#dynamic » i met him when the sun was down ; the bar was closed ; we both have had no sleep (luna and david / ft. neonprayers)

[heartsunholy]

Luna D’Angelo tag drop

[bitchassbucky]

.raw

Word count: 1.3k

Warning/s: this chapter is pretty tame ngl. very toxic relationship dynamics, bit spicy, references to sex, dark!bucky x dark! reader, obsessive/manipulative tendencies, cyber and irl stalking (usage of tracking device), food and eating were mentioned several times

A/N: thank you @unsaltedalmonds for the idea of IT!Bucky wearing this shirt lmfao

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

The lunch rush is starting to pick up when you came into the restaurant Bucky had told you. The chitter-chatter of the patrons along with the live acoustic band drones on as you sit by the bar waiting for him.

It’s nice. The mood is casual and the atmosphere is light. Maybe if the al-fresco dining area isn’t too crowded, you’d pick a sunny spot.

Catching your reflection on a glassy surface, you fix your appearance, hoping that it isn’t too much or too little.

“You look great, don’t worry.” A voice behind you perks up and you turn—Bucky.

A genuine smile finds itself on your lips, “thanks, Bucky. How long have you been here?” You let your eyes gaze upon his form. Black bomber jacket, zipped up all the way, tight skinny jeans, and scruffy boots. He swapped his dress shirt with something casual and it’s somehow driving you nuts already.

He gestures backward to a free table a few feet away, “long enough to get a seat for us.”

Bucky then sees your eyes flick outside by the restaurant’s patio, “unless you wanna go al-fresco?”

“Oh my gosh,” you almost even give yourself an eye roll for that, “no—no, it’s okay. We can stay here.”

“C’mon, it’s okay. I’m sure someone would be willing to switch with us.”

Before you could protest further, Bucky already flagged down the hostess. Giving his best smile and a minuscule head tilt, he speaks, “Do you think we could get a seat out there? I think fresh air would do us good.”

Like any other woman—hell, even men—wouldn’t be able to resist Bucky and his charm, “yeah! Of course, anything for you and your girlfriend.” The hostess looks at you and beams, prompting you to smile back.

Do you even try to dismiss that claim when you caught how Bucky reacted?

—

Peals of laughter slip past your lips as Bucky unzips his jacket, revealing a tasteful shirt underneath, “Bucky, oh my god!”

He throws an apologetic look around as you keep laughing, your hands hitting the table repeatedly.

“Can you keep it down?” Even he was chuckling a bunch, “in my defense, I need to do my laundry.”

You calmed yourself down only to laugh again, happy tears springing to the sides of your eyes.

Bucky wants to relive this is forever. Making you laugh and cry from laughing too much.

Is this what love feels like?

Your presence to him is like ecstasy.

He never wants to leave your light.

Everything about you is addicting.

And the way you didn’t even try to dismiss when the hostess called you his girlfriend—you want him as much as he wants you.

—

Lunch turned into afternoon snacks and snacks turned to dinner.

You and Bucky almost went and turned every food place upside down, the waistbands of your pants getting snug as the sun sets by the avenue.

“I’m so full, oh my god.” You jokingly rubbed your tummy, sipping boba as you walked side by side.

“Says the person drinking boba tea?” Bucky smirks, his hair fashioned into a low bun, showing off his side profile, much to the delight of people passing by.

He’s a walking Greek statue and you’re with him.

Bucky makes you feel loved. Enough. Seen. Validated.

Is this what love feels like?

You in his presence feel like a warm hug.

Bucky changed you forever.

A rather rushing pedestrian knocked shoulders with Bucky, causing him to stumble back and you to hold him steady, “you good?”

He seemed pissed, the crease between his eyebrows prominent, “yeah. Sorry, I’m okay.”

And then there it was: the tug of something unknown yet strangely familiar. The sound of the traffic ceases as you and Bucky both gaze upon each other’s eyes, only drifting to the other’s lips.

The moment has never been this perfect. Fuck all your romantic comedies starring Kate Hudson, this is your story now.

“Can I kiss you?” Bucky asks tenderly. His hand brushing your hair away from your face.

“Yes.”

Without a moment’s notice, your lips met.

—

Hand in hand, you walked the streets feeling like you’re on the clouds. Sweet smiles, bashful giggles. Normally, you would protest against stealing kisses but not when it’s him.

“This is my place,” Bucky says, pointing towards a mid-rise apartment complex. The neighborhood wasn’t new to you; you often find yourself walking these very streets early in the mornings.

You haven’t had the moment to appreciate his art pieces when Bucky suddenly pinned you against the door, shutting it roughly as soon as you stepped into his apartment threshold.

His lips finding yours, nibbling. The kiss was anything but sweet—all teeth and tongues.

“You have no idea how much I’ve waited to do that.”

“Like a month?” You quipped, tugging the collar of his tee. Your arms draping past his shoulders as his hands rest on your hips.

“Yeah, sure, let’s say a month.”

Having you in his studio apartment was meant to be. You in his space was written in the stars. He can almost see you waking up on his bed with him cooking you breakfast. Making you a cup of coffee now that he knows how you like it: with cream and two sugars.

You took a seat on his large office chair and a vision of you riding him suddenly floods his brain. Hey, now’s not the time.

Him shaking his head into resetting sent the wrong message, “oh. I can’t sit there, or…?” You pull yourself up, metaphorically hitting yourself in the head for making such a presumption.

Maybe he’s that kind of person who doesn’t like someone all up in their space. Then why would he take you here?

“No, no, it’s fine. I just—don’t you think it’s a bit late?” Bucky forces a smile, rubbing his palm across his nape. The warm feeling was suddenly pulled out of him. Now he’s just standing in his house with an acquaintance.

You suddenly felt small, minuscule, and very, very stupid. “Oh. Yeah, uh, I should probably get going.”

“What about a drink?” Bucky’s internally panicking now, he didn’t mean to insinuate the intent of leaving.

You shook your head, straightening your posture as you gathered your thoughts. “I can call a ride, it’s no worries. Got tons of stuff to do anyway.”

“I’m sorry.” Is all Bucky said. He wasn’t really sure why he’s apologizing or what it is for.

—

The door clicked closed and Bucky bolts to his workspace, closing down the applications that will implicate him.

He closes all applications but one, a tracking dot. He installed one on your work phone just in case you needed his help and can’t reach out. You’d never know who’s a sick fuck in these days.

Bucky shoots you a text but instead, he got a phone call.

Hey.

Hey.

The sound of the road was muffled on your end, but nonetheless, the car was moving in the right direction.

I’m so sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to...intrude. I just—I really like you, Bucky. I’m sorry I was too forward.

I… Bucky tries to play with time as he chooses his next words carefully, I like you too but I think we’re going too fast.

Your end was quiet, save from the ambient noises.

I guess so. Let’s keep things professional and friendly first, okay?

Okay.

I gotta go, I’m at my place.

The line went dead without as much as a goodbye.

Liar. Why would you lie to him? You have at least fifteen minutes more to go.

Why would you lie to him? Didn't you just say that you liked him? The way you said it was so casual—like it didn’t bother you that you were lying to him. Raised like a liar, die like a thief.

[behindyourbarrette]

like you a latte - matcha latte

← previous | series masterlist | join my taglist | next part ->

pairing: spencer reid x fem reader

a/n: SURPRISE i felt like dropping this a DAY early!!lololololol but here it is! i appreciate the love on the last two parts so so soooo much :) can’t beliEVE WE ARE HALFWAY DONE!! reblog if u enjoyed

—

Needless to say, Twilight Time isn’t very crowded on Thursday afternoons. 

You rarely pick up closing shifts anymore—for reasons totally unrelated to the doctor who almost exclusively arrives in the morning—but you’re covering for Sally, and it’s a nice day out. The rain has let up in favor of mild weather, the sun just barely peeking through the clouds as people drift past the shop. Despite the fact that there’s more foot traffic on the street, not many people come in to order. You don’t blame them. Why have hot coffee on a day like this?

Your back is turned when you hear a group enter, and your heart soars at the prospect of tips. For whatever reason, most people are more inclined to tip when they know their friends are watching. You call out to let them know you’ll be right with them, and after you’re done fidgeting with the settings of the coffee grinder, you turn. 

It’s Spencer. But he’s not alone.

There are a total of four people before you, each intimidating you in slightly different ways. They’re all agents, as evidenced by their not-so-concealed carries. You recognize a few of the characters. Spencer’s told you about JJ, who you assume to be the friendly blonde, and Penelope, who is a vision in fuchsia. That leaves Emily, who’s whispering to JJ, eyes fixed on you. You try to absorb the sight, them together. Spencer looks at ease, a wide smile on his face as he looks between you and the group.

“Hey, Spencer. These your coworkers?” You crack a nervous smile, knitting your fingers together. He nods, introducing them each in turn. JJ grins in your direction, and Penelope waves at you with a fingerlessly-gloved hand. Emily reaches across the bar to shake your hand. You get the sense that there’s something Spencer hasn’t told you.

“What can I get you guys?”

Spencer shrugs, defaulting to JJ and Emily. Penelope pipes up, eyes bright as she peers at the menu above you.

“Do you have matcha, sweetheart? I’ve been meaning to try that. It’s great for your skin.” You nod, pulling a cup out and inscribing Penelope’s name on it. JJ and Emily both order americanos, exchanging a sheepish grin. After setting their cups aside, you turn to Spencer.

“Genius, you should really try the matcha. It’ll give you brain power. Not that you need any more.” Penelope does jazz hands to emphasize her excitement, and Spencer shrugs. You watch them interact for a moment before you realize he’s turned to you for your approval.

“Oh. I really like matcha. It’s green tea, and a matcha latte tastes light and sweet. I think you’d like it.” He nods, and orders it hot. Penelope orders iced; you smile as you consider that they compliment each other, eventually turning away to prepare everyone’s drinks. They’re all relatively simple, and you manage to include latte art in the hot drinks. Spencer’s is last, and you flick your wrist to finish the design. Crossing the bar, you hand each agent their drink in turn. 

Penelope sips at her drink first, the bright green matching one of her rings perfectly. Spencer eyes his dubiously, poking at it with a wooden stirring stick. 

“It’s very green.” He whispers to Penelope, who cackles in response. 

JJ catches your eye as you watch, lingering between the bar and their seats. With a smile, she waves you over. 

“You’ve totally ruined other coffee for Spence. We had to come try it for ourselves.” She whispers, leaning down. You aren’t sure how to feel about her tone; there’s a glint of something in her eye, something playfully secretive. You’re not sure what part of this you’re not in on.The idea of Spencer mentioning you at all is foreign—sure, you’ve told your roommates, and your coworkers found out that you do, in fact, have a favorite regular. Still, you never considered the idea that you bleed into other parts of his life. You steal a glance at him while JJ compliments her americano. He’s sipping at his matcha, a green mustache left behind. 

“You have a magic touch, Y/N. I don’t think I’ve ever had coffee this good in the states.” Emily flashes you a grin as if she can sense your nervousness. You relax a little, asking her about her work abroad instead of getting lost in your head. She strikes you as a diplomat, and a compliment from her feels like something to be savored. Penelope raves to you about the health benefits of matcha, and you immediately feel welcomed by her. If you were to run a study comparing the approachability between pink polka dots and pantsuits, you're sure that polka dots would win.

“Are you an agent, too?” You ask, stirring your own iced coffee with a straw. Eyeing the clock, you’ve decided that this counts as your break. Tyler be damned. Penelope giggles, shaking her head.

“Oh God no. Well, technically. I’m a technical analyst, so I work on the computer and tech end of things.” She explains, and you nod. It makes a lot of sense. While both JJ and Emily exude the energy of most cops—authoritative, with a critical eye—Garcia does’t fit that mold. It’s this that draws you to her.

You learn that JJ has a son named Henry, a surprisingly Southern boyfriend to match, and that Emily has a cat named Sergio. Despite their highbrow titles, you don’t feel out of place. It’s easy to sip at your coffee, the cup cool against your fingertips, and listen.

“Are you in school? Spence mentioned that you majored in literature.” JJ sets her cup down, flexing her fingers against the air. You feel yourself flush now that the attention is on you. The fact that he chose this detail to divulge sticks between your ribs. You haven't told him much about your work—he insisted on reading your thesis, and even reread the source material to better discuss it with you—but apparently, what you have discussed has made an impression.

“Yeah, actually. I’m in my second year of law school.” You admit. Emily nods in approval, reaching out to high five you.

“Damn. With all the assholes you deal with in customer service, you’ll make a great attorney.” You high five her with a small smile on your face, stealing a glance at Spencer. He seems elated, clearly enjoying the dynamic he’s observing.

“Do you want to go into criminal law?”

JJ asks, eyes wide with curiosity. You shake your head ruefully. They take it well, shrugging their shoulders. To their credit, their branch of law enforcement deals with the process prior to prosecution. You shudder at the idea of what happens after they catch the bad guys.

“No, not really. I’m looking at either the entertainment or environmental sector.”

The group murmurs, and the conversation devolves into small talk about law. You look to Spencer for an escape, and he suggests that they take a walk. Once the girls have trickled out of the room, each hugging you goodbye, you’re left alone with Spencer.

“Hey.”

You laugh at the simplicity of his greeting, turning to toss your empty coffee cup into the trash. Spencer flushes a deep shade of red, raking his hands through his hair.

“Your friends aren’t how I expected. Really cool, though. Especially for like, Quantico professionals.” You wipe the counter down, and the reality that you’re on the clock hits you, a little dizzily. Did his coworkers really just want to meet Spencer’s barista? The realization tastes a little bitter, and you bite back any further questioning in favor of looking up at him.

“Yeah. They’re like family.” He looks out the window, hands deep in his pockets. His whole demeanor is stiff, and you resist the urge to reach out and force his shoulders down from his ears.

“Did you like the matcha? I wasn’t sure you would. I used the oat milk you like.” Slowly, he relaxes. With a small smile, he nods.

“It was good. I like most teas, I’m finding. It wasn’t too sweet.” You add matcha to the mental list you keep, of drinks he likes. It’s become your mission to expand it. In the months since he started branching out, you’ve managed to add a few drinks to his core rotation. 

“You know you’re one of my friends too, right?”

This catches you off guard. You pause in the motion of sweeping the floor, carefully raising your eyes to meet his. While nervous, he sounds sincere. When met with your silence, he continues.

“I just wanted you to know.” 

You nod carefully. The implications of this are something you’ll consider later, when you’re alone. He’s only confirming something you’ve already known, but something about it stings. The word crosses your mind briefly, but it sticks. It’s bittersweet.

“I know.” Your voice is low, soft against the din of the coffee shop. Spencer doesn’t look satisfied, opening his mouth to say something then closing it again. He glances between you and the window.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

taglist:

@everyonesfavoritepipecleaner @coldlilheart @idonotexiste @aberrant-annie @onyourfingertips @bakugouswh0r3 @uptowngotmedown @infinite-tides @chaosconcerns @littlewritersinspace​ @okivia @forever-not-gonna-sink​ @insert-gay-here​ @just-another-persona123​ @winniemjf **if tags don’t work, check your visibility settings

[runin-reads]

❛ s o l a r s y s t e m ❜

— hinata harem drabbles and reader insert

SYNOPSIS: my thoughts on various hinata ships, plus my take on what it would be like to marry the sunshine himself.

PAIRINGS: kenhina, kagehina, atsuhina, oihina, hoshihina, tsukkihina, hinata x reader.

A/N: I would add wayyy more ships but I didn’t want this to be too long. I may add a part 2 depending on the feedback I get.

MANGA SPOILERS

☆ﾐ KENHINA

— the only sugar baby and sugar daddy relationship that matters

— shoyou says he likes something off-handedly only for  kenma to buy it in bulk the next day 

— “if you get boring, I’ll stop ;)” that’s it that’s the sunmary. need I say more to describe their dynamic?

— Kenma and him fight a lot to cover the bill, only for Kenma to pay for it secretly on his way to the bathroom 

— honestly just such caring boys to each other. Kenma is so intune with how Shoyou feels and will lay down just about anything to make him feel better. Shoyou brings happiness and energy to Kenya’s life and makes sure that he takes plenty of breaks from the screen, so he can rest. 

— he’s part of the pretty setter squad, what can I say.

☆ﾐ KAGEHINA 

— literal representation of yin-yang. They balance eachother out in the best way and work perfectly together

— volleyball dorks that wanna bring each other to new heights. Constantly noticing improvement (namely Hinata’s) in each other and instantly being filled with joy at the sight of it  

— like seriously. Kageyama was the first to see potential in Hinata, and was willing to put effort into drawing his talent out. Before Kageyama there was no one who would do that shit, and i honestly can’t imagine Hinata without his influence 

—romance aside, their friendship and teamwork is something we all want in life. They’re intune with the others needs and characters, they’re a POWERFOUPLE and everyone acknowledges them as one

☆ﾐ ATSUHINA

— wow, he can jump. That’s it, we wilding now 🤪

— deadass saw him play for one match and decided “ah yes. I want this one” LMAO 

— Atsumu made a promise to toss for him and actually fulfilled that oath 6 years later. King really did THAT. 

— okay but Atsumu casually staking claim over Hinata as HIS wing spiker, really brought out his protective bf side. You can just tell how much pride and trust he has in Hinata as a teammate, enough where he’ll call him HIS wing spiker at any given time.

— I just love the way Hinata encourages Atsumu and his jokes that go over everyone else’s head. 

— “Atsumu-san! I found it funny!” :D

— hinata comes thru when no one else does. We love to see it 

— Atsumu being the stressed mom friend of the jackals and Hinata either adding to the stress, or helping him out.

— hinata being one of the few people that matches Atsumu’s energy for constantly thinking of new moves/techniques for volleyball. Will stay long after practice just to work together and play the sport they love.

☆ﾐ OIHINA 

— DO NOT TELL ME THAT OIKAWA DIDN’T MAKE SEVERAL TRIPS TO RIO TO VISIT HINATA AGAIN. DO N O T.

— oihina spent several days in the honeymoon phase. Going to restaurants, building sandcastles, playing beach volleyball, taking selfies to piss old rivals off. And this is Brazil we’re talking about. They 100% went to bars and danced in the streets, drunk off of the alcohol and the feeling of being close to each other. If this doesn’t scream “forbidden summer romance, I found a piece of home away from home” energy, then idk what does.

— they met as two homesick boys that left the country to pursue their dreams. Both of them were feeling lost and had no idea where to go from there, but then they saw each other and their vigor was restored. I’ll say it again, THEY FOUND A PIECE OF HOME INSIDE EACHOTHER. THEY REMINDED EACHOTHER OF THEIR ULTIMATE GOALS AND THAT VOLLEYBALL IS A SPORT WHERE YOU HAVE FUN.

— oikawa definitely needs reminding that he is enough, that he is skilled and hardworking, and most  importantly to take care of himself. Hinata would definitely be able to provide this support to him. He is a fountain of endless praise and validation, and what makes it better is that it’s all sincere and only based on the truth. 

☆ﾐ TSUKKIHINA

— Tsukki would fucking punch himself before catching feelings for Hinata. Which is what makes this ship even funnier.

— it’s just Tsukki back at it again with his salty inner-monologue to himself and denying his feelings, only for Hinata to waltz right in and change his view of everything 

— the type of couple to be arguing and all up in each others faces, only to be like “holy shit he’s close,” and be reduced to a blushing mess

— when Hinata actually sasses back yall better be behind Tsukki to catch him as he burns. This man will either clap right back or short circuit from the shock alone. 

— he probably develops a hunch from holding hinata's hand all the time and crouching down to give a hug. Mans looking like Quasimodo but it’s okay, he’s in love.

☆ﾐ HOSHIHINA

— not really a fav ship of mine, but I gotta give appreciation where appreciation is due

— they’re so alike yet so different in so many ways 

— I just love how they’ve finally found someone to relate to, someone who knows exactly what it’s like to be underestimated at first, only to completely soar through their expectations in order to reach higher heights 

— they’re a great reference to each other, and they clearly love seeing the other improve and try out different things. They have a deep respect and sense of rivalry, and they most definitely are the dumbest-and-dumbest couple that can’t figure out shit outside of volleyball 

— they compete over the pettiest shit. Will race each other to get into the shower first, or put on their seatbelts. Chaotic energy can be sensed from miles away. Can’t be left alone to do anything without the building collapsing smh.

☆ﾐ HINATA X READER 

— ngl you got the entire volleyball scene jealous 

— like you managed to snag the most versatile and sought after player in the whole of Japan. You really did THAT.

— Shoyou is definitely the type to give you a one-handed hug and a kiss to the forehead every time he has to leave for something 

— will sling an arm around you from behind and ask you about your day. Asks you quick fire questions like, “have you eaten yet?” “Have you drank water?” And is overall a super attentive lover 

— “hey, I’m Shoyou Hinata and this is my spouse!” Cue the blinding grin that’s brighter than the sun 

— Like they do for Hinata, players like Hoshiumi and Ushijima address you by your full name, and you and your husband find it hilarious. 

— “OI HINATA” - kageyama 

— the both of you turn around 

— all chaos ensues

— I feel like Shoyou wouldn’t be the type to flirt with you at first, he’d just be really upfront with it. Will dead ass head straight towards you after practice or something, and say, “hey! Wanna go back to my place after this?” 

— he’d say this with the BRIGHTEST SMILE, and I bet he’d blush a lot too

— he would still blush, even once yall are married and everything 

— everyone cries at your wedding. You don’t know if it’s tears of joy, or they’re all at a loss because they wanted Hinata all to themselves. And honestly? Same.

[lu-undy]

Valentine’s Day 3 - Autobalance

Here it is on AO3 or under the cut, if you prefer!

"You got all your stuff Spy? Taxi's on his way." Engineer asked as he knocked on the door with the knife symbol. 

"Oui, I am coming." The voice with the French accent answered. 

Inside the suite, Spy wasn't alone. He sighed as he picked up his suitcase and his mask before looking up at Sniper. 

"Spook…? You sure you can't stay?" 

"I do not think I can. The Administrator's orders were very clear, you received the same letter as I did. I am to be transferred to the enemy team and you will receive their Spy in exchange."

"Yeah… But why does it have to be like that?" Sniper asked, fumbling with his hat between his fingers. He had meant it as a rhetorical question, to express his distress more than anything else. But Spy answered anyway.

"Because we keep winning against them with baffling ease. It was high time that something was done about that."

"Couldn't she swap other people? You're not alone in this team!" 

Spy took the step that separated him from his lover and put his suitcase down. He splayed a hand on Sniper's chest. Like a reflex, his glove travelled up to Sniper's collar and adjusted it. Ah, Sniper didn't know how to dress up. But that was not why the Frenchman had fallen for him. Non, it was rather for his way of undressing the Frenchman, figuratively and concretely. 

Sniper had an innocence, a naivety almost, that touched Spy more deeply than anything else. He had learnt to ignore the scruffy looks, the almost feral manners and instead, found himself falling for them all. Those features were nothing but a wall hiding a kind of honesty and sensitivity too powerful to be understood by the common mortal. Spy had learnt to see through the campervan, the atrocious mullet, the equally hideous sideburns and the messy stubble on the skin tanned by years under the scorching sun of Australia. He had fallen for them all.

"Mundy." Spy said and Sniper, who had his head lowered, closed his eyes and frowned. "Look at me, please." 

"Can't. It hurts." 

"Please…?" Spy put his gloved hand under Sniper's chin and pulled it up until their eyes met. 

"Mh…" Sniper protested. 

"We will continue to see each other at work. This is not a goodbye." Spy said, trying to comfort him.

