#and THEN. i go and inject into my brain an ENTIRE. GAME. that is held together by elmers glue and bubblegum. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bubblesuga · 4 years ago

Text

off the table.

Summary: Fate has an odd way of playing with your mind. When you leave Min Yoongi on his door step nearly a decade ago, you became positive that you would never find love again. Settling for a man you thought you could learn to love, you had given up on fully moving on. But again, fate likes to play.

W/C: 11,680

Genre: Idol!AU, smut, fluff

Warnings: cussing, smut, mentions of exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, Jimin is curious about Yoongi’s (non-existent) sex life,

A/N: Based loosely off of Off The Table by Ariana Grande if you want a song to listen to as you read :) x

“So, this is it then?”

“Yeah.”

The near migraine-inducing memory always happens to flash in your mind at the worst times possible. Eight years ago, you found yourself standing at the front door of your ex boyfriend’s dorm with a solemn heart as he softly explained what his life was going to turn into. It was a short conversation, one the both of you had seen coming but neither of you wanted to admit it.

As his new friends and new life began to form behind him in the small one bedroom apartment, you nodded, and you left with one last kiss to his rosy lips. His deep brown eyes bore into yours with just as much sadness that you felt before you dragged yourself away helplessly.

Of course, now that you were 3 months into a new relationship, the memory decides to pop it’s way back into your brain as if it had just happened. A soft whisper in your mind gently coaxed you away from your latest fling and disassociated you from the moment entirely. He’s a nice guy, as well. Good head on his shoulders, smart with money, and loves to cook for you. So the sense of guilt you felt was tremendous because despite having this gorgeous man in front of you, your mind always flew back to him.

It has become more and more difficult not to think of him considering the fact that his face is now everywhere. The news, the internet, your fucking cold brew... He was there, the same bright features and adorable nose. You wondered if he thought of you from time to time, how you’re doing or what you could be up to since you graduated university. With as hectic of a schedule that you’re sure he held, you highly doubted that you have been on his mind since the end. Knowing him, he threw himself into his work and hasn’t looked back. It shows in his music, though. You always knew that he would be successful.

“...are you even listening to me?”

The words dragged you out of your trance and you immediately set down your coffee, “What? Of course I am.”

Junwoo couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “What was I talking about then?”

Fuck.

You push your hair back, a habit you developed recently as your desire to try and forget about your ex boyfriend has grown stronger, “I’m sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”

Maybe it hasn’t just been lately. Maybe every single time you feel Junwoo’s lips against yours, you can’t help but compare him to Yoongi. He didn’t need to know that, though.

“Yeah, you use that a lot as your excuse. I’ll try not to bore you with tales from my clients anymore.” Junwoo slides the plate in front of you, a heart shaped kimchi pancake lay flat in the middle of it, and you feel your guilt grow stronger.

“No! I love hearing about them, I- I think I need to see someone about what’s going on in my head.” You explain. You had yet to mention to anyone that you dated Suga of BTS before he was known as such. In fact, you’re pretty sure if you even hinted at it, you’d become the laughing stock of Seoul. It made it impossibly difficult to talk about your feelings with Junwoo. He always tries to pry, but you shut him down completely.

“What’s going on? Is it serious?” concern laces his features and he sits carefully beside you at the table.

“No, I just need someone to talk to.” you try to shake the feeling of discontent when his arm wraps around your shoulder.

He leans his head on yours- “you can always talk to me.” -you shutter.

“A professional, just to help me get back on my game. Regain control of...” you let out a soft sigh and feel Junwoo’s lips brush against your temple, “...myself.”

“_____, I am a literal therapist.”

“A literal therapist who is emotionally involved with me. Isn’t it inappropriate to make out with your patients?” You quirk, raising an eyebrow.

He rolls his eyes again, “Okay. Let me know if you need recommendations. Us in the brain community are pretty tight-knit.” He stands up and runs a hand through your hair before trotting back to the kitchen to begin his own breakfast.

You nibble on the inside of your cheek as you stare down at your pancake, picking up the butter knife beside your plate and dragging it down the center with a grimace on your face.

~*~*~

Even though you spent many years studying medicine, you didn’t think it would involve this much typing. Staring at patient charts has become a normal during your regular work day, especially since you’re boss decided that he didn’t need to look at the charts, he just wanted to hear from you.

You’re a nurse, not a secretary.

Today you were assigned to the emergency room, which was one of your favorite places to be. Everything was much faster than if you happened to be in post-op or general medicine, but the moment you enter the doors, you were piled with paperwork that you were sure a medical assistant could be doing.

The drowning sounds of chatter and machine’s melodic beeping blended with your fingers as they typed name after name, number after number for an hour straight. Just as you thought your soul had completely drained from your body, you hear a tap on the desk.

“H- hi, uh- my friend’s foot got cut open and we think he needs stitches. Is there any way that we could get seen quickly?” You glance up and your eyes immediately go wide.

You remember meeting Namjoon a few times in passing when you were still seeing Yoongi, but he’s much taller than you remember. Instantly you feel your face go red, and you were frozen in place. Why the hell was Namjoon here? How did he manage to choose this hospital of all the ones in Seoul?

You happen to tear your eyes away from him for a second, glancing over and seeing Jungkook being held up by Jimin as his foot stays elevated in the air. The minute you see a t-shirt wrapped tightly around Jungkook’s foot, you move to action.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that! Let me get you a wheelchair,” you swing around the desk and grab one of the folded up wheelchairs and roll it towards Jungkook. He grimaces as he sits down, his foot crossed onto the opposite knee. Jimin seems relieved not to have his friend leaning on him anymore, and you pause for a second to assess the situation.

“Jenni! Do we have an open bed anywhere?” You grab your co worker who walks passed you with her hands filled with bandages.

“Back corner, we just cleaned it.” She calls back, walking without glancing at the people you’re trying to help.

You nod, immediately walking Jungkook towards the back and gesturing for Namjoon and Jimin to follow. You grab an empty chart as you walk, before opening the curtain for the bed and allowing the three men to slide into the area.

“I hate to be pushy but this really hurts.” Jungkook hisses as wrap your arm beneath his and slowly lift him towards the bed. Immediately, you slip gloves onto your hands and begin to unwrap the t-shirt. There’s quite a bit of blood, but not enough to have you worried that he hit an artery.

Namjoon bites his lip before speaking, “I should have watched the stage better. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook shrugs, wincing while he attempts to pull himself up higher, “It was hard to see. Not your fault, or anyone else’s.”

“Except for the person who broke the stage.” Namjoon quips, rubbing his hands over his face, frustrated.

“It’s fine, hyung. The pretty nurse is going to fix Kookie right up.” Jimin is quick to comfort both of his friends while simultaneously causing you to blush.

It’s then that you notice the three of them in clothes similar to their rehearsal getup from all those years ago. Sweat lines each of their foreheads and you wonder just how this whole thing happened.

After inspecting the wound, you whip towards the suture kit, “It is deep enough to require stitches. I’m going to call the doctor down and have her suture you up. Until then would you like me to numb the pain?” Even though you’re well aware who these men are, and how close you potentially are to your ex boyfriend, you can’t help but let your professional prowess overpower your incessant need to think of Yoongi.

Jungkook nods, “At this point I’ll take a shot of whiskey and something to knock me out.”

You smile, “Unfortunately there isn’t any whiskey here. Believe me, I’ve been searching since I got here.”

Namjoon chuckles from beside you as you put your finger up to let them know you’ll be right back. Pulling open the curtain, you meander over to the nurse’s station and pick up the phone to call the ER doctor down. As you wait for him, you grab all the supplies to clean Jungkook’s foot, including a Lidocaine injection. Before you get the chance to turn back around, you hear the ER doors burst open and see four sweaty men tearing their way into the hospital.

Four sweaty men, including Min Yoongi.

An uncharacteristic whimper leaves your lips as you spot the rest of the members, all rushing passed you when they see Namjoon stick his head out of the curtains.

You feel all the blood drain from your face when the familiarity of Yoongi’s presence passes by you. Jenni notices your panic from the other side of the nurse’s station and lets out a little giggle, “Come on, you can’t get all shy just because they’re BTS. You have a job to do.”

“I can’t go in there now, Jenni. You have to take over.” You turn back to her with wild eyes, desperately trying to hand her all the supplies you gathered. Your eyes continuously glance backwards, watching them pile in. Yoongi can’t see you, you won’t be able to look the man in the eyes. You can’t even begin to think about the embarrassment you will feel if Yoongi sees you.

Jenni only laughs, “You’re a professional. Dr. Gwan will be down soon so you only have to be with them for a few moments.”

In a last ditch effort, you call out to her as she walks towards another patient.

Okay. You’re panicking now.

The universe has to be playing some sort of sick game on you right about now. You have not been able to get that stupid man off your mind lately and now here he was in your emergency room. First he’s worried about his brother but now he’s going to see you and want to chat and catch up. Knowing him, he’ll ask you for coffee and you’ll probably learn of his girlfriend or possible wife. He’ll wonder why you’re not married yet, and you’ll have to hide the fact that you haven’t been able to properly move on because of him.

That’s only to say if he even remembers you.

Taking a deep breath, you swallow your anxiety and enter the curtain.

“Alright, Jungkook. Do you have any allergies that I should know about before I inject you with my magic numbing liquid?” It’s much more cramped in the room than it was before. The 6 members crowd to one side of the bed while you stand on the other. You refuse to look up for fear that Yoongi is going to recognize you.

“No allergies.” Jungkook shakes his head.

“Good, good,” you lean forward, elevating Jungkook’s foot and removing the make shift bandage, “you’re gonna feel a slight pinch.”

“He’s not going to lose his foot or anything, right?” A voice asks. You recognize it as Taehyung’s.

“No,” you’re sure they can sense how rigid you are, “he’s not going to be able to dance for a little bit, but he’ll be back and better than ever in no time.” No one responds, and you finally make eye contact with Jungkook, “Are you ready?”

Again, he nods, and you slowly push the needle into his foot. He cringes enough to jerk his upper body slightly, but Jimin is at his side just as quickly as it started.

You dispose of the needle immediately afterwards, wrapping his foot up to keep pressure applied to the wound, “Okay, Dr. Gwan will be here soon. She’ll get you sutured up and I’ll be back later to check on you.”

“Thank you, miss. It already feels better.” He sighs happily, relaxing backwards onto the pillow.

You grin, momentarily forgetting that your ex boyfriend is 3 feet away, “Of course, Jungkook. That’s my job.”

It’s then that you catch Yoongi’s eye for the first time that night. It’s not to say he didn’t recognize you before, but he wasn’t able to say anything once he saw you working. He was deathly still, the rest of the day leaving his mind when your shiny eyes met his. He sees you swallow, and you walk out without saying anything else.

“That was _____.” Yoongi murmurs after a moment, staring at the swaying curtains where you once exited.

The chatter stops instantly, and everyone turns to Yoongi.

“The _____?” Hoseok questions, his eyes wide while he also turns to watch the curtains.

Yoongi nods, his throat going dry as memories of you sleeping beside him at night when he had nothing to his name wash over him. You, with the exception of his brother, were the only person supporting him when he said he wanted a career in music. You applied to universities in Seoul so you could be closer to his dream, you were always so excited to hear his new music and you always told him that he was going to make it big.

It’s not like Yoongi hadn’t thought of you since you broke up. He was a complete mess for months afterwards. His schedule solely consisted of working and rehearsing because he couldn’t bare to have a moment to himself.

Yoongi repeatedly beat himself up for the way he ended things and more specifically, the reason he ended things. After getting into BigHit, Yoongi realized he was seeing less and less of you. You were so busy with med school and he was so busy with rehearsals that you were lucky to see each other once a week. He knew you’d be better off finding someone who could be there for you, and that it was best for him to focus on his career.

He just wasn’t aware of how much that would kill him inside.

“Well what are you doing here? Aren’t you going to go talk to her?” Seokjin pushes. There are times when Yoongi has to remind himself that he isn’t the oldest in the group, and that usually comes when Seokjin takes his role as older brother very seriously.

Yoongi scoffs at the taller man, “What do you want me to say? ‘Hey I know it’s been 8 years but lets meet up for coffee and pretend like we didn’t break each other’s hearts’?” he takes a moment to collect his thoughts, “Besides, Jungkook needs us here while he gets his foot stabbed.”

“Oh no, hyung,” Jungkook laughs, “I’m doing juuuust fine. You go talk to the pretty nurse.”

Yoongi swallows, “What should I say?”

Namjoon shrugs, “Whatever comes to mind.”

Yoongi’s feet carry him out of the curtained off area, his eyes searching across the emergency room in an attempt to find you. He spots you at the desk by the front door, and with a nervous head tilt, he’s dragging himself towards you.

The moment you left Jungkook, you threw yourself back into paperwork and became so immersed that you didn’t hear anything going on around you. Except for the soft footsteps pattering up to your station, which causes you to tear your eyes away from the chicken scratch handwriting on the chart in front of you.

It’s silent for a beat, you can feel the heat rising to your ears as you look up at him. His hair is longer, different from the short style he’d gel up every morning before the break up. There’s more piercings on his ears, but at the core of the new flashy clothes and dyed hair, he’s still the same man who professed his love for you at 17 years old.

“Hi.” he whispers.

“...hi.” you respond, your hands still frozen over the keyboard as Yoongi fiddles with his fingers on top of the desk.

“Thank you for helping-” Yoongi is cut off by another Nurse calling you over from a different bed in the emergency room.

You give him a quick glance, “I’m sorry, duty calls.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but feel his heartbeat quicken when you stand. He had a better look at the pink scrubs donned on your body, and the smile on his face was nearly uncontrollable when he realizes that you made it exactly where you wanted to be. Your dreams of helping people has now become a reality.

You’re truly in your element, and Yoongi can tell. The concern on your face as you help a little girl sat in the center of a bed way too big for her was a sure fire way to know that you were in the right place.

So, Yoongi doesn’t push a conversation. Instead, he walks back to his band mates and watches in awe as Dr. Gwan stitches up Jungkook’s foot.

~*~*~

“He walked away.”

“He walked away?!”

“He. Walked. Away.” You emphasize to Jenni, holding your hands to your face while you let out a groan.

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” she sets down her iced americano, the chatter of the hospital cafeteria drowned out by your conversation, “you dated Suga from BTS before he was famous, and he broke up with you because you were both leading different lives?”

You nod.

She continues, “and you see him in person for the first time in 8 years, and you don’t talk to him?!”

“Wait why are you yelling at me?!”

“Because, dummy,” she leans over the table and flicks your forehead, “he’s been on your mind a lot lately and suddenly he’s at your job! It’s not a coincidence.”

It’s only been about a week since you saw Yoongi, and of course your attempts to get him out of your mind has been fruitless.

“What am I meant to do? Drop everything and run to him?” You ask incredulously, angrily digging your spoon in your yogurt.

Jenni waves her hand haphazardly, “No, no. You catch up with him, see how he’s doing now that he’s a world famous rapper- oh my god, _____ you let go of him?! You didn’t fight for him?!”

“You said you weren’t going to judge me!”

“That was before I learned exactly what you did! Dumb girl,” Jenni shakes her head disapprovingly, “and you’ve settled for Mr. Brainiac instead.”

Jenni isn’t the biggest fan of Junwoo.

“Mr. Brainiac is nice and sweet and knows how to treat me right,” You explain quietly, the fruit in your yogurt seemingly tasteless on your tongue, “but...”

“But he’s not Yoongi?” Jenni tilts her head.

“I don’t think anyone can ever compare to Yoongi. I’m sure it’s unrequited at this point.” As much as you hate to admit it, that’s the part that broke your heart the most about seeing Yoongi. The fact that you couldn’t bare to look at him for more than a second, because it just wasn’t the same as before. It will never been the same as before.

Jenni shrugs, “you won’t know until you find out.”

“And I’m supposed to... what? Show up at his house?”

Jenni’s eyes seem to trail behind you, and a grin on her face, “When is Jungkook supposed to get his sutures removed?”

Confused, you raise an eyebrow and turn around in your chair to see none other than the man of the hour, Min Yoongi. Instead of being dressed in rehearsal clothes like the other day, Yoongi wears all black with a silver bag wrapped around his torso.

You whip back around and glare at Jenni, “I swear to god if you call him-”

“Suga!” Jenni calls out before you can finish your sentence. Your head falls into your hands with another frustrated moan. Jenni waves her hand to him, Yoongi watching warily before he spots that you’re sat right across from her.

He hesitates for a moment, noticing the way you drag knees to your chest which is a nervous tick you have had since before Yoongi had met you. However, he realizes that if he ever wants to talk to you, now would be the best time. Having followed Jungkook to the hospital for the sole purpose of possibly bumping into you, he had to make due with any interaction he could get.

Jenni gets up and leaves as Yoongi walks his way over to you. Your head is now buried in your knees, but you hear the chair screech across from you.

“Hi again.”

You lift your head up, “Hi, Suga. How is life?”

You can see hurt flash through Yoongi’s face at your use of his stage name, but he shakes it off, “Life is going pretty well. How about yours?”

“It’s going well.”

You still haven’t made direct eye contact with him. Despite having not seen you in person in so many years, his heart ached in his chest at the thought that you may still be hurt. Who is he kidding, though? He’s still hurt by the decision himself.

With a sigh, he scoots his chair forward, “Are we going to pretend that there isn’t a history behind us?”

You laugh bitterly, “Haven’t you been doing a pretty good job of that for the passed eight years?”

Yoongi’s jaw drops. You don’t remember Yoongi ever showing his emotions so freely on his face. That was one of the good things from the interviews you have seen, those 6 boys have opened up Yoongi more and more to his emotions. You feel bad for your response, but you’re unsure how to apologize.

“I didn’t want to end things just much as you didn’t,” He bites, ignoring the tinge in his heart, “I want to catch up. It’s nice seeing you again.”

“I have a boyfriend.” You say, your yogurt seeming much more interesting than it was moments before.

He clears his throat, “That’s okay.”

“Because I had to move on.”

“That’s okay.” He repeats, his fingertips drumming along the table top. He hasn’t been chewing his nails lately. That’s good for him. Though, the nervous habit has developed into something different, the drumming of his finger tips echoing more and more in your head as the awkward silence mulls on. Even in a loud cafeteria, your mind only focused on him.

With out thinking much of it, you reach your hand forward and place it on top of his to get the drumming to stop. Yoongi looks up at you while you hold your hand atop of his. For a moment, the silence continues as you stare into his deep brown eyes. You’re transported back to your late teens, where you felt as though you were on top of the world with Min Yoongi by your side. He stared at you as if you were his entire universe, spending night after night cuddled up together, talking about your dreams and aspirations while simultaneously chasing them together.

Well, it used to be together, but instead you had to push yourself through your dreams alone.

Yoongi’s the first to break the silence, letting a dry chuckle fall effortlessly from his lips while he stares down at your touching hands, “You used to do the same thing if you saw me biting my nails.”

Even though you want to be mad, you wand to walk away and never speak to him again, you can’t. Instead, you nibble on your lip in an attempt to stifle your giggle. Yoongi notices and realizes he’s making good headway into conversation.

“You told me to help you stop, the only thing that seemed to get you to stop was-”

“Your touch?” Yoongi suggests, a teasing gummy grin on his face.

“Yeah,” you finally let out a laugh, “my touch distracted you from a lot of things.”

The people in the cafeteria didn’t seem to be bothered by the two of you in the center of the room. Busy doctors and nurses trying to get their lunch in, loved ones of patients desperately waiting to hear if their surgeries went well, all is forgotten as you fall into the same pit you found yourself in many years ago. Bottomless, but bright. Visions of the future dancing along you as you fall deeper and deeper. Although now, it seems to be visions of what could have been.

“Of course it did, how could I focus when I had your pretty face in front of me?” Yoongi’s tone is still teasing, but melancholy wades through his words.

You slip your hand away hesitantly, and Yoongi’s wrist twitches at the sudden loss of contact. “That’s the reason it ended, isn’t it?”

This is a conversation that Yoongi is not ready for, but at this point he’ll take anything he can get with you, “What do you mean?”

“You broke up with me because you knew I’d distract you from your dream.”

He brings the hand you once held upward, scorching skin touching the back of his neck nervously as he takes a deep breath, “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t play a part.”

You inhale and drop your legs from the edge of your chair before leaning forward. After years of questioning whether or not you would ever move on, you finally have the chance to get some closure. “What was the final straw?”

He bites his lip, “I was able to fall asleep without you.”

You didn’t think you’d be able to feel your heart sink as deep as it has. Even after all these years, your emotions are bubbling to the surface. How can something so simple break your heart so badly?

“You were in school during the day and I was training at night,” he continues, “we never saw each other and I struggled for so long to fall asleep without you next to me. Then... one day my head hit the pillow and I fell asleep immediately.”

Another knife to your chest.

“Did you struggle at all? After the break up, I mean.” You try to search for some sense of regret in his eyes but he’s always been very good at putting up a wall and having people fight for a way in.

He laughs bitterly, “Of course I struggled. Are you kidding me? I thought I was going to marry you, have kids with you. I was nearly inconsolable once it really set in that you weren’t going to be with me anymore.”

You swallow anxiously, “But it was really for the best, yeah? You’ve got your career and I’ve got mine. We’re both successful. Given, you’re entirely more successful than I am but I’m happy with where I’m at.”

“Don’t say that,” Yoongi breaths, “you worked your ass off to get to where you are, you’re just as successful as I am.”

“You think we wouldn’t have got to where we are if we stayed together.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but Yoongi seems to ponder on his answer.

“I think we were young and didn’t know much about life. It was a shitty time for both of us, but I did and still do think that in some aspect of the word, you are my soulmate.”

Your breath hitches at the word.

Beyond already having thought this yourself, the realization that Yoongi thinks it as well causes your chest to flush with heat. The adoration you felt years ago when Yoongi’s hair was always styled neatly in a mohawk and you had no clue how to use eyeliner still rests itself neatly at the bottom of your heart. Hearing Yoongi even say the word ‘soulmate’ nearly reduced you to a puddle of tears.

Yoongi notices that you haven’t let out a breath, “Fuck,” he’s panicking, running his hand anxiously through his hair, “fuck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to freak you out, I- I-” He cuts himself off and allows his head to fall into his hands.

A moment passes, and he seems to gather himself once he hears you exhale, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you last. I dreamed about what I wanted to say to you and insisted on being the one to drive Jungkook to the hospital today with just the hope and slightest chance that I might run into you.”

“What’s your plan here, then?”

“I want to be friends.” He proposes.

You scoff, “Do you have time for friends now?”

He sighs, expecting the reply but still feeling his chest tighten, “Let’s hang out on a day where the two of us have nothing going on. When are you off next?”

“I have a boyfriend.” You reiterate, raising an eyebrow.

“Not a date,” he dismisses you, “just as friends. When are you off next?”

Crossing your arms, you eye him suspiciously as he widens his eyes in an attempt to push you towards an answer.

“Saturday.”

“Great,” he breathes, “I’ll make sure I’m free that day too.”

~*~*~

Maybe you are taking a bit too much time getting ready for a man who has already seen you at your worst. Maybe you purposely wore purple lipstick in an attempt to show that you have been paying attention to his career and maybe, just maybe, you are way too happy to be hanging out with Min Yoongi once again.

That doesn’t take away from your nervousness, though. Your hand shakes as you finish applying your mascara. You don’t live in a nice mansion like Yoongi does, and you’re terrified that someone will spot him picking you up from your apartment and all hell will break loose. You’ve read some of the tabloids involving anyone close to the group, so your anxiety is nearly palpable.

“Get a grip,” you whisper to yourself, “you’ve seen this man naked before. There’s no need to be nervous.”

As you finish your make up, you move on to your hair but stop once you hear a knock on your door.

Yoongi isn’t supposed to be here for another half hour.

“Fuck.” you whisper, standing quickly from your vanity mirror and rushing towards the front door in a panic. You peep through the lens in the door, confusion striking you when you spot Junwoo.

The lock turns loudly and you slide open the door, “Hi?”

His eyes raise from the ground until he meets yours, “You’re awfully dressed up just to be hanging at home.”

“I have plans.” You state, slipping your undone hair behind your ear. You couldn’t help but notice the instant meekness you felt take over your body the moment you saw Junwoo.

“With me?” He questions, stepping into your apartment. His black hair is pushed back with way too much gel to be comfortable, the honey brown eyes that usually comforted you suddenly made you feel uneasy.

You shake your head in response, “An old friend. He and I are-”

“He?” Junwoo cuts you off, much louder than he was moments before. You take a step back at the sudden change of tone, your jaw nearly dropping at his audacity.

“Yes, he. Is that a problem?” It was probably in your best interest not to challenge Junwoo. If there is anything you learned in your short time together it’s that he was very good at manipulating your words. He claims it’s his way of reading deeper into the situation but you think your intentions are pretty surface-level.

Junwoo didn’t seem to expect your attitude, backing down immediately with a nervous scratch to the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t know how I feel about you hanging out with another guy.”

A scoff leaves your mouth as you scan Junwoo’s posture change, “Are you one of those people who assumes men and women can’t be platonic friends?”

“Yes.”

Well, at least he’s honest.

You roll your eyes, “I can assure you that he’s just a friend.”

A friend who you have a long, egregious history with. A friend who’s lips have touched every inch of your body, has seen you break down over text books and has kissed away your tears when you were beginning to reach adulthood.

But yeah, a friend nonetheless.

“Are you still going to hang out with him if I tell you I’m uncomfortable with it?” Junwoo presses, puffing out his chest.

“I don’t feel like you have the right to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with,” you furrow your brows, “why are you even here?”

“I wanted to take you to the park, but that’s not important. Were you going to tell me that you were going out with a guy?” Man, Junwoo’s ability to annoy the fuck out of you has seemingly grown beyond a point of retribution in the short 10 minutes he’s been in front of you.

As you open your mouth to respond, another knock sounds on the door. You let out a small groan, reaching towards the doorknob and turning it swiftly. On the other side is Yoongi, a striped black and white button down unbuttoned on his torso with a white t-shirt underneath. He’s certainly gotten a better fashion sense.

“Hi, Yoongi. I’m almost ready,” you send a glare in Junwoo’s direction, “I have to finish my hair and I’ll be ready.”

Junwoo is staring wide-eyed at Yoongi with his jaw dropped. Yoongi looks back at him and subtly crinkles his nose, just enough for you to spot it.

After a moment, you break the silence, “Yoongi, this is Junwoo. Junwoo,” you gesture to Yoongi, “Suga of BTS.”

Yoongi lets out a laugh, “Stop introducing me like that to people.”

“That is your name, isn’t it?” You tease, spinning the black hat on his head backwards. “Anyway, are you heading out, Junwoo?”

“You didn’t tell me that it was Suga you were hanging out with.” Junwoo speaks accusingly, making you realize that you truly didn’t make any progress throughout your entire conversation.

