#Fate and Firearms AU

[rinniiart]

|Fortune, Fate and Firearms AU|

Sneak peak featuring Glimmer's hot takes ~

[just-someone-who-likes-to-write]

Delayed Fate

(A/N): Hello everyone this is my first fic where I don't take requests ((And first Namor Fic!))but get ideas by spinning three wheels in an app. One wheel has characters that I like, Second sentences that I will be using, the third is the AUs it would be set in. The third Wheel has only Soulmates AUs, but if I got inspired I might add another AU to future stories, just to make them more interesting. Without further or do, I hope you enjoy this one.

Character: Namor / Ku'ku'lkán

Alphabet AU: A...Aging stops at 18 until you find your soulmate so the two of you can grow old together.

Sentence number: 40 - "Anywhere with you is everywhere I want to be."

Warnings: black panther forever spoilers, angst, mentions of injuries, fluff at the end, grammatic error. (If i missed any warnings please tell me.)

Word count: 9,724

Aging can be a terrifying process for most.

Growing older, becoming weaker, your body changing in ways you didn't expect or understand, and having to depend on others for the smallest of things. It is indeed terrifying. That is why some people would try and stay young as long as possible, and it's not by doing the usual thing where they would use pharmaceutical products or do surgeries. But they would be going as far as doing everything in their power to not meet their soulmate, the one person who they are meant to grow old with, to finally start their life together.

In this world, people stopped aging after their 18th birthday, when they are meant to go out and explore the world and meet people in hopes that one of them is their destined partner. But meeting a soulmate is like a cruel game of guessing because you would have to spend significant time with this person in order to see if you aged or not. When realizing that none of them aged the partners would either break up immediately or stay together for the sake of not being alone, but as said before, others would do everything in their power to disconnect themselves from people for the sake of an immortal life, which is foolish since there is no true immortality, everyone dies in the end, either by fate or beside the one they love.

That's why after (Y/n)'s 18th birthday she did not waste time and ventured into the world to meet people and have new experiences in hopes that one day she would meet the one who is meant for her and her for them. Now, the longest a person stayed 18 before meeting their soulmate was less than 50 years, so imagine her surprise, disappointment, and sadness when she spent almost 300 years alone.

In the first 100 years (Y/n) was crying, not only because she still haven't found the one, but also because she saw how the world around her was going by fast, her family was dying, her close friends who already found their soulmates were growing older, forcing her to be left behind as everyone around her was living their lives. She realized that she doesn't have a place around in her hometown so she decided to leave and find a home somewhere else. During her 200 years, she explored everything she could, the different cultures, learned different languages, and learned how to fight to protect herself from those who found out about her "Situation" and wanted to use her. Shield reached out to her and asked to help them build their organization with the promise of tending to her every need as long as she lived and she took it.

(Y/n) even came across magic users, which lead her to meet the ancient one who helped her accept this long life of hers, she stayed with them a good 40 years, learning what she could about magic since she did not have the talent for mystic arts. During that time (Y/n) has already several homes around the world, thanks to the money that she was investing and the money that Shield would provide her with, she owned several weapons, mechanics, firearms, and even traditional weapons. One day she heard of an artifact in the corners of Nigeria that might hold some magical power, she didn't know what it was but she knew that if it was dangerous she needed to keep it with her or at least deliver it to the ancient one.

That's how she met King T'Chanda and found out about Wakanda.

She remembered the look of pity he gave her when she told him her story, maybe that pity is the reason why he extended a hand of friendship, and to maintain this friendship she swore that she would never speak of his country's existence. Every few years she would go there and visit him, for a while he was the same as her. He lived as a young man for a long time, which made her understand the look of pity he gave her because he understood what she was going through. So her jealousy was also understandable when she came to visit one day and found him aged a few years with his hand wrapped around a beautiful woman who was pregnant. (Y/n) held no romantic feelings for the king, but she hoped selfishly that he would remain without a soulmate like herself, that she would at least have a friend like herself. But again, she forced herself to accept the reality that she would be alone for a very long time until something came to end her life, but up until that happens she would live her life the best she could.

Now, the great thing about the Wakandan Royal family is that they accepted her as she is, they did not give her weird looks nor did they attempt to experiment on her, like how most of the world acted. She remembered how annoyed she was when T'Chanda made his son T'Chaka call her "Great Aunt" and from then on she was called as such despite her very youthful look. But she accepted in the end and even enjoyed it a bit.

Then (Y/n) entered the 20th century and everything started to go crazy. She could handle the super soldier project because it was kind of expected after seeing in what way humanity's technology was taking, especially in the name of winning a war. Then there was the time when she found out that aliens existed, which means that alien invasion was inevitable so she took the right measures and that was staying away from it, because what can she do? Immortal or not she was still a human with no power, yes she has magical items that can be used as weapons but that would be risking exposing the existence of sorcerers so she decided to just stay back, after all, Fury assured her that he has a plan and that is by assembling a team of heroes.

Where was (Y/n) during all that? Having a very long vacation in Wakanda, where she was helping Shuri test her new inventions and helping her prank her brother. She would train with T'Challa and give him bits of advice that he might need as a future king. And, Of course, she would chat with T'Chaka and Ramonda and even lecture them, which was a funny scene for their children to see them being lectured by an 18-year-old girl. Yes, she had a really close connection to the Wakandan royal family, which was understandable when she helped T'Challa try and catch his father's assassin. (Y/n) got a lot of backlash because of it from Fury when he found out the truth. It caused her to be kicked out of shield, but she didn't care because she knew that if she stopped T'Challa from seeking revenge his anger would have blinded him further, and would have probably rebelled and caused further harm not only to himself and his family, so she allowed him to let out everything from his system knowing, in the end, he would be able to find his own way back.

So it was understandable how happy she felt when T'Challa came back with the said assassin wanting to help him recover after learning why he did what he did.

Then after that in a few years, the snap happened, and (Y/n) did not disappear like half of the universe. Because of Fury's disappearance, Shield contacted her begging her to come back and help them control the chaos, which she reluctantly did. She did not want to go but Queen Ramonda assured her that they will keep in touch and that Wakanda was probably more prepared than the rest of the world, which was engulfed in chaos.

(Y/n) might have lived centuries, but those 5 years felt longer and emptier. Jumping from country to country to help assert order, calling what is left of the Avengers to see if they had anything they could use, and when she has time she would contact Shuri and Ramonda. At the start of her, "immortality" (Y/n) would have depressive episodes that she struggled greatly with but thanks to the ancient one who helped her learn how to cope with it, she thought she got over it but there she was crying in her apartment wishing that all of it would just end, the loneliness is getting to her again and she was afraid that this time she won't be able to escape it.

Thankfully, Scott Lang showed up and gave them the hope to fix all of this. When they finally built the time machine (Y/n) told them that she was going back to Wakanda to tell them the good news, coincidentally, shortly after the time of her arrival the people who had disappeared in the middle of the battlefield materialized back. (Y/n) cried with joy as she saw T'Challa reunite with his family.

After the war was over (Y/n) resigned despite Fury's attempts to persuade her to stay, but she refused because she did not want to be alone anymore. She moved permanently to Wakanda, who welcomed her with open arms. She became an unofficial consultant to King T'Challa, whether it was concerning his people or his love life she was there to aid him, same with Shuri who always told her about different types of shields and weapons that she could create for (Y/n) to protect herself with since she was still just a human, she would keep Ramonda company when her children were too occupied with their work to be with her.

They were her family, her people, but she knew that one day she would have to say goodbye to them as she continued living, but she didn't expect that goodbye would come much too soon with T'Challa.

(Y/n) was with Shuri in the lab trying to help her think of how to bring the plant back to save him, if they could turn back time to save half the universe then why not bring back an extinct plant to save their king. But when T'Challa asked to see them, (Y/n) went while Shuri stayed back saying that she was so close and can't waste time.

"I… I have a request to make-" His words were cut off by a harsh cough, which caused (Y/n) to hurry to his side in an attempt to soothe him.

"Don't strain yourself." She lectured but T'Challa shook his head and waved his hand to those who were in the same room extracting them to leave them alone, before turning back to her.

"My great aunt…" He murmured with a tired smile, which caused (Y/n)'s heart to ache as she fought back tears.

"I know that I might be asking too much of you…" he uttered between gasps as he struggled to breathe. "Take it … as a dying man's … final wish…"

"Don't say that, Shuri and I will find a way to bring back the plant and you will be good again." she assured. "Just … please hang on a little bit longer."

He just smiled at her, which caused (Y/n) to break into tears, T'Challa squeezed her hand as a way to comfort her but it only made her cry more as his hold was also weak.

"I'm sorry to have caused you more pain…I know you had gone through enough loss… but…my time is coming soon, I can feel it." He tried to reason but (Y/n) only shook her head, refusing to acknowledge such truth. T'Challa decided to continue.

"Please look after them…" He finally confessed. "Not my mother and sister only…"

(Y/n) immediately understood the implication and looked at him and nodded as she wiped her tears.

"And don't tell Shuri…she is not ready… at least not now."

Throughout her life (Y/n) saw many different reactions to loss. Some cried and screamed until they had nothing else to let out. Others raged out, breaking everything in front of them and even fighting others. There are those few who ignored it and continue with life as if nothing had happened, very few accept it. but the reaction that she saw the most of, was acting hastily and irrationally. Whether it was by saying something they don't mean or doing something that they might regret later thinking it was the best decision while they were high on emotions. Both (Y/n) and the queen understood that things weren't safe enough to bring T'Challa's son, not only the world but also Wakanda, and if Shuri found out she would probably demand that the boy be brought back or she would go to him, which would risk his safety because they still don't know how she would act when she does meet him. So after the King's death, Ramonda and (Y/n) grieved with Shuri and did their best to help her cope with her emotions.

After a year of isolating herself in her lab, Ramonda decided to take Shuri out one night so she might connect with her daughter again, which (Y/n) encouraged. She expected many reactions after their return.

Anger, more sadness, neutral as if nothing happened, and the reaction she hoped for was happiness and acceptance, but what she did not expect was both of them to return with a look of pure fear and worry.

"There was this kid- well he looked like a kid but he isn't, he has wings on his ankles!... he just comes out from the water and started making demands-" Shuri was trying to explain to (Y/n) who was lost and trying to understand her.

"Shuri, breath dear, who are you speaking about?" (Y/n) Asked with great concern.

"He said his name was Namor."

When they explained her situation more clearly, (Y/n) to try and help them come up with a plan on what they should do, she told Ramonda how some will agree to just give him the American scientist to do whatever he wants with them and that others will demand a fight. She must be the neutral ground so that they won't dare judge any decision she makes. So she decided to just bring the scientist, to at least be protected by them, and then on they would negotiate with this "Namor" person.

"What if we took great aunt with us?" piped in Shuri and her mother and Okoye's not so whispered conversation. "Maybe even call in my favorite colonizer."

Ramonda was hesitant when she thought it was only Okoye and Shuri but having the great aunt with them reassured her a bit, that's why (Y/n) can't imagine how she must be as she stared up at the walls of the cave around her. She was the first to wake up after she, Shuri, and Riri were taken by the blue soldiers whom she assumed were Namor's. The women that were assigned to them, who were also blue, motioned for her to come with them, giving sleeping Shuri one last look (Y/n) hesitantly followed her to a room covered in murals, and in the middle of it He stood.

"I assumed you are Namor?" She questioned, earning his attention.

When their eyes met (Y/n)'s heart thumped heavily against her rib cage, her body felt as if something washed over her as if something was lifted, and looking at him she could tell he probably felt it too because he gave her a look of bewilderment. Before any of them could say anything another woman came and told him something and he replied to her an order before she bowed and left.

"It looks like the princessa is awake." He stated, his voice causing a shiver to go down her spine.

"If you dared to harm her, I swear to-"

"All of you surface dwellers are the same, always marching to fight without thinking." He replied.

"Says the guy whose people ambushed us on the bridge and then kidnapped us."

"If I remember correctly it was you who came to me willingly."

"And allow you to kill an innocent soul?"

"I will kill thousands if it meant the safety of my people!"

Before she could reply to him Shuri came in and stood between him and (Y/n), in an attempt to protect her after hearing his last statement.

"And if you dared to harm my great aunt it would be you who dies next!" She threatened while glaring at him.

"Great aunt?" Repeated Namor with a puzzled look as his eyes darted between Shuri and her. then it clicked, and he focused on (Y/n). "How old are you?"

"You know … up there it's rude to ask for a woman's age." (Y/n) jested as she deflected the question, not trusting him enough to tell him anything about herself.

Having a closer look at the boy in front of her she realized that he was also around her age, he had a lean yet fit body, and his face was bare from facial hair, the thing that is giving him some sense of maturity was the accessories that he wore but from the way that he was acting he must be like her, stuck in this young body until they met their significant other, she didn't know if he was older or younger than her but what she does now is that this long life can have different effects on people, and since he was so determined to protect his people to the level of taking innocent lives she can tell he was unbalanced.

He asked to talk to Shuri privately since she was only true royalty of Wakanda, but (Y/n) still insisted to keep a safe distance so she can see them, and every now and then her eyes met his when Shuri wasn't paying attention, it's as if he was examining her and she couldn't blame him because she was doing the same thing to him. (Y/n) protested when he offered for Shuri to see his home but the princess assured her that she was going to be safe, when she did come back after what felt like forever she was met with a tight hug.

"I'm fine." Shuri assured as she hugged her back.

"I'm just glad that you're back safe." (Y/n) pulled away enough to examine the princess, then glared at Namor who chuckled at your actions.

"Great aunt I'm fine… it… it was beautiful!" Shuri exclaimed excitedly.

Shuri started chattering away to (Y/n) about the city that she saw, the Talokan, its people, and the "sun" that he had built for them, Namor was right beside them listening in, probably to make sure she doesn't tell too much.

"She is the first from the surface to come to Talokan." He confined before pulling out a bracelet to give it to Shuri. "Please take this as a token of our gratitude."

Before Shuri could accept his gift (Y/n) stopped him, being suspicious.

"What is it?" Shuri was about to lecture her about being too paranoid, but Namor's answer confirmed her suspicions.

"It was made with the plant that saved Talokan." He informed as he continued to give the bracelet to Shuri and tight on her wrist, he was staring at (Y/n) as if silently challenging her to stop him again before turning back to Shuri.

"You are young, Princess." He Stated. "When you age as I do, you realize we all lose everyone we love."

"But when I lost my brother, it just felt different." Shuri said with grief in her voice. "He suffered in silence. When he finally asked me to help him I couldn't"

(Y/n) hugged her in an attempt to comfort her and the princess leaned into it as she fought tears.

"How does it make sense that the ancestors would give me gifts and skills to help me save my brother, and I couldn't?... Why?"

"I don't have an answer for that question." Replied Namor.

"But I do…" (Y/n) chimed in earning both their attention. "My dear, I won't go into a long rant about what the ancestors were planning for you. I have lived long enough and have come across many religions, but most of them if not all believed in similar things and that life challenges us to become better. It can be a very painful journey, but what I know for sure is that you can never come out as the defeated if you knew how to harvest those talents and skills along with those emotions you can be better, not only for yourself but for everyone around you."

Shuri sat there as if she was not convinced by what (Y/n) just said, even pulling herself away from her hold, which saddened her. Seeing the woman's frown Namor felt the need to comfort her, but he didn't know how until he finally said.

"My ancestors would often say, "Only the most broken people can be great leaders"." Those words earned him the two women's attention again.

"I admire what you have built here." Started Shuri. "And you've protected your people.  But as a princess of Wakanda, I will not stand for you killing that young woman."

They tried reasoning with the king but their efforts were in vain as every time they tried to reason with him, promising him that they will do everything to protect not only his people but also the secrecy of their existence, he refused. Their conversation was cut short when one of his people came and told him that the queen was there to speak with him.

"You said you wanted to burn the world." He said to Shuri. "Let's burn it together."

And before he left completely he gave a glance to (Y/n), which she returned. When they went back to Riri to tell her of the possible upcoming war, Shuri and (Y/n) tried to discuss their next move, not noticing when Nakia came shooting one of the women warriors, then the poor terrified girl who was tending to them.

"We need to go." Nakia urged but both Shuri and (Y/n) refused to.

"Give me the beads I can save her." the princess ordered.

"Shuri, I don't know who this lady is, but we need to listen to her." Riri pleaded, fear clear on her face.

"Listen, I hit her with a sonic round, it is lethal from this distance. There is no chance." Nakia informed.

"You don't understand this will mean war." Shuri argued back.

(Y/n), sick of their banter, pulled Shuri's hands away from the injured girl before pulling her own beads and started aiding her herself.

"Shuri, go." (Y/n) ordered.

"Great aunt-"

"I said GO!"

With that said Nakia pulled Shuri away knowing that there is no time to also convince (Y/n) to come with them, the princess was a priority and both of them knew that. The immortal woman refused to pull away from the injured girl until she was sure that the bleeding stopped, she was so focused that she did not notice when Namor came behind her, and upon seeing the blood he pulled (Y/n) away harshly to kneel beside the girl and hold her head in his hands.

"What happened my child?" He spoke in his language, which (Y/n) did not understand, she was about to say something but stopped when another warrior came and slammed her to the ground pinning her.

"The Wakandans….they came for her." she struggled to speak, before pointing to (Y/n). "She stayed…"

Namor looked to the pinned surface dweller who did not struggle against his warrior's hold, as if to show her submission.

"K'uk'ulkan…." The girl called, grasping his attention again. "Can you save me?"

At her question, Namor looked down at her wound and found it mostly closed and the bleeding has stopped thankfully.

"You are going to be safe my child." He said before turning to one of the warriors and giving him an order, the warrior knelt to pick up the girl and hurried out of the cave.

He stood up and walked to (Y/n), who could only see his feet, but she assumed that he was staring down at her, and he was. Another woman came dressed in red to speak with him.

"They came… while you spoke to the queen?" She questions. "We should not have trusted her, the queen has seen our home, what is stopping them from coming for Talokan?"

"I will…" He replied. "With her here."

Namor order the warriors to bring her to his hut, and even though they did it harshly by pulling her up and dragging her around like a rag doll (Y/n) still did not fight back and kept calm. She was forced to stand in front of him as they were left alone and Namor knew it was a struggle for the woman for he can see how her figure was shaking slightly, yet her face held a stern look.

"You attempted to kill my people." He started.

"You kidnapped their princess, what did you expect them to do? To set back and wait?" (Y/n) shot back, which earned her a scowl from the king.

"If that child have died it would be your head on a spike right now."

"But she didn't."

Namor was in front of her in an instant and grabbed her by the neck and squeezed, not giving her any chance to breathe, and just watched as (Y/n) struggled.

"I could snap your neck like a twig right now and they won't care. The Wakandans have proven to be just as worst as the rest of the surface dwellers after I have shown my home and people to her and you dare to still defend them in front of me."

"B..Because…" (Y/n) struggled to take breaths as she spoke. "You…are a rash … brat!"

With those words Namor let her go, causing her to fall to the ground as she took quick breaths.

"A brat?" He repeated. "I may look young but I assure you I am older than your great great grandfather."

"And I can be your great great GREAT grandmother." She retorted mockingly. "You are not special just because you lived long, because you are not acting it."

"How dare you insult me!" He seethed.

"No." (Y/n) stopped him from talking more as she stood on her feet. "You are the one who came out of nowhere demanded an innocent life delivered to you, and even when you had her you still wanted more. you didn't want peace from the start you just want the war to quench your own rage against humanity."

"They are the ones who threatened my people's existence by exposing their resources, causing them to hunger for it."

"Maybe they shouldn't have done that, but to be fair Wakanda did not know of your people's existence when they revealed themselves they were ready to fight the world by themselves, they didn't know of Talokan, or else it would have been a different story." (Y/n) continued. "Listen, what happened has happened and we cannot change it, but what we can change is what will happen next. Both the Wakandans and I have ways to assure Talokan's safety, we can-"

"I don't need your help!" He bawled. "I gave Wakanda their chance to yield and they threw it away."

"See! There you go again and you say why I call you a child."

Namor reached out to her and (Y/n) closed her eyes and held her hands up ready for pain but it didn't come, and when she opened her eyes slowly she could see that he had stepped back and given her his back as he faced the murals of his people.

"The only reasons you are still alive are two." He said as he turned back to face her, his face suspiciously calm. "The first is because you stayed to save one of my people, which I would be lying if I said I wasn't grateful for."

He started taking a few steps toward her making her take a few steps back until her back touched the door, he stopped in front of her and leaned forward, his face inches from her own. (Y/n) wasn't the same teenage girl who would get flustered over the smallest things, like a charming smile, or a wink but she doesn't understand why was her heart beating fast she was face to face with a man in an isolated cave that she can never escape from, who can kill her at any desired moment. She would have marked it as fear if she didn't feel her face heating up.

"You are welcome." She replied, trying to make light of her emotions. "And what is the second reason?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He asked rhetorically, before looking to the door behind her. "Llévala!"

Suddenly, the door opened almost making her fall but was caught by the same warriors who brought her here, instead of being as compliant as she was previously, she was struggling and demanding to be let go.

"The second reason is for you to stay here as my captive, that if the princess decided to do anything stupid it would be you who will pay for it."

He promised and motioned for his hand for them to take her away, but before she was out of earshot (Y/n) said one last thing.

"Don't do anything rash you brat! It's not only the Wakandans who will suffer!"

Namor believed that those words were a threat, which fueled his determination to go and give Wakanda a taste of who they are going against.

---

(Y/n) was pacing back and forth in her cell, anxiety eating her alive as she was biting her lip until it bleed and nail until it was gone. Looking outside her cell she saw the guards who didn't move an inch since they threw her there, she tried talking to them but they either didn't understand her or just ignored her. Searching for an escape was useless, she did try to use the beads to communicate with Shuri and warn her about Namor but a cave under the sea is hardly the perfect place to find a signal to the surface let alone to Wakanda. (Y/n) made a note to herself to tell Shuri about a possible new upgrade.

She was pulled out of her train of thought when she heard the sound of splashing. She wasted no time and pressed herself against the bars and started to call.

"NAMOR!" She shouted. "Namor! Is that you!?"

Saying nothing the king came from the corner, and looked at her and when her eyes met his own she could feel a chill of fear go down her spine. (Y/n) lived long enough to know what that look meant, but she hoped to any god that is hearing her that what she was thinking was not the truth.

"What did you do?" The question slipped out unconsciously. Namor averted his eyes with an angry huff at being confronted, but in his eyes, she could see a hint of shame, and that filled her with rage. "If you hurt Shuri in any way I promise I will kill you myself!"

(Y/n) saw many people die in her long life, most of them were really dear to her, but no matter how many times she goes through the heartache doesn't become easier, especially if she was there since their birth. The only reason she was able to go through T'Chaka and T'Challa's death was that she had someone to support her and people to look after to distract herself. But here she was alone, in a cave under the sea, facing the man who probably hurt Shuri and not being able to do anything.

"No harm came to the queen." He replied simply, and that fueled her rage.

"I was talking about the princess! Not the queen!"

"She is queen now."

Namor said nothing more as he started walking away leaving (Y/n) to realize what he had meant. Before he could close the door to his chamber he can hear a distant scream of distress and a series of curses of his name. He just groaned as he isolated himself in his room trying to block her voice as he thought about his next step before the week is up. However, he couldn't do any of that for the entire time he was fighting the urge to walk to that cell and stop her from crying, not by yelling at her but by trying to reason with her, to try and justify his actions, how it was the only way. Or maybe it was just to let her let out her anger against him, give her the satisfaction to curse at him, and probably even hit him, which he know will not do any real harm to him.

It drove him crazy, but what drove him even crazier is WHY was he feeling these urges towards a surface dweller. Was it because he understood her pain? To live for so long and see everyone around you die and not be able to do anything to stop it? to not being able to say goodbye to someone you knew since their birth?

He couldn't dwell on those questions more as he realized that it became quiet again, taking the chance that her screams will not distract him Namor went immediately to planning. Determined to bring Wakanda to submit to him.

---

"There is another machine in our waters"

Namor said from outside of the cell as he stared at the back of his immortal prisoner who decided to set in the corner with her back to the exit, completely ignoring the king, which annoyed him. but he couldn't find it in himself to voice this annoyance.

"We will go and destroy it." He informed. "But there will still be a guard over you and a maid to make sure you are fed and looked after."

When he said those words his eyes landed on the bowl of fruit that was untouched and it bothered him greatly. He knew she was immortal and cannot die so easily like himself, but he knew that they were still affected by physical pains, including hunger, and (Y/n) didn't have anything for almost a week now. The only thing he was sure of to keep her functioning was the few sips of water she would take now and then. He did try to trick her once into drinking juice but when he did that she still refused to take it. Whether it was out of grief or she was just being rebellious either way, it saddened him and angered him at the same time.

He didn't even know why was he trying to talk to her now. He tried talking to her since the day he told her of what happened, but she kept ignoring him, making him feel stupid as he had a one-sided conversation, trying to justify what he did and lecturing her on how what she was doing to herself was stupid but she didn't care.

Feeling that he had wasted enough time Namor huffed in anger before turning around to leave, then he finally heard her.

"You are going to regret it."

"What?" He questioned as he turned back to her, but she went back to being quiet. "What did you just say?"

"….You are going to regret it."

(Y/n) finally looked at him from over her shoulder. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying, her hair disheveled and her skin pale from lack of nutrition. He didn't say another as she turned again and gave him her back.

Namor would have probably lashed out at her, confronting her on the threat she threw at him, but she said nothing as he turned back and walked away. it was probably because her voice did not sound threatening or taunting, but rather a statement.

---

(Y/n) eyes tiredly opened as someone was shaking her awake and calling her name in a panic. When the fog cleared up she saw that standing above and holding her in their arm is none other than Shuri, whose eyes were full of tears yet still had a relieved smile on her face. She said something that she couldn't grasp before the young princess pulled her into a hug, and mustering any strength she had left (Y/n) hugged her back as a few tears escaped her eyes.

Looking up she noticed that Namor was standing there the entire time, observing the reunion in silence, but that wasn't what drew her attention, but rather a scratch mark on his face, and one of his ankles was wrapped in bandages, he was wearing a poncho that covered his upped body but she swears she could see more, and deeper scratches littering his body. Their eyes met and looking at him (Y/n) almost didn't recognize him, she didn't know how long she was out for, but she could swear that Namor looked more mature.

"What did you do to her?!" Shuri shouted at the King, snapping him out of whatever trance he was lost in, and turned to her.

"I did not lay a finger on her or mistreated her." He clarified. "She is the one who refused to eat or drink after… the news."

He said the last part quietly as he looked away in shame. When he said that more tears showed on (Y/n) at the memory and pulled Shuri back into a hug, squeezing her as hard as she can, which wasn't a lot but it was enough for the princess who hugged her back crying silently.

"I'm so sorry my dear." (Y/n) said her voice horse from not talking or consuming anything. "I…I wish I was there… I should have…"

"You have nothing to apologize for." Shuri assured as she cut her off. "Let's just go back home."

(Y/n) let out a sound of surprise as Shuri hooked her left arm under her legs and the right one on her back before lifting her up, which shocked the weak woman.

"Are you wearing some type of a new upgrade?.. Because I'm sure that I haven't lost THAT much weight for you to just lift me like I weigh nothing."

Her question made Shuri laugh as she carried her outside the cave, passing by Namor who stayed out of their way and just followed them silently. When they reached the edge of the pool Shuri was moving around (Y/n) to give her the latest update that would help her swim easily even in her weak state. During that, she would steal glances at Namor and each time his eyes never left her. She wanted to say something but couldn't or didn't know what to say, and from his few glances at Shuri, she can tell that he was also hesitant to speak. The sound of reeving power pulled her out of her thoughts as she saw the machine wrapped around her glitter with pulsed energy indicating that it was ready.

"We can go now, just make sure you stay close to me."

She instructed before reaching around her neck to activate the mask but (Y/n) stopped her, which earned her a confused look, but her great-aunt simply turned to the king who was still standing there. Namor's face showed no emotion but he was preparing himself for her to lecture him, insult him, curse him, let out her pent-up anger, and maybe even express her disappointment since she did warn him that his rash actions would cause him to lose in more ways than one. but he didn't count on her to give him a kind smile as if they were close friends.

"I will see you again."

Not a question, but a promise. If the feeling of surprise was obvious on his face then none of the women mentioned it as they dived into the water and left. When he broke out of his surprised state he just scuffed and went back to his chamber where he will paint a mural of the battle that took place against the black panther for his people's history. But in a different part of the room, one where it was mostly for himself he painted the immortal woman, when she interacted with him, when she saved the maid, and when she was his prisoner.

"I will see you again."

The promise echoed in his head, which made him unconsciously smile while he painted her smile, secretly excited and hoping for the next meeting to come soon.

---

(Y/n) sat on her private beach under the umbrella with a book in hand, trying to relax but her eyes kept scanning over the same paragraph without absorbing any of the words as she kept recalling what happened on her last visit to Wakanda which was last week.

"I'm sorry, what??" (Y/n) exclaimed as she stared at the screen that the A.I presented for both her and Shuri, who also was in disbelief.

"Your body aged 2 years." Griot repeated as he held up 2 pictures of (Y/n) on the glass screen and started noting the slight differences. "There are discreet changes, for example, Your muscles and bones have grown stronger, your weight changed, which brings up your metabolism lowering very slightly, but it is still noticeable like the start of wrinkles showing around the eyes and acne surfacing-"

"That's enough, Griot." Shuri cuts him off as she stares at (Y/n) who was in shock.

She always knew that she was still a mortal despite her long life but for it to finally start to come close to an end without her being aware of it was overwhelming. Shuri did not leave (Y/n)'s side since they found out, she did her best to comfort her great aunt, even starting teasing her and listing to all the possible people that she had met that could be her soulmate, but (Y/n) shot every possibility down for she already had someone in mind and instead of explaining it to the now queen of Wakanda she excused herself to have alone time.

Shuri thought that when she said she wanted to be alone was to be left in her room until (Y/n) was ready to talk, she didn't expect to talk to her great aunt via call scolding her on when and how she left Wakanda without saying anything. But they worked it out. And here she was now, convincing herself that she just needed time to think about what to do next and how to approach the situation when she was in fact too afraid to actually face it.

"So this is where you have been hiding?"

A familiar voice asked making her jump away and take a fighting stance, an instinct she has from years of fighting and being ambushed, but she stopped when she saw that standing in front of her was none other than Namor, but he looked different.

"Did you grow a beard?" Was the first thing that came out of her mouth, which made him chuckle.

"Yes, it is nice to meet you again too." He replied sarcastically.

Namor still looked young except for the small amount of facial hair that looked well taken care of, and he felt her staring because he subconsciously reached his hand to his face and started scratching his beard as he averted his eyes.

"I always wanted to grow one but never got the chance with my body stuck at a certain age." He started explaining. "You could imagine my surprise when a few months after my battle with Wakanda that hair started to grow on my face."

His eyes then met hears again, none of them saying anything but the silence was loud enough for (Y/n) to understand what he was trying to say. Saying nothing the woman sat back down at her spot but this time made space beside her and patted it encouraging the king to set beside her, which he hesitantly did. They stayed quiet for a long time before he finally spoke.

"You have your own part of the sea?" it was more of a statement than a question.

"It's called a private beach." (Y/n) explained. "You can imagine how crowded and dirty public beaches are, and since I have a lot of money I bought my own, not even fishing boats are allowed around here."

"This part of the water did look cleaner as I came closer and the creatures beneath are thriving from the lack of fishermen and filth."

"I do my best to have my own little piece of heaven in this world." She shrugged, trying to hide some of the happiness she felt from his comment.

It was silence again between them, only the sound of the crashing waves can be heard, which eased any anxiety the two might have felt.

"How are your people?  Since … well, you know…" She asked awkwardly just wanting to break the silence.

"They are well." He answered. "The black panther kept her promise on protecting my people's safety, although some of them are still unsure of the treaty."

"You say it as if you were ok with it." He tried to say something but she stopped him. "Don't even try to say you aren't, I know it was hard for you to submit."

She could practically see him tense for a moment as he clenched his jaws, probably angry but forced himself to calm down as he took a few breaths and closed his eyes.

"I will do anything for my people's safety… even if it means yielding to a worthy opponent."

"what wise words, I see you have grown more than just a beard and a mustache I see." (Y/n) teased him with a smile.

"A person grows in many ways throughout life…" He said before averting his eyes to the sea. "… Especially after meeting their soulmate."

(Y/n) eyes widened slightly as she too averted her eyes to the sea thinking about what to say next. She knew she can't escape the topic, but it didn't make it any easier to face it.

"When did you find out?"

"I wasn't sure at first." He started to explain. "When I noticed the changes in my body years ago I suspected that it could be either you or the panther."

"Then why didn't you say anything?" She asked annoyance clear in her voice. "It must have been nice having all that time to accept what is happening, but I only found out about my aging a couple of days ago."

"After the battle and everything that I have done, I wasn't sure if either of you wanted to see me again, let alone accept me as a soulmate." He explained as he turned fully to face her. "You must understand my hesitation to come up to the person I imprisoned or killed their mother and ask them to be with me."

 Of course (Y/n) understood, but it is still frustrated her that he knew and she didn't, that he had the time to get in terms with this new reality, then come to her and confront her…

"Wait… how did you know it was me?" She questioned. "You keep saying that you suspected that it was either me or Shuri."

"She called me." He answered. "She used the shell I gave her to call me and she told me it was about you and how to reach you."

"So much for a private beach." (Y/n) muttered to herself.

"Are you…. Are you disappointed?" He stuttered out the question causing (Y/n) to almost snap her neck with how fast she turned to him in shock.

"What?"

There was a look of concern and uncertainty, dare she say even fear in his face as he tried repeating the question.

"Are you disappointed?" He asked again this time more firmly.

"About what?" She asked not because she was confused but rather because she was unsure if he was indeed asking her that.