"Yeah, when you stab me in the back." Sniper sighed. 

"I will not spare you, mon amour, you know how much I like to scratch that back of yours." Spy wiggled his eyebrows and Sniper eventually managed to smile. 

"C'mere…" The Aussie wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in a tight hug as he buried his head in Spy's shoulder. "I'll miss you, luv'." He inhaled the expensive perfume and the menthol cigarette, the distinctive scent of the man he loved.

"I will miss you too." Of course Spy returned the dear embrace and they remained stuck to each other for a long while. Chest against chest, their breathing synced as their fingers clawed harder on each other. 

"Yo, Spy! Your taxi's comin'!" Scout shouted from the door. 

"Get lost!" Sniper shouted from the inside. 

"You are interrupting a moment, Scout." Spy added. 

"What kind of moment? C'mon, you gotta hurry, man!" 

Spy looked at Sniper and answered:

"The kind of moment you dream of having with Miss Pauling." 

Sniper chuckled.

"Oh guys! Jeez! Disgustin'...!" Scout's voice seemed to be deafened more as he walked away from the door. 

Spy and Sniper chuckled. 

"Right, let me carry this for you." Sniper took the suitcase off of Spy's hand. 

"Thank you, that is very kind of you." 

They headed for the door. 

"Well, gotta help the elderly, eh?" 

"Mundy!" Spy nudged him with his elbow. 

The Aussie chuckled and put his hand on the door knob. 

"Wait." He turned to Spy. "Lu'...?"

"Oui?" Lucien answered with a sweet smile. He was about to put on his mask.

"Can I uh… Can I kiss you, just one last time?" 

Lucien shook his head, his grin growing wider. 

"May I kiss you." He corrected. "And please, I am all yours." 

Mundy let go of the door handle and laced his arm around Lucien's waist, pulling him closer as he pushed his lips against him. Lucien wrapped his arms up around Mundy's neck and pushed himself to the tip of his toes, in his varnished Italian shoes. 

"Gosh, I'll miss your lips." Mundy stayed with his forehead against Lucien. His hand travelled up to his hair. He stroked it gently.

"Only my lips?" Lucien tapped the tip of Mundy's nose with his gloved finger before putting on his mask and passing in front of him to open the door. 

"Nah, definitely not only yer lips…" 

"Mundy-!" Lucien got startled when he felt from behind Mundy's powerful fingers grabbing him where he was quite sensitive. 

"C'mon, luv', let's go."

They exited the suite. Spy said goodbye to his team as the taxi arrived. The enemy Spy exited it and entered the base. He shook hands with his new teammates.

"Spy?"

"Spy." 

Both spies shook hands too. 

"Sniper, do you mind holding on to my suitcase, I will give the new Spy a tour of his suite." Lucien asked. 

"Sure. Don't be too long though, the taxi driver's waitin'."

"But of course." 

Both spies went to the door with the knife symbol and entered. It lasted a few minutes and soon, Lucien exited again. Mundy nodded to the front door and the Frenchman nodded. They exited the base and soon found themselves at the taxi's car.

"Hey, promise you'll go easy on my back?" 

"Only if you spare my head, and my suits."

"Your suits?" Mundy asked, not understanding.

"Your Jarate, Sniper." 

"Ah, yeah… Well, depends."

"On what, may I ask?" 

"If you behave." Mundy answered with a wink and Lucien blushed beyond his ears.

"Stop it."

"Make me." Mundy growled low enough that the taxi driver wouldn't hear and Lucien chuckled.

"I will see you tomorrow, as usual." The Frenchman said. 

"Yeah. Oh, hold on…" Mundy opened the car door for him.

"Oh… Merci." He slipped in the car on the backseat and fastened his seatbelt. 

Mundy tapped the window and Lucien lowered it. 

"Uh, I hope I'll say it right, but uh… je t'aime." 

[I love you.]

The pronunciation was tainted with a heavy English accent, the syllables were butchered and the sounds slaughtered. Lucien chuckled at how distorted it sounded from his Sniper's voice.

"Merci."

[Thank you.]

The driver started the engine and Mundy was left alone in front of the base, in the middle of the orange desert split by a grey line of asphalt. The car looked smaller and smaller as the taxi driver flew like the wind. Eventually, it completely disappeared and Mundy sighed, his shoulders sinking sadly. 

He went back straight to his van and spent the rest of his day off there, like a fox in his den. Time passed slowly, terribly so. It was torture to go through the day without his lover and Mundy found himself imagining what Lucien was doing in the enemy base, wherever it was. Did he start by unpacking his suits? Or did he just collapse on his bed and get sucked in the same daydream as Mundy was? 

Perhaps, he had decided to start by taking a shower, to clear his head, then unpack before organising his new home, getting to know it. Of course, Lucien would do all these things with a cigarette between his lips, carding his salt and pepper hair elegantly from time to time. Ah, his grey front lock would always fall on his forehead and between his eyes. He used to always complain about it, saying that he would cut it shorter. But Mundy would answer that his hair was perfect as it was, and he shouldn't cut it. 

Once, he even jokingly suggested that Lucien should tie it away in a ridiculous, very short ponytail at the front. And the Frenchman answered that he seriously was considering it. Of course it was nothing else but a joke, yet Mundy had taken his words and found a little rubber band. He took it to the Frenchman's suite and it had ended up in a game of cat and mouse where Mundy was chasing his lover to tie his hair. When he finally did catch him, he tied the grey front lock of hair and Lucien looked absolutely ridiculous. That day, he had even kept it for the entire evening and only removed it when he went to bed with Mundy. 

Ah, the nights would be lonely now. No Lucien to lie his head on Mundy's shoulder, no Lucien to stick his ice cold feet on Mundy's calves, just to bully him. And of course, no Lucien to warm Mundy's night and leave him panting and sweating… 

Mundy sighed. Such a shame that it had to end. Well, not exactly. They would still see each other at work. Although now, the dynamics between them completely flipped. They didn't work together but against each other. And it was no problem for both of them. Their professionalism and their age meant that they did not mix their work with what they held in their hearts. 

Still, it would take some time to adjust to the new feeling of sleeping alone. Ha, the irony… Him who had slept alone all his life, with only the view of the star sprinkled sky as a companion, Mundy was now lacking company. He almost came to wonder how he used to live before Lucien brightened his days and nights. The van seemed lifeless, as if something vital was missing. 

"Yo, Snipes, dinner's ready!" Scout banged at the door with his legendary delicateness. 

"Right, comin'." 

Mundy put on his hat and glasses before exiting the van. He went to the kitchen and sat at the table, at his usual place. Opposite him was an empty seat. It used to be Lucien's. 

"Alright, fellows, here comes the soup for tonight." Engie announced as he put the - almost larger than him - pot on the table.

"Oh, man! Soup again?" Scout complained. "Please tell me there are no veggies in it at least?" 

"Sorry, pardner, but it's winter and there's no soup on Earth without any veggies. C'mon, gimme your plate…!"

Scout pulled his plate towards himself. 

"Scout…?" Engie insisted. 

"Nah it's fine, I'll eat somethin' else."

"Chocolate bars and soda ain't a diet, son. C'mon now…!"

"Listen, Private!" Soldier banged his fist on the table and all the plates and cutlery shook. "You will eat your rations or by God I will make you eat the empty plate!" Soldier tried to pry the plate off of Scout's hands.

"What?! No! Get away!"

Sniper sighed. That would definitely be when Lucien would say something witty to calm Scout and make him obey...

"Gentlemen." 

All the mercenaries raised their heads. 

"I do apologise for being late. Unpacking proved to be longer than what I had anticipated at first." The new Spy took a seat on the last free chair, opposite Sniper. 

Spy's entrance was enough of a distraction for Engie to take Scout's plate and serve him. The other plates were passed on, one after the other until all the mercenaries were served and started eating. 

The indistinguishable chatter rose in the room between Demo's hearty laughter, Heavy's stories in cold Siberia and Soldier's war tales. 

Sniper was staring emptily at his plate. The bits of vegetables floated lifelessly, half-drowning in the soup. He pushed them sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right. Like little shipwrecks, they bobbed up and down at the surface of the undisturbed ocean that the soup was. 

Obviously, his colleagues noticed but they knew of his relationship with Spy so they guessed why he felt distraught. Given how much the Aussie liked his privacy, they didn't bother him and eventually, he was left alone at the table. Heavy had been on dishes duty that night and he did not disturb his colleague either. After he was finished, he left the room and closed the door. 

But soon, Sniper heard it open again. It did not register completely as he was too absorbed in a day dream. 

"Yo, Snipes?" 

Scout's voice startled Sniper back to reality. 

"Huh?" 

"Sorry pal, Spy's askin' for ya."

Sniper frowned. No, his Spy wasn't asking for him. It was the other one. 

"What does he want?" He mumbled back. 

"Don't know. He said he needed some help with something and he knew you could do it." 

Sniper sighed and grumbled. He pushed his chair back and pushed himself on his feet heavily. 

"Right, I'll see what I can do for him…" He dragged his feet out of the kitchen and in the corridor. 

"Snipes, your soup?" He heard Scout ask but he ignored him as he now faced the door with the knife symbol, and gave a short knock. 

"Come in, Sniper." 

The Aussie frowned and pushed the door. He found Spy sitting on the armchair that used to be Lucien's. He was giving his back to Sniper.

"You need some help with something, Scout said." 

"Oui, pray close the door."

Sniper obeyed and gulped down hard. The last time his Spy asked him to make sure the door was locked was before they - ugh… It mattered little now. 

"So, what d'you need? If it's to move somethin' big, you can ask Heavy, he'll get it sorted faster than me."

"Non, it is for something different. Please, take a seat." 

"Spy, look, I'm not the small talk kind of guy, ok?" Sniper refused to sit and stood not too far from the door.

"Oh, I know." 

"Yeah, you do, you spend your time stabbing me in the back without sayin' a word." Sniper answered, irritated that his new colleague would make him waste his time. He would much prefer to lock himself up in his van and stay there. 

"I don't believe I have ever stabbed you." 

Sniper's eyebrows jumped and he fluttered his eyes under the audacity of what the snake of a man was saying.

"What?" Confused beyond what words could express, Sniper took a deep breath. "Look, y'know what, I'm not gonna answer. I'm gonna just do whatever you need and leave. Now, out with it."

"Sniper…" Spy chuckled and Sniper felt his blood boil. 

"Listen, either you tell me what you need or I'll just walk out of here, before I start throwing punches at you." 

"You never raised your hand on anyone." Spy answered with such calm… Sniper hated it. "Even when Scout mocks you, or gets on your nerves, you ignore him." 

Sniper raised an eyebrow. 

"What…? Y-you've been watchin' us in this base…?" 

"You never raised your hand or your voice against anyone." Spy went on. "You are way too soft for that." 

"Stop it. Right. Bloody. Now." Sniper was now angry. The familiarity with which the new Spy spoke to him disgusted him. He sounded almost like Lucien but he wasn't him. No, that bastard wasn't him. He wasn't him and how the hell dared he speak like him. 

"Or what? What will you do, hm? Run far away and shoot me in the head? Throw one of your precious jars at me? Pff, come on…!"

"I might start by rearrangin' your ugly mug, pop a few teeth with my fists, see how that goes, eh!" Sniper snapped, furious. 

"You used to find my face very comely. Countless times you have told me so." 

"Right, that's enough." Sniper took confident steps towards the Frenchman. He clenched his fist and threw it but Spy stood up and faced him, blocking his punch in his open palm. He twisted the Aussie's arm and brought him to his knees. 

"Oh you wanker!" 

"Only when you ask nicely."

"What?!" 

Spy removed his mask and his hair gently floated in the air for an instant.

"What the hell?!" 

Mundy felt his foe's grip loosen on his fist and his own knees went to jelly under the surprise.

"Bonsoir, mon amour."  The voice with the lovely smirk said.

[Good evening, my love.]

"What are you doin' here?!" 

Lucien was standing in front of Mundy, a sweet smile on his lips. He helped him back to his feet.

"Am I…? Am I dreamin' or something? Hold on…" Mundy removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "What the hell are you doing here? Why aren't you with the other team?!" 

Lucien chuckled and took his lover's hands to guide him and sit together on the sofa. 

"I never left this base!"

"What?"

"When I took the enemy Spy on a tour of this suite, I had a chat with him. Neither him or I wanted to swap teams. So we agreed to swap our clothes instead. I stay here and he goes back to his base." 

"Holy… Why didn't you say anything earlier, during dinner or something?" Mundy stretched his arm and wrist which hurt.

"Because no one knows about this but you, me, and the enemy Spy. There are cameras in the kitchen, living-room and corridors. I couldn't try anything suspicious there. Here however, we are safe, as you know." 

"Bloody hell…" Mundy shook his head. "But hold on, why did the enemy Spy accept?" 

"I think he has an arrangement with one of his teammates." 

"An arrangement?" Mundy repeated. "What? They're gonna open a lemonade stand on the weekends?" He chuckled. 

"Non, he is in a relationship with his Sniper." 

Mundy's chuckle stopped sharp and his eyebrows jumped. 

"Seriously?" 

"Oui." 

"Crikey, I had no idea…!"

Lucien chuckled. 

"Anythin' else like that that I don't know?" He asked. 

"Oh, plenty of things. But they matter very little. What matters now is that I am still here, with you." Lucien cupped his lover's face with his gloved hands and stroked his cheeks. Mundy relaxed and smiled. 

"So the bloke I escorted to the taxi and stuff wasn't you?" 

"Non, it was him." 

"Oh, right." Mundy stared at his lover with half-lidded eyes. "It really broke me inside when - oh, bugger!" He exclaimed in shock. 

"What?" Lucien asked. 

"Before the taxi drove off…!" 

"What happened?" 

"I told the enemy Spy I loved him! In French!" Mundy exclaimed with round eyes. "Bloody hell!" He smacked a hand on his own mouth and blushed beyond his ears. 

Lucien burst out laughing. 

"Well, I do hope that he didn't say that he loved you back!" 

"Oh… Bugger… Now he's gonna bully me even more at work…" Mundy lowered his head. 

"Non, mon amour…" Lucien hugged him and pulled Mundy's head to rest on his shoulder. "I won't let him bully you, I promise. Besides, I doubt that he will." 

"Hope so." 

"I am sure of it. He is a good man. A less good spy, but a good man." Lucien said. "Now, please, look at me." He cupped Mundy's half ashamed, half distraught face. "You need something to soothe your nerves, mon amour. And to fill your stomach. Come along." Lucien took his hand and led Mundy to the kitchen attached to his suite. "Let us cook something for you." 

"Can we get pizza?" 

"Non, Mundy. Why get pizza when I can cook for you?" 

"Well…"

"Non! My cooking skills are godly, I will not tolerate that you should think otherwise!" Lucien said as he tied an apron around his waist and washed his hands. Mundy followed him left and right.

"I was gonna say it would save you the trouble, but ok…" Mundy chuckled. 

"What trouble? There is no trouble! My lover is hungry. It is my duty to remedy that." Lucien went to his fridge.

"Fair enough. Can I still hug you though?" 

"Oui, you may. But do not disturb me, understood?" Lucien emerged from the fridge and Mundy stuck himself to him, from behind. 

"Can I at least breathe?!" 

"I shall think about it and let you know." Lucien playfully answered as he grabbed a cutting board and a knife. Mundy rested his head on Lucien's shoulder, watching him cut vegetables and some meat. He liked it there, hugging his lover and spending time with him. Lucien would occasionally feed him a bit of carrot, or tomato. 

"Mundy?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Could you say that to me?" Lucien asked and he interrupted his chopping. 

"Say what?"

"That you love me, in French. You never did."

"Yeah, uh... Je t'aime, Lu'." 

Lucien bit his lip and rolled his head back to lean it on Mundy's shoulder. 

"Again…"

"Je t'aime." 

He closed his eyes and smiled. Mundy hugged him tighter and left a kiss on his cheek. 

"Mundy?"

"Yeah?" 

"Your pronunciation is terrible." 

"Oi!"

[daydreamingatnight209]

Hi guys! I did have a post before I this one but I loved it so much I wanted to share it with you! The still used for this one is what I envisioned the last part of this but with later Spencer seasons so just pretend 😅😂.

Feedback is always welcome ✨���

“I will Love You, Forever and Always”

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Warnings- Angst (but with a fluffy ending!) 💕

Prompt- “Maybe I don’t want to be just friends!”

——————————

“I don’t believe they are just friends” Derek ponders as him and Emily walk into the BAU that Monday morning.

“Morgan seriously we have been here before, they are just friends” Emily explains for the 100th time to her friend, but he wasn’t buying it.

“I mean come on, look at them” he huffs, looking straight at your desk.

Truth be told if the people around you didn’t know of the dynamic between yourself and Dr. Spencer Reid it would look like you were indeed more the friends. Currently you were sat upon the top of his desk, swinging your legs laughing at something he was discussing. His hand rested over the top of yours while he used the other to explain his point.

That wasn’t the only scene that was up for debate, over the past years there had been many moments exactly like this one, hence Morgan’s suspicions.

Like how he would give you piggy back rides to your car after a long day. Or like how you two never failed to have lunch together, case or no case.

No one questioned it when you would always find reasons to be in each other’s presence or how you would both end up at one or the others apartment for movie and a take out.

It became standard procedure for you both to be seated on the sofa in the jet, either napping or reading together and how Spencer was always the one to take you home after a night out with the girls.

You had all the makings of a wonderful young couple, and yet.... you weren’t.

This hurt you especially as you were head over heels for your best friend but your past experiences made it extremely difficult for you to act upon these feeling, scarred by multiple rejections from others.

You told yourself that it’s better to have him as a friend, then nothing at all.

It had broken your heart every day since the day you had met him.

You struggled with it but hid it well. Until the this week. It was becoming unbearable. You’d avoided him the weekend that just passed, needing time for yourself yet it felt awfully strange. To avoid suspicions you rode into work with him on that Monday but your pretend persona was breaking and over the week everyone was aware. including Spencer.

He hated the sudden shift in your behaviour and it confused him greatly.

He needed answers and he would confront his anxiety to do so.

It didn’t go as planned, he confronted you and got answers, just not the ones he expected.

You loved him and he missed it.

————————————

You were in tears and at the end of your tether. Spencer had found you and your walls had been broken down.

“Maybe I don’t want to be just friends Spencer!” You cried out.

“I had to watch for years, girls flirting with you in bars, you fall for JJ and you be broken in two with Maeve. It broke me seeing you like that Spencer, I wanted to take away all and any pain and wouldn’t” you take a breath, wiping the tears. It wouldn’t matter, they just kept falling.

Spencer went to speak but you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t.

“I know you love her, I know you have loved, and that’s okay but Spencer I love you and I can’t keep doing this. I’m sorry”

You rush out of the room, ignoring the reactions of those present. Hotch granted you a week of personal time of which you spent lay in bed, attempting to sort through what you were feeling. You didn’t leave your apartment once.

———————————

You resurfaced into society exactly a week later, not by choice but by request. The team was worried about you and Rossi had demanded that you come over. The weather was nice and you although you didn’t want to you needed to get away from staring at the same four walls that held your bedroom together.

You thew on some clothes and tied your hair into a messy bun before setting of to the location your presence was requested. You tried your best to prepare yourself for who you were about to face.

Spencer.

Yes the team would be there also but it was being tasked with seeing Spencer that was creating the nerves. You hadn’t spoken to him since your justified meltdown in the bullpen. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried. At first he had tried calling and texting but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

He would arrive at your apartment for 3 days straight and beg for you to talk to him before he gave up. You sat on the other side of that door, silently crying.

Contact stopped after that.

You arrive at Rossi’s faster then you had liked and had to calm yourself before ringing the doorbell.

You put on a smile and greet everyone. Spencer was nowhere to be found.

You decided to sit by the pool. You wasn’t aware of how long you had been sat there inside your now head, but soon, one by one the team filtered inside and the sun begun to set. You were so focused on the wheels turning aimlessly in your head you didn’t notice Spencer stood beside you, he caught your attention with a small hesitant cough.

You jump and look up in his direction with a faint sad smile forming.

He copies your actions before sliding down next to you.

The tension in the air made no effort to disappear.

It felt like an eternity before either one of you spoke.

“You were wrong you know”

You look to at him with confusion clouding my features.

“Yes, I loved JJ, but not in the way you think. Yes I loved and will always love Maeve but she wouldn’t want me stuck in time, wallowing in grief. She’d want me to move on and be happy”

Your lips tremble. You weren’t ready for this but you knew in reality if you didn’t confront this, you would lose your best friend.

You let him keep talking as you couldn’t even form a sentence.

“I’m happy with you, and I don’t want to be just friends either. In fact right now? I really would like to kiss you. Would you let me do that?

You felt as if time had stopped when you processed what he had said. Shock almost paralysed you but you managed to command your head to nod ever so slightly.

Spencer didn’t waste any time he closed the gap immediately and let his lips catch onto yours. It felt as if the star were aligning and everything was alright in the world.

Too caught up in the moment, you slide in your seat on the water that surround where you were sat and fell into the pool casing Spencer to follow you in.

You laugh, happiness returning as you swim back towards your one and only.

You couldn’t help but stare in his eyes and take in his features. The way his eyes crinkled as his grins and how his eyes tell a story or wonder and pain. The tips of your noses touch and you take a moment to remember. You never wanted this night to end. You kiss him once more, you could feel his passion as his finger tips grip your face ever so gently. He pulls apart once more and says,

“I will love you forever and always, my love”

Tag List - @purple-scarf-mistress

[pastpatientlywaitingforimagines]

Nebula | Spencer Reid x Reader Platonic

WC: 2701

A/N: When I first wrote Galaxy I intended for it to be a oneshot, but I can’t get enough of the dynamic between Spencer and Reader. This is part 3 to Galaxy and Supernova, though you don’t really have to read them to understand what’s going on.

GALAXY MASTERLIST

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR 12x13 (Spencer), mentions of drug use

For the first time since you joined the Bureau, you didn’t want to go. It was selfish, but you didn’t want to go because you didn’t think you could handle seeing him. Nonetheless, you knew if roles were reversed he wouldn’t hesitate to be there for you so you pulled yourself up by your bootstraps and stepped onto the jet anyways.

The rest of the team knew it wasn’t going to be easy for you. It wasn’t easy for them either, but there was a cosmic connection between you and Doctor Spencer Reid that they all knew made this exponentially more difficult for you.

Emily didn’t complain when you stayed impossibly close to her on the jet, eyes cast downward in silence while you listened to them strategize. Rossi kept providing you snacks to eat while on the flight to Mexico, compassionately reminding you that you needed it to keep your strength up whenever there was a lull in conversation. Luke kept careful eyes on your tells, ready to step in if you showed any increased signs of anxiety. He wasn’t as good at noticing them as Spencer was, having worked with you for significantly less time, but the Army veteran had picked up on your lingering military traumas early on in his employment with the team and had been there for you especially when Spencer took time off to care for his mom.

They needed you, and more importantly Spencer needed you, so they were going to do everything they could to keep you in one piece until they could figure out what had happened in Mexico.

Emily took charge when you stepped into the police precinct, commandeering the officers in a way only Emily Prentiss could. You followed Luke to the holding cell, and that’s when you saw him.

Spencer’s eyes slowly met yours and you could immediately tell something was off. Luke started talking to him, and you watched as Spencer struggled to remember your colleague. You were too scared to ask Spencer if he remembered you. Seeing your best friend so out of it terrified you. Spencer Reid was the sharpest person you knew, this dishevelment was uncharacteristic and you felt yourself having a hard time believing the man on the other side of the bars was your favorite doctor.

