in Russian??? It could be Mykola I suppose but… why? What happened? If he’s actually in trouble I doubt he’d need help escaping. Is it a trap? But what for? Alternatively… could it be Pushkin? He was in Meursault initially right? We never found out what his connection was. It could be a new Russian author too! Intriguing! There’s also the matter of it being written in Russian in the first place - who is it meant for? Sigma specifically? Or is it meant for someone else who speaks Russian?

Dazai is actually injured! I was certain he had something ready to get out on his own but I like this much better. Tbh I know this sounds bad but I’m actually way more invested now that Dazai has a broken leg and Fyodor was just shot. There’s higher stakes, you know? Damn though. I think Dazai’s injuries are. Worse. He’s being terribly self-sacrificial, and is apparently going to face off against Chuuya next time we see him. I do think now the stakes would be too low if Chuuya was completely free of the brainwashing tbh… I’m hoping for a double “I know you’re in there” fight between skk and sskk. Not that Dazai can do much physically but his strength has always been with words anyways, and I am certain Chuuya’s already fighting back. And I know Atsushi will reach Akutagawa. Manifesting sskk reunion where they challenge Fukuchi again and win this time via the power of unbreakable trust (delusional).

Sigma asks Fyodor “WHAT are you?” Which is interesting, and I’m hoping will acknowledge the way Fyodor doesn’t seem to age… but also intriguing is the “getting closer” part on the side which implies he’s not quite right. I think Fyodor will still turn out to be human tbh (it’d be weird otherwise, thematically), but now I’m starting to lend a little more weight to that theory about a Fyodor double…

Well anyways. This was a lot. I’m going to helplessly whir about it for a bit now.

[arigatouiris]

bereft // tomioka giyuu

Author’s Note: I absolutely adore Tomioka Giyuu. Especially with the way he’s written, the insecurities play out so well, it’s just beautiful. And I like writing angst because he’s just so easy to hurt (oh my god). There are spoilers for the manga in this one, so watch out!

Word count: 4680

Pairing: Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Warnings: angst, pining, one-sided love, hurt/comfort, spoilers for the manga

❝

It wasn’t as if Tomioka Giyuu didn’t believe in love. 

There were many reasons as to why his childhood was so important to him. He had left behind parts of him that he didn’t have the strength to carry ahead in life: the warmth that reminded him of his sister, the playfulness he felt with Sabito, the sibling care he felt with Makomo, or the love he felt for (y/n).

As a child, people often brushed off the thoughts of love or attachment, saying that it wasn’t exactly too serious or it wasn’t actually ‘love’. But, with Giyuu, things were different.

Even as a child, Tomioka Giyuu felt things too intensely. It was perhaps a trait he had inherited because it was the same with his sister as well. His sister taught him not to hide from love, that love was the only thing binding them all together. Love worked in mysterious and fascinating ways, teaching you to constantly better your best and improve in ways one never thought possible. Giyuu was always fascinated with the way his sister spoke about love, on its various forms, on how the idea was contorted with time and age.

It was with (y/n), a fellow orphan who was living with Urokodaki, did Giyuu feel it for the first time. Ever since losing his sister, he held on to the idea of love that she left behind—it was all he had.

But, it felt like destiny with Giyuu; to love people he could never have.

(y/n) (s/n) was evidently infatuated with Sabito, and it was something not only Giyuu or Makomo noticed, but Sabito had as well. As tough as he was with people he would train with, with (y/n), he would show his softer sides, offering her more of his calm smiles, and sweet touches. Giyuu often found them talking to each other in a private space, with Sabito’s eyes firmly fixed on her shy form. All Giyuu could do was watch from a distance, swallowing stones, easing his tumultuous soul. He wondered what his sister would tell him then, about what he was feeling and why loving (y/n) made him feel so alone.

Perhaps, because he felt so lonely, Giyuu had his own theories as to why this love felt so painful. Maybe he was destined to forever fall in love with people he couldn’t have. Maybe there’s a whole assortment of impossible people waiting for him to find them. Waiting to make him feel the same impossibility over and over again. 

     “Tomioka-kun!” (y/n) looked excited that morning.

Giyuu blinked before turning to her, butterflies in his stomach as he noticed her shiny eyes and warm smile. He instantly looked around for Sabito, wondering where he was. Makomo was inside, helping Urokodaki with breakfast. 

     “(s/n),” Giyuu responded, his voice breaking out of embarrassment. He wasn’t used to speaking to her, despite knowing her for almost a year. “Good morning.”

(y/n) plopped herself beside Giyuu, who was taking a break from practicing his swordsmanship. His face reddened as she sat down, before trying to look away. But, he couldn’t. She was far too gorgeous to turn away from. 

     “Good morning. Were you practicing?” 

Giyuu nodded, his blush intensifying. “Where’s Sabito?”

     “He said he’s foraging for some vegetables. I wanted to join him, but he brushed me off.” (y/n) pouted as she said this.

Giyuu felt his heart ache at the sight of her blushing, pouting face. All these expressions would never be directed toward him, and it wasn’t as if he was jealous of Sabito—that wasn’t the case at all, Giyuu adored and respected Sabito more than anyone else. However, these emotions he had for (y/n) were conflicting. Just as his name was mentioned, the peach haired boy walked toward them, Giyuu’s eyes widened at Sabito’s calm smile.

     “Giyuu,” He turned to (y/n), “(y/n), let’s go eat.” 

(y/n) stood up instantly before frowning at Sabito, who merely chuckled and patted her head. Giyuu couldn’t admit it, but the two of them together made so much sense. Sabito’s kindness and (y/n)’s gentle nature fit together perfectly, it was as if they were sent to Urokodaki just so that they could meet. Even though they were both set on becoming demon slayers, their togetherness was a fact set on stone.

     “You look pale, did you sleep well?” Sabito’s voice was soft, and Giyuu turned away. 

(y/n) giggled, “Of course! You worry so much, Sabito-kun.”

Sabito smiled. His smiles always felt like home. 

That evening, Sabito and Giyuu were training together. Makomo and (y/n) were off practicing their breathing techniques, and while the two boys were training, Sabito found it a tad bit easier to beat Giyuu to the ground when compared to other days. Cocking an eyebrow, the peach-haired boy knew something was occupying his friend’s mind.

     “Is something wrong?” He didn’t bother hiding the concern in his voice.

Giyuu couldn’t meet his eye. What would he say? That he was in love with the same girl Sabito was in love with? After how kind Sabito was, there was no way Giyuu could even hope for such selfishness. Sabito stepped closer to Giyuu, before offering him a hand. Giyuu looked up at Sabito, who was smiling softly at his friend. Giyuu’s hesitance confirmed his suspicions.

Sabito pulled his friend to a standing position before leading him to the waterfall nearby. Turning to his friend, he sent him a mocking smile before rushing away from Giyuu, who blinked in retaliation.

     “Are you going to take all day to reach the top?” Sabito mocked.

Giyuu grinned before following after his friend, and the two of them engaged in a playful race—which, Sabito had won easily.

     “Is it about (y/n)?” Sabito asked, his voice low.

Giyuu didn’t answer. He couldn’t even meet his friend’s eye.

     “Do you love her, Giyuu?” Sabito asked, no anger or hurt in his voice. 

Giyuu shut his eyes, unhappy with the circumstance he was in. 

     “I’m sorry—”

     “Every time you reveal your feelings, you apologize,” Sabito sounded a bit irritated at this now. “Have you never had an emotion in your life that you weren’t ashamed of?”

Giyuu’s eyes widened and he looked up at his friend’s scowl. Sabito’s anger wasn’t raging hot; it was a warm winter fire, comforting and honest. Giyuu felt his eyes tear up at the presence of his friend’s radiance. Sabito’s scowl vanished a second later, and a soft smile replaced his features. A sad smile, which revealed nothing in words yet the truth had been spoken.

     “We don’t choose who we love, Giyuu,” Sabito said, looking at his friend in the eye. “I’m truly very sorry—”

     “You have nothing to apologize for!” Giyuu fought back, brushing off Sabito’s hands.

Sabito chuckled before leading him away from the falls, the conversation was enough to let Giyuu know to accept his feelings rather than run from them. For as long as Sabito was around, there was nothing Giyuu had to feel ashamed of. Even if he was in love with the same girl his best friend was in love with.

*

There was nothing but distraught in Giyuu’s eyes as he watched Makomo being eaten. Sabito stared in horror at the sight, (y/n) and Giyuu closely behind him. The other children were a bit away, not having had the misfortune of facing the hand demon, at whose hands (y/n) was sure they would face their death.

     “Sabito, we can’t... We can’t save her—”

     “Giyuu,” Sabito said, his voice low. The rage of a calm man was often terrifying and right then, Sabito’s rage was no winter fire.

Sabito’s rage right then was of an angry lion, hungry and devoid of shelter, in pursuit of blood. 

     “Giyuu,” He repeated again, ignoring (y/n)’s shaking form, “Take (y/n) and run.”

     “N-No!” (y/n) responded first, grabbing onto Sabito’s hand, while he simply pushed her away.

Giyuu couldn’t believe what his friend was even suggesting. His eyes traveled to (y/n)’s form, shaking and afraid, her eyes displaying the terror that had unfolded on them at the moment. 

     “This is the only way, Giyuu. Please,” Sabito turned to his friend before offering him the same smile, “Protect her for me.”

(y/n) and Giyuu’s eyes widened at his words. She turned to look at Giyuu who didn’t meet her gaze before tears filled her eyes. She jumped at Sabito, who stood there like a log and held on to him for dear life.

     “S-Sabito-kun, I can’t... Please, I don’t know what I’d do without you—”

Turning to her, he placed a calm hand on her cheek before saying, “You will live. You will pass this test and become a demon slayer. You will avenge your family. You will make another. (y/n), if loving you has taught me anything, then it is that you are stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

She shook her head. There was no way she would leave him. If it meant getting eaten, then she would be eaten alongside him. She couldn’t—

Sabito turned to Giyuu one last time and nodded. Giyuu knew what he had to do. He jabbed at the nape of her neck and she instantly fell to the ground, Giyuu catching her on time. Sabito smiled one last time at his best friend; a sad smile, a relieved smile—a smile that said ‘thank you’.

*

When Giyuu took (y/n) out of the forest, he had let go of his sister’s ideology of love back there as well. He turned to the unconscious girl in his arms, who’s consciousness would only give her more grief. Sabito was gone, there was no going back from there. Placing the girl on the ground, Giyuu tapped her cheek a couple of times, his eyes devoid of emotion, the light in his face gone, the warmth in his heart, lost.

When she came to, the first thing she whispered was Sabito’s name. Giyuu felt a monstrous sort of grief wrap around him, a grief he couldn’t show. He blamed himself, he blamed how weak he was, he grieved over how Sabito chose the lives of everyone else before his own, he grieved over how bereft he felt now that his best friend was gone, and he grieved over giving (y/n) the same grief. In a way, Giyuu felt, he had stolen Sabito’s life from her, leaving her devoid of a life Sabito would have been more than happy to give her. He would take it if she was angry at him, even if she would push him away, even if she would never talk to him again.

Loving her meant letting her go, and he had understood that way before Sabito had sacrificed himself.

     “Tomioka-kun?”

It had once pained his heart that he was always ‘Tomioka’ while Sabito was just ‘Sabito’. But now, he felt a wicked sort of relief. He stared at her with no emotion in his face, and the mere expression he bore repeated the truth to her once again. Tears filled her eyes and she cried, loudly and as if her heart was breaking one more time.

He watched her cry, not having the heart to do the same. Perhaps, it was shock that didn’t let Giyuu cry that night. Urokodaki even wondered if the boy would ever let himself feel again.  

Two days later, (y/n) approached him as he trained. Their swords were yet to arrive, and in those two days, Giyuu hadn’t spoken a word to either (y/n) or Urokodaki. The old man told (y/n) to leave him to his own; people grieved differently. Urokodaki knew of (y/n)’s relationship with Sabito and knew that both children were facing a different sort of pain that he knew nothing about. 

     “Tomioka... No,” Giyuu paused his training but didn’t look at her, “Giyuu,”

He looked at her now, still feeling a hum of the same heartache she would always make him feel. She looked worried, a worried expression he was not used to seeing on her, which gave him more grief than satisfaction.

     “C-Can we talk?”

Giyuu didn’t want to. If it was about Sabito, he had said everything he had to say. But, he couldn’t push her away. If there was anyone in the world who understood his grief, then it was (y/n). Sabito had slapped him long ago, a slap Giyuu had now forgotten with Sabito’s death. 

Suddenly, his eyes widened. (y/n)’s hand was placed firmly against his cheek, the same cheek Sabito had slapped, and he saw tears in her eyes.

     “You’re grieving,” She said, her voice breaking. “And I’m so sorry—”

He pulled away, his eyes narrowing at her approach, “What are you even sorry for? I should be the one—”

He stopped himself before he said too much. He winced at his own words that had slipped without his command and went back to training as if nothing had happened. (y/n) stood there, in shock, meeting his grief face to face but not having the power to drive it away. She was not Sabito, only he knew how to approach Giyuu.

     “I’m sorry I never saw it.” She whispered as she walked away, not saying another word to him.

As Giyuu clenched his jaw, he wondered if he would ever see her again. He wondered each day after that, if (y/n) would remember who he was, if (y/n) would ever get over the death of his best friend. He wondered day in and day out over random things—about what she was doing, if she was still a demon slayer, if she was married.

Six years passed. And then another two. And not a day went by when Giyuu didn’t think of (y/n). 

He thought of the way she held his cheek that day, and he thought of the thousand different ways he had hoped he responded. But, he had pushed her away, albeit harshly, over a grief both of them shared.

*

The next time (y/n) saw Giyuu Tomioka was in between a mission. (y/n) had just completed it, and was returning to the butterfly estate. She noticed the haori and her heart’s pace quickened. The person was walking away from her, and she rushed toward them, grabbing the male by the shoulder and turning them around.

Her wide (e/c) eyes met his ocean blue ones. Upon seeing her, Giyuu’s eyes widened as well, before her name flew out of his lips like a charm.

     “G-Giyuu... Is... Is that really you?” (y/n)’s voice was different from before, it was more refined, womanlike.

Giyuu’s heart rate was escalating at a very rapid pace, but he was a master of breathing now; he calmed himself down as if nothing had occurred and greeted her casually.

     “Yes. It’s been very long, (y/n).” He could now speak her name without being torn in half.

She smiled at him before taking a good long look at his features. Giyuu had always been a cute boy, but now he was grown up—handsome and elegant, he reminded her nothing of the boy he used to be.

     “You look well.” She said, gleefully.

He nodded, “So do you.”

And then it got awkward. She could sense it, he was still grieving—having had no outlet to let out his emotions. Sabito’s death, at one point, destroyed her life but it was because of the love she had for him did she keep going on. She fought hard and became a demon slayer, reaching the rank of Kinoto. Meeting Giyuu again, relieved her—knowing he was safe, and it gave her a sense of home.

Without thinking, she stepped forward and embraced him, tears streaming from her face at the thought of everything they had been through, as Giyuu stood there, unmoving. He didn’t even need her coming to him for him to realize he still had feelings for her. He knew it all along. He had never stopped loving her. However, there was no way he could ever allow himself to tell her what he was feeling. No one could know because it didn’t matter.