"About me being your soulmate." He continued. "I know it must be how you feel given the brief past we had. But that was in different situations, we can start anew as you humans put it, to know each other more before deciding hastily to not see each other again and then-"

"Wait! Wait wait wait WAIT!"

(Y/n) interrupted him quickly catching the king by surprise at her sudden outburst, her hands were up wanting him to halt any more words but her face was facing down, so he was not able to see her expression. He started panicking a little when her shoulders were shaking slightly, thinking the reality of their bond upset her, but his confusion grew when she started giggling before letting out a bark of laughter. Her sudden change of behavior was alarming to the king, dare he say he was offended.

"Can I ask why are you laughing at my confession?" He asked calmly yet the silent anger behind it was very clear.

It didn't intimidate (Y/n), but she forced herself to calm down for her soulmate seems to have a very short temper, which she noted to herself to work on with him. She stopped her laughter but her smile was still showing.

"Sorry, I'm not laughing at you, but at what you said." When gave a confused look she started explaining. "You came here confessing to me how you thought your soulmate could be either the warrior queen of Wakanda who also happens to be the new Black Panther or some woman with no title nor magic power of some kind and you ask me if I was disappointed with having the king of an underwater city, who is worshiped as a god, for a soulmate."

He seems to understand her view on the matter, but he still shook his head as if disappointed. He reached forward slowly for her hand as if expecting her to pull away but when she didn't he was confident enough to grasp her hand. His rough fingers were tracing the lines in the palm of her hand.

"You are… a woman, a human woman who  doesn't have the power of the panther nor that of a god." He stated making her narrow her eyes at him.

"Buuut?" (Y/n) asked calmly yet that was this small hint of irritation, which made him chuckle. Seeing his smile made her show a smile of her own.

"But...You still walked this earth as one."

"As one you mean?" she trailed off confused.

"As a creature who pushes beyond the limitation they were given." He continued before looking up at her, his eyes holding softness towards her. "The panther told me of your past, or at least what she knows of it."

If he felt her hand tense in his hold he said nothing and just continued to rub the palm of her hand with his thump, it helped soothe her nerves but she still felt uneasy about what he had to say next.

"I don't know what you exactly did, but I know enough to tell from our short time together… that you didn't set back and watched as the world passed by around you. Learning everything the world has to give and returning it by helping those around you. You had a great part in building this world, even when they don't deserve it."

(Y/n) didn't know whether to roll her eyes or laugh at his last statement. They have to work on that attitude of his if they are going to act on what is happening between them.

"I understand how you feel." She finally said, getting the king's full attention. "But I decide who deserves me or my labors, whether they would misuse it or not I will be the judge of that and will take responsibility for it."

Namor said nothing and just nodded and looked away toward the crashing waves whether he respected her ideas or not he didn't show it. for a while, neither of them said anything, both of them collecting their thoughts on what to say next, and the sea king seems to beat her to it.

"What do you want to do?" He asked giving her a side glance of curiosity before looking back to the sea. His question was simple yet the real meaning behind it was real. Do you want to have anything to do with me?

"First, I want to know you more." She answered in all honesty. "I don't want to rush anything between us only to be hurt later on."

"We are soulmates." He said in an almost hurried manner probably from the fear of rejection, she gave him a reassuring smile.

"I know, I just wish to understand why did fate bind 2 different souls from 2 different worlds together."

(Y/n) explained genuinely while extending her hand to his face she stopped inches away from his face, silently asking for permission, which he gave by resting his cheek in the palm of her hand and closing his eyes as if relishing in the feeling of her hand caressing his face. She brought her other hand up to hold the other side of his face and stroked his checks while her other fingers were gently scratching his beard. She can tell Namor was enjoying her attention towards him but she had to break the moment by pulling away and causing a frown and confused look to show on his face.

"Second…" She said, reminding him of the unfinished conversation. "I need to contact some… special people I know."

"Do you mean the panther?" He asked, thinking she needed to tell her of their decision.

"Well, I will have to speak to her too, but no. I need to talk to some people who might help with our…. situation."

"Situation?" He repeated confused. (Y/n) bit her lip finding it hard to explain.

"You age very slowly… I don't." She said gently,  his eyes widened slightly as if he had just realized it himself, she didn't like the sadness that started showing on his face so she explained. "I will just ask them if they have a way to extend my life."

He just nodded and gave a small smile, but the sadness was still clear in his eyes. (Y/n) knows the pain of watching the people you love grow old and disappear with time and not being able to do anything about it, but from what Shuri told her, Namor experienced this since his eyes opened to the world around him. Like her, he probably also hoped that his soulmate would show up soon to escape the loneliness. But she turned out to be a mortal, and with the time-freezing spell being lifted after their meeting, she will age in human speed while he will return to watching silently as the world kept moving fast around him, seeing people come and go into their world… including herself…

"Hey…" (Y/n) called catching the king's attention, he was met with her attempt at a comforting smile, which eased some of the grief he was feeling. "Those people live far away from any body of water but maybe I can contact one of them to come here, or maybe you can join me? You Can see some of the world and maybe even meet new people? I can understand if you don't want to, but if you did then I promise you there will be a lot of traveling to strange places. Fair warning seas king your soulmate here loves to travel a lot."

She teased him at that last part still smiling. (Y/n) she was asking him too much, not that she expected him to come with her considering not only his responsibility to his people but also his hatred for humanity, but she still wanted him to know that he is always welcome to be with her whenever he wishes to. Namor looked her in the eyes, his piercing dark eyes that 2 years ago looked at her with such loathing, now held nothing but softness towards her.

"Anywhere with you is everywhere I want to be."

Those words were spoken with such sincerity before he leaned forward and placed a kiss on top of her forehead, leaving her shocked as she stared at him with wide eyes, but the shock melted off her face and was replaced with a playful grin as she hit his shoulder.

"Don't get all sentimental on me, I thought you were a relentless sea king, not a softy lover."

"I am your lover now?" Namor asked as he scooted closer to her.

"You focused on that and not the relentless part?" (Y/n) questioned back with a raised brow.

"If it means I'm yours in the end, then yes." He had such a happy grin on his face that made her blush with how handsome he looked.

"You are so arrogant." She stated with a small chuckle as she tried to hide her face.

"But I'm yours." He replied confidently as he tried to make her look at him again.

"You're hot-tempered."

"I prefer fiery."

"God, you're obnoxious."

"Still yours."

(Y/n) was trying to push him away with every word she threw at him while fighting back laughter, but Namor kept leaning forward to her, enjoying this little game between them and wanting to enjoy her expression longer.

"Don't tell me you're going to be this clingy all the time?"

"More like affectionate and protective."

"Yeah, I have seen you being "protective" before, I know what that really means."

"Good, that means I don't have to hide it."

"what? Wait-"

(Y/n) let out a small screech as the Talokan king throw himself over her, just to lock his arms around her so she cannot escape his hold. She struggled and even hit his arms playfully, ordering him to let her go, but he wouldn't budge and just buried his face in the top of her head and closed his eyes, having a look of pure satisfaction. Seeing that, caused (Y/n) to show a smile of her own and decided to just give up the playful struggle, closed her eyes, and just relished the feeling of finally being complete.

---

I hope you guys enjoyed my first Namor fic!

[riaarivic]

HATE 7: BUTTER (M) I MYG x F!reader

🌙 Pairings YoongixReader

🌙 Genres Mafia!AU, Smut, Angst, Action, Thriller, Enemies to lovers

🌙 Rating 18+ minors DNI

🌙 Summary  You were an INTERPOL Agent assigned to infiltrate the depths of the most powerful Gang in South Korea: The Seven Moons. Your objective: to impersonate the daughter of one of their leaders and destroy the operation from within. That is, if they don't discover you first.

And Traitors won’t have the mercy of a quick death

🌙 Warnings For this chapter: mentions of death, drugs and vioence, foul language, mentions of organized crime.

🌙 A/N At no time do I (the author) encourage this activity in life, it is important that you know that the criminal acts in this book are that, a crime, as well as harmful to health and should not be romanticized. This is all a work of fiction for entertainment. Keep studying, stay away from drugs and if you are sensitive to this topic you better continue in the next chapter.

Love, Ria

🌙 Chapter wordcount 3.7k

🌙 Series Index

1  2 3 4  5 6 7 8 9 10 11

HATE 7: BUTTER (M) I MYG x F!reader

"Smooth like butter, like a criminal undercover Gon' pop like trouble breaking into your heart like that, ooh."

Shipping Port, Incheon Bay, South Korea.

The cold wind whipped through the shipping dock, sending chills down the spines of those unfortunate enough to be present. Under the dim, flickering lights, Suga stood in the middle of the warehouse with a menacing aura.

It was so quiet you could probably hear a pin drop on the other side of the dock.

Everyone knew it was the calm right before the thunder.

You see, Kim Namjoon was raised to be Kim Dohan’s right hand. He took charge of all the business matters of the clans. Meeting with corrupt government officials, blackmailing the police chief and practically having most of Seoul’s most important CEO’s practically eating from his palm.

But Suga was not only the clan's trafficker.

He was his father’s shadow. 

And shadows ruled the underworld. 

Every thug, gangster, trafficker, hitman.

They all knew him. 

They all feared him. 

That is why today he was on a mission to find out who had betrayed The Clan.

As simple as that, the Leader wanted a name.

And revenge.

His father told the rest of his brothers that Suga he would be traveling with him to Russia to retrieve the gun shipment they recently lost. As if the situation wasn't absurd enough, there were whispers of the rival Chinese clan, the long-extinct "Jade Dragon.” was the one behind it.

Yes, in quotes. 

Suga didn’t buy any of that bullshit.

That, and the fact that his father wanted to keep today’s mission a secret from his own brothers. 

Well.

That told him his father was suspicious of something too.

The night from two days ago was far from ordinary. No one who valued their souls would ever try to cross the Seven Moons or the Devil himself: Kim Dohan. Nevertheless. A shipment that was supposed to contain an arsenal of illegal firearms had instead arrived filled with dirt. 

And don’t forget the dragon head.

Made of gold and real jade. 

A little too dramatic for Suga’s taste, if you asked him.

Everything around it was fucking suspicious. 

All of Asia knew, Kim Dohan had personally made sure to wipe out the Jade Dragon twenty years ago, and Suga knew well enough that dead snakes couldn't bite.

That is why he was going to spend the night interrogating a shivering, terrified security worker who claimed to have seen something the night before the shipment arrived. The man's eyes darted around nervously, as if expecting to find a savior in the shadows. But the only thing the night held was darkness and the malevolent laughter of fate.

"I-I swear, I saw it, Mr. Kim!" the security worker stammered, his voice barely audible. "Your brother, he was there! Talking to three other men… They looked Korean, not Chinese!"

Suga raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned in closer to the trembling man. "My brother, you say. Isn't that interesting? I wonder which one of my six brothers could have been here" he said, his voice dripping with dark sarcasm. "Tell me more about these 'Korean' men."

The security worker gulped, trying to recall the details as sweat pooled on his forehead. "W-well, they were all dressed in black, and they… they had this sinister air about them, like they were up to no good."

Suga laughed, the sound rich and full of mockery. "Oh, men in black with a sinister air? How very illuminating! Like they were up to no good. Did you hear gentlemen? Like anybody here is actually up to anything good" The rest of Suga’s men laughed with him. He leaned back and crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing the light of a fire illuminating his scar. Making him look like a sadistic prince from hell. He walked closer as he studied the man before him. "You wouldn't happen to be leading me on a wild goose chase, would you?"

"N-no, sir!" the security worker squeaked, desperation etched on his face. "I swear, that's what I saw! And your brother, Mr. Kim there is no way I would not recognize him "

Suga sighed, rolling his eyes as if he were dealing with a particularly annoying child. "Fine, I believe you," he said, his voice dripping with insincerity. "But if I find out that you're lying to me or leading me astray, just remember that I have a penchant for making people... disappear. So from now on, everything out of the ordinary that you see. You’ll report back to me. Do you understand?"

The security worker nodded frantically, sweat now pouring down his face. "Y-yes, sir! I understand!"

As Suga turned away, he couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. One of his brothers, conspiring with mysterious Korean men, and shipments full of dirt instead of guns. 

Life was nothing if not a dark comedy.

And he was simply waiting for the punchline.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Serendipity Club, Itaewon, Seoul South Korea

Park Jimin’s Club was Opulent.

Tonight serendipity is packed with more people than usual, it's not every day you see all so many of the young leaders in the same place and that was an event for the nightlife in Seoul.

To be able to meet one of them in a situation like this was a strike of good luck. But six in one place, it was almost a divine sight to meet those beautiful men  all dressed in sharp designer suits, their hair perfectly styled. They are laughing and joking, clearly enjoying themselves.  The VIP lounge of the club was filled with clansmen and bodyguards.

You were watching them from the other side of the glass door. In that moment you can feel the weight of the situation on your shoulders. You are here to gather information on the  Seven Moons clan's activities in Seoul, and you know that any misstep could be deadly.

What happened last night with suga was Only that. A means to an end. Nothing more than you doing your job and collecting information. 

You noticed that the six leaders were surrounded by more alcohol than a horde of twenty-something frat kids could consume and enough dope, courtesy of one of Suga’s shipments, to put them all in rehab.

Today the seven Moons were going to have fun.

They were going to celebrate the arrival of their heiress.

And what a way to welcome her to the clan.

In that private room there was enough money to pay for an entire college degree.

At Harvard.

About 30 times.

Or fund a small country.

Anything was possible for the Seven Moons.

From the giant window that adorned the room they could see what was going on below them on the dance floors. They were surrounded by more opulence than the mansion at Versailles, with huge crystal chandeliers and sculptures that cost a fortune. Leather sofas and mahogany tables. The walls are adorned with paintings and sculptures, all of which look like they were purchased at a high price.

Or stolen. 

But everything was classy at Park Jimin's club.

Even the small trays where they served a fine white powder were made of gold, with the symbol of the clan.

Class and style.

People used to say that this was Mount Olympus and up there resided the Gods. But no commoner could see what went on inside their VIP room.mSomething that was quite convenient if you stopped to think about the kind of entertainment that went on from time to time behind those security gates.

Of course, also the occasional murder or torture. With prior permission from the owner and of course you had to swear Park Jimin you will not stain the new upholstery.

Normal stuff.

“Hey Hyung, let's serve another round of shots for everyone” exclaimed Jungkook over the sound of the music raising the bottle of Vodka towards Jhope, who smiled openly feeling the bubbly effect of one of his favorite pills.

“Shots for everyone!” shouted the older one, pouring some of the contents of the glasses he had just poured. The others toasted with them, it had been a long time since they had had fun together and the night was just beginning “So Park, what time will the show start?” Jin asked with one of the club owner's angels sitting right next to him.

“Hyung, please don't torture us with your dance steps today” Jimin joked and the eldest of the seven moons replied with a light punch on the shoulder.

“Easy boss, Jin-ssi's dance steps are my favorite” your attention is drawn to the woman sitting next to the oldest of the seven on the table. She is stunning, with long black hair and piercing eyes. She looks regal, like a queen holding court. You realized she was one of Park Jimin’s angels and couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for her, knowing that she is being used as a pawn in this dangerous game.

Her big cat eyes and sensual body were covered by her elegant black dress. Jade was a femme-fatale who loved the adrenaline rush of working for The Seven Moons.

Don’t be mistaken. Nothing was obscene in Park Jimin's club.

He was famous for never allowing any of the attendees to get rough with his angels, not even his own siblings.

Everyone followed the rules.

Unless they wanted to be beaten out of the club.

Or turned into a bloodstain on the marble floor.

That's why people literally killed themselves to work there, it wasn't just the money they made or the protection of the clan.

Park Jimin’s angels were independent, they could come and go as they pleased, they belonged to no one. Unlike other places where the women and men who worked in that world did not have the same luck.

Jimin knew that sincere loyalty was much better than fear. The angels were happy and so were their customers. The money kept flowing and so were the secrets. A job well done you could say.

“Shit, if she's an angel kill me now and I'll die a happy man” The comment from one of the clansmen at the next table made all the moons turn to look at you as you crossed the sea of bodyguards to make way to where they were sitting.

Your skin glowed under the Serendipity lights, your hair cascaded almost reaching your waist. All your curves and long legs could be seen to perfection thanks to how short the satin dress she was wearing was.

Versace, something very appropriate for a...

“Goddess, she's no angel," Namjoon's deep voice answered her before taking another sip of Whiskey without taking his eyes off her, "And she's completely out of reach for all of you... unless you want to lose the hand you're touching her with." 

You mentally cursed Anya and Garam for convincing you to wear that piece of fabric that was called an excuse for a dress and left nothing to the imagination. You didn't even want to think about how much it had cost

Of course, an agent's salary would not allow you to pay for even one of the earrings you were wearing.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

“Today is your formal presentation in Seoul’s underworld. You can't go wearing these nun school rich girl dresses. Please” Anya had told you when they were still in the Boutique “Besides, Namjoon gave you his black credit card, let's call it retribution to justice”

“All for the sake of good and justice” You had sighed in surrender and the two women jumped up and down in celebration.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

“Welcome to my club, Miss Lee, if you want to have a good time in this boring city” Jimin greeted you with a kiss on her hand “This is your home” You noticed that the man had made different colored locks in his hair, if anyone else had tried it he would probably look ridiculous but for some reason he looked amazing.

Jungkook surprised you with a hug as he approached the table “Noona, you look very beautiful tonight” a mischievous gleam crossed the younger man's eyes “You must promise to dance with me first okay?”

“No, this is my club. Miss Nari Dances with me” Jimin opened his eyes, offended as he continued to argue with his brother.

“I'm sorry children, but I'm the eldest. It is a show of respect and tradition. I would be the first one to dance with Miss Lee.'' Jin interrupted both of them with a matter of fact tone. The three of them began to fight and laugh among themselves. At first you found the behavior of these mobsters, who were usually too serious and respectful, too strange.

But then you saw some little bags with colored pills on the table and raised an eyebrow.

Ah, ecstasy.

You noticed that Namjoon was still staring at you sitting with his arms outstretched on the couch rest “Nice dress, Lee Nari.” the penetrating gaze of the clan's second-in-command made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up “Can I invite you a drink?”

Smiling, you nodded “Pour me whatever you are drinking, Kim Namjoon” As you sat next to him you realized at that moment that they were going to ask you to try anything else on that table. 

You can't help but think about the dangerous position you were in. Accepting to use drugs with the clan is a slippery slope that you know very well you shouldn't even consider. But you need to maintain my cover, and the pressure to fit in with the clan is intense.

So you had to play along, even if you knew it could go horribly wrong  “Also, you can share with me whatever you are on right now”

“I didn't know you liked Molly, but I guess there is enough of that in the pretentious universities of America” Taehyun's turn to speak had been listening to you silently watching your every move, as usual. 

“That's true, we like to have fun at pretentious colleges in America” you replied by dropping the pill on your tongue and shrugging your shoulders. You got up and took Namjoon’s hand to walk to the center of the dancefloor. With the other brothers joining you right behind. 

As the music fills the room, you feel the heat of the Right Hand's body pressed against yours. You dance together, your bodies swaying in sync, but your mind is far from the moment.

Here 's the thing. 

You knew perfectly well the dangerous game you were playing right now. Letting yourself loose when you knew perfectly well that every man in that room was heavily armed. You learned during your training back in the headquarters that this was a show of trust inside the Clans.

You had to play your part to perfection. Because men let their guard down when they feel free.

And if they feel free they start talking.

Which reminded you. Your team in France has not responded to your last message, and you find it odd that my boss, the Lieutenant, did not warn you about the arranged marriage between Mr. Lee’s daughter and one of the seven sons.

Your heart races as you realize that you are in deeper than you thought. The consequences of being caught are simple: One misstep and you will be dead. 

As the song comes to an end, Namjoon leans in close to you, his eyes burning with intensity. "I need to go outside for fresh air. By myself." he looks surprised for a second but then he turns around and barks an order to one of the bodyguards to take you outside, and you feel a mix of fear and excitement ripple through you.

You are led by one of Namjoon’s bodyguards across a sea of moving bodies and gangsters to get to an emergency exit in the back of the VIP room. You go down the stairs and once you are at the door the man tells you you have 5 minutes.

The pounding music and flashing lights of the club faded behind you once you stepped outside. 

That’s when you saw him leaning against the wall, a cigarette between his fingers. You noticed that for the first time you’ve seen him he was wearing a suit. Hair sleek to the back. His deep black eyes stared directly at you.

That was the last thing you needed to see while high on molly.

“Yoongi”

You almost whispered, approaching him carefuly. “What-”

“You look surprised, little flower. Like if you just saw a ghost. Were you expecting someone else” He interrupted you and you felt a shiver down your spine. 

You could feel the effect of the drug spreading through your bloodstream “No, you're exactly the person I wanted to see tonight” Your words were sincerity mixed with alcohol. He took a step closer and you felt his hand tugging at the fabric of your dress that covered your hips. 

Why do you have to be so fucking beautiful?

The man let out a laugh and held her tighter by the waist “You're going to have to share with me whatever they gave you upstairs, little flower,”

Did you say that or did you think it?

Suga brought his lips to your ear. So close you could feel their ghost touch on your skin “It has to be pretty good shit. For you to admit that you think I'm fucking beautiful and I don't want to be left behind in the fun” You gasped and he gave you one of those devilish smirks you were starting to like. 

“Weren’t you supposed to be in Russia?” You said eyes locked in his “And miss all of today’s fun. No way in hell I would miss you in this dress, pretty flower. But before she could respond, he stepped closer, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. "You're a beautiful woman, Lee Nari," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

Ah, fuck it.

You were in too deep on the effects of the pills mixed with alcohol. 

Probably what you were thinking at the time was a terrible idea.

But the effects of the drug made you feel so damn good.

And Suga usually had a mysterious aura to him, something dark and alluring that attracted you to him.

 

Like a moth to a flame. 

You had burned before. 

And you really liked the pain.

You took another pill that you had hidden on your dress and placed it on your tongue. You knew that she was playing a dangerous game, but you couldn't help the attraction you felt for that man. In a moment of impulse, you leaned in with your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair.

And kissed him.

Kissed him as if you were alone in that place full of people.

As if you couldn’t be seen by absolutely everyone who was there.

The effect of the drug deliciously amplified the sensations and you could swear that the Suga’s lips tasted like chocolate strawberries, your favorite dessert. 

“You're getting me in trouble little flower." said the man As you broke apart, you could see the surprise and suspicion in his eyes.

“Good thing I love trouble," but before you could move again a hand grabbed Suga's arm, pulling him away from you.

Turns out your five minutes were up and the bodyguard had gone upstairs to tell Namjoon you were kissing his brother outside of the club. 

Didn’t snitches get stitches in this clan?

Or lose a finger or something.

The Right Hand eyes were looking directly at you. He was furious, you could see the veins of his neck pop, blood rushing through them filled with anger. 

Oh you’d fucked up. 

Big time.

Now the both of you were really in trouble “May I know, what the fuck are you doing here, you bastard?” Namjoon grabbed two fists full of Suga’s shirt.

“Having fun like everyone else at this party, or isn't that what we all came here for, Daddy's boy?” replied the older one with his sarcastic chuckle.

“Call me that one more time and I'll break your fucking face” Namjoon so close to Suga's face while he looked amused by his reaction. 

As if he had been waiting for it.

“Oh your majesty, I'd love to see you try....”

Before chaos could form the rest of the siblings approached to separate them. You were still standing in the middle of the two, unsure if you should try to calm things down. 

But you knew you’d only make it worse.

“Let's calm down a little, you know the rules: no fighting in my club - Jimin intervened trying to calm them down a little “If you are going to break each other's faces or measure each other's dick or whatever it is you are doing right now. Do it somewhere else” he finished with a tone of authority.

Kim Namjoon might be the right hand of the clan, but this was Park's kingdom. But it didn't help anyway...

“You just love to play with what doesn’t belong to you, don't you?” Namjoon responded in a mocking tone.

To that you raised an eyebrow, you were nobodies. But before you could speak Jhope put a hand on your shoulder giving you a sympathetic look “Not now, princess Nari” he whispered. 

Suga grabbed the hand that was still holding him by the collar “Are you sure of what you’re saying, Kim? Do you want me to remind you who you are and who I am?”

You had a feeling they were no longer talking about you. But all you could do was look at them terrified realizing that you had provoked something you couldn't stop.

They both meant much more.

“I'm going to kill you tonight, you son of a bitch” Namjoon growled and Suga had a smirk on his lips but the expression of his eyes wanted blood.

“Hope, take Miss Lee out of here. That's an order” Namjoon said without looking at you.

The young gangster approached you with an apologetic  look “I'm sorry princess Nari, but we'd better go” He took you by the arm to take you out of the place and ushered you to a SUV that was already parked and ready for you to leave.

“I knew you'd be trouble." Taehyung whispered as you passed him.

Your eyes stung from tears that were trying to come out.

You felt humiliated.

You had screwed up completely.

Suga was your fucking weakness and your needed to get him out of her system.

The faster this mission would be over.

Faster she could get away from all of this.

And away from him.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

HELLO!! BEAUTIFUL INTERNET PEOPLE.

I have a confesion to make: This August D concept photos are making me feel things. What a good moment to be alive honestly. Because I would gladly let gangster August D Kill m... Ahem.

Here's another confession. Butter is actually one of my fav chapters, because its all the build up to the real deal of the story. But I got inspired by the pictures of this beautiful, beautiful human and decided to add a new scene to the chapter.

For the ones who don't know Hate is actually a story I've aready finished on wattpad and I am translating (from spanish) and cross posting it here on tumblr. Also, the original story is actually an OCxSuga and not a reader POV. But I really am enjoying this changes. I hope you guys enjoy this story as much as I am enjoying writing.

There is so much more to come and I am excited to show you!

For the ones who are interested, the tag list is open If you want to be on it you can leave a comment or send me an ask! 💌💌

Tag list: @allamericanuniverse @drunkzseok

Love, Ria.

[seleswrites]

serena ira | Leon S. Kennedy/Reader | find on AO3

And on the seventh day, god brought your soulmate into a dying city, crawling with the monstrous undead. Damn your luck.

Fandom: Resident Evil 2 (remake)

Relationship: Leon/Reader

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2,568

Tags: soulmate AU, canon divergence/not canon compliant, no Y/N, Leon A and Claire B (in my head they meet up before the final train scene), canon typical violence, lots of cursing, reader can be anyone but I tend to write queer afab reader-oc's.

Event: @lunarbuck's Soulmate AU writing challenge

Soulmate Prompt: "You and your soulmate have matching tattoos that become clear once you meet." (Added a bit of flavor so hope it's a good read still!)

Photo credits: Nicolas Ladino Silva (woman in shadow) and Trevor (city landscape) on Unsplash

A/N: Nothing like a new fandom to control the braincell. Please be kind, I just got into RE like two weeks ago lmao! I only know half of RE2:make, the RE4:make, and Lady D from Village.

An entire city overturned into a place of nightmares not even within a week. 

Familiar streets turned into dangerous traps filled with, what you could only describe as, the undead. You had no idea how you were going to survive. Hell, you had no idea you've survived this week. Damned Luck pitying you perhaps, for Her sick game. 

The Raccoon City PD was no longer a safe haven like the radio repeated, a turned labyrinth of monsters, and the group of people you escaped with (stupidly taking your chances outside, running out as quickly as you had run inside) and traveled with dwindled in number as many small hordes of once living and breathing people descended upon you all, multiple times. Until more people broke off on their own. Until more people became part of the living dead numbers. Until it was just you. Just you. Alone. 

Didn't anyone learn about the buddy system? 

And, somewhere in the middle of this all on the sixth or seventh day, your outer forearm inked with your soulmate mark -- a large raven feather that broke into smaller silhouettes of the same bird, flying off your skin if it could -- burned with the damned telling sign that you were close to that First Meeting. That they, whoever they are, were close. And very much alive. 

Great. In the middle of a zombie apocalypse and your soulmate had to arrive somewhere within this large ass city. That would be the cards dealt by Lady Luck. And your luck would pin either of you as dead before arrival. 

You couldn't curse your bad luck enough. On the verge of leaving, meager and stolen supplies packed up in a motorbike you've hidden in a secure space and a route planned out of the city, you hesitated. A settling sinking feeling sat in your stomach like a heavy stone. You can't leave your soulmate here to die. With a growl, you shoved your assorted pockets and bags with as much ammo, medical supplies, food and water as possible, finality lining every movement. 

Damn it! Damn them!

Following the burning pulse radiating in strength as you, hopefully, close the distance, you leave your own safety bubble to seek your soulmate out. Out in the rainy night in this dreary city. Bundled in the remains of a warm outfit. Whatever fucking idiot was roaming around here better be worth it. 

Hours of slow going, getting soaked to the bones, avoiding the hoards as they swarmed the PD station again as a loud siren and explosions echoed in the night air, your heart sank. 

You gotta be kidding me. 

That would be the most likely place in the city, wouldn't it? 

Damn your luck. 

(On any other day, you wouldn't curse your lack of luck to incur more of Lady Luck's wrath; even now, you're still alive thanks to the whimsies of Luck and the Fates. And firearm and survival lessons of your paranoid and militaristic step-fa-- your dad. For another countless time this week, you wished he was still alive so you could thank him for his hindsight for all his 'ridiculous' teachings. Still: fucking damn your luck--) 

Stop. 

Control your breathing, even as panic laced every inhale, every exhale. Focus on keeping quiet, on this warmer-colder game of tag with someone you don't even know, on keeping alive because what's the point if you die in process? 

Focus on the undead blocking your path to get back into the metal graveyard of the museum-turned-police-station before you. 

Aim at the back of its head.

Line up the shot. 

Inhale.

Steady.

Gotta thank the old man when you die a natural death of old age and see him in the afterlife. Or something like that, you thought, firing the shot. 

The creature shrieked a horrifying hiss as the bullet hit, like someone released air out of a balloon, a squeaky sound that you still internally wince, unused to it even after this week. It twisted and turned, head lulled back, and you ready-aimed-fired a quick second bullet before you could see its face. You didn't want another ghost of their human self to add into the mix of your dreams -- whenever you did find a safe space to sleep next. 

The body dropped to the wet ground in an awful slump. 

Exhale. 

White puff of cold air left your lips as you stared at the body for a second to see it unmoved. Quickly, you checked your surroundings for any other zombies; four more shots fired, three downed dead, three more bullets in your P220's mag. Another prayer casted towards the capricious Lady Luck: please, don't summon a licker.

An empty street was all that greeted you. Nothing attracted by the sound of bullets firing, nothing but an unnerving feeling that you were being watched, shivering beyond the coldness of the rainy night. A loud scraping sound kept you low to the ground, half bent over and nearly squatting, as you casted your eyes around, looking for signs of threats. 

No threats. Street still empty. Empty, except two survivors in the distance, exiting from the Station’s parking lot. 

From where the noise came from. 

On the other side of the sinkhole and its halted repair started before this week of hell. 

You managed to get yourself to the edge of it, avoiding two zombies eating flesh along the way, them happily and thankfully ignoring you as horrifying chewing and slurping sounds loudly scraped against your own gut. Managed just quick enough as the two strangers had their back to you, one working their way to get inside the gun store, its neon sign lighting highlighting the woman's silhouette with a fade glow of red. 

"Hey!" you wanted to scream, but the word stuck in your throat. It wouldn't do anyone good to scream here and attract monsters. Selfishly, you wanted someone to turn around, to see you in the distance, to wait for you-- As if you could be heard, the other silhouette turned, ever so slightly, enough for you to read the miniscule and faded letters of R.P.C. across his chest. 

The mark hiccuped in its heat, only fluttering coolness the brief moment you both saw each other. Your breath hitched in your throat. 

Him. It's him.

The door to the gun shop opened and, even from your spot across the way, you heard the woman call out to the cop, distance obscuring what she actually said however. She entered the shop without a backward glance. He hesitated, giving you a look you were too far away to read, before following in after his partner. 

You couldn't help but rub your fingers along the cooling shape of a feather on your arm, a silent prayer on your lips to the Fates or fucking Luck or whatever listening to give whatever goodwill you had and send it to him. Let him survive. 

And then you were alone again.

Let him be safe. Please. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A curse hissed out of your mouth, unwanted as a zombie bit at your not dominant arm, the one burning with the feather soulmate mark. The wound's deep enough where blood blossomed under your sleeves, but you yelped as you wrenched your arm free. Its teeth pulled away with your skin and shirt fabric in between its maw. It growled. You shoved the barrel of your pistol against its temple, firing. 

Blood and brains splattered onto your long sleeves, already soiled with sewage and dried gore. A loud groan left your lips, frustrated at your sloppiness over the fact you were bleeding. Contagion was the least of your worries; you'd been a zombie three times over during this week. But regular infection of an untreated wound? That could kill you. 

Your thoughts stilled as a chilling scream sucked in your breath. 

You should have expected the NEST to be filled with zombies, everywhere else in the city was. It's why you shared your ammo with Claire as she explored her portion of the NEST to unlock the antiviral needed to save Sherry; if anything, she had a better sense of survival than you, especially after the way she fought that terrifying eyeball monster of a once-human. 

What you didn't expect was the fucking licker crawling around on the ceiling. 

You should have.

A high pitched whine sent a chill down your spine, before its long claws scraped across the walls. 

Tensing, you covered your mouth and held your handgun in its direction, hoping that it didn't hear you. You didn't have enough rounds in the mag, hell in general if you had to fight it. Two shots left before reloading. Your pistol’s full eight wouldn't even be enough. 

Circle around it slowly as it seemed to sniff the air (and deluded yourself that it could not smell your disgusting stench of sewer and sweat clinging to you). 

Slowly, foot by foot.  

Freeze as it hissed again.

The door opened, creaking. Both the licker and you tilted towards it. One booted foot in, someone you know by the returning of the intense burning of your forearm in the shape of a raven's feather. 

Him. 

The licker posed to jump in his direction, like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse. 

Fuck you Lady Luck and her shitty timing.  

