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maybankiara · 4 years ago

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YOU GOT ME DOWN ON MY KNEES, BEGGING PLEASE

pairing: Rafe Cameron x Topper’s sister!Reader

summary: There’s a game you and Rafe play – you flirt with boys and wait until he can no longer keep away from you, even if you’re keeping your thing a secret. It’s all fun and games until feelings get involved.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: underage drinking, drug use, mild cursing, mild smut

requests are open

Yet another party. When will Topper have enough of those?

You sit in front of the vanity in your room, adding finishing touches to your makeup. The girl that stares back at you is fierce and seductive, with the cat-eye eyeliner threatening to cut a bitch. Your lipstick is red and so is your dress, which is as short as it gets without actually revealing anything. The plunge on your chest is deep, but still leaving things to imagination, teasing just enough to give you the attention you’re looking for.

Outside, you hear teenagers screaming and laughing and chattering, and you start wondering when you stopped being one of them.

You’re still a teenager, technically, but lousy parties don’t interest you anymore. There are other things that give you thrills nowadays.

Once you’ve made sure the lock on your door is in place, you make your way to the poolside. There’s some people chilling inside the house, in the kitchen and the living room, and you smile at them. Most of them say hi to you, try to start up a conversation, but the Kook queen has other things on her mind.

‘Hey, sis,’ you hear Topper say once you’re at the terrace. He’s wearing just swimming shorts, like most of the boys, and he has an arm wrapped around his little girlfriend. ‘Nice of you to finally join the fun.’

‘Get lost, Topper.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Topper salutes you and you roll your eyes at him, huffing. As you watch him walk away with Sarah, you think that perhaps you should take it a little easier on him – you’re the one Dad has appointed as the heir of the Thornton empire. If you were in Topper’s place, you’d be a lot more bitter than he is.

At the pool, there’s a few people you recognise from your high school days. You walk over to them, pouring yourself a drink from an open wine bottle you find laying about. These people are not your friends, but you still smile when you see them, because they’re entertaining enough.

‘Y/N, you look amazing!’

‘Thanks.’

‘How’s college life treating you?’

For some time, you make small talk, get some more drinks from them, but you don’t find it interesting. These people are not the people you would choose to surround yourself, but then again, your college friends aren’t exactly your type of people, either.

Your type is the forbidden one.

Speaking of, you glance at the watch on your wrist. He’s late, and you’re starting to get bored.

Someone jumps into the pool. Someone pours alcohol over a person sitting close to you, and a fight almost erupts. ‘Calm down,’ you say, lazily, ‘or you’re getting kicked out.’

The two boys look at you. Their hands are still at each other’s collar, faces enraged.

You quirk an eyebrow. ‘Today?’

They see you’re annoyed, and even if it’s not because of them, it’s enough to get them to walk away from the fight. Someone says ‘wow’, and they start talking to you again, but you’re starting to have enough of them.

There’s noise coming from the terrace, where all the tables and the couches are, and you look over there – just in time to see the familiar tall blonde in preppy clothing take a seat, already preparing to do a line of coke.

‘I’ll see you guys later,’ you say.

The walk to the terrace is slow; you take your time, eyes trained on the boy, despite the fact he hasn’t noticed you yet. You swing your hips, and flick your hair over your shoulder, lips settling into that comfortable smirk that you’re known for.

He may not be looking, but others are, and that’s almost enough.

Just as you step on the terrace, your heels clicking against the wooden floor, your eyes meet his. You see him look you up and down, take you in, swallow as his face tenses.

The smile on your face turns coy.

A boy approaches you. He’s tall and attractive, demeanour interesting enough for you to give him the time of the day. ‘Hey, Y/N. Who you looking so stunning for?’

‘Who knows,’ you reply. ‘Maybe I don’t know the lucky person yet.’

You lean your back against the wall of your house and the boy puts an arm next to you, grinning as he’s won the lotto. Idiot. ‘Accepting applications, then?’

‘Depends on the applicants.’

He leans even closer, and your eyes glance to his lips. He notices—just like you wanted it too–and then you turn your head away, making direct eye contact with the blonde from before.

Rafe is still chatting to the people at the table, but you can tell he’s already having difficulties staying in place.

Good.

The boy offers to get you a drink and you wait for him, chatting to a group of girls that were a year below you in high school. You see them look at you in awe, taking in your every movement, wanting and wishing they could learn from you.

Sorry, girls, you think. This is natural talent.

He comes back with a cup filled with tasteless beer, and you smile as you drink it despite all you can think about is the rows upon rows of your mother’s finest wine collection in the basement. You could have a bottle of the best wine, yet you’re stuck here, drinking piss beer, because Rafe is taking his sweet time.

You dismiss the boy with a promise to add him on Instagram. You keep leaning against the wall, and you push the hair behind your shoulders, revealing the bare skin.

You don’t look at Rafe as you chat to another boy, but you can feel his eyes on you. You know exactly what he’s thinking about – his lips pressed against the skin on your shoulders, the sweet spot right behind your ear, your hair getting in the way as you are making out.

‘Any plans for tonight?’ Boy No. 2 asks.

‘Not yet.’

‘I have a couple of ideas.’

He’s awfully close, and you’re starting to get annoyed at Rafe for taking so long, so you decide to up the risk. You do the glancing at the lips thing again, feeling the heat of Rafe’s gaze. You smile at the boy in front of you and your hand travels to his bicep, playing with the hem of his short sleeve.

‘Oh,’ you whisper, ‘I’d like to hear them.’

‘Or I could just show you.’

He’s so close that you can feel his breath fanning your earlobe and it takes a lot not to shiver.

You glance at where Rafe is sitting, and he is staring right at you, looking as if he’s about to combust; his hair is ruffled and one button on his polo shirt undone, fingers tapping against the table.

Even from here, you see his eyes overcome with jealousy and possessiveness, and it only makes you smile at the boy, giggle a little, and say you’d like him to show you.

‘I need to talk to Y/N. Get lost.’

‘Hey, man—’

‘Was I asking?’

The boy leaves, raising his hands in defeat, but he signals you to call him.

You sigh and finally look at Rafe, crossing your arms at your chest. He’s standing in front of you, shielding you from anyone willing to shoot their shot with the Kook Queen, and his eyes are dark, lips dry. Seeing them like that makes you lick your own lips, and Rafe’s eyes are drawn to them immediately.

‘Stop it,’ he says.

You give him an angelic smile. ‘Or what?’

Rafe doesn’t say anything, but his chest is going up and down rapidly, and you know exactly what he’s thinking.

You reach for his hand and put a small metal object on it. ‘Took you long enough.’

He nods and leaves with the key to your room, and you wait a little before walking into the house after him. People say hi to you again, tell you even more how gorgeous you look, and you pretend to care. Instead of following Rafe, you go into the basement and grab one of the wine bottles your mother isn’t going to miss.

Your room is quiet when you enter. You expect to find Rafe on your bed, but he isn’t there, so you just lock the door behind you and put the wine bottle on the night stand right next to your bed. The glasses are already there – waiting to be filled.

You feel Rafe’s lips on your shoulders before you hear him. Your body reacts instinctively, as your head tilts to the side to expose the area.

‘Took you long enough,’ Rafe whispers against your skin.

It’s enough to give you shivers.

You close your eyes as he wraps his hands around you, pulling you close. He places kisses all over your shoulders, the travels up your neck and right behind your ear, all while playing with the hem of your dress, his fingers sliding over the upper area of your thighs.

A sigh escapes your lips, wanting, but you collect yourself and push his hands away.

He doesn’t protest when you take the wine bottle and fill up the glasses. You turn around and hand him one, and he takes it, sips on it.

‘Don’t leave me with them for so long the next time,’ you say. ‘I had to drink beer.’

Rafe grins, because he knows how much you hate anything that isn’t high quality wine. He tucks your hair behind your ears and rests his hands on your neck, before kissing you softly on the cheek.

The knowledge that he’s being soft with you, leaving you wanting, is killing you – but it’s the rules of the game. You make him want you by flirting with everyone until he can no longer resist you, and he makes you want him by being gentle and reserved until you need more.

‘I couldn’t come earlier,’ Rafe says, his lips brushing against the skin on your cheeks. ‘It would be too suspicious.’

You take a sip of your wine, eyes still closed. ‘People are too drunk, too coked up to notice. We’re safe.’

‘Whatever you say, Y/N. It’s your rules.’

The words try to sting, but you refuse to let them to. Instead, you open your eyes and put a finger beneath Rafe’s chin, turning his head to look at you. ‘You know it’s for the best.’

‘Whatever you say,’ he repeats, and his eyes fall to your lips.

‘If you stopped dealing and using—’

Rafe takes a step back, and clenches his teeth. ‘You’d still not want to be seen with me. My reputation would uphold, remember?’

‘Rafe—’

‘It’s okay,’ he says, even though you can clearly see it isn’t. ‘I know you’re in it just for the sex. For the thrill.’

You down the last of your wine and put away the glass. You feel the alcohol taking over you, bit by bit, and Rafe is starting to look irresistible. It shouldn’t be like this, but when he looks hurt, when he shows that he cares about you, it makes you wish things were different.

‘You know that’s not true, Rafe,’ you tell him. You step closer and cup his face, forcing him to look at you. ‘It’s nice and thrilling, what we do, but that’s not all. Please tell me you know that.’

There are tears in his eyes and your heart aches. He bites his lip, looking as if he’s trying hard not to cry. ‘I wish I could be with you without hiding.’

‘Me, too.’

His hands are back on your waist and he steps closer, until your bodies are pressed against one another. Your hands wrap around his neck and you’re hugging, which is a rarity for the two of you – neither of you like to feel emotions you can’t act upon, so it’s easier to keep things just physical and pretend that’s all.

But it’s not. It hasn’t been, for a while.

‘I’m in love with you,’ you hear him say.

‘Don’t say that.’

‘Y/N—’

‘Rafe, please don’t say that.’

You try to kiss him, but he pulls back and shakes his head. You’re worried – did you fuck it up? You can’t say it back, not when it would complicate things even further, even if it’s exactly how you feel—

Rafe leans his forehead against yours. His hands are still at your waist, more chaste than they have ever been, and your hands get lost in his hair.

You can’t say it. You can’t. There’s no returning from that.

When you try to kiss him this time, it’s slow and gentle, and you realise that maybe that’s the Rafe that loves you, and not the one who’s here just because you’re hot. You’ve known him your whole life, and you know that he’d be someone you could see yourself waking every morning next to if it weren’t for his bad habits.

His hands pull you closer and you arch your back into him, and the kiss deepens, gains the intensity you’re used to from Rafe’s kisses. But this time he’s even more possessive, even more intense, even more into you than ever before, and you let him be.

Your red lipstick leaves mark all over his face and his lips leave little bruises all over your neck, shoulders, below your collarbone – his kisses worship you.

You don’t talk as his hands slide down to your thighs and pull up your dress, and he presses you against the wall. You shuffle, just a little bit, enough for him to take off your dress completely. His shirt comes off next and his bare torso is pressed against yours, and the heat drives you crazy.

He picks you up and throws you onto the bed, just the way he’s done so many times before. You would laugh if you weren’t so desperate, so wanting, and if he wasn’t the same. Instead, he climbs on top of you, but he pauses.

He looks at you, deep into your eyes, and kisses you softly. It’s more tender than you ever imagined Rafe could be capable off.

His lips travel from yours down to your neck, soft and brief.

‘I meant what I said,’ he whispers against your stomach. ‘I’m in love with you.’

Moments later, even if you wanted to say anything, all thoughts escape your mind.

Later, when you’re both undone, lying on your bed with your head against his chest and his fingers drawing circles across your back, you kiss him on the lips, softer than you ever imagined you could be capable of.

With your lips against his skin, you say, ‘I love you, too.’

There are very few things in your life that matter to you, and you decide Rafe is one of them.

#outer banks #outer banks fic #obx #obx fic #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #topper thornton #possessive rafe #jealousy kink #rafe cameron smut #my imagine #my fic #i'm super proud of this one ayy

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clubtuan · 4 years ago

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Sorry, I couldn’t get to you

Pairing: Do Kyungsoo x female reader

Genre: The chilling adventure of Sabrina!au /witch!au /ansgt a lot of it/ mention of Swing Kids/ fluff / suggestive

Prompt : « I make my own happiness, and I hope you can too » - Sabrina Morningstar

A/N: I finish CAOS and I miss Kyungsoo. And I have Roh Kisoo feelings so yeah this happened, my first scenarios with EXO. And I totally wrote this listening to ‘’Say Something’’ by A Great Big World 90% of the time.

Word count : 5k

Rain was heavily falling that night, and your familiar, a black cat sitting next to you purring. Life as 24 year old witch in Seoul, but still a single 24 year old, life wasn’t that boring it was just that people were always asking you to introduce them to your boyfriend.. Hell who needs a boyfriend when their cousin is the king of Hell, or when your family is the known as the most powerful witches in this damn country ?

The smoke of your tea was long gone as the liquid turned cold, but a burnt smell came to your nostrils .. Park Chanyeol, the king of the under and your cousin.

‘’Hello cousin.

For the love of Satan, Chanyeol!’’ He laughed and take the place right next to you, taking off his crown. ‘’Hell is hella boring without you’’ he sighed.

The only thing you wanted to answer him was how earth was also a boring playground without him, and how Junmyeon wasn’t helping cause he probably was busy running the Academy of Unseen Arts.

You sighed, humans weren’t funny, working wasn’t funny, and plus your feet hurt, from working in Minseok’s small cafe. ‘’You’re a real drama queen Y/N’’ Said Chanyeol before readjusting his black oversized opened dress shirt. ‘’Go to a club, find a cute or bad boy looking guy and have some fun’’ He said picking up his bloody crown.

You couldn’t believe it, even your cousin was asking you to get .. well for the moment a one night stand, but still asking you to find a ‘someone’ ..

‘’Uh and before I forget honey, you may be a witch but black isn’t our only option here’ He disappeared before you could kill him or throw a pillow to his face.’’ -Unbelievable, was all you said after his exit.

You scanned your shelves full of spell books, ‘dark magic : a witchy way with demons’, other books about demons and others creatures you had to deal with, a big brown book caught your eyes and you smirk taking it in your hands. ‘’Boyfriend, here we meet’’ your cat meow looking at you ‘’I know buddy, but everyone says I should have someone so ..’’

To be real witches and wizards are known to have sex demons, and huge sexual orgies from time to time .. seriously what is the problem with witches and sex ?

Oh yeah Lilith was !

You find yourself in the bathroom that night, sculpting your future boyfriend in the wax of a few red candles. abs ? Check ! Cute looking butt ? Check ! Good look ? Check. Nice ?Also check !

‘’Let the doll sit in hot water for one to two days and your lover will be yours’’ you read out of the book.

The bathtub was full and ready, and your were casting the spell asking yourself the hell you were doing.

You clearly fell asleep, waiting to your full tub to see if anything would change .. but nope nothing really changed except the size of the wax doll, which was now a lot larger and not much looking like wax. Work was starting for another few hours but someone was ringing at your door at 9am. And the same someone didn’t wait for you to entered your apartment.

‘’Y/N? We know you’re here, the cat told us.’’ Aunties !

You exited your bathroom closing your door, they didn’t need to see your future love spell laying in hot water with rose petals !

‘’Aunties hi!’’ They both looked at you as if you were insane, well you totally looked like at the moment, your oversized black shirt, and dried mascara under your eyes !

‘’What are you doing ?’’

I’m creating my own boyfriend, cause people I work with, or I’m friend with ask me about my love life 24/7 .. nah you shouldn’t say that to your aunts or else they’ll kill you ..

‘’Nothing Aunt Zee ! I just need coffee cause I .. I .. Yeah coffee !’’

Both of your aunts looked at each other, but not in the suspicious way you tried to avoid, thanks Dark Lord ! ‘’Your cousin, ..’’ Aunt H started but you clearly were not listening to them. Looking at you bathroom door asking yourself a lot of question, does he has a name or you had to give him one ?

‘’Aunties, if you create someone out of .. never mind’’ you stopped yourself, they didn’t need to suspect you and your future « man »?

And the fact you wanted them out of here .. fast ! No need for them to see a stranger getting out of one of your rooms probably naked and confused !

You were bored to wait for anything to happen, and plus you received a text.

JUNMYEON:

You small witch, don’t forget about the Coven party in 2 days.

If you’re not here, I’ll kill u under the full moon babe xox

What a best friend ! You once again totally forgot about this little Coven thing at Minseok cafe he was hosting with Baekhyun.

Witches parties were always too much, even more if Byun Baekhyun was the one throwing the said party. Going back to the 50s (like literally), ghosts ..

To be honest you wanted your Saturday night to be a rerun of « Sabrina, the teenage witch » under a plaid on your couch with pizza, beer and tteokbokki, not a extravagant party with all your Coven.

BAEKHYUNIE:

Get ready for the night of your witchy spicy life, cause your god fairy mother (me!!)

got some friend who are single & ready to mingle !

YOU:

Baek, no more weird goblin or any magical creatures !

Plus you are late I’ve a date !

His only response was a few shocked emojis, and a few seconds later another text : I’m behind your door with food !

But Baekhyun, being Baekhyun he didn’t ring the bell and come into your home with a huge goofy smile on his lips.

‘’Don’t look at me like that, I’ve got your fav’’

Why everybody was coming to visit you today ? Normally your apartment was cozy and calm .. but not today ! For Satan’s love !

Baekhyun was one of your closest friend, but also a dark fairy and Chanyeol’s right arm.

And fairies loves to party way too much, it was in their personality ! But the cutest thing was his pointy ears.

‘’ So, my lil friend got herself a date ?’’

And fairy were all about gossips! You simply smiled and nodded at your friend. No need to say too much !

‘’Sooo ..’’ You tried to start another conversation ‘’ How is hell today ?’’

He lifted one of his eyebrow ‘’ Yeol was here last night, don’t try to escape my questions woman’’

Maybe you should have stuff your mouth with rice and onions !

Your fairy friend talked and talked, asking you a few questions about your date for the party. You nodded and made a few ‘’oh!’’ ‘’mhmm’’ but must importantly you were eating and trying to avoid his questions.

Until that one moment when Baekhyun suddenly stopped talking, and was looking behind you his mouth wide open.

‘’Sorry babe, I was a bit long’’

Babe ? You turned in your sit and your eyes dropped to a towel, one of your black towel hanging low on some hips, well defined hips to say, and as your eyes were going up to see who that was, you followed a happy trail, your mouth watered at the sight, happy trail being one of your weakness in a man. After his define stomach and sun kissed glowing skin. His heart shaped lips looked so kissable and full, his dark eyes hided behind tick black frame of glasses. God he was beautiful, more than that to be honest, his voice sounded like honey to your ears, his cute hand slowly scratching the back of his head. You watched a few drop of water running on his chest.