     “Will you eat lunch with me?” She asked, tilting her head and smiling the same smile Giyuu had fallen so strongly in love with all those years ago.

He couldn’t help but return half of her smile. She was warm, like the sun, and somehow—Giyuu knew he had missed everything about her. The two of them headed to a small stall that sold noodles, and the two demon slayers sat down before (y/n) turned to the owner of the stall.

     “Sir, by any chance, do you have daikon?” 

Giyuu’s eyes widened as he turned to face her.

     “We have them fresh, ma’am! Would you like some?” The owner of the stall replied, courteously.

(y/n) smiled back before saying, “Could you please serve fresh daikon with some simmered salmon?”

Giyuu’s face reddened, and he found fighting the smile that was threatening to embrace his features was harder than fighting demons. (y/n) turned to him and grinned, before sitting back down beside him.

     “You still like it, don’t you?”

Giyuu didn’t say anything.

     “You used to love a fresh plate. You would always—”

     “You remembered.” Giyuu said, now looking directly at her.

She nodded, “Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

She had no reason to. She was in love with Sabito. He was nothing but a friend. He was—

     “You were family.” She whispered. 

     “I’m sorry,” (y/n) turned to look at him, “For Sabito. For everything—”

     “You did the right thing, Giyuu,” she said, her eyes warm. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

The two of them ate, exchanging pleasantries, (y/n) laughing and being shy over things she now revealed she liked. She told him of some of her adventures and was shocked in hearing he was now a Hashira. 

     “You’re a Hashira? Should I bow to you?”

Giyuu merely stared at her face, unimpressed.

     “Such a cold stare...” She said, backing away.

He wouldn’t admit it, but everything about her now made him feel lightheaded. He found himself opening up little by little, and perhaps the fact that he knew her well long before helped him in shedding off the formalities with her now. (y/n), as she claimed, was like family. They trained together, used the same techniques, knew each other’s weaknesses and strengths and even favorite foods.

They were walking back to the butterfly estate together after that, and their conversations still didn’t end. He found himself telling her about Kamada Tanjiro and his sister, knowing she would keep it a secret. She was impressed that Giyuu had placed his life on the line for someone else, a hidden kindness only she knew he had possessed.

     “You truly impress me,” She said, looking at him. Giyuu blinked in confusion, “You really do.”

     “How?”

     “You are so kind, Giyuu, you don’t even see it.”

Giyuu didn’t agree. He turned away and looked at the ground, not willing to accept what she had said. If anyone was kind it was her—talking to him despite everything that had happened. If anyone was kind, it was Sabito—who had sacrificed his own life to save everyone else.

     “I’m not kind.” He responded, coldly.

A warm hand wrapped itself around his wrist, and Giyuu paused. He turned to look at her hand and then looked at her, unaware of what to say. She shook her head before her hand reached downwards, encircling around his hand now, grabbing his fingers. Giyuu resisted the urge to hold her hand, but she somehow sensed his hesitance. She forced herself inside and held his hand tighter until she felt him hold her back.

     “(y/n)—”

     “You always would give yourself such less credit,” She said, her voice a mere whisper. “Even Sabito-kun found it strangely depressing.”

He felt his heart clench at her words. Guilt washed over him. There was nothing he could say to that. However, his hand was now firmly holding hers, and he liked the contact. He didn’t know what he was missing until she had shown him. 

When the two of them reached the butterfly estate, Giyuu was glad Shinobu Kochou was not around. Not that he disliked her, it was, in fact, the opposite, but he was afraid if his resurfacing feelings for (y/n) were evident. He didn’t want her smug face rubbing it in any further than it had already sunk in.

They were to stay there until further notice—demons were plaguing the land, and a mission was not far. Giyuu enjoyed this time with (y/n), speaking to her every day, even going as far as training with her.  

     “Your form is still incorrect.” He scolded her, a soft smirk on his features.

     “This will do.” She said, ambitiously, before Giyuu toppled her to the ground.

He moved away from her and let out a chuckle, before earning a smack on the head. He turned to see her pout at him and his eyes widened; he turned away instantly before being reminded of an image he had almost forgotten. She would pout at Sabito a lot, and now, here was one directed at him.

     “Giyuu?” 

He cleared his throat before looking at her, a pained expression landed on his face. She noticed everything that was on his face and let out a sigh.

     “I knew,” She said.

Giyuu didn’t say anything.

     “I always knew. With the way you looked at me and spoke to me sometimes, I knew what you were feeling. I wanted you to come and tell me so that I could turn you down, but what hurt me was that you never accepted those feelings for yourself.”

     “(y/n), you were with Sabito—”

     “Yes, but there’s something called being honest with yourself. Giyuu, if you end up thinking you don’t deserve any sort of kindness in your life, any sort of happiness, just because you lost everything, you’re only punishing yourself!”

He stared at her face. He had never seen her so emotionally charged.

     “I was never... Sabito was the one who saved everyone. Sabito was the one you had your eyes on. Sabito—”

     “Sabito-kun is dead, Giyuu, and you have to accept that.” She was crying now.

     “I’m sorry, (y/n).”

She shook her head, “I’m sorry, too. You deserve so much more. You don’t even know it.”

*

(y/n) wrote Giyuu a lot of letters in the next few weeks. Giyuu rarely responded to letters, but it was (y/n), and he had almost admitted that he was in love with her. She would write to him about her days, about things she saw, people she met and Giyuu would respond curtly. He enjoyed the attention, and she was a part of his past that he held on to fondly.

He met her once again, by chance, when she was eating dinner. She was by a stall again and a soft smile sat on Giyuu’s face as he approached her. (y/n)’s eyes fell on his approaching form and widened before she got up and rushed to greet him.

     “You didn’t have to run to me, I was coming there.” Giyuu said, amused.

     “I was happy to see you.”

In the time she spent writing letters to him, she realized she was helping him heal. And the thing about healing was that when you helped another heal, you heal yourself as well. The first few letters she wrote to Giyuu, she wrote for him. The several letters that came after, she could not stop writing. And now, seeing him in flesh again, confirmed her suspicions.

She was falling in love again. With Tomioka Giyuu.

     “Do you want me to buy you dinner?” She asked, cheekily.

Giyuu frowned a bit, “I can buy dinner myself, (y/n).”

     “You two are a cute couple. What will you be having?” The stall owner said, shocking both of them.

(y/n)’s face turned red instantly and Giyuu’s eyes remained stoic. He turned to her before turning away, ordering what he wanted and waiting patiently.

     “Giyuu—”

     “It’s nothing.”

She frowned a tad bit before feeling dejected. After eating, the two of them walked over to the house with the wisteria symbol and were given rooms to rest in. Since they were man and woman, the kind old lady ensured each had their own rooms. 

After changing into more comfortable clothing, (y/n) and Giyuu sat beside one another, at the side of the house. No words were spoken, just two people enjoying each other’s company in silence. She turned to look at him, noticing features from his face she had never noticed before. His hair was longer, his eyes were colder, and his features—oh, they were handsome indeed. Just the mere thought sent blood rushing to her face, and she turned away, quickly shutting her eyes.

Giyuu turned to look at her this time, after having felt her eyes on him for several seconds. She was just as he remembered, beautiful and gentle, yet so strong. 

     “Why...” She whispered, “Why won’t you try to tell me how you feel?”

Giyuu almost gasped, his eyes widening slowly.

     “What...” 

She turned to look at him now, distressed eyes. Her hand flew to his cheek, bringing him closer to her. Their faces were inches away, and Giyuu could feel her breath on his face. Her grip on him was strong but so soft at the same time.

     “Why won’t you ever try?” She asked, staring into his eyes.

Giyuu’s eyes were stuck to hers, but for some reason, the air around them changed. His eyes quickly darted to her lips and then back at her eyes. It was as if he was scolding himself for even looking at her lips. The close contact didn’t help. He felt warm all of a sudden, and he was sure he was sweating.

She leaned in closer before pressing her lips to his, stunning him in the process. Giyuu didn’t move, he remained frozen as if this was something he shouldn’t even be doing. 

A second later, she pulled away, quickly getting up from there and excusing herself. Giyuu was shocked, his eyes wide, his mouth ajar, his fingers traveled to his lips and felt them—warm and a bit of (y/n) left behind. 

(y/n) gulped before heading into her room for the night, but there was something there. Something had changed between them, something permanent. She shut herself in her room and stayed there, knowing that either Giyuu would leave her a letter or not in the morning, but would go away before she could see him.

Her words stung him. Why won’t you try? Was she talking about all those times when he could have said something to her and didn’t? All those times he was pulling himself away from her because Sabito was there? Did she deserve to know about his feelings simply because he had them?

Of course, he had them for her, after all.

Giyuu stood up. He walked over to her room and stood there, unmoving. He didn’t know what made him move, but whatever it was, he didn’t want it to stop.

     “(y/n),” His eyes were wide. “Can I come insid—”

The door opened before he could even finish. There she stood, wide-eyed and red-faced, looking at him earnestly. Giyuu walked in, his hands reaching her face, cupping her cheeks before pressing his lips on to hers firmly. Tears fell down from her eyes as her hands flew to his, clutching into him for dear life. Giyuu kissed her as passionately as for all those times he could have said something and didn’t.

And when he pulled away, he took a breath before kissing her once more. His hands flung themselves around her and pulled her close, gripping on to her like she was the only living memory that mattered.

After he pulled away, “I love you, (y/n). I have always loved you.”

(y/n) was crying, but there was a smile on her face. She nodded before cupping his face, kissing his nose, placing her forehead on his. 

     “I love you, Tomioka Giyuu.”

It wasn’t as if Giyuu didn’t believe in love. How could he not when he basically lived for it?

❞

[sweetmemories2606]

Emergency (Gruvia and NaLu Fanfic)

Wrote this one-shot for @jfangirld​ since today is her birthday. 

Sorry this is a little late. I hope you've had an amazing day!

Title: Emergency

Pairings: Gruvia/NaLu/Luvia brotp

Summary: Everyone believed that Lucy had been saved by Wendy and Chelia, but the truth was much more complicated than that. 

Warning: IMPORTANT!! This story is the prequel of If They Knew, so you gotta read that one first if you want to understand what happens.

Word Count: 2.000 

Happy reading, everyone!

                                            ___________

                                         January of X791

Juvia watched the unconscious man below her, relieved that he was breathing normally again. “There you go, my love.”

Gray stirred, but didn’t wake up. She assumed he would remain unconscious for a while after having been knocked out by the leaders of the cult they had come to arrest.

The mission had seemed rather simple when they had taken the flyer a couple days before, but as it turned out these people were expert magic users and they were light on their feet.

They had made defeating Gray look easy, although Juvia knew that the only reason they had done so was because he had been distracted when she was injured.

When she had screamed in pain, he had glanced at her and in that one second they had hit him hard in the head, knocking him out.

To make it even worse, they had started beating his unconscious body, which led Juvia to increase her magic power in order to trap all of them in her water lock.

Thankfully, her plan had worked, thus all the cult members were now scattered across the sunflowers field behind the church where they operated.

Once they were defeated, she had immediately come to her beloved’s side and that’s when she had realized the extent of his injuries.

The blow to his head had managed to draw a lot of blood and someone had stabbed him in the lungs.

Even if Juvia had known that Gray was strong and would probably be fine, she hadn’t wanted to take any risks.

“You’ll be okay now.” Leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, she was worried by its coldness.

“You didn’t have to heal him.” Now that voice was unmistakable.

The water mage straightened herself and turned around to face her oldest friend. “I know.”

“I thought we agreed that you shouldn’t use the Fairy Heart anymore.” Mavis sternly said.

“And I haven’t used it in years.” Juvia replied before glancing at Gray again. “But this is different.”

Mavis followed her gaze and sighed. “This is dangerous, Juvia.”

“I know very well how dangerous love is.” The water mage sincerely said. “But it’s also worth it.”

“Is it worth constantly lying to him?” Fairy Tail’s first master inquired.

“What choice do I have?” Juvia stood up and crossed her arms. “He can’t know about the Fairy Heart, so…”

“So you should stay away.” Mavis interrupted.

“No.” The former shook her head. "I spent decades living in loneliness. I want to live this life now; with Fairy Tail.”

“I understand.” The latter nodded. “But I still think that you shouldn’t use the Fairy Heart anymore."

“I’ll try not to.” Juvia conceded. “Unless there’s an emergency.”

Before Mavis could say more, Gray stirred again and groaned; signaling he was about to wake up.

She gave Juvia one last pleading look before walking away. Once she was at a safe distance, she looked back at them.

Watching as Juvia wrapped her arms around him and Gray hesitated before hugging her back, Mavis sighed once again. “I hope that at least their story will have a happier ending."

                                                   ___________

                                                 July of X791

“Lucy!” Natsu’s scream resonated throughout the stadium once he rushed to catch the celestial mage.

Juvia watched him, noticing the familiar pain and desperation that Zeref had shown so many years before.

Can anyone else tell that he absolutely loves her?

It was clear as day, but not clear to all apparently.

Soon her attention was caught by Gray, who rushed after Natsu. He seemed tense; which was understandable after having been forced to watch one of his closest friends be tortured.

Though Juvia knew that’s why he didn’t spare a glance at her,  it still hurt to be ignored after she had just declared her love for him in front of everyone.

Although; if she were to be honest; it might be best if he says nothing. She had a feeling that his response might not be positive.

Everything with Gray was so complicated. There were times when Juvia was sure he felt the same, but during others it seemed he didn’t even think about it.

It had become rather irritating how he could ignore her one moment, then become sweet and caring in the next.

It specially didn’t help that he acted like a jealous boyfriend whenever Lyon interacted with her.

Juvia had never encountered someone as confusing and complicated as Gray Fullbuster in her 100 years of existence, but somehow that only made her fall for him even more.

“Come on, Lucy, please say something.” Hearing his voice, her attention went back to the present situation.

Noticing the fear in his eyes once he tried to awake their friend, her heart squeezed with sorrow.

“What in the hell is your problem?” There was an unmistakable yell. Natsu. “You went way too far!” Juvia followed his angry gaze towards Minerva and frowned.

How could someone be so cruel and ruthless?

“Hang on, I need to give her emergency treatment!” Wendy yelled and Juvia realized that she was rushing towards the celestial mage.

I should do the same. No time to get distracted.

“I’ll help you.” Chelia offered; she was running closely behind the water mage.

Good. With the two of them helping Lucy, she'll be fine.

“Just hang in there, Lucy.” Having reached the celestial mage, Juvia stood behind Chelia as the two healers combined their magic.

Her attention shifted between Lucy’s concernedly pale face to the rest of team Natsu, who were facing off against Minerva and her pals from Sabertooth.

They traded dirty looks and threats, with Erza reminded them that making an enemy of Fairy Tail was a decision that they would regret.

Juvia knew just how true that statement was. She hoped they would face the consequences soon, but for now her focus was on Lucy.

It was truly worrying that the celestial mage’s injuries didn’t seem to be lessening despite being healed by both Wendy and Chelia.

Why wasn’t their magic working?

Soon two guards came with a gurney, so Juvia and Wendy began attempting to lift Lucy up until Natsu rushed to her side.