"Careful, licker!" you shouted. 

It whipped around towards you, its loud growling wheeze echoing in the room. Fucking shit-- 

The bastard howled as it lunged forward. 

Into your space. 

Duck -- too late. It jumped on your body, throwing you to the ground as its large claws hit your shoulders. You yelped from the impact. Happlessly, you fired your two shots into its large, brain-like head. The bullets hit, but not the weak spot. 

Another shot rang out in the room. Enough for the licker to hesitate sinking its teeth in your flesh. It erupted in flames as He came closer, holding a fucking flamethrower in his hand. It screamed. Its weight disappeared and you scrambled back on your hands and arms, pain shooting through them in the movement as blood, old and new, smeared along your palms. The smell of burning flesh, nothing like the sweet scent cooking but more ashen and decay, filled your nose, alongside the metallic under layer of blood, your blood. 

The screams died as the licker did, flames simmering down into nothingness alongside its charred and blackened skin. You forced yourself to sit up, groaning in pain. Everything hurt. Your back, your shoulders, your arms especially -- but you couldn't tell if that's because of how heavy you hit the ground or that damned fucking mark that threatened to burn your own arm off. 

He cursed, repeated fucks and shit expelling under breath as he made it to your side. "Here, you're okay, you're okay, I got you."

He pulled out some medical supplies from within his packs. A bottle of hydrogen peroxide. A roll of bandages. Without thinking, he reached for your bleeding arm. 

And the burning stopped, his touch instantly dropped your arm into a freezing chill as his eyes took in the teeth marks ripped in your skin, the bloodied feather and its tiny ravens, ink gradually running clear. You shivered and he did a double-take on you, hand shaking as if he too was dropped below zero. 

A moment paused into an eternity as you caught your breath. In the darkened room with broken flickering lights overhead, dark shadows chiseled his face in sharp angles, despite his youthful look. Stands of light golden blonde hair clung to his forehead, dirtied with grime and sweat. Blue eyes swept over your features, just as you did to him. 

Even in this mess, he was handsome, pretty even. Heat licked your cheeks as your mind wandered on how pretty would he be cleaned up…

"You’re the goddamn idiot,” you muttered under breath, face heating from embarrassment. Talk about a dramatic First Meeting. 

"What?" the stranger asked, strangely breathless. "Hey. Are you okay?"

His eyes widened, blues roaming between your arm and your face again. You didn't answer him, but you said a bit louder, "It’s you."

"It's…me." Words he repeated, but laced with a question. Like he didn’t realize who he was to you. Not until the remaining half an outline of the feather, barely just visible, disappeared entirely as he laid another glance on it.

Nothing. Like you were never marked at all. 

“Oh…”

He knew now.

"Yes, you! The kind of idiot that strolls into an infested city of the undead!" you said, words streaming from your lips in a hiss, holding back your scream as he no longer knelt frozen before you and worked to disinfect your wound. Unwanted tears pricked at the edge of your eyes; you lied that it was because of the sting of the disinfectant, not frustration nor relief to see him. "You were safe up until today!" 

And you could have been okay dying with that knowledge!

He tied the bandage tight, too tight, and you winced from the pain. “Sorry,” he apologized softly, even as his lips pressed into a thin line. “But I had my duty. I couldn’t leave the city without helping.”  

You slapped his hold on you away -- he let you go easily -- and forced yourself to your feet. He followed you quickly, arms reaching out to steady you as you swayed and stumbled onto your feet, sliding on gore and fluids, legs trembling in pain and useless adrenaline. His grip on your arms were tight, hands warm and comforting. 

"Right… Duty.” The word tasted like blood in your mouth. You’ve seen enough people die for the sake of duty; you’ve seen others die for less honorable reasons. Something hot burned down your grime-streaked cheeks. “And I was leaving. I was leaving," you confessed. “I couldn’t, not with you here. Guess we’re both the idiots here.”  

A faint chuckle, akin to puffs of air more than anything, left his lips. Slowly, as if you were a spooked cat, his hands found your cheeks, thumbs running comforting wipes along the trails left by your tears. You tried not to lean into his touch, craving that comfort from him selfishly.

"Thank you." It's soft, embarrassed even as his eyes gaze just a little out of your reach, and his cheeks tinted with pink. 

"Don't thank me yet,” you scoffed, “Now we can die together." 

Another laugh. "Fair enough. It's not safe out here." 

"Duh, Mr. Obvious.” 

But he smiled like nothing happened, a cheeky little grin that warms you even further. Oh shit, he's cute. "It's Kennedy, actually. Leon Kennedy," he said, introducing himself. 

You gave yours, rolling your eyes as he repeated it reverently. 

"We're going to get out of here alive. I swear it," Leon promised with such conviction you believed him. “Okay?” 

He waited until you nodded to release your cheeks, but not before his eyes lingered on your lips. As if you didn’t share the same thoughts. Later, later. 

Instead, Leon grabbed your gun from off the floor. Relief settled your limbs as your hands found the familiar metal of your handgun. Silently, you reloaded, as he did the same, hands reaching for his shotgun. 

Not dead yet, still a chance.

Taking a deep breath, you grinned at him as fake confidence steered your lips, "Alright then, pretty boy, lead the way. I got your back." 

"Pretty boy?"

[intriq]

✧ little moon

photo above

Content warnings: blood, death, mentions of firearms [guns], angst, fatherly!Alfred, bigbrother!bruce, genderneutral reader, no mentions of y/n [i try to avoid doing this in my fics from now on], possibly my shitty attempt at poetry, little bit of time jumps

.·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ .

PLEASE note i literally know NOTHING abt the DC universe and got insanely tempted to write this because of Rosa's [fairybaby on c.ai] discord, bc vampire au bots were being discussed and then it divulged to me talking about father figure alfred teaching the user stuff and then to vamp hunter alfred getting rid of newly turned user, which lead to me writing this.

.·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ .

TLDR: non canon compliant VAMPIRES AU DC Universe Angst Fic about VampireHunter!Alfred getting rid of NewlyTurnedVamp!Reader [genderneutral friendly]

.·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ .

time it took to write: around 5 hours [started at 6:59 pm Central time, finished at 11:09 pm Central time]

.·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙　✩　̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ .

link to the song i wrote this to [i recommend listening to it while you read!]

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

The moon cannot stay in the night sky for forever, despite it’s gentle splendor.

You’d always been close to the quite famous vampire-hunting Wayne family, including Alfred, a closely trusted family ally who also just-so happened to be the butler of the family. To you, Alfred was like your father. Someone you looked up to.

And to him, you were like his child. One that he could never have in life.

The entire reason the Wayne family had become significant vampire hunters was due to the head of the family, Bruce Wayne.

It was a well-known tale of tragedy, known for every citizen of Gotham. For every civilian, every vampire, every vampire hunter.

because no matter how beautiful it may be,

Bruce, at the young age of just twelve [12] years of age, had been on an outing with his parents. They’d been walking amongst the street of rapidly darkening Gotham, streetlights flickering into life as the sun just barely peeked its gentle yellow-orange golden rays over the horizon of the city.

While there were different versions of the tale past this point, of how Bruce and his parents had even stumbled past a particularly vampire-infested portion of the city, it all leads to the same fate.

The fate of Bruce having to watch his parents be torn apart before his very eyes, helpless. Unable to do anything.

And to Bruce, fate was cruel enough to leave him alive. Just him. Forced him to sit there as his parents slowly turned cold as the blood drained from their bodies when the vampire that had attacked them scampered off when some random vampire hunter had shown up.

It all ends the same with Bruce having to literally feel the bodies of his parents grow cold in his grasp, as his hands hold theirs. Sitting with them as he cried.

But his tears, no matter how warm, could not bring warmth back to the cooled bodies of his mother and father.

That was the very tale that sparked Bruce to become a vampire hunter. All to make sure no other child would need to suffer such a cruel and cold fate.

The fate of watching their parents die before their very eyes.

Alfred had taken you in, too. For that very reason.

You’d only been the young age of six when one of Alfred’s vampire hunter buddies had come upon your family. Bodies already cooled, drained of blood that coated every inch of your home. But yet, somehow, you were safe.

You were “lucky” as some might say.

But no child is lucky in such a fate. There is no “luck” when it comes to being the only survivor of your families brutal massacre, leaving you with nightmares. Nightmares that would cause such a young child to wake up screaming and crying in the middle of the night.

With nowhere left to bring such a young child [this young child being you in particular], Alfred’s friend comes knocking upon the Wayne manor.

no matter how gentle she may seem,

It’d only been a week or two since the loss of Bruce’s parents, and when Alfred had opened the doors to find you cradled in his friends arms, sleeping with eyes shut and red, puffy from crying due to the nightmare that had woken his friend.

It’d been nearly midnight, too.

“Whose this?” Alfred had asked, reaching forward in just about an instant to take you from his friends arms. You don’t even stir from your slumber when Alfred takes you, cradling you in his arms. Your head rests on his shoulder as he holds you, and you even let out the smallest, softest little sigh.

As if you found Alfred’s comforting hold on you better than his friends.

Alfred’s friend gives off your name, and it makes Alfred’s brows furrow in recognition. He’d known your father. They’d served in the British military together, after all.

This was how Alfred came to know that one of his friends had died that same very night, and learned that his friend had even had a child.

You.

“I can’t look after a six-year-old with what I do, Alfred. You think you could..?” His friend’s voice trails off, and the question is clear. Alfred only slowly nods, giving him quick thanks before returning inside Wayne manor just as his friend turns to depart.

Bruce was still awake, too. He’d sat at the top of the stairs, just watching the brief encounter. And in that same night, Alfred introduces Bruce to you. Tells Bruce about your father, just in a few brief words.

Brief words that Bruce knew held a lot more weight behind them than Alfred could put on.

And from that night onward, Alfred raised you and Bruce.

Over the next couple of weeks after your arrival, Alfred would often be awoken in the night by your crying. Or your screaming, whichever one broke through your nightly terrors first. It would wake Bruce, too.

Bruce would always just stare up at the ceiling on these nights. Listening as he heard Alfred’s frantic, muffled footsteps come tumbling down the hall. Listening as Alfred opened the door to the bedroom you stayed in. [which was right next to Bruce’s, by the way]

Bruce could hear, from behind the wall his bed was against, as Alfred comforted you. As Alfred assured you that you were alright. Listening as your sobs and frantic gasps of air turned to sniffles after a long while, and then eventually quieted, with Alfred leaving exactly ten minutes after.

He’d even recognized the nickname Alfred had for you. “Little moon,” he’d always call you. Bruce wasn’t sure why, Alfred never explained.

One night, you’d awoken from a nightmare. But Alfred had been out on some personal business that day, and hadn’t quite yet returned. Bruce only awoke when he’d heard you open the door to his bedroom, your blanket hugged tightly under one of your little arms whilst you held some sort of stuffed animal that had been brought from your old home.

Even in the dark, Bruce knew you were crying. He could recognize those little sniffles, seeing as they kept him awake whenever you woke him by your screams of terror from your horrifying dreams due to your memories.

You’d asked him if you “could please sleep in his bed since Alfy wasn’t home yet”. And for some reason, despite how he’d ignored you at first, he couldn’t say no.

So you’d crawled into bed next to him, your little body huddled close to his. And Bruce hugged you, for some reason. Some sort of instinct, some sort of gut feeling.

It was like a natural reaction for Bruce, because he didn’t even process a thought before he’d done it.

And the moment he did so, your sniffles quieted faster, your tears stalling quicker than most other nights. And before he knew it, you were asleep again. And for once, you didn’t have a nightmare.

And from then on, Bruce saw you as a little sibling. And because of the loss of his parents not long before, he grew protective of you. Stepped into the role of your big brother without even a second thought.

After all, you’d both lost your family due to the same reason. The same way.

the sky does not have the room to hold the moon for forever, in all her silver glory

However, Alfred and Bruce did everything to keep you away from vampire hunting. And I mean everything.

Not once did they speak a word of it to you. Not once did they ever let you even notice how their presence left the Wayne manor at night to clear out the infested streets of Gotham.

So with that, you grew up mostly normal.

Sure, you got picked on and teased for how small you were in school. Sure, you’d come home battered and bruised from being shoved around a little too harshly by those kids who just easily towered over you.

You’d blame it on being clumsy. It was believable to Alfred. After all, you’d taken many tumbles in the years leading up to when the bullying started.

But Bruce never believed an ounce of it.

Sure, he’d try and ask you what really happened. But all you’d do is blink up at him, give him a forced smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes in the same bubbly and warm way it did usually. You’d always hoped he didn’t notice how forced it was.

But he always did. He just pretended not to notice it.

And when one day, Bruce happened to see the bullying firsthand. Seen it right before his eyes.

And that same day, after you’d disappeared from sight, Bruce got into his first fight. He’d come home just as beat up as you, maybe a little more-so, but he was victorious.

“You’re gonna get in trouble with Alfy if you get into fights, Bruce.” You’d whined, placing a cute little flower patterned band-aid on Bruce’s split knuckles. It wouldn’t do anything to help, but the thought certainly mattered.

And Bruce would only gently smile at you. That had been the first time, too. First time he’d ever smiled at you. He only ruffles your hair⎯ much to your disapproval and dismay⎯ and tell you that it was alright, that he didn’t mind if he got in trouble.

Because he truly didn’t. Not when it meant you got to live a more peaceful and normal life.

You were nine years old then, making Bruce fifteen.

He didn’t care if he got quizzical looks the next day for the fact he had those childish flower patterned band-aids on his split and bruised knuckles, or on any part of him that was bruised and battered. Bruce just didn’t care.

It made you feel helpful. So why would he stop you?

because the sun is a jealous twin, jealous of it’s sisters beauty, of her fragile elegance, and it yearns for that same beauty

So, yes. You were quite close with the Wayne family. You were practically an unofficial member of it.

In fact, you were close enough with them that all of Bruce’s children [adopted or biological] knew you quite well. All of them had a different nickname for you, one that they called you by. To them, you were just as much of a parental figure as Bruce was.

Maybe even more-so, since you’d take any opportunity to get them something. Even if it was a small little trinket.

But to them? That trinket was everything. It was worth more than any fine jewelry or expensive painting. To them, it was utterly priceless.

But hiding vampire hunting from you couldn’t last for forever, and you’d discovered it just after Jason’s disappearance. Why?

Because you’d gone looking for him.

Gone looking for him, and had accidentally caught Bruce in the middle of taking out a vampire. Which, unfortunately, caused you to relapse into memories of that night when you were six-years-old, due to how brutal killing vampires is.

You’d had another bout of nonstop nightmares for almost three months after that before they calmed, and Bruce had been there for each one, since you still lived in the Wayne estate.

Bruce never quite stopped feeling guilty after that, too.

and while the sun always feels sorry for it’s envy, the moon understands.

And now it was years later. Years later, and it was just a few days after you did something stupid. You’d slipped up, accidentally coming home much too late.

You were always quite bad at navigating Gotham, especially at night. So you’d wound up lost, in one of the worst parts of the city. One of the more vampire infested areas.

And you’d been bitten, and turned. You’d become one of them.

You didn’t mean to, you honestly didn’t. You tried to hide the signs from Alfred and Bruce. From Alfred, you hid it quite well. He just figured you weren’t feeling well, having a migraine.

But Bruce knew better.

He always could tell when you were lying.

So when Bruce had the confirmation that you were a vampire when you’d almost attacked him just the night before. He’d come home a little more beat up and hurt than usual, but nothing serious. To him, at least.

But to you, a newly turned vampire, resisting the urge to not attack when you hadn’t fed once just yet was impossible.

And that’s how Bruce found out. But he didn’t have the heart to kill you. No, he didn’t. He couldn’t kill the one person who he’d seen as a younger sibling for so many years. He couldn’t kill the person he’d tried so, so hard to protect from the infestation of Gotham.

So Bruce told Alfred, right after you’d fled Wayne manor.

And that’s what lead up to now.

she always gives the spotlight to the sun whenever it asks, as gentle or harsh or beautiful as it may

So here Alfred was, gun in hand. Stood before you.

Your gums burned and ached so badly due to how long you’d been going hungry. But you manage to hold yourself in, just simply standing there. Looking at Alfred, as you both stand in that trash filled alley, walls covered in graffiti.

“How long?” Alfred asks, finally breaking the silence that had been held for the pasty thirty minutes of you two staring at one another.

It’s hard for Alfred to hide the way his voice quivers. The way his hands tremble, nearly dropping the gun that was aimed right at you.

Your quiet for a moment, swallowing the forming lump in your throat. You can feel tears stinging your eyes, just like they did when you’d gotten the nightmares. You draw in a quivering breath, hands clenching painfully, nails forming crescent moons into your palms.

“Almost a week.”

Alfred is quiet. You can hear the way his heartbeat picks up, the way his breathing faltered for just a moment, as if he struggled to take in any air.

Alfred takes a moment to steel himself. To steady his emotions.

You and Alfred both have this thick weight in your chests. In your entire bodies. It’s like static, and it brings with it a bitter acidic taste to the mouth, makes the tongue go numb and heavy like metal.

Everything’s quiet, as Alfred steadies his aim again. He cocks the gun, too. But he closes his eyes when he does that, only opening them again after the click resounds.

“I’m sorry, Alfy. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” You begin, eyes glistening with tears. And before you know it, they are falling.

The same tears that Alfred could remember wiping off your face when you were six-years-old. The same tears that would cause him to nearly trip and fall on his own feet when he’d heard you crying due to those night terrors when you’d first come to stay with him and Bruce.

The same tears that he’d spend almost an hour every night coaxing to a halt. Sometimes even telling you stories about your father. The stupid things they’d do together, the stupid things Alfred did when he was a teenager.

And he’d smile when those tears stopped, halted by your little giggles that made relief flood his chest, warming it.

And before Alfred knows it, he’s stepped toward you. Gun still ready to fire, of course, but he uses his free arm to bring you close. And he hugs you.

Alfred hugs you in the same way he did when you were little, gently patting your back as his cheek rests on the top of your head, his gaze watching as the sun rises in the distance. And you cry.

You sob into him, hugging him back. Hugging him back so, so tightly. All you can get out between your hiccupping, broken sobs is just the words “I’m sorry, Alfy, I’m sorry” over and over. And Alfred simply continues to console you, replying with a very quiet, broken words of his own.

“I know, little moon. I know.”

Bang.

You fall limp in his arms. And Alfred weeps, cradling your bloody body in arms. For the first time in a long, long time, he cries.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, my little moon.”

because the sun always rises, for the moon cannot lead with it’s gentleness for forever, for the world is not as gentle and forgiving. there will always be the light on the morning horizon, drawing your attention away, as the moon dips away from the sky.

[thesmallmeggles]

🌑 Hi-Fi Rush: Shadows Across The Moon 🌑

Horror Fantasy AU

(The AU name is inspired by the lyrics of In A Blink)

Since it's close to Halloween, I wanted share this AU I came up with earlier in the year.

*Background Info*

The Vandelay Estate, located on a remote island, is overrun with monsters following Roxanne Vandelay's disappearance five years ago. Most human denizens have either fled for the mainland, hid in their homes, or met gruesome fates while attempting to fight off the monsters.

Prior to canon events, Kale struck a deal with a paranormal entity (SPECTRA equivalent) in exchange for wealth and power (because he's too lazy to work for it). The entity demands that Kale lure others to the island to appease it. The only way to banish its' tie to the mortal plain is with these special medallions the bosses have. (The source of their monstrous powers.)

Deal with the Devil scenario: magical prosthetics in exchange for giving Kale blanket permission to feed off your life force and mind control you.

*Characters*

🎶 Chai is a human summoned to the island by a supernatural lure. He gains magical music powers in a ritual.

🧙‍♀️ Peppermint is a human witch - her magic is based around temporal and spatial manipulation. She's also skilled with firearms and technology. 808 is her familiar.

🧙‍♂️ Macaron is a spellcaster/inventor who specializes in creating constructs (fantasy robots) like CNMN.

💀 All the Kale Era robots are replaced by various monsters like slimes and skeletons. The BK models are constructs similar to CNMN.

🧅 QA-1MIL is an ogre (big, mean, eats humans)

👺 Rekka is either a Frankenstein's Monster type deal (big, strong, powered by electricity), a Gargoyle (protection), or a Demon (contract). She is responsible for summoning/creating monsters along with Zanzo.

🐍 Zanzo is a Rogue Scientist (he already is one) Gorgon (the hair). (Man can be both!) He wears mirrored safety goggles for personal protection and to keep from petrifying others by accident.

🧟‍♀️ Korsica is a human later revived as a Zombie. She keeps outsiders from interfering with Vandelay Bosses' business. Might be under Kale's thrall.

🧜‍♀️ Mimosa is a Siren (enthralling voice and wings). She is responsible for luring folks to the island.

🐺 Roquefort is a Werewolf, of course. He is the resource management guy.

🧛‍♂️ Kale is a Vampire. He feeds on psychic energy rather than blood.

[bigbadripley]

Chapter 18 - Trippin

Marc Spector&Co. x Ex!F!OC, F!OC x Modern!Miguel O'Hara

Summary: Everything changed after Marc and Simone moved to New York. Being in a relationship with the Fist of Khonshu proved to be difficult enough without the added obstacles of normal relationships being forced into the mix. With seemingly irreconcilable differences overhead, fate’s plans continue to drive the pair back into each other’s lives, testing their patience, self-control, and new relationships. Is it truly written in the stars, or is it old habits taking over?

18+!! | Third-person omniscient | Dark elements | AU/AT |   Warnings: Language, OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma. Effects of trauma in adulthood. Angst, reference smut, reference to non-dubious consent, mention of death, reference to violence, mentioned use of tobacco, lots of arguing, miscommunications, jealous!Miguel, small injury on a set of stairs, toy firearm use, Steven is yet again the sweetest individual in this series.

Words: 8K

A/N: I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings.

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.

Chapter List and AO3 saw it first!

" I appreciate you for your patience Even though I know it's runnin' thin I ain't tryna put you on the waitlist Maybe we were better off as  friends " -"Trippin" by EARTHGANG

It felt like  the  harder  Simone tried to sleep, the more impossible it became.  Fortunately, at an indiscernible time in the early morning hours , she drifted off into a light slumber .   The unfortunate part came when she was awoken  seemingly right away  by the buzz of her phone under the pillow  next to  her.

A quick examination of her surroundings remedied  the slight confusion she felt  in her sleepy daze: it wasn't some dream she could blink away.  She was indeed right where she thought she was, eyes undeceiving. Once she was re-familiarized, she pulled the cell phone into view of her tired eyes. It was Miguel returning her call.

Miguel apologized for not answering when Simone called the night before, claiming he had fallen asleep on the couch after a long day and woke up to a dead phone. An easy conversation about how strange and awkward everything was soon turned into a beat of dead air so silent you would think they lost connection.

"So, six more days?"  Miguel spoke up, breaking the hush.

"More than that, probably. We have to figure out what to do about this place."

"I'll be betting on at least a week and a half, then?"  

"Likely so. I'm sorry, I didn't think about that."

"No worries. Maybe I'll be down after to help with the house stuff."

Simone smiled at the suggestion,  elated  that he would  both make time for her and tolerate Marc in a time of need. Perhaps things will work out after all.

"We could probably plan that. Sounds nice."

As if Simone's morning couldn't get any stranger, she was overtaken by the smell of melted butter as she descended the stairs. With each step she took, she felt  more and more  anxious to take the next. She wasn't sure if she was ready to face  a full  day with Marc but breathed a sigh of relief when she made it to the floor and heard humming that could only mean Steven was present. 

"Morning, darling."  He greeted her with a smile  upon spotting her  and waved the plastic spatula.  "Pancakes?" 

"Sounds great, thank you, Stevie," Simone replied as her bare feet patted the hardwood floors.  She couldn't help but reminisce about old  times;  watching him make a  simple,   yet   thoughtful ,   breakfast and coming up behind to wrap her arms around his middle, sprinkling dozens of kisses along his back.  

Those memories weren't lost for Steven, either  and  he half-expected to feel those arms caress him.  Once  he saw her take a seat at the table after she passed behind him, though, he knew it was a long cause. 

"Hope you don't mind my being here." He said, not sure what to expect as a response but was pleased to see Simone gesture that it was fine. This made Steven happy, even if it was wordless confirmation. "Marc needs some... rest, you could say. Not big on sleeping during the late hours, yeah?"

Simone watched as Steven flipped a pancake and listened to the satisfying sizzle of the batter hitting the hot cast iron. It hadn't crossed her mind before then how hungry she was, and she nearly missed what he was saying while focused on the rumbling of her stomach. 

"I know it. I didn't get much shut-eye either." She aimlessly replied, now running her eyes over the blue cotton tee and black and white plaid pajama bottoms he wore. She used to steal and wear that same combination all the time. 

"Weird being back?" Steven asked as he looked over at her.  His eyes  locking  with her own broke the trance  and  she diverted to the skillet  right away .  

"Weird being alone with you guys. No offense."

"No, no, I get it." He reassured. Simone looked back up and studied him  taking  a clean plate from the drying rack next to the sink. Mrs. Jacobs took care of them before she left the night before, insisting that we don't need to worry about it. "Bananas and peanut butter?"

He still knows what I like.  Simone thought to herself. She pursed her mouth to keep from grinning and gave him a nod but noticed he had already begun expertly spreading the chunky condiment onto one of the cakes with the back of a spoon. Her eagerness grew as he carefully placed slices of banana and stacked the three wonky-shaped circles on  top of  each other. 

Simone started practicing  how to say   thank you  in her head as the red saucer was placed in front of her, but somehow  all  she could manage was to mouth the phrase wordlessly before picking up the fork and digging in. "So, what are we to do with all of this?" 

The question mirrored Simone's thoughts from earlier, but she  wasn't going to  bring it up until a few days had passed. She knew better than to disrupt the mourning period with such things. 

"You guys take what you want  and  we can probably donate the rest. Maybe invite the friends over to take their keepsakes first?" She suggested with a shrug before shoving a forkful of decorated flapjacks into her mouth. It took a lot of willpower not to  make an audible  groan at how delicious it was.

"That could work." He said before sitting caddy-corner to Simone with his own syrup-smothered hotcakes.  They both ate  in silence  for a while, too busy with their mouths full but  also  not too sure what to say.  She figured there was no harm in discussing what she was considering during the dark hours.

"While we're taking care of this place, I  was thinking I could try and  find my mom."

"Yeah?" Steven questions, so  in shock  by the revelation that he nearly choked on his mouthful of breakfast. He held up a finger, signaling he would finish chewing before he continued and followed it up with a sip of creamy coffee. "You're not feeling guilty, are you?" 

Something like that.   She  thought to herself before standing and  making  her  way  to the coffee pot for her  own  cuppa.  

"I just don't want her to die and me not try to have a conversation with her, ya know?" She admitted. At first, she was looking at the man at the table but diverted her eyes the second the words left her teeth. It sounded insensitive and all too similar to the reason Marc felt so upset over his dad's death. It wasn't a call out, by any means  and  she hoped it wouldn't be taken that way. 

Though Steven knew Simone wouldn't intentionally poke that  bear,  and felt that Estefania deserved no loyalty from her daughter, he wanted to  be supportive of  her ventures.

"That makes sense. I could come with you, you know?" 

As always, Steven was proving to be more precious than she deserved. Once Simone was seated with the warm mug  cupped  between her hands, she made her stance clear.

"No, I need to face her by myself."

"You didn't let us face this alone , why  should you have to do that?" 

Because my mother may have hated me, but if she saw Marc with me now, she'd have a fucking conniption. 

"It makes the  most  sense." Simone tiptoed around the truth. She took a small sip of the black coffee before placing the mug onto one of the wooden coasters still sprawled along the dining table after the get-together from the day before. She loved and appreciated the half-eaten pancakes before  her,  but was suddenly not hungry. 

"But you're not alone, love." He said  in a reassuring tone  before tenderly taking her trembling right hand into his. It was a sweet, telling gesture. It told of a man who wanted to earn her trust again. Simone  just  couldn't count on that  and   she  pulled the hand away with a soft sigh through her nostrils. 

"Stevie, this isn't going to be one of those things where being stuck in a house together for over a week  is going to  make me and Marc miraculously rekindle. I can't forgive getting me tied with that damn bird."

Her words made Steven visibly frown, but that wasn't what he was doing all this for. 

"I understand that  but  it doesn't change that we— I —want to be there for you." He made quick work to correct himself. One, because he didn't want to speak for the others. Two, because he cared no more about their thoughts of this than he cared about their feelings towards the moon mark. He hated that he never said anything about it and felt it was time for some making up  to do . 

Simone's eyes fell into her  lap  where her hands retreated to find more picked cuticles and blood under her right thumbnail. She shook them out to halt the tick, missing Miguel's soft reminders to stop.

"I know. I'll think about it."

The rest of the day is spent doing more  sitting,  quietly ,  until about 3 pm when Moni needed a nap on the couch to make up for her lack of sleep.   It was around this time when Marc took back  over and decided to start the search for her mom.  

All he knew was that she was sent to an old folks' home due to the severity of her mental health and lack of treatment for it, as well as the absence of sound-minded people to look after her. Estie had driven them all away.

He sat at the dining table with his phone in his hand, sifting through a Google search of the facilities in the area and calling each number as quietly as he could muster.  Through several ten-minute holds and a series of 'No, we have nobody here by that name' in different voices, he realized he would need to expand the search.

A loud, long honk of a car horn  was what  pulled Simone from her slumber. She wanted to be angry at this stir but couldn't help but giggle at the  phrases that followed .

"Learn to drive, jagoff!" 

"Yeah? Where'd you get your license? Sears and Roebuck?"

The argument caused her to scramble onto her knees and peer through the shabby curtains to find a car that had most certainly run a stop  sign,  and another  car  halted. While no accident had occurred, the classic Chicagoan road rage had taken off.  She  found she  recognized one of the individuals as someone she  when  to school with.

"Huh. Ricky Tenanbaum's still around." She spoke aloud to herself before a  hm?   from  behind her made her realize she wasn't as alone as she thought. A quick look back revealed Marc at the table, intently scrolling. After Simone asked what he was up to, he told her that he had called every retirement home in Chicago  as well as  a couple in Rockford but still had no luck. 

"Don't worry about that right now, Spector." She insisted as she treked to the table, now sitting in the seat Steven  sat  before.

"I'm just trying to help. What else am I supposed to do?" Marc asked, gesturing to the still home surrounding them. She understood not wanting to become encumbered by traumatic thoughts of his boyhood.  If her education taught her anything,  it's that you should  by  all  means  take your time with acceptance, but it only gets more difficult the longer you wait.

"Have you been to your room yet?" She asked, knowing the answer already.

"No."  

"I'm gonna go check it out." 

"I'll stay here." 

"You'll have to go up there at some point when we start gutting this place," Simone stated the obvious, hoping to get through to Marc how much it's going to suck, even if he holds off. "You afraid it isn't what it used to be?"

"I'm afraid of it being exactly how I left it." 

Though Simone was trying so hard to not put pressure on him, she realized it might not be a heavy  push,  but tender  comfort,  that he needed.  Just as  Stevie did earlier, she took Marc's hand to let him know he wouldn't be unaided.

"Let's go." She spoke softly, nodding her head towards the staircase. He understood what he needed to do and silently agreed.

They  walked slowly , side-by-side  up  the stairs, neither  one  dropping the other's hand. Though Simone would never admit it out loud, it felt right. Just like old times, but not the old she chose to forget. Much older, like the children they used to be. 

Once they  made it to  the bedroom door, Marc's hand was sweating around hers, and his knees had grown weak. Fear of the unknown had taken hold  and  he was too afraid to open the door himself. A brief squeeze of his hand told Simone everything he needed to say, and she took charge, using her opposite hand to turn the knob for him.

The door creaked loudly on the hinges and resonated through the quiet landing to reveal the very same room they both remembered, unchanged from childhood.  The sight of  books, knick-knacks, old toys, and furniture collecting dust was almost a relief to Marc, who started stepping into the room before Moni to look around.

As her eyes darted around the room, she passed up dingy Transformers and the shelves they sat on to lay hands on a relic she spotted in the nearly empty closet. Brown leather  now  a tad wrinkled with age,  it  was none other than her old bomber jacket. 

"Fuck me, that's impressive." She laughed as she pulled it from the wire hanger it resided. It stirred up an  air of  undisturbed closet smell as the familiar heaviness rested in her fingers. "Nearly two decades  and  this old thing  still  looks stylish."

At this, Marc's attention was pulled away from the old posters he admired. 

"Holy shit! I always meant to give that back." He said, joining Moni by the closet. The coat conjured an image in his mind of the woman who held it now, wearing it as a kid. It was always far too big but kept her warm for years, up until the day he borrowed it. It was once her father's, and it was one of the few items of clothing that wasn't feminine she could get away with wearing because of that fact. As if Moni read his mind, she took a deep breath. 

"Sometimes I forget he's dead." She spoke absently as the memory of her first birthday without her father arose. The feeling of abandonment followed. He may as well have been dead long before he passed. "I guess never calling your only child while doing time in federal prison will do that." 

Marc watched as the face of wonder and curiosity wore off and was replaced with an expression he knew all too well: disappointment. Her arm extended to put the coat back where she got it.

"Oh no, you're taking that with you." Marc protested. 

"Like  hell,  I am! It fits you better than it did me." She replied, now thrusting it in his direction. "You take it." 

It was then that Marc spotted the plastic handle of an old Nerf gun poking out of the basket next to him.  Without wasting a second,  he went for it quickly and pointed it at the woman before him.  Did he know for sure it had anything in it? No, but Moni didn't know that either.

"Say you'll take it  or   you're getting  a foam dart to the forehead." He threatened playfully. Last time he held one of these, the main rule was to not aim for the face  or  you could take an eye out. He was far better with far more dangerous weapons these days. Moni's jaw dropped,

"That's not fuckin' fair! I'm unarmed!"