Next you saw a lot of beauty marks on his naked skin, a galaxy of beauty marks. The man got you hypnotized with one sentence, this spell was something !

‘’Hey, you must be Baekhyun ! Y/N told me about you’’ you were drinking his every words just like Baekhyun was. ‘’I’m Do Kyungsoo’’

Dark lord even his name sounded so heavenly (damn for a dark lord follower, you think a lot about heaven right now), after his introduction he excused himself to get dress.

‘’Is this your date ?’’ Murmured Baekhyun with too much excitement ‘’Damn girl you just hit the lotto !’’

Your first few days with Kyungsoo was surprisingly good, he already known a lot about you. Because to created him you dropped some drops of blood in the potion.

You asked silly questions to Kyungsoo, just to get to know him better: ‘’Bubble tea or Iced coffee ?’’ sure he was your creation but he still has his own personality. Your afternoon been filled with laughs, his hand in your hair, under your shirt, and finally you naked on top of him. His hands on your hips left some marks just like his plump lips and teeth drew love bites on your collarbone and others behind your ear. Your long black nails left marks on his back from the pleasure .. hell this man gonna be the end of your sanity !

‘’I’m glad you bring me to life’’ his arm was wrapped around your waist, and his lips continued their way in the back on your neck. You never expect anything with this incantation, you never expect the perfect man to came to life in your bathtub but here you were laying under your sheet naked, with Kyungsoo showing his love to you. Drawing abstract shapes on your skin, following your own moles creating a galaxy with his fingers.

Your friends and family were totally shocked to see him next to you, the Saturday night at the Coven party.

Even your aunt fell under his spell, and Chanyeol almost gave him his throne. Kyungsoo always had an answer to every questions about your relationship, his hand never left your side that night, or you find his lips on your cheek every other times.

Do Kyungsoo might be the result of your spell, but you totally were under his.

Days with Kyungsoo were sweet, full of adventures and funny. Sex was insanely good, (yes might be a witch thing but thanks Lilith) the feeling of his hand tracing your body, or even his lips on your skin. Or just his eyes on you were making you feel like the most wanted woman on the earth, Kyungsoo has his ways.

His moles were your favorite thing to kiss after his pillowy lips, but the must was the little mole on his top lip. And for Kyungsoo his lips found their home right under your breast, on ink saying ‘Witch’ he always said your tattoo was full of sarcasm.

Were you suppose to fall to your own creation ?

Your cat was laying on your bed, his head in Kyungsoo’s hand as his was caressing him. You watched him laying underneath your sheet, his chest on full display as your bedding was on his hips hiding a bit of his nakedness. ‘’You know I think he quite like you’’ you said to him ‘’Yeah he is purring, and I like him too .. he is like a part of you’’

You smiled looking at them, the sun was hitting Kyungsoo’s skin in all the right place making you craving him again, on the spot. His skin against yours, his finger interlaced with yours, his low groans .. he was hotter than hell.

Your black familiar exited the room as soon as you found a place on your mattress. ‘’You look cute with my shirt on’’ his hands traveled under the cotton of the shirt, tracing the shape of your chest. He smelled so nice just like lavender and woodland (a/n: if you ever smelled ‘autumn night’ by yankee candle this is the smell I’m talking about), everything about him was comforting, cozy and making you feel somehow safe. His lips right underneath your left ear, his right hand playing with the side of your black laced panty.

He was addicting just like a drug, now he was in your life you couldn’t imagine not having him anymore. Kyungsoo became a part of you, like a missing piece of puzzle and thanks to magic you finally completed the puzzle.

The way he made you feel was crazy, almost too crazy to be real. His breath hitting your neck made you moan even more than his hands running your body, and his length hitting every spots.

Days were brighter than before, spring was almost there cherry blossom were about to bloom, just like you now. And the night getting warmer but for once your bed felt empty and kind of cold without the raven haired boy sleeping next to you.

‘’Y/N ! ARE YOU ISANE ????’’

You woke up to Chanyeol screaming and tearing off his black hair. ‘’Yeol it’s 3 am, the fuck you want now ?’’ You asked, ready to kill him.

‘’Do Kyungsoo ? Huh ?? More like Roh Kisoo ! I can’t believe you invoke a freaking ghost to pretend to be your fucking fuck buddy’’

What ? A ghost ? Fuck buddy ? You were lost, totally lost and you cousin still panicked in front of your bed. ‘’ A ghost, what ? Who’s a ghost ?’’ He sighed loudly. ‘’Cousin, the aunties will legit kill you’’

Your only question was ‘who the fuck is Roh Kisoo ?’ He sighed once again before showing a beige folder (there’s folder in hell ? Anyway that is not the question)

‘’Cousin, he is dead, Do Kyungsoo isn’t real his name was Roh Kisoo, North Korean soldier. He used to tap dance, he was killed because he was about to kill an American soldier on stage’’

You couldn’t believe what Chanyeol was telling you .. you did not invoke a dead soldier, you created him out of wax. ‘’Chanyeol .. I created him. I do not fuck with dead’’

He stopped all his talking to look at you, dead in the eyes (no joke here). Your knees were against your chest as you sit on your mattress, ‘’He lied to me’’ you said softly. Your eyes filled with tears, you couldn’t believe you fell in love with your creation but he seemed so human, probably too human you were now thinking .. cause he been alive once.

Chanyeol wrapped his arms around you, even the king of hell could not bear to see his cousin and best friend crying. ‘’Love, do-does his heart beat ?’’ You looked up at him not really understanding why would it change if his heart was beating or not ? ‘’ If his heart beat, it means two things .. one he has feeling for you and second h-he .. he would become human, 100% human once again and believe his past life is just a dream .. Well his memories of the war and all being a dream’’

‘’And y/n..’’ He started again ‘’ you were in his past life .. his lover actually even if he never confessed or anything to you he loved you as Roh Kisoo .. that’s why he came to you as you created him’’

He put his hands on your eyes, and suddenly flashes of images, of him with shaved hair, kaki clothes, tap dancing, working on things, him stealing a kiss, stealing one of your kiss I the board of daylight, your death with two others persons you didn’t know and finally his own death.

The perk of being the king of hell was having ‘infos’ about people’s previous lives, and Chanyeol was shoving you Kyungsoo past life.

After your cousin exit, you didn’t sleep that night. You felt so small at the time watching the night lights by your window, thinking about everything that happened for the last two months of your life.. getting him, feeling happy and in love (a thing you never felt or lived before), how were you supposed to say all these things to Kyungsoo ?

Were you supposed to giving him up ? Send him back (yeah but were ?) ? Make him human ?

That morning Junmyeon made fun of you ‘looking like a panda’.

‘’ Y/N ?’’ He been calling your name for the last five minutes but your mind was anywhere but in Minseok’s cafe, jumping from memories to memories you created for the last 2 months.

The light was hitting your living room, a cup of coffee in your hand as you sit on your couch right next to Kyungsoo who was reading one your book. At the time everything felt right, as you were looking at him forgetting your cup in your hands, trying to find a single thing on him that was wrong .. but nothing was wrong.

‘’You know, I’ll not disappear love’’ you chuckled at his words, fearing that yes someday he’ll be gone.

His hand find it place on your knee, and his lips on your temple was comforting you and made you blush as a teenager.

At the time everything was simpler, you needed help .. but from who ?

You couldn’t bear to see Kyungsoo, not knowing how you’ll react in front of him, what to tell him, would you kiss him ? Let him make love to you ? Slap him ? Fall apart ? Break his heart ? (you didn’t know if his heart was beating .. if he was human or just the memory of his past life in wax)

YOU:

We need to talk aunties.

You were adult and you needed to face your mistakes, and you were finally doing it. The drive to your aunt’s was the longest it ever was and you felt heavy.

You spent a long time sitting in your car before entering the house, feeling a lot of shame, heartbroken, facing your mistake was harder than expected.

The second you saw your aunts you couldn’t keep your feelings together and start crying.

‘’ Chanyeol told us Y/N and even if your aunt wanted to scold you .. it’s not right to do now’’ started one of your aunt.

Aunt Zee was smoking but not saying anything, you knew she was disappointed. You felt totally out of place if you teleport yourself in a volcano you would to it right away.

‘’ I suppose Chanyeol explain you, the two options you have ?’’ Was Aunt Zee first worlds, you nodded.

‘’ If his heart beat or not, I could send him back or I can make him human.. ’’ your were stop by Aunt H ‘’ If you make him human, you know he’ll not remember you and what you both lived’’

Hearing that broke your heart even more, he couldn’t forget you if wasn’t right.

‘’ But he will kind of stay connected to you, as he has a part of you being your magic. So he is and will be a wizard.’’ Said your second aunt.

All you needed was time, a thing you didn’t have. One last time with him before choosing send him back or making him human and forget everything about you.

‘’But most important if his heart is beating, your trace will forever haunt him. Without him know why and who you are, love’’ said Aunt H, caressing your arm as comfort.

‘’ I can’t kill him’’

Yours aunties listened to you, telling them why and how to ‘created’ him, how happy he was making you, how human he seemed and now you knew why .. you told them everything, even wishing you had a last night with him.

Aunt Zee granted your wish, but tomorrow morning you had to say goodbye to love.

You never expected finding him dressed in his favorite black jumper and his ripped bleu jeans cooking in your kitchen with a glass full of white wine waiting for you next to his.

Your eyes filled with tears when his scent hit you, your head on his chest. ‘’ Let’s stay like this for a moment, please’’ you didn’t want him to see you like that.

The smile dancing on his lips broke you inside one more time, he looked so innocent in front of you, not knowing, almost like a child.

‘’You know babe, tonight there’s a shower of shooting stars let’s watch it’’ Yixing told him, even if he never met the Chinese wizard in real like they met on FaceTime, your friend was crazy when Baekhyun, once mentioned you had someone.

You simply nodded, even of shooting stars couldn’t help you this time.

The time moved so fast as if it was teasing you, your eyes never left Kyungsoo, too afraid to forgot him or to miss a beauty mark or the way his eyes were when he was smiling, looking at you.

Looking at him was the hardest thing you had ever done that night, you were giving up on him and you couldn’t say anything.

The view from the balcony of your appartement was incredible but the only thing you watched was him not the stars traveling the dark sky.

Even the moon seems ridiculous next to him, his glasses sat on his nose and his hair was a bit longer, his fringe hitting the frame of the glasses softly.

He turned his head to look at you, his hand caressed your cheek and his lips collided on yours, his kiss was full of passion, slow. Time stopped when his lips met yours, and you felt his heart pounded underneath your hand.

His heart was beating ..

‘’ .. I love you’’ His eyes were still closed and his lips still so closed to yours, and his thumb caressing your face.

Once again his lips crashed on yours, more intense this time. Yours hands holding the material of his jumper. ‘’Don’t ever forget about me’’ you whisper. His fingers slipped under the coton of your shirt, he pulled you even closer to him, as if no one else in the world existed. ‘’Never’’ you knew his answer was a lie but you needed it.

The time actually stopped at that moment the last time he made love to you, the stars and clouds were not moving and no sounds were heard, a spell to stop time was dangerous and only a powerful witch could to do but at the time it was your last priority.

It was the softest Kyungsoo ever showed you the way he loved you, he was taking his time with you that night as if he knew it was surely the last time. Looking at you his eyes were full of stars and his hands felt like velvet on your skin.

That night you refused to fall asleep, your head stayed on his chest listening to his heartbeat, his words playing over and over in your head, the way he confessed on that night was the hardest to accepted to you.

CHANYEOL:

I’m sorry cousin,

I tried to give a little bit more with him.

He make you happy I know.

You left your bed after reading the text to finally cried yourself to sleep in your bathroom, your hand on your mouth trying to muffled the sound.

The floor was freezing when you woke up, everything felt freezing in your house, in your body. Once you remembered, tears were running your cheeks and this time you didn’t shut yourself and screamed in agony.

He was gone.

He was gone and you were alone.

The first week was the hardest, you didn’t left your room and the last piece of him that was the shirt you wore that night.

The tissue did not smelled like him anymore.

Every day, every hour you were waiting for him to open your door arms full of bags from the grocery store ready to cook you something.

Chanyeol, yours aunts, Yixing, everyone tried to contact you, but you never answered them.

Every night Chanyeol wait for you to sleep and came, he was feeling guilty and you were his best friend. Every night he did the same, he tucked you and stroked your hair. Hoping one day you would be able to find peace with yourself, but that wasn’t the only thing on his plan !

You sat at your kitchen bar, you computer in front of you but all you did was staring at your window, your chin resting in your left hand.

You didn’t even watch Chanyeol sitting right in front of you searching something in one of his books. ‘’Cousin, aren’t you suppose to do mails stuff ?’’

‘’Chanyeol, aren’t you suppose to do king of hell stuffs?’’ Your sarcasm did in fact burn like hell !

‘’You know I became the king of underworld, so you selfishly could stay on earth and do selfish human things as the bratty witch you are’’

Why was Chanyeol even here at this point ? He wasn’t wrong, to be honest. All you did for the last few days was crying, sleeping, and being a brat to everyone who tried to help you what so ever.

‘’Cousin, life have so much to offer’’

‘’Fake, life sucks and I feel so done with it’’ He sighed loudly, feeling done with you.

Ignoring yours friends, cousin, aunts was purely selfish and you knew it but at this point you clearly didn’t give a damn .. but at the same time it was your fault and only your fault, if you didn’t use this spell, just to shut people and their needs to talk about your life.

It’s been 3 weeks, the first been the miserable one, the two second mark the start of the ‘new you’.

You were purely self-destructive at this point, losing Kyungsoo hurt you but what you did to yourself was worst. Invoking sex demons, trying spell to not feel anything, everything was good to ‘make you forget’.

‘’You know Sehun, fuck Satan and all that witchy shit’’

You were clearly drunk, and Sehun knew he shouldn’t give you anymore drinks but his pub had the best reputation with the witch population of Seoul, you lost the count of drinks you already drank.

‘’ You probably should go at home and sleep Y/N, I dont need the king of Hell to come and kill me’’

‘’Chanyeol ? He can kiss my ass ! Y’all can kiss my ass’’ your drunk behavior wasn’t a pretty sight.

After that Sehun didn’t understand a word you said, you were half crying, half mumbling. Poor bartender did not has the choice but to call Chanyeol to have an explanation and to get you back at your apartment.

‘’ Y/N you can’t live your life off ‘not feeling anything’ spells’’

Cold water woke you up, you stood in you shower fully clothed and your cousin holding the shower head.

‘’Why the hell are you doin’ that ?’’

‘’You asshole, needed a wake up call’’

Chanyeol was tired of seeing you being a danger to yourself, and decided enough was enough.

The heavy weight on your shoulders dropped suddenly and you body followed dropping in your cousin’s arms. ‘’ I just miss him so much Yeol’’

He watched tears rolling on your cheeks, not saying anything but his hand caressing your back.

Even if lives are connected Chanyeol couldn’t guarantee Kyungsoo’s comeback, your two souls might be connected since the beginning but the way they forced Kyungsoo into his human form couldn’t guarantee anything about their futur or life together. But he couldn’t tell you all that, like he couldn’t say he was following the man everyday.

And that you left your mark on him, he was now a wizard.

‘’ I’m here Y/N you can sleep’’

He laid you down on your bed, caressing your hair and projecting dreams in your head to give you a break, Chanyeol was the king of Hell, but he was hurt seeing his best friend and cousin living like that, he was ready to fight anyone so you could be happy again and to see you eyes full of stars just like when you were looking at Kyungsoo.

Chanyeol always knew that Kyungsoo’s heart was beating he felt it the first time he met him. And right after that he started his search about the man.

After that night you practically lived in the academy, teaching younger witches just like your aunts wanted. Reading books to perfect your magic. ‘’You know since you came to the academy everything seems simpler’’ Said your colleague Jongdae ‘’ Kids seems to like having one of the most powerful witch of the century teaching them stuffs’’ You nodded.

‘’Sorry Jongdae but I’m taking my cousin out for lunch’’

Chanyeol took you to Chinatown, celebrating one of his friend opening his own restaurant .. who were you to say no to free food ?

Lunch was nice, a private room for the two of you and all the best food on the menu. ‘’So the academy ?’’

‘’It’s good, kids are funny .. Yeol did you .. like killed someone for this guy ?’’

He laughed a bit too much ‘’ Not, it’s a guy a met not long ago and we became friends .. he is like us ‘magic’ he’ll come to see us’’

You nodded, finishing you plate and drinking a bit of the Chinese whisky that was left in your cup.

Chanyeol left you to go the to toilet, what type of cousin is he ? He need to go to the toilet when his friend was supposed to met the two of you ? Asshole !

The door opened and your phone vibrated at the same time a text from you cousin, why was he sending you a text when coming back in the private room ?

CHANYEOL:

I find him for you ..

Who did he find for you ?

‘’Chanyeol ?’’ You knew the voice, you once again felt the time stop when you turned around finding .. Do Kyungsoo in a chef attire.

Do Kyungsoo was the friend of Chanyeol, the one he wanted you to meet ..

‘’You are ?’’ Right he forgot about you. ‘’Oh yeah you’re Y/N .. Chanyeol told me a lot about you and you’re like the most powerful in our coven’’

A single tear rolled onto your cheek, you find him .. he was in front of you.

You finally find him, thanks to Chanyeol.

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makeste · 4 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 278: MOMO IN CHARGE

Previously on BnHA: Deku and Kacchan were all “SIR, THAT’S OUR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT SENSEI” and got really ferocious and made a very passionate attempt to blow Tomura up and it was great. It basically did nothing, but it was still great. AFO was all “COME HERE LIL BRO”, and Tomura was all “silly Sensei, you can’t just take over my mind and body just like that”, and he was very confident of this despite there really being no evidence to back it up, but okay! Gran was all “time to make the fandom mad at me” and grabbed Tomura by the collar and yelled at him about Nana a bit, and then Bakugou and Endeavor made an even MORE passionate attempt to blow up Tomura, which may or may not have done some actual damage. The chapter ended with Gigantomachia battling Mt. Lady, just kinda out of the blue, which is FINE, but she had better be all right, though!