“He’s an old friend,” you explain, “I’ll call you later.”

Junwoo opens his mouth but closes it again. You know it’s more than likely because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of someone so influential. Junwoo cared too much about his image to do anything to disrupt it. One bad word from Yoongi and he was done for.

Silently, he steps out of your apartment but doesn’t hesitate on slamming the door shut.

Yoongi glances at you and points to the door, “Him?”

“I never claimed to make good decisions.” You sigh, causing Yoongi to giggle. “Anyway, let me finish my hair. Help yourself to anything here.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You hesitate for a moment before deciding that you didn’t have anything in particular that Yoongi could accidentally get his hands on that would be embarrassing.

As you walk out of the room, Yoongi runs his fingers along the picture frames on your wall. He remembers these pictures previously sitting on your desk in your parents’ house. Now they were lined perfectly across the off-white painted wall in your living room, images of your family and close friends filling the black painted frames.

He smiles at the picture of your mother, you’re an exact replica of her. One of the first things he struggled with beyond not seeing you anymore was the fact that he wouldn’t see your family. Despite your relationship being short lived in the beginning, he had grown very close to your family in the process. After the break up, your mother called Yoongi repeatedly asking if he needed food and clothes. He knows that you gained your big heart from her, and he wishes that he can speak with her again.

Moving on, he spots the familiar picture of you leaning against a bookshelf with Le Fleurs Du Mal by Charles Baudelaire gripped loosely in your hands. He remembers that picture from the end of high school, you insisted on stopping by the local Daegu city library one last time before you both moved to Seoul. Yoongi snapped the picture as an opportunity to remember your hometown, because he was sure the two of you would never be back there again. You would stay together and conquer the world, but unfortunately that never happened.

Yoongi can’t help but run his fingers along the side of your face, your smile hiding behind the book. Yoongi’s reflection can be seen in the window behind you, his grin just as wide as yours.

You were in love, and Yoongi misses that.

Of course now it’s not like he can do anything about that. You have a boyfriend who is clearly very loving and trusting in you.

Yoongi wasn’t necessarily sure what his plan was when he was searching for you in the hospital, nor was he sure what his plan is now that he has you within arms reach of him. Namjoon was sure to tell him how stupid he was for even attempting to get involved with you again even though you have a boyfriend but Yoongi didn’t care. So long as you were in his life somehow, he was willing to make it work. Friends, maybe more. He wasn’t sure, but he wanted whatever he could get.

He did...okay for a few years without you. He dated on and off but never really developed a connection with anyone the way he had you. He couldn’t help but compare everyone who came into his life to you no matter how hard he tried not to. It’s laughable at best, because deep down in his mind he’s well aware that nobody will ever compare to you.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Yoongi tears his eyes away from the picture and instantaneously rakes his eyes up and down your body, “Whoa.”

Dressed in a simple leggings and plaid button down combination, it accentuates your curves and causes Yoongi’s mouth to water.

You let out an embarrassed giggle, “I, uh- I wasn’t sure what we were doing to I tried to dress casually.”

Yoongi doesn’t stop his eyes from staring at your hips, “It works. Everything about you, works.”

“Careful now.” You warn jokingly, putting a hand out in an attempt to pause his thoughts.

Yoongi shakes his head, “Okay, I have a reservation ready for us.”

You lead him out your door and to the car park, “You better not be taking me to some expensive restaurant because I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“Nah,” Yoongi shakes his head, opening the passenger side door for you, “but if you still love chicken then I may have found the greatest restaurant in existence.”

Slipping into his car, you wait to respond until he moves over to the drivers side and turns the car on. “You remember that I love chicken?”

He smiles, gummy and bright just like before, “I remember everything about you.”

You ignore the flutter in your heart at his words, and sit silently beside him while the radio plays softly from his speakers. The car is far nicer than the one he used to have, and the seats have a warmer that Yoongi seemed to know the perfect temperature of. As he continues to drive on, you try not to watch the way his left hand grips the steering wheel and his right sits idly on his thigh.

8 years ago, that hand would have been resting on your thigh, fingertips brushing the inner part of your softest flesh while you leaned your head back listened to the melodic tunes of whatever song he made most recently. A few of those tunes have been turned into BTS songs, and you still felt beyond proud of him.

“Okay, we have to go around the back and through the kitchen. I just don’t want to risk-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you cut him off, waving your hand dismissively, “you’re hot shot famous guy now. Don’t want to risk getting seen with a lady.”

Yoongi chuckles, “I may be some hot shot famous guy but I’m still the same person I was a decade ago.”

You watch as he turns the car off, “Prove it.”

“What?” He laughs in disbelief.

“Prove that you’re the same person you were all those years ago.” You push, tongue in cheek while you smirk at the man beside you. He seems to ponder for a moment, puckering his lips in thought before he exits the car and runs over to your side of the car.

“Come on,” he gestures for you to get up, “hurry up.”

“Hold your horses, Mister.” you adjust the bag around your torso as you stand and let your eyes fall back to Yoongi. His back is to you and his knees are bent. Hands reach backwards for you and he turns to look at you expectantly.

Tilting your head, you smile as you hop onto Yoongi’s back. A move he’d do regularly when you’d spend hours on your feet interning at various hospitals around the city. His large hands gripped the back of your thighs and you let out a squeal as he hikes you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist.

It takes a moment for him to steady his walk as he leads you carefully up to the back door. You lean upward and knock on the back door labeled “staff only” and wait patiently as you feel Yoongi adjust you again.

“You used to carry me around like this all the time.” You grin, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. It didn’t feel weird hugging him like this. Natural instincts kicked in and the whiff of his cologne had you reeling. It’s exactly the same as he wore before, and his hair smelled of coconut conditioner. Before you would turn his head and kiss his lips every time you caught his scent, and it’s taking everything in you right now not to do exactly that.

“I did,” you can hear the smile in Yoongi’s voice, “and you never reciprocated.”

“I’ll give you a piggy back on the way out, how about that?” You pat the top of his head as the door opens to reveal a very confused looking employee.

A sheepish smile is held on Yoongi’s face while the employee realizes who he is. “Mr. Min,” he bows his head, “lovely to have you again. We have your usual table set up in the back.”

“Awesome,” Yoongi drawls sweetly, “lead the way!”

Heat fills your face as the kitchen staff of the unnamed restaurant watch curiously while Yoongi walks you to the table.

He doesn’t allow you to get off, instead he turns around and drops you onto the booth seat as you try to silence the squeal that leaves your mouth. Yoongi only laughs as he flips back around to see the top half of your body slip between the table and the seat. He’s quick to help you up but his arms grow weak from laughing so he takes a few moments to pull you back up. You couldn’t help but laugh as well, the ridiculousness of the situation bringing back memories.

“I’m sorry,” he says, inhaling another laugh as he slips into the seat opposite of you, “I didn’t think you would fall.”

You adjust the hat on your head, “It’s fine, I didn’t need my equilibrium to work properly anyway.”

Yoongi can’t help but watch you carefully as you open the menu. Your nose still crinkled when you came across a dish you may not particularly like, and your eyes widened whenever you saw something that you thought looked good.

Both of you decided on a beer to drink and various flavors of dry rub wings to enjoy. As you waited on your food to be cooked, you sip your beer and suck your teeth while you decide whether or not you want to ask him all your dying questions.

Deciding to start small, you took a deep breath as Yoongi met your eyes, “How much did they have to fight you to get you to start dancing?”

He let out a sigh of relief, half expecting the awkwardness of your history together to take over, “I almost quit like four times, I won’t lie.”

You giggle, “I figured. You do well, though. I was amazed by your Seesaw performance when you started dancing on your own up there. Genuinely was the last thing I expected.

Yoongi doesn’t respond, he only smiles widely with his head rested gently on his hand. You tilt your head as his eyes scan yours, “What?” You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, wanting the world to swallow you up at the thought that you could have come across as weird or creepy by knowing so much about Yoongi’s career.

“You watch my performances?” He questions, his smile not dropping. A hint of pink brushes the tip of his nose.

“Of course,” you say almost incredulously, “you’re everywhere. It’s hard not to.”

“What’s your favorite song?” Yoongi presses, leaning forward to show you’ve piqued his interest.

Okay, there’s no way you’re going to let him think he has some sort of head over you.

“Cypher part 3.” you say confidently.

“Oh?”

“Mhm,” you hum, nibbling on the bottom of your lip for a moment before deciding to say why it was your favorite, “specifically the part where you say you’re a starfish feeding off the envy of others.”

“Ah, yes. Truly a fan favorite. You should hear the cheers when I explain what my tongue can do.” Yoongi whispers the latter half of his sentence, causing your throat to go dry. His tongue is skillful in many ways, not just rapping, and you were well aware of that. Decadence rested on the tip of his tongue, and you’d like to think that you contributed to his *ahem* practice.

He pulls away with a cheeky grin just as the waiter comes by with steaming plates of food.

The affect that his words had on you still amazes you to this day. Maybe he does have a head above you, and maybe you’re okay with that.

The rest of the dinner goes by with a breeze, the two of you laughing over drinks and trying each other’s food. It didn’t take long for you to fall into a comfortable fit with Yoongi, even though so much time had passed. It was like he never left, and he truly is still the same person he was before. He laughs the same, his shoulders shakes and his grin is always huge. Although his hair style changes and his fashion sense has gotten better, you still see the old Yoongi poking out whenever he laughed particularly hard.

Being face to face with him has allowed you to compare to the younger him, though. His face has slimmed and his voice has gotten deeper, the adam’s apple you kiss at night was larger than before and his neck was longer. Despite all that, he was still the same. Fame hadn’t changed him a bit.

The moment the check comes you snatch it up quickly.

“_____.” the way Yoongi says your name shoots a chill down your spine, but you ignore it when you slip your cash into the designated sleeve.

“Yoongi.” You mock, handing the sleeve back to the waitress who seems scared of Yoongi’s deep tone.

“I was supposed to pay.” He pouts, leaning back in the booth and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Be faster then.” You grin, standing up and crouching in front of Yoongi’s side.

He laughs, remembering your promise from earlier and slipping onto your back. The path you to through the kitchen is a bit less crowded now, but you felt the same amount of eyes on you the entire time. You felt much less embarrassed about it now, though, because Yoongi had a way of calming you down even at your worst points.

“The night is still young,” Yoongi speaks as he slips off of your back and unlocks his car, “would you like to revisit Yongsan Park?”

“Always.”

It wasn’t a far drive from the restaurant, and it was spent mostly talking about music and the new album that Yoongi was extremely proud of. Of course you had already listened to it but you didn’t want to take away from his excitement of showing you some of the songs.

When you made it to the park, the lights lining the jogging path were already on. You hadn’t expected it to be so dark yet but fall time always had a habit of sneaking up on you.

There was an intense rush of nostalgia associated with this park for the both of you. Nights where the two of you huddled close under the stars were spent here, right beneath the biggest tree in the park. It was unspoken that that was your spot, and you hadn’t been to it since you broke up.

Yet, muscle memory kicks in and both of your legs carry you right to the tree.

“Isn’t it funny how we spent so many nights here?” You bring up as you sit at the base of the tree.

Yoongi nods, “So many nights in this exact spot.”

“I love it here, it was our spot.”

Yoongi’s proximity to you is much closer than it should be but neither of you are making any move to change it. His shoulder brushes against yours and you resist the urge to rest your head on his shoulder.

“It still is.” He corrects, tapping your knee gently with his hand and resting in there.

You freeze for a moment, not knowing how to process his touch anymore but you can’t push him away. In fact, you’re relishing in the heat burning on your skin beneath his hand. It’s one of the best feelings in the world.

“Do you remember when you tried to scare me by climbing a tree and the branch broke?” Yoongi looks up, and you can tell he’s trying not to laugh at the memory.

“Yeah but that was because I was trying to get you back for pouring ice water on me when I fell asleep on my text book.” You roll your eyes at the memory, distinctly remembering the chill on your back while Yoongi cackled in your small one bedroom apartment.

That same cackle leaves Yoongi’s lips from beside you. You snap your head towards him, “Oh you think it’s funny still?”

“Yeah,” his laugh turns into a giggle, “you can still see the broken branch.”

“What?” You glance up, and sure enough the branch is still gone. Your jaw drops and you use your hands to push Yoongi over. He doesn’t fight you on it and falls with ease even though you didn’t use very much pressure at all, and you’re quick to try and wrestle him down. “It must be so funny,” you groan as you try to pin him down, straddling your legs on either side of his waist, “to still be pinned by- holy shit you’ve gotten strong.”

Yoongi takes his opportunity to flip the two of you over, switching positions and easily pinning your hands on either side of your head. Vaguely, you wonder how much time it took for him to gain so much strength, but your mind quickly shifts once you realize the precarious position that Yoongi has put you in.

Glancing down, you see his hips rest just above your navel, and images of the many nights you shared together flash through your mind. Rushed breathing and sweaty skin sticking together as you explored each other’s bodies and always found new ways to please each other. Briefly, a rush of heat flashes through your lower abdomen at the way your imagination flushes with possibilities of Yoongi’s touch.

You inhale, your chest heaving and Yoongi’s eyes fly to the way your cleavage displays itself for him. You’ve gotten fuller than before, and it suits you. He’s enjoying every second of it.

Before he can stop himself, he leans down and smashes his lips onto yours. The grip on your wrists loosen just enough for you to slip out and have your hands flying to his cheeks. He tastes the same as he did before, his smell intoxicating as it fills your nose. Your senses are overwhelmed with him, his tastes, his scent, the way his lips feel against yours. The familiarity is there, but they feel new and exciting at the same time, like you were pushed back to your youth.

He exhales against you as if he’s been waiting all night to do just this. Slipping his legs out from beneath him, he presses his chest against yours as your hands slide to the back of his neck to hold him against you. The rest of the world falls, dissolving into nothing. You keen helplessly as you feel him grind against you, and that noise seems to push Yoongi over the edge. He growls into your mouth, pulling away to start his descent onto your neck with bites and licks in all the places you loved before.

Arching into him, your hands loop through his black locks with a gasp as his tongue licks at your wine kissed collarbones.

This is everything you’ve been wishing for. Everything feels so right.

Yet, it’s wrong. You need to stop him. You need to ask him to pull away. But you can’t. He feels too fucking good. It’s not until he reaches the stop of your chest, his fingers hesitantly reaching at your collar does he look into your eyes for permission.

And you stop him.

“I- I think I need to go have a very uncomfortable conversation with Junwoo.” You state, and Yoongi’s face drops.

“I can’t believe you still managed to think about him when I was kissing you.” He says nearly incredulously, crawling off of you and leaning his back against the tree again. His chest is rising and falling faster than before, showing that your affect on him was much stronger than you previously had thought.

Your heart twinged at Yoongi’s cold tone. You swallow, “If you think there’s a possibility of us continuing this, I have to end things with Junwoo.”

Yoongi whines, “Why now?”

You let out a little giggle, sitting up and leaning your head on his shoulder like you wanted to before. “Even if I didn’t do it right now, I don’t think we could go any further in the middle of a park.”

“I thought you liked exhibitionism.” Yoongi leans to the side, kissing you once again. It’s much breathier than before, and he prays that you don’t feel his heart pounding wildly in his rib cage at the mere thought of someone catching the two of you outside.

You gasp into the kiss and force yourself to pull away even though you didn’t want to at all. Giving him a look, Yoongi sighs.

“Okay, okay. I’ll drive you home so you can have that uncomfortable conversation.” He mutters, standing up and pulling you with him. He’s much more touchy than before, his arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders while he guides you back to his car.

The conversation you’re about to have with Junwoo will truly be one of the most anxiety inducing things you’ve ever done.

~*~*~

The dorms are dark when Yoongi arrives back. The living room in which everyone has a tendency to congregate after a particularly grueling practice day holds no one, a small reminder that everyone finally got some well deserved rest.

He hums softly to the tune of ‘People’, one of his favorite songs from his recent mixtape and opens the fridge to grab a bottle of water. When he closes it, Jimin is standing on the other side.

Yoongi jumps, “Jesus fucking christ, Park Jimin!”

“Didja get back together with her?”

“What?” Yoongi takes a second to assess Jimin’s pajama clad body, “N- no. We just hung out.”

“It’s a shame,” Jimin reaches forward and grabs the water bottle from Yoongi’s hand, “I heard you humming so I figured you finally got laid.” Yoongi opens his mouth to protest but Jimin continues before he can, “You know, I’ve known you for so long and I don’t think you’ve ever had a woman sign an NDA? Have you even had sex since you broke up with the pretty nurse?”

“I feel like that’s none of your business.” Yoongi yanks the water bottle back, opening it and praying that Jimin didn’t backwash.

“But it is my business because I have no clue how you did it. I’m sure she was fucking other guys regularly. I hear it’s bad for women to go without sex because they turn into-” Yoongi attempts to drown out the sounds of his roommate, his hand gripping the counter top tightly with unwanted images of you in another man’s bed ripping through his brain, “-and I’ve always wondered what it was like to only ever have your hand to get yourself off. Is it lonely? How much porn do you-”

“Jimin!” Yoongi shouts.

“Cutting me off is awfully rude, don’t you think?”

“Shut. the. fuck. up.” Yoongi grits his teeth, moving to walk away as Jimin laughs.

“Called it! I knew you were a born again virgi-”

“Goodnight!” Yoongi calls back, walking up to his room and locking the door behind him. He plops down onto his bed, the TV situated perfectly level with his bed. It’s a stark contrast to the small black and white TV he could afford all those years ago, so the familiar sound of his TV sounding on brings a smile to his face as he realizes yet again how fortunate he’s become.

Now he’s determined to make sure you feel the same sense of fortune that he has. Because he has you back in his life. Was it a twist of fate or the inevitability of soulmates, Yoongi isn’t sure. However, he’s immensely grateful to have you back, even if you’re not truly his yet.

~*~*~

"I’m breaking up with you.”

“What?!”

You cover your mouth as the unexpected sentence leaves your mouth. Junwoo sits in his office with his fists clenched tightly on top of his desk. He’s never been particularly good at hearing bad news, and even though it’s only been a few months you feel as though you’re signing divorce papers judging my his reaction.

It’s been two days since you last saw Yoongi. You put off speaking to Junwoo for a little bit to try and figure out exactly what you were going to say to him. You had a whole speech ready, talking about how he deserves better and that he’ll find his soulmate eventually.

But when the moment came, your speech was practically thrown to the ceiling fan and torn into a million pieces.

“W- why? What did I do?” Junwoo asks, he seems more angry than anything which you didn’t expect.

“You didn’t do anything,” you sigh, plopping in the seat on the other side of his desk, “I just don’t think it’s going to work out.”

“Everything was going so well!” Oh god, he’s yelling. “It’s that fucker Suga’s fault, isn’t it? He’s putting you up to this!”

“Fucking hell, Junwoo! How old are you, honestly? Immediately assuming that it was Yoongi is the most childish thing you could have done.” It is Yoongi, though. You know that, and unfortunately Junwoo knows that as well. It isn’t in good conscience to deny his allegations but you can’t help but do so.

Though, the inevitability of your relationship ending would have happened with out without Yoongi’s push.

“Well excuse me for thinking you would fuck a member of the biggest band on the planet! For God’s sake, any whore would drop their pants for one of them.”

Your jaw drops, “I didn’t fuck him.”

Junwoo rolls his eyes, “Are you sure? Because it’s almost like I could smell the stench coming off of you.”

You place your tongue in your cheek, biting back a response. Should have figured the man wouldn’t know how to take a break up.

Then, you laugh, “Okay. You got me, I fucked him.”

“I knew it.” Junwoo’s nostrils flare.

“Hundreds of times, eight years ago,” You spit, standing up quick enough for the chair behind you to tip over. “it wasn’t working out anyway and clearly that’s for the best. The last thing I need is a chauvinist asshole who refuses to see what was right in front of him.”

“I-”

“No,” you put your hand up, “I’m done.”

You turn around swiftly, walking out of his office and ignoring the stares from his receptionists. Surely they heard the yelling and the last thing you needed was to feel judged.

Except you weren’t being judged. Just before you reached the elevator, one of the girls spoke out. “You’re the second break up he’s had this week, don’t feel bad.”

You turn around, watching her flick vivaciously through a magazine. “What was that?” You speak slowly, turning around walking up to the desk.

“Another woman came by earlier this week, she said he’s been fucking some nurse behind her back and threw a ring at him.” She shrugs, then leans forward with a whisper, “You’re better off without him.”

You scoff, “and I had the decency to break up with him before I fucked someone else. Thanks for the tip, darling.”

As soon as the elevator doors close, you whip out your phone and text Yoongi.

To: Suga Delivered: 13:52

Deed is done if you still want me to come by

You make it to your car and hear your phone ding.

From: Suga Received: 13:57

I’ll meet you outside

Your heart flutters, so you start your car and drive as quickly as you can towards the directions of the dorm. It’s not hard, everyone in Seoul is keenly aware of where BTS stay, but there’s an unspoken rule that nobody is to bother them. One of the things you enjoyed most about this whole situation is the amount of respect they boys have earned, and you couldn’t feel more proud of Yoongi.

The gated group of buildings is intimidating to say the least, but you’re unable to contain your excitement as you pull up. Yoongi is a few feet away, waving from the other side of the gate as he presses a few buttons before you hear the gate click and begin to side open.

Your excitement over simply seeing him is nearly too much to contain. A week ago you struggled to not get nauseous at the thought of him seeing you but now you didn’t know how you ever made it without him. Inching your car forward became an arduous task because it took precious seconds away from you being able to kiss Yoongi once again.

So, you throw your car into park as the gates slip closed behind you and run out of your car to jump towards Yoongi.

He catches you, immediately slamming your lips onto his. It’s soft this time, the urgency isn’t there but he doesn’t mind the feeling of your hands gently tugging at his hair and scratching his scalp.

“Mm,” he hums against your lips, “does this mean you’re mine again?”

“With some adjustments to both of our lives,” you smile, “and making time for each other, then I’m willing to try again.”

“Good,” he grins, “let me take you inside and show you how much I’m gonna try.”

He slides you down his torso and grabs your hand, yanking you closely behind him. You let out a quiet yelp as he does so, following him into the building and welcoming the warmth that greets you. You’re lead through a long hallway but are stopped abruptly once Yoongi spots Hoseok walking through the living room.

“Hey pretty nurse, and Yoongi.” Hoseok says without looking up, and Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief.

You give him a questioning look but shake it off when Yoongi leads you up a lot of stairs and straight to his bedroom.

“Okay, there’s two ways this can go-” Yoongi slips his shirt over his head and you try to process everything as it’s happening because holy shit you’re going to fuck Yoongi for the first time in years and might actually be able to have an orgasm “-slow and steady or hard and fast.”

“Save the romance for next time,” you giggle, slipping your dress over your head and falling backwards onto his bed, “I haven’t had you inside me in years. Hard and fast.”

He chuckles, “You got it baby.”

He jumps on top of you, his hand flying to your thigh to steady your leg as he grinds his still clothed cock into your core. He’s already hard, and you’re already dripping. The last two days you spent not being near him was the most difficult thing you had experienced because you knew what was coming and how he was going to do it.

And you’re loving every second of it.

Spreading your legs wide, you reach between the two of you and play with the hem of his boxers. He groans into your mouth, inching upward so your hand slips further in, “No teasing, baby girl. Hard and fast.”

“Right, yes. I’m sorry.” you bite his bottom lip before lifting your hips and feeling his hands loop on either side of your panties to slip them down your legs. He drops between your legs immediately and inhales your scent, tossing his head back in pleasure.

“Fuck, just like I remember.” Yoongi dives back, his nose brushing against your aching clit while his tongue darts out and licks your quivering hole. You let out a quiet moan but are quick to cover your mouth as you remember there are six other men on the other side of these thin walls.

The pleasure of knowing that he remembers your scent is enough to send you feral, your back arching off the bed as his lips finally wrap around your clit and sucks hard. The obscene sound of him drinking in your juices fills the room, his groans against your core sending chills up your spine. If there was anything you knew about Min Yoongi, it’s that he knew how to use his tongue.

You fill your core begin to heat up as your orgasm builds and before you know it, you’re uncovering your mouth and letting out a moan loud enough to be heard for miles.

Yoongi can’t help but smirk against you as he drinks in your release, moving to trail kisses up your abdomen as you come down from the pleasure.

“You ready for more?” He kisses your lips, and it’s then that you notice his cock his gloriously hard against his stomach, boxers long discarded.

“Please, yes. Please please plea-”

“Alright, hold your horses.” Yoongi jokes, brushing the head of his cock against your slit a few times teasingly.

You pout, “You said no teasing.”

He nods, “I can’t help it. Your face is so cute when you’re begging for my cock.”

As you’re thinking of a rebuttal, Yoongi finally slips inside. Both of you moan in pleasure at the clenching of your core. He remembers exactly how to move to get you to gasp, how deep to move to get you to clench, and he remembers what each of your movements mean. Your nails currently dig into his back harshly but he doesn’t complain, because that means his thrusts are going at just the right speed.

He wishes you can scream like you used to, but he realizes how weird that could be for his bandmates to hear. However, he can’t say that he necesarily minds all things considered. He’d love for Jimin to hear what he’s doing to you after the way his smart mouth moved the other night. He could imagine his face as he listens, but then Yoongi is dragged back to the moment when he feels you clench particularly hard.

You feel him tensing more and more, struggling to hold on as your vice grip on him tightens even further. The soft sponge of your warm cunt is nearly too much for him to bare, and as you feel your second orgasm approach, you grip Yoongi’s face in your hands, “Cum for me. Please.” His eyes flutter closed and he begins to thrust faster, lips on yours and sweat building on both of your foreheads. Then, your second orgasm washes over you deliciously, Yoongi’s hips stuttering before he follows with his own release, his cum coating your walls white. He’s still for a moment, gasping above you. When you reach up and brush the hair from his forehead, he collapses on top of you, “Fuck, that’s even better than I remembered.”

“Good,” you giggle, kissing his nose, “because there’s so much more I want to try with you.”

His heart flutters irrevocably, knocking the wind out of him when he realizes that you’re in this for the long run just as he is. This time he swears he’s going to make it work, and he plans on spending the rest of his life with you.

His lips brush against you once again, then he speaks.

“Write me a list, baby girl.”

#ty for reading!!#min yoongi #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi #suga #bts #suga x reader #suga x reader smut #yoongi x reader smut #min yoongi x reader smut #suga x reader fluff #yoongi x reader fluff

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mtraki · 4 years ago

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Brain chemistry is messing with me... got me in the bad feels looking at dark roads... So let’s try and drag ourselves out of it through hyperfixation! It’s time to rant about Agent 47′s brain chemistry-- specifically all the serums and antidotes that artificially change it! (It’s a rant... I won’t take up space on your dashboard scroll if you don’t want to see it, but if you do, please check out under the cut. Spoilers for the comics and Hitman Season 2-3 are unmarked...)