"Take the jacket, Moni." He attempted to speak sternly and cocked the plastic firearm for effect. Simone knew he would do it, but she refused to give in if it was the last thing she ever did. Especially now that it has become a game to him.

"Not. A. Chance." She spoke slowly, annunciating each syllable. 

Marc realized it was about as good a time as any to find out if the thing was loaded, took aim, and squeezed the bright orange trigger, causing the sound of the spring-loaded suction bullet to announce as it shot. Moni held the jacket up over her face for protection and heard the foam bullet bounce off of the leather with a thud before it fell to the floor.

"You missed!" She shouted before throwing the coat in Spector's direction and bolting through the bedroom doorway. Without dropping the toy, he let the outwear fall to his feet and took off after her. 

Laughter and false screams erupted from Moni's throat, clearly having fun as she went down the stairs as quickly as she could muster. Somewhere in the  middle;  however, she lost her footing and tumbled down the remaining steps. Marc watched as delight turned to pain when her head smacked one of the wooden stairs.

Without a second thought, he tossed the toy back into the room and rushed to her side. 

"You alright?" He questioned, clearly panicked. Simone felt like her brain had been shaken up as pain bloomed above her left temple, knees, and elbows. She attempted to pick herself up from the floor but was nearly pulled up against her will before she could make the effort. 

"Fine, just gonna bruise." She explained as her hand found the knot forming on her hairline. She stumbled again, clearly rocked, as Marc helped her to the sofa. 

"I'll get some ice." He told her once she was seated.  All he could come up with was  a bag of steamable frozen peas, but it was better than nothing.

Simone didn't want Marc to make a fuss over her. After all, nothing was broken, and aside from a possible skidded knee, no skin was open. Still, she couldn't help but watch  admiringly  while he doted on her and muttered expletives into the freezer, failing to find an actual ice pack.

Must've hit it really hard.  She  thought to herself, finding the thoughts to be out of place.

Upon returning with the peas, Marc knelt down in front of her and brushed his thumb gently around the bump, as well as studied her eyes for signs of a concussion. "No nausea, dizziness, confusion?"

"No, not really," Simone answered as she took the bag from his hand and placed it on the affected area. Absently, Marc put his hand on it as well. For a moment that felt like an eternity, she didn't protest.

This is how it's supposed to go, right? We take care of each other.  She thought, silently grazing her eyes over each line that made up the  face  she knew so well. Loved, even. He was still handsome as ever—it didn't take sexual interest to recognize that—but being so close to him again made her brain feel like it was short-circuiting. 

It was  just  like that night in the office, his mouth mere inches away from hers. That was before she knew the truth, and as the thought took over her mind, disgust pooled in her stomach  and  anger flared in her eyes. "I got it." She insisted sternly, shooing his hand away. 

Visible confusion filled Marc's face, wondering how she could go from hot to cold in  a matter of  seconds. The more he stayed in place, pondering it, the more pissed off she began to appear. "Don't look at me like that." She nearly snapped. Marc stood,

"Well, don't act like I'm just supposed to pretend  like  I don't feel the way I feel."

"I should say the same to you!" She spoke with an unbelieving tone. "You keep looking at me like I'm supposed to  just  accept what happened. Forgive and forget."

"Fuck, Moni, I didn't know!" Marc stated, throwing his hands in the air.  He knew he had said it a dozen times  already , and when she rolled her eyes at it as always, he knew it would fall on deaf ears again.   "He said you would be protected  and  that  felt like a good enough reason."  

His explanation still wasn't satisfactory as Simone stood from the couch, squeezing the bag of peas so hard it popped open, and green pebbles scattered and clacked on the hardwood floor. 

"You should've known there was a catch!" She barked.

"I'm sorry." He said. Marc  was  sorry that he didn't look into it further, blindly trusting the untrustable, but he wasn't  sorry  for thinking it was the right thing to do at the time. Seeing right through this and knowing he was telling her what she wanted to hear, Simone scoffed. 

"Apology not accepted. I don't have an ounce of forgiveness in me for you. I'm only here for your dad, and the second our business is done here, I'm done with you again. Understood?" 

They stood staring at each other for a  minute  solid, unmoving  except  for blinking eyes. There was a time not long ago when a moment like this would be broken by knocking the throw pillows off of the couch and engaging in mindblowing sex.  The look in Moni's eyes this  time ;  however,  gave away that her mind was far away from that conclusion.  A very different face than the one she wore moments ago.

"I understand," Marc replied calmly with a hint of chagrin.  It seemed Moni was  pleased with this response and pivoted around to head upstairs but was stopped dead in her tracks once again when the man failed to hold his tongue. "I  understand  that you seemed pretty ready to forgive and forget in my office the night we  talked about  this. You showed me right there that you miss it as much as I do, but you're not ready to  talk about  that."

The thought of turning around and knocking him upside his head flashed in her mind. His words were like a lit match to the kerosene in her veins. It wasn't the fact that it happened, it was the fact that she went into that office pissed at him  and  the second she crossed that threshold, it was gone . Like  a spell. 

The so-called  moment  happened  as a result of  the mark, and she was sure of it. The bodily autonomy she worked so hard to grasp? Gone the second she was in his domain. That wasn't all on her, and she refused to accept it as so.

"Alright, mate. That's enough." She heard Steven speak from behind her in Marc's stead, having forced his way out to stop any further discourse. Without looking back, Simone disappeared back up the stairs.

While Simone sat sulking in the bedroom, she listened to the distant discussion downstairs. Did she want to fight with Marc right now? Not at all, but she would be damned if  she  were to apologize for standing her ground. Still, she knew it would all go  a lot  smoother if they tolerated one another.

She was lost in her  own  thoughts enough to miss the footsteps growing closer to the bedroom door she sat next to but was pulled away by the soft thump of Marc's forehead resting against the wood.

"I wish there was a way for us to just be okay. Be friends again." He spoke through the barrier. Simone's sinking feeling deepened at the bummer she heard in his voice. 

"Marc, I don't think we could ever  just  be friends." She responded, not bothering to hide her frustration at a fact that he  also  believed in. "Fuck, I don't know that we were, to begin with." 

It  sounded awful  in her own ears. After an entire childhood of telling everyone around her that they were  only  friends, nothing more, would she really accept it now? Simone expected Marc to get defensive, but the slight snicker from outside confirmed that he had his suspicions as well.

"Just a couple of kids who didn't see what everyone else seemed to see. That makes sense." He spoke tiredly, possibly just trying to avoid another fight. She didn't have it in her to change her mind or disagree. It was exhausting. 

A long pause weighted heavily on Simone in the bedroom by herself. She  thought about  inviting him in so they wouldn't have to speak through the walls, but felt it was pointless. The door didn't lock, and it was his house. As it would turn, Marc would beat her to it. "Can I come in?" 

At first, she nodded to herself before remembering he couldn't see her.

Yes.   She  then thought to herself before remembering  he  couldn't read  her  mind. 

"Yeah." She finally spoke aloud. Marc entered the room slowly, unsure what  he could  find upon opening the door. He found her sitting on the floor with her knees to her chest and her back against the wall. He nearly held out his hand to help her  up ,  but thought better of it and joined her, leaving a wide birth between them. 

Is this how it'll be the whole time?  He wondered silently.  Why does it have to be so hard to  just  get along? 

From what he could make out in his peripheral vision, Moni hadn't been crying  or anything , which made him feel a little better. He ran what he wanted to say to her a thousand times over in his head, but it was caught in his throat like a lump of peanut butter. Her silence spoke volumes for her, though, and  told  him she wouldn't be speaking until he did.

"You know, I...  I don't know how to fix  any of this  or make any of  it  right.  Seems like when I try, I screw it up even more."  He spoke softly, losing  the words he originally intended , and improvised something close.  

Of all the things Simone wanted to say in response—kind, harsh, half-truthful—she tried to land somewhere in the middle and stand on business without picking another argument.

"You can't expect me to just suddenly overlook the bullshit and fall in love with you again." The words came out  a lot  sharper than she planned, and to Marc, they hit him in the chest like daggers. She hated she could feel the pain of her own words but couldn't tell for sure if it was hurt she felt for  herself,  or the connection between them causing her to feel what  he  felt. 

"Ouch." Marc voiced the ache.  "Hearing you say you don't love me anymore solidifies it , I guess ."

"I mean, it's not that I don't-" Moni spoke up quickly  then  stopped, unsure of what overcame her and why she felt compelled to correct herself. " Obviously  there's love for you, or I wouldn't be here." 

"And you have that love for Miguel now?" He asked, feelings unclear over whether he wanted to hear the truth  or not . He kept his eyes away from her face to avoid catching her if she lied. 

Was she happy? Absolutely. She considered the word  love  with Miguel in mind and had chewed on it several times already. Maybe the problem was it felt so different this time that it was unrecognizable. Still, as far as she was concerned, it was none of Marc's business.

"Everything with him is still new, Spector. Love is a stretch." 

What drove Marc crazy was that it wasn't a simple  no . He chose not to dwell on it, afraid of hearing what he didn't want to, and  chose  to veer off course.

"He just seems so boring  but  I guess it's normal that you want." 

"Right.  Normal ." She said sarcastically. To her surprise, he didn't seem to pick up on the tone, too lost in his  own  thoughts. Her eyes stayed glued to her  socks;  dark blue with a pattern that she supposed was supposed to look like sushi rolls but instead seemed like colorful blobs.

"If I left all this behind, would that make  something  right between us?" Marc asked with a hint of hopefulness. Though Simone still wanted to avoid a fight, she found the question laughable and couldn't keep a snicker from escaping her nose.  In her mind,  he already knew the answer and was wasting his time asking.

"You couldn't leave being the fist of Khonshu behind. It's ingrained in you now."

"I might if you gave me a reason to." He replied. Amusement was quick to bubble into irritation  and  she felt her neck tense up. 

"I thought I did a long time ago." Simone spat but followed the outburst with a deep breath. In retrospect, Marc knew it was a dumbass thing to say. She was right.

This time, a prolonged quiet blanketed the room  and  the thought of the photo downstairs clouded her mind before she cleared her throat. "Your dad wouldn't want us to fight. Like on that fishing trip, you accidentally knocked me off the boat, and I  swore  you did it on purpose." 

"You didn't talk to me the entire ride back, and then once we were out of the car, you tackled me to the ground."  Marc chuckled at the memory of himself bending over to reach into the water and almost losing his balance, trying to grab something to stabilize himself and Moni being the closest ,  but  also  unsuspecting ,  victim.  

Before either of them could think, he heard a splash from the other side  and  his friend was nowhere to be found until her head popped up above the water. Dark, tousled strings of wet hair stuck to her face  and  her hat floated next to her as she coughed up water she accidentally breathed in.

"I was so pissed to be riding back in soggy clothes.  The whole time  I  was  thinking   'I'm gonna beat the brakes off this guy when we  stop '  and I meant it, too!"  

"Dad had us stick our noses in opposite corners until we apologized and hugged it out." 

"Just be glad it wasn't my mom who witnessed it. Would've been belts to asses." 

They laughed for a good while  and  once it died off, they  found themselves finally looking  at each other. Though they were much older now, the children they were resided in their eyes and recognized one another instantly. Sadly, their newer, more mature facial features were quick to overpower them.

He's just too pretty.  Simone thought to  herself,   involuntarily,  before she remembered why she was sitting on the floor in the first place.  Get ahold of yourself, Fredrick.

I'd kiss her right now if I didn't know better.  Marc's mind mirrored, knowing if she could hear his thoughts, she would kick his ass. Luckily, she couldn't, and if his mental images were all he had  left;  so be it.

Both of  their inner monologues were interrupted by a loud rumble that could only be a hunger signal from Moni's stomach. Neither of them had eaten since breakfast, and it was nearly dinner time  at this point .

"You know what we need? Tacos from that place on Howard." Marc suggested as he stood up, holding his hand out to help her  up . She took it and brushed her palms over her butt and legs while he pulled out his phone to call for food.

The tacos were delivered  and  they started chowing down immediately, both seated at the table and not speaking.  As much as Simone wanted to attempt conversation, she was disheartened  by the fact that they only ever  seemed to get along when they  weren't  talking to each other.  Her internal strife was eventually overpowered by her need to break the awkward silence.

"I could move back here just for these." She said mostly to herself. This statement perplexed Marc, having heard her say every negative thing one could say about Chicago. 

"You  actually  mean that?" He asked curiously before putting the final bite of his fifth taco into his mouth. Simone  was only trying  to make conversation and didn't expect the grilling, so she shrugged.

"I mean, I don't know." She started, realizing she might not have been truthful. Though the carne asada with cilantro and onions would forever be in her heart, she could get good tacos almost anywhere. "I hate this place and everything we went through here." 

When she felt relieved of the question, she leaned back in the wooden dining chair, running a trimmed nail between her teeth to pick out a stubborn bit of steak that had jimmied its way in there.

"You know, I thought about it," Marc spoke, hoping Moni had not given up on the subject  entirely .

"About what?" 

"Asking if you wanted to move here instead of New York." 

At the mention of this, Simone suddenly  had a  hankering  for a cigarette. There certainly would have been enough crime for him here, but she knew  he  knew better than to bring it up.

"You know what I would've said." 

"You would have asked if I was out of my fuckin' mind." Marc chuckled, which made Simone laugh along with him. It was a gratifying sound, them finally agreeing on something. Once it ended, she changed the topic.

"I'm stuffed." 

"I bet. You just smashed eight street tacos." Marc began, having only had five himself with a few left over. "Where'd you put it all?"

"Do you want me to say that it goes to my rotund ass? Because that's probably true." Moni joked.

And a nice ass it is.  Marc thought to himself before realizing it wouldn't be wise to say anything aloud that would be in agreement. They were getting closer to being okay  and  the last thing he wanted to do was say something stupid and ruin it when it  just  barely began.

Though Simone felt the same, she couldn't tell if she wanted him to make a comment about her butt joke or not. She brushed it off as a feeling of wanting attention she didn't need and let it go as  easily  as she let go of the hardy gut laughs they had shared together.  She ��missed this. She missed him. It terrified her.

"We could  try  the friends thing." She blurted out just as the idea entered her mind. It seemed to catch Marc off guard, and he tilted his head in confusion. It was a very different tune than she was singing earlier. "It sounds a lot better than me hating you."

Hearing Moni say it out loud made him realize what he had said before was a blatant lie, even if he didn't catch on  at the time . The word  'friends'  in reference to their relationship stung deeply. He, again, didn't want to ruin  a perfectly good  moment of getting along. 

"Wow. Didn't think you'd come around so fast." 

"It has to work correctly, though. No being buddy-buddy with ulterior motives." 

In other words, no hanky panky.   She  thought.

"Moni, I just want you in my life again. I don't give a shit how." 

Another lie, and this time, Marc could tell she noticed with the doubtful look in her eye. He expected to be called out on it but  ended up proceeding  to speak before she could. "Did I tell you how much I appreciate you  for  doing this?"

"Don't worry about it. You'd have done the same for me." Simone trailed off at the thought, knowing she may need him sooner than either  of them  thought. " Will  do the same for me. There's a possibility she's already dead."  

"How'll that make you feel?" Marc asked.  Moni rested her elbows on the table and her chin on her palms, familiar with  the technique he was using .

"Are you shrinking me?" 

Marc met this with a snicker and a shrug, 

"Just wanting you to talk to me." 

Simone didn't think very fondly of her mamá by any means. The woman was as much to blame for the torment she endured as a youth as her uncle was. Estie opened the door for her  own  daughter to be ripped apart by her peers, the church, everyone. Her mother—the one person left on the planet Moni was supposed to count on—refused to protect her.

Knowing what she knew now after years of education, she knew her mother had severe religious psychosis, and she knew not to blame someone for their psychological issues. Simone felt her mom was the one exception to that. She used to hope against hope that her mother would miraculously die, crossing her fingers that it would solve her problems.

Now, after  coming back  and being forced to think everything over, she was ashamed of those thoughts. 

"I would feel like shit for waiting this long." She finally answered after what felt like forever of debate with herself.

"Like I do?" 

"So you're here out of guilt?"

"I guess so. What does it say in your books about that?"

"That you really  are  human, after all." 

"Oh, joy. I was beginning to have my doubts." Marc quipped back at the snide remark, which garnered a laugh, but he wanted to get away from the subject of himself and back to Moni's feelings. "So, if we find out that your mom's dead, then what?"  

"Figure out what they did with her remains , see  if a last goodbye is possible." 

"You gonna cry?" 

"Fuck you!" Moni shouted with a giggle and false offense, meeting his shoulder with a playful backhand. 

Their moment of peace among each other would end just as soon as it began when Simone's phone  began  ringing from her pocket. The song  'The Joker'  by Steve Miller Band grew louder once she pulled the device out and saw it was a video call from Miggy, whose name in her phone was affectionately changed to  'Space Cowboy.'  "Shit, I gotta take  this " She announced as she began to stand up to take the call outside.

"It's okay, you can answer it," Marc said, idly placing his hand on her back to stop her. "Pretend I'm not even here." 

For a moment, Simone hesitated and felt a rush of panic overcome her before a sense of calm. She had nothing to hide from either of them. Any other time, she would have bitten Marc's head off for the intimate gesture he  committed,  but noted the understanding in his eyes as he removed the hand and thought better of it.

She placed herself back in the dining chair and brushed her thumb over the green button to answer the call, feeling immense delight when the face of her affection appeared on her screen, thankfully wearing his glasses in case Marc happened to see.

"Hey, what's up?" She greeted with a million-dollar smile.

"Not much, I actually started looking into where your mom might be, and I believe I got a hit."  Miguel began, sounding confident. Marc couldn't help but cross his arms sternly at his words, feeling a hint of jealousy that the other man made more progress.  "There's an Estefania Fredrick at Greenhurst Retirement in Aurora. Ring any bells?" 

"That's probably her. Send me the details; we'll look into it." Simone responded, still smiling. Miguel's, on the other hand, seemed to falter.

"'We' as in?" 

"Marc and I. We've been looking, you know."

"Right."  Miggy's tone grew cynical.  "You and Marc." 

How he spoke puzzled Simone and caused her to feel slightly concerned. She attempted to save the mood.

"I  really  appreciate you using your resources to check on this, Miggy. I do." 

"I guess I just assumed we'd go at this together." 

"You're still welcome to help , the  more the-" 

"No,  no  it's cool."  He interrupted, vocal inflection revealing that it was clearly  not  cool.  "I have a lot of work I have to do, anyway. Let me know what comes of it." 

This wasn't a direction Simone was expecting this call to take by any means, and she couldn't stop the tightness in her chest that came with her rising anxiety. She felt embarrassed taking this call in front of Marc now as if she had been putting on a ruse and was being exposed in real time. She refused to look in his direction for fear of him seeing right through her.

Marc knew the envious man's attitude well. It spoke of insecurity and doubt, and he would  be lying  if he said there was no reason for him to feel that way. Even then, he didn't appreciate how he was speaking to her as if she had already done something wrong.

If he isn't scared yet, he's about to be. 

"Hun, really, I want you to help." Marc heard Simone say, the pet name pulling him out of his thoughts before he realized it wasn't directed at him.

"I did, but you obviously don't need me for the rest  of it ." 

When Miguel said that, Moni began to stand up and head toward the stairs, being sure to avoid Marc's gaze  who  would  surely  find how nervous and frustrated she was. She felt she  would be able to  turn the tide if she continued without an audience. 

"Maybe not, but I'd like you to be a part of this. It seems like you wanna be, also. It's fine." 

"Don't do that." 

"I'm not  doing  anything," Simone said defensively, tilting her phone  a bit  towards the ceiling as she walked to capture as little of her frown as she could. 

"He was back there when you answered, wasn't he?"  Miguel asked, clocking the fact that she was moving. She didn't see the significance and rolled her eyes,

"What of it?" 

In her distraction, she  didn't notice  Marc following her at a distance, feeling the need to stay nearby and growing irritated with the  man,  himself.  Given how highly Moni spoke of Miguel,  this felt like a  major   fall from grace.

"Just seems sketchy that you'd take my call away from him now." 

"Why are you being like this?" Simone questioned, hands becoming visibly shaky now with agitation. The possessiveness was annoying her.

"Simone, you really can't blame me for being concerned.  You act like this is  a  normal  thing  for people to do  and  I can't help but feel like there's something shifty happening."  

"So  now  you wanna tell me you have a problem with this?" Simone nearly shouted. "If you're so worried, come make a shiva call. See for yourself." "Nope, he's absolutely  not  welcome here. Not a chance, Moni." Marc finally spoke up. This caught Simone off guard  and  she whipped around to find him taking a couple steps closer. She wasn't sure who to disagree with now as his name barely left her mouth before being cut off by an equally pissed Miggy.

"Moni ?" The old nickname that only Marc used spewed from Miguel's lips like sludge and sounded just as disgusting.  "That's fucking hilarious."  "That's enough of that," Marc said cooly before swiping the phone from her hand and pressing the end call button before his face fully registered on the camera. Simone didn't realize what he had done until she successfully took the phone back and saw the face of a woman with rage seeping from her pores staring back at her on the black screen. 

"Why would you do that?" She asked unbelievingly, the only sign of Miguel being the candid photo of him on her lockscreen. She was  sure  that would be the final straw for them.

"You might be okay with him talking to you like that— which,  you  shouldn't  be—but as your friend, I'm not." Marc stood firm.

"As my  friend ?" Moni spat in a way that told Marc she didn't think friendship had anything to do with it. She stomped up the stairs and back to the bedroom once more, closing the door with a ferocity  that was  near slam territory. 

From inside the bedroom,  Simone sat in front of the door, barricading it with her back for lack of a lock.  She tried to call Miggy back, whispering to herself as she heard it ring and ring before going to voicemail.  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

With the phone pressed to her ear, she leaned her head back and hit it hard enough to rattle it on its hinges. She tried to call  once more , but it only half-rang this time before going straight to voicemail. "Fuck!" She roared into the open air.

Though Marc couldn't take it back now ,  and admittedly wouldn't if he could, he didn't care  for  how stressed out she was  acting  over it.  He wondered if he was too hasty. 

Of course not. The guy's an asshole.

"Moni?"  He spoke her name in the form of a question  upon hearing her exclaim the expletive as he stood outside the bedroom door.  The shadow  that was  shown through the crack told him she was directly in front of it to avoid him. 

"Just leave me the hell alone." She replied with a heavy exhale. She was pissed, and it wasn't his right to tell her she shouldn't be. It got under his skin how desperate she sounded to get back in touch with Miguel  and  it reminded him of how she sounded when she yelled his name in the face of Jake after he retreated with no sign of coming back.

The sound of shuffling feet grew further away after Simone expected more  pushback,  but didn't receive any. 

"You're being childish."  She typed  out  a message to Miggy, feeling her stomach lurch as her thumb hovered over the little 'send' button. The fear of only making it worse overtook her and nearly caused her to erase the text, but the sound of his  condescension,  when he repeated her  nickname,  echoed in her brain. 

Simone sent the message without another thought to spare and stared at the bubble until the 'delivered' receipt changed to 'read' with the time following it. The sight made her crave the taste of burning tobacco and that sweet sting in the back of her throat, but going back downstairs surely meant crossing paths with Spector, and she had had her fill of him for the night. 

I shouldn't have come here.   She  thought before tossing  her  phone. The device skated across the floor and disappeared under the  bed  where she heard it hit something solid. Out of curiosity, she got on her hands and knees and retrieved her phone to use as a flashlight, investigating to find a wooden box. 

Is it rude to snoop through dead people's belongings?  She thought to herself.  Nah.

Simone had to reach  pretty  far under to get a good grip on the container to pull it out. The caked dust made her nose itch  and  she questioned the last time a broom touched this portion of the floor, but she was successful in its retrieval.

In her hands was a dark-stained, heavy chest with golden hinges and clasps with the word 'Memories' etched into the face. Simone ran her fingers over the letters as she  questioned opening  it, feeling the rough woodburn. It was beautifully made, likely the work of Mr.  Spector,  himself. The click of the clasps coming undone made it all the more satisfying.

Inside was an unorganized metric ton of old photographs, and as she picked them up and examined them, she realized why they were hidden away. Most of them were of Mrs. Spector, some of her alone, some with her husband, some with Marc, some with Randall, but she was happy in all of them.

Simone realizes she hadn't seen Marc's mom smile  at all  during the last few years she was in Chicago when she saw her at all, which was rare. She had forgotten what it looked like. Mr. Spector put all these away, likely after Randall passed. She closed the box back up but didn't put it back where it came from before climbing  up  into the bed for another night of sparse sleep.

[aris-c0rner]

beautiful deception || one.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 3,589 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: language, minor mentions of bloodshed, brief mention of firearm-induced injury, minor descriptions of violence and pain. most chapters will have similar warnings since this is a gang au, so if you’re uncomfortable with that sort of material, i would suggest not reading. otherwise, welcome to the first official chapter! :)

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞: tuesday, september 2nd. 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 8:12 am. 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: downtown pyongston, korea.

—

At a glance, the Tuesday that changed your life started out as nothing more than an ordinary early autumn morning. The leaves were painted gold while they held on dearly to the trees, the birds were beginning to cross overhead towards warmer climates, and there was only a faint chill in the breeze when it swept gently through the streets. Everything was calm, and everything was familiar. Even your walk along the outskirts of downtown Pyongston was the same as it always was; you passed by the same houses and complexes as you'd passed the morning before, the scenery a constant on your way to the local college.

The only thing that was different on that fateful Tuesday morning was the bullet that ripped through your shoulder in the middle of a run-down convenience store.

Confused? Maybe it'd be best to start from the beginning.

You'd woken up that morning a little later than you would have liked, hitting snooze one too many times until you were rushing through your daily routine to keep from being late to your Tuesday lecture. You pulled on whatever presentable outfit you'd laid out for yourself the night before, your sweet little cat Tommy meowing in protest at not getting his morning cuddles; you pouted at him apologetically while you laced your shoes up, promising to give the calico extra cuddles when you came home from class tonight. He purred and wound himself around your legs as you hastily shoved your textbooks in your bag, glancing at your phone to keep an eye on the time.

You decided you were too behind schedule to make your usual breakfast now. You only had another 25 or so minutes to get onto campus, so you left without eating, planning to stop by the convenience store you always walked past and grab something quick to keep you from getting too hungry during class. Turning your key into the lock, you put your earbuds in and started the brisk walk to your college campus.

The morning was picturesque: birds called out pleasantly as they started their migrations down south, the trees that lined the sidewalk were splashed with color, and the few pedestrians you passed had a smile on their face, as if telling you that today was going to be a good day. Based on the pep in your step and the bright tune streaming from your headphones, you had a feeling it'd be a good one, too.

But you had no idea how wrong you'd be.

You picked up your pace when the large grocery store came into sight, stomach growling at the thought of snagging one of those delicious blueberry muffins you loved so much, and you waved at the only other morning walker on the path as they jogged past you. Looking back, it was a bit odd that there weren't as many people out and about as usual on the normally busy sidewalks downtown; but you paid it no mind. You quickly approached the store and paused your playlist as you swung the door open, expecting to be hit with the smell of baked goods and the chatter of customers.

Instead, you were met with silence. A silence so deafening for this part of the city that it left your ears ringing. Where was everybody?

It was weird; the eerie feeling that something wasn't right started to creep up on you, but again, you paid it no mind. Maybe it was a holiday and you'd simply forgotten? Or maybe there was some political campaign happening in the town square again, and everyone was just gathered there- you figured there was probably a perfectly reasonable explanation for the silence and the lack of people, so you shrugged it off and turned your song back on, searching the aisles for your favorite quick breakfast. Spotting the pre-packaged muffins, you grabbed two and headed for the self-checkout kiosk, not seeing anyone at the register.

It seemed to spool forever until the checkout page finally loaded. You scanned the items and grabbed your card while nodding your head to the music you were playing, swiping it and waiting for the transaction to go through. The screen blinked angrily at you, displaying an error and redo option. You pressed it and still, nothing happened. You jabbed at the screen a few more times, growing frustrated as it kept giving you error messages. "Why won't this thing work?" You said to yourself, sighing and taking your unpaid muffins up to the cashier's counter. But it was empty; there wasn't a single employee to be found in the entire place. You took out your earbuds and pocketed them, standing impatiently by the counter.

"Where did everyone go?" You wondered out loud. You were sure this was going to make you late for your lecture, but you needed to eat something. Your voice almost seemed to echo in the empty store, confirming that you were the only one there; or at least, that's what you thought.

Until a sharp, loud noise- scarily similar to fireworks- came from behind the door that said employees only, the sound nearly unmistakable though you'd never even heard it once before.

Your heart immediately clenched with fear. Pyongston was a generally safe town, and it was barely half past eight in the morning. Surely you couldn't have just heard a gunshot? But the anxiety that riddled your chest said otherwise. You stood paralyzed at the register, unable to move even though your mind screamed at you to drop the muffins and run, and that was when you heard it.

Voices.

Overlapping and angry, you could make out that there was shouting coming from the other side of the door. The muffins and your credit card fell to the ground as you quickly ducked behind the register, grabbing the largest object in your vicinity; oddly enough, it happened to be a metal crowbar, though you had no idea what it was doing in a convenience store. You wielded it with shaking hands, approaching the door with your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

You were almost to it when you heard another loud shout, this one from your back.

You turned around so fast you gave yourself whiplash, not bothering to stop the terrified scream from rising in your throat and you brandished the crowbar wildly. Three tall, intimidating men with masks over their faces were closing in on your position, each of them cocking guns your way. You felt your stomach sink in the cold realization that this was not going to be an ordinary Tuesday anymore: you were in very real and very immediate danger. Your self-defense classes never could have prepared you for this.

"Hey! Don't move another inch!" You shouted fiercely, waving the crowbar around in the air to discourage them from coming any closer. It worked, sort of; the men halted in their tracks and the one in the center removed his mask, revealing a man who looked to be about your age and who sported an extremely confused expression. You refused to lower your weapon.

"Who the hell are you?" He demanded, holding his gun back when you gave your crowbar another swipe in his direction. The other two with him also lowered their guns, but you were too afraid to drop your tool, not sure if they still posed a threat. Maybe they were undercover cops?

Your voice wavered with fear when you gave the man your name. "I'm Song Y/N, I go to the campus a few blocks away." You volunteered the information in case these guys were cops of some sort, just so they wouldn't get the wrong idea. The men holstered their guns entirely, and the maskless one raised his hands in a no-harm gesture.

"You mean you're a student there?" He asked, and you nodded vigorously. He ran a hand through his hair roughly, cursing out. "Shit, guys. She's a fucking civilian." The two men on either side groaned in unison, and you hesitantly let the crowbar drop a little. "Jaehyun's gonna have a field day with this one."

Before you could ask any more questions- namely what in the fuck was going on here - the deafening popping noises resounded from behind the door again, and the three men sprung into action. The maskless one motioned for his buddies to go towards it and he walked right up to you, grabbing your arm without giving you a chance to use your handy appliance on him. "Alright Y/N, here's what we're gonna do." He began instructing you as he led you towards that door. "We're gonna do our best to get you to safety as fast as we can, but you have to stick with us because the store's been surrounded. We have a getaway nearby but they can't reach us until the back rooms are cleared out, so you're gonna have to do exactly as I say. Can you do that?" Your crowbar clattered to the floor as they all brought out their guns again and aimed them at the employee entrance.

Your mind was a chaotic whirlwind of frenzied questions; but you bit them back and nodded, adrenaline rushing through you. "Okay," you said in a choked whisper, not trusting your voice when you were so full of terror. The boy seemed to soften a little and gave you what you thought might've been a reassuring look.

"I'm really sorry for what you're about to see." He warned as he took aim at the door. "Just stay behind me the whole time, and we'll get you out of here. I promise." You nodded again, and he called out a countdown until the three of them broke open the door and stepped inside.

Instantly you were met with a nightmarish scene: six men with red bandanas tied to their arms were in various stages of violence, and you had to stifle a scream when you realized that they were holding the store's owner- and all the clerks- at gunpoint while they ransacked the storage shelves.

The three without bandanas wasted no time in shooting at them, other masked men filing in from different parts of the room. Your hands flew up to cover your ears at the raging noise, cowering behind the boy who'd spoken to you about getting you to safety. You screwed your eyes shut, not wanting to witness the bloodshed, and only opened them when a pair of arms shook your shoulders after what felt like an eternity of gunfire and fighting. It was him.

"Y/N, Y/N! It's alright, you're okay!" He shouted, panicked at the sight of you in so much shock and fear. Your eyes glistened with tears and he tried to talk you out of your panic, grabbing your hands and leading you through the wreckage after the other masked men cleared the way. "Y/N, hey, just keep your eyes on me, okay?" He pleaded, not wanting you to see the gruesome image around the room. "Don't look anywhere else but me. I'll keep you safe, Y/N, don't worry. Just keep your eyes on me." His voice was calming, coaxing you to follow him as he backtracked the both of you out of the scene. You complied and held onto his hands for dear life as he led you away. You held back a gag when a distinct metallic scent invaded your nostrils, knowing without looking that it had to be blood.

You were sure the boy could see the fear in your eyes as he kept his own gaze trained steadily on you; you quickly observed that he was fairly attractive, with a strong jawline and shaggy black hair that hung low over his dark eyes. He was probably your age or barely a year older, as he still had that boyish look to him that you thought must make every girl that crosses his path swoon. You wondered if you would have been one of those girls, too, had you not met this handsome stranger in such a terrifying place.

He looked back over his shoulder before leading you out the back door, and you had to shield your eyes from the sudden onset of the mid-morning sunlight. "Okay, Y/N, we're out. You'll be alright now." He assured you, releasing your hands. You glanced around frantically, expecting to see more fighting, but the coast was seemingly clear. "Who were those guys?" The questions came pouring out of you before you could stop yourself. "Who are you? What the hell just happened here?"