Luke’s phone ringing pulled you back into the present. You weren’t going to be of any help to anyone, especially Spencer, if you were catatonic. Instead of standing safely on the shore, you had to let yourself get caught in the riptide and pulled into this mess.

“Spencer,” you spoke for the first time since Emily had broke the news to the group of you that morning. You could tell the drugs were making it hard for him to focus, “Spencer, listen to me.”

“(y/n),” he rasped. He remembered you.

“Hey, I trust you,” even in his inebriated state, you both felt the weight of your words.

“(y/n),” he repeated. You knew he understood. When Luke came back he had some revelations from Garcia and the rest of the team back in Quantico. Even though Spencer denied wanting company while the other agents went to check out the motel and the whereabouts of Nadie Ramos, you stayed with him.

You sat on the floor with your back against the wall, watching your best friend carefully. The concrete wasn’t comfortable by any means, but you were not going to let anything else harm the man who was so close yet so far away. You received a lot of strange looks from the passing officers, but you didn’t move. Even when your phone rang, you stayed put.

“JJ,” you answered quietly, watching Spencer’s even breathing as he slept on the bench in the cell.

“How are you holding up?

“I’m… not, but I can deal with it later. Spencer is our priority right now,” you weren’t sure if you were reminding her or yourself.

“How is he?”

“Sleeping for now, hopefully sobering up. This is gut-wrenching. He told me about what happened with Tobias Hankel… I can’t even imagine what it was like for him then. How is Diana?”

“She’s stable, I checked in with her earlier. Cassie’s taking good care of her, you don’t have to worry.”

“Will you keep checking in with her until I get back and let me know if anything changes? Whatever he was doing down here has to do with her, I just need to figure out what it was. I wish he would have told me,” you gritted your teeth.

“That was going to be my next question. You didn’t know about any of this?”

“I knew he was traveling to talk to doctors. He’s been doing it for a few months now, I would spend extra time with Diana while he was gone. I always asked about his trips, nothing he told me ever raised a red flag, though. It was always ‘Met with this doctor, talked about that clinical trial, got this new medication to try.’ I should have known…”

“I’ve been saying the same thing. I don’t know how I missed it, or why he wouldn’t tell us,” you could hear the desperation in her voice.

“We’re going to figure it out. We have to figure it out. We’re getting him out of here,” you told her. You weren’t sure how convinced JJ was at your words but she accepted them anyways, bidding you goodbye when Garcia pulled her into some new information on their end of the case.

“Who was that?” you almost missed the gravely words from Spencer’s mouth when you took the phone away from your ear.

“It was JJ,” you told him.

“Are you going to ask me more questions? I still can’t… can’t remember.” Your heart broke.

“I’m not here to ask you questions, Spence. I’m here to make sure you’re safe.”

“Because you trust me.”

“Because I trust you,” you repeated. He was quiet again until the sun came up, and Emily, Rossi and Luke returned from the motel. Emily pulled you to the side when they showed up, though you wouldn’t let her take you anywhere where you couldn’t have eyes on Spencer.

“That motel room was a mess,” she told you honestly. You had spoken with her on the phone earlier, so you knew most of the finer details.

“It doesn’t look good for him, does it?”

“On the surface, no. The Mexican authorities have everything they need to lock him up, but if we can find something that proves Scratch is framing him we’ll have a better chance.”

You crossed your arms and shifted your weight, mind reeling with possibilities.

When Inspector Casteneda let you into the holding cell shortly after, you planted yourself at Spencer’s side and did not move. Just being in closer proximity to the doctor helped you feel better. Your friendship had never been very touchy-feely, you and Spencer both having reasons that you preferred to limit your physical contact, so the comfort that you found was merely by presence. You always had a clearer head when Spencer was close by, and this was no exception.

You kept your mouth shut while the other agents and Casteneda discussed Spencer’s tox screen and the possibilities of a cognitive interview. When Casteneda pulled out the vials, you watched the first glimpse of memory cross your friend’s face. You tensed, waiting to step in if you needed to.

“Whatever’s in those vials, I was giving it to my mom. That’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

“You can use any of the rooms down the hall,” Casteneda pointed before leaving your little group of agents alone.

“I don’t think a cognitive is a good idea,” you finally spoke, stepping in front of Spencer defensively to stop him from following Emily.

“Why not?” she turned back to you. You were acutely aware of Rossi and Luke watching the exchange.

You glanced over your shoulder at Spencer, who was gazing at you with red-rimmed eyes.

“Your head isn’t clear enough yet.”

“I can still try,” he piped up from behind you. Emily raised her eyebrows, questioning how far you were going to fight this.

“I don’t want him accidentally implicating himself while there are still drugs in his system that could structure false memories.”

“With all the time he’s missing, that might happen anyways. This cognitive could give us some important information, just as much as it might give us false. We don’t have a lot of time, (y/n),” Emily was firm.

From a profiling standpoint, she was right. Any time was precious time, and Spencer had definitely come down enough to form more coherent thoughts. Your role in this case was not that of a profiler, though. It was like you had told Spencer a few hours prior, you were there to make sure he was safe, that whoever did this to him didn’t come back, and that he didn’t go to prison. You trusted that he didn’t commit the crimes he was facing, and you weren’t going to let him being doped up change that.

“I trust you,” Spencer spoke again, blinking slowly. You looked at Emily pointedly, “but I want to do the cognitive.”

“Spencer,” you pleaded. Letting your emotions come into play wouldn’t work with Emily but there was a chance you could get through with them to Spencer. You stared at each other intensely, none of your other colleagues daring to say a word.

Choosing to do a cognitive was something a coherent, clearheaded Spencer would do, you reasoned. As much as you still believed in your gut that he wasn’t ready, you trusted him.

“Let me do the interview,” you tried.

“No,” every agent in the room spoke at the same time, even Spencer. That was how you found yourself sitting on the floor again, this time outside of the room Emily was interviewing Spencer in.

Luke and Rossi came to stand protectively next to you. You knew they were keeping something from you, but you didn’t dare ask what. You were too busy staring down the man guarding the door. Screw international relations, you were ready to start a war with the entire country of Mexico for their wrongful arrest of Spencer.

Luke exchanged a few words in Spanish with the guard, before nudging you with his foot.

“What?”

“Take a breath, (y/n). He just asked me if you bite. If looks could kill you’d have murdered everyone in this precinct already.”

“Even if I did, they’d probably arrest Spencer and blame him for it,” you grumbled. Before either of the men could say anything, Emily stepped out of the interview room. She spoke quickly to the guard, who went inside. You were on your feet as soon as Emily shut the door. Luke grabbed your elbow as Emily told you about the cognitive, though you didn’t understand why until he spoke.

“They just charged Reid with the murder of Nadie Ramos.”

You thought your knees were going to give out. You would have been back on the floor if Luke hadn’t had a firm grip on your arm. Emily spoke some more, but your entire focus was on the door in front of you. Slowly it opened, the guard escorting Spencer back to the holding cell.

“I’m going with him,” you said, tearing your arm away from Luke and pushing past the other agents. Inspector Casteneda tried to stop you from entering the holding cell, but you put your foot down.

“I’ve been around more killers with him than I have with you. If he tries to kill me, so be it, maybe you’ll actually have something to charge him for,” you stepped past the man and plunked down on a bench facing Spencer.

“Is my mom ok?”

“Yeah, JJ’s keeping tabs on her. She’s safe. How’s your head?”

“Getting clearer, I think.”

“Good,” you whispered, settling into silence.

Emily didn’t look fazed when she saw you sitting in the cell with Spencer. She had Matt and Clara with her, and between them and Garcia you were somehow able to establish concurrent jurisdiction over Spencer’s case. Still, you had to watch them handcuff your best friend and start walking him away while Emily was on the phone. Finally she hung up.

“They’re taking it to their brass. Go get him,” she looked at you and Luke. You raced after him, letting Luke do the talking once you caught up to the officers. Saving Spencer from going to a maximum security prison was the highest priority right now, your beef with the Mexican police wouldn’t do you any good in remedying that.

Things moved quickly once Emily had made the proper phone calls, but you didn’t feel yourself start to relax until you were seated safely next to Spencer on the jet couch.

He reached over, taking your hand in his own and moving his fingers up to your wrist, starting to fidget with the bracelet you always wore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” his voice was soft, meant only for you.

“I wish you had, Spence. I really do, but there’s nothing we can do to change that now. We just have to fight until we figure out what’s going on,” you leaned closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help down there.”

“I’m on my way home, aren’t I?”

“No thanks to me. If I had acted how I wanted, we’d both be on our way to El Diablo right now,” you joked half-heartedly.

“You’re the only person I’d want to go to jail with,” he joked back.

“I don’t know, your odds might be better if you picked Prentiss. She got beat up by a cult leader for you, that’s hardcore.”

“She also faked her own death, who’s to say she wouldn’t do it again as an escape plan? You wouldn’t leave me,” while this kind of banter was normal for the two of you, it felt weird discussing theoretical jail when prison was a very real possibility for the man sitting next to you.

“I won’t leave you. Ever. No matter what, you’re stuck with me,” you reminded him.

“Even if I’m in prison for the rest of my life?”

“You’re not going to be in prison for the rest of your life,” you grumbled, “but even if you were, I wouldn’t miss a visiting day. You can’t get rid of me that easily, Spence.”

“I know,” he whispered, “how do you think this is going to end?”

“Best case, we get a tip-top legal team and you’re acquitted before there’s even speculation of you going to prison,” your confidence was evident.

“And worst case?”

“I don’t want to think about that.”

“I want to know, (y/n). I trust you,” he wasn’t going to let you off the hook that easily.

You sighed, “you were framed for everything illegal that happened in Mexico. I have no doubts about that, never had, never will. Worst case, we can’t prove it and you serve a full sentence because of it.”

“You will prove it though.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s us. Honestly, I think it’ll fall somewhere in the middle. Even with the best of the best legal team, there’s still a lot of uncertainty about what happened. It might take time to put all of the pieces together.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” Spencer’s voice dropped even quieter, “everyone else is walking on eggshells around me.”

“To be fair, you were pretty heavily drugged when we first got down there. And the jeans? It was like looking at a stranger, you weren’t yourself.”

“You don’t like the jeans?” you could tell he was teasing to try to lighten the mood.

“I really don’t. The first thing I’m doing when we get back home is finding you some Pretty Boy pants.”

“Of all of the priorities you could have,” he laughed.

“You’re the only you we’ve got, Spencer. Prison, drugs, Mexico, Alzheimer’s, I’m not letting anything take quintessential you away from us, even if it means getting you a new pair of pants.”

GALAXY MASTERLIST

[downwiththeficness]

A Need So Great-Chapter 8.5

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~2,700

Warnings: Smut

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

Eva woke alone. Groggy, she rubbed her eyes and squinted against the morning sun. She rolled to the side and instantly regretted it. The inside of her thighs, the muscles over her ribs all cried out, telling her that she’d overexerted herself. Experimentally, she reached down and pressed four fingers of one hand against her folds, wincing just a bit. She’d definitely overworked it.

Rising, she pulled on a too baggy t-shirt from her dresser and wrapped her hair up into a bun. She could smell coffee and it drew her out to the kitchen. Horacio was sitting at the bar the ran along the back of the sink, sipping from one of her souvenir mugs—Las Vegas Welcomes You!

“You’re one of those people who wakes up early and goes to the gym, aren’t you?” She deadpanned as she crossed the kitchen to make her own cup.

He laughed softly and even though she wasn’t looking at him, she knew he was shaking his head. Coffee made, she turned and circled the bar, sitting on the stool next to him. He hadn’t bothered to pull on more than his boxer briefs, and she took a moment to just look at him. Taking a sip, she reached out to smooth an errant curl. He smiled and took her hand.

For a long while, they were just...there. Sitting, drinking coffee, holding hands. Eva didn’t think that she’d done this, well, ever. With anyone. And, it was so, so nice, this feeling.

Setting his cup down, Horacio placed both hands on her knees, thumbs tracing little circles on the outside, “How are you feeling?”

She knew what he was asking, and she wondered when she’d gained the ability to read his intent so clearly. Eva covered his hands with her own, “I’m sore, but its been a while, so that’s to be expected.”

Though he said nothing, there was doubt in his expression. And then, his eyes narrowed, “You just had an inside thought.”

Eva blinked, startled, “I did.”

He shot her a look that she was coming to understand as, ‘tell me, or I will make you tell me.’ For a very short three seconds or so, she considered diverting his attention in some way. But, something told her to just get it out there. It wasn’t worth it to avoid the conversation, not when it was ruining a perfectly good hand hold.

She ran a hand up his arm, “You’ve had this conversation before, haven’t you?” He didn’t answer, but his eyes did glance to the side and back. She was right. “And, it did not go well.” Not a word, but she’d hit the nail on the head.

“You like me?” She asked, a twinge of anxiety hitting her in the stomach.

Releasing a breath, he nodded, “I like you.”

She didn’t really want to admit how relieved she was to hear it, “And, you don’t want to scare me.”

Another nod. She wondered what had happened to make him think that she could be scared of him.  What had he done that was any worse than what she had done?

“When we first met, you asked me why I wasn’t scared of you. Do you remember what I said?”

One side of his mouth quirked up, “Because I wasn’t a threat to you.”

“That’s right,” she said, “Has anything really changed since then? Leave the sex out of it, for a minute. Have you suddenly begun to regard me maliciously?”

“No.”

“Do you want to hurt me?”

“No.”

“Alright, then why do you think that you would while we were—while…” A flush crept up her neck as she stumbled over her words. Eva took a breath, then said, “What’s the difference?”

He pulled his lips between his teeth while he thought, “I don’t always have the best control when I’m…”

She smiled, “You seemed to do just fine last night.”

And, he had. He’d been attentive and considerate, warm in a way that she hadn’t ever had in a partner. That he was so unsure only solidified her resolve to clear up whatever hesitations he might have.

His brows lifted and he gave a little nod, “Barely.”

Running her tongue along her bottom lip, Eva decided to go with a different tactic.  She slid from the stool and stood between his legs, cupping his face.

“Horacio,” she breathed, skimming her thumbs over the stubble on his jaw, “I’d like to ask you a question, and I hope that you’ll be able to answer me.”

His lids fell to half mast, arms coming up and around her hips.  Eva kissed him sweetly, letting him pull her deeper into his body.

“Tell me,” she murmured, “How many times did you make me come last night?”

Eva didn’t give him the time to answer, kissing him deeply. Hands in his hair, she kept kissing him until she had to break away for air.

“Are you going to answer me?” She asked, rising up on her toes to kiss him again. “Do you remember?”

He nodded, capturing her lips again, nipping at them with his teeth, soothing them with his tongue. In between one kiss and the next, he choked out the number ‘three’.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, sighing when he palmed her breasts over her shirt, “Three. All with you barely holding it together. Now, I want you to imagine how many I would have had if you hadn’t.”

Every muscle in his body tightened, eyes alight. Eva couldn’t be sure, but she might have actually shocked him. Patting his chest, she grabbed her cup, intending to get a refill. When she turned from him, his arm enveloped her waist, pulling her back. He took her cup and set it pointedly on the bar.

Dropping his hand, Horacio traced up the side of her thigh until he reached her hip. Eva was pretty sure he’d just discovered she wasn’t wearing underwear. Eyes forward, she remained still as she waited for him to process and react.

His hand changed course, moving to cup her firmly.  Breath hitching, she widened her stance. Next to her ear, he muttered something in Spanish, tone hot.

“What was that?”

Tucking his nose behind her ear, he said, “You have the sweetest little pussy.”

Jaw dropping, she looked over her shoulder at him, “Really?”

Eva might have had it in her to feel embarrassed by the way she desperately wanted validation from him—might have, if he wasn’t caressing her so nicely. He rubbed with just enough pressure to coax her arousal along at a steady pace, mindful that she might be sensitive. She sucked in a breath, rocking on the balls of her feet, her toes curling on the hardwood.

He hummed his assent, “I love how wet you get for me.” He plunged two fingers inside, inhaling, “I love how you smell.”

Suddenly, she was being lifted up and thrown over the back of the couch. She landed with a sharp yelp, her eyes wide with surprise.

He leaned over her, smiling wide, “Don’t move.”

And then he was gone. Chuckling, Eva stayed right where she was, listening to his footsteps fade and then come back. He stepped around the end of the couch, tossed a condom onto the coffee table, and crawled over her. Pulling her thighs up and around him, he kissed her softly. One kiss blended into the next, growing deeper, hotter. Eva couldn’t stop touching him, couldn’t stop her hands from running over every inch of exposed skin.

Pulling the t shirt off her body, Horacio threw it aside and looked down the length of her, hands smoothing along her sides. He eased her hips open, thumbs slipping down to hold her open.

“Pretty,” he breathed.

Eva, feeling just a bit exposed, gave a nervous chuckle, “First I’m sweet, now I’m pretty.”

Looking up at her from beneath his lashes, half smiling, he said, “You’re both. Sweet, pretty.” He leaned down and licked—too light to give her any real stimulation, but the visual made her suck in a breath, her heart stuttering. “Tasty.” He ran the flat of his tongue over her again, swirling it over her clit, “Hot. Wet.”

His words trailed off as he got honest about it, two fingers pushing inside. Eva’s eyes closed, a low moan sounding. Against all reason, the wave of her orgasm rose fast and hard. She cried out, head tipped back, hands gripping the cushion beneath her. He worked her through it and kept going, slowing only long enough for her to get her breath.

“I can’t,” she said hoarsely, “I can’t so soon.”

He groaned against her, lifting up just enough to say, “I disagree.”

The fingers inside her curled, pressing hard against a spot inside her that made her vision go completely black as her eyes rolled back. A strangled squeak eeked out of her throat, her muscles burning from being held so damn tightly. Her body obeyed him without having to be told, and she was soon coming again, her face buried against the back of the couch.

When she could see again, Eva pushed him to sit back into the couch cushions. She leaned over and grabbed the condom, rising to straddle him. He held her hips, steadying her as she rested most of her weight on the back of the couch, keeping distance between them.

She kissed him, dipping her tongue inside to taste a mix of them both. Mouthing down his jaw, she rasped her lips against his stubble. He dropped his chin and nuzzled into her breasts, reaching down to grab a handful of her ass.

Eva traced the waistband of his briefs, “Off.”

He slid them off, kicking them to the side while she opened the packet. She rolled on the condom, giving him a firm stroke. When she went to lower herself down on him, he grasped her hips. He held her gaze as he guided her down slow. She was wet enough that the glide was only hampered by the need to pause and let her body adjust to him. The full light of the day told her that she hadn’t been wrong when she’d felt how big he was the night previous. He stretched her wide with every push downwards, pressing against her walls deliciously.

As she took the last few inches, Eva let her forehead fall to his, their noses brushing against one another. She let herself just sit there for a minute, soaking in the heat of his skin, the way they breathed the same air. Her body was so full that she could feel his heartbeat from the inside. Though he had to be needing her to move, he didn’t pull at her, didn’t try to push her to start rocking on him. She could kiss him for that—so she did.

Long, slow kisses that poured out from her like honey, making her feel drugged. She was absolutely steeped in his scent, anchored down by it. Eva thought that she could stay just like this forever. It was a dangerous thought, one that Eva set aside as she laid kisses down his neck and over to the sensitive skin behind his ear.

Beneath that skin was a little ridge, a scent gland that told the world what he was and signaled all kinds of information—his moods, his bond status, his wants and needs. For an omega, for this omega, it drew attention and care. She pressed her tongue to it, pulling the taste of him into her mouth.

Groaning, Horacio’s grip tightened, but she felt him breathe deep, visibly centering himself. This was disappointing. She should try again. Eva rolled her tongue over the gland again, ending it with a firm suck, the sound of it loud in the quiet of the room.

He exclaimed harshly, hips driving up hard once, twice. He held her to him, one hand buried in her hair, the other wrapped around her waist. Seeming to catch himself, he rested his head on her shoulder, mumbling a sincere ‘lo siento’. He whispered it again, using the leverage of his grip on her hair to pull her face to his. She smiled, kissing him briefly, wordlessly letting him know that she was fine.

And then she went right back to what she was doing. His entirely body went lax and somehow clenched at the same time, his hands squeezing into fists. He groaned her name. He panted against her skin. But, he didn’t move. Eva marveled at the sheer amount of control he had—if the situation had been reversed, she would have done anything to get the stimulation she needed.

As it was, she could feel her body pulse with want, all her senses inundated with the feeling of the strong, aroused alpha beneath her.

“You’re doing so good.”

The thought came out as soon as it entered her mind, along with the need to reward him for everything that he was trying to do. She nosed over to the other side of his neck, thumb rubbing at the gland on that side. A rumbling growl vibrated against her chest, his heart hammering underneath. Eva leaned down and let him feel her breathe against it. God, but he smelled good everywhere. She took in deep lungfuls, fingers curling over his shoulders to hold him still—not that she needed to.

“So good,” she repeated, drawing the gland gingerly between her lips.

His chin tipped back, allowing her all the access she wanted. His moans sounded in time with her kiss, interrupted by little growls that she could tell he was fighting to hold back.

Pulling away, she looked at him. He was biting his lip so hard, she thought he might actually draw blood. Brows together, she ran a thumb over his chin, pulling gently. When he released it, she drew the reddened skin into her mouth, running her tongue over it.

Horacio kissed her hard, hands cupping either side of her head. Eva swiveled her hips a little, enjoying the little gasp he made when she ground down on him. The movement was smooth, her slick running down his cock with every pass. Unable to keep the slow pace, it wasn’t long before Eva was rocking her hips over him, angling to hit her g spot with every downward thrust.

Her entire world narrowed down on the way her body was lighting up with pleasure, tightening around him. Little groans grew into high pitched rhythmic moans. Fuck, she was going to come again.  He seemed to know it, too.

Horacio helped her along, when her hips started to falter, “I got you. Wanna feel it. I wanna feel you come on me.”

Fire burned low in her belly, billowing out so that her whole body felt encompassed by blistering heat. Eva felt a kind of ragged scream scrape past her vocal chords. She threw back her head, hair falling over her shoulders. This was different than when he made her come on his fingers or mouth. Now, she had something hard to fill her up, to crash against. There was no room inside her to push down, so the contractions rippled out, shaking her down to her bones.

He supported her through it, his own orgasm following not far behind. She sighed at the feeling, arms wrapping around his shoulders as her muscles gave out. For a long time, they just sat there, holding each other. Eva was pretty sure she’d lost all feeling below the waist. There was nothing but tingles all over her body, and this nice, lazy relaxation. She enjoyed it immensely.

Later, when they’d finally gotten dressed, he’d told her that he did need to go raid that bar, but that he’d call her later to see if she wanted him to come by. By the door, he kissed her over and over, before saying that he really did need to go, and that he would try to get back before sun down.

When he did actually leave (several kisses later), Eva laid back on her bed. She could still smell him in the sheets. She lazed for most of the day, smiling wide when the phone rang in the late afternoon.

[mamourland]

Kissing Prompt  #45 - Magnum/Higgins

Prompt #45 - Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed.

 Context: Episode 2x02  -  follows the Prompts #2 & #46

Rating: Explicit 

Here it is!! The Tattoo search party ^^

“Why did we have to go to La Mariana again?” she panted against his lips as they tried to make their way up to Magnum’s room without tripping and tumbling down the stairs. It was quite difficult when neither of them wanted to relinquish the other’s lips.