Understanding that he wanted to do it himself, they stepped away and watched as he carefully took the celestial mage into his arms; dismissing the gurney with a shake of the head.

Fairy Tail Teams A and B plus Chelia followed him to the infirmary, where Porlyusica was already waiting.

                                        ___________

Juvia followed Team Natsu closely, keeping an eye on Lucy to see if her condition improved.

Once Natsu gently placed the latter on the first bed and sat on the chair beside it,  the water mage smiled softly.

He’s not going to leave her side, is he? He’ll stay here until she wakes up because he needs to know if she’ll be okay.

Her thoughts were confirmed a moment later when Porlyusica began scolding the dragon slayer and trying to persuade him to leave.

He refused to, claiming he wasn’t leaving until Lucy was awake. Thus Gray and Erza had to half drag him to the waiting room that was being filled with Fairy Tail members.

Juvia watched from her chosen spot by the window as the latter tried to comfort him. “She's going to be okay, Natsu.”

“She was hurt pretty bad.” Gray muttered, ignoring Erza’s glare.

“At least she managed to get second place.” Gajeel said and Levy frowned at him.

“Is that really all you care about?” His face hardened.

“Of course not! Do you really think I’m happy that blondie is hurt?” Juvia chose to intervene before this turned into a fight.

“No one thinks that.” Gajeel glanced at her and already knew something was wrong. “What's wrong?”

“Are you okay, Juvia?” Mirajane asked. Now all eyes were on the water mage.

It’s taking too long. Lucy should be better by now.

“Yes.” She offered a weak smile. “Just worried about Lucy.”

“She's going to be fine.” Erza repeated.

“I don’t understand.” Wendy whispered, exasperated. “Chelia and I joined our powers, so why didn’t it heal her?”

“You did a great job, Wendy.” Mirajane reassured the young girl.

“That is a good question, though.” Levy frowned.

Something isn’t right. Wendy’s magic has never failed before.

“My guess is that Minerva’s magic power is stronger than we had imagined.” Makarov suggested. He had been deep in thought ever since entering the room.

“There's something strange about it.” Erza said, crossing her arms.

“I don’t care what her magic is, I just want to take her down!” Natsu yelled and many people nodded in agreement.

Minerva’s magic. It did feel strange; different. What if Lucy was in more danger than they'd assumed?

It was decided. Juvia had to check up on the celestial mage and make sure that she would be alright.

“Excuse me.” Natsu frowned when the water mage tried to move past him.

“Where are you going?” Gray asked and she tried not to look at him.

Why is he always so distracting?

“I’m going to check up on Lucy.” His confusion was clear once she avoided his gaze. After all, she had never done that before.

“But Porlyusica said…” Natsu started.

“I don’t care.” Juvia firmly said, catching him off guard.

Seeing an opportunity, she slightly pushed him to the side and managed to move forward to reach the infirmary.

Thankfully, it had been spelled to be soundproof so no one could hear what happened inside.

Closing the door behind her, Juvia’s eyes were drawn towards the nearest bed.

Lucy was still as pale, lifeless and injured as before. It seemed no matter what anyone tried, she wasn’t getting better.

“What are you doing here?” Porlyusica yelled as soon as she spotted the water mage.

“Her condition isn’t improving.” Juvia whispered, taking another step until she was in front of the bed.

The healer sighed. “Something is preventing her wounds from being healed.”

They could try to figure out what that was, but time was running out. Saving Lucy was the most important thing and Juvia quickly realized that there was only one way to guarantee her friend’s survival.

This is an emergency.

She looked in Porlyusica’s direction. “I can help her.”

“How?” The healer frowned, confused.

Lucy drew in a long, deep breath and her body trembled. She seemed to be in pain and Juvia wanted that to be over and fast.

“No time to explain.” Any explanation would include revealing secrets that were reserved only to masters of Fairy Tail.

“Alright.” Porlyusica nodded before stepping away.

Juvia sat at the edge of the bed and placed a hand on the celestial mage's forehead. Closing her eyes, she concentrated and soon enough felt magic power coursing through her.

A bright green light spread across her body, then the glow was transferred to Lucy’s. Miraculously, the latter’s injuries began disappearing one by one until her skin was once again flawless, the color returned to her face and her breathing returned to normal.

It was like she had never been injured at all.

“How?” Porlyusica watched this in amazement.

“There you go.” Juvia whispered after the light had disappeared. Briefly glancing at the healer, her expression turned serious. “You can’t tell anyone it was me. Please, promise me.”

“Why not?” Porlyusica was genuinely confused.

“It's complicated.” That didn’t even begin to cover the truth.

The healer assessed the young woman in front of her. After a few moments, she concluded that this was serious, so best to keep the secret. ”What should I say, then?”

“Wendy and Chelia’s powers were delayed because of the extent of Lucy’s injuries.” Juvia suggested.

“Alright.” Porlyusica nodded again and the water mage gave her a thankful look.

Juvia watched as she moved towards the door, opening it and walking outside. Then her voice resonated throughout the building once she explained that Lucy’s condition had finally improved thanks to Wendy and Chelia’s efforts.

I don't know why you agreed to keep my secret, but thank you.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Black Serpent

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes was the most notorious mobster of New York City. He was rich. He was powerful. He was feared. But something – or rather someone – made him realize his life meant so little to him. 

Word Count: 10,010 - One Shot

Warnings: Violence, Mentions of sex trafficking 

Bucky stared down at the fingernail on his right thumb. Despite just getting out of the shower, he recognized the red tint to the dirt underneath it. But it wasn’t dirt. It was dried blood. Blood that was not his. Not even a scolding hot shower could rinse away his sins.

He finally dug it out somehow and pushed the act to the back of his mind.

When he walked back into his bedroom, with only a towel around his waist, he was relieved to see his bed empty.

But then he heard the movement around his kitchen.

Bucky smirked as he threw a pair of sweats on and didn’t bother with a shirt.

He entered the kitchen to find Steve rummaging through his fridge for food.

“Coffee should be ready soon,” the man said without turning away away from the refrigerator. Bucky couldn’t sneak up on his best friend if his life depended on it.

“How do you get rid of them so fast?” Bucky asked him.

Steve finally turned around to smirk at him. “I’m nice to them.”

Bucky scoffed and mumbled something under his breath about always being nice to his flings.

Steve shoved a plate of breakfast in front of Bucky.

“Peg says you’re getting thin. She was close to hiring you a live-in chef to make sure you actually ate 3 meals a day.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but dug into the food. “Can you call the boys and tell ‘em to meet at the office?”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “What for?”

“There’s rumblings going around the city about this Black Serpent,” Bucky answered casually.

“Isn’t your worrying a little premature? We’ve been hearing these rumors for years. And how do we know they’re based in anything real?” Steve challenged.

Bucky pointed his fork at Steve. “My worrying is what’s kept you alive all these years, punk,” he retorted with a mouth full of food.

“All we know about this ‘Black Serpent’” Steve said with finger quotes, “is that no one even knows what they look like. And they’re trying to shut down Pierce’s sex clubs.”

“Yeah, and what happens when he gets bored with Hydra’s mob, huh? He’ll come for us next.”

“We deal in money laundering, Buck. Sex clubs aren’t really a gateway crime to that.” Steve teased.

“Stop bugging me and just call the damn crew, Steve.” Bucky snapped. ————-

“Why doesn’t anyone know a damn thing about this schmuck?” Bucky asked as his men sat around a table.

Clint shrugged his shoulders. “He’s well-protected, I guess.”

Bucky ground his teeth together. “There’s not so much of a picture of this guy. How is that even possible? It’s 2018.”

The group started shifting their weight and sharing looks with each other as they saw Bucky’s irritation rising.

Steve put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I wasn’t teasing you when I said I don’t think we need to worry about this quite yet. This Black Serpent hasn’t made a move against us. So until that happens, let’s not lose any sleep over it.”

“Someone’s making threats in my city, I’m not ignoring it.” Bucky muttered dangerously.

The mobster stood up quickly and buttoned his suit jacket. He gave a warning look and pointed to Clint, “Get me a picture of this asshole.”

Clint nodded, knowing he couldn’t let his boss down.

————-

It had been weeks since Bucky ordered his crew to find out anything they could about the Black Serpent and his gang. But they still had their jobs to do.

Steve walked into his office to find Bucky washing his hands in the sink of the bathroom. The water below was tinted pink from the blood.

Steve sighed and sat in the seat across the Bucky’s desk, “Well… I think you broke his nose and fractured both his cheekbones.”

“He’s lucky I didn’t kill him,” Bucky mumbled as he sat across from Steve, behind his desk.

Steve eyes the bruise that now filtered across Bucky’s knuckles. Some of the skin even split and was still bleeding slightly.

“Why do you still stick around, Steve?” Bucky asked with surprising gentleness.

Steve blinked. “What?”

“You have a perfect wife and life outside of this. Why risk ruining all of that by staying at my side?”

“You’re my best friend, Buck. Where else would I go?”

“Home,” he answered harshly.

Steve didn’t know how to respond to that.

Bucky stood up abruptly and threw his suit jacket on.

“Where you going?” Steve asked quickly.

“The bar.”

Steve stood up. “Want me to come with?”

“No,” Bucky answered harshly. “Go home, Steve.”

—————

It was a nice bar. Every drink cost at least $15. Bucky was sort of a regular. He liked it because no one bothered him. He could sit by himself and be left to his devices. It was quite amazing how he managed to be alone in a crowded and fancy cocktail bar.

Bucky listened to the music playing in the speakers. It didn’t overwhelm him and it wasn’t the shitty modern stuff all over the radio.

“Another?” The bartender asked him casually, knowing better than to judge the king mobster and his alcohol intake.

Bucky just nodded at the bartender and made him another Old-Fashioned.

Suddenly the hair on Bucky’s arms and the back of his neck stood on end. He sensed someone walking in his direction. But somehow he knew they weren’t a threat. They sat to the right of him at the bar.

Bucky didn’t look over, but saw the bartender’s reaction and knew they were a woman. But not just any woman, he could tell she was beautiful by how the bartender seemed slightly flustered by her arrival.

“Vodka Martini, please. Extra dirty.” The voice cooed politely.

Bucky subtly looked over as soon as she made her order.

She was wearing a sleek and sexy jumpsuit that left very little to the imagination. The front plummeted almost all the way down to her naval. Yet somehow she made the outfit look effortlessly classy and stylish. Her makeup was clean and impeccable.

“Put it on my tab,” Bucky orders the bartender.

The woman eyed him. “No, thank you,” she refused politely, before handing over a matte black credit card to the bartender.

Bucky, not offended in the slightest, smirked at her. “Doll, I don’t think you picked that seat if you didn’t plan on me buying you a drink.”

She raised a brow. “I am perfectly capable of buying my own drinks. Thank you. I chose this seat because it looks like you’re having a rough day. And I hoped that would be enough for me to sit here and not be bothered by you.”

Bucky whistled lowly, "You are something else.” Then he chuckled. “What makes you think I’m having a rough day?”

She sighed, not planning on answering the question. But then her gaze landed on his bloodied and bruised knuckles. “Hope the other guy’s still breathing.”

“You don’t know the fool. How are you so sure he didn’t deserve it?”

She smirked at his retort.

The bartender placed her martini down and gave her a wink.

Bucky didn’t miss it. But the young woman seemed to mostly ignore the gesture.

Bucky then lifted his glass to her, offering to clink glasses.

She eyed him suspiciously, but raised her martini to him.

“Can I know the name of the beautiful woman I’m cheersing with?” Bucky asked suavely.

“Y/N,” she said with a tilt of her head.

“Y/N,” he repeated back like it was his saving grace.

But she didn’t miss his cocky grin. Like getting her name meant he could get anything from her.

She took a heavy sip. “This isn’t going to go how you expect,” she suddenly warned.

Bucky smiled. “Is that so?”

Y/N nodded. “You shouldn’t waste your time on me.” Then she eyed something over Bucky’s shoulder. He turned around to see a group of beautiful women. They were eyeing him too and Bucky quickly turn back around to face Y/N.

“You should go talk to them,” she urged.

“I don’t want to talk to them. I want to talk to you, doll.” Bucky answered with a smile.

Y/N sighed and then leaned toward him. “Listen to me when I say that I’m not the girl for you.”

Bucky chuckled. “How can you be so sure?”

Y/N just watched him.

He could tell by her y/e/c eyes that there was something intense going on in her mind. Like she was trying to decide to be sincere or keep playing games.

Bucky swore her gaze softened and the mischievousness in her gaze disappeared.

Y/N propped her elbow onto the bar and leaned her head into her knuckle.

“You want a beautiful woman, one that looks good on your arm. A woman who will play along with the game, fall for your charm, go home with you, and give you that short reprieve of surface-level intimacy.”

Bucky wasn’t expecting to be read like a book. But he kept his look composed, still appearing amused by her words.

“And you can’t be that woman?”

“No.” She gave him a warning look as well. “Because you don’t want to be challenged. You wouldn’t know what to do with a woman that didn’t accept your unhealthy habit of compartmentalizing your affections.”

Y/N took another sip of her drink. “You aren’t the first man to navigate relationships that way and you surely won’t be the last. You’ve got good company. But casual relationships equals a casual life. So don’t be surprised when you wake up one day and it finally hits you.”

Bucky raised a brow. “And what will finally hit me, doll?”

“That you don’t know how to love just as much as you don’t know how it feels to be loved.”

Bucky stared at her for second before throwing back his entire drink. “Jesus Christ,” he chuckled.

“You asked,” Y/N replied with a shrug and simper.

Bucky leaned toward her and lowered his voice, “You really think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” Then he leaned back. “You just met me.”

Y/N grinned at him, like he mentioned an inside joke of theirs. She finished her martini and stood up from her seat. “Oh, I know more about you than I think you’d be comfortable with, James.”

It wasn’t until she reached the door that Bucky realized he had never told her his name. He jumped to his feet and hurried out the door. His eyes raced around the area, trying to find the beautiful woman.

But she was nowhere to be found.

Bucky tried to convince himself he was angry and a little distressed that he was so transparent to this stranger. But he knew he wasn’t truly, for he had a subtle grin on his lips as he shook his head and walked back into the bar.

It wasn’t unusual for people to know who he was. After all, James Buchanan Barnes was the mob boss of Brooklyn and most of New York City. Bucky had gained quite the reputation. Most of it caused people to fear him. But if Y/N really knew who he was, she had shown no concern for his dangerous notoriety.

—————

Bucky was reading the papers in front of him when there was a knock on his door.

Steve walked in with a weary look.

“What is it?” The mobster asked.

“Clint tracked down the Black Serpent,” Steve told him slowly.

“And?” Bucky was irritated by the rising tension.

“They want to meet with you.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed, “What?”

“Word travels fast. They found out you’ve been looking for them,” Steve clarified.

Then he watched Bucky go deep into thought.

“You’re not actually considering doing this,” Steve asked in slight panic.

“Why wouldn’t I consider it?” Bucky challenged.

“Okay. All these years, you’ve kept my dumb ass from getting killed and did your best to keep me out of trouble. Now it’s finally my turn to do the same for you,” Steve huffed. “Do not go to that meeting. We don’t know a god damn thing about this guy. How do we know he’s not going to shoot you the second you walk through the door?”