Today on BnHA: Everyone is all “WAUGHH IT’S GIGANTOMACHIA” and running around freaking out about it. The U.A. alums all kick some ass, and pretty much everyone else not from U.A. does jack fucking shit. Mt. Lady, who I plan on naming all of my future children after, does her best to stop Machia but he keeps flinging her aside. Kamui Woods is all “here I come with Midnight to put Gigantomachia to sleep!” and is PROMPTLY FUCKING MURDERED!? by Dabi because he’s a flammable tree man, and so Midnight falls all the way to the ground and is badly injured. So then she’s all “well I better call the most competent person I can think of to fix this mess” and dials up YAOYOROZU FUCKING MOMO, who proceeds to take charge LIKE THE BOSS SHE IS, and mobilizes the rest of the kids. And honestly I have more faith in them than in any of the adults at this point, so yeah, you know what? Let’s do this.

so I am possibly a bit spoiled on this chapter because I did a “top five predictions” post earlier this week, and someone replied to that yesterday on Thursday saying that they were mostly correct. I don’t know exactly how close to the mark I was though, and in any case most of the predictions were just “so-and-so shows up, probably”, so it’s not too bad. we’ll see how it goes!

OH THANK GOD MY BABIES ARE SAFE

I mean, CLEARLY they’re all about to be in horrible danger, seeing as Jirou is about to inform them of the whole “THE BIG GUY EVERYONE WAS AFRAID ABOUT WAKING UP WOKE UP” thing, but in the meantime at least Kami and Toadette and Honenuki made it back to the group safely

also Kaminari’s use of “Jirou-Jack” here is fucking inspired and I want him to teach a class on nicknames. isn’t he the one who coined “Yaomomo” as well? this boy has a gift and it needs to be appreciated

so Jirou is all “SOMETHING REALLY BIG IS COMING”, and actually she says “INSANELY HUGE”, which if anything is still an understatement, hard as it is to believe

WOW

“A BAD GUY IS HEADING THIS WAY?? SOUNDS LIKE IT’S TIME TO ABANDON THE CHILDREN IN THE WOODS” kjlfakh okay you know what?? fine!! you weren’t even going to do anything anyway so let’s not pretend!!

holy shit it’s like Mt. Lady isn’t even there

look at those speed lines!! goddamn. I just felt this huge rush of empathy for Mt. Lady though. like can you imagine growing up with this super-destructive quirk, and managing to become a hero with it against all odds, and having to put up with the manga making fun of you all the time just because sometimes you have a tendency to DESTROY A LOT OF STUFF, but it’s not like you can help it!! but the upside has always been that when your quirk is on, you are fucking UNSTOPPABLE though. so even though it’s been a hell of a rough ride for you, it’s worth it because you’re a complete badass and the number of people who can beat you out in terms of sheer physical strength is probably in the single digits. and you’re working really hard too, and lately you’ve been moving up through the ranks and actually becoming a damn fine hero if I do say so myself (and I do), and it’s like, about time though?? like finally, finally it is all starting to come together for you. and then this snarling trashrock person suddenly comes stampeding along and you put your all into trying to stop him, and it doesn’t even do a damn thing. like, holy shit. that’s just not fucking fair and YOU DESERVE BETTER, MT. LADY

anyway so she’s still hanging in there for now though so let’s check in with our villain squad riding on his back

lmaooo they’re all “I don’t even understand what is going on here”

YOU GUYS, THIS IMPLIES THAT THEY WERE ALL PLUCKED OFF THE GROUND BY THE SCRUFFS OF THEIR NECKS AND THEY HAD ABSOLUTELY NO SAY IN THE MATTER OMG. like I’m picturing Spinner being held by his cape pinched in between Machia’s thumb and forefinger, and awkwardly trying to lecture him like a mom with his hands on his hips all, “BAD GIGANTOMACHIA! NO! NOOOUAGH -- !” and cutting off with a yelp as he’s dropped onto his back

and I am glad they got Toga some clothes! I like to think Gigantomachia grabbed those for her as well. so thoughtful

wow Skeptic actually wants to go back to Re-Destro??

color me legit impressed. I underestimated your loyalty my dude. and let me also just take this moment to extend my gratitude toward Horikoshi for leaving the rest of the MLA out of it because good fucking riddance to them, goodbye forever hopefully!!

I guess they’ll be needing Skeptic’s quirk down the line for some reason? maybe he is meant to be like a new, less out-of-control Twice. smdh y’all out here trying to replace your dead buddy like a pet goldfish

who is this “they” Dabi is referring to

do you mean the heroes? lol yeah I guess they’re pretty distracted by the literal fucking kaijuu you’re currently piggybacking on

SIGH

“the Jakku team must’ve made a mistake” BOY, I’LL SAY. you know what, don’t even talk to me about that yet. it’s still too fresh. suffice it to say that your suspicions are correct and things in Jakku are not very daijobu right about now

anyway here’s a closeup of this bubble person just cuz

they are everything and I want them to be my friend. also there’s a squid person a few paces behind them who can probably do anything a squid can do. or they might actually be a shark person, actually. I don’t know. either way I love them

GETEN PLEASE GO AWAY

WE ARE PHASING OUT THE MLA!! MOVING FORWARD IT’S ORIGINAL LOV ONLY!! I’M SORRY BUT YOU DIDN’T MAKE THE CUT. we already have an ice character so shoo

OH DAMN MY MAN CEMENTOSS HAS HAD ENOUGH OF HIS NONSENSE TOO AHHHH YESS

1) hey so Cementoss is legit terrifying who’d’ve thought

and 2), did Cementoss always have a mouthful of gigantic perfect teeth each the size of a slice of bread, or is this just something I’m only noticing now because I’m behind the curve. either way, let me just say sincerely, DKJDLKFJLSKJG

RE-DESTRO YOU GO AWAY TOO!!

@waywardfacegarden you asked the other day which are the characters I actually dislike, and this is one of them lol. he’s just a big ol’ prick, and on top of that has the audacity to not even be interesting in any way so as to balance it out. anyway so apologies to any Re-Destro stans out there but I basically spend every panel he’s in hoping that someone will punch him in the face hard enough to finally make him shut up

anyway so my man Edgeshot is here though, finally!! but of all the people for him to fight! this is a real predicament for me. the most soothing character in the series contrasted with the character who grates my nerves the most. Edgeshot’s sexy ASMR voice is gonna be drowned out by all of RD’s punching and self-important ranting in the anime and I’m lowkey devastated but I’m gonna pull myself together and read on

SPEAKING OF SELF-IMPORTANT RANTING

Edge, if you can liberate us from having to put up with his insufferable ass once and for all I will be so grateful to you. can you do this. please. for me

and it looks like some other boring MLA villains are following along behind Machia so I’m gonna need someone to kick their asses as well. please

-- YESSSSSS

okay so now I see what that comment on my prediction post was referring to lol. I did indeed have my fingers crossed that these two would show up again, and sure enough! THE GANG’S ALL HERE YAY

and Mt. Lady is being sumoed aside!

anyone want tonight’s lotto numbers. during this brief fleeting moment of having my predictions be actually credible, I would just like to say that Hagakure is the U.A. traitor. thank you and goodnight

OH NO KAMUI IS WORRIED

HE LOOKS SO PANICKED?? OUT OF THE BLUE I SHIP IT SO MUCH?? I keep forgetting they’re on the same team and stuff and wow, I need to calm down

LOL MIDNIGHT IS ALL “NO TIME FOR SHIPS!!”

I wonder if her quirk will actually be enough to take him down? this is something I’ve been itching to see for a long time, actually. just how powerful is she? we know her quirk is more effective on males than females, but is anyone actually capable of resisting it? imagine if she really did just knock Gigantomachia out after all of this buildup. that would be some god-tier shit omg, DO IT

(ETA: I am just going to assume that since Horikoshi had to go to elaborate lengths to take her out of the fight, this means that her quirk really was capable of knocking them all out. another tragic case of Too Badass For The Plot. y’all better respect Midnight.)

YESSSSSSSS

is she stripping. you know what -- don’t think about it. I won’t let you ruin this for me Horikoshi. Midnight’s gonna be a badass because the ladies are fucking ruling this arc and that’s all there is to it

NOOOOOO

DABI GET BACK HERE I JUST WANT TO TALK!!

oh thank god, she’s all right. BUT KAMUI ISN’T THOUGH DLKJSFLKSJDG??!

did Kamui Woods just... die

(ETA: okay but for real, is there an actual curse in effect on the Billboard Top Ten right now, though?? did one of them accidentally disturb the tomb of some ancient king??)

...

( ･ั﹏･ั)

oH MY GOD!?!

NOOOOOOO WHY ARE YOU SO QUICK TO SLEEP ON MAJESTIC, LET’S SEE IF THEY CAN DO IT!! GIVE US MAJESTIC GOD DAMMIT

(ETA: Horikoshi is seriously just yanking our chain at this point. when Majestic finally does show up, he or she better have the coolest fucking quirk of all time, that’s all I’m saying.)

okay how badly injured is Midnight here, though?? she just fell all that way?? DO I NEED TO BE REALLY MAD. I CAN WORK MY WAY UP TO IT PRETTY QUICKLY, JUST SAY THE WORD. I’M ALREADY HALFWAY THERE HONESTLY. WHERE’S KAMUI WOODS

!!!!!!!!!!!

AND JUST LIKE THAT MY ANGER EVAPORATES INTO THE NIGHT, YESSSSSSSSS!! MOMOOOOO

holy shit. “a quirk that can stop that thing,” she says. and goes and calls YAOYOROZU FUCKING MOMO y’all I am barely holding myself back from SCREAMING right now I...

you guys

you guys. if Midnight and Yaomomo team up to take down Gigantofuckingmachia using some sort of MOMO MADE A MACHINE TO SPREAD MIDNIGHT’S QUIRK strategy, or whatnot?? I will fucking die on the spot. you can end the manga right there. Kacchan you can keep your quirk I don’t even care

“IT MIGHT BE AGAINST THE LAW” lmaooooo insert John Mulaney “WE’RE WELL PAST THAT” gif here. holy shit. listen, that is fine. if anything it’s even better

WHAT THE FUCK

DO I NEED TO START GETTING REALLY MAD AGAIN!?!?! FUCKING WHIPLASH, IS WHAT THIS IS, BUT YOU JUST TELL ME WHAT SORT OF OVER-THE-TOP REACTION IS NEEDED HERE AND I’LL GO FOR IT

(((( ;°Д°))))

[GRABS HORIKOSHI BY THE COLLAR] listen, you. if you only just now, for the first time ever, gave us a lady hero actually mentoring another lady hero, which we have somehow NEVER HAD BEFORE in almost three hundred chapters, only for you to then KILL OFF THE MENTOR IN THE MIDDLE OF HER GODDAMN SPEECH TO THE MENTOREE, I will... there’s... I’ll... okay, listen. DON’T. THERE WILL BE A RECKONING. CAPSLOCK SUCH AS THIS WORLD HAS NEVER WITNESSED!!

ヽ(#ﾟДﾟ)ﾉ┌┛

I DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW TO REACT TO ANYTHING IN THIS CHAPTER AND I’M LOSING MY MIND OVER IT

so the other kids are all “what the fuck” and “so Momo’s in charge??” which, YES!!! IT’S THE ONE GOOD PART ABOUT ALL THIS SO DON’T YOU DARE QUESTION IT

MOMO NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO BE CRIPPLED BY YOUR ANXIETY, YOU CAN DO THIS GIRL I BELIEVE IN YOU

hell, it’s not even just an “I believe in you” thing, because it’s not just belief, it’s fact. you motherfucking can do this, you are the most capable and brilliant student in 1-A, you just gotta have faith and let yourself shine!!

so now there are some more panels of Machia running and the villains and heroes fighting, blah blah blah. and Momo screwing up her face as she makes her decision...

YESSSSSSSSS

my baby girl is all grown up and TAKING THESE MOTHERFUCKIN REINS and MOMO I WILL LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU JUST SAY THE WORD!!

lol she’s all “Jirou use your ears and scientifically calculate how long it’ll take him to get here”, and Jirou is all “I can literally fucking see him, he’s gonna be on top of us in like two seconds” WELL OKAY THEN

thank god there are no adult pros left to fuck this up. is that weird that this is a real and honest and completely sincere thought that just ran through my head? like, at this point if any of the adults were around I’d just be afraid of them dying honestly. but with the kids I actually feel real hope that they’re somehow gonna do this. of course it helps that unlike the adults they’re pretty safe from being killed off

also! way to represent the entirety of class 1-B there Honenuki lulz. sorry, The Rest of Class 1-B

OH MY GOD

MT. LADY I WILL LAY DOWN MY LIFE FOR YOU AS WELL!! YOU HAVE MY LOVE AND FEALTY!!

I’M STANNING HER SO HARD I’M GONNA EXPLODE SOMEBODY HELP!?!

JIROU SAYS THAT MACHIA HAS SLOWED DOWN!! YOU GUYS I’M ABOUT TO GET “MT. LADY FOR PRESIDENT” TATTOOED ACROSS MY FOREHEAD

lmao at Shouji using his power of “putting some extra eyeballs on my arms” to inform everyone that Gigantomachia is Right Over There and Very Big

good job Shouji

oh my glob I have so much love for Momo right now that it can’t even fucking be contained. brb wildly flailing my hands around a little to try and release some of this excess excitement

maybe Momo can be president instead and Mt. Lady can be the vice president

NO THE CHAPTER IS ENDING I’M NOT READY

AND JUMP IS ON BREAK AGAIN NEXT WEEK TOO, FML!!

okay!!

Kaminari is so fucking brave right now I just want to crush him in a hug?! we know he’s still scared!! look at his eyes!! and he was freaking the hell out earlier too, and now the situation is much worse! but he doesn’t give a fuck because his friends need him! he is ready to be a hero, my little baby boy is all grown up and I’m so proud??

Mineta’s face in the bottom right corner is everything. I know, I know, boooo Mineta, but that’s still the best face anyone has made in the entirety of this manga

Tetsutetsu’s out here all “I humbly request to also represent class 1-B” and Momo is all “okay fine I guess we can have two of you guys”

can we all just stop for a moment to appreciate how KamiJirouMomo is alive and well. like, we had interactions between all three of them in this chapter, in all possible permutations? do you know how happy this makes me?? I am vibrating with joy??!

I really can’t stress this enough -- I have no clue at all what these little soda can things are (anesthetic, I guess??? you know, like how you sometimes buy cans of anesthetic at the supermarket?? what do you mean you don’t do that??), or what they’re gonna do with them. I have like negative clues. but DAMNED IF I GIVE ONE SINGLE FUCK. the next chapter can be them all fucking hurling them at his face for all I care. THE DETAILS OF HOW SHE KICKS HIS ASS DO NOT MATTER!! GOOD MORNING TO YAOMOMO AND YAOMOMO ONLY!! MY MOMO ACADEMIA

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crash-cinematic-universe · 4 years ago

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a sickly satisfaction (ch.1)

pairing: jason dean/reader

summary: high school sucks. jason dean makes it a little better.

warnings: uuhhhh murder, language, suicide discussion

notes: i have every chapter of this written out already, so every wednesday I’ll release a new one <3 in total the story is 7,800 words! but there are some parts that are kind of short, forgive me for those.

Eyes down. Walk fast. Stay out of their way. Three simple steps to get through the day. They had an iron grip on the school, their perfectly manicured nails digging into the oily skin of the entire student body. High School was a bloody battlefield in the war that is life. However, the epitome of cruelty, the ultimate teenage angst inducing, self-esteem crushing, happiness shattering war machine came in the form of three girls and their weak-willed sidekick. That’s right; my biggest threat in high school is Heather Chandler, Heather McNamara, Heather Duke, and Veronica Sawyer. Veronica at least has some semblance of regret and empathy-- she’s just doing what she needs to survive. Unfortunately, that means the rest of us have to struggle to keep our heads above water.

Thankfully, I have a sanctuary. A refrigerator heaven filled with endless isles of roadtrip snacks and hangover remedies. Of course, this junk food Garden of Eden also happens to contain my best friend, Tommy Geller. Tommy is 18, emo, and gay, so naturally we got along pretty well. He sits behind the register and lets me hang around until closing. It’s actually pretty nice-- sometimes he lets me do busywork around the store. Sure, it’s sort of pathetic that Snappy Snack Shack is my main source of serotonin, but you know what? There are worse places to be.

“Pop open a bottle of champagne, Tommy, because today is a special day!” I cry, pushing open the small class doors. To my delight, the store is empty. There are no irritating customers there to make me keep my voice down.

“Oh? And why is that?” Tommy inquires, his jet black hair falling in front of his eyes. He’s tired-- and bored-- and I’m the perfect remedy for that.

“Today marks exactly six months since I first stepped foot in this town,” I grin. Tommy’s eyebrows perk up.

“Really? Congrats, kid,” He’s humoring me a bit, but there is a genuine reaction beneath his sarcastic remarks.

“Thanks, Tommy. Y’know, that’s twice as long as my time in New Jersey and three times as long as my run in Nebraska. I have a feeling dear old aunt Maria might actually stay here for good,” I hop over the counter before grabbing a can of Coke out of the fridge. I prop me feet up on the counter, but Tommy knocks them down.

“You know the rules, kid, no stompy boots on the counter.” I roll my eyes. He wipes off the place where my shoes were before organizing the lotto tickets. “Anything interesting happen at school today?”

“Eh, same old same old. The Heathers were bitches, Veronica was desperately trying to keep up, and I got tripped in the hallway,” Tommy frowns.

“God, those girls really need to get humbled,” He spits.

“You don’t need to tell me. They constantly act so… self-superior, as if their power doesn’t depend solely on whether or not everyone else hates themselves to believe they’re inferior to three teenage girls who are the definition of ‘peaked in high school’,” I squeeze the soda can in my hand, the metal crunching under the pressure. “They need to be more than humbled. The Heathers deserve to be dealt as much pain as they served,”

“Watch it, kid, you’re sounding a bit homicidal,” Tommy jokes. If only he knew.

“It wouldn’t matter anyway. I don’t think they can die-- they’re like a Hydra. If you kill one of the Heathers, three more will grow in her place,” I sigh. Tommy looks concerned.

“Y/n, you don’t actually want to kill them, right?” I hesitate. The silence makes Tommy worry.

“I wouldn’t exactly lose sleep if one of them did die,” I reply nonchalantly. “It would be like a public service. Similar to killing the black mold that grows in the girl’s showers,” Tommy looks at me for a second, his expression unreadable, before turning back to his counter.

“That’s morbid,” he says. “You know that? You sound like a killer in the making.”

“Sometimes bad people deserve bad things.”

“You’re absolutely not helping your case,” Tommy laughs. I can feel someone watching me. It’s an odd feeling, but I brush it off.

“New topic?” I ask. Tommy nods.

A mischievous grin grows on his face. “You got a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Partner? All of the above?” he asks hopefully.

“No, Tommy, and don’t get your hopes up,” I chuckle, before standing up and admiring the neon sign outside.

“Oh come on, there has to be someone. You can’t possibly go to that hellhole every day and not see at least one hot person!” Tommy groans.