 “No idea, we’ll never go there ever again. Better yet, we’re never leaving my room starting now.” he growled as he took possession of her lips one more time.

 She chuckled just as she broke away from his mouth, staggering across the wooden stairs in her high heels. Fortunately for her, he was holding her quite tightly against him therefore she didn’t completely fall down.

 “Need I remind you that we have a PI business to run and I’m still majordomo of this estate?”

 “Details!” he declared as they finally reached the landing.

  XXX Earlier that day XXX

  When he saw Higgins for the first time in a week after her trip to England, Magnum had only one thing on his mind: to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. But since their friends weren’t aware of the new dynamic of their relationship, he refrained from giving way to his urges. However, when they were alone after he put her suitcase in the Ferrari’s trunk, he pushed a blond curl from her face before pressing his lips against hers.

 “How was your flight?” he asked after taking his fill of her sweet taste.

 “Long.” she sighed.” I’m so glad to be home.”

 She wrapped her arms around his neck and he encircled her waist with his, both enjoying their first hug.

 “I missed you.” she whispered.

 “I missed you more.” he told her as he pecked her cheek.

 She rolled her eyes.

 “It’s not a competition, Magnum. Come on, the others will come investigate if we don’t join them soon.”

 As they drove away from Rick’s potential new bar in the direction of Robin’s Nest, Magnum threaded his fingers through hers and brushed a kiss against the soft skin of the back of her hand.

 She directed an affectionate smile at him.

 “Watch the road, Magnum.” she scolded him gently.” We wouldn’t want to crash before getting home, would we?”

 He smirked at her because they both knew what they were planning to do the second they got home. A week was too long of a time to wait to finally have her naked against him. Especially since Magnum discovered how much of a tease Higgins could be. All week long, he would wake up in the morning and find dirty voicemails on his phone about what she wanted to do to him when they would be reunited again.

 He was only a man and couldn’t wait to make everything she had told him in a sexy voice come true.

 However, when they reached the gate of the property, an Asian man was waiting for them. It looked like their alone time would have to be postponed as they took their first case as partners.

 When she was in London, Higgins had called him as soon as she got out of her MI-6 meeting to let him know she accepted his offer to be his partner. She had waited to hear what her old employer had to say as a courtesy but her decision had been made as soon as their lips met before she even got on her plane.

 He had been ecstatic when she had told him the news; not only was she staying to work with him but their relationship was taking the most wonderful turn.

 When they watched Sharon being reunited with her husband, they shared a look, knowing they both yearned to share the same embrace as the spouses. They expedited their statement to Katsumoto before rushing towards the car; now that the adrenaline had worn off, desire burned in their blood and increased the longing between them.

 Magnum knew he shouldn’t have answered Rick’s call on the way home. His friend had asked them to come and meet him at La Mariana in half an hour. The PI groaned as he hung up and threw an apologetic look to his partner.

 “Sorry, Higgy. Rick has helped me so many times in the past, I couldn’t say no to him.”

 “That’s ok.”, she said in a resigned voice. “They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, I wonder what it does to other… things.”, she threw a glance towards his crotch and Magnum cursed. She’ll be the death of him.

 XXXXX

 Thomas was peeling the label of his beer absent-mindedly, too lost in his own little world. His gaze was directed towards Juliet, sitting across from him, or rather her cleavage but he wasn’t ogling at her. He was just… absent, wishing time would pass faster so he could go home with her.

 She was wearing the most gorgeous wrap dress – cream-colored with a blue and red pattern – with platform shoes that did something quite wonderful for her posture, creating a natural arch for her back that Magnum long to graze with his fingers.

 In the back of his mind, he registered the beautiful sound of her laugh when Rick told them another story of the time when they were in Afghanistan. Suddenly, he jumped when he felt someone kick his shin rather painfully. His eyes met hers across the table and she frowned slightly at him while gesturing towards his blond friend with her head. He understood Rick had spoken to him and was waiting for him to answer him.

 “I’m sorry, I kinda zoned out.” he chuckled apologetically.

 “Thank God, you had more reflexes when we were on active duty!” Rick laughed and everyone around the table followed.

 Higgins came to his rescue when she yawned.

 “I’m so sorry to bother you, Magnum but I’m still a bit jet lagged. Would you mind driving me back home, please?” she asked him sweetly.

 He tried not to grin at her subtle attempt to find an excuse for them to leave. He cleared his throat, trying to act surprised at her request.

 “Uh, no I don’t mind. I’m getting a bit tired myself.”

 They both got up and bid their friends goodnight before hurrying to the car.

 When they finally reached Robin’s Nest, the sun had set and they could feel the chill of the night settle around them. He parked the Ferrari and put his hand on her arm to prevent her from exiting the car. He walked around the car until he was at her door and opened it for her. She smiled as she took his offered hand and rose to his height thanks to her heels.

 His eyes were immediately drawn to her red painted lips before traveling back to hers. She smirked when she noticed his slight pause on her mouth and closed the distance between them. Their kiss was gentle, belying the feverish desire coursing his veins due to their physical closeness. She broke their embrace when he tried to deepen the kiss.

 She took his hand in hers and walked towards the guesthouse, pulling him behind her.

 They were barely past the front door when they couldn’t hold it anymore and crashed against each other, their mouths colliding, teeth knocking and tongues mingling.

 Once they successfully climbed the stairs, they turned in the direction of his bedroom but he didn’t apprehend the move properly and bumped his arm against the edge of the wall.

 He groaned in pain and she laughed at him before rubbing a gentle hand across his afflicted skin. He didn’t leave her time to speak and fused their mouths back together, pushing her backwards with his hands around her waist. In the meantime, she started unbuttoning his gray shirt.

 With his eyes closed, he blindly advanced until they were in his room. They were stopped in their progress when Higgins almost toppled over one of the armchairs that was in their path. She yelped when she felt herself fall backwards and gripped the first thing she could: the lapels of his shirt. He felt himself being pulled down with her but he wrapped one arm around her waist and braced himself with his other hand on the armrest to prevent it.

 She huffed against his lips when he tried to distract her from this mishap with more kisses. She turned them around so he was the one going backwards and they resumed their journey towards the bed. She pushed his open shirt from his shoulders until it fell on the floor. This time they encountered a pair of sneakers lying on the floor, making him almost trip over them.

 « For God’s sake, Magnum! You were in the military and you don’t know how to pick up your things? » she grumbled as he kicked all the items threatening their safety away from their path.

 « Sorry, I didn’t have time to straighten things up. » he said sheepishly.

 She wanted to look pissed off but when Magnum looked at her, he couldn’t hold back a grin; her lipstick was now faded and almost completely smeared around her lips, meaning he must be sporting the exact same look. The thought that their intense making out was the reason behind this look made him almost giddy.

 « What’s so funny? » she asked.

 He brushed the pad of his thumb across her lower lip.

 « Nothing, you just look sexy as hell, that’s all. » he groaned.

 He didn’t give her time to answer before he seized her mouth again, thrusting his tongue inside. They both moaned and Magnum was surprised by how much he enjoyed just kissing her when not ten minutes earlier he wanted one thing and one thing only: to be buried inside of her. The feel of her soft lips made him want to relish in this moment with her and slow things down.

 She had other ideas though as she dropped her hands to the waist of his black jeans and opened the button before pushing them down his thighs. He tried to advance towards her to close the last of the distance between their bodies but apparently forgot his jeans were still around his knees.

 He stumbled into her and their heads knocked together.

 She sighed as she rubbed her forehead.

 « Someone is going to get hurt before we even make it to the bed. » she grumbled.  « So, lose the shoes and the jeans and we’re going to hold off on the kisses until we’re safely on the bed. » she directed him.

 He toed off his sneakers and shucked off his jeans before removing his socks. He stood up again and noticed her gaze drop down to the front of his tight boxer briefs where his erection was proudly outlined. He noted that she seemed to like what she saw judging on the way her lips quirked up. Her perusal made his member twitch within its confines.

 He grabbed her hand and marched towards the foot of his bed, dragging her with him. Once they finally arrived at their destination unscathed, he turned her so her back was to the bed and he was standing in front of her. He untied the knot of her dress at her left hip and expected the fabric to part like a robe but was disappointed when it was still attached between her breasts.

 She chuckled at his crestfallen expression and quickly undid the couple of buttons still holding her dress to her body. When the fabric finally parted he was met with the most gorgeous view. He pushed her garment off her shoulders to enjoy the full effect of Juliet Higgins clad in white lace.

 « You look so beautiful. » he breathed.

 « Ready for the search party? » she asked cheekily.

 He grinned, remembering his promise to look for her secret tattoo.

 « More than ready. » he groaned as his gaze traveled the length of her body.

 He didn’t see anything peeking out of her skimpy lingerie which meant that it must be a rather small tattoo.

 « Turn around. » he told her.

 She did a 180 slowly, and when he saw white lace disappearing between her butt cheeks, heat engulfed his whole body like fire was coursing in his veins. She was wearing a fucking thong!

 « You’re killing me, Higgy! » he whined and he had never seen her so proud of herself when she faced him again.

 « What’s your prognosis? » she asked him as if she didn’t just make his body burn with desire.

 He brushed his thumb across the soft fabric at her left hip.

 « Here. » he announced.

 « Well, there’s only one way to find out. »

 She bent over to remove her shoes but he stopped her.

 « Leave them on. » he instructed and finally grazed down the arch of her back created by her heels like he had wanted to, all evening.

 He, then, wrapped one arm around her waist and guided her to his bed until she was lying in the middle of the mattress before covering her body with his. She looped her arms around his shoulders and he kissed her one more time on the lips before traveling to her neck, nipping and suckling the soft and delicate skin.

 « No hickeys where we can see them. » she told him, already breathless.

 He grinned against her; that meant he could leave some in hidden places. He continued his journey, brushing some light kisses across her shoulder, pushing her bra straps aside as he encountered them. His kisses led him to her collarbone before he paid attention to the soft swell of her breasts peeking out of the delicate lace. He slid his hands beneath her and deftly unhooked her bra to divest it off of her.

 He checked her sides for any sign of ink on her newly uncovered skin but came up empty; he didn’t rush to see if he was right with his prognosis yet, her puckered nipples in front of him demanded his attention first. He wrapped his lips around one and suckled gently, reveling in the soft noises she made. He reserved the same treatment to the other ones and she dug her nails into the skin of his back, making him groan around her flesh.

 She panted as she pushed her pelvis up against his and he needed to move things along or he would spontaneously combust. He trailed his lips across her taut stomach and grazed his fingertips down her sides, making her squirm beneath his touch.

 When he reached the waistband of her thong, he felt her belly rise up and down with each rapid breath she took. He lifted the elastic and slid his fingers underneath, ready to remove the underwear. He caught her eyes, filled with lust and affection, before he pressed a kiss under her navel.

 Left or right? The anticipation was both killing and thrilling him.

 He pushed the lace from her hips and there it was.

 The small black design, next to her left hip bone, that looked like the infinity sign but was still different. The loops were not actually joined, but represented an arrow with its head and nock next to each other in the middle of the pattern. He stroked the delicate skin, starting at the back of the arrow and following the features until he reached the arrowhead. He couldn’t wait to find out its meaning.

 « It’s the Malin symbol. »  she said, answering his unasked question. « It’s Swedish; it’s an acknowledgement of the fact that setbacks are a natural part of moving forward in life. »

 He thought that was the perfect summary of both their lives; nothing had been linear, instead there had been ruined plans, betrayal, and challenges among other misfortunes.

 “It’s quite true.” he agreed. “But now we seem to have found a steady situation, don’t you think?” he asked her as he ran his fingertip from the arrowhead to the wide expanse of her skin ahead of it, indicating their lives could be free of new setbacks.

 “I hope so.” she whispered as she cupped his cheek and brushed her thumb across the thin skin under his eye.

 He dipped his head to press a gentle kiss on her tattoo and finished sliding her underwear down her legs. When he reached the foot of the bed, he dropped them on the floor before unstrapping and removing her shoes. He stood up to get rid of his boxers and they were both finally naked.

 He resumed his position on top of her, aligning their hips together. He slipped his hand between their bodies to run a finger through her folds, checking if she was ready for him. When he was met with more wetness than he anticipated, he groaned.

 He met her eyes and she smirked.

 “No need to tell you how much I want you right now, I suppose?”

 He ground his pelvis against hers to make her feel his hot pulsating member full of desire for her.

 “Right back at you.”

 He grabbed his manhood and positioned himself at her entrance before slowly entering her. She wrapped her legs around his waist so he could sink even deeper into her heat and, for a few seconds, Magnum felt dizzy. No word could describe the feeling of being buried inside of her.

 He slid his arms around her lower back to keep her hips pressed against his and started moving within her wet, tight heat. They both moaned and he swallowed the sounds coming out of her with his lips.

 They kept undulating in a steady rhythm, sharing the same air and looking into each other’s eyes until he felt her walls around him flutter. She closed her eyes and arched her neck as her orgasm rushed through her. She groaned his name loudly and Magnum hissed as she squeezed him tightly.

 When he was certain she had ridden the last wave of her release he took care of his own with quick, short thrusts and buried his face into her neck when he came with her name on his lips. She moaned when he emptied himself deep inside of her before he collapsed on top of her.

 She stroked his back lightly as they both tried to catch their breaths.

 A few minutes later, he rolled away from her and lay on his side, propped on his elbow next to her. He stroked her tattoo with his index finger.

 “I was right about the location. So what do I win?” he asked eagerly.

 “I just gave myself entirely to you, what more do you want?” she asked him, amused.

 His heart raced at her words, finding the idea of her as completely his more than appealing. He brushed his lips against her shoulder.

 “That is quite a prize, indeed.” he agreed with her.

 He laid his head above her breast and relished in the way her nails were scratching his scalp.

 “You’re mine and I’m yours.” he added against the skin above her heart, feeling it thrum more quickly at his words.

 “You have so much more to offer than MI-6.” she said lightly.

 “And don’t you forget it.” he warned her gently.

[bitchassbucky]

.eps (explicit)

Word Count: 2k

Warning/s: dark!bucky x dark!reader, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, blood mention, gore and dismemberment/beheading, murder, toxic/abusive relationship dynamics, sedation/drugging/use of sedative, stockholm syndrome-ish, one very special character reveal

A/N: i told y'all there's more <3 the special character treat is for @sarge-barnes-sir mwah!

this is queued shdhhsh gonna fix the links in the mornin’

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS ABOVE, IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ THIS VERSION, GO AND CHECK OUT THE NON-EXPLICIT VERSION.

follow the CTRL series:

i - .exe

ii - .avi

iii - .raw

iv - .png

v - .zip

CTRL playlist CTRL moodboard

Safeness, comfortability, warmth are all but a false sense of reality.

When a prey takes down its walls, the predator moves in. Camouflaged in familiar colors, in words that you’re used to hearing, in praises, in lies. Most predators use the mask of the night to move in darkness—unyielding and calculated. Come morning, there will be only one left alive, tainted with victory and bloodshed.

You and Bucky have been engaging in a dance for two—a battle of who’s willing to take the leap of faith and unleash hell upon the other.

Stifled smiles and pursed lips.

The air is filled with unsaid irritants, little things that ticked away like bombs.

There was no time for pleading, no time for mercy, no rest for the wicked.

Did you still love each other?

How far are you willing to go to keep up with his… complacency?

Bucky’s mundane life already taking a toll on you. The endless nightmares of him feeling you. The swirling vision of Bucky being with you every waking—and sleeping—moment: it grates your soul to shreds.

“We’ll be together forever, right?”

“Yes, darling.”

“What about the day after forever?”

“That too, honey.”

Where was the man you loved so deeply? The man that broke his morals just to be with you?

Was he under this hull of a Yes Man? A poor little thing that says ‘yes’ to everything like a puppy.

The man you held so dearly now slipping away, chipping his humanity, shedding the once-human.

“Would you marry me tomorrow if I asked you?”

“Of course, baby, why wouldn’t I?”

“Would you kill for me?”

“I’m meant to do the same for you.”

It’s irritating how Bucky gave up too quickly. Too fast, moving too fast. The gazelle let the lion tear its neck as it lay there, unmoving, letting the blood seep into its hide.

When you first met Bucky, it was your own fairytale unfolding before your eyes. Kismet, reality, forgiveness from above. He was soft and shy, passionate, lively.

Far from what you expected from a man his age—you blame Steve for forcing you into his narrative before. That all men are out to get you. They will hurt you. They will use you and leave you for good. But Bucky? Bucky came in like a knight. He saved you from the carcass of your past. He saved you from the sins that you prayed and knelt for.

Bucky taught you how to love.

Bucky taught you how to live for yourself.

Bucky taught you that being alone doesn’t mean you have to be lonely.

“It was an unspoken little thing, wasn’t it?”

“What thing, baby?”

“Our love.”

“Yes, honey, it was.”

He worships you.

He worships you like a fucking God and you hate it.

Suffocating, too suffocating. You dove straight for the water and now you’re drowning.

Do you still love each other? The question hangs in the air, heavy with its weight, light as a feather.

It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault.

So you stand there with a syringe half-filled with a horse sedative. It’s a concern how easy it is to waltz into a pet store and pick up a general anesthetic. You make a mental note to look at it later.

Bucky’s body slumps forward, his forehead meeting the edge of the table with a dull thud. If the overdose doesn’t kill him, the weeping crack in his head will.

Holy fuck, humans bleed a lot. And fast. Good thing you already have that clear tarp taped down. Even with the hush money stuffed down your throat, it would take a good nick to regrout the kitchen.

“What is that for, honey?”

“I’m painting the cabinets.”

“Okay, darling.”

So you let him bleed, surprised that the liquid is redder than what you thought it would be. A soft gurgling noise came from Bucky, the last of air escaping his dead body. You stood there, syringe in hand, as you thought how to dispose of a six-foot-tall man without arousing suspicion.

Not that he’ll be missed anyway: the local news and the internet already branded him as a psycho and you as a victim. You were both victims in this fairytale. They reported his case as “skipped the town like the sicko he is.” So, no—no one’s going to look for him.

The sun was high up in the sky and there was a dead body in your kitchen.

A butcher and a surgeon walks into a bar for a drink. “What do you do for a living?” Said the butcher, “I save lives! What about you?” The doctor answers. “I save animals from dying slowly. We’re basically the same. You’re just very clean.” You see, the butcher comes into the bar covered in blood, reeking of death. The surgeon, on the other hand, wears his white coat with pride even though he’s surrounded by death every passing second.

Today was the day you learned that you have the tools of a butcher and the precision of a surgeon. Unlike before.

You carefully take Bucky’s fingers off of his left hand, leaving a skin flap on the edge of the last knuckle for you to stitch close later. Four promises. Four goddamn promises and he broke all of them.

It was his fault that he’s dead. He made you do this.

Starting with his left shoulder, you jab the knife between the bone and the soft flesh of his armpit, bringing the blade downwards. The sickening smell of blood swirled along with the image of muscle and fat being sliced made you gag.

Does the brain know that it’s seeing something it shouldn’t?

A rational part of you wanted to look away but the time is ticking, it’ll be much harder once rigor mortis sets in an hour.

You swing the knife down, cracking the bone once, and then again, and again, and again until the shoulder bone splinters and dislocates itself from the rest of Bucky’s torso. You had to switch knives and blades and a fucking bone saw to get through the rest of his limbs, leaving only his chest, head, and stomach untouched. After taping up and packing the arms and the legs, you work on putting the rest of Bucky into a nondescript suitcase.

The only problem being his head getting into the way of things.

Wanting to preserve even a shred of his dignity, you left his face untouched. Well, save from the crack in his skull.

You begrudgingly take a hefty chef’s knife and start cutting through the jugular vein, only stopping when the blade hits the spinal cord by his nape. The serrated blade of the bone saw sits on your blood-soaked gloves, scrape-scrape-scraping until it snaps into two.

The human head weighs around 10 pounds, kinda like a bowling ball.

An opaque black garbage bag containing Bucky’s head looks nothing suspicious as you put it inside a backpack—into a firepit you go.

His limbs—arms and legs alike—are going deep into the ocean, forgotten and to be used as fish food.

The limbless torso will be finding its home in a deep hole in the middle of a densely wooded area, far from the city.

But you’re not quite sure what to do with the mason jar of teeth though; the clinking noises of it remind you of the seashells you used to collect when you were a kid. Maybe you’ll stash it away with the torso.

Placing the bags into the trunk of a rental, you begin your journey to the end of your fairytale.

The drive to and from the places was tiring, to say the least. The internet connection of the diners was spotty at best. Locals were overly friendly with the city folks who came passing through their towns. The roads reek of roadkill and manure from the farm animals that were left to roam for fresh grass.

At least you get to come home in a spotless apartment, alone once again.

But not lonely.

Your space is yours again. No trace of anyone anywhere. Immaculately yours.

—

Humans are social creatures.

No one can truly be alone, especially in today’s world where we’re connected to everyone—whether we liked it or not.

Leaving your wretched job behind was an easy feat to do. No one can say no to the victim of such a vile crime. That’s all they saw you: a helpless little thing. So off you went; saying half-assed goodbyes and sending emails of courage and hope and fucking resilience.

Your resignation meant that the company’s free of any dirt from you, Bucky’s disappearance quickly becoming a joke and a rumor blending in one.

They let you leave: in your bank account a fat check ensuring that you’d shut up about the scandal for months until you can’t feed yourself no more. So you packed your bags and jet off without looking back. You never liked that apartment anyway.

Nevertheless, you found yourself looking into another dead-end job in one of the towns you stopped over before. It’s a charming place like time froze in their plaza while the rest of the world went on. You found a small studio apartment in a street tuckered away from the main avenue, you settled there as days became nights and nights turned into days.

You woke up one morning craving a healthy serving of coffee and pancakes, luckily the town’s local diner wasn’t far from your new home.

The coffee was too hot, the pancakes were amazing, fluffy, and just right. You’re sitting in a sunny booth, the warmth doing its wonders.

“Hi, can I get today’s paper, please?” Your voice is sweet as you call your server, giving her a quick smile.

A pair of Raybans adorn your face, unconsciously hiding behind its darkened glasses. The waitress gives you a thick stack of newspapers, refilling your cup with black coffee.

Upon opening the paper, you ignore the town’s headlines and went straight for the job postings. The door jingled open as patrons come in and go, waving to familiar faces.

Job Vacancy Announcements

Secretary to the Town Sheriff

You skimmed over the rest of the details, only noting the address of the office. The job looks quite lucrative for someone who would only take messages and organize files for the sheriff.

Looking over the job posting again, you read over the words walk-ins only. That shouldn’t be hard enough.

The diner looked deserted save from the man sitting behind your booth. Leaning over and tapping his shoulder, you put on a polite smile, “Hi, sorry, do you know how to get to the sheriff’s office from here?”

“Hello, darling.” The man croons in an accent, he looks over to you, “join me in my booth, will ‘ya?”

You’re in no position to reject his proposal, you’re the one who needed an answer.

Taking your coffee cup, you slide into his booth, “hi.”

“Just the face I wanted to see.” Clean-shaven, a hint of mint and smoke, and something woody; a worn leather jacket and white button-up shirt hugging his soft frame. “Some folks over on the apartment complex were talkin’ about a city girl wanting to rent a studio all by herself. That happen to be you?”

You look over to him, trying to understand how that small of news spread like a wildfire, “yeah. I moved in a week ago.”

He leans over, smiling sweetly as he unabashedly lets his eyes roam your features, “What’s a city girl like you doin’ in a place like this? I hope we ain’t too boring for you, gal.”