“We don’t,” Bucky shrugged.

“Do you have a death sentence?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “No, Steve. I want to make a deal. I want to do my job. This is what I’m good at. This is how we got where we are. And that didn’t happen from me playing it safe.”

Steve ground his teeth together and crossed his arms. “Fine. But I’m going with you.”

Bucky scoffed. “Like hell you are.”

“Bucky!”

But he cut Steve off. “You have a wife and the kids to worry about. I’m not risking it. If something ever happened to you, Peg would never forgive me. You’re staying behind on this one. That’s final.” “But what about you, Buck?” Steve’s voice was so quiet and filled with worry.

“I’ll be fine,” he brushed aside his friend’s concern. “Always am.”

—————

The day of the meeting, Bucky made sure none of his men entered the building.

Clint and Sam waited in the car. Neither of them liked seeing their boss walk in alone and vulnerable. But they did what he asked.

From the outside, the place looked like an abandoned building. But Bucky was quickly proven wrong when he walked in to see the place was completely refinished and updated. It was a good hideout. No one would ever suspect it.

Bucky wondered if knowing of its existence was one of the many reasons they would kill him on the spot. He just hoped Sam and Clint would get away unharmed if that happened.

Everyone eyed him wearily, fully aware of exactly who he was.

Someone stepped forward then and gave Bucky a respectful nod, holding out his hand for the mob boss to shake. “Right this way, Mr. Barnes.”

The man led him through a maze of halls until he opened a door and gestured for Bucky to walk in. He didn’t follow, closing the door behind him.

It was an empty office. The infamous Black Serpent was nowhere to be found.

Bucky smirked. It was a power move. Make the prey wait and start to get anxious. It reminds prey who is in control, because it’s not them.

There was a door behind the desk, proving there was another entrance to the office.

Bucky’s posture straightened as he heard the handle start to twist.

He didn’t know what he expected the Black Serpent to look like. Some tall and dark man? Perhaps he was handsome and sly? How does someone get a name like that without it correlating to their physicality?

But anything Bucky had imagined could not have been more wrong. For the person that walked through the door was no man. The Black Serpent was a woman. Not just a woman, but a inanely beautiful one.

But Bucky swore his heart stopped when he recognized her.

The Black Serpent was the woman who enchanted him at the bar. The Black Serpent was Y/N.

She wore an all black outfit one again. It was a velvet suit. She looked professional, like a CEO of a international company that could own the world. But it was her black lipstick staining her lips that ruined that image and hinted she was dangerous. Bucky found himself mesmerized by it. Not many women could pull off the look. But she did it effortlessly.

Y/N smirked as she saw the recognition covering Bucky’s features.

“Please sit down, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky tried not show how shocked he was, but it seemed like a failure already.

“You tricked me,” Bucky said smugly as he sat down.

“Is tricked the right word?” Y/N cooed. “I heard you had been looking for me. I decided I wanted to see what all the fuss was about before I even flirted with the idea of calling a meeting.”

“You knew who I was the whole time,” Bucky sighed.

Y/N smiled. “I did. But unlike me, you don’t really put much of an effort into hiding.”

Bucky leaned forward. “How have you managed to remain so invisible?”

“This all belonged to my father at one point. He wanted to keep me safe. No one knew he was married or had a daughter. When I took it over, it was easy to remain a secret.”

Then Bucky had the realization that she was welcoming him into this secret. Him, a rival mobster. He could easily sell this information to her enemies or the feds.

“But now you’ve shown yourself to me…” Bucky said carefully.

“You are not my enemy, James.” Y/N stated confidently. “Your business is not my competition. Nor will it ever be.”

“But Pierce is,” he thought aloud.

Y/N nodded.

“You trying to get into the sex industry, doll.” Bucky teased.

“Do not insult me,” Y/N almost hissed.

It was the first sign of her mobster tendencies that he had witnessed.

“He’s not selling prostitution or a sex club. He’s selling women. Pierce has a sex ring. He’s a trafficker.” Y/N added with poison in her tone.

Bucky suddenly put it together. “You’re not trying to take over Pierce’s business. You’re trying to kill the business altogether and take him down with it,” he muttered slowly in realization.

Y/N didn’t deny it, proving that he was right.

“I said you weren’t my enemy and now you know I meant it.” She finally said after a moment of silence filled the room.

“You want my help,” Bucky alluded.

Y/N instantly shook her head. “No. I don’t need your help.” She crossed her arms. “When I heard how aggressive you were about finding me, I decided it was best to call a meeting with you. I can’t fight a war with one mob while another is trying to start a new one me as well. I hoped to clear the air before that could happen.” “You trusted me enough to give away your identity,” Bucky pointed out.

“Don’t go getting sentimental on me, James.”

“Do you trust me?” He asked quietly.

“I don’t trust anyone.” Y/N retorted.

“I’m not going to tell anyone about this meeting or who you actually are.” Bucky didn’t know why he felt like promising it. But his words were sincere. Bucky may be many things, but he would always be a man of his word.

“We’ll see about that.” Y/N sighed.

Bucky sensed that this was the end of their meeting. He stood up and buttoned his suit jacket.

“Why did you find me that night?” He had to ask before he left.

Y/N eyed him, having an internal battle of what she wanted to share with him.

“I told you, I wanted to see for myself what kind of man you were,” she admitted.

“Let me take you out to dinner,” Bucky blurted out. His boyish charm just couldn’t be hindered. He took his shot.

Y/N raised her eyebrows, genuinely taken aback by the offer.

“I can’t be seen with one of the biggest mob bosses in New York City. It would blow my cover.” Y/N chided.

“You’re seen with me and nobody will touch you, doll. I’ll make damn sure of that.”

Y/N scoffed. “I don’t need your protection, James. I’ve done well by myself all this time. I can handle my safety on my own.”

“Then why won’t you go out with me?” Bucky asked with a smile.

“Didn’t you hear a word I said to you that night? I’m not the girl for you.”

Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle. “You won’t even give me a chance, doll.” Y/N stood up and walked to the door to open it. “Get out of here James. Before I changed my mind about letting you walk out of her alive.” “You wouldn’t.” Bucky teased like she wasn’t talking about murdering him.

“You don’t know me now, do you? So how would you know what I would and wouldn’t do?” Y/N countered with a dangerous gaze.

Bucky decided to be bold and slowly walked up to her, not stopping until their faces were mere inches apart.

“I don’t give up that easily, doll.” Bucky said to her with a smirk.

“Goodnight, Mr. Barnes.” Y/N answered coldly before ushering him out the door.

It would take more than that to discourage Bucky.

He left Y/N in her office and remembered the route back to the entrance of the warehouse. He was just about to reach the door when someone called his name.

Bucky turned around to find Nick Fury walking toward him. The man had a reputation and there weren’t many mobsters repping an eye patch and a look that could kill. He was easy to identify.

“Fury,” Bucky greeted coldly. “Didn’t know you ran with the Black Serpent.”

“Y/N’s father was my best friend,” the older man explained. Then he gave him a warning look. “I tried to talk Y/N out of this meeting with you about a dozen times.”

Bucky frowned at the direction the conversation was going.

“I promised her dad I would look after her when she took on this world,” Fury continued. “You do anything to compromise her identity or hurt her…and you’ll wish you’d never been born. Do you understand me?”

Bucky’s gaze darkened. “Are you really threatening me right now?”

“Absolutely.”

“It’s unnecessary,” Bucky said with annoyance. “If anything, I want to help her. But you won’t believe that no matter what I tell you.”

“You say that now. But if anyone finds out you know the Black Serpent, there could come a day when someone gives you an offer you can’t refuse.”

Bucky had nothing else to say to the man and left the warehouse.

As soon as Sam and Clint spotted him inside their faces both dropped into relief. They half expected to be carrying their boss’ corpse out of that warehouse.

“What did he look like?” Clint asked a half a second before Bucky even managed to close his car door.

“Was he ugly?” "Did he look like an actual snake?”

“Does he kill his enemies with poison?”

Bucky gave them both a death glare. “Enough.”

That was all he needed to say to get both of them to shut up.

They took the hint and didn’t say anything for the rest of the car ride.

—————

Bucky didn’t have the desire to go home. He had been sitting in his office for God knows how long, just staring at the wall. All of his men had already gone home. Or so he thought.

“What’re you still doing here?” Steve made him jump.

“Christ, what’re you doing, waltzing in here like that?” Bucky growled, hating being snuck up on.

“I saw your light on underneath the door. Why aren’t you at home, Buck?” Steve asked carefully.

Bucky just shrugged his shoulders.

Steve moved to sit on the edge of his desk and looked down at his friend. “Buck, you’ve been out of it since that meeting? What happened in that room?”

Bucky was silent for a moment before turning to meet Steve’s gaze. “If I asked you to keep a secret, something you couldn’t even tell Peg, could you do it?”

Steve would’ve been insulted by the fact that Bucky even felt the need to ask if he weren’t so worried about his friend. “Of course, Bucky. I’d die before giving away your secrets. I’m with you ‘till the end of the line, punk.”

Bucky nodded his head slowly. He wasn’t surprised by the sincerity in Steve’s voice. “Remember the girl I told you about a few weeks ago?”

Steve nodded and smirked, “The one that put you in your place and talked circles around you?” Then his brow furrowed as eat thought, “What was her name…Y/N?”

“It’s her, Steve.” Bucky told him. “Y/N’s the Black Serpent.”

Realization hit Steve’s face. But then he stayed quiet, not really sure how to navigate through the conversation after Bucky’s little confession.

“I thought I couldn’t stop thinking about her after that night, but once I found out her secret… I don’t know… It’s like – it’s like she’s consumed my every thought.”

Steve chuckled, “Well, that’s a first.”

Bucky glared at his best friend. “Shut it, Steve.”

But Steve matched his glare. “I’m being serious. It’s about time you stopped messing around with these floozies that only want your name and your money.”

Bucky shook his head, “She’s too good for me, Steve. And she fucking knows it.”

“Yeah, probably. So get your shit together.”

Then Bucky got a dazed look in his eye. “She fucking terrifies me,” the mobster admitted.

Any sense of playfulness disappeared from Steve. All his time knowing Bucky, not once could he remember a moment when he even appeared scared. To hear the most dangerous mobster in New York City admit fear, it was the most shocking thing Steve had witnessed in their friendship.

“She looked me up and down… and in seconds, she read me like a book.”

Steve gave him a sympathetic look. “Go home, Buck.”

“To what, Steve? An empty penthouse? An empty life? I worked my ass off for this business, for this gang… and for what? So I can be stupid rich? To be known and feared by this entire city?”

“Alright. That’s it. You’re coming home with me for dinner.”

Bucky sighed and stood up. “No, I’m fine.” He put on his trench coat and then walked over to his friend. He patted him on the shoulder. “Go home to your wife and kids, Steve.”

He walked swiftly out of his office, leaving no room for Steve to argue.

—————

Bucky walked into another one of his regular cocktail spots. The bar was on the second floor with an open concept that let bar-goers look down at the restaurant area below and subtly watch the diners.

His eyes lazily scanned below, only half interested in the crowd.

But then his gaze landed on someone familiar.

Y/N.

She was eating dinner with a couple of girlfriends.

Looking at her now, it was hard to imagine she was the threat that New York City feared so much. Her eyes were bright with amusement and happiness, and she threw her head back as she laughed so genuinely at the jokes her friends told.

Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight.

But when he finally managed, he waved over the bartender. And when the girls tried to pay for their dinner and leave, their faces turned confused when their waiter told them it had already been taken care of.

It didn’t take Y/N long to put together what happened. Bucky guessed she must’ve known he was watching her for awhile, because her eyes immediately drew upward and met his. She looked unamused.

Bucky could tell her friends were asking who he was. He read her lips as she replied, “Nobody.”

They got up to leave and Bucky purposely moved to go downstairs and timed it perfectly so he’d meet them at the door.

Her friends eyed him, but kept walking out, letting Y/N handle the situation.

Bucky had a playful twinkle in his eyes as he met Y/N’s glare.

“You just don’t learn, do you? I’m perfectly capable of paying for dinner with friends,” she warned him lowly.

“And I’m perfectly aware of it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t accept the gesture without being threatened by it.” Bucky smirked.

She sighed. And for the first time since he’d known her, Y/N looked tired.

“Don’t start this game, James.”

“It’s not a game,” he answered seriously.

“You might not think so. But it is,” she countered. “You don’t actually like me, James.”

“Like hell I don’t.”

“You like the chase. You think I’m playing hard to get, but that’s not what I’m doing.”

“Then what are you doing?” He challenged.

“Saving both of us time and effort.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Why do you have to make this so difficult?”

“You don’t know anything about me. You think you’re attracted to me…but you’ve just a projected a woman onto me that you want. And I never will be here…so you’re just going to be disappointed when you eventually realize it.”

Bucky tilted his head in thought for a moment. It seemed to bother Y/N that she couldn’t read his thoughts right in that moment. He slowly stepped into her space. It was obvious that she didn’t like his close proximity.

“Did you ever think that maybe you’re just scared that I will get to know the real you? That you won’t be able to hide behind that mask of yours?” He offered, his eyes slowly lowering down to her lips. “It’s not about the chase, Y/N. But I will say, you make it thrilling.”

If looks could kill, Bucky would be in hell right then.

“Goodnight, James.” Y/N muttered with boredom before shoving past him.

——————

Bucky jolted awake in bed at the sound of someone breaking into his penthouse.

The mafia boss slept with a gun under his pillow every night, half a dozen more were scattered and hidden around his bedroom.

On instinct alone, he sat up in bed with the gun cocked, loaded, and pointed at the door.

But it immediately dropped to his side when he recognized Steve’s silhouette.

“I almost shot your fucking head off, Steve. What the hell are you doing in my house?” Bucky growled, voice raw with sleep.

“Something’s going on with Y/N and Pierce’s crew…” Steve breathed.

Suddenly Bucky put together that his friend had sprinted here, for he was trying to catch his breath as though his life depended on it.

“Is she okay?” Bucky whispered.

“I don’t know. Pierce’s club went under fire. That’s all I’ve been told. She might not have been there. But one of our guys was listening to the radio like usual and caught wind of it. It sounds bad, Buck. A dozen men or so have already been declared dead. Don’t know from what side…”

Bucky whipped the covers off the bed and started getting dressed.

In 15 minutes, the tires of his car were screeching to a halt in front of the warehouse where he had first learned the true identity of the Black Serpent.

Despite his arguing, Bucky couldn’t manage to convince Steve to stay home. His best friend insisted on going with him to the warehouse.

Steve was hot his heels as he marched into the warehouse, unannounced.

But Bucky’s panic dissipated completely at the sight before him.

Women of all ages, even children, were huddled into groups on the floor. Their eyes were wide in fear and most of them were barely clothed. Some of them were lucky enough to have blankets covering their shoulders. They tried sharing them with those close.

“What the…?” He heard Steve whisper beside him as they both looked around.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” The voice was came out of nowhere and was so filled with fury that it made Steve jump.

But Bucky’s reaction was substituted with relief, for it belong to Y/N.

She was wearing an all black outfit, baggy t-shirt and jeans tucked into black combat boots. It was unlike her usual high-heeled and feminine ensembles.