The focus of the rant is thus: “Exactly what did Ether’s antidote do?” ‘That’s easy, MT,’ I hear you tell me, ‘It brought back 47′s memories that were wiped by Ort-Meyer before he escaped the lab.’ Forgive me, strawman Reader, (but as always, thank you for your faithful engagement) but I don’t think it’s that simple... Maybe because I overthink things, or maybe because the details aren’t adding up... Let’s discuss. In the cutscene in HITMAN 2 (Hitman Season 2) ‘Long Shot’, Olivia and Lucas provide a syringe from Ether Biotech Corporation. According to their information, Ort-Meyer’s estate and his research were granted to the corporation (through Providence) after his passing. The syringe is supposed to be an antidote to what Ort-Meyer used to wipe 47′s memory. Using the syringe, 47 is able to remember Janus, the first Constant of Providence, so they can go get his info on the Partners... and kill him. ‘Yes, MT,’ you say, ‘so it’s easy. The answer is right there.’ Well, please bear with me... In the next cutscene ‘Gifts and Curses’, our leading ladies Diana and Olivia are doing the real work (tracking Janus’s coffin) while our lads are being moody. Lucas asks 47 if he’s all right and 47 says, “It comes back in flashes. Fear. Anger. But like it happened to someone else.” Later, in ‘Precautions’, Lucas and Diana talk about how Lucas has feelings about the things he’s done, and 47 does not-- a parallel is drawn between these feelings and “having a conscience”. In ‘The Ark Society’ mission, on the Isle of Sgàil, as you’re marching Arthur Edwards, the Constant you are abducting, to the harbor, he’ll fish around for information by giving some of his own. For the purposes of my rant, there is an exchange I want to focus on: Edwards: “...Your murdered him [Janus] to get to me.” 47: “Not just that. He had it coming.” Edwards: “Interesting. It was my impression that you were cured of such... sentiment. The ‘good doctor’ built his serum specifically to target the seats of your emotions. Has Miss Burnwood’s sense of justice rubbed off on you, I wonder?” This is where I feel the need to stop and point out that there are TWO DIFFERENT SERUMS at play here, that were forced on 47 at TWO DIFFERENT TIMES in his forgotten past. This is shown in the comic series. SERUM #1) This serum was given in 1989, after 47 and 6 failed to take over the Institute. 47 sacrificed himself so 6 could escape (though he was presumed dead) and instead of being killed like he expected, due to pressure from Janus (who spoke as Constant for the Partners of Providence) Ort-Meyer instead used a serum to stifle his and the remaining clones’ emotions. This one was an injection to the neck (like the antidote). Here are his exact words: “I gave you something most people lack: a true purpose. And you cast it aside. For some misguided dream of freedom. Why?” “It’s that storm inside you. All those feelings I fought so hard to lock away. Raging, driving you. So now I must wipe them out entirely. A small chemical insult designed to target the amygdala, the hypothalamus, the cingulate gyrus. The seats of emotion. I’ve just sawed the legs off them. Do you understand, 47?” “Your memories remain intact. But now they’re a series of events with no significance.” The effects of this serum were devastating. With the singular exception of 47, every other clone more or less lost the will to live. They died of starvation, dehydration, infected bed sores... losing any and all motivation for anything. Meanwhile, 47 became an apex predator of murder, stating that the opportunity to complete the assassinations handed down by Providence through Ort-Meyer were the reason he went through each day. He had a hand in the deaths of a good number of clones, either via poisoning or smothering. SERUM #2) This serum was given in 1998 (that’s nine years after the first one) after Providence demands Ort-Meyer give them 47 as the only success of his very expensive perceived failure. Ort-Meyer gives this serum, without the permission of Providence, very specifically so that 47 will not remember him to assassinate him. This serum is given orally, and through a hose and pump apparatus. Here are his exact words: “I only need one more day, and a moment alone.” (This is included strictly to point out that 47 must have escaped that exact same day) “I raised you as my own. Taught you everything you needed to thrive in this fallen world. And now I have to take it all away. You would come after me. It’s the only way I can be free from having to watch over my shoulder for the rest of my life. It feels like drowning at first. Don’t struggle. I’m going to make you perfect. Now you have all the potential in the world.” 47 wakes up later to the voice of Ort-Meyer over the intercom. He implicitly trusts the voice, as he knows nothing else. He knows about the existence of nothing outside of the room and the voice. He starts making associations as he goes on, and points out that he understands how some things work (”The mechanics of breathing, the science that makes remotely operated restraints possible.”) and the justifications behind their existence (”Somewhere deep down, I even understand the need for them.”). As he makes his escape, he observes that their is familiarity in the sensations of killing. Out in the world, he continues killing on his own for about a year, claiming that his work is his only indulgence and that he doesn’t need things, friends, or stories. He does also claim to have a few stray memories that haunt him-- elicit emotional responses in him (which we also see in Absolution with the whole “doctors” flashbacks). Edwards should not know about the mind-wiping, and his dialogue does not betray that he does. Lucas apparently knows about both, but I’m going to attribute this to “Lucas became personally invested in learning what happened to 47 specifically after learning he was alive and working for ICA, so put the pieces together once he stole the data from Providence” because he wasn’t around for either serum. Meanwhile, Edwards doesn’t have many reasons to worry about 47 until he starts trying to use his past as a lure for Diana. Because his angle is to eventually reveal that it was 47 (AND 6... they were on the job together, per the comics) who killed her parents, and the fact that that juicy reveal would hurt that much more if he could reveal it as something 47 knowingly hid from her... I don’t think he’d go out of his way to discredit Janus’s reporting on the situation that only the first serum was given, and something else happened that allowed 47 to escape into the wild. Janus is apparently Edwards’s beloved mentor, after all. ‘MT,’ I hear you say, ‘You’re rambling. What’s the point here?’ The point is that 47, a man who does not mince words, makes the observation, when asked, that he remembers fear and anger. These are the things that stand out to him in his memories. The emotions. This is in violation of the first serum’s properties as well as the second. Now, why is this happening? Perhaps the first serum has an effective lifespan, and perhaps it’s wearing off. Perhaps 47′s human (arguably superhuman, per some sources) brain is adapting to make necessary associations despite the “chemical insult”. Or... was this antidote supposed to also be an antidote for the first serum? It is noteworthy that 47 starts behaving in ways that suggest more emotionally-driven motivations after the antidote is given-- at least it seems that way to me. This seems especially the case at the very end of HITMAN 3 (Season 3), ‘Untouchable’, when 47 is confronted with his guilt, with his feelings about what he perceives Diana’s thoughts and feelings to be, and with his choice in the end concerning Edwards in the final confrontation. No matter what he chooses, he owns his choice and all the baggage and consequences that come with it. At the very end, in the cutscene 'New Deal', he tells Diana that he isn’t ‘Agent 47′ anymore. That he chooses this path because he can. Perhaps I’m very much misunderstanding the themes, here, but 47 not remembering his past never struck me as something that held him back from choosing something else. It has always been his inability to connect with others in any way outside of infiltrating their spaces and killing them... with very, very few exceptions... that has kept him from choosing a path outside of murder-for-hire (perfectly executed, of course ;) ) So I’m left at the end with the conclusion that 47 is now able to operate as his own conscience because he now has a... mostly usable independent sense of morality-- which requires a certain level of empathy. So... again: what’s the deal with the antidote? Is it two-in-one? This would be fine, (Okay, not really, I would then have to rant about how this only makes sense as a convenient plot device because for which person BESIDES Agent 47 would such an antidote be useful unless they also work with the first serum... and oh boy IMPLICATIONS... I know we keep crashing their stock but can we crash their production too?) except the antidote is only referenced as working to return 47′s memory... and his ‘warmer’ dialogues through the end of 2 and into 3 with his allies is simply treated as matter of course-- nobody points it out. I don’t know if this is a problem with my perspective, the writing, or what... But it seems like Lucas knows and doesn’t know about both serums at the same time (he comments specifically about 47 remembering things... but not him behaving more emotionally engaged)... Or like the games smooshed both serums together while the comics had them separate. This isn’t like the whole “we don’t talk about Absolution though we do wink and nod that it mostly happened in canon” thing. The comics were written as a companion for the HITMAN: World of Assassination trilogy! I know how I’m treating it for 'Monstrous’ (because if I don’t, I’ll go crazy and rage-quit the fic) but it still bothers me... Anybody got any ideas? Nuggets of lore I missed? Am I the only one stressing out about this??

#my mic #agent 47 #hitman #lucas grey #world of assassination #MT is ranting #I know I overthink #13th #April #2021 #April 13th 2021

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spaceskam · 4 years ago

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From A Whisper To A Scream (7/10)

Summary: Michael caves.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: syringes, blood, etc

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

ao3

Coach pulled Michael aside after debatably the worst game of his life.

“What’s going on with you?” he demanded.

Michael stared at him, blinking slowly as he tried to reorient his mind. Ever since he discovered that Eff was really a Manes, that this “family business” they had was torturing aliens, he hadn’t been functioning very well. It’d only gotten worse after Alex called him out and Michael couldn’t tell him no, suddenly having to balance a very hush-hush relationship on top of everything else. He adored him, but fuck. Now he was just paranoid and tired. That was it. Everything else, every other feeling or brain wave, fell to the wayside because he didn’t have the energy.

That meant playing a shitty game of football where he nearly broke his nose from tripping over the ball.

“I’m just… off day,” Michael said, avoiding eye contact as he took out his mouthguard. He then moved to start taking off his jersey and his shoulder pads. He usually wouldn’t do that while in the middle of the conversation with his Coach, but they felt ridiculously heavy and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay upright with them.

“Off month, more like it,” Coach said, eyeing him, “You know you’re my responsibility, right?”

“Yes, Coach.”

“Then tell me what’s going on,” he said. Michael stayed silent. He couldn’t tell him what was actually going on and he didn’t have the brainpower to come up with a good lie. “Is this about anything that happened with your whole… coming out process? You’d tell me if any of the guys were messing with you, wouldn’t you? And if it’s your dad that ain’t responding well, then I can have a talk with him too.”

Michael blinked at him and it took him a few seconds to realize he had tears in his eyes. It wasn’t even a heartfelt speech, it was just too much. Too much to know another person cared about him enough to say something, too much to know that his list of people who would be hurt by his stupidity was a bit longer. He was beginning to think that maybe he should just tell everyone he was an alien so they’d stop giving a shit about him.

“It’s fine, I’m just off. Distracted,” Michael said. Coach didn’t look satisfied.

“You got scouts out there,” he said, “So you better stop being distracted.”

And that sounded a lot more like Coach.

When Michael walked out to his truck, he found that it was already preoccupied. It wasn’t too uncommon for him to find a Manes in his passenger seat. This just happened to be the Manes he was dreading.

“I thought you were good,” Eff said as Michael carefully climbed into the driver’s seat. It felt like a trick, but maybe he could drive off a cliff and fix everything. Ah, but that was just wishful thinking.

“I am,” Michael said, “Usually.”

“Guess you should’ve thought about that before you tried to corrupt my baby brother,” Eff said. Michael stared out the window and made a point not to say anything about how Eff had been screwing him over before he realized he was with Alex. He seemed to momentarily forget that this had all started because Michael was born. That was it.

“Shed?”

“Yep.”

Michael stayed silent through the drive as he had been these days. For a while there, he’d sort of accepted his fate and was starting to be a bit more talkative. Hell, he’d even gotten to a point where he thought Eff might give a shit about his well being. Now he knew that was just wishful thinking. Every conversation they had that may have given the illusion that Eff didn't hate him was just a figment of his imagination.

“Is your dad gonna question where you are?” Eff asked. Is yours? Michael thought.

“No,” he said instead.

Eff huffed a laugh, “My dad would kick my ass if I showed up later than I said.” It almost felt childish at that point, like Eff was trying to get him in trouble with his dad. It was so stupid.

The longer Michael drove, the more he thought that perhaps he shouldn’t be driving. His eyes were heavy and each blink seemed harder to come out of. Still, he somehow made it to the shed without driving off the road.

They entered the shed in silence and Michael sat on his chair-of-hell where all of his injections and electrocutions took place. Maybe whatever Eff had in store would wake him up.

“Here,” Eff said. Michael lulled his head to the side to look at him, seeing him holding out an energy drink that had already been opened.

“Did you poison it or something?” Michael asked. Eff laughed softly.

“No, just drink it,” he said. Michael hesitantly accepted it and took a sip, deciding that if it was poisoned he wouldn’t really care. Eff sat down across from him and stared at him for a moment. Somehow, it was infinitely less uncomfortable than all the times Michael looked over his shoulder in school and expected to see him there when he wasn’t. “Look, I hate even saying this, but credit where credit is due. I appreciate you ending shit with my brother. Alex is great, I get it, and it took balls to break up with him when I know he probably didn't make it easy."

Michael felt a bit frozen in his spot. That was an understatement. Such a massive understatement that Michael hadn't been able to pull it off at all.

"I don't like knowing that aliens have, like, feelings and shit," Eff continued, looking to the side as if this conversation was just that unbearable. And he had no idea how unbearable it was for Michael himself. "But I do know you care about him which I can respect. But that shit's not safe, not with you being what you are and not with my dad being who he is. You get that, don't you?"

"Why does it feel like you're being nice to me?" Michael asked. He was beginning to wonder if he really had no self-preservation skills at all. Eff rolled his eyes.

"You just picked the wrong guy. I wanted to keep Alex away from all this," Eff elaborated, "So pick someone else."

Somehow, as genuine as he sounded, it still felt like a low blow. Michael couldn't pick someone else. Even if he had broken up with Alex, even if he never liked him in the first place, he was still a personal experiment for Eff. Anyone who got close to him wasn't safe. So that was that.

"Yeah," Michael said.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Michael sipping tiredly on his drink and Eff just watching him like he was trying to decide where to start. Who knew what kind of shit he had up his sleeve that he hadn't done yet.

Eff eventually stood up in silence and Michael's eyes followed him, watching him open up the small mini-fridge and pull out a vile of something. Dread pooled in Michael's stomach. He wasn't sure what Eff had dosed him with that time where it had him fucked up for a solid week, but he wasn't interested in a repeat.

"When's the last time you slept?" Eff asked. Michael shrugged because he didn't have a proper answer. He slept all the time, but he wasn't sure the 10-minute sleep session due to sheer exhaustion before he woke himself up in a panic actually counted as sleep. "Yeah, that's a problem. This is gonna help you sleep."

"Here?" Michael asked, eyes widening just a little.

"Does it look like I have a place for you to sleep? Take it and I'll take you home, it should kick in by the time you get to bed and it'll knock you out for, like, eight hours," Eff said. Michael didn't have the energy to say no. Sleeping for eight hours straight sounded amazing.

He turned his head as Eff rolled up his sleeve and wiped the spot of his arm like he was actually concerned for him. He stuck him with a syringe and Michael could feel the moment it started to set in.

"I'm driving," Eff said as if that wasn't already obvious.

Michael tried to stand to his feet, but he felt woozy and held onto the chair to steady himself. Eff eventually stepped up to him and grabbed his arm, carrying the brunt of his weight.

"Jesus, what did my brother see in you?"

Eff got him into the passenger side of his truck and closed the door and Michael couldn't find it in himself to care that Eff was driving his truck. He was just tired.

The drive home passed in a blur and Michael felt himself being pulled out of his truck before he could even register it. He leaned on Eff without thought and let himself be all but carried inside and placed in bed by the man who had made it his goal to torture him. He was covered up and his keys were placed on his desk and the doors were all locked back.

Michael fell into a dreamless sleep for the first time in a long time.

The next morning, Michael was left running over the night before in his head.

Truly, none of it made sense. Eff wasn't just empathetic like he'd been on occasions when he realized Michael had feelings, he'd actually been kind. Was it his small payback for Michael ending things with Alex? Was it something else entirely? He probably wouldn't get an answer.

Michael stayed in bed for a while, letting his mind torture him with too many thoughts as he tried to analyze Eff's actions. It didn't work. And, in fact, the sleep didn't help him feel any better. It just made him alert enough to be back to panicking. There were so many things that could and would go bad. He was on borrowed time. Before he knew it, shit would hit the fan and he just wasn't excited for that.

Sanders kept quiet, just watching him and making sure he didn't become a disaster before his eyes. The day slid by at an agonizing pace. But it was fine.

He texted Alex a little bit--through an app instead of on his actual phone which had taken more than a little convincing than he wanted to admit, but he wasn't about to risk Eff finding out.

Alex: you ignoring me again?

Michael: no, how could I?

Alex: big talk coming from you

Michael: :(

Alex: when can I see you? I feel like I've earned at least a couple blowjobs

Alex: payback for being a dick to me

Michael: I'll do whatever you want. Maybe we can meet up somewhere tomorrow night?

Alex: my dad isn't going to be home until Tuesday just sneak in

Michael: idk if that's a good idea

Alex: okay.

Michael: don't be mad

Alex: not mad, all I said was okay

Michael: which is code for mad.

Alex: okay.

Michael: I'll see what I can do. I miss you

Alex: I miss you too

And it was fine. Alex got a little less upset and it was fine. Or it was until he got a text from Eff. All it said was: Rest. Tomorrow is a full-day affair. And that was enough to scare the shit out of him.

He didn't know what classified as a full-day affair to Eff, but it didn't matter. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. It was going to be a day of misery. How many more things could he get through and survive it?

As much as he tried to rest, it didn't work. Michael was nervous and dreading whatever was to come. By the time morning came around once again and that car was outside waiting for him, Michael hadn't slept.

"Are you ready?" Eff asked as he mindlessly climbed into the passenger seat. He took a deep breath.

"Yeah."

"Michael. Michael, wake up."

There were very few times in Michael's life where he'd describe himself as overworked. Out of all of those times, he'd never drained himself to the point that he passed out. He supposed there was a first time for everything.

When his eyes slowly dragged open, he was more than a little surprised to see Eff over him and almost looking concerned. It almost had him laughing if he wasn't so disoriented.

"You can't fucking die on me yet," Eff said once he opened his eyes. Michael didn't move. His body felt weak and he was pretty sure his muscles had melted into the ground. He wanted to go home.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"You've only been doing shit for a couple of hours, you've strained yourself more than this before. That sedative I gave you on Friday shouldn't still be in your system," Eff said. He grabbed Michael's arms and hauled him into a sitting position, but Michael couldn't hold his own weight up and Eff eventually let him lay back down. "What are you good for if you're just going to let yourself be this useless?"

Michael's eyes slid closed and he tried to think of anything except for this.

He expected more scolding, more yelling, possibly an injection of whatever sort of wild alien steroid he had today. Instead, Eff pressed the back of his hand against Michael’s forehead then to his cheeks. He might’ve opened his eyes to look at him like he’d lost it if he wasn’t so fucking exhausted.

“You’re overheated. Your nose bled a little, but not as much as I would’ve expected before you passed out, so I guess that’s a good thing. We’ll take a break,” Eff said, voice careful. He stood up and walked away, leaving Michael on the floor.

Sometimes, if Michael really thought about it, he wondered if Eff knew that he was basically making him stronger. Yes, draining him in the moment and making him feel weak and out of control, but Michael had never had someone push his limits before when it came to this. Maybe if Michael played nice, he’d be able to overpower him one day, hide the body, and get his normal life back. He could. It was an option.

It was an option. Huh. That was nice.

A hand grabbed the back of Michael’s neck, supporting him as he was dragged into a sitting position once again. That hand stayed there as a cup of water met his lips and he was all but forced to drink. He had a million questions running through his head, all tying back to wondering why the hell Eff was treating him nicely all of the sudden. Maybe he actually felt bad for once. Probably not.

“If you die, my brother will probably be more upset than he already is, so I’m gonna need you to drink,” Eff said dryly. Michael obeyed.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. Eff let him rest for a short amount of time before dragging him outside again to push his limits again. A little electrotherapy here, a bit of pinpricks there, and he had Michael throwing shit with his telekinesis over three hundred pounds. Michael would’ve been proud if his body wasn’t aching and his brain wasn’t pointless.

When he finally got to go home and the day settled in, Michael was back to being a mess. Eff was being nice to him. Too nice. He was planning something, he had to be. Was he going to kidnap him anyway? Was this just the beginning of the end, trying to make him trust him?

Michael forgot all about meeting up with Alex until he found himself outside his window which would’ve been a lot less worrisome if he remembered anything in between leaving the shed and ending up there. Even when he tried to remember, he couldn’t.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to come over,” Alex said, leaning against the windowsill and blocking Michael’s way in.

Truthfully, Michael had only been to Alex’s house a total of two times, both just to stop by so Alex could grab something and they didn’t stay long. Now knowing what kind of business his family was in, Michael was glad he hadn’t stayed. And yet, today, all he wanted was to be in Alex’s bed. He was going to get fucked over anyway.

“Can you just hold me for a while?” Michael asked. Any sort of antagonizing Alex had in mind went away and he nodded, moving out of the way. Michael climbed in and nearly fell twice in the process, not even able to laugh it off when he needed Alex’s help.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Michael was pulled into Alex’s arms. His head was cradled against Alex’s shoulder, he was tugged down onto his bed, he was held and he was warm and he was safe. Safe enough. As safe as he would get.

They laid there for a long while, nothing but the sound of their breathing as Alex combed through his hair. Michael faded in and out of consciousness at the sensation, secretly hoping to just let his mind fade away forever into the feeling. That would be a good way to go.

But, then again, he couldn’t have anything nice.

“Michael,” Alex whispered, “When are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Michael didn’t respond, but his grip on Alex tightened a little and that seemed to be all Alex needed to know there was, in fact, something going on. He readjusted himself a little and touched Michael’s cheek. It took a few seconds to successfully get him to meet his eyes.

“I’m not stupid. Something’s been going on, but I’ve stayed quiet. How much longer are you gonna leave me having to assume? Because my assumptions are getting wilder,” Alex said, trying to tease a little to lighten the mood.

The issue was the truth was wild. How do you tell your boyfriend you’re actually an alien from the 1940s and you’re currently being used as an experiment by his big brother who he loves? Alex would laugh in his face or just leave him. Or maybe Eff was wrong and Alex did know and Alex would start experimenting on him too. He could take a lot, but he didn’t think he could take that.

Michael sniffled and focused on Alex’s collarbone, reaching out to touch it. He ran his fingers over it a few times and hoped Alex would just drop it.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Alex said softly, “But you know you can trust me, don’t you? I’m not going to hate you or be disgusted by you or anything. I might even be able to help?”

Michael’s throat began to tighten and he swallowed hard. He thought about Eff and his weird niceness and how he’d probably make him disappear soon, how Michael probably didn’t have much time left with Alex at all. How did he get in the position where he once had all the time in the world to having none at all?

He dragged his hand up to touch Alex’s lips. They were as soft as always and his breath was warm against his fingertips. He couldn’t remember the last time he kissed him. Hell, he could barely remember the last time they’d been able to spend this much time together in person. Then again, this had been one of the longest weeks of his life. Longest few months. Or, just nothing before it felt real.

Michael moved up to give him a kiss, one that was hardly a kiss at all and seemed to only be reciprocated because of how long it’d been. Alex broke it seconds after it started, shaking his head.

“Michael,” he whispered, “You‒”

“I love you,” Michael said earnestly.

Alex let out a shaky breath. It shouldn’t have been such a hard thing to say and he probably could’ve said it sooner. He knew most of the people he’d been friends with who said ‘I love you’ within the first month of dating someone‒the first week, even.

This just happened to be a bit more serious than that.

“I’m not saying that because of… I’m saying it because I mean it. Because I don’t know when or if I’ll get to tell you later. I want you to know just in case,” Michael said. Alex’s eyebrows only tugged together more and he scooted closer.

“Just in case? What do you mean? What’s going on?” Alex said, worry lacing his soft and sweet voice. God, he was so good. He couldn’t possibly know. He couldn’t possibly be in on the bullshit his family enacted.

“I should go.”

“What? No, stop,” Alex said, his knee wedging between Michael’s thighs to lock his leg around his at a weak attempt to keep in place. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Michael said, relaxing back into his bed. He was too tired to really try to leave even if he wanted to. And he really, really didn’t.

“It’s obviously not nothing and you’re freaking me out,” Alex said, looking him over, “I was assuming it was something to do with your adoption or something and you were playing it straight for your social worker, but that’s obviously not it.”

Michael sighed and blinked slowly, tempted to just keep his eyes closed. When he opened them again, Alex was just staring at him.

“Next assumption was that you got into drugs. Have you? And if you have, let me help you,” Alex pressed, “Let me and your dad help you. You know he asked me what was wrong with you, right? Like, everyone’s noticed. So, just, like, stop talking like you’re never going to see me again. Let me fix it.”

Michael laughed dryly and turned his face into the pillow before he started crying where Alex could see. What was it with Alex and Sanders both being so eager to fix what they had no hand in? It didn’t make sense.

“Did you like accidentally fuck over a drug dealer or something and that’s why you’ve been staying away from me and distant and paranoid? Because we can go to the police and, and figure it out,” Alex continued, “You’re worrying me and I don’t like it.”

Michael took a few breaths until he could trust that his voice wasn’t going to embarrass him. “I’m not doing or dealing drugs and I haven’t pissed off any drug dealers.”

“Then what is it?”

“What happened to not pushing?” Michael murmured. Alex didn’t respond as he let his head hit the pillow.

They laid in silence for a bit longer, tension between them that wasn’t there before. Michael should just tell him. What was the worst that could happen? He was already living in the worst timeline, he might as well just say it.

But that was easier said than done. It was something he needed to talk to Isobel and Max about‒if he could even talk to Isobel and Max without anything bad happening. The idea of it made him feel like he was being choked. Everything made him feel like that recently.

Alex’s hand suddenly touched the back of his neck and Michael was brutally hit with the comparison to the feeling of his brother’s hand on his neck. Eff was rough and firm while Alex’s touch was soft and warm. He wouldn’t mind if that touch stayed there indefinitely. And it seemed to stay there for a while, simply working into his neck.

When Alex pulled his leg away from Michael’s, he almost broke the silence to say something to keep him there. But Alex was pulling Michael onto his stomach and climbing onto his back before he had the chance. His hands worked into the multitude of weeks worth of tension in his shoulders and his neck, carefully trying to make him pliant under his fingers. Michael wasn’t sure it’d work, but he wasn’t going to tell him no.

The longer that went on, however, the more Michael found himself feeling guilty. He was a shitty boyfriend. He tried to think of the last nice thing he’d done for Alex out of the sea of nice things Alex had done for him. Sure, Michael was going through his own shit, but he was letting Alex worry and pushing him away and then letting Alex take care of him after it all. This wasn’t what he had in mind when he thought about getting Alex for real. It was supposed to be Alex parading around in his letterman jacket, it was supposed to be racking up tardy slips because he was late after blowing Alex in his truck, it was supposed to be good.