Chatty—he’s way too chatty.

“Just wanted a change of pace, really. Away from the bustle of the city.” You rustle the paper, clearing your throat to get back on the matter on hand, “so the sheriff’s office? Is it too far from here?”

“What business are ‘ya bringing into the office?”

“A job, actually. Says here that they’re looking for a secretary.” You might as well tell him everything, he seems too chatty to be dismissed over and over again.

“Well, darlin’, today’s your lucky day. No need to drive down the old road.” He reaches down to his seat, pulling up a brown hat, “Hi, I’m Sheriff Bodecker. Now, to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

You bite back a giggle, you’ve always wanted to be involved with the law.

[sol-tinyrayofsun]

Zutara Week Day 7 - Rebirth: I´ll Save You From Forgetfulness

Title: I´ll Save You From Forgetfulness

Rating: G

Summary: Across multiple lifetimes, Zuko and Katara have always chased after each other. They’re destined to be together, but having a soulmate isn’t as easy as it might seem. Especially if every time they’re reincarnated one of them completely forgets everything about the other.

This time is Zuko’s turn to be the one who remembers. And he’s more than ecstatic when Katara finally comes waltzing into his life. The only thing left to do is find a way of telling her the truth.

Also on AO3!

--- I just couldn’t let Zutara Week go by without writing a Soulmates AU for it. They’re one of my favorite kinds of stories and I’m really happy with how mine turned out.

In all honesty, the writing process for it consisted of me loudly singing and getting overly emotional at my own darn words. I’m just too soft for these two, alright? Bear with me. I low-key refuse to believe this week is coming to an end.

I hope you like it just as much as I’ve grown to do. As always, thank you for reading! <3 --------- It was her. Zuko had no doubt. It was her voice that he was hearing. A rush of adrenaline flashed through his entire body. Twenty years, two-hundred and forty months, a thousand and forty-two weeks, and seven-thousand and three-hundred days. That’s how long he had waited for her this time. 

But now, hearing her scandalous laugh all the way from behind the countertop of his Uncle’s tea shop, he felt alive. It was always like that, the moment when they found each other once again. So far, it was already the highlight of his current existence. 

He quickly turned around, leaning his elbows on top of the counter and trying to look for her. The salon as crowded as usual during the afternoons but it didn’t take him long to find who he was searching for amidst the sea of strangers. 

There she was. About to be seated with a group of friends in the table by the window. It was breathtaking to finally see her after so long. Zuko felt her heart skipping a beat - or a hundred, he wasn’t entirely sure - as she sat down on one of the comfy green chairs of the shop. 

Anyone else would have probably thought it was too much of a coincide for Katara to come waltzing into the tea shop he worked at. But Zuko was already used to their little coincidences. The two of them have shared many different lives, and it had always started with fate bringing them together in the first place. 

They had learned not to push it, even though it would be near impossible for them to find each other instead of letting destiny do its job. Because there was the extremely annoying detail of how only one of them remembered about their lives together. Each reincarnation, they would interchange places, taking turns regarding who would be the lonely memorious and who would score the blissful obliviousness. It was certainly unpractical, but they were both used to it. And now, they had found each other again.

The only problem was, Zuko hated to be the one who remembered. Not only it implied years of solitude and melancholy, but it came with the complicated burden of reminding the other one about their whole ordeal. And trying to explain to someone that they’re your soulmates and you’ve shared multiple life isn’t easy at all. In fact, it was the worst. She had always handled it far better than him. Though it was his turn now, he had to help her remember him. Remember them.

“Uncle!” Zuko exclaimed as he put down the rag he had been cleaning teacups with, heading to the back of the house. “You mind if I take care of the salon for some time? I could use a dynamic swap.” 

His uncle looked at him from inside the kitchen, busy preparing an egg custard pie. “Sure, as long as the to-go counter isn’t too busy…. Lee should be able to handle it.” 

“Perfect.” He couldn’t contain the energy that had taken over him. Even his voice sounded overly enthusiastic. “I’ll go wait the tables then.”

With that been said, Zuko sprinted to the salon. Not without making sure to check himself out in a small mirror that hung from the corridor’s wall. He looked decent enough. His scar was the only thing that could surprise her. Though, actually, it couldn’t surprise her since she wouldn’t even remember what he looked like without it. Taking a deep breath, he marched up to her table. 

Oh Agni, how foolish of him had been to underestimate the moment his eyes met hers for the first time in years. It was her, Katara, with those ocean blue eyes and her ridiculously kind smile. He would’ve recognized his soulmate anywhere. 

Alright, enough staring. Take their order once and for all. 

Her friend group seemed nice, though perhaps a little loud. It consisted of two other girls and two other boys. The five of them looked like they were having a great time. 

“Hello! My name is Zuko, and I will be taking care of your table this afternoon.” He made sure to put in his brightest, most charming smile. “Can I take your order or would you prefer to have a couple more minutes?”

“Guys!” Katara’s voice echoed in his ears. “Are you ready to order?”

Her four friends seemed to be caught off guard. Perhaps he had arrived a little to early at their table. 

“Sist, give me a sec,” One of the boys said. “I’m helping Toph decide what to get.”

Zuko hadn’t noticed one of the girls was blind. She seemed to handle herself remarkably well. He also hadn’t even considered the possibility of meeting Katara’s family that soon. She had a brother, an older one from what he looked like, named Sokka. The guy seemed to be around his age, whether Katara was definitely one or two years younger in this new lifetime. 

“I’m sorry,” Katara said to him, looking straight into his eyes. He felt his pulse racing like never before in his current life. “I swear they do this everywhere we go. It shouldn’t take more than a minute. We’ve just dropped our bags at the hotel next door, and they’re still jumpy from all that traveling.” 

There’s nothing to be sorry for, Zuko thought, delighted at the fact that she was already addressing him, and sharing a bit of her life. Any progress was valid, no matter how little it seemed. 

“Oh no, don’t apologize,” he replied, making a courteous smile. “I’ll happily take your order in the meantime. So you’re staying at the Ember Hotel, then?” 

“Yeah, it’s got a nice central location, we want to explore the city all we can,” she replied. “Oh, and thanks, I’ll have a hibiscus tea and a blueberry muffin.” 

Hibiscus tea? Katara must’ve been feeling adventurous because Zuko was certain chamomile and rose tea was her favorite one. But the news of her staying at the hotel right next door had been enough to have him almost jumping all over the place. What a marvelous coincidence. Just as always.

“Got it,” he said as he wrote it down on his notepad. “Anyone else ready to order?”

The girl whose name he didn’t know yet was the first to speak. “I’ll have a peppermint tea and a granola bar. Thanks.”

“And I would like a green tea and a portion of egg custard pie, please,” The other guy said. 

Katara’s brother finally looked at him. “Sorry for the wait. I’ll have a ginger tea and a fruit cake.”

“And I’ll take the Puerh tea with a cheese roll, thank you very much,” Toph added. 

“Alright, great, thank you. I’ll be sure to bring your order as soon as it’s ready.” He closed down his notepad and placed it into his apron’s pocket. 

“Thank you, Zuko.” Katara’s voice was like music to him. “Sorry again for the delay.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it.” He smiled at her as he started to walk away.

Not even ten minutes of finding her and she had already said his name, shared a bit about her plans and told him she was staying next door. Not bad at all. Zuko smiled, sprinting to get their order ready. He had a good feeling about this lifetime. 

From what he was able to gather by their chatter as he brought their food and drinks to the table, the five of them were there as part of their summer road trip all the way from Omashu. The good news was they planned to stay for a few days at Ba Sing Se. But the downside was just how far away from him Omashu really was. He would have to hurry this time around and figure out a way to tell Katara the truth before she left.

The evening had fallen upon the city, with the sun going down on the horizon. Zuko looked at his soulmate from behind the counter, admiring her from the distance. She looked happy amongst her friends. Yet a couple of times her eyes wandered across the room, seemingly searching for something. He understood that feeling. Even when he had been the one who didn’t remember a thing, a sensation of loss was always there, creeping behind his back. That feeling was a constant reminder that there was something - someone - missing from their existence. That thing was each other. 

Speeding up his pace, Zuko marched up to Katara’s table to bring her the credit card receipt. It hadn’t surprised him in the slightest that she had offered to pay for the entire group. Her kindness stayed intact no matter what lifetime. He was already scheming what his move could be to secure seeing her again soon. 

“Alright guys, I have your receipt,” he said with a cheerful tone when he got there. “Was everything okay with your order?”

“Yeah, thank you,” the older girl said. 

He smiled, trying not to stare at Katara. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” 

“Actually,” Sokka rushed to say. “My sister here was just wondering if you were open early during tomorrow’s morning.”

For her? I could come here at the crack of dawn.

“I have a meeting at 9:00 am not so far away,” Katara explained. “I would rather have breakfast here before leaving.”

That was perfect. Way better than his very awkward options on how to get her number. If she came to the shop the next morning, he would definitely see her again. 

“We open at 8:00 am sharp. I’ll actually be working the morning shift tomorrow, so I can assure you, the business will run just as usual.” 

Her face lightened up. “That’s perfect, thanks.” 

“Here are the credit card receipts, if you could please sign this.” He handed her the restaurant’s copy of the receipt.

Katara complied. Her friends were talking about their plans for the next day.

“There you go,” she said with a smile. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He felt his heart skip a beat just by hearing her say those words. His eyes met hers, and he swore he sensed electricity in the air. 

“Thank you,” he replied as he took back the bill folder. “See you tomorrow. I hope all of you enjoyed your meal.”

“It was very good, thank you,” the younger looking boy said.

“My pleasure. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” With that said, Zuko turned around and headed back to the counter. 

He was seeing her again, in less than twenty-four hours. After twenty years of looking for her in every stranger, she had finally come to him. 

————

Katara stood by the entrance of The Jasmine Dragon. It was an original name for a tea shop, she had to admit that. The entire structure of the place was beautiful. In comparison to the hotel she was staying at next door, whoever designed the place did a far superior job. 

She checked the time on her face, 8:00 am sharp. Her habit of being early had extended even to breakfast with herself. A familiar face rushed to open the front door for her. 

“Good morning,” Zuko greeted her. “Sorry if I kept you waiting, during the morning shift it’s only me and my uncle, at least until noon.”

A smile framed her face as she stepped into the shop. “It’s fine, really, it’s not even 8:01 yet.”

“Well, the good news is you can choose wherever you would like to sit at the most,” he said as he closed the door behind her. 

She looked around the place for a minute. It would be a little too lonely to sit on one of the huge tables by the windows all by herself. The small ones weren’t too bad, but she still wasn’t feeling it. Then she set her eyes on the countertop, with a handful of stools to sit on right by it. Behind was the tea making station. 

Staring for a split second at the guy who had welcomed her in, she knew where she wanted to sit. Something prompted her to make that choice. 

“You mind if I sit by the counter? I could use a little company.” Her voice showed the considerable strain of nervousness that had suddenly taken over her. 

But she was met with the warmest of smiles. 

“How could I mind? Come in, please.” He guided her there, going behind the bar once she had comfortably sat on one of the stools. 

Twirling around on the spot, she took a good look at the menu hanging from the wall. 

“Anything you could recommend to me? I’m sure you’re familiar with the house’s specialties.”

“Mmm, let me see,” he made a playful smirk. “I have a feeling chamomile and rose tea is a good fit for you. And I would definitely eat a chocolate-strawberry macaroon if I were you.” 

Hold up. Chamomile tea was actually her favorite. And Agni knew she loved anything that included chocolate and strawberries. His guess had been more than spot on.

“I love it! I feel like you’ve somehow read my mind,” she giggled. “Thanks, Zuko.”

“Who knows, maybe I did. You’re welcome…” the boy raised a brow, clearly waiting for her to tell him her name. 

“Katara,” she rushed to say. “That’s my name.”

“Wonderful name if you let me say so,” he mumbled. “Well, Katara, your order is coming right up.” 

Zuko got to work, meanwhile, she took out a small folder from her bag. She had to be ready for the orientation meeting at Ba Sing Se University. It wasn’t like every day one gets accepted to one of the most prestigious schools in the country. She went through her various notes that detailed every detail about the place. She was way too excited to start there in the fall. 

Katara couldn’t help but shift her sight up from the pages and to Zuko. There was something a little too familiar about him. She wasn’t entirely sure of what but it was still there. His presence was reassuring, it made her feel safe, understood. Amidst the uncertainty of being weeks away from moving to a completely new city, alone, she felt enchanted to meet him. 

“One chamomile and rose tea for the lady, with some chocolate-strawberry delight in the side.” His voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “Getting ready for the meeting, huh?”

Perhaps if anyone else had asked her, she would’ve felt uncomfortable. But him? She felt like they’ve already had a million conversations like that before. 

She moved her things to the side, leaving room for her breakfast. “Yeah, I have the orientation session at Ba Sing Se University, just a few blocks away. I’m starting there in the fall.”

She noticed his eyes lightening like a bonfire. He chuckled, smiling.

“No way, I go there! Congrats on your acceptance, you’re going to love it there.”

“You’re kidding, right? That’s great, I feel like I’ve already made a friend.” She felt herself blushing at the warmth of her words. “Is the school everything it advertises to be?”

“Well, food and dorms could use some improvements, but the classes are amazing. I’ve learned more in two years there than I did during all my high school career.”

Katara just wanted to know him better, now. The coincidence that had settled upon them was extraordinary. 

“What’s your major?” she asked, taking a sip of her tea. It was the best one she’d ever had. “Oh, this is great by the way. I think I’m going to be a regular around here.”

His cheeks turned red as his eyes glowed with excitement. “You’re more than welcome to claim that stool as your own from now on. I’m double majoring in English Literature and Creative Writing.”

“That’s great! Can’t wait to say I knew you once you’re a renamed author.”

A part of her couldn’t believe the way she was talking to him. Like she already knew him. In all honestly, she felt like actually she did.

“Um, hopefully, you’ll still know me?” Zuko fought a stutter. “And what about you? You’ve got your major picked out?”

She blushed a little while hearing his statement. “Yeah, I’m on the pre-med track. For now, I think I’ll major in Health and Human sciences.”

“Pre-med? Whoa, you’re in for the long run.” He leaned his elbows on the countertop, looking thoroughly at her. “What about your friends, any of them coming with you?”

She took a moment to savor her macaroon before answering. “Not really, though my brother and his girlfriend go to the Polytechnic University at Chameleon Bay, it’s not that far away. But Aang and Toph still have one year left till college.”

Zuko let out a slight whistle. “Really? That’s a top school, cheers to them.”

And so their conversation carried on, in between tea and macaroons. Words flowed effortlessly through them, never running out of things to say. Katara wanted to know everything about, to listen to all about his hopes and dreams. There was an unspoken connection between them. It was something she had never felt with anyone before. 

The sound of the doorbell ringing made Zuko straighten up on the spot, looking ready to greet in the new customers. She watched him as he excused himself and approached an old couple sitting by the window. 

Once he returned to the counter, he gifted her with an apologetic smile. 

“I would love to keep talking to you if you don’t mind me running all over the place while we’re at it,” he told her. 

Katara was about to tell him she didn’t mind in the slightest when her eyes set on the clock hanging from the wall. 8:45 am. How did the time go by so quickly? 

“Zuko, I’m really sorry but I’ve got to run! My orientation starts in fifteen minutes.”

His face practically fell to the floor. “Oh, I see. No problem, I wouldn’t want you to be late.”

“How much is it?” she asked, taking out her wallet. 

“Don’t worry, it’s on the house.” He smiled. “Take it as a ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ kinda thing.”

“You’re sure? I feel like it’s unfair, I shouldn’t,” she mumbled in response. 

“Nonsense,” he said. “It’s the least I can do.”

The least you can do, for what? Katara thought, still not moving from her - because she had already claimed it as her own - stool. But she didn’t think about it twice. What was really worrying was the prospect of not seeing Zuko again. 

“Will you be here this afternoon?” she timidly asked. 

“Yeah, I get off at six.” His eyes acquired a new spark to them. “If you’re free… I was wondering… um, well - I could show you around town. You know, all your stereotypical college hangout places.”

She felt her heart skipping a beat. There was nothing she wanted more. 

“I would love that! Any particular spot in mind for tonight?”

The smile on his face was priceless. “Well, if you’re in the mood for a good laugh, there’s this karaoke bar my classmates and I go to when we’re feeling adventurous.” 

She was feeling adventurous, more than expected. “Karaoke bar? Count me in. Meet you here at 6:30?” 

“Your friends won’t hate me for stealing you away from them?” Zuko asked. 

“They’ll survive a night without me,” she shrugged. “Alright, I really gotta run now. I’ll see you tonight, right?” She started to get up from the stool.

“See you at 6:30,” Zuko replied, a triumphal grin tattooed on his face. 

With that being said, Katara sprinted towards the entrance of the shop. Running to her orientation session, she already couldn’t wait to see him again. 

———

Momo’s Karaoke Bar was jam-packed like any other Friday night. But there was something very different in the atmosphere, Zuko could feel it with every fiber of his being. He was with her. It was as if all of a sudden he had started to feel things with more intensity. Nothing unusual once you’ve reincarnated a handful of times, but the thrill of those first few moments with her was always the sweetest. 

The two soulmates were sitting down on a table by the corner, listening to all the brave singers and laughing at some of the most grandiloquent performances. 

Katara was absolutely stunning that night - not that it surprised him - with a royal blue dress that exacerbated the ocean of her eyes. Her staple hair loops were also there, framing her face just in the way he loved so much. Lifetime after lifetime, her hairstyle was something he could always count on to be able to recognize the woman he loved. 

“Oh Agni, I can’t believe they’re actually singing this song!” Katara laughed, slowly humming to the beat of the music. 

“Pop! Goes My Heart” was playing, and the performance a bunch of pretty drunk guys was going lived up to the expectations of such tune. 

“You’ve seen the movie?” he asked. “I’m always here for a cheerful Hugh Grant film.”

“I love that movie! It kind of makes me wish I could have the ability to write a somewhat decent song though.”

If only Katara knew she had actually been quite the amateur songwriter just two lifetimes ago. Zuko had to repress a laugh as he remembered the way she chased after him all over their quiet downtown home, singing to him every single lyric she could think of. That life was amongst his personal favorites. 

“What are you smiling about?” she inquired, a playful smirk lightening up her face.

Darn, he must’ve been too obvious. Agni, he was dying to tell her. But he didn’t want to risk her thinking he was some kind of lunatic. He remembered the way she had almost called the cops on him during his first time being the one who remembered. Yikes, that had been an awkward reunion. 

“Nothing, I’m just wondering if you’re going to get up there and sing something,” he said as he took a bite from the pizza they were sharing. 

Katara let out a soft laugh. “Are you challenging me?”

“Maybe. I’m still on the fence about it.” He was not about to let her coerce him into climbing up the stage and singing a tune. There was no way he would do that alone. 

She raised a brow. “What if I tell you I’ll go up there in exchange of you singing one song with me?”

“You’re not going to make me sing all by myself?”

“I have a feeling you’ll never do such a thing.”

Agni, she already knew him too well for having no clue of their past lives together. Perhaps this time her memories had somehow started manifesting - in the form of hunches or gut feelings - before he even got the chance to tell her about it.

“Look at you, already reading my mind,” he teased. “Alright, one song. But I’ll pick the tune and you can definitely go first.”

She stuck her tongue out to him. “Perfect. You ready to hear me sing something really cheesy?”

Zuko had been ready for two decades. 

He chuckled, marveled at how easy things had turned out to be in the current lifetime. “Go ahead, dazzle me.”

Once it was finally their turn, he watched Katara climb up the stage, smiling timidly at him. He threw his thumbs up in the air, showing her his support. 

Much to his surprise, she started singing “Everything Has Changed” by Taylor Swift. She seemed to have taken the cheesy part very seriously. Still, it was sweet. He could feel his heart melting on the spot as he eased into the sound of her voice. 

“‘Cause all I know is we said ‘hello’ and your eyes look like coming home” 

Those lyrics had really started to get into his head. The song was a little too relatable at the moment. What if…?

“Tell me why I’m feeling like I’ve missed you all this time. Meet me there tonight and let me know that it’s not all in my mind”

Alright, he was getting the memo. She couldn’t have possibly chosen that song by a sheer coincidence, right?

“All I know since yesterday… Is everything has changed.”

Perhaps Katara was ready to know the truth. 

The song ended, and Zuko was met by the tenderest of blue eyes. He started cheering and clapping, making sure everyone in the room knew just how much he cared for her. It was exhilarating to realize he could actually have a chance of explaining everything to her. 

“Now I want to call up to the stage the person that made me come here in the first place. Get up here, Zuko! I hope you’ve got your song ready.” Katara’s voice worked like a charm. 

He instantly knew what tune he wanted to sing. If her song had a hidden message to it, he might as well do the same. Climbing on the stage, he made sure to let the employee know “Everlong” by the Foo Fighters was his choice. Luckily for him, they had the duet version of the lyrics available.

“You ready?” Katara asked him.

“Always been,” he replied as he made a playful smirk. 

The first riffs of the guitar started playing, and he started humming to the beat. 

“Hello, I’ve waited here for you… Everlong.”

As Zuko sang those first words, he thought about how perfect that night was. Those lyrics would hopefully make Katara understand their connection was more than real.

“Tonight, I throw myself into and out of the red.” 

Katara’s voice made his heart feel like it was about to explode. He wanted - no, he needed - to tell her the truth. They were ready. 

“And I wonder when I sing along with you if anything could ever feel this real forever. If anything could ever be this good again…” 

He needed her to understand. He needed to help her remember. They deserved better than the constant forgetfulness they had been doomed with.

“The only thing I’ll ever ask of you, you gotta promise not to stop when I say when…”

It was decided. Zuko was going to tell Katara they were soulmates. Tonight.

 Walking down Primrose Park, Zuko was barely able to contain his excitement. Their date had been the greatest thing that had happened to him in all that lifetime. Well, but that wasn’t really a surprise. 

The surprise was the way Katara seemed to be feeling the same way so easily. He remembered other times when things had turned out to be a little too complicated. But there, looking at the starry night sky, he felt like anything was possible. 

Seeing they were approaching a bench, he decided to go for it. 

“Hey, you mind if we sit down for a second?” he asked her. “There’s something I would like to talk to you about.” 

Katara made a slight yet surprised frown. “Sure, what is it?”

They were sitting down, it seemed to be only the two of them at the park.

Zuko took one hell of a deep breath before speaking. “I know you’ve only known me for one day. Um, well.” He cursed himself for mumbling. “Don’t you feel like we’ve met before?”

“Well… Yes,” she hesitated. “I feel something like that. Crazy, right?”

“Katara, what if I tell you it’s not crazy at all? What if I tell you we’ve had this conversation before?”

“I would say there was something shady with that mocktail you drank,” she joked, yet the look in her eyes didn’t correlate with her words. “Why?”

“Because I think deep down you know we’ve talked about this before.” His heart was furiously racing on his chest. 

“But how?” Katara whispered, looking concerned. “Zuko, that’s impossible.”

“It’s not impossible, not for us.” He brushed the back of her hands with his fingertips, trying to acquire the strength to tell her. “Are you familiar with the concept of soulmates?”

Her eyes showed that the word had rung a bell somewhere in the back of her mind. She looked mesmerized by his honesty. Still, she hadn’t moved her hand. 

“Yes. Of course, I’m familiar with the concept, it’s all over pop culture.”

Oh, Katara, if you only remembered the adventures we’ve lived together… You would know I’m talking about something very different from that. 