“I came to check on you,” Bucky told her quietly.

Y/N seemed utterly taken aback by such a gesture that she simply mumbled, “I’m fine.”

But that was when Bucky spotted her right arm, dripping slowly with blood.

“You’re bleeding,” he stepped forward.

“What?” Y/N muttered and then followed his gaze down to her shoulder. “Oh, that… a bullet grazed my arm. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, Y/N. You need this stitched.” Bucky reprimanded as he carefully and gently grabbed her arm to take a closer look.

Y/N slowly removed her arm from his grasp. “Look… thank you for making sure I’m okay. But I have to look after these girls.” Without giving him a chance to answer, Y/N was grabbing more blankets for the girls and then making sure they had enough food and water.

Bucky, in awe of watching Y/N in her element, didn’t know what to do and started helping. Steve followed suit.

Next thing they knew, three hours had passed and all the survivors were sleeping on cots or sleeping bags in the warehouse.

Bucky and Steve were exhausted, but they knew it was nothing near the exhaustion and torture these women had gone through.

Bucky was looking around now. Without taking his eyes away from his search, he found Steve’s shoulder and gripped it. “Go home, Steve. I’ll be okay here.”

No one seemed to stop Bucky as he searched the giant warehouse for Y/N. By some miracle, he remembered the route to her personal office.

She was sitting at her desk, slumped over with her face in her hands as her elbows were propped on the desk. It appeared the events of the night were finally catching up to her. She looked exhausted and, quite frankly, a little heartbroken.

But she decided to hide it by ripping into Bucky.

“What are you still doing here?” She asked him roughly.

Her attitude had no effect on him. He simply shrugged his shoulders and said, “They’re all taken care of, Y/N. Now let someone take care of you.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m fine, James.” She snapped back rudely.

“You don’t have to prove how strong you are, Y/N. I already know.” Bucky told her with a heavy sigh.

She scoffed at him as she started to wrap gauze around her wound with one hand. “I’m not trying to prove shit…” she mumbled under her breath.

“You’re wrapping that too tight, doll,” Bucky warned and took a quick step forward. “We’re gonna have to amputate your arm after you accidentally tourniquet yourself.”

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh and held up her hands in surrender. “Fine. You do it.”

Bucky bit his lip trying to stop himself from laughing. He found her resentment and annoyance adorable. He was careful as he undid her poor wrap job.

He spotted antibiotic ointment in the first aid kit she had opened up and carefully dabbed it on the cut. Thankfully it wasn’t deep enough for her to need stitches. But he was being extra careful.

“You know… you’d think being one of the most dangerous mobsters in New York, who’d know how to tend to wounds a bit better…” Bucky teased.

She gave him a glare. “I guess I’m not as bad at my job as you are. I’m the one hurting people, not getting hurt. Maybe if you weren’t so reckless, you wouldn’t be so well-versed in nursing.”

Bucky couldn’t hold back the chuckle. “Is that what you’ve heard about me? That I’m reckless?”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Y/N muttered dully without looking at him.  

“Oh, yeah? Care to share?” He asked, utterly amused.

“James Buchanan Barnes. He’ll charm the wits out of you until the very moment he murders you.” Y/N recited from memory with a caricature of a voice. Then she sighed and thought of what other rumors she’s heard. “But if you need to clean your money, your the guy. Hmm… You sleep with any pretty thing that has enough of a brain to form sentences. You aren’t scared to get your hands dirty…to a point where people have started thinking you might have a case of blood lust.”

Bucky’s amusement faded at the descriptions she shared. “I guess I’m some sort of sociopath, huh?”

Y/N eyed him for a moment, trying to figure out if she wanted to comfort him at all. “I don’t think a sociopath would’ve stuck around to help a bunch of victims like you did tonight.”

But Bucky shook his head. “One good deed doesn’t make up for a lifetime of sin, Y/N.”

He had finished wrapping her wound and looked up at her. But she was already staring down at him. “I guess we’re both lost causes then.”

Bucky wanted to say that there was no way she was a lost cause. But he didn’t think it was the time or place. So he just replied with, “Guess we are.”

“While, this has been fun. It’s time for me to get home. There’s a giant bed waiting for me.” Y/N said casually as she stood up. Then she eyed him. “That wasn’t an invitation.”

Bucky held his hands up in surrender. “I’m no fool. I can take the hint when a gal hates my guts.”

Y/N wanted to say she could never hate his guts. But she didn’t want to encourage him. She was supposed to be doing the opposite.

“Are you gonna be okay getting home?” He asked her softly.

The caring tone caught her off guard. “Yeah, my driver’s waiting outside. I’ll be fine.”

Bucky nodded slowly. He had hoped he could offer to drive her home himself. But that was obviously stupidly optimistic of him. Of course she had a driver. She probably would have 3 of her men tailing her back as well.

“I meant to ask,” He started. “Pierce…did you kill him?”

Y/N’s face fell. “No, the bastard got away.” She told him with disappointment.

Then Bucky’s entire body tensed. “Y/N, did he see you? Did anyone that survived the raid and shootout see you?”

“No, of course not.” She quickly answered. “There’s a reason I’ve stayed hidden all this time. Don’t insult me my abilities.”

Bucky nodded again. “Goodnight, Y/N.” His voice was filled with exhaustion. He didn’t expect her to say anything as he made his leave.

So his body froze when he heard her practically whisper, “Thank you, James.”

He quickly turned around and looked at her, half believing that he had imagined hearing it. “You know… you can call me Bucky. All of my friends do.”

“But we’re not friends,” she replied just as quietly.

His lips tightened into a line. Out of all the things she’d said to him, that was the one that seemed to bother him the most. “Right,” he muttered before leaving her office.

—————

A new fire was lit inside Bucky. He started giving his men tasks that caused them to share confused looks with one another. Of course they didn’t question the mob boss’ orders. But that didn’t mean they understood them.

“Get me every record we have of Hydra’s accounts,” was the general statement Bucky told his men.

He wasn’t proud of it, but his gang had been the ones to launder all of Pierce’s money. At the time they’d come to that agreement, Bucky was oblivious to the true nature of Hydra’s underground and illegal business. He thought it was a way to keep peace between two gangs, to keep Pierce’s nose out his business and keep his men out of his way.

But now that Bucky knew where the money really came from, he felt sick to his stomach with the realization that he helped in a twisted way.

“Buck, what are you up to?” Steve finally asked Bucky after weeks of men digging up their dirt against Pierce and Hydra.

“What do you mean?” Bucky asked casually.

“You haven’t slept in God knows how long. You have all our guys pulling up any paperwork that Hydra’s so much as touched. What are you up to?”

Bucky shook his head. “That night… made me realize I need to make some changes. Everything I’ve done in my life…it’s all be based in selfishness. After I saw those women, those little girls… I can’t believe that’s been going on in my city, right under my nose. And I had a fucking hand in it.”

“Bucky, how could any of us know that’s what was really going on?” Steve tried to comfort him.

“We’re not idiots, Steve. There were signs everywhere. If we just looked outside of our greed for once in our God damn lives, we would’ve known something was off. What’s more fucked up is that I don’t even know if I would’ve tried to stop it if I figured it out.”

Steve was silent, unable to find the right words to say.

“So I’m taking it down. Pierce and his gang won’t deal in my city a second longer.”

“You’re going to start a war, Bucky.” Steve’s eyes had never been more serious. “You sure you understand the weight of what you’re about to do?”

Bucky’s face darkened. “You can’t start a war with a dead man.”

—————

Y/N was walking around the farmer’s market. It was finally feeling like autumn in New York City. She’d had enough of the sweltering summer and the cool breeze now felt so refreshing against her skin.

It was one of the few times she was out of the uniform of her alter ego. Now she was wearing boyfriend jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers. She still had her messy bed head from waking up and she didn’t bother putting in her contacts.

Her face wasn’t wearing an ounce of makeup. There wasn’t even any left over from the last night.

She was grabbing a batch of apples as she heard someone call her name.

To Y/N surprise and slight horror, she turned around to find the infamous Bucky Barnes just a few feet away from her.

Y/N had been dressed scantily and with little skin covered every time she faced him before. Yet she never felt more exposed and vulnerable than she did now.

“Hi,” she said awkwardly.

He had a warm smile at her quiet greeting.

Y/N shifted her weight and looked around uncomfortably. “Uhh…what are you doing here?”

Bucky gestured behind him with his thumb. “I live around the block.

Her brows raised. “You do? How have I never seen you here before?”

He chuckled. “I don’t do a lot of cooking and therefore I don’t do a lot of grocery shopping. I’m trying to be better about it. Hence my presence today.”

Then he noticed that Y/N was shifting her weight because she was trying to carry three heavy paper bags in two hands.

“Here. Let me help you,” Bucky offered, rushing forward.

“Oh! You really don’t have to do that.”

But he was already grabbing the two heaviest bags from her grasp.

“Where to?” He asked her, ignoring her refusal.

Y/N eyed him, wanting to tell him to go away, but not finding the courage to be mean to him when he was being nothing but nice in return.

The short walk to her apartment was silent. Bucky didn’t bother trying to make small talk.

She guided him to a classic, yet restored building. She lead him to the elevator and clicked the penthouse button.

When they finally reached her apartment, Bucky was in awe of the place.

It was nothing like he had imagined. No one would ever guess the city’s scariest and most mysterious criminal lived here. It was warm and cozy. There were plants taking up any free space. The exposed and distressed brick only added character, instead of making it look scrappy.

Y/N watched Bucky take in her home. She had to admit, it made her rather anxious.

“What? What is it?” She finally asked, unable to take his silence any longer.  

He gave her a shy smile and shrugged before putting her bags on the kitchen counter. “Nothing. It’s just not what I expected.”

Y/N kept shifting her weight and avoiding his gaze.

Bucky realized she was nervous having him there. That’s when he understood that he was seeing a part of her life and a part of her that so few were lucky enough to see. She didn’t want him there because it showed him the real Y/N, not the notorious and anonymous gangster of New York City.

It wasn’t just her apartment. It was her outfit: her messy hair, her makeup-less face. How many men were able to see Y/N in her raw and purest form?

“I should go…” Bucky stated awkwardly. Where was the suave man that could wrap any beautiful woman around his finger in minutes? How did she always do this to him?

“Thank you,” Y/N blurted out before he could leave, “for helping me.”

“You’re not used to people doing things for you, are you?” He gave her a sad smirk.

Y/N shrugged and scratched her arm. “I don’t want to depend on anyone.”

Bucky laughed dryly and shook his head, “Sometimes people want to do nice things for the people they care about. Doesn’t mean that person has to lose their independence or feel like they owe something in return.”

She tried to ignore the part where he basically admitted to caring about her. Mostly because she didn’t believe it. “Like trying to take down Pierce for me?” Y/N challenged.

Bucky’s eyes darkened. “How the hell did you hear about that?”

“It doesn’t matter. Do you know how reckless your being? If I can find out, what’s stopping Pierce and his gang from finding out? You don’t have a cover to hide behind, James. What happens when he comes after you?”

“I can handle it,” Bucky retorted.

“But what if you can’t?” She kept challenging.

He remained quiet.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Y/N spat.

“That’s exactly the point I’m trying to make, Y/N!” Bucky’s voice rose.

She finally snapped. “What if you get hurt?” Y/N yelled.

It caught Bucky off guard. He blinked, shocked at her intrinsically confessing she was concerned for his wellbeing.

Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to argue with her.

“I should go,” he muttered, mostly to the floor.

When he glanced up, Y/N’s expression was unreadable.

Bucky started walking out, but paused with the door half open and looked back at her.

“You look really beautiful, Y/N.” His voice was quiet, but confident.

She couldn’t find a response. So she just watched him walk out of her apartment

—————

Bucky kept his distance from Y/N. A couple months passed. He put all his energy into his work. Steve got more and more worried as he watched his friend look more and more exhausted. It just inspired him to find Pierce and kill the man himself so Bucky would finally relax and move on.

So when Steve got a call from Sam, he couldn’t be more relieved.

He marched into Bucky’s office. “We got him.”

“What?”

“Sam just called. We have Pierce.”

Bucky quickly moved to his feet.

Next thing he knew, his men were driving him to a warehouse at the edge of the city. When he walked in, Sam and a dozen of his men were surrounding Pierce, who was already bloodied up and tied to a metal chair.

“Took you long enough,” Pierce spat a mouthful of blood on the cement floor.

“You’re pretty cocky for a dead man,” Bucky cooed as he grabbed another chair spun in around and placed it in front of Pierce, sitting on it backwards as he leaned his forearms on the back of it.

“Dead man, huh?” Pierce smirked.

Bucky didn’t say anything.

“All these years, you never gave a damn about my business. In fact, you laundered the money I made off of it. What’s made you a new enemy of mine?” Pierce questioned.

“I didn’t know what I was helping with,” Bucky replied darkly.

“Oh, so now you’re some saint?” Pierce challenged. “You’re no different than me, Barnes. You think your hands are clean? Then you’re delusional.”

Bucky’s jaw tensed, already knowing there was some truth to the man’s words.

“No, I don’t think your new path to goodness has you after me.” Pierce sighed and thought aloud. “No…No… I think it has to do with you falling for the Black Serpent.”

Without meaning to, Bucky’s gaze flickered over to Steve. His best friend instantly saw the panic in his eyes. But he managed to hide it from his enemy.

“You don’t think I know about your little infatuation?” Pierce chuckled. “Why else would you have a sudden change of heart toward me?”

Bucky had enough of his taunting. In one swift movement, he unsheathed a switchblade from his pocket, flipped it open, and stabbed it into Pierce’s thigh.

Pierce howled in pain.

“No. You’re absolutely right: I am no saint. And that’s exactly why I’m enjoying causing you so much pain. I don’t think for one fucking second that I’m a good person. But I know one thing for sure: I’m a better man than you. That’s why your death will be the only one that a higher power excuses. I’m going to hell, but you will not be the reason I’m there.”

Pierce’s wasn’t so cocky anymore.

“Not so talkative now, are you?” Bucky gave him the most evil smirk.

Pierce suddenly turned into a man who knew his life had come to an end. “I know you’re going to kill me. But I have one last thing to say before you do it.”

Bucky leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms tightly, waiting.

“The moment I go missing, my men were ordered to kill her.”

Bucky narrowed his gaze. “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” Pierce smiled. “Y/F/N Y/L/N… it really is a beautiful name.”

Hearing her name come out of his mouth made Bucky’s vision turn red and the beast within him was unleashed. In half a second, he had pulled his gun out from the waistband in the back of his pants.

He had it cocked and pressed to Pierce’s forehead in another half second.

“Say her name again, I dare you.”

Pierce chuckled. It was a sound that sent chills down everyone’s spine.

“Y/N – ”

But Pierce barely said the first syllable before Bucky pulled the trigger and a bullet was sent through his skull.

The blood splattered in little dots across Bucky’s face. He didn’t blink at the feeling or the sound. His jaw was clenched so hard, it was a miracle he didn’t crack his teeth.

Bucky barely processed the murder. He was already marching out of the warehouse and heading to the nearest car.

Steve and Sam were racing after him.

They didn’t need to ask to know that he was going after Y/N. Pierce could’ve been bluffing, but Bucky wasn’t taking any chances.