“Everyone at Westerburg is either evil or boring. No one interests me and I’m not interesting to anyone. Plus, my attention is mainly focused on getting through the day in one piece, not getting laid.” I neglect to mention the stranger I saw in the Cafe yesterday. He was pretty hot, and didn’t seem to be a douchebag-- in fact, he shot two of the douchiest douchebags with blank bullets. A real rarity at Westerburg.

“God, you need to get out more. I see some pretty people pass through here occasionally, I’m going to start pawning you off,” he jokes.

“Oh, god, no,” I joined in on his laughter.

“Yup, I’m going to give every hot person your photo and your address until you finally score yourself some arm candy,” Tommy can barely form sentences through his laughter.

“I’m gonna to get murdered if you do that, Tom,” I giggle.

“ And that would be damn shame,” A voice calls from across the counter. I look up to see the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my entire life. It’s the same guy from the Cafe-- although in the bright convenience store lighting he looks more like a ghost than a man. His jawline looked sharp enough to slice me in half, his cheekbones high and defined. His hair was gorgeous and his teeth were really, really nice.

“Uh, yeah, that would totally s-suck,” I choked. Tommy shot me the most horrified look I’ve ever seen. “I’ve, uh, seen you around. That stunt you pulled in the Cafe was wicked, man, seriously.”

“Hey, it was a public service,” He smirked. Tommy gave me a ‘holy-shit-I’ll-leave-you-two-alone’ look before disappearing in the isles across the room. I could see him peeking through the cereal boxes. “I’m Jason Dean, but most people call me JD.” He offers his hand for me to shake.

“Y/n, Y/n Ln,” I grip his hand firmly and try not to have a breakdown over the contact. “Y’know, there are much less extreme ways to get people to fuck off than, well, shooting them.”

“The extreme always seems to make an impression, though, doesn’t it?” His voice was a little bit lower and he leaned in a little bit closer. Tommy was freaking out across the aisle, his eyes wide as his hand raked through his greasy hair.

“That it does,” I grin. “There are quite a few people in that school that deserve certain... extremities,”

“I think you’re right,” Jason smirked once again. I kept my composure as best I could. “Speaking of extremities, I saw you and Kurt in the hallway last week,” My face is lit ablaze as I recall the incident. Kurt had been continuously pestering me the entire day, and eventually I reached my limit.

“I guess they aren’t joking when they say the chin is the knockout button,” Jason seems impressed, although I can’t really tell because looking him in the eyes seems like a death sentence. “Landed me three days detention, though. That sucked. Although I guess it can’t compare to whatever they’re dealing you,” At this point, one of the regulars began approaching the front doors. Tommy sprinted out before they got in, seemingly explaining that my entire love life depends on whether or not I can play it cool.

“Eh, what can I say. I sort of dug myself a grave there,” I spoke without thinking.

“The only graves that should’ve been dug are Kurt and Ram’s. My one critique? Use real bullets next time,” I froze. Why the fuck would I say that? I mean, I’m not wrong but I doubt JD would stick around after--

“I like the way you think,” JD laughs, his ears tinted pink. Jason looks at me, and for a moment, I look right back. There’s something behind his eyes, something festering and enticing. I wonder if my eyes communicate anything. “I’ll see you around, Y/n L/n,”

“And I’ll see you, Jason Dean,” With that he winked at me, spun on his heel, and walked out the front door. Tommy practically sprinted across the room as I released every muscle I’d been tensing. I slowly melted onto the floor. Laying on the tile with my eyes trained on the bright lights overhead.

“Oh my god,” Tommy breathed. “Oh my fucking god that was-- oh my god.”

“I know,”

“Did you see him? He’s like a greek god,”

“I know,”

“And he was totally into you, like, totally,”

“I should’ve given him my address. I wouldn’t mind getting murdered by him.” I say breathlessly. Tommy sits on the counter and looks down at me.

“I think I need to teach you how to talk to boys,” Tommy sighs, shock still lingering on his face.

“Pssh, I can talk to boys just fine,” I retort.

“You almost collapsed when you saw him,” he says flatly.

“That was--”

“I thought you were going to pass out when he told you his name,”

“But I--”

“I genuinely believed you were going to vomit when he shook your hand,”

“Alright! I give! I can’t talk to boys! You caught me! Lock me up and never let me embarrass myself like that again!” I surrendered, throwing my arms in the air before letting them collapse over my face. “He probably thinks I’m a freak,”

“Are you joking? He was more smitten than you were!” This caught my attention, and I tore my arms away from my eyes.

“Huh? Elaborate!” I snapped.

“You seriously didn’t notice? He’d been staring at you since you stepped foot in here, didn’t you see him? At first I thought it was weird, but then I realized he was smoking hot so I decided I’d let it slide,” “Comforting,” Sarcasm drips from my words. “Y’know serial killers and stalkers can be hot, too.” I rolled my eyes.

“ I seem to recall you saying something along the lines of ‘I wouldn’t mind getting mur--’,”

“Alright, Tommy, we get it.” I cut him off in embarrassment. “Please continue.”

“He comes in here a lot, so I knew he was alright. He was beet red the entire time you were talking. Didn’t you see the way he was in a perpetual state of stupid smiling? Dude, he was definitely into you and really bad at hiding it,” Tommy concluded.

I smiled a big, dumb smile. I didn’t notice the fact that he was nervous, so he probably didn’t notice that I was dying, right?

“Tommy, I think we might have a keeper.”

“Thank god, I don’t think I could stand to see you go to Prom alone. That would be too depressing, even for me,” Tommy enthused. I propped my feet against the edge of the counter, staring at the tips of my boots. For the first time in a long time, Tommy is silent. I can’t get his eyes out of my head. Then again, I don’t know if I want to.

_________

#jason dean #heathers #jason dean x reader #a sickly satisfaction series #irl dont look #irl don't look #veronica sawyer #heather mcnamara #heather chandler #heather duke

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mycryptosuite · 1 year ago

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julieandthephantomsblogduh · 4 years ago

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We’re Sorry

Luke!sister reader x Reggie

I am legit the biggest fan of the luke!sister x reggie trooop so... Also this is kinda the plot for the next Malia episode so watch out for that. Legit when I saw this I was so excited to write it!!! There wasn’t a specific song mentioned here but as soon as I read this prompt the song Bang Bang by Jessie J, Ariana Grande and Nicki Minaj popped in my head so I decided to roll with it. Anyway stay safe ya’ll and I hope you enjoy! - Requested by @xyacelisx (I just realized I lost the actual ask which sucks but thats okay)

PS for the song - Y/N is Jessie J, Julie is Ariana Grande because their range is beautiful and Flynn is Nicki Minaj because her wrap in I Got The Music was amazing

We stood on the stage as the entire school flooded out to head to Carrie’s house.

“Great, just great...” Julie sits at the edge of the stage, feet dangling off.

“At least the new kid is still here,” Flynn says, pointing to the new kid dancing with another kid.

“C’mon Julie,” I say, trying to pull her up, “Two people is still an audience, you can still perform.”

“What’s the point? Everybody wanted to see Julie and the Phantoms... not just Julie.”

“If they don’t wanna respect you and be for there for you... girl you don’t need them,” I say walking towards the dj table and clicking a song, “You got us”

Music starts playing

Both girls turn to look at me as I shrug my shoulders, “Hey this was our anthem like five years ago,” I grab a mic off the table and switch it on.

Sure she got a body like an hourglass

But I can give it to you all the time

Sure she got a booty like a Cadillac

But I can send you into overdrive (oh)

Flynn joins me on stage,

You've been waiting for that

Step on up, swing your bat

I walk up to Julie and hand her mic to her,

You see anybody could be bad to you

You need a good girl to blow your mind, yeah

Bang bang into the room (I know you want it)

Bang bang all over you (I'll let you have it)

Wait a minute let me take you there (ah)

Wait a minute 'til you (ah, hey!)

Bang bang there goes your heart (I know you want it)

Back, back seat of my car (I'll let you have it)

Wait a minute let me take you there (ah)

Wait a minute 'til you (ah, hey!)

Julie takes over as the boys pop out onto the dance floor,

She might've let you hold her hand at school

But I'mma show you how to graduate

“Guess who just showed up?” I told Flynn. She just rolls her eyes at me, “You guys don’t deserve someone who shows up three hours late”

No, I don't need to hear you talk the talk

Just come and show me what your momma gave (oh yeah)

I heard you've gotta big baby, mouth but don't say a thing

See anybody could be good to you

You need a bad girl to blow your mind

Julie walks back to us, and we start jumping around stage

Bang bang into the room (I know you want it)

Bang bang all over you (I'll let you have it)

Wait a minute let me take you there (ah)

Wait a minute 'til you (ah, hey!)

Bang bang there goes your heart (I know you want it)

Back, back seat of my car (I'll let you have it)

Wait a minute let me take you there (ah)

Wait a minute 'til you (ah, hey!)

“FLYNN DROP THOSE BEATS”

(You know what, girls? let me show you how to do it)

She flips her hair and starts rocking out, Julie and I hyping her

It's Myx Moscato

It's frizz in a bottle

It's Nicki full throttle, it's oh, oh

Swimming in the grotto

We winning in the lotto

We dipping in the powder blue, four door

Kitten so good

It's dripping on wood

Get a ride in the engine that could

Go, Batman, robbin' it

Bang bang, cockin' it

Queen Nicki dominant, prominent

It's me, Julie, and Y/N

We all smile looking at each other; Flynn continues spitting bars

If they test me, they sorry

Ride his uh like a Harley

Then pull off in his Ferrari

If he hanging we banging

Phone ringing, he slanging

It ain't karaoke night but get the mic 'cause I'm singing

B to the A to the N to the G to the uh

B to the A to the N to the G to the hey

I walk to the front of the stage, belting out

See anybody could be good to you

You need a bad girl to blow your mind (your mind) (okay)

“YES Y/N” I can see Reggies mouth gape a little

I walk back to them, we jump around, dancing and singing;

Bang bang into the room (I know you want it)

Bang bang all over you (I'll let you have it)

Wait a minute let me take you there (ah)

Wait a minute 'til you (ah, hey!)

Bang bang there goes your heart (I know you want it)

Back, back seat of my car (I'll let you have it)

Wait a minute let me take you there (ah)

Wait a minute 'til you (ah, hey!)

Bang bang into the room (I know you want it)

Bang bang all over you (I'll let you have it)

Yo, I said bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang

Bang bang there goes your heart (I know you want it)

Back, back seat of my car (I'll let you have it)

Wait a minute let me take you there (ah)

Wait a minute 'til you (ah, hey!)

I bring the girls in for a hug, “I love you guys.”

“That was amazing!” I hear Luke say, looking at us.

I was too mad to even think about listening to them right now. “I’m going to get some Ice cream for us,” I say walking away.

I head towards the cafeteria, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I can’t believe they had the nerve to show up after not coming on time. They literally promised Julie they wouldn’t be late. I try pulling open the doors to the kitchen, only to realize that I had left the keys in the gym. Letting out a yell of frustration, I slide down the door, sitting on the floor with my head in my hands.

“Y/n!”

I look up to see Luke and Reggie staring back at me.

“What do you guys want?”

“You have such a pretty voice,” Reggie says, smiling at me with a look of adoration on his face.

“Thank you,” I whisper, looking down. Right now, compliments weren’t going to save them.

“Are you okay?” Luke asked, crouching down in front of me.

“Am I okay? Do I look okay to you guys? Also you should be asking Julie that. You guys left her dying today. You abandoned her today... and when you do that to my best friend you do it to me. You guys broke the biggest promise you made to her,” I glare at them.

“We’re sorry about that. We just got... carried away.” Reggie tries, also taking a seat in front of me.

I let out a huff, “Sorry is not going to cut it guys. You really hurt Julie and I today.”

“We had a good reason...” Luke tries.

“No you didn’t,” I interrupt him, “I understand why you wanted revenge on Bobby. I do. He betrayed me to by not telling me about the songs... about you. But you could have done that another time. Today was supposed to be about Julie and the Phantoms, the start of something new. That’s not going to work until you guys can understand that the best way to get revenge is by becoming something better without him.”

“You’re right Y/n, and we’re sorry we didn’t realize that before,” Luke says.

“Please forgive us Y/n... we’re really sorry,” Reggie starts.

“And if you won’t forgive us...” Luke says with a little smirk, “We’re going to follow you everywhere and sing ‘We’re sorry’ to you until you forgive us.”

I give them a confused look. I had no idea what we’re sorry was, “I have no idea what that is?”

They both look at each other before standing up and clearing their throats. Suddenly, they start harmonizing and sing the words, ‘We’re sorry’, over and over again.

I let that go on for a minute before I start getting annoyed, “Okay OKAY stop... please.”

“Please forgive us,” Luke asks, with his puppy eyes 🥺

“Yeah Y/n...” Reggie says, pulling out his best pout and puppy eyes, “Pleasse forgive us.”

I continue to glare at them, even though my heart was telling me to just forgive them.

“Fine then,” Luke says, holding his hands out and his guitar appears out of nowhere.

He starts strumming it before the two boys start singing, ‘We’re Sorry’ again. Over and over and over and over and over and...

I look between the two of them, “Okay please stop...” I plead standing up, “You guys are... ugh.”

They turn to face each other before looking back at me.

“So you forgive us?” Luke says, smiling.

“Only if you guys profusely apologize to Julie for hurting her and making it up to her somehow, and...” I turn to face Reggie, “If Reggie comes over tonight and sings me his country song.”

“Okay never mind, you don’t need to forgive us,” Luke says, tugging Reggie away.

“C’mon man!” Reggie says, “That songs all yours Y/n!” He gives me a little wink.

“No! Stop flirting!” Luke stays, trying to physically block us from each other. “And you!” He turns towards Reggie, “Stop hitting on my sister!”

“Sorry, she’s too pretty,” He sends me a smirk, making me blush.

“Reggie!” He goes to hit him but Reggie flashes away, saying, “See you later babe.”

I blush as Luke turns towards me, “No! No Reggie.”

“Yes Reggie,” I smirk walking back towards the gym.

“No Y/n! Come back... please... y/n!”

I just continue to walk away laughing, “Sorry big brother. You should have been on time.”

Bang Bang By Jessie J, Ariana Grande and Nicki Minaj.

I hope this was to ya’lls satisfaction and you guys liked it. My requests are open and feedback is always welcomed. Thanks and stay safe ❤️

#julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #jatp #luke patterson! sister #jatp netflix #julie and the phantoms fanfic #patterson!reader x reggie #requests

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huntertales · 4 years ago

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Part Two: Angel of Mercy. (Heaven Can’t Wait S09E06)

Episode Summary: When Dean gets a call from Castiel about a possible case dealing with spontaneous human combustion, the older Winchester decides to investigate–on his own. The reader decides to tag along. She doesn’t take no for an answer when Dean shares his odd hesitations on letting her work on a hunt with Castiel. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 3,514.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

You suppose the different ways Cas could have ended up after going his own way might have been worse than where he was today. The angel-turned-human was blending into society without much trouble. Sure, he was a little awkward. Didn’t get most things like etiquette and social norms. You hoped he picked up enough knowledge from the few years he spent among humans. So far from what you could tell, he was doing okay. It made you breathe a little easier in some kind of reassurance that he was able to do things on his own without any help from you and the boys. Much as you wanted to lend a hand on this journey to make sure he was all right.

In some way you understood a little too well the vulnerability of learning how to live on your own. You struggled to find your own footing after your mother passed away. John was unreliable in any way. He took the boys and went on his way after making sure the legal aspects of you living on your own were cleared. Occasionally he checked on you to make sure you were still alive. He taught you some tricks on how to protect yourself from monsters. But he never taught you anything useful in life. Basic skills on how to be an adult. Your mother might have planned out your life for when you turned eighteen, thinking she had a few years to help teach you to live without her. Things never worked out that way. A demon threw a wrench in her plan and screwed everything up.

Angels, demons. Whatever kind of creature it was, they always somehow managed to screw everything to hell. While the circumstances were vastly different compared to the situation Cas was dealing with, it all boiled down to the same thing. The lifestyle you relied on, the normality that you didn't realize you depended so much on, vanished. You had to deal with the loneliness and responsibilities of being an adult. You were forced to grow up quickly and learn how to be an adult, Cas had to learn how to be...human. Learn the things that were second nature to you. The proper importance of daily hygiene and when to eat—and what to properly eat. Things he never had to worry about before.

Somehow Cas learned enough to have made it this far without his fellow siblings sniffing out where he was. He found his footing and blended with society. He was just another average human working a day job. From what you were able to observe from the distance it seemed like Cas was just another average working waiting on people. Maybe a little more on the stranger side. No matter what, Cas had a slightly awkward charm to him. He was doing all right. But you weren't satisfied with a distance observation.

Cas was behind the counter tending to a customer with a little too much enthusiasm for a retail worker. The woman was a little weirded out from the thumbs up he gave after handing over her lotto ticket. She forced a smile of her own before being on her way, letting the next customer in line step up. Which turned out to be two familiar faces the angel didn't expect to see. You offered the guy a smile from the look of shock that crossed his face. Dean wasted no time making things awkward when he pretended to be another paying customer.

"I'll have some beef jerky and a pack of menthols." Dean said.

“What are you two doing here?” Cas asked in a quiet tone of his voice. His body language drastically changed from the customer he tended to before. All of his friendliness seemed to have vanished for his friends who drove all the way here for him.

"Gee, it's nice to see you, too, Cas." You replied to the angel's rather frigid and distant greeting with a bit of hurt in your voice.

"It's Steve now." The angel corrected you. You furrowed your brow slightly when he gestured to his nametag pinned to his hideous blue vest he wore. You forced yourself to bite back a laugh from the reality of the situation. Heaven's most fierce and loyal soldier was now working at a gas station. "And...you both surprised me."

"Well, the feeling is mutual." Dean agreed with the angel. He offered little support for the struggle Cas had to go through in order to keep himself safe. He found all of this comical as yourself, but he didn't have the restraint to keep his feelings well hidden. The sight of his friend working in retail was all too amusing not to pass up the chance to poke fun at the situation. "I mean, I knew you had to lay low from the angel threat, but, uh, wow! This is some cover."

Cas didn't find the way you and Dean were handling what he had been doing very helpful. He moved a few steps down the counter so the three of you could continue this conversation away from any lingering ears. "My grace is gone. What did you expect?" Cas asked. "Do you have any idea how hard it was? When I fell to earth, I didn't just lose my powers. I had nothing. Now...I'm a sales associate." The angel tried to see the silver lining of things at what he was able to accomplish on his own. You and Dean weren't as enthusiastic as him for the way he was living his life compared to the way it could be.