The stranger shook his head as his lips pulled into a thin line. "I wish I could tell you," He said solemnly, "but it's best that you don't know. You never should have gotten mixed up in all this, Y/N. I could just kick myself for not clearing the area of all the civilians before we rushed in." His words only confused you further, with the way he kept referring to you as a civilian; as if he himself was not one. You allowed yourself another question as the boy directed you to the nearby parking garage, the surrounding town still eerily empty. Though you supposed that now you knew why.

"Are you an undercover cop?" You asked him. He immediately laughed, the hearty sound ringing out through the deserted street. Your cheeks grew warm with embarrassment and you suddenly felt silly for asking that. "No, no, I'm not a cop. Although that would make things a lot easier," He said. "The cops don't really like me, or any of my friends, but they don't realize how much work we're doing for them. For this whole town, actually." You cocked your head, hoping he'd say more if only to quell the crazy thoughts racing in your mind. He took in your confused expression and chuckled lightly.

"Let's just say I'm a crime-fighter," He explained shortly. "Me and my friends take out the bad guys." Now it was your turn to laugh, though it came out sounding strangled due to your lingering fear. "So you're a super hero, then?" Your question was rewarded with a bright smile, briefly stunning you as it lit up his face. "Sure, let's go with that."

He motioned for you to turn a corner as you walked; but without warning he winced sharply with pain, and it was only then that you noticed the deep, angry gash running along the side of his neck. "You're hurt!" You exclaimed, pointing to the wound. The boy moved to cover it with his hand, but you quickly swatted them away from the injury, scolding him. "Don't touch it, you might get it infected and then it'll take longer to heal. It's deep enough that you'll probably need stitches as it is." You told him matter-of-factly. He raised an eyebrow, lowering his hand.

"Are you a doctor, Y/N?" He asked teasingly, but the mood dropped when you nodded, telling him that your major was, in fact, studying medicine. You didn't mention how you'd dreamt of being a doctor since you were a little kid. "I'm working on my master's for it." You said simply. You bit your lip before debating whether to continue, deciding the wound looked bad enough to warrant a little help. "I can patch that up for you, if you want." You offered. You always carried emergency first aid with you, and what was one missed lecture anyways if it could save this nice stranger a trip to the hospital? He had quite possibly saved your life back there in the store; you felt the need to repay him somehow.

He looked wary of the suggestion, but after a moment of contemplation, he gave in and sighed a quiet yes. "We don't have much time though," He warned, "the other guys might come back, and we don't wanna be anywhere near here when they do."

You nodded again. "Don't worry, I'll be quick." You hastily shrugged your forgotten backpack off your shoulders and knelt on the pavement, gesturing for him to sit while you combed through the bag to find the kit you needed. You wasted no time in preparing the things you'd need to give him stitches, laying the objects out on top of your bag before readying the disinfectant. You tilted his head to the side to give you better access, and before you could second guess yourself, you were pressing the liquid-soaked cotton to his neck.

He inhaled sharply and balled his hands into fists, and you apologized profusely for the pain. "I'm really sorry, I just have to clean the area first before I stitch it up. This is the worst of it, I promise." You hated how his knuckles turned white when you applied more pressure to the injury; but it had to be done.

He said nothing while you worked, an uncomfortable silence falling over you once you finished giving him his stitches. You had so many things you wanted to ask him, but he'd made it clear that he couldn't give you any answers; so you only let yourself ask one more question, allowing the words to slip out when you handed him some gauze to cover the wound. "What's your name?"

He stayed deadly quiet even after you both stood up. You collected your backpack off the ground and clutched it to your chest, taking a sudden interest in your shoes. The tips of your ears were burning with embarrassment. Why would he tell you his name in the first place? You were probably never going to see him again, anyways. Maybe it was best if you didn't-

A single shot rang out in the once abandoned street.

Instantly, your left arm bloomed with pain, a pain more intense than anything you've ever known before. You cried out and dropped your bag, falling against the boy as you cradled your arm gingerly. Tears made their way down your face and you looked at your arm, feeling dizzy when you spotted the mess of blood and tattered fabric between your shoulder and elbow. The boy grabbed on to your other side and held you to keep from swaying, panic evident in his eyes as black dots started to cloud your peripheral vision.

"Y/N! Oh my god, Y/N, stay with me!" He shouted, alarmed by the rate at which your eyes were blinking rapidly, watching your face begin to go slack. "Hey hey hey, don't close your eyes! Stay with me, Y/N!" He pleaded with you; but the world was steadily becoming more and more blurry. Your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, muffling everything around you as the boy's frantic pleas to stay with him faded into the background of your mind. You felt yourself losing control, but you couldn't fight back, your muscles no longer able to hold yourself up at the searing pain that was already consuming your consciousness.

The stranger let out a shout for help when your body went stiff and leaned fully against him, your eyes closing slowly. The black dots shifted into huge clouds and your mind went silent as you fell unconscious into his waiting arms.

He didn't waste a single second in scooping you up and calling for his team, running towards the sound of men shouting his name. All he could see was the road in front of him, feeling like he was running in slow-motion once the final corner come into view, darting wildly into the street in his desperate effort to save you.

You were light in his hold as the boy sprinted to the getaway location, knowing Haechan was waiting there to whisk everyone to safety as he spotted Yuta waving him over hurriedly from the van. He ignored the burning in his legs as he ran the last few yards, not stopping to catch his breath until you were buckled into one of the seats and the van was taking off. You stayed unconscious as the men stared incredulously between you and the boy, the silence growing all too loud until he broke it with a panicked shout. "Someone call Jaehee to the base, now!"

Johnny complied from the front seat and grabbed the team's only mobile phone in the center console, dialing in a number he knew by heart and raising the phone to his ear.

It rang twice before the line picked up. "Hello?"

Johnny sighed in relief at hearing the familiar voice on the other side. "Jaehee, it's Johnny." He said in a rush, "We need a unit to come to the base ASAP. How fast can you get here?"

Your arm was lifted up by the boy in the backseat where you were strapped in, taking it into his lap and pressing the gauze you'd given him for his neck over your bullet wound while Johnny kept talking up front. He found himself wishing you would wake up, oblivious to the curious looks from the team as he gently brushed your hair out of your face, feeling strangely disappointed when your eyes stayed closed shut.

Johnny hung up and turned to him, giving him a reassuring grin as the getaway car sped furiously towards the underground hideout. The van fell quiet as he waited with baited breath to hear whether they could get you the help you needed.

Johnny nodded softly. "They're on the way, Mark. She's gonna be okay."

Mark Lee gave one last look at you slumped over in your seat, your injured arm still in his lap, cursing himself for not telling you his name.

[bishimightwing]

V; Randy Dandy Oh! (Pirate AU)

TW: Themes and/or mentions of violence, torture, blood, gore, rape, alcohol abuse, slavery, and sex/human trafficking are present.

This verse is compatible with fandoms/lores relevant to:

1600-mid 1800s colonial timelines and fantasies based in such

Norse/Celtic / Other pagan mythologies

Any Thor RPers (of Norse mythology and/or Marvel/MCU

any existing pirate themed franchises (Pirates of The Caribbean, Our Flag Means Death, Black Sails)

Assassin's Creed

Marvel Comics 1602 universe

Some canon DC muses that would be great for this AU (some of which I include in Dick's origin for this AU):

Raven

Zatanna

Bruce Wayne and any of the Batfam

Ra's al Ghul/League of Assassins/Al Ghul family

Lucius Fox

John Constantine

Madame Xanadu

Penguin

Poison Ivy

Swamp Thing

Jason Blood/Etrigan the Demon

Aquaman and Mera, any Atlanteans

Diana Prince and other Amazons

Joker

Harley Quinn

Clark Kent

Lois Lane

Oliver Queen

Jim Gordon

Lex Luthor

Falcone/other Gotham/DC based crime families and syndicates

Synopsis: Between the middle ages and early industrial eras of human history, piracy was the most revolutionary business to save souls from the clutches of slavery, taxing economies, and oppressive kingdom structures. The last bastion of hope for those who would have nothing left to fend for themselves. Such was the business carried on by generations of the Grayson bloodline, circa 1300s A.D. Europe. Richard John "Dicky" Grayson grew up an aspiring aerialist, as opposed to being optimistic about the chance to see the seven seas from aboard a water vessel. He read stories of the greats: Sir Francis, Blackbeard, and even some tragic lores like that of Davey Jones (which he thought to be nothing more than fantasy). Outside of these romantic fantasies, he, as well as his illegitimately married parents, John and Mary, lived their entire lives in a gang of outcasts, led by one Sir Haly; a once respectable socialite praised by the British Army and the elites which they served, whose tastes for the unusual, unexplained, and otherworldly things did not sit well with the King, who sought to make Gotham prime territory for the beginning of western colonial expansion.

For you see, Sir Haly's Circus practiced, unlawfully, as a safe haven for runaway slaves and indigenous folk seeking refuge. Haly was cast out by a supposed polite society, but knew if he could turn a sense of profit out of making refugees into showmen, he'd have enough shilling for eventual provisions of equity for those to whom he gave asylum. Not to mention, pirates would also be looking to him for resources, albeit, humans to traffic. Dicky didn't take well to certain aspects of this culture. So he got wise one day, taking a heavy sack of loot from his family's ring leader while he slept, and by morning one fateful spring day, he bribed a sailor for his ship.

Thus, The Nightwing's first voyage began. He woke up the whole circus of urchins, commanding them to haul ammunition, liquor, food, herbs, cutlery, and even a risky theft of local guard armory cannons and firearms onto the boat. The Graysons were the most worrisome about Dicky's plans, alongside Sir Haly of The Narrows, to whom Dicky would bestow first mate responsibility. The three were of the last standing in concern and trivial thought over the matter before a unit of Royal Navy opened fire in the public, John and Mary hopelessly in the crossfire. Haly had been fatally shot in a calf, limping on his way aboard the vessel. Dick had no choice but to flee, in spite of the tears raining over his cheeks in a look of absolute uncertainty. This was not what he had hoped for.

The Haly's crew set a course for Blüdhaven, a town of natives and refugees alike, not yet eyed for conquest by the Navy, where they might find the means for an expansion of the crew, as well as safe passage within the rivers of the Americas, most of which had been taken over by the British Navy. The crew would rest, recuperate, and hope to set sail for plunder beyond the colonized territories that were vastly becoming the last places their kind would be in before dying. But if the Royal Navy wants to stand in the way, then the blood of the King's men shall be the price to pay, for Dicky's loss, as well as for the suffering his Haly's family went through.

[rinniiart]

Spoptober day 27 - Disappointed Fortune, Fate and Firearms AU (AKA Cowboys) 🤠🐄

This needed a lot of work to actually show what the hell was happening. It got a glowup from the original spoptober sketch. 

[catspawcreates]

Im not ready to post this on AO3, but I penned out Chapter 1 of my Hunted AU - To Poach the Sky

CW: Implied Graphic Bodily Harm | Death

To Poach the Sky Chapter 1 - Emotional Shrapnel

A horrific scream cut short greets your hungry ears. Your body chills and limbs stiffen in reflex to the fatalistic sound. This was it… this would be your end. You dove too deep, stepped on the wrong toes and ended up here…in the death fields as they were so lovingly called by the fans. Game Over as they say.

If you didn’t know any better you could have taken solace among the wildflowers tugging at your legs, reveled in the fresh clean air swirling by, or perhaps even laid down to view the stars hovering in the thick velvet blanket of a sky above. Nature lived and breathed around you, but the soft rustle of the tall grass provided no comfort. You were painfully out of your element, even if it called to your soul in some primal way. Having been raised in the city, your experience with the great outdoors was limited and controlled via camp grounds and cultivated hiking trails, cut out from the forest with human needs in mind.

It was nothing like this maddening anticipation and dark ambiance of the night symphony threatening to engulf you in its wild jaws.

The few still close paused only for a moment at the sound cutoff far too early. Someone’s little child…gone like that. Why did people like these games? What sickness infects humanity with the desire to witness atrocities? Certainly you had stared at your fair share of traffic accidents or watched an action movie or two… or more. But this? It was insane to think that anyone would willingly put themselves into such a dangerous situation.

Oh the forms that had to be signed, their rights waived of their own volition. For what? Money? Glory? A rush of adrenaline? That last one you were certainly feeling in spades. When you took this (ridiculously good paying) reporting job you never imagined those forms would bite you in the ass. It had seemed ridiculous some of the oddly specific terms of the contract, but now… now you realized how foolish you had been to not read over the fine print. Not that it probably would have done you any good with the sleazy language of lawyers. The contracts written with silver tongued ink using terminology only the ones in the know could decipher in a court of law. The opportunity seemed to be just what you always dreamed of, but now… you realized how too good to be true it was.

The others, suited up in tactical gear and armed with firearms you had only seen in movies and video games, moved nearly silently despite the reedy grass they waded through. The cover was weak, but hiding in cover wasn’t exciting. No…this was a game. This was a show, the stakes as high as they come. Your bones and muscles refused to allow any movement. You were still as a statue, sticking out like a sore thumb among the ever moving landscape.

One of your “teammates” side eyed you, the disgust and disappointment evident even behind their protective mask. You didn’t belong here. You weren’t trained or prepared. They had fit you in some basic gear, but it was pitiful compared to their professional equipment. This was a fate thrust upon you by those far more powerful than you. Your stomach lurched at the memory. Pushing down your stomach and your thoughts, you will your body to work. You didn’t want to be a sitting duck. At least a duck could try to fly away from their hunters, and there was no doubt you were being hunted.

You didn’t need to feel the hair standing on end across your skin to know that you were a gazelle among lions. You could practically taste the danger in the air. The tense energy palpable and thick with anxiety. You knew what Could be out here. Maybe you didn’t know exactly what it was, but you hoped for a low value target to be stalking you (even though you knew otherwise). As much as your “team” was hunting their quarry, you could feel it in your basic animal instincts buried deep in your biology that you were equally being hunted by the unknown mark. Bears and wolves were facing off in the night, and you were just hopeful that your end would be quick if it was your end…wishful thinking.

Fewer and fewer silhouettes were in your field of vision. The players were splitting off to stalk the mystery target in their own ways. They could work like a team or go solo, it didn’t matter much either way for the game but it did matter to their pride. The brief realization that you were quickly being left behind left an icy dread trailing up your spine. You didn’t know what to do. Your “team” was equally as dangerous as whatever was out there. They would not keep you safe.

The overwhelming feeling of helplessness wrestled with your will to live, and your heavy limbs collapsed in on themselves as you curled into a ball below the surface of the ocean of grass. There was no real cover in this field. There was no protection. There was no hope.

You muffled your tears, a futile attempt to stay hidden, as you made yourself as small as possible. Maybe you could stay hidden? Another stupidly hopeful thought. You knew they’d be able to sense you, but it was a small comfort to delude yourself. You steady your breaths to quiet yourself further as you notice the eerie stillness around you. Birds held their songs in their throat, the insects hid away in their small crevices and the wind died down. It felt as if existence itself had paused.

Your heart began to beat violently in your chest with heightened senses driving the anxious feeling in your core. Each beat threatening to give you away, you swore it was loud enough to wake the dead.

Silence…

……

…..

Faintly the sound of merry jingle bells lilts across the plain

…..

Was that….

The sharp sounds of gunfire shreds your thoughts in the air as screams pierce the landscape. Heavy pounding upon earth rumbled through the ground enough to shake you from your stupor. Not but a few yards from you a shrill cry bubbled out unpleasantly, gasping with horrifying clarity, much too close for comfort. Your primal fear fueled you as you crawl below the surface of plantlife. You can’t decode what’s unfolding around you, your brain numbing against the horror. You only know you have to move or die. You might die anyways, but at least you weren‘t the one who froze like a deer in the headlights. Yelling, whistling bullets, smooth rhythmic thumping and cries fill the darkness. The professionals that you were with but moments ago filled the night air with a cacophonous melody of ear splitting gun shots, curdling screams, incoherent yelling followed by the thick scent of copper.

The blood pounding in your ears attempted to drown out the chaos erupting around you on all sides. The target seemed to be impossibly fast, weaving through the grass with ease as bone crunching, fleshy sounds accompanied the screams that died out on either side of you. You felt the air leaving you with the rising panic… chest tight with dread constricting your vital functions…

All at once the horrible din hushed. Low gurgling and gasping played on the edge of the breeze before being quickly snuffed out. Stopping, you feel the ground tremble with terrible anticipation. The dramatics of your demise heightened by the rush of fear in your veins. Time lengthening with each increasingly powerful sensation. Purposeful and predatory, the target flaunting their power with each footfall, knowingly fueling your fear and seeming to revel in it with their slow approach.

It was coming for you. How quickly it had dispatched the experienced players. It was unreal, this was unreal… you weren’t really here… you weren’t really here…but you were. You knew what was coming for you. Stories of this “prey” spread far and wide, more myth than truth it had seemed, but no… it was more terrifying than you had ever thought possible. They referred to it as prey but in reality they were hunting an apex predator. No one ever survived.

Shaking uncontrollably your body reverts to the comfort of the fetal position. The pose you held when you came into this world and the pose you’d carry when leaving it.

….. thud

Laying on the ground tears cascade from your eyes blinding you in your final moments. Sobbing and shuddering, your heart feels as though it's about to beat out of your chest, the unbearable wait stretching out painfully.

….. thud

The fear gripping your soul washes through you, a tsunami sweeping you away. The edges of your vision begin to darken, and your mind mercifully numbs to your surroundings. Staring up at the moon shining brilliantly in the sky, you find solace that this beautiful nightscape will be the final image you are left with.

….. thud

A tinge of red intrudes your blurry vision. Drearily looking down through the grass the moon meets your gaze again. You must be delirious. Wasn’t the moon full a moment ago?

….. thump

Eyes closing, your body succumbs to the stress and shuts down. Useless, useless body. So many things left undone. So many promises now broken. You drift in a sea of thoughts and regrets as your mind disconnects from your flesh and bones, blissfully retreating into the void.

…..

On the edge of consciousness you hear a faint

…jingle… jingle…

The sound of your fate coming to meet you.

[frostironfudge]

I Think I Met You In My Dreams Once - Bucky Barnes - Epilogue

Summary: After receiving an honourable discharge from his military service that was caused by the loss of his arm, James Barnes begins to come to terms with several things. He also finds solace in youtube videos, memes and on social media, where he happens to find you.

Pairing: Ex-Military!Bucky Barnes x Fem! Plus Size!Reader (Modern AU)

Chapter Warnings: fluff, angst, swearing, smut, praise, car sex, oral f receiving, p in v, fingering, making out, smut, dirty talking, a little angst from reader's dad, fluff, hurt/comfort, love, happy ending.

Word Count: 11.6k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Fic Masterlist || Main Masterlist || AO3 || Fic Playlist

Chapter Fourteen

Matt holds his breath, standing as they wait for the Judge to take her seat at the Bench. He hears Bucky open and close his fist rapidly. 

“Barnes.” Matt whispers to remind him to not be nervous they had this in the bag.

“I know…” Bucky takes a steadying breath.

“I know, I feel it too, Barnes.” Tony mutters.

“You may be seated.” The Honourable Judge Ramonda speaks, her voice clear and powerful. There is a rush of sounds as everyone takes their seats. 

“We have observed this trial and several branches of its tree. This trial took us to two countries. Involving several misdemeanours and even the usage of a firearm. The jury has deliberated for the entirety of the assigned two days due to the volume of the case load.” She gazes across the courtroom.

“Jury, do we have a verdict?” Ramonda gazes at the jury panel, as a man stands.

“Yes, Your Honour.” He says, gulping nervously. 

“Alright. Let us begin in the case of the intellectual property stolen from Mr. Anthony Stark and without patent production of the stolen bionic device the accused are Justin Hammer and Elmore Beck.”

“The Jury finds them guilty on all counts your honour.” The man reads from the paper. 

Tony and Bucky breathe slightly easier.

“In the case of Elmore Beck and the embezzlement of 75.4 Million US Dollars across 15 countries?”

“Guilty on all counts.” 

Matt breathes easier. 

“In the case of Mr. Quentin Beck using a firearm on Mr. James Barnes.” 

“Not guilty.”

Bucky purses his lips as your gasped, “What?” reaches his ears. He turns to look at you shaking his head. 

“They considered it self defence.” Matt mutters, Tony scoffs, earning a pointed glare from the Judge.

“In the case of Quentin Beck being involved in the financial embezzlement?” 

“Not guilty.”

“In the case of Quentin Beck coercing Mr. Brock Rumlow?”

“Guilty but your honour, the jury would request his sentence be lessened as it is evidenced he was being abused by his father, since childhood, we think he was forced to put his name into this entire ordeal.”

All eyes move to Quentin, who on cue begins to shake his shoulders and has to have his own legal team quietly console him.

You look at the Judge, her expression impassive. 

“We shall consider the Jury’s request.” She announces.

You bury your head in your hands. Bucky gazes back at you, he knew this was not the outcome you wanted. Nor did he, but he knew Beck would weasel his way out of the case. It was all decided on the fated day in the office.

“Ms. Sharon Carter for supportive coercion?” The Judge gazes back at Sharon.

“Guilty.” The Jury informs, Sharon bursts into tears.

You look back up at Bucky, the Judge’s voice fades as his blue eyes greet yours, silently providing support to each other. Matt taps his shoulder, Bucky faces forward. Tony gazes back apologetic.

You dare to look at Beck, who gives you a smirk and a wink. You glare at him, turning away tuning into the Judge assigning the years to the crimes. When it comes onto Quentin’s one guilty count. Your heart breaks as she says six months. 

Justin and Elmore are led out in handcuffs first. Followed by Sharon, Quentin is held back.

The courtroom erupts into chaos, there is a flurry of reporters wanting to get one final comment. A bite of content. Tony’s security head, Happy Hogan enters to lead you all safely outside, in tow with more security. 

You move from the seats as Bucky waits for you before everyone continues walking. A harsh tug pulls you back. Bucky stumbles with you as your hands were intertwined.

“You’re going to regret choosing him, little princess.” Quentin Beck sneers, you pull your arm away from his harsh grip.

“I think you should understand and grasp that I am happy with my James. My only regret is ever allowing you to hurt me.”

Bucky steps in front of you, “Beck, back off. You were given your judgement. Respect it.” 

You grab onto Bucky’s arm, he gazes down at you.

Quentin moves quickly, hand raised,

“Bucky!” You warn, trying to pull him back, his hand leaves yours and the punch is held inches away from Bucky’s face.

The officer swiftly grabs Quentin’s free hand pulling him back.

“I am warning—,” Quentin is tugged away before he can say more.

Bucky turns cupping your cheek, “I’m so sorry, Doll. I’m going to make sure he doesn’t ever try to get close to you again.” he promises, gaze moving to your arm, he breathes easier as he realises the fucker didn’t hurt you.

You cup his palm with your own, “I’m okay, just, just, want to go home.” Bucky nods, looking up to Happy who is speaking to the officers and is making sure Beck’s behaviour is added onto the list of things he has done.

Once you are led out into the hallway, Matt leads you all to a smaller conference chamber. 

“Press is outside and scavenging for something.” He says, hands resting on his hips.

“We’re trying to have the cars be there and have you all just be moved safely, however, do not engage, make statements. Also you will be lead to Stark Industries HQ and then free to go home.” Happy explains.

“Your addresses have been sealed, but incase there is a leak please let me know, I will arrange the necessary formalities.” Matt nods as everyone mumbles out an affirmative response.

Bucky places a protective arm around you, as he guides you down the steps, there is a flurry of flashes and shouts as you all make it to the lined SUVs with tinted windows. You find yourself pressing more into Bucky’s side, his voice somehow even as a whisper is loud among the crowd.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you, just a few more steps. Doll, you’re doing well, focus on me okay?” 

You don’t understand why you find yourself overwhelmed even as you sit in the SUV. Bucky makes sure to have you tucked into his side. 

“You okay there?” His brows furrow with worry.

“I, I just feel overwhelmed.” You admit, gazing up at him.

“I’m sorry, I thought it would be better if I had you with me.” He cups your cheek, biting his lip with more worry, “Fuck, Doll, I’m so sorry.”

“Bucky, this it isn’t your fault.” You shift the partition between the driver and your seats was up and you really, really wanted to be near him.

“But—,”

“Bucky, no, just, no, this is not on you. Do you understand? I think the crowd and what happened inside threw me off. I have you, I feel better, thank you for getting me through that.” You push off your shoes, moving to straddle him. Fingers running through his hair as he gazes up at you.

You knew this look intimately, the way he ran his eyes all over you, the way his palm would follow, cataloging every part of you. Even a hair out of place wasn’t missed by his observation. You were subjected to this gaze even on video-calls that had gaps between them, it was his way of making sure for himself if you were okay.

“Bucky,” The warmth of your thumb brushing over his cheekbone brings him back to you, he nods.

“I’ve thought about it you know.” Bucky knows what he’s doing, he shifts his hips, you bite your lips.

“Ab-about what?” You’re acutely aware of his thumb brushing over the sweet spot upon your neck.

“What it would be like, to have my pussy squeezing my cock in a car.” His pupils dilate, tongue moving over his bottom lip, “How you would have to bite down on my skin to stop your pretty little moans. Fuck, Doll.” 

Bucky groans as you grind down on him, his words turning you needy by the second.

“How long?” You question, fingers playing with the button of his shirt, you were wearing pants and—, “About twenty minutes away.” Bucky informs you, thinking of how would you pull this off.

All his thoughts fly out the window when your lips press fervent against his own. Your lips are haven and Bucky lets himself drown in the taste. His palm on your ass tightens, squeezing the flesh as a speed-bump has you both moan in the kiss.

You shift back as Bucky undoes the button on his pants, the deep navy suit sending you into overdrive now that you’re finally taking it in, you shift back into your place taking your own pants off. The clothes remain discarded on the floor, Your shirt undone will he can have a perfect view of your tits.

His shirt completely off, boxes and pants pulled down to the thighs upon which you’ve made a complete mess. 

Bucky’s thumb moves over your clit, your hips press down almost begging on your behalf for more.

“Look at you, so needy, my pretty little Doll.” He praises as your grip on his shoulders tightens, “Come on,” He whispers, hand moving from your cunt to your hips to guide you to him, slowly as you sink down on his cock, Bucky groans as he bottoms out.

You breath in short pants, feeling stretched out and full. Oh so full.

“Bucky—,” you mewl as the car moves over a speed bump, making him thrust inside you and you clench around him.

“You’re doing well, I’ve got you, want to move Doll, think you can?” His lips move along your chest, biting down as you begin to move, his palm stays on your hipbone, guiding you.

Groans begin to fill the car,  your voices melding as you begin to lose every fibre to Bucky, his taut shoulders and muscles as your hands begin to wander, retracing your etched sanctuaries upon his skin.

The car pauses at a signal, your movements continue, Bucky stops you as he is halfway inside and he thrusts into you, hard, his pace quickened as your head thrown back, the wet sloshing of your arousal fills the car. as the signal starts you lurch, clit pressing deliciously on his pelvis you cant help but cry out.

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, please, please, please—,” you choke on a moan as his thumb finds your clit again, Bucky watches you intently looking so beautiful on the brink of bliss. His own cock throbbing, needing release. Your walls clenching trying to keep him in, your head falls forward as you clench tighter around him.

“Not going to last long, Doll.” He groans as you bite down upon his shoulder, moaning against his skin as your thighs begin to shake, indicative of how close you are, Bucky and you both pick up the pace, movements swift, bordering on sloppy.

Words whispered, praises falling from lips, a prayer of each other’s names. You press your lips to Bucky’s as your orgasm takes over you triggering his own as he cums inside you. Aftershocks move through your body, Bucky’s movements on your clit slow down to a stop.

The glass is fogged, Bucky begins to pepper you in soft kisses.

“Did so good for me, so good Doll. Fuck just want to stay buried in you all day.” He nuzzles into the crook of your neck. 

“Want you to stay inside me too.” You murmur, you feel him twitch inside of you and he groans as your cunt clenches in response. Both of you absolutely addicted to each other.

“Let us get cleaned up. Otherwise I’m going to have to keep you in the car for the remainder of the day.” Bucky chuckles when you swat him, but the two of you know he is very much capable of getting his way.

You place a kiss to his chest, right over his sternum, Bucky closes his eyes savouring the soft tender moment. When your hands return to cup his cheeks, he kisses both of them. A soft blissful smile on his features.

“God I could use a whole drink after that shit show with Quentin.” Tony plops down on the couch in the room, most of the building is free, since he knew it wouldn’t be a productive day and everyone go a head start on the weekend. Bucky nods in agreement.

Peter goes over a few things with Tony, as he seeks advice on his other projects and softwares, Bucky admires the dynamic the two share.

You both were presentable enough to pass what occurred in the car as a heavy make out. 

When the elevator doors open you stand from your own place and run upto the people coming out, Bucky beams as he watches you lift Morgan up as she comes in running with Peter followed by the babysitter Tony had called for them. 

Her arms wrap around your neck and she giggles as you say something. Then Morgan gazes at Bucky then whispers something to you. Making you laugh, you meet his gaze from across the room. Whispering something back to her, Morgan squishes your cheeks to make you gaze back at her.

“Juice Pops!” She announces loudly her excited squeals as you lead her towards the kitchen.

“I see Mr. Barnes is having thoughts.” Tony saying in a teasing manner, but the smile on his face has him know it comes from a place of respect and love.

“What are you implying?” Bucky wonders, eyes immediately finding you as you still hold Morgan while animately telling her a story as she eats her treat with a smile.

Morgan had immediately taken a liking to you, even so far as to trusting you with her favourite crayons within an hour of knowing you. Not even Bucky had that honour till date. 

“You see a picket fence future don’t you?” Tony just smiles when Bucky’s eyes widen.

“Well, yes. However there are complications…” Bucky admits. 

There was what you wanted to do post your bachelors, if you even wanted to settle in this country, his little plan involving your dad, you had moved into his apartment for this trip of yours and Bucky couldn’t help himself but imagine it to be your life together.

Alpine loved snuggling on you chest, Bucky had several pictures of the two of you napping. The apartment started feeling more and more like home. 

“Ask her, I know she won’t say no to it, they way I see it are two people in love who do have a future together.” Tony chuckles as Morgan tries to run in your little game of catch the crook as you speed behind her humouring her agility. 

“It is a lot to ask of her.” Bucky purses his lips, looking down at his palm, thumb tracing over the callouses on his skin.

“It is upto Y/N to decide if it is a lot for her, James, complications exist and will persist, you yourself know that, you’ve been through hell. If you have a chance at happiness, grasp it.” Tony stands as Morgan and you make your way over. He pats encouragingly on Bucky’s shoulder. 

“You two are endgame, Mr. Barnes.” Peter adds with a smile. Bucky shakes his head amused.

Morgan lifts up her arms and Tony picks her up with a smile, “Hey kiddo.”

“Hi Dad.” She places her head on his shoulder, giving a wave to Peter and Bucky. 

“Did you have fun with Y/N?” Tony enquires, mouthing a thank you to you as you settle down next to Bucky. 

You mouth back a your welcome before you rest your head on Bucky’s shoulder. 

“I did, she let me have more juice pops, and she told me a funny story from her childhood.” Morgan recounts the events as Tony listens intently, his gaze softens as she yawns tiredly. 

“Wanna go home?” He questions she nods, “Peter come on, I’ll drop you home too.” 

Peter grins, they all wave as they move down to the basement to leave in the cars that Happy had arranged yet again. 

Bucky looks at you, your fingers playing with his while you’re lost in thought, Tony’s words echo in his mind, and one set of keys in the key ring weigh heavy in his bag and heart. 

“Hey Doll?” he takes a deep breath.

You look up at him with a smile, “Yes, Bucky?”

“I want to take you somewhere… are you up for it?” He seems nervous, your brows furrow but you nod.

“Is everything okay?” You wonder, he nods.

“Everything is, just, I have to do this today.” He says, standing grasping your hand and leading you back to the basement parking.

The drive is silent, Bucky’s leg bounces and you recognise the area outside even at dusk. It’s near his mom’s home. You gaze up at him questioningly. 

“Are we visiting, mum?” You wonder, he shakes his head but smiles at you calling her mum as well.

“Not exactly but the place is about eight minutes away from here.” He explains and you pass by the neighbourhood where she stays.

The car stops in front of a quaint house, with exposed brick and a little pathway lined with small solar lamps, Bucky rummages through his bag before joining you at the pathway. 

“Remember I asked you a question, a while ago?” He says as you walk upto the main door. You do a double take recalling the conversation.

“Bucky did you, did you—,” You stutter, the key turns and he opens the door, letting you enter first.

He finds the main fuse box, the house lights up. 

You gasp at the layout, its more so empty but the back windows are large and give a beautiful view of the back yard. The wooden flooring expands across the large floor and there is a short staircase leading up. 

You turn to Bucky, tears brimming in your eyes at what this implies for the two of you. 

“I, I had spotted this on the market, at first I was going to rent it out, but something about it made me extremely selfish,” He intertwines your hands leading you towards where the kitchen is, it’s almost exactly as you had described to him.

You reach out to touch the countertops, hand running over the stone. The windows here also provide a view of the yard.

“I want a future with you.” Bucky tells you, you look up at him. “i’m not saying today, right this minute, but I see us in home as this, surrounded by kids making a mess of the kitchen, us waking up in turns to change diapers, driving you around, having firsts with you in our home. A life with you. I want it, wherever you want to stay I will give you the future you deserve.” His eyes are brimming with tears, you reach up to wipe the ones escaped with your lips, then you pull him in for a kiss. Searing with your love for him, salt mixes into the kiss.

Bucky grins lifting you to the counter, your legs wrap around his waist. He has his answer. He knows he has a future with you. He thinks to the small box tucked away in his sock drawer at his mother’s house. 

“Thank you.” You mumble out, hugging him tightly. You can see it too, anywhere in the world with him, but right here you could make this house a home together. Warm scents filling the home, soft corners full of memories. A backyard full of giggles and mirth, Alpine claiming the spot that would be warm. 

Bucky and you growing old together. 

Two Months Later.