And Alex had stayed good. Michael was the one who was fucking him over.

“Alex,” Michael said softly. He hummed in question, pressing into a knot in between his shoulders that nearly had him crying all over again. “Alex, what would you say if I told you the truth?”

Alex paused for just a moment before getting back to it.

“I already told you.”

“Even if I say I’m an alien and there’s a guy who found out and is basically using me as a science experiment and I can’t do anything about it because he’s got military connections and I can’t go to the cops because, again, alien,” Michael said in one breath, half into the pillow. Alex stopped for a much longer moment this time.

“That’s not funny,” Alex said softly.

“I didn’t think it was.”

More silence, more breathing, more waiting. Michael was sure he was going to be thrown out of his house. It was the logical next step.

“Science experiment?” Alex asked slowly. Michael nodded. “Like, cuts you open?”

Michael huffed a laugh, “Not yet, thank god.” Alex didn’t laugh. “Usually sticking needles into pressure points that set off shit in me and electrocution. Sometimes injects me with, like, alien steroid type things.”

“Michael.”

“Could be worse, though, ‘cause he hasn’t cut me open,” Michael said. Alex made a pained little noise and then laid on Michael’s back. It was distinctly different than being kicked out. “Aren’t you freaked out? I’m an alien.”

“I’ve had sex with you and I didn’t find a zipper,” Alex murmured into the back of his neck. Michael breathed a sigh of relief that mixed with a laugh. If more tears came, they met the pillow immediately. “Don’t worry, I’ll help.”

“Alex, you can’t‒”

“I can,” Alex said firmly, “Give me a few days to come up with something.”

Michael didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. Later, he’d find a way to tell Alex that wasn’t an option. Currently, though, he’d stay right here.

Here, he was safe and warm and that’s all he cared about.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #verse: from a whisper to a scream

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akaspiderman · 5 years ago

Text

acceptance

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: angst kinda

word count: 2.6k

plot: breaking down walls can be scary, but acceptance can bring peace.

A/N: Hi! I haven’t written in a year, so i might be a little rusty. Thank you for reading this and I appreciate you <3

not my gif

Love is not a necessity.

That was the philosophy Bucky held close and navigated through the 21st century. He isn’t a fool, he knows where it stems from. The fear of hurting someone controlled him. He hurt so many people before. The potential he could hurt someone was enough for him to take a step back, but love isn’t a choice. Love creeps through the cracks, seeping into your heart. Love is a force that’s hard to stop. Love was you.

You were absolutely radiant. The stars couldn’t compare to you. It was the way you laughed through mistakes and the gleam in your eye when you’re about to cause trouble. You cried watching movies and failed terribly at diys. You were so real. You were the fresh breath of air. You were exactly what Bucky needed while he was in the dark. He needed to be balanced and held, someone to tell him it was going to be alright. But he won't allow it. His brain rejected every single idea of you, unwilling to take a risk.

Bucky’s head hung low, towel slung over his shoulders. The sweat trailed down his body and he took a seat on the patio stoop. If he squinted, he can make you out on the horizon, clearly winded. He has no idea why you insist on running knowing damn well he could lap you. He doesn't mind it though. He enjoyed having someone to spend time with, even if it was from afar and you couldn't talk consistently due to sharp breaths.

Without the sound of his feet hitting the pavement or the sound of complaints behind him, the thoughts catch up to him faster than another distraction could. This wasn't his fault, the whole situation was bigger than him. He tried his best to make up for his faults and fought the hardest he could. He couldn't predict the blip or stop it from happening. Yet, overwhelming guilt coursed through his body. He should have helped a little bit more, saved more. But he wasn't good at that. He only knew how to cause pain and it was terrifying. He attracted what he is, trouble. That sheer idea alone can give the motivation to isolate.

“Hey,” you said breathily, hands-on your thighs for support. “I can’t keep up with you.”

Bucky chuckled softly, looking up to meet you. “No one's making you run, you’re perfectly capable of holding your ground.”

“Mhm, yeah,” you hummed. “Sam never wants to run with you and cardio never hurt anyone.”

Bucky’s eyes traced you. You were drenched in sweat and you were lightly gasping for air. Bucky shook his head. “It looks like it hurt you. I still don’t understand it.”

“Not all of us are injected with serum Bucky.”

“Well, not all of us have superpowers.”

You laughed, taking a seat next to Bucky on the stoop of the house you rented. It was a temporary base until you, Bucky, and Sam packed it up and went somewhere else. “You got me there. I just like spending time with you. Sometimes.”

“Still lost,” Bucky said. He couldn’t quite figure it out. You were always there, but not in a bad way. You were down for whatever plan he made and went with him to the farmers market. You watched whatever he felt like, even if it was the news. You tried your best to keep everything homey, baked goods filling the air. You agreed to travel with him and Sam willingly rather than settle down after the chaos. You were becoming a constant and it terrified him a little.

You rolled your eyes, the sun starting to creep out from the horizon. “Don’t act like you don’t enjoy spending time with me.”

God, he does. He liked the desserts you whipped out and watching you do so. He never participated after the great brownie fire, but still, he was there. He liked driving you around when you got restless. He liked watching you complain about the simple inconveniences but shake off major ones. He liked knowing you chose him over a normal life. He liked that he felt his guard fall down with you. He liked sitting next to you in this moment, watching the sunrise creep out from the horizon.

Rather than expressing that, Bucky shrugged his shoulder. His brain erased all those thoughts, accepting you as a teammate before he could dive into those feelings.

“Admit it, you like spending time with me,” you said. You leaned towards him, bumping your shoulder against his repeatedly. “Come on Barnes, you know you do.”

Bucky let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “You’re impossible, you know?”

“Whatever, I know you like spending time with me, whether you’ll admit or not. You like me,” you drew out the last three words, wiggling your eyebrows.

All of a sudden, Bucky’s face flushed with color. Pink took over his cheeks, something the run didn’t do as easily. He instantly ducked his head, breathing in and out to control the heat spending like wildfire. He shook his head no, ready to deny everything. He doesn’t like you. He shouldn’t like you. It was a dangerous game to play and he isn’t willing to risk it all. He scooted away from you, his posture instantly straightening out. He was all rigid now, the comfort melting off.

You cocked your head at him, eyebrows scrunched. His entire energy shifted into a defensive mode and it stung. “What?”

“Stop pushing it (Y/N),” Bucky’s voice dropped an octave.

It wasn’t Bucky’s intention to grit his teeth and stiffen up, but it’s what happens when Bucky tries to shut stuff out. He pushed it away, praying it’ll go away. He wouldn't even acknowledge the possibility of liking you. He needed to turn it off before he dwells on it too long. There’s no bigger gamble than getting involved with someone. Maybe there was no foreseeable threat, but the thought lingered at the back of his head like tar. It was a part of him that he adopted on accident and can’t shake off. He can’t put anyone in danger for himself. You were too kind to be put through trauma. You were a teammate, nothing more and nothing less.

You were taken back by the sharpness of his words. Did he genuinely not like you? Logically, he must like you to some extent. He approached you after the fight, asking if you had plans. You didn’t. Now you were in the middle of God-Who-Knows, renting houses for a week before leaving to do it again. He chose you to spend time with and tie up loose ends. It might be self-absorbed, but you swore he liked you romantically. You saw him stealing glances at you throughout the day. He would let you fall asleep on him and carry you back to bed. He pretended he needed to buy something dumb, like plums, just to go with you to the market. He was comfort to you and you assumed he felt it too. He must have because you were falling.

Yet, there’s a chance he could despise you. It could have been Sam's idea to bring you along. Bucky might be putting on a charade, acting nice for necessity. Bucky can shut you off like a light at times when you got too touchy. He just turned cold in a matter of seconds. He could push you away if he wanted too.

Maybe it was immature of you, but it hurt. You put your life on pause for him and there was a chance he didn't even like you. All of your laughing fits and hugs were for nothing. You could mean nothing. Just because you felt passion, doesn't mean it's going to be reciprocated. Love isn't fair that way.

It's a shame that emotion wins over logic almost every time. Without thinking, you’re standing up and storming off back in the direction you came from. That was a shot at your heart.

“(Y/N)?” Bucky called out. His voice was still cold, but concern was laced throughout.

You clenched your jaw, starting into a jog. Anger and hurt was better fuel for cardio than you thought.

“Where are you going?” His voice softened back to normal.

Without turning around, you flipped him off before easing into a running pace. He had the audacity to act confused as if he hadn’t disregarded your entire relationship.

Bucky stood up, knowing he was going after you. He wasn’t stupid, he knows he upset you after shutting down. He just thought it wouldn’t be this much and it hurt him a different way. His heart ached, wanting to apologize for everything. He wanted to know you were alright.

It doesn’t take long for Bucky to be running next to you. You were still recovering from the first run and Bucky was Bucky. He kept his pace next to you. Though you were winded, you kept pushing past him, just for him to catch up in a matter of seconds.

“Hey,” Bucky broke the silence and reached out to grab your arm, “Are you alright?”

You snapped your arm away from him, coming to a halt. “Why do you care?”

It was petty, part of you wanted to do a low blow on him. Just enough so he could feel what it felt like to be cut off.

Bucky stared at you, forehead furrowed. His piercing blue eyes are weak at your harsh words. “I didn’t mean it,” Bucky gushed out automatically.

“Then why did you push me away?” you said. You were being dramatic and you knew it, but it was still your feelings. Your feelings are valid and it took a while to learn that. You wanted Bucky to like you, romantically, platonically, doesn't matter. You just wanted to be treated like you meant something.

“I-I don’t know, it was automatic.”

You instantly let go of your cold demeanor, slumping over. “It’s fine if you don’t like me, but I guess I expected you to like me a little bit.”

“Oh, no, no, you got me wrong.” He cared for you far more than he’s comfortable admitting. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but of course, he hurts you doing so.

You perked up at his words, curiosity replacing the feelings faster than expected. “What do you mean?”

Bucky bit his lip, trying to come up with words that explained. Every sentence he was putting together fell short. There was no combination of words that expressed he liked you much more than he wanted too. He froze at the epiphany, his defense didn’t block out the feelings fast enough. The idea fell thought a crack and it was exposed. No defense to bury it. He was falling for you and it’s hard to deny the idea on centerstage. No matter how much he pushed the thoughts away, they would catch up. The repressed feelings were flooding him all at once.

“Bucky?” you said, impatience catching up.

Bucky was at a standstill, his eyes maintaining contact as he processed information. Of course part of him knew he thought about you a bit too much, but it never lasted long. He would distract himself with other thoughts and find something to do before he had to face reality. It was easier at times to ignore that feeling and hope it goes away. Unfortunately, feelings demand to be felt.

Now, you stood in front of him. Anger catching up to you, a flare in your eye, ready to turn and leave. Yet, all he could see was you dancing. He could see you throwing your head back in laughter, dancing offbeat to a song, trying to entice him to dance. It worked. Then, he sees you shouting accusations of cheating during Uno. You were whipping out words of pure rage over a card game and it was adorable. He let you win. He sees you vulnerable, crying over losses that he shared. Tears streaming and shaky breaths, asking what you did wrong. He cried with you. He sees you now, pure spite filled your eyes, but he could see the undertone of hurt. You were drenched in sweat, hair falling out of a ponytail. It wasn’t the prettiest you’ve ever been, but you were glowing. The sun shined behind you, golden light illuminating you. You were everything he needed. You were his joy, his weak spot, his vulnerability. He needed you.

“Oh my god,” you snapped. You turned on your heels and started running.

“Wait,” Bucky called out with a shaky voice.

“Look, Bucky it’s fine."

He took in a deep breath. The realization came and he can never take it back. He needed to embrace it with open arms. “I like you, a lot.”

You slowed down, turning to face him. He was at an awkward distance away, but you could sense it from your spot. He was vulnerable. It was written all over his face. He was biting his lip, eyes big and wide. His fingers were aimlessly tapping at his thigh.

“I like you,” he half-yelled.

Bucky wanted to melt into himself. His heart was rapid, beating against his chest. Part of him couldn’t bear to see your reaction, he wanted to run away and take it all back. Instead, he faced it. Maybe it wasn’t love yet, but he felt it. He could see the potential of him hopelessly falling so deeply in love. You were so real and so close. You were his dream and nightmare. He could lose you, endanger you, and god knows what. But in this moment, the positive thoughts are stronger than the negative.

Your face broke into a goofy smile, laughter spilled out of your lips. It wasn’t laughter stemmed from embarrassment or awkwardness, but one from pure joy. Love was entangled in it. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. He smiled a true smile. The kind that took up his entire face and made him brighter than the sun.

You walked towards him, closing the gap to reduce the awkward volume of your conversation. “That’s good because I like you too.”

“In the way I do?” Bucky whispered. You were inches away now. He swore you could his heartbeat.

“Yes, I’ve liked you like that for ages. I just didn’t want to rush you,” you said softly. “Why else would I choose to be stuck with you?”

Bucky let out a small chuckle, “I’m not sure, but you’re sure? You like me, even with everything?”

“I like every part of you.”

Those words were enough to give him the confidence to lean in and close the gap. He placed his hands on your hips and they feel like they belong there. Your eyes fluttered shut and your arms wrapped around his neck. Bucky swears you taste like sunshine on his lips.

When the kiss ends, Bucky has his pure smile. But his thoughts were loud, telling him to get out before it backfires, but he stood his ground. He couldn’t help but admit it. “I’m scared.”

“It’s okay. We don’t need to rush anything,” you replied. You embraced him, comfort flooding over him.

He buried his face into your hair, even if it was a mess of flyaways and sweat. It was what he needed to keep grounded. It was real and it was scary. The thoughts were screaming at him, but he couldn’t run from his feelings anymore. He had the smallest taste and he knows he can’t go back.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 4 years ago

Text

with you [chapter 6]

Summary: Clementine pops the question, Louis has nightmares, Violet can’t let go of the past, Mitch doesn’t know how to handle gross feelings, Ruby’s a goddamn sweetheart, Willy doesn’t ever remember to knock, Aasim can’t dance, and James is here, too.

Nothing like a wedding to bring this family together.

Note: Not much to say this time around. I just had some extra time since I didn’t have to go to work, so I figured it would be a great time to work on [with you]. Here’s the Violet part that always get me in trouble [but like not really, just from people who think I hate Violet or don’t understand her and whatever, y’know] but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Thanks for reading!

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6

Read on: AO3 | FF.net | Wattpad

---

Violet’s door is shut.

Clementine makes no move to knock.

Mitch stands beside her, waiting with more patience than she expected.

Her arms grow heavy, weighed down with dread. During the slow walk here, she thought of several things to say and has yet to settle on a starter. Different scenarios ran through her head, all a jumbled mess.

She hears a sigh. Mitch leans over and knocks on the door.

They wait.

He knocks again, this time harder.

Nothing.

“Shit,” Mitch mutters. “Either she’s not here, or she’s ignoring us.”

Neither option would surprise her.

“Violet?” Clementine tries, only to be met with more silence. Leaning forward, she presses the side of her head against the door, listening. Everything’s still, and Clementine’s sure the room’s empty. Relief begins eating at her brain, giving excuses of “Well, there’s always tomorrow!”

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” she whispers to herself, agreeing with the thoughts, knowing full well that putting this off wouldn’t help the situation tomorrow.

“I coulda told you that,” Mitch mumbles, knocking again.

Before she can tell him to stop, to suggesting coming back tomorrow morning, footsteps turn her attention down the hall.

Violet stands alert, her glare fixated on the two of them, arms crossed. It’s enough to send any normal person to hightail it out of there, but Clementine’s not frightened so easily despite the erratic nervous thumping of her heart in her throat.

“Violet-”

“What the fuck do you two want?”

Violet’s voice- It’s like someone injected ice into Clementine’s veins.

“I-” Clementine clears her throat. Her voice feels so small, insignificant. She pushes down those anxious feelings, a skill acquired when she was far too young and dealing with tense situations such as this- if not worse- and asks, “Can we talk?”

Violet scoffs.

“It’s important, Vi-”

“Fuck. Off.”

Violet moves towards her. A prickle of intimidation dampens her faux confidence once they’re close, face to face. Violet’s glare bores straight into her, but before Clementine can address the situation, Mitch pushes her back and stands in between them.

“Watch it,” he warns.

Clementine moves from behind Mitch, saying, “Please, Violet. I just want to talk-”

“I don’t really give a shit what you want.”

“Can you just fucking chill?” snaps Mitch. “She just wants to talk.”

“Can you just go fuck yourself?”

“Excuse me?” Mitch steps closer.

“Don’t,” Clementine warns, grabbing his sleeve. “You’re not helping.”

He backs off, but not much, keeping his focus on Violet, watching the girl’s every move.

Clementine tries again, “It won’t take long. It’s about Louis.”

That catches her attention.

“Can we talk?” Clementine asks again, this time much softer. “Privately?”

“Before that, though,” Mitch holds out his hand. “Give it.”

Violet doesn’t move.

“I know you have it.”

“That’s not necessary,” Clementine tries.

“Consider it a precaution.”

The tension between the two as they scowl at each other is suffocating.

With a sigh, Clementine reaches and pulls out the knife she always carries.

“Here,” she offers it to Mitch.

He doesn’t take his eyes off Violet, even when he takes the handle.

“I’m unarmed now,” Clementine says. “Please, Vi…”

She breaks her gaze away from Mitch to look at the floor.

“Fine.”

Violet pulls her cleaver out and tosses it down the hallway.

“You wanna talk?” She shoves her door open, turning to glower at Clementine. “Let’s talk.”

She walks into the dorm room, straight to her desk, taking the chair and turning it around.

Violet sits facing her, waiting.

And Clementine’s terrified.

Not the kind of terrified like when walkers are circling them, or like the terror she feels when someone gets hurt or doesn’t come back on time. This is a terror of facing Violet with the possibility of saying the wrong thing and shattering that little piece of lost hope for their friendship.

This is her last chance.

Mitch gives her a firm nod.

“I’ll be right out here.”

She knows he says it more to Violet than to her.

Clementine closes the door behind her.

They’re alone.

Fuck.

Where did she even begin?

She can’t bring herself to look at Violet, so she does a quick glance over the room. It’s similar to hers, but with only one bed and nothing to decorate the walls. It’s empty.

“Well?” Violet asks.

Clementine digs deep inside herself, deciding to be as honest as possible. Beating around the bush, or only scratching the truth never ends well.

“It’s been two years,” she starts. “Since we’ve actually talked, I mean. I know that you still hate me, and I know that I’ll probably never be able to change that. I just don’t understand why.” She waits for a reaction but gets none. “I mean, I understand why… why this whole thing started but I guess I don’t understand everything. I don’t want to fight with or avoid you anymore. I- ...I really miss you, Vi.”

“You are un-fucking-believable.”

Clementine bites the inside of her cheek. Breathe in, breathe out. She tries to ignore the absolute loathing that vibrates from the other girl, and she recalls that last time someone looked at her like that.

Eleven-years-old… a poor woman dying in the arms of a man who loved her… the fiery hatred in that single eye…

Fuck.

She can’t curl in on herself this time.

“Is that really all you have to say?” Violet asks. “You miss me? Fucking really?”

“We used to be friends before everything happened. Remember my first night here?” Clementine asks. “When you came in looking for that pencil box and we talked? And the card game and-”

“I remember,” Violet interrupts, “I remember being grateful to have another girl around to talk to. You said I kicked walker ass. You were so nice, and you listened to everything I had to say. For the first time in a year, I thought I found someone I could care about, even if I didn’t want to admit it. ”

Violet looks down to the wooden floors.

“I also remember AJ shooting Marlon. I remember everyone turning against you, ready to throw you both out right then and there. I also remember stopping them. I stood between you and a group of kids ready to tear you apart with nothing but my meat cleaver.”

Violet leans forward with a burning gaze.

“You know what else I remember? I remember voting for you to stay. I remember telling them it was bullshit that you had to leave. I remember leaving you out there in the woods and then seeing that boot on your neck and shooting my bow to save your life. I was at your side the entire time, being the only one to defend you, to listen to you!”

“Vi-”

“I let you back into our school! Despite what everyone said- despite what Louis said, I let you stay because I knew you were our best chance of survival, even though they couldn’t see it. But, do you know what I remember the most?”

“Violet, I-”

“I remember when the raiders finally got here and the bomb went off. Everything was so fucked. They already had Omar and I saw them knock Aasim out and throw him in the cart, too. But before I could even think, I saw you fall off the balcony... Lilly point her fucking gun right at you. And I stopped her. I tackled her to the ground.”

Violet stands.

“I saved your life.”

Clementine remains still, even as Violet advances towards her, slowly, one step at a time.

“And I remember looking for you.”

They’re barely a footstep apart now.

“And you just let them take me.”

“That’s not what happened,” Clementine protests.

“Then, what did happen, Clem? Why didn’t you save me?” Violet spits. “Because I have a pretty good idea.”

“What? Vi, I told you, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t have enough time or a clear shot-”

“Bullshit,” Violet says. “Tell me the truth.”

Clementine searches the fury held in Violet’s eyes and finds she can’t speak. She opens her mouth, stuttering.

Violet leans close, whispering.

“You chose him.”

The words hang in the air between them.

“...What?”

“You chose him,” Violet repeats. “He wanted you gone after AJ shot Marlon. His head was so far up his own ass that he couldn’t... He wanted to leave you out there in those woods to die. He wanted nothing to do with you or AJ. And you still chose him.”

“Vi, what are you talking about?” Clementine asks, baffled. “I- I didn’t just choose him like that, it- everything was so-”

“I was there for you, not him! And you still let them take me! Why? Because Louis batted his eyes at you and said sorry?”

Now an angry warmth spreads through her now, melting the terrifying ice into liquid anger.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The fuck I don’t! You two barely said a word to each other the whole time we prepped-!”

“What? That’s not true-!”

“-and then we play some stupid card game and you’re suddenly putty in his hands? Suddenly you have feelings for him? You decide to play that stupid piano with him instead of preparing for our fucking doom? Like fucking around with him was more important than our lives?”

“That’s not how it went down and you know it!”

Violet lets out an angry groan, turning around and kicking at her bed frame. “Just admit it, Clem, you let them take me because you cared more about him!”

“Don’t twist it around like that!” Clementine glares. “I tried to save you both! And- and I went with him that night to play piano because I needed some comfort-”

“Pfft-!”

“-and I couldn’t go through the raider attack without seeing if there really was something between us! I had feelings for him before everything with Marlon and I needed to know if he felt the same way. I wasn’t going to have that regret with me! And- and when I saw them grab him, I didn’t stop to think, I just shot. I couldn’t let them take him-”

“Oh, but you were happy to let them take me?”

“No! I saved him but that doesn’t mean I didn’t try to save you or anyone else!”

“Bullshit!”

“Raiders were everywhere and then the walkers came in! I did the best I could to try and protect as many of us as possible!”

“Well, you did a shit job.”

Clementine’s nails bite into her palm as her fists tighten. Her heart is hard in her chest, it’s beat vibrating throughout her entire body.

“I’m sorry that they got you, Vi, I am. I always will be, but there wasn’t anything I could do except plan to save you. We all risked our lives to go back for you!”

“You should've just left us.”

“How can you say that? You’re here, alive, and at home because of what we did!”

“So? You have no fucking idea what it was like on that ship, Clem. What they did to us.” Violet turns back to face her. “What they did to Minnie. They threatened us with inhumane things like it was nothing- Like we were nothing! Just dogs ready to be mutilated and thrown out if we didn’t sit down and roll over!”

“Then how can you say that I should’ve left you?”

“Because at least I would’ve had Minnie-”

“Violet, you were there when she admitted to killing Sophie! You were there when they tried to cut Louis’ hand off! When they took AJ away! They threatened you! And you still tried to stop me from breaking out! We’d all be dead if I hadn’t done anything and you know it! That wasn’t the Minerva you knew! How could you-”

“Do you know what it’s like to lose someone twice? Someone you loved more than you could ever love yourself? No, you don’t! Minnie never would’ve let them hurt me-”

“You really believe that? After she murdered her own sister?”

“She protected me, told me how to be safe while I was locked up! She stayed beside me for hours while Lilly-” Violet sucks in a short breath, biting her lips and squeezing her eyes shut. “...All you ever did was abandon me when I gave you so much. I never would’ve left you.”

“If that’s the case, then put yourself in my position,” Clementine says, glaring. “If it’d been you with the bow, and you had to try and save both me and Minerva, what would you have done?”

For the first time in several minutes, the room’s quiet.

Clementine steps back to steady herself. “You already know your answer. You would’ve tried to save us both but you also know that you would’ve tried to save her first. I wouldn’t hate you for that.”

“It’s different- I loved Minnie-”

“I loved Louis-”

“You barely knew him!”

“I barely knew you!”

“It’s not the same thing, Clem! You may love him now but you didn’t love him then, so don’t even try and pull that shit with me!”

“Fine,” Clementine crosses her arms tight over her chest. “Fine. Let me ask you this, then: Who would you have saved if it was me or Louis?”

Violet turns her back to her, still shaking with resentment.

“You can’t answer that, can you? Because it wasn’t a choice like that. When you look back on it, it seems like it is… but in the moment, that's not what it is.”

Violet says nothing.

Clementine’s throat is sore, and her chest aches. Frustration wets her eyes. Her head, filled with so many thoughts and so many emotions, feels ready to cave in under the pressure of the room.

“...What do you want me to say?” Clementine whispers.

Violet shakes her head. “There’s nothing you can say. What’s done is done. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change that I thought you cared about me more than you really did.”

“I did- I do care about you, Vi. Why do you think I’m here?”

“Because Louis sent you.”

“No, he didn’t.”

Violet scoffs.

“He didn’t,” Clementine reassures. “I’m here because I want to be. I meant what I said, Vi. I miss you, and I want us to be friends again. I know that’s asking for too much, that you will never forgive me for what happened. But, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Violet. I hate that I can’t just talk to you like I could before. I hate that we can’t play stupid card games together with Louis. I hate seeing you hide away from everyone. We all miss you.”

Violet faces her again with an unreadable expression.

“Okay, Clem,” she says slowly. “Say I forgive you. Say we work this out and become friends again. We’ll play our stupid card games and have a grand ol’ time.” Violet shrugs her shoulders, weakly motioning to her. “Everything’s all sunshine and rainbows. But, what happens when a new set of raiders come knocking on our doors?” She brushes her bangs out of her face, holding her hand against her head. “What happens when they break in again and I need your help?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“No? It’s not?” Violet gives a dry laugh. “Let me tell you what’ll happen, Clem. I’ll look for you and you won’t be there.”