A delivery driver briefly interrupted your conversation so he could get Cas to sign off on some products. "I'm responsible for inventory, sales, customer service." Cas scribbled down the fake name he'd been going by and thanked the driver before continuing on of all the things he deemed important. You never liked to stick your nose up at the hard work people do for whatever job they might do, but seeing this was...pathetic. “I keep this place clean and presentable. And when my manager’s busy, I even prepare the food.

"Wow." Dean didn't even try to hide his opinion on what he thought of this whole thing. "So you went from fighting heavenly battles to nuking taquitos?"

Cas must still be learning how to read between the lines of what people say to the tone of their voice. He didn’t understand that Dean wasn’t being supportive from the way he spoke his words. The angel still smiled, like he was proud of himself. “Nachos too.”

You and Dean silently agreed this whole arrangement was not working out. But the angel refused to see things from your perspective. He thought what he was doing was perfect. It might be for any fellow normal human. Not for an angel like him who had done so much. He couldn’t waste out the rest of his days working nine to five and waiting on people. You wanted him back on the road with you and the boys. Trying to get his grace back and fix his home that was up in heaven. Cas continued on working, refusing to keep entertaining this conversation standing idly while he got paid.

“This is not you, man. You are above this.” Dean tried to talk some sense into the angel while he stepped out from the stockroom carrying a box full of products. “Come on.”

“No, Dean. I’m not.” Cas said. He set the box down on a shelf and gave you the real reason why he refused to budge on his new life. The simplicity of it all was comforting to him. “I failed at being an angel. Everything I ever attempted came out wrong. But here, at least I have a shot at getting things right. I guess you can’t see it, but there’s a real dignity in what I do—a human dignity.”

“Hate to interrupt you guys, but, Steve?” You looked over your shoulder when you heard a female voice jump into the conversation. A woman stood with a mop and bucket at her side, from the familiar vest she wore it was clear she was one of Cas’ coworkers. “Customer had an accident in the men’s room.”

“I’m on it.” Cas said.

“Oh, and tonight—seven at my place work for you?” She asked a vague question that made you wonder what they were talking about. Cas nodded his head, and the way his lips stretched into a smile helped connect the dots. She returned the smile with one of her own. "You're the best."

You picked up enough social cues to realize what was going on. Dean had a feeling himself of what was brewing between Cas and his coworker. “That’s what this is about!” You softly nudged the angel in the arm and smiled at him. Cas responded with absolute confusion at what you were hinting around. “Come on. The girl.”

“No, Y/N. It’s not.” Cas said. You rolled your eyes and raised your brow from what he was trying to deny. Either that, or he was too naive to understand what his friend was hinting around. Cas was even more clueless when it came to things as romance. Poor fella nearly got himself killed after being led to bed by a pretty face. "Nora—she's a very nice woman, I'm pretty sure she's not a reaper intent on killing me, and she's asked me out. That’s something humans do, right?”

“Yeah. I mean, my dates used to end when I ran out of singles. And I can’t tell you the last time Y/N and I went on one.” Dean said. Your love life as hunters meant your chances of dating were rare to almost none. The world ending and angels falling out of the sky put a damper on your relationship at times. But for someone like Cas, who was trying to live like the average person, they were. Dean had to agree with him on that. “Yeah, that’s something that humans do.”

Your conversation was briefly stopped at the sound of Dean's phone going off. He stepped away to take it when he recognized the number from the sheriff you spoke to at the first crime scene. It allowed Cas to tend back to his job to work on stocking the shelf

“There was another kill—over at the high school.” Dean informed the both of you. “You comin’, Cas?”

“I wouldn’t be much use.” Cas mumbled. “I don’t have my powers.”

“So? I’ve had powers and not once did they help me with hunting.” You said. “Dean’s never had powers and he manages to do just fine.”

“Both of you are hunters.” Cas said.

“And you’re a hunter in training, remember?” You reminded the angel.

“Yeah.” The angel replied with the least enthusiastic tone he could muster up. You didn’t understand why he wasn’t willing to get back into the game. “Dean said I sucked.”

You huffed out a breath from Dean's abrasiveness and turned your gaze over to the man. Your hardening expression made him suddenly regret his words spoken in the past. "I didn't say that." Dean tried to back himself out of the corner he put himself in. But he struggled to do so when you crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for his response. "I said that there was, uh, uh...you know, 'room for improvement.'"

“Come on, Cas.” You said. “For old time’s sake.”

Cas let out a sigh of defeat, deciding to agree with the plan after all. “All right, my shift’s over in five minutes, and my date’s not until later, so…”

“Attaboy!” You cheered, lightly slapping a hand on his shoulder from seeing him hunting again. “Dean, go make yourself useful and get the car.”

��Not just yet.” Cas stopped the man from heading out the door. You and Dean gave the angel a confused response from the interruption. It seemed you forgot Cas was still on the clock. “I have to clean the bathroom.”

“Have fun.” You said. You tried to hide the grimacing expression that wanted to cross your face at the idea of what he had to do. While Cas made his way over to the mop, you called out some friendly advice. “Make sure to wash your hands afterwards.”

+ + +

The three of you arrived at the crime scene a short time after Cas finished up work. You and Dean flashed your badges to the officer keeping an eye on the scene after you ducked under the police tape guarded off the crime scene. A crowd of high schoolers gathered around to figure out what was going on. Cas trailed behind the both of you, still wearing his vest after you told him to take it off. Thankfully nobody said anything. The angel went off to explore the scene while you and Dean headed over to the sheriff who was speaking to a teenager who looked to be distraught at what she witnessed. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest and cheeks stained with tears as she retold the story of what happened to the sheriff.

“One second we’re talking, and the next, she just...stops.” The girl explained the situation that led to all of you here. “And then everyone in the cafeteria freaks, rushing and pointing out the window, at—” She couldn’t finish her sentence from the sob that escaped her from the grief she was feeling. Your expression softened as she placed a hand to her mouth to keep the noise from escaping. “Could—Could that really be her?”

The school bus that was helping block out the crowd of students was also covered in the same bubblegum pink shade you saw at the previous crime scene. Unfortunately what killed the four previous victims striked again.

“And nobody saw anybody else at the crime scene—a man, woman, anything unusual?” You asked her, hoping she might give you some kind of lead into figuring out what might be to blame for this. The girl responded by shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders. Your next question you approached in a softer tone. “Your friend, was she possibly depressed?”

“Depressed?” She repeated your question, not sure what you meant.

“Any thought of suicide?” You explained a bit more bluntly.

“Ew. No.” The girl responded in the most teenage way possible when her expression scrunched up at such a thought. “I mean, she was kind of bummed that dick-bag Travis broke up with her in front of the whole school.” Dean gave her a curious expression at what she meant by kinda bummed. “Like more bummed than when she got a ‘C’ on a quiz, and less bummed when her parents split up. Kinda...bummed.”

The girl's tone of voice shifted into anger at the strange questions you were asking her. You figured you weren't going to get much else out of her from what she told you. You felt a slight nudge to your arm from Dean to get your attention. He nodded his head for you to follow him after discovering Cas was nowhere to be seen. You looked around yourself, but the angel disappeared. You excused yourself with a small smile before heading with Dean to find where your friend wandered off to.

Cas made his way back to the Impala after scoping out the crime scene himself. It seemed whatever happened caused some sort of distress in him. You started to grow concerned when you found him with both hands on the hood, his body hunched forward and head hanging low.

"Cas, what's wrong?" You asked the angel, your tone growing with concern.

“I’ve seen this before.” Cas said. You and Dean exchanged a glance at one another from the sort of twist you weren’t expecting. It prompted you to ask him where, leading to a creature you would have never suspected. “In heaven.”

"What?" You tried to hide your frustration from the mention of his siblings possibly to blame. But it didn't come much as a surprise to you. All sorts of angel activity had been sprouting up all over the country since the fall. "Are you saying an angel did this?"

“It’s no ordinary angel.” Cas mumbled. He fell silent for a moment, at the overwhelming energy around him. The angel might have been stripped of his powers that rendered him vulnerable as a human, but he could still feel the presence of his fellow brother. "Dean, Y/N. This is bad. This is very bad.”

You quickly moved the conversation elsewhere when the topic turned into something you didn't want a civilian or a cop to overhear. The three of you got into the Impala to further discuss what Cas discovered. And what this might mean for the rest of this town.

“On the battlefields of heaven, there was a special class of angels, the rit zien. It's enochian for 'hands of mercy.'" Cas explained to you and Dean about the history of his fellow siblings. The one who were to blame for these murders. "They function like medics. They tended to the wounded. They healed those who could be healed, but for the mortally wounded, those who were past saving, the rit zien's job was to put them down."

“But the granulated bodies?” Dean asked.

“This was their special ability.” Cas went on to tell you more. “They had this way of smiting that was so quick and so total that it rendered death virtually painless.”

“Yeah, but these aren't wounded angels that they’re vaporizing,” You noted the key difference between the angels’ victims and who they were trained to take down. “they’re pepole.”

“Right. I don’t know. The rit zien home in one pain, like it’s a beacon to them. So, when this angel fell to earth, he heard the victims’ cries, their anguish,” Cas started to piece together the reason why all these people were targeted. Pain was pain to this angel. They weren’t able to tell the difference. “Same as he’d hear an angel’s in heaven. He’s continuing his heavenly work down here. One suffering human at a time.”

“Yeah, but this last victim was not suffering.” You said. The highs and lows of being a hormonal teenager with their fluctuating emotions was something you and Dean were no stranger to. Both of you had been the victim’s age what felt like many years ago. You knew there was no correlation to the depressed and suicidal victims he killed before. “She was just a normal, moody kid.”

“But he just got here. The ebb and flow of human emotion—guys, I’ve been on earth for a few years, and I’ve only begun to grasp it.” Cas said. He put things into perspective at what this might mean. You slowly began to realize that everyone in this town was at risk. “To him, pain is pain.”

“So everybody’s fair game?” Dean took a wild guess at what the angel was hinting at, Cas nodded his head. The older Winchester let out a scoff as he rolled his eyes from the furthered complications about this case. "All right, well, we got to stop him."

“You and Y/N have to stop him.” Cas corrected the man.

You furrowed your brow slightly from the angel's response. You leaned over in your seat to catch a glimpse of his face when he turned his head to look forward. A familiar expression you'd seen before crossed his features. "You're scared."

“It’s different now, Y/N.” Cas admitted to you. “Everything feels different.”

“You’re right.” Dean thought to himself for a few seconds before agreeing with the angel. Cas was doing fine on his own, he needed to worry about the safety of yourself with the other angel hitching around in your body. It was how things needed to be for now. “All right, Y/N and I’ll track down this kevorkian wannabe, and we’ll put him down.”

“Okay.” The angel mumbled.

“Stay safe, please. I don’t want to worry about you every second of the day.” You told the angel. You flashed him a farewell smile, thinking this was where your paths together ended. “Go on that date, all right? You deserve some happiness for once. Hell, live a normal life if that’s what you really want.”

“Okay.” He repeated his response again. You gave him a funny look from how he was acting. Dean turned on the engine and looked over to the angel. A few seconds passed and Cas continued to sit in the passenger side, causing Dean to wonder if he was going to go his own way. “I need a ride.”

You had to stifle a chuckle from the favor he was asking of you. Cas managed to find a job on his own and was adapting slowly to human life, but it seemed there were still some things he needed working on. Getting there might be a slow and steady process, yet you had a feeling Cas would be just fine on his own.

[Next Part]

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kashimos-hajime · 5 years ago

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run to you | amaranthine (6/6) | b.b.

summary: “How dare you make me choose between the son I chose and the man I love?”

WARNINGS: blood, civil war bullshit, swearing, angst like HELLO, mentions of torturing/brainwashing, but some softness too, ends on a hopeful note pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 11.2k

a/n: super long chapter bc i tried to pack the essentials of 2016 into here! hope you enjoy loves and sorry for the wait!! there’s a LOT of subtle tony and reader family vibes. it’s 224 am as i post/edit this so excuse any of that. vibes are run to you by pentatonix.

amaranthine masterlist

I've been settling scores I've been fighting so long But I've lost your war And our kingdom is gone

You move Bucky Barnes to the bunker he left forty years ago while he heals. He sleeps a lot, although nightmares plague then more often than not, and you try to busy yourself by running errands—trying to find something for you to do. You’ve spent the last forty years focused on achieving this one thing and now…

Now, you’re bored.

It’s only been three days.

“I’m going to find Tony, okay?” you mumble into the pillow, relishing the gentle, tentative caress of his fingers along your bicep. He’s been watching you sleep for the past hour or so, blue eyes muted and soft. You’d spent the night soothing his nightmares, wiping away the sweat, assuring him that you’re here, and you’re exhausted, but the day needs to start no matter what. Opening your eyes, you meet those blue eyes, and brush strands of hair away from his forehead. His pink lips are twisted into a frown, and you smile. “What is it?”

“If I’m staying with you, then we can’t stay here,” he whispers. You wrinkle your nose, leaning forward to kiss him chastely before getting up but he cups the back of your neck, bringing you close again.

“I can’t just disappear on Tony,” you mumble against his mouth. “I need to tell him.”

“No.” It’s sharp, succinct, the taste of fear and desperation that seeps into your skin as he grabs your wrists, and you sit up, pulling him up so you can look at him. You swallow your words as he shakes his head, metal arm clicking, clicking clicking.

“Bucky, I can’t keep this a secret from him. I can’t keep what happened with Howard and Maria a secret. He’s my family.” Your hand gently rubs the scarring of his shoulder before running down his bare chest, and your fingers trace the stitches where the chest tube had been before finding his waist. “I can’t, and you can’t make me choose between him or you. Please don’t make me choose.”

“I wouldn’t,” he whispers, his hand going up and down your arm. The rough calluses of his palm, the warmth of his skin, it sends shivers down your spine. “I could never do that to you, but don’t you see he’ll hate me?”

“He’ll understand. When you explain it to him, he’ll understand that that wasn’t you.” You hold him closer, his forehead pressing into your chest and you close your eyes, running your fingers through his hair. Your other hand holds his head to you, and he’s silent, grabbing at the sheets around them. He’s holding himself back from touching you. “I’m not going to let him hurt you.” You rest your chin on his head and he lets out a shuddering breath at the feel of your fingers tracing the curve of his back. A sort of desperation sinks into your gut and you slide your arms around him, palms smoothing over the scars carved into his muscle. They’re faded but still waxy to your touch, and you bury your face into his hair.

“They’ll take me when you tell him. He’ll take me,” he murmurs, voice hoarse and breaking. “You can’t stop them from taking me.”

“Bucky—”

“It doesn’t matter.” He pulls back, eyes empty of anything. He is the void of grief, guilt, anger. He is the devil’s puppet, and now that you’ve cut his strings, he does not know how to move on his own. He wants what he thinks he deserves. “It doesn’t matter whether or not I was the Winter Soldier. I still did it.” Your hands cup his face, and his hands find your waist as he sucks in a huge breath, trying to calm a heart rate you can hear racing through his body. Sitting in his lap, you simply soak in those tired features, before sliding your arms around his neck again and hugging him tight.

“Let me do it all,” you whisper. Kissing his hair, you pull yourself away, and his eyes drop to his hands. You press your lips together, jaw clenching, and something inside you breaks at how small he looks, hunched over in your bed. “Don’t worry, okay? Get some sleep.”

“I should pay for what I did, shouldn’t I?” he whispers. “At least you’ll know where I am.”

“Let me handle it, love,” you repeat. “Don’t spiral on me before we know for sure, alright?” Pulling on a shirt, your mind is running through the list of all the things you can do. Everything you can’t do. Some very selfish part of you wants to hide Bucky away from the world, give him the time he needs—the time you need, but you think of Tony who you’ve always put first before anything else.

The abject horror of watching him fly into the wormhole, the death of his parents, nearly losing Pepper…

Tony has grounded you ever since he was born. He’s been with you despite everything you’ve lost. You grieved his parents together, you were there when he walked across the stage even though his father wasn’t. You love Tony… you love him…

But Bucky… you have dedicated your entire life to him. You have loved him, searched for him despite all odds. You mourned him for thirty years, and then the other forty he wasn’t with you. You stay up at night imagining all that could’ve been, and still be.

To pit them against each other is impossible, yet you must choose anyway.

You meet up with Tony for lunch and say you have a new lead in Europe. I need a ride, maybe some supplies. This’ll have to be off the grid.

Tony worries, but that’s in his nature, and you can’t say anything about it.

You ask Bucky where he wants to go in the world, and you promise you’ll take him.

He tells you Bucharest—a place untouched by the kiss of frost, untouched by the Winter Soldier, a place where the two of you can start anew.

You fight off the nausea curdling your stomach the whole flight there.

It’s been two years since Washington, and Bucky still wakes up surprised when you present to him a cup of hot coffee and a plate of breakfast. It’s become one of your favourite things, to spoil Bucky Barnes, and you do it every chance you get. There’s a quiet routine the two of you have fallen into ever since the two of you decided to settle in Bucharest, and you enjoy it. You don’t mention his nightmares—they’ve receded into only three times a week instead of every night—nor does he bring up the fact that you’ve left everything behind for him—you pick up your phone to call Tony at least once every day before convincing yourself it’s better this way and setting it back down without dialling.

No, you follow the routine.

Wake up in bed together with the occasional surprise breakfast in bed

Shower and then plan out the day after breakfast

Go out to the markets

Have lunch together and go to the library

Your afternoons are normally spent together, but there is the occasion Bucky will go on a run or you’ll spend yours baking, and you won’t see him until dusk, but you don’t mind.

No one’s searching for you now, although the backpack underneath the floorboards and the one in the false bottom of one of your empty drawers still whisper in your ear.

“How about plums for dessert?” he asks, uncertain as the two of you walk the markets. It’s bustling, loud with life, and you smile, wrapping an arm around his. You squeeze his hand, and his eyes soften when his eyes meet yours. You’ve given him a haircut just this morning, and it makes him look younger, like the man you knew back in the forties. Those eyes are his, too. Bucky’s slowly coming back to you every day. “They should be in season, and fresh fruit seem nice.”

“That sounds perfect. I’ll go get the papers,” you say, and he nods. They don’t normally waste the money they have on things they didn’t need like the papers just in case the two of you need to pack up quickly and move, but you know he likes to read news about Steve. Steve. Hah. You wonder what he’d think, knowing you’ve been hiding your best friend away from him for two years. Knowing Bucky wanted to hide at all.

Bucky’s eyes are doubtful, but you merely adjust the cap on his head and smile. Although your fingers want to brush hair behind his ear, you know that you’ve snipped it all away. Instead, you cup his cheek, thumb brushing underneath his eye. You lean up to peck his jaw, untangling yourself from him and his eyes linger on your face before he turns to walk into the maze of stalls. Surveying your surroundings, you watch people pass by, going on with their day, before spotting a vendor across the street. He’s chewing lazily on a straw, leaning on the desk as he reads the newest lotto numbers, and you wait until the light turns, crossing the road.