You giggle for the umpteenth time Bucky huffs, lugging his suitcase into the boot of Steve’s car. He gives you a glare as you stick your tongue out at him, your much lighter suitcase having zero effort needed.

“Remind me again why my suitcase is heavier?” He grumbles and Winnie rolls her eyes at his childishness.

“Because I have a closet of clothes waiting for me.” You remind him.

“Should leave some of my clothes there too.” He mutters, going back inside to give Alpine more head scratches and snuggles.

“He’s in a mood because of the software bug.” Steve explains, he doesn’t know the details but Bucky was ranting off to him, Winnie shakes her head.

“Nothing, Y/N can’t handle.” She adds with a smile, you look away with a smile on your face.

“True. True.” Steve agrees, Sam emerges with more cookies from Winnie’s cookie jar making everyone laugh.

“Take care of yourself okay?” Winnie faces you, hand running over your head.

“I will.” You promise.

“And if he doesn’t take care of you, you call me.” She smiles, “Oh I’m going to miss you, i know it’s just three weeks but I’m so used to having you both come over so often even if you both are in Brooklyn most of the time.” She smiles again, as she pulls you into a hug.

“I’m going to miss you too. I have so much happiness when I spend time with you.” You hug her tighter, Bucky moves out of the house, his anger dispels in the slightest at the two of you hugging.

“Cookie?” Sam offers and Bucky takes it from him.

“How many did you eat?” Bucky questions relishing the taste.

“You got the last one.” Sam shrugs, some how producing another cookie out of thin air. You look at Sam, he holds out the cookie as was promised to you. 

“To think I kept beating him at UNO for this initial denial of cookies.” You shake your head, Sam grins.

“It’s good payment.” He laughs.

Bucky huffs as he walks over to Winnie, she gives him a pointed look, “I’m sorry, Ma, but you know how it is and we’re leaving—,” He quiets down when she continues the warning look.

“I know you’re passionate but you don’t have to be grumpy about it okay? You will figure it out.” She pats his cheek, “Now give your mother a hug.”  

Bucky pulls her into a hug, it reminds you of a picture they have from when he was ten, the soft smile on his face reminiscent of baby Bucky. You whip out your phone taking the picture. Sending it to Winnie knowing it will be printed and hung up somewhere in the house.

You look through your gallery, heart warming at the picture you took of her wall, in your second week of visiting her you noticed new picture frames. Upon closer inspection your heart caught in your throat. The three frames were simple white bordered, each contained a picture, one of Winnie and you and the other of Bucky and you.

The third was your favourite, it was Winnie, Rebecca, your mom of the laptop on FaceTime, Bucky and you. A small family full of laughter and love.

When you look up Winnie is in front of you, a warm smile on her face, “I love having pictures in the house, I started the tradition from my own home before marriage, always wanted to pass it down through the family. Bucky has pictures scattered but not enough, also always make digital copies as back up.” She advises. 

“I, you don’t know how much love I felt by that simple gesture. I feel, you make me feel like a part of the family.” You admit, throat tightening with emotion.

“You are family, Y/N.” Winnie reminds you, you simply hug her in response.

Bucky watches you both speak with a soft smile on his features.

“When are you doing it then?” Sam whispers and Bucky gives him a glare.

“Shut up.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“What she cannot hear me, hey Steve can you hear me?” Sam whispers.

“Loud and clear,” Steve guffaws as Sam shows him his middle finger.

“So when.” Sam demands.

“Not for a few months at least.” He says, straightening up as you walk over.

Steve and Sam exchange a look, you raise a brow at them.

“Come on love birds you have a plane to catch.” Steve adds, all of you wave at Winnie as the car pulls out of the driveway.

Sam scrolls through twitter and looks back at Bucky.

“What?” You ask on behalf of him.

“The jail where Beck is being held? It had conflicts internally, list of prisoners injured severely include his name.” Sam reads from the article, Bucky shrugs.

“He probably didn’t control his mouth.” Your boyfriend reasons, adding another shrug and Steve catches his gaze from the rearview mirror.

“Possibly, he does have a punchable face.” Sam turns back, Bucky finds your curious gaze.

“Did you…” You tilt your head, even the thought is absurd, “Lock the balcony door at the apartment?” You switch the question and Bucky nods, seemingly glad you didn’t ask further. 

What you didn’t need to know, you didn’t need to know.

The flight back home was delayed by three hours, you groaned as you plopped down on the seats near the gate. 

“I know, but you can finish up grading assignments.” Bucky suggests, taking his own laptop out, the furrow in his brow returns as he glares at the screen trying to find the answer to the stupid bug.

“What if you rewrite it? I know that is taxing but, you could know then where the issue is?” You offer, 

“I think I can figure it out.” He snaps, “Doll, I’m sorry just, this is really important…” He meets your gaze, you don’t say anything. You knew the timing of the trip became inconvenient the second the software crashed. Despite your insistence Bucky had wanted to come along. He hated the thought of being in different timezones. 

You then retrieve your own device, work did tend to stress him out but he knew when he would cross a line or say something, it wasn’t frequent but you had your fair share of angry snaps at him too. So you understood and the two of you would return to what happened and why and would sort the matter out.

Living together, adjusting after a period of distance and all the stuff you two had been through, it wasn’t easy-peasy-lemon-squeasy. Relationships took work beyond three words, gifts and sex. You both learned that during the distance and learned to apply it while being together. 

Your work finished and Bucky was still staring at the same goddamn lines. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken to you that way, he raises his gaze from the screen to you, reading a book now with your headphones in, he sighs, opening up a new page entirely and rewrites the code from scratch.

After ten minutes, he realises what was wrong. You were right, if he had just listened about an hour ago. Bucky closes his eyes, exhaling. When he looks up you aren’t in your seat. He retrieves his phone.

Doll🌸: Have gone to get coffee, bringing you one as well.

Doll🌸: You looked busy so didn’t want to disturb you. 

Bucky🌻: Thank you, I’m sorry I snapped at you. Your method worked, should have just listened to you. 

The read notification comes in but you don’t respond to him. Bucky thinks of texting you again when he spots you holding two cups and a paper bag under your arm. He grabs the bag from under your arm setting it on the hand luggage and the cup that you offer him.

“I’m sorry.” He says again, you sigh.

“It isn’t okay, but I can understand why.” You let him know.

“I know. Your method worked, in ten minutes I figured it out.” He says with a smile, you play with the edge of the cup.

“Was actually your method… When I snapped at you two weeks ago, about the essay… you said the same thing. Figured it would work.” You meet his bright blue eyes, he smiles.

“We’re too stubborn aren’t we?” he observes.

“At times yes.” you chuckle, “Oh also I got an email while in line at the coffee place.” You hold up the email as Bucky’s eyes scan the contents he grins widely.

“Congratulations, Doll!” He cheers, kissing your forehead, cheek then lips.

“I can’t believe it so I’ll begin teaching online only and the timings are adjustable as per my schedule and days available, now I just need to be able to secure a place at uni for masters.” You grin.

“i’m so proud of you, so very proud and you will get that place.” He assures you.

You smile as you sip on your coffee, the money earning was a big check mark to contribute at the apartment towards expenses, even though Bucky’s card sat heavy in your wallet scarcely used unless you were stepping out for groceries. 

“The hybrid programme would be great, you know considering everything?” You observe, Bucky nods.

“It gives you a lot of flexibility. More control.” He smiles, extremely proud. 

In the two months a lot had changed in terms of your goals and where you saw yourself. Bucky was there by your side supporting you, holding your hand through it all. 

You had decided you enjoyed tutoring for the students via your university back in your home country. This new job it was sort of an online tutoring service which expanded across various subjects, they were based in Los Angeles but had tutors from all over the globe offering their expertise. 

Bucky was intermittently swamped at work, some weeks you both spent a lot of time together even after navigating your four hours of online learning and tutoring. Some weeks he would find you curled up on the couch with Alpine and his dinner in the fridge with a sweet little note. 

He was immensely proud of you and you of him. This trip was for a few things one to begin shifting your base to the US provided you got your placement, two if you didn’t Bucky would move down for you for two years and work as he did while he was there for the whole Hammer-Beck debacle.

Your mother was in favour of either solution, her word of advice? She wanted the two of you happy, wherever in the world that may be.

When you thought about it, you did see a future in either place but the working on different timings, it was awfully reminiscent of the distance. 

“Doll?” Bucky tilts your chin, “What’s going on in that sweet little mind?” 

“Thinking about the options we have… where and how to live…” You trail off, leaning into his touch.

“Well, we have time to decide that, and factor in other things you know…” Bucky shrugs, “We’ll figure it out whatever it is and however it is, also I can always just leave Stark Industries.”

“Bucky, no.”

“No, Y/N, look I’ve thought about it, living on timezones despite being together? long term, it doesn’t make sense, that was hardly any time to even understand and even then on days where things got crazy we hardly got time.” Bucky sighs, 

“I can find coding work anywhere or design apps, what I can’t find is home without you.” He rests his forehead against yours.

“Bucky… you’re planning on giving up so much… home is you, heart is you.” You close your eyes his breath fans over your face, coffee with a hint of lingering mint.

“I’m not giving up anything, I’m gaining all that I’ve wanted, needed, wished for, hell, prayed for on nights I’ve sobbed.” He reveals, your eyes meet his, azure holding so much love for you. 

“You decide, even if you want to stay back, I will stay with you.” Bucky gives you all the power, you take a deep steadying inhale. 

“We’ll wait for how things pan out, then we will make a Pros and Cons list.” You nod, then nod again. Bucky chuckles.

“As you say, Doll.” He kisses your cheek, “How is that book you’re reading?” 

“Oh, its good, morally grey guy,” you begin to explain,

“Your not-so-secret faves.” he teases,

You laugh, “You sound jealous Mr. Barnes, well he’s the CEO of a firm but when he’s pissed off he ruins lives of actual bad people.” 

Bucky chuckles, “Sounds like a catch.”

“He is,” You dreamily sigh, he huffs irked.

“Jealous baby.” You deem, taping his nose with your index finger.

“I’m not jealous.” he grumbles. 

“Well I have my very own little morally grey man, this CEO holds nothing, to my tech whiz.” You smile up at him, kissing his cheek.

He cracks a tiny smile, he did have one little more morally grey thing to do. 

“You’re it for me, James Barnes.” You tell him.

“Good because I am very selfish about what is mine.” He brushes his lips over yours, all coherent thought flies out the window when he pulls you in for a searing kiss.

Only pulling away when the boarding call. Bucky has a smug grin on his face seeing you flustered. 

“Be good and we might just have some fun on the flight.” He whispers, tugging on your earlobe as you stand in the line.

“Bucky.” You can’t identify if your voice is pleading him or telling him to behave.

“So you don’t want my fingers buries inside you under the blanket?” He tugs again, nipping at the skin of your neck. You bite your lip.

“Could make you cum so many times, Doll.” Your thighs clench at his promise, a whimper manifesting in your throat. 

“Why do you think we’re travelling first class? You can sit on my lap and cockwarm—,” 

“Good Evening. May I see your boarding pass and passport?” The ground staff breaks you out of the haze, Bucky hands over the pair of documentation. 

“Alright, good to go.” They hand back the documents and you breathe a little easier, then look up at Bucky. 

“What?” He questions innocently.

“When I cock warm you, I’m going to make sure you feel each squeeze. I’ll get myself off and you can stay hard for a while.” You warn him voice low so no one else can hear.

“Getting bratty are we?” He smirks, raising a brow.

“You started it.” You reason, he chuckles darkly. 

Your cockiness falls out the aerobridge. 

“You’re going to have to learn to control that mouth, Doll. Because the entire plane might know what I’m going to be doing to you.” He admires the way you shiver under his heated gaze, you reach the door of the plane, the steward guides you to your seats, offering drinks. 

“Savour this, once the signs are off, you’re on my lap.” He squeezes your thigh. 

Natasha tilts her head, as you sort of limp towards her, despite having the trolley for support. Bucky has a smug smile, she pieces the two dots. 

“Well, well, well, welcome to the Mile High Club.” She grins when you glare at her.

“Geez, what happened?” Nat questions, Bucky only laughs as you mutter something.

“I’ll tell you later.” You grumble.

“You had fun.” Bucky defends, with a shit-eating grin.

“Bucky the poor old lady almost fainted.” You groan at the memory. Nat just starts laughing at your misery.

“But she was okay, also she said the right thing.” He reminds you.

“What did she say?” Nat questions, as your suitcases are placed into the boot.

“With a man like that you should be sitting on him all day, I know I would.” You recount, Nat’s laughter only booms further.

“She also asked if I had a single looking to mingle grandfather.” Bucky adds laughing as well.

“Damn grandma was cool.” Nat observes, the drive is not long since it is still early in the morning. The occasional swirling of ice in Nat’s tumbler keeps you awake. Bucky sends out the messages to everyone about landing safely. 

Soon enough you all are in the familiar apartment complex, Nat updates you on the happenings at University, pretty mundane apart from a being a story of you eloping. 

“Maybe we should buy a ring.” Bucky jokes as you chuckle.

“If we eloped they might think I’m pregnant.” You look at Nat she nods in agreement.

“That can be arranged too.” Bucky adds cheekily, you lightly swat his chest.

“Oh by the way the mums wanted a catch up dinner, Bucky you’re invited too.” She says as you all enter the apartment, “Food’s in the fridge incase you guys are hungry.” Then she disappears to her room.

You crack your neck and groan, Bucky rests his chin on your shoulder as you peer into the fridge. Arm around your waist, you lean against his chest.

“Hungry?” He wonders, you shake your head.

“You?” You grab two waters, 

“Nope, just need to sleep.” Bucky says, kissing your shoulder, you enter your room, looking up at the starlights.

“I missed these.” You admit, smiling up at them.

“I’ll configure it to stay on while we sleep.” Bucky retrieves his phone, pushing you towards the bathroom to change.

When you come out, you sit at the edge of the bed, admiring the lights as Bucky goes to change, he comes out in nothing, your eyes fall to his hardening length.

“Actually I am hungry.” He says, kneeling in front of you, your fingers run through his hair. 

“Me too.” You admit, finding your clit pulsing for him.

He chuckles, tapping your hips, you stand helping him take off your PJs. Then sit at the edge of the bed, legs spread apart.

Bucky admires your flesh, kissing over your thighs, stubble brushing against the flesh, “Can’t wait for a taste, Doll.” His tongue runs circles around your clit before he sucks on it, then he traces down to your entrance, humming deeply at your taste.

You fall back, your legs over his shoulders, Bucky nibbles on your clit, your back arches, his arm encircles your thigh, palm resting over your hipbone, he pushes down, anchoring you into place.

Bucky laps at your entrance like a starving man, your moans urging him on, he is painfully hard as each plea from you goes right to his cock.

Your fingers intertwine between the web space of his, your other hand fists at the sheets as Bucky pulls cry after cry from you, alternating between circles, spelling his name, sucking and biting at the flesh, the stars above blur as you lose focus, all you can feel is him, Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.

The way your voice reverbs into his being he groans as your hips still try to chase his mouth when he pulls away in the slightest.

“Greedy girl.” He blows softly over your heated flesh, drawing a loud moan from you.

Bucky smirks, at the way you’re losing focus on everything but him, your arousal coats his chin as you gush on his tongue, he groans at your taste, lapping up every drop you give him. Your thighs shake as he kisses his way over your stomach, breasts and sternum, pushing your shirt off. His lips find yours allowing you taste him, his tip moves across your folds, marking himself with you. You whimper, nails sinking into the flesh of his back and shoulder, Bucky thrusts into you, unable to be patient.

“Fuck, B-Bucky—,” You preen.

“So fucking tight.” Bucky groans, pressing soft kisses to your jaw, “Feel so good, Doll, fuck, need you.” He mumbles, you nod in response he begins to move, hips snapping against yours, your nails dig into his back, legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him close.

You clench around him, pleasure fogs your mind, the vein of his length brushes over the sensitive spot stars further cloud your vision. Bucky shifts, kneeling on the bed having your hips rise, you moan feeling him deeper. Bucky loses himself in you, the warmth, you look so fucking beautiful this way, taking him so well, an angel under the soft light. 

“Gonna fill you up, Doll. Fuck you look so beautiful this way, so pretty under stars, you gonna cum with me doll?” He questions, his thrust deeper as he slows the thrusts down to make sure to have him imprint every inch of you.

You nod, unable to form coherent sentences, “Mark me, claim, Bucky please—,” You manage to demand, Bucky lets out a filthy groan, your orgasm drawing closer and closer.

“Want me to mark you with my cum, fill this pussy up, fill my pussy up? Have you dripping a mix of us onto these fucking gorgeous thighs? You’re gonna feel me for days Doll.” His words throw you over the edge, you cum with a sob are fiery hot pleasure sears through you. 

Bucky loses himself in the way your walls spasm, milking his cock, his lips sloppily find yours he still ruts into you, your hearts beating wildly. 

“Bucky?” you question, feeling absolutely like floating, 

“Right here, Doll, you did so good.” He praises, your little blissed out smile oh so endearing.

“Do, do you feel floaty?” You question, he chuckles, “I do baby, I’m going to pull out now okay?” he says, slowly moving away, your hands grip onto him, legs tightening. 

“Doll—,”

“Don’t—,” 

“Not, going anywhere, just want to give you some water and snuggle you.” He assures, slowly you let go of him, he pulls out the wet squelch has you preen. Bucky guides you to move further along the bed, pulling you against his chest, brushing your hair and having you take slow sips of the water. 

You nuzzle closer to him, Bucky keeps you close, the stars continue their pattern as the two of you watch quietly.

“You with me, Doll?” He asks after a while, you nod, heat creeping you skin. Slowly coming to yourself.

“Floaty?” He squeezes your side, drawing a laugh from you. 

“Nope, not floaty anymore.” You look back up at him, “I love you.”

“I love you.” He smiles, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

Slowly slumber tugs at the two of you, Bucky keeps you close as you both sink into sleep. 

The next day passes in a blur of waking in the afternoon, Bucky and you still tangled in the sheets. You admire him in the afternoon light, a soft smile graces his relaxed features and you wonder what he dreams about, Your fingers carefully trace his jaw, over his dimpled chin. His breathing alters, a low hum. Your fingertips trace over his lips.

Bucky smiles wider, eyes still closed as his lips part, as he playfully tries to bite your fingers, you laugh pulling your hand away. Bucky grabs your hand bringing your fingers back towards his mouth.

“Bucky!” You giggle, till the last second he pretends he’s going to bite them then he presses a soft kiss to each fingertip. 

“Morning Doll.” His bright blue eyes gleam with mirth.

“Morning Bucky.” You greet, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck.

“I love waking up next to you.” You tell him, feeling him smile against your skin.

“I do too. My favourite is when I dream of you and then wake up to you.” He places kisses along your shoulder.

You sigh contented, until there is knocking at your door.

“Lovebirds, come on out, decently.” Nat’s voice calls out.

“Alrighty!” You cheerily call out, reluctantly getting out of bed when you notice Bucky is in his sweatpants, you don’t remember feeling those rubbing against your skin.

“You woke up?” You wonder confused.

“Yeah, eyes opened at like eight-ish, sent out a few emails and then came back into your warmth.” he hands you your PJs.

“How did you pull away in the first place?” You wonder, teasing.

“With immense reluctance and hardship, plus the urge to pee.” He kisses your cheek, you laugh.

Bucky puts on his t-shirt, you glance at the clock almost four thirty in the afternoon. Moving out of the room, you walk into the living room.

“Thank you for finally joining the land of the living.” Your mom shakes her head, a smile on her face, you run over to hug her.

“Hi mum.” you beam, she kisses the top of your head.

You tighten your arms around her, Bucky smiles as she beckons him to join the hug. 

Her heart full to see you both safe and happy.

Hours later you’re all laughing at the table of your mom and Nat’s mother’s favourite restaurant. Bucky is sharing the anecdote of finding out you like to arrange your books by height uncaring for alphabetical order.

It is then your mother pauses from her own addition to the story, the eyes of your group turn as your father makes his way to the table, but he says nothing, anger filled eyes trained upon Bucky.

“Fix it.” He shouts at him. 

Bucky furrows his brows, “I’m sorry what?” Confusion laces his words.

“You can fix it because you stole it. You and you posse of hackers.” Your dad seethes.

“Dad, what even are you talking about?” You try to understand.

“Shut up fucking whore—,” Your dad pauses as Bucky stands towering over him.

“I suggest you keep your voice down, we’re out on a family dinner. I also suggest you ask your latest additions to your family about this and not me. I got you your invested amount back. I urge you to recollect what occurred the last time you disrespected, my girl and her mother. It can get fucking uglier, and leave a mark.” Bucky speaks tone clear, there is an eerie silence in the restaurant. The staff and customers watching quietly.

You grasp at the back of his sleeve. Bucky gives you an assuring look, taking your hand into his own and rubbing circles upon the back.

“No, my girlfriend wouldn’t dare, she loves—,” Your dad pauses as his phone rings, his face growing redder with every passing minute at what is being said on the call. 

His phone clatters to the ground, “She ran off. That whore ran off with my money all of it gone.”

Nat and you exchange a glance. Bucky sits back down, kissing your hand before placing it on his thigh. He raises his hand, “Excuse me, waiter?” 

The head waiter comes to the table, “Please set up a table for this gentleman, his meal is on me tonight.” Bucky smiles, “Oh and add a bottle of your finest whiskey for him, he’ll need it.”

“How the fuck did you know?” Your father bellows.

“I run background checks with everyone I interact, she did the same to the previous man she was involved with, I’m sorry Mr. Y/L/N, you conduct business very poorly maybe even worse than your personal life.” Bucky shrugs not really sorry. 

Bucky made sure the money was backed into off shore accounts, where as the extra marital affair woman just needed another rich man to whisk her away. 

Which is where Steve’s shady friend Nick Fury came in, currently that woman was in an unpaid for five star hotel room in anticipation to be whisked away and had a bill racking up without means to for pay it. 

Bucky takes a sip of his drink, you look at your mother who is looking at your father. Bucky’s hand finds yours again.

“Y/mum/N, I’m I was a fool for all I put you through—,” Your father begins trying to apologise to have her fall into his false promises again.

Bucky tsks, “Sir, come on, save some remaining dignity.”

Your mother laughs, Nat’s mother chuckles.

“You did this.” Your father accuses, lunging for Bucky. You grab your glass the splash of water on pauses him mid-stance.

“You fucking piece of—,” He roars at you.

“I’m recording this.” Nat warns him, he lowers his hand.

“You have no proof that I did this, you did this to yourself. You had an extra marital affair, you gave your illicit affair access to your accounts. Not me. I landed this morning, I have been working in the US, I did my part by getting you your investment amount back.” Bucky scoffs.

“Get me my money back I have apologised for what I did to these bitches.” Your father seethes.

“One, I don’t have means to ring back your stolen money and two if your sincere apologies fixed their turmoil and trauma, I’d be happy for them. Three, I don’t believe I will even bother helping you. Unfortunately, I don’t think you have any options left here.” Bucky shrugs, clearly bored.

Your dad’s anger reaches a new peak, “You fucking pathetic—, I’ll take back what I gave to these two money hungry—,” 

“How? The divorce is done, the properties were always on her name, Y/N has her old bank accounts closed down and you gave her the money out of your natural love and affection, you think I didn’t tell her to save those messages? I knew at the next inconvenience you would displace your anger. Go have your free alcohol and meal, please stop bothering us.” Bucky rolls his eyes as your father stomps out of the restaurant.

Dinner is quiet after that, 

“Well that was entertaining.” Nat’s mum comments,

“Almost as entertaining as Dad’s breakdown in court.” Natasha reminds everyone shakes their heads. 

Bucky looks over to your mum, “You sure you’re okay?” 

“I am, thank you for telling him off, I always knew she would run him to the ground.” Your mother shakes her head.

“Well at least you get to watch his ass get kicked by karma.” Nat jokes making everyone laugh. From that point dinner resumes to be how it was before the interruption.

You lean into Bucky as you wait for the Uber to come in, Nat opting to spend the night at her Mum’s allowing you two to have the place to yourselves. Your mum expected the two of you back home tomorrow bright and early.

His chin rests on your shoulder, slowly you both sway to the distant music drifting from inside the restaurant. You think over the conversation and the surety with which your father tried to accuse Bucky. 

You don’t feel bad for the man, you bite your lip.

“I’m sorry he spoke to you that way…” You feel Bucky stiffen.

“Doll, what have I said about apologising for his actions?” He demands.

“I’m not supposed to… but,”

“No, none of that. I don’t care about him, he is insignificant. All i want is for you to be okay, also I should thank you for coming to my rescue, impeccable aim.” He praises. 

“Well my boyfriend was a sniper, he taught me a few things.” You giggle as he kisses your neck, his stubble tickling you.

The Uber comes in, you both settle in for the drive back to the apartment.

As you apply your moisturiser, a question does burn at the back of your mind, you knew your father’s affair did lack the caliber to pull off a con of this magnitude. Your boyfriend observes the small furrow in your brows, he stands behind you, intently observing you in the mirror. 

Bucky kisses his way from your shoulder to your earlobe, knowing your curiosity is moving into over drive, “You did say you prefer morally grey.” he whispers.

Your eyes widen how did he know what you were thinking, “How—, You what—,”

Bucky presses his lips to your temple, “I’d burn the world down for you, Doll. You just have to ask.”

You gape at him, mind running a mile a minute, “How… why?” 

“He hurt you, I warned him.” Bucky speaks nonchalantly, “As for how, well it was a fun process.”

“That was months ago, Bucky he—,”

“He will survive, he has enough to get by just not as much as before. I had to plot everything, Doll. Took time but I figured I take his favourite thing.”

You take in his words, Bucky knows it is a risk admitting his actions, but he needed you to know. He wanted you to know he would take care of things for you, take care of you.

“Yeah, that book’s CEO has nothing on you.” You grin up at him, a part of you glad he did what he did. Bucky laughs, it echoes in the chambers of your heart. 

One Month Later.

Alpine tilts her head, blue eyes watching the red dot moves across the wall and then back. She leans back, her furry little tush shaking as the dot appears again this time moving from the bottom up. 

She leaps off of her perch bounding to the wall, her paws launch the attack and the switch flicks as her paw touches the red dot.

Bucky cheers in triumph, Alpine looks at him bewildered.

Bucky looks at you his smug smile illuminated by the lamp, “I told you so.” he gloats.

You peer at him from under the covers, “Yeah, yeah.” Your stuffy nose, prevents you from speaking clearly.

“Stupid allergy.” You grumble.

“I told you not to clean the room without a mask.” He shakes his head, despite knowing its just your nose blocked due to the dust, he checks for a fever. 

“I had a mask the stupid sting broke.” You huff, breathing through your mouth, you glare at the boxes that line the room.

“This puts us off of schedule, Bucky.” You shake your head, when he tries to reason with you.

“Doll, its okay, I know you wanted to set up, but health comes first okay? I know moving isn’t fun or anything.” He kisses your temple.

“I wanted everything nicely set up.” You sigh, turning to face him.

“Its okay though. We’ll have it set up before university starts.” He assures, you remain quiet, you wanted to set up the living room area with pictures you had framed. 

It was going to be a surprise along with tickets to the premiere of his favourite franchise’s latest movie, complete with an intimate talk scheduled with the makers and actors. Your teaching job turned out to be great, student reviews had your schedule become fuller and your salary increased that you were happy and not financially dependent on Bucky. 

When it was decided to move out of the old apartment he lived in to one which was in Brooklyn but closer to Stark Industries and Columbia. Bucky had decreed you would not be contributing to the rent, if you wanted to handle an aspect of the living situation it would be groceries, only after looking at your finances and helping you make better decisions did you realise you can manage them in a manner that left you with a good chunk of savings.

You reach for your phone, at least wanting him to be surprised by one thing.

“What is it?” Bucky questions as you hand him your phone, his eyes go over the email widening as he sits up excitedly.

“Oh my god.” He gazes at you wide eyed and happy, “how, when—,”

“Well I had savings and you were talking about it, Sam told me its there and that Steve and him got invited cause of their channel, I asked if they could get me in touch with the ticketing person—,” Your explanation is cut off as Bucky kisses you, the force of it throws you both down on the bed. You laugh into Bucky’s little grumble of ow when the phone presses into his side.

“I love you.” 

“I love you.”

You cup his cheek, sniffling lightly before he kisses you senseless again. His heart extremely contented to have you with him. 

A Month Ago.

You walked into the apartment with a solemn expression. Bucky felt his shoulders drop. His heart didn’t break, but he knew how much you were hoping to not have him be the one uprooting his life. 

You take in the little blanket fort with dinner he set up. Your warm eyes shifting to his blue. 

“Doll, it’s a celebratory dinner either way I get to stay here with you—,” His words cease on his tongue as you run towards him, his arm extended and you crash against him as he easily lifts you. It always takes you by surprise and a hint of turning you on at his strength. 

“I’m moving to New York City, so you can’t stay here.” You tell him, a wide grin and tears brimming from your eyes.

“You got in?” He reconfirms, you nod, his lips on yours.

You smile into the kiss, cupping his cheeks, holding your entire world between your hands. You desperately wanted to get into a University in New York City or somewhere close. You didn’t have much of a life here in this country, your mum was here, she had her own support system. Natasha was heading to Australia unless she got a better opportunity in USA. 

You knew your life with Bucky was there, he had helped you to learn to build something of your own and now you wanted to build a life with him. 

“I got in.” You repeat happily, Bucky places affectionate kisses all over your face. 

“I’m so so so proud of you.” He beams at you, placing you back down as your legs unwrap from his waist.

“I love you.” You tell him, still cupping his face, “I know you were ready to move, but, but my life isn’t here, not anymore, its is far away from all that held me back. With someone who helped me see my potential who taught me to harness it, you made me learn to be someone for myself Bucky. My future is with you, every step of it, from the apartment to the house we’ll make a home.” 

Bucky finds his eyes watering, blinking back tears, and his lips hurting from the wise smile on his face. He doesn’t know what to say, what to say to agree with you, because he thinks back to the small box in the pair of socks still hidden in his suitcase.

“I love you. I hope to keep being the man you need me to be.” He says instead, watching your eyes shower him with love, you hug him tightly. Pulling him into the same embrace and warmth that saved him in so many ways.

Twelve Months Later.

Bucky🌻: how did it go?

Doll🌸: i’M DONE WITH MY MASTERSS!  <GIF of Elle Woods saying we did it>

Bucky🌻: that’s my girl! i take it this exam went really good?

Doll🌸: extremely, you were right I was scared over nothing

Bucky🌻: i do tend to be right

Doll🌸: yes, yes, gloat

Bucky🌻: so we’re on for tonight right? that special live post mortem episode before Shane and Ryan go onto their own channel combined with your favourite blanket fort and blanket fort contractor?

Doll🌸: I’m so excited, it’s our first anniversary, i just feel butterflies all around me, but why are we going home? Is something wrong at the apartment? Did I leave the oven on?

Bucky winces, he knew this question would arise. He only hoped you would buy the lie.

Doll🌸: Bucky????

Bucky🌻: well you know that leaky faucet in the guest bath that drives you nuts? they had to take the tiles out and there is mould. Alpine is at Mum’s so while they work to get it out, we need to be out of their way, they’re planning to check the other rooms as well. No you did turn the oven off.

Doll🌸: did you contact the landlord? We aren’t paying this month’s rent.

Bucky laughs, shaking his head.

“She bought it?” Steve wonders and Sam cheers as Bucky nods.

Bucky🌻: I know its inconvenient-ish but the bathrooms work there and I’ve gotten the blanket fort supplies and my portable wifi.

Doll🌸: sometimes I feel you love that device more than me.

Bucky🌻: I love you two equally.

Doll🌸: You look at it as if you want to marry it 😂 one day i’ll wake up and see a diamond welded into the device.

His lips part, you’re going to re-read this conversation and really be baffled. 

Bucky🌻: Diamonds won’t suit it, they would however suit you.

Doll🌸: <insert meme of corgi dog giving a side eye glance> buttering me up won’t deny the fact you love that device.

Bucky🌻: i’m not denying nor am i confirming.

Doll🌸: on a serious note, Kate and I are going to grab a celebratory cookie, do you want any? Nat might be joining us, so I might just meet you directly at the house.

Bucky🌻: that’s alright, oh yes, a chocolate chip and red velvet one please. thats good, enjoy yourself, i’ll be waiting at the house for you.

Doll🌸: i’ll bring you two of each, you always want two but say one and then you get this little cute pout and it makes me want to kiss you. so forget the fact i’m getting two so i can kiss the pout.

Bucky🌻: just say you love kissing me

Doll🌸: i am not denying nor am i confirming 

Bucky🌻: you’re a little brat

Doll🌸: you love me

Bucky🌻: i do, i really, really do 

Bucky places his phone back in his pocket, turning to Sam and Steve who are arranging the lights across the ceiling. He is going all out, taking trinket moments from the one year of being your boyfriend and incorporating them in someway.

Tiramisu for homage to the first date, he bought in the teddy bear he won you from the carnival date, a sunflower and lily, the polaroid picture of you two meeting for the first time, the polaroid picture of both of you stuffing your faces with gyros and his favourite— the picture his mum took of the two of you during your first experience with snowfall in her backyard. 

The photos would stay hidden because the lights would be dimmed, Sam and Steve had let him borrow their vlogging camera and GoPros fully charged. None of them would be here, and he wanted to record the proposal, his palm began sweating again at the word. Kate and Nat sent him pictures of you, completely oblivious of what is to come.

He shoves away the nervous thought and moves to assist an arguing pair of Sam and Steve, over how to loop the lights effectively.

The way he set up the lights and blanket fort you can’t take your eyes off of any surface, he’s set up a small TV connected to his laptop set with the live video countdown. The little scrapbook you made of the memories fails in comparison to his set up.

Maybe Nat’s lingerie idea was good, though the stupid lace pokes you if you sit a certain way. 

“Bucky this is beautiful!” You hug him tightly, he smiles. resting his cheek on your head.