He remembered the address of Y/N’s apartment. As he drove, he had his phone at his ear, desperately trying to get in contact with Fury to warn him of Y/N being in danger and to see if he could tell him that she was safe.

But there was no answer.

“Fuck,” Bucky hissed as he tossed his phone to the car floor and slammed his foot on the gas.

If there were people stationed outside of Y/N’s building to guard her, they had been told to leave Bucky alone, for no one stopped the mobster from entering the building.

Without even bothering to knock, Bucky slammed his shoulder into Y/N’s door.

To his surprise, Y/N was standing in her kitchen, an oversized and distressed t-shirt hanging off her shoulder and nothing covering her bottom except a pair of underwear.

She’d already had a gun raised and pointed at him from the intrusion.

“James? What the fuck are doing?” She gasped, lowering the weapon. Then she was looking over his shoulder at Steve and Sam, who were politely trying to not look at her intimate state.

He rushed forward and wrapped her in his arms. Her body froze, still processing what the hell he was doing breaking into her home like that.

“He said they’d come for you,” Bucky gasped into her hair.

“What? Who?” She pulled back to look at him.

“Pierce.”

Then Y/N’s whole body froze. Her mind was working, figuring everything out.

That’s when Bucky realized his mistake. Pierce’s men didn’t know how to find Y/N. But they knew he did. So they gave him an empty threat and waited for him to lead them right to her.

Before he could vocalize the terrible mistake he’d made. Gun shots were breaking through the glass.

Bucky yanked Y/N to the ground and shielded her body with his own.

Glass and debris fell around them as gunshots continued firing.

Bucky cupped Y/N’s face to the crook of her neck, praying to a God he didn’t believe in that his body was enough to protect her.

He managed to hear Sam and Steve screaming into a phone, telling their men of the attack and called for backup.

Time felt like it was both slowing down and speeding up simultaneously.

Bucky couldn’t figure out how long they lay there when the gunshots finally stopped.

He pulled away and lifted himself off of Y/N’s body. She blinked up at him. On instinct alone, he cupped her check. “You okay?” She nodded.

“Buck, you alright?” Steve called from the other side of the room.

“Yep. You guys good?” He called back. Not taking his eyes off Y/N.

“Pretty much. Sam’s head got grazed.” Steve called back.

“Bucky,” Y/N gasped. “You got shot.”

But he ignored what she said. He was too caught off guard by hearing her call him Bucky. She’d never done that before.

Then he suddenly felt the pain. It all came flooding to his nerves at once. He looked down to see that his left shoulder was covered in blood. He could feel it, the bullet lodged in his shoulder. He stumbled back at the lightheadedness.

“Steve, he got hit in the shoulder!” Y/N cried out as she rushed forward to steady him.

—————

Bucky glared at Steve from across the hospital room, “This is ridiculous.”

“You passed out from the shock and blood loss, punk. Stop acting like you didn’t get shot.” Steve fired back with annoyance. He sat in a visitor’s chair as he flipped through another magazine with boredom.

“This place smells like death and the food sucks,” Bucky mumbled.

“Maybe it smells like death because you almost died.”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

Then his mind wandered as he stared out the window.

“Y/N… is she…”

“Fury came with her men. They took her to a secure safe house. She’s fine, Buck. I promise. Whatever’s left of Pierce’s crew, they’re too worried about their own skins to follow through with their dead boss’ wishes.”

Bucky nodded slowly, trying to convince himself that Y/N was okay.

Steve watched his best friend carefully. “You know, she practically ripped her arm out of its socket trying to get to you as Fury pulled her away.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered back to his friend and narrowed. “I highly doubt that.”

“She cares about you,” Steve confirmed. “I would go as far as to say she might damn well love you, Buck.”

But the mobster ignored him.

—————

Months went by. Word passed on the street that Pierce had been murdered and his gang disbanded, and the Black Serpent was responsible. That’s why no one had heard anything about the mysterious mob boss for so long. They were keeping a low profile.

Bucky and his men were the only ones that knew the truth.

But they had all been sworn to secrecy.

Things slowly turned back to normal.

Now that Pierce’s industry had been ruined, Bucky picked up the broken pieces and rebuilt. He owned strip clubs now. But there were no underground sex clubs, no prostitutes, no sex trafficking. Everything was clean. The girls were taken care of and protected. They felt safe and they made their living.

Bucky was taking a day off, something he can’t remember doing in years. He was drinking a glass of scotch and watching the game when there was a knock on his door.

He wasn’t expecting company and no unwanted visitors got past his guards alive.

His brow furrowed as he grabbed a hidden gun and slowly made his way to the door.

He looked through the peephole and was shocked to see what was on the other side.

Bucky whipped open the door to see Y/N waiting patiently. “Sam let me up,” she answered his unspoken question. “Can I come in?”

He nodded and opened the door wider for her. His head dipped out and looked both ways down the hallway. His guards gave a slight nod to him before he closed his door again.

When he turned around in his apartment, he was able to take Y/N in as she observed his home. She was dressed in an outfit that was in between her professional persona and her true self. It was something Bucky had never seen before.

Then Bucky looked at his apartment too. It was so different to hers. It was cold and luxurious. But it lacked identity or anything that would give a hint to his personality.

“I didn’t know you were back in town…” Bucky spoke carefully.

She nodded. “Can’t seem to stay away from this godforsaken city for long.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked then.

“Just wanted to check on you.” She admitted.

“No need. I’m good.”

Y/N shook her head. “OK. Fine. I wanted to see you.”

Bucky swore his heart stopped at the confession.

“Why didn’t you come find me?” She quickly added, leaving him no time to respond to her confession.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to…” Bucky admitted.

“You got shot trying to protect me. I saw you pass out, covered in your own blood. That’s the last time I saw you,” her eyes clouded over as she remembered the image.

“I only had to protect you because I was the one who put you in danger,” Bucky pointed out. “You were right. You can take care of yourself. I made a mess of things. I thought it was best that I stay away.”

“I wish you hadn’t.” She whispered.

Bucky blinked, convinced this was some sort of dream. There was no way Y/N was standing in his apartment and saying such things to him.

“You’re too good for me, Y/N.” He whispered back.

Y/N laughed at the ridiculousness. “And what, you just started thinking this?”

Bucky shook his head, “No, I’ve always known that. I knew it the moment I met you.”

“Well…” Y/N sighed. “If you’re so convinced I’m too good for you, why did you stick around all that time? Why’d you keep asking me out?”

Bucky didn’t say anything.

“You put yourself and your men in danger trying to help my cause.” Y/N added aggressively. “You risked your life protecting me.”

Bucky gained a sad smile and looked at the ground. “Here’s the thing, doll. I don’t think there’s a man on this earth who’s good enough for you. I thought – I just thought I’d rather you end up with one that realizes that and does everything in his power to become worthy of you.”

“Then fight for me.” Y/N gasped.

Bucky watched her for a moment.

“Fight for me, Bucky.” She repeated.

He couldn’t help himself anymore. He rushed forward and pulled her to him, crashing his lips against hers. Y/N welcomed the aggression and yearning. Then she matched it.

Bucky pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m never going to stop fighting for you.” He promised.

And she believed, with every fiber of his being, that he would.

Black Serpent - Drabbles & Headcanons I don’t know why I bother trying to write one-shots. They just end up being full-blown fucking fics. 🙄

Anyways, thanks for reading. Tell me what you thought.  I’ve considered writing drabbles based on this 

AU/universe, that take place after this one-shot. Let me know if you have any suggestions. Key Word: DRABBLES. NOT other one-shots. 

[huntertales]

Part One: Movie Night. (Clip Show S08E22)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader share a bitter reunion with Castiel after finding the angel beaten and bloody in the middle of the road. While digging through the Men of Letters’ files, they stumble upon an undiscovered film which could be the key to completing the third trial. Meanwhile, Crowley digs into the reader and boys’ past, putting people they saved in mortal danger.  Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,472.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

You tried your hardest to keep your attention on the case file you had been trying to read over for the past five minutes, one of the few you had left. A perk of living in an underground bunker built and maintained by the Men of Letters was that there were generations of them, collecting a vast amount of information you couldn't find on the internet or a book at the library. They had almost everything when it came to research material. Something in this place was the key to figuring out what the third trial meant when it came to "curing a demon." You'd do anything to complete the trials and be done with this once and for all. Even if it meant spending hours going through old cases to find answers.

Flipping to the last page in the file, you looked up for a second when you heard the sound of footsteps heading over to you and Sam. You grimaced at the sight of how many folders Dean was holding in his hands after going through the archives fetching out what was demon related. Somehow even if you managed to get the older Winchester involved with looking through these, you still had days of reading ahead until you made even the slightest dent in the Men of Letters' information at your fingertips. 

"Please tell me that's everything." You said, almost pleading with the man

"Yeah." Dean said. You felt the slightest amount of relief at the possibility that you could be done with this angle, but he thought it would be funny to lie to you. You gave him an annoyed glare when he broke out into a smile and chuckled in amusement. "No, not even close. You see, the Men of Letters kept files on every demonic possession for the last three hundred years. I mean, we've got Borden, Lizzy, all the way to Crane, Ichabod."

You grabbed the files out of his hand and threw them with the rest you still had to look over. You thought going through cases was going to be a harmless task after how you acted just a few days ago. There was no denying, even to yourself, that these trials were affecting your body. You had to take it easy until you figured out how to finish this up. But even reading was starting to take a toll on you. You let out a frustrated groan when you felt a headache starting to come on. The dull throbbing pain made you clutch your head with both of your hands. 

All though you were no stranger to migraines, there was so many other repercussions from doing the trials you’d been struggling to deal with. All while trying to keep your lifestyle going at the same time. You had so much on your plate right now between the trials and your pregnancy, not to mention a possible case if it landed in your lap by chance. But you were doing everything in your power not to let this get the best of you.

"How are you feeling?" Sam couldn't help himself but ask, concerned at your well being like his brother from how you'd been acting lately. 

"Honestly? My whole body hurts. I feel nauseous and yet starving at the same time. And everything smells like rotting meat." You told the boys just a few of the symptoms you had been feeling lately. A little after you got pregnant, before all of this trial business started, the smell of meat alone made you feel queasy. Now the smell of decomposing meat was the only thing you could smell whenever you had to breathe. "God, the smell alone is making me want to vomit."

"I've had that hangover. Jaeger, man." Dean thought he could relate, turning what you said into a completely different angle. You gave him a look of disbelief from how completely opposite the two things were to each other.

"Maybe you should take a break." Sam suggested to you. "Get some air." 

"Sammy, I know you're trying to help, but a little outdoors isn't going to do any good for me." You said. "The only thing that is going to make me feel better is finishing this."

"All right, well, I'll get you some grub, keep your strength up." Dean said. He hoped that if you at least ate something you might start to feel a little better. Getting you to eat something was the real problem he had been trying to tackle since these trials were starting to hit you harder than you were letting on. "You or the baby craving anything in particular?"

You shook your head, leaving him to figure out a suitable meal for you that you’d most likely pick at before shoving away. You only said yes to make him think you were okay, despite how your stomach felt queasy all the time, getting worse at the thought of eating anything. "Hey, while you're going that way," Sam decided to ask his brother for a favor. "mind grabbing me a beer?"

Dean stared at his brother with an irritated expression from the simple request. “Are your legs broken?”

“Do you want to help with going through these cases instead?” Sam asked him, lifting up the new one he was about to look over.

You glanced up from the file you had been reading to see that Dean decided to choose grabbing his brother’s beer after all. Right as you were about to get back to work, you spotted a familiar face standing on top of the steps to the library, examining the bunker you had been calling home for the past few months now. You went right back to  the file when the both of you almost made eye contact with one another. You rested your elbow on the table to cradle your head in your palm, titling it just to block out Cas from your peripheral vision. 

“Morning.” The angel greeted you and the boys, acting like everything was fine. You kept your head down as Dean glanced Cas’ way before making his way into the kitchen to fix you something. Sam was the only one who tried to hide his anger towards the angel. He forced the tiniest smile to make the air less tense. Cas hoped that you would at least say something in return. But it seemed your silent treatment was rolling over into today. “I like this bunker. It’s orderly.”

“Oh, give us a few months.” Sam said. “Dean wants to get a ping-poll table.”

“I’ve heard of that.” Cas said, understanding the activity humans made. “It's a game, right?”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance from how he still didn’t properly understand human knowledge at this point. However your anger towards him softened ever so slightly when you heard him let out a groan of pain. You looked up to see that he moved faster than his body could handle, causing the angel to lean against a chair and holding his side that was still sore. Having the angel tablet ripped out from your abdomen can do that to someone. A small part of you wanted to tell him to shut the hell up and suck it up. But you couldn’t do that to him.

You dropped your arm back down to the table when you were starting to become concerned at the serious pain he was in. The sight made you ask about his well being, an even bigger part of you wanted to know that he was at least going to survive long enough for one of you to  rip him a new one for the stunt he pulled. “Are you okay?”

“My wound isn't healing as quickly as I'd hoped...But I am getting better.” The angel reassured you. You were partly relieved to hear he was on the mend, but some weren’t lucky as him. “And you're getting worse.”

You felt your hand slowly tighten itself into a fist at his warning you didn’t want to hear right now. “Why should I trust anything you say to me?”

“Because I’m a celestial being that can see what the human eye can’t.” Cas said. You didn’t seem to like the angel’s answer from the look that crossed your face. He went on, giving him the real reason why he was concerned for how you were handling these trials. ��And I’m your friend, Y/N.”

“Right. Some kind of friend you are.” You muttered under your breath. “You really need to look up the definition for that word again before you start throwing it around. Because my friends don’t do what you did to us.”

“I’m worried about you hurting yourself.” Cas said, hoping you would understand where he was coming from. “That’s all.”

You could see in his face that he was truly sorry for the things he had done. There was nobody to blame blunt himself for running off without even a reason why. You knew his actions leading up to his disappearance weren’t his fault. But what he did after was all on him. You wanted him here while you were doing the trials for moral support. Maybe having an extra set of hands would have stopped Kevin from having a mental breakdown after being tortured by Crowley in his own mind. You wished Cas just stuck around. Maybe things would have turned out differently. Instead he chose to ignore you when you needed him the most.

Every instinct told you to hate the angel for the things he did to you. He failed you so many times. But you couldn’t. He was your best friend who stuck with you through thick and thin. He was the one who confirmed your pregnancy and kept the secret when you asked him to. You weren’t perfect. You failed. You cared about the angel much as you did for the boys. But he was frustrating at times from the actions he took. It was going to take a long time until you could even think about trusting him again. 

“I’m fine.” You told him the lie you kept repeating to everyone when they asked. Your tone of voice was hard and distant enough for the angel to understand you didn’t want to have this conversation with him anymore. “I’ve got two trials down without your help. Only one more to go before all of this is over.”

”And this final test,” Cas asked you, “do you know what it is?”

“I have to cure a demon.” You said. 

“Of what?” The angel’s response made you chuckle slightly. 

“I’ve got no idea.” You said. “That’s what me and Sammy are trying to figure out.”