“Good afternoon,” you begin, approaching the stall. Your gaze trails across the magazines, the little toys and bobs that tourists would love, before glancing up at the man who drags his eyes away from the little TV he has hanging at the top left corner of his stall. You smile, adjusting the hoodie on your frame. “Do you have today’s paper?”

“Yeah.” He lazily grabs one from the box, sliding it first page down over. “Three leu.”

You procure three one leu bills, handing it over for the paper and you dip your head in thanks before heading back across the street. You tuck the newspaper underneath your arm, eyes scanning for a place to give it a brief read. Bucky’s still wandering the markets, his hand holding onto a bag of some other vegetables you know he hadn’t intended to buy, but you’ve convinced him you can come up with something no matter what he buys. You like the variety it brings, and you hope he likes the choice of it all.

His eyes catch yours as if he knows you’re staring and you wave, unclamping the paper from your arm. His lips twitch into a faint smile before he approaches the fruit vendor and you find an empty spot on the bench, sitting down with your bag in your lap.

The day’s not too warm or too cold, and you relish in the gentle breeze kissing your cheeks as you set your gaze on the paper.

Your breath spears into your ribs, everything inside you draining out as you read the front page of the news.

Winter Soldier. Bombing in Vienna at a United Nations Conference. The Winter Soldier.

Winter Soldier.

Your eyes widen as you soak in the black ink, printed boldly, sharply into the dulled paper. Your hands tremble and your guts are in knots. Chains wrap around your stomach, squeezing bile up your throat as you throw the paper off of you like it’s poison. Your eyes sweep the area, blood rushing down to your legs as you search for threats and Bucky, bumping into random civilians who have no idea what you’ve just read. You can barely contain yourself to a run, unwilling to draw attention to yourself as you scour the markets. He isn’t at the fruit vendor’s stand. Not at this one anyway.

Shit, shit, shit.

You know it isn’t Bucky.

Bucky was here with you.

Shit, shit, shit. Where is he?

Holding your bag tight to you, you feel the contours of the pistol you carry with you at all times, eyes searching, eyes trying to find you. His eyes—ocean eyes—brown jacket, that red henley. Red and blue and brown—

His voice, that sweet voice speaking Romanian, pierces your hearing and you turn to the source of the sound, seeing him lean over as he rolls a plum between his metal fingers. Fingers you know feel just like his flesh hand does, just as your hand does.

You focus on this as you walk towards him, as strange as it seems. You focus on his metal hand covered beneath glove and sleeve, and how whenever you hold it, you don’t feel like you’re holding something dead. How whenever you hold Bucky’s hand, you do not feel like you are dead.

“Love,” you call in Romanian, and he turns to you. For a moment, his eyes study you before he smiles and looks at the wooden tray of plums proudly.

“What do you think, angel?”

“They’re lovely, but we have to go,” you whisper, not giving the fruits a second glance. Bucky’s still eyeing the rows of plums but you reach up, turn his face towards you. His eyes soak you in, soak in the panic radiating out of your every pore, the wild fear, and his eyebrows furrow together. He takes your hands, squeezing them gently, before excusing himself from the vendor and pulling you away.

“What is it?”

“We have to get back to the flat, now,” you whisper, pulling him close to you. He wraps an arm instinctively around you, ducking his head so his face is covered by the shadow of his cap and you keep a smile on your face. Both of their sets of eyes are making sure no one’s tailing them as you explain in English under your breath, “There was a bombing at the United Nations conference in Vienna. Someone framed you. King T’Chaka is dead.”

“What? Who?”

“Someone who doesn’t want you to rest.” His arm tightens around your shoulder as you reach the apartment building. Urging Bucky into a quick march, the two of you part and you run up the stairs first as he bars the door to the lobby behind him.

“My journals—”

“We’ll go get them,” you assure quietly, already running through a list in your head of what you’ll need on short notice. You’ve been prepared for weeks for this. You’ve never had the luxury to be comfortable in that cramped apartment with only a mattress between them and newspaper plastered over the windows. Entering the apartment silently, you head for the bathroom first, unhooking the mirror from the wall to grab quinjet keys from the tiny hole in the wall. Your eyes pass over the trash can littered with Bucky’s hair, and you swallow, grabbing the scissors off the sink countertop.

Running into the kitchen, you unzip your purse and toss it aside, shoving the pistol down the back of your pants before crouching down and pulling open the drawer with the false bottom. Bucky hides next to you, helping you lift the false bottom to a backpack containing all your assault rifle parts, canned foods, water, and first-aid.

Unzipping it, you watch him stuff the little snacks they’ve spent money on, candy bars and granola, into your back as you listen out for intruders. You throw the scissors, just as you look at the back door.

Something scuffs outside your front door and every muscle in you freezes.

The door gives in quietly, and you pull the pistol out of your waistband slowly, eyes trained on Bucky. He shakes his head. He doesn’t recognize the sound of their footsteps either. Not their nosy neighbour, or the kid from upstairs who knocks on their door every once in a while.

The intruder steps foot and the wood gives in immediately. It’s their trap plank, one they know squeaks, and you know immediately it is a stranger. Shooting up, your arms press against the countertop, fingers hovering on the trigger as your thumb pushes the safety off, and you swallow, taking in a deep breath to steady your heart rate. Your mind is sharply focused on the feel of the gun in your hands, and your throat folds as the image of the intruder burns itself into your brain.

“Y/N?”

“Steve?” Straightening up, you lower the pistol but your body does not ease at the sight of Captain America here. “What are you doing here?”

“Heads up, Cap. German Special Forces approaching from the south.”

“Why are you here?” His shield is still to his side, and your jaw clenches. Bucky is still crouched by your feet, and you reach down to grab the backpack, swinging it onto your shoulder. “Tony said you were off the grid.”

You pull up your hood roughly, tying the drawstrings tight. “I am.”

“They’ve set the perimeter.”

“Where’s Bucky?”

“He wasn’t in Vienna. I can testify for him.” Your voice is taut as you walk out from behind the counter. Your foot is just over the floorboard where Bucky’s backpack full of journals is and you inhale deeply as you glance back at the door behind you. It’s a long fall down from the twenty-seventh story.

“Well, the people who think he did are coming here now. And they’re not planning on taking him alive.” His words sink into the air, and you nod. You hadn’t thought any different. “He’s here.” Steve‘s voice dips at the words, and you falter for a moment, finger finally relaxing on the trigger. His eyes scan the apartment, before landing on the kitchen counter and it’s almost as if he sees right through it and then this man, this sad, sad man looks at you again with grief powerful enough to kill anything. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

Your voice, soft, delicate: “Yes.” You turn to the crouching man who stands, head bowed before turning to meet Steve, and you can feel the tension, thick as butter on your tongue. How much you ache to just slice through it with a sharp knife, but you merely watch, study Steve’s expression. Although half his face is covered by a helmet, his eyes tell you everything. His eyes, wide with shock, blown with nostalgia, as they see a short-haired Bucky—a shadow of his best friend, who stares at him with such emptiness it pains the soul.

“Do you remember me?” Steve asks softly.

“They’re entering the building.”

“You’re Steve. I read about you in a museum.”

“We have to go, Bucky,” you whisper and he turns to you, nodding. Steve steps forward but you merely raise the gun to him. He freezes in his tracks. “I’m not afraid to shoot a soldier, Rogers.”

“They’re on the roof. I’m compromised.”

“You used to be,” he says and you sigh heavily as Bucky pulls off his leather glove to reveal that metal hand, gleaming and elegant and cold. You can hear the pattering of boots up the concrete steps, and your mind runs over escape routes through tunnels, sewers, ways you can escape without hurting anyone on your way out. The thought of death makes you exhausted.

You head towards the kitchen, pulling open a cabinet and grabbing the black holster, clipping it onto your belt, shaking your head to yourself. “We don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“This doesn’t have to end in a fight.”

“It always ends in a fight,” Bucky murmurs. You turn the safety on, slip the pistol into the holster. The two of you share a look, and you nod to reassure yourself and him.

“Five seconds.”

An uneasy glance to the window.

“You pulled me from the river. Why?”

“Four seconds.”

“We don’t have time for this.”

“I don’t know.”

“Three seconds.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Two seconds…. Breach! Breach! Breach!”

Glass shatters and you turn to the window as a flash bang barrels through the air. Smacking it out of the air, you turn away and close your eyes tight, away from the blinding white light just as another one is thrown through the glass. Steve muffles it with his shield and there’s German shouts on the other side of the door as the wood begins to give beneath the ram.

You’re grabbed by Bucky who shoves you towards the mattress, and you lift it up, rebounding another flash bang. A high pitched whine fills your ears, and you turn to see Bucky fling the table at the door to buy them more time. Letting the mattress fall, you run to roll behind the kitchen counter as soldiers burst through the window. Tackling the man, you manage to disarm him with a quick break to his arm before another guy bursts through the back door to the balcony. Steve takes care of him easily and you punch through the floorboard, grabbing the straps of Bucky’s backpack and flinging it out the door just as three more men stream in through the broken windows. Pushing yourself over, you roll into one of the soldier’s space, reaching up and grabbing his gun just as Bucky punches him out. Steve lands a nasty bash of a shield to the other man’s head, ringing him out, and you grab a cinder block, flinging it towards the last one.

The contact dazes him, shattering against his helmet which cracks upon impact and Bucky kicks him through the wall, letting him dangle off the side of the building just as Steve grabs at him.

“Buck, stop! You’re going to kill someone.”

Two more men repel down the side, landing on the window sill and you barely hear Bucky whisper ‘I’m not going to kill anyone’ before he grabs Steve and throws him at the intruder.

The other man detaches himself from his rope, dropping onto your mattress and you sprint at him, too quickly for him to bring up your gun. He raises his arms, trying to protect his face but you fling yourself at him, legs wrapping around his chest, arms catching him in a chokehold. Wrenching him back, the two of you fall together before you fling him off of backwards, letting him crash into the bookcase before you roll to your feet again.

Shotgun blasts disturb the pitched whining in your ears as they detach their door from its hinges and you suck in the breath of sulphur and gun oil, approaching the barred door with a determined set to your jaw. Bucky walks past you, leading the way while you keep an eye on his six. His metal fingers curl into a fist as you take a moment to gather yourself. The adrenaline pumping through your veins is pure fire and your muscles welcome every stretch and pull as he punches through the wall, knocking out whoever’s holding the shotgun, before barging through.

Slipping past Bucky, you jump onto whoever’s at the top of the staircase, bringing him and his friends down behind him. You fall into a messy heap, your body nipping from the sharp edges of the stairs as glass shatters above and you spare a glance to see someone repelling from the glass roof. The sound of an AR going off makes you flinch, but it’s cut short as more men climb up the steps.

Climbing up onto the red rail, you balance atop of it and wait for a man to pass just across from you on the flight below, and jump. Landing on him, you use him to break your fall, soldiers crowding around you, and you bring up his body as a shield, lunging into whoever’s down the steps next to you. Once you’re on solid ground, you block whatever hits come your way, flinging people off of you left and right.

You punch a man in the throat, fist leaving him breathless as you throw him into the wall before ducking underneath a swing from someone behind you. You grab their wrist, twisting it behind their back and pulling enough for his shoulder to give away in a small pop. He crumples before you as you kick the back of his knees before climbing over the railing once again and swinging down. You bypass all the other soldiers trying to catch up, too quick for them to realize you’re their target as you try to think.

Bucky’s still far above you, but he knows where his journals are and where the meet up point is.

You can’t count how many nights you’ve spent staying up with him, compiling a seamless escape plan with so many exchangeable routes. You descend down the steps, another wave of soldiers storming up and the first one swings up his gun, a smattering of bullets causing you to duck.

You spot a door that leads to an outer staircase and barge through with your shoulder. It opens with a slam, the sound ringing in your ears, and you don’t give yourself time to second doubt your abilities before you’re jumping.

Your legs bunch, stretch, bring you to the concrete railing before launching you forward. You flail through the air, the wind dragging at your clothes, and your heart shoves its way up your throat. You’re weightless for just a moment before you land, body tipping to roll out the momentum. You grab Bucky’s backpack, holding it to your chest and you turn around to see if he’s following.

Not even a minute later, you see him bursting from a few stories above you, landing with a painful grunt. He pushes himself up, sprinting towards you and you throw him his backpack just as a shadow flies over you.

Raising your gaze, you squint against the sun to see a black figure soar through the air. Bucky whirls around just as the attacker lands on him and you run towards him. The black figure is sleek, human, and you frown at the cat ears, the silver weave in between metal fibres.

The Black Panther.

Shit.

It doesn’t stop you from running at him full force, pushing him off his balance. You duck underneath a swipe of his claws, turning to Bucky quickly. “Go!”

Blocking a swing from the left, you grab his wrist and pull him into your fist, jabbing him twice underneath the ribs but the Panther's claws latch onto your sleeve, pulling you over and kicking you in the abdomen.

You crash into an air vent with a gasp, the air pushes out of your lungs as the Panther comes at you again. His claws dig into the vent beside your ear and you grimace, pushing back against his hand that comes gliding through metal like soft cheese. Slouching, you let his arm run over your head and bring a knee to your chest. When your foot connects with his chest, you launch him across the roof, his claws nearly nicking your other ear.

A whirling fills the air, the vibrations running through your bones, and you peer up at the sky to see a helicopter. The shudder of the machine gun ripples through the air and your eyes widen as a trail of bullet fire cracks the roof, dust spiralling through the air.

“Come on!”

A rough hand grabs your shoulder and you’re pulled roughly to your feet. Shoes digging into the concrete, you can feel the bullets nip at your heels, the spat, spat, spat of death chasing you before you throw yourself off the edge of the roof and onto a narrow edge. Bucky lands before you, not pausing before jumping off the roof and you follow after him. He catches you by the waist, softening the landing but it’s still a shockwave up your legs.

An ache festers in your shins, your lungs are on fire, and you try to keep your eyes on target as the helicopter cuts you off and you stutter to a halt while Bucky jumps into the tunnel. Glancing behind you, you see the Panther run after Bucky, and you vault over the barrier, your mind already making a new route.

The helicopter flies after you as you run across rooftops, the tunnel still running below you, and you feel weightless as you jump from building to building. Your feet slap against the rooftops, your lungs burning.

Dropping down onto the street, you spot a brick barrier around an opening. There are civilians, women, men, and children, who are sitting on the benches or going about their day and you wave them off, screaming for them to get to cover as the helicopter speeds after you. Jumping onto the bench you use it as a stepping off point and you jump into the hole, onto the tunnel road just as a car swerves to miss you. You whip around, trying to find Bucky and you see him sprinting towards you. Behind him are a plethora of blue and red and white lights, piercing the dimness of the tunnel.

The ground rumbles beneath your feet and you turn to see a couple on a pair of motorcycles speeding towards you. Buckling your backpack across your chest, you run towards the woman and you knock her off as carefully, as quickly as you can. She lets out a terrified shriek as you swing it off the road, your leg hooking on the seat.

Your fingers wrap around the handlebars, and as soon as the wheels are grounded once again, you speed against the direction of traffic. Leading the way, you press yourself against the motorcycle.

Everything falls to a blur, your eyes ahead but when an explosion prompts you to look back, your eyes widen at the rubble collapsing the tunnel. Bucky floors it, trying to catch up with you just as something is flung through the air.

You open your mouth to warn him but the next thing you know, Bucky’s skidding across asphalt, tumbling and you brake hard. Tires screeching and leaving black marks in the road, you jump off the cycle and run towards him while Steve tackles the Panther off of Bucky. There’s a loud crash of vehicles, and you barely glance up before you skid to a stop. Crouching beside him, your eyes search for injuries, road burns, anything, as the sound of sirens echo through the tunnel. Cars surround them on all sides.

“Are you okay?” you whisper, helping him up, and his hand snags on yours as he nods with a grunt. The Black Panther stands, and you eye him with scrutiny, standing in between the two men. When you’re sure he won’t attack you, you turn to look at Bucky. He’s panting hard and his hand finds your forearm, gripping you protectively as if he isn’t the one they’re searching for. You gently take his hand and put it down, raising your head to meet his eyes.

I’m sorry, he seems to say.

We’ll get out of this, you promise. You cup his cheek briefly, the flashing blue and red lights illuminating his face and he nods, eyes trained on the Panther. Letting your hand drop, you turn to assess the situation.

You eye your surroundings discreetly, keeping your body turned into Bucky, counting the number of guns pointed at you. All of the German Special Forces are taking cover behind their cars, suited in black bulletproof vests, the air rank with burnt cement and melting rubber. Behind the Panther, officers exit their vehicles, and you feel the landing of War Machine before you hear his voice.

A clank of metal, the quaint sound of his repulsors firing up. James Rhodes. Rhodey.

“Stand down, now. Congratulations, Cap. You’re a criminal.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Steve raise his hands and you’re nudged away from Bucky as he’s forced to his knees. A gun pushes into your back, forcing you into line beside the Black Panther. You let out a grunt but willingly go, not keen on having a gun shoved into your face even more than it already is, and keep your head down as Bucky is pushed onto his stomach. Manacles clink into place and you raise your hands. Undoing the drawstring, you feel the hood loosen around your head.

“Your Highness.”

You turn to the man beside you, a man who shares similar features to a man you’ve met in the past and he holds his helmet in his hands as he meets your gaze.

T’Chaka’s son stands before you and when you tug down the hood, you hear James’ filtered breath, a soft inhale he fails to mask to your impeccable hearing.

“Doctor.”

The guns lower and you raise your hands again.

"Hey, Rhodey.”

You stare into the thick, three inch glass cell, but Bucky refuses to look at you. He’s chained by the legs and wrists to the exam table, and you cross your arms over your chest.

“You should go,” he whispers in Romanian, his voice muffled by the barrier between them. “They only want me.”

“I’m not letting them take you without fighting for you. You didn’t do it.”

“They don’t care.” The task force around you is arguing about moving him, but none of them seem eager to go even close to the most dangerous man in history. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” The forklift’s engine ignites and you step back as it lifts him up, the glass cell tipping back and cutting off your conversation. You press your lips together, watching as his eyes struggle to meet yours, and every nerve in your body is telling you to follow after him, but you don’t.

“So, this was your off-grid mission, huh? Playing house with my potential godfather?”

You close your eyes, lower your head. Tony steps in beside you, and you sigh. “Tony, I—”

“How long?” He doesn’t sound angry, furious as you’d expected. Simply… simply interested. Opening your eyes again, you look up and Bucky’s gone.