“Well… They are real… At least from our experience. And whenever soulmates are reborn into another life, they have a way of finding each other again. The only problem is, one of them doesn’t remember anything about the other.”

“Our experience?” Katara flinched. “Zuko, what are you even saying?”

He couldn’t keep running in circles, he had to tell her. There was no point in confusing her even more. 

“We are soulmates, Katara,” he blurted out, gasping for air. “We’ve lived almost a dozen lives before, together. And each damn time we reincarnate one of us forgets everything. This life, that’s you.”

She stood up, looking preoccupied. “No, that’s insane. That’s impossible.” Despite her words, she didn’t walk away.

Zuko dragged himself to his feet, scared of having rushed into it. “Please, listen to me. I know you feel it too. How do you think I know your favorite kind of tea? How do you think you knew that I wouldn’t dare to sing by myself? We already know each other.”

He noticed the look of utter realization in her eyes. She knew. 

“But…” Her voice was trembling. “How can I not remember? How could I forget about my own soulmate?”

He grasped her hand, softly caressing her skin. “It just happens, Kat, I’m sorry if I rushed to tell you. I thought you were ready.”

She interlaced her fingers into his, her eyes starting to turn a bit watery. “Zuko, I think I believe you. Don’t ask me why, but I believe you. Agni, this can't be happening.” 

“Come on.” He tugged her hand. “Let’s sit down again.” 

A moment of silence made its way around them. Fingers still intertwined and both of their hearts racing. Zuko wasn’t sure whether he should say something or not. 

“Were we happy?” Katara’s voice cut through the night air like a blade. 

“What?”

“In those past lives you´ve talked about…. Were we happy?”

“Oh.” He hesitated. “Yes, in most of them. Sometimes it took us longer to find each other, though we always managed. But yes, we were happy together. Two lives ago you were actually a songwriter like you mentioned earlier.”

Her cheeks turned red. “That’s what you were smiling about?”

“Well… Yes. That life was a great one. We lived down there at Gaoling, in a beautiful countryside house. We used to walk the kids to school every day.”

“... The kids?” She looked like she was about to cry. “We had a family together?”

“We’ve had many families together, Kat. And I’ve loved every one of them. I’ve loved you across many different lifetimes.”

A single tear ran down her face. “I hate not remembering anything,” she declared, with her voice trailing off. 

“I promise you sometimes obliviousness is all I wish for. Though you’ve always preferred to be the one who remembers. But it’ll all come back to you eventually. Once I tell you, the memories seem to return.”

“Really?” She shook her head. “Even if I don’t remember what happened… I think I remember the feeling. How it feels to love you. How scared I was of losing you every single time.”

“So there you go,” he said, smiling. “We’re soulmates. I can’t believe this turned out so well. I mean, you’re going to move here in the fall. That’s a hell of a lot easier than the last time.”

Another beat of silence. Until Katara took his hand into hers. 

“You said you’ve loved me across many lifetimes…” 

He felt a lump on his throat. “And I did. I do, I love you, Katara.”

“I think I love you too, Zuko. Even if I don’t remember our past lives. I love you for who you are right now.”

His heart was pounding on his chest. It felt liberating to hear her say those words. Knowing he had done the right thing, Zuko allowed himself to just breathe.

They stared into each other’s eyes, sharing the bond between them with only the moon and stars as witnesses. They had grown increasingly closes, with their noses almost touching. 

In a split second, Katara leaned forward and kissed him. Everything else inmediately stopped mattering to him.

———— 

She remembered.

Katara remembered everything. 

In the middle of her kiss with Zuko, running her fingers through his hair, it had all come back to her. 

The house by the countryside, their two kids, the way she chased after him all around their home to get him to listen to the newest lyrics she had written. One life they had spent at the South Pole together, living in a little hut and watching sunsets every single night. Another time - many decades ago - when they had met at the Fire Nation, where he was a crown king and she had been assigned as the ambassador for her village. Dozens of lives, dozens of first kisses, dozens of times they’ve had the conversation that had just taken place.

All of the sudden, Katara had remembered every last detail of their multiple existences together. Peace. That was all she felt. Utter and complete peace. 

Yes, there were a million things she wanted to ask him about the current lifetime. But that could all wait. They had an entire life ahead of them. 

“Zuko,” she exclaimed, breaking apart from their kiss. “I remember.”

“What?” He still had his arms around her waist. 

“I remember everything.” Tears of joy started to stream down her cheeks. Still, a playful smirk lightened up her face. “I’m honored to be kissing you, Fire Lord.”

“Spirits, Katara!” He started kissing all over her face. “You remember.”

“I love you so much,” she cried. “Thank you for telling me sooner this time.”

“I’m not sure if I’m even going to let you go back to Omashu now. Twenty years without you were enough.”

“We can worry about the logistics later,” she said, smiling. “Now I think we deserve another kiss after managing to sort things out so quickly this time.”

“Yes, my lady,” Zuko complied, the warmest grin spread across his face. “I think we do.¨

With that being said, they went back to kissing each other. Just like they had done a dozen lifetimes before. Nothing felt sweeter or more regarding than being able to be in each other’s arms again. 

------ “Everything Has Changed” accompanied me in every step of writing this story. When it came to deciding what to do for their date, I just knew I had to do the karaoke bar thing and include it on the narrative. I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Feel free to tell me what you think about it! <3

And thank you to everyone for joining me for Zutara Week! It was truly a pleasure to take part in such an amazing event. I can't believe it´s already over. I’m so happy I got to be a small part of it. Lots of love to everyone out there! @zutaraweek

[lucastheunlucky]

furniture hunt | simon&luke

Date: 6/3/20 Location: Antque Store With: Simon @inconvenientsimonstrocity​, & Luke

Summary: Luke invites Simon to help him find some new furniture for Yum!Pizzeria as he’s in the middle of a small remodel right now. The two try to be a little more open with each other. 

Lucas felt stuck between a rock and a hard place right now mentally and emotionally. This past week was seriously hell, and now the sun was-- no. He wasn’t going there. He was feeling really off ever since he saw Gotch again through the window, and he hadn’t told everyone about the fight either with Ariana needing the attention, and with Winn trying to explain himself. It was always easy for Luke to hide away though. It was terrifying seeing that shotgun pointed at Salva’s head. His nightmares have gotten pretty gory and the constant explosion of a gun going off always had him jumping awake. He’s not sleeping more than an hour or so a night. Well. He wasn’t going to keep whining. The wolves were a mess, but he didn’t think it was their fault. It felt reactory. If they found out about Salva through whomever, fine, he’d explain a little. But his mind was foggy, and it was difficult to push down the despair always swirling in his stomach. Distraction was really necessary for him. “Hey Simon,” he waved lightly, “be patient with me. I’m not sleeping again.” He admitted, “I’m so glad you’re helping me with this. I have a list. I need six bar height stools, five chairs, and maybe we can find some new hanging lights for the tables.”

The thoughts that churned through Simon’s head like foamy waves biting at a black-salted shore were conflicted. They felt diseased, almost, like they shouldn’t have been there and he tried to get rid of them but they clung to him like the parasite he felt under his skin. This was the first time he was going to meet Lucas since what the other members of… whatever they thought they were called a “pack meeting”; nothing was accomplished, nothing felt satisfying. He felt like he wasted his time at the crime scene and though it gave him a chance to fall in favour with the rest of the WCPD, nothing came of it. It was a distraction at best. Every single other member of the pack seemed to be reeling from a decision that happened this past week with the possible exception of Salva, who he just assumed was either too drunk, too busy or too bored to bother messaging him back. At least Lucas bothered to get back to Simon on his suggestion to do something. Eventually. See, it was THOSE thoughts that felt unnatural to him. Why was he thinking like that? Everyone was just very busy; he completely understood that - even Layla must’ve been terribly upset by what happened to Ariana and Celeste. And what Eldon had told him did him no favours,either; hiding as a means of survival, what the power of fear did to the hearts of mighty creatures, like… them. He pushed everything as far down as they allowed, threw the now-empty pill case of Allegra into a passing trash can and stepped into the antique store where he found Lucas almost as quickly as the nostalgic scent of time, paper and old wood found him. “Hey, Lucas,” He replied as he approached the younger man, voice still a little thick though at least he could breathe and probably wouldn’t be arrested by paroxysms. “And you’re all good; no judgement here. We can go as slowly as you’d like or feel comfortable with,” He added with a gentle smile. “I’m sorry you haven’t been sleeping, though… same phantoms?”

“Yeah, gotta love dreaming about getting buried alive or shot in the face,” Luke sighed, but his smile was there, ever honest in that he struggled a lot but didn’t let it ruin his life entirely. “It’s just what it is, I’ll be okay.” The words were stale on his tongue, and Lucas wasn’t sure how much more he could actually take before it felt better to go down different routes. “In good news, I’m mostly healed up. Tore it up a bit this week with shit, but the next moon will sew it up. Let’s go shopping. I hope we find some stuff. You should see the place all clean, and repaired up. I’m so glad I took the time to close it for a week. Insane what a difference it’s made. I really need to cook for you again, Simon.” As he said this he yawned, but he pushed into the aisles, the scents musky and pleasantly calm. “Have you met anyone new in town yet?” Seemed like Simon wasn’t the only one having problems sleeping, regardless of the reason. “I’m glad to hear you’ve been mostly healing up.” He wanted to ask about what happened but he told Lucas he wouldn’t ask about it anymore in their previous conversation so he kept the question to himself and instead moved on to what they were talking about - furniture. “Shopping, sounds good,” He gave a small nod of agreement and proceeded to follow Lucas, glancing off from side to side absently as he reran Lucas’ list through his mind. He wasn’t aware of the small smile that crept onto his pointed face when the younger wolf mentioned both cooking and if he’d met anyone ‘new’ in town. Three weeks ago, he would’ve said ‘Nora’ easily and that answer was still true but he would’ve been lying if he didn’t say Lydia, whether purposefully or not, was the first face to flicker through his mind. “I, uh… I’ve met some people, yeah.” He admitted with a small half-shrug. “And that pizza you made last time was really good. What do you like to cook the most?” He asked.

“I just like to cook for friends the most. Maybe, I’ll make us all some curry, that is always my favorite. My birthday is coming up on the 21st, I could make that if people want to come over. I’m sure Miles will take a chance to throw me a party since it’s been four or five birthdays without me around,” he said that easily to the ears, but his insides always hurt when he thought about it. Lucas grabbed a cart because he knew he’d probably find other things and didn’t want to hold them all. “I’m relieved you are finding some new people. This place isn’t big, but it’s got of decent people in it. I know I haven’t been around to hang out much.” Oh yeah, Lucas had been in hiding for some years now, assumed to be dead to the world except to one. Simon didn’t have to wonder too much about how hard that must’ve been for him, but he also took into account that Lucas probably had an actual life before the incident with Gotch; the way he talked about what it felt like to him to be a wolf, the freedom to be who you were before being forced into hiding… The only difference was that Simon was always a nobody. “Four or five years with your life drastically altered because of something you couldn’t control,” He opted to say casually as he picked up an old cracker tin, pretending to inspect it (though really, he just liked the texture of rough metal) to avoid making it seem like he was lecturing. “I’m sure he’s excited to throw one for you; it’ll be long overdue,” He placed the tin down, for some reason remembering that he placed the tin that seemed to whisk Lydia’s snapping at him away. “...Not to worry, I completely understand,” Simon replied, still avoiding looking at Lucas though he figured that that wasn’t unusual for him at this point. Now, though, it was because he felt the parasite frothing inside, wanting to snap and overwhelm and lash out like a spoiled child. “You’ve had some very important things happening, especially recently; majour changes, entire shifts in dynamic, et cetera. It’s vital to address and fix those problems before you can move forward.”

“Mhm, Gotch’s been messing with me since I was sixteen, Simon,” Lucas picked up a few glass bottles that had some interesting shapes and could look really good on the wall and put them in the cart. Thinking about Miles in any capacity was always a mixture of feelings. The undercurrent whispered that he wasn’t supposed to speak to him, demented words spoken in his ear as a whisper, ghosts of fingers tightly curled over his shoulders and telling him that it wouldn’t end well. And then the little brother in him, in the echoes of memories riding on Miles back, and trying to prank him (never ever successful he's such a punk!!) let Luke want to scream to the world how much he loved him and grab Miles and not let go. “He better,” Lucas laughed, and he was excited actually. “Well, when my family was here, I mean all of them. There were six of us. That pack life was way different then this mess, but then again, my dad was sorta in charge. I don’t think we can go back to that way of living. Feels, like I’m enlisted. I miss not caring so much.” Part of Simon felt guilty for getting the number wrong; did he know that? Was he told that? And yet, part of him, a dark, twisting part, couldn’t have cared less. No, he didn’t know that. No, he wasn’t told that. He popped his neck sharply, a relatively new habit of his and something he found gave him some form of emotional release. He remembered the people that did that in high school; controlling, aggressive. When he was younger, he thought it made them feel superior or like they were in charge… maybe they were just trying to keep the wolves inside of them from tearing them apart. He lightened his expression when he heard the genuine emotion in Lucas’ laugh, however, and he glanced down briefly, unclenching his hands that were white at the knuckles. “Big family,” He returned a small smile as they walked. One of his hands decided to go into his pocket for the time being while the other subconsciously reached up to scratch at his neck. “Yeah, I can imagine,” He scoffed lightly, his tone amiable. “The halcyon days of youth; there and then gone, waiting for you to pick up the pieces.” He pointed off to the side. “Those stools strike your fancy at all?”

Lucas glanced over, “yeah, my family is pretty big. Still, different sets of problems. Things can be easy in some areas, and only get more complicated in others having your biological family in your business all the time. If you can believe me, even if this all seems bleak, I have hope it will be okay-- I really want this all to work. I want to have a family again, even if it’s really hard and we fight, it’s okay.” Lucas knocked his head gently on Simon’s shoulder in passing, “you included.” He looked at the stools and got a little excited. “You have a good eye, holy shit. I love these. Let’s see if they can handle my heavy self.” He quickly sat down and did a few wobbles on it, and flipped them to see if they were all sturdy. “I like that they are all different. What do you think? Would you eat a slice of pizza and drink a beer on this?” “Different sets of problems,” Simon murmured, definitely more to himself than out loud as he ran that sentence through his head. As an only and friendless child, Simon often wondered how his life would’ve changed if he had even just one sibling; someone to fight with, to love on, to tease and fairly criticize but then to subsequently build up to be stronger than before. The closest he supposed he got was a ridiculously neurotic aunt who he assumed was responsible for half his allergies through the power of suggestion… yes, he COULD eat white bread and it was delicious. He was shaken out of that thought when he felt Lucas’ head against his shoulder. I have hope. I really want all this to work. That combination of words seemed to push the wolf further down, further than it had been all day and muzzled it, at least for a few moments. THAT was Simon and Lucas: hopeful. Despite all the bad things that happened to both of them, despite that neither of them made the life-altering choices that turned them into what they were today, Simon did believe Lucas when he said that because Simon wanted to believe that, too, desperately clinging to the threads that sometimes dangled in front of him and terrified to let them go once he had them. He’d let so many of the threads go already but he was still trying to sort through the ones he had left. Hope. “I’m going to be honest with you, Lucas,” He spoke up gently, a genuine smile on his face this time. “I’d eat a slice of pizza and drink a beer on the floor so long as I was enjoying it with someone else.” He admitted. “That being said, I’m no fashion or decor expert but I believe their asymmetry would lend themselves well to the aesthetic of your pizza place.” He added. “Plus, there ARE at least six of them and they all obviously belong together in their own strange ways…” He gave a light, somewhat playful shrug. “I say go for it. I can pay for them.”

“Same, I might even eat a piece that fell on the floor,” Lucas playfully said. “You know. When I played football we’d eat the craziest shit. I’d like that though. Sitting anywhere and munching yummy food.” He nodded, standing up from the stool.  “I like them. You want to treat me?” Lucas though in his thirties could be a little boy way too easily, and his eyes seemed to sparkle in excitement. “That’s really nice. Thanks. I’ll make sure one is just for you in the shop. Have it engraved. Hehe.” He waved down the sales clerk and let them mark it as sold while he hunted for some lights. “Have you considered getting back into forensics? I know you helped a lot with that piece for me. Do you miss that?” It didn’t surprise Simon that Lucas used to be a football player; indeed, it seemed like sports were a good outlet for the wolves to get their energy out. Sports were team-building, encouraged communication, gave people something to work towards. He could never play sports and he needed to stop thinking about and comparing everything to wolves; despite what Orobas said and how he was referred to, he wasn’t the same. “It’s really not that big a deal,” Simon replied but he knew finding positivity in small gestures when he heard it; no, bar stools at a pizza place was rather mundane but there were a handful of little things to be happy about. He didn’t speak again until Lucas asked him another question, shifting the topic and he remained quiet for a long moment. “I have, but…” Would Regan allow it after he (rather stupidly) got so bold to her? Did they even need someone else in the department? Surely they were busy given the death rate… normally he wouldn’t have minded the workload so much. “I might once I get Beans more used to the house,” He admitted quietly; the last thing he wanted to do was radically change up his schedule so soon after getting the… HIS dog. “And I didn’t help much; no one at that crime scene thought you did it, Lucas,” He felt the need to affirm. “And the guys we found evidence for either couldn’t be found or didn’t give up any information. It was a waste of time.”

“Beans--” Luke tried to flip through what he remembered, but sometimes details like that were hard for him to retain since his brain injury. “Is that the dog you posted about? You decided to keep it?” Lucas was surprised Simon felt like he didn’t do anything to contribute. Even with the police looking into it, Luke was glad someone with his interest was there. “You mattered then, it could have been so easy for Gotch to put one of his cops there to fuck it up, plant evidence, or not get the right stuff. I think if you and Sargant Rolands hadn’t been there-- it could have been different.” Lucas sighed. “I mean, I’m not fucking surprised, but it’s not a waste of time though. I had zero of this information for over a decade man. Rich kids will always get away with shit. They probably weren’t even from here. Someone did find one of those guys though, roughed him up, but they kept playing the same tune. They bought the hunt off Gotch.” “Sgt. Hills is a really good guy,” Simon said first, remembering how receptive he was of whatever information could be found and how they worked well together. He supposed that though they didn’t actually catch anyone, it WAS more information than they had… even if it was unsubstantial and ultimately worthless despite Lucas implying otherwise. He supposed Lucas DID have a point regarding planted evidence or corruption in the system… he hadn’t thought about those aspects.”You do bring up good points,” He replied mildly. “I just wish there was more that could’ve been done.” He said, resisting the urge to say ‘more *I* could’ve done’. “But hey; you were exonerated so I guess you gotta take the little victories,” He exhaled and continued to look around for the chairs, deciding to leave the lights to Lucas for now. “Oh! Yeah, sorry. Beans is the dog,” He decided to switch conversations to something lighter but he wasn’t sure if it was more for Lucas or him. “And I’m really thinking about keeping him; I’ve never owned a dog before so I never realised how… great they are.”

“Dude, I love dogs. Duke and I? God, Miles got him right when he moved into his cabin a few years ago and he had the BIGGEST ears and feet, and was all floppy. I’d let him train on me.  When I was healing up and on those crazy meds, Duke and I kept yelling at squirrels. It was nice, they are good companions, I’m glad you want to raise Beans.” Luke found dogs always very easy to get along with, maybe it was the scent or the natural energy he had, but he also knew that coming home to someone, even a pet, was the best feeling in the world. Lucas pointed out a few lights and decided on two that caught his attention when the woman came over to mark them sold. “You should have Duke and Beans meet. Miles could use the company. I’ve been worried about him. Do you have his number and stuff? He just got back in town.”

Good, talking about dogs seemed preferable. Simon smiled softly as Lucas opened up about some more of his personal life yet the thought of him having his own dog was bittersweet… Definitely more sweet than bitter, though; Beans' company was definitely worth the physical misery. However, his smile faltered ever-so-slightly when he recalled how Lucas described Duke as a pup; big ears and feet… That sounded like a big dog and that thought tensed him up slightly, instinctively. His hand started scratching his bite again, suddenly feeling a little spike of nervousness. "We talked briefly on the forum," He mentioned first. "I'll, uh… Yeah, it'll be good to meet up with them… I…" He cleared his throat. Spit it out. "I need to get over my fear of big dogs, anyway." Admitting those types of flaws of his were embarrassing but he didn't know why… Allergic to dogs, AFRAID of dogs, what a useless werewolf he was. "Miles seems like a good guy. You guys are good people."

“Oh? Duke is the bestest boy to help with that. He’s a search and rescue dog, very trained. He saves people, man. Knows how to calm people who are hurt down and never bites unless ordered to by Miles,” Luke took full advantage of Duke when he was healing up, not that he had a choice, Duke would come to him anyway cause the dog already knew he was in pain. “Miles is the best out of all of us. Probably the best in White Crest. He’s my hero, he’s really someone who puts others first. You can trust him with anything--” Luke easily rattled off, clearly the younger brother who idolized his older sibling without embarrassment. But as he was saying all that, he felt the faints presence swirl behind him. Reminding Luke of the horror attached to him causing so many issues for his mental health. “Did something happen that made you scared? Baby steps if you do, plus, it’s also okay to just be scared.” Simon had never met Miles save the one instance where they had their ‘pack meeting’ and there was with no uncertainty that Lucas was very proud to be the related to and the younger brother of Miles but if nothing else, Simon was in possession of the rare quality to be able to hear how people thought of someone and still be able to form his own opinions. He didn’t doubt that Miles was a good guy - he did Search and Rescue and from how Lucas talked about his own upbringing, something like a secretly-bad-older-brother would stick out like a sore thumb in the otherwise idyllic way Lucas recalled the memories of his past before all this shit with Gotch hit the fan. Lucas’ question pulled him out of his thoughts though and one of his nails unintentionally tore open his skin on his collar bone sharply as his hand clenched for a moment. “Yeah, it is…” He said quietly, lidding his eyes partially as he glanced off to look at a particularly ugly doll that stared back at him with unblinking glass eyes. “I got…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, feeling blood well up under his finger as it oozed from the scar tissue he opened. I got mauled by a werewolf. It ruined my life. That was one of the hardest combination of sentences he’d never said. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s okay to be scared in moderation.” He replied just as quietly. He remembered what Orobas said. “But it’s also important… to not let it control you.” He almost said that more to himself. “Baby steps.” He gave a small nod.

“Yup--” he emphasized the P with a pop, and nudged his shoulder with Simon’s, the scent of blood caught his nose instantly, but Luke could tell the duress was making Simon’s mind spin and body react. Luke knew deep seeded fear. He sat there while Gotch cut open his arm frozen in it. Luke, however, wasn’t ever a person who had to fix people, but he was someone who cared about them deeply. He tossed his bad arm over his shoulder, letting it hang comfortably, and pressed in close to his side on instinct. “We’ll get there, you know what I’ve been saying lately to myself?” Luke asked, and with his free hand releasing the cart he waved it in front of them. “Life is okay--” He snorted a little, smiling easily. “It’s not entirely good, but okay isn’t too bad either. At least we’re alive. At least we can have a future, even with fear of dogs or fear of one man. Ah, we are shopping for chairs and lights right now. Pre--tty domestic and, well. Okay right?” Lucas’ nudge and subsequent, instinctual intimacy somehow relaxed Simon considerably, though he obviously wasn’t expecting it to; was this because he was touch-starved? Was it a wolf thing? Either way, he heard his heartbeat that increased subconsciously start to slow down and he licked the blood off his finger while the other hand pressed his shirt into the small wound to stem the flow, watching Lucas wave his hand and listening to the words he was saying. Life is okay. It’s similar to what Lucas said earlier about having hope for the future. Don’t let fear control you. Believe it’s going to be okay. It IS okay. Baby steps. He inhaled, the scents of Lucas, his own blood, the wood and dust and an elderly woman’s perfume as it floated around the store. “Yeah,” He smiled again, gentle and genuine. “Life’s pretty okay. If anything, it should fear US,” He added, perhaps a little uncharacteristically but it was close to the full moon and Lucas had bolstered his own confidence just enough. “The future better be prepared for what we can bring to it.” The word ‘we’ struggled to form instead of him saying ‘you’ - strictly referring to the younger wolf - but he managed to get it right the first time, only feeling a little self-conscious about it.