“Only the best for you.” He murmurs, placing a kiss to your forehead as you both part.

“Happy Anniversary Doll.” He strokes your cheek.

“Happy Anniversary Bucky.” You beam up at him, leaning into his touch.

He leans down, capturing your lips with his, he hums at the taste of you. Almost losing himself and wanting to take you apart right then and there.

Your wandering hands were breaking his resolve, he manages to pull away.

“In due time, first food and look, in thirty seconds they are starting!” He points to the screen. Bucky leads you to the plush mattress pushes against the wall and the blankets making a fort the lights add harmony and you just feel surrounded by Bucky and the one year you have spent together.

The plates are set up, take out boxes and cutlery in place. 

“Hey everyone, today is a special live episode from your ghoul boys.” Ryan smiles as the episode begins.

“Better not say something stupid.” Shane adds,

“You’re the one I’m worried about.” Ryan rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“Well let’s head onto gramtown then, pick a question any question!” Shane grins as they both begin scrolling.

“Damn, I forgot the drinks,” Bucky stands and moves towards the kitchen you, grab his arm.

“Hey no its okay—,”

“I feel parched, I’ll be a second.” Bucky goes to the kitchen you turn back to the screen.

“Ah, here’s one from @/mario_kart_connoisseur, they say ‘if you had to exchange places with an anomaly you’ve explored who would it be and why?’” Ryan reads, and taps his chin pondering.

“Bucky? This is a good question…” You laugh a little at Shane’s expression. 

“I hear it, I think he’ll say Mothman?” Bucky calls out, looking down at the ring in the box, taking deep breaths. 

“I’m going to say Mothman? he’s a cool, funky dude also flying would be cool? Plus his merch is badass.” Shane offers, Ryan raises a brow. 

You laugh, “You were right.” 

“Honestly I expected you to say big-foot. Or the Goatsman.” Ryan shakes his head.

“Why would I pick the latter? I already have his bridge.” Shane shakes his head to say as if, and that Ryan should keep up.

“Bucky? Do you need help?” You ask looking towards the kitchen as he comes out with a tray holding the cans, the ring box in his pocket.

“I got it, sorry,” he places it downward you take it from his hand to allow him to sit.

“Well I think I would pick Big-Foot you know? Nice wilderness, calming streams, one with the earth, people never taking a good picture of me, ya know the usual?” Ryan glares at Shane.

“Oh come on it is meme material.” Shane defends.

“Shoot, forgot the ice.” Bucky tsks quickly going to the kitchen again but this time he carefully places the camera on the floor, making sure you aren’t looking this way, where it will be able to capture the two of you, the GoPro already recording everything on the opposite end.

“And our next question is from @/b.barnes, he asks,” Shane narrows his eyes and turns his phone to Ryan, your eyes narrow confused.

“Bucky they are looking at your question?” 

“Oh? I forgot what i sent?” He calls out, from the kitchen.

“I think it is appropriate for Live.” Ryan shrugs, “Read it line by line?”

“Sure,” Shane clears his throat and you observe Bucky stand holding the ice bowl facing the screen.

“‘So my girlfriend and I actually met because of your show, she replied to a comment I had made so i want to ask you to ask her something, it would be our first anniversary,’” Shane reads, Ryan smiles taking the phone.

Your jaw is on the floor your eyes not leaving the screen.

“‘Could you please ask her to look to the left? After that I’ll do the rest. Thank you.’” Ryan looks at the camera as does Shane.

“James I hope she is looking,” Ryan seems hopeful,

“Y/N why are you looking at the screen look at James!” Shane emphasises using his hands to motion to the left.

The video cuts off and the starlights brighten, you look at Bucky and he is down on one knee, a small velvet box open in his palm. Your hand flies to your mouth as you scramble to stand, tears already pooling at your eyes, you blink them back.

“A year, three months and five days ago you came into my life, one small comment from you and a little bit of me trying to know if I could zoom in on the picture of your profile, you were in my dreams that night, ever since then I’ve strived to make you my reality,” Bucky’s voice cracks, eyes tearing up, “Everyday with you is beautiful, be it laughing or when we argue, I’ve seen hell, I’ve lived in hell, even when there was distance between us I found myself in heaven. I found my home in you, i have loved you with all of me,” Bucky gives you a watery smile and inhales deeply before continuing,

“I bought this ring the day I shopped with your mom for your earrings. However, I knew the day I bought you your first bouquet of flowers that one day I’d be down on one knee for you, and here I am,  so my sweet, sweet Doll, will you give me the absolute honour of being your husband? Will you marry me, Y/N Y/L/N?”

You can’t stop the tears, as you cross the short distance, kneeling in front of him. You wipe at his tears, they keep coming as do yours, your heart hammering so loud you wonder if Bucky can hear it.

Bucky gulps, his heart in his throat, then you smile, nod, and whisper, “Yes,”

“Yes,” You say louder, “A thousand times yes.” Your arms wrap around his neck, his moves around your waist, as your lips meet his, the kiss is soft so reminiscent of your first one shared. 

Bucky pulls away, slowly. 

“Hold the box? Wanna do this right.” He requests, as you hold the box in your right hand, he retrieves the ring from its place and you offer your left hand. The ring moves into place, fitting perfectly, the diamonds reflecting the starlights. 

Bucky takes your hand in his, placing a kiss to your palm and over your knuckles. He looks up at you a giddy, ecstatic grin on his features, you can’t help but mimic it.

“I love you.” you say, leaning towards him, your ring glad hand on his chest.

“I love you.” he says, leaning in, as your lips meet once again.

A.N: i honestly, it has not hit me that this fic is over, maybe after a day or two it will, i want to thank all of you for reading and coming along the journey of doll and bucky over these fifteen chapters. thank you for your sweet comments, reblogs and love, thank you for giving my fic a chance to be with you, to maybe provide comfort, provide a distraction or anything that this fic was or is for you.

i want to remind you that i will be open to writing more for this pairing more so one shots or drabbles about different moments, you can send in requests and i may come up with a few concepts but it will be a while before i post anything, i do have another bucky fic lined up might post about it in a week? idk.

A big hug from me and forehead kisses to all of you, thank you for everything you have provided to me by showing my story so much of love and care, i am so thankful.

big big big hugs and kisses on the forehead, happy vibes to my entire taglist!

permanent tags: @stevesmewmew @pandaxnienke

fic taglist: @harry03bb @et-homephone @sebsgirl71479 @blackwidownat2814 @littleone2223 @elbell20-blog @lexhalstead3

@lissettacevedo14 @simpingfortoomanypeople @ebonyhogan24

@sammyisfat @juulle987 @elle14-blog1 @bye-moonchild @salenorona23 @slutforsexyseabass

[kokomochi]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃 | 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮

"𝙞 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙮 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚."

SOULMATE AU! BONTEN TIMELINE! they say that soulmates were typically connected through the red string of fate- some believe that they are connected through tattoos appearing on their skin, or even a timer on their wrist. in this story, however, is through glowing hair. bonten's executive, haruchiyo sanzu, never thought that he would be soulmates with the youngest sibling of the notorious haitani brothers.

07. protective

it's known to many how loyal sanzu haruchiyo can be, and how quick he is to stab you in the back as well if you defy his master- sano manjiro.

so it shouldn't be a problem to see him be loyal to his soulmate, haitani y/n. but you know what they say- old habits die hard.

however, the moment sanzu stepped into the club along with kokonoi hajime to grab a quick drink, he immediately started to shoo away many women who tried to approach him.

as cunning and psychopathic he may seem to others, his loyalty shouldn't be questioned.

despite meeting y/n just two days ago, he had the feeling of needing to protect her from any harm that may cross her path- that means from him as well.

"it's weird to see how quickly you can change." koko muttered as they sat at their usual table, just without the women flocking over them.

sanzu just hummed as he continued waving off any possible suitors.

"what made you say so?" he said nonchalantly, twirling the cup of rum in front of him.

unbeknownst to the two, the group of women that sanzu had shooed off were having their own conversation.

"have you noticed that strand in his head? it has become completely vibrant!" one of them said, glaring at the (h/c) lock that was mixed in with his strawberry ones.

"who might this stupid wench think she is?! stealing our dear haru away from us!"

kokonoi overheard the table- i mean who wouldn't, they were just two tables away from them. and they were bad at whispering.

his black eyes went over to the man of the topic, who was still busy twirling his drink as he stared at it with a blank look.

"i bet his soulmate is a whore!"

"that's too low for our dear-"

a cock of a gun was heard, making them look up to sanzu, who had a pissed-off look from his face, different from the ones he usually had when he was out killing.

his blue eyes glared at them, making the women huddle together as fear enveloped the five of them.

one was brave enough to try and have a conversation with him, clearing her throat as she mustered up a very convincing innocent look.

"s-sanzu we were just-" all four women screamed when their friend was shot in the head.

kokonoi was just watching the scene as he continued drinking his shots, slightly bothered about the mess that his friend created.

"you were comparing my dear soulmate to the likes of you, weren't you?" he said, words cold as ice.

"you were trying to group her with you whores- someone who sleeps around for money and drugs." sanzu cocked the gun again, aiming it at the girl closest to him.

he waved the firearm in front of the three, before sighing and dropping his arm to his sides. his actions caused koko to raise his brows at him, wondering what his next move was.

"i regret to inform you whores that i already have met my soulmate." he dramatically dropped beside them, pushing the corpse off the couch as the three women looked at him with unease.

"we haven't known each other for too long but, one thing is for sure-" he raised his gun again and shoot the woman next to him.

"you will never be in her league." with that, sanzu finished off the other two, before walking back to koko who handed him a handkerchief to wipe off the blood splatter on his face.

they were fortunate that the owner of the club was actually haitani rindou, and there weren't many people inside except for sanzu's usual whores.

the bartender was quite used to this scene, having to call out his men to clean up the mess sanzu created as he served him another drink.

"you really need to keep your mess down low sanzu, we can't keep paying ran for the damage expenses." kokonoi sighed as he watched people wrap the bodies away and cleaned out the stained walls.

"it's not that much damage- we'll only be replacing the chairs that's all."

koko rolled his eyes at how careless sanzu was and let the situation be.

"anyways, now that you know y/n's your soulmate, are you planning on changing her gift?" he asked, making sanzu look up to him as he tilted his head.

the strawberry-haired male paused for a moment, then nodded.

"i already bought stuff." he replied.

"what is it?"

"a ring." koko's eyes went wide at the mention of the jewelry, slamming his hand on the table as sanzu kept looking at him blankly.

"don't you think you're going too fast?!"

the male hummed in confusion.

"she's my soulmate, is she not? we're bound to get marry someday so why not now?"

"yeah but normally-!"

sanzu cut the male off by putting a finger on his lips, shutting him up.

"that's the problem, koko. we're far from normal. i'm a wanted man with many on my head- she's a woman who's related to one of the most dangerous siblings out there."

"if you look at it that way, we barely have time. now that she's got a soulmate who's also dangerous, she'll become a prime target. who knows what could happen."

this was the first time that kokonoi hajime has seen the sanzu haruchiyo so serious. maybe the alcohol was taking effect- which is definitely most unlikely since sanzu was known for having a good tolerance to alcohol.

"before i die or something- i at least want to marry the woman the world has given me."

koko was quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in before finally speaking up.

"i understand, but when are you planning on proposing?"

sanzu grinned at the male and looped his arm around his shoulder, bringing him close and telling him about his plan.

when sanzu was asked before what his thoughts on soulmates are, his answer was always the same.

"they're a waste of time and money."

but now that he has met his, he wouldn't be against spending his last dime to make y/n happy.

TAGLIST: @minnieminnie00-got7 @lonnie19 @royal-shinigami

[whitesparrows97]

A Thousand Springs – Part 30

Pairing: BTS x Reader/OT7 x Reader

Warnings: Little bit of angst, swearing

Genre: Soulmate AU, fluff, smut, angst, fantasy

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Summary: Life is short. Eternity is long. Why you in particular are approached by a super attractive man in a club, you did not understand. You understood even less why he wanted to kill you. Fortunately, seven young, also incredibly handsome men show up to help you with this little problem. Purely by coincidence, of course. Or do you really believe in fate?

Word Count: 5.7K

Previous / Next

(picture credit: photograph by Mok Jung Wook for TIME Magazine)

Tick. Tock.

Tick. Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

That was the only sound you heard in the spacious bedroom – and you were about to throw the small analog clock that stood next to you on the nightstand out the window. 

If only the window wasn’t locked and you had no way to open it, except for a tiny gap to at least let a little fresh air into the stuffy room. You were sure that it was multi-paned and it wouldn’t break even if you threw the chair or the small dining table that stood in the middle of the room against it. 

You had actually tried it, but the only thing that had happened was that the metal of the chair leg had bent slightly. That and the unspeakable noise you had made that still left your ears ringing. 

A glance at the annoying clock told you that you hadn’t moved from the spot in three hours. 

After your conversation with David, you had asked to have time alone, and surprisingly, he hadn’t objected. Two men had brought you to this room and after you had briefly looked around for a way to escape – there was none – and had vented your anger at the window, you had lowered yourself onto the edge of the bed. 

On which you were still sitting now. 

You had no strength to get up or lie down. Your eyes hurt, but you could no longer cry. You were at your limit for the day. And instead of the deep sadness and disbelief that had flowed through you in the first moment at David’s words, you only felt empty now. 

As if in slow motion, you turned your gaze to the side until it eventually landed unfocused on the door to the bathroom. When you were led into the room, you had looked in there to see if there was anything you could use as a weapon. 

But there was nothing, absolutely nothing. 

Unless you wanted to defend yourself against the firearms of the others with shampoo bottles and a hair dryer. 

Not even a razor had they given you. No glass container you could break and use the broken glass to defend yourself. Nothing. You were defenselessly at the mercy of the others and had to put up a good front. 

Your face contorted in pain and you tried not to cry as you fell backwards onto the bed. 

∞ ∞ ∞

You had fallen asleep.

You realized this a few hours later as you sat up slowly and with great effort. Your clothes were sticking to you. The same clothes you had been wearing all day yesterday. You had been sweating all night and you grimaced as you pulled the material of your long-sleeved shirt off your sweaty skin. 

You felt disgusting. 

At first you had hoped expected that you wouldn’t be able to remember anything in the first few seconds after waking up. That you would be confused as to where exactly you were. Only to be overwhelmed by a wave of sadness a few moments later, when the memories of the previous day came back. 

But that was not the case. 

Instead, Jungkook was the first thought that popped into your head. He probably hadn’t even left you in your sleep. In the shadow of your dream, you thought you still remembered blood. The expressions on the men’s faces was something you would probably never forget. Even if you wanted to. No wonder they hated you so much. Taehyung had actually been kind with his words, compared to what you had done…

You dragged yourself to the bathroom, your bones aching from the uncomfortable position you had spent the night in. They craved hot water, but no matter how much you rubbed your skin, the nauseating feeling that surrounded you remained. 

It didn’t get any better when you opened the closet doors and saw all kinds of clothes you didn’t want to wear. Just the thought that David had picked them out – touched them – made you shudder. 

But you couldn’t slip back into your old clothes either. 

They were sweaty and dirty and, and this also sent shivers down your spine, they were no longer lying next to the bed where you had carelessly thrown them. 

Someone had put them away. 

Someone had come into your room while you were standing in the shower. This someone had also brought you your breakfast, which was lightly steaming on the small dining table. Your stomach immediately turned when you saw this. You couldn’t think about food now. 

You paced up and down the room. Where yesterday you had only been exhausted and weak, today you could not sit still. Eventually, however, you gave in when your hair was only damp instead of dripping wet and you began to freeze. You slipped into the most comfortable and baggy clothes you could find and buried yourself back under the covers in your bed. 

Your bed. 

That was not your bed. It was David’s, what he had chosen for you. Even the paintings on the walls were chosen especially for you. You tried to look at them as little as possible. It was strange how well and at the same time not at all he knew you. 

You didn’t move when you heard the key in the lock, but buried your face deeper into the pillow. Nevertheless, you had your ears open and took in every little sound behind you. 

Cautiously, footsteps approached and it took all your willpower not to flinch and continue pretending to be asleep. Maybe then David would leave you alone. 

But unlike what you expected, it wasn’t his voice that followed, but a woman’s. 

“Miss Y/L/N.”

You winced at that and wheeled around. A few feet from your bed stood a woman, dressed in black jeans and a tight red sweatshirt. You noticed the color combination right away. The men who had accompanied you to this room yesterday had worn similar clothing.

Your gaze slid down her body. She didn’t seem to be carrying a weapon, but on the other hand, she would hardly come to your room unarmed. Even if you had nothing with which to defend yourself. Or could even muster the strength to get up from that bed.

It seemed like she noticed your gaze because she smiled briefly at you. “There’s a guard outside the door.”

She didn’t need to say more, you knew what that meant. As soon as she made a sound, the guard – probably armed – would come to your room.

“Please, you have to eat something. This is an order from Mr. Woo.”

You tried not to roll your eyes and defiantly cross your arms in front of your chest like a child. “I’m not hungry.”

“Would you like to eat with Mr. Woo? I can go get him if you want–”

“No!” you interrupted her, shaking your head vehemently.

The corners of her mouth twitched up suspiciously when she heard your expansive reply. “Then I would ask you to eat the lunch I just brought you.”

Bitch. 

You threw knives at her back with your gaze as she slowly moved away from the bed and finally left the room. 

∞ ∞ ∞

It was in the morning of the next day that the man first came into your room. You had again expected the woman who had brought you your lunch and eventually your dinner, but in her place a man, about in his late thirties, knocked on the door before entering the room. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” he greeted you and gave you a curt bow. 

You were still sitting – or sitting again – in the bed. There wasn’t much else to do within the few square meters. You eyed the man and weren’t quite sure, but you believed he had been the one who had pulled you out of the car yesterday and brought you to David. 

You did not greet him. 

He rose and looked at you with a serious expression. He took a few steps toward you and finally stopped just short of the bed, clasping his hands behind his back. 

“Are you settled in so far?”

You snorted in reply and averted your eyes. 

“Okay,” he replied long-drawn out and seemed to consider for a moment. As if he hadn’t expected that answer. Idiot. “Mr. Woo wants to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to see him.” Your voice sounded rough because you hadn’t used it in almost 24 hours. 

“He will understand that.”

Oh, really? Somehow you could hardly imagine that. David and understanding, those were two words that couldn’t stand together in the same sentence. 

“He sent word that as of tomorrow–”

“I don’t care,” you interrupted him harshly and your head snapped up to him. He must have seen something in your gaze, because instead of starting again, he closed his mouth and nodded. “Is that all? Then I wish to be alone.”

“As you wish. Miss Y/L/N.”

And with those words, he bowed again before leaving the room. For the next few days, you didn’t see him again.

∞ ∞ ∞

Finally, on the fifth day, you had made a decision. 

There were two knocks on your door, but unlike the last few days, you were already awake and had been waiting for the middle-aged man. He, on the other hand, seemed surprised to see you standing in the middle of the room, curtains already drawn to let in the early morning light and dressed ready to go. 

“Oh, Miss Y/L/N.” He hesitated for a moment before stepping into the room, the woman following him with the serving trolley. Dishes clinked on it until she pushed it to the one-person table. 

“I want to talk to him.” 

The man raised an eyebrow questioningly and smiled kindly at you. “Who, Miss?”

“David.”

You didn’t feel like playing games, and you were sure the man knew exactly who you were talking about. You didn’t know anyone else in this damn mansion, who else would you want to talk to?

The woman exchanged a quick glance back and forth between the two of you before bowing and taking her leave, leaving you alone with the man. You still didn’t know his name; or any of the others’ names. The man took a step back and clasped his hands behind his back. “I regret that this is not possible at this time, M’am.”

“Why not?” You took a few steps toward the man and saw his arm twitch. A small movement, but you had noticed it and you knew exactly which way his arm had moved. For a split second, your eyes slid to the gun strapped in his holster.

Two meters in front of him you stopped. 

“I think I didn’t make myself clear, sir,” the word dripped with venom as you said it, “I don’t care what your instructions are… Tell David I want to talk to him. Today.”

The man nodded. “I understand that, M’am, but Mr. Woo is out of the country at the moment.”

“Out of the country?” Your voice sounded hysterical and an octave too high. “Where is he? I thought he was at the mansion?”

That would at least explain why you hadn’t caught sight of him for the past few days. Not that you would have wanted to before today. But David usually didn’t care about your opinion anyway. 

The man sighed and was silent for a moment while he considered. Probably how much he was allowed to tell you. 

“You’d better discuss that with him.”

And without another word, he bowed briefly before turning on his heel and walking out of the room. With a soft click, the door fell shut behind him before you heard the now all too familiar sound of the key in the lock. 

You stood speechless on the spot for another moment before your eyes fell to the small dining table. Reluctantly, you walked over to the table and dropped into the chair in front of it. Your gaze slid over the numerous options of fruit, pancakes, scrambled eggs, toast, and cereal. But your attention lingered on one item and your heart began to race. 

It had taken five days for them to make a mistake. 

Five days since you first felt some hope. Something other than sheer hopelessness. 

You wondered if anyone would notice when the dishes were picked up and the fork was missing. Still, you took the risk because you had no other choice. You hurried to eat and then hid the fork in your nightstand. 

∞ ∞ ∞

They hadn’t noticed. Or they hadn’t let on. Maybe it was all a trap to lull you into a sense of security. Or a test to see how much you listened to them… and if they would ever let you out of the room again. 

Because you still hadn’t been allowed to leave it even once. 

In the meantime, you had lost your sense of time. You had stopped counting after nine days, and now you didn’t know how many days ago that was. It could have been the day before yesterday, but maybe it had been over a week. 

You took so many naps in between because there wasn’t much else to do in the room that sometimes you would wake up in the middle of the day and not know if you had only slept a few minutes or had missed the night. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have taken the battery out of the clock, but its ticking had almost driven you crazy. By now you almost missed the sound, because now you heard nothing at all. It was dead quiet in the villa and except for the three times someone brought you food, you had no social contact.  

But you couldn’t call that social contact either. 

Most of the time the young woman came and she didn’t even really look at you, she just wordlessly put the food down for you. And the man with whom you had had your nice conversation about David, you had not seen again since then. 

You knew, however, that someone was standing guard outside your door. 

Twice a day you heard muffled footsteps and low muttering, a shift change as you suspected. But you had no way to check, because the door was always neatly locked anyway. 

You hated it here.

And you hated David.

With each passing day this hatred grew, even though you hardly thought it possible. And you missed the others… you didn’t want to admit it to yourself – and maybe that was the real reason you had stopped counting the days – but with each passing day, the hope that they were looking for you faded a little more. 

But maybe it was simply impossible to find you. David had so many men and had planned everything so well that it would be difficult to find the villa. You could be anywhere in the world. You wondered, if they were really looking for you, when they would give up the search. Whether they had already done it...

The sun was just starting to set when suddenly there was a knock at the door. 

You frowned. You had already eaten dinner and weren’t expecting anyone else tonight. And usually the woman came straight into the room after knocking once. Now the door was still locked.

“Come in?” you said hesitantly, and sure enough, you heard someone turn the key in the lock. The door swung open and at first you were so surprised that your mouth fell open.

David stepped into the room, his typically three-day beard was definitely older than just a few days and his hair was combed back, careless. You immediately noticed how tanned he looked. 

His gaze held yours as he closed the door behind him and the sound broke you out of your stupor. 

As if possessed, you stormed towards him and stopped breathlessly just in front of him. 

“You–How could you?”

David’s eyes widened slightly, as if surprised at your outburst. But you knew better that nothing surprised David. He had every option figured out, in every situation. 

Still, slight wrinkles of astonishment now formed on his forehead. 

“Well, that’s a stormy welcome,” he remarked, and his voice made you even angrier. As if his words were the firewood he threw into the fireplace, whereupon the flames blazed high. 

You took another step closer to him and briefly wallowed in the satisfaction as David took a small step back. 

Before you realized what you were doing, you had slammed your palm against his chest. 

“I’m sitting here locked in this room for God knows how long, and you’re going on a nice vacation for a few weeks?” You couldn’t believe it. Once again you smacked his chest. “Did you just bring me here to rot on my own? Is that your plan? Do you hope that if you just isolate me as much as you can, I’ll want to spend time with you someday?”

A smile had spread across David’s face and you lashed out, just as Hoseok had shown you all those months ago, to slap it off his face. But David’s reflexes were quick and before your fist got anywhere near him, his fingers had encircled your wrist. 

“Take a deep breath first, Y/N.” 

But you didn’t even think about it. 

You squirmed in his grip, trying everything to get your hand free. But with each passing second that you resisted, his grip grew stronger. 

“Let go of me.”

David stayed calm and got a hold of your other hand, the one you’d been trying to use to pry his fingers from your wrist. 

“Calm down, please.” David spoke calmly, quietly, and you even thought you heard a bit of alarm in his voice. It wasn’t a command as usual you realized, but a request. 

“The hell I will,” you spat back at him, now fighting his grip with your entire body. 

You seemed to surprise him with this, because as you threw yourself forcefully to the side, his fingers loosened and you managed to get free. 

Without thinking, you sprinted towards the bedside cabinet. You saw the fork lying in it before your inner eye. If you could just manage to get to it, you would shove it right in between his–

You barely made it to the end of the bed before two strong arms grabbed you from behind. You cried out – in surprise and hysteria – but David didn’t let that stop him. He held you tight and pressed you against his chest. You tried to kick behind you, but your feet only hit air and after a few times you finally gave up. 

Only now did you hear David speak. 

“Hey, shhh… Y/N, it’s all good… I’m here.” Quietly and soothingly he talked to you.

And that’s when you noticed that you were sobbing. Hot tears were running down your face and if David didn’t hold you, the hard sobs would shake you. Your hands hurt because you had clawed them tightly into David’s forearms. Whether out of disgust that he should let go of you or because you needed something to hold on to, you didn’t know. Probably a mixture of both. 

“It’s going to be okay, Y/N,” he continued to whisper in your ear. 

Seeing David again had triggered something in you, as if he had loosened the plug so that the water was now just pouring out of the barrel. The last weeks, however long it had been, you had been able to repress well what had happened. But seeing David again now reminded you painfully of your last conversation.

You didn’t know how long you stood there like that, only that your whole body ached when David finally let go of you and carefully walked you to the bed. Weakly you landed on it and your gaze was unfocused on the light marble floor in front of you. 

David kept his distance, finally, but you felt his eyes on you. You didn’t have the strength to lift your eyes, though, let alone speak. 

His clearing of his throat finally broke the awkward silence between the two of you. 

“This isn’t the best time to talk to you about this,” he began, almost hesitantly, “but we don’t have much time. Our flight leaves the day after tomorrow.”

That did make you look up. Shocked, you sought his gaze.

“Flight?” Your voice sounded weak, your throat scratched, and you grimaced at the uncomfortable feeling spreading through your throat. 

David nodded and took a step toward you. He squatted down in front of you and tried to reach for your hands, but you managed to pull them aside. They fell onto the bedspread beside your thighs. 

David sighed and lowered his own hands again. “You don’t have to pack, the others will do that. I was thinking we’d spend the day together tomorrow, then you won’t notice any of the mess.”

“How nice of you,” you muttered wryly. The shock was still running through you that you seemed to be leaving the country. “Will I at least find out where we’re going?”

“It’ll be a surprise.” David smiled at you. A disillusioned smile, as if he was happy to treat you to a short vacation. But you were sure this wouldn’t be a vacation, nor would your stay be short. 

You wondered if this would be your life from now on. Always on the run from those David hated the most. 

And from those, you loved the most. 

∞ ∞ ∞

The next morning started stressfully for you. 

You were torn from a deep, dreamless sleep, or rather shaken awake. Confused and sleepy, you opened your eyes and blinked at the bright light falling through the open windows. Someone had pulled the curtains aside so that the morning sun hit your face. 

Normally you loved the sun and the early morning hours. When a new day dawned and you could see the men again after the night; if you had slept alone at all, which had become rare in the last weeks. But for two weeks (or was it three?) you had learned to hate it. 

It meant spending another day in this prison. Along with people you couldn’t escape from. And knowing that tomorrow you would leave this mansion put a stone in your stomach. You had hoped so much to be able to set foot outside, outside of this room. But that it would be with David, and three guards walking behind you, you didn’t expect. 

Although, you did expect it, but you were hoping for something else. Namely, that the seven men would rescue you and take you back to their villa.

It was like a punch in the face and you staggered for a moment on your way to the bathroom when you realized that you had made the same mistake again. You had thought of them as seven again, even though that was no longer the case. The seven no longer existed, there were only six…

You felt sick all of a sudden and quickly rushed to the toilet and barely managed to lift the toilet seat before your dinner from yesterday came back up. Or the little that was still left of it and has not yet been digested. Hot tears ran down your cheeks as you brushed away the disgusting taste in your mouth. But the disgusting feeling inside you remained. 

“Miss Y/L/N?” you heard a woman on the other side of the bathroom door speak. “I put something out for you to wear, Mr. Woo insisted.”

You snorted disdainfully when you heard that. As if David was your mother, putting out clothes for you to wear to school like she used to do. 

You dragged yourself out of the bathroom. The day had just begun and yet you felt limp as if you had been on your feet for days. Sure enough, there was something hanging from the closet that hadn’t been there before, and with pointed fingers you lifted the red fabric of the tight dress. 

“He can’t be serious,” you muttered, taking a few steps back in disgust. 

He couldn’t be serious about you putting this on. The day could be beautiful and sunny, you wouldn’t put on a dress. David wouldn’t see you like that. Dressed up. Made up.

No. 

Instead of the dress, you put on loose pants with a t-shirt and hoodie. You looked at yourself in the mirror and checked carefully if you could see the fork you had secured in the waistband of the pants. You practiced a few times the right moves to pull out the fork as fast as you could and stabbed in front of you. On the fourth try, you got the hang of it. It left a sinking feeling in your stomach. 

A little later after your breakfast, David picked you up. He greeted you with a joyful smile, his beard neatly trimmed again and his hair styled as you knew it. 

“Good morning!” His smile faded for a brief moment when he saw what you were wearing. “Don’t you like your dress?”

“It’s not my dress,” you returned bluntly, crossing your arms in front of your chest. 

David sighed, but dropped the subject, which surprised you. Instead, he made a sweeping motion toward the door. The first time you’d left the room in weeks, if only with David and his flock of guards. But it was progress. Even if you left the mansion tomorrow and nothing you saw outside would help you to know where exactly you were, it was better than sitting in that room staring at the four walls. 

“Where are we going?” you asked as you walked down the stairs. 

David laughed softly behind you and you saw out of the corner of your eye how he held his arm out behind you. Like he was making sure you didn’t fall. Or that you didn’t run away, a soft voice whispered inside you.

“We’re going for a walk outside, get some fresh air.”

You laughed coolly and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh so I can clear my head?” You turned to David angrily. That he was so deliberate, so calm, upset you. You would love to smack every smile off his face. How could anyone be so deluded?

David came to a stop in front of you. He looked at you silently for a moment before reaching out his arm and turning you back around by the waist, walking with you toward the front door. You froze. His hand was dangerously close to what you were hiding under your t-shirt and sweater. He only needed to change his position slightly and his fingers would bump against the metal. 

You ran a little faster and pushed his hand aside. Hopefully David would attribute your reaction to your hatred and disgust towards him. Even if that was true, that was the least of your worries right now. 

You didn’t know what David would do when he discovered the fork. Would he just take it away from you in disappointment and send you back to your room? Lock you in there until tomorrow? Or would he get angry? You don’t think you’ve ever seen him angry toward you. Annoyed, yes, but never truly angry.

Except that one time when he’d lost control of that woman at the mall and she’d attacked you. But that hadn’t been him directly either. And if you were to believe him and he really hadn’t choked you… You shook your head, unconsciously reaching for your neck. You couldn’t let David do that to you. That he was getting inside your head, so that you no longer knew what was reality and what was just manipulation by David. What else was in your mind that David had tampered with? Could you even trust yourself anymore?

You were sure that the men no longer did. The fact that they still hadn’t found you proved that they didn’t want to have anything more to do with you. And you couldn’t blame them. You hardly managed to look at yourself in the mirror. The incomprehension and hatred was too great, against you and especially against David. 

David had manipulated you. And he had done it thanks to Chin Ho and your trust in him. You were not really to blame, you knew that. But still you felt guilty. It only showed again how you couldn’t stand up to someone like David. 

The thought came to you and unnoticeable you reached for the metal in your waistband to check if it was still in place. David was fast and strong, and he had centuries of experience in fighting and self-defense. It was clear to you that the only way you would be able to fight him was by surprise. 

As you stepped outside and felt the light breeze on your skin, you briefly closed your eyes. Greedily you sucked in the fresh air that lifted some of the fog in your brain and made you feel like you were able to think clearly for the first time in weeks. 

You felt the gaze on you and when you opened your eyes, you deliberately ignored David. As you walked toward the back garden, your eyes darted a few times toward the gate at the end of the driveway. It was well over two hundred meters long and at a quick count you saw twelve people patrolling. Plus the three who were walking behind you. Even if you could somehow take David down, there would still be his people. 

Take him down.

You resisted laughing at yourself. You were aware that the most you could do was hurt him. He was immortal, what would a tiny little fork do? But maybe it would be enough to hurt his eyes, so you had time to escape. The walls were high, more than twice as high as you, but if the adrenaline pumped through your veins, maybe you would manage to climb over that tree–

“Are you looking for an escape?” David snapped you out of those very thoughts. 

His observing gaze was on you, but you found no aversion in it. On the contrary, a relaxed smile was on his lips. Again the brief impulse to raise your fist ran through you. 

“I can understand that.” 

He nodded toward a bench that stood in front of a large rose bed and settled down on it. You hesitated briefly, but then lowered yourself onto it as well, with sufficient distance. From here you had a view of various shrubs and flowers, and behind them you could barely get a glimpse of the facade of the back house. When you turned around you noticed that the guards had disappeared from your field of vision. But behind all the plants it was difficult to see where they were. One thing was for sure though, they probably weren’t far. 