There wasn’t much Cas could do, even if you did let him be a part of this. You turned your attention back over to the file you were reading for a few moments before you heard the sound of Dean’s footsteps coming up for the kitchen with a tray in his hands. Whatever he managed to scrape together was most likely going to be pushed away. You weren’t in the mood to force yourself to eat something. He approached the table with a tray holding the meal intended for you, along with the beer Sam requested. 

“Soup’s on. There we go.” Dean placed the tray between you and his brother. Right as the younger man was about to grab his drink, Dean took it upon himself to take a quick sip, wanting to make sure it was still good. The only thing that went fast in this place was beer. Still, he couldn’t be too sure. “I think this is, uh...Oh, it's still good.”

“Okay, that’s just gross.” Sam’s face scrunched up in annoyance at the childish thing his brother just did. While was down the drink he requested, Sam looked over the meal that was intended for you. “Really, Dean? A half drunk beer, jerky and three peanut butter cups?”

“You know I can’t eat meat.” You reminded him of the few things that had been banned from the place since you got pregnant. The number one thing was dead animal, just the slightest smell was unbearable. “Even if it is shriveled up.”

“Yeah, we're—we're running a little low.” Dean realized how pitiful and unhealthy the meal was. Considering how little you had been eating lately you needed all the nutrition you could get from the foods you managed to get down. You raised your brow slightly from what he was thinking, Dean decided to fix his mistake. “I'll make a run.”

“Dean, I can go with you.” Cas spoke up with an offer he could the older Winchester would take. He’d been trying everything he could think of to get to speak a single word in his direction since the night before. Dean kept his streak going, acting as if the angel didn’t exist as he headed over to a chair he had placed his jacket. “Dean. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Dean casually asked, pretending not to know what the angel was trying to apologize for. 

“For everything.” Cas said.

“Everything? Like, uh...Like ignoring us?” Dean wondered if that’s what the angel meant by his apology. Cas nodded his head. While it was nice to see the angel take responsibility for the actions that he took, that wasn’t what was really hurt Dean. It was ignoring him when he needed his best friend the most. Beating him with an inch of his life and vanishing into thin air just seconds after healing him. The angel had been so unpredictable these past few years. Dean couldn’t take it anymore. “Or like bolting off with the Angel Tablet, then losing it 'cause you didn't trust me? You didn't trust me.”

Cas admitted to all of the faults he did over the past few months, all the hurt and anger he had put on you. He’d do anything to make it right, starting with apologizing. “Yes.”

“Yeah. Nah, that's not gonna cut it. Not this time.” Dean said. He’d been down this path with him a few too many times. And while he looked past all the angel’s mistakes, there was no going back this time. He had too much to lose if he let him back in his life. “So you can take your little apology and you cram it up your ass.”

“Dean, I thought I was doing the right thing.” The angel told him the truth about why he did all those things, hoping if Dean knew the mindset he was under, maybe he could start to understand. But it only made it worse. He used that excuse before. And it caused pain Dean would never be over. 

“Yeah,” Dean muttered under his breath, letting his words be just loud enough for the angel to overhear them. “You always do.”

While the argument unfolded between the two about their unresolved issues, you and Sam were witness to the entire fiasco. You were still upset with Cas for your own personal reasons. You had a feeling Dean's stemmed much deeper than the angel understood. Trust to the older Winchester was one of the most important things to him. He rarely gave it out to people, and almost never welcomed someone back into his life after being stabbed in the back. He'd done it to Cas before, but you had a feeling from how he lashed out, it wasn't going to happen again. 

Sam cleared his throat, shifting the conversation back to what you and the boys had been working on earlier today before the angel made an appearance. "Hey, uh, do we have a room 7B?”

You and the boys decided to go on the hunt for this mysteriously room, leaving Cas to process how badly he screwed up with no chance of return. The bridge between Cas and Dean was burned, and you had a feeling nothing could repair the damage done. You were upset with the angel for obvious reasons, but you weren't badly hurt as Dean was. You understood where he was coming from, yet you wondered if he was being a little too harsh on the poor angel. Cas was like a puppy that still needed to be trained on the right thing to do. He peed on the carpet and chewed up all your shoes, despite all of the harm he caused, the angel was still your friend. It's not like any of you were innocent who didn't royally screwed up things from time to time. You spotted the room number after a minute of walking and headed inside first. 

“Dude, go easy on Cas, okay.” Sam was on the same side as you were on this situation. He was upset with what happened, yet he still wanted to somehow mend the friendship he had with the angel. You felt around for a light switch, letting the room fill with enough light to get by. "He’s one of the good guys.” 

“Dude, if anybody else—I mean anybody—pulled that kind of crap, I would stab them in their neck on principle.” Dean defended himself. “Why should I give him a free pass?”

“Because it’s Cas. He was..." You felt yourself momentary pausing when you realized the words that were coming out from your mouth. The look that crossed Dean’s face at how you were parroting the angel's flimsy excuse. You let out a quiet sigh, rolling your eyes from what you were doing, despite how you still felt about Cas yourself. "He was only trying to help."

“What are we supposed to be looking for down here?” Dean always had a habit of changing the subject when it got too uncomfortable for him. He pulled out a tiny flashlight from his pocket and began walking around the storage room filled with countless boxes and shelves. 

“Anything on case one-one-three-eight. It was a class five infernal event—St. Louis, March 8th, 1957.” Sam said. You pulled out your own flashlight from your back pocket and began walking around the place, trying to find a box with the same numbers. Dean asked about what the whole mumbo jumbo about the class five event. “Yeah. See, the Letters have this whole rating system. ‘The Exorcist’ would have been a class two.” 

“All right, so, what makes this puppet show so special?” Dean asked. 

“It was weird.” Sam said. You furrowed your brow slightly from the description of the case. You wondered exactly what the person meant when they meant by just weird. Sam shrugged his shoulders when you asked him just how strange it was. “No clue. One of the files just had a note written in the margin about room 7B and the word ‘weird’ with three exclamation points.” 

You let out a sigh from the lack of answers you had what exactly what you were looking for. You had no clue what you were looking for in the endless pile of boxes and files, and even if what caught Sam’s interest tied into what you needed to be focused in the first place. While the Men of Letters weren't exactly descriptive on what they thought was weird, at least they kept a tidy place. While you were going over every box on the shelf and looking for the case number Sam had told you about, it seemed the boys had found something interesting. 

You turned your head to see that Dean had discovered a strange marking on the floor right as Sam discovered the box. You walked over to Dean when he crouched down on the ground to inspect it even further. Dean felt a cool breeze coming out from underneath the shelves, which meant only one thing. You stepped back and called for Sam's attention as his brother got to work on figuring out what was behind the shelves. It seemed they were multi-purposeful. Not only did they hold boxes of useful information that might come in handy one day, they were also a set of sliding doors that lead to another part of the bunker. As if you thought you knew everything about this place, it always liked to surprise you with the things it could offer.

“Is that a devil’s trap?” You asked, spotting a familiar symbol painted on the floor. 

“It takes up half the room.” Dean noticed how big they had made it. 

You drew your flashlight over the trap to see that Dean was right, it was huge, practically taking almost the entire space. You looked around to see there were other things in the room that were peculiar. There wasn’t a single piece of furniture, more along the lines of chains—some were hanging from the ceiling, a few on the walls, even a set on the ground. But these weren’t your typical iron set of chains to hold someone. You stepped forward to grab one dangling in the air and inspected the cuff, your finger traced over the engravings that were slightly familiar to you. Along with something else you weren’t quite sure what it was. 

“These chains,” You turned your head to the boys and showed them what you discovered. “They have spell work etched into them.”

“So we have a dungeon.” Dean said. You looked around the room, taken aback at the place the previous owners rightfully had locked away. This was probably where they interrogated demons and poked at them, trying to figure out what those blacked eyed freaks were all about. Dean took it a whole other direction. “Finally!”

You scoffed to yourself after hearing Dean’s take away from discovering a dungeon in the bunker, you flashed your light over on him to blind the man. “I really hope you’re leaning more towards the ‘torture’ kind than the ‘sexy’ kind.”

“Best of both worlds, sweetheart.” Dean’s response and the way he playfully winked at you after made you roll your eyes once again from how he could be. He turned his attention back to the object his brother had found that he was currently still holding. “What do you got there?”

Sam pulled out what could only be an old film reel from the paper bag it’s been in for over fifty years, “Movie night?”

It wasn't too hard to find an old projector to help make screening the film easier. You and the boys headed to the library and set things up, still not exactly sure what you were about to witness. If it was in the files you found about demonic possessions you guessed the film was about just that. Possibly they filmed an exorcism that went in a very strange direction like one of them reported. You got comfortable in your seat and watched as the grainy screen counted down to the film until it changed into a shot of someone directing the camera on someone. It was a young priest from his clothing and the necklace with a cross hanging on his neck. He was sitting on a set of stairs smoking, appearing rather nervous and apprehensive from what he was about to park take in. 

"Simon, we're filming." The person holding the camera announced to the man, when you heard them speak, you noticed it was a woman. 

"Uh, hello, world." He greeted the camera with slight uncertainty. 

"That thing giving you any trouble?" 

You furrowed your brow slightly from the introduction of a male voice you heard off camera. It sounded male, and awfully familiar. The camera panned over to someone else—a man dressed in the fashion trend for the time period. Slacks and a white button up with no jacket, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow and his tie slightly undone. If you slapped a beard on him and made his slicked back hair a little longer, maybe even slightly messier, you'd bet all the money in the world that man was your father. It was a whole different version of him that you never saw before. This was back when he was still human...and a Men of Letters. 

"Not yet. She's working like a beaut." The woman said. Your focus was kept on your father, watching as he took out the lit cigarette from his mouth. "So this new ritual we're going to see, this new type of exorcism, how does it work?"

Your father appeared like he was about to tell them all about it, but before he could, a distant voice shouted his and Simon's name, urging them to come quick. He dropped his cigarette bud to the ground and crushed it with the heel of his shoe, Simon properly disposed of it by putting it out in an ashtray. The priest began to look more nervous as he glanced back to the camera.

“I don’t know.” Simon said. “It’s my first time.” 

"Don't worry. I've gotten all the proper research done. And I’ve sat in on a few of these. Nothing too bad has happened.” Your father reassured them from what they were about to witness. “It’ll be fine. I promise.” 

Father Simon and your father began walking into another part of the room with their camera woman following behind. You felt your brow tightening together when you saw her get a glimpse of her own self in the mirror. It was a face you'd seen just a few months ago wearing a dead girl’s clothes. And instead of operating a camera she was having her fun with you and the boys, along with being responsible for the death of Henry Winchester. Abbadon, a knight of Hell. What she was doing in a Men of Letters’ based project raised some questions of your own. 

“Am I going crazy, but is that Abbadon?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask.

“It’s not kill-y enough.” Dean said. “It’s gotta be the chick she’s possessing.” 

You turned your attention back to the film, watching as the three of them headed to an open space lit with at least a dozen or so more candles, Father Simon grew more nervous when he heard another scream come from someone off screen. There was a sudden cut before the camera picked up again on an open book before backup on another priest, someone who was older than the others. He seemed to be urgent and impatient, 

“Hurry. We must do it now.” He told all of them.

The camera turned to a woman who was on her knees, her wrists and neck were locked in a set of chains that were bolted to the ground with no chance of her to escape. Despite all of her grunts and screams, she couldn’t get out of this even if she wanted. You noticed her eyes were inky black, something you only associated one thing with. “Dead! They’re all dead! Everyone you’ve ever loved!” She exclaimed to the people, thinking it would scare them into submission, but the only person who seemed scared by the demons words were Father Simon.

"Hey, those chains look exactly like the one in our dungeon." Sam noted. 

“In your what?” Cas was surprised at the words that just came out of the younger Winchester’s mouth. You must’ve forgot to inform the angel about your discovery. 

“Demon on a leash—cool.” Dean said. 

You kept on watching as the camera took a few shaky cuts before you saw your father grab a bottle from the table. He cautiously toed the line of the devil's trap, trying to keep himself at a safe distance while the demon thrashed and screamed, doing everything she could to break free. He managed to take her off guard when he splashed what could only be holy water in her face. Her skin burned as he quickly stepped back, yelling for the two priests to start. The older priest walked forward as Father Simon followed behind. He seemed suddenly terrified now as he stuck out his shaky right arm with a set of rosary beads hanging in his hand. 

“Exorcizamus, te, omnis immundus spiritus...hanc animam redintegra...Lustra!” The older priest chanted a series of words that sounded like Latin, only one of them sounded familiar. He pulled out a knife and cut his palm, drawing up blood. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but what you saw unfold on the screen was nothing you could have guessed. He slapped his bloody palm against the demon’s mouth and shouted another word of Latin. “Lustra!” 

 A sudden burst of light peered through the demon's mouth and eyes, blinding the camera for a few seconds before the chaos dwindled down. You heard a few shuffling feet as the camera turned around to face the woman, wanting to make sure it was okay. You swore you could hear your father's voice say something along the lines of "Damn it, not again" before someone mentioned that "she's dead." You leaned forward in your seat as the woman pointed the camera back to the demon, who was lying on the floor. Her chest cavity was ripped wide open, and her eyes back to normal. It appeared something in their plan went south. “Where’s the demon?” She asked them. “Andrew, what happened?”

“Stop filming.” The older priest ordered. 

She turned the camera back to Father Simon, who appeared to be terrified and shaken up from what he witnessed. You looked over to see that your father was in the background, his hands on his hips, doing everything he could not to lose his temper. "What happened?" She asked again, wanting some answers.

“Will you just stop?!” Your father shouted at her in frustration. 

The last shot before the screen turned black was of him rushing over towards her, placing out his hand and shoving the camera down to the ground. You heard the projector run out of film, prompting Sam to turn it off, leaving the four of you even more baffled at what you just saw. 

“Well, that was weird…” Dean said. “With three exclamation points.” 

“I’d tack a few more on because of the whole, you know, seeing your dead parent and a woman before she got possessed by a demon working together." You said. The same demon who admitted to you about being responsible for turning your father into her own kind. You still weren't sure what you stumbled on, but you knew it wasn't the run of the mill routine of trying to get rid of a demon. "That wasn't a normal exorcism. They changed up the words."

“I believe ‘lustra’ is Latin for wash or cleanse.” Cas said. 

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause that was the most freaky thing was the vocabulary. What about the bloody high five or the chest burster?” Dean brought up a few strange things they had done, nothing in which made sense. “Anything else on the film, like director’s commentary, sequel maybe?”

“Even better. Listen to this.” You said, getting up from your seat and heading over to the table where Dean and Cas were sitting at to show them the things you found. “The older priest, Max Thompson, bit the dust in '58. But the younger one is still alive and still in St. Louis.” 

“Think this kind of weird is worth the drive?” Dean asked you. 

"Guys, everything in those folders—the possessions, the deals all of it—we've seen that before. But that-- " You pointed over to the screen to make your reason why this was so important to follow this lead. "That was all new. Yeah, it's worth the drive."   

"All right. Let's roll." Dean said. You shut the laptop and headed over to where you last put your jacket. It seemed someone thought they were included, but Dean made sure to set the record straight for the angel before he could try and tag along. “Not you.”

“Y/N is more damaged than I am.” Cas said, as if that was a perfectly reasonable excuse. 

“Yeah, well, you know,” Dean said. “even banged up, Y/N comes through.”