Clementine closes her eyes and lowers her head. “You- You’re not listening-”

“You’ve made your choice,” says Violet. “And I won’t be hurt again because of it.”

She moves to the window, peering out. Clementine watches her with nothing to say. Truly, what could she say to make Violet understand?

“Most days, I hate him, too.”

“What?” Clementine asks.

“Did he ever tell you what happened? After you knocked Minnie out?” Violet peers over her shoulder at her.

“That you guys jumped into the water before the boat could explode.”

Violet turns back to the window and runs her finger over the glass, smudging it.

“Minnie was out cold and I couldn’t wake her up. I refused to leave her and Louis refused to let me stay. So, he carried me. I kicked, punched, screamed, scratched, bit… anything I could to get him to put me down. Got him right in the chin a couple of times, made him bleed. And he just wouldn’t let me go. He dragged me out and just… tossed me overboard.”

Violet sighs, pressing her forehead against the glass.

“Do you know how cold the water was that night?” she asks quietly. “Or how many walkers there were?”

Clementine doesn’t answer.

“…He left Minnie lying there on the boat.”

Clementine knew that.

Louis confessed it to her one night after one of his nightmares, how they could’ve saved her from the explosion, how he tried so hard to convince Violet to get up but once the boat started rocking, got scared and threw both of them overboard.

What Violet didn’t know- at least, Clementine assumes that she doesn’t know- is that Louis looked back at Minerva, a guilty thought nagging him to bring her, too… only to find that it was too late.

That woman, the one Louis has nightmares about, got to Minerva first.

He cried about it until he physically couldn’t anymore.

Even though Louis hated her in those last moments, hated what Minerva had become, he still occasionally wept for the girl he used to know.

“Know what he told me? After we got back?”

Clementine almost doesn’t hear her she’s so quiet.

Violet smiles, actually smiles. “He said he loved me. Called me family.”

Clementine’s lip curls, just a bit, into what could be a smile, as well.

Until Violet says, “I hate that he loves you.”

“...What?”

“It drives me insane, the fact that you love each other. He thinks the world of you, y’know. He never talks about you when he’s with me, but I can just see it on that stupid face of his. He fucking adores you. You and AJ.” She goes quiet. “You’re his family now.”

“He still loves you, Violet.”

“I know,” she murmurs. “He tells me all the time.”

“So, why do you hate him? Because of Minerva?”

“Sometimes… but honestly?”

Clementine risks taking a few steps closer.

“Because now I’m no one’s first choice,” she whispers. “He’d pick you first, always. He proved that after we escaped… after I attacked you. He didn’t even hesitate.”

After the delta ship completely sank and they all regrouped, Violet had lunged at her, knocked her to ground. But, she didn’t stand a chance, not with everyone there. Not even with the knife she’d stolen off of Clementine.

“I’ve never seen him do that. Even when Marlon threatened you, he hesitated.”

Louis stepped in front of her, shielded her from the distraught girl she once called a friend. They yelled at each other and he was ready to wrestle the knife away from her if words didn’t work.

Thankfully, it never came to that.

“I’ll always be taken,” Violet’s voice cracks.

It takes the tears spilling over to make Clementine realize she’s actually crying. Her first instinct is to reach out and grab her, but then Violet turns and glares at her again.

“Violet-”

“You got what you wanted. We talked. I don’t think there’s anything else left to say.”

That’s far from the truth. There’s still so, so much more.

I wish I could take your pain away.

I wish I could have saved you, too.

Louis loves you. Tenn loves you. I love you. We all love you.

We miss you.

You don’t have to be scared.

You don’t have to be alone.

And, of course, the whole reason for this.

Violet, I’m asking Louis to marry me tomorrow.

But, she doesn’t say any of those things.

Instead, she wipes tears off her cheeks.

“I’ll never let anyone take you again, Vi,” she musters up all her confidence. “We’re family.”

“...You need to leave.” Violet turns her back to her one final time. “We’re done.”

She doesn’t want to, hesitating, waiting for Violet to change her mind.

And when she doesn’t, she leaves.

Mitch is there, right next to the door with a sullen expression. There’s no doubt in her mind that he heard nearly every word spoken between them.

The door closes with a soft click.

His hand touches her shoulder gently.

“You okay?”

She shakes her head.

“It’s late,” she says. “I- ...I think it’s time for bed.”

Mitch nods. With a comforting hand on her shoulder, the two head down the hall.

They stop when there’s an anguished scream and the sound of broken glass.

Clementine whips around and dashes for Violet’s room.

The door flings open and Violet runs out. She goes in the opposite direction, turning the corner and out of sight.

“Violet!” Clementine calls.

Mitch stops her from going after her.

“She’s probably going to Tenn’s room,” he says. “Best not to get in her way.”

Shit.

Mitch watches her as she rubs at her tired eyes and pushes all the air out of her lungs in a heavy sigh. She looks over into Violet’s room. The cause of the breaking glass sound is evident on the floor. From here, she can see it’s a framed photo of Violet, Minerva, and Sophie.

“Look,” Mitch says, “I’ll follow her and make sure she gets to Tenn fine, okay?”

She glances up at him and tries to smile. “Thank you.”

He pats her shoulder one last time before going down the hall.

Now, she’s alone in the middle of the hallway with a lump in her throat and an overwhelming desire to be in Louis’ arms.

---

The lantern lights up the dark dorm in a warm hue. Louis is sitting on their bed, eyes drooping as he attempts to read the book in hand when Clementine comes in.

“Hey, there you are,” he says with a smile, setting his bookmark in before closing the book. “How was watch?”

“Fine.”

“Anything exciting?”

“Not. Nothing exciting.”

Something’s wrong. Clementine won’t look at him and her voice is raw. Setting the book aside, Louis gets off the bed and approaches her. She keeps her back to him as she takes off her hat and slips off her jacket. He places his hands on her shoulders, lightly turning her around.

“Clem?”

Now that he’s closer, the redness ringing her eyes is much more prominent.

“It wasn’t a great end to the night,” she admits quietly.

His warm hand grabs hers tenderly. Her chin quivers.

“Hey,” he pulls her closer, only for her to bury herself in his chest and hold onto him for dear life. He holds her tight, running a comforting hand along her back.

“What happened?” he asks.

She shakes her head.

“I talked to Violet,” she murmurs against his skin. “About everything.”

Louis’ eyes widen.

She doesn’t say any more. He doesn’t need her to.

Moments later, the lantern's off and they’re in bed, laying side one another in comfortable silence. Neither can sleep, so Louis grabs her hand to trace the letters of her name on the back, then her palm to make her laugh.

"That's cheating."

"So?"

"So you lose."

"Oh, so it's only okay when you cheat?" Louis laughs.

She plants a tender kiss on his chin, right where his scar is.

"Yes."

His eyes flutter shut. A grin remains on his lips.

Tomorrow is so close.

“Louis?” She whispers.

“Clementine?”

“I love you.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“I love you, too.”

#[with you]#twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg clouis #clouis #twdg louisentine #louisentine #twdg violet #twdg mitch #twdg aj #twdg tenn #twdg omar #twdg james #twdg willy #twdg aasim #twdg ruby #twdg marlon #twdg brody

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kmseokjins · 5 years ago

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Mellifluous (Chapter 8)

Fandom: BTS Pairing: BTS x Reader / Poly!OT7 x Reader Warnings: n/a this chapter Summary: Reader sits down to explain her story to the boys.

Notes: I wanted to have this chapter up looong before this but you know, life got in the way recently. Sorry it’s short ;_; <3

Archive Of Our Own || Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

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

You could say, without a doubt, that you’d just experienced one of the best meals of your life. Despite the shriek of alarm from Jin as he bolted into the kitchen, you hadn’t tasted anything wrong with the meal. It was flavorful and you had been half tempted to go for seconds (your body was healing, and it often demanded more nutrients), but you stopped yourself.

You had been clumsy enough with the chopsticks, completely perplexed as both Jin and Taehyung had shown you multiple times how to use them. They hadn’t seemed upset or frustrated, but you swore Jin looked like he was two seconds from just feeding you himself before you finally figured it out.

Mostly.

After the werewolves had their full of food (werewolves could seriously put away a lot of food, you had observed), the table had swiftly descended into chaos. You could only figure it had something to do with clean up, and you’d watched wide eyed as they seemed to play a game, of which you deemed was rock, paper, scissors.

Yoongi and Taehyung had lost if their defeated expressions and the sudden joyous sounds of the others were anything to go by. You sat there for several minutes watching them, feeling a bit homesick. You missed the comfort of home, of your family, and taking in just how close the seven were to each other just really...hit home. You were promptly startled from your thoughts at the sudden urging of Hobi, who excitedly ushered you out of your seat and towards the living room.

Which is where you now found yourself, legs drawn up towards your chest as you rested your chin on your knees, watching the TV screen as Jungkook had immediately reclaimed his seat on the floor to continue the game he had been playing. The soft murmurs of the others reached your ears over the sound of the TV, but you automatically tuned them out. They weren’t saying anything you could understand.

You haven’t realized all seven werewolves are staring at you until Namjoon clears his throat gently. You blink, jerking your head up slightly as you look around at them. Taehyung and Yoongi had obviously finished cleaning up and joined all of you in the living room without you even noticing. Had they been talking to you? “I’m...I’m sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.”

“What’s your story?” Jin prompts from where he’s perched on the chair arm where Namjoon sits, “You were wandering the park when Jungkook and Jimin found you that first night.”

“Oh..” You trailed off before you cleared your throat, attempting to stall for a few seconds to gather your courage, “I...almost seven months ago, the community of shifters where I lived was attacked by Hunters. Most of my family got away, I think, but they shot me before I could shift and get away. My dad..” You paused, tightening your arms around your legs at the memory, at the knowledge of what happened to her dad rushed over you again. Your throat feels tight and you’re aware that the werewolves can smell your distress, most supernatural creatures could. The couch dips next to you, a warm body pressing against your side followed by a soft whine, and the floral scent lets you know it’s Jimin without even looking.

“They killed him and I couldn’t do anything about it, there were suddenly too many of them. They must have sedated me with something because I couldn’t fight them when they...when they put that collar on me,” You reached up absently to brush your fingers over the side of your neck at the memory, “The hunters put me in a cage with two other shifters before they torched the place and drove away,”

As you look up from where you’d been focusing on the floor, you noticed the looks of horror, sympathy, and anger filtering over all their faces in varying degrees. Jimin nuzzles against your shoulder and you glance sideways at him before slowly leaning over to rest your head against his. Your eyes flutter close at your action, smiling slightly at the hum that rumbles from the werewolf’s chest. Despite the fact that they’re werewolves, you find comfort in the touch of another. It’s nice, a sense of not being alone when you are so far away from where you’d come from.

“I don’t remember the journey, they kept me sedated because I wouldn’t shift to my human form like the other two that they’d captured,” You continued, “We were taken to this warehouse and sold like exotic animals, like nothing more than a piece of jewelry. A human kept me for months before he took me to be sold again, and that’s when I escaped. I didn’t know where I was, trying to shift so many times and get that wretched collar off exhausted me. That’s how those humans found me,” You flick your eyes towards the youngest werewolf, who straightens slightly at your attention, “I...I never thanked you...you or Jimin. Thank you.”

It felt like a weight lifted at finally being able to thank them for taking you in that night. Sure, you would have most likely survived your injuries, but what if they had found you again?

“Why did they take only three of you?” Yoongi questions after a minute or so of silence descends over the living room.

“Our shifting abilities, if I had to guess,” You answered, “I’m not like most shifters, whereas the majority of our population are restricted to a certain animal or two, there are a handful of us who can shift into whatever animal we want.” You shrug, pausing for a moment, “There are limits though, it’s difficult to hold the form of much bigger animals, like Hippos, Elephants, Giraffes. Well, I suppose it might be easier the bigger the shifter? I’m not entirely sure...”

“That’s so cool!”

“What happened the other day, with the staff member you tried to attack?” You bristle at Namjoon’s question, straightening up in your seat.

“She’s a hunter,” You answer, watching the brief looks they all exchange with each other, “She recognized me for what I was after I tried to attack her. I wanted to run at first, but...but none of you seemed alarmed by her.” You fidget your hands again, “It didn’t feel right leaving you without trying to do something. Hunters aren’t merciful, especially to your kind.” Tightening your grip around your legs now, you swallow thickly, “I’m sorry about causing problems the other night, and I’m...I’m sorry that I was the reason you were attacked.”

“What?” Jimin questions beside you, “Of course it’s not your fault.”

“They’ve never been so bold before but that’s not necessarily your fault.” Namjoon agrees, “It was only a matter of time before something like that happened. Our Idol status only protects us so much, unfortunately. We shouldn’t have to worry about it anymore, the company upped security after we reported it to our Regional Alpha and council.”

“Regional Alpha?” You questioned curiously, “You also have a council..?”

“The Regional Alpha is responsible for all the packs in the area, and he’s head of the council,” Hobi explains, drawing your attention towards him, “If there’s a problem or something, all packs go through him to sort it out.”

“After the attack, we had to contact him and the council.” Namjoon adds, “We told them what happened and…told them about you. They want to meet with you.”

“Wha...What?” The word sputters out before you can stop it at the admission from the leader of the group. Your body immediately stiffens in response, eyes wide as your brain reels with the information. They told their council about you, a shifter, being among them? How could they do that? A part of you knows that you don’t really have a right to be angry with them; after all, you had been a surprise to them, and they didn’t really know you.

They didn’t owe you anything, but it still hurts.

One would have to be an idiot not to see the sudden tension in your body language. The sudden racing of your heart was alarming to the seven werewolves, especially coupled with the fear rolling off of you in waves. The seven exchanged uneasy and alarmed looks with each other, uncertain of the cause of your distress.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, [Name],” Namjoon immediately injects soothingly, “The council is more than fair.”

You wanted to believe him, but the amositity that you’d learned about from a young age between shifters and werewolves held you back from doing so. What was the purpose of meeting you? Was it to ship you off, getting you away from the pack? Or maybe they wanted to meet you so they could take you prisoner and make an example out of you to other shifters? God, what if they turned you into the hunters to keep the boys safe?

You should leave while you still had the chance. Where would you go? How would you get back home? You could always shift and fly home or something, right? The sooner you left, the better. No sooner than the decision crossed your mind, you’re abruptly getting to your feet from the couch. You miss the slightly flailing of Jimin behind you on the couch as he tries to right himself at your abrupt absence.

“I...I should probably go, right? I mean, I hate to bother your council or overstay my welcome any more than I already have. I need to get back to my family, if…” You trail off suddenly, throat tightening as your brain briefly mulls over the worse case scenario: you don’t have any family left. You’d be alone. What would you do then? You could always find a new community of shifters, but you didn’t even know where to begin with that. Shifters weren’t essentially pack-orientated like werewolves.

Maybe you could just disappear into a nice tropical forest and pretend to be a jaguar or leopard or something.

“You don’t have to leave!” Jimin’s declaration drags you from your thoughts and back to the blonde werewolf perched on the couch. He’s eyeing you carefully, like he’s conflicted on whether he wants to stay where he is or jump on you to stop you from going anywhere.

“But the council…” You sputter softly, darting your attention among the seven werewolves as your brain attempts to come up with an excuse. You’re about five seconds from shifting into the smallest animal you can think of when Jungkook catches your attention.

“Maybe they can help with getting you back to your family..?” Jungkook offers hesitantly, looking towards Namjoon for confirmation.

You’re immediately looking at Namjoon, eyebrows raising in a silent question. The werewolf shifts slightly, glancing sideways at Jin before back to you, “You can ask, I’m sure they’ll hear you out.”

Was it worth taking the risk? You wanted to protest, to get them to stop offering these promises that you’re 90% sure they can’t keep. Part of you wonders if they would defend you should it come down to it or if they would passively watch if the worst comes to pass. Another part of you, call it intuition if you will, is adamant that they wouldn’t leave you high and dry.

Even if there was just a glimmer of hope to see your family again, you had to take it. You would be a fool not to.

Releasing a puff of air from your lungs, you relax slightly in place, “Okay.” You nod slowly in confirmation, “When do I meet this council?” Maybe you’ll have time to prepare.

“End of the week.” Jin answers with a smile before he bounces to his feet, “Time for dessert!” He declares with flourish before he’s bounding off for the kitchen.

“She can’t meet the council wearing our clothes,” Taehyung says, drawing your attention towards him, eyebrows furrowed. Was he talking about you?

“Why not? I think she looks cute!” Jimin counters, grinning widely when you turn to look at him blankly.

“She’ll need something else. I’m sure the staff could let her borrow something. The council likes their formal wear.” Namjoon speaks up this time, smiling apologetically as you swing your attention towards him now, a frown on your lips.

“[Name], how do you feel about dresses?”

----------

TAGLIST: @im-emo-motherfuckers

[ Want to be tagged when I release new chapters? Send me an ask and include what fics you would like to be tagged in! ]

#bangtan sonyeondan #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts fanfic #ot7 x reader #poly!bts x reader #Supernatural!Idol!BTS x reader #Werewolf!Idol!BTS x reader #werewolf!bts #*mine #my writing #mellifluous fic #it's finally here i am disappointed with myself tbh

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stella-monstrum · 4 years ago

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Rob Zombie; "Why it's time to step outside the confinements of his own box."

For close to four decades,

Rob Zombie has brought nonstop psychedelic grooves and a rockstar presence while gracing his own music and the silver screen with gut-churning, drug-tripping visuals. He not only commands quite the presence in films (whether his own successes or others’), but also makes appearances within many other horror soundtracks. There’s no denying that Zombie is a bloodied savant who has stayed incredibly consistent.

[ᴿᵒᵇ ᶻᵒᵐᵇᶦᵉ. ⁽ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉ: ᴳᵒᵒᵍˡᵉ ᴵᵐᵃᵍᵉˢ⁾]

(Written by Stella, edited by Jacob J.)

(Side note; tumblr’s photo formatting is a pain)

Let’s take a dive into his music before getting into his film library. From 1985-1997, White Zombie released six albums (between studio and compilations). La Sexorcisto: Devil Music Volume One didn’t break into the Billboard 200 chart until a year after its 1992 release. Shortly thereafter, it became the hot and groovy bong success of the band, going on to sell two million copies. Astro Creep 2000, their final and fourth studio release, was their first and only album to chart within the Top 10 of the Billboard 200 in 1995. Up to this day in 2020, “White Zombie” has been featured in 47 TV, film, and video game soundtracks, from Beavis & Butthead to Pen15 to Bride Of Chucky (which includes a personal favorite moment of mine), amongst many others.

After the disbandment and separation, Zombie continued on his solo journey. He has gone on to release six studio albums, with a seventh on the way in March 2021, titled The Lunar Injection Kool Aid Eclipse Conspiracy. A multitude of hits—eight to be exact—sat within the Top 10 of the Billboard 200 records.

══════════════════

Zombie’s extensive film career is a “Super Beast” on its own.

He has been very vocal about gaining inspiration from 1920s-1980s horror culture. In many interviews, he’s cited Stan Lee, Bella Lugosi, Alice Cooper, and Steven Speilberg as being responsible for molding the brain that we know today.

Some of his influences include:

George A. Romero’s Dawn of the Dead (1978)

A Clockwork Orange (1971)

Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920)

The Shining (1980)

Zombie’s upbringing in the carnival industry alongside his family is another key influence.

[[I’ll only be focusing on Zombie’s live-action films here.]]

══════════════════

In 2000, Rob made his directorial and (very memorable) screen debut with House Of 1000 Corpses.

It took three years to be released because of quarrels with major production companies regarding the film’s majorly aggressive themes of torture, blood, violence, sex—not to mention his arrogance with MGM, fighting to get rights back from Universal. Eventually, Lionsgate bit the bullet, albeit with the major stipulation of having Rob edit it down much further so House could pass with a “tame” R rating.

[[House of 1000 Corpses: Rainn Wilson as taxidermy merman (Source: Tumblr—and if you’re brave, you can view the scene here.)]]

══════════════════

In 2005 and 2019, the franchise’s next two installments—Devil’s Rejects and 3 From Hell—were released. The franchise is heavily influenced by the shocking, sickening, and unforgettable ’70s classic Texas Chainsaw Massacre. It follows a family of psychotic, sadistic, and bloodthirsty (if I’m being honest) necrophiliacs. They kidnap, kill, torture and brutalize anyone who gets in their way. At the end of Devil’s Rejects, they somehow manage to survive a police shootout, escape prison, and waltz on into Mexico (as seen in the franchise finale 3 from Hell).

Look, it’s all complicated.

Main Characters from the franchise:

Captain Spaulding—Sid Haig

Baby Firefly—Sheri Moon Zombie

Otis B. Driftwood—Bill Moseley

Momma Firefly—Karen Black (recast as Leslie Easterbrook after Karen’s passing)

(Other notable appearances throughout: Chris Hardwick, Rainn Wilson, Danny Trejo, Dee Wallace, Ken Foree, and Diamond Dallas Page.)

⁽“ʰᵒᵘˢᵉˢ ᵗʳⁱˡᵒᵍʸ”, ᵈᵛᵈ ˢᵉᵗ﹔ ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉ﹔ ᵗᵃʳᵍᵉᵗ.ᶜᵒᵐ⁾

══════════════════

The notorious/controversial Halloween (John Carpenter, 1978) remakes from 2007 and 2009.

(ᵃ ᵛⁱᵉʷ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒˣ ᵃʳᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ⁽ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉ﹕ ᵃᵐᵃᶻᵒⁿ⁾)

Look, this is a remake that you either adore or hate with a burning passion. If you’re a horror fanatic, you know what’s up with the original.

I personally adore Zombie’s take. The fact alone that he gave us an entire background story as to why Michael became the psychotic slasher that we’ve come to know and love. Plus, with an increased suspense and gore factor? Worked incredibly well and did justice (in my opinion).

The film made me feel bad for Michael, with moments of child Myers in therapy, particularly his love for making masks to pass the time while he was locked up and the touching family moments between him and his mother Deborah (Sheri Moon).

ᵈᵉᵇᵒʳᵃʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐⁱᶜʰᵃᵉˡ ᵐᵉʸᵉʳˢ ⁱⁿ ʲᵃⁱˡ ᵗʰᵉʳᵃᵖʸ. ⁽ˢᶜʳᵉᵉⁿᶜᵃᵖ, ʰᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵉⁿ. ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉ﹕ ᵍᵒᵒᵍˡᵉ⁾

[Michael’s cell in the 2007 Halloween remake. (Source: Google)]

Add in the supporting cast of Michael McDowell (Loomis), Brad Douriff (Sheriff Leigh), Scout Taylor-Compton (Laurie Strode), etc., and I honestly think that it came together very well as a remake.

The films rated relatively low, but they did gross higher than the budgets that they originally had to film on. Again, I’m not going to give much attention to the higher-ups of critical perception—it all comes down to personal taste.

══════════════════

“Lords of Salem” (2013)

[[Promotional art for Lords of Salem. (Souce: Google Images)]]

A film that’s centered within Salem, Massachusetts,

this film—you guessed it—tackles witches, occultism, possession, Satan, and all the usual topics. Heidi (Sherri Moon) is a radio DJ who gets sent a mysterious record that’s labeled as being from “The Lords.” From then on out, shit gets a little dicey and admittedly, very disjointed. You can’t fault the cast here, and I loved the visuals that they were going for. However, with set schedule conflicts and multiple rewrites, which led to essentially running out of time to film? As a whole, what looked great on paper just couldn’t be done justice.

My FAVORITE sequence within the film (SPOILERS):

youtube

I can forgive the disjointedness solely because of how mind-boggling and brilliant the film’s history and proper visuals were. Also, we got to see Dee Wallace, Judy Geeson, and Patricia Quinn as creepy and badass witches who moonlight as Heidi’s landlords. Also Meg Foster who leads their coven? Can we talk about what a femme-fueled power cast that is?!

[[Left to right: Patricia Quinn as Megan, Dee Wallace as Sonny, and Judy Geeson as Lacy Doyle. (Screencap, Lords of Salem. Source: Google) ]]

[[Meg Foster as coven leader Margaret Morgan. (Screencap, Lords of Salem. Source; google)]]

Like I said prior, the film gets a little wild. If you’re...well, buzzed prior to watching, it may make a little more sense.

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“31” (2016)

[[Film poster for 31 (Source: Google)]]

[Synopsis from IMDB; “Five carnival workers are kidnapped and held hostage in an abandoned, hellish compound where they are forced to participate in a violent game, the goal of which is to survive twelve hours against a gang of sadistic clowns.”]

Here, we clearly see that Zombie is invoking his childhood growing up within carnivals. In a 2013 interview with LA Weekly, Zombie divulged more about it:

“When we were kids, my parents would [work at the carnivals], and me and my brother would get dragged along to these things all the time and have to work.”

He went further on to say;

“Yeah, and it's not the nicest world. As a kid, you get exposed to the crazier underworld of the carnival. Me and my brother, when we were very little, we'd be inside the haunted house playing all day. So, already, what people are paying money to be scared [of], we're just playing in because it's fun. We saw the inner workings behind the machines.”

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(”31″ trailer, source; Youtube)

Once again in this film, Zombie brings a powerhouse cast:

Jeff Daniel Phillips as Roscoe Pepper

Meg Foster as Venus Virgo

Malcom McDowell as Father Murder

Judy Geeson as Sister Dragon

Richard Brake as Doom Head

You can view the entire cast at IMDB here.

Set in 1976, Zombie stays true to his nods. Again, depending on taste, this is a huge hit or a wild miss with mindless homicidal violence, campiness, and climbs across the monkey bar of standards that we’re used to seeing from him.

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So at this point, you’re probably wondering why I think that it’s time for Rob Zombie to step out of the confinements of his own box...

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It’s no secret that Zombie sticks to only a small group of tropes:

Slashers, families or groups of homicidals that lack remorse, the occult, etc. There’s no shame in sticking to what you know. Hell, Zombie has seemingly cracked the code over the past two decades that he’s been in the film industry that so many directors still don’t seem to get.

IMO, despite whatever you personally feel about the films mentioned above- I feel like we’re living a freaky groundhog day repeat within Zombie’s filmography.

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Now, if it ain’t broke, why fix it? Look, I’m not saying that Zombie has to change anything. However, I would love to see him tackle some other nuances that we’ve already seen from him in small doses.

- Children: We haven’t seen Zombie exactly take on what horror films depict kids as. Sure, he made a breakout and impeccable choice with young Michael Myers (Daeg Faerch) back in 2007. I personally would adore to see a reimagined (NOT remade) Children of the Corn on acid, one we all know Zombie can tackle and turn every existing view on its head.

- Witchcraft, The Occult, Satan, Voodoo: Zombie genuinely had a phenomenal concept (on paper) for 2012’s Lords of Salem. It was unfortunate that they ran out of resources and ran into unfortunate circumstances on set while filming.