“Exactly, heh,” Lucas was a person who had zero problems being close and hanging off people, not to the point of being annoying about it, but it was something he did instinctively. Even in school everyone always expected he’d be hanging on someone, and sometimes people even fought over him playing favorites. So Simon accepting it, and not flinching from it made him happy. Touch was important to werewolves, and closeness was an easy thing to give. Luke did find an awesome light and picked that up along with the stools, and a few weird looking chairs that were apparently bright gold thanks to the clerk who asked if it would fit with the look of the place. As they loaded it up in a truck, he felt relaxed. “So, thanks! This is awesome. Wanna come with me to drop it off? We can eat something too-- let’s just chill today? I need a chill day.” There was another exhale that came from Simon after they finished with their shopping, a sense of satisfaction from having found everything they needed that Lucas decided was preferable. While he still thought about how he sounded earlier and the negative thoughts that burned under him before that alongside the sensation that he still didn’t belong or have a sense of agency in relation to the other wolves, he had to think in the ‘now’ and right ‘now’, not being able to tell Lucas what he was truly afraid of aside, he felt… comfortable. The wolf that had been restrained and muzzled still thrashed around but it was deeper down and he could ignore it more willfully. “Yeah,” He replied in his same quiet tone, his natural tone; compliant, agreeable. Really, he felt like all the wolves could use a chill day. “Yeah, that sounds good.” He reaffirmed. A chill day. Sounded ideal.

[are-you-jungood]

Hoodie Chapter 3

Shownu X Reader

Author’s Note: 

Special thanks to @xoktie on picsart for making this amazing edit for me!! Go check her stuff out if you have the chance, she never disappoints!!

Also ya’ll can re-blog, just please don’t re-post somewhere else! If you do, at least credit me (please and thank you)! Also, I’m so sorry about this bar scene. I’m 18 so I’ve never been in one, so the description of the server/customer dynamics and norms may be a little off lmao. Other than that, enjoy!!

Brief Recap:

You were dead tired from throwing yourself into your work by the time Minhyuk started packing up to leave.

“Are you coming out drinking with us tonight?”

You were half tempted to decline because of how exhausted you were, but you figured one beer wouldn’t hurt too much.

“Sure! Who else is going?”

“Hoseok, Kihyun Yoo and Hyungwon Chae from marketing, Jooheon Lee and Changkyun Im from the Analytics department. A bunch of girls from accounting are tagging along as well.”

... You had a feeling tonight was going to be interesting, but nothing could’ve prepared you for what was going to happen next. 

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

You pulled into the parking lot of the bar. It was 8:00 pm on a Thursday, but the place was already packed. You spotted Minhyuk waving at you from the back and made your way over, skirting around the crowded dance floor in the process. 

“Look who finally made it!”

Minhyuk came over and put an arm around your shoulder sloppily, clearly already a few drinks in, and walked you to an empty seat at the table where the rest of the group was seated. As you sat down, you noticed that the pitcher on the table that was once full of beer was now being emptied into Jooheon’s glass.  You laughed and said in fake annoyance, “What, you didn’t save any of that for me?” Jooheon looked at you seriously for a second and then busted out in his best aegyo. You couldn’t help but laugh at his adorable pout. Huffing a sigh of defeat, you said, “Fine, I guess I’ll go order another pitcher for the table.” Everyone cheered at that and you left your friends, feeling like some sort of hero.

As you waited for the nice bartender to fill up your pitcher, you couldn’t help but overhear the loud conversation of the two girls sitting next to you.

“He’s so hot, right? Like, super manly hot!” 

The girl next to her leaned over and fake whispered, “Yes! He could scramble my eggs any day.”

Out of pure curiosity as to what this person would look like, you turned your head to find the poor soul that they were gawking at was actually Hyunwoo. He had just come through the door and was making his way toward your table of friends.

“Oh, God. Why is this happening? I’m not drunk enough to handle this.”

You turned back around and accepted the full pitcher of beer from the bartender. Tentatively, you made your way back to your friends and sat the pitcher on the table. Surprisingly, only Hoseok and Jooheon noticed your arrival. The rest of the group was busy peppering Hyunwoo with questions (including three girls from the accounting department who were practically throwing themselves at him).

One of the girls started giggling at something Hyunwoo said as another put a hand on his arm. Another one tossed her hair to the side and looked at him flirtatiously as she said, “So, I heard you went to X University. That’s a notorious party school, right? Were you a frat boy?”

You restrained yourself from letting out a groan at this superficial, and frankly vomit inducing, flirting.

Hyunwoo however, being a simple man, did not pick up on any of these flirtatious actions.

“Well, we were known for our partying, but it’s actually a really good school. I rushed a fraternity the summer of my sophomore year, but I found out I cared about our school’s dance club a lot more.” 

The girl who asked gave a bit of a disappointed look at hearing this and seemed to lose interest. After a stretch of silence, she got up and left with the lame excuse of needing to powder her nose. It was this point in the conversation, however, that you suddenly gained a lot more interest.

-------------------------------5 years earlier-----------------------------------

You had met Hyunwoo freshman year in your UNI100 class. You both happened to be the really quiet people sitting at the back of the class, hoping not to get called on. You never even looked twice at him until the day of your first dance club meeting. He was all shy smiles and sun kissed skin before the music started playing. He commanded the attention of the entire room the second he started moving. Each turn, glide, and hip thrust left the entire room hungry for more. When his powerful performance finally drew to a close, every single head was turned in his direction. His breathing was heavy and he was completely soaked with sweat as he made his way over to the side to sit and watch the others perform.

 You had joined the club begrudgingly at the persistent pestering of your best friends who were in it. You weren’t a good dancer like they were, so you opted for the more technical side of things and took on the job of setting up the sound system and coordinating everyone's songs as well as being everyone’s emotional support and cheerleader at competitions. When you saw Hyunwoo dance that day, it stirred something in you that you had never experienced before. He moved with such heartrendingly beautiful grace despite the amount of power and force put in his movements that you couldn’t help but be a little bit curious as to who this Hyunwoo was. 

You didn’t have the guts to talk to him after that practice, but one day in your UNI100 class he happened to forget his pencil and you were more than happy to oblige him. This got you both talking about the club, your majors, life in general, and the rest is history.

-----------------------Present--------------------------------------

Hoseok snapped in front of your face, drawing you out of your thoughts. 

“Earth to (y/n)! What’s up with you, today? You’ve been spacey since lunch.”

He scooted closer to you, feeling your forehead with the back of his hand saying, “You’re not catching a cold, are you? You know you don’t have to work so hard all of the time. It’s okay to take a break every once in a while.”

You huffed in slight annoyance at his fussing (even though you enjoyed it just a little) at swatted his hand away.

“I’m fine. It’s just been a long day of revisiting things from my past that I thought I had let go of.”

Subconsciously your eyes wandered over to Hyunwoo who was sat between Minhyuk and Kihyun acting as a sort of referee for the drinking game the two were playing. Hosek, being the astute observer he was, followed where you were looking and let out a slight gasp at the connection he made.

“That’s not-”

 “Yup.”

You took a sip of your beer and stared up at the ceiling, trying to hold back the tears that started to sting your eyes. You didn’t realize how much you had been holding in until now. Hoseok, picking up on your sudden mood change, suggested the two of you go on the dance floor and let go for a bit. You agreed with the condition you could take your beer with you,  seeing as you didn’t have a better idea. You weren’t going to let old history ruin your night, especially when you have a caring friend like Hoseok. You danced your heart out, forgetting about all of your problems for a while and threw yourself into the pulsing beat of the here and now. The night continued on, one beer turned to five, and you were stumbling over yourself and slurring your words when Hoseok and Minhyuk finally cut you off. 

“Are you good to drive Minhyuk? I’ve got room in my car if you need a ride.”

“That’s okay, I got an uber. They should be pulling up soon. See you at the office.”

Hoseok waved goodbye to him and turned to you.

“You are definitely in no shape to drive. I’m taking you home and I’ll come by tomorrow morning to pick you up for work so you’re not stranded.”

All you could get out was a strangled grunt in assent as he half-dragged/half-carried you toward the door. 

You had just made it to the front of the building before a familiar voice called out to the two of you. You turned around quickly and sloppily which didn’t help everything stop spinning. You clutched at Hoseok’s arm to keep from falling over and squinted to see Hyunwoo carrying a semi-passed out Kihyun on his back.

“Do either of you know where Kihyun and Jooheon live? They’re both passed out and won’t tell me their address, so I can’t take them home. Changkyun was supposed to be their DD but he bailed to hookup with some chick.”

Hoseok sighed a little and said, “I know where those two idiots live. I would give them a ride, but that’s in the complete opposite direction from (y/n)’s apartment and she’s in no shape to drive herself, let alone be left on her own here.”

“ I can drive her. I don’t have enough room in my car to fit those two in it anyway.”

They both looked at you, assessing your condition, when finally Hoseok said, “I don’t really know if I’m comfortable with that, we just met and all and you don’t know where she lives so-”

“It’s the same apartment on Dodd street, right? Number 7?”

Hoseok blinked, trying to come up with a better reason to refuse him when you spoke up and slurred out, “Just let him take me, ‘seokie  [hiccup]. How much worse can it get? I just want to go to bed~”

Hoseok stood there for a few more seconds before he sighed and said, “Alright, fine. But only because this situation couldn’t be helped because I can’t remember both of their literal addresses. (y/n), call me when you get in so I know you’re okay.”

You nodded your head, despite it feeling like lead, and walked out with the boys to the parking lot. Hyunwoo put Kihyun down in the passenger seat and buckled him in as Hoseok did the same to Jooheon in the backseat. They were both sleeping like babies, much like you wished you were.

Hyunwoo turned and looked directly at you (the first time all night, to your recollection) and asked, “Are you ready to go? I parked over there. Do you think you’ve got it, or do you need help.” 

You moved to protest, but your legs were a lot heavier and unsteadier than you remembered, so you stumbled into him instead. He caught and steadied you before he picked you up bridal style and carried you off to his car, saying something to Hoseok about leaving. As soon as your head hit the headrest, sleep consumed you. 

You didn’t wake up when he pulled up to your building, or when he somehow managed to carry you to the door of your apartment. You did, however, wake up long enough to dig your keys out of your purse to give to Hyunwoo, but slipped immediately back into that sweet blackness shortly thereafter.

You woke the next morning to the painfully loud ringing of your alarm clock. You slammed the off button and rolled over, sighing in annoyance and pain. Getting, up you shuffled quickly to the bathroom, a wave of nausea hitting you at the smell of breakfast being cooked in the kitchen. When you finished in the bathroom, you made your way to the kitchen, shielding your eyes from the painfully bright light that seemed to be everywhere. You were just about to chastise your roomate for cooking such smelly food when you have a major hangover when you realized it wasn’t Emma but Hyunwoo who was manning the stove.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

[rorykillmore]

can you rank (loosely if u don't want to play exact favorites) villanelle's most important or influential denny relationships?

i’m just putting them roughly in the order she met/reunited with them on denny, for the record. and in case anyone was thinking of coming for me, this is just what i reckon are the most INFLUENTIAL, good and bad, not a complete list of her friends or family or important interactions

okay and this is just going underneath a cut because it got long as fuck

fox is villanelle’s best friend, her -- if we lived in the, like, idk, homestuck universe (not to immediately make this cursed.) where you can have a romantic soulmate AND a platonic soulmate, he’s her platonic soulmate. and in terms of influence, i want to emphasize how much of villanelle’s denny arc, like... could not have been possible without fox. fox was the first person who was ever kind to her despite having absolutely no reason to be, and he was also the person who challenged her in such an important way at such an important time. during the whole GRACE plot, HE came back for her, and HE’S the one who essentially said “look, you have a choice. you’re not just a tool for this organization. one way or another, you need to make a choice.” which. again. a huge first in her life!

i’m trying to keep these short and sweet since i have so many to talk about, but genuinely like... i cannot understate fox’s importance as a part of villanelle’s life. and for her to even be able to have a best friend, to begin with? that’s such a like, idk. cornerstone of things Normal People Get To Have, and every day i write her i am so so happy she found him. from an ooc perspective, they’ve like, been to hell and back together also, and there’s a fierce kind of joy as writer when you look at a relationship that’s over a year old and has evolved so much over that time and get to go “we made this together!!!”

konstantin meanwhile is... well, he’s the healthiest parental figure villanelle’s ever had. which. really isn’t a high bar! their relationship has always been so tempestuous because it is built on konstantin’s manipulation of villanelle, both to use her for his own gain and... y’know, for his own survival, being able to manage her as long as he did! but he also genuinely loves her, and has gone out of his way on a number of occasions to protect her or help her or take care of her whereas it’s quite likely that most of the twelve’s handlers... just wouldn’t give a shit! i highly doubt that the twelve are the kind of organization where you’re supposed to get actually attached to your agent. and for villanelle, konstantin’s affection for her makes things more confusing, because it’s hard for her to ever draw the line between what’s sincere affection and what’s manipulation. post-canon update, she kind of now aggressively thinks he’s full of shit and is rejecting him for her own well-being which i think! is an important boundary for villanelle to be able to learn to set for herself! and you and i have spoken about how we don’t want to reconcile that immediately, but i also think... she would very much miss him and that it would be very, very strange for her to be without him when she’s ALWAYS had him to fall back on on denny, and indeed in most of her adult life in general. she needs to learn to stand without him, but at the same time.... i’m super interested to see how they approach each other now from this more honest, fractured place.

and then we have ruby , which. i still think ruby and villanelle are one of the most delightfully unexpected panfandom dynamics i’ve ever helped form PERIOD. and it’s interesting because hunter and i have always talked about how you would never expect these two characters to connect on the surface -- and you wouldn’t! but in exploring the ways they’re different, we’ve also found these really jarring similarities between them, too? and i think in a way, they’ve kind of bled into each other on top of that. villanelle’s relationship with ruby is like, INCREDIBLY formative to her learning empathy and just how to... nurture a relationship and be there for other people, but she has also become someone who ruby looks up to, and i think she’s contributed to maybe. Darkening ruby a bit, in that way.  

i also think of all the girls, ruby is the one who villanelle has the most explicitly maternal relationship with. weiss too, but i’ll get into why i think that works a bit differently in weiss’ section. but anyway, WHEN you have that kind of relationship with someone, at least when you’re approaching it with earnesty and a determination to do it Right, it challenges you with a certain kind of responsibility that i think has been essential to villanelle’s development too. not only has it taught villanelle how you love someone in a comparatively selfless way from what she’s used to, but requires from her a certain kind of self-awareness and moral awareness (if she doesn’t care about doing the right thing In General, she cares about doing right by ruby) that has allowed her to mature a bit on denny. so yeah, ABSOLUTELY one of of villanelle’s most influential dynamics. 

she’s obviously also very close with weiss, and i would also call her feelings for weiss maternal, but compared to ruby/villanelle i think weiss and villanelle’s relationship tends to take on a more Sisterly overtone on the surface. and i think that’s maybe because weiss HAS a sister who is basically villanelle’s age, who is her other maternal figure, so for weiss that’s more just how these kinds of feelings tend to Manifest. idk. you know, not to speak for jay, that’s just my take on it. but while weiss and villanelle have never really clashed the way ruby and villanelle have and then had to work through resolving that, i think in a way weiss just holds villanelle more accountable on a more day to day basis? they’re always quite honest with each other, weiss has always been quick to call her out, and like -- post-graceplot, for instance, weiss was the one who was like “i believe you didn’t mean to hurt us but you still need to find a way to make this right.”

and not that weiss did this deliberately, but she’s also the person who REALLY tested the person villanelle has become on denny and how... committed she is to loving the people she loves, via everything that went down during the hunger games. the way villanelle feels about the sacrifice she made is still really complicated -- it’s not something she feels comfortable being commended for, but it’s also not something she regrets. she’s not one to put selfless sacrifice on a pedestal, especially not in a horrible situation like that where neither of them should have had to to begin with, but a part of her... does find a deep sense of relief in finding this validation that her love for weiss - and all the girls, really - is real, and that she proved it to herself. after the games, i think maybe villanelle can be open with weiss in a way that she can’t entirely be with the rest of the girls. it’s just one of those things where if you go through something like that together, the bond it forges is quite unique.

i wavered on whether to include blake because villanelle didn’t do quite as much active development with her or yang, but i’m throwing blake in here for a few reasons.  1) post-graceplot when villanelle was kind of avoiding everyone, blake was the person who was able to approach that from the most empathetic point of view since she had just recently been on a “running away from everyone” arc herself, and i think that ultimately helped villanelle a lot in easing into wanting to make things right.

2) blake’s death during the games, and her not coming back afterwards, was a HUGE driving factor in how desperately angry villanelle became after the fact. it’s also maybe the most raw experience she’d had with grief up to that point, and it wasn’t something she was able to reconcile. that loss really helped to fuel her rage and also taught villanelle that even when you do your best to love someone else, things can still go wrong and you can still lose them, and that... wasn’t an easy thing for her to come to terms with.

and 3) she promised to fuck up adam for her if he ever showed up which, i think, should be the driving goal of the rest of villanelle’s life, 

sun and villanelle aka the single greatest example of “what if we jokingly shipped this oh god oh no wait i’m invested.” look they were always meant to be temporary but they were so goddamn sweet! while they lasted! i think planning temporary ships can give characters MOUNTAINS of development that endgame ships just can’t give you in the same way (not to say there’s not plenty of development that comes from endgame ships; i’m just saying there’s. a special kind of development that comes specifically from being brave enough to approach ending things with finality.) in villanelle’s case, that kind of stable, sweet relationship where she was tempering so much of herself deliberately could have never lasted, but it was good for her to get to experience that for a little while regardless? while i don’t think she was in love with sun, she did learn to just love him, and i think the clarity and simplicity sun approaches people in general with was something villanelle really benefited (and still benefits) from. most of all, it was significant for her to be able to see and understand that she wasn’t going to be able to be present and stable in that relationship in the way that sun deserved, and to make the decision to let him go. even if she was never OBSESSIVE about sun, villanelle still used to be a pretty selfish person who didn’t see any reason to let go of things if she enjoyed them, so i think. it can’t be underestimated, what sun taught her about love. 

emerald and villanelle have come SUCH a long way. first they were friends, then they were very bitter enemies, now they’re friends again approaching even a familial fondness. when villanelle was angry at emerald, it was never so much morally based as it was specifically based in the way emerald had hurt ruby, and penny, and had lied to villanelle herself. and although they started to resolve that after em didn’t take the chance to take advantage of villanelle during the memory glitch, i really think it was all the cinder stuff that allowed them to become close again. there are a lot of parallels between emerald and villanelle: both of them have coped by refusing to acknowledge the depths they’d sunken into over their heads with their respective organizations, both of them have been stuck in incredibly fucked up situations with older women. i think when villanelle acknowledges what emerald’s been through and is able to recognize that and feel compassion for her, she’s in a way learning to feel compassion for herself, and that’s very significant. i’d love to see how they evolve after villanelle’s canon update because i think now she’ll even have. More feelings about that. and i also think on some subconscious level as the new fall maiden she feels some kind of obligation to em, to be better than cinder was.

eve is, of course, a given on a list like this. she is such a powerful - the most powerful, in fact - influence on villanelle in any universe, and i think a lot about that in the context of villanelle having so many other people in her life now who she loves and who love her. as we’ve kind of seen on at least one occasion, if villanelle had to choose between eve and everything and everyone else she has... she would always choose eve. which isn’t something i’m trying to paint as sweepingly romantic (i love villaneve and i love how disastrous they are around one another, but i can still admit i’d be concerned for someone who would choose their partner over EVERY OTHER LOVED ONE THEY HAVE COMBINED,) but then again, it’s not even necessarily only for romantic reasons. it’s because eve is someone and something villanelle... craves, needs, finds time and time again that she simply cannot live without.

and them trying to make a relationship with one another work on denny has really provided its own unique set of challenges that’ve had an impact on both of them. eve and villanelle are deeply intrinsically connected, but that doesn’t necessarily equate to peaceful coexistence. any semblance of that, i think, is something that they’re always going to have fight for durations of, because their instinct is so much to consume one another instead! while its effect on villanelle of course can’t be described as wholly healthy - like i just mentioned above, she can be pushed into that place where she just sabotages everything else in her life for eve even still - that isn’t to say that there aren’t things about eve that haven’t changed villanelle for the better too! because to even have a romantic relationship with eve for an extended period of time like she has, villanelle has had to get better at certain things. she’s had to access a place of vulnerability and willingness to communicate that she hasn’t with anyone else, she’s had to accept eve’s own agency and individuality separate from their relationship (which is something she did on denny even before season 3 had her do it in canon!), she’s even had to do things like confront what her, say, killing bill actually meant and how it affected and continues to affect eve. it’s an absolutely explosive and constantly unstable dynamic, but there is of course GENUINE love between the two of them, and i really love all the ways in which villanelle’s been challenged to fight for that.

carolyn bears a mention because she’s undoubtedly been hugely influential  in the choices villanelle has made (and the ones which have been denied to her), especially lately. i don’t think villanelle ever particularly underestimated carolyn, but i think she was much too proud and too cocky to have imagined she’d have ever ended up under carolyn’s thumb the way she did. carolyn forced villanelle into the RID, and that was a situation villanelle was pretty complacent in for a while if only because it generally worked out for her. it took being backed into a corner to realize exactly how fucked she was, and interestingly enough i think that started to open villanelle’s eyes to the reality that she keeps ending up trapped by these higher powers, which is something that her canon update is going to heavily heavily emphasize. so. yeah, although while canon villanelle is mostly ambivalent to carolyn, denny villanelle absolutely HATES her. which. heh. may not end well. for at least one of them.

natasha is such a significant relationship for villanelle because i think, even with all the time she’s spent on denny and all the people she’s met? villanelle does not know... many people who are like her. most of her friends who know she’s an assassin either shy away from that part of her, or acknowledge it without really understanding what it means or what villanelle’s relationship is with killing and her own inner darkness. but natasha is such a PARALLEL to villanelle in so many ways, she was shaped into a weapon and told it’s the thing that defines her too, and even though she got out, she still has to grapple with that part of herself every single day. villanelle and natasha have their differences, sure, their variations in character and how their individual stories play out, but they also share a very specific understanding with one another that i don’t think either of them can really get anywhere else at the moment. and that’s a huge part of why nat has been such a significant influence on villanelle. when nat shows villanelle compassion, it comes from a deep, unfiltered place of empathy, something that could never be mistaken as Pity because they both understand what an insult that would be. when nat shows kindness and affection towards villanelle, it always seems to come from a place of “i understand the place you’re in completely, and you deserve to be treated like a human being anyway” which i think is so tragically ironic considering the self-loathing nat still carries around with her.