“Ever since Washington. He didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Well, I’m glad you found him. I knew you were just one call away.”

At this, you turn to admire your boy, and he smiles. He looks tired, his red silk tie doing nothing for the beginnings of eyebags pulling at his face, but he’s still the boy you raised and love as your own. “It’s good to see you, Tony.”

“Thanks, auntie.” Your body melts at the name, a name he hasn’t called you since he was twenty-one and you two were standing at his parents’ tombstones while he sobbed into your shoulder, and you wrap your arms around him desperately. He sinks into your embrace and your eyes close as you stroke his hair. “I don’t know what to do.” About the Accords, about Steve, about Lagos. I read your emails, Tony. Every single one.

It’d been a weekly trip to the quinjet parked outside of Bucharest, just a little hike with Bucky to reconnect and refresh themselves. You were supposed to go tomorrow.

“You’ll do what’s right,” you murmur. You know it because that is what Tony has done since he’s been a little boy. “You can try, and try, and try, but sometimes, people won’t change, or they’ll do something you didn’t expect, and it won’t be your fault.”

“Ma’am, we need to take you to your cell.”

Pulling apart, you run a thumb down Tony’s cheek like you did when he was younger, and he smiles. He’s still got that little boy’s smile, but it fades quicker when he realizes what the task force member said to you.

“Cell. Right.”

“H.Y.D.R.A. still tampered with me, too,” you mutter, inspecting his hair. “They want me for a psych eval, priority number two after Bucky.” You spot a few grey hairs at his roots, and you frown. “You need to get some sleep.”

“Pepper and I are on a break,” he says with a shrug. “Still getting used to the empty bed.” Clicking your tongue, you sigh and pull him into another tight hug quickly. “I’ll see you in a bit. I need to sort this out.”

“I know you will.” You draw away and walk after the soldier down the same path Bucky was taken. You look back to see your boy still looking, and you smile. Everything’s going to be fine.

Tony will figure this out, you tell yourself. We’ll figure everything out together.

“What’s your favourite colour?” a guard asks you in heavily accented English, and you smile. You’ve been staring at your handcuffs ever since they put them on you.

“Blue,” you tell him in German. “And you?”

“Purple. It is my wife’s favourite colour,” he explains and your smile softens at the sentiment.

“Blue is the colour of his eyes,” you reply and he ducks his head, trying to hide his smile. You sit at the table, tapping your fingers against the metal, and he stands at the doorway, rifle held in hand, but you’re not afraid.

“You love him, yes?”

“For decades, now.”

“I am a big fan. My father told stories about the Howling Commandos, ma’am.”

“I’m flattered.”

We’ll figure it out.

The lights switch off and the room plunges into black before the emergency lights turn on. Everything around you is illuminated with red or bathed in blue shadows as you look up.

“What was that?”

“We will stay here. I’m sure it is nothing,” he says, and you nod. Something bites at your stomach and you look down at your chained ankles before glancing at the security camera in the corner of the room. “He does have beautiful eyes,” the soldier offers as a comfort and you chuckle. “My children have blue eyes.”

“You have children?” you ask with a wonderous grin. The idea of children has always been so far out of your mind that just the thought sends your mind into a flurry of possibilities. “How many?”

“Twins, a boy and a girl. They are three years old.” He’s extremely proud of it and you tilt your head up at him, your smile growing. “Albert and Ada.”

“That’s adorable. How long—” Your question is cut off by a violent scream, and your head jerks to the wall, the wall that separates you from Bucky. “What the hell was that?”

“Ma’am—” You stand up and he looks tentative to raise a gun towards you, but you’re too terrified to do anything else.

“That is not the sound of a man going through a psych eval.” The memories of the last time you confronted the Winter Soldier blazing through your mind, you shuffle around the table.

“Ma’am, sit down, or I will be forced to shoot.”

“Take these cuffs off of me, now.” You raise the silver chains to him, and he gazes at you apprehensively. You know, with enough effort, you could probably tear your wrists out, but you don’t want to hurt this man. “If what I think is happening is happening, you are not safe. The most dangerous man in history is just through that wall. You’re not going to be able to stop him.” When the man still hesitates, you let out a frustrated growl that’s punctured by another desperate scream. “Think of your wife, your children, and leave.”

You lift your cuffed hands again and you meet his gaze, dark brown almost black in the red lights. His mustache twitches before he lifts up the key. The mechanical cuffs click and release, a hiss of air escaping and you let out a relieved breath, tossing them aside while the soldier ducks to unlock the ones around your ankles.

As soon as the manacles unlock, you’re stepping out of them, your legs unusually heavy. You feel as if you’re swimming through molasses, flinging open the door and running to the room next to yours.

“Bucky!”

The pounding against glass, like a drumbeat, shatters your skull and you rush into the room, spotting a man holding a red book slowly pacing around the glass cage. Bucky’s fist is slamming against the glass, his head hanging low as he lets out a low groan of pain. At your entry, the man looks up and frowns, as if you are a mere nuisance, and your blood chills at the sight of that book in his hands. Red leather and a printed black star. H.Y.D.R.A.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” you breathe, carefully approaching the man and he flips pages in the red book, eyes not straying from yours.

“Oh, I understand completely the consequences of my actions, and they are intended to rip them apart.” His finger settles on a line on the page and you watch him warily. Bucky leans against the cell door, and you edge towards him slowly. If you can just put yourself between the two and get him out—

“Angel, go,” he croaks breathlessly. You do not listen. “No, you have to. There are words—“

“Step away from the patient, Doctor,” the man says softly, arrogantly. “I do not wish to harm you.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I do.” His eyes flicker to the page. “Angel of death,” he enunciates slowly in Russian, and you’re rooted to the spot as his eyes finally lift off the page. “An apt name for what you could’ve become.”

“Stop.” You ache to forget. You almost do sometimes, and sometimes, it is all you know. “That’s not who I am.”

“Ah, so you do know.”

“Get out of here. Please, go—”

“Unfortunately, I cannot have what I want unless she is out of my way.” You’ve almost reached Bucky’s cell, and your fingers stretch for the handle. The doctor doesn’t stop you, merely looks at you as if committing your image to memory, but not in a fond way. In a way for science: you’re nothing more than a test subject, a data point. Bile crawls up your throat at the thought. “Malady.”

Your brain short circuits. The smell of burning skin sinks into your sinuses and the agony that speared itself into your temples as they shocked your past out of you returns tenfold yet quaintly numb. Something inside your head unwinds, your feral rage you’ve locked away growling in anticipation.

“Three.”

Your whole body is sluggish as you try to work against the voices in your head to give in to the temptation. Pushing yourself against Bucky’s cell, you slam your fist into the glass. It cracks underneath your knuckles.

“Stop!”

“Brimstone.”

The smell of sulphur, the grime beneath your nails. You can taste the still water they shoved towards you, the vomit burning the back of your throat. Voice hoarse, skin slick with oil and sweat. Hell on earth. Your next punch comes weaker, and your knees begin to tremble as the voice in your head grows louder.

The feral rage pokes its head from the shadows, licks its bloody muzzle. It’s starving.

“Longing.”

It slams itself against the metal cages of your mind. Closing your eyes, you collapse against the glass and sink to the floor. You try to ignore his voice, the firm order to his accented German, but the words still sink into your head as if these are welcomed.

“Eternity.”

A hollowness, the weight of your heart wilting in your chest, the unending agony of searching for someone you don’t even know exists, causes you to let out a soft moan. It aches to feel it all at once, to plunge into a darkness you’ve clawed your way out of, and you want to scream, release the knot in your chest. You feel like you can’t breathe—

“Stop!” Bucky’s voice, terribly hoarse as he shouts through the glass sounds so far away and you raise your head to the wretched light. A breath pries its way out of your throat. “No!”

“Nightfall.”

A terrified scream wrenches its way through your throat and you claw at your wrists, eyes unseeing. There are cuffs—Zola is chaining you to the table because you’re thrashing too much. Lurching, you scream for Bucky, your mind unravelling as everything surges back to you. You are in that Austrian prison again, shivering against a bony body. The clamp of the machine against your head digs into your skull and you reach up to your hair. Electricity runs underneath your skin.

Fistfuls of hair bunch between your fingers as you tug, your stomach turning at the rawness of the injections running through your veins. The blood curdles in your head and you pitch forward, head pressing against the concrete floor. You slip away, your vision spattered with stars. The cage creaks under the force of your rage, still chained back but just barely. The metal is rusted, and as the man speaks, you hear it purr in satisfaction. These words are gifts to the animal inside, a fuel to its fire, and the voice sneers, obey, obey, obey.

Repeat after me, soldat.

Ready to comply.

Again.

Ready to comply.

Again.

Я готов отвечить

You wake up in a prison cell, your body aching and your throat raw, and you feel like you’ve been charged by a hundred rhinos as your neck sets itself on fire in pain. Trying to narrow your eyes on the side of your neck, you crane your head to spot the giant, blooming purple mark on your throat.

Your skin is red, split with dried blood and bruised. Your lips tremble as you work through each muscle and you let out a soft hiss as you look up at the metal wall. Your reflection is haunting, warped beyond compare.

The blue jumpsuit hangs off your frame, your arms locked together with maximum security handcuffs that are just little more than holes in a big block of titanium. You stand up uneasily, your arms dropping heavily, and approach the bars.

You’re in a circular shaped room, cells just like yours in the wall. Within five of them are Avengers you’ve read or know, and you search for Bucky as one of the guys notices you’re awake. Clint is leaning against the glass, staring at you with a deadly focus from across the room.

“Hey, Doc.”

You don’t respond. Your throat is raw, and it tastes like metal as you send him a nod before continuing your survey of the surroundings. You lean forward, eyes scanning the other empty cells and you notice with a heart wrenching lurch that there are at least two cells between you and the next inmate.

What have I done?

There’s a single door, cameras at every angle. The only other female in the room, a girl, sits in the corner of her cell with her arms strapped to her as she stares up at the camera. The Scarlet Witch.

You turn away, sliding down to the floor with a sigh. Your head is pounding. Closing your eyes, you try to soothe your raging thoughts as you lean against the wall, but your back protests when you move too sharply.

You hear the gears in the doors turn before it opens, and you open your eyes again to see Tony stride in. A wave of shame washes over you once you catch sight of a bruise blooming on his eye and his arm in a sling. It’s searing cold as he stops in the middle of the room, soaking it all in as you are still trying to do. Did I… do that?

“The Futurist, gentlemen!” Clint’s loud clapping pierces your eardrums and you squeeze your eyes tight, twisting away from the center of the room. “The Futurist is here! He sees all! He knows what’s best for you whether you like it or not.” The words are dripping with bitter sarcasm and you suppress a growl.

“Shut your mouth, Barton,” you call, your voice grating on your own ears. You tuck your knees to your chest, your titanium cuffed hands in your lap. Your stomach is churning and every shift causes a dull ache. You simply stare into your lap, sore neck arching, and wonder if he’s safe. Wonder who you’ve hurt—how could this have happened?

His footsteps stop before your cell.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Did I do that?” you ask quietly, unable to even look at him. Tony’s sigh reaches your ears, but you can’t tear yourself away from staring at where you know your fingers are, encased because they’re dangerous—you’re dangerous.

“It was Barnes. Are you okay?”

Turning to Tony, you feel so small under his gaze, so pathetic. You’ve always wanted to be strong for him, but the way your mind feels—decimated, torn to shreds—you can’t help but release a shuddering breath in response.

“Whatever he did, it wasn’t him. Please don’t punish him for it.”

“I won’t,” Tony says, and you look up into his eyes. He has Maria’s eyes. “Look, I got them to transfer you to a psych facility in New York,” he adds, tapping on his watch before expanding on an image. He shows it to you and you lean forward, squinting. On the screen says: I know where Barnes is. “Great faculty and staff. You’ll be transported in ten, fifteen minutes? Happy’s overseeing everything, but it’s good to see you awake.” A swipe and the screen shifts. Ping my location once you get on the chopper. “It should run smoothly.”

“What happened with everyone else?” you murmur under your breath, and Tony sighs.

“Ran into some people at an airport in Leipzig.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” He reaches through the bars but you jerk back, swallowing. Angel of death. “What was that back there? I never knew—”

“I didn’t know either. I suspected it, but they wiped memories, tortured us in so many ways, I guess I thought it was a nightmare.” Your eyes flutter shut at the agony that had splintered you apart, and you press your back against the wall, resting your blocked hands on top of your knees. Something inside you pulses unnaturally. “How many people—”

“Don’t do that to yourself. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I barely got to the sixth word before I lost control, Tony.” Your eyes flash to his and his lips press together as you push yourself up. Ragged and exhausted, your skin is not your own. You’ve slipped someone else’s on—a someone you left behind the minute you found Bucky again. Murderer.

“Probably Dad’s work fucking with the programming,” Tony mumbles before raising his voice again. “Natasha and Sharon Carter worked to take you down before you could do any more damage, but Carter ended up with a bruised face, tailbone, and a few other scratches. A shattered hand and wrist. She caught one of your punches before Natasha got in a good blow. Widow’s Bite to the carotid.” When you don’t reply, your godson touches the bars with gentle fingers. “I’ve got to go, but I promise I’ll see you later.” You nod, and his hand falls away from the bars as he walks away. You watch him go, eyes trained on his back, before sitting down on the bed and passing time by staring at the wall and thinking.

When Happy escorts you out of what you now realize is the Raft, your chest deflates at the chopper waiting for you.

When you lift off and the Raft is nothing more than a speck in the waves, Happy unzips the black bag at your feet to reveal all that you need, and he relays the instructions, keeping his eyes steadily on his datapad as you change out of your blue jumpsuit. Changing into a long sleeve thermal shirt, you pull it snug over your chest before pushing your feet through pants.

“Tony’s heading for Siberia,” Happy begins, and you glance up from where you’re lacing up your boots. They’re sturdy, hard, and you juggle your weight from one ball of the foot to the other, trying to work them in. “We’re dropping you off in Bucharest to pick up that quinjet. F.R.I.D.A.Y. will upload coordinates when you start her up.” Grabbing a bulletproof vest, you slip it over your head and begin to velcro it tight. Your insides are twisted and you fight to keep your expression calm as you crouch down to examine the assault rifle. “Ma’am?” You glance up.

“Yes?”

“Good luck.”

Your smile feels grimmer than death. “Thank you, Happy.”

“Howard… Howard!”

Maria’s voice echoes in your ear, the tape playing over and over again, as you scramble over a small edge of the facility. You’d watched it once before it reran itself, and you couldn’t hold back the bruising in your chest at the vision of your lover beating to death a man you trusted for decades.

Everything around you is collapsed debris, the smell of electricity and smoke plunging into your sinuses. Dust stirs with your every step and you glance around as a force pulls you towards the silo. Ground up cement and grey snow is still falling gently down and you look up to see the hatch closed before a scream tears your attention away.

Beneath the grate, you hear the wind howling, the sound of a repulsor firing. Shouting echoes through the silo. There is a whine of warning, the crunch of metal, and then blast. Your heart leaps into your throat and you glance around to see if there’s a quicker way to get down than merely jumping.

There isn’t.

You take a deep breath and jump to the ledge just opposite, lower than your starting point. The metal trembles beneath your feet and you freeze for a second as it stabilizes, and then jump again. There’s the sick hammering of metal, clunk, clunk, clunk, and you swallow a breath, glancing down at how far down the bottom is.

The clunking fades, and you steel yourself for the sensation of freefalling.

You don’t give a damn about however many feet are between you and the floor, and you jump. Only one thought is on your mind.

Tony. Tony’s in danger. Tony—

Your fingers wrap around the grip of your rifle, your knees bending at the shockwave of pain that rolls up your legs. Rolling onto your side, you feel your battered body nearly give in, your neck protesting violently at the sudden jerk of your head as something lands with a thud. Your mind is a whirlwind of scenarios, of what you’ll find, and you force yourself to continue the roll until you get onto our knees, whipping up the rifle without a second of hesitation.

“Stand down, now.” You don’t recognize your voice—harsh, flat, cold—as it echoes and escapes into the Siberian winds. Steve sits on top of Tony, his shield poised in the air as he stares openly at you in shock. Your godson looks at you in utter relief, his face bruised and gashed, bleeding. Bleeding.

Have you caused this outcome? Is this what you’ve done?

You have felt guilt before—it is something you have learned to live with—but this is different, seeing Tony no more than a little boy in the eyes, an anguish in his gaze that reminds you of the first time he asked you if Howard did love him. The memory alone makes your throat cinch shut.

Your back is screeching at the strain, but you merely aim your weapon steadily at Steve as you slide down the ramp. Your eyes barely lift off of his to the black mass laying still on the ground, and your heart nearly jumps out of your mouth when you see a glint of silver, the sparks of wires.

Eyes narrowed down your sight, you walk slowly until you stand right beside Steve, the gun muzzle pointed right at his temple. Steve’s audible pants rattle in your ear as you kick him off Tony, launching him against a sloped column with a painful gasp.

Crouching, you drop your gun and help Tony stand up. He holds back a groan with a clenched teeth. His arm, around your neck, pushes down to steady himself and you hoist him up as you pull him away from Steve. His armor clanks, his movements slow and dragging, and you inhale sharply as you watch Steve slowly get to his feet.

Wiping at blood that smears his cheek, he picks up the shield and begins to limp to Bucky. Tony lurches forward, and you can taste the anger in your mouth—sour, bitter with grief—as he yells himself hoarse and you barely hold him back as his words ring in your ears.

“That shield doesn’t belong to you. You don’t deserve it. My father made that shield!”

Tony lets out a painful gasp, pitching forward. Your hand presses against his chest, feeling the hum of the arc reactor as you push him back up, and you swallow at the hollow ring of the shield colliding with cement and stone. As Tony stumbles from one foot to another on the spot, you watch Steve pull Bucky up.

“So?” Steve asks quietly, and your eyebrows knit together as he turns to you for a moment. There is no animosity, just a blank look.

“So, what?” It is your turn to be angry. It’s a hot, raging thing that shoves up your esophagus, and your words spit hot. “You expect me to go with you after you tried to kill my family?”

“Bucky’s not going to be safe. We need to find a place for him to hide,” Steve murmurs, and the most incredulous laugh pries its way out of your mouth. You feel Tony’s glare weigh heavily at Steve, still too heartbroken to say any more than what he’s already said, and you glance at him, the image of his bloodied defeat printing itself into your head. “It’s going to be easier if you’re with us.” Bucky raises his head weakly, blood streaming down from his broken nose, and your heart splits at the soft glow of his eyes.