The film wasn’t a total tank, though, given how inspiring and insane all the visuals were throughout the 1 hr, 41min film. I am absolutely positive that, given a full-force opportunity, Rob could rectify the mess that was out of his control. We completely saw that he provided visuals that left quite the impression, and he could take those taboo subjects by the goat horns.

- Animals (not the human form): It’s no secret that Rob and his wife Sherri are ethical vegetarians. It would be so tongue and cheek to see them take on such topics as animals getting their revenge, or even vegetarians torturing carnivores. This twist on the formula would make for an interesting viewing.

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2.) In regard to time periods,

Zombie stays within—and pays homage to—the 1970s and 1980s quite a bit. Obviously, those are the eras that Zombie personally loves the most when it comes to filmmaking. However, it would be very interesting to see him take on current day settings.

Zombie has such a unique viewpoint. Given changing climates in politics, human decline/growth, the economy, etc., he would do work that could easily put Ryan Murphy to shame.

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3.) He could also do with some different casting every now and then.

Let me preface this by saying that I adore every repeat casting choice that Zombie has made for his films.

Of course chemistry is a huge thing, and sticking to his friends is a very smart choice. However, he also has the potential to make new stars, boosting the power of those that may be under the radar. He can support those new stars with cameos from classic actors that we haven’t seen in awhile. I can’t begin to even fictionally cast those who fit the bill, but I do believe that with the “Zombie Touch,” he can bring so much more fresh air to the usual casting.

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There’s no doubting what Rob Zombie is clearly very good at. Despite mixed reviews from the horror world and critics, it’s time that his fans open their eyes to new possibilities. Of course, there are die-hards, but digging your feet in further doesn’t allow the growth of horror and its ever evolving themes.

[[ʳᵒᵇ ᶻᵒᵐᵇⁱᵉ, ˢᵒᵘʳᶜᵉ﹔ ᵍᵒᵒᵍˡᵉ ⁱᵐᵃᵍᵉˢ]]

This theory has been on my mind for a very long time—since 3 from Hell came out. I’m sure, in his usual fashion, we won’t be seeing any new films from Rob anytime soon (what with his new album set to release in March 2021, not to mention the toll that the pandemic has had on Hollywood.)

Still, it never hurts to challenge the set standards and ways.

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mycupoffanfiction · 5 years ago

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His Second Chance Part 6

Bucky x Reader

His Second Chance Masterlist

Bucky comes back from Wakanda with Steve, ready to begin his recovery from his days as the Winter Soldier, but there’s one thing he doesn’t take into account - you.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, mentions of bad family, needle (briefly mentioned for a second with little detail), a smidge of violence.

Word count: Approx 2400

Masterlist

In this one, Bucky feels terrible about what happened and wants to fix it but he doesn’t know how.

Okay, so we’re just going to admit that Infinity War and End Game didn’t happen and Bucky’s brain had been de blendered by Shuri and for some reason still has his silver arm (sorry that one makes me weak and I always defult to it).

Please don’t hesitate to leave suggestions or thoughts! TAG LISTS ARE OPEN! (My forever list and His Second Chance list)

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“(Y/n)?” Steve knocked on the door a few times. “She even in there?” Sam asked. “FRIDAY said her vitals are reading from her bedroom, so she’s definitely in there, Sam.” Steve nodded, knocking on your door again. “C’mon sweetheart, we just wanna check up on you.” Steve called through the door. “(Y/n), sweetheart, please.” Steve called.

For fuck sake, just leave the poor girl alone. Bucky sat on the floor on top of his mattress, back pressed up against the bed frame with his ear against the wall. He could hear you shuffling about now and again, the odd sniffle and whimper. He could also hear the click clack of your keyboard along with the sound of your mouse, you were drowning them out with a videogame. That sounded like you.

You’re a fucking idiot, the poor girl has locked herself away because of you.

Perhaps you should be the one to coax her out of her room and apologise.

No, she’s terrified of you, it’ll make it worse, you’d be better to just leave.

Don’t leave, you can’t leave her when you haven’t said you’re sorry or said goodbye.

“Can you please, shut the fuck up?” Bucky growled lowly, hitting his head against the wall that separated your rooms.

A thump caught your attention. You knew where it came from, it was Bucky on the other side of that wall, probably beating himself up over the incident. Truthfully, you weren’t scared of him and you might have already forgiven him because you knew it wasn’t really Bucky that meant to scare you or hurt you, it was the voice in his head, the damage Hydra did to him that caused it. “(Y/n), open up!” Sam was taking a turn at your door now and you let out a deep sigh.

Getting up from your swivel chair at your desk, you padded over to the wall and sat on the floor, pressing your ear up against it, your hand coming up to rest against the wall. “Bucky?” You whimpered out.

Bucky heard you on the other side of the wall. He even considered ignoring you for a moment but knew you had come to him and it wasn’t fair to ignore you. “(Y/n).” Bucky sighed your name out, wondering if you’d even heard him. “I’m sorry.” He apologised, a bit louder this time. “I’m so sorry.” Bucky clutched at his long brown hair, pulling on it a bit too hard, the hurt eased the pain in his chest. So goddamn sorry. “I’m sorry too.” Came your little voice, confusing Bucky. What? Why is she sorry? You’re the one who fucked it all up. “I pushed you too far too fast.” You went on. “Please don’t be sad.” Bucky blurted out. “It wasn’t you. I promise it wasn’t you.” Bucky pulled his hair a bit tighter, squeezing his eyes shut.

“It wasn’t you. I promise it wasn’t you.” Bucky sounded so desperate, so broken. You let out a sigh and sat in silence for a moment. “(Y/n), please open the door!” Sam was getting exasperated. “Sam, calmly, she’s not gonna open the door if you shout at her.” Steve started squabbling with Sam. “Well I know better; she’ll open the goddamn door if I’m out here long enough.” Sam argued. “No, she won’t, she’ll answer the door if we’re gentle with her.” Steve started going into protective Steve mode and putting on his Cap voice. “Don’t coddle her, she ain’t a child.” The two of them continued arguing and you heard a pained groan from the other side of the wall. I feel you.

Getting up from the floor, you padded over to the door and swung it open quickly. Both soldiers paused and looked at you, Sam looked terrified as you gave them both a death glare. “(Y/n).” Steve began, voice gentle. “Are you alright?” He asked. “Does she look alright to you? Cause she looks like she’s about to gut us both.” Sam pointed at you. “I just want to rest, please.” You sounded exasperated, exhausted from the anxiety and the entire situation. Without saying anything, Steve nodded and pulled Sam back from the door before you shrunk back into your room and collapsed on your bed. A muffled, “Thank you.” Could be heard from the other side of the wall as the silence set in and you began to fall asleep.

“C’mon Buck, it’ll be good for you!” Steve exclaimed while Bucky rubbed the bridge of his nose. “No.” He replied simply in an frustrated tone. “Please Buck, it’ll help, I promise.” Steve tried to pull Bucky along by the hand the way that you did, but he wasn’t having any of it. “No, I’m not seeing some therapist.” Bucky protested, yanking his hand away.

I don’t want to see a therapist; I want to see (Y/n) and apologise properly.

“No, it’ll help if you go see this therapist about the voice in your head.” Steve encouraged. “It won’t just help you, but it’ll help your little girlfriend too.” Sam teased. “Not my girlfriend.” Bucky growled. I wish she was though; I wish I could kiss her and hug her, tell her how wonderful she is, make lov- Nope, no, now is not the time to think about that!

“Whatever you say pal. Look, just think about it, alright?” Steve sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile and handing Bucky the business card for the therapist he was recommending. “She’s helped a few of the others too, helped Wanda and Pietro process everything that happened after Ultron, helped Tony with his anxiety, she’s helped Bruce with his anger, I’m sure she can do the same for that voice in here.” Steve poked the side of Bucky’s head before backing away and leaving it at that.

Maybe it was worth a shot, if she could help stop the voices so you could think fucking rationally for once.

Bucky sighed and stared down at the little paper in his hand before retreating back to his room.

***

“Here, it’ll make you feel better.” A woman who resembled an older version of you leant over your tired body. “It might hurt a little, only for a second.” She smiled gently down at you. “No, please.” You half heartedly protested, too drugged up and sleepy to respond properly. “Darling, it only lasts a second.” She smiled, holding up the needle before slowly approaching your arm. “Stop.” You begged, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Stop!” Your yelling was useless, body limp, heavy and difficult to move as the needle went into your arm. Oh god. It burned, it burned so much.

A blood curdling scream ripped through your throat as you burned from the inside out. “Should’ve knocked her out completely before we did it.” The woman sighed, watching you wriggle and writhe under the straps that held you down onto the workbench. “It’s in her, give up the cash.” She held out her hand. “Not yet, I want to see it work once it’s set in, then you get the money.” An older man stood next to her, dressed in a tan suit. “That wasn’t part of the deal, Pierce.” She sneered. “It is now.”

“You’re worthless! A freak! An experiment!”

“You injected me with it!”

“Shut up! You worthless child, I did it for the money, not you!” Your mother screamed you down as you cowered in the corner. “You’re tainted, ruined, a failed test!” She raised her voice, throwing kitchen utensils at you with every word. “That’s all I am to you?” You screamed back. “That’s all you ever were!” She responded, chucking a knife at you, but you were too fast, your abilities kicking in. The knife stopped short of your chest, only by a few centimetres.

You saw red, your mother had just tried to kill you.

“Your father left because of you!” She went on as you used your fingers to manipulate the energy field that held the knife still in front of you, twisting the knife around without even touching it. Her eyes went wide and you stared her down. “Don’t talk about dad.” You growled. “Dad left because he couldn’t stand the thought of you taking money from Hydra so they could use their experimental serum on me.” You frowned. “He hated you for it! He hated what you became.” She screamed.

“So did you.” And with the flick of your wrist, the knife hurtled towards your mother, the blade narrowly missing her face and smashing through the wall behind her with the force of energy you put behind it. She screamed, stumbling back from the force and ducked as rubble cascaded down onto her and when she looked up, you were gone.

***

You came bolt awake in a cold sweat, heaving for breath, the voices replaying in your mind a few times. “Asshole.” You whispered as shook your head of the memory and sat up to look at the time. Three o’clock in the morning. It wasn’t like you were going to be able to get back to sleep, so you decided to get up and do something with yourself.

With a pounding headache, you left your room in search of something to quell the pain. As you walked down the corridor, you realised the living room light was on still and you naturally assumed one of the boys had forgotten to turn it off. But as you entered the living room, you saw Bucky sitting hunched over on the edge of the sofa, looking up at your sudden arrival like a deer in the headlights.

“Bucky.” You whispered. “What are you doing up so late- early- I don’t know.” You dropped your forehead into your hand and rubbed where the headache pulsed. It felt like your brain was two sizes too big for your skull. “Uh.” Bucky looked confused for a second. “Could ask you the same thing.” He responded simply. “(Y/n), I, uh. God, fuck me.” Bucky rubbed his face with his hands. “Can I sit next to you?” You asked, hesitantly taking a step towards him. “No.” Bucky face palmed. “Yes, please.” He almost squeaked out. Oh my god, you are so confusing Barnes. “That’s a yes or no answer question, not both.” You stated with a small smile on your lips. “Sorry, yes, please sit.” Bucky patted the seat next to him. God you’re bad at this, can’t even answer a yes or no answer question properly.

Bucky flinched when you approached and sat down next to him. “I’m not going to hurt you.” You tried to reassure him. “I know that.” Bucky nodded, leaning away from you. “I’m scared to hurt you, though.” Bucky dropped his voice into a whisper. A look of realisation crossed your features for a second. Wow you actually admitted that out loud, not sure if that’s good or bad, Barnes. Please don’t take it the wrong way, please. “You can’t hurt me, Bucky.” You gave him a small, sweet, reassuring smile as you looked up into his bright blue eyes. “I promise.” You did a quick demonstration of your abilities by plucking the piece of paper from between his fingers with your energy. Bucky stared at you for a second, completely dumbfounded. WhaAAT? This whole time she could make things fucking float? “Holy shi- you’re enhanced?” Bucky’s voice peaked. This is mildly terrifying. You smirked, pulling the card into your hands with your energy field. “I suppose you could call it that.” You shrug.

Your eyes look down at the little paper. A business card. It was the therapist you’d seen around that Wanda had mentioned a few times to you. “Steve set you up with her?” You ask, holding up the card with your hands this time before handing it back to him. “Yeah, wants me to go and see her.” Bucky sighed. “Think it’ll help?” You ask, sitting back against the soft cushions as you watched Bucky visibly relax a bit. “I don’t know.” He shrugged, following your lead and leaning back against the sofa. You reached out and hovered your hand over his flesh one, waiting for his approval to take it. Bucky intertwined his fingers with yours, his eyes fixed on your gentle gaze. “What do you think?” Bucky asked. Did you really just ask her opinion? Is that going to help? Oh god, she’s going to try and persuade you to do it. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, Steve might do that, but I’m not Steve.” You paused for breath. “Do you have anything to lose? The worst that will happen is that it won’t work or that you’re not ready to try it, that’s not going to hurt or kill you. But it’s ultimately your decision, Bucky.” You squeezed his hand a little. Bucky huffed.

She’s right. She’s so fucking right. What have you got to lose? Her… But going to a therapist is doing the opposite of putting her in danger.

Should listen to her more often.

“Maybe you’re right.” Bucky sighed. No, she is right you idiot. “No, you’re definitely right.” Bucky corrected himself. Good. You smiled up at him, not a ‘see I told you so’ sort of smug smile, no. It was a sweet, encouraging, gentle smile. Your cheeks warmed with a dusting of pink blush as you gazed up into his soft blue eyes. Oh god, she’s melting me. I’m melting. How does she do that? How are you so wrapped around her little finger? It’s that smile, that sweet little smile. Or the eyes, that’s probably it.

No, it’s her, it’s all of her.

“I’ll do it, for you.” Bucky whispered. Oh no, did you just say that out loud? You just said that out loud. Of course you fucking did. Urgh.

Oh but look at the flustered little smile, the blush, the way she’s looking away shyly. Oh so damn cute. Deeep breath. Bucky smiled at you goofily, getting lost in your beautiful features.

He would do it, for you. He knew he could.

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Forever Tag List:

@shygirl-00 @swanlakemikey @scuzmunkie@paintballkid711@lovelylilia @mapreza1 @love-bucky-3000 @cals-cigarette @scarlett-berserker @2407zzz@mercurybarnes @mywinterwolf @geeksareunique @fairislesheets @wendaiii

His Second Chance Tag List:

@socialheartbreak @whatsupbucky @yesno18 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @crystallstaircase @megantje123 @fantua @lady-x-red@buckys-islandgirl@chipilerendi @butteryoptimisticpeanut@wowitsemilysblog @dark-night-sky-99 @marvel-ous-bucky@rand0mfangurlstuff @tfandtws

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vintageneptune92 · 5 years ago

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Flicker, Fade Part 1

Here it finally is! So this is definitely going to be a multi-part story. I’m not sure if it’ll be 2 or 3 parts yet. We all know how wordy I like to get. I’m having fun with this one. I hope you enjoy it! I love writing OC characters because I like being able to describe their appearance. This story gives me the opportunity to do that, but still use it as a reader insert.

The word count obscene 15,000 even. I’m so sorry!

This is a combo of two requests. @justkending requested a Steve Rogers x Reader with prompts: “I warned you about him, yet again you didn’t listen.” and “It’s 6am- you’re not having vodka. @asgardiangurll requested a Steve Rogers x Reader with with prompts:”I’m never going to stop protecting you.”“You are seriously like a man child”

As always likes, comments and reblogs are SO APPRECIATED. Requests are open (Avengers, Supernatural, TVD/The Originals. I do dabble in some Green Arrow and The Flash (DC TV Only please). Prompt list can be found here.

Please let me know if you would like to be added to this tag list or one of my others.

Avengers Tag List: @shreddedparchment @fanfictionjunkie1112 @this-is-mycrisis @geeksareunique @mikariell95

Avengers Masterlist

Fate is a funny thing. Your mother always used to tell you that everything happened for a reason. The idea that going through difficult times to prepare you for what was to come or to lead you to something better kept you going, even in your darkest of times.

You grew up in New England with your mother, father and baby sister Ella. She had been the best surprise of your lives. You were 13 when your mother got pregnant. Everything happens for a reason and you were thrilled to have a sibling.

You were sassy and sarcastic just like your mother. You got your intelligence from your father and while things typically came easy to you; Your parents had made sure you were sufficiently challenged and worked incredibly hard. You had been granted the honor of Valedictorian your senior year in High School.

As a graduation gift and an 18th birthday present, You, your parents and your sister took a trip to tour Europe. You had never been happier.l, you were one of those kids that would rather hang out with your parents than a bunch of friends. Spending time with Ella was the highlight of your day, every day. The day of your 18th birthday had been one of your happiest. You spent an incredible day at Brighton Beach building sand castles with Ella and enjoying the amusement park rides in the seaside resort town. Her laugh as you whipped around the tilt-a-whirl would be embedded in your soul for the rest of your days. Your dad had ridden with you on all of the roller coasters and rides deemed too scary by Ella. Your mom wasn’t much of a ride person, but damn did she love her carnival games. Once you were back in London, your life would be changed forever. One moment your father was driving the three of you down the street laughing about how strange it was to drive on the opposite side of the street and the next you were being T-Boned by another vehicle.

Your parents and sister had been killed on impact. You had barely survived. Someone had pulled you from the wreckage. You were rushed to the hospital and woke up 2 days later. Before you even opened your eyes you knew something was different. You were completely healed. No lasting injuries, no deficits except the gaping hole in your heart. The doctor there tried to calm your anxieties, telling you everything was fine and you were just lucky. Somehow you knew the doctor was lying to you about how you had been treated. That night you had gone into the bathroom to examine yourself and were shocked by what you saw. Your natural hair color had been transformed into a liquid black that cascaded down your body. The most startling change was your eyes. Your once very normal eye color had been transformed into a shade of violet.

You had been frantically studying your altered appearance when the little girl sharing your hospital room bad woken up crying after a nightmare. You had sat down on her bed to comfort her. That was when you knew someone in that hospital had done something to you. By simply placing your hand over her arm, the bruises she had from falling out of a tree healed. You had heard about enhanced humans, you had seen them on your TV. Someone had turned you into one. The doctors that healed you had no idea what they had created, they couldn’t have. They never would have let you leave. The fear of becoming a lab rat caused you to keep it to yourself and when they finally discharged you, you got back to the US as fast as you could.

You had tried to dye your hair back to its normal state, but nothing would change the jet black that framed you. You took to wearing blue contacts to make your eyes appear a more normal color. You found out the doctor that treated, turned you into what you had become was looking for you. Once your family was returned home and buried you disappeared from everything you had known and loved about your home. You effectively erased Y/N Y/L/N from existence by faking your own death. People were led to believe you took your own life. After loosing everything you loved it wasn’t hard for people to believe. You had to leave everything about who you were behind.

Three years later, with a new identity, you were living in New York City working as a freelance journalist. You had changed your name to Camille Ballard and were trying to live a semblance of a normal life pretending you didn’t have any special abilities when a man opened fire on a huge crowd. You had grabbed a nearby child, held them close to you to protect them. Without evening trying, you formed a purple force field around the two of you, saving both of your lives. As soon as you realized what happened, you rushed home and packed as much of your belongings as fast as you could and planned on making a break for it. If that doctor saw footage of what you just did, he might figure out you were alive and come looking again.

Luckily for you, Iron Man had been there to help with the situation and saw what you had done. Before you had the chance to catch a bus, he found you and was set on recruiting you for The Avengers.

“Mr. Stark...you’re mistaken. That wasn’t me. I’m nobody. I’m like a ghost.” You were desperate to convince him you weren’t who he thought you was. But he knew.

“Then why are you trying to bolt with almost everything you own? C’mon kid...you don’t have to live a life on the run. I can help you. You don’t HAVE to be a ghost.” He wouldn’t relent and he wouldn’t let you leave.

Even though everything in your brain told you to run, your lonely heart was begging you to trust him, to let him in. He had saved the world more than once and here he was offering to save you. Your heart won and you broke down and told him your story. Tony Stark, with all of his bravado held you as you sobbed for your lost family, your identity and assuaged your fears of not knowing what had been done to you.

“Cam...I can call you Cam right?” His kind smile put you at ease. He made quite a few promises to you. He offered you a home and a family of sorts. He promised that he would find out what had been done to you. He promised to give you a purpose. Just like you knew that doctor was lying to you the day your parents died, you knew you could trust Tony Stark. Your mother’s voice telling you everything happened for a reason echoed in your brain. You had been given a gift, it was your responsibility to use it to do something good in this world. It was the best way to honor your parents and sister.

Tony eased you into life at The Avengers compound. He insisted you see a trauma counselor to really deal with the loss of your family. You had protested at first, you didn’t want to open up those wounds. He brought you to meet Pepper. She was the one that convinced you to get the emotional help you needed. She told you about Tony’s PTSD and how it had affected both of them. She promised that she and Tony would be there for you as you dealt with all of the pain you had buried for years. You finally agreed.

Once you were settled, Tony and Bruce began running tests to see if they could figure out what had happened to you. Best they could tell, someone had injected you with a serum, they just couldn’t figure out exactly what it was. Clearly it had been experimental because neither of them had seen anything like your blood work before. Bruce had been fascinated by your blood test results. Tony had been able to get his hands on old blood work from a well child visit when you were a kid to compare it to your blood today.

“Whatever they gave you changed your DNA entirely.” Bruce had been entirely fascinated until he saw the look on your face. “I’m sorry Camille. I know you feel like a science project.” Bruce knew all too well what it was like to be changed to your core. You realized that day you had made the right decision by coming to the compound. For the first time in years, you didn’t feel alone.

6 months after you had gotten there Tony had taken to calling you The Protector. You could heal yourself and others. Your fight or flight response produced the protective force field that would encompass you and anyone close to you. After a few months of work you could create them on demand. Your enhancements also made you as close to a human lie detector as someone could get. It took intense concentration to be able to tell if someone was trying to deceive you. Your new abilities made it so you couldn’t be hurt by anything physically or emotionally by anyone’s lies.

Once you had handle on what you could do, you needed to be able to fight, protective force fields weren’t enough. Offense was just as important as defense. Tony had paired you up with Bucky Barnes for your training. He and Bucky had gotten past their differences and Tony was in a mission to help put the Sergeant back together again. Tony was good at fixing people. You were Bucky’s first real assignment. Tony had a feeling that you would help James Barnes as much as he would help you.

Tony had been right. You kept a wall around yourself built with bricks of sarcasm, sass and witty comebacks. Bucky recognized this immediately and sought to dismantle your carefully constructed barrier to block anyone from getting too close to you. One night he had pushed you past your limits and you had broken down. Once the floodgates opened you couldn’t shut them. Bucky was the only other person you confided your full story in. Like Tony, you knew your secrets were safe with him.

Bucky had experienced his fair share of loss. He had been experimented on without his permission. He understood, he could empathize. He used your training to help you work through your anger and grief. You excelled under his instruction. You were a hell of a hand to hand fighter and other than Bucky you had the best shot in the compound. Your aim and speed with a firearm was impeccable. Slowly, Bucky became your best friend.

After almost two years of hard work and training you had been officially made an Avenger and had been working mission after mission for almost 8 months straight. It felt great to be able to help so many people, including your teammates. But you needed a little break to recharge. You requested some time off and decided to let loose a little bit. You had spent the evening out with some of the SHEILD agents. You had become friends with a couple of the girls that were in the cadet training program.

“Cami, I warned you about him, yet again you didn’t listen. You never listen when it comes to guys.” Bucky was giving you the once over. 6AM and you had stumbled back into the compound. You had stayed with one of the girls to sober up a little bit and were hoping to sneak back in unnoticed but Bucky was up early to train with Steve.

“I know...I know. But he was so cute, I was hoping he’d try to be a gentleman.” You pulled a bottle of Tony’s expensive Vodka out of the cabinet Bucky raises his eyebrows. “Just trying to ease into the hangover.” He grinned and shook his head. As you poured a shot, the bane of your existence stormed into the kitchen. Steve Rogers looked your tight jeans, heels and fitted black T-Shirt and scoffed in judgment.

“There you are Camille, I’ve been trying to find you since last night. Are you just getting home?” You gave him a deadpanned look. “Is there a reason why Agent Harrington is out of field work for two weeks with a broken nose and two black eyes and a concussion?” He had his hand on his hip and he was glowering at you.

“Well Agent Handsy was given fair warning” Bucky leaned against the counter. Watching you and Steve verbally spar was his favorite show. You said you hated Steve and his self righteous attitude. Steve said you got under his skin and didn’t appreciate your mouth and sarcasm. It was really a poor way to veil your mutual attraction. He saw how your eyes would linger on Steve while training. He watched Steve’s eyes soften on you anytime he thought no one was looking.

“What do you mean?” Steve’s voice dropped lower. First he was ready to rip you a new one, but he didn’t like the idea of anyone putting unwelcome hands on you. He rolled his jaw wanting to give the agent a few injuries himself.

“He thought that buying me two drinks gave him permission to put his hands on my ass. I told him otherwise. He did it again and I told him if he didn’t keep his hands to himself I was going to break his face. He thought that was an invitation to try and dip his hand down the back of my pants. I saw that as an invitation to bash his face into the bar. Maybe he’ll listen to the next girl and keep his hands to himself. Maybe if he apologizes, and means it, I’ll heal his pretty boy face.” It was out of character for you to lay hands on someone like that, but you couldn’t help but think of him doing this to some other poor girl who couldn’t stop him. He needed to be taught a lesson.

“That’s my girl!” Bucky laughed. The douchebag had it coming in his opinion. He was proud of you for sticking up for yourself.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t reprimand your for defending yourself . “I’ll have a talk with him.” You raised both of your eyebrows at Bucky in surprise. It didn’t matter what you did or the reasoning, Steve was usually pissed at you. He took the shot from in front of you and dumped it down the sink. Your jaw dropped and you glared at him.

“Hey!” You protested. It was Steve’s turn to roll his eyes.

“It’s 6am- you’re not having vodka.” You threw your hands up.

“What are you my dad? I’m on vacation.” You tried to reason, tone laced with sass, arms crossed in front of you. It was sometimes hard for Steve to believe you weren’t somehow related to Tony Stark.

“About that. I have a mission in South America and you need to come with me.” As much as your attitude pissed Steve off, you were a good teammate and excellent at what you did. You deserved some time to yourself, but he needed your skill set.

“What? No! C’mon! you promised me 7 full days off Freeze Pop.” Steve rolled his jaw at the nickname silently cursing Tony. His frustration with you was building up again. Why couldn’t you just do as you were asked, just once, without arguing.