and i think there’s a part of villanelle that... while on denny she’s never expressed outward interest in completely changing her lifestyle or anything like that, i think there’s a part of her that looks at nat and admires how far she’s dug herself out of the hole she was in and, in some small quiet way, hopes to be like her someday.

pyrrha is pretty unique among the ruby girls in that like, rather than bonding with her gradually, villanelle kind of latched onto her immediately in a very “THIS IS TEAM RWBY’S DEAD LOVED ONE I MUST PROTECT HER” sort of way. which is interesting in its own way, because villanelle is rarely that protective of other people, and i think it goes beyond the physical (because she knows pyrrha can take care of herself) and more into the emotional. which villanelle does not especially consider herself well-equipped to handle, but hey, she’s gotta make sure pyrrha values herself beyond just what she can give or sacrifice to others!!!

on the subject, in terms of influence i have to mention that pyrrha gave her life for villanelle during the games, which is something that no one has ever done for her before, and an event which directly compelled villanelle to do the same for weiss. i don’t think villanelle knows how to even... address that, really, and can’t fully process the scope of it even though she made a similar decision in the end. in simplified terms, she feels like she owes pyrrha a debt, and one she hasn’t yet fathomed a way to repay.

elizabeth really just started out as a minor infatuation, a lil crush like villanelle gets on any pretty woman who intrigues her for more than 5 minutes. her flirtations with elizabeth were all in line with that, and i don’t think villanelle really realized how much she was encouraging elizabeth’s feelings for an attachment to her, particularly because her own feelings were not particularly intense for the first stretch of their friendship! in a way, villanelle’s relationship with elizabeth is a good examination and challenge of something i haven’t really done before with villanelle, which is that, like. it’s not her fault that she doesn’t bond or attach the way other people do (or at least, is much slower to), but she also has virtually no self-awareness of the way she engages and sometimes leads people on as a result. a lot could have been averted if she’d just... had the sense to set boundaries or had found a way to be more honest about the person she is.

but a lot’s happened since then, and now villanelle has to contend with the fact that she DOES love elizabeth, but at a time when their relationship has already just become too strained and impossible for the time being. additionally, villanelle really has no reference at all for being IN love with someone (or approaching that, anyway) in a way that’s non-obsessive and more quiet and gradual and just... very different from the way she loves eve, so she has a real hard time distinguishing this grey area between platonic and romantic feelings. because villanelle is still very literal in the interpretation of her emotions, so her reference for being in love with someone is “eve”, and she doesn’t know how to recognize anything on such a different part of the spectrum (particularly because villanelle is probably physically attracted to like, many of her platonic adult friends,)!  SO elizabeth and villanelle’s relationship is very influential in the sense that it really pushes villanelle into exploring parts of herself and emotional experiences that she hasn’t really yet.

do i need to put cinder here? she wasn’t in villanelle’s life for very long, but technically she is the reason villanelle has maiden powers, which changed her life entirely, so,

and then i’ll also toss in jigsaw (and technically also handsome jack), who will be INCREDIBLY pleased to know that his trap had a lasting effect one way or the other. don’t get me wrong, she was pissed as hell about it and would go on the WARPATH if she ever caught so much as a whiff of their involvement, but i mean. aside from the fact that lasting trauma definitely counts as an influence, i think it is one of the events that definitely brought villanelle closer to and more attached to eve, if perhaps in a. somewhat codependent and overprotective way. still can’t believe they caught villanelle saying she would give up everything else in her life and die for her gf ON TAPE,

[obwjam]

hear me out- Bucky having made friends with a borrower, and that borrower being tortured by HYDRA in order to bring back the winter solider

i have heard you. and i shall answer you. i actually LIVE for the “tiny comes from a place of torture and is rescued by a big friend” trope. like, absolutely obsessed. the dynamic is A++++++

(tw: mentions of blood, torture, guns)

taglist: @nightmarejasmine @burrpoetry @thepoolofthedead @the-original-space-cowboy @gttrash @smolkuriboh27 @bittykimmy @misfitsgalaxygt @a-black-pegasus @smol-jar-of-pickles @sanderssidestrash27 @snack-at-midnight@haveyouheardofborrowers @pomelo-chan @sammigruber @gttrash@tiefling-trickery @bittykimmy​ @random-sanders-dragon

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

Bucky blamed himself.

There was no one else to blame. If he had never talked to you, you would have gone your whole life without getting into trouble. You would have kept borrowing peacefully, blissfully unaware that he knew your every move. He had been watching you for so long and you had no idea. At the time, it seemed like a good idea to finally meet the tiny that lived in his walls.

When he first saw you, he had no words. He had never seen something like you before. He watched in the shadows as you carried grapes in your arms like a giant beach ball. He was hardly upset; it was a treat just watching you do what you do.

He watched you for weeks. He found that you came out at the exact same time every night, because at that point, he was usually asleep. He never left food out on the counter per se, but he made sure to be a little extra clumsy while cooking from time to time. 

He was enthralled. He couldn’t stop. At some point, he figured, it bordered on creepy to watch you without knowing anything about you. It was hard pinning you down the first time he met you -- literally, he tried to pin you down -- but eventually, he found out the best way to talk to you was no grabbing and no looming.

You two were surprisingly similar. You were both pretty quiet and reserved, both had tough pasts. You both knew what it was like to lose friends and family. You knew what it was like to feel like you didn’t belong. 

Now, it all felt like a trap. Hydra had been hunting Bucky for months. They knew he now had the protection of the Avengers, so swooping in to attack him was no longer an option. Somehow, they needed to lure him back to their base.

And you were the perfect bait.

During a failed attack, Hydra had at least managed to bug the place to keep tabs on Bucky’s habits. They were pleasantly surprised to discover that he had a tiny companion that he seemed to be very fond of.

“P-please, s-stop-stop... “ you begged, but you knew it was worthless. You were going on your fifth--no, sixth?-- hour of torture. The first few hours, you just sat in a cage in a dark room. Complete and total isolation. The growing anxiety of when, who and what was coming for you next drove you into a panic so frantic that you spent a half hour trying to rip away at the cage’s wiry bars. 

Finally, when someone did show up, their presence was enough to make you cry. They opened the cage and lifted you up by your shirt, dangling you higher and higher in the air once they saw how furiously you kicked your legs. They moved their fingers from your shirt to your torso, spinning you around in the air as they observed you.

“What a sad little creature…”  they whispered, squeezing you incrementally harder and smirking as your face contorted from the pain. Your eyes felt like they were about to pop out of your head as the air flew out of your lungs like a vacuum sucking up air. 

You were dumped onto tables, prodded with tools, flicked by fingers, gazed down upon by dozens of eyes and held in place by pieces of tape. Oh, the tape was the worst. All you could do was look straight into the eyes of your captors. They would rip off the tape and replace it with new strips for fun, just to watch the tears leak from your eyes. 

You knew exactly why they were doing this, too; Bucky had told you just about everything. There was a part of you that was begging him to come and save you -- you had never felt this kind of pain before. But that was Hydra’s intention. You had to be stronger than this. Your best friend’s life was at stake.

Bucky’s hair was whipping so fast he thought it might fall out. He hadn’t eased his grip on his handlebars since he got on his motorcycle. How could he let this happen? Why didn’t he just let you come with him on his grocery store trip? To think that your safety was his concern…

He kept repeating your name under his breath. To say it out loud, it was his only way of convincing himself you were still alive.

You cringed underneath the magnifying glass being held over you. The heat from the lamp above you and the way it filtered through the glass made you feel like you were sitting next to the sun. You could feel your clothes soaking with sweat.

There was a loud bang somewhere off in the distance. Men were screaming, guns were firing and boots were thumping.

He was here.

Bucky hadn’t felt this kind of fervor in a long time. He was barely thinking as he knocked out agent after agent. He didn’t even feel like he could be touched right now. He wouldn’t allow himself to be. He knew it was a trap, but his only goal was to rescue you.

“Where ARE THEY?!” he screamed as he fired bullets into the chest of another agent.

The doctors who were handing you looked up. They almost couldn’t believe the anger in Bucky’s voice. They knew you were important to him, but they may have underestimated just how important.

“BUCKY!!!” you screamed, knowing full well you’d be punished for it. “BUCKY! IN HERE! BUCKYYYYYYYYYYY!”

You suddenly felt the force of a giant hand over you. One of the doctors slammed his entire palm over you, intentionally pressing it against your body. You tried to scream, but couldn’t open your mouth. You were lucky to get some breaths in.

Bucky heard something small. It sounded like his name. He thought it could be even more of a trap -- that whatever voice he was about to follow wasn’t actually yours. But in this dark, damp facility, it was all he had to follow.

“You little rat,” the doctor hissed at his hand.

“Take your hand off them. If they die then he’ll go mad,” the other doctor insisted. 

“If he hears them, he’ll come in here,” the first doctor said, sounding nervous. “And we don’t want him to--”

He didn’t get a chance to finish. The door burst open and Bucky ran through, gun pointed. The two doctors cocked their guns in response, finally giving you some air. Bucky immediately saw you.

“What have you done to them,” he growled. He could see the glint of blood dripping from your head. 

“Nothing permanent,” the doctor snarled, chucking his gun aside to lunge at Bucky. Bucky blocked every punch and dodged every kick, holding his own in this two-on-one fight in the small room. He put his gun back in his pocket so he wouldn’t accidentally fire it at you. 

As the giant men fought, you squirmed in the tape. The more you wiggled, the more you could feel the stickiness wearing off. Even though the tape dragged and pulled at your skin like a dog pulls on a rope toy, you managed to get one of your legs free.

“Longing,” one of the doctors yelled in Russian. Bucky’s eyes widened.

“No,” he whispered, taking a swing at the doctor. He missed.

“Rusted,” the other doctor yelled next.

“NO!” Bucky took another wild swing.

“FURNACE!”

“STOP IT!” Bucky swiped, missing the head of the doctor narrowly. His force propelled him forward and he smacked into the desk where you were pinned down. You looked up in horror as the bookshelf on the desk started to shake. Luckily, nothing fell.

“(Y/N!)” Bucky gasped before the doctors spoke again.

“Bucky, what’s going on, what are they saying, what’s--”

“DAYBREAK!”

Bucky clutched his head, his breath picking up. He looked down at you, bleeding, sweating, crying and shaking. He hadn’t seen someone so roughed up in a long, long time.

“I’m sorry buddy, this shouldn’t have happened,” he breathed. “I should have just-- I should have protected you.”

“Stop,” you said, hiccuping between breaths. “Stop, stop. Don’t blame yourself. I’m glad you found me.”

Bucky smiled -- the closest thing he’s come to a smile in a long time, anyway -- as he turned his attention back to the doctors.

“Seventeen,” one of them said. Bucky’s hand was shaking as he reached for the gun in his pocket.

“Bucky, whatever it is, don’t listen to it,” you pleaded. “Please… please, I need you!”

Bucky shut his eyes, repeating your name in his head over and over. He felt the cool surface of the gun’s handle scrape his fingertips.

“Benign.”

A flash of pain went through his skull. He gripped the gun.

“Nine.”

“Homecoming.”

“One.”

“Freight c--”

Boom.

The first bullet flew right through the chest of the first doctor. Blood began slowly leaking from the circle wound as the doctor clutched his chest and staggered backwards. The other doctor was taken aback, giving Bucky enough time to put a bullet through his chest before he could utter the last word.

In an instant, the two doctors were slumped on the floor, lifeless. Bucky dropped his gun and ran over to you.

“Please, hold still,” he said, raising his shaking fingers to the edge of the tape. You closed your eyes and gritted your teeth as he peeled it back.

“OwowowowowOW!” you said impulsively. 

“Sorry, little guy,” Bucky muttered, moving over to the next strip. He felt guilty for hurting you.

“This--ah!--isn’t your fault,” you said, reading the guilt all over his face. Your jaw was quivering at the sight of his giant trembling fingertips inches from your face.

“Stop saying that,” Bucky said snidely. “Just let me get this off of you.”

You wondered why it hurt less getting the tape off your leg, until you tried to stand up. You had lost all feeling.

“Woah!” Bucky stuck his hand out, extending his pointer finger. “How badly are you hurt?”

“Well, I guess I can’t feel my left leg,” you said, pushing on his finger and using it to stand up. “That’s new.”

“Aw man,” he said, starting to twist his hands underneath you. “Can I…?”

You nodded, letting him take the pressure off you as he lifted you slowly into the air. You fell back into his palm and leaned back on his curved fingers. Staring up at his billboard-sized face freaked you out for a moment, if only because you were still reeling from what just happened.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Bucky mumbled as he stepped over the bodies of the doctors. He looked back down at them one last time, just to make sure.

“It’s… it’s okay,” you said, staring down at the bodies with him. You had never seen a dead body before and you hoped you’d never have to again. “Y-you had no choice.”

“I should have never dragged you into this mess.”

“Bucky…” you sighed. “You, someone with a sick metal arm and literal superpowers, wanted to be friends with me. You thought I was cool. I still can’t believe that. And now you’re… you’re my best friend. I didn’t care that these goons took me. I only cared that you might get hurt trying to find me. Or that I’d never see you again.”

Bucky didn’t realize he was smiling, probably because he forgot what it felt like to do that. What you didn’t know was that Bucky thought you were much stronger than him, in all the ways it counted.

“I won’t let anything like this happen to you again, (Y/n),” Bucky said quietly.

You smiled. “Just let me come to the grocery store with you next time.”

Bucky laughed the smallest of laughs. 

“Only for you.”

[webcricket]

Winter’s Eye

Pairing: AU!CastielXReader Word Count: 1560 (Ch. VII) Story Summary: Season 13 canon tells you how AU!Castiel’s story ends, this is how it begins. The deranged and damaged iteration of Castiel we met in the apocalypse universe - an obedient soldier to Michael’s cause barely in control of his vessel’s frayed and erratically firing nerves whose inherent kindness toward humankind appeared entirely obliterated - wasn’t always an unfeeling angelic weapon of interrogation. Once, he sympathized with the plight of humans; one, he loved. Outlined for 10 chapters (although, my muse is bad at maths and these things have a way of multiplying). Chapter Summary: As the connection between Cas and the reader finds firmer footing, a link from his past arises to threaten them both.

Previous Chapter: VI

VII.

“Are you kidding me?” The question explodes in a puff of breath on the frozen air; before you unfolds a pristine island of black tarvia, the filtered sun beating down on it with enough heated force to melt the snow anywhere pavement touches. Parking spaces outlined in regular intervals of yellow striping, and a handful of abandoned vehicles, radiate from the mountainous façade of a Mega-Mart.

Surveying the scene through the squinted blue optics of his vessel, Cas casts you a curious knotted-brow glance from where stands at the edge of where forest rings this convenient miracle of civilization seemingly constructed in the middle of nowhere. “Is something funny to you?” he asks, looking between you and a building too empty and too quiet for his instincts to trust; out here you’re exposed - a living breathing target unprotected by a buffer zone of wooded isolation – and he doesn’t like it one iota.

“No-” you laugh, further confusing his brow with the conflict inherent between your answer and attitude- “I guess I was expecting a rinky-dink general store fronting a small town main street. Not this-” You gesture at the looming building, a wonderland promising to contain anything and everything your heart could possibly desire and more. More, that is, beyond the surprise solace of sharing a cabin with your very own personal overly protective angel, of course.

“There is a highway not far from here, and a town like you describe – one whose populace was decimated by werewolves and worse. It’s not safe there or here,” he says gravely. And yet here you are, allowed to tag along against his better judgement because, in a moment of weakness of reason, he let an inexorably extant and angelically errant emotion of fondness for you overrule his head.

“We should hurry-” haste propels his feet forward; he curls a beckoning arm backward- “Stay close.”

You obey, legs scissoring at a trot to try to keep step with his purposeful stride. On level ground, it’s even more punishing a pace than the hike that hurried you here. Feeling the bite of blisters forming on the boney points of your heels and on the tops of your toes, you make note on your mental shopping list to search for a pair of better fitting boots and Band-Aids.

As you thoughts wander, he begins to outpace you. “Hey, where’s the fire?” you pant across the growing gap of distance.

Gradually getting the gist that not all questions you pose want answering given he observes no indications of a blaze in the immediate vicinity, he ignores the query, but not the subtext of comment on his speed, and slows until you catch up.

Approaching the sliding glass doors of the entrance, he notes they are intact and locked just as he last left them. A scattering of stone spilling outward from the threshold, not so accidental as it appears, lies undisturbed.

Strategically speaking, this would be the easiest egress for an intruder to gain entrance inside. The rear and side admittances are steel, chained, and padlocked. Still, with you to watch over, he does not permit these subtle reassurances to soothe his caution.

A flick of two fingers to focus his grace frees the dead bolt. He pries the doors apart with brute strength just far enough to permit you both to squeeze through. On last look out at the parking lot as he secures the doors shut, his regard is drawn heavenward to the horizon to a solitary silvery vapor streaking the otherwise uniformly tarnished gold glow of the sky – a wisp of airy nothingness so slim as to barely be noticed and the sort of smoky linear disturbance a plane would create in its wake as it passed - a contrail disturbing the pressure of the low atmosphere.

Except there are no planes, and there hasn’t been anything save the bodily bound bombs of angels skimming the firmament in flight - or, like him, falling in a smoldering ruin of fate - since the day Michael donned a crown formed by the flayed flesh and bone and souls of billions of humans and the emptied glory of the thousand and more angels who opposed him and whose snuffed existence stains, in a bloodied shadow of once brilliant light, Castiel’s hands.

In the seconds he spends considering the cloud, it dispels in a freshet of cool wind. It wouldn’t make sense, angels scouting here where there is nothing. They’ve done with him, banished him to dwell in and on his defeat, and ever since he etched a warding sigil upon the curved carriage of your ribs, they cannot so much as sense you exist.

Besides, with what you’ve told him of the holdouts of human resistance groups, why waste heavenly resources hunting one human in a haystack of the wild when bigger targets persist.

The tear of a candy bar wrapper loudly resonates in the benumbed and stagnant space; the crumpling of plastic and crunch of chocolate crust is swallowed up as eagerly by the silence as your gullet.

“I missed these,” you mumble and moan in immodest taste bud titillating pleasure around a mouthful of melted sugary goodness as his gaze rounds to seek out the source of the sound.

“Shh-” he scolds; the grit of worry in the warning hushes you instantly.

Terror tightens your throat so that you cannot swallow the amalgam of sugar and saliva held amid your teeth and tongue. Heart seizing, then pounding with such ferocity each ferried beat of fear shudders your frame, bits of brown moisture ooze at the trembling corners of your clinched jaw.

In the depths of the store, somewhere down a darkened aisle, winding to reach his celestially superior discernment, a soft scraping of fabric and rubber soles, slightly sticky on the tiled floor despite the feather-lightness of the footsteps, faintly perforates the calm.

Lashes widened in alarm quickly narrow again in a lethality of resolve; an inner luminance of blue burns in his searching gaze as he shifts a few steps into the eerie fringes of where the window light bleeds into the dimness. When he shakes his sleeve, you see a glint of metal flash into his grip.

Adrenaline opens up your veins and, also oiling your muscles to fight or flee from this place, it permits you to thickly and audibly gulp the wad of partially chewed chocolate nougat.

He extends the hand unburdened by a blade out at you, a movement meaning to say that you should do neither and duck out of sight behind the register.

You misread the purely practical physicality of his request and instead cede to the instinctive tug at your emotions to meet his fluttering fingers halfway, meshing yours into the warm sanctuary of their apertures and securing your other arm through the crook of his elbow to flatten his entire weaponless limb to your chest.

To say the action – a clingy suggestion of deeply rooted trust, concern, and consequently of a firm belief in his ability to shield you in the face of danger - catches him off guard would be an understatement.

However, with a hiss of his name in a tone familiar to him as that of his unwaveringly loyal lieutenant and sister – Rachel – slicing through the dark loud enough, even, for you to hear the anger and resentment whetting the knife of feminine voice, he has no time to analyze the exhilarating effect your embrace and corporal nearness exerts upon his being, nor does he permit more than a speck of added anxiety to alter the determination of his affect.

Pivoting, his typically stony rigidity a balletic display of swiftness, grace, and fluid urgency, he covers your mouth, pins you flush against the waist-high wall of the register, and very briefly steals your breath in the press of his hips against yours. The dynamism of his blues, desperately sparking hue dancing less than an inch from your flared lids, implores you to stay there no matter what happens.

He’s certain she heard you - can hear the wild banging of pulse within your body just as clearly as he can – she is, after all, an angel, and a sometime ally sympathetic to humanity who is not as dead as he presumed and evidently has an axe to grind with him.

If you stay out of her way, you may yet survive. Castiel maintains less hope for himself, and before he found you, he would’ve welcomed whatever retribution she required up to and including his life – a life sunken into meaninglessness and seeped in suffering; but now, staring into your eyes, their pleading concern begging him to be careful, to not leave you alone, he feels reason to fight.

Numbed by panic, limbs turning into immovable lead weights of worry for him, you feebly nod against the electrically charged scent of his skin a promise to stay put for his sake and collapse as he pushes you down to your knees and into the alcove underneath.

You watch the lower portion of his legs retreat from your sight and disappear into the gloom. Straining to hear what is happening, the pain pinching your heart in his absence drums dully in your ears and pulls with each strung and stinging beat at the fluid filling the blisters on your feet.

Castiel tag list:  (Closed, if you’d like to be removed please let me know!)    @jeepangel  @sammiesamness  @willowing-love  @blueicevalkyrie   @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11  @thesugargalaxy​    @bluetina-blog​  @dont-trust-humanity​  @afanofmanystuffs  @honeybeetrash​  @bucky-thorin-winchester​  @superwholockz​   @tistai​  @wordstothewisereaders​  @gill-ons​  @mrswhozeewhatsis​  @marisayouass​  @stone-met​   @castiel-savvy18​  @samualmortgrim​  @trexrambling​  @magnificent-mantle​  @kdfrqqg  @xdifsx​   @mandilion76​  @rockfairy​  @peaceloveancolor​  @unicorntrooper​  @anisolatedship​  @itsilvermorny​  @aditimukul​  @kudosia​  @goofynerd-67babylove​  @uninspirationalsonglyrics​  @gray-avidan​  @mishascupcake​   @mishapanicmeow​   @praisecastielamen​  @roseyhxnt​  @jessikared97​  @let-the-imaginationflow​  @warriorqueen1991​   @sebastianstanslefteyebrow   @hisnameisboobear  @kristendanwayne  @fuschiarulerinthebluebox​  @coolpencilpie​  @jenabean75​  @luciathewinchestergirl​  @morganas-pendragons​  @heyitscam99​  @fangirl-and-stuff​  @selahbela  @realgreglestrade​  @splendidcas​  @pointlesscasey​  @i-larb-spooderman​  @thewhiterabbit42​  @thelostverse​  @castieliswatchingoverme​  @beccollie18  @dragonett8  @dixie-chick​  @jtownraindancer​   @carowinsthings​  @passionghost​  @ladyofletters67​ @futureparent​  @gabbie7-11​  @myfandomlife-blog​  @dreamerkim​ @shamelesslydean​  @earthtokace​  @neaeri​  @justanormalangel​  @lone-loba​  @supernaturalymarvel​  @lilrubixx​  @wings-and-halo​  @x-cassiopeia​ @thehoneybeecastielfollows​  @musiclovinchic93​  @81mysteriouslyme​  @the-bottom-of-the-abyss​  @jaylarkson​ @pixiedusts  @spookysculderfiles  @laqueus-ludovicus  @missjenniferb @lexininja  @jessiekay2010   @skrratata  @rhiannonj79  @calicat79