No, he seems to say, even through the pain of losing his arm. Don’t come. Even if it means we have to leave each other again. A sweat is starting to gather at his brow, and he’s still struggling to breathe, and as much as you want to run to him, you don’t. You hold Tony up just as Steve holds Bucky up, and you realize it then that you are a mirror image of Captain America. You will always choose the person who is somehow, and always will be, more important than the other, no matter the personal cost.

No matter the splintering of souls.

Please don’t make me choose.

I could never do that to you.

Your palms are sweating, your eyes trained, and your heart is wild in your throat as you whisper with a fury untamed. “How dare you make me choose between the son I chose and the man I love? How dare you bring this on us?”

“On us,” Steve repeats quietly, almost mockingly if not for the way his eyes seem to fall, if not for the way it all seems to pull him down then. “Yeah, this whole thing’s on us because you didn’t tell Tony either.”

Frigid waves crash down over you, extinguishing your rage as Tony stiffens, and you stare at Steve, shock blocking your ability to speak. Steve’s whole body caves inward, and then he turns away. Bucky’s eyes linger for as long as they can, a silent, loving apology, and you merely soak in his broken gaze before he’s trudging away. Your bones splinter under the weight of a world placed on your shoulders again.

There he walks away from you again, and you must play your waiting game.

Tony doesn’t ask questions until you’re both on the quinjet.

“So you knew?” he asks, his temper a quiet thing. It’s simmering beneath his skin and you grip the controls until your palms sweat. “How long?”

“Two years. I had my doubts since it happened, but he confirmed it two years ago after the spill in Washington.”

“Two years.”

“Tony—”

“So, you chose him anyway. When it mattered, you chose him.” Swiveling the chair, you stand up and look at Tony who you’ve patched up as well as he’d let you. His laceration isn’t stitched yet, but you’ve managed to tape the minor scratches shut, and he’s holding an ice pack to his swollen face. His bashed armor lays on the strategy table, and you glance at the hollow thing for a moment, trying to gather the right words.

“I just wanted to be selfish,” you admit quietly, looking at Tony again. He’s staring at you with wet, dark eyes, and you lower your head in shame. “I wanted to be happy.”

“No matter what it meant for the people around you?” he asks, and his words don’t need to be blunt or sharp for them to be harsh.

“I’m sorry.” You tentatively sit beside him, and you swallow. There is a distance between you and Tony that you don’t know how to cross. “I knew it then, and I know it now, that it was wrong, keeping it a secret from you, but I thought it was his story to tell, and he asked me not to say anything.”

“So, you chose him,” he concludes again, and you nod. You want to touch his shoulder, his knee, some kind of comforting pat but you know he will flinch away based on how coiled up his body is.

“I did, but I choose you now. And I promise I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. Even if you hate me. Even if you never want to see me again. I can’t ever say how sorry I am that I kept this from you, and—” Blood tracks down his temple, a slow, languid trail that drives you crazy. You grab a clean, moist towel from the table and wring it between your hands, small droplets landing between your boots. You glance from the white cloth to Tony, who’s still quiet— “Tony, you’re still bleeding.” His eyes search your face, and you meet his despairingly. You’re hollow, chock full of what ifs.

“Growing up, you were the only person I talked to about everything,” he says quietly, and your eyebrows rise in surprise. His voice is dulled, near to breaking. “Not even J knew some of the stuff I told you. You just understood everything so easily, and I never understood why when I was little. It was when Mom and Dad died did I get why you could pinpoint how confused I felt, how hard it was. Because of him.”

He pauses to look at you, and you nod, your lips pressing together in a sorrowful smile. “Because of him.”

“You know, even when I was little, I used my Christmas and birthday wishes on you.”

“On me?” you repeat, your smile waning and growing again, and he nods earnestly, his lips pressed together in an effort to squish his tentative smile.

“I just wanted you to be happy like Dad used to say you were. Guess that meant the Sarge had to come back, so I asked Santa if I was extra nice, if he could bring people back from the dead. That was before Dad told me Santa wasn’t real, and that I was too old to be believing in those things, but I fell into the habit again after they died. You know, wishing for the dead to come back to life. Guess my wishes got mixed up between Santa and Satan.”

“I taught you that,” you whisper, and his smile, just barely, lights up his face at the memory. “I told you Santa and Satan were brothers and if you were naughty, Satan would come and eat you up.”

“Yeah.” He lowers his ice pack, hand reaching to wipe away the blood but you catch him before he does, offering the rag again. He merely leans forward and you smile, tinged with exhaustion. It was his way as a boy to tell you he wanted your hug, by putting his chin on any part of you and pouting like a puppy with those dark eyes. Except now, he merely closes his eyes and seeks the comfort of his mother.

A comfort you can’t give him, but you’ll damn well try to come close to.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, Tony,” you whisper, gently swiping the blood away from his face. “I never wanted to do that.”

“I know.” Not forgiveness, not yet. “I just want you to be happy, auntie.”

“I know.” You gently rub his forehead before wrapping your other arm around him. His own snake around your waist and you embrace him tightly, eyes closing as he melts into you. “It’s okay.” His shoulders shudder beneath your palms, and you kiss his hair, eyes closing. You press your cheek against his skull. “When you’re ready, I’m gonna stitch you up, okay? Fix you up.” A shaky nod. You run your hand up and down his spine as he raises his head to suck in a lungful of cold air, and with Tony’s head on your shoulder, you wonder where Bucky is now.

You hope it is somewhere where he can rest, even if it means he never sees you again. Is this what you fought for? Killed for? Your peace only to be shattered by something out of your control?

Two years is better than nothing at all, a quiet voice tells you, and as you stitch Tony’s cut, you tell yourself you can be happy knowing he’s safe, but even that, you don’t know.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” your godson asks as you pull the final thread through. He’s been studying you rather intensely for the past fifteen minutes and you don’t answer. Cutting the thread, you clear your throat and put away your supplies, pulling off your gloves.

“I’m just thinking about what we’re going to do when we get home,” you reply lightly.

You can tell Tony doesn’t like your answer by the twitch of his lip but he doesn’t bother to pick a fight and picks up a handheld mirror you left next to him to check out his new stitches.

“A lot of cleanup with Ross,” he says, “and you probably don’t want to go to that psych facility.”

“I don’t.”

“Thought so. I can probably negotiate something about that, set you up with a personal psychiatrist. We’ll get you a room at the compound; it’s been a while since you were home.”

Your smile is tentative as you zip up your medicinal bag, and you narrow your eyes at the sunlight that streams through the windows. An outline of a city cast in gold is in the distance as you approach the pilot’s seat once again. You try to fight off the disappointment, the hurt. You always dreamed you’d come back here with Bucky one day.

“I won’t get mad at you for thinking about the man you love, auntie,” Tony whispers when you land at the compound, and you nod to yourself, closing your eyes at the memory of the last time you were in here, flying to Bucharest two years ago. Bucky’s gentle hand on your shoulder as he coaxed you into letting him take over. Tony kisses your cheek and you open your eyes as the ramp lowers, and you get up, shaking yourself of the memory.

Wherever Bucky is, you know one way or another your paths will cross again, whether you search for him or not, and the stirring in your restless soul tells you rather that it will be sooner rather than later.

#fic: amaranthine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x yn #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagine #my writing

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vytelis · 7 months ago

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Two Sure for Today

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papergirllife · 5 years ago

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Chasing The Flames

Chapter 8 : The Pull of The Heartstrings

Jeno opened the door of his dorm to hear all the boys gathered around the living room, hollering like they won the lotto.

" What's with you guys? "

" We're happy for you, hyung. "

" For what, Chenle? "

" You just came back from the photoshoot with Y/N. There should be some progress. " Renjun questioned with curious eyes.

" Not telling. "

" Yah, stop being so secretive to us. "

" I'm respecting Y/N's privacy Haechan, something you would never do for us. "

But Jeno couldn't help but smile at the events that taken place today as he retreated back into his room.

As he finished showered, Renjun came in the room with a smirk on his face.

" You and Jaemin should be grateful to me. I invited Y/N to have a cook off with Chenle and I on Friday night. "

" She agreed to come? "

" Yup. You guys get to spend more time with her as long as the both of you help out for dinner, this is a win-win situation."

" Thanks man. "

" You guys better be serious about Y/N. She's a nice girl. "

" Yes, boss. "

" I'm actually surprised you're so into her. I thought Jaemin was the one that wanted to bring her into the relationship. "

" I was actually jealous of her at first, because of the attention she was receiving from Jaemin. But then after I spent some time with her that day, I realised that she's really a special one. "

" I don't know much about polyamorous relationships, but I'll still support the decisions that the both of you make. "

" Thanks, Renjun. "

Jaemin ordered a pizza for the both of them to share as Jeno got back later than their dinner time.

They were watching a movie on TV, the others being focused on the plot, but Jeno being lost in his thoughts.

" Is something wrong? " Jaemin whispered.

" No. I was just thinking about what happened today. "

Jaemin snuggled up to Jeno, while taking a huge bite into the pizza, making Jeno coo at him.

" Is there something about Y/N's that's bothering you? "

" No. I enjoyed every moment with her. "

" Then why do you look sad? "

" I'm just confused with my own feelings. How can we love each other but still potentially love another person ?"

" Maybe it's because we never dated any girls before. So we crave for one in our life. "

" But we've never shown interest in other girls. Why Y/N? Why did you like Y/N among all female friends and colleagues we know? "

" I don't know. My first impression of her was that she was a diligent assistant of Mr Kang. Then when we started talking to her, I was hooked on by her shy demeanor. Then I realised that she had a great personality, she's friendly and quirky and so easy to be around. She doesn't treat us like idols, she sees us as human beings. Whenever I'm with her, I feel a sense of freedom or escape."

Jeno nodded at what Jaemin said, connecting the way Jaemin described Y/N to recent events.

" After Y/N, we won't be adding new members into the relationship, right? "

This made Jaemin laugh and nearly choke on his piece of pizza.

" Jeno ah, let's just focus on getting one girl at a time. Plus, if Y/N accepts us, I don't think she'll accept another female in the relationship. Just because we're bisexuals, doesn't mean she is. "

" I'm just checking, because I definitely won't have time for three people. "

" Good to know that my Jeno is a loyal man."

" Chenle, how many times have I told you to get that thing out of the way? "

" What do you mean that thing? It's my sole physical entertainment other than video games. "

Jeno was being stressed about Y/ N coming over for dinner.

On the other hand, Jaemin was busy cleaning the kitchen from the mess Jisung had made from his midnight snack.

Jaemin although didn't show his nervousness as Jeno is, still feels the stress of the expectations he wishes to make for Y/N.

Although all the guys think that Y/N's quite smitten with the both of them after hours debate of what they had experienced from both their alone time with Y/N, Jaemin still wants to take things slowly and start off as good friends.

Y/N seems raw towards the feelings that they think she's feeling for them, so Jaemin and Jeno have decided to make only minor advances and let her sort out her feelings, if she does have feelings for them.

' I hope she does. ' Jaemin thoughts to himself.

Jaemin looked towards Jeno's direction and saw that Jeno's disassembling Chenle's indoor basketball court, dumping it back into its box.

After finishing up with the kitchen, Jaemin checks the fridge a second time to make sure that they had stocked up on groceries for tonight.

Jaemin was about to clear away the take out on the dining table when Renjun stopped him.

" I'll do it. Go take a shower and get dressed."

" Thanks. "

When Jaemin got out of the bath, Renjun pushed Jeno to wash up.

" Shouldn't I shower after cooking dinner? "

" You have to smell and look clean for

Y/N, you can just take another one layer in the night. "

" Any clothing advice, Injunie? "

" She thinks you look cute in pink. "

" You're the best. I can kiss you right now. "

" Save that for Jeno and Y/N, or I'll kick your butt. "

" How do you get so much information out of her? "

" Because we text often. "

" Oh. "

" Why? Are you jealous? "

" I'm just surprised. "

" She's from my home country, she says I remind her of home. "

" That's nice of you. "

" She doesn't have many friends, she reminded me of the time when I first got here. "

" I'll go check the whole place again. "

" Don't be so nervous. "

" I'll try. "

When I got there, Jaemin was waiting for me outside the dorms.

" You didn't have to wait outside for me, it's cold, you would've gotten sick if I wasn't early. "

" I know you're punctual. Plus, it'll be embarrassing if you went to the 127 and WayV's blocks. "

" God, I can't imagine. "

" Why did you bring groceries? "

" Just in case you guys don't have any. "

" Of course we do, we just bought today. I'll help you take those. "

When Jaemin grabs the bags from my hands, I could feel electric shocks up my fingertips, making my cheeks warm in the cold air.

" Thank you. "

When Jaemin opened the door, the first one to greet you was Donghyuck.

" Long time no see, Y/N. Hope you didn't miss me too much, 127 needs me. "

" There's not a day that goes by I don't hear bullshit coming from his mouth. "

" I thought you'd be used to it by now. "

" Yeah, but I thought he would've behaved more with guest around. "

" What are you saying? Y/N isn't a guest, she's like family. Right Y/N? "

" Whatever you say, Hyuck. It's good to see you. "

" Nice place you guys got here, I like the kitchen too. It's bigger than the one I have. "

" You can always move in, Y/N. "

" Yeah right, Lee Soo Man would be on my ass. "

" Chenle! You look so cute with those cat ears. "

" Don't mind them, I lost a bet to Jisung. Come check out this gun I won in pubg."

Jeno walked out of his room when he heard the commotion going on outside, beckoning Renjun to follow.

" Y/N, you're here. Then let's get this started."

We gathered at the kitchen to get ready for the mini cook off.

" Okay, who wants to be in my team? " Renjun looked at everyone expectantly, but had a shock when he realised no one wanted to be on his team.

" I'm picking Chenle and Hyuck. Y/N, you can take Jeno and Jaemin. "

" Hyung, that's not fair. Both your teammates cook often. But Jeno doesn't cook at all, Y/N noona's team is having the losing end. "

" Jisung you are the judge, so go to your room and play games while we cook, no peeking. "

Renjun was giving Jisung the stink eye while everyone of us laughed at their interaction.

" Okay, so what are we cooking? "

" I was planning on cooking sweet and sour pork cutlets and salty egg minced meat steam egg. Sounds good?"

Jeno and Jaemin nodded enthusiastically, hurrying to gather the ingredients as I listed them down.

" Wait, what's salted egg? I don't think we have that in the fridge. "

" Don't worry, Jeno. I bought them at the wet market today, it's in the bag. "

" Got it. "

I made the batter for the cutlets as they break the eggs into a bowl with the minced meat.

" Jaemin, stir this batter. I'll handle the egg. "

I broke two salted eggs and cut the pieces of the yolk into tinier pieces and put them into the bowl of egg, stirring it to space out the ingredients.

When it was ready, I began to steam the egg at the stove.

" Remember Y/N. One stove per team. "

Renjun was looking at me with a smug look on his face as he oversees the two of his friends cooking.

" I see you're making Korean food. "

" And you're making Chinese food. What a way to win Jisung's stomach, but I'm confident he'll love my cooking, he always did. "

" That's because he never ate my cooking before. "

" Oh it's on Y/N. "

The both both of us went back to our respective sides.

Cooking with Jaemin and Jeno was fun, the way Jaemin laughed at Jeno for trying to get the pork to stick to the batter.

I stepped away from my teammates to take a photo of both of them frying the cutlets.

' They suite the domestic theme that's going on here. '

Wait, what am I thinking? God, I need to focus on making the sauce or I'll lose to Renjun.

When we were done, Renjun was arguing about something with Hyuck. While Chenle was coping on cooking alone.

It was one of the funniest sights ever.

Jaemin, being the observant person he was, realised that we haven't cooked the rice.

" Need help? "

" It's just rice, I can handle myself. Go rest on the sofa with Jeno, be with you guys in a bit. "

When I got to the sofa, Jeno had took off his apron to reveal a tight fitting white t shirt.

His muscular built was evident under the thin layer of cotton, I never realised Jeno had such a good built, it was truly a sight to behold.

" I really like your new glasses. "

I had to bring up a topic to distract from Jeno, he's Jaemin's boyfriend for fuck's sake.

" Thanks. You look nice too. "

" It's just a sweater, nothing nice about it to me. "

" The mint colour, it matches well with your hair colour. "

" Thank you. "

I looked away from his gaze, scared that my cheeks were as red as I feared.

" Y/N? "

I looked back at Jeno to see that he was holding a box of chocolates.

" This is for you. As a thank you for cooking dinner. "

" Thank you, I didn't know I'll be receiving any gifts from anyone in Korea. Thank you so much. "

Even though it was just a box of chocolates, it made me happy. I don't have any other friends other than my boss, these guys mean so much to me.

" I'm glad you liked it. "

Jeno placed his hand on my knee as a friendly gesture, but my body acted as if it was the best feeling ever.

The warmth coming from his palm was addicting.

My thoughts were interrupted when Renjun announced that dinner was ready and hollered Jisung out from his room.

We ate dinner with a carefree chatter. I asked Donghyuck about him and Mark balancing the upcoming promotions and them expressing their excitement in working with me again.

" So Jisung, what do you think are the best dishes here? "

" The dishes that I've never ate before today. "

" Have kids they said, they'll be lovely they said. "

" Oh come on, hyung. Don't be too sad about losing to Y/N, Jisung always liked new things. "

" Let me introduce you to some thangs. "

Jeno shut Chenle up with a slice of beef within the second he finished the verse of 127's new song.

" Sorry, he's always been like that. " Jeno said with apologetic eyes.

" Don't worry, Hyuck told me everything about Chenle's crush on Taeyong. "

" Everyone has a crush on Taeyong hyung, ask Jisung. "

" The both of you are weird, case closed."

After dinner, we decided to watch a movie.

Hyuck and Chenle settled on some horror movie called Polaroid.

All of us were wedged on the sofa except for Chenle and Jisung who settled for sitting on the carpeted floor.

I was happily munching on my oreos when a sudden jump scare caught me off guard.

I basically jumped into Jaemin's lap when it happened.

" Sorry, I didn't mean to do that. "

" It's okay. It's called horror for a reason. "

He put his arm around my shoulders.

" There's nothing to be scared of with me around. "

Even though he meant that to be flirty, it still warmed my heart.

From then on, my attention was no longer fully on the movie in front of me. I started noticing little details of Jaemin tonight.

The way his pink sweater matches so well with his fair skin and the feeling of his broad shoulders whenever I leaned onto them.

The scent of Jaemin's cotton fragrance reminded me of waking up on my comfy bed, everything about Jaemin tonight makes my heart soft.

I barely noticed that the movie ended as Renjun announced that we were going to watch a drama that he wanted to watch for a long time.

I always got sleepy during dramas as they just aren't my genre of movies, and this time was no exception.

The only difference from this time and all the other times was the warmth and support I had beside me as I dozed off to slumber.

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