“You probably feel like a prisoner,” David snapped you out of your thoughts again. You hadn’t even noticed how your gaze quickly scanned the surroundings again, slightly panicked. Hurriedly, your gaze slid back to David. “I know what that feels like.”

You snorted. “You don’t know anything, stop telling me that over and over.”

David leaned forward on the bench and instinctively you held your breath.

“But I know how you feel. Always have known.”

“Then why are you doing this when you know how it feels?”

David was silent, only averting his gaze after a few seconds and instead letting it roam over the green space in front of you. 

“We’re the same,” he finally said, with a tone that left no room for interpretation or contradiction. “Like two sides of the same coin.”

“That would be nice. At least then I’d never have to see your face again.”

David gave you a brief, cold look. “Don’t make me angry, Y/N. You don’t want to experience that.”

Challengingly, you leaned forward and raised an eyebrow. “And what if I do want to see that? What do you do then?”

“Y/N–”

His answer was interrupted by a loud bang. Not only you, but also David flinched hard. Immediately your head snapped in the direction of the driveway. 

David jumped up after a brief moment of being frozen and the three men who had accompanied you came out from behind one of the bushes.

“What the hell happened?” David’s voice sounded harsh, clipped, and he had pulled his shoulders up slightly tense. 

“Someone blew up the gate to the property,” came the matter-of-fact reply from one of the men. You saw how he no longer carried his rifle relaxed in front of his body, but held it firmly in both hands. Ready to shoot at any time. 

David cursed. “Someone? Or them?”

None of the other men answered. Or dared to answer. You saw them shoot fleeting glances at each other. But that was enough of an answer for David. 

He wheeled around to you and for a very brief moment you saw sheer panic in his eyes. Then he had regained his composure, hiding his emotions behind a mask of cool calculation. 

He turned back to the three men, who looked uncertainly back and forth between the two of you as they waited for David’s instructions. 

“You come with me,” David ordered, looking at one of the men, “you two stay with her. No matter what happens… her safety is your first priority, understand?”

The two men who were to come with you hesitated. 

“Do you understand?” asked David again. One of the two men nodded hesitantly.

David clicked his tongue before stepping forward so that he was standing just an arm’s length away from the group. 

“I said,” he began, and your arm hairs stood up at his voice. 

You knew what he was doing. It was as if the air around you was changing, shifting, and even though David wasn’t speaking to you, you noticed how your focus unintentionally adjusted to him and his voice. 

“You will keep her safe, regardless whether it costs your pathetic lives. You will do everything you can to keep them from getting their hands on her. Understood?”

This time, the answer was immediate. A simultaneous euphoric “Yes, sir” echoed through the garden. 

David cast a quick glance over his shoulder at you. “Don’t worry about it, Sweetheart,” he said with a brief, strained smile, “this won’t take long. And then we’ll be rid of the problem once and for all.”

And with those words, he and one of the other men disappeared in the direction of the villa.

Written 2019-2021. Do not copy, translate or repost without permission.

Hmm, I wonder who that might be? Also, do you like the banner? We’re nearly at the end of the story but I thought it was time to leave using gifs behind. (I’m so looking forward to editing every chapter 🤡)

As always, if you enjoy reading my stories, please leave a reblog, a comment or an ask. It means a lot to me and helps me with motivation. Thank you so much for reading! Stay safe everyone.

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Welcome To The Darkside: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 1 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series

A/N: I just posted a story I know but I’m in love with this idea right now and this is my favourite fic right now. It’s going to be a three or four part fic I think and your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Here is a piece of my heart right here.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, sort of Blood Kink I think, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 1 : Welcome to The Darkside

The gunshots around you frightened you more than anything in your life ever had. The merry, joyful ambience of the carnival was ruined in an instant. Screams around you provoked your panic-stricken form to gather your wits and run or hide. It wasn’t just you caught up in this dreadful situation, there was also someone you’d protect at any cost.

Picking your daughter up and setting her on your hip, you looked around for the way out. Who would have thought that open grounds were hard to get out of? Another wave of terror ran through you when the gunshots audibly neared and the crowd ran in random directions.

You decided to go along the way you recognised the games and shops at. You ran as fast as you could, checking on Grace in between to find her looking curiously all around but still more intent on eating her cotton candy than inspecting. You couldn’t be more thankful for kids' oblivion than at that moment in time.

A bomb explosion up ahead in your path made you halt in your tracks because you knew some of the attackers were scouting there. Turning back wasn’t an option, neither was crying and you were sure you closer to the exit this way. Another blast behind you took away the option of you retracing your path. You weren’t considering it but it gave you little comfort to have your options open.

As the shrieks and screeches grew tenfold, your best bet was to hide, the assaulters had already surrounded the field, the chaos around you informed you. Jumping through innumerable dead bodies, of kids and adults that ached your heart, and dodging bullets while laying low, you went inside a photo booth to hide.

This will not be in vain; you’d protect Grace no matter what.

The curtain to the photo booth provided cover from predatory eyes while the rest of the metal booth was quite safe against bullets you concluded hopefully.

You were just looking for a weapon to prepare for any adversity that might come your way, when the sound of crunching of pebbles made their way to your ears.

Failing to find a weapon in few seconds you opted to attack the intruder yourself when a voice reached your ears, “Mama?”

You puzzled your eyebrows and lowered your defences by just a bit when a toddler stumbled inside the booth, blonde haired and blue eyed. You were definitely not this girl’s mama but you grabbed the kid’s forearm and pulled her inside, shushing her gently and seating her beside Grace on the sitting bench inside. You were thankful Grace entertained her by offering her the pink cloud of sweetness.

You peeked outside but failed to find anyone else in 20 metre radii of you, nobody resembling the wandering kid nor looking for one. You did not know what you would do with another kid in your hands in this dire situation nor was it a wise decision to bring her inside and take her under your wing but you did not have it in you to leave an unsuspecting child, a mere four or three-year-old at that, during a calamity so extreme.

Your maternal instincts governed your thought process, imagining Grace to be in her shoes, all alone and discarded while a possible terrorist attack was happening. The kids’ corpses lying outside gave you no doubt that these children’s fate would be the same if found by the attackers.

A small tug in your dress made you look back and you found the azure eyed kid at your feet, offering you the street food you bought earlier while hugging your leg and observing you. Grace munched in the back silently, still happily eating and unaware.

You kneeled and whispered, “What’s your name, honey?” Maybe the girl understood the urgency, maybe she was just mimicking you but even she murmured in a low voice, “Sarah.”

You nodded, “Sweetie, I need you to sit there quietly and make no sounds, okay? We are playing a staying quiet game.” That was a stupid thing to ask of a kid but you hoped, you really, really hoped she would comply.

Her eyes widened in recognition of something as she eagerly asked, still in a hushed mumble, “Like I does for Dada in meekings?”

“Yes, you smart kiddo. Exactly that.” You replied with what you hoped was a convincing smile and ruffled her hair while nudging her towards her former seat. With kids, you knew a little encouragement went a long way to get them to do things. She whispered an ‘okay Mama’ and went about and sat.

You didn’t get to enjoy her obedience as the thud of pebbles crunching met your ears again. Your breath hitched; your intuition told you that this was not another kid confusing you for its parent.

Your eyes found a discarded piece of metal rod from the booth’s wrecked framework. You grabbed and hoped for the best, to save both the kids at your ability’s mercy.

Steve only saw red. The moment the first shot sounded in the air, he knew whom the assailants were, whom they were coming for. Going out tonight was a bad idea, a really reckless one indeed but when his daughter started bawling seeing the carnival’s lights from the car and wanted to get up and close, he couldn’t say no. He really tried to though, he really did.

It hadn’t been even a year since his wife died, but the father-daughter duo was getting by. He knew his wife took his daughter to the carnival and bought her things, toys and teddies, on every birthday of her own. It was a ritual his wife started, spending her birthday with her little offspring during the daylight and going out for a romantic dinner at the end of the day with her dear spouse. If only things could still be that way, could still stay the same.

When his wife turned out to be an elaborate spy all along, he was baffled. His professional side was, dare he say, impressed by the commitment to character but his personal side was beyond disappointed, disheartened in the worst way because his daughter was his most precious asset in this cruel world and that gift was given by such a treacherous person.

She begged and pled for mercy, to let Sarah have her mother and swore on her life that she quit her espionage journey when she actually fell in love but Steve didn’t trust a single syllable out of her filthy, deceiving mouth, not anymore.

He didn’t kill her though, because Sarah was his first priority no matter what. Her assassination was the work of his rival mob, ‘The Vice Kings’ led by the bastard Rumlow. It was an open invitation for war in the city, for them money came first and useless people had to die. They killed two birds with a single stone, git rid of a useless former member and successfully made a statement.

Then began the still happening rivalry between those Vices and his mob, ‘The Avenging Cartel’. The wound from his wife’s assassination was still fresh, he didn’t miss her as much as he had taken the hit to his pride. There had been a peaceful agreement until the brutal maiming of his spouse and now he was working more than ever, barely able to make time for his princess and that was his only regret, missing her childhood.

And now he felt more futile, his palette of emotions ranging from hues of ire to shades of dread. He couldn’t believe his entourage of trained professionals failed to monitor a two-year-old. He had just stepped aside to take a call, leaving her with his latest driver and three bodyguards. How could he be that clueless to not realise the imposters infiltrating his ranks, standing right there and selling away his location?

As soon as the sound of the first firearm shooting reached his ears, he leapt towards his daughter only to find her missing. His little minx thankfully escaped for one of her little adventures and successfully evaded these cheats, whom he shot right in the middle of the eyes when he glanced at the grenades packing in the coats’ undersides.

His moment of gratitude evaporated in mere seconds as he realised that the Vices now surrounded the entire area, their mission being his daughter’s abduction. If they wanted to kill both of them, they would have already, considering Steve’s distraction gave them quite too many openings. They wanted him to surrender, because mobs worked that way; only when one leader signed off his territories did it become the other party’s possession. If they just cut one head, another would grow in its place, a new leader would succeed the predecessor.

He sent emergency signals to both Barnes and Wilson, the only ones he could trust right now, summoning them with back-ups. The screams of the crowd did not ease him at all, piling on his burden and stress as he prayed for the first time ever, that by some miracle he would reach his daughter first in this field and she would safely be in his arms by the end of the night, not become a victim to what his enemies were planning.

He did have a tracker in her pendant but this realisation hit him later than he’d like to admit, the frustration clawing away his wits. The ground was now quite empty, piles of bodies scattered across the field abruptly where people became victims to the grenades, any person who failed to protect themselves, died. As he was pulling his phone out again, his eyes caught sight a flower bead. The same bead he and his daughter used to make a bracelet a month ago. She wore that everywhere, to day-care, while bathing, to birthdays.

The bracelet was obviously broken now but it was almost like a trail that led to his treasure, like in the Hansel and Gretel’s fairy-tale that Sarah loved. He followed with quiet steps, the beads far apart and some resting under the debris but they sure did lead him somewhere, and when he found the even the pendant in his path, he knew he had only the few beads to rely on.

Some thumps and crashes made him alert, his pistol ready, and when he neared carefully to a distorted metal framework of sorts, his eyes widened.

A young woman had a body in front of her lying on the ground. In a pool of scarlet it rested, still and unmoving while her breathing quickened, her eyes shining with tears that she tried too damn hard to confine to her eyes. He knew how hard the first kill always was, but one grows numb with increase in body count.

Brave women were his type and he would have been turned on by her courage, her hands stained red with whatever weapon she attacked with. Her soft facial features and her curves in the dress she wore were a show stopper for sure, and he would’ve been flirting with her if it was not for the brutal severity of the situation, his daughter missing and in possible danger.

His vigilant senses, courtesy of the epinephrin, picked up two things; the butterfly bead that rested in the door of the booth the woman stood at and the creep shadowing her from behind, ready to attack with a baseball bat he might have found in one of the other game shops.

Steve used his position behind the neighbouring booth to make a bull’s eye shot, the bullet going just an inch above the female’s shoulder and going across the creep’s head. The logo on the corpse’s leather jacket showed Steve he picked the right side to defend.

The sheer suddenness of the move caught the woman off guard as she dropped her weapon and twisted back to find the soulless eyes of her possible attacker staring at her. She quickly armed herself with her attacking rod once again and tried to trace the bullet back from its shooter, her eyes wide and calculating.

Steve decided it was time to interrogate, to find Sarah.

The graze of the bullet above your shoulder alarmed you and you stood dumbfounded only for an instant though. You were sure the bullet was meant for you but the thud of a body behind you, seemingly preparing to attack you proved you wrong.

Calming yourself, you still stood on the ball, because someone killing your attacker didn’t necessarily mean you were safe. With just a pull of the trigger, your fate could very easily be the same. You had to play this smart.

“Lower your weapon. I won’t repeat myself.” A husky voice called out, laced with seriousness which left no room for argument.

You did as he said, knowing that shabby rod was no match against the gun. He stepped out from his hiding position and gave away his location, steps slightly treading towards you. Your hands trembled, heart thumping a bit too loud while blood and sweat coated your frame.

When moonlight lightened his face, you saw his blonde luscious locks, slightly overgrown, a neatly trimmed beard darker than his hair and the cerulean blue eyes that were clear as crystal but shadowed with proficiency.

“Good, now did you see a kid around here? Blonde and blue eyes?”

His question didn’t surprise you, the gun barrel trained on you did. The previous man you had killed, that laid dead ahead of you had asked the same question. You did not know why they were after the toddler nor did you have the time to dwell on it. Time was of the essence now and he was expecting an answer.

The fact that he saved an unsuspecting lady was a plus point, but you also had to consider that he was threatening you all the same. But if that was his kid, it was understood, the resemblance between them was uncanny but that wasn’t enough proof. However, as your flickered to the man you killed, you noticed the logo on his jacket was the same as the one on your possible murderer’s jacket. It still wasn’t enough evidence but you had no choice, the man had a gun and you had two kids relying on you. At least he wasn’t on the bombing side.

“Yes, what is she to you?” You tried to be brave but you were sure he saw right through you.

“You don’t ask the questions here but this one I’ll answer. She is my daughter. Now, where is she?”  

“How do I know you’re not lying? I can’t just and her over to you!”

“Her name is Sarah; she is my carbon copy. She is wearing a pink dress with white flowers; pink crocs and her hair is in a ponytail with a white scrunchy. She had two white clips in her hair beside the ponytail. Enough proof?”

No, you could be a creepy paedophile for all I know.

You were still contemplating when he spoke again, “She’s my daughter and I know she’s in that booth beside you. I appreciate you trying to protect her I think but she’ll respond to me calling her. Sarah?”

The little toddler poked her head out, her eyes brightening in recognition and you heaved a sigh of relief involuntarily. Your maternal instinct made you anxious for kids you barely even knew. She ran towards her father shouting ‘Dada’ and jumped into his arms while he hid his gun. You almost snorted at that, tons of dead bodies surrounding you and he was worried about the gun?

He propped her up, hugging her tightly, and with what you knew now, he was scared to death and rightfully so.

Grace poked her head out and ran towards you now, hugging you from behind your legs and silently peeking at the mysterious human. You held Grace’s hand now, intertwining your fingers and felt relief after long. Even though there was no knowing that the man would help you two but you gave yourself comfort you weren’t alone here, not anymore.

Sarah turned and met your eyes again and whispered lowly, “Oops Mama, I think the games over! Sowwy!”

Steve’s eyes widened at that and you laughed at her innocence, feeling light. You played along with the kid, “It’s alright.” You didn’t want to play ‘Mommy’ anymore after that thinking it would offend her father but even, he chuckled, his laugh beautiful and boisterous.

Suddenly men dressed in black and armed with weapons ran about, skidding and crossing you to survey the area out. You shielded Grace once again but the father ahead of you didn’t even flinch. Noticing your unease, he came closer and put a hand on you arm, “I’m Steve and don’t worry, these are my men, the good guys.”

You nodded, not agreeing with his idea of good and bad but since you hoped he did acknowledge that he owed you one, you hoped none of these men would attack you. You introduced yourself and he nodded.

With Sarah on his hip, he started following one of his men and you followed along hoping to get to the exit. He even asked to drop you home but you refused, just wanting to get to the parking and put all these guns out of your kid’s sight. He tsked over his shoulder and you knew he would insist again later but for now he listened intently to the man he addressed as Buck.  

This Buck eyed you several times, not so discreetly, while Steve renounced the whole incident of some spies and whatnot. You closed your eyes, not wanting to eavesdrop and just wanting to relax but you could do neither right now. They were after Sarah; you had presumed right.

Sarah made grabby hands from over Steve’s shoulder while Grace slept soundly in your arms, maybe jealous of her. She pouted and then slowly began her lower lip began to tremble. A whine escaped her mouth as she started bawling. Steve stopped to shush her but she continued screeching, “I miss Mama!” and tried to get away from Steve and jump into your arms. Buck looked surprised while Steve’s eyes pleaded yours and you nodded and gave Grace to her and took Sarah in your arms, gently shushing her and patting her back. She drooled in the crook of your neck but that was nothing new and quietened down. You didn’t want to give Grace away but you couldn’t see another child so miserable, not when you had one of your own.

Steve and ‘Buck’ observed you, not saying anything so you broke the silence. “I’m sorry she confuses me with her mother, I hope she doesn’t get offended by this.”

“She’s no more.” Steve looked down and you cursed yourself for breaking the silence, make the situation more awkward and unbearable.

“I’m sorry.” Well that was better than joking about how Grace didn’t have a father either.

“Don’t be, she deserved what she got.” Steve mumbled and continued walking with ‘Buck’, lightly patting Grace and kissing her forehead.

The peck should have bothered you but you were too engrossed by his words to eavesdrop further or check on Grace. What did he mean she deserved it? You didn’t even want to think of the probability of him killing her. With all the soldiers that surrounded you, you suddenly realised he was capable of more than you thought and you felt stupid for feeling safe with him when you did. He was a leader of sorts, a person with unimaginable power and you had dived headfirst in the kind of things you should avoid at all costs. Even though you hadn't crossed him or weren't on his bad side, getting involved was a mistake.

You learnt this lesson the hard way soon enough.

[stressisakiller]

Hello Sunflower

Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU

Hello Sunflower Part 1

Summary: Your soul mark appears on your 18th birthday. What do you do when your father is a part of Hydra and your soul mark binds you to the Winter Soldier.

Warnings: Mentions and slight descriptions of torture, violence and brainwashing

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: 4/23 New edit: fixing some timeline issues and integrating a little of the steve x reader I’m working on. Ok guys I reread this and decided to edit it and make it longer and add more dialog. I hope that you like the changes. I plan on going back and editing the other chapters as well, but that will be between writing and posting new chapters. Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future parts. Also I originally got the idea for this after reading Wolf, Partner Gloves... by @revengingbarnes so check it out!

Series Masterlist

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You have always hated your dad. For as long as you can remember you have hated him. Every time he dragged you with him to "work" at Hydra that hatred grew. It came to a point when he decided that you would be the perfect subject for their new round of super-soldier serum testing.

So, here you are at 10, 10 years old, on this freezing metal table with a syringe in your arm screaming your head off as the serum burns through your veins. Pain. All you can think about is the pain. It feels like every single one of your nerves is on fire, and at the same time, they feel like ice. The pain blazes through you as your DNA is rewritten turning you from the child you are to the soldier that they want you to be. 

Faces come in and out of focus as the scientists look you over, studying you to see how the serum is affecting you. Your head is fuzzy, only catching every couple of words that are being spoken around you. Everything is coming into view as your eyes adjust to the lights and the new information that your DNA is sending. Flexing your hand on the table you feel pins and needles from the tip of your fingers up to your shoulder, causing you to wince. A couple of tears slip from the corner of your eyes from the overwhelming ache the is present throughout your body.

A voice drifts in through the door. A voice that you know all too well, your father. 

"She survived?" You have never noticed how sinister his voice sounds before.

"Yes sir, and it seems like the serum took, we aren't sure how exactly it has altered her yet." The other voice is weaker, trembling, scared of the man in front of it.

"Begin testing on her then, we need to know before we begin training her." 

"Yes sir." 

One set of footsteps retreats down the hallway while the other comes closer. You look towards the door, waiting to face the man that is about to walk in. You make sure your face is blank when the door opens, you don't want him to know you heard the whole conversation.

A slight sniveling man steps through the door and you immediately decide that you hate him. He walks over to you and undoes the straps on your arms and legs.

"Come little soldier, it's time to find out what you can do." He orders, his voice is a little stronger now that he isn't facing your father. He leads you down a maze of hallways, your bare feet make no noise as you follow after him. 

Entering a different room you are met with the site of another metal table as well as a two-way glass mirror, a treadmill, and a large set of weights. The man points you to the treadmill and the tests begin. They force you to run, full sprint until your body shuts down and you fall to the floor, flying off the belt as soon as you hit. When you come back to consciousness they force you to lift more and more weight until you feel your arm muscles give out. The weights come crashing down on you breaking multiple ribs. You are given a day to heal before they begin shocking and beating you to figure out what your pain tolerance is, before cutting you in different places at different depths to discover how quickly you heal.

You aren't sure how many days have passed before you are thrown into your new "bedroom" to rest and heal. A meal of bread, milk, and some sort of meat substitute is all they give you to eat. With every test and beating your hatred for Hydra and the man who called himself your father grows. You haven't seen your father at all during the testing but you know that he has been standing behind that stupid mirror and watching as you are put through every test that the scientists could think of. As soon as he had taken you to be injected, you had decided that this man was no father of yours. No real father would willingly subjugate their child to this torture and watch as it happens. 

You are given no rest before they begin to train you, throwing you into a ring with the other assets, teaching you how to shoot every type of firearm imaginable. You are taught how to throw knives and how to use poison, how to kill a man without leaving a trace and how to evade arrest. They make you into their perfect little child soldier, and you despise them for it. 

Your memories from that point on are disjointed, you know that there is a machine that they would force you into, you can remember the pain, but not much else. Then there are these words, six of them. The scientists say them and you lose all control of your own body. But then they take you back to that other machine and you fall into blessed whiteness. After an unknown amount of time, they decide that they no longer need to take you to that machine or to use those words. All you have ever known is Hydra, after all, there is no way you would turn against them. That's their first mistake. You bid your time, and slowly they give you more freedom. The idiots.

  As your 18th birthday had approached you set a tattoo appointment. You would rather die than let Hydra find out what your soulmate mark would be. You had decided beforehand that you would go in and get multiple tattoos on your birthday to mask the one that would betray the person that fate had deemed you destined for.

 Waking up the morning of your 18th birthday you run to the mirror. Seeing the markings on your skin you die a little inside. It can’t be, he can’t be your soulmate, how are you going to be able to save yourself and him? There on your hip, the size of a nickel, in bright red ink is a star, not just any star but the blood-red star that is a prominent feature on the arm of the Winter Soldier. But that isn’t the only thing that catches your eye. You have another tattoo, on your left bicep a bouquet of marigolds, white daisies, baby’s breath, and yellow gladiolus, with the howling face of a wolf emerging from the center. You hurry around your apartment, hiding your marks with a heavy layer of makeup. You can’t run the risk of anyone seeing them now, not before you have the chance to cover them.

You rush to the tattoo parlor in a panic and tell them the two tattoos you want. You insist that they do both of them while you are there. You cut through the protests assuring them that you have a high pain tolerance and that you heal very quickly. In the weeks preceding this day you had contemplated what exactly you needed. You had reasoned beforehand that just one tattoo would be too suspicious, but now that you have two marks you decide that you only need to get one other tattoo. You know that you will be punished for this but it is worth it, he is worth it.

To cover the soulmate mark on your hip you get a galaxy with stars of all different colors that make up multiple constellations. It takes them most of the day to finish it, walking over to the mirror you study the new art on your hip. It stretches from the middle of your thigh up to your bottom rib. It's large enough that the stars fade into the background, making it practically impossible to tell that one of them is your soulmark. 

The second tattoo is a bird in a cage that spans across the ribs on the opposite side as the galaxy. You have them make the bird abstract, using all types of different objects to create the shape of the bird and the cage. You leave the other soulmark alone, it is impossible to tell that it is a soulmark or at least who it pertains to, not with the other two tattoos vying for attention.

  You leave the parlor late that afternoon and head home. As you open the door to your apartment you are met by the overly happy face of your father. You had expected him to be there but the look on his face causes you to pause.

"My daughter, where have you been? I have been waiting for you almost all day?” the fake concern in his voice makes your teeth clench. In response, you shrug noncommittally,

“I had to run some errands and they ended up taking longer than I expected.” He is suspicious of your lie, but it won't take long for him to discover exactly where you were all day.

“No matter my child, you are here now. As you know you turned 18 today, which means your soul mark has appeared. Show it to me so that we may begin to look for the man who will hold your heart." He oozes smugness, believing that he will soon have the key to keeping you in check. You stare him down, you will die before he finds out who your soulmate is.

"Sorry to disappoint dad,” you spit, “ but I had it tattooed over. I didn’t even look at it. So I will never know who my soulmate is but neither will you." as soon as the words pass your lips your father's face contorts. His rage at your defiance shifting him from your father to the lead scientist of Hydra.

His grip is bruising as he drags you from the apartment and to the lab. The table is freezing as he straps your half-naked body to it. He snarls at you as you glare up at him.

“You think that you can defy me and not face the consequences? You think that I would not punish you because you are my daughter? I don’t give a shit about you except for what you can do for the cause. You are nothing but a puppet for us to use.” he walks away ordering for you to be tortured until you reveal what your mark is. The only condition he gives is that you are not to be killed, after all, they still have use for you.

  You spent days on that table, days of being tortured with every instrument they could think of. You were waterboarded, choked, burned and they paid extra attention to cutting every inch of skin that was covered by tattoos. At the end of every day your father would come in and ask if you had something to tell him, and every day you spit in his face. 

After three days they decide to brainwash you, they can’t wipe you since they need you coherent enough to remember what they want to know. The words wash over you, and yet to your surprise, you still have complete control. You quickly use it to your advantage. You allow them to think it worked, answering their questions as if the soldier is in control. You tell them what you told your father. You didn't look at your mark, you immediately had it tattooed over. They believe you.

After all that must be the truth, you are their soldier and their soldier cannot lie. You are just relieved that they have finally given up, you aren't sure that you could have made it another day without blacking out or losing it.

  When they drag you off the table and throw you into one of the cells you can barely move or even think. Curling into yourself on the hard cot, you allow sleep to take you. Your father doesn't allow you to rest for long, as soon as your body is in mostly working order you are thrown back into training.

“Fight or die.” He states, looking down at you as though you are the scum of the earth. “It matters not to me which you choose.” You act as their soldier and obey their commands as well as you can without losing yourself. Walking into the training ring you are dismayed to see that you are fighting none other than the winter soldier, your soulmate. You fight with everything you have, your hatred for Hydra growing with every bruise and cut you are forced to bestow. You use the moments you have alone in your cell to plan. 

When you were younger you were forced to watch as Hydra wiped and programmed the soldier before they made you into one as well, at this point, you know his words by heart. You start to wonder, if they can make a series of trigger words to turn him into the Soldat, maybe you can come up with a phrase that will help bring him back. You spend the rest of the night creating the sentence that you will use, deciding on a nickname for him that has meaning to you.

Sunflower, that is the name you decide on. They are, after all, your favorite flower and if fate is to be trusted then he is to be your favorite person. The next day you begin implementing your plan, taking the opportunity to speak with him in the moments that you have him pinned down or he has you pinned down. 

  Every time it's the same phrase, spoken to him in Russian, “Hello Sunflower, the sun is up and your dreaming is done." This continues for months until one day Hydra decides that you are fit to go on missions with the Soldier, they believe you to be thoroughly under their control.

Every mission you find a chance to say the phrase to him. In the time you spend with him you learn to read him. He isn’t expressive, Hydra made sure of that, but when you pay enough attention you start to see the minute changes in his eyes or stance. You begin to notice a difference in him whenever you speak the phrase, no matter when his last brainwashing was. He begins to recognize you, even when in full Winter Soldier mode. When you speak to him while training his hits get a little softer and less aggressive, and when you are on missions he speaks just a little bit more.

You are 23 when the unthinkable happens, while on a mission, without the winter soldier, you fall into a river in some backwater town in Europe. You are saved from drowning by a man that you just shot. A man you have only read about in the soldier’s files. Steve Rogers. After retrieving you from freezing water, he takes your unconscious body back with him to the medical wing in the Avengers tower.

As you wake up your first thought is where am I, your second thought is this bed is way too fucking comfortable for Hydra. Your eyes shoot open. The blinding light of the room causes you a headache to make itself known. You start to move, feeling a tug at your wrists, you slowly open your eyes and look down. You are cuffed to the railing of a hospital bed, great. You flop back onto the bed, cursing your luck and hoping that whoever has you is willing to listen. Your gaze shifts to the door when you notice a figure behind the glass. The glass doors slide open, and Steve walks in. This revelation causes you to tense up, even more, you did shoot him after all.

“Oh good you're awake,” he says, noticing your open eyes and tense figure. “Now I get to ask you all of the questions I’ve been wanting to ask for the past three days.” He takes a seat next to you, his whole body screams intimidation. "Who are you? Why did you shoot me? What were you doing in that town and where did you get these?" He questions not bothering to hide the anger in his voice. 

He is holding up Bucky’s dog tags in front of your face and waiting impatiently for you to answer. You want to snatch them out of his hand and place them back around your neck, after taking them from his file about a month ago you haven’t taken them off. You were going to give them to him after you got him out, which you were planning on doing within the next couple of weeks. But now you are stuck here and there is nothing you can do to get back to him. You look at Steve, desperation coloring your voice as you explain, praying that he will listen.

"My name is Y/N, my father is Hydra and forced me to become an experiment, a soldier for them. I was planning on escaping but I never could, I couldn’t escape and leave him there. Not when I could do something to save him. I couldn’t leave him there all alone." It came out in a rush. Your heart shatters as you realize that you have done exactly what you have tried so hard not to, you have left your soulmate in the hands of Hydra. You have to convince Steve to help you get him back.

"Wait a minute, you're Hydra?" He spits at you. Fuck, you forgot that he knew what hydra is and that he hates them with a passion. Well, at least we have something in common.

"Not by choice." You answer quickly, not liking the vehemence in his voice, yet unable to hide the hatred in your own. You notice the way his jaw relaxes the tiniest bit when you say that, if you hadn't had years of practice watching Bucky for the tiniest hints of himself you would have missed it.

"Alright then, who is this ‘he’ you keep mentioning?" Steve leans back, crossing his arms as he waits for your answer.

"My soulmate, the Soldier, the man on the dog tags, James Buchanan Barnes." Steve's eyes immediately narrow, his body goes stiff,

"You’re lying. I watched him fall from that train” His teeth are clenched as he speaks. “I watched him die! There is no way he's your soulmate!" you can practically feel the anger rolling off of him.

"I'm not lying! I swear!” you are terrified of what he will do if you can’t convince him. “Hydra got to him. They made him into a weapon, they brainwashed him and put him on ice when they didn’t need him so that they could control him better. I swear I'm not lying!" You can’t stop yourself from becoming slightly hysterical. Usually, you would remain calm in this type of situation, but this time you can’t. This time it’s Hydra and this time it’s James.

A girl, that you had noticed in the corner earlier, steps forward, resting a hand on his shoulder. You hear her murmur something to him, but you aren’t able to make out what exactly she says. His countenance softens when he looks at the girl and you are reminded of how you sometimes look at James. Turning back to you he stares for a moment before he making a decision,

“Fine, I can’t fully trust you and I can’t let you go, so you will have to live here in the tower, under surveillance. If you want us to trust you, you will have to prove yourself trustworthy." He stands, unlocks your cuffs, and strides out of the room, you understand, what you just told him is a lot to take in.

The girl that was with him turns to you, “I’ll make sure that they have a room ready for you as soon as you are well enough to leave the hospital.” She gives you a soft smile and turns to leave, pausing for a moment at the door.

“I have just one more question.” You nod at her when she pauses, you will try your best to answer it. “I know you shot Steve.” she starts. “But you missed anything important on purpose, didn’t you?" You just smile at her, she's right, but you know nothing you say will change anything. She studies you for a moment before walking out of the door.

  Your arrangement works for a year. In that year you have become close to the avengers that live there. During the first six months you and Steve’s girl, Sarah, spend every morning together. She wants to learn how to fight and you are willing to teach her. You become close, she is the first person in the tower to trust you. In return for teaching her to fight she teaches you sign language. Apparently, one of her siblings was born deaf so her whole family knows how to sign. You become closer to Steve during this time as well, he still doesn’t fully trust you but he is willing to tell you more about his best friend. He always calls him Bucky and you find yourself calling him that too. But they end up moving to DC, leaving you in the compound with mostly Tony for company. Natasha and Clint are in and out of the tower and you come to a mutual understanding. You and Natasha have similar upbringings and it forms a bond, not friendship, but definitely trust.  

Then after about a year of freedom from Hydra shit hits the fan. Fury is shot and Steve discovers that Hydra has been a part of Shield since the beginning. You have to escape the tower before Hydra gets to you, so you do. You keep an eye on Steve and Sarah, at a distance, of course, you know they will send Bucky after him and that will be your chance to get to him.

Then the bridge happens and you see your soulmate for the first time in a year. Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest as you run towards him. You watch as he attacks Steve, you see Steve's shock as the mask falls off and you hear his heartbroken voice when he calls out for his friend. You hear Bucky’s crushing answer. You run, tackling him to the ground, just like you had done so many times in training. He fights back, you knew he would. You struggle with him, dodging punches and his knife. You are finally able to flip him onto the concrete and pin him down. Your heart in your throat as you stare into the eyes of your soulmate, praying as you speak that he will remember. Knowing that he has an unconscious reminder of you etched on his skin in ink. Here goes nothing. 

“Hello sunflower, the sun is up and your dreaming is done."

Tagged users: @calwitch @writerwrites