“You speak Spanish fluently and I need a female agent with me.”

“So does Natasha. Last I checked she was also a female. Take her. I’m not really interested in pretending to be your significant other.” You knew the mission that he was referring to. The target was in vacation with his wife at some resort. The plan has been for a pair to pose as a couple on their honey moon to gain access to the resort and get closer and obtain as much intel as possible.

“It’s a recon mission. We only have one working appearance enhancer so I won’t be recognized. Nat is too recognizable. Plus you also have an uncanny ability to sense when someone is lying.”

“Natasha is an ex super spy. She would figure it out!” You knew you were fighting a loosing battle. Steve didn’t know why you really had asked for the time off, and you weren’t about to share your deepest secrets with him.

“Look, Nat is with Clint and his family for the weekend. I’m not asking her to come back.” Steve was fighting the urge to yell at you. He just wanted you to be compliant, just this one time. The idea of being close to you and alone with you had him unnerved.

“Of course. We wouldn’t want to ruin HER time off. This is bullshit!” Your voice dripped with sarcasm. You knew you were acting like a brat. You wouldn’t ask Natasha to come back. You were hoping to get him to push the mission back. Bucky’s head bounced back and forth between the two of you. He watched as Steve’s jaw clenched one more time and the little vein in his forehead pop. You were one of the few that brought this side of him out. He had infinite patience for anyone but you.

“ENOUGH!l He finally snapped. “Agent Romanoff has more than paid her dues! She’s been at it for years! I’m not going to drag her back from time with what she considers her family so you can go on a bender.” You took a few steps back and recoiled. Steve immediately regretted it. “Camille...”

“No it’s fine Captain. I get it. My need for a break is less important because what? I’ve been fighting with you for less time? I haven’t paid enough dues for you yet? Got it. Let me go get some sleep so I’ll be refreshed enough to serve you. Send me the itinerary so I’m ready when wheels go up. I’m a B-Team Avenger. No one knows who I am so for once in your eyes it makes me an asset.” You turned quicker not wanting him to see how upset you were. He wouldn’t understand why you were so upset. You thought it better he see you as a selfish brat than a broken woman.

“Cam...” Bucky’s voice trailed and you avoided his grasp.

“It’s fine Buck.” You quickly retreated. You’d be damned if you let Steve have the satisfaction of making you cry. If he knew the real reason you were brought to tears he wouldn’t revel in it. To Steve Rogers you were young, bratty and had a problem with authority. You’d like to keep it that way. It protected you.

Bucky gave Steve a dirty look and threw his hands up. “I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.” Steve deflated. “She’s just so infuriating. Every time she rolls her eyes at me I want to throttle her. It’s not like she can’t have her time off after we get back.” Your reaction didn’t sit right with Steve. You gave him a hard time, all the time, that was true. But you never argued about a mission.

“You know...if you dealt with your feelings, you might be able to keep it together with her." Bucky shook his head and started retreating from the kitchen. Steve cared about you, anyone that knew you could see you were funny, smart, caring and willing to put yourself on the line for anyone else. But you were afraid of letting too many people get close to you. Bucky knew you were afraid to really care about someone and lose them like you did your family. He knew you felt something for Steve Rogers too. So you kept him at arms length with attitude that drove Steve up the wall.

"Feelings? I have no feelings." Steve's face clouded with confusion. Bucky dramatically rolled his eyes. Apparently everyone was spending too much time with Tony. He turned and headed to follow you. “I thought we were training?” Steve called after Bucky.

"I'm going to check on Cami and make sure she's alright.” Bucky pauses for a moment. “There’s a reason why she gets under your skin. Ponder that.” Steve groaned as he watched Bucky retreating down the hallway.

***

"Hey! Knock much?!” You yelled out covering your shirtless torso with your blanket as Bucky barged in. He wiggled his eyebrows at you.

"That’s what you get for giving me the code to your room. Nothing I haven't seen before."

"Um...you haven't seen mine." He grinned at you and shut your door.

"Eh...you see one set, you've seen them all." you shook your head and rolled your eyes.

“You are seriously like a man child. Stop ogling me or I’m telling Nat.” You grabbed your shirt and turned around to throw it over your body. Bucky and Nat had been dating for about 6 months. You had watched him pine after her while he had been training you. It had been a relief when she finally made a move because he clearly never would. They were an excellent couple.

“Umm, hate to break it to you but Nat and I ogle you together behind your back. You’re hot and you have a killer ass. Plus she knows we’re BFFs and nothing is ever going to happen between us.” You felt your face heat up and laughed out loud at the thought of Bucky and Nat checking you out together.

“What do you want Bucky?" you asked while laughing.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright. He didn't mean it like that."

"I know. I'm just oversensitive and cranky because I only slept like 3 hours. I'll be fine after a nap." You climbed into your bed and rolled onto your side, your back facing Bucky. You were oversensitive, but you weren't fine. You felt a melt down bubbling under the surface. You just wanted Bucky to leave so you could do so in peace. Not that he hadn't ever seen you cry before, you just hated an audience. Instead of hearing him leave, you felt the bed sink as he sat down next to you.

“He doesn’t know why you wanted this week in particular off. If you would open up to him or to anyone else a little bit more they would all be there for you, support you. C’mon Cam, look at me.” When you didn’t respond, Bucky sighed, brushed the hair off the side of your face. “I wish you would talk to him. I think if you guys put your egos in check and opened up to each other you’d be really close. You should tell him it’s the anniversary of the accident. He’d want to be there for you. Steve is a good guy. The best guy I’ve ever known. You just needle each other. You’re the first person to really challenge him other than Tony. He doesn’t know how to handle it.” You scoffed. Steve Rogers was a first class asshole to you ever since your first mission with him. You sensed the mission was a set up, your insides had felt like they were on fire. You tried to tell him but he pushed forward with the mission. Sam has gotten pretty hurt. After you healed him you had lost your shit on Steve. It had been downhill from there. It was messed up, but you got a rush out of giving him a hard time.

You hated to admit it, but Steve Rogers was the most attractive asshole you’d ever laid eyes on. You often found yourself daydreaming about his hands. You had a thing for his hands. You got goosebumps anytime he touched you. He had gripped your hips one day trying to adjust your stance and it took all of your self-control not to throw yourself at him. And then there were his lips. His perfect pink lips that you wanted to devour just to shut him up.

You were jolted from your thoughts as Bucky leaned over and kissed your cheek. “I’ll come back in a couple of hours to wake you up with coffee and some food. Then I’ll help you pack for your ‘couples retreat’. By the way, I expect hilarious text updates since I won’t be there to witness the shit show of this mission.” You didn’t need to turn to picture the stupid smirk on his face. You and Steve would be investigating a crime ring. Some rich white guy hiding in Buenos Aires. Illegal arms deals, drugs, and pretty much anything else nefarious was in this guys wheelhouse. That was why Steve needed a female agent that wasn’t well known yet. He would be expecting the Avengers. This guy would see Natasha coming from 29 miles away.

“Thanks Bucky. In all seriousness you have saved me in so many ways.” you mumbled as he stood up to leave.

“Anytime kid, anytime.” He slowly retreated as you settled into your bed to go to sleep.

True to his word, Bucky came back with food and coffee a few hours later expecting to have to drag you from your bed. Instead he found you standing in front of the mirror on your closet door studying yourself. Freshly showered, your long black hair was fastened into a braid that served as your crown. It had taken one guy to grab you by the ponytail during a mission for you to change your hairstyle. That braided crown was now your signature look.

Instead of your black body suit you wore on missions you were clad in denim shorts and a tank top with tropical flowers and a pair of flip flops. ucky had a feeling the short shorts were to get under the skin of a certain Super Soldier.t. The blase look on your face told him you didn’t even realize you were dressed to drive Steve Rogers mad. You would have a certain gleam in your eye any time you did something to torture the poor Captain. He had seen Steve staring at your ass many times. Bucky took pleasure in the deep blush on Steve’s face any time he called him out. Those shorts were going to drive him insane.

“No suit?” You looked up when he questioned you.

“Not needed. It’s packed but we’re going to the safe house first and then we’ll take a cab to the hotel to make it look like we came from the airport.”

“You look cute.” He grinned. You threw a sneaker at him that he easily dodged.

“South America in the summer is stifling.” Your voice was flat, missing the normal spark.

“Doll, did you even sleep?” You looked over at him with a sad smile. It was jarring to see you so vulnerable. Bucky knew it had to feel good to let your guard down and just feel your feelings. You didn’t do it often. It was reserved for himself and Tony. He just hated that empty look in your eyes.

“That shot of Vodka would have helped.” You took a long sip of the coffee he brought you. “I’ll be fine Sergeant. Actually maybe working is better than not working.” Bucky pulled you into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry Cam. I really am. I wish I could go back and change everything for you.” You pulled back and looked at him.

“No. Everything happens for a reason. I have to believe that my parents and sister were saved from something much worse. I can’t live in regret or in the past. I’ve always given myself these few days to wallow. Maybe it’s time I move on from that too.”

“You’re so wise.” He grinned trying to lighten to mood. You groaned and pushed him away. He sat with you in a comfortable silence as you ate.

“When does Nat come back?” You finally spoke.

“Couple of days. She wanted me to tell you how sorry she was that she’s not here so you didn’t have to go.” You shook your head.

“You tell her there is nothing to be sorry for. She deserves her time with those kids. I know how much she loves them. I’m not mad at her and you know I really wouldn’t have let Steve call her back. He just caught me off guard.” Bucky picked up your bags and nodded to the door.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you to the jet.” You followed Bucky out of your room, part of you dreading this mission with Steve and part of you excited at the idea of really being alone with him.

***

“Agent Harrington- I expect that you’ve learned your lesson and will be keeping your hands to yourself from now on.” Steve glowered over the young agent. He had been ripping into him for the past half an hour.

“Seriously? Look what she did to me?!” He finally erupted.

“You put your hand in her pants. And before you try to deny it, someone already corroborated.”

“Of course they did.” Steve was appalled that he was showing no remorse what so ever.

“Something like this happens again and you will be discharged from this program, do you understand me?” He finally relented.

“Yes Sir.” He dropped his attitude. As he turned to leave you stood there with Bucky wide eyed. You thought Steve’s ire was reserved just for you. You hadn’t expected him to defend your honor. Steve’s deep blue eyes met yours for a moment and the fire behind them made your heart clench. Agent Harrington gave you an icy stare as he walked past you, but you were too busy staring at Steve to notice.

“I’m just gonna put your bags in the jet.” Bucky rushed past Steve to give the two of you a moment.

“He touches you again...he even glances in your direction in an unsavory way and you tell me.” Steve’s voice was low. You could only nod as your mouth had gone completely dry.” You blinked back shock a few times.

“Th-Thanks.” you finally managed to stutter. You couldn’t get over the way he was looking at you.

“There she is!” Steve watched your face light up at the sound of Tony’s voice, disappointed that he wasn't the one that caused the excitement in your eyes.

“I’ll meet you on the Jet. Take off in 5.” You nodded and turned to Tony.

“What are you doing here?” You didn’t think Tony was even on site today.

“Well...Cap told me about the impromptu mission so I just wanted to check on you. I know this is a hard few days for you.” He had his hand on your cheek and was smiling down at you. Tony Stark was looking at you like his own daughter. It choked you up a little bit.

“I’ll be fine. It’s probably better I’m going to be busy.”

“You sure? I can put the kibosh on this whole thing. Rogers thinks he’s in charge but we all know it’s me.” You laughed and he hugged you. "Did you get a chance to read the case file?"

"Yes Tony. Martin Cobb. Top one percenter, runs a BioTech firm Cobb International and owns multiple properties. We've got tips that he may be smuggling street drugs and illegals arms through the southern border. We're going down to whatever the hell that resort in Argentina is called. We received intel that he and his wife will be there this week. We're going in just looking for information from any of his associates and to get eyes on Cobb and watch him interact."

"Okay, just wanted to make sure you had everything. Don't do anything stupid. If you can interact with him safely, great. If not, stay away from him. We just want info, we don't want to tip our hand just yet." You nodded at Tony and he hugged you again. "When you get back, we're celebrating your birthday." He held his finger up before you could argue. "Yes. It's been 5 years. You should be celebrated." As much as you wanted to argue with him, you knew it was pointless. You simply hugged him again, thankful that he came into your life when he did.

Across the hangar, Steve was watching you and Tony with intrigue. He looked over at Bucky.

“What’s going on with her? Why is Tony here.” Steve rolled his eyes as Bucky shrugged. Frustrated that he knew there was something deeper here, but that no one would tell him. “Look I know there are things about her that I don’t know. I know she’s confided in you. Tony found her, I don’t even know where, and he kept her hidden for months and then he’d only let you train her. Is there something I should be worried about? Is there something I should know?” Bucky put your bags down.

“I can’t share her story. That’s for her to decide to share. She’s fine. You know Tony loves her like she’s his own kid. She’s never gone on a mission that he hasn’t seen her off on if he wasn’t going. She’s been through some shit. Tony knew that she and I would be a good fit. And he was right. Just try and not to let her get to you. Try keeping your temper in check and maybe she’ll open up to you.“ Steve did have a short fuse when it came to you.

“Rogers! Take care of my girl!” Tony yelled as you stepped towards the jet.

“Bye Bucky.” You gave him a quick side hug. “Ready Captain?” The mischief was back in your eye. He watched you walk onto the jet and groaned a little. You were going to kill him over these next few days if you were wearing outfits like that. Bucky clapped him on the shoulder but kept his comments to himself and headed back inside of the compound.

***

You were following Steve into the safe house from the jet. He was carrying 99% of everything. He’d only relented to let you carry your own bags. It must have been a 40s thing. He and Bucky would rather walk on hot coals than let you open your own door or carry more than them. You laughed when you entered the little cabin. While it didn’t look like much in the outside, it was very clearly a Tony Stark property.

“What’s funny?” He turned to you. It was a genuine question, you were used to his voice being laced with irritation

“I think safe house...I don’t think California King, high tech computers and what I’m assuming is a stocked fridge.” The one room cabin had a kitchen that led to a huge room with the large bed, a decent size couch against the wall and a computer station with dual monitors.

“That’s Tony for you.” You hummed in response. “So I just have to check a few things before we go to the hotel. You could uh, take a nap if you want. You look tired.” Your brow furrowed. Normally he would have lectured you about not getting more rest and being out all night. This must have been written across your face because he followed it up. "I know this mission wasn't planned."

“Can’t sleep.” You simply stated. You saw concern lacing his features. “I could use some fresh air. I’m going to check out our private beach if you’re sure you don’t need me?” The idea of a private beach for a "safe house" was hilarious to you.

“I’ll come get you when we’re ready to go. You nodded and headed to the back door. You paused before opening it and looked back to find Steve still staring at you. You gave him a small smile, still unnerved and slipped out the back door.

The warm briny air assaulted your senses, bringing you back to the last day with your family so many years ago. You sat down in the sand far enough back so were you were seated was dry, but just close enough to the water to where the waves washed over your feet and ankles as you extended them out. The tide was strong, you assumed that storms would be headed this way within a few days. Hopefully you and Steve were back home before that happened.

"Y/N! Y/N! Look at my sand castle!" Ella's excited voice flooded your memories. Her vibrant face and brilliant eyes laced with happiness as she pulled you to the little mound of sand she had created.

"Wow Ella, that's beautiful. What do you say we make a mansion for all of the little sea creatures here?" You sat down in the wet sand and grabbed her shovel and pales and began building your masterpiece.

Ella's giggles rang through the air as the tilt-a-whirl spun you around and slammed her little body into yours. "Again! Again!" She yelled as she dragged you off of the ride and back into the line.

You watched from a distance as your mother and Ella pointed the water guns at their targets, trying to get Ella a bigger, better prize as your father stood with his arm around you in line for the roller coaster. He pulled you close to him for a side hug. "I'm so proud of you Y/N. You worked so hard. You're an amazing sister. We're all going to miss you so much when you're at college in the fall. I can't wait to see the amazing things you do with your life. Happy Birthday sweetheart."

Metal crunching. Screams. The smell of copper assaulting your senses as you felt someone grip you by the waist and pull you out of the back seat. Flashing lights and sirens.

Your brain was assaulted with memories you often pushed down, but when you felt the foamy water hit your toes....you couldn't stop it. You didn't notice anyone approaching, not realizing you had been outside for almost an hour. After sitting for a while, you had stood and slowly strolled along the shore trying to push out the horrific memories of the accident and replace them with the happy ones of that day. You defensively smacked a hand away that gripped your shoulder your brought your foot down in a sweep to knock them down and spun, ready for a fight. The man sitting in front of you had Auburn hair and hazel eyes. You had no idea who he was, but then you gave yourself a second to notice his other features. That jaw line was unmistakable and you would recognize his hands anywhere. It took you a moment to realize who you were looking at and what you had done.

"Oh my god, Steve I'm so sorry. You scared the hell out of me. I’m- I’m not wearing the contacts so I couldn’t see through the appearance changing thing. I didn’t realize." You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. You put your hand out and helped pull him to his feet.

"It's okay. I didn't mean to scare you. I called your name but you didn't hear me. I forgot I looked different. Great reflexes by the way. Wait...are you crying? Why are you crying?" You quickly wiped the tears from your face, looking away.

"I'm not...it's, it's nothing. I'm fine." you stammered, cursing yourself for not being more self aware. Steve took a tentative step towards you, when you didn't flinch back, he put his hand on your cheek and turned your face back to him.

"It's not nothing. You wouldn't cry over nothing." He wiped a stray tear from your cheek. The way he was looking at you made you want to break down and tell him all of your secrets. Instead, you steeled yourself. Steve could literally see something change in your eyes as you pulled yourself together.

"You know I'm dramatic Steve." you adverted your eyes again. You felt his body deflate as he sighed.

"Camille...please don't do that. Please don't. Please don't cheapen your feelings and act like it's trivial." You felt your defenses building.

"Why do you care Steve? You hate me." You felt guilty as you saw a look of hurt pass his eyes.

"I...I don't hate you. I know I give you a hard time. But I don't hate you."

"Can we please just drop this? Please?" He dropped his hand.

"The cab will be here in a half an hour. It's about a 15 minute walk from the cabin through the woods where we're being picked up so no one is tipped off to the safe house. Meet me out front in 10." He turned to walk back to the house, not waiting for your response. Life was easier when you thought Steve Rogers hated you. You put your hand on your cheek, it still tingled from where he touched you.

***

You were going to die, you were certain of it. It was almost July in Argentina and it was a balmy 105 degrees. The air was thick with humidity. You had been walking for 10 minutes and were certain you were going to pass out.

"Steve...we have to stop for a second." You were so irritated with his Super Solider perfection. He had both of your bags thrown over his shoulders, heavy jeans and a t-shirt on ad was barely breaking a sweat while hiking through the woods to get to your destination. You, on the other hand were wearing barely any shorts and a tank top, your face was bright red and you could feel sweat dripping down your back.

"Cam...we're going to miss the cab. We're literally like 5 minutes from where we need to be." He was trying not to be irritated with you. When he saw you, leaning over with your hands on your knees he wanted to just pick you up and carry you too, but he knew you were to proud to ever allow that.

"How are you not dying in those pants?" You gestured at him.

"It's the serum. It regulates my temperature better than your body allows you to."

"I kind of hate you right now." You gave him a crack of a smile.

"I can carry you." He offered, knowing you'd say no.

"I'd rather die. Though I may die anyway." You were thankful that your hair was off of your shoulders.

"We're almost there. I promise." You nodded and stood up straight again after wiping your face on the inside of your shirt.

"I have dibs on the shower as soon as we walk into that room." Steve laughed and nodded in agreement. You managed the last few minutes of the trek. You had gotten there just at the right time for the cab to pull up. Steve piled all of your belongings into the trunk and you were on your way.

You were murderous when you pulled up to the resort. The cab that had picked the two of you up had been rickety and run down. The air conditioning in the car was broken and even with all of the windows open, all you could smell was the cab drivers BO. Steve could sense your mounting irritation and without thinking took your hand and squeezed it to try and calm you down. He felt you stiffen for a moment and then relax without making any eye contact with him. After a 45 minute drive you arrived at the front of a ridiculous resort. You hopped out of the car trying not to gasp for fresh air as Steve paid the driver and grabbed your things. He put his hand on the small of your back to lead you into the hotel. It was time to put your game faces on and play the happy couple.

Cold air blasted you in the face and Steve felt your whole body visibly relax from where his hand was rested. He led you over to the front desk as you looked around at the exorbitant display of wealth in front of your eyes.

"Mr. & Mrs. Buchanan checking in." Steve smiled kindly at the woman at the front desk. You had to hold back a snort. Clearly we were reaching the bottom of the barrel for cover names. Steve could see the twinkle in your eyes.

"Ah yes...I see right here Mr. and Mrs. Grant Buchanan." It took all you had not to roll your eyes at how your identity was lost at your supposed marriage. "Congratulations! I trust your wedding was wonderful." you stuffed your left hand in your pocket to dig out the faux engagement ring and wedding band and discretely slipped them on. Steve had already placed his on before you left. You were afraid the sweat dripping from your body would make them fall off.

"It was. We actually eloped. Rather spend the money on a great trip." You felt yourself lie. You really didn't want to have to come up with fake wedding details. As a little girl, you had dreamed about a wedding of your own, but that all changed. Now you couldn't even imagine letting someone close enough to your heart. The front desk girl seemed disappointed.You tuned her and Steve out as they finished chatting as she checked you in.

"Now I expect we'll see you both down here for dinner tonight. We have a wonderful band playing."

"Of course, we'll see you later tonight." You both declined having a bell hop escort you to the room.

“I thought this guy wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow? Why do we have to go to dinner tonight.” Steve gave you a pointed look.

“Because we need to blend in. Participating in their activities is necessary. I don’t want to stand out for showing up only when he’s around. Plus maybe we'll be lucky enough to get some intel from his associates.”

Steve opened the door for you to the room. You paused in the doorway. The rug what a deep red. The bed in the middle of the room was the largest bed you’d ever laid eyes on. It was on a massive gold head and foot board. The bedding was a rich cream. Mahogany night stands stood on each side. In front of the bed was a large cabinet with a huge flat screen TV. To the right was a matching desk with a brown leather chair. To the left led to a small living room area with a large brown plush couch and a table with two chairs against the wall. You could only imagine what the bathroom looked like. “This is...extra.” Steve shut the door behind you and carried your bags over to the couch. Your eyes flickered over to the closet at the garment bags hanging. You furrowed your brow. “What are those in the closet?”

“Tony apparently sent some items down, not trusting us to dress ourselves.” You laughed at the thought.

“Well he wasn’t wrong. I look like a hobo compared to the way some of those women were dressed.”

“You don’t look like a hobo.” You felt Steve’s gaze on you as you turned to look at him. “You just don’t need to try that hard.” You felt your breath hitch in your throat.

“Thanks.” What the hell was happening? Where was the Steve that cut you no slack and had something to say about everything you did? This was unexpected. You were prepared for the other Steve. “Hopefully Tony didn’t pack any dresses that make me look naked.” You turned as Steve scoffed.

“Tony would never send anything like that for you. He’d rather put you in a garbage bag that covered you neck to toe.” You pondered that and laughed.

“That is true. I’ve gotten the ‘you’re not going out like that’ lecture from him before.”

“Go take a shower. I’ll check in back home.” You grabbed your bag to bring into the bathroom with you. You paused before you closed the door.

“Thank you Steve.” You shut the door quickly before he could respond. You felt yourself blushing again. You had to get control of yourself.

You looked around and immediately fell in love with the bathroom. There was a huge whirlpool tub and large shower stall with multiple shower heads. Your planned on requesting a bathroom upgrade when you got home.

You studied yourself in the mirror. All of the makeup had essentially melted off of your face. Though still braided, your hair was frizzy from the heat and humidity. You looked hideous. But Steve had looked at you like...you couldn’t finish the thought. You looked at your eyes. Tony has made this pair of contacts especially for you. They changed your purple eyes to a bluish grey color.

You had wanted to open up to Steve on the beach. You wanted to tell him everything, mostly because you felt so damn lonely and you just wanted someone to hold you. No, you wanted him to hold you. You rolled your eyes at yourself and got yourself ready to shower. You couldn’t drag anyone into the mess that you were, especially not Steve Rogers.

A few hours later Steve was stepping out of the bathroom dressed in beige dress shorts and a cobalt blue linen shirt. Tony has sent loafers for him and these weird socks that only covered half of his feet so they couldn’t be seen. He looked around the room but didn’t see you. He didn’t think you would venture out on your own. He felt a little panicked, but then he saw you. You were standing out on the balcony looking out at the ocean. Your dark hair in waves down your back. You must have sensed him approaching because you turned and smiled at him. He wasn’t used to that. Normally you scowled at him. But that smile did something to him and he felt his heart rate speed up.

“You definitely don’t look homeless now.” He cracked. You tipped your head back and laughed. Tony could pick out clothes, he’d give him that. You were wearing a light teal silk dress that had white polka dots on it. It was a thin strapped v-neck wrap dress with a ruffled hem. You paired it with white strappy sandals.

“I don’t think I have ever seen your actual legs.” He felt a little self-conscious as you looked him up and down. “Are you wearing socks?” You scrunched you’re face up.

“Yes. You just can’t see them.” You roared with laughter.

“He packed you no show socks?!” You were stunning when you laughed. Steve only wished he could see your real eyes. They glowed magenta when you used your powers, but if you were laughing really hard they would show little sparks of the glowing color. The contacts covered that up. “That alone was worth the trip. You better watch it Captain. He’s going to make you high maintenance yet.” They way you called him Captain did things to him.

“You’re hilarious.” He deadpanned. You grabbed his hand and pulled him outside.

“Look at this view.” Your room faces the ocean. The sky danced with pinks, yellow and oranges as the sun set. “Do you see how harsh the waves are. There’s a storm coming. It’s a few days off, but it’s brewing.”

“How do you know?” When you looked over you expected him to be challenging you, hoping to prove you wrong. He looked genuinely interested. Not a hint of sarcasm in sight.

“I, um, I grew up near Cape Cod. I learned how to tell when a storm was coming.”

“No accent?” He was perceptive, but you knew that. He was trained to be.

“I worked hard at hiding the accent. Stops people from asking questions.” He nodded and took the hint. That was the first real piece of information you had ever told him about your past. He didn’t want to push his luck.

“Ready Mrs. Buchanan?” He offered you his arm. You rolled your eyes.

“Bucky made the reservations for you, didn’t he? Such a narcissist."

"Actually, it was supposed to be Bucky and Nat that did this mission, but she ended up having to leave." Steve chuckled as you linked your arm through his, leading you down to the dining room.