“Dean,” The angel spoke up again, catching the hunter before he could head out and end this conversation before he could be given an opportunity to explain himself. “I just want to help.”

“We don’t need your help.” Dean snapped at him. “Just stay here and get better.” 

There wasn’t much more the angel could say to make this situation better. He made his bed, and now it was time for him to lay in it. You knew it was for the better to have Cas stay here and out of trouble. While he might have been right about you being worse, you were still capable of walking around and getting to the bottom of this. You felt something about the film was important to the third trial. Everything was coming together...and you had a feeling some unanswered questions you carried for years might finally be solved.

[Next Part]

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[theaceace]

Soooooooo that alternate ending to the final resting place? I wrote a tiny snippet. Oops. I’m not putting it on AO3 since I don’t think I’ll be finishing it, but here we are. Feel free to enjoy (or not!)

Juno comes to slowly. He's sat propped against a wall, just starting to slump to one side - he thinks that maybe that's what woke him. His head throbs in time with his roaring pulse, and when he grimaces, the side of his face feels tight. Like there's something crusted there, flaking away like dried paint with every minute twitch of his face. He tries not to think about it, fails, tries a little harder, and only succeeds in making the throbbing in his mind worse.

Cracking his eye open feels like the worst mistake he's made so far today, which is honestly a pretty impressive achievement considering how the rest of the day had gone down. Pain shoots through his skull, takes a detour around the nape of his neck, and comes shooting right back up again. It hurts; more than getting shot, more than losing his - well. Still trying not to think about it. 

It takes him a long time to push himself into a position that resembles standing, if standing has come to mean 'hunched over with both hands braced on the wall trying not to vomit' in the time he'd been unconscious. Hey; stranger things have happened.

By the time the heaving in his stomach has settled, Juno's managed to take stock of his own condition, and yeah, it's not great; but, more importantly, that condition seems to be, as far as he can tell... Alive. Which is better than he'd honestly expected. So, with his own condition assessed and subsequently dismissed as unimportant, he turns to give the room the same treatment.

The panel is just a few steps away, but they're steps Juno doesn't really feel up to taking right now. The room is silent enough that even his breaths seem to echo through the chamber. There's no hum of machinery, no rasp in the back of his mind, no thready whine from the control panel, a few feet away that might as well be half a planet. No way he'll be making that journey anytime soon. 

"Nureyev?" Juno calls, and immediately chokes on the dry click of his throat. He hacks up what feels like half a lung, until he can breathe well enough to try again. "Nureyev?"

Nothing. Juno can't breathe, can’t think, this time around the panic curling through his chest. The bomb had gone off, sure, but the point of this room was to contain it, and besides, he'd survived, right?

Right?

But. But what if something had gone wrong? Miasma is gone, not even a pile of ash or stain on the floor to show she had ever existed. What if he gets outside and that's it, just more nothing, an entire planet of just nothing, stretching out across burnt red sand, and he's all that's left because of some screw up or accident, or -

He doesn’t know how much time passes before he manages to drag his mind out of the spiral it's got caught up in. There's no way of measuring time in here - he doesn't have his coms, and he doesn't trust his body clock as far as he could metaphorically throw it right now. He doesn't know what's going on outside of this room, and he isn't going to know until he can haul himself over to the door and let himself out. So, that's exactly what he does.

If pressed, he couldn't say exactly what he was expecting to see on the other side. But he's pretty sure it wasn't - nothing.

The hall is empty. Behind him, the door slides shut, hissing softly against the wall. He turns to look at it; like it might have an explanation to what's going on, but all it has is smears of blood, dried and dark. They start at face height, and drag down, with more along the edges of the door, around the frame. Like someone had tried to beat the door down, and pry it open when that failed. Like Nureyev had tried.

But there's no sign of him now. The blood is old, the compound silent. 

Juno takes a breath, shivers, drags a hand through his hair. He doesn't know where he's going, but he knows he can't stay here. Maybe - maybe Nureyev is trying to find another way in, or maybe he's looking for a first aid kit, or - 

Or. Yeah.

Still not thinking about it - Juno has got this repression thing down to an art, he's a goddamn modern day Michaelangelo, if Michaelangelo’s thing was squashing down thoughts instead of painting ceilings. Poets could write epic sagas dedicated to his mastery of repression, so he can definitely focus on walking to the end of the corridor, then turning, then walking down the next. He picks the corridors with floors that slope upward - if he keeps climbing, then he's bound to reach the surface eventually, right? That's just logic. Simple, linear progression, step A leads to step B leads to result C, and before he knows it, Juno's standing in the entrance of what looks a little like a garage, and a little like a dumping ground.

There are vehicles that had clearly been run into the ground, and then pushed a few miles further just for the hell of it; so beat up and twisted that Juno thinks it'll be a miracle if they don't just straight up explode as soon as they’re switched on. That would be a trick, huh? Survive the ancient Martian super-weapon only to perish in a slightly-less ancient car. 

Juno doesn't know what Miasma was doing with them, or why she didn't just scrap the older models, but he isn't about to complain - there are at least five bikes and cars still in serviceable condition. Maybe they'd belonged to some of her goons before she got all murder-happy. Maybe she just had the collector’s bug. Either way, he picks the nearest car that looks like it'll still lift off the ground and tumbles into the driver's seat.

He's lucky - the car is old, and so are the security measures it's fitted with. Juno’s under no illusions about his affinity for technology - or rather, his affinity for destroying it with a flair that would make Nureyev envious. Rita could hack any vehicle she so chose in a matter of seconds with sharp eyes and nimble fingers flying over the coms she kept permanently half in one ear and half in her pocket. Juno, on the other hand? He's a touch more old-fashioned.

The main control panel is loose, easy to pull away – there’s a tangled nest behind it, and he has to blink a few times before his vision clears enough to pick out the individual wires. He'd spent enough years watching Benten do this - vibrating with nerves in the passenger seat, because even though it was his idea, he'd still been convinced the HCPD would give a shit about two teenagers jacking a car in the depths of Oldtown - that his fingers connect wires without need for conscious thought. Which is lucky, because he doesn't reckon he could muster a conscious thought if he tried. He’s exhausted.

The car wheezes to life around him, and the door to the garage creaks open automatically on sensing a moving vehicle. The radiation shield of his new ride is weak, flickering, but he doesn't need it to last long. The GPS on the car is threaded with static, but it's enough to tell him where the nearest hospital is; Olympus Mons is a short drive, short enough that he can probably make it without swooning over the wheel.

It isn't until he's tearing across the desert that he realises he hadn't seen the RUBY7 anywhere.

They can’t save his eye. The thought should hurt more than it does – Juno vaguely considers words like ‘shock’, and ‘compartmentalising’, and then promptly decides that the more he thinks about it, the more likely it is to start hurting, so he compartmentalises his compartmentalising.

Maybe he was onto something with the shock idea. Or maybe he’s just so relieved that he isn’t the last human alive on Mars that everything else has faded into insignificance in his bomb-addled brain. Juno isn’t sure, and the nurse just gives him a wary look from the corner of their eye when he tries asking, before having a very heated whisper-argument with the doctor. Ordinarily, Juno would be eavesdropping for all he’s worth, especially since they’re talking about him, but he’s just too tired. He can barely keep his eye open, despite his instinctive mistrust of any kind of medical professional.

By the time he signs himself out – against the doctor’s advice, but the doctor was both drunk and inexperienced in the effects of Martian superweapons on the body, so Juno feels justified in ignoring him – he’s a few thousand creds lighter, and has nothing but a new stamp on his health card to show for it. Oh, and a sticky eyepatch that he plans on peeling off as soon as he’s found something to replace it; medical blue really isn’t his colour.

At the very least, though, he’d managed to get his hands on one of the hospital-issued coms that were supposed to be a 10-cred-a-minute charge, but that he, Mick, and Sasha had discovered worked for free if you hit it on the table at just the right angle before dialling. They’d spent enough time in and out of hospitals as teenagers, after all.

It wasn’t until he’d had the comms in his hand, though, that Juno realised the fatal flaw in his plan – he’d had no way of contacting Nureyev. Not like he could just look the man up, even if he knew more than two of his hundreds of aliases; Nureyev burnt names like people in Oldtown burnt cop cars. That was to say; frequently, thoughtlessly, and to the immense irritation of local law enforcement. So, calling Nureyev was out. Juno had thought, briefly, about calling Rita, before he realised that he’d never managed to memorise her coms number, and she’d scrubbed herself off every database after the salesman case four years ago. He had it saved on his own coms, of course, and it was pretty rare that he had to call when she wasn’t already in the office anyway.

Which meant he’d had to call the office.

“Hiiiiiiiii,” Rita’s voice had mocked him. The same message he’d got at the Oasis, repeated over and over each time he tried. She never picked up; he’d left a message for her, but he had no way of knowing how soon she’d hear it, and there had been no point taking the coms with him – they were designed to only work in a ten-foot radius of the hospital building.

Rita could hook one up to work anywhere she so pleased, Juno knows; he’s watched her do it. Twice.

So here he is, back in the beat up little car that won’t hold a shield together long enough to get him back to Hyperion City, with nothing but a handful of creds in his pocket, a raging headache that he hadn’t wanted to pay extra to fix, and the barest hint of a plan starting to form in his mind. He starts the car, listens to the engine shriek for a minute, and turns out onto the freeway heading towards Hyperion.

[pledis-17-trash]

BTS Reaction to finding out you smoke:

This was literally requested months and months ago, so I'm sorry it took so long!!!🙃

Jin-You hadn’t exactly been keeping your smoking habit a ‘secret’ from Jin, you just consciously chose to smoke away from him. Like you knew he would scold you for smoking, but it was something you used as a stress reliever, it wasn’t a daily thing or anything like that, just an occasional thing. You, of course, never smoked in your apartment because if you were honest you actually hated the smell, so you chose to smoke outside your apartment building. One night you were outside just finishing your first cigarette in a week when he turned the corner to come to your apartment. You had completely forgot he was coming over and tried to waft away the remaining smoke before he saw, but he already knew what you were up to. 'That’s really bad for you you know Y/N…“ He said raising an eyebrow at you as you quickly threw away the remaining part of the cigarette. "Yeah i know, its just a casual thing it’s not like i smoke 20 a day…” You replied defensively. “It’s not a good habit to have at all Y/N, you should quit.” Jin stated bluntly following you inside. You knew he was right so you just nodded along with him.

Suga- Yoongi had been looking all over your apartment for his car keys while you were showering when he accidentally knocked your bag off the coffee table allowing its contents to spill out over the floor. Two of those items being a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Yoongi scrunched his face up as he pieced together that you’d been hiding your smoking habit from him, so that’s why you always carried body sprays everywhere with you. You emerged fro the bathroom to see him holding the pack of cigarettes in his hand. “Do you smoke?” He asked you straight up. “Yes.” You replied simply going to take the packet out of his hands, but he jerked his arm back holding it out of your reach. “Are you dumb? You know how bad for you that is?” You sighed hanging your head down for a few seconds, “Yes i know how bad it is for me.” You responded, not wanting to listen to his lecture. “So quit.” He said. “Fine.” You replied shrugging your shoulders. “Promise?” He asked. “I promise Yoongi…” You replied, slightly annoyed but also slightly relieved he had found out about your bad habit.

Namjoon- “Are you crazy? Do you know how many chemicals are in those? Cancer causing chemicals?” You had just came home from a night out with your friends to Namjoon who was grilling you over a photo of you holding a cigarette in your fingers. “It’s just a social thing relax…” You replied not wanting to argue over it. You knew he was right, but you really were just a social smoker. “Don’t you know you make the best friends in the smoking area?” You added raising an eyebrow at him. He rolled his eyes in response, “You’re not funny Y/N, smoking is a bad habit whether you do it every day or once a week.” You sighed at how much of a fuss he was making. “Jeez, if it bothers you that much i won’t do it again… but you’re responsible for all the friends i don’t make in the smoking area’s…” Namjoon pulled a face at your statement. “Good… I’m sure i’m better than all those friends anyway…”

JHope- Hoseok caught you in the act of smoking out on your apartment balcony. You didn’t even try to hide what you were doing, just carrying on with it as he came out and stood next to you. “That stinks.” He said crunching his nose up at you. “Go back inside then?” You replied carrying on smoking whilst staring out over the city. “I don’t like that Y/N.” He stated bluntly trying to reach for the lit cigarette in your hand, but you moved out of the way. “Seriously what are you doing?” You tutted as he took another step towards you. “No, what are you doing? You know what all the side effects of smoking are?!” He replied slightly raising his voice. “It’s just something i use to relax okay, i don’t chain smoke!” Hoseok sighed in response clearly growing irritated with you. “Will you just stop okay? It’s a horrible thing to do to your body and besides, i can think of better ways to help you relax…”

Jimin- “Y/N, how long have you smoked?” He asked bluntly, observing the packet of cigarettes hanging out of your coat pocket. “Dunno, since like college…” You replied with a shrug of your shoulders. Jimin nodded his head, “What so three years?”. “Yeah something like that, why?” You asked continuing with what you were busy doing. You sensed Jimin get up and walk past you, pulling the packet out of your coat as he did, before emptying the contents into a nearby rubbish bin. “Hey what are you doing?!” You demanded, catching on to what he had just done. “I’m doing you and your health a favour! You shouldn’t smoke! Every cigarette you smoke lowers your life span Y/N! Three years is a lot of time to lose, i can’t let you lose anymore…” You let out a small grumble knowing he was right, maybe with Jimin’s support you’d actually be able to quit smoking for good this time.

Taehyung- “But think of how much money you could save if you quit!” Taehyung was in the middle of giving you a speech on why you should quit smoking after he found an almost empty packet of cigarettes in your bag. “Think of all the nice things you could buy with the money you spend on those death sticks!” You rolled your eyes at his dramatic actions and flailing arm movements. “Death sticks?” You repeated with a raised eyebrow. “Yes death sticks. They’ll give you breathing problems or cancer and then you’ll die. And you can’t die because you’re my girlfriend and i need you. So yes. Death sticks!” When Taehyung said that he needed you, you couldn’t argue with him. “Fine, fine, just throw them in the trash…” You replied caving to his words.

Jungkook- “Can i try one?” Jungkook asked coming out to join you on your balcony where he’d occasionally seen you smoking before. “What? No you can’t.” You replied shaking your head at him. Jungkook pulled a face in response, “Why not?” He asked reaching for the packet, with you held away from him. “Because you shouldn’t. It’s not good for you.” You responded. Jungkook’s face changed into a slight smirk. “So why are you still doing it then?” You sighed realising the point he’d just made. “Because i want to, besides it relieves stress…” Jungkook again reached for the packet, “I’m stressed too.” He stated again reaching for the packet for a third time. “Jungkook don’t be stupid you can’t smoke!” “Why not? You said you use it for stress? I’m stressed? I’m stressed because i keep noticing my girlfriend creeping away and coming back smelling of cigarette smoke, even though i tell her all the time how bad it is for her.” You sighed as threw the lit cigarette in your fingers over the balcony. “I know… i’m sorry i don’t listen to you it’s just a habit…” Jungkook smiled at your actions, “Just promise you won’t smoke anymore Y/N, i really don’t like it…”