You and Steve were at the bar waiting to be seated. It reminded you of a wedding cocktail party the way they had everything set up. They had waiters walking around with appetizers. They would be opening the dining room in an hour for everyone to be seated for dinner service.

Playing Steve’s significant other wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be. You had to tell yourself that his comforting touches were an act. You forced herself to remember what he was really like. The “that’s not the way we do things agent” “you’re reckless, those force fields won’t be able to protect you from everything.” And so on and so on. You tried to march the criticism and the snarky comments through your brain, but with the way he was looking at you, the marching band refused to play.

He was sitting on a bar stool and you were standing in between his legs. Your insides were screaming for you to run away from the Captain, to say something hateful to annoy him you her heart wouldn’t allow you to form the words. You felt him put his hand on your lower back and pull you close so it looked like he was holding you in an embrace.

“These three men behind me are known associates of Martin Cobb, I recognize them from some of the intel. I've heard them mention Mr. Cobb a few times, but they're speaking to fast, I can’t understand what they’re saying.” You tried to concentrate on the words coming from their mouths but Steve was making it almost impossible. He had run the tip of his nose from your shoulder languidly up to your neck. You swallowed. You could sense the eyes of some of the resort employees on you and Steve. He was definitely putting on a show.

“They’re-“ You had to pause and clear your throat. “They’re discussing his arrival tomorrow. They are to proceed with caution as his wife will be here. He’s coming to see a shipment. They aren’t saying what it is though. The way they're talking, it has to be some sort of drug.” You felt Steve press a kiss to your shoulder, silently hating him for being so good at his job. He brought his lips up to your ear.

“Are you okay? Is this too much? I just, the people that work here seem to be rather interested in us. I'm starting to think they're on his payroll.” Steve Rogers, always the gentleman even when what he’s doing is part of the job. He pulled back to look you in the eyes. You nodded.

"I was thinking the same thing. I may not be as inconspicuous as we originally thought."

“Your table is ready Mr. and Mrs. Buchanan." Steve stood and took your hand to lead you as he followed the hostess to a table in the middle of the restaurant. You looked around hoping for something more private. You didn't want anyone overhearing your conversation. It was like the hostess could read your mind. “I’m sure no one will mind a little PDA. Mostly everyone here is newly married or celebrating their relationship.” Steve pulled out your chair and helped you sit down. Once the hostess left, Steve reached across the table and took your hand. You couldn’t discern what was real and what was him putting on a show, but the roughness of his hands was intoxicating. You found yourself not wanting him to let go. “You okay?” He broke your trance and you looked up and smiled.

“I am, I just feel a little on edge. But there are a lot of people here. You know, Bucky is going to be disappointed we haven’t almost killed each other. He wanted stories.” Steve threw his head back and laughed.

“Of course he does.”

“This, um, trip, was more suited for him and Nat I think.” You didn't want to call it a mission and have anyone overhear.

“I think we're doing okay." You couldn't look away from him. "Clint called and said Laura was having a hard time and they could use someone to distract the girls. The baby has colic." You shuddered, you remembered how helacious your sister's colic had been.

“You know I never would have let you call her back right? I shouldn’t have acted the way I did.” Steve, who was still holding your hand squeezed it.

“It’s forgotten. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. You have to know I don’t think of you as a secondary team member. You’ve saved so many people, including people on our own team.”

“Thanks Steve.” You were happy the lighting hid the blush on your cheeks. Your internally cringed at the amount of times you felt yourself blush. You felt like an idiot. The way Steve was looking at you, you felt like you couldn’t breath. He let go of your hand as the waiter approached. You took 3 long sips of your drink. You needed to shake Steve Rogers and his perfect eyes from your brain.

The rest of the evening had been uneventful in regards to Martin Cobb intel. Soon after you were done eating, the men left. You had suggested going back to the room to try and get a jump on the next day, but Steve shook his head.

“I need to show you something first." Steve led you outside onto the beach. You took your heels off and carried them so you could walk with him. He had his arm around you as he led you further down to the other side of the resort.

"Are you taking me somewhere to kill me? Where are we going?" He snickered lightly. He stopped when he got to a path that led to a wooded area.

"This is important. If you take this path right here, it cuts through the woods to the safe house. It's a short cut from. If we need to make a break for it...you go this way."

"You made me ride in that smelly cab for almost an hour when we could have cut through the woods? What is that building over there?" You saw a grey concrete building with a flat roof. It couldn’t have been more than two rooms on a single floor.

"I think someone would have noticed if we didn't arrive at the front entrance and were sneaking through the woods." You snorted when you laughed. You were about to make a smart ass comment when Steve grabbed you by your waist and pulled you to him. Your eyes went wide as he pressed his lips to yours. After a moment, you kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck, running your hand up the back of his hair. You were so focused on how his tongue was tracing the your bottom lip and how it felt to have his hands gripping your hips that you almost didn’t hear the man that was barreling towards the two of you.

"HEY! You two! You can't be over here!" one of the workers was running towards the two of you. Steve pulled back and you let out an involuntary whine.

"I'm so sorry sir. We just started walking down the beach and got a little carried away with each other, I didn't realize how far from the resort we had wandered." He saw the guy coming, that was why he kissed you. You felt disappointment creeping in.

"This area is closed off to guests. Please, head back towards the resort." Steve took your hand and started leading you back the other way.

"Right. We're so sorry." You were still stunned. Steve hadn't even warned you that someone was coming. You glanced back towards the little building you saw. There was a reason why they didn’t want you over there. You were sure that building was important. Steve pulled you along.

"It's alright...I know how young love is." The man chuckled as he followed you back. He didn't leave until the two of you were back in the hotel lobby. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Steve didn't say another word to you as he led you to the elevator or the entire ride up. Once you were back in your room and the door was shut behind you, he gave you a sheepish smile.

"I'm sorry. I just saw that guy almost running at us and I didn't want to blow our cover, I didn't have time to warn you."

"No...it's...it was fine. You just surprised me. I'm going to go change." You quickly grabbed some clothes out of your bag. You felt yourself get brave and you turned back to Steve who’s eyes hasn’t left you. “You know...for being a century old, you’re not a bad kisser.” You gave him a small smile and then shut the bathroom door behind you as his cheeks blazed red. You leaned your back against the door and put your fingers to your lips. Not ever before in your life did a kiss make you feel like that. You took a few moments to compose yourself after you changed into a pair of spandex shorts and an over-sized Stark Industries T-Shirt.

As you exited the bathroom, Steve was standing near your bag with a strange expression on his face. You looked down and saw the picture that you brought with you everywhere in his hands. You took a few strides over to him and yanked it from his hands.

“It- it fell out of your bag. Is- Is that you?” You looked down at the picture. It was at breakfast the day you lost your family. There was a birthday candle sticking out of your waffles. Ella was sitting on your lap as they sang to you, the waiter had taken the picture. You couldn’t remember the last time you looked that happy. Your face was exactly the same, but it had been a long time since you had seen your natural hair and eye color. It was almost jarring. You turned away from Steve and he could feel you bricking up the wall he started knocking down. “Camille...talk to me. Please. Who is that?” For all Steve knew, that could be your sister. You didn’t look like you anymore. You wiped a stray tear.

“I haven’t been that girl in a long time. She’s a ghost Steve. She’s no one.” He pulled you back to him.

“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that. You can trust me. Don’t shut me out.” You cleared your throat and pulled your arm away from Steve so you could hug yourself.

“That was me, 5 years ago. 5 years ago to this day. My parents and sister were killed in a car accident while we were in a vacation in Europe. I should have died too, I sometimes wish I had died too. They injected me with whatever made me like this. I think whoever made me was looking for lost causes, people near death so that if their formula backfired, no one would suspect anything. But here I am. They were a success. But the girl in this picture is dead and gone.” Before you could walk away from him, Steve pulled you to him in a bone crushing hug. He didn’t say anything, he just held you as you felt hot tears fall down your cheeks.

***

You didn’t remember falling asleep. You felt like there was a heavy iron curtain hanging over you. You slowly blinked your eyes open and you were in bed, laying on your side facing the huge glass doors that led out to the balcony. You felt Steve’s body pressed against your back as he snored lightly. His arm thrown over your body. You stayed there for a moment enjoying the heat of his body and the safeness of his embrace. You slowly slid out from his grasp and grabbed your phone as you slid your flip flops on. You needed some air and some coffee.

You scrolled through your phone and saw a handful of missed calls and messages from Bucky. Did you guys get there okay? Have you driven Steve crazy yet? Why aren’t you answering me? Did Steve kill you already? And then the final one- Steve called me after you fell asleep. Call me when you get up.”

You closed the door slowly behind you so it wouldn't wake Steve and headed downstairs. You slipped through the lobby and headed out towards the back patio where breakfast was set up, in desperate need of caffeine. After you poured yourself a generous cup, you found a secluded table in the corner of the deck. You moved your chair so it was facing the railing and looking out over the ocean. Once you were situated you pulled your knees close to your body and dialed Bucky's number. It rang a few times before his gruff and sleepy voice answered.

"It's 5am Doll." Was all he said.

"Well good morning to you too."

"It's 7am there. What the hell are you doing up already?" You listened as his voice slowly became more alert. "Are you okay? Steve told me about the picture, and you breaking down, and....I didn't think you'd ever tell him." You took a drink of your coffee.

"I"m fine. If he hadn't found that picture I probably wouldn't have, and I didn't tell him much. It was kind of cathartic. And Steve on this mission is much different than any other Steve I've worked with. And what was I supposed to do? Tell him it wasn't me? Believe me, I tried to not tell him. He just looks at you with those stupid blue eyes and you want to tell him all of your secrets." You had his full attention now.

"Stupid blue eyes huh? Exactly how well are you and Steve getting along?"

"Shut up Bucky."

"I KNEW IT! YOU LIKE HIM!!" He yelled into your ear.

"You're insufferable." You looked around to make sure no one was paying attention, and also to make sure Steve wasn't sneaking up on you to hear your confession. "I can't keep anything from you, even if I should and want to. I may have a little crush." You rolled your eyes in defeat. Bucky Barnes would never let this go now.

"Little crush huh?"

"Okay fine, a huge one. But it's this mission. Pretending to be newly weds...all the fake affection, the kissing. It's messing with my brain."

"Wait...hold up. You kissed him?"

"Technically he kissed me. I just kissed him back." Bucky was making some sort of celebration whooping sound when you followed it up. "It's because we were sneaking around the property and got caught. He was trying to blow it off as us getting carried away."

"Was there tongue?" She could see him wiggling his eyebrows in her mind.

"Shut up. I hate you." She clenched her jaw as he laughed at her expense.

"Well that's a yes. I mean...I always knew your hatred for him was just a veil of your feelings."

"There are no feelings. It's a crush. I'll get over it." You said the word feelings like it was a curse word.

"Sure you will. Listen...I'm going back to sleep now that I know you aren't going to jump off the deep end. And maybe explore the possibility of feelings for Steve." Her shook his head when you scoffed. "And Cam?"

"Yeah Buck?"

"Happy Birthday." And with that he hung up the phone. You shook your head as you set your phone down on the table and took another sip of your coffee. The wind was whipping through your hair and you saw the dark clouds slowly approaching. The rain would start soon. The idea of a heavy storm trapping you on the island made your anxiety kick up. Then you thought about being trapped on the island with Steve and you settled into your thoughts.

"Well you look lonely." About 15 minutes later a voice yanked you from your daydreaming thoughts of Steve Rogers. You slowly turned to see a beautiful middle aged woman standing in front of you. She had beautiful curly dark hair, deep dark eyes, full lips and a gorgeous smile. Age barely marked her face. "Where is your other half?

"I'm sorry....do I know you?"

"Oh I'm sorry dear! I'm Maria Alvarez Cobb." you heard the alarm bells going off in your head. This must be Martin Cobb's wife. "I'm just surprised to see a lovely young woman like yourself sitting alone outside at a couples resort."

"Oh! My husband is still sleeping. I woke up early and couldn't fall back to sleep, but I didn't want to wake him, so I came down for some coffee and to get some fresh air before it gets so warm later today."

"If you don't mind me saying, you look rather young to be someone's wife." She took an uninvited seat at your table.

"Newly weds. I look young for my age." She wasn't being dishonest. You would know if she was, you would sense it. But something about her was off, you were sure of it.

"I didn't catch your name." You frantically tried to remember the name that was on the reservation. No one had called you by your first name.

"Ainsley...Ainsley Buchanan." How you plucked that out of the back of your brain, you'd never know.

"Stark Industries? Do you work for Tony Stark" she motioned to your t-shirt. You silently cursed yourself. Rule number one was never, ever let anyone associate you with anything Avengers or Stark related when on an undercover mission."

"Oh no...my brother Peter has an internship with Mr. Stark. A perk is plenty of free T-Shirts." She smiled.

"It must be nice to be close to a sibling." It felt like everything she said was an accusation. You simply smiled at her.

"Well, I think I'll go and see if my husband has decided to wake up yet." You stood to walk quickly away and she grabbed your hand.

"Ms. Buchanan, my husband and I are inviting all of our guests to our anniversary party tonight at the resort. I do hope you'll be able to attend with your husband. I'd love to meet him. I try to meet all of our guests when we come down to stay here."

"Your guests?"

"Oh dear, my husband and I own this resort." You tried to keep your face as neutral as possible, on the inside you were screaming.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't even realize!" you feigned embarrassment.

"Oh don't apologize. I wouldn't expect you to know. Will we see you tonight?"

"We wouldn't miss it for the world

As soon as you were out of anyone's line of vision you moved quickly to the stair well and ran up the stairs, not trusting yourself to be on an elevator with anyone else. Your hands were shaking as you tried to unlock the door. You cursed as you dropped your phone and it hit the bottom of the door. Steve must have heard you because he opened it before you could even put the key card in the door.

"Camille, what in the hell?" He looked at your disheveled appearance, panic spread all over your face.

"Shhh...let me in and shut the door, NOW" You yelled at him in a whisper. He moved so you could rush in and shut the door. He turned around waiting for an explanation for your frantic behavior.

"Steve...I fucked up. I fucked up BIG time."

"It's 7:40 in the morning? How could you have possibly messed up?" You internally rolled your eyes at his refusal to use the same curse word you had. You took the ends of your shirt so he could read the logo. He squinted his eyes and shook his head to indicate he wasn't following your train of thought. "Okay I need you to say actual words."

"I woke up early and didn't want to wake you. I didn't even remember falling asleep last night to be honest. I felt foggy and I wanted some fresh air and coffee. I'm so sorry for breaking down like that. I'm such a fucking baby." Steve grabbed you by your shoulders.

"Camille...I need you to focus." You closed your eyes for a moment and when you opened them, he was looking at you with more concern that you had ever seen on his face before.

"Sorry. I went downstairs to call Bucky because he left me like 1800 messages. I didn't even think to change my shirt. When I got off the phone with him, this woman came up to me. Maria Alvarez Cobb."

"Shit..." Steve let you go.

"I know. She was asking why I was alone. I told her my "husband" was still asleep and I wanted to enjoy the weather with my coffee. She mentioned the shirt. She asked me if I worked for Mr. Stark. I told her my brother Peter interned for him."

"So you covered. It's not that bad."

"Steve. It's bad! When are you going to realize I can sense when something is off? It's more than just knowing when someone is lying. Lately...it's like I can sense the negative energy in the air. I felt off around her. She wasn't lying to me. But the warning bells were ringing in my head. She was definitely suspicious of me. She invited us to their anniversary party tonight. Actually, she said she was inviting all of their guests to the party. She and Martin Cobb own this place."

"What? That's not listed anywhere."

"I KNOW!" You threw your arms up. "I'm such a fuck up. I should know better than to even bring this shit with me on a mission."

"Cam...stop. It's okay."

"You're not going to yell at me?" You jolted back, looking at him in shock.

"No...it was an honest mistake." Your drew your eyebrows together.

"You're not so calm because of you feel sorry for me, this isn't pity Rogers, is it?"

"Oh my God will you stop?" You crossed your arms in front of you glaring him down. "It's not pity. But it's already done. So now we just have to tread lightly from here." You nodded, relaxing your posture.

"You put me to bed last night."

"I did."

"You held me."

"I did. You needed it." He waited for you to say more, but he could tell you couldn't find the words. "We all have baggage Camille. We all have scars. You don't have to bottle them up. We're all here for you. Not just Tony and Bucky. If you talked more, you might not feel broken. I'm here for you. You needed someone to be there for you last night. I'm here for you, any time you need someone." You nodded.

"Thank you. I'm not ready to talk more just yet. But thank you."

"You're welcome. Now let's order some room service and get to work researching this woman and try to figure out what shipment they're expecting."

***

Your nerves were shot. You and Steve found out next to nothing about the Cobb's. Maria was even more of an enigma than her husband Martin. As far as they could tell, Martin Cobb ran a BioTech company. There were none of the usual "drug front" businesses under Cobb International. Martin and Maria bought the resort 6 months ago. You were standing near the glass door staring out at the whipping wind and the heavy rain.

"I mean it makes sense why we didn't know they owned the place. I just can't figure out what it is that he's selling. We thought it was drugs and arms deals. Maybe we're wrong." Steve fixed the tie around his neck. You had been pacing all day. Pacing back and forth in front of the door. Pacing around the room. You couldn't sit still. "Camille, you're making me dizzy." You spun and looked at him and gave him a sheepish smile. You were wearing a black sweetheart neckline dress. It was chiffon with a small embellished belt and a high-low hemline; the shortest part of the dress just long enough to hide the thigh holster for your weapon. You paired it with flat gold gladiator sandals. You didn't want to have to fight, or run in heels. Your hair was in it's signature braid wrapped around your head.

"Steve...I just have a bad feeling about this. Maybe we should call this mission and re-group. This storm is going to get worse. If we get into trouble, we wont be able to fly out of here."

"No...we're here. It'll be okay. They aren't going to do anything in a room full of people. C'mon, let's go down there for a while, see what's up and if you still feel like this, we'll leave and go to the safe house. I already have Tony and Bucky on standby." You nodded. He put his hand on the small of your back to lead you out of the room, he’d been doing it for the past two days and you didn’t think you would ever get sick of it.

Waves of anxiety passed through you as the two of you made your way into the ballroom. . Gold and crystal chandeliers hanging throughout the ceiling. Everything else in black. Black chairs, black table cloths. Then the gold and black plates. You grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

“I don’t know if getting drunk is our best play.” Steve whispered into your ear. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh grow up. A glass of champagne isn’t going to get me drunk. It’s going to calm my nerves.” You watched Steve’s jaw tick as you rolled your eyes.

“I swear to God if you roll your eyes at me again I’m going to roll them back for you. That drives me insane.” He whispered harshly in your ear. So it was the eye rolling that got to him, you did it often, which explained why he was always so triggered by you. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Now is not the time or the place to threaten me with a good time, Captain.” The snarky comment came out of your mouth before you could stop it. You both stood there awkwardly for a moment staring at each other until Steve cleared his throat.

“We should probably head that way.” Steve pointed you towards the back corner of the room. You nodded and let him lead you there. Here you were, probably walking into your deaths and you were flirting. You internally chastised yourself and thanked God no one else was on this mission. You’d never live it down.

The two of you tried to eavesdrop on whatever conversations you could but got no information. Whatever was happening was deep under wraps. Martin Cobb didn't want his dealings around his wife, the men you had listened to last night made that clear. You should have known you wouldn't have been able to pick up on anything. You could feel the electricity and anxiety coursing through your body. You felt Steve’s hand on your thigh to stop you from bouncing your leg. He had just gotten back from making another round of the room.

“I haven’t even seen the Cobbs.” You commented.

“I know. Let’s get out of here. We’ll pack our things and head to the safe house and see what to do next.” You were about to agree with him when you froze cold in your spot. “What? What is it?” You spotted a man across the room. You hadn't seen him in 5 years, but you would recognize him anywhere.

“That- that man over there. That’s Dr. Yablowsk, the doctor that treated me after the accident.” He was tall and slender. Balding with white hair. He actually reminded you of Mr. Burns from The Simpsons. Steve saw a variety of emotions pass through your eyes.

“You mean- he’s the one that made you the way you are?” You nodded.

“He has to be. He was the only doctor that I saw the day of the accident. This can’t be a coincidence. Screw going back to the room, we’re leaving now.” You grabbed Steve’s hand and were about to drag him out of the room when you saw Maria Alvarez Cobb approaching you.

“You must be Mr. Buchanan. I met your lovely wife Ainsley this morning.” She shoved her hand at Steve and he graciously accepted the hand shake.

“Yes ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Ainsley told me she met you this morning and you personally invited us. Happy Anniversary.” Steve watched as the color drained from your face.

“Such a gentleman too. Hold on to this one Ainsley, good men are hard to come by.” Her smile seemed genuine, but she kept saying your name like it was an accusation. She knew you weren't who you said you were. You could tell by the way she was looking at you.

“I need to use the restroom.” You quickly slipped from the two of them and rushed outside. You felt sick. Your head was pounding and you had to get away from that woman. Once you were out of their line of vision, you headed outside. The rain soaked you as you you slowly started to make your way to the edge of the woods. You were hoping Steve would meet you there when you weren't by the restroom. You were banking on his uncanny ESP to know exactly where to go and what to do at all times. You paused when you got close to that little concrete building. The lights were on and you heard two men arguing.

“I need to get to the party. My wife is there and she’s trying to keep her at that party.”

“Martin- this isn’t a good idea. Just let her go, we have more. We can make more.”

"NO! She's the first. She was our first successful case. She slipped from my grasp back then. I finally have the opportunity now!" You stumbled back.

They were talking about you. They had to be. You quickly slipped between two bushes and squatted down before you could be seen. You watched as Martin Cobb stormed out of the little building and headed towards the resort. You felt your hands shaking as you pulled your phone out of your small purse to text Steve. You warned him this was a trap and described where you were hiding.

The warm rain was making your dress stick to your body and the wind was almost knocking you over. You kept looking at your phone to see if Steve would answer you, but he hadn't said a single word back. You were squatting down trying not to hyperventilate and saying a silent prayer when you saw Steve coming about 20 minutes later.

“What the hell is going on?”

“We need to get out of here. I’ll explain at the safe house. We are NOT safe. They know who I am.” Steve gave you a questioning look but accepted that you would explain when you were out of danger. The two of you moved as silently as you could. You were about go into the woods when you saw someone step out of the building.

“Y/N YLN” Your head snapped over to him as he called your real name. Steve looked at you in confusion. No one knew what your real name was except Tony Stark, not even Bucky knew.

“Who the hell are you?” You couldn’t get a good look at him, but he was tall and muscular with a shaved head.

“My name is Nick Webster, I’m the man that pulled you from the wreckage 5 years ago. I’ve been helping Martin and Dr. Yablowski look for you. It was smart, faking your suicide. But then Tony Stark found you and I knew...I just knew it was you. We didn’t realize how much your appearance had changed. You became a completely different person from when I saw you to when the doctor saw you. You know what gave you away?”

“Meeting Maria this morning.” The man laughed.

“Well that certainly didn’t help. No, that made us suspect something was off with you and your husband, that and the report that you were wandering a little to close to the woods. But it’s how you wore your hair tonight. It’s your look. “The Protector” always wears her hair like that. Don’t you realize that Martin Cobb is the one that sent all of those tips in to The Avengers? He's not dealing illicit drugs or illegal weapons. He's too smart and sophisticated for that. He wanted you here. I don’t know how he got so lucky that you were the one that came. You were his first creation. What’s shocking to me is that Tony Stark would send his Little Orphan Annie all by herself. Don’t you normally have that Super Soldier by your side? The ex assassin that is excellent at murder? The Winter Solider is it? Instead they send you with some B-List agent?“

“Actually, they sent her with me.” You and Nick Webster turned to where Steve Rogers was standing. You watched as Steve reached behind his ear and turned off his appearance enhancer. While you couldn't see his transformation because of your contacts, Nick saw the auburn hair melt into his normal dirty blonde rocks and his hazel eyes transformed into his piercing blue that were narrowed on Nick Webster.

“Oooo Captain America! You must really be important to Stark.” Before you knew what was happening Steve took a few strides towards you and shoved your out of the way as Nick charged at him. You tried to get the comm that was in your bag into your ear as the two men fought. You knew Tony and Bucky were standing by waiting to hear from you and Steve. It was the quickest way to get a distress signal to them. You dropped your bag when you saw Nick pull out a blade and he was inches from stabbing Steve in the spine. You heard Tony’s words in your head. “C’mon kid, I bet if you concentrate hard enough you can throw a force field at someone to protect them if they aren’t next to you. Let’s try.” You had been working at it for months with Tony. You had come close a few times, but it never worked. "Maybe you just need the right motivation. It took a while for you to be able to create them on demand. We'll keep working at it. We'll get this."

You felt power surging through your body as your hand shot out towards Steve. You watched with slight awe as a purple orb few from your hand and surround Steve Rogers. The force almost knocked you over and took a lot of your strength. You were leaning against a tree to support yourself when you felt Nick’s blade pierce through your abdomen. You cried out in pain and fell to your knees. You held your hand to your stomach and tried to heal the wound, but nothing was happening. You watched as he stalked towards Steve and you quickly pulled the gun from your holster.

“Hey Nick!” You called out and as soon as he turned you put a bullet between his eyes and you fell to the ground. You silently thanked Bucky Barnes for making you an excellent shot.

“Cami...why didn’t you heal yourself?” Steve had ran over to you and dropped to his knees. Tendrils of your jet black hair had slipped from your braid and were sticking to your face. The pelting rain washing off the wet sand stuck to your face. Steve was frantic and trying to see the wound. He watched as you put your hand over where the blade had sliced through your body. Your eyes glowed the shade of magenta he had been enthralled with since the day he met you and he watched as it quickly flickered out. When he looked down at the wound it was still bleeding.

“It’s not working. I don’t know why.” You mumbled, barely discernible.

“There must have been something on that blade that is affecting your healing ability. If Martin Cobb is the one that made the serum, he may have made something that can hinder hurt you.” Steve pulled his jacket and pressed it to your wound.

“I can still feel my powers below the surface. They’re just not strong enough to heal myself. He didn’t take them away.” Your voice cracked as you spoke.

“Dammit Camille, why did you throw that force field? Why didn’t you protect yourself?” Steve was pushing the wet hair off of your face and forehead. You gave him a weak smile.

“The team needs you more than they need me. You’re our leader. Besides, I’m always going to protect you.” You were starting to feel light-headed, and your vision was blurring.

“Cami…you don’t have to protect me. There isn’t anything that man could have done to me that I would survive. I’m a Super Solider. Getting beaten half to death and falling out of the sky didn’t kill me. You should have protected yourself instead.” Steve was saying more things to you, but you couldn't focus on everything that he was saying. Bits and pieces came through. He was yelling at you and begging you to stay with him when you felt a warm blanket of black fall over